Hunting Presidents

 

Hunting Presidents

Peter Schultz

 

                  There is an interesting book entitled The Hunting of the President: The Ten-Year Campaign to Destroy Bill and Hillary Clinton, by Joe Conason and Gene Lyons. It’s a well-written and persuasive book, with one very large omission: It fails to recognize that hunting presidents – and other politicians, commentators, and pundits – is an American pastime, even to the point of being fatal at times.  

 

                  Hunting and being hunted are as common in American politics as are politicians. Richard Nixon hunted and was hunted for his entire career. LBJ hunted and was hunted his entire career, as did Ronald Reagan, Joe Biden, Donald Trump, Barack Obama, George Bush I and II, Dick Cheney, Lee Atwater, and so on and so forth. And then there are those who were fatally hunted: Huey Long, John F. Kennedy, Robert F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, Fred Hampton, Lee Harvey Oswald, and others who were severely injured like George Wallace.  So, there was nothing unique about the ten-year campaign to destroy the Clintons. It was just American politics as usual.

 

                  There is another interesting book entitled American Dreamer, which is a biography of Henry A. Wallace, FDR’s vice president for one term and cabinet member, along with being one of the nation’s and the world’s leading proponents of scientific agricultural.  Because of his views, primarily because he advocated ending the Cold War and working for peace after World War II by seeking accommodations with the Soviet Union, Wallace was attacked in ways that make the campaign against the Clintons look like child’s play. And even after Wallace left office and was no longer seeking any office, the attacks continued. They only ended with Wallace’s death. The self-righteousness of Wallace’s enemies was, to say the least, impressive.

 

                  And, of course, the hunting continues now, along with the self-righteousness of the hunters. Trump and his supporters are self-righteousness toward Harris and Democrats, while Harris and the Democrats are self-righteous toward Trump and his supporters, ala’ Hillary Clinton’s “deplorables.” The sense of righteousness among our politicians is odd in that it is difficult to think of them as anything other than abysmal failures. It is difficult to think of successful policies that emanated from either party over the past few decades. Moreover, their failures are rather glaring. The government failed to prevent not one but two attacks on the World Trade Center, failed to prevent an insurrection following the 2020 election, invaded Afghanistan and stayed, winless, for 20 some years, invaded Iraq looking for non-existent WMDs, while creating a fiasco that led to the growth and strengthening of Islamic terrorists, and undertook a war on terror that has fed the forces of terrorism. It seems rather ironic: in the face of abysmal failures, self-righteousness flourishes. But then the political arena is an arena where irony abounds.

 

Nixon's Demise as a Right-Wing Coup

 

Nixon’s Demise as a Right-Wing Coup

Peter Schultz

 

            Since Ronald Reagan’s election in 1980 and re-election in 1984, it’s obvious that American politics has had a decidedly right-wing tone and substance. But what if it hasn’t been recognized the degree to which the rise of right-wing politics in the US was facilitated by left-wing politicians and players participating in the overthrow of Richard Nixon? That is, what if Nixon’s overthrow was engineered by conservatives who hated both his domestic and his foreign policies and that they were successful because they had left-wing allies who, for various reasons, also hated Nixon? And what if these left-wingers didn’t understand that they were actually undermining the possibility of a left-wing politics arising in the United States, a possibility that seems until this day impossible? 

 

            To understand this, it is necessary to also understand that the conventional narrative regarding the Watergate scandal and Nixon’s demise is more or less a fairy tale. While Nixon was guilty of obstructing justice in trying to cover up the burglary at the Watergate, the motivations that led to those burglaries were nothing like those attributed to the Nixon administration. Moreover, what Nixon and his supporters did regarding the 1972 presidential election had been done quite often and was anything but unique. The motivations of Nixon’s enemies, his right-wing enemies, were political while they knew or didn’t care that the burglary itself was not political. These right-wingers were out to get Nixon because he was willing to betray South Vietnam by seeking “peace with honor” [but not with victory], because he went to mainland China wanting to make China a legitimate member of the international community, and because he sought détente with the Soviet Union. He was willing, therefore, to bargain with “evil Communist empires.” From the outset of his administration, the Joint Chiefs of Staff had been spying on Nixon and Kissinger, which led to the creation of “the Plumbers,” Nixon’s way of trying to keep control of his agenda. When Nixon learned of this spying, he refused to hold those responsible accountable, in large part because he feared how the military would respond were he to do so. And even to the end of his administration, Nixon seemed unaware of just who his enemies were, e.g., Alexander Hair, Howard Hunt, and James McCord. 

 

            As the right-wing opposition to Nixon grew and gained strength, they managed to ally themselves with left-wingers who hated Nixon for his past sins, his earlier anti-Communism, his take down of Alger Hiss, his “dog whistle” politics, and his rejection of their bona fides as proper elites. The Watergate burglary was like a gift to right-wingers because they could use it to draw left-wingers into their opposition to Nixon and to use them to ensure his demise, even his removal from the presidency. Thus, although the Watergate burglary had very little to do with electoral politics, it could be used as the centerpiece of what was said to be Nixon’s attack on American democracy. In fact, Nixon and his minions did very little that was unusual with regard to “dirty tricks.” Nonetheless, the left-wingers were only too happy to go after “Tricky Dick,” even to the point of not considering what the broader political implications would be of his demise. They didn’t seem to realize what was actually going on, that by undoing Nixon, who was not a right-wing Republican, they would be contributing to a right-wing coup so that anyone following Nixon in the presidency would have to embrace right-wing causes, like ending détente with the Soviet Union or rejecting a broader rapprochement with mainland China. Not surprisingly, when Ford and Carter tried to continue some of Nixon’s policies, both failed because of right-wing resistance, as was to be expected. 

 

            By successfully removing Nixon from the presidency, the right-wingers then took center-stage, so to speak, in the drama of American politics. And along with Nixon’s landslide victory in 1972, which destroyed the legitimacy of the McGovern alternative in the Democratic Party, once Nixon was gone, driven from office by both right-wingers and left-wingers, the strongest forces in American politics were right-wing forces. So, by allowing themselves to be blinded by their hatred of Richard Nixon, the left-wingers undermined themselves and the possibility of a left-wing politics in the United States. The best they could do was to rally around “New Democrats,” like Bill Clinton; that is, around Democrats who seemed like “right-wingers lite.” And, of course, Clinton did little more than continue what was called “the Reagan Revolution,” while trying to disguise this fact with such meaningless programs as “Reinventing Government.”

 

            So, it would seem that the left-wingers did not recognize the political implications of Nixon’s demise; that is, the implications for the character of American politics broadly understood. And whatever the cause of this phenomenon, by participating in the overthrow of Nixon, the left-wingers had sealed their own fate. Henceforth, they would not, could not be a powerful political force or play a central role in the American political drama.

 

Pragmatic Illusions: JFK's Politics

 

Pragmatic Illusions: JFK’s Politics

Peter Schultz

 

                  Bruce Miroff, in his book Pragmatic Illusions, on the “Presidential Politics of John F. Kennedy” attributes to Kennedy a rather strange hybrid kind of politics.

 

                  On one hand, JFK treated foreign affairs as a realm of the apocalyptic, where communism and the Cold War represented an existential and moral threat to civilization itself. On the other hand, Kennedy did not or refused to deal with the domestic scene in apocalyptic terms. And this, Miroff argues, despite the fact that the civil rights movement was “a moral crisis that transcended the ordinary boundaries of American politics” and called out for JFK “to bear witness to its fundamental righteousness.” So, on the one hand, JFK was willing to act aggressively to preserve civilization and its moral principles when it came to the communist threat, but on the other hand, he willing to accommodate those opposed to civil rights in order to preserve domestic tranquility and protect his political prospects.

 

                  A suggestion: JFK’s politics were accommodationist rather than principled. And they were accommodationist not because that served his immediate political needs, e.g., getting elected and reelected. They were because JFK appreciated at some level of consciousness the dangers of principled politics, of a kind of politics that dramatizes political life as characterized by moral conflicts; in fact, as characterized by apocalyptic moral conflicts.

 

                  JFK’s politics were different than, say, Martin Luther King’s politics of non-violence. King argued that the purpose of “non-violent direct action” was “to dramatize [issues] so [they] can no longer be ignored.” Non-violent direct action seeks to create crises, which crises must then be dealt with, which cannot be ignored. So, non-violent direct action seeks to create conflict – King called it “creative tension” – even though those conflicts could and often would lead to violence. Dramatic, crisis-oriented non-violence is not always or innately non-violent.

 

                  Despite his rhetoric at times, JFK’s politics were accommodationist, seeking to avoid or moderate conflicts and crises. For example, JFK refused to use the US military during the Bay of Pigs invasion, leading to its failure. Surely, Kennedy had to suspect that that invasion was seen as a prelude to a US invasion of Cuba to overthrow Castro once it became obvious there would be no Cuban uprising against Castro. JFK also resisted sending US troops to fight in Vietnam, despite repeated attempts by his advisers to do so. Advisers yes, US troops fighting in Nam, no. He also rejected Eisenhower’s advice to use the US military in Laos. And, of course, he successfully did all he could to prevent an attack and/or an invasion of Cuba during the missile crisis.

 

                  So, JFK’s foreign policies and actions smacked of accommodation more than principle, as did his domestic policies and actions, especially regarding civil rights. As a result, he drew the ire, intense to say the least, of more principled politicos, both those on “the right” and those on “the left.” It may be said that JFK saw through the different principled elites vying for control of American politics. He saw through the militarism of the fervently anti-communists. He saw through the greed of the fervently capitalists. And he saw through the self-righteousness of those fervently seeking justice, racial and otherwise. Generally, it may be said that JFK saw through the appeal of principled politics, which is great indeed. The strength of that appeal might well be measured by JFK’S fate.

The Phoenix Program: Affirming the Political

 

The Phoenix Program: Affirming the Political

Peter Schultz

 

                  Finishing Douglas Valentine’s book, The Phoenix Program, which is about the Phoenix program that was created in Vietnam, a program that was charged with being an assassination program that engaged in terrorism by identifying, capturing, imprisoning, torturing, or killing large numbers of Vietnamese who were deemed to be the enemies of the state, the Government of Vietnam (GVN). After Vietnam, the program was used in El Salvador and Nicaragua and was at the heart of a Special Forces manual entitled, Tayacan: Psychological Operations in Guerilla Warfare.

 

                  As Valentine observes: “The goal was to organize the contras into armed propaganda teams that would persuade the people to stage a general uprising…. This was to be done through psychological operations, by reaching beyond the ‘territorial limits of conventional warfare, to penetrate the political entity itself: the ‘political animal’ that Aristotle defined.’ For once his mind has been reached, the ‘political animal has been defeated, without necessarily receiving bullets.’” [426] Central to this project of psychological operations is “the notion of ‘implicit terror,” as well as, periodically, “explicit terror” in order to compel people to embrace certain political beliefs and policies.

 

                  Implicitly then, according to the Tayacan, affirming the political means “penetrating the political entity itself” in order to defeat it. So, by this view, the goal of affirming the political is subjection for the sake of protecting the people in the name of democracy. And, necessarily, affirming the political involves both implicit and explicit “terror.”

 

                  If you think this sounds just crazy, off the wall crazy, just conjure up the fears governments use in order to make people compliant, fears of possible terrorist attacks or of viruses and pandemics. Moreover, conjure up capital punishment, especially when carried out in ways that are anything but humane, that are cruel but not unusual. I would argue that implicit and explicit terror are both common variables in political orders, all political orders. And the reference to Aristotle and his claim that humans are political animals, encourages us to wonder whether the old Greek wasn’t on to implications of that claim that are anything but benign. Viewing humans as political animals is a way of affirming the political, which, if the Tayacan is correct, has implications for the political arena that are, well, quite exceptional, where “neutralization” of political opponents would comprehend and even justify their “elimination with extreme prejudice.” Such thoughts might lead a person to wonder about the political and about those who thrive in that arena.

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.