What do you do if you're an ambitious second-in-command serving an equally ambitious leader? How do you assert yourself without overstepping?
As the U.S. presidential election loomed in 1992, many of the leading Democratic party candidates bowed out, in part because they expected Republican incumbent George H.W. Bush to cruise to reelection given his popularity in the wake of Operation Desert Storm, which successfully expelled Iraqi military forces from Kuwait. Arkansas governor Bill Clinton, who was not well-known outside his relatively small state and who faced allegations of sexual misconduct during the primaries, won the Democratic nomination, but he was initially considered a weak and unlikely candidate.
Bush ultimately fumbled away his advantages, and Clinton won the Electoral College 370 to 168 and the popular vote by 43 percent to 37 percent (with an assist from business leader and independent candidate Ross Perot, who captured 19 percent). But for a time Clinton was viewed as a long-shot, which put added pressure on his selection of a vice-presidential running mate. In July 1992 he chose Tennessee senator Al Gore, who provided the Clinton campaign with a number of advantages.
Gore had placed third in the 1988 Democratic primaries, had served in the Senate since 1985, and before that had served in the House since 1977. Gore's father had also been a U.S. senator, and Gore Jr. was intimately familiar with the workings of Washington D.C. And while Gore was less personable than the charismatic Clinton, he was seen by many as having more gravitas and credibility. After graduating from college, Gore had enlisted in the U.S. Army and served in Vietnam, when it would have been easy to avoid doing so, in contrast to Clinton, who had evaded the draft through means that some perceived as deceptive. [1]
So as the 1992 campaign moved into its final stages, Clinton was more dependent on Gore than the typical presidential candidate, and Gore brought more prestige to the role of vice-presidential running mate than many of his predecessors and was widely viewed as more authoritative than Dan Quayle, Bush's vice-president. This sets the stage for an incident that is little-remembered today, but which has continued relevance for any second-in-command who must manage the complexity of a leadership role that is both senior and subordinate.
On July 9, 1992, the day that Clinton was to announce that Gore would be his running mate, the two of them were preparing for the subsequent news conference by facing live questions from an audience of staffers. Journalists Michael Kelly and Maureen Dowd describe the moment in an extensive article published the day of Clinton and Gore's inauguration in 1993:
Having come to the relationship bearing a great gift, Gore was always determined to be treated with appropriate respect. He made the point in the Governor's mansion, the morning of July 9, as he and Clinton were rehearsing for the joint news conference they would soon hold to announce that Gore was joining the ticket. An aide, acting as reporter, threw out a question accusing Gore of being an environmental extremist.
Gore answered, but then Clinton cautioned, "We don't want to come off like a bunch of Greenpeace warriors."
Gore, the author of a best-selling psycho-environmental polemic, "Earth in the Balance," shot back: "What do you mean we, kemo sabe?"
After a tense moment, Clinton began to laugh, then everyone else did, too. From that day on, Clinton and Gore...[handed] off the microphone to each other on stage, picking up each other's points... While George Bush campaigned with rarely a mention of Dan Quayle's name, Clinton used Gore to great advantage, employing him to lead the attack on the Bush Administration's prewar coziness with Saddam Hussein, and to serve as ambassador to Jewish and environmental groups. [2]
The term "kemo sabe," pronounced KEE-mo SAH-bee, may require some further context. "The Lone Ranger" was a popular fictional character on radio and television shows of that name in the U.S. from the 1930s through the 1960s and would have been a familiar figure to both Clinton and Gore. A lawman who pursued outlaws in the Old West of the 19th century, the Lone Ranger was accompanied by a Native American character named Tonto, who often addressed his colleague as "kemo sabe." In the context of the show this is taken to mean "faithful friend" or "trusty scout" and may--or may not--be derived from an actual Native American term. [3]
There are several layers to this exchange between Clinton and Gore that merit analysis. First, this was neither an on-the-record press conference with a crowd of reporters, nor a private discussion between the two of them. It was a semi-public event before a select group of people who supported the Democratic ticket but who were also primarily loyal to either Clinton or Gore. (It seems reasonable to assume that someone on Gore's staff related the incident to Kelly and Dowd.)
Would Gore have made the same comment in front of the press or members of the public? Very unlikely--that may have been perceived as an overt challenge to Clinton's status as leader and called Gore's loyalty into question. But it's significant that Gore didn't wait until he and Clinton were alone to speak up--he took full advantage of the semi-public setting to voice his concerns in the moment.
The addition of "kemo sabe" to Gore's comment is also telling. While the character of Tonto is often described as a "sidekick" to the Lone Ranger, he chose to accompany the lawman of his own volition and was by no means a dependent or vassal. [4] Gore's usage of the term signifies a similarly complex relationship with Clinton.
As the winner of the Democratic nomination--a goal Gore had failed to achieve four years earlier--Clinton was undeniably the ranking member of the pair, and Gore was the "sidekick." But by speaking up as he did and appending "kemo sabe," Gore sent a subtle but clear message: I acknowledge your seniority, but my deference has its limits. I'm willing to be a sidekick, but don't take my assent for granted.
And the unexpected use of "kemo sabe" by Gore, who had a formal and stiff communication style, allowed Clinton to save face. The Arkansas governor was known to have a volcanic temper, and the "tense moment" described by Kelly and Dowd must have been tense indeed. If Gore had simply said, "What do you mean we?"--full stop--it's conceivable that Clinton would not have laughed, and the situation might have turned out quite differently. But Gore's use of the phrase was the verbal equivalent of a wink and a smile, enabling Clinton to respond with laughter without seeming weak. [5]
This minor episode from decades ago may be nearly forgotten today, but I believe it remains instructive for any second-in-command who finds themselves facing a similar challenge. What lessons might we draw from it?
- Speak up... If Gore hadn't spoken up before a group of observers, he would have missed an important opportunity to assert himself and challenge Clinton.
- But pick your spots... If Gore had spoken up in an actual press conference or similarly public setting, he would have undermined both Clinton and himself.
- And a little humor goes a long way. While it's unlikely that "kemo sabe" would be perceived as funny today--or even understood--it was funny to Bill Clinton in 1992, and that made all the difference.
While Gore deserves credit for his handling of this specific situation, he also made a number of missteps. Gore enjoyed his greatest leverage during the window between his selection by Clinton and the campaign's victory in November, but his influence waned during the transition between the Bush and Clinton administrations, as Kelly and Dowd observed:
"[Gore is] getting more and more stiff because he's cognizant of the fact that, as the Administration expands, his power contracts," says one Gore friend... During the transition, Susan Thomases, Clinton's scheduler and a close friend of Mrs. Clinton's, told associates that Gore did not understand that, once the Administration got under way, he would have to adjust to a smaller role. He could make it easy, Thomases said, or he could make it hard. [6]
If you're a second-in-command, you're undoubtedly aware that some power is given, and it exists as a function of A) your role and B) your relationship with your leader. Gore's power was always going to be limited by the ambiguous nature of the vice-presidency and the complexity of his relationship with the mercurial Clinton. But it's equally true that some power is taken, and it exists as a function of your behavior. In this instance, at least, Gore's willingness to assert himself paid off, and you will certainly face similar opportunities to do the same.
Footnotes
[1] For more on Bill Clinton and the Vietnam War draft, see Dodging the Draft and Bill Clinton's "Red Scare" (Larry Sabato, Washington Post, 1998) and Clinton's Draft Deferment (CNN, 1997).
[2] The Company He Keeps (Michael Kelly and Maureen Dowd, The New York Times, January 17, 1993)
[3] For more on the term "kemo sabe," see What Do You Mean "Kemosabe," Kemosabe? (Aisha Harris, Slate, 2013) and What Does 'Kemo Sabe' Really Mean? (Fran Striker, Jr., Old-Time Radio).
[4] The portrayal of Native Americans in the original Lone Ranger series is generally viewed today as demeaning, and use of the term "kemo sabe" even led to a court case in Canada: Lone Ranger’s 'kemosabe' not racist, court says (Reuters/NBC News, 2004). Despite the outcome of that case, I'm mindful of the fact that the representation of Tonto as a "sidekick" evokes a long history of offensive stereotypes of Native Americans, powerfully described by Sherman Alexie, author of the short-story collection The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven:
In the movies, Indians are always accompanied by ominous music. And I’ve seen so many Indian movies that I feel like I’m constantly accompanied by ominous music. I always feel that something bad is about to happen. I am always aware of how my whole life is shaped by my hatred of Tonto. Whenever I think of Tonto, I hear ominous music... I mean, I knew I could never be as brave, as strong, as wise, as visionary, as white as the Indians in the movies. I was just one little Indian boy who hated Tonto because Tonto was the only cinematic Indian who looked like me. (I Hated Tonto (Still Do), Los Angeles Times, June 28, 1998)
[5] Whether deliberate or inadvertent, Gore's comment references a cartoon in Mad Magazine, a satirical periodical aimed primarily at precocious youth. This particular cartoon was published in 1958, when Clinton and Gore were 12 and 10 years old, respectively, and is described by Brian Cronin:
The Lone Ranger and Tonto are watching a horde of Indian braves bear down on them in full battle fury. "Looks like we're in trouble, Tonto," says the Lone Ranger to his pal. "What you mean 'we,' white man?," Tonto responds. (Comic Book Legends Revealed #329, Comic Book Resources, 2011)
This cartoon is also described in an extensive Narkive discussion thread and is reproduced in a tweet by Andrei Cherny, who thoughtfully brought it to my attention after I first published this post. In the reproduction shared by Cherney, the dialogue differs slightly from Cronin's description:
The Lone Ranger: Indians! Indians all around us! Well, Tonto, ol' kimosavee [sic], it looks like we're finished!
Tonto: What you mean...WE?
[6] Kelly and Dowd, 1993
For Further Reading
Power Struggles Among Nice People
Underdoing It and Overdoing It (Assertiveness Over Time)
Photo of Bill Clinton and Al Gore via the NARA and DVIDS Public Domain Archive.
