Yes, McCain’s a Maverick . . . but That’s No Switch

It was headline news across America when Republican Sen. John McCain hosted Democratic Sen. Tom Daschle at his mountain retreat. Pundits were agog. Republicans were aghast.

But for many here in Arizona, it was simply John McCain--maverick, media magnet and frequent pain in his party’s backside--being John McCain. And that seemed to suit most folks just fine.

By squiring South Dakota’s Daschle, the incoming Senate majority leader, around his ranch in the craggy red-rock country outside Sedona, McCain sparked furious speculation he might defect from the GOP’s skittish ranks. He emphatically ruled out the possibility.

But the episode last weekend only served to underscore McCain’s emergence as a one-man soap opera--and one man with enormous sway over Washington and the national political agenda.

While GOP partisans may sputter, others here like the idea of their senator serving as a bridge between two fractious parties. “That sort of bipartisan interaction is important,” said David Braaten, a 49-year-old college dean who, like a growing number of Arizonans, is a political independent. “There’s been too much right-wing gridlock over the last few years.”

Since waging his failed bid for the White House last year, McCain has used his heightened influence to accommodate congressional Democrats--and to complicate matters for his erstwhile rival, President Bush. McCain has allied with Democrats to push for tougher rules on sales at gun shows and new rights for medical patients. He has continued to champion campaign finance reform over the objection of GOP leaders and, in the ultimate heresy to many Republicans, voted against Bush’s signature tax cut.

In Arizona, members of the Republican establishment joined their Beltway counterparts in a state of high dudgeon. There is talk of a primary challenge to McCain when he is up for reelection in 2004. Twenty to 25 callers a day have been ringing party headquarters to vent their anger.

“They wonder why McCain teamed up with liberal Democrats to slap the Republican Party around,” said Scott Bundgaard, a state senator from north Phoenix and one of McCain’s most vocal GOP critics. “McCain has shown the politics of pettiness is more self-aggrandizing--and certainly gets more media attention--than the politics of supporting our president.”

McCain appears unfazed. When a group of conservative Republicans recently staged a march through this posh Phoenix suburb, protesting the senator’s stance on campaign reform and gun control, he glibly bid them well. “Sen. McCain hopes they’ll wear sunscreen,” said press secretary Nancy Ives.

The supreme confidence may rest on poll results showing that McCain is by far the state’s most popular politician. An April survey found 63% of the state’s voters gave him good to excellent marks, compared with 49% for Bush, 46% for Republican Sen. Jon Kyl and 38% for Republican Gov. Jane Dee Hull. McCain received poor to very poor marks from just 8%.

Earl De Berge, a political analyst who conducted the nonpartisan survey, doubts feelings have changed much. He said most of McCain’s positions, save his recent vote on tax cuts, “are closer to the rank-and-file voters in this state than perhaps the comments of the Republican leadership would reflect.”

Indeed, a good part of McCain’s appeal may be that he is so ornery and independent. “Marching to his own drummer, that’s nothing new,” said Mike Hellon of Tucson, one of Arizona’s representatives on the Republican National Committee. “He’s a singled-minded individual who follows his own conscience. A lot of us admire that even when we disagree.”

There are limits to that affection. Many analysts believe McCain would doom his reelection prospects if he switched to the Democrats and suspect he also would be hard-pressed to win as an independent. Unlike Vermont, home of Republican-turned-independent Sen. James M. Jeffords, Arizona voters have little tradition of crossing partisan lines.

“Most polling shows that between 85% and 90% of Democrats and Republicans vote their party,” said Tom Volgy, a University of Arizona political science professor. “There isn’t a large enough base of deserters to give you a really good shot of winning as an independent.”

Republicans hold a small registration edge over Democrats in the state, 43% to 38%. Independents are the fastest-growing part of the Arizona electorate but still make up just 18% of registered voters.

For that reason alone, most believe McCain will stick with the GOP for as long as he plans to remain in the Senate. A switch to independent status would make sense, observers say, only if he intended to challenge Bush in 2004.

Nor are internal squabbles new among Arizona Republicans. No less an icon than longtime Sen. Barry Goldwater, Mr. Conservative himself, spent the last years of his life feuding with fellow Republicans. In one of his last acts of defiance, he backed a Democrat for Congress against a Republican he found too extreme. Activists showed their pique by moving to strip Goldwater’s name from the party headquarters in Phoenix.

And for all the talk of party switching, aides say McCain has hardly transformed his core political philosophy. His views on health care and tax cuts shifted as a result of his experiences on the presidential campaign trail, said Mark Salter, McCain’s chief congressional aide. But on defense, foreign affairs, free trade, deregulation and most other issues, “he’s still the same” center-right Republican, Salter said.

That’s too conservative for Democrats like George Hunt. The 49-year-old bank analyst was warding off this week’s 100-degree heat inside the refrigerated comfort of the Fashion Square Mall. He likes McCain and “respects him for his integrity.” But Hunt can’t imagine ever voting for him, even if McCain left the GOP.

“To the extent he’s making life difficult for Bush,” Hunt laughed, “that’s fine.”