In this morning's USA Today, White House spokesman Tony Snow makes what has to be considered the official case for Scooter Libby's commutation. Steve Benen does an admirable job taking apart the entire thing. I'd really just like to focus on this one part:
The Constitution gives the president the power to grant clemency in a wide range of cases, at his discretion, with no restrictions. In the final hours of the Clinton administration, this unfettered authority was embodied in a mad rush to push through pardons with dizzying haste.
Let's leave aside for the moment the fact that the most controversial pardon, the one that wiped the slate clean for Marc Rich, was spearheaded by none other than Scooter Libby, Marc Rich's lawyer.
Let's also leave aside the fact that Clinton was widely criticized for his last minute flurry of pardoning activity, by Republicans and Democrats alike. Henry Waxman, for example, suggested it was a "mess" that would “embarrass every Democrat in America,” while Former president Carter called it "disgraceful."
Instead, let's focus on one very simple thing: Snow's own words about the Clintons, written back on January 6, 2001:
I HAD PROMISED myself not to write again about Bill Clinton -- not to give the Big Creep the satisfaction of publicity -- but events have forced my hand. The Man from Hope couldn't resist the temptation to give us one last White Trash Weekend, as he departed the White House and George W. Bush moved in.
Let us begin with the merely tacky. In the waning days of his pruriency, ex-president Clinton sent out an APB to Democratic fund-raisers, outlining his post-office home-furnishing needs. He and the Mrs. (now the Sen.) wanted to pack their big new homes with spiffy stuff -- no retail, thank you very much; only the finest in tables, chairs, sofas, rugs, silver, linens, crystal, lighting, painting, window treatments, armoires, cabinets, televisions, sculptures and so on. Contributors dutifully ponied up -- before the Mrs. became a Sen., and therefore subject to limits on gifts.Word is the couple also put together a weird variation on a bridal registry, establishing password-protected sites in which contributors could pledge to purchase specific items selected in advance by the Clintons' design teams for their his 'n' hers palazzos.
At a minimum, the duo marched out of the executive mansion with $200,000 worth of furnishings, a record that seems certain to stand for some time. The contributors included not only the normal run of Hollywood airheads, but also one Denise Rich, whose generosity toward the Democratic Party helped persuade Clinton to issue a last minute pardon for her ex-husband, a fugitive who pilfered millions of dollars worth of other people's money (which, come to think of it, seems a pretty apt description of the modern legislative process).
Clinton, perhaps eager to prove that his loyalties are affordable for the well-heeled, also handed out pardons to a dozen or so other party donors, thus demonstrating that in his administration, nothing tilted the scale of justice like a fat wad of cash.
But this was the merely tacky part. Now comes the disgusting. Let us start our tour of disaster sites with the White House, where the Clinton Kids decided to depart with a bang. They trashed word processors, left obscene messages on voice-mail machines, cut some phone lines and re-routed others, tinkered with computers, scrawled obscenities on walls, soiled rugs and carpets, tipped over desks, vandalized file cabinets, left nasty messages for their successors -- and generally went that extra mile to prove Team Clinton, for all its good and decent public servants, included a record number of punks. (Typically, Tipper Gore apologized for the mess; Bill and Hil did not.)
The executive mansion itself was a wreck as well, as was the Boeing 747 loaned graciously by President George W. Bush. Clinton insisted on the grand transport because he wanted something befitting his personal grandeur. He flew into New York's John F. Kennedy International Airport rather than the smaller Westchester County Airport nearer to his "home" because he wanted one last ride on the big jet. (The Westchester runways are too short to accommodate a jumbo jet.) Unfortunately, when the loaned aircraft returned to its hangar at Andrews Air Force Base, it looked as if it has been stripped by a skilled band of thieves -- or perhaps wrecked by a trailer-park twister.
Gone were the porcelain dishes bearing the presidential seal, along with silverware, salt and pepper shakers, pillows, blankets, candies -- and even toothpaste. It makes one feel grateful that the seats and carpets are bolted down.
Nothing better expresses the narcissistic tackiness of the Clinton years than the last-day exit, complete with its kangaroo-court justice, graceless self-celebration, opportunistic abuse of the gift-receiving privilege and wanton desecration of the nation's most important political shrine, the White House.
No doubt a few Clinton loyalists will rise in defense of their man. But as his presidency recedes into memory, his defenders will filter away slowly and sheepishly, knowing they have devoted an unseemly amount of their time and energy to arguing that good was bad and evil was virtue. Eventually, though, everyone looks through a glass darkly, then face to face -- and delusional political spin gives way to moral epiphany.
Bill Clinton wanted a place in history. He wanted the serenades that greeted Theodore Roosevelt on his departure from office nearly a century ago. But he couldn't overcome the urge to sully tradition one last time, to demonstrate that he was different from all the others, to embarrass his friends and hearten his detractors by giving the public one last reason for saying, "Goodbye and good riddance."
We learned years ago that the "Clinton trashed the place before he left" narrative was bullshit. Now, apparently, Snow is conceding that their previous narrative about Cinton's pardons was a lie as well. Everything he said before? Didn't mean it. Not one bit.
The entire Bush-Cheney campaign in 2000 was premised on one very simple idea: they would restore honor and integrity to the White House. Here, for example, is how the president himself put it on January 26, 2001:
The people—some people—take a look at the election and say, "Well, gosh, the country is too divided. Nothing will happen." Our mission is to prove them wrong. It's to not only restore faith in Government by results, positive results for the people, but also to restore faith in Government by how we behave, by how we conduct the people's business. I know we can do it.
Clinton once was evil incarnate. Now, apparently, he was a model president. If that's not the ultimate flip flop, I don't know what is.
UPDATE: Tony Snow decides to dig himself in deeper. His latest argument? Clinton has a "gigantic case" of "chutzpah" for questioning Bush's decision. Amazingly, not a single member of the White House Press follows up by repeating Snow's own words to him.
Meanwhile, "Multiple Choice" Mitt has announced his support for he president's decision, calling it "reasonable." As Governor, Romney was the first governor in state history to deny every request for a pardon or commutation. And his reason? He didn't want to overturn the decision of a jury. Once upon a time not so long ago he was proud of that fact. Now? Apparently not so much.
And if you really want to get angry, go read this post and accompanying Atlantic article about Bush's history - or lack thereof - of pardons and commutations while governor of Texas. "Ineffective counsel, conflict of interest, mitigating evidence, even actual evidence of innocence" - none of those mattered to the governor. But Libby? There's his family to think of, you see, and he'll never get back his once sterling reputation. What other choice did bush have?
UPDATE: Six Degrees of Scooter Libby. Its weirder than you think.
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