VICKSBURG - Mississippi has a tradition of playing the system to the hilt. That's why when Trent Lott calmly said he'd seek another six years in the U.S. Senate, there was an almost-audible sigh of relief statewide.
The "system" is seniority. Little states need it in Washington. We need it bad.
That we have a two-chambered federal legislature is supposed to help. There were large and small states back in the 1780s, too. If the designers of the central government based legislative seats on population, the big states could bully the little ones. If every state got an equal number of seats, then little states could hold more sway than they deserved. So, two lawmaking bodies - an apportioned House and a two-per-each Senate - with new laws requiring approval by both. Balance.
But the bigger factor has been seniority. The longer a person serves in either chamber, the greater the clout.
For Mississippi, Eastland and Stennis and Whitten and Montgomery were driving forces most of the last century and now, in the Senate, Thad Cochran and Lott - who will have served about 40 years in Congress by the end of his next term - are bearing fruit as a consequence of what they are: Long-term investments by this state's voters.
Back around Christmas, some observers weighed Lott's record and what they perceive as his personality and concluded he simply could not walk away after three terms in the Senate. They dismissed hints of his pending retirement as inconsistent with a demonstrated affinity for being in the thick of national events - a player. "He can't let go," was the thinking. "He's been a somebody for so long that the thought of being a nobody is completely alien."
These folks may feel vindicated now that Lott said he wants a fourth term. But there may be more to the situation than meets the eye, too.
In Congress, Lott has lost some, won some. That's part of the process.
But what happened in 2002 was personal - intensely personal - and it left scars that will be with him every day for the rest of his life. It didn't kill him, though, so as the saying goes it may have made him smarter.
December of that year was, of course, the month when legendary Sen. Strom Thurmond, R-S.C., hit 100 years and Lott, as Senate majority leader, showed up for the party.
"I want to say this about my state," a jovial Lott intoned. "When Strom Thurmond ran for president we voted for him. We're proud of it. And if the rest of the country had of followed our lead we wouldn't have had all these problems over all these years, either."
The national press taped the event and not much was initially made of the comment about Thurmond's failed 1948 bid for the White House as a "Dixiecrat."
But this thing called "blogging" was beginning to fire up on the Internet. Within days a full-fledged frenzy was under way. People who'd never heard of a Dixiecrat assumed (correctly) the party must have believed in segregation and therefore Lott, who was 6 years old when Thurmond ran, has seriously proclaimed the civil rights movement the source of America's woes.
It's not what he said. It's not what he meant. It was, at worst, insensitive. But Trent Lott's strength has been on offense. On defense, he looked like a deer in the headlights.
The senator begins his 2005 memoir talking about the morning of Dec. 20 when TV crews were camped out at his Pascagoula residence. He'd decided he wouldn't seek the post of majority leader again, and he sent his wife, Tricia, out to deliver a written statement to that effect. The press - which he, like all politicians, has loved during his peaks and loathed during his valleys - wouldn't go away until he made the statement in person.
In "Herding Cats: A Life in Politics," Lott writes about being a broker for major legislation - working back channels with Bill Clinton for welfare reform and such - but he also shows how hurt he was at being so quickly set adrift by fellow Republicans, including President Bush, for what he calls "the 40 words."
Has Lott forged some kind of a deal for his decision which, in essence, may well preserve his party's Senate majority? If so, who cares? That's Beltway talk.
It will be the practical aspect that counts here. Democrats say they'll mount a serious challenge, but, as in the past, Mississippians will vote their own self-interest.
Seniority works for this state. Voters know it.
