Libby Commutation

Mr. Libby:

I'm bothered to see President Bush, who has never shown a particular desire to make use of the presidential powers of pardon or commutation, take a unique interest in the Libby case. That's not to say that the case was justly handled to begin with; followers of Cassandra's page, especially, have been kept up to date on the various oddities around the whole affair. There is no doubt that "Scooter" got extra-bad treatment from his political foes for being who he was; why shouldn't he get extra-good treatment from his allies?

Well, because factionalism is meant to stay outside of the justice system, not that it does. Prosecutors from Chicago famous for their ethics, as Fitzgerald was, are meant to keep to those ethics when given the chance to go after members of an administration unpopular in Chicago. Presidents who do not normally pardon or commute are meant to continue their preferences when dealing with intimates, just as they would with the poor and unknown.

I don't think the use of the Presidential pardon or commutation is unjust in and of itself -- in fact, I think it is vastly underused. Were I President (if you can imagine so unlikely a thing), I would make it my habit to subject every sentence to the review of my office, and commute or pardon freely when I felt injustice had been enacted by jury or judge. That is part of the President's job: to serve as a bulwark against injustice by the courts. That is why he was given the power. That recent Presidents have rarely used it only means that they have abandoned that responsibilty, not that the need for it no longer exists.

Yet to use that power once, for a friend, when you have denied it to nearly everyone else? That is not justice.

No one in this episode has covered himself with glory, at a time when our Republic could greatly have used an example to convice the People that the law still bound the powerful. There is no reason to be happy about any aspect of this episode. It has been disgusting from first to last.

Oddly enough, the only exception was Mr. Libby himself, who behaved in a generous and noble fashion at a time when that very action was likely to endanger his liberty. Perhaps alone among the actors in this drama he did something praiseworthy and right when it could not benefit him, and in fact was sure to harm him.

That cannot undo the fact that he was convicted by a jury of a deadly offense. Perjury, of which he was accused and convicted, is a terribly serious crime for a public official. The violation of one's oath attacks the foundations of our government, which invests great powers in public and military officials, but requires binding oaths of them in turn.

If only we could prosecute every one of them who seems to have violated his oath, with the severity that the offense deserves. But this episode underlines and affirms the lesson of the Clinton years: the political class that commands our government laughs at the concepts of honor and perjuy, and sneers at any attempt to enforce them.