Hartford SHORTLY AFTER 11:00 P.M. on August 8, 2006, Joe Lieberman's decades-long political career reached a low point. That was when Lieberman took the stage inside the atrium at the Goodwin Hotel here to concede defeat in the Democratic primary to antiwar businessman Ned Lamont, who had won 52 percent to 48 percent. Lieberman, the three-term incumbent senator, was plainly frustrated. His face was lined. He frowned often. His family, friends, and loyal supporters were with him, but the prominent Connecticut Democrats who only hours before greeted visitors in the hotel lobby--including Senator Christopher Dodd--were nowhere to be found. Almost immediately, Lieberman came under pressure from prominent figures in his party, such as Democratic National Committee chairman Howard Dean and Massachusetts senator John Kerry, to step aside and allow Lamont to coast to victory on Election Day.
Times change. Today Lieberman, running as an independent, leads Lamont in poll after poll, usually by double digits. (In most polls the Republican in the race, Alan Schle singer, has the support of only 6 percent of respondents.) In fact, the striking thing about this general election campaign has been its lack of volatility. Lieberman has been leading by significant margins ever since primary night. An August 17 Quinnipiac University poll showed Lieberman beating Lamont among likely voters 53 percent to 41 percent. The most recent Quinnipiac poll shows Lieberman beating Lamont among likely voters 52 percent to 35 percent. Despite spending more than $12 million of his own money since entering the primary campaign, Lamont has been unable to close the gap.
For Lieberman, the turnaround began on primary night, when he rebuffed calls to withdraw and declared he would run as an independent. "I think the primary was a liberation," says Marshall Witt mann, a senior fellow at the centrist Democratic Leadership Council. "We saw the emergence of a new candidacy." Lieberman's concession speech, seen throughout the state live on the 11 o'clock news, was a blueprint for a campaign strategy based on reaching out to more conservative (and less antiwar) Democrats, sympathetic Republicans, and disaffected independents. "The old politics of partisan polarization won today," Lieberman said. In place of polarization Lieberman offered the electorate "a new politics of unity and purpose." Later on, he addressed voters directly. "I am confident that we can find common ground and secure a better future," he said. "That is exactly the mission I ask you to join me in tonight." Listening to Lieberman, you might have thought that the primary had never occurred.
It also helped Lieberman that Lamont seemed unable to confront the reality that, having won the primary, he would now have to win a general election in which not only Democrats vote. Lamont's August 8 victory speech was a wispy version of the speech he had delivered to great success among crowds of antiwar Democrats and the progressive bloggers who had done so much to promote his candidacy; it was not designed to appeal beyond his core supporters. "Stay the course: That's not a winning strategy in Iraq," La mont said. "And it's not a winning strategy in America." He called for universal health care and the withdrawal of troops from Iraq. Where Lieberman was ecumenical, Lamont was parochial: He specifically mentioned the debt he owed the Democratic "grassroots" and "netroots." And Lamont also erred in allowing two of the most polarizing figures in American politics, Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson, neither of whom is from Connecticut, to appear at his side.
It was a sudden role reversal. Lieberman, down but not out, had become the insurgent; Lamont, riding high, had become just another Democratic Senate nominee. After the primary, Lieberman returned to the stump with his new message and energy. Lamont retired to the family vacation home in Maine. Lieberman changed course and fired some on his campaign staff who had contributed to his loss. Lamont made no such changes. Lieberman brought on old hands like Dan Gerstein, who had served as communications director in his Capitol Hill office and in his 2004 presidential campaign but had not been involved in politics since. Lamont turned to David Sirota, a rising Democratic strategist and adviser to Montana governor Brian Schweitzer.
"I wouldn't say it's a commanding lead," Gerstein said last week, as he ate his lunch at Lieberman's campaign headquarters. What has brought vitality, resolve, and the advantage to Lieberman, Gerstein worries, may not be enough to bring voters to the polls on Election Day. Because he is the Democratic nominee, Lamont enjoys the party's institutional support and get-out-the-vote operation. Lieberman has no such structural advantage, though as of September 30, according to Political Money Line, he did have more cash on hand than Lamont. Another problem for Lieberman is that, as an independent, he will appear third on the ballot. Gerstein is concerned voters may not make it that far. He says the campaign plans a "major" voter education effort in these last days to ensure supporters know where Lieberman's name will appear.
Lamont draws his support from highly educated, affluent, antiwar professionals living along the coast and in the suburbs of New York City. These are typical Democratic voters. Lieberman's coalition is more unusual. It includes those Democrats who voted for him in the primary--lower-middle- to middle-class voters who are more conservative on social issues but support a progressive economic policy (i.e., higher taxes on the rich) and want a strong national defense. Gerstein estimates Lieberman draws support from about 35 percent of Connecticut Democrats.
Lieberman's advisers say that as long as he wins more than 30 percent of the Democratic vote, his reelection is almost assured. Which is where the rest of the Lieberman coalition enters the picture. Gerstein says that, because there is no strong Republican in the race, Lieberman--who despite his quirks is about as mainstream a Democrat as you are likely to find--enjoys support from about "65 to 70 percent" of Connecticut Republicans. Among independents, Gerstein estimates Lieberman draws 50 percent support. At a time when many voters are unhappy with the politics of the nation's capital, Lieberman is in an enviable position: A vote for him is both an expression of a desire to "change the way business is done" in Washington and a vote for an 18-year incumbent senator. Lieberman is a party of one. He is not a Republican. He is not a typical Democrat. And yet, because of his experience, he also is not a "risky" vote.
The Iraq war is unpopular in Connecticut, as it is throughout the country. While the Lieberman campaign believes the senator's continued support for the war has hurt his candidacy, the damage does not seem to have been fatal. The reason for this is something of a paradox. Voters may not approve of Lieberman's stance on Iraq, but they also see his steadfastness (or stubbornness) on the war as evidence of his integrity. You meet voters here who don't approve of President Bush's policy on Iraq but still "like Joe." They trust and respect him. He has their vote.
More than anything, Lieberman's perceived affinity for President Bush was responsible for his primary defeat. All summer long, Lamont supporters paraded around the state showing Democrats images of "the kiss": the infamous moment at the 2005 State of the Union when President Bush enthusiastically embraced Lieberman and pulled him in close. These days "the kiss" seems to resonate only with Lamont's most vocal advocates. Lieberman has done everything possible to point out those issues on which he and the president (and the president's party) differ. He campaigns alongside idiosyncratic Republicans like Jack Kemp and Sen. Susan Collins of Maine and New York City mayor Michael Bloomberg. Those Democrats with whom he campaigns--Sen. Mary Landrieu appeared in Connecticut last week--are more conventional representatives of their party and vocal critics of President Bush.
One day last week, former Democratic senator Bob Kerrey of Nebraska, now the president of the New School in New York, visited Hartford to show his support for Lieberman. The two participated in a panel on homeland security issues at the University of Connecticut School of Business here. For Lieberman, it was an opportunity to stress national security and the war on terror. It was a chance to attack Lamont for weakness and the administration for failing to live up to the task. And it was a moment to have some fun; a demonstration of how much has changed since summertime.
Kerrey was late to the panel. When he arrived, he greeted Lieberman with a warm hug. Lieberman didn't miss a beat. As they separated, he turned to some nearby reporters, pointed to Kerrey, and said, "I told him--no kisses."
Matthew Continetti is associate editor of THE WEEKLY STANDARD.