Meet the new boss: quietly, Senate Republicans have already chosen Mitch McConnell as their next leader—because Congress just isn't partisan enough

Washington Monthly, Oct, 2006 by Zachary Roth, Cliff Schecter

The campaign-finance fight also brought out McConnell's willingness--even eagerness--to absorb negative attention on behalf of colleagues. For all of his personal colorlessness, he appeared to relish his role as the bete noir of the reform movement. After the good government group Common Cause labeled him the "Darth Vader of campaign-finance reform" in 1997, he opened a press conference by declaring, with a hint of a smile, "Darth Vader has arrived." But the humor concealed a serious purpose. McConnell understood at the time that many GOP senators feared the end of soft money but were afraid of the negative publicity that opposing McCain's crusade would bring. By volunteering to play the bad cop--confident about his own re-election prospects as the most powerful political figure in an increasingly red state (see "Bluegrass Baron" p.27)--McConnell gained crucial support within the caucus. "There were a lot of his colleagues who supported the same goal he had, who were appreciative that somebody was out there doing it and they didn't have to," says a former Senate leadership aide.

McConnell has always contended that his position on campaign-finance reform derives from a belief in the importance of freedom of expression. Opponents of campaign-finance regulations argue that money is a form of speech, and banning or limiting it therefore contravenes the First Amendment. His claim to be standing on principle is supported by a history of voting--in defiance of his party leadership--against efforts to pass a constitutional amendment banning flag-burning, on similar grounds of free speech. But in 1999 he suggested a more partisan motive, telling The Washington Post, "Take away soft money and we wouldn't be in the majority in the House and the majority in the Senate, and couldn't win back the White House."

Whatever his motivation, McConnell's full-throated defense of the right of politicians to take unlimited amounts of money from corporations helped make him a popular man among Senate Republicans, and put him in a position to make his move into the top ranks of leadership. In the shakeup that saw Frist replace Lott as leader in January 2003, McConnell was elected whip. But he didn't stop there: Frist soon made clear that he planned to serve only two two-year terms. By early 2004, McConnell had begun his campaign for the top job, meeting discreetly with members, listening to their concerns, calling in his chits from the campaign-finance reform battle, and asking straight out for his colleagues' support. "He has systematically and methodically gone to every member. The only real purpose of that meeting is for him to make sure that he's got that vote," says Tripp Baird, a former aide to Sen. Mel Martinez (R-Fla.) during this period. "When we came to town, same thing. I mean he went to all of the freshmen. The first meeting with them was about this. He was real quick. He went in and secured the vote. Done."

In addition, over the last five election cycles, his Bluegrass Political Action Committee has contributed to at least 40 of his 54 current Senate GOP colleagues. In September 2004, the month when he emerged as the only viable contender for the leader's job, McConnell donated $250,000 from his campaign account to the NRSC, then the largest ever donation to the committee. (In return, he received a gold-plated trophy from NRSC chair George Allen.) By the end of the month, McConnell had used his PAC to donate more money to his colleagues than any other GOP senator except Frist. "Having a strong leadership PAC is very important in securing a leadership position, because senators remember that," says Brian Darling, the conservative Heritage Foundation's Senate liaison. "When they're in trouble out on the campaign trail, when a senator gives them money ... that is appreciated by senators."