[Congressional Record Volume 145, Number 12 (Saturday, January 23, 1999)]
[Senate]
[Pages S957-S960]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                        LEADER'S LECTURE SERIES

 Mr. LOTT. Mr. President, in the past several months, through 
the Leader's Lecture Series, we have been honored to hear from some of 
America's most outstanding leaders. Speaking just down the hall in the 
stately Old Senate Chamber, these distinguished guests have shared 
recollections and observations of life in the Senate, in politics, in 
this great country. Their imparted wisdom allows us not only to add to 
the historical archive of this institution, but also to gain 
perspective on our own roles here. As sponsor of the series and a 
student of recent history, I am especially appreciative of their 
participation.
  At the conclusion of each Congress, the Senate will publish the 
collected addresses of these respected speakers and make them available 
to the public. But their words should be recorded prior to that time. 
For this reason, Mr. President, I now request that the presentations of 
our most recent lectures--former President George Bush, who was here 
Wednesday night, and Senator Robert Byrd of West Virginia, who spoke in 
the fall--be printed in the Record.
  The material follows:

 Remarks by U.S. Senator Robert C. Byrd: The Senate's Historic Role in 
                            Times of Crisis

       Clio being my favorite muse, let me begin this evening with 
     a look backward over the well traveled road of history. 
     History always turns our faces backward, and this is as it 
     should be, so that we might be better informed and prepared 
     to exercise wisdom in dealing with future events.
       ``To be ignorant of what happened before you were born,'' 
     admonished Cicero, ``is to remain always a child.''
       So, for a little while, as we meet together in this 
     hallowed place, let us turn our faces backward.
       Look about you. We meet tonight in the Senate Chamber. Not 
     the Chamber in which we do business each day, but the Old 
     Senate Chamber where our predecessors wrote the laws before 
     the Civil War. Here, in this room, Daniel Webster orated, 
     Henry Clay forged compromises, and John C. Calhoun stood on 
     principle. Here, Henry Foote of Mississippi pulled a pistol 
     on Thomas Benton of Missouri. Senator Benton ripped open his 
     coat, puffed out his chest, and shouted, ``Stand out of the 
     way and let the assassin fire!'' Here the eccentric Virginia 
     Senator John Randolph brought his hunting dogs into the 
     Chamber, and the dashing Texas Senator, Sam Houston, sat at 
     his desk whittling hearts for ladies in the gallery. Here, 
     seated at his desk in the back row, Massachusetts Senator 
     Charles Sumner was beaten violently over the head with a cane 
     wielded by Representative Preston Brooks of South Carolina, 
     who objected to Sumner's strongly abolitionist speeches and 
     the vituperation that he had heaped upon Brooks' uncle, 
     Senator Butler of South Carolina.
       The Senate first met here in 1810, but, because our British 
     cousins chose to set fire to the Capitol during the War of 
     1812, Congress was forced to move into the Patent Office 
     Building in downtown Washington, and later into a building 
     known as the Brick Capitol, located on the present site of 
     the Supreme Court Building. Hence, it was December 1819 
     before Senators were able to return to this restored and 
     elegant Chamber. They met here for 40 years, and it was 
     during that exhilarating period that the Senate 
     experienced its ``Golden Age.''
       Here, in this room, the Senate tried to deal with the 
     emotional and destructive issue of slavery by passing the 
     Missouri Compromise of 1820. That act drew a line across the 
     United States, and asserted that the peculiar institution of 
     slavery should remain to the south of the line and not spread 
     to the north. The Missouri Compromise also set the precedent 
     that for every slave state admitted to the Union, a free 
     state should be admitted as well, and vice versa. What this 
     meant in practical political terms, was that the North and 
     the South would be exactly equal in voting strength in the 
     Senate, and that any settlement of the explosive issue of 
     slavery would have to originate in the Senate. As a result, 
     the nation's most talented and ambitious legislators began to 
     leave the House of Representatives to take seats in the 
     Senate. Here, they fought to hold the Union together through 
     the omnibus compromise of 1850, only to overturn these 
     efforts by passing the fateful Kansas-Nebraska Act of 1854.
       The Senators moved out of this room in 1859, on the eve of 
     the Civil War. When they marched in procession from this 
     Chamber to the current Chamber, it marked the last time that 
     leaders of the North and South would march together. The next 
     year, the South seceded and Senators who had walked shoulder 
     to shoulder here became military officers and political 
     leaders of the Union and of the Confederacy.
       This old Chamber that they left behind is not just a 
     smaller version of the current Chamber. Here the center aisle 
     divides the two parties, but there are an equal number of 
     desks on either side, not because the two parties were evenly 
     divided but because there was not room to move desks back and 
     forth depending on the size of the majority, as we do today. 
     That meant that some members of the majority party had to sit 
     with members of the minority. It did not matter to them. The 
     two desks in the front row on the center aisle were not 
     reserved for the majority and minority leaders as they are 
     now, because there were no party floor leaders. No Senator 
     spoke for his party; every Senator spoke for himself. There 
     were recognized leaders among the Senators, but only 
     unofficially. Everyone knew, for example, that Henry Clay led 
     the Whigs, but he would never claim that honor. Clay 
     generally sat in the last row at the far end of the Chamber.
       The Senate left this Chamber because it outgrew the space. 
     When they first met here in 1810 there were 32 Senators. So 
     many states were added over the next four decades that when 
     they left in 1859, there were 64 Senators. Yet, while the 
     Senate had increased in size, it was essentially the same 
     institution that the Founders had created in the 
     Constitution. Today, another century and four decades later, 
     and having grown to 100 Senators, it is still essentially the 
     same institution. The actors have changed; the issues have 
     changed; but the Senate, which emerged from the Great 
     Compromise of July 16, 1787, remains the great forum of the 
     states.
       This is so, largely, because as a nation, we were fortunate 
     to have wise, cautious people draft and implement our 
     Constitution. They were pragmatists rather than idealists. 
     James Madison, particularly, had a shrewd view of human 
     nature. He did not believe in man's perfectability. 
     He assumed that those who achieved power would always try 
     to amass more power and that political factions would 
     always compete out of self-interest. In The Federalist 
     Papers, Madison reasoned that ``in framing a government 
     which is to be administered by men over men, the great 
     difficulty lies in this: You must first enable the 
     government to control the governed; and, in the next 
     place, oblige it to control itself.'' Madison and other 
     framers of the Constitution divided power so that no one 
     person or branch of government could gain complete power. 
     As Madison explained it: ``Ambition must be made to 
     counteract ambition.''
       However, ambition has not always counteracted ambition, as 
     we saw in the enactment by Congress of the line item veto in 
     1996. Just as the Roman Senate ceded its power over the purse 
     to the Roman dictators, Sulla and Caesar, and to the later 
     emperors, thus surrendering its power to check tyranny, so 
     did the American Congress, the Senate included. By passing 
     the Line Item Veto Act the Congress surrendered its control 
     over the purse, control which had been vested by the 
     Constitution in the legislative branch.
       This brings me to the first point that I would like to 
     leave with you this evening. It is this: the legislative 
     branch must be eternally vigilant over the powers and 
     authorities vested in it by the Constitution. This is vitally 
     important to the security of our constitutional system of 
     checks and balances and separation of powers. George 
     Washington, in his Farewell Address of September 17, 1796, 
     emphasized the importance of such vigilance:
       ``It is important likewise, that the habits of thinking in 
     a free country should inspire caution in those intrusted with 
     its administration to confine themselves within their 
     respective constitutional spheres, avoiding in the exercise 
     of the powers of one department, to encroach upon another. 
     The spirit of encroachment tends to consolidate the powers of 
     all the departments in one, and thus to create, whatever the 
     form of government, a real despotism. . . . The necessity of 
     reciprocal checks in the exercise of political power, by 
     dividing and distributing it into different depositories, and 
     constituting each the guardian of the public weal against 
     invasions of the others, has been evinced by experiments 
     ancient and modern. . . . To preserve them must be as 
     necessary as to institute them.''
       Each Member of this body must be ever mindful of the 
     fundamental duty to uphold the institutional prerogatives of 
     the Senate if we are to preserve the vital balance which 
     Washington so eloquently endorsed.
       During my 46 years in Congress, and particularly in more 
     recent years, I have seen an inclination on the part of many 
     legislators in both parties to regard a chief executive in a 
     role more elevated than the framers of the Constitution 
     intended. We, as legislators, have a responsibility to work 
     with the chief executive, but it is intended to be a two-way 
     street. The Framers did not envision the office of President 
     as having the attributes of royalty. We must recognize the 
     heavy burden that any President bears, and wherever and 
     whenever we can, we must cooperate with the chief executive 
     in the interest of all the people. But let us keep in mind 
     Madison's admonition: ``Ambition must be made to counteract 
     ambition.''
       As Majority Leader in the Senate during the Carter years, I 
     worked hard to help President Carter to enact his programs. 
     But I publicly stated that I was not the ``President's man''; 
     I was a Senate man. For example, in July 1977, I opposed 
     President Carter's plan to sell the AWACS (Airborne Warning 
     and Control System) to Iran. Iran was then a military ally of 
     the United States, but I was troubled over the potential 
     security risks involved and the possibility of compromising

[[Page S958]]

     highly sophisticated technology in that volatile region. I 
     was concerned that the sale ran contrary to our national 
     interests in maintaining a stable military balance and 
     limited arms proliferation in the Middle East. Both Houses of 
     Congress had to vote disapproval resolutions to stop the 
     sale. I enlisted the support of the Republican Minority 
     Leader, Howard Baker. Senator Baker was someone who could 
     rise above political party when he believed that the national 
     interests required it, just as he did during the Panama Canal 
     debate. The Carter Administration chose to withdraw the sale 
     of AWACS temporarily. Shortly afterwards, the Iranian 
     Revolution occurred and the Shah was deposed. Had the sale 
     gone through as planned, those sophisticated aircraft would 
     have fallen into the hands of an unfriendly government. As so 
     often has happened in our history, individual courage and 
     character again charted our course.
       This brings me to my second point. On the great issues, the 
     Senate has always been blessed with Senators who were able to 
     rise above party, and consider first and foremost the 
     national interest. There are worthy examples in Senate 
     history.
       When I came to the Senate in 1959, artists were at work 
     painting five porthole portraits in the Senate reception 
     room. The Senate had appointed a special Committee chaired by 
     Senator John F. Kennedy to select the five most significant 
     Senators in Senate history. This was no easy task, because 
     there were many potential candidates. In setting the 
     criteria, the Committee looked to Senators who had stood firm 
     for principle, who had not blown with the prevailing 
     political winds, and who had made personal sacrifices for the 
     national good. They were not saints or perfect men. Daniel 
     Webster's personal financial dealings left an eternal blot on 
     his record; yet, he deserved to have his portrait in the 
     Senate reception room, not simply as a great orator but as a 
     man who sacrificed his own political standing by endorsing 
     the compromise of 1850, which was deeply unpopular in his 
     home state of Massachusetts, but which he realized was the 
     best chance to hold the Union together.
       In my almost 46 years in Congress, I have seen other 
     courageous Senators. I have already referred to the courage 
     demonstrated by former Senator Howard Baker during the Panama 
     Canal debates. Without Senator Baker's support, the Panama 
     Canal Treaties would never have been approved by the Senate. 
     The killing of American servicemen in Panama would have gone 
     on, but Senator Baker threw his shoulder behind the wheel and 
     helped to construct what he and I referred to as leadership 
     amendments, amendments which protected U.S. interests in that 
     region, and we both worked shoulder to shoulder against great 
     odds, as indicated by the polls. We did so because we 
     believed, after careful study, that the Treaties were in the 
     best interests of the United States.
       Howard Baker knew what Mike Mansfield and all students of 
     the Senate's institutional role  know. Political 
     polarization--too much emphasis on which side of the aisle 
     one sits, is not now, and has never been, a good thing for 
     the Senate. I am talking about politics when it becomes 
     gamesmanship or when it becomes mean-spirited or when it 
     becomes overly manipulative, simply to gain advantage. I 
     am not talking about honestly held views or differing 
     philosophical positions. Those things enrich our system. 
     Americans have always loved a good debate. And that is 
     what I believe they wish for now--more substantive and 
     stimulating debate and less pure politics and imagery. But 
     I well understand history and its ebb and flow, and I well 
     know that we live in an age of imagery. It is simply my 
     wish that, sometime soon, the rising tide of imagery and 
     partisanship will begin to ebb rather than to flow quite 
     so freely.
       Washington, in his farewell address, warned us against the 
     ``baneful effects of the spirit of party'' when he said:
       ``. . . in governments purely elective, it is a spirit not 
     to be encouraged. From their natural tendency, it is certain 
     there will always be enough of that spirit for every salutary 
     purpose. And there being constant danger of excess, the 
     effort ought to be, by force of public opinion, to mitigate 
     and assuage it. A fire not to be quenched, it demands a 
     uniform vigilance to prevent its bursting into a flame, lest 
     instead of warming, it should consume.''
       I believe that the American people are more than tired of 
     partisan warfare. I believe they wish for less of it from the 
     Congress, especially in the Senate, where more statesmanship 
     and a longer view are still expected. Declining participation 
     in elections, and repeated public surveys which indicate 
     weariness, distrust, and alienation within our system ought 
     to serve as a harbinger to be ignored at our peril.
       It must be a matter of concern to all of us that all too 
     few Americans look to officeholders for inspiration in these 
     troubled and turbulent times. How can we attract the talent 
     needed to serve in public office in future years if elected 
     officials continue to be held in such low esteem? I would 
     very much like to see a rekindling of basic faith in our 
     leaders, and a renewal of interest in politics and in public 
     service. But the existence of inspiring leadership by public 
     officials is fundamental to a shoring up of that faith.
       In short, I think the American people are in desperate need 
     of some old-fashioned heroes. Now, it seems, today's heroes, 
     if we want to loosely use the term, are merely celebrities--
     rock stars who spout deplorable messages, or sports figures 
     who amass fortunes advertising baggy clothes at exorbitant 
     prices. Not much to look up to here, I say. Not much to build 
     dreams on. Look hard at the content of our popular culture. 
     There is really nothing much to inspire and uplift. And 
     regrettably there also is not much to counter the empty 
     commercialism which is so prevalent today. It has become the 
     norm.
       So where are we in all of this? What is our role? What part 
     can we as Senators--authority figures, statesmen representing 
     the people--play while we simultaneously endeavor to carry 
     out our 200-year-old mandate, bequeathed to us by some of the 
     most brilliant men of their age, or of  any age before or 
     since?
       Well, we have our prescribed and our tangential duties, we 
     can show up for roll call votes, carry out our committee 
     assignments, issue the obligatory press releases, dutifully 
     follow up on constituent requests, and answer our mail. All 
     of these are necessary and to a greater or lesser degree 
     important. But a reemphasis by the Senate on our strict 
     institutional role is certainly something which I would like 
     to see. It is a sobering and heavy responsibility all by 
     itself, and its very weightiness tends to cool the over-
     heated passions of political demagoguery. After all, that 
     role is, in a Constitutional sense, the reason we are here. 
     The Framers expected a zealous defense of our powers to keep 
     the tyrants at bay.
       But there is still another role--an intangible something--
     that we who are privileged to sit in this body, and indeed 
     leaders in the private sector, as well as those who write and 
     reflect upon the news, are called upon to play. I call it the 
     duty beyond our duties. The duty I am talking about is the 
     duty to endeavor to inspire others and to demonstrate, 
     through personal example, that public service of all types 
     ought to be an honorable calling. Contrary to what many 
     believe, it is absolutely the wrong place for the slick and 
     the insincere.
       Serving the public in a leadership role demands honesty, 
     hard work, sacrifice, and dedication from those who dare to 
     ask the people for such an awesome trust. Those who ask to 
     shoulder that mantle also shoulder a much larger personal 
     obligation than many of us may regularly contemplate. We all 
     have a clear responsibility to serve as role models to 
     inspire our people, and particularly our young people, to be 
     and to do their best. On that score, we politicians, as a 
     group, generally miss the mark. Perhaps it's because power, 
     whether it be the power of political office, or the power to 
     run giant corporations, or the power to report and analyze 
     events, is a very heady thing. It can lead to arrogance, self 
     aggrandizement, disregard for playing by the rules, and 
     contempt for the people. It can lead us to forget that we are 
     servants, not masters.
       In the real world, exemplary personal conduct can sometimes 
     achieve much more than any political agenda. Comity, 
     courtesy, charitable treatment of even our political 
     opposites, combined with a concerted effort to not just 
     occupy our offices, but to bring honor to them, will do more 
     to inspire our people and restore their faith in us, their 
     leaders, than millions of dollars of 30-second spots or 
     glitzy puff-pieces concocted by spin meisters.
       These are troubling times for our nation and our people on 
     both the national and international fronts. For our country 
     to weather the rough seas ahead, we must use most tempered 
     judgments and seek out our best and most noble instincts. Our 
     example here can be a healing element--a balm to salve the 
     trauma of distrust and disillusionment too long endured by a 
     good people. Let each of us follow his or her own conscience 
     when it comes to issues, but as we do so, may we be ever 
     mindful of the sublimely uplifting part which the example of 
     simple dignity, decency, decorum, and dedication to duty can 
     play in the life of a nation.
       Let us also remember that even after two hundred years, the 
     Senate is still the anchor of the Republic, the morning and 
     evening star in the American constitutional constellation. It 
     has had its giants and its little men, its Websters and its 
     Bilbos, its Calhouns and its McCarthys. It has been the stage 
     of high drama, of comedy and of tragedy, and its players have 
     been the great and the near great, those who think they are 
     great, and those who will never be great. It has weathered 
     the storms of adversity, withstood the barbs of cynics and 
     the attacks of critics, and provided stability and strength 
     to the nation during periods of civil strife and uncertainty, 
     panics and depressions. In war and in peace, it has been the 
     sure refuge and protector of the rights of the states and of 
     a political minority because great and courageous Senators 
     have always been there to stay the course and keep the faith. 
     As long as we are ever blessed in this august body with those 
     who hear the clear tones of the bell of duty, the Senate will 
     continue to stand--the great forum of constitutional American 
     liberty!
                                  ____


                    Remarks by President George Bush

       Senator Lott, Senator Daschle, Senators Thurmond and Byrd, 
     distinguished guests, ladies and gentlemen:
       What a special pleasure it is to look around this room and 
     see so many respected former colleagues--and friends. As a 
     former member of the extended Senate family, tonight has a 
     certain homecoming feel to it. It's nice to be back.
       It is particularly an honor to follow in the footsteps of 
     the distinguished leaders who

[[Page S959]]

     preceded me as lecturers for this series. Mike Mansfield, 
     Howard Baker, and Robert Byrd are true giants in the Senate's 
     history--each, in his own way, ``a Senator's Senator.'' In 
     this room, it doesn't get any better than that.
       It being apparent that a quorum is present, I feel it only 
     proper to establish a single ground rule. I am ill suited to 
     ``lecture'' anyone here about the Senate. As the resident 
     expert on ancient Greek history, not to mention the Senate 
     itself, Senator Byrd can tell you what happened to Socrates. 
     Socrates was the great philosopher who used to go around 
     lecturing everybody . . . until they poisoned him.
       So to be clear, this is not a lecture. Nor is it a 
     filibuster.
       Speaking of filibusters, Barbara is sorry she couldn't be 
     here this evening.
       Yesterday, we were in Austin to see our son, George W., 
     sworn in for his second term as Texas Governor. And two weeks 
     ago, we were in Tallahassee to see our other politically-
     active son, Jeb, sworn in as Governor of Florida.
       Today, the boys are sworn in . . . and their parents are 
     worn out.
       (My politics today relate to our two sons. I think this is 
     my first visit to the Senate since leaving Washington on 
     January 20, 1993--six years ago today.)
       Of course, 18 years ago today, Barbara and I were 
     participating in another inauguration--one that brought us 
     back to Washington, and back to Capitol Hill.
       It's funny, I ran for the Senate twice--both times with a 
     spectacular lack of success. But for eight years, and then 
     four more after that, all the Senators called me ``Mr. 
     President.''
       When I reported to the Senate in 1981, without a doubt the 
     biggest influence made on me in terms of the Senate came from 
     my father's 11 years of service here. My Dad loved the 
     Senate. He had come out of a business background, and had 
     done his civic duty serving as Town Moderator of Greenwich, 
     Connecticut.
       He respected his fellow Senators. He found the Senate a 
     civil place to be. The term ``gentleman,'' he felt, applied 
     far more often than not--just as term ``gentle lady'' applied 
     to Margaret Chase Smith of Maine and other distinguished 
     women who have called the Senate home.
       My Dad and LBJ could be cross-threaded, as we say in the 
     oil business, often disagreeing on issues. But on more than 
     one occasion he told me he respected LBJ's leadership. I'll 
     never forget it. He said: ``Lyndon's word was good. If he 
     said a vote would be at a certain time, you could bet your 
     bottom dollar that that was what would happen.'' Dad felt 
     that LBJ as leader was fair to the minority and ran a tight 
     ship.
       Like my Dad, my predecessor in the Vice Presidency and the 
     White House, Harry Truman, loved the Senate. Truman called 
     the 10 years he spent here in the Senate the ``happiest of 
     his life''--and I have to say I enjoyed my eight years here, 
     too.
       In letters written to his beloved wife, Bess, then-Senator 
     Truman confided it took a while to learn the ropes. Along the 
     way, one valuable piece of advice he received came from Ham 
     Lewis of Illinois, the second-longest serving Democratic 
     Whip. Said Lewis to the Missouri freshman: ``For the first 
     six months you'll wonder how you got here. After that, you'll 
     wonder how the rest of us got here.''
       Later, Truman would write: ``I soon found that, among my 95 
     colleagues, the real business of the Senate was carried on by 
     unassuming and conscientious men--not by those who managed to 
     get the most publicity.'' Clearly, this was before the days 
     of C-SPAN.
       As for me, I loved interacting with Senators from both 
     parties. Of course, it was easier for me, better, as Vice 
     President. For one thing, with Howard Baker at the helm, my 
     Party controlled the Senate for my first six years here--that 
     helped. But after I moved down the street to the White House, 
     my dealings with the Senate seemed to involve more raw 
     politics.
       As President of the Senate, the primary constitutional role 
     I served was breaking tie votes. I cast seven tie-breaking 
     votes as VP--three times alone on the esoteric matter of 
     nerve gas. (Most unpopular, those tie-breakers were.)
       A myth arose from one of those votes that my mother bawled 
     me out. Well, she didn't quite do that. She did give advice, 
     however. After attending my first  State of the Union speech 
     as Vice President, for example, Mother called to say she 
     had noticed that I was talking to Tip O'Neill while 
     President Reagan was addressing the country. ``He started 
     it,'' was all I could think to say.
       ``Another thing,'' she continued. ``You should try smiling 
     more.''
       ``But Mum, the President was talking about nuclear 
     annihilation.''
       Everyone belittles the job of Vice President. The saying 
     goes that the daily duties of the Vice President include 
     presiding over the Senate and checking the health of the 
     President. Theodore Roosevelt derided it as a ``stepping 
     stone to oblivion.'' FDR's first VP, ``Cactus'' Jack Garner, 
     said the vice presidency ``wasn't worth a warm pitcher of 
     spit''--lovely thought, that.
       (Historian Arthur Schlesinger, Jr. went so far as to 
     suggest abolishing the office altogether, but then old Sam 
     Rayburn would be quick to note that Arthur had ``never run 
     for sheriff'' himself.)
       When asked his thoughts on the Vice Presidency, LBJ, who 
     was Majority Leader at the time, said: ``I wouldn't want to 
     trade a vote for a gavel, and I certainly wouldn't want to 
     trade the active position of leadership of the greatest 
     deliberative body in the world for the part-time job of 
     presiding.''
       In fact, LBJ wielded so much power as Majority Leader that, 
     when John Kennedy introduced him at a 1959 Boston dinner, he 
     observed that: ``Some people say our speaker might be 
     President in 1960, but, frankly, I don't see why he should 
     take the demotion.''
       A year later, Kennedy became only the second Senator to be 
     elected President directly from the Senate--and as we now 
     know, LBJ traded his vote for the gavel. Explaining his 
     acquiescence to accepting the Number Two spot on the ticket, 
     he said: ``I felt that it offered opportunities that I had 
     really never had before in either . . . the House or the 
     Senate.''
       The truth is: Many pundits and press people ridicule the 
     Vice Presidency to this day, but most Members of Congress 
     would readily take the job. As Presidents delegate more 
     responsibilities to their VPs, the job has become more 
     productive. And, TR's critique notwithstanding, it has proven 
     to be a fairly good stepping stone to the Presidency--or at 
     least the Party nomination.
       Just as LBJ became a revered role model for students of the 
     Senate, I also learned from his example when I became 
     President.
       In his memoirs, LBJ stated he was ``determined, from the 
     time I became President, to seek the fullest support of 
     Congress for any major action that I took.'' I shared his 
     desire to achieve consensus where possible.
       When I raised my right hand and took the Oath of Office 10 
     years ago today, I meant it when I held out my hand and 
     pledged to work with the leadership here  on Capitol Hill. 
     And despite the ugliness that erupted early on over the 
     Tower nomination--and later over the nomination of Justice 
     Thomas--I was generally pleased with much of what we 
     accomplished during the first two years. Both the Clean 
     Air Acts and the ADA were landmark pieces of legislation 
     that became a reality only after the White House and the 
     Senate demonstrated bipartisanship and compromise.
       Of course, every so often, an issue would trigger the 
     tensions built into Mr. Madison's system of checks and 
     balance. When it did, progress necessarily became more 
     difficult to achieve. The irony is: Many observers would look 
     at this so-called ``gridlock'' and think the system was 
     broken--when it was actually performing its ``salutary check 
     on the government,'' just as the Framers intended.
       Then came the Fall of 1990, when two major issues came to 
     the fore: The budget, and the Gulf crisis. From the 
     beginning, I wanted bipartisanship on both issues--and 
     consensus. But I soon found out that consensus, on either 
     matter, would not be easy to achieve.
       For example, there was a fundamental difference of opinion 
     between the Senate and the White House over the Senate's role 
     in declaring war--one that dated back to the War Powers Act. 
     Like all of my predecessors, I believe the War Powers Act to 
     be unconstitutional; but as President, I still felt an 
     obligation to consult fully with the Senate. In my mind, not 
     agreeing with the War Powers Act did not mean ``failure to 
     consult.''
       And during the course of the Gulf crisis, I consulted with 
     the Congressional leadership and bipartisan groups on more 
     than 20 occasions--not including individual meetings and 
     phone calls. I always remembered how LBJ had gone the extra 
     mile to work with Congress at the time of the Gulf of Tonkin 
     Resolution in 1964. As he candidly confided that August 4th, 
     during a meeting with nine Senators (led by Mike Mansfield) 
     and seven House leaders in the Cabinet Room, he said he 
     didn't want to ``go in unless Congress goes in with me.'' The 
     resolution subsequently passed the House unanimously--416 to 
     none. In the Senate, the tally was 88 to 2 in favor.
       (Incidentally, LBJ thought Truman had made a mistake not 
     asking for a resolution of support from Congress when he went 
     into Korea. It wasn't until the Formosa Straits crisis 
     erupted early in 1955 that a President would reach out to 
     Congress in such a fashion. On January 24, 1955, the House 
     took but an hour to consider President Eisenhower's message 
     requesting a resolution before it passed 410 to 3. Four days 
     later, the Senate followed suit by an 83 to 3 margin.)
       If I had to pick one vote, I'd say the Senate vote in 
     January 1991 on the resolution authorizing me to use ``any 
     means necessary'' in order to liberate Kuwait was the key 
     Senate vote during my Presidency. To be honest, for weeks we 
     debated whether to try and pass such a resolution in the 
     Senate. I'm glad we did  bring it here, and pleased that it 
     passed. But the 52-47 margin was the slimmest Senate 
     margin ever to vote for war, and naturally I regret that 
     we couldn't convince more in the Majority to help us send 
     a clear and united signal to Saddam, and the world, about 
     our resolve to lead.
       Before the resolution passed, my respected friend, Sen. 
     Inouye came to me and warned that ``if things go wrong (on 
     the use of force), you could well be impeached.'' I'll never 
     forget that. As it was, several House members had already 
     filed papers of impeachment.
       But we stayed the course, and I hope history will say not 
     only that we won--but that we won with honor. And when our 
     troops came home, this time they were welcomed with cheers--
     not jeers. It was a united country that saluted our troops, 
     united by a new respect for our military and for U,S. world 
     leadership.

[[Page S960]]

       Prior to the commencement of Desert Storm, we honored 
     Congress' right to be heard, and to cast their votes, before 
     a single shot was fired. In ending the war when we did, after 
     Kuwait had been liberated, we also kept our word to our 
     coalition partners--and abided by the international authority 
     under which we agreed to operate. Our principled leadership 
     and restraint enhanced our credibility in the region, and 
     earned us a windfall of political capital--which we, in turn, 
     used to jump-start the peace process.
       As President, it fell to me to lead this effort; but let me 
     note for the record that no President was ever more blessed 
     by a superb team. ``Excellence'' best describes the people I 
     had at my side.
       I also want to note the special role played by one of your 
     future speakers in this outstanding series, Bob Dole. It is 
     well-known that Bob and I went head-to-head a time or two on 
     the campaign trail--but when the dust of political combat 
     settled, we were always able to put it behind us, and close 
     ranks. It's a good thing, too, for during my four years as 
     President, I earned the distinction as only the second Chief 
     Executive to serve a full term without Party control in 
     either House of Congress. As a result, I came to rely heavily 
     on Bob Dole--and not once did he let me down.
       He was the model Party leader in the Senate--never putting 
     his agenda ahead of the President's. In my opinion, you could 
     write a textbook based on the way he handled a tough job. 
     Through it all, he showed great class, and courage, and 
     leadership.
       In the final analysis, I had my chance to serve, and did my 
     best. I messed some things up, and maybe got a few things 
     right. For four years, I was up against a Senate Majority 
     that looked very differently at some of the key issues I 
     faced as President, but I never felt that it wasn't within 
     their right. That's just the way it was, and I am quite 
     content to step aside and let history judge the merits of our 
     actions.
       Now, since leaving Office, I have stayed away from 
     Washington--but that does not mean I lack interest in events 
     here. I have refrained from commenting on the serious matter 
     now before the Senate--and will continue to do so. But like 
     Howard Baker and many others, I confess that the lack of 
     civility in our political debate and official dealings with 
     one another concerns me.
       I worry, too, about sleaze--about excessive intrusion into 
     private lives. I worry about once-great news organizations 
     reduced to tabloid journalism--giving us sensationalism at 
     best, smut at worst. (I have to be careful: I used to go 
     around bashing the media, to standing ovations I might add, 
     until a friend wrote and told me to stop it. So I joined 
     Press Bashers Anonymous . . . and I've been clean for six 
     months now.) But I do think the press needs to be more 
     accountable.
       All in all, it seems to me that, whereas the problems 
     looming over this town dealt more with budget deficits in 
     times past, today we are confronted with a deficit of 
     decency--one that deepens by the day. Washington is a place 
     for big ideas, and doing big things; but it's also a small 
     town in many respects, too small for the bitter rancor that 
     has divided us as people in recent times.
       Having said that, as a former President, I don't believe in 
     placing outside pressure on the Senate. I have felt it is 
     better for the Senate to chart its own course and do its 
     business without my intervention.
       It is a popular notion, in some quarters, to name former 
     Presidents as ``senators-for-life.'' After seeing what has 
     happened to General Pinochet, I'd rather pass on that. I am 
     not one who feels that former residents of 1600 Pennsylvania 
     must be consulted, or that some office must be created to use 
     their expertise.
       Writing in his book Mr. Citizen after he left Office, 
     President Truman suggested designating former Presidents as 
     ``Free'' members of Congress--with the right to sit in the 
     Congress, take part in the debate, and sit in on any 
     committee meetings, but with no right to vote. (This from a 
     dangerously titled chapter, ``What to do with Former 
     Presidents?'') I have great respect for President Truman, but 
     no interest in such a concept.
       Besides, should I speak up on a hot or controversial issue, 
     some enterprising reporter would go to one of my sons and 
     say: ``Your nutty father feels this way, Governor. How do you 
     feel?''
       They don't need that grief--nor do I.
       It was Thomas Jefferson who said: ``There is a fullness of 
     time when men should go, and not occupy too long the high 
     ground to which others have the right to advance.''
       So it is for the Bush family, just as it is here in the 
     Senate family.
       In his 1963 book, ``A Senate Diary,'' journalist Allen 
     Drury published the daily diary he kept from 1943 to 1945 
     when he was a newly assigned reporter covering Capitol Hill. 
     It's an extraordinary book that recorded his initial 
     impressions, and captured the essence of the daily 
     proceedings--particularly in the Senate.
       Of the Senators themselves, Drury summarized: ``You will 
     find them very human, and you can thank God they are. You 
     will find that they consume a lot of time arguing, and you 
     can thank God they do. You will find that the way they do 
     things is occasionally brilliant but slow and uncertain, and 
     you can thank God that it is . . . That is their greatness 
     and their strength; that is what makes (the Senate) the most 
     powerful guarantor of human liberties free men have 
     devised.''
       One last thought about the Senate.
       Fifty years ago, I was starting out in the oil business--
     out on the dusty expanse of West Texas. In those days, in 
     that place, a man's word was his bond. So much so, in fact, 
     that much of our business was done on a handshake.
       There aren't many places where you can still do business on 
     a handshake. But you can still do it in the United States 
     Senate.
       Indeed, gathered as we are in this solemn setting, we not 
     only marvel at how the universe outside these hallowed walls 
     has changed over the last 189 years--we also take comfort at 
     how much the world inside these walls has remained the same--
     how a timeless code of duty and honor has endured. And we can 
     thank Almighty God that it has.
       In this light, it is fitting to close with the words Aaron 
     Burr used to close his career in the Senate. In his 
     retirement address of 1805, Burr eloquently noted: ``It is 
     here, in this exalted refuge; here, if anywhere, will 
     resistance be made to the storms of political frenzy and the 
     silent arts of corruption . . .''
       As long as there exists a Senate, there will exist a place 
     of constancy, of Madisonian firmness--a place unlike any 
     other, where the sacred principles of freedom and justice are 
     eternally safeguarded. As with this majestic chamber, may we 
     always be humbled before it--and cherish it ever more.
       Thank you very much.

                          ____________________