No Blood, No Guts

AT Omaha Beach in 1994, during a lull in the ceremonies surrounding the 50th anniversary of D-Day, reporters watching Bill Clinton noticed a misty look come into his eyes. He then gave a heartfelt glance at the cruel sea where so many men in the invading army had died before reaching the shore, and knelt. He picked up some rocks and arranged them in the shape of a little cross, then bowed his head.

It was a bravura example of the gestural politics that this president has so completely mastered. But one wonders, what exactly was Clinton praying for (besides, one hopes, blessing on the dead) ? We can be almost certain that he prayed that the cameramen trailing him were capturing the inspired visual soundbite he had just created. And we can infer, from statements he has made since then, that he might also have been praying for the drama of a high- stakes world crisis similar to the one of a half-century ago that would allow him, a president condemned to govern in a tranquil and prosperous time, to acquire a legacy larger than “It’s the economy, stupid.”

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Peter Collier

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AT Omaha Beach in 1994, during a lull in the ceremonies surrounding the 50th anniversary of D-Day, reporters watching Bill Clinton noticed a misty look come into his eyes. He then gave a heartfelt glance at the cruel sea where so many men in the invading army had died before reaching the shore, and knelt. He picked up some rocks and arranged them in the shape of a little cross, then bowed his head.

It was a bravura example of the gestural politics that this president has so completely mastered. But one wonders, what exactly was Clinton praying for (besides, one hopes, blessing on the dead) ? We can be almost certain that he prayed that the cameramen trailing him were capturing the inspired visual soundbite he had just created. And we can infer, from statements he has made since then, that he might also have been praying for the drama of a high- stakes world crisis similar to the one of a half-century ago that would allow him, a president condemned to govern in a tranquil and prosperous time, to acquire a legacy larger than “It’s the economy, stupid.”