Limits or Emptiness? Accommodation or Principles?

 

Limits or Emptiness? Accommodation or Principles?

Peter Schultz

 

                  In my previous entry I wrote about the emptiness of politics. That seemed and seems rather radical so perhaps it is better to refer to “the limits” of politics rather than the emptiness of politics. What follows here are some meanderings on this theme.

 

                  While the emptiness of politics seems too radical, is it? Isn’t limits a “nice” way of saying empty because, ultimately, the limits point toward political failure, at least eventually? Political successes are ephemeral; so, while political successes might feel like flying, we are actually falling.

 

                  Quinn, writing about civilization, suggested there are “laws” which if followed would ensure success. But are there such “laws?” Isn’t the necessity of acceding to existing forces – which engineers know is indispensable – evidence that such “laws” are non-existent? Acceding is required because the existing forces are, in fact, “lawless.” The “law of gravity” is a metaphor that implies that gravity can be controlled, rationalized. It cannot. It must be acceded to.  

 

                  As a result of such speculations, accommodation becomes a – or even the – cardinal virtue. That is, accommodating behavior is superior to principled behavior, contrary to the prevailing conventional wisdom. The basic conflict is: accommodation v. principles. A politics of accommodation or a politics of principle. We get to choose. But, of course, we have lost sight of this basic conflict because it is now taken for granted by almost everyone that principled politics is the only appropriate kind of politics. Principled politics seems elevating, transformative even. Principled politics make us feel like we are flying. But, given the emptiness – or limits – of politics, we are actually falling.  

The Emptiness of Politics

 

The Emptiness of Politics

Peter Schultz

 

                  Here are some passages from Bruce Miroff’s Pragmatic Illusions, about the presidency of John F. Kennedy. “The history of the Alliance for Progress can be traced relatively quickly…. What requires fuller consideration is the story of what didn’t happen – the Alliance’s glaring failure….” [112]

 

                  Here’s a question: Is Miroff describing the failure of the Alliance for Progress or the failure of the political generally? Given that Miroff later describes the failure of the strategic hamlets in Vietnam, as well as the failure of that war generally, isn’t it fair to ask: Is the political arena essentially empty? That is, it isn’t only that Kennedy’s “pragmatic politics” dealt in illusions; it is rather that politics in general deals in illusions. In other words, the political arena is essentially empty. Or as one book has it, dealing with Nixon’s and Reagan’s war on drugs, it’s all “smoke and mirrors,” leading to the politics of failure.

Supreme Political Achievements

 

Supreme Political Achievements

Peter Schultz

 

                  Bruce Miroff, in his book Pragmatic Illusions, about John F. Kennedy’s politics, reports and takes issue with the argument that Kennedy’s handling of the Cuban missile crisis was “a supreme political achievement.” For Miroff, Kennedy’s handling of the crisis was too militaristic, foregoing diplomacy for some kind of military action that brought the world to the brink of nuclear war at least a couple of times. Kennedy, Miroff argues, ‘had brought the world to the brink of nuclear war for the sake of American prestige and influence [which] was hardly the stuff of political greatness.” [99]

 

                  Now, that’s a sensible argument but, as a thought experiment, entertain the idea that in fact Kennedy’s actions in the Cuban missile crisis did constitute “a supreme political triumph.” [99] What then does this tell us about “supreme political achievements” or “supreme political triumphs?” Do such achievements, such triumphs require a “crisis mentality,” which Miroff attributes quite persuasively to Kennedy? Are such achievements and triumphs dependent of an apocalyptic view of the human condition? And, finally, are such achievements and triumphs actually worth the dangers involved in them? After all, Kennedy brought on the brink of nuclear war over a relatively few Soviet missiles in Cuba, missiles that Secretary of Defense McNamara dismissed as inconsequential in terms of the nuclear balance of power in the world. Would nuclear war, which Kennedy did accept as a possibility as a result of his actions, have been worth it? Are supreme political triumphs worth their costs?

 

                  Or to consider another example: Abraham Lincoln and the Civil War is usually seen as a great political achievement, if not the greatest in US history. But what did this achievement involve? A horrendously bloody and terroristic war which, while leading to the formal abolition of slavery in the US, was then followed by the reinstitution of slavery in the South by another name and by an apartheid system called “segregation” in the North which lasted for about 100 years and led to degradation of the African Americans generally.

 

                  So, what should be made of “supreme political achievements?” Other examples that could be considered would be the Roman empire and the British empire, both of which are treated as supreme political achievements. Looked at candidly, unconventionally, what do these achievements tell us about the political? What do they tell us about political greatness? At the very least, these achievements should encourage contemplation of the political and of those, who in the name of greatness, affirm the political.

Political Illusions

 

Political Illusions

Peter Schultz

 

                  An interesting book by Bruce Miroff, is his Pragmatic Illusions: The Presidential Politics of John F. Kennedy. Miroff writes of Kennedy’s apocalyptic rhetoric and its meaning as follows:

 

                  “… Kennedy’s orientation toward crises – amounting to almost a sub rosa yearning for them – reflected the poverty of his pragmatic liberalism. Kennedy clearly wanted greatness, wanted the accolades of both the present and the future.” [66-67]

 

                  Now, substitute for the phrase “pragmatic liberalism,” “politics” or “the political” and note what emerges: It is not only “pragmatic liberalism” that is characterized by poverty but, more generally, it is politics itself. Political life is poor, offering little to human beings.

 

                  Hence, “the desire for greatness.” “Heroic action in moments of crises” is all or the most that the political can offer. Otherwise, the political offers human beings very little of value; it is poor because greatness was not to be acquired “in the task of changing society,” that is, in the ordinary course of political events. Greatness was to be harvested only by way of “apocalyptic” moments or events, e.g., a great civil war or a worldwide war on terror and evil.

 

                  Ironically, the desire for political greatness, for fame, for a kind of immortality reflects the emptiness, the poverty of political life generally speaking. As Lincoln indicated in his oration on “The Perpetuation of Our Political Institutions,” a seat in the Congress or even the presidency itself would prove to be unsatisfying, generally speaking. Ordinary political life, that is, doesn’t offer human beings much of value. Political life is, in that regard, valueless. Which is probably why it is touted as much as it is as a pinnacle of success and accomplishment.

The Politics of Duplicity

 

The Politics of Duplicity

Peter Schultz

 

                  The political realm is not a realm governed often by intelligence. I used to ask students to use one word that would describe what quality presidents should have. Universally, their response was “strong.” To which I responded: “Why not smart? Or compassionate? Or just?” Their response: “Oh, I meant smart too.” “Ah,” I would say. “But you didn’t say ‘smart.’ You said ‘strong.’  And you meant it.”

 

                  So, what governs behavior in the political realm? Is it strength? And, if it is strength, is strength sufficient? Or does strength have to be supplemented? At least rhetorically, supplements seem necessary, which points to the duplicitous character of political behavior. Because being strong is insufficient, politicians need to make themselves appear to be intelligent, just, and compassionate. Hence, their duplicity because, like my students, they too privilege strength as most important.  

 

                  But, in fact, strength or power are insufficient in that they almost always come up short. Or, put differently, strength or power works but only for a limited time, leading to the need for supplements or the appearance of supplements. The powerful cannot successfully govern simply by way of their power. Which is another reason duplicity is so characteristically political. The powerful, to preserve their legitimacy, are forced to hide or disguise the limits of their power. Hence, the cover-ups that pervade the political realm as politicians seek to hide the limited usefulness of power as revealed by their compromises and failures.

 

                  A danger arises, however, when duplicity is mistaken for power, rather than a being understood as a cover for relative powerlessness. It is because duplicity reflects and covers the limits of power, that it will, invariably, fail. A politics of duplicity is, essentially, a politics of failure. Just ask Richard Nixon. Or, for that matter, ask LBJ, Reagan, GHW Bush, Bill Clinton, G. Bush, Obama, Trump, and Joe Biden. All failed to one degree or another.

 

                  Impressively, Ben Franklin, at the constitutional convention in 1787, predicted – in his own way – that presidents were very likely to fail given the character of the presidency and the men it would attract. But then Franklin did not share Alexander Hamilton’s embrace of “the love of fame” as “the ruling passion of the noblest minds.” Franklin’s preferred presidents would be pedestrian, peaceful, definitely less “noble” than Hamilton’s lovers of fame, those who these days duplicitously deem themselves “visionaries.” So, perhaps Franklin had a point as Hamilton’s “nobility” has proved to be a disguise for what is just another group of “stentorian baboons.”

Politics: Flying as Falling

 

Politics: Flying as Falling

Peter Schultz

 

                  There is an interesting passage in Ray Locker’s book, Haig’s Coup which draws on Richard Nixon’s memoirs regarding Watergate and John Dean:

 

                  “But, as Nixon soon realized, the facts did not matter. ‘I was worried about the wrong problem … I went off on a tangent, concentrating … on trying to refute Dean by pointing out his exaggerations, distortions, and discrepancies. But even as we geared up to do this, the real issue had changed. It no longer made any difference that not all of Dean’s testimony was accurate. It only mattered if any of his testimony was accurate.’” [109]

 

                  If “facts” didn’t matter, what did? If Dean’s misleading testimony didn’t matter, why not? What was “the real issue?”

 

                  The real issue had become Richard Nixon, not Dean. The real issue was not what had Nixon actually done regarding Watergate, but what he had done politically. The real issue had become Nixon’s politics, just as when Nixon had successfully taken on Alger Hiss, the issue had become Hiss’s politics, his alleged communism, and not what he had actually done.

 

                  So, because Nixon was to be judged politically, Dean’s testimony did not have to be completely accurate. It only had to be “more accurate than [Nixon’s] had to be,” and refuting Dean point by point would not help or save Nixon, as Nixon eventually realized.

 

                  But Nixon could not adequately defend himself politically because he had acted duplicitously. He had secretly bombed Laos and Cambodia, and he had told the Chinese and the Soviets that he would not, after “a decent interval” had passed, defend South Vietnam to prevent it becoming communist. Were he to reveal his duplicity it would only confirm his untrustworthiness and, more importantly, it would subvert the legitimacy of the American political order by exposing its duplicitous character. Nixon could not adequately defend himself for the same reason he did not expose the Joint Chiefs of Staff spying on his administration. To have done so would have undermined the legitimacy of the Joint Chiefs and of the political system more generally. Nixon’s only option was to try to cover up the Watergate burglary and other actions of his administration such as the Huston Plan, the bugging by the FBI of NSC staff members and journalists, and the burglary of Daniel Ellsberg’s psychiatrist’s office., as well as questionable campaign financing decisions and actions.  

 

                  “Funny how falling feels like flying…...for a little while.” Duplicity facilitated Nixon’s successes but also led to his downfall. More generally, it might be said that political life is characterized by the same scenario, a vicious circle of duplicitous behavior that only works for “a little while.” Ala’ the Declaration of Independence: Oppression leads to revolution, revolution leads to government, government eventually becomes oppressive, leading to another revolution, and on and on it goes. The arc of history does not bend toward justice, except of course for “a little while.”

White House Call Girl

 

White House Call Girl

Peter Schultz

 

                  There is a fundamental misconception about the role corruption plays in the American political order. Conventionally understood, the American political order is seen as fighting corrupt phenomena like prostitution, with the police and the courts and other lawful authorities taking the lead. However, a different picture emerges from Phil Stanford’s book, White House Call Girl, about the role prostitution played in Watergate:

 

                  “At the city level, there’s usually an understanding between the police intelligence squad and one or more local call girl rings. In exchange for protection from the vice squad, they’re expected to provide information to the cops. The same pattern holds in Washington, except that there are so many more intelligence agencies working behind the scenes and the stakes are so much higher. The FBI’s avid interest, especially under J. Edgar Hoover, in the sexual habits of American politicians is only the best-known example.” [p. 57]

 

                  So, in fact, the establishment, that is, legitimate agencies like the police, the courts, and other agencies are not fighting prostitution but using it in order to control the political system. Prostitution and other forms of sexual behavior are part and parcel of the political system as much as, say, the FBI, the CIA, and even the White House. Prostitution explains how the system works, by, among other things, feeding intelligence to the lawful authorities.

 

                  This is why one Phillip Bailley, a small-time pimp in D.C., was sent to St. Elizabeth’s hospital for the criminally insane when his case involving his violations of the Mann Act threatened to reveal the prevalence of prostitution in the nation’s capital. As a result, Bailley’s evidence never became public and, thereby, the corruption that underlay political life in the nation’s capital remained hidden. Take note: The authorities, meaning the police and the courts, were not interested in using Bailley’s evidence to attack and undermine prostitution. Rather, they were very much interested in making it disappear – which they successfully did.

 

                  The significance of this needs to be underlined: Corruption lies at the heart of the American political order – and perhaps at the heart of all political orders. Corruption is a political fact of life, an irremediable political fact of life. It is, perhaps, even more fundamental than justice as a central feature of political life, a fact that even “the realists” don’t quite come to grips with.

 

                  But, of course, given that humans always need to think of themselves as just, this fact must be hidden, which accounts for the duplicity that is “the coin of the political realm.” Duplicity and cover-ups are essential to political life, as the multiple Watergate cover-ups illustrated. Nixon covered up, the CIA covered up, the FBI covered up, John Dean and Alexander Haig covered up, Woodward, Bernstein, and Deep Throat covered up, the Washington Post covered up, the Joint Chiefs of Staff covered up, and even the Watergate investigative committee covered up. It’s just the nature of political life. Or, more succinctly: So it goes.

Corruption and Politics

 

Corruption and Politics

Peter Schultz

 

                  There is a misconception about what many call “corruption,” i.e., the very common phenomenon where politicians and officials appoint their family and friends to government posts despite the fact that the appointees are not qualified for the posts. The misconception is that this kind of duplicity is not a political act. These appointments are seen as self-serving rather than as actions with and undertaken for political reasons.

 

                  However, like other forms of duplicity, such appointments are political in that they serve to maintain and fortify the status quo. As a result, even though exposed such appointments continue. The political benefits ensure that. This duplicity, like other forms of duplicity, plays an essential role in maintaining the fortifying the established order.

 

                  Think of it in light of the question, why do businesses so often hire those they know as family and friends even though the hires lack the qualifications to do the job. Obviously, it is thought that such hires do more to fortify the business than undermine it, regardless of the hire’s competence or lack of competence. The variable that is often overlooked in assessing such behavior is loyalty. Loyalty very often trumps competence in preserving and fortifying organizations. And duplicitous hires are in the service of loyalty., which is a “two-way street.”

 

                  In the political arena, loyalty is even more fundamental that it is in the “private” sector. Incompetence – think here of the response to the events of 9/11 – rarely undermines politicians, whereas disloyalty very often does. What brought Richard Nixon down if not disloyalty? And whatever incompetence Nixon displayed would not have brought him down had he not been betrayed by colleagues like John Dean, Alexander Haig, James McCord, or “Deep Throat.”

 

                  So, the “corruption” of allegedly self-serving, nepotistic behavior is not corruption at all in the sense of behavior that undermines the existing or established political arrangements. Ironically, such “corruption,” even when exposed, continues to serve the status quo and the careers of those politicians and others overseeing the status quo. Such “corruption” is, in fact, essential to any existing or established political order and, so, will be practiced faithfully despite threat of exposure. The political arena, it seems, is ineradicably corrupt. And, as a result, “public service,” so highly touted by many, is corrupting. So it goes.