‘Mob hate’ over Libby

The myth that the Great American Left is characterized by its collective sense of mercy took a big beating after the commutation of Lewis “Scooter” Libby’s prison sentence. The left has been in a bloodthirsty rage — as unbecoming for so-called “enlightened liberals” as it is remarkable.

Those who regularly read this column know my bias on the Libby deal. He was a Beltway pawn in the wrong political place at the wrong political time. President Bush did exactly the right thing in preventing him from doing even one minute of prison time for a crime that wasn’t a crime.

Any further discussion of the merits of the Libby commutation is a feckless exercise for the political elite, who live to debate how many Libbys can dance on the head of a pin. The more interesting question, and one that defines who we are as a nation, is why in the world are gentle Democrats so agitated by the correction of this obvious injustice?

The best explanation I have seen comes from Democrat and former New York Mayor Ed Koch. He wrote:

“I support President Bush’s commutation of Scooter Libby’s prison sentence. …

“So why am I taking this step, which is sure to be criticized by many of my friends and supporters? It is because I believe in fairness. To remain silent because speaking out would not be popular is to invite punishment in the world to come.”

Koch then recounts the facts of the Libby injustice and asks:

“Why is there such an enormous furor, particularly in Democratic political circles, demanding that Libby go to prison? I believe it is the kind of mob rage that has regrettably dominated American politics. The anger that existed against FDR, Truman, Bill Clinton, Ronald Reagan and currently, the team of Bush and Cheney.

“That mob hate of Bush and Cheney for a host of reasons — the Iraq war, the two elections that elected and re-elected them, their tax policies, their attitudes and policies directed at Islamic terrorism and a dozen other issues. They know they can’t directly strike at Bush and Cheney, whose terms of office dwindle with each passing day. They are striking at Libby as their surrogate. If they could in their lust for blood and vengeance, they would perform an auto de fe and burn Libby at the stake.

“Some will respond, ‘A jury found him guilty. How can you question their collective judgment?’ Many of those people believe, as I do, that the jury that found O.J. Simpson not guilty was wrong and have no problem in questioning the verdict of that jury.

“Regrettably, the politics of hatred rules the day. In this atmosphere of hysteria and rage, we should remember that the demons of yesterday — FDR, Truman, Clinton and Reagan — are hailed by many of their former critics as political saints of today.”

Well said, Mayor Koch. If there is punishment in the world to come, you may indeed avoid it … but I’m afraid more than a few of your “compassionate and merciful” brethren on the Left will be headed for a little pain.

The Exbers

It was good to see Brady Exber do well (he finished in 41st place) in the U.S. Senior Open Golf Championship last weekend. As an amateur, he tied with Fuzzy Zoeller and Jerry Pate and beat a host of other golfing greats.

Brady’s been one of the best golfers in Nevada for several decades. I’ve known him for longer than we both care to remember. We’re about the same age and, over the years, we’ve hit the links at one event or another.

The fact that we have occupied the same time and relative space on the golf course, however, is all our games have in common. He hits the ball straight and long, almost always coming to rest on green grass. My game too often looks like a search and rescue mission in the desert. Finishing without heat exhaustion is par for me.

Thinking of Brady’s accomplishment reminds me of his dad, the late Las Vegas Club owner, casino pioneer and legend Mel Exber.

Years ago, when I foolishly aspired to play better golf, I loved this time of year because the early daylight allowed me to walk nine holes before work. Mel Exber also took pleasure playing early. We struck up an acquaintance and, until Mel’s health let him down, we met often in the quiet Las Vegas mornings to walk a few holes.

We were a compatible pair. He liked to talk; I liked to listen. He was a wealth of local lore. I often thought that if we could get Mel on the record he could fill the Review-Journal for a month with stories and background on the dawn of modern Las Vegas.

When he wasn’t talking about casinos and sports books, however, he talked about the Brooklyn and Los Angeles Dodgers baseball team. I particularly enjoyed those stories because as a young man I thought the best job in the world would be to work for the Dodgers, travel with the team and, if I were lucky, rub elbows with icon Dodger announcer Vin Scully.

Now, some 35 years later, I have come to understand that the “dream jobs” we covet in our youth are not always in the cards … and sometimes that’s a good thing. But don’t get me wrong, spending the afternoon chatting with Scully would still be an enormous pleasure.

Mel would have been proud of Brady’s solid performance at the Senior Open. But when it comes to accomplishments, Mel’s one of those handful of pioneer casino characters who deserves more ink in the history of Las Vegas.

Sherman Frederick is publisher of the Las Vegas Review-Journal and president of Stephens Media. Readers may write him at sfrederick@reviewjournal.com.