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Joe Millionaire for President
By FRANK RICH (NY Times)
Watching that noble doctor Bill Frist make his TV rounds —
I know he's a saint because he keeps telling us so — I began
to think I was going under general anesthesia. Here's a guy who
dispenses bromides and palliatives for every troublesome topic,
dishing out the spin so smoothly that you have to question your
own grasp on reality. A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go
down? Dr. Frist, as he insists that we call him, gives us the whole
bowl. "He's perfected that earnest, focused look that people
want when they go to the doctor," one of his former medical
colleagues told me this week. "It's as if you are the only
person in the world."
It's a sham, of course, because the client who always comes first
is Senator Frist's role model and patron in compassionate conservatism,
George W. Bush. And so the good doctor congratulates himself for
his good work on "H.I.V./AIDS in Africa," an admirable
record indeed were it not for the unmentioned footnote that he knocked
down his own Senate legislation earmarking $500 million for that
cause by 60 percent after the White House jerked his chain. He promises
to open up Medicare to private health plans without mentioning that
much of his own fortune (in a blind trust, of course) derived from
the for-profit Hospital Corporation of America (HCA), the medical
giant founded by his father and brother.
Dr. Frist further suggests that that little Trent Lott nastiness
is behind us now because Republicans are going to have "a dialogue
on race . . . in a more visible, a more open way." The dialogue,
we later learn, consists of (1) highly visible photo ops for Dr.
Frist with black conservatives; (2) a spirited defense of the judicial
nominee Charles Pickering's strenuous effort to reduce the sentence
of a convicted cross-burning hoodlum; and (3) the White House intervention
in the Supreme Court case challenging the University of Michigan's
affirmative action program. (Will the administration also weigh
in on the affirmative action programs for alumni children that have
given every Bush family applicant a leg up at Yale?)
The doctor is very good at this game, but not yet nearly so sophisticated
as the master. The White House has the bait-and-switch routine down
to a science. As The Associated Press reported on Wednesday, Ari
Fleischer just happened to announce that Mr. Bush would increase
aid to Africa just before declaring the president's intention to
intervene in the Michigan case — much as he had announced
at the height of the Lott embarrassment that the president was looking
forward to a trip to Africa. (That safari was quietly "rescheduled"
to no fixed date when Mr. Lott stepped down three days later.) The
Africa card is the Republicans' answer to the Democrats' race card,
and once it had been played, the stage was set for Mr. Bush's "statement
on affirmative action."
That statement contained so many sound bites lauding "diversity"
— the word turned up as many as three times in a single breath
— that the casual channel surfer might think the president
was joining the Rainbow Coalition. Or forget that he presides over
a party whose Congressional majority contains not a single black
member, even in the House, where "diversity" could easily
have been put into action, affirmative or otherwise, by recruiting
a minority candidate for one of the many safe Republican districts.
The Bush rhetorical technique — of implying one thing while
doing quite another — was first honed to perfection in the
speech handing down the great stem-cell "compromise" of
summer 2001. In his new and mostly worshipful memoir about Mr. Bush,
"The Right Man," his former speechwriter David Frum describes
the president's sleight-of-hand technique from the inside: "Because
Bush summarized all points of view so sympathetically, he was able
to win the support of his viewers for his own not at all middle-of-the-road
position." What the speech did, in other words, was persuade
inattentive listeners that the president was so sympathetic to scientific
research and the ill that he couldn't possibly be throwing roadblocks
in the way of potential cures for cancer, juvenile diabetes and
Alzheimer's (as in fact he was).
It was only a few weeks after the stem-cell speech that 9/11 was
upon us. Although that cataclysmic event is said to have changed
George W. Bush as much as it supposedly changed so much else, it
has not altered his brazen style. If anything, the midterm election
has emboldened the White House to use fictional rhetoric to paper
over harsher reality in almost every policy area it can.
Mr. Bush rolls out an economic plan that he says will help address
joblessness, now at an eight-year high and growing, when in fact
it's mainly a payday for those who collect dividend checks. Promising
to speed the cleanup of corporate corruption, he accepts the resignation
of Harvey Pitt, but two months-plus later Mr. Pitt is still on the
job, working his will as the S.E.C. does some of its most crucial
"reform" rule-making. Mr. Bush thumps as a hallmark of
his education vision the No Child Left Behind Act, but his tight
budget will leave states struggling to fulfill its alleged goals.
Even Marvin Olasky, the Bush sycophant who wrote the book that inspired
compassionate conservatism, said last month that while he awards
the president an "A" for "setting the message"
he gives him an "F" for his legislative follow-through.
But Mr. Olasky may not be the only one who is waking up to the
ruse. The drop in Mr. Bush's poll numbers this week reminds us that
anesthesia, no matter how well administered, eventually wears off.
Affirmative action, judicial nominations, Enron and the rest are
passionate issues for some, but war is a wake-up call for all. As
the president keeps stamping his foot about Saddam Hussein, there
is a dawning sensation that America is being held hostage by the
administration idée fixe that is Iraq. It's a sword of Damocles
hanging over our foreign policy, economy and national security alike.
The White House wants us to believe, as Dr. Frist reassured us last
weekend, that North Korea is "an entirely, entirely different
situation" from Iraq. Yes it is, not least because North Korea
does not produce oil. But the two situations are now inseparable.
Kim Jong Il may be crazy but he's not stupid. He bet the bank that
Mr. Bush, for all his promises not to respond to nuclear blackmail,
would do exactly that to avoid a distraction from Iraq. And so he
called the president's bluff and will soon get his ransom. Mr. Bush's
retreat all but invites other rogues to push us around, or worse,
in this interregnum of vulnerability that his verbal bluster and
tactical blundering has created.
Iraq's hammerlock on the economy is just as tight. We increasingly
realize that no matter what Mr. Bush's tax-cutting plan, or any
Democratic alternative, the economic issue du jour is not so much
class warfare as warfare, period. No one believes the economy is
going to expand as long as war clouds dampen the business environment.
If the war drags on for months, recession could well follow.
Nor does anyone know what vanquishing Saddam and then governing
Iraq will cost in either dollars or lives. Lawrence Lindsey, the
chief White House economic adviser, was fired after he put the bill
at $100 billion to $200 billion. But William Nordhaus, the Yale
economist, puts the Lindsey estimate at the low end, with the high
end being $1.6 trillion over a decade. Whatever the number, the
cost of the war isn't being factored at all into the budget proposal
the White House will send to Congress, according to USA Today. Yet
even with that huge sum unaccounted for, the tax cuts and deficits
are already so out of control that budgetary allotments for homeland
security are being cut back. As for the American troops to be thrown
at Saddam, remember those leaked Pentagon war plans from last summer
that capped the total at 250,000? This week ABC's John McWethy reported
that the number had escalated to 350,000 before the battle is even
joined.
Mr. Bush's rhetoric says we can have it all — lower taxes,
better schools, a war or two or three, civil defense — without
pain. But the numbers don't add up, and when the expanded war becomes
a reality, we'll see a bottom line that not even the smoothest politician's
bedside manner can obscure.
While we wait, an anxious nation whiles away the time with "Joe
Millionaire," a "reality" TV show in which a sweet-talking
con man charms a bevy of credulous women into believing he will
give them a fairy-tale ending. And why not? It's a perfect reflection
of the reality of this moment, right down to its predictable, all
too inevitable, denouement. (here)
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