THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, July 10, 1994 TAG: 9407080006
SECTION: COMMENTARY PAGE: J7 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: PERRY MORGAN
LENGTH: Medium: 66 lines
President Clinton must have exhaled deeply after hearing the first report of Whitewater prosecutor Robert Fiske. Yes, said the sleuth, White House deputy counsel Vincent Foster really did die by his own hand. And, no, nothing illegal turned up in specific White House actions involving an Arkansas savings and loan which is intertwined with the Clintons' business and political careers.
The president, however, has a huge headache: His White House staff shake-up, though past due, doesn't promise much relief. And neither do Fiske's initial findings. Fiske has yet to report on the main body of Whitewater questions; meantime, House and Senate panels are preparing to launch their own probes - and headlines.
Add to these periodic eruptions from the sexual harassment suit against Clinton and outrage over the fact that he's letting lobbyists contribute to his legal defense fund, and the prospect grows bleaker. It takes a very long looking glass to see a time when the Clinton presidency is not under siege.
The White House has responded by assigning Thomas McLarty, just removed as chief of staff, to buff up the Clinton image. This is a mission impossible for ``Mack The Nice.'' For the same reason, McLarty's successor, Leon Panetta, will have a hard time imposing order and smart execution among Clinton underlings. The reason is that there is no order at the center of things.
Want to know about the president's underwear? Ask him. Ask yourself how many stand-fast positions help identify Clinton. Sure, Ronald Reagan once said that his feet were set in concrete against a tax increase, only to add later: ``I can hear the sound of concrete cracking.'' But unlike Clinton, Reagan had a Teflon presidency - surrounded by a public urge to forgive and forget startling errors in judgment, including military miscues that might have broken Clinton.
Style counts. Enormously. Looks and gestures inflated the Kennedy aura just as they deflate the bright promise of Clinton's State of the Union addresses. His campaign guru, James Carville, told The Washington Post: ``You know, he eats too much, he loves sports too much, he talks too much. He is not remote in the way presidents have been, so you are more free to love him or hate him the way you would anyone. This guy gins up more feelings and pulls them from greater extremes than any politician I know.''
Haters, to the utmost, have exercised their options, their personal dislike augmented by desire to resolve against him all the considerable questions about his past. Since those questions are open, defenders are handicapped.
An impersonal question intrudes. Why isn't regard for Clinton boosted by an improving economy, and his successes in cutting annual budget deficits and reducing taxes on the working poor? Because perforce they are half measures of a government strapped by debt and its competence in most things doubted?
That's surely part of it: Imagine health-care reform approved by good margins tomorrow; there would be a sign saying: ``Hold your applause!'' For his party's clients, Clinton has little bounty to offer.
But the straits of the Clinton presidency also are roiled by reaction to his past, his personality, his generation and a vaporous foreign policy. Staff changes will help at the margins. But even a series of favorable findings by the Whitewater prosecutor would provide no lift for an administration coming upon midterm elections mired in trouble. Bill Clinton has not converted his plurality into a majority; for all his love of talk, he has not given his administration a voice. And it is getting late. MEMO: Mr. Morgan is a former publisher of The Virginian-Pilot and The
Ledger-Star. by CNB