It was the first question of the night.
"One of you is about to be elected the leader of the single-most powerful nation in the world, economically, financially, militarily, diplomatically, you name it. Have you formed any guiding principles for exercising this enormous power?"
It was Oct. 11, 2000. Clinton was still in office. 9/11 hadn't happened yet. An article in that day's New York Times reported, "Mideast violence begins to subside," while another commented on North Korea's "willingness to come out of its shell."
But that night, all eyes were on the two presidential contenders, George W. Bush and Al Gore, as they stood on stage in a debate of foreign policy.
The first to answer was Bush.
"I have. The first question is what's in the best interest of the United States?"
He would later add, "Our nation stands alone right now in the world in terms of power, and that's why we've got to be humble ... I just don't think it's the role of the United States to walk into a country and say, 'We do it this way, so should you.'"
Indeed, in his 2000 campaign, Bush made Christian values his greatest asset and claimed they gave shape to his staunch position against nation-building, as well as one key sentiment he uttered at every campaign stop — "I'm a uniter, not a divider."
Fast-forward seven years.
See a U.S. crippled with the burden of a warring Middle East and by a Washington deeply divided along partisan lines. In 2000, analysts celebrated the end of the imperial presidency. Now, they say Bush has only intensified it.
Voters got Bush wrong. Terribly. Twice.
What can we learn from this?
Experience matters. Period. It was no secret that Bush had little political experience and in terms of foreign policy, that he had none. After all, just six years earlier, Bush looked at reporters and asked of himself the question, "What's the boy done?"
The only answer Bush had to offer was his oversight of the construction of the Rangers baseball stadium.
Second, we learn that the ideology of candidates speaks louder than their words. The Bush campaign said he was a uniter, and voters believed him. But as a man unconditionally beholden to the ideals of a born-again Christian, how could this be so? In Bush's world, it's us or them; it's good or evil.
Finally, we learn from the 2000 election that the candidate isn't the only person voters elect. Voters also elect the friends.
Bush understood this. In the foreign policy debate back in 2000, he told the crowd assembled, "I also understand that an administration is not one person, but an administration is dedicated citizens... I've thought about an administration of people who represent all America... and that's Mr. Richard Cheney."
If we understand Bush in the terms of how his past performance, ideology and alliances have shaped him and not say, as his carefully calculated campaign had, then the huge disparity between what we thought President Bush would achieve and what he has is not so surprising.
That's the twisted irony of campaigns — the fact that they are possibly the least appropriate time to get to know a candidate.
After all, in a time of careful calculations and meticulously constructed scripts, when hired hands calibrate the candidates' every word and action, how could we, that public, give credit to such a grand farce?
But we do. Blindly. It's ignorance begotten by laziness: we often do not challenge what campaigns and media tell us and take all information as fact.As the 2008 election draws near, we must hold all Bush has imparted to us close to our hearts.
This time, we can't afford to let the political campaigning do our thinking for us.
Rosie loves to be wrong. Tell her so at: rservis@asu.edu.
