
t is hard
to imagine a worse, more reactionary and destructive,
Presidency than that of George W. Bush, whose nearly four
years in office has been marred by one failure after
another. The Iraq debacle, costing (as of mid-September
2004) more than 1000 American and up to 30,000 Iraqi lives
and proving more bloody by the day, is alone enough to
destroy Bush’s legitimate claim to govern. Justified by the
most brazen lies and myths, the invasion and occupation must
be regarded as one of most reckless uses of political power
in U.S. history, bringing misery and chaos to Iraq and the
Middle East, draining taxpayers of more than 200 billion
dollars and counting, giving rise to weekly reports of
atrocities and scandals, and carried out with the most
arrogant disrespect for the United Nations, international
law, and the voices of other nations.
Shamefully
playing on the horrors of 9/11, this administration conducts
its “war on terrorism” while also doing everything possible
to aggravate the sources of terror and diverting vital
resources away from the needs of homeland security.
The White House is occupied by a ruthless, scheming elite
that presides over increasing global disorder, a
record federal budget deficit, corporate scandals, spreading
poverty, a stagnant economy, Medicare “reform” that augments
the already outrageous windfall profits to giant
pharmaceutical companies, and erosion of civil liberties.
All this from a candidate who ran in 2000 as a
“compassionate” conservative, pretending humility in foreign
affairs, and who again is covering himself with a phony
veneer of political moderation, now coupled with the
toughness of a warrior leader.
Even the
Nixon and Reagan years now appear relatively benign in the
wake of Bush junior’s frightening record. No doubt a Bush
reelection would bring further disasters—most likely new
military ventures in world politics combined with emboldened
rightwing assaults on social programs in the domestic arena.
Bush is surely no Hitler, as some on the left have charged,
but his capacity to do unfathomable harm to American
society, the environment, and the global system should not
be underestimated. There would be much cause for rejoicing
should the President be sent unceremoniously back to his
Texas ranch. The danger is heightened by the fact that Bush
comes from a well-entrenched labyrinth of interests defined
by corporate privilege, oil, weapons production and arms
trade, and intelligence networks—part of a dynasty going
back several decades.
From
Senator Prescott Bush through George Bush the elder and his
son, the family has been deeply involved in the
military-industrial complex, active in more than 20
securities firms, banks, brokerage houses, investment
companies, arms-trading businesses, pharmaceutical
corporations, and Middle East oil ventures. It has enjoyed a
cozy relationship with the scandal-ridden Enron corporation
and some of its subsidiaries—a relationship that, as in the
oil business, extends to Vice-President Richard Cheney and
others in the administration. Michael Moore’s skillful
treatment of this legacy in Fahrenheit 9/11 actually
comes across as something of an understatement. In
any event, the disastrous policies that Bush and the neocon
crowd have unleashed on the world do not amount to a radical
or shocking departure when viewed against this larger
backdrop; legitimated in part by the terrorist attacks, they
did not come out of an historical vacuum. If scary talk
about Bush’s Christian fundamentalism explains little in
this context, references to his supposed moronic
intelligence are even less helpful.
As the 2004
Presidential election approaches, we confront a paradox: how
could someone regarded by many as the worst-ever occupant of
the White House stand even a remote chance of being
reelected, much less enter the home stretch of the campaign
with a comfortable lead in the polls? Despite everything,
the smirk on Bush’s face remains in full view. As of early
September, both Time and Newsweek showed the
incumbent ahead of John Kerry by an astonishing eleven
percentage points. Contrary to all logic, it was the
Democrats and not the failed President who were reeling,
forced onto the defensive, strategically confused, looking
as if their campaign were on life-support systems. How can
we make sense of such a seemingly inexplicable turn of
events?
One plausible
explanation lies in the hegemonic and still
broadening power of the corporate media which, as David
Brock shows in The Republican Noise Machine, is the
locus of a well-orchestrated right wing ideological shift
over the past two decades or so. There is little doubt that
political discourse has moved dramatically rightward—visible
in the TV networks, talk radio, the print media, even the
Internet—to the point where “liberalism” has become
something of a terrible stigma avoided by all but the most
bold-spirited of politicians. It is easy enough to see that
the media have cravenly accommodated the Bush clique in its
lies, ineptness, and warmongering, cheerfully presenting the
Iraq war as a crusade for the “liberation” of an oppressed
people, another episode in U.S. global benevolence. All the
bogus claims used to market an illegal and immoral
war—imminent military threat, doomsday weapons, terrorist
links, overthrowing a tyrant—went unchallenged while the
actual reasons, openly and repeatedly spelled out by neocons
and others in the administration, were economic and
geopolitical.
The media
has also been quick to repeat the familiar litany of myths,
including the fiction that Republicans stand for small
government and a free market. The reality is just the
opposite: astronomical levels of federal spending for the
military, the Iraq operation, law enforcement, intelligence
and surveillance, and a growing prison system, made even
more lopsided by Bush’s massive tax cuts for the rich and
the corporations. The result is unsurpassed growth in the
coercive side of big government. Small government and
reduced bureaucracy? This Republican administration
cherishes huge federal programs, so long as they fit
priorities established by the Pentagon and the rest of the
military-industrial complex. Free market? Everything about
this system, extending to the corporate boondoggles in Iraq
and elsewhere, is channeled through institutions marked by
highly-concentrated economic, military, and political power.
Bush’s love affair with old-crony capitalism, moreover, has
nothing to do with free market values, any more than does
the modus operandi of military contractors, big drug
companies, financial interests, and usual complex of
transnational corporations that escape the reaches of
democratic governance. Since the popular media repeats these
myths and deceits on a daily basis, and since the American
public gets most of its “news” and information from these
very sources, the paradox of Bush’s surprising advantage in
the polls becomes a little less mystifying.
But there
is more to the story. The Democrats, above all the Kerry
campaign, must share responsibility for their own
predicament. In fact most of Bush’s harmful policies,
including the Iraq crusade, have enjoyed “bipartisan”
support from leading Democrats as well as the media. With
few exceptions, the Democrats have responded in silence to
just about every Bush fiasco. Handed one major issue after
another, Kerry strategists have backtracked, seemingly
frightened of being attacked as too liberal, too
unpatriotic, too soft on terrorism, too unsettling to the
legions of undecided voters. The Kerry campaign has echoed
many of the Bush refrains, endorsing the Iraq war as a noble
cause, promising deployment of tens of thousands more
troops, hoping to “stay the course,” while pressing to
internationalize (that is, further legitimate) the
occupation that has already become a Vietnam-sized failure.
In September 2003 Kerry endorsed Order 39 for Iraq, intended
to open the doors to U.S. and other Western corporate
investment—a fundamental restructuring of the Iraqi economy
that violates international law. If one can identify such a
thing as a “Bush Doctrine,” Kerry’s thinking seems confined
to its discursive limits. Should he somehow manage to win
the November election, the American public will likely
remain clueless as to how he might set about reversing the
course of events.
The
Republicans gained some momentum after their New York
convention, but the Kerry trajectory remained flat after the
comparatively lifeless Democratic National Convention in
Boston, where the familiar DNC-style “centrism” was rigidly
enforced: nothing beyond the mildest criticism of the Iraq
occupation or the war against terrorism, general platitudes
on the economy, jobs, and healthcare. No Bush-bashing was
permitted. Fearful of alienating middle-of-the-road voters,
the Democrats organized one of the most boring national
conventions in memory: nearly four years of a reactionary
Bush presidency went almost forgotten, as if calling
attention to them would backfire, even though polls
indicated a broad discontent with Bush’s policies among the
electorate. Thus, on the question of terrorism, with Bush’s
“war” having accomplished little, the Democratic platform
reads: “Victory in the war on terrorism requires a
combination of American determination and international
cooperation on all fronts.” Kerry and Edwards could easily
have blasted the Bush administration for its failed
counterterrorism strategy, beginning with Iraq, but they
politely desisted. As Richard Clarke, Bush’s former leading
terrorist expert, observed: “I find it outrageous that the
President is running for reelection on the grounds he’s done
such great things about terrorism. He ignored it.” Bush not
only ignored it, his actions in the Middle East have surely
helped spread it. Taking a page from Clarke’s book and using
it to frame their own anti-terror strategy, the Democrats
might well have gotten a boost after Boston, but they chose
silence. Meanwhile, Kerry moved at the DNC was to set
himself up as the preferred warrior candidate, a Vietnam
combat hero, patriot, and leader best able to rise to the
challenges of Empire, that is, to carry out effective
military action—a stratagem likely to backfire given Kerry’s
history of anti-Vietnam war activism not to mention the
Democrats’ own otherwise tepid campaign.
More than
three decades after his famous antiwar testimony, Senator
Kerry has emerged as something of a military hawk, insisting
that the U.S. must occupy Iraq until “the job is done,”
calling for more troops there, opposing Bush’s plan to
demobilize American forces in Europe and Korea, championing
“humanitarian intervention”, calling for elevated Pentagon
spending. Anyone following Kerry’s career since the early
1980s will not be astonished by any of this, whatever his
supposed liberal reputation. His views on foreign and
military policy are concisely laid out in his 2003 “vision”
book, A Call to Service, where he argues for a more
vigilant and aggressive U.S. global military power.
Relatively progressive as a young senator, he has since
worked patiently and effectively to make himself politically
safe, “electable” to the White House—his overriding goal for
the past two decades. He supported every conservative
domestic initiative during the Clinton years, was a lead
cheerleader for the bombing of Yugoslavia, and beginning in
2001 has endorsed Bush’s actions full-tilt, going out of his
way to blister politicians in his own party who questioned
the fraudulent pretexts for war. Why liberals and
progressives might expect any bold departure within the
Kerry camp, now or later, would be difficult to explain on
the basis of past actions or statements.
Of course
Kerry was indeed a combat hero during Vietnam—a war he came
to denounce as barbaric and immoral during the 1971 Winter
Soldier hearings. He served four months as a Navy lieutenant
aboard a patrol boat, being awarded the Bronze Star and
three Purple Hearts. Knowing as he did at the time, and
presumably has not forgotten today, that the Vietnam war was
a prolonged, bloody nightmare—and seeing a disastrous replay
of that same nightmare in Iraq—Kerry’s decision to dress up
his candidacy in military heroism linked to the Vietnam era
only makes sense as an opportunistic move to outflank Bush
as a hard-line military leader. He has wound up trapped not
only in the logic of militarism but in his own incapacity to
mount a challenge to Bush’s neocon strategy rooted in
superpatriotism and U.S. exceptionalism. Like the neocons,
he fails to see that this kind of militarism—recognizing few
limits to U.S. power—can only be self-defeating, that
efforts to occupy Iraq for any purpose cannot
possibly gain legitimacy. Much like Robert McNamara in
The Fog of War, Kerry says that both he and the U.S.
have learned from the Vietnam catastrophe, that is it time
to “get beyond” that horrible memory, but from all
indications he seems to have learned absolutely
nothing—indeed probably less than McNamara. Further, in
establishing himself as bearer of warrior politics, and
drawing on his own (conflicted) Vietnam experience, he
places himself at great disadvantage when running against a
sitting (at war) president with his mantle
“commander-in-chief,” even if that mantle is quite tainted.
This tells us a good deal about why Kerry has been thrown on
the defensive at a time when he has every opportunity to
mount a strong offensive campaign.
This
recycling of the Vietnam era in the 2004 Presidential
contest, fully 30 years after that war ended, furnishes yet
another sad commentary on the state of American political
culture. On the one side Kerry is commonly known to have
protested the war—joining with millions of citizens in and
out of the military—but he had also been amply decorated and
now apparently wants to be embraced as a war hero straight
out of the Hollywood combat genre. How this starkly dual
involvement in an extremely unpopular war bolsters his
Presidential cache is anyone’s guess; it doesn’t seem to
have worked with the electorate, and it has made him a
rather easy target for the Republicans. On the other side we
have Bush, recipient of preferential treatment owing to
family connections who was safely confined to Air National
Guard duty instead of being sent to Vietnam, now going on
the attack through a well-financed Republican group, the
Swift Boat Veterans, who charge Kerry with lying about his
wartime service and his medals. These charges are doubly
scurrilous—bogus according to the evidence, but also
scarcely germaine to the tasks of Presidential governance at
hand. As the Republican campaign descends into a crude
marketing effort based on sleazy personal attacks, more
lies, and fear-mongering, the infamous Vietnam Syndrome in
yet another one of its bizarre incarnations lives on to
haunt American politics. That it should hover over the
landscape at the very moment another “Vietnam” is unfolding
before a cynical American public simply feeds into the
political bankruptcy.
In the
midst of such absurdity the entire Presidential campaign
ends up sidestepping all that really matters: how to exit
the Iraq morass as quickly and viably as possible, how to
forge efficacious strategies (domestic and global) to fight
terrorism, how to solve the healthcare crisis, how to
stabilize the economy, how to do anything to reverse
global warming, and so forth. In the lead-up to arguably one
of the most critical elections in U.S. history, a political
haze has settled over everything. Aside from the usual
posturing and name-calling, neither Bush nor Kerry have had
much to say about the most pressing challenges, a situation
reflective of ongoing trends toward ideological convergence
of the two major parties and its corollary, growing
corporate colonization of American politics. For Bush, the
2004 campaign seems to be about honing an image of
moderation, a return to compassionate conservatism, while
for Kerry it is an equally fanciful “centrism” that rarely
goes beyond refinements in the Republican program. Here we
have yet another rendering of the term “bipartisanship,”
operative in foreign policy since the end of World War II
but now increasingly visible on the domestic front.
If the
Presidential contest has deteriorated into pointless
squabbles about what Lt. Kerry did in the Mekong Delta in
1969, then—even leaving aside the scandalous favoritism
granted Bush and his Vice-President Cheney at that very
time—where does this leave a restless public in facing what
should be a leading priority of any U.S. President—checking
terrorism and getting the country returned to a sound
condition of national security? The Democratic platform is
so filled with vague generalities as to be useless. If Bush
has won a few victories, such as routing (temporarily)
Taliban and Al Qaeda forces in Afghanistan, his overall
record has been dismal, with worldwide terrorist actions on
the increase since 9/11. Neither candidate is about to
rethink those aspects of U.S. foreign policy (massive troop
deployments in the Middle East, occupation of Iraq, support
for Israel) that only help worsen the problem. Kerry says
that American troops should remain in Iraq for at least
another four years, a recipe for even more chaos,
violence, and blowback against the superpower and its
“coalition partners.” Since Kerry has already voted for
Bush’s policies and is ideologically locked into the same
geopolitical objectives, his capacity to provide fresh
alternatives is severely undermined. We know that Bush
initially dismissed the problem of terrorism out of hand,
then refused to follow up intelligence reports in summer
2001 warning of imminent major Al Qaeda operations, then
moved against Iraq on the false pretext that the Hussein
regime was linked to terrorism—all of which reveals a failed
Presidency and more. Most egregiously, the Bush
administration has steadily deflected resources away from
homeland security—for example, leaving airport, seaport, and
nuclear protection woefully inadequate—largely because of
the Iraq obsession.
Once in the
White House, Bush and his reactionary clique had three main
international priorities: Iraq, Star Wars, and Pentagon
restructuring. These priorities have remained fully in
place, although 9/11 meant they would have to be reframed.
Contrary to myth, Bush’s hapless record in the war on
terrorism has nothing to do with “intelligence failures” and
everything to do with politics; it was willful negligence
born of irrational ideological agendas. We now know that
reports from the CIA, NSA, FBI, and other agencies were
routinely ignored or downplayed. Secretary of Defense Donald
Rumsfeld at one point dismissed the terrorism threat as a
normal “law-enforcement problem.” In the case of Iraq, on
the other hand, intelligence “data” was actually created or
exaggerated to support phony claims about WMD, military
threats, and terrorist connections, so that Bush could
maintain that the invasion and occupation of Iraq is an
ongoing, integral part of the war on terrorism.
Unfortunately, the report of the independent National
Commission on 9/11, while detailing the many political,
intelligence, and law-enforcement calamities leading up to
the terrorist attacks, refuses to hold anyone responsible,
stating “our aim was not to assign individual blame.” The
report seems to conclude that because the whole system was
so terribly flawed, with so many institutions and agencies
implicated, no particular leader or official is culpable.
Yet as supreme office holder Bush must be held
accountable, just as he now tries to take credit for all the
supposed achievements in the war on terrorism. In fact Bush
can be viewed as triply culpable: he ignored the
first warnings, failed after 9/11 to invest sufficient
resources in homeland security, and then aggravated the
conditions of blowback by invading Iraq. Further, Bush’s
personal ineptitude and painfully slow response in learning
of the terrorist attacks is tellingly depicted in Moore’s
documentary. At the RNP, conveniently staged in New York,
the Bush-Cheney campaign shamelessly used the 9/11 events to
market the war in Iraq as a great blow against Al Qaeda and
the forces of darkness, when of course the war has given
rise to just the opposite. Leading Republicans like Rudy
Giuliani and John McCain came to the podium to trumpet this
message while exploiting popular fears of future terrorist
attacks. The Kerry-Edwards campaign has done little to call
attention to the complete mendacity of these discourses.
Still, the
Republicans appear to have the political upper hand and the
electoral momentum, utilizing every advantage of incumbency,
a culture of imperial hubris, and a fully-compliant
corporate media. Another, perhaps deeper conundrum is that
Kerry, like most every leading Democrat going back to
Carter, is essentially running as a moderate Republican,
another connotation of “centrism” in the electoral parlance.
All too often they have managed little more than a me-too
campaigns on both domestic and international policy,
differences surfacing mostly over methods, style,
personality, and social issues like the death penalty.
Carter was able to win in the aftermath of Watergate and
Vietnam, but Mondale and Dukakis went down to humiliating
defeat. Clinton’s DLC-inspired conservatism, meant to defeat
the Republicans on their own turf, never would have
prevailed in 1992 without Ross Perot winning 19 percent of
the vote, and Clinton eventually governed the way he
campaigned. Al Gore’s failure to carve out positions to the
left of Bush in 2000 are too well known to require
elaboration here. It might be argued that Kerry has moved
even to the right of his Democratic predecessors. By
mid-September, his election prospects languishing, he
started moving forcefully on domestic issues, lashing out at
Bush’s record on civil rights, poverty, and healthcare—easy
enough targets—hoping to narrow the gap, which he did
judging by a minor surge in the polls. In foreign policy,
however, and especially on Iraq, Kerry’s positions remained
guarded and muted.
The
predicament here is not Kerry’s alone, but has deeper
historical origins stemming in part from the postwar legacy
of “bipartisanship” in U.S. foreign policy with Democrats
and Republicans equally wedded to a strategy of American
global power. Both have supported the Pentagon system and
its labyrinthine network of corporate, governmental, and
military interests, first during the phase of Cold War
liberalism and then in the current period of unchallenged
U.S. superpower hegemony and the war on terrorism. Before
the Bush interventions in Afghanistan and Iraq, it was
mostly Democratic presidents who resorted to military power:
Truman in Korea, Kennedy and Johnson in Vietnam, Carter in
Central America, Clinton in Yugoslavia. The “global
liberalism” first laid out by Woodrow Wilson and later
championed by JFK as the basis of U.S. counterinsurgency
strategy in the Third World remains today a crucial
rationale for advancing American economic and geopolitical
interests. Moreover, during the 2000 Presidential election
Al Gore pressed for a more aggressive foreign policy than
did Bush, calling for augmented Pentagon spending, increased
deployment of military forces, and a vigilant policy of
“humanitarian intervention”. Having stressed “humility” in
foreign affairs, Bush’s did not make his pronounced neocon
turn until after the traumas of 9/11. Viewed thusly, one
cannot be too surprised to find Bush justifying his
militarism with reference to the early postwar Truman
Doctrine, in which America was “called on to lead the cause
of freedom and democracy around the world.” The strategy of
“preemptive war” actually has its origins in Truman, who
with the onset of the Cold War defended the U.S. right of
military intervention anywhere national interests were
deemed threatened.
In terms of
both history and logic, therefore, we have little reason to
believe that Kerry’s larger view of revived Pax Americana
will differ markedly from Bush’s, whatever the possible
variations in style and tactics. No doubt a Kerry Presidency
would dispense with the ideological rigidity, imperial
arrogance, and self-defeating exceptionalism typical of the
neocons. On the other hand a Bush victory would surely
further embolden the neocons, ever anxious to press forward
on other fronts such as Iran, but the costly and bloody Iraq
catastrophe promises to negate such initiatives, at least
for the near future. Whatever the outcome in November, at
the start of the twenty-first century any U.S. leader will
be obligated to work within the imperatives of Empire:
global military presence, an expanded Pentagon system,
anti-terrorist initiatives, security state, the
militarization of space, ongoing resource wars. Such
imperatives, undoubtedly stronger today than ever, will
inevitably enter into the decision-making of Democrats and
Republicans alike. Kerry’s inability to carve out an
alternative to the Bush disaster must be understood in this
historical and geopolitical context. Such a momentous
eclipse of political discourse, fateful not only to American
society but to the rest of the world, is ultimately located
within a more crucial, underlying problem—the decay of
American politics in the midst of widening Empire.
Carl Boggs is the
author of numerous books in the fields of contemporary
social and political theory, European politics, and popular
movements and is Professor of Social Sciences at National
University in Los Angeles. His next book is Imperial
Delusions: American Militarism and Endless War (Rowman
and Littlefield). He is on the editorial board of several
journals, including Theory and Society (where he is
book-review editor), New Political Science, and
Democracy and Nature.
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