The Political Redemption of George H.W. Bush

DESPERATION

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"It's not good..."

Mary Matalin plopped down next to the President and handed him over a stack of papers mostly compiled of polls the campaign had run the night before. The results were devastating - if the election were held that day, it's likely Bush would have lost in a fifty-state landslide. His opponent Bill Clinton, a once little known governor from a little known state, had surged 30 points overnight after accepting the Democratic Nomination.

"These numbers ... they'll go down. This bump won't last. We'll be fine - we'll be fine when we have our own convention," the President said in a desperate, forced reassurance. It was clear he, nor the campaign, believed any of it, but what else could be said ... what else could be done? President Bush, who a year ago had an approval rating above 80%, now found himself staring down the stark possibility of not only losing, but losing in a lopsided fashion rarely reserved for incumbents.

Bush's hope was that he could actually do what he tried to convey to his staff - namely rebuild his campaign at the convention and take down a popular, charismatic governor who was soundly beating him across the board. But even then, Bush knew it would take a stroke of luck to defeat Clinton. Grit and determination worked in movies, but rarely in real life. This wasn't solely about convincing the American people Clinton was an untested governor of a small state - a draft dodger whose foreign policy experience could be summed up by a collection of world atlases he had lying around his office in Little Rock. Americans knew that and they didn't care. Something else was going to have to happen for Bush to fight back and it wasn't just going to be a convention.

A few years prior to the campaign, long before Lee Atwater became sick and eventually died, he confided in many White House staffers that the one candidate they should fear was Bill Clinton. No one took him too seriously because, after all, Clinton's debut at the 1988 Democratic Convention was as flat as a day old Coke. This election was also going to be about foreign policy and there, the White House often joked, Clinton was a typical Democratic lightweight and all the southern charm in the world wasn't going to change that.

This was the Bush campaign's first mistake - assuming the election would be about foreign policy ... Iraq and the fall of the Berlin Wall. If Atwater had been alive by the time the President began his reelection campaign, he would have told Bush that the economy would creep its way into the political discourse and that the campaign would certainly be at a disadvantage running against a candidate like Clinton. Yes, foreign policy was the President's strength, but with an impending recession - would it matter?

Clinton, though, was fiery. He wasn't a typical Democrat. He spoke of a new way - a Third Way of politics. It wasn't just talk, either, as his policies were defined by centrism - from his proposal to reform welfare, to his support of the death penalty. Clinton was not Mike Dukakis, who the Bush campaign could paint as soft on crime and scare middle of the road voters from Middle America into shifting their support.

Sure, there were stories about Clinton and the possibility of infidelity and a false report earlier in the primary season that someone close to the Governor was ready to go public with allegations of an affair. But campaigns are always filled with those uncertain, unproven stories that float around the inner-circles and amount to very little. The story never stuck and the allegations just remained rumors for months.

It didn't hurt Clinton's standing and the mainstream media did little to report on it, no matter how many calls the Bush campaign placed and how much digging they found themselves doing.

The polls Mary Matalin presented the President were vomit-inducing for any campaign staffer. Americans didn't trust George H.W. Bush, especially after he went back on his own tax pledge from four years prior. Worse, they trusted Bill Clinton. Clinton wasn't bogged down by scandal or broken promises. The whisper campaigns heard on the campaign trail did little to damage his overall support and in the head-to-head, he had opened up nearly a thirty-point lead - which seemed downright inconceivable to the staffers as they pored over the polling data.

Clinton had been aided by a quick primary that saw him surge to a surprising victory in New Hampshire over Paul Tsongas and easier than expected wins over Jerry Brown in later states. Though Brown tried to flank himself to Clinton's left, in the end, the momentum Clinton gained out of his New Hampshire victory was too much for Brown to overcome and, after a disappointing finish in the Connecticut primary, Brown eventually dropped out well before his California firewall.

That allowed Clinton the opportunity to campaign for the general election long before most expected when the primary season kicked off in January. Without an opponent from the left, Clinton could shore up his support in the middle and even though Ross Perot and the President remained ahead of him in the polls, the margins narrowed to the point where most in the media considered any lead insignificant.

By the time the Democrats met in New York, and Clinton had asked Tennessee Senator Al Gore to run with him, the Governor had already opened up a considerably strong lead, and it only ballooned after the convention - especially when independent candidate Ross Perot announced he was ending his campaign. That's where Mary Matalin and the Bush Team found themselves. What was once a race within striking distance, the President was now on the verge of being lapped by his opponent.

It wasn't good and deep down, even President Bush knew it.
 
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Absolutely not. I'm still excited about continuing that one but needed to try my hand at something else so that I didn't get bored with that timeline, you know?

I expect to update that one later this week.
 
Absolutely not. I'm still excited about continuing that one but needed to try my hand at something else so that I didn't get bored with that timeline, you know?

I expect to update that one later this week.

Good to hear.

This is a good start. Subscribed.
 
Absolutely not. I'm still excited about continuing that one but needed to try my hand at something else so that I didn't get bored with that timeline, you know?

I expect to update that one later this week.

That makes, I'll be interested in seeing where this one goes as well.
 
A POTENTIAL CHANGE

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"I can step down, Mr. President."

Dan Quayle knew he was a drag on the ticket, even though President Bush did his best to reassure his often bewildered running mate. He was the constant butt of late-night humor and viewed by most of the public as an intellectual neophyte who created far more buzz for his misspeaks and embarrassing gaffes than anything he did in his role as Vice President.

Quayle, though, remained humble. He knew his limitations and understood the political game better than most expected and because of that, even though it pained him to consider, he knew the campaign might be best with a fresh start - a running mate who was stronger and better receptive than Quayle had been his four years in the national spotlight.

He was still trying to get over misspelling potato and, in the spring of 1992, found himself in a political spat with the fictional Murphy Brown. Quayle had accused the character, played by actress Candice Bergen, of hurting the family structure by portraying a single mother giving birth out of wedlock in positive light. The whole experience was lampooned on an episode of Murphy Brown and once again left the campaign in negative light at a crucial point in the election.

While Bush was at the top of the ticket and this election was certainly a referendum on his policies, and not that of Dan Quayle, campaign momentum was key, especially in the final months of the race and there, the Bush Campaign was struggling. They couldn't find positive momentum and now they found themselves down big in the polls.

Quayle wasn't the first to mention the possibility of Bush picking another running mate. It was an idea floated by many high-ranking members of the campaign and the general consensus was that a change could reinvigorate the campaign - give it a new start heading into the final months.

And a change wouldn't be unprecedented. FDR had dropped two vice presidents during key elections and managed to do all right.

Of course, President Bush was no Franklin Roosevelt and as the idea was presented to the candidate himself, it became clear that wasn't really the direction he wanted to take the campaign.

"I like Dan. I've worked well with him these past four years. He's a good, honest man and I don't think I can do that to him," the President said in a calm, but defiant voice. He followed, "Plus, it would make us look desperate - it would make us look like we don't know what we're doing."

But they were desperate, Mary Matalin reminded the President. Desperate times call for desperate measures and they weren't going to win this election by keeping the status quo.

That's when the President stood up and walked over to the Oval Office windows and looked out toward the White House's South Lawn. He put his hands in his pocket, the sun shining just enough to illuminate his aging face, and with a sigh laid out the campaign's cold reality.

"I'm going to lose. Unless something happens that I have absolutely no control over, I will not win this election. Dumping Quayle, bringing on board someone else is not going to change any of that. That doesn't mean I won't continue the fight, but I've got to be realistic about this - we are losing and we are losing badly. So, am I going to be the candidate who lost with dignity or am I going to be the candidate who loses in disgrace? That's what I am facing right now and I can't in good faith ask Quayle to not run with me again. I picked him because I felt he was the right man for the job and I still believe that. We're going to lose - but we're going to lose on my terms. Not yours."

Mary Matalin hated hearing the President talk like that, but she also knew he was probably right. No matter what they did, how they reacted, the campaign just couldn't gain traction over Bill Clinton. Still, it was only July and there was still the Republican Convention - that was their chance to get back into this and Matalin made sure the President understood that.

"Mr. President, with all due respect, it's only the top of the fifth. We've still got a few at bats."

President Bush turned back to her, smiled, and nodded. It wasn't necessarily about conceding defeat, but more about being loyal and when Matalin understood that, realized that, she gained a new found respect for the man she had a difficult time understanding all these months.

Quayle would remain and the Bush campaign would reset itself in hopes of turning things around at the Republican Convention. Keeping Quayle turned out to be a far less complicated decision than anyone would have thought. Now they just hoped it proved to be the right one.
 
I really like the personalized touch your giving this, it is much easier to sympathize and root for Bush the man than Bush the political characature.
 
THE REPUBLICAN NATIONAL CONVENTION, NIGHT 1

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"He can't read this..."

Standing in a hallway deep beneath the bowels of the Astrodome, George W. Bush, the President's son and an important figure in his reelection campaign, read over the speech Pat Buchanan was set to deliver to convention goers the first night of the event. It was a strong rebuke of liberalism and its perceived attack on cultural values. The speech read divisively and was not the tone the President wanted to send thirty-points down in the polls.

"It's not acceptable. Tell Pat he's going to have to redraft the speech or give up his spot tonight." the President's son said to an angered aide.

The Bush campaign knew how integral Buchanan was to the convention. After all, he did give the President a bruising primary fight and left the campaign reeling as they tried to bring cultural conservatives back into the fold. However, Buchanan had a penchant for saying things that were controversial and the last thing the President wanted was the American people to be scared off by a message of exclusiveness and division.

Buchanan's speech was definitely not the message the campaign wanted to send and even though they knew there was a possibility of Buchanan pulling out of the convention, it was a calculated risk knowing that, in the end, this race could still come down to the middle voters who had warmed up to Clinton considerably since the Democratic Convention.

At the President's hotel room, where he and his campaign staff prepared to watch the first night of the convention, he received an angry phone call from an irate Buchanan who threatened to not only pull out of the convention altogether, but pull his endorsement of the President.

"Look, George, I'm not even going to get into the fact you sent your boy after me instead of doing it yourself - but this speech is not going be rewritten. I have words to say and I'm going to say 'em."

The President was none too pleased with Buchanan's tone and quickly shot back, "With all due respect, Pat - it's President Bush ... not George. And this is my convention, not yours. Now you're free to not speak tonight, but I hope you'll reconsider. Not just for your sake, or mine, but the party's. I want an inclusive message, Pat, and your speech does not convey this."

The other end of the phone was silent before Buchanan came back, a bit more cautious, and embarrassed. "I apologize, Mr. President. We'll draft a new speech and I'll send it to you before I go on tonight."

Buchanan had been dressed down in a very polite way and it showed with his abrupt change of heart. He wasn't going to disrespect a sitting president, especially after he spent his career working for Richard Nixon, Gerald Ford and Ronald Reagan. Even though he didn't necessarily agree with George Bush, and had issues with his concessions as President, he realized Bush was the head of the party and as President, deserved a great deal more respect than he probably would have given a governor or senator in a similar position.

So, Buchanan sucked it up and, with only hours to spare, rewrote his speech in a more moderate, respectful tone. The final draft was approved by Bush Jr., and the President nervously eased in to watch him deliver the speech in front of a frenzied Houston crowd.

The speech itself was unmemorable and quite unremarkable. It hit a conciliatory tone and Buchanan made it clear he supported the President. But there was hardly any explosive applause lines and it certainly wasn't going to be a speech quoted for years to come. But the President was fine with that. He didn't want Buchanan overshadowing him at the convention and the night was more remembered for President Reagan's strong and emotional speech and less for what could have been very controversial.

To be sure, not everyone agreed with the decision. Many in the Bush campaign, including Mary Matalin, felt the President should jump further to the right because the base had become sorely disenchanted with the President. But he felt, even if it was a bit naive of him, that this election wasn't necessarily going to be won on the extremes and instead, in the middle, especially with Governor Clinton positioning himself as the mainstream moderate in the race.

The President was also uneasy with the rhetoric from the right. A moderate for most his political career, he was never comfortable with the right-wing lurch of his party. Buchanan, who in many instances was even to the right of Ronald Reagan, found himself the voice of a base that felt isolated and neglected by President Bush. Still, he felt, in the end, those voters would come around and at the closing of the first day, it became apparent that's exactly what their campaign was banking on - as the message from the convention was peppered with civilized rhetoric with only a small biting punch.
 
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Hmm. Could Bush pull it off if Pat's speech isn't the "culture war" one? IOTL, that turned off moderates big time.
 
Cool. Bush I is one of my favorite presidents for reasons I'm not all too sure about. Cool to see him get a chance at a second term.
 
THE SPEECH OF HIS LIFE

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"We've got to nail this!"

The President sat on a couch in his hotel intensely reading over the speech he was about to deliver to the convention hall. Trailing in the polls and down to only months, President Bush knew this speech would make or break his reelection chances. If he was going to seize control of this race and win this election, it had to happen on that pulpit. Anything less than a spectacular speech would probably doom him to defeat. His presidency, his future, his legacy, it all leaned on this speech.

President Bush had been here before, though, and his campaign was quick to remind him of it. Just four years ago, counted out after trailing Michael Dukakis in the polls, Bush gave the speech of his career and revived his presidential campaign. Unfortunately, it was that speech, and his pledge to not raise taxes, that haunted him throughout this campaign. He could not shake those six words and it defined his primary battle with Pat Buchanan and it was defining his reelection chances against Bill Clinton. It was certainly a cloud hanging over the convention and somehow, some way, Bush was going to have to break through and earn the American people's trust again.

The initial draft of his speech, which he was going over, relied heavily on the President's foreign policy successes. While he wanted to play up his leadership internationally, he knew this election was not going to hinge on it. For the first time in a generation, an election was not going to be decided by a foreign fight or cold war - it was going to be solely decided by domestic issues. There, the President's team felt he was at his weakest. In the initial draft of the speech, they only mentioned the economy five times ... and only once did they lay out a plan to bring the nation back from the brink. If this election was going to be about the economy, President Bush said privately, he was going to have to take the fight to Clinton if he had any chance of winning.

His campaign disagreed. Mary Matalin implored that every soundbite about the economy was a loss ... we needed more. She always advocated tearing down President Clinton's personal life ... hitting him on his draft dodging, attacking his character. But the President didn't want to make this a character debate because he felt, in the end, it would backfire. If they were going to win, they would have to win by adjusting the narrative - presenting a true case to the American people why they needed to reelect him. He said, adamantly, "We're not going to convince Americans to vote for me because the other guy is bad."

So, after reading over the speech, the President decided he wanted to revise it and talk heavily about the nation's problems - especially the economy. He felt the only chance they had was by presenting the American people their plan to get things working again and then turning the tables and attacking the Democratic economic record - potentially laying the foundation so they could blame the liberal Congress for the economic downturn.

It was a large task, and it might not work, but the President knew this election was on the verge of being lost for good. The status quo, what they had been doing the last few months, was just not going to work and they needed to shake things up. So, invigorated, President Bush decided to go on the offense and though it was a risk, positioned himself to give the speech of his life.

Sweaty, and nervous, the President waited backstage for his cue. This was it, he realized, the moment of his presidency - of his life. As he paced in the halls of the Astrodome, President Bush awkwardly practiced the hand motions he would give during his speech. He didn't want to be too stiff or too animated ... it was about being just right. Then, just as the nerves set in further, a stagehand approached the President and told him it was time.

Slowly, and a little less confident than he would like, the President emerged onto the stage to thousands of screaming fans, many of whom were chanting 'Four More Years!'.

As he reached the podium, he let out an easy smile and felt, for the first time in hours, comfortable. He was in his element. At that moment, looking out over the crowd of red, white and blue, seeing the waving flags and signs, President Bush felt confident and composed. He then delivered the speech with a convincing and strong tone. His words were bold and tough. He portrayed himself as a fighter - not just personally, but for the American people. His best, though, was reserved for the closing.

He spoke of hope and trust and fight. His words were lasting and the narrative quickly set in that the President had delivered a strong, emotional speech. "It was his best yet..." claimed Dan Rather, who anchored the final night of the Republican Convention. The press was impressed, just as they had been four years ago.

But of course, it was just one speech and it was unclear if it would be enough to pull him out of the tailspin he appeared to be in at the moment. The campaign was hopeful, at least, they could gain some traction on Clinton with this speech, however, conceded the possibility nothing would come of it.

In the end, as President Bush left the stage with his family and his Vice President's family, the campaign felt it had done its best to reset the message. Now they just had to wait for the polls to prove it.
 
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