Hillary’s ruthless streak

Let us now praise ruthless men. And women. The two most talked-about potential presidential candidates in 2016 are enduring public examinations of their ruthlessness. In New Jersey federal investigators, the legislature and the press are looking at whether Gov. Chris Christie knew aides in his office sought to punish a local official for not supporting their boss by closing portions of the George Washington Bridge. At the same time, Hillary Clinton is going through one of the periodic public checkups she has enjoyed since emerging on the national stage in 1992. A new book, “HRC,” describes a carefully tended Clinton enemies list where the couple kept track of those who had abandoned or betrayed them. The private diaries of a close confidante, first reported on by the Washington Free Beacon, describe first lady Hillary Clinton’s desire to punish everyone from anonymous leakers to an Arkansas publisher during her husband’s presidency.

Partisans react to these developments predictably; your opponent’s penchant for ruthlessness is a sign of his or her low character. That’s wrong. Ruthlessness is a necessary political skill, particularly for presidents. The task is to make an assessment about whether a particular politician uses it effectively or not. There are limits to ruthlessness – abuse of power and crippling vindictiveness – but we shouldn’t mistake signs of the trait as necessary proof a politician is locked into its excesses.

Politics is a profession so clouded with self-love, self-dealing and greed that in some cases the only way you can make progress is if you use a pickax. That means knowing how to use intimidation and retribution – and recognizing that every tool of the office can be a weapon if you hold it right. In presidential campaigns some voters are uncomfortable with politicians who show an aptitude for arm-twisting. That, in turn, leads to a lot of wasted time as politicians pretend that they are not skilled in the activities required for the job that they’re trying so hard to get. It gets circular fast: You deceive to prove that you are not deceptive.

Democratic strategist James Carville once famously compared Hillary Clinton with President Barack Obama by suggesting the former first lady had more guts than the president, though Carville referred to a part of the anatomy physiologically unavailable to a female candidate. Reading Diane Blair’s journals, you see what Carville was talking about. “HC still in despair that nobody in WH tough and mean enough,” writes the political science professor, a longtime Arkansas friend of the Clintons, who died in 2000 and whose papers were donated to the University of Arkansas. “Most people in this town have no pain threshold,” she quotes Clinton as saying in another entry. When something is blocked in the White House, “HC urging hard ball.” Hillary Clinton spends the weekend reorganizing the White House, planning firings and punishing leakers, but Blair says it ultimately frustrates the first lady because her husband won’t pull the trigger.

These are stories about events more than 20 years ago, but they read with potency because they offer an intimate portrait of a figure who has worked hard to shield herself from penetrating insights.

As first lady, Clinton was a “pioneer in an anachronistic role,” as Blair put it. More than 20 years later, Clinton may still have less room to appear tough than a male candidate. But the question about Clinton’s toughness isn’t limited to public perceptions about it. Now the question is, when does ruthlessness cross the line beyond its utilitarian benefits and into something more damaging?

Presidents need to be self-confident but not arrogant, focused but not living in a bubble, wise but not too professorial, a leader but not a tyrant. The Christie and Clinton stories offer us an opportunity to examine where ruthlessness should begin and end in the most powerful office in the land.

In New Jersey the ruthlessness of the Christie operation bled over into its abuse of power, but so far there is no connection between Christie and his aides. In the Blair documents, Clinton is ruthless in conversation in a way that we never have seen with Christie. It’s gripping reading, but it’s more figurative than real; Clinton couldn’t abuse power because as first lady she had none.

Furthermore, the machismo displayed in private conversations with a friend requires a caveat. It’s possible that Clinton, powerless and under siege, talked tougher on the phone precisely because she couldn’t follow through in real life.

Abuse of power is not the only downside of ruthlessness. The danger is that it can lead to an all-consuming vindictiveness. Before Richard Nixon graduated to abusing power, he was consumed with his political enemies.

So if the question for Christie is whether the culture of easy retribution fostered the excesses of the George Washington Bridge scandal, the question for Clinton is whether the constant attention to allies and enemies can ever become an overwhelming distraction.