Wooing Washington

Battered states pursue federal aid in strikingly different ways.

To watch the post-Hurricane Katrina maneuvering of Louisiana and Mississippi politicians is to see surprisingly divergent strategies for securing federal aid. Louisiana is throwing itself at the mercy of Washington, requesting a $250 billion package of spending and tax relief, including $40 billion for Army Corps of Engineers projects. Mississippi, by contrast, is quietly making its case through the back channels, where its political influence is at its greatest.

In large part, these dissimilar approaches reflect the disproportionate level of damage sustained by each state-if Louisiana is asking for more, it's because the state suffered more catastrophic losses. But they also reveal important distinctions between two different political cultures and congressional delegations-distinctions that might play a role in the success of each state's reconstruction effort.

In national politics, Mississippi is politically conservative (Republicans have carried it in the last seven presidential elections) while Louisiana is one of the last Southern states where Democrats remain competitive. Does that matter in this tragic context? It seemed to in the days immediately after the hurricane landed, when Louisiana Democrats and the Bush administration scrambled to affix blame for the inept response. Across the state line, the reaction was decidedly different as Mississippi's governor, a Republican, declined to criticize the feds and instead noted that President Bush was in frequent contact with him.

No one seriously suggests that partisan considerations will determine federal recovery aid to the two states. But Louisiana begins its pursuit of federal dollars with a different disadvantage: its long-standing reputation as America's banana republic. Despite the reservoir of national compassion over the state's plight, Louisiana's historic tolerance of corruption, demagoguery and government inefficiency inevitably tarnishes its massive request with a patina of suspicion-which explains why the project-laden $250 billion plan was greeted with incredulity in Congress.

Another handicap is the state's dearth of congressional clout. The retirements of Senate Democrat John Breaux and House Republican Billy Tauzin in 2004 drained Louisiana's delegation of two senior deal makers. While Reps. Jim McCrery and Richard Baker are well-placed Republican insiders, four of the state's seven House members are in their first or second term; the senior Democrat, Rep. William Jefferson, is under investigation by the FBI, a development that limits his effectiveness. On the Senate side, there is Republican David Vitter, who had just two full House terms under his belt before winning Breaux's seat in 2004. The senior senator is Democrat Mary Landrieu, who didn't do Louisiana any favors by threatening to punch the president in the nose if he criticized local officials for their hurricane response efforts.

Compare that with Mississippi. It's no model laboratory for democracy, but it lacks Louisiana's notoriety, at least in the post-civil-rights era. More important, the state is unusually well-connected on Capitol Hill. Its Senate delegation is a GOP powerhouse, featuring Appropriations chairman Thad Cochran and Trent Lott, the former majority leader; the most junior of its four House members is in his fifth term. Like Louisiana Democrat Gov. Kathleen Babineaux Blanco, Gov. Haley Barbour was elected in 2003, but unlike Blanco, Barbour is a veteran of national politics who was among Washington's most influential lobbyists before he returned home.

The Mississippi strategy so far is telling because if there were a massive federal spending program forthcoming, you can bet the state would be tapped into it. Instead, Barbour has stressed the importance of the private sector in the rebuilding effort and, along with the Senate delegation, has avoided assembling anything like a Louisiana-style package of spending needs.

This approach could be viewed as an expression of the state's conservative impulse but, more likely, it's a practical-minded assessment of the federal budget environment-and of the most effective way to work within its confines.