March 8, 2006
Oath
When one of our special congressional committees puts somebody on the hot seat to find out whether they know anything or whether they’re up to whatever their croneyhood has suddenly got them nominated for, there comes a time for oath-taking. It would seem to be a natural, this being a so-called Christian nation with notions about original sin and all. But for some reason we’ve recently taken to making exceptions.
Five oil company executives were called up a while back to talk about all the money they’re suddenly making off us — it’s called “windfall profits.” And recently, the US Attorney General was brought in to defend his administration’s sudden obsession with wiretapping along with some other irregularities like hiding executive responsibilities behind executive privileges.
For some reason, the Republicans on the committee stonewalled efforts to require any of these six worthies take oaths before they testified. I’m sure it occurred to somebody that this sets the oathless free either not to tell the truth — if they are of such a mind — ever so much as to tell it. It apparently did occur to the Democrats on the committee, but they were outnumbered to speak in what just might have been the interests of us, the people.
Frankly, and no offense meant, there’s just not a lot about an oil company exec or an administration appointee that makes anybody comfortable that they’ll tell the truth any more readily than the next fellow, that is, without some assurance there’ll be consequences if they don’t. Even Pontius Pilate wanted to know what is truth perhaps so he could take things from there if he had to, although I don’t recall his asking for an oath, either. But I’m sure you would agree that was another matter.
Strikes me as passing strange not asking for oaths when we’ve every right and need to in a time like this when secret-keeping is downright palpable and our leaders have become past masters at that and also at dodging the truth. Promises and “just trust us” have about worn themselves out, especially when the only thing we can trust anymore is that untrustworthiness is de rigueur and competence is not all that easy to come by.
I figure people who are so deep into secrets must have some reason not to talk. I usually did as a lad whenever my folks got suspicious and sternly reminded me over and again of the virtues of truth-telling. Obviously, and like most of us, I never could get away with anything like claiming some sort of exemption.
Trust, of course, is a neutral kind of word. It’s sort of based on experience. If a person lies a lot, you can trust that’s what’ll happen on most any occasion. Or if they don’t, well, you can trust that, too. Long familiarity will tell you more or less what to expect. Like my banker wrote me once when my loan repayments got overdue by a stretch, “Grace has expired, and the law now takes effect.” Any attempt to help him with that warped kind of theology proved to no avail. Come to think about it, even my oath wasn’t worth all that much.
[Since Uncle Sugar keeps on dragging his feet, visit Episcopal Relief and Development at http://www.er-d.org/ to make a donation to catastrophe relief or Episcopal Migration Ministries at emm@episcopalchurch.org to volunteer to assist displaced people with housing.]