Let me get this straight.
Democrats are supposed to stifle objections and smile adoringly at President Bush whenever the subject is the war on terrorism. Anything else would be downright unpatriotic.

But the G.O.P. can bathe Mr. Bush in a beatific commander-in-chief light, exploiting the war on terrorism
to sweep more Republicans into office, guarantee the president's reelection and gild the party coffers.
Anything else would be downright dumb — at least in a political jungle ruled by King Karl.

(Nobody is even supposed to point out that Osama and the Evildoers are still out there.
At this rate I expect Barbara Walters to find them before Tommy Franks does.)

So now the White House gets caught peddling 9/11 commemorative photos.
With all the class of a 1:30 a.m. infomercial for an electronic ab stimulator,
the G.O.P. pitched donors, for a bargain price, a pictorial triptych of W.'s "defining moments."

A letter to contributors hawked the goods Franklin Mint style: "Specially commissioned,
individually numbered and matted, this limited edition series is yours free for serving as
an honorary co-chairman of the 2002 President's Dinner with your gift of $150 or more."

See W. take the oath of office! See W. deliver his first State of the Union address! And, if you act now,
see W. aboard Air Force One in the hours after the terrorist attack, talking to the vice president!

Fortunately for the Republicans, it's a photo and not a video. Otherwise we might hear the president
nervously inquiring of his adult supervisor, "Hey, Dick, is it safe to come home yet?"

Even putting aside the fact that this "heroic" image captures the shaky hours before the president found
his footing and his mission in life, a day of blank fear when Washington received no guidance from its leaders,
it obliterates the White House's professed principle of not using Sept. 11 to divide.

Instead, Bushies are using that dark and sacred day to divide and conquer.

"At best, it is in very poor taste," says a Democratic official, Jim Jordan.
"At worst, it feels sacrilegious."

Al Gore, who had his own fund-raising photo problems at the Buddhist temple, relished the role reversal:
"While most pictures are worth a thousand words, a photo that seeks to capitalize on one of the most
tragic moments in our nation's history is worth only one — disgraceful."

Bill Maher, who believes his ABC show "Politically Incorrect" got canceled because he got in trouble with
the White House patriotism police for his post-9/11 gibes, said dryly, alluding to the Florida election standoff:
"It's the inaugural photo that is exploiting a tragedy."

Asked if merchandising 9/11 was "morally correct," the never-illuminating Bush press secretary,
Ari Fleischer, replied that "no objections were raised" by the White House to the party's use of the pictures.

"Any picture taken of the president in that context is a reminder of how this president has brought the nation together, Democrats and Republicans alike," he added, transforming a red-handed moment of partisanship into a glad-handing
moment of bipartisanship.

Mr. Bush went to a Republican party gala last night and raised a record $30 million. It was at the same gala two years
ago that Mr. Bush vowed to change the tone in Washington and end "excessive partisanship" and what he cast as the
craven tactics of the Clinton administration. In his campaign, he vowed that he wouldn't put the Lincoln Bedroom
up for sale.  So he shouldn't put one of the worst days in our nation's history on the block, either.

The Bush crowd has a glaring double standard when it comes to opportunistic use of catastrophes.

A Times article this week suggested that this White House is politicizing all foreign affairs, which are measured
and molded according to Karl Rove's electoral algorithms. Between the lines of the complaints about Mr. Rove's
rising influence, one could detect a pouting Powell. The secretary seems to have a bad case of Rove rage.

The idea that foreign policy has never been infected with domestic politics is extremely disingenuous.
Especially in this administration, in which politics is everywhere and all the realms and all the portfolios
run self-interestedly into each other like sauces on a plate of enchiladas.