Hollings Made Politics Fun

Former senator Fritz Hollings, one of the great characters of American politics, dies on April 7.

The late former senator Fritz Hollings. Photo credit: Wikimedia Commons

Fritz Hollings’ mouth often got him a lot of attention.

And sometimes, it got him into trouble.

Ernest F. Hollings, the former Democratic senator from South Carolina, died on April 7 at the age of 97. He was one of the great characters of American politics.

Hollings started out as a segregationist, but as governor, he evolved before much of his state did.

Hollings risked his political future in a speech before the South Carolina legislature at the end of his term as governor in 1963, recalled Kirk Victor, co-author of “Making Government Work,” Hollings’ autobiography (full disclosure – Victor is a friend and former colleague of mine).

Harvey Gantt, an African-American student, wanted to go to Clemson College, which was segregated. Lawmakers would follow Hollings’ lead. Defying the advice of his closest political advisors, he made a brave speech, just as other Southern governors were resisting integration.

He told the legislature, “As we meet, South Carolina is running out of courts … This General Assembly must make clear South Carolina’s choice, a government of laws rather than a government of men … We of today must realize the lesson of a hundred years ago and move on for the good of South Carolina and the United States.”

After Hollings’ speech, Clemson was peacefully integrated, Hollings was elected to the Senate and Gantt went on to become the first African-American mayor of Charlotte, N.C.

And while Hollings served as the peacemaker at Clemson, his mouth often stirred things up – occasionally not in a good way.

He once referred to his Jewish Senate colleague Howard Metzenbaum (D-Ohio) as the “senator from B’Nai Brith.”

He apologized for that one.

Then, according to Victor, there was the time when he said Bill Clinton was as “popular as AIDS” in South Carolina.

But more often than not, Hollings’ comments drew laughter, even if his intended target didn’t appreciate the shot at the time.

Take the time when he appeared on the ABC Sunday show “This Week with David Brinkley.”

Sam Donaldson, ABC’s White House reporter, was known for wearing a very obvious toupee and Hollings was extremely protective of his home state industries.

As Victor tells the story, Donaldson addressed Hollings: “Senator, you’re from the great textile-producing state of South Carolina. Is it true you have a Korean tailor?”

Before the senator could answer the question, Donaldson said, “Let’s see the label in there. What is the label?”

Hollings refused to let Donaldson get the best of him, according to Victor.

“I bought it,” he replied, “the same place right down the street where, if you want to personalize this thing, where you got that wig, Sam.”

Then, there was the year Hollings went at it with Senate Budget Chairman Pete Domenici (R-N.M.) during the markup of the annual budget resolution.

Hollings represented a state where tobacco was once a huge cash crop; New Mexico was the home of large federal nuclear laboratories.

That year, Hollings was pushing a plan to aid the tobacco farmers whose income was hurt by the decrease in tobacco use.

Domenici, a budget hawk, except when it came to the interests of his own home state, opposed the plan.

And so, the debate began.

At one point, Hollings, in his best Foghorn Leghorn voice, told Domenici something to the effect of, “Senator, I don’t know what they grow in your home state except nuclear bombs.”

Everyone laughed, except Domenici.

South Carolina Gov. Henry McMaster was gracious upon learning of Hollings’ death. The governor released a statement in which he said, “The greatness and success of this state has benefited from the hand of his leadership.”

That’s not to say that McMaster, a Republican, always got along with Hollings, a Democrat. In fact, one year, McMaster ran for the Senate against Hollings and challenged the Democrat to take a drug test, according to Victor.

Hollings’ response to McMaster?

“I’ll take a drug test if you’ll take an IQ test,” he told the Republican.

What?

It appears that they don’t teach the United States Constitution in Georgia’s public schools.

That’s the only way to explain recent events in the Peach State’s legislature.

Republican Rep. Andy Welch, a lawyer (really?), was unhappy with what he considered biased questions asked by a television reporter.

And so, he did what any self-respecting autocrat would do.

He announced that he would sponsor legislation to create a state Journalism Ethics Board, which would develop an ethics code for reporters. The board would develop voluntary accreditation, sanction accredited journalists who violate the canons and investigate complaints.

The bill would also mandate that anyone interviewed by the media could request and receive copies of photos and any recordings of them.

If a news media outlet refused to comply, it would be subject to a lawsuit and civil penalty.

Five other Republican geniuses have agreed to cosponsor the legislation (presumably they, too, attended the same school as Welch did. You know, the one where the teachers skip the lessons about the Constitution).

Welch, thankfully, has announced he would be resigning from the General Assembly, but his bill will stay alive for the 2020 session, according to The Atlanta Journal-Constitution.

And hopefully, the measure will suffer a quick but painful death.

As for the bill’s cosponsors? Perhaps remedial education of some sort would be in order.

Or, maybe their constituents will decide they’d like to be represented by someone who is slightly less tyrannical.

David Baumann

David Baumann is a correspondent-at-large for CU Times. He can be reached at dbaumann@cutimes.com.