WASHINGTON — “If you have nothing else you have your
principles,” Lady Thatcher told me when things were pretty tough
at The American Spectator in the late 1990s. Sharks were
circling the ship and there was blood in the water and I was
getting anxious. She was serene, having just flown back from
Beijing, but she was adamant. “You have your
principles.” They endure, and fortify you when things are
dire.
Doubtless, Conrad Black has had his principles too, and
they are not much different from mine, though he is Canadian. For
that matter, if you are reading this, they are not much different
from yours: the sanctity of the individual, individual liberty,
limited government, the rule of law. Now, because he has resisted
being put away in a dark place for six and a half years, the rule
of law is more secure. On June 24 all nine Supreme Court
justices sided with him. The “honest services” statute of a
1988 law that has been used ever since to prosecute
white collar crime is too vague and unconstitutional. The Court
has remanded Black’s conviction back to a lower court for
reconsideration. I hope it is just a matter of time before his
long ordeal is over.
He has lost his company, which provided an alternative to
the mainstream media around the English-speaking world. He lost
his fortune, and many friends. To the friends I would say, au
revoir. They were not much anyway, and besides he has Seth
Lipsky, Ira Stoll, Roger Hertog, and thousands of others who have
proved their mettle by sticking with him. And most emphatically
he has his principles.
Through the years he has fought for his freedom and the 27
months he has spent in prison I have never seen him waver in his
confidence in eventual vindication. Nor have I seen him lose
faith in the American rule of law or the Constitution. He got a
bad break, but he recognized that in the American system of
justice he still had a chance. Nine justices have spoken. He has
his chance. Now let us hope that the lower court does the decent
thing and lets him go. He has had one of the most brilliant
constitutional lawyers of his generation, Miguel Estrada, who
himself might have been on the Supreme Court were it not for the
partisan poisons out there. Estrada will be hustling to get him
out on bail while he awaits reconsideration.
I had the opportunity — it would be a stretch to call it a
pleasure — to visit him in prison at Coleman, Florida’s low
security prison. I was not the only one. Hertog has visited him
regularly, sometimes under very unpleasant circumstances. And the
excellent Lipsky put in an appearance. Lipsky was like me: “What
the hell am I doing here?” But it was the least we could do. We
were paying our respects to a great newspaperman, and he was full
of fight.
Prison is no place to be. If people talked more about it,
not so many people would be trifling with such places today.
Conrad did not belong there, but that was beside the point. He
wanted to talk about the things we always talked about in the
past, but first he directed me from the sun court. I thought I
could at least get some sun. He directed me from the heat and
saved my hide. He talked about elections, great people and great
issues from the present and the past. He speculated on the future
and talked about economics, and the sorry state of American
industrial output. He never dwelt on his own condition. That was
the great war of the lawyers.
Through the last few years he had time on his hands and
seeing an opportunity, I asked him to write for The American
Spectator. He is not only a gifted publisher but also a very
energetic student of history – and a noted biographer of Franklin
Roosevelt and Richard Nixon. He did a long essay on George W.
Bush, FDR, and the consequences of Bush’s reelection. Later he
wrote on Sean Wilentz’s book, The Rise of
American Democracy, Martin and Annelese Anderson’s
Reagan Secret War, and my own book on Clinton in
retirement, The Clinton Crack-Up. The review was
favorable but I would not say it glowed. Conrad is his own man.
Pick up our September issue (or read his piece online at
Spectator.org). He reviews Teddy Roosevelt’s visions of America.
He liked Teddy. They are two of a kind.
Now he sits in Coleman, Florida, awaiting a lower court’s
orders. He was tried on 13 counts and he beat nine of them. He
was convicted of three counts of fraud and one of obstruction of
justice — he had agreed to his former company’s request that he
empty his office. That was construed by our government as
obstruction. The hope here is that he will be cleared on all
counts.
