January 9, 2005

I think I get depressed every January

I am often depressed in the new year. Probably not that uncommon. After all, we spend the second half of the year gearing up for Christmas and when it is gone, it leaves a hole. My family has had a rough year, and I am still tired from the last half of the year. My job isn't great. I am grateful to have one, but feel like I am treading water.

The news hasn't been good for people who think like me. I know that may be a small group, but it matters to me. Tsunamis, torture, etc. All depressing. I know I have written about this before, but I still struggle with the religious right and their abdication of moral responsibility. I can't answer why that bothers me so much. Why do I care what Jerry Falwell or the SBC church down the street thinks? I think I still see them with moral authority. You don't grow up in a SBC household without internalizing a lot of the religious thinking. For years, even as I disagreed with my friends and family who were in conservative churches, I conceded a sense of morality to them. I no longer do that.

When conservatives chided me about Clinton's sex life, I knew they had a point. I argued (and continue to argue) that Clinton's immoral act was personal. I don't condone it, but neither did I think it rose to the level of impeachment. I understood that this particular argument held very little credence to my conservative friends who saw in Clinton an embodiment of the moral decline of our country. That moral decline was intensely personal and my conservative friends wanted that to stop or change. I could respect that. I disagreed, but respected that.

That respect is gone now. The same people who chided me for Clinton have bent over backward to excuse Bush. As the bumper sticker goes: "When Clinton lied, no one died." That pretty much sums it up. Bush has dissembled with arrogance. He has ignored advice. He has contributed to the deaths of thousands of Iraqis. He has put America in a vulnerable place by invading a country disconnected to the war on terror. He has been less than honest about his motives, and the cost has been massive.

What does this have to do with my depression? I have written recently about Albert Gonzales and his support of torture, and the inconceivable notion of appointing him to AG and possibly the Supreme Court later. Here is yet another story about Gonzales. I wrote about this sometime ago, but Salon is rerunning the original story. When Gonzales was counsel to then Governor Bush, he edited or so poorly represented the death penalty clemency appeals, that Bush had no problem sending these people to their deaths.

Gonzales' memos, running anywhere from three to seven pages, are, in many cases, so slapdash, incomplete and inaccurate that no one relying on them could possibly make a fair, balanced and intelligent decision as to whether clemency should have been a consideration. Anyone relying solely on Gonzales' briefings would have probably done exactly what Bush did -- put a little black check next to the word "Deny" at the end of the summary and send the offender to his death. True, Gonzales and his staff of lawyers were handling an unprecedented number of executions. But Gonzales' omissions appear less the oversights of overworked attorneys than the deliberate design of a lawyer who knew what his client wanted -- an open-and-shut argument for execution -- and was all too happy to deliver.

How otherwise might one explain Gonzales' summary of the Terry Washington murder case? Washington was executed on May 6, 1997, for the murder of Beatrice Huling, a 29-year-old mother of two. Huling was stabbed 85 times and nearly eviscerated. For many people those facts alone would be sufficient to fry Washington. But Bush seemed to set forth a higher moral standard of review. In his autobiography, "A Charge to Keep," he wrote that he wanted to be informed if "there are new facts or evidence of which a jury was unaware, or evidence that the trial was somehow unfair."

Yet in Washington's case there was a sizable body of evidence the jury never heard, which should have made it glaringly obvious that Washington's trial met even the most conservative definition of unfairness. Jurors weren't told that Washington was mentally retarded and brain damaged, that as a child he and his 10 siblings were repeatedly whipped with water hoses, extension cords, wire hangers and automobile fan belts. Gonzales apparently concluded that this evidence was insignificant, because he didn't bother to mention it in the summary he prepared for Bush. Instead he wrongly suggested that there was "conflicting information" about Washington's mental state. Gonzales also didn't bother to mention Washington's forceful claim of ineffective counsel, arising from his attorney's failure first to present jurors with the mitigating evidence of Washington's childhood abuse and mental retardation and, second, to call a mental health expert to testify to these facts.


Back to my depression. The moral people I used to respect have bent over backward to excuse someone who supported torture--and someone who made it easier to consign to our dubious death penalty system. The Christians--who claim to believe in life and truth--have made excuses for someone who lies and kills. How does that happen? How do moral people look the other way while one of their political heroes acts with such callousness toward life?

It is hard for me to come to any other conclusion than these people don't care about life or truth as they say. I think this qualifies as evil. If you can callously look the other way when possibly innocent people are executed, that is evil. What does it make you if you promote someone who does that? And if you look the other way as an American, then........

4 comments:

Black Sheep said...

Streak,

I too struggle with this time of year - shorter days, cold and clouds(I live in Michigan), and just wanting to curl up under a blanket and snooze. As for your struggles with our society's double standards in religion, government, and culture I'm in the same boat. So far my attempts at discussing, what I think, are the glaring "evils" of Bush's policies with my conservative family and friends have been met with a condicending nod and an amazing ability for viewing this pres with very narrow blinders. I can't tell you how many times I've heard, "well, you voted for that morally bankrupt Clinton!!!" . . .and therefore I have no credibility on arguing about this president's morality.

I get so tired sometimes.

Brandon said...

I have to say, my friend, you alert me to things that I should be interested in. Thanks for being my watch dog.

Streak said...

Thanks for the great comments. Leighton, I have posted a response to your question, but it is very muddled and incoherent. I will work on a better one. Monday morning is not my best time!

BlackSheep and Brandon, thanks for the good thoughts. I do think that the specter of Clinton hangs over the Bush supporters. They hated Clinton so much and were so contemptuous of his supporters, that they glommed onto Bush as some kind of savior. They are personally invested with him being something great and moral, and it costs them tremendously to consider otherwise. That is a warning to the progressives, that when we finally get an alternative, we have to be careful of that.

kbonline said...

I think I understand why the abdication of true morality by the religious right is depressing. For me, it's a wistfulness, a pining and melancholy wish that these groups would live up to their potential to lift people up to higher standards, to live what they preach and thereby give hope and inspire us to make the world a better place. That they don't is more than painful, it's dispiriting and disquieting. These religious communities could do SO MUCH good, good that it's reasonable to expect... and yet instead of inspiring us to work for a just and merciful world and to be living testaments to the love and grace of God, they are towering fonts of intolerance, injustice, damning judgment, arrogance, and domination. They represent for me the loss of my own idealism, my own belief that these communities of faith were the best place to make a difference in the world. That they aren't is just sad. They bother me because they take what may be the most honest desire we have - man's search for God - and manipulate it. I think anyone who belonged to a community of faith, believing that it was a place of kindness, love, committed to justice and doing what's right, who found that it wasn't what they thought, I think that person will always be a bit wounded by the loss of hope and trust, by the disillusionment they suffered. I want so badly for these groups to be what they should be and despite a very real understanding that they never will be, I suffer a slight spiritual 'paper cut' when I see how far they are from what they should be.

Being bothered by them is human and a sign that your heart is not hardened, that you still hope. And that's good.