In Clinton, Inc., Daniel Halper exposes how Bill and Hillary Clinton went about systematically rebuilding their brand in pursuit of a Hillary Clinton presidency. “Clinton, Inc.” is a great metaphor, but it is perhaps the subtitle of the book that is more resonant today: The Audacious Rebranding of a Political Machine.
I had occasion to study political machines in my new book, A Republic No More: Big Government and the Rise of American Political Corruption. Largely, political machines have ceased to exist. Even thirty years ago, there were still a handful of operations in a few big cities – – Chicago and Pittsburgh, for instance — but those are gone now.
But, I would argue, the Clinton operation counts as a machine — not just as a metaphor or allegory, but as a bona fide, contemporary update of the old 19th-century operation.
What is a political machine, boiled down to its essence? In a nutshell, it is a tightly-run, extra-governmental organization that conducts business on behalf of governmental agents. At first glance, political parties may be thought of as machines, but parties are basically open to any and all participants who more or less agree with the platform. Machines are closed off, premised on loyalty, and usually operated on behalf of a close-knit group of leaders, who control entry to and exit from the operation.
That the Clintons are an actual machine was given further evidence with the news that the Clinton Foundation has been accepting contributions from foreign governments, and that Hillary Clinton used a private email address when conducting her business as secretary of state. They clearly are operating a vast shadow organization — a machine — designed to clear a path for her to the Democratic nomination, and eventually the presidency.
From a purely political perspective, it is ingenious. We have not had a secretary of state become president since James Buchanan, and his tenure in that job had ended nearly a decade before he became president. John Quincy Adams, who served from 1825-1829, was the last president who, in his immediately preceding job, was secretary of state.
Why the long drought? After all, the job at State is an excellent training and proving ground for the presidency. The president has widest discretion in foreign affairs, so it stands to reason we’d sample heavily from our foreign service when selecting the next commander in chief. It seems like we the people are missing out on a great talent pool.
One reason is that the state job is inherently non-partisan, while the quest for the presidency has become a very partisan, and very lengthy pursuit. It now takes years to plan a path to the White House — not just in actual campaigning but in laying the groundwork with party elites and top-tier donors — something which a secretary of state simply cannot afford to do. In many respects, the State Department chief is the ultimate non-partisan agent in the government. The secretary’s purpose is to represent the interests of the whole country in negotiations with foreign governments. That is not a job that lends itself to a partisanship.
It appears that Clinton’s way around this precedent was to do what we lately learned: use the Clinton Foundation to collect money, including from foreign governments, have her husband participate in the more narrowly partisan activities, and use a private email address to correspond free from the prying eyes of the National Archives.
That, to me, was the big question coming out of the email story this week. A lot of people were wondering what public business she was conducting on a private account. What I wanted to know was: what private business did she not want to conduct on a public account? If given three guesses, I’d say: politics, politics, politics.
There’s a historical parallel here with the Cameron Machine of Pennsylvania, which formed in the 1870s and lasted, in one form or another, until the 1920s. Simon Cameron was Abraham Lincoln’s Secretary of War, but was basically fired in 1862 for facilitating graft. Yet he was a political maestro who had grown wealthy by trading on his governmental stature, and he was able to buy his way back into politics. In 1867, he defeated popular wartime governor Andrew Curtin for a Senate seat. This was back when senators were chosen by state legislatures, so Cameron won by persuading or buying off members of the Pennsylvania house and senate. He eventually became a powerhouse during the Ulysses Grant Administration — with control over Pennsylvania patronage, veto authority over executive officers, and a huge, loyal following (the Cincinnati Times estimated at one point that hundreds of people in Washington owed their position to him). He even prevailed upon Grant to name his son, J. Donald, secretary of war, even though Don had no experience to speak of.
Much of this is reminiscent of the Clintons — the initial fall from grace, the careful management of political contacts, the accumulation of wealth via political channels, the carefully run political shop, and especially the nepotism. And also, the cheesy scandals that embarrassed Simon Cameron but never brought him down. Cameron was caught up in a scandal trying to defraud the Winnebago tribe, and later on the House censured him for bilking the War Department — but it barely ever slowed him down. Sound familiar?
So, ultimately the question is: how is a machine liked this stopped? Unfortunately, the only thing that brought down Cameron, Inc. was the Great Depression. It survived the outlawing of the spoils system, the direct election of senators, and even the entirety of the progressive movement against the machines. It even survived the Camerons themselves. That is how powerful it was.
At a minimum, the GOP needs to nominate somebody whose hands are clean — impeccably, impossibly, squeaky clean — to press the case for honest and open governance. Only a candidate with a clear conscience, and a vacant closet can train a critical eye on this kind of bad behavior. And even then it may not be enough. For better or worse, money moves American politics — and the Clintons have shown in the 14 years since they’ve left office that they are very, very good at moving money.
Jay Cost is a staff writer at the Weekly Standard. His new book, A Republic No More: Big Government and the Rise of American Political Corruption, is now available.
