In My Time - Dick Cheney [142]
And what an adventure it would be.
CHAPTER NINE
Big Time
The 2000 Republican convention in Philadelphia was a showcase for George W. Bush’s “compassionate conservatism,” and as much as the mainstream media can ever love a Republican convention, they were fans of this one. They hailed the convention’s first-night theme—“Opportunity with a Purpose: Leave No Child Behind”—as something new and welcome from the GOP. When Laura Bush talked about the importance of literacy and Colin Powell spoke about community service and volunteerism, press coverage praised the theme of inclusion, and the convention’s “softest of sells.”
The Bush campaign communicators had worked hard to put together a convention that would present a moderate face to undecided voters, and they seemed to have succeeded. When they saw a draft of my speech, however, they worried I would undo their months of hard work. One line in particular troubled them, the refrain “It’s time for them to go,” which purposely echoed the line from Al Gore’s 1992 convention address. I was pretty sure that in the context of 2000, it would irritate the heck out of Democrats and thrill Republicans, but some on the Bush staff thought it was too harsh. They didn’t want me to attack Clinton and Gore; they believed “red meat” might play well in the hall, but not in people’s living rooms.
I think they were hoping for a kinder, gentler Dick Cheney, and I listened to what they had to say, and then I ignored their advice. And to this day I am glad I did. It was important for the Bush-Cheney ticket to reach out to moderates, but we also had to make clear that there were big differences between us and our opponents and that it was time for a change. Watching a tape of the speech now, more than a decade later, I am struck by how well it served that purpose—and how much fun I had giving it.
As a candidate for president, Al Gore was trying his best to distance himself from Bill Clinton and the scandals surrounding him. I tried my best not to let him. Speaking of the two of them that night I said:
Somehow, we will never see one without thinking of the other. . . . They came in together. Now let us see them off together. Ladies and gentlemen, the wheel has turned, and it is time, time for them to go.
Bill Clinton had said that he planned to hold on to power “until the last hour of the last day,” and I reminded the crowd that it was his right to do so:
But my friends, that last hour is coming. That last day is near. The wheel has turned, and it is time, time for them to go.
After two nights of compassionate conservatism, the audience in the First Union Center was ready to raise the roof, and raise it they did. They chanted, “Time for them to go! Time for them to go!” before breaking spontaneously into the refrain from a sixties song, “Na na na na, na na na na, hey hey hey, goodbye!” I even got into it myself at one point, signaling like a baseball umpire, “You’re outta here!” I’ll never forget looking out into the vast crowd and seeing George Shultz, a former secretary of state and one of America’s most dignified elder statesmen, swaying back and forth and singing, “Hey hey hey, goodbye!”
I ended my remarks with a reminder to the audience of how lucky we are to live in the United States of America and how great a debt we owe to those who have preserved and protected our great nation. I described a trip I had taken many times as secretary of defense from Andrews Air Force Base to the Pentagon by helicopter. I talked about looking down at the Capitol, where all the great debates that have shaped two centuries of American history have taken place, and then flying along the Mall, where the monument to George Washington, our first president, stands sentinel. To the north was the White House, where John Adams once prayed “that none but honest and wise men may ever rule under this roof.” Next came