Schapiro: Senate debate traces Va. politics' arc

In prepping for the Senate debate with George Allen, Tim Kaine and his handlers fashioned a one-liner — that Allen actually is seeking re-election — with two objectives: to tar-brush Allen as the incumbent and to get under his skin.

Forget that the seat is open because Jim Webb, who narrowly defeated Allen for a second term in 2006, isn't running. That detracts from the preferred narrative: Allen can't deny contributing to the mess in Washington and sending him back will only make it worse.

This might seem a stretch were it not for Allen's evident discomfort defending a red ink-stained Senate record from which he tries to divert attention by dwelling on Kaine's enduring bromance with Barack Obama, whom Kaine served as the president's hand-picked Democratic national chairman.

Obama is a negative for Kaine. He conceded as much by faulting both parties for putting sound bites ahead of solutions. But Kaine isn't running away from Obama, only acknowledging unspecified differences with him. It's a stance that could help Kaine should the Obama headwind become a tailwind.

Beyond roughing out the initial themes of a contest that could decide control of the Senate — Allen as fiscal charlatan; Kaine as Obama clone — the debate Wednesday illustrated the recent arc of Virginia politics; that even as it has changed dramatically, its dominant practitioners largely haven't.

Both Allen and Kaine are better on the attack — the former boned up opposite lawyer-lobbyist Chris Nolen; the latter with David Hallock, a top aide to Sen. Mark Warner, D-Va. — but it's how the candidates choose to do so that distinguishes them.

As the macaca moment and other episodes demonstrate, Allen is not above name-calling, often to the delight of his immediate audience but occasionally without regard for the larger one. Allen was at it again against Kaine, describing some federal employees as "sanctimonious social engineers."

Such a characterization could prove perilous in a state where a quarter of the economy is attributed to Washington largesse. Federal workers — they're voters, too — may wonder whether Allen can be trusted to protect their jobs, particularly those dependent on the defense budget he claims to hold dear.

This leaves Allen vulnerable to criticism on the issue on which Republicans believe economic uncertainty gives them the upper hand: repairing the nation's finances.

But neither the tea party nor Kaine will let Allen get away with it, having voted to finance with bigger deficits a senior drug benefit under Medicare and the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Kaine said Allen talks tough on budget discipline but ducks tough decisions; that he is "all boots and no cattle" — recalling the biting précis of Allen by the late Bob Kilpatrick, a nationally prominent insurance executive who refused to support him for the 1993 Republican nomination for governor.

But has Kaine credibility as a fiscal hawk? Depends who's asking. Kaine boasts lopping state spending as governor by $5 billion because of hard times. He also tried at least three times to raise taxes but was stopped by Republicans. Kaine won't bring this up. Allen, a tax-raiser as a state legislator, will — again and again and again.

Expect reruns, too, of the Jens Soering story, the Virginia equivalent of Willie Horton.

Heading out the door, Kaine agreed to transfer Soering to his native Germany from a Virginia prison where he is serving life for killing his girlfriend's parents. In German hands, the diplomat's son could have been released after two years. Gov. Bob McDonnell reversed the order.

Kaine, a smooth talker practiced over years in the courtroom, said at the debate he initially rejected Germany's request but went along after assurances that Soering would never return to the United States. That wasn't enough for Allen, gleefully contrasting Kaine's move with his own junking parole for fixed sentences.

At the back of the room, the candidates' cameras — lost among those of television stations and newspaper websites — recorded the 90-minute exchange, harvesting grist for commercials with two objectives: to tar-brush the other guy and to get under his skin.