Death of American Virtue - Ken Gormley [398]
For the Clinton White House, Gingrich’s unexpected fall from grace was like the arrival of Christmas in November. By week’s end, it was Speaker Gingrich who was tendering his resignation and surrendering his leadership post. He had wagered the Republicans’ war chest and the party’s credibility on a smashing victory and instead had lost the farm. In the meantime, jittery poll numbers revealed a consistent 60 percent job approval rating for Clinton.
Despite these setbacks in Washington, the Republican juggernaut was re-amassing its strength, especially in states with strong conservative power bases. Jeb Bush, the young heir apparent to the Bush political dynasty, handily had won a first term as governor of Florida. His older brother, George W., easily had captured a second term as governor of Texas, producing speculation that one Bush or another might become a formidable candidate for president against Vice President Al Gore in 2000. Representative Bob Livingston (R-La.) was pictured in a Newsweek piece pumping his fist in the air with energy, as he prepared to replace Gingrich as Speaker. The GOP was poised to roar back with a vengeance.
The White House, meanwhile, decided to use the election results to Bill Clinton’s benefit.
In a surprise move, his lawyer Bob Bennett agreed to settle the Paula Jones case for a whopping $850,000. Although the lawsuit had been thrown out by Judge Wright and his chance for success on appeal in federal court was likely more than fifty-fifty, President Clinton now was prepared to pay a king’s ransom to make Jones go away. His lawyers’ strategy was brilliantly transparent—if the underlying case no longer existed, the alleged perjury in the Jones lawsuit would evaporate, snatching away Congress’s basis for passing impeachment articles.
Paula and Steve Jones were separating. Not only had their marriage fallen apart, but they also had messy tax problems, which meant the unhappy couple needed cash. Bob Bennett had repeatedly boasted, “Under no circumstances will we pay you another penny more than seven hundred thousand dollars.” Paula Jones’s Dallas lawyers now told their client that she should take the $850,000 and run. “That’s powerful evidence that you whacked them hard,” they argued. “You ought to declare victory and depart the field.”
Each side would later claim that it possessed “inside information” that it would have won in the Eighth Circuit Court of Appeals if the plug had not been pulled on the appeal. Despite this chest thumping, court watchers familiar with Judge Susan Webber Wright’s work gave the edge to Bill Clinton; Judge Wright was famous for writing tight, iron clad opinions that would be tough for any appeals court to overturn.
But such speculation about the never-written Eighth Circuit decision was largely academic. Even if they won the appeal, the Jones lawyers were keenly aware, they were a long way from cashing a check. Her Dallas lawyer, Wes Holmes, told Paula bluntly that if the Eighth Circuit reversed Judge Wright and the case went to a jury, “We’re going to try a really, really good case, and you’re probably going to lose.” He elaborated: “I mean, [Clinton is] an extremely popular character [in Arkansas]. And I really think that there was an easy way for the jury to decide against [you].” The jurors might believe 95 percent of her story, but then conclude, “I think that she was interested in him, and that this was just a flirtatious episode gone awry.”
There was either $850,000 behind the curtain, or zero.
Paula Jones herself would later say,