PAWLEYS ISLAND, S.C. — Sen. Lindsey Graham once called Joe Biden “as good a man as God ever created.” Years later, he described Donald Trump — who derided and demeaned Biden — as “not far behind God.”
These were the two faces of Graham, a complex and contradictory figure who represented South Carolina in the Senate for 23 years before dying suddenly at age 71. He served as Trump’s enabler and coconspirator as the president polluted the Senate with his brutal brand of hyperpartisanship that excoriated Democrats and exiled Republicans who dared to waver in their loyalty.
Yet Graham also forged deep friendships with Democrats like Biden and worked regularly across the aisle on compromises and coalitions. His last act, hours before his death, was to announce an agreement with two Democrats on a bill to punish Russia economically for its invasion of Ukraine.
One of his Democratic partners, Sen. Richard Blumenthal of Connecticut, said of Graham, “We often differed, but he listened to me and others who might have opposing views and sought to bridge our differences.”
That’s a rare tribute in a capital where mutual respect and civility have virtually disappeared. And Graham was an unusual Trumper in another way, too: He actually liked journalists and understood their mission. He was easily the most visible lawmaker on TV interview shows, and on the Sunday after his death, he was due to appear on NBC’s “Meet the Press” for the 64th time.
In fact, he became such a fixture on TV that he was lampooned on “Saturday Night Live” several times. The portraits were not flattering — stressing his obsequious butt-kissing of Trump — but they validated his prominence. As the baseball star Reggie Jackson once put it: “Fans don’t boo nobodies.”
When Graham entered the Senate, it was a very different place than it is today. Centrists from both parties often worked together, and in one classic example, the South Carolinian joined a group called the Gang of 14, seven lawmakers from each party, that defused a crisis over judgeship nominations that threatened to rip the chamber apart.
Graham was so devoted to bipartisanship that he voted to approve two Democratic nominees to the Supreme Court, Sonia Sotomayor and Elena Kagan, and was a prime sponsor of legislation on immigration reform that drew 68 votes in the Senate before dying in the House. His willingness to work with Democrats earned him the disdain of right-wing commentators like Rush Limbaugh, who branded him “Lindsey Grahamnesty” — and that was not meant as a compliment.
When Graham ran briefly for the Republican presidential nomination in 2016, he denounced his rival, Donald Trump, as a “race-baiting, xenophobic, religious bigot” who was “unfit for office.”
But all of that changed when Trump won the primary and became the domineering boss of the Republican Party. Graham made a calculated and deeply cynical conversion, insinuating himself into Trump’s inner circle, and he made no secret of his strategy or his motives. He was trading ideals for access.
“I’ve just made a conscious decision — you know, I’m still in the game,” Graham told Peter Baker of The New York Times. “There’s no way to get around Trump. He’s the most important figure in the Republican Party now — not me, not John McCain, not George W. Bush. Donald Trump. Let’s play the hand we’re dealt.”
Still, as he played endless rounds of golf with the president and traveled with him frequently, Graham preserved a glimmer of self-awareness, even self-mockery. “I will play to his vanity,” he told Baker. “He’ll play to mine.”
But Graham paid a price for his proximity. He stayed silent as Trump trashed two of his colleagues, Bill Cassidy of Louisiana and John Cornyn of Texas, allowing them to be defeated in primaries for insufficient servility. Those acts of vengeance symbolized Trump’s desire to turn the Senate into a wholly owned subsidiary of his MAGA empire, and Graham went along without a word of dissent or dismay.
“That change is what makes his legacy so troubling,” said Jaime Harrison, the Democratic nominee against Graham in 2020. “Some people will remember the senator who worked across the aisle. Others will detest someone who, in their view, chose power over principle. Both of those stories are part of his legacy.”
Sen. Dick Durbin, the Democratic whip, made a similar point in remembering Graham: “He was a fierce Republican partisan one day and a key bipartisan ally the next. … His word was good — no cheap shots.”
In Trumpian Washington, “no cheap shots” is not a bad epitaph.
Steven Roberts teaches politics and journalism at George Washington University. He can be contacted by email at stevecokie@gmail.com.