Article & Journal Resources

Discussions should be on the record

By MIKE PRIDE
Monitor editor

A core axiom for modern newspaper editors goes like this: Don't do anything you can't explain to readers. Well, last week I ended up in an off-the-record phone conversation with former president Bill Clinton moments after telling the Hillary Clinton campaign that I wouldn't take the call.

I'll explain, but first some background.

For the editor of the Concord Monitor, the presidential primary campaign is a yeasty time. The candidates, mainly the Democrats but some Republicans, too, want to be my friends. They want the paper's endorsement, favorable coverage, inside information and an ear to complain to.

We want some things, too. The main one is access to candidates that will prove useful to readers. Newspapers are not seeking sound bites or even 30-second answers. When we get an extra editorial board interview with a candidate, for instance, it means we can drill down on issues and report the answers fully in our news columns. The interviews also inform our editorials and columns and are a critical element in how we decide whom to endorse.

Sometimes things get a little more personal, but not much. Stuck in traffic jams or trekking through our notches and gores, candidates occasionally call to check up on me.

Did I see this poll or that story? Do I have any questions? I am still on John Kerry's Christmas card list, although I notice that his U.S. Senate campaign paid for this year's edition.

It was in this spirit of such relationships, if you can call them that, that I asked Hillary Clinton's campaign months ago if it could arrange for a Monitor interview with Bill Clinton.

We have a history with the Clintons. The Monitor endorsed Bill Clinton during the 1992 primary campaign and stood by him even when his candidacy hit extreme turbulence. Both Clintons know the state well from those days.

Hillary Clinton's campaign has been active in wooing us. She gave our editorial board a long - and impressive - interview last summer and is scheduled to return for another.

Kathleen Strand, her spokeswoman, indicated all along that she would try to get us time with Bill. The other day, I was driving back from Franklin, where I had interviewed a World War II veteran, when my cell phone rang. Strand was calling to offer an off-the-record conversation with Bill Clinton. I thanked her and said I'd get back to her.

Back at the office, I spoke with other editors and concluded I should decline the offer. What good would it do the editorial board or Monitor readers for me to talk privately with Clinton? I couldn't report on anything Clinton said. And allowing a politician, even a former president, to set such restrictive terms for the whole of a conversation is rarely a good idea. He wasn't calling to give me a tip on some covered-up public malfeasance.

I decided to treat the offer as the first bid in a negotiation. I sent Strand an e-mail that said, in part:

"While I appreciate the offer of an off-the-record phone call from President Clinton and would personally love to do it, I have to decline. What we'd really like is an on-the-record conference call from him with the editorial board."

Not a minute after I pushed the send button, my telephone bleated. The caller said she was from President Clinton's office and I should hold for an off-the-record talk with the president. I was momentarily confused, thinking somehow that this was a continuation of the conversation about the ground rules. I said okay.

There was a click, then silence. During this 10-second pause, it dawned on me precisely what the woman had said - basically, "Hold for President Clinton." I had seconds to consider my options: hang up, stick to my guns about an on-the-record interview or start asking questions.

We are human. We are weak. I started asking questions.

My rationalization was that maybe if I hadn't, none of us would have gotten a chance to hear from Clinton. But in reality, the desire to talk to the one-time leader of the free world overwhelmed the courage of my convictions.

Of course, I cannot now share with readers anything he said. But if you're paying attention to the campaign, you can probably guess the pitch he made for Hillary Clinton's candidacy. Throw in a couple of choice Arkansan locutions, and you'll have the whole picture. I'm pretty sure the president was making other similar calls that afternoon.

The race is tightening, as they often do near the end, and that's hard on a campaign, especially one as button-downed as Hillary Clinton's.

No doubt it's also hard on the former president. He's all in for his wife's candidacy but must be careful not to be too public about it, lest people think he's running the show.

The morning after he called, the front page of the New York Daily News had a small picture of the Clintons (his expression worried but resolute, hers haggard and glum) with a headline that read: "Honey, I'll fix the campaign."

The story inside was full of contradictions and anonymous sources, but the premise is probably correct. Naturally, the Clintons are thinking about how he can best help her.

As much as the former president is itching to be involved, I don't think his wife's campaign sandbagged me on the phone call. If my brain were more agile, I could have declined it and gone on negotiating terms with the campaign.

But even though our talk was just between him and me, I did think I owed readers an explanation.

This is it.