April 23, 2003
FITZGERALD'S RETIREMENT IS PROFILE IN INEPTITUDE

ANALYSIS & OPINION BY RUSS STEWART

He will be remembered in Illinois' political history as either "Senator Fitzchicken" or "Senator Fitzcheap," or perhaps as Senator "Fitzcheapchicken."

How could somebody who spent $12 million of his own money to win a much-coveted U.S. Senate seat, defeating Democratic incumbent Carol Moseley-Braun in 1998 by 98,545 votes (with 50.3 percent of the total), decide to quit after just one term? That's a major financial investment and political achievement. But Peter Fitzgerald, Illinois' first-term Republican, is doing just that.

And the reason is glaringly obvious: Fitzgerald is afraid that he's going to lose in 2004, so he doesn't want to blow another $12 million of his fortune on a dubious pursuit. The likes of Fitzgerald's timidity, coupled with his political ineptitude in not stockpiling cash donations from special interest groups, hasn't been seen in Illinois since the 1920s, when one-term Illinois senators were the norm.

How could an incumbent senator, from the Senate's majority party, with a Republican in the White House, not have learned the secrets of raising and running on other people's money? Mega-wealthy, self-funded candidates like Fitzgerald may spend their own money on their first campaign, but once elected they can reposition themselves, and thereafter raise and spend other people's money on their re-election bid. Oregon's Republican U.S. Senator Gordon Smith did it; he ran in the January 1996 special election to replace Bob Packwood, and spent $2 million of his own money, losing by 18,220 votes. When Oregon's other seat opened later that year, Smith ran again, but on the condition that he would not spend any of his own money. He and the state party raised $3.5 million, and he won.

Fitzgerald should have made a similar declaration after this 1998 victory. But he didn't, and everybody assumed that Fitzgerald, the heir to a banking fortune, would self-fund in 2004. Donors, however, do give money to non-self-funding millionaire politicians. After 5 years in office, Fitzgerald's campaign fund had $707,000 on hand as of December 31, 2002. That's pathetic. He should have raised that amount every year. Among the other freshmen in the Senate class of 1998, New York's Chuck Schumer had $13.6 million on hand, Kentucky's Jim Bunning had $1 million, Indiana's Evan Bayh had $4 million, and Ohio's George Voinovich had $2.4 million.

Instead of bemoaning the fact that Illinois is becoming an increasingly Democratic state, and grousing that he "could not be a father and senator" while he spent the next year as a candidate, Fitzgerald should have become a fundraising machine from day one, like Schumer, raising vast amounts of cash. If he came into 2003 with $5 million in the bank and with the capacity to self-fund another $10 million, his prospects of victory would have been reasonable.

But Fitzgerald's lame excuse was that he was never "sure that he wanted to run for re-election," so he didn't exert any effort to raise money. That's like competing in the Olympic trials to earn a place at the Olympics, but not being sure whether you want to compete once you get there.

The common perception in Washington was that Fitzgerald's 1998 election was a fluke and that he could not win re-election. In order to raise money from special interests in both the capital and Illinois, Fitzgerald needed to build a counter- argument, which could have been along these lines:

First, Illinois quite regularly elects a senator on a fluke, but then voters usually warm to him and re-elect him overwhelmingly. A "fluke" is considered to be winning when political observers thought it to be impossible at the beginning of the campaign. In the last 55 years, Illinois has had some stupendous flukes:

In 1948 Democrat Paul Douglas, an obscure Hyde Park alderman, wanted to run for governor, but Democratic bosses chose Adlai Stevenson. So they shunted Douglas to the Senate race against well known Republican incumbent Wayland Brooks, expecting he would lose. This was the election in which Republican Tom Dewey snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. Harry Truman swept Illinois, and Douglas and Stevenson won. Douglas was re-elected in 1954 and 1960, but he lost in 1966.

In 1950 Republican Everett Dirksen was an obscure, retired Downstate congressman. The incumbent senator was Scott Lucas, then the Senate's powerful majority leader . . . and a presumed cinch for re-election. But scandals rocked the Democrats in Cook County, and Republicans swept the state. Dirksen won in a mammoth upset, and he was re-elected in 1956, 1962 and 1968, serving as the Senate minority leader from 1959 until his death in 1969.

In 1966 Douglas was an early favorite to win. But the Vietnam War and Lyndon Johnson's unpopularity allowed Republican Chuck Percy to score a huge upset. Percy was re-elected in 1972 and 1978 but lost to Paul Simon in 1984.

In 1992 Democratic incumbent Alan Dixon appeared well on his way to a third term, but he was foiled by Clarence Thomas and Al Hofeld. Dixon voted to put Thomas on the Supreme Court, infuriating women's groups and liberals, and Hofeld spent almost $10 million of his own money attacking Dixon. Moseley-Braun ran, and in the "Year of the Woman," she topped the primary with 38 percent of the vote, to 35 percent for Dixon and 27 percent for Hofeld.

Fitzgerald had 5 years to dispel his "fluke" image, but he never really tried. Now it's attached to him forever.

And second, a loss by Fitzgerald's in 2004 was not a foregone conclusion. It is rare, but not unprecedented, for an incumbent senator to, in boxing parlance, "step out of the ring" when the foe is too imposing. Indiana's Dan Coats did it in 1998, when he knew he would lose to Democrat Evan Bayh, a former governor; Virginia's Paul Trible did it in 1998, when he knew he would lose to Democrat Chuck Robb, a former governor; and South Dakota's James Abourezk did it in 1978, when he knew he would lose to Republican Larry Pressler, a congressman.

But there was no proverbial 800-pound gorilla among the 2004 Illinois Democratic field. Fitzgerald's most recent poll showed him besting every Democrat, but only by margins in the realm of 45-38 percent. Any incumbent who polls less than 50 percent is in grave danger, but the election is still 18 months away. A $5 million media buy by Fitzgerald over the summer and early autumn of 2003 certainly would have propelled him into the lower 50 percent range. Another $5 million buy in the months after the primary, going heavily negative on the Democratic nominee, would have kept the Democrat in the lower 40 percent range. And then a last $5 million buy in the autumn of 2004, touting Fitzgerald's accomplishments, would have sealed the deal.

Remember, until next March, Democrats will be spending all their time and money attacking each other, ignoring Fitzgerald. Incumbents such as New York's Al D'Amato (in 1992) and North Carolina's Jesse Helms (in 1984) lagged way behind their foes a year out from the election, but they spent large sums, ran negative campaigns, and won. Fitzgerald could have done likewise -- if he was willing to spend $15 million of his own money. Obviously, he is not.

So what is Fitzgerald's legacy? He says that it's his "fight against corruption." Fitzgerald was among the first Illinois Republicans to call for George Ryan's resignation. But he never crafted a tangible persona or reputation with the electorate, never built a personal political or financial organization, and never was part of U.S. House Speaker Dennis Hastert's "Team Illinois" in Washington.

Fitzgerald's legacy is that he is a one-term wonder who sailed almost un-noticed through Washington, leaving no footprints. He will be quickly forgotten.

Since the advent of popular elections for senator in 1912, Illinois has had a total of 21 senators, of whom five were defeated after their first term and three, including, Fitzgerald, served a term and quit. So Fitzgerald ranks right up there in that undistinguished, unremembered group with Moseley-Braun; Democrat William Dieterich (elected in 1932, defeated by Lucas in the 1938 primary); Republican Otis Glenn (elected in 1928, defeated in 1932); Republican Charles Deneen (elected in 1924, defeated in 1930); Republican William McKinley (elected in 1920, retired in 1926); and Republican Medill McCormick (elected in 1918, retired in 1924). An exception to this group is Democrat James Hamilton Lewis, who was elected in 1912 and defeated in 1918, but who redeemed himself by being elected again in 1930 and 1936.

Fitzgerald had the potential to be a Republican star. Instead, he's a 42-year old has-been whose departure is cheered by Republicans, not mourned.