Bearing Witness to Life and Personal Biography

As faithful Catholics with a vocation to the law and public life, our foremost responsibility is to bear witness to the sanctity and dignity of human life at every stage. For that reason, when we are discussing the current electoral choice, I cannot agree with my friend Tom Berg when he argues that “our discussions would generally be more productive if we stuck to proposed policies rather than using personal biographies [of candidates] (themselves OK) in a selective way.” Of course we should discuss and debate programs and policies. That is a central part of our call to engaging in and thinking about law and public life. But I believe that how a candidate bears personal witness to the sanctity of human life at every stage is more revealing and more important in evaluating the character of a leader than are programs recited in a political platform. Moreover, since by arguing that I have been using personal biographies in a “selective way,” Tom is actually objecting to my highlighting of those elements of a candidate’s personal biography that directly affirm (or contradict) the sanctity of unborn human life, I could not disagree more. We should give more, not less, attention to those stories and what they tell us about these men and women.

In evaluating the candidacies of those who ask for our trust in the highest offices of our nation, we first should listen to the message that he or she espouses, that is, what the candidate says and how clearly he or she says it about the right to life of the smallest and most vulnerable among us. Next, we should hear their personal stories as to how they bear witness for (or against) the sanctity of unborn human life. Promises of political programming are a distant third in importance, especially when those promises are not to extend protection to unborn human life but rather constitute indirect assurances that fewer lives will be stolen as a collateral consequence of doing something else politically.

First, let us consider the message: When one of our major presidential candidates was asked point-blank about the human rights of the newest members of our human family, he responded with an equally direct and unequivocal answer: “At the moment of conception. . . . And as President of the United States, I will be a pro life president and this presidency will have pro life policies. That’s my commitment. That’s my commitment to you.” When the other candidate was asked when "does a baby get human rights," he offered the languid excuse that human rights for infants was a difficult theological and scientific question and that providing a straight answer was “above my pay grade.” Thus, the message of one candidate publicly affirmed the right to life, while the message of the other candidate was abstract and evasive (until later when he affirmed his endorsement of a constitutional right to abortion on demand). Which message encourages our fellow citizens to take seriously and consider the fundamental claim for life for the unborn?

Second, let us consider the witness for unborn human life: When one of our presidential candidates was confronted by the witness of Mother Teresa who held up a tiny orphan baby whose life was in danger, he responded in a most personal way by bringing that child into his own family. When the other presidential candidate was confronted by eye-witness stories of babies surviving abortions and being left alone to slowly die in trash bins in a utility room, he was described by those witnesses as being unmoved and responding with a cold insistence on unqualified support for the right to abortion. (In saying that I made selective use of personal biography, Tom asks why I did not mention Barack Obama’s former work as a community organizer. But as this story reveals, being a political organizer says little about whether one is committed to protecting unborn—or even newly born—human life.) One candidate bore personal witness to the Culture of Life, while the other sadly could not shake his political allegiance to the abortion license. Should we not consider these personal stories as highly relevant to our choice of a leader? Which “personal biography” most clearly stakes a claim for the protection of unborn children in our society?

And now we have a new face on the national scene, a mother who refused to turn aside the small voice of life and who brought her baby into the world, knowing he would face special challenges. And that same mother now faces the additional challenge of learning that her teenage daughter has become pregnant, a story which is unfolding in manner that further affirms the sanctity of human life. (By contrast, we remember when the other party's presidential candidate addressed a similar but hypothetical scenario by saying he would not want his daughter “to be punished with a baby.”) Governor Sarah Palin’s “personal biography,” and that of others like her who are now receiving well-deserved attention, touches hearts, shapes our culture, and saves lives. The energy that has been brought to the pro-life movement with her selection speaks volumes. The excitement within the community of parents of Down's Syndrome children for this choice will have a powerful and long-lasting resonance. Such an example is worth far more in building a Culture of Life than political promises and government programs. One need only spend a little time surfing the internet these days to come across messages from many women, many of whom have been pro-choice, who are captivated by Sarah Palin’s story. By her “personal biography,” many eyes have been opened to the possibility of a life-affirming answer to the challenges posed by unexpected pregnancies or prenatal problems.

Finally, proposals for new or expanded government programs and spending that may enhance the quality of life and thereby discourage more people from making the decision to take the lives of the unborn are worthy subjects of our attention. After an election is over, the winners have taken office, and we must get on with the business of government, to seek a place of common ground with those of differing viewpoints, even on such a fundamental question as the right to life, is not only appropriate but commendable. Whether a particular plan is a good one and deserving of our support is a matter of prudential judgment, but an important matter of such judgment.

But should we not be uneasy when a promise of government spending is offered as a lure to persons committed to the dignity of unborn human life by a political candidate whose message, personal story, and platform contradict or are even hostile to unborn human life? Perhaps it's just me, but I worry that this looks like we who stand squarely for the right to life are being offered money, albeit money that would not go into our own pockets but instead be spent by government agencies for potentially worthwhile programs, to suppress a principle for political gain? What would be an acceptable political price for agreeing to set aside our principled distaste for a candidate’s avowed commitment to enshrining and expanding the license to abortion? $100 million in new government spending? $1 billion? $10 billion? At what level of promised government spending may we in good conscience subordinate our pro-life witness and cast our lot with a candidate who emphatically endorses a constitutional right (indeed a right that he promises to fund with government money) to rip unborn children from their mothers’ wombs, dismember their bodies, and flush them away as medical waste? Am I wrong to characterize the proposed bargain in such stark terms? Or am I simply being brutally and uncomfortably honest? And if we accept such a bargain, what message do we send? What would remain of our witness for the Culture of Life?

Greg Sisk