The Long And Relentless Arc Of Chuck Schumer

There’s talk of a primary challenge. There are demands for him to step down as party leader. He’s been forced to postpone a book tour that was scheduled for this week.

All of the anger and inchoate rage that has been swelling up in the Democratic Party since losing the White House suddenly seems channeled toward Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer after his vote to advance the GOP funding bill and avoid a federal government shutdown.

At 74, Schumer is now viewed by his critics as emblematic of a feckless party led by geriatrics unwilling or unable to put up a proper fight against Donald Trump.

But before the small donor donations flood into the coffers of the first progressive challenger to file against him, and before state and local parties begin passing resolutions condemning Schumer, it’s worth considering whether that energy is best directed elsewhere. Because the arc of Schumer’s political career is long, and it bends toward victory, no matter the era.

Few national Democrats have so consistently had a fix on the national mood when it comes to the radioactive issues that have so often cost the party at the ballot box — such as crime and immigration. Fewer still can claim Schumer’s history of delivering bitter medicine when the party most needs it.

His bona fides on the most basic building block of politics — winning — hardly need repeating. Schumer’s won every election he’s ever run in, nearly 20 in total, across a span of a half-century. He’s knocked off incumbents, survived redistricting battles and battled through contentious primaries. He now ranks among the biggest vote-getters in American history, though it’s more a function of his durability — from statehouse to U.S. House to five Senate terms in one of America’s most populous states — than his inherent popularity.

And it hasn’t all been a blue-state cakewalk. It’s easy to forget that when Schumer first won his Senate seat in 1998, the GOP still had a pulse in New York. Republican George Pataki was in the first of three terms as governor; Schumer had to navigate a fierce primary, then knock off GOP Sen. Al D’Amato to claim his seat. His win marked the first time in 50 years that New York had two Democratic senators.

Schumer’s done his work in perhaps the most unforgiving arena in politics. He’s coexisted with two junior senators who have run for president (not to mention Daniel Patrick Moynihan). He shared a media market with Michael Bloomberg and Rudy Giuliani in their prime. Two New York governors have been taken down in spectacular fashion since Schumer first joined the Senate and at least a half-dozen New York congressmen have resigned in disgrace or been expelled. Through it all, Schumer has been a constant.

Endurance alone doesn’t make for a successful party leader. When he arrived in the Senate, Schumer carried baggage from his 18-year House tenure that obscured his record. He was a serious and energetic lawmaker who left his mark on trade, crime, housing, immigration, farm and banking policy under both Republican and Democratic presidents, but his ambition and thirst for attention rubbed many colleagues the wrong way.

His stewardship of the Democrats’ Senate campaign arm helped change that — and altered the national party’s trajectory.

He took over as Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee chair in the aftermath of a bruising 2004 election cycle that saw the party at a low point — a nadir not altogether different than at present. At the time, Democrats held just 44 seats, their smallest caucus since 1931. Despite facing a daunting map, under Schumer’s guidance the party picked up six Senate seats and the majority in 2006. Two years later, with Schumer serving a second tour at the DSCC, Democrats knocked off five GOP incumbents and flipped three Republican-held open seats.

Political pragmatism, fundraising and a gimlet-eyed view of the election landscape was the hallmark of his success. He convinced a handful of incumbents in states George W. Bush carried not to retire. But more important, Schumer aggressively pursued candidates he viewed as particularly well-suited to win their states — even at the expense of intra-party acrimony.

Schumer angered donors and other influential Democrats by breaking with tradition and taking sides in the Virginia Senate primary in favor of former Reagan administration official James Webb. A combat veteran with conservative views who had criticized feminists, been sharply critical of Bill Clinton and who had once authored a Wall Street Journal op-ed attacking racial quotas and preferences, Webb alienated many in the party’s liberal base. But Schumer’s instincts were proved correct — Webb went on to defeat Sen. George Allen, then a rising GOP star and a future presidential prospect.

Schumer also stirred up a hornet’s nest in Pennsylvania by recruiting Bob Casey, at the time an abortion opponent. Though Schumer is a longstanding abortion rights supporter, his calculus was that Casey — a proven statewide vote-getter and the son of a former governor with a politically golden name — could carve into then-Republican Sen. Rick Santorum’s culturally conservative base while also appealing to vote-rich southeastern Pennsylvania. Abortion rights groups viewed the support for Casey as a betrayal, but Schumer charged ahead anyway.

Just as in Virginia, electability took precedence over party dogma — and the result was another Democratic victory.

The residue of those cold, bloodless decisions and so many others is helping to fuel the intensity of the current backlash, particularly on the left. Garrulous and goofy, the New York senator is easily caricatured as an inveterate operator with no core political values and not up to the job of countering the force of nature that is Trump. But his history is a lot more complicated.

Any prospective primary challenge will need a long fuse since Schumer isn’t up for reelection until 2028. As for his role in in continuing to lead the party, it’s helpful to read the room — there isn’t much evidence that his Senate colleagues are ready to throw him overboard. They know he took a bullet for the team.

Schumer’s critics argue that the old political rules he’s accustomed to no longer apply, so the most important thing he can do is fight Trump’s agenda at every turn. It’s not an unreasonable point. But neither was Schumer’s gambit. His political antenna is finely tuned over the course of seven presidencies; the assessment that Trump could use a government shutdown to further dismantle the federal bureaucracy and wreak even further havoc isn’t wildly offbase.

Historically, the better bet for the party has been to follow Schumer’s political instincts, rather than oppose them. It doesn’t mean he’s right this time, but it does suggest his read of the situation might be worth listening to.