Thursday, July 31, 2003

Fool's Errand

President George W. Bush — no combat experience; tainted service in the Texas Air National Guard (AWOL, 1972-1973). Vice President Richard Cheney — No military experience. Deputy Secretary of Defense Paul Wolfowitz — No military experience. Senior Defense Policy Adviser Richard Perle — No military experience. Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld — naval aviator with no combat experience. Karl Rove — No military experience. These are the architects of the Iraq War and the killing of young people in Iraq now that major combat has ended. The deck of cards portraying the top 55 people responsible for placing fine young people in harm's way shows Karl Rove as the Ace of Spades. Why Karl Rove? Why, it's the 2004 election, stupid! George W. Bush — wartime president — will have a HUGE advantage over any Democrat. Cynical? Hell, yes. Karl Rove worked for Donald Segretti (the chief of dirty tricks in the second Nixon campaign in '72). Rove managed to paint Senator George McGovern (D-SD) as a peacenik pacifist who didn't have the guts to do the necessary job in Vietnam. The truth? Rove isn't fit to kiss George McGovern's feet, let alone a more fitting area of the McGovern anatomy for Rove to kiss. Senator George McGovern flew 35 combat missions as a B-24 bomber pilot in Europe during WWII, earning the Distinguished Flying Cross. Now, Bob Herbert — the conscience of the NYTimes — (exposed the hideous miscarriage of justice in Tulia, TX) calls a spade a spade. U.S. troops are being sacrificed for the Bush 2004 campaign. If this be treason, make the most of it.




[x NYTIMES]
July 31, 2003

Dying in Iraq

By BOB HERBERT

Those are good kids that we're sending into the shooting gallery called Iraq, and unless you have the conviction of a Bush or a Rumsfeld or a Bechtel or a Halliburton, you have to be nursing the sick feeling that each death is a tragic waste, and that this conflict is as much of a fool's errand as the war in Vietnam.

Despite the deceit and chronic dissembling of their political leaders in Washington, and the wretched conditions on the ground in Iraq, the young men and women are fighting bravely. So there was Gov. George Pataki earlier this week with the unhappy task of asking for a moment of silence in remembrance of Sgt. Heath McMillin, a 29-year-old National Guardsman from Clifton Springs in upstate New York.

Sergeant McMillin was killed on Sunday when his unit was attacked while on patrol south of Baghdad.

Over the weekend The New York Times had an article about the close-knit family of Cpl. Travis J. Bradach-Nall, a 21-year-old marine from Portland, Ore., who was killed on July 1 while clearing mines in south-central Iraq. The corporal loved tattoos, and his favorite movie was "Ghostbusters." The article was accompanied by a photo showing his brother and three cousins with memorial "Ghostbusters" tattoos.

Why are these kids dying?

The United States was attacked on Sept. 11, 2001. But instead of using all the means available to hunt down and destroy Osama bin Laden and Al Qaeda, the Bush administration became obsessed with the ouster of Saddam Hussein and the takeover of Iraq.

That is a very peculiar ordering of priorities.

The federal government issued public warnings this week after being alerted to potential new terror attacks against Americans by Al Qaeda, including the possibility of airline hijackings in the U.S. or overseas. President Bush said yesterday, "We're talking to foreign governments and foreign airlines to indicate to them the reality of the threat."

But even as the president was speaking, word was coming out that the Transportation Security Administration is trying to cut back its air marshals program to save money. The war in Iraq is costing scores of billions of dollars a month, and the president's tax cuts have grown so large they're casting shadows over generations to come. But we can't afford to fully fund a program to protect American airline passengers.

"When we are faced with more priorities than we have funding to support, we have to go through a process of trying to address the most urgent needs," said a spokesman for the security administration.

The credibility of the Bush administration is approaching meltdown. The White House won't level with the American people on the cost of the war, or the number of troops that are really needed, or the amount of taxpayer money that is being funneled to the politically connected corporations that have been given carte blanche for the reconstruction.

While the Bush crowd was happy to let the public believe that Saddam Hussein was somehow connected to the Sept. 11 attacks, it won't come clean about the real links between the Saudis and Al Qaeda. And you won't hear from the administration that the phantom weapons of mass destruction were never the real reason for the war, but merely the pretext. The real goals were to establish a military foothold in the region, remake the Middle East and capture control of Iraq's fabulous oil reserves.

Right now there is no viable plan for securing the peace in Iraq, and no exit strategy. There is no real plan for demolishing Al Qaeda and the genuine threat it poses to the security of all Americans. (Similarly, at home, there is no plan to get the economy moving and the millions of unemployed Americans back to work.)

Iraq is not Vietnam, where more than 58,000 Americans were killed. But it is like Vietnam in that deceptive leaders have maneuvered the country into a tragic situation that I do not believe Americans will support over time.

For the Bushes and the Rumsfelds, this is a grand imperial adventure, with press-conference posturing and wonderful photo-ops, like the president's "Top Gun" moment on the deck of the aircraft carrier Abraham Lincoln.

For the youngsters condemned to the shooting gallery, it's a fearful exercise in survival in a conflict that has never been adequately explained.

Copyright © 2003 The New York Times Company

Wednesday, July 30, 2003

Say It Ain't So, 'Biscuit!

If the revisionist take on Seabiscuit in the Wall Street Journal wasn't enough. I read somewhere that Charles Howard — the Biscuit's owner — fixed Seabiscuit's final race. What next? No Weapons of Mass Destruction? No Osama bin Laden? No Saddam Hussein? What is so important about the Saudi government that all information about them is classified in the interests of national security? What is a poor guy supposed to believe?



Was Seabiscuit the Hero of the 1930s? (posted 7-30-03)

Allen Barra, writing in the Wall Street Journal (July 30, 2003):

Adapted from Laura Hillenbrand's bestseller and with narration by historian David McCullough, the film version of "Seabiscuit" seems destined to become the official version of the rags-to-riches horse and his place in the history of the Depression. If you picked up a newspaper or magazine or switched on an entertainment program last weekend, you heard that Seabiscuit was "the most beloved athletic figure" or even "the most famous icon" in America in the late 1930s, surpassing (to cite just three names pulled out of last weekend's stories hooked to the film's release) Clark Gable, Lou Gehrig and Franklin D. Roosevelt in popularity.

There might be something to those comparisons. In 1938, Gable's biggest film, "Gone With the Wind," was a year from release. Gehrig had an off-season and was in fact a year from retirement. As for FDR, well, racehorses have no political or ideological opposition.

Seabiscuit certainly is, as the subtitle of Ms. Hillenbrand's book states, "An American Legend." But was he truly, as both movie and book seem to suggest, the real-life "Rocky" of the down-and-outers?

First, there's the question of his pedigree; given his ancestors, the case could be made that Seabiscuit was as much an underachiever as an underdog. His granddad was Man o' War, probably the greatest racehorse of all. His father, Hard Tack, broke numerous speed records (though his temperament was so difficult that he was quickly put out to stud). His mom was Swing On, who, though she was not much of a racehorse herself, was descended from the legendary Whisk Broom II. Though he was a misfit, Seabiscuit's bloodlines were more like FDR's than Tom Joad's.

Neither the movie (which glosses over the hardships and brutality of horse racing for both jockeys and mounts) nor, for that matter, Ms. Hillenbrand's book really comes to terms with the paradox of a Depression hero emerging from The Sport of Kings. (The film tosses a lump of sugar to the average man when Jeff Bridges as Charles Howard, Seabiscuit's owner, tells the track officials to "Open up the infield. You shouldn't have to be rich to enjoy this race.")

The film takes as a given Seabiscuit's affinity with the downtrodden, their affinity with Franklin Delano Roosevelt as their savior, and, hence, Seabiscuit's validity as a symbol of the New Deal. (In case we miss the connection, a black-and-white photo of FDR is flashed on screen shortly after one of Mr. Bridges's Roosevelt-style speeches.) The more interesting possibility that Charles Howard, a progressive Republican and a bit of a good-natured huckster, wasn't above using a populist twang to sell tickets is never explored.

It's a common fallacy for popular historians to confuse something that entertains people with something that actually touches their lives. Seabiscuit was certainly a hero during the Depression, but was he the hero of the Depression? Thumb through any number of books on the 1930s and on sports heroes from that decade, and you're likely to find much more on Jesse Owens and his spectacular victories at the 1936 Berlin Olympics than about any racehorse.

© The Wall Street Journal, 2003

Here's A Lottery Question For Admiral John Poindexter

My Wisconsin AP_Reading chum — Tom Robertson — sent along a link to playing cards for the 55 warhawks in the United States: Karl Rove all the way down to Bill O'Reilly. (Most of these guys never served in combat, let alone the armed forces.) Go to Warhawks. In the meantime, where the hell is Osama bin Laden?



[x New Yorker]

July 30, 2003

THE SEARCH FOR OSAMA

by JANE MAYER

Did the government let bin Laden’s trail go cold?

One day this past March, in Langley, Virginia, there was jubilation on a little-known thoroughfare called Bin Laden Lane. Analysts at the C.I.A.’s Counter-Terrorism Center, a dingy warren of gray metal desks marked by a custom-made street sign, were thrilled to learn that, seven thousand miles away, in Rawalpindi, Pakistan, colleagues from the agency had helped local authorities storm a private villa and capture Khalid Shaikh Mohammed, the man believed to be the third most important figure in the Al Qaeda terrorist organization.

At last, the stalled hunt for Al Qaeda fugitives had gained momentum. The authorities in Pakistan had obtained Mohammed’s laptop computer and satellite phone; this breakthrough, they hoped, would help them track down the organization’s leader, Osama bin Laden. Analysts in Washington speculated that news of Mohammed’s capture might even prompt bin Laden into fleeing his current hideout. According to an F.B.I. official, in the weeks before his arrest Mohammed had been moving from one place to another in Baluchistan, a lawless province that borders Afghanistan and Iran. Bin Laden, it was thought, was probably in the same area.

Days later, American intelligence satellites traced a telephone call made to Baluchistan by Saad bin Laden, one of Osama’s sons, who was thought to be hiding in Iran. Intelligence officials knew that bin Laden no longer dared to answer the phone, but they believed the call might have been placed to one of his aides.

An unmanned spy plane dispatched to the region spotted a suspicious convoy moving at night. It consisted of about a hundred people on horseback and on foot, and was advancing along an ancient smugglers’ route, in a rocky desert area. Bin Laden, the officials hoped, might be travelling with this group.

A team made up of C.I.A. paramilitary operatives, Delta Force soldiers, and Pakistani officials descended upon the convoy. Meanwhile, in Washington, the C.I.A. had orders to launch a Hellfire missile from an unmanned Predator intelligence aircraft if the presence of bin Laden could be confirmed. After the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, President Bush signed a top-secret Memorandum of Notification, calling for bin Laden to be either captured or killed on sight.

“The C.I.A. was very confident—they thought they had him there in Baluchistan, across from the Iranian border,” Vincent Cannistraro, a former chief of operations for the C.I.A.’s Counter-Terrorism Center, said. “They had a fixed location on him. They mounted a moderate-sized operation.” The convoy was intercepted, Cannistraro said. Each traveller was examined. “Lo and behold, bin Laden wasn’t there,” he said. The convoy was merely a group of refugees.

Instead of firing a Hellfire missile, American aircraft dropped flyers that featured an image of bin Laden’s face behind bars. The flyers also publicized a twenty-five-million-dollar reward that would be given to anyone who could hand bin Laden over to the authorities.

Iranian officials issued a statement denying that bin Laden’s son was in their country. (Iran has maintained this position, despite numerous reports to the contrary.) American officials declined to acknowledge the incident at all.

Soon after this episode, I visited the office of Cofer Black, a veteran of the C.I.A. whom President Bush appointed last year to be the State Department’s coördinator for counter-terrorism. If Black was disappointed about the failure to find bin Laden, he did not betray it. He leaned forward across the coffee table separating us and said emphatically, “The guy’s a goner. The only question is whether he’ll be arrested in cuffs or taken dead. He deserves to die.”

If bin Laden was killed, Black continued, the world would demand proof. “You’d need some DNA,” he said. “There’s a good way to do it. Take a machete, and whack off his head, and you’ll get a bucketful of DNA, so you can see it and test it. It beats lugging the whole body back!”

Tough talk and aggressive military action have been hallmarks of the Bush Administration’s war on terrorism. In the wake of the attacks on New York and Washington, President Bush made it clear that he was targeting bin Laden; in one speech, he declared that the terrorist was “wanted, dead or alive.” In another speech, Bush said, “If he thinks he can hide and run from the United States and our allies, he will be sorely mistaken.” However, as months went by without a successful capture—“point” targets, as individuals are called by military tacticians, are notoriously elusive—Bush rarely mentioned bin Laden’s name in public. The Administration’s attention shifted to building support for the war in Iraq, and Saddam Hussein seemed to replace bin Laden in the role of the world’s most notorious “evildoer.” Indeed, Bush’s reticence on the subject of bin Laden grew so conspicuous that critics, such as the Democratic Presidential candidate Bob Graham, began referring to the terrorist as “Osama bin Forgotten.”

In June, at a joint press conference at Camp David with President Pervez Musharraf of Pakistan, the President was forced to address the bin Laden question. A reporter asked where bin Laden might be, and Bush’s response was muted and cautious. “If Osama bin Laden is alive . . . slowly but surely we’re dismantling the networks, and we’ll continue on the hunt,” he said. He added that locating bin Laden “could take years.”

Al Qaeda is clearly good at finding hiding places. The Times recently reported that, after a shoot-out in the mountains of Afghanistan in January, American soldiers were amazed to find a kitchen big enough to feed forty people, complete with a cow, several donkeys, and a larder, hidden behind a false wall in a cave. Searching bin Laden’s cave network in Tora Bora, in the White Mountains, analysts have found artillery, tank parts, and computers.

The working theory of the C.I.A., and also of foreign intelligence services, is that bin Laden is most likely hiding somewhere along the fifteen-hundred-mile border between Afghanistan and Pakistan. “If he is protected by a big group, I think bin Laden is on the Afghan side of the border,” Musharraf told Le Monde in July. “If his group has less than ten people, he could be on the Pakistan side.” Some people familiar with the region claim that bin Laden’s whereabouts can be narrowed even further. Mansoor Ijaz is an American financier with family members in Pakistan who are connected with intelligence circles there. A New York-based investment company he owns, Crescent Investment Management, has ties to the international intelligence community through James Woolsey, a former director of the C.I.A., who serves on the company’s board. Ijaz recently returned from a trip to Pakistan. In an interview, he contended that bin Laden was “very much alive, and hiding in the tribal areas”—that is, in the borderlands dominated by ethnic Pashtuns. Ijaz said that, during his trip, he spoke with top intelligence figures in the region. “Bin Laden is travelling around within about a hundred-and-fifty-mile diameter,” he said. “He’s essentially being babysat by tribal leaders who have an arm’s-length relationship with the Pakistani government. The tribal leaders have said he can’t move except at night, and he can’t communicate by phone, radio, or walkie-talkie. He knows it is too dangerous. They have constructed a perfect spider’s web of communication.” Ijaz said he had been told that bin Laden communicated via “handwritten notes” transmitted by “a human chain-link fence,” because word of mouth had proved unreliable. “Some of his messages were not being correctly communicated,” he said.

Ijaz said he’d been told that bin Laden was surrounded by concentric circles of security: an outer ring of loyal villagers, a second ring of tribal leaders, and an inner ring of personal aides and bodyguards. “Since he’s surrounded by devout followers, there’s virtually no chance of the U.S. being able to pinpoint him,” he said.

Rahimullah Yusufzai, a journalist in Peshawar who is known for his interviews with bin Laden, and who has maintained access to Al Qaeda sympathizers, also told me that bin Laden was likely hiding in western Pakistan. He said that bin Laden’s bodyguards, who are assumed to include as many as five of his sons, have vowed to “martyr” their father rather than allow him to be taken alive.

Although bin Laden is believed to have had hundreds of soldiers with him when he escaped to the tribal areas after the American bombardment of Afghanistan, most experts think that he is now nearly alone. He is said, however, to keep in touch with his inner circle. This spring, the Washington Post reported that bin Laden had been spotted in the tribal areas with his closest co-conspirator, Ayman Zawahiri. (Rumors that Zawahiri has been captured by authorities in Iran have been discounted by U.S. officials.) Dominic Simpson, the head of the Middle East division of Kroll, a New York-based security firm, told me that a reliable source had shared details about a recent meeting inside Pakistan which was attended by Mullah Mohammed Omar, the fugitive leader of the Taliban. Simpson said that during the meeting Omar confided, “Yes, I am with Osama. We’re travelling together in Pakistan.”



Such shreds of information, of course, are no more than informed conjecture. Bin Laden has not been seen publicly since December 26, 2001, when he appeared in a videotape that was released to celebrate the three-month anniversary of what he called “the blessed attack.” Instead of seeming joyous, the forty-six-year-old terrorist looked sickly and aged. After a month passed by without another videotape, some experts began thinking that bin Laden was dead. Then came a stream of audio recordings, faxes, Internet postings, and other communications, all asserting, or implying, that bin Laden was alive.

Last spring, bin Laden reportedly sent a handwritten letter to his mother that said, “I am in good health and in a very, very safe place. They will not get me unless Allah wills it.” Another letter apparently from bin Laden, written in longhand approximately six months ago, was found on the body of a suspected Al Qaeda operative who was killed by Saudi police in May. According to Al Watan, an Arabic daily, the letter offered season’s greetings on the occasion of Eid al-Fitr, a major Muslim holiday, and noted the “achievements of the Al Qaeda cells.” (A bloodstain obliterated the name of the letter’s recipient.)

“He’s sending tapes and messages to his followers all the time, with instructions that could not have come from anyone else,” Yossef Bodansky, the director of the Congressional Task Force on Terrorism and Unconventional Warfare, told me recently. “They’re things like condolences to families of Islamic luminaries who have died,” he said. “People from the Philippines to Indonesia to South America ask bin Laden questions, and they get answers from him.” Bodansky was struck by the meditative tone of the letters. “They are written with a tremendous amount of peace of mind. There are no mistakes. He is not a guy on the run.”

Terrorism experts have pored over several audiotaped messages purporting to have come from bin Laden since September 11th. Analysis of voice patterns and syntax suggests that these messages are authentic. Specialists have tried to explain why bin Laden stopped videotaping himself. “He seemed possibly injured on his left side in the last videotape,” Matthew Levitt, a former F.B.I. anti-terrorism specialist, told me. Others have noted that, although bin Laden is left-handed, in his last video he perched his Kalashnikov rifle next to his right side. He also failed to gesticulate as much as he usually did when he spoke. In the past, when bin Laden was ill he avoided being photographed, evidently careful never to project a weakened image.

Even if bin Laden is impaired, to many experts, he still appears to be playing a direct role in coördinating Al Qaeda’s campaign of terrorism. In February, three months before the wave of bombings in Morocco, Saudi Arabia, and Pakistan, a tape was released on which a voice thought to be bin Laden’s ordered “martyrdom operations” on all three targets. Similarly, last October bin Laden released a tape calling on infidels to convert or face dire consequences. Two senior Al Qaeda operatives captured by authorities, Abu Zubaydah and Ramzi bin al-Shibh, warned American interrogators that the wording was definitely bin Laden’s, and that his last-minute call for conversion was an attempt to fashion himself in the image of Muhammad. The prisoners interpreted these signs as an attempt to rationalize an imminent act of violence. Within days, more than two hundred people had been murdered in Kuwait and Bali.



Indeed, the most difficult problem for American officials who are trying to find bin Laden may be determining who his helpers are and how they fit into Pakistan’s power structure. “The reason bin Laden is so hard to get is that people are helping him,” Cofer Black told me. The search has been stymied not so much by tactical or logistical hurdles as by political ones. The tribal regions of Pakistan are impoverished and increasingly fundamentalist, and there is ambivalence within Musharraf’s government about how vigorously to press in the fight against Muslim jihadis. Although Musharraf has been an outspoken ally of the United States, the aggressive pursuit of bin Laden poses political risks for him, since it is sure to incite his regime’s fundamentalist opponents. Some skeptics argue that the capture of bin Laden may not be in Musharraf’s interest for other reasons as well. As long as bin Laden and other top figures in Al Qaeda are believed to be on the lam in Pakistan, they say, Musharraf can be assured of receiving favorable treatment from the United States in exchange for his coöperation. Since September 11th, Pakistan has been rescued from the verge of bankruptcy. The United States lifted economic sanctions that were imposed in 1998, after Pakistan began testing nuclear weapons, and it restored foreign aid, last month promising a five-year package of three billion dollars in return for Pakistan’s continued help in the fight against terrorism. “Essentially, Musharraf was very lucky this happened in his neighborhood,” Yusufzai told me.

The official position of the Bush Administration is that Musharraf’s government is working as hard as it can to rout out terrorists in Pakistan. “The Pakistani government under Musharraf is a strong and key player in the global war on terrorism, and their contribution has been second to none,” Cofer Black told me. More than twenty-five Pakistani security officers have been killed helping the United States capture an estimated four hundred and eighty Al Qaeda members and sympathizers. (Globally, a third of the Al Qaeda leadership is thought to have been captured or killed.) “When there have been arrests of terrorists to be made, the Pakistanis have been the first ones through the door,” Milton Bearden, a former C.I.A. field officer, said.

Nevertheless, the United States and Pakistan have never completely agreed on which militant Muslim groups qualify as terrorist organizations. In particular, rounding up members of the Taliban has been a sticking point for Pakistan’s intelligence service, the Inter-Services Intelligence Directorate, or I.S.I. According to Jessica Stern, a lecturer in public policy at Harvard’s Kennedy School, the I.S.I. is like “an unreconstructed K.G.B.” The Taliban was virtually created by the I.S.I., which wanted to insure that a friendly government took over in Afghanistan after the Soviet war. “If you think about how Pakistan views Afghanistan, then it’s no surprise that it supported the Taliban,” Roger Cressey, a former director for Trans-National Threats on the National Security Council, told me. “The Taliban provided strategic depth to Pakistan in the Indo-Pakistan political game. Without Pakistani support, the Taliban would have been a bunch of frustrated students of the Koran sitting in coffeehouses.”

Officially, the Musharraf government severed ties with the Taliban two years ago, after the Bush Administration made clear that any country harboring terrorists would be viewed as a legitimate target. But the question of conflicting loyalties persists. After September 11th, the United States pressured Pakistan to dismiss the head of the I.S.I., Lieutenant General Mahmood Ahmed, who was seen as being too close to the Taliban. (He was fired, but has since resurfaced in Pakistan as the head of a subsidiary of a prominent business consortium, a position that required government backing.) According to terrorism experts, lower-level I.S.I. officials remain sympathetic to the Taliban, particularly in the predominantly Pashtun tribal regions where many of the Taliban and Al Qaeda fighters are thought to have fled.

Fundamentalists have been gaining power throughout western Pakistan in recent years. Last October, voters in the North-West Frontier Province, a Pashtun region, chose to be governed by a coalition of six fundamentalist religious parties known as the Muttahida Majlis-i-Amal, or M.M.A., which constitutes the main political opposition to Musharraf. Last month, the province adopted the orthodox code of Islamic law, Sharia, banning everything from coeducation and television to the wearing of white socks and noisy shoes by women. (These sartorial options were deemed too titillating.) In the province, a top Pakistani diplomat admitted to me, “The Taliban are local heroes.”

An American official who attended recent private meetings between American policymakers and leaders of the I.S.I. told me that the Pakistani officials tried to draw clear distinctions between the Taliban and Al Qaeda. But the two groups are historically intertwined. Between 1996 and 2001, bin Laden personally subsidized the Taliban, as he is now suspected of subsidizing Pakistan’s tribal chiefs. The Taliban’s leader, Mullah Omar, is married to one of bin Laden’s daughters.

“If you’re harboring one lot, it’s hard to go after the others,” Ahmed Rashid, the author of a best-selling book on the Taliban and a prominent Pakistani journalist, told me. “There’s lots of sympathy for the Taliban even among the military forces and intelligence agencies.” Rashid said he doubted that there was similar sympathy for Al Qaeda, but he added, “People tend to forget that Al Qaeda has been working in Pakistan for the last two decades, most emphatically since 1996. There was an enormous network here of supporters and safe houses before 9/11.”



Shaheen Sehbai is a Pakistani journalist who, until last year, edited the News, the largest English-language newspaper in Pakistan. I asked him about efforts by I.S.I. officials to find bin Laden. “I question how hard they’re trying,” he said. “I think they’re not looking very hard, because he’ll always remain a bargaining chip.” Sehbai attended college in Peshawar, the capital of the North-West Frontier Province. He speaks Pashto, the local dialect, and said, “I know that area like the back of my hand.” He rejects the prevailing argument in Islamabad that the Musharraf government cannot do more because the region is beyond the reach of its laws. “Every tribal chief is in the pocket of the government in Pakistan,” he said. “The tribal areas are divided into agencies, and each has an administrator, who is part of the Pakistani civil service.” Tribal leaders rarely defy these federal administrators, he said. He has seen suspected murderers and high-profile kidnappers flee into the tribal areas, only to be turned over by the chiefs to local authorities within days. “There would be more resistance in bin Laden’s case, because of ideological sympathy,” Sehbai acknowledged. “But if the government seriously wanted him they’d know where he is, and under whose protection. In the past, the Army has laid siege to villages and burned them to the ground. I’ve heard of no such operations with bin Laden.”

In America, too, the vigor of Pakistan’s efforts has come into doubt. “Bin Laden is their Get Out of Jail Free card,” Yossef Bodansky said. “Every time we complain about the heroin production, they say, ‘Look, we’re helping you with bin Laden,’ and we backpedal. When we complain about Pakistan sponsoring terrorism in Kashmir, they invoke bin Laden, and we backpedal. ‘We’re on your side,’ they say. But I think there’s strong evidence that Pakistan is shielding him.” Bodansky also charged that the Pakistanis have produced major Al Qaeda members only when it served their own political purposes.

Asad Hayauddin, a spokesman at the Pakistani Embassy in Washington, dismissed Bodansky’s views. “There are always going to be doubting Thomases,” he said. “The F.B.I. has been after the Mafia for eighty years—does that mean they’re on the take?” Of the difficulties involved in finding bin Laden, Hayauddin said, “It’s not a question of will—it’s a question of terrain.”

Unsurprisingly, no one is more cynical about the Pakistanis than the Indians. Their intelligence service has devoted considerable energy to discovering links between Al Qaeda and Pakistani extremist groups that oppose India’s presence in Kashmir. (Bin Laden has championed the cause of Kashmiri independence.) Many of the Pakistani groups, the Indians say, have received covert support from the country’s military and intelligence apparatus. An Indian intelligence official emphasized that Abu Zubaydah, a Saudi-born Palestinian who had assumed one of the highest posts in Al Qaeda’s chain of command, was found in the northeast city of Faisalabad, in a villa owned by a Pakistani jihadi organization called Lashkar-e-Taiba. In addition, Khalid Shaikh Mohammed, whose family is from Baluchistan, was found in March living with a member of the Jamaat-e-Islami Party—part of the militant coalition that Musharraf lost ground to in the last election. The safe house was in Rawalpindi, a well-heeled town outside Islamabad that is home to much of Pakistan’s military. Indeed, the villa is a quick walk from Musharraf’s own house, and its back yard faces a military training ground.



Pakistan has barred the United States from playing more than a token military role in the country. Robert Oakley, a former Ambassador to Pakistan, told me that the Pakistanis have countenanced a few American military advisers, and accepted intelligence help from the F.B.I. and the C.I.A. Pakistan also allows the United States to conduct overflights and provide logistical help. Small teams of special-ops forces have occasionally offered assistance. But Oakley said that Pakistan has resisted offers to send troops. After September 11th, he told me, “the U.S. military said, ‘Maybe we can help?’ But Pakistan said, ‘No, you’ll get us all killed!’”

Asad Hayauddin confirmed that a United States military presence in the tribal areas “would be very unwelcome. There is great resistance to the idea of foreign occupation of any sort.” He added, “You have to deal with this area politically, not militarily. That’s why the U.S. is having such problems. They don’t have an anthropological approach to world problems. If you take an armored personnel carrier, or a helicopter gunship, you kill innocent people. Then you’ve lost that village for a hundred years. These places run on revenge.”

The Pakistani government has tried to advance this argument in Washington, encouraging a less confrontational strategy in the tribal regions. In December, 2001, according to several knowledgeable sources, Musharraf met with Wendy Chamberlin, then the American Ambassador to Pakistan, and asked for American support in helping him extend his control over the tribal areas. He argued that, unless the borders were cauterized there, the flow of fighters from Afghanistan would be impossible to stop. Musharraf told Chamberlin that the local Pashtun people could be bought off with basic government services that their tribal leaders had never provided—such as schools, clinics, roads, and water. Large cash awards could be offered to locals who helped track down fugitive Arabs.

“How much do you need?” Chamberlin asked. Musharraf’s answer was forty million dollars.

Chamberlin told Musharraf that she would back his plan. But when her funding request reached Congress, it was derailed. Charlie Flickner, the powerful Republican clerk of the foreign-operations subcommittee of the House Appropriations Committee, felt that the expenditure was a waste of money. He had travelled to western Pakistan, and concluded that the tribal areas were essentially sinkholes. On his recommendation, Chamberlin’s proposal was rejected. Instead, the committee agreed to give fourteen million dollars to the tribal areas, in the form of law-enforcement assistance to the local constabularies.

“It’s not something you throw money at,” Flickner told me. “It’s the typical thing that the bureaucrats in Islamabad think of. I don’t think everything in the world is susceptible to American money.” Members of the Democratic minority on the committee refused to respond to questions on the record. One Democrat, however, told me, “We blew it. There was a window of opportunity, but we lost it by not funding them adequately.” Soon after Chamberlin’s proposal was dismissed, the North-West Frontier Province fell into the hands of Musharraf’s Islamist opponents; in the tribal areas, fundamentalists further expanded their influence.

Musharraf, during his visit to America last month, stressed that, for the first time since the nation’s founding, in 1947, Pakistan has begun deploying thousands of soldiers in the tribal areas. The United States recently donated five Huey-2 helicopters and three fixed-wing Cessna surveillance aircraft to help the Pakistani government monitor the province—officially, to further efforts to control poppy production there. Ahmed Rashid isn’t impressed. He has been to the border region in recent weeks, and was struck by the weakness of the Pakistani military effort. “The troops are just sitting there at the border—they’re not doing sweeps,” he said, adding that the security situation in the borderlands was getting worse. “The Taliban’s really reasserted itself. Hundreds of Taliban fighters have been crossing the borders and attacking American troops. Al Qaeda commanders are helping the Taliban in the background, supplying funds and logistical support. Al Qaeda’s also providing reward money for captured or killed American soldiers.” The sums offered, he said, ranged up to a hundred thousand dollars. “All the Americans are complaining about the lack of support from the Pakistani military,” Rashid said. “The soldiers on the ground think the Pakistanis are allowing the Taliban to operate.”



To the frustration of many of the people involved in the fight against Al Qaeda, the Bush Administration is said to have been distracted by competing priorities—most notably, the war in Iraq. Rohan Gunaratna, a Sri Lankan terrorism expert who has analyzed thousands of Al Qaeda documents recovered by various governments, said, “I feel that if they had not gone to Iraq they would have found Osama by now. The best people were moved away from this operation. The best minds were moved to Iraq. It’s a great shame. It’s the biggest military failure in the war on terrorism so far. The Americans need more resources, and more high-level people exclusively assigned to this task.”

Supporters of the Iraq war suggest that this view overlooks longer-term benefits that have yet to be fully appreciated. Ambassador Oakley, for example, said, “I think the war in Iraq has made governments much more cautious about allowing terrorists into their countries—Iran and Syria, for instance—because they can see the consequences to themselves from the U.S.”

Many intelligence insiders, however, shared Gunaratna’s concerns. Cannistraro, the former C.I.A. official, said that the effort to find bin Laden had “lost at least half of its original strength.” He added, “Arabic speakers are in short supply. You still have some intelligence-collection assets in Afghanistan, but mostly it’s just small teams looking for signals. That’s because of Iraq.”

Rand Beers, who until March handled terrorism issues for the National Security Council, told me he had become so concerned about the impact that the war in Iraq was having on the war on terrorism that he quit his job—at the height of the American invasion. Beers, who served on the N.S.C. under Ronald Reagan and both Presidents Bush, is now an adviser for the Presidential campaign of the Democratic Senator John Kerry. He told me, “I have worried for some time that it became politically inconvenient” for the Bush Administration to “complete operations sufficiently in Afghanistan.”

Last February, he said, on the eve of the bombing of Baghdad, the Bush Administration peremptorily drafted an announcement declaring that in Afghanistan the military was moving to “stability operations,” a euphemism for military deescalation. “They wanted to make it sound as if there were just a few more stitches needed in the quilt,” he said. At the time, in fact, Beers believed that the security situation in Afghanistan was so unstable that Al Qaeda might reconstitute itself there. For instance, a recent U.N. report found that the average number of attacks per month on coalition forces rose from around nine last year to more than thirty since the beginning of 2003.

The Administration, Beers said, ignored such concerns. “They didn’t want to call attention to the fact that Osama was still at large and living along the Pakistan-Afghanistan border, because they wanted it to look like the only front was Iraq,” he said. “Otherwise, the question becomes: If Afghanistan is that bad, why start another war?”



Richard Clarke, the country’s first counter-terrorism czar, told me in an interview at his home in Arlington, Virginia, that he wasn’t particularly surprised that the Bush Administration’s efforts to find bin Laden had been stymied by political problems. He had seen such efforts fail before. Clarke, who retired from public service in February and is now a private consultant on security matters, has served every President since Ronald Reagan. He has won a reputation as a tireless advocate for action against Al Qaeda. Clarke emphasized that the C.I.A. director, George Tenet, President Bush, and, before him, President Clinton were all deeply committed to stopping bin Laden; nonetheless, Clarke said, their best efforts had been doomed by bureaucratic clashes, caution, and incessant problems with Pakistan.

In the course of several hours, Clarke revealed details of previous intelligence failures that had allowed bin Laden to escape, many of which the Bush Administration continues to classify as top secret. These details were withheld from the Congressional Report on September 11th; according to an official familiar with the report, they were censored from the section “Covert Action and Military Operations Against Bin Laden.”

Clarke told me that in the mid-nineties “the C.I.A. was authorized to mount operations to go into Afghanistan and apprehend bin Laden.” President Clinton, Clarke said, “was really gung-ho” about the scenario. “He had no hesitations,” he said. “But the C.I.A. had hesitations. They didn’t want their own people killed. And they didn’t want their shortcomings exposed. They really didn’t have the paramilitary capability to do it; they could not stage a snatch operation.” Instead of trying to mount the operation themselves, Clarke said, “the C.I.A. basically paid a bunch of local Afghans, who went in and did nothing.”

In 1998, Al Qaeda struck the American embassies in Kenya and Tanzania, killing more than two hundred people. In retaliation, Clinton signed a secret Presidential finding authorizing the C.I.A. to kill bin Laden. It was the first directive of this kind that Clarke had seen during his thirty years in government. Soon afterward, he told me, C.I.A. officials went to the White House and said they had “specific, predictive, actionable” intelligence that bin Laden would soon be attending a particular meeting, in a particular place. “It was a rare occurrence,” Clarke said. Clinton authorized a lethal attack. The target date, however—August 20, 1998—nearly coincided with Clinton’s deposition about his affair with Monica Lewinsky. Clarke said that he and other top national-security officials at the White House went to see Clinton to warn him that he would likely be accused of “wagging the dog” in order to distract the public from his political embarrassment. Clinton was enraged. “Don’t you fucking tell me about my political problems, or my personal problems,” Clinton said, according to Clarke. “You tell me about national security. Is it the right thing to do?” Clarke thought it was. “Then fucking do it,” Clinton told him.

The attacks, which cost seventy-nine million dollars and involved some sixty satellite-guided Tomahawk cruise missiles, obliterated two targets—a terrorist training camp outside Khost, in Afghanistan, and a pharmaceutical plant thought to be manufacturing chemical weapons in Khartoum, Sudan—and were notorious failures. “The best post-facto intelligence we had was that bin Laden had left the training camp within an hour of the attack,” Clarke said. What went wrong? “I have reason to believe that a retired head of the I.S.I. was able to pass information along to Al Qaeda that an attack was coming,” he said.

Clarke also blames the military for enabling the Pakistanis to compromise the mission. “The Pentagon did what we asked them not to,” he said. “We asked them not to use surface ships. We asked them to use subs, so they wouldn’t signal the attack. But not only did they use surface ships—they brought additional ones in, because every captain wants to be able to say he fired the cruise missile.”

Asad Hayauddin denies that anyone in Pakistan even had enough knowledge to compromise the mission: “The U.S. didn’t tell us about it until forty-five minutes before the missiles hit.”

After the 1998 fiasco, Clinton secretly approved additional Presidential findings, authorizing the killing not just of bin Laden but also of several of his top lieutenants, and permitting any private planes or helicopters carrying them to be shot down. These directives led to nothing. “The C.I.A. was unable to carry out the mission,” Clarke said. “They hired local Afghans to do it for them again.” The agency also tried to train and equip a Pakistani commando force and some Uzbeks, too. “The point is, they were risk-averse,” he said. Tenet was “eager to kill bin Laden,” Clarke said. “He understood the threat. But the capability of the C.I.A.’s Directorate of Operations was far less than advertised. The Directorate of Operations would like people to think it’s a great James Bond operation, but for years it essentially assigned officers undercover as diplomats to attend cocktail parties. They collected information. But they were not a commando unit that could go into Afghanistan and kill bin Laden.”

“That’s bullshit,” a senior intelligence official said. “Risk-taking depends on political will allowing you to take the risk. It wasn’t until after September 11th that people wanted the gloves to come off.”

But Clarke said that in October, 2000, when the U.S.S. Cole was bombed, off the coast of Yemen, Clinton demanded better military options. The Department of Defense prepared a plan for a United States military operation so big that it was dismissed as politically untenable; meanwhile, General Hugh Shelton, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, concluded that, without better intelligence, a smaller-scale attack would be too risky. (Indeed, according to the Congressional Report on September 11th, Shelton said, “You can develop military operations until hell freezes over, but they are worthless without intelligence.”) The Navy tried stationing two submarines in the Indian Ocean, in the hope of being able to shoot missiles at bin Laden, but the time lag between the sighting of the target and the arrival of the missiles made it virtually impossible to pinpoint him accurately.

The first promise of an intelligence breakthrough came in the fall of 2000, when Clarke, and a few allies in the C.I.A. and the military, recognized the potential of the Predator, a nine-hundred-and-fifty-pound unmanned propeller plane being tested by General Johnny Jumper, the Air Force’s head of air combat at the time. It could supply live video surveillance—day or night, and through cloud cover. Clarke said that the plane, which was tested in Afghanistan, supplied “spectacular” pictures of suspected Al Qaeda terrorists, including one of a tall, white-robed man who closely resembled bin Laden and was surrounded by security guards as he crossed a city street to a mosque. At the C.I.A.’s Global Response Center, analysts who were used to receiving fuzzy satellite photographs and thirdhand reports were now able to watch as live video feeds captured the daily routines inside Al Qaeda training camps. They watched as men did physical exercises, fired their weapons, and practiced hand-to-hand combat. Two or three times that fall, intelligence analysts thought they might have spotted bin Laden himself. The man in question was unusually tall, like bin Laden, and drove the same model of truck that bin Laden preferred, the Toyota Land Cruiser. (The images weren’t clear enough, however, to allow analysts to discern facial features.) The C.I.A. rushed the surveillance tapes over to the White House, where the President, like everyone else, was stunned by their clarity. Later that fall, however, fierce winds in the Hindu Kush caused the Predator to crash. The accident led to recriminations inside the C.I.A. and the Air Force and quarrels about which part of the bureaucracy should pay for the damage.

By early 2001, Clarke and a handful of counter-terrorism specialists at the C.I.A. had learned of an Air Force plan to arm the Predator. The original plan called for three years of tests. Clarke and the others pushed so hard that the plane was ready in three months. In tests, the craft worked surprisingly well. In the summer of 2001, an armed Predator destroyed a model of bin Laden’s house which had been built in the Nevada desert. But Clarke said, “Every time we were ready to use it, the C.I.A. would change its mind. The real motivation within the C.I.A., I think, is that some senior people below Tenet were saying, ‘It’s fine to kill bin Laden, but we want to do it in a way that leaves no fingerprints. Otherwise, C.I.A. agents all over the world will be subject to assassination themselves.’ They also worried that something would go wrong—they’d blow up a convent and get blamed.”

On September 4, 2001, all sides agree, the issue reached a head, at a meeting of the Principal’s Committee of Bush’s national-security advisers, a Cabinet-level group that includes the Secretary of State, the Secretary of Defense, the director of the C.I.A., the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the Attorney General, and the national-security adviser. Deputy Defense Secretary Paul Wolfowitz also attended that day. As Clarke, who was there, recalled, “Tenet said he opposed using the armed Predator, because it wasn’t the C.I.A.’s job to fly airplanes that shot missiles. The Air Force said it wasn’t their job to fly planes to collect intelligence. No one around the table seemed to have a can-do attitude. Everyone seemed to have an excuse.”

“There was a discussion,” the senior intelligence official confirmed. “The C.I.A. said, ‘Who’s got more experience flying aircraft that shoot missiles?’ But the Air Force liked planes with pilots.”

In looking back at the deadlock, Roger Cressey, Clarke’s deputy for counter-terrorism at the N.S.C., told me, “It sounds terrible, but we used to say to each other that some people didn’t get it—it was going to take body bags.”

A week later, in the worst terrorist attacks in history, which were carried out at bin Laden’s direction, nearly three thousand Americans were killed. In November, Clarke said, the United States finally deployed the armed Predator to help destroy what video surveillance showed to be a high-level Al Qaeda meeting outside Kabul. In many respects, the trial run was a brilliant success. The strike killed Al Qaeda’s military chief, Mohammad Atef, who left behind valuable documents. But evidently bin Laden was spared. A few weeks later, his voice was reportedly detected by agents on a satellite telephone near the Tora Bora cave complex. American B-52 bombers pounded the area. Afterward, Secretary of State Colin Powell declared, “We’ve destroyed Al Qaeda in Afghanistan.” But, once again, bin Laden evidently escaped.

One problem, Clarke suggested, was that the United States had waited too long before starting to bomb, and again had relied too heavily on “Afghans it had rented.” In any event, Tora Bora was the last place that bin Laden was definitively detected alive by the United States. The best estimates are that he either walked, rode a donkey, or took a bus across the border into Pakistan, sometime in the third week of December, 2001.



It has been nearly two years since the attacks on New York and Washington, and there is now a growing debate in academic circles about how crucial a target bin Laden remains—given that, if he is indeed still alive, he has been driven almost completely underground. According to Jessica Stern, of Harvard, Al Qaeda is “still the most significant threat to U.S. national security today.” But she told me that, because the organization has been decentralized by the relentless hunt for its leaders, capturing bin Laden “almost doesn’t matter.”

Gilles Kepel, a well-known French scholar of Islam, suggested that, without media exposure, bin Laden was “fading.” He added, “Terrorism requires the media, but he’s become invisible. It becomes less and less important to kill him, except as a trophy.”

Those involved in the day-to-day battle against terrorism, however, are not convinced that bin Laden has become insignificant. They note that an alleged Al Qaeda spokesman warned recently of plans for another attack the size of September 11th. The triple bombings in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, on May 12th, which killed thirty-four and wounded more than two hundred, have now been traced to Al Qaeda, and intelligence agencies in Europe and Africa, as well as in the United States, have detected increased recruitment by Al Qaeda in response to the war in Iraq. A recent U.N. report asserted that Al Qaeda and the Taliban have regrouped in Afghanistan and the tribal areas of Pakistan, and are showing “new boldness” in their attacks on international aid workers and coalition troops.

“Anyone who says that, at this point, getting bin Laden doesn’t matter is, purposefully or not, providing a completely self-serving judgment,” Rand Beers said. “It’s not true. There would be a huge favorable political fallout to finding him. It would reverberate all over the Islamic world. Maybe someday it will matter less, but right now it’s a continuing, nagging question, and a huge political embarrassment.”

© The New Yorker, 2003







Del Mar College Has My Highest Admiration

Del Mar College is a first-rate two-year college. I admire and respect Dr. Ken Weatherbie — a gifted teacher of U.S. history — and I have visited the Del Mar campus on several occasions in the mid-1990s. Everything I saw looked first-rate. Now, the faculty has stepped up and voted no confidence in a new president. Unfortuantely, I do not teach at a first-rate two-year college. We have endured some of the worst scoundrels in the history of higher education in the past 30+ years without a whimper. Oh, how I long for colleagues with the courage of the folks at Del Mar College. Even more, since I have witnessed the parade of candidates for the presidency of Amarillo College this month. The last of the finalists — the Chancellor of Central Arkansas Community College with a total enrollment less than our own — will meet with the faculty and staff in a Q&A session tomorrow. Bring In The Clowns.



[x CHE]

Wednesday, July 30, 2003


President of Texas Community College Resigns

By JAMILAH EVELYN

The president of Del Mar College, a two-year institution in Corpus Christi, Tex., resigned Monday after just a year and a half on the job.

Gustavo R. Valadez Ortiz stepped down at a meeting of the Board of Regents. According to the Corpus Christi Caller-Times, both Mr. Valadez and Olga Gonzales, the board's president, said that racism was a factor in the dispute that prompted the resignation.

Neither Mr. Valadez, the college's first Hispanic president, nor Ms. Gonzales returned telephone calls seeking comment. Chris N. Adler, the board's secretary, would say only that the regents had given Mr. Valadez a performance review in April and that both sides had then agreed he should step down.

"We are bound by the terms of the settlement agreement not to make any disparaging comments about the other party, so I don't think there's anything I can say," she said Tuesday.

Mr. Valadez received a lump-sum severance payment of $190,000.

The college's Faculty Council and a committee of department heads this month voted no confidence in Mr. Valadez, citing a lack of leadership and problems with shared governance. Ms. Adler said that while "the process was already in place before the no-confidence votes," they did influence the board.

Laura B. Parr, chairwoman of the Faculty Council, said she did not understand the rationale behind the vote, in which 14 of the council's 18 members expressed no confidence. Ms. Parr abstained, largely because many faculty members were not on the campus, and she thought the vote was too important to take in their absence.

"I also happened to think the president was doing a good job," she said. She praised Mr. Valadez for coming up with a plan to make sure no one got fired, despite the state's troubled fiscal situation, and she said his governance style was inclusive.

But some people at the 25,000-student college questioned Mr. Valadez's appointees to top administrative posts, arguing that they had been hired because they were Hispanic, said Ms. Parr. Mr. Valadez also angered some faculty members last fall, when he asked them to consider an academic reorganization, never carried out, and when he increased some class sizes to deal with budgetary constraints.

"We have a lot of faculty who have been here for a long time and are very resistant to change," said Ms. Parr.

The board on Tuesday appointed José Luis Alaniz, vice president for business and finance, as acting president.



Copyright © 2003 by The Chronicle of Higher Education

A Little Humor, Please.

Israeli police are looking for a man named Joseph, wanted for looting in the port city of Haifa. The suspect is described as the son of an ex-nun from Barcelona and a German father. He was a former flutist and worked occasionally as a farmer.

In short, he was a Haifa-lootin, flutin Teuton, son of a nun from Barcelona, part time plowboy Joe.

-Submitted by Dennis Williams to the Thought for the Day List.


Tuesday, July 29, 2003

Saddam = W?

Will someone please tell me the difference between Saddam trying to con the UN Weapons Inspectors and W refusing to delete the passages from the internal review of the 9/11/01 (2001!) intelligence received by the White House prior to 9/11/03? National Security? Think Richard M. Nixon invoking national security to conceal common crimes (breaking/entering and burglary). It gets worse. Now, Admiral John Poindexter (USN, Ret.), has created a stock market venture (to recoup the costs of Iraq?) to speculate on assassination and regime-change. Speculate? Make a few bucks on the murder of the brothers Hussein or their daddy? How are we different from the Iraqi regime? Excuse me. I have to go vomit. I am ashamed of the United States of America. If this is treason, make the most of it.

Mortimer J. Adler: No Pain, No Gain

Move over Lionel Basney, make room for Mortimer J. Adler. No pain, no gain. I knew it!



In an essay published in The Journal of Educational Sociology in 1941, Mortimer J. Adler argued that "the practices of educators, even if they are well-intentioned, who try to make learning less painful than it is, not only make it less exhilarating, but also weaken the will and minds of those upon whom this fraud is perpetrated." Adler, founder of the Great Books program, believed that all genuine learning involves some degree of suffering. "Unless we acknowledge that every invitation to learning can promise pleasure only as the result of pain," he argued, "... all of our invitations to learning ... will be as much buncombe as the worst patent medicine advertising."

Crimes Against Humanity

Today, I received the following e-mail message from a student in my summer class. This student holds an associate of science degree in nursing from Amarillo College. The student is in my history course because the student plans to pursue a bachelor of science degree in nursing from West Texas A&M University (25 miles south of Amarillo). Our vocationist, anti-intellectual academic leadership allows (encourages?) the nursing students at Amarillo College to take very few academic courses while completing the nearly 3-year regimen of study culminating in an RN certification. The objective of nursing students at Amarillo College is a passing score on the State licensure exam. This student had no library work within her nursing studies. Mortimer Adler would be horrified at the thought of a nurse whose mind was stuffed with information essential for passing the State Nursing Board Exam, not the ability to think critically. 80 academic hours and never set foot in a library: that is what I call a crime against humanity.



In message 55 on Tuesday, July 29, 2003 1:32am, a student in HIST 1302-004 writes:

Dear Dr Sapper, I would like to meet with you briefly about my debate after class tuesday. I have everything written out and need to make sure i am on the right track before I type it out. Yes I know I wont get the extra point I just need your expertise hahahah. You know in over 80 hours of college courses I havent had to write a report so it is a little scary for me, kinda sad but scary. So if I can visit with you briefly I would appreciate it. Thanks for time. A Student



See the WebCT Glossary on Crimes Against Humanity.

Here is the entry in the WebCT Glossary for HIST 1302-004:

Crimes Against Humanity: According to Dr. Sapper, many crimes against humanity are commited on college campuses. A teacher not requiring students to set foot in a library is one example of Sapper's crimes against humanity. Colleges creating gigantic classes ("monster sections") where students aren't given the chance to respond and think for themselves is another crime against humanity. Students also are guilty of crimes against humanity. Not following directions on a test is a crime against humanity, and will result in a student's induction into the Hall of Shame. See also working harder, working smarter, and pet peeves for other crimes against humanity. Submitted by Paul Lovell (HIST 1301-008/May Term 2001).



Monday, July 28, 2003

I Cannot Teach Students Anything

Note the last two sentences of the first paragraph:The teacher does not produce knowledge or stuff ideas into an empty, passive mind. It is the learner, not the teacher, who is the active producer of knowledge and ideas. I tell my students that if they do not ask questions, nothing happens. So, I am cheek by jowl with Mortimer J. Adler (1902-2001). Not bad company. Sapper and Adler (cough cough). However, it was Adler and Hutchins and it was Robert M. Hutchins who secured the University of Chicago's place as one of the best universities in the world.



The Art of Teaching

by Mortimer J. Adler, Ph.D.

Socrates gives us a basic insight into the nature of teaching when he compares the art of teaching to the ancient craft of the midwife. Just as the midwife assists the body to give birth to new life, so the teacher assists the mind to deliver itself of ideas, knowledge, and understanding. The essential notion here is that teaching is a humble, helping art. The teacher does not produce knowledge or stuff ideas into an empty, passive mind. It is the learner, not the teacher, who is the active producer of knowledge and ideas.

The ancients distinguish the skills of the physician and the farmer from those of the shoemaker and the house builder. Aristotle calls medicine and agriculture cooperative arts, because they work with nature to achieve results that nature is able to produce by itself. Shoes and houses would not exist unless men produced them; but the living body attains health without the intervention of doctors, and plants and animals grow without the aid of farmers. The skilled physician or farmer simply makes health or growth more certain and regular.

Teaching, like farming and healing, is a cooperative art which helps nature do what it can do itself -- though not as well without it. We have all learned many things without the aid of a teacher. Some exceptional individuals have acquired wide learning and deep insight with very little formal schooling. But for most of us the process of learning is made more certain and less painful when we have a teacher's help. His methodical guidance makes our learning -- and it is still ours -- easier and more effective.

One basic aspect of teaching is not found in the other two cooperative arts that work with organic nature. Teaching always involves a relation between the mind of one person and the mind of another. The teacher is not merely a talking book, an animated phonograph record, broadcast to an unknown audience. He enters into a dialogue with his student. This dialogue goes far beyond mere "talk," for a good deal of what is taught is transmitted almost unconsciously in the personal interchange between teacher and student. We might get by with encyclopaedias, phonograph records, and TV broadcasts if it were not for this intangible element, which is present in every good teacher-student relation.

This is a two-way relation. The teacher gives, and the student receives aid and guidance. The student is a "disciple"; that is, he accepts and follows the discipline prescribed by the teacher for the development of his mind. This is not a passive submission to arbitrary authority. It is an active appropriation by the student of the directions indicated by the teacher. The good student uses his teacher just as a child uses his parents, as a means of attaining maturity and independence. The recalcitrant student, who spurns a teacher's help, is wasteful and self-destructive.

Speaking simply and in the broadest sense, the teacher shows the student how to discern, evaluate, judge, and recognize the truth. He does not impose a fixed content of ideas and doctrines that the student must learn by rote. He teaches the student how to learn and think for himself. He encourages rather than suppresses a critical and intelligent response.

The student's response and growth is the only reward suitable for such a labor of love. Teaching, the highest of the ministerial or cooperative arts, is devoted to the good of others. It is an act of supreme generosity. St. Augustine calls it the greatest act of charity.

Beginning of Week 3

We are at the halfway point in the summer term. The students begin the in-class presentations tomorrow. As I tell them, this assignment makes me the Amarillo College equivalent of the illusionist — David Copperfield — because I make students vanish. Funny, they stick around until they have to do something. On top of having to do something, the students must do what most folks fear almost as much as death: speak to a group. Ah, well.

The second of the AC presidential candidates is on campus today. This guy is prexy of a rural juco in southeast Arkansas. He was dean of instruction at Clarendon College back in the late 80s. Clarendon College is one of the smallest jucos in TX. After he left Clarendon, he was dean of instruction at Western Oklahoma Junior College in Altus, OK. Amarillo must look like Paris to him. All we will get is blah, blah, blah. Ed buzzwords. We will work together to achieve greatness. Blah, blah, blah.

I can hardly wait to work with the next Leader. Off to class.

SciTech? What Would Frederick Jackson Turner Think?

[x CHE, August 1, 2003]


SciTech: The Forces Are With Us

By DANIEL J. KEVLES

It is a commonplace that the United States is a scientific and technological society. SciTech has been as essential to American development as, for example, migration and settlement, industrialization and reform, the movements for civil rights and women's rights. It has wrought enormous changes in American life since the early days of the Republic -- notably in national security, transportation, communications, work, manufacturing, consumer habits, leisure, and medical care. When, in 1799, George Washington contracted the respiratory infection that killed him, his doctors could do no more than bleed him, soak his feet, swathe his throat with flannel and ointments, and assist his breathing with steam. Now he would be treated with antibiotics, temporarily placed on a respirator, and most likely saved.

Perhaps no group is as familiar with SciTech -- especially the Tech -- as today's college students. They behave like astonishing parallel processors, able effortlessly and simultaneously to watch TV, surf the Web, listen to music, and do their homework. At the same time -- witness recent laments -- they seem to know little about their historical roots and connection to the larger society. Putting the story of science and technology into the American narrative could help connect students to the past and encourage them to recognize history as relevant. Yet most contemporary college textbooks grant SciTech little more than perfunctory treatment. They give the impression that technological innovation just happened, without cause or reason. In so doing, they encourage students to think that SciTech is beyond control, that it condemns people to victimhood before some technical juggernaut. SciTech, of course, did not -- and does not -- just happen. Like, say, constitution making, it has been a product of human agency, whether it was Edison sweating to forge his electric-light and power system, physicists struggling to produce an atomic bomb, or biologists trying to devise a vaccine for polio. And, having arisen from human effort, it has been (and remains) within the reach of democratic regulation and decision.

Convinced that neglecting SciTech does injustice to the narrative and shortchanges students, my colleagues and I decided to write Inventing America, a textbook that integrates science and technology organically into the story of American history. We found that the integration came naturally, precisely because the innovations and uses of SciTech exemplify familiar themes in the development of the United States.

Both the innovations and uses have arisen from incentives of circumstance and policy -- public, private, and, to an important degree, some combination of the two. In the era of colonial dependency, Americans began importing knowledge, technology, plants, and animals from abroad, a process that mirrored the import of capital, people, and culture. Intellectual piracy in the form of designs for spinning jennies, which the British tried to keep secret, helped lay the foundation for the manufacture of textiles. But Americans also began accumulating their own intellectual capital. They gathered flora and fauna, contributed to knowledge of the physical world, and, like Benjamin Franklin with his lightning rod, exploited what they learned for practical purposes.

From the founding of the Republic, SciTech was encouraged by both state and federal governments for economic development and, in the federal case, for national defense as well. In the 19th century, the national interest in exploration and settlement led to the establishment of governmental surveys of the land and its resources. The Lewis and Clark expedition early in the century was followed in 1838-42 by the U.S. Navy's Wilkes Expedition, a flotilla of six small ships that sailed from Virginia around Cape Horn to the Fiji Islands, Hawaii, and on to Oregon and Washington, gathering some 160,000 zoological, ornithological, botanical, and ethnographic specimens. In the middle third of the century, some states mounted geological surveys to ascertain the location and extent of resources such as minerals and timber. After the Civil War, the federal government fostered a grand reconnaissance of the West to assess possible routes of the proposed transcontinental railroad.

Governmental encouragement of SciTech also took the form of legal, administrative, and financial incentives advanced directly or indirectly to private enterprise. Before 1787, the states enacted patent laws to foster invention, and the federal Constitution authorized Congress to do the same. Not long after the War of 1812, the U.S. Army collaborated with gun manufacturers to pioneer the development of interchangeable parts, an innovation that spread to other manufacturers and helped facilitate America's first industrial revolution, which depended upon mechanical invention and steam engines.

The greatest public-private technological collaboration of the 19th century was the railroads, their development initially fostered by the states and, then, the federal government. The United States Military Academy at West Point, the nation's leading engineering college until after the Civil War, provided part of the technical expertise that enabled the construction of the railroads (as well as the industrial system). Most of the rest came from private machine shops, where young men learned to design, use, and maintain machine tools and steam engines. The railroads themselves enormously stimulated economic development, not only by providing a fast transportation system but also by creating a huge demand for iron, steel, coal, and the telegraph lines that followed the tracks.

The consequences of industrial technology were, of course, by no means uniformly beneficial. In the hands of the new industrial owners, technology could serve to subdue and control workers. The Lowell, Mass., textile mills, initially paternalistic, undercut the leverage of skilled spinners by adopting machinery that could be operated by relatively cheap, unskilled laborers, many of them young women. In the mid-1840s, a mill superintendent remarked, "I regard my work people just as I regard my machinery. So long as they can do my work for what I choose to pay them, I keep them, getting out of them all I can." Such uses of technological innovation foreshadowed innovations in production, like the assembly line, that would subordinate human beings to machinery.

Not surprisingly, an ambivalence toward SciTech came to pervade American culture. Romantics -- writers, painters, poets, and essayists -- celebrated untrammeled nature, and reformers sought ways to control or escape from machine civilization. But landscape painters like Thomas Cole depicted water mills and railroads, and the utopian communities established in the 1840s were more concerned with fleeing from the cash nexus than from technology as such. Indeed, technology inspired many reformers to think that, if machinery could be perfected, so could society. Groups like the Shakers embraced machine technology as a way of emancipating themselves from burdensome manual labor so that they could devote more time to spiritual fulfillment.

After the Civil War, health reformers were inspired by their day's scientific understanding to wage war on disease. Basing their actions on theories that disease derived from filthy miasmas, they persuaded cities to remove garbage, clear horse droppings, empty privies, and install clean-water systems. Their theories proved to be incorrect: It was not the filth as such that caused disease but the infectious organisms that thrived in it. But reform efforts benefited public health by reducing the breeding grounds for the organisms.

In the late 19th century, as the nation's physical frontier closed, inventors, entrepreneurs, and, then, corporations turned increasingly to a new frontier -- the laboratory. Between the nation's centennial and its sesquicentennial, entire new industries arose from the physical sciences. Chemistry yielded, for example, petroleum, petroleum jelly, photography, celluloid, plastics, and artificial fertilizers. Physics spun off the telephone, electric light and power, X-rays, movies, radio, and aircraft. Electricity lit up the night, enabled the development of streetcar suburbs, and eased daily life with conveniences such as vacuum cleaners, refrigerators, and air conditioning.

Leading businessmen recognized the need to invest in innovation. Thomas Edison had shown the way by organizing what he called his "invention factory" at Menlo Park, N.J. After the turn of the century, several of the nation's new high-technology companies -- notably AT&T, General Electric, and DuPont -- established industrial-research laboratories. Going beyond Edison's model, those enterprises fostered not only invention but also the development of basic knowledge in areas relevant to their technologies.

Health also benefited from what biologists were learning in the laboratory. Beginning in the 1880s, with Robert Koch's discovery that bacteria were agents of disease, the miasmatic theory of contagion was replaced by the infectious theory. That was effectively applied during the construction of the Panama Canal to suppress water- and mosquito-borne diseases by spraying oil on streams and swamps and by digging drainage ditches. Through the 20th century, bacteriology and virology led the way in developing vaccines, antitoxins, and, then, antibiotics. More than 300 prescription drugs were available in 1961 that had not been 20 years earlier; by 1960, the average life expectancy at birth had risen to almost 70 from 63 in 1940.

Through the first third of the 20th century, much of the development in industrial technology and medicine was the product of private enterprise, but government patronage contributed to the changes wrought by laboratory SciTech. Scientists at state and federally supported agricultural experiment stations used disciplines such as genetics and bacteriology to improve plants and livestock. The federal government assisted the fledgling aircraft industry by, for example, awarding contracts for the carriage of airmail and the development of military aircraft. During the New Deal, the expanded federal welfare role led to the construction of the dams of the Tennessee Valley Authority for flood control and power generation; to programs of soil conservation; and to the establishment of the National Cancer Institute.

But with World War II, the federal government became the dominant patron of scientific research and technological development in the United States. The wartime mobilization produced microwave radar, electronic computers, jet aircraft, penicillin, and, of course, the atomic bomb. In the postwar decades, federal patronage of research for defense and for health stimulated comparable innovations, providing knowledge and trained people that were spun out into the civilian economy, where established corporations and entrepreneurial start-ups created, most notably, the computer industry, the biotechnology industry, and the Internet.

Through most of the postwar period, SciTech contributed to increases in productivity, as industries invested heavily in labor-saving technology, so that, for example, between 1945 and 1960, the number of hours required to produce a car dropped by half. But, just as in the early days of the textile industry, the introduction of labor-saving machinery could cut two ways. Agribusiness responded to federal policies designed to raise farm wages by replacing workers with machines. In the South, the increasing demands of African-Americans, including sharecroppers, for decent jobs, housing, education, and voting rights led farmers to adopt mechanization as a means of driving complainants off the land and out of the region.

Yet technologies could also be liberating. Portable radios, especially the transistorized variety, emancipated teenagers from the parentally controlled listening environment of the large radio console; along with tape players and CD players, radios contributed to the creation of an autonomous teen culture. Margaret Sanger had long encouraged work on a contraceptive pill that would allow women sexual lives free from the fear of pregnancy. The pill arrived in the early 1960s, its development having been made possible in part by the research into the physiology of reproduction that was financed by Sanger's wealthy ally, Katherine McCormick, a graduate of MIT and an heir of the reaper fortune.

SciTech also figured significantly in the creation of the regulatory state. In the early 1850s, the federal government had stepped in to regulate the safety of steamboats plying interstate waterways, an intervention that foreshadowed the establishment of federal regulation of the railroads, food and drugs, communications, the airwaves, and air transport. In some cases, science-based regulation for a perceived public good led to curtailments of individual freedom that later generations would deplore. One such instance was the eugenic sterilization laws passed by numerous states and upheld by the U.S. Supreme Court in 1927. Later advances in human genetics, however, contributed to the enlargement of reproductive freedom. For example, among the arguments advanced in Roe v. Wade in favor of the right to abortion was that amniocentesis might reveal that the fetus is doomed to suffer a genetic disease or disability.

The more SciTech pervaded American life, however, the more people regarded it with ambivalence, especially as they grew more sensitive to environmental preservation and the protection of minority rights. Dams might generate the electric power needed for economic development in the West, but they also inundated raw nature and forced residents, often Native Americans, from their homes. Nuclear-power plants might have been hailed as providing electricity too cheap to meter; as the accidents at Three Mile Island and then Chernobyl made clear, they posed their own hazards.

The chemical and plastics industries supplied people with advantages ranging from microwaveable dishes to lighter automobile components, but they also contributed to pollution and destruction of wildlife. Personal computers gave millions convenient access to an infinite world of information; they also afforded public and private agencies unprecedented opportunities for surveillance and the invasion of privacy. High-tech medicine extended health and life; it also assisted in depersonalizing medical care, vastly increasing its cost, and creating dire life-and-death choices. Americans have lived for more than half a century with the threat of nuclear Armageddon. Now their sense of security is bedeviled by fears of chemical and biological weapons.

All those ambivalences highlight the fact that the direction of SciTech has never been more crucially a matter for public policy and democratic decision. The contemporary role of SciTech in maintaining the nation's security, economy, environment, health, and intellectual vitality is indisputable. Exploration of the forces that have shaped its impact on the United States can equip people to deal with similar forces at work now. Not to examine them historically is to impair understanding of our nation's past and to menace its future.

Daniel J. Kevles is a professor of history at Yale University. He is co-author, with Pauline Maier, Merritt Roe Smith, and Alexander Keyssar, of the textbook Inventing America: A History of the United States (W.W. Norton, 2002).

Copyright © 2003 by The Chronicle of Higher Education

Sunday, July 27, 2003

Ben Sargent, July 25, 2003

Ben Sargent is my favorite editorial cartoonist. He is the visual equivalent of Molly Ivins. I love 'em both.



Ben Sargent, July 25, 2003

BLOGGER

BLOGGER

A Half-Dozen Jokes

(1)Survivor, Texas-Style

Network TV is reported to be developing a "Texas version" of "Survivor," the recent popular TV show.

Contestants must travel from Amarillo through Fort Worth, Dallas, Houston, San Antonio and back to Amarillo, through San Marcos and Lubbock. Each will be driving a Volvo with a bumper sticker that reads: I'm for Gore, I'm gay, and I'm here to take your guns.

The first contestant to complete the round trip is the winner.

(2) State Mottos

Alabama: Hell Yes, We Have Electricity

Alaska: 11,623 Eskimos Can't Be Wrong!

Arizona: But It's A Dry Heat

Arkansas: Literacy Ain't Everything

California: By 30, Our Women Have More Plastic Than Your Honda

Colorado: If You Don't Ski, Don't Bother

Connecticut: Like Massachusetts, Only The Kennedy's Don't Own It-Yet

Delaware: We Really Do Like The Chemicals In Our Water

Florida: Ask Us About Our Grandkids

Georgia: We Put The "Fun" In Fundamentalist Extremism

Hawaii: Haka Tiki Mou Sha'ami Leeki Toru (Death To Mainland Scum, But Leave Your Money)

Idaho: More Than Just Potatoes...Well Okay, We're Not, But The Potatoes Sure Are Real Good

Illinois: Please Don't Pronounce the "S"

Indiana: 2 Billion Years Tidal Wave Free

Iowa: We Do Amazing Things With Corn

Kansas: First Of The Rectangle States

Kentucky: Five Million People; Fifteen Last Names

Louisiana: We're Not ALL Drunk Cajun Wackos, But That's Our Tourism Campaign

Maine: We're Really Cold, But We Have Cheap Lobster

Maryland: If You Can Dream It, We Can Tax It

Massachusetts: Our Taxes Are Lower Than Sweden's (For Most Tax Brackets)

Michigan: First Line Of Defense From The Canadians

Minnesota: 10,000 Lakes... And 10,000,000,000,000 Mosquitoes

Mississippi: Come And Feel Better About Your Own State

Missouri: Your Federal Flood Relief Tax Dollars At Work

Montana: Land Of The Big Sky, The Unabomber, Right-Wing Crazies, And Very Little Else

Nebraska: Ask About Our State Motto Contest

Nevada: Hookers and Poker!

New Hampshire: Go Away And Leave Us Alone

New Jersey: You Want A ##$%##! Motto? I Got Yer ##$%##! Motto Right Here!

New Mexico: Lizards Make Excellent pets

New York: You Have The Right To Remain Silent, You Have The Right To An Attorney....

North Carolina: Tobacco Is A Vegetable

North Dakota: We Really Are One Of The 50 States!

Ohio: At Least We're Not Michigan

Oklahoma: Like The Play, Only No Singing

Oregon: Spotted Owl... It's What's For Dinner

Pennsylvania: Cook With Coal

Rhode Island: We're Not REALLY An Island

South Carolina: Remember The Civil War? We Didn't Actually Surrender

South Dakota: Closer Than North Dakota

Tennessee: The Educashun State

Texas: Si' Hablo Ing'les

Utah: Our Jesus Is Better Than Your Jesus

Vermont: Yep

Virginia: Who Says Government Stiffs And Slackjaw Yokels Don't Mix?

Washington: Help! We're Overrun By Nerds And Slackers!

Washington, D.C.: Wanna Be Mayor?

West Virginia: One Big Happy Family... Really!

Wisconsin: Come Cut The Cheese

Wyoming: Where Men Are Men... and the sheep are scared

(3)You Might Be A Republican If...

You think "proletariat" is a type of cheese.

You've named your kids "Deduction one" and "Deduction two"

You've tried to argue that poverty could be abolished if people were just allowed to keep more of their minimum wage.

You've ever referred to someone as "my (insert racial or ethnic minority here) friend"

You've ever tried to prove Jesus was a capitalist and opposed to welfare.

You're a pro-lifer, but support the death penalty.

You think Huey Newton is a cookie.

The only union you support is the Baseball Players, because heck, they're richer than you.

You think you might remember laughing once as a kid.

You once broke loose at a party and removed your neck tie.

You call mall rent-a-cops "jack-booted thugs."

You've ever referred to the moral fiber of something.

You've ever uttered the phrase, "Why don't we just bomb the sons of bitches."

You've ever said, "I can't wait to get into business school."

You've ever called a secretary or waitress "Tootsie."

You answer to "The Man."

You don't think "The Simpsons" is all that funny, but you watch it because that Flanders fellow makes a lot of sense.

You fax the FBI a list of "Commies in my Neighborhood."

You don't let your kids watch Sesame Street because you accuse Bert and Ernie of "sexual deviance."

You scream "Dit-dit-ditto" while making love.

You've argued that art has a "moral foundation set in Western values."

When people say "Marx," you think "Groucho."

You've ever yelled, "Hey hippie, get a haircut."

You think Birkenstock was that radical rock concert in 1969.

You argue that you need 300 handguns, in case a bear ever attacks your home.

Vietnam makes a lot of sense to you.

You point to Hootie and the Blowfish as evidence of the end of racism in America.

You've ever said civil liberties, schmivil schmiberties.

You've ever said "Clean air? Looks clean to me."

You've ever called education a luxury.

You look down through a glass ceiling and chuckle.

You wonder if donations to the Pentagon are tax-deductable.

You came of age in the '60s and don't remember Bob Dylan.

You own a vehicle with an "Ollie North: American Hero" sticker.

You're afraid of the liberal media."

You ever based an argument on the phrase, "Well, tradition dictates...."

You ever told a child that Oscar the Grouch "lives in a trash can because he is lazy and doesn't want to contribute to society."

You've ever urged someone to pull themselves up by their bootstraps, when they don't even have shoes.

You confuse Lenin with Lennon.

(4) Democrat Jokes

Q: What's the difference between a Democrat and a trampoline? A: You take off your shoes before you jump on a trampoline.

Q: What's the difference between a Democrat and a prostitute? A: The prostitute gives value for the money she takes.

Q: What's the difference between a dead skunk in the road and a dead Democrat in the road? A: Vultures will eat the skunk.

Q: What's the difference between a Democrat and a catfish? A: One is an ugly, scum sucking bottom-feeder and the other is a fish.

Q: What do you get when you cross a bad politician with a lawyer? A: Chelsea.

Q: What do you get when you cross a pilgrim with a democrat? A: A god-fearing tax collector who gives thanks for what other people have.

Q: Why should Democrats be buried 100 feet deep? A: Because deep down, they're really good people.

Q: What happens when you cross a pig with a Democrat? A: Nothing. There are some things a pig won't do.

Q: Why did God create Democrats? A: In order to make used car salesmen look good.

Q: What is a recent Democrat graduate's usual question in his first job? A: What would you like to have with your french fries, sir?

Q. How many Democrats does it take to screw in a light bulb? A. Just one, but it really gets screwed.

Q: How many Democrats does it take to change a light bulb? A: It's irrelevant; they still don't know they're in the dark!

They say that Christopher Columbus was the first Democrat. When he left to discover America, he didn't know where he was going. When he got there he didn't know where he was. And it was all done on a government grant.

(5)Proud to Be a Democrat

A first grade teacher in the Midwest is explaining to her class that she is a Republican and how nice it is that a new Republican president has taken office. She asks her students to raise their hands if they, too, are Republicans and support George Bush. Everyone in class raises their hands except one little girl. "Mary," says the teacher with surprise, "why didn't you raise your hand?" Because I'm not a Republican," says Mary. "Well, what are you?" asks the teacher. "I'm a Democrat and proud of it," replies the little girl. The teacher cannot believe her ears. "My goodness, Mary, why are you a Democrat?" she asks. "Well, my momma and papa are Democrats, so I'm a Democrat, too." "Well," says the teacher in an annoyed tone, "that's no reason for you to be a Democrat. You don't always have to be like your parents. What if your momma was a criminal and your papa was a criminal, too, what would you be then?" Mary smiled. "Then we'd be Republicans."

(6)Things Found Only in the USA

1. Only in the USA......can a pizza get to your house faster than an ambulance.

2. Only in the USA......are there handicap parking places in front of a skating rink.

3. Only in the USA......do drugstores make the sick walk all the way to the back of the store to get their prescriptions while healthy people can buy cigarettes at the front.

4. Only in the USA......do people order double cheese burgers, large fries, and a diet Coke.

5. Only in the USA......do banks leave both doors to the vault open and then chain the pens to the counters.

6. Only in the USA......do we leave cars worth thousands of dollars in the driveway and put our useless junk in the garage.

7. Only in the USA......do we use answering machines to screen calls and then have call waiting so we won't miss a call from someone we didn't want to talk to in the first place.

8. Only in the USA......do we buy hot dogs in packages of ten and buns in packages of eight.

9. Only in the USA......do we use the word 'politics' to describe the process so well: Poli' in Latin meaning 'many' and 'tics' meaning 'bloodsucking creatures'.

10. Only in the USA......do they have drive-up ATM machines with Braille lettering.

Saturday, July 26, 2003

Forget McJob and To Google! New Words for 2003!

My AP Reading chum — Ned Kerstetter of Willoughby, OH — sent this item to me. Think about 'em.



Each year the Washington Post's Style Invitational asks readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing only one letter and supply a new definition. Here are the 2002 winners:

Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.


Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.


Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.


Hipatitis: Terminal coolness.


Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit).


Karmageddon: It's, like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's, like, a serious bummer.


Glibido: All talk and no action.


Dopeer Effect: The tendency to think that stupid ideas seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.


And, the winner of the Washington Post's Style Invitational:

Ignoranus: A person who's both stupid and an a..hole

© Washington Post, 2002

Friday, July 25, 2003

Speaking of Dictators....

Professor Louis Menand (English, NYU) won the Pulitzer Prize for History with The Metaphysical Club. This intellectual history of pragmatism and its creators (William James, Charles Peirce, Olver Wendell Holmes, Jr, et al. is outstanding. Menand offers a meditation on dictatorship and dictators in this recent essay. What attracted me to this piece after I had written about two former presidents of Amarillo College? As John Adams said (quoted by Menand): Power always thinks it has a great soul.



July 25, 2003

THE DEVIL’S DISCIPLES

by LOUIS MENAND

Can you force people to love freedom?

Few puzzles in political philosophy are more daunting than the Problem of the Loyal Henchmen. The Problem of the Loyal Henchmen is a subset of the more familiar Problem of Authority. Why does authority command obedience? A man who tells you to pick your gum wrapper up off the sidewalk is generally ignored; a man in a uniform who makes the same request, even if it’s the uniform of a bus driver, is instinctively obeyed. People wearing white lab coats and carrying clipboards, with no other evidence of expertise, have succeeded in persuading subjects in psychology experiments to act in the belief that they are torturing other human beings. In these cases, people can persuade themselves that the authorities they obey are benign—that picking up litter and torturing other human beings in a laboratory are in the interests of civic order and scientific progress. The Problem of the Loyal Henchmen arises when people willingly obey authorities everyone knows to be evil. Why, after the villain has fled in his private submarine, and while the high-tech palace crashes and burns, does the last unincinerated member of the villain’s private militia risk his life to take a shot at James Bond? Loyalty to Blofeld? Loyalty to the principles of Blofeldism? What could that mean?

Some distinctions are helpful. First, there are dictators and there are dictators. Political science has distinguished two types, totalitarian and authoritarian (“t. & a.,” in foreign-policy shorthand). The definitions were established in 1956 by a Harvard professor, Carl Friedrich, and his co-writer, a recent Harvard Ph.D., Zbigniew Brzezinski; their book, “Totalitarian Dictatorship and Autocracy,” was for many years the authority on authoritarianism. Friedrich and Brzezinski identified six criteria that a regime must meet in order to qualify as “totalitarian”: an official, chiliastic ideology; a single political party; a centrally directed economy; party control of mass communications; party control of the military; and a secret police. Authoritarian dictatorships are bad, but totalitarianism is the more dangerous phenomenon. Friedrich and Brzezinski’s classifications lost favor in the nineteen-sixties, when they began to seem a hypocritical way of distinguishing between dictatorial regimes (generally right wing) that were friendly to American interests and dictatorial regimes (generally left wing) opposed to those interests. The terms were revived, to much attention, in 1979, in an essay in Commentary by Jeane Kirkpatrick, who went on to become Ronald Reagan’s first Ambassador to the United Nations.

No doubt the American government operates with a double standard when dealing with autocratic regimes, tolerating Saudi abuses of human rights while condemning Cuban abuses, for example. But Friedrich and Brzezinski’s distinction was not meant to be a distinction simply between degrees of oppressiveness. They considered authoritarian and totalitarian states to be different types of regimes—to be, in some sense, antithetical. As Friedrich put it in an early article, “Totalitarianism is precisely the opposite of authoritarianism. . . . In a totalitarian society true authority is altogether destroyed.” He meant that a key feature of totalitarian societies is the absence of any reliable legal or political structure. Totalitarian rule is experienced as arbitrary rule: the citizen never knows when the knock on the door may come. Another name for this is “terror.”

One writer who identified terror as the essence of totalitarianism was Hannah Arendt. Arendt started writing “The Origins of Totalitarianism” in 1945, the year Nazi Germany was defeated. The book was published in 1951, at the time of the Korean War, and it immediately became a staple of Cold War thinking. Friedrich and Brzezinski were political scientists; Arendt was a philosopher. She was interested in the politics of totalitarianism, but she was also interested in the metaphysics, in totalitarianism as a mode of being in the world. Terror, she argued, may be experienced as arbitrary, but it is not arbitrary and it is not lawless. Every despot exercises power arbitrarily; all dictators are outside the law. The distinctive feature of totalitarian societies is that everyone, including (in theory, anyway) the dictator, can be sacrificed in the name of a superhuman law, a law of nature or a law of history. “Totalitarianism strives not toward despotic rule over men but toward a system in which men are superfluous,” she said. In Nazism, everyone is subordinate to the race war; in Bolshevism, to the class struggle. Man-made laws and political institutions are temporary shelters for vested interests, to be flattened by the winds of destiny. And the winds never cease. Hitler did not talk in terms of his own lifetime. He talked in terms of “the next thousand years.”

Why do nations veer down this path? This was the question Arendt tried to answer. She believed that totalitarianism was a distinctively twentieth-century phenomenon, made possible by the emergence of two social groups, which she named “the mob” and “the masses.” The mob is made up of “the refuse of all classes”: disempowered aristocrats, disillusioned intellectuals, and gangsters—people deprived of access to mainstream social and political life, and motivated by a politics of resentment. From the mob is drawn the leadership of totalitarian movements. The masses are the troops. Arendt thought that the masses were the product of capitalism’s destruction of the class system, and its replacement of the citizen, who is motivated primarily by fellowship, with Homo economicus, a figure motivated solely by rational self-interest. But rational self-interest is an inadequate foundation for selfhood. We need the sense of fellowship to sustain the sense of self: relations with others are what give our own lives meaning. Mass man is deracinated, alienated, atomized—a balloon tethered to nothing. He is not a political creature, since politics requires shared interests. He is not really interested even in himself, since his sense of self is so attenuated. He is therefore readily enlisted in movements that preach the annihilation of the individual in the name of a superhuman law.

The mysterious part of totalitarianism’s appeal—and here we return to the Problem of the Loyal Henchmen—is that its official ideology can be, and usually is, absurd on its face, and known to be absurd by the leaders who preach it. This is because the mob is made up of cynics; for them, everything is a lie anyway. And the masses’ hostility is free-floating. It has no concrete object: the masses are hostile to life as it is. The more extreme and outrageous the totalitarian ideology, therefore, and the more devoid of practical political sense, the more ineluctable its appeal. Totalitarian rule, Arendt argued, is predicated on the assumption that proving that a thing is true is less effective than acting as though it were true. The Nazis did not invite a discussion of the merits of anti-Semitism; they simply acted out its consequences. This is why documents like the memorandums for which Alfred Dreyfus was convicted of treason and “The Protocols of the Elders of Zion” continued to be believed even after they had been exposed as forgeries, and why the Moscow Trials were defended even by people who knew that the “confessions” were fraudulent. It’s why some of the defendants in those trials went uncomplainingly to be executed for crimes they had not committed. And it gives plausibility to the henchman who sacrifices his life to take a final shot at James Bond. Blofeldism, an impossible and megalomaniac belief in world domination, is a perfect parody of Nazism and Stalinism—just as empty and just as deluded, although, thanks to 007, not nearly as deadly.

Totalitarianism, authoritarianism, the mob, and the masses are abstractions, but they do real work in the world. The purpose of Benjamin Alpers’ timely book, “Dictators, Democracy, and American Public Culture” (North Carolina; $19.95), is to enumerate, by surveying political theory, journalism, and popular culture from the nineteen-twenties through the nineteen-fifties, the various uses to which some of these terms have been put. Parts of Alpers’ book overlap an earlier study, Abbott Gleason’s “Totalitarianism: The Inner History of the Cold War” (1995), but Alpers has some fresh sources and some new things to say.

Arendt is sometimes credited as the first person to make the case for equating Fascism and Communism as regimes of the same type, and for refusing to make a moral distinction between Hitler’s Germany and Stalin’s Russia. She was not the first (and she did not claim that she was), but it is true that, from the nineteen-thirties on, many Western intellectuals insisted on making such a distinction, and were still doing so as late as 1982, the year Susan Sontag scandalized some of them by referring to Communism as “Fascism with a human face.” As Alpers shows, the fortunes of the term “totalitarianism,” a word coined in the nineteen-twenties to describe Mussolini’s regime, were for many years tied to the debate over the true nature of the Soviet Union. Communists never regarded Fascism as a brother regime; one of the worst things you could call someone in Stalin’s era was a Fascist, just as the worst thing you could call someone in Hitler’s was a Bolshevik (Jewishness was implied in the term). During the period of the Popular Front, from 1935 to 1938, when the Communist Party sought alliances with progressive groups in the name of anti-Fascism, it was therefore unseemly to suggest any similarity between Communism and Fascism as forms of government. This changed abruptly in August, 1939, when the Soviet Union signed the Non-Aggression Pact with Germany; it changed again in 1941, when Hitler invaded Russia and the Soviet Union became America’s ally. And then it changed once more. By the end of the war, people in the American government were referring to Soviet Communism as totalitarianism, and the notion that Communism was the moral equivalent of Fascism was dominant in American official discourse during the first two decades of the Cold War.

Looking at movies and novels of the forties and fifties, though, Alpers makes an interesting observation. In the popular notion of Fascism, all Germans are Fascists; in the popular notion of Soviet Communism, there is a difference between the leadership and the people. Every German, in popular culture, is a closet Nazi; ordinary Russians are closet democrats. Communism is an oppressive ideology. Fascism is a sickness in the soul. The implication is that you can liberate the subjects of a Communist regime, but the subjects of a Fascist regime are incurable. This distinction goes to the question of why people follow authority. Do the loyal henchmen obey the dictator out of fear or out of conviction? When the pistol is no longer pointed at their heads, do they reveal their true identities as liberal pluralists? Or was it the pistol that they loved all along?

People have suggested that the “war on terror” that the United States declared after the attacks of September 11th fills a rhetorical and ideological vacuum left by the end of the Cold War. Once again, the liberal democracies face a global threat. Once again, the world can be divided in two, which is at least a relief to thought, division by two being one of the simplest arithmetical calculations. The analogy between the war on terror and the war against Communism is sound as far as it goes. But this one is, after all, distinctly a hot war. September 11th was widely interpreted as a second Pearl Harbor: it’s the Second World War that the United States seems to want to be fighting. And for a number of commentators who support the war—Daniel Pipes, in “Militant Islam Reaches America”; Paul Berman, in “Terror and Liberalism”; Thomas Friedman, in his Times columns, collected in “Longitudes and Attitudes: Exploring the World After September 11”—the Nazi example is just as relevant.



Then who is the United States “liberating” when it deposes the ruling cliques in Afghanistan and Iraq? People who obeyed out of fear, or people who obeyed out of conviction, or out of partial conviction, or out of hatred for the alternative? In the mid-century literature on totalitarianism and democracy—Erich Fromm’s “Escape from Freedom” (1941), Arthur Koestler’s “Darkness at Noon” (1941), George Orwell’s “1984” (1949), Arthur Schlesinger, Jr.,’s “The Vital Center” (1949), Arendt’s “Origins of Totalitarianism”—the key idea is that modern life has produced a new kind of human being: mass man, or, sometimes, totalitarian man. In 1941, Time announced “the triumphant emergence of a new human type, totalitarian man—superbly armed, deliberately destructive and dominant.” Germany alone didn’t produce this type; Russia didn’t produce it. Western civilization produced it. Alpers is surely right when he argues that the critique of totalitarianism by writers like Arendt is of a piece with their critique of popular culture, which they attacked as culture manufactured for the mass of unindividuated individuals, atomized beings able to feel alive only in their frenzied response to empty celebrity. A consistent theme in the anti-totalitarian writings of the nineteen-forties and nineteen-fifties is “It can happen here.” The sources of Fascism “are in the human soul, not in economics,” Lewis Mumford wrote, in 1940. “There is a little bit of the fascist in every one of us, and a good deal in some of us,” Max Lerner said. Mass man is not forced to be a Fascist. He wants to be a Fascist.

This construction has returned in the popular phrase “the Arab street.” The fictional man on the Arab street has all the features of Arendt’s mass man: an outcast from modernity, deprived of access to political and economic goods in his own society, adrift in a secularizing world, utterly credulous of preposterous and impractical doctrines. He believes that the Israelis are responsible for the destruction of the World Trade Center towers, just as the followers of Hitler believed that Jews and Gypsies were non-human. He embraces, in the name of a higher law, a cult of death. But if all this is so, how, exactly, is the Arab street supposed to be turned into Main Street? The promise of Operation Iraqi Freedom was that “the Iraqi people” would embrace American-style political and economic freedoms. The Administration assured the world that the United States—or, rather, coalition forces—would occupy the country only until the Iraqis were able to choose their own government. When initial indications were that the Iraqis were inclined to choose a theocracy, the plans for the occupation quickly changed. Can you force people to be free?

It is an old conundrum. The philosopher Bernard Williams, in an article published in the journal Philosophy & Public Affairs, shortly before his death this year, puts the hypothetical case of the happy slave. If a slave wants none of the things that his servitude prevents him from having, is he free? And if he is persuaded by his “liberators” that he does want those things, has he then been made free or has he simply been made into a slave by his liberators? Suicide bombers present the same puzzle. Suicide is voluntary, and implies freedom of choice. But it is hard to understand the actions of suicide bombers without some notion of indoctrination, and if the suicide bombers were indoctrinated then they did not choose freely. Similarly, the instinctive American response to people who demand to live in a theocracy is that those people are not choosing freely—that a genuinely free person would never willingly exchange his lot to live under the thumb of an autocratic priesthood. There is every reason to believe that the great majority of Iraqis living under the regime of Saddam Hussein were not happy slaves. It does not follow that the things they wanted, the things that Saddam and his henchmen prevented them from having, were liberty and democracy as Americans understand them. Should we—do we have a duty to—compel them to live democratically?



Fareed Zakaria thinks that we do have a duty but that we should not be in a rush about it. His argument, in “The Future of Freedom: Illiberal Democracy at Home and Abroad” (Norton; $24.95), is that liberty and democracy are not identical values. Everyone knows that you can have a liberal autocracy: as long as the ruler permits civil and economic freedoms, a society may be liberal without having a representative form of government. Zakaria’s point is that you can also have democracy without liberalism—what he calls “illiberal democracy.” He believes that this is an increasingly common political regime. “As of this writing close to half of the ‘democratizing’ countries in the world are illiberal democracies,” he says.

Zakaria is not against democracy. He is against “the democratization of democracy.” Although Zakaria’s print and television appearances over the past two years may lead readers to assume that his book is about the “clash of civilizations” between Islam and the West, most of it is about what Zakaria regards as the excessive respect for pure democracy in the United States—the reliance on polling, the popularity of ballot initiatives, the insistence on making all institutions “answerable to the public.” (He somehow neglects to discuss the most obvious counterindication to this trend, the 2000 Presidential elections, in which the man declared the winner by judicial fiat lost the popular vote by a significant margin.)

Still, Zakaria does have some observations about the Middle East. The chief one is that if elections were held in most Arab countries today the resulting societies would be more illiberal, not less. “The [Arab] monarchs are more liberal than the societies over which they reign,” as he puts it. In his view, democracy properly appears rather late in the process of democratization. First, you need some degree of prosperity, which Zakaria quantifies as a gross domestic product of between three thousand and six thousand dollars per capita. (“Once rich, democracies become immortal,” he adds, not altogether convincingly.) After that, you need a market economy and civil liberties. When these foundations are in place, democracy becomes sustainable. There is some realism in this argument. There is also, perhaps, too much faith in the current notion that illiberal societies can free-market themselves into nice, stable, liberal ones—an approach that the former Soviet Union does not seem to be having much luck with. One feels, too, that liberty and democracy are not so easily pried apart—the one requires something of the other all along the line—and that, in any case, no single formula fits all societies. Sometimes autocracies give way peaceably to democratic regimes, and sometimes bloody revolutions are necessary.

Also, of course, not everyone on the planet, even after having been fully undoctrinated, wants the same social goods. Arab rulers, on the whole, might be said to want capitalism without democracy; Arab people, to all appearances, want democracy, or at least self-government, without capitalism. Conceptions, on both sides, of the desirability of liberalism—cultural pluralism, civil liberties, religious tolerance, separation of powers—seem, by Western standards, limited. One thing we can be fairly confident that people in the Arab world want, since it is what we would want if we were in a comparable position, is not to be told by someone else what to want. It is the threat of outside control that makes terrorists and political strongmen possible. The devil at home is, many times, preferable to the angel from across the seas. Choosing to live with the devil does not change people’s DNA, though. If circumstances can make dictatorship attractive, new circumstances can make it hateful. When the war is over and the dictator is deposed, the Nazi and the Baathist have a way of melting into something indistinguishable from the ordinary apolitical citizen. There are frightened people; there are ignorant people; there are angry people. But “totalitarian man” is a myth.



The surest path to the top for a would-be dictator is to assure people that their fate is being determined by strangers, by people who are, in some fundamental way, unlike themselves. Several years ago, Riccardo Orizio, an Italian journalist, began to track down former dictators who are now living in disgrace and largely forgotten, and to interview them. The result, “Talk of the Devil: Encounters with Seven Dictators” (Walker; $22), is fascinating. Orizio’s subjects are not just ordinary, run-of-the-mill ex-dictators. They are: Idi Amin, of Uganda, now enjoying life as a guest of the Saudis; Jean-Bédel Bokassa, of the Central African Republic, known to the people of that country as the Ogre of Berengo; Wojciech Jaruzelski, the Soviets’ Polish puppet; Nexhmije Hoxha, who (with, until his death, her husband, Enver) ruled Albania for nearly fifty years; Jean-Claude (Baby Doc) Duvalier, who got run out of Haiti in 1986; Mengitsu Haile Mariam, the Marxist-Leninist dictator of Ethiopia; and Mira Markovic, the wife of Slobodan Milosevic, who is currently on trial in The Hague for crimes against humanity. (Manuel Noriega, from his Florida prison cell, politely declined a meeting, on the ground, as he put it in a letter to Orizio, that he was by no means yet in the category of forgotten dictators. “God,” he explained, “has not yet written the last word on manuel a. noriega!”)

Each ex-dictator is mad in his own way, but what almost all of them insist on, in their interviews with Orizio, is that everything they did—the torture, the starvation, the looting of the nation’s wealth, the murder of political opponents—was for the good of their country. The alternatives were chaos, colonization, or slaughter. These men and women were, in their own minds, patriots. They validate John Adams’s old warning that “power always thinks it has a great soul.” The degree of cognitive dissonance involved in being a person who oppresses people out of love for them is summed up in a poster that Baby Doc Duvalier had put up in Haiti. It read, “I should like to stand before the tribunal of history as the person who irreversibly founded democracy in Haiti.” And it was signed “Jean-Claude Duvalier, president-for-life.”

When Orizio asks his dictators about their crimes and excesses—Bokassa and Amin have both been accused of cannibalism—they mostly pass the stories off as the lies of their enemies, but when they do offer an explanation it tends to boil down to what the evil duke says in James Thurber’s “The Thirteen Clocks”: “We all have flaws, and mine is being wicked.” Personal excesses are not the point. The point is that order and autonomy were preserved. Most of them say to Orizio what Saddam Hussein is no doubt saying to whatever loyal henchmen may be remaining to him: Look at my country now! The henchmen are nodding solemnly in agreement. Is it because they agree or because they are afraid not to agree? Possibly they no longer know the difference.



© The New Yorker, 2003