The Clinton Tapes, by Taylor Branch

In 1993, the president I had enthusiastically voted for in 1992 was frustrating me for a lot of reasons. The biggest frustration was the simple fact that Bill Clinton apparently could not single handedly transform the world within six months of taking office. That was a lot to expect, but dramatic change was what we all voted for. Naturally, history is repeating itself in many ways.

However, for perhaps the first time in 16 years, I am ready to forgive Clinton for things like not pushing harder to demand open acceptance of open homosexuality in the military. After all, he was outnumbered by opponents in Congress on that issue, therefore facing a guaranteed veto and major loss on one of his top priorities. That alone would have been enough to wipe out the issue, possibly killing it altogether for another 20 years, and it would undermine more viable parts of his agenda.

But I’ve taken all that into account before, so it doesn’t really explain my change of heart. I suspect my change of heart is due to the seductively simple language and tempered presentation in The Clinton Tapes. In his first recorded conversation with President Bill Clinton, historian Taylor Branch captures the whirlwind of the new president’s efforts to establish openly gay military service. Clinton discusses the complexity of the politics at play, including the complex perspectives of Colin Powell, Senator Robert Byrd and Senator Sam Nunn. And somewhere in this accounting I saw past my own politics to appreciate Clinton’s necessarily awkward management of the issue.

Taylor Branch’s private conversations with the 40th President are delivered with a frank but warm presentation that can also make you forget just how unusually important these exchanges are. The Clinton Tapes began when President Clinton contacted his old roommate and fellow activist after 20 years, asking him to be the White House historian. To make a long but worthwhile story short, Taylor Branch suggested that instead of being a formal historian, he would like to capture the president himself over the course of his time in office.

Not since the Nixon tapes have such honest moments been so dutifully captured, nor so carefully protected. The recorded tapes were stashed in the president’s sock drawer, the conversations a total secret to all but to his closest confidantes. And Taylor Branch has been biting his tongue among colleagues and friends for over 15 years.

The Clinton Tapes

An academic, Branch is naturally studying the process of the interviews as he captures them, and is constantly examining the parameters, relationships, and impact of his decisions as both participant and inquisitor. On page 216, for example, Jesse Helms has just told the world that dissent could be so grave that Clinton would not be safe on any military base in his state. Not only does this thinly veiled threat sound nearly treasonous, but it comes on the anniversary of JFK’s assassination. Branch recognizes how outrageous this is and probes the president. Clinton brushes it off as hot headed rhetoric and, distracted and tired, digresses into recounting a golf game he recently played. While the president recounts one of the most amazing games of his life, Branch is struggling with the decision to let him do so. After all, what is most important to history, to the world? Is such an opportunity wasted with discussion of a golf game? Branch reaffirms his mission to capture the man himself, and Clinton revels in his greatest golf triumph for a while longer.

As someone who expects a great deal from our leaders, I appreciate the honest role of Branch as a constant critic of Clinton’s. He didn’t vote for his old friend in 1992, and was somewhat reluctant to discuss a professional role in the administration. Branch remains consistently critical and ready to challenge Clinton on progressive issues, but is also consistently fair in his presentation of context and counterpoints.

Much as this is a documentary record of President Clinton, it is also an accounting of the ongoing debate and discussion of two skilled academics engrossed in policy and politics. In short, The Clinton Tapes is a wonkophile’s wet dream.

That said, I’m a dork who loves the art of the interview almost as much as I love politics, so while this may be interesting to me, I can see how the self-analysis could be annoying to others. While it adds to the post-modern, self-aware, meta-ness, I’ll admit that it also interrupts the flow.

The main elements missing in this book are the raw transcripts. Unfortunately I was a bit let down upon discovering this was a narrative presentation with very little raw data. The reason is that Taylor Branch doesn’t actually have the tapes. Clinton kept them all. Branch had to go from his own notes and recordings he made directly after each of these conversations. Interestingly enough though, this likely enhances the value of The Clinton Tapes. Branch does a brilliant job of conveying the conversations in a way that captures context, personality and the heart of each exchange. Any editor will tell you the historical record (not to mention book sales) is better for it. Still, I’m hoping we’ll someday get a chance to read the transcripts or hear the conversations.

In sum, Rob likes The Clinton Tapes because it is the manifestation of all my wonkophile fantasies. You’ve got debate between high minded scholars, cat-and-mouse games with the Special Prosecutor, secret recordings hidden in the president’s private residence — what’s not to like?

So, order a copy now and you’ll have something smart to read at the beach this summer.

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