During this election season, we thought you would be encouraged by the true story of this Democratic Party leader who refused to compromise for the lives of the unborn.

Bob Casey wasn’t invited to the party.

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That is, he wasn’t welcome at the “Garden party” of his own political party.

Going into the presidential election of 1992, the Democratic Party was set to hold its national convention in New York City’s Madison Square Garden. Bill Clinton, then governor of Arkansas, was the party’s nominee. And Democrat Robert P. Casey Sr., then into his second term as governor of Pennsylvania, desired a speaking slot at his party’s convention.

It was not to be.

Casey was a faithful member of the Democratic Party and the popular governor of a strongly Democratic state—the fifth-largest U.S. state by population, in fact. But his desire went unmet. His entreaty was rejected. He was not going to be allowed to speak at the convention. 

What had happened here?

Gov. Casey was in many ways a stalwart and traditional Democrat: He was a champion of labor unions and saw government as a promising force for good, not as something to be regarded with suspicion and distrust. In other ways, perhaps, he could be considered a tad unorthodox for a Democrat: He supported citizen gun rights, for instance. But that could be forgiven. What could not be so easily overlooked was that Casey was unflinchingly, unapologetically pro-life and anti-abortion — and he was outspoken about it. And that was what he wanted to speak about at the convention, as a Democrat.

He was the “Casey” of Planned Parenthood v. Casey. This Supreme Court case did uphold a few state restrictions on abortion, such as waiting periods, parental notification for minors, and others then existent in Pennsylvania. However, it also continued to affirm an overall “right” to abortion, as asserted in the “essential holding” of Roe v. Wade.

Casey, a devout, staunch Roman Catholic, believed wholeheartedly in the sanctity of human life — beginning at conception. And he saw no reason to apologize for those beliefs or to keep silent about them. He insisted that there was room in the party platform for other views on abortion, including those that championed life. Moreover, he was convinced that a pro-life minority plank could only strengthen the Democratic Party, not hurt it.

So, what might a loyal Democrat who was also a faithful champion of human life sound like? He might sound like Casey did when, in a phone conversation with a pro-life Princeton professor, he said: “By embracing abortion, the Democratic Party is abandoning the principle that made it great: its basic commitment to protecting the weakest and most vulnerable members of the human family.”

In Roe v. Wade America, talk like that was hardly going to ingratiate Casey with the Democrat Party brass — and even less in this lead-up to a political victory the party heads wanted so badly they’d sacrifice practically anything to get it. This election was so drastically important to the party leaders because the White House had already been in Republican hands for 12 years. Republicans had effectively owned the presidency since 1968 — except for Jimmy Carter’s four years that began in 1976 but were terminated with Ronald Reagan’s landslide presidential victory in 1980.

Now, in 1992, the Democrats could see they finally had a real shot. They had a brilliantly promising candidate in Bill Clinton. Abortion was a critical social issue in the election that year, and the party was not about to risk all that on Casey’s daydream of advancing some minority position on the issue. To give any outspoken pro-life politician a national platform at such a time would be electoral suicide, the party heads decided. And that wasn’t going to happen. Casey would have to be silenced.

Ironically, Casey was generally considered a political moderate, not any sort of loose cannon, by any means. In fact, because he had run unsuccessfully for governor of Pennsylvania several times, even failing to secure the primaries, state Republicans came forward and offered him the chance to run as a Republican. He declined. He was a Democrat, through and through.

Casey did finally become governor of Pennsylvania in 1987. He proved popular with the voters immediately, and his pro-life views cost him not an ounce of that popularity, neither among Democrats nor Republicans. In fact, he won reelection in 1990 easily — and this he achieved against a pro-abortion Republican. On the national stage, however, one might not have realized the breadth of his popularity back home, given how spitefully his party was treating him.

According to a 2008 article by TheMediaReport.com: “What actually transpired at the convention itself … was simply a humiliation of Gov. Casey. ‘I would be publicly humiliated by my own party,’ wrote Casey.”

It wasn’t as if Casey was the only pro-life Democrat in the party. He wasn’t. There were others. But none of them were anywhere near as vocal as he. And none were asking for a chance to share their pro-life views at the Democratic National Convention. Not one of them would speak directly on the issue. And so, then–U.S. Sen. John Breaux of Louisiana was permitted to speak. So was Sen. Howell Heflin of Alabama. And so was Richard Daley, mayor of Chicago. All of them were pro-life. All were Democrats. And five other anti-abortion Democrat governors spoke too.

Democratic officials adamantly denied that any of those speakers had been forbidden to discuss opposition to abortion in their speeches. But it’s worth noting that none of them did so. And as far as Casey was concerned, that was just what the Democratic heads had wanted all along. Further, the Clinton campaign insisted that Casey’s exclusion was the result of his unwillingness to endorse the Clinton-Gore ticket. Casey denied it. To be sure, he was less than enthusiastic about the aggressively pro-abortion Clinton as a candidate. But he told the New York Times after the convention ended: “I support the ticket. Period. End of Quote.”

And that may have been the end of the quote, but it wasn’t the end of Casey’s humiliation. He had found himself seated far at the back of the arena. From there, he had to watch as even a pro-abortion activist from his home state was given a microphone. And that activist, Kathy Taylor, though a Democrat, had recently stumped and worked for Casey’s opponent for reelection: Barbara Hafer, a pro-abortion Republican. (Casey nonetheless won reelection against Hafer in a landslide.)

In seeking an opportunity to speak at the convention, Casey contacted DNC Chairman Ron Brown and Texas Governor Ann Richards, the convention chairwoman. Neither official responded to him immediately or directly. Casey eventually received a form letter stating the obvious—that he would not be getting a speaker’s spot—but offering no tangible explanation.

To say that Casey was deeply disappointed to be thus rejected would be to understate things. But he chose to say little about it publicly. By some reports, though, after the convention, Casey decided to take a vacation rather than begin stumping for candidate Clinton in Pennsylvania — a key swing state.

In a moving TV interview with Charlie Rose after the convention ended, Casey confirmed his assertion that he supported the Democratic ticket. But he also explained that he’d expected certain transcendent things from the Democratic Party. “This country has been the protector of the powerless,” Casey said. “There’s only one class in our human family that’s been rejected and [told]: ‘You have no rights’ — and that’s the unborn child. I think that’s unworthy of America.” Then he added: “And certainly, in my judgment as a Democrat, [it’s] unworthy of what my party historically has stood for.”

In the interview, Rose seemed to be trying to draw Casey out about his feelings about being denied a speaker’s slot at the convention. But Casey was unwilling to address it, saying that as far as he was concerned, the convention was over, and the issue was “a closed book.” Throughout the interview, Casey comports himself unpretentiously and with a spirit of quiet humility.

Gov. Casey died in May of 2000, only eight years after his trials at the 1992 convention, and at the comparatively young age of 68. In 1987, he suffered a heart attack and underwent quadruple bypass surgery. Then, in 1991, he was diagnosed with a rare disease that had, disturbingly enough, recently claimed the lives of two other Pennsylvania politicians. In June of 1993, he underwent a heart and liver transplant to combat the disease. He did return to his gubernatorial responsibilities six months later, but he was physically weakened. 

Casey left office in January of 1995 — term limits kept him from seeking re-election. Later that year, he began exploring a possible 1996 run for president, being confident that a pro-life Democrat could win against the pro-abortion President Clinton. However, just as his chance to speak at the Democratic convention in 1992 was not to be, even so, his run for president of the United States in 1996 was not to be. Rapidly declining health forced Casey to set aside his presidential aspirations, and he turned to writing an autobiography he titled Fighting for Life, published in 1996.

At a Pennsylvania Family Institute banquet that year, Casey received a Power of One Award in recognition of his tireless struggle for the lives of unborn children. But denying that his fight had been a function of the power of one, Casey insisted that it was instead the power of many and that it was the power of prayer — prayer for him while he fought for the lives of the unborn and prayer for when he himself was critically ill.

“I’m here tonight because of the prayers of thousands, perhaps even millions of people — people in this room, people all across Pennsylvania who prayed for me. I still meet people … who will stop me in the supermarket, at the gas station, at a newsstand and say: ‘Our congregation prayed for you when you were sick. … They sometimes say, ‘We’re still praying for you.’ And that takes my breath away.”

Robert Casey Sr. was a gift. He was an official and a politician who honored and respected human life, and not in words only — he was willing to fight for life, and to pay a personal price. He did all this because he first and foremost honored and revered Almighty God. When he died, the state of Pennsylvania lost, the Democratic Party lost, and so did the nation.

 The Scripture says: Most men will proclaim each his own goodness, But who can find a faithful man? (Prov. 20:6).

Indeed, most politicians do talk a great game. But precious few are willing to take it to the next level — to put righteousness first and ambition second. Fewer still will risk or sacrifice an entire political career for what they know to be true and right in God’s sight.

Casey was one of those few.

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David Ortiz was IFA’s staff editor from 2022 to 2024. Photo credit: User Michael Casey on en.wikipedia, CC BY 2.5 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.5>, via Wikimedia Commons.