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Tuesday, 21 November 2006 14:55 |
 | | Mark West | I can remember the puzzlement I felt when Ronald Reagan was inaugurated. He proclaimed, in stentorian tones, that America was awakening from its long national nightmare, that it was morning in America again.
I hadnët realized that we were in a long national nightmare. The Iranians had taken American captives, and since weëd been unable to free them, it was going to take some careful negotiating to get them free. The Middle East was a mess, but so long as we were desperate for oil and forced to deal gingerly with the religious fundamentalists in Saudi Arabia, it was likely to stay that way. And Jimmy Carter, whatever his faults, had realized the fundamental fact of the post-war era ÇƒÓ we were going to be a crippled giant, internationally, as long as we were beholden to Middle Eastern sheiks for oil.
Reagan,
though, was a piece of work. He, more than any other politician in
recent memory, preferred imagery to reality. He perfected the craft of
presenting his ideas in soaring images, while in reality doing little
to improve things in the real world.
Thereës a parallel between Reagan and George W. Bush. The difference is
that Reagan knew that fantasy was best kept in the world of the
imaginary.
Perhaps the most singular parallel between Reagan and our current
president is Reaganës handling of the bombing of a Marine compound on
Oct. 23, 1983. Two hundred forty three Marines were killed; later, a
second truck bombing killed 58 French soldiers.
The Reagan administration went on the offensive, declaring that the
attack on the Marine barracks could not have been foreseen. Marine
Corps commander Paul X. Kelley said he was ǃÚtotally satisfiedë with the
security in Beirut, arguing that there was no way the Marines could
have responded to the "new and unique terrorist threat" of car bombings
ÇƒÏ this despite the fact that car bombs were frequent in Beirut, and
that an attack on a barracks full of sleeping Marines would seem to be
an obvious tactic for an enemy combatant. The Pentagon commission
report, written under the direction of retired admiral Robert Long,
agreed that military commanders had not taken obvious measures to
protect the soldiers; the Reagan administrationës response was to delay
the release of the report as long as possible while forbidding a
Pentagon news conference concerning the report.
At the end of the day, the outcome was that Reagan withdrew U.S. forces
from Beirut. Later in 1984, during the election, the Reagan
administration attacked the patriotism of Walter Mondale, the
Democratic candidate, for suggesting that the deaths of the Marines
were pointless, accusing Mondale of running a "mean-spirited campaign."
And yet, somehow, Reagan is fondly remembered. Rush Limbaugh still
refers to him as "Ronaldus Maximus," and many still see him as the
architect of Americaës recovery from the Vietnam paralysis.
Sometimes,
though, paralysis is good. Paralysis is good if it prevents wars of
adventure, wars in which ideology triumphs over good sense and
planning. Paralysis is better than silliness, jingoism, and the deaths
of American soldiers, fighting valiantly for unattainable goals.
Paralysis is better than the seeming inability of the current
administration to distinguish between reality and fantasy. At least
Reagan knew the difference between movie-land and the real world.
Not George W. Bush. He not only spouted the idea that "freedom was on
the march," just because we wish it were so; but he tried to make it so
by force of arms. The result is a total collapse of U.S. prestige
worldwide, and an administration as thoroughly discredited in the
public eye as any since Nixonës.
Now, with the recent influx of ideas and personnel from his fatherës
administration into the Bush administration, our current president
seems poised to enact the same ëcut and runë strategy that Reagan
employed in Beirut. It is probably for the best, now that the war has
proved unwinnable on any terms that the American public would accept.
But we can expect that, as in the 1984 campaign, the very architects of
failure will blame the Democratic opposition, painting them as lacking
in patriotism and as ëmean-spirited.ë
And why not? It worked for Ronald the Great.
ï
Mark West is a professor of mass communications at UNC Asheville.
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