Capitol or bust - Spiro Agnew's bust installed in the U.S. Capitol

National Review, June 26, 1995 by Matthew Scully

AFTER all the fuss about whether to install a bust of Spiro Agnew at the Capitol, I am pleased to report complete success. NATIONAL REVIEW took up Agnew's cause four years ago after learning that he, alone among Vice Presidents, had been excluded from the Capitol's pantheon, apparently the old Senate leadership's idea of a moral point.

Under the new leadership it has all been resolved satisfactorily: not only is there a bust, the thing stares right out at the main entrance to the Senate chamber (a reminder to Democrats of which party's in charge, and to Republicans of which magazine not to cross). At the ceremony, old friends and staffers talked of ``redemption.'' After 22 years, here was Agnew, back from the shadows. If that's a bit melodramatic, let's just say there was a feeling of reconciliation about the day. Majority Leader Bob Dole came to pay tribute, showing admirable indifference to how it might play in the media, as did seven or eight other senators including Daniel Patrick Moynihan, Mark Hatfield, Ted Stevens, and Fred Thompson. Also present were Pat Buchanan, Agnew's old speechwriter, and Ed and Tricia Nixon Cox. Dozens of old friends going back to Agnew's childhood were there, proud to see him have his day. A model of dignity, Agnew entered with Judy, his wife of 53 years. An honor guard marched in even as the Senate was in session -- affording me a priceless glimpse of Joe Biden craning his neck across the aisle with a ``What's-all-the-commotion-out there?!'' look on his face. At a reception afterward, NR's Bill Rusher offered some eloquent remarks, and people crowded around the honoree as in the days of ``Spiro Our Hero'' buttons and Agnew wristwatches. The tributes were spare enough, and thankfully free of moral hamming. ``In a tempestuous time he was a strong partisan voice,'' said Moynihan; he touched ``the pulse of Middle America'' as no other politician had. With a nice little twist for the Clinton people to ponder before criticizing his attendance, Dole added: ``During a time when many believed that patriotism and military service were something to ridicule, Ted Agnew -- a Bronze Star World War II veteran and the son of a Greek immigrant -- minced no words and left no doubt where he stood.'' In the weeks before the unveiling, the local pharisees in their columns reminded us, just in case anyone had forgotten, of the circumstances of Agnew's resignation. ``Why,'' asked one, ``honor this venal man who brought such disgrace to his office?'' If a bust is installed, suggested Richard Cohen of the Washington Post a little too cutely, ``the marbleized Agnew should be shown with his palm out.'' Mary McGrory -- captured forever by James Jackson Kilpatrick's description as ``the Madame Defarge'' of the Nixon years -- recalled Agnew as ``a divisive force at a bitter time until he was led away by that paragon of public service, Elliot Richardson.'' Since first meeting Agnew over the bust business a few years ago, I've come to like and admire him, so perhaps I'm not the best person to sort out what everyone at the ceremony politely called the ``controversial'' aspects of his tenure. Of one thing I am quite certain, however: Even if one were to assume the very worst about Agnew, still I'd rather stand with him than be in any way associated with these liberal louts, or for that matter with their ``paragons of public service.'' The idea seems to be that although Agnew lost the Vice Presidency in disgrace, got disbarred, lost his pension, has lived effectively in exile for 22 years, had his governor's portrait taken down and stored in a broom closet at the Maryland statehouse, that's not enough; let's stomp on him some more. 'VENALITY,'' in my book, is preferable to viciousness. One doubts that these same folks could muster as much hatred for Pol Pot. And probably the hatred arises more from Agnew's virtues than his faults. For conservatives, in any case, there's the matter of loyalty to consider. Not blind loyalty, just the decent regard for fallen comrades exemplified by Dole and Buchanan -- both of whom, if they were lesser men, might easily have sent old Ted a nice note and pleaded prior commitments. For his part, Agnew offered a restrained, almost apologetic thank-you in his remarks. ``I am not blind or deaf to the fact that there are critics who feel this is a ceremony that should not take place. I would remind these people that regardless of their personal view of me, this ceremony has less to do with Spiro Agnew than with the office conferred upon me.'' Both statute and tradition dictate that all Vice Presidents be accorded a bust; none should be excluded ``to suit the dogmas or passions of the moment.'' I would have advised a more aggressive speech -- but I'd have been wrong. It was just the right tone -- letting old things go, modest, dignified, grateful. It wasn't Spiro Agnew the rhetorical warrior we recall. But it did sound like the man described to me by an ex-staffer, one of many to show up. ``Doesn't deserve the honor?'' he said. ``Listen, let me tell you about Spiro Agnew. After all that happened to him that week, he got on the phone personally and called around to find jobs for each of us. If there's another person in this town who would do that -- think of other people on the worst day of his own life -- I haven't met him.''