In October 2006, shortly before the midterm elections, John Kerry flubbed a joke by one word. He was insulting the president, but by inadvertently omitting the word “us,” Kerry was accused of insulting U.S. troops. A mind-numbing, inexplicable media firestorm erupted.
It’s never been entirely clear to me why, though it probably had something to do with Karl Rove and Republican attack dogs having decided a) Kerry’s verbal gaffe was the single most important issue on the political landscape; b) they didn’t want to talk about anything substantive; and c) if news outlets failed to give this wall-to-wall coverage, they were “liberal.” The media had its marching orders, and journalists followed them.
A few days later, Thomas Friedman had a piece that was, to my mind, one of his all-time best. In it, Friedman argued that the Bush gang, as evidenced by its emphasis of Kerry’s flubbed joke, “thinks you’re stupid.”
Everyone says that Karl Rove is a genius. Yeah, right. So are cigarette companies. They get you to buy cigarettes even though we know they cause cancer. That is the kind of genius Karl Rove is. He is not a man who has designed a strategy to reunite our country around an agenda of renewal for the 21st century — to bring out the best in us. His “genius” is taking some irrelevant aside by John Kerry and twisting it to bring out the worst in us, so you will ignore the mess that the Bush team has visited on this country.
And Karl Rove has succeeded at that in the past because he was sure that he could sell just enough Bush cigarettes, even though people knew they caused cancer.
Now, as it turned out, Rove & Co. were wrong, and no one outside the right-wing GOP base and political media establishment actually cared about Kerry’s flubbed joke. The media firestorm served no purpose other than to waste airtime and ignore issues that mattered.
Two years later, Rove is now a major media figure, but his acolytes are running the next Republican presidential campaign, and following Rove’s playbook exactly. And true to form, news outlets are scooping up what Rove’s team is shoveling.
In this sense, John McCain isn’t running for Bush’s third term, he’s running for Rove’s third term.
Paul Krugman explains.
Al Gore never claimed that he invented the Internet. Howard Dean didn’t scream. Hillary Clinton didn’t say she was staying in the race because Barack Obama might be assassinated. And Wesley Clark didn’t impugn John McCain’s military service.
Scott McClellan, the former White House press secretary, titled his tell-all memoir “What Happened.” But a true account of modern American politics should be titled “What Didn’t Happen.” Again and again we’ve had media firestorms over supposedly revealing incidents that never actually took place.
The latest fake scandal fit the usual pattern as an awkwardly phrased remark, lifted out of context and willfully misinterpreted, exploded across the airwaves.
What General Clark actually said was that Mr. McCain’s war service, though heroic, didn’t necessarily constitute a qualification for the presidency. It was a blunt but truthful remark, and not at all outrageous — especially given the fact that General Clark is himself a bona fide war hero.
Yet the Clark affair did reveal something important — not about General Clark, but about Mr. McCain. Now we know what a McCain administration would represent: namely, a third term for Karl Rove.
It’s certainly not Krugman’s fault that his deadline was probably mid-day yesterday, but the “latest fake scandal” actually happened shortly after he submitted his column, when the McCain campaign and the political media establishment decided that Barack Obama had changed his Iraq policy, reality notwithstanding.
What’s interesting, of course, are the similarities. Republicans/reporters twisted Clark’s words, and manufactured a huge story out of thin air. Soon after, Republicans/reporters twisted Obama’s words, and manufactured a huge story out of thin air. The facts were readily available to anyone who cared to notice, so Republicans/reporters decided to look the other way.
In both instances, there was a real story to cover. In Clark’s case, maybe reporters could have taken a moment to consider the substance of whether McCain’s military service during Vietnam makes him qualified to be president now. In Obama’s case, maybe news outlets could use this opportunity to let voters know the practical, fundamental differences between Obama’s and McCain’s Iraq policies.
But, no. A Rovian style of politics is geared towards eliminating the substance, which is just the way major news outlets like it. The feeding frenzy is easier than actual journalism anyway.
Krugman concluded, “[M]y sense, though it’s hard to prove, is that the press is feeling a bit ashamed about the way it piled on General Clark. If so, news organizations may think twice before buying into the next fake scandal.”
And within hours of Krugman turning in his column, the press that should have been ashamed started the whole thing over again, highlighting Obama’s Iraq policy, and pointing to an inconsistency that doesn’t exist.
McCain and his campaign, in other words, are following Rovian politics to a T, and as of now, it’s working.