Irrational Affairs: Is Bush Dumb?

Or is Bush just too busy remembering the names of his old frat brothers to focus on things like who he had executed last week?
by Al Franken, October 11, 2000

September 12th was a bad day for George W. Bush. That was the day the New York Times revealed that a Republican ad attacking Gore-Lieberman contained a single frame that said rats. It was also the day a story broke that Gail Sheehy's upcoming Vanity Fair article would speculate that Bush is dyslexic. So, it was a bad day for Bush to deny that his campaign was using "subliminable" advertising. Four times. Personally, I tried to cut him some slack and guessed that maybe Bush was using a sophisticated subliminal technique himself by slipping in the word "able." And I didn't go around telling this joke: "George W. Bush was asked yesterday, 'Are you dyslexic?' and he said, 'On!'"

It was an especially bad day because, in the weeks after the national conventions, as George W. Bush stumbled and his lead over Al Gore evaporated, the media had begun to question once again whether Bush is up to the job. Day after day, they still faithfully report his latest verbal gaffe. All because his poll numbers are down. Which really isn't fair. Bush has been stupid all along.

Take, for example, this gem on education, from January. "Rarely is the question asked: Is our children learning?" Technically, of course, he's right. Personally, I've never heard that question asked. Or how about this sympathetic comment to struggling workers: "I know it's hard to put food on your family."

There's a whole bunch of good ones. About the economy: "I understand small business growth -- I was one." Yes, he was. As the owner of an oil-exploration company, he lost millions of dollars of his father's friends' money. Still, it must have been an exciting time in Midland, Texas, because he told an interviewer in 1994, "It was just inebriating, what Midland was all about then."

Bush is a graduate of Yale University, which he got into through its legacy affirmative-action program and where, like in high school, he got awful grades. One of his two favorite Supreme Court justices, Clarence Thomas (the other is Antonin Scalia), also got into Yale, but through the other kind of affirmative action (which all three oppose).

W. did, however, display some impressive people skills in college. During Bush's induction into the Delta Kappa Epsilon fraternity, the DKE upperclassmen hazed the inductees -- hitting them and calling them "excrement," that sort of thing. As part of the humiliation, to show what a worthless piece of shit you were, the inductees were asked to name all their fellow pledges. Several were called on and could name only five or six. When Bush was called, he amazed everyone by naming all fifty-five of the other pledges. Definitely a handy talent for a future businessman and politician.

However, Bush's memory doesn't seem to serve him as well when it comes to people he's had executed. In July on ABC's This Week, Cokie Roberts asked Bush about his statement from a March debate: "I'm absolutely confident that everybody has been put to death has two things: One, they're guilty of the crime charged; and secondly, they have full access to the courts." Roberts brought up the case of Odell Barnes, who had been executed the day before that debate. Roberts said that Barnes' lawyers had obtained information that called into question every bit of evidence that had been used to convict him. But Texas law had not allowed that new evidence to be heard by a court. How did this square with Bush's statement?

"Well, I don't remember the specifics -- well, I don't remember the specifics. . . . I, you know, and -- and -- and I'm not castigating you now, I wish you would have given me a chance to bring the full dossier, so I could have discussed it in detail with you. . . ." My guess is that if you asked Bush the names of the last fifty-five people executed in Texas, he'd probably remember only Karla Faye Tucker, whose pleas for mercy he ridiculed in a Talk magazine story reported by conservative pundit Tucker Carlson: "'Please,' Bush whimpers, his lips pursed in mock desperation, 'don't kill me.'"

So to a large extent, the issue is not raw stupidity. Or even the disturbing selectivity of his memory. A big part of the problem is W.'s apparent lack of intellectual curiosity. It appears, for example, that he doesn't read very much. Though he was prepared with an answer last December when, in a New Hampshire debate, he was asked what book he was currently reading. "I'm reading a book on Dean Acheson," Harry Truman's secretary of state. It was a pretty smart choice, showing that, even if he doesn't know the names of all the countries, he's still serious about foreign policy.

The problem was that in the next debate, five days later, the moderator, Judy Woodruff of CNN, asked W. what he had learned about Dean Acheson. Bush froze up and then responded with a string of lines directly from his canned stump speech: "The lessons learned are that the United States must not retreat within our borders, that we must promote the peace." The next day, I called a friend at the Gore campaign and suggested they make a large papier-mache Dean Acheson head and have someone follow Bush around with a sign saying, "Why don't you know anything about me?"

The Gore people ignored me, but this was before I became a part of Gore's inner circle. Now, they're finally listening. And I think I've thought of the ploy that is going to cinch this thing for the vice president. In the first debate, Gore is going to say something negative about the Bush-Quayle administration. Governor Bush will then feel compelled to defend his father, President Bush, and say something positive about him. At that point, Gore will say, "I knew George Bush. George Bush was a friend of mine. You, sir, are no George Bush." I believe that will hopelessly confuse Governor Bush and that he will be unable to speak for the rest of the debate. So, watch for that.

But back to reading. Last year Pizza Hut, as part of a program to encourage children to read, asked all the governors to list their first favorite books. Bush put The Very Hungry Caterpillar at the very top of his list. And it's a very good book. I read it to my kids when they were little. The thing is, The Very Hungry Caterpillar was not published until 1969, a year after W. had graduated from Yale. So I guess those who say that Bush hasn't cracked a book since college aren't giving him enough credit.

I think one of Bush's problems is that he doesn't realize that he's not very bright. My theory is that Bush thinks pretty much everyone else is kind of dumb, so, on a curve, at least, he's smart. I base this on the way he handled the cocaine question. You'll remember that the question of whether he had ever taken cocaine surfaced early in the campaign. Bush became quite indignant: "There's a game in Washington. It's called 'Gotcha.' It's a game where we float a rumor and make the candidate prove a negative. And I'm not playing the game."

But then, when pressed, Bush told reporters that he absolutely did not do cocaine after 1974. Well, did he do cocaine before 1974? "I'm not going to play that game!" I'm not sure how he would expect us not to conclude, "Oh, I see. He did cocaine in 1974."

Frankly, I don't care if he did cocaine before he read The Very Hungry Caterpillar. Or if he snorted it when he was twelve. Although, if he did, shame on his folks. I know his dad was busy, but, c'mon, pay some attention!

Actually, I've talked to W. briefly about this. It was last August, and we met at a small campaign event in Indianola, Iowa, a little town about twenty minutes south of Des Moines. I said, "I don't care whether or not you've ever done cocaine, but, since we're in Iowa, I have to ask you: Have you ever manufactured any crystal meth?" He laughed, but he did not, and I think this is important, he did not deny. Which actually was smart, because if he'd denied, then I could have asked him why he wouldn't categorically deny using cocaine. So, in this case anyway, I guess he outsmarted me.

Unfortunately, I didn't stop there. I asked him about a pet subject of mine, the Community Reinvestment Act, which was passed in 1977. CRA requires banks to provide capital to people who have historically been denied it: the working poor, women, minorities. At that time, Phil Gramm, the Texas senator and chairman of the Senate banking committee, was trying to gut CRA in the new Financial Services Modernization Act. First I asked W. if he knew what CRA is. He said he did. For some reason, I didn't have the heart to follow with, "Oh, yeah? What is it?" So I guess I was outsmarted again.

Then I asked him if he agreed with me that CRA was a perfect example of compassionate conservatism. He said yes, it is. So what about his fellow Texan's attempt to weaken it? "I believe a compromise has been reached on that." Of course, he was wrong. The impasse on CRA was the last remaining roadblock to the bill's passage and would not be resolved for another three months. On the one hand, maybe you can't expect a governor to know what's happening in the Senate banking committee. Then again, if I had asked Bill Clinton or Al Gore the same question, I would have gotten a dissertation on the history (and smashing success) of CRA.

By the way, I contacted Bush's office the next week and was finally able to get his campaign's position on CRA. Guess what? It was the same as Gramm's. Bush might actually be sincere about compassionate conservatism. But it seems to me that it would take an awfully smart, engaged and knowledgeable person to implement it.

Are there still people in this country who think George W. Bush is an able, dynamic leader with lots of ideas? I guess so. And I know that millions of conservative Republicans would prefer a like-minded, if lightweight, president to a progressive know-it-all who thinks government can solve problems. That's their right. The question I've had for months, especially when Bush was ahead in the polls, is, how could Americans think that George W. Bush was the man for our times?

Here's my theory: Bill Clinton has made it look easy. During his administration, Clinton presided over the best economy in our history, turned massive deficits into surpluses and brought crime down every year, and we're at peace. All with one hand behind his back, investigated from Day One. How hard can it really be?

I've never been president, but my guess is that it's really hard. And when a matter comes to your desk for a decision, it's because your advisers, all of whom are very smart, couldn't resolve it among themselves. Now the country, the world is waiting for you to bring all your experience, all your judgment, all your intelligence to bear. What do you do, W.?

"I know! I call Dad!"