Bob Woodward

by State of Denial (lit)

  Maybe within the hour, Rove said. Less than 10 minutes later he said that Ohio was now assured. But the networks still weren't calling it.

  At 12:51 A.M., Card decided that the numbers were sufficiently clear and overwhelming. Congratulations, Card said, turning to Rove, we just won the election. He and Rove hugged. Rice and Rove hugged too.

  After 1 a.m., Card called Cahill again.

  Cahill said the Kerry campaign felt confident.

  Card was caught a bit off guard. Okay. Do you think we're going to do— Is there going to be a phone call? He meant a concession call from Kerry to Bush.

  We won't be calling you, Cahill replied. She seemed to be half asking whether Bush would be calling Kerry to concede.

  Among the close Bush friends at the White House was Mary Matalin, 51, Queen of the Republican Sound Bite and the outspoken longtime communications expert for the Bushes going back nearly two decades. Most recently she had been the communications director for Vice President Cheney for several years. Both the former president, 41, and current president, 43, hugged and embraced her when she arrived.

  Matalin is married to James Carville, a Democrat who had been chief political strategist for Bill Clinton in 1992. He was not directly involved in the Kerry campaign but was still very plugged in. She called him.

  Look, I know this is hard for you, she told him sympathetically.

  Carville told her he had some inside news. The Kerry campaign was going to challenge the provisional ballots in Ohio—perhaps up to 250,000 of them. I don't agree with it, Carville said. I'm just telling you that's what they're talking about.

  Matalin went to Cheney to report.

  What? the vice president asked. Federal law required that provisional ballots be provided to people who showed up to vote but whose names could not be found on the registration rolls. They could be checked later in a close election. If there were really 250,000 provisional votes, they might change the result in Ohio or at least tie the result up for days or longer.

  You'd better tell the president, Cheney told her.

  Matalin and Cheney located Bush and the three went off to sit down in a corner.

  They're going to contest it, Matalin said.

  What does that mean? the president asked. He had his note cards with talking points in hand, ready to go over to the Reagan Building to declare victory.

  Matalin said somebody in authority needed to get in touch with J. Kenneth Blackwell, the Republican secretary of state in Ohio, who would be in charge of any challenge to the provisional votes.

  At 1:30 a.m., Mary Beth Cahill released a statement. The vote count in Ohio has not been completed. There are more than 250,000 remaining votes to be counted, she said, referring to the provisional ballots. We believe when they are, John Kerry will win Ohio.

  At the White House it looked like Carville had given Matalin good information. While two major networks, NBC and Fox, had called Ohio for Bush, the obvious implication was that it was not over.

  By 1:49 a.m., Rove was on his cell phone with the Nevada secretary of state's office. A Bush victory in the state would be announced in 20 minutes. Barring a contested election in Ohio, Nevada would put Bush over the top.

  Rice was listening in. A Bush win seemed surer than ever. Congratulations, she said to Rove, after all we did to screw it up.

  About 2 a.m., Jim Francis, who had been chairman of Bush's two successful races for Texas governor, was alone with the president off to one side on the second floor of the White House residence. They had been friends for 34 years, beginning in 1970, when Francis had been the 21-year-old scheduler for Congressman George H. W. Bush in his unsuccessful run for a Texas Senate seat.

  George, Francis said to the president, I've just got to tell you, you're the toughest son of a bitch I've ever seen. No president has ever had so many guns lined up at him. The 527s —the independent campaign organizations that financed massive TV advertising— the national press, the diplomatic corps, every Democratic interest group, plus the Democratic National Committee, plus the Kerry campaign. The whole world was trying to take you down. And you beat them all.

  Bush mumbled a thank-you. Tears welled in his eyes, and he threw his arms around Francis in a bear hug. Francis realized that it was the way George W Bush saw himself: tough and resolute, standing strong against the world.

  Bush was soon on the phone again with Rove. It seemed to Rove that the president was calling every two or three minutes now. If it was true that he had won, Bush wanted to know, why wasn't the rest of the world—television, Kerry—abiding by reality?

  Rove promised to get back to the president after he matched more hard numbers with his expectations in key counties and states. He's going insane, Rove said to Susan Ralston, his assistant, who dutifully recorded the remark in her notes at 2:16 a.m.

  Bartlett talked with one of the vice presidents at Fox News Channel, the conservative cable television outlet whose ratings were soaring and whose CEO, Roger Ailes, had been Bush senior's media consultant. Ailes was being careful this night not to talk with the White House directly. But the network official Bartlett spoke with was relaying a message from Ailes for Rove. In 2000, Fox had been the first network to call the contested state of Florida, and thus the election, for Bush. This time, the message from Ailes was You don't want me to be the first one to call it.

  Matalin and Scooter Libby were talking about sending Cheney with Bush over to the Reagan Building, where their supporters were gathered for the expected victory party. He'd have to be alert and ready to speak.

  Go get him somewhere where he can sleep, she said. Don't send him home.

  Cheney went into his office to sleep, while his wife, Lynne, went to rest in the White House doctor's office.

  Keep me apprised, Libby requested of Matalin when she went to the War Room.

  Just come down and keep yourself apprised, Matalin replied. Because this has a lot of moving parts.

  Bush came back down to the War Room, pacing about and waiting. At 2:35 a.m. he was watching Dan Rather on CBS. In September, Rather had reported in a 60 Minutes II segment that Texas National Guard documents showed Bush had received favorable treatment when he had joined in 1968. The documents turned out to be apparent forgeries.

  CBS is horrible, Bush said.

  At 2:43 a.m. someone noted that Bush was ahead 3.8 million in the popular vote nationwide.

  If the popular vote made it, Bush said snidely to Rove, I wouldn't be here.

  We're ahead in the electoral vote, Rove reminded the president.

  Bush took a call from British Prime Minister Tony Blair. It was morning in London, and Blair had gone to bed thinking Bush was going to lose. He was frankly stunned that Bush was still in the race, let alone a likely winner.

  Latest I've been up since college, Bush told Blair. I need one more state.

  Rove reported that they would get a proposed statement from Blackwell in Ohio within the next half hour. Blackwell, a former black-power-saluting student leader who had shifted to the Republican Party, was a lone ranger who shunned party discipline.

  I'm the president of the United States, Bush said fuming, waiting on a secretary of state who is a nut.

  He paced the room, hands in his pockets, chewing nervously on his cigar. Rove said that the Associated Press was going to call Nevada for Bush.

  Can I get my coat? Bush asked sarcastically.

  In Ohio, Blackwell reported there were likely no more than 175,000 provisional ballots, making it almost impossible for Kerry to overcome Bush's lead of about 140,000 votes. But Blackwell still wouldn't call it.

  Reports came in that the networks wanted to go off the air without calling the race for either candidate.

  Rove shouted, They can't go off the air!

  At 3:36 a.m., a very sensitive communication from the Kerry camp was relayed to Rove and Bartlett at the White House. Mike McCurry, Clinton's former White House press secretary and a last-minute addition to the Kerry campaign, had e-mailed Nico
le Devenish, the Bush campaign communications director, an off-the-record congratulations, advising that the Bush team should not try to force a resolution now. Don't pressure Kerry, McCurry said. In the end, he believed Kerry would do the right thing.

  Bartlett and others told Bush about the e-mail, summarizing the message as We'll do the right thing at the right time. They could trust that McCurry would be in a position to know what the Kerry campaign was thinking, Bartlett said, but they had to be careful not to put too much stock in it. At least we know there are people in the Kerry camp giving rational advice, Bartlett said.

  Bush again declared that he was tired. I'm not going to stay up all night, he said. Come and wake me when you know what's going on.

  What should we do? Rove asked Card at 4:24. Networks won't announce.

  Card said they should declare victory. He was worried about a vacuum, about another Florida. This was a battle being fought on many fronts, and second only to the hard numbers was the perception battle. We know we won. We should declare it.

  They woke the president and got him on a speakerphone with the War Room.

  Card and Jim Francis made it clear they thought the president should go to the Reagan Building and give his victory speech. It would be a kind of preemptive strike. Otherwise the media would peck the situation to death. They had to fill the vacuum. Provide the news. Make the headline Bush Declares Victory! The declaration would become reality.

  Francis weighed in strongly. The Democrats are going to attempt to turn Ohio into Florida, and act like it's a 500-vote difference instead of 150,000 votes. They could not let it wind up in limbo—litigation, recounts, court fights. The margin of 140,000 to 150,000 votes in Ohio was not a landslide, but it was a lot more than 537—the deciding margin in Florida in 2000.

  Rove had earlier been in favor of making the victory speech, but now, at about 4:30 a.m., he reconsidered. What was the point? Who was the audience? The people in the Reagan Building? Everyone else was asleep.

  Matalin, who had been sleeping on the floor in the War Room, woke up about 4:40 a.m. Within five minutes she joined the debate.

  What's the pivot? she asked. If Bush went out now and declared victory, the press would wonder what had changed in the last hour or two. They would ask, Why now and not an hour ago? The media might latch on to it. The absence of a reason could become part of the story line. What would they say?

  Steve Hadley had been summoned to the War Room from the Roosevelt Room, where he had been waiting and watching, occasionally running up to Rove's office to check in. Usually a model of caution, Hadley weighed in. A preemptive declaration of victory would be the worst thing the president could do, he said. Don't jam Kerry. Don't pressure him. Over the next two or three hours the numbers that Rove had seen would be clear to Kerry. The margins were sufficient, even big, in Ohio. If you jam him, the lawyers will go and it's a mess.

  Bartlett agreed. It was exactly the advice they'd received from McCurry. The president should stay put. The validation of victory had to come from either the media, preferably television, or even better from a Kerry concession. Bartlett then threw up a giant cautionary flag.

  John Kerry, for seven hours or so, was president of the United States in his mind, Bartlett said, and was being treated like it and acted like it, I'm sure.

  Don't jam him, Hadley repeated.

  He's right, Matalin interjected. He's absolutely right.

  Jim Francis continued to argue passionately for an immediate declaration of victory. They had to leverage the 150,000-vote lead. Two TV networks found it sufficient. Another legal hell had to be avoided. Don't jam Kerry? That was exactly what they needed to do. They had done it throughout the campaign. Why stop now? The act of having the president of the United States declare victory would carry its own weight, and make things more difficult for Kerry.

  Soon Francis and Bartlett were in a heated debate.

  There's a box in the corner of every television set in America, Bartlett said, that doesn't say the requisite number of electoral votes. He needed 270 to win and the networks showed only 269. People are going to think it's presumptuous for us to do this. He suggested they all take comfort in the knowledge they had won. There was no debate on that point. We know it. Let's be patient.

  No, Francis repeated, the reality was the Florida precedent, the prospect of legal skirmishes, lawsuits all over again. They had to do anything and everything to head that off. They're going to have lawyers on the tube at 7 a.m., talking about how they're going to milk this, stop the clock, and they're going to run the show. And they're going to take it from us.

  Over the speakerphone Bush was mumbling, apparently in agreement. Bartlett knew all too well that the suggestion that someone was going to take something from Bush would bring out the fighter.

  Several in the War Room thought they could almost hear Bush putting on his coat.

  Bartlett fired off the most powerful ammunition he could muster. You cannot go out there and put the crown on your own head, Bartlett finally summarized. You just can't do it.

  There was a second or two of silence.

  Laura thinks the same thing, Bush replied over the speakerphone. Laura doesn't think I ought to go out either.

  Card was still pressing at 4:59 a.m.

  Let's do it tomorrow, Bush finally said.

  Hadley believed it had been Bartlett's finest moment, holding off the cascade. If Bush went it might have forced a confrontation, with legions of lawyers and a huge mess.

  Of his own small role in arguing against the stampede to the Reagan Building, Hadley later joked to a colleague, That may be the most useful thing I did in four years.

  If Bush wasn't going to declare victory, Card felt somebody at least had to go and say something, especially to the crowd at the Reagan Building. He was nominated. He reached the Reagan Building at about 5:30 a.m.

  We are convinced that President Bush has won reelection with at least 286 electoral college votes, Card told the thin crowd that had stuck it out. And he also had a margin of more than 3.5 million popular votes.

  He offered a careful and deliberate olive branch. President Bush decided to give Senator Kerry the respect of more time to reflect on the results of this election. The president will be making a statement later today.

  Kerry was up by 7 a.m. talking things over with three of his top campaign aides. He had decisions to make.

  First, he could mount a challenge in Ohio based on the provisional ballots. But the number of provisionals was roughly equivalent to Bush's lead in the state, so Kerry would have to take virtually all of them.

  Second, he could challenge Ohio based on allegations of voting irregularities.

  The third option Kerry had to consider was the most dramatic. His campaign had a dossier that showed how people in Democratic precincts in Ohio waited three, four, five and seven hours to vote. In Republican precincts there were no lines, it seemed, and voters went through in five minutes, even three minutes. Eight voting machines in some Republican precincts, and only one or two in Democratic precincts, that kind of thing. There was a real disparity.

  It could be unbelievably powerful, Kerry thought. He could fly to Ohio with his full press entourage, and stand with a whole bunch of people who had been disenfranchised. He could literally camp out in Akron, perhaps, with his running mate, Senator John Edwards, in Columbus. They would say, This election was a fraud in Ohio and the United States of America deserves a president of the United States who is properly elected. And we're going to court to challenge under the due process clause of the Constitution. People's right to vote was not accorded to them. And we want, one week from now: Ohio votes for president.

  Bush and the White House and the Republicans would have been in a huge moral morass, Kerry believed. What could Bush do? Fight having a fair election for president?

  But the biggest impact on Kerry was the number of provisional votes. There just weren't enough provisionals that he could overcome on the numbers.


  Kerry realized that fighting would mean leaving the country in disarray for the second presidential election in a row. It was a decision he would have to make himself. He decided to accept the result. To do otherwise, he said later in an interview, would have been personal. It would have been venal. It would have been just the wrong thing to do when you're running for president of the United States. It's just what my gut told me. It just said to me, 'Look, this is the presidency.' And as much as I fought for it and as much as we care about what we fought for, there are larger interests that you've got to think about. Ironically, though he would not become president, he said, It was sort of the kind of presidential moment if you will, and I felt the right thing to do at that point was not prolong the agony and not put the country through it no matter how personally invested in it we all were.

  He added, Based on the numbers we had, you would have had to challenge the underlying foundation of the election. And as strongly as I feel that it is flawed, deeply flawed, I made just the fundamental decision that that was the wrong thing to do.

  Around 10:30 a.m., November 3, Kerry called Cahill to say that he was not going to challenge the election in Ohio or anywhere else. He would call Bush and concede. What's the telephone number? he asked her.

  An assistant at the White House put Kerry through to Bush. Rove, Card, Hughes, Bartlett and Gerson were in the Oval Office.

  Congratulations, Mr. President, Kerry said.

  You were a very, very tough opponent, Bush said. You really gave us a run for it. I hope you are proud of the effort you put in. You should be.

  Mr. President, this is really a moment for the nation to come together. People are yearning for it. And I hope you'll take advantage of this to speak to the nation and bring people together and really reach out. I'm prepared to work with you to try to do the things we need to do.

  Bush said Laura and he wished Kerry and his wife and family the best. Both men made a few more benign but warm comments, and said goodbye.