From the Magazine — April 13, 2015, 10:49 am

Eight Years of Hill?

No way, no how!

So now the suspense is over: Hillary is running for president! As if there was any chance she wouldn’t. She and Bill have been planning this for decades, all part of what they long ago dubbed “The Journey.” There was some idealistic content to their scheme at first, but that was shed with one compromise after another, until they became what they are today: a machine for raising money, attracting attention, and spinning modest tweaks to the status quo as somehow transformative. Hillary’s announcement was surprisingly empty, even by her standards—an evocation of diversity and inclusiveness without any actual political substance. She promised to be the “champion” of “everyday Americans.” How she will do this is a mystery compounded by a kickoff week of raising “an insane amount of money,” as The Daily Beast reported, from precisely the people who are causing “everyday Americans” such trouble. Many illusions about what Hillary stands for will be circulated in the coming months, some by cynical hucksters and some by the well-meaning and hopeful, but for a sense of what a President Hillary might do, it’s best to review where she came from and what she’s actually accomplished, which is what I did in “Stop Hillary!

Read Doug Henwood’s article on the Clinton dynasty, published in the November 2014 issue of Harper’s Magazine, for free at Harpers.org. Subscribe today for instant digital access to our entire 164-year archive.

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From the November 2014 issue

Stop Hillary!

Vote no to a Clinton dynasty

From the November 2014 issue

Stop Hillary!

Vote no to a Clinton dynasty

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No one would talk to me for this piece. Or rather, more than twenty women talked to me, sometimes for hours at a time, but only after I promised to leave out their names, and give them what I began to call deep anonymity. This was strange, because what they were saying did not always seem that extreme. Yet here in my living room, at coffee shops, in my inbox and on my voicemail, were otherwise outspoken female novelists, editors, writers, real estate agents, professors, and journalists of various ages so afraid of appearing politically insensitive that they wouldn’t put their names to their thoughts, and I couldn’t blame them. 

Of course, the prepublication frenzy of Twitter fantasy and fury about this essay, which exploded in early January, is Exhibit A for why nobody wants to speak openly. Before the piece was even finished, let alone published, people were calling me “pro-rape,” “human scum,” a “harridan,” a “monster out of Stephen King’s ‘IT,’?” a “ghoul,” a “bitch,” and a “garbage person”—all because of a rumor that I was planning to name the creator of the so-called Shitty Media Men list. The Twitter feminist Jessica Valenti called this prospect “profoundly shitty” and “incredibly dangerous” without having read a single word of my piece. Other tweets were more direct: “man if katie roiphe actually publishes that article she can consider her career over.” “Katie Roiphe can suck my dick.” With this level of thought policing, who in their right mind would try to say anything even mildly provocative or original? 

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