[Congressional Record Volume 145, Number 158 (Wednesday, November 10, 1999)]
[Senate]
[Pages S14578-S14579]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                     COMPREHENSIVE TEST BAN TREATY

 Mr. COVERDELL. Mr. President, several weeks ago the Senate 
wisely rejected the Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty. Much was written 
about how the debate evolved here in the Senate. As one closely 
involved in this historic debate, I submit for the Record an excellent 
article in the November 8 issue of National Review by Richard Lowry.
  The article follows.

                [From the National Review, Nov. 8, 1999]

                              Test-Ban Ban

                           (By Richard Lowry)

       ``If we had a hearing and had a vote on the CTBT, we would 
     win overwhelmingly.''
       --Sen. Joe Biden, July 29, 1998
       Jesse Helms mounted his motorized cart and left the 
     Republican cloakroom, just off the Senate floor. Arizona 
     senator Jon Kyl was right behind him. Georgia's Paul 
     Coverdell got word in his office and immediately headed out 
     the door. All were converging on the offices of majority 
     leader Trent Lott late Tuesday afternoon, Oct. 12, as Senate 
     staffers and others buzzed of an imminent deal to avoid a 
     vote on the Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty. Minority leader 
     Tom Daschle had just offered Lott a treaty-saving agreement. 
     Now the small group of Republicans-after clearing Lott's 
     cramped conference room of all staff, to ensure privacy--
     would decide whether the Senate would vote down a major 
     international treaty for the first time in 80 years.
       Their decision would be the culmination of months of work, 
     and it would determine whether the congressional wing of the 
     GOP would win its most significant victory since welfare 
     reform in 1996. They knew they had a strong case on the 
     merits. Defeating the treaty would, among other things, fit 
     into a two-pronged national-security strategy featuring both 
     missile defense and nuclear deterrence; deterrence is 
     impossible without a safe, reliable American arsenal of the 
     sort that the treaty would endanger. Shrewd GOP tactics and a 
     series of Democratic miscalculations had brought the treaty 
     to the brink, and now the senators were back where they had 
     started--around that conference table--pondering whether to 
     push it over the edge.
       The first meeting in Lott's office had been in late April, 
     when those same four began a quiet, well-organized effort to 
     defeat the treaty. Kyl was the point man. A bright, serious-
     minded conservative and an authority on arms control, he had 
     hosted meetings of anti-treaty staff as early as February. 
     Soon after, he enlisted the help of Coverdell, always an 
     important behind-the-scenes Senate player. Treaty opponents 
     realized from the beginning that they would be wise to learn 
     from their defeat on the  Chemical Weapons Convention two 
     years earlier, when Lott undercut them at the last minute. 
     The first lesson? Get Lott on board early.
       At the April meeting, Lott indicated his opposition to the 
     treaty but said that no decisions could be made until the 
     group determined how many Republicans were with them. So, in 
     early May, treaty opponents began the first in a series of 
     careful ``whip checks'' of how GOP Senators intended to vote. 
     They gave wide berth to Senators who were likely to support 
     the treaty or might spread word that something was afoot. 
     ``There were 15 to 20 members we didn't even ask,'' says a 
     Senate aide. The first count showed 24 votes against the 
     treaty--10 short of the number needed to stop it--with 
     another 11 ``leaning against.''
       Around this time, an internal debate among treaty opponents 
     was close to resolution, at least in the minds of Kyl and 
     Coverdell. The question had been whether it was better to 
     ``go fast''--gather the votes to defeat the treaty, then vote 
     on it right away--or ``go slow,'' in the hope of bottling it 
     up forever. The ``go fast'' advocates figured treaty 
     opponents would only lose strength as the November 2000 
     elections neared. With the approach of Election Day, Senators 
     would want to avoid any controversial vote, while the White 
     House would benefit from additional time to hammer its 
     opponents. The chemical-weapons fight had demonstrated the 
     awesome communications power of the administration. Why wait 
     for it to shift into gear?
       In early August, Lott was shown a binder full of clips--op-
     eds and letters--that supported the treaty, which seemed to 
     indicate that the administration's push for it was underway. 
     For a long time, treaty opponents had feared the 
     administration would use a September conference commemorating 
     the third anniversary of the treaty's signing as a deadline 
     for Senate action. A July 20 letter from all the Senate 
     Democrats--demanding hearings and a vote by October--seemed 
     to confirm this plan. A fall treaty fight would coincide 
     nicely with the period in which Republicans would be 
     scrambling to pass appropriations bills. Democrats would have 
     leverage to threaten to bollix up the spending process--
     creating the conditions for another ``government shutdown''--
     unless Republicans released the treaty.
       Lott settled on a three-part interim strategy: (1) Helms--
     with 25 years' experience opposing ill-conceived arms-control 
     treaties--would continue to hold up the treaty in his Foreign 
     Relations Committee; (2) meanwhile, influential former 
     national-security officials would continue to be lined up in 
     opposition to it; and (3) Kyl and Coverdell would continue to 
     work the vote count. By the time of a Sept. 14 meeting in 
     Lott's office, Kyl could guarantee 34 votes in opposition--
     just enough. He could also deliver the energetic help of 
     former secretary of defense (and secretary of energy) James 
     Schlesinger.
       Before long, the education effort by treaty opponents was 
     in full swing. Kyl's staff prepared briefing books to 
     distribute to other Senate staffers. Two nuclear-weapons 
     experts who had worked in the labs briefed senators both 
     individually and in small groups. And Schlesinger, who had 
     served in both Republican and Democratic administrations, 
     spoke at a luncheon for Republican Senators, then returned 
     for more briefings the following week. ``He was key to us,'' 
     says the Senate aide. The effort began to show in the 
     steadily rising vote count: Sept. 14-34 opposed; Sept. 17-35; 
     Sept. 22-38; Sept. 30--an amazing 42.
       At the same time, Democrats heedlessly stepped up their 
     agitation for action on the treaty. North Dakota Senator 
     Byron Dorgan

[[Page S14579]]

     was threatening to tie up Senate business, getting under 
     Lott's skin. ``They were a huge influence on the decision to 
     say, `Okay, let's just hold this vote,' '' says Coverdell 
     about the Democrats. On Sept. 28, Biden showed Helms a 
     resolution that he planned to offer, proposing hearings on 
     the treaty this year and a vote by March 31, 2000. Biden's 
     ploy seemed to indicate that the Democrats now planned to 
     raise the temperature on the treaty in the spring, when it 
     would get enmeshed in the presidential campaign and discomfit 
     George W. Bush. As a result, Lott decided to move. He quietly 
     reassured Biden that his resolution would be unnecessary.
       On Sept. 30, Lott offered a ``unanimous consent'' 
     agreement--all Senators have to sign on to such an agreement 
     for it to go into effect--to bring up the treaty for an 
     immediate vote. Daschle objected, charging that, among other 
     things, there wasn't enough time for debate. Lott gave the 
     Democrats the additional time they wanted, and on Oct. 1, 
     Daschle lent his support to a new agreement. There would be a 
     vote on the treaty within two weeks. Every Democrat in the 
     Senate had endorsed the timing--and this was a mistake of 
     major proportions.
       Why did the Democrats do it? In part, they were trapped by 
     their own rhetoric. Gleeful GOP staffers had a sheaf of 
     statements from Democrats demanding a treaty vote this year. 
     How could they back out now? They were also probably unaware 
     of the direness of their situation. ``It was plain 
     arrogance,'' says Kyl. ``They didn't have any idea they 
     wouldn't win.'' Democrats also might have figured that they 
     could, if necessary, cut a last-minute deal with Lott to 
     avert a vote. The final days of the treaty fight featured a 
     panicked Democratic effort to reverse course and do just 
     that, even as the vote count against them continued to mount: 
     Oct. 1-43 against; Oct. 7-45.
       Lott was still open to avoiding a vote, but only if he 
     could get an ironclad agreement from the Democrats that it 
     would not come up again for the duration of the Clinton 
     administration. It was this possibility--and the wiggle room 
     the administration would surely find in any such deal--that 
     had treaty opponents on edge. ``We were nervous until the 
     vote took place that something was going to sidetrack it,'' 
     says Arkansas Senator Tim Hutchinson. On Oct. 12, Daschle 
     sent Lott a letter proposing to shelve the treaty, barring 
     ``unforeseen changes.'' Lott promised to run it by his 
     members. Hence the call that brought Helms, Kyl, and 
     Coverdell dashing to Lott's office. Daschle's staff was 
     already telling reporters that a deal was at hand, prompting 
     yet another treaty opponent, Oklahoma's Jim Inhofe, to sprint 
     to Lott's office unbidden.
       Kyl, Helms, and Coverdell huddled with Lott over Daschle's 
     proposal. What did ``unforeseen changes'' mean? Coverdell 
     thought it was a ``glaring escape clause.'' The consensus of 
     the group was that it was unacceptable. ``We couldn't have 
     had a more calm, considerate discussion,'' says Kyl. ``Lott 
     didn't need to be persuaded or harangued in the least.'' 
     There was a brief discussion of going back to the Democrats 
     with a draft of a foolproof deal. But it dawned on everyone 
     that any deal would be impossible. The Democrats weren't 
     serious, and some Republicans were unwilling to go along no 
     matter what. Inhofe, arriving at Lott's office, emphasized 
     just that. The only way out, as one Senate aide puts it, 
     would have been ``an internal Republican bloodbath.''
       So, the next day, all systems were go. Lott firmly rejected 
     a last-minute floor attempt by Democratic lion Robert Byrd to 
     place obstacles in the way of a vote. Byrd threw a fit--to no 
     avail. It was too late. Republican Senator John Warner was 
     running around the floor, still gathering signatures on a 
     letter asking that the vote be put off. Again, too late. 
     President Clinton called Lott, asking if there was anything 
     he could do. Replied Lott: Too late. When the floor debate 
     was concluded, 51 Republican Senators voted down the 
     Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty in the face of international 
     pressure, the opposition of the White House, and hostile 
     media.
       Surprising? Well, yes. ``I thought we had 50,'' says Jon 
     Kyl.

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