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 riangulation is
dead. Long live triangulation:
"The people of America have been overcharged,
and,
on their behalf, I'm here asking for a refund.
(APPLAUSE)
Some say my tax plan is too big.
(APPLAUSE)
Others say it's too small.
(APPLAUSE)
I respectfully disagree.
(LAUGHTER)
This plan is just right."
This is the heart of George W. Bush's message delivered February
27, 2001. Call it the "Goldilocks" strategy. He demonstrates that
he learned one valuable lesson from his immediate predecessor. He
artfully placed himself as an honest broker between the "extremes"
of the Congress — congressional Republicans who feel that more
tax cuts are needed than are currently on the table and Democrats
who believe that the current plan is too large. Bush has presented
himself here as the voice of objective reason. This is a decision
which will not please conservatives, but — politically —
it's a very strong position from which to rhetorically get his requested
tax cut.
The early part of this speech where he bifurcates the ideological
extremes — "on one side, those who want more government, regardless
of the cost; on the other, those who want less government, regardless
of the need. We should leave those arguments to the last century
and chart a different course" — could have been uttered by
Bill Clinton. In fact, in slightly different ways, it has been.
But, significantly, Bush is now able to cast himself as the man
defending the little guy. Bill Clinton's most successful maneuver
was portraying himself as the person reflecting the values of the
average American. Bush's performance shows exactly how important
the presidency itself is as a bully pulpit. It was great to hear
a president who placed himself on the side of the taxpaying public
rather than the tax absorbing government. What a change.
Politically, this was a speech given by a moderately conservative
Republican dressed up in the clothes of moderately activist Democrat.
"Education" was the priority issue. A call for an end to racial
profiling in America, because "it's wrong." A call for a —
Gag! — "Federal Compassion Capital Fund," that would
"provide a mentor to the more than 1 million children with a parent
in prison and to support other
| “This
was an excellent speech that has shrewdly redefined the
terms of the ideological debate for the next several years.” |
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local efforts to fight illiteracy, teen pregnancy, drug addiction
and other difficult problems." There are no true substantial cuts
in spending (though a slowdown in the rate of growth), but he notes,
" If we continue spending at 8 percent, we will spend the social
security surplus into deficit."
But Bush also borrowed from predecessors Clinton and Reagan
with his carefully cultivated human props. In his guest box sat
Stephen and Josephina Ramos (from Pennsylvania) who he quoted as
needing a tax cut which would help them pay off "our personal debt."
Bush followed up this introduction with the firm reminder, "The
surplus is not the government's money--it's the people's money."
Bush is boldly changing the terms of the debate. He is not saying
anything essentially different from what congressional Republicans
said in their budget battles with Clinton during the last few years.
The difference? Now, these words are coming from the occupant of
the White House and they have a commensurate credibility that was
lacking before coming from the legislative branch.
Apparently, Bush is targeting electoral guns on Pennsylvania rather
than Florida in 2004. In addition to introducing the Ramoses, Bush
also invited Philadelphia's Democrat Mayor John Street, as an example
of someone who has used faith-based initiatives with some success.
Bringing the mayor of Philadelphia into this address to the nation
should be considered "street smarts" of the highest variety.
Meanwhile, as Bush pushed forward his Goldilocks/just right strategy,
Tom Daschle and Richard Gephardt came across as the Two Unbearables.
Talk about understanding absolutely nothing from either the Clinton
years or the Bush Restoration. While Bush was friendly, inviting
and humble. Daschle and Gephardt came across as hostile, antagonistic
and arrogant. Daschle's description of the Reagan '80s seemed like
something from an alternate universe: "Deficits skyrocketed. The
national debt quadrupled. High interest rates choked American industries.
Unemployment soared. Working families struggled to meet their mortgages,
to pay for health care and save for college. It took us 18 years,
four acts of Congress, and a lot of hard work by the American people
to get out of that ditch."
Now, with the exception of the national debt quadrupling, the entire
passage is a perverse rendering of what happened in the '80s. Daschle
and Gephardt can talk all they want about listening to Reagan as
he proposed his economic plan and how Congress made a "mistake"
in adopting it. But, everyone would be interested in learning exactly
how the two born-again economic conservatives voted on Reagan's
spending cuts, to say nothing of the tax plan. In other words,
revenues increased during the "Greedy Eighties," but Democrats insisted
on spending anyway. Did Daschle and Gephardt do anything to stop
that spending? What do you think?
But, this is clearly Bush's show. It is probably that Tuesday night
was when the enormity of Gore's loss finally hit home for the Democrats.
The Republicans now have the bully pulpit — and they have someone
filling it who's a lot cannier than anyone might have previously
believed. He's delivered a speech that is a marker for the next
several months. "Well-done, good and faithful servants," Bush concluded.
Its a statement that was well-deserved by the speechwriter (presumably
Michael Gerson). This was an excellent speech that has shrewdly
redefined the terms of the ideological debate for the next several
years. Most refreshing of all is that there is little need to talk
about the previous occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.
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