It was not suppose to be this way. Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton, woman of destiny, future Goddess Empress of the United States, was suppose to coast first to the Democrat nomination and then to the Presidency based on her own wonderfulness.
Mind, she might do at least the first part anyway by hook, crook, and political chicanery. But Senator Baracak Obama, the second coming of John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King, and Jesus Christ all in one, may just put an end to the Clintons as a political force of nature no matter what Bill and Hillary can do. That would be proof that God not only exists, but has a delicious sense of irony.
Think about it. Hillary Rodham Clinton has prepared for most of her life to become the first female President of the United States, ever since she fell into radical chic politics at Wellesley College. Then she went to Yale Law, met that flim flam man from Arkansas, and she was set.
Mind, the part marriage of convenience part political alliance had severe consequences. In order to achieve her goal, she had to stay married to Slick Willie, the ambitious, up and comer who was her ticket to power and fame. But she also had to put up with Bill’s trifling ways. And that took a psychic toll, no question.
Many women might forgive one slip from the vows of marriage. Men are weak and are prone to lapses in judgment and morality, after all. But this writer is not sure that any other women would have forgiven the whole host of Gennifers, Paulas, Elizabeths, Juanitas (especially her!), and, of course, Monicas who seemed to come to Bill’s bed and go with a clockwork regularity.
This writer does not know of any woman-other than Hillary Rodham Clinton-who would not have marched the errant husband down to divorce court and stripped him of every last cent of assets and broken him mind, body, and soul for his peccadilloes. But not Mrs. Clinton. Her eyes have been on the prize for thirty years.
In her imagination she has seen herself in the Oval Office, all paying deference to her, calling her “Madam President.” She would have the power she craved, not only to remake the world in an image more pleasing to her, but to carve out her place in history. She would become immortal, the first female President of the United States. As Tolkien once wrote, “All will love me and despair!”
But that beautiful dream may be turning to ashes even as she is about to grasp it. And all because of a handsome, charming, smiling man. And worse, a political naïf. Being beaten by someone was substance would be bad enough. But by Barack Obama? It is too intolerable to contemplate.
What was the secret of his magic? He seems to not so much stride into a room as float into it, six inches off the ground. Women swoon in her presence as if her were Elvis or (God help her!) Bill. Obama has not so much a political following but a cult, of people who hand upon his empty platitudes as if they were the pearls of wisdom beyond price.
She can see through him. Barack Obama is just another flim flam man, in his own way, not unlike Bill. But why can’t anyone else see what she sees? Oh, the members of the Vast, Right Wing Conspiracy, to be sure. They had pegged Bill for what he was. They even got her. And they’ll get Obama.
That was the irony. Hillary Rodham Clinton was astute enough of a politician to know what has to follow. When the Right is through with Obama, he will not be the second coming of anyone but George McGovern or Walter Mondale. Along with the total botch Pelosi and Reid are making of the Congress, the probable outcome in November cannot be in doubt.
How could they be so stupid? She could win. She could take it all. But her people, the poor, the minorities, the rich liberals, who owed everything to her, were abandoning her like a frumpy, first wife. Oh, the horror, the horror.