by Naftali Bendavid
Politicians’ mistakes can sometimes blossom into devastating, headline-grabbing stories. Other times they die a quite death. It’s often unclear why, but one clue is how a blunder plays into a candidate’s image.
In 2000, for example, Al Gore was tarred with a reputation for shading the truth, so the smallest exaggeration or dubious comment—and some not so dubious—was trumpeted as reaffirming the notion that he could not be trusted. The Bush campaign took the lead, issuing a series of statements headlined “The Gore Detector,” and the press played a perhaps less-than-admirable role. Bush, on the other hand, could make misstatements with near-impunity; at one point, asked to name a favorite childhood book, Bush cited “The Very Hungry Caterpillar,” which had not been published when he was young. The press treated this as inconsequential, no doubt correctly; had Gore made the same mistake, he would likely have been flayed alive.
Bush, for his part, gained a reputation early in the 2000 campaign for not being bright, so any verbal stumble in the course of the long campaign was treated as evidence of his low mental candlepower. In contrast, Gore at one rally spent several seconds grasping for a relatively simple word; but no one suspected Gore of lacking intelligence, so the episode went largely unremarked.The same dynamic is at play in the current campaign. Going forward, look for the press and political opposition to focus on any stumble by John McCain that seems to suggest he is old, unwell or volatile; any mistake by Barack Obama that can be attributed to inexperience or naivete; and any slip-up by Hillary Clinton that can be seen (or spun) as reflecting the ruthlessness or lack of moral center that some attribute to the Clintons.
The recent flap over Mark Penn fits nicely into this context. When it emerged that Clinton’s chief strategist was meeting with senior Colombian officials pushing a free-trade deal that Clinton opposed, it fit into the narrative, fair or unfair, that the Clintons have an episodic relationship with the truth. (That image had recently been strengthened by Clinton’s recent story about coming under sniper fire in the Balkans.)
The danger for Clinton is that, as her position in the primaries becomes increasingly urgent, she is forced into positions that Obama supporters portray as changing the rules in the middle of the game. Clinton initially seemed to dismiss the importance of the Florida and Michigan votes, but now argues for including them. Her supporters have downplayed the importance of caucuses as compared to primaries, and insisted that wins in a few big states should count for more than wins in many small states. Clinton herself has noted that pledged delegates can change their votes—a statement that is technically true, but seen by Obama supporters as a further attempt to game the system.
It’s hard to blame Clinton pulling out all the stops, or reaching for any interpretation that strengthens her position. Most candidates in a similar situation would do the same. But in her case, it carries the peril of reinforcing the “anything to win” label.
And Clinton may be paying a price. The most recent polls show Obama increasing his national lead in the national polls. Ordinarily that would not matter, since elections are held state-by-state, but national popularity is a factor that could be weighed by the super-delegates. In addition, Obama appears to be closing the gap in Pennsylvania, where Clinton once held a big lead. Of course, the polls seem to change every few days, and with two weeks until the April 22 Pennsylvania primary, any number of additional swings could be in the offing.
But especially with the events of recent days, Clinton has little margin for error.