Truth - Al Franken [57]
The tsunami struck the northern coast of Sumatra at around 8 A.M. local time on December 26. But it was still Christmas Day in Crawford, Texas, where George W. Bush was taking the first well-deserved vacation of his presidency. Amid the worldwide outpouring of grief, sympathy, and pledges of help, Bush would not comment publicly on the terrible catastrophe for a full three days. Even by December 28, as international aid agencies scrambled to prevent further loss of life and a stunned world began to grasp the magnitude of the unfolding horror, the President did not speak, preferring instead to go bicycling and clear brush on his ranch, and perhaps write Christmas thank-you notes. Those concerned about America’s collapsed standing in the world began to grumble that the President was missing a rare opportunity to engender some goodwill by showing that he was not indifferent to the suffering of non-Americans.
A White House official responded to this criticism by attacking Bill Clinton. Bush, he said, “didn’t want to make a symbolic statement about ‘We feel your pain.’ ”
No one missed the reference. As the Washington Post reported, “Many Bush aides believe Clinton was too quick to head for the cameras to hold forth on tragedies with his trademark empathy.”
That’s good old Dubya for you. Never one to make a show.
Four months later, back again in Crawford, President Bush faced another crisis. This crisis was arguably less earthshaking than the Asian tsunami. For example, instead of countless unexpected deaths and the destabilization of an entire region, it involved a single family’s dispute over the fate of one irreversibly brain-damaged, persistently vegetative woman in Florida. But the President’s response to this crisis was very different. In his response, as well as the response of Congress and the right-wing press, can be seen all the elements of dishonesty, hypocrisy, extremism, and corruption that I believe will lead to the complete and utter destruction of the Republican Party within one year and one month of the publication of this book.
Although I think that much of the response to the Schiavo case was ugly and richly deserving of scorn and ridicule, I don’t want to make light of what was a very real tragedy. In 1989, twenty-six year-old Terri Schiavo collapsed and stopped breathing, depriving her brain of oxygen for a prolonged period. Although doctors were able to restore her heartbeat, there is no credible evidence that she ever regained consciousness. But her family didn’t give up on her. In 1991, her husband and legal guardian, Michael Schiavo, began studying nursing so he could “learn more how to take care of Terri.” Michael would become a respiratory therapist and emergency room nurse. Terri’s parents, Robert and Mary Schindler, also poured themselves into caring for their daughter, hoping that she would recover.
In 1998, Michael, convinced that there was no hope for Terri, filed a petition to discontinue her life support. The Schindlers fought back in court. The ensuing seven-year legal battle became a flashpoint for the right-to-life movement. Now, in March of 2005, a Florida state circuit court judge had ruled that Michael Schiavo had the right to ask that his wife’s feeding tube be removed. The Schindlers appealed, but no other Florida court would take the case, and the feeding tube was removed. But hope was not lost. Over the years, some powerful people had taken up the Schindlers’ cause. And those powerful friends had some chits to cash in.
On March 20, the day before Palm Sunday, Senate Bill 686, which transferred jurisdiction of the Schiavo case to federal court, was passed unanimously by a narrow three-vote margin. I’m not contradicting myself. It was a voice vote, and only three senators—Frist (R-TN), Martinez (R-FL), and Santorum (R-PA)—voted. Can they do that?