Michigan
Democrat Bart Stupak got fed up with the
mean-spiritedness of D.C.
[Photo by Melina Mara]
The elections are over. Bart Stupak did not run.
After nine terms in Congress, the Democratic
representative from Michigan’s 1st District is
walking away to the winter of his discontent, sadly
wondering what happened to the public service he
entered 18 years ago.
“It’s so hateful now,” says Stupak, 58. “My
colleagues tell me, ‘You look smarter every day for
leaving.’”
It’s wisdom he could do without. Bart Stupak may be
Exhibit A of Anger in American Politics. He has long
been pro-life. At the same time, he’s championed
health-care reform. This year, those two issues came
to a head. Stupak bucked his party over President
Obama’s health-care bill, concerned that abortions
might be publicly funded. Only when the president
promised an executive order forbidding such funding
did Stupak make the tough choice to vote with his
party.
After this, he was called a “baby killer” on the
House floor. A Republican colleague screamed those
words as Stupak spoke. Stupak was thrown into the
media’s hot spotlight. His family received death
threats. He took venom from both sides of the aisle.
A month later, he announced he was leaving
politics—even though he easily won his last
election. Stupak says he quit to spend time with his
family, but he will not miss the divisiveness.
“Every boundary of decency has been crossed,” he
says. “The ‘baby killer’ thing? Within 24 hours,
there were websites up designed to make money off
it. That’s how far afield we’ve gone. The more
personal you make the attack, the more money you can
make to defeat your opponent.”
Stupak sees no end to this pattern. “As much as
people say they don’t like negative campaigning, it
moves the numbers.”
When did we become so nasty? Former president Jimmy
Carter has suggested that we are more divided than
at any time since the Civil War. And between talk
radio, 24-hour TV and Internet news, and the
collapse of civility from town halls to the floors
of Congress, it’s hard to argue.
I ask Stupak if only the mean or thick-skinned will
now enter politics.
“Add one more element: the very rich,” he answers.
“So many good people would be proud to serve, but
they wind up saying, ‘If the other guy spends $3
million, what chance do I have?’ The most money and
the sharpest attacks tend to win.”
Stupak sighs. “Remember Mr. Smith Goes to
Washington? Those days are gone.”
And soon Stupak will be, too, leaving the nation’s
capital for the small town in Michigan’s Upper
Peninsula where he and his wife, Laurie, live. The
former Eagle Scout and police officer insists he
doesn’t regret his vote. But he looks forward to
quieter days.
“I’ll be home soon,” he says. “And if someone stops
me in the grocery store and starts yelling at me
over health care, I’ll just say I think it’s good
for the country and move on.”
Never mind if you disagree with his voting record.
What happened to Bart Stupak can happen to anyone
now—right or left. As a result, Mr. Smith no longer
dreams of going to Washington. He dreams of leaving
it. That cannot be good for America. The irony is
that at the end of the Frank Capra movie, Mr. Smith,
the senator played by Jimmy Stewart, becomes a
shining example of the difference one man can make.
Can we become real-life Mr. Smiths and change the
ugly tone of our national conversation?