AS THE PRIMARY ELECTION DREW CLOSER, THE CAMPAIGNS OF ALL the candidates naturally took on more urgency and more vitriol. Volunteers, consultants and the candidates themselves were all a bit more on edge and more aggressive in their tactics. Hull and Hynes, in particular, were growing more venomous toward each other. Hynesas campaign was anemic from start to finish, except when it came to attacking Hull behind the scenes. As the front-runner with a powerful political father, Hynes had chosen a Rose Garden strategya"lie low publicly and the vote will be there on election day when the unions and ward groups churn it out. This proved a fatal error. Hynes was running in a U.S. Senate race, not a local aldermanic contest or even a race for a state executive office. He had been adept at hitting his lines at editorial boards and in public debates, but he was offering nothing particularly special to the voters. For their senator in Washington, voters wanted something more than athe favorite son of the Democratic Party,a in Obamaas words. In most polling, Hynes hovered around 20 percent and, as the stretch run began, had moved only a few percentage points, if that. Hynesas play-it-safe strategy was taken to the extreme in nearly every aspect of his campaign. For example, in contrast to the couple of hours I spent talking with Mich.e.l.le Obama, Hynes declined to make his wife available for an interview, even before the Obama kiss incident. When I shadowed Hynes, he seemed reluctant to talk about anything in his personal life, for fear of alienating a const.i.tuency. aI knew Dan Hynes was not going to win that race,a a high-ranking Illinois Democrat told me. aIave played basketball with both him and Obamaa"and Hynes played soft.a Nevertheless, the one aspect of the Hynes campaign that showed no timidity was its criticism of Hull. To a large extent, Hull and Hynes were targeting the same Democratic const.i.tuenciesa"suburban and downstate Democrats. This made the two candidates natural enemies. Chris Mather, Hynesas spokeswoman, would bend my ear daily about Hullas many political weaknesses and liabilities. And I would get the same treatment of Hynes from Hull staffers. As these two duked it out, Obama was putting one foot in front of the other, moving forward slowly but surely. aTheyare running a very smart campaign over there,a allowed Anita Dunn, Hullas media strategist. Catching up with Obama one afternoon after he spoke to a progressive crowd in suburban Oak Park, I mentioned the fierce battle between Hull and Hynes. Obama laughed and ducked his head as he emphasized this point: aIam just trying to keep my head down while they fling arrows at each other.a As Obama largely ignored Hull and Hynes, there was a candidate who could irritate hima"Gery Chico. The former school board president was the first to announce his candidacy and he was well funded, but his money began drying up when his campaign had trouble getting off the ground. Chico had overestimated the strength of the Latino vote and, most damaging, became distracted by the controversial disintegration of the venerable law firm that he had co-led. He did not project a positive television presencea"his gruff manner could be a turnoff to viewersa"but he was especially skilled at turning a complicated policy matter into a pithy, two-sentence sound bite. This was a skill that Obama did not possess. Obama flourished in extended interviews and longer speeches, where he impressed his audience with elongated, eloquent, thoughtful pa.s.sages. But in the many candidate forums on the stump, Chico overshadowed Obama with snappy phrasing that cut to the heart of an issue.
After attending one forum, Obamaas campaign manager, Jim Cauley, advised his candidate: aYou know, Chico is good out there. Youare going to have to raise your game.a Obama was the intellectual Harvard Law graduate and was expected to excel in a debate setting. But that wasnat necessarily the case in this Senate race. At one forum in suburban Evanston, a liberal lakefront bastion surrounding Northwestern University that Obama needed to carry in overwhelming fashion, Chico tartly challenged Obama about arcane specifics of his education policy. Most of the Democrats in the race agreed on policy matters, and substantial argument over policy was uncharacteristic. Obama is a policy wonk in his soul. But on education, he generally used a standard Democratic applause line about President Bushas No Child Left Behind lawa"aGeorge Bush left the money behindaa"and he was taken aback by Chicoas spicy criticism. Chico, having served as president of the Chicago school board, was expert in the subject area and got the better of the exchange. When I asked Obama afterward what he thought about Chicoas attack, Obama responded by beginning to relitigate the policy argument. I stopped him. aNot that,a I said. aWhy do you think he went after you? Because you are the liberal favorite up here in Evanston?a Obama stammered and said, aOh, you mean you think it was a political thing?a He was so caught up in the intellectual policy aspect of the incident that he completely missed the politics of it. Chico clearly wanted to score a point on Obama on Obamaas home turf, not hash out education policy.
THE FOCAL POINT OF OBAMAaS SHOE-LEATHER CAMPAIGN WAS unquestionably his stump speech. His main address throughout his Senate race was never formally a.s.signed to paper or computer file. He started with a basic framework and spoke extemporaneously from that, usually with similar themes carried throughout. He typically opened with the same joke about his odd name by saying that people invariably call him something elsea"aYo mamaa or aAlabama.a This line always drew a laugh, and Obama delivered it with such frequency that, as the primary wound down, he had to remind himself to smile in response to the audience laughter. The quip served to begin a short explanation of his unique biography. (aMy father was from Kenya, in Africa, which is where I got my name. Barack means ablessed by G.o.da in Swahili. My mother was from Kansas, which is where I got my accent from.a) He then launched into the meat of the speech, which usually involved the gap he perceived between his own values and the course of the country as set by Republican leadership.
These primary speeches were fairly consistent addresses that he would tweak on the spot, depending on feedback from that particular audience. One weekend, as the day wore on and he delivered his speech at least half-a-dozen times, he told me, aItas getting harder and harder to change this speech each time for you, Mendell.a The comment surprised me. First, I hadnat noticed many substantial changes, just a bit different language to emphasize the same themes. Second, having shadowed political candidates previously, I was accustomed to the identical speech being delivered day in, day out. One candidate I had covered had given the same speech, almost word for word, at each stop, and I told Obama there was no reason to alter his addresses on my account. But after some thought, I realized that he was using my nearly permanent presence as an intellectual device. These speeches were mental exercises for hima"to hone his message and advance his already polished oratory skills. Varying his addresses, no matter how slightly, helped him mature as a public speaker. aMy general att.i.tude is practice, practice, practice,a Obama said. aI was just getting more experienced and seeing what is working and what isnat, when I am going too long and when it is going flat. Besides campaigning, I have always said that one of the best places for me to learn public speaking was actually teachinga"standing in a room full of thirty or forty kids and keeping them engaged, interested and challenged. I also think that David [Axelrod] was always very helpful in identifying what worked and what didnat in my speeches.a Axelrod described their chats about message and speech delivery as akin to amusicians riffing together.a Obamaas ability to connect with a black audience, once questionable, grew tremendously during the Senate contest. As a community organizer and as a candidate against Bobby Rush, Obama spent countless hours in Chicagoas African-American churches digesting the cadence of a preacheras rhythm and the themes that stoke an African-American crowd. So when he came before black audiences as a Senate candidate, particularly in a church, Obama spoke in start-and-stop pa.s.sages, imbuing his delivery with a touch of soulfulness and building complex thoughts about social justice and economic inequity into bold emotional crescendos. His message remained remarkably consistent: Despite many superficial differences, Americans are linked by a common bond of humanity, and the countryas government must reflect that benevolent core. aI am my brotheras keeper! I am my sisteras keeper!a he proclaimed, his rich voice booming as he reached the height of the speech. Such addresses from Obama were mostly secular and political in nature, but he made sure to pepper them with hints of the Bible, Christian orthodoxy and borrowed phrases from the nationas African-American civil rights icon, the Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. He would end many of these speeches by intoning his favorite quote from King: aaThe arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.a But it doesnat bend on its own,a he told his audiences. aIt bends because you put your hand on that arc and you bend it in the direction of justice.a ONLY ONE REAL MISFORTUNE BEFELL OBAMAaS PRIMARY CAMPAIGN. During the final week of November 2003, Paul Simon, the bespectacled, gracious former two-term senator from Illinois who had run for president, stopped by the Tribune. I caught him briefly in the hall and asked if he had a preference in the U.S. Senate race. Simon said he would make a formal endors.e.m.e.nt in a couple of weeks, but would not divulge at that moment which candidate he supported. aBut,a he added with a grin, aIam going to be very proud of this one.a Knowing that Obama was an acolyte of Simonas, I simply said, aObama.a Simon responded, aJust wait two weeks,a and he hopped in the elevator. The next week, Simon suffered serious complications during surgery to repair a valve in his heart and died the following day. The down-to-earth Simon, who hailed from central Illinois, was a figure beloved by Democrats throughout the state for his honesty, integrity and unabashed progressive politics. Axelrod had planned to shoot a television commercial with Simonas personal endors.e.m.e.nt of Obama. By linking Obama with Simon, Axelrod hoped to create the image for both progressives and downstate residents that Obama had the same characteristics as Simon: pa.s.sionately liberal, disarmingly honest and definitely his own man. The ad would run primarily in downstate markets and it was considered crucial to help Obama pick up some votes outside the Chicago metro area. So Simonas death was a blow to the Obama camp.
Initially, Axelrod was unsure how to proceed. Then he took a risk. He cut a Simon-themed ad featuring Simonas adult daughter comparing Obama with her father. In the commercial, Sheila Simon talked about the values her father brought to politics and proclaimed that Obama was the person who would best carry on his legacy. aFor half a century,a she said, as images of her father flashed on the screen, aPaul Simon stood for something very speciala"integrity, principle and a commitment to fight for those who most needed a voice. Barack Obama is cut from that same cloth.a The ad was risky, to some extent, because it could have been perceived as exploiting Simonas death for the sake of Obamaas political career. In fact, while test-marketing the ad in focus groups, consultants found that one woman reacted negatively for that very reason. But Axelrod felt strongly that the commercial would resonate with Democratic voters and devoted liberals. Going with his gut over the consultantsa findings, Axelrod ran the ad anyway. It turned out to be a huge success in downstate Illinois, projecting a positive image of Obama to voters who had most likely never heard of him. Indeed, their introduction to Obama was framed in these terms: Here comes the next Paul Simon.
In those final three weeks, Obamaas campaign ran several more of Axelrodas handsome television ads. The first was a biographical piece with footage of Obama that introduced his candidacy and his life to voters. One of Axelrodas foremost talents was identifying the key selling points of a candidateas biography and creating an attractive video package to highlight those points. Axelrod had learned in his focus groups that whites were drawn to Obamaas Harvard rsum and blacks to his community-organizing experiencea"so both were accentuated in the advertising. In Obamaas case, it was rather easy to produce an appealing video commercial because of his television charisma and legislative accomplishments.
The theme was aYes, we can,a which implied many things depending on who was interpreting its meaning: Yes, a politician with the ideals and track record of Obama could make a difference and change lives for the better. Yes, a black man could win a U.S. Senate seat. Yes, aweaa"meaning all peoplea"could make a difference too. Axelrod framed this message primarily in terms of Obamaas barrier-breaking Harvard Law Review presidency (which whites had reacted to favorably in focus groups) and the landmark legislation that he pa.s.sed in Springfield. The legislation aided key Democratic const.i.tuencies that Obama was courting: for women, a law that forced insurance companies to cover routine mammograms; for liberals, blacks and the poor, laws that expanded health care coverage to twenty thousand more impoverished children, provided tax relief to the working poor and reformed the death penalty. aNow they say we canat change Washington?a Obama asked in an earnest voice while stepping forward to fill the camera frame. aIam Barack Obama and I am running for the United States Senate to say, aYes, we can.aa When Obama first saw the aYes, we cana theme, he was far from impressed. In fact, he did not care for the idea. Obama understood the implication of this sound bite, but intellectually he found the simple refrain aYes, we cana rather trite considering the seriousness of his cause. He was inclined toward something with more depth. But Axelrod felt so strongly about this message that he stood fast behind it. So Obama went to his most trusted advisera"Mich.e.l.lea"and asked what she thought. She told him that it was a good idea, that it would penetrate the African-American community and that he should use it. Obama knew that his wife understood the culture and psyche of South Side blacks, and he deferred to her judgment. This indicated the maturity of Obama as a political candidate. Earlier in his career, he might have fought Axelrod on the concept. aBarack is extremely intelligent, and one of the pitfalls of extreme intelligence is you are so accustomed to being right that you believe you are always right,a Axelrod observed. But after the Bobby Rush debacle, Obama discovered that, when it came to politics, there were professionals in the field who could offer wisdom beyond his. It was probably wise to heed the guidance of a political professional like Axelrod, especially if his wife agreed with the plan.
Other commercials used the same aYes, we cana mantra to appeal to different const.i.tuencies. Pollsters have consistently found that urban voters lean toward candidates who are change agents, while voters in rural areas are more conservative, perhaps a bit less jaded, and tend to look for political experience in their candidates. So Axelrodas downstate ad touted Obamaas legislative experience and his proclivity to work hand in hand with Republicans. Over narration about Obamaas bipartisan nature, there was an image of Obama walking next to a blue-jean-clad farmer, with silos and green fields in the background. Wearing a less formal beige suit, Obama stood in front of a small-town courthouse and asked: aWhat if folks in office spent their time attacking problems instead of each other?a Another ad targeted for rural areas featured a protectionist theme. Obama was seen shaking hands with union members as he promised to work to enforce trade laws and slash tax breaks for corporations that moved jobs overseas. aGive [those tax breaks] to companies that create jobs herea"in America,a he said firmly.
In perhaps Axelrodas most effective ad, he harked back to the days of both Simon and the iconic Harold Washingtona"and then morphed into Obama as the modern-day amba.s.sador of their causes. aThere have been moments in our history when hope defeated cynicism, when the power of people triumphed over money and machines,a a deep-throated narrator intones as images of Simon and Washington wash over the screen. The ad then quoted various newspaper endors.e.m.e.nts of Obama that called him athe man for this time and placea (Chicago Sun-Times) who has a aproven record of spirited, principled and effective leadershipa (Chicago Tribune).
As much hard work as Obama put into his on-the-stump campaigning, it was this television campaign produced by Axelrod that pushed him over the top in the final three weeks of the race. As Hullas divorce files became part of the public consciousness around Chicago, Obamaas ads were hitting the small screen. It was difficult to know specifically if they were resonating with the voting public, but internal polling from the campaigns indicated that Obama was surging and filling up the void opened by Hullas collapse. aObama is on fire!a Jason Erkes, the Hull spokesman, told me.
As usual in the final two weeks of any major election, the Tribune beefed up coverage of the Senate race, a.s.signing a single reporter to cover each major candidate. Hull had been the story of the campaign so far, and my editor, Bob Secter, told me that he wanted me to shadow Hull. Since the Tribune had sued for the Hull records, Secter explained to me, aWe canat get beat on the Blair Hull story.a But I told Secter that I should be a.s.signed to Obama. I could see how the race was playing outa"Obama was about to cruise into the lead and probably win. If I were to continue on and cover the Democratic nominee in the general election over the next six months, these last two weeks could be crucial in building a better working relationship with that candidate. After Obama was nominated, there would probably be more staff hired and more obstacles between the candidate and me. It would be easier to cut through that small bureaucracy if I got to him now, when there was no real protection day to day. Then, in August, he would be much more comfortable with me tagging along and my access would be improved. aBesides, the Hull story is over,a I told Secter. aThe story on election night will be the Barack Obama story.a My editor was not necessarily in agreement. aWhat makes you so sure Obama is going to win?a Secter asked. I told him that the polling was clearly headed in that direction, and suddenly you could feel something in the air when Obama appeared in publica"a buzz in the crowd, a certain look of sheer devotion on the faces of his followers. aItas like when youare watching a ball game and you can feel the momentum shift toward one team,a I said. Secter relented. I would now enter Obamaas...o...b..t full-time, hanging on his coattails for the next couple of weeks and beyond. And what a strange trip it would prove to be.
ON THE WEEKEND BEFORE THE ELECTION, OBAMAaS EASE IN DIFFERENT ethnic and racial settings was on vivid display as he bounced from black church to white event to Latino neighborhood.
After a morning breakfast in the black community on the South Side, Obamaas small entouragea"just Obama, his driver and mea"was headed downtown for Chicagoas annual Saint Patrickas Day Parade, the predominantly white celebration not to be missed by prominent elected officials, and especially not to be overlooked by those hoping to become elected officials. This was the parade in which he was dead last the year before. Indeed, just a month earlier, Obama was still little more than an obscure state lawmaker campaigning tirelessly to spread his unusual name and his political message to a largely disengaged Illinois electorate. Now, he was seventy-two hours from the biggest election in his career, perhaps the biggest single moment of his life. And suddenly it appeared as if his long-held lofty vision for himself might be on the verge of realizationa"he might just be rising from obscurity. Nothing was certain yet, but after one of the most bizarre campaign seasons in Illinois history, newspaper and campaign polls all indicated that Obama had surged from third place to the top of the crowded field of Democratic candidates.
His driver parked Obamaas campaign-leased black sport utility vehicle beneath a row of leafless trees lining downtown Chicagoas Grant Park, a sprawling and scenic public green s.p.a.ce situated between the Loop commercial district and Lake Michigan. Chicagoas interminable gray winter cloud cover had parted in recent days, and Obama stepped into bright noon sunshine. He pulled a well-worn charcoal gray wool overcoat onto his even thinner than usual frame, reduced by months of fourteen-hour days on the campaign trail. He reached into a frayed coat pocket and secured an always present pair of sleek black Ray Ban sungla.s.ses, ever so slowly raised them to his face, a.s.suredly c.o.c.ked his head a quarter turn sideways and with chin pointed upward, coolly slipped on the gla.s.ses.
Just then, three young white women, none of them beyond their early twenties, spotted the political candidate and darted from a nearby throng of parade-goers. Judging by their accents, the women hailed from one of the mostly white ethnic sections of the town, where heavy Chicago accents are inescapable.
aMr. Obaaaama! Mr. Obaaaama!a one of the young women said, rushing to the candidateas side and p.r.o.nouncing the first a in Obamaas name with a nasal Chicago inflection, as a sheep says abaaaaa.a aCan we pleeeeze get a picture with you, Mr. Obaaaaama?a she pleaded. aPleeeeeze?! We have seen you on TV and we are all going to vote for you!a With no visible reaction to the flattering attention, Obama turned to me.
A photo was snapped of Obama smiling broadly, his arms loosely fastened around the waists of two of the women, and I was immediately struck by how remarkable this moment was. In all likelihood, these women came from a place in Chicago that has never produced a substantial number of votes for a black political candidate. In one of the most racially and ethnically segregated metropolitan regions in the country, they most likely came from a part of town where, even at the dawn of the twenty-first century, blacks still rarely felt comfortable enough to venture.
Besides the racial disconnect, I wondered how these three women even knew who Obama was. Immersed in establishing a career, building a romantic relationship and following pop culture, the typical twenty-something is the least reliable vote on election day. At that point, the vast majority of white Democrats had never even heard of this state lawmaker with the strange-sounding name. These women were not in Obamaas target groups, being neither black nor lakefront liberals, and just two months earlier, Obama had the backing of fewer than three in ten black Democratic voters. Moreover, he was running for the U.S. Senate, not Illinois governor or Chicago mayor, the political jobs in this midwestern state with real public cachet. Had Axelrodas ads really sunk into the public consciousness to this extent, to produce these three young white women gushing over him as if he were some rising rock star and a.s.suring him of their electoral support three days hence?
After the photo was taken and all arms unlocked, one young lady looked at another and said, aCan you believe it? He is just as fine in person as on TV.a Obamaas SUV driver, a barrel-chested black man named Mike Signator, glanced at me with eyebrows raised and a wry smile on his face. Obama smiled to himself. At long last, here was firsthand evidence that his television splash had transformed his campaign, and at the perfect political moment. aYou know, if you have the votes of those three young white women,a I said, ayou really are going to run away with this thing.a Obama flashed a confident and knowing smile. aYou just wait to see where all our votes are coming from on Tuesday,a he said. aYou just wait.a
CHAPTER.
17.
A Victory Lap.
Truthfully, it feels like a movement. I think for people of our generation, we havenat been a part of something like this before.
a"A THIRTY-SOMETHING OBAMA VOTER.
David Axelrodas television advertising defined Barack Obama in the public consciousness in those final three weeks of the primary campaign. Axelrodas long-held strategy of keeping a lock on the money and spending it on TV at the end proved to be positively genius, especially in light of the ugly demise of Blair Hull. Axelrod, of course, had full knowledge of Hullas unseemly personal baggage and he was confident that, in such a high-profile contest, it would not remain under wraps forever. Dan Hynes, meanwhile, ran a series of commercials, but they had a cutesy quality and got lost in the seasonal blitz of political ads. In one commercial intended to court suburban women, Hynes stood at a kitchen counter attired in an ap.r.o.n and cradling an egga"aa nest egg,a he called ita"and then cracked the egg over a skillet. This was a reference to Republican indifference to safeguarding a retirement nest egg for everyday people. (Note to campaign commercial scriptwriters: Never put your candidate in an ap.r.o.n.) Another ad featured Hynes and his wife, but again, it seemed lightweight for a U.S. Senate contest.
With Obamaas ads resonating, momentum had swung his way and it seemed unstoppable. He was soaring in the polls. This was the very beginning of the Obama phenomenon that would sweep through Illinois and then spread nationwide, carrying him into the U.S. Senate and ultimately into the 2008 presidential contest.
Obamaas Democratic primary opponents huddled with their staffs to brainstorm about how to stop Obama in those final weeks, but they came up with nothing. Hynes had been concentrating almost solely on derailing Hull and seemed clueless about how to respond to Obamaas surge. The Hull campaign had a.s.sembled opposition research on Obama, but nothing was of much substance. Obama had been inoculated from harsh criticism of his teenage and college cocaine snorting because he had divulged the matter himself in a book published ten years earlier. Hoping to turn Democratic women away from Obama, operatives for one opponent feverishly lobbied me behind the scenes to write a story about Obamaas many apresenta votes in the legislature on abortion bills. But when I interviewed abortion rights activists in Springfield about Obamaas posture on abortion, they stood firmly behind him as a staunch pro-choice advocate. aThere was nowhere to go, nothing to make an issue of,a said Mark Blumenthal, one of Hullas pollsters. aObama had the best of all worlds. He said, aI embody change, but I have experience.a The Obama persona born the last week of the campaigna"we couldnat look at that with any depth. He was just on the right side of Democratic primary voters that season. And n.o.body was able to create a news story to take him down.a As a black man, Obama, in some ways, wore a suit of armor. No candidate wanted to alienate the significant black voting bloc by sharply attacking him as he was fast becoming a symbol of pride in the African-American community. When Obama stepped into public s.p.a.ces, he was recognized as never before. aHey, thatas Barack Obama,a a black man whispered to a friend with a beaming smile on his face as Obama marched through Chicagoas McCormick Place Convention Center to an event. aLetas face ita"heas black. And we donat want to look racist,a explained Jason Erkes, the Hull communications director. There was also more to Hullas reluctancea"Hullas campaign cochairman, Bobby Rush, had a.s.sured the Hull team early in the race that Obama could not draw votes from the black community. So he had never developed a strategy for attacking Obama. Indeed, the bad blood was with Hynes. Said Erkes, aIf we donat win, and it looks like we canat, we are going to do everything we can to make sure Hynes doesnat win.a The only other event that could have damaged Obamaas pristine image came in the final televised debate. Obama, now the clear front-runner, was visibly nervous from the outset and did not deliver his opening statement with his usual c.o.c.ksure att.i.tude. To offer support and prepare Obama for the debate, Axelrod and Pete Giangreco had traveled back to Chicago from their duties with the John Edwards presidential campaign and other clients. They a.s.sumed that the other candidates would come out swinging at Obama, and that was true. And one could sense that Obama was thinking about what might soon be coming his way. Hynes, for one, a.s.sailed Obama for doing little to curb state spending under the previous Republican gubernatorial administration and thus a.s.serted that Obama was partially responsible for creating the stateas fiscal mess. aHe stayed silent,a Hynes said of Obama. aHe did nothing.a But, Giangreco noted, while Obamaas even temperament can make him poorly equipped to take the first swing at an opponent, aBarack is a great counterpuncher when heas attacked.a Sure enough, Obama swatted back effectively by saying that Hynes was the state comptroller at the time and ahe signed off on every one of these budgets.a Obama came out of the forum largely unscathed, with only days to the election. For all intents and purposes, the nomination was his.
THE TYPICALLY GRAY WINTER SKY OF CHICAGO HUNG BEFORE ME on March 10, 2004, framing the impressive city skyline in dreariness. I was juggling my morning coffee, a manual-shift Saturn and speeding traffic along the Eisenhower Expressway en route to the Tribune Tower in downtown Chicago when my cell phone showed that Obama was calling. It is a rare occurrence when a candidate calls a reporter himself, but to this point, Obama had pretty much run his campaign on his own terms, and pretty cheaply as well. Instantly I sensed why he was dialing me. For the first time, Obama had led the Tribuneas daily wrap-up story on the Senate race. The Tribune had run weekly stories on the policy issues in the race, but the coverage that had absorbed most of the mediaas attention concerned Hullas marital troubles. And in this case, not only was Obama the lead of the story, but the article featured a negative finding about him. Talk about rare.
A rival campaign had pa.s.sed along to me an Obama flyer dubbed a aLegislative Updatea that looked suspiciously like campaign advertising, although its cost was borne by state taxpayers. The flyer had been mailed in early February to every household in his state senate district on Chicagoas South Side under even more suspicious circ.u.mstances. It arrived in mailboxes just days before an ethics law prohibited elected officials running for office from dispersing such taxpayer-funded literature. And there was irony to the story. Obama had written the ethics law himself, touting it as an example of both his probity and his legislative accomplishments. Thus, it seemed he was caught in an impropriety: By mailing the state-funded positive piece about himself just before the deadline, he was clearly doing an end run around the very law that he had sponsored with pride.
The Tribune story, which I cowrote with colleague John Chase, began like this: aState Sen. Barack Obama claims the mantle of a reformer, but early last month the Democratic U.S. Senate candidate spent $17,191 in state taxpayer money on a mailer that had the look and feel of a campaign flier. The mailing went out just days before a new ban on the pre-election dissemination of such state-paid const.i.tuent newsletters went into effect, part of a package of ethics reforms that Obama takes credit for getting pa.s.sed.a Considering that his main opponents in the Senate race had been caught up in improperly bundling campaign contributions (Hynes) and allegations of spousal abuse (Hull), this story hardly merited a misdemeanor. But it did put a slight c.h.i.n.k in Obamaas armor, which at that point hadnat endured so much as a minor surface scratch.
Like most reporters who receive such phone calls, I quickly realized I was going to have to defend my story. In this case, that didnat seem like a difficult ch.o.r.e. It was hardly the crime of the century, but the story was solid and legitimate, far from a cheap journalistic shot. aHey, this story today,a Obama began, before pausing a moment. aUh, I guess with me at the top, I guess this means Iam the front-runner, huh?a His hesitation and his less-than-a.s.sured tone told me he didnat seem comfortable making the call, but felt he must defend himself. aYou know, Dave,a he continued, athis story today, we didnat do anything illegal here. The implication is, we did something illegal.a I explained that the story never implied illegality, but said that he appeared to have breached athe spirit of the law.a I then waited for his defense of that argument.
But, to my shock, Obama did something that politicians rarely doa"he backed down and concurred with me, showing a rare glimpse of both humility and candor. aOkay, Iall give you that,a he said. aAnd between you and me, I chewed out my staff for mailing that out when they did. It should have gone out a long time ago.a And with that, the matter seemed to be laid to rest. That is, until I chatted with Obamaas lead campaign consultant later in the day. Axelrod called to inform me that my story was bogusa"his candidate had done nothing wrong. When I used the same response as with Obamaa"I never implied illegality, only that he had violated the spirit of his own ethics lawa"Axelrod disagreed entirely. He argued vigorously that the mailing in no way resembled campaign literature and it was strictly distributed by Obamaas senate office to inform his const.i.tuents about his work in Springfield. No laws were brokena"just an unfair shot from the newspaper at his man, Axelrod insisted.
When I told Axelrod that his candidate had conceded to me earlier in the day that he had mistakenly sent out the flyer when he did, that it should have gone out earlier, and that Obama had further admitted to breaking the spirit of the law, Axelrod responded with utter amazement.
aHe did?a Axelrod said. aHe said that?a aYes,a I said. aHow about that? It would appear that you have an honest man on your hands here.a aYeah, I know. And you know what?a Axelrod said. aThat can be a real problem.a AS THE PRIMARY CAMPAIGN WOUND DOWN AND OBAMAaS VICTORY seemed in the bag, he naturally started thinking about the general election and how to strengthen his campaign organization. He would now be the Democratic Party nominee, and resources from the national party would be forthcoming. The question was, how much did he need to avail himself of these resources. As someone who endeavored to keep his career as unenc.u.mbered as possible by the organized political structure, he wanted to maintain autonomy over his message, his media and his policy. In the primary, Obama had hired savvy professional consultants and staff with ties to the mainstream political establishment in Axelrod, Jim Cauley and Pete Giangreco. But for the most part, Obamaas message and his core beliefs were the main thrust. He also had a flock of volunteers who believed in him. Many of them were students at the University of Chicago and other Chicago-area colleges who had heard of Obama by word of mouth or had seen him speak. aWe have all these save-the-world types showing up at the door,a campaign manager Cauley mused one day. aSometimes, I donat know what to do with them all.a I almost laughed aloud at this comment. Wasnat Obama a save-the-world type himself?
In any case, Obama could still look at his primary campaign and say that victory pretty much came organicallya"not just because the powers-that-be wished it so. Obama, to be sure, had worked within the established order, currying favor with insiders, raising millions in campaign money and hiring aides with powerful connections. He had secured Illinois senate president Emil Jonesas backing. He had tapped many of the same financial donors who also backed Mayor Richard Daley. Unions, trial lawyers and other so-called special interests had backed him financially and with gra.s.sroots help. And Mich.e.l.le, of course, had worked in city hall and helped to introduce her husband to a network of important African-American business leaders. But Obama operated mostly on the fringes of Chicagoas legendary machine politics. He was not considered a vital cog in the wheel of any political operation but his own.
So Obama wanted to keep his freedom and his independence intact through the fall election. aI donat want this campaign to be taken over by Washington,a he said, while riding in the campaign SUV between appearances at African-American churches. That will be easier said than done, I thought to myself. Perhaps Obama didnat realize the power of his candidacy. Illinois was trending heavily Democratic, and he had an excellent chance to be only the third black elected to the Senate since Reconstruction and most likely the only sitting black in the upper chamber. This in itself would catapult his profile above all the black representatives who had been in Washington for years.
THE BUZZ AROUND OBAMA IN THOSE FINAL WEEKS BECAME INtense. African Americans, especially, jumped aboard his candidacy with fervor. Private polling showed that Obama shot from less than 15 percent of the black vote to nearly 50 percent just a week after his television ads. .h.i.t the airwaves. aIt was a straight arrow up,a said Blumenthal, the Hull pollster. aAnd it just kept going up and up.a This electricity among blacks was palpable in nearly every African-American setting Obama walked into. Rather than sitting anonymously in a church pew on Sunday morning and then having to introduce himself from the pulpit, he now turned heads wherever he went. A fund-raiser thrown by a young black professional at a trendy downtown bar was packed to capacity. It took Obama half an hour to push himself through the crowd to the back of the huge nightclub, where he was to speak. When the host introduced him to a cheering crowd as athe best and the brightest we have to offer the world,a even the ambitious, self-a.s.sured Obama raised an eyebrow at this obsequious treatment. He needed a burly escort to help him back through the crowd and into the waiting SUV. Finally hopping back into the vehicle, he seemed stunned himself at the outpouring of affection.
Wherever Obama went in public as primary election day neared, he put on his game face. aI am fired up!a he would exclaim in joyous rallies filled with exuberant union members and teachers and progressives and blacks. Privately, however, Obamaas driving ambition, and now the seeming fait accompli of becoming a U.S. senator, was having a different effecta"it was eating him up.
What is worse: Getting a job that you desperately want but that will dramatically alter your relatively happy life, whisking you away from your beloved wife and children and curtailing your time with close friends, or not getting the job and living out your life quite comfortably? Obama dearly loved his wife and his two young girls, and it was dawning on him that being a U.S. senatora"especially one with star powera"was going to pull him away from them more than he might have foreseen. Obamaas abiding belief in his own personal destiny created this paradoxical effecta"he would strive for something pa.s.sionately and then rebel against its deleterious effects on his life. aAmbition has always been both Barackas downfall and his greatest attribute,a his former aide Dan Sh.o.m.on said.
This internal conflict came to the attention of his close friend Valerie Jarrett at a picnic she threw for the campaignas volunteers and staff. Throughout the event, Obamaas face was tight and he was on edgea"almost the ant.i.thesis of his easygoing public persona. Jarrett noticed this and asked him about it when the two had a private lunch not long after. aWell, you are on your way now,a she told him. aIt looks like you are going to be a U.S. senator and who knows whatas next? So whatas the matter, Barack?a Obamaas eyes had been downcast since he greeted her, and he now hung his head low as Jarrett spoke. When he lifted his head to answer, a tear rolled down his cheek. aIam really going to miss those little girls,a he said.
ELECTION NIGHT WAS A RAPTUROUS EXPERIENCE FOR MOST OF Obamaas supporters, except Obama. Highly disciplined and focused, he displayed few signs that he was about to be the Democratic nominee to the U.S. Senate. The victory party was held at the Chicago Hyatt Regency, owned by the Pritzker family. As a roomful of two hundred guests watched election results pour in across the television screen, Obama paced about endlessly, checking notes for the speech he had cobbled together and greeting the many smiling well-wishers who hugged him and shook his hand. Obama had stepped into his Hawaii calm, cool exterior. aHeas really pretty excited,a Mich.e.l.le told a quizzical-looking Eric Zorn, the Tribune columnist. aHeas basically a calm guy. It takes a lot to push his b.u.t.tons. He has incredibly low blood pressure.a Axelrod was stationed at the Cook County Board of Elections, monitoring the results of the race. On election night, Axelrodas crusader instincts took over from those of the Machiavellian consultant bent on winning a race at all costs. As he looked over the numbers, he began thinking about the historic nature of what was occurring. A black man was running away with a statewide race for the U.S. Senate, and he was not squeaking through. He was winning predominantly white wards all over the city and precincts in the suburbs that most blacks would have considered far out of reach. The breadth of Obamaas support shocked even his chief strategists. aThe most surprising and gratifying thing was when those numbers rolled in on primary night,a Axelrod said. aAnd you saw numbers from the Northwest Side of Chicago, and you saw the numbers from the collar counties, and you realized that, you know, I mean, I was covering Chicago politics when the issue of race was at a jagged edge here. And I was around when Harold Washington went to Saint Pasqualeas church on the Northwest Side and was roundly booed and the hatred was, you know, palpable. And that night, that primary night, I was moved, if you could be moved by watching numbers come across a computer screen. What those numbers meant was that we had pa.s.sed a Rubicon in the politics of this state, where a guy could come along who was an African-American candidate, but who had universal appeal and people were willing to look beyond race.a I had run back to the Tribune from Obamaas fete in order to a.s.semble the story on his victory for the next dayas paper. And I was surprised by the numbers as well, even if my roots in Chicago and its racial schisms were more recent. The final tally: Obama had a whopping 53 percent of the vote; Hynes had 24 percent; and Hull finished with about 10 percent. These numbers were beyond anything that Cauley, Giangreco or Axelrod had fathomed was possible. Giangreco initially figured that if Obama pulled in 80 percent of blacks and half of college-educated liberalsa"which was the initial goala"he could win 35 percent of Democratic voters and prevail in such a crowded field. Giangrecoas a.n.a.lysis of voting patterns had Obamaas high-end threshold in the upper 30s or, maybe, if all went perfectly, in the low 40s. Cracking 50 percent was beyond hope. But in the end, Obama raked in more than 95 percent of the black vote and even won some city wards with a heavy percentage of non-college-educated whites.
As I sat at my desk to write the aObama Winsa story, I looked through the various feeds arriving from reporters in the field who were interviewing voters at polling stations. There was one theme throughout: Barack Obama was a abreath of fresh air,a in the words of one voter in a white Northwest Side ward that would have seemed safely in Hynesas pocket. But Obama displayed a unique quality that she could not quite put her finger on. In the end, she summed it up by saying: aHe knows his stuff. Iam tired of the machine.a This was the kind of Obama voter that shocked pollsters and strategists. Obama destroyed the stereotypical appeal of a black candidate. Illinois surely had a history of electing blacks to statewide offices, but usually this was done purely on the strength of liberals, college-age voters and African Americans themselves. A postprimary a.n.a.lysis by Blumenthal showed that even when he subtracted college-educated whites from his sample, Obama still garnered nearly 30 percent of the rest of the white vote, which was extremely unusual for a black candidate. He decisively won all the heavily white Chicago collar counties and even captured nearly one in four Democratic votes outside the Chicago region, though he barely campaigned there.
Those who were inclined toward Obama in the first place were swept away in the heady moment. They talked about Obama representing a new generation of politician whose language was not shrill and who eloquently conveyed a feeling of hope and honesty. aTruthfully, it feels like a movement,a said Leslie Corbett, who had met Obama the year before at a meeting of the National Poverty Law Center and instantly became a supporter. aI think for people of our generation, we havenat been a part of something like this before.a Twenty-six-year-old Deborah Landis of Chicago said she first saw Obama a year before and was overwhelmed by his aura. aWhen I first met him, I registered to vote that evening just so I could vote for him,a Landis said.
Back at his victory party, Obama ambled onstage surrounded by his familya"Mich.e.l.le, Sasha and Malia; his brother-in-law, Craig Robinson; and his half sister Maya Soetoro-Ng, from Hawaii. A proud-looking Reverend Jesse Jackson, who had endorsed Obama, proclaimed: aTonight, surely Dr. King and the martyrs smiled upon us.a Obama himself told the crowd that they, not he, were responsible for this victory. He reiterated the Democratic ideals that he had cited throughout the campaign, saying that he was on a mission to enact broad social change to better the condition of societyas most vulnerable citizens. aAt its best, the idea of this party has been that we are going to expand opportunity and include people that have not been included, that we are going to give voice to the voiceless, and power to the powerless, and embrace people from the outside and bring them inside, and give them a piece of the American dream,a Obama said.
Throughout his speech, a chant rose from the jubilant and attentive crowd, and Obama used the chant to launch a call-and-response. The words of this chant could be found on the huge white-and-blue banners hanging throughout the hotel ballroom: aYes, we can! Yes, we can!a
CHAPTER.
18.
A Dash to the Center.
I donat think you are going to see me tacking to the center, because I never feel like I left what I consider to be the mainstream of American thinkinga.
a"BARACK OBAMA.
Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Barack Obama and his aYes, we cana campaign would soon be headed straight into the belly of the Washington establishmenta"and that establishment would embrace him. Because of Obamaas race and David Axelrodas promotion of his client as a star in the making, Obamaas general election contest would soon gain national attention. The Republican inc.u.mbent, Peter Fitzgerald, decided against seeking reelection, and GOP voters in Illinois nominated a new youthful face of its own to run against Obamaa"Jack Ryan, who was Hollywood handsome and independently wealthy. In a state trending so heavily Democratic, early polling showed Obama with a definite advantage in the race, but this would be a matchup between two attractive, highly telegenic candidates anch.o.r.ed in distant political ideologies. Ryan was a fervent capitalist; Obama was a fervent big-government liberal.
Word of Obamaas rising star was now extending beyond Illinois, spreading especially fast through influential Washington political circles like blue-chip law firms, party insiders, lobbying houses. They were all hearing about this rare, exciting, charismatic, up-and-coming African-American Democrat who unbelievably could win votes across color lines. The New Yorker sent a writer to Illinois to do an extended profile of Obama, a piece that was largely laudatory and served to introduce him in more depth to the liberal cognoscenti across the country. The New Republic put him on the cover and ran a piece that dissected the racial reasons behind his ascendance and the ramifications of it. These were major literary stamps of approval, and a sign of things to come.
Obama took advantage of this groundswell of modest political celebrity and within weeks of his primary victory was on his way to Washington to raise campaign cash. Axelrod, Jim Cauley and Obamaas influential Chicago supporters and fund-raisers all vigorously worked their D.C. contacts to help Obama make the rounds with the Democratsa set of power brokers. Even though Obama had spent that disappointing weekend at the Congressional Black Caucus in 2002, this would be his grand introduction to the major players inside the Beltway. He spent a couple of days and nights shaking hands, making small talk and delivering speeches before liberal groups, national union leaders, lobbyists, fund-raisers and well-heeled money donors. In setting after setting, Obamaas Harvard Law rsum and his reasonable tone impressed this elite crowd. aBarack was nervous a couple times, but he wowed them,a Cauley said. Obama gained the attention of liberal billionaire George Soros, who hosted a fund-raiser for him in New York. Senator Hillary Clinton opened her home in Washington to him.
As he had so often before, Obama sold his message to both liberals and centrists, as well as to some who tilted toward the right. His message, after all, was both liberal and conservative. His policy positions were decidedly to the left, but he offered them in such a pa.s.sive, two-p.r.o.nged way that it made him sound almost conservative. He talked at length about the importance of committed parents and communities in raising children. But, depending on his audience, he was liable to follow that with the responsibility of government to a.s.sist parents and communities struggling to stay committed. In the era of George Bushas running up huge federal deficits, Obama advocated fiscal restraint, calling for pay-as-you-go government. He extolled the merits of free trade and charter schools, but he also pushed for tax incentives to keep businesses from moving abroad and for more money for ailing school systems to help the less fortunate. He waxed on about the power of the free market to create wealth and change lives. But he also had an afterthought on a market-based economy straight from liberal economist Paul Krugman: aSometimes markets fail, and thatas when labor laws and government regulation are necessary correctives.a In other words, he was saying that capitalism is magnificent, but it does have its drawbacks. It would be hard for anyone to argue with such a balanced statement. aObama figures out ways to present himself like a conservative to conservatives,a said David Wilhelm, a former campaign manager for Bill Clinton who informally advised Obama in his Senate race. aHe has the whole venture capital industry here in Chicago, nothing but Republicans, thinking he is their champion. He has supported entrepreneurship. It is a pro-growth message and he is brilliant at delivering it.a Indeed, when Vernon Jordan, the ultimate Washington and corporate player, who was a close adviser to Bill Clinton, hosted a fund-raiser for Obama at his home, Obama had securely moved beyond being an obscure good-government reformer to being a candidate more than palatable to the moneyed and political establishment.
This moderate manner was in direct contrast to some of the language Obama used in the primary, where he often sounded like a fiery liberal. He would give eloquent speeches, but among crowds of angry, out-of-power Democrats, he would always be sure to toss them a juicy applause line. That exhortation typically involved excoriating the Bush administration, which, of course, was the bane of nearly all Democrats in that election cycle. This could be frustrating to Obama. Crowds listened attentively to his professorial prose, responding to his thoughtful oratory with polite applause. But aall I have to say is George Bush is a bad person and they all go wild,a Obama said with a shrug. He seemed genuinely distressed at this pattern, probably because bashing the other side for a jolt of audience electricity or a media sound bite is not in his true nature. He would much rather listen to all sides of an issue and offer a constructive solution than fan the flames of partisanship. Yet in a primary election the ma.s.ses salivate for red meat, and Obama was aware of that and complied.
Now that he was a general election candidate, however, his overtly left-leaning lines would be reserved only for tried-and-true Democratic audiences. He now took a more centered, softer approacha"and he held firmly to that mild manner all the way into his presidential bid. This darling of Illinois liberals was now engaged in the timeless dance of politics. Once the party nomination was in hand, Obama was gingerly stepping toward the centera"Bill Clinton famously called it the avital centeraa"in an effort to court independent and swing voters in the fall general election. When I posed this shift-toward-the-middle scenario to Obama, he insisted that he would remain true to his core beliefs. aI think you will see consistency in my message from the primary through the general election,a he told me. aI donat think you are going to see me tacking to the center, because I never feel like I left what I consider to be the mainstream of American thinking and the mainstream of Illinois views.a However, when I wrote a story for the Chicago Tribune in late April 2004 that flatly stated that Obama was moderating his message and dashing toward the center, I heard nothing from him or his campaign disputing this a.s.sertion. My article delved into the unattractive political motivations behind this move, but in truth, the story most likely did more to alleviate concerns among moderates that Obama might be a liberal firebrand than it did to anger true believers on the left.
As an example of Obamaas movement toward the middle, I mentioned a recent vote on a bill in the Illinois senate that allowed retired law enforcement officers to carry concealed weapons. If there was any issue on which Obama rarely deviated, it was gun control. His district housed many economically depressed neighborhoods savaged by gangs and crime. In his answers to primary campaign questionnaires for the Tribune, he was the most strident candidate when it came to enforcing and expanding gun control laws. So this vote jumped out as inconsistent.
When I queried him about the vote in an interview in his campaign office, he grew defensive. I told him that I had taken a daylong cla.s.s on firearms in which the instructor said that the people carrying guns who often concerned him were aging law enforcement officers. The firearms instructor worried that some in this group had an arrogance about how well they handled their deadly weapon because they had been carrying it for so long. And that arrogance sometimes bred a sloppiness that could cause a tragic accident. In addition, many failed to keep up with target-shooting and regular practice with their weapon because they were no longer a.s.signed to the streets. When I ran this by Obama, his facial expression tightened. aLook,a he said, aI didnat find that [vote] surprising. I mean, I am consistently on record and will continue to be on record as opposing concealed carry. This was a narrow exception in an exceptional circ.u.mstance where a retired police officer might find himself vulnerable as a consequence of the work he had previously donea"and had been trained extensively in the proper use of firearms.a It wasnat until a few weeks later that another theory came forward about the uncharacteristic vote. Obama was battling with his GOP opponent to win the endors.e.m.e.nt of the Fraternal Order of Police. Obama ultimately won the fight, and during the news conference on the endors.e.m.e.nt, Obama stood beside police officers who noted that they had some qualms about his past legislative record. For example, Obama had voted against stiffer sentences for gang-related crimes, saying that these laws unfairly targeted minorities. But the union president told reporters that Obama stood with them on other issues, and he specifically cited the concealed carry vote for retired police officers. aItas impossible to tell you how important it is for a black Democrat from Chicago to get the FOP endors.e.m.e.nt,a an Obama aide told me. aDownstate, that endors.e.m.e.nt can mean a lot. Obama might not be a big fan of guns, but he is a big fan of the FOP endorsing him.a NOT ONLY DID OBAMA TAKE HIS FIRST BABY STEPS INSIDE THE Beltway during this period, but the Washington system also arrived on Obamaas doorstep in Illinois. With more resources at his disposal and a high-profile contest before him, he now attracted seasoned staff personnela"and quality rsums dropped on his desk like never before. He hired three thirty-something Washington-bred campaign veterans: Amanda Fuchs as his policy director, Darrel Thompson as his chief of staff and Robert Gibbs as his communications director. Fuchs had worked in organized labor and for various Democratic candidates, most notably as an issues and opposition researcher for Geraldine Ferraro in her ill-fated 1998 campaign for senator in New York. Thompson had been an aide for five years to then House minority leader Richard Gephardt. Gibbs had worked on more than a handful of Senate campaigns and had recently quit as chief spokesman for John Kerryas presidential campaign amid an internal turf war.
Of this trio of new aides, Gibbs quickly established himself as the most influential. Through hard work, personal charm and keen political instincts, Gibbs would evolve into Obamaas most powerful staff adviser, projecting a voice among his inner circle eclipsed only by Axelrod. aRobert stepped into this incredible voida"and he filled it up completely,a said Valerie Jarrett, Obamaas close friend and finance chairwoman. I first met Gibbs at a hastily organized campaign event in Chicagoas Chinatown neighborhood, an event seemingly a.s.sembled at the last moment to give a CNN reporting team some on-the-stump footage for a profile on the Illinois race. For the past couple of months, I had been hanging on to Obamaas coattails, shadowing him almost daily. This meant there was little buffer zone between him and the Chicago Tribune on a daily basis. It was fine to have me this close in the primary, when Obama was looking to spread his name and build relationships with campaign reporters. Now he was in a general election in which he was the favorite, and the strategy became less about introducing him to the populace and more about avoiding mistakes. Having a reporter at his side hour by hour only increased the chances that a verbal miscue would get a full airing in the media.
Even more than keeping my wary ears at bay, Obama needed more structure to his schedule in a general election campaign. An efficient daily schedule and structure were not among the strengths of his primary campaign, and this could have been Obamaas fault. He did not care for being chained to a schedule, and he and his driver would sometimes slip off on their own, many times so Obama could squeeze in one of his daily exercise workouts. During a campaign trip in the primary to Metro East, the Illinois section of greater St. Louis, Obama himself had to direct his small caravan into a pizza parlor because lunch had not been built into the schedule. There, Obama pulled out twenty-five dollars from his wallet to pay for the pizza, and then collected five-dollar donations from his hungry entourage. Needless to say, the candidate should not be worrying about feeding his staff or the media. That role should be delegated. In addition, on one of the primary debate days, Dan Sh.o.m.on scheduled Obama to speak at a prison in southern Illinois in the morning and Obama had to be whisked back to Chicago in the evening for the debate. (Sh.o.m.on was still a.s.sisting with downstate campaigning.) Obama scurried into the television studio and dropped into his chair just minutes before airtime. And he was so fatigued that at one point in the debate he nodded off for a moment.
When I saw Gibbs and Fuchs trailing their new boss through Chinatown that morning, I vividly recalled Obamaas anti-Washington words. I could only think: Good thing his campaign is not going Washington! Obama introduced me to Gibbs by putting his hand on Gibbsas shoulder and casually pulling his new staff member to stand between us. aThis is someone Iad like you to meet,a Obama said. The symbolism could not have been more apparent. Here comes the blocker between me and Obama. Gone were the days of Obama directly calling my cell phone when he had an issue. And vice versa. Iad now be calling Gibbs, who would be calling Obama for a response that would probably be drafted by Gibbs.
In his mid-thirties, Gibbs had cut his teeth in a number of campaigns, dating back to his first political job in college when he interned with a congressman. Wearing fashionable thin-framed gla.s.ses below his receding reddish-blond hair, Gibbs at first glance appeared to be every bit the son of two librarians from Alabama. But his scholarly appearance belied an undergirding of compet.i.tive intensity. He exuded a southern charm that was immediately apparent, typically greeting professional acquaintances with a hearty smile and friendly squeeze of the arm. aWhatas neeeew?a head ask through a light south-of-Dixie accent. But in many ways, Gibbs was the anti-Obama, adding the tougher, rougher edges to Obamaas softer, more tranquil demeanor. Gibbs was an indispensable aide for a politician with the lofty long-term ambitions that Obama harbored. He was Obamaas hired gun, skillfully trained to shoot at reporters whose coverage was deemed unfair, as well as a cutthroat pragmatist who could brainstorm on message and tactical strategy. Gibbs was a ruthless political operative who relished personal confrontation as much as Obama fled from it. aRobert is a bully,a said a former Obama aide. aStuff landed on his desk that should never be on the desk of a communications director. But nine out of ten times, his gut instincts are right. That tenth time could be ugly, though.a Cunningly smart, Gibbs understood the importance of a pithy sound bite and he thrived on manipulating reporters to the benefit of his candidate. But Obama and Gibbs did have two things in common: raw ambition and a burning compet.i.tive nature. A former college soccer player at North Carolina State University, Gibbs was a sports enthusiast with a particular fondness for fantasy sports leagues, the kind of guy who treated late-evening video golf games in a bar along the campaign trail as if they were life-and-death sport. aPlain and simple, Robert wants to be the communications director of the White House,a Cauley told me.
Gibbs was one of the few aides in Obamaas...o...b..t who was fearless when it came to pushing back on the boss. When Obamaas oratory meandered toward the wonkish or his news conference answers drifted off message, Gibbs was not shy about schooling his boss in the vital importance of verbal restraint. After Obama had been elected to the Senate, he approached Gibbs in his Senate office one day and asked, aGibbs, who is the president of Tanzania?a Many aides would wilt at this question, mostly because they would not know the answer. Gibbsas response: aWho the f.u.c.k cares?a That answer got a laugh from Obama. Gibbs was fond of recounting his worst day in politics, a now infamous moment in the presidential campaign of John Kerry. While campaigning in Philadelphia for the Democratic nomination, Kerry had been handed a Philly cheesesteak sandwich. He asked if he