Gibson ran the clip and asked, "Are we in a holy war?" Palin answered calmly that she was praying not as if God was on our side, but hoping that we are on God's side. Despite her explanation that she did not know the mind of God, Gibson wouldn't let up: "But then are you sending your son on a task that is from God?" She said she didn't know, but she was so proud.
Palin fans were pulling their hair out by this point. In March, when it came to questions about Obama's venomous Rev. Wright, the one who thought America deserved 9/11 and that the U.S. government invented the AIDS virus to kill blacks, Gibson could only offer Obama his most supine congratulations on his "extraordinary speech on race," and gently nudge: "Can you understand why many, particularly white voters, are so repelled by the remarks that he has made?" Gibson didn't ask whether Obama thought our foreign policy was worthy of God's wrath.
Gibson would never be punished on the cocktail circuit for going easy on Obama. Not so with Palin. Had he offered her anything less than the browbeating, professorial tone and glare, coupled with the growling-dog questions, he wouldn't have been able to show his face in Manhattan.
It's a shame the roles in this interview couldn't be switched. Palin could have turned around and asked Gibson about his qualifications to lecture our commanders, whether he thinks any war, anywhere, is ever worthwhile. In 2003, he told Larry King "We used to have a little framed sign hanging in our bedroom, my wife and I, that said, 'War is not good for children and other living things,' and I believe that."
That is not only the philosophy that dominates the media, it's going to be the liberal expectation if President Obama takes the oath: that ridiculous "war on terror" is over, and it's peace in our time. All we'll have left is our prayers.