Death of American Virtue - Ken Gormley [436]
There was still a shred of hope that a few fiercely independent Democrats might buck their party leadership. Senator Byrd, for instance, was still rumored to have moral qualms about voting to acquit Clinton, even following his motion to dismiss. After all, federal judge Walter L. Nixon of Mississippi had been impeached and convicted in 1989 on a charge very similar to that lodged against Clinton—making false statements to a grand jury. How did an institutional purist like Byrd ignore this precedent? In a desperate effort to shore up their numbers, the House managers turned up the heat on wavering Republican colleagues to vote yes on at least one article so that the managers were not embarrassed. The entire Republican caucus was calling in every chit available in search of a slim plurality. They were now “playing for history,” trying to “justify what they had done.”
ON the day of the vote—Friday, February 12—word swept through the chamber that Senator Arlen Specter of Pennsylvania, a Republican known for his moderate impulses, might invoke Scottish law and vote “not proven” rather than “not guilty.” Specter had sought advice in advance from Parliamentarian Robert Dove, who informed the senior senator that he could invoke language from whatever country he wished, but under the Senate rules, the clerk would be required to record the vote as “not guilty.” Specter was clearly miffed. He asked Dove, “Are you a lawyer?” Dove replied respectfully, “Yes, Senator. I attended Georgetown Law School.” With that, Specter swiveled and walked away, displeased that he had lost his cover.
Senator Lott now navigated through desks to the rear of the floor and collared Specter. “Arlie,” he pleaded, “what are you doing here?… ‘Guilty but not proven?’ What is that?” Specter replied that he had researched Scottish law and that this accurately reflected his position. Lott was livid; the numbers in his mental tabulator had just dropped by another digit.
As a last-ditch measure, there was yet another proposed censure resolution floating around, crafted by Democratic Senator Dianne Feinstein of California along with Republican Senator Bob Bennett of Utah. Suddenly, this measure seemed as if it might be the answer to every vacillating senator’s prayers. The language of the Feinstein resolution was tough and condemnatory, calling the conduct of President Clinton “shameless, reckless and indefensible.” It also made clear that Clinton “deliberately misled and deceived the American people and officials in all branches of the United States Government.” It even kept the door ajar by declaring that “William Jefferson Clinton remains subject to criminal and civil actions.”
The White House was aghast that the Feinstein resolution might pass. Clinton’s legal team felt, “We want an up or down verdict on the impeachment articles, and that’s it.” Now that the president had been “dragged through the mud,” there was no reason to permit a bipartisan resolution condemning Clinton to add to the indignity of the House impeachment vote. Republicans would try to weave this into American history books to further besmirch Clinton’s legacy.
Plenty of Democrats, however, stood to gain by latching on to this stiff censure resolution. It was now obvious that President Clinton would not be convicted. If the senators slapped Clinton with a tough-sounding censure measure, they could go home proclaiming that they took the high road and escape the wrath of their constituents in the next election cycle.
Plenty of Republicans, too, saw it as an attractive option. Even Henry Hyde, disillusioned and bitter after this exhausting fight, was prepared to give his