Grand Old Party poopers - Republicans in need of political courage

IN his weekly radio address in mid April President Clinton lamented that his anti-terrorism bill had been watered down and argued that "we need the real thing." When the bill was in conference, Democrats worked to add provisions to give it "some teeth." Rep. Charles Schumer (D., N.Y.), a liberal's liberal, complained that "there's a lot that should be in this bill that's not." Clinton FBI Director Louis Freeh, meanwhile, argued that a federal law-enforcement review commission provided for in the bill would have "a chilling effect on those charged with vigorously enforcing the law." What all these newly tough-on-crime Democrats were complaining about were provisions either deleted from the bill or added to it at the behest of Republicans like freshman Rep. Bob Barr (Ga.).

Barr helped torpedo the initial Clinton version of the bill last year, then in March stripped down further a compromise version he had worked out with House Judiciary Committee Chairman Henry Hyde. "The traditional forces of big government say, 'There's a problem, let government fix it,"' explains Barr. "And if it's law enforcement, traditionally Republicans said, 'Give law enforcement whatever it wants.' The process whereby this bill became law is recognition that there really are new forces at work in the Congress on behalf of the people." New, indeed. As Clinton touts his cops-on-the-street plan and talks tough on assault weapons, Republicans are in danger of losing their grip on the crime issue for the first time since 1968.

The Dole campaign is getting most of the blame for the GOP's current funk. But the Republican predicament has been a party-wide effort with roots far deeper than a stumbling presidential candidate. The GOP Congress has operated with a reckless disregard for its own political health. In cases like the anti-terrorism bill, it has succumbed to the misplaced enthusiasms of its well-intentioned and energetic freshman class. In others, like the balanced-budget fight, it has been seduced by its own airy triumphalism. And in still others, like affirmative action, it has been wary of offending polite opinion. "The Bush Administration in drag," is how one House member describes a GOP Congress so weakened it now cowers before the minimum wage.

Like the Bush Administration, the GOP Congress has allowed critical distinctions between itself and Bill Clinton to get blurred. Crime is one example. Another is taxes. Both Republicans and Democrats now endorse what Clinton calls "a modest tax cut." And, astoundingly, Clinton may have more credibility than the Republicans. "I can't tell you," says GOP pollster Kellyanne Fitzpatrick, "how many focus groups, when I ask, What do Republicans stand for? say, Higher taxes." A dramatic tax-cut proposal from the GOP, a la Christine Todd Whitman in 1993, would be just the thing to clear the fog -- but Republicans don't dare. Which is just one of many unhappy results of the GOP's year-long dance with the deficit.

It is impossible to overestimate the damage done by the GOP's fixation on the balanced budget, which came at the instigation not of Dole, but of House Speaker Newt Gingrich. The fight left Clinton looking both principled and reasonable, while shattering the GOP's credibility, a political dynamic that has been at work ever since. Dole Chief of Staff Sheila Burke recently tried to cheer up ameeting of long-faced Republican staffers by noting that Republicans have had a pretty good couple of weeks. In one sense they had: meaningful habeas-corpus reforms signed into law; that decade-old will-o'-the-wisp, the line-item veto, finally a reality; a new farm bill that is flawed but that nonetheless represents progress. The trouble is that none of this matters. The President is riding so high he can flip almost anything to his advantage.

TAKE welfare, a premier GOP issue. Republicans have two Clinton vetoes under their belt. But both date from the budget fight when no one was paying attention, and Clinton is touting all the reform waivers his Administration has granted states. Should Republicans send Clinton more veto bait? Maybe -- except any bill would inevitably get caught up in GOP in-fighting, and by the time Senate moderates are through with it could actually produce a presidential signature rather than a veto. What to do? "Here's what we lay out for ourselves," complains one Senate aide. "If we pass it and he signs it -- we lose. If we pass it and he vetoes it -- we didn't get anything done. And if we don't pass it, he can't veto it -- but we're do-nothing. So, therefore, we lay out a scenario where whatever we do and whatever he does -- we lose."

It was in this lose-lose atmosphere that Republicans -- convinced they can't beat Clinton on anything -- got rolled on the minimum wage. A foul-up on the part of Dole's floor manager made it possible for the Democrats to offer the amendment, and when eight Republicans voted to consider it Dole was trapped. It has become clear that while Senate Democrats are ready to play politics to the hilt -- 47 filibusters as of March, more than in either of the past two Congresses -- Dole's colleagues aren't prepared to do the same. Not only did a bloc defect on the minimum wage, five of them abandoned Dole on a crucial vote on Medical Savings Accounts (MSAs), including Slade Gorton (Wash.), whose vote seemed a product of personal pique. Meanwhile, not one Democrat voted for MSAs, even those who had previously endorsed the idea.