One Democratic Senate staffer said that when a tragedy like this strikes, there are all the usual tributes–but in Wellstone’s case, they happen to be true. Wellstone was a genuinely nice guy, admired for his solid middle-American values, his lack of pretense and his willingness to stand up for what he believed whatever the political consequences. Nothing incensed him more than the suggestion that he needed “political cover” for anything. He voted as he damn well pleased and took the consequences.
Wellstone was a progressive in the best sense of the word. He wasn’t simply adhering to an old party line of leftover liberalism. He was interested in political power, because that’s how change is made. But he knew it wasn’t just a matter of satisfying this or that interest group or pleasing the unions. He was one of the only reliable voices of principled liberalism. He didn’t have to agonize about whether he would offend swing voters if he opposed President Bush’s tax cut, and he didn’t twist in the wind like some liberals over whether to support Bush’s war resolution because of the vote’s impact on future ambitions.
When his colleagues worried that Wellstone’s “no” vote on using military force against Iraq could hurt him in next month’s Senate race, Wellstone chafed with irritation. He would vote his conscience, and he believed the voters would reward him. Recent polls seemed to bear out that judgment. Even those who support Bush’s proposed action in Iraq liked the fact that Wellstone, who was short of stature, stood tall in the face of power.
He never intended to be in government for more than two terms and had run on a pledge to limit himself to 12 years in office. But with control of the Senate at stake, he couldn’t walk away. Some of his supporters felt betrayed by his decision to stay, but he made the case that leaving would be a betrayal of far greater magnitude. A former political-science professor, the electorate was his classroom. And like all memorable teachers, he projected himself into the lives of his students, and left them better for the experience.
Since it is so close to the election, Wellstone’s name in all likelihood will remain on the ballot in Minnesota. Wellstone was fighting a neck-and-neck battle against Republican Norm Coleman in a race that, had Wellstone lost, could have cost the Democrats their one-seat majority in the Senate. Ironically, the sympathy vote–and the difficulty Coleman will have in continuing to campaign against the legacy of a candidate killed so tragically–could ensure that the Democrats keep Wellstone’s seat.
If Wellstone’s name stays on the ballot and he is elected posthumously, Gov. Jesse Ventura, an Independent, would have to appoint a replacement to fill the seat until a special election is held two years from now. (A spokesman for Ventura told NEWSWEEK that the governor would not make any statement before he addresses a press conference scheduled for later today.) Another possibility is that the Democratic Party can put a new name on the ballot before Election Day. A similar situation arose in Missouri two years ago when Democratic candidate Mel Carnahan died in a plane crash shortly before the election. He won, and the governor appointed Jean Carnahan to her husband’s seat. Carnahan is now battling to keep that seat in a close election in Missouri.
These election-eve tragedies remind us of the risks that politicians take as they reach out to the voters. Sadly, Wellstone joins a lengthening list of lawmakers lost in small-plane crashes: Louisiana Rep. Hale Boggs, Pennsylvania Sen. John Heinz and Texas Sen. John Tower. Commentator Cokie Roberts, Boggs’s daughter, encouraged Carnahan to pick up where her husband left off in his political career, just as her mother, Rep. Lindy Boggs, had done a generation earlier.
Each loss carries its own special impact, personally and politically. Wellstone will be missed because of who he was as a person but also for what he represented. There are few people in public life who stand for something that makes voters proud to vote for them. The most eloquent and most respected voice in progressive politics today is gone.
