I feel a bit awkward pretending to do a book review of Gellman’s book, "Angler," but I find the version of Jim Comey’s story that climaxed in John Ashcroft’s hospital room incredibly moving. Even Bush comes off looking like a decent person – actually looking uncharacteristically like a President. Why he didn’t, at that point, say to Cheney and Addington, "enough," is beyond me. Like with the Enhanced Interrogation Techniques, the Unwarranted Domestic Surveillance Program involves multiple complex issues. One can hardly question Cheney and Addinton’s motives. A secret cell of al Qaeda operatives had brought down New York City’s prime real estate killing 3000+ Americans. Trying to prevent further attacks through any means was not just on the minds of Cheney and Addinton. All of us were thinking about it.
In both the Enhanced Interrogation Techniques and the Unwarranted Domestic Surveillance Program, there’s a secondary question of efficacy – "Did these programs work?" The preliminary answer is "No." But that really is a secondary consideration. One primary question is legal, "Was what they did legal? Even under their War Powers, was it legal?" Probably not by a long shot, no matter how much Addington Yoo stretched and rationalized. But even that doesn’t get at the heart of the matter. The memo from Addington Gonzales to the Justice Department after the fact is more to the point:
"One came in a combative memo to the Justice Department. It was signed "Alberto R. Gonzales," but the composition had all the familiar Addington tropes. Comey and his staff called it the "fuck-you memo." It rejected every point in the Thursday-night letter that Goldsmith and Philbin had brought Gonzales at home. Oddly out of sync with what Bush had told Mueller in person, the document reiterated the president’s sole authority to decide the law and reasserted the lawfulness of every element in the program. Any adjustments would come for strictly operational reasons, at the president’s own discretion. Comey read it in his fourth floor office, then looked up at his chief of staff. He summarized, "So, ‘You suck. You don’t matter. But by coincidence, as it happens, we’re going to make some changes.’" If this was stictly for the record, that was one thing. If the White House was backpedaling on Bush’s promise, quite another. Gonzales called Justice and left a message, practically announcing that the memo was not his. "Tell the DAG not to overreact," the message said. "We’re going to make the changes."
Gellman, Barton. Angler. p. 321.
In Gellman’s account, it’s clear that Bush knew nothing of the impending mass resignation coming his way until the 11th hour. Cheney and Addington hadn’t told him. Bush found out from Condi Rice, via a staffer that Comey had talked to. This Addington’s Memo makes things clear. Cheney and Addington were about winning, not governing. Their "rightness" transcended any other opinion or counsel. It was the point, "being right." Even in this rare situation where Bush had over-ruled them after they had behaved outrageously, Addington had to assert his "rightness."
Gellman doesn’t say this part. In the literature about people with Narcissistic Personality Disorders, there’s an observation made by many clinicians. While such people are usually unempathic with others, and discount any opinions of others, they generally have an "idol" – some idealized "other" who they count on and follow blindly. I suspect that in Cheney’s case, that person was David Addington — an arrogant, contemptuous, jerk. And that’s tragic, because David Addington is sick as a goat. Please observe:
The story elevates “the blind leading the blind” to an Adminstration-wide mantra — a routine way of setting the policy of the United States. This man, this very obnoxious man, was the “hero” adviser to Vice President, who was in turn the “hero” adviser to the President. Watching him makes my neck hurt…
[…] them — but Addington was more openly hostile, exuding contempt from every pore [I posted a couple of clips from that testimony last […]