Yes, she had actual line responsibility, in the first two years of his presidency - a time of dismal failure. But her role from late 1995 to 1997 was scarcely more than a traditional first lady's: She toured the country, wrote books, cut ribbons and traveled the world.

Even her return to a role of power - when the Lewinsky scandal all but closed down the Clinton presidency at the start of 1998 - was only in the realm of damage control, not as a formulator of public policy. Then, the final year of Bill's tenure saw her absorbed in her own Senate campaign, no longer much interested in 1600 Pennsylvania Ave., except as a springboard.

But now her candidacy's focus on "experience" has backed Hillary into a campaign of dissembling to reinvent her White House rol e - a series of ever-grander boasts that more and more defy credibility: First, she was at her husband's side as he balanced the budget. Then, she became a principal architect of his economic policies, the secret catalyst of the Irish peace process and the face of the administration's foreign policy.

All this posturing not only makes her look fake - but weaker by the day, too: Why is this strong woman hiding behind her husband's record, rather than focusing on her own?

All this artifice accomplishes is to win control of the rearview mirror in an election where voters want to look out of the windshield. She's now positioned in the wrong place in the wrong primary. It's Republicans who vote for experience - Democrats vote for change.

Bill Clinton is now running around Iowa trying to sell Hillary as the "agent of change," but he is fighting against the long-term theme of her campaign in making Hillary the candidate of experience. And how can a former president, whose very presence is identified with a bygone era, convince us that his wife is now the candidate of the new age?

What genius thought up this strategy?