From Philadephia Inquirer, 28 February 2006
Culture of careerism scuttled a political bid
By Paul Hackett
When I got back from Iraq last year on March 18 after a seven-month
combat tour with the First Marine Division in exotic cities like
Ramadi and Fallujah, my wife arranged for a small group of friends and
family to meet me at the Cincinnati airport. There, a good friend told
me that U.S. Rep. Rob Portman (R., Ohio) was about to resign and that
I should run for the seat in southwest Ohio where I live and grew up.
At first I thought he was kidding.
But as I stood there in my desert utilities, tears running down my
cheeks, my wife next to me, one kid on each leg and one in my arms for
the first time in almost eight months, I thought of my service in
Iraq, and the idea made sense. Service in Congress, as I saw it, would
be a natural extension of service to my country in Iraq.
It has taken me 11 months to finally make it home from that scene at
the airport. What I learned in the process is that, even though I'm a
big Bruce Springsteen fan, I was not born to run. Serve yes, run for
office no.
Somewhere along the way I became something I'm not: a political rock
star. But I only wanted to help my country.
While I didn't win the special election for the House seat, democracy
triumphed. For the first time in more than two decades, Second
District voters had a real choice.
I was OK with the voters choosing my opponent, Jean Schmidt, and happy
to head back to my private life. Our campaign invigorated the
Democrats in a state where the party had fallen on hard times. With
the special election, we began to believe our party could return to
brighter days by returning to our roots: limited government, fiscal
responsibility, strong national defense, and fair trade. Think of the
party of FDR that with its blood, sweat and sacrifice fought to forge
a 20th-century world-leading nation.
After the special election, the phone kept ringing, and I was soon
being recruited to run against U.S. Sen. Mike DeWine, a two-term
Republican incumbent, by Senate Minority Leader Harry Reid (D., Nev.)
and Sen. Chuck Schumer (D., N.Y.), the party's point man for this
year's Senate races. I was flattered, but I really did want to get
back home, literally and figuratively. After seven months in Iraq
followed by five months on the campaign trail, I had a good life
waiting for me.
The calls kept coming. Schumer and Reid said, "Your country needs
you." We Marines take service to country seriously. Leadership,
service, commitment.
Their wives called my wife with the same message. Several "career
politicians" looked at this race and declined to take on DeWine,
including my eventual primary opponent, U.S. Rep. Sherrod Brown.
Despite the odds, I was willing to take up the challenge.
For me the Senate race was another opportunity to serve my country and
my party. Maybe together we could turn the corner. Maybe I could help
the Democratic Party become a new and vibrant party. Maybe I could
help lead us back to the party that doesn't simply aspire to deliver
greatness but the party that actually has the commitment, leadership
and will to fight for what it believes in: peace, prosperity and the
freedoms that define America.
In the end it wasn't meant to be, and I was confronted with the clash
between my culture of service, commitment and leadership, and the
politicians' culture of careerism.
Was I screwed? Maybe, but that's life. There were a lot of political
machinations, mostly behind the scenes. Much made its way into the
press, including an ugly whisper campaign regarding my service in Iraq
perpetrated by Brown. Brown has denied this, but county party chairmen
told me about the rumors and where they were coming from. Brown had
initially told me he would support my Senate campaign but then changed
his mind. Again, a clash of cultures. That's politics. But that's not
me. My word is my bond.
Schumer and Reid, the guys who said my country needs me, had a change
of heart. There was never any explanation given. Schumer, in
particular, actively sought to undermine my insurgent campaign, in
part by calling up my donors and telling them not to raise money for
me, which is like a doctor cutting off oxygen to a patient. He also
worked through others to get state and local politicians to publicly
urge me to quit.
Again, that's politics. Was it worth it? You bet. In less than 11
months, we changed the debate on Iraq, inspired at least 11 other Iraq
vets and countless non-vets to run for Congress, and invigorated a
state Democratic Party to believe in itself again.
Now let's all believe again, in the promise of America, the last great
hope for peace, equality and freedom.