Harry Reid...

harry's havin' to do some heavy lifting these days... so far, he's lookin' good...

Harry Reid's strategy: let the GOP punch itself out.
By Howard Fineman
Newsweek

April 18 issue - There's nothing fancy about Harry Reid, the Democratic leader in the Senate. Sartorially, he is a symphony in brown. He hails from a Nevada eye-blink called Searchlight, but isn't at ease in the spotlight. "I would just as soon never have a press conference," he says. An amateur boxer in his youth, the 65-year-old Reid's idea of a good time is to watch reruns of famous bouts on ESPN Classic. A favorite was on the other night: the 1955 epic between Archie Moore and Rocky Marciano. "Moore flattened Rocky early," Reid said. "Had him down, almost out. But by patience and sheer determination Marciano came back, round by round, and won. Both guys were cut and bloody when it was over."

As the Senate waits for the opening bell in one of the biggest legislative bouts of recent years—over the rules for confirming federal judges—there's mounting evidence that Reid could be the Rocky in this show. President George W. Bush started 2005 in triumph, with lofty poll numbers, sweeping goals, a tightened grip on both houses of Congress and a united Republican Party. Now those numbers are falling, his domestic programs are in trouble and the GOP is increasingly divided and wary of igniting an Armageddon-like confrontation with the Democrats over rules by which the Senate votes on presidential nominees for the federal bench. "Some of our guys are getting a little bit nervous," said a GOP strategist with close ties to Bush. "And with good reason."

Reid, with 37 years in politics, is prospering partly by doing what shrewd boxers do in the early rounds to survive: let the other guy overreach. Proudly unphilosophical, he thinks the Democratic Party needs no soul-searching. "I believe in simplicity," he says. "Health care, pensions, energy independence—that's my agenda." Meanwhile, he's glad to watch the president travel the country, attempting to sell his theory of Social Security personal savings accounts. "The more he talks about it, the less popular it gets," Reid says.

He also happily cedes the limelight to House Majority Leader Tom DeLay, who has upset some fellow Republicans with threats of vengeance against the federal judiciary in the aftermath of the Schiavo case. DeLay remains a hero to the GOP's pro-life right, arguing that judges are "out of control" and wantonly oblivious to moral appeals. But the distancing-from-DeLay roster now includes Bush, Vice President Dick Cheney and GOP Senate leader Bill Frist—all of whom have praised an independent judiciary.

While Reid himself is low-key, the allies he organizes throughout the city—polltakers, consultants, liberal lobbyists—are not. He has commissioned virtual "war rooms," which coordinate the use of focus-grouped attack language in ads and speeches on two main issues. The first was Social Security. Now comes the war of words over the Senate's hallowed "filibuster rule," which allows a minority of 41 members to use the privilege of talking endlessly to kill any legislative action—such as a judicial nomination they don't like. Reid's poll-tested line of attack: ending the filibuster rule would destroy the separation of powers envisioned by the Founding Fathers. It's not clear whether Frist has the support—or the nerve—to press for a vote on ending the rule. His own advisers are divided.

There is no such hesitancy in Reid's corner of the ring. He has all 44 Democrats with him, and is trying to lure defectors from the GOP with a coalition that includes some unlikely names, like the Gun Owners of America and the YWCA. If Republicans push a vote and prevail, he says, he'll shut down virtually all business in the Senate by other parliamentary means. He is aware of what happened to Republicans years ago when they did something similar to Bill Clinton over the budget—they made themselves look unpatriotic, and made Clinton look like a hero. "This is a different situation," he says. "There is much more at stake now. I don't want it to happen, but if it does, so be it," he shrugs. He didn't sound like he was spoiling for a fight—only like he expected to be the last man standing.

© 2005 Newsweek, Inc.

Submit To Propeller
Tweet