The lit­tle lady is back in town

The Washington Times Weekly - - Politics - BY WES­LEY PRU­DEN

The help­less lit­tle lady, who de­pends on a man to de­fend her honor, her ego and her perks, was thought to have been driven out of town by the fem­i­nists. But she’s back.

Pres­i­dent Obama, who demon­strated in the elec­tion just past that he’s still the tall, dark and hand­some prince of fem­i­nine fan­tasy, stepped up man­fully to de­fend the honor of Su­san E. Rice, the am­bas­sador to the United Nations who eagerly joined the spin­ning of the enor­mous fib that the ter­ror­ist at­tack on the U.S. Con­sulate in Beng­hazi was about a home­made video.

He didn’t say much about the specifics of the lie she told, but warned skep­tics of the ad­min­is­tra­tion’s cocka­mamie ex­cuse for the Libyan calamity to stay away from her. If cer­tain U.S. sen­a­tors want to go af­ter some­body, he told a press con­fer­ence (his first in eight months), “they should go af­ter me, and I’m happy to have that dis­cus­sion with them. But for them to go af­ter the U.N. am­bas­sador, who had noth­ing to do with Beng­hazi and was sim­ply mak­ing a pre­sen­ta­tion based on in­tel­li­gence that she had re­ceived, and to be­smirch her rep­u­ta­tion, is out­ra­geous.”

A gen­tle­man play­ing dragon-slayer would have sent his sec­onds to call on Sens. John McCain and Lind­sey Gra­ham to of­fer them their choice of pis­tol or sword, but that’s not the way a lady’s honor is avenged in Chicago. So he growled, in the way of a Bugsy or an Al, to “come get me.” And don’t wait un­til St. Valen­tine’s Day.

Such a pa­tron­iz­ing de­fense of Ms. Rice would, back in the day, elicit only snorts of scorn and re­sent­ment from the likes of Bella Abzug or Glo­ria Steinem. A fish rid­ing to the res­cue on Ms. Steinem’s bi­cy­cle could take care of a cou­ple of sen­a­tors in short or­der. But that was then, and we’ve got a new now.

At the other end of Penn­syl­va­nia Av­enue, Nancy Pelosi, just in from San Fran­cisco, the bas­tion of the manly arts, sounded like a lit­tle lady her­self. Mrs. Pelosi has yet to come to terms with the fact that she is merely a for­mer House speaker, and she had con­vened the Demo­cratic women’s cau­cus to lift their spir­its. Two more years of life in the cho­rus was not quite what Mrs. Pelosi promised them. She was not step­ping down as the leader of the Demo­cratic mi­nor­ity, as many of her col­leagues had expected.

She first wanted to cor­rect some­thing she had said ear­lier: “I said we did not have the ma­jor­ity but we have the gavel. Ex­cuse me, we don’t have the gavel. We have our own gavel. We have some­thing more im­por­tant. We have unity. We do not have the gavel, we do not have the ma­jor­ity. But we have unity.”

Hav­ing cleared that up, she took ques­tions. When Luke Russert of NBC News asked how she would re­spond to cer­tain of her col­leagues who say that at 72 she should step aside be­cause she’s too old, the lit­tle ladies of the cau­cus, flank­ing her on stage, hissed and booed.

“Let’s for a mo­ment honor [that] as a le­git­i­mate ques­tion,” Mrs. Pelosi told the in­quir­ing re­porter, “al­though it’s quite offensive that you don’t re­al­ize that, I guess.”

Poor pig­gish clod, he got it back­ward. He doesn’t know that 72 is the new 27, as any of­fended fem­i­nist could have told him, and all women are young and they’re all smart, clever, and beau­ti­ful be­sides. The ex-speaker, sum­mon­ing her in­ner cougar, ar­gued that “ev­ery­thing I have done in my al­most decade now of lead­er­ship is to elect younger and newer peo­ple to the Congress.”

But this was smoke­screen and sub­terfuge, all to dis­tract at­ten­tion from the scan­dal at hand, the ad­min­is­tra­tion’s bungling of the tragedy in Libya. Mr. McCain got it right, that Mr. Obama is guilty of ei­ther cover-up or in­com­pe­tence. In­stead of of­fer­ing to punch Mr. McCain and Mr. Gra­ham in the nose on be­half of Ms. Rice, the pres­i­dent could ex­plain why he sent her to the U.N. armed only with a lie or with “in­tel­li­gence” he knew was bo­gus.

The pres­i­dent’s na­tive elo­quence has got­ten him out of jams with ladies all his life, and he has not yet learned that the buck (and the bunk) stops with him. He has been en­cour­aged to think he is im­mune from re­al­ity by his Chicago pals, by his rich Hol­ly­wood friends and donors, by party hacks, and by the scrib­bler class, which wants only to ca­ress and cod­dle — and shut up any­one with a ques­tion. But re­al­ity is not a lady, unim­pressed by elec­tion re­turns, and ul­ti­mately de­mands a full ac­count­ing of swin­dle and de­ceit.

Wes­ley Pru­den is ed­i­tor emer­i­tus of The Wash­ing­ton Times.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from USA

© PressReader. All rights reserved.