Nevertheless, every freshman denied that his vote had any influence on the steering committee. McGovern whose first-choice committee (Agriculture and Forestry) five other Senators were trying (unsuccessfully) to get off, experienced no difficulties. He admitted that Clark could be right about Senators who had been around for two to four years-and this was the most anyone would say for Clark's theory. McIntyre, who was very aware of the good and evil a committee assignment can do back home ("I wanted almost any committee as long as it had anything to do with New Hampshire") was disappointed at first. But now he is right in the middle of the TFX investigation, and jealous of no one.
Despite their common feeling that politics is not a matter of issues but of personalities, they disagree about where one can find his political friends in the Senate. Senators like Bayh ("It all depends on the circumstances; you look for help wherever you can get it") or Kennedy ("You look for votes where you can find them") display an essentially free-wheeling attitude; they are not committed to party label or ideology. Others, like McGovrn, look to men who think similarly, regardless of nominal party. There is a few-McIntyre, especially-who look to the other party, hoping that their influence will blur the voters' awareness of their own party.
The fact that the freshmen are politicians and not statesmen also produces a split in their conceptions of themselves. Many politicians simply love to run for office, and pine away between times; office has just as much utility to them as does the brass ring to the kid on a merry-go-round: you can (hopefully) get another ride around. Most of these Senators take genuine delight in running for office; only Nelson, who had campaigned for four straight years, admits he was tired of the whole business. Many actions are taken with a view to the eventual reckoning. "Though I vote with national considerations in mind," says McIntyre blandly, "I'd better be prepared to campaign on what I've done for New Hampshire, though that's three or four years away."
McIntyre points up a very common problem. Though supposedly independent of the sovereign people longer than anyone, and free to exercise his own judgement, each Senator decides for himself how much discretion is the better part of wisdom. The amount of discretion among the freshmen is actually quite surprising.
Perhaps the best example of a nationally-oriented Senator is Daniel K. Inouye of Hawaii, who has little to worry about back home since he won 2 to 1 over strong opposition. He is a soft-spoken man, with a brilliant war record and a tremendous drive to succeed. He is also a politician with unusual trust in his constituents; his newsletters as a Congressman were filled with reasoned factual descriptions of his positions, and simple, but informative descriptions of foreign countries. "My approach has always been a simple one. Many either speak down or lower themselves to the so-called 'level of the mob.' I try to excite people with larger problems; I avoid the local issues. As a national representative, it is my responsibility."
Inouye's vote in the rules fight most clearly demonstrates his independence. He voted with the conservatives, for a number of reasons, including the rather remote possibility that he might have to filibuster for the Sugar Act, but chiefly because he felt that it was unwise of the liberals to give up a weapon that could save the day for them sometime. "To those of you who wish to alter radically the balance of power between a majority in the Senate and a minority, I say, You Sow tre Wind, for minorities change and the time will surely come when you will feel the hot breath of a righteous majority at the back of you own neck." To many liberals, this is all very irrelevant to the business of obtaining full civil rights now. But to Ennuyé, who feels strongly that "democracy (is not) majority rule, but rather...the forged compromise of the majority with the minority," civil rights, meaning voting rights in the South, is far less important than a system which guarantees the existence of all civil rights.
His position as a result of his vote, is of course, not all that perilous politically. He merely has to vote for the civil rights bill when it comes up to satisfy his outraged constituents as to the correctness of his intentions. But, on the other hand, few Senators would feel obligated to defend such an obstructionist theory of government at a time which called for action, regardless of their true feelings. Part of this comes from his naturally honest and unassuming character, but a good deal of it comes from his belief that the people will listen to him regardless of what they think.
Abe Ribicoff is another freshman Senator interested primarily in national issues, but with an emphasis different from Inouye's. Ribicoff is a politician with an easy, graceful, and informal charm who has none of Inouye's historical concern. As to the man whose duty it was to handle Congress' opposition to welfare for Kennedy, he is primarily interested in actually passing bills, and less in the proper ways. His judgements are concise, devoid of rationalization and pussy-footing: "I just did not go along with Clark on the rules fight." The bills Ribicoff has introduced are not radical, but are simply mop-ups on his work in HEW. He hasn't introduced anything specifically to help Connecticut, although he considers the recently passed Mass Transit Bill to be an answer to his campaign promise to help the Fairfield County commuters. On the Finance Committee, he considers himself a representative of New England, not just Connecticut. Connecticut "likes a Senator with the big picture," he says.
The archetype of the Senator who works hard for his home state is Kennedy. It is not due to a lack of interest in national affairs, since he is very much interested in aid to education, Medicare, and trade, but from a realistic appreciation of the dangers of gaining too much national attention at this point. He turns away out-of-state invitations at the rate of 50 per week and concentrates his public appearances in Massachusetts-every major parade on St. Patrick's day and so on. He actively works for the relief of the fishing industry through capital construction grants and research vessels, and for textile and shoe manufacturers hit by imports. His office, unlike the generally bare offices of the other freshmen, is cluttered with Massachusetts' manufacturers and historical reminders of her past. Missiles, duck decoys, colonial furniture, and photographs all overwhelm the visitor with his intention of doing more for Massachusetts.
The rest of the group falls somewhere in between the two extremes of national and local interest. This is natural for the man who has slowly worked his way up the ladder in his state, and finally made the jump to federal office. Then too, they are not really primarily concerned with such divisions of human problems. As politicians, they are interested in, and get their rewards from people. As Thomas McIntyre said, "You shake the housewife's hand and she likes ya."