“Will No One Rid Me Of Hillary?”
If Trump was joking about getting help from the Russians that time he explicitly asked for their help, is he to blame if they really did decide to help him?
In the year 1170AD, Henry Plantagenet, popularly known as King Henry II of England, had some complaints. Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, the seniormost clergyman in England, had excommunicated the Archbishop of York, one of the king’s major political allies.
Precisely what was said remains in dispute. The most common rendering of the quote is “Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest?” This version is a corruption of several longer quotes mixed with “Will no one rid me of this meddlesome priest?”, which, in turn, comes from a 1964 film version of the 1959 play Becket, by Jean Anouilh, which originally put it, “Will no one rid me of him? A priest! A priest who jeers at me and does me injury.” Other versions include “ What miserable drones and traitors have I nurtured and promoted in my household who let their lord be treated with such shameful contempt by a low-born clerk!” and various paraphrases that do not exactly line up with any of the above, but more or less express the same sentiments.
What happened after this scene is not in dispute.
Four men loyal to King Henry left for Canterbury to confront Becket. When they faced him, they demanded that Becket reverse the excommunication of the Archbishop of York. Becket refused. They tried to abduct him, perhaps intending to force him to face the king. Becket resisted.
So they murdered him with their swords.
Who was at fault? The public wanted to know. No one, not even King Henry’s detractors believed the king had asked for Becket’s murder. However, the four assassins, who included several knights and a lord, all did. Specifically, they thought they were understanding a sort of coded request from the king, one which if ignored, would result in them being accused of siding with Becket. This line of logic was entirely reasonable.
Kings make lots of requests without making requests, after all. If a king yawns, servants make his bed ready. If a king’s stomach rumbles, his servants get to work preparing food. If a king says he thinks the view from his bedroom could be improved, the finest landscape architects are hired to improve it. Thus, kings must be careful about the words they use, lest they accidentally ask for something they don’t want. This is the price of power.
It is unlikely King Henry really wanted Becket murdered. The result was Thomas Becket being named a saint, and Henry II going down in history as a particularly hated king. Still, he issued an order because he ran his mouth, at least in the eyes of the only authority over him, the Pope.
Pope Alexander III heard the story. As the ultimate authority in Christendom, he knew well the power of words. Even though the Church had the Papal Army, it was nothing like the worldly power commanded by the monarchs of Europe. The Pope’s main power was the power of words. He saw a king who, through emotional incontinence or deliberate subterfuge, ordered the murder of a political opponent and member of the clergy.
Pope Alexander ordered that King Henry II not be allowed to attend mass until he had done penance for having ordered the murder. King Henry was as guilty of suborning murder as a king could be. He was held as accountable as a king could be. Essentially, King Henry II was found guilty of ordering a hit, like a mob boss.
Why does any of this matter today? Employees and colleagues of President Trump have indicated that President Trump communicates in a manner similar to that of King Henry II, implying action with a wink, and denying responsibility after the fact, stamping his feet and insisting that he ordered nothing. Specifically, they allege that he arranged a conspiratorial relationship with Russia in order to hurt his electoral opponents, and win, that he threatened and/or payed off anyone with dirt on him, and that he cheated on his taxes, loan applications, and business partners, not to mention wives, all in a manner consistent with Henry II’s royal doublespeak.
Michael Cohen, on his return to Congress, testified that President Trump vocalizes opinions to his subordinates with the assumption that they understand the implicit order to act on them. Then-FBI-Director James Comey testified that President Trump told him he “hoped” Comey could let the Flynn investigation go, a hope he understood to be a direct order, citing Henry’s quote to illustrate the story for Congress.
Candidate Donald Trump himself went on TV and asked Russia to help him by hacking the Democratic Party’s servers and finding “Hillary’s missing emails”. When, at the same press event, Mr. Trump was asked if he was joking, he said he was not. The next day, the Russians began hacking the DNC.
President Trump doesn’t deny saying these things; only that he was ordering anyone. Did President Trump order people to break the law? Henry Plantagenet, who was punished for saying far less, would argue the answer is yes.
