Foster: Ted Kennedy, paradoxes and partisanship

America bid its final farewell Saturday to U.S. Sen. Edward Kennedy.

The youngest Sen. Kennedy had much in common with his slain brothers: He was able to use his passion to advance American liberalism. But every obituary I have seen this week has portrayed him as a human paradox: A gifted politician who led a tormented life.

There were paradoxes all around Kennedy: He was able to affect positive change on dozens of issues critical to the country — advances in civil rights, mental health, education and cancer research policy are among them — but throughout his life and in varying degrees over the decades, he fought his personal demons in a public way. He enjoyed consistent, collegial friendships with Republican Senate colleagues over the decades, but his beliefs made him, just as consistently, one of their strongest fundraising tools. He was a stalwart defender of the feminist agenda; his support for the Equal Rights Amendment and abortion rights was legendary. But the fate of one woman in his company one night at Chappaquiddick was enough to keep him from achieving the presidency that was the biggest political dream of his life.

Even his fellow Democrats created a paradox around Kennedy after his death. Not 24 hours after he died, and even as a bipartisan chorus of lawmakers praised his ability to forge legislative alliances across the aisle, Democratic leaders politicized his passing: They coalesced around a Kennedy-supported effort to circumvent a Massachusetts state law requiring a special election, not a gubernatorial appointment, to fill the state’s mid-term U.S. Senate vacancies and began using his name as a rallying cry to bolster legislative support for the flagging health care overhaul.
As I marked Kennedy’s death and acknowledged his career on my blog and in social media this week, I reflected on another paradox: How a man who had become one of the GOP rank and file’s worst political bogeymen could be mourned by his Republican colleagues in the Senate.

That got me thinking, once again, about the disappointing lack of respect that so many folks have for each other in political debate.

As Americans, we have a common interest in the adoption of effective, efficient public policy at all levels of government. It saddens and frustrates me that, in spite of that undeniable common interest, we will not allow ourselves to advance beyond the lowest common denominator-style debate that has plagued our politics for nearly 20 years.

What is it about Washington that enables our lawmakers to engage in such bruising policy battles, and yet retain friendships, even in close political combat and over long periods of time? As citizens, we are far removed from the inner workings and relieved of the weight of having to deal with the process every day. Shouldn’t we have the ability to establish a mature level of political dialogue with our ideological opponents?

Just about every TV talking head has described Kennedy’s death as “the end of an era.” I said on the blog this week that as the brother of one president and the brother of another might-have-been president, both of whom were brutally assassinated before the eyes of the world, Ted Kennedy was a unique link between the country our nation has become and what it will never be again.

But the end of the Camelot era shouldn’t mean the end of respectful, if fiery, public policy debate.

Republican strategist Rich Galen put it this way in his column titled, “Kennedy: A Flawed Force:” “Ted Kennedy is a good object lesson for something I’ve preached for years: We can be passionate political opponents without being mortal enemies.”

Yes, we can.

Jennifer Foster is a political enthusiast who lives in Auburn. She can be reached at