What political
conservatives and on-the-ground Republicans must understand at this
point is that they are not breaking with the White House on
immigration. They are not resisting, fighting and thereby setting
down a historical marker--"At this point the break became final."
That's not what's happening. What conservatives and Republicans must
recognize is that the White House has broken with them. What
President Bush is doing, and has been doing for some time, is
sundering a great political coalition. This is sad, and it holds
implications not only for one political party but for the American
future.
The White House
doesn't need its traditional supporters anymore, because its
problems are way beyond being solved by the base. And the people in
the administration don't even much like the base. Desperate straits
have left them liberated, and they are acting out their disdain.
Leading Democrats often think their base is slightly mad but at
least their heart is in the right place. This White House thinks its
base is stupid and that its heart is in the wrong place.
For almost three
years, arguably longer, conservative Bush supporters have felt like
sufferers of battered wife syndrome. You don't like endless gushing
spending, the kind that assumes a high and unstoppable affluence
will always exist, and the tax receipts will always flow in? Too
bad! You don't like expanding governmental authority and power? Too
bad. You think the war was wrong or is wrong? Too bad.
But on
immigration it has changed from "Too bad" to "You're bad."
The president has
taken to suggesting that opponents of his immigration bill are
unpatriotic--they "don't want to do what's right for America." His
ally Sen. Lindsey Graham has said, "We're gonna tell the bigots to
shut up." On Fox last weekend he vowed to "push back." Homeland
Security Secretary Michael Chertoff suggested opponents would prefer
illegal immigrants be killed; Commerce Secretary Carlos Gutierrez
said those who oppose the bill want "mass deportation." Former Bush
speechwriter Michael Gerson said those who oppose the bill are
"anti-immigrant" and suggested they suffer from "rage" and "national
chauvinism."
Why would they
speak so insultingly, with such hostility, of opponents who are
concerned citizens? And often, though not exclusively, concerned
conservatives? It is odd, but it is of a piece with, or a variation
on, the "Too bad" governing style. And it is one that has, day by
day for at least the past three years, been tearing apart the
conservative movement.
I suspect the
White House and its allies have turned to name calling because
they're defensive, and they're defensive because they know they have
produced a big and indecipherable mess of a bill--one that is
literally bigger than the Bible, though as someone noted last week,
at least we actually had a few years to read the Bible. The White
House and its supporters seem to be marshalling not facts but only
sentiments, and self-aggrandizing ones at that. They make a call to
emotions--this is, always and on every issue, the administration's
default position--but not, I think, to seriously influence the
debate.
They are trying
to lay down markers for history. Having lost the support of most of
the country, they are looking to another horizon. The story they
would like written in the future is this: Faced with the
gathering forces of ethnocentric darkness, a hardy and heroic crew
stood firm and held high a candle in the wind. It will make a
good chapter. Would that it were true!
If they'd really
wanted to help, as opposed to braying about their own wonderfulness,
they would have created not one big bill but a series of smaller
bills, each of which would do one big clear thing, the first being
to close the border. Once that was done--actually and believably
done--the country could relax in the knowledge that the situation
was finally not day by day getting worse. They could feel some
confidence. And in that confidence real progress could begin.

The beginning of
my own sense of separation from the Bush administration came in
January 2005, when the president declared that it is now the policy
of the United States to eradicate tyranny in the world, and that the
survival of American liberty is dependent on the liberty of every
other nation. This was at once so utopian and so aggressive that it
shocked me. For others the beginning of distance might have been
Katrina and the incompetence it revealed, or the depth of the
mishandling and misjudgments of Iraq.
What
I came in time to believe is that the great shortcoming of this
White House, the great thing it is missing, is simple wisdom. Just
wisdom--a sense that they did not invent history, that this moment
is not all there is, that man has lived a long time and there are
things that are true of him, that maturity is not the same thing as
cowardice, that personal loyalty is not a good enough reason to put
anyone in charge of anything, that the way it works in politics is a
friend becomes a loyalist becomes a hack, and actually at this point
in history we don't need hacks.

One of the things
I have come to think the past few years is that the Bushes, father
and son, though different in many ways, are great wasters of
political inheritance. They throw it away as if they'd earned it and
could do with it what they liked. Bush senior inherited a vibrant
country and a party at peace with itself. He won the leadership of a
party that had finally, at great cost, by 1980, fought itself
through to unity and come together on shared principles. Mr. Bush
won in 1988 by saying he would govern as Reagan had. Yet he did not
understand he'd been elected to Reagan's third term. He thought he'd
been elected because they liked him. And so he raised taxes,
sundered a hard-won coalition, and found himself shocked to lose his
party the presidency, and for eight long and consequential years. He
had many virtues, but he wasted his inheritance.
Bush the younger
came forward, presented himself as a conservative, garnered all the
frustrated hopes of his party, turned them into victory, and not
nine months later was handed a historical trauma that left his
country rallied around him, lifting him, and his party bonded to
him. He was disciplined and often daring, but in time he sundered
the party that rallied to him, and broke his coalition into pieces.
He threw away his inheritance. I do not understand such squandering.
Now conservatives
and Republicans are going to have to win back their party. They are
going to have to break from those who have already broken from them.
This will require courage, serious thinking and an ability to do
what psychologists used to call letting go. This will be painful,
but it's time. It's more than time.
Ms. Noonan is a contributing editor of The
Wall Street Journal and author of "John Paul the Great: Remembering
a Spiritual Father" (Penguin, 2005), which you can order from the
OpinionJournal bookstore. Her column
appears Fridays on
OpinionJournal.com.