After the president approved a candidate, the FBI ran extensive background investigations that often took six to eight weeks. Meanwhile, the Justice Department continued to evaluate the candidate’s writings or speeches while questioning friends and colleagues. It was not an easy process for a potential federal appointee to navigate.
Nominations for federal judges are evaluated by the powerful Senate Judiciary Committee. A longtime, albeit rather outdated, Senate tradition provides a home-state senator a way to quietly support or oppose a nomination through the long-recognized custom of returning a “blue slip.” If both home-state senators return a positive blue slip to the committee, the nominee is normally given a green light to proceed for a hearing. If both home-state senators return a negative blue slip, the nominee will probably not even get a hearing. Negotiations become complicated when the home-state senators disagree on their blue slips, although traditionally, deference is given to the state’s senior senator.
Prior to President Bush’s announcement of his first judicial appointments, I discovered how powerful those blue slips were. Senate Democrats in California and Maryland declined to return positive blue slips for several excellent potential judicial nominations, thus preventing them from even receiving a hearing before the Judiciary Committee.
Occasionally, home-state senators attempt to manipulate the process. When Republican senator Arlen Specter once brought forth recommendations for judges in his home state of Pennsylvania, one of whom had actively campaigned against Bush for president, I balked. I knew the president wanted conservative judges, and I reminded Specter of that. Specter was the ranking Republican member of the Senate Judiciary Committee, so his support was important in getting our judges confirmed. He boo-hooed about keeping his constituency happy, and I understood that, but after I talked with the president, we laid down some ground rules. I said to Specter, “Respectfully, we’ll work with you on this nomination, but don’t do this again. You can recommend someone who is less conservative; you can even suggest someone who is a Democrat, and that person will get a fair shake. But, sir, don’t ever again recommend someone who actively worked against the president. That just isn’t going to happen.” Specter grumbled but went away happy.
In addition to identifying potential federal judges, I was busy on numerous other fronts. I attended every meeting of our National Security principals committee, which included Vice President Cheney, Secretary of State Colin Powell, Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Hugh Shelton, CIA director George Tenet, Chief of Staff Andy Card, and, along with other White House staff, National Security Advisor Condoleezza Rice, who set each meeting’s agenda. When the principals met with the president, the group was known as the National Security Council. From the beginning of the Bush administration, discussions in those early-morning meetings covered concerns about Russia, China, North Korea, and the Middle East, including Israel and Iraq. Violations of the no-fly zone in Iraq put in place after Desert Storm were of special concern because they posed grave danger to our military, especially to our pilots patrolling the skies above Iraq. Discussions ranged from how to impose additional financial constraints on Iraq to how we might provide more humanitarian aid.
It was an exciting time that tested my talents and satisfied my desire to do a job of consequence.
On a breezy, cool, clear-sky morning in early April 2001, my friend was showing me around his elegant new home, replete with historic paintings and famous furniture. As we completed the tour of the upstairs, we stepped outside onto a beautiful balcony overlooking a panoramic view. We both stood silently, staring at the scene before us.
I broke the silence. “Well, what’s it like to be president?”
With his eyes twinkling in the bright sunlight, the forty-third president of the United States cocked his head and chuckled. “It’s really cool.”
We both laughed.
We returned to the sights in front of us—the perfectly manicured South Lawn of the White House below us, the Washington Monument in view straight ahead, and beyond that, the Jefferson Memorial. Standing on the Truman Balcony with President Bush, I was struck by a mix of emotions. On one hand, I was happy for my friend. This man I had known from Texas was now the most powerful person in the world. I was thrilled for him and proud that he had asked me to be there with him. In the history of America, nobody who looked like me or who had a Hispanic background or a name like Gonzales had ever been chosen to give daily legal advice to the president of the United States. I realized that whether I wanted to be or not, I was a role model to millions of Hispanics in America and around the world.
On the other hand, I felt an inexplicable, uncharacteristic twinge of sadness. I knew that with our new positions and responsibilities, these kind of moments were going to be rare for us.
When I worked with him in Texas, at the end of a busy day, I sometimes dropped by his office and we talked about a raft of subjects—everything from politics, to policy, to people, to baseball. Especially baseball. Then governor Bush knew that I was a fan of the game, particularly the Houston Astros, and as a former Major League Baseball team owner, he possessed all sorts of inside information and frequently told stories about some of my heroes of the diamond.
Now, however, looking out at the majesty before us, it seemed hard to imagine simply dropping by the Oval Office to talk baseball. Moreover, Andy Card set the standard early in the administration. “If you need to see the president, you get to see the president,” Andy said. “But when you simply want to see the president, you don’t get to see the president.”
Andy was not being overly protective. Time in the Oval Office is too precious to be wasted. Every minute counts.
So as President Bush and I gazed at the city before us, I knew that moments such as these were to be cherished, because they would be rare in the days ahead.
From the first announcement that I was going with Bush to Washington, there had been speculation about me going to the US Supreme Court. While the rumors were flattering, they were also embarrassing, and I was uncomfortable about them. I felt that I was part of a team, and I worried that the media attention I was receiving might cause jealousy among members of the staff. The press stories also painted a bull’s-eye on me for the president’s critics—and to my surprise, some of his supporters.
I had barely been in Washington a few months when I learned that the National Review was preparing a story about me that would question my conservative credentials. I talked to Tim Flanigan about it, and he indicated that he would encourage his friends within the conservative community to defend me. I appreciated Tim’s help, especially since I was not part of the Washington legal establishment, nor was I a member of the Federalist Society, an organization that included well-known conservative lawyers, judges, and legal thinkers. Although I was thrilled to be part of the Bush administration, I was surprised that I was booed at a speech in front of a conservative group when I said that the Supreme Court tells us what the Constitution means, which is why it is so important who is on the court. Welcome to Washington. It seemed the audience was suspicious of my conservative values and worried that President Bush might someday appoint me to the Supreme Court. It was a concern among conservatives that I would never overcome, despite my selection of strong Federalist Society staff lawyers and my support for conservative policies and judges who shared a conservative judicial philosophy.
If President Bush knew about the rude reception I had received, he didn’t let on. On April 9, 2001, he and I had lunch together in his private dining room located behind the Oval Office. While having lunch with the president of the United States is impressive, that day was most memorable to me because we had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches—a Bush favorite. There was nothing pretentious about this president.
During lunch, he asked me, “Have you ever ridden aboard Air Force One or Marine One?”
“No,” I said, “but I’m ready whenever you are.”
�
�I’ll be going back to Texas for Easter. Why don’t you ride along?”
He didn’t have to ask me twice.
The next morning, I arrived at the White House around 6:00 a.m. as I usually did and then slipped into the Oval Office prior to the senior staff meeting scheduled at 7:30 a.m. As one of the senior staff who could stop in to see the president without an appointment, I had learned that the best time to catch him was between 7:00 a.m. and 7:30 a.m. Usually, this was unscheduled time for him and he was fresh and attentive, sometimes having just read a portion of Scripture and praying. Occasionally Andy Card joined us, but frequently it was just the president and me in those quiet, early-morning conversations.
On this particular morning, I wanted to discuss federal executions with him, since one was scheduled in the weeks ahead. We reviewed our standards for clemency, just as we had in Texas. The president then expressed a refrain he would repeat often to me: “I’m concerned about the number of blacks and Hispanics in federal prison as compared to the number of whites.”
“Yes, sir. So am I.” Inequities in our criminal justice system would be an ongoing issue throughout Bush’s presidency, but one on which we made little progress.
We were already dealing with major issues when the atmosphere in the White House intensified during the first eleven days of April 2001, because of a confrontation with China. An American plane, a large, propeller-driven EP-3 carrying twenty-four crew members, had been conducting a routine reconnaissance mission in international airspace about seventy miles off China’s shores.2 The American plane was intercepted by two Chinese fighter jets, one of which struck one of the EP-3’s propellers, shearing off the plane’s nose cone and causing the American plane to plunge toward the ground. The Americans entered Chinese airspace and made an emergency landing on Hainan Island, desperately trying to destroy sensitive intelligence information before they hit the ground. The Chinese plane crashed as a result of their pilot’s miscalculation.
Chinese soldiers captured the American crew and interrogated them long into the night. China launched a false campaign in the media, contending that the US plane had rammed its fighter jet, causing the crash and death of its pilot. China held our airmen hostage and demanded an apology, even though they knew that their pilot had caused the incident.
Clearly, China was testing America’s new president. Bush recognized that the Chinese were not our friends, but he did not wish to alienate them either. As negotiations with China ensued, the National Security Council met repeatedly regarding this issue over the next ten days to determine how we would respond. Opinions varied. National Security Advisor Condi Rice and Secretary of State Colin Powell leaned toward apologizing to the Chinese to dispel the tension between the two countries and to get our airmen and plane back as quickly as possible. Secretary of Defense Don Rumsfeld did not favor apologizing because the “Chinese knew they were in the wrong.”3
President Bush refused to issue an apology for an incident that had not been our fault. Eventually, we put out a statement regretting the loss of life and emphasizing the need to prevent further incidents.4 Perhaps recognizing it was the best they were going to get from President Bush, the Chinese relented and released our airmen the morning of April 11, 2001.
I was in the Oval Office along with Condi, Dan Bartlett, Ari Fleischer, Karen Hughes, and Harriet Miers when we received word that the Chinese had backed down from their demands. “There will be no gloating,” the president said. “No victory dance.” His were not the actions of an arrogant man, nor were they the response of a president looking for an opportunity to apologize for the United States, especially when we were not at fault.
He was glad the incident had concluded peacefully without further loss of life. It would be more than a month, however, before we got our reconnaissance plane back, after the communists had studied it and learned all they could from it.
The day following the pilots’ release, after my assortment of scheduled meetings, an official White House driver transported me to the Pentagon to board Marine One, the president’s helicopter that would take us to Andrews Air Force Base to board Air Force One. Ordinarily, Marine One lands on the South Lawn of the White House, but the lawn was being prepared for President Bush’s first Easter egg roll. I had worn my cowboy boots for the trip home, and the president noticed them and nodded his approval. At 3:30 p.m., we took off for the short ride over to Andrews. “Look out the window,” the president said as he pointed out various monuments along the way. Washington is always a majestic sight, but even more so from the windows of Marine One.
We bounded out of the helicopter and up the stairway leading to the president’s plane, the president sharply saluting the marines standing at attention as we passed by. We quickly settled in, and at 4:00 p.m., Air Force One took off from Andrews and headed to Fort Hood, in Killeen, Texas, about a three-hour flight and a short sixty-mile drive to my home in Austin.
The plane was spacious and majestic, a worthy symbol of American prestige and power. The president encouraged me to look at his suite, which included a bedroom and an office. “What do you think of Air Force One?” he asked. I smiled at him and nodded my head. “It is a fitting plane for the president of the United States,” I replied. He laughed and went back to work.
The flight was relatively uneventful, and I was excited—I had not seen Becky and the boys for several months. We squeezed every moment out of the weekend and celebrated a wonderful Easter together as a family. Being reunited for a few days reminded me how much I missed my family and how I was looking forward to them joining me in Washington. All too soon, it was time for Becky and the boys to drive me back to Killeen.
I kissed my wife and sons good-bye, and at 4:35 p.m. Sunday afternoon, Air Force One roared down the runway, pointing us back toward the nation’s capital. On board, the president looked tanned, as though he’d been out in the warm Texas sunshine over the weekend, and he seemed rejuvenated—yet the mood on the return trip was rather subdued. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who missed Texas. I spent most of the flight studying the judiciary committee transcripts of the Clarence Thomas Supreme Court confirmation hearing from ten years earlier. I felt sure that we would soon be embroiled in confirmation hearings of our own, and I’d be right in the middle of all that, one way or another. I wanted to be prepared.
The media continued to report that I might be nominated in the case of a Supreme Court vacancy. Everyone knew that George W. Bush wanted to have a diverse court, and I had done more than a dozen interviews with reporters from the Washington Post, the National Journal, US News and World Report, the Los Angeles Times, and others. All had hinted that my name was in the mix. It was crazy; I’d been in Washington less than five months, but the more my name was in the media, the more talk there was about nominating a Hispanic to the Supreme Court. I continued to worry about the press attention, but eventually got more comfortable with it, believing that perhaps the anticipation that President Bush might make a historic pick would resonate with Hispanic voters and help Republicans in future elections.
During my service in the Bush administration, I was often asked to introduce the president at Cinco de Mayo events. Held in the Rose Garden or in the East Room, the ceremony usually featured mariachi performances and a Hispanic music artist, and then I introduced the president, who welcomed the guests. I was overwhelmed with pride in my Mexican American heritage and a sense of awe that here I was introducing the most powerful person in the world. The president usually spoke about immigration issues, but more so about inclusion, tolerance, and the importance of education as the key to all of our success in the world. He seemed to especially enjoy being with the Hispanic groups, and they related to him and his values.
On May 9, President Bush presented to the Senate his first group of nominees for the US Circuit Courts, a list that my team of lawyers and the DOJ lawyers had been working on for months. The nominees were a diverse group of first-rate legal minds, such that Democratic senator Patrick Leahy publicly
noted that he thought them impressive. Apparently that meant nothing. Getting the nominees confirmed by the Senate would prove a long, exasperating process in which Democrats stonewalled many nominations. Some of the nominees would never be confirmed.
Meanwhile, Becky and I closed on a home she had found in Vienna, Virginia, about twelve miles west of Washington. It was an older mid-century-era house, but Becky saw potential. “Just imagine if this room didn’t have foil wallpaper, and we painted the walls a creamy coffee color,” she’d say, showing me another paint sample. A few weeks later, the movers arrived, along with Becky’s dad, our sons, our dog, Sasha, and our parakeet, Turquoise, and we began a new adventure in our lives. Unfortunately, I wasn’t much help in the moving-in process, as I was busy at work dealing with the highly publicized execution of Timothy McVeigh.
Along with his accomplice Terry Nichols, McVeigh had callously murdered 168 people, including 19 children, in April 1995, when they bombed the Federal Building in Oklahoma City. McVeigh’s execution, scheduled for June 11, 2001, would be the first federal execution in forty years.
Four days prior to the execution date, I met with the president to discuss the details and any pending clemency requests. There was no question about McVeigh’s guilt, nor were there any new issues that had not been reviewed in the courts. The president saw no reason to delay justice. At 7:52 a.m. on June 11, I informed the Department of Justice that the president had reviewed the matter carefully and saw no basis for clemency; therefore they should proceed with the execution. Timothy McVeigh was pronounced dead at 8:14 a.m., and at 8:15 a.m., I informed the president. An ugly, heartrending chapter in American history came to a close.
It was an exciting time for Becky and me, yet also a stressful period in our marriage. For instance, the second day after Becky arrived, she was still unpacking boxes when I called her from the White House around one o’clock in the afternoon. “Please stop whatever you are doing, and get ready. We have to be at Vice President Cheney’s home at five o’clock for dinner.”
True Faith and Allegiance Page 13