1/10/01 3:55 p.m.
Bound and Gagged
The case of Chavez shows that silence is an enemy.

By NR’s John J. Miller & Ramesh Ponnuru

inda Chavez was the victim, first and foremost, of her own generosity: If she had not helped a battered woman in a crisis in the early 1990s, she would be moving toward confirmation as Secretary of Labor today. She was also the victim of a Bush transition team that broke a new land-speed record in chickening out of a winnable fight it found inconvenient.

But most of all, she was the victim of an archaic Senate rule. There’s a tradition that Cabinet nominees, as a courtesy, are supposed to talk to senators — and nobody else — during their confirmation process. There’s something wonderfully old-fashioned about this idea. The problem is that this rule deserves to be broken, because it’s actively hurting conservatives.

Nothing would have helped Chavez more than allowing her to go on camera and explain her side of the story just as it was breaking in the national media. She easily could have done the Sunday morning shows, and spoken to a print reporter or two. The feeding frenzy had not yet started, and this was a chance to define herself. Instead, others did the defining. The irony is that Chavez’s supporters initially were concerned that her enemies could do that by creating a caricature: Chavez as rabid hellion. Instead, she exited the scene looking human to a fault. She has been persecuted for an act of charity.

If there are TV cameras in the Senate chamber, in the Senate committee rooms, and in front of every left-wing interest group that wants to attack a Republican cabinet nominee — not to mention Senate Democrats, who don’t seem to be playing by the same rules — it only makes sense to let these same nominees fight back. It makes special sense in the case of people like Chavez, who are experienced and talented at public relations.

If that means violating a quaint courtesy, then it’s time to be discourteous.