RobertEmmet

By Robert Schlesinger

Fifty-some-odd pages into What Happened, two anecdotes leap out at me as interesting/illustrative.

McClellan recounts on p46 how during his presidential campaigns, Bush would tease traveling staff by asking at the end of the day if they were tired. If he got an affirmative he would tell onlookers how tired the staffer was, what a hard day he had had. Then he would turn back to his victim: “How many speeches did you give today? How many hands did you shake?”

McClellan presents this as Bush keeping the mood light, and it fits with his reputation for being a needler with a frat bent to his humor. But the underlying message — this isn’t about you, it’s about me and how hard I’m working — is particularly unattractive.

Later (pp48-49) McClellan recounts overhearing Bush tell a contributor that he honestly couldn’t remember whether or not he had snorted cocaine during his wild, party years.

I remember thinking to myself, How can that be? How can someone simply not remember whether or not they used an illegal sustance like cocaine? It didn’t make a lot of sense.

Indeed. McClellan goes on to note that Bush never tells a direct lie.

I know Bush, and I know he genuinely believes what he says. He isn’t the kind of person to flat-out lie, particularly when speaking in private to a supporter or friend.

McClellan’s explanation?

In the years to come, as I worked closely with President Bush, I would come to believe that sometimes he convinces himself to believe what suits his needs at the moment.

Most critical Bush-watchers will find this easily plausible, but sit and absorb this for a moment: He’s saying that the president can so convince himself of something as to incorporate it into his own memories. Don’t want to remember tooting the white powder? No problem, memory erased (like so many White House emails).

This is … scary shit.