The friend is Chris Dodd, and the story is that, in order to protect Geithner and Obama, the administration threw Chris Dodd under that enormous bus that has come to shelter so many.
The basic facts are fairly well known at this point, after several initially conflicting stories: Dodd’s original bill had a clause that banned the AIG bonuses, and Geithner pressured him to eliminate the restriction, which he did. Congress passed it and Obama then signed the bill.
The only real question at this point is what did Obama know and when did he know it? Whether Geithner acted on his own (somewhat unlikely, IMHO, although the White House would prefer that you think so) or with Obama’s knowledge, there is no doubt that the impetus came not from Dodd but from the administration, and that Dodd is being sacrificed.
It couldn’t happen to a nicer guy. But whether or not I think highly of Dodd (I most decidedly do not), the point is that he’s been a big supporter of Obama and that he’s taking the fall right now.
Steve Kornacki writes:
The thought has surely crossed Chris Dodd’s mind more than once these past few days: is this how Barack Obama treats his friends?
But if Dodd had been paying even a particle of attention to Obama’s behavior (or, to be fair, to the dirty game of politics itself), he would have known the answer to be a resounding “yes.” I’m starting to get redundant here, but I keep going back to the earliest days of Obama’s political career (think “Alice Palmer”).
Besdies, would else you expect from an Alinsky disciple and instructor? Anyone—anyone—who believed Obama’s lofty pre-election rhetoric of change and transparency and morality was simply not paying attention to the actual behavior he had exhibited during his entire political career, as well as during the campaign itself.
I keep harping on the Alice Palmer story. Please read the whole thing if you’re not familiar with it, but here’s a quick summary:
The day after New Year’s 1996, operatives for Barack Obama filed into a barren hearing room of the Chicago Board of Election Commissioners.
There they began the tedious process of challenging hundreds of signatures on the nominating petitions of state Sen. Alice Palmer, the longtime progressive activist from the city’s South Side. And they kept challenging petitions until every one of Obama’s four Democratic primary rivals was forced off the ballot.
Fresh from his work as a civil rights lawyer and head of a voter registration project that expanded access to the ballot box, Obama launched his first campaign for the Illinois Senate saying he wanted to empower disenfranchised citizens.
But in that initial bid for political office, Obama quickly mastered the bare-knuckle arts of Chicago electoral politics. His overwhelming legal onslaught signaled his impatience to gain office, even if that meant elbowing aside an elder [African-American] stateswoman [and Obama mentor] like Palmer.
A close examination of Obama’s first campaign clouds the image he has cultivated throughout his political career: The man now running for president on a message of giving a voice to the voiceless first entered public office not by leveling the playing field, but by clearing it.
The article appeared in the Chicago Tribune in April of 2007. But it remained a largely local story. Somehow, most people—even those who follow politics rather closely—have never heard of it. Why was this not heavily publicized during the campaign? (Yeah, I know; rhetorical question.) Can you imagine what the MSM would have done with it if this incident had been in George Bush’s or John McCain’s past, ? (Yeah, I know; obvious observation).
Obama’s ruthlessness towards Palmer and all the other Democrats attempting to run against him in the primary of his very first election was a warning to all opponents: don’t mess with me, or I’ll screw you, and it doesn’t matter whether you’re friend or foe.
Except for the fact that it didn’t involve actual blood, Obama’s methods remind me of nothing so much as the way ambitious mobsters in “The Godfather” let everyone know at the outset what stuff they’re made of. But Mafia dons don’t ordinarily run for president.