Two-For-One Campaigns

This news analysis was written by U.S. News & World Report columnist Gloria Borger.

That was then. Now it's all about her, and Bill Clinton is working to become a member of the First Ladies Club. To say the least, he's curious to behold in his new role — struggling to rein in his own star power in order to boost hers; trying to defend his wife without taking ownership of her political spats. But Clinton is hardly the only different kind of spouse out there these days. And it's not about gender; it's about attitude. Sure, the dewy-eyed spousal adoration is still around, but it's hardly dominant. Consider Michelle Obama — who earned more than her husband, was once his supervisor at a Chicago law firm, and who told him, before his now-famous speech at the last Democratic convention, "Just don't screw it up, buddy." Not exactly what Nancy Reagan might have purred to the man she called "Daddy."

Out Of Cookies

No doubt, there's a cultural shift here, although it's hard to define. These days, political spouses can be as benign as a smiling red-carpet date or as deadly as a chief strategist, or both. Indeed, this crop is hardly cookie-cutter; the marriages not exactly Ozzie and Harriet (unless you're Mitt and Ann Romney). Most of the top Republican candidates have been hitched a couple of times. Rudy and Judith Giuliani alone have six marriages between them — although somehow she forgot about her first one early on in the campaign. (Don't you hate when that happens?) Fred Thompson, who is likely to announce his candidacy next month, is 24 years older than his wife. Not that there's anything wrong with that; what's really controversial is that she is also an influential campaign adviser. So, too, is Cindy McCain, who has evolved from a reluctant road warrior in campaign 2000 into a member of the 2008 inner circle.

Then there's Elizabeth Edwards, who has taken the role of spouse to a new level of co-candidacy. In many ways, she has almost become the dominant figure in John Edwards' run. First, the couple announced that the campaign would continue, despite her breast cancer recurrence. Since then, she's stirred the pot, taking on his critics, even calling Hillary Clinton "not as vocal a women's advocate" as her husband. (A characterization, by the way, that spouse Bill Clinton quickly disputed. "I defy you to find anybody who has run for office in recent history who's got a longer record of working for women ... than Hillary does.") As for Elizabeth Edwards' further contention that Hillary might be avoiding women's issues to "behave as a man," well, that was just too much for Bill. "I don't think it's inconsistent with being a woman that you can also be knowledgeable on military and security affairs ...." he argued. "I don't consider that manly. I consider that being a leader." Take that, Elizabeth. And be careful: You, too, can overshadow your partner.

Dueling spouses is more than an amusement, although it can be that. It's also another way to evaluate the candidates. Maybe voters don't expect — or even want — the quiet spouse anymore. But don't we still want to see a first couple we can understand and accept as healthy? Sure. If voters like what they see, it won't hurt. But if they look at a relationship that makes them uncomfortable, it's bound to be a disadvantage. Just ask the Clintons.

That's why, when stories appear about the rocky relationship between Judith Giuliani and Rudy's kids, the Giuliani campaign cringes. It really winced last week when an unflattering Vanity Fair piece portrayed Mrs. Giuliani as a political Cruella De Ville. On the other hand, it's no coincidence that the Romneys — married for 38 years, with five sons and 10 grandchildren — are a family campaign team, with Ann making it clear that "motherhood was my career." Now she's applying for another job. In 2008, voters may decide to accept the notion of "buy one, get one free" — but they still want to know, and like, what they're getting.

By Gloria Borger