The conviction last month of Alaska Sen. Ted Stevens only opened a can of worms; his re-election on Tuesday dropped a big, squirmy serving on the plate of the state’s congressional credibility.
The worms even come in two flavors: practical and moral.
Before the election, the Republican Party’s practical, strategic problem was almost simple. A few prominent voices called for Stevens to resign, without anyone seriously believing he would be swayed. That gave them some moral cover, while retaining the best chance for keeping Stevens’ Senate seat in their column.
If Stevens had pulled out of the race, it would have handed the seat to Mark Begich and the Democrats, since no viable alternative candidate could have jumped in for the Republicans with so little time left. Now that Stevens has apparently won re-election, the election effectively goes into overtime and gives the GOP another chance, if Stevens resigns.
So that was the best-case scenario from the Republican strategists’ point of view. But they apparently don’t know the Hulk like we do in his home state.
It was always clear that Stevens was not playing a strategy for his party’s post-election prospects. His indignation at the charges of lying on expense reports — whether justifiable or not — was genuine.
Steven’s continued campaign put the whole situation into his constituents’ hands and turned it into a purely moral question. Because we knew he would not slink away, those who voted for his re-election had to decide whether they believed him innocent.
If they do, voting for him and sticking with him is the right choice, even at the risk of severe embarrassment to the state if he loses his appeal and the Senate refuses to take him back. After all, courts have legally convicted innocents before.
We hope that was the motivation for Stevens supporters. Otherwise, votes cast for him prove the most cynical interpretation view from Outside — that Alaska’s highest criterion for federal office is as simple as the bottom line.
But given Senate rules, the Stevens victory may turn into a symbolic gesture, whether morally defiant or amorally greedy. According to Article 1 of the Constitution, the Senate has the authority to accept or eject its own members. The political cost to the Republicans and Alaska will be further embarrassment and loss of congressional clout.
If Stevens sticks to his guns, he could not accept a pardon from President Bush, since that would in some degree acknowledge his guilt. And a presidential pardon or clemency would not necessarily influence the Senate’s decision about whether to seat him.
Ironically, that leaves Stevens’ appeal as the best way out for the senator, his party and the state of Alaska.
If an appeals court overturns his convictions, the moral problem mostly goes away and he gains powerful ammunition against any challenge to his right to take his place in the Senate.
If the appeals court lets the convictions stand, Stevens’ ejection from the Senate becomes almost certain, and a special election will give the Republicans a token, longshot chance at replacing him. But by then, Alaska voters will have had more time to think about his age, diminished clout, and the recently enlarged Democratic majority in the Senate.
Stevens did not set out to deceive. But, tragically, in the course of his 40 years in office, he lost touch with normal life. Any other Alaskan would have asked, “Why is an oil company executive personally overseeing the renovation of my home?” The question apparently did not occur to the state’s champion power broker.
In taped conversations with VECO president Bill Allen, Stevens discussed bills and gifts that could have political ramifications, and even procedures for handling them to comply with Senate rules. But that discussion was about what was allowed and what was required — not about what was right.
Stevens will not go quietly, neither for his own remaining dignity nor “for the good of Alaska,” and his defiance of the verdict against him shows contempt of the judicial system. He has made his bed, and now we must lie in it.