Podium: A sacred honour that stirs men's souls

SENATORS, WE of the House do not come before you today lightly. And, if you will permit me, it is a disservice to the House to suggest that it has brought these articles of impeachment before you in a mean- spirited or irresponsible way. That is not true. We have brought these articles of impeachment because we are convinced, in conscience, that the President of the United States lied under oath; that the President committed perjury on several occasions before a federal grand jury.

We have brought these articles of impeachment because we are convinced, in conscience, that the President wilfully obstructed justice and thereby threatened the legal system he swore a solemn oath to protect and defend. These are not trivial matters. These are not partisan matters. These are matters of justice, the justice that each of you has taken a solemn oath to serve in this trial.

Senators, this trial is being watched around the world. Some of those watching, thinking themselves superior in their cynicism, wonder what it is all about. But others know. Political prisoners know that this is about the rule of law - the great alternative to arbitrary and unchecked state power.

The families of executed dissidents know that this is about the rule of law - the great alternative to the lethal abuse of power by the state. Those yearning for freedom know that this is about the rule of law - the hard-won structure by which men and women can live by their God-given dignity and secure their God-given rights in ways that serve the common good. If they know this, can we not know it? If, across the river in Arlington Cemetery, there are American heroes who died in defence of the rule of law, can we give less than the full measure of our devotion to that great cause?

I wish to read you a letter I recently received that expresses my feelings far better than my poor words: "Dear Chairman Hyde: My name is William Preston Summers. How are you doing? I am a third grader in room 504 at Chase Elementary School in Chicago. I am writing this letter because I have something to tell you. I have thought of a punishment for the President of the United states of America. The punishment should be that he should write a 100-word essay by hand. I have to write an essay when I lie. It is bad to lie because it just gets you in more trouble. I hate getting in trouble. It is just like the boy who cried wolf, and the wolf ate the boy. It is important to tell the truth. I like to tell the truth because it gets you in less trouble. If you do not tell the truth people do not believe you. It is important to believe the President because he is an important person. If you can not believe the President, who can you believe? If you have no one to believe in then how do you run your life? I do not believe the President tells the truth anymore right now. After he writes the essay and tells the truth, I will believe him again. William Summers."

Then there is a PS from his dad: "Dear Representative Hyde: I made my son William either write you a letter or an essay as a punishment for lying. Part of his defence for his lying was the President lied. He is still having difficulty understanding why the President can lie and not be punished. Bobby Summers."

Mr Chief Justice and Senators, on 6 June, 1994, it was the 50th anniversary of the Americans landing at Normandy. I went ashore at Normandy, walked up to the cemetery area, where as far as the eye could see there were white crosses, Stars of David. And the British had a bagpipe band scattered among the crucifixes, the crosses, playing Amazing Grace with that peaceful, mournful sound that only the bagpipe can make. If you could keep your eyes dry you were better than I. But I walked to one of these crosses marking a grave because I wanted to personalise the experience. I was looking for a name but there was no name. It said, "Here lies in Honoured Glory a Comrade in Arms Known but to God".

How do we keep faith with that comrade in arms? Well, go to the Vietnam Memorial on the National Mall and press your hands against a few of the 58,000 names carved into that wall, and ask yourself, How can we redeem the debt we owe all those who purchased our freedom with their lives? How do we keep faith with them?

I think I know. We work to make this country the kind of America they were willing to die for. That is an America where the idea of sacred honour still has the power to stir men's souls. My solitary - solitary - hope is that 100 years from today people will look back at what we have done and say, "They kept the faith."

I'm done.