Free All Too Human: A Political Education by George Stephanopoulos

Clinton's signature issues, Cuomo was helping define him — as the un-Cuomo, the new Democrat who wasn't afraid to challenge party orthodoxy. An attack from Cuomo was also a sign that we mattered. Maybe he was hearing footsteps.
    Dionne wrote a small story that included a quote from me defending Clinton's ideas and challenging Cuomo to “let the debate begin.” Any ambivalence I felt about taking on one of my political idols was balanced by my frustration at the way Cuomo was toying with the race, by my convincing myself that Cuomo was criticizing a caricature of the Clinton proposals rather than the ideas themselves, and by Dionne's observation that the Clinton campaign “fired back immediately.” E. J. was sending a signal to the political world, telling it, I imagined,
“If you hit Clinton, he hits back. His campaign won't repeat the mistakes of the past.”
But I couldn't help wondering what Cuomo thought when he read my words, or what I would have thought and said had I been working for him instead.
    Cuomo was telling people that he couldn't decide about the race until he finished work on his budget in Albany. Thankfully for us, an external deadline forced his hand: the final filing date for the New Hampshire primary was December 20.
    The twentieth was a Friday, and that entire week felt like one long election day, waiting for results you could no longer pretend to control. Work was impossible; all we cared about was information about Cuomo's intentions. We scrutinized every statement, rumor, and hint for possible clues. Cuomo chartered a plane for a flight to Manchester —
must be getting in
. But Republicans in his state senate were holding firm in budget talks —
maybe he can't get in
. We seemed to have the most to lose if Cuomo entered the race, which is why we were desperately trying to convince ourselves that we wanted him in, that his entry, which was probably inevitable, would actually work to our advantage. “The only way to be a heavyweight is to beat a heavyweight” was our new mantra.
    Clinton was on his way to Tennessee that Friday, where a throat specialist would make the first try at treating his persistent hoarseness. Anticipating the worst — or the best, depending on your point of view — we had prepared a statement for Clinton welcoming Cuomo into the race. As the filing deadline approached, CNN went live with cameras in Albany and New Hampshire. They even had a camera trained on the idling plane. Then Bernie Shaw broke in with a bulletin. Cuomo was out. The first big break of the campaign.
    Clinton was just about to exit when I reached his plane. “Don't get off,” I said. “Listen to this.” Cuomo approached the microphones to make it official, and I simulcasted his statement to Clinton over the phone. Clinton seemed unfazed by the news, but I knew he was making the calculations in his head, and I guessed he was pleased. One of the reasons he had been so reluctant to hit Cuomo early was to avoid prodding him into the race in a fit of personal pique. Without pausing to comment, Clinton dictated a gracious statement for me to release to the press.
    Meanwhile, Rahm Emanuel was playing the tough guy. “Damn.” His fists pounding his thighs. “It would have been so great if he came in. We'd rip his head off.” But he didn't linger. Cuomo's decision would free up a lot of New York money, so he had to hit the phones.
    David Wilhelm then came into my office, and for a moment we just looked at each other across the desk. Like me, he was more liberal than centrist, more old than new Democrat.
    “You didn't want him in, did you?”
    “What, are you kidding?”
    “Me neither.”
    Not a single vote had been cast, but the complicated, almost alchemic process that creates conventional wisdom had made Clinton the front-runner. A similar process was solidifying my spot in Clinton's inner circle. The daily phone calls, endless meetings, late-night games of hearts on the plane, and early-morning