In my time in the U.S. House of Representatives, one of the reasons many in our leadership weren’t especially fond of me is that, though I was in the leadership, I was not of the leadership. I never assimilated to the swamp. I would do un-swampy things, such as including the lines, “I work for you,” when writing to constituents in my formal correspondence.
I knew I was a public servant. When elected to leadership, I knew I was now the servant of other servants—that is, the other members of our Republican caucus. We were not the boss of the people. The people were the boss of us.
As a result, I never hid my loathing when the leadership or anyone else spoke of “managing” the American people. Such a condescending view by members of Congress about the sovereign American citizenry struck me as a complete inversion of the constitutionally delegated power to which they had been entrusted. In collusion with like-minded elitists—such as their staffers, pundits, consultants, and the corporate leftist media—it was a recipe for gaslighting the public by withholding or shading information they demanded and deserved to hear, so they could make up their own minds about how we should address the pressing issues of the day.
Such are the ways of the swamp, ever at war with America’s exceptional, revolutionary experiment in self-government.
Today, we are aware that U.S. Attorney John Durham’s “investigation of the investigators” continues regarding potential abuses of the police powers of the state for political purposes and any prospective criminal wrongdoing related to the 2016 election and the Russian collusion scam. Combined with Department of Justice Inspector General Michael Horowitz’s reports and the House Democrats’ risible debacle and distraction, the public anticipates a plethora of information requiring their consideration about their alleged public servants.
The swamp is conspiring otherwise.
If crimes have been committed, the fundamental question for the guilty will be how to prevent this information from becoming public. They will yank the ties that bind them to their pursuers—class, colleges, peers, and mutual federal service. If that fails, and it will, the guilty will prey upon the decency of innocent public servants by claiming the country can’t handle the truth of how governmental power had been abused for venal and nefarious aims.
“Parse the truth to spare the country,” the guilty will whisper like the snake into the ear of Eve.
If the guilty are shielded, our republic will be further wounded. As Alfred Lord Tennyson wrote in Idylls of the King: “Our one white lie sits like a little ghost here on the threshold of our enterprise.” Built upon a lie, our nation’s threshold to the future becomes a precipice into the abyss.
If throughout this process the government proffers lies of commission and omission to “manage” the citizenry, there will be but an ephemeral reprieve from the exacerbated wrath of the people. Amidst this communications revolution, whatever the designs of the guilty and their abettors, the truth will out—maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but without a doubt. Consequently, should the government try to shade, evade, or hide said truth, the faith of the sovereign people in their public servants will be gone.
Thus, for the best of intentions the road to Hell will be paved; the cruel irony being investigations commenced to restore public confidence in the federal government will have shattered both.
Therefore, it is imperative that Durham, Barr, President Trump, and all others involved in these investigations heed the sage advice from another time our nation faced such a crucible of legitimacy: “Why should there not be a patient confidence in the ultimate justice of the people? Is there any better or equal hope, in the world?”
With the information, release it all, warts and all; and trust in “the judgment of this great tribunal of the American people.”
We sovereign citizens demand and deserve no less from our public servants.