By HENRY J.HYDE
The beggar on horseback: How one congressman views his job
After serving 8 years in the Illinois House with 177 members, now as a member of the U.S. House, 435 members, he finds the differences are more profound than just size. Congressmen, unlike state legislators, are seldom on the floor during debate
EDITOR'S NOTE: Congressman Paul
Simon, Carbondale, a former lieutenant
governor and member of the General Assembly, now a freshman in
Washington, wrote of his impressions of
the national legislature in our August
magazine. Now Congressman Henry
Hyde, Chicago, also a former legislator
and first termer in the nation's capital,
describes his initial reactions. Simon is
a Democrat, Hyde a Republican. "A BILLION here and a billion
there . . . that can add up to real
money," was the late Senator Everett
Dirksen's classic statement on congressional spending. Dirkson's comment
underscores but one of several factors
that have evoked a sense of awe since I
first climbed the Capitol steps last
January to be sworn in as a freshman congressman. The massive white Capitol building is
impressive enough, as are the countless
federal buildings housing a teeming
bureaucracy. All these create an aura of
overwhelming size and impregnability
that has a sobering effect on the desire
of new congressmen to change the
world. Although I served an apprenticeship of eight years in the Illinois
House of Representatives, I was still
unprepared for the contrast between an
assembly of 177 House members and a
Congress of 435 members. The differences are more profound than just
the size of the two legislative bodies. In Springfield, most members are at
their desks when the House is in session and thus, as a captive audience,
they have no choice but to attend debate
and, occasionally, be influenced by it.
But congressmen are seldom "on the
floor" during debate. When the bells
ring in their offices they hurry together
for a quorum call or a vote. One reason
for this seeming indifference to debate
is that members have no desks on the congressional floor, only rows of unassigned seats. No real work can be done
on the floor. Constant attendance
means listening to the many verbalizers
and the too few orators, all speaking for
publication in the Congressional
Record (perhaps because of the
widespread myth among congressmen
that large numbers of people are concerned about and actually read the
Congressional Record). Mountains of reports to read Every congressman has a district
population of about half a million people. Increasingly, these citizens seek the
aid of their congressman, and whether
their problem is federal or not, an
answer or some sort of help has to be
provided. The time spent on constituent service consumes a large portion of the time of the congressman and
his staff. The old saying that a congressman is as good as his staff is verified in many ways each day. The staff members' skill at handling people and problems is remarkable. December 1975 / Illinois Issues / 369
In addition, committees will
sometimes meet while the House is in
session or a member may have important visitors in his office, constituents
who have traveled a long and expensive
way to see their congressman. In short,
there are myriad good reasons why he
cannot spend the afternoon on the floor.
The most time-consuming activity,
however, is the most indispensable: reading the mountains of reports and
analyses of legislation sent to members
every day. Besides these, there are
letters and visits from business and
labor leaders, local and state government officials, students and citizens
from every walk of life—the list is
literally endless of those who seek communication with congressmen and
whose messages are important and demand attention and often a response.
A politician 'must be smart enough to know the game and dumb enough to think what he's doing is important'
In Springfield, a legislator also must
assist the constituents with their "people problems." But state districts are
much smaller and each has three representatives and a state senator to share
the mail and the problems, so there is
really no comparison in the workload
between the two types of offices. The
smaller scale of operations on the state
level makes the state bureaucracy more
accessible and responsive—or so it
seems to me. In Washington the
departmental "runaround" has become
a fine art. Fiscal policy issues One such issue is fiscal policy.
Nowhere in the American political
world is the gulf between Republican
and Democratic philosophies more apparent than in the economic sphere.
Standard Republican doctrine proclaims that inflation, hence recession, is
caused by Congress spending far more
than it receives in taxes. This abhorrence of deficit spending is the root of
all our nation's evils, say Republican
spokesmen over and over again. "Not
so!" reply the florid orators of the majority Democrats, and they proceed to
place all our economic ills at the feet of
Arthur Burns and the Federal Reserve
Board's "tight money" policy. If only
we had a monetary policy that eased
credit restrictions and put more money into circulation we would soon be enjoying the fruits of the New Deal, the Fair
Deal and the Great Society (not to mention Camelot!) in abundance. When it
comes to spending tax dollars we
haven't got, this Congress with its expected $80 billion deficit was anticipated in 1789 by the English poet and
anti-rationalist William Blake, who
wrote, "The Road of Excess leads to the
Palace of Wisdom." Occasionally some economist will try
to make the point that our inflation / recession is the product of unwise fiscal
and monetary policy plus the
relationship between wages and productivity. But his voice is drowned by the
tumult and shouting of the ideologues
of both parties. The spectacle is at once
stimulating and frustrating. The issue of energy has consumed
more time, and to less avail, than any
other in Congress. However, even for
one as nontechnical as myself, there is
enormous interest in the many exotic
sources of energy now being hurriedly
funded by Congress. Solar energy is the
new panacea of the liberals, whose mistrust of nuclear energy and whose antipathy to petroleum ("big oil cartels,
obscene profits, environmental hazards,
etc.") and coal ("raping the land, etc.")
has made sun worshipers of them all. Foreign policy The wisdom of congressional interference in the Soviet Union's emigration policies is still a matter of sharp controversy as is Congress's actions
regarding Cyprus and the ending of the
American presence in South Vietnam.
That we in Congress are subject to shifting political winds in a far more
vulnerable way than is the White House
is a fact not often considered. The
weakening of the Presidency in foreign
policy has emboldened not only
Congress but organized labor as well.
The longshoremen's demand concerning the Soviet grain deal is not likely to
be an isolated occurrence. More and
more segments of society undoubtedly
will seek to "get in the act." Nevertheless, the resolution of these
issues is vital to the national welfare.
We and our children's children have a
stake in the survival of our country and,
for that matter, in the survival of
Western civilization. No mere word like
"detente" can gloss this over. What exactly are the costs of detente? What are
its consequences in a world grown more
restless and fragmented? Complex questions like these take much of the time
and energy of today's congressmen. Reform of Congress But this messianic mission has sputtered and fizzled and finally flopped.
The seniority system, that relic of the
dark ages, was the first totem to be attacked. Three powerful committee
chairmen were toppled, but this was
hardly a major victory, as no new precedent or principle was established. In
these ad hoc situations more was left
undone than was accomplished. My
own view is that the seniority system is
preferable to the brokering of committee chairmanships, a practice that
poisons the political process in
Springfield. The proclaimed goal of making
Congress more open was only partially
attained, and then only by the Republican House members who voted to
open up their conferences to the press
and public while the Democrats continued to meet in caucus behind closed
doors. In September the Democratic
caucus voted to open their meetings to
the public. Proxy voting in committee
was restored by the Democratic majority, 370 / Illinois Issues / December 1975
Freshman congressmen sometimes
feel the excitement of a spectator sitting in the grandstand at the Rose Bowl
game. The big difference is that we
can't just watch the game. Matters of
the highest importance must be studied, understood and finally voted upon.
Most issues have economic, technical,
political and even philosophic implications that the conscientious member
must grasp if he is to vote intelligently
and to be able to defend his vote when
the inevitable criticism surfaces.
Watergate provided the impetus for
Congress to declare itself not only a full
partner in the formulation of foreign
policy, but the senior partner. Authors
like Arthur Schlesinger, Jr., who previously had applauded gleefully at every
accretion of executive power from
Roosevelt through Johnson, suddenly
became aware of the specter of the
"Imperial Presidency." Now they write
endlessly of the need to strip the White
House of its heretofore unilateral power
in this sensitive area.
The 92 freshmen (75 Democrats and
17 embattled Republicans) all came to
the Hill with an eagerness to make the
94th Congress far better than its
predecessors. The close media coverage
of congressional action has only added
to the determination of the newcomers
to shake things up, to take giant steps
towards that brave new world we
promised our constituents if they would
send us to Washington. There is a sort
of spiritual refreshment in watching
those whose armor is still not dusty or
dented. It is exciting to listen to the
rhetoric of those lately arrived statesmen who are bursting with plans and
programs, which if implemented, will
elevate and deliver us!
hardly a contribution to reform. One of the more graphic examples of expediency over principle was the silence of the majority, including 75 freshman Democrats, while the 83-year-old chairman of the House Rules Committee personally blocked reconsideration of the Turkish aid question. As pointed out by columnist David S. Broder, "He used the oldest form of arbitrary power Congress has ever known—the refusal to call his committee into session." This action drew no censure from those reformers who would have salivated with outrage if an old-style Dixiecrat chairman had used this same tactic to prevent consideration of a civil rights bill. Oh reform, how fleeting and fragile thou art!
I have always been amused by the words of Eugene McCarthy, who, in a memorable display of sour grapes, said that a politician must be like a football coach. That is, he must be smart enough to know the game and dumb enough to think what he's doing is important. If anyone fails to perceive the importance of the substance of politics, he is insensitive indeed. The decisions that must be made on revenue and spending, the drawing of the elusive line again and again between liberty and order, the protection and enhancement of human dignity, is hardly unimportant work.
In his last novel, You Can't Go Home Again, Thomas Wolfe reminds us that human progress is never in a straight line. Rather, it is like a beggar on horseback reeling and lurching. But the important thing is not that the beggar is drunken or that the horse is reeling, but that he is on horseback and he is moving forward. It is the task of every politician, therefore, to take those reins and help guide the horse and his rider towards the justice and liberty we have been struggling 200 years to attain.
Every elected official knows well the occupational disabilities of public life. If your constituents don't question your integrity and motivation, the media will. Your pocketbook, contrary to public opinion, becomes thinner with each campaign, your family life is all but shattered and you become a total stranger to the concept of job security. In public esteem a politician is rated 19th out of 20 occupations, slightly above a used-car salesman. Why then, would a sensible person choose politics as a career? An obscure Massachusetts colonial politician named Andrew Oliver said it best:
Politics is the most hazardous of all professions. There is not another in which a man can hope to do so much good to his fellow creature. Neither is there any in which, by loss of nerve, he may do more widespread harm. Nor is there another in which he may so easily lose his own soul. Nor is there another in which positive and strict veracity is so difficult. But danger is the inseparable companion of honor. With all the temptations and degradation that beset it, politics is still the noblest career that any man can chose. |
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December 1975 / Illinois Issues / 371