Viewpoint: O.K., He's Presidential. Now What?

Las

t week, bowing to the ravages of foot-and-mouth in the British countryside, Tony Blair ended an orgy of speculation by choosing June 7 instead of May 3 for local elections — and thus, everyone expects, for the general election he wishes so badly to win. The Prime Minister's decision about the date may be the last surprise of the campaign. Nothing the Tories do, not even 54% disapproval in a recent MORI poll of the way the government has handled foot-and-mouth, can seem to shake Labour's steady 15- to 20-point lead when people report how they plan to vote.

The Labour Party machine grumbled about having to rework long-polished plans for ad buys and ministerial appearances. Otherwise, Blair's postponement was considered a smart move, blunting the Tories' accusations that he is arrogant and puts party above country.

Even so, there was criticism of Blair's presidentialism: of taking personal control of fighting the epidemic rather than leaving it to the responsible cabinet minister; of not consulting the cabinet as he weighed which date to pick; of leaking his choice to the Sun tabloid, Rupert Murdoch's 3.5-million-reader god who must be propitiated above all others, before he told the cabinet or Parliament.

But at this stage, to criticize Blair for being presidential is like criticizing Elizabeth Taylor for having been married. Of course he is. To me, arriving in Britain after covering the Clinton White House, the evidence that 10 Downing St. has borrowed liberally from 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. is overwhelming, in things great and small.

Both Clinton (New Democrat) and Blair (New Labour) hauled their previously unelectable parties to the center: tough on crime and welfare and defense, sympathetic to the poor but eager to modernize the clunky bureaucracies that serve them, pro-business. Their policy wonks became friends and traded ideas, like the minimum wage, tax credits for the working poor, training for the unemployed.

But it is not so much Third Way ideology but the daily technique of governing where they look like a cloning experiment. Clinton invented the campaign war room, primed to rebut bad news within hours, but Blair's spin machine (fueled by regular staff exchanges and consultants who work both sides of the Atlantic) is just as accomplished. And, like Clinton's, it is always on. The overwhelming goal is re-election; the method is domination of the news, in order to convince swing voters — regularly polled and prodded in focus groups — that the government is delivering things they like.

Domination demands a single message, a single brand for good TV — and Blair is it. A cabinet of near equals, each elbowing for a place in the sun, may be the British tradition but obscures the brand. Parliament is irrelevant too. All that yakking keeps columnists employed but makes no dent on swing voters. As with Clinton, the most important people in Blair's life are his brand managers: his spokesman Alastair Campbell and message guru Peter Mandelson — who though recently whisked from the cabinet because he appeared untrustworthy, was back on the phone with Blair figuring out when to call the election. In the movie he could be played by Clinton's flawed genius Dick Morris.

A presidential brand must behave in ways that seem ludicrous or cynical to the rest of us. Blair flattened his haircut because a focus group of women said it was too bouffant. Clinton chose his summer holiday spot by secret poll. William Hague, the Conservative leader, knows people have come to distrust Blair's relentless spin machine, but lacking a contrasting craggy authenticity, employs the same techniques. He too borrows policies from the U.S. and went after the Sun vote by revealing he used to drink 16 pints of beer a day. His campaign is strangely like Bob Dole's against Clinton in 1996. He has tacked right and his speeches fume about what Britain has lost at the hands of Blair's "metropolitan élite," rather than exuding optimism about what he can accomplish. Like Dole, he keeps repeating "I trust the people." So far they do not trust him back.

The oddest thing about President Blair is why he has not done more with the vast powers he has accumulated. Republicans controlled Clinton's Congress; Blair has a 179-seat majority but his legislation has stressed prudence and caution. Of course, if keeping the acclaim of swing voters is your goal in life, it's hard to climb out of a defensive crouch. Maybe this will change. One Blair aide says that the theme of this election will be "Hold on, we're investing, it takes time," and the next one, in 2005, will be "We've got results, it's taken radicalism, we can do more." History gives few examples of leaders who become more radical in office. But Blair will have to do just that if he wishes to keep a final Clintonian gift from being thrust upon him: admired more for his accomplishments as a politician than as a leader.