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history / Stones & Bones / volume 9 number 10, October 2007 THE LONG VIEW In a closed-door meeting of House Republicans this past summer, Don Young rose and did something remarkable, something out of character for our notoriously hot-tempered congressman: he apologized. Two weeks earlier during a budget debate on the House floor, Young had lashed out at a fellow Republican who questioned $33 million in education funds tagged for Alaska. "Those who bite me," thundered Young, "will be bitten back." Listening to a congressman known to wave oosiks around during committee hearings and clamp a leg-hold trap on his own arm to make a point, junior members of the House could be forgiven for taking Young's ostensibly metaphorical words literally. In acknowledging that he "probably went overboard," Young later apologized to colleagues and pledged to keep his temper in check for the sake of party unity. If that sentiment sounds in any way familiar, it's because we've heard it all before from our congressman. It was a well-timed apology fifteen years ago that saved Young's political career. In the 1992 election, when he was a ten-term incumbent, Young faced the race of his political life. His challenger was John Devens, the former mayor of Valdez who had won plaudits for his leadership following the Exxon Valdez spill. In many ways, however, Young's real opponent that year was himself. During his first two decades in Congress, Young had developed a reputation, both in Alaska and nationwide, for being arrogant, prickly, and openly hostile toward anyone who disagreed with him. He berated witnesses testifying before his committees until they cried, was known to bring hunting knives to committee hearings (drawing one out on at least one occasion), and once barked to a fellow congressman, "Don't point your pencil at me or I'll shove it up your you-know-what." After twenty years of this type of behavior, Alaskans had had enough. Statewide polls showed Young with a 54 percent unfavorable rating. When asked about his performance in Congress, a combined 72 percent of respondents rated it as "only fair" or "poor." Just over a month before the 1992 election, polls showed Young a whopping 20 points behind Devens. Clearly the Young campaign needed a masterstroke to win back the affection of Alaskans. It came in the form of what Young called his 'mea culpa' TV commercial. "I want to talk to you about something that's difficult for me—my own shortcomings," Young intoned in the ad. "It's painfully clear to me," he went on, "that many feel I'm abrasive and arrogant, and I won't disagree. I have made some mistakes and I am sorry." Within days of airing the TV spot, Young's numbers began to climb. In interviews and campaign appearances, a humble and contrite Young promised Alaskans he'd do better. By Election Day the race was a dead heat. Early returns favored Devens, but Young pulled ahead and ultimately retained his seat by a margin of just 9,000 votes. The heartfelt remorse displayed in Young's TV ad lasted only through the election and dissipated shortly thereafter. In the ensuing years, Young has given the middle finger to reporters who dared question his actions, suggested that anyone belonging to an environmental group is a communist who doesn't deserve to live in this country, and, in perhaps the most infamous Don Young outburst ever, informed a group of Fairbanks high school students that he opposed federal arts funding because photos of men "buttf***ing" isn't really art. It appears in this current election cycle that Young may be in trouble again. His dubious association with disgraced lobbyist Jack Abramoff, longtime fundraising ties to equally disgraced former VECO chief Bill Allen, and the Coconut Road earmark all represent "shortcomings" in Young far more serious than merely his unpleasant disposition. Unlike most previous elections where the Democrats put up only a token candidate against Young, this time both the state and national party have indicated their intent to field and support a prominent challenger to attempt to unseat the now eighteen-term incumbent. If history is any guide, an attempt by Don Young to apologize his way out of this jam may depend more on his poll numbers a month before Election Day than any actual feelings of remorse. | ||
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