Dole’s spirit of compromise

Robert J. Dole—war hero, senator, presidential candidate, Kansan—has died, at the age of 98. We offer condolences to his wife, Elizabeth, his family, and the many friends and colleagues he met over a full lifetime of service to his country.

We didn’t always agree with Bob Dole’s politics. He usually didn’t agree with us. But there can be no doubt the Russell native will be remembered as a titan of 20th-century American government, and as one of the most important political figures in Kansas history.

At the same time, Dole’s legacy extends beyond his many accomplishments in Washington, or his résumé. He remains important in our time. His tireless effort to find common ground with political opponents is more critical today than it was when he left elected office in the 1990s.

In April 1945, Dole’s unit engaged the enemy on an Italian hilltop. A fierce battle left Dole grievously hurt, with internal injuries, a shattered shoulder and a permanently disabled arm. He barely survived.

The wounded veteran returned to the United States, where he began a grueling four-year struggle to regain his health. Famously, friends and neighbors in Russell passed a cigar box to help pay for his care. Experimental medicine and a series of operations aided the wounded veteran.

Dole’s war injuries deeply informed his life in public service. Through his rehabilitation, and setbacks, he developed an iron will, a sometimes caustic sense of humor—and an understanding that no one truly walks alone in this world. Sometimes you need help.

“I had a more optimistic view of the human race,” he later wrote. “Having benefited from an extraordinary outpouring of affection and support, how could I feel otherwise?”

At times, Dole’s optimism could be hard to find. As his career developed—state representative, county attorney, the U.S. House, the Senate—Dole’s reputation for sometimes heated partisanship grew. He was called a “hatchet man,” a caricature that, like all caricatures, contained a stubborn grain of truth.

He barely won his 1974 Senate re-election campaign, leaning on a controversial anti-abortion commercial to prevail. Two years later, some Republicans blamed Dole’s “Democrat wars” debate wisecrack for Gerald Ford’s presidential defeat in 1976.

Dole’s 1980 presidential campaign collapsed quickly. But the seeds of his greatest days had been planted.

The Kansas senator, more than any other single person, was responsible for the tax cuts of 1981, the 1980s rescue of Social Security and the myriad smaller accomplishments of Ronald Reagan’s terms in office.

He was, for a time, the most influential man in Washington. “People had real problems!” journalist Richard Ben Cramer wrote, explaining Dole’s thoughts at the time. “Government had to respond.”

Dole’s support for the food stamp program was legendary, and essential. He worked to protect the disabled. As Senate majority leader, he shepherded the massive immigration reform act of 1986.

He helped create the national holiday honoring Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. “To those who would worry about cost, I would suggest they hurry back to their pocket calculators and estimate the cost of 300 years of slavery,” he said at the time.

In all of this, the senator worked harder than anyone, and always—always—believed a deal could be found. Almost always, he found it.

Yet Dole’s party was changing, even then, in ways few recognized. Dole’s obsession with excessive federal red ink and solid accomplishment was giving way to the cultural anti-government conservatism of Newt Gingrich and others.

We remember the man who worked as a private citizen to honor fellow World War II veterans. We think of the man who tried to extend disability protections to the world.

But his example remains with us, if we listen closely for the voice of Kansas’ favorite son, his words a reminder of what our nation used to be, and might be again.

“The American people are looking at us,” he said in his final Senate speech. “And they want us to tell the truth.”