For the oldest of us, the Evening News died yesterday, the "most trusted man in America" who came into our living rooms every weekday night and told us about what was happening beyond our own senses, "And that's the way it is."
For two tumultuous decades, before 24/7 cable and the Internet, Walter Cronkite was the face of the news, mediating between millions of Americans and the raw chaos of events, ordering the flood of words and pictures into a hierarchy of importance and sending viewers off to live the other 23 and a half hours feeling well-informed.
It was an illusion, of course, but Cronkite was the ideal embodiment of reassurance that the turbulence of the 1960s and 1970s was not upending the world as they knew it.
In the days before O'Reilly, Olbermann et al, he presented violent scenes at home and abroad with a McLuhanesque cool that drained most of the threat from them, giving only rare glimpses of human emotion in his welling eyes and shaking voice as he reported JFK's death, the disorder of the 1968 Democratic Convention and the sight of a man walking on the moon.
But beyond that calm façade were good journalistic instincts about the failed war in Vietnam ("If I've lost Cronkite," LBJ said. "I've lost middle America") and the meaning of Watergate (along with Woodward and Bernstein, CBS News was following the break-in while the rest of the media slept).
In the flood of tributes that inevitably follow the death of such a figure, the one that undoubtedly would have meant the most to Walter Cronkite was that he was always a good reporter. That he certainly was.
Showing posts with label LBJ. Show all posts
Showing posts with label LBJ. Show all posts
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Monday, July 06, 2009
Death of the Best and Brightest
Robert S. McNamara, who died today at 93, was the exemplar of American know-how gone awry in a world too complicated for the practical mindset that built the most powerful nation on earth in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.
As one of JFK's "whiz kids" who went on to become LBJ's architect of the disastrous war in Vietnam, McNamara exemplified the limits of intellectual brilliance in a subtle and savage world.
"What went wrong was a basic misunderstanding or misevaluation of the threat to our security represented by the North Vietnamese,” he said, looking back in an oral history. “It led President Eisenhower in 1954 to say that if Vietnam were lost, or if Laos and Vietnam were lost, the dominoes would fall...
"I am certain we exaggerated the threat. Had we never intervened, I now doubt that the dominoes would have fallen; I doubt that all of Asia would have fallen under communist control...
“We didn’t know our opposition. We didn’t understand the Chinese, we didn’t understand the Vietnamese, particularly the North Vietnamese. So the first lesson is know your opponents.”
A Harvard professor who left to become president of Ford after the financial devastation of his wife's illness, McNamara successfully brought his systems-analysis approach to running the Pentagon but became the main figure described in David Halberstam's "The Best and the Brightest," Kennedy's crew of academic and industry brainiacs who pushed "brilliant policies that defied common sense" in Vietnam.
In later years, McNamara rued his role. "External military force cannot reconstruct a failed state, and Vietnam, during much of that period, was a failed state politically," he told CNN in a 1996 interview. "We didn't recognize it as such."
The lessons of his life are a critical reminder for the Obama Administration of the hubris that can blindside brilliance without accompanying insight into the realities of human behavior. Robert S. McNamara learned them too late, but they can help guide American policy today.
As one of JFK's "whiz kids" who went on to become LBJ's architect of the disastrous war in Vietnam, McNamara exemplified the limits of intellectual brilliance in a subtle and savage world.
"What went wrong was a basic misunderstanding or misevaluation of the threat to our security represented by the North Vietnamese,” he said, looking back in an oral history. “It led President Eisenhower in 1954 to say that if Vietnam were lost, or if Laos and Vietnam were lost, the dominoes would fall...
"I am certain we exaggerated the threat. Had we never intervened, I now doubt that the dominoes would have fallen; I doubt that all of Asia would have fallen under communist control...
“We didn’t know our opposition. We didn’t understand the Chinese, we didn’t understand the Vietnamese, particularly the North Vietnamese. So the first lesson is know your opponents.”
A Harvard professor who left to become president of Ford after the financial devastation of his wife's illness, McNamara successfully brought his systems-analysis approach to running the Pentagon but became the main figure described in David Halberstam's "The Best and the Brightest," Kennedy's crew of academic and industry brainiacs who pushed "brilliant policies that defied common sense" in Vietnam.
In later years, McNamara rued his role. "External military force cannot reconstruct a failed state, and Vietnam, during much of that period, was a failed state politically," he told CNN in a 1996 interview. "We didn't recognize it as such."
The lessons of his life are a critical reminder for the Obama Administration of the hubris that can blindside brilliance without accompanying insight into the realities of human behavior. Robert S. McNamara learned them too late, but they can help guide American policy today.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Lowballing Bush Memoirs
Laura Bush was on Fox News yesterday, probably the last in a round of appearances to drum up interest in her memoirs.
For some reason, publishers have not been bidding up any proposals for Bush nostalgia, even those of the relatively popular First Lady.
"One question that seems to be weighing on prospective editors," the New Yorker reports, "is whether a book by Mrs. Bush will provide a candid account of her feelings, and perhaps counter the popular view of her as an opinion-free robot."
Candid? What world are these publishing people living in? White House memoirs deal in self-justification, rewriting history and sometimes revenge (pace Nancy Reagan), but candor is never on the menu.
If it were, what we would most want to hear from Laura Bush is not about the White House years, but how she married a middle-aged drunk and straightened him out, a creditable feat for a spouse but a disaster for the country.
But the chances of learning that from her are about the same as getting a primal scream from Hillary Clinton over living with a skirt-chasing jerk before and after moving to Washington.
As a one-time book publisher, I was an unsuccessful bidder for Lady Bird Johnson's "A White House Diary," one of the few successful examples of the genre. (LBJ himself was too depressed to finish his own memoirs. As he told Doris Kearns Goodwin, who was collaborating with him, "They'll get me anyhow, no matter how hard I try. No matter what I say in this book the critics will pull it apart. The reviews are in the hands of my enemies--the New York Times and the Eastern magazines--so I don't have a chance.")
Somewhere in the future, the outgoing President will no doubt pocket umpteen millions from his publicist Rupert Murdoch for a work of fiction about the Bush years. But the book I would really like to read is Dick Cheney's "Dear Reader: As I Was Saying to Pat Leahy..."
For some reason, publishers have not been bidding up any proposals for Bush nostalgia, even those of the relatively popular First Lady.
"One question that seems to be weighing on prospective editors," the New Yorker reports, "is whether a book by Mrs. Bush will provide a candid account of her feelings, and perhaps counter the popular view of her as an opinion-free robot."
Candid? What world are these publishing people living in? White House memoirs deal in self-justification, rewriting history and sometimes revenge (pace Nancy Reagan), but candor is never on the menu.
If it were, what we would most want to hear from Laura Bush is not about the White House years, but how she married a middle-aged drunk and straightened him out, a creditable feat for a spouse but a disaster for the country.
But the chances of learning that from her are about the same as getting a primal scream from Hillary Clinton over living with a skirt-chasing jerk before and after moving to Washington.
As a one-time book publisher, I was an unsuccessful bidder for Lady Bird Johnson's "A White House Diary," one of the few successful examples of the genre. (LBJ himself was too depressed to finish his own memoirs. As he told Doris Kearns Goodwin, who was collaborating with him, "They'll get me anyhow, no matter how hard I try. No matter what I say in this book the critics will pull it apart. The reviews are in the hands of my enemies--the New York Times and the Eastern magazines--so I don't have a chance.")
Somewhere in the future, the outgoing President will no doubt pocket umpteen millions from his publicist Rupert Murdoch for a work of fiction about the Bush years. But the book I would really like to read is Dick Cheney's "Dear Reader: As I Was Saying to Pat Leahy..."
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Topless Summit
Photographic proof that the Cold War is finally over comes today in images of Barack Obama and Vladimir Putin naked to the waist.
The subliminal message may be that world leaders have nothing to hide, although Andy Borowitz suggests a darker meaning--that the President-Elect has lost his shirt in the economic crisis and is wandering on a deserted beach.
Old political hands point out that there were no such displays of skin in the good old days of LBJ and Khrushchev, as journalists in western Europe, particularly Germany, speculate about whether their heads of state will follow the new trend.
The subliminal message may be that world leaders have nothing to hide, although Andy Borowitz suggests a darker meaning--that the President-Elect has lost his shirt in the economic crisis and is wandering on a deserted beach.
Old political hands point out that there were no such displays of skin in the good old days of LBJ and Khrushchev, as journalists in western Europe, particularly Germany, speculate about whether their heads of state will follow the new trend.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Bill Clinton Watch
Which one will show up, the starry-eyed boy in the photograph reaching out to shake JFK's hand or the LBJ lookalike of later years, all guile, ego and appetite?
Tonight will punctuate the quarter of a century we have lived with the many Bill Clintons--the centrist with ideals, the "it's the economy, stupid" realist, the target of right-wing hatred, the self-destructive skirt chaser who tarnished his presidency, humiliated his wife and would do anything to give her the Oval Office as a consolation prize.
The advance word is unsettling--jockeying over what the topic of his speech should be and reports that he will leave town before tomorrow night's stadium acceptance speech.
But of all today's political figures, Bill Clinton of Hope, Arkansas who grew up without a father and created himself out of brains, charm and ambition should understand Barack Obama of Hawaii who did the same a generation later.
The expectation is that Bill Clinton's bruised ego will be more on display tonight than his gift for empathy. Is it too much to hope that the JFK-inspired boy in him will emerge to join today's Kennedys, young and old, to pass the torch without burning down the building?
It would bring him full circle to where he started and hoped to end.
Tonight will punctuate the quarter of a century we have lived with the many Bill Clintons--the centrist with ideals, the "it's the economy, stupid" realist, the target of right-wing hatred, the self-destructive skirt chaser who tarnished his presidency, humiliated his wife and would do anything to give her the Oval Office as a consolation prize.
The advance word is unsettling--jockeying over what the topic of his speech should be and reports that he will leave town before tomorrow night's stadium acceptance speech.
But of all today's political figures, Bill Clinton of Hope, Arkansas who grew up without a father and created himself out of brains, charm and ambition should understand Barack Obama of Hawaii who did the same a generation later.
The expectation is that Bill Clinton's bruised ego will be more on display tonight than his gift for empathy. Is it too much to hope that the JFK-inspired boy in him will emerge to join today's Kennedys, young and old, to pass the torch without burning down the building?
It would bring him full circle to where he started and hoped to end.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
RFK: Tears for a Tough Guy
Forty years ago tonight, hours before Robert Kennedy was killed, I was campaigning as a Eugene McCarthy delegate to the 1968 Democratic convention. When a man rose to spew out Kennedy hatred, I cut him off and said, "I'm running to stop the war. If McCarthy drops out, I'll vote for Kennedy."
Two days later, from an office window, I was looking down at a line of people more than a mile long inching toward St. Patrick's Cathedral on a brutally hot day to view RFK's body lying there.
Watching became unbearable, and I went down with others to wheel a plastic barrel on a dolly and hand out paper cups of water. The air was heavy with heat and tears. Without words, there was an occasional meeting of eyes in shared sadness. In that year of political murder and chaos, we were mourning the loss of more than one man.
Robert Kennedy had been his brother's fierce protector, enforcer, campaign manager, Attorney General and, after the assassination, keeper of the flame. But like JFK before him, in the last days of his life, he became something more.
In late 1963, stunned by grief, he was enraged with me for publishing excerpts from a book of family essays about his oldest brother Joe, who died in World War II. "He keeps sending me rockets." Pierre Salinger said sadly. "If he needs to fight with someone now," I answered, "it isn't going to be me."
The book was in the Library of Congress for all to see, but I sent RFK the copyright of the article, along with a contribution to the Presidential library, and he was mollified to the point of writing back that he was "touched" by an editorial I had written about JFK's death.
Later we skirmished over excerpts from a guileless book by Red Fay, a JFK buddy, but soon afterward RFK, by then Senator from New York, came to lunch in our magazine's dining room to make peace and went into the kitchen afterward to charm the chef by comparing notes on their Irish ancestors.
In 1967, appalled by the unending war in Vietnam, I was among those urging him to oppose Johnson in the 1968 Democratic primaries. He declined, on the grounds that it would look like a personal vendetta, and we turned to Senator Eugene McCarthy.
When Kennedy declared his candidacy, many of us reluctantly stuck with McCarthy, a vain, arrogant man who had nonetheless been there when it counted. But during the campaign, RFK found his voice, just as his brother had in 1960. If he had lived, he would have won the presidency.
At his funeral Mass, Ted Kennedy said, "My brother need not be idolized or enlarged in death beyond what he was in life [but] be remembered simply as a good and decent man, who saw wrong and tried to right it, saw suffering and tried to heal it, saw war and tried to stop it.
"Those of us who loved him, and who take him to his rest today, pray that what he was to us, and what he wished for others, will someday come to pass for all the world. As he said many times, in many parts of this nation, to those he touched and who sought to touch him: 'Some men see things as they are and say, 'Why?' I dream of things that never were and say, 'Why not?'"
Before the year was out, Ted Sorensen called about a memoir RFK had written about the Cuban Missile Crisis. My company bought all the rights for $1 million, which would go to trust funds for his children. We ran it in McCall's and arranged for publication throughout the world.
Looking back from another century, Robert Kennedy's book could have served as a primer for George W. Bush in confronting his pseudo-nuclear Iraq crisis. With missiles 90 miles from our shores, JFK rejected military advice for an air strike or invasion, lined up support from the United Nations, gave the Russians every chance to back down and, when they did, ordered that there be no gloating about victory. No CIA “slam dunk,” “Mission Accomplished” or “Bring it on!”
Robert Kennedy played a crucial part in those thirteen days, and like his brother before him, was still learning and growing during his all-too-few years. Looking at today's politicians, that alone is cause for tears.
Two days later, from an office window, I was looking down at a line of people more than a mile long inching toward St. Patrick's Cathedral on a brutally hot day to view RFK's body lying there.
Watching became unbearable, and I went down with others to wheel a plastic barrel on a dolly and hand out paper cups of water. The air was heavy with heat and tears. Without words, there was an occasional meeting of eyes in shared sadness. In that year of political murder and chaos, we were mourning the loss of more than one man.
Robert Kennedy had been his brother's fierce protector, enforcer, campaign manager, Attorney General and, after the assassination, keeper of the flame. But like JFK before him, in the last days of his life, he became something more.
In late 1963, stunned by grief, he was enraged with me for publishing excerpts from a book of family essays about his oldest brother Joe, who died in World War II. "He keeps sending me rockets." Pierre Salinger said sadly. "If he needs to fight with someone now," I answered, "it isn't going to be me."
The book was in the Library of Congress for all to see, but I sent RFK the copyright of the article, along with a contribution to the Presidential library, and he was mollified to the point of writing back that he was "touched" by an editorial I had written about JFK's death.
Later we skirmished over excerpts from a guileless book by Red Fay, a JFK buddy, but soon afterward RFK, by then Senator from New York, came to lunch in our magazine's dining room to make peace and went into the kitchen afterward to charm the chef by comparing notes on their Irish ancestors.
In 1967, appalled by the unending war in Vietnam, I was among those urging him to oppose Johnson in the 1968 Democratic primaries. He declined, on the grounds that it would look like a personal vendetta, and we turned to Senator Eugene McCarthy.
When Kennedy declared his candidacy, many of us reluctantly stuck with McCarthy, a vain, arrogant man who had nonetheless been there when it counted. But during the campaign, RFK found his voice, just as his brother had in 1960. If he had lived, he would have won the presidency.
At his funeral Mass, Ted Kennedy said, "My brother need not be idolized or enlarged in death beyond what he was in life [but] be remembered simply as a good and decent man, who saw wrong and tried to right it, saw suffering and tried to heal it, saw war and tried to stop it.
"Those of us who loved him, and who take him to his rest today, pray that what he was to us, and what he wished for others, will someday come to pass for all the world. As he said many times, in many parts of this nation, to those he touched and who sought to touch him: 'Some men see things as they are and say, 'Why?' I dream of things that never were and say, 'Why not?'"
Before the year was out, Ted Sorensen called about a memoir RFK had written about the Cuban Missile Crisis. My company bought all the rights for $1 million, which would go to trust funds for his children. We ran it in McCall's and arranged for publication throughout the world.
Looking back from another century, Robert Kennedy's book could have served as a primer for George W. Bush in confronting his pseudo-nuclear Iraq crisis. With missiles 90 miles from our shores, JFK rejected military advice for an air strike or invasion, lined up support from the United Nations, gave the Russians every chance to back down and, when they did, ordered that there be no gloating about victory. No CIA “slam dunk,” “Mission Accomplished” or “Bring it on!”
Robert Kennedy played a crucial part in those thirteen days, and like his brother before him, was still learning and growing during his all-too-few years. Looking at today's politicians, that alone is cause for tears.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Hillary Clinton for VP
Tonight's debate pushed front and center the question of whether the Democratic Party can do what it did in 1960, nominate an inspiring young leader paired with a Washington veteran in the workings of government.
John F. Kennedy and Lyndon Johnson persuaded voters that they could open a New Frontier with the first Catholic president in American history. This year, the Democrats can offer a ticket with two firsts.
In tone and substance, the debate in Austin suggested that Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton together can restore the damage that George W. Bush has done to the American body politic and that John McCain might only prolong.
Their policy differences tonight were invisible to the naked eye, and they ended up with the kind of hearty handshake that could be repeated to seal their designation as the 2008 ticket at the Democratic convention in August.
For Obama, it would be a demonstration of his claim that he can bring people together. On her part, it would take character for Hillary Clinton to accept the vice-presidency after leading in the presidential polls for more than a year.
But voters are rendering a different judgment now, and when the Texas and Ohio primaries are over, Obama should look back at how JFK in 1960 insured that his party ended eight years of Republican rule by teaming up with his opponent for the nomination.
If the ticket won, Hillary Clinton in 2016 would still be younger than John McCain is now.
John F. Kennedy and Lyndon Johnson persuaded voters that they could open a New Frontier with the first Catholic president in American history. This year, the Democrats can offer a ticket with two firsts.
In tone and substance, the debate in Austin suggested that Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton together can restore the damage that George W. Bush has done to the American body politic and that John McCain might only prolong.
Their policy differences tonight were invisible to the naked eye, and they ended up with the kind of hearty handshake that could be repeated to seal their designation as the 2008 ticket at the Democratic convention in August.
For Obama, it would be a demonstration of his claim that he can bring people together. On her part, it would take character for Hillary Clinton to accept the vice-presidency after leading in the presidential polls for more than a year.
But voters are rendering a different judgment now, and when the Texas and Ohio primaries are over, Obama should look back at how JFK in 1960 insured that his party ended eight years of Republican rule by teaming up with his opponent for the nomination.
If the ticket won, Hillary Clinton in 2016 would still be younger than John McCain is now.
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