Overkill Bill
Clinton's memoirs deliver a surfeit of information, some of it insightful, some self-serving
My Life
By Bill Clinton
Knopf, 957 pp., illustrated, $35
Early in his 957-page autobiography, Bill Clinton tells the story of his dying uncle Buddy, who admitted he was going through a tough time. "Yeah, it is," Buddy told Clinton, "but I signed on for the whole load, and most of it was pretty good."
Halfway through the book, I felt just about the way Buddy did. This is indeed Clinton's whole life, literally beginning at birth. In the growing-up years, there is not much new in his difficult family relationships, his time in Hope and Hot Springs, Ark., right through his schooling at Georgetown, Oxford, and Yale. But it is worth rehearing all of it in Clinton's voice.
Bill and Hillary's grand adventures in Arkansas politics are the best, most richly detailed parts of this book. After 12 years as governor, Clinton obviously knows his state from the inside out, and he laces the experience with tales of internecine politics and fascinating characters.
It is commonly assumed that Clinton's political persona was shaped most strongly by being thrown out of office after a single two-year term as governor. His description of that term, what went wrong, and what was his fault is about as self-reflective as he gets in "My Life." His comeback two years later, the first of many, tells the reader much about the essential political character of the man who would become the 42d president.
Along the way, we watch as he stitches together the patches of wisdom that become his personal and public philosophy. From a campaign that was too liberal: You cannot create change if you don't win. From his own loss: People can absorb only so much change at a time. Clinton moved steadily from the antiwar activist who managed George McGovern's campaign in Texas to the center.
As Clinton sees the world, he applied his political talents to remodel the national Democratic party to positions more centrist on trade, the deficit, welfare, crime, and the death penalty. Further, he believes that his presidential victories -- the first Democrat since FDR to win reelection -- institutionalized the changes. He does not address the fact that during his presidency the Democrats lost both houses of Congress, governorships, and seats in state legislatures all over the country.
Nevertheless, among the most interesting sections of this book are those where Clinton exercises his talent for political analysis. His state-by-state review of the 1992 battle for the nomination is as good as exists anywhere, as long as he sticks to politics. However, this is also the period where the scandals began -- womanizing, marijuana, and the draft -- and each of these is resolved in typical Clinton fashion: in Bill's favor.
This brings us to the second half of "My Life," the Clinton presidency. At this point, I thought again of Uncle Buddy's reference to the whole load. The book goes bad and the load gets heavy.
Up to the point in the narrative that he is sworn in, Clinton seems to have actually been engaged in crafting his book. It is interesting, introspective, well-organized, and informative.The last half of the book, however, seems to have been written from copies of the daily White House schedule with added commentary from Clinton. Chronologically, the reader plows through the weeks and months of Clinton's eight years, every foreign visitor or visit, every State of the Union speech, every crisis or Cabinet meeting, every vacation, every independent counsel appointed by Attorney General Janet Reno.
The ensuing 500 pages on the Clinton presidency is like getting a shot of Novocain between the eyes. It is not writing, it is annotated stenography. This part of the book could have been edited with a lawnmower. Of course Clinton bears only part of the blame for this; part also goes to his publisher, Alfred A. Knopf, and the host of helpers he thanks in his acknowledgments.
The great loss here is that so much more was possible. For example, there are a dozen mini-descriptions of Clinton's meetings with the Russian president Boris Yeltsin, including his last phone call when his "old partner" told him he was quitting, turning things over to Vladimir Putin. Nowhere, however, does Clinton take the opportunity to give any insight to his volatile, alcoholic Russian counterpart, to describe his relationship with Yeltsin or analyze what it meant to America's relations with Russia.
The same is true with so many other world leaders. One senses a real knowledge and often a friendship with Nelson Mandela, Helmut Kohl, Vaclav Havel, Yitzhak Rabin, King Hussein, and Tony Blair, but as recorded here they are just characters who move on and off the stage as events require.
Similarly, Clinton does not offer any overarching doctrine of foreign policy. He understands that he would be expected to make the case that his administration was vigilant on terror, so every instance of engagement with Osama bin Laden or Al Qaeda is recounted. However, because the reader is left to add up the effects of globalization, terrorism, nuclear proliferation, and other world events of his presidency, the Clinton doctrine in foreign policy comes off as trial and error, perpetual experimentation.
If you are tempted to buy this book to find out more about Monica, Gennifer, or the others, save your money. During the government shutdown of 1995, Clinton admits, he had an "inappropriate encounter" with Monica and "would do so again on other occasions" until she left the White House for the Pentagon. However, on all matters of scandal, womanizing, and Whitewater, Bill and Hillary have closed ranks. These are private matters, they say, aggressively pursued by their enemies with investigations that cost millions in taxpayer money, overblown in the press, ultimately resolved in their favor. Adios.
Many wondered if Bill Clinton would use this book to settle scores. In a way he does. He chides Baptists for turning themselves over to the right wing, says the Newt Gingrich GOP would have been comfortable with Senator Joseph McCarthy in its midst, and depicts FBI director Louis Freeh as a treacherous incompetent.
This is mild stuff compared to the ire Clinton lavishes on Ken Starr, who is depicted as a sex-obsessed independent counsel who vexed his life, soiled his presidency, and caused his impeachment. To say much more about Starr's investigation and what Clinton calls "Whitewater World" would spoil the book for the reader. As one who admits he has needed it so often, Clinton preaches heavily on the virtues of forgiveness. With Starr, if any forgiveness is offered, it is through gritted teeth with a clenched fist.
Ken Bode is the Distinguished Pulliam Professor of Journalism at DePauw University. 