Staring into a political breach, President Bush strove mightily Tuesday night to prove himself a trusting, mediating anti-Clinton.
For eight years, his predecessor commanded the House chamber, seeing his annual address to Congress as a grand, defining moment. Former President Bill Clinton filled his speeches with policy, dotted them with the theatrics of celebrity heroes in the gallery, laced them with partisan jibes and often made them seem longer than a Wrigley Field doubleheader.
On Tuesday, a clearly confident, measured and mercifully brief Bush turned down the volume, spoke in broad generalizations and beckoned a “real American” working-class couple, not a Sammy Sosa or Mary Tyler Moore, as he faced an unprecedented challenge. Never before had a president who lost the popular vote stood before Congress and delivered a speech that effectively served as a State of the Union address.
The response proved predictable. Republicans were downright ebullient, as if an 8-year-old boil had been lanced, collectively cheering nearly 90 times. The Democrats were chagrined but polite, mostly sitting on their hands and only occasionally clapping with the reserve of those in the Royal Box at the Wimbledon tennis championships.
Bush, like all presidents, ticked off a grocery list of concerns, including Social Security, missile defense and conservation. But his prime policy craving and challenge surfaced early. It was simple yet daunting: How could he begin to convince the nation and its elected representatives packed before him that there is nothing more important than cutting their taxes?
For sure, the economic climate and Americans’ response to it are tricky, partly explaining why former Vice President Al Gore didn’t ride the Clinton-era prosperity to the rostrum himself. There are doubts about surplus projections and political friction over how the nation should spend those extra dollars.
The Democrats have, in one sense, already caved on the notion of tax cuts. But, even before Bush had spoken a word, they were dispensing press releases with their response to the first prime-time policy speech of his presidency. They want a much slimmer cut than Bush, and they prefer more spending and a tighter focus on paying down the national debt.
In an address that strove genially to capture the safe center, Bush was resolute, verging on the combative, on taxes. The economy is “faltering,” he said, and the choice is now between “unrestrained government spending” and letting “the American people spend their own money,” namely through tax cuts.
Every applause line on taxes saw the GOP on its feet, joined by only six or seven conservative Democrats. How to split the underlying differences is Bush’s test.
On Tuesday night, his tone and rhetoric sought to signal that his plan is moderate, appropriate and necessary, even if some Democrats openly scoffed. Bush didn’t play the room like the adroit Clinton but neither did he engage in what former chief Clinton speechwriter Michael Waldman earlier conceded were the premeditated Clinton attempts to rankle the opposition and make them look churlish.
Bush pursued the tack of a middleman or mediator more than that of a diehard advocate. He did so knowing that his success depends on reining in the true believers on both sides of the aisle. Those include his party’s corporate-leaning hard-core who desire even deeper cuts than Bush seeks on taxes, especially in cutting capital gains rates.
Looking out across his audience, there were reminders that the dynamics of Congress have changed in significant ways that verge on the daunting for any chief executive. Increasingly, party discipline erodes and freelancing grows.
It’s not just the high-profile renegades, such as campaign finance proponents Sen. John McCain (R-Ariz.) or Sen. Russell Feingold (D-Wis.), who heard a single, muted mention of their favorite issue. There are others in both houses who are lesser known but formidable allies or foes, such as Rep. Tim Roemer of Indiana and other conservative, so-called “blue dog” Democrats.
Together, they represent unpredictable cadres whose loyalty and therefore votes simply can’t be assumed by their own leaders. For example, two Republican senators already have bucked the White House, calling for a smaller tax cut than Bush wants. In a body split 50-50, those two, Lincoln Chafee of Rhode Island and Jim Jeffords of Vermont, become instant players. They could be seen cheering Bush repeatedly through the night.
In their midst was Senate Budget Committee Chairman Pete Domenici (R-N.M.). He must be dealt with, and when it comes to a prescription drug benefit for the elderly, he did clap for Bush’s proposal. But the reality is that he doesn’t like Bush’s funding plan and, on that issue, he could make or break the president.
Few positions on anything were likely to change Tuesday since State of the Union addresses rarely have significant impact. Indeed, during the Clinton years there was the frequent disjoint of critical and popular responses.
While the media and even members of Congress tended to be unmoved, Clinton’s approval ratings often went up sharply. And, alas, the longer his speeches, Waldman reminded, the more the public seemed to like the address.
As Bush reached the finale of his first prime-time policy address, broaching the financial stability of Medicare and urging civility, he remained an obvious work in progress, thrust to power amid controversy and both dogged and helped by the shadow of Clinton. And there, down to his right, was the improbable Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton of New York, sitting in Congress’ version of a seat in back of first base after eight years in what amounts to the first lady’s sky box.
Bush’s initial approval ratings are low and his image blurry, in part due to the elephant in the room that he did not mention Tuesday, namely the bitter election in which he squeaked by with his slim edge in the Electoral College. At one point, he fleetingly mentioned a need for “balanced campaign reform,” but he did not linger there.
Months after the dramatic, bitter finale, front and center sat Supreme Court Justice Stephen Breyer, surprisingly the lone member in attendance from the court, which brought the Florida recount to a halt by a 5-4 vote. Breyer was in the dissenting minority but was still booed by some Democrats as the arrival of “the Supreme Court” was announced.
He sat next to the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, surrounded by partisans of both sides as all viewed an important moment in the process of moving the nation beyond Clinton. Like the first moments after turning on a television, the picture of Bush is not quite in focus. But as he adds detail, he will be easier to grasp and more open to attack.
But even the more overtly smug of the Democrats, including one who hissed at Bush’s one reference during the speech to controversial Atty. Gen. John Ashcroft, might be reminded of the Texan’s history of being underestimated. That history might be why Gore was not delivering Tuesday’s address.
