Adapted from: Politics in America

Even before he was indicted July 29 by a federal grand jury in Washington on seven felony counts of making false statements on his financial disclosure forms, Stevens had his share of difficulties.

The 2006 Democratic takeover of Congress left Stevens -- a gruff, hot-tempered “old bull” -- without a gavel for the first time in many years. And, he was out of step with many of his GOP colleagues over the virtues of federal spending for politically popular special projects targeted to the districts and states of individual lawmakers.

Stevens is the longest-serving Senate Republican, and ranks seventh on the all-time tenure list. He is fiercely attached to the Senate, and determined to use his seniority to help his state.

Stevens detests the partisan polarization that has plagued Congress in recent years, preferring offstage cooperation to public confrontation. He will fight it out with anyone who insists on challenging him, with fireworks galore, but he’d rather cut a deal that satisfies everyone.

Since 1969, Stevens has kept a framed copy of Rotary International’s “Four-Way Test” on his Senate chamber desk. He says he tries to live by its maxims, written in 1932: “Is it the truth? Is it fair to all concerned? Will it build goodwill and better friendships? Will it be beneficial to all concerned?”

Stevens was chairman of the Commerce, Science and Transportation Committee in the 109th Congress (2005-06). Before that, he had spent his career on the Appropriations Committee, which he chaired from 1997 to 2005 except for an 18-month interlude in 2001 and 2002 when Democrats controlled the Senate. He remains the top-ranking Republican on Commerce and on the Defense Appropriations Subcommittee.

On both panels, Stevens is paired with Democratic Chairman Daniel K. Inouye of Hawaii. Representing the nation’s newest states, the two share a concern for native populations and a commitment to securing federal funds for their isolated states. They have grown so personally close over the years that they refer to themselves as “co-chairmen.”

In the 109th Congress, as other Republicans assailed spending earmarks, Stevens bristled. He says these provisions — which direct federal funds to home-state projects — are misunderstood, especially in Alaska’s case. Unlike other states that have legions of executive agency officials serving in regional and local offices where they can assess program needs, Alaska depends on its two senators and one at-large House member to look out for its interests, he maintains. “We just don’t have people in Nome who represent the Department of Housing and Urban Development,” Steven says.

Instead, Alaska has Stevens, and that has been quite enough. His hand is felt everywhere in the state. A grateful state legislature named the Anchorage International Airport for him in 2000. But the dollar chase is getting harder every year, as President Bush insists on tighter caps on domestic spending and conservative Republicans attack earmarks as wasteful. In fact, it was an Alaska project that created such a stink that all lawmakers may find it harder to obtain earmarks in the future.

In 2005, a furor erupted over a proposed bridge to connect Ketchikan, population circa 8,000, with Gravina Island, population 50, at a cost of $223 million. When the Senate debated the annual transportation appropriations bill in October, Republican Tom Coburn of Oklahoma tried to redirect funds for the so-called bridge to nowhere to a rebuilding project for the Interstate 10 bridge in New Orleans, destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. “This amendment is an offense to me!” Stevens shouted on the floor. “It’s not only an offense to me, it’s a threat to every person in my state.” He threatened to resign if the amendment carried. Coburn got only 15 votes.

But conservative attacks on earmarks didn’t cease. By 2006, Stevens was grousing that tagging money for projects back home was “going to be almost impossible” in the newly hostile climate. “I have no way to explain this to my people,” he lamented. “I really don’t know how to handle this.”

In another 2005 battle, Stevens lost what was his best chance up to that time to persuade Congress to open Alaska’s Arctic National Wildlife Refuge to oil and gas drilling. After years of falling just short, he steered a drilling provision through the Senate as part of a budget bill. But GOP moderates in the House balked. When Stevens tried attaching the drilling provision to the must-pass Defense appropriations bill in December 2005, he was unable to surmount a filibuster, even after stuffing the bill with Gulf Coast recovery funds and other enticements to win over senators. “This has been the saddest day of my life,” he said.