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Edited on Tue Mar-25-08 10:35 AM by SteppingRazor
First, the idea that pardoning Nixon was a good idea and that "30 years later, everybody recognized it."
Well, that's simply untrue. I, for one, think it was a terrible idea. So, that pretty much takes care of "everybody."
But its the precedent here that's even more mistaken -- the very notion that pardoning Richard Nixon was a good idea. After his presidency, Nixon famously said, "When the president does it, that means it's not illegal." Ford's pardon only reinforced that fact -- that the president, instead of being a first among equals and a servant to the citizens of this country, is something more than the citizens, something greater. Immune to punishment, indeed, immune to justice. His stepping down was the merest political expediency, not punishment, though it did mark the end of his official career.
But Nixon was a force in politics till his dying day. Hell, even Clinton showed up to his funeral -- he was still that important, that far from true disgrace.
The pardoning of Richard Nixon was not merely a miscarriage of justice. It was a proof that the rich and the powerful, at the highest, rarefied limits of that power, are wholly immune from the laws that we ourselves abide by. The pardoning of Richard Nixon revealed that we are, at our extreme, not at all a nation of laws, that there is no forward motion at the heights, and that as far as we may wish to climb, it is impossible for those on top to slide to the bottom. To borrow a phrase from Hunter Thompson's obituary of Nixon, "by disgracing and degrading the Presidency of the United States, by fleeing the White House like a diseased cur, Richard Nixon broke the heart of the American Dream."
Pardoning the man who broke us all upon the unmovable force of his own ego? No, Dick, that was not a good idea.
In fact, it would perhaps be the worst thing Jerry Ford ever did, were it not for the fact that he gave a young up-and-comer in the Republican Party the White House chief of staff job, thereby setting in motion a career that would eventually see you, Dick, rise to those same heights of power that Nixon once enjoyed. And like him, you too will slink off when your time is over, to spend your waning years radiating a slowly ebbing malignance, like the last destructive rays of a dying star. And you will never see the inside of a prison cell, and you will never know the loss of your freedom or your reputation, such as it is. And when you finally die, whoever may be president will come to your funeral. But that doesn't make it right.
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