Wyoming Sen. Alan Simpson, a Republican who draws upon a wealth of personal experience when it comes to bad press, reflects upon the current predicament of Hillary Rodham Clinton and Whitewater. "When they're after your butt," he advises, "answer the phone."
Too bad the first lady is not his client. Simpson makes sense, particularly now that Whitewater -- alternately tackled brilliantly or with barely contained anger by her husband -- has every day become more and more a story centered on the first lady. Yet aside from tossing a few predictable crumbs in interviews mostly complaining about partisan politics -- Mrs. Clinton has been determinedly silent on the facts. Some inside the White House, employing delusional reasoning, figure it's better for her to stay that way. If the story is fading, they ask, why reignite it? "The risk is that now that we are getting this behind us, any new openness would bring it all up again," says one White House adviser. "You can overdo it." There is another unstated argument for silence, and it may be the real heart of the matter: Unless -- or until -- Mrs. Clinton has good answers, why seek a forum for tough questions?
Because she needs it. First, the obvious reason: It is impossible to fix the Clintons' problems when the surrogate spokesmen do not have a fix on it themselves. And so the daily Whitewater news cycle has become the contorted political version of recovered memory. A story appears, the White House responds. The story reappears with more information; the White House amends its first response. The whole process recalls a less-than-candid candidate Bill Clinton, who took weeks to confirm the truth about his own draft record. For instance, the Clintons first described themselves as "passive investors" in the Ozarks land development. Yet documents released last week showed that monthly payments from investors were sent directly to Mrs. Clinton at the Rose Law Firm. (Amended explanation: Former buddy James McDougal had a stroke, so she was forced to take over.) And what about those profitable cattle futures deals, which Mrs. Clinton first claimed were made after studying the Wall Street Journal -- and were stopped during her pregnancy because of stress? Now, it seems that the account was run by an old friend, James Blair, a knowledgeable investor and attorney for Tyson Foods Inc., which had plenty of business before the state. (Amended explanation: Mrs. Clinton still made the final decisions.)
It smells fishy, which leads to the next problem: her image. Before Whitewater, Hillary Clinton had all but mastered the "Who was elected?" issue. Walking a fine line away from the political dangers of a co-presidency, she worked to become a bona fide public policy expert with a serious legislative agenda; she got extra brownie points for defending her husband in an assortment of challenging times. Then came the news of the wonders of her $1,000-into $100,000 windfall on cattle futures. Suddenly, the "politics of meaning" devotee seemed just as interested in the politics of money. After decrying the excesses of the '70s and '80s, the first lady looks suspiciously like any other greedy yuppie. (Another irony: There are questions about whether she benefited from some fancy kinds of manipulation of trading accounts later cracked down on by the Reaganites.) Small wonder that Democratic pollsters say her investments are raising eyebrows -- and anger -- among voters.
Private deposition? Hillary Clinton would surely be the best defender of her own accountability and humanity. At first glance, a congressional hearing might seem the likely place for her to mount her defense. Forget it. Hearings are not a done deal. And she would never appear anyway, because the Republicans would not be dumb enough to invite her. Handling testimony from the first lady, says Republican Sen. John McCain of Arizona, would be like "loading nitroglycerin onto a truck." While some White House aides profess to want her to volunteer to testify ("I would put her out there in a minute," says one top Clinton adviser), they don't mean it. In fact, the last thing they seek is to escalate any Whitewater hearings. And so both sides support keeping Mrs. Clinton off the Hill. Even Republican Sen. Alfonse D'Amato, not known for his gracious good manners, predicts that "there will be depositions taken in private. We don't want to deprecate the president and his family." Translation: She'd massacre us.
In any case, she can't wait for hearings. Positioning Hillary Clinton is an immediate White House worry; why not take advantage of the Whitewater lull to tell the first lady's story? Some insiders argue she should focus on health care, brushing off pestering reporters trying to change the subject. That will work on the evening news but not in the long run. What will help are explanations -- offered firsthand, in sessions with those covering the story. If the Geraldine Ferraro come-clean model is demeaning -- and if the first lady is too angry to do it well -- don't do it. But don't try to get away with a single, prime-time appearance either. "There's so much crap out there, and only she knows the answers," says Senator Simpson. Now, if only she would hear the questions.
