"Sarbanes Disputes the Theory of Relative Senate Success," The Washington Post, October 30, 1994
October 30, 1994, Sunday, Final Edition
SECTION: METRO; PAGE D1
HEADLINE: Sarbanes Disputes the Theory of Relative Senate Success
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BYLINE: Charles Babington, Washington Post Staff Writer
Sen. Paul S. Sarbanes likes to recount how he once told Albert Einstein to hush.
It was 1950, and Sarbanes, a Princeton University freshman, was catnapping between classes. Loud voices wafted through his dorm window, Sarbanes recalled, "so I said, 'Be quiet out there!' " When the talking continued, Sarbanes went to the window to eyeball his tormentors. "It was Einstein, leading a group of students," he said.
What happened next? "Oh, they just moved a little farther down the walk," Sarbanes said with a shrug. End of story. No zesty punch line. No climactic confrontation between the genius professor and the future Democratic senator from Maryland. No epiphany for the young man who later would become a Rhodes Scholar.
Like Sarbanes' long Senate career, the details of the Einstein encounter tantalize, but they don't fully satisfy. Intellectual prowess and limitless promise hang about his shoulders as naturally as his Senate-gray suits. But even his remarkable string of political victories and years of scandal-free service to Congress can't keep some admirers from hungering for something extra, from wondering if there could have been more.
"People have recognized his brilliance and his honesty," said Peter A. Jay, a veteran Maryland political reporter. "He's just what you'd want your public person to be like. ... But politically, and in a way personally, there is something missing. He doesn't surprise you, ever. You sometimes want brilliant people to surprise you."
Ten years ago, in a Baltimore Sun article titled "The Puzzle of Paul," Jay described Sarbanes as a man "with an odd lack of sparkle for one so brilliant. ... A man of sobriety and rectitude, quick to spot the shortcomings of others, but without much humor or imagination." A decade later, Jay said in a recent interview, he still hasn't solved the puzzle of Paul Sarbanes.
"Maybe," he said, "we ask too much."
That's exactly what Sarbanes' defenders say. They sometimes tire of apologizing for a man who, by all accounts, attends to his Senate duties doggedly, earnestly and faithfully, and is poised to become chairman of the banking committee if he wins a fourth six-year term Nov. 8 and the Democrats retain control of the Senate.
"He doesn't need a [campaign] poster to tell Maryland voters what he stands for," said R. Sargent Shriver, the former vice presidential nominee who recently introduced Sarbanes at a Bethesda breakfast. "He's a symbol of integrity. He's a symbol of loyalty. ... This man is a man of results."
In this age of campaign fax attacks and 15-second sound bites, Sarbanes, 61, has made a virtue of maintaining a profile so low that the term "stealth senator" was worn out years ago. "We don't blow our horn a lot," he told the Bethesda audience, "and when we get into an election period, that sort of comes back on us."
His admirers say reporters and critics should drop their cynicism and accept Sarbanes as a political gem: a guileless senator who diligently does his job without seeking publicity; a man who has won 15 consecutive elections with a no-nonsense style that should shame camera-craving candidates in other states.
Royce Bennett, a Baltimore paint contractor, is the quintessential Sarbanes supporter. "He's always on the job," said Bennett, 49, after shaking hands with the senator recently at Baltimore's Lexington Market. "A lot of people say he's not seen around Maryland. But if you put somebody on the job, he ought to be there to vote."
Sarbanes said he deliberately avoids attention in Congress when working to help Maryland on matters that inevitably will hurt other states. "Sometimes you don't want a lot of fanfare," he said, noting that he quietly slipped into the Capitol on a Sunday morning to urge a panel to stick with its plans to shift thousands of workers from Northern Virginia to Montgomery County to operate the Naval Sea Systems Command.
Michael L. Subin, a Montgomery County Council member who followed the action closely, said Sarbanes played a crucial role in the nip-and-tuck negotiations.
"Paul Sarbanes was able to counter a very aggressive and coordinated attempt on the part of Congressman [James P.] Moran and the business community in Virginia to keep [the command] at Crystal City," said Subin, a Democrat. "Sarbanes was able to counter their every move and every argument."
Given such accolades, why do whiffs of disappointment, hints of unfulfilled promise, tinge most summaries of Sarbanes' career? Why does the well-regarded book "Politics in America" say, "Sarbanes' painstaking approach and penchant for a narrow legislative focus have frustrated his admirers, who feel he should be more of a leader"?
The 1992 edition of a similar book, the Almanac of American Politics, said Sarbanes' "years in the Senate have seen few triumphs." The 1994 edition, however, said, "Now is his moment," mainly because he is in sync with President Clinton's efforts to trim the deficit and spur economic growth.
In fairness, Sarbanes' reputation in Congress suffers largely in comparison to the extraordinary expectations brought about by his American-dream background. A son of immigrant Greeks who ran a restaurant in Salisbury, Md., Sarbanes received degrees from Princeton; Oxford University, where he met his British-born wife, Christine; and Harvard Law School, where he graduated with high honors.
After joining a Baltimore law firm and winning a Maryland House of Delegates seat in 1966, Sarbanes entered the U.S. House in 1970 by defeating a committee chairman, George Fallon. Political foes, led by then-Gov. Marvin Mandel, redistricted him into another House veteran's region, but the incumbent retired rather than face Sarbanes.
In 1974, Sarbanes gained national attention by drafting the key article of impeachment against President Nixon. Two years later, he moved to the Senate, defeating former senator Joseph D. Tydings in the Democratic primary and Republican Sen. J. Glenn Beall in the general election. He coasted to reelection victories in 1982 and 1988.
Once in the Senate, however, Sarbanes was eclipsed by several peers. His friend George J. Mitchell (D-Maine) lacked Sarbanes' sparkling academic credentials and degree of seniority, but he was elected majority leader in 1988 and now is retiring. Sarbanes may have wowed them at Harvard Law, but it was Mitchell whom Clinton wanted on the Supreme Court.
And it's provocative intellectuals such as Sen. Daniel Patrick Moynihan (D-N.Y.) whom the Sunday morning talk shows usually prefer over Sarbanes, a rather dour man who refuses a larger-than-life role.
Within the Senate, Sarbanes introduces few bills, arguing that the most important work is done in committees and negotiating sessions. When his name is attached to legislation, it's rarely exciting stuff; his management of the reauthorization of the Export-Import Bank and the Overseas Private Investment Corp. is a case in point.
In campaign brochures, he takes credit for: steering to Montgomery County a major new lab for the Walter Reed Army Institute of Research; staving off efforts to close a military-related medical school in Bethesda; introducing the National Teachers Act "to improve teacher recruitment, training and research"; and helping restore funding for student aid programs, including Pell grants.
If he becomes banking chairman, he will wield substantial influence over national monetary matters. He said he will give equal attention to the housing and urban affairs aspects of the committee's jurisdiction.
His Republican challenger, former Tennessee senator William E. Brock III, denigrates Sarbanes' record, saying he "hasn't introduced a single successful bill on education or crime or tax reduction or job creation or any other matter of substance."
Sarbanes rejects the charge, saying he helped shape successful legislation for cleaning up the Chesapeake Bay, "helping to build a high-technology infrastructure in Montgomery County," establishing the Trade Promotion Coordinating Committee and completing the Washington area's mass transit system.
"I think we've given the people of this state distinguished service," Sarbanes said in an interview. "I think we've done this job with a real measure of integrity, including intellectual integrity."
Sarbanes' voting record is consistently liberal, reflecting his lifelong support of labor unions, social spending and civil rights measures. Last year, only five senators sided more often with President Clinton on legislative matters, according to Congressional Quarterly. In the case of Sarbanes' vote against the Clinton-backed North American Free Trade Agreement, organized labor strongly opposed the president.
Although Sarbanes sometimes displays a wry wit, low-level Senate staff members recently polled by a Capitol Hill newspaper rated him as one of the "least congenial" members. Staff members said he "never smiles and [he] snaps his fingers when he wants something done."
"I was really upset by that," Sarbanes said. He said he snaps his fingers only to get a page's attention and avoid interrupting a speaker while on the Senate floor.
Nonetheless, a Republican senator, who spoke on the condition of anonymity, said Sarbanes "is looked on as a sourpuss. I certainly wouldn't rank him as one of the more popular figures. ... He's certainly not regarded as one of the giants of the Senate."
But does Paul Sarbanes have to be a Lyndon B. Johnson, an Everett M. Dirksen, a political equivalent to Albert Einstein to fulfill his promise and serve his constituents?
"In a lot of ways we're lucky, when you look around at the performance of other people," said Jay, who posed "the Puzzle of Paul" years ago. "I just wish we were getting the full benefit of all he has to offer."