Bertie Wooster's Party Tricks
Anyone whom Jesse Helms
brands as his enemy is instantly sympathetic. Helms says he will use his powers
as chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee to derail William Weld's
nomination to become ambassador to Mexico because Weld supports the
decriminalization of marijuana for medical use. But unlike other Clinton
nominees who have given up when Helms opposed them, Weld has girded for battle.
Earlier this week, he resigned his position as governor of Massachusetts to
combat Helms' "ideological extortion" full time.
Weld
wants his fight with Helms to be a "battle over the soul of the Republican
Party." And where does Bill Weld think the soul of the Republican party should
lie? He declares himself a philosophical libertarian who discovered Hayek in
law school. But his alleged libertarianism is inconsistent, and may be no more
than a convenient, fancy formulation for the combination of policies--fiscally
conservative, socially liberal--needed to get elected as a Republican in a
Democratic state. Weld certainly did not advertise himself as a libertarian
when he worked for the Reagan administration, running the Criminal Division of
the Justice Department.
Weld's popular appeal is based less on the perception that
he's a libertarian than the perception he's that even rarer animal, a moderate
Republican. With the crusty, rural, reactionary Helms as a foil, Weld seems a
moderate, cosmopolitan thinking man, above petty politics. He is even willing
to accept a job in a Democratic administration. But Weld's moderation, his
"independent spirit," like his libertarianism, may actually reflect two less
admirable qualities: first, a Clintonesque political slipperiness; and, second,
a lack of seriousness. He's a flake.
He's a
flake because he's an aristocrat. And he brilliantly fuses these two
politically disadvantageous conditions into a political plus. Weld comes from
wealthy, pure WASP stock and married a great granddaughter of Theodore
Roosevelt. Far from playing this down, he revels in Brahmin shtick, incessantly
gabbing with reporters about his prep-school days, publicly proclaiming the
sacrosanctity of his twice-weekly squash games, and cracking jokes like "The
Welds arrived in 1630 with only the shirts on their backs and 2,000 pounds of
gold."
More successfully than Ross Perot or Steve
Forbes, Weld's demeanor plays on the ancient myth of the Cincinnatus--the
notion that a man of wealth makes the best statesman, because he will never be
tempted to act in his own self-interest and will work solely for the common
good. Unlike Forbes and Perot, Weld never seems to be straining to garner the
public's approval. An obsequious 1992 New York Times Magazine profile
put it this way: "In the Governor's office, Weld has restored a tradition of
aristocratic Yankee lordship, he has made governing look easy and WASP
ascendancy seem an expression of natural law, if not of divine right." He can
drink a martini while balancing a budget.
But all
is not aristocratic ease and devil-may-care frankness. Weld came to national
prominence in 1988, when he resigned as head of the Justice Department's
Criminal Division, allegedly in protest over Attorney General Edwin Meese's
interference in the investigation of Meese's friend E. Robert Wallach, accused
of using his company Wedtech to abuse government contracts. Weld later conceded
that he had planned months before to leave the Justice Department. He didn't
mention this when he struck his headline-grabbing stance.
And then there's his claim that as governor he restored the
health of the Massachusetts economy. Remember back to Michael Dukakis' 1988
presidential run. Mid-campaign, the state's economy, which Dukakis was
referring to as "the Massachusetts miracle," sank, creating a huge government
budget deficit and threatening the state's financial solvency. To stave off
collapse during his last two years in office, Dukakis stewarded over $1 billion
in tax increases through the state legislature.
When Weld
campaigned for governor in 1990 against Boston University President John
Silber, he vociferously supported a ballot measure that would have reversed the
Dukakis tax increases. Silber argued (correctly) that repealing the tax
increases would ruin the state's bond rating, and result in irresponsibly large
social-spending cuts. Silber was too persuasive for his own good. As it became
clear that the disastrous tax cut would not pass, the liberals of Cambridge,
Newton, and Boston--disliking Silber for his cranky hard-line views on social
issues--felt it was safe to vote for Weld. The Republican won by less than 3
percent.
Weld's combination of positions on issues plays
to the great weakness in today's liberalism: its obsession with social issues
and relative indifference to economics. Because Weld is pro-gay, pro-choice,
and pro-affirmative action, liberals overlooked his strident economic
conservatism. As promised in the campaign, he slashed social spending and
welfare rolls. However, taxes remain at nearly the same levels as when he
entered office, and government spending has increased more than 50 percent
during his six-year tenure. If he had got his way about repealing the Dukakis
tax increases, he and his state would be up shit creek. He has the unpopular
stands taken by Michael Dukakis and John Silber to thank for creating the
conditions for solid growth that have buoyed his popularity.
The pose
of the post-partisan suits Weld because he can change his positions on a dime.
Three years into his term he dropped his strident opposition to gun control
when the position began hurting his poll numbers. Though he describes himself
as being "to the right of Attila the Hun on crime," he authorized the Willie
Hortenesque early parole of more than 700 sex offenders in 1992. Despite twice
campaigning actively against Bill Clinton, he has begged for a post in his
administration.
Weld's capriciousness is key to his success. Even when it
would seem blatantly self-serving, his unpredictability jibes with the public's
expectation that his personal wealth will allow him to do whatever he thinks is
right. His whimsy can be downright charming. During a signing ceremony for a
bill, he dove headfirst fully clothed into the Charles River. And he once sent
pictures to reporters of himself with a giant boar he claims to have hunted
down--though it turned out to be in captivity.
His decision to resign and
run for the ambassadorship few expect him to win should be treated like these
other nutty episodes. Even reporters who describe the move as quixotic express
admiration for his audacity. He has already demonstrated his acumen at milking
the confrontation with Helms for its maximum theatrical and political value.
And since he clearly has further political ambitions--he has talked about
becoming attorney general or secretary of state, and no doubt thinks of even
higher office--the spotlight will serve him well. He can indulge in the
self-serving grandstanding and self-effacing silliness that only William Weld
could possibly pull off.
