David, We Hardly Knew Ye

Politically, the best day of David Paterson's life as governor of New York was probably his first day, in March of 2008, after Gov. Eliot Spitzer (D) resigned, having been caught in a prostitution scandal.

It's been downhill for Paterson ever since.

His relationship with the state legislature is rocky; his leadership skills are in short supply; and the process by which he named a Senate successor to Hillary Clinton was widely described as abysmal. So it came as no surprise when Paterson announced today that he is dropping his bid to win a full term in office — a race in which he seemed a long shot anyway.

Even the Obama White House made it clear, as far back as last September, that Paterson should step aside because he would be a drag on his fellow Democrats. See my post on that here.

The truth is, he's getting out before he got pushed out. Paterson's position became untenable following a devastating piece in Thursday's New York Times that detailed the story of a woman who was violently assaulted by David Johnson, a longtime aide to the governor. As the woman went to authorities to seek a protective order against Johnson, the State Police were allegedly harassing her to drop her charges. A member of the governor's personal security detail visited her in person. Paterson himself called the woman on Feb. 7, the day before she was supposed to appear in court for the third and final time. On Feb. 8, she failed to show up and the case was dismissed.

Paterson denied he ever suggested she drop the charges.

For all the anticipation and angst and rumor-mongering in New York political circles about what story the Times was working on — was it about the governor's drug use, involvement with other women, his role in the the kidnapping of the Lindbergh baby??, the tabloids breathlessly asked — ultimately it was this story.

And this is worse, far worse, than whatever secret peccadillos Paterson might have had in his past. His administration made battling domestic violence a top priority ... and here you have a top aide, with a history of altercations against women, accused of perpetrating awful acts of violence against his former girlfriend. And the Paterson administration, by all accounts, did what it could to protect the aide.

Things quickly began to spiral out of control. Late Thursday, Denise O'Donnell, Paterson's deputy secretary for public safety and a widely respected top criminal adviser, resigned:

The fact that the governor and members of the State Police have acknowledged direct contact with a woman who had filed for an order of protection against a senior member of the governor's staff is a very serious matter. These actions are unacceptable, regardless of their intent.

It is particularly distressing that this could happen in an administration that prides itself on its record of combating domestic violence. The behavior alleged here is the antithesis of what many of us have spent our entire careers working to build — a legal system that protects victims of domestic violence and brings offenders to justice.

In a sequence of events that seemed surreal even in New York politics, Paterson then asked state Attorney General Andrew Cuomo to investigate whether his office performed illegally or unethically.

Cuomo, of course, has been waiting in the wings for months, clearly ready to challenge Paterson for governor in the September Democratic primary, but saying nary a word about his plans. The thought of your top political adversary being the legal arbiter of your administration's conduct is just hard to fathom.

Like Paterson, Cuomo is the son of another New York political giant ... former Gov. Mario Cuomo. He was said to be on the list of those who wanted to succeed Clinton as senator — an appointment that went to Kirsten Gillibrand — and when that scenario never happened, he apparently set his sights on Paterson and the governorship. Cuomo himself ran for governor in 2002, challenging state Comptroller Carl McCall for the Democratic nomination. Cuomo dropped out late in the contest when it became clear he couldn't win. McCall, like Paterson, is African-American, and some New York black Democrats, such as Harlem Congressman Charles Rangel, had subtly warned Cuomo that the black community would not take kindly to his running against yet another black pol. Perhaps that was one reason for Cuomo's near-silence when it came to his intentions this year.

Another, of course, is that he didn't have to say anything. Paterson was doing it all for him.

Cuomo also served as secretary of housing and urban development in the Clinton administration, beginning in 1997. Four years after his ill-fated effort against McCall, Cuomo succeeded Spitzer as state attorney general. He is extremely popular and has a lengthy list of accomplishments as AG.

Meanwhile, with the Times' bombshell, Paterson's support in the African-American community, his last bastion of hope, quickly began to crumble. The Rev. Al Sharpton had convened a meeting scheduled for Saturday to talk about whether it was time for Paterson to end his campaign. Now that meeting is no longer necessary.

Other New York Democrats running for office this year, white and black, now no longer have to fear what damage Paterson could do to the rest of the party ticket.

But the truth is, the governor was never going to be the Democratic nominee this year. As I've written in this space for more than a year, he was either going to lose to Cuomo in the primary or he was going to decide not to run. The Times may have forced his hand, but ultimately he chose the latter course.

Still unresolved is whether Paterson will be forced to resign.

David Paterson didn't ask to become governor. When Spitzer selected him as his running mate in January 2006, few people knew much about him.

Here's what we did know: The son of Basil Paterson, a Harlem Democrat who himself ran for lieutenant governor in 1970 and who was one of the leading black political brokers in New York. The younger Paterson was handed the Democratic line in a special 1984 State Senate election in a Harlem district by those close to his father. Paterson served as Senate minority leader following a 2002 coup in which he overthrew a fellow Democrat. He ran, and lost, in the Democratic primaries for NYC public advocate in 1993 and Manhattan borough president in 1997. A likeable guy, with a sense of humor, he was not the most disciplined. He is legally blind.

But Spitzer was a shoo-in in 2006 — he won with an astonishing 70 percent of the vote — and few people gave Paterson a second look.

That was until March of 2008, when David Paterson began his rise — and fall — as governor of New York.