Sen. Trent Lott, reeling from poor strategic handling of anunanticipated crisis, on Thursday afternoon sustained a potentiallymortal cut from George W. Bush. Lott's inner circle was stunned, notby the harsh criticism, but by what wasn't said. He didn't put a capon the feeding frenzy, failing to commend Lott for service to countryand party.
That was a conscious decision by President Bush. He was determinedto avoid a debate over whether Lott should resign as Senate leader.By saying nothing good about Lott, Bush was feeding the furor. Thepresident's aides are well-aware of this, but contend they can donothing about it. Consequently, Lott's leadership remains injeopardy.
This is a classic case of Republicans eating their own. Democratsgather around disgraced colleagues, most famously Bill Clinton, butalso Sen. Robert Byrd, the Senate's senior Democrat. Unlike Lott,Byrd used overtly racist language, but got away with it. It wastypically Republican that the president did not telephone his Senateleader until he had spoken to a predominantly black audience inPhiladelphia one week after Lott's infamous remarks. Jack Kemp,Lott's longtime political ally, assailed him without warning. Theseattacks seemed prompted by criticism of Lott rather than what Lottsaid.
After Bush's speech, a national GOP political operative said Lotthad one week to stop the bleeding. "Less than that," one of thesenator's aides told me. Once the president spoke, Lott decided tohold his Pascagoula, Miss., news conference Friday, in which hepleaded for "forbearance and forgiveness."
At first, prominent Republicans did not see Lott in serioustrouble with his declaration at Thurmond's 100th birthday celebrationthat the country would have been better off had he been electedpresident on the 1948 segregationist ticket. When Democratic attacksbegan, Lott was advised by Republican counselors the storm would soonblow over.
Lott did not see the peril because of what he really meant. WhileThurmond is a geriatric miracle, it has been a long time sinceanybody engaged him in serious political discussion. Typically,Thurmond would rave about the beauty of Lott's wife, Tricia, and Lottwould caution him not to "steal her."
Another set piece dialogue had Lott--tongue-in-cheek--wishing thatThurmond had been elected in 1948. The birthday party comments werepreviewed dozens of times by Lott in private encounters withThurmond. The birthday audience's applause suggests it saw Lott wasjust kidding the centenarian. Turning a private joke into a publicjoke, however, produced a train wreck.
The Congressional Black Caucus and the Rev. Jesse Jacksoninstantly seized on Lott's remarks to play the race card. ProminentDemocrats were slow on the pickup. Senate Democratic Leader ThomasDaschle talked to Lott Monday morning, Dec. 9, and said "I accept"Lott's explanation, adding: "There are a lot of times when he and Igo to the microphone and would like to say things we meant to saydifferently." That afternoon, a Black Caucus member who had workedwith Lott--Eleanor Holmes Norton, the District of Columbia delegate--said on MSNBC: "I've never seen any scintilla of racism in him."
That night on CNN, Jackson called Daschle "weak," and Daschle twodays later demanded "a fuller explanation and apology" from Lott.Further scrutiny of Lott yielded the unsurprising revelation that heopposed racial integration as an Ole Miss fraternity boy in 1962.That overlooks the Deep South's remarkable transformation. Whilenearly all white politicians were segregationists then, none is today--including Trent Lott.
Lott was late in recognizing the feeding frenzy. His incrementalresponses were insufficient, aggravated by phoning radio and TV showsinstead of going on camera.
Conservative activists and publications have demanded that Lottresign. It is now up to the Senate Republican Conference whether theBlack Caucus and the news media shall pick the Senate Republicanleader. George W. Bush is saying he has no dog in this fight.
No comments:
Post a Comment