In the presidential campaign of 1800, Thomas Jefferson was subjected to substantial abuse by his critics. He was called a “mean spirited, low lived fellow…sired by a mulatto father” and it was speculated that if he became president that “murder, robbery, rape, adultery and incest will be openly taught and practiced.”
That is but a short selection of what was said of our third president, and he was not known to have replied to such criticism, understanding that to do so would be to dignify it with a response. Jefferson also well understood the nature of politics and the passion with which people engage in it.
In 1860, Abraham Lincoln was described in a newspaper as a “grotesque baboon.” Lincoln ignored such commentary, except when he saw fit to make light of his own appearance with self deprecating remarks. He too understood the price of participation.
Throughout American history, presidents and other politicians have been forced to deal with an unrelenting barrage of criticism of their conduct, official and otherwise. They are mocked for their lack of personal charm (Richard Nixon) or their clumsiness (Gerald Ford). Politicians are teased for their deficiencies in spelling (Dan Quayle) or for wearing goofy outfits (Michael Dukakis). Often the criticism focuses on a public figure’s private life (Eisenhower, Kennedy, and the list goes on and on). And once in a while, the criticism even centers on the politician’s children.
It is this singularly unfair part of being a public figure that has set you off once again. After taking offense at remarks made by David Letterman last summer, now you’re insulted by an apparent reference to you on the television show Family Guy.
Really, Sarah? Is your epidermis that delicate?
Look, nobody is saying that this sort of behavior is fair or right. But if you’re going to become the President of the United States, then in addition to sending you greetings from my new home in Montreal, could I suggest that you toughen up a bit? You’ve already confessed to a sneaking admiration for Hillary Clinton; you’re going to need to look to her husband for tips on how to handle the big time. Let’s face it: given all the personal drama, the Palin family is the Clinton family in snowshoes. If you’re going to have teen pregnancies, and aborted shotgun weddings, almost relatives posing in Playgirl, then maybe you should give Bill a call and learn how he handled the media pounding that resulted from tawdry behavior and familial black sheep.
I know what you’re thinking, Sarah. “But Clinton brought all that onto himself with his own personal conduct. This is about my children!” I know, the liberal media has no respect for your son or daughter and their right to grow up outside the public eye. This kind of dastardly conduct reminds me of the time someone told a nasty joke about poor Chelsea Clinton at a fundraiser. Oh, wait, that was John McCain that did that.
Anyway, Sarah, you can’t have it both ways. When some right wing group offers you $100,000 and two first class plane tickets to come make a snarky speech attacking President Obama, you can’t say “You Betcha!” and then complain when someone comes after you. You can’t quit your job when the scrutiny is too much and then step back onto the public stage by working for Fox News and expect a free pass. You can’t expect two hundred years of fierce criticism in American politics to pass you by, especially when you partake in that tradition yourself.
After all, Sarah, you know how to solve this problem. Go back to Alaska and stay there. Nobody teases Mike Dukakis anymore, now that he is quietly teaching at Northeastern University. People tend to leave Dan Quayle alone. Even George Walker Bush is granted a modicum of peace and quiet because he has left the stage. If you can take the pounding, by all means, remain in public life. But if not, perhaps you should follow the advice of another oft criticized politician named Harry Truman: “If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.”
