As one who regards Gerry Ford as our greatest President (least time served, least damage done, husband of Betty, plus Stevens as his contribution to the Supreme Court), I’d always imagined the man from Grand Rapids would never be surpassed in sheer slowness of thought. When a reporter asked Ford a question it was like watching that great sequence in Rossellini’s film about Louis XIV, when a shouted command is relayed at a stately pace through a dozen intermediaries from the kitchen to the royal ear. In Ford’s case, to watch a message negotiate the neural path from ear to cortex was to see a hippo wade through glue.
But I think Bush has Ford beat. Had he ever made a mistake, the reporter asked at that White House press conference. The President’s face remained composed, masking the turmoil and terror raging within, as his cerebrum went into gridlock. It should have been easy for him. Broad avenues of homely humility beckoned. “John, no man can stand before his Creator as I do each day and say he is without error…” Reagan would have hit the ball out of the park. But the President froze. He said he’d have to think it over.
Behind all the liberal hysteria over Bush as a demon of monstrous, Hitlerian proportions, I get the sense of a certain embarrassment, that the man is bringing the imperial office into disrepute. Hence we are served up those plaintive invocations of the distress of “America’s allies,” to be cured by a competent steward of empire like John Kerry. But should not all opponents of the American Empire’s global reach rejoice that Bush has sown confusion in the alliance? Would not the world be a safer and conceivably a better place if the allies saw separate paths as the sounder option? Gabriel Kolko, that great historian of American Empire, has been arguing powerfully (most recently in our CounterPunch newsletter) to this effect, and I agree with him.
With leadership of barely conceivable arrogance and incompetence (Paul Bremer alone is a case study in the decline in quality of American leadership in the past fifty years), the United States has managed the amazing feat of uniting Iraqis in detestation of its presence, and of leaving itself with zero palatable options. Amid this bloody disaster, with popular distaste for the occupation of Iraq swelling up in the polls, Kerry, with McCain at his elbow, has been goading Bush into sending more troops. As a prospective rationalizer of empire, Kerry sends forth the word that the Democrats are the Second Party of War.
With hardly a backward–or forward–look, the bulk of the surviving American left has blithely joined the Democratic Party center, without the will to inflect debate, the influence to inform policy or the leverage to share power. The capitulation of the left–a necessarily catchall word–is almost without precedent. By accepting the premises and practices of party unity, the left has negated the reasons for its own existence.
Let me produce a rabbit from its hat. I wrote that last paragraph, the one beginning “with hardly a backward look,” with Andrew Kopkind in a piece we did for The Nation in the summer of 1984, about Walter Mondale’s candidacy, where we noted the party’s commitment to “the essential elements of Reaganism: continued military expansion…further degradation of the welfare system, denial of black demands for equity and unqualified submission to the imperatives of the corporate system.” Any words you think should be changed?