by Peter Baker
In voting to acquit the president, I do so with grave misgivings for I do not mean in any way to exonerate this man. He lied under oath; he sought to interfere with the evidence; he tried to influence the testimony of key witnesses. And, while it may not be a crime, he exploited a very young, starstruck employee whom he then proceeded to smear in an attempt to destroy her credibility, her reputation, her life. The presidents actions were chillingly similar to the White Houses campaign to discredit Kathleen Willey. This last sentence Collins added out of deference to her meetings with Willey and her attorney the last two days. As much as it troubles me to acquit this president, I cannot do otherwise and remain true to my role as a senator. To remove a popularly elected president for the first time in our nations history is an extraordinary action that should be undertaken only when the presidents misconduct so injures the fabric of democracy that the Senate is left with no option but to oust the offender from the office the people have entrusted to him.
As Senator John Edwards sat and listened, he looked at his prepared remarks and decided they were inadequate to the moment. Few of the Senate juror-judges had been more attentive to the facts of the case, more analytical in their evaluations than the freshman Democrat from North Carolina. As a longtime trial lawyer and short-time senator, he viewed the trial through the prism of the courthouse where he had worked for so long. And he found plenty in the evidence to be troubled aboutnot just the underlying behavior, which raised moral concerns and which most Democrats preferred to focus on, but the legality of some of the presidents actions. In his mind, the perjury charge was not particularly strong, but the obstruction count appeared based on legitimate questions about the presidents actions. Yet like a criminal-trial juror, he was looking for proof beyond a reasonable doubt. In the end, he had doubts.
Approaching the lectern just after Collins to explain his decision, Edwards paused first to address the chief justice. The last time I saw you before this impeachment trial you were leading a sing-along at the Fourth Circuit Judicial Conference. I thought it might be a good idea for this group.
A healing device, Rehnquist offered. Laughter rippled through the chamber.
Edwards moved on. I want to speak to you from the heart. I want to speak to you about a struggle, because I have been through a struggle. It is a real struggle and I suspect that there are an awful lot of you who have been through the same struggle. He dismissed the perjury article without bother ing to go into detail. For the obstruction charge, though, he said he weighed each allegation according to a scale. The one that bothers me the most was the allegation that Clinton coached Currie. The presidents assertion that he was trying to jog his memory did not wash. I doubt if anybody buys that, Edwards said. But to prove witness tampering, the managers had to establish that he intended to influence her testimony. If we dont know what was in his head at that moment, how can we find that the prosecution has proven intent beyond a reasonable doubt? There is an enormous difference between what has been proven and what we suspect, because I have to tell you all, I suspect a lot that has not been proven.
By contrast with the buttoned-down Edwards, Senator Ben Nighthorse Campbell offered a folksier explication. His knowledge of the law is minimal, admitted the Colorado Republican in the bolo tie and cowboy boots, and he could not dazzle his colleagues with forty handwritten pages of notes taken during the trial. His basis for casting judgment was familiarityhe too was a sinner. Take the little matter of the pens they were given when they first took the oath to be impartial at the beginning of the trial. They said Untied States Senate by mistake, and the senators were asked to return them. I am not turning mine in, Campbell said. I want to see what its worth. And there you have it. An imperfect senator being asked to judge an imperfect president.
Few had come to the Senate from such an imperfect background as he. The same body where someone named Daniel Webster, John F. Kennedy, and Harry Truman once served also welcomed a mixed-blood kid from the wrong side of the tracksthe offspring of an alcoholic father and a tubercular mother, in and out of orphanages, a lawbreaker and high school dropout who lied, cheated, and stole and did many other shameful things [that] make me a poor judge indeed of someone else who used poor judgment. Turning to Clinton, Campbell said solemnly, I genuinely like him and feel sorry for both him and his family. But after agonizing as many of my Senate friends have, I remember the first question my then nine-year-old son, Colin, asked me seventeen years ago when I told him I was going to run for public office. He asked, Dad, are you going to lie and stuff? I told him, No, I dont have to learn how to lieI still remembered how to lie from my delinquent days. Im still trying to forget it. I told him, human frailties not withstanding, elected officials should not lie and stuff. And so, Campbell said, he would have to vote guilty.
While the final speakers of the day ran through their statements, Collins was back in the cloakroom on the phone with an aide. NBC had called the office and asked for confirmation that she had announced her decision to acquit in the secret session. Collins was furious. It had to be a Democrat, she figured, because Republicans were certainly not eager to leak her defection. She marched back into the chamber and passed a note to Lott informing him. He wrote back suggesting she speak on a point of personal privilege to tell her colleagues. Collins agreed and jumped to her feet to explain what had happened. Other senators murmured at the development, disturbed that their private deliberations had been violated.
When the sun rose on Friday, February 12, only nine senators were left to speak, including Lott, Daschle, and Byrd. By now, the votes were pretty clear. Four Republicans had said they would vote no on Article I and eight on Article II. Senator Richard Shelby, an Alabama Republican who had worried party leaders by skipping daily caucus meetings, had yet to tip his hand. And then there was Arlen Specter, who wanted to vote not proved and therefore could not exactly be counted in either column. Lott, still desperate to find a majority vote on Article II, sent Tom Griffith, the chief Senate lawyer, to work with Specter to find a way in which his vote would not be counted against them. In the past twenty-four hours, they thought they had worked out a dealSpecter would vote not proved and allow himself to be counted as present. That way, the final vote would be recorded as 5049, with one present vote. That would be a majority, sort of, and perhaps enough for Lott to save face with the House managers and the partys conservative base.
At 9:44 A.M., the Senate closed its doors one last time. Five more senators delivered their remarks, and finally it was time for Byrd to speak. Although he had asked to go at the end for the Democrats, there should have been no suspense in what he would have to say. After all, he had sponsored the motion to dismiss the case earlier in the trial. Surely that meant he would vote not guilty. How could anyone deem a prosecution so meritless that it should be cast out without a full hearing and yet still think the defendant might be guilty? But this was Byrd, and nothing was ever quite so simple with him. In recent days, he had sent signals that led many in both parties to wonder which way he would vote. In an interview broadcast the previous weekend on ABCs This Week, Byrd had said he had no doubt that Clinton provided false testimony under oath and thought indications were that he had obstructed justice as well.
The question is: Does this rise to the level of high crimes and misdemeanors? he said in that television interview. I say yes. No doubt about it in my mind. But the issue is should the president be removed? Should this president be removed? Thats the issue. And the Constitution requires that if he is convicted, he is automatically removed immediately with no second chance. So, it comes down to the questioncomes down to the issue, to remove or not to remove? That is the question.
Daschle was happy at least that Byrd had chosen to wait to speak until the end of the deliberations; even if he did defect, it would be too late to lead a cavalcade of other Democrats out of the stockyard. Still, Daschle wanted the caucus to be unified. If they were going out to face the political consequences of seeming to excuse Clintons roguish cond
uct, the minority leader did not want to give opponents a club they could use to bash them over the head and a guilty vote by Byrd would be a mighty painful club. So when Byrd stood and walked slowly down the center aisle to the lectern, many in the chamber strained to hear his voice.
This is my forty-seventh year in Congress, Byrd said. I never dreamed that this day would ever come. And until six months ago I couldnt place myself in this position. I couldnt imagine that, really, an American president was about to be impeached. . . . Like so many Americans, I have been deeply torn on the matter of impeachment. I have been angry at the president, sickened that his behavior has hurt us all and led to this spectacle. I am sad for all of the actors in this national tragedy. His family and even the loyal people around him whom he betrayedall have been hurt. All of the institutions of governmentthe presidency, the House of Representatives, the Senate, the system of justice and law, yes, even the mediaall have been damaged by this unhappy and sorry chapter in our nations history.
Byrd repeated what he had told ABCs Cokie Roberts: Clintons offenses did constitute an abuse or violation of some public trust worthy of impeachment. But he went on. Should Mr. Clinton be removed from office for these impeachable offenses? This question gives me great pause. The answer is, as it was intended to be by the framers, a difficult calculus. This is without question the most difficult, wrenching, and soul-searching vote that I have ever, ever cast in my forty-six years in Congress. After all the struggling, Byrd said, he had concluded that a case born in a partisan atmosphere and opposed by the public could not be sustained, no matter its merits. In the end, the peoples perception of this entire matter as being driven by political agendas all around, and the resulting lack of support for the presidents removal tip the scales for allowing this president to serve out the remaining twenty-two months of his term, as he was elected to do.
By now, Byrd had rambled on well beyond his allotted fifteen minutes, but Rehnquist, who had been tougher on other less prestigious senators, did not interrupt. Byrd turned and asked how much time he had taken. Twenty-two minutes, came back the answer. Appearing slightly embarrassed, Byrd apologized and quickly finished.
Now there were just three to go. Richard Lugar of Indiana, a modest, serious-minded Republican who had once run for president himself, declared firmly that he would vote for conviction, mocking the White House defense that attributed all those suspicious events to an immaculate obstruction in which jobs are found, gifts are concealed, false affidavits are filed, and the character of a witness is publicly impugned, all without the knowledge or direction of the president, who is the sole beneficiary of these actions.
Finally, it came time for Daschle and Lott to wrap up, two leaders of opposing parties with conflicting interests and yet one overriding goalpolitical survival with dignity. They had labored together against fantastic odds for six weeks to keep the Senate from coming apart, and each had found new respect for the other. For all of their different ideologies and styles, Daschle, as he once promised, had helped Lott to copilot the plane to a safe landing.
Daschle went first. He had a thorough analysis of the facts and law prepared for him by his lawyer, Bob Bauer, but he put it aside and spoke from his own scribblings in a more personal vein about his sense of betrayal by Clinton. The independent counsel had crossed the bounds of propriety, the House Judiciary Committee had relinquished its duty to conduct its own investigation, and the House as a whole had degenerated into a partisan bloodbath. But as deeply disappointed as I am with the process, it pales in comparison to the disappointment I feel toward this president. Maybe it is because I had such high expectations. Maybe it is because he holds so many dreams and aspirations that I hold about our country. Maybe it is because he is my friend. I have never been, nor ever expect to be, so bitterly disappointed again.
Perhaps that disappointment had spurred him to ensure the Senate did not follow down the same shameful trail, he said. The Senate has served our country well these past two months. And I now have no doubt that history will so record. He paid tribute to his partner, Trent Lott. Perhaps more than anyone in the chamber, I can attest to his steadfast commitment to a trial conducted with dignity and in the national interest. He has demonstrated that differenceshonest differenceson difficult issues need not be dissent, and in that end the Senate can transcend those differences and conclude a constitutional process that the country will respect, and I do.
With tears glistening in his eyes, Daschle reminisced about his father, who had taught him never to do anything he would not put his signature on. I thought of that twice during these proceedingsonce when we signed the oath right here, and again last night when I signed the resolution for Scott Bates, he said, referring to a Senate clerk who had died in an automobile accident during the trial. I will hear Scott Batess voice when I hear my name called this morning. My father passed away two years ago. He and Scott are watching now. And I believe they will say that we have a right to put our signature on this work, on what we have done in these past five weeks, for with our votes today we can turn our attention to the challenges confronting tomorrow.
Last up was Lott, who likewise extended his appreciation to my good friend Daschle for his cooperation and, at the same time, defended the proceeding they had cobbled together out of nothing, particularly that magic moment in the Old Senate Chamber when both parties had come together at the start. We tried to do impartial justicehonest, fair, and quick, he said. Lott, the onetime firebrand congressman, recalled leaving the House to join the Senate and noticing how much more civil it was. But we should lay off the House, he said, noting that it was not their fault this issue had landed in their laps. After all, he added, the independent counsel law was not our idea, meaning Republicans. When Lott came to Clinton, he mentioned the case of a judge impeached and convicted for perjury, and the dangerous precedent set by removing judges for lying under oath but not presidents. Democrats should have no problem evicting Clinton from the White House, he said, since it would only mean that Vice President Gore would move in and carry on the same policies. But Lotts personal reference resonated the most in the chamber, at least with fellow Republicans, as he recalled that his own daughter was about the same age as the young intern Monica Lewinsky, who was used for sexual services just off the Oval Office by the president of the United States.
Finally, Lott was done and so were the deliberations.
Lets vote, he said soberly.
Mr. Chief Justice, members of the Senate, the Senate has met almost exclusively as a court of impeachment since January 7, 1999, to consider the articles of impeachment against the president of the United States. The Senate meets today to conclude this trial by voting on the articles of impeachment, thereby fulfilling its obligation under the Constitution. I believe we are ready to proceed to the votes on the articles. And I yield the floor.
Just after noon, Lott turned over the proceeding to the chief justice, who instructed the clerk to read Article I aloud. All one hundred senators, who had grown more relaxed and casual as the trial wore on, now sat stiffly at their desks again as they had when it had begun thirty-six days earlier. All thirteen managers were stationed at their table on the floor, as were all seven main lawyers for the president, plus a few associates and aides given chairs so they could be present for history. The galleries were packed, and for once, all of the seats set up on the floor around the edge of the chamber were filled. The high school students who worked as Senate pages were lined up against the back walls. Sitting behind the Democratic senators was a corps of the presidents staunchest defenders from the House: Maxine Waters, John Lewis, Corrine Brown, and Sheila Jackson Lee.
The question is on the first article of impeachment, Rehnquist declared. Senators, how say you? Is the respondent, William Jefferson Clinton, guilty or not guilty? A roll call vote is required. The clerk will call the roll.
Mr. Abraham, the clerk called out.
Spencer Abraham stood at his desk. Guilty.
Mr. Abraham, guilt
y, the clerk repeated. Mr. Akaka.
Not guilty.
Mr. Akaka, not guilty. Mr. Allard.
And so it went, just as it had during the vote on dismissal. One by one, they pronounced their verdicts. Barbara Boxer punctuated her not guilty forcefully. Robert Byrd mumbled his. Daschles came out as a soft sigh. Orrin Hatch sounded resolute, if a little sad, as he declared, Guilty. Kay Bailey Hutchison issued the same judgment in barely a whisper. Richard Shelby showed his hand, calling out, Not guilty.
Finally, it came to Arlen Specter. Not proved, therefore not guilty.
A rustle swept through the room, as well as a snicker or two from the galleries. The clerk had been told to expect not proved and to mark it as present, per Specters deal with Tom Griffith. But Specter had changed his mind without telling anyone. Uncertain how to record this variation, the clerk did not repeat it aloud, as he had with all the others.
A few moments later, the galleries reacted with surprised murmurs when Republicans Fred Thompson and John Warner added their not guilty votes, although, unlike Shelby, they had told their fellow senators during the closed sessions that they would defect on the perjury article. With Feingolds return to the party fold and the parliamentarian counting Specter as not guilty, that meant all forty-five Democrats and ten Republicans had voted to acquit Clinton on Article I. Joining Specter, Shelby, Thompson, and Warner were Ted Stevens, John Chafee, Susan Collins, Slade Gorton, Jim Jeffords, and Olympia Snowe. The vote was completed at 12:20 P.M. A few senators got out of their seats to wander, and a low buzz hummed in the chamber as the clerks tallied the roll. Joe Lieberman went over to Shelby to congratulate him on his vote. Lott retreated to the back of the chamber to consult with Hatch.
