Honoring the honorable life of Joe Lieberman

I write now, in the worst pain and shock, with news of my friend Joe Lieberman’s death just moments ago. I write because I know what his critics will be quick to write, what news reports have already re-circulated.

The same old attacks on Joe Lieberman, which he and I talked about so often, we both regarded as badges of honor: He often broke with his political friends and allies in the Democratic Party over matters of conscience. His critics did not just disagree with his positions. They had to attack him personally, call him names. But that didn’t dissuade him from sticking to his principles, regardless.

For example, he had the audacity to support a Republican presidential candidate in 2008, John McCain, who was more than one of his best friends. Lieberman regarded Sen. McCain as a political soulmate, and for the same reason his Democratic Party critics scorned him: McCain often went rogue, refused to go along with Republican Party orthodoxy.

And Lieberman angered Democrats and liberals when he supported the Iraq War because he believed that Saddam Hussein was a threat to world peace and had weapons of mass destruction.

Joe Lieberman was more than a friend to me. He was more than a brother. He was my inspiration.

He was a loyal friend of my law school-era friends, Bill and Hillary Clinton, through the years. But when, in September 1998, Joe broke with me and other Clinton loyalists when he criticized Bill Clinton on the Senate floor, I called him furious and upset. He told me calmly that he had been guided by his conscience but that I should tell President Clinton and the first lady that he remained their friend and would not vote for impeachment since this was a personal matter, not an impeachable offense.

When Joe was chosen by Al Gore to be on the 2000 Democratic Party ticket as a vice presidential candidate, I was in the family box with his loving wife Hadassah and his extended family, and when Joe accepted the nomination as the first Jewish nominee for vice president ever.

He he marked the moment by saying – with outstretched arms – “Is this a great country, or what?” We all hugged and cried together.

Except for a handful of votes in Florida and too many “hanging chads,” Joe Lieberman would have been vice president and perhaps our nation’s first Jewish president.

Joe made a lot of Democrats unhappy when he supported McCain for president in 2008 and when he was critical of Barack Obama during the campaign, and it made me unhappy. But that never stopped me from loving him and admiring him. I wasn’t the only one who felt this way. After he left office, Bill Clinton expressed that sentiment to President George W. Bush at the White House when Bill and Hillary returned for the presentation of their official White House portraits. “Wouldn’t it be great if we could say someone is right or wrong,” Clinton said, “and not that they are good or evil?”

Joe Lieberman’s honorable life and personal integrity always reminded me of how right Bill Clinton was to make that distinction. I listened to many of my fellow Democrats and fellow liberals using hateful language about my friend Joe. In fact, telling me they hated him.

I would say, again and again, how can you hate someone who has voted with Democratic colleagues in the Senate throughout his career more than 90% of the time? Can’t you just disagree?

The last time we spoke, about six months ago, I had called him to express my concern about his support for the “No Labels” effort to field a third-party ticket. I told him how concerned I was about Donald Trump’s disregard for the rule of law. How can you do this, Joe?

“This is what I feel, Lannyla,” he said, in his usual way of melding affection and respect with a touch of humor. “But I promise you: If I think what we are doing will help elect Trump, I will withdraw.”

I expressed strong skepticism that he could derail that train before the damage was done. He said softly, “I understand how you feel.” I tried to say the same words, but I just couldn’t. I was too concerned.

Then he said, I love you, Lannyla. And I said, I love you too, Joe.

And now you’re gone. Say it ain’t so, Joe.

Lanny Davis is a Washington attorney.