Orthodox Democrat: The fall of Joe Lieberman - political decisions of Senator Joe Lieberman

National Review, Dec 31, 2000 by Jay Nordlinger

'Say it ain't so, Joe"-it was one of the most common headlines of the 2000 campaign. And it was found not only in the conservative press, but in more mainstream precincts as well. The "Joe," of course, was Sen. Joseph Lieberman, Al Gore's running mate, and increasingly his likeness. In myriad ways, Lieberman disappointed his old admirers, and attracted new ones. And it was, indeed, "so."

For about ten years, Lieberman had been many Republicans' favorite Democrat: the very model of a "New Democrat," freed of the nonsense of his party's Left. But then he had his rendezvous with Al Gore and national Democratic status, and collapsed like a house of cards. To be sure, the Lieberman style remained intact: the religiosity, the sanctimony, the self-absorption. But the substance of the man seemed to evaporate before our eyes. This led to the jibe "All yarmulke, no Torah" (to go with the less fresh "All hat, no cattle" applied to George W. Bush).

Even in a profession packed with egos, Joe Lieberman stands out. He sometimes brings to mind the old expression, "He'll die in his own arms." And a man once seen as almost above politics-a thinker, a statesman, a man of "conscience"-is now understood to be an ordinary pol, or worse. Three weeks into the Florida postelection season, Chris Matthews, the journalist and ex-aide to Tip O'Neill, marveled as follows: "I sense that Joe Lieberman is the horniest, most ambitious politician I have ever seen in my life." He is not unique, though. Lieberman has a close analogue in his fellow senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan, another vaunted "conscience of the Senate." Both men are accomplished, and prolific, talkers. They are also famous "wrestlers"-always wrestling with issues, and wrestling with dilemmas, and wrestling-inevitably-with "conscience." And when they are done wrestling, it is almost always the Democratic party-whatever its needs-that has won. The other day, Wall Street Journal editor Robert L. Bartley remarked that Lieberman "will have to spend a long time recovering his piety." Maybe, maybe not. People's memories tend to be short, and politicians, in particular, have a way of gliding on. But Lieberman may indeed have to put a little effort into polishing his halo. Before he succeeds, let's "review the situation," as a song lyric has it. What is it about this man that has disgusted so many conservatives-and more than a few principled liberals too?

National Review was, so to speak, present at the creation. For many years, it had groaned under Connecticut senator Lowell Weicker, a Republican, but a particularly obnoxious foe of conservatives. When it came to his position in the GOP, Weicker would charmingly say, "I'll always be the turd in the punch bowl."

National Review, however, was determined to remove him. In 1988, when the senator was up for reelection, the magazine's founder, William F. Buckley Jr., and his family-longtime residents of Connecticut-had an idea: They would form "Buckleys for Lieberman." In due course, this became "BuckPac," a small but potent movement to unseat Weicker and replace him with the state's attorney general, Joe Lieberman. Bill Buckley straightforwardly proclaimed that Weicker was "the number-one horse's ass in the Senate"; Lieberman, in contrast, was someone a body could stomach.

That November, Lieberman topped Weicker by 10,000 votes-a landslide, perhaps, by the standards of 2000, but a squeaker in any normal year. Did BuckPac make a difference-even the difference? Some thought so, and not only the group's members. Lieberman himself hinted as much. As he was preparing to take the oath of office in January 1989, National Review expressed the hope-largely mirthful-that the senator, "on mature reflection," would switch parties.

In the Senate, Lieberman did indeed make an improvement over Weicker. Still, there were signs of the Lieberman we would see in full come 2000. Take the Clarence Thomas nomination. When the judge was first put forward, Lieberman had nothing but glowing things to say about him, praising, for example, his "strength of character, independence of mind, and intellect generally." But then came Anita Hill's accusations. Lieberman did not swallow them whole-or at all. No, he and his staff spoke with a host of other women who had worked with Thomas, and the senator was pleased to announce that "there had been universal support" for the judge, and "not even a hint of impropriety." Yet Lieberman in the end voted against Thomas-waiting until the last possible moment, when the much-abused judge had already received enough votes for confirmation.

So, what won conservative hearts? For one thing, Lieberman was stalwart on school choice, supporting vouchers that would allow poorer parents to send their children to private schools. He pushed for "pilot programs" all over the country. The senator was especially passionate about school choice in the District of Columbia, where it is sorely needed-and where it has been consistently denied by the Democratic party. In 1997, he said: "There are some who dismiss suggestions of school-choice programs and charter schools out of hand . . . The undeniable reality here is that this system is already in ruins. And to blindly reject new models and refuse to try new ideas is simply foolish. We can and must do better for these children. And to cling stubbornly to the failures of the past will just not get us there." George W. Bush could not have put it better-and, indeed, he didn't. But Lieberman would accuse Bush of "public-school abandonment"-just as hard-core educationists had accused him, Lieberman.