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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Liam Callanan, the author of The Cloud Atlas, a novel, in Slate (June 16, 2004):

... what is at stake each time we erase the news is not just the nation's security but, more important, our history.

And that's why it's helpful to turn to history for an object lesson, a case of wartime censorship where the issue was much less murky and the results—at first glance, at least—unambiguous. You've likely heard nothing about it. And that, of course, is the problem.

The censored story was one of World War II's oddest, and it involved a fleet of handmade balloons sent east by the empire of Japan. Improbable though it may sound, from late 1944 through the spring of 1945, the Japanese launched more than 9,000 balloons from their nation's eastern shores. Filled not with mild-mannered hot air but extremely flammable hydrogen and armed with incendiary and antipersonnel bombs, the balloons rode the jet stream across the Pacific Ocean for several days before landing throughout North America.

No, really. Throughout North America. From Alaska to Mexico and as far east as suburban Detroit. Perhaps even more incredible, the balloons themselves were not made of any high-tech, weather-hardened fabric but simple paper panels held together with potato glue.

An extraordinary story, right? Irresistible to any reporter and not just because of the balloons themselves, but because of their potential: If a balloon could carry incendiary bombs across the Pacific, without detection or advance warning, what else might travel aboard? Saboteurs? Biotoxins?

Sure enough, stories began to appear. The day after New Year's, 1945, for example, the New York Herald-Tribune carried a brief story about one of the first balloons to arrive. After that, however, even as the balloons were crash-landing at the rate of two or three per day, the nation's media remained largely mum. That's because on Jan. 4, two days after the Herald-Tribune ran its story, the Office of Censorship asked the nation's print and broadcast journalists to report absolutely nothing more about the balloon bombs. And no one did.

The way the rest of the story plays out proves problematic for foes and supporters alike of wartime censorship. For those who oppose censorship, it's hard to argue against the outcome: Throughout the spring of 1945, the Japanese carefully monitored the American press for mention of their balloons. They found none. And since supply routes and launch sites were getting hammered by an ever-closer American military, Japanese authorities finally decided they could not keep up their unusual campaign absent any evidence of success.

Yet, unbeknownst to them, or virtually anyone outside the U.S. government, the balloons were proving successful. One balloon, for example, managed to cut through power lines leading from the Bonneville Dam on the Columbia River. A resulting power outage that was quickly restored may sound insignificant; however, that particular dam provided power to a factory in Hanford, Wash., which was secretly manufacturing plutonium for use in the atomic bombs destined for Japan. When the power went out, the plant's emergency safeguards—which had never been tested—were suddenly called upon to prevent the reactor from melting down. Plant officials held their breath; everything worked as it was supposed to (though it took three days to resume full operations).

In the end, America's best defense may have been the weather. Designed to start fires—which would deplete natural resources and divert human ones—the balloons plummeted into the Pacific Northwest during its wettest months.

On May 22, 1945, the government suddenly changed its mind about the ban on press coverage. The War and Navy departments issued a joint statement announcing, in part,"It is the view of the departments that the possible saving of even one American life through precautionary measures would more than offset any military gain accruing to the enemy from the mere knowledge that some of his balloons actually have arrived on this side of the Pacific."

This sounds reasonable and prudent, if a bit tardy. But there's a reason the departments suddenly came around to this way of thinking, and this is where the balloon campaign becomes a troubling case study for censorship's supporters.

Seventeen days earlier, on May 5, the Rev. Archie Mitchell and his pregnant wife, Elsie, took a group of children from his church on an outing to Oregon's Gearhart Mountain. Mitchell let the kids out of the car before he went off to park. His wife got out, too, to supervise. Mitchell found a spot up the road and pulled over. As he was getting out, he saw his charges clustered around a large white object on the forest floor. One of the kids tugged at it.

The bomb exploded, killing all the children and Mrs. Mitchell. They were the only fatalities on the U.S. mainland due to enemy action during World War II, and though a marker remembers them on Gearhart Mountain today, they're mostly overlooked, as they were by the War and Navy departments in that May 22 statement, which made no mention of the fatalities, only that"Japanese free balloons are known to have landed or dropped explosives in isolated localities. No property damage has resulted."

That was technically true: Mitchell had parked his car well clear of the blast.

Should we censor the news in wartime? No question: There are times when discretion trumps dissemination. But people need to be told more than just,"Be wary." Be wary of what? A particular methodology or place, or a suspicious object, like a briefcase—or a balloon?

Case in point: It's estimated that 1,000 of those World War II balloons reached North America. To this day, only 286 have been found. Here's hoping the next hiker who finds one has heard the news.

What does the battle of the balloons have to do with today's war on terrorism (other than the bizarre coincidence that the Mitchell tragedy occurred near tiny Bly, Ore., the same spot where recently arrested Muslim cleric Abu Hamza al-Masri is accused of trying to set up a terrorist training camp)?

Actually, the balloon battle may have less to do with us today than it does with citizens, soldiers, reverends, and children 60 years from now. Because as compelling a case as the balloon story may be for the virtues of wartime censorship, what's troubling is not that Americans in 1945 didn't know about these balloons; it's that most Americans today don't. The balloon bombs were erased not only from our national awareness, but from our collective history. We believe it never happened, just as our children might have been led to believe Abu Ghraib never happened....


Friday, June 18, 2004 - 04:32

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John S.D. Eisenhower, in the International Herald Tribune (June 6, 2004):

The 60th anniversary of the Allied landings in Normandy, on the day known in common parlance as D-Day, was once again an occasion to pause and contemplate its significance. Like all Americans, I am proud of the achievements of my fellow soldiers but aware of the ordeal they underwent. To this day, I view those men with respect bordering on awe.

To me, as the son of Dwight D. Eisenhower, the general who commanded that invasion, it carries an added dimension. I find it difficult to believe, even after all these years, that my own father was such a historic figure. Sixty years of repetitive observances of D-Day have not dimmed my wonder....

I am asked time and again, "What would your father think if he were alive today?"

At this point, I must emphasize that I cannot with any confidence give an opinion regarding what my father would make of today's scene. He was unpredictable when examining any new problem because he always viewed it in its entirety, totally free of thumb rules and largely independent of tradition. More obviously, the world has changed drastically during the 43 years since my father left the presidency in 1961....

The most fundamental conviction that the period of Ike's command in Europe and the Mediterranean imprinted on his mind was the cruelty, wastefulness and stupidity of war. He saw at firsthand how war destroyed cities, killed innocent people (in which I include most of the participating soldiers), wiped out national economies and tore up the structure of civilizations. Its wastefulness cut him to the bone, and its specter never left him. As a result, as president he kept the military budget as small as was consistent with the safety of the nation. He expressed his convictions eloquently in April 1953, about three months after his inauguration as the 34th president of the United States:

"Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed….

"The cost of one modern heavy bomber is this: a modern brick school in more than 30 cities.

"It is two electric power plants, each serving a town of 60,000 population.

"It is two fine, fully equipped hospitals….

"We pay for a single fighter plane with a half million bushels of wheat. We pay for a single destroyer with new homes that could have housed 8,000 people."

Not surprisingly, the war that included D-Day had made a pacifist of the man who bore the responsibility, its supreme commander.

As I consider the effect that D-Day and the war in Europe had on my father, I am struck by the degree to which it convinced him of the value of allies.

...

With his detestation of war as a means of settling international disputes, Ike applauded the formation of the United Nations in 1945, even though he had no hand in its formation. Leaving the army in 1948 for private life, he was recalled to active duty in early 1951 to organize the military forces of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization when the military threat from the east seemed to become imminent. In his stay in Paris, Ike developed a strong belief in NATO that he never lost.

It so happens that I was witness to one example of Ike's concern for the opinions and attitudes of his allies during his presidency. In September 1959, Premier Nikita Khrushchev of the Soviet Union served up an ultimatum to the Western allies to get out of West Berlin or else. Ike chose to negotiate while rejecting the ultimatum. In the course of the ensuing talks, a mix-up in signals in the State Department resulted in an unintended invitation for Khrushchev to visit the United States alone, not in the company of all the nations involved in the current crisis.

That unilateral invitation may or may not have turned out to be a good thing, but the incident illustrated Ike's concern that his allies - now Britain, France and the newly emerging West Germany - be assured that he had no intention of representing their interests in his forthcoming conferences with Khrushchev. So Ike took some of his personal staff and boarded a new Boeing 707 on its maiden voyage as Air Force One to visit Konrad Adenauer in Bonn, Harold Macmillan in Britain and de Gaulle in Paris. With all of them he conducted frank talks, and Ike's allies were reassured. He would have it no other way....

Ike totally disapproved of "preventive war," and that conviction was put to the test early in his presidency. Some time in the early 1950s the Soviet development of the hydrogen bomb and the means to deliver it caused many Americans, some of Ike's advisers among them, to advocate launching a preemptive strike against the Soviet Union while the United States still enjoyed a preponderance of atomic power and the means of delivering atomic weapons. It would be preferable, these people argued, to remove the Soviet weapons of mass destruction. No legal or moral justification was required. A few million Americans would be killed, of course, but a far fewer number than if we waited and allowed the "Evil Empire" (not Ike's term) to strike first.

Ike would have none of it. Throughout his presidency he combined a policy of maintaining a military deterrent to war while at the same time extending the hand of friendship. The uneasy peace between the United States and the Soviet Union - the cold war - continued for nearly 50 years. It was expensive and it was dangerous, but civilization survived....

Many of Ike's policies were different from those we see being followed today. But he was the first to admit that situations change, and the policies followed in one generation might be used as guides to future action but never rules. How he would view today's world scene, I repeat that I do not know.

But I wonder.


Thursday, June 17, 2004 - 07:17

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George Melloan, in the WSJ (June 15, 2004):

... some of the same people who were attacking Ronald Reagan in the 1980s are still around doing the same thing to President Bush. Teddy Kennedy was calling Ronald Reagan a warmonger in 1984, thus feeding useful nuggets to KGB propagandists; he today chortles that Iraq is President Bush's"Vietnam." Senator John Kerry, now on the campaign trail accusing the president of irresponsibility, was similarly scornful of President Reagan's moves to resist Soviet and Cuban efforts to grab Central America. He called the president's well-founded fears of an invasion of Honduras by the Nicaraguan Sandinistas"ridiculous."

In a recent newspaper article lauding Senator Kerry, Arthur Schlesinger, Jr.— that well-known chronicler of Democratic Party triumphs and Republican failures— wanted to make sure that George W. gets the blame if things go wrong in Iraq. He wrote that the war"was a matter of presidential choice, not of national necessity."

In 1982, Mr. Schlesinger came back from a trip to Moscow to report that there was fat chance that Ronald Reagan could push the Soviet Union into a social and economic collapse. Things were looking bright there, he said, admiringly. But of course that is exactly what Reagan did by touching off an arms race that overtaxed the sluggish, muscle-bound communist system.

I'm indebted for these recollections to Peter Schweizer's excellent book, published in 2002 by Doubleday, titled"Reagan's War." As he points out, Democrats were not the only Reagan doubters. A majority of the president's own cabinet was against the massive $32 billion military-budget increase he launched two weeks after entering the Oval Office. He replied that his primary responsibility was for the security of the U.S. and that the arms buildup would go ahead.

Former Republican presidents Gerald Ford and Richard Nixon also thought Mr. Reagan was spending too much on defense. Republican Senator Charles Percy of Illinois, a former corporate boy wonder (Bell & Howell), took it upon himself to counsel Soviet Ambassador Anatoly Dobrynin not to"play into Reagan's hands" by taking a hard-line position.

The stakes were high in those Cold War years. As Mr. Schweizer recounts, President-elect Reagan just before his 1981 inauguration was briefed on the procedures to be followed if the Soviets launched a nuclear attack. Because Soviet missile submarines, called"boomers," were cruising in the Atlantic not far off the American coast, the president would have to decide how to respond to an attack within a space of six to eight minutes. An officer carrying the"football," a briefcase with the codes for launching a U.S. counterstrike, was standing nearby as Mr. Reagan took his oath of office.

In harking back to those years, it seems clear that Ronald Reagan was no more free of political adversaries than George W. Bush today. The idea that he got along better than Mr. Bush with Europe doesn't hold up to close scrutiny either. His support for a NATO plan to deploy Pershing II rockets and cruise missiles in Germany to counter Soviet SS-20 intermediate missiles trained on Europe provoked protest riots in Rome, Bonn and Berlin. Charges that he was a wild-eyed Western" cowboy" were similar to those leveled against President Bush today.


Tuesday, June 15, 2004 - 09:25

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Elisabeth Bumiller, in the NYT (June 14, 2004):

...This past weekend, the White House Web site prominently featured a collection of Reagan remembrances and a photo essay of Mr. Bush at the funeral for the former president. The Bush campaign Web site went one better, offering a video of Mr. Reagan uttering his most famous lines -"These are the boys of Pointe du Hoc" - interspersed with Mr. Bush's own words -"He had the confidence that comes with conviction, the strength that comes with character."

It was difficult to tell where the 40th president ended and the 43rd began, a blurring further promoted by Ken Mehlman, the president's campaign manager, who told an Iowa Republican Party convention on Saturday that Mr. Reagan's spirit lived on."Every time an American soldier, sailor, airman or marine risks his or her life to ensure our security and peace, Ronald Reagan will be there," Mr. Mehlman said.

Of course, Mr. Bush's effort to wrap himself in the Reagan legacy drew plenty of skeptics, including a number of top Reagan officials, who said, all anonymously, that the presidencies could not have been more different. Mr. Reagan was pragmatic, they said, but Mr. Bush is ideological. Mr. Reagan was a unifier, they argued, while Mr. Bush has polarized.

"Bush wants to defeat his opponents, Reagan wanted his to join him," one former official of the Reagan White House said.

Leaving aside what many historians call a nostalgic rewriting of the Reagan era - plenty of Democrats despised and derided Ronald Reagan in a highly partisan time -there are still striking and significant contrasts in the politics, artifice and style of the two presidencies.

The first that leaps out is Mr. Reagan's ease with the camera and the way it captured his personality and seemed to enhance who he was. Americans felt they knew Mr. Reagan, who was little different off television than on.

"He had so much experience - he knew the expressions, the posture, the lighting, the angles," said Michael Evans, Mr. Reagan's White House photographer, who recalled that Mr. Reagan, so used to Hollywood sets, had no problems letting him into the Oval Office on historic occasions to shoot through the day.

"I'd say hello in the morning, and then he'd just totally ignore me," Mr. Evans said.

Mr. Bush, in contrast, is stiffer and often more tongue-tied on television than in person. He finds the camera so distracting that his staff quickly shoos photographers away."He just likes to get it over with," said David Hume Kennerly, who has photographed every president since he was Gerald R. Ford's White House photographer."If he had his choice, he wouldn't do it."

The second difference is in the business of politics. Mr. Bush, who is his own de facto campaign manager, loves the combat and gossip. His advisers say he knows his exact standing in recent polls, the names of his chairmen in the battleground states and probably the names of important county chairmen.

Mr. Reagan, in contrast, did not."Are you kidding me?" said Kenneth M. Duberstein, who was Mr. Reagan's last White House chief of staff."He didn't want to hear about the political ups and downs." Mr. Reagan's detachment meant that his operatives handled the dirty work, while Mr. Bush's immersion has helped drive one of the most politically aggressive White Houses in decades....


Tuesday, June 15, 2004 - 03:48

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Ota Masahide, a former governor of Okinawa Prefecture and historian of Okinawa, is currently a Social Democratic Party member of the Upper House, in Japan Focus (June 2004):

When a 12-year-old Okinawan schoolgirl was raped by three U.S. soldiers in the autumn of 1995, I was governor of Okinawa Prefecture. In my address to the people of Okinawa, I said,"I apologize to you all for failing to protect the girl's human rights and dignity."
 
I uttered these words not so much as an expression of my personal emotion, but more out of a sense of pained frustration that human rights violations would continue so long as Okinawa remained host to U.S. military bases, and I would be helpless to protect the human dignity of my fellow Okinawans.
 
The girl's rape set off a chain of events that led to the establishment of the Special Action Committee on Okinawa (SACO) to consolidate and reduce U.S. facilities.
 
According to the SACO Final Report of December 1996, Japan and the United States agreed on the return of land then occupied by 11 U.S. installations that included air stations, training facilities and military ports.
 
That was more than seven years ago. However, not only has there been hardly any progress, Okinawa's base-related problems have actually grown worse.
 
Particularly disturbing are the circumstances surrounding the planned relocation of the Futenma Air Station, one of the focal issues addressed by SACO. On the pretext of adhering to the Final Report, the Japanese government insists on relocating that facility off the cost of Henoko in the city of Nago. But Okinawans have been protesting with sit-ins. And with various environmental groups warning against damage to coral reefs and other forms of environmental destruction, the Futenma issue has hit an impasse.
 
During World War II, Okinawa was the nation's"breakwater" that protected mainland Japan. And with the arrival of the U.S. forces after the war, Okinawa's renewed suffering has continued to this day. There has been little sympathy for Okinawa's plight among the rest of the Japanese public.
 
The government and many Japanese citizens insist the Japan-U.S. Security Treaty is necessary for the nation's security and prosperity. Yet, the last thing they want is a U.S. military base in their backyard. They have been callously taking advantage of Okinawans.
 
The U.S. military presence in Okinawa is not limited to the bases alone. About 40 percent of Okinawan air space and 29 sea areas in the prefecture are controlled by the U.S. forces. When local people are denied free use of their own land, air and sea, how could they be considered citizens of a sovereign nation?
 
The central government in Tokyo has been appallingly indifferent to this reality. And worse yet, many people-including even politicians-believe wrongly that the Okinawan economy would collapse without the U.S. military presence.
 
Here are the facts. Of Okinawa's 52 cities, towns and villages, the community with the highest annual income is a sugarcane farming village where there is no U.S. base. During the 1960s before Okinawa was returned to Japanese rule in 1972, U.S. base-related revenues accounted for half the prefecture's revenues, and about 50,000 people were employed at U.S. bases. Today, there are less than 10,000 base workers and, base-related revenues make up only 5 percent of the prefectural total.
 
There would be jobs for 10 times more people if the U.S. forces were to vacate their bases in urban areas and the returned land was developed by the private sector. Okinawa's tropical climate and abundant nature render it an ideal holiday destination, which should enable the prefecture to bolster revenues from tourism.
 
In short, the bases are actually hampering the development of Okinawa's economy, not sustaining it.
 
With the U.S. forces reorganizing themselves around the world, nothing is set in concrete anymore. Even though the Japanese government remains obsessed with the SACO Final Report, its very content no longer reflects the present reality. And in point of fact, nowhere does the report say anything about reclaiming an offshore area to relocate the Futenma Air Station, nor is there any mention of making it double as a civilian airfield.
 
Given these developments, Tokyo should stop hanging on to the past and call for a new round of negotiations with Washington, keeping in perspective the possibility of bases in Okinawa being relocated to areas outside Japan.
 
If Tokyo really means business, there is no question the Pentagon and the State Department will be flexible and accommodating. In fact, I do not see why we could not have SACO2 and SACO3....


Monday, June 14, 2004 - 08:39

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John Tierney, in the NYT (June 13, 2004):

If you've been following the election coverage, you know how angry you're supposed to be. This has been called the Armageddon election in the 50-50 nation, a civil war between the Blue and the Red states, a clash between churchgoers and secularists hopelessly separated by a values chasm and a culture gap.

But do Americans really despise the beliefs of half of their fellow citizens? Have Americans really changed so much since the day when a candidate with Ronald Reagan's soothing message could carry 49 of 50 states?

To some scholars, the answer is no. They say that our basic differences have actually been shrinking over the past two decades, and that the polarized nation is largely a myth created by people inside the Beltway talking to each another or, more precisely, shouting at each other.

These academics say it's not the voters but the political elite of both parties who have become more narrow-minded and polarized. As Norma Desmond might put it: We're still big. It's the parties that got smaller.

Just because a state votes red or blue in a presidential election doesn't mean that its voters are fixed permanently on one side of a political divide or culture gap. The six bluest states in 2000, the ones where George W. Bush fared worst - Rhode Island, Massachusetts, New York, Hawaii, Connecticut and Maryland - all have Republican governors. Even California went red last year when Arnold Schwarzenegger, a moderate Republican, became governor.

Most voters are still centrists willing to consider a candidate from either party, but they rarely get the chance: It's become difficult for a centrist to be nominated for president or to Congress or the state legislature, said Morris P. Fiorina, a political scientist at Stanford and senior fellow at the Hoover Institution.

"If the two presidential candidates this year were John McCain and Joe Lieberman, you'd see a lot more crossover and less polarization," said Professor Fiorina, mentioning the moderate Republican and Democratic senators. He is the co-author, along with Samuel J. Abrams of Harvard and Jeremy C. Pope of Stanford, of the forthcoming book, "Culture War? The Myth of a Polarized America."

"The bulk of the American citizenry is somewhat in the position of the unfortunate citizens of some third-world countries who try to stay out of the cross-fire while Maoist guerrillas and right-wing death squads shoot at each other," the book concludes. "Reports of a culture war are mostly wishful thinking and useful fund-raising strategies on the part of culture-war guerrillas, abetted by a media driven by the need to make the dull and everyday appear exciting and unprecedented."

The book presents evidence that voters in red and blue America are not far apart. Majorities in both places support stricter gun control as well as the death penalty; they strongly oppose giving blacks preference in hiring while also wanting the government to guarantee that blacks are treated fairly by employers. They're against outlawing abortion completely or allowing it under any circumstances, and their opinions on abortion have been fairly stable for three decades. Virtually identical majorities of Blues and Reds don't want a single party controlling the White House and Congress.

Further evidence of a truce comes from Paul DiMaggio, a sociologist at Princeton, and colleagues who have studied attitudes toward a wide range of issues like race, crime, the role of women and the welfare state. They looked at various demographic divisions - by race, age, sex, education, religious denomination, region - and found that gaps among groups have been constant or shrinking for the past three decades....

Why, if the public is tolerant, would the political elites be so angry? One reason given by Professor Fiorina is the decline of party bosses, who promoted centrist candidates because their patronage systems depended on winning elections, and the corresponding rise of special-interest groups, who are more concerned with candidates' ideology.


Sunday, June 13, 2004 - 08:55

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David Stout, in the NYT (June 11, 2004):

... Abraham Lincoln's funeral in 1865 loosed a flood of grief only a half-year after his very re-election was in doubt."In point of sad sublimity and moral grandeur, the spectacle has been the most impressive ever witnessed in the national capital," The New-York Times observed then.

An older generation of Americans recalls the heartbreak of President Franklin D. Roosevelt's funeral in 1945, just five months after he was elected to his fourth term - by a comfortable majority, to be sure, but also his narrowest.

To a somewhat younger generation, the funeral of John F. Kennedy will always seem like the day before yesterday. Some historians say the shock of his assassination made him in myth what he had not been in life.

Leaders of yesteryear have often been lionized upon their death, sometimes by people who had reason to feel less than warm toward them.

At Dwight D. Eisenhower's funeral in 1969, President Richard M. Nixon praised the former president and general as"a good and gentle and kind man."

Nixon struggled to keep from choking up, according to one account, in extolling Eisenhower as a man from the country's heartland in every sense,"not only from its geographical heart but from its spiritual heart.''

"He exemplified,'' Nixon said,"what millions of parents hoped that their sons would be - strong and courageous and honest and compassionate."

It was almost as if Eisenhower had never hurt Nixon's chances against Kennedy in the 1960 presidential race by seeming lukewarm toward his own vice president, even telling reporters that he might need a week or so to recall any significant contribution Nixon had made in office.

When former President Lyndon B. Johnson died in 1973, an estimated 40,000 people filed through the Capitol Rotunda, where his coffin lay. Near the National City Christian Church, the site of services here, people stood 8 to 10 deep, united in respect as they had not been during the Vietnam War.

President Warren G. Harding was deeply mourned when he died suddenly in 1923. The throngs of grief-stricken included some 10,000 schoolchildren recruited from Washington's playgrounds to strew Pennsylvania Avenue with flowers as the funeral procession moved from the White House to the Capitol.

Nearly 200 people, including a score of marines standing at attention near the White House, were overcome by the 100-degree heat that Aug. 8. In time, Harding's reputation wilted as well.

When Herbert Hoover died in 1964, after the longest post-White House life of any president, his inability to deal with the Great Depression was, for the moment, forgotten. At his funeral, attended by President Johnson, Hoover was honored in a special prayer for his" concerns for the needs of all mankind." The service recalled the European relief efforts he had helped to organize after both world wars.

Gen. Douglas MacArthur, who on retirement referred to himself with an old barracks refrain that said"old soldiers never die, they just fade away," did not exactly fade away. The huge crowds at his April 1964 funeral heard him extolled for his military genius and the reforms he instituted in postwar Japan - not, of course, for his peacock vanity or for the near insubordination that prompted President Harry S. Truman to relieve him in 1951 as commander of United Nations forces in Korea.

Rivaling the general's funeral in pageantry, and surpassing it in poignancy, was the 1921 service for an ordinary infantryman, the Unknown Soldier of World War I. Exhumed from an American military cemetery in France, his body lay in the Capitol Rotunda, where an estimated 90,000 people filed past his coffin.

"As he was carried past through the banks of humanity that lined Pennsylvania Avenue a solemn, reverent hush held the living walls," a reporter for The Associated Press wrote."Yet there was not so much of sorrow as of high pride in it all, a pride beyond the reach of shouting and the clamor that marks less sacred moments in life."

The crowds, the account went on,"stood in almost holy awe to take their own part in what was theirs, the glory of the American people, honored here in the honors showered on America's nameless son from France."

And when he was entombed at Arlington National Cemetery to honor the many war dead who could not be identified,"the guns roared out again in the national salute.''

 


Saturday, June 12, 2004 - 17:58

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Fred Kempe, in the WSJ (European edition) (June 9, 2004):

In the early weeks of this Bush administration, a veteran U.S. senator told me not to compare the new President to his father but rather to Ronald Reagan. The senator, who knew all three, said that while the first President Bush had been one of America's finest public servants, his son and Mr. Reagan had more greatness in them. Both shared deeper convictions that they had a larger mission to fulfill. The terrorist attacks of September 11 provided George W. both confirmation and direction for that sense of calling.

Yet as Bush the Younger worked his way through a skeptical Europe starting on Friday, suffering cold shoulders from Pope John Paul II and Jacques Chirac, one couldn't escape a sense of nostalgia for Mr. Reagan, even before his death on Saturday. Some have argued mistakenly that Europe's overwhelming distaste for George W. Bush has been reminiscent of the 1980s, when Mr. Reagan so deeply irritated many intellectuals here with his, in their view,"simplistic" talk of Star Wars, Evil Empires and Shining Cities on Hills.

Indeed, the European caricatures of Mr. Reagan then portrayed a stridently anti-Communist Hollywood actor in cowboy boots playing out a B-movie script with his Strangelovian finger poised over the nuclear button. In an insulting remembrance, the French standard Le Monde spoke of his economic legacy of Wall Street multi-millionaires and"homeless people victimized by the sad cuts in welfare programs.

The current Bush administration has relished comparisons to the Gipper. Like Mr. Reagan, the spinmeisters said, George W. would confound his critics with historic accomplishments because, like Mr. Reagan, he possessed a fervor about America and its transformative nature. Even critics here concede Mr. Reagan sped the collapse of the Soviet Union and fed the economic re-emergence of America. Under George W., Europeans would again benefit even as they groused from the cheap seats.

In the end, however, was not their commonalties, but rather the stark differences between the two men and their administrations that have been most damaging to Mr. Bush in Europe and in Iraq and at home. President Reagan was a patient and pragmatic president whose sunny optimism inspired friends while his embracing demeanor disarmed enemies. President Bush's combative style and his administration's uncompromising political execution, by contrast, have made life both harder for his friends and easier for his enemies." The rancor toward Mr. Reagan was never as bitter as it has been toward Mr. Bush; the distance across the Atlantic was never as wide....


Wednesday, June 9, 2004 - 06:36

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Neela Banerjee, in the NYT (June 6, 2004):

At their meeting here last week, members of the Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries seemed to abdicate responsibility for the recent record-high oil prices. Purnomo Yusgiantoro, the group's president and Indonesia's minister of energy, complained in his opening remarks that"the high prices have been caused by a combination of factors over which OPEC has no control - speculation on futures markets, tightness in the U.S. gasoline market, geopolitical concerns and higher-than-expected oil demand growth, especially in China and the U.S.A."

This is not entirely the case. The 10 voting members of the cartel did help drive up prices over the last 18 months, underestimating world demand and sometimes cutting production to buoy prices.

But it is true that the market OPEC has successfully managed over the last five years seems to be slipping from its grip. By pumping less oil OPEC can keep prices from falling, but it has little power to curtail violence and political instability, and so cannot keep prices from spiraling upward on bad news. For consumers, that could mean continual volatility in fuel prices, and the possibility of continued high prices, which have hit $40 a barrel over the last month.

"How can they control prices when there are three wars in the Middle East?" asked Walid Khadduri, editor of the Middle East Economic Survey, a weekly newsletter."There is the war on terrorism, Iraq and Palestine." He added:"In talking to a lot of delegates here, I think they have reached the point, except for the Saudis, that there is nothing more they can do."

OPEC lives with the ghost of a disastrous miscalculation in 1998. The global economy looked strong at the time, and OPEC increased its production to meet what it thought would be higher demand. Shortly afterward, the Asian economy crashed, demand sank and oil prices plummeted to as low as $10 a barrel. The cartel's member nations recovered by collaborating more closely than they had in years, and mustering the cooperation of non-OPEC countries like Mexico and Norway, to cut production to bolster prices.

Over the last four years, the cartel has tried to keep oil within its so-called price band of $22 to $28 per barrel. But the fear of another price plunge was always a factor, and remains so today, even with high global demand and high prices. The reason is obvious: OPEC members are wholly dependent on oil revenue to run their states and maintain internal social stability.

Prices did in fact stay below $30 a barrel for several years. But OPEC, like the rest of the world, got the supply and demand balance wrong last year, largely because it underestimated the robust growth in China and the United States.

OPEC also fretted about the return of the Iraqi oil exports after the war. The production took longer than predicted to recover, but before the war there was no way of telling how much oil would return and when. And OPEC did not want to produce enough to cause a glut in the market when Iraq did pump more.

Nor did OPEC immediately become concerned about rising prices. The cartel now believes that Western economies and their consumers can thrive with oil that costs more than $30 a barrel, though they may not like it....


Tuesday, June 8, 2004 - 05:56

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Philip Taubman, in the NYT (June 6, 2004):

It seems an immutable law of Washington: directors of central intelligence are better remembered for their failures than their successes. George J. Tenet joined the roll last week. Historians may someday credit him for rebuilding the marquee spy service at a dangerous hour in the nation's history, but for now his critics will consign him to the company of men like Allen W. Dulles, who was fired by President Kennedy after the disastrous 1961 Bay of Pigs invasion of Cuba, and William J. Casey, who died in office as the Iran-contra scandal engulfed the Reagan administration.

As he packs up his papers, Mr. Tenet is facing the sort of treatment Dulles was accorded after the Bay of Pigs debacle. Upon learning of the failed invasion, Dean Acheson, Harry Truman's secretary of state, acidly observed to his old boss,"Why we ever engaged in this asinine Cuban adventure, I cannot imagine.''

As Mr. Tenet bid a sad farewell to his colleagues at the Central Intelligence Agency last week, it was hard to recall the last time a Washington spy master stepped down in triumph - or, for that matter, the last time the nation celebrated the achievements of the C.I.A. The closest thing to a rousing success in recent years was the agency's clandestine role in the 1980's in evicting Soviet forces from Afghanistan - though that operation inadvertently laid the groundwork for the rise of Osama bin Laden - and the capture or killing of top Al Qaeda leaders since Sept. 11, 2001.

In recent decades, the most notable distinction of directors of central intelligence has been their limited tenure. Until Mr. Tenet's seven-year run, the turnover rate was dizzying. There were 10 directors from 1973 to 1997, when Mr. Tenet was appointed.

The casualty rate, and the C.I.A.'s reputation, were not always so dismal. Though the agency has courted trouble almost from the day it was born in 1947, there was a halcyon era: the 1950's.

It was a time of expanding ambitions for the C.I.A., when its founding generation - many from Yale, Princeton and other elite universities - came to Washington to serve secretly on the front lines of the cold war. Raw practices that the agency would later come to rue, including assassination plots and expedient alliances with repressive foreign security services, first appeared in the 1950's, but the small circle of people who knew about them ardently believed that the hard-boiled methods were justified by the need to contain the Soviet threat.

Before his unhappy departure in 1961, Dulles spent most of his nearly nine years as director building a first-class intelligence agency, a pioneer in espionage science and technology. At the direction of President Dwight D. Eisenhower, he reluctantly took the lead in developing exotic hardware that revolutionized the spy business, including highflying spy planes and satellites. Eisenhower's decision to turn the projects over to the C.I.A. instead of the Air Force - he thought the agency was more nimble and better at keeping secrets - gave it an important new role that produced some prized accomplishments, including the first photo reconnaissance satellite in 1960.

The C.I.A. prospered, in part, because Dulles operated in a freewheeling environment that most of his successors would have envied. Congressional intervention was almost nonexistent. Only a handful of House and Senate leaders were kept informed, and even those limited consultations were treated like chummy conversations at a well-heeled men's club.

The Washington press corps was much smaller and less aggressive than it is today. There were no embarrassing headlines about the agency's serial failures to get its first spy satellite into operation, for example, because reporters didn't know that the rockets blowing up on a launch pad in California were part of a secret project.

Even the most audacious covert operations - the installation of a pro-American leader in Iran in 1953 and a coup in Guatemala a year later - largely escaped public scrutiny and only enhanced the reputation of the C.I.A. in the classified corridors of Washington.

The turning point was the Bay of Pigs invasion, an improbable scheme cooked up in the final months of the Eisenhower administration that presumed that a small force of Cuban exiles trained by the C.I.A. would ignite an uprising against Fidel Castro, the Cuban leader. The failed attempt, just weeks after John F. Kennedy's inauguration, taught the new president and the nation about the dangers and embarrassments of misconceived covert operations. It has been mostly downhill ever since for the C.I.A., at least in terms of public esteem....


Tuesday, June 8, 2004 - 05:45

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Elaine Sciolino, in the NYT (May 31, 2004):

Franklin Roosevelt loathed Charles de Gaulle and de Gaulle loathed him back.

The Free French leader, was given only two days notice that 150,000 American and other foreign troops were coming by sea and air to the Normandy beaches on June 6, 1944, and de Gaulle was not allowed to take part.

President Roosevelt , worried about de Gaulle's authoritarian streak, drew up a plan to impose an American-run military government on the country. Roosevelt went so far as to print a new currency for the French people, but de Gaulle successfully vetoed its use.

"The French and Americans fought like cats and dogs," said Robert O. Paxton, the American World War II historian."This was not a time of French-American harmony. But in the mythology, we were all heroes and they were all grateful to be saved. We use the positive parts of memory to mend fences."

It is to honor this spirit of sacrifice and liberation that President Bush and 16 other heads of state and government will gather in Normandy next Sunday, the 60th anniversary of the D-Day landings.

Yet even as they celebrate the Atlantic powers' greatest achievement, many will be mourning their greatest debacle: the failure to forge a common strategy on Iraq.

No less than in 1944, political attention will be focused on the difficult relationship between the American and French leaders, George W. Bush and Jacques Chirac, the man who championed European opposition to the American-led invasion and occupation of Iraq. How these two men get along will help shape the course of trans-Atlantic ties.

French public opinion is overwhelmingly hostile to Mr. Bush. (Eighty-five percent who were asked in a Pew poll in March had an unfavorable opinion of him.)

Laurent Fabius, a former prime minister of France, calls the disconnect between the celebration of the past and the condemnation of the present"the paradox of June 6.''

The American president"will be welcomed as the president of brave men who died for freedom," Mr. Fabius said at the University of Chicago last Tuesday."But he will be considered as the exact opposite of the values that make us love America."

The Socialist Party spokesman, Annick Lepetit, puts it more starkly:"We say yes to America, yes to the heroes of D-Day, yes to peace - and no to George Bush."


Friday, June 4, 2004 - 09:11

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Jeffrey Bell, in the Weekly Standard (May 24, 2004):

FOR GEORGE W. BUSH, it would be bizarre if the most loyal and gifted member of his cabinet were to be the instrument of his defeat in November 2004. Recent developments on the Iraq front of the war on terror make such thoughts about Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld harder and harder to put aside.

No, it isn't about the prison scandal. Bad as this is, a successful execution of the president's Iraq strategy will in the end render Abu Ghraib an ugly sideshow.

The danger to the Bush presidency lies in the decision to pull the Marines back from attacking Sunni terrorists in Falluja, and the growing probability that similar avoidance of U.S. military risk is being adopted in other parts of Iraq. This sends the worst conceivable signal to Iraqi advocates of democracy and would-be political leaders....

A clue to what may be going on is Rumsfeld's recent, and rare, confession of unpleasant surprise at the number of U.S. casualties taking place a full year after the fall of Baghdad. Rumsfeld was an elective politician in the 1960s. His first stint as defense secretary began nearly three decades ago, just a few months after the North Vietnamese conquest of South Vietnam. It is a commonplace that the Vietnam experience turned many American hawks into doves or isolationists. Less well understood is what it did to those American hawks who never stopped being hawkish.

Hawks who wanted the United States to be able to act militarily after Vietnam created the movement called military reform. They fought successfully to end the draft. Their version of a modernized military emphasized technology, speed, and surprise, often involving airpower, rather than frontal infantry assaults. Again and again, they were proven right, never more so than in Rumsfeld's dazzling war plans for Afghanistan and Iraq.

What these hawks' military success obscured is a political analysis that is deeply flawed. Their premise, often unstated, is that U.S. public opinion turned against involvement in Vietnam because of persistently high U.S. casualties. But the truth is that public support for the war held up long after casualties became high (far higher, of course, than those we're seeing now). It began to falter when political elites faltered in their will to prevail, culminating in the visible demoralization of Lyndon Johnson and his administration in the wake of the Tet offensive of early 1968.

It is often recalled, as an oddity, that the breakthrough Eugene McCarthy vote in New Hampshire in March 1968 consisted more of hawks than doves. But that McCarthy vote was no oddity. The turn against the Johnson-Humphrey war strategy, and the ultimate passing of presidential dominance to the GOP, was not due to the doves, most of whom wound up voting for Humphrey in November 1968. The center of gravity of American politics shifted because of Vietnam hawks voting their frustration at the loss of a simple, understandable mission....


Friday, June 4, 2004 - 07:26

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Annie Nakao, in the San Francisco Chronicle (May 30, 2004):

Long before Janet Jackson's breast set off national hand-wringing over smut on our airwaves, the world was already a dicey place. Or so Seattle music historian Peter Blecha maintains in his new book, "Taboo Tunes, A History of Banned Bands and Censored Songs," which romps through centuries of public outrage over music of every sort, from bawdy tavern ditties to gritty hip-hop.

"I absolutely sympathize with parents, who have every good reason in the world to protect their children from being exposed to questionable stuff," Blecha says. "But the world has never been perfect. It's always been full of dangerous things, wild and crazy ideas and bad language."

Not to mention songs.

"Some things never change," the 47-year-old onetime garage band drummer and DJ says in a phone interview.

"Taboo Tunes" was published in paperback by San Francisco's Backbeat Books, with a foreword by Nirvana's Krist Novoselic. Blecha, a past senior curator at the Experience Music Project, Seattle's rock 'n' roll museum, has studied public alarm over controversial songs and artists for 20 years. He views the censoriously inclined as mostly "woefully misguided, often destructive, occasionally comical and remarkably unsuccessful."

Hold on, says Jim Steyer, who teaches civil liberties at Stanford University and heads Common Sense Media, which informs parents on films, CDs and TV shows.

"Millions of parents are really concerned about the music their kids are listening to," Steyer said. "We're for sanity, not censorship."

But Blecha believes history justifies his protectionist stance on behalf of "unintimidated music making."

Plato warned politicians of his day to be wary of poets and their corrupting influences on youth. Henry David Thoreau, in 1854, opined that like liquor, "even music may be intoxicating."

Plato also noted that new rhythms can set in motion ripples that can turn cultures on their heads. This explains why jazz, rock 'n' roll and now hip-hop have caused such a ruckus.

"A wave of vulgar, filthy and suggestive music has inundated the land with its obscene posturing, its lewd gestures," spewed one newspaper in 1899 about jazz.

When jazz swept through Chicago, the playing of saxophones and trumpets was banned after dark; "reckless" new jazz dance steps like the bunny hug, the turkey trot and the lame duck were outlawed.

A half-century later, Time magazine disparaged rock 'n' roll as "an unrelenting, shocking syncopation that sounds like a bull whip; a choleric saxophone honking mating calls; an electric guitar turned up so loud that it shatters and splits."

Rock festivals were targeted in the early 1970s. The Indiana Legislature hastily enacted laws barring such events, only to discover that it had outlawed nearly every large public gathering, including the Indianapolis 500 auto race....


Thursday, June 3, 2004 - 11:32

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Arianna Huffington, column (June 2, 2004):

As our anger, anguish and anxiety about Iraq continue to mount, I find myself looking for clarity and understanding not in the media's daily play-by-play, which confuses more than it illuminates (Did we win in Fallujah or get our butts kicked?), but rather in Shakespeare's "Henry V."
I've found it contains far more truth about our present situation than anything coming out of the White House or the Pentagon.

The impetus for this rearward search for insight was an invitation to take part in a debate sponsored by The Shakespeare Theatre in Washington, D.C., about the wisdom of King Henry V's decision to lead an English army into France in 1415.

The parallels between Shakespeare's wartime king and our current president, George II, are many and delicious — from the pair's hard-partying younger days (Prince Hal was a 15th-century feckless frat
boy-prankster) to the challenge of following in a powerful father's footsteps right up to the critical matter of whether their wartime adventures made them courageous commanders or failed leaders.

The central question, then as now, was whether the invasion of another country was a war of choice or a war of necessity. If the answer is a war of choice — and it is for both Henry and W — then the inevitable conclusion is that they were both immoral wars. For there can be no moral war of choice.

As Shakespeare has a commoner tell a disguised Henry on the night before the decisive battle at Agincourt: "If the cause be not good, the King himself hath a heavy reckoning to make, when all those legs, and arms, and heads, chopped off in a battle, shall join together at the latter day and cry all, 'We died at such a place.'"...

Contemplating the invasion of France, Henry V says, "France being ours, we'll bend it to our awe/Or break it all to pieces." Iraq gave us shock and awe, and Powell's Pottery Barn rule: "You break it, you own it." We did — and now we do. And we'll be paying it off for years and years and years.

In Henry V's time, history was much slower to cast its verdict. It took 30 years for England to lose control of France and dissolve into civil war.
In the end, Henry “lost France and made his England bleed.”

The verdict on Iraq is already in: George II has lost the war, emboldened our enemies and made America bleed.


Thursday, June 3, 2004 - 10:37

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John McDonough, on NPR (May 26, 2004):

Until Franklin Delano Roosevelt's first nomination as the Democratic candidate in 1932, no candidates attended their parties' conventions, and they waited weeks before getting the news and accepting. So John Kerry's consideration of the idea of not formally accept his party's nomination at the convention would be a throwback, not a precedent.

Click here to hear the report.


Thursday, May 27, 2004 - 18:49

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Elizabeth Hayes Alvarez, in Sightings (Martin Marty Center at the University of Chicago Divinity School) (May 27, 2004):

"There is a kind of social contract, an unwritten law, to be a good neighbor," Nadler said."Here's the problem: That social contract is not binding for them.  They have another contract.  They have a contract with the Torah.  They have a contract with God.  That will always get priority."  ("Cultural Clash Evident throughout Lakewood," Asbury Park Press, May 23, 2004.)

''I used to say I wasn't prejudiced against anyone, but then I realized I had a problem with them putting Allah above everyone else.''  ("Tension in a Michigan City Over Muslims' Call to Prayer," New York Times, May 5, 2004.)

The"them" in the first quote refers to Orthodox Jews in Lakewood, New Jersey.  The"them" in the second quote refers to Muslims in Hamtramck, Michigan.  The common thread weaves around immigration, religion, ethnicity, and the spillover in the public square.

Sightings caught sight of these events, the Michigan story through a customary audit of the New York Times, and the Lakewood story through local word of mouth ("did you hear about the trouble in Lakewood?").  We were struck by the similarities, the resonance with our past, and the ever renewing vitality of religion in America.

Here's a play-by-play, Lakewood first: The population in a small town of mostly retirees, Orthodox Jews, and non-Jewish white, African-American, and Latino middle- and working-class families explodes in the space of a decade from 45,000 residents in 1990 to an estimated 75,000 residents in 2004.  The township is groaning under the burden of increased traffic congestion, housing shortages, and a strained schools budget.  The other-than-Orthodox citizens of the town are groaning because they feel that they are being"overrun" and forced out of the town by a now Orthodox majority (half the population) whose main interest is not Lakewood per se, but building and fortifying a kosher society of tight-knit families.  The low cost of housing and the presence of the country's largest rabbinical college, Beth Medrash Govoha, is driving the population boom as young Orthodox men and their families escape from the New York metro area's high-cost of living to carve out a better life among the trees.

Tensions heat up.  Charges of monopolizing the housing market and selling only to Jews comes from one faction, charges of anti-Semitism comes from the other, swastikas begin popping up on synagogues, angry marches are made down main streets, and the local paper quotes both sides with Allan Nadler, director of Jewish Studies at Drew University in Madison, New Jersey providing this piece's opener.

Now Hamtramck: The population in a small town outside of Detroit doesn't necessarily explode, but the ethnic mix of the town's residents is transformed over the space of a decade from mostly Polish to Polish, Bangladeshi, Yemen, Pakistani, Bosnian and"other foreign."  A recent census estimates that over 40 percent of the town's population was born outside of the US.  The majority of new immigrants are Islamic, and like the Orthodox in Lakewood, they appreciate and foster the religious character of the town.  Many feel"drawn to the Muslim community here not for its engagement with the rest of America, but for its distance."  One resident explains,"What attracted me was seeing school girls with veils and burkhas ... It's more authentic here than in New York, more roots. There's village life.''  Despite the changes, the Muslim and non-Muslim populations lived together peaceably.  But then came the spillover into the public square.

Recently, the main mosque in the town began broadcasting over loudspeakers the call to prayer, which in Islam occurs five times a day, 365 days a year.  The invocation in Arabic lasts up to two minutes and can be heard, as designed, throughout most of the town.

Suddenly, tension heats up.  They've crossed the line, says one faction.  It's no different than the toning of church bells says the other faction.  A resolution to allow the call to prayer is passed in the City Council, and the residents of Hamtramck are now grappling with feelings of resentment, suspicion, and elation over religious freedom and expression.

A long-time Hamtramck resident and self-described born-again Christian provides the irony: ''My main objection is simple,'' she said. ''I don't want to be told that Allah is the true and only God ... It's against my constitutional rights to have to listen to another religion evangelize in my ear.''

And thus the rich American drama (and history) of peoples, places, piety, and the public square continues.


Thursday, May 27, 2004 - 18:23

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Brendan Miniter, in the WSJ (May 27, 2004):

For more than a decade I believed that the first President Bush made a massive mistake in leaving Saddam Hussein in power in 1991. I almost voted against him for this wobbliness in 1992. But the longer the fight drags on in Iraq today, the more I thank God that the first Gulf War stopped with the liberation of Kuwait. This is no endorsement of Saddam's final 12 years of rule, nor a repudiation of the invasion last year. But it's time to face a hard truth: America cannot afford to be beaten in the sands of Iraq.

Let's consider what would've happened had George H.W. Bush ordered the troops to go on to Baghdad in the first Gulf War. Whether in quiet desertion or mass protest, much of Europe and the Arab world would have turned against the American president in the face of a protracted insurgent war--and there is every reason to believe Saddam loyalists would have been much stronger then than they are today. Each ally's departure would have emboldened domestic opponents, who were more numerous back then. (Only 10 of 56 Senate Democrats voted for the Gulf War, compared with 29 of 50 who backed Iraq's liberation in 2002.) The impulse to withdraw with less than total victory would have been almost irresistible. And without seeing the war in moral terms, the first Bush administration would likely have buckled under the pressure.

Republicans didn't control Congress at the time of the Gulf War, so the erosion of what little Democratic support there was would have doomed the war effort. Last week the House approved a defense bill north of $400 billion. Would a Democratic Congress have been willing to appropriate such a large sum to fight insurgents and rebuild Iraq in the run-up to the 1992 presidential election, at a time when the nation hadn't been steeled by a terrorist attack on our own soil?

On the world stage, this would have been infinitely worse than Mogadishu. Osama bin Laden would have had the kind of victory he'd hoped for in Afghanistan in 2001--proof that a Muslim population could defeat the U.S. And domestic resolve would have been devastated.

Today we are facing a similar situation. With a presidential election approaching, domestic opposition to the war is growing ever more vocal. With J. Paul Bremer and Colin Powell promising that the U.S. will withdraw troops if the Iraqi government asks for as much after the June 30 transfer of sovereignty--which has prompted Katie Couric to sound a similar drum--it's possible to imagine American GIs leaving Iraq with less than total victory. ...

Thursday, May 27, 2004 - 15:42

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Steven Aftergood, in the newsletter of the FAS Project on Government Secrecy (Volume 2004, Issue No. 47 May 26, 2004):

The yawning gulf between the Bush Administration's sequential rationales for the war in Iraq and the facts as they have emerged (e.g. regarding weapons of mass destruction, links to al Qaida, etc.) has left many people grasping for an explanation of what went wrong.

Lately, the suggestion has been raised that the war was propelled by an Iranian effort to spread disinformation about the state of Iraqi WMD programs. Was the Bush Administration the unwitting victim of a foreign covert action?

Historian John Prados doesn't think so. In his new book "Hoodwinked," he argues that officials knowingly manipulated the available information "to win popular support for an unprovoked war."

"This book is an attempt to compile and share with the American public for the first time the actual intelligence available to the Bush administration as it made its case for war. It then aims to show how this information was consistently distorted, manipulated, and ignored, as the president, vice-president, secretaries of defense and state, and others, sought to persuade the country that the facts about Iraq were other than what the intelligence indicated," Prados writes.

Although the author plainly has a point of view, the book stays fairly close to the documentary record, providing copies of key source documents like the October 2002 CIA White Paper on Iraq, and carefully annotating and analyzing them.

Though it is not the last word on the subject, the book provides a solid formulation of the questions about the U.S. war in Iraq that citizens and voters will have to contend with in the months and years to come.

See "Hoodwinked: The Documents that Reveal How Bush Sold Us a War" by John Prados of the National Security Archive, just published by the New Press, 2004:

http://www.thenewpress.com/books/hoodwinked.htm


Wednesday, May 26, 2004 - 16:09

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Gerald Nicosia, author of Home to War: A History of the Vietnam Veterans' Movement (Crown Publishers, 2001, forthcoming in a new edition from Carroll & Graf this August), in the LAT (May 25, 2004):

... The next big event by the VVAW [Vietnam Veterans Against the War] began in late January 1971, at a Howard Johnson's Motor Lodge in Detroit. [John] Kerry attended the Winter Soldier Investigation, reluctantly. Despite claims by recent Kerry-bashers, including Vietnam veteran Stephen Sherman in the Wall Street Journal (Jan. 26, 2004), that Kerry was the "emcee" of Winter Soldier, not a single FBI document concerning that event bears his name.

Winter Soldier "shattered" Kerry, he said to me in a 1988 interview. More than 100 veterans spoke. Kerry saw their discharge forms and talked with the vets enough, he said, to become satisfied that most were telling authentic stories—of torturing and murdering Viet Cong prisoners, raping village women, shooting villagers for target practice, cutting off ears and other body parts. These accounts were news to him and educated him, he said then. "It was a very, very heavy, difficult kind of thing to listen to, and it was painful."

Others wondered at the time if Kerry had made peace with his memories. Jack Smith, a veteran from Connecticut, says in a recent interview that he could see from Kerry's eyes that he was struggling as he listened to veterans telling painful war stories. Peggy Kerry says that her brother "had the anguish" shared by so many other vets just back from Vietnam; she says he suffered "indescribable pain" about the people who'd died in the war, and that he would sometimes wake up screaming from nightmares that continued even into his present marriage with Teresa Heinz Kerry. At a rally on Wall Street in April 1971, the files show, Kerry spoke of being "guilty" like everyone else in the country "for having allowed the war to go on"—a burden that, he said to me in a second interview, in 1989, could have "croaked" him if he had not been personally strong enough to deal with it.

Winter Soldier was held in Detroit because its sponsor, Jane Fonda, wanted to reach the "working class." By then, Kerry's public speaking had impressed two VVAW founders, Jan Barry and Sheldon Ramsdell. After Kerry's speech at Valley Forge, Ramsdell had told Peggy Kerry: "Whoa! He looks like Lincoln, and he sounds like a Kennedy. Get him on the road!" Kerry quickly became what the FBI calls several times "National Spokesman for VVAW."

But the Winter Soldier meeting received virtually no publicity, which bothered Kerry, and gave him an opening. He called upon VVAW leaders to demonstrate in Washington, a proposal that brought Kerry his first taste of the opposition that would drive him from the organization later in 1971. Many veterans, especially the grunts, were tired of being led by officers. Mike McCusker, a former Marine sergeant who was then VVAW Oregon coordinator, says the dispute was between the "top-downers versus the bottom-uppers." McCusker says he and the other bottom-uppers won—for the moment—but only by agreeing to go along with the demonstration in Washington, known as Operation Dewey Canyon III.

The next month, in February, McCusker recalls walking into VVAW's national office in New York and discovering to his dismay that Kerry was in charge of the meeting. Organization leaders were gathering for their first national steering committee meeting. Kerry looked "stiff and starchy," a "top-downer" if McCusker had ever seen one. But, he says, Kerry won him over in two ways. First, he saw that as the room filled with vets, Kerry loosened up, as if these truly were his brothers, people with whom he felt safe and comfortable. Second, Kerry began sounding unlike an officer, talking about his Paris trip to meet the North Vietnamese and Viet Cong delegates and about his great respect for the Vietnamese. Kerry and McCusker developed an immediate rapport.

After the New York meeting, Kerry began stumping the country to raise funds for the demonstration in Washington. FBI files show that the agency was unsure what to make of him, for despite his tailored suits, Gucci loafers and "JFK" monogrammed sweaters that other vets kidded him about, and despite the patrician manners and stock patriotic phrases, Kerry seemed to harbor, and at times openly express, some fairly radical beliefs. The files contain an array of his edgy political positions, including his statement in Philadelphia that "Ho Chi Minh is the George Washington of Vietnam." Southeastern VVAW coordinator Scott Camil says that he heard Kerry make the comment several times. Also in Philadelphia, according to the files, Kerry noted Ho Chi Minh's understanding of the United States Constitution and his efforts "to install the same provisions into the government of Vietnam."

Kerry also attacked President Richard Nixon as relentlessly as he praised Ho Chi Minh, but his criteria for both, Camil says, was honesty and sincerity. What Kerry held most against Nixon was that he had been elected in 1968 on a promise to end the war, yet by mid 1971, Nixon had extended the ground war into Laos and Cambodia and had begun plans to massively escalate the air war against North Vietnam. "Nixon ran 3 1/2 years ago saying, 'I have the secret plan for peace,' " the files say Kerry told one audience, "and now, the only promise he has kept is that the plan is still a secret."

Though Kerry at times lectured VVAW to stick to the single issue of ending the war, and to eschew attacks on racism, poverty and other broader issues, Kerry himself often condemned social injustices. He told an audience in Reno that, "The United States has become a society based on whose ox is being gored," and in Oklahoma City, he warned, according to a newspaper account, that the country must change its political power structure to avoid violent efforts to seize power.

Anyone who thinks, as some veterans do, that the young Kerry calculated his remarks with an eye toward running for president some day will have to deal with the many unequivocal charges he made against his own government and society as recorded in the FBI documents. At times, Kerry sounded more like Eugene Debs than today's typical Republicrat. One newspaper reported: "Kerry said it is wrong for some persons to make millions of dollars and pay no taxes while others barely making a living have to pay them," and that "of 234 congressmen's sons eligible for service in Vietnam, only 24 went there and only one of them was wounded."

Indeed, the files show that Kerry was far from politically correct even within his own organization. He joined in the dedication of Victor Westphall's Vietnam War memorial, an activity hardly prescribed for VVAW leaders, in Angel Fire, N.M., on May 18, 1971. Nixon sent a supportive letter about the memorial to Westphall that month. An FBI agent, apparently spotting the potential for embarrassing Kerry by putting him on the same side of an issue with Nixon, forwarded both texts to the bureau's Washington office.

The Kansas state coordinator for VVAW, John Musgrave, who spoke beside Kerry at a couple of colleges, says that Kerry impressed him by "always speaking directly from the pain and misery of a combat veteran. He adds, "I believed every word he said in those days." Musgrave, a Marine veteran who almost lost his life to three AK-47 rounds, recalls that Kerry touched hearts with his honesty and deep feeling—as though he were speaking for America's conscience. He believes that Kerry played a major role because "the nation needs to hear what combat vets have to say, and Kerry was able to tell them." Musgrave is angry at Kerry today mainly because he believes that Kerry "has stopped speaking that way, and he owes it to the American people to speak like that again—like a human being, not a politician."

...

Tuesday, May 25, 2004 - 21:20

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Columnist John Nichols, in the Wisconsin Capital Times (May 25, 2004):

When she served as chair of the National Endowment for the Humanities under former Presidents Ronald Reagan and George H.W. Bush, Lynne Cheney established herself as an outspoken advocate for the teaching of history in the public schools.

She even published a groundbreaking report, "American Memory," which argued that a slackening commitment to teach history fully and accurately posed a genuine threat to coming generations.

"A system of education that fails to nurture memory of the past denies its students a great deal: the satisfactions of mature thought, an attachment to abiding concerns, a perspective on human existence," Cheney argued in the report.

Since leaving the National Endowment for the Humanities, Cheney has continued her advocacy on behalf of history education as a senior fellow with the American Enterprise Institute, a right-wing "think tank" based in Washington, and more recently as the nation's second lady....

The wife of Vice President Dick Cheney has made a name for herself in recent years by organizing the James Madison Book Award Fund, which has been established to present a yearly award of $10,000 to the author of the book that does the best job of bringing knowledge and understanding of American history to young people.

With that sort of track record, one might presume that Lynne Cheney would treat history with reverence. But, obviously, she does not feel so inclined.

In La Crosse Friday night to deliver a pep talk to delegates at the Wisconsin Republican Convention, Cheney was peddling some of the most bizarre revisionist history since Stalin stopped rewriting Soviet textbooks.

After repeating the standard Republican spin of attacks on presumptive Democratic presidential nominee John Kerry, Cheney declared George Bush to be a model of presidential propriety and advancement. "These 3 years have provided a textbook case of outstanding leadership at the head of our government."

"A textbook case of outstanding leadership"? George Bush?

George Bush's presidency has been a textbook case of something, all right, but that something is certainly not "outstanding leadership."...

"Outstanding leadership"? By comparison to whom? Herbert Hoover? Richard Nixon? Ronald Reagan?

Only a revisionist history that abandons the truth in order to score cheap political points would even attempt to put George W. Bush in the "outstanding" category when it comes to American presidents. If Bush is lucky, he will be remembered by historians as one of the lesser crooked presidents, a James K. Polk or Warren Harding for the 21st century.

More likely, however, he will be remembered in a darker light, as a Nixon without intellect or, worse yet, as the final, malignant stage of Reaganism.

Whatever the precise fate of Bush's legacy once it is handed off to the historians, it is safe to say that the judgment of honest scholars will not be kind.


Tuesday, May 25, 2004 - 20:24