Editorial: Isn't it a shame about Bill Clinton?

He could have been a contender for greatness, a President mentioned in the same breath as his idol, Franklin Delano Roosevelt. But that stamp will be denied Bill Clinton when he vacates the White House. Even eight years of unparalleled prosperity cannot undo the damage wrought by his sexual peccadilloes. History may judge those transgressions as no worse, and probably more trivial, than the many an indulgence by the political elite. It may even judge it symptomatic of an era's quirky morals that the Monica Lewinsky scandal led to his successful defence of impeachment proceedings. For now, however, the scandal blights his legacy.

That will be particularly galling for Mr Clinton, a President who, more than most, had an eye on his place in history. Equally exasperating would be the claims that, while he is a politician virtually without peer, he was a man of little substance. His political gifts were, indeed, astounding. New Zealanders were among those seduced by his remarkable knack of getting people to like him. The same gift persuaded Americans to forgive him. Even a nauseating self-righteousness was excused.

The upshot is that he leaves office with a public approval rating higher than any other 20th-century President. There was, however, much more to Mr Clinton. He came to office promising "to renew America." Judged by that yardstick, his eight years were an outstanding success.

In 1992, the omens were not necessarily favourable. The Reagan-Bush Administrations had left the American economy perilously positioned. Within a year of Mr Clinton's taking office, spending cuts and tax rises had brought the federal budget deficit into line. If credit for the subsequent economic boom cannot be laid at his door, he at least had the good sense to strike up a hugely beneficial relationship with Alan Greenspan, the Federal Reserve chairman.

There were, of course, failings, both on the domestic front and in foreign policy. Rarely, however, was there a lack of ambition. A national healthcare scheme was high on the list of priorities. But if Mr Clinton imagined that, unlike a succession of Democrat Presidents, he could win over special interest groups, he was soon disappointed. Like many before him, he also tried and failed to bring a lasting peace to the Middle East. Strenuous efforts right down to his final days in the White House suggested he believed this could be his crowning achievement. All he got was a crown of thorns.

Mr Clinton, however, could not be denied success in other parts of the globe. He played a key role in bringing peace to Northern Ireland. Most significantly, perhaps, he chided and cajoled Nato to end Serbian genocide in Kosovo. Such initiatives will probably not be readily repeated by George W. Bush's incoming Administration.

Such successes did not come by chance. Those who characterise Mr Clinton as a charming moron overlook his capacity for hard work and attention to detail. Most of his policies had a good measure of substance because every avenue was explored while they were being formulated. If Mr Clinton was the smoothest of politicians, he was empty-headed in only one respect.

That attention to detail was, of course, one of the reasons Americans were prepared to excuse him his sexual foibles. Indeed, his command of policy is such that it is difficult to believe he will not continue to hold court on the world stage in some shape or form. His wish to fashion a more agreeable legacy may demand as much.

To Mr Clinton may fall the lot of globetrotting peacemaker, a role filled occasionally in the past by Jimmy Carter, another President who once offended American sensibilities. Mr Carter's mistake was to admit that he had "looked on a lot of women with lust" and "committed adultery in his heart many times." The comments hastened Mr Carter's downfall and provided a warning to any other American politician.

Given Mr Clinton's blatant, and arrogant, disregard of that message, it is all the more remarkable that he not only survived but, finally, found a way to endear himself to Americans. Not fully, though. The great shame of Mr Clinton and his legacy is that he could not resist putting himself to shame.