Living History, Unknown [books to read in your 20s female TXT] 📗

because this President’s record on civil rights, on women’s rights, on all of our rights is unimpeachable…. I stand here before you today because President Bill Clinton believed I could stand here for him.”

Dale Bumpers, the former Senator from Arkansas, delivered a powerful argument on Bill’s behalf. Bumpers, a master orator and Bill’s close friend, wove together American history and Arkansas stories to deliver a compelling case in favor of acquittal. He forcefully reminded us that the Constitution was on trial. In his marvelous autobiography, The Best Lawyer in a One-Lawyer Town, Bumpers relates how Bill had called to ask him to speak on his behalf. After thinking it over, Bumpers realized that “Every family in America could relate, to one degree or another, to the trials and tribulations, so much a part of the human drama, that the Clintons had experienced.” And then he asked, “Where were the elements of forgiveness and redemption, the very foundation of Christianity?”

Throughout the trial, I never doubted that we would prevail in the end. I was relying more on my faith every day. It reminded me of an old saying from Sunday school: Faith is like stepping off a cliff and expecting one of two outcomes―you will either land on solid ground or you will be taught to fly.

DARE TO COMPETE

The constitutional showdown on capitol Hill provided an odd backdrop for the growing speculation about my entry into the New York Senate race. I still had no interest in running for Senator Moynihan’s seat, but by the beginning of 1999, the Democratic leadership was in a full-court press to change my mind. Tom Daschle, the Senate Minority leader whom I greatly respected, called to encourage me. So did many Democrats from New York and around the country. As flattering as the attention was, I felt that other seasoned New York Democrats would be better suited to enter the race. Congresswoman Nita Lowey, New York State Comptroller H. Carl McCall and Andrew Cuomo, Secretary of Housing and Urban Development in the Clinton Administration, were at the top of the list.

The likely GOP nominee, New York City’s mayor, Rudolph Giuliani, would be a formidable opponent for any Democratic candidate. Party leaders, worried about losing a longtime Democratic seat, were intent on fielding a similarly high-profile candidate who could raise the staggering amounts of money that such a race requires. In a sense, I was a desperation choice―a well-known public figure who might be able to offset Giuliani’s national profile and his party’s deep pockets. In that context, it wasn’t surprising that the idea of my candidacy was resuscitated a few days into the new year during the taping of NBC’s Meet the Press.

The guest on Sunday, January 3, was Senator Robert Torricelli of New Jersey, who, as head of the Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee, was responsible for recruiting candidates and raising money for Democratic campaigns. The host, Tim Russert, had asked Torricelli about the race before the show and announced on the air that Torricelli believed I would run.

When I heard about Torricelli’s remarks, I called him. “Bob, you’re out there talking about my life,” I said. “You know I’m not running. Why are you saying this?” Torricelli sidestepped the question, knowing full well that he had opened the floodgates. Andrew Cuomo and Carl McCall took themselves out of the race, choosing to focus instead on the 2002 gubernatorial contest, and Nita Lowey said she would wait to decide whether to wage a campaign of her own.

With each of these developments, public speculation about my entry into the race intensified.

But privately, I was being counseled against it. The few friends I spoke to consistently urged me not to run. My top White House staff were also opposed. They worried about the stresses I would be subjected to as a candidate and the emotional costs of a lengthy campaign.

When King Hussein of Jordan died on February 7 after a brave struggle with cancer, Bill and I put everything else aside for a few days to make another long, mournful journey to the Middle East to the Jordanian capital of Amman. Former Presidents Ford, Carter and Bush traveled on Air Force One. The prospects for peace in the Middle East suffered irreparable losses with the deaths of two great men, Rabin and now Hussein. The streets of Amman were crowded with mourners from all over the world. Queen Noor, dressed in black and wearing a white head scarf, graciously greeted the dignitaries who came to pay their respects to her remarkable husband. Shortly before his death, the King had designated his eldest son, Abdullah, as his successor. King Abdullah and his gifted Queen, Rania, have more than fulfilled expectations, bringing great energy and grace to their difficult responsibilities.

When we returned home from the King’s funeral, the impeachment trial was a dark cloud hanging over our family. Bill and I were still struggling to repair our relationship and trying to protect Chelsea from the fallout on Capitol Hill. Thrown into this mix was the public pressure I felt to make a decision about the Senate race, a decision that would have immediate and long-term consequences in my life and my family’s.

A conversation with Harold Ickes, an expert on New York politics, persuaded me that I had to acknowledge the growing public pressure to run and take the question of a campaign seriously. Harold’s greatest asset as a friend is his candor, even bluntness. Although he is a truly sweet and lovely man, he has a bark that can scare you to death.

Every other word is an expletive, even when he’s dishing out a compliment. In his typically colorful way, he offered some advice.

“If you think you’re not gonna run, then go out and issue a Shermanesque statement,”

Harold said. “But if you’re still mulling it over, don’t say anything yet. With impeachment going on, nobody is going to press you on it right now anyway.”

Harold and I agreed to meet on February 12, the day, it turned out, that