Backlash
As the negative headlines mount, Clinton's popularity has hit new heights. But the
press needs to ignore the polls, stop its handwringing, and stay the course.
The gantlet that White House secretary Betty Currie had to walk on the day of
her grand jury testimony last week showed the media at their ugliest. Looking
frail and tiny, Currie leaned on her lawyers for protection as the pack pressed
in, thrusting cameras and microphones and tape recorders in her face. It was as
though the reporters believed if their behavior was terrifying enough, she
might actually blurt out that, yes, she saw Monica Lewinsky performing on the
presidential organ in the Oval Office.
And indeed, by week's end the media were deep in the kind of angst-ridden
handwringing that invariably follows these periodic frenzies. From the
Washington Post's Howard Kurtz to the Boston Globe's Mark
Jurkowitz, from a two-hour CNN special on "media madness" to a front-page piece
in Sunday's New York Times, from the Nieman Foundation to the Poynter
Institute, all were in agreement: We've gone too far once again.
Well, pardon me if I dissent. Because it seems to me that, though the media's
performance has hardly been perfect, it hasn't been nearly as bad as the
garment-rending would suggest. The press has reported -- accurately, it would
appear -- on a major investigation into possible wrongdoing on the part of Bill
Clinton and his friend Vernon Jordan. The details of that investigation are so
lurid that the media have had to strain to sensationalize them. And serious as
the allegations are in their own right, they could be shown to have a direct
link to something even more serious: that old standby, the Whitewater
scandal.
So why do polls show Clinton's popularity soaring and the public's regard for
the media plummeting? The answer lies in the subliminal message conveyed by
Betty Currie's ordeal -- that is, that the media are omnipresent, omnivorous,
insatiable. That when a big story falls into their lap, especially one
involving sex, lies, and celebrity, they drop everything else they're doing (a
historic papal visit to Cuba, in this case) to engage in endless, 24-hour
repetition and speculation. And that, in the new mediascape of cable news
channels and Internet scandal sheets and the New York Post Online, there
is no escape.
Now, those are serious issues, and they're linked to important journalistic
concerns about an accelerated news cycle that leaves little time for
fact-checking. Witness the Dallas Morning News, which published a story
on its Web site about a Secret Service agent who supposedly saw Bill and Monica
in flagrante delicto, only to have to retract it in its paper edition.
Or CNN's Larry King, who announced -- live -- that the next morning's New
York Times would carry a bombshell; minutes later, he corrected himself.
But ultimately those are issues of quantity, or perhaps velocity -- not
quality.
Certainly the drop-off in coverage that set in after the State of the Union
address was overdue. Since ABC News and the Washington Post broke the
news, on January 21, there has been virtually nothing new to report.
Newsweek, which actually had the information first but held it, filled
in a lot of the details in its next issue. Other than that, the story is in a
holding pattern, with the same tidbits repeated over and over again. Boston
Globe columnist John Ellis, a former network news executive, wrote last
Saturday that there are perhaps 20 reporters in Washington with the connections
and the sources to move this story forward. Until one of them does, the rest of
the media would do well to show some restraint. As Jay Leno quipped last week,
referring to Bill and Monica's ropewalk hug, "I have seen that footage more
than the Rodney King video." But that hardly means the media were wrong to make
a huge deal of this in the first place.
Unfortunately, the backlash against the media has created the perception that
there isn't much to this scandal. That's simply wrong. Lest we forget,
independent counsel Ken Starr is investigating whether Bill Clinton carried on
a lengthy sexual affair with a young intern, starting when she was 21, and
urged her to lie about it while under oath. And despite Clinton's increasingly
emphatic denials, the circumstantial evidence against him remains disturbing:
the legalistic "talking points" Lewinsky gave her betrayer, Linda Tripp, which
instructed Tripp to lie under oath; the one-on-one job interview Lewinsky had
with UN ambassador Bill Richardson; the help and solicitation she received from
Vernon Jordan. Even the worst supposed examples of media excess -- the reports
of a semen-stained dress and that peephole-peeking Secret Service agent -- were
actually part of Starr's investigation, and thus were legitimate news.
Some critics have also tut-tutted over the media's invoking the R-word
(resignation). But that criticism, too, is misplaced. After all, the
breathtakingly bad judgment (political, ethical, moral -- take your pick)
Clinton is alleged to have shown has led such leading members of the
"right-wing conspiracy" as former Clinton aides George Stephanopoulos and Leon
Panetta, and Senator Pat Moynihan (D-New York), to suggest that, if the sexual
affair alone turns out to be true, Clinton should go.
And, as the media have done a fitfully uneven job of conveying, there's the
possibility of more -- much more. It's been widely reported that Starr is
investigating whether Jordan urged Lewinsky to perjure herself. What's not
quite so well known is that if Starr can make a case, he may be able to
pressure Jordan into telling him why he arranged for all those lucrative
contracts for former associate attorney general Webster Hubbell, the ex-con who
worked with Hillary at the Rose Law Firm and who may know some dark secrets
about Whitewater.
Most intriguing of all, the scandal is directly relevant to the issue of
Clinton's character. After his health-care plan fell apart, he reinvented
himself as a moral leader, inveighing against televised sex and violence, and
talking to audiences about issues such as teenage pregnancy and personal
responsibility. If he and Lewinsky had sex, he deserves to pay a high price,
for it was he -- despite his well-known reputation for philandering -- who
essentially put himself on a pedestal and said, "Watch me." I found it
interesting that his former secretary of labor, Robert Reich, on WBUR Radio's
The Connection last week, disagreed with a caller who said Clinton's
personal life had nothing to do with his job performance. Reich reminded the
caller that Clinton has been talking about "moral leadership" for years. What's
Clinton going to say the next time a teenager asks him about safe sex?
About one thing the media have surely been wrong. This is no Watergate, no
Iran-contra. Even if Starr succeeds in dragging Whitewater into this, there
will still be no constitutional drama. This will remain a tawdry tale about
Arkansas, sex, and politics. If the networks want to fill some time while
waiting for the next revelation, a few retrospectives on the grotesque misdeeds
of the Nixon and Reagan administrations would be in order.
But really, let's stop the self-flagellation. This is scandal played out as
pop culture, and it's precisely what the media of the '90s are suited for. And
though the handwringers don't like to admit it, these moments -- the O.J.
Simpson trial, the Louise Woodward case, the Princess Di funeral -- teach us a
lot about society and ourselves.
To wit: Bill Clinton is a politician who executed a brain-damaged inmate in
order to help him win a primary; who proposed a welfare-reform plan that would
have improved the lives of the poor, yet -- after he failed to push it through
Congress -- cravenly signed a Republican scheme that will hurt them; who in
1992 promised a middle-class tax cut the country couldn't afford, then reversed
himself within minutes of his inauguration. Not to engage in psychobabble, but
the connection between his sexual and political lives seems clear. This is a
man who will invariably opt for what feels good at the moment. Social critic
Wendy Kaminer was everywhere last week, telling anyone with a camera that she's
more bothered by Clinton's policy misdeeds than by his sexual behavior. Doesn't
she see the connection?
And what does it say about us that we don't care about Clinton's personal
life, even though he talks incessantly about ours? What does it say about the
state of feminism when women who were rightly outraged by Clarence Thomas's
pubic-hair-on-the-soda-can routine can't bring themselves to criticize the
alleged sexual exploitation of a starry-eyed 21-year-old? What does it say
about our attitudes regarding sexual harassment in the workplace?
In a brilliant essay in
Salon this week,
leftist journalist Christopher Hitchens, who was a contemporary of Clinton's at
Oxford, draws the connection this way: "Now we have the bulbous Baptist Clinton
who preaches sexual abstinence for teens, an inquisition for homosexuals in
uniform, cutoffs for welfare mothers with insufficient moral fiber, and a
V-chip to impose childish standards on an already infantile mass medium. And
his apologists want everyone to be strictly nonjudgmental."
A quarter-century ago, a president of the United States committed some of
the worst constitutional crimes in our nation's history. The media mostly
ignored the wrongdoing, and had it not been for the persistence of two young,
unknown reporters named Woodward and Bernstein, Richard Nixon would probably
have finished out his term instead of being forced to resign in the disgrace he
so richly deserved.
Now another president is in trouble, and once again the guardians of all
that is right and good and responsible are telling the media to back off. It
was a mistake then. It would be a mistake now. No, Clinton's no Nixon, nor even
a Reagan, but that's not an excuse to ease up. The press should stop looking at
the polls and start looking for the truth.
Articles from July 24, 1997 & before can be accessed here