| Weekend
Edition
December 8 / 9, 2007
Tragedy
of the Ridiculous White House
The
Coup Against Bush and Cheney
By ALEXANDER
COCKBURN
The
one thing a president cannot afford to be is ridiculous. This week
George Bush lurched into that fatal category and into the true twilight
of his presidency, festooned with all the traditional discomfitures.
Senior aides and close advisors parley with literary agents and
find compelling reason to quit the White House and spend more time
with their families. In public even the First Lady seems to edge
away from her stricken mate.
The
latest, fatal instrument of Bush’s public humiliation is the
National Intelligence Estimate proclaiming in its unclassified version
that Iran stopped trying to build a nuclear weapon in 2003, thus
deliberately, with humiliating clarity contradicting Bush and Cheney’s
unending invocation of the Iranian nuclear threat. For months the
blathersphere has quivered with predictions of a coup here in the
US coinciding with an attack on Iran. The bit they got wrong was
that their supposed perps turned out to be on the receiving end
and the coup was aimed at preventing such an attack.
Now,
in theory an NIE represents the objective consensus of 16 US intelligence
agencies on matters of national security. In practice it is a useful
guide to how a bunch of bureaucratic knife-fighters assess the balance
of forces in Washington.
In
2002 Bush and Cheney were strong enough to ram their dire assessments
of Iraq’s WMDs into the infamous October, 2002 NIE that began
with the assertion that “We judge that Iraq has continued
its weapons of mass destruction (WMD) programs … if left unchecked,
it probably will have a nuclear weapon during this decade.”
The 2002 NIE gave this prediction a “high confidence”
rating, while appending a dissent from the State Department’s
Intelligence Bureau.
The
cover story for the recently released NIE on Iran, with its u-turn
on previous assessments, is that new information suddenly became
available. In practice this means that in the late summer senior
intelligence officials figured the consensus in Washington and Wall
Street Iran against an attack on Iran was powerful enough for them
to lower the boom on the neo-cons. The latter have now retreated
in disarray to their bunkers at the Weekly Standard and the National
Review for a last stand, bellowing that it’s a filthy plot
by peaceniks in the State Department. Actually, it is, in part,
exactly that. It strikes at the neo-cons and it strikes at Israel,
which has staked much on firing the US to attack Iran.
“It’s no secret,” snarled the National Review
“that careerists at the CIA and State have been less interested
in implementing the president’s policies on Iran, Iraq, and
North Korea than in sabotaging them at every opportunity.”
The
Wall Street Journal’s nutty editorial page went further, fingering
‘hyper-partisan anti-Bush officials’ including Tom Fingar,
formerly of the State Department's Bureau of Intelligence and Research
as drafters of the treacherous NIE.
Humiliated
by the NIE which flatly contradicted all his recent claims about
Iran’s rush for nuclear weapons, Bush flailed away in his
Tuesday press conference, eliciting contempt as he claimed he’d
only just become aware of the NIE. “If that’s true,”
Senator Joe Biden declared, “ he has the most incompetent
staff in modern American history and he’s one of the most
incompetent presidents in modern American history.”
Only
the former CIA spook, Bob Baer – model for George Clooney
Jr’s CIA role in the film Syriana -- tried to give Bush a
better role than mere dupe and fall guy, claiming that Bush himself
had pushed for the NIE to go public. Motive? To head off an attack
on Iran, which would undercut any American successes in Iraq. One
can imagine one of America’s more Macchiavelian presidents
doing this, like FDR or LBJ, but Bush?
The
only ray of comfort for the president was that Hillary Clinton chose
the start of the week to make herself equally ridiculous, if not
more so. As she slipped behind Barrack Obama in the polls in Iowa,
her campaign issued a press release on December 3 designed to paint
Obama as a man consumed by ruthless, lifelong ambition: “In
kindergarten, Senator Obama wrote an essay titled 'I Want to Become
President.’ "Iis Darmawan, 63, Senator Obama's kindergarten
teacher, remembers him as an exceptionally tall and curly haired
child who quickly picked up the local language and had sharp math
skills. He wrote an essay titled, 'I Want To Become President,'
the teacher said."
In kindergarten! As the Clinton campaign might say, echoing St Ignatius
of Loyola, “Give me the child until he is seven, and we’ll
do a good smear job on him.”
Du
côté de chez Mme. Defarge
Paris Diary (part 2)
“This
is France, not North Korea,” snarled a bland-looking Frenchman
after I’d pointed out to him that we were in the rather dingy
non-smoking section of La Sancerre, a modest little brasserie in
the Marais. Still, he put down his lighter and Marlboros. Since
I was a three-pack a day man until I went cold turkey on my fortieth
birthday I could feel his rage. An hour later I was in the Conciergerie
and transported back to the heyday of the Committee of Public Safety,
when the status of France, in the eyes of its enemies across the
Channel and the Rhine, made the land of Kim Jong Il look as tame
as the Democrats do in Congress in Year 7 of Bush time.
The
Conciergerie is at the west end of the Ile de la Cite, where the
cathedral of Notre Dame stands. Part of the Palais de Justice, it
was most famously where suspects were taken during the French Revolution.
In the early years following the fall of the Bastille in 1789, you
had a sporting chance of walking out of the Conciergerie with head
and shoulders still connected. A notice on the stone wall next to
a bust of Robespierre said that in the Revolution’s first
year only a third of the accused were found guilty. The pace really
picked up after the establishment in the spring of 1793 of the Revolutionary
Tribunal and the installation of public prosecutor Antoine Fouquier-Tinville
who bustled well over a thousand into eternal sleep (“Death
is nothing but eternal sleep” was posted in all cemetaries
in the revolutionary period), including Marie Antoinette, Danton,
Hebert and Robespierre before the blade fell on his own neck in
May 1795.
These
days the disneyfication of historical sites proceeds in lockstep
with the construction of those worldwide boondoggles par excellence,
“visitor centers” and “heritage” facilities.
Not so in the Conciergerie, a heavy place. You can imagine being
hauled in, dumped in a cell along with a passel of Viscomtes and
Ducs, given your minute in court and not long thereafter taken to
the door — there it was right in front of my nose —
behind which was a horse harnessed to the tumbril, with Madam Defarge
and her knitting crew waiting for you in the front row where the
guillotine stood in what is now the Place de la Concorde, near the
Crillon Bar.
It
was a cold day in Brumaire when I visited the Conciergerie and riding
on the Métro shortly thereafter the train went through a
station called Guy Môquet. At one end of the platform there
were vases of flowers forming a little shrine to young Môquet,
the seventeen-year member of a group of twenty-seven Communists
in the French resistance who were shot by the Nazis on October 22,
1941, as reprisal for the killing of a senior German officer. Before
he was shot Môquet wrote a famous letter to his parents and
brother, saying he was ready to die, having “done his best
to follow the way that you have laid out for me” (his father
was a Communist deputy) and concluding “[I] kiss you with
all this child’s heart of mine. Be brave!”
Since
his death Môquet has been prominent in the martyrology of
the Resistance. This October President Sarkozy said Guy’s
last letter should be read out in every school every October 22,
as a way of reminding youth of high ideals. Leftist teachers and
old Communists reacted harshly, saying Sarkozy was an opportunist
and a hypocrite and how did this fit with his schemes to curb immigration.
Sarkozy cancelled plans to read out Môquet’s letter
at a school. Who knows what his real motives were? He says he chokes
up every time he reads the letter and maybe he does. His wife was
about to leave him and maybe he was trying to change the subject
in advance.
Force
any young person listen to an uplifting letter once a year and you
reap negation. If Sarkozy had wanted to finish off the memory of
Môquet, this is the way to do it. If he’d signed a law
saying any minor caught mentioning Môquet’s name would
be shot, he’d have perpetuated young Guy’s glory for
decades to come.
Moral:
let people think for themselves. when Enlightened Public Opinion
required that Nobel Prize-winning geneticist James Watson’s
lecture at the Science Museum in London be cancelled, no one spoke
up on behalf of the prospective capacity audience to say their collective
intelligence was acute enough to withstand Watson’s views
on the different results obtained by Africans in IQ tests. No one
pointed out the obvious --it seems such to me -- which is that these
IQ tests are devised By white Protestants. The answer should be
to have Africans to devise tests based on their cultural assumptions.
It’s
easy enough to adopt a high moral tone about a 79-year-old espouser
of nutball eugenics, but another matter to take a whack at IQ tests,
which were devised by upper-class eugenics fanatics at the start
of the twentieth century. Le Monde ran a high-minded piece on “The
Temptation of Racism” by Stephane Foucart on October 30 claiming
that it was only with the advent of “science” that we
learned that “humanity is one big family”. Such nonsense.
It
was with the rise of “scientific method” that we got
the skull measurers and the IQ testers and the genetic mountebanks
telling us that various bits of humanity were genetic trash. Sarkozy
wants DNA tests at the border post.
A
few days after the Science Museum nixed Watson while insisting that
“the Science Museum does not shy away from debating controversial
topics” I stepped onto the Aerostar Train to London to speak
at the “Battle of Ideas” conference at the Royal College
of Art. I thought for a moment on the Aerostar that the old lady
in the next seat, looking a bit like Madame Defarge, was actually
Donald Rumsfeld in disguise, fleeing possible arrest and trial as
a war criminal. But it seems he fled across the Rhine.
In
London the organizers told me the Gore groupies had, without success,
tried to get the RCA to ban the Battlers. These days, North Korea
is everywhere.
Footnote:
the Paris item first ran in the print edition of The Nation.
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