MONT VERNON, NEW HAMPSHIRE -- John Edwards is the new comeback kid. The North
Carolina senator has assumed the title previously held by former president Bill
Clinton, who awarded it to himself on the night of the 1992 New Hampshire
primary. That was after his presidential campaign had bounced back from
scandals over the candidate's dodging the Vietnam draft and his relationship
with blond chanteuse Gennifer Flowers, allowing Clinton to finish second to
Paul Tsongas in the Granite State.
Edwards hasn't had to overcome anything as sordid as Gennifer Flowers. His
hurdle came in the form of NBC's Meet the Press host Tim Russert.
Edwards's plan to position himself as 2004's Bill Clinton had been playing out
beautifully -- positive profiles in New York magazine, the New
Yorker, and Vanity Fair -- until an encounter with Russert
demonstrated the would-be candidate's inability to move beyond buzzwords.
During a May 5, 2002, appearance on Meet the Press, Edwards criticized
Bush's War on Terrorism, but didn't say whether he would commit more American
troops to fight in Afghanistan. Edwards also took issue with Bush's Middle East
policy, but was unable to articulate an alternative. Washington Post
media writer Howard Kurtz summed up the interview in a May 10 column headlined
JOHN EDWARDS FALLS TO EARTH, in which he quoted Beltway pundits such as Roll
Call's Stuart Rothenberg and the Chicago Sun-Times' Robert Novak
belittling Edwards's ability to dish out substance. And, in the wake of that
Meet the Press performance, the New Republic predicted, "The law
of political gravity says that what goes up must come down, which means that
North Carolina Senator John Edwards had best prepare for some decidedly
terrestrial publicity."
Presidential politics moved at a slower pace in 1992. Then, a candidate's rise
and fall (or, in Clinton's case, fall and rise) spanned the entire campaign
season. Now, just a decade later, a
candidate can fall from grace and recoup within a few months -- and there's
more than a year to go until the election. All that opinion-leader blowback
seemed a long way away last month when I caught up with Edwards in New
Hampshire less than two months after his mini-meltdown on Meet the
Press. He was back to echoing early Clinton -- working from the same script
that had won him glowing press notices. "I think people are looking for leaders
who have principles . . . things they've fought for all of their
lives and they're willing to stand up and fight for them," said Edwards,
standing underneath a tree moments before a torrent of rain broke over him. And
later: "We saw back in the 1990s, when President Clinton was in office, [that]
what works is being fiscally responsible and having balanced budgets creating
surpluses instead of creating deficits."
Of course, there are plenty of differences between Clinton and Edwards -- the
first being their nemeses: Flowers is a pouty woman from Arkansas, while
Russert is a stocky man from Buffalo. Clinton was a Southern rogue in the
manner of Elvis Presley; Edwards, whose father worked in a cotton mill and who
was the first member of his family to go to college, evokes John-Boy from
The Waltons. And from the look of things, New Hampshire likes
John-Boy.
Edwards made a string of Granite State appearances in late June -- among the
highlights, a meet-and-greet at a Democratic pig-roast, in Bow. I observed
Edwards address a small house party in Mont Vernon at the kind of event New
Hampshire is famous for -- an intimate (fewer than 50 people) gathering where
party stalwarts get to quiz would-be candidates. When I asked Edwards how he
had recovered from the wave of criticism that he's not ready for prime time, he
pushed through the question without hesitation. "I just behave the way I am,
and I don't change," he answered, in his languid Carolinian drawl. "People in
Washington are going to love you one day and not love you the next. You can't
pay any attention to that. You just have to do what you believe is right and
continue on the same course."
Edwards voices no ill will toward Russert, calling him "a very good journalist
[who] asks very good questions" -- a pragmatic move for an ambitious
politician. Still, Edwards is more eager to focus on voters than on Washington
opinion leaders. "I think what I need to do is do what I'm doing today and do
what I've always done, which is to talk to and listen to regular people -- what
their concerns are -- and to have a real idea and vision about how to address
their problems," he says.
Edwards's confidence has its basis in certain facts evident to anybody watching
his field of potential rivals. At 19 months before the 2004 New Hampshire
primary, he's still the only credible new face in the running for the
Democratic presidential nomination. Former vice-president Al Gore, a man who
has been involved in the past four presidential races, is also likely to run,
this time as his own man, with minimal reliance on consultants -- a boast made
all the more easily since his former strategist, Bob Shrum, is leaning toward
working for Edwards. House minority leader Richard Gephardt is a veteran of the
1988 presidential campaign and long-time Gore rival (see "Clash of the Titans,"
News, June 14). Even Massachusetts senator John Kerry, a formidable candidate
and decorated Vietnam veteran who's gained notice for criticizing Bush's
military leadership, has been on the national political scene for four
decades.
Edwards is lucky that even for many core New Hampshire Democrats, he is a fresh
face, a candidate who can appeal to activists worn out by campaign fatigue. He
says as much when asked by a voter about the competition. "I think I represent
something different," Edwards notes. "I have an outside-Washington perspective.
And I have a view of the world that I think is similar to regular Americans'. I
don't see things through the eyes of Washington."
Where the likes of Russert, Rothenberg, Novak, et al. want specific
answers to tough follow-up questions, voters -- even those who show up to quiz
would-be presidential candidates -- are more often than not just as happy with
a string of glib generalities, which is pretty much what Edwards gives them. No
smooth Clintonesque blend of policy expertise with the personal for Edwards.
Still, it might be enough. The voters seem taken with the newcomer --
despite his sometimes less-than-stellar oratory.
Exhibit A: when he got to the subject of income disparity between the rich and
poor, Edwards seemed ready to discuss a substantive problem in depth -- as if
he were going to deliver some innovative solution that would restore the vital
center of American politics. He started out promisingly: "I think you could ask
the American people tomorrow -- and I'm talking about people who live in rural
North Carolina, who sometimes vote Democratic and sometimes vote Republican, I
think we can convince them tomorrow -- that every child in America ought to get
a first-class education." And then . . . nothing. While packaged as a
unique statement delivered by a Democrat who managed to win an election in
Jesse Helms's own state, Edwards's comment scaled the pinnacle of banality, if
such a thing is possible.
Who among serious Americans -- including the Republicans -- doesn't think
students ought to receive the best possible education? Policy fights involve
how best to achieve this -- not the general principle, which was all Edwards
had to offer.
That said, the substance of Edwards's statement was far less important than its
subtext. When he mentioned swing voters, for example, Edwards was sure to
invoke their presence in "rural North Carolina," his own home territory. This
was his way of reminding these Northerners that the people who ultimately
decide US general elections are Southern swing voters -- a not-so-coded way of
warning New Hampshirites away from the temptation of supporting a well-known
Northeasterner, such as Kerry, or a stalwart economic liberal, such as
Gephardt.
During the voter question-and-answer period, Edwards responded to eight people,
some of whom asked multiple questions. Of these, only one asked about the
progress of the War on Terrorism. Another asked about the Bush administration's
refusal to abide by international agreements -- although this particular query
focused on the environmental Kyoto Treaty. Others asked about missile defense
and the right of the Democratic opposition to challenge and question the
president. But on the whole, voter questions focused overwhelmingly on domestic
issues, matters Edwards could easily address. One voter, for example, asked
Edwards about his position on abortion. The candidate responded that he is a
"strong supporter [of] a woman's right to choose." He then recalled his vote
against Pennsylvania senator Rick Santorum's ban on so-called partial-birth
abortion. "I think I was the only Southern senator -- Democrat or Republican --
to vote against that," Edwards said. Certainly, his vote was admirable. It
carried a degree of risk for a senator representing a socially conservative
state. But any candidate hoping to capture the Democratic nomination for
president better be solid on abortion rights.
Edwards, a former trial lawyer, did better on the subject of the corporate
abuses that led to the demise of Enron and WorldCom. He actually moved the
debate forward by discussing the corporate attorneys who sometimes aided and
abetted the problems that permitted unscrupulous executives to engage in
wrongdoing. "One of the problems we have is that the lawyer sometimes believes
the CEO is their client because that's the person they know," said Edwards.
"They have a relationship with that woman or that man who runs the company, and
so that's the person they talk to. So the result is they do what that person
wants them to do instead of recognizing they have a responsibility to the
shareholders, the investors, the company, and not [to] give these CEOs the kind
of leeway they want. . . . One thing we haven't done anything
about is track down the lawyers and hold them responsible for what they're
doing too."
Edwards showed himself at his best when making small one-on-one connections.
Voter Peter Braen confronted Edwards with a three-part question, the second
facet of which involved a piece of patent legislation called the Bayh-Dole Act.
Braen contended that the act gave the federal government the authority to
pressure prescription-drug companies into lowering prices. Edwards admitted
that he had never heard of the law in question, but quickly focused on the
central issue -- out-of-control prescription-drug costs. "Because of the way
the system is structured, when [the drug companies] file for the patent it gets
listed in a book, and then if litigation ensues they get automatic protection
for 18 months, and during that time they maintain their monopoly," Edwards
said. "I've heard their profits are as much as $2 million a day. Who pays
for that?" In agreement, Braen responded, "Oh, yeah."
By the time Edwards began his answer to the third part of Braen's question --
about the need for the Democrats to voice dissent -- he had fully engaged his
interlocutor. Edwards recounted how he had confronted Attorney General John
Ashcroft when the Bush-administration official warned senators against helping
Al Qaeda. He also acknowledged that "in the harried environment of trying to do
all these things, we're not as good as we need to be." Braen interjected, "I've
been disappointed in the Democratic response to all this stuff." Edwards
promised, "We need to do better." Braen upped the ante, calling the Democrats a
"bunch of wimps." Edwards concluded by agreeing, "Yeah. We need to speak
up. . . . People like Ashcroft are wrong when they say those
kinds of things. Very dangerously wrong." The exchange didn't end there. Later,
when the candidate took questions from others, he referred again to Braen's
remarks.
Edwards's performance left Braen favorably disposed toward him. Following the
talk's conclusion, he gave the North Carolina senator high marks. "I have not
met him or heard much about him until today," said the voter, who noted that he
was not aware of Edwards's appearance on Meet the Press but has made a
habit of visiting presidential candidates when they come to New Hampshire.
"He made a good impression on me today," said Braen, praising Edwards's
"position on freedom of choice, his position on education, his position even on
health care."
The May meltdown doesn't seem to have hurt Edwards with Democratic activists
either. "I think he's smart," says Concord lawyer Chris Sullivan, who supported
Bill Bradley in 2000 and has not yet made a decision for 2004, although he
hosted an event for Edwards during an earlier visit to New Hampshire. "I think
he's committed to issues that everyday people care about. I think he's got a
great future." Referring to Edwards's fresh face, Sullivan adds, "I think
that's part of his appeal for some people. Dick Gephardt has been coming to New
Hampshire for 20 years. People know a lot about John Kerry. People are having
fun learning about someone else on the block."
The local press also views Edward's foray into New Hampshire positively. The
Concord Monitor gave Edwards a rave review with a story headlined
EDWARDS DAZZLES DEMOCRATS. And where the local press leads, national opinion
leaders may follow. Edwards had a near entourage of national reporters with him
during the recent visit to New Hampshire. Reuters chief political correspondent
John Whitesides came north to observe him. So did GQ writer Robert
Draper, who got the fanatically fit Edwards to discuss his penchant for
high-priced running shoes before the talk began.
The lesson for big-foot journalists is clear: the so-called Russert Primary may
not be all that important when it comes to real voters. Edwards needs to
impress enough rank-and-file activists in New Hampshire to enable him to finish
second to Kerry come February 2004; his inability to inspire political
columnists or pundits remains a distant secondary concern. That's why this
John-Boy look-alike is still very much in play in the Granite State at this
stage of the 2004 presidential race.
Seth Gitell can be reached at sgitell[a]phx.com.
Issue Date: July 12 - 18, 2002