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Monday, Nov 9, 2009
On February 12, Lincoln's birthday, the Senate voted on President Clinton's fate. A small group of us sat in John Podesta's office to watch the proceedings on television. On Article I, perjury, the president was acquitted, 55-45. On Article II, obstruction of justice, the president was acquitted, 50-50. Thus the president was acquitted on all charges.
"Mr. Chief Justice," said Senator Lott, "I ask unanimous consent that the February 5, 1999, affidavit of Mr. Christopher Hitchens and the February 7, 1999, affidavit of Ms. Carol Blue, and the affidavit of Mr. R. Scott Armstrong be admitted into evidence in this proceeding, the full written transcripts of the depositions taken pursuant to S. Res. 30 be included in the public record of the trial at this point. This matter has been cleared on both sides of the aisle."
My colleagues, sitting around, jocularly pointed their fingers at me. "Without objection, it is so ordered," said Chief Justice Rehnquist. That was the last matter of business, and the court of impeachment of the president adjourned sine die. An honor guard of senators escorted the Chief Justice from the chamber.
Podesta called the president, who was in the Residence, and he emerged in the Rose Garden to make one final statement: "This can be and this must be a time of reconciliation and renewal for America." "In your heart, sir," asked a reporter, "can you forgive and forget?" "I believe," said Clinton, "any person who asks for forgiveness has to be prepared to give it."
At the next weekly political strategy meeting in the Yellow Oval, the president joked, "They've spent so much energy trashing me I'm surprised anyone is willing to be in a room with me." White House aide Michael Waldman observed that for the first time the cable channels had new scandals on. "They're just reloading, boys," Clinton warned. At the meeting's end, the president announced, "I've got to go to the dentist. Anyone want to go for me?"
As we walked out of the room, Clinton put his arm around me and made a remark that echoed what I had told him the day the scandal broke, in our Oval Office conversation. "You know," he said with a grin, "you shouldn't be hanging around crazy people." I laughed and said, "You know, that's good advice."
A month later, on March 18, I was a guest of CBS News at the Radio and Television Correspondents dinner at the Hilton Hotel. At the CBS reception held beforehand, I ambled up to Clinton's attorney Bob Bennett and Lindsey Graham to join their banter. A semblance of Washington etiquette, where partisan disagreements give way to bonhomie, was beginning to emerge. "I can't get rid of your friend," said Graham. "Hitchens is your friend. I can't get him off the phone." Hitchens wouldn't stop calling Graham, he said, and kept pestering him with new schemes on how to attack the president. "He really doesn't like the president. If you have any ideas on how I can get rid of him, let me know."
On my way to the CBS table, I ran into Jim Rogan. "I hope you don't think badly about me," he said. "You were a perfect witness -- totally professional, honest. If I were presenting a case, you're exactly the kind of witness I'd want."
A year later, on March 27, 2000, I appeared at a charity event for the Arena Stage's educational programs by joining a cast of political and media figures in a makeshift comedy called "Washington Confidential." I kicked in a chorus line with Senator Fred Thompson, Congressman Dick Gephardt, Jacob Stein (Lewinsky's attorney), Cokie Roberts, and Securities and Exchange Commission chairman Arthur Levitt. Backstage, I ran into Representative Mary Bono, Republican from California, who had been on the House Judiciary Committee. As we waited for our cue to go on, she said, "Impeachment was tough on everyone." "Yes," I agreed. She continued her patter. "Lindsey Graham sure had a good time making fun of your name," she said. "Oh," I replied. "That's right, he did." She chuckled. She was just trying to be friendly.
The amateur theatrics about to occur onstage were all in good fun. But the "fun" Mary referred to was a different kind of fun. It wasn't the first time that that sort of "fun" for the purpose of ridicule and denigration had surfaced -- Bob Barr's comment about "real Americans" during the impeachment battle had been another example. Mary Bono's cheerful mindlessness didn't make her account of it any less disturbing.
Excerpted from "The Clinton Wars," by Sidney Blumenthal, to be published on May 20 by Farrar, Straus and Giroux LLC. Copyright 2003 by Sidney Blumenthal. All rights reserved.
