WHAT MAKES CLINTON TICK

Difficult childhood, position of power and a drive to compartmentalize his
actions

The questions about the nature of President Clinton's relationship with a
young White House intern are being asked in countless ways, but they all
come down to this: Why?

If Clinton did what he is alleged to have done, why would he do it? If he
did it, why would he jeopardize his presidency? If he did it, why would he,
an inherently cautious politician with an obvious need for public
affirmation, follow such a risky and careless private path?

This article, based on hundreds of interviews conducted over the past six
years and supplemented by discussions with historians, psychiatrists and
psychologists, is an examination of Clinton's history and personality in
search of answers to those questions. It does not attempt to sort out the
truth of the allegations he now faces but offers a deeper context in which
the current controversy can be considered.

Repetitive patterns

Although history is never totally predictive, and human nature even less
so, in Clinton's case the patterns seem eerily familiar. There are
repetitive cycles in Clinton's life and recurring traits in his character
that go a long way toward anticipating what he will do and, afterward,
explaining why he did it.

The repetitive patterns of Clinton's personality become apparent starting
with his childhood in a troubled family in small-town Arkansas. The traits
that first surfaced then include his tendency to block things out, to
compartmentalize aspects of his life, to deny reality at times, to keep
going no matter what obstacles face him, and to feel a constant hunger for
affirmation.

Other traits are familiar to historians and psychiatrists as the generic
characteristics of many powerful and ambitious men. These include an
enormous appetite for life, a powerful sex drive, the ready availability of
sexual partners attracted to power, a lack of normal standards of
self-control, an addiction to the privileges of public office and a
reliance on aides to shield him from public scrutiny of private behavior.

These characteristics serve contradictory purposes, historians and
psychiatrists say, fueling Clinton's rise to power at the same time that
they have threatened it. In his cycle of loss and recovery, the traits that
account for his success are inseparable from the ones that provoke failure.

And because this constant cycle of last-minute recovery from seemingly
inevitable disaster has so far ended successfully, with the realization of
his lifelong dream not just to be president but a two-term president,
Clinton has further developed another trait common among powerful and
successful men: the self-delusion of invincibility.

It was that characteristic, perhaps above all others, according to
Washington psychiatrist E. James Lieberman, that might have overtaken
Clinton if the allegations are true that he had a sexual relationship with
former White House intern Monica Lewinsky.

``It reminds me of the Titanic,'' Lieberman said. ``Lots of power. Big.
Sexy. Thinks he's invulnerable, like the builders of the ship. And here is
this 21-year-old iceberg.''

That is not to say that the allegations about Clinton's sexual behavior
will sink him -- they never have. Before this latest episode, opinion polls
showed that voters cared far less about his private life than his
performance in office, which they considered effective enough to elect him
to a second term.

Clinton's political career has been prematurely buried before, most
notably six Januarys ago when his nascent presidential campaign was
besieged with reports that he had dodged the draft and slept with Gennifer
Flowers. And there is one other repetitive pattern in his career that might
redound to his benefit: In times of trouble, he has been aided unwittingly
by his adversaries, who have come across as less sympathetic characters
than Clinton, obsessed only with getting him.

Ignoring unpleasantness

In the chronology of Clinton's life, the earliest recurring trait that
seems relevant to his current dilemma is a tendency toward denial. From an
early age, he developed a capacity to block out unpleasant aspects of his
life. His mother, Virginia, once said that she could block out problems to
the point of denying their existence, and so could her oldest son, a trait
they acquired in response to tumult in the family.

Her second husband and Bill's stepfather, Roger Clinton, who came into
their lives when Bill was 4, was a philandering alcoholic who at times was
verbally and physically abusive. In response, Bill Clinton would pretend
that nothing was wrong, that the trouble did not exist. Many of his
childhood friends said they were in the house every day and had no idea
that Roger Clinton was a violent alcoholic, nor did Bill ever tell them.

The Clintons lived in Hot Springs then, an Arkansas resort town whose very
duality reflected, and in some ways helped shape, the characteristics of
the family. Virtue and sin co-existed there; the largest illegal gambling
operation in the South operated side by side with dozens of Baptist
churches, some of them funded with gambling money.

Judy Ellsworth, the wife of a mayor during Clinton's childhood days, said
the city then was a place where the men ``got away with anything they
wanted to. They all had mistresses. . . . The men had a way of
compartmentalizing their lives. Honesty was never a trait with them. It was
never-never land.''

The characteristics that Clinton carried with him into his adult life from
his family experiences in Hot Springs had both good and bad effects on him
over the years. His capacity to block out and compartmentalize his life --
and to develop a personality in which he could simultaneously accommodate
contradictory thoughts and modes of behavior -- helps explain his optimism
in the face of difficulties and his remarkable ability to recover from
setbacks.

But it also gave him the propensity to drift into his own version of
never-never land: trying to avoid and deny unpleasant facts, ignoring
necessary but unwanted personal advice from friends and advisers, and at
times acting as though they and the problem they wanted to discuss with him
did not exist.

One of the most striking examples of Clinton's tendency toward denial, with
far more important consequences, concerned his sex life and presidential
aspirations. In the summer of 1987, after Gary Hart, the former Colorado
senator, dropped out of the race for the 1988 Democratic presidential
nomination in reaction to allegations of marital infidelity, Clinton
summoned his top advisers to Little Rock and prepared to enter the race
himself.

Rumors of the governor's own extramarital proclivities were again making
the rounds, raising the possibility that he would face the same fate as
Hart. Betsey Wright, his longtime aide in Arkansas, believed that her boss
was refusing to confront his own problem, she said later. She presented him
with a list of women with whom he might have had affairs, went over the
list twice with him to determine which ones might be troublesome if he
entered the presidential race and finally, after the vetting process, urged
him not to run.

Only then, when confronted so directly, unable to block out the problem,
did Clinton back away from the presidential starting line.

He explained to his supporters and the press that he did not think he and
his family were quite ready for a presidential campaign.

Until being dissuaded at the last moment, Clinton believed that he could
get away with something that Hart could not.

Beyond penalties

Political scientist Charles O. Jones, a presidential scholar, said Clinton
came to think of himself as beyond penalty for his sexual behavior, and
from this came hubris. ``It seems that he ran along the edge of what most
of us would judge to be proper for many years there and never really had to
suffer politically for it,'' Jones said.

It is undeniable that Clinton has had an active extramarital sex life since
he married his wife in 1975 -- Clinton himself has admitted as much, and
friends have privately confirmed it. Could it be that he has a sexual
addiction or obsession that overwhelms rational consideration of the public
consequences of his private actions?

The American Psychiatric Association has declined to categorize sexual
addiction as a medical diagnosis, citing a lack of sufficient evidence.
Even defining the problem is difficult. Robert Wise, a Washington-area
psychiatrist who has studied sexual disorders but dismisses the term ``sex
addict'' as a phony and misleading diagnosis, pointed out that a supposedly
celibate priest who is overtaken by the sexual urge once every three months
might seek treatment for obsession, while a man having sex three times a
day might consider himself normal.

In any case, there are many people who suffer from their inability to
control their sexual drive. Brian Doyle, clinical professor of psychiatry
at Georgetown University Medical School, said he sees patients ``in whom
lust overcomes their better judgment -- some people for whom that happens
regularly, no matter what is at stake.''

During at least one period of his life, there is some evidence that Clinton
actively examined his own behavior. He was the governor of Arkansas then,
in the mid-1980s, and his brother, Roger, had been convicted and imprisoned
on drug charges and was being treated for cocaine addiction. As part of his
brother's therapy, Clinton took part in counseling with Roger and their
mother, and occasionally went to a therapist alone. After those sessions,
he discussed the subject of addiction with several friends.

`All addicted to something'

``I think we're all addicted to something,'' he said once. ``Some people
are addicted to drugs. Some to power. Some to food. Some to sex. We're all
addicted to something.''

There was a history of addiction in Clinton's family: His stepfather was
addicted to alcohol, his brother was addicted to cocaine, and his
grandmother, Edith Cassidy, in the final years of her life, was addicted to
morphine.

Whether sex can be an addiction or not, there is ample evidence of powerful
men whose political ambitions seemed matched only by their sexual
appetites. One need look no further than presidents John F. Kennedy and
Lyndon Johnson to find examples among Clinton's predecessors in the White
House. Viewed in the company of those two, Clinton can argue that he faces
an unfair burden. The culture of the times allowed Kennedy and Johnson to
avoid even a minute of public controversy over their sexual behavior.

For political leaders with strong sexual appetites, the availability of
willing partners always seems to be there, by accident or design. From the
moment Clinton became governor in 1979, he was constantly surrounded by
eager women. Rudy Moore, his first chief of staff, said the governor's
office was visited regularly by ``hangers-on who could get you in
trouble.''

From those early days to now, Clinton's aides and advisers, including his
wife, have found themselves working at what might seem to be contradictory
purposes. They have worked strenuously to shield him from his own most
reckless instincts, removing sexual temptations whenever possible.

Protective staff

Whenever sexual allegations about Clinton reached a crisis point during his
days as governor, Hillary Clinton and aide Wright served as his chief
defenders, dismissing stories, attacking accusers, drafting responses,
rallying troops to his cause. Wright spent all of 1992 as a one-woman
damage-control operation, looking for what she called, with typical
sarcasm, ``bimbo eruptions.''

Hillary Clinton's role that year, as always, was even more pivotal.
Political scientists say it is doubtful that Clinton would be president
today if she had not dismissed Gennifer Flowers' claim of having a 12-year
affair with Clinton as something comparable to an Elvis sighting and then
agreed to sit by his side on CBS's ``60 Minutes'' as he acknowledged
earlier ``problems'' in the marriage.

There have been many times during their 23 years of marriage that Hillary
Clinton has expressed intense private anger with her husband's behavior,
according to friends. But her commitment to his politics, to their shared
love of policy, always proved stronger than any urge to turn away from him.

When the latest allegations broke last week, there was immediate
speculation that this time she would have to leave. The repetitive patterns
of their life together suggested otherwise, that she would do what she
began doing Friday morning -- calling all their friends with one more
rallying cry.

Presidential scholar Jones calls all of this ``the protective patina'' -- a
phenomenon that surrounds all political leaders to varying degrees and that
he found particularly apparent in Clinton's history. His wife and other
loyalists have worked tirelessly to get him and themselves to where they
are today, running the country, and to get there they have come to
Clinton's defense again and again.

``Their futures are hooked to this person,'' Jones said.