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Jonathan Alter - Newsweek Eli Segal never took a high government job, but Bill Clinton’s campaign chief achieved more than any cabinet member Feb. 24, 2006 - “Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring those ripples build a current which can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.” Those stirring words, uttered by Robert F. Kennedy in South Africa 40 years ago, were heard again at a huge funeral this week in Massachusetts. They were among the favorite quotations of Eli Segal, an extraordinary public servant who died Feb. 21 of mesothelioma (an asbestos-related disease) at age 63. Segal gave meaning to RFK’s line. Although he was almost unknown to the American public, he deserves credit for two tiny ripples that became the most lasting accomplishments of the Clinton presidency. I met Segal in 1992, after he had run several successful toy and crafts businesses and become chief of staff for Bill Clinton’s now-legendary campaign. He was, as Jack Lew (later Clinton’s budget director) put it, “the most beloved person on the campaign”-a soft-spoken organizer always ready with a smile or helpful piece of advice. While James Carville and George Stephanopoulos got the glory for strategy and communications in the “war room,” it was Segal who managed the operation day-to-day. Had someone less talented been in charge, the campaign might well have imploded under the weight of scandal and dissension. Clinton would have ended up an obscure ex-governor teaching law at the University of Arkansas. Before Clinton, Segal backed only losers. He had major roles in the campaigns of Gene McCarthy, George McGovern and Gary Hart. But he changed history even then, co-writing the key report that reformed party nominating rules to take power away from bosses in smoke-filled rooms and give it to primary voters. In the 1972 campaign, he hired Clinton, just out of law school, to run Texas for McGovern, who won just 17 percent. When Clinton hired Segal in 1992, Segal said, “The only thing I can promise you, Bill, is that I’ll do better for you than you did for McGovern in Texas.” He did, but I remember having dinner with Segal in Little Rock not long after Clinton’s victory and learning to my surprise that he had no interest in a major post in the new administration. Instead, he wanted to use his entrepreneurial skills to help Clinton fulfill his campaign promise to create a national service program. He was given a tiny office and no money but within months he established the Corporation for National Service, which became Americorps. By structuring the program with local control and managing it carefully, Segal built a base of political support and gave an idea loathed by Republicans a fighting chance of success. Today, Americorps is no longer controversial. About 400,000 young people have been enrolled so far (more than the number of soldiers who have gone to Iraq). They, in turn, have touched and changed the lives of millions. Segal took a particular interest in City Year, an urban community-service non-profit he later chaired. At the request of Nelson Mandela, he helped launch City Year in South Africa. The idea of young people engaging in community service is now deeply embedded in school curricula throughout the United States and much of the world. This accomplishment-greater than any by a Clinton Cabinet member-would have been enough on its own, but it was only the beginning for Segal. When Clinton signed welfare reform in 1996, many liberals were up-in-arms. They believed the president had sold out the poor, who would never be able to find jobs as required by law. Instead of whining about it, Segal got to work. Operating once more without a high-level job, he set about enlisting American businesses to commit to hiring former welfare recipients. His “welfare-to-work partnership” began with only five companies; the rest were afraid that those coming off welfare would be unreliable employees. I remember when Segal told me that companies willing to take the risk actually found welfare recipients were so grateful for jobs that they made better workers than those who had not been on the dole. Still clinging to stereotypes, I didn’t believe him at first. But slowly and with little publicity (I traveled with Clinton and Segal to a few welfare-to-work events but, like the rest of the media, did not cover them nearly as much as I should have), the program expanded. Eventually, 20,000 companies committed to hiring welfare recipients. They put them through a workplace training program that is now standard for all entry-level employees at major companies. Partly through Segal’s efforts, welfare reform became one of the most successful social programs of the late 20th Century. The Yiddish word mensch is overused nowadays, but it fits Segal, who was devoted not just to his family but to hundreds of young people inspired by his upbeat personality and example of how to meld careers in business and public service. When he got sick (no one knows where his asbestos exposure took place), scores weighed in on caringbridge.org, a terrific Web site that links the family and friends of the ailing. He was modest about his contributions, but the record for historians is clear: The economic growth, balanced budgets and foreign policy initiatives of the Clinton years have evaporated under George W. Bush. National service and welfare reform remain, the legacies of a president known by everyone and of his friend, who occupied what Harry Truman called the highest office in a democracy—citizen.
C 2006 Newsweek |
