Fred Thompson, humble country lobbyist.

The Republicans have decided that Fred Thompson is their man. I'm not sure how they arrived at this decision. Maybe they held a meeting at some secret mountaintop castle. Or perhaps there's some kind of GOP pheromone wafting through the air that most of us can't detect. (The latter theory might explain Chris Matthews's otherwise baffling on-air musing about Thompson: "Can you smell the English leather on this guy, the Aqua Velva, the sort of mature man's shaving cream, or whatever, you know, after he shaved? Do you smell that sort of--a little bit of cigar smoke?") Whatever it is, I'm convinced the decision has been made. The best evidence for this is the equanimity with which conservatives have accepted the news that Thompson once worked as an abortion-rights lobbyist. Milder revelations about Rudy Giuliani and Mitt Romney were met with howls of outrage. The news that Thompson actively lobbied to weaken abortion restrictions, on the other hand, has been met with a shrug. This free pass from conservatives is all the more remarkable given that it has had to hold firm through a series of unpersuasive explanations by Thompson's quasi-campaign. Phase One was straight denial. When the Los Angeles Times broke the abortion-lobbying story, Thompson's spokesman insisted, "Fred Thompson did not lobby for this group, period," and added, "There's no documents to prove it, there's no billing records, and Thompson says he has no recollection of it, says it didn't happen." The next day, Thompson proceeded to Phase Two: Redneck Zen QuasiDenial. "I'd just say the flies get bigger in the summertime," he declared. "I guess the flies are buzzing." Remarkably, this response seemed to work. Giuliani and Romney are probably kicking themselves that they didn't think to rebut straightforward factual allegations about their abortion records with some inscrutable pastoral aphorism. (Or does this only work for Southerners?) A couple of days later, Thompson moved to Phase Three: spin. Thompson began gently explaining to his supporters that representing unsavory clients is just a normal part of being a lawyer. Thompson did not admit that he actually had represented a pro-choice group, but the inference was hard to miss. And, sure enough, twelve days later, The New York Times produced the billing records his spokesman had insisted did not exist. This remains Thompson's current position. He's not denying he lobbied; he's just saying that, if he did, it doesn't mean he believed in what he was lobbying for. In a column he wrote for Powerline, one of the most widely read conservative blogs, Thompson waxed idealistic about the legal profession. "Every person, unpopular or not, is entitled to representation," he wrote, citing John Roberts: "That principle that you don't identify the lawyer with the particular views of the client, or the views that the lawyer advances on behalf of the client, is critical to the fair administration of justice." It's true that this is a well-known legal principle, though lawyers often stretch it too far. (Yes, every defendant needs a lawyer, but no, the proper functioning of the legal system doesn't require Alan Dershowitz to fly across the country to defend O.J. Simpson.) But, even if we accept the maximal version of this principle, it's no defense of Thompson's work. The National Family Planning and Reproductive Health Association (nfprha) didn't hire him as a lawyer, it hired him as a lobbyist, and, while there's a constitutional right to the former, it doesn't extend (thank goodness) to the latter. Thompson's job wasn't to defend family planners charged with breaking the law that prohibits federally funded clinics from offering abortion counseling. His job was to persuade the Bush administration to change the law. His value had nothing to do with his legal skills and everything to do with his being the rare prominent Republican willing to represent a pro-choice group. Indeed, it's a testament to just how poorly lobbyists are viewed that Thompson presenting himself as a lawyer is actually an improvement. Cast in just the right light--Thompson cites the legal careers of John Adams and Abraham Lincoln --it can almost look noble. Good ole Fred, humble country lawyer. Think Atticus Finch, not Jack Abramoff. Thompson also has to pretend he was just a lawyer for the nfprha because, once you recognize that he worked as a lobbyist, his defense falls apart. Maybe a lawyer can ignore the actions or views of a client, but a lobbyist certainly shouldn't. Lobbying is a form of political activism. It pays well, which gives it a certain mercenary cast--"The practice of law is a business as well as a profession. It's the way you support your family," Thompson has written. But other forms of political activism pay well, too. If Thompson had accepted a lucrative job as a consultant to the Clinton campaign or chairman of the Democratic National Committee, would conservatives assume he was just representing his client? Incredibly, Thompson's elementary conflation of lawyering and lobbying has satisfied nearly the entire conservative base. To the extent that conservatives are indignant, it's at the liberal media for reporting the story. "They seem to think that the story will somehow discredit Thompson among conservatives," fumed Powerline's John Hinderaker, "presumably because conservatives are too dumb to understand how law firms and the legal process work." Well, you said it, not me. Maybe the best explanation for conservatives' willingness to overlook Thompson's apostasy is that they're just tired of hearing about how every leading Republican contender either supports abortion rights or did in the not- too-distant past. "This is becoming so old," complained Tony Perkins of the Family Research Council. "They find somebody who has staked out a pro-life position, and the first thing they say is that he's supported a pro-abortion group." Of course, it's becoming so old only because all the leading GOP contenders have supported pro-abortion groups. But, where conservative ire was once directed at the apostates themselves, now it's directed at the liberal media. Six months ago, conservatives scoffed at Mitt Romney's strained explanations, but now they swallow Thompson's giant whoppers without complaint. I guess the lies get bigger in the summertime.

New hope forthe civically exhausted

Subscribe to The New Republic

Must-reads.5 days a week.

New hope for
the civically exhausted

Must-reads.
5 days a week.