For my money, the best statement on what the commutation reveals came from Steve Benen:
George W. Bush was once asked, after presiding over the executions of over 152 Texans, about his reluctance to issue pardons and/or commute sentences. “I don't believe my role is to replace the verdict of a jury with my own,” Bush said, “unless there are new facts or evidence of which a jury was unaware.”
He neglected to add, “Or unless he's a politically important friend of mine.”
The president's decision to commute Scooter Libby's sentence is truly contemptuous. A former senior Bush administration official recently said, “It would show a deep disregard for the rule of law if [the president] was to do it right now, when there has been no remorse shown by a convicted felon and no time has been served.” That was in regard to a pardon, which may still be forthcoming, but the same principle applies.
Perhaps we should call this what it is: “amnesty.” In conservative circles, there's a standard approach to law and order: we need tougher sentences, inflexible mandatory-minimums, and harsh punishment for those found to have broken U.S. law. But if you help expose the identity of a covert CIA agent during a war, lie about it, and are convicted by a jury on multiple felony counts, those standards no longer apply.
It's impossible to overstate how grotesque this is. George W. Bush simply decided to supersede the judgment of the legal system on his friend and subordinate. If you're an inner city African-American wrongly convicted of a crime? You better pray. If you're an associate of the most powerful man in the country? Relax, it's all in hand. That George W. Bush decided to press forward with this move despite the message it would send -- that some are above the law, and that this administration spits on justice -- is remarkable evidence of just how little he values his office, and how disposable he judges this country's mores and ideals.
