Mrs. Clinton is no Iron Lady

The effortlessly brilliant Peggy Noonan has compared her vileness, Mrs. Clinton, to the real Iron Lady, Margaret Thatcher, and found the former lacking.

In fact, she wasn't so much a woman as a lady. I remember a gentleman who worked with her speaking of her allure, how she'd relax after a late-night meeting and you'd walk by and catch just the faintest whiff of perfume, smoke and scotch. She worked hard and was tough. One always imagined her lightly smacking some incompetent on the head with her purse, for she carried a purse, as a lady would. She is still tough. A Reagan aide told me that after she was incapacitated by a stroke she flew to Reagan's funeral in Washington, went through the ceremony, flew with Mrs. Reagan to California for the burial, and never once on the plane removed her heels. That is tough.

The point is the big ones, the real ones, the Thatchers and Indira Gandhis and Golda Meirs and Angela Merkels, never play the boo-hoo game. They are what they are, but they don't use what they are. They don't hold up their sex as a feint: Why, he's not criticizing me, he's criticizing all women! Let us rise and fight the sexist cur.

Ms. Noonan goes on the write about the reaction we've seen to Mrs. Clinton's whining and her change of tactics in playing the "can't hit a girl" card. And she captures Lady Thatcher beautifully. I recommend a read.