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It is telling about Jackson, and political fashions, that in 1961, on the eve of Viet Nam (and the year he finally married), Jackson's rating from the liberal Americans for Democratic Action was a perfect 100, but by 1972, when he was still a diehard supporter of the war, his rating had fallen to 56. The times, not Jackson, had changed. The ill will between Jackson and the New Left grew worse when he ran for President, encouraged by the so-called ABM (Anybody But McGoven) movement among Democrats. Jackson was never noted for charisma or stump-speech eloquence, and his 1972 candidacy fell apart quickly. Although his well-organized 1976 run showed some life—he won the Massachusetts primary—the old cold warhorse was trounced by his fresh friend Jimmy Carter.
In the Senate, Jackson was not a superb legislative craftsman, but intelligent and consistent. He always favored an expansive military to counter the Soviets (he was the ranking Democrat on the Senate Armed Services Committee), resolutely supported Israel (his 1974 amendment made U.S.-Soviet trade contingent on a freer Kremlin emigration policy, mainly toward Jews) and nuclear power. He was also a dependable ally of organized labor, and happy to vote for social welfare programs or civil rights bills. Perhaps his zenith as a powerbroker came in the past decade, when he worked to kill or modify SALT arms-control treaties.
Jackson was a tried-and-true conservationist as well. In the 1950s, before ecology became trendy, he introduced a politically risky wilderness-protection bill, later spearheaded the epochal 1969 National Environmental Policy Act, and last year sponsored legislation to prevent mineral leasing on wilderness lands. Jackson never settled into rigid predictability. Says Nunn: "He was willing to take on the Pentagon when he thought it was wrong." Recently the hawk's hawk sounded almost dovish about Central America. "If we don't pay attention to the history of social and economic oppression there," Jackson said, "the military shield is bound to crumble."
The party may have lost more than an elder statesman. Lately the Democrats have entertained hopes of gaining a Senate majority in 1984. They may still get control, but Jackson's heretofore safe seat in Washington is now up for grabs: if Republican Governor John Spellman appoints Dan Evans, a popular G.O.P. predecessor, to fill in for a year, Representative Thomas Foley of Spokane, the most likely Democratic challenger, would face a tough race. In any event, Washington State will be without its supremely formidable champion in Washington, D.C.
But Henry Jackson was not simply a power wielder; he had a stubborn vision of America well armed and its people well cared for. He seldom roused voters, but served them ably and decently. He was more reasonable than passionate, more clearheaded than inspiring. His dreams were human-size. "Others may seek to make America great again," he said during his last run for President. "I seek to make America good again."
—By Kurt Andersen