Set out to solve the puzzle, and you immediately see why it's so hard: The everyday business of being Hillary Clinton right now means navigating between the hands-on president who gave her the job and a never-ending series of global obligations for which somebody -- and often as not these days that somebody is Clinton -- must show up. No wonder Clinton's public schedule is a seemingly endless procession of talking points-ridden events at which she tirelessly hails the work of women's empowerment networks or takes questions in a "townterview." Her traveling press corps may roll their eyes; her exhausted aides may barely look up from their BlackBerrys. But there is Clinton, upbeat and chipper.
Which is why it's so striking to talk to Clinton away from the perky photo ops and anodyne press conferences. She may be relentlessly on message, but she's no automaton. Ask anyone who's watched her work politics on the global stage these last few years, and they'll tell you the same story: Clinton is an adept behind-the-scenes operator, a tough negotiator not afraid to play the bad cop -- or make fun of the macho posturings of her many tough-guy interlocutors.
And so the Chen case, as accidental as it was, was also in its own way the perfect example of the secretary at work. Not necessarily Clinton as she'd like to be, but of what she has chosen to do in the world as she's found it.
In our interview, I had asked her about the blind dissident, and the perennially tough set of choices between the human rights advocacy that means so much to her and the pragmatic politics that are so often required in her job. She answered instead by talking about an emotional three-hour meeting she recently had with one of her heroes, Aung San Suu Kyi. The frail Burmese activist had won a Nobel Peace Prize for her brave defiance of her country's military junta, before making the surprise decision this year to run for parliament and cooperate with Burma's reformist new leader. "She could have been on a pedestal her entire life," said Clinton. "But she wants to be in the real world and see if she can make a difference."
The more Clinton waxed on about Aung San Suu Kyi, the more I thought she was also talking about herself -- a celebrity first lady who could have chosen to opt out of politics entirely but instead launched a whole new career as an ambitious U.S. senator turned combative presidential candidate before morphing yet again over the last few years.
"When I was first lady," recalled Clinton, "I could say anything I wanted to say, and I often did." Here she stopped for one of her trademark deep laughs before adding, "for better or worse." It's a laugh that makes her very human -- and also one that immediately called to mind the many controversies of Clinton's long career. Remember the "vast right-wing conspiracy" that was out to get her husband during the Monica Lewinsky scandal? And her defiant taunting of Obama during the 2008 primaries, when she said her future boss wasn't experienced enough to take that 3 a.m. phone call?
SUBJECTS:
