Composite Wisdom
Right
Television was banned
from the Lapius ménage. Only twice since I knew him had he
relented. The first time was during the senate hearings on Watergate, and
this, the second, during the House Judiciary Committee hearings and the subsequent
resignation. On each occasion Lapius rented a color video. “They
are too tempting to keep on hand,” he told me when I suggested that the ban
might somehow be related to his frugal nature.
However, during the
dramatic national trauma, Lapius was glued to the set and brooked no
interruption save his own, when he took the time to interpret the
obvious. “We are privileged to observe the constitutional system
functioning in living color,” he said. “Where else could this occur?” he
noted again and again in wonderment, then shushed me with a wave of his hand
when I tried to answer.
So through the long
hours we watched and listened to the legal arguments, the appraisals, the
rebuttals, the votes on the various articles of impeachment. We sat
silently through Mr. Nixon’s last official televised appearance before the
American people, and then his tearful farewell, where he manifested the
humility that might have avoided for him this terrible moment had it surfaced
at the beginning of Watergate.
We heard Gerry Ford’s
first speech, and watched as he grew in stature before our eyes, from ‘Gerry’
to Gerald Ford, President of the United States, sort of a playback in reverse
of President Nixon, becoming human again as he doffed the mantle of
presidential power to appear before us in the simple raiment of the ordinary
citizen.
“The transformations are
unbelievable,” Lapius mused, turning off the set when it was all over.
“Could we watch ‘Kojak’
since we have the set?” I asked.
“Absolutely not.
The ban is reinstated, Harry. The set is being returned in the
morning. What a week. Unbelievable.”
“Why so surprised?” I
asked. “There was no doubt in your mind that this would happen, was
there?”
“Nonetheless, Harry, it
is still a stunning event. After all, one can anticipate an execution,
but still be shocked to observe the head falling into the basket.
Watching one’s leader deposed in a methodical parliamentary manner, without
shouting or turmoil, with proper attention to legal scruples, is a majestic, albeit
sad event.”
“How do you feel about
it?”
“It had to be done,
Harry. The man undermined basic constitutional tenets. He lied to
his constituency, and finally troubled the conscience of the nation.”
“I’ll never understand
how he allowed himself to get into such a mess. His loyalty to his
cronies certainly exceeded his loyalty to his oath of office.”
“True,” said Lapius,
“and he brought down Teddy Kennedy with him. Kennedy, after all, was
guilty of something quite similar in the Kopechne case. The nation will
never vote him into the presidency now. We have had a tremendous lesson
in constitutional democracy.”
“Indeed we have.
How about letting me watch Kojak?”
Lapius ignored the
request. “There is a saying on Wall Street that ‘the little man is always
wrong’. Not so, Harry. The so called little man, or should I say
the composite wisdom of the little man, is always right. None of this
would have happened had not Nixon lost his support among the people….”
“He never admitted that
he had made a mistake.” I noted.
“And never will. I
suspect that he doesn’t understand quite what it was that he did that was
wrong. It is interesting that the Nixon haters blame him for Erlichman
and Halderman, but fail to credit him for Kissinger; and the Nixon partisans credit
him with Kissinger, and try to divorce him from Erlichman and the others.
The problem is that he must be held responsible for the good and the bad of his
administration.”
“I suspect,” Lapius
continued, “the secret of the paradox is that the ex-president was not able to
distinguish right from wrong in a moral sense. There are people like
that. Tone deaf to the ethical values of a society. As a result he
was able to function effectively and to everybody’s advantage in the international
arena but he flunked at home.”
“How come?”
“International relations
exist in a vacuum. They are amoral. There is no effective basic
morality common to all nations, and if there were, no effective force exists to
police them. Nixon could do a lot of free-wheeling in these areas,
untroubled, as he seems to be by the ordinary conscience. But the same
free-wheeling, expedient tactics at home cut across the national ethic.
He got into trouble because he was never tuned in to the fundamental
constitutional considerations which, as we have seen, is the glue that holds
this nation together. No one really cared about his sharp tax practices,
or even the political funds, not as a basis of impeachment, anyway. We
forgive human weakness, except when it attacks the basis on which the nation
was founded. As a matter of fact, we have just witnessed politics in its
finest hour, where the balance of forces between the legislative executive and
judicial branches of government really worked. Too bad we won’t be seeing
more of that.”
“You want more of that
kind of national nightmare?” I asked in astonishment.
“It is invigorating,”
Lapius said. “But certainly I don’t want it on that scale. But the
bustle of politics it’s healthy. Unfortunately the political arena is
being displaced by administrative power inflicted on us by Congress.
There is no give and take in administrative law. The only recourse is to
the courts. I wager that in the next score years there will be less
political than judicial turmoil. Once people realize that they can’t
untangle the intricate web of overlapping law that binds us dictatorially they
will take to the courts in great debates, and that will be a tragedy.”
“Why that more tragic
than this?”
“Because the Supreme
Court doesn’t allow its deliberations to be telecast,” Lapius said
mournfully. “Where are you going?” Lapius asked, as I started
towards the door.
“To the local Pub to watch Kojak.” I
said, waving goodbye.