Here in France, there’s a long-running tradition of prime ministers assuming the role of Fall Guy (and yes, with only one exception, they’ve all been male) for their presidents.
When crisis strikes, as it often does in France, it’s the Man at Matignon (the PM’s official residence) who’s dispatched to do damage control – with all the predictable consequences for his popularity ratings.
In the United States, which lacks such a Gallic-style governing duopoly, no single cabinet minister acts as a shock-absorber for the president’s pratfalls.
But if there were a candidate for the title, it might be the embattled US Treasury Secretary, Timothy Geithner.
The firestorm over AIG - and the government's broader handling of the financial crisis – is putting US President Barack Obama's economic policy under ever sharper scrutiny. Recent polls suggest that Obama’s aura of invincibility is just that – an aura.
But some of the fiercest criticism is being levelled at Geithner; some are even questioning his suitability for the job.
That the ranks of the anti-Geithner brigade continue to swell is hardly shocking. As Treasury Secretary, Geithner is the guy responsible for managing the day-to-day dynamics of the financial bailout. And when things go wrong on the frontlines, he’s the first official to take enemy fire.
Adding to his woes is the fact that, in his previous job as president of the New York Federal Reserve, he was prominently involved in some of the most controversial financial decisions of the former Bush administration – including letting Lehman Brothers fail.
Guilt by association?
Of course, Geithner didn’t make the calls himself, in a vacuum. And he may have even disagreed with many of the final calls. It’s also clear that he had to contend with many other influential voices, including that of Fed chief Ben Bernanke.
But the mere association of Geithner as someone who was there all along – playing a big role in economic policymaking from Day One of the subprime crisis – means he came to the Treasury job with heavy baggage.
And things have hardly gotten any easier since. Geithner has what some call an impossible task. As Time magazine points out, he's the man charged with saving the banks, at a time when many Americans are furious with them. Some polls, the newsweekly notes, show that Americans are against bank bailouts by 2 to 1. In this climate, the holder of a job that entails propping up a bunch of people seen as the root of all financial evil, is unlikely to garner much sympathy.
Geithner is now at a critical juncture. You'll remember that his original bank plan, unveiled on February 10, was given a big thumbs down by Wall Street and many ordinary Americans. It was castigated as short on details, and overly vague.
Geithner himself came across, to many, as a wooden and wonkish technocrat.
Now Geither is set, later this week, to roll out a more detailed plan for taking toxic assets off banks' balance sheets. The key to the plan is expected to be the creation of a bad bank to mop up assets that no ordinary investor will buy - inviting private investors to join the government in taking on that unsavory task.
The AIG rot
Wall Street will be scrutinizing the plan for signs of feasibility. To many, the entire thing already smacks of denial. Why not just get on with it and do the inevitable – which is to nationalize the banks that can be saved – while letting others that can’t, fail.
Against this backdrop, the AIG affair only underlines all the rot at the heart of the current crisis.
The New York Times reports that the White House and the Treasury are facing a barrage of questions as to why Geithner didn’t know about this bonus bonanza earlier, and try to halt it in its tracks?
In his defense, even if he had known, Geithner’s hands may have been tied, since the bonuses were part of a legal contract.
The White House, meanwhile, says Geithner has more than Obama's complete confidence.
But as we’ve seen throughout this financial crisis, confidence – and trust – are commodities that can vanish overnight if things take a turn for the worse.












