ANDREW CUOMO HAS BEEN RUNNING for office for years. The official announcement of his candidacy for governor of New York finally came on January 29, 2001, just nine days after his tenure as secretary of housing and urban development ended with the close of the Clinton administration. Cuomo’s friends threw a homecoming bash to honor the former cabinet member and his wife, Kerry Kennedy Cuomo. “People have asked what am I going to do now I’m back in New York,” the candidate told the crowd. “First, I’m going to get a good bagel. I’m going to get a good piece of pizza. I’m going to get a good egg roll, and I’m going to get some good ribs. And then, my friends and my family, I want you to know that I intend to run for governor of the State of New York.” But years before, his ambition was already plain. “I’d like to run for office myself someday,” Cuomo mused in a 1986 Washington Post profile. Then 28, he had already masterminded his father Mario Cuomo’s unlikely capture of the same office in 1982. Now at last he’s off. As simple politics, his campaign has several fascinating elements: a son intent on avenging his father’s defeat; the fortunes of not one but two political dynasties; the omnipresent Clinton factor. On substance, though, little will be more important than Cuomo’s tenure at HUD and what it meant for New Yorkers. Cuomo wants it that way. As HUD secretary, he paid lavish attention to New York. He showered his home state—particularly the electorally important upstate region—with federal dollars, and essentially used HUD as his gubernatorial campaign headquarters. In his final 13 months as HUD secretary, Cuomo made 46 official trips. More than half of those—25—were to New York. California, his second favorite destination, saw Cuomo 4 times in the same period. “I did more for upstate New York from Washington than the [Pataki] administration has done from Albany,” Cuomo said in February. And locals, at least in the short term, are grateful. But New York housing officials are worried that Cuomo’s self-promotion could have negative, real-dollar consequences for the upstate economy. Some of the money for HUD’s $100 million Erie Canal Corridor Initiative came as so-called Section 108 loans. Through the program, small cities and towns put up future HUD allocations as collateral for present loans. If the loans go bad, the future money is lost. “HUD has, in effect, mortgaged our future money,” says Joseph Lynch, New York’s top housing official, whose career spans four decades. “There are probably more [Section] 108 loan guarantees in New York than in the entire country.” Another high-ranking New York housing administrator agrees. “We’ve got a black cloud over us for the next 18 years, all so [Cuomo] could issue press releases.” Worse news for Cuomo: A report this spring from HUD’s New York-based inspector general’s office rips the entire Erie Canal Corridor project and claims, “While the Initiative has produced limited successes by means of public improvement projects, most activities have been slow moving; thus, compromising the Initiative’s ultimate success.” Those concerns, raised by both Cuomo critics and government watchdog types, burden Cuomo’s attempt to fashion himself a New Democrat. He finds himself in the difficult position of wanting to boast about his attention to New York, but also to hide the fact that such self-interested favoritism is surely unethical. Cuomo regularly thumps incumbent governor George Pataki as fiscally irresponsible. Democrats, Cuomo says, are business-friendly. Democrats will privatize. Democrats will cut taxes. Democrats will reduce the size of government. It’s Andrew Cuomo, fiscal conservative, steward of The People’s money. Cuomo’s rival for the Democratic nomination, New York State comptroller Carl McCall, is literally the steward of New York public money. McCall, who is 65 and has waited patiently for a crack at the top job, won the early support of many Democratic leaders. If nominated, he would be the first black gubernatorial nominee in state history. But Andrew Cuomo is not deferential. “His whole persona,” says one Republican observer, “is—I will overwhelm you.” He is now in the process of elbowing McCall out of his way. Cuomo nearly doubled McCall’s fund-raising totals over the first six months of 2001. Now, having hired the same Chicago-based firm that Hillary Clinton used so successfully to raise national money for her Senate campaign in New York, Cuomo is positioning himself to end the primary battle before it begins in earnest. Once he does that, he can focus on Pataki, the man who denied his father a fourth term in 1994. Fourteen months before the 2002 Democratic primary, 16 months before the election, Andrew Cuomo’s campaign has rented a Winnebago to hit the road. In Olean, New York, a sleepy town in the southwestern part of the state, a crowd of about 100 anxiously awaits his arrival at the Knights of Columbus hall. Two advance men dart about nervously, one of them handing out blue and white “Andrew Cuomo” buttons. A third advance man will arrive with the Cuomo family and their two nannies. The press contact and at least two other full-time employees stay behind in the campaign’s Park Avenue office. Before the family makes its entrance, local activist Charlotte McLaughlin stops at the press table and proudly thrusts a picture under our noses. The framed, black-and-white photograph shows a young Charlotte among a group of young, awestruck “Kennedy Girls,” staring up at a regal Robert F. Kennedy delivering a speech. “I’m here because of this man, Robert F. Kennedy,” she explains. “When he died, I cried for days.” The room buzzes with Democratic legend. “I was with Mario before anyone gave him a chance,” says one. “I stood with Bobby when he gave a talk two blocks from here,” says another. Moments later, three little girls in matching denim dresses burst through the doors. The twins, who are 6, and their 3-year-old sister are RFK’s grandchildren. They dance and frolic their way to the front of the room, conjuring up the black-and-white images of other Kennedy children, a generation earlier. Andrew and his wife glad-hand their way around the hall. Once people are seated, speakers file across the gray and white linoleum floor to the microphone to thank them for coming and to share stories of the Kennedys, the Cuomos, and campaigns past. Then, Kerry Kennedy Cuomo takes the podium. “Thank you,” she begins. “It’s really wonderful to be here in Cattaraugus County. You know, my father was Bobby Kennedy and my earliest memories of being with him are of campaigning with him upstate, and also around New York state, for Senate.” Her speech, a bit choppy, is received with considerable enthusiasm. Andrew, introduced next, says of his wife: “You think she’s good because it’s the Kennedy gene, I think she’s good because she’s heard a lot of Cuomos speak.” The family references, understandably, are numerous. They work in Olean on Saturday night, but the response is more restrained in two campaign stops further upstate. At the Orleans County Democratic Picnic in Albion on Sunday, the Democratic county chairman begins by thanking Republicans. “We all know we couldn’t win anything without Republican help,” says Jeanne Crane. She then acknowledges several Republican elected officials in attendance. A second party official ticks off a list of Republicans the party has decided to endorse in local races. Curious about the cross-party mingling—this is, after all, a fund-raiser for Democrats—I approach someone who may be able to explain it. Amy Neal is wearing cut-off jeans and a T-shirt that reads: “I’m a Democrat, You’re a Republican, Let’s Be Friends. I’ll Bug Your Elephant, You Kiss My Ass.” Ms. Neal, the treasurer of the local party, tells me that Republicans outnumber Democrats in the county by more than two to one. “Without Republicans,” she says, “there wouldn’t be any Democrats. I mean, they support us, too.” Cuomo has shed
his navy suit of last night in favor of more casual attire. He is dressed in a long-sleeved, blue-and-white checked Ralph Lauren shirt, Bill Blass khakis, and black loafers. (Kenneth Cole, perhaps. Cuomo’s sister Maria is married to the fashion designer, who is an enthusiastic supporter.) He gives roughly the same speech he gave in Olean. But here, in Republican country, he throws in a section on taxes. “What happened to lower taxes? That used to be the mantra of the Republicans. It’s going to take a Democrat to do it,” he insists. “And it’s going to be done.” The Village of Albion, host of the picnic, sits astride the Erie Canal, and Cuomo’s HUD was very generous to this town of 7,300. Naturally, the canal gets a prominent mention in his speech. As he reaches a crescendo about restoring New York’s greatness, Cuomo bellows, “We built that Erie Canal that built the county and built this nation!” Cuomo’s speech interrupts a fund-raising auction featuring an authentic, fast-talkin’ auctioneer. (Two framed Elvis pictures go for $6; a Mantis rototiller—as seen on TV—for $147.50.) As the auction resumes following the talk, I approach two local Republican officeholders. I ask Albion mayor Ed Salvatore about his presence at the Democratic auction and he expands a bit on what Amy Neal has told me. Is he supporting Cuomo? No, Pataki. “But,” he adds, “we know Andrew very well from HUD, and we’re very appreciative.” For those familiar with Andrew Cuomo’s tenure at HUD, his first direct attack on George Pataki may have seemed strange: He criticized the governor for using public funds to advance his political career. Pataki, Cuomo argued this spring, used public funds to boost his political standing. He flew around New York at state expense to boost his image in preparation for his reelection bid. What’s more, Cuomo charged, Pataki’s appearance in public service TV ads was improper, unethical. Cuomo threatened to sue. “You just have to turn on your TV set, you’ll see George Pataki,” Cuomo told a gathering of state Democrats in May. “Now, it may be the only place you’ll see George Pataki is doing state advertisements. But you will see him there, and you pay to see him there. It’s almost like pay-per-view. You pay your taxes and then you view Pataki on television.” Cuomo suggested Pataki reimburse the state of New York $20 million to settle the ad issue. Cuomo hasn’t been as specific about repayment for Pataki’s travel. “I don’t believe what Pataki is doing is legal,” Cuomo explained to the New York Post. “Where is the governor authorized to use state dollars for his campaign?” “You cannot justify ethically or legally using taxpayer dollars to finance your political travel,” Cuomo said. So with this criticism of Pataki in mind, last week I asked Cuomo to explain the congressional report that documented his frequent trips to New York. He first disputed its findings, then explained them. “That was incorrect. That was incorrect,” he said, of the congressional report. “First of all, I represented every—the airplane is different. The airplane is, look at the specifics. You say one thing, and you do another. That’s what the airplane is. You say one thing and do another. The advertising, you say one thing and do another. Vieques, you say one thing you do another. And that’s troubling. I don’t care what you believe, but believe something and then be consistent. And I can disagree with you, but at least stand in front of me and be honest. “As far as my coming to New York, first of all I worked in every state,” he explained. “Second of all I was from New York, and anyone who understands how government and politics works, knows when you’re a cabinet secretary from a certain state, the administration tends to use you in that state. That’s why you have a cabinet secretary from all different parts of the country. And when you need to communicate in that state, you use that cabinet secretary. So that’s sort of a silly, silly point. When I was HUD secretary I went into a lot of houses. Yeah, but that sorta goes with the construct.” Despite Cuomo’s obvious dissembling, the strategy was ingenious for two reasons. First, Pataki had effectively used similar arguments in his 1994 upset of then-governor Mario Cuomo. Payback. But the second reason is more important. “It’s a brilliant strategy, and one he’s done before,” says a longtime Cuomo observer. “By attacking that [misuse of public funds], you can’t use that against him. It’s his problem, but what are you going to say in response, ‘You’ve done nothing but use HUD as your public sink’? So, it’s the perfect attack.” It is indeed “one he’s done before.” In the heat of last year’s Senate race between Hillary Clinton and New York City mayor Rudy Giuliani, before Giuliani dropped out for medical reasons, Andrew Cuomo made a special trip to New York. Cuomo, ostensibly in his role as HUD secretary, marched into a late-1999 state Assembly hearing to send a message. “We cannot allow federal funds to be politicized,” he insisted, blasting the city’s homeless policies under Giuliani. But Cuomo was there for one reason: to politicize federal funds. Cuomo appeared at the hearing to justify his decision to yank from New York City the duty of distributing about 20 percent of its federal housing grants, a decision that would allow him to deliver a public spanking to Giuliani and so help Mrs. Clinton, his boss’s wife. (Two weeks earlier, Cuomo had lent his top New York-based HUD deputy, Bill de Blasio, to run the Clinton campaign.) Cuomo, as he left the hearing, took time out from his official HUD duties to hold an impromptu press conference. He predicted, “Hillary Rodham Clinton is going to be the next senator from New York.” In case anyone missed the point of Cuomo’s trip, his wife reiterated it that evening. “Just a few hours ago, my husband pulled up the gauntlet,” a proud Kerry Kennedy Cuomo boasted to a New York Democratic party fund-raiser for Hillary. Mrs. Cuomo, too, ripped Giuliani’s homeless policies, and finished with a warning. “Next time, Rudy, pick on someone your own size.” On the campaign trail, Mrs. Cuomo sounds a similar theme: Andrew versus the “hostile Republican Congress.” “I remember when he went to the nomination hearings before the Senate,” she explains in her standard stump speech. “And there were 16 senators in a row, and they sort of sit you in this pit, and they sit above you and look down like this, and they’re all Republicans basically.” She continues: “And the first one got up and said, ‘I’m going to shut down HUD ’cause there’s so much waste.’ And the next one said, ‘I’m shutting down HUD ’cause there’s so much fraud.’ The next, ‘I’m shutting down HUD because there’s so much abuse.’ And this went on and on and on, 16 in a row! And Andrew said, ‘Respectfully, sir, I think I can make a difference there, and I’m willing to try.’ And he did.” Everyone understands that campaigns regularly get, um, creative with the truth, but Mrs. Cuomo’s description of the hearings is pure fiction. Andrew Cuomo’s confirmation hearing in January 1997 was a lovefest. After nothing but warm comments about the nominee from the first few speakers, Connecticut Democrat Christopher Dodd jokingly proposed the committee recommend Cuomo’s confirmation without further delay. “Andrew, you ought to be careful,” he continued. “With all this praise here, they’re setting the bar very high for you.” California Democrat Barbara Boxer agreed. “You have everything going for you this morning, and I only hope that your tenure will be as warm and good as this confirmation hearing is.” Both parties were well represented at the hearing, with 10 speakers each, not including Cuomo himself. And though 2 Republicans alluded to previous efforts to close down HUD, nobody renewed the threat. Lauch Faircloth of North Carolina, the committee’s harshest HUD critic, closed his remarks on this note: “A number of people that I admire recommend you very highly. They are strong supporters, and you certainly have an impressive record and
an impressive group of friends, and it’s nice to see you again today and I look forward to the hearing.” Looking back at certain aspects of Cuomo’s tenure, though, could do much to resurrect the long-forgotten crusade to close down HUD. Cuomo’s trips to New York promoting the Erie Canal Corridor Initiative took him to a struggling region. Despite the strong economy of the ’90s, this swath from Buffalo to Albany has stagnated. Cuomo argued that a major infusion of government cash could kick start a recovery. Others weren’t so sure. Mark McGuire reported HUD’s initiative to revitalize the Erie Canal area in the Albany Times Union on November 21, 1996. His lede was skeptical: “Its value as a commercial thoroughfare has long since disappeared; sections have been plowed under, paved over or simply forgotten. But federal officials are willing to wager more than $100 million that the Erie Canal still has value.” Critics point to the project and the secretary’s trips promoting it as naked attempts to win Cuomo favorable publicity in his once and future state. Joseph Lynch, commissioner of the New York State Division of Housing and Community Renewal, says Cuomo used the visits to stage high-profile announcements in areas key to his gubernatorial bid. “The announcements were certainly of a political nature,” said Lynch. “They were highly controlled to favor the officials in his party.” Lynch’s office was nearly always surprised by Cuomo’s visits. “Usually, when he’d come in for the announcements of funding grants, we were not contacted in any way prior [to the public announcement],” he said. But such failure to notify the state is a minor slight in the context of Cuomo’s years-long battle with New York for control of the funds themselves. Cuomo had fought to prevent the state from controlling its Community Development Block Grants, as 48 states did then. All the while, HUD’s website declared that local communities are better able to spend block grants than are federal bureaucrats. HUD’s website also falsely claims: “New York and Hawaii chose not to administer the State CDBG program.” While this was the case when Mario Cuomo was governor, New York under Governor Pataki made repeated attempts to win control of the money. Finally, in late 1999, congressional Republicans added a provision to the HUD budget giving control to New York. But by that time, some five years after Cuomo first joined HUD as an assistant secretary and two years after he took over as secretary, he was already making regular trips to New York to tout the HUD money. Rather than deny that upstate New York received disproportionate attention from HUD, Cuomo is campaigning on it. “Andrew Cuomo had jobs for New Yorkers on his mind when he developed programs and leveraged billions of dollars in investment for the New York economy, while at HUD,” proclaims the Cuomo News, distributed at campaign stops. His website reads, “As HUD Assistant Secretary, and then as Secretary, Cuomo began and implemented the Canal Corridor Initiative that resulted in billions of dollars in public and private investment and created 27,000 jobs.” An internal HUD audit released on March 30, 2001, however, paints a dismal picture of the Erie Canal project. It reports that HUD has been slow in distributing funds, that HUD used “unusual financing methods,” and that the project has fallen short of its stated objectives. The inspectors conclude with a stunning recommendation: Without significant improvements in the execution and monitoring of the project, HUD should rescind large portions of the remaining funding. But some of the money has been spent. As the New York Daily News’s Ross Buettner reported in June, the town of Holley spent $1 million on, among other things, the “Andrew Cuomo Canalway Trail.” And in Albion, the site of the Orleans County Democratic picnic, one local suggested I check out a project he called “the debacle.” The old bank building is about 50 steps from the Erie Canal. It sits abandoned, falling apart. A building permit, dated 1999, is posted on the front door. The inside is empty, except for some garbage and a sawhorse. The back windows are boarded up, and “No Trespassing” signs are posted on the walls. This is after the village spent $585,000 in HUD money to turn it into a gathering place for tourists traveling the canal, with a museum, public showers, and a youth hostel. This didn’t happen. On my second trip to the building, I run into Mayor Salvatore, who, I’ve been told, is steamed about the condition of the bank and the “wasted money.” I ask him what happened. The village applied for the HUD funding, he says, and enlisted the county Chamber of Commerce to administer the grant. Though it’s not apparent from the outside, he tells me, the walls have been fortified and the roof reinforced. Salvatore, a sincere, salt-of-the-earth type, goes to great lengths to avoid assigning blame. And he points to a number of reasons for the current state of the building, including New York’s prevailing wage law, which dramatically inflated labor costs. Still, he contends, had the village managed the job, “we think the building could be completed right now. Completely completed.” Salvatore says the village provided updates to HUD when asked. “We gave them the progress reports on it and apparently they were happy with it.” Around the corner, the village has used $65,000 in HUD money to carve out a little park along the waterway. Again, the town had high hopes—plans to build a recreation area for both tourists and locals. On this warm summer day, while the new park sits empty, a big band plays up the street on the grounds of the courthouse. This is exactly the kind of event that was planned for the canalside park. Explains a resident, “They won’t even use the gazebo because it’s so wimpy.” It can’t help that the park backs up to two dilapidated homes, each with an abandoned car parked before it. A cement strip between the houses features a row of discarded major appliances. In total, the Village of Albion received nearly $2 million in HUD grants and loans, almost $300 per resident. Andrew Cuomo, of course, can’t be faulted for every ineffective HUD grant. But such fiascoes at least raise questions about his campaign boasts. Cuomo made the case for himself shortly before he left office, in the November/December 2000 issue of the New Democrat magazine. The article, “From Worst to First,” co-written with HUD’s former chief of staff John Cowan, purports to describe the “radical reinvention” of HUD since Cuomo took over in 1997. “Almost four years later, we have restored HUD’s credibility,” the authors claim. “If you can turn around HUD, you can turn around any troubled government agency.” Stan Czerwinski, a HUD expert at the federal government’s nonpartisan General Accounting Office, doesn’t go that far, but he gives Cuomo some credit. “I have not seen a [HUD] secretary pay attention to the management area as Cuomo did,” Czerwinski says. “His major accomplishment was the reorganization. It’s not just reorganization for reorganization’s sake, either. It’s reorganization to improve accountability.” Cuomo also claims that on his watch, HUD was taken off the “high risk” list that GAO keeps to monitor poorly performing federal agencies. But critics call the claim misleading, since GAO changed its parameters for assessing risks. I ask Czerwinski who is right. “It’s probably somewhere in between,” he responds, explaining that, instead of assessing the agency overall, GAO decided to look at it program by program. “Three-quarters of the budget is probably still high-risk.” And what of Cuomo’s claims that he has largely eliminated “waste, fraud and abuse” at HUD? Czerwinski lets out a hearty laugh. “I wish I could say that he had done that, although I’d be out of a job,” he says, with another chuckle. “We seem to have plenty to look at still.” On his way out, Cuomo ordered HUD to print several brochures detailing his effort to cut waste, among other things. Republicans in Congress were furious at the blatant self-promotion. One 150-page booklet, “A Visi
on for Change,” purports to tell “the story of HUD’s transformation.” “HUD is a model for others to follow and take comfort in,” Cuomo writes in the introduction. “Government can work. And government is our collective vehicle for positive change. Government is still our best hope. If government can work, we can make this a better world. And isn’t that what it’s all about anyway?” Government certainly worked for Cuomo in this instance. The brochure, with its own CD-ROM, cost nearly $700,000. Some of its language, and many of its 21 photos of the secretary, also appear on the campaign website. Click on the site’s “Photo Gallery” and you’ll come to the heading “Exposing Injustice Is The First Step.” This echoes a second brochure. Entitled “Exposing Injustice,” it features a burning cross on the cover, and on the inside cover. The pages are filled with images of the KKK and other hate groups. “Hatred,” goes the text. “It flaunts many rationales and stalks many targets. When a house of worship—whether it is a church, a synagogue, or another sacred place—becomes a target of hate, it batters the very center of a community’s identity. And such hatred, unfortunately, persists, even into the 21st Century.” The brochure cost taxpayers nearly $200,000. This last-minute flurry of literature highlights the remarkable scope of HUD’s work under Cuomo: gun control, AIDS, crime, the environment, education, “fighting cyberhate,” foreign policy, and health care. Is there anything HUD doesn’t do? Such expenditures and such arguments—government is our best hope—will do little to enhance the New Democrat image Cuomo is cultivating for his campaign. “I believe that’s the essence of New Democrats,” he says of restoring faith in government. “Make it work, make it smaller, market-based principles, privatize what you can.” Both Cuomo and his wife repeatedly tout his cost-saving measures at HUD, yet they seem to want it both ways. As Kerry Kennedy Cuomo stresses, her husband “went back to that hostile Republican Congress and he got record funding every year, for four years.” Cuomo entered the Democratic primary as something of an underdog, an image his aides were happy to cultivate. State comptroller Carl McCall was widely thought to be the Democratic nominee-in-waiting. An attractive, well-regarded public servant, McCall had already done well statewide and, thus, had secured much early support from the state’s Democratic apparatus. But Cuomo has his own strengths. His initial contributor list released last week reads in places like a Who’s Who of Clinton top administration officials and scandal attorneys: Don Baer, Carol Browner, Lisa Caputo, Greg Craig, Lanny Davis, Dan Glickman, Mickey Kantor, David Kendall, Joel Klein, Abbe Lowell, Federico Peña, John Podesta, Bruce Reed, Richard Riley, Gene Sperling. The underdog no longer, Cuomo has outpolled McCall regularly throughout the spring and summer. The latest survey shows him up 13 points. Name identification, needless to say, is no problem. And with eight years’ practice at misusing a cabinet agency to further his personal political ambitions, Cuomo at least has mastered the permanent campaign. Stephen F. Hayes is a staff writer for The Weekly Standard.
