Plus ça change
One of the mysteries of this presidential campaign has been the furor in Democratic circles over the pregnancy of Governor Sarah Palin's eldest daughter, Bristol. Of course, as THE SCRAPBOOK readily acknowledges, the fact that Bristol Palin is 17 years old, and not yet married to the father of her baby, was bound to raise some eyebrows and inspire irreverent jokes-even among Republicans. That's the way of the world. But in characteristic fashion, many progressives have reacted not with understanding, or even amusement, but with near-unrestrained fury. In particular, the blogosphere has been rife with gynecologic terminology and demands for medical records, Governor Palin has been accused of bad parenting, and her daughter has been subject to rumors and innuendo beyond description.
To his credit, Barack Obama declared that the Palin children are "off limits" in the campaign, but that message seems not yet to have penetrated the ranks of his supporters. This makes Democrats look both supremely foolish and astonishingly cruel. There is no family in America devoid of the occasional misstep, and there is a world of difference between a teenage pregnancy and genuine malfeasance. Governor Palin has been candid about the matter, and as a parent, compassionate and practical. Beyond that, there's nothing to say.
Except, perhaps, that there is a historical parallel of sorts-and an instructive one at that. As every schoolboy knows, Grover Cleveland was the Democratic candidate for president in 1884, and in the course of the campaign, a Republican newspaper reported that Cleveland (who was not married) had once fathered a child. Naturally, his campaign was caught flat-footed by the story, but Governor Cleveland wired some famous instructions to his staff: "Whatever you say, tell the truth."
The truth was that Cleveland had once formed an "illicit connection" with a widow named Maria Halpin, and a baby had been born. The evidence was not conclusive that Cleveland was the father, but he had assumed responsibility for the child and refused to dissemble about the matter when running for president. Americans were impressed. Holier-than-thou Republicans were made to look silly, Cleveland came across as brave and honorable, and he won the election.
Cleveland, by the way, had been just another lawyer in Buffalo when he became the "Veto Mayor" in 1882, cleaning up political graft, and was elected the reform governor of New York later that year, taking on the powers within his own political party. Sound familiar? On election night 1884 his supporters gathered at polling places and sang the following tune:
Hurrah for Maria,
Hurrah for the kid;
We voted for Grover,
And we're damned glad we did!
THE SCRAPBOOK wonders if this famous quatrain might be adapted for Election Night 2008.
Sarah Palin Assembles Her Foreign Policy Team
(Actually, the governor visits the Little Norway Festival, Petersburg, Alaska, 2007.)
Giving the Surge Its Due
Where does the New York Times bury good news that it feels it must report but disapproves of? Why, in the Saturday paper of Labor Day weekend, naturally. That's where you'll find Michael Gordon's excellent account, "Troop 'Surge' Took Place Amid Doubt and Debate," of how President Bush finally turned the Iraq war around. (Readers may recall that Fred Barnes wrote a similar account in these pages, "How Bush Decided on the Surge," February 4, 2008; not being the New York Times, we featured it on the cover.)
Writes Gordon:
The White House has long touted the "surge" of forces in Iraq as one of President Bush's proudest achievements. But that decision, one of Mr. Bush's most consequential as commander in chief, was made only after months of tumultuous debate within the administration, according to still-secret memorandums and interviews with a broad range of current and former officials. In January 2007, at a time when the situation in Iraq appeared the bleakest, Mr. Bush chose a bold option that was at odds with what many of his civilian and military advisers, including his field commander, initially recommended. Mr. Bush's plan to send more than 20,000 troops to carry out a new counterinsurgency strategy has helped to reverse the spiral of sectarian killings in Iraq.
Our only quibble is with that but in the second sentence, which suggests that making the correct decision after tumultuous debate, over the opposition of many of his advisers, somehow renders the president's decision less praiseworthy. To the contrary, it underscores the leadership he showed against all odds.
Sentences We Didn't Finish
"Has anyone noticed that Sarah Palin's central claim to political fame is a fraud? She represents herself as a fiscal conservative who . . ." (Eugene Robinson, Washington Post, Sept. 2, 2008).
Sentences We Didn't Finish, II
"I put on a shalwar kameez and a headscarf in Morocco for a trip to the bazaar. Yes, some of the warmth I encountered was probably from the novelty of seeing a Westerner so clothed; but, as I moved about the market-the curve of my breasts covered, the shape of my legs obscured, my long hair not flying about me-I felt a novel sense of calm and serenity. I felt, yes, in certain ways, free. Nor are Muslim women alone. The Western Christian tradition portrays all sexuality, even married sexuality, as sinful. Islam and Judaism never had that same kind of . . ." (Naomi Wolf, "Beyond the veil lives a thriving Muslim sexuality," Sydney Morning Herald, August 30, 2008).