All talk but little action by Congress on the war

Motion may set the stage for real constraints

Sunday, February 18, 2007

Whereas the House of Representatives set aside 26 hours last week to "debate" a troop surge in Iraq, and whereas the speeches of hundreds of members echoed over an almost empty chamber, and whereas nobody besides C-Span cameramen watched it all, and whereas probably even they nodded off, and whereas the vast majority of Americans can't distinguish between a "joint resolution" and a "concurrent resolution," therefore be it resolved: To endeavor to explain in this article the point of all this, considering the resolution has no legal effect whatsoever.

You may recall that in 2002 Congress voted to authorize President Bush to use force in Iraq. That meant something -- as a joint resolution, it carried the force of law.

But the 97-word resolution passed by Democrats and some Republicans -- a "sense of the Congress" that members support our troops but "disapprove" of Bush's surge of more than 20,000 reinforcements -- is what's called a "concurrent resolution." And whatever significance it has symbolically, legally, it means zip. It says "Mr. President, here in the Congress we're thinking this surge of yours is a big goof, and we've voted to say so, you know, just in case you -- or anyone else -- were wondering what we were thinking."

The president said he wouldn't waste time watching the sessions on C-Span, however, telling the cable channel: "I mean, it's not as if the world stops when the Congress does their duty. I already know what the debate is."

Congress resorts to concurrent resolutions on scores of important issues -- recently, for example, paying tribute to the "character-building" Miss America pageant, Sigma Alpha Epsilon fraternity, Boy Scout jamborees and National Horticultural Therapy Week.

One resolution supported naming a Missouri courthouse after Rush Limbaugh's grandfather, and another expressed the sense of Congress that Harriet Tubman should have been paid a pension for her work as a nurse during the Civil War. My favorite had Congress weighing in about who actually composed the lyrics to "Yankee Doodle Dandy".

This past week the House turned to Iraq. As the talkathon got under way, Arizona Republican Rep. John Shadegg's delusional declaration -- "The world is watching every word that is being said on this floor" -- proved beyond a doubt why C-Span is no reality show.

As political theater, however, there were artful moments. Minority Leader John Boehner of Ohio began to weep as fellow GOP Rep. Sam Johnson of Texas talked about how when he was a Vietnam prisoner of war, "our captors would blare horrible recordings over the loudspeaker of Americans protesting back home," and he vowed to "fight to ensure America never lets our troops down in harm's way again."

And it was a choice moment of irony when GOP Rep. Todd Akin of Missouri argued, "Could you picture Davy Crockett at the Alamo looking at his BlackBerry, getting a message from Congress: 'Davy Crockett, we support you. The only thing is we are not going to send any troops'?" Actually, Crockett led the "surge" at the Alamo -- it didn't end well.

Democrats front-loaded their speaking slots with members who are military veterans, while pushing their Dennis Kuciniches well past the dinner hour. They were joined by some Republicans, such as conservative Florida Rep. Ric Keller, who said a troop surge had already failed in Baghdad: "The benefits were temporary; the body bags were permanent."

The resolution's opponents were left to make two contradictory arguments: it was a meaningless charade, and it sent an ominous message of American fickleness to embolden the enemy.

Even supporters of the resolution acknowledged it was underwhelming. Democratic Rep. Charles Rangel of New York said that when people asked what they did to stop the tragedy, "you would be able to say, 'There was a resolution. It may not have been a profile in courage, but I supported it, and I am proud that I did.' "

"Big deal," retorted an editorial in the St. Louis Post Dispatch. "In Washington, Congress continues to talk. In Baghdad, U.S. soldiers continue to die."

Many observers were similarly skeptical, regardless of ideology. From historians to bloggers, they critiqued the House debate as a wind tunnel of oratory. Kucinich argued for a funding cutoff, saying, "The war is binding; the resolution is not." Neoconservative Bill Kristol labeled resolution proponents "Boneless Wonders."

The real purpose of the nonbinding resolution was to get Democrats out of a bind: allowing them to register opposition to the war without opening themselves up to charges they abandoned the troops by cutting funding. Their strategy was in sync with an AP-Ipsos poll released Friday, which showed a majority of Americans think the Iraq war is hopeless, only 38 percent want to cut money for the surge, and 29 percent want to pull the plug on all war funding.

Of course, sometimes symbolism matters a great deal. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi said the resolution "sets the stage" for real constraints, and it may yet prove to be a pivotal episode. The real show-me-the-money moment may come next month, with Rep. John Murtha's plan to restrict the time soldiers and Marines can spend in Iraq and require no new troop deployments until they're well trained and equipped.

The Senate, which has three times failed to pass its own resolution about the surge, is rushing to re-debate how to debate a resolution. By comparison, the House looks boldly decisive.

Vicki Haddock, Insight Staff Writer

E-mail Vicki Haddock at vhaddock@sfchronicle.com.