Bush Bites Back

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The revived debate over Bush's knowledge of the Iran deal challenges the central thesis of his campaign: his loyal service as Reagan's "co-pilot." For more than a year, Bush has clung to the classic Reagan defense: ignorance. The Vice President has insisted that although he supported the arms sales, it was only in late 1986, after the story had broken publicly, that he learned they were little more than a sordid attempt to trade for hostages, and that profits were diverted to help the Nicaraguan contras. Bush was left relatively unscarred by both the Tower commission and the reports of the congressional committees, which portrayed him as a bit player. It was not a heroic image for the Vice President, but it provided a degree of political safety.

That defense was undermined last week when a story in the Washington Post (reprinted on Page One of the Des Moines Register) challenged the plausibility of Bush's denials. There were no dramatic revelations, just an elaboration of the circumstantial evidence that Bush was at too many meetings not to have sensed what was really happening. The fire storm caught Bush's top aides by surprise. "He's saying the same things Reagan said," argued one adviser. "Why shouldn't people believe him?"

That captures the inherent weakness of Bush's position. Unlike anyone else in the Iran-contra affair, the Vice President is bucking for a promotion. His problems are not based on legal culpability, although he will provide sworn testimony to the staff of Independent Counsel Lawrence Walsh early this week. The issues in Bush's case are judgment and veracity. If he was as close to the President as he claims, why did he not recognize the warning signs (evident in the notes of his own meetings) of what was clearly an arms-for-hostages deal? As the proud author of the Administration's tough anti-terrorism policy, how could he have let the President be led into violating a central tenet of that policy, a refusal to make deals with hostage takers? Even his claimed ignorance is a pallid excuse, since it suggests, as Haig put it in an earlier debate, that Bush was not the plane's copilot, but merely "back in economy class."

The day before the Iowa debate, Bush's staff persuaded him to face the press in an impromptu news conference. The scene conveyed as much as the evasive answers: Bush cornered by a knot of reporters, undeterred by the almost arctic temperatures. For 15 minutes he challenged the premise of many questions and repeatedly pleaded a failure to remember. He staunchly refused to discuss what advice he had given the President, although he has portrayed himself at times as a solid supporter of the arms-to-Iran fiasco and at other times as a man who expressed some private reservations.

Dole, who campaigned most of the week in New Hampshire, was by contrast the happy warrior. Every stop provided him with a new opportunity to needle Bush. Nothing too sharp, of course, because Dole knows he must be careful about his own image. "We don't want any of that hatchet stuff," he says with a not- quite-disarming smile. Still, Dole remains incorrigible. Even his blandest remarks about the Vice President have an edge. "George Bush and I have a lot in common," Dole said. Pause. "We're about the same height." Even when Dole claims that Bush is a friend, he cannot resist adding, "the last time I checked."