Look to Burns, Hillary - even if he was like Bill

Published on Sunday 20 January 2008 21:01

Poet may have been flawed as a man, but his words stirred a nation; politicians should take note

THE bumper sticker "Monica Lewinsky's ex-boyfriend's wife for president" suggests Bill Clinton still has a lot to answer for. And yet, as the former president looms back into focus while Hillary gears up for Super Tuesday, Scotland is also set to focus on a man whose promiscuity led to his impoverishment and downfall.

For better and for worse, Bill Clinton is the modern Rabbie Burns. The "ploughman president" so capable of connecting with the masses, he defied the sceptics and jumped from rural Arkansas straight into the White House. The man with the common touch and the right words for every occasion. The man who made other politicians – even the eloquent Tony Blair – sound wooden and unemotional. The leader who turned any public platform into an escape valve – discussing emotional realities that lesser figures left unspoken and unmanaged.

Clinton: the man with the silver tongue and the feet of clay. There's no need to characterise any other part of his anatomy. Clinton, like Burns, could resist everything but temptation. Especially when it came to sex. Clinton's sexual indiscretions are well documented. Like Burns, it brought him the censure of his peers – not at the Kirk session but facing impeachment in an American court.

And it affected their wives. Jean Armour and Hillary Clinton have both been characterised as unlovable nags and strait-laced women – even though Jean took in one of Burns' illegitimate children. Both women had to look the other way so often it's no wonder Hillary has a problem engaging the camera in her White House campaign. And that's the double-edged sword her philandering husband has given her. He has made her look stupid, unsexy and rejected. But he has also given her a profile. And if there really is no such thing as bad publicity in this sensation-hungry world, he may even have done her a political service.

But at what cost? Clinton's infidelity has helped to turn Hillary into a public automaton. And for those who think the former First Lady could easily "learn to relax", a scene from Love Actually is instructive. Emma Thompson – who starred as Hillary Clinton in Primary Colours – plays a woman two-timed by her husband.

In Love Actually, she realises a beautiful necklace in her husband's pocket is not intended for her – and Thompson's portrayal of the wronged, middle-aged wife is heartbreaking. Bent over double, gasping for air, staring wildly around the room as if she might find an exit from her dilemma and finding none – Thompson then "pulls herself together" to emerge smiling at her kids.

We've seen the painted smile of tormented public figures a million times. We've never seen the tears. Until New Hampshire. It's suggested that vote swung Hillary's way because America's "Iron Lady" relaxed (perhaps deliberately) to show weakness.

Now that's quite an achievement. A high-profile, wronged woman appearing weak in public is positively pioneering – calculated or not. If Hillary wins, she will have devised a way to overcome perfectionism and be a real, rounded, wounded woman – not a Superwoman – in public life. And she may progress to reclaim the ultimate human right: the right to be wrong in public.

Perfectionism is a particularly female curse. Women read a job ad, see one thing they cannot do and fail to apply. Men look at a job ad, see the one thing they can do and apply. Conscious of always being second best, women become preoccupied with appearing perfect. It rarely works.

Which is why I think Burns was a feminist. He may have shared what was worst about Clinton, but Burns preferred brain to brawn and bequeathed his nation the gift of words. Thanks to Burns, a nation of silent Scotsmen can speak. Like a national Cyrano de Bergerac, the bard translated hopes and feelings into the most powerful forms of expression. Those words and songs still shape Scotland's identity.

Auld Lang Syne defines Hogmanay as a time for neighbourliness and family the world over. A Man's A Man For A' That coaxed the strait-laced Holyrood opening ceremony into life. Seeing themselves as ithers see them inspired the Tartan Army into good behaviour abroad.

The Scots language may be in formal retreat and song is disparaged by serious folk as girly and fey. But Burns' legacy has given us a package in which we can sweep up and experience our best selves. He created word bridges between the fields and the Gods. He saw connections between the treatment of a mouse and the treatment of a distant nation at war. Where is that kind of language now? Scottish writers continue to express our hopes and fears powerfully. But do public figures provide those sudden, heady, hope-creating connections? Where is the 21st century's Burns?

For one week only, this macho country will tune back into Burns to reconnect with our best selves and our most precious aspirations. But what about next week? And the week after? It takes effort and courage to find the mot juste that heightens and normalises feeling through public expression – day after day. Finding the pulse, endlessly, as Burns did, is hard. Standing flawed before the public is hard. But we need politicians who don't just wring their hands about grunting kids, grunting all the while themselves with incomprehensible banality about stakeholder this and going forward that.

We need politicians who know they are custodians of power, not owners of it. And who – like Burns – value the power of language above all else. Politicians who dare to speak as they think and feel.

As we start 2008, here's a hopeful toast – to Scotland.