The Week

■ Amid the ethical rubble of the Clinton administration, liberal moralists are holding up one small stone for scorn: the offense done to Clinton by George Stephanopoulos in his new book All Too Human (for Dick Morris’s review, turn to page 51). This is the same inverted morality that deemed Linda Tripp the archvillain of last year’s play, never mind Monica Lewinsky’s request that she commit a felony; the same morality that deemed Sidney Blumenthal’s smearing of Lewinsky less objectionable than Christopher Hitchens’s telling the truth about it. (Christopher Snitchens, Maureen Dowd charmingly dubbed him.) It is the morality of the cover-up: Stephanopoulos, too, has shirked his duty to keep silent about the character of the Clinton White House.

■ Some liberals, however, in the wake of Clinton’s escape from conviction, feel free to hammer him. Time’s Margaret Carlson speculates that the bombing of Iraq may have been caused by an adulterous testosterone rush. Thomas Friedman of the New York Times writes that Monica treated “the hot line as something you use for phone sex. And so did her boss.” Richard Cohen in the Washington Post invokes George Washington to judge the Juanita Broaddrick story: “With Clinton, if there’s a cherry tree down, we know who did it.” These pundits march alongside a parade of repentant ex-Clinton aides and flacks, stretching back to Dee Dee Myers. Such performances call for a deep explanation. How about this? Supporting Clinton is such a stressful experience—the exterior, so seductive; the reality, so loathsome; the denials, so taxing—that once the pressure is off, an explosion ensues. Look, there’s Stephanopoulos: Thar she blows!

Featured Tags

■ Amid the ethical rubble of the Clinton administration, liberal moralists are holding up one small stone for scorn: the offense done to Clinton by George Stephanopoulos in his new book All Too Human (for Dick Morris’s review, turn to page 51). This is the same inverted morality that deemed Linda Tripp the archvillain of last year’s play, never mind Monica Lewinsky’s request that she commit a felony; the same morality that deemed Sidney Blumenthal’s smearing of Lewinsky less objectionable than Christopher Hitchens’s telling the truth about it. (Christopher Snitchens, Maureen Dowd charmingly dubbed him.) It is the morality of the cover-up: Stephanopoulos, too, has shirked his duty to keep silent about the character of the Clinton White House.

■ Some liberals, however, in the wake of Clinton’s escape from conviction, feel free to hammer him. Time’s Margaret Carlson speculates that the bombing of Iraq may have been caused by an adulterous testosterone rush. Thomas Friedman of the New York Times writes that Monica treated “the hot line as something you use for phone sex. And so did her boss.” Richard Cohen in the Washington Post invokes George Washington to judge the Juanita Broaddrick story: “With Clinton, if there’s a cherry tree down, we know who did it.” These pundits march alongside a parade of repentant ex-Clinton aides and flacks, stretching back to Dee Dee Myers. Such performances call for a deep explanation. How about this? Supporting Clinton is such a stressful experience—the exterior, so seductive; the reality, so loathsome; the denials, so taxing—that once the pressure is off, an explosion ensues. Look, there’s Stephanopoulos: Thar she blows!