Gingrich Seems a Hypocrite, While Clinton Seems a Cynic

If liberals had talk radio, Speaker Newt Gingrich (R-Ga.) would be toast. And if Republicans had put up a more aggressive ticket, they might have defeated President Bill Clinton on the character issue.

But political realities being what they are, both men are likely to survive their ethics controversies. They’re hoping to get a fresh start next month, when Gingrich will probably be reelected speaker on Jan. 7 and Clinton will be inaugurated for a second term on Jan. 20.

But they present tarnished images to a disillusioned public. The ethics controversies have revealed something new and startling about each man. That Gingrich is a hypocrite. And Clinton is a cynic.

In his carefully crafted plea-bargain with the House Ethics Committee, the speaker acknowledged his behavior “did not reflect creditably on the House.” What about the speaker’s admission, “in my name and over my signature, inaccurate, incomplete and unreliable statements were given to the committee”? An unfortunate mistake but no dishonor, his defenders claim. Gingrich’s explanation: “I did not intend to mislead the committee.” In other words, a mere oversight. The speaker was too busy making revolution to pay attention to the ethics investigation.

But the fact is, for more than two years, Gingrich defiantly and contemptuously denied all charges of wrongdoing--until last Saturday, when he sheepishly changed his tune.

For years, Gingrich has minimized the connections between his political-action committee, GOPAC, and his so-called education and charitable activities. The ethics investigation found otherwise. It found that GOPAC was deeply involved in “developing,” “fund-raising” and “promotion” for Gingrich’s course.

Gingrich’s violation of House rules was not an inadvertent error. It was a systematic pattern of deception, carried out with hubris and defiance. This from a congressman who said in 1988, “The rules normally applied by the Ethics Committee to an investigation of a typical member are insufficient in an investigation of a speaker . . . . Clearly, this investigation has to meet a higher standard of public accountability.” The investigation Gingrich referred to was that of Democratic Speaker Jim Wright.

Gingrich’s hypocrisy is all the more shocking because he is not a typical politician. He cultivates the image of a true believer, the man who fights for a cause bigger than himself. It’s the cause of “Renewing American Civilization,” as he entitled his course. Gingrich was supposed to be nobler and purer than the typical politician out for himself.

Gingrich did lead his followers to the promised land. And, for that, he has earned not just gratitude, but support. That’s crucial now, in his time of trouble. Gingrich is an ideological politician. He sees the world as “us” vs. “them.” He pays a cost for that. “Them”--the Democrats--despise him, and voters see him as divisive and confrontational. But it also gives Gingrich a crucial advantage that’s about to pay off.

He has a base. “Your base,” Rep. Barney Frank (D-Mass.) once said, “is the people who are with you when you’re wrong.” Ideological politicians like Edward M. Kennedy, Jesse Jackson and Ronald Reagan all had a base. When they made big mistakes--Chappaquiddick, “Hymietown,” Iran-Contra--their base didn’t abandon them. Unlike, say, Gary Hart or George Bush, who found nobody there when they got in trouble.

Gingrich is wrong. He admits it. But he most likely will remain speaker because House Republicans are his base. They’re not abandoning him, despite his admission of fault and his negative public image. Indeed, Democrats are flabbergasted to see Gingrich’s supporters rushing to the airwaves to defend him. Democrats never did that for Wright. They weren’t his base.

Gingrich will survive, but he will never be the same public figure. Even though many criticized him for being outspoken and confrontational, few doubted his sincerity. Now that we know about his deliberate pattern of deception, few will accept his sincerity. It’s like finding out Reagan engineered the whole Iran-Contra conspiracy. Reagan was accused of many things, but being a hypocrite was not one of them.

The revelations about Clinton are no less damaging, and for the same reason: They contradict his public image. Doubts about Clinton’s honesty and integrity are nothing new. They’ve been around since the 1992 New Hampshire primary, when the charges of womanizing and draft-dodging first surfaced. This year, the “character issue” resurfaced as the GOP’s major theme: “Bob Dole. A Better Man. For a Better America.” The White House had a ready response: “We’ve already had that election.”

They were right. Americans elected Clinton despite widespread doubts about his trustworthiness. In both elections, the reasons to vote for Clinton--essentially, the economy--were more compelling than the reasons to vote against him. Even the Whitewater investigations have done no major damage.

But the fund-raising stories are different. They reveal a side of Clinton that voters have never seen before. Clinton’s public image has a lot of the naughty boy but none of the cynic. Whatever his faults, Clinton has always seemed genuinely concerned about people. In debates and news conferences, he looks you in the eye and makes a direct, emotional connection. There does not seem to be an ounce of irony in this man. He cares.

Suppose Clinton had made a truly cynical remark in one of the presidential debates, something like, “You know, the health-care plan actually worked. It gave the Republicans control of Congress, and that turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me.” Dole makes remarks like that all the time. He’s the king of irony.

But Clinton? Never. Though he did let a little cynicism slip out in 1995, when he told a Texas audience he had made a mistake raising taxes in 1993. Voters were shocked. Could this guy be a phony?

The president made his remarks to an audience of wealthy contributors. That was a clue. Now we know about Clinton’s obsession with money. Not for personal enrichment. He can say, along with Gingrich, “I did not seek personal gain.” He did it for political control. The fund-raising stories offer a picture of Clinton most voters never saw before--crass, manipulative, willing to peddle influence. A typical politician.

The stories cost Clinton his mandate in last month’s election. They cut his lead to single digits. He got less than 50% of the vote. Republicans kept control of Congress. The stories damaged the president in a way that Whitewater, Gennifer Flowers, Paula Jones, Travelgate and the FBI files never did.

In a political scandal, as in a trial, voters look for motivation. What they saw in Whitewater and Travelgate and the FBI files was partisanship--an effort by the president’s political enemies to “get” him. What they saw in the Jones and Flowers stories was gold-digging--an effort by two women of dubious reputation to strike it rich.

But in the fund-raising stories, they see Clinton acting like a political hack. Sequentially numbered money orders from phony contributors filled out in the same handwriting. Bizarre Buddhist sects.

What makes the stories even more damaging is the fact that the allegations involve foreign money. It raises a horrifying thought: Could Clinton be selling out the interests of the country to advance his own political interests? Could Patrick J. Buchanan and Ross Perot be right?

But even those stories are not as damaging as the ones about “Motel 1600,” the leasing of the Lincoln bedroom. Inviting big contributors to sleep in the White House is not unprecedented. It’s not illegal. It may not even be unethical. But it sure is tacky, at least the way the Democrats have done it--virtually advertising the dollar amount that gets you invited to spend the night at the White House.

The White House is historic property, owned by the taxpayers. The president is allowed to use it for legitimate public purposes. It’s an outrage for the president to raise money by leasing it to political high-rollers. Is this the guy who feels your pain? Or is he after your wallet?

Clinton’s enemies have always seen him as crass and cynical, full of false sincerity, his every move, his every smile, calculated for maximum political advantage. Occasionally, his friends have turned on him. Like journalist Joe Klein--oops, Anonymous--who was once a Clinton admirer. His book, “Primary Colors,” depicts a Clinton-like politician as false and manipulative, a trimmer.

If you really want to see the cynical side of Clinton, look at Dick Morris, the president’s double. Morris is the most cynical creature ever devised in U.S. politics, a man who believes in nothing but himself. He is probably the closest person to Clinton’s political soul. When Morris was cast out of the White House, it was the symbolic purging of Clinton’s evil twin. But when they destroyed the portrait of Dorian Gray, look what happened to Dorian Gray.

Sadly, Clinton and Gingrich are beginning to sound more and more alike. Both are using legalisms to defend themselves. Gingrich’s “I did not intend to mislead the committee” sounds like Clinton’s “I didn’t inhale.” In an interview last week, the president told The Times, “The reason that I have not been more critical of Charlie Trie or John Huang is that it is not clear to me . . . to what extent they knew exactly what they were doing and whether it was wrong.” Or as Gingrich told the House Ethics Committee, “I was overconfident, and in some ways, naive.”

Naive is not a word one readily associates with either Gingrich or Clinton. They are shrewd, calculating figures. They know how to survive. But one big thing has changed: The voters are getting wise to them.