Journalists by reputation are supposed to be a cynical, hard-bitten lot, so can someone please explain to THE SCRAPBOOK why more reporters don't chortle whenever Bill Clinton and his aides chant their favorite mantra, the politics of personal destruction?
Let's make it simple for our fellow journalists: Whenever White House types utter the magic words -- the politics of personal destruction -- they are being insincere. For one thing, White House allies have engaged in one long campaign of personal destruction over the past year, egged on by the example of Bill Clinton (remember Monica as stalker?) and the encouragement of Hillary.
Usually, when White House spokesmen use the phrase, they are merely trying to change the subject. The words don't mean anything, unless it's to suggest ever so subtly that the reporter should please go write another thumb-sucking news analysis about mean-spirited conservatives. The politics of personal destruction is a focus-group-tested bit of verbiage that Bill Clinton and his operatives wave through the air like catnip, because they have learned that earnest reporters and their earnest audience purr at the sound of the words.
Is THE SCRAPBOOK being cynical? You judge. Last week, former Tennessee governor Lamar Alexander uttered a mild-mannered complaint about the campaign slogans of his potential rivals for the White House in 2000, George W. "compassionate conservatism" Bush and Al "practical idealism" Gore. Said Alexander of the slogans: "Those are weasel words. . . . 'Compassionate conservative' is just like Al Gore talking about 'practical idealism.' They're designed to mean nothing." A Bush spokesman disputed the assessment and tried to explain the content of compassionate conservatism. But how about Gore spokesperson Chris Lehane? It's "unfortunate," said Lehane, that Alexander "has joined the Republican attack pack by engaging in this politics of personal destruction."
Oh, stuff it. Making fun of a rival's political slogan is not personal and it's not destructive; it's called campaigning. Which, by the way, is where the phrase was born in the first place.
AT Eli's Cheesecake factory in Chicago on March 12, 1992, just before the Illinois primary, candidate Bill Clinton was asked by reporters about a campaign ad by Paul Tsongas that gently questioned Clinton's honesty. Clinton responded that the American people "are tired of the politics of personal destruction." The historic utterance shows up in an article filed the next day by Bill Lambrecht of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, who presciently summarized the political usefulness of the coinage: "As he moves toward the Democratic nomination, Arkansas Gov. Bill Clinton is casting himself as a victim of those who worry that he will be tripped up one day by his past. . . . Rather than just denying accusations -- of marital infidelity, draft-dodging and, recently, his business dealings -- Clinton is working to convert them to political currency."
A week later, Tsongas had withdrawn from the race, and Clinton trotted out the phrase for the second time, to Adam Nagourney for a profile in USA Today: "Most of the people who talk to me, who know me, don't have any doubt about my fitness to be president, my character, my honesty, the propriety of my behavior or my wife. . . . One of the things I'm . . . betting on is that people will know they've been conned by the politics of distraction, the politics of division and the politics of personal destruction."
Well, that was certainly a good bet. In fact, six years later -- with 1,373-and-counting mentions of the politics of personal destruction in the Nexis database -- it's still a good bet.