A Rational Animal

An internationally known human-rights advocate, Drinan was elected on an anti-war platform and represented Massachusetts in the U.S. House for 10 years during the turbulent 1970s.

He stepped down only after a worldwide directive from Pope John Paul II barring priests from holding public office.

During his Congressional tenure, Drinan continued to dress in the robes of his clerical order and lived in a simple room in the Jesuit community at Georgetown.

But he wore his liberal views more prominently. He opposed the draft, worked to abolish mandatory retirement and raised eyebrows with his more moderate views on abortion and birth control.

Although a poll at the time showed that 30 percent of the voters in his district thought it was improper for a priest to run for office, Drinan considered politics a natural extension of his work in public affairs and human rights.

His run for office came a year after he returned from a trip to Vietnam, where he said he discovered that the number of political prisoners being held in South Vietnam was rapidly increasing, contrary to State Department reports. In a book the next year, he urged the Catholic Church to condemn the war as ‘’morally objectionable.'’

He became the first member of Congress to call for the impeachment of Richard Nixon — although the call wasn’t related to the Watergate scandal, but rather what Drinan viewed as the administration’s undeclared war against Cambodia.

‘’Can we be silent about this flagrant violation of the Constitution?'’ Drinan demanded angrily back then. ‘’Can we impeach a president for concealing a burglary but not for concealing a massive bombing?'’

Decades later, at the invitation of Congress, he testified against the impeachment of another president: Bill Clinton. Drinan said Clinton’s misdeeds were not in the same league as Nixon’s, and that impeachment should be for an official act, not a private one.

After leaving office in 1980 — ‘’with regret and pain'’ — Drinan continued to be active in political causes. He served as president of the Americans for Democratic Action, crisscrossing the country giving speeches on hunger, civil liberties, and the perils of the arms race.

"[V]irtually all members of the committee were present, and senators of both parties recognized the value of probing this experienced and candid witness.

With one exception. Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton of New York used her time to make a speech about Iraq policy and did not ask a single question of the man who will be leading the military campaign."

She made a speech?  Good heavens!  Whatever could she have been thinking?  After all, it’s not as though any male senators have ever used hearings to "make a speech" - and certainly no Republican senators would ever dream of doing such a thing.  But wait . . . there’s more:

Re-read that second graf again, especially the first four words.  Got that?  In the, um, er, inherently partisan institution that is the U.S. Senate, the bitch had the temerity to deliver a "partisan opening."

Then he excoriates her for asking Petraeus for his "assurance that ‘we have every possible piece of equipment and resource necessary to protect these young men and women’ going into battle," which elicited a "four-word response," and then being "finished."  Because, remember, "[s]he had no questions to ask."

Then, our pearl-clutching pundit turns to one of his favorite "bipartisan" types:  St. John of the Surge.  Oh, yes, indeedy-do.   

Let’s see what Broderella has to say about McCain:

‘Cause, you know, none of St. John’s questions could possibly have been considered "posturing."  Nor could Holy Joe Lieberman’s whining administration handjob question, or Saxby "Max Cleland [Hearts] Osama" Chambliss’s surge suckup question.

But then we get to the real point:

I’ll bet you can, Broderella.  Of course, they might be fantasies as much as "possible explanations," but why let that stop you?  And, of course, he doesn’t:

“And this is not about ‘terrorists don’t like freedom’; tell that to the Palestinian people, who have been chained down for many, many years.”

Yeah, I know he’s eyeing the White House.  Yeah, I know he’s a conservative Republican.  But why the fuck is it that he is willing to say what needs to be said, in plain English, without weaseling, and Biden, Kerry, Clinton, Obama, Dodd, and the whole lot of ‘em aren’t?

Note to Democrats:  If you want the White House - if you presume to think that you could possibly lead this country - then grow a fuckin’ pair and start acting like goddamn leaders. 

The only Democrat who has shown a spine through this whole mess is Russ Feingold, and he’s already taken himself out of the race.  Kerry?  Yeah, he finally made some solid statements at this hearing - after Hagel paved the way.  Clinton and Obama?  If they think they can skim our votes off the top without addressing THE issue, Iraq, now and in concrete terms, then neither one deserves the slightest consideration, because they’ll show themselves not to be serious candidates.  Biden and Dodd?  Well, neither stands the proverbial snowball’s chance anyway, but that alone should free them to take moral stands. 

Obviously, moral courage is still in short supply.

If you are not willing to stand up and be counted when it matters . . . if you are not willing to demonstrate a minimum of political courage . . . if you are not willing to skate out where the ice is a little thin and rescue our drowning troops . . . in short, if you are not willing to show a little serious moral leadership, then fuck you.  You don’t deserve my vote.

For example, in "Deceit," the chapter is supposed to provide illumination on how the Apaches were lied to and the fall of Cochise. Instead, sentences like "A new general, known equally for self-promotion and effectiveness, was installed to oversee a mammoth military commitment" leave the reader wondering what is happening. Which general? Does his name live in the history books? Should I know him? Could it be Custer? His name is never mentioned.

Um, no, it couldn’t be Custer (wrong time and place).  But Blake is playing hide-the-ball:  "What?  You don’t recognize the general from my description?  Your grasp of history is obviously defective, so why should I share my special information with you?"

Blake also clearly thinks that the mainstream success of Dances With Wolves establishes him as an official Friend of the Indian.  Leave aside, for the moment, Native Americans’ numerous and legitimate criticisms of DWW (and leave aside the laughability of DWW’s author being someone who "gets" Native America).  One Native American friend of mine looked at the cover and snorted at the title.  Indian Yell?!  His cynicism turns out to be well-founded:  Phrases like "free-living" abound.  Memo to Blake:  Being anti-U.S. military ≠ "getting Indian-ness."  Of course, the fact that the jacket blurbs led with, and I quote, "LEONARD PELTIER, noted artist, and author of Prison Writings," should have warned me.  I’ll explore that dynamic in detail when I post a full review.

Yeah, I’m gonna finish it.  Some of the historical tidbits are worth reading, although I feel like I’m going to have to verify each one independently.

While I was in Taos this week, I also picked up the third book on my list, Jonathan Lear’s Radical Hope:  Ethics in the Face of Cultural Devastation.  I was intrigued in part by Lisa’s comment to the effect that Lear’s is "the language of the philosopher," although she characterized it as "personally revelatory."  Lisa, that’s waving the red flag in front of the proverbial bull.  (Phil minor in college; what can I say?)  I’ve just begun it, but I’m already reasonably sure that I’m going to find it more useful than Blake’s.

Finally, my bedtime reading consists of a non-native book - lent to me, ironically, by a Native American friend:  Refuge, by Terry Tempest Williams.  It came with a glowing recommendation; he describes it as "peaceful."  Looking over the synopsis, I rather doubt, considering events in my life in recent months, that I’ll find it "peaceful" - rather, I think I’m going to find it damn difficult.  But that’s not the book’s fault.  And since this is someone whose opinion I respect utterly, I think maybe it’s not so much that it’s a book I should want to read as perhaps one that I need to read right now.  He has an uncanny ability to bring me exactly what I need before I even know I need anything at all, so maybe this is another example.

Watch this space for reviews of all four over the next two weeks. 

George the Obtuse issued the following proclamation on the occasion of the anniversary of Roe v. Wade:

America was founded on the principle that we are all endowed by our Creator with the right to life and that every individual has dignity and worth. National Sanctity of Human Life Day helps foster a culture of life and reinforces our commitment to building a compassionate society that respects the value of every human being.

Among the most basic duties of Government is to defend the unalienable right to life, and my Administration is committed to protecting our society’s most vulnerable members. We are vigorously promoting parental notification laws, adoption, abstinence education, crisis pregnancy programs, and the vital work of faith-based groups. Through the "Born-Alive Infants Protection Act of 2002," the "Partial-Birth Abortion Ban Act of 2003," and the "Unborn Victims of Violence Act of 2004," we are helping to make our country a more hopeful place.

So the justification for various abortion regulations and subsidies of anti-abortion organizations is that there is an "unalienable right to life" that applies to fetuses, and that the principle that "every individual has dignity and worth" apparently applies to fetuses. So I can only assume that the next step will be an intense national campaign to have abortion immediately prosecuted as first degree murder in all 50 states–the only defensible policy flowing from Bush’s premises. At the very least, every women who obtains an abortion, every doctor who performs and abortion, and everyone who assists in the abortion should be executed, and everyone who knows about the abortion be prosecuted as an accessory to capital murder. It’s the least he can do and sleep at noght.

Or, alternatively, Bush could stop justifying stupid, irrational laws using moral arguments that as applied to abortion he (like most people who use them) obviously doesn’t take seriously. And in doing so, cynically degrades our highest constitutional principles (and, indirectly, uses the dignity of the civil rights movement to justify the restriction of women’s rights.) That would be good too.

Renaming it National Irony Day, Shakes has posted her usual stellar "Fuck You" to Bush and his anti-choice buddies here. 

But I want to take a moment to explain why this issue is so important to me - and why, when the weather is bad and I’m supposed to be getting ready to drive to Albuquerque, I’m instead taking time to blog this morning.

One month from today, it will have been exactly 15 years since I had an abortion.  It was not a decision that I took lightly; in fact, it was fraught with fear and sadness.  But it was the best decision I could have made under my particular circumstances - and, in fact perhaps the best one I’ve made, period, in terms of major life decisions.  I do not regret it for a moment; I never have.

Fifteen years ago, my boyfriend and I were in a new relationship.  We were also broke - and by that I mean barely-able-to-pay-the-rent-and-keep-the-lights-on broke.  Yes, we used birth control; it failed.  (Not that we realized it at the time.)

Within a couple of days, I was sick.  Nausea, cramps, the whole nine yards.  I thought my period was starting early.

After two weeks of this - my period was by now a few days late - I scraped together the money for a pregnancy test.  And my whole world fell apart.

I was a student; for the first time in my life, I actually had a chance to break the bonds that had kept my family tied to poverty and fundamentalism.  (I’m the only member of my family to go to college, much less law school; only two of us four kids even graduated from high school.)  For the first time in my life, I was able to see light at the end of the tunnel.  And when the blue plus sign appeared in that little window, that light flickered, and then winked out.

I can’t begin to describe the sense of devastation, of desolation, that I felt.  Probably only a woman who’s been there truly knows how soul-shattering it can be.  I can’t be pregnant; I was being safe.  I can’t be pregnant; I’ve got too much to do.  I can’t be pregnant; this isn’t happening to me.  But it is.  And you realize right away that you’ve got to deal with it, and that means that you’ve got some very hard decisions to make.

Add to that mix the constant physical pain and nausea I felt.  Add to that mix the knowledge that, to my family, I would be committing an unpardonable sin.  Add to that the fact that the only person I could talk to about it was my boyfriend.  (At his urging, I made the mistake of telling one of our friends; she clearly thought I was committing murder.) 

And yet, I consider myself one of the lucky ones.  My boyfriend supported whatever decision I made - and, in fact, we managed to stay together for nine years.  I had access to abortion services at a warm, sterile clinic staffed by skilled professionals.  (Although my access wasn’t assured; back then, it cost more than $400, and we didn’t have the money.  The finally agreed to let us pay in installments, and we went without other things for a couple of months to pay it off.)

And while I’m on the subject of the clinic, let’s clear up a few things about such places, shall we?  I’m sick of the right wing’s use of the phrase "abortion mills," connoting an assembly line in which women’s bodies are merely cogs, to be scraped and then shunted out of the way to make room for the next womb to be scraped.

Bullshit.

The clinic I went to required (by law) counseling and a 24-hour waiting period.  They encouraged partners to come along (mine did), but they interviewed the woman privately first to ensure that she really did want him there.  And at every stage of the process, from initial intake to pre-counseling interview to counseling to the moments before the procedure, I was asked, "Is this what you want?  Is anyone pressuring you into this?  If this is your choice, we’ll do it, but if you don’t want to, it’s all right - just tell us, and we’ll help you deal with your partner [or whomever]."  I was shown a video explaining what the procedure would entail, and including information about fetal development, as required by state law (because, you know, women aren’t really bright enough to make an informed choice without having paternalistic propaganda shoved down their throats - or up their twats, as the case may be).  Thankfully, it was not a state where I had to view graphic and gory footage of putative aborted fetuses.

I was given an IV local; it knocked me out before the procedure even began.  I wasn’t even sure who the doctor was until I returned a couple weeks later for my follow-up visit.  He was a slightly-built Indian man with curly hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and an incredibly gentle demeanor.  After a thorough check-up, he looked me in the eye and asked how I was "doing" - meaning the psychological effects.  I told him I was okay.  Then I said, "Doctor - thank you."  He took both my hands in his, held them a moment, thanked me for thanking him, and said, "And, please - vote pro-choice."  When I assured him that I would, he thanked me again, and said that I would be surprised how many people in my situation wouldn’t.  I told him that I would be voting pro-choice from this point forward.

And I have.  And I can’t imagine ever voting for an anti-choice candidate.  Because when I think back fifteen years, to that scared, desperate girl who felt like she had nowhere to turn, and realize that I was one of the lucky ones . . . .  So many women don’t have the options that I had, the resources, the choice.  And no politician, no religious fanatic, nobody has the right to tell any of us what to do with our bodies.  Our wombs are ours.  And we will decide what to do with them, thank you very much.