Opinion

The spoiler: How Harold Ford Jr. will shake up New York politics

In the days since floating a possible run for Kirsten Gillibrand’s senate seat, Harold Ford Jr. — former Democratic congressman from Tennessee, current vice chairman at Merrill Lynch, dashing MSNBC talking head and the party’s next great black hope — has already upended New York politics. This week, Mayor Bloomberg, along with high-powered members of the Democratic Party’s machine, telegraphed their support for a Ford candidacy; one day later, Sen. Chuck Schumer, Gillibrand supporter, told Ford to back off. By late Thursday, Senate Majority leader Harry Reid had asked Bloomberg to stay out of it, and by Friday afternoon, Ford Jr. — otherwise silent on the issue — issued a statement saying he “is not going to be bullied.”

All this sturm und drang is fascinating, given two salient facts: In the year since her appointment by the deeply unpopular Gov. David Paterson, Gillibrand has proven distasteful to the party faithful, who view her as far too conservative. And she has failed to win over the electorate at large. (Most recently, Gillibrand drew local criticism for supporting the health care bill while not seeming to understand just what it would cost the city, telling the Post only that it “is good for New York” while declining to discuss it in detail.)

Into this void steps Harold Ford Jr. On paper, he seems a dream candidate for the state of New York: A stylish, cultured, incredibly telegenic African-American politician whose profile is both high (he is chairman of the Democratic Leadership Council) and low (no one outside of Tennessee really knows that much about him).

So: Just who is Harold Ford Jr., and what exactly does he believe?

Nearly 40 years old, “Jr.” — as he is known in his native Memphis — is the scion of a political dynasty; there, the Fords are considered the black Kennedys, their funeral home “the mothership” of community outreach. His father, Harold Ford Sr., was elected to the House of Representatives in 1975 and served for 22 years; Jr., his eldest, would succeed him. (Multitudes of other Fords have held elected office, and, also like the Kennedys, run into trouble with the law.) By all accounts, the son was groomed from birth.

“I can remember Harold Jr. giving speeches at 4 years old, memorizing them,” says his younger brother, Jake. “He would say, ‘If you want lower cookie prices, vote for my father.’ ”

“He was the kind of kid who always wanted to keep up with his father,” says Edgar Miller, who has worked at the Ford family business — N.J. Ford & Sons, one of the clan’s three funeral homes — for 40 years. “He stuck to his dad.” Another longtime family friend describes Jr. and Sr. as “extremely close — soulmates.”

The family had a plan: Harold Jr. would become the first black president of the United States.

HAROLD JR. was raised in Memphis and Washington, DC, where he attended the prestigious St. Albans private school. He went to the University of Michigan Law School, getting his law degree in 1996; that same year, he was elected to the House of Representatives. He was almost immediately regarded as a rising star; he was also one of the few young, single lawmakers on the Hill. He was highly social, but very difficult to know.

“He is purposefully bland and boring,” says a former girlfriend, who dated him during this time. “There was never a time in his life when he was real — and I don’t mean that in a pejorative way. But because he was raised in a political family, I think he got all the caution and care and the fear of publicity that it takes a regular politician 10 years to get.”

She recalls a young man who was outwardly confident but inwardly insecure, who couldn’t stand to be corrected or to fail at anything, no matter how minute. He worked hard, but aside from cocktails and cigars, had few — if any — outside interests. His favorite topic of conversation was legislation, but otherwise was lacking as a conversationalist.

“I used to make lists of things we could talk about,” she recalls, laughing. “I didn’t get the sense that he was curious. I just got the sense that if he had any kind of inner life, he killed it.”

Ford Jr.’s family history explains, at least partly, his relentless pursuit of the perfect façade.

His aunt, current state senator Ophelia, was videotaped falling off a hotel barstool in 2007 (she claimed it was her anemia); she was also accused of assaulting a cab driver and poll workers were indicted for stuffing ballot boxes in her favor in 2006. Congressman Emmit Ford, an uncle, resigned in 1981 after being convicted of insurance fraud; another uncle, state senator John Ford, was acquitted on charges of shooting at a truck driver out of his car but is currently serving time for taking bribes while in office. His father, Harold Sr., was acquitted on charges of federal bank fraud in 1993; his brother Isaac was arrested on a DUI in 2007, and his brother Jake copped to a DUI while running for Harold Jr.’s seat in Congress, to Harold Jr.’s great dismay. (Jake, whose disastrous run bled into Harold’s Senate campaign, was challenged by, among others, another Ford — his cousin, Joe.)

Harold, ultimately, declined to endorse Jake. Jake says he understood: “I think he did the right thing by focusing on the big picture,” he says, “and not getting into this free-for-all.” That “free-for-all” included published reports that Jake was calling his brother a “prima donna” and boasting “I’m the one who inherited my father’s political sense . . . all Harold got was the name.”

These reports — which Jake denies — did not go down well. “I said, ‘Dad, I got a little overzealous; I just really want to represent the 9th district.’ ” He pauses. “We grew up with a father who never lost.”

IN 2000, Harold Ford Jr. delivered the keynote speech at the Democratic National Convention, and believed he was on track for a Presidential run. But in 2002, he lost a challenge to Nancy Pelosi in a bid for House Democratic Leader. And then, in 2004, another young, charismatic, black politician arrived on the scene and delivered the keynote speech at the Democratic National Convention. Ford knew. In 2006, Obama made the trip to Tennessee a couple of times, to campaign for Ford’s run for US Senate. “There was not that much chemistry there,” says the reporter assigned to Ford Jr.’s run.

That year was not kind to Ford. He lost the race, badly damaged by what came to be known as the “Call me” ad — a blond white woman leering into the camera, begging Harold Jr. to do just that. The ad played on several themes: Ford Jr.’s reputation as a womanizer; his attendance at a Super Bowl party sponsored by Playboy; and, of course, the old miscegenation trope — playing on racist fears that a black man is coming for white women.

At least, that was the perception nationally. Locally, says the beat reporter, the reaction was quite different. “That ad always made me laugh,” he says, “because Harold Ford Jr. is about as sexually threatening as the late Michael Jackson. This is a man who regularly gets pedicures.”

Ford Jr. lost the race by a razor-thin margin. He was consoled with the chairmanship of the Democratic Leadership Conference. Then came Obama’s historic run for president, and Ford spent the bulk of 2007 and 2008 going on network television, stumping for the candidate who was stealing his dream.

“Barack leapfrogged him, and I think that crushed him,” says Ford Jr.’s ex. “That was everything to him, and enough people had been saying that he would be [the first black president].”

Ford has both benefited and suffered from comparisons to Obama. Both are highly likeable yet often inscrutable. The press loves them, often to the point of deference. Both are remarkably deft in straddling policy positions. But ultimately, most observers have concluded that Ford Jr. is the beta-Obama: smart but not brilliant, competent if not curious, a star but not a supernova.

“It is a microcosm of the Obama deal,” says one pol who went up against Ford for office. “If you’re going to battle him politically, you’re going to do it with one arm tied behind your back. The press gives him a lot of latitude.”

This former candidate adds that he considers Ford “a talent” and bears no ill will: “He’s not so high-minded that he won’t throw punches, but he’s also not Darth Vader. He’s a run-of-the-mill politico who will do what he has to do.”

He was a respected and well-liked lawmaker in his home state, no small feat given his district’s racial tensions and his family’s dubious legacy.

One reporter who has covered the family for decades says that “white conservatives [in Memphis] tend to look upon the Fords with suspicion, even abhorrence — with the exception of Harold Ford Jr. He is perceived the best of all, especially by conservatives.”

Conservatism in the South is its own strain, and so Ford Jr. was able to maintain his base while taking stances that are not likely to play well in New York City: He is a member and supporter of the NRA; he is personally against abortion but publicly pro-choice.

He supported the Iraq war, though in 2005, he famously stood up for Democrat John Murtha when a fellow member of Congress implied the high-profile Congressman was a “coward” for his anti-war stance; Ford was outraged, yelling “Say Murtha’s name!’ ”

That same year, though, Ford was roundly criticized for voting in favor a controversial banking bill, one which had a punishing effect on his district.

No one can figure out where he’s at politically. “He is who you want him to be,” says the Ford beat reporter. “It’s very hard to document who he is. He has mastered a campaign-style pol-speak in which he seems to be saying one thing or another, but is really saying nothing at all. Politically, he’s a chameleon. He absorbs the coloration of whatever room he’s in.”

After his defeat in 2006, Ford Jr. regrouped and relocated to New York City. He took a job on the board of Merrill Lynch, another one teaching at NYU, and another as a political pundit. He frequents the Waverly Inn, which is both incredibly exclusive and private.

His friendships, according to one acquaintance, are all “useful.” In 2008, he got married to a low-profile, well-bred NYC fashion girl named Emily Threlkeld, 11 years his junior; upon their engagement, he told the Washington Post, “She’s a great young lady and will make a great wife.”

“On the Hill, there are two rules: Never speak to the press, and never embarrass your boss,” says Ford’s ex. “I always thought that that was what he was looking for in a girl.”

Yet by all accounts, Ford loves attention, loves to be a topic of conversation, was even thrilled to be named as one of People magazine’s “50 Most Beautiful” in 2001.

“He loves to have himself written about,” says a close observer. “He will feed this bubble for months, whether or not he wants to run.”

WHAT ARE Ford Jr.’s chances? Based on the reactions of Schumer and Reid, Ford Jr. is clearly perceived as a true threat, a serious contender. He’ll undoubtedly be called a carpetbagger, but New Yorkers don’t ultimately care about that (cf. Robert Kennedy, Hillary Clinton). He’ll have to massage his more conservative stances, but so has Gillibrand, so that cancels out much of that criticism.

“Gillibrand is vulnerable,” says longtime political consultant Hank Sheinkopf. “The electorate is upset that she’s not been elected and that she might not be challenged. Ford is smart and is absolutely attractive to New York. Carpetbagging is not the issue; the problem is having the organization to get on the ballot.”

“I can’t speak to his conservatism,” says Bill Lynch, another prominent New York-based consultant. “But the votes he’s got to be most concerned about are downstate — Westchester, Nassau and Suffolk counties, these places that are extensions of New York City.”

Interestingly, for a man described as so conscious of what others think of him, not one person who spoke with the Post thinks political pressures will be a determining factor.

“Harold will only run if he has the money,” says one longtime ally. “And if he thinks he can win.”