Down In History

(4 of 6)

With so many Republicans unwilling to vote for the Democrats' proposal, the only suspense was how many Democrats would defect and cross party lines. The expectations game played out all week; at one point there was giddy talk of as many as 100, then 50 became the watermark, but in the end it was just 31. Only a few did so because they thought the Democratic alternative wasn't tough enough. The rest are either retiring and thus free to vote their conscience, or in a tight election fight and want to disarm their G.O.P. opponent. "By voting for this, I'll have more credibility to criticize Republicans if they continue to behave in a partisan fashion," said Ellen Tauscher, a savvy freshman from suburban San Francisco. "It doesn't appear to me now that these offenses rise to impeachable offenses," she added, but it is all her opponent will talk about. "I want to talk about why he opposes the assault-weapons ban and why he supports the flat tax. Partisan Republicans want this election to be about the President. [But] the American people are fair, hardworking and, thank God, self-centered. They want this election to be about them."

Democrats circulated polls to bolster their courage. One showed that not only Democrats but independents too would be less inclined to vote for someone who approved an impeachment inquiry. But the White House almost overdid it. Despite its insistence that the President wasn't muscling fence-sitting Democrats, some members were furious at even the appearance of pressure. Any contact with the White House was doing more harm than good. Some tactics were foolhardy on their face, such as trying to get 34 Democratic Senators--who are, after all, supposed to sit as fair-minded jurors--to announce pre-emptively that they wouldn't vote to convict Clinton if he were impeached. That brought a dark warning from the sage of the Senate, Robert Byrd of West Virginia: "I would suggest by way of friendly advice to the White House: Don't tamper with the jury."

At an Oval Office photo op Wednesday morning, Clinton gave the impression he was just gently holding hands: "I have received a large number of calls from House members," he said. "I haven't been able to return them all because we have other things to do, and I'll try to call the rest of them today," which was sort of like arguing that they were having sex with him but he wasn't having sex with them. A few hours later, his hapless new press secretary, Joe Lockhart, was forced to concede that indeed the President was making calls as well and that the ratio between calls he was making and calls he was returning was "kind of fifty-fifty." By midday the number of likely Democratic defectors seemed to be ballooning rather than shrinking. "The White House is screwing this up," complained a vote counter Wednesday midday. "We're taking on water."

The President and his party are so estranged that anything he did inspired them to complain. When he tried to argue his case, they told him to be quiet. And when he left them alone, with instructions to vote their conscience, he had somehow failed to make it easy. Complained a Democratic strategist on the Hill: "He could have said, 'I think this process is partisan and unfair, but it's inevitable, so go ahead and vote for it and let's get on with it.' But he didn't. Instead he said, 'Vote your conscience.' Now let me ask you, who the f___ is Bill Clinton to tell us about our consciences?"