Mr. President, I come to the floor to speak in honor, in memory, of our colleague Senator John Sidney McCain III. I asked myself a series of questions as I was trying to prepare for today's comments. First, who was he? Who was John McCain?…
Mr. President, I come to the floor to speak in honor, in memory, of our colleague Senator John Sidney McCain III. I asked myself a series of questions as I was trying to prepare for today's comments.
First, who was he? Who was John McCain? John was a man deeply in love with his country and its promise, a man optimistic that tomorrow would be better than today, and a man grateful for the chance to serve a cause greater than himself. His humor was rooted in that hopefulness, the sometimes sharp sting of his words in debate rooted in his passion for his cause and his love of the fight, and his restlessness rooted in impatience to get on with it, to get busy defending liberty or making a difference in the world to help soften the burdens of millions not yet free. John was both a romantic and a cynic, as some of have said, in love with and passionate about the causes he fought for, yet clear-eyed about the long odds he often faced in a world hostile to our ideals.
In trying to summarize John, just reviewing a few of his titles barely captures the sweep and complexity of this man--naval aviator, POW, captain, Congressman, Senator, chairman of the Commerce Committee, chairman of the Armed Services Committee, Presidential nominee of his party, statesman, hero.
John also treasured, deeply, two titles rarely mentioned here-- husband and father. He clearly loved his family and was every bit as privately passionate about them as he was publicly passionate about the causes he fought for here and around the world.
To Cindy and to all of John's family, thank you so much for sharing him with us, for sustaining him in his service over 60 years of his remarkable service to our Nation.
I was so honored to get to know John first as a colleague and then as a traveling companion and mentor and, in recent years, to be able to count him as a friend. We didn't always agree, or even often agree, on a very wide range of policy and political issues. On one thing in particular, I deeply admired and followed his lead as best I could. John was convinced what makes America great, what has always made America great, is its values, its principles; that we stand for something in the world, not the example of our power but the power of our example; that only when we fight for those values, when we fight for the values that define us apart from other powerful nations--for human rights, for freedom of speech and religious expression, for a free press, an independent judiciary, open and fair elections, for the very foundations of democracy as guarantors of human liberty--only then do we best use our power to act in the world.
What impact did John McCain have on those of us in the Senate and on our country? John commanded this Chamber when he spoke like few others I have ever known, and he commanded it precisely because he called us to our better selves, to put down the tools of petty partisanship so often on display here and to work together to fashion better solutions to the problems of our day.
It was a great honor to be his cosponsor on his last immigration reform bill earlier this year--a bill which offered not partisan promises but a way forward to fix our immigration system, which has, for far too long, been badly broken.
Indeed, from immigration to healthcare, national security to foreign relations, John challenged us, pushed us to act in ways more worthy of this place and its history as the greatest deliberative body on Earth, as a full equal to the Executive, our President, as a group elected and empowered over longer terms to know each other, to respect each other, and engage with each other in the real and hard and good work of advancing America's values at home and abroad.
What impact did John McCain have on me, the junior Senator from Delaware? First, my predecessor, former Senator and Vice President Joe Biden, let me know, from my first day here, that John was a treasure and a challenge and that I would, in serving alongside him, have a unique opportunity to learn from someone whose scope of experience was, in many ways, unmatched among our current Senate colleagues.
I had the honor of traveling with John, of seeing him at his absolute best, of seeing him show compassion for Syrian refugees at a camp in Jordan, hearing him confront corrupt foreign leaders and encourage our men and women in harm's way, and, most memorably, visiting Vietnam to see the genuine warmth with which the Vietnamese people and their leaders regarded him.
I first encountered John overseas on my first codel, or congressional delegation trip, just a few months into my first term, early in 2011. I was traveling with Senators Manchin, Corker, and Sanders, and we had visited Pakistan, Afghanistan, Jordan, and Israel. It was quite a group and a memorable trip at a time of great conflict, particularly in Afghanistan and Pakistan. It was our last day in Israel before returning home. I spotted former Senator Joe Lieberman of Connecticut at dinner at the David Citadel Hotel, and he waved me over. He and McCain had just finished a long dinner, and Lieberman asked me to sit down and talk about our trip, our experiences, and recent developments in Pakistan and Afghanistan.
McCain barely acknowledged my presence with a gruff grunt and seemed genuinely distracted and even annoyed as I was answering Joe Lieberman's questions, McCain looking around the room and barely paying any attention. After 10 minutes, John snapped to and asked me three pointed and challenging questions, testing my observations and my conclusions. Rattled and intimidated, I defended as best I could my insights before his withering questioning. McCain grunted and stormed off, and in the silence of his wake he left behind him, Joe Lieberman leaned over and said: I think he really likes you.
I said: How can you tell?
To which Lieberman responded: He wouldn't have bothered asking you those questions or waiting for your answers if he didn't think you had something to say.
There followed invitations to travel, which I accepted less often than I should have, but three trips were especially memorable. While visiting a refugee camp in Jordan where hundreds of Syrians had literally just arrived, fleeing the butchery of Assad's troops, John wept with compassion for women who recounted their husbands being murdered before them and their children being taken from them. John promised to fight for them and their cause relentlessly, and he did.
Just after inauguration last year at the North Atlantic Regional Security Conference in Halifax, Canada, I got to see John command respect across the board from political and military leaders from a dozen countries, and I heard as leaders from allies and partners across Europe--from the Baltics to the Balkins--pressed him for reassurance that we would keep our commitments, defend our values, and stand by their young democracies in the face of Russian aggression.
During that trip, too, Senator McCain, once again, reiterated his principled, unequivocal stand against the use of torture. His unwavering commitment on that issue at that critical time was just one of the many ways John nudged us ever closer to our ideals.
Finally, on an unforgettable trip to Vietnam just last June, I got to visit the Hanoi Hilton with John to hear his indescribable description of the deep deprivations of his long captivity and torture and then got to see in person
the high regard the people and leaders of Vietnam had for him as a warrior and a peacemaker, a statesman, and healer of the wounds of that war.
We admired John for all these things, but working with him in the Senate, traveling with him, many of us got to know him as not just a war hero and statesman but a colleague, even a friend. John's temper was quick and fierce. On more than one occasion, I swear he peeled the paint off the wall behind me with a fiery stream of profanity-laced invective, but he also, more often than not, later apologized, came around, listened, even considered. He was that breed of Senator--too rare today--who knew how to fight passionately, yet not make it personal; whom I could respect, even when I thought he was deeply wrong; who pushed me relentlessly to defend and explain my own positions and votes.
He showed unusual kindness to my children, my father and stepmother when they visited, and I was struck by the delight John took in visiting with schoolchildren and seniors, with people of all kinds of backgrounds when they visited this Capitol he loved.
He also took wicked delight in teasing, and testing and working with journalists, always letting them in on the joke or giving them a heads- up when good trouble was brewing.
Most importantly, Senator John McCain was genuinely humble, not the false modesty of a popular politician who knows he should feign indifference to the cheers of a crowd. No, John's humility was real, a demonstrated humility of one who knows he is a flawed and fallen human, as are we all, and then sets about being open and accountable for his shortcomings.
John, remarkably, for a modern politician, wrote and spoke about and acted on the ways in which he fell short. In an excellent recent HBO biography of him, ``For Whom the Bell Tolls,'' McCain subjected himself to accountability for chapters in his life I am certain he would have rather left forgotten in history.
In talking about the 2000 Presidential primaries, rather than simply blaming his opponents and their dirty tricks for his loss, John took responsibility for his failure to stand up in South Carolina against the practice of flying the Confederate flag over their State capitol.
John, even more strikingly, directly addressed his association with the Keating Five scandal. John McCain was cleared, but he viewed that scandal as part of the larger and growing problem of campaign finance that has threatened the ethics of all who serve here. Rather than moving past it, he owned it and acted on it, angering leaders in both parties by working relentlessly with Senator Feingold until they passed the McCain-Feingold campaign finance reform bill.
John also used his hardest personal experience to make some of his most important contributions. Having himself survived imprisonment and torture at the hands of his Vietnamese captors, Captain McCain could easily have returned home after those 5\1/2\ harrowing years in captivity to serve out his time and retire in comfort. Instead, he continued his cause of serving our Nation and, while here, worked tirelessly to champion those unjustly imprisoned around the world. Dissidents and activists who spoke up for freedom and against dictators knew no more dedicated friend than Senator McCain, and we on the Senate Human Rights Caucus intend to carry forward that work.
After 9/11, when our own country was engaged in enhanced interrogation techniques that could only be called torture, Senator McCain was irate and insisted we end a practice he knew was both of limited value and that demeans both tortured and torturer.
John's passion on this point wasn't just the pain of one who had experienced it himself, it was the pain of someone who loved his country and felt deeply the shame of episodes like Abu Ghraib and then worked to address them.
What will it mean to have Senator McCain no longer here with us? My fear and concern is, we will not soon see another Member of John's stature join us, a stature John earned over decades of service and a demonstrated willingness to put country over party and cause over self.
Senator McCain earned his ``Maverick'' title. It would serve all of us well to remember that even as his principled stands cost him the support of many in his party and even home State, he won the accolades of many more here and millions abroad who were delighted to see someone willing to risk reaching across the aisle and around the world from those hoping we will continue to fight for the values that best define America.
What should we do? What should we do to honor the memory and legacy of Senator McCain? First, fight the dreaded disease that took him from us, as it did my dear friend Beau Biden, beloved son of my predecessor Joe--Beau was taken too young--and Senator Ted Kennedy, another great lion of this Senate who was lost at a time he was needed most. Brain cancer has robbed us of our best and brightest, and we must work harder to cure and end this disease.
As has been proposed, I believe we should rename the great Senate building in which John served for decades, that we might keep his memory alive for future generations.
I also think we should strengthen and invest in national service, an expectation that all young Americans will serve their country in some way, military or civilian, which will take effort and investment, but service as a young man helped John fall in love with our Nation. At a time of great division, I can think of nothing greater to remind us of the spirit of service in which John lived his life than to make it possible for the hundreds of thousands of young Americans who want to serve--whether in Teach For America or Habitat for Humanity, the Peace Corps or our military--by expanding those opportunities for them to learn skills, commit themselves to our community and country, and earn tuition funds for college through service.
We must stay engaged internationally and lead by the power of our example. John would say this requires us to advance not just America's cherished values, but our interests--to stand against authoritarian leaders from Russia, China, North Korea, and Iran, and to stand with our democratic partners and allies like those in NATO.
Last, we have to continue in John's spirit of working across the aisle. I was struck, while hearing his remarkable speech in Philadelphia at the National Constitution Center, where my predecessor, Vice President Biden, spoke movingly in introducing him, and Senator McCain's acceptance of that award. It should be mandatory viewing at every high school in America. It was clear these two men, who served decades alongside each other, genuinely knew each other, knew each other's families, knew each other's values, respected each other, even though they rarely, if ever, agreed. We must do that too.
We have to demonstrate that we can work together and, like John, be cheerful and grateful in our service.
I caught my breath as I walked into this Chamber yesterday, seeing John's desk draped in black velvet and with white flowers rather than seeing his remarkable stature, hearing his punctuated speech and his dramatic call to action that so often rang through this space.
John, I will not soon meet another man like you, and I only hope to someday deserve the friendship you extended to a young and inexperienced Senator and to follow your example of genuine humility, dedication, and passion in tirelessly serving the greatest Nation on Earth and the best hope for freedom in our world.
Rest well, dear friend. May God Himself hold you in the palm of His hand and give peace to you and your family.
I yield the floor.