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Power Behind the Thrown Nominee: Activist With Score to Settle
Washington Post
June 6, 1993, Sunday, Final Edition
First section, page A-11
Michael Isikoff, Washington Post Staff Writer
It was barely two months ago over a casual dinner at the Jefferson
Hotel that conservative activist Clint Bolick first got the tip on
Lani Guinier: An academic friend had heard that President Clinton
would nominate a "very radical" law professor to head the Justice
Department's Civil Rights Division.
"Clint, you're going to love her," political theorist Abigail
Thernstrom recalled telling Bolick, who at that point had never heard
of the prospective nominee.
Those words proved more prophetic than Bolick, 35, could have
imagined. A cheerful, ideologically committed former Reagan
administration official, Bolick had been looking for the chance to
turn the tables on the organized civil rights lobby ever since they
roughed up his close friend Clarence Thomas two years ago during his
nomination to the Supreme Court.
With Guinier, he smelled blood. As co-founder of the
"libertarian-oriented" Institute for Justice, Bolick immediately
started boning up on Guinier's law review articles, zeroing in on
controversial passages that had barely been noticed by the senior
White House staff. By the time Guinier's nomination was announced on
April 29, Bolick recalled last week, "We were ready to hit the ground
running."
The result was a successful "idea-oriented" campaign spearheaded by
Bolick that, in the eyes of many participants, made a significant
contribution to Guinier's demise. Working out of a small suite of
offices across the street from the Justice Department, Bolick and
colleague Chip Mellor became what they call "information central" for
the Guinier battle, running up thousands of dollars in photocopying
bills as they distributed more than 100 copies of her articles to key
Senate staff aides, journalists, editorial writers and other "opinion
leaders."
They also produced a drumbeat of press releases, reports and op- ed
articles that portrayed the University of Pennsylvania law professor
as a pro-quota, left-wing "extremist" bent on undermining democratic
principles -- labels that stuck and helped frame the debate over the
Guinier nomination in terms that made it difficult for her allies to
recover.
While not even Bolick contends he won over moderate and liberal
Democrats, who also expressed qualms about some of Guinier's views,
his efforts "sent out an early warning light to some of the most
troublesome aspects of Guinier's writings," said Stuart Taylor Jr., a
columnist for the Legal Times who also editorialized against the
nominee and received material from Bolick. While emphasizing that he
did not share much of Bolick's conservative critique, Taylor said that
Bolick "kept the ball rolling and kept the pressure on. . . . I think
he had some influence."
In recent days, liberal interest groups, reeling from their defeat,
have blasted Bolick, describing him as a right-wing zealot who
distorted Guinier's views beyond recognition.
But as he returned to his office the morning after the White House
announced Guinier's withdrawal, a broadly smiling Bolick could
scarcely believe his good fortune. It hadn't been Senate Minority
Leader Robert J. Dole (R-Kan.) or his old boss in the Reagan
administration, former civil rights chief William Bradford Reynolds,
who had described Guinier's writings as "anti- democratic" and
"difficult to defend." It was President Clinton.
"It obviously feels really good because our views have been
vindicated," said Bolick.
While few Democrats in Congress would share that analysis, Bolick's
campaign and the fight over the Guinier nomination graphically
illustrate that the bloody ideologicial wars which marked judicial and
some Justice Department nominations during the Reagan and Bush
administrations are almost certain to continue.
At the same time that Bolick was leading the charge against Guinier,
for example, other conservative activists at Paul Weyrich's Coalitions
for America also had taken up the cudgel, tapping into a vast
grass-roots network in an effort to drum up opposition to the nominee.
Phyllis Berry Myers, another veteran of the Thomas fight who now
serves as a policy analyst for the Free Congress Foundation, said her
group did "a lot of phoning and telefaxing" about Guinier and featured
the case against her on National Empowerment Television, a recently
formed satellite television network headed by William J. Bennett that
promotes conservative causes.
But Bolick, who worked loosely with the Weyrich group in plotting
strategy, says such efforts are nothing new. It was the liberal
interest groups that pioneered such lobbying during the defeat of the
Supreme Court nomination of Robert H. Bork and unsuccessfully during
the Thomas confirmation process.
"There's no question that in terms of tactics, the playbook was
written by the left and we're playing by the rules of the game
established over the last 12 years," he said. "And that is focusing on
crucial philosophical issues and moving swiftly to frame the debate."
A 1982 graduate of the University of California at Davis, Bolick came
to Washington as an assistant at the Equal Employment Opportunity
Commission and forged a close friendship with then- chairman Thomas,
who is the godfather to his youngest son. "He's one of my mentors," he
said.
After a stint in the Reagan Justice Department, Bolick said he has
devoted most of his energies to "economic liberty" causes that
transcend ideological lines. His Institute for Justice, for example,
has attacked local economic regulations, such as taxicab monopolies,
that it believes hinder minorities. In 1989, Bolick won a landmark
lawsuit on behalf of a black entrepreneur in the District, overturning
a law that banned outdoor shoeshine stands.
Bolick does not easily fit the right-wing pigeonhole in which his
adversaries have placed him. "We work very hard to establish
nontraditional alliances," he said. "We're not your typical
conservative interest group."
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