Delivered at the University of Notre Dame in 1995
Jeff, thank you very much for those kind words, very generous indeed.
I am grateful. Thank you as well to everyone in this audience who came
here this evening for this program. It's great to be back here at Notre
Dame. I was here almost two years ago at my son Matt's graduation in May
of 1993. And I received at that time an honorary degree from this great
institution. I've said it many times since and I will day it again tonight:
that was probably my proudest moment as a father and as one who has been
an admirer of this great institution for my entire life. The honorary
degree, and the citation that accompanied it, are among my most treasured
and prized possessions. It means a great deal to me, this institution
- its traditions, its value system - and to come back here again almost
two years later is a source of great joy and pride, to be with you this
evening.
My thanks to the Notre Dame family: to Father Malloy, for his many kindnesses
to me and to my family over the years; to Father Hesburgh, for his assistance
and his interest and friendship. I thank Father Tim Scully and Father
Bill Miscamble for their warm friendship and their strong support and
the encouragement they have extended to me and my family through some
difficult days during the course of that family history. To my classmate,
Professor Charles Rice, who is here this evening with Mrs. Rice. We were
classmates at Holy Cross about a hundred years ago, I guess. But it's
a delight to see him here and I have admired and been inspired by his
witness and his strong commitment to the cause of the unborn child as
well as other causes that are so central to the mission and the challenge
of America. My thanks to all the sponsoring organizations that Jeff mentioned,
and to Jeff and to all members of the student body - the leaders who are
here with us tonight - who were instrumental in making this evening possible.
To all of you, I am grateful to have this chance once again to meet with
you and talk about something I think is very important to our country.
I would like to begin with the mission statement of Notre Dame itself,
which says, and I quote: "The University is dedicated to the pursuit and
sharing of truth for its own sake." It continues, and I quote, "The aim
is to create a sense of human solidarity and concern for the common good
that will bear fruit as learning becomes service to justice." Let me read
that again. "The aim is to create a sense of human solidarity and concern
for the common good that will bear fruit as learning becomes service to
justice." I would like to explore tonight with you for a few moments how
the words of this mission statement find contemporary application in the
current debate across our country on the subject of human life.
But, first, some personal background about me that you may not know. I
come from a long line of Democrats. My father and grandfather, all the
Caseys, were Democrats as far back as the eye can see. Most of them worked
in the anthracite coal mines near Scranton, Pennsylvania. my great grandfather
came here in 1851. He came because, like to so many who came at that time
and since, America was the land of the second chance. we didn't turn immigrants
away in this country. But, often the welcome extended just beyond our
shores. And so, when the sights in the windows said "No Irish Need Apply,"
my grandfather and my father, and his brothers and sisters, and their
sons and daughters, joined the Democratic Party. They were true believers
... and they were powerless. They heard in the voice of the Democratic
Party the voice of their country, a voice at once both strong and compassionate.
Like so many of his time, my father lived a life of unromantic struggle.
At the age of ten, he started working in those mines. he was orphaned
at 15. It's such a familiar story. It's replicated in families throughout
this room here this evening. At 15, he began to support five brothers
and sisters while working his way through high school. He pressed on further,
studying law in New York City at Fordham University - without a college
degree, I might add. he passed the bar exam and became an attorney in
his late thirty's far behind his contemporaries.
His story was a story of quiet triumphs, character, and determination
rooted in a powerful sense of personal responsibility. Like so many Americans
of that day, and of this day, "he pulled himself up by his boot-straps,"
as they say. It's a story familiar to generations of Americans. It's an
American story. And there was a reason why such men and women gravitated
to the Democratic Party. I would put it very simply: the Party claimed
their allegiance because it understood their struggles. So, this was the
Party I grew up with. A party of optimistic people, because they knew
grief. A party of strong people, because they understood vulnerability.
It was a party dedicated to defending the weak; to helping the dispossessed;
to welcoming the stranger. Let the other parties look to those at the
plateaus and summits of life. We would look, in the words of Hubert Humphrey,
to those in the shadows of life; those in the twilight of life; and those
in the dawn of life.
If you survey the national scene today, a gnawing question keeps coming
up. And that question is this: "What has happened to that resolve, that
sense of shared purpose, those noble struggles?" I cannot claim to bring
any special expertise, any prophetic gifts to these cultural debates that
rage around us. But I do know this: A nation is no different from a person
in his need for fidelity to his calling. Fidelity to who he is, or she
is. When a person turns from his vocation in spite of himself, it brings
grief. No matter what comforts and distractions life offers, deep down
he will always be uneasy. He will know that he is not being true to himself.
And you know ... America was born with a calling. It was the noblest destiny
to which any society can be called. As George Weigel and other commentators
of the day have said so eloquently, our has been, in this country, the
story of inclusion, of extending rights and opportunities. Of raising
up the powerless; of widening the circle of the commonly protected. Of
acknowledging the duty, a sense of duty, for God and man - the common
good that the mission statement talks about.
This was our common faith - our civil religion, if you will. And wars
were fought in its name. We've always had political quarrels and disagreements.
But these debates were mostly centered on how to achieve these noble ends,
not on whether or not the ends were worthy in themselves. They were a
dialogue - these quarrels - with destiny, but not a betrayal of it. And
so, throughout our history - and we're talking tonight in part about our
history - throughout this history, people of all faiths, and people of
no faith, have joined in great moral causes. All this too is part of the
American story, the American experience that explains who we are from
a historic point of view. It shows a diversity of belief, but a unity
of moral purpose - a coming together, if you will, in conscience on these
issues.
We must ask ourselves, "Where today does conscience call us?" What is
the deepest source of the unease that's documented in survey after survey
across this country. It is deep, and it's basic, and it's powerful. I
believe that a great majority of people in America know the answer to
that question. The silent figure at the center of our great cultural debate
is the unborn child. For a generation now - over twenty years - we've
lived with abortion on demand. It was sold to America, this idea, as a
kind of a social cure, a resolution. Instead, it has left us wounded and
divided. We were promised it would broaden the circle of freedom. Instead,
it has narrowed the circle of humanity. We were told the whole matter
was settled and would soon pass from our minds. Twenty years later, it
tears at our souls. And so, it is for me the bitterest of ironies that
abortion on demand found refuge .. found a home - and it pains me to say
this - found a home in the National Democratic Party. My party, the party
of the weak, the party of the powerless.
You see, to me, protecting the unborn child follows naturally from everything
I know about my party and about my country. Nothing could be more foreign
to the American experience than legalized abortion. It is inconsistent
with our national character, with our national purpose, with all that
we've done, and with everything we hope to be.
You know, for eight years, I served as governor of Pennsylvania. All the
problems that America confronts today, health care, the level of taxation,
education, economic growth, crime, welfare, the environment - you name
it, a state like Pennsylvania - we see it all. All these things are important,
they're very important. They concern the day to day business of government.
They were my life for eight years. But, in the end, they are relative
problems. And they demand relative solutions. They are about how we shall
live as a people in America. Of course the economy is or urgent concern
to everyone, and properly so - the issue of how we make our livelihood,
how we pay our bills, how we invest for our future. But the need to protect
the unborn child is just as urgent as the economic concerns that confront
our country.
In the case of the unborn child we're dealing not just with our livelihoods,
but with lives... not just how comfortably we will live, but how comfortably
we will live with our consciences. Think about it, why do all parties
to this debate routinely call abortion a "social issue"? Because deep
down we know that the fate of one life touches us all. In a way, all the
talk about values misses the point. Because we are talking about a thing
of infinite value. Human life cannot be measured. It is the measure itself.
The value of everything else is weighed against it. The abortion debate
is not about how we shall live, but who shall live. And more than that,
it's about who we are.
The fundamental question posed is this: once a child has been conceived,
what is the proper response of a good society - of America at her best?
If pregnancy presents a challenge, do we as a society rise to the challenge
by dispensing with the child? And when a pregnancy comes at a difficult
time, what is the worthier response? Do we surround mother and child with
protection and love, or do we hold out to her the cold comfort of a trip
to an abortionist? Where is our true character as a nation to be seen
- let's ask ourselves this question: Where is our true character to be
seen, in an adoptive home, or in an abortion clinic? Who are we? Who are
we America? That question deserves an answer. And what woman is truly
empowered, I ask you, the woman who takes life, or the woman who gives
life?
You know, I've asked this question before, but I must ask it again. Since
when does America, the strongest, the most powerful country in the world,
abandon in despair an entire class of people - the most defenseless, innocent,
and vulnerable members of the human family? How can we justify with our
experience in this country - our tradition, our heritage, our history
- how can we justify writing off the unborn child in a country which prides
itself on leaving no one out and no one behind?
You see, I believe the American people know the answer to these questions.
They know that abortion is not worthy of a great nation. It's like few
other issues we've ever faced, when you think about it. Other causes demand
commitment, abortion demands complicity. Other causes survive by energy
and attention. The survival of the abortion industry - and it an industry
- depends upon avoidance and silence. Look at our history. All the great
causes have marched under proud banners and declaratory words that summon
people to action. But this cause goes under eerie, elusive euphemisms;
like "choice". They talk about the "procedure" and they talk about "termination".
Antiseptic words. Words stripped of their humanity. Politically correct
words that are, oh so careful not to be offensive. Other ages faced the
tragedy of abortion, but at least they recognized it as a tragedy. Ours
alone - and think about this - ours alone has dared to call it a "social
good". Ours alone has dared to call the victim a "thing", the act a "service",
the perpetrator a "provider". Ours alone has made abortion not only a
right, but a lucrative industry. And what decent society can live with
that?
But you know something, the pendulum is swinging in the opposite direction,
in the direction of protection of life. The Freedom of Choice Act, that
grand design that was to pass through the Congress with no problem, has
failed. More than eighty-three percent of the counties, twenty-one years
later, more than eighty-three percent of the counties in the United States
have no abortion clinics, because people don't want them there. Fewer
and fewer medical schools are teaching abortion. Most doctors themselves
want nothing to do with it. At the U.S. military bases overseas every
military doctor in Europe and Asia, to a person, refused to participate
in abortions. The signs are unmistakable, and they are signs, I think,
that point to a very hopeful future. As far as the future is concerned,
what do we do? We put our best hope, as we always have in America when
faced by challenges of this kind, in the basic goodness and the basic
common sense of the American people. No fine gloss on the issue, no hedging,
no slick finesse, can shake America's consensus of the heart. A consensus
that grows every time someone looks in a sonogram.
You know, when you think about it, you can't stifle this debate with a
piece of paper. No edict, no federal mandate will put to rest the grave
doubts of the American people. Legal abortion will never rest easy on
the conscience of America. It will continue to haunt the consciences of
men and women everywhere. The plain facts of biology, the profound appeals
of the heart, are far to unsettling ever to fade away.
When you think about it, you know, ours is still after all, the world's
only country with a birth certificate. A document of legitimacy explaining
exactly what our rights and duties are, and where our laws come from.
We were endowed with these rights, says that Declaration, by our Creator.
We were not only created, says the Declaration, but created equal. So
our rights, therefore, are by definition, in the words of the Declaration,
unalienable. All the laws protecting these rights, therefore, are not
to be tampered with by man. Alexander Hamilton had a word for this process,
and it's a beautiful formulation. Listen just for a moment. he said, and
I quote, "The sacred rights of mankind are not to be rummaged for among
old parchments or musty records. They are written as with a sunbeam in
the whole volume of human nature by the hand of Divinity itself and can
never be erased or obscured by mortal power."
You know, scholars still debate the relationship between our Constitution,
which makes no mention of the Creator, and the Declaration of Independence.
There is a school which says "the Constitution stands all by itself, the
Declaration was a compelling piece of rhetoric, but of no legal relevance."
The other school has long pointed to the view of Abraham Lincoln, who
called the ideals of the Declaration, "America's civil religion, the faith
that animates our Constitution." Well, I'm going to go out on a limb tonight
and side with Abraham Lincoln. With him, I believe the Constitution must
always be read with reference to the Declaration, which explains where
all our laws derived there legitimacy. The Constitution assers in essence
that no man is above the law and lays down all of the checks and balances
and procedures to see that this principle is observed. But, it is the
Declaration that reminds us of the even more American ideal that no one
is beneath the law, that we are all created equally in His image. The
Constitution is a vehicle, a great vehicle, for our national journey together.
But, the Declaration points the way to our common destination and says
that none shall be left behind. Neither document, in my judgement, would
have its full greatness without the other; and if you look at Lincoln's
Gettysburg Address, you'll see the union of those two powerful statements.
But today, as we look at our legal system - let's look at our legal system
for just a moment - we see that the principles of the Declaration, the
self-evident truths so essential to who we are as a people, are no longer
self-evident in many quarters.
I'd like to indulge in a little license here by relying on and referring
to a case, the one with which I am most familiar. It's called Planned
Parenthood of Southeastern Pennsylvania v. Casey . Speaking
of that case, George Weigel said recently something very important, I
think, to the understanding of our people. He said, and I quote, "In the
1992 decision to uphold what they call 'the central finding of Roe
v. Wade ,' had this to say about the meaning of freedom in America."
And he quoted the justices. They said, "at the heart of liberty" - now
listen to this - " at the heart of liberty is the right to define one's
own concept of existence, of meaning, of the universe, and of the mystery
of life." And Weigel continues, "despite the high-sounding words, one
would have to go back to the Dred Scott decision to
find a judicial pronouncement more ominous in tis implications for American
Democracy." And he continues, and I quote, "the American experiment is
no longer about working out the public implications of what Jefferson
called 'self-evident truths.' No, the goal of the American experiment
is the satisfaction of the unencumbered, autonomous, self-constituting,
imperial self."
In other words, the common good referred to in the mission statement does
not even enter into the equation when this process of self-definition
is going on in the minds of our people. The tradition that inspired this
university, which the university in turn vows to uphold and to communicate,
is a vast reservoir of these truths - these self-evident, unalienable
truths in our Declaration - reflected in that Declaration, which came
before the law and will always remain above it. I think it is a great
tragedy that in our laws over the last twenty-five years, we've seen not
just occasional deviations from that tradition, but a wholesale rejection
of its very premise.
I think that right now, around America, we're waking up to the falsity
of the promises of liberation held out by such fashionable causes as abortion
on demand and no-fault divorce. Harvard law professor Mary Ann Glendon
has effectively traced the radical nature of our social experiments in
these areas. Experiments that have placed us on the radical fringe of
Western society, on the basis of comparative law - America versus other
countries on these issues. Scholars like Lenore Weitzman and Judith Wallerstein
have traced the economic and psychological trauma that divorce has brought
to women, children, and families; the so called "feminization of poverty,"
juvenile crime, teenage suicide. These and a host of other evils are directly
related to the breakdown of the family.
Nowhere is the governing premise behind the false promises of liberation
expressed so eloquently, and so unfortunately, as in the plurality opinion
in the decision from which I just read, the Planned Parenthood
decision. That premise is the view of the human person as a
radically autonomous self, creating its own world and its own truths irrespective
of society, irrespective of other human beings and their rights. It's
easy to see that no view could be more corrosive of that indispensable
institution which is a building block of all civil society which, of course,
is the family.
We are finally waking up as a people to the truth which many, thank goodness,
never forgot in all those years; that society and families and people
just don't work that way. We are not autonomous selves creating our own
little worlds. We are members of a complex and diverse human society.
A community, if you will - large and small, public and private - in which
the decisions of one person affect all the others, in which the responsibilities,
once accepted, cannot be casually terminated. In retrospect, it seems
obvious to me that if a society wanted to forget these obvious truths,
it would be necessary to deny the binding force of the bonds of marriage
and parenthood. And consequently, it follows, it would be necessary to
have these institutions which have done so much damage to our society
- no-fault divorce and legal abortion - which strike so directly and with
such lethal force at those most crucial human bonds. So, in the wake of
the Planned Parenthood decision, we must ask ourselves
the central question: why the confusion in our legal system about the
most fundamental question any society can ask itself .. who is a person?
who shall be recognized and protected as a member of the human family?
We look to our legal system and we get no clear answer. Take the case
in Florida, recently, where a woman was charged with murder for ending
her pregnancy by shooting herself. Earlier this year, in a 6 to 1 decision,
the Supreme Court of California held that a person can be convicted of
homicide for causing the death of an unborn child that could have been
legally aborted if performed by a physician with the consent of the child's
mother. The majority opinion stated, and I quote, "the third party killing
of a fetus with malice aforethought is murder, as long as the state can
show that the fetus has progressed beyond the embryonic stage of seven
to eight weeks." So, it seems then with legal abortion we have finally,
explicitly - not by implication - but explicitly severed the right to
life from personhood. And so, the unalienable right to life proclaimed
by Jefferson is now, for some persons, alienable ... negotiable. And so,
we have nothing but chaos and confusion in a realm where principles of
justice and moral reasoning are given little weight. The challenge that
lies ahead for leaders is to bring the light of America's founding principles
and sound moral and legal reasoning to bear on these and many other questions.
Let me state at this point my conviction that abortion has not, and never
will, take a permanent place in our culture. In a country whose whole
reason for being is to affirm the goodness and the equality of all human
life, how could such a thing ever fit in? This, I think, explains why
other societies have pretty much accepted abortion with little argument.
But here, in this country - and it makes me proud of my country - here,
it tears at our soul. You see, other countries can accept it for the simple
reason that other countries are not America. Because we claim to be different.
We have a ... calling. We're coming back, I think - and I really mean
this - we're coming back to that calling. No other country began with
a promise on its sacred honor to love and protect all human life equally.
That's a pledge only one nation on earth is sworn to keep, and we know
it, the people of this country know it. and that's why the debate rages
on, on an issue that was supposedly settled and finished business, fifteen
times between 1973 and this very day.
Back to the mission statement of this university. Adherence to truth begins
with the realization that the message of respect for human life is not
just a religious message ... much less an exclusively Catholic or sectarian
message. It is all of these, and proudly so. It's a truth reflected not
just in the Catholic religion, but in most organized religions. It is
also a universal truth embraced by those of all faiths, and those of no
faith. Its pedigree reaches back to the founding principles of our nation.
It is the truth about mankind, according to Thomas Jefferson and Abraham
Lincoln. And more than that, it is a truth that has been a living part
of the American experience, a truth we have not only know in our hearts,
but practiced in our lives.
Prior to 1973 - just think about this for a minute - the laws of America
reflected an overwhelming pro-life consensus that children before birth
deserve the protection of the law. That consensus was a secular consensus.
Those laws were not written by clerics, or in monasteries, or by the great
organized religions of America. They were written by people who respected
the truth. And that secular, pro-life consensus was both popular and national.
And those two words are important. Popular because it came directly from
the people, and national because it was not sectional or regional. It
covered the entire country .. not unique to any one class or any region,
but embodied in the laws of virtually every state in our nation. Not unique
to our left or to the right, Democrats or Republicans, Liberals or conservatives,
it represented the mainstream of America. My friends, it still is the
mainstream of America, so don't be fooled.
The American people have not accepted abortion on demand. They've been
hammering away for twenty-one years, but they're hammering a square peg
into a round hole. It's like a bone in our throat. We can't swallow it.
We cannot assimilate it. We cannot become comfortable with it, because
it's fundamentally contrary to what we believe as Americans. It's in our
history. Every poll shows a vast and growing unease with the abortion
license and the industry that serves it. I believe a pro-life consensus
already exists in America. And it grows every time someone looks in a
sonogram.
But, you know, many of our fellow citizens do not know this. I urge you
tonight to tell them. If you will do this, you will be, in the words of
the mission statement of Notre Dame, dedicating yourselves to the pursuit
and sharing of truth, for its own sake, with the aim of creating a sense
of human solidarity and concern for the common good that will bear fruit
as learning becomes service to justice. Such a challenge is a high calling,
worthy of each of you, and worthy of this great university. Thank you.
