When the Democratic nominee announced his massive $52 million June fundraising haul last week, we here at Stumper headquarters were struck by one number in particular: $68. That according to the campaign, was the month's average contribution's size. The amazing thing, we wrote, was that it was about $30 lower than the average contribution in May, April or March. Which implied one thing: "that the senator attracted a massive number of new $5, $10, $20 donors once the primaries ended--presumably from the ranks of devoted Dems who had (until then) supported Hillary Clinton." In other words, the much-hyped rumors of Clintonites refusing to accept Obama as their nominee were greatly exaggerated--or simply, you know, inconsequential.

Now that Chicago has filed its finance reports with the FEC, though, we decided that instead of just (ahem) guessing, we should actually quantify how much Clinton's former supporters gave. Given that the headlines say stuff like "Clinton Supporters Lend Obama a Big Fundraising Hand," we assumed that the stats would confirm our suppositions. They don't. Truth is, according to the Los Angeles Times and Washington Post, Obama received only $1.8 million in June from donors who'd given to Clinton since January 2007.*** That sum represented a paltry 3.5 percent of his monthly total and less than a tenth of what Clinton herself raised in April--hardly enough to account for the $30 million leap in Obama's fundraising from May (the last month of the primary season) to June (the first month of the general election). Moreover, about half of the $1.8 million came from 355 Clinton donors contributing more than $2,000 apiece--which kind of makes our whole hypothesis (i.e., Obama attracted a massive number of small-sum donors from Clinton's base) look dubious. Overall, only 2,200 Clinton donors--out of the hundreds of thousands who contributed to her campaign--sent their first checks to Obama last month.***

At first, this may look like a minus for Obama--you know, another opportunity for pundits to proclaim that he's yet to unify the party. But raising more than $50 million without overwhelming contributions from former Clinton donors is actually more impressive--and more encouraging for the future of Obama's money machine--than relying on them to reach that lofty mark. Here's why. For one thing, it means that many of those $5, $10 and $20 checks--the checks that lowered June's average contribution to $68--came from folks who may have sat out the Democratic primary but are now eager defeat McCain. Going forward, the sustained growth of this small-sum base is by far Obama's biggest advantage over his Republican rival, who's relying mostly on major moneymen to max out and move along. More importantly, Obama's sans Hillary June success indicates that there are still a ton of Clinton contributors--that is, proven Democratic donors--who have yet to give to the party's presumptive nominee. For Obama, this is a win-win situation. He's already shown that he can raise plenty for his purposes with minimal Clinton input. The worst that can happen is that some of her donors continue to hold out--and he continues to rake in $52 million a month. On the other hand, if old tensions thaw as November approaches and more Clintonites open their checkbooks--a likely scenario--the nominee's already astronomical totals will climb even higher.

***UPDATE, 2:13 p.m.: Obama spokesman Tommy Vietor calls to remind me that donations under $200 aren't listed on the FEC returns--insert palm slapping forehead here--so we can only really assess how well Obama did with Clintonites in the $200 to $2,300 category. (Unfortunately, I based my analysis on the L.A. Times and Washington Post reports, which were written, misleadingly, to sound as if Obama attracted only 2,200 Clinton donors overall.) This means that there are still potentially--and, in fact, probably--a sizable number of former Hillary supporters (certainly more than 2,200) who sent Obama their first small checks in June, as I wrote last week. Either way, the end result is same for the senator: he's likely to go up from here.
 

NEW YORK--"Signed, sealed and delivered"? Not quite.

Wrapping up a 25-minute speech last night before an audience of 1,000 loyal Big Apple donors at the Grand Hyatt Hotel--a speech in which he praised former rival and local favorite Sen. Hillary Clinton as an "extraordinary," "tough" woman who "wore [him] out"--Barack Obama appeared to think his work was done. After all, he'd finished his signature remarks, delivered his signature sign-off ("We will change the world!") and slipped offstage to the sound of his signature exit song (the aforementioned Stevie Wonder soul classic). He was mistaken--which is why, a moment after it began, the music screeched to a halt and the candidate reappeared at the mic. “Hold on a second guys," he said as the crowd filed out. "I was getting all carried away. I’ve got one more thing that is important.“

Obama, it seems, had completely forgotten to mention the main reason for the soiree, which he was supposed to do, according to aides, right after he lavished praise on the former first lady--that is, helping Hillary pay off some of the $23 million debt she racked up during the Democratic primaries. "Senator Clinton still has some debt," he said, asking his supporters to contribute in the name of party unity. "And I could have had some debt if I hadn’t won, so I know the drill.” Aha. So that's why there were "Hillary Clinton for President: 2008 Primary Election Debt Retirement" forms under every single seat. Go figure.

Obama's forgetfulness was, of course, unfortunate. What it actually exposed--a subconscious resentment? a disinterested passivity? absolutely nothing?--is ultimately unknowable. But that didn't stop the political press from seizing on the slip as a reflection of the larger (and largely irrelevant) "Democratic conflict" it loves hyperventilating over--and obscuring the actual story of Obama's swing through New York. When the Illinois senator initially left the stage, reporters swarmed his aides to ask why he hadn't raised the issue of debt relief; when he finally returned, I watched one furiously revise her dispatch by BlackBerry. "Forget everything you said tonight," she whispered to herself, smiling as her thumbs thumbed away. "The only interesting thing is what you forgot to say." The result? A flurry of overheated stories with headlines like "Obama Almost Forgets Clinton" that quote ordinary Obamans saying they're "unlikely to send [Clinton] a check" and Clintonites like James Carville calling these holdouts "children" and  "amateurs" who are "playing with matches." In New York, Obama's "afterthought" led the news.

There are two problems with reports that cast any lingering antipathy between Team Obama and Team Clinton as the stuff of some sort of operatic drama. First, even without the "Nobamas" of the world on his side--I counted grand total of two members of the much-hyped PUMA group (Party Unity, My Ass!) outside last night's Hyatt event--Obama has enough money and enough Democratic support to keep John McCain choking on his dust (or at least five points behind) for the foreseeable future. (Even if he didn't, Clinton couldn't afford to look like she's anything less than completely committed, lest she be seen as undermining his campaign.) Second, the most interesting thing about Obama's Manhattan visit wasn't old conflicts with Clinton. It was how well their new partnership is actually working.

After leaving the Hyatt last night, Obama joined the New York senator for an even ritzier fundraiser--chocolates, martinis, votive candles--that had been moved from the Park Avenue apartment of Barbaralee Diamonstein and Carl Spielvogel to the Loews Regency to accommodate unexpected demand. Clinton kissed Obama on the cheek. Obama told the crowd that "with just half a wing, this bird can’t fly." And, at $33,100 a plate, the pair raised a stunning $4.1 million for the campaign and the DNC. This morning, they reunited for a woman-centric funder at the Hilton Towers hotel--price tag: between $250 and $2,300, with hosts raising as much as $23,000 apiece--where a loose, lighthearted Clinton called their partnership "one of those Ginger Rogers-Fred Astaire things" and delivered her most enthusiastic endorsement yet. "I understand how challenging it is to turn on a dime, to say, 'Okay, close that chapter,'" Clinton said. "But anyone who voted for me has so much in common with those who voted for Barack. And it is critical that we join forces." Obama, meanwhile, warned that McCain's Supreme court picks would undermine equal-pay and pro-choice efforts. By the time he left the city around 10:00 a.m., Obama (with Clinton's assistance) had expanded his war chest by $8 million to $15 million--in less than 16 hours.

When veep vetter Caroline Kennedy joined Obama and Clinton on their flight yesterday from Washington, D.C. to New York, the chattering classes immediately began chattering (yet again) about a "dream ticket." Neither Clinton nor Obama addressed the matter directly during their time in town, but the final line of Obama's speech this morning--which wasn't, for the record, included in his prepared text--certainly raised some eyebrows. "We will change the country and change the world," he said to hearty applause. "And you will give Sen. Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama a chance to transform America once again." A veepstakes hint? Who knows. But at the very least it suggests that the Obama-Clinton partnership is only beginning--and that her help last night and this morning is one thing the nominee won't soon forget. 

To veep or not to veep? That is the question. During the pause between the primaries and the conventions, the chattering classes always get confused. (Or more confused, as the case may be.) One moment, every “strategist” with access to makeup and MSNBC is claiming that the black Evangelical comptroller of Clark County, Ohio would undoubtedly put the Republican ticket over the top. The next they’re citing facts and figures meant to prove that the pick, in the famous words of FDR No. 2 John Nance Garner, isn’t “worth a warm bucket of piss.” They’re like dieters complaining about calories as they inhale a Cinnabon. With extra frosting.

They should quit whining. Simply put, this year’s veepstakes is the most significant ever. Yes, the old caveats still apply. No one votes for second fiddle. No veep pick since LBJ has single-handedly swung his home state. In fact, no sidekick has ever triggered a bump of more than two percent in the national vote, and none has ever--sorry, Dick Cheney--boosted his boss to victory. But Barack Obama and John McCain are not your typical nominees.

At 72, McCain would be the oldest guy ever inaugurated for a first term--and nothing increases the importance of an understudy like an aging leading man. McCain admits as much. “I’m aware of enhanced importance of this issue given my age,” he’s said. Obama, meanwhile, would be one of the two or three least seasoned presidents in U.S. history. (Polls show that only half of Americans consider him experienced enough to lead.) Again, this makes a “presidential” partner politically essential. Citing Cheney and Al Gore as examples, Obama campaign manager David Plouffe revealed last week that Obama will choose someone “qualified to be president… who’ll be a partner in governing”--and not a geographical pander. In the end, neither McCain nor Obama can afford the “frosting” of, say, a Dan “Potatoe” Quayle. And if they’re taking this seriously, so should we. So speculate away.

An historical crib sheet on some top choices:

THE MCCAIN ARCHETYPES

1. The Jack Kemp: Mitt Romney
Like Kemp, Bob Dole's '96 pick, Romney is a former foe who would add economic-policy heft to the ticket.

2. The Spiro Agnew: Tim Pawlenty
Like Maryland's Agnew, the Minn. governor appeals to the center and right, and could help in a key region.

3. The Geraldine Ferraro: Sarah Palin
Ferraro helped Walter Mondale make history in '84; reformist, salt-of-the earth Alaska Governor Palin could counterprogram Obama.

4. The Dan Quayle: Bobby Jindal
Chosen for his youth, 41's veep was too lightweight; hot La. Governor Jindal, 37, may be simply too young.

5. The Joe Lieberman: Joe Lieberman
Would do for Mac what he did for Gore in '00--boost moderate cred, Jewish support, ticket diversity.
 

THE OBAMA ARCHETYPES

1. The Al Gore: Kathleen Sebelius
Like Gore, the Kans. governor wouldn't balance the ticket or offer geographical help, but she would reinforce its core theme of "change through unity."

2. The Lyndon B. Johnson: Hillary Clinton
Kennedy accepted his rival out of electoral necessity. That's the only reason BHO would take HRC.

3. The Lloyd Bentsen: Sam Nunn
Detached, youngish and ethnic, Dukakis tapped an older, white Southern senator. Obama could follow.

4. The John Edwards: Tim Kaine
Kerry's '04 pick was a fresh-faced, white Southerner with blue-collar appeal. The Virginia governor fits the bill.

5. The Dick Cheney: Tom Daschle
Like Cheney, Daschle is a campaign insider and D.C. pro who wouldn't add electoral votes but could help steer his green boss through the swamp.
 

(Photo from LisaNH on Flickr)

Talk about symbolic overkill. When Barack Obama's press office announced yesterday that Obama and Hillary Clinton would hold their first joint rally this Friday in "Unity, New Hampshire," where "both candidates received exactly 107 votes... in the primary," I reflexively sought out the most convenient wall to bang my head against. Apparently, wrote the New Republic's Christopher Orr,  "the rivals were unable to find venues with appropriate seating in Help Retire My Debt, Penn., or You Should've Dropped Out In March, Fla." He forgot about I Still Won the Popular Vote, Ohio and Lady, It Was a Race for Delegates, Mich., but otherwise, my feelings exactly.

But then I got to thinking: Bill Clinton has been awfully quiet since Obama won the nomination. Actually, except for a one-sentence, secondhand endorsement issued today--"President Clinton is obviously committed to doing whatever he can and is asked to do to ensure Senator Obama is the next president of the United States," said a spokesman--he hasn't said or done anything at all. Of course, the most recent Democratic president can't exactly sit out The Most Important Election of Our Lifetimes ®, so he's going to have to sack up and hit the trail for the Obama sometime soon. The question then become, which town will set the right tone for Bill and Barack's first joint appearance?

The most obvious pick is probably Bill's birthplace of Hope, Ark.; like Clinton circa 1992, Obama likes to say the word hope a lot. But that might be drifting too far onto Bill's turf. If so, Obama should suggest the swing-state towns of New Hope, Penn.and Little Hope, Wisc. instead. That said, the whole hope thing might be a little overhyped. For other uplifting options, we'd probably try Progress, Ore.; New Era, Penn.; Presidential, Conn.; Democrat, Idaho; Opportunity, Mont.; or Forty Four, Ark. Friendship, Okla. is acceptable, if cheesy. Brothers, Ill. could work. But Manlove, Calif.? Perhaps a bit too much.

In fact, there may be more restricted territory than open terrain. Bill, for example, will probably want to skip Cheat Lake, W.Va., Intercourse, Penn. and Horneytown, N.C. Likewise, Obama should avoid Bitter End, Tenn. Recalling his famous critique of Obama's bid, Bill could suggest Fairyland, Tenn., but I doubt his new partner would accept; same goes for Bill and the plausible Obama destination of Jerktail, Missouri. And while Bigfoot, Texas might be accurate, it's not exactly the message anyone wants to send at this point.

So where to go? My personal favorite is a tiny historical village in Coshocton County, Ohio. It's in a swing state. It leaves even less to the imagination than Unity, N.H. And it pays tribute to the person responsible for bringing Bill and Barack together. Its name:

White Womans Town.  

Hope you have a wall handy.
 

When I wrote last Thursday about the possibility of Hillary Clinton receiving an invitation--no regrets allowed, s'il vous plais--to join Barack Obama's presidential campaign as his pick for veep, I noted that although "Clinton brings more pluses to the ticket than any other contender... she also brings more minuses." My conclusion? "Not likely."

Make that "bloody impossible."

Buried in a list of new appointments the Obama campaign announced Monday was this revealing little tidbit: "Chief of Staff to the Vice Presidential Nominee: Patti Solis Doyle." In case you've forgotten, Solis Doyle was the trusted Clinton confidante of 17 years--she started as Hillary's assistant in 1992, coined the term "Hillaryland" and went on to run her PAC and as well as her two Senate campaigns--who was handpicked by the candidate to manage her 2008 presidential bid, then unceremoniously yanked after Clinton's losses in Iowa and South Carolina. At the time, Solis Doyle promised that she would travel with Clinton and remain on as an adviser. "I have been proud to manage this campaign, and prouder still to call Hillary my friend," she said. But behind the scenes, Clintonites seethed, saying that Solis Doyle had run Clinton "into a ditch" by failing to plan beyond Super Tuesday. Cut off, she never appeared on the road again. And she hasn't spoken to Clinton since.

When Solis Doyle's name appeared yesterday afternoon on Obama's list, the chattering classes immediately started (what else?) chattering. Considering that Obama hired someone so clearly identified with Clinton for a job so clearly identified with the VP slot, there were only three ways, it seemed, to explain his decision:

1) A mere coincidence. Solis Doyle is friends with top Obama strategist David Axelrod, after all. Plus she's a prominent Hispanic female (the campaign is short on both) and a useful symbol of intraparty reconciliation.

2) A welcome mat. A familiar face, Solis Doyle will negotiate a truce and pave the way for--you guessed it--Clinton's forthcoming veep announcement. 

3) A snub. Solis Doyle is a disgruntled ex-Clintonite blamed for mismanaging Hillary's presidential campaign, and asking her to run his vice president's affairs is Obama's way of saying that frozen pigs will fly through hell before he lets the former first lady be his running mate.

If option one were true, Obama probably wouldn't have installed Solis Doyle in the only position guaranteed to spur this sort of speculation; if option two were true, he probably would've chosen someone on speaking terms with Clinton. So I'm leaning towards three. Apparently, much of Clinton's inner circle agrees. One associate told the Washington Post yesterday that they were in "shock." "It's a slap in the face," added Susie Tompkins Buell, a prominent Clinton backer. "Why would they put somebody that was so clearly ineffective in such a position? It's a message. We get it." And, as yet another Clintonite told CQ: "Translated subtitles aren't necessary. There is no other way to interpret this other than '[Expletive] you.'"

Is Obama speaking in (cuss-laden) code? Probably not. Then again, it doesn't take a paranoid to suspect that Solis Doyle's recent resurrection hurts Clinton's veep chances more than it helps. The dream may not be dead yet. But now the Comeback Gal's final comback is looking less likely than ever.

UPDATE, June 18: At least one Hillaryite sees it different. Here's Clinton cheerleader Lanny Davis speaking to Politico's Mike Allen:

“Senator Obama's decision to select Patti in a major role in the general election as chief of staff to the vice presidential candidate is indicative that he takes seriously the need to integrate Hillary loyalists into his campaign as  Hillary takes seriously encouraging her loyalists to support Senator Obama. Indeed, I still believe that the strongest ticket would be for Senator Clinton to be Vice Presidential candidate. … So it could be that Patti Solis Doyle will return to the role in which she has the most experience - chief of staff for her long-time friend and political mentor, Hillary Rodham Clinton. And if someone else gets Senator Obama's nod, Patti will do a great job for him or her."

Developing, as they say... 
 

Whither Hillary?

After conceding the Democratic primary battle to Barack Obama in Washington, D.C. last Saturday, the former first lady vanished--and she hasn't been spotted since. Understandably, we political junkies are suffering through the symptoms of withdrawal. At nine days and counting, Clinton's current hiatus represents her longest absence from public view since the start of her presidential campaign 17 months ago--if not the longest of her 17-year stint in the national political spotlight. At night, we awake in the cold sweat, muttering the phrase "18 million votes." By day, we roam the streets like zombies, clutching at every pantsuit we see. It was, in a word, inevitable.

So far, we've had only one clue to Hillary's whereabouts. On Thursday, the Washington Post reported that "Clinton has been at home in Washington and Chappaqua," where she, Bill and Chelsea are "currently taking some time off as a family" and "enjoying some well-deserved R & R." But while the New York senator is good at many things, relaxing isn't one of them. So we immediately suspected that there was more to the story than Clinton's surrogates were letting on.

Turns out we were right. At 2:18 this afternoon, an email from "Hillary Clinton" titled "Incredible people, incredible memories" (above) arrived in our inbox.  "Together, you and I changed America forever," she wrote. "We touched so many lives over the course of this campaign, and I can't thank you enough for the support you showed me. I met so many wonderful people out on the trail, and I wanted to share some of those memories with you." And then, in the blue, underlined text of an active hyperlink, Clinton unveiled the product of her prolonged seclusion. Was it a pitch for Democratic nominee Barack Obama? Not so much. A plea for party unity? Wrong again. Instead, Clinton has created (drumroll, please) ... an "online album with some favorite photos from the campaign"! But of course--sentimental scrapbooking. How else to spend a vacation? Click through for shots of Clinton with some confetti and a woman with a lot of buttons on her hat.

Oh, and in case you missed it, there's a big, red "Contribute" button at the bottom of each page of photos. Just in case you're so overcome with nostalgia seeing Hillary sign a poster for a young boy with "Clinton" written across his forehead that you decide to donate, say, $2,300 to help retire the senator's $30 million campaign debt. No pressure or anything.

"Thank you so much," writes Clinton, preemptively. "I'll be in touch soon."

Watch out, hopeless romantics. Next time she may break out the Celene Dion. 
 

In which Stumper examines the Democratic nominee's possible--and not-so-possible--vice-presidential picks. (Previous McCain installments: Bobby Jindal; Mitt Romney; Charlie Crist. Previous Obama installments: Ted Strickland; Jim Webb; Wes Clark.)

Name: Hillary Clinton
Age: 60
Resume: New York Senator, Former First Lady and Democratic presidential candidate

Source of Speculation: The buzz about a potential dream ticket started way back in January--when the outcome of the Democratic nominating contest was still unclear--and Barack Obama admitted as early as March that Clinton "would be on anybody's shortlist" for the vice presidency. But the chatter kicked into overdrive on the final day of primary season, June 3, when several news outlets reported that after months of sidestepping the issue Clinton finally told her supporters--either in response to a question or, according Buffalo News, by "bringing it up herself"--that she was "open to" signing on as Obama's veep.

Backstory: On March 5, the hosts of CBS's "The Early Show" asked Clinton whether she and Obama should be running mates. Her response: "That may be where this is headed." Later that day, Pennsylvania Gov. Ed Rendell hopped on the bandwagon, and Bill Clinton told reporters "she has always been open to it." But that didn't mean Hillary was ready to run as Obama's No. 2. "Of course, we have to decide who is on the top of the ticket," she told CBS. "I think the people of Ohio very clearly said that it should be me." With the math breaking in Obama's favor even then, Clinton's caveat prompted some commentators to wonder whether her VP rhetoric was, in fact, a "strategy for swaying fence-sitters"--and apparently Obama was one of them. "I have won twice as many states as Senator Clinton," he said in Columbus, Mississippi on March 10. "I have won more of the popular vote than Senator Clinton. I have more delegates than Senator Clinton. So I don't know how someone in second place is offering the vice presidency to the person in first place." At that, Clinton quickly backed off.  "It's premature to talk about whoever might be on whose ticket," she said the next day.

But as her chances of overtaking Obama's delegate lead dwindled over the next two months, aides and associates began reviving talk of a "dream ticket"--now with Clinton as No. 2. None was more vocal than the former president. "He is definitely talking it up, making no secret it would be a strong ticket for Barack Obama," George Stephanopoulos reported May 23 on "Good Morning America." "He believes she's earned the offer of vice president." By the time Clinton signaled in New York on June 3 that she would start to wind down her presidential campaign, behind the scenes, her next political push--a bid for the vice presidency--was already up and running. While supporters like Sen. Dianne Feinstein and Rep. Charlie Rangel pitched the idea publicly, Clinton was "le[aving] the door open" in private, according to a top strategist "Many of her supporters believe if she's not nominated she must be on the ticket," the strategist told Stumper. "They've been overt and aggressive about that." By confirming and reinforcing the speculation, I wrote, Team Clinton was clearly trying to put public pressure on Obama to pick her as VP at the precise moment that she has the most possible leverage--i.e., when many of her 17 million voters didn't want to see her go.

Odds: Not likely. Clinton brings more pluses to the ticket than any other contender--but she also brings more minuses. For every possible pro, in fact, there seems to be an equal and opposite con. For example: proponents of the pairing say that Clinton would assist Obama electorally by solidifying his support among the 18 million voters--many of them older women, Latinos and working-class whites--who chose her over him in the Democratic primaries. That's undoubtedly true. But even though Clinton would shore up some of Obama's demographic soft spots, she could do him irreparable damage elsewhere.

Take those blue-collar voters. As the New Republic's Noam Scheiber has written, "working-class whites who vote in Democratic primaries are often very different from the working-class whites who don't." That is, while the first group seems to dislike Obama, the second group--i.e., Republicans and independents--seems to dislike Hillary. (Overall, 67 percent of Republicans have very unfavorable views of Clinton, 24 percentage points more than feel that way about Obama; among independents, Clinton's 32 percent negative rating among Independents is 10 points worse than Obama's.) The result: you "risk alienating two groups of working-class whites by putting her on the ticket." The math is grim. In the polls, McCain leads both Obama and Clinton among Caucasians without college degrees by a similar 10-12 point margin--which only goes to show that if "Hillary wins certain working-class whites whom Obama would lose to McCain, then... Obama must be winning certain working-class whites that Hillary would lose to McCain." In the end, it's unclear whether Clinton could help Obama win back the former. But she'd almost certainly hurt him with the latter.

Similarly, there's no way of knowing whether the people who will vote for Obama just because Clinton's on the ticket will outweigh those who will vote against him for the same reason. But with her disapproval ratings hovering around 50 percent, there isn't much room for error. "“Conservatives ‘distrust’ McCain, but they ‘hate’ Clinton," the National Journal's John Mercurio has written. "And hate is a far stronger motivator. It’s a passion that would propel them to turn out for McCain on Election Day in a way no terrorist attack, Swift Boat ad or gay-marriage amendment ever could."

We can apply this same pro-con pattern pretty much across the board. With substantial experience inside the White House and on Capitol Hill, Clinton is probably best prepared of all the potential veeps to steer Obama through swamps of D.C.; she'd serve as his brass-balls prime minister, "tending to Congress and health care reform and trade agreements while Obama travels and inspires and thinks." And what better way to reinforce his message of bridging old divides, seeking consensus and getting things done than by uniting with an old rival? Then again, the inevitable distractions--a meddling, scandal-plagued Bill, Hillary's own ambitions and a media hungry for any sign of conflict--would make it difficult for the former rivals to work together effectively. And while choosing Clinton might symbolize unity, in practice the pick would completely undermine Obama's promise to "change" the long legacy of partisan warfare and endless score-settling in Washington. Plus it would look weak.

Either way, don't expect a decision until late July--at least. Right now, the biggest road block is probably personal: after a bruising primary battle (with a messy conclusion), there's little sign of trust, chemistry or compatibility between the two politicians. For Obama--as for any president--those things are important. That's why the senator will spend the summer working to heal old wounds and unite the Democratic Party. If successful, he won't need to call on Clinton. It's only if Obama can't pick up the pieces that this particular dream--or nightmare--has any chance of coming true.
 

'Tis the season for campaign postmortems: those ritual inside-the-Beltway political stories that ask "What went wrong?"--and, by relying mainly on disgruntled ex-staffers for the answers, often wind up light on insight and heavy on score-settling, finger-pointing and backstabbing. So in this week's dead-tree mag, we here at NEWSWEEK did something different: we looked forward. Not at Hillary Clinton's political future--there are plenty of VP?/Next Ted Kennedy?/NY Governor?/Supreme Court Justice? head-scratchers out there already--but at what's next for her psychologically. In one the best NEWSWEEK stories of the cycle, my colleagues Suzanne Smalley and Evan Thomas asked historians, operatives and former candidates to probe Clinton's state of mind now that her dream has finally died. The result is a moving exploration of the darkness after defeat. Excerpts:

When does reality—not just the political, but the personal—finally penetrate the emotions of a losing presidential candidate? For Hillary Clinton, it was not last Tuesday night. She had just given a semi-defiant non-concession speech to Barack Obama and had repaired to the 14th floor at Baruch College in Manhattan, where the bar was open and her big money people were milling about, half-watching the cable talk shows on large flat-screen TVs. As CNN's Jeffrey Toobin described "the deranged narcissism of the Clintons," many of the Hillaryites muttered about the press. "A lot of the women, and not just the women, were very emotional about how she'd been treated during the campaign, the sexism, and wanted her not to yield," Clinton's national finance co-chair, Mark Aronchick, recalled to NEWSWEEK. Aronchick says he told the candidate that she needed to get on Obama's ticket. Hillary did not respond, but she seemed calm and grateful for all the support. "She was patting her heart, listening very closely, taking it in," says Aronchick. Hillary's husband "was walking around chewing on a cigar, chatting it up with people," says Aronchick. The ex-president appeared, to Aronchick at least, to be in a great mood.

...

And yet history strongly suggests that Hillary Clinton is in for a tough time. Whether it is called "decompression" or, perhaps more honestly, depression, the crash is almost inevitable. "To run for the presidency, to come close and lose, you can be the most well-adjusted person on earth, but there is no one who is not going to find that an enormous shock," says presidential historian Michael Beschloss. In retrospect, Hillary was beaten in early May, after she lost badly in North Carolina and won narrowly in Indiana. The campaign, in one of many blunders, had raised expectations for both states that were dashed. Yet, perhaps to convince herself, Hillary hung on to hope—indeed, she seemed fiercely, almost giddily resilient in the final month. "The campaign bubble is made up of fervent supporters and passionate crowds that want her to win, and whatever the pundits are saying, whatever the math is, there's still that thought that maybe we can pull this out," says Doris Kearns Goodwin, author of biographies about Lincoln, FDR and LBJ. "I also think that maybe a candidate intuitively knows, as in Hillary's case, that once she pulled out, the depression would really sink in."

...

The real question is probably not whether Hillary Clinton will crash, but how hard and for how long. In 1984 Democratic nominee Walter Mondale lost every state but one. The story goes that, after the shellacking, he spoke to George McGovern, the South Dakota Democrat who had suffered a similar defeat 12 years earlier, in 1972. "George, when does it stop hurting?" Mondale asked. "Fritz, when it happens, I'll let you know," said McGovern.

The pain can be intense. In his memoirs, Richard Nixon described his rather lonely life after losing the 1960 election to JFK. Nixon recalled heating up a TV dinner in a small apartment on Wilshire Boulevard in Los Angeles and "eating it alone while reading a book or magazine." In 1977, journalist David Frost asked Nixon whether resigning the presidency was worse than death. "In some ways," Nixon replied, adding later in the interview, "and, to a certain extent, it still is."

Gerald Ford went to bed on election night in 1976 thinking he could still win and woke up to find out that he had lost. He disappeared, incommunicado, to Palm Springs, Calif., for eight days. "I don't think anybody took it harder than he did," recalled his former aide, Jim Cannon, to NEWSWEEK. After George H.W. Bush lost to Bill Clinton in 1992, he wrote in a memoir: "It's hard to describe the emotions of something like this … But it's hurt, hurt, hurt." In 2000, Al Gore grew a beard and went silent for weeks. "We were roadkill," recalled his wife, Tipper, to Vanity Fair.

The most forthright about the pain of loss may be Jimmy Carter. Just how blunt is revealed by Richard Fisher, who ran a losing campaign for the U.S. Senate from Texas against Kay Bailey Hutchinson in 1994. Shortly before the election, Carter came through Dallas and summoned Fisher, who is a friend. "You are going to lose," Carter announced. Fisher was a little taken aback and asked Carter why he was being so direct. "Because I want you and your family to be prepared: when you lose you will get depressed. I mean seriously depressed. Campaigning is like going to war. You put every ounce of your body and soul into it. If you lose, you feel lost." Fisher asked Carter if he had suffered depression. "I did," he replied. "As did Rosalynn." Fisher asked Carter if his faith had helped him get out of it. "Hell, no," Carter replied. "We were bankrupt. I had to get to work." (Fisher lost, got depressed and went back to work; he is now head of the Federal Reserve bank in Dallas.)

The first president to lose a re-election battle, John Adams, offers a lesson in coping. "It was a terrible trauma for him to be defeated in 1800 and go back to Massachusetts as a loser," says Beschloss. "But, once he got over the shock, he said, 'I have this wonderful marriage and I love my children and I love my farm and my books and my friends.' Because there were other things in his life, he was able to survive and prosper." Gore got back on his feet as the Paul Revere of climate change. Hillary seems more likely to stay in politics, to keep aiming for the White House. In her last weeks on the campaign trail, "she had a lot more fun, in a weird way," recalls an adviser who did not wish to be named describing the candidate behind the scenes. "She found herself. She was true to herself; she had much more fun; people responded to that. Although she was getting crapped on in the media and everyone was writing her off, it emboldened her, it evoked this amazing emotion." She may find that high again. But first, in all likelihood, will come the low.

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Remember the T-1000 from "Terminator 2: Judgment Day"? That's right: the android assassin sent back from the future to kill the young John Connor before he can grow up to lead the post-apocalyptic human race in a resistance battle against its machine overlords. From the way pundits and opponents--a redundancy, to some--have characterized Hillary Clinton's campaign, you'd think the former first lady was some sort of relentless futuristic robot as well.

Call her the T-2008. Made of mimetic liquid metal, the T-1000 could weather a face-splitting blast from a rocket launcher and re-form itself in seconds. Similarly, the T-2008 could place third in Iowa, lose 11 straight contests and slip irrevocably behind in the delegate count--then march onward, her pantsuit unsullied, to win big in New Hampshire, Ohio, Pennsylvania and elsewhere. So you thought being submerged in freezing liquid nitrogen and shattered into a million pieces would deter the T-1000? Think again, foolish humans. Likewise, not even the end of the Democratic contest, which came when Barack Obama won the 2,118 delegates necessary to clinch the nomination Tuesday night, seemed to deactivate Clinton's neural net processor. "This has been a long campaign, and I will be making no decisions tonight," she said, forgetting that the superdelegates had already made the decision for her. At that point, even some of her supporters began to wonder where the Clintonator's "off" switch was located.

So it was today, as the once and future senator from New York officially ended her barrier-breaking campaign and endorsed Obama before several thousand disappointed supporters at the National Building Museum in Washington, D.C. For the record, I have long predicted that Clinton would end her campaign this week. To be honest, I've never bought into the myth of Hillary as some "larger-than-life, freakish figure" desperate for power and determined to win at all costs. Instead, she's always struck me as an uncommonly ambitious wonk--a wonk who shares a born politician's confidence that she can best advance the causes she cares about, but a wonk all the same. Moreover, I've argued for months that Clinton earned the right to compete in every last primary--18 million votes, anyone?--and that her show of stamina would ultimately help, not hurt, the Democratic Party. ("Her supporters would surely find it easier to accept Obama as their nominee," I wrote on May 12, "if they were satisfied that Clinton had exhausted every reasonable opportunity to make her case.") That said, plenty of people--and pundits--disagreed. While we waited this afternoon for Clinton to depart her Washington, D.C. home, for example, MSNBC slobbered over live footage of her (ahem) empty driveway. "CLINTON HAS NOT YET LEFT, ENDORSEMENT SPEECH DELAYED," read the alarmist ticker----as if Terry McAuliffe, Harold Ickes, Geoff Garin and Bill Clinton were huddled inside, hurriedly rewriting Hillary's remarks at the last minute to announce that she would now campaign as the Bull Moose candidate for president. "Perhaps she's hiding in the bushes," quipped the ever-ungenerous Keith Olbermann. "Your guess is as good as ours."

But after all the guessing games--will her endorsement be enthusiastic enough? will she sound sincere? will she "suspend," or "end," or "withdraw" or "concede"?--Clinton simply strode into the cavernous, neoclassical hall, took the stage and delivered exactly the speech that Obama needed her to deliver. Did she spout Obama's talking points--"hope," "change," "Kansas," "Kenya," "a new kind of politics"--from start to finish? Not so much. In fact, she didn't say a word about why the Illinois senator would make a good president (and for that, I'm sure, her critics will complain). But to achieve her latest goal--party unity--Clinton's best bet is persuasion, not propaganda. Consider her audience: reluctant, mourning supporters who need to be convinced--not commanded--to consider her opponent. At this point, they don't really like Obama, and they definitely don't think Clinton (who just spent 16 months in attack mode) likes him, either. "I have stood on the stage and gone toe-to-toe with him in 22 debates," she said, sounding every inch the begrudgingly respectful rival. "I have had a front row seat to his candidacy, and I have seen his strength and determination, his grace and his grit." Anything more effusive would've seriously strained credulity.

So instead of cheerleading, Clinton empathized. She confessed that she shared her supporters' "disappoint[ment]." She said that her "commitment to you and to the progress we seek is unyielding." She assured them that even though "there are still barriers and biases out there, often unconscious," the "path will be a little easier next time"----an open expression of feminism that she would've avoided as recently as February. And then, having felt their pain, Clinton played the lawyer, presenting a modest, pragmatic case perfectly calibrated to connect with this particular jury: you are Democrats; you care deeply about Democratic issues; and there's only one Democrat left in the race. It was the savviest argument she could make. "The way to continue our fight now – to accomplish the goals for which we stand – is to take our energy, our passion, our strength and do all we can to help elect Barack Obama the next President of the United States," she said. "Think about the lost opportunities of these past seven years – on the environment and the economy, on health care and civil rights, on education, foreign policy and the Supreme Court. Imagine how far we could’ve come, how much we could’ve achieved if we had just had a Democrat in the White House. We cannot let this moment slip away." By the time Clinton declared, at the peak of her peroration, that she "was standing with Senator Obama to say: Yes we can," you actually got the sense that some--not all, but some--of her cheering supporters believed it.

And no, Hillary didn't flatten herself into a thin "carpet" of metal and ooze off of the stage. Those days, it seems, are over--at least until 2012.

My NEWSWEEK colleague Jonathan Alter just compiled a must-read list: five reasons Obama won, and five reasons Clinton lost. I've excerpted a few favorites below, and posted a link to the full story at the bottom.

WHY OBAMA WON

Organization The tone of every organization is set from the top. A fish rots from the head, but the head is also how the fish navigates. Obama started his professional life as a community organizer. In 1992 he led a drive that registered 150,000 Chicago voters. As his shout-out Tuesday night to campaign manager David Plouffe suggests, he looked for—and found—the best organizers in politics, regardless of age. Even had Hillary tried to organize in the caucus states, she would still have likely lost them.

Obama's superiority in planning and organization, traits that bode well for his presidency, showed up in everything from astonishing fund-raising to wooing superdelegates to social networking. With the exception of his failure to campaign more in Kentucky and West Virginia, which might have limited losses there, his scheduling and advance operations were also strong. The building of a 700-person organization from scratch, almost like an Internet start-up, is one of the unheralded stories of the campaign.

Respect for the Voters After Obama won 11 straight primaries in February, the campaign looked as if it was over. (Had Clinton won 11 straight, the political establishment would have placed enormous pressure on Obama to drop out.) Then came the Rev. Wright story, which Obama was slow to respond to. But when the video of Wright's offensive sermons circulated, he gave an important speech on race in Philadelphia. He trusted that voters would take the time to hear his complex remarks in context, and he was rewarded with several million views on YouTube. Later, when Wright went wild at the National Press Club, Obama broke entirely with his former pastor, this time in a thoughtful and well-reviewed press conference. He didn't do well in most later primaries, but that was more the result of unfavorable demographics than fallout from Wright. Had Obama handled that explosive story with clumsy answers, he would have been finished.

The best example of his respect for voters came on the issue of a gas-tax holiday, which exploded on the same day as Wright's rant. That day, April 28, was the first since the New Hampshire primary when it looked as if Obama might actually lose the nomination. His pastor was a hate-America wackjob and Obama was on the wrong side of a popular pander embraced by both Clinton and McCain. Coming out against relief for hard-pressed motorists was a gutsy move. It required a slightly complicated argument and a lot of faith in the intelligence of the public. But it paid off in Indiana and North Carolina, where his campaign went back on track.

WHY CLINTON LOST

No Respect for the Voters The flipside of Obama's respect for voters was Clinton's disrespect. It began with her announcement of her candidacy in early 2007, when she said she was "in it to win it." Why else would someone run? The not-so-secret assumption behind her entire campaign was that she was the inevitable nominee. But voters don't like