One might get the sense that our esteemed press corps is
suffering from an acute collective lack of imagination. Here’s a
sampling of questions from President Bush’s press conference last
night:
“Two and a half years later, do you feel any sense of personal
responsibility for September 11th?”
“One of the biggest criticisms of you is that whether it’s WMD
in Iraq, postwar planning in Iraq, or even the question of whether
this administration did enough to ward off 9/11, you never admit a
mistake. Is that a fair criticism, and do you believe that there
were any errors in judgment that you made related to any of those
topics I brought up?”
“Two weeks ago, a former counterterrorism official at the NSC,
Richard Clarke, offered an unequivocal apology to the American
people for failing them prior to 9/11. Do you believe the American
people deserve a similar apology from you, and would you prepared
to give them one?”
“You’ve looked back before 9/11 for what mistakes might have
been made. After 9/11, what would your biggest mistake be, would
you say, and what lessons have you learned from it?”
“I guess I’d like to know if you feel, in any way, that you have
failed as a communicator on [Iraq].”
Those five variations on the same question represented fully a
third of the questions asked.
In general, the President parried the thrusts well — 9/11 was
bin Laden’s fault; we weren’t on a war footing before 9/11 and we
should have been; we’ll see in November if he’s communicated well
enough.
His opening remarks were a solid primer on the events on the
ground in Iraq (the nature of the insurgents, the various deadlines
for steps in the process of creating a sovereign state) for the
mass of Americans only half paying attention. And he generally
looked in control during the question and answer session, with one
exception.
The one major gaffe (I’m not counting minor things like calling
Donald Rumsfeld the Secretary or State or appearing briefly to be
blanking on Kim Jong-Il’s name) came when he was asked about
post-9/11 mistakes. Bush looked genuinely startled by the question
— “I wish you’d have given me this written question ahead of time
so I could plan for it,” he joked initially.
He started off well, saying “I’m sure historians will look back
and say, gosh, he could’ve done it better this way or that way.”
But then he came out with, “You know, I just — I’m sure something
will pop into my head here in the midst of this press conference,
with all the pressure of trying to come up with answer, but it
hasn’t yet.” After defending his record — “Even knowing what I
know today about the stockpiles of weapons, I still would’ve called
upon the world to deal with Saddam Hussein,” he said — he
ultimately punted: “I don’t want to sound like I have made no
mistakes. I’m confident I have. I just haven’t — you just put me
under the spot here, and maybe I’m not as quick on my feet as I
should be in coming up with one.”
In a way, this sort of thing is endearing — few politicians
admit weakness like that, and part of Bush’s appeal is his genuine,
regular-guy affect. But it’s hard to shake the feeling that this
was the most memorable moment of the hour, the one that may reach a
wider audience by way of late-night comedy, and exactly the kind of
thing that reporters’ testy cross-examination was meant to
elicit.
Next time, Bush ought to take the advice that NYU Journalism
Professor Jay Rosen gave on his blog yesterday: skip the dance with the press, and
just give a speech.
