A Case for Blinking: Sarah Palin and the Vice Presidency

When it comes to politics, I am a Republicrat – or if you prefer, a Democrican -- one of those pesky, non-committal Independents. And lest anyone accuse me of being a secret agent of the “Liberal Media,” I am writing solely from the position of a genuinely concerned and conflicted citizen.

It’s no secret that the entry of Sarah Palin to the Republican ticket has stirred up the race in unforeseen and powerful ways. I think Palin is gutsy and smart. It’s refreshing to have a counterpoint to the Hilary Clinton motif of a strong, politically savvy woman. But charisma, passion, and grit don’t necessarily make a person ready to be Vice-President, let alone President. Yes, Palin’s “inexperience” troubles me. But not as much her rhetoric. I find the following excerpt from her recent interview with Charlie Gibson particularly distressing. (http://abcnews.go.com/print?id=5782924)

GIBSON: Governor, let me start by asking you a question that I asked John McCain about you, and it is really the central question. Can you look the country in the eye and say "I have the experience and I have the ability to be not just vice president, but perhaps president of the United States of America?"

PALIN: I do, Charlie, and on January 20, when John McCain and I are sworn in, if we are so privileged to be elected to serve this country, will be ready. I'm ready.

GIBSON: And you didn't say to yourself, "Am I experienced enough? Am I ready? Do I know enough about international affairs? Do I -- will I feel comfortable enough on the national stage to do this?"

PALIN: I didn't hesitate, no.

GIBSON: Didn't that take some hubris?

PALIN: I -- I answered him yes because I have the confidence in that readiness and knowing that you can't blink, you have to be wired in a way of being so committed to the mission, the mission that we're on, reform of this country and victory in the war, you can't blink.
So I didn't blink then even when asked to run as his running mate.

Come now, Governor Palin. You didn’t blink? Perhaps you didn’t question your deep commitment to the country, but didn’t the call to serve cause you to quiver a tiny bit? Honestly – who is ready to step onto the world stage as leader of one of the most powerful and complex nations on earth at a time when the country (not to mention the world) is transitioning precariously into the 21st century? If this position didn’t cause you to shake in your boots, I’m worried about your judgment. Granted, humility is unappreciated in today’s political climate. It might not be politically expedient to admit apprehension. But how about a response something like this: “Of course, I wrestled with this decision. I carefully considered the implications on my family, my state, the nation, and the world. In the end, I made the decision to serve and feel confident in my ability.” Instead, you didn't even blink.

Such uber-confidence has not always been the hallmark of American politics. In his first inaugural address (http://www.nationalcenter.org/WashingtonFirstInaugural.html), George Washington expressed his trepidation this way:

The magnitude and difficulty of the trust to which the voice of my country called me, being sufficient to awaken in the wisest and most experienced of her citizens a distrustful scrutiny into his qualifications, could not but overwhelm with despondence one who (inheriting inferior endowments from nature and unpracticed in the duties of civil administration) ought to be peculiarly conscious of his own deficiencies.

Washington, who had a depth and breadth of experience unrivaled by most of his peers, was keenly aware of the weightiness and impossibility of the task set before him. His was a wisdom tempered by the refining fires of hard fought battles and complex negotiations. When congress wasn’t properly supporting his troops, he didn’t have the luxury of sweeping in with a grand brush of “reform” (ala fire your enemies and hire your friends). He knew that it took more than a “will to win” to achieve victory against a far superior army. He recognized that uniting diverse peoples, cultures, and economies into a fledgling nation would demand patience, diplomacy, and compromise. In short, he knew the Presidency would test the abilities and characters of even the best of men -- or women, for that matter.

A fundamental facet of wisdom and good judgment is knowing what you don’t know, having at least a sense of the magnitude of the task before you. So far, I don’t see this characteristic in Sarah Palin. And that, my friends, is causing me to blink before I vote.