After the horrific shooting spree, the editorial board of the
New York Times offered a voice of reasoned circumspection:
“In the aftermath of this unforgivable attack, it will be important
to avoid drawing prejudicial conclusions…,” the paper
counseled.
Here’s how the sentence continued: “…from the fact that Major
Hasan is an American Muslim whose parents came from the Middle
East.”
That was in November 2009. The Times responded in
precisely the opposite fashion to the Tucson Safeway massacre 14
months later. What was once known as the paper of record egged on
its readers to draw invidious conclusions that were not only
prejudicial but contrary to known fact. In doing so, the
Times crossed a moral line and revealed itself to be a
fundamentally corrupt institution.
On Saturday, January 8, a gunman shot Representative Gabrielle
Giffords in the head at close range, gravely wounding the Arizona
Democrat. He then opened fire on the crowd that had gathered for a
“Congress on Your Corner” meet-and-greet, killing six, including a
federal judge and a 9-year-old girl.
By Monday, when the Times weighed in with an editorial,
it was clear that suspect Jared Loughner was mentally ill and had
no comprehensible political motive. The paper nonetheless seized on
the crime as an occasion for partisan attack:
It is facile and mistaken to attribute this particular madman’s
act directly to Republicans or Tea Party members. But it is
legitimate to hold Republicans and particularly their most virulent
supporters in the media responsible for the gale of anger that has
produced the vast majority of these threats, setting the nation on
edge. Many on the right have exploited the arguments of division,
reaping political power by demonizing immigrants, or welfare
recipients, or bureaucrats. They seem to have persuaded many
Americans that the government is not just misguided, but the enemy
of the people….
Now, having seen first hand the horror of political violence,
Arizona should lead the nation in quieting the voices of
intolerance, demanding an end to the temptations of bloodshed, and
imposing sensible controls on its instruments.
To describe the massacre as an act of “political violence” was,
quite simply, a lie. It was as if, two days after the Columbine
massacre, a conservative newspaper of the Times’s stature
had termed that atrocity an act of “educational violence” and used
it as an occasion to denounce teachers unions. Such an editorial
would be dishonest and indecent even if the arguments it made were
meritorious.
The New York Times used a madman’s act of wanton
violence as an excuse to instigate a witch hunt against those it
regarded as its domestic foes. “Instigate” is not too strong a
word. One of the first to point an accusatory finger across the
partisan aisle was the Times’s star columnist, Paul
Krugman. Less than two hours after the news of the shooting broke
on Saturday, he opined on the paper’s website: “We don’t have proof
yet that this was political, but the odds are that it was.” He went
on to explain why, in his mind, a centrist Democrat like Giffords
would be a suitable target for a Tea Party assassin.
This was speculative fantasy, grossly irresponsible but perhaps
forgivable had Krugman walked it back when the facts proved
contrary to his prejudices. He did not. His Monday column evinced
the same facts-be-damned attitude as the editorial did.
In that column, Krugman blamed the massacre on “eliminationist
rhetoric,” which he defined as “suggestions that those on the other
side of a debate must be removed from that debate by whatever means
necessary.” He rightly asserted that “there isn’t any place” for
such rhetoric. But he falsely claimed that it is “coming,
overwhelmingly, from the right.”
He provided exactly one example: Representative Michele
Bachmann, a Minnesota Republican, “urging constituents to be ‘armed
and dangerous.’ ” Those words, although ill chosen, turned out in
context to be far from eliminationist: Bachmann was urging her
constituents to be “armed” with information about an energy bill
that she opposed.
The evidence Krugman offered was insufficient to establish even
the existence of “eliminationist rhetoric” on the right. To be
sure, absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. Such rhetoric
does exist, and Krugman was right to deplore it. But his assertion
that it comes “overwhelmingly from the right” was at best willfully
ignorant.
To take one example: Just this past October, then-Representative
Paul Kanjorski, a Pennsylvania Democrat, told the
Times-Tribune of Scranton: “That [Rick] Scott down there
that’s running for governor of Florida. Instead of running for
governor of Florida, they ought to have him and shoot him. Put him
against the wall and shoot him.”
Kanjorski was defeated for reelection in November, but he turned
up on January 11, the day after Krugman’s “eliminationist rhetoric”
column, on the op-ed page of-you guessed it-the New York
Times, where he delivered a homily on civility: