President Goldilocks & the Unbearables
Triangulation is dead…

Mr. George is an editorial page writer for the New York Post
February 28, 2001 3:10 p.m.

 

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 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.