By Jim Geraghty
Wednesday, November 15, 2017
In April, the historical drama Chappaquiddick will arrive in theaters. Variety declared the film “a tense, scrupulous, absorbingly precise
and authentic piece of history — a tabloid scandal attached to a
smoke-filled-room travesty.”
The reviewer, Owen Gleiberman, suggested that the film
could spur a dramatic reevaluation of the Liberal Lion of the Senate:
Ted Kennedy should, by all rights,
have stood trial for involuntary manslaughter, which would likely have ended his
political career. The fact that the Kennedy family — the original postwar
dynasty of the one percent — possessed, and exerted, the influence to squash
the case is the essence of what Chappaquiddick means. The Kennedys lived
outside the law . . . those are the facts, and they are facts that liberals,
too often, have been willing to shove under the carpet.
If you’re a Kennedy critic, or just fume at a famous
senator enjoying the sort of legal unaccountability usually reserved for
Heisman Trophy–winning USC running backs, this film will constitute a form of
justice, correcting the record and tearing down the mythical façade. But it’s a
rather convenient one for Ted Kennedy, as he died in 2009. Considering the
ongoing reverence for the Kennedy family in so many powerful circles in this
country, Chappaquiddick is a brave
film. But it would have been much braver — perhaps impossible to make — a
decade ago.
If the spring brings a reevaluation of Ted Kennedy, it
will probably come on the heels of a sudden and dramatic reevaluation of Bill
Clinton as a consequence of the explosion of sexual-harassment and assault
allegations in the wake of the Harvey Weinstein scandal. New York Times opinion columnist Michelle Goldberg wrote Tuesday:
Of the Clinton accusers, the one
who haunts me is [Juanita] Broaddrick. The story she tells about Clinton
recalls those we’ve heard about Weinstein. She claimed they had plans to meet
in a hotel coffee shop, but at the last minute he asked to come up to her hotel
room instead, where he raped her. Five witnesses said she confided in them
about the assault right after it happened. It’s true that she denied the rape
in an affidavit to Paula Jones’s lawyers, before changing her story when
talking to federal investigators. But her explanation, that she didn’t want to
go public but couldn’t lie to the F.B.I., makes sense. Put simply, I believe
her.
A New York Times
columnist declaring in print that she believes the 42nd president of the United
States is a rapist ought to make people stop and think. But since we’re seeing
a tide of slime from predatory men gradually oozing out of Hollywood studios,
television networks, and state capitals, it seems fair to ask whether Clinton’s
experience left many powerful and abusive men convinced that they could escape
serious consequence.
Another New York
Times columnist, David Brooks, asked a question on Charlie Rose a week ago that should leave Democrats awake at night:
“How much did tolerance of Bill Clinton create the environment in which the
rest of this was given permission?”
The United States had seen infamous and widely covered
allegations of sexual harassment before, most notably in the confirmation
hearing of Supreme Court justice Clarence Thomas and the forced resignation of
Oregon GOP senator Bob Packwood. But in January 1998, the Monica Lewinsky
scandal set off a year-long national discussion, one that occasionally noted
the mounting pile of accusations of sexual misconduct: Juanita Broaddrick,
Kathleen Willey, and Paula Jones. The Clinton machine smeared the women
viciously, with James Carville nastily declaring, “Drag a hundred-dollar bill
through a trailer park and you never know what you’ll find.”
It’s worth remembering the infamous
Clinton-finger-wagging moment, when he addressed a skeptical nation and
vehemently denied the nature of his encounters with Lewinsky: “I did not . . .
have . . . sexual . . . relations with that woman . . . Miss Lewinsky, and I
never told anybody to lie.” He did so because in January 1998, admitting to
even a consensual relationship with 22-year-old White House intern would have
spurred bipartisan demands for his resignation. There was a time when there was
a broad cultural consensus that a man in a powerful position is not supposed to
look upon his female subordinates as a potential harem. And if Clinton saw
Lewinsky as a sexual plaything in the workplace, it’s plausible he could have
been less concerned about consent from other women in earlier years.
A few days ago, Matt Yglesias of Vox articulated what was heresy on the Left during those years: “I
wonder how much healthier a place we’d be in as a society today if Bill Clinton
had resigned in shame back in 1998.”
(One of the great ironies is that if Clinton had resigned
and Al Gore had become president, Gore probably would’ve had a greater
advantage in the 2000 election. Gore reportedly confronted Clinton forcefully
after the 2000 recount and blamed Clinton for his defeat.)
Was Bill Clinton a role model for how men can indulge
their worst impulses and get away with it? Since the 1990s, how many men in
powerful positions have seen Bill Clinton in that light? After all, all sorts
of powerful people — from prominent feminists to powerful lawyers to the
leaders of Clinton’s party — came to the consensus that the whole Lewinsky mess
was a “private matter.” Perhaps the affair with her was — although Americans
are right to expect better from a president — but the claims of Jones, Willey,
and Broaddrick were not private matters in the slightest.
After the Harvey Weinstein scandal broke, Lee Smith,
writing in The Weekly Standard, asked
a difficult question that few Democrats will really want to confront. Would the
enormously consequential New York Times
article detailing the accusations about the Hollywood producer have been
published if the 2016 election had ended differently and Weinstein had the
president of the United States on speed-dial?
The court over which Bill Clinton
once presided, a court in which Weinstein was one part jester, one part
exchequer, and one part executioner, no longer exists. . . . If the story was
published during the course of a Hillary Clinton presidency, it wouldn’t have
really been about Harvey Weinstein. Harvey would have been seen as a proxy for
the president’s husband and it would have embarrassed the president, the first
female president.
We’ll never know how events would have played out in that
alternative reality. Considering Weinstein’s far-reaching and ferocious efforts
to discourage reporting about his abuses, it’s easy to believe that he would
seek out assistance from the Clintons as the Times reporters closed in.
Right now, we are indeed having a reckoning about a
longtime blind eye to powerful men abusing women, but it’s occurring on the
most convenient terms for the Democratic party — when Kennedy is dead, Bill
Clinton is retired and fading into memory, Hillary’s prospects are done, and
her closest network of supporters now largely live on the ash heap of American
political history. Funny how all of this worked out so conveniently for the
party.
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