AMERICAN.COM

Republican Governor of Florida Charlie Crist appointed his former chief of staff, George Lemieux, to fill the U.S. Senate vacancy caused by the resignation of Senator Mel Martinez. Lemieux is a place holder. He will not run for election for the seat in 2010. The leading candidate for the seat is Governor Crist himself.

The seat has taken several interesting turns. First, the news that Senator Martinez would not run again created an open seat (there are six Republican open Senate seat races and two Democratic ones in November of 2010), and it initially raised Democratic hopes for a takeover.

When Crist decided to run for the Senate seat, Republican prospects for keeping the seat increased dramatically. But there is another candidate on the Republican side: former speaker of the Florida House Marco Rubio, who is younger than Crist, more conservative, and of Cuban descent. Despite some conservative grumbling, most polls show Crist beating Rubio by a significant margin.

But Martinez surprised many with his early resignation. He could have served out his term and not sought re-election. Crist was then faced with a delicate choice of whom to appoint to serve out the remainder of the term. He was smart not to choose himself. Nine governors have had themselves appointed to Senate seats and stood for election, and eight of those nine lost. The only exception was Happy Chandler, governor of Kentucky and grandfather of current Representative Ben Chandler (Chandler appointed himself in 1939). And of the eight who lost, five lost in the primary. Clearly voters don’t like a governor who tries to give himself a leg up for a future election with an appointment. The issue arose again indirectly with Alaska Governor Frank Murkowski appointing his daughter to fill his own vacated Senate seat (she won, but nepotism was a significant campaign issue she had to overcome). And recent governors have learned the lessons of their predecessors: the last sitting governor who appointed himself to fill a Senate seat was Wendell Anderson (D-MN) in 1977 (he lost in the election of 1978).

The appointment of Lemieux is not the same as Crist appointing himself, but his appointment of someone so personally close to himself does point in that direction.

The likelihood is that Crist will win the primary and the general election, but he would have much preferred if Martinez had served out his term rather than forcing him to make an appointment that could damage his own election prospects.

After my post on the Obama administration and the Pauline Kael syndrome, I got a fair amount of reaction, including some online, expressing dismay that I could talk about the decision to prosecute interrogators in terms of its practical political effects, when it is an issue of such transcendent moral clarity that all discussion of it must be framed in terms of moral imperatives. I revealed, inadvertently, my ethical degradation to those who were not already aware of it.

To those who were dismayed, I’ve got worse news: I think it is permissible to talk about murder and rape in amoral terms. To talk about the Inquisition, the Holocaust, and the genocides in Armenia and Cambodia in amoral terms. In fact, it is obligatory to deal with the implications of just about anything in amoral terms, because all important issues have important non-moral implications that warrant inquiry.

What bothers me is the self-righteousness of it all. Consider three issues that many people see in absolute terms: the torture/interrogation issue, abortion, and capital punishment. Given what we know about socioeconomic and political fault lines on these issues, we can be sure that large numbers of people who take an absolute position on one of the three do not take an absolute position on the other two. How can they see the nuances in two out of the three, and still think that they happen to have fixed on the one that does not admit nuances?

In a sense, I can empathize. Child abuse is an issue that I cannot imagine discussing clinically—and I especially can’t imagine analyzing child abusers dispassionately. It’s just not possible for me. But it has to be done, I have colleagues who do it, and some part of me finds it easy to understand that they can look at the issue in amoral terms for certain purposes without being morally deficient. In fact, I am perplexed by otherwise smart people who do not find it easy to understand that.

I did learn something from the reaction, however. Those famous words of Pauline Kael, “How can Nixon have won? No one I knew voted for him” weren’t quite what she said. Prof. John Pitney at Claremont McKenna sent me the actual quote, from the New York Times of 28 December 1972: “I live in a rather special world. I only know one person who voted for Nixon. Where they are I don’t know. They’re outside my ken. But sometimes when I’m in a theater I can feel them.” Sort of the same thing, I know, but then I got another email from someone who wrote, “Pauline was a good friend, and was the farthest thing from a smug, unself-aware adherent of dumb liberal cant as you could imagine . . . She undoubtedly viewed Nixon as a sick puppy. But she was no insular, snobbish Margaret Dumont.” I take his assessment at face value, and will henceforth strike “Pauline Kael Syndrome” from my rhetorical arsenal.

One of my best memories is playing tennis with Ted Kennedy on the Senate tennis court, with Chris Dodd and Kennedy’s longtime aide and friend Nick Littlefield. Kennedy was a great trash talker, and kept up patter, and insults, throughout the match, including during points. Despite his bulk, he was quick and agile, a good athlete as were so many in his family. It was enormous fun, but also showed a side of Kennedy that was an important part of his persona, and of his incredible power to work with and sway his colleagues. He had a great sense of humor, an ability to poke fun at others and himself in ways that endeared. He was magnetic, truly larger than life. And he built bonds with all kinds of people, including many top-flight staffers who worked for him for decades, who stayed because of him when they could have made millions outside the Senate, and who contributed to his breadth and power. Kennedy was a mensch to his colleagues, whatever their political persuasion, and to many others, in small ways and large. He was a natural legislator and a genuine workhorse—even during the carousing years. He was a passionate ideologue, but did not hesitate to find a middle ground, to make concessions, to bring in ideological opposites, and to find that sweet spot in legislation that could bring broad bipartisan support. He was one of the handful of the most significant senators of the 20th century. There is no replacement.

Jonah Goldberg has posted his last at the Liberal Fascism blog. He deserves enormous credit for writing a courageous and important book, an immense best-seller in both hardcover and in paperback, topping the NY Times list—how many books that talk up Eric Voegelin‘s ideas at length can claim that? It’s a pity that today’s immanentizers of the eschaton tried to dismiss it without reading it.