The iCongressman, page 7
part #2 of The Michael Bennit Series Series
She reflects on my comment for a moment, and I notice this woman is very hard to read. She is extremely intelligent and analytical, but she also doesn’t show an overt willingness to share her true feelings on a matter. As an old soldier, I have been taught not to trust reporters or politicians. Now I am dating a journalist and asking for help from a Washington insider. My world is completely upside down from where it was two years ago.
-TWELVE-
SENATOR VIANO
Most freshman politicians in the House are naïve fools. Since the House is the proving ground for Senate, I didn’t have much exposure to the laughable tommyrot these political rookies bring to the capital. As much as Michael Bennit falls into this category, I find myself liking him.
His back is up against a wall, and some very powerful people are yearning to crush him. Ironically, some of those people are the same ones who decided to end my political career. Bennit isn’t the type to go out quietly, and the fighting spirit he embodies makes him my kind of guy. Unbridled passion, and willingness to battle the elite in this town, is precisely what I’m looking for.
“There are a lot of merits to your plan, Michael. But remember, these people have war chests as big as Beaumont’s. In the modern age, politicians devote more time and energy to raising money to run for reelection than any other singular task.”
“True, but money doesn’t always buy wins. I spent nothing and still came within a hundred votes of beating Beaumont,” Michael offers. He’s right, but his campaign was unique and largely successful because of free mainstream media coverage. For those not blessed with such an organic level of curiosity, television commercials are the most effective way to reach the population. Networks know this, thus air time for commercials is sold at a premium.
To afford them, a candidate needs to be well financed. The result is that fundraising becomes the primary concern for any politician who ever worried about reelection. It was my Achilles’ heel, and maybe the reason I find Michael’s proposal so fascinating. But the other piece of his plan is intriguing.
“But you’re right, my colleagues do spend an insane amount of time fundraising,” he continues. “Because of that, there are few legislative statesmen and women. The number of people in the House who either care about or understand the complexity of national policy issues is non-existent. The result is what we have today—politics eclipsing policy as the default mindset of Congress. That’s our angle.”
“You’re planning on exploiting the incumbents’ love affair with ducking tough issues.” He nods. Conflict avoidance is a serious motivator for many in Congress, if for no other reason than it can be used against them in a campaign. No politician likes running on their record these days.
“Cards are on the table, Senator. What do you say? Will you help?” The mood of the country is the mystery ingredient in the election process. Right now, with the constant battles over program funding, the budget, and the debt ceiling, the mood of the nation is darker than it has been in a century. That could make the man in front of me the ultimate wild card.
A popular incumbent riding a wave of successes is harder to defeat than a controversial one like Michael Bennit who has accomplished very little. Despite his impotence, the parties are scared to death of this guy. Fear is at play here, and a powerful motivator among the rank and file on both sides of the aisle who must think they’re politically vulnerable because Bennit owns social media.
“Your plan is intriguing, Michael, and may even work. However, you are asking for an awful lot without offering much in return,” I say coyly. Not that it matters, because I made my decision long before this meeting. He is offering far more than he could ever understand. Maneuvering is always part of the political game, so I might as well uncover any other concessions he is willing to make.
“You’re right, I’m not,” he says plainly. “And that’s the way it’s going to stay, unfortunately. I can only offer you a chance to help reshape the political system and appeal to your sense of patriotism to take me up on it.”
“I understand. Let me think about it and I’ll get back to you.” We shake hands, and say our good-byes.
I leave the Archives and head out into the warm spring air, reaching for my cell phone in the process to make a call to my former chief of staff. After a few rings, the call gets sent to his voice mail.
“Gary, it’s me. If you’re still bored, I have a little something I’d like you to work on for me. Call me.”
I press the end button and then select another number from the presets in my phone. This call is far more important.
“We’re in,” is all I say when the call is picked up.
“Excellent,” is the terse reply the Southerner returns. I hang up because nothing more needs to be said, at least over a cell network.
I tuck the phone in my purse and take a deep breath.
“And so it begins.”
-THIRTEEN-
SPEAKER ALBRIGHT
“Nathan!” I bellow after reading the text message on my smartphone.
“Yeah, boss,” he replies, crossing the threshold into my office.
“What’s happening on the Floor?” I inquire with a sense of urgency. I don’t get panicked notes from the majority leader. I mean ever.
“Nothing that I know of. They’re in the Committee of the Whole to discuss the tax reform bill. Why?”
The Committee of the Whole House on the State of the Union, as it is referred to by its formal name, is a parliamentary device used to expedite the debate and amendment process for certain bills. It is less formal, involves fewer members to have a quorum, and prohibits many of the motions some representatives use to delay passage. The best part is, I get to appoint someone to serve as chairperson and don’t need to physically be in the chamber.
My phone vibrates again with another plea from Harvey and I rush past my chief of staff and out of my spacious Capitol office to get to the Floor. The first thing I notice is that the media is here in much larger numbers than usual. Something is not right.
The House mace, an ornamental object long part of the House’s lore, is still perched on the lower pedestal, indicating that the House hasn’t returned to regular session. It’s the official way an observer can understand that the body is assembled in a different form, since every representative who meets in the House chamber belongs to this particular committee. Ironically, it’s technically the only one Michael Bennit belongs to.
“About time you got up here,” Harvey says urgently, pulling me off to the side. “We’ve got a serious problem. Bennit offered an amendment to the tax bill.”
“Harv, he’s an elected lawmaker, whether we like it or not. He’s allowed to do that.” The Committee of the Whole can recommend amendments to any bill, subject to re-approval when the House returns to session before the amendments are added to the final bill. He hands me a sheet of paper prepared by a member of his staff, and my eyes grow big as I read.
“You’ve got to be kidding me with this, right?”
“It passed, Mister Speaker.”
“What?” I almost scream.
“You heard me. Look at all the media here. The chamber was full of moderates not about to vote no, so it passed. We’ll have to kill it on the Floor during normal business when we come out of the Whole.”
The Committee of the Whole may vote on these amendments but not on the final version of the bill. At the end of the debate, the bill’s floor manager makes a motion to report the legislation, which is happening now. The House then will return to regular session and vote on the bill and defeat this amendment, but that will be done very publically.
“Bennit,” I grumble, shaking my head after spotting him over near the side of the chamber. I storm over to him, and as much as I feel like berating him for all the world to hear, I would be out of order and scolded by the Chair. Not a good thing to happen to the Speaker of the House.
“What the hell is this, Mister Bennit?” I say by means of introduction, nodding to the hand holding the copy of the amendment Harvey gave me.
“It looks like an eight and a half by eleven inch sheet of copier paper. Brilliant white,” Michael Bennit retorts.
“No, I think it’s paper for a laser printer,” Francisco Reyes corrects. “You see the texture?” Now I know who orchestrated this little show in my House—the “icandidates.” Maybe there is something to Harvey’s concerns after all, and that’s the exact message being conveyed through the look he’s giving me.
“Oh, I think you may be right, Cisco. How did you know?”
“Connections, my friend. You see, I have this cousin who works at Staples and he―”
“If you two gentlemen are quite finished, it’s the absurd amendment you offered to our bill that … what’s this say again? ‘Suspend congressional and presidential pay, and dictate that the parties work around the clock for a solution to the issue in the event a continuing resolution to fund the government is not passed, resulting in a government shutdown,’” I read from the paper.
The continuing resolution is an appropriations bill Congress uses to fund government agencies if a formal budget has not been signed into law by the end of the fiscal year that runs from October through September. Since the Democrats won’t move on spending, I will not allow a vote on the bill since a majority of my caucus doesn’t support it.
“Yes, Mister Speaker, I believe that’s what it says. Cisco?”
“That’s my recollection of the amendment as well, Michael.” Oh, these guys think they’re so smart.
“This amendment has no chance to get passed when the House comes back to order. I will see to that.”
“Okay, then defeat it. Of course, the price tag is a little steep in terms of political embarrassment. I’m sure your caucus will be screaming at you for making them cast that vote,” the representative from Texas says.
“Or you can bury it using the Hastert Rule, just like every other bill you don’t want to see voted on. I’m sure Americans would just love the prospect of not getting tax relief because you’re too busy sparring with the Democrats.”
“You gentlemen are apparently not savvy enough to understand the politics involved,” Harvey says, coming to my defense. “Turning off the spigot of federal dollars is the only way to keep the Democrats from spending like gambling addicts and driving the country deeper into debt. Not that we should expect independents to understand how government works.”
Congressman Reyes takes the dig personally, and he looks like he might actually take a swing at my partner. A small crowd of representatives from both parties is starting to gather around us. Although our voices are being kept low enough to not disrupt the business of the Committee of the Whole, the North Carolinian I appointed as Chairman must be getting distracted.
“As per the Constitution, only Congress may appropriate the money needed to operate the federal government,” Reyes explains coolly, almost as if reading from a book. “Therefore, Congress is required to pass separate spending bills every year, and if no such law is signed, all functions of the government not exempted by the Antideficiency Act cease immediately. In order to prevent this interruption, Congress may pass a continuing resolution that authorizes funding of federal agencies at the current level until either the resolution expires, or an appropriations bill is passed.”
“I understand how government works, Mister Leader, as does my distinguished colleague here,” Michael Bennit points out to Harvey, almost sounding bored with his colleague’s verbatim piece of political prose. “The situation you described is not the workings of government, but of the two dominant political parties. If you guys want to play chicken with each other, that’s your prerogative. When you hang ordinary American citizens out to dry in the process, well, I have a big problem with that. If that means I had to attach an amendment onto an unrelated bill to get you guys to sit at a table, then damn it, that’s what I had to do.”
I can feel my blood pressure shoot up. Being in politics for as long as I have, I learned the necessity of controlling my temper and thinking rationally. Hot heads, like Winston Beaumont, whom Michael Bennit defeated, sooner or later make a mistake and pay a steep political price. Despite this, I’m trying to tamp down my emotion so I can speak.
“This isn’t over, Bennit,” Harvey says, beating me to the punch. “We won’t forget this.” The comment elicits a smile from both Michael and Francisco.
“We certainly hope you won’t,” Bennit says, walking away with his new buddy and exiting the chamber. Realizing there won’t be a headline-grabbing brawl today, the others gathered around us disperse.
“This is a huge problem, Johnston,” the majority leader observes. “If we vote down this amendment, we look callous, and if we don’t, we lose our wedge issue with the Democrats.”
“I know the stakes, Harvey.”
“Two censures and two reprimands haven’t forced him out of here, so the members are going to demand a plan.”
“There’s already one in the works. Now, let’s get back to it,” I say, ending the discussion as the House returns to order from being the Committee of the Whole. The first order of business will be undoing the damage Michael Bennit just inflicted, but that’s not my only concern.
Our confrontation on the floor is going to get some television exposure, and now it dawns on me that the whole episode could have been recorded by cell phone. I don’t understand what makes things go viral, but I do understand how unwanted videos can have embarrassing political ramifications. This whole stunt feels orchestrated to achieve that goal, making Bennit more dangerous than I thought.
Of course, there are enough embarrassing reprimands now to all but ensure a victory against him this fall. Bennit’s last words to Mister Stepanik weren’t meant as a personal slight. He issued a warning. With all the pressure we’ve exerted on him to resign before the election, I wonder if we’ve pushed too hard and took him off the leash by accident. As I accept the gavel to bring the House back into order, all I can think of is Yamamoto’s quote at Pearl Harbor: “I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant and fill him with a terrible resolve.”
-FOURTEEN-
MICHAEL
The average temperature in the middle of May for Millfield is right around seventy degrees, but today is not one of those days. With a cold front sneaking south out of Canada, it is barely cracking fifty-five, and feels much more like October than the end of spring. With that in mind, I skipped wearing shorts and opted for a T-shirt, light jacket, and jeans for this meeting.
Climbing out of my car and seeing the group gathered around the picnic table at Briar Point State Park brings back a flood of old memories. My campaign with this group of overachievers may have been run out of the Perkfect Buzz coffee shop, but it was hatched at the very table they are now sitting at. Is it possible that was over two years ago?
“It looks like we’re putting the band back together!” Vince announces as I reach the picnic table. The next few minutes are filled with warm embraces, man-hugs, fist bumps, and high fives. The hardest part of teaching is watching the kids you spent so much time in the classroom with grow up. Luckily, it’s also the most rewarding. I remember each of the young men and women in front of me when they were terrified freshman, and it’s wonderful seeing them full of confidence and optimism as college students.
When they graduated, this motley group of friends split and went their separate ways. Chelsea, Vanessa, and Vince decided to put off college and came to work for me in Washington. Brian, the resident computer geek, got accepted to MIT and is studying computer science. Peyton did end up as prom queen as we all predicted, and is now pursuing her dream of fashion marketing at Vassar. Amanda, the numbers wizard who ran our campaign finances both times without landing us in prison, chose to attend the University of Connecticut, and is dual majoring in accounting and business. Emilee is also a double major in education and, gulp, history at NYU. Xavier is playing basketball at Syracuse, and majoring in political science, the poor guy.
They may have chosen different paths after graduation, but they interact like they saw each other a week ago. Each may have new friends and unique experiences from the others, but they are all bound by the events of their senior year. Somehow, I think they will still all gravitate towards one another at a high school reunion forty years from now.
“Good to see you all survived your freshman years in college,” I say, remembering the trouble I used to get into at that age. “Any news I should know about?” They all look at each other to see who wants to go first.
“Brian has a girlfriend,” Amanda offers, putting him up first in the hot seat. Somewhat surprising considering, other than putting on a few pounds, he’s just as dorky as he was in high school.
“The inflatable kind or one that actually breathes?” I ask with a smile on my face. The group snickers, and we spend the next ten minutes getting caught up in everyone’s activities and funny experiences. Then it’s my turn.
“How’s Kylie?” Emilee asks, still petite and sporting short, brown hair, but a far cry from the shy girl that I remember from two years ago. She always liked the freelance reporter who covered our campaign, and felt the most betrayed after she wrote the articles I asked her to when it was over. Nobody was more thrilled we ended up together.
“She’s great, thanks for asking. She really wanted to be here to see you, but the Post has her on an assignment.”
“Have you proposed yet?”
“Not yet, Em.”
“Damn, Mister B, what are you waiting for?” Xavier pries. He appears a little more buff than I remember. Still lean and lanky like he was when he set all of Millfield’s varsity scoring records, he definitely has spent time in the gym.
“You know, if you like it you’d better put a ring on it,” Amanda says, playfully paraphrasing Beyoncé. And yes, I am thrilled that working with teenagers makes me hip enough to know that.
