Will the real Mr. Clinton please stand up?

By Peter Lemiska

Those who seek public office, it seems, have something in common with actors. Their success hinges on one important element: acceptance by the masses. Talent, of course helps, but ultimately, neither will go very far unless they can sway the crowds.

Every campaigner understands this and most are willing to play to the crowds in exchange for that all-important vote. We have to live with the fact that, in public, nearly every politician is little bit of an actor — some more than others.

Throughout his public life, Bill Clinton has been showing us how it's done. Like the Hollywood actors who so adore him, the former president is capable of assuming any role, acting out any emotion, to win the people over.

Remember his depiction of self-righteous indignation? It was a defining moment in his presidency when he stood before the cameras and vehemently denied the allegations about him and "that woman." But it was the pointed index finger that made the performance so compelling. It was a stroke of genius from the master.

Soon after, he took on the role of the innocent victim of a vast right wing conspiracy — the target of an out-of-control prosecutor. It's a role he periodically reprises to this day.

And who can forget those spontaneous tears at Ron Brown's funeral, prompted by the prying lens of a video camera and squeezed out by sheer determination? Or the gut-wrenching moment at the D-Day memorial on Normandy beach when Mr. Clinton, seemingly lost in thought, paused poignantly to arrange a few scattered stones into the form of a cross. The staffer who conceived the idea and planted the stones was good, but the performance was masterful.

Clinton has once again returned to his cherished limelight, not to campaign for votes this time, but to hawk his long awaited life story. The new book and the ensuing string of interviews are clearly intended to repair some of the damage he suffered during his impeachment and his scandalous administration.

For that, he's taken on a new role, that of a courageous crusader, who earned a "badge of honor" by dauntlessly resisting those self-described illicit impeachment proceedings.

If that performance is a little tough to swallow, he can also do contrite, as we learned during his recent 60 Minutes interview, when he shamefully explained his adulterous behavior. He did it for "the worst possible reason." simply because he could. It may have been his most sincere statement in recent weeks, though it wasn't much of a revelation.

The problem is that it's often hard to recognize real candor during Clinton's interviews. Most of us realize by now that his greatest gift, and perhaps the secret to his legendary charm, is his uncanny ability to feign sincerity.

During a recent interview, when BBC commentator David Dimbleby had the temerity to question that sincerity, to go where Dan Rather would rather not go, he got a glimpse of Clinton's real persona. And it was not pretty.

Bill Clinton's public record as president has always been perceived as extraordinary to dismal, depending on your political persuasion.

Did he really do everything in his power to combat terrorism? His rejection of the Sudanese offer to turn over Osama bin Laden and his pardon of those FALN terrorists might suggest otherwise.

And what about his much-touted economic boom? Was it real or simply a bubble — an illusion created with smoke, mirrors, and juggled statistics? Did he really "create" thousands of jobs, or did he simply move countless unqualified and incompetent welfare recipients into lucrative positions in government and the private sector?

Though historians and political analysts will debate those questions for years to come, Clinton's ability to manipulate public opinion, to "reel them in," is indisputable.

But while the "Clinton con" has served him well over the years, his increasingly outrageous comments, fueled by a hyper-inflated ego and propensity to deflect blame, may yet be his downfall.

His twisted logic was epitomized in a recent statement that can only be described as bizarre. To explain why so many Americans view him with disgust, he offered this observation: "When the Berlin Wall fell, the perpetual right in America, which always needs an enemy, didn't have an enemy anymore, so I had to serve as the next best thing."

The Great Manipulator is using his book tour to carp out his place in history, and if his pathetic caterwauling continues, he may succeed in altering history's perception. He just might be remembered, not as the president impeached for perjury and obstruction of justice, but simply as a small man with a big ego.

© Peter Lemiska