All Too Human: A Political Education (68 page)

On September 21, my heart caught up with my head. The videotape of Clinton's grand jury testimony was about to be played to the whole country, and I was wired up in a small room at ABC, watching the monitor next to the television camera that would broadcast my commentary on Clinton's testimony.

The tape started to roll, and even before the questions began, it had the quality of an amateur porn flick: The fixed camera angle gave the room a generic look, the lighting was bright and unforgiving, the ambient noise and off-screen conversations made me feel as if I were eavesdropping on a private encounter caught by a hidden taping device. Most unnerving was the close-up of Clinton — the picture of a president of the United States alone and unprotected. No American flag, no presidential seal, no Oval Office desk. Just a man in a straight-backed chair, facing a grand jury of his peers and the prosecutors who had ruined his life. The picture screamed,
“No president is above the law.”

When the questions quickly turned to sex and Clinton began to read his public admission, I felt a tug inside. Maybe it came from seeing his reading glasses again — the old-fashioned half bifocals that we always encouraged Clinton to wear for photographs because they gave him a fatherly air. Now they just made him seem tired and old. Clinton's words were more annoying than moving. He was still trying to slide around the truth. But the whole scene was heartbreaking. For the first time in months, I began to sympathize with my former boss.

After reading his statement, Clinton removed his glasses and waited for the questions to resume. For a silent moment he was not on — not trying to charm, persuade, evade, or empathize, not relying on the ambivalent skills that had propelled him through a lifetime of political triumphs but also landed him in that room today. He was a man alone with his failings before the whole world, a man forced to confess sins that had devastated his family and undone the hopes of his life, a man ashamed. He sighed. His face fell, the last breath from an all-but-deflated balloon. Off camera, I quietly started to cry.

“Mister SPEAK-KERRR, the PRESIDENT of the UNITED STATES!”

Clinton followed the sergeant at arms into the House chamber shortly after nine
P.M.
on January 19, 1999, just as he always did — soaking up the applause, grabbing a few hands on each side of the aisle, impatiently eyeing the podium that held his State of the Union Address. The speech was sure to be a winner; it always was. But as he bounded toward the Speaker's chair and patted the air with his hands to quiet the crowd, Clinton seemed nervous to me — and who could blame him? A month earlier, in that same chamber, he had become the first elected president in American history to be impeached.

Acting with a recklessness that matched Clinton's, the Republican majority in the House had passed two impeachment articles on a near party-line vote, and they were paying a price. A year into the Monica scandal, their poll numbers were in the tank, while Clinton's were higher than ever. Two Republican Speakers had resigned; Clinton was still standing. He might never be able to erase the stain of impeachment, but neither would they. In Clinton's Senate trial earlier that day, White House counsel Charles Ruff had made a powerful opening argument for acquittal. Tonight, the president was mounting the podium in his own defense.

“My fellow Americans, I stand before you to report that the state of our union is strong.” Never mentioning the issue that had consumed his presidency, but armed with an arsenal of popular proposals on everything from Social Security to health care to education to crime, Clinton made his own best case, doing what he did best. Halfway through, he even started toying with his Republican tormentors. When they clapped, he praised them for getting into the bipartisan spirit; when they sat on their hands through a surefire applause line, he shot them a competitor's glare — a look that said,
“You guys can pound me all you want. Tonight you're mine.”
When he basked in the reflected heroism of Rosa Parks smiling from the balcony, he seemed like a man without a care in the world.

Sitting across town in what had become my usual chair at ABC, I had to laugh, delighting in the sheer political virtuosity of Clinton's performance — even the “I love you” he mouthed to Hillary as if the whole world wouldn't notice. “This is our moment,” Clinton said as he drew to a close. And he was right. America was doing fine — better than fine, better than I ever could have imagined that morning six years ago, when I handed him his Inaugural Address minutes before he took the oath and promised the country to “force the spring.” Now I watched from far away, enjoying the show but wondering too. Wondering what might have been — if only this good president had been a better man.

NOTE ON SOURCING

I did not keep a diary while I worked in the White House, but on about a dozen weekend afternoons at that time, I had a series of conversations with my friend Eric Alterman. Eric, who was working on his dissertation in American history at Stanford University, taped and stored these talks to create a historical record. After I left the White House he allowed me to use this material for my book. It could not have been written without his warm friendship, probing questions, rigorous criticism, and personal discretion.

I also tried to follow the advice given to me by William Safire. Early in my tenure, he encouraged me to jot down personal observations when I could and “throw the paper in a drawer.” Several of these observations appear in this book.

The direct quotations in this book are real, not reconstructed. They come largely from my personal notes, Eric's tapes, and occasionally from secondary printed sources.

Other books written about Clinton and his presidency were invaluable as I prepared this account, most notably
On the Edge
and
Showdown,
by Elizabeth Drew;
The Agenda
and
The Choice
, by Bob Woodward;
First in His Class,
by David Maraniss;
Quest for the Presidency, 1992
and
Back From the Dead,
by
Newsweek's
political team;
Behind the Oval Office,
by Dick Morris;
Blood Sport,
by James Stewart;
The System,
by Haynes Johnson and David Broder; and
Not All Black and White,
by Christopher Edley.

Finally, for each incident I chose to write about, I reviewed articles in the
Washington Post,
the
New York Times,
and other major periodicals.
The Public Papers of the Presidents
from 1993-1996 were also exceedingly helpful.

I used no classified material in preparing this book.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I couldn't have written this book without the support, friendship, and advice of countless family and friends. To anyone I missed, I apologize in advance.

William Novak was the best writing coach a first-time author could ask for. From our first meeting through to the evening I read him the last line of my last draft, he was never more than a phone call away. He spent months in 1997 interviewing me for dozens of hours, transcribing the notes and helping me to organize my thoughts. When I actually began writing, I had the luxury of reading him my daily output over the phone and receiving his suggestions. Once the draft was completed, his edits helped clear away the clutter in my writing. Bill was also a good friend, reminding me that writer's block was not a permanent condition and welcoming me into his home. I'm also grateful to Linda and the rest of the Novak family for their hospitality, and a special thanks to Ben Novak for his fresh and careful read of an early draft.

If Bill Novak was my coach, my editor, Bill Phillips, acted like a good director. He pushed me to tell my story as I lived it, to feel the experience again, and to be honest with myself and my readers. There were times when I felt he understood the narrative even better than I did. Bill's vision and enthusiasm never failed to pump me up. I'm also grateful for the encouragement I received from Gladys Phillips, and the help of Nicole Hirsh. Little, Brown's publisher, Sarah Crichton, never failed to make me excited about the book, and I appreciate her patience and savvy.

Peter Osnos, publisher of
Public Affairs
, was a bluntly shrewd reader and wise counselor.

A number of close friends took the time to review, discuss, and improve my manuscript, including M. J. Rosenberg, Dan Porterfield, Karen Herrling, David Dreyer, Mark Steitz, Mark Halperin, Karen Avrich, Diana Silver, and Wendy Smith. Thanks also to Betsy Uhrig of Little, Brown for her meticulous copyediting. Barney Frank, Paul Begala, Gene Sperling, Mark Katz, and Michael Waldman helped refresh my recollection about various episodes in the book. Whatever errors of judgment and fact remain are mine alone.

Columbia's Jenny Parker and Chris Glaros ran my life in a way that made it possible for me to write this book. In addition to organizing my often chaotic schedule and managing my office, Jenny was a thoughtful reader and research assistant. Before heading west for Stanford Law School, Chris was both my teaching assistant at Columbia and research assistant on this book, reviewing thousands of pages of public records and making sure I got my facts straight. Both Jenny and Chris helped supervise interns Leora Hanser, Jacob Kupietzky, Nandini Ramnath, Margaret Connolly, Allison Mascorro, James Frederick Carson, Jennifer Credidio, Georgia Aarons, John Ray Clemmons, Meena Untawale, Lauren Rosenberg, Stefan Davis, and Robert Mook. Thanks to all.

A special word also for Heather Beckel, Laura Capps, Emily Lentzner, Stacy Parker, and Marlene McDonald, who did such a good job as my assistants during the 1992 campaign and in the White House.

My agent and attorney, Bob Barnett of Williams and Connolly, is a good lawyer and good friend. Thanks also to Jackie Davies and Sylvia Faison.

And a final thank-you to Kirk O'Donnell and Ann Devroy. They taught me much about politics and life. I miss them both.

ACCLAIM FOR GEORGE STEPHANOPOULOS'S
ALL TOO HUMAN

“A candid and highly readable memoir … fueled less by any score-settling agenda than by an insider's preoccupation with process and a natural storyteller's fondness for vivid characters and anecdotes. … It is a portrait of a White House riven by infighting and disorganization, and an indefatigable if often indecisive President given to volcanic rages and sentimental spasms. … A lively memoir.”

— Michiko Kakutani,
New York Times

“It's the raw stuff of history. … Stephanopoulos takes readers behind the scenes to show tense arguments between Clinton and his staff, tantrums and tender moments with Hillary Rodham Clinton, and a leader whose efforts to manipulate uncomfortable truths only made matters worse.”

— Josh Getlin,
Los Angeles Times

“The reflective, honest tone makes this book essential for anyone trying to understand life inside big-time politics. It's free of the too-tidy anecdotes that clog most political memoirs. The stories ring real, and they're well rendered. Mr. Stephanopoulos has an ear for pithy characterization and a judicious sense of where Bill Clinton went not just wrong, but right.”

— Jonathan Alter,
New York Observer

“An honest and revealing book, in many respects … insightful about the workings of the White House staff.”

— Owen Ullman,
Business Week

“A vivid evocation of politics as it is lived at the highest level. …
All Too Human
is one of the finest volumes of political memoirs to appear on either side of the Atlantic during this century. It is subtle and acute, beautifully written and beautifully constructed. It will be read with pleasure in a hundred years' time.”

— Anthony King,
Political Science Quarterly

“Stephanopoulos was an eager player in the inner game. … He is candid about the mental and emotional toll levied by his constant desire to please Clinton amid all the White House tensions and conspiracies.”

— Marianne Means,
Houston Chronicle

“Shrewd observations abound. …
All Too Human
is an insightful, indeed a painfully revealing, book.”

— Harry C. McPherson Jr.,
The Hill

“Stephanopoulos tells his calculated story well, with a novelist's flair for sketching scenes and characters.”

— Walter Kirn,
New York Magazine

“An intriguing memoir. … A valuable look inside this dysfunctional White House. … With welcome touches of irony,
All Too Human
depicts the insider's world of power politics.”

— Philip Seib,
Dallas Morning News

“Stephanopoulos gives an insider's view. … He tells his story with verve and color. … He is at his most lyrical describing the romance of the early days of a presidential campaign. …
All Too Human
provides glimpses of the major players as we haven't seen them before.”

— Adam Cohen,
Chicago Tribune

“An intimate memoir … a rare behind-the-scenes view of the presidency. … Readers may relish the juicy details of life in the scandal-plagued Clinton White House.”

—
San Francisco Chronicle

“Rare and admirable … a bittersweet memoir. … To fully understand the Faustian bargain that comes with apprenticing yourself to a presidential contender, you need to read every page of
All Too Human
.”

— Walter Shapiro,
USA Today

“Reflective, brutally honest, funny in parts. … Stephanopoulos is gifted with a mercurial mixture of political radicalism and astute diplomacy. …
All Too Human
is
the
book about the Clinton years.”

— Ed Vulliamy,
The Observer
(London)