Rising Star

by David Garrow

  With Barack unopposed in both the March Democratic primary and the general election, he told the Hyde Park Herald, “I’m going to spend the next year assessing what my plans might be.” As plummeting state revenues led to calls to reduce Illinois’s budget, Barack insisted that “the worst thing state government can do during a recession is cut spending.” Looking to 2004, a political column in the suburban Daily Herald declared that “Illinois is too liberal” for Republican U.S. senator Peter Fitzgerald to be reelected if Democrats nominate “a quality opponent.” The Herald said that young state comptroller Dan Hynes, progressive U.S. representative Jan Schakowsky, and state legislators Tom Dart, Lisa Madigan, and Barack were among those “already being mentioned” as possible candidates. The next day Barack wrote a check for $5,000, two and a half times his largest political contribution ever, from his state campaign account to his Senate colleague Lisa Madigan’s run for attorney general.50

  In addition to his $8,000-a-month consulting income from Robert Blackwell Jr.’s EKI, Barack in early 2002 invested some time in Miner Barnhill’s effort to recover more than $150,000 in fees for its work defending the congressional apportionment that had produced Chicago’s first Hispanic-majority district a decade earlier. The state of Illinois had played an entirely passive role in the case, so the successful defense of the map had been handled almost entirely by the defendant-intervenors, represented by Judd Miner and others. But to win a fee award, Miner Barnhill had to argue for “an exception to the general rule that precludes defendants from recovering fees.” Barack’s colleague John Belcaster could not “see a pathway to success,” so Judd asked Barack to tackle the problem. Belcaster recalled that “Barack stays at it and puts together a spellbinding brief,” one that persuaded U.S. District Judge David H. Coar to award Miner Barnhill its entire $154,695 fee request. In commending Barack’s brief, Coar wrote that “the intervenors offer a thoughtful discussion of the policy implications at play in this case,” and “there is no question that the defendant-intervenors’ efforts merit a fee award.” It was an unprecedented order, but the Seventh Circuit Court of Appeals unanimously affirmed Coar’s ruling.

  In March, a Senate Judiciary Committee hearing addressed a trio of antiabortion bills targeting late-term procedures. “It was a very difficult hearing,” Barack’s Democratic colleague Ira Silverstein recalled, “very emotional, very tough,” because of the highly graphic testimony offered by the bills’ proponents. “You could have heard a pin drop,” Republican Dan Cronin remembered, before a party-line vote of 6–3, with prochoice Republican Adeline Geo-Karis voting present, sent the bills to the Senate floor. On March 19, Rob Blagojevich narrowly won the Democratic gubernatorial nomination over Paul Vallas, whom he had vastly outspent, triumphing by twenty-five thousand votes thanks to winning 55 percent of the vote downstate, where he had advertised heavily on television. African American Roland Burris finished a strong third, with more than 29 percent of the vote. Blagojevich’s slogan—“My name is eastern European, my story is American”—went a long way toward alleviating doubts about his unusual surname, but Burris’s presence in the race, especially his strong showing in Chicago, had allowed Blagojevich to win a race that otherwise would have gone to Vallas. In the Republican primary, Attorney General Jim Ryan easily outdistanced conservative state senator Patrick O’Malley and moderate lieutenant governor Corinne Wood. Barack received all 30,938 Democratic votes in the 13th Senate District, but wealthy black health executive Joyce Washington piled up more than 362,000 votes statewide while losing the Democratic race for lieutenant governor to gadfly Pat Quinn. Emil Jones had backed Washington strongly, and Capitol Fax’s Rich Miller declared that Washington had shown “incredible charisma and potential.”51

  On April 2, federal prosecutors indicted Scott Fawell, George Ryan’s chief of staff when the lame-duck governor had been secretary of state, as the commercial-driver’s-license scandal probe moved closer to Ryan. Capitol Fax termed Fawell’s indictment “a political atomic bomb,” and Chicago Sun-Times columnist Steve Neal called Operation Safe Road, as prosecutors labeled their case, “the worst scandal in Illinois history because there are human casualties,” including a half dozen children who had been killed by a truck driver licensed in exchange for a bribe. In the Senate, Barack addressed the importance of helping ex-offenders obtain jobs and voted against the trio of antiabortion bills, noting that they were “really designed simply to burden the original decision of the woman and the physician.” The Senate passed two of the three bills but they died in committee in the House, while Barack’s postpartum depression bill passed unanimously in both chambers and headed to Governor Ryan’s desk. “This condition is very real,” Barack stated in a press release. On April 15, a commission Ryan had appointed to study capital punishment in Illinois issued a lengthy report outlining dozens of desirable policy changes. In particular, “we recommend videotaping all questioning of a capital suspect conducted in a police facility, and repeating on tape, in the presence of the prospective defendant, any of his statements alleged to have been made elsewhere.”

  In mid-April, Barack and Michelle wrote their largest check ever to the Internal Revenue Service because Barack’s $98,000 in deduction-free income from Miner Barnhill—$80,000 of which came from Robert Blackwell Jr.’s EKI—meant they owed an additional $44,000. Thanks to the South Shore Cultural Center fund-raiser six months earlier, Barack’s state campaign committee was now flush enough to audaciously explore whether Barack could become a serious contender for the 2004 Democratic nomination for U.S. senator. Amy Szarek was brought back on payroll part-time, and Dan Shomon reached out to media consultant Chris Sautter as well as to Eric Adelstein, who had overseen Bobby Rush’s successful reelection victory. Meeting Adelstein for lunch, Barack “wants to know what he did wrong” in the congressional race and “really wanted to understand what were the fund-raising benchmarks” to be seen as a serious candidate in a statewide senatorial primary, Adelstein recalled. “You need a million dollars by the fall of ’03,” Adelstein told him. With painful memories from 1999 in mind, Barack decided they needed to have a top-notch pollster gauge his prospects as a statewide candidate. “We want to do a benchmark to see if the Senate race is do-able,” Shomon told Sautter. “Who should I talk to?” Well-known pollster Geoff Garin declined, so Sautter called Paul Harstad, a Colorado-based pollster who had helped U.S. senator Tom Harkin and Governor Tom Vilsack win tough races in Iowa. Harstad had never heard of Barack, so he called John Kupper, David Axelrod’s partner, and Kupper said, “You should work for him.” He told Harstad that Barack was a promising candidate, and Shomon arranged a conference call with Harstad, Sautter, and Barack. Chris remembered “very distinctly Barack saying ‘I don’t have to do this. If the numbers aren’t good, I can go off and do something else,’” and they agreed to survey both Democratic primary and Illinois general election voters.

  Two issues needed to be addressed. If Carol Moseley Braun, who had returned to Chicago months earlier after serving as U.S. ambassador to New Zealand, attempted to reclaim her seat, how would that influence the race? Second, even though Rod Blagojevich had fared surprisingly well outside Chicagoland with an unusual ethnic surname, Shomon “wanted to determine how much of a problem” “Barack Obama” would be as a ballot name. Sautter, Harstad, and Barack all agreed that both samples would be divided, with half of respondents being asked about a potential candidate named “Barack Obama” and the other half presented with one named “Barry Obama.”

  As Shomon and Harstad worked by phone on a lengthy, comprehensive poll, Barack, in Springfield three days a week, spoke privately with Emil Jones Jr., whose support would be most essential to making him a top-tier contender. Jones’s closest staff members knew that Emil “enjoyed conversing with” Barack “and hearing his thoughts on stuff,” and with the new legislature map all but certain to elevate Jones to the Senate presidency, Jones in eight months’ time would possess the power that Pate Philip had single-handedly exercis
ed throughout Barack’s years in Springfield. Jones remembered “a very interesting conversation” that began with Barack stressing how much power Jones would soon have. “In my mind I’m thinking, ‘Where’s this bullshit coming from? What are you trying to fatten me up for?’” So “I asked Barack, ‘What kind of power do you think I’ll have?’ He says, ‘You’ll have the power to make a United States senator.’ I said, ‘Damn, I hadn’t thought of that.’ He says, ‘Well, you’ve got that power.’ And we kept talking, and I said, ‘Well, if I have that kind of power, do you know of anyone I could make a United States senator?’ I was just sitting there. And he said ‘Me.’” Jones said, “I didn’t expect that,” but he told Barack, “Let me think about that,” and the two men continued talking until Jones said, “You know, Barack, that sounds good. Let’s go for it!” Jones knew that state comptroller Dan Hynes would be backed by his rival, House Speaker Madigan, should Hynes run, and Jones also realized that Carol Moseley Braun could be a candidate. “Barack says, if she runs, he will not run,” Jones remembered, but neither man thought she would. “I said, ‘I think this is doable.’ He said to me, ‘One thing I need from you, early on, is to be out front in the campaign early on.’ I told him, ‘I have no problem with that.’”

  “As I look back at that meeting, it indicated to me that he learned a lot from his congressional race loss,” Jones explained. Barack “figured if he had me, his chances would go up 1,000 percent,” because “I knew all the players who would be involved.” Jones recognized what a difference that would make from two years earlier: “in his loss in the congressional race, he was out there on his own. He had no one with any political influence supporting his candidacy.” Barack was appropriately grateful to Jones, and on April 23, Friends of Barack Obama contributed $5,000 to Jones’s Illinois Senate Democratic Fund. Following their conversation, Jones mentioned it to John Kelly, the young white lobbyist whose deep family roots in Cook County politics had encouraged Jones to take a shine to him. “I just had a fascinating conversation with Barack,” Jones recounted. Barack “came in and said, ‘How would you like to make the next U.S. senator?’ ‘That’s great. Who do you have in mind? Who should we support?’ He said, ‘Me,’” Kelly remembered. Jones also mentioned the conversation to well-known black radio host and former alderman Cliff Kelley. “‘Cliff, I’m gonna make me a U.S. senator,’” Kelley recounted. “‘Oh, you are? Who might that be?’ ‘Barack Obama.’”52

  Barack joined Bill Ayers for a panel discussion at a conference in Chicago titled “Intellectuals: Who Needs Them?” but press reports signaled that Barack quickly needed to expand his outreach about a Senate run. On April 25, Chicago Sun-Times gossip columnist Michael Sneed wrote that “Carol Moseley-Braun is angling to reclaim her old job” and that she had called U.S. senator Dick Durbin and former senator Paul Simon to seek their support. Three days later Sneed reported that lawyer and former Chicago Board of Education chairman Gery Chico, a onetime chief of staff to Mayor Daley, “has been making phone calls to see if a run is viable.” Sneed added that “financial whiz Blair Hull is also eyeing the job.” Two months earlier Hull and his close friend Pat Arbor, a former chairman of the Chicago Board of Trade, had had dinner with Richard Daley at Naha, one of the city’s best restaurants. Three months earlier, Daley had encouraged Hull, and on February 27 the mayor told him, “You really should be in the Senate.” By late March, Hull had hired two campaign staffers while he and consultant Rick Ridder sought out additional advisers with Illinois experience.

  After his conversation with Emil Jones, Barack talked to a highly dubious Michelle about a Senate race and then called their friend Valerie Jarrett. “‘I want to come over. Let’s invite my closest friends. There’s something I want to bounce off of you,’” Jarrett remembered Barack telling her. “Michelle had already told me what it was,” Jarrett explained. “She said, ‘So we’re not in favor of this, right?’ ‘Absolutely not.’ ‘That’s the right answer!’” Michelle forcefully confirmed. With the congressional race debt still lingering, Michelle recalled that “the big issue around the Senate for me was, how on earth can we afford it?” Jarrett agreed that Barack would “have to raise a ton of cash, and he didn’t have it,” but Jarrett also knew that underlying all of Michelle’s objections was her distaste for Barack’s political career. “Michelle hadn’t been happy about him going off to Springfield,” and a statewide campaign would have Barack away from home even more.

  Judy Byrd, the female mainstay of Barack’s congressional run, was about to move to New York, so Jarrett invited Barack’s two friends whom she knew best, John Rogers and Marty Nesbitt, to join the three of them for brunch that weekend at her apartment. Jarrett had known Rogers for years, and Nesbitt, the chief executive of an airport-parking company that was backed by Chicago heiress Penny Pritzker, had first met Michelle and Barack through his basketball-based acquaintance with Michelle’s brother Craig. Rogers’s Ariel Capital was a major player in the Illinois investment reform initiative Barack was championing, but Barack’s friendship with Nesbitt was rooted in their own very similar family histories. “Up through probably my mid-twenties, the biggest driving motivator for me was to not be like my father,” Nesbitt explained.

  “So I cooked breakfast,” Jarrett recalled. “We were resolved we were going to talk him out of this. No one thought it was a good idea, Michelle being the most clear that it was a bad idea.” Then Barack made his pitch. “‘I want to run for U.S. Senate. Let me tell you why. I’ve talked to Emil Jones. He’s a huge political force, and he’s prepared to support me. When I ran for Congress, I didn’t have that kind of support. And if I lose, then Michelle, I’ll give up politics.’ She’s like, ‘Yes!’” Jarrett remembered. “‘If I can’t do it this time, I promise I’ll get a normal job in the private sector, so this’ll be the last time I ask you to do this—unless I win. And money’s a problem, so Valerie, I think you should help me because you’re in the business community, you and John. You two should think about helping me do this.’” Jarrett explained that Barack “did this obviously far more eloquently and for ten minutes or so,” but “our initial reaction was ‘It’s too soon. You just lost, and if you lose again, where are you?’” Barack responded, “‘If I’m not worried about losing, why are you? If I lose, I lose. But I think I’ll win. I think the timing is right. I think I have a lot to offer.’” Barack “didn’t convince me he’d win at that moment,” but “he convinced me that it was worth a try,” Jarrett recounted. “I can’t quite explain how it happened,” she added. Rogers likewise believed that winning would be “incredibly difficult,” but all three friends agreed to help raise money.

  Nesbitt’s memory was more upbeat: “He convinced us in the room that day that he could pull it off.” Most important, Barack’s offer to leave politics if he lost was so attractive to Michelle that she reluctantly agreed to countenance one last race. “I said to her that if you are willing to go with me on this ride and if it doesn’t work out, then I will step out of politics,” Barack recalled. “I think she had come to realize that I would leave politics if she asked me to.”

  On May 2, Barack’s state campaign committee paid Harstad Strategic Research $16,500—the first half of the cost of an extensive, two-sample survey. At the same time, Barack quietly ended his $8,000-a-month consulting arrangement with Robert Blackwell Jr.’s EKI, which over the preceding fourteen months had paid Barack a total of $112,000. In Springfield, he reached out for support from his closest Senate friends. One evening Terry Link walked into Barack’s office. “‘I’ve got something to ask you,’” Barack said. “‘I’m thinking of running for the U.S. Senate. Would you support me?’ And I said, ‘Yes.’ And he looked at me in a puzzled look, and he said, ‘Don’t you have to think about it for a while?’ And I said, ‘No. Now you’re ready, and it’s the right race.’” Link was the Democratic Party chairman in Lake County, “the third-largest county in the state” after Cook and primarily Republican DuPage, so Link’s backing would be outw
eighed only by Jones’s.

  Barack also asked Will County Democratic powerhouse Larry Walsh, who hailed from the state’s fourth-largest county, if they could have breakfast together. “I’m seriously thinking about running,” Barack told Walsh once they sat down. “You represent the kind of district that the state of Illinois is.” Larry worried that Barack’s congressional loss would be an obstacle, but he too offered his support. Please “keep it quiet,” Barack asked, and during a Wednesday poker night, Barack pulled aside Denny Jacobs to make the same request. Denny too agreed, thinking that Barack would do well among suburban voters because “he does have a certain sex appeal for women.”

  On the Senate floor, Barack quietly told Kim Lightford, “I’m thinking about running for the U.S. Senate.” Kim jokingly replied, “I was supposed to replace Carol Moseley Braun, not you!” to which Barack responded, “I’ll do two terms, and then I’ll hand it over to you.” Kim pledged her support, and Barack went by the offices of Metro East’s James Clayborne, Southwest Sider Lou Viverito, who had backed him in the congressional race, and the North Side’s Miguel del Valle to seek and receive their backing. Downstate Democrat Pat Welch rebuffed Barack, explaining that Barack had not supported him when he had been considering a statewide 2002 race and had instead supported Tom Dart, who had done so much for Barack’s congressional run. Barack also got a lukewarm response from lobbyist and regular donor Larry Suffredin, who had just mounted a successful primary challenge for a seat on the Cook County Board. “You cannot afford to lose two races in a row,” Suffredin warned Barack.