Only one of them represents a major American city: Mike McMahon.
Just before Thanksgiving, he stood before 20 of his daughter’s high school’s senior classmates at the tony Poly Prep Country Day in Dyker Heights and got to the essence of his predicament.
“Demographics are very important to win elections,” he said, explaining that the 13th Congressional district is “the most Italian-American district in the nation.”
“Think about that,” he said, letting the thought settle. “I’m Mike McMahon,” he said, wagging one finger, “a Democrat,” wagging the other.
Many of the Democrats who took over long-held Republican seats in 2006 and 2008 came from far outside the political class: entrepreneurs, career military personnel, even an NFL quarterback.
Not McMahon. He gave up a lucrative law practice in the 1990s to take a part-time job in the City Council to set himself up for an eventual run and, once in, slowly and carefully laid the groundwork for what was supposed to be a run for borough president. An outsider he is not: his wife is a state supreme court judge, both his brothers are lobbyists, and his sister-in-law is a deputy mayor. This all served him well last year, after Vito Fossella’s speedy and steep descent—a DWI on the way home from a Giants party at the White House? A secret second family for the family values man?—gave way to its own circus of an estranged punk rocker son challenging his father on a third-party ticket, that father dropping dead right after sealing up the nomination, and the Republican Party fighting to get rid of their candidate, one of their own former elected officials, up until the bitter end.
McMahon had always dreamed of getting to “The Big Show,” as he called it. But he never could figure out how he would have squeaked out a victory. Last November, he won by 28 points.
Even his laundry played a role. “You only have one dry cleaner?” McMahon marveled at John Luisi, the two-time Democratic nominee for Staten Island borough president, who was telling the then- Council member of how he was getting ready to ask his regular laundromat to hang a campaign sign.
“I have three,” Luisi remembers McMahon saying. “To take something so personal, like who does your dry cleaning, and try to figure out how to get a political advantage out of it,” Luisi said. “I don’t know. It just shows what a serious political player he is.”
At Poly Prep, he told the students about fundraising, about dealing with the press, about the demands being a congressman has put on his family life.
They asked him about Obama, and he talked about the stimulus bill, which he enthusiastically favored, the bank bailout, which he tepidly did, and the health care bill, which he did not. He played the part of the cautious moderate, careful what he votes for, careful what he says about those votes.
Though it is not clear that McMahon has any reason to be so concerned, so cautious, so careful. The Republican Congressional Campaign Committee is targeting two dozen Democrats in 2010, and McMahon does not seem to be the top of that list. And when national political guru Stu Rothenberg came out with his “Dirty Dozen” list of seats most likely to flip, McMahon was not on it. When asked where the Staten Island congressman would appear, Rothenberg said, “not on the top 30.”
McMahon benefits from a Republican Party that is riven with disorder and that has yet to attract what he calls an A-list opponent: a current elected official who comes with a geographic base and a record.
Instead, he has Mike Grimm, a former FBI agent who made his name busting a mafia capo unwittingly employed by the family business of his declared GOP rival, Michael Allegretti, a 31-year-old energy expert who raised $200,000, but who just moved to the Staten Island side of the district—where 80 percent of the electorate resides.
But McMahon is leaving nothing to chance. His days in the district are a whirlwind of fundraisers, senior centers and shaking every outstretched hand in Staten Island and Brooklyn. He has raised close to $1 million already. He has high name recognition and is the most popular Democrat on Staten Island. But he has a lot of seniors and union members in his district, who vote in high numbers in midterm elections and who see nothing in health care reform.
And so, McMahon says, he is the underdog.
“I’m what’s called a marginal,” he told the students. “A target. A frontline district—meaning that the Republicans have targeted this district as one they want to take back because they think I got in under unusual circumstances.”
The students stared up at him. “I don’t expect to have that easy a time next time around.”
After leaving the school, McMahon and his driver pulled out on to the Verrazano Bridge to head back to Staten Island, a place which is politically far closer to the heartland than the Heartland Brewery in Times Square.
On the bridge on his way to a dedication ceremony at a firehouse, he mused on the political possibilities of talking to his daughter’s classmates.
“It’s not so much the politics, it’s the fun part of it,” he said, before admitting, “but you know, they tell their parents you were there, and the buzz goes out in that regard.”
There is also a practicality to it. “Besides, during the day kids in school and senior citizens are the only ones around,” he said.
After Poly Prep, McMahon visited five senior centers before lunchtime for the annual turkey trot, where he joined other elected officials to drop off frozen Thanksgiving birds before the holiday—and constituents dropped all their frustration with the Obama administration on him.
“I did not vote for the guy, but I want to root for the guy,” said one old-timer as McMahon smiled grimly and silently. “But he keeps getting worse and worse.”
They asked about the stimulus, which McMahon voted for, (“Hopefully those jobs will start showing up soon,” he said), about taxes and deficits and jobs.
They cornered McMahon on their Social Security Cost of Living Adjustment, which was down for the first time in years, with the Consumer Price Index falling due to the weak economy.
“Just my luck,” McMahon said when he was safely out of earshot. “I get into office and for the first time in a generation the CPI is down.”
Mostly though, they asked about health care. McMahon is something of a wonk, and patiently explained about cuts to Medicare Advantage, about the public option and single-payer and whom the new bill would affect and how.
Early on in his tenure on the Council, Mike McMahon was under pressure to vote with the leadership in favor of a big property tax increase that was wildly unpopular on Staten Island. After some agonizing, he decided he could not disobey the leadership, and it is a vote that Republicans intend to use against him eight years and a different legislative body later. He has taken those lessons to Washington, where McMahon’s colleagues say he was quietly firm from the beginning that he would be a “No” vote, something of a feat, considering most of the New York delegation voted in favor.
“I think sometimes the assumption is, you are from New York, you should be able to vote with the leadership—but in both our cases, in order for us to win re-election our supporters need to come not just from the Democratic base but from swing voters,” said Dan Maffei, an upstate congressman. “There is a clear understanding that certain members from certain districts really shouldn’t vote for bills—I’m talking about members from Colorado or Mississippi. But if there is an ‘NY’ next to your name, I do believe that leadership, even subconsciously, believes we are in more Democratic districts than we are.”
McMahon straddles this line, too. Take upstate Rep. Mike Arcuri (who voted for the health care bill): “He always says, ‘I’m not from New York City, I’m from Staten Island.’” Or take Tom Rooney, a GOP freshman with whom McMahon has struck up an alliance that has brought both a lot of positive media coverage: “To be honest with you, I’m not even really sure where he is from,” he said. “I know he is from New York, but I honestly don’t know where.”
McMahon disputes the idea that his “No” vote on health care was political protection drummed up by Nancy Pelosi and the Democratic leadership, meant to insulate him against any challengers. This is really how he felt, he insists.
“There were no passes,” he said. “No one was given an easier time than others. … I was not given a political pass or an electoral evaluation concession.”
McMahon did not publicly announce which way he was going to vote on the health care bill until four days before the final vote. Other than the proposed special tax of executive bonuses, which McMahon claimed would impact Staten Islanders who worked on Wall Street, he has stood firmly with Obama and the Congressional leadership on the stimulus, cap and trade, and S-CHIP. That he chose to dissent on health care just as the 2010 speculation was really gearing up led many across the political spectrum to charge McMahon with political pandering. He was, they say, just trying to bring his laundry to as many dry cleaners as possible.
And some of them are not having it. “People are not stupid,” said Tom LaManna, who worked alongside McMahon in the City Council. “He hasn’t shown great independence before, and then he’s giving all kinds of mixed signals for way too long on that vote, then he votes a quiet ‘No.’ People are saying he can be a little too cute sometimes.”
If McMahon’s health care vote was a head fake, his Republican opponents were not fooled, and are already hitting with all the standard choice lines.
“His first vote was for Nancy Pelosi, and that is problem number one,” says Grimm, the former FBI agent. “With this liberal administration, the Obama administration, we will see more of what we are seeing: more taxes, cap and trade, health care reform, which is abomination. Him being there with this administration just furthers that along.”
Although most Staten Islanders are registered Democrats, Island politicos say that the typical voter profile there is of someone who fled the urban centers of Brooklyn and Queens to get closer to suburban (read: whiter) living.
Voters there are notorious ticket splitters, and even though the district went Republican in 2008, Obama provided some measure of protection to McMahon that will not be there come November.
“In 2008, voters who did not feel comfortable with Obama were able to vote for McCain and still vote for McMahon. This time, the only avenue to send a message to President Obama is to vote Republican,” said Dave Wasserman, the House editor of the Cook Political Report. “The voters are angry at the way the Democrats are proceeding are more likely to show up in 2010.”
Allegretti, the energy expert, is also trying to capitalize on the toxicity that he believes comes with McMahon’s party affiliation.
“One vote does not make a congressman a different shade of blue,” he says. “His voting record will speak for itself because we will expose it. There is a tide in this country against the Democrats in Congress. That is something he is swimming an upstream battle against.”
Every marginal Democrat in the country has been through this ground with their political consultants. McMahon, though, faces his own set of challenges, with the odd conglomerate of voting blocs in the 13th Congressional district that leaves him open on the left as well as the right. He has never been a darling of the Democratic Party regulars and activists on Staten Island— he is more a member of “The McMahon Party,” they scoff. He exacerbated those feelings when he endorsed a Conservative for borough president and Michael Bloomberg for mayor this year. (Both endorsed McMahon in his 2008 Congressional race.)
“I think he is disloyal,” said Susan Chew, a Democratic Party activist on Staten Island. “He is the highest ranking Democrat on Staten Island, and he doesn’t endorse Democrats. If he supports Republicans, should we support a Republican against him?” For this crowd, the vote against health care may be the last straw.
“Health care is not just another issue, this is a defining moment,” said one leading Democrat official. “How would you like to have a representative who voted against Social Security? He doesn’t dare be out front on some great injustices out there, which is why progressives are wary of him.”
After the health care vote, several unions rallied to denounce McMahon. There began rumblings on the Island about somebody mounting a challenge against him from the left on the laborbacked Working Families Party line.
“If somebody runs a hard primary against him and stays in the race on a minor party line, he will absolutely lose and the district will go Republican,” the Island Democrat said.
He added that many of the district’s hardcore Democrats would like to see the district split after redistricting between two progressives like Reps. Jerry Nadler and Anthony Weiner, whose districts abut McMahon’s. With New York set to lose at least one seat after the next census, they say, those lines are going to get wider anyway.
“There are some people who think—let it go to a Republican, then in redistricting just carve the district up among two other Democrats. Then you get real Democrats rather than a guy you can’t depend on. That’s the Nadler/Weiner solution.”
In September, McMahon’s former chief of staff and anointed successor, Kenny Mitchell, another moderate Irish Democrat from the old guard, was routed in his rematch with Debi Rose, an African-American activist who went into the primary with strong Working Families support. For a moment, Mitchell considered remaining an active candidate on the Conservative line. Rumors floated that McMahon would support him if he did (McMahon had himself beat Rose for the seat in 2001).
Though Mitchell ultimately opted out in deference to his old boss, McMahon’s belated endorsement of Rose angered some of the Democratic activists and African-Americans he will need to survive.
When told about this, Stuart Rothenberg—the congressional watcher who had been so sure of McMahon’s standing—paused to reassess.
“When we see situations like that,” he said, “it makes us cautious.”
Rose’s win set off new rumblings of the long-rumored Fossella comeback. Democrats on the Island say that for all the scandal, the still-wildly-popular old pro is the one with the best chance of beating McMahon. Fossella has kept quiet—to an extent. After the September primary, he appeared at a parade for the Island’s Little League team, spoke at a local health care forum, and has begun blogging at the conservative site Red State, where he accused the Obama Administration of “tripping all over itself to apologize, to ignore history, to coddle tyrants and terrorists.”
As the calendar ticks on, though, Fossella seems less and less likely to get involved.
“We’ve seen remarkable comebacks in American politics, but that would be up there,” said Wasserman, the analyst for the Cook Political Report.
If McMahon is successful in 2010, he could remain a congressman for a very long time. The political savvy that got him to Congress could help him get the linedrawers in Albany to make his district more favorable, by either moving further into Brooklyn or taking on parts of the southern end of Manhattan. He is already the freshman whip, a possible stepping stone to eventual House leadership.
Meanwhile, McMahon’s path to victory in 2010 is similar to that of many newly elected Democrats around the country: focus on the district, and let the national debate play itself out. He couches every vote he has taken in how it will benefit the district, what it will do to transportation or job growth or the environment. He still attends ribbon-cuttings for funds he secured for projects while he was still in the Council. He is relying on his old network of Democratic colleagues that still serve in the Council to make introductions in neighborhoods where he still needs to meet new voters.
One of his best human shields is Vinny Gentile, the popular Brooklyn Council member who joined him for part of the pre-Thanksgiving turkey trot to make introductions to rooms of gray heads in Bay Ridge.
“This is the guy fighting for your health care in Washington, D.C.,” he said, trying to get their attention.
It was a tough room. “Why are they raiding Medicare?” one woman implored him. “It’s not fair!” “He didn’t vote for it!” Gentile said, getting in the way. “He didn’t vote for it!” And then he grabbed McMahon by the arm and shuffled him off to the next table.
dfreedlander@cityhallnews.com“I’m what’s called a marginal,” McMahon said. “A target. A frontline district— meaning that the Republicans have targeted this district as one they want to take back because they think I got in under unusual circumstances.”
