While listening to the testimony, or lack thereof, from GOP Bright Young Man J. Scott Jennings, a 29 year old junior assistant toady in the Imperium, it occurred to me that it would only take one Imperium staffer to realize what a historic place he or she would have in history, if they were to ignore Bush’s claim of Executive Privilege and testified, truthfully and under oath, to Congress as to what, where, when, why, and how. They would be forever hailed as the patriot who began the dismantlement of the Imperial Presidency.
The Imperium chooses its toadies carefully, not emphasizing, oh, I don’t know, maybe competence as a major factor in hiring, but certainly loyalty. And that has, thus far, paid off. Claims of executive privilege and out-right stonewalling have kept the Congress at bay from looking into Bush’s underwear drawer. But the pressure is mounting, now. Contempt charges are beginning to fly. And if the threat of Bush’s "displeasure" are serious deterrents to truthful Congressional testimony, then that must be weighed, in their frightened little minds, against the idea of someday facing real Congressional wrath, up to and including multiple felony counts.
It would only take one. More on the flip.
It would only take one. One frightened little chickenhawk who realizes that the Imperium won’t be in power forever (despite their wet dreams to the contrary) and that, someday, he or she may well have to face a grand jury and explain just why they were part of (insert illegal and unethical Imperium program here).
One can imagine what the chickenhawks are feeling like, right now. These aren’t the heady days when Real Men wanted to go to Iran, and Congress was a ceremonial focus group and occasional Imperial foil. No, these days there are plenty of Democratic Bright Young Men who are skulking about with subpoenas, and that’s a problem for the chickenhawks. They know it’s a problem because they’ve been ushered into the Boss’ office at some point in the last six months and met with someone with a law degree and a channel to the White House and told what not to say. Dire and vaguely worded threats might have been used. There was probably talk of the chickenhawk in question’s "future", with even more vague promises of reward for those who stay true to the Imperium.
The thing is, the chickenhawks are not, in general, stupid. At least not about power, and the way it’s wielded inside the beltway. They can feel which way the wind is blowing, and it’s smelling more like rotten meat every day. Less than 18 months and they will be out of a job, pounding the pavement looking for work from whichever of their Republican patrons hasn’t gone to jail yet. And they will be dodging reporters and subpoenas and investigations from a new crowd of very zealous, very idealistic Democrats who hold Accountability near and dear to their hearts.
So they sit in their expensive Virginia apartments and wonder: which one will go first? Which one will cave in to the pressure, accept immunity from prosecution in exchange for their testimony, and rat the rest of them out – all the way to the chief rats?
This isn’t 2003 anymore. The GOP is on the ropes, with only the faintest of hope that they will convince a pissed-off electorate to let them keep the White House or a competitive standing in Congress. And with eight solid years of snide skullduggery to feed on, those zealous newcomers are going to make it very painful, and very expensive, to defend all of their malfeasances and misfeasances. Very expensive – and no one is going to be hiring Republican lobbyists any more, either, which means having to get a real job. Dick Cheney was right – it’s a witch hunt. And the Democratic villagers have torches and pitchforks and they are going to want blood.
For now, they have Executive Privilege to shield them from accountability. But it’s not fool proof, and violating the code of silence and spilling your guts in defiance of Executive Privilege carries . . . no actual penalty. Oh, you’d never work for a neo-con Republican again, and you’d be forced to play only public golf courses after that, but the President can’t do anything, y’know, legal against you, now can he? There’s no statute against violating Executive Privilege. It’s a gentleman’s agreement, really. Oh, sure, the tinfoil hats might be worried that a squad of Blackwater commandos would repel out of a black helicopter and kidnap you in the middle of the night, never to be seen again, but that couldn’t happen in America, could it? That would be illegal . . . wouldn’t it? No, violating Executive Privilege about non-Classified things is NOT illegal. But Obstruction of Justice is.
Scooter got a commutation – but he was right there in the Inner Circle, and had dirt that could be very, very damaging. But can the average thirty-something chickenhawk count on Bush to scribble off a pardon for every Bright Young Functionary who ever shredded an incriminating email? Probably not. Especially not if the Man, Himself is embroiled in an impeachment investigation – and if the Dems can go after the AG, can W be far behind? That has got to be keeping them up nights. Because, barring a total Republican coup d’etat, there is no way that they’re going to be able to avoid the fallout from this most corrupt of Administrations. Someone’s going to hang.
It’s only a matter of when. And whom.
Presidents come and go. Congress is forever. And there is no statute of limitations on Obstruction of Justice (I could be wrong about this – feel free to correct me). In eighteen months or so, real change will happen, real accountability will happen, and a new Chief Executive will be signing new Executive Orders overturning all those protective measures BushCo has put into place. And then there will be nowhere to hide, and nobody to protect them. So they cling to the protection of "Executive Privilege" and hope that the investigations and subpoenas will just go away, like back in the Good Ol’ Days, and then they start realizing that if even one of their fellow chickenhawks sells out, it will be the crack in the dike that will drown them all.
They know these guys. The same ones they shared a prostitute with at the Young Republicans convention, the ones they cheated at poker against and bought weed from back in their undergraduate days -- the ones that would sell out their closest family members if it meant advancing the neo-con cause. Can they trust them? All of them? Is the Republican bond of brotherhood so strong that it will take them through the next few years of court appearances and depositions and attorney's fees?
Of course not. They know these guys. Someone will break.
And that first chickenhawk that turns his feathers, he or she will be a celebrity, on the front page of the NYT, interviewed by Larry King and the New York Times and doing book tours on the Daily Show, a fresh Immunity from Prosecution in their pocket. That first one will be safe. Everyone else will be just another defendant. Everyone else will hang. So they cower in their apartments and catch up on their regrets, and wonder if the little twerp who screwed with the science at NASA will be the one, or one of the creepy guys at the FDA who held up Plan B, or the pimply-faced clerk at the Treasury Department, or God forbid someone at Justice.
J. Scott Jennings didn’t break – he was a loyal trooper. But he was protected. Someone will break, eventually, they know it. Someone always breaks. Someone will start the ball rolling. Someone will bring down the crumbling edifice of the Imperium and let the peasants in, just to cash in on a book deal.
It only takes one.