http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/15702545/
>...Hoyer, by contrast, has cautioned against moving too quickly in Iraq, telling MSNBC-TV on Monday: "You can transfer authority to the Iraqis ... but we need to do so in a way, hopefully, that will not create greater carnage."
http://www.tnr.com/docprint.mhtml?i=20051226&s=crowley122605
The New Republic Online ON THE HILL Tug of War by Michael Crowley Post date: 12.26.05 Issue date: 12.26.05
[ Editor's Note: Now that Democrats have taken control of the House, the next question is: How will they exercise their power? And will ideological rifts--largely suppressed while the party languished in the minority--now boil to the surface? For a preview of what's in store for House Democrats, we reprint Michael Crowley's article from last year exploring the relationship between Speaker-to-be Nancy Pelosi and likely Majority Leader Steny Hoyer. "Superficially, House Democrats have stood fairly united since the 2004 election," Crowley writes. "But under the surface lie deep fissures between the caucus's liberal Pelosi faction and its moderate Hoyer faction--particularly over the Iraq war." ]
Most of the time, House Democrats can't get the press to pay attention to them. But there's nothing like a good fight over Iraq to get the cameras rolling. That's why, last Wednesday, a throng of reporters staked out a Capitol Hill meeting room where the House's Democratic caucus had convened to debate its increasingly obvious split over Iraq. A media advisory had promised that Democratic leaders would talk to the press at 10 a.m., after the meeting. But, as the clock ticked past the designated hour--20 minutes, then 30--the Cannon Caucus Room's heavy doors remained shut. Finally, they swung open, and out strode Dennis Kucinich, of all people. Seeming to relish a momentary return to the spotlight, the dovish ex-presidential candidate stepped to the microphones and declared dramatically: "The debate continues inside! We are trying to achieve unanimity!" But he apparently didn't expect to find it. Rather than return to the bull session, the diminutive representative grabbed his coat and disappeared down a nearby staircase.
A few minutes later, the doors opened again, and dozens of Democrats poured forth--many looking grim-faced. The resplendently attired minority leader, Nancy Pelosi, took to the microphones, accompanied by three other senior Democrats, and strained to present the meeting as a success. "We heard from many, many members of our caucus," she said. "And what we heard was a respect for our differing views on the subject of the timing of when we leave Iraq." In other words: no consensus.
That was hardly a surprise. Even the Democrats at the microphones couldn't agree. Standing beside Pelosi was her deputy, the garrulous silver-haired Democratic whip, Steny Hoyer of Maryland. Only the week before, Pelosi and Hoyer had delivered starkly divergent responses to Pennsylvania Democrat John Murtha's dramatic pre-Thanksgiving call for a rapid withdrawal from Iraq. Within days, Pelosi had endorsed Murtha's plan, while Hoyer released a statement warning of a national security "disaster" if U.S. troops exited too quickly. A just-published Washington Post story about how moderates like Hoyer were unhappy with Pelosi had everyone on edge. At a breakfast that very morning, Roll Call would later report, Hoyer had exchanged tense words with one of Pelosi's top confidantes, George Miller of California. Murtha, meanwhile, was making his irritation with Hoyer known to other members.
Just the sort of thing the press wanted to know about. With increasing agitation, Pelosi batted down questions about her differences with Hoyer--claiming, absurdly, to be unfamiliar with the specifics of her top deputy's widely discussed statement. "I was busy last week," Pelosi said curtly. "I don't know the context in which he made that statement." As for Hoyer, he dashed off before the questioning began. Like an unhappily married couple, Hoyer and Pelosi find dodging questions a lot easier than discussing their problems with each other.
Superficially, House Democrats have stood fairly united since the 2004 election. But under the surface lie deep fissures between the caucus's liberal Pelosi faction and its moderate Hoyer faction--particularly over the Iraq war. Until recently, however, Pelosi had kept a low profile on the war--presumably aware that her Bay Area-liberal image goes over in rural swing districts about as well as erotic performance art. "She has been personally very skeptical of Iraq from the get-go and I think in the interest of the broader caucus has put aside her own strong views and tried to keep the caucus unified," says Adam Schiff, a moderate Democrat from California. That's why some Democrats were stunned that she so conspicuously embraced Murtha's withdrawal plan earlier this month. To some Democrats, Pelosi should have let Murtha remain in the lead. "Murtha was clearly the key messenger on this," says a former House Democratic leadership aide. Now the Murtha plan can also be called the Pelosi plan, with all the culturo-political baggage that entails.
But the dynamics of Pelosi's world made keeping mum impossible--even if it meant alienating moderates like Hoyer. For months, she has faced rising pressure on several fronts. Within the caucus, there is her emboldened liberal base, including the 70 members of the House's Out of Iraq Caucus, who increasingly believe they speak for the public. "They stand up in meetings saying the American people want to get out," says a senior House Democratic aide. (Never mind that polls show the public still values success over withdrawal.) When she ran for leader in 2002, Pelosi promised to draw clearer distinctions with Republicans, and that's what her liberal allies expect. "The American people are thirsty for Democrats to offer an alternative on Iraq, and I would argue that it's a dereliction of our responsibility not to provide one," says Florida Representative Robert Wexler. Pelosi is also strongly influenced by her highly liberal inner circle. In addition to her top confidant, the combative Miller, others with Pelosi's ear include Rosa DeLauro of New Haven; Anna Eshoo of Palo Alto; and Jan Schakowsky, a fiery crusader from Chicago's upscale Lakefront area. All are critical of the war.
Perhaps even more relevant is what Pelosi hears outside of Washington. Liberal donors on the fund-raising circuit constantly tell her that Democrats are timid on Iraq. "She's been catching a lot of heat on the road," says the senior House aide. Pelosi has even been taking flak in her district for her relatively low profile on Iraq. "Pelosi has played it safe, placing politics and fund-raising over policy and conscience," charged a May 2005 letter in The San Francisco Chronicle. Another fumed that "Pelosi does accept our illegal invasion and our continued occupation of a country whose people want us out. I find it difficult to accept that she speaks for San Francisco to the world." Last month, one vituperative antiwar blogger declared her the "Shame of San Francisco." Says a House Democratic leadership aide, "You've got our base saying, 'Where the hell have you been? You've got no spine.'"
For Hoyer, maintaining his centrist, give-war-a-chance position has been far easier. One reason is his district: Whereas President Bush tallied just 15 percent in Pelosi's backyard, he pulled 42 percent in Hoyer's. Hoyer's base of House support, meanwhile, consists largely of the 80 or so Democrats who voted for the Iraq war resolution and who supported Pelosi's main rival in the 2002 leader's race: Martin Frost of Texas. Frost, who has since retired, was a pro-gun Iraq war supporter who insisted that House Democrats must moderate their image--especially on national security--if they hoped to win conservative swing districts and retake the House. Since Frost's exit, Hoyer, who also supported the war, has carried the moderates' torch. Earlier this year, for instance, Hoyer huddled with 15 like-minded House moderates--including such hawks as Ike Skelton of Missouri, Jane Harman of California, and John Spratt of South Carolina--to develop a national security strategy meant in part to show that House Democrats take the issue seriously. And, while his overall voting record is fairly liberal, Hoyer is also much closer than Pelosi to big business and K Street lobbyists; he has split with her on recent free-trade votes and on bankruptcy reform.
The differences between Pelosi and Hoyer are stylistic as well as ideological. Pelosi likes to crusade for grand moral causes--be it aids policy in the 1980s or China's human rights record in the 1990s or Iraq now. Hoyer is more of a pragmatic, old-school politico. "Steny is almost a caricature of a politician," says a senior House Democratic staffer. "He's always schmoozing." Pelosi is an awkward public speaker prone to malapropisms. (Last week, she referred to defending America's "nuclear, biological, and chemical plants." Biological?) Hoyer, by contrast, delights in having an audience, and he often invites reporters to his office for long bull sessions.
But the Hoyer-Pelosi relationship is perhaps most defined by rivalry. In 2001, Pelosi defeated Hoyer in a hard-fought race for Democratic whip, during which they clashed about the ideological face of the caucus. The friction has never quite cooled. While Pelosi cuts a sunny public profile--always dressed to the nines and flashing a radiant smile--Democrats say she runs a tough, even paranoid, political machine with a vengeful disposition toward current and former adversaries. This has been particularly true of Frost and his backers: Frost supporters have been passed over for key committee assignments, and precious few are included in important leadership and political-strategy discussions. Pelosi has also effectively exiled Frost himself from the Democratic political arena. She openly opposed his recent bid for Democratic National Committee chairman. And, when a major liberal interest group recently proposed to hire Frost for a key position, according to one source, Pelosi sent word that she wouldn't work with him.
Pelosi has no choice but to work with Hoyer. But she doesn't always like it. In April, for instance, she blew up at the whip after he and 71 other moderates defected to vote for the Republican-backed bankruptcy-reform bill. Pelosi effectively accused Hoyer of selling out to his corporate donors. Moderates, noting that they'd voted for virtually the same bill several times in past years--and would look foolish if they switched now--were appalled. "She seems to thrive on conflict," says a former House Democratic leadership aide. "When she wins a leadership race, she never stops running against that person. She beat Steny, but she has never stopped punishing him for running in the first place."
The Pelosi camp downplays any rift. "They're not best friends," the current leadership aide says. "But I don't think she goes after anybody who disagrees with her." When asked about her relationship with Hoyer, however, Pelosi tends to look like she's sucking a lemon. "She gets stiff and reticent to say anything nice," as one Hoyer backer puts it. Sure enough, at a recent press conference, Pelosi replied frostily to a question about their relationship. "It's fine," she snapped through a steely smile. "Mr. Hoyer and I go way back. ... And I do not understand why you are making such a big issue of this."
The Pelosi-Hoyer rivalry may next play out in proxy-war fashion in a race for Democratic caucus vice chair. The current front-runner is New York Representative Joseph Crowley, one of Hoyer's top allies. Democrats are watching to see how much weight Pelosi throws behind another candidate, her friend Schakowsky. The position itself is fairly meaningless, but its outcome could be symbolic for Pelosi--especially if she fears, as some suspect, that Hoyer might someday challenge her position as House leader. That becomes more likely if House Democrats don't meet soaring expectations in the 2006 midterm elections.
Meanwhile, House moderates are in the process of reasserting themselves on Iraq. A group that includes Hoyer, led by Californian Ellen Tauscher, is drafting a set of principles about Iraq policy. Although it calls for a substantial phased troop withdrawal, the document implicitly favors stability in Iraq over exiting, and it could serve as a counterpoint to the Murtha plan for moderate Democratic House candidates. But some moderates fear the damage has been done. "Nancy can raise money, there ain't no question about that," says one moderate House Democrat allied with Hoyer. "But, as far as sophisticated political acumen and political skills, it's just not there." Unfortunately, for Democrats, neither is an easy reconciliation for this feuding couple. Michael Crowley is a senior editor at The New Republic.