George W.'s An Empty Suit
With the McCain panic partly defused, it's a good time for the following question: Should George W. Bush become president, where would he rate among U.S. presidents in terms of previous government experience? Thirty-eighth out of 42. The four chief executives who possessed less governing experience prior to running for president were Dwight Eisenhower, Woodrow Wilson, Ulysses Grant and Zachary Taylor. Three of the four were war heroes, a mantle that Guardsman George cannot claim. Wilson was president of Princeton before being elected New Jersey governor in 1910. Two years later, he won the Democratic nomination on the 46th ballot at the convention in Baltimore. Wilson then defeated Republican William Taft and Progressive Teddy Roosevelt for the presidency and, after promising not to do so, led the United States into World War I. Bush has served a measly one-and-a-half terms as a constitutionally weak governor in a state where the legislature meets only every other year. Bush suffers not only a stature gap, but an experience gap.
And it shows, for who is George W. Bush? The compassionate conservative? Or the friend of social conservatives at racist Bob Jones University? A scion of the GOP elite who, with little effort, snagged $70 million from the party's moneybags? Or a drawlin' Washington outsider? A moderate Republican who triangulates from the House GOPers? Or the white knight of the Republican establishment, which has showered him with endorsements? He's not been in public life long enough for anyone to know for sure.
In South Carolina, Bush put out a dizzying merry-go-round of images. To staunch the flow of independents into John McCain's camp, he maintained, absurdly, he was a "reformer." But each day, he was spending $3 million from his fatcat coffers. He also proclaimed he was the fellow who could best bring together Republicans and Democrats in Washington. But, at the same time, he lurched hard-right to portray himself as the only real Republican in the race. Before New Hampshire, the compassionate-conservative routine had seemed a stroke of genius: Look! A Republican who isn't a threatening or grouchy right-winger. What smart marketing. But those Yankees didn't buy it. Now Bush is willing to be whatever he needs to be: a hack for all. Remember the previous be-nice-to-colored-folk Bush who went out of his way to have his photo snapped with cute black and brown children? In the Palmetto State, you didn't see him rushing to grade schools in minority neighborhoods. Who can guess what he'll be next week?
Bush the Lesser, though, does absorb his programming well. When he hits a message, he often repeats it. As in, "I know how to lead, how to lead." Is this a double-clutch, as he mentally lunges toward a familiar point, a safe place? There is a trace of Quayle-ish insecurity in his verbal tic?maybe he figures if he claims over and over that he can lead, he'll convince both voters and himself?and there's something pathetic in how vociferously he cites his leadership abilities. A week before the South Carolina contest?Bush explained his visit to Bob Jones University by saying he had wanted to talk to people there about his brand of conservatism: "That's why I went. That's what a leader does. A leader doesn't shirk." In keeping with that logic, Bush soon should be dropping in on the racist Council of Conservative Citizens and the Log Cabin (that is, gay) Republicans, for a leader in his book takes his message to whatever audience will have him, even if that causes him to come across as cravenly. A leader, says George W., is willing to make that sacrifice. For the good of the public, naturally.
A leader, apparently, also defies reason. Bush is a cheerleader for capital punishment, and has presided over far more executions (119 since he took office) than any other governor in the nation. Recently, though, death penalty fans have been put on the defensive. Illinois Gov. George Ryan, a Republican who supports Bush, halted executions in his state, citing the fact that 13 people on his state's death row have been exonerated since 1977 (some due to advances in DNA-related technology). That's one more than the number killed by the state. Since 1976, 85 people nationwide have been released from death row because of new evidence, while 610 have been executed. So for every seven persons killed, one innocent person has been sentenced to death?hardly a good margin of error for the most irreversible of actions.
Noting Ryan's bold step, CNN's Larry King asked Bush during the South Carolina debate if Bush should follow his fellow governor's example. No, said Bush: "I'm actually convinced that everybody who was convicted [and executed] was guilty of the crime. " King pressed Bush: "And you know they all did it?" Bush answered, "Yes, absolutely." Now, all us grownups realize that (1) Bush cannot say anything else and (2) there is no way for him to know "absolutely" that all 119 people who were offed by his government were guilty. What are the chances the Texas justice system got every case "absolutely" right, if Illinois and other states have not?
Death penalty opponents have been emboldened lately. Sen. Russell Feingold, a Wisconsin Democrat, urged President Clinton to halt federal executions. Vermont Sen. Patrick Leahy, also a Democrat, introduced legislation that would guarantee all death row inmates access to DNA testing when it could result in new evidence of their innocence, and grant them the opportunity to present the results in court. Clinton, at his press conference last week, referred positively to the Leahy bill, even as he dismissed Feingold's call. And there's another front some antideath-penalty activists have been considering: Is it possible, just possible, to prove that one of the people executed in Texas by Bush was innocent? Imagine Bush's reaction should that occur. Bush the Inexperienced has yet to demonstrate how a leader admits a life-and-death mistake.