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February 1, 2008 - January 25, 2008
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Happy New Year.
THE WORD ON THE FUTURE.
Here at InstaPunk, we hope you all had a wonderful Christmas season and
a joyfully optimistic celebration of the arrival of another new year.
We'll be back soon with a series of brief and wildly discrepant entries
on our varied thoughts about the end of 2006 and the beginning of 2007.
We seem to have acquired some new contributors along the way, so look
forward to even more craziness than we've mustered in the past.
Keep checking in. You won't have a long wait.
A Time for
Everything
FUNERALS. Let no
one mistake me on this point. I never had the least doubt that Gerald
R. Ford was a good man. I was moved by the Episcopal service at the
National Cathedral, as well as the eulogies and the gorgeous music,
including the Navy Hymn and Denyce Graves's extraordinary rendition of
The Lord's prayer. President Ford deserved the public contrition he
received regarding the Nixon pardon, and it was fitting that Nancy
Reagan should be there, and Jimmy Carter, and Rosalynn, and Bob
Woodward, and others who benefitted, directly or indirectly, from
Ford's preference for statesmanship over politics. The press coverage
was decent, the occasion suitably solemn, and the public response
gratifying.
It's just that I was struck by all that was left unsaid, particularly
about the ironic coincidence of a lavish Ford commemoration at this
precise moment in time.
Why ironic? All the eulogies focused on Ford's brief presidency,
largely ignoring the fact that he served as House Minority Leader for
many years when the Republican Party was not just a minority in the
U.S. Congress, but a woefully impotent minority almost invariably
crushed by the ruthless, veto-proof majority enjoyed by the Great
Society Democrats of Lyndon Johnson. In this context, Ford's renowned
affability was a political necessity, an accident of history that
perpetuated his career during the "long national nightmare" of post-FDR
Democratic dominance in American politics. Nixon had momentarily
threatened Democratic domination: LBJ knowingly fought a war he never
believed he could win and spent the nation into a state of
unprecedented deficits and inflation. Destroyed by his own
failure, Johnson refused to run for the second term he was entitled to
seek. In response, the Democrat Party imploded, nominating for the
presidency first the vice-president who was obviously complicit in the
twofold Vietnam/fiscal disaster and then an absurd candidate who ran on
the notion that a world continuously threatened by Soviet domination
would be better off with an American government committed to pacifism
at all costs. McGovern was rejected by a landslide. Nixon was offered a
renewed opportunity to run a gridlocked government capable of acting
almost unilaterally in foreign policy matters while restricted to
policy-making by veto on domestic matters.
Then Nixon was brought down by a combination of his own paranoia and
mass media vindictiveness. (I'm not going to argue the case for media
bias except to note that the press could have -- at virtually any time
-- finished off JFK for sex and drug offenses and LBJ for manifold,
blatant acts of financial and political corruption; they simply chose
not to.)
Gerald Ford, the man compelled by his own life's history to become an
expert at playing a losing hand, fell into the role of designated
sacrifical lamb -- and in some ways the ideal figurehead -- to placate
the brand-new overwhelming Democratic majority which took over the U.S.
Congress in the wake of Watergate. His one real transgression in this
respect was the Nixon pardon.
It takes some digging to uncover the congressional background which accounted for most of Ford's political life and which received so
little attention in his funeral coverage, but here's a taste (courtesy
of
Dana
Blankenhorn) recounted by Peggy Noonan back in May 2006:
What did the Republicans do all those
days, from the 1930s through the '70s? They griped and wrung their
hands and were alarmed. "This irresponsible spending and taxing will do
us in," "You're taxing the genius and incentive right out of the
economy!" Journalists heard it once a week every week Congress was in
session in the 1950s and '60s, from Senate Minority Leader Everett
Dirksen and House Minority Leader Gerald Ford. It was called the Ev and
Jerry show. They banged away on high spending, high taxing, the
unbalanced budget. "A million here, a million there and pretty soon
you're talking real money," Dirksen famously said, and it was funny at
the time because a million dollars was a lot of money.
This is what Gerald Ford's long career had trained him for. He vetoed
66 bills of the U.S. Congress, mostly for spending excesses, and was
sustained in all but 12. But he was powerless to stop, or even
articulate, the calamitous treachery of Congress's termination of
funding for the South Vietnamese military defense against the Communist
North Vietnamese. (You can't veto a refusal to pass a funding bill.)
This was the instance in which his famous affability was a disastrous
liability. The long ridiculed "domino argument" proved itself true
during Ford's presidency, costing the lives of more than a million
Cambodians and perhaps half as many of our Vietnamese allies.
That's real blood on American hands, and all of Gerald Ford's much
lauded decency, fairness, and nonpartisanship couldn't -- or didn't --
prevent it.
I'm amazed at the silence during the past week about the striking
parallels between the time of Ford's presidency and our own: the
election of a fiercely vindictive Democratic Congress during a period
of inflamed emotion over foreign policy, while a Republican president
is rendered weak by charges of corruption and failure within the ranks
of his own party. Was all the praise we heard for Gerald Ford a
subliminal suggestion that his
was
truly the most virtuous course -- bending to the irrational tide of
reaction and denial?
Even the current President Bush seemed to be swept up in the desire to
worship the spotless nonpartisanship of Gerald Ford. Or was George W.
Bush a captive in this circumstance of his own native decency? There
were times during some of the eulogies offered at the National
Cathedral when I thought I saw the old steel in his his eyes, perhaps
because of something being intimated from the pulpit...
Perhaps Tom Brokaw, or some of the old "realists" in the Ford funeral
congregation, are looking forward to another costly lapse in American
principles about loyalty, but I'm not yet convinced that's true of the
President of the United States.
But I am concerned about his penchant for decency. Sometimes, it can
lead you astray. I've written before about Gerald Ford's
great
senatorial counterpart in the Democrat-dominated Congress of the
1960s. I invoked him when the Democrats were threatening to filibuster
Republican judicial candidates. I said:
[T]he U.S. Senate is staggering ever
closer to a showdown between spineless Republicans and ruthless
Democrats on the question of whether Senate rules should allow the use
of f****u**ers in the 'advise and consent' process for judicial
nominees. Because of this, InstaPunk has felt the call of his political
conscience: he must, somehow, weigh in on a matter that is as crucial
as it is potentially fatal to reader interest.
So here are my thoughts. WAKE UP! (Not trying to be rude, just to
postpone the inevitable...) The Republicans act as if what they do now
will affect what Democrats do when they regain the White House and/or
control of the Congress. It won't. As soon as the Democrats regain the
presidency and congressional control, they will do everything they can
think of, bar nothing, to humiliate, castrate, and otherwise destroy
the Republican minority, regardless of any temporizing the Republicans
engage in now. Why? Because while the congressional Republicans were
majoring in agriculture and religion at cow colleges in the Red states,
the congressional Democrats were studying "The Prince" at Yale and
Harvard.
Today we have President Bush's attempt at
outreach
to the newly Democrat-controlled Congress. His attempt at compromise is
already being mocked by reports of what Speaker Pelosi intends to
accomplish during the "
First
Hundred Hours." Recent reports suggest the Democrats are planning
to run
roughshod
over any Republican attempts to modify legislation passed during those
first hundred hours (i.e., three weeks in human time).
As they prepare to take control of
Congress this week and face up to campaign pledges to restore
bipartisanship and openness, Democrats are planning to largely sideline
Republicans from the first burst of lawmaking.
House Democrats intend to pass a raft of popular measures as part of
their well-publicized plan for the first 100 hours. They include
tightening ethics rules for lawmakers, raising the minimum wage,
allowing more research on stem cells and cutting interest rates on
student loans.
But instead of allowing Republicans to fully participate in
deliberations, as promised after the Democratic victory in the Nov. 7
midterm elections, Democrats now say they will use House rules to
prevent the opposition from offering alternative measures, assuring
speedy passage of the bills and allowing their party to trumpet early
victories.
What are we to make, then, of all the recent praise of Gerald Ford's
nonpartisanship? Is this simply a convenient opportunity to fool
Republicans yet again by appealing to their civility? Is it a sly
restatement of the fundamental Democrat principle that nonpartisanship
is an obligation that attaches only to Republicans? Or is it instead a
ringing affirmation of the liberal article of faith that the only good
Republican is one who loses constantly and dies quietly and humbly?
Well, I can't think that Gerald R. Ford would consent in any of these
perversions of his character. He
was
the great ally of Everett Dirksen. He
was
a champion athlete who knew a great deal about battling and winning,
despite an adult experience to the contrary. What would he really think
about the various attempts to use him and his funeral for political
purposes?
Many of the media pundits were eager to cite the source of Gerald
Ford's title for his autobiography,
A
Time to Heal. It comes from Ecclesiastes, of course. The entire
quote reads:
To every thing there is a season, and a
time to every purpose under heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to
dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast
away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew;
A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate;
A time of war and a time of peace.
I think Gerald Ford wouldn't much approve of the rhetoric and hypocrisy
of Nancy Pelosi. He was an old-time Republican who defined himself in
opposition to the excesses of New Deal liberalism. But he also knew
immorality when he saw it. And is it sheer coincidence when we
encounter multiple references to "time" in this account of Everett
Dirksen's heroic fight for the Civil Rights bill of 1984?
The gallery was packed on June 10,
1964, as all one hundred senators were present for the climactic moment
of the longest f****u**er in Senate history. Late in the morning
Everett Dirksen rose from his seat to address the Senate. In poor
health, drained from working fourteen-, fifteen-, and sixteen-hour
days, his words came quietly. "There are many reasons why cloture
should be invoked and a good civil rights measure enacted. It is said
that on the night he died, Victor Hugo wrote in his diary substantially
this sentiment, 'Stronger than all the armies is an idea whose time has
come.' The time has come for equality of opportunity in sharing of
government, in education, and in employment. It must not be stayed or
denied." After Dirksen spoke for fifteen minutes the motion for a roll
call vote for cloture was heard. As each name was read, members of the
press and spectators in the gallery kept tally. At 11:15 a.m., Senator
John Williams of Delaware replied "aye" to the question. It was the
sixty-seventh vote; cloture had passed, opening the way for the Civil
Rights bill to be passed. After successfully defeating the
eighty-three-day f****u**er, Dirksen, when asked how he had become a
crusader in this cause, replied, "I am involved in mankind, and
whatever the skin, we are all included in mankind."
President Ford would have been appalled at the high-handed tactics of
such a scant majority as Nancy Pelosi commands. And he certainly would
not have countenanced any subliminal attempt to use the occasion of his
death to force "nonpartisanship" on his colleagues in the name of
reestablishing the Democratic dictatorship which coerced him into
accepting a genocide his Episcopalian soul unquestionably regretted for
the 40 years he lived beyond his presidency. If he was willing to end
his political career to heal the nation, he'd also have traded it -- if
he'd known how -- to save two million Indochinese lives.
Wherever he is now, I suspect he's opposed to making Iraq into a
Cambodian-Vietnamese genocide. He may even be holding an "Ev and Jerry"
press conference in heaven to protest it.
God rest his soul, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those
who trespass against us. Including Nancy. And Jimmy.
Amen.
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