Of all the messages I have shared over my career, as a field reporter, from the anchor chair, and most recently through my platforms on social media and this Steady newsletter, this is among the most important. At least to me personally. I hope those of you who have followed and supported me help me share it widely. I hope those who have been my critics read it with an open mind. For what I wish to share is an answer to a question that has animated my life now for many years. It is a question that I ask myself daily in an effort to keep myself honest. It is a question that my longtime collaborator on these recent efforts — Elliot Kirschner — and I have discussed over hours of conversation and long text message chains. The question has a lot of complexity around it, but it can be boiled down to one word: Why? Why have I taken such a strong position in opposition to Donald Trump, the public officials and others who have supported him, and what they represent? Why do I spend so much time talking about and analyzing the political environment of the United States? Why am I so consistently focused on this story? I am not blind to the fact that there are people out there who, though they don't know me personally, have made judgements about my political beliefs and the fairness with which I have done my job. I often say, because I believe it, that I am not left wing, right wing, or chicken wing. I'm just another American who loves this country and is trying as best I can to do my job. I acknowledge I am flawed, as all humans are. And I have made my mistakes. But I can honestly say I have tried to follow a journalist credo I learned as a cub reporter more than 70 years ago — pull no punches, play no favorites, ask questions of those who need to be held accountable. Another part of this credo was that our job is to report and not to advocate. Our role in American democracy is to be a check on power, regardless of which political party is in power. Whatever beliefs we have on a particular policy position or candidate should have no bearing on how we report the facts. It is up to others to decide what to do with the news we share. I have always liked the quote from a character in an Oscar Wilde play who said, "The truth is rarely pure and never simple." It's a reminder that life is full of context and complexity. It's an important caution for journalists against painting the world with a brush of simplicity. We should hold ourselves as arbiters of truth, while recognizing we can only aspire to get as close to the truth as is humanly possible. And truths for one era can prove to be a distorted lens for viewing another. Take a long-held truth in newsrooms that journalists should cover political stories from a position of equivalence between the two major parties. But what if the truth of our current time strikes at the very bedrock notion of apolitical fairness? With the rise of Donald Trump, I came to the conclusion early that this man could pose a danger to the fundamental nature of the United States as a constitutional republic based on the principles of democracy. I desperately hoped that I was wrong, but I saw a man who stoked division, scapegoated, lied with reckless impunity, and had no regard for the norms by which our nation has functioned. Over the course of his run for the presidency, his time in office, and the wake of his defeat in the 2020 election, everything we have learned and witnessed further and more completely confirms his unfitness for office. It has only escalated the danger he poses to the safety and security of the nation. We have also seen that the pestilence he embodies is not limited to him. It has spread throughout the Republican Party, as evidenced by the number of people in office and running for office who have embraced his bile, his lies, and his authoritarian instincts. This isn't a matter of conjecture. These are the stated, public positions of the former president, his enablers, and those who pay fealty to him — which at this point represents the majority of Republican officeholders. This is the truth.
I don't think it is controversial to say any of this. Or it shouldn't be. There are many rank and file Republicans who see this truth and haven't been afraid to say it. This isn't about politics per se, as in a competition for votes and ideas around specific policies. And this isn't to suggest that Democrats are right on any particular issue, be it taxes, education, immigration, you name it. I continue to believe that people of good faith can disagree about remedies and causes for action. That is what a healthy democracy is all about. But there should be areas where there is no disagreement, regardless of political party. You can't disagree about whether a loser of a fair election has lost, or should summon up a violent mob to hold on to office. You can't disagree about whether a former president should be above the law. You can't disagree about whether corruption should go unpunished. You can't disagree about whether it's okay to lie. It gives me no joy to be in this position, to see the country and people I love in a place of danger. I have spent my life in journalism, and I see so many stories around the world worthy of our attention. But I don't think there is a bigger story than the current threat to American democracy. It weaves together so many of the threads of our national tapestry. It is about power and race and the rule of law and economic opportunity and the very notion of what freedom should be. I am about to enter my 92nd year as a citizen of these United States. As long as I have my health and my voice, I am going to use it to share what I see. If it means writing about this threat over and over and over again, so be it. If it fuels some people's misconceptions about me, so be it. If it shapes my reputation and how I am remembered, so be it. I have lived my life. I have earned my livelihood. If I am reluctant to speak, what example would that set for others who don't have my privilege? To my fellow journalists, I know this is difficult. We are in uncharted waters. The old rules for covering politics no longer apply. In the end, false equivalence is just another way of obscuring the truth from your readers and viewers. The truth is what it is. It is damning. It is dangerous. And it is the direct result of those who are undermining our democracy. Not the ones calling them out on it. —-
© 2022 Dan Rather |
Wednesday, September 21, 2022
Dan Rather: Why Am I Speaking Out?
Saturday, September 17, 2022
Dan Rather: A Shameful Stunt
It is easy to demonize the "other" — the one who looks different, speaks differently, or comes from somewhere else. Especially during periods of deep social, political, and economic anxiety, pounding one's chest about "us" and "them" and using fear as a rallying cry can whip populations into a fervor. It is clear that Republicans, facing tremendous blowback in the face of the Supreme Court's abortion ruling, falling gas prices, the specter of Donald Trump, and the backlash he provokes for many voters, have settled on immigration as a motivator to turn out their base in the upcoming midterm elections. The stunts by Republican politicians — specifically Texas Governor Greg Abbott and Florida Governor Ron DeSantis — of busing and flying migrants and asylum seekers to places like Washington, D.C. (including outside of the vice president's residence), New York City, and now Martha's Vineyard have all the toxic energy of a fraternity prank. This is deadly serious. And it may be effective politically. It has been the case many times before, both in this country and abroad. History is replete with political power built on vilifying foreigners and immigration. As much as they might not like to admit it, Democrats may worry about their vulnerability on this issue, especially in close elections. Fear can be a motivator to get people to the polls. The public rationale for what Republicans are doing can't be only to "own the libs," although that desire is clearly behind the glee with which the governors and their supporters justify their actions. They say they are pointing out rampant hypocrisy, that blue states should have to carry the burden of immigration. The truth is, of course, that blue states, and cities in particular, are full of immigrants, documented and undocumented. And many of these immigrants are thriving members of local communities. Furthermore, blue state tax revenue is a major source of federal government funds, which are then distributed across the nation, including to red states and in support of immigration infrastructure. You could imagine a reason it would make sense for migrants and asylum seekers to travel from the border to other parts of the country. But a good faith effort would include planning and resources. It would include giving people full and accurate information about where they would be going and some choice in their fate. These current stunts are nothing of this sort. They are driven by cruelty and lies. They are certainly not for the benefit of the immigrant or even the immigration system. They are about scoring political points on the backs of others. Can you imagine being put on a bus or a plane with your children — or even being a child yourself — and arriving at some street corner, maybe late at night, with no idea where you were or what would come next? Immigration is a complicated issue. It always has been. It stirs emotions deep and powerful. The movement of people across oceans, over lines on maps, and within nations is a fraught endeavor. It is often driven by desperation, coercion, bondage, and hope. Those in transit tend to be vulnerable for exploitation. One of the hallmarks of the human species is that we are incredibly mobile. From our origins (probably in Africa, say scientists) we spread out to almost every imaginable corner of the Earth — from the arctic tundra to equatorial rainforests, from the tops of mountains to remote islands. We invented all manner of conveyances to carry us over open seas, across continents, and even through the air. Horizons beckon us to go beyond them. Humans, however, are also territorial. We have claimed time and time again, around the world, and throughout history, that this land is "ours." We have divided the globe into discrete states. We have created borders, sometimes hundreds or thousands of miles long, that delineate divisions over who has the right to live on either side. Sometimes these boundaries follow geographic reasoning — rivers or mountains. Sometimes they are literally just random lines on the map. For all this human movement, however, we are also a species with a strong sense of home. We group ourselves in regions where we share language, culture, family, and friends. Some of us may be inveterate wanderers, but many would rather stay close to where we are most familiar and comfortable. But that changes when violence threatens us, when living conditions prove inhospitable, when our prospects for earning a livelihood and providing for our family are hopeless, when our freedoms are trampled. Then a primal survival mode kicks in. We would do anything to protect ourselves and our families. We would put our own health and security at risk in search of a better life. It was this very instinct that over the course of many centuries brought waves of immigrants to the United States. America, it is often said, is a land of immigrants. Most of us here had ancestors who attempted a similar journey to that of those now being used as pawns in political showmanship. Back in our family tree, someone made the decision that they needed to leave somewhere else and come here. For some of us, that decision was decades or centuries in the past. For some it was recent. Many in this country now are immigrants themselves. There are also those among us whose ancestors didn't choose to leave. They were ripped from their homes by force — chained, beaten, and raped — and taken to a new land where they were separated from their families and forced to live in bondage. Others still are the descendants of the original inhabitants of the Americas, whose lands were taken by new immigrants. Many of these Native peoples perished from the diseases brought by white settlers. Those who didn't were forced from their homes and pushed into far less hospitable lands. Of course, you won't hear any of this context from those sneering now with xenophobic fear-mongering. There is no nuance in the MAGA slogan. Heck, they want to ban the teaching of this very history in schools. The truth isn't comfortable, and it challenges their divisive narratives. For as long as America remains a beacon for those seeking a better life, we will have to find ways of creating a fair, equitable, safe, and humane system for immigration. What can be done? Recognize the incredible advantages immigrants have brought to this nation. Be driven by empathy. And keep our nation protected. We should not expect these balances to be easy. And that is all the more reason to debate the issue with seriousness instead of scapegoating, with a commitment to our noblest values rather than an appeal to our basest instincts. We would do well to remember those stirring lines from the Emma Lazarus poem "The New Colossus" that adorn the Statue of Liberty in New York Harbor:
We are talking about people here. Our fellow human beings. And there but for the grace of God go I. Note: If you are not already a subscriber to our Steady newsletter, please consider joining us. And we always appreciate you sharing our content with others and leaving your thoughts in the comments. Thanks for subscribing to Steady. This post is public, so please feel free to share it. © 2022 Dan Rather |
Sunday, September 11, 2022
Dan Rather: 9/11
9/11 21 years. We tend to mark major anniversaries. But why should this year be less important? It isn't. And yet I wonder: Is this still a day that stops us in our tracks? We will never forget where we were when we heard, when we saw, when we cried. But so much has passed between then and now. 9/11 changed our nation forever. But so too have events that followed. History marches in only one direction — forward — in lockstep with our lives. Still, I am drawn back. I know that it will be so for as long as I am here. That bright, sunny morning — a postcard of a New York day that turned hopelessly dark. I smell the smoke. I hear the screams. I see the faces of the perpetually missing in walls of photographs. I touch the void. I think of the mistakes that preceded 9/11. And the mistakes that followed. I think of our national goodwill and how it was squandered. I wonder at a unity that has dissipated to acrimony. I mourn for those who died that day. And those who perished in the wars that followed. One of which was a misguided war of choice. The folly of Iraq still haunts us. What if? What if? What if? The questions accumulate. We ask despite knowing there are no answers. Fate can be cruel. And on that day the cruelty left us all altered. I think especially of those who lost friends and loved ones. The personal emptiness they have had to face is greater than our collective grief. Let us never forget that. For the rest of us, we lost a sense of invulnerability. How could our mighty nation be thus attacked? Today the vulnerability of terrorism remains. But it is crowded with a long list of others. Our country is precarious. We feel exposed. At risk. And it is not only for us as individuals. Our national freedoms, Our constitutional rights, Our public health, and the very mechanisms of democratic governance are under threat. We yearn for stability knowing it will be ever elusive. But strength and resilience are possible. We saw that then. And we can see it now. For those of us who were lucky enough to emerge from the tragedy, steady we must be. Steady. Steady. Steady. To carry on the memory of those who perished into the challenges ahead. _______________ On the 10-year anniversary of 9/11, I recorded some remembrances of that day for a special program on my newsmagazine "Dan Rather Reports." I share a few selections here. The memories are as fresh now as they were then.   Note: If you are not already a subscriber to our Steady newsletter, please consider doing so. And we always appreciate you sharing our content with others and leaving your thoughts in the comments.
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Saturday, September 10, 2022
Dan Rather: Toddler In Chief
You don't have to listen to Donald Trump for very long to discern a worldview that is completely and utterly egocentric. He has gallivanted through a life made possible by his daddy's money (nevermind the shadows under which it was accumulated). He has exploited a business and social structure designed to cater to, indulge, and excuse men like him. He is driven only by quenching his basest desires. And over and over again, Donald Trump has gotten away with it — like a young child who has been given (and has taken) everything without ever being told "no." Now he is being indulged by an entire political party. And like a misbehaving toddler, his disruptive antics have spread to others. They mimic his temper tantrums. Chaos escalates. Except this is not a preschool classroom, it is a nation. Petulance is not measured in hoarded blocks and broken crayons but in the demise of our democratic order.
Trump sees a simplistic binary world where everyone is either there to serve his needs or they are the enemy. Material possessions are to be accumulated and used however he sees fit — according to the metric of personal benefit. The way our system of government aspires to work is that the law applies evenly to all citizens. Sadly, history has shown time and again how far from that reality we often are as a nation. But the principle of "equal justice under the law" is fundamental to the American ideal, and we as a people overwhelmingly believe in striving for it. Trump and his acolytes do not even pay lip service to it. There is no "my fellow citizens," no commonality. He expects to exist in an alternate universe. By his formulation, the law applies only to "thee" as in us, and never to "me," as in him. This mindset was destructive enough when it drove the decision-making in the Oval Office. Since Trump's defeat in the 2020 election, the danger in some ways has escalated. The truth is that the president of the United States is afforded many special privileges and powers. But they reside in the office and not the person. Donald Trump is no longer president. And yet the court ruling from a judge he appointed runs roughshod over this democratic principle. Trump's motives for hoarding classified documents at Mar-a-Lago are unknown. Recent reporting that they contained some of this nation's most sensitive secrets raises very disturbing ramifications. But regardless of what Trump was doing, one thing we can say for certain is he believes the rules don't apply to him.
And if you judge by his legions of apologists and lackeys, he is correct. They are happy to excuse his behavior or just look the other way. It's why people like Senator Marco Rubio are eager to blame federal law enforcement for what he deems the minor infraction of a private citizen keeping highly classified documents in an insecure location for who knows what motive. "I don't think a fight over the storage of documents is worthy of what they've done," he said recently. The storage of documents? Is that really what we're talking about? Of course not. And of course Rubio had a very different take when we were talking about Hillary Clinton for a far less serious infraction. We have seen some version of the same excuse each and every time Trump has blown past what had been the limits of accepted behavior. Because it's Trump, they say it's okay. Everything he does is okay. We saw it in the run-up to the 2016 election. We've seen it in the lies too numerous to count, the unstable actions, and the pernicious divisiveness. Heck, we saw it with two impeachment trials. It's happened over and over again. It's like a preschool teacher saying, in effect, "Oh that's just Donnie being Donnie." Except every preschool teacher or responsible parent I know understands you can't do that. Actions must have consequences if order, rules, and laws are to hold. The Department of Justice and other prosecutors can say, "No, you can't do that." Juries, including grand juries, can, too. And so can voters. Elections, after all, also have consequences. Note: If you are not already a subscriber to our Steady newsletter, please consider doing so. And we always appreciate you sharing our content with others and leaving your thoughts in the comments.
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