I consider myself fairly current on social issues. Yet, until a year ago, I was blithely unaware that American horses are slaughtered for human consumption. This knowledge changed my life and opened the door to my nascent involvement in politics and lawmaking — something I never anticipated I would do.
I came across this information by chance. Like many others, I followed the meteoric rise and fall of a race horse named Barbaro, the 2006 winner of the Kentucky Derby. Barbaro was injured during the Preakness Stakes, the second race of the Triple Crown, and that injury resulted in his untimely death eight months later.
As I followed Barbaro’s progress, I met a group called the Fans of Barbaro whose members became involved in efforts to ban horse slaughter. I learned to my shock that in 2006, 90,000 horses were slaughtered in the United States for human consumption overseas. It
didn’t take long before I knew I had to get involved to try to stop what I considered to be an inhumane practice. But what could I do?
I learned that bills to ban the slaughter of horses had been introduced in Congress — identical bills in the Senate (S311) and House (HR 503), both referred to as the American Horse Slaughter Prevention Act (AHSPA). I focused on these bills and I began my adventure in politics — and soon realized how little I understood about the process.
I learned that approximately 70–80% of Americans are in favor of banning horse slaughter. I took heart — getting the legislation passed should be a simple matter. How wrong I was. I learned that, as recently as 2006, the AHSPA passed in the House, but died in the Senate. I was mystified: How could this legislation, so clearly supported by the public, founder? I had a lot to learn about how Congress works.
Within a month of my involvement, I became the Washington State Group leader of the Fans of Barbaro. I had a small group of zealous-but-inexperienced people looking to me for advice. I researched each state legislator and determined their voting records on the AHSPA. We had our work cut out for us. The sponsors of the bills would not go to the floor for a vote until they had a sufficient number of co-sponsors. We needed 218 House co-sponsors; we had 90. We needed 60 Senate co-sponsors; we had 28.
Another hurdle was a secret “hold” on the Senate bill. I learned that a secret “hold” is a parliamentary procedure within the Standing Rules of the Senate that allows one or more senators to anonymously prevent a bill from reaching a vote. Under the Senate Standing Rules, no bill can be entertained without unanimous consent of the Senate.
In practice, the “hold” means that a senator may privately provide notice to their party leadership of their intent to object to the bill. At that point, the bill cannot proceed because unanimous consent has not been reached, even though the senator has not publicly announced their intent to object.
The original intent of the “hold” was to protect a senator’s right to be consulted on legislation that affected his or her state. However, it has been an effective tool in preventing bills from receiving a vote. The “hold” prevented the Senate from voting on the AHSPA in 2006.
I learned that Washington legislators would not be easy to convince. One Washington senator had co-sponsored the bill in 2006 and one had not, even though she had co-sponsored in 2005. Three representatives had co-sponsored the House bill in 2006 and six had not. Three of those six voted for the bill in 2006, but were leery of showing support in 2007.
I worked to identify the aides attached to each particular bill — a difficult process, as it turns out. I finally identified aides, with the exception of the aide for Rep. David Reichert. Finally, I asked, “Why can’t I have the name of the person working on this bill?” The answer: “If I gave out that person’s name, they would be overwhelmed with telephone calls and letters.” I replied, politely, “Isn’t that their job?” As it turns out, it wasn’t. Input from constituents is tolerated, tallied and reported, but apparently isn’t as high as I believed it would be on the congressional agenda.
I was learning something else — a little bit about how politics really works. Several senators who co-sponsored or supported the bill in 2006, but not in 2007, were campaigning for the presidency, including Senators Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama and Joseph Biden. They were reluctant to take positions on the bill.
Based on positive feedback from the aide, we started a daily calling campaign to target Sen. Biden — the “Bothering Biden” campaign. We would “Bother Biden” on a daily basis, with polite, but persistent, calls. On August 1, Sen. Biden became the 30th co-sponsor in the Senate and I was ecstatic. It appeared that our efforts had paid off. I began the “Pestering Patty” campaign, to “pester” Sen. Patty Murray to co-sponsor. The jury’s still out on how effective that will be.
On July 30, I received a mysterious email from our D.C. leaders, that I should stay on alert and ready my state group for action — something big was going to happen. Through a rush of adrenalin and through a rash of emails and phone calls to my group members, I realized that I had been bitten by the political bug. It was happening. The sponsors in the House were going to try to add an amendment to the agricultural appropriations bill that would stop the slaughter of horses for a year, by removing funding for the USDA to do inspections. An earlier attempt had been made with the farm bill and had failed.
The rest of the week was a blur. Amendments were proposed, revised, debated and discussed. For the first time, I was monitoring the House debates on CSPAN and listening for a particular issue, keeping my fingers crossed. The debates were endless and the sessions went late into the night. Then we heard that the first and most significant hurdle had been cleared — our amendment had been added to the bill.
Now, the next step was the passage of the bill itself. Late on August 2, the House passed the 2008 agricultural appropriations bill containing language to temporarily stop the slaughter of horses. My phones were ringing with calls from D.C. We were off to the Senate.
It’s too early to determine whether the House amendment will survive scrutiny in the Senate and the possible veto of the president. Even if it does, it does not prevent the transportation of horses to Canada and Mexico for slaughter and it will only stop slaughter for one year.
The real battle for passage of the AHSPA continues. The political battlefield will be even more treacherous and the twists and turns more dramatic. As in 2006, though the measure passed in the House, chances for approval in the Senate look tenuous. My efforts to meet with my senator in person — even by flying to D.C. for a meeting — have failed. The senator does not have time to meet with me, I am told. There can be no guarantees that she could see me.
Six months ago, that would have surprised me. After all, I am a constituent, an attorney and someone with an opinion based on extensive research. After six months of delving into the unfamiliar world of politics, I am not surprised. In the complex world of politics, legislators don’t have as much time to meet with constituents as we might hope.
What I thought would be a simple matter of pointing out the obvious to my legislators is, simply, not that simple. It’s complicated by history, by politics, by procedures and agendas. No civics class or newspapers could have given me the education in lawmaking that I’ve experienced in the last six months of my somewhat naïve adventure. It’s been a thrilling, frustrating, heartbreaking and enlightening ride — to be continued.
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