The iCongressman (7 page)

MICHAEL

The National Archives Building bears a resemblance to the
Parthenon and is situated on Pennsylvania Avenue north of the National Mall.
The Archives exhibits important American historical documents such as the
Louisiana Purchase Treaty and the Emancipation Proclamation, but the Rotunda
for the Charters of Freedom is the part of the building the public comes to
see.

It is there where the original copies of the Declaration of
Independence, the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights are stored. Two
large-scale murals by Barry Faulkner in the Rotunda depict fictional scenes of
the presentation of our nation’s two most important documents. Both works have
more of a feeling of ancient Rome than anything depicting eighteenth-century
America.

I have been wandering around the room for the last twenty
minutes, finally stopping to admire the Constitution before moving over to the
first official document that united us as a people. There are no long lines to
wait in like a Six Flags amusement park. Visitors to the National Archives are
allowed to walk from document to document as they wish.

“You may be the only elected official in this town that
actually comes here,” I hear the voice say from behind me. I’m impressed that
she’s nearly fifteen minutes early for our meeting.

“From what I have seen over the past year, I’m not surprised,”
I say without turning around.

“Do you have a favorite part?” she asks, joining me in
admiring the document encased before us. I don’t bother to strain to read the
fading text of one our oldest and most cherished artifacts. Instead, I just
look directly at her and smile.

“‘That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive
of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to
institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and
organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to
effect
their Safety and Happiness.’”

“Fitting, considering your present circumstances,” she
observes, outstretching her hand. “Senator Marilyn Viano.”

“Congressman Michael Bennit,” I reply in an equally formal
voice, “but I prefer just being called Michael. I want to apologize for
dragging you here on Mother’s Day.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she says with a dismissive wave of
her hand. “I have no kids, thankfully. I’m happy to settle for being an aunt.
My siblings were the baby factories, giving my parents the desired
grandchildren, so they stayed off my back about it.”

“Baby factories?”

“Three siblings with eleven kids split between them. All
girls, except for my younger brother who had a son that can’t manage to get out
of his own way in life.”

I smile at the senator. She’s likeable in a proper, almost
British sort of way. Tall and fit for her mid-fifties, she looks like a
gray-haired cross between Ellen
Degeneris
and Dame
Judi
Dench
. Her sophisticated charm is disarming, but
something in her cold, calculating eyes tells me this woman can be a very
dangerous political creature.

“I’m sure you know all about the situation I have found
myself in.”

“Most of the country does, Michael,” she offers with a
dazzling smile cameras must have loved. “Blake filled me in on what pieces I
didn’t get from the news. The only thing I am uncertain about is what exactly
you are trying to do here.”

I take a deep breath to collect my thoughts. The reality is
I’m not sure what I’m trying to do here anymore. Just as Chalice surmised,
Congress isn’t what I thought it would be.

“From the moment the First United States Congress met in
April of 1789, skeptical citizens expected the worst from the people elected to
it. Over the next two hundred twenty-five or so years, we’ve done nothing but
confirm their opinions. I thought when I got elected I could show them there
was someone out there who could fulfill the Framers’ original expectations.”

“Michael, there’s your first problem. That’s a very naïve
approach to politics.” I’m glad she isn’t planning on going easy on me.

“Yeah, probably.
But it’s my
approach, and not one I plan on abandoning. Unfortunately, I am almost the only
person in the House who thinks that way.”

“Almost?” the senator queries with a raised eyebrow.

“Believe it or not, there may be another.” Exactly one,
assuming my first impression of Francisco Reyes turns into a lasting one. “And
it’s hard to have real discussions and debate about issues without serious
people to hold them.”

“The partisanship in the House and Senate is the longest
running show in Washington. Trying to pass any bill is like watching two
heavyweight boxers dance around each other in a ring because both are afraid to
get hit with a punch hard enough to put them on the mat. It’s frustrating, and
the public’s become too jaded and cynical to listen to the crap coming out of
this town anymore.”

“Exactly, and if we don’t start restoring America’s faith in
the political system, the divide will only grow worse until it forms a rift
that cannot be healed. Ask Abe Lincoln how much fun governing is when that
happens,” I add to drive my point home.

“You plan on doing that by yourself?”

“I can’t. That’s why I need your help.” Somehow I sense she already
knows that’s why I’m here, but I go on to explain my thoughts anyway. She
listens intently as we meander around the Rotunda, and then on to the “Record
of Rights” exhibit where a copy of the Magna
Carta
is
on display.

“Before you go down this path, you should know what you’re
up against. Over the last fifteen years, a majority of House districts have
become decisively Democratic or Republican. Three hundred of the seats in the
House are gerrymandered to the point where they are reliably safe for the
incumbent. Changing that won’t be easy, and in fact, will probably be a
complete failure.”

Congressional districts are redrawn every ten years
following the national census. Gerrymandering is a term first coined by the
Boston Gazette
in the early eighteen
hundreds to describe a practice where these boundaries are manipulated to
establish a political advantage for a particular party. It’s just another
method politicians have used to reduce the power of the American voter.

“Maybe, but it’s those members who don’t worry about being
reelected and can apply their ideological instincts without fear of retribution
back home. Members who feel no political need to court voters from the
ideological center aren’t compelled to collaborate and compromise. We need to find
a way to force them to play ball.”

She reflects on my comment for a moment, and I notice this
woman is very hard to read. She is extremely intelligent and analytical, but
she also doesn’t show an overt willingness to share her true feelings on a
matter. As an old soldier, I have been taught not to trust reporters or
politicians. Now I am dating a journalist and asking for help from a Washington
insider. My world is completely upside down from where it was two years ago.

SENATOR VIANO

Most freshman politicians in the House are naïve fools.
Since the House is the proving ground for Senate, I didn’t have much exposure
to the laughable tommyrot these political rookies bring to the capital. As much
as Michael Bennit falls into this category, I find myself liking him.

His back is up against a wall, and some very powerful people
are yearning to crush him. Ironically, some of those people are the same ones
who decided to end my political career. Bennit isn’t the type to go out quietly,
and the fighting spirit he embodies makes him my kind of guy. Unbridled
passion, and willingness to battle the elite in this town, is precisely what
I’m looking for.

“There are a lot of merits to your plan, Michael. But
remember, these people have war chests as big as Beaumont’s. In the modern age,
politicians devote more time and energy to raising money to run for reelection
than any other singular task.”

“True, but money doesn’t always buy wins. I spent nothing
and still came within a hundred votes of beating Beaumont,” Michael offers.
He’s right, but his campaign was unique and largely successful because of free
mainstream media coverage. For those not blessed with such an organic level of
curiosity, television commercials are the most effective way to reach the
population. Networks know this, thus air time for commercials is sold at a
premium.

To afford them, a candidate needs to be well financed. The
result is that fundraising becomes the primary concern for any politician who
ever worried about reelection. It was my Achilles’ heel, and maybe the reason I
find Michael’s proposal so fascinating. But the other piece of his plan is
intriguing.

 
“But you’re right, my
colleagues do spend an insane amount of time fundraising,” he continues.
“Because of that, there are few legislative statesmen and women. The number of
people in the House who either care about or understand the complexity of
national policy issues is non-existent. The result is what we have
today—politics eclipsing policy as the default mindset of Congress. That’s our
angle.”

 
“You’re planning on
exploiting the incumbents’ love affair with ducking tough issues.” He nods.
Conflict avoidance is a serious motivator for many in Congress, if for no other
reason than it can be used against them in a campaign. No politician likes
running on their record these days.

“Cards are on the table, Senator. What do you say? Will you
help?” The mood of the country is the mystery ingredient in the election
process. Right now, with the constant battles over program funding, the budget,
and the debt ceiling, the mood of the nation is darker than it has been in a
century. That could make the man in front of me the ultimate wild card.

A popular incumbent riding a wave of successes is harder to
defeat than a controversial one like Michael Bennit who has accomplished very
little. Despite his impotence, the parties are scared to death of this guy.
Fear is at play here, and a powerful motivator among the rank and file on both
sides of the aisle who must think they’re politically vulnerable because Bennit
owns social media.

“Your plan is intriguing, Michael, and may even work.
However, you are asking for an awful lot without offering much in return,” I
say coyly. Not that it matters, because I made my decision long before this
meeting. He is offering far more than he could ever understand. Maneuvering is
always part of the political game, so I might as well uncover any other
concessions he is willing to make.

“You’re right, I’m not,” he says plainly. “And that’s the way
it’s going to stay, unfortunately. I can only offer you a chance to help
reshape the political system and appeal to your sense of patriotism to take me
up on it.”

“I understand. Let me think about it and I’ll get back to you.”
We shake hands, and say our good-byes.

I leave the Archives and head out into the warm spring air,
reaching for my cell phone in the process to make a call to my former chief of
staff. After a few rings, the call gets sent to his voice mail.

“Gary, it’s me. If you’re still bored, I have a little
something I’d like you to work on for me. Call me.”

I press the end button and then select another number from
the presets in my phone. This call is far more important.

“We’re in,” is all I say when the call is picked up.

“Excellent,” is the terse reply the Southerner returns. I
hang up because nothing more needs to be said, at least over a cell network.

I tuck the phone in my purse and take a deep breath.

“And so it begins.”

SPEAKER ALBRIGHT

“Nathan!” I bellow after reading the text message on my
smartphone.

“Yeah, boss,” he replies, crossing the threshold into my
office.

“What’s happening on the Floor?” I inquire with a sense of
urgency. I don’t get panicked notes from the majority leader. I mean ever.

“Nothing that I know of.
They’re in
the Committee of the Whole to discuss the tax reform bill. Why?”

The Committee of the Whole House on the State of the Union,
as it is referred to by its formal name, is a parliamentary device used to
expedite the debate and amendment process for certain bills. It is less formal,
involves fewer members to have a quorum, and prohibits many of the motions some
representatives use to delay passage. The best part is, I get to appoint
someone to serve as chairperson and don’t need to physically be in the chamber.

My phone vibrates again with another plea from Harvey and I
rush past my chief of staff and out of my spacious Capitol office to get to the
Floor. The first thing I notice is that the media is here in much larger
numbers than usual. Something is not right.

The House mace, an ornamental object long part of the
House’s lore, is still perched on the lower pedestal, indicating that the House
hasn’t returned to regular session. It’s the official way an observer can
understand that the body is assembled in a different form, since every
representative who meets in the House chamber belongs to this particular
committee. Ironically, it’s technically the only one Michael Bennit belongs to.

“About time you got up here,” Harvey says urgently, pulling
me off to the side. “We’ve got a serious problem. Bennit offered an amendment
to the tax bill.”

“Harv, he’s an elected lawmaker, whether we like it or not.
He’s allowed to do that.” The Committee of the Whole can recommend amendments
to any bill, subject to re-approval when the House returns to session before
the amendments are added to the final bill. He hands me a sheet of paper
prepared by a member of his staff, and my eyes grow big as I read.

“You’ve got to be kidding me with this, right?”

“It passed, Mister Speaker.”

“What?” I almost scream.

“You heard me. Look at all the media here. The chamber was
full of moderates not about to vote no, so it passed. We’ll have to kill it on
the Floor during normal business when we come out of the Whole.”

The Committee of the Whole may vote on these amendments but
not on the final version of the bill. At the end of the debate, the bill’s
floor manager makes a motion to report the legislation, which is happening now.
The House then will return to regular session and vote on the bill and defeat
this amendment, but that will be done very publically.

“Bennit,” I grumble, shaking my head after spotting him over
near the side of the chamber. I storm over to him, and as much as I feel like
berating him for
all the
world to hear, I would be out
of order and scolded by the Chair. Not a good thing to happen to the Speaker of
the House.

“What the hell is this, Mister Bennit?” I say by means of
introduction, nodding to the hand holding the copy of the amendment Harvey gave
me.

“It looks
like an
eight and a half
by eleven inch sheet of copier paper. Brilliant white,” Michael Bennit retorts.

“No, I think
it’s
paper for a laser
printer,” Francisco Reyes corrects. “You see the texture?” Now I know who
orchestrated this little show in my House—the “icandidates.” Maybe there is
something to Harvey’s concerns after all, and that’s the exact message being
conveyed through the look he’s giving me.

“Oh, I think you may be right, Cisco. How did you know?”

“Connections, my friend.
You see, I
have this cousin who works at Staples and he―”

“If you two gentlemen are quite finished, it’s the absurd
amendment you offered to our bill that … what’s this say again? ‘Suspend
congressional and presidential pay, and dictate that the parties work around
the clock for a solution to the issue in the event a continuing resolution to
fund the government is not passed, resulting in a government shutdown,’” I read
from the paper.

The
continuing
resolution
is an appropriations bill Congress uses to fund government
agencies if a formal budget has not been signed into law by the end of the
fiscal year that runs from October through September. Since the Democrats won’t
move on spending, I will not allow a vote on the bill since a majority of my
caucus doesn’t support it.

“Yes, Mister Speaker, I believe that’s what it says.
Cisco?”

“That’s my recollection of the amendment as well, Michael.”
Oh, these guys think they’re so smart.

“This amendment has no chance to get passed when the House
comes back to order. I will see to that.”

“Okay, then defeat it. Of course, the price tag is a little
steep in terms of political embarrassment. I’m sure your caucus will be
screaming at you for making them cast that vote,” the representative from Texas
says.

“Or you can bury it using the Hastert Rule, just like every
other bill you don’t want to see voted on. I’m sure Americans would just love
the prospect of not getting tax relief because you’re too busy sparring with
the Democrats.”

 
“You gentlemen are
apparently not savvy enough to understand the politics involved,” Harvey says,
coming to my defense. “Turning off the spigot of federal dollars is the only
way to keep the Democrats from spending like gambling addicts and driving the
country deeper into debt. Not that we should expect independents to understand
how government works.”

Congressman Reyes takes the dig personally, and he looks
like he might actually take a swing at my partner. A small crowd of
representatives from both parties is starting to gather around us. Although our
voices are being kept low enough to not disrupt the business of the Committee
of the Whole, the North Carolinian I appointed as Chairman must be getting
distracted.

“As per the Constitution, only Congress may appropriate the
money needed to operate the federal government,” Reyes explains coolly, almost
as if reading from a book. “Therefore, Congress is required to pass separate
spending bills every year, and if no such law is signed, all functions of the
government not exempted by the
Antideficiency
Act
cease immediately. In order to prevent this interruption, Congress may pass a
continuing resolution that authorizes funding of federal agencies at the
current level until either the resolution expires, or an appropriations bill is
passed.”

“I understand how government works, Mister Leader, as does
my distinguished colleague here,” Michael Bennit points out to Harvey, almost
sounding bored with his colleague’s verbatim piece of political prose. “The
situation you described is not the workings of government, but of the two
dominant political parties. If you guys want to play chicken with each other,
that’s your prerogative. When you hang ordinary American citizens out to dry in
the process, well, I have a big problem with that. If that means I had to
attach an amendment onto an unrelated bill to get you guys to sit at a table,
then damn it, that’s what I had to do.”

I can feel my blood pressure shoot up. Being in politics for
as long as I have, I learned the necessity of controlling my temper and
thinking rationally. Hot heads, like Winston Beaumont, whom Michael Bennit
defeated, sooner or later make a mistake and pay a steep political price.
Despite this, I’m trying to tamp down my emotion so I can speak.

“This isn’t over, Bennit,” Harvey says, beating me to the
punch. “We won’t forget this.” The comment elicits a smile from both Michael
and Francisco.

“We certainly hope you won’t,” Bennit says, walking away
with his new buddy and exiting the chamber. Realizing there won’t be a
headline-grabbing brawl today, the others gathered around us disperse.

“This is a huge problem, Johnston,” the majority leader
observes. “If we vote down this amendment, we look callous, and if we don’t, we
lose our wedge issue with the Democrats.”

“I know the stakes, Harvey.”

“Two censures and two reprimands haven’t forced him out of
here, so the members are going to demand a plan.”

“There’s already one in the works. Now, let’s get back to
it,” I say, ending the discussion as the House returns to order from being the
Committee of the Whole. The first order of business will be undoing the damage
Michael Bennit just inflicted, but that’s not my only concern.

Our confrontation on the floor is going to get some television
exposure, and now it dawns on me that the whole episode could have been
recorded by cell phone. I don’t understand what makes things go viral, but I do
understand how unwanted videos can have embarrassing political ramifications.
This whole stunt feels orchestrated to achieve that goal, making Bennit more
dangerous than I thought.

Of course, there are enough embarrassing reprimands now to
all but ensure a victory against him this fall. Bennit’s last words to Mister
Stepanik weren’t meant as a personal slight. He issued a warning. With all the
pressure we’ve exerted on him to resign before the election, I wonder if we’ve
pushed too hard and took him off the leash by accident. As I accept the gavel
to bring the House back into order, all I can think of is Yamamoto’s quote at
Pearl Harbor: “I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant and fill
him with a terrible resolve.”