"That is a gross distortion and I would never make such a comparison," Hughes told the Post.
She did, however -- and tens of thousands of people have signed an online petition demanding that she issue an apology. Unfortunately, she is no more forthcoming with requests for forgiveness than the president is.
It is a difficult judgment to make, calling someone a liar when they truly believe what they are saying. Hughes, though, has often said things that are not true. Turning a series of Bush's stump speeches into a book, Hughes wrote in Bush's "A Charge to Keep: My Journey to the White House" that he "continued flying with his National Guard unit for many years." Bush and Hughes both knew that was not true, and documents the White House released in March proved the opposite. Bush probably privately acknowledges this distortion, but Hughes likely believes the version she fabricated is unfailingly accurate. Although the former Texas governor was known to launch an occasional F-bomb around male reporters, not surprisingly, her romanticized version of Bush is a man who doesn't even curse.
As the war on terrorism has spiraled into chaos, Hughes has begun testifying about her religion in public forums, such as in a recent speech in Austin. It's impossible to tell if she is seeking solace in her faith or trying to convince Americans that God is on our side. Unfortunately, the U.S. soldiers who are theoretically being guided by the Bush administration's Christian God are no less dead than the Iraqi insurgents and al-Qaida terrorists who believe Allah is directing them to destroy the American infidels. Neither Jesus nor Muhammad ever spoke to the concept of killing to achieve political ends, though. One assumes, in her private moments, that Hughes and the president seek forgiveness from their Creator. But they inhabit a remote, unexplored location.
In the carefully rendered world where Hughes lives, the weapons of mass destruction are not missing; they have only to be discovered. Terrorists hate freedom and liberty and equality, instead of hating Americans. A man who won a Silver Star for shedding blood for his country needs to explain himself, while a young lieutenant who skipped out on an officer's commission and a coveted pilot's slot has "served honorably." On Planet Hughes, life is returning to normal in Iraq, the horrors are diminishing and the casualties of Americans and Iraqis are not that significant. It's a happy place where presidents never make mistakes and there is never anything to be sorry about. One can almost see her in the back of the room, her mouth rounded with expression and secretly moving in unison with the president as he speaks the words "Donald Rumsfeld is a superb secretary of defense."
After all of the troops have come home, a powerful cleric is ruling Iraq with a theocratic government and Bush has been retired to his ranch by an angry electorate, the president's closest friend will be undaunted. Years from now, when historians begin to insist that Iraq was the greatest geopolitical mistake ever made by an American president, she will be there disputing their interpretations.
Karen Hughes will always believe.