Showing posts with label Obama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Obama. Show all posts

Monday, July 14, 2014

Attempting to Address a 'Crisis of Confidence'



"I want to talk to you right now about a fundamental threat to American democracy. I do not mean our political and civil liberties. They will endure. And I do not refer to the outward strength of America, a nation that is at peace tonight everywhere in the world, with unmatched economic power and military might.

"The threat is nearly invisible in ordinary ways. It is a crisis of confidence."


Jimmy Carter
July 15, 1979

Sometimes it is difficult to ignore Mark Twain's still–relevant observation that history doesn't repeat itself — but it does rhyme.

Recently, Josh Lederman of the Associated Press compared Barack Obama's presidency to Jimmy Carter's when he delivered his famous "malaise" speech 35 years ago tomorrow.

As I observed five years ago, Carter never used the word malaise when he addressed the nation from the Oval Office. He spoke of a "crisis of confidence."

The Republicans used the word malaise, and it stuck. When I heard people speak of malaise, it sounded like they were describing the Carter administration, not the American people. That was an interesting spin, given that many people complained that Carter was blaming them for what was wrong.

People sneered at Carter as if he were spinning his wheels in a muddy ditch. I really got the impression that summer that the voters were concluding that they had to make a change in the White House in 1980. The guy who was in there didn't seem to get it.

And, with Obama, it is hard not to see parallels when, as Lederman writes, "both parties have essentially written off prospects for any major legislation for the remainder of Obama's presidency. Obama's attempts to circumvent Congress to get things done have drawn rebukes from the Supreme Court and a threatened lawsuit from the House, casting a bright light on the state of Washington dysfunction."

As Yogi Berra said, "It's like deja vu all over again."

This is what I think happened in 1979: Democrats couldn't believe the country would turn things over to the Republicans in the next election — less than six years after Nixon's resignation. Besides, the Republican front–runner, Ronald Reagan, would be nearly 70 by the time of the next election. Democrats either assumed — or persuaded themselves — that they would survive the 1980 elections. Many, including Carter, did not.

I've been observing American politics most of my life, and I don't fully understand the ebbs and flows of presidential popularity. It is truly a bewildering (yet fascinating) dynamic, this relationship the American people have with their presidents.

Initially, Carter's speech was a hit with the public. His message of austerity in energy consumption appeared to resonate at first, but public approval came crashing down within a few days after pundits sliced and diced it. Clearly, there was a backlash — but was it genuine or had it been manufactured?

Carter's speech, of course, was given long before the internet, even before cable was present in most American homes. There were no all–news networks and relatively few radio stations that carried straight news, let alone programs hosted by left– or right–wing ideologues. Many of the things that shape and direct the course of public opinion today did not exist in 1979.

I didn't pick up on it at the time, but many people who watched the speech seemed to feel Carter was blaming them for the energy crisis instead of trying to resolve the problem. I guess it didn't help when Carter said things like "In a nation that was proud of hard work, strong families, close–knit communities and our faith in God, too many of us now tend to worship self–indulgence and consumption."

That does seem a bit preachy, huh? I mean, he might as well have said, "You're greedy and self–centered." In many ways, I guess that was true, in some ways I guess it still is, but it's a truth that requires delicacy in the telling.

When I was growing up, I heard people who were there tell of the spirit of generosity and sacrifice that permeated Americans in the 1930s and 1940s. Maybe that's true, or maybe it was a case of folks remembering things the way they wanted to remember them and not the way they were; but if even a fraction of it was true, the Americans of that time were more generous than the Americans of the '70s and '80s — or, for that matter, the Americans of the 21st century.

Carter told people a harsh truth that many probably did not want to hear — that a way of life was at the heart of the problem — and Carter wasn't as diplomatic as he fancied himself to be. "We've learned that piling up material goods cannot fill the emptiness of lives which have no confidence or purpose," Carter said.

It wasn't really surprising that, when Carter wrote his presidential memoirs a few years later, he focused most of his attention on his foreign policy record in office. Other than the 14 months–plus that he spent trying to get the hostages back from Iran, his foreign policy performance included triumphs like the Camp David Accords whereas his domestic influence was summed up in the public mind by the "malaise speech."

In the long run, it might not have been any better if people had remembered it as the "crisis of confidence." Neither that nor "malaise" is a rousing endorsement of a president's stewardship.

Monday, June 9, 2014

Dangerous Precedents



Barack Obama's Taliban‐for–Bergdahl deal set some dangerous precedents — for the presidency, for the nation and for its people.

For as long as I can remember, the stated policy of the United States has been not to negotiate with terrorists — not for anyone under any circumstances. I always thought the reasons for that were obvious.

If, for example, you are a parent, there are certain behaviors you want to encourage in your children and certain behaviors you want to discourage. Right? If your child is doing something you want to discourage, is it better to punish him when he does it or to offer him something he wants in exchange for not doing it?

Logic tells me that it is better to punish bad behavior than to reward someone for not engaging in that behavior. The latter will only encourage worse behavior (requiring more and more generous rewards for stopping it). Children can be devious, more devious than some adults think, and, when they spot a weakness, they will seldom hesitate to exploit it.

Same thing applies to superpowers and their relationships with lesser powers since smaller powers do sometimes resemble petulant children throwing temper tantrums. I understand that Barack Obama is sensitive to the plight of third–world countries, but, as I presume most parents at least try to teach their children, there is a right way to do something and a wrong way to do something.

Parents learn not to respond to childish tactics like tantrums, crying, holding your breath and the like — and those are tame compared to the tactics that terrorists use.

There are lots of countries that engage in violent acts to get the attention of larger and stronger nations and, hopefully, gain some kind of advantage. American policy, up to this point, has emphasized that is the wrong way to do it. Fortunately, the policy against negotiating with terrorists is perceived as a policy of strength; while someone does see fit to test its resolve now and then, that hasn't been a frequent occurrence in the past.

Now that Obama has traded several high–profile Taliban leaders for one American prisoner whose loyalty is questionable, I'm afraid we may see more and more acts against Americans. Some may be civilians traveling abroad. Given the nature of the Taliban and the leaders we returned to it, I fear we will see Americans being killed at an alarming rate, possibly on American soil.

Given the openness of America's borders, what is to stop them from bringing the fight here? If we fence off our southern border, what is to prevent terrorists from entering the country somewhere along our coasts — or perhaps our northern border?

There are groups in the world — the Taliban among them — that are intent on causing damage and pain to the United States. I have no doubt that the five men who were released in exchange for Bowe Bergdahl will try, at some point, to kill Americans. How and where they will do so is, at this point, anyone's guess, but their histories suggest no other possibility to me.

The president's arbitrary deal has put hundreds of millions of Americans at risk, and I am absolutely convinced that some will die as a result. How many? It could be one big event, like Sept. 11, or it could be a series of smaller events that may seem unconnected at first.

Whatever it is, it might be preceded by a series of abductions that are intended to exploit this new American policy and lead to deals for imprisoned terrorist leaders.

That is the most deadly precedent in this deal, but there are other precedents that I think are almost as dangerous over the long haul.

In this country, we have many elected officials, all of whom are supposed to represent the people. Some are local. Some are state. Some are federal. All are elected to do the people's will.

When the president takes it upon himself to make a deal and doesn't even consult the leaders in Congress, presumably because the majority in one of the legislative bodies is not from his political party, that defeats the purpose of democracy.

Some may say, "Well, the president is chosen by all the people." Such logic suggests that the president will represent all Americans in every decision he makes.

What about the concerns of the people who did not vote for the president? Nearly 61 million Americans voted for Obama's Republican opponent in 2012. No other losing presidential candidate has ever received the support of so many ballots.

Obama is openly disdainful of those Americans and encourages his supporters to dismiss the concerns of their countrymen.

So, rather than consult with congressional leaders, Obama chose to act on his own.

That is a dangerous precedent for the American system of government. From the start, members of Congress were intended to play a big part in national policy decisions. A president who acts on his own like this — routinely — is acting like a monarch, which was the very thing the Founding Fathers wanted to avoid.

It can be a messy business, having to work out compromises, but the presidents who are successful at it have the longest–lasting positive influence on their country.

Obama's actions are setting dangerous precedents.

Thursday, May 22, 2014

Terrible With Raisins In It


"This wasn't just plain terrible. This was fancy terrible. This was terrible with raisins in it."

Dorothy Parker (1893–1967)

I was a child during the Vietnam War, and I remember being confused by the disgraceful way many Americans greeted their returning veterans.

I knew the war had not been popular. That was the reason why one president chose not to seek another term and his successor made so many poor choices to avoid his predecessor's fate that it cost him the job, anyway. They were the policymakers. Their policies failed, and they were held accountable.

But, even as a boy, I knew it wasn't fair to blame the soldiers for the war. They weren't responsible for the policy, only for carrying it out.

Nevertheless, they were treated shoddily when they came home. It was an embarrassing sight to witness on TV, the kind of thing that made one hang one's head in shame. I cannot imagine what it must have been like to be there.

It was more gratifying to see the way America's veterans were greeted after the Gulf War. It is how the veterans should have been treated after Vietnam. It is how they always should be treated because they risked everything to preserve this country. Some came back broken. Some did not come back at all.

Whether they came back broken in places you can see or places you can't see, they deserve the best we can give them, not the worst — which is what they have been getting in terms of their health care.

It is ironic, really, that an administration that has made health care its signature cause should be faced with the emerging scandal concerning the treatment — or, should I say, the lack thereof? — of veterans at V.A. hospitals, particularly the one in Phoenix although the problem appears to be systemic.

I don't know all the details. I want to know them, even if they make me want to hang my head in shame because this really does touch everyone somehow. We all know people who have served this country. Some of us are related to veterans. Some of us are veterans.

One of the most inspiring moments I've seen in a movie was when Spencer Tracy, as one of the three judges in "Judgment at Nuremberg," spoke about survival.

"A decision must be made in the life of every nation at the very moment when the grasp of the enemy is at its throat," Tracy said. "Then, it seems that the only way to survive is to use the means of the enemy, to rest survival upon what is expedient, to look the other way. Well, the answer to that is 'survival as what'? A country isn't a rock. It's not an extension of one's self. It's what it stands for. It's what it stands for when standing for something is the most difficult. Before the people of the world, let it now be noted that here, in our decision, this is what we stand for: Justice, truth and the value of a single human being."

That takes my breath away every time I see it, and I have been thinking about it a lot lately because it sums up — for me, anyway — what our veterans fought for and sacrificed for. They stood for us. This is what we must stand for: Justice, truth and the value of a single human being.

Without truth, there can be no justice, and those human beings have been devalued by a cold, unfeeling and ungrateful system. It has nothing to do with political ideology. The abuses have occurred under presidents from both parties.

With this administration, the incessant drip–drip–drip of scandal is exhausting. Some of it has merit, some does not, but the V.A. scandal is nonpartisan.

I admire what Brent Budowsky has written for TheHill.com.

"[T]he president owes veterans more than another White House staff, spin and stall operation, which he offered on Wednesday with the same cast of characters waiting for yet another report," Budowsky wrote. "Congressional Republicans, who share responsibility for the VA scandal, owe vets more than another attack, deride and exploit operation that plays politics with the health of those who serve."

Barack Obama knew about the abuses when he ran for president the first time and promised to do something about them. In 2007, he spoke — almost a year to the day before he accepted his party's nomination — at the National Convention of the Veterans of Foreign Wars in Kansas City and pledged, "We enter into a sacred trust with our veterans from the moment they put on that uniform. That trust is simple — America will be there for them just as they have been there for America."

We must confront this problem. We must be faithful to our promise. We cannot ignore it.

I fear, though, that is what will happen. Obama will speak the words people want to hear on Memorial Day, and they will feel better. He will say he is on top of the job — and, to use an expression of which he has been fond, he will kick the can farther down the road. Then, whenever he is asked about the matter, he will say the review is proceeding — and the issue will be squelched until after the election.

And nothing will be done.

I don't like to put things in political contexts, but the sad truth is that everything is viewed in a political context these days — by both the right and the left.

That, as Dorothy Parker might say, isn't merely terrible, it is fancy terrible, terrible with raisins in it — and maybe a dollop of whipped cream.

Monday, May 5, 2014

Through the Looking Glass ... Again



"History doesn't repeat itself, but it does rhyme."

Mark Twain

Forty years ago this summer, the Watergate scandal swallowed the presidency of Richard Nixon.

I was a boy when that happened, and I'll admit that I didn't understand all the issues involved, but there was one very simple fact that seemed obvious to me.

When Alexander Butterfield revealed the existence of the White House taping system in July 1973, it was obvious that there was a completely neutral eyewitness to the White House conversations about which lawmakers were asking — the tapes that had been made of those conversations.

Congressional investigators did not have to rely on flawed human memories. They could listen to the tapes, and those tapes could verify what was said and by whom. Anyone who had answered truthfully when asked about his involvement in the coverup would be exonerated. Anyone who had not answered those questions truthfully would be exposed as dishonest.

When the taping system's existence was revealed, I heard many of Nixon's defenders say that they wished he would release the tapes. They would prove he had been telling the truth, and the Watergate scandal would go away.

Well, that was the thinking, but Nixon steadfastly refused to release the tapes — and the longer he did, the more his support tended to erode. Then as now, perception was reality, and the growing perception was that Nixon had something to hide.

That perception turned out to be correct, but the American people, the vast majority of whom had voted for Nixon's re–election two years earlier, were hesitant to believe it. At the time — and still today — I believed that hesitance enabled Nixon to drag the scandal out a few more months.

If Nixon had been blessed with an engaging personality, like the present occupant of the White House, he might have been able to drag his feet long enough to finish his term. But Nixon's was a dark, brooding kind of personality, cold and prickly, not warm and fuzzy. He didn't inspire much loyalty — except from those who, for whatever reason, did his bidding (and paid for it).

Barack Obama, however, does have a warm and fuzzy personality. That is the real secret of his success. His ratings on that question about whether a president (or presidential candidate) cares about people like the respondent are always through the roof. That's what Obama's 2012 campaign was about, wasn't it? It was designed to persuade swing voters that Mitt Romney and the Republicans were elitist snobs who didn't care about ordinary folks — or, to be more precise, blacks, women, gays, immigrants, the poor.

Re–election campaigns tend to be about achievements, those that are finished and those that are works in progress. Well, that's the way they used to be.

While the fact that Obama made history as the first nonwhite president was a pleasant bonus, it wasn't the main reason why most people voted for him in 2008. He was elected mostly because of the terrible economy and the escalating jobs crisis, and Americans wanted to be out of two wars that were sucking up American lives and treasure at an alarming rate.

When times are bad, voters go for the other option.

In short, there were serious problems that needed to be resolved. Certain expectations came with the job, and voters decided, as they almost always do in such a situation, to go with the other party's nominee.

Economists later told America that the recession actually ended after about six months of Obama's presidency, and some kind of recovery should have taken place — but, if asked about it today, most Americans will say that they don't believe the recession ever ended — or, if it did, they don't believe there has been a recovery.

Obama couldn't run on his economic record. He had a more stable foreign policy record in September 2012 — and he may well have intended to run on that record — but then there was that attack on the embassy in Benghazi, and four Americans were killed, including the ambassador. He and Joe Biden continued to mention the fact that Osama bin Laden had been killed on his watch, but the race was close in the autumn of 2012.

Perhaps the Democrats felt the truth about Benghazi would undermine the case they had been making that Obama's foreign policy was succeeding. That is the argument the president's detractors have made, anyway.

That didn't work too well in 2012, but a lot has happened since then. Obama's second–term agenda hasn't been getting any traction — whether that is due, as the president contends, to obstructionism or his administration's own shortcomings, as in the rollout of Obamacare, is a subject for a different debate — and his party already is facing mounting problems in what always (from the perspective of history) figured to be a problematic sixth–year midterm election.

And now the release of emails from September 2012 have raised new and troubling questions about the administration's actions on the night of the attack — and how those actions may have been motivated by domestic political concerns.

House Republicans want to assemble a select committee to investigate, to ask the questions that the emails have raised, but their Democratic colleagues are not sure they will participate.

Seems to me that would be a lot like when Nixon refused to release the tapes.

My understanding is that the Democrats cannot be compelled to participate in the committee's hearings, but the Republicans still would hold them. Do the Democrats really want to let every assertion that is made go unchallenged? And in a midterm election year?

As I understand it, a select committee does not have the authority to charge anyone with anything, but, like the Senate Watergate Committee 40 years ago, it can call witnesses and issue subpoenas.

If no one is there to defend the administration, it will feed a perception that can only add to Democrats' electoral woes.

On the other hand, Republicans need to be careful. The wind is at their backs on this one, but they need to avoid appearing too political. If they make their argument about transparency and good, law–abiding government, it will help their cause.

As will Nixon's true legacy in all of this — the case of United States v. Nixon.

Saturday, April 5, 2014

Looking Out for Number One


"Honesty is the best policy — when there is money in it."

Mark Twain

I'll be the first one to tell you that I was never very strong in certain subjects in school.

I knew a few people who got terrific grades in just about everything — there was one in particular who made it look stupefyingly easy, but she was such a sweet person that no one held it against her when she messed up the curve for the rest of us — but I'm sure they would tell you there were subjects at which they had to really work to keep that grade–point average up.

There may be some people in this world who do have a natural aptitude for just about every scholastic subject, but I have yet to meet one — just people who have successfully cultivated the appearance of brilliance.

And that is probably almost as good as if they really are brilliant. What people believe to be true tends to trump whatever is true.

That's what makes the art of spin so important in the world of politics. Even if they don't know much else, politicians do know a lot about the image–reality dynamic. When it is working in their favor, they ride the wave. But when the tide goes against them, they need the professional spinmeisters to turn things around.

In my experience, most politicians weren't the brightest bulbs in the box when they were in school. In fact, many might have been the polar opposite of that girl I mentioned earlier.

But the successful ones always seem to have known when it was time to trust their futures to the professional spinmeisters — who could, as I used to hear the adults in my world say from time to time, make chicken salad out of chicken s**t. In some circles — and depending upon what was being said — I guess that was/is called bluffing.

Sometimes, though, even spin won't work. That's when the strategy seems to be simply to change the subject.

And this year, with the party primaries in the midterm election campaigns now in full swing, a news event seems to have been made to order for changing the subject — the disappearance of Malaysia Airlines Flight 370. It is a story that has been going on for nearly a month, much of it spent watching search parties fly over the Indian Ocean.

As I write this, the searchers apparently are no closer to learning the flight's fate than they have been in the last four weeks — but they continue to chase every lead, no matter how unlikely it may be. And news networks are lampooned for labeling a 4–week–old story breaking news.

But for politicians, particularly Democrats and most especially those in federal office, it means attention is taken away from the facts about Obamacare and the economy. For them, that is almost certainly a good thing.

Now, economics was one of those subjects I took in college because I was required to do so, not because I had any special understanding of the material. It was like a foreign language to me, and I never had much success learning a second language, either.

I have friends who were and still are fluent in economics. I have always freely admitted that I am not. I sure did try to be when I was in that class. I spent hours reading and re–reading the chapters of my ECON textbooks, hoping some of it would stick, but I regret to report that little, if any, of it did.

(Well, as Will Rogers used to say, we're all ignorant. We're just ignorant about different things.)

And today, most of my understanding of economics is based on my understanding of logic. That normally helps me in unfamiliar territory — but economics really is another matter. It has a logic all its own.

I don't understand the whimsical nature of the stock market or the prices of gold and silver — or, to be honest, monetary policy in general.

But I do have a basic understanding of natural law. See, I took physics in high school. I didn't do very well at it, but I understood enough about motion and similar principles from my own observations of the world that I wasn't completely lost in that class.

I knew that every action has an equal and opposite reaction — from something as simple as playing baseball. To hit a ball a great distance, it was necessary to swing with as much force as possible. You don't hit the ball out of the park by squaring up to bunt.

And I knew from basic math that if you have a certain quantity of something and you give up a portion of it — through commerce or consumption or whatever — you are left with less to consume or trade for other things.

It isn't rocket science. And, for me, that is definitely a good thing.

Back when Barack Obama ran for president the first time, I freely acknowledge seeing logic in some of his objectives, but the recession and the economic implosion left what I thought was an unavoidable conclusion. The jobs crisis had to be met first — before any of the other objectives could be met.

Yes, I said, the health care system needs to be reformed. But not trashed — and certainly not while this nation is on its economic knees. Put America back to work so there is a solid economic foundation upon which to rebuild health care.

If we didn't do that, I warned, we would see premiums and deductibles go up, policies canceled, existing full–time jobs downgraded to part–time ones, and existing part–time jobs eliminated.

Yes, I said, the minimum wage should be higher. But we shouldn't forget that it was really only intended as a minimum entry–level wage. Over time, as the individual gains experience and knowledge, that individual will receive raises, bonuses, all sorts of additional incentives.

And I was also uncomfortable with the idea of raising the minimum wage by nearly 40%. It was unrealistic to think that businesses could give their current workers that kind of raise and be able to increase their workers' hours, much less create new jobs.

The economy is not one big faceless entity in spite of what we hear about a handful of massive corporations that monopolize everything. Yes, there are huge corporations that do control an ever–growing segment of the U.S. economy, but much of America's economic activity is still in the hands of small business owners. There may not be as many mom–and–pop shops as there once were, but they still drive the American economy.

Except for the newcomers, I guess nearly all small business owners have been in business for awhile. They're bound to have a pretty good idea what kind of annual profits they can expect from their businesses, and they budget accordingly. When their incomes don't meet their needs because of added financial demands, they have to make adjustments. Maybe minor adjustments in the prices being charged or the products/services being offered will bring things back into balance. Sometimes they have to cut employee hours. They may have to cut some jobs.

If you own your business and the math isn't balancing, you look for ways to make it balance. If you are required to meet new guidelines that take money from your budget, you have to compensate for that. If you are required to pay your employees more, you have to compensate for that as well.

You do what you have to do. Same in your personal life. If you are spending more than you're taking in, you have to find ways to economize. You have to function within your means.

It's physics. It's the law of survival — looking out for number one. And you can't blame anyone for that, can you?

If someone tries to sell me on the idea, the image that America can do things that I know in my heart are at odds with natural law, I resist. Because reality tells me otherwise, and I have to ask:

Why should the United States be immune to natural law?

That is the great unasked question in America today. But I get the feeling that more and more Americans are asking it in their hearts and minds.

The latest Associated Press-GfK poll indicates more movement away from the Democrats. That is bad news in the midterm election year.

I believe it is due, in part, to the fact that more people are realizing that, without a sound foundation, no lasting achievements are possible.

Sunday, March 23, 2014

The Truth About Midterms



The president spoke at a Democrat fundraiser in Miami a few days ago — and, once again, the former constitutional law professor demonstrated an amazing lack of understanding of how things work in America.

That's really remarkable, given the fact that the man has run in two national campaigns and has been immersed in the Washington political culture for nearly a decade — in addition to the time he spent teaching constitutional law.

I know that most Americans really have no knowledge of American history, but I've always wanted to believe that the president, whoever he happened to be, was more knowledgeable than the average American — if only because he or someone acting on his behalf researched something before he opened his mouth.

When he said that Democrats "do pretty well in presidential elections" but "get clobbered" in midterms, Obama was playing the victim card once again.

Surely, I thought to myself, he must know better than that. He's been to college, where he must have had to study some history. He's written books, which required him to write and think about history. He's been president, a role in which he has made history, for more than five years. He knows it isn't as simple as he suggests.

He isn't stupid, is he?

Maybe he has a selective memory. Or at least a very short–term one that doesn't predate his presidency.

Granted, his only experience with midterms during his presidency wasn't a good one. The Democrats did get clobbered. They lost 64 seats in the House.

And, from that same perspective, presidential election years have been better for Democrats, at least during the Obama era. In the years when he was at the top of the ballot, Democrats gained seats in Congress.

But that is how it usually is for presidents, regardless of party. Historically, midterms have been referendums on presidencies. Most of the time, they aren't favorable, even when a popular president sits in the Oval Office. The lower a president's job approval ratings are, the worse midterm elections tend to be.

(And that doesn't bode well for Obama, whose approval ratings are generally worse now than they were at this point in the 2010 election cycle.)

Obama's presidency only covers the last six years — actually, it is more like years right now. In the context of the lifespan of a nation that will celebrate the 238th anniversary of its Declaration of Independence this July, that is less than 3% of the total. Even if you calculate that lifetime from 1789, when George Washington was elected America's first president, it still represents less than 3% of the total.

In 2006, the last midterm election of the George W. Bush presidency — two years before Obama was elected president and while he was serving in the U.S. Senate — Republicans lost more than 30 House seats and six Senate seats. Democrats seized control of both houses of Congress for the first time since 1994.

I'm quite sure he must have been aware of that when it happened.

In fact, midterms nearly always go against the party that holds the White House. In the last half–century, there have been only two exceptions to that rule — 2002, when voters rallied around the party in power just after the 9–11 attacks, and 1998, when there was a backlash against Republicans for their attempt to impeach Bill Clinton.

Otherwise, the president's party has, to use Obama's expression, been "clobbered."

Well, clobbered isn't always the best word. Sometimes, it hasn't been so bad. In 1990, George H.W. Bush's Republicans lost only one Senate seat and eight House seats as the nation was mobilizing for the Gulf War. Historically, that sort of loss is probably typical.

But sometimes it has been terrible. Clinton's Democrats lost both houses of Congress in 1994 (nine Senate seats, 54 House seats). Ronald Reagan's Republicans lost control of the Senate in the 1986 midterms (eight seats flipped) and lost quite a bit of ground (27 seats) in the House in the 1982 midterms.

There was a time when massive losses were the exceptions to the rule. Most of the time, losses were kept to a handful of seats either way. In 1978, for example, Jimmy Carter's Democrats lost only three seats in the Senate and 15 seats in the House, which may have hinted at but certainly didn't predict Carter's landslide loss in 1980.

In fact, Carter's party suffered losses in 1978 that were dwarfed by the hit the Republicans took in the Watergate midterm of 1974 (five Senate seats and 48 House seats), but the Republican president, Gerald Ford, did much better against Carter in 1976 than Carter did against Reagan in 1980.

That was probably more characteristic of the way things used to be — when most midterm shifts were modest. In those days, massive midterm losses were more rare. When they happened, you knew that habitually long–suffering Americans were running out of patience.

But voters haven't been showing a lot of midterm patience in the last couple of decades — and they have almost never had much patience with the president's party in the sixth year of a presidency.

That alone made Democrats vulnerable in 2014 — along with the fact that the party's success in congressional elections the year Obama was elected president means Democrats have to defend twice as many Senate seats as Republicans. The problems caused by Obamacare and the concern over Russian aggression — as well as lingering scandals — have made the landscape even more treacherous for Democrats.

I mentioned Reagan's problems in the 1986 midterms — and his approval rating before the election was more than 60%.

Dwight Eisenhower's Republicans lost 13 Senate seats and 48 House seats in 1958 — and Ike's approval rating was in the 50s.

Even Franklin D. Roosevelt wasn't immune. His popularity was in the 50s prior to the 1938 midterms, but his Democrats lost six Senate seats and 71 House seats.

Now, I realize that politicians have to project a sense of urgency to get a response from their usually reliable financial backers. Perhaps that is what Obama was doing in Miami — just stirrin' things up, hoping for a reaction. He must know that midterms are seldom kind to sixth–year presidencies, and it usually takes extraordinary circumstances to change that.

Obama's job approval will have a direct bearing on what happens on Election Day.

Based on Gallup's latest numbers (Obama at 43% approval), the president has a lot to do.

Does he have enough time to do it?

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

On Voting



"Men do not differ much about what things they will call evils; they differ enormously about what evils they will call excusable."

G.K. Chesterton

I read with interest an article by Peter Grier in the Christian Science Monitor that sought to clarify what recent poll numbers indicate.

For example,the Associated Press found that, while the majority believe the president is a nice guy, two–thirds rate his presidency as average at best — and nearly half rate his presidency below average. Clearly, liking the president and liking his agenda are two separate things.

I guess one of the most intriguing quotes I read said, in effect, Barack Obama seems like a nice guy, someone I might like to hang out with, but I like a lot of people and most of them aren't qualified to be president.

That's the part of public opinion polling that I have never fully comprehended, I guess. I get that people want to feel good about the people for whom they vote, but, please, try to understand. I was a child during the Nixon years. No one seemed to like him, not even people who voted for him, yet he was elected president twice. The second time he was elected, he got a higher share of the popular vote than anyone in American history except Lyndon Johnson.

The lesson I took from that was somewhat Machiavellian, I guess — a leader does not have to be loved or even liked. (Yet, the questions that are put to modern voters about their political choices — Which candidate do you like best? Which candidate would you rather have a beer with? — suggest that likability is the only thing voters consider.)

But a leader does need to lead.

Being liked simply isn't a requirement of the job. It's a plus, but it isn't necessary. And my assessment, after the special election in Florida, is that Democrats relied too much on the impression that Obama is generally well liked — and gave too little credibility to voter opposition to the policy.

I know that voters want to like the people for whom they vote, but I have voted in many elections, and I know it isn't always possible to like the candidates for whom you choose to vote.

When you're casting your vote, my experience is that you are more likely to encounter a race in which you really don't like either of the candidates as you are to encounter a race in which you do like them. (Most of the time, there will probably be one candidate you like better than the other.)

In every election, though, you really have two options. You can skip voting in that race entirely (you certainly aren't required to vote in every race on your ballot, and I generally do skip at least one such race every election), or, if you have no clear preference in the likability department, you can choose a candidate based on other (usually more important) factors, such as the candidates' relevant experience and records of achievement.

That, too, can be exaggerated, but the truthfulness of what a candidate says about himself or herself can be easily verified by enterprising reporters. So, too, can the success or failure of the policies and programs with which a candidate and/or the candidate's party are linked in the public mind.

Which brings me to the special election in Florida.

It's hard, in the aftermath of yesterday's special election in Florida's 13th congressional district, to avoid wondering just how much of an influence the low popularity of Barack Obama and the implementation of his signature achievement, the passage of Obamacare, had on the outcome — and, by extension, how much it will affect other races across the country in November.

Predictably, Democrats are downplaying the Obamacare part of it. Instead, they are pointing out that Republicans narrowly held on to a seat they have won comfortably for decades. Party cheerleader Debbie Wasserman Schultz was spinning so fast today that the loss amazingly became a positive.

Just as predictably, the Republicans are calling this an early indication of a national rejection of Obamacare. They dismiss the fact that the Republican winner was held under 50% in the three–candidate race. House Speaker John Boehner called it a "big win," which is a considerable stretch.

But here's the bottom line: The special election in Florida's 13th was a "must–win" for Democrats, in the words of political analyst Stuart Rothenberg.

For years, Democrats have been anticipating a takeover when the seat was open. After all, Democratic presidential nominees have carried the district in five of the last six national elections. But the takeover did not happen.

After the votes were counted, Rothenberg wrote this: "The Republican special election win doesn't guarantee anything for November. But it is likely to put Democrats even more on the defensive, undermining grassroots morale and possibly adding fuel to the argument that Democratic dollars should go toward saving the Senate than fighting for the House."

That's about the size of it.

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Why I Am An Independent



From "Inherit the Wind:"

Matthew Harrison Brady: Why is it, my old friend, that you've moved so far away from me?

Henry Drummond: All motion is relative, Matt. Maybe it's you who've moved away by standing still.

Gallup reports that more than two–fifths of Americans self–identify as independents.

That is the highest it has been since Gallup started asking that question a quarter of a century ago, and it indicates that a large portion of the American electorate is up for grabs.

Gallup reported this finding last week, and I have been trying to figure out what it means. The talking heads of all political stripes appear to believe they understand why so many Americans say they belong to neither party, but I think the answer is a lot more complicated than they like to believe.

I have my own thoughts on that, but, ultimately, I can only speak for myself. I, too, consider myself an independent, but I'm sure the path I took is unique to me in most respects.

The fact that so many Americans consider themselves independents suggests several things to me:

For one, I believe winning this voting bloc is going to be a tall order for either party. Both parties will give you ample reasons why the independents should vote for them — indeed, why so many people are leaving the established parties — but I think one of the reasons why so many Americans do identify as independent is because the shrillness of the extreme wings of both parties (and both parties have extremists) turns them off. To win them over, the parties will have to be less accusatory and more placatory.

I repeat, I can only speak for myself. Until a few years ago, I considered myself a Democrat, but I have been bothered by the fact that both parties presume too much about each other — and assume too much about anyone who disagrees with them. Initially, I saw it as the embodiment of George W. Bush's assertion that, essentially, if you ain't with us, you're against us.

(That, in turn, reminds me of some graffiti I read about in my studies of history, graffiti that appeared in Massachusetts in the late 18th century — "Damn John Jay! Damn everyone who won't damn John Jay! Damn everyone who won't stay up all night damning John Jay!" I always thought that was a pretty good example of why George Washington warned against the formation of political parties.)

Now, I think it is far more insidious than anything Bush suggested. Bush's use of that with–us–or–against–us approach was simplistic, but, originally, it was aimed at foreign countries. Now it is aimed at our fellow citizens — from within, and that bothers me a lot.

I believe people who self–identify as independents are uncomfortable with the extremist bent in both parties. They don't care for it in the party they have called their political home, and it is probably the main reason why they have resisted switching to the other party.

Personally, I have never considered joining the Republican Party.

My ideology is more inclusive, always has been, and I concluded, after careful reflection, that my loyalty is not to a party. The way both parties operate these days, they believe a voter's first (and only) loyalty is to his/her party. I don't walk in lockstep with any party. My loyalty is to freedom.

I don't remember when I began identifying myself as a Democrat, but I know who influenced me in making that choice — my parents, especially my mother.

(My father played a role in it as well, but he was never as outspoken about his political beliefs as my mother was. They believed the same things so he seemed content to let her do the talking on politics for both of them.)

As nearly as I can recall, Mom never spoke in terms of Democrat or Republican. She spoke about the qualities of leadership that she admired, and she chose candidates for office who demonstrated those qualities. Usually (but not always), those candidates were Democrats.

She admired them because they stood for tolerance and acceptance. She truly believed in those qualities. She lived them, and it was entirely consistent that, when it was time to vote, she should gravitate to those who were tolerant and accepting.

(Mom also encouraged my faith in basic American concepts like freedom of the press and freedom of speech.)

I followed her lead because I believed in the same things — and, for most of my adult life, I voted almost exclusively for Democrats.

But times were different when I was a boy. Both parties had strong centrist factions. There were liberal Republicans and conservative Democrats. Party division wasn't nearly as divisive then as it has become. There were healthy and vigorous debates on most issues in both parties. The concept of the big tent really applied to both parties.

When I was growing up, Mom really embodied the concept of tolerance and acceptance — for me, I know, but also for the people who knew her. She was active in community groups that promoted positive relationships between races, religious groups, etc. She is still remembered in my Arkansas hometown for her commitment to making it a better place for all.

Even as a child, I was proud of her for that. I'm prouder still today.

But our friends weren't exclusively Democrats. If they had been, I suppose my family's circle of friends would have been considerably smaller than it was.

My mother taught my brother and me to cast a wide net for friends, to look beyond those things that divided us, and I have tried to do that. I haven't always succeeded, but I have tried.

She never told me to shun people with whom I did not agree.

I often wonder what she would think of today's Democrats because that is exactly what they do. Most of them, anyway. Not all, but most. I speak from personal experience. There are people I have known since college (some longer than that) who have thrown me under the bus because of politics.

A conversation I had is fairly representative of others I have had. Why are you a Republican? I was asked by a Democrat whom I have known for a long time. (Well, at least, he asked me why. I have other "friends" who never bothered to ask that question before tossing me in the path of an oncoming train.)

I'm not a Republican, I replied. I'm an independent.

You're a hater and a racist.

No, I'm not.

You hate Barack Obama because he's black.

(This accusation has been made against me often but never with any supporting evidence. That doesn't surprise me because there is no such evidence. But that is irrelevant to the accusers. You see, I have learned — the hard way — that you have to be careful when you are accused of this because it is the equivalent of the old "Have you stopped beating your wife?" query. If you say that you don't hate Obama because he is black, you are implying that you do hate him for some other reason — and I don't hate him at all.)

No, I don't. I disagree with him.

(That really does express how I feel. I didn't vote for Obama in 2008, but I didn't vote for John McCain, either — I voted for Ralph Nader. After Obama was elected, I told people I was willing to give him a chance, that I would judge him on his record of encouraging job creation.

(And that is precisely what I did when he sought a second term.)
"I didn't leave the Democratic Party. It left me."

Ronald Reagan

How did it come to this? I don't know. I do know that I really started to notice a shift in Democrat attitudes about five or six years ago, and I felt increasingly uneasy.

See, one of the things that bothered me most about the Bush years was the way that his supporters accused those who disagreed with him of being unpatriotic. That flew in the face of something that I have always believed — that the very essence of freedom and patriotism is the right to criticize the government without fear of being impugned.

At the time, most Democrats seemed to agree with me. But I came to realize they were taking notes on the actions of their Republican colleagues and refining them for future use. Once they seized congressional power, they began using the same tactic — and accelerated it — after Barack Obama was elected president because they could replace unpatriotic with racist to squelch criticism.

No doubt, there are some racists among those who criticize Obama, but criticism of Obama is not proof of racism any more than criticism of past presidents by blacks or Hispanics or any other minority group was proof that those voters were racist.

I don't object to a black president (or a yellow one or a brown one, either). I do object to an incompetent one of any color.

Perhaps the thing that troubles me the most in our present political environment is the tendency to make race or gender or religion or sexual preference more important than anything else. Such things are irrelevant to me. What matters to me is whether the person in question can do the job.

In the past, I have voted for non–whites, non–males, non–heterosexuals. Voted for some in the most recent election, in fact. I voted for some Democrats. I voted for some Republicans. I didn't vote based on labels. That, it seems to me, is what being an independent is all about.

I was bemused recently by the reactions, as expressed on Facebook, of some diehard Democrats here in Texas when Charlie Strong, the coach of the Louisville football team, was named coach at the University of Texas.

Strong is black, and these two Democrats could only talk about how UT and its longtime rival, Texas A&M, both have black football coaches now. Not one word was said about Strong's qualifications as a coach and an educator. Not one word was said about his coaching style or his ability to recruit talented football players — or his record of graduating his players.

UT is very oriented to recent results. The man Strong is replacing, Mack Brown, brought Texas its first national championship in 35 years, and he coached the Longhorns in another national championship game a few years later. But the last couple of years have been very un–Texas–like.

I predict that Strong will be judged on his results, the same as any other coach at UT. If he wins his conference and, perhaps, coaches the Longhorns to the national championship game, he will keep his job. If he continues the recent trend of eight– and nine–win seasons, well, that might be good enough at other schools, but it wasn't good enough for Mack Brown or his predecessors at UT to remain in the good graces of the athletic department and its wealthy boosters.

Nevertheless, if Strong is dismissed because he doesn't make the Longhorns a Top 10 team, I further predict that there will be those, possibly many, who will say he was fired because of racism. It is the nature of the times.

As far as I am concerned, both parties rely on stereotypes to discredit the opposition. That has been part of the political game as long as I can remember, but never to today's extent. it has completely overwhelmed everything else.

And I think that explains, to a great extent, why so many Americans think of themselves as independents. The parties aren't working together, and that's what the voters want them to do. They want real solutions to real problems. They want the people who have been elected to high office to do what they were elected to do — solve problems — instead of pointing fingers at each other.

I don't know if it entirely explains my decision, but I suspect I will continue to try to explain it to people who are determined not to listen for a long time.

Friday, October 18, 2013

Democrats Not Likely to Catch a 'Wave' in 2014



The federal shutdown ended this week — just in time to avoid default.

As the government shutdown dragged on, I heard some Democrats gleefully anticipating a "wave" election next year that will restore a Democrat majority to the House of Representatives.

With public opinion polls showing Congress' approval at record low levels, I suppose that is a normal reaction, even one to be expected, but history simply doesn't support it. Frankly, it sounds a lot like the talk that was prevalent four years ago, just after Barack Obama took office, that held that Democrats would be in charge of things for a generation, at least.

Of course, history has been turned on its ear in the last two presidential elections. A nation that had never so much as nominated a black man for president before 2008 has now elected a black president twice. With Gallup reporting that, less than a year after Obama's re–election, congressional approval is at 11%, doesn't it follow that Republicans in Congress are in, to use a George H.W. Bush expression, deep doo–doo?

Well, that assumes that a midterm election is really no different than a presidential election — and that simply has not been true historically. It wasn't even true in the first midterm election of this president's tenure. Less than two years after he took office with stunningly high approval ratings (when there was literally nothing of which to approve or disapprove), Obama saw his party lose more than 60 seats in the House.

Democrats regained eight seats in 2012, but that was achieved with the president's name at the top of the ballot. Having Obama on the ballot brought out many voters who typically do not vote, just as it did four years earlier. But, without him on the ballot, those voters reverted to historical form and did not participate in the 2010 midterms.

At best, Obama will be an advocate for others in 2014 — that is, when he chooses to participate. He didn't tend to lend much support to Democrats who were on the ballot in 2010 until it was too late to make much difference.

The great unknown about 2014 is the impact that Obamacare will have. In the first 2½ weeks, there have been conflicting accounts about the success or failure of the initial efforts, mostly focusing on the woes of the websites being used to enroll people. In a year, it will be clearer how the system is performing, whether it is delivering everything that was promised, and that is sure to influence the election.

But this year's shutdown will be forgotten. After all, another one is looming in just 90 days.

The midterms in the sixth year of a presidency have been, historically speaking, brutal for the president's party. The exceptions to that truly are few and far between.

No doubt, Democrats will recall that they fared all right in the midterms that were held in Bill Clinton's sixth year in office, but that was more backlash against the Republicans for going ahead with unpopular impeachment proceedings than anything else.

Sixth–year midterms typically go poorly for the party in the White House. Recent history tells the tale. George W. Bush's Republicans lost both chambers of Congress in 2006. Ronald Reagan's Republicans lost the Senate to the Democrats in 1986. In the sixth year of the Nixon–Ford presidency, the Democrats (helped in no small measure by the Watergate scandal) padded their majorities in the House and Senate — by nearly the same number of seats they lost in 1966, the sixth year of the Kennedy–Johnson presidency.

Sixth–year midterms almost always go badly for the president's party, no matter how popular the president may be. Reagan's approval rating was in the 60s in October 1986. Dwight Eisenhower's approval rating was in the 50s in his sixth–year midterm in 1958.

The more unpopular the president is, though (and it is worth noting that, while approval for Congress currently is historically low, Barack Obama isn't doing terribly well, either), the greater the challenge for his party.

There have been only two real exceptions to that in midterms in general in the last 80 years — 2002 and 1998 — and both could be said to have been due to unique (or almost unique) circumstances.

In 2002, the country was still reeling from the Sept. 11, 2001 terrorist attacks on New York and Washington. Bush and the Republicans were rewarded for their efforts to stop terrorism with gains of eight House seats and two Senate seats. Four years later, in the "wave" of 2006, they lost 30 House seats and six Senate seats.

In 1998, Clinton's Democrats benefited from backlash against Republicans for their insistence on pursuing impeachment proceedings. They didn't really gain much, just four House seats and no Senate seats, but that's better than parties in their sixth year of occupying the White House typically do — and it was a whole lot better than Democrats did during the first midterm election of Clinton's presidency — when they lost 54 seats.

It's possible, of course, that 2014 will turn out to be a rare wave midterm that benefits the occupant of the White House, but, at the moment, it appears to be lacking the catalyst that could make that happen.

Even under the most advantageous midterm conditions, an incumbent's party hasn't won more House seats than Bush's Republicans did since 1902, exactly a century earlier, when both parties gained more than a dozen seats following the 1900 Census and the creation of 29 House seats.

Obama's Democrats need to win more than twice as many House seats as Bush's Republicans did 11 years ago merely to earn an extremely narrow edge in that chamber. To achieve that, it seems to me, Obama's agenda will need to gain some serious traction in the next year, but the steam seemed to have left that engine before the shutdown. There was already talk of how lame–duck status had been settling in even before Obama began his saber rattling over Syria. It might be set in stone by now.

Sunday, October 6, 2013

A Plague on Both Your Houses



When I was a small boy, my mother told me that a few things were true about the United States and the people who live here and those things always would be true, no matter which political party was in control of things.

And I still believe what she told me even though it is more difficult with each passing day.

Americans, she said to me, always tolerate more than one opinion. Americans are respectful of each other, she said, even when they disagree.

And Americans are fair.

She told me these things when there was a lot of polarization in America. Americans were polarized by race, by gender, by religion, by age. There were riots in the streets of every major city. America in 2013 is a day at the beach compared to that.

Mom was a Democrat. Until recently, I considered myself a Democrat, too, but I have come to realize that, if Democrats ever really were what Mom believed they were, they ain't that anymore.

I've never been an advocate of federal government shutdowns as a tactic, and I've seen quite a few in my life. They have occurred during Republican administrations and Democrat administrations alike. They have been engineered by both parties in Congress. Neither side is guiltless.

And, as far as I can tell, all that shutdowns do is impose unnecessary pain and suffering on average Americans while politicians in both parties use them as pawns.

In a way, shutdowns are like filibusters — desperate measures that are doomed to fail. A shutdown is more of a strongarm measure than a filibuster, though. It has more of a thuggish feeling to it whereas a filibuster is often idealized as a lone man — or woman — taking a stand against an unbeatable foe.

In Hollywood — "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington," for instance — filibusters can alter outcomes. In real life, they seldom do.

I suppose the same is true of shutdowns. I don't recall any movies about shutdowns — unless you want to count something like the general strike in "Gandhi," which, in reality, was a "day of prayer and fasting" during which no work was done and really only represents a few paragraphs, not even a whole chapter, in his life's story.

Perhaps someday — maybe even someday soon — there will be a "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington" kind of movie that idealizes — even romanticizes — a shutdown and its objectives. Perhaps it will be presented as a noble, selfless, last–ditch effort to right a terrible wrong.

But I digress.

I'm not a supporter of Obamacare for many reasons, but, at this point, I'm just about resigned to the fact that it will be implemented regardless of how I feel. I've decided not to enroll, to just go ahead and pay the fine and see how it works out for others in the first year. I have a pretty good idea what is going to happen, but I'm not going to tell anyone else whether or not to enroll.

I wrote here the other day that I thought Ted Cruz's filibuster was a lost cause — and I did think that and I still do — but I admire him for taking that stand, anyway, ostensibly on behalf of those who have no voice in Washington — even though most of it probably was political posturing.

(Everyone claims to know what a politician will do, but, in my experience, that is seldom true. Some thought Hillary Clinton would run for president in 2008, and she did. Others thought Sarah Palin would run in 2012, and she did not. Likewise, there are those who think Cruz is setting himself up for a presidential run. I don't know if he is or not. Time will tell.)

Anyway, in the last few days, I have been contributing my thoughts to a thread posted on Facebook by a local minister with whom I am acquainted. I guess that was a mistake.

I found out pretty quickly that the contributors to the thread — Democrats all, apparently — had no interest in hearing dissenting opinions on Obamacare. They would only tolerate those who agreed with them, and when they found out that I didn't, they turned on me like a pack of savage, snarling dogs.

I was accused of racism (even though I never mentioned race until it was used against me) and I was actually accused of denying health care to millions of Americans.

(For the record, that is something else I never said.)

Imagine that! I haven't been giving myself nearly enough credit for the influence I wield.

I thought I was an underpaid adjunct professor in the local community college system — but apparently, my belief that a one–year extension should be available to anyone who wants it is enough to bring the whole Obamacare house of cards tumbling down.

It didn't matter to them that their accusations were false. When I pointed out what I really said and, at times, tried to explain myself more clearly, not only did no one apologize for making the original false accusation, they repeated it over and over.

As Hitler said, if you repeat a lie often enough, it will be accepted as the truth. The more outrageous the lie, the more people will believe it. Hey, I have a bachelor's and a master's in journalism. I know about propaganda techniques.

Democrats wanted people to believe they had learned from their many years in the legislative wilderness when they recaptured control of Congress in 2006. But all they really learned from the Republicans was how to slander those with whom they disagree.

Yes, I know about propaganda. I also know my Shakespeare.

There are no good guys or bad guys in this impasse. There is no compassion or tolerance on either side.

In Shakespeare's words, a plague on both your houses.

Monday, September 2, 2013

Between a Rock and a Hard Place



There were times — not many but a few — in my college days when I played some poker with my friends.

I was never very good at it, especially the art of bluffing — and I say that with all due respect because I'm sure those guys who were good at bluffing have gone on to enjoy great success in whichever career paths they followed.

Especially if their career paths were political. Politics frequently requires good bluffing — in other words, having what is known as a "poker face." I've heard it said that Richard Nixon developed quite a poker face from playing poker in the service during World War II. Apparently, it served him well in negotiations he had as president with the Russians and Chinese.

I believe effective bluffing can be boiled down to two parts — 1) plausibly asserting that something is true, whether it is or not, and 2) successfully backing it up when challenged (i.e., when one's bluff is called).

I'm no lawyer, but, in my mind, I equate it with the legal distinction between assault and battery. It's been my experience that a lot of people think assault and battery is a single crime. It isn't.

I don't remember now when I first heard this explained, whether it was during my reporting days when I covered the police beat or on some occasion when I reported for jury duty and a lawyer was questioning prospective jurors.

It might have been something I heard when I was studying communications law in college although that is probably unlikely since neither legal term would have had much to do with communications — directly, anyway.

In case you don't know, an assault is basically a threat, presumably of physical harm (although, in the modern world, I guess you would have to define a threat of computer hacking as an assault as well — not necessarily a physical threat but a financial one, which can, in due course, threaten life).

If the person who is being threatened believes the other person is capable of carrying out the threat, that is assault. If the threat is actually carried out, that is battery.

Barack Obama did the bluffing part last year when he declared that there was a "red line" in Syria — no chemical weapons use would be tolerated.

Now there are reports that Obama's bluff has been called. Apparently, Syria has used chemical weapons on its people. Recently.

Tom Foreman of CNN writes that this has left Obama with three options: "Bad, worse, and horrible."

Actually, Foreman outlines more than three options, but, at the end of his piece, he acknowledges that, for a variety of reasons, it all comes down to one — firing cruise missiles from ships in the Mediterranean.

Such missiles, he writes, "are magnificent, virtually unstoppable weapons capable of pinpoint, devastating strikes." But the delay in using them complicates matters. The Syrians have had plenty of time already "to hide their own weapons, secure their airplanes and disperse critical command and control assets."

That sounds like what some of George W. Bush's defenders still say about the invasion of Iraq. That invasion, if you recall, was predicated on the belief that Iraq had stockpiles of weapons of mass destruction it would use against the United States, and it was necessary to eliminate them.

To many people, that sounded plausible in the immediate aftermath of 9–11, but no such weapons were found.

Supporters of the invasion insisted Iraq's leaders had moved the stockpiles of weapons. If they did, those weapons still have not been located.

Anyway, at that point, the objective changed from rooting out dangerous weapons to nation building, which was not an original objective of the mission.

In recent days, I have heard supporters of this president justify his taking unilateral action in Syria because other presidents have been launching undeclared wars (and conveniently bypassing the Constitution in the process) since the end of World War II.

But let's get back to our current predicament. I can't speak for anyone else, but I do not blame Obama for this mess — well, not entirely.

Any president who faced these circumstances would be between a rock and a hard place. There are no good options to take, only bad ones and worse ones. I realize that the option I advocate is a bad one, but, in the absence of any good ones ...

At least a portion of these circumstances, however, is Obama's fault. He is the one who drew the red line and told Syria not to cross it. He did that a year ago.

A prudent president would have devoted the past year to building a congressional consensus to authorize him to attack — just in case. Instead, he spent much of that time demonizing the opposition party rather than seeking common ground, knowing full well that he would need the cooperation of the Republican–controlled House to do anything if Syria called his bluff.

None of the polls I saw last year — including the most important one, the one on Election Day — suggested that Obama's party had a prayer of retaking the House. He must have known long before the election that, if he did win, he would have to deal with a Republican–controlled House for at least the first two years of his second term.

As a former constitutional law professor, he should have known that he would need to curry favor with influential Republicans in the House.

And a prudent president would have been building a coalition of American allies. This president has not been doing that, and now it appears we must do whatever we are going to do alone — or practically so.

He says he will consult Congress when it returns from its Labor Day recess, but Congress won't be in session again for a week. That is even more time for Syria to prepare for missile strikes.

Obama is more concerned, it seems, with public opinion polls that suggest that, by margins of 39% to 52%, a majority of Americans opposes military intervention in Syria.

If at last Obama is paying attention to the concerns of the voters, that isn't a bad thing. The American people have witnessed a decade of war that has cost them much but gained them little. The president should consider them, the sacrifices they already have made and the additional sacrifices they are being asked to make, before taking any action — assuming that Congress gives him the green light.

But he should have been laying the groundwork for this for months. He and his secretary of state made naive, false — and dangerous — assumptions about the people with whom they were dealing, and now the global credibility of the United States is at stake. If we do not enforce Obama's red line, what does anyone else have to fear from us?

Polling data suggest that most Americans oppose the idea of an attack, but a majority would support a limited strike.

I think that would be worse than doing nothing (which I believe is the least bad option). A limited strike, lasting a day or two — or perhaps an hour or two — instead of a few weeks (or even months) would be symbolic at best, a virtual slap on the wrist.

Syria (and others like it, in the region and elsewhere) would be emboldened. They would know that there is a price to be paid for using chemical weapons — but that price would be negligible, one that they would willingly pay.

For a missile strike to be more than symbolic, for it to inflict a lesson on Syria that will be felt throughout the region and beyond, it cannot be a limited strike. It cannot be a slap on the wrist that is really intended to give Obama political cover.

To be effective, it must be relentless. It must be decisive. And I don't believe the American people have the stomach for that right now.

I am inclined to sympathize with Obama. He is truly between a rock and a hard place.

But he got there mostly on his own — and now, after nearly five years in the White House, it is high time he learned what leadership is about.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

On Transparency and 'Phony Scandals'



"My [a]dministration is committed to creating an unprecedented level of openness in [g]overnment. ... Government should be transparent. Transparency promotes accountability and provides information for citizens about what their [g]overnment is doing."

Barack Obama
White House memorandum

Mark this date in red — Aug. 9, 2013.

That was the day Barack Obama held his most recent press conference — and I'm talking about the kind of press conference where the president actually takes questions from the press instead of ducking in to pontificate about some topic that really is beneath the attention of the president and then ducking out before anyone in the press corps has time to ask a question.

When I was growing up, presidents used press conferences (and primetime speeches) to keep the American public informed — especially during national crises. Presidents didn't always hold them any more often than Obama does, but they dealt with substantive topics, and they didn't allow reporters who were perceived as friendly to the administration to ask all or most of the questions.

But Obama, who was pledging to have a "transparent" presidency before he took the oath of office the first time, doesn't have press conferences very often. Oh, sure, he appears in joint press conferences with foreign leaders and other dignitaries with whom he dined and/or conferred in private — in fact, so far, that accounts for more than half of the press conferences he has held since becoming president.

And he does appear to favor those who don't ask him the tough, watchdog–type of questions over those who do, granting access to the lapdogs.

According to the American Presidency Project, Obama averages fewer than two press conferences per month — a pace that certainly would be lower if his first year in office had been like the last four.

As it is, his average is far lower than any president in the last quarter century — and it is lower than any Democratic president (other than Jimmy Carter) since World War I.

Given the turmoil in the Middle East and the fact that the administration had closed more than 20 diplomatic outposts in the region, I would classify this as a crisis — although I'm inclined to think that most days under Obama's watch have been crises.

Consequently, it would have been a good time to explain to the American people what was going on.

It was ironic, too, that Obama should hold his press conference on that particular day — and in that particular location, the East Room of the White House. Thirty–nine years earlier — to the day and in the same room — President Richard Nixon made his farewell address to the White House staff, then departed shortly before Vice President Gerald Ford took the oath of office.

But it isn't so much the frequency (or lack thereof) of Obama's press conferences that concerns me as it is the content.

And that, I must conclude, is not so much the president's fault as it is the journalists'. I'm willing to concede the possibility that, in private, Obama encourages reporters to ask him tougher questions, but I do not get the sense that that is the case. Instead, I get the feeling that Obama rewards friendly journalists with access and denies access to the less–friendly ones.

(Reminiscent of Nixon's famed enemies list.)

In last week's press conference, somebody in the White House press corps should have asked Obama to identify which of the scandals that have plagued the White House in 2013 are "phony" and why he believes that is so? I think it is a legitimate question, given how often Obama has referred to "phony scandals" (and elicited wildly approving cheers from his supporters) in his never–ending campaign for Obamacare.

But no one asked the question.

Obama is entitled to believe that a topic being discussed in public is "phony" — but I do not believe that he or any other president should be allowed to make such an allegation without being held accountable for it.

That, unfortunately, is what is being allowed to happen. Everything that Obama says, no matter how outrageous it may be, goes unquestioned by the press, and, as a journalist, I am embarrassed by what I see.

Now, Obama isn't the first president to make outrageous statements — nor will he be the last — so I can't really fault him for that. And he isn't the first — nor will he be the last — to make outrageous statements that have gone unchallenged so I can't really fault him for that, either.

Nor can I fault him for not asking the press to throw him some fastballs when he was having so much success driving the softballs they kept lobbing to him out of the park.

But I can and do fault the press for utterly failing to do its job.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

When Clinton Hit Back



"What we're doing is sending a message against the people who were responsible for planning this operation. ... [If] anybody asks the same people to do it again, they will remember this message."

Secretary of Defense Les Aspin
Washington Post
June 1993

Believe it or not, there was a time — not so long ago — when American presidents wouldn't hesitate to act if a single American was threatened, much less actually injured or killed.

Such a case occurred 20 years ago today.

To put it in context: A couple of months earlier, former President George H.W. Bush — the man Bill Clinton had beaten in the previous year's presidential election — was in Kuwait to commemorate the conclusion of the Persian Gulf War. Seventeen people were arrested and charged with conspiring to kill Bush with explosives that were hidden in a vehicle.

No explosions occurred. No one was hurt. But Clinton was convinced, largely because of information gathered and analyzed by American foreign and domestic intelligence operatives, that the plot originated in Iraq — and 20 years ago today, he used American military might for the first time, ordering nearly two dozen cruise missile strikes on Iraqi intelligence facilities.

The strikes were meant both as retaliation for the plot and warning not to attempt anything like it again. But Clinton didn't shoot first and ask questions afterward. He explored numerous options, even those he felt did not go far enough. Eventually he selected one on the recommendation of the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

"I felt we would have been justified in hitting Iraq harder," Clinton wrote in his presidential memoirs, "but [Colin] Powell made a persuasive case that the attack would deter further Iraqi terrorism and that dropping bombs on more targets, including presidential palaces, would have been unlikely to kill Saddam Hussein and almost certain to kill more innocent people."

Most of the missiles hit their intended targets, but a few overshot, and eight civilians were killed.

"It was a stark reminder," Clinton wrote, "that no matter how careful the planning and how accurate the weapons, when that kind of firepower is unleashed, there are usually unintended consequences."

The occasion of this anniversary has led me to think about two recent events that tell me much of what I need to know about U.S. policy in the 21st century.

First, the evasive stance taken by Barack Obama and the members of his administration after the deadly attacks on the embassy in Benghazi last year tells me the executive branch is not willing to stand up for Americans abroad, be they dead or alive — unless there are clear benefits in doing so.

Second, Obama's recent argument in a speech at the National Defense University that the war on terror must end as all wars do shows a staggering naivete. Rhetorically, it sounds good, but the problem is that the war on terror is not a conventional war with armies and generals. It cannot be resolved in conventional ways — if, in fact, it can be resolved at all.

When you are dealing with terrorists, you are not dealing with anything as organized or concentrated as a single army or nation. Your enemies could be from anywhere on the globe — including your own back yard — and as long as even one is on the loose, so is the danger.

Sympathizers with the opposition have always been around — there were Nazi and Japanese sympathizers in America during World War II — but they weren't generally viewed as combatants unless they took some kind of aggressive action.

By the very nature of their activities, terrorists must be regarded — automatically — as combatants.

The idea that America can arbitrarily declare the war on terror over is as imperialistic as any I have heard, and it tells terrorists around the world, OK, we're going back to sleep now. It harkens back to a time when the prevailing attitude was that we were always in the right; therefore, we were entitled to impose our will on others. We — and only we — could decide when a war began and when it ended.

It was the same attitude — the concept of manifest destiny — that directed the westward expansion in the 19th century. America is entitled to seize what it wants.

American imperialism — as well as hubris — is what the terrorists really would like to see destroyed.