A PATIENT LEADER

The year was 1996, and the place was Mexico City. Sitting at a table of
hostile legislators and badgering reporters, Sen. Paul Coverdell, Georgia
Republican, and the little-known Rep. J. Dennis Hastert, Illinois
Republican, took question after bruising question.

There had been an incident involving the death of illegal immigrants in
Riverside, Calif. Was it not true that Americans are racist? There had been
words on the floor of Congress about the need for Mexico to cooperate in
prosecuting and extraditing drug traffickers. Wasn't this because the U.S.
had no respect for Mexican sovereignty? The drug war was a U.S. problem, so
why was a U.S. senator here to talk about it in Mexico? This was the tone.
Mr. Coverdell listened thoughtfully.

Never raising his voice, never visibly angering, he waited for openings. To
each question, he offered a sincere, respectful, direct and honest answer.
Throughout, there was the wonderful twinkle in his ever-playful eyes.
Several hours later, still sitting, he had demonstrated a remarkable fact:
There are men who can listen to harsh, often ad hominem, attacks - and
slowly turn the attackers into admirers. In forum after forum, Mr.
Coverdell was able to catch swords and verbally turn them into plowshares.

The drug war - saving young American lives by strengthening our national
resolve to beat this insidious foe - was not just a vote or an issue to
him. Sharing the nation's worry, pain and deepening concern over damage
wrought by indifference to illegal drugs - at their source and in our
communities - Mr. Coverdell brought passion to the issue. His unique,
ever-creative oratory ebbed and flowed, on and off the Senate floor, always
in defense of more effort at home and abroad. One could not listen to him
without discerning, at once, both his deep commitment to restoring a
drug-free culture, and helping our allies - Colombia, Bolivia, Peru and
Mexico - in their efforts to protect and defend their own cultures.

Looking back, Mr. Coverdell was prescient about the rising tide of
drug-driven unrest in places like Colombia, the link between drug money and
terrorism, the need for greater U.S. vigilance across the hemisphere, and
the critical need to apply funds and toil to stopping drugs at their
source. From 1992 forward, he was clear, well-reasoned, persuasive and
invariably on target. Indeed, there has not been a force in the U.S. Senate
who has brought more passion and common sense to this issue than did Mr.
Coverdell. His leadership was in the tradition of Ronald Reagan - quiet
respect for others, self-deprecating good humor, a special gift with words,
and the unquenchable inner fire that grows up beside lifetime fidelity to
principle.

Inner conviction tempered by outer good cheer: In the tough moments, it is
to such men that others turn.

In realms beyond the drug war, he was no less a leader. Almost overnight,
in 1992, he became an unsung voice of reason in the U.S. Senate leadership.
The role permitted him to work as a grand unifier. Long years of service
with onetime-Speaker Newt Gingrich in the Georgia Legislature allowed that
voice of reason to wash, periodically, over into the House. In 1996, he
unified Republicans in thoughtfully battling against the idea of
socialized, government-heavy health care, quietly following Abraham
Lincoln's adage that the best way to beat enemies is to convert them to
friends.

Childless, he nevertheless demonstrated a deep love of children. While
rising to the role of secretary of the Republican Senate Conference and
chief Senate adviser to presidential candidate George Bush on education and
other issues, he led legislative drives with a direct impact on bettering
children's education. Most celebrated, from 1996 to present, Mr. Coverdell
was the father of a proposal to widen access to "higher education savings
accounts," permitting parents to withdraw tax-free funds for K-12 school
expenses.

Often, in the years 1995 to 1999, Mr. Coverdell was viewed by House leaders
as the U.S. senator most adept at threading tough legislative and
oratorical needles, and then nimbly sewing together the necessary working
relationships to convert a good idea into law, especially in the
counter-narcotics arena.

He was a driving force behind such valuable laws as reauthorization of the
White House drug czar's office in 1998, creation of the Western Hemisphere
Drug Elimination Act the same year, critical funding for assets as diverse
as intelligence gathering P-3 AEW aircraft for U.S. Customs and targeted
education resources for the states. He was dogged advocate for, and almost
single-handedly assured passage of, the Drug Kingpin Extradition Law of
1999, and was always a loyal friend to those in uniform, both law
enforcement and military.

Best, perhaps, he was the unrivaled prince of explaining simple "whys" and
"why nots" of complicated policy. Many times, members of the House would
ask, going into a controversial or complicated press conference, "Will Sen.
Coverdell be there?" If so, their job was already easier.

To many in the House and Senate, most recently leadership in both chambers,
he was an unsung warrior.

Finally, he was more than articulate and thoughtful, principled and
likeable. He was also a gentleman — consistently and without exception. He
was the example of public service at its absolute best. Rudyard Kipling
wrote of greatness that the test is to "keep your head when those around
you are losing theirs," and so it was with Sen. Paul Coverdell. Here was a
man who asked no adulation, shied from fanfare, while toiling deep into the
night for what was right. He was a man of honor and insight, humor and grace.

Robert B. Charles was staff director for the House Subcommittee on National
Security, International Affairs and Criminal Justice (1995-1999), and chief
staffer to the Speaker's Task Force on a Drug-Free America (1997-1999).