Washington ? When President Bush signed the McCain-Feingold campaign-finance-reform bill last year, he did so without fanfare. There was no Rose Garden ceremony, no commemorative statement, no smiling exchange of pens and handshakes, no photo op. Bush seems to have affixed his signature to the bill in the privacy of his office, and made it law without fuss.

At the time, this violation of legislative protocol was ascribed to churlishness. Most Republicans in Congress had vigorously opposed the measure, and the president, while pledging to sign any bill that crossed his desk, had done nothing to help it. Moreover, the bill was the brainchild of Sen. John McCain, R-Ariz., Bush’s principal rival in the 2000 GOP primaries. President Bush, it was said, could not bring himself to showcase his old antagonist’s crowning achievement.

While I was disappointed at the time that the president hadn’t vetoed the measure, I understood the politics of the situation. Thanks largely to uncritical press coverage, McCain-Feingold was very popular, and Bush might well have seen his veto overridden — a needless embarrassment. There is a perception that money is decisively influential in politics, and that such influence must be Bad. Accordingly, any measure that severely limits the ability of Big Oil or Special Interests to bankroll politicians (mostly Republican) or support legislation (mostly conservative) must be Good.

The problem is that this perception is, at the least, highly suspect. The influence of money is finite: Helpful, but scarcely decisive. Measures hostile to well-heeled special interests are regularly passed in Congress, and lavishly funded campaigns against bills are often defeated. Jon Corzine’s millions probably elected him to the Senate from New Jersey, but Michael Huffington’s millions couldn’t catapult him into the Senate from California. Politics is full of principles and variables.

Another misperception is the nature of political money. McCain-Feingold bans soft money — that is, unlimited, largely unreguluated contributions to party committees from unions, corporations and rich donors — but doubles the limit that individuals can make to federal candidates (from $1,000 to $2,000). And contrary to what most people think, the Democrats specialize in soft money and Republicans in hard money.

The gnomes at Common Cause may believe that the system is drowning in soft money for Republicans from malicious corporations, but almost exactly the opposite is true. It is the Democrats who have persuaded labor unions to transfer huge amounts of members’ dues to party coffers.

So, from a practical Republican standpoint, President Bush knew what he was doing when he signed McCain-Feingold. Having been shell-shocked by last November’s elections, the Democrats now find themselves at a perilous disadvantage in fund raising. Not only have the old soft-money sources been outlawed, but the growth of hard-money contributions is declining. For the Republicans, the reverse is true: Not so dependent on soft money, they have dramatically fattened their hard-money coffers, and the disparity between the party treasuries grows wider every day.

Then there is George W. Bush. Running for president as governor of Texas, he raised an unprecedented $100 million in hard money — that is, from small contributors — when the individual limit was $1,000. That limit has now been doubled, thanks to McCain-Feingold, and the cash is pouring in. It is widely believed that the president might well enter next election year with $300 million to $400 million on hand — and no foes in his party — while Democratic candidates accepting federal subsidies would be limited to $44 million during primaries and before the party convention.

Of course, President Bush is scarcely assured of re-election — much can happen between now and November 2004 — but McCain-Feingold makes the task of defeating him especially hard. This is, in a sense, cosmic justice: Having used the issue of money as a weapon with which to beat Bush and the Republicans, the Democrats must surely now regret their success.

There is hope. The Supreme Court might well strike down McCain-Feingold for its unconstitutional restrictions on free speech, in which case the Democrats could begin to recoup their losses. Then again, the court might prove exquisitely precise: Nullifying the speech limitations in McCain-Feingold, while retaining its labyrinthine financial regulations. Either way, Bush was shrewd to sign it into law, and Democrats should henceforth be more careful what they wish for.

— Philip Terzian is the associate editor of the Providence Journal.