RALEIGH – In recent decades, North Carolina has produced more than its share of national political standouts. Some didn’t just make the news headlines. They attracted groupies.
Sen. Sam Ervin’s chairmanship of the committee investigated the Watergate break-ins earned him a tremendous public following. Button, t-shirts, and even an album followed (I own a copy). Just after that, Sen. Jesse Helms gained both a national political base and national opprobrium. Gov. Jim Hunt played a big role in national associations and education groups during the 1970s and 80s, then became one of the most famous losers in congressional politics. North Carolina government and business are chock-full of Hunt acolytes. Elizabeth Dole became one of the country’s most-admired women as a cabinet secretary, Red Cross president, and wife of the leader of the Senate before running for president and then winning Helms’ Senate seat.
John Edwards had groupies, too. One was named Rielle Hunter.
None of North Carolina’s political standouts rose as far as fast. None has fallen so spectacularly. Defeating longtime political power Lauch Faircloth in a famous 1998 race that helped set the pace for other Democratic campaigns, Edwards made magazine covers in 1999 and was actively considered for the vice-presidential nod as early as 2000 (making Barack Obama look like a Johnny-come-lately). His presidential campaign in 2004 beat expectations and earned him a spot on the ticket. The 2008 effort was far less successful, but it was probably destined to be so given the history-making opponents he faced.
Did you watch Edwards’ Friday night appearance on “Nightline”? My guess is that, programmed against the Olympics, it nevertheless drew some pretty big numbers. Viewers saw a glib advocate with a fool for a client. They saw a vain man mouth apologetic words but still attack others for “telling lies,” with feigned passion. They saw a weasel compare his dalliance with a campaign aide two years ago to John McCain’s admitted sins two decades ago – then said he wouldn’t make the comparison. They saw a hypocrite admit to narcissism, narcissistically.
In short, they saw a phony.
Politicians are entitled to some privacy, though the level of their power is inversely related to the level of privacy they should expect (the president is entitled to very little). And politicians are human beings, prone to error and vulnerable to temptation. But they cross the line when, like John Edwards, they elevate their personal needs over their public responsibilities and involve others, including campaign staffers, in misdeeds and cover-ups. Did Edwards cheat while his wife was battling cancer? Did he father a child he won’t claim? When his campaign staff worked furiously to rebut affair allegations last fall, did he urge them on and feed them disinformation? Did he know that his former campaign fundraiser had been paying Rielle Hunter thousands of dollars a month, presumably to help keep her quiet? Did he know that Andrew Young, a former campaign aide, was also getting a monthly payoff? Did Edwards orchestrate it all?
If the answer to these questions is yes, Edwards isn’t just a creep. He’s a deceptive and dangerous schemer who got shockingly close to the White House and betrayed millions of people who supported him in good faith despite the fact that, if caught, he would have wreaked terrible damage on his party and the political causes he claims to champion. Edwards says the answers to these questions is no. Edwards says a lot of things.
I don’t want to rub salt in anyone’s wounds. But all this shouldn’t have come as a complete surprise to Edwards groupies. Someone who spends three years planning another presidential campaign centered on a “Two Americas” spiel and the abolition of poverty while simultaneously building a massive mansion near Chapel Hill is someone who is self-centered, lacks good judgment, and thinks he can talk his way out of anything. A man who will look reporters in the face and deny he’s using his wife’s cancer to gain political notoriety – while in the act of using his wife’s cancer to gain political notoriety – will say and do just about anything, no doubt excusing his actions with the usual rationalization that his ends are so noble than they justify any means necessary.
Although I doubt we have yet seen the last episode of the Edwards-Hunter soap opera, I think we can safely close the book on his all-for-naught political career. It was a short paperback, printed in large type, full of publicity photos, with only one footnote:
“*Certified 99 percent dishonest.”
Hood is president of the John Locke Foundation.