If you asked me who I admired most in politics in 1992, it was easy. It was easy: Hilary Rodham Clinton. (Yes, I was a geek at 11.) Everything about her attitude to life and politics was admirable. Despite coming from privilege, she appeared to have a built-in belief that such privilege was tied to an obligation to others. Her (failed) attempt on resolving the health care crisis of America was noble in the most classic dimensions: she fought giant adversaries, they assailed her character and credentials, and she lost. Yet, in losing, it seemed to set the stage for a longer battle. It was a greater awakening in many millions of people (and particularly in young women who saw that even the role of “housewife” could be a grander position than known before.) But, something happened to the Clintons in 1994. Newt Gingrich’s Republican Revolution of that year browbeat them badly. They wouldn’t be the same, but we didn’t know it then.
Bill Clinton’s presidency, from then forth was a compromised one. Liberal democrats made excuses: he worked within the boundaries of the nation’s zeitgeist. He was setting groundwork for crucial liberal initiatives. And things were admittedly good on a grand scale: he presided over unprecedented growth. Crime was down. Gun control was improved via the Brady Bill. Supreme Court appointees were at least relatively strong. But, this came with gutting of social safety nets, ridiculous pandering to the far right (e.g. the Defense of Marriage Act), and ham-fisted foreign policy. Study this deeply and you see that the Clinton family was waiting for the next punch.
To avoid their early vulnerabilities, they focused in a remarkable way on campaign financing. (Note: I did not say reform.) They brought in money from all sorts of places (particularly China) and their policies would begin to follow the money. For a feminist gadfly super-babe and a rags-to-riches folk hero, this was a strange departure. But again, the left rallied and apologized. They even implicated the right for the Lewinsky affair (overlooking the fact that Clinton was undoubtedly reckless in this matter.)
But Hilary fans were still hopeful. We thought she’d walk out and come back to us, the same old wonderful woman as she was in 1992.
Which brings me to Kurt Warner. In 1999, a marginal NFL prospect out of Northern Iowa jumped into the NFL landscape. He wasn’t meant to be the starter, much less a significant NFL player. Trent Green was brought to the Saint Louis Rams as a significant signing. The team was on the rise, but certainly not considered a top-flight contender. Then Trent went down with a major injury. And Kurt Warner became a folk hero. He redefined the NFL passing game in the late 90s. The Greatest Show on Turf was a bell-weather of offenses, he broke numerous passing records, and won a Superbowl ring and two MVP titles. Then in 2001, the Patriots defeated him in his second appearance. In doing so, Kurt Warner was injured, rattled, and never the same.
(Yes, I equated Newt Gingrich with the New England Patriots.)
After that game, Kurt would continue to play, but with a timid passing style. He was always aware of the rush, turned the ball over frequently, and could not rekindle the magic of his first seasons no matter how hard he tried. Football experts were puzzled. This wizard of passing who could once pinpoint-drop a pass onto a receiver’s shoulder 40 yards away couldn’t find his men. Dr. Z thought he “felt the rush.” Somehow he was rattled like never before. Saint Louis tried and tried, max-protecting him more, giving him better balance with a rush attack. Nothing worked. Eventually they cut him and he moved to New York. It was a stop gap for Eli Manning. Then Arizona. But the fans (I’m definitely one) still hoped. Could he revive somewhere? How does that magic go away? How do you go from 40+ TDs, two MVPs, and a passing touch only rivaled by Brady and Manning in this era to a journeyman?
Eventually, you get stuck with simple conclusions: He got scared. He got old. He couldn’t fight anymore.
And that takes me back, finally to Hilary Clinton. Let me re-set the stage because history often gets away from us. She came in on the same election as W. Many people knew he’d need a strong legislative opposition. Many hard Democrats anticipated she’d be a key part of the antagonistic voice. But she never showed up to play. She was uninterested in contesting the farcical election. When Russ Feingold withered as a dissenting voice, she was silent on the Patriot Act. She signed on for the Iraq War every time. As opposition mounted from her own party, she straddled the fence. The whole time, her eyes were on the prize. She wouldn’t be blindsided ever again.
The problem, of course, with a compromised Hilary is that she becomes a completely flavorless politician. Other than the diversity she brings as a woman, she offered no real variation from any other career politician. The woman who once wrote “It Takes a Village” offered no clear picture on how she would re-invigorate the left’s core values. Even on the crucial issues of choice and women’s rights, she has not been a significant champion. Yes, she gets good rankings from NARAL and NOW, but what new legislation came for women? The CHIP legislation was perhaps her only serious fight on behalf of single-mothers. And there, she failed.
In a nutshell, that is the failing of Senator Clinton: in trying to avoid being hit from the right, she lost all the magic of her powers for the left. It was a Faustian bargain and she got nothing for it.
So, why this analogy? Simply, a president is equivalent to a quarterback. They can take many forms: game changers, risk takers, game managers, confident, poised, reliable. If I could get the Kurt Warner of 1999 on my team, I’d take that in a heartbeat. Same goes for HRC of 1992. But, today they are damaged goods and will at best be a manager of the game. If you get them in, they may do ok. But you’ll always feel like they should have been better, that they should do more.
