To get a sense of what is going on in Washington in the new post-Jeffords
age, you have only to note that Sen. Judd Gregg (R-N.H.) accused the new
majority leader, Tom Daschle (D-S.D.), of being "incredibly autocratic." It
was pretty much the rhetorical overreach of the week. If the conspicuously
humble Daschle is an autocrat, George W. Bush is an intellectual.

Gregg was just putting in time laying brick on the wall of denial that
Senate Republicans have been busy constructing since James Jeffords of
Vermont walked out on them on May 24, taking their chairmanships with him.
The Republicans, feeling naked and bereft without their gavels, have decided
that it is intolerable that the Democrats are in charge of the Senate. They
are striking back in a way that may not be mature, but that makes it possible
for them to get out of bed every day. They tell themselves it didn't happen.

Initially, they smeared Jeffords, a quiet man of character and principle, as a
black-hearted opportunist; Daschle came out of their fax machines as a nasty
partisan. Now the strategy seems to be to badger Daschle so that he will crack
and commit the crimes of obstructionism and partisanship that they preemptively
charged him with, as they were committing the same transgressions themselves.

Their policy is to pretend that Jeffords never jumped and that they're still
in charge. Their negotiations on organizing the Senate illustrate the point.
They are making demands that would be nervy from winners. They want to fire
the Senate Judiciary Committee, which the Founders put in place to give
advice and consent on judicial nominees. They insist that upcoming Supreme
Court nominees bypass the committee and go straight to the floor. Judiciary
Committee chairman Patrick Leahy of Vermont shows no signs of going quietly
down that particular path.

Daschle remains cheerful and rational, and when he and former majority
leader Trent Lott stand up on the floor, it is Democrat Daschle who gets the
nod from the presiding officer. In his now-famous "wage war" memo, which a
distraught Lott sent out after what he called "a coup of one," the
Mississippi Republican cast aspersions on the legitimacy of Daschle's right
to call the shots. The Democrats do not hold a majority in the Senate, only
a plurality. Lott's hand-picked committee of five chesty GOP negotiators who
are bargaining with Daschle are trying to perpetuate the new math: The real
count, they say, is 50 Republicans and 50 Democrats, with Jeffords not
relevant. They are counting Vice President Cheney as a member, although the
Constitution does not.

Heartburn and emotion are coalesced on the patients' bill of rights, which
is being operated on this week. Daschle made it the first order of business
when he took over as Senate boss. The Republicans have made opposition to
the McCain-Edwards-Kennedy bill a do-or-die issue. They set up a roadblock
-- a dubious business given the popularity of the measure in the country,
the Senate and the House. When the filibuster failed, the first motion --
introduced by a Republican, of course -- was to delay for four weeks more.

The Republicans have once again put their faith in market forces: They have
collected a $15 million war chest for negative ads and want to buy time for
their commercials to kick in and sink the bill. That's what happened during
the big Clinton health care bill crisis of 1994 when "Harry and Louise"
saved the day for the HMOs and the insurance companies.

At the end of a contentious week, George W. Bush weighed in with a threat to
veto McCain-Edwards-Kennedy as it is. Backers point out that a Texas bill --
which was passed without Bush's signature, but for which he shamelessly
takes credit -- did not produce the horrors the former governor now foresees
from similar provisions in the federal version under consideration.

Bush does not set a particularly good example in the realm of facing reality.
His recent meeting with Russian President Vladimir Putin suggests Bush had
consulted Dale ("How to Win Friends and Influence People") Carnegie rather
than Arthur ("Darkness at Noon") Koestler in preparing for his rendezvous with
the ex-KGB operative. The right wing closed ranks: House Majority Leader
Dick Armey, a hard-liner, said gamely that he believed in being "warm and welcoming"
to all Russians. Finally, the shocked silence on the far right was shattered by a howl
from Sen. Jesse Helms. He reproached Bush for "an excessively personal endorsement."
As the Wall Street Journal's Al Hunt asked his readers: Can you imagine the fuss if
Clinton had gushed like that over a KGB alumnus?

Later, Putin said he had a swell time in Slovenia, too, but renewed his promise
to fire up the arms race if Bush goes through with the delusional party's greatest
delusion: the national missile defense.