Max Baucus Is Mr. Health Care

Among Democrats, Max Baucus is known mostly for his apostasies. So crucial was the Montana Senator to passing George W. Bush’s tax cuts in 2001 that he was rewarded with a prime spot at the signing ceremony in the White House East Room. Two years later, it was Baucus who helped Republicans pass a pharmaceutical-industry-friendly Medicare prescription-drug bill, even as his party’s congressional leadership was shut out of the process. It is understandable, then, that when Democrats took back control of the White House, many in the party were more than a little dismayed about Baucus’ position at the helm of the Senate Finance Committee–the legislative linchpin for just about everything that Barack Obama hopes to accomplish, from rewriting the tax code to curbing global warming.

But Baucus has been surprising almost everyone, most notably by the zeal with which he is tackling what could be the toughest challenge of all: overhauling the health-care system to provide coverage for the more than 45 million Americans who lack it and to bring soaring costs under control. Indeed, Baucus’ proposal, unveiled in an 89-page white paper eight days after the election, was even more ambitious than Obama’s, adding a requirement that individuals who are not covered by their employers purchase their own health insurance, much as car owners must carry auto insurance.

And while many have argued that health-care reform should be postponed until the economy is fixed, Baucus has put his foot on the accelerator with a declaration that he intends to see it passed in the Senate by August. “This is kind of why I hired out for this job,” he told me on a recent morning in his Western-themed Senate office. “Now is the time. The stars are aligned.”

That, of course, remains to be seen. Baucus’ importance in reforming the health-care system, however, has grown. Unlike the Clinton health-care campaign that ran aground in 1994, the Obama White House’s plan is to give Congress the lead in fashioning health-care-reform legislation. And the two Democrats who had been expected to spearhead that task have been sidelined. Former Senate majority leader Tom Daschle withdrew his nomination to be Obama’s Secretary of Health and Human Services in early February amid revelations of tax problems, and Edward Kennedy, chairman of the Senate Health Committee, has had to work behind the scenes as he battles brain cancer.

All eyes are now on Baucus, whose Finance Committee has always been integral to figuring out how to pay for health-care reform. But it wasn’t initially clear that he was the ideal point man for the overall effort. “People had been concerned that [Baucus] was not as knowledgeable about the full breadth of health care,” says Andy Stern, head of the Service Employees International Union, which has been at the forefront of the drive for health-care reform. “But he’s there. He understands the contours of the debate. He understands the nuances involved. He’s pushing everybody at a relentless speed. Without him, we wouldn’t be where we are today.”

If Baucus succeeds in navigating health-care reform through Congress, he may have another Montanan to thank for showing him how. Baucus’ office suite in the Hart Senate Office Building is a veritable shrine to the longtime Senate Democratic leader Mike Mansfield, who guided the difficult passage of civil rights laws and Medicare in the 1960s. Mansfield counseled Baucus when the younger man started exploring a career in politics. Then a lawyer at the Securities and Exchange Commission, Baucus wasn’t even sure whether he was a Democrat or a Republican. As Baucus planned his move back home to Montana, he took the Senate leader’s advice and avoided living in the state capital, Helena, where, Mansfield warned, Baucus would risk becoming infected by its partisanship.

Baucus, who grew up in a wealthy and well-known ranching family, won a close congressional race in 1974 and four years later was elected to the Senate. He still keeps a sign on the desk in his Senate office that declares MONTANA COMES FIRST, and Baucus’ concern for holding on to his seat in the traditionally Republican state helps explain why he has so often broken from his party.

In fact, Baucus’ record of working with colleagues across the aisle might be exactly what his party needs in order to avoid a contentious fight that bogs down or dooms health-care reform. His legislative style is a throwback to the days when it was not so unusual for the two parties to work together in the Senate. Baucus’ closest friend in the chamber is the Finance Committee’s ranking Republican, Chuck Grassley of Iowa, an equally rough-hewn legislator, with whom he has traded the chairmanship three times since 2001. The two meet at least once a week and boast a rare degree of cooperation. “As far as working together and trying to find solutions,” says Grassley, their aides function as “basically one staff.”

Even as Baucus works to bring Republicans on board, he will also have to deal with some of his fellow Democrats who are pushing to include health-care legislation in budget “reconciliation”–an aggressive maneuver that would mean it requires only 51 votes to pass the Senate, rather than the 60 it takes to overcome a filibuster under the normal rules. “If it’s partisan, the minority party can find all kinds of ways to throw sand in the gears, and outside groups will start to mobilize,” he warns. “My view is, we can get more than 60 votes.” To do otherwise, he says, is to risk having the whole program come apart as it is being put in effect. “Once it becomes partisan,” he warns, “the chance of success is diminished.”

It’s an ambitious goal–but Baucus is not used to giving up. At age 67, he still pushes himself to do 50-mile ultramarathons. Running one in Maryland in 2003, Baucus fell at mile 8 but still managed to finish the remaining 42, bleeding from above his right eye. On health care too, Baucus knows that there may be a few bumps between him and the finish line.