[Congressional Record Volume 147, Number 94 (Monday, July 9, 2001)]
[Senate]
[Pages S7325-S7326]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
RES IPSA LOQUITUR
Mr. HELMS. Mr. President, the July edition of the American Legion
magazine features a remarkable statement of obvious truth by a much
maligned American who deserves far better than the petty sniping he
endures at the hands of cunning politicians and the media, neither of
whom would acknowledge the truth if they fell over it in the middle of
the street.
U.S. Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas pulled no punches in this
article. His piece in the American Legion magazine was headed,
appropriately, ``Courage v. Civility.'' Mr. Justice Thomas knows a good
bit about both. He is, himself, a civil gentleman who possesses great
courage.
The subhead on his piece pinpoints a great deal about how a good many
American freedoms are being lost. One of the things he says is, those
who censor themselves put fear ahead of freedom. I will quote briefly
from two or three statements made by the distinguished Justice of the
Supreme Court.
He said:
I do not believe that one should fight over things that
don't really matter. But what about things that do matter? It
is not comforting to think that the natural tendency inside
us is to settle for the bottom, or even the middle of the
stream.
This tendency, in large part, results from an overemphasis
on civility. None of us should be uncivil in our manner as we
debate issues of consequence. No matter how difficult it is,
good manners should be routine. However, in the effort to be
civil in conduct, many who know better actually dilute firmly
held views to avoid appearing ``judgmental.'' They curb their
tongues not only in form but also in substance. The
insistence on civility in the form of our debates has the
perverse effect of cannibalizing our principles, the very
essence of a civil society. That is why civility cannot be
the governing principle of citizenship or leadership.
By yielding to a false form of civility, we sometimes allow
our critics to intimidate us. As I have said, active citizens
are often subjected to truly vile attacks; they are branded
as mean-spirited, racist, Uncle Tom, homophobic, sexist, etc.
To this we often respond (if not succumb), so as not to be
constantly fighting, by trying to be tolerant and
nonjudgmental--i.e., we censor ourselves. This is not
civility. It is cowardice, or well-intentioned self-deception
at best.
I shall not quote further from this super article written by Mr.
Justice Clarence Thomas, but I do ask unanimous consent the article by
him be printed in the Record.
There being no objection, the article was ordered to be printed in
the Record, as follows:
[From the American Legion Magazine, July 2001]
Courage v. Civility
those who censor themselves put fear ahead of freedom
(By Clarence Thomas)
My beliefs about personal fortitude and the importance of
defending timeless principles of justice grew out of the
wonderful years I spent with my grandparents, the years I
have spent in Washington and my interest in world history--
especially the history of countries in which the rule of law
was surrendered to the rule of fear, such as during the rise
of Nazism in what was then one of the most educated and
cultured countries in Europe.
I have now been in Washington, D.C., for more than two
decades. When I first arrived here in 1979, I thought there
would be great debates about principles and policies in this
city.
I expected citizens to feel passionately about what was
happening in our country, to candidly and passionately debate
the policies that had been implemented and suggest new ones.
I was disabused of this heretical notion in December 1980,
when I was unwittingly candid with a young Washington Post
reporter. He fairly and thoroughly displayed my naive
openness in his op-ed about our discussion, in which I had
raised what I thought were legitimate objections to a number
of sacred policies, such as affirmative action, welfare,
school busing--policies I felt were not well serving their
intended beneficiaries. In my innocence, I was shocked at the
public reaction. I had never been called such names in my
entire life.
Why were these policies beyond question? What or who placed
them off limits? Would it not be useful for those who felt
strongly about these matters, and who wanted to solve the
same problems, to have a point of view and to be heard?
Sadly, in most forums of public dialogue in this country, the
answer is no.
It became clear in rather short order that on very
difficult issues, such as race, there was no real debate or
honest discussion. Those who raised questions that suggested
doubt about popular policies were subjected to intimidation.
Debate was not permitted. Orthodoxy was enforced.
Today, no one can honestly claim surprise at the venomous
attacks against those who take positions that are contrary to
the canon laid down by those who claim to shape opinions.
Such attacks have been standard fare for some time.
If you trim your sails, you appease those who lack the
honesty and decency to disagree on the merits but prefer to
engage in personal attacks. A good argument diluted to avoid
criticism is not nearly as good as the undiluted argument,
because we best arrive at truth through a process of honest
and vigorous debate. Arguments should not sneak around in
disguise, as if dissent were somehow sinister. One should not
be cowed by criticism.
In my humble opinion, those who come to engage in debates
of consequence, and who challenge accepted wisdom, should
expect to be treated badly. Nonetheless, they must stand
undaunted. That is required. And that should be expected, for
it is bravery that is required to secure freedom. * * * For
brutes, the most effective tactic is to intimidate an
opponent into the silence of self-censorship.
In September 1975, The Wall Street Journal published a book
review by Michael Novak of Thomas Sowell's book, ``Race and
Economics.'' The opening paragraph changed my life. It reads:
``Honesty on questions of race is rare in the United
States. So many and unrecognized have been the injustices
committed against blacks that no one wishes to be unkind, or
subject himself to intimidating charges. Hence, even simple
truths are commonly evaded.''
This insight applies with equal force to very many
conversations of consequence today. Who wants to be denounced
as a heartless monster? On important matters, crucial
matters, silence is enforced.
Even if one has a valid position, and is intellectually
honest, he has to anticipate nasty responses aimed at the
messenger rather than the argument. The objective is to limit
the range of the debate, the number of messengers and the
size of the audience. The aim is to pressure dissenters to
sanitize their message, so as to avoid being subjected to
hurtful ad hominem criticism. Who wants to be caluminated?
It's not worth the trouble.
But is it worth it? Just what is worth it, and what is not?
If one wants to be popular, it is counterproductive to
disagree with the majority. If one just wants to tread water
until the next vacation, it isn't worth the agony. If one
just wants to muddle through, it is not worth it. In my
office, a little sign reads: ``To avoid criticism, say
nothing, do nothing, be nothing.''
None of us really believes that the things we fear
discussing honestly these days are really trivial--and the
reaction of our critics shows that we are right. If our
dissents are so trivial, why are their reactions so intense?
If our ideas are trivial, why the headhunting? Like you, I do
not want to waste my time on the trivial. I certainly have no
desire to be browbeaten and intimidated for the trivial.
What makes it all worthwhile? What makes it worthwhile is
something greater than all of us. There are those things that
at one time we all accepted as more important than our
comfort or discomfort--if not our very lives: Duty, honor,
country! There was a time when all was to be set aside for
these. The plow was left idle, the hearth without fire, the
homestead abandoned.
To enter public life is to step outside our more confined,
comfortable sphere, and to face the broader, national sphere
of citizenship. What makes it all worthwhile is to devote
ourselves to the common good.
It goes without saying that we must participate in the
affairs of our country if we think they are important and
have an impact on our lives. But how are we to do that? In
what manner should we participate?
I do not believe that one should fight over things that
don't really matter. But what about things that do matter? It
is not comforting to think that the natural tendency inside
us is to settle for the bottom, or even the middle of the
stream.
This tendency, in large part, results from an overemphasis
on civility. None of us should be uncivil in our manner as we
debate issues of consequence. No matter how difficult it is,
good manners should be routine. However, in the effort to be
civil in conduct, many who know better actually dilute firmly
held views to avoid appearing ``judgmental.'' They curb their
tongues not only in form but also in substance. The
insistence on civility in the form of our debates has the
perverse effect of cannibalizing our principles, the very
essence of a civil society. That is why civility cannot be
the governing principle of citizenship or leadership.
By yielding to a false form of civility, we sometimes allow
our critics to intimidate us. As I have said, active citizens
are often subjected to truly vile attacks; they are branded
as mean-spirited, racist, Uncle Tom, homophobic, sexist, etc.
To this we often respond (if not succumb), so as not to be
constantly fighting, by trying to be tolerant and
[[Page S7326]]
nonjudgmental--i.e., we censor ourselves. This is not
civility. It is cowardice, or well-intentioned self-deception
at best.
The little-known story of Dimitar Peshev shows both the
power of self-deception and the explosive effect of telling
the truth and the dangers inherent in allowing the rule of
law and the truth to succumb to political movements of the
moment.
Peshev was the vice president of the Bulgarian Parliament
during World War II. He was a man like many--simple and
straightforward, not a great intellectual, not a military
hero--just a civil servant doing his job as best he could,
raising his family, struggling through a terrible moment in
European history.
Bulgaria was pretty lucky because it managed to stay out of
the fighting, even though the Nazis had placed the Bulgarian
government--and the king--under enormous pressure to enter
the war on the side of the Axis, or at a minimum to permit
the destruction of the Bulgarian Jews. Bulgaria had no
tradition of widespread anti-semitism, and the leaders of the
country were generally unwilling to turn over their own
citizens to certain death. But like all the other European
countries, Bulgaria moved toward the Holocaust in small
steps.
Peshev was one of many Bulgarian officials who heard rumors
of the new policy and constantly queried his ministers. They
lied to him, and for a time he believed their lies. Perhaps
the ministers somehow believed the lies themselves. But in
the final hours, a handful of citizens from Peshev's hometown
raced to Sofia to tell him the truth: that Jews were being
rounded up, that the rains were waiting.
According to the law, such actions were illegal. So Peshev
forced his way into the office of the interior minister,
demanding to know the truth. The minister repeated the
official line, but Peshev didn't believe him. He demanded
that the minister place a telephone call to the local
authorities and remind them of their legal obligations. This
brave act saved the lives of the Bulgarian Jews. Peshev then
circulated a letter to members of Parliament, condemning the
violation of the law and demanding that the government ensure
that no such thing take place.
According to his biographer, Peshev's words moved all those
``who until that moment had not imagined what could happen
but who now could not accept what they had discovered.'' He
had broken through the wall of self-deception and forced his
colleagues to face the truth.
There is no monument to this brave man. Quite the contrary,
the ministers were embarrassed and made him pay the price of
their wickedness. He was removed from the position of vice
president, publicly chastised for breaking ranks and
politically isolated.
But he had won nonetheless: The king henceforth found ways
to stall the Nazis; the leader of the Bulgarian Orthodox
Church publicly defended the country's Jews; and even the
most convinced anti-Semites in the Bulgarian government dared
not advocate active cooperation with the Third Reich.
After the war, when the communists took over Bulgaria, they
rewrote the wartime history to give the Communist Party
credit for saving the Jews. Peshev was sent to the Gulag, and
his story was only rediscovered after the collapse of the
Soviet Union.
Pope John Paul II has traveled the entire world challenging
tyrants and murderers of all sorts, speaking to millions of
people, bringing them a single, simple message: ``Be not
afraid.''
He preached this message to people living under communist
tyranny in Poland, in Czechoslovakia, in Nicaragua and in
China: ``Be not afraid.'' He preached it to Africans facing
death from marauding tribes and murderous disease: ``Be not
afraid.'' And he preached it to us, warning us how easy it is
to be trapped in a ``culture of death'' even in our
comfortable and luxurious country: ``Be not afraid.''
Those three little words hold the power to transform
individuals and change the world. They can supply the quiet
resolve and unvoiced courage necessary to endure the
inevitable intimidation.
Today we are not called upon to risk our lives against some
monstrous tyranny. America is not a barbarous country. Our
people are not oppressed, and we face no pressing
international threat to our way of life, such as the Soviet
Union once posed.
Though the war in which we are engaged is cultural, not
civil, it tests whether this ``nation: conceived in liberty .
. . can long endure.'' President Lincoln's words do endure:
``It is . . . for us [the living] to be here dedicated to the
great task remaining before us . . . that from these honored
dead we take increased devotion to the cause for which they
gave the last full measure of devotion . . . that we here
highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain .
. . that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of
freedom . . . and that government of the people . . . by the
people . . . for the people . . . shall not perish from the
earth.
The founders warned us that freedom requires constant
vigilance and repeated action. It is said that, when asked
what sort of government the founders had created. Benjamin
Franklin replied that they had given us ``a republic, if you
can keep it.'' Today, as in the past, we need a brave civic
virtue, not a timid civility, to keep our republic. Be not
afraid.
____________________