But in the Bush Restoration, which officially begins at noon on Saturday, it will be wise to watch what they do, not what they say–even in private to friends. Was Bush upset or relieved that his buddy said no? We may never know. But no sooner had Racicot spurned the tentative offer (for family financial reasons, he said) than Bush’s advisers were on the phone to Sen. John Ashcroft–who personifies the fiercest elements of the religious right and who, GOP insiders insist, was a leading candidate all along. The next day Ashcroft flew to Austin and met with Bush. The day after that, Bush offered him to America as its next attorney general.
Ashcroft’s elevation was a surprise–but shouldn’t have been. It turns out that he’s been riding shotgun on the right for the Bush family for years. Indeed, in 1991, NEWSWEEK learned, President George H.W. Bush had strongly considered naming Ashcroft, governor of Missouri at the time, to the post of attorney general as a way of smoothing Bush’s always-rocky relations with conservatives. Dubya’s political consigliere, Karl Rove, meanwhile, had been a consultant to Ashcroft’s Missouri races for decades; and Ashcroft’s brief presidential campaign was seen in Austin as a useful split-the-right device. (When Ashcroft dropped out of the race in 1999, he backed Dubya.)
Ashcroft’s ascent has launched a new Holy War in Washington–one that could presage a never-ending cultural clash featuring the same forces that divided the country last November. The new conflict threatens to consume at least the first days of a presidency Bush says he’d rather dedicate to unifying the country, cutting taxes and reforming education, health care and Social Security. The Bush team last week lost one conservative nomination (Linda Chavez) to questions about an illegal immigrant who did chores in her suburban Washington home. Now two others face searing fights: Ashcroft and Interior Secretary-designate Gale Norton.
It’s no accident that the attorney general’s job has sparked a battle. We live in a hyperlitigious society, in which law is politics by other means. Many of the country’s most contentious issues–from abortion to school prayer, from race relations to school funding–have been punted into the courts, or dragged there by crusading judges. The A.G. also starts–or squelches–probes of politicians, including presidents. Ever since JFK appointed his brother Robert to the job in 1961, the Justice Department at 10th and Penn in downtown D.C. has been ground zero for domestic politics.
Bush’s rocky transition is important for another reason: it’s all the evidence we really have of which kind of presidency he will run. The signs point to a White House in which the president doesn’t get bad news in a hurry (he didn’t know about Chavez’s housekeeper problems until 24 hours after the news first circulated); in which Dick Cheney has an enormous role; in which Bush and his aides long to spring surprises in a leakless world; in which losses are cut with coldblooded speed, and in which the strategists don’t mind–and perhaps even relish–picking a fight for the sake of securing Bush’s conservative base in a way his patrician father never could.
Ashcroft’s selection might well be shrewd politics–and bad governance. The Judiciary Committee holds its hearings this week, and the Bushies are counting on the Democrats to overplay their hand. There may be virtue in getting the post-election nastiness out of the way before serious legislating begins. Indeed, the smart money, at least as of last weekend, has Ashcroft winning confirmation. But as A.G. Ashcroft is sure to be a constant provocation, a lightning rod for controversy on issues of race, women’s rights, the environment–you name it. That, in itself, could detract from Bush’s legislative goals. Then again, maybe the new president’s playing a deeper game than we know. Every unifier needs a divider, somebody to make the other party mad.
In Ashcroft, Bush couldn’t have found a man who more fully represents a stick in the eye to liberals and Democrats. Ashcroft is a product of Yale College (like the president-elect and the veep-to-be, who left Yale after two years). But he comes from the other side of the campus ideologically from the one that produced Bill and Hillary Clinton (and Gary Hart and Jerry Brown, among others) at Yale Law.
For the Clintons, the law is an engine of social uplift, and a guarantor of individual and group rights on everything from affirmative action to abortion. To Ashcroft, who left New Haven to earn a law degree at the University of Chicago, the role of the law is to protect the life of the “unborn,” punish criminals with utmost severity and, for the most part, otherwise stay away from trying to perfect American society. His idea of academe includes the controversial Bob Jones University in the South Carolina Bible belt, where he was happy to speak and receive an honorary degree. Ashcroft has been skeptical or downright nasty about affirmative action, desegregation orders, gay rights and gun control–to name just a few of the hot buttons he has pressed.
By the weekend, the interest groups were pressing back, with information technology that makes the War Room of the early Clinton era look quaint. New Ashcroft Web sites, pro and con, were popping up daily (Million Mom March, Handgun Control, American Conservative Union), and dozens of organizations (from People for the American Way to NARAL) were firing off e-mails to core supporters. NARAL undertook a voter-education project that collected the names of 2.1 million newly identified pro-choice voters in 20 key states.
Ashcroft grew up in the anti-coastal, non-metropolitan America, far from NARAL headquarters, geographically and otherwise. Home was Springfield, Mo., where his father–and his father before him–were leading preachers in the Assembly of God Church, which forbids its congregants to smoke, dance or drink (among other things). As far as anyone knows, Ashcroft’s idea of walking on the wild side is to tuck into a giant dish of ice cream. Vanilla, of course, is a favorite. But he’s hardly a hick. After graduating from Yale in 1964 (he played rugby and wrote home every day), he opted for the free-market conservatism of the University of Chicago. He served two terms as Missouri attorney general, two as governor.
Ashcroft’s views are unquestionably provocative. (“The extremists’ extremist,” fumed Patricia Ireland of NOW; “the very worst executive-branch nominee ever,” said Ralph Neas of People for the American Way.) But now Ashcroft’s foes are looking for something other than well-known ideological lines of attack: evidence that he was not a man of preacherly decency in politics. His vituperative personal attacks on a judicial nominee–Missouri state court Judge Ronnie White–are well known. Successfully opposing White’s nomination to the federal bench, Ashcroft called him “pro-criminal.” But sources say that there is another, hidden reason for Ashcroft’s anger at White. When White was in the Missouri Legislature, he helped scuttle an anti-abortion bill championed by the then Governor Ashcroft, and Ashcroft never forgave him for it.
Others cite a more recent example of what they charge is unfair dealing: the overspinning by Ashcroft of a Senate vote. Last year he supported an amendment by Sen. Chuck Schumer to a law designed to protect abortion clinics. Ashcroft originally opposed the amendment, but switched only when it looked as if the measure was going to produce a 50-50 vote, and that Al Gore would win headlines for hustling back from the campaign trail to cast the tie-breaking vote. Majority Leader Trent Lott decided to “throw the vote.” Republicans in droves–including Ashcroft–switched to deny Gore the limelight. Yet Ashcroft, sources told NEWSWEEK, was retailing the vote on the Hill last week as an example of his commitment to protecting abortion clinics.
While Ashcroft and others are in the trenches, Bush has been staying above the fray–so much so that voters in the new NEWSWEEK Poll think less of the new president’s leadership ability and intellect than at any time since he announced his candidacy. During the Florida vote count he stayed largely out of view, clearing brush on his new ranch in Crawford, Texas. But even after his victory was sealed by the Supreme Court, he tended to be seen primarily as an inanimate figure listening to cabinet nominees. His own aides embarrassed him last November by failing to give him the full details of Cheney’s latest heart attack; Bush went before the cameras to offer blithe assurances that were later rendered “inoperative,” as they said in Dick Nixon’s days.
Bush had better hope for Cheney’s continued good health. The veep-elect was in full charge of the transition (and, before that, the vice presidential selection process that in the end picked him). In an interview with NEWSWEEK at transition headquarters, Cheney described a new “portfolio” of vice presidential responsibilities that is breathtaking in scope. He will be the first veep to have offices on both the House and the Senate sides of the Hill, NEWSWEEK has learned. He’ll be “involved in all aspects of national-security policy,” Cheney said. “And I’ll spend a fair amount of time on economic policy.” Also, he said, “from time to time I’m sure there will be special assignments and so forth.”
The Chavez story happened on his watch: the first mini-crisis for the administration-in-chrysalis. Word first circulated a week ago Saturday night about the “charitable help” Chavez had given to a Guatemalan illegal immigrant. Bush and Laura were relaxing at the ranch, blissfully unaware of the story, even when it broke the next morning on the Sunday talk shows–which Bush rarely watches.
Bush aides decided not to bother him about the matter. Communications chief Karen Hughes was amused at the thought that they should have leaped from their couches. “If you call the president,” said Hughes, “he’s going to ask: ‘Well, what are the facts?’ " Aides waited until Sunday night to call him–though they still didn’t have “the facts,” which took two more days of grilling Chavez and others to assemble. Bush didn’t call her to demand that she step aside. She knew enough to do that on her own. But he didn’t call her afterward, either. She had erred–embarrassed The Boss–and now was not entitled to any compassionate conservatism.
Chavez was spared the ordeal of a confirmation hearing. Ashcroft has no such luck, though he will probably have the entire GOP on his side. Republican moderates, at least for now, are sticking with the nominee. Party unity is critical in the Senate, which is divided 50-50, and which the Republicans will control (as of noon Saturday) by virtue of Vice President Cheney’s power to cast tie-breaking votes. Bush allies, led by Lott, insist they’ll have all 50 GOP votes. Ashcroft is well liked personally. Before he lost his Senate race he was a member of a barbershop quartet (The Singing Senators), and last month he sought out–and made peace with–the Democrat who funneled campaign cash to his race, Sen. Robert Torricelli. “You beat me fair and square,” Ashcroft told him.
The Bush team had quietly surveyed Republican sentiment in advance. A week before Bush met with the presumptive favorite, Racicot, Cheney met privately with five Northeastern moderates. In Arlen Specter’s “hideaway” office on Capitol Hill, Specter and Jim Jeffords touted Ashcroft for A.G. without being asked. Cheney, of course, knew that Ashcroft was a top contender, but said nothing. “He gave an inscrutable look,” Specter said. Cheney told NEWSWEEK he didn’t recall that the subject came up.
With no GOP foes in sight, there aren’t enough Democrats to beat him–even if all 50 voted against. Most will do so. Some of the most ardent and visible opponents are those who are up for re-election in 2002 or who are considering a run for president. That list includes Joe Biden, John Kerry, John Edwards, Evan Bayh and Hillary Rodham Clinton. Some of the moderate Democrats are wavering but can’t afford to ignore black voters who are likely to find Ashcroft’s record anathema. Overall, the conventional wisdom says, the Democrats can muster 40 “no” votes; 25 are locked in. As of now, that’s not even enough to tie up the Senate in a filibuster, which requires 41 votes.
But the “club” in the cloakrooms doesn’t run the Senate anymore. TV does. Ashcroft will have to survive Washington’s version of reality-based programming: a full-dress Judiciary Committee hearing. And he will have to do so in front of a skeptical public. In the NEWSWEEK Poll, a plurality of voters (41 percent) think the Senate should reject his nomination because he is “too far to the right on issues like abortion, drugs and gun control.” Only 37 percent think the Senate should approve him; a crucial 22 percent don’t know. Those numbers aren’t likely to scare Democrats–and can’t make Ashcroft feel secure.
To Bush and Cheney, this is sound and fury, signifying little. To NEWSWEEK, Cheney was combative and a bit caustic. “I just disagree with people’s perception of John Ashcroft,” he said. “This is a guy who has probably got better credentials to be attorney general of the United States than anybody who occupied that office in this century.” Ashcroft, Cheney said, “is being hounded only because of his policy views.”
As for Bush, he had a mellower view, almost blase. “What happens in Washington is, special interests get ahold of the candidacy,” the president-elect told Newsweek as he flew east from Austin last week for a round of meetings. “I understand that. I welcome John getting questions.” If black suspicions about a Bush presidency–heightened by Ashcroft’s nomination–bothered him, he didn’t show it. “I hear them on TV occasionally,” Bush said, shrugging.
Meanwhile, he was working on his Inauguration speech. When Bush is sworn in, he will likely place his hand on the same Bible his father used in 1989. And for the first time since he was sworn in as governor of Texas in 1995, Dubya will wear cuff links his father had worn in World War II. It’s a small memento–but a reminder of something truly important. Washington battles like Ashcroft’s may get nasty–but we’re all lucky to be allowed to have them.
