After Living Through History, New York GOP Insider Tries Writing Some
Rockefeller veteran Richard Rosenbaum publishes political memoir
Fri, 12 Sep 2008 14:51:00
Growing up in the North Country, two things prepared Richard Rosenbaum for a long and noteworthy career in New York politics: being Jewish and having no hair.
Rosenbaum held several different roles in New York politics during the '70s and '80s: chief of staff to Gov. Nelson Rockefeller, head of the state GOP for four years, New York State Supreme Court judge and one-time gubernatorial candidate.
But had he not been born to Jewish immigrant parents in the 1930s in Oswego County, and had he not been struck by alopecia at the age of eight, Rosenbaum said he would have led a very different life.
"Between the hair and the Jew thing, I caught hell," said the 77-year-old Rosenbaum, sitting in his publicist's office in Midtown Manhattan, the fluorescent light reflecting off his scalp. "I didn't realize it then but I realize it now. I had to overcome all that. And in doing so, I developed a certain amount of compassion for people's feelings."
An infectiously jovial man with thick, box-framed glasses and a scratchy voice, Rosenbaum today works as a senior counsel for Nixon Peabody LLP in Rochester, but decided a few years ago that the time had come to get all his favorite stories from his long career down on paper. The result is No Room for Democracy: The Triumph of Ego Over Common Sense, released in September by RIT Press, a small publishing group out of the Rochester Institute of Technology.
Over the course of his 40-year career, Rosenbaum has rubbed elbows with Gerald Ford, Dick Cheney, George Bush, Donald Rumsfeld, Ronald Reagan and Richard Nixon. In his forward to the book, Henry Kissinger wrote that Rosenbaum applied the grease that kept the gears of government running smoothly.
"A keen analyst of the political process, no one better understands the workings of government and the minds of those attracted to it," Kissinger wrote.
Although Rosenbaum did not sit down to write it for 30 years, the idea of a book first came to him in 1974, while flying over the Black Hills of South Dakota with Rockefeller. The governor, Rosenbaum said, asked him if he wanted to see Mount Rushmore.
Thinking they would land the plane to see the famous landmark, Rosenbaum said yes.
Rockefeller disappeared to the back of the plane and minutes later, the mountain lit up.
"I thought God was on the plane," Rosenbaum said. "'Let there be light.'"
But back then Rockefeller was less of a god and more of a reviled figure in most Republican circles outside New York, criticized for his liberal stances on the economy and the environment, Rosenbaum said. Watching the GOP's struggles today, Republicans would be wise to embrace the former governor's legacy, he said.
"He had the vision and he was a charismatic leader," Rosenbaum said angrily. "But, 'oh no', he wasn't conservative enough."
One of Rockefeller's enduring legacies is the Empire State Plaza in Albany, a complex of marble government buildings adjacent to the capitol building. Rockefeller was criticized for the demolition of several historical buildings and the forced removal of several minority inhabitants to make room for the project's construction, but Rosenbaum says the project was designed to consolidate government services, which before were scattered across the capital region at a cost to the state.
Asked whether there was anyone in New York politics today that could take up Rockefeller's mantle of liberal Republicanism, Rosenbaum was doubtful.
"There's no one like Rockefeller. There never will be," he said. "He was a unique man."
That said, Rosenbaum sees a lot to admire in his home state.
Senate Majority Leader Dean Skelos (R-Nassau) has some large shoes to fill, Rosenbaum said, referring to the former majority leader and his ping-pong partner, Joe Bruno. This year's elections will be an important test for him, and an important moment for the state, said Rosenbaum, who, unsurprisingly, argued that an all-Democratic state government would be unhealthy.
Rosenbaum was full of praise for Gov. David Paterson (D), whom he called an admirable leader, noteworthy for the personal obstacles he has had to overcome and for his efforts to curb government spending.
"This is a guy who overcame his eyesight problem to become a senator and governor," he said, drawing a connection to his own alopecia. "I relate to that."
The players in state politics from Rosenbaum's days are mostly all gone, and the game itself is strikingly different, he admitted. In writing his book, Rosenbaum sought to present a contrasting scene to today's politics. During the '70s, politicians were completely reliant on the state party for campaign cash and institutional support. Today, Rosenbaum said, the scene is much less disciplined.
"It's every man for himself," he said. "The senators. The assemblymen. They go out and they raise their own money to run. When they get elected, they build up the party in their own image because they want to perpetuate themselves in office."
Like so many aging political veterans of both parties, Rosenbaum sees far too much viciousness in politics today. He said he hopes his book will take interested readers back to a time when politicians tried to outwit one another, as opposed to dragging each other through the mud.
"You don't have to agree, but you don't have to be disagreeable," he said. "All it was, was trying to outsmart the other guy with strategy."
Rosenbaum hopes readers will pick up some of that strategy from his book for themselves. He was thrilled to learn recently that a political science professor at a local school was planning to recommend it to his students. As for the book's place in the broader library of political memoirs, Rosenbaum, with his characteristic wink and a smile, had his own opinion.
"I think it belongs in the archives of Pulitzer Prizes," he said. "And a Nobel Prize, too."
Rosenbaum held several different roles in New York politics during the '70s and '80s: chief of staff to Gov. Nelson Rockefeller, head of the state GOP for four years, New York State Supreme Court judge and one-time gubernatorial candidate.
But had he not been born to Jewish immigrant parents in the 1930s in Oswego County, and had he not been struck by alopecia at the age of eight, Rosenbaum said he would have led a very different life.
"Between the hair and the Jew thing, I caught hell," said the 77-year-old Rosenbaum, sitting in his publicist's office in Midtown Manhattan, the fluorescent light reflecting off his scalp. "I didn't realize it then but I realize it now. I had to overcome all that. And in doing so, I developed a certain amount of compassion for people's feelings."
An infectiously jovial man with thick, box-framed glasses and a scratchy voice, Rosenbaum today works as a senior counsel for Nixon Peabody LLP in Rochester, but decided a few years ago that the time had come to get all his favorite stories from his long career down on paper. The result is No Room for Democracy: The Triumph of Ego Over Common Sense, released in September by RIT Press, a small publishing group out of the Rochester Institute of Technology.
Over the course of his 40-year career, Rosenbaum has rubbed elbows with Gerald Ford, Dick Cheney, George Bush, Donald Rumsfeld, Ronald Reagan and Richard Nixon. In his forward to the book, Henry Kissinger wrote that Rosenbaum applied the grease that kept the gears of government running smoothly.
"A keen analyst of the political process, no one better understands the workings of government and the minds of those attracted to it," Kissinger wrote.
Although Rosenbaum did not sit down to write it for 30 years, the idea of a book first came to him in 1974, while flying over the Black Hills of South Dakota with Rockefeller. The governor, Rosenbaum said, asked him if he wanted to see Mount Rushmore.
Thinking they would land the plane to see the famous landmark, Rosenbaum said yes.
Rockefeller disappeared to the back of the plane and minutes later, the mountain lit up.
"I thought God was on the plane," Rosenbaum said. "'Let there be light.'"
But back then Rockefeller was less of a god and more of a reviled figure in most Republican circles outside New York, criticized for his liberal stances on the economy and the environment, Rosenbaum said. Watching the GOP's struggles today, Republicans would be wise to embrace the former governor's legacy, he said.
"He had the vision and he was a charismatic leader," Rosenbaum said angrily. "But, 'oh no', he wasn't conservative enough."
Rosenbaum still harbors some resentment toward Ford for jettisoning Rockefeller from the ticket in 1976 in his race against Jimmy Carter. Had Ford kept Rockefeller as the vice-presidential nominee, Rosenbaum said, he could have taken New York and probably the whole race. And had Rockefeller stayed in the vice-presidency, Rosenbaum is convinced his friend could have been president himself.
One of Rockefeller's enduring legacies is the Empire State Plaza in Albany, a complex of marble government buildings adjacent to the capitol building. Rockefeller was criticized for the demolition of several historical buildings and the forced removal of several minority inhabitants to make room for the project's construction, but Rosenbaum says the project was designed to consolidate government services, which before were scattered across the capital region at a cost to the state.
Asked whether there was anyone in New York politics today that could take up Rockefeller's mantle of liberal Republicanism, Rosenbaum was doubtful.
"There's no one like Rockefeller. There never will be," he said. "He was a unique man."
That said, Rosenbaum sees a lot to admire in his home state.
Senate Majority Leader Dean Skelos (R-Nassau) has some large shoes to fill, Rosenbaum said, referring to the former majority leader and his ping-pong partner, Joe Bruno. This year's elections will be an important test for him, and an important moment for the state, said Rosenbaum, who, unsurprisingly, argued that an all-Democratic state government would be unhealthy.
Rosenbaum was full of praise for Gov. David Paterson (D), whom he called an admirable leader, noteworthy for the personal obstacles he has had to overcome and for his efforts to curb government spending.
"This is a guy who overcame his eyesight problem to become a senator and governor," he said, drawing a connection to his own alopecia. "I relate to that."
The players in state politics from Rosenbaum's days are mostly all gone, and the game itself is strikingly different, he admitted. In writing his book, Rosenbaum sought to present a contrasting scene to today's politics. During the '70s, politicians were completely reliant on the state party for campaign cash and institutional support. Today, Rosenbaum said, the scene is much less disciplined.
"It's every man for himself," he said. "The senators. The assemblymen. They go out and they raise their own money to run. When they get elected, they build up the party in their own image because they want to perpetuate themselves in office."
Like so many aging political veterans of both parties, Rosenbaum sees far too much viciousness in politics today. He said he hopes his book will take interested readers back to a time when politicians tried to outwit one another, as opposed to dragging each other through the mud.
"You don't have to agree, but you don't have to be disagreeable," he said. "All it was, was trying to outsmart the other guy with strategy."
Rosenbaum hopes readers will pick up some of that strategy from his book for themselves. He was thrilled to learn recently that a political science professor at a local school was planning to recommend it to his students. As for the book's place in the broader library of political memoirs, Rosenbaum, with his characteristic wink and a smile, had his own opinion.
"I think it belongs in the archives of Pulitzer Prizes," he said. "And a Nobel Prize, too."
