Politics and pop, past and present.
“Congratulations, Class of 2014, you’re totally screwed”—that was the graduation message offered this season by Thomas Frank, Salon columnist and author of Pity the Billionaire. The average student-loan borrower graduating in 2014 is $33,000 in debt, according to the Wall Street Journal—the highest amount ever. And a new study of public universities shows that student debt is worst at schools with the highest-paid presidents.
The “most unequal” public university in America, according to the report, is Ohio State. Between 2010 and 2012 it paid its president, Gordon Gee, a total of almost $6 million, while raising tuition and fees so much that student debt grew 23 percent faster than the national average.
The only people on campus worse off than students with loans are the part-time faculty members—and they too were worst off at schools with the highest paid presidents. OSU, while paying its president $5.9 million, focused its faculty hiring on low wage part-timers, hiring 498 contingent and part-time but only forty-five permanent faculty members.
At the same time that the regular faculty has been shrinking, the number of administrators has been growing. During the period when OSU hired forty-five permanent faculty members, it hired 670 new administrators. A similar pattern is found throughout American universities.
The Institute for Policy Studies report, “The One Percent at State U: How University Presidents Profit from Rising Student Debt and Low-Wage Faculty Labor,” examined the relationship between executive pay, student debt and low-wage faculty labor at the twenty-five top-paying public universities. Co-authors Andrew Erwin and Marjorie Wood reported that money spent on administration at the highest-paying universities outpaced spending on scholarships by more than two to one.
“The high executive pay obviously isn’t the direct cause of higher student debt, or cuts in labor spending,” Ms. Wood told The New York Times. “But if you think about it in terms of the allocation of resources, it does seem to be the tip of a very large iceberg, with universities that have top-heavy executive spending also having more adjuncts, more tuition increases and more administrative spending.”
Why is this happening? “The motor force behind these trends is the hiring of ‘professional administrators’ whose primary commitment is to their own careers and advancement,” says William R. Schonfeld, former dean of social sciences and emeritus professor of political science at the University of California, Irvine (where I teach history). “They take jobs as stepping stones to other positions higher on the ladder.”
“To protect themselves,” Schonfeld says, “they grow the bureaucracy. They are committed to goals which can be relatively quickly achieved—more funds raised this year from the immediate business community, as compared to building a strong foundation for long-term giving by alumni; new schools and academic units, as compared to the tedious and slow process of building true distinction.”
The focus on quick results—not so different from corporations’ focus on quarterly profits—is responsible for the increase in both the number of administrators and their growing salaries. At Ohio State, “We’ve been hiring financial VPs from Wall Street and HR heads from private corporations,” says OSU’s Harvey Graff, professor of english and history and Ohio eminent scholar in literacy studies.
Average pay for university presidents continues to rise, according to the annual Chronicle of Higher Education survey. Nine chief executives earned more than $1 million in total compensation in 2012–13, the Chronicle reports, up from four the previous year. The median total compensation of the 256 presidents in the survey was $478,896, a 5 percent increase over the previous year.
So while university presidents are making huge salaries, Tom Frank explains, students “borrowed and forked over enormous sums in exchange for the privilege of hearing lectures…lectures that were then delivered by people who earned barely enough to stay alive. It is a double disaster of the kind that only we Americans are capable of pulling off.”
The schools that followed OSU on the “most unequal” list were, in order, Penn State, and the universities of Michigan, Minnesota and Delaware.
What is to be done? The IPS study suggests that debt relief for college grads is the number-one task—and recommends Senator Elizabeth Warren’s “Bank on Students Loan Fairness Act,” which would refinance student loans at 3.86 percent—cutting almost in half the payments required of students currently carrying loans at 6.8 percent. Warren’s bill would pay for the lower interest rates by adopting the “Buffett Rule,” which would raise the marginal tax rate on income in excess of $1 million.
Also, the IPS study says, state legislatures should limit pay for administrators, and require that spending on non-academic administration be pegged to money spent on scholarships—the authors suggest the ratio should be two to one. “Bringing down spending on administration while increasing scholarships will help make college more affordable and discourage rapid tuition increases,” the report argues. The authors also favor granting organizing rights to part-time adjunct faculty.
Read Next: Justine Drennan on the fight to save San Francisco’s public university
August 8 will be the fortieth anniversary of Nixon’s resignation. That’s a good target date for the long-overdue appointment of a new director of the Nixon Library in Yorba Linda, California.
The library has been without a director for two and a half years, ever since the departure of Timothy Naftali in 2011. He presided over the installation of the new, historically accurate Watergate exhibit—his number-one duty after the Nixon Foundation agreed in 2007 to bring the library, which opened in 1990, into the National Archives presidential library system.
Before that, Nixon had been the only president to refuse to cooperate with the National Archives, which ran all the other presidential museums. In 1974, Congress insisted that the Archives, rather than Nixon himself, have control of all of his presidential papers and tapes. The result was a seventeen-year standoff during which the Nixon Foundation ran a private museum in Yorba Linda that served as the nation’s center of Watergate denial, defying the National Archives.
Now the standoff has returned. The Nixon Library has no director because the Nixon Foundation, run by old-time Nixon loyalists and family members, blocked the appointment of the candidate selected by the National Archives: Mark Atwood Lawrence, an associate professor of history at the University of Texas in Austin. Lawrence is a respected middle-of-the-road scholar who was fully qualified for the job; he’s the author of The Vietnam War: A Concise International History, published in 2010 by Oxford University Press.
But the Nixon Foundation didn’t want Lawrence. Ron Walker, chairman of the Foundation’s board of directors, told Daniel Langhorne of the Orange County Register that he was concerned about Lawrence’s “perspective” on Vietnam. “It was just different,” Walker said. “I’m not going any further on that.”
How different was it? Lawrence doesn’t call Nixon a madman or a war criminal, but he does challenge those in the Nixon administration who argued at the time that an American defeat in Vietnam would do irreparable damage to US influence in the world. In the scholarly journal History: Reviews of New Books, the reviewer of Lawrence’s book wrote that “for a subject that has all too often inspired overwrought critiques of the various parties involved in the conflict, it is refreshing to have a synthesis that adopts a more neutral and dispassionate view of the Vietnam War.”
Lawrence wasn’t exactly vetoed, but the foundation made clear their hostility to him, and eventually he withdrew his application.
The power to appoint directors of presidential libraries rests with the archivist of the United States, currently David Ferrio. He has been deferring to the Nixon loyalists and family members, but his responsibility is to the American people. The National Archives’ mission is “to serve American democracy by safeguarding and preserving the records of our Government.”
The problem is now approaching a crisis because the foundation, which funds the exhibits and public programs of the museum, has announced plans for a $15 million renovation of the exhibits. Apparently, it prefers to do this without a director in place to oversee the historical accuracy of what it has in mind.
The number-one exhibit in need of revision, not surprisingly, is the one concerning Vietnam. Currently the museum devotes more space to the return of American POWs from North Vietnam than it does to the war itself. The result is an exhibit that suggests America was fighting in Vietnam to get our POWs back.
Redesigning the exhibits in Yorba Linda should be the work of a professional director committed to a nonpartisan and historically accurate museum, not one deferring to old-time loyalists and family members who want a shrine that celebrates the life of their hero. Archivist David Ferrio needs to make that appointment before the fortieth anniversary of Nixon’s resignation on August 8.
Read Next: Will the State Department torpedo its last great program?
For more than a century, May 1 has been celebrated as International Workers’ Day. It’s a national holiday in more than eighty countries. But here in the land of the free, May 1 has been officially declared “Loyalty Day” by President Obama. It’s a day “for the reaffirmation of loyalty”—not to the international working class, but to the United States of America.
Obama isn’t the first president to declare May 1 Loyalty Day—that was President Eisenhower, in 1959, after Congress made it an official holiday in the fall of 1958. Loyalty Day, the history books explain, was “intended to replace” May Day. Every president since Ike has issued an official Loyalty Day proclamation for May 1.
The presidential proclamation always calls on people to “display the flag.” In case you were wondering, that’s the stars and stripes, not the red flag. Especially in the fifties, if you didn’t display the stars and stripes on Loyalty Day, your neighbors might conclude that you were some kind of red.
During the 1930s and 1940s, May Day parades in New York City involved hundreds of thousands of people. Labor unions, Communist and Socialist parties, and left-wing fraternal and youth groups would march down Fifth Avenue and end up at Union Square for stirring speeches on class solidarity.
Socialists meeting in Union Square, May 1, 1908 (Courtesy: Library of Congress)
In the fifties, Loyalty Day parades replaced May Day parades. If you Google “Loyalty Day parade,” you get a quarter of a million hits. Long Beach, California, claims to have “the longest consecutively running loyalty commemoration in the nation!” (Exclamation point theirs.) The Veterans of Foreign Wars started theirs in 1950, nine years before Ike’s declaration. This year’s Loyalty Day parade in Long Beach will be the same as always: high school marching bands, vintage cars, riders on horses and floats, as well as the required military color guard. Also clowns.
The first May Day proclamation made the Cold War context pretty clear: “Loyalty to the United States of America,” Ike said, “is essential to the preservation of our freedoms in a world threatened by totalitarianism.” That was the idea: “we” represented freedom, and “they” were “the enemies of freedom.” Of course, in 1959 our “freedoms” included segregation for blacks and blacklisting for reds, and our “Free World” allies included dictators and tyrants like Chiang Kai-Shek in Formosa, Marcos in the Philippines, the Shah in Iran and whoever was running South Korea.
Obama’s proclamation in 2013 said that on Loyalty Day we should reaffirm our commitment to “liberty, equality, and justice for all.” That’s not terribly original, but it’s not bad—especially if he really means “all” people. Skeptics might suggest his statement is an empty cliché; they might point to many cases where Obama has denied liberty, equality and justice to all (one example: US citizens killed without a trial).
In Los Angeles, where I live, the biggest parade on May 1 came in 2006, when 400,000 people marched down Wilshire Boulevard for immigrants’ rights. They carred signs that said “Si se puede!” (“Yes we can”) and “This land is your land/This land is my land.” That May 1 was May Day—and it was a lot better than Loyalty Day.
Read Next: Peter Van Buren on life inside the new minimum wage economy
Elizabeth Kolbert is a New Yorker staff writer; her new book is The Sixth Extinction: An Unnatural History. This interview has been edited and condensed.
Jon Wiener: Your work on species extinction began with a report on a poisonous frog in Panama.
Elizabeth Kolbert: Yes, the Panamanian golden frog. It’s New York taxicab yellow, with very dark eyes and thin limbs and long fingers. A decade ago, a fungal disease moved through Central America attacking frogs. That fungus is now all around the world, imported everywhere by people moving amphibians around. The Panamanian golden frog is now extinct in the wild—although some have been saved in a sterile facility in Panama.
How many species right now are headed for extinction?
Amphibians have the dubious distinction of being the most threatened class of animals—40 percent are classified as threatened with extinction, and very high numbers have already gone extinct. They are probably followed by mammals: one-quarter of all mammals are classified as endangered. As many as a third of all reef-building corals are endangered. Plus one-fifth of all reptiles, and one-sixth of all birds are endangered and facing extinction. And we have statistics only on a few groups; with most species of living things we don’t even know what’s out there.
The last wave of extinctions came when an asteroid wiped out the dinosaurs and their world. What’s different about the species extinction that threatens now?
Scientists say now we’re the asteroid. This extinction event is unique because it’s being caused by a living thing.
You got to go on many trips to exciting places to do your research. I loved your trip to One Tree Island on the Great Barrier Reef.
That was a wonderful experience. One Tree Island is made completely of dead coral, with some dirt on top of it. Scientists there were doing an experiment that required walking across the reef at low tide. We went out in the middle of the night. It was spectacular: the stars were so bright, and on the reef waiting for high tide were enormous loggerhead turtles, huge giant clams in amazing colors, bright blue starfish and ruddy octopuses in tide pools—the fantastic array of life that lives on a reef.
You quote Darwin saying, “Coral reefs rank high amongst the wonderful objects in the world.”
Yes, and scientists say it is likely that the reefs will be the first entire ecosystem in the modern era to become extinct.
Is that because of global warming?
It’s because we are changing the chemistry of the oceans. When we pour CO2 into the air we are in effect also pouring it into the water. And when you dissolve CO2 in water it forms an acid. We’re acidifying the oceans. As a result the corals are having a hard time.
You didn’t have to go to the Australia or Panama to find devastating evidence of species extinction—you went to a bat cave near your home in western Massachusetts.
Almost anywhere you go these days you’re going to find tremendous upheaval in the natural world. Our bats in New England hibernate for the winter. It turns out they now have a fungus that irritates them and wakes them up. They don’t have the fat reserves to get through the winter if they wake up. They need to stay in a deep state of hibernation. But they wake up, they fly around, and they drop dead. This fungus is spreading rapidly—it’s in at least twenty-two states now, and a lot of Canada. It’s also transported by people. As a result bat populations in the northeastern US have been plummeting.
You found another way we are changing the planet, and something new to worry about: ballast water!
We’re moving a lot of species around every day. When you bring species together that have been living on separate continents or in separate oceans, bad things can happen. Our huge supertankers take on ballast water that has many small animals. Then they dump that water, often in an entirely different ocean. So we are moving species around the world—estimates are 10,000 species are moved every day in ballast water. That doesn’t count species moved in planes, and in our luggage.
We have the endangered species protection act in America—it was passed a long time ago, in 1974, and is often ridiculed for protecting obscure fish or birds in places slated for real estate development. How successful has it been?
There have been some iconic successes: the California condor. For many species it has staved off extinction—absolutely. But to get a species listed has become very difficult. Many species are stacked up waiting for their listing. When you’re officially designated an endangered species there has to be a recovery plan. That’s good. But the problem now is that the kinds of threats that are emerging—climate change—make it very hard to come up with a rescue plan. We’re getting into complicated territory.
It’s easy to feel hopeless about species extinction. Do you have an answer to the question “What is to be done?” Do you have a six-point plan? Do you have hope at this point?
I wrote the book to bring this issue into awareness. I didn’t write it because I have a six-point plan. Unfortunately I don’t think anyone has a plan. But an obvious first step is that we’ve got to agree to start minimizing our impact on the planet. To be honest, right now we seem to be moving in the opposite direction.
Read more of The Nation’s special #MyClimateToo coverage:
Mark Hertsgaard: Why TheNation.com Today Is All About Climate
Christopher Hayes: The New Abolitionism
Naomi Klein: The Change Within: The Obstacles We Face Are Not Just External
Dani McClain: The ‘Environmentalists’ Who Scapegoat Immigrants and Women on Climate Change
Mychal Denzel Smith: Racial and Environmental Justice Are Two Sides of the Same Coin
Katrina vanden Heuvel: Earth Day’s Founding Father
Wen Stephenson: Let This Earth Day Be The Last
Katha Pollitt: Climate Change is the Tragedy of the Global Commons
Michelle Goldberg: Fighting Despair to Fight Climate Change
George Zornick: We’re the Fossil Fuel Industry’s Cheap Date
Dan Zegart: Want to Stop Climate Change? Take the Fossil Fuel Industry to Court
Jeremy Brecher: ‘Jobs vs. the Environment’: How to Counter the Divisive Big Lie
Dave Zirin: Brazil’s World Cup Will Kick the Environment in the Teeth
Steven Hsieh: People of Color Are Already Getting Hit the Hardest by Climate Change
John Nichols: If Rick Weiland Can Say “No” to Keystone, So Can Barack Obama
Michelle Chen: Where Have All the Green Jobs Gone?
Peter Rothberg: Why I’m Not Totally Bummed Out This Earth Day
Leslie Savan: This Is My Brain on Paper Towels
Mickey Rooney, who died April 6, had many fans, including 10-year-old Gore Vidal. “What I really wanted to be,” Vidal wrote in his memoir Point to Point Navigation, “was a movie star: specifically, I wanted to be Mickey Rooney.” The inspiration? Not the “Hey kids, let’s put on a show” musicals Rooney made for MGM with Judy Garland—it was his role as Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, directed by Max Reinhardt and released in 1935, when Rooney was 14. “I wanted to play Puck, as he had,” Vidal recalled.
Gore took his first step toward becoming a movie star in a 1936 newsreel, when he took off and landed a plane—under the supervision of his father, the director of Air Commerce for Franklin Delano Roosevelt. The idea was to show that anybody could fly a plane, even a kid. So Gore took off and landed for the cameras—and then faced the newsreel interviewer. But he had trouble speaking; “I resembled not Mickey Rooney but Peter Lorre in M,” he recalled. “My screen test had failed.”
Nevertheless Mickey Rooney’s Puck changed Gore Vidal’s life. “Bewitched” by the performance, he recalled, “I read the play, guessing at half the words; then, addicted to this strange new language, I managed to read most of Shakespeare before I was sixteen.” Vidal became a writer instead of a movie star, and the rest is history.
Even today Rooney’s Puck remains striking. David Thomson wrote in his Biographical Dictionary of Film that the performance remains “one of cinema’s most arresting pieces of magic.”
I ran into Mickey Rooney on a LA–New York flight shortly after Gore Vidal’s memoir was published. He looked old and tired. I asked him if he had seen what Gore Vidal wrote about him in his new memoir. He said “no,” and made it clear that he was irritated at the unwanted interruption. I told him how inspired the young Gore had been by Mickey’s Puck. Rooney paused, and then smiled his famous smile. “Gore Vidal—wow!” he said.
He thanked me, and I went back to my seat.
Read Next: Jon Wiener commemorates the life and work of Gore Vidal.
Peter Matthiessen, the legendary writer who died April 5, had one of his most important books withdrawn from publication for seven years as a result of attacks by government officials and the cowardice of his publisher, Viking Penguin.
It's a story overlooked in many of the obits. Published in 1983, In The Spirit of Crazy Horse provided a passionate and solidly documented account of the events that culminated in a 1975 gun battle on the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota between FBI agents and members of the American Indian Movement (AIM) that left two agents and one Indian dead. The book also described the miserable history of government treatment of Native Americans in South Dakota.
The New York Times Book Review called In the Spirit of Crazy Horse “one of those rare books that permanently change one’s consciousness.” The Washington Post called it “extraordinary,” “complex,” and “powerful.” The Los Angeles Times called it "A giant of a book...indescribably touching, extraordinarily intelligent."
In the trial following the shootout, Leonard Peltier, an Ojibwa-Sioux AIM activist, was convicted of murdering the agents; now 69, he is serving consecutive life sentences at a federal penitentiary in Florida. Matthiessen’s book presented compelling evidence that Peltier was innocent. Others agree; Amnesty International, among others, has called for his release.
Shortly after the book’s publication, South Dakota’s governor, William Janklow, filed a libel suit against Matthiessen and his publisher, Viking Press, seeking $24 million in damages. He said the book was defamatory because it portrayed him as “a racist and a bigot.” An FBI agent involved in the case, David Price, filed a second suit for $25 million, claiming he too had been defamed when the book portrayed him as “corrupt and vicious” in his treatment of Indians on the reservation.
Viking Penguin didn’t wait for a judgment against them before taking action against Matthiessen. The publisher responded to the lawsuits by destroying the copies of the book it had in its warehouse and taking it out of print.
Litigation proceeded for seven years in four different courts in two states, with Martin Garbus representing Viking and Matthiessen. Matthiessen was supported by amicus briefs from Kurt Vonnegut, William Styron, John Irving, Alfred Kazin and Susan Sontag of PEN.
The libel cases were finally thrown out of court in 1990. ''Speech about government and its officers, about how well or badly they carry out their duties, lies at the very heart of the First Amendment,” declared Judge Diana E. Murphy of the US district court in Minneapolis. “It is this form of speech which the framers of the Bill of Rights were most anxious to protect. Criticism of government is entitled to the maximum protection of the First Amendment.''
Viking at last reissued the book as a Penguin paperback in 1991. In the meantime, the strongest and most eloquent case for Peltier’s innocence, and one of Matthiessen’s greatest books, had been kept from the public—for seven years.
Matthiessen was “horrified and indignant” over the destruction of his books, his wife Maria told me. “I did not agree to the destruction of my books,” Matthiessen himself told me in a 1993 interview for The Nation. “I didn’t know about it. They never should have withdrawn the book in the first place.”
[Adapted from Jon Wiener, “Murdered Ink,” The Nation, May 31, 1993.]
Read Next: Jon Wiener on the censorship of Hindu history books in India
When Penguin Books announced on February 11 that it would withdraw from India and pulp The Hindus: An Alternative History in response to a lawsuit claiming the book “has hurt the religious feelings of millions of Hindus,” it was only the latest in a series of surrenders by distinguished publishers in the face of militant Hindu fundamentalism. The book, by Wendy Doniger, a distinguished professor of religion at the University of Chicago, had been described by Pankaj Mishra, writing in The New York Times, as “a salutary antidote to the fanatics” who seek “a culturally homogenous and militant nation-state.”
Debates about alternative views of Indian history, William Dalrymple wrote in The New York Review of Books in 2005, “have in India become the subject of political rallies and mob riots.” The most disturbing precursor to Penguin’s decision came in 2005, when Oxford University Press withdrew a scholarly book, Shivaji: Hindu King in Islamic India, by James W. Laine, a professor at Macalester College in St. Paul. Oxford acted after an attack on one of India’s leading centers of historical research, the Bhandarkar Oriental Institute in the town of Pune, southeast of Mumbai. As Dalrymple describes the incident, “Just after 10 AM, as the staff were opening up the library, a cavalcade of more than twenty jeeps drew up. Armed with crowbars, around two hundred Hindu militants poured into the institute, cutting the telephone lines. Then they began to tear the place apart. The militants overturned the library shelves, and for the next few hours they kicked around the books and danced on them, damaging an estimated 18,000 volumes before the police arrived.”
The Institute’s crime? Laine had thanked the institute in the acknowledgements to his book, which offended Hindu nationalists because, as Dalrymple explains it, Laine wrote that the parents of the seventeenth-century Hindu leader Shivaji “lived apart for most if not all of Shivaji’s life,” adding that some Indians “tell jokes naughtily suggesting that his guardian Dadaji Konddev was his biological father.” That was taken as a suggestion that the Hindu hero was illigitimate. In respose to protests, Oxford quickly withdrew the book from the Indian market, and was promptly criticized by many leading Indian newspapers for succumbing to what one described as the “Talibanization” of India.
But the campaign against the Oxford book and author continued. The militants who carried out the attack in Pune held public meetings, Dalrymple reports, “announcing that they wanted every Indian named in the book’s acknowledgments to be arrested, questioned, and tried.” Election campaigns were underway, and the prime minister issued a “warning to all foreign authors that they must not play with our national pride. We are prepared to take action against the foreign author [Laine] in case the state government fails to do so.” The Congress Party, heir to Nehru, “announced that they had instructed the CBI (the Indian equivalent of the FBI) ’to arrest Laine through Interpol,’” Dalrymple reports.
Wendy Doniger, author of the book Penguin has just withdrawn, is no stranger to Hindu fundamentalist protests, and not just inside India. In 2003 she gave a lecture on the Ramayana, the great Hindu epic, at the School of Oriental and African Studies in London, where Dalrymple was moderator. He recalled that “midway through the lecture, a man stood up, walked threateningly toward the podium, and threw an egg at Doniger, which narrowly missed her. During the questions that followed the lecture, Doniger faced a barrage of insults from a group who had come with the egg-thrower, and who maintained that as a non-Hindu she was unqualified to comment on their religion.”
After Penguin agreed to withdraw and pulp the Wendy Doniger book, PEN India declared that “the removal of books from our bookshops, bookshelves, and libraries, whether through state-sanctioned censorship, private vigilante action, or publisher capitulation are all egregious violations of free speech that we shall oppose in all forms at all times.”
Arundati Roy wrote an open letter to Penguin, which she said was “my publisher”: in The Times of India, she declared, “Everybody is shocked at what you have gone and done….Even though there was no fatwa, no ban, not even a court order, you have not only caved in, you have humiliated yourself abjectly before a fly-by-night outfit by signing settlement.”
But Wendy Doniger herself said in a statement released by PEN India, “I do not blame Penguin Books, India.” They “took this book on,” she explained, “knowing that it would stir anger in the Hindutva ranks, and they defended it in the courts for four years, both as a civil and as a criminal suit.” The “true villain” of this case, she said, is not Penguin but rather “the Indian law that makes it a criminal rather than civil offense to publish a book that offends any Hindu, a law that jeopardizes the physical safety of any publisher, no matter how ludicrous the accusation brought against a book.”
Arundati Roy replied that Penguin has “all the resources anybody could possibly need to fight a legal battle.” Had the publisher stood its ground, she told Penguin, “you would have had the weight of enlightened public opinion behind you, and the support of most—if not all—of your writers.” Many others agreed, including the National Book Critics Circle in the US, which had named The Hindus a finalist in 2009 for its nonfiction prize. It called on Penguin Books India to “reconsider its deplorable decision,” calling it “a de facto act of self-censorship that will only contribute to a further rolling back of free speech in India.”
Read Next: 2014 could be a rocky year for US-India relations.
November 15, 1969—“Vietnam Moratorium Day”—nearly half a million people gathered on the mall in Washington DC, to protest the war, and Pete Seeger was on the stage. “I guess I faced the biggest audience I’ve ever faced in my life,” he told me in an 1981 interview. “Hundreds of thousands, how many I don’t know. They stretched as far as the eye could see up the hillside and over the hill.”
The song he sang was “Give Peace a Chance,” John Lennon’s first non-Beatles recording. He had wanted to sing it in the US, but Nixon’s INS wouldn’t let him in the country, so he sang it, and recorded it, at a bed-in in Montreal.
“I’d only heard the song myself a few days before,” Pete recalled, “and I confess when I first heard it I didn’t think much of it. I thought, ‘That’s kind of a nothing of a song, it doesn’t go anyplace.’ I heard a young woman sing it at a peace rally. I never heard Lennon’s record. I didn’t know if the people there had ever heard it before. But I decided to try singing it over and over again, until they did know it.
“Well, we started singing, and after a minute or so I realized it was still growing. Peter, Paul and Mary jumped up onstage and started joining in. A couple of more minutes, and Mitch Miller hops up on the stage and starts waving his arms. I realized it was getting better and better. The people started swaying their bodies and banners and flags in time, several hundred thousand people, parents with their small children on their shoulders. It was a tremendously moving thing.”
Pete Seeger’s great work was not just singing the songs, but getting everybody else to sing them—getting his audience, us, to sing. A lot of us had that experience: for me it was at Coffman Memorial Union at the University of Minnesota, when I was a kid, and Pete was onstage alone with his banjo, and we were all singing, in harmony. Of his concerts, Robert S. Cantwell wrote, “Pete spread wide his arms as we sang to him, and it changed me. It was 30 years ago, and I have not changed back.”
Read Next: Peter Dreier chronicles the life and legacy of Pete Seeger.
Dick Cheney came to the Nixon Library this week to talk about his new book, Heart—it’s about his five heart attacks and his heart transplant. When our most hated vice president visits the library of our most disgraced president, you look forward to a good night. So my friend Howard and I went to Yorba Linda, expecting a festive evening of Obama-bashing and a twisted trip back through the glories of the Bush years.
It turned out to be mostly a book event. Signed copies were for sale; Cheney did a Q&A about his book and took a few friendly questions. But the evening ended up as it had to: with Obamacare.
The news of Cheney’s heart transplant, in March 2012, had been welcomed by comedians everywhere. Jon Stewart declared it “the greatest joke setup ever.” Jay Leno had the best line: “This weekend, 71-year-old former Vice President Dick Cheney received a heart transplant. And I thought this was nice: they let him shoot the donor himself.”
On The Daily Show, Jon Stewart acted out the transplant surgery with himself as the surgeon; the old heart leapt out of Cheney’s chest and bit the terrified surgeon on the neck.
David Letterman said, “Finally all of those midnight trips to the graveyard with the hunchbacked assistant have paid off.”
Joan Rivers summed it up: “Rather surprised Dick Cheney got a heart, after lasting all these years without one.”
The Cheney event was held in the Nixon Library’s “East Room,” an exact replica of the room in the White House, with giant chandeliers, ornate wainscoting and a dozen flags in a row—except that the Yorba Linda version had two giant video screens so the audience of several hundred could see Cheney. The Q&A, conduced by Frank Gannon, a former Nixon assistant, was surprisingly lighthearted, given the somber subject of the book. Gannon’s list of questions couldn’t have been simpler: Tell us about your first heart attack—you were 37. Now tell us about your second.
Howard whispered to me, “It’s the organ recital.” He was referring to the old Jewish joke about the dinner table conversation of the aunts and uncles: “My liver isn’t doing so well,” “My kidneys hurt,” “I have angina.”
“Your third heart attack was my favorite,” Gannon said. It happened on the way into the House chamber in the Capitol to hear Reagan’s 1988 State of the Union speech. “I passed out,” Cheney said, and collapsed onto the floor. His press aide, who was with him, told him afterwards that “several of my colleagues, on their way to the speech, stepped over my body,” and kept going. As he told the story, Cheney chuckled. Those darn Congressmen.
After describing his heart transplant, Cheney thanked his doctor, who is his co-author, and the donor, who is anonymous. Howard whispered, “Notice that he didn’t thank God?”
The only question that got a big, excited response from the audience was, “Can you comment on Obamacare?” What was most significant in Cheney’s answer was what he did not say—the things said by right-wing media at the time of his transplant. The New York Post for example had run the headline, “Beware Obamacare: It might’ve killed Cheney.” The argument was that those dreaded “death panels” would have ruled that Cheney was too old—he was 71—and he would, therefore, have been denied a transplant. Breitbart.com said Obamacare required looking at cases like Cheney’s “as an avenue toward survival of the fittest.” The blog RedState declared, “A Poorer Man Than Dick Cheney Might’ve Died if ObamaCare was in Full Effect”—because of those death panels.
But as Gawker.com pointed out, pre-Obamacare transplant ethics already required that the age and future health of potential recipients be considered.
Cheney’s answer to the question about Obamacare was limited to a criticism about the tax on medical devices: “It really worries me,” he said, since stents had kept him alive for years. “I can’t think of a worse notion. If you want less of something, tax it”—an argument that the device tax will stifle innovation. Obama replies that all the industries that gain a windfall from the expansion of medical coverage should be taxed to help offset the cost of that expansion. But thirty Senate Democrats have called for the repeal of the device tax, including Al Franken and Amy Klobuchar from Minnesota, which happens to be the home of Medtronic, one of the country’s largest device manufacturers.
In any case it’s a tiny part of Obamacare, significant primarily as a Republican talking point.
Cheney had only one other argument against Obamacare: “A lot of Americans aren’t going to have the ability to go with one doctor”—which, he said, was the key to his successful treatment. Therefore, he concluded, Obamacare is “a bad idea; if I had my druthers, I’d repeal it.” This won lots of applause. My friend Howard said, “But 50 million Americans have no doctor at all, and they will get one under Obamacare.”
The hour came to an end. The audience applauded warmly; Cheney grinned and waved goodbye, and we headed up the freeway, back to liberal L.A.
Read Next: Zoë Carpenter on the NSA’s bad week.
November 22 is of course the fiftieth anniversary of the Kennedy assassination. I haven’t read all 1,000 books about it, but I have five favorites:
Don DeLillo, Libra
“We will build theories that gleam like jade idols,” says DeLillo’s surrogate, a CIA historian writing the secret history of Dallas. “We will follow the bullet trajectories backwards to the lives that occupy the shadows, actual men who moan in their dreams.” In the novel, two CIA veterans of the Bay of Pigs seek to arouse anti-Cuban sentiment by organizing an assassination attempt by a Castro supporter. But in their plan, the assassin—with an identity “made out of ordinary pocket litter”—will miss. DeLillo, as John Leonard wrote in The Nation, “is an agnostic about reality.”
Stephen King, 11/22/63
When Jake steps thru the secret passage in Al’s Diner in Maine, it takes him back to 1958; can he stick around and change the course of history by stopping Oswald before November 22, 1963? And what if he discovers that the conspiracy theorists were right, and JFK was shot by someone else? Eight hundred and fifty wonderful pages of time travel romance and adventure in a world where the food tastes better and the music is more fun—and where history itself resists change, with all its might.
Robert Caro, LBJ: The Passage of Power chapters 11–13
The assassination seen through LBJ’s eyes, one car back in the motorcade in Dealey Plaza: after Oswald’s first shot, Secret Service agent Rufus Youngblood shouted, “Get down! Get down!” Then LBJ “was on the floor, his face on the floor, with the weight of a big man lying on top of him,” as the two cars sped toward Parkland Hospital. When they arrived, Agent Youngblood said, ‘I want you and Mrs. Johnson to stick with me and the other agents as close as you can. We are going into the hospital and we aren’t gonna stop for anything or anybody. Do you understand?’ ‘Okay, pardner, I understand,’ Lyndon Johnson said.”
Norman Mailer, Oswald’s Tale
Mailer in his reporter-researcher mode: at age 70, he spent six cold months in Minsk, where Oswald had lived with his Russian wife Marina for thirty months starting in 1960. Mailer interviewed fifty people and used the KGB’s tapes from Oswald’s bugged apartment to paint a vivid picture of the dullness and misery of their lives. Mailer said he started “with a prejudice in favor of the conspiracy theorists,” but he found Oswald to have been a lonely Marxist megalomaniac and an angry loser. In the end, Robert Stone wrote in The New York Review of Books, Mailer had to conclude that “absurdity and common death gape far wider beneath us than high conspiracy, tragedy, or sacrifice.”
Vincent Bugliosi, Reclaiming History
An encyclopedia of assassination conspiracies, with each and every one refuted, “revealed as a fraud on the American public.” One thousand six hundred oversize pages, plus a CD with 1,100 pages of notes, written by the legendary criminal prosecutor. “No group of top-level conspirators,” he argues, “would ever employ someone as unstable and unreliable as Oswald to commit the biggest murder in history, no such group would ever provide its hit man with a twelve-dollar rifle to get the job done, and any such group would help its hit man escape or have a car waiting to drive him to his death, not allow him to be wandering out in the street, catching cabs and buses to get away, as we know Oswald did.”