George Mason University's
History News Network

Roundup: Media's Take


This is where we excerpt articles from the media that take a historical approach to events in the news.

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Brendan Miniter, in the WSJ (March 17, 2004):

John Kerry is right about one thing: He's no Michael Dukakis. A look at the record shows that in his bid for the White House in 1988, Massachusetts' then-governor ran to Mr. Kerry's right on national defense. Mr. Kerry has not repudiated his opposition to the weapon systems Mr. Dukakis promised to support.

Everyone remembers the pathetic image of Mr. Dukakis riding around in a tank while wearing a goofy helmet. But few remember why he staged that photo-op in the first place. Mr. Dukakis was fighting to overcome the impression that he had what Henry Kissinger called a "visceral, negative" attitude toward the military--a fatal problem for a Cold War presidential candidate.

Being part of the Democratic Party was a hindrance. Many Democrats spent much of the 1980s fighting for the nuclear-freeze movement. Mr. Kerry joined the movement in 1982, during his successful campaign to become Mr. Dukakis's lieutenant governor, and he used many of its appendage groups in Massachusetts when he sought an open Senate seat in 1984. These were the intellectuals behind the rabble in the streets who protested things like deploying nuclear missiles to Turkey to counter the Soviets SS-23s.

But they did much more than oppose building or deploying nukes. They believed so strongly in "mutually assured destruction"--neither side would start a nuclear war if it was clear neither side could win such a war--that they also opposed just about any weapon system that would give America a tactical advantage over the Soviets. That's why President Reagan's Strategic Defense Initiative (which opponents derided as "star wars") was so vehemently opposed. And it's why Mr. Kerry and others voted against funding Trident II submarine launchers, stealth bombers and even the M1 Abrams Tank.

Mr. Dukakis understood the political reality that he had to close his party's credibility gap on defense without alienating politicians like Mr. Kerry. So he tried to have his cake and eat it too. Mr. Dukakis promised to cut funding for SDI but not to kill the program altogether. He also offered qualified support to the Trident II and stealth bomber projects as well as to consider ways to get around his budget concerns regarding Midgetman missile launchers. But the bulk of his military program called for spending more money on "traditional" military hardware. He wanted more tanks, not more nukes.
To pull off this feat, Mr. Dukakis drew close to "Defense Democrats" like Rep. Les Aspin and Sen. Sam Nunn, then chairmen of the Armed Services Committees in their respective chambers. He wanted to show that he wasn't the equivocating "liberal," Vice President George Bush said he was, but in fact had the support of hawks within his party.

On Sept. 11, 1988, a group of Defense Democrats made a public show of meeting Mr. Dukakis to press him on, among other things, dropping the "ifs" and "buts" when voicing support for stealth bombers and Trident II missiles. After the meeting they publicly proclaimed him to be sound on defense. The next day Mr. Dukakis went into the tank for the famous photo.


Wednesday, March 17, 2004 - 23:34

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Thomas H. Lipscomb, in Oregon Magazine (March 15, 2004):

The anti-war group that John Kerry was the principal spokesman for debated and voted on a plot to assassinate politicians who supported the Vietnam War. 

    Mr. Kerry denies being present at the November 12-15, 1971, meeting in Kansas City of Vietnam Veterans Against the War, and says he quit the group before the meeting. But according to the current head of Missouri Veterans for Kerry, Randy Barnes, Mr. Kerry,who was then 27,was at the meeting, voted against the plot, and then orally resigned from the organization. 

    Mr. Barnes was present as part of the Kansas City host chapter for the 1971 meeting and recounted the incident in a phone interview with The New York Sun this week. In addition to Mr. Barnes's recollection placing Mr. Kerry at the Kansas City meeting, another Vietnam veteran who attended the meeting, Terry Du-Bose, said that Mr. Kerry was there. 

    There are at least two other independent corroborations that the antiwar group Vietnam Veterans Against the War, of which Mr. Kerry was the most prominent national spokesman, considered assassinating American political leaders who favored the war. 

    Gerald Nicosia's 2001 book “Home To War” reports that one of the key leaders of Vietnam Veterans Against the War, Scott Camil,“proposed the assassination of the most hard-core conservative members of Congress,as well as any other powerful, intractable opponents of the antiwar movement.”The book reports on the Kansas City meeting at which Mr.Camil's plan was debated and then voted down. 

    Mr. Nicosia's book was widely praised by reviewers as varied as General Harold Moore, author of “We Were Soldiers”; Gloria Emerson, who had been a New YorkTimes reporter during the Vietnam War, and leftist Howard Zinn. Mr. Kerry himself stated in a blurb on the cover that the book “ties together the many threads of a difficult period.” Mr. Kerry hosted a party for the book in the Hart Senate Office Building that was televised on C-SPAN. 

    Another source is an October 20,1992, oral history interview of Scott Camil on file at the University of Florida Oral History Archive. In it,Mr.Camil speaks of his plan for an alternative to Mr.Kerry's idea of symbolically throwing veterans' medals over the fence onto the steps of the Capitol during the Dewey Canyon III demonstration in Washington in April of 1971. 

    “My plan was that, on the last day we would go into the [congressional] offices we would schedule the most hardcore hawks for last — and we would shoot them all,” Mr. Camil told the Oral History interviewer. “I was serious.” 

    In a phone interview with the Sun this week, Mr. Camil did not dispute either the account in the Nicosia book or in the oral history.He said he plans to accept an offer by the Florida Kerry organization to become active in Mr. Kerry's presidential campaign. Campaign aides to Mr. Kerry invited Mr.Camil to a meeting for the senator in Orlando last week, but they did not meet directly. 

    Mr. Camil was known to colleagues in the anti-war movement as “Scott the Assassin.” Mr. Camil told The New York Sun he got the name in Vietnam for “sneaking down to the Vietnamese villages at night and killing people.” 


Wednesday, March 17, 2004 - 23:05

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Michael Kranish, in the Boston Globe (March 11, 2004):

Steven Michael Gardner served side by side with John Forbes Kerry in Vietnam, was wounded under Kerry's command, and was manning twin .50-caliber machine guns on a night that has forever haunted Kerry -- the night his crew killed a young boy in a sampan.

But unlike many of Kerry's crewmates, Gardner has not appeared at Kerry's side at campaign rallies, and his view of Kerry at war is far different from the heroic view presented by others."He absolutely did not want to engage the enemy when I was with him," Gardner said in a recent interview."He wouldn't go in there and search. That is why I have a negative viewpoint of John Kerry."

Gardner's view is dramatically at odds with that of many other crewmates whom the Globe interviewed, who praise Kerry's leadership and say he was one of the most aggressive skippers in the Navy at the time. Gardner, who said he intends to support President Bush for reelection, clashed with Kerry on one of the most memorable and haunting nights that the two sailors spent together in Vietnam. That story, which until recently has been told publicly only in fragmentary form, involved the killing of the young boy.

As Gardner recalls it, he was in the"tub" above the pilot house with the twin machine guns, and Kerry was in command, when the Navy swift boat came upon a sampan in the darkness. Gardner flashed a searchlight and ordered the craft to stop. Then, he said, he saw a figure rise up over the gunwale with a semiautomatic weapon. Spotting tracers in the sky and fearing an attack, Gardner said, he laced the sampan with bullets, and other crew members fired as well. Gardner recalls a man in the sampan falling overboard, presumably dead.

After the shooting had stopped and Kerry had ordered a cease-fire, Gardner said, the crew found a woman in the sampan who was alive. There was also the boy, dead in the bottom of the boat. Gardner said there is no way to know which crewmate fired the shots that killed the boy, but he said Kerry was in the pilot house and did not fire. Kerry was livid when he emerged, Gardner said.

"Kerry threatened me with a court-martial, screaming at the top of his lungs: `What the hell do you think you're doing? I ought to have you court-martialed,'" Gardner recalled."Thankfully, the whole crew was there in the middle of it . . . they verified there were weapons being shot at us. That was the end of it." ...


Wednesday, March 17, 2004 - 23:02

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Crystia Freeland, writing for the Financial Times (London) (March 13, 2004)

According to a popular Russian saying,"eating increases the appetite". This aphorism is being often applied these days to President Vladimir Putin, who faces tomorrow's ballot more like a monarch approaching a coronation than an incumbent facing the polls. In 1999, when Mr Putin emerged as the Yeltsin clan's chosen successor, he was a relatively obscure apparatchik, whose primary qualification for office, as far as his patrons were concerned, was his demonstrated loyalty to previous masters, even after they had left office.

But his political vision was a mystery. As Sergei Parkhomenko, a leading Russian journalist, put it ahead of Mr Putin's first test at the ballot box in 2000, the candidate was like an Asian bride, whose face would be revealed to her bridegroom only after the wedding. When the veil was lifted, Russia discovered a leader whose essential political beliefs were the exact opposite of his predecessor's. Whereas Boris Yeltsin's impulse was to free things, Mr Putin's is to bring things back under control. He has re-established the Kremlin's grip over national television, brought elected regional governors firmly to heel and decimated organised political opposition.

As he has devoured each additional morsel of freedom from the Yeltsin years, Mr Putin's appetite has increased. One stimulus has been his discovery that the forces that might have chilled Russia's flirtation with authoritarianism - western governments, foreign investors, liberal Moscow elites - have been quiescent or even supportive.

A turning point was this autumn's imprisonment of Mikhail Khodorkovsky, the Russian oil baron. In the tense months ahead of his arrest, many wondered whether the president would dare seize Russia's richest businessman. Mr Khodorkovsky believed - and even told me - it would not be easy for Mr Putin to take that final step; even some of his fiercest critics agreed, warning the Kremlin to be wary of alienating the western investors Mr Khodorkovsky had courted and the Russian intellectuals he had financed. But Mr Putin dared - and discovered that both opponents were illusory...

...Many western investors, too, have sympathy with Mr Putin. The Russian stock market is buoyant and western fund managers have assiduously promoted the argument that a strong populist government, untroubled by the niceties of democracy, might be just what Russia needs to reform its economy further .

The problem is that there is no guarantee that authoritarianism, particularly Mr Putin's brand of it, will be any better for Russia than the riotous pluralism that preceded it. Yegor Gaidar, Russia's pre-eminent economist, points out that privatised sectors of the economy, like the oil business, have far outstripped industries such as Gazprom, the state-controlled gas giant, which remain firmly under the Kremlin's control. Privatisation was ugly and unfair, he concedes, but private property does actually work.

And while Mr Putin clearly understands power, he shows few signs of creating an impartial, rules-based structure to enable the economy to develop freely. Indeed, Mr Putin's tools for reasserting authority depend on the economy remaining corrupt and subject to the arbitrary application of the law. Mr Putin inherited a country with a contradictory and incomplete legal framework, a crazy-quilt of Soviet-era and free-market legislation in which every businessman is a potential criminal. That sounds like a bad thing - and, for the economy, it is. But for Mr Putin, it is a vital instrument of control.

Mikhail Fridman, the oligarch who brokered Russia's biggest foreign investment project - BP's Dollars 6.75bn (Pounds 3.7bn) oil deal - and an adept navigator of this perilous environment, told me this was the traditional relationship between the state and the individual dating back to the tsarist era:"Karamzin (the 18th-century Russian historian) said the severity of Russian laws is compensated by the fact that it is not obligatory to follow them. The state establishes rules of the game according to which it is impossible to live. But somehow, everyone lives - but by breaking the rules. And so everyone feels himself to be a criminal. For that reason, it is always easy for the state." Mr Putin likes to talk about the need to restore law and order in Russia. It is the sort of milk and motherhood promise that - obviously - must be a good thing. But in a land where everyone is a criminal in waiting, the"order" thus imposed may well be less just and less prosperous than the chaos it replaces.


Monday, March 15, 2004 - 18:45

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Daniel Henninger, in the WSJ (March 12, 2004):

John Kerry entered the U.S. Senate in 1985, and for 18 years built the record that is now the basis for calling him either complex and nuanced or inconsistent and opportunistic. Most famously, Mr. Kerry voted for the Iraq war resolution, but criticizes nearly every action Mr. Bush has taken on Iraq. He voted for the Patriot Act but says John Ashcroft is"abusing" it. There is a long list of similarly nuanced positions (a word Mr. Kerry rejects).

Here is a Harry Truman story from Alan Axelrod's book on Truman's leadership style. Speaking at Columbia University in 1959, a student challenged the 33rd President, a Democrat, on dropping the second A-bomb."The reason I asked this," the student said,"was that it seemed to me the second bomb came pretty soon after the first one." After speaking testily of"Monday morning quarterbacks," Truman said simply:"I was there. I did it. I would do it again."

This isn't John Kerry. Indeed, it is unlikely that Harry Truman's blunt, almost cocky retort would be seen as admirable by current standards of public sensitivity. But the stubborn forcefulness of Truman's decision-making still stands as a symbol of presidential leadership, as does that of FDR, Lincoln and increasingly Ronald Reagan, who installed Pershing missiles in Europe against opposition similar to that faced now by Mr. Bush on Iraq. Roosevelt pressed the Lend Lease Act against an embittered domestic opposition.

This is a guess, as inevitably one has to guess about a presidential challenger, but John Kerry's temperament, as we have seen it, appears unlikely to have let him make Truman's decision to drop the bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. He would have found the implications of that decision too difficult to bear the heavy judgments of history, then or now.

Iraq aside, one must doubt that Mr. Kerry would have attacked the Taliban in Afghanistan on the scale and with the ferociousness of Mr. Bush's successful assault. After September 11, both conservatives and liberals opposed retaliation against al Qaeda's redoubts in Afghanistan, describing many scenarios of political and geographic disaster. It is reasonable to guess that a President Kerry would have sided with those articulating arguments against.

Across the years, Mr. Kerry has been Hamlet, a political metaphor sure to rise again and again until November. This is one ghost that can't be mocked offstage. It needs to be faced. Vietnam haunted him, then and now. By his friends' accounts, he wrestles in his maturity with the decisions of life and politics.

Hamlet is very much a man for our times. Perhaps the presidency deserves one version of Everyman in the complex and inconstant world we inhabit. I doubt it. The historian James McGregor Burns said a few years back that often now politicians"don't have firm sets of ideals or values, either liberal or conservative or radical, that can underpin strong leadership." Some truths don't change. It is very hard to see John Kerry as the right fit for the office of the American presidency....


Friday, March 12, 2004 - 19:02

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Paula Span, in the Washington Post (March 11, 2004):

The number of military families that oppose Operation Iraqi Freedom, though never measured, is probably small. But a nascent antiwar movement has begun to find a toehold among parents, spouses and other relatives of active-duty, reserve and National Guard troops.

A group called Military Families Speak Out -- which will figure prominently in marches and vigils at Dover Air Force Base, Walter Reed Army Medical Center and the White House next week -- says more than 1,000 families have signed up online and notes that new members join daily. ...

Of course, most people with relatives in wartime service, a group historically more likely to express approval than distrust, don't feel the same way. Though public support for the war was found to have declined in the most recent Washington Post-ABC News poll, most military families say their support for the action and the president remains unwavering....

Yet even if the opponents represent only a sliver of military families, the emergence of organized antiwar opinion among this traditionally conservative group is something the country hasn't seen before, several historians and political scientists believe.

During the Vietnam War, a handful of Gold Star Mothers who had lost sons in the war marched with Vietnam Vets Against the War and other antiwar groups, says David Cline, now president of Veterans for Peace and an early member of Vietnam Vets. But there were only at most a couple of dozen such mothers, by his recollection, and they never created a nationwide network. The National League of Families, formed to bring political attention to prisoners of war and troops missing in action, had considerable influence but was not critical of the war itself.

And those activists, like Vietnam Vets Against the War as a national group, arose years after the first American losses in Vietnam , by which point a considerable part of the public had already lost faith in the war. For military families to organize against the Iraq war beforehand and during its first year, Cline observes, is like " Vietnam on speed."

"This is unprecedented," says Ronald H. Spector, a military historian at George Washington University . "If military families are having serious doubts about the war and don't see a reason for their relatives to go over there, that's quite significant."


Friday, March 12, 2004 - 18:19

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Eric Black, in the Star Tribune (March 11, 2004):

Twenty years ago this summer, Democratic presidential nominee Walter Mondale chose Rep. Geraldine Ferraro of New York as his running mate, which made her the first woman ever on a major party ticket.

At a reunion Wednesday morning, Mondale and Ferraro reminisced about their history-making 1984 partnership, then joined several analysts of gender politics in pondering why no women have been on a major presidential ticket since Ferraro broke the barrier.

Celinda Lake, a Democratic pollster who got her first big break on the 1984 campaign, showed data suggesting that gender stereotypes still play a significant role in voters' choices. For example, only 46 percent of Americans described themselves as"very comfortable" with the idea of a woman president.

Although a couple of women have been mentioned as possible running mates for this year's presumptive Democratic nominee, Sen. John Kerry, the most prominently mentioned names are men. If Kerry picks a man and President Bush sticks with Vice President Dick Cheney, as he has said he will, that will make 20 males who have run for president or vice president on the major party tickets since Ferraro's breakthrough nomination.


Thursday, March 11, 2004 - 17:05

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Jonathan Freedland, writing for the Guardian (London) (March 10, 2004)

Perhaps we shouldn't read too much into the slogans emblazoned on high-street leisurewear, but the social historians of the future might unearth some interesting nuggets if they try. The FCUK brand will tell its own story of loosening mores and the enduring British tradition of sniggering at rude words. Duffer will intrigue: what kind of people were happy to walk around with the equivalent of dimwit written across their chests? And finally there will be great interest in the T-shirts and tracksuit tops whose backs bore the letters CCCP. What exactly did this invocation of the Soviet past signify?

The answer will be that it declared the Soviet Union deader than dead; so over that its motifs and iconography were reduced to the"ironic" or kitsch. Mention Red Square and, according to one survey, 92% of British 18- to 24-year-olds will recognise it - as the brand-name of a vodka-based alcopop.

These words used to scare. For the decades of the cold war, merely to mention Russia was to conjure fears of the superpower enemy, its nuclear arsenal aimed at us. From 1945 anxious western eyes stared at Moscow, watching its every move. The fear lasted for decades and sank deep into the culture: in the mid-1980s, Sting sang earnestly of his hope that"the Russians love their children too".

It's a different world now. On Sunday, Russians will vote in a presidential election that has received less media attention in Britain than the first round of Democratic voting in the hog-state of Iowa. The incumbent, Vladimir Putin, sacked his whole cabinet last month - and barely made a dent on the front pages.

Maybe that's because this is hardly a close contest. Putin polls close to 80%, while none of his rivals breaks out of single digits. He controls state television, whose criticism-free news bulletins are a Soviet throwback:"Today the president met with the defence minister of Kazakhstan. . ."A Putin cult of personality is building, with all-girl pop groups singing odes to his manhood and even manufacturers of toothpicks decorating their product with his face.

"It's wrong to call it an election," says Boris Berezovsky, one of the clutch of Yeltsin-era billionaire oligarchs who made a fortune from the great sell-off of Russian national assets, now living in exile in London."It's an election in the Soviet sense: the Russian people have no choice."

Berezovksky himself is following the election closely, of course. From his swanky office in Mayfair, he watches the Russian news on satellite TV, doubtless dreaming of the day he will overcome his enemies back home - those who say he fleeced the state and ran - and returns to Moscow as president. Yet even he seems to accept that Russia is not what it was. The boardroom corridor is lined with pictures of Russian faces from the past: Lenin, Yeltsin, even Yuri Andropov. But they, like those CCCP shirts, give off the whiff of nostalgia and irony - as if the expected response is a chuckle.

The implication is that Russia may still matter intensely to Russians, but the rest of us have gently forgotten about it. We cared when the world was divided between two superpowers, but now Russia has plunged to the middle of the global league-table and only specialists need pay attention. Is this judgment fair, if harsh - or are we making a mistake we may live to regret?

The arguments for apathy are strong. Russia is certainly a punier force than it was: its empire has shrunk to both the west and the south. In one direction, it has seen former satellite nations -Hungary, Poland and what used to be East Germany and Czechoslovakia - swallowed up into the European Union. From the other, it can only watch as the central Asian republics - Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan and the rest of the"stans" - fall under US influence. Since 9/11, and in return for a free hand in Chechnya, Putin has acquiesced in America's installation of military bases in a region that was once an integral part of the USSR and an undisputed part of Moscow's sphere.

In tune with this changing geography, Russia has accepted a diminished role for itself. It has given up the peacekeeping role it fought so hard to acquire in the Balkans, has no role in Iraq and has let China take the lead on North Korea while the Europeans deal with Iran. It all smacks of a nation in retreat.

Economically it does not pack much of a punch either. The Putin years have seen growth, but the numbers are artificial - pumped up by the high price of oil which accounts for up to a quarter of the Russian economy. The country is depopulating, which dampens its future prospects. Even if Russia doubled its GDP over the next decade it would still reach no higher than the present-day level of Portugal.

Politically, too, those who had high hopes for post-Communist Russia could be forgiven for walking away now. Russians seem to have accepted what one analyst calls"authoritarian modernisation", a trade-off of democratic rights and civil liberties in return for prosperity, trusting the all-powerful leader to drive through the changes that Russia needs.

Despite all this, it would be a mistake to change channels and tune out of what is happening in Moscow. For Russia still holds some pretty serious cards. It retains the nuclear armoury of the bygone era. Berezovsky jokes that even if not all of the weapons work - to Putin's great embarrassment, at a recent military display two ballistic missiles failed to launch and another went wildly off course - some do, and it only takes one to bring Armageddon. A reckless future president could trigger disaster; more likely, a disenchanted soldier or scientist could sell the nukes on his watch.

Russia has a permanent seat on the UN security council, which counts for something; and, inflated prices aside, it also sits on vast oil and gas reserves which Europe, especially, badly needs. As America's own supply of fossil fuels runs dry, Moscow will look ever stronger.

The country's mineral wealth, coupled with its educated population, means Russia could yet break out as an economic power; a Slavic tiger, enjoying the blend of liberal economics and strict politics that has worked wonders for South Korea and China.

Above all, there is the geography. Look at the map, advises Berezovsky:"Russia is at the intersection of west and east, and east and south." It squats over the frontline in the putative clash of civilisations; and it looks out on the region where the"war on terror" could be decided - Iran, Pakistan, Afghanistan.

What if Russia was to lease to China part of the Siberian border region, much as China leased Hong Kong to Britain, wonders Berezovsky? That would change everything. As he puts it, rather in the manner of a Bond villain:"Whoever controls Eurasia controls the world."

Russia's past may be high-street kitsch and its present may be strictly for the inside pages, but that cannot be true forever. Russia is too big to disappear from view. We need to keep watch.


Wednesday, March 10, 2004 - 14:58

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Kenneth S. Baer, author of Reinventing Democrats: The Politics of Liberalism from Reagan to Clinton and a speechwriter for Al Gore; in Newsday (New York) (March 7, 2004)

Listening to Republicans crow over the past few weeks, you would have thought that the 1990s never happened.

Mississippi Gov. Haley Barbour called the presumptive Democratic nominee a"taller, leaner version of Ted Kennedy." Pat Buchanan charged that he was a"Massachusetts liberal," and GOP strategist Greg Mueller gleefully called Sen. John Kerry a"New England Dukakis liberal."

The election and re-election of Bill Clinton, plus the near-election of Al Gore, were supposed to have put this kind of liberal-bashing to rest. Clinton was the New Democrat from Arkansas who dislodged a party mired in American politics' left bank and guided it into the mainstream. In victory, Democrats were to have learned their lesson, never again to nominate a Northeastern liberal, especially one who lived a stone's throw from the ivy-covered walls of Harvard.

Yet last week, Democrats seemed to have reverted to form, selecting Michael Dukakis' fellow Bay Stater and one-time lieutenant governor to be the party's standard-bearer this fall.

Republicans may be ecstatic, but to honestly believe that Kerry is a Dukakis throwback is to believe that Cabbage Patch Kids, acid-washed jeans and MC Hammer are on the cusp of a revival.

The Democratic Party of 2004 is not the Democratic Party of 1988 - or 1968. The party has been profoundly changed by Bill Clinton's candidacies and presidency, and this transformation is clearly reflected in the Democrats' new leader...

...By 1984, according to the National Election Studies, Americans viewed the Democratic Party as representing black militants, the women's liberation movement, civil rights leaders, welfare recipients, gays and lesbians and labor unions. On a favorability scale of zero to 100, this coalition scored an average of 45.

These are the bogeymen that Republicans like to conjure up come election time, but they are the ghosts of the Democratic Party past.

In the 1990s, Clinton and the New Democrats fashioned a post-Cold War foreign policy predicated on America's engagement with the world and the promotion of democracy abroad. As demonstrated in the Balkans, they readily used military force to further American interests and values. On the domestic front, they proved that Democrats once again could manage the economy as Clinton opened markets abroad, expanded economic opportunity and oversaw the longest period of economic growth in U.S. history.

Countering the belief that the Democrats were the party of tax-and-spend, Clinton ran a record budget surplus and cut the federal government to its smallest size since John Kennedy was in office. By ending welfare, promoting national service and putting more cops on the beat, Clinton rebalanced the party's emphasis on rights and responsibilities. On social issues, Democrats remained committed to inclusion and tolerance, and shed their aversion to faith and family.

Make no mistake: Changing a party's public philosophy is like steering an aircraft carrier. It took New Right conservatives 16 years from Barry Goldwater's defeat to Ronald Reagan's victory. And despite all Clinton did to debunk Democratic stereotypes on national security, the mishandling of the 2002 campaign and Bush's post-Sept. 11 leadership reasserted the Democratic disadvantage on this issue with a vengeance. Yet, policy and political success breeds imitation and slow but steady change.

Look at the results of this year's presidential nominating race. The candidate of the labor left (Richard Gephardt) and the candidate of the liberal left (Howard Dean) both lost decisively. The black protest candidate (Al Sharpton) barely made a dent with his own constituency, and the candidate who ran on a platform of pure early-'70s liberalism (Dennis Kucinich) won nothing outside of Maui.

Both of the two finalists in the nominating race - Kerry and John Edwards - supported the war in Iraq, backed middle-class tax cuts, offered affordable and market-oriented health-care plans, championed fiscal discipline and promoted national service on the stump. When Edwards veered left by staking out a protectionist stance on trade, he not only failed to win industrial states, but was forced to concede the nomination after being shut out on Super Tuesday.

Does that make the candidate left-standing, Kerry, a New Democrat? Not necessarily. Kerry was not at the vanguard of the New Democratic movement in the 1980s, and hailing from Massachusetts - as opposed to Georgia or Oklahoma - he didn't need to be. Like most of the pre-Clinton party, Kerry was certainly more liberal Democrat than New Democrat, yet he wasn't leading the resistance either.

Since then, like the bulk of the party, Kerry has made his peace with key New Democratic policies and is far from the McGovernik Massachusetts liberal that Republicans relish running against.

During the Clinton years, Kerry sided with the president on the two most internally divisive issues the party faced, welfare reform and trade. And during his own presidential campaign, Kerry has focused his pitch on his military experience and belief in a muscular, Kennedyesque (John, not Ted) liberal internationalism. Even in the darkest days of his candidacy, Kerry told anti-war crowds that Democrats had to be strong on defense and refused to pander to labor crowds by telling them that he could bring back lost manufacturing jobs.

Of course, Kerry has a long record in public life, and Republicans surely will pick it over to paint him as a liberal (at best) or a flip-flopper (at worst) - charges that Kerry will have to forcefully rebut. But, in the end, Kerry represents the mainstream of today's Democratic Party, and while neither he nor the party may proudly take up the New Democratic label, both have been shaped by the Clinton presidency and the New Democratic project - and are better off for it.


Wednesday, March 10, 2004 - 13:49

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Patrick J. Kiger, writing for the Los Angeles Times (March 7, 2004)

English writer W. Somerset Maugham published a 1949 essay in which he pondered whether Dostoevski or El Greco was the greater artistic genius. He reluctantly came down on the side of El Greco after deciding that 16th century Spain was a more fertile environment for the flowering of inspiration than czarist Russia. One can only speculate about the precise number of revolutions per minute that Maugham could achieve in his crypt were he somehow to gaze upon the cover of the July 24, 2003, issue of Rolling Stone magazine that proclaimed"The Genius of Eminem."...

...We ought to consider ourselves blessed. Forget about ancient Athens, China during the Tang dynasty, Florence during the Renaissance, Paris in the 1920s and Greenwich Village in the 1950s. We live in an age peopled by more artistic geniuses than in any other moment in history, though the bar is set considerably lower than in the past.

As recently as the mid-20th century, qualifying as an artistic genius meant belonging to a rarified elite--Picasso, Hemingway, Stravinsky, Pollock, Frank Lloyd Wright, Miles Davis, et al.--who created masterpieces that changed the way people thought about the world, and in the process lived existences infused with drama. But that sort of resume is no longer necessary, thanks to the evolution of pop culture and the explosive growth of media hype...

...AThough we have more supposed artistic geniuses than ever, their output, oddly, is increasingly middling. What's happened in the last couple of decades is that puffery seems to have surpassed prodigy. Here's a test: Try to think of a recently produced book, movie, poem, pop song or artwork that you could imagine being appreciated 50 or 100 years from now, the way we still gravitate to"The Starry Night,""Citizen Kane" or"Kind of Blue.".../p>

...The result is a world in which you don't have to dare to be great, in which a swath of humanity, wide enough to stretch from Frank Gehry to Britney Spears, shares the lofty mantle of genius. Gehry, the architect known for playfully unconventional designs, at least approximates the old-fashioned concept of genius-hood. But Spears? The barely clad, histrionic ex-teen diva whose voice is so thin that some speculate she even lip-syncs interviews? All the same, she's also a genius, according to a concert reviewer from the New York Times, who observed in 2001 that Spears was"an artist whose genius is not for singing--indeed, this performance did not suffer at all from the music's being its least important element--but for teasing out the cravings and fears that haunt the modern world." (If that makes her sound a bit like Edvard Munch with decolletage, remember that it probably was written on deadline.)...

...Humans have always argued about what constitutes artistic greatness, and the source of genius. The Romans believed artistic ability came from a supernatural being, the"genius," that guarded each man. The 18th century essayist Joseph Addison decided that there were two sorts of geniuses--those who'd diligently worked to learn their art, such as English poet John Milton, and the natural, untutored, compulsive virtuosity of a William Shakespeare, the sort of savant who created great art as easily as other men breathed.

More recently, developmental psychologist William Therivel, author of the three-volume treatise"The GAM/DP Theory of Personality and Creativity," has argued that genius is a combination of genetics and assistance (i.e., educational opportunities, supportive families and intellectual mentors). There's also the unexpected dash of misfortune or trauma that forces the budding wunderkind to forsake conventional beliefs, taboos and methods of problem-solving that inhibit most of us but allows him or her to see the world in a startlingly different way. The final ingredient is a social milieu in which power is divided rather than absolute, so the artist can play the iconoclast without being crushed like a bug. It results in what is called a" challenged personality," an artistically gifted person who pursues that vision with a single-minded aggressiveness that borders on antagonism.

Therivel cites Mozart, whose talented but unsuccessful musician father made sure that his son had opportunities to study in Venice and Vienna, as an example of a genius who scored high in all GAM/DP categories. In contrast, rival 18th century composer Antonio Salieri came from an apparently less talented gene pool and had fewer educational opportunities, which may be why he's remembered mostly as the jealous, vengeful schmo in the film"Amadeus."

Nevertheless, the concept of the innate, unfettered artistic genius persists, perhaps because it has given generations of writers, painters and musicians an excuse to frequent brothels, smoke opium and wreck hotel rooms in pursuit of their muse. ...


Wednesday, March 10, 2004 - 13:45

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Jagdish Bhagwati, writing for the Guardian (London) (March 8, 2004)

A free trader's work is never done, especially in the United States. The historians of free trade in Great Britain since the repeal of the corn laws in mid-19th century have argued that politicians in strong economies embrace free trade because they expect their countries to win in the Darwinian struggle in the marketplace. But the US, despite having emerged at the end of the second world war as the top dog on the block, has repeatedly descended into paranoia on trade.

The recent furore over outsourcing fits into a pattern of fear of trade with the developing countries that goes back to the fierce fights against Nafta with Mexico, and the furore over the imports of labour-intensive goods from the Far East and then China (the"yellow peril"). Now we have the outcry over the imports of (mostly) labour-intensive services online - what economists sometimes call"long distance" services where the provider and the user do not have to get together physically - from India (the"brown peril"). As always, the fear is baseless and based on bad economics.

The earlier fear was that manufacturing jobs for the working class would disappear with imports; vice-president Fritz Mondale conjured up a nation of"hamburger flippers". Now the fear is that the new imports will take good jobs from the middle class, and the modern-day doomsayers imagine a nation of"grocery baggers" at the supermarkets as discharged computer programmers et al struggle for survival at low wages in lower occupations. The fear is not just exaggerated, it is also false; though, as the Russian proverb goes, it has big eyes, and a recent poll suggests that more than a third of the American labour force is in a state of anxiety over jobs.

The difficult job situation in skilled information technology-related occupations has been heavily overlaid by the dotcom bust and by the overvaluation of the dollar, both pheonomena which are being reversed. In fact, according to the bureau of labour statistics, jobs in the very recent years for IT-related occupations have risen, admittedly slowly, but they have not fallen.

Moreover IT, like so much other technology but even more so, displaces unskilled workers and hence low-paying jobs; but it creates demands to maintain and support the technology, which implies new, higher-paying jobs. Vast numbers of jobs to support and service hardware (say, PCs), to maintain the software and to manage the ever-growing new variants and applications, have emerged and will grow rapidly through the next 10 years, as the BLS projections also underline quantitatively.

Furthermore, many services cannot simply be provided on the wire. In particular, as the US population ages and the IT revolution gathers speed and enters senior citizens' lives, many will need not a voice from Bangalore telling them in incomprehensible technical language what to do but a technician who will come and do it for them.

These optimistic assessments are clouded in the public domain by a delusion fostered by mindless commentary in the media. That is illustrated by the astonishing Lou Dobbs show on CNN which daily lists the firms that have outsourced jobs. Mr Dobbs forgets that he should also list the jobs that come in, not just those that go out.

The clinching argument against interfering with outsourcing through protectionism or its variants such as tax deterrents or opprobrium is provided by the fact that the US is closely integrated in the world economy.

In a world that is characterised by intense competition today, small cost disadvantages can spell the demise of a firm: hence all the clamour about"unfair trade" by your rivals on the flimsiest grounds.

If US firms lose out to UK firms because the British government is not joining the protectionist chorus, then they could fold, making the job loss, and hence the worker adjustment required, manifoldly greater. An analogy, not recommended for use by politicians, is that of triage: a lifeboat with a hundred people on board will sink and drown the hundred; but if 10 are thrown overboard 90 will survive.

So the fears over the job adjustment required thanks to online imports of services are unwarranted. And if they are succumbed to they will themselves create serious adjustment problems in their wake.

Will the US ever learn?


Wednesday, March 10, 2004 - 13:43

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Mark Trahant, in the Seattle Times (Feb. 22, 2004):

It's about a war president who went too far. He divided the country between those who favored military engagement and those who thought the president had been dishonest about his very reason for war.

One member of Congress was particularly troubled. The Illinois member, soon to become a Republican, rose on the House floor to express his displeasure; the president should not have the power to invade a country based on something that might happen or be allowed"to make war at pleasure."

The country was divided ideologically, too. When the war was first explained, Congress voted to support the president. But as time went on, Congress was more and more divided. One resolution, passing by a single vote, denounced the conflict as"a war unnecessarily and unconstitutionally begun by the President of the United States." Outside of Washington, D.C., the country was stuck in division between what we now call the red and the blue states.

The year was 1848. The war was against Mexico. The president was James K. Polk. And the dissenting member of Congress was one Abraham Lincoln. His stand in Illinois was so unpopular that it was said to have"retired Lincoln to private life."

A couple of weeks ago, I picked up a new biography,"James K. Polk," by John Seigenthaler.

Over the years, John and I have had great conversations about Polk's mentor, Andrew Jackson."Old Hickory" was, in many ways, the first"American" president (before that, presidents were more European), whose confiscation of Americans Indian homelands is unequaled. It was also an era when politics was particularly passionate and nasty.

So I was looking forward to reading about the politician they called"Young Hickory." But as I read more about the war against Mexico -- and the divisions it caused -- my mind kept seeing today's headlines.

I know history never offers perfect parallels, but the stories told do help us understand our national character.

Ours is not the only generation divided by war. Some memories are still fresh, such as Vietnam, while others are deeply planted, rarely part of our national discourse.

Yet it was the Mexican War -- and the divisions it exacerbated -- that inspired the dissent of Abraham Lincoln, Henry David Thoreau's"Civil Disobedience" and Ralph Waldo Emerson. ...


Wednesday, March 10, 2004 - 13:41

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Robert J. Samuelson, in Wash Post (March 5, 2004):

One great project of the late 20th century was the construction of vast welfare states in wealthy nations to protect people against the insecurities of the business cycle and the injustices of unfettered capitalism. One great question of the early 21st century is whether these welfare states, facing massive commitments to aging populations, will themselves create new insecurities and injustices. Comes now economic historian Peter Lindert, who has thoroughly probed the welfare state, with a surprising message: Relax.

In an important new book ("Growing Public: Social Spending and Economic Growth Since the Eighteenth Century"), Lindert finds the welfare state to be a resilient institution. He acknowledges the conflict. The elderly (those over 65) are expected to reach 20 percent of the population in 2008 for Japan and Italy, in 2015 for Sweden, and in 2020 for Germany and Belgium (the United States will then be at about 16 percent). But Lindert thinks governments will dodge crises by a pragmatic mix of benefits cuts and tax increases.

Will it be that easy? Last week Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan provoked howls by suggesting cuts in Social Security benefits for future retirees. The reaction to Greenspan's comments highlights the danger of a vicious circle: Politicians can't cut popular benefits. Rising taxes or budget deficits then reduce economic growth -- making benefits harder to pay. The welfare state becomes unaffordable. It promotes economic stagnation and generational and class competition for dwindling benefits.

After an exhaustive analysis, Lindert -- who teaches at the University of California at Davis -- is less alarmed. So far, the welfare state is a "free lunch," he concludes. That is, high taxes and benefits (for unemployment, health and retirement) haven't depressed economic growth. Countries can be caring without crippling themselves. How can this be when economic theory and common sense suggest that heavy taxes and benefits should hurt work and investment?

Lindert offers three answers. First, some public spending (say, on schools) may improve economic growth. Second, generous benefits may reward -- and raise -- unemployment, but the added jobless are mostly unskilled; their loss doesn't hurt much. And, finally, countries with big welfare states have adopted taxes that minimize economic damage. In Europe, taxes approach 50 percent of national income (as opposed to about 30 percent in the United States). But Europe relies heavily on a sales tax -- the "value-added tax" -- that, in theory, falls on consumption and not investment or work effort.

America's desire for welfare (called "poor relief" before the 20th century) was always less than Europe's, Lindert says. The frontier spirit emphasized self-reliance; ethnic diversity discouraged helping dissimilar groups. Even so, welfare in the 1800s was usually below 1 percent of national income everywhere. The poor were stigmatized as failures. The Depression and World War II were transforming, says Lindert. People identified with others' misfortunes -- "that could be me" -- and yearned for collective security.

Up to a point, Lindert's story is a cautionary tale for both liberals and conservatives. For conservatives: There's no automatic connection between bigger government and lower economic growth; sensible societies can deliver both good growth and social justice. For liberals: It matters how societies pay for welfare programs; "soak the rich" taxes can be self-defeating by discouraging investment and risk taking. If citizens want more collective benefits (say, health insurance), they need to pay for them collectively. But Lindert's larger conclusion, that the welfare state has only been a free lunch, strains belief.

In 2003 the average U.S. income per person was $34,831, report economists Robert H. McGuckin and Bart van Ark of the Conference Board. In Germany the average income was $25,507. Lower productivity (output per hour) doesn't explain the difference. It was about equal in both countries. The gap has two causes -- German workers spend less time working, and proportionately fewer Germans work. Why? One reason may be a greater cultural desire for more vacations and free time. But higher taxes also make work less rewarding, while higher welfare makes unemployment more rewarding.


Wednesday, March 10, 2004 - 13:01

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Delia M. Rios, for the Newhouse News Service (March 5, 2004):

Is he "presidential" or isn't he?

In important ways, the campaign for the White House -- the debates, the ads, the machinations of the Republican and Democratic parties, the millions of dollars -- all come down to that question....

Only 42 men have held the nation's highest office. To be mentioned in the same company as the four enshrined on Mount Rushmore -- Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, and T.R., the first Roosevelt called by his initials -- is intoxicating indeed. But what is it that gives Kerry, in the eyes of some Americans, that presidential aura?

What, for that matter, gives it to George Bush? The current commander in chief won the Oval Office in 2000 with only 48 percent of the popular vote. But whatever happens in November, history will record that after Sept. 11, Bush sustained Dwight Eisenhower-like approval ratings longer than Eisenhower himself.

Lyndon Johnson, as beleaguered a leader as any, said outright what the others in his exclusive club must have felt: "The presidency has made every man who occupied it, no matter how small, bigger than he was; and no matter how big, not big enough for its demands."

The history of the office weighs on them, as do their own expectations of being the right kind of president. "They carry this vision with them; they're not outside of it," said Harry Rubenstein, curator of the Smithsonian exhibit "The American Presidency: A Glorious Burden."

Every four years, the voters make their judgments: Is he or isn't he? The standards are not immutable.

Edmund Muskie's 1972 bid faltered after he appeared to shed a single tear in public. But when Bush choked back tears in the Oval Office after terrorists crashed planes into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and a remote Pennsylvania field, no one questioned his manliness.

Elizabeth Dole's run in 2000 and the tireless speculation about Hillary Rodham Clinton's ambitions have broadened the gender parameters.

All those "Deaniacs" saw something presidential in Howard Dean. However, when the former Vermont governor wanted to take his disintegrating campaign on to Wisconsin after his screeching concession speech in Iowa, which even Dean conceded was not presidential, labor leader Gerald McEntee called him "nuts."

Today's candidates engage in salesmanship that would have appalled earlier presidents. Kerry was photographed bowling with oranges on his campaign plane, a way of humanizing himself for voters. George Washington, on the other hand, "icily removed" an associate's arm from his shoulder after he "greeted Washington like an old drinking partner," historian H.W. Brands wrote.

"Every conceivable kind of man has been president," said David McCullough, author of "Truman" and "John Adams." The presidency is so impossibly complex that perhaps no one is of the right caliber, he said.

So how have we done in matching candidate to job?

"I'd say the batting average is well over .500," McCullough said. "But it's not a foolproof intuition."

Herbert Hoover, as McCullough noted, was "a five-star success" in all he did. But he failed a country beset by the Great Depression. Harry Truman, in his loud Hawaiian shirts, was roundly thought to be too small for the job, even vulgar. But he surprised America.

Calvin Coolidge, sporting a 10-gallon hat, rode horseback up Mount Rushmore in August 1927 to dedicate "a cornerstone laid by the hand of the Almighty." But the presidents immortalized there were not gods.

"Because they were human," McCullough said, "they had the capacity to do the unselfish thing, to do the noble thing, to rise to the occasion under extreme adversity and to think of the best interests of the nation."

Whether a candidate is presidential mirrors the debate over presidential greatness: One concerns hopes, the other a job completed.

Lou Cannon's biography of Ronald Reagan is subtitled "The Role of a Lifetime," alluding to Reagan's Hollywood career. But the analogy offers a helpful framework for considering other presidents, too.

"It was commonly said that he looked and acted like a president," presidential scholar Fred Greenstein said of the 40th president. "He came in after the public was underwhelmed by Jimmy Carter and Gerry Ford, and had bottomed out on the Nixon and Johnson presidencies."

Reagan's early political idol, Franklin Roosevelt, also looked the part. So did Woodrow Wilson; his closet, still immaculately kept in his S Street house in Washington, testifies to that. The 6-foot-tall, perfect size 42 president was pronounced the best-dressed man at the Paris Peace Conference ending World War I. The ability to convey this stature is what Greenstein, author of "The Presidential Difference," means when he notes talk that "Kerry looks ready to be put on Mount Rushmore."

"I think gravitas is the common denominator," Greenstein says.

Harry Rubenstein suspects what we're really looking for is the mythic George Washington, a strong personality who has "weathered the storm."

To these qualities, McCullough adds common sense and the ability to work hard, do one's best, and own up to mistakes -- as well as a talent for language that, if not eloquent, is forceful and believable.

We want presidents to relish the job. Theodore Roosevelt did. "The country loved that about him, and because he was having a good time they felt they were having a good time," McCullough said.

Bush loves being president, too; he has unabashedly said so. In this contest, he's running on his stewardship of the country as a wartime president, while Kerry brings his reputation as a Vietnam war hero and his Senate experience.


Wednesday, March 10, 2004 - 12:56

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Ross H. Garber, counsel to the office of the governor of Connecticut, in the Hartford Currant (March 7, 2004):

The legislature's Select Committee of Inquiry bears a weighty and historic constitutional responsibility. No governor or any other official has ever been impeached in Connecticut. Indeed, impeachment of a sitting governor is an extraordinarily rare event in U.S. history - only one governor has been impeached in this country in the past 70 years.

Impeachment is employed so rarely because it represents the gravest possible step for the legislature. In fact, impeachment in Connecticut is more serious than in other jurisdictions, because in Connecticut the governor is temporarily removed from office if he is impeached. He returns only if and when the Senate acquits him.

Thus, in Connecticut, impeachment vetoes a democratic election and severely disrupts the ordinary balance between the branches of government. Because impeachment exacts such a heavy toll - on the state, on the public and on the Connecticut Constitution - it must not be used except when absolutely necessary. As the committee undertakes its investigation, it should recognize what scholars have concluded and history has confirmed: Only serious criminal wrongdoing or similarly egregious misconduct related to the governor's official duties justifies impeachment.

History reveals a clear trend toward reserving impeachment for situations presenting clear proof of the most serious misconduct. In the only gubernatorial impeachment in the past 70 years, as in all federal impeachments during this period, there were allegations of serious criminal wrongdoing. Most modern impeachment proceedings began only after the official was formally charged with a crime; not one was based solely on allegations of dishonesty or ethical misconduct.

Nowhere is this pattern clearer than in prior impeachments of state governors. In the most recent example, 16 years ago, the Arizona Legislature began impeachment proceedings against Gov. Evan Mecham only after a grand jury indicted him. In fact, putting aside a few impeachments spawned by partisan politics or extraordinarily tumultuous times, no governor in the 20th century has been impeached except after criminal indictment.

The two modern experiences with presidential impeachment also confirm this principle. The impeachment proceedings against both President Nixon and President Clinton were based on allegations of criminal wrongdoing. Moreover, even though the House found that President Clinton had committed crimes, the Senate refused to remove him from office because, according to several senators, the criminal allegations, even if true, did not rise to the high threshold required for impeachment.

History further demonstrates that impeachment should not occur unless the legislature is certain that the charges are actually true. A relatively high standard of proof, namely" clear and convincing evidence," serves that purpose. That standard of proof was used in the Arizona Senate trial of Gov. Mecham. It also guided the U.S. House of Representatives in weighing the impeachment of President Nixon, and it was cited by several senators in the Clinton proceedings.

There are good reasons for refusing to impeach an elected official except on clear and convincing proof of the gravest wrongdoing. Our Constitution creates a system in which the governor is elected every four years and serves out his term regardless of his popularity or the public's confidence in his ability to lead. Connecticut, like the rest of the United States, rejected the British model of government, which allows the parliament to eject a chief executive on a"vote of no confidence." We intentionally have no California-style recall provision. In our system, a governor may not be tossed from office because of sagging polls or even because the public no longer regards him as trustworthy.


Tuesday, March 9, 2004 - 21:38

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Charlie Cook, in the NYT (March 9, 2004)

After the initial stir, Ralph Nader's entry into the presidential campaign has been widely dismissed as the folly of an over-the-hill egomaniac. While Mr. Nader's critics might be right about his character, a look at the current polls and the election results from 2000 show that his independent candidacy cannot be ignored. And while I agree with the conventional wisdom that he will get far fewer votes than the 2.7 percent of the electorate he received four years ago, the race between President Bush and John Kerry may very well be so close that even a declawed Ralph Nader could tip the election to the incumbent.

Remember that Mr. Nader, running as the Green Party nominee, cost Al Gore two states, Florida and New Hampshire, either of which would have given the vice president a victory in 2000. In Florida, which George W. Bush carried by 537 votes, Mr. Nader received nearly 100,000 votes. In New Hampshire, which Mr. Bush won by 7,211 votes, Mr. Nader pulled in more than 22,000. National exit polls by the Voter News Service showed that had Mr. Nader not run, 47 percent of his supporters would have voted for Al Gore, while only 21 percent would have voted for Mr. Bush.

Recent national polls suggest that a similar dynamic may play out this time around. While surveys that test a two-way contest between President Bush and Senator Kerry generally show the senator ahead by a few points, those that add Mr. Nader to the mix put the race at a dead heat — or they give the president a narrow edge. A national survey last week by The Associated Press and Ipsos Public Affairs showed the president garnering 46 percent, Senator Kerry 45 percent and Mr. Nader 6 percent.

That poll, which was taken only a week and a half after Mr. Nader dropped his bombshell, likely overstates the support he will carry into November. After all, the circumstances are very different from what they were in 2000. Back then, many moderates and liberals were ambivalent about the Clinton-Gore administration; what's more, George W. Bush was well-positioned as a relatively unthreatening" compassionate conservative." To the independent-minded voters on the left who fled to Mr. Nader, the choice between Mr. Bush and Mr. Gore just wasn't all that stark.

Today, Mr. Bush is a far more polarizing figure, with former Nader supporters among his most vociferous detractors. My hunch is that some of the most miserable people in America are the 97,488 Floridians who voted for Ralph Nader in 2000. Thus it seems reasonable that, nationwide, Mr. Nader will garner just half or even a third of his support from last time.

Even so, however, he may still be able to tilt the election to the Republicans.


Tuesday, March 9, 2004 - 18:21

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Howard Fineman, in Newsweek (March 5, 2004):

It was Henry Ford who said “history is bunk” as he was busy reinventing American industry a century ago. Well, Ford is the man to see about this presidential campaign. So far, patterns of the past haven't predicted a thing, and it's going to remain that way right up to Election Day. For, based on history, neither George W. Bush nor John F. Kerry has a chance.

  Let's look at the patterns that have been shattered already, in the nominating season just ended. In modern times — since the advent of contested primaries — the major parties always had nominated the guy who collected the most cash and who led in the Gallup Poll by the end of the year before the voting began.

  This time around, of course, that guy was the unstoppable Gov. Howard Dean. He had raised an unheard of $40 million and led in all the national polls — not to mention the local polls in key “early” states, such as Iowa and New Hampshire.

  Poof! He was gone, with a triumphant John Kerry standing in his place.

Second Pattern Shattered

  Kerry's rise shattered the second pattern: that the Iowa caucuses aren't that important or predictive. Winners there — people such as George H.W. Bush in 1980, Dick Gephardt and Bob Dole in 1988 — tended, on balance, not to go on to win the nomination. This time, in retrospect, it is clear that Iowa was the ballgame. Kerry and his strategists bet it all on Iowa, and they were right.

  Pattern No. 3, a corollary of No. 2, was the Inevitable Late Challenger. Especially in the Democratic nominating race, the historians pointed out, someone always arises late in the game to challenge the front-runner. It's the way the primary rules are set up, we were told. Past examples: Jerry Brown in 1976, Gary Hart hanging on to score some late victories in 1984, Bill Bradley in 2000.

  It didn't really happen this time. Sen. John Edwards inherited the role of Late Challenger, but it was too late, and he had no staying power, and he was out by the close of business on Super Tuesday. No Brown, no Hart, no Bradley.

  So what are the historical “rules” waiting to be ignored in the general election now begun?

  One of them is that the Democrats can't win unless a Southerner tops the ticket, and/or unless that ticket can win at least five Southern and border states.

  Kerry himself scoffs at this notion. He thinks he can win in November without a single Southern state. But look at the pattern and you will see it: the shared regional roots and risings of Lyndon Johnson, Jimmy Carter and Bill Clinton. Even with the advent of Republican power in the South, the Democrats can't afford to concede it, or so history would seem to say. The last Northern Democrat to win the presidency was John F. Kennedy in 1960 — and even he, in the days before the solid GOP South, won six Southern states.

  History lesson No 2: Governors, not members of Congress, get elected. The last sitting senator to win the presidency was, again, Kennedy, and he was a rarity. In recent years, a roster of senators and former senators — George McGovern, Bob Dole, Al Gore — ran and lost. Dole even quit the Senate, to no avail.

  With no Southern base, a New Englander by birth and breeding, a sitting senator of 20 years standing, Kerry — based on history — would seem to have no chance.

  Except that he does, of course — if for no other reason than the history, in some ways, is against Bush.

The 50 Percent Approval Factor

  General Election Rule No. 2: Incumbent presidents lose if their job-performance numbers dip below 50 percent as the campaign season begins. Bush's is hovering at that level, depending on which polling survey you watch.

  The corollary: No incumbent president can win re-election if the Dow Jones and the employment numbers are lower than they were when he was sworn in. In terms of job losses, Bush is in a category so far occupied by only one other GOP incumbent: Herbert Hoover, and we all know what happened to him. The economy is picking up, but there still is no surge in hiring. It's highly doubtful that, at least in terms of hourly payroll, there will be more people working in the fall of 2004 than there were in January of 2001. Will bragging about the “right direction” of the economy be enough? We'll see.

  One way or the other, history is going to be bunk — again.


Monday, March 8, 2004 - 23:36

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Attoney Joshua Spivak, in the Washington Post (March 6, 2004):

Now that Sen. John Kerry has locked up the Democratic presidential nomination, the question turns to his selection of a running mate. Among the names being discussed are Dick Gephardt, John Edwards and Tom Vilsack -- a congressman, a senator and a governor. Do those job descriptions affect their chances? Maybe. While there are few formal selection criteria for a vice presidential nominee, past choices have historically followed a little-noticed pattern: Candidates are almost always drawn from the ranks of federal officials -- current or former senators, congressmen or Cabinet members.

In contrast to the presidency, where four of the past five incumbents served as chief executive of their states, governors are rarely selected as running mates. Since California's Earl Warren in 1948, then-Maryland Gov. Spiro Agnew, Richard Nixon's choice in 1968, has been the only state official nominated for the vice presidency by the Republican Party. Gerald Ford chose a long-serving former governor of New York, Nelson Rockefeller, to be his vice president when he succeeded Nixon in 1974 but replaced Rockefeller with Sen. Robert Dole on the 1976 ticket.

As for the Democrats, you have to go all the way back to 1924 to find their last gubernatorial choice for vice president -- Nebraska's Charles Bryan, brother of the"Great Commoner," William Jennings Bryan. Edmund Muskie, the Democratic nominee in 1968, and Joseph Robinson in 1928 had served as governors, but both had established significant reputations in the Senate by the time they were tapped for the nomination.

The reason behind the preference for federal officials is not obvious. Ever since John Adams got stuck with ideological and electoral opponent Thomas Jefferson as his vice president in 1796 (under the pre-12th-Amendment rules), choosing a running mate has been critical to presidential politics. But while vice presidents were judged important for electoral reasons, they rarely did much during the president's term, living up to the title"his superfluous excellency" that Adams had bestowed on the job. In recent years, vice presidents have had greater political stature, but they still have not been chosen based on their fitness for office. Rather, selections tend to reflect a presidential candidate's wish to counter a weakness, such as inexperience in a certain area, or to lend ideological, geographical or generational balance to the ticket.

Sometimes that is a good reason for favoring a federal official, as when presidential nominees whose experience is limited to the state level choose running mates with a background in Washington or foreign affairs. Such thinking explains Jimmy Carter's choice of Sen. Walter Mondale in 1976 and George W. Bush's choice of former defense secretary and congressman Dick Cheney. But even nominees with wide national experience have mostly chosen current or former federal officials as running mates. In 2000, Al Gore's shortlist was composed exclusively of senators.

The most logical explanation for the preference for federal officials may simply be that their positions give them a broader public profile. Committee hearings and the ability to sponsor and support bills affecting a nationwide audience make many federal lawmakers household names, something most governors never achieve. Cabinet officials, similarly, operate on the national stage, and they have the additional advantage of providing a connection with the policies of the presidents they served.

A corollary to the wider profile is the message to interest groups implied by the choice of an elected federal official. During a typical congressional session, a lawmaker casts well-publicized votes on hot-button issues such as abortion, gun control or the environment, which may not come up during a typical governor's term. By picking as his running mate someone with a favorable record on specific issues, the presidential nominee is able to reassure wavering voters that he has their interests at heart.

Will this pattern continue? Besides Vilsack of Iowa, governors Janet Napolitano of Arizona, Mark Warner of Virginia and, especially, Bill Richardson of New Mexico also have been touted as running mates for Kerry. Will one of them get the nod? Richardson, with his experience as a congressman, U.N. ambassador and Cabinet secretary, may be able to buck the trend, but history suggests that none of them should stay up at night waiting for that phone call.


Monday, March 8, 2004 - 23:31

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Jamie Reno , Michael Isikoff and Evan Thomas; With T. Trent Gegax, in Newsweek (March 8, 2004):

The swift boats, like the one John Kerry captained, were sitting ducks. Hiding in the dense jungle along the riverbanks of the Mekong Delta, the Viet Cong could open up on the Americans with machine guns, mortars and rockets--and vanish before the Americans could effectively shoot back. So the U.S. military adjusted, dropping tons of herbicide on the foliage to strip the enemy of its cover. "They just told us they sprayed something to kill the bushes," recalls Mike Medeiros, who served with Kerry aboard PCF (Patrol Craft Fast) 94 in the winter of 1969. "It looked like a moonscape... You saw skeletal remains of trees everywhere. It was like, whatever they're using is some serious stuff."

Some of Kerry's men, contacted last week by NEWSWEEK, don't recall being directly sprayed, or saw planes or choppers dropping the herbicides in the distance. Other Swift Boat crews patrolling near Kerry's boat say they were doused. But everyone, including Kerry, realizes today that they fought in a highly toxic environment. "We know they used defoliants, at least I knew they used defoliants, because it was all around us," says Kerry. "We'd often see the C-130s flying over us--they'd come down along the river and drop this stuff on us," recalls Wade Sanders, who served with Kerry in the delta, on different boats but sometimes on the same patrols along the Cambodian border. "The wind would carry the mist right onto us. But they didn't tell us what it was. We thought it was mosquito spray." The "stuff" was Agent Orange, which, over time, can be lethal to humans as well as to most other living things. "We used to bathe in those rivers and swim in the water to cool off," says Sanders. "Agent Orange was everywhere, all around us, but no one ever told us not to go in the water." Over the years, says Sanders, he and Kerry "have had many discussions about our exposure to Agent Orange."

In his first public comments about his experience with Agent Orange, Kerry told NEWSWEEK, "I don't think I saw as much as he [Sanders] did, but I saw some of it, and I know we were in the water... That was just the nature of life on a boat down there. It was a reality." But, Kerry said, "I've never really thought about it... I don't think about it in a personal sense."

Agent Orange was one of the many tragedies of Vietnam . It may have killed or sickened, via long-incubating cancers and nerve disorders, thousands of American soldiers and sailors (not to mention many more Vietnamese). The government, which once avidly drenched the delta with the poison, has awakened to its dangers. "The environmental hazard of the battlefield--that could be equally as deadly as a bullet wound," said Anthony J. Principi, secretary of Veterans Affairs last year. "We learned that the hard way after Vietnam with Agent Orange." Adm. Elmo Zumwalt, the charismatic Navy commander who ordered the spraying of the Mekong Delta, became a crusader for vets suffering from diseases related to Agent Orange. When Zumwalt's son--like John Kerry, a Swift Boat captain--died of lymphoma in 1988 at the age of 42, Adm. Zumwalt came to blame his son's death on the Agent Orange campaign he had commanded. Kerry, who always preferred action over personal revelation, has dealt with the tragedy his own way. Kerry's health could become a political football (though it's worth remembering that Dick Cheney's heart condition raises questions about the Republican ticket). Ever the stoic, often a loner, Kerry is likely to tough it out. In his interview with NEWSWEEK, his tone was calm, unperturbed.

As a U.S. senator, Kerry has fought for years to help fellow veterans suffering from cancer, nerve and skin disorders and other diseases linked by medical science to chemical dioxins contained in Agent Orange. He was a chief sponsor of the 1991 legislation that now affords some 10,000 exposed veterans up to $2,300 a month for various disabilities. Kerry recently tried unsuccessfully to help Tommy (Trees) Forrest, who served on different boats but in the same combat area, to win benefits for cancers growing on his liver. "I personally observed the spraying of Agent Orange," Kerry wrote in a letter to Veterans Affairs on June 25, 2003 . "I hereby testify with absolute certainty that Thomas G. Forrest and anyone else in that area of operations were definitely exposed to Agent Orange." On the same day, he wrote the same testimonial for one of his closest friends, Giles Whitcomb, a Naval Intelligence officer who served with Kerry in the delta and died last year of lymphoma.

Kerry himself was successfully operated on last year to have his cancerous prostate removed. Did Agent Orange put him at risk? Is he still at risk because of his exposure to the toxic chemical? "I presumed and I still presume, it is my belief that my particular cancer was hereditary and part of my genes," Kerry told NEWSWEEK. "It's gone now. I'm in perfect health, and I'm not concerned about something." Kerry's father died of prostate cancer at the age of 85, and doctors often look first at hereditary factors to predict a patient's risk. About one in six American men gets prostate cancer; roughly a quarter of them between the ages of 55 and 64 (Kerry is 60). The survival rate for those, like Kerry, whose cancer is caught early and undergo surgery is very high.

Still, prostate cancer is one of roughly a dozen diseases that the VA now considers "presumptive" evidence of exposure to Agent Orange. In 1996, the VA began compensating any vet diagnosed with prostate cancer on the ground that it may have been caused by Agent Orange. According to the VA, Kerry himself is entitled to receive Agent Orange benefits, but the wealthy Kerry has not asked for them.

It is impossible to judge the health risks to Kerry or any other veteran, says Dr. David Tollerud, who has overseen several government-sponsored studies on the health effects of Agent Orange, without knowing how often they were exposed, and how directly. A team of researchers at Columbia University has developed a computer model that can be used with detailed military records to assess precise exposure levels. To prepare such an assessment for Kerry, "we'd need the daily log of his Swift Boat," says Jeanne Stellman, a Columbia public-health professor who is overseeing the study. It is significant, she says, that Kerry was in the Mekong Delta, "the most heavily sprayed area in Vietnam , particularly in 1968 and 1969." On the other hand, Spellman cautions, from a purely statistical viewpoint, Kerry stands a greater risk of getting assassinated than getting cancer as a result of his exposure to Agent Orange.

The evidence on the level of Kerry's exposure is unclear. Jim Wasser, Kerry's second in command aboard PCF-44, recalls seeing Agent Orange clouds in the distance, not raining down directly. "But air currents took it a long ways," he says. Medeiros, who served with Kerry on a different boat, PCF-94, doesn't recall seeing any spray. (Both Wasser and Medeiros are healthy; "I look at every day as a bonus," says Wasser.) Forrest, who was on boats patrolling the same rivers as Kerry (including PCF-98, the same boat as Wade Sanders), recalls, "They'd fly overhead and release it in a mist. The bad thing about it was we got fish off the Vietnamese. We'd pick up wood and barbecue and that stuff was coated with Agent Orange. We'd bathe in the water, and Agent Orange dioxins aren't soluble." Kerry recalled to NEWSWEEK, "I'm not sure that I remember a specific incident of being doused, but I do remember that's what they were doing."

Some who have spent time with Kerry believe that he is haunted by the subject of Agent Orange. Historian Douglas Brinkley remembers getting a phone call from Kerry last December after the senator had just finished reading the galleys of Brinkley's new book, "Tour of Duty: John Kerry and the Vietnam War." One of Kerry's only criticisms, recalls Brinkley, was that "I didn't write enough about Agent Orange... He was obsessed with Agent Orange." Brinkley speculates that Kerry has been affected by the tales of woe from delta vets who are just starting to feel the sometimes delayed impact of Agent Orange. He was particularly moved by the recent death of his buddy Giles Whitcomb, a Harvard grad whom Kerry befriended in training and stayed close to all the way through the war (they even double-dated). "The devastating effects of Agent Orange are just coming to fruition. When John talks about these veterans, I think it's visceral," says Brinkley. "There's something going on there, and it may underneath it all be personal--like, 'I may have been doused, too'."

Kerry denies that he broods at all over Agent Orange. He has not released his medical records, but he promised to release a summary: "I'd be happy to have my doctor release something... I just had a checkup about three weeks ago. My blood is perfect. My EKG was perfect."


Friday, March 5, 2004 - 21:16

SOURCE: ()

Dave Kopel, Paul Gallant & Joanne D. Eisen, in National Review (March 3, 2004):

Sri Lanka is technically in a state of civil war. It is just barely held together by a tenuous ceasefire that is splintering day by day, threatening to dash the hopes of a country that yearns for peace. Last month, President Chandrika Kumaratunga dissolved parliament and called for new elections to be held on April 2 — almost four years earlier than expected. Kumaratunga thereby sabotaged what had once been promising negotiations between the government of Sri Lanka (controlled by the island's majority Buddhist population) and the Tamil Tigers (a Hindu minority). A canny politician, Kumaratunga would not have taken such as bold step unless she expected to win. This is, apparently, a move toward intensifying the civil war.

Sri Lanka's constitution provides for both a prime minister and a president; when the two belong to philosophically opposed political parties, the condition is termed" cohabitation." It seems it was just cohabitation that halted the peace process that might have ended 20 years of civil war.

Sri Lanka's Prime Minister Ranil Wickramasinghe and his party have been willing to make compromises in order to achieve a lasting peace. On the other hand, President Kumaratunga and her party, the People's Alliance, have resisted concessions to the Tamil Tiger insurgency. If the new elections give decisive power to Kumaratunga, the scene will be set for nullification of the 2002 ceasefire. Kumaratunga is officially committed to the original ceasefire, but her allies are now complaining that"the ceasefire with Tamil Tiger rebels threatens national security."

But that depends on who defines"security."

Located 22 miles off the southern tip of India, the island nation of Sri Lanka (population 19 million) is approximately the size of West Virginia. Its capital, Colombo, lies on the southwest coast. The nation was called Ceylon when it gained independence from Great Britain in 1948; the name was changed to the Democratic Socialist Republic of Sri Lanka (which means"resplendent island") when it adopted a new constitution in 1972. It remains an independent member of the British Commonwealth of Nations.

Ceylon became a British colony in 1796. But long before the British arrived, the country consisted of two separate cultures, each with its own language, religion, and customs. The majority is composed of Sinhalese, who live in the west, south, and center of the island. Their name means"of the lions," and they are primarily Buddhist.

Tamils (primarily Hindu) make up a smaller portion of the population, and have traditionally lived in the east and north. Many Tamils from India were relocated into Sinhalese areas by the British during the early 19th century, nearly doubling the number of Tamils on the island. They were employed as cheap laborers on the tea plantations. At the time of independence, there were about 4.6 million Sinhalese and 1.5 million Tamils.

When the British withdrew from Ceylon, they left democratic institutions and a British-style parliamentary form of government. What transpired soon afterward is a perfect example of how democracy does not always produce stability or equity.

Almost from the moment of independence, Sri Lanka's democratically elected government discriminated against the Tamil minority. For example, the Citizenship Act of 1948 disenfranchised the descendants of Indian Tamil laborers brought in by the British, people who had been living in Ceylon for more than a century. A million Tamils were given a choice: accept citizenship in a foreign country, India, or live as strangers in their own land. For decades afterward, these people lived in limbo .

Finally, in 2003 the Sri Lankan government relented , and allowed them to apply for citizenship.

The 1948 Citizenship Act increased Sinhalese control of government relative to the Tamils. In 1947, the Sinhalese controlled parliament by 67 percent; by 1952 they had 73 percent. The Sinhalese gains paved the way for additional discriminatory legislation against the Tamils. ...


Friday, March 5, 2004 - 18:43