Senate's Iraq Debate Is More Slumber Than Party

For the first quorum call, at the civilized hour of 8:30 p.m., nine of the 100 senators were missing. By the midnight call, 22 were gone. At the 5:15 a.m. check, 40 were AWOL, including 13 Democrats. Technically, the Senate sergeant-at-arms had the power to seize the absent senators and haul them into the chamber -- but nobody wanted to see Robert Byrd (D-W.Va.) carried in wearing a nightcap and union suit.

Democrats tried to keep things interesting, passing a large sign with a flag motif demanding "Let Us Vote." But the talk on the floor quickly devolved into the sort of repetition associated with a telethon. "It's time to stop filibustering," Bob Menendez (D-N.J.) proposed to his weary colleagues. Tom Coburn (R-Okla.) put his chin on his fist. "None of the benchmarks were met," Menendez asserted. A GOP aide yawned. "The president took our focus away from Afghanistan." Johnny Isakson (R-Ga.) rubbed his eyes. "That dog won't hunt." Dick Durbin (D-Ill.) sank into his chair and stroked his brow.

By the time Tom Harkin (D-Iowa) inherited the "Let Us Vote" baton after 1 a.m., there were only three senators in the chamber with the presiding officer, Claire McCaskill (D-Mo.). McCaskill appeared to be napping until closer inspection revealed that she was studying a BlackBerry in her lap. Coleman stifled a yawn.

With so much of the debate a rehash, some opted to debate the late-night debate itself.

"There's no need to do the all-night gig," ventured Christopher Bond (R-Mo.).

But Ken Salazar (D-Colo.) spoke of the value of "watching the night come, watching the sun rise here in Washington."

Either way, newcomer John Barrasso (R-Wyo.) didn't mind. As "a trauma surgeon, I'm used to getting up at this hour and working at all unusual hours," he said just after 5 a.m.

While a few senators kept some semblance of a debate going on the floor, other parts of the Senate apparatus nodded off. The parking lots emptied. The basement cafeteria closed. The elevator boy paced idly. The Senate subways came and went without passengers. The most active figures in the Capitol were the antiwar demonstrators who, after hours outside at a rally, formed a pungent line to enter the public gallery.

In the wee hours, John McCain (R-Ariz.) walked alone toward the Senate chamber. "I'm going to speak all night," he vowed with determination.

"I'm going to bed," a reporter told the senator.

"You won't miss a thing," McCain assured.