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Thursday, 13 September 2012

COME BACK TO THE FIVE-AND-DIME, JIMMY DEAN ...( or: "Bubba Makes Me Tingly")


If those of us who pay attention to these things learned anything from last week’s US political conventions – apart from the sad fact of Clint Eastwood having followed Charlton Heston’s path from tooth-gritting tough guy to jabbering senile reactionary – it’s that William Jefferson Clinton could probably be elected President again this year, if he were allowed to run.

            For all President Obama’s intellectual brilliance, he has never once given a speech as nuanced or effective as the one delivered by Bubba the other night; it was by turns informative, charming, inspiring and just plain savage. It evoked memories of the 1993 address to a joint-sitting of Congress, when – ignoring the teleprompter – he riffed impromptu for nearly an hour (brevity’s never been his strength) on his deficit-reduction plan.

            It was masterful. Without ever becoming mired in dry jargon, he outlined not only the political and economic challenges America faces in coming years, but also practical ideas for confronting them. Without ever descending to name-calling or base sloganeering, he surgically neutered the theories of the opposition; demonstrated why the opposition themselves are hidebound, hare-brained ideologues who, given the chance, will compound the disasters of the last decade; and all the while gave the appearance of seeking a bipartisan love-in to rejuvenate the nation.

            They called Reagan The Great Communicator; Obama, The Professor in Chief. The former was effective in the way corporate motivators and appliance salesmen are effective: he had a nice line in slogans, and his demeanour made you trust him. The latter, while inspiring when harnessing his personal history to the deep-running streams of the American psyche, tends to get bogged down when it comes to selling policy. That’s why he left himself open to the charge of “class-warfare” over tax-reform, even with Warren Buffett standing next to him on the White House lawn.

            Bubba’s different. He falls out somewhere between your favourite uncle, a Nobel Laureate in Economics, and Casanova; he’s a folksy, intelligent seducer. “Come here,” he seems to say, that little grin curling the corners of his eyes. “Sit down with me, I’m gonna tell you how it is. Trust me”.

            I was moved afterwards to pull his most recent book, Back to Work, down from the shelf. The same style and substance are evident here as well. There he is on the cover, broad face smiling – warm, knowing. More than any writer besides, perhaps, Hunter Thompson or William Burroughs, you can hear his voice in your head as you read. In a very few pages, in that same, concise, easy manner, he sets out the situation at present (2011, when he was writing); how it was arrived at; the alternative theories on offer – and their flaws; and a forty-six point plan for solving the problems and moving ahead renewed.

            During his second term – and ever since – we got distracted by Bill Clinton’s trousers. It’s too easy to forget that he also happens to be brilliant. When he first came to office, conservatives were up in arms at the possibility of an un-elected co-presidency; such was Hillary’s prominence and ambition. The United States could do worse, four and-a-half years from now, than to end up with exactly that. If Mitt Romney is elected this year, they’re really going to need it.

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