THE SUMMER OF DEMOCRATIC RENAISSANCE
July 9 - August 15, 1992
Bill Clinton arrived at the Convention in full ardor, running mate in tow, and ready to give the speech of his life. Posing as an outsider - a laughable notion given Clinton was the ultimate politician - but one who wasn't paranoid about, well, everything, Clinton stepped up in New York City and took the nomination over four days in July of 1992. Running as a responsible centrist - tax cuts for the middle class financed by the wealthy, deficit reduction, pro-choice but hardly a militant about abortion, not exactly opposed to gun owner rights, but seemingly contrarian with his advocacy of open gays in a military whose service he once eschewed and "loathed" - Clinton benefited from the pragmatism of a party desperate to regain the White House. Unlike the nomination processes that had marked the party as the rule since 1972, Clinton did things (and took positions) that never would have been allowed by the conventions that nominated George McGovern, Walter Mondale, and Michael Dukakis. He was on the record as favoring the death penalty, he talked about how "welfare recipients" must "show responsibility" (a comment that would still be held up today as racist if Clinton was a Republican), and his record on the environment in Arkansas was mediocre at best. But good fortune plays as much a role in a Presidential election as anything, and Clinton benefited from the fact the first-ever African-American party leader, Ron Brown, gave Clinton cover every time the Hard Left reared its head.
And speaking of luck, Clinton was born under a four-leaf clover given what occurred on the memorable afternoon of July 16, 1992, when the biggest bombshell in the race went off: Ross Perot, who had been in a dead heat with the incumbent President and the beleaguered centrist challenger, committed political seppuku and withdrew from a race he had technically never even entered in the first place. He went through the process of firing both of his campaign managers, blamed them by saying "there had never been a bad story about me until you guys came aboard," and inserted himself into the Democratic National Convention mere hours before Clinton was to give his acceptance speech, an act that necessitated Clinton rewriting sections of the monologue. Perot declared that since the Democratic Party has "revitalized itself" he had "concluded we cannot win in November" because "the election would be cast into the House of Representatives." Donning a cloak of virtue, Perot said that that delay would impinge the incoming administration and narrow the transition window, so he was withdrawing.
His claim was so laughably absurd on its face that nobody took it seriously. Newsweek ran a headline calling Perot "Quitter", and Ed Rollins, Perot's just fired Republican manager, said that Perot was withdrawing because he didn't want to listen to the advice of professional consultants (like Rollins) and do things like polling, holding a convention, or run targeted TV ads.
His excuse was not only pathetic, it would take less than two weeks for Perot to come out and say he withdrew because the Bush campaign was going to sabotage his daughter's wedding. Forgotten was any of his nobility about the country.
The news hit the country like a nuclear bomb. And it is also one of the reasons that Republicans insist to this day that Perot cost Bush the election. Did he? Most probably not, but I will cover that in the epilogue. What is indisputable, however, is that liberal columnist Mary McGrory AT THE TIME wrote:
In the lobby of Clinton's headquarters hotel, the Inter-Continental, Clinton pollster Stan Greenberg was unleashed to explain the aftershock. The South, which supposedly had been sewed up by the southern-fried Clinton-Gore ticket, will now be contested. Had Perot stayed in, he would have robbed Bush of the usual GOP majorities.
In short, Perot's participation was at least going to distract Bush from being able to take the South for granted. And there was another - for the time - short-term benefit: Perot's withdrawal was a booster rocket attached to the Clinton campaign, showing the Arkansas Governor with a 42-30 lead over Bush (it was tied at 30 for all three entering July). And then came the long-term benefit: a bus trip through the Rust Belt designed to ride the momentum to election. It succeeded far beyond the Clinton campaign's wildest dreams, even praised by Republican consultant Charlie Black as a "master stroke." By the time it was over, Bill Clinton was an incredible 24 points ahead of Bush, the largest lead of any Democratic candidate in a Presidential elections since Carter's 33-point lead over President Ford in 1976.
With Perot gone and Clinton roaring into the lead, the scrutiny now focused on President Bush and one particular question: should he dump Dan Quayle as his running mate for the fall election?
July 9 - August 15, 1992
Bill Clinton arrived at the Convention in full ardor, running mate in tow, and ready to give the speech of his life. Posing as an outsider - a laughable notion given Clinton was the ultimate politician - but one who wasn't paranoid about, well, everything, Clinton stepped up in New York City and took the nomination over four days in July of 1992. Running as a responsible centrist - tax cuts for the middle class financed by the wealthy, deficit reduction, pro-choice but hardly a militant about abortion, not exactly opposed to gun owner rights, but seemingly contrarian with his advocacy of open gays in a military whose service he once eschewed and "loathed" - Clinton benefited from the pragmatism of a party desperate to regain the White House. Unlike the nomination processes that had marked the party as the rule since 1972, Clinton did things (and took positions) that never would have been allowed by the conventions that nominated George McGovern, Walter Mondale, and Michael Dukakis. He was on the record as favoring the death penalty, he talked about how "welfare recipients" must "show responsibility" (a comment that would still be held up today as racist if Clinton was a Republican), and his record on the environment in Arkansas was mediocre at best. But good fortune plays as much a role in a Presidential election as anything, and Clinton benefited from the fact the first-ever African-American party leader, Ron Brown, gave Clinton cover every time the Hard Left reared its head.
And speaking of luck, Clinton was born under a four-leaf clover given what occurred on the memorable afternoon of July 16, 1992, when the biggest bombshell in the race went off: Ross Perot, who had been in a dead heat with the incumbent President and the beleaguered centrist challenger, committed political seppuku and withdrew from a race he had technically never even entered in the first place. He went through the process of firing both of his campaign managers, blamed them by saying "there had never been a bad story about me until you guys came aboard," and inserted himself into the Democratic National Convention mere hours before Clinton was to give his acceptance speech, an act that necessitated Clinton rewriting sections of the monologue. Perot declared that since the Democratic Party has "revitalized itself" he had "concluded we cannot win in November" because "the election would be cast into the House of Representatives." Donning a cloak of virtue, Perot said that that delay would impinge the incoming administration and narrow the transition window, so he was withdrawing.
His claim was so laughably absurd on its face that nobody took it seriously. Newsweek ran a headline calling Perot "Quitter", and Ed Rollins, Perot's just fired Republican manager, said that Perot was withdrawing because he didn't want to listen to the advice of professional consultants (like Rollins) and do things like polling, holding a convention, or run targeted TV ads.
His excuse was not only pathetic, it would take less than two weeks for Perot to come out and say he withdrew because the Bush campaign was going to sabotage his daughter's wedding. Forgotten was any of his nobility about the country.
The news hit the country like a nuclear bomb. And it is also one of the reasons that Republicans insist to this day that Perot cost Bush the election. Did he? Most probably not, but I will cover that in the epilogue. What is indisputable, however, is that liberal columnist Mary McGrory AT THE TIME wrote:
In the lobby of Clinton's headquarters hotel, the Inter-Continental, Clinton pollster Stan Greenberg was unleashed to explain the aftershock. The South, which supposedly had been sewed up by the southern-fried Clinton-Gore ticket, will now be contested. Had Perot stayed in, he would have robbed Bush of the usual GOP majorities.
In short, Perot's participation was at least going to distract Bush from being able to take the South for granted. And there was another - for the time - short-term benefit: Perot's withdrawal was a booster rocket attached to the Clinton campaign, showing the Arkansas Governor with a 42-30 lead over Bush (it was tied at 30 for all three entering July). And then came the long-term benefit: a bus trip through the Rust Belt designed to ride the momentum to election. It succeeded far beyond the Clinton campaign's wildest dreams, even praised by Republican consultant Charlie Black as a "master stroke." By the time it was over, Bill Clinton was an incredible 24 points ahead of Bush, the largest lead of any Democratic candidate in a Presidential elections since Carter's 33-point lead over President Ford in 1976.
With Perot gone and Clinton roaring into the lead, the scrutiny now focused on President Bush and one particular question: should he dump Dan Quayle as his running mate for the fall election?




