Andrew Ross

Whitewater: Parade of the red herrings

After spending $30 million, poring over 250,000 documents and investigating half the state of Arkansas the Republicans have produced nothing but "suspicions."

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Drip. Drip. Drip. Another “newly-discovered” Whitewater document here, more “contradictory” testimony there, subpoenas everywhere. Fresh “revelations,” tossed out like morsels of bread, devoured by the angry flock of crows whose cawing, day by day, gets louder: “Cover-up.” “Obstruction of justice.” “Impeachment.”

White House aides call it “Groundhog Day,” after the movie in which Bill Murray experiences the same day over and over. And it won’t end any time soon. Special prosecutor Kenneth Starr is not likely to report much before election day. The Clintons’ one-time partner, Jim McDougal, faces a federal trial on charges similar to those he has already been acquitted of in state court.

House and Senate committee will continue to hold hearings, and are likely to range into ever more baroque territory. Watch for Sen. Alfonse D’Amato’s committee’s efforts to raise dark suspicions about the Clintons’ relationship with a convicted cokehead, while a House panel attempts to link them to drug smuggling and money laundering at Mena Airport in Arkansas. Having lost the budget battle, been trumped by Clinton on the values battle, and saddled with a lemon of a presidential candidate, the Republicans have nothing left but Whitewater — and the “character issue.”

They’ve already spent about $30 million, gone through 250,000 documents, and indicted or subpoenaed virtually the entire state of Arkansas, so it’s astonishing how little they have. Investigations conducted by the Resolution Trust Corporation and by former independent counsel Robert Fiske have exonerated the Clintons. But that wasn’t enough.

“Our deepest suspicions,” editorialized the Wall Street Journal recently, “are that back in Arkansas the Clinton tag team was engaged in a pattern of sleazy operations, and that when they arrived in Washington they abused the powers of the Presidency to thwart investigation of them…These are perhaps only suspicions, but various people keep asking.”

That’s it. After three years of constant pounding, reams of newsprint, and stacks of public records gone over with the finest of fine-toothed combs, that is the sum of the Wall Street Journal’s judgment. It has “suspicions,” albeit of the “deepest” nature. That’s only slightly more than Ted Koppel got out of D’Amato on a recent “Nightline.” What crimes, Koppel kept asking, are the Clintons supposed to have committed? D’Amato buried his head in his notes and mumbled about the need for more documents.

But neither does one come away from this affair with a particularly enhanced view of the Clintons. Not only did they respond in the most boneheaded ways as the Whitewater stories broke, they appear to have exercised execrable judgment during their Arkansas days. Why, for example, would they go into business in the first place with a demonstrable loose cannon like James McDougal — known, according to Arkansas Democrat-Gazette reporter, Meredith Oakley for “his volatile temper, his inattentiveness and the wild mood swings that were eventually diagnosed as manic-depression.”

The handling of “Travelgate” was every bit as sorry. The Clintons had every right to fire the
White House travel office staff; it does, after all, serve “at the pleasure of the President.” And as a Peat Marwick audit showed, the office was hardly a paragon of financial probity. But the Clintons’ timing — coming on the heels of the notorious $200 Christophe haircut and the “Troopergate” sex tryst allegations — could not have been more inept. “However valid the criticisms of the travel office were, the matter couldn’t have been handled worse,” wrote Elizabeth Drew in “On the Edge,” her closely-reported account of the first 18 months of the Clinton administration. “The picture that was drawn was of cronyism and looseness with the truth.”

None of which qualifies as a crime, but all of which is red meat for a press corps that the writer James Fallows says “has fallen into the habit of portraying public life in America as a race to the bottom.”
It’s particularly appetizing in what conservative scholar Suzanne Garment has called the era of “scandal politics,” whose ringmasters “are not content to throw the book at a political figure who becomes their target; instead they spend great effort figuring out how to hit him with the whole library.” Spread by imitation and retaliation, she writes, scandal politics “has become not only self-reinforcing but virtually endless in its prospects. It exercises a power over government and the public agenda that is now out of proportion to the benefits it brings in.”

What benefits, if any, will Whitewater bring? Another failed presidency? Perhaps it’s all a cunning Clinton plot, filled with false leads, red herrings and suddenly — hey, presto! — a pull of the handkerchief, and there’s nothing there! Now, who is the audience most likely to be mad at? Then again, the Republicans could always dredge up those old Troopergate trysts and jobs-for-silence allegations. Of course, no sooner is Bob Dole ensconced in the Oval Office than the Democrats will take a hard look at his wife’s business dealings (“Liddygate”). Or if it should be Lamar Alexander, well, he was the governor of one of the less clean states in the Union; there has to be something there (“Memphisgate”).

“Self-reinforcing and endless in its prospects.” The circus will never end.



Is there anything to Whitewater? Are there serious criminal ethical issues at stake or are we spending tens of millions of taxpayers’ dollars for purely political reasons? Go to Table Talk, click on the Issues category and go to the Hillary Clinton topic, where you will find the debate in full swing. (Remember to register if you haven’t already done so.)

Hating Hillary

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Con-gen-i-tal, adj.Belonging or pertaining to an individual from birth; resulting from one’s heredity or prenatal development; as a congenitaldisease, a congenitaldeformity. (Webster’s New Universal Unabridged Dictionary, 2nd Ed.).

If you read William Safire’s “On Language” column in the Sunday New York Times Magazine, you know this is a man who believes in choosing his words carefully. Woe betide anyone who uses a word or phrase with other than strictest linguistic accuracy. So, how to account for the following in Safire’s Jan. 8 op-ed “Essay”:

“Americans of all political persuasions are coming to the sad realization that our First Lady — a woman of undoubted talents who was a role model for many in her generation — is a congenitalliar.”

Could the Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist have meant congenial? “1. Having the same tastes, habits or temperament; sympathetic. 2. Suited to one’s needs; agreeable. (The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language).

That would seem to fit the usually sunny, outgoing Hillary Rodham Clinton, who reportedly charms everyone she meets. “Congenial” is listed immediately above “congenital” in most dictionaries, so maybe this was a case of simple human error. We awaited a “correction” or even a “clarification” from West 43d Street in the ensuing days. Alas, there was none, and we are forced to conclude that Safire meant what he said.

And what he seems to be saying that the tendency to lie is imprinted in Hillary Clinton’s bones. If Safire meant “congenital” in the heredity sense — that lying runs in the Rodham family — that’s quite a smear, even libelous perhaps, against Hillary Clinton’s living blood relatives. But then Safire, former speech writer to that most accomplished and proven of liars, Richard M. Nixon, learned from a master. And, of course, should the Rodham family seek legal redress, he would be the first to scream “First Amendment!”

More likely, Safire probably meant it in the sense of a birth defect, like a cleft palate. What he meant to say was that Hillary lied from the moment she opened her mouth. Maybe she lied before then — you know these girls and their lying eyes. She lied in kindergarten, lied in high school, lied at the dinner table, lied on her law school application. Every day of her lying life, she lies. It’s congenital.

In Hillary’s case, however, it is a defect to be scorned rather than pitied. And Safire’s attack seems motivated less by the veracity — or lack thereof — of Hillary’s versions of Travelgate, Whitewater, the Vincent Foster affair and her commodity trades, than by the kind of visceral hatred leveled at Hillary and Bill Clinton from the moment they entered the White House. Rhetoric like Safire’s is inflammatory and poisonous, and it creates a climate in which the less silver-tongued feel free to act more directly.

Surely Safire considers himself above the likes of Rush Limbaugh, G. Gordon Liddy and the other maniacs of the airwaves. But he, more than most, should know that words have consequences.

–Andrew Ross

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Pax Americana

plus Lucrative Losers and That Old Box Magic

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Whether the Bosnian peace agreement, in all its Rube Goldberg glory, has any chance at all is a guess best left to the pundits at this point. The Bosnian Serbs are exhausted, their leaders indicted as war criminals. Their patron, Serbian president Slobodan Milosevic, an opportunist to the end, long ago decided to cut his losses. On the other hand, the Bosnian Muslims are bound to harbor highly understandable desires for revenge, while the Croats, who have renamed their streets after World War II Nazi collaborators, may find their ambitions unsated.

But if one lesson has been hammered home — again — it is that this is a truly unipolar world, run largely by the United States. The Bosnian peace talks were held, not at the United Nations, nor in the European capitals of London or Paris, but at a U.S. Air Force base outside Dayton, Ohio. And while nobody walks away untainted from this ghastly war — including Washington, as spineless and wrongfooted as its early gestures were — the U.S. should get the credit for bringing the bloodbath to a close.

This new, post-Cold War pax Americana may be temporary, although it is likely to last at least until the end of the century. The dream of a new multilateralism led by the United Nations lies in ruins under the gory fields of Srebenica, where Dutch UN peacekeepers looked the other way while Serb soldiers carried out Europe’s biggest civilian massacre since WW II. NATO stands ready to enforce the Balkans peace, but only at the United States’ bidding. Western Europe, for all its sneeering at the bumbling Bill Clinton, is left silent, shamed, useless at best, an accomplice to mass murder at worst.

Americans, most of whom still could not spot Bosnia on a map, had better get used to their global mission. In Somalia, Haiti, the Middle East, the Persian Gulf, and now the Balkans — places in which we have material interests, as well as places where we don’t — America has held a candle, even if only a flickering one, when others have only cursed the darkness. That is something to be proud of, as our Bosnian peacekeeping role is furiously debated in the coming days.

–Andrew Ross




Lucrative losers

How do we get a scam like Marcia Clark’s? As a reward for blowing the “trial of the century,” she gets the third biggest nonfiction advance in the history of U.S. publishing. Gens. Colin Powell and Norman Schwarzkopf got more, but they were winners, defeating a brutal aggressor who threatened the world’s oil supplies. Marcia Clark lost a murder case against a brutal wife-beater. Her prosecutorial ineptitude — the jury selection, making Mark Fuhrman the star witness, the infamous glove, among other boners — contributed to one of the more inglorious episodes in American jurisprudence.

In less cynical times, Clark might have quietly returned to her job, sadder, wiser, taking time to reflect and exercise at least a little humility. But these are very cynical times, with amoral publishing executives throwing money at crooks and losers in ever growing wads, and public servants employing high-priced handlers to negotiate deals larger than the GNP of Third World nations.

The Clark auction was a frenzied carnival, by all accounts. Eight publishing houses pitched the former O.J. prosecutor in person. They all met her “floor price” of $1 million. Then the bidding got really serious, before Viking-Penguin emerged victorious with $4.2 million. A senior executive at Viking-Penguin crowed that the yet-to-be-written tome would be a “a seminal work…like ‘Eichmann in Jerusalem.’ ” Doubleday editor Arlene Friedman told the Los Angeles Times she was “crushed” that her bosses’ pockets weren’t deep enough.

There is nothing new in this, of course. Little, Brown got the ball rolling this time around with a $1.35 million advance for O.J.’s “I Want To Tell You,” which repaid the investment handsomely. Little, Brown wisely decided to pass on a sequel, because O.J. is decidedly O-U-T, as a souvenir collector discovered when he tried unsuccessfully to feature the acquitted football star at one of his shows. (Instead Little, Brown recently bestowed its largesse — $700,000 of it — on Nick Leeson, whose fraudulent futures dealings brought down Britain’s oldest investment bank, Barings Bros.)

Other houses still have post-O.J. dollar signs in their eyes. ReganBooks, an imprint of Rupert Murdoch’s HarperCollins, gave emotionally overwrought assistant prosecutor Christopher Darden $1.7 million for his memoirs, while Ballantine, a division of Random House, awarded Johnnie Cochran Jr. up to $3 million, according to Publishers Weekly, for the dubiously titled “My Journey to Justice.”

Exceptions deserve to be noted. Times Books,
another division of Random House, refused on principle to enter the swamp. “In the late 20th Century, there are no depths to which a publisher will not stoop to keep afloat,” said Steve Wasserman, editorial director of Times Books. “Very few publishers are coming out of this smelling like roses. The rush to profit from this tragedy has covered no one with glory.”

–Andrew Ross




That Old Box Magic


The big story out of last week’s COMDEX, the computer industry’s annual blowout in Vegas, was “Larry’s Magic Box.” Not to be confused with some third-rate interactive adventure for kids, this “magic” is the latest scheme from the brain of Oracle’s Larry Ellison — and from here, it looks like one bogus hex.

Ellison proposes a $500 device, on sale by the middle of next year, that will allow the masses to hook up to the Internet more easily and cheaply than via computer. The “Magic Box” will plug into either a monitor or a TV set; it will have a keyboard and a microprocessor, but no disk drive or hard drive.

Ellison and IBM’s Louis Gerstner both pitched the “Magic Box” as a chance for the computer biz to break the Microsoft/Intel quasi-monopoly. But nobody should mistake this for a David vs. Goliath story. In this battle, everyone’s a Goliath.

Like many other companies, Oracle bet big a couple of years ago on the phantom promise of interactive TV. Now it’s sitting on blueprints for “set-top boxes” and trying to figure out how to thrive in an Internet-driven universe. Just as other big media outfits are “repurposing” their software and print “content” onto the Net, Ellison wants to repurpose his hardware designs.

Industrial recycling aside, the “Magic Box” represents an even deeper delusion. Oracle, the second biggest software company in the world, has always made its bucks selling humongous database software to giant corporations, which is why Ellison’s sudden interest in the low-margin, high-volume consumer marketplace seems so fishy. The growing power of desktop computing has threatened Oracle’s core business; the “Magic Box” is an end run around today’s PC-dominated marketplace — an attempt to preserve the hegemony of Oracle-powered, centralized computing by hobbling the rest of the world’s desktops.

Why do you think the “Magic Box” lacks its own disk drive? It’s not just to keep costs down; it’s to make users dependent on the network. You can’t copy software if you don’t have a drive. Oracle doesn’t care if it loses money on the “magic boxes” themselves. Ellison and his allies expect to rake it in by metering your use of all the software your box has to borrow from their massive servers — whether it’s a simple e-mail program or a mega-multimedia download. Just think of it — each month, after you pay your electricity, telephone, heating and water bills, you will write a check to Magic Larry.

Oracle’s scheme is a revival of a 1970s vision of business computing — in which a company’s mainframe, tended by a cadre of specialists, doled out resources to cheap, dumb terminals that sat on everybody’s desks. The personal computer revolution earned that label because it transferred powerful tools from a tiny elite to the general public. Today’s “Magic Box” is yesterday’s dumb terminal. Ellison’s sleight-of-hand is a last-ditch move to contain the Internet explosion and make it conform to old models. It will fizzle, as it deserves to.

If somehow it does fly, here’s another question: as millions of Oracle customers start reading their e-mail on low-resolution TV sets, who will pay their optometrists’ bills?

–Scott Rosenberg

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