Shadows from the past

WASHINGTON is en fete this weekend preparing for the second inauguration of William Jefferson Clinton. But earlier this week two figures emerged from his first term to cast shadows over what should be a glittering celebration of Clinton's resurrection from his disastrous situation of two years ago.

Political guru Dick Morris has surfaced from disgrace to publish his account of how he brought Clinton back from the threatened oblivion of the 1994 Republican landslide. And Paula Jones had her day in the Supreme Court to argue through her lawyers why her accusation of sexual misconduct against the president should go ahead even while he is in the White House.

While the Supreme Court judges only heard dry legal arguments about the constitutional position of sitting presidents facing civil actions, virtually every newspaper and radio and TV chat show picked over the sordid details of Ms Jones's allegations. It must have been a nightmare for Clinton, his wife Hillary and their daughter Chelsea to have the Jones testimony of alleged presidential exposure and "distinguishing marks" aired nationwide as they prepared for Monday's swearing-in on the steps of the Capitol, the inauguration balls and the parties.

And Dick Morris, instead of sharing the president's triumph, surveys a broken marriage, personal disgrace over his affair with a call girl and an uncertain professional future. The $2.5 million advance on his book, Behind The Oval Office is, of course, some consolation.

Having battled successfully against his powerful enemies in the White House to become the president's political strategist and confidant, how could Morris have brought on his own destruction just as he was ensuring the survival of the president?

He cannot bring himself to mention Sherry Rowlands by name and refers to her as the "prostitute". He felt "omnipotent" the night in June 1995 when Clinton got back on his "true course by following Morris's advice on balancing the budget. But with his "bloated ego needs" came his "downfall" as Ms Rowlands answered his call.

He could not cope with the "inevitable periods of solitude" which working in Washington entailed. "So I sought out, through the most dishonourable kind of relationship, someone to spend the night with me. Foolishly, I trusted this woman and even deluded myself to the point of thinking of her as a friend, though like all men who have paid for sex, I am guilty of exploiting the woman involved."

Having got his mea culpa off his chest in the early pages, Morris goes on to give a fascinating if self-promoting account of working for Clinton.

His project had the approval of the president. "I know we both have a duty to history to talk about this relationship," Clinton told him just 10 days before Morris had to resign. "It's very likely unique in American history for a relationship like this to exist.

Much of the book is a detailed account of how Morris persuaded Clinton to "move to the centre" after the Republicans took control of the House and Senate in 1992 and Clinton was written off as a lame duck doomed to lose in 1996. But the most fascinating parts are the glimpses of Bill and Hillary Clinton as they struggled behind the walls of the White House to survive.

Morris often experienced the Clinton temper and the cold anger of Hillary when he was blamed for indiscretions. "Clinton has a terrible temper. That's the bad news. He gets over it very quickly. That's the better news."

One time Morris himself lost his temper out of frustration and shouted so loudly that Vice-President Gore motioned to him to lower his voice and Clinton warned that "if I talked any louder, the Secret Service agents would think I was killing him, and they'd come in with their guns".

Morris tries to face up to the contradiction between his dalliance with a prostitute while at the same time urging Clinton to preach family values. "We all have our personal demons. But we need not let our struggles with them prevent us from doing whatever goods we can manage to do in the larger scope of our lives," Morris explains.

WITH Hillary Clinton, Morris has usually had a good relationship but he had a "disastrous break" with her in January 1995 over information he gave to David Maraniss, the author of a biography of her husband. "Hillary is usually a very, very warm person. She is loving and caring, quite the opposite of her sometimes strident public image.

"But when Hillary is stung, she reacts viscerally and closes up. After the Maraniss incident she ostracised me. There is no colder feeling on the planet.

The Maraniss book greatly angered Clinton himself over passages where it was suggested that he used state troopers to solicit women for him when he was governor of Arkansas. "How is my daughter going to feel when she reads these lies, this horseshit?" he screamed at Morris over the telephone.

"Clinton's major concern was about how the book would hurt Hillary and Chelsea . . . When he realised that there was really little he could do to shield them, he became very angry. His face became raw, red and angry as he railed against the injustice and the violation. He wouldn't stop. On and on he would talk into the night, pounding his fist, elaborating his resentment, voicing his anger."

Chelsea, Morris says, is "as unaffected by her parents' status as it is possible for a president's daughter to be. She has a clear sense of herself, of who she is, and she marches to her own beat."

For virtually her whole life she has been either a governor's or a president's daughter, "yet there is no trace of conceit, arrogance, or class consciousness about her. She knows that her status is temporary and that it is based on her parents' achievements not hers. As a teenager she is good-natured, smart and mannerly."

Clinton was not too appreciative of Morris's efforts to "keep him away from Hollywood and the jet set". But the polls which were so vital to their strategy to ensure his re-election had shown that "camping out was a favourite for swing voters".

Morris urged that Clinton take a mountain vacation, that he hike and camp out in a tent. Clinton sarcastically asked would it be okay if he golfed in a baseball cap as baseball fans were also swing voters.

He did go camping but asked Morris: "What if I hike, set up my campsite and go fishing but I don't catch anything. Will that be OK?"

There were tender moments between them as well. Once Morris was typing a draft of the 1995 State of the Union address while the president looked over his shoulder. "I turned fully around to look up at him, way up, and said, `Mr President, you know, I've dreamed of doing exactly this in exactly this way ever since I was eight years old'.

"He replied, `So did I' and left the room."

Contrary to the belief that Clinton is like Margaret Thatcher and needs very little sleep, Morris says that "he requires a great deal of rest to function coherently". After trips to the West Coast or overseas, three or four days would pass before he performed at his best.

"I estimate that during the period I worked closely with the president, he was exhausted, seriously depleted and sometimes even ill about one quarter of the time."