The maiden speech is always a rite of passage for a newly elected parliamentarian. Witness Benjamin Disraeli, whose famous wit abandoned him as he stood up to give his first speech as a Member of Parliament. After stammering for a few minutes, his voice settled into a whisper. Shouted down, the future prime minister sat in humiliation, promising “though I sit down now, the time will come when you will hear me.”
Roland Burris had no such reluctance. His maiden speech was clear. His voice was strong.
He spoke for the confirmation of Eric Holder as Attorney General of the United States to “open the gates of justice once again.”
What eloquence. What precision. Yes, indeed, as Clinton’s Deputy Attorney General Mr. Holder did in fact “open the gates of justice” when he gave the White House “a neutral, leaning toward favorable” recommendation for the pardon of Marc Rich.
A pardon. Not for a man who had been wrongfully convicted. Not for a man who had been properly convicted, but whose lifetime of good works argued for a pardon.
No, Mr. Holder enabled a pardon for a fugitive, for a man who refused to stand trial at all. Who had fled to his chateau. A man accused of making oil deals with Iran during the hostage crisis. A man who was quite generous with his friends in high places.
(A thought experiment: Imagine if Alberto Gonzales had done such a thing. He would be the last prisoner in Guantanamo and the Oliver Stone movie about it would now be on two screens at your local multiplex.)
In short, Senator Burris wasted his maiden speech in defense of a supine, spineless apparatchik who in his last minutes in office did something that you cannot possibly imagine a Bobby Kennedy, a Griffin Bell, a Richard Thornburgh or Mr. Gonzales ever doing.
The evocation of “justice” here cheapens the language. Sit down Senator. You’ve said enough.