Floor Statements

Mr. President, I have never liked calling too much attention to today's date, February 20, but I figured my birthday would be as good a day as any to share with our colleagues a decision I made last year.

During my time in the Senate, I have only really answered to two constituencies: the Republican conference and the people of Kentucky. Over the years, that first group trusted me to coordinate campaigns, to count votes, to steer committees, to take the majority, and, on nine occasions, to lead our conference.

Serving as the Republican leader was a rare and, yes, rather specific childhood dream, and just about a year ago, I thanked my colleagues for their confidence which allowed me to fulfill it.

To the distinguished Members of this body I have had the privilege to lead, I remain deeply, deeply grateful.

Today, however, it is appropriate for me to speak about an even deeper allegiance and an even longer standing gratitude.

Seven times, my fellow Kentuckians have sent me to the Senate. Every day in between, I have been humbled by the trust they have placed in me to do their business right here. Representing our Commonwealth has been the honor of a lifetime. I will not seek this honor an eighth time. My current term in the Senate will be my last.

I have been a student of history my entire life. I can't remember the last time I didn't have a stack of biographies or political memoirs on my nightstand, and I know well how tempting it can be to read history with a sense of determinism: assuming that, somehow, notorious failures were inevitable; that crowning triumphs were predestined; and in either case, that lives and careers followed orderly paths.

This isn't, of course, how things work, and I have never had to look further than my own life to recognize it. I have never lost sight of the fact that without my mother's devoted care, a childhood encounter with polio could have turned out a lot worse; that unless my father hadn't taken a job in the Bluegrass State, my politics might have run a course somewhere else; that if it weren't for an eleventh-hour, outside-the-box idea on the campaign trail, my Senate career would have been over before it began; or that if not for the people of Kentucky time and again agreeing that leadership delivers and electing to send me back here, it would have been someone else from somewhere else taking that seat at the table where I have had a chance to work, strategize, fight, and win.

I grew up reading about the greatness of Henry Clay, but there were times when the prospect of etching my name into his desk in this Chamber felt like more of a long shot than making it to the Major Leagues. I got a front row seat to the greatness of Senator John Sherman Cooper of Kentucky as a summer intern in his office; but in so many moments in my early career, the idea of following in his footsteps felt more distant than the Moon.

So the only appropriate thing to take away today, apart from a healthy dose of pride, is my immense gratitude for the opportunity to take part in the consequential business of the Senate and the Nation: gratitude to the people I represent--Kentucky's families and farmers and miners and servicemembers and small business owners; gratitude to loyal friends, dedicated volunteers, and talented staff, who have helped me serve much better; gratitude to this institution that has repaid my devotion so generously over the years and to so many colleagues who have become great friends; gratitude for my family's support and, in particular, to my ultimate teammate and confidante over the last 32 years. Elaine's leadership and wise counsel, in their own right, have made her the most seasoned Cabinet official in modern history. On top of all that, her devotion to me and to Kentucky is a lot more than I deserve.

When I arrived in this Chamber, I wasn't coming with a Governor's statewide executive experience or a House Member's appreciation for Washington dynamics. I knew my hometown of Louisville, and I had spent the previous few years working hard to learn what mattered to folks all across the rest of the Commonwealth.

And yet, within weeks of swearing the oath, sure enough, I was here on the floor talking with colleagues from other far-flung corners of the country, discussing solutions to a farm income crisis and infrastructure challenges that affected different States in the same ways.

I learned quickly that delivering for Kentucky meant finding the ways the Commonwealth's challenges were actually tied to national debates: seeing to it that major agriculture legislation remembered Kentucky farmers, particularly including when they needed extraordinary assistance, like the tobacco buyout; making sure that nationwide steps on transportation infrastructure included resources for modernizing the Brent Spence Bridge, which supports billions of dollars in economic activity in Kentucky and the surrounding region; and, with the trust of the local community, finishing a task first assigned by President Reagan: the safe destruction of America's legacy chemical weapons at the Blue Grass Army Depot.

So efforts like these have spanned the length of my Senate career, and I have been humbled by each and every opportunity to help Kentucky punch above its weight.

Of course, the Senate has to grapple with foundational questions that reach even more broadly across American life and even further into posterity. We are trusted, on behalf of the American people, to participate in the appointment of the Federal judiciary, to be the final check on the assembly of power in the courts, beyond the reach of representative politics, and to ensure that the men and women who preside over them profess authentic devotion to the rule of law above all else.

When Members of this body ignore, discount, or pervert this fundamental duty, they do so not just at the peril of the Senate but of the whole Nation. The weight of our power to advise and consent has never been lost on me, and I have been honored to perform my role in confirming judges who understand their role.

On this floor, there is no place to hide from the obligations of article I, the Senate's unique relationship with article III, or our role in equipping the powers of article II. Here, every debate over agriculture or infrastructure or education or taxes is downstream of the obligations of national security. Every question of policy here at home is contingent on our duty to provide for the common defense.

One of the first times I spoke at length on this floor as a freshman, I was compelled to join the debate over strengthening the deterrence of America's nuclear triad. Whether to expand the U.S. military's hard- target nuclear capability was an interesting question to pose to someone whose most recent job had been running a county government.

But there, of course, was the Founders' brilliance at work: The hopes and dreams of every American are tied up in our ability to protect and defend the Nation and its interests. Every family traveling abroad and every worker and small business owner whose livelihood depends on foreign trade, they depend in turn on the credibility of America's commitments to friends and the strength of her threats to enemies.

In turn, the safety and success of the men and women who volunteer to serve this great Nation in uniform depend on the work we do here to ensure that enemies think twice--twice--before challenging them and those enemies never face a fair fight. Thanks to Ronald Reagan's determination, the work of strengthening America's hard power was well underway when I arrived in the Senate. But since then, we have allowed that power to atrophy, and, today, a dangerous world threatens to outpace the work of rebuilding it.

So lest any of our colleagues still doubt my intentions for the remainder of my term, I have some unfinished business to attend to.

In our work, most of us in this body develop an appreciation for the Senate itself--its written rules, its collegial norms, its pace of play. Yet so often I have watched colleagues depart, venting their frustration at the confines of the institution or mourning what they perceive to be the decline of its norms.

Regardless--regardless--of the political storms that may wash over this Chamber during the time I have remaining, I assure our colleagues that I will depart with great hope for the endurance--the endurance--of the Senate as an institution.

There are any number of reasons for pessimism, but the strength of the Senate is not one of them. This Chamber is still the haven where the political minority can require debate. It is still the crucible in which jurists are tested for

their fidelity to upholding the Constitution and laws as they were written. The Senate is still equipped for work of great consequence. And to the disappointment of my critics, I am still here on the job.

I yield the floor.

Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order for the quorum call be rescinded.

Mr. President, earlier this week, President Biden went to the State Department and offered a final assessment of his record on foreign policy. He insisted that his leadership had ``increased America's power in every dimension,'' that we were ``stronger at home, stronger in the world, and . . . more capable . . . than we have been in a long time.''

I suspect the only people who buy that assessment were right there in the room with the President. No doubt, those watching from further afield found those remarks unconvincing. What most of us saw was a final rearguard action to cover for an administration that has been in retreat for 4 straight years.

The President's tough talk about Putin is undone by his chronic and well-documented fear of escalation--the hesitation and half measures that kept critical tools out of Ukrainian hands when they could have made a difference. Even his most senior aides inadvertently acknowledged the truth. In a legacy-shopping column in the New York Times, Secretary Blinken and Secretary Austin say it was ``steadfast American leadership'' that rallied the world to ``help Ukraine survive the Kremlin's imperial onslaught.''

To help Ukraine survive. Not to help defeat aggression, not to help restore sovereignty, not to help degrade the power of a major adversary--just to let Ukraine's resistance languish on the slow drip of critical capabilities moving far slower than the speed of relevance.

Or take this administration's approach to the Middle East. On Monday, the President was optimistic about the prospects of defeating Iran's terror proxies and restoring credible deterrence under which Israel and its neighbors could live in peace. But absent entirely was any recognition that it was Israel, not the United States, that has created this geopolitical opportunity.

And no recognition that Israel has done so in spite of the administration's best efforts to restrain a sovereign ally's self- defense. In the 468 days since the horrors of October 7, the President's public scolding of a close ally under attack and refusal to check the growing anti-Israel streak poisoning his party have exposed his ironclad commitment to Israel as something of a hollow gesture.

This, after a disastrous withdrawal from Afghanistan had given allies and partners enough reason to doubt the strength of America's word--and his administration's competence.

And behind President Biden's bluster about ``winning the worldwide competition'' with China is a record of paltry investment in the hard power America needs to meet aggression and to reassure our allies.

For 4 straight years, he submitted defense budget requests that failed to even keep pace with inflation, let alone the pacing threat of the PRC.

While America's primary long-term strategic competitor extended its lead in developing and producing lethal capabilities, the Biden administration focused on climate diplomacy. And its signature climate protectionism picked avoidable trade fights with allies and

partners we will need to deter or defeat Chinese aggression.

In light of the PRC's headway and closer alignment with other adversaries, America's warfighters are no better equipped today to deter and defeat aggression than we were 4 years ago and no more certain that the institutions designed to support them actually have their backs.

And from Europe to the Middle East to the Taiwan Strait, the forces that wish harm to America, to our people, to our values, to our interests, and to our allies have seized an opportunity.

On Monday, President Biden's foreign policy will end, and a new Commander in Chief will have to contend with his staggering failures. A new administration will have to clean up the mess their predecessors made of American power and American credibility.

It is no secret that the incoming national security team will take a distinctly different approach. The President-elect has expressed repeatedly his intention to reorient American national security decision making around a simple guiding principle: peace through strength. And he would be right to do so.

His administration's work must begin with restoring American hard power and bolstering our deterrent. The world they will inherit is more dangerous and more hostile to U.S. security interests than the one he left to President Biden 4 years ago.

The free world is less likely to trust our commitments, and the authoritarians convening against us are more likely to scoff at our threats. Russia, Iran, North Korea, and the PRC are finding more and more that the desire to weaken the United States and undermine the order we lead is a shared objective and one toward which they are now working together in coordination to weaken the United States.

As I have counseled the President-elect already, we cannot afford to discount this coordination. No matter how loudly others press him to embrace retreat and retrenchment, America cannot address grave threats to our interests a la carte. And as I have said repeatedly, there is no language these adversaries understand more clearly than strength.

There is no surer way to restore meaningful deterrence against them than by investing in our capacity and proving our willingness to impose devastating costs.

It is common to refer to today's challenges as the gravest America has faced since World War II, but we certainly don't invest like we believe that is the case.

So here is a good way of looking at it: Beating the axis in World War II meant spending 37 percent of our GDP on defense; in the Korean War, it took nearly 14 percent; the height of Vietnam, 9 percent; the Reagan buildup at 6 percent. Today we are spending 3 percent of GDP on the arsenal of democracy.

Peace through strength must be more than a pithy phrase--vaguely tough-sounding but functionally benign. It must instead stand for a clear and measurable commitment to rebuild the arsenal of democracy and the most lethal fighting forces in the world.

As chairman of the Defense Appropriations Subcommittee, I take the President-elect's commitments very seriously, and I know he knows that deterring a war is cheaper than fighting one. And I stand ready to work closely with this administration in the current urgent work ahead, rebuilding the capabilities and capacity we need in order to credibly pursue peace through strength.

That work, of course, begins with assembling an experienced and well- qualified team. The incoming administration is right to expect swift consideration of Cabinet nominations and broad deference on the confirmation of nominees whose credentials and records prove them worthy of the highest public trust and whose policy views align with the administration's goal.

Nominees whose professional experience is commensurate with the responsibilities of the office and who have demonstrated in detail their command of relevant policy will certainly have my vote. I intend to support a large slate of nominees who satisfy these conditions. In particular, I will vote to confirm nominees to senior national security roles whose record and experience will make them immediate assets, not liabilities, in the pursuit of peace through strength.

Our chance to turn the page on the damage of the Biden administration's record simply cannot come soon enough.

Mr. President, in the early 1800s, a band of pioneers settled in Kentucky's Jackson Purchase founding what would become McCracken County. At the confluence of the Tennessee and Ohio Rivers, this settlement grew over time into a bustling center for business, agriculture, and the arts. This year, on their bicentennial anniversary, the people of McCracken County will pay tribute to two centuries of rich history and cultural heritage, and today, I am proud to join them as they mark this impressive milestone.

The county was named in tribute to Captain Virgil McCracken, a brave Kentuckian who made the ultimate sacrifice in the Battle of the River Raisin during the War of 1812. Like much of the rest of the Purchase, McCracken County was blessed with fertile land and grew, thanks to its easy access to Kentucky's inland waterways. Dry dock facilities for steam and towboats soon cropped up, while Paducah, the county seat of McCracken County since 1832, became an important railway hub. By the turn of the 19th century, McCracken County formed an integral part of Kentucky's commerce, culture, and governance.

Around this time, the county produced one of our State's most prominent political figures, Alben Barkley. The story goes that Barkley bought a ``one-eyed horse named Dick'' to transport him all across McCracken County during his first campaign for county attorney. But the secret to Barkley's success was less his mode of transportation than his amiable and empathetic personality. Not one to waste time, Barkley quickly found his footing on the national political stage, rising from Congressman to Senator to Senate majority leader to our Nation's 35th Vice President under President Harry Truman. Barkley continues to cast a long shadow on Kentucky's political history, something I am reminded of daily. I mean this quite literally; this son of McCracken County continues to hold a prominent place in my office, his portrait hanging on the wall of my Capitol office, alongside that of Senator John Sherman Cooper.

Another important moment in McCracken's history came in the Cold War, when the community bolstered American security at the Paducah Gaseous Diffusion Plant, which began production of enriched uranium in 1952. For many years, the plant remained the only operating uranium enrichment facility in the United States. While that work has since completed, the plant's employees remain dedicated to their jobs and the important work they perform each day to transition this facility into the future.

Today, McCracken County remains the heart of America's inland waterways and a center for creativity and folk art that serves as the gateway to west Kentucky's history and opportunity. Kentuckians from all across the Commonwealth travel to Paducah each year, the cherished home of the National Quilt Museum and other famed attractions like the Paducah Riverfront, the Paducah Railroad Museum, the Tilghman Civil War Museum, the Inland Waterways Museum, and the William Clark Market House Museum, the county's oldest museum. It is no surprise that, every year, more and more families decide to call McCracken County home. With the leadership of Judge Executive Craig Clymer, the Paducah Area Chamber of Commerce, and other dedicated Kentuckians, this vibrant community will continue to succeed in our Commonwealth. I ask my Senate colleagues to join me in honoring McCracken County and its 200 years of history and heritage.

Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent to complete my remarks prior to the next rollcall vote.

Mr. President, it is not entirely clear yet how or when Congress will conclude its end-of-the-year business. But when the Senate does adjourn, I will just about mark the end of my tenure as the Republican leader.

I have made it clear this year that our colleagues haven't seen the last of me. I still fully intend to keep frustrating my critics in the years ahead. But while I still command this particular podium, I thought I might make a few observations I have picked up along the way.

Folks come to Washington to do one of two things: either to make a point or to make a difference--to make a point or to make a difference. It is usually not that hard to tell who is doing which, especially in situations like the one we are in right now.

The people who are here to make a difference recognize pretty quickly you never get everything you want, but, often, you can get quite a lot. And the folks who prefer to make a point have a funny habit of reminding us out loud how poorly they understand that fact.

I don't care to count how many times I have reminded our colleagues-- and our House counterparts--how harmful it is to shut the government down and how foolish it is to bet your own side won't take the blame for it.

Recent history doesn't leave a whole lot of room for interpretation on this one: When you try to use normal government function as a bargaining chip, you pay a political price.

That said, if I took it personally every time my advice went unheeded, I probably wouldn't have spent as long as I have in this particular job. Getting a legislative outcome in the Senate requires large majorities of people who don't share all of the same views to actually work together toward outcomes where they do see eye to eye.

We have had divided government here most of the time I have been in this job; neither side has owned the place. You have a choice: Do nothing or try to find things you can agree on and do them together.

With the exception of just one short period of a few months, this place hasn't seen a filibuster-proof Senate in 50 years. Getting things done almost inevitably requires dealing with a lot of people who disagree with you on most things.

And in the interests of stable, enduring outcomes, that is actually a good thing. Anyone who comes to the Senate hoping for a rigid, hard- line conformity and prompt action is barking up the wrong tree.

I have heard folks who like making a point, they would rather serve with 30 colleagues who all agree than with a majority who didn't. So if you want to accomplish absolutely nothing--nothing--sign up with the group that would rather serve with 30 people who all agree than those who have differences.

Everyone I know who is interested in making a difference understands pretty quickly that it requires that kind of interaction in order to achieve something.

Leading means letting folks take a walk when they need to and rallying together when we need to. I have been so grateful over the years to lead majorities that embrace these necessary rhythms. I am gratified by the trust they have placed in me, repeatedly, to determine what that moment requires. And I am so proud of the outcomes we have achieved for our country.

I am looking forward to spending the next Congress as a member of another majority in a set of capable hands. I am rooting hard for my friend John Thune and the leadership team our conference has assembled around him. There will be no shortage of important work to do, and I will stand ready to do my part.

Back in 2007, my first day in this job, I told our colleagues:

The Senate has no claim on greatness unless its power is

put to great ends.

And I stated my view that ``the first duty of government is the defense and protection of its citizens.'' The Senate

is great, and so is the Nation that it represents. But today, our Nation faces one great challenge from forces betting on our decline. And so that first duty of government is the task to which I will devote my efforts in the coming years.

Our prosperity and security depend on an order forged by American leadership and American strength--both of which require our urgent attention.

The arsenal of democracy must be restored. Peace through strength must, once again, actually mean something other than just a slogan, and I am going to do everything in my power to help continue this to be the greatest country in the world.

No one can do what we do internationally, and that is where I am going to put my focus for the next 2 years.

Thank you all for the opportunity.

(Applause, Senators rising.)

Madam President, for months now, I have been calling the Senate's attention to the extraordinary people who have served me, this institution, and our Nation so well and for so long in the Republican leader's office.

Today, I have reached the end of the list. My one remaining task is to prepare our colleagues for a Senate without Sharon Soderstrom.

To tell the story of my chief of staff, you might start in 2010 when she assumed that title or in 2007 when she joined my team or, perhaps, back in 1999 when she set up in the Republican leader's suite for the first time. But if you want to make sense of the person I have been so fortunate to have at my right hand--the friend and counselor I have trusted so deeply for so long--it is worth starting at the beginning with the people who have made Sharon Soderstrom who she is.

Sharon grew up in Stony Brook, NY, on the campus of the Christian school where her father was a teacher and headmaster. In the house on campus, where Karl and Jean Soderstrom raised Sharon, along with her brother Mark and her sister Cheryl, faith and learning were unshakable cornerstones. Quite literally, the windows of Sharon's bedroom looked out on one side to the chapel and on the other side to the classrooms. When you hear about Sharon's upbringing for the first time, everything you know about her starts to make even more sense.

My seniormost adviser is a woman of integrity and a teacher who leads by example. And rather than reinvent the wheel, I think the best way to sum up her distinguished service is through some of the lessons that her favorite teacher--her dad--taught in the same way.

Lesson No. 1: Do meaningful work for a long time among peers who become lifelong friends.

A long time ago--I won't tell quite how long--Sharon began her meaningful work here in the Senate. As a junior legislative aide to a freshman Senator, the prospect of devoting her life to this institution might not yet have

crossed her mind, but the Senate was beginning to reel her in and work its will all the same.

Sharon likely wouldn't have allowed herself to have imagined that, someday, the Senate's sharpest minds would bring their weightiest questions to her or that, eventually, an entire institution would come to lean on her voluminous legislative knowledge, her plumb-and-true political analysis, and her wise personal counsel. And if she had, her deep humility wouldn't have let it show.

Instead, perhaps the sharpest and most singularly capable staff leader the Senate has ever seen chose to invest her time and talents in building teams, in mentoring colleagues, and in making a series of the highest profile principals look a lot smarter than we have deserved. She has spent her time in public service notching accomplishments of the greatest consequence on the most visible stage, all while nimbly deflecting the praise.

But what Sharon hasn't been able to dodge is the admiration of legions of colleagues, past and present, who count standing in the trenches with her among the greatest honors of their careers. It is no mystery why Sharon's calendar fills so quickly with invitations to celebrate weddings and birthdays, and it is no surprise how readily she clears her schedule to be with friends and colleagues in moments of grief. Our friend--our chief--has done meaningful work for its own sake, but she has got the admirers to prove it.

I will turn now to the second lesson from Mr. Soderstrom: Decide to live as a servant, and take every moment as an opportunity to practice.

Public service--it is there right in the name; yet the brand of gracious and selfless leadership that has become Sharon's calling card and the thoughtful courtesy which comes naturally to her, these are exceedingly rare.

I was reminded recently of an occasion years ago--at about this time in December--when one of the juniormost members of our front office team brought a familiar concern to Sharon. The cheapest flight she could find to get home for the holidays was nonrefundable, and it was looking more and more like the Senate might have to spend Christmas at work. What should she do?

Sharon didn't hesitate. She told this young lady to keep her flight, to get home safely, and the team would make do. In fact, the team did make do, and Sharon was the first to volunteer to cover her shift at the front desk.

I am certain that no one who knows her would be surprised to hear this--certainly not any of us who have watched Sharon summon the strength--even when her enormous professional responsibilities have weighed heaviest--to be a loyal sister, a loving aunt to her nephew Karl, and a devoted caregiver to both of her parents in their final years.

May the Record reflect that the Senate's most influential staff leader chooses every day to live as a servant.

The third lesson is to laugh often and, as I am sure Sharon's dad would add, not just when there is cause to be joyful.

That means laughing even when you don't get the reference, as Sharon does good-naturedly when her colleagues use sporting analogies around the office. Of course, it helps that, almost invariably, such references are meant as compliments. It is like when they compare her legislative and procedural chops to Willie Mays' dual threat of speed and power or when a wise former colleague likened staffing the Republican leader's office around Sharon to building a starting lineup around a franchise player.

But in a job as strenuous and demanding as Sharon's, laughing often means finding levity in even the most confounding circumstances--for example: the time she and a colleague were leaving the White House after a completely fruitless negotiation in the middle of a government shutdown. As I understand it, after walking out the wrong exit, they heard a guard with a machine gun yelling: ``Stop!'' Without missing a beat, my top adviser turned to her colleague and remarked: If we just keep walking, this can all be over.

(Laughter.)

Fortunately for me and for the entire country, even in the bleakest of stalemates, Sharon was just joking. Heeding these lessons isn't some simple, surefire formula for producing a prolific public servant in the mold of Sharon. Devotion to meaningful work is always good advice. And, yes, if more people practiced servant leadership and learned to laugh more, the world would be a much better place.

But let's be absolutely clear: Sharon Soderstrom is one of one. The combination of unflappable calm, unassailable integrity, unwavering conviction, and unshakable devotion that resides in my chief of staff is greater than the sum of its parts.

One of Sharon's former colleagues on that staff once described her office as an emergency room, where colleagues would wheel in stretchers heaped with big, thorny problems and a head doctor with nerves of absolute steel would begin to set things right.

Invariably, Sharon's steady demeanor inspired confidence in others. Her resolve bolstered morale, and from the most niche institutional matters to the heaviest questions of national policy, her utter and complete competence carried the day.

Now, I will admit I wasn't the first Member of the body to recognize Sharon's talents--not even the first Republican leader--but claiming dibs on Sharon and managing to keep her for so long have been among my proudest accomplishments.

Come January, the Senate will convene again. The 119th Congress will bring us a new slate of weighty business, new moments of minor crisis, and new opportunities to better serve the Nation that we all love. But in the most trying moments and the most triumphant ones, a great many of us will feel like something is missing. We will miss having Sharon-- the 101st Senator--on the case and at our sides.

Sharon, you have served the Senate with honor. You are the greatest at what you do. You have modeled the lessons of the ones you look up to most, and you have earned countless friends who look up to you. The proudest triumphs of my time in this office have been your doing, and I am forever in your debt.

Mr. President, on November 29, 2024, the Commonwealth of Kentucky lost a towering figure in my home State's Republican Party with the passing of my dear friend Bob Gable. Today, it is my privilege to honor his extraordinary life and legacy.

A proud member of our Greatest Generation, Bob served his country as an officer in the Navy shortly after earning a degree from Stanford in industrial engineering. Bob had a deep sense

of patriotism and an instinct to lead early in life. Soon after his service, he and his beloved wife Emily settled in Stearns, KY, where Bob joined the family business, the Stearns Lumber and Coal Company. Known as the ``last company town'' in the Commonwealth, the business supported thousands in Kentucky's coal country and was an anchor of the region.

Bob's interest in politics began during these early years, working on the first Senate campaign of former U.S. Senate Republican Leader Howard Baker. Under Baker's wing, Bob made his political bones and discovered what would become a lifelong passion: serving the people and advancing conservative values. Eventually, Bob and Emily moved to Frankfort, where he served as an appointee of Kentucky Governor Louie Nunn, the Commonwealth's only Republican Governor for over half a century.

Though Republicans in the Commonwealth faced steep odds, Bob stepped up to lead, launching spirited bids for Senate in 1972 and for Governor in 1975. Never one to take himself too seriously, he became an early sensation on his first campaign for Governor with his now infamous truth bell, which he rang each time his opponent told a lie. Bob lost his bid for Governor, but his candidacy brought energy and dynamism Republicans in the Commonwealth desperately needed. Most of all, he was an optimistic champion of Republican values when the polls, voter rolls, and election results gave Republicans every reason to feel otherwise.

In 1986, Bob became the chair of the Republican Party of Kentucky, inheriting a party that held only one statewide seat and reportedly had only $300 in the bank. As chairman, he planted seeds wherever and whenever, convincing budding Republicans across the State to get involved in races at every level. Slowly, brick by brick, his quiet, diligent work transformed our party from a super minority to a competitive minority to a majority. Bob would also serve our party on the Republican National Committee, where he became the longest serving State chairman of any State in the country.

Needless to say, much in our party and the Commonwealth has changed since Bob's entrance onto Kentucky's political scene, largely thanks to his unflappable focus and the groundwork Bob laid during his decades of service. While we remember Bob's trailblazing runs for higher office fondly, his true legacy lies in his relentless commitment to building our party and advancing the Republican cause in Kentucky. Whether it was a local race for county judge-executive or a statewide bid for U.S. Senate, Bob cast a wide net when it came to supporting his fellow Republicans. For so many distinguished leaders in Kentucky, Bob was the first call in a budding career, the early endorsement on a new campaign, or the quiet, steady voice encouraging them to run and serve.

For Bob, politics was truly a labor of love, but none of this work would have been possible without Bob's greatest love, his family. We owe Bob's late wife Emily and their three children James, Elizabeth, and John our gratitude for the time Bob gave to serving others. Anyone who was lucky enough to know Bob could see the immense pride he had in his family, his faith, and his country. On behalf of the Senate, I send sincere condolences to Bob's many friends and loved ones. We are grateful they shared him with us for so many years. Kentucky was made better as a result.

Mr. President, the ``Kentucky Lantern'' recently published an article on Bob's life and service. I ask unanimous consent that a copy of the article be printed in the Record.

Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order for the quorum call be rescinded.

Mr. President, last week, the House passed the Water Resources bill with broad bipartisan support. Today, it is the Senate's turn to act.

Thanks in large part to the leadership of Ranking Member Capito and her team, the sensible legislation before us will strengthen our Nation's water infrastructure from the Everglades, to the Port of Los Angeles, to the inland waterways that course through Kentucky.

It is good news for communities across the country. From clean drinking water, to ecosystem maintenance, to storm resiliency, to navigable waterways for trade and commerce, the bill before us takes a comprehensive approach. Because our communities understand their challenges better than any bureaucrat in Washington, this bill will provide the flexibility to tailor solutions to each community's unique needs.

I am also pleased it will authorize several projects important to the health and well-being of Kentuckians. One will build out infrastructure for water and wastewater treatment in Appalachia--always a concern of rural communities across America's heartland. Another will help secure safe and reliable drinking water for the growing number of families in Scott County. Finally, another will update Greenbrier Lake Dam, which supplies water for Kentuckians across Montgomery County.

So far, an impressive, broad coalition has thrown their support behind this bill, from ports and shippers, to farm groups and unions, to dozens of industry leaders who rely on our waterways to move goods, protect jobs, and keep costs low for the American people.

I appreciate the House's work to move this must-pass bill forward in bipartisan fashion. Obviously, I hope the Senate will do the same today.

Biden Administration

Mr. President, President Biden's decision earlier this month to pardon his son may well have set a unique and unfortunate precedent. But abuse of the Presidential pardon doesn't stop there.

Last week, the President went on to commute 1,500 sentences, and the way liberal activists see it, he should have done even more.

More than 20 liberal, retired judges--including the Boston radical who recommended the disgraced, pro-crime U.S. attorney Rachael Rollins--have now urged the President to turn his eye to Federal death sentences. They claim that the Federal death penalty is ``rife with fundamental problems,'' including race discrimination and poor representation of defendants.

But this is not just some theoretical recommendation about systemic injustice. If the President heeded these former judges' call, it would mean commuting the death sentences of the mass murderer who slaughtered Black churchgoers at Mother Emanuel in Charleston and the perpetrator of the massacre at the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh. Are these men the victims of systemic racism? Did they have inadequate counsel? Of course not. They are mass murderers, guilty beyond any doubt whatsoever.

Let's be clear what commuting these sentences would mean. It would mean that the laws passed by Congress and applied by our judges and juries have no value. It would mean that progressive politics is more important to the President than the lives taken by these murderers. It would mean that society's most forceful condemnation of White supremacy and anti-Semitism must give way to legal mumbo jumbo.

The irony of claims of systemic racism causing the President to spare Dylann Roof is ludicrous--ludicrous--to the point of tragedy.

This is no legacy a President should seek.

Tribute to Kyrsten Sinema

Now, Mr. President, on an entirely different matter from the President's unfortunate legacy, I would like to close with just a few words about another of our departing colleagues, the senior Senator from Arizona. It is, perhaps, unconventional for the leader of one party to pay formal tribute to a departing Senator who caucused with the other side, but then Kyrsten Sinema has never had trouble with bucking a trend.

For one thing, she has spent her 6 years in this body earning levels of influence, respect, and command of policy that are uncommon among Senate freshmen. She has thrown herself into worthwhile projects, done the heavy lifting of legislation, and kept at it when longer tenured colleagues might have thrown in the towel. Needless to say, Senator Sinema's maverick streak extends to her efforts to broaden the Senate's fashion horizons as well.

But the cornerstone of our colleague's legacy in this Chamber will be her willingness to defend the Senate, the Senate itself, when saying nothing would have been a great deal easier. Arizona's senior Senator stood up in the face of a grave threat to this institution's defining characteristic, and she said no--no--and in doing so, she sent a message that will resonate long after her departure from the Chamber.

I admire our colleague for the courage, wisdom, and clarity that have guided her service for the people of Arizona and for the entire Nation, and I wish her the very best in her next chapter.

Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order for the quorum call be rescinded.

Mr. President, for many years running, a familiar morning ritual has played out just a few steps from my desk here in the Capitol. A lamp turns on, illuminating a shelf where an embroidered pillow reads ``Not my circus, not my monkeys.'' Invariably, a cold Diet Coke is cracked open. Perhaps a moment of reflection on Peggy Noonan's timeless observation that ``the constant possibility of quiet revenge keeps one peppy.'' Then my deputy chief of staff for operations, Stef Muchow, opens her office for business.

Stef works at a busy crossroads. Just about everything time- sensitive, confidential, or otherwise important that is headed my way stops at her desk first, and that is by design. There is no one else who can spend and accumulate institutional capital in my name with Stef's confidence; no one else who commands such a comprehensive awareness of my interests and priorities; no one else who embraces ``other duties as assigned'' with her unwavering devotion.

Now, this might sound like the sort of high praise any one of our colleagues would hope to give to a close adviser of two decades. I am sure it is what each of them would want to say about a bright, instinctive, effusively patriotic staffer who finished college a year and a half early and poured herself into public service at the highest level. I don't doubt that each of our colleagues is fortunate to enjoy the fierce loyalty to their staff, but I am quite certain that I am the only one in the Senate who has been blessed by the furious loyalty of Stef.

There is no portfolio--or more accurately, no collection of portfolios--anywhere in Washington quite like the one I have handed to Stef. And that makes sense because there is no one else who could handle it quite like her.

Around my office, the bench in Stef's office is where colleagues come for guidance and gut checks. Across the entire Senate, any number of people can think of times when it was Stef's wisdom, discretion, candor, loyalty, diplomacy, tact, or political savvy that made all the difference. I can think of hundreds.

No one else sees the whole board--from policy objectives, to political considerations, to protocol sensitivities, to personal circumstances--like Stef does. That may have something to do with the fact that she has seen my Senate office operations from just about every vantage point over the years.

For Stef, there has been no task too small, no job that wasn't worth doing right. As it turns out, this approach has been contagious. Stef's role so often demands uncompromising efficiency and the utmost discretion, and yet she still seems to seize every opportunity to bring the McTeam closer together as family.

Of course, Stef's other duties as assigned include covering much larger groups than the professionals I am proud to call my staff. In every corner of the building, her name is synonymous with mastery of the ceremonial protocols that transform the Capitol into a national stage. This is the place where America inaugurates our Presidents, bids farewell to fallen heroes, and bestows our highest honors, and very little of it takes place without Stef's knowledge, input, orchestration, or blessing. When you think about it, this diplomatic grace and eye for detail make sense coming from someone who probably hasn't missed a British royal wedding or an Olympic opening ceremony in her entire life. Don't worry--Stef cheers for Team USA, loud and proud.

But I would be remiss in talking about grace without mentioning the ways she has shown it in the face of the most demanding challenges we have seen together.

When the pandemic arrived, Stef's ability to balance sensitive considerations and competing interests was invaluable--not just to me but to the entire Senate. Her approach to big, thorny questions about protecting Senators and staff while upholding our duties helped us make the right calls when there were any number of ways to make the wrong ones. In truly unchartered territory, Stef's poise was decisive. As leaders across the institution faced a blank page and a daunting, once- in-a-century task, she took action--not because it would be easy but because it had to be done.

For years, this has been something of a theme: If it had to be done, it had to be Stef. If it had to be airtight and discreet, it had to be Stef. If it had to navigate political and personal sensitivities just right, it had to be Stef.

In this job, it is important to have a few people around you who really do know every aspect of your life, who you can trust without question, who will guard your confidences, and who will give you honest feedback. I am tremendously fortunate and proud of the countless ways Stef rises to these responsibilities over and over again.

But I am hardly the only one who gets to take pride in what Stef has accomplished. I share that distinction with the family who makes Stef who she is today--with her parents Gary and Dianne, her sisters Abbey and Leslie, and with the ones she rushes home to when the immense demands of the Senate grant a brief respite: her husband Scott and their beloved daughter Lily.

I am not sure my words here can ever begin to capture the significance of the first and last person I speak to every day, but there is perhaps no better illustration of Stef's love for our country and for the Senate than her sacrifice of time with the ones she loves the most.

So, to Stef, I am so grateful to you for everything you have done both for the Senate and for me.

Madam President, as is typical this time of year, the Senate's attention is focused squarely on a long list of business, with deadlines fast approaching. Extending government funding by Friday is our top priority. Shutting the government down is a one-way ticket to needless disruption of important functions. It has never been a winning proposition, and this time is no different.

Delivering urgent disaster relief is a nonnegotiable. As communities across the country continue to pick up the pieces from a devastating storm season, they are watching closely for the Senate to deliver on the promise of a much needed helping hand.

And after months of unnecessary delay, the Senate will finally vote on the National Defense Authorization Act. The Armed Services Committee reported this year's NDAA 6 months ago by an overwhelming bipartisan vote. The fact that it has only reached the floor a week before Christmas is really inexcusable; so is the absence of a vote on defense appropriations legislation. And the blame for this neglect will rest squarely on the outgoing Senate majority. Ranking Member Wicker and our colleagues on the committee tried mightily to ensure that the final bill--Congress's main annual opportunity to shape national defense priorities--backs tough talk on growing threats with the tools required to meet them.

But the NDAA, like all major legislation, is a compromise product, and the absence of the Senate-backed increase

to topline investments will go down as a tremendous--tremendous--missed opportunity. Artificial budget restraints mean that major bill provisions, like a pay raise for enlisted servicemembers, will come at the expense of investments in the critical weapons systems and munitions that deter conflict and keep them safe.

For all the talk about growing threats to America's national security, it is past time for an honest conversation about the military requirements to meet those needs. And if this NDAA offers any valuable lesson, it is that we have a tremendous amount of work to do.

Tribute to Mike Braun

Madam President, on an entirely different matter, my earliest participation in politics was wearing an ``I like Ike'' pin on school picture day. But, last month, the State of Indiana was chanting: ``I like Mike.''

Mike Braun's fellow Hoosiers like him so much, in fact, they have decided to steal him back from Washington to be their Governor. And if I know anything about Indiana's junior Senator, he is probably looking forward to trading in the trappings of this institution for a job a lot closer to home. But I would like to say just a few words before he goes.

Years ago, a local reporter asked Mike Braun about his approach to life and work. He told them:

You live like you are going out of business every day, and

it makes you healthy.

For a spry, former three-sport athlete like Mike, that much checks out. But, needless to say, in the process of keeping him young, our colleague's mantra also brought a fair bit of political success.

Sure, a cushy, white-collar gig and a predictable corporate ladder would have been the natural next step for a high achiever fresh out of Harvard Business School. But where is the fun in that? For Mike, in order to live like you are going out of business, you have to run a business yourself. You have to build a team and take risks. And what better place to do that than in your own hometown.

Most of us are familiar with at least some of what came next for Mike and his high school sweetheart Maureen. The life and professional lessons of Mike's dad Amos, a decorated World War II vet; steering a 15-person operation through the aftermath of the 1980s farm crisis and turning it into a national team spread across 38 States; for years, running that success, with sleeves rolled up, from a trailer office; and raising four kids along the way, three of whom have found their own callings in the family business--as I understand it, we have Maureen to thank that this incredible story of hard work and entrepreneurial spirit took a turn into politics in the first place. When friends around Jasper tried drafting her to run for the school board, she offered Mike instead. And so began two decades and counting of life in politics.

Here in the Senate, Mike's ``going out of business'' approach to public service made an early impression. Careful observers ranked him, at one point, the most effective freshman in the Chamber. He dove head first into legislation that mattered to him and to Indiana. He advocated passionately for farmers and for families impacted by rare diseases. He fought for outcomes, and he stood on principle.

But Hoosiers will be proud to know that he still doesn't like dressing up here on the Senate floor. And who can blame him? By Mike's own admission, most of what he likes to do--tend the farm, fish, and hunt both animals and mushrooms--he can do within 60 miles of Jasper. So it speaks to Mike's commitment to his neighbors that, even though he is leaving Washington, he is not quite going home just yet, nor will he be able to hang up the coat and the tie.

The trust of the people of Indiana is rightly a great source of pride for our colleague, second only to his pride in the family he and Maureen built, and I know he can't wait to get to work for all of them in Indianapolis.

So I know I speak for our colleagues when I thank Mike for his service these past 6 years. We wish him all the best in his next chapter.

Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order for the quorum call be rescinded.

Mr. President, on January 20, 2021, President Biden broke with longstanding precedent and fired the general counsel of the National Labor Relations Board. I guess if you campaign on establishing ``the most pro-union administration in American history,'' then replacing duly appointed officials with Big Labor acolytes is certainly a day one priority. As we know, this was an area where the President really did do his level best to make good on his campaign promises.

Setting aside his Acting Secretary of Labor's record presiding over perhaps the biggest state UI fraud in American history, President Biden's NLRB has worked overtime to pollute employer-employee relations across the country with vague new standards, distort longstanding free speech principles, and wage all-out war on small business franchisers.

The NLRB member who has held primary responsibility for executing on the Biden Big Labor agenda is its Chair, Lauren McFerran, and she is up for confirmation to another term.

If the Board's public actions over the last 4 years are not telling enough, I would urge our colleagues to consider the gross mismanagement on Ms. McFerran's watch that took an independent inspector general report to uncover--serious violations of electoral procedures and coverup attempts, to boot. This is to say nothing of the fact that her confirmation would give a lameduck President control of an independent Board well into his successor's term.

In this case, there are any number of reasons not to reward bad behavior, and whichever our colleagues choose, I hope they will join me in opposing the McFerran nomination tomorrow.

Madam President, in a matter of weeks, President Biden will hand off his authority to a new Commander in Chief, and his administration will submit its stewardship of U.S. foreign and national security policy to the judgment of posterity.

Already, the contours of history are coming into focus. On this administration's watch--and, frequently, at its tacit invitation--the gravest threats to America, our allies, and our global interests have grown and aligned more closely.

Senior administration officials insist that the exact opposite is true and that they are preparing to hand off a world that is safer and more stable than they found it. This sort of spin isn't surprising; it is just profoundly untrue. And nowhere is the administration's revisionist gaslighting more blatant or bizarre than in its account of events in the Middle East.

Yesterday's collapse of the Assad regime in Syria was a stunning close to a half a century of authoritarian rule and 13 years of senseless slaughter, torture, and innocent suffering. Bashar

Assad is an agent of Iran, an ally of Russia, and a butcher whose hands are stained with so much innocent blood that the death toll defies precise counting.

The destination of this butcher's flight from Damascus over the weekend is telling. Fellow dictators still find a warm welcome in Putin's Moscow, and, I might add, so do unrepentant traitors like Edward Snowden.

It is quite clear that the recent lightning success of Syrian rebel groups is due, in part, to the distraction of the Assad regime's essential patrons. For more than a decade, assistance from Russia and Iran has shored up the twin pillars of Assad's rule: oppression and fear. But today, Russian attention and resources are tied up in a protracted war of aggression over in Ukraine, and Iran is busy propping up a network of terrorist proxies that Israel has dealt savage blows.

If you ask the Biden administration, this was all part of the plan. The President himself said as much yesterday. He noted that the Assad regime's strongest backers--Russia, Iran, and Hezbollah--are weaker today than they were 4 years ago, as if to suggest that it was his administration's policy that made these events possible. But my colleagues--and, for that matter, America's allies and partners--know a lot better than that. We know that, to the extent that our adversaries are weaker today than they were when the President took office, it is in spite of his chronic hesitation and half measures in the conduct of American foreign policy.

Ukraine has blunted Russian military power, in spite of this administration's unfounded fear of escalation and repeated withholding of lethal assistance. Israel has put Iran and its proxies on the back foot, in spite--in spite--of this administration's repeated efforts to dictate the terms of Israel's military operations and its ongoing freeze on the transfers of essential precision munitions.

If the Assad regime's brutality was an abiding concern for the President or if the ongoing plight of the Syrian people factored meaningfully into his administration's policy, then his National Security Advisor's description of the Middle East, last fall, as ``quieter than it has been for decades'' is even more incongruous than the horrors of October 7 already made it.

If the President now intends to claim credit for bringing a potential end to Syria's grinding civil war, it begs the question why, as Vice President, he agreed with President Obama's decision not to enforce his self-imposed redline on Assad's use of chemical weapons.

The last Democratic administration's approach to Syria helped Russia displace American influence and helped Iran turn it into its staging ground for its terrorist proxies' war on Israel. The current Democratic administration's scolding and hectoring of the Jewish State has made defending against this war more difficult.

The Commander in Chief's record will speak for itself. History will reflect that, if this administration wanted to heed the urging of leaders of both parties in Congress and deliver the sort of lethal capabilities and permissions Ukraine needed to defend against Russian aggression at the speed of relevance, it was fully empowered to do so.

And had this President even once expressed a willingness to take a serious bipartisan approach to the Middle East's primary agents of chaos in Tehran--and its proxies and vassals from Yemen to Syria--it would have found willing partners on this side of the aisle. I made this much crystal clear from the first days of his administration.

At best, the Biden administration has been an impassive observer. At worst, it restrained America's friends from defending themselves and hampered the otherwise transformational success of Israel's operation against the enemies who actually started the war.

In spite of the administration's fixation on deescalation, Israel decimated Hezbollah, the crown jewel of Iran's terror web. While the administration obsessed over the illusion of returning to the stable status quo, Israel actually turned the tables on Iran and its proxies.

Today, there is no longer such a status quo in Syria. After years of war stoked by Russia and Iran, the prospects of a beleaguered Syrian people are certainly complicated and uncertain. But the fall of the Assad regime is an opportunity for our partners in the Middle East to chart a new future and to press the advantage earned by Israel's decisive operations and uproot Iran's remaining influence throughout the region.

Mr. President, every year, scores of bright young people arrive on Capitol Hill to begin careers of public service. On the whole, they tend to be bright, ambitious, principled, and patriotic. I have been fortunate to have the best of them on my team.

But I am certain no one has ever shown up on day one better prepared to advocate for a State he is not from than my deputy chief of staff of policy, Scott Raab.

From the moment he walked in the door in 1999, Scott knew as much about my legislative record and about Kentucky's priorities as anyone on the team. Before long, he was fluent in the Commonwealth's smallest towns and counties. Somewhere along the way, he turned into a rabid fan of Kentucky basketball. And for years, new arrivals to my staff in the Republican leader office have consistently mistaken this honorary son of the Bluegrass for a native one.

I say all this to make it clear the kind of person we are dealing with. This is the sort of friend and adviser that simply doesn't grow on trees: the natural whiz who still studies relentlessly; the wonk whose expertise runs both deep and wide; the man for whom loyalty is not a transactional currency but a way of life; and, of course, the champion of ``Blue Shirt Thursday'' and the only member of my staff who can pull off the bow tie.

This exceedingly rare breed--this is Scott Raab. As my policy director, there is no topic that falls outside his portfolio. And there is no problem that isn't, in some way, his to solve.

This is hardly a recent development, and it is certainly not by accident. After just a few years on my personal office staff, through steady and unassuming competence, Scott became a clearinghouse for input on important decisions. Our entire team leaned on his encyclopedic knowledge, his good judgment, and, of course, his upset picks for March Madness brackets.

For much of Scott's tenure, his colleagues turned to him as a resident expert on healthcare policy. He had to protect my blind side on a set of issues I confess have always confounded me. But when you are as good as Scott is at boiling complex problems down to their essence, you wind up pulling extra duty. It didn't matter if an issue

wasn't in his portfolio. If it was really hard and really important, it, of course, would wind up on Scott's desk.

Eventually, as is often the case with the greatest flying aces, it fell to Scott to lead the whole squadron, to marshal the strengths and expertise of my entire team, and to deploy them in pursuit of an outcome. There have been very few outcomes Scott has pursued and not achieved. And that is because he is one of the very few people in Washington who, by their very involvement in an issue, signal that things are probably going to somehow work out.

I am speaking, of course, about Scott's daily arrival to light and tend the fireplace in my chief of staff's office. In meetings anywhere in the Capitol, Scott speaks with my authority but a command of policy nuance and procedural nuance entirely his own.

Without uttering a word, Scott's patrols along the back wall of this Chamber are a sign to our colleagues things are under control--or at least they will be very soon.

Scott, of course, is too modest to acknowledge this. He is too self- effacing to admit the number of times where the price of rescuing must- pass legislation or keeping the Federal Government's lights on has been his nights, his weekends, and his all-hours attention.

For a husband and father with a young family, it is difficult to quantify this sacrifice. It is impossible to overstate how the road to high-stakes government funding agreements has so often been paved with missed swim meets and soccer games and with goodnight calls and bedtime stories over FaceTime illustrated with a Cookie Monster hand puppet.

So I am grateful to Scott's dear wife Katherine for her patience and to Molly and Lauren for sharing their dad with us so often.

There is simply no way to make sense of the quarter century of honorable service Scott has rendered without talking about a certain intangible devotion. You don't stick around that long for the pay. You certainly don't do it for the flexible hours. But if your name is Scott Raab, you might just do it because you love the Senate and believe in the people you work with.

As it so happens, Scott's colleagues over the years have believed in him too. They say that ``his input was essential''; that he would be ``the person in my will to take care of my kids''; that he ``does the right thing the right way''; and that they are ``proud to call him [their] friend.''

Well, I am as well.

I am going to miss staring down the toughest fights with Scott Raab at my side. But if anyone is entitled to cut the net down and walk out of here satisfied they left it all on the court, it is Scott.

So Scott, thanks for everything.

Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order for the quorum call be rescinded.