One of the truly interesting things about American politics is the way key phrases are developed to describe a particular political point of view and then repeated endlessly as more and more people get involved.
A case in point is the ongoing debate over the Bush administration’s use of the National Security Agency for warrantless eavesdropping of international phone calls which involve suspected terrorists.
The New York Times, which first revealed the program weeks ago, said it involved perhaps “thousands” of instances of domestic eavesdropping. That allegation has since been discredited, but even today the precise scope of the classified program is unknown and so far no one has yet been able to document a case in which a specific American has been injured.
Civil libertarians, some law professors and numerous politicians – including former presidential candidate Al Gore – have announced they are “troubled” by the president’s willingness to “break the law” or “ignore the Constitution” or “trample on our civil liberties.”
This parade of worried speakers has prompted an analysis of the complaints and produced these not-very-scientific conclusions:
When someone (usually a Democrat) says he is “troubled” by the president’s conduct, it means he is actually delighted. There is nothing better, after all, especially in an election year, than the prospect of being able to repeatedly accuse the president of “ignoring the Constitution” or attempting to establish a monarchy headed by “King George.”
Saying “I am troubled” is another way of saying “I am uninformed.” Simply expressing concern is not the same as distributing information. The speaker who is troubled need not go on to say anything in particular. He need not even say precisely what troubles him. Being troubled is quite enough.
The presidential critics are also trying to demonstrate that they are more sensitive than others, that they care more deeply about civil liberties than, say, the average Republican. Their statements might as well read, “Because I am more sensitive than some, I am deeply troubled that President Bush has chosen to risk the civil liberties of all Americans.”
It is likewise noteworthy that the phrase “I am troubled” never leads to a personal confession, but always directs attention away from the speaker. One never hears, “I am troubled by my own lack of information and the fact that I have failed to read the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act or taken time to understand the legal or constitutional issues currently under discussion.” The immediate benefit of simply saying that one is troubled by another’s behavior is that attention is focused elsewhere and the burden is placed on the object of the concern to explain his or her behavior.
For all of these reasons, and others, the current debate over the eavesdropping hasn’t really divided the country into two warring camps, one of which is opposed to the program and one of which supports it. Instead, the public is divided into two camps, one of which is troubled by the program while the other is not. Few, if any, have called for outright suspension of the program.
So we are in the midst of a very strange period in American history dominated by a debate over a program or policy that has yet to be fully described. Even now, weeks after the initial news stories, most Americans still don’t know the details of what was done, what the law might have allowed or what authority the president does, or does not, have.
Nor is it known, for sure, which branch of government may have the final say. Congress thinks it has the power to decide but then so does the president. The smart money is betting the courts will have the last word.
If Americans are looking for a reason to worry, here’s one: The best time to be troubled about a policy is after its implications and effects have been fully examined and understood, not before.
Al Knight of Fairplay (alknight@mindspring.com) is a former member of The Post’s editorial-page staff. His columns appear on Wednesday.
