By Paul Kane
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Sen. Frank Lautenberg (D-N.J.) gathered his Democratic lieutenants around the dinner table inside his Ritz-Carlton condo in Washington last fall to ask their support for his Senate reelection campaign. Instead of a fancy, catered spread, the self-made multimillionaire ordered takeout Chinese food from his favorite spot, Meiwah.
A handful of the Democrats at the table, including Rep. Robert E. Andrews, had hoped that the 84-year-old Lautenberg was preparing to retire and give a younger House member a shot at one of New Jersey's few statewide offices. But their ambition -- for that night and the next six years -- was set aside by the time they cracked open the fortune cookies. Two weeks later, Andrews and the six other House Democrats at the dinner publicly declared themselves co-chairmen of Lautenberg's bid to serve in the Senate until he's 90 years old.
Then something very unusual in New Jersey politics occurred. Andrews changed his mind just before the filing deadline and challenged Lautenberg in the June 3 primary. In a strange twist, his wife filed to run for his House seat.
And so began the latest chapter of political warfare in New Jersey, where a man's word is treated as if he is a priest -- or at least a partner in crime -- and no political grudge is ever forgotten.
With help from the Democratic governor, Jon S. Corzine, and Sen. Robert Menendez, the other six House Democrats have launched a furious campaign of retribution against Andrews that has left his fledgling effort with little institutional support beyond his base in South Jersey. The other Garden State Democrats have made it their mission to defeat Andrews in June and destroy any political hopes the ambitious nine-term House member may have.
"The thing is, he didn't keep his word. He reneged on it, and people are going to remember that," said Rep. Frank Pallone.
Andrews, elected to the House at 33, has had his eye on higher office since the mid-1990s, but in a state where the governor and U.S. senators are the only elected statewide officers, the opportunities have been limited. He narrowly lost the gubernatorial primary in 1997, a race that many Democrats said left him embittered for several years over the power local party officials have to sway votes.
So when Lautenberg came out of retirement in 2002 -- the incumbent, Robert G. Torricelli (D), quit his reelection bid amid a corruption scandal -- most state Democrats believed he would be a one-term placeholder. But by the time he summoned his congressional colleagues to the Ritz, Lautenberg was obviously running for another term.
Acknowledging his pledge to Lautenberg, Andrews said Lautenberg has not lived up to his end of the bargain, suggesting he heard reports that Lautenberg was not mounting a "vigorous" campaign. He said a growing number of supporters asked him to run as the filing deadline approached early this month.
Rep. Steve Rothman (D) said Andrews's claim "makes absolutely no sense." Lautenberg had been holding his fire until the general-election season later this year "until Rob Andrews broke his word and entered the primary," Rothman said.
New Jersey Democrats, who have succeeded in every statewide race this decade, believe the winner of their primary will be the heavy favorite in the general election against likely GOP nominee Richard Zimmer, a lobbyist who was a House member until he lost a Senate race in 1996.
Andrews is battling history. No incumbent Senate Democrat has been ousted in a primary in New Jersey in the last 50 years.
But the challenger is running a campaign based on "change vs. the status quo" with not-so-subtle hints that Lautenberg might not be up to the task at his advanced age. He has accused the incumbent of refusing to debate him.
"The senator is running a surrogates campaign. The senator is running a press release campaign," Andrews, 50, said in a Friday telephone interview between campaign stops. "The people of the state want a choice."
Andrews's energetic call for more democracy is somewhat undercut by his wife's decision to run for his seat, with the understanding that local party leaders would help her win the nomination and she would withdraw after the primary.
Lautenberg called that move "protectionism," suggesting that Andrews would reclaim the nomination for his House seat if he lost the Senate primary.
Andrews said that is not the case: "I'm not running for the House." He said his wife's move was an attempt to help party leaders sift through the numerous candidates interested in the seat since he announced his Senate bid just days before the filing deadline.
The incumbent is running an ideological battle, sending out daily news releases that remind voters of the challenger's initial vigorous support of the Iraq war. Buoyed by polls that show him with a more than 30-percentage-point lead, Lautenberg cites his nearly 25 years of Senate service and positions on important panels such as the Appropriations Committee.
"The people of New Jersey approve of the work I'm doing," he said.
Still, Lautenberg is keenly aware of his age and goes out of his way to appear hip and fit. At a press conference on air-traffic issues in the Capitol on Thursday, he played with his iPhone when it started ringing. Last year, when a local reporter questioned his health, Lautenberg ordered his doctor to fax him Lautenberg's health and cholesterol records.
And at a St. Patrick's Day parade on the Jersey Shore with Pallone and Rep. Rush Holt, Lautenberg broke into a jog, trying to shake more hands than his colleagues. "He's strong, he has the experience, he's in a good position. There's just no argument to say he shouldn't continue," Pallone said.
What ultimately binds the other House Democrats to Lautenberg is less their enthusiastic support than their collective self-interest. They freely admit their own desire to succeed him. Their anger at Andrews is based on what they consider his deceit about his intentions after he pledged his loyalty to Lautenberg five months ago, said Rep. Bill Pascrell.
"The least you could do, if there's a change in course, is bring us together or call each of us. Your word is your bond. He's done something to me that is politically as well as morally wrong," Pascrell said.
Research editor Alice Crites contributed to this report.
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