Can they just get along? Congress goes for Hershey kisses.

Last September ("A Civil Tongue," September 13, 1996), I wrote about proposals made by various members of Congress to improve the atmosphere in the House, where rancorous partisanship and harshness in debate and discourse have become the norm. One of those proposals, made by David Skaggs (D-Colo.) and Ray La Hood (R-Ill.), was that all members of the House and their spouses take a few days meeting to get to know one another. The meeting was intended to restore a sense of fellowship to a deeply divided Congress. As many as a dozen other members joined in signing a letter to Speaker Newt Gingrich (R-Ga.) and Minority Leader Dick Gephardt (D-Mo.) that they plan for such a postelection session.

This last month such a meeting actually took place at the Hershey Conference Center in Hershey, Pennsylvania. Over two hundred members and approximately one hundred spouses and children met for three days of friendly mixing and discussion. Unfortunately, the meeting had not been scheduled for immediately after the election when the good feeling the conference engendered might have flowed into the organizing days of the new Congress.

As it was, much that was further divisive took place between the election and the bipartisan meeting. There was the wrangling that preceded the reprimand of Speaker Gingrich for conduct unworthy of a member of Congress and the failed effort to prevent his re-election as Speaker. There were the revelations of the excesses in campaign funding during the 1996 campaign, and the rush to one-sided investigations. Both Republicans and Democrats held separate retreats prior to Hershey, where party differences hardened. In a way it was a wonder that Hershey took place at all. (Attendance was encouraged by the leadership of both parties, but, as one Republican congressman said, it was not clear that they really wanted it.)

The immediate response to the Hershey bipartisan experience was approving, even enthusiastic. "I thought it was very worthwhile," said Sylvia Sabo, wife of Martin Sabo (D-Minn.). "There is almost a hunger for, and a real need for, getting to know each other - to defuse the mystery and anger. There is no normal vehicle on the Hill for becoming closer, becoming friends. Hershey helped."

"It was very, very special - a moment in time," reported Sandie Knollenberg whose husband, Joe (R-Mich.), came to the House in 1993 when the divisions seemed to have hardened irretrievably. ("From day one you were just with other Republicans," she noted.)

"It went better than I would have thought," said Congressman Jim Leach (R-Iowa), chairman of the Banking Committee and a twenty-one-year veteran who remembers happier days. "People seemed to enjoy getting together. I was astonished at how many wanted to be there." Congressman La Hood was euphoric as he debarked from the train returning from Pennsylvania. "This is the kind of thing I'd like to see on the front page of the Washington Post," he told inquiring reporters.

Although the congresspersons attending contributed nominal sums, the conference was funded mainly by the Pew Charitable Trust, whose officials devised the program and provided facilitators. There was also some help from the congressional institute that serves as an umbrella under which the party retreats are funded. It is clear that careful preliminary planning contributed to the success of the conference.

The attendees were supplied with a report prepared by the University of Pennsylvania's Annenberg School of Communications, "Civility in the House of Representatives." It traced the rise in the use of vulgar and vituperative language on the House floor since 1985. Words like damn, whore, stupid, weirdo, nerd, bozo, idiot, fatso, scum, nitwit, and worse have larded the language of speeches and interchange in recent years. "It's a sign of the general coarsening of our culture," said Kathleen Hall Jamieson, dean of the Annenberg School. "Things we used to say in private we now say in public. Congress may simply be reflecting a social norm."

Interestingly enough, the concern with language had been voiced at the Republican retreat in Williamsburg that preceded the Hershey conference. Participants there conceded that abusive language had contributed to some Republican defeats, and recommendations were made to make the language less confrontational, to "talk soft." "We must forget about our elections," said one congressman, "and concentrate on what we came here to do - to legislate and govern." And, according to an article in the Minneapolis Star Tribune (March 9, 1997), referring to the Hershey conference as an effort "to reduce partisan nastiness," ordinary people may well be ahead of the politicians. There is general reaction against rudeness and a renewed interest in manners. It may be true that, as Judith Martin, "Miss Manners," has said, "The American romance with rudeness is over."

A growing sense of this change may have contributed to the attendance at Hershey and to its spirit. A genial atmosphere prevailed from the moment the participants boarded the buses taking them to the train, observed Sandie Knollenberg, and any trepidation they might have had disappeared on the train trip. People drifted back and forth visiting with one another. They chatted, introduced their children, and played cards. "I talked to Charlie Rangel, Democrat from New York," said Knollenberg. "I had never talked to him before. He was playing cards with three Republicans."

In the opening session at Hershey, the Speaker and the Minority Leader made brief, conciliatory introductory speeches, but the tone was set by author and historian David McCullough. "His address was thoughtful, pleasant," reported Congressman Leach. "He emphasized the important role of the Congress in American history and in world history." In a word he inspired his hearers with a depiction of their institution at its best.

"There weren't a whole lot of procedural suggestions," continued Leach. "Rather, there were emphases on improvement in collegiality." He cited the instance of a Republican who rose to say that he had no idea that Democrats resented their party being called "The Democrat party," a term much favored by hostile Republicans instead of the historical appellation "Democratic," and that he would never resort to that usage again. Leach also noted, half wryly, that there had been "a fair amount of prayer" and frequent use of apropos biblical quotations. ("A house divided against itself shall not stand," and the admonition to be "repairers of the breach"). Congressional spouses thought that the socializing and the local tours arranged by the organizers did a great deal to break down barriers - especially the final dinner followed by dancing during which people mixed energetically.

But "the spirit of Hershey seemed to evaporate rather quickly," said one participant, pointing to the hostilities recently renewed in the House over the proposed probe on campaign funding.

And one of the Democratic leaders is reported to have said that all he got out of Hershey was the "kisses" - a reference to the product of the local candy industry. "But hey," said Sandie Knollenberg, "it's a start. There was some criticism. There were people missing who needed to be there, and, in a sense, there was some preaching to the choir. Many worthwhile things start small and grow. This will, too."