The O’Toole Chronicles: Loyalty

Did your boots stop workin?
Did your truck break down?
Did you burn through money?
Did your ex find out?
Where there’s a will, then there’s a way
And I’m damn sure you lost it
Didn’t even say goodbye
Just wish I knew what caused it
          AUSTIN – by Dasha

If I learned anything in politics, it is that you rarely make friends in this world and you rarely see this thing called loyalty. I’m fairly sure that this truism can be said in all facets of life, but it seems to me that it is particularly applicable to today’s politics, and unwaveringly and unflinchingly so.

Time for a dumpster dive.

Whenever I coach or mentor a newcomer who aspires to be an office holder and they tell me of their interest in venturing onto the political playground,  I let them know a few things to expect and not to expect. Leading the pack is that people will promise to raise money for your campaign, and you are not to believe them. If you receive 10% of what is promised, it is a modern-day miracle. The second chestnut to learn (and I have written about this before) is that you should lower your expectations of others that you hire, and a close third life lesson is not to expect loyalty in the political arena. Pretty simple stuff that has stood up under fierce scrutiny and endured the sands of time.

As I have come to appreciate, loyalty is a rare, and I mean extremely rare commodity, that is almost never seen or experienced for a prolonged period in life and it is even more rare, if not extinct in politics.

I was born and bred with the ever-present belief, make that near religion,  that loyalty isn’t a buzzword but rather a chosen way of life. It is imbued and engrained in my DNA. Rightly or wrongly, I know of no other way.  Granted, given the peculiarities and eccentricities of friends and family, this belief gets road tested and challenged quite a bit. Nevertheless, trying and turbulent times, I still lead with the notion that loyalty is a good and pure thing, even though I recognize that the concept of loyalty is going the way of the Amur leopard, near extinction.

I have had a few staffers and close advisors in my life that have remained part of a larger family, and for that I am eternally humbled and grateful.  I recognize that I would never have climbed some of these tremendous political mountains without the unquestioning loyalty and support of this group. We want to believe that all our supporters will always be with us, and they will always be with the band, but time and history has taught us otherwise. Politics has an uncompromising way of sometimes chain sawing in half seemingly once solid relationships. But let me add, while it never happened to me when I was engaged in politics, I knew then that it was possible that it could happen to even to me.

Those of us who have stayed around the edges of the political Ouija board recognize that a disciplined and loyal staff is the core of every successful political operation. Knowing who you can trust gives rise to the possibility of meaningful longevity in the tumultuous and volatile world around us.

Loyalty is rarely seen because the stage of politics is an unforgiving playground and the very nature of give and take and shifting alliances and everchanging enemies in the political thunder dome, loyalty seeds are rarely able to be planted, tended to and allowed to grow. Whether it be ego, disagreement, or the prodding of a tone-deaf partner or friend, inevitably there comes a time that a break of service comes, and people simply move on.

On a more granular level, I really believe when you allow or enable someone in your operation to access some power and convey some ability to affect or otherwise make an impact, it creates something that was never intended—it allows another power structure to come into play and by anointing or consecrating one with some power of the office in many cases lights a unseen fuse to some powder keg of ambition. And there goes the adage about two roosters in a single hen house.

It is so fascinating to watch some newcomer staffer in politics who starts out shy, demure, and professional, over time and repeatedly watching the boss engage, slowly obtains the identity and personality of the boss, and things soon go sideways. Within some time, the staffer or top advisor will try and overrule the elected and all things start to disintegrate. Soon enough, there is enough friction to start a political brushfire and the alliance and friendship morphs into a rivalry or competition.

To further make this point, we need to look no further than the strange relationship between John Adams and Thomas Jefferson. These once besties, who at an earlier time in our country’s fledging state, helped stitch together and later construct our country’s founding papers, later accused each other of disloyalty and all over the argument of a centralized vs decentralized federal government. This once dynamic and inseparable constitutional duo descended into an epic political warfare that left many in Washington scratching their heads in bewilderment. At one point, John Adams had only his wife Abigail to rely upon as his support. It was during this time that our country needed to be viewed nationally and abroad as unified. I’m happy to report that much later in their lives both men wrote often to each other as they erased the massive divide that once existed. They both died within 24 hours of one another. This story kind of reminds me of the Prince Harry and Megan Markle experiment. How did that work out?

Finally, to add some more modern color commentary, I offer the opinions of two statements on the topic of loyalty in politics.

First up is Henry Kissinger, who was and remains one of the most respected diplomats and politicians and was the 56^th Secretary of State of the United States. Mr. Kissinger once said, “America has no permanent friends or enemies, only interests.”

Alan Clark, former member of British Parliament,  said it best – “there are no true friends in politics. We are all sharks circling and waiting for traces of blood to appear in the water.”

I can look back and count dozens of political marriages and alliances that one would swear would endure the test of time and battle and remain intact, but inevitably somehow and someway the once indivisible team gets cleaved apart and soon are fighting over the same piece of political turf. I can only surmise that the days of Gordon Liddy demonstrating unmistaken beads of loyalty with candle and fire on the palm thing disappeared.

I started this column with a few lines from my daughter’s new favorite singer, Dasha. Dasha wrote the song, Austin (Boots Stop Workin’), about a country singer who left a coveted partnership and out of ‘rage’ wrote the words that teased out somewhat sarcastically why the individual was no longer around. I’m not sure that the song helps me make the point of the day, but I will make my daughter’s day by merely mentioning the song and her.

Was the whiskey flowin’?
Were you in a fight?
Did the nerves come get you?
What’s your alibi?
          Dasha