Over the years in covering campaign politics, I developed a foolproof test for separating the truest of political junkies from the merely politically “interested.” The test is simple: in the midst of a hotly contested presidential campaign—like this one—I mention what the next presidential race in four years’ time might look like. Political passersby say something to the effect of “Can’t we finish this race first?” True political junkies immediately get a sort of faraway look in their eyes and an excitement in their voice as they contemplate all of the possibilities that the race beyond the current one holds. Those are my people. And this one is for you.
There are any number of ways to tackle who the true rising stars in each party are and will be, the people who will populate The Gospel According to The Fix 2016 edition. But I always tend to return to the world of sports for my inspiration, since sports is all about the unending search for new talent, finding the next big thing before he or she becomes the next big thing. Given that, I thought about doing the political equivalent of an NBA Draft—going through the top twenty (or so) picks in each party that someone looking to build a political dynasty would select. But then my editor said a draft didn’t work. (Damn editors!) And right around that time, I read an extended riff by Bill Simmons about the NBA All-Star game—who should start, who shouldn’t, and why. Lightbulb! So below are my starting lineups for the 2016 political all-star game. I would actually love to see these ten people on a court together playing a game of pickup hoops. But, I digress …
There are caveats everywhere when you try to see four years into the future. The most obvious is that, well, shit happens in politics. Mark Sanford, the disgraced former governor of South Carolina, might have made this list in 2008. Former New York governor Eliot Spitzer (D-escorts) would definitely have been on it. So, things change. Another caveat: the 2012 Republican vice presidential sweepstakes, which is only in its infancy as I write these words, will surely have something to say about the starting five for the Republican side. If someone not on our list below happens to be the vice presidential pick—always a possibility—he or she would, obviously, have a spot on the 2016 starting five, unless the GOP ticket imploded between now and November. Caveats dispatched.
If we did do a political draft—in your face, editor!—Rubio would be the consensus number one pick. He’s got all the tangibles (Hispanic, swing state, Tea Party darling) and lots of the intangibles too (a gifted speaker, charismatic, seemingly regular guy appeal). Rubio is the LeBron James of this all-star game; he has all the tools to be one of the greats. But, like LeBron, Rubio has coasted through his political life a little bit too easily and has some holes in his game that he still needs to address. The biggest is his tendency to play slightly fast and loose with his personal biography. The Washington Post dinged him in 2011 by noting that his oft-recounted story that his parents had fled the rule of Fidel Castro was in fact not true; his parents left Cuba more than two years before Castro came to power in 1959. Rubio acknowledged the discrepancy but downplayed it, insisting that it was the result of being told incorrect information in the “oral history” of his family. Rubio also had some trouble during his 2010 Senate race regarding questionable charges on a state party credit card, including six plane tickets for his wife. (“My wife was the first lady of the Florida House of Representatives, and it is absolutely appropriate for her to accompany me to official events and party functions,” Rubio said at the time, explaining the charges. Florida’s statehouse has a first lady? Who knew!) Still, in spite of those slight weaknesses, Rubio is still the most complete player on the floor in 2016.
If the timing had worked out slightly better for Jindal in 2012, we could well be talking about him as the presidential nominee this time around. (Jindal was up for reelection to a second term in November 2011, making it logistically impossible for him to also run for president.) But Jindal, an Indian American who spent six years in the House before being elected as governor of the Bayou State in 2007, has all the tools to make a serious run at the top job in 2016. He’s a popular figure in Louisiana and has built a governing record centered on reform—from ethics to education. If he can put together a second term as well regarded as his first, Jindal could challenge Rubio for top dog honors on the 2016 court. Jindal detractors will, rightly, note that in his debut on the national stage—the 2009 Republican response to President Obama’s address to a joint session of Congress—he bombed. Speaking from the foyer of the Louisiana governor’s mansion, Jindal looked hokey as hell. His singsongy voice, which drew unfavorable comparisons to Kenneth the Page from NBC’s 30 Rock, didn’t help matters. The question for Jindal is whether that was a blip on the radar or a sign of bigger problems scaling up to the national stage. (Is he J. J. Redick, a dominant college force but a role player in the NBA?) Writing off Jindal—or even de-valuing his upside—based on a single performance is a major mistake. This guy has the goods—in a major way.
Haley became a national figure for all the wrong reasons in 2010. Just as she appeared to be surging in the South Carolina gubernatorial primary, a prominent Republican blogger in the state went public with an allegation that he had engaged in an extramarital affair with her. It became national news immediately, and conservatives—including the one and only Sarah Palin—rushed to her defense, casting her as the victim of a smear campaign. Haley vehemently denied the charges and went on TV with an ad featuring her husband and two children that urged South Carolinians to move past the state’s history of viciously brutal campaigns. She became a sympathetic figure and cruised to a victory in both the primary and general election, making her the first Indian American woman to be elected governor in the country. Haley, who built a reputation as a reformer during her time in the state senate and was a onetime political protégée of Mark Sanford (oops!), has struggled somewhat in her first two years in office to push her agenda through the Republican-controlled state legislature. She also chose the wrong horse—Mitt Romney—to back in the state’s first-in-the-South presidential primary. But Haley is charismatic, conservative, and from a critical state in the nominating process.
When Christie won the governorship of the Garden State in 2009—the first Republican to do so since Christine Todd Whitman in 1997—few national political observers had high hopes for him. After all, he had never before served in elected office and had been heavily advantaged in the race by the incredible high negatives of the incumbent—New Jersey governor Jon Corzine (D). And then there was the unspoken doubt about Christie: could a man who was, by his own admission, obese ever become a major national figure in the world of cable television? Christie’s answer to all those doubters? Go fuck yourself. Well, not literally. But damn close. Christie’s no-nonsense approach to politics and the political media—his confrontation with a Newark Star-Ledger columnist early in his term became the stuff of conservative legend and has been viewed by tens of thousands on YouTube—made him a breakout star nationally. Christie was the toast of the conservative community and repeatedly had to beat back rumors that he was thinking of running for president in 2012. His endorsement of Mitt Romney was one of the few endorsements that might have mattered in the Republican race. All of that ensures Christie a starting spot on our 2016 all-star team. While Christie’s natural political talent is immense, there are some lingering issues for him that came up during the 2009 race—most notably a $46,000 loan he gave to a female underling during his tenure as the U.S. attorney in New Jersey. Christie’s decision as governor to take a state-sponsored helicopter ride to his son’s baseball game also suggests that he might have grown a little too impressed with his positive press and convinced himself that he could do no wrong politically. (After initially refusing to reimburse the state for the use of the helicopter, Christie caved and decided to pay it back.) None of those problems keep Christie off the court in our 2016 game though. Yes, he has weaknesses. But his natural strengths more than make up for them. The question for Christie is whether he is Dwight Howard (massive physical gifts and an amazing player) or Kwame Brown (massive physical gifts and not an amazing player).
McDonnell’s election in the swing state of Virginia in 2009 was touted by national Republicans as the first major sign that the Obama wave that had swept the country—and the Commonwealth of Virginia—in 2008 had finally begun to recede. McDonnell, who had spent four years as the state’s attorney general before running for governor, put together a very disciplined campaign that focused almost exclusively on his plan to create jobs for Virginians. (Yard signs touting BOB’S FOR JOBS were everywhere, even in the more liberal northern Virginia suburbs in the days and weeks leading up to the 2009 vote.) His closing of a more than $4 billion state budget shortfall and an unemployment rate well below the national average have highlighted McDonnell’s first several years in office. He’s been rewarded by voters with more than six in ten approving of the job he is doing, unheard-of numbers at a time when politicians are incredibly unpopular as a general rule. Another helper for McDonnell: Virginia is regarded by strategists of both parties as the swingiest of the swing states, and putting a popular governor on the national ticket could be enough to sway a very close contest. McDonnell’s closest analog in the world of professional basketball? Probably Russell Westbrook of the Oklahoma City Thunder. Both have lots of natural gifts and both, occasionally, don’t use them as they should. Westbrook shoots too much. McDonnell follows his social conservative roots—he got in the middle of a fight over transvaginal ultrasounds in the spring—a bit too often.
At the start of the 2012 election, most analysts thought that the country simply wasn’t ready for another Bush in the White House. After all, George W. Bush had left office with dismal approval ratings, and the Bush name—once so golden in American politics—was decidedly tarnished. But as the race played itself out, it became clear that any lingering concerns about the former Florida governor’s last name were more than made up for by his status as a big thinker in a field filled with small ones. That’s why Bush is on the court in 2016 if he wants to be. He is a major figure of substance on everything from immigration to education in a party that may well be desperate for that sort of profile. He is also someone who ended his eight years in office as one of the most popular elected officials in the swing state of Florida and someone whose last name means he would never want for campaign cash or organization. The question always with Jeb is: What does he want? He plays his political cards very close to the vest and has seemed largely uninterested in wading into the nitty-gritty of politics since leaving office in 2006. Bush, almost certainly, would like to get the nomination by acclamation in 2016, but that’s just not going to happen. There are too many other ambitious people who simply won’t step aside for him. Bush is like Michael Jordan during his baseball sabbatical. When he came back to playing hoops, everyone tested Jordan—trying to figure out whether he was really the old MJ or not. That’s exactly what would happen if Bush decided to run in 2016 or 2020. Is Bush willing to prove himself all over again? Or would he rather retire to a skybox and watch the proceedings unfold from afar?
Out of our Republican team, Thune is the best basketball player of the bunch. (He played college basketball at the Biblical Institute of Los Angeles.) And, on paper, he’s a great prospect: he took out then Senate majority leader Tom Daschle in 2004, he is very well liked by social conservatives, and his home state shares a border with Iowa (and its first-in-the-nation caucuses). Thune is also personable, charismatic, and handsome; he looks like what you might find if you typed “presidential candidate” into an online dictionary. Thune’s problem is that campaigns aren’t run on paper, and there are lingering questions about how much heart he has for a bruising race where the outcome is far from guaranteed. Thune backed away from the 2012 contest with a whimper, despite the fact that there was a relatively clear path for him into the top tier of the field. He is clearly a candidate with significant gifts. But he is also someone who has proven reluctant to gamble with those gifts. Thune is now a member of the Senate Republican leadership team and may well decide he’d rather climb the ladder toward minority/majority leader than risk it all on a presidential bid. Thune has been great out of the limelight. He’s got all the tools—à la Carmelo Anthony—but ’Melo seems to have shrunk a bit since moving from the Denver Nuggets to the New York Knicks. Can Thune perform when the national spotlight is shining on him? It’s an open question. But he still gets a spot on our team—based on his potential alone.
Cuomo’s last name alone—he is the son of former Empire State governor Mario Cuomo, the unrequited love of many Democratic presidential observers—puts him on the floor for 2016. His résumé is what makes him the unquestioned floor leader. Cuomo spent most of the 1990s working in the Clinton administration, first as the assistant secretary of housing and urban development and then—in Clinton’s second term—as the housing and urban development secretary. His political rise hit a bit of a bump in 2002 when he entered the Democratic primary for governor leading in the polls but wound up dropping out of the race just before the September primary when it became clear he had no chance of winning. Cuomo regrouped, however, and ran successfully for state attorney general in 2006 and then cruised to the state’s top job in 2010. Cuomo drew credit from both parties for pushing through a 2011 budget that didn’t raise taxes. He burst into the national spotlight when he helped shepherd the state’s same-sex-marriage law to passage, a major boost for his liberal bona fides (and bank account) if and when he decides to pull the trigger on a presidential bid. David B. Mixner, a longtime gay rights advocate and major player in Democratic politics, told the New York Times that Cuomo “made himself a national player, almost with one piece of legislation, and that’s not going to change.” The question for Cuomo is whether he’s learned the lessons of his failed 2002 bid, when he came off as an entitled know-it-all; his victories since that race suggest he has, and if that’s true, Cuomo’s the odds-on favorite to be the party’s presidential nominee in 2016. Cuomo’s obvious basketball comparison is Kobe Bryant. Both men had dads who played the game. Both have experienced failure and worked to make sure it never happens again. And both are among the most Machiavellian characters in their respective worlds.
Familiarity can breed contempt or, at least, disinterest. And that’s definitely the case for the national media when it comes to O’Malley, whose proximity to the nation’s capital—and the thousands of political reporters who call it home—means he is probably undercovered as a potential national candidate. O’Malley has a terrific story to tell as the mayor of a major American city and a two-term governor in a strongly Democratic state. (During his time as mayor of Baltimore, he was named by Time magazine as one of the five best big-city mayors in the country.) He also has some intangibles—he sings and plays guitar in an Irish band, he’s good-looking—that will help at the margins as voters look for the next big thing in Democratic politics. O’Malley is also part politician, part political operative; he started in politics as an advance guy for Colorado senator Gary Hart’s presidential bid and now runs the Democratic Governors Association, an organization solely tasked with adding to the number of Democrats in statewide office around the country. O’Malley is sort of like a Chris Bosh–type player in the race; he’s overshadowed by the Cuomos and, yes, Clintons but is a proven commodity who can even surprise you if you don’t keep close track of him. He’s sneaky good.
If Bob McDonnell isn’t the most popular politician in the Commonwealth of Virginia, it’s only because of Warner. Warner is a self-made millionaire (and more), thanks to being an early adopter and investor in a little thing called cellular telephones. (Warner was involved back when cell phones looked like that massive thing Gordon Gekko toted around in Wall Street.) After running unsuccessfully for Senate in 1996—a race no one thought he had a chance in and where he did surprisingly well—Warner bided his time and then ran for governor in 2001. His victory was the first by a Democrat since Doug Wilder won the office in 1989 and featured not only a brand-new coalition for the party that was based in the vote-rich northern Virginia suburbs but also included traditionally conservative areas in the southwestern part of the state that were drawn to Warner’s jobs and technology messaging. In office, Warner pulled off the impossible—forging agreement with a Republican legislature on a $1.3 billion tax increase plan in order to balance the commonwealth’s budget. Warner’s popularity only grew after he was term limited out of office in 2005. He was widely expected to run for president in 2008 but unexpectedly bowed out of the race in late 2006 for—still—unexplained reasons. Instead of running for president, Warner sought the state’s open U.S. Senate seat in 2008 and won with 65 percent—a remarkable showing in a state so closely divided along partisan lines. Warner’s considerable personal wealth and electoral success in a swing state recommend him as a candidate. His centrist politics, however, could complicate his future on the national stage, since voters who are to Warner’s ideological left will almost certainly control the nomination fight. Warner has a bit of an odd political game; he’s sort of like Shawn Marion of the Dallas Mavericks. His style isn’t polished to a gleam and his politics are well short of what liberals want. And yet he just keeps finding ways to win—overwhelmingly—in a swing state.
Yes, we realize the (somewhat) ridiculous notion of putting someone on our 2016 all-star starting five who hasn’t even been elected—and may not be elected—yet. But Warren is an exception worth making. The former Harvard Law professor came to national prominence as a co-chair of the congressional committee overseeing the disbursement of money from the Troubled Asset Relief Program (TARP). She was also instrumental in the creation of the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau—although her liberal views made her impossible to be confirmed (and President Obama didn’t even try) as the head of the newly formed agency. Over that time, Warren became a cult hero among the liberal left, a status only bolstered by her decision to challenge Senator Scott Brown (R) in November for the seat once held by the late Ted Kennedy. Warren’s fund-raising prowess in the race is eye-popping—she collected more than $9 million in her first four months as a candidate in 2011—and if she can beat Brown she will immediately become a national star on the Democratic side. To those who say she is too inexperienced to possibly be considered for a presidential bid, we have two words for you: Barack Obama. When 2016 rolls around, Warren, if elected, will have spent three years in the Senate—exactly the amount of time Obama was in the world’s greatest deliberative body before pursuing the presidency. It could well be déjà vu all over again. Warren’s closest comparison in basketball is Anthony Davis, the eighteen-year-old wunderkind who led Kentucky to an NCAA Championship in 2012. Everyone expects him to be a terrific pro, but he’s not in the league just yet. When he gets there, he’ll start to dominate.
Every team needs an enforcer—someone who not only relishes the back and forth of the game but also excels at it. That’s Emanuel. After spending years in the political arm of the Clinton White House, Emanuel sought elected office on his own in 2002, running for and winning the open Fifth District seat of Illinois. (The seat was vacated by then representative Rod Blagojevich, who went on to become governor of the state and then a convicted felon. But that’s another book.) Six years later, after overseeing the Democratic takeover of the House in 2006, Emanuel was plucked from office by an offer to become President Obama’s first White House chief of staff. He left that post in 2010 to pursue his self-described dream job of mayor of Chicago. Emanuel’s opponents insisted he wasn’t eligible to run because he hadn’t lived in the state for the past two years. Emanuel rode over them—and their objections—to win the mayor’s office easily. While he dismisses talk of a Senate or gubernatorial bid in the future, people as ambitious as Emanuel don’t just turn off the switch. They can’t. And so Rahm will almost certainly continue to make moves—both in Illinois and, eventually, on a national stage. Might he be our first Jewish president? Emanuel reminds me most of John Stockton, the Hall of Fame point guard for the Utah Jazz. Stockton was a great player and facilitator—he always got his teammates involved—but also had a reputation for walking right up to the line of being a dirty player.
I believe Clinton when she says that when she leaves the secretary of state’s office at the end of this year that she will be totally and completely done with politics. After all, she’s spent more than three decades in the public eye and has withstood more scrutiny and criticism than anyone else we can think of. Clinton is well within her rights to declare that she is simply done with the world of politics. And yet … she will be only sixty-eight years old (Ronald Reagan was sixty-nine when he was first elected) in November 2016 and, by all accounts, has plenty of vim and vigor left in her. What remains unknown is how hindsight has affected Clinton’s thinking about her 2008 bid. Does she view it as her one shot to run for president that, for a variety of reasons, failed? Or does she view it as a job left undone? If it’s the latter then she could well have one more run in her. Obviously if Clinton did get into the 2016 race, she would effectively function as the prime mover—the person around which all of the other candidates would rotate. Again, this is not the most likely—or even close to a likely—scenario. But it’s also impossible to know whether Hillary Clinton is truly done with politics just yet. If she feels like 2008 left her with some unfinished business, 2016 might be her chance to write the final chapter of her political life—with a happier ending. Who is Clinton in our political hoops game? Magic Johnson? Larry Bird? One of the two. She’s part of political royalty. She’s the sort of politician all other politicians defer to when they are in a group. She’s got “it”—whatever “it” is.