Through a rare combination of hard work and personal grace, Sen. Edward Kennedy, D-Mass., earned his place in history as one of the Senate's most accomplished and revered members. He leaves behind a proud, powerful legacy.
But let's get one thing straight: Health care reform is not about Ted Kennedy. And the late senator's unfortunate absence from this summer's debate has had a minimal impact on whether his party achieves his longtime dream of comprehensive reform. Both parties are, however, working hard to make sure a very different storyline stays afloat. And in doing so, ironically, they're doing a disservice to both the issue of health care and the Senate lion who embraced the cause.
Close followers of this summer's health care saga may have noticed that, almost once a week, a lengthy article bemoaning Kennedy's absence from the health care debate found its way into one of the country's most prominent newspapers.
• Politico, Aug. 23: "Kennedy illness symbol in debate." (That followed Politico's Aug. 19 story: "Ted Kennedy absence felt by Democrats.")
• New York Times, July 17: "Kennedy's Voice Absent But Still Resonating In Talks on Health Bill."
• Boston Globe, July 11: "Kennedy's voice missed in health debate."
• Roll Call, July 6: "Lobbyists Feel Kennedy's Absence at Committee Helm."
The list goes on. And on. And it's not just journalists who were perpetuating the Kennedy story. Last weekend on ABC's "This Week," Sen. John McCain, R-Ariz., said Kennedy's absence had made a "huge, huge difference" in the health care debate. "No person in that institution is indispensable, but Ted Kennedy comes as close to being indispensable as any individual I've ever known in the Senate," he said.
McCain's words are a touching tribute. But are they an accurate take on today's political landscape? Given the red-meat tone of the GOP's rhetoric this summer, I can't imagine Republicans would have been so kind to Kennedy if he had been healthy and fully engaged in the health care battle. It's more likely that Kennedy, a fierce advocate of the so-called public option, would have fallen into his common caricature of big-government liberal, his name and likeness bandied about with President Obama and House Speaker Nancy Pelosi as emblematic of Democrats' "power grab" and push for a "trillion-dollar-plus government takeover" of the health care industry.
So why has the Kennedy story developed such strong legs? Because reporters are getting fed the string by operatives from both parties, who see it as a way to help score political points at a defining point in the campaign cycle.
For Republicans, it's a chance to humanize themselves at little cost. Worried that they'll ultimately be viewed as the party that blocked meaningful reform, they are using Kennedy as a convenient foil. If only he had been here, they say, Kennedy would have used his magic touch to reach a meaningful compromise, bringing us on board. That sounds awfully nice, but it's still hard to believe that Republicans, 47 percent of whom believe the Democratic bill includes "death panels," would somehow roll over and obey the man they publicly demonized for decades.
But Republicans aren't alone in this. For Democrats, the Kennedy storyline helps them create a fall guy, of sorts. If the public option fails, they'll say, it wasn't because they weren't well organized or didn't craft an effective message. It was because two of their mightiest warriors (Kennedy and, to a lesser extent, former Senate Majority Leader Tom Daschle, D-S.D.) never got the chance to fight.
Actually, Kennedy, Daschle and Obama weren't even on the same page on health care. Like other progressive Democrats, Kennedy strongly supported a public option, while Obama has consistently signaled he'd forgo that "sliver" of the plan if it appears likely to torpedo the overhaul bill. For his part, Daschle has been advocating nonprofit insurance cooperatives, a compromise that's more to the liking of his insurance industry clients at Alston & Bird.
For many in the Senate, of course, Kennedy's absence was not a political calculation, but a personal tragedy. "If Kennedy had been here, the first thing he would have done is pick up the phone and call people like me and say, 'Let's see what we can do,'" Sen. Orrin Hatch, R-Utah, told the Boston Globe for its July 11 article.
Less than two weeks later, Hatch withdrew from a bipartisan group of Senate negotiators working to draft a compromise bill. He soon became one of the harshest critics of Democratic reform efforts. If Kennedy had been here, would Hatch really be singing another tune?
Want to stay ahead of the curve? Sign up for National Journal’s AM & PM Must Reads. News and analysis to ensure you don’t miss a thing.
Join the Discussion