I noticed this morning that Andrew Sullivan said, “David Brooks’ column today can only be described as an embarrassment.” How bad could it be, I thought.
Then I read it. Now I think Sullivan was understating the case.
It’s hard to tell exactly what Brooks’ point is, other than to express satisfaction at yesterday’s commutation of Scooter Libby, but he starts on a very wrong note: accusing Joe Wilson of dishonesty.
Mr. Wilson claimed that his wife had nothing to do with his trip to investigate Iraqi purchases in Niger, though that seems not to have been the case. He claimed his trip proved Iraq had made no such attempts, though his own report said nothing of the kind.
Brooks is parroting a canard frequently used by the uninformed: the scandal doesn’t matter because it originated with Wilson lying. The claim is demonstrably false, but it’s been at the top of the far-right talking points for several years. I expect a little more from someone in Brooks’ position, but he seems genuinely confused about the facts as they occurred.
Perhaps he should take a moment to read Josh Marshall’s take.
I have to say that the claim that Wilson’s charges have been discredited, disproved or even meaningfully challenged is simply false. What he said on day one is all true. It’s really as simple as that.
There’s a tendency, even among too many people of good faith and good politics, to shy away from asserting and admitting this simple fact because Wilson has either gone on too many TV shows or preened too much in some photo shoot. But that is disreputable and shameful. The entire record of this story has been under a systematic, unfettered and, sadly, largely unresisted attack from the right for four years. Key facts have been buried under an avalanche of misinformation. The then-chairman of the Senate intelligence committee made his committee an appendage of the White House and himself the president’s bawd and issued a report built on intentional falsehood and misdirection.
No one is perfect. The key dividing line is who’s telling the truth and who’s lying. Wilson is on the former side, his critics the latter. Everything else is triviality.
But wait, Brooks isn’t done.
After launching his column on an easily-debunked myth, Brooks adds this gem:
That was back when everybody thought Rove was the key leaker. But then it turned out he wasn’t. Richard Armitage was, as Fitzgerald knew from the start.
Did Rove call reporters about Valerie Plame? Yes. Was she a covert operative at the CIA at the time? Yes. Was Rove supposed to keep that a secret? Yes. Did he leak it anyway to advance his political agenda and deceive the nation about a war? Yes. Did he then mislead federal investigators? Yes. Was he nearly brought up on criminal charges? Yes.
Does Brooks know what he’s talking about? No.
Brooks concluded:
And finally, yesterday, came Act Five, and a paradox. Scooter Libby emerged as the least absurd character in the entire drama, and yet he was the one who committed a crime. President Bush entered the stage like a character from another world, a world in which things make sense.
His decision to commute Libby’s sentence but not erase his conviction was exactly right. It punishes him for his perjury, but not for the phantasmagorical political farce that grew to surround him.
This “makes sense”? A pardon might “make sense,” but commuting a sentence that hadn’t started yet, but continuing to accept the conviction is anything but sensible.