Yeah. Ok, Bill Clinton. I remember your televised remarks, twenty-seven years ago today, the ones you ended with, “I did not have sexual relations with that woman, Ms. Lewinsky.”
I guess the dress, and the cigar, and maybe even the young woman, might choose to differ.
Although, perhaps, it all depends on what the definition of “sexual relations” is.
We used to think we knew. Then–a few decades before Clinton–came Jack. And then Martin. And Bobby. And Teddy.
And then Bill.
Over the decades, we became inured to the idea that politicians screwed around. In all the obvious, and a few less obvious ways. We even learned that some of our national heroes had feet of clay. Eisenhower and Roosevelt, Kennedy and King, among them. But their sins were discreet and weren’t promoted by the press. And they won WWII and improved civil rights for all, for Pete’s sake. Much could be forgiven them, for that alone.
It wasn’t until the Clinton era that the idea that politicians screwed around with sex not because men are imperfect and susceptible, but for the sake of power and influence, prominently hit the national news, and the emerging Internet news, and when–because of the importance of maintaining the national narrative–the factual details ceased to matter all that much as the prurient details became national obsessions. The dress. The cigar. The stains. The questions. My God, even the deaths.
I’ll never forget driving from my home in Pennsylvania to Washington DC in July of 1993. I was on my way to attending a week-long advanced seminar sponsored by IBM on their “Token Ring” network. (If you don’t laugh at this, you should.)
I drove across a bridge, thinking, “I’m a bit early, and this is a pretty area; perhaps I’ll divert and drive into the park to view the scenery,” after I’d just seen a sign and an arrow pointing to “Fort Marcy Park.”
Because I was weary, I decided not to, and I drove on towards the hotel.
Once, not all that long thereafter, I was settled in my room, I switched on the television, and saw the Vince Foster news.
Yikes. I’ve never forgotten the feeling. And every time I see a meme that was spawned by it, I remember, with a bit of a chill down my spine.
These days, though, as we enter the second term of a Trump administration, I’ve an additive thought. One which has its genesis in the last few Democrat administrations (Clinton, Obama, Biden) and which considers the lasting implications of each of them.
Frankly, I think Joe’s already toast. If we’re not already at a point where his legacy is considered “spent” by anyone responsible, we soon will be.
That leaves Obama and Clinton as potentially hagiographic legacies.
At this point, Obama’s failed twice over. He dissed Biden (his VP and natural successor) in 2016, in order to support Hillary, who lost to Trump that year. Obama supported Biden in 2020 so that Joe could “beat” Trump in a Potemkin Presidency, the depths of which we are only just now plumbing.
And–after being outwitted by his former mentee or his mouthpieces–Obama supported Kamala to a loss in 2024.
I don’t like the Democrat legacy. But if you were to ask me at this point which Democrat president of the last 30 years has had the most significant one, I’d have to respond that it’s Bill Clinton (whose news coverage convinced us that his commitment to his marriage, his sexual constancy, his personal steadfastness or the rather well-documented accusations of sexual misconduct against him might not matter much when it came to performance of his political duties).
In that respect alone, I think Bill Clinton has outperformed Barack Obama in the most persuasive and forward-looking way.
A nominee’s personal life–whether through truth or lies–no longer matters all that much.
Just ask Brett Kavanaugh. Or–more recently–Pete Hegseth.
And–for better or worse–it’s because of Bill Clinton.
Change my mind.
