R emember when the increasingly pro-Iraq War Lieberman won — as an independent — his strange race against anti-war candidate Ned Lamont in November? We all envisioned him as the triumphant future linchpin of the Senate, since the election left Democrats in control of that chamber by only one vote.
After he won, newspapermen described him as the “key player” and the “Senate’s most influential member.” One reporter even likened him to Justice Anthony Kennedy, the crucial swing voter on the Supreme Court — a notion that brought a huge smile to Lieberman’s face.
How wrong these predictions were was brought home to me recently, during Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid’s all-night debate on the Defense Authorization Bill. The debate was intended to be a major trial for war supporters, testing their steadfastness.
And, as one of the most resolutely steadfast supporters of all, you might have thought Lieberman would be listened to on this occasion. But as he gave his Defense Authorization floor speech, at a prime viewing hour, only a handful of reporters stayed in the press gallery to watch him.
On the floor, the few senators present listened not to Lieberman but to House Reps. Maxine Waters, Barbara Lee and Lynn Woolsey, who were indulging in a bit of cross-chamber tourism. In the back of the chamber, a small group of senators crowded around the three women, who gabbed right through Lieberman’s address. OK, not many people listen to Senate speeches anymore. But insiders say Lieberman’s influence on Iraq is as diminished off the floor as on. “Absolutely zero,” one senior Democratic aide replied when I asked him how much effect Lieberman had on Republicans struggling with what to do on Iraq. “We just don’t pay that much attention to him,” explained an aide to a moderate Republican, almost apologetically.
Why hasn’t Lieberman turned out to be an influential voice on Iraq, as was predicted? First of all, he’s changed. As this term has progressed, he’s moved closer to George W. Bush in terms of Iraq policy, not further.
During his Senate campaign, he criticized the war’s operation — “we had a naïve vision that the Iraqis were going to embrace us and then go on and live happily ever after,” he said — and expressed interest in “bringing the troops home.”
Since being sworn in to his new term, he’s hardly said a word against any of our policies in Iraq, and he’s become increasingly fond of the phrase “America cannot lose this war” — which can’t be true. And he surprised Democrats when he gave a news conference the day of the all-night debate with Mitch McConnell, standing right behind him like his shadow. To watch Lieberman talk about Iraq today is like listening to a friend describe someone he loves and refuse to admit that person has any vices. It just can’t be right. You don’t trust the judgment of someone who sees other people, or enterprises, in such a Manichean way.
Meanwhile, as Lieberman becomes more hawkish, the rest of the Senate is turning dove: Republican Sens. Gordon Smith, Susan Collins, Olympia Snowe, George Voinovich, Norm Coleman and Pete Domenici have all broken in some way with Bush’s handling of the war.
Lieberman’s problem illustrates the keen challenges faced by a war supporter today: As other supporters begin to wonder whether they’re on the right track, it’s important to maintain some ties — and sympathy — with them, so you can remain a strong advocate.
A Lieberman who could recognize the terrible political and moral challenges in knowing how to approach the war might provide these waverers some comfort and help maintain support for the war. But the Lieberman that has emerged, one who becomes more and more stubborn as his colleagues falter, has not much to offer.
Examiner Columnist Eve Fairbanks is an assistant editor of The New Republic.
