“It’s a shame for anybody who buys this bag of oats that the McCain camp is peddling,” Ramras said. His Democratic colleague Les Gara said, “Usually, the spin wins. We caught them on it here. But they’re still spinning. It doesn’t seem to matter, even when they’re confronted with the truth.”
Gara’s right. So the question is no longer merely, How did Sarah Palin abuse her authority? Or even, What did she know and when did she know it? The fundamental political question of the moment is whether the McCain camp will succeed in spinning Palin’s nasty home-state scandal into something just convoluted enough to get the fickle national media to give the Alaska governor a soft pass. If that happens, it will be because a crack campaign team, made up of veteran Bush/Cheney operatives and reporting directly to McCain campaign adviser Schmidt, stirred up sufficient confusion and partisan rancor to obscure what’s really happening in a small state that has never before been a prime battleground in a presidential race.
If spin wins, it will not just be the truth that takes a hit. As Troopergate and its fallout reveal, Sarah Palin is more than a hockey mom. She is a fiercely ambitious politician with a penchant for secrecy and a history of using positions of public trust to advance her personal and ideological agendas. It is no coincidence that Bush’s vice president has lavished praise on Palin—saying he “loved” her “superb” convention speech. Dick Cheney is often portrayed as the ultimate insider, just as Palin is packaged as the ultimate outsider. But Cheney recognizes in Palin someone who meets his warped standard for “an effective vice president.” That’s the inconvenient truth the McCain campaign is working overtime to hide until after November 4.
Examining Palin’s Record on Violence Against Women
Brentin Mock
Governor Sarah Palin of Alaska says that she’s a champion for women, professing that, as the Republican vice presidential nominee, she is the breakthrough that authenticates the 18 million cracks in the proverbial glass ceiling opened by Senator Hillary Clinton. But before Palin can claim any authenticity as a fighter for gender issues, she needs to address some important questions: With Alaska having the highest rates of rape, sexual assault, and domestic violence in the United States, according to statistics from the U.S. Department of Justice and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, what did Palin do as a mayor, and as governor, to remedy these problems? And what would she do as vice president to address gender-based violence as a national issue?
Her previous and current governing acts signal that the protection of women’s rights is not much of a priority for her. For all of Alaska’s dismal statistics on violence against women, Palin took steps that worked against the interests of vulnerable women—especially Native Alaskan women. As mayor, Palin refused to have the City of Wasilla cover the costs of the forensic kits for women who said they had been raped. As governor, Palin stood in the way of efforts to expand legal-service resources to victims of sexual assault, and fired Walt Monegan, one man who had almost unanimous respect from police, urban Alaskans, and Native Alaskans alike for his dedication to this issue.
As mayor of Wasilla from 1996 to 2000, Palin decided she would defy a bill from then-governor Tony Knowles that said local law enforcements should foot the bill for “rape kits”—the forensic analysis needed to trace the identity of attackers—when victims filed complaints or sought treatment in medical centers. The kits cost between $300 and $1,200, putting them out of the reach of low-income women and adding a financial weight to an already burdened accuser. But Mayor Palin thought instead that the kits were too much of a financial drain on the city government.
The Alaska that Palin inherited as governor had a rape rate 2.5 times the
Gara’s right. So the question is no longer merely, How did Sarah Palin abuse her authority? Or even, What did she know and when did she know it? The fundamental political question of the moment is whether the McCain camp will succeed in spinning Palin’s nasty home-state scandal into something just convoluted enough to get the fickle national media to give the Alaska governor a soft pass. If that happens, it will be because a crack campaign team, made up of veteran Bush/Cheney operatives and reporting directly to McCain campaign adviser Schmidt, stirred up sufficient confusion and partisan rancor to obscure what’s really happening in a small state that has never before been a prime battleground in a presidential race.
If spin wins, it will not just be the truth that takes a hit. As Troopergate and its fallout reveal, Sarah Palin is more than a hockey mom. She is a fiercely ambitious politician with a penchant for secrecy and a history of using positions of public trust to advance her personal and ideological agendas. It is no coincidence that Bush’s vice president has lavished praise on Palin—saying he “loved” her “superb” convention speech. Dick Cheney is often portrayed as the ultimate insider, just as Palin is packaged as the ultimate outsider. But Cheney recognizes in Palin someone who meets his warped standard for “an effective vice president.” That’s the inconvenient truth the McCain campaign is working overtime to hide until after November 4.
Examining Palin’s Record on Violence Against Women
Brentin Mock
Governor Sarah Palin of Alaska says that she’s a champion for women, professing that, as the Republican vice presidential nominee, she is the breakthrough that authenticates the 18 million cracks in the proverbial glass ceiling opened by Senator Hillary Clinton. But before Palin can claim any authenticity as a fighter for gender issues, she needs to address some important questions: With Alaska having the highest rates of rape, sexual assault, and domestic violence in the United States, according to statistics from the U.S. Department of Justice and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, what did Palin do as a mayor, and as governor, to remedy these problems? And what would she do as vice president to address gender-based violence as a national issue?
Her previous and current governing acts signal that the protection of women’s rights is not much of a priority for her. For all of Alaska’s dismal statistics on violence against women, Palin took steps that worked against the interests of vulnerable women—especially Native Alaskan women. As mayor, Palin refused to have the City of Wasilla cover the costs of the forensic kits for women who said they had been raped. As governor, Palin stood in the way of efforts to expand legal-service resources to victims of sexual assault, and fired Walt Monegan, one man who had almost unanimous respect from police, urban Alaskans, and Native Alaskans alike for his dedication to this issue.
As mayor of Wasilla from 1996 to 2000, Palin decided she would defy a bill from then-governor Tony Knowles that said local law enforcements should foot the bill for “rape kits”—the forensic analysis needed to trace the identity of attackers—when victims filed complaints or sought treatment in medical centers. The kits cost between $300 and $1,200, putting them out of the reach of low-income women and adding a financial weight to an already burdened accuser. But Mayor Palin thought instead that the kits were too much of a financial drain on the city government.
The Alaska that Palin inherited as governor had a rape rate 2.5 times the
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