Bill's best laid plans

Hanging beside the doorway of one of Oxford's dining halls is a portrait of Bill Clinton. He was a Rhodes scholar here before he moved on to Yale Law and, eventually, the Oval Office. It's a tradition at Oxford to immortalize the university's eminent alumni this way, to pay tribute to their achievements and contributions to the world. But among such figures as John Locke, Samuel Johnson and C.S. Lewis -- men with distinct, tangible accomplishments -- the portrait of William Jefferson Clinton hangs uncomfortably. For although Clinton is the most powerful man in the world and deserves having his portrait displayed, one would be hard pressed to articulate his defining achievements -- the deeds by which posterity will remember him. Every great president has left behind a clear legacy. But after eight years, with his successor being chosen in eight days, Clinton's administration leaves us at a loss for words. The Clinton era has been one of promising starts and deflating stops. His will be a legacy of mixed results. But it is not for a lack of trying. Clinton came roaring out of the box in 1993, declaring in his inaugural State of the Union address that America "need[ed] a new direction" -- and that he was the man to provide it. In the following years, he bravely set lofty goals on a wide range of issues, goals that seemed to challenge the country. But that vision became blurry as time wore on and proposals that seemed destined to distinguish his career either faded into the background or fell flat on their faces. Clinton never did put Social Security on firm ground, his urgency on the issue falling off sharply ever since he proposed to devote 100 percent of the budget surplus to it in 1998. That money never made it to the Social Security coffers, and the problem remains for the next president to solve. The hope he brought to health-care reform did not pan out. The proposal from a committee headed by his wife died in Congress and was never resurrected, leaving 45 million Americans uninsured today, more than in 1993. The man who wanted to "begin a national dialogue on race" has let the conversation fall silent. Clinton wanted to "reduce the power of special interests and increase the participation of the people" in government. But he never did get around to reforming campaign finance and sabotaged any leverage he had on the issue with his own dalliances. In the foreign policy sphere, his efforts on behalf of Mideast peace are praiseworthy, but the progress he charted is dissolving as we speak. The promise at the start of Camp David earlier this year, with all its smiles and handshakes, is now replaced by chaos and gunfire. Even Clinton's achievements are followed by heavy shadows. Though he balanced the budget sooner than expected, it came on the wings of significant tax increases. NAFTA's passage should be applauded, but the agreement leaves much to be desired in the way of labor regulation on both sides of the border. As for our unprecedented economic expansion, more credit is due to the advancement of technology, Americans' working longer hours and an upward swing in the economic cycle that began before Clinton entered office. It's worth noting that the last period of similar peacetime growth was during the Roaring Twenties. The president then, the uninspiring Calvin Coolidge, is praised less for fostering the economy than for simply staying out of its way. Unfortunately, what Clinton will be remembered for is the animosity he engendered in his opponents and the constant controversy that ensued -- what, in retrospect, may have crippled his administration. All the sex, all the lying and the wild independent counsel goose chases diverted Clinton's attentions away from governing and toward a public relations game of damage control. Though certainly not all his fault, he must take blame for a lack of self-control that opened the floodgates to the impeachment process. But time has a way of brushing over these sins. Even Nixon over the years became respected as a wise, elder statesman. Though time may forget the sins, it does not produce accomplishments. Clinton's name will be in our history books, a library will be built in his honor and his portrait will still hang in an oak-paneled hall in Oxford. But, in the end, we'll have a hard time explaining why.

Please note All comments are eligible for publication in The Daily Pennsylvanian.