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Ari Fleischer Lies
New Republic
Issue date: 06.10.02
by Jonathan Chait
Ari Fleischer, the White House press secretary, is famous. But
I knew him back when he was merely infamous, as chief Republican
spokesman on the House Ways and Means Committee. He spoke with a
cool, quick certainty, unhindered by any sense of conscience. A
profile in GQ--not many Hill staffers receive such
attention--dubbed him the "flack out of hell."
The typical press secretary shovels out fairly blunt
propaganda, the kind reporters can spot a mile away and sidestep
easily. But Fleischer has a way of blindsiding you, leaving you
disoriented and awestruck. Once, about six years ago, I called to
ask him something about tax reform. Knowing Fleischer, I tried to
anticipate his possible replies and map out countermeasures to
cut off his escape routes. I began the conversation by bringing
up what seemed a simple premise: His boss, Bill Archer, favored
replacing the income tax with a national sales tax. Fleischer
immediately interrupted to insist that Archer did not support any
such thing. I was dumbfounded. Forgetting my line of questioning,
I frantically tried to recall how it was I knew that Archer had
advocated a sales tax. But in the face of this confident
assertion, my mind went blank. "Wha ... uh, really?" I stammered.
He assured me it was true. Completely flustered, I thanked him
and hung up. I rummaged through my files, trying to piece
together my reality. Didn't everybody who followed these things
know that Archer favored a sales tax? Yes--here was one newspaper
story, and another, and finally a crinkled position paper,
authored by Bill Archer, explaining why we needed a national
sales tax. Of course he favored it. Fleischer had made the whole
thing up.
Most press secretaries "spin." Spin is a clever, lawyerly art,
often performed with a knowing wink, which involves casting your
boss's actions in the most favorable light. Practitioners of spin
don't deny generally accepted facts or contest a reporter's right
to ask questions. Rather, they emphasize alternative facts as a
way of establishing the difference between what their boss is
perceived to have done and what he or she actually did. During
the Clinton administration, spin came to symbolize everything
reporters loathed about what they saw as a too-clever-by-half
presidency. The Washington Post's Howard Kurtz, in his book Spin
Cycle, describes Bill Clinton's spinsters as trying "to defend
the indefensible," by, for instance, insisting that White House
coffees with donors were not "fund-raisers" because the money was
raised beforehand.
But what Fleischer does, for the most part, is not really
spin. It's a system of disinformation--blunter, more aggressive,
and, in its own way, more impressive than spin. Much of the time
Fleischer does not engage with the logic of a question at all. He
simply denies its premises--or refuses to answer it on the
grounds that it conflicts with a Byzantine set of rules governing
what questions he deems appropriate. Fleischer has broken new
ground in the dark art of flackdom: Rather than respond
tendentiously to questions, he negates them altogether.
I. The Audacious Fib
Like any skilled craftsman, Fleischer has a variety of
techniques at his disposal. The first is the one he used to such
great effect at Ways and Means: He cuts off the question with a
blunt, factual assertion. Sometimes the assertion is an outright
lie; sometimes it's on the edge. But in either case the intent is
to deceive--to define a legitimate question as based on false
premises and, therefore, illegitimate. Fleischer does this so
well, in part because of his breathtaking audacity: Rather than
tell a little fib--i.e., attacking the facts most open to
interpretation in a reporter's query--he often tells a big one,
challenging the question in a way the reporter could not possibly
anticipate. Then there's his delivery: Fleischer radiates
boundless certainty, recounting even his wildest fibs in the
matter-of-fact, slightly patronizing tone you would use to
explain, say, the changing of the seasons to a child. He neither
under-emotes (which would appear robotic) nor overemotes (which
would appear defensive) but seems at all times so natural that
one wonders if somehow he has convinced himself of his own
untruths.
One month ago, for example, a reporter cited the
administration's recent plan to build an education, health, and
welfare infrastructure in Afghanistan and asked Fleischer when
George W. Bush--who during the campaign repeatedly bad-mouthed
nation-building--had come around to the idea. A lesser flack
would have given the obvious, spun response: The Bush
administration's policies in Afghanistan don't constitute
nation-building for reasons X, Y, and Z. The reporter might have
expected that reply and prepared a follow-up accordingly. But
Fleischer went the other way, bluntly asserting that Bush had
never derided nation-building to begin with. "The president has
always been for those," Fleischer said. The questioner, likely
caught off guard, repeated, "He's always been for..." when
Fleischer interjected, "Do you have any evidence to the
contrary?" In fact, Bush had denounced nation-building just as
unambiguously as Archer had endorsed the national sales tax. "I
don't think our troops ought to be used for what's called
nation-building," said candidate Bush in the second presidential
debate, to take one of many examples. The offending reporter, of
course, didn't have any of these quotes handy at the press
conference, and so Fleischer managed to extinguish the
nation-building queries.
To take another example, after the coup in Venezuela last
month, Fleischer announced that "it happened in a very quick
fashion as a result of the message of the Venezuelan people." But
once the coup was reversed, the administration's seeming support
proved embarrassing. So at the next press conference, a reporter
asked Fleischer, "Last Friday, you said that it--the seizure of
power illegitimately in Venezuela--`happened in a very quick
fashion as a result of the message of the Venezuelan people';
that the seizure of power, extraconstitutionally, that is,
dissolution of the congress and the supreme court happened as a
result of the message of the Venezuelan people."
Fleischer could have acknowledged the underlying fact--that
the Bush administration initially endorsed the coup--but then
expressed regret at its anti-democratic turn, a turn that the
United States presumably opposed and perhaps even tried to
prevent. Instead, he replied, "No, that's not what I said." And
indeed, it wasn't exactly what he said--after quoting Fleischer
verbatim reacting to the coup, the reporter went on to describe
some of the things that happened after the coup. And that gave
Fleischer his opening: "The dissolution that you just referred to
did not take place until later Friday afternoon," he noted. "It
could not possibly be addressed in my briefing because it hadn't
taken place yet." By focusing on the latter, subordinate part of
the reporter's question, Fleischer negated the verbatim quote of
his earlier remarks--and thus neatly cut off discussion of the
administration's early reaction to news of the coup.
The problem with this tactic is that it's always possible to
get caught in an outright lie. Speaking to reporters on the
morning of February 28, for instance, Fleischer said of Middle
East peace negotiations under Clinton: "As a result of an attempt
to push the parties beyond where they were willing to go, that
led to expectations that were raised to such a high level that it
turned to violence." The story went out that the administration
blamed Middle East violence on its predecessor's peacemaking.
That afternoon, Fleischer insisted he had said no such thing.
"That's a mischaracterization of what I said," he protested. But
Fleischer's earlier statement was too fresh in the press corps's
mind to simply deny, and the press continued to hound him. Later
in the day he was forced to issue a statement of regret.
What this episode illustrates is that stating unambiguous
falsehoods carries certain risks--and no press secretary can
afford to have his factual accuracy repeatedly challenged by the
press. So while Fleischer may employ this tactic more frequently
than most press secretaries, it is still relatively rare--the
p.r. equivalent of a trick play in football: While spectacular to
behold and often successful, more frequent usage would dilute its
effectiveness and risk disaster.
The greater feat is to put yourself in a position where you
don't have to lie. This can be accomplished in lots of
ways--spinning is the preferred approach for most flacks, but
that isn't Fleischer's style; candor, obviously, is out of the
question. Fleischer's method of choice is question-avoidance.
After all, you can't be accused of answering a question
untruthfully if you haven't answered it at all.
II. The Process Non Sequitur
Fleischer has two ways of not answering a question. The first
is the non sequitur, a banal statement that, though related to
the general topic, sheds no light upon the question at hand.
Here, again, Fleischer is an innovator: Whereas most spinners
abhor questions about legislative process and try to turn them
into questions about their boss's beliefs, Fleischer excels at
turning specific questions about Bush's beliefs and intentions
into remedial-level civics-class descriptions of process. For
example, asked last month if Bush would sign an energy bill that
didn't include new drilling in Alaska, here was Fleischer's
response in full: "Again, the process, as you know, is the House
passes a bill, the Senate passes a bill. And we'll go to
conference and try to improve the bill from what the Senate
passed. The purpose of energy legislation is to make America more
energy-independent. And that's the goal of the conference, in the
president's opinion." Will Bush sign a campaign finance bill that
doesn't restrict union dues? Fleischer's reply in full: "The
president is looking forward to working together to bring people
together so he can sign a bill."
At his best, Fleischer can fasten together clumps of non
sequiturs into an elaborate web of obfuscation. Last year Bush
persuaded GOP Representative Charlie Norwood to back off his own
patients' bill of rights just before the other co-sponsors held a
press conference, effectively splitting up a bipartisan
coalition. Yet patients' rights was popular, and Bush wanted to
present himself as supporting the bill he had just scuttled. The
task of disseminating this message fell to Fleischer, and the
result was inspired. The transcript of that afternoon's press
conference reads like dialogue from a David Mamet film:
Fleischer: [W]e're going to be prepared to work with a number
of people to get it done. Q: You would work with the people,
including the ones who put the bill forward today? Why won't you
work with them? Fleischer: Absolutely. Absolutely we will. Q: So
why are you asking lawmakers not to go with them, to stay with
us? Fleischer: Again, I think the president is just in a position
now where we want to begin the process, begin this year working
directly with some of the more influential people who have been
part of the patients' bill of rights in the past, and we'll
continue to do that.
A few minutes later Fleischer stated, "We view what's
happening today on the Hill"-- that is, the press conference Bush
had pressured Norwood to abandon--"as very helpful to the
process." But, a reporter asked, "If it's helpful ... why was
Norwood asked not to attend today's event?" Fleischer explained,
"I think congressmen decide every day whether they want to
co-sponsor bills or not co-sponsor bills." His purpose in this
exercise was not to make the press corps see Bush's side of the
argument, or even to make any argument at all, but simply to
befuddle them with non sequitur nonsense until they ran out of
questions.
III. The Rules
After the non sequitur, the other kind of non-answer is more
straightforward: the open refusal to reply. This is tricky
business. A press secretary, after all, is supposed to provide
information to the press, not deny it. The straight rebuff, then,
must be couched in terms of some broader principle. And it is
here that Fleischer's particular genius is on clearest display.
As press secretary, Fleischer has developed a complex, arbitrary,
and constantly shifting set of rules governing what questions he
can answer. If a reporter's question can be answered simply by
reciting talking points about process, Fleischer will comply. If
he can't, he will find a way to rule it out of order.
Fleischer declines to answer any question he deems
"hypothetical." This, too, is a common press-secretary tactic,
but Fleischer has a talent for finding hypotheticals buried in
what would seem to be extremely concrete questions. Earlier this
year, for example, the administration praised an Arab League
resolution supporting the Saudi peace plan, but dismissed as
irrelevant a resolution condemning a possible U.S. attack on
Iraq. A reporter asked why one Arab League resolution mattered
but the other didn't. "I'm not going to speculate about plans
that the president has said that he has made no decisions on and
have not crossed his desk," Fleischer replied. "That wasn't my
question," the reporter retorted. Fleischer insisted: "You're
asking about an attack on Iraq, and the president has said
repeatedly that he has no plans and nothing has crossed his desk.
So that enters into the area of hypothetical." Fleischer
redefined a question about something that had happened--the Arab
League resolution--into a question about something that hadn't--a
U.S. attack on Iraq--and then dismissed the latter as
hypothetical.
Perhaps the easiest way for Fleischer to dismiss questions is
to suggest that he is not the appropriate person to answer
them--something he does with remarkable promiscuity. Do the
administration and Pakistan agree on extraditing the killers of
Daniel Pearl? "You'd have to ask Pakistan," Fleischer replied on
February 25. Did Israel's offensive in the West Bank enhance its
security? "That's a judgment for Israel to make," he said on
April 16. In short, if a question can be said to pertain to
another country, that discharges the White House from having to
state an opinion.
Fleischer uses the same technique for discussions of domestic
policy. Does the administration want Congress to move ahead with
campaign finance reform? "The president does not determine the
Senate schedule," Fleischer explained on March 19. "The Senate
leadership determines the Senate schedule." (That hasn't stopped
the White House from demanding the Senate take up other
legislation on numerous occasions.) Does an anti-administration
court ruling strengthen the U.S. General Accounting Office's case
for demanding energy documents? "That's for the courts to judge,
not for me," Fleischer demurred on February 28. What about the
recent decision by Stanley Works to relocate to Bermuda, which
several members of Congress condemned? "I can't comment on any
one individual corporate action." Indeed, Fleischer will even
pawn off questions involving other branches of the Bush
administration. Asked this spring whether Army Secretary Thomas
White has lived up to the standards Bush set out after Enron,
Fleischer answered, "Anything particular to Enron, I would refer
you to the Department of Justice." What sort of access did GOP
donors get to White House officials at a recent fund-raiser? Ask
the Republican National Committee, replied Fleischer. Has Colin
Powell met with Ariel Sharon? Ask the State Department. Did the
administration intervene to allow more pollutants in Alabama? Ask
the Environmental Protection Agency. And so on.
When questions cannot be fobbed off on other departments,
Fleischer often rephrases them to make them seem so complex and
esoteric that he couldn't possibly be expected to answer them.
Asked two weeks ago to comment on a blockbuster quote by Bush
counterterrorism official Richard Clarke prominently featured in
a front-page Washington Post story, he replied, "I do not receive
a daily briefing on his verbatim quotes." One year ago Fleischer
listed six members of Congress who would appear at an event with
Bush. Asked how many were Democrats--this was two months into
Bush's tenure, when he was making a big deal of meeting with
members of the other party--Fleischer said, "I don't have any
breakdown here." (The breakdown was six Republicans, no
Democrats.) Last year Fleischer ticked off for the press Bush's
legislative priorities. "Where does campaign finance rank in
those priorities?" asked one. "I don't do linear rankings,"
Fleischer replied, as if to suggest that answering the question
would require a sophisticated mathematical analysis.
o emphasize his inability to answer these complicated
questions, Fleischer occasionally pleads lack of expertise. Last
year he touted a drop in oil prices since Bush took office and
plugged the president's energy plan. Would the energy plan, which
would take effect over the long run, impact short-term prices?
"I'm not an economist," he demurred. What does the administration
think about an unfavorable court ruling? "I'm not a lawyer." Has
Yasir Arafat been elected democratically? "I personally am just
not expert enough to be able to answer that question.... That was
before I came to this White House."
For any administration, the most damaging information often
comes in the form of anonymous quotes from White House staffers.
Leaks rarely happen in this administration; but when they do,
they are often more damaging for their infrequency. So in order
to avoid answering questions arising from such leaks, Fleischer
simply denies their veracity. Asked, in the wake of the
Venezuelan coup, about a quote in The New York Times attributed
to a "Defense Department official," Fleischer went on the
attack:
Fleischer: And what's the name of the official? Q: The
official is unnamed. But it is-- Fleischer: Then how do you know
he's "top"? Q: It says, according to The New York Times. So is
this official mistaken? Fleischer: You don't know the person's
name? Q: No, I don't know the-- Fleischer: The person obviously
doesn't have enough confidence in what he said to say it on the
record.... So I think if you can establish the name of this
person who now without a name you're calling "top," we can
further that. But I think you're--you need to dig into that.
(Fleischer himself, of course, makes a regular practice of
speaking to reporters off the record.)
In the even rarer case that an administration official cuts
against the party line on the record, Fleischer still manages to
come up with a set of rules that enables him not to acknowledge
it. A few weeks ago a reporter asked him if Bush agreed with
Treasury Secretary Paul O'Neill, who had said he "can't find too
many Americans who believe that they are overtaxed." Fleischer
enthusiastically replied in the affirmative. The reporter,
realizing Fleischer must have misunderstood the quote, helpfully
repeated it. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought your question was--I
hadn't heard that Secretary O'Neill said that," Fleischer
backtracked, proceeding to declare, "I have a long-standing habit
in this briefing room, when a reporter describes to me the
statements that are made by government officials, I always like
to see those statements myself with my own eyes before I
comment." Needless to say, that "long-standing habit" had not
prevented Fleischer from commenting when he thought the statement
concurred with Bush's own view.
Fleischer likewise reserves the right to close off topics
because of timing. This applies first to events that have already
taken place. Upon taking office, Fleischer wouldn't comment on
allegations (fed by White House leaks) of massive vandalism by
departing Clintonites because "the president is looking forward
and not backwards." He wouldn't discuss the firing of Army Corps
of Engineers head Mike Parker because it was "over and dealt
with."
But Fleischer also refuses to address events that have yet to
take place. When campaign finance reform moved through the Senate
last year, he declined to explain Bush's position: "It's too
early, yet, to say." After it passed, and went to the House,
Fleischer continued to demur because "[i]t hasn't even made its
way through the House yet." After it passed the House, he still
wouldn't express a view, because "you just don't know what the
Senate is going to do.... There's a lot of talk about will the
Senate try to amend it, will they be unsuccessful in amending it?
Will the Senate basically take the House bill and put it in a
photocopier, and, therefore, send it directly to the president?"
Well, a reporter asked, what if they do photocopy it? Fleischer
retorted--you guessed it--"I don't answer hypotheticals."
The reporter tried, valiantly, to get an answer one more time,
with a query that was clear, nonhypothetical, White
House-related, and present tense: "Of the two bills that have
been passed, is there any reason to veto either one?" Fleischer's
answer? "We're going to go around in circles on this." You can't
argue with that.
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