3. Heroes and Villains of the Modern Era: The Second Bush Administration — Hurricane Katrina, Political Controversies, and America’s Changing Government

My Name is Arlen Specter: A Life of Questions, Independence, and Public Service

I was born on February 12, 1930, in Wichita, Kansas, to Jewish immigrant parents. My father worked hard, including operating a small junk business, and our family knew the difficulties of the Great Depression. We later moved to Russell, Kansas. Those years taught me persistence and the importance of opportunity. An argument did not become convincing merely because someone delivered it confidently. I wanted the facts. That habit would serve me well in courtrooms and occasionally make people uncomfortable in the United States Senate.

Learning the Law and Building a Family

I graduated from the University of Pennsylvania in 1951, served in the United States Air Force, and earned my law degree from Yale in 1956. Meanwhile, I married Joan Levy, who became a Philadelphia city councilwoman, and we raised two sons. Philadelphia became our home and the foundation of my public career. As an assistant district attorney, I learned to examine evidence, question witnesses, and prepare thoroughly. A prosecutor carries considerable power. Exercising it requires more than certainty about a conclusion; it requires demonstrating how the evidence supports that conclusion.

An Investigation That Followed Me for Life

In 1964, I served as assistant counsel to the Warren Commission investigating President John F. Kennedy’s assassination. I helped develop the single-bullet explanation—that one bullet passed through Kennedy and also wounded Texas Governor John Connally. Critics challenged that conclusion for decades, and I continued defending it. In 1965, although I had been a Democrat, I ran successfully as a Republican for Philadelphia district attorney. I served from 1966 to 1974, prosecuting crime and corruption. My political path was already demonstrating something important: I was not easily confined by a party label.

A Republican with an Independent Vote

Pennsylvania elected me to the Senate in 1980. I supported strong national defense and law enforcement, but I also supported abortion rights, medical research, and other positions that put me at odds with conservative Republicans. Increasing support for the National Institutes of Health became a major priority. My own battles with serious illness reinforced the importance of scientific research, but the public case was straightforward: discoveries could save lives. I regarded compromise as part of governing. A senator who refuses every imperfect agreement may preserve an argument while accomplishing very little.

Questioning Presidents and Supreme Court Nominees

As Judiciary Committee chairman from 2005 to 2007, I led the confirmation hearings for John Roberts and Samuel Alito. Judicial independence mattered, and nominees deserved searching questions about their approach to the Constitution. President George W. Bush was a Republican, as I was, but that did not relieve Congress of its oversight responsibilities. I questioned the legal basis for warrantless surveillance and pressed for answers about the dismissal of U.S. attorneys. I also pursued bipartisan immigration legislation. Supporting a president and scrutinizing his administration were compatible duties.

Changing Parties and Facing My Record

In 2009, I became a Democrat, citing my growing disagreements with the Republican Party while acknowledging that I faced a difficult Republican primary. I lost the Democratic primary in 2010, left the Senate in January 2011, and died on October 14, 2012. Independence had brought achievements and controversy. My aggressive questioning of Anita Hill during Clarence Thomas’s 1991 confirmation hearings remained particularly divisive. In later years, I expressed regret about my conduct toward her. Rigorous questioning was essential to my work, but a public servant also had to consider the human consequences of how he exercised power.

A Second Term Begins: Bush’s Plans for America — Told by Arlen Specter

When President George W. Bush began his second term on January 20, 2005, he intended to accomplish more than simply continue his first. He had defeated John Kerry, won a majority of the popular vote, and watched Republicans strengthen their control of Congress. After the election, he declared that he had earned political capital and intended to spend it. As a Republican senator from Pennsylvania, I understood the opportunity. I also understood the Senate. Winning an election gave a president influence; it did not give him command of every senator’s judgment.

Plans That Reached into American Homes

Bush’s domestic agenda touched the taxes Americans paid, the schools their children attended, and the security they expected in retirement. He sought permanent extensions of his earlier tax cuts, changes to the tax code, limits on certain lawsuits, and an energy policy intended to strengthen American supplies. He also proposed extending aspects of his education reforms into high schools. These proposals reflected his belief that private enterprise, individual responsibility, and ownership could improve people’s lives. Congress, however, had to examine each proposal separately. A broad promise of prosperity was the beginning of an argument, not its conclusion.

The Biggest Gamble: Social Security

Social Security became the centerpiece of his domestic campaign. Bush argued that an aging population and the retirement of the baby-boom generation would place growing pressure on the program’s finances. He proposed allowing younger workers to direct part of their Social Security payroll taxes into voluntary personal investment accounts. People born before 1950, he promised, would retain their existing benefits. Supporters believed younger Americans could build assets through investment. But the accounts would redirect money otherwise available to pay current benefits, creating substantial transition costs. They also would not, by themselves, eliminate Social Security’s long-term financing shortfall.

Questions a President Had to Answer

The difficult questions were unavoidable. Who would bear investment losses? How would the government pay benefits while payroll-tax revenue flowed into personal accounts? What changes would workers face in their traditional benefits? Democrats strongly opposed the proposal, while Republicans differed over its design and political risks. Bush traveled the country making his case, but public acceptance did not follow automatically. In April, he also endorsed slowing the growth of future benefits for middle- and higher-income workers while protecting lower-income workers more fully. That added another consequential question: how should the burdens of reform be distributed?

The Limits of an Electoral Mandate

By the end of 2005, Bush’s Social Security initiative had stalled without becoming law. His reelection had not produced agreement on this particular reform. Yet the year was not entirely one of frustration: he signed major legislation addressing class-action lawsuits, bankruptcy, and energy policy. That contrast revealed how government actually worked. A president could succeed on some priorities and fail on another, even with his party controlling Congress. From my seat in the Senate, the lesson was clear: political capital mattered, but durable legislation still required convincing arguments, workable details, and enough lawmakers willing to vote yes.

My Name is Sandra Day O’Connor: From the Cattle Ranch to the Supreme Court

I was born on March 26, 1930, in El Paso, Texas, and grew up on the Lazy B cattle ranch along the Arizona–New Mexico border. Ranch life required resourcefulness. If something broke, you worked out how to repair it. If there was a job to do, you did your share. My parents expected responsibility, and the desert offered little encouragement to people who waited for someone else to solve their problems. Those lessons stayed with me long after I exchanged riding clothes for judicial robes.

A Law Degree and a Closed Door

At Stanford University, I discovered an interest in law and graduated from its law school in 1952. A strong academic record, however, did not persuade many law firms to consider hiring a woman as an attorney. One offered to employ me as a legal secretary. I wanted to practice law, so I kept looking. In San Mateo County, California, I offered to work without a salary or an office to demonstrate what I could do. That opportunity became work as a deputy county attorney. A closed door was a problem to address, not a verdict on my abilities.

Family and Public Service

I married John Jay O’Connor in 1952. We later settled in Arizona and raised three sons. My professional life included private practice, community service, and work as an assistant state attorney general, alongside years devoted to our young family. In 1969, I was appointed to the Arizona Senate, where I served as a Republican and eventually became the first woman to lead a state senate majority. Legislating taught me to listen, negotiate, and distinguish between a disagreement and a personal enemy. Getting useful work accomplished often required cooperation with people whose views differed from mine.

The First Woman on the Court

After serving on Arizona’s trial and appellate courts, I received an extraordinary opportunity. President Ronald Reagan nominated me to the United States Supreme Court in 1981. The Senate confirmed me unanimously, and I became its first woman justice. I understood the significance, but the daily responsibility was deciding cases. Lawyers appearing before us needed to answer difficult questions clearly. My task was to examine the Constitution, statutes, precedents, and facts—not to turn my personal preferences into national law. Being first mattered most if it helped ensure that I would not be the last.

Deciding Cases, One at a Time

People often described me as the Court’s deciding vote. I preferred to approach each dispute on its own terms. In Planned Parenthood v. Casey, I helped write the joint opinion preserving the central constitutional protection recognized in Roe v. Wade while permitting certain restrictions. In Grutter v. Bollinger, I wrote the opinion allowing a limited consideration of race in university admissions. These were difficult questions with serious consequences. I also valued collegiality: justices could disagree sharply about the law and still share lunch, exchange ideas, and treat one another with respect.

Service beyond the Bench

I retired in January 2006 as my husband’s Alzheimer’s disease progressed. Later, I helped establish iCivics because constitutional government depends on citizens who understand it. In 2018, I announced my own dementia diagnosis; I died on December 1, 2023. Looking back also required acknowledging uncertainty. In 2013, I questioned whether the Court should have accepted Bush v. Gore, the election case in which I joined the majority. That was not a formal apology or a withdrawal of my vote. It was recognition that even a justice must consider whether the Court chose its course wisely.

Changing the Supreme Court — Told by Sandra Day O’Connor

On July 1, 2005, I informed President George W. Bush that I intended to retire from the Supreme Court when my successor was confirmed. I had served since 1981, and my husband John’s advancing Alzheimer’s disease weighed heavily in my decision. After years of responsibility to the Court, I wanted more time with him. Yet a justice cannot simply hand her chair to someone else. The president nominates a replacement, and the Senate decides whether to consent. My announcement began a process whose outcome would reach far beyond my own family.

One Nomination Becomes Another

President Bush initially nominated John Roberts to succeed me on July 19. Roberts was a federal appeals court judge with substantial experience arguing before the Supreme Court. Then, on September 3, Chief Justice William Rehnquist died, creating a second vacancy. I had known him since our years at Stanford Law School and served beside him for more than two decades. His death changed the president’s plans. Bush withdrew Roberts’s nomination for my seat and nominated him instead to become chief justice. My own departure would have to wait.

The Senate Examines John Roberts

During Roberts’s confirmation hearings, senators questioned him about precedent, constitutional interpretation, and the proper role of judges. He compared judging to an umpire’s work, emphasizing the application of rules rather than the creation of policy. But senators wanted to understand what those principles would mean in difficult cases. On September 29, 2005, the Senate confirmed him by a vote of 78–22. He became the seventeenth chief justice of the United States. The Court had a new leader, while I remained at work awaiting a confirmed successor.

Harriet Miers and a Nomination Withdrawn

On October 3, Bush nominated White House Counsel Harriet Miers for my seat. She had extensive legal experience but had never served as a judge. Her nomination encountered resistance from several directions, including conservatives who questioned her constitutional views and qualifications. Senators also sought information about her White House work, raising disputes over confidential presidential advice. On October 27, Miers asked the president to withdraw her nomination, and he agreed. She never reached a confirmation hearing. The episode demonstrated that even a president’s own political allies could challenge his choice.

Samuel Alito Takes My Place

Four days later, Bush nominated Samuel Alito, a longtime federal appeals court judge. His extensive judicial record gave senators much more material to examine, but it also sharpened disputes over abortion, executive authority, and the direction of constitutional law. The Senate confirmed him on January 31, 2006, by a vote of 58–42, and my retirement became effective that day. In seven months, the Court had gained a new chief justice and my replacement. These appointments showed why judicial nominations command such attention: presidents serve limited terms, but the justices they appoint may influence American law for generations.

My Name is Kathleen Babineaux Blanco: A Life of Family, Faith, and Louisiana

I was born on December 15, 1942, and grew up in Coteau, near New Iberia, in Louisiana’s Cajun country. I was the oldest of six children, surrounded by family, Catholic faith, and the traditions of a French-speaking community. Louisiana was home in the deepest sense—the people, the food, the familiar voices, and the neighbors who looked after one another. I did not grow up planning to become governor. I grew up learning that when people needed help, you found something useful to do.

A Teacher, a Wife, and a Mother

In 1964, I graduated from the University of Southwestern Louisiana with a degree in business education and married Raymond Blanco, whom so many people knew simply as Coach. I taught at Breaux Bridge High School before devoting years to raising our six children. Managing a household taught me to listen, organize, stretch resources, and stand firm when necessary. Our family also experienced terrible sorrow when our son Ben died in an industrial accident in 1997. Faith did not remove that grief, but it helped sustain us through it.

Finding My Place in Public Service

I entered the Louisiana House of Representatives in 1984, becoming the first woman to represent Lafayette there. Later, I became the first woman elected to Louisiana’s Public Service Commission and the first woman to chair it. That work involved practical questions about utility services and the bills families paid. As lieutenant governor from 1996 to 2004, I promoted Louisiana’s tourism and cultural heritage. Our music, historic communities, and local traditions were more than attractions. They supported livelihoods and gave people reasons to take pride in their state.

Becoming Louisiana’s First Woman Governor

In 2003, voters elected me governor, and I took office in January 2004. I was a Democrat, but my responsibilities extended to every Louisiana family. Education was central to my plans: stronger schools, better opportunities for young children, support for colleges, and improved teacher pay. I wanted businesses to invest in Louisiana and our children to find opportunities without leaving home. Becoming the state’s first woman governor was an important milestone. Making government work for people was the task that followed.

The Storms That Changed Everything

Hurricane Katrina struck on August 29, 2005. Levee failures flooded much of New Orleans, communications broke down, and people waited in desperate conditions for rescue and evacuation. I sought federal assistance, called for additional troops, and worked to move survivors toward safety. Then Hurricane Rita devastated southwestern Louisiana in September. Recovery meant fighting for money to restore homes, schools, hospitals, and businesses. It also meant confronting criticism, delays, and disagreements among governments. Behind every funding argument stood families trying to recover ordinary lives.

Responsibility and What Remained

I chose not to seek reelection in 2007 and left office in January 2008. In my remaining years, I supported public service and the policy center established in my name at my university. I died on August 18, 2019, after living with cancer. I wanted to be remembered for faith, family, and love of Louisiana, as well as the storms. But love required accountability. In September 2005, I publicly accepted responsibility for failures in the state’s response. People needed help sooner, and their suffering deserved acknowledgment. Serving them meant facing what went wrong as well as defending the work of rebuilding.

Hurricane Katrina: The Storm and the Flood — Told by Kathleen Blanco

As governor of Louisiana, I watched Hurricane Katrina strengthen over the Gulf of Mexico with growing alarm. On August 26, 2005, I declared a state of emergency. By August 28, Katrina had reached Category 5 strength offshore, and forecasters warned of catastrophic destruction. That morning, New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin ordered a mandatory evacuation. Families packed cars, boarded up houses, and joined crowded highways leading inland. We encouraged people to leave while they could. But an order to evacuate could not, by itself, provide everyone with the means to escape.

Leaving Was Not Equally Possible

For a family with a reliable car, money for gasoline, and relatives elsewhere, evacuation was difficult but possible. For someone without transportation, living paycheck to paycheck, or dependent on medical equipment, the same instruction presented a different problem. Older residents and people with disabilities often needed assistance that was not adequately arranged. Some residents chose to remain, but many faced barriers that determination alone could not overcome. Thousands sought refuge in the Superdome, a shelter of last resort. Others stayed in homes they hoped would withstand another hurricane.

The Storm Arrives

Katrina made landfall near Buras, Louisiana, on August 29 as a powerful Category 3 hurricane. Its enormous storm surge pushed water across coastal communities, while destructive winds tore roofs apart and knocked out electricity and communications. Mississippi also suffered devastating coastal flooding. In New Orleans, the hurricane’s center passed east of the city, but that did not mean safety. Water overtopped some protective structures, while levees and floodwalls failed in several places. Investigations later identified serious engineering and design problems within the flood-protection system. The defenses people depended upon did not hold.

A City Fills with Water

Floodwater spread through neighborhoods, entering houses and rising toward ceilings. By August 31, approximately 80 percent of New Orleans was flooded. Residents climbed into attics, broke through roofs, or waited on balconies for rescue. Coast Guard crews, emergency responders, and civilians in boats pulled people from danger. Inside hospitals, staff struggled with failing power and worsening conditions. The disaster was no longer simply wind and rain. It was a flooded city where roads had disappeared beneath water and reaching someone in need could require a boat or helicopter.

Waiting for Safety

At the Superdome, roof damage, oppressive heat, failing sanitation, and crowded conditions made an already frightening situation worse. Thousands also gathered at the Convention Center, where supplies and organized assistance were inadequate. When I visited the Superdome on August 30, the urgency of moving people out was unmistakable. Rescue and evacuation efforts saved many lives, yet help reached too many people slowly. Katrina exposed a painful weakness in our preparations: warnings were essential, but safety also required transportation, dependable infrastructure, and plans that accounted for residents with the fewest resources. Those needs had not been adequately met.

Katrina to Rita: Rebuilding Lives and Communities — Told by Kathleen Blanco

Before Louisiana could begin recovering from Hurricane Katrina, another enormous storm approached our coast. Hurricane Rita made landfall near the Louisiana–Texas border on September 24, 2005, devastating southwestern Louisiana and flooding communities already strained by evacuation and disruption. As governor, I faced a recovery stretching from New Orleans to the fishing towns and farming communities near our western border. The storms had damaged far more than buildings. Families had lost jobs, children had lost familiar classrooms, and entire communities were scattered. Bringing people home would require restoring the things that made daily life possible.

A Homecoming Full of Obstacles

Returning residents often found houses filled with ruined furniture, mud, and mold. Before rebuilding, they needed inspections, insurance decisions, dependable electricity, and safe drinking water. Some lived in temporary trailers or crowded into relatives’ homes. Others remained far away because their neighborhoods lacked housing, schools, or medical care. Renters faced particular difficulties: repairing a homeowner’s property did not necessarily provide an affordable apartment for a displaced family. Every return depended on several other recoveries happening together. A repaired house offered limited comfort if the nearest school remained closed and the family’s employer had disappeared.

The Long Road to Housing Assistance

I pressed Washington for substantial rebuilding assistance, including federal community-development funding. Louisiana established the Road Home program to help eligible homeowners repair, rebuild, or relocate. Its purpose was vital, but its administration became a source of deep frustration. Applications, property valuations, insurance calculations, and processing delays slowed payments. The program also faced criticism because its original grant formula could disadvantage owners whose homes had low market values before the storms, even when rebuilding costs were high. Families needed assistance they could actually use. Announcing billions in recovery funding did not mean those dollars had reached a kitchen table.

Reopening the Places That Held Communities Together

Recovery also meant reopening businesses, restoring hospitals, and getting children back into classrooms. School systems enrolled displaced students while damaged districts worked to resume instruction. In New Orleans, state intervention and the expansion of charter schools transformed public education, producing debates about opportunity, local control, and the treatment of educators. Along the coast, fishing families needed boats, docks, and processing facilities repaired before livelihoods could recover. Volunteers, religious organizations, businesses, and neighbors contributed extraordinary labor. Their efforts demonstrated how much communities could accomplish, while also revealing the scale of work that required sustained government support.

Building for the Next Storm

Rebuilding raised difficult questions about elevation, flood protection, coastal wetlands, and where construction should occur. Stronger levees and floodwalls mattered, but so did evacuation planning and protection for people unable to leave without help. Recovery continued long after I left office in January 2008, and some residents never returned. I defended Louisiana’s need for resources, but the delays and unequal burdens could not be dismissed. The measure of recovery was more than repaired roads or reopened buildings. It was whether families could regain safety, stability, and a place in the communities they called home.

Surveillance, Privacy, and Presidential Power — Told by Arlen Specter

In December 2005, Americans learned that President George W. Bush had authorized the National Security Agency to intercept certain international telephone calls and emails without obtaining warrants through the usual foreign-intelligence court process. The program had begun after September 11, 2001. Bush defended it as necessary to detect terrorist communications quickly. As Republican chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee, I understood the urgency of protecting the country. But presidential action required legal authority. The seriousness of a threat did not relieve Congress of its responsibility to ask difficult questions.

The Law Already on the Books

Congress had enacted the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act, known as FISA, in 1978 after investigations exposed abuses of government surveillance. It established a special court to consider applications for surveillance orders in foreign-intelligence cases. The law also allowed emergency surveillance under specified conditions while officials sought court approval afterward. That made the central question especially important: why had the administration operated outside that framework? Intelligence work sometimes required secrecy, but secrecy and independent legal review could exist together. Congress had created a confidential judicial process precisely because national security and individual rights both required protection.

The President’s Argument

The administration maintained that the president’s constitutional authority as commander in chief supported the program. It also argued that Congress’s 2001 Authorization for Use of Military Force supplied additional statutory authority. Officials described the publicly acknowledged program as targeting international communications when there were reasonable grounds to connect at least one party with al-Qaeda or an affiliated terrorist organization. Critics disputed those legal arguments, pointing to FISA’s requirements and Congress’s constitutional powers. Authorizing military force against an enemy did not expressly mention bypassing the surveillance court. Whether it nevertheless permitted that action became a major dispute.

Questions under Oath

On February 6, 2006, I chaired a Judiciary Committee hearing at which Attorney General Alberto Gonzales defended the program. We examined why existing emergency procedures were considered insufficient, how the administration interpreted the law, and what safeguards governed surveillance. Privacy mattered because communications involving people inside the United States could be intercepted. The Fourth Amendment’s protection against unreasonable searches could not be treated as an inconvenience. At the same time, evaluating classified activities presented real difficulties: senators needed enough information to exercise oversight without publicly exposing intelligence methods. Meaningful supervision required more than assurances that officials were acting carefully.

Who Would Check the President?

I pursued legislation intended to bring the surveillance controversy before the FISA court for judicial review, although the proposal itself drew criticism over how it would change existing law. In January 2007, the administration announced that the activities it called the Terrorist Surveillance Program would operate under foreign-intelligence court orders. Congress subsequently changed surveillance law in 2007 and 2008, renewing arguments over safeguards and executive authority. The controversy demonstrated why oversight mattered even when the president and committee chairman belonged to the same party. Protecting Americans required effective intelligence—and a government whose exercise of power remained subject to law.

My Name is Harry Reid: From Searchlight to the United States Senate

I was born on December 2, 1939, in Searchlight, Nevada, a mining town where people worked hard and had little to show for it. My father was a miner. My mother took in laundry. Our house had no indoor plumbing, and I attended a small school with children of different ages learning together. Poverty was not something I discovered in a government report. I grew up with it. When I later argued that working people deserved a fair chance, I was thinking about families like mine.

A Teacher, a Fighter, and a Partner

To attend high school, I traveled to Henderson, where a teacher named Mike O’Callaghan took an interest in me. He taught government, coached boxing, and expected something from his students. In the ring, you learned to take a punch and keep your head. Those were useful lessons in politics, too. I also met Landra Gould, who became my wife in 1959. We built a family with five children. Landra knew the boy from Searchlight long before anyone called him senator, and her judgment mattered more to me than applause in Washington.

Working My Way into Public Service

I graduated from Utah State University and went to law school at George Washington University. To support my family, I worked as a United States Capitol Police officer. Before I helped lead the Senate, I helped guard it. Landra and I also joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and faith became an important part of our family life. After earning my law degree in 1964, I returned to Nevada, practiced law, and entered public service. I served in the state assembly and became lieutenant governor in 1971, alongside Governor O’Callaghan, my former teacher.

Losing Elections and Standing My Ground

My career was no straight climb. I lost a Senate race in 1974 and a race for mayor of Las Vegas the following year. Losing does not mean you have nothing left to contribute. As chairman of the Nevada Gaming Commission, I faced powerful interests and helped the FBI investigate an attempted bribe. Casino regulation was serious business, and public officials had to stand their ground. In 1982, Nevada voters elected me to the House of Representatives. Four years later, they elected me to the Senate.

Leading Democrats through Difficult Years

I became Senate Democratic leader in 2005 and majority leader in 2007. President George W. Bush had won reelection, but Congress still had a responsibility to question his administration. I opposed his Social Security proposal and pressed for accountability after Hurricane Katrina. Later, working with President Barack Obama, I helped guide the Affordable Care Act through the Senate. Passing legislation required counting votes, listening carefully, and knowing when to compromise. I also fought the proposed nuclear-waste repository at Yucca Mountain. Representing Nevada was never a side assignment.

The Fight and Its Cost

I retired from the Senate in January 2017. My life ended on December 28, 2021, after treatment for pancreatic cancer. Looking back, I would defend my determination to help working families and my willingness to fight for Nevada. But determination did not make every word or decision right. My unsupported allegation about Mitt Romney’s taxes in 2012 deserved criticism, and changing Senate nomination rules in 2013 carried consequences beyond my leadership. I should have been more careful with the power of my office and my words. A public servant can fight hard and still owe people fairness.

Voters Change Congress — Told by Harry Reid

On November 7, 2006, Americans voted in congressional elections that changed the balance of power in Washington. President George W. Bush was not on the ballot, but his administration’s record weighed heavily on the campaign. The Iraq War, corruption scandals, and dissatisfaction with government helped Democrats win control of both the House and Senate. Hurricane Katrina had also damaged public confidence. Americans remembered flooded neighborhoods, desperate conditions, and residents who lacked the transportation or resources to escape. Those images raised a question that reached beyond Louisiana: could their government be counted on when it mattered?

A Narrow Majority, a New Responsibility

In the Senate, our victory depended on close races, including contests in Montana and Virginia. The new chamber contained forty-nine Democrats, forty-nine Republicans, and two independents who caucused with us, giving our side an effective 51–49 majority. That was enough to organize the Senate, but hardly enough to assume every proposal would pass. My Democratic colleagues selected me as majority leader, and I took up that responsibility when the new Congress began in January 2007. Across the Capitol, Nancy Pelosi became the first woman to serve as Speaker of the House.

What Changed behind the Chamber Doors

Control of Congress meant more than different names on office doors. Democrats became committee chairs, gaining greater influence over hearings, investigations, and the legislation committees considered. As majority leader, I helped determine which matters reached the Senate floor and negotiated the terms of debate. We could demand explanations from administration officials and examine failures that deserved closer scrutiny. But I could not simply order senators to agree. Each represented a state, held individual convictions, and possessed procedural rights. Leading the Senate required counting votes—and then counting them again.

A President Still in the White House

Divided government meant Democrats controlled Congress while a Republican remained president. We could pass legislation, but President Bush could veto it. Overriding a veto required a two-thirds vote in each chamber, well beyond our narrow Senate majority. Senate rules created another obstacle: ending debate on most contested legislation generally required sixty votes. Consequently, winning fifty-one seats did not give us unrestricted power. We needed Republican support for many priorities, while the president needed cooperation from a Congress his party no longer controlled. Disagreement was certain; governing still required decisions.

Results Required More Than Victory

The new arrangement produced both confrontation and cooperation. In 2007, Congress and President Bush agreed to raise the federal minimum wage in stages from $5.15 to $7.25 an hour. Other proposals encountered vetoes or stalled amid disagreements. Voters had given Democrats an opportunity to redirect Washington, not a guarantee of success. From my position as majority leader, the responsibility was practical: investigate failures, negotiate where progress was possible, and explain where the branches could not agree. An election changed who held the gavels. What we accomplished afterward determined whether that change improved people’s lives.

The U.S. Attorney Dismissals Controversy — Told by Arlen Specter

In December 2006, seven United States attorneys were told to resign, following two other removals earlier that year. These federal prosecutors handled cases ranging from public corruption to organized crime. Presidents appoint U.S. attorneys with Senate confirmation and generally possess the authority to remove them. But legal authority did not settle every question. As the Senate Judiciary Committee’s senior Republican in 2007, I wanted to know why these particular prosecutors had been dismissed. Were the decisions based on legitimate management concerns, or had political interests intruded into the administration of justice?

Where Politics Must Meet a Boundary

U.S. attorneys carry out an administration’s lawful enforcement priorities, but decisions about individual prosecutions must rest on evidence and law. A prosecutor should not bring a weak case to help a political party or abandon a sound case to protect an influential official. Several dismissed attorneys had received favorable performance evaluations, making explanations about poor performance difficult to accept without examination. Allegations emerged that some had disappointed Republican officials by declining to pursue election-related cases or by investigating public corruption. Those allegations required investigation, not an assumption that every dismissal had the same explanation.

The Committee Starts Asking Questions

Democrat Patrick Leahy chaired the Judiciary Committee, and I served as its ranking Republican. Our oversight responsibility extended beyond party loyalty. Hearings, documents, and testimony exposed shifting explanations for the removals. Attorney General Alberto Gonzales initially described his involvement as limited, but records raised questions about his role and knowledge. When he testified in April 2007, his repeated inability to recall important details frustrated senators from both parties. For a committee examining decisions made at the highest levels of the Justice Department, incomplete recollections left essential questions unanswered.

The White House Claims Confidentiality

The investigation also reached communications involving White House officials. President George W. Bush asserted executive privilege over certain requested documents and testimony, arguing that presidential advisers needed confidential discussions to perform their duties. Congress maintained that it needed relevant evidence to investigate possible misconduct. The disagreement illustrated a constitutional tension: presidents require room for candid advice, while lawmakers require information for meaningful oversight. Neither invoking confidentiality nor issuing a subpoena automatically resolved the dispute. Negotiation, legal arguments, and litigation became part of the struggle over access.

What the Investigation Established

Gonzales announced his resignation in August 2007. A joint Justice Department watchdog investigation reported in 2008 that partisan political considerations had influenced several removals and criticized the process as seriously flawed. Investigators also identified limits on their ability to establish all the facts, including difficulties obtaining cooperation from some former officials. The findings did not establish that every dismissal was unlawful or produce a criminal conviction of Gonzales. They did demonstrate why scrutiny mattered. A president could replace prosecutors, but the public deserved confidence that federal criminal justice served the law rather than a party’s electoral interests.

Immigration Reform and the Collapse of Compromise — Told by Arlen Specter

By 2006, immigration had become one of Washington’s most difficult arguments. Millions of people lived in the United States without legal authorization, employers relied on immigrant labor, and Americans questioned whether the government could enforce its own borders. As Republican chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee, I helped develop legislation intended to address these problems together. President George W. Bush also supported comprehensive reform. Stronger enforcement mattered, but so did deciding what to do about people already working and raising families here. Passing a law required confronting both questions.

Two Chambers Take Different Roads

The House had passed an enforcement-focused bill in December 2005 that included making unlawful presence a federal crime. That proposal helped inspire large demonstrations in 2006. In May, the Senate passed a broader bill combining border security, workplace enforcement, expanded legal immigration, and opportunities for many unauthorized immigrants to obtain lawful status under specified conditions. Supporters called that a practical response to an established reality. Opponents argued that legalizing people who had violated immigration law would reward wrongdoing. The House and Senate never resolved their differences, and the legislation did not become law.

Building Another Compromise

In 2007, senators from both parties negotiated another package with the Bush administration. I worked alongside Democrat Edward Kennedy and other colleagues to bring competing demands into one agreement. The proposal paired stronger border and workplace enforcement with a temporary-worker program and a legalization process for eligible unauthorized immigrants. Its proposed “Z visa” status involved requirements such as background checks, fees, and fines. The route toward permanent residence carried additional conditions, including a requirement that heads of household return to their home countries to apply. Major provisions depended on enforcement measures being established first.

Neither Party Spoke with One Voice

The bargain faced resistance from opposite directions. Many Republicans considered legalization an amnesty and doubted promises that enforcement would improve. Other Republicans supported the package as a realistic way to strengthen security and regulate labor markets. Democrats also disagreed. Some objected to temporary-worker arrangements that they believed could weaken wages or leave workers vulnerable. Others challenged a proposed points system that would give greater weight to employment qualifications and reduce the emphasis on certain family relationships. Every concession meant to attract one group risked driving another away. Support for reform in principle did not produce agreement on its terms.

The Votes That Ended the Effort

After weeks of debate, the decisive setback came on June 28, 2007. A motion to end debate on the revised bill received forty-six votes, well short of the sixty required. I voted to move the legislation forward, but senators from both parties opposed doing so. The comprehensive effort collapsed without a final passage vote. The result demonstrated the difficulty of combining enforcement, legal immigration, and legalization into a single bargain. We had negotiated an ambitious answer, but we had not assembled a lasting majority willing to accept its compromises. The unresolved questions remained for another Congress—and for the country.

The Closing Bush Years: Public Trust and Demands for Change — Told by Kathleen Babineaux Blanco and Sandra Day O’Connor

A Government Judged by Its Response

Kathleen Blanco: By the closing years of George W. Bush’s presidency, Americans had powerful reasons to question how their government performed. In Louisiana, we measured that performance in rescue efforts, housing assistance, repaired schools, and families able to return home. Federal funding helped rebuild communities after Hurricanes Katrina and Rita, but delays and administrative obstacles caused lasting frustration. Responsibility extended across local, state, and federal government. For people still displaced, arguments about which official deserved blame could not replace the practical assistance they needed.

A Record with Lasting Achievements

Sandra Day O’Connor: A fair assessment also requires examining what the administration accomplished. Medicare’s prescription-drug benefit, enacted during Bush’s first term, began operating in 2006 and expanded access to drug coverage, although its complexity and coverage gap drew criticism. Bush also signed energy legislation and, in 2007, a minimum-wage increase approved by the Democratic-controlled Congress. These measures affected daily life. Evaluating a presidency means considering such results alongside its failures, while remembering that legislation usually reflects the work of Congress as well as the president.

Promises That Encountered Resistance

Kathleen Blanco: Several of the president’s largest domestic ambitions remained unfinished. His proposal to change Social Security stalled, and comprehensive immigration reform collapsed despite support from Bush and senators in both parties. Meanwhile, controversies over federal prosecutor dismissals and government surveillance raised questions about judgment and accountability. Democrats’ congressional victories in 2006 brought more investigations and greater resistance to administration policies. By 2008, the financial crisis added urgent fears about jobs, savings, and homes. Americans were looking for evidence that Washington understood the insecurity reaching their own households.

Power beyond the President’s Term

Sandra Day O’Connor: Some consequences would last much longer than the immediate political arguments. Bush’s appointments of Chief Justice John Roberts and Justice Samuel Alito reshaped the Supreme Court, where justices hold office during good behavior rather than facing regular elections. My retirement became effective when Alito joined the Court in January 2006. Judicial appointments illustrate how a president’s influence can continue after leaving office. They also explain why constitutional limits matter: executive decisions, congressional action, and judicial review each contribute to government, and none should be mistaken for unrestricted authority.

An Election Built around Change

Kathleen Blanco: In 2008, Democrat Barack Obama faced Republican John McCain, and both candidates promised changes in Washington. Obama argued for a sharper departure from the Bush years, while McCain emphasized experience and his record of challenging his own party. The worsening economy became central to the campaign, alongside disagreements over healthcare, taxes, and national priorities. On November 4, Obama won the presidency and became the first African American elected to that office. Democrats also expanded their congressional majorities, giving the incoming administration an opportunity to pursue a different agenda.

The Transfer and the Responsibility Ahead

Sandra Day O’Connor: Obama took office on January 20, 2009, through the constitutional transfer of presidential power. That orderly transition mattered, particularly during an economic emergency. The election changed the nation’s leadership, but it did not remove the difficult responsibilities of governing. Public confidence would depend on decisions, competence, and accountability after the celebrations ended. The closing Bush years demonstrated that Americans could criticize their government, replace elected leaders, and demand a different course. Keeping that system effective required informed citizens willing to remain involved between elections.

The Financial Crisis of 2008 - Told by Arlen Specter and Harry Reid

The Housing Boom Turns to Bust

Arlen Specter: Before Americans watched financial institutions collapse, many watched the value of their homes climb. Lenders issued mortgages to borrowers with weak credit, sometimes requiring little documentation of income. Some loans began with low payments that later increased. Financial firms bundled mortgages into investments and sold them widely, spreading the risk throughout the financial system. The dangerous assumption was that housing prices would keep rising. When prices fell and borrowers missed payments, losses traveled far beyond the original lender. A mortgage on one street had become part of an investment held somewhere else entirely.

Harry Reid: And behind those investments stood families who could lose their homes. Nevada, the state I represented, became one of the places hardest hit by foreclosures. Construction slowed, jobs disappeared, and falling property values left many borrowers owing more than their houses were worth. Refinancing or selling could no longer provide an easy escape. Risky lending, excessive borrowing, complicated investments, and failures of oversight had reinforced one another. What began as a housing collapse was becoming a much broader economic emergency.

When Confidence Collapsed

Arlen Specter: By September 2008, the question was no longer simply how much mortgage investments had lost. It was whether major financial institutions could survive. Bear Stearns had already required a government-assisted sale in March. On September 15, Lehman Brothers filed for bankruptcy. The next day, the Federal Reserve authorized emergency lending to the insurance giant AIG. Those decisions raised difficult questions about which institutions received assistance and why. Meanwhile, frightened investors and lenders pulled back, uncertain who could repay them. Confidence, essential to the movement of credit, was disappearing.

Harry Reid: For Americans outside Wall Street, that sounded distant until credit became harder to obtain. Businesses depended on borrowing to finance operations, and households depended on functioning banks for everyday economic life. Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson and Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke warned Congress of severe consequences if the panic continued. As majority leader, I faced a Congress divided over the response while the presidential election approached. Doing nothing carried enormous risks, but asking taxpayers to support a financial system that had helped create the disaster demanded an explanation.

Bailouts and the Battle over Government Intervention

Arlen Specter: Opponents asked a reasonable question: would rescuing financial institutions reward reckless behavior and encourage it again? Supporters argued that allowing the system to collapse would punish workers and businesses that had never traded a mortgage security. The proposed Troubled Asset Relief Program, or TARP, initially authorized up to $700 billion to address the crisis. That was an authorization, not a statement of the government’s eventual loss. The argument concerned both immediate survival and the conditions attached to public assistance.

Harry Reid: Arlen and I both voted for the Senate bill on October 1. After the House approved it, President Bush signed the legislation on October 3. Treasury subsequently used substantial TARP resources to invest capital in banks rather than simply purchase troubled mortgage assets as originally emphasized. The intervention helped stabilize finance, but it did not immediately stop foreclosures, unemployment, or public anger. That distinction mattered: preventing a deeper collapse and restoring families’ security were connected responsibilities, yet accomplishing the first did not mean the second was finished.

No Child Left Behind: The Promise and Pressure of School Accountability - Told by Sandra Day O’Connor and Kathleen Babineaux Blanco

A Promise That Crossed Party Lines

Sandra Day O’Connor: A school could report satisfactory average scores while some of its children struggled to read. That problem helped drive No Child Left Behind, which President George W. Bush signed on January 8, 2002, after strong bipartisan support in Congress. Its promise was compelling: schools should take responsibility for every student’s learning. The law required states to report achievement separately for groups including disadvantaged students, students with disabilities, English learners, and major racial and ethnic groups. Schoolwide averages would no longer be enough to demonstrate success.

Kathleen Babineaux Blanco: For a governor, that promise became a practical responsibility. Louisiana needed stronger schools, but identifying weaknesses and correcting them were different tasks. The law required annual reading and mathematics assessments in grades three through eight and once during high school. States established their own standards and definitions of proficiency, while working toward having all students proficient by the 2013–2014 school year. Parents gained information about performance, but educators faced an enormous challenge: turning a national deadline into learning in thousands of individual classrooms.

When Accountability Brought Consequences

Sandra Day O’Connor: The central measurement was called adequate yearly progress. Schools had to meet requirements for their overall population and qualifying student groups. A school could miss its targets because one group fell short, even when other students performed well. For schools receiving federal Title I assistance, repeated shortfalls brought escalating interventions, including public-school transfer options, supplemental instruction, corrective action, and eventually restructuring. These consequences were intended to prevent officials from accepting persistent failure. But a designation alone could not explain everything happening inside a school.

Kathleen Babineaux Blanco: And circumstances mattered. A school serving children facing poverty, interrupted schooling, or language barriers needed effective instruction and appropriate support. After Hurricanes Katrina and Rita, Louisiana also faced destroyed classrooms and displaced students. Accountability remained important, but recovery required buildings, teachers, transportation, and stable learning environments. Nationally, states set different proficiency thresholds, making results difficult to compare across state lines. Families deserved honest information, and they also needed to understand what the measurements revealed—and what they could not explain.

What the Tests Could—and Could Not—Tell

Sandra Day O’Connor: Reading and mathematics are foundations of education, yet citizenship requires more. Students must understand history, constitutional government, and how to evaluate competing arguments. Reports on test-based accountability found that teachers emphasized tested subjects, sometimes at the expense of history, foreign languages, and the arts. That raised a serious question about incentives. If government attached its strongest consequences to a limited set of measurements, schools had reasons to concentrate on those measurements. A broader education still mattered, even where it was harder to count.

Kathleen Babineaux Blanco: The law made achievement gaps harder to overlook, and that was an important contribution. Its difficulties also showed why improving education required more than demanding higher percentages. Teachers needed preparation, struggling students needed timely help, and families needed schools capable of responding to their children. Neither declaring the entire system a failure nor treating every test result as a complete verdict offered a sufficient answer. The real test of reform was whether children learned more—and whether those who needed the greatest assistance actually received it.