ROGER SIMON COLUMN
OCTOBER 29, 2003
WASHINGTON - - Even though just about everybody in American politics speaks English, sometimes their English needs translation. We provide that service today:
SITUATION: Politicians go to extraordinary lengths not to call each other liars, even while accusing each other of lying.
This week Arizona senator and former Republican presidential candidate John McCain gave an interview to Howard Fineman of Newsweek about the war in Iraq.
“This is the first time that I have seen a parallel to Vietnam,” McCain said, “in terms of information that the administration is putting out versus the actual situation on the ground.”
TRANSLATION: Bush is lying. McCain tried to dress it up by saying there is a difference between the “information that the administration is putting out” and what is actually happening in the real world. But the translation is clear: McCain, who ran against Bush for the Republican nomination in 2000, thinks Bush is lying to the American people and the lies are serious enough to make them a “parallel to Vietnam.”
SITUATION: In a Rose Garden press conference this week, President Bush said that the White House staff had not produced the famous “Mission Accomplished” banner he stood in front of aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln on May 1 and that the banner was put up by crew members. (The banner is now somewhat of an embarrassment since the United State mission in Iraq is still clearly going on and will be for some time.)
“I know it was attributed somehow to some ingenious advance man from my staff,” Bush said. “They weren’t that ingenious, by the way.”
TRANSLATION: The White House Staff approved the banner, made the banner, brought it to the ship and positioned it behind the president so it would show up on TV as he spoke.
According to a Navy spokesman, however, the banner was, as the president said, the “idea” of the ship.
SITUATION: U.S. Rep. Jesse Jackson Jr., D-Ill., the son of Rev. Jesse Jackson, announced this week his plans to endorse Howard Dean for president.
This was immediately denounced by the Rev. Al Sharpton, who is running against Dean for the Democratic nomination.
“Any so-called African-American leader that would endorse Dean despite his anti-black record is mortgaging the future of our struggle for civil rights and social justice…” Sharpton, who is African-American, said.
TRANSLATION: Any black leader who would endorse a white guy when he could endorse a black guy, namely Al Sharpton, is selling out the civil rights movement, according to Sharpton.
And, although he choose to attack Dean for having an “anti-black record,” this is the same thing as calling Dean a racist, something Sharpton has never done to Dean’s face, even though they have debated on national TV several times.
SITUATION: Rep. Jackson says in response to the Sharpton: "I also don't understand Rev. Sharpton’s attempt to introduce 'race' into the campaign by using such rhetoric as `anti-black' with respect to Gov. Dean. I challenge all of the other candidates to urge Rev. Sharpton to resist using such inflammatory rhetoric.”
TRANSLATION: Al Sharpton thinks he’s my father, Rep. Jackson is saying, but he isn’t now and never will be. My father wouldn’t be dumb enough to call the Democratic front-runner a racist - - not before he found out what he could get out of him anyway.
SITUATION: Rep. Jackson is endorsing Dean very early in the process. The Illinois primary isn’t until March 16, by which time the race for the nomination probably will be over, but Jackson is not waiting even until after the New Hampshire primary in January to see if Dean is the real deal or not.
TRANSLATION: Rep. Jackson believes Dean is going to win the nomination. The train is leaving the station. And Jackson wants to get on board while there are still good seats to be handed out.
ROGER SIMON COLUMN
OCTOBER 27, 2003
WASHINGTON - - Few have taken a look at this year's Democratic presidential candidates and have decided they suffer from an excess of fun.
Yet stomping out fun is what the nine Democratic contenders, aided and abetted by the Democratic National Committee, have decided to do in pledging not to participate in a straw poll in Florida.
Straw polls, in which people cast meaningless votes for president just for the heck of it, have been banned by the party as "potentially divisive." No wonder Democratic stalwart Andrew Cuomo says in his new book that Democratic candidates have become "bloodless, soulless and clueless."
Straw polls are almost always bloody, raucous, goofy, and clued-in to what people might actually want in a president. Which is reason enough for some candidates to fear them.
The term "straw poll" comes from John Seldon (1584-1654), who wrote, "Take a straw and throw it up into the Air - - you may see by that which way the Wind is."
In refusing to participate in anything as vulgar as a straw poll, the Democrats seem to be saying, "We can be just as dull as Republicans if you give us half a chance." But here they have miscalculated.
Republicans love straw polls. The Grand Old Party works very hard to make them a cross between the Roman senate and a Roman circus. Straw polls almost always make news. The media spend weeks telling everyone how meaningless straw polls are - - and then show up in droves to report on them.
In 1987, the Iowa straw poll - - dubbed the "Presidential Cavalcade of Stars" - - was held in a huge basketball arena in Ames. Jack Kemp tossed little rubber footballs to the crowd. Pat Robertson supporters, wearing revolving lights on their heads, sailed hundreds of Styrofoam airplanes through the air. As airhorns blasted continuously, each candidate was given 15 minutes to speak. ("Did you say 15 minutes?" Kemp wailed before his speech. "It takes me an hour and a half to watch '60 Minutes'!")
As part of the 1996 campaign, Florida Republicans hosted a straw poll in Orlando that Bob Dole decided he would win the old-fashioned way: by buying people stuff. Delegates to the convention got free Godiva chocolates, bath oils, fruit baskets, hotel rooms, booze, food and dance lessons, all courtesy of the Dole campaign. Dole spent an incredible $2 million campaigning for an event that would elect not a single delegate to the Republican National Convention.
He spent $20,000 to rent a parking lot that he called "Camp Bob," where there were live bands, games for the kids, free food, and a man on stilts juggling Indian clubs. Dole got 33% of the vote, Phil Gramm got 26% and it was looked upon as a victory for Gramm.
Which is why some hate straw polls. Candidates spend all this dough and the media get to interpret the winner, anyway.
"Straw polls buy into a focus on a horse-race culture and detract from a debate on real issues," says Josh Wachs, chief operating officer of the DNC. "Straw polls are artificial, expensive and unnecessary."
Sure, straw poll fans say, but that could describe a lot of things in presidential campaigning, including most of the candidates. Besides, straw polls are exciting! Where else do you see people with lights on their heads these days? Or jugglers on stilts? And let's not forget the free Godiva chocolates.
"The state of Florida is the pivotal state in the general election and we want our folks activated and energized now!" says Florida Democratic Chairman Scott Maddox, who is pushing hard for a straw poll at the state convention Dec. 5-7.
He says that while all nine candidates have signed a no-straw poll pledge, they will show up and participate anyway. "They ignore Florida at their peril," he says. "The people at this convention are going to be the boots on the ground in 2004, the boots that get out votes."
As the battle rages, the DNC says labor unions and influential Florida politicians will soon come out against a straw poll. The DNC will also offer a compromise: All nine candidates will go down to the Florida convention to speak - - just along as there is no straw poll.
Maddox says the state central committee will meet on Nov. 16 to vote on whether to hold a straw poll or not.
The betting is that candidates like Wesley Clark, who pulled out of Iowa recently, might want a public test of his popularity in Florida and Howard Dean, who has raised enough money to buy Godiva chocolates for everyone in the continental United States, wouldn't mind "wasting" a few dollars there.
"Do you think the candidates will all skip a straw poll?" Maddox asked incredulously. "Every dollar or minute of time spent in Florida will pay back dividends in the general election."
So would a Florida straw poll be a terrible waste of resources or money well spent? Former Tennessee Gov. Lamar Alexander, who ran for president in 2000, but dropped out after a poor showing in the Iowa straw poll, had these words of wisdom when he withdrew: "It's always said that half the money in any campaign is wasted. You just don't know which half until it's over."
ROGER SIMON COLUMN
OCTOBER 22, 2003
WASHINGTON - - For sheer journalistic tenacity and guts, it is hard to beat Garry Trudeau, the creator of Doonesbury.
I remember during Ronald Reagan’s presidency, when even mild criticism of Reagan was guaranteed to bring in a deluge of angry letters and phone calls, Trudeau would whack Reagan in strip after strip.
You might violently disagree with what Trudeau says and draws, but you can’t accuse him of cutting and running.
This week, Trudeau took on one of the most popular people in California, Gov.-elect Arnold Schwarzenegger, whose smashing victory a few weeks ago silenced almost all criticism of him.
In a Doonesbury strip that appeared Wednesday, Trudeau raises an issue that Schwarzenegger wants to go away: allegations that he molested women.
During the campaign, Schwarzenegger was accused by 15 women of groping them or otherwise touching them sexually against their will.
The Los Angeles Times printed their accusations in chilling detail and a number of the alleged victims allowed their names to be used.
At first, Schwarzenegger did not deny the stories. He gave a speech and said “where there’s smoke there’s fire” and apologized to anybody he might have “offended.”
Schwarzenegger’s own internal poll numbers dipped and on Oct. 5, two days before the election, Schwarzenegger gave an interview to NBC’s Tom Brokaw in an attempt to douse the flames.
The entire interview is fascinating - - Schwarzenegger repeatedly portrays himself as the victim - - but here are a few key passages:
SCHWARZENEGGER: Well, first of all, a lot of it is made-up stories. I have never grabbed anyone and pulled up their shirt and grabbed their breasts and stuff like that. This is not me. So there's a lot of this stuff going on and a lot of stories.
BROKAW: So you deny all those stories about grabbing?
SCHWARZENEGGER: No, not all. But I'm just saying this is not - - this is not me….
BROKAW: Governor (Gray) Davis is saying today that you have an obligation to answer specifically the charges that have been made against you by 15 women now. You either have to call those women and their families liars, or give specific responses to the charges that they have made. Are you prepared to do that?
SCHWARZENEGGER: Governor Davis owes the people of California an apology for what he has done to this state. He owes them an explanation. He should talk to the people of California because what he has done to this state is terrible.
BROKAW: But you're not going to be any more specific about these charges, in terms of your denials?
SCHWARZENEGGER: As soon as the campaign is over, I will - - I can get into all of those kind of specifics and find out what is really going on, but right now I'm just really occupied with the campaign.
Got that? Schwarzenegger promised to address the specifics of the charges against him “as soon as the campaign is over.”
Well, two days after the campaign was over, a reporter asked him when he was going to address the charges.
“Old news,” Schwarzenegger said and walked away.
On the last day of the recall campaign, the Democratic Attorney General of California, Bill Lockyer, said that even though the statute of limitations had run out on bringing criminal charges against Schwarzenegger for his behavior, “Arnold should volunteer” for an “investigation to clear up these charges.”
“There’s too many of them, they’re disturbing, the volume is disturbing,” Lockyer said.
But that was before Schwarzenegger won. After he won, Lockyer announced that he had voted for Schwarzenegger and as to the allegations of groping and other improper touching, “I’m convinced Arnold didn’t really understand that he was caught up in frat-boy behavior.”
Which does not exactly make Lockyer a profile in courage. But that is what happens when somebody wins big. A lot of critics figure that the people have spoken, so why keep digging dirt?
Trudeau has an explanation on his website for why he isn’t letting go: “This isn’t about Clinton-style promiscuity or mutual consent workouts. This is about hateful, hurtful, criminal behavior - - 30 years of harassment and battery. If Arnold has changed, it happened yesterday. (It’s a) legitimate subject.”
The Schwarzenegger campaign has its own explanation for why Schwarzenegger has not fulfilled his promise to Brokaw and the public to provide details. His press secretary said Schwarzenegger is fulfilling his pledge by having his staff “search for eyewitnesses to the incidents.”
And O.J. is still looking for the true killer of his wife.
ROGER SIMON COLUMN
OCTOBER 20, 2003
WASHINGTON - - It was back in 1976 that Jimmy Carter revolutionized the way presidential candidates campaigned by vowing to enter every primary and caucus on the Democratic calendar.
A number of political analysts bashed him severely for his audacity. As everyone knew, a candidate had to pick his targets carefully. Enter a primary here and a caucus there, build up a head of steam, get some good publicity and gather your strength and your delegates.
Campaigning everywhere, popular wisdom had it, was a waste of resources and probably impossible.
But Carter won the nomination and won the general election and presidential campaigning has never been the same. (Carl Leubsdorf, Washington bureau chief of the Dallas Morning News and an expert on such things, tells me he remembers Gerald Ford making the same pledge as Carter in 1976. If that is so, the strategy worked for both candidates in the primaries.)
Ever since then, candidates entered every contest they could find, the media followed, this was very good for business and states vied with each other to have early primaries so their contests would still matter in the selection of a presidential nominee.
But two states jealously guarded their “first in the nation” status: Iowa, which holds the first caucus and New Hampshire, which holds the first primary.
Just why Iowa is first, by the way, tells you something very instructive about American politics. It’s a goofy patchwork of the serious and the inane that, somehow, gets the job done:
Iowa is first in the nation because the Iowa Democratic party had lousy office equipment. The precinct caucuses in Iowa, which get all the attention, are only the first step in selecting delegates that go to the national convention. After the precinct caucuses come the district caucuses and then the state caucus. And in between each, a great deal of information has to be printed up and handed out. In 1972, the Iowa Democratic Party had an old mimeograph machine that worked at a slow and deliberate speed. (If you don’t know what a mimeograph machine is either go to Google or ask your grandfather.) "We had to give it enough time to print the material between the precinct and district caucuses," Clif Larson, then chairman of the party, said. "The only way to do that was move up the precinct date to January."
And that is how Iowa became first in the nation.
But Iowa presents a predicament for the candidates. First, it is a caucus, which means there is no secret ballot, voters cannot vote throughout the day, but must gather together at the same time, the candidates must surpass a “threshold” before votes for them count, and certain other reasons that I don’t expect any sane person to understand. All this means you need a large and effective organization.
Second, Iowa is a rural state where agriculture and related industries have an enormous impact on the economy. The voters and the local media, therefore, expect the candidates to have a serious farm policy, which means a farm policy that works to the benefit of farmers even if it doesn’t always work to the benefit of the rest of the nation. It also means that candidates who have spent time in Congress and have voted in the best interests of their states, but not necessarily in the best interests of farmers, can have a hard time in Iowa.
There is another predicament that candidates have with Iowa: It is in the Midwest. Almost all presidential candidates live in and around Washington, D.C. and getting to Iowa can mean switching planes and can take a number of hours. Getting to New Hampshire, whose primary follows Iowa by eight days, is a lot faster and cheaper. “I can just fly Southwest!” John McCain used to say in 2000.
Even though some candidates (like Al Gore in 1988) did skip Iowa and headed straight to New Hampshire, the 2000 presidential primary race presented an interesting case study in which the main challenger to the front-runner in each party differed on whether to skip Iowa.
On the Republican side, McCain skipped Iowa, practically lived in New Hampshire, and beat his rival, George Bush, there by a stunning 18 percentage points.
On the Democratic side, Bill Bradley campaigned in Iowa, got slaughtered by Gore by 28 percentage points. Bradley then limped into New Hampshire where he narrowly lost to Gore by 4 percentage points.
If Bradley had not wasted time and resources in Iowa, could he have beaten Gore in New Hampshire and turned the Democratic race into a real contest?
Nobody knows, but over the weekend both Wesley Clark and Joe Lieberman announced they were skipping Iowa in order to concentrate on New Hampshire and the contests that follow. They obviously believe the lesson of 2000 was: If you don’t have a chance to win Iowa, skip it.
Some politicians in Iowa are understandably upset. They feel insulted and worry that more candidates might skip the state in the future, diminishing Iowa’s importance. And they point out that John McCain did not become president in 2000 and so candidates skip the state at their peril.
Iowa had nothing to do with McCain’s eventual loss to Bush, however. (South Carolina, now there’s another story.) But how about if either Clark or Lieberman manages to win the Democratic nomination? Might Iowans vote against them in the general election out of anger?
Well, maybe, but you’ve got to play the game you are in: You have to win the nomination before you can win the general election.
Clark and Lieberman are doing the smart thing. They may not get their party’s nod. But if they don’t, it won’t be because they skipped Iowa.
ROGER SIMON COLUMN
OCTOBER 15, 2003
WASHINGTON - - It is easy to forget, given his stunning victory, that Arnold Schwarzenegger is not exactly an expert on the ways of politics or government.
Even though he went from promoting “Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines” to governor-elect of California in a dazzling 60 days, in one area he is downright naïve.
Schwarzenegger actually thinks the political press corps is on his side. Or, at the very least, he thinks the media can be charmed, cajoled or threatened into being on his side.
Obviously, he knows that the Los Angeles Times, which printed the accounts of 15 women accusing him of groping or otherwise molesting them, is not on his side. But his staff has now targeted the Times as one of the forces of evil that Schwarzenegger defeated.
On election night, I asked Rob Stutzman, a top Schwarzenegger aide, about the significance of the Schwarzenegger victory and he said: “This was a large victory not just in the rejection of (incumbent governor) Gray Davis, but the last-minute, gotcha journalism of the Los Angeles Times. It was a repudiation of Gray and the media.”
Stutzman didn’t mean the whole media. In general, the Schwarzenegger campaign loved the media, especially television celebrities like Oprah Winfrey and Jay Leno, who were very helpful to Schwarzenegger. (Leno went so far as to introduce Schwarzenegger at his victory celebration. Leno is not a journalist, so I guess he has no ethical line to cross, but it makes you wonder how ordinary candidates can compete when superstar candidates and superstar media personalities band together.)
But why do I say Schwarzenegger really doesn’t get the news media? Because of this: Schwarzenegger held a press conference the day after his victory (which was a very good sign, I thought) in a large ballroom. Some 60 camera crews from around the world set up their equipment early in the day and print and still photographers showed up an hour early to grab seats.
Schwarzenegger entered from stage right, trailing his ever-present security team and Stutzman. His supporting cast walked only a few paces with him, however, and then let him make the longish walk to the lectern alone.
It was very dramatic and cried out for applause - - except the press doesn’t applaud. Ever. We don’t applaud presidents and we don’t applaud governors. We don’t applaud the newsmakers we cover. The rule is a simple one: No cheering in the press box.
Which Schwarzenegger didn’t seem to realize and didn’t seem to like.
“Don’t get too excited with your applause,” he said sarcastically when he took his place.
I don’t think he was upset. But I do think he was surprised. He actually thought the press would applaud for him. He was a performer who had just given a star performance. He had just won this terrific election! Didn’t that deserve a little applause? A little recognition? A little love?
An excellent article last Sunday by Todd Purdum in the New York Times quotes Leo Braudy, a professor of English at the University of Southern California who is an expert on celebrities. Braudy explained why pro-wrestler-turned-politician Jesse Ventura, had a difficult time as governor of Minnesota.
''Celebrities are used to adulation, used to having their own way, used to having everybody happy to see them,” Braudy said. “You walk into the State Senate, the budget committee, they're not happy to see you.''
Schwarzenegger will face the same problem. The audience is different now and there won’t necessarily be the roar of the crowd when he enters a room. In fact, he sometimes will face audiences - - especially in a California state legislature controlled by Democrats - - that are hostile and this may be a first for him.
The press is not hostile (or is not supposed to be.) It is indifferent. Which has come as a surprise to Schwarzenegger. At the end of his first press conference, he made an extraordinary statement, which shows, I believe, how little he understands the media treatment he is about to get as governor.
"Please do me a favor,” he said to the reporters. “Stay with me the next three years, because you are absolutely essential for me to get my message out there. I really appreciate your being a part of this campaign."
Part of this campaign? Stay with him? Is that what he really expects? Well, on that day he did. But maybe not any more.
At his first press conference, he got no tough questions. At his second, the next day, however, a reporter shouted to him as he was walking away from the lectern that he had promised NBC’s Tom Brokaw that he would explain the specifics of the groping incidents “as soon as the campaign is over.”
Well, the campaign was now over, so how about those specifics?
“Old news,” Schwarzenegger said tersely and continued walking.
Since then, he has stopped having daily press conferences. Since then, I’ll bet he has been wondering how a reporter who was supposed to “stay with” him could ask such a question and whether it will be asked again and again.
Welcome to the real world, Gov. Schwarzenegger.
ROGER SIMON COLUMN
OCTOBER 13, 2003
LOS ANGELES - - On the morning of October 7, an
earthquake measuring 3.6 on the Richter Scale rattled
Southern California. By that evening, however, the
entire state had been shaken up.
The second tremor came in the form of Arnold Schwarzenegger, the
Austrian-born bodybuilder and high-body-count actor, who
had been a professional politician for exactly 62 days but had
now beaten an incumbent governor with nearly 30 years of political experience.
Through California’s bizarre recall law, which allows citizens to dump officeholders for any (or no) reason, Schwarzenegger had surfed a tsunami of voter anger all the way to the governor’s chair in Sacramento, which he will assume in mid-November.
Some 31 times in the past, California voters
had tried to get rid of their governors - - they tried to jettison
Ronald Reagan three times - - but this was the first time they
had ever succeeded.
Why this time? And while the media immediately used the
Schwarzenegger victory as an excuse to commit sociology, does
his victory really mark a national trend with wider implications?
Or was it the result of the coming together of three
strands unlikely to be found outside California:
One, an incumbent unsuited to the demands of modern campaigning.
Two, a recall law that does not demand misfeasance, malfeasance, or nonfea
sance to be proved against the incumbent
Three, a method of election that allowed the pro-choice, pro-gun safety, pro-gay rights Schwarzenegger to avoid a Republican primary
that he might well have lost to a more conservative candidate.
The bland incumbent, Gray Davis, thought he knew why he
was facing defeat. “I never underestimate an actor who is a
celebrity,” Davis said on the eve of the election. “This is California; celebrities are a big deal here.”
The very excitement generated by a superstar candidate not only helped Schwarzenegger during the campaign but helped doom his opponent: Davis had managed to win statewide office five times because he didn’t really
have to go out and campaign. California is so vast physically
and media interest, especially TV interest, has been so low
in recent years that candidates campaign largely via TV commercials. At this, Davis did well.
But the explosion of interest caused by Schwarzenegger forced the candidates to
go out and do actual campaign events in front of real people so television would have something to broadcast.
Schwarzenegger proved adept at providing good sound bites: He kept his speeches to just a few minutes, he avoided specifics, and he presented a message of optimism and hope.
In desperation, Davis held a series of town meet
ings, but this did not help much. Often arrogant and always
defensive, Davis reminded voters why they disliked him.
But Schwarzenegger needed something more than soundbites - - there are 1.3 million more Democrats than Republicans in California - - and that something, which has been taken seriously by politicians ever since
the term-limit movement of the 1990s, was empowering the
angry.
It was perfect for California, where voters were not just
angry but in a white-hot fury. That fury had been directed
at Davis ever since the electricity blackouts of 2000 and 2001,
which resulted in higher utility bills, and the collapse of the California economy, which created multibillion-dollar budget deficits that led to a tripling of the car tax, which caused vehicle license fees to jump
from about $70 to $210 for the average passenger car.
“Our most difficult task was getting people to see Arnold
as a plausible governor in difficult times,” a top aide to
Schwarzenegger told me. “I mean here was a guy with
no political experience. He had just come off a movie. And
he wanted to go from Terminator 3 to governor in 60 days.”
Schwarzenegger was doing well, however, until less than a week before Election Day, disaster struck: The Los Angeles Times began printing in chilling
detail accusations by women that Schwarzenegger had groped
and improperly touched them. The number of accusers eventually rose to 15, and Schwarzenegger, who had just begun a four-day bus trip - - exactly the kind of big-time campaign event he had wanted - - was forced to apologize to any woman he had “offended.”
Schwarzenegger’s poll numbers dipped, and the campaign
was clearly worried. Women are 52 percent of likely voters
in California.
But Schwarzenegger did have powerful friends, who
helped minimize the impact. Leno said in one of his nightly
monologues: “You’ve got Arnold who groped a few women, or
Davis who screwed the whole state.”
Then Davis handed Schwarzenegger an unexpected boost. At first,
Davis refused to comment on the accusations against Schwarzenegger.
But he soon went into attack mode, bringing the
accusations up again and again and suggesting that
Schwarzenegger might face criminal prosecution. Almost immediate
ly, Schwarzenegger’s poll numbers improved. People had been reminded
of what they didn’t like about Davis: his negativity.
“When Davis embraced the scandal stories, our numbers shot
up,” Sipple says.
In the end it was a blowout: Voters turned Davis out of office by a vote of 55 percent to 45 percent and elected Schwarzenegger over his nearest competitor by a vote of 49 percent to 32 percent.
Sipple is convinced that Schwarzenegger will work hard and let nothing sully his governorship. “Governor of California is the highest job he can achieve given his citizenship,” Sipple says.
Maybe. Republican Sen. Orrin Hatch of Utah has already
introduced a resolution to amend the Constitution to allow
foreign-born citizens who have lived here for 20 years to ascend to the White House.
“If Arnold Schwarzenegger turns out to be the greatest governor of California, which I hope he will, if he turns out to be a tremendous leader and he proves to
everybody in this country that he’s totally dedicated to this
country as an American, we would be wrong not to give him
that opportunity,” Hatch says.
President Schwarzenegger? It might sound funny now, but
so did Governor Schwarzenegger a few months ago.
And as Schwarzenegger likes to say in both his movies and his speeches: “I’ll be back!”
ROGER SIMON COLUMN
OCTOBER 8, 2003
LOS ANGELES - - Gray Davis realized he was doomed when the focus group results came back. They showed just how much Californians really hated him.
The governor of California was facing a recall vote for the first time in the state’s history. Some 31 times in the past, angry voters had circulated petitions to recall a governor - - they tried to get rid of Ronald Reagan three times - - but they had always failed to get enough signatures.
Now, however, some 1.6 million Californians had signed petitions and the recall of Gray Davis was on. So the Davis campaign, which was made up of some very talented people, went into high gear and immediately started doing focus groups in a suburb of San Francisco.
The results were awful. The joke turned out to be true: Gray Davis was a unifying force in California politics - - everybody hated him.
People had different reasons: the energy crisis, the loss of jobs, the increase in the automobile tax. But it went way beyond issues. People didn’t like Davis on a personal level.
He was cold, he was aloof, he was arrogant, he was distant. The list went on and on.
“We realized there was no silver bullet,” a top Davis aide told me. “We realized there was no easy solution.”
To make matters worse, the election was an odd one: It would not be Davis head-to-head with his opponents.
His 135 opponents would all run against each other, but Davis had to run against himself. He would have to convince people to vote no on the recall.
Negative campaigning, which was a specialty of his, might not necessarily work, therefore. Dirtying up Arnold Schwarzenegger, for instance, might lower Schwarzenegger’s support, but it would not necessarily translate into a no vote on recall.
It was very confusing. Which was when Davis realized he was doomed once again. At one focus group, the group was shown a slide-show explaining the two-part recall process. The presentation explained how there was Question One on the recall and Question Two on a replacement. Then, an expert gave a little talk about the recall and answered questions.
Then, a campaign aide asked the group about the recall. And the group was still confused. They still did not get it. And these were educated people who had just had the recall explained to them.
Which led to the third example of Davis’ doom. Davis lives in a modest condominium in a modest condo project in Los Angeles. He gets his own mail each morning and often runs into the same elderly woman when she is getting hers.
A few weeks ago, she stopped him at the mailboxes and said, “Oh, governor, we are so upset at what they are trying to do to you, that we are not going to vote on Question One at all!”
Davis was horrified. He tried to explain to her that if she didn’t vote no on Question One, he would probably be turned out of office.
The confusion was real. But that was not the real problem, however. The real problem was Davis, himself. How do you change a man’s personality in a few weeks?
The campaign decided Davis would do a series of “town hall” meetings all over the state. He would let the people see the real him.
Which was, of course, a disaster. The real Gray Davis was defensive and not ready to admit he had done anything wrong. The bad economy was a national problem. The energy problem was caused by greedy utilities. The car tax had been mandated by his predecessor. And so on and so forth.
“People wanted to see him make a human connection,” his aide told me.
But they didn’t see it.
What people wanted was a nice man, but what they got was an ice man.
This was a man, after all, who eats the same food every day. He has a tofu shake for breakfast, a turkey sandwich on wheat for lunch and grilled salmon or grilled chicken for dinner. Every day. Without fail.
In other words, this is not a man to whom change comes easily.
Which, in the end, doomed him.
He was not likeable in a political era when being liked means everything.
“I’m like a baseball manager,” Davis said. “If the team loses, you take the blame and sometimes you have to say good-bye.”
This week, the voters of California said good-bye to him.
ROGER SIMON COLUMN
OCTOBER 6, 2003
LOS ANGELES - - It was in the fall of 1994 that I sat in a courtroom in this city and watched a jury being selected for the O.J. Simpson criminal trial.
As each prospective juror sat in the jury box and answered questions, Simpson grinned at them. He did not, as some defendants do, avoid making eye-contact. Instead, he beamed at each prospective juror and smiled. And most beamed and smiled back.
Simpson was a big, big celebrity and some seemed tickled pink to be in the same room with him.
It was at the end of that first day that I told friends and colleagues that Simpson would go free.
“That’s ridiculous,” one friend said. “You haven’t heard a day of testimony. They haven’t even selected the jury yet.”
I said it didn’t matter. Simpson was a master at getting people to like him. And, at its most basic, that is what a jury trial is all about.
Arnold Schwarzenegger is also a big, big celebrity. He is not on trial for anything. On the contrary, if you believe the most recent polls, he is about to become the next governor of California.
If he does win on Tuesday, he can credit one thing: His ability to get people to like him. Which, at its most basic, is what politics is all about.
As I write this, no fewer than 15 women have come forward to say Schwarzenegger grabbed or groped them against their will, with the four latest saying he fondled, spanked or touched them.
The Los Angeles Times, which broke the story, recounted their accusations in chilling detail.
As of Sunday, 1,000 readers of the Los Angeles Times had cancelled their subscriptions to protest the printing of the accusations against Schwarzenegger and about 400 people had called to criticize the paper.
Schwarzenegger has denied some of the incidents, but has admitted others saying “where there is smoke, there is fire” and apologizing to any women that he might have “offended.”
There may have been a time in American life when admitting to assaulting women would have disqualified a person from public office. But that time has passed.
(While Bill Clinton was finally forced to admit to having had sexual relations with women other than his wife, he denies having forced himself on anyone.)
While the polls in California have narrowed since the accusations surfaced, there has been a surprising lack of public outcry against Schwarzenegger. In one poll, Schwarzenegger leads among women and the media have reported that in some crowds there are women holding signs saying, “Arnold, grope me!”
“Because he is Hollywood, he gets a certain kind of pass,” Arnold Steinberg, a Republican strategist, told the New York Times. “There is a different way of judging people. He and his campaign have been able to do a tremendous job in surmounting attacks on his character and inconsistencies.”
It is not just that he is a celebrity. Schwarzenegger is a sexy celebrity. And that is part of the pass he gets.
So the current governor, Gray Davis, who is neither a celebrity nor sexy, can make all the accusations he wants. He says that the allegations of groping by Schwarzenegger ''raise serious questions about whether he can govern California. Californians should be left with one question: Are all these women and their families lying, or is Mr. Schwarzenegger telling the truth?''
But that is not the question that Californians seem to be left with. The questions seems to be, “Who cares? The guy is a star and stars live by different rules.”
As Schwarzenegger’s spokesman, Sean Walsh, said: “Arnold has stated, when he began his campaign, that he did not live his life under the expectation that he would someday be governor.”
But that - - 15 groping, grabbing, fondling, spanking allegations later - - is exactly the expectation he has today.
WASHINGTON - - I can’t remember how many Democratic presidential debates I have been to this year.
Some have been authorized by the party and some have not. Some have featured all the candidates and some have not. Some have been on a single theme and some have been wide-ranging.
But they have all shared one quality: It is difficult to remember a single thing about them.
Take the debate I went to last week in New York. At two hours, it was the longest debate yet. But there were 10 candidates - - and they had to share their time with three panelists and one moderator - - so how much total time did any candidate get to speak? Six minutes? Seven?
The candidates were told they had to keep their answers to one minute in the beginning of the debate and to 30 seconds at the end.
But can anybody make a reasonable case for any serious or complicated topic or issue in 30 or even 60 seconds?
(Debate answers used to be much longer before TV starting controlling debates. TV insists on short answers because it keeps the show moving along. The needs of good TV always trump the needs of good government.)
But there is a more fundamental question: Are debates the best format in which to see the candidates?
The candidates would much prefer forums, at which they go on stage one by one, deliver a 20-minute address and take questions from the audience.
But the media much prefer debates because debates are thought to be more exciting. And by more exciting, I mean they have a higher probability for disaster.
Most people watch presidential debates for the same reason most people watch the Indy 500: To see who crashes and burns.
From the beginning, televised debates were remembered for their disasters rather than any substantive issues.
In 1960, Richard Nixon’s makeup looked lousy on TV and Nixon lost. (It looked fine to the reporters in the TV studio, who thought Nixon had won the debate. But they soon learned that how a candidate looked on TV was what counted. Nearly 90 percent of the voting public watched one of the Nixon-Kennedy debates that year.)
In 1976, Gerald Ford stumbled badly when he assured the world there was "no Soviet domination of Eastern Europe."
In 1988, Dan Quayle was on his way to winning his vice presidential debate against Lloyd Bentsen when he stumbled into a trap by comparing himself to Jack Kennedy.
The same year, Michael Dukakis doomed whatever chances he might have had for the presidency by not showing sufficient “passion” when CNN’s Bernard Shaw asked him if he would favor the death penalty for his wife’s imaginary rapist and killer. (“Bernie Shaw asked him the wrong question,” one Democratic consultant said afterwards. “He should have asked him how he would feel if his favorite regional planner was raped and murdered.”)
In 1992, George Bush had been caught impatiently looking at his wristwatch during a town-meeting style debate, which reinforced the notion that he did not care about ordinary people.
The odd thing about modern debates, however, is that there is no pretense that they are anything except pure theater. It is one of the few moments in modern politicking when the campaigns pull back the curtain and tell everybody they can take a look at the man back there pulling the levers and flipping the switches. And the public seems to enjoy it immensely.
Though most candidates for president have spent their lifetimes shaping and addressing issues, the public finds it quite natural that these men should have to spend days rehearsing before they can go out on stage and talk about the same issues.
The candidates memorize questions and answers from huge briefing books, the better to regurgitate the answers when debate time comes.
The public knows in advance, in other words, that the debates are solely about performance.
We know that debates have nothing to do with finding out how a candidate will react as president. (Presidents don’t make decisions with 30-second stopwatches running or with cameras in their faces).
Debate performance has little to nothing to do with how well a candidate actually grasps an issue. What a debate really measures is how well a candidate can demonstrate - - rather than actually possess - - knowledge, passion and concern.
And in terms of presidential campaigning, seeming to know something is much more important than actually knowing it.