TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/033092/0330103.000

Text File | 1992-08-28 | 8.0 KB | 167 lines

                                                                                NATION, Page 30

ETHICS

When Spouses Earn Paychecks


As politicians' wives increasingly forge careers of their own,
questions about conflicts of interest inevitably arise

By MARGARET CARLSON -- With reporting by Barbara Burke/New York
and Jeanne McDowell/Los Angeles


    The presidential campaign completed one full revolution
when Bill Clinton found himself standing by his woman on
national television. The moment came during a debate before the
Illinois and Michigan primaries, when rival candidate Jerry
Brown accused the Governor of steering state business to his
wife Hillary's Arkansas law firm. "You," the furious Clinton
replied, "ought to be ashamed of yourself for jumping on my
wife."

    Conflict-of-interest charges are nothing new for political
spouses, especially wives. They are easy to make and hard to
refute, and can obscure a hidden intent to put an uppity woman
in her place. "This is the sort of thing that happens to women
who have their own careers," Hillary Clinton said about charges
that she helped a savings and loan represented by her law firm
to get a break from the state securities board, which is
appointed by her husband. "For goodness' sake, you can't be a
lawyer if you don't represent banks." Clinton was so rattled by
the accusations that she forgot that she hardly ever represents
banks. And before she could convey her conviction that feminism
means the choice for women to work or not, she snapped, "I
suppose I could have stayed home, baked cookies and had teas."

    It is doubtful that Clinton would have blundered into such
a feminist minefield if the charges hadn't struck the
hypersensitive spot inside women who try to make it in a man's
world. Many of them still feel that somehow they haven't made
it on their own or will be dismissed if they step over some
invisible line of appropriate female conduct. This is
particularly touchy in politics, which remains a bastion of
prefeminist expectations, even though more and more politicians'
wives have professional careers. The little wife is still a
Norman Rockwell staple of American campaigns. George Bush is not
joking when he says more people turn out for his appearances
when Barbara Bush accompanies him. Local newspapers are still
filled with stories about the wives of public officials visiting
hospitals and revealing their favorite recipes.

    According to Ruth Mandel of the Center for the American
Woman and Politics at Rutgers University, the unspoken rule of
political life is that a wife will tend to home and family and
be by her husband's side when he runs. Working violates that
rule. Being successful in a primarily male profession shatters
it, as Hillary Clinton is learning. Most legal experts agree
that Clinton took the needed steps to avoid conflicts, by
entering into a virtual prenuptial agreement with her firm that
anticipated every possible pitfall. She does not represent
clients before state agencies, and she refuses her share of the
firm's profits that flow from such work. "She's done everything
that she can reasonably do and still practice law at a top law
firm," says Washington lawyer Marc Miller, author of Politicians
and Their Spouses' Careers. "If you dice her practice up into
any finer points, it severely limits her opportunities to do
what she is eminently qualified to do. It means we don't want
wives tiptoeing anywhere near public life." Lawyer Ruth Harkin,
wife of Senator Tom Harkin, agrees: ``Men don't get this
scrutiny, because it is assumed they deserve their success, but
somehow a wife doesn't."

    Spousal conflict-of-interest charges are usually aimed
against wives for a simple reason: few women hold high public
office that could place their husbands in jeopardy. When Barbara
Morris Lent, wife of New York Congressman Norman Lent, became
a lobbyist for NYNEX, she sought assurance from the House ethics
committee that her job would not interfere with his voting on
communications legislation. When Debbie Dingell, a lobbyist for
General Motors, married Energy and Commerce Committee Chairman
John Dingell, she switched to an administrative position.
"Fortunately," she says, "GM is large enough that I could change
jobs."

    Successful male spouses, on the other hand, often get the
benefit of the doubt, though there are exceptions to the rule.
James Schroeder, whose wife Pat, a Colorado Congresswoman, once
ran for President, says his legal career has not suffered and
he has never been accused of a conflict of interest. But
investment banker Richard Blum, husband of former San Francisco
Mayor Dianne Feinstein, says his firm was hampered because he
turned down some clients to avoid the appearance of impropriety.
"Could I have done better if my wife was home baking cookies?"
asks Blum. "I think so." Another Californian, secretary of
state March Fong Eu, decided to abandon her race for the U.S.
Senate rather than ask her husband to disclose his business
holdings. It came down to a choice between her candidacy and her
marriage, she said, and she chose her marriage.

    Nonprofessional jobs pose as many potential conflicts but
tend to attract less criticism. Marilyn Quayle forswore the
practice of law because she is the Vice President's wife. But
it is hard to believe that she would have been invited to appear
on the Today show to promote her turgid novel, Embrace the
Serpent, if Dan Quayle were just another golf-loving lawyer from
Indiana. Could it be pure coincidence that Greek businessman
Basil Tsakos was paying Mark Hatfield's wife $55,000 for
choosing fabric and paint chips for his office at the same time
the Oregon Senator was urging federal support for Tsakos' $12
billion oil pipeline? Former Washington Mayor Marion Barry's
wife Effie hardly got those fur coats and low-interest loans as
just another "publicist" in a town where nearly everyone fits
that description.

    Still, the political wife who scares people most is
usually a super success like Hillary Clinton, who ranks among
the nation's most powerful lawyers and got better law-school
grades than her husband. Perhaps she would be better off just
trailing beside her husband, holding the Nancy Reagan gaze.
Instead, she is out speaking, spinning and strategizing with as
much force as the candidate. When the networks broadcast the
Super Tuesday victory celebration at the Chicago Hilton, Hillary
Clinton introduced her husband at speech length. She knows the
latest take on the GATT talks and Israeli loan guarantees. Her
appearances are so devoid of the life-style fluff local papers
thrive on that one reporter jokingly complained about "substance
abuse."

    Although campaign officials say that every time Hillary
appears in a state her husband's popularity rises, some of them
fear that she is developing a gender gap. Women may be tougher
on another woman who seems to have it all: a high-powered
career and a family, brains and looks, especially one who has
the mansion, the servants and the drivers to make it look easy.
Anne Reingold, media director of the Democratic National
Committee, has a retrograde explanation: "All the men I know
want to sleep with her. All the women want to scratch her eyes
out."

    Politics is highly susceptible to backlash, and
trailblazers do not often win popularity contests. But women who
want more choices should think hard about being harsher on
Hillary Clinton than they would be on a Barbara Bush. If the
only nonconflict profession for a presidential spouse is no
profession at all, many people might give up their career so
that a spouse could seek office without raising questions of
impropriety. Or potential candidates for any high office might
not run, rather than ask their mates to give up a rewarding job.
If that prospect forces a re-examination of the issue, it may
soon be possible for politicians' spouses to work outside the
home without arousing suspicions -- even if home is the White
House.