Friday

WHAT I THINK....JOE SOBRAN

I guess I've known Ron Paul for a quarter of a
century now, and I don't remember how we met. My first
memory of him is a quiet dinner on Capitol Hill, during
the Reagan years. He told me with dry humor of being the
only member of Congress to vote against some bill Reagan
wanted passed. For Ron it was a matter of principle, and
he was under heavy pressure to change his vote.

What amused him was that the Democrats didn't mind
his voting against it; all the pressure came from his
fellow Republicans, professed conservatives, who were
embarrassed that anyone should actually stand up for
their avowed principles when it was unpopular to do so.

That was Ron Paul for you. Still is. The whole
country is getting to know him now, and the Republicans
still want to get rid of him. The party's hacks, led by
Newt Gingrich, have even tried in vain to destroy him in
his own Texas district.

They're right, in a way. He doesn't belong in a
party that has made "conservative" a synonym for
"destructive." George Will calls him a "useful
anachronism" because he actually believes, as literally
as circumstances permit, in the U.S. Constitution. In his
unassuming way, without priggery or histrionics, he
stands alone.

He may have become at last what he has always
deserved to be: the most respected member of the U.S.
Congress. He is also the only Republican candidate for
president who is truly what all the others pretend to be,
namely, a conservative. His career shows that a
patriotic, pacific conservatism isn't a paradox.

If they can't expel Ron Paul from the party, they
can at least deny him the nomination. The GOP
front-runner, Rudy Giuliani, who says he hates abortion
more than any other constitutional right (or words to
that effect), went into raptures of phony indignation
during the first "debate" when Paul said simply that the
9/11 attacks were a natural result of U.S. foreign
policy. The pundits applauded the demagogue, but millions
of viewers were thrilled to find one honest man on that
crowded stage. (By the way, Paul is a doctor who has
delivered thousands of babies and never killed one.)

Ron -- I'm very proud to call him my friend -- fares
well not only in comparison with the party's sorry
current candidates, but also with its legendary
conservative giants, Barry Goldwater and Ronald Reagan.
He lacks their charisma and of course Reagan's matchless
charm, but he excels them both in consistency, depth,
historical awareness, courage, and honor. Heaven grant
him some of Reagan's luck!

Which brings us to the big question: does Ron Paul
have a prayer? Well, he may have a prayer, but that's
about it. He doesn't have a billion dollars; delivering
babies, often free of charge, is not the way to amass a
staggering fortune. He has nothing to offer the special
and foreign interests who pour millions into Rudy's and
Hillary's coffers. Sorry, this isn't a Frank Capra movie.

But virtue -- honor -- is rare enough to be an
asset, especially when the two big parties don't have
much of it. If both offer pro-war, pro-abortion New York
liberals next year, there could be an urgent demand for a
third option, especially since Giuliani could smash
what's left of the Bush-riddled GOP coalition while
Hillary remains, well, Hillary.

What if Ron Paul runs for president on, say, the
Constitution Party ticket? Who knows? I can only attest
that to know him is to love him, and knowing him for many
years has only deepened the esteem I felt for him when we
were both much younger men. This is a man who strikes
deep chords in people's hearts.

Every attempt to portray him as an extremist, or
even eccentric, founders on his palpable probity and
wisdom. His words are the carefully measured words of one
given to meditation. Ron Paul is a man you listen closely
to.

The odds are heavily against his being elected
president next year. But if he is on the ballot in
November, the odds are far heavier against his
candidacy's being forgotten. He will say things worth
pondering long after the votes are cast.

Until now, the GOP has been able to contain Paul by
pretending he wasn't there. But the silent treatment can
no longer stifle this soft-spoken man. He has been proved
right too often.