You know it's bad when the inevitable comparisons with Jimmy Carter show he was in better shape than Bill Clinton at this point in his presidency. In 1978, inflation was the worry. Domestic policy was a disaster, but Carter looked presidential in the Mideast. Democrats lost 11 House seats in the midterm elections, a historically respectable number. Although he was deemed ineffective, 80 percent of the voters called Carter "a man of high moral principles." In a 1979 memo, Democratic pollster Peter Hart wrote that "few strongly dislike Carter on a personal level. ... [He] does not inflame the passions of the electorate." Clinton, meantime, sets off smoke alarms every time he walks into a room.
But so what? Carter's big troubles came later, and there was no time -- or effort -- to regroup effectively. Clinton has the time. And maybe the White House now understands that, as the resurrected Tony Coelho puts it, "we can't have the incompetence issue come back. Clinton cannot come across as someone who's not up to it." Yet constant whining about a) negative press, b) cynical voters and c) uncooperative Republicans won't exactly blaze a high road out of the mess. If that's his best strategy, Clinton will be stuck in his current, and almost unthinkable, predicament: presiding over a strong economy with the lowest popularity rating of any modern-day president.
Luckily for Clinton, the public loves to forgive. During the campaign, voters liked it when the candidate and his wife admitted to real-life marital problems, saying they had grown stronger as a result. The same Gennifer Flowers defense can work on health care reform, if any emerges from Congress. Some humble talk about what the president has learned from the health fight and what adjustments he has made might be in order. Or an admission that he wanted too much change at once might also work. Unlike the White House, the voters never thought "incremental" was a dirty word. In fact, they thought it was a sensible approach to reform.
Credibility gap. One more point of common sense: Since a large part of Clinton's problem is promising more than he can deliver, don't hype the final product. Just give good reasons why the president is now signing something he pledged to veto at the outset. Call it a step in the right direction; call it insurance reform. Whatever the finesse, the irony is that Clinton's credibility gap will work to his advantage: Neither the public nor the Congress ever believed him in the first place.
Strategists say it is time for Clinton to get back "on message." Get back to the economy and the middle class, talk about crime and welfare reform, throw in campaign finance. "People need a road map, a plan that says this is how far we've come and here's where we are going for the next six to eight years," says pollster Hart. A vision is always a good idea. Too bad that the consultants who provided it during the campaign were invited inside the White House as tacticians. Once there, they were lousy at it -- and the big picture evaporated. An already cynical electorate was left without any guidance.
The scary result for Clinton and Democrats now is that the young voters are turning away. A national survey to be released this week shows a dramatic shift: In 1992, 18-to-29-year-old voters were among Clinton's most loyal supporters; now they're his worst group. They are the least anchored voters; they also have the highest expectations. "They want him to deliver," says Democratic pollster Celinda Lake. "Voters like him because they might meet him at McDonald's. They don't want him to write health care there." The youthful dismay is also bad news for Democrats, and they know it. Peter Hoagland, a Nebraska House Democrat treading water, calls Clinton "an enormous liability. I'm like a scuba diver carrying two to three times as much weight as normal." If Hoagland and at least 25 other Democrats are replaced by Republicans this fall, Clinton will have to reinvent governing.
In a way, that could be his salvation. A Congress effectively controlled by Republicans might force Clinton to re- evaluate his strategic choices: Either govern from the center or go back to his Democratic base. The partisan route is always the most expedient. Blaming Republicans for gridlock -- especially if they're even partly culpable -- is attractive; it keeps liberal enthusiasts happy, and Clinton gets a good excuse for failing to deliver. The option to become more bipartisan is more risky. If it fails, Clinton gets blamed; if it succeeds, Republicans share the credit. But if getting something done is what really matters to Clinton, it's the only option. Just consider Clinton's miserable failure when he tried to go in both directions on health reform. "If he does that again, he gets killed," says one White House insider. "After the election, he has to make up his mind." Everyone can hardly wait.
