A Historian Remembers Her Father--And What United Them
The child of immigrants, he passionately loved this country, its Constitution and its rule of law. When I was a little girl, he took me to the U.S. Supreme Court and there, in that awesome chamber, he told me that the most important question a judge should ask is: What's fair?
I never forgot that simple question.
Later, in the 1960s, he wondered where he'd gone wrong in raising me. By the time he voted for Barry Goldwater in 1964, I had already worked in the civil rights movement and marched against the war in Vietnam.
What did he expect? He had taught me to worship the ideals he cherished. So I was outraged by injustice and by the deception practiced by political leaders. Though we vehemently disagreed about the Vietnam War, I thought he'd done a fine job teaching me to respect our democratic traditions.
His own disillusionment came a few years later. He had voted for Richard Nixon and then Watergate shattered his political faith. After that, he never voted again.
That's when our political views grew closer. He'd call from across the country to express his outrage at the Iran-Contra scandal. He'd write and tell me that the United States had no right to ignore the World Court's decisions. "No one is above the law, not even this this country."
Now, 10 years after his death, I can still imagine what he'd be thinking and saying today. He'd sharply criticize the U.S. Supreme Court for selecting a president; he'd excoriate President Bush for rejecting the International Criminal Court.
He would be especially outraged that prisoners are languishing in a lawless netherworld at a naval base at Guantanamo Bay in Cuba. "No right to a lawyer? No right to hear charges? And now they're going to hold secret military tribunals? This is not the country I loved."
He would definitely attack the U.S. Patriot Act. "Libraries have to tell the government what you read? Wiretaps on citizens without judicial review? And now this Ashcroft wants to extend his powers? This is why I hated communism. Doesn't this man know about the Bill of Rights?"
"And putting John Poindexter in charge of this Pentagon spying machine? My God! The man's criminal conviction was only overturned on a technicality!
"These people aren't real conservatives -- they don't give a damn about the law or democracy."
As was his custom, he'd get pretty worked up. "Giving government funds to religious institutions? What ever happened to the separation of church and state? Why are people letting this government get away with this?"
I would remind him of the Sept. 11 attacks, the al Qaeda terrorist network, and how the government has successfully manipulated and deepened the public's fears.
But I know how he'd respond: "Even Roosevelt -- and you know how much I disliked him -- tried to get people to overcome their fears. What kind of a president is this?"
"The Cold War ends, we defeat totalitarianism, and this is what we get? What about our civil liberties, our civil rights? What's the matter with Congress? Why aren't they doing anything to stop this? You've got a lot to do. . . ."
And his words, not for the last time, would remind me where I got this strange notion that all of us -- whatever our political loyalties -- are responsible for the fate of our democracy.
This article was first published by the San Francisco Chronicle and is reprinted with permission of the author.