[Congressional Record Volume 164, Number 143 (Monday, August 27, 2018)]
[Senate]
[Pages S5947-S5948]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]



                        Remembering John McCain

  Mr. FLAKE. Mr. President, until the very end, he served his country--
until the very end. ``Service,'' to John McCain, meant living something 
unique in all the history of the world. It meant living in service to 
something unique--the American idea.
  E pluribus unum--``from many, one''--might seem like a quaint vestige 
from a more idealistic time when compared to the brutal and determined 
divisions of our time, but it was an idea that defined John McCain's 
life. In and through his service, he defied categorization; frustrated 
the tired conventions of the way party loyalists were supposed to 
behave; acted against his own political interests time and again in a 
way that, from our vantage

[[Page S5948]]

point today, is nothing short of awe-inspiring; and he recognized that 
democracy was hard but that living in bondage to tyranny was far 
harder.
  We talk a lot in this Chamber about freedom. No one in this city and 
few in American history knew as much or as vividly about the price of 
freedom as did John McCain. Our words are too often cheap and eminently 
forgettable, but John McCain paid our freight with his body and with 
his soul.
  To our shame, he lived long enough to have to take to this Senate 
floor to inveigh against the rank tribalism that we have fallen into 
lately. He knew that giving in to our worst impulses to score pyrrhic 
political victories was as easy as it was dangerous and was and is a 
tangible threat to American democracy--a democracy to which he gave 
every bit of his life.
  If I may, and with your indulgence, I will read from Senator McCain's 
last speech from this room.
  On July 25, 2017, while bearing the fresh wounds from his last 
battle, Senator McCain stood in this Chamber. Thinking not of himself 
but of his country, he exhorted, inspired, pleaded, and cajoled all of 
us in an attempt to shake us to our senses in order to reject the 
prevailing ugliness that seized the Capitol. One last time, he was 
standing alone to do what was right. In a sure sign of just how 
desperate he was, he even appealed to our decency and to our reason--
qualities that seem to have long fled Washington.
  That day last summer, he said in part:

       We are the servants of a great nation, ``a . . . nation, 
     conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that 
     all men are created equal.'' More people have lived free and 
     prosperous lives here than in any other Nation. We have 
     acquired unprecedented wealth and power because of our 
     governing principles, and because our government defended 
     those principles.

  He went on:

       America has made a greater contribution than any other 
     nation to an international order that has liberated more 
     people from tyranny and poverty than ever before in history. 
     We have been the greatest example, the greatest supporter, 
     and the greatest defender of that order. We aren't afraid. We 
     don't covet other people's land and wealth. We don't hide 
     behind walls. We breach them. We are a blessing to humanity.

  He continued:

       What greater cause could we hope to serve than helping keep 
     America the strong, aspiring, inspirational beacon of liberty 
     and defender of dignity of all human beings and their right 
     to freedom and equal justice? That is the cause that binds us 
     and is so much more powerful and worthy than the small 
     differences that divide us.

  Until the very end, he served his country.
  Now, as we consider the life of this man, in stark relief to what now 
passes for our politics, he continues to serve as a beacon to who we 
are and what we can be when we are at our best.
  If John McCain can forgive the North Vietnamese torturers, we can at 
least forgive each other. But that gesture of Senator McCain's was not 
merely a gesture of conciliation for conciliation's sake; it was 
reflective of a world view that saw the humanity even in his enemies, 
of a sometimes unfathomable decency that could overcome most any 
difficulty, of a deep dedication to another American idea--the idea 
that character is destiny--and to the eternally optimistic preference 
for tomorrow over yesterday.
  I don't know whether Senator McCain--whether John--subscribed to the 
``great man'' or ``great woman'' theory of history, the notion that the 
story of humanity is written by the actions and choices of great 
individuals. I don't know if he believed that, but I do know this: He 
lived it. I know this because it was my great honor of a lifetime to 
serve in this body with Senator McCain as the other Senator from 
Arizona.
  Long before that privilege was accorded me by the people of my State, 
I was John McCain's constituent. When the necessity presented itself to 
point up examples for my daughter and my four sons of lives lived with 
principle and purpose, of role models, I had to look no further than my 
own Senator. I have a pretty good idea that such approbation would be 
mocked most loudly by John McCain himself. I imagine he would have some 
choice and colorful language in response to the outpouring of love and 
tributes since he has left us. We know that, like all of us, the 
Senator was not perfect. In fact, if you are interested in an inventory 
of his failings, McCain himself was the most eager to provide it. Yet, 
as a former aide of his said in the past few days, McCain was not 
perfect, but he perfectly loved his country.
  Words are a poor measure of any life, much less a life the size of 
John McCain's and the swath he cut on this Earth. Yet we must try. We 
may never see his like again. For the sake of the country he loved, we 
owe it to his memory to try to be more like him so that when the season 
of mourning is over, we don't merely dispense with our earnest tributes 
and go right back to our venality. Because the poverty of our words 
notwithstanding, we have lately wasted a lot of words in this town 
doing and being everything that John McCain was not.

  We would do well to allow this moment to affect us in ways reflected 
not merely in our words but in our deeds. We would do well to reflect 
on John McCain's example today and ask ourselves if we are living up to 
it or even coming close. We would do well to honor him by emulating his 
example.
  We, of course, will never have his extraordinary comic timing. He 
ribbed me without mercy--and with only a little exaggeration--that the 
only way I got elected to anything was because of my hundreds of 
siblings and thousands of cousins. I would have laughed harder if there 
wasn't some truth to it.
  We will never possess his grace in both victory and defeat. We will 
never have his servant's heart nor his power and clarity about the 
daily effort that freedom requires. John McCain knew firsthand the epic 
global struggle for freedom, and so he was freedom's greatest champion 
in the Senate. He also knew that history is not a straight line and 
that the ghosts of the great ideological struggle of the 20th century 
are still here haunting the 21st. As he recently told Jeffrey Goldberg 
of the Atlantic, ``There's always a Putin somewhere in the world, and 
you're meant to oppose them with all the skills God gave you.''
  As we say goodbye to John McCain, let us take up his banner. His was 
always the good fight. We are fortunate to have known him best in 
Arizona, but he was bigger than any one State. He always belonged to 
America and to the world, and now he belongs to the ages.
  Farewell, Senator. Farewell, John.
  I yield the floor.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The Senator from Tennessee.
  Mr. ALEXANDER. Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the 
mandatory quorum call be waived.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. Is there objection?
  Without objection, it is so ordered.