When it comes to the Clinton campaign’s response to Bill Richardson’s support for Barack Obama, it was a little striking to hear Mark Penn dismiss the governor with such a cavalier attitude: “The time that he could have been effective has long since passed,” Penn said, “I don’t think it is a significant endorsement in this environment.”
Given that both Clintons were still leaning on Richardson as recently as a week ago, it seemed like an odd thing to say.
But that was nothing compared to where some campaign surrogates were prepared to go. (via Atrios)
…Mr. Richardson stopped returning Mr. Clinton’s calls days ago, Mr. Clinton’s aides said. And as of Friday, Mr. Richardson said, he had yet to pick up the phone to tell Mr. Clinton of his decision.
The reaction of some of Mr. Clinton’s allies suggests that might have been a wise decision. “An act of betrayal,” said James Carville, an adviser to Mrs. Clinton and a friend of Mr. Clinton.
“Mr. Richardson’s endorsement came right around the anniversary of the day when Judas sold out for 30 pieces of silver, so I think the timing is appropriate, if ironic,” Mr. Carville said, referring to Holy Week.
In all likelihood, this should probably just be dismissed as an over-heated reaction from an overly-enthusiastic campaign surrogate.
But I’d argue the Judas comparison actually points to an inherent contradiction with the Clinton campaign’s pitch that has existed for months.
I mentioned this yesterday, but this exchange has been in my head since it happened immediately after the Iowa caucuses.
The preternaturally jolly [Terry] McAuliffe is a good mad to have spinning for you in a pinch. But his good cheer dimmed when I asked him about Bill Richardson, who appears to have made an 11th-hour deal to throw his supporters to Obama [in the Iowa caucuses].
“How many times did [Clinton] appoint him?” McAuliffe marveled. “Two? U.N. Ambassador and Energy Secretary?” He looked at me, half-glaring, awaiting confirmation. “I don’t know,” I joked, “but who’s counting?” “I am,” McAuliffe said firmly.
The reason this stuck with me is the same reason I found the Judas comparison so striking. As the argument goes, Bill Clinton did a lot to help Bill Richardson, so he should feel an obligation to support Bill Clinton’s wife. To do otherwise is a “betrayal.”
But if we accept Hillary Clinton’s rhetoric at face value, there’s no treachery here at all. To hear the senator tell it, she’s running as her own person. She should be judged on her merits, not her last name. Her campaign isn’t the restoration of Clinton rule; it’s the candidacy of one qualified U.S. senator, running on her own record and her own qualifications.
Except when it isn’t.
Why should it matter if someone who Bill Clinton helped endorses Barack Obama? Why, exactly, does Carville think the “timing is appropriate” in relation to Judas? Why is Terry McAuliffe counting how many jobs Richardson got from the former president?
It’s likely because, when push comes to shove, the distinction between Hillary Clinton’s candidacy and Bill Clinton’s presidency is not quite as great as the campaign ostensibly believes. The message isn’t subtle — if Bill helped you, you owe Hillary.
This is a mistake. Hillary Clinton is a strong candidate with tremendous skills. She’d make a fine president. But seeing her top supporters arguing publicly that she and her husband are one in the same, and that her campaign really is about restoring Clinton rule, does more harm than good.