"The most jaundiced of yellow-dog southern Democrats" says the Dem. Leadership Council; "Among the most liberal" another person describes him -- Zell

In a 8-30-04 post entitled "What did Zell know and when did he know it? -- Inspector Clouseau checks behind Political Insider’s Sherlock J. Galloway and Dr. Tom Baxter Watson," I -- being Inspector Sid Clouseau -- examined the question the AP raised of when, as in "[t]he toughest question isn't why [Sen. Miller] made the leap, but when?"

After saying that in asking the when question, there is the assumption that there is an answer, I sort of left things up in the air. Maybe there is no answer; that Zell will be Zell, always has been, always will be (or as a gdp article puts it, "it's just Zell").

But with a new day comes a new discovery.

Washington Post Staff Writer Dale Russakoff reminds me that Zell himself -- in his own words -- might have already have provided us with the answer. On 9-1-04 this Washington Post writer begins his article by noting that Sen. Miller is "the Democrat Republicans love to love."

This week at the convention "Republican admirers mobbed him, and one called out, 'You're the big gun!'"

"The silver-haired, silver-tongued former Marine and history teacher smiled appreciatively, then called after the man: 'There are some Democrats in Georgia who'd like to insert 'son-of-a' in front of that gun.'"

The Washington Post writer then reminds me that the answer may be found in Sen. Miller's book "A National Party No More: The Conscience of a Conservative Democrat." The writer notes:

Called out of retirement to finish the unexpired term of Sen. Paul Coverdell (R), who died that summer of a brain hemorrhage, Miller wrote in his book that he found a national Democratic Party run by cultural elites and organized labor. In 2002, he observed, when Republicans swept statewide Georgia races, defeating Gov. Roy Barnes (D) and Sen. Max Cleland (D), no national Democratic leader could campaign in Georgia without doing more harm than good. Miller cut ads defending both Democrats, to no avail.

"If this is a national party, sushi is our national dish," Miller wrote. While Franklin D. Roosevelt said of the South, "I see one-third of a nation ill-housed, ill-clad, ill-nourished," according to Miller, "Today, our national Democratic leaders look south and say, 'I see one-third of a nation and it can go to hell.' "

Miller said the final straw came after Sept. 11, 2001, when Senate Democratic leaders opposed Republican legislation to create the Department of Homeland Security. Most Democrats, including Cleland, backed an alternative bill with stiffer employee protections. Miller, like President George W. Bush, viewed this as putting loyalty to organized labor ahead of national security, and he blamed it for Cleland's defeat, as did a number of analysts in Georgia. (Democratic leaders blamed Republican ads portraying Cleland, a triple amputee from the Vietnam War, as unpatriotic for voting against the Bush-backed bill.) After the homeland security vote, Miller stopped attending weekly Democratic caucus meetings.

"Nine-eleven changed everything; that's what you've got to understand," Miller said Tuesday, after touting Bush to the Ohio delegation as "a president who will stand up and grab terrorists by the throat and not let 'em go so they can get a better grip."

But Miller has changed in other ways. The governor who supported abortion rights has become an angry opponent of abortion. The governor who invited the Gay Games to Atlanta now champions a constitutional amendment against gay marriage. The economic populist who counseled national Democrats to play down cultural issues such as public school prayer in favor of kitchen-table concerns such as shrinking incomes is chastising Democratic presidential nominee John F. Kerry for opposing prayer in schools. At Monday's forum honoring conservative authors, Miller called on Republicans to rise up against same-sex marriage, prompting conservative columnist John Podhoretz to warn against sowing divisiveness.

"He's gone from being Walter Mondale's state chairman in the 1984 primary to keynoter for Bill Clinton and now keynoter for George W. Bush. That's a feat worth an Olympic medal in political gymnastics," said Atlanta lawyer Keith Mason, a former gubernatorial aide.

Asked what changed him on social issues, Miller answered only, "Seeing my great-grandchildren come into the world."