George W. Bush

Axis of stupidity

Bush's black-and-white rhetoric fails to grasp the complexity of the world. It doesn't even reveal the truth about the darkness of Iraq.

President Bush has enthusiastically reintroduced the word “evil” to our political language. Conservatives hail this as a return to American bedrock values, dropping all the diplomatic finesse and calling a spade a spade. And in the days after Sept. 11, as I pondered the diabolical deliberation that went into turning twin towers full of humanity into giant fireballs, I found his rhetoric bracing as well. But months later — by the time White House speechwriter David Frum came up with his “axis of evil” formulation for the Jan. 29 State of the Union speech, which Bush happily embraced as its emotional centerpiece — I had come to think of Bush’s rhetoric as part of the problem instead of the solution.

Bush utters the world “evil” the way a child does when it first dawns on him that there is darkness and danger in the world, and only his goodness and courage stands in its way. His axis-of-evil war cry, of course, was an attempt at Rooseveltian grandeur — but because it mangles geopolitical reality (unlike the enemies FDR faced, there is no alliance between Iraq, Iran and North Korea), it simply confuses the American public and underlines what a dismal imitation of a great president our current leader is. It reminds us that this is a man who entered the 2000 presidential race in midlife with the barest, most homespun grasp of the world beyond America’s borders, and after a year of Condi Rice tutorials and on-the-job training, is just a step away from calling Greeks “Grecians.”

The fact that Bush and Frum — a conservative intellectual who should know better — were not widely ridiculed for this addled terminology is one more depressing comment on our slack-jawed media and political opposition. One of the strangest responses to Bush’s rhetoric came in Wednesday’s New York Times, from the normally sound-minded columnist Thomas Friedman, who while thoroughly rejecting the intellectual merits of the axis-of-evil worldview, nonetheless embraced its wacky spirit because it’s necessary to be “as crazy as some of our enemies.” And Al Gore, suddenly back from the Land of Nod, typically played it both ways in a New York speech on Tuesday, praising Bush for zeroing in on the odd trio of evil, but then covering his liberal base by deploring that other dark triangle, poverty, disease and oppression. It’s time to stop all this dancing around and call Bush’s speech what it is: a flight of idiocy.

Did the president miss the briefing on the history of Iraq-Iran relations, the one that pointed out that the two countries are mortal enemies, one a Shiite theocracy riven by democratic yearnings, the other a Sunni-led and thoroughly secular Stalinist dictatorship, and that they bled each other nearly dry in one of the goriest wars of the 20th century? And how did starving and benighted North Korea get in there anyway? Former U.N. ambassador Richard Holbrooke offered the most likely explanation, telling CNN’s Jeff Greenfield that Bush probably threw in Beloved Leader Kim Chong-il’s bizarre dictatorship just to show the U.S. wasn’t going after only Islamic countries.

Bush’s speeches — or the speeches written for Bush — do nothing to expand America’s knowledge of the world we live in. There is no nuance or complexity in the president’s political language, and perhaps in his mind, and of course the world is filled with it. In fact, his own presidency is replete with it. Just days before his State of the Union speech, Bush pushed through the appointment of Otto Reich as assistant secretary of state for the Western Hemisphere, despite his ties to the Cuban terrorist behind one of the worst crimes in aviation history. As Holbrooke dryly noted to Greenfield, “One person’s terrorist is another person’s freedom fighter.” Then there’s China. Demonized in the early days of the Bush presidency by administration hard-liners as a bellicose foe in the Cold War mode, Beijing has now become one of our best friends in the war on terrorism.

Bush sees the world in the black-and-white terms of the born-again fundamentalist that he is. He has vowed to root out evil wherever it is in the world (why not original sin too while he’s at it?), and each day the press is filled with the names of new countries that the U.S. is targeting. In addition to the triad of evil, there is Yemen, Somalia, Indonesia, Algeria, the Central Asian republics, and of course American soldiers are already on the ground in the Philippines, where the full might of the U.S. arsenal is now being turned on a motley band called Abu Sayyaf, which as the New York Times’ Nicholas Kristof has reported, is not an Islamic terror group, but “simply a gang of about 60 brutal thugs” with no proven ties to al-Qaida.

In the past few weeks, Bush’s axis-of-evil hard line has succeeded in strengthening the hand of the militant mullahs in Iran and turning street demonstrations in Tehran that once hailed American democracy into “Death to the U.S.A.” chants; in bringing Iran closer to its hated Iraqi enemy, with Saddam Hussein extending a friendly hand to the mullahs for the first time since their epic war in the 1980s; and in driving the North Korean dictatorship deeper into its cave, further entombing the “sunshine” peace process boldly started by South Korea’s president Kim Dae Jung. It has also driven an ever-deeper wedge between the U.S. and its European, Asian and Arab allies, who have lined up to denounce Bush’s foreign policy. South Korean official Choi Jin Wook called Bush’s new line “very scary,” while Chris Patten — the European commissioner for international relations and a close associate of Tony Blair, the best friend in the world America could ever hope for — blasted it as “absolutist and simplistic” and “unilateralist overdrive.” All this and a skyrocketing military budget that threatens, along with Bush’s ill-conceived tax cuts, to return the country to economy-wrecking Reagan-era deficits. Seldom has one State of the Union speech had such a global impact.

In a matter of weeks, Bush has poisoned the deep well of international sympathy that overflowed after Sept. 11 (when even Parisians were carrying signs saying “We’re all Americans”) and revived an American unilateralism more virulent than even in the first days of his administration. Instead of focusing on rebuilding Afghanistan and reinvigorating the Mideast peace process — and thereby adding to America’s luster by showing the world, and particularly its Islamic populations, that we stand for the progress of humanity and not just our own aggrandizement — Bush has declared that the world is our buffer zone and we’re prepared to police it on our own.

This is not to deny that the world can indeed be dark and dangerous and that America must sometimes venture into it bristling with our unmatched weaponry. Over the past months, I have strongly supported Bush’s demolition of the al-Qaida network and Taliban government in Afghanistan. (And I will applaud even louder when the job is finished and U.S. forces have either captured Osama bin laden, Mullah Omar and their top aides or verified their deaths.) In addition, I have sharply criticized antiwar leftists who advocated a therapeutic response to terrorism, with none of the human mess that war entails. By denying their own country the right to defend itself militarily, these intellectuals and activists have so compromised themselves that, for now at least, they have lost their political credibility.

Nor is it to deny that, in the case of Saddam Hussein, America faces a dictator who is not only evil, but potentially threatening to our security as well, because of Saddam’s undying embrace of doomsday weapons and his record of using them, as well as his intermittent courtship of terrorists. (Iran and North Korea present problems of a different sort, but ones that — as President Clinton and our European allies have emphasized — are best dealt with through engagement rather than Bush-style rejectionism.) Saddam is clearly the Bush team’s fattest target, the great whale they let go when they were managing the first term of the Bush dynasty. On Tuesday, the administration underscored its seriousness about eliminating Saddam by sending out their voice of moderation, Colin Powell, to tell a Senate committee the dictator was definitely in its cross hairs this time, with or without the support of our allies.

But even in Saddam’s case, there is less black-and-white than Bush junior’s twangy rhetoric allows for. The history of U.S. relations with Baghdad is a case study in complexity, to put it mildly. Bush should just ask his father.

The United States’ less than savory involvement with Iraq began after World War II, when our government stepped into the colonial shoes of Britain and took up the same tactics of political intrigue and clandestine force to assure access to the country’s vast oil reserves on the West’s terms and to offset Soviet influence in the region. Ever since we insinuated ourselves into what Allen Dulles called “the most dangerous spot on earth,” the U.S. has cared about one thing only, “stability” — which Washington has invariably defined not as a just and democratic government, but as a dictatorship amenable to our interests, no matter how brutal to its own people. The U.S. never resorted to the most extreme British tactics, as in 1920 when the English used its air force and gas warfare against civilians to crush a popular uprising against the British-installed monarchy (foreshadowing Saddam’s ruthlessness against his own people). But, like Britain, Washington was not above orchestrating bloody coups aimed at eliminating leaders with nationalistic or Communist leanings.

In fact, it was one such coup — the 1963 revolt that toppled Abdel Karim Kassem — that first brought an ambitious young Ba’ath Party enforcer named Saddam Hussein to America’s attention. Saddam, who was in exile in Cairo at the time, offered his services to the CIA, since the Ba’athists and the U.S. had a mutual enemy in Kassem, with his Communist sympathies. After Kassem was overthrown and executed, Saddam and the CIA again teamed up, according to his biographer Said K. Aburish, to compile lists of Iraqi political enemies for elimination. “The primary source” for the names on the list, according to Aburish, was “William McHale, a CIA agent operating under the cover of a Time magazine correspondent and the brother of Don McHale, then a senior officer in Washington … But McHale, though he provided the longest list, was not alone, and a senior Egyptian intelligence officer, Christian Ba’athists in Lebanon, Saddam’s small group in Cairo and other individuals and groups contributed to this shameful exercise. As often happens on such occasions, some people were killed as a result of personal vendettas.

“Many were disposed of on an individual basis — a knock on the door followed by a hail of bullets; others died under torture or in groups of up to 30 at a time. After considerable research I have compiled a list of over 800 names, but the real figure is undoubtedly considerably higher. Those killed included people who represented the backbone of Iraqi society — lawyers, doctors, academics and students — as well as workers, women and children.”

With the Ba’athists now part of the new government, Saddam was given the job of fortifying its security, roaming the country in search of enemies and personally torturing some of them in the aptly named “Palace of the End” from which no one returned. It was during this period that Saddam began openly using the maxims of his hero, Stalin, particularly this stirring one: “If there is a person then there is a problem; if there is no person then there is no problem.”

When the Ba’athists were forced out of the government the following year, Saddam again had to flee. But by 1967, he and his fellow party leaders were once more conspiring with the CIA to overthrow the government of Abdel Salam Aref, who had attracted the enmity of the U.S. and Britain by inviting the Soviets to develop the vast North Rumeillah oil field. One American plotter, former Treasury Secretary Robert Anderson, was so blatant in his efforts that Iraqi demonstrators took to the streets in Baghdad shouting, “Go back home, Anderson!” Saddam and his fellow conspirators recruited support from a group of Iraqi military officers and in 1968 they took power. By 1970 Saddam himself was in complete control of the country. Since then he has perfected the cruel science of terror and torture, with his own people the chief victims. As Aburish observes, he “adopted the ways of Joseph Stalin and merged them with his tribal instincts … a synthesis of Bedouin guile and Communist method.” But as the 1970s and ’80s passed, no U.S. administration moved to restrain the beast of Baghdad. He was, and remained, a creature of Washington and its Mideast policy.

The Iraq doomsday arsenal that inflames Washington hawks today was built with U.S. and Western assistance during the Reagan-Bush years, when Saddam was viewed as a bludgeon against our enemy, the Ayatollah Khomeini’s regime. A U.S. company, American Type Culture Collection, shipped Baghdad strains of toxins and bacteria while Washington looked the other way. Saddam found other companies in the U.S., Britain, Germany, France and elsewhere willing to help supply his nuclear bomb program. “In all of this, we were just taking advantage of the West’s ‘don’t ask, just sell’ attitude toward Iraq,” writes Khidir Hamza, the exiled Iraqi nuclear scientist whose memoir “Saddam’s Bombmaker” is a deeply disturbing account of life inside the Saddam death culture.

During his war with Iran, Saddam began using his grotesque biochemical devices on his own people. According to Hamza, who calls this “one of the most grisly episodes of these awful weapons in history,” Saddam began not with the Kurds, but with the Shiites — the majority population he suspected of being fifth columnists during the war. He injected Shiites as they were released from prison with an anthrax-like toxin and then began experimenting with chemical agents on Shiite prisoners at a German-built “pesticide” factory. He then turned his infamous cousin, known as Ali Chemical, on the Kurds, whom Saddam also accused of being “back-stabbers” during the war. He began by dumping typhoid spores into Kurdish villagers’ water supplies. Then, in late 1987, he targeted villages in the Balasan Valley for gas attacks. By March 1988, Ali Chemical was ready for his most dramatic massacre, a nerve-agent assault on the village of Halabjah, a name that Hamza notes “would join Guernica, My Lai and Srbrenica in the pantheon of history’s infamous war crimes.”

It is Halabjah that President Bush refers to when he reviles Saddam for “gassing his own people.” But at the time, his father, then vice president and on his way to being elected president, made no similar expressions of outrage, nor did anyone in the Reagan administration, which cynically tried to put the blame for the gas attacks on Iran. “The world greeted the gruesome news with a deafening silence,” Hamza writes. “Saddam was the West’s dog in the fight against Iran.”

When Bush senior moved into the White House, he continued to support Saddam, ignoring his barbaric human rights violations and repelling congressional efforts to impose sanctions on his regime. One Bush envoy to Baghad went as far as to describe the tyrant as “a force of moderation.” During Bush’s first year in office, writes Aburish, “the United States continued to supply Iraq with helicopter engines, vacuum pumps for a nuclear plant, sophisticated communications equipment, computers, bacteria strains and hundreds of tons of unrefined Sarin.” Aburish also notes that an influential pro-Iraq business lobby group at the time employed the consulting services of Henry Kissinger’s firm, including Brent Scowcroft and Lawrence Eagleburger, who would soon join the administration.

The first Bush administration’s attitude toward Saddam would drastically change, of course, when the dictator, in a monumental miscalculation, decided to invade Kuwait — a misstep he would later blame on Bush ambassador April Glaspie, whom he was convinced had given him a green light to attack. Gassing his people was one thing, but threatening the West’s oil supplies was quite another. Instead of a force for moderation, now Saddam was the new Hitler. Nonetheless, he was left in power after his military was crushed in the Gulf War. After calling on the Iraqi people to rise up against Saddam, Bush left the brave Kurds and Shiites who responded to the mercies of the dictator — a stunning betrayal dramatized in the 1999 film “Three Kings.” Bush reportedly bowed to the wishes of his Saudi royal friends, who feared that a pro-Iran Shiite-led democracy might emerge from the ashes of Saddam’s regime.

During the Clinton years, some old Bush hands would urge the Democratic administration to do what they had failed to, perhaps out of a nagging sense of guilt, and destroy Saddam. But by then, with the Gulf War coalition coming undone, it was no simple task. And for some Bush administration veterans, commerce was again a higher priority than anti-Saddam vigilance. During the 2000 presidential campaign, Dick Cheney told ABC News that as the head of the oil industry supply firm Halliburton, he had a strict policy against doing any business with Iraq — “even arrangements that were supposedly legal.” And yet, as the Financial Times would later uncover, Cheney’s company actually did over $23 million worth of business with Saddam’s government in 1998 and ’99. As Salon’s Damien Cave observed, Cheney, who made $36 million in salary at Halliburton before being elected vice president, ended up profiting from rebuilding what he had helped destroy as secretary of defense during the Gulf War.

All this history is by way of explaining why when the current President Bush puts on his best West Texas sheriff’s voice and vows that Saddam “will see” what he has coming, as if the Iraqi dictator had just ridden into town looking for trouble instead of being escorted in by the U.S. cavalry, the rest of the world regards it as disingenuous. At this point, not one nation in the world, with the sole exception of Kuwait (for obvious reasons), supports a U.S. invasion of Iraq. Even Tony Blair has cautioned against it. Russia’s Vladimir Putin, in whom Bush has invested so much foreign policy capital, has been particularly outspoken against it, as have the leaders of Saudi Arabia and Turkey, whose cooperation would be essential for such a military action.

The United States’ unsavory history with Iraq, and our allies’ opposition to an invasion, still should not deter us from bringing down Saddam if he can be proved to be the menace to American security and world peace that administration hawks contend he is. (Since the West established a no-fly zone in north and south Iraq, he is no longer the tormentor of his own Kurdish and Shiite people that he once was.) But so far, despite months of talk-show and Op-Ed lobbying by White House proxies like Richard Perle, James Woolsey and Laurie Mylroie, the Bush hard-liners have yet to make their case that Saddam represents a clear and present danger. Polls show that a majority of Americans, still riding on the euphoria of a relatively easy victory in Afghanistan, would back a strike against Saddam. But this support may prove feeble in the actual event of a war — and in any case not even Pentagon hawk Paul Wolfowitz seriously believes that America can go it alone against Iraq, no matter what they’re making Colin Powell say in public. So our allies still need to be persuaded.

The case might be there. I for one am still willing to be convinced. But the media needs to push the White House to lay out its argument in detail, because administration officials can’t depend on Tony Blair to do it for them this time. Bush needs to be told that the evildoer rhetoric no longer suffices. The media needs to stop flapping their electronic flag logos for a moment and ask some tough questions. Let’s start with these:

1) Why is Saddam more dangerous today than he was 11 years ago when President Bush’s father decided to leave him in power?

2) The postwar sanctions and inspections imposed on Saddam did not completely stop him from continuing his doomsday weapons projects, but they did seriously hinder him. Most world leaders advocate escalating the pressure on Saddam to permit U.N. inspectors, who were thrown out in 1998, back into Iraq. Administration officials agree with this but have also announced that this step is doomed to fail so they are already pushing for Step 2, a military invasion. Why would Saddam comply with weapons inspections if the U.S. is already determined to attack him? Shouldn’t Step 1 be given more of a chance to succeed?

3) Despite the administration’s strenuous efforts, no compelling evidence has been found to tie Saddam into the Sept. 11 attacks or last fall’s anthrax terrorism. Why, then, is Iraq being targeted in the war on terrorism?

4) Except for his war on Iran, which was fully supported by the West, and his invasion of Kuwait, which he initially thought was sanctioned by the U.S., Saddam’s atrocities have been confined to his own people. Why should we believe that Saddam, after being soundly defeated in the Gulf War, still has expansionist aims?

5) Saddam is, if nothing else, a survivor in the cunning mode of Stalin. Why would he risk the instant destruction of his regime by attacking the U.S. or Israel with nuclear or biochemical weapons? And with the West on high alert to terrorist threats, would he risk passing on these doomsday weapons to networks like al-Qaida?

6) If Saddam is backed into a corner militarily, however, and feels he has nothing to lose, some knowledgeable observers fear that he might launch a final, desperate doomsday weapons attack on Israel. How can this be prevented?

7) Washington hawks claim that the Afghanistan strategy can be applied to Iraq, with the Iraq National Congress playing the role of the Northern Alliance. But the Iraqi opposition strikes many strategists (including some in the Pentagon) as soft from years of U.S.-subsidized exile, and woefully inexperienced on the battlefield. (The INC’s one military strike against Saddam, in 1995, ended in a disastrous rout.) Until Bush’s axis of evil speech, INC officials were kept at arm’s length from the White House, with one senior administration official dismissing them as “half-assed people who can’t get the president’s ear” and “pissants” who have never “smelled cordite,” according to a December article by the New Yorker’s Seymour Hersh. Why should we have confidence that the INC can defeat Saddam’s military? Would American ground troops have to be put more in harm’s way than they were in Afghanistan?

8) The one group within the loose anti-Saddam coalition that does have plenty of battle experience — mainly from fighting one another — is the Kurds. But, according to a report in this week’s Wall Street Journal, Iraq’s Kurdish population — after years of savage repression and deprivation — has prospered in recent years, thanks to the U.S.-enforced no-fly zone in the country’s north and the billions of dollars of Iraqi oil money that has been funneled to the Kurds under the U.N.-administered oil-for-food program. As a result, they are not eager to plunge back into war and strife. Why should the Kurds take up arms against Saddam again and why should they trust the U.S. this time, when they have been betrayed more than once by Washington?

9) Neighboring countries fear that a war on Iraq would splinter the country and destabilize the region. Turkey fears a Kurdish republic in the north and Saudi Arabia fears a breakaway Shiite state in the south. How can the U.S. assure its allies that a post-Saddam Iraq would not be even more volatile?

10) Is the U.S. prepared to accept a democratic government in Baghdad, even if it is controlled by Shiites and tilts toward anti-American Iran?

11) Given the meddlesome role that the U.S. and its principal ally Britain have historically played in Iraq — as well as Russian concerns that we are mainly interested in usurping their oil concessions in Iraq — how can we reassure the world that we are seeking peace and democracy and not simply the country’s resources?

12) The U.S. has never demonstrated much concern for the health and human rights of the Iraqi people. Why should they believe another American-led war on their country will bring them anything more than further suffering?

The press is filled this week with Bush team tough-talk about Iraq. They’re telling the Los Angeles Times, with their typical swagger, that the Iraq problem is finally going to be “solved,” that “containment” of Saddam is no longer good enough, that the White House is ready to “push beyond the limitations imposed by international sentiment, Arab public opinion and even the original U.N. resolutions that opened the way for Operation Desert Storm 11 years ago.” Dick Cheney is going to lay the plan on them when he visits our Middle East allies next month. And if they or the Euros don’t like it, tough tamales. “At some point,” one administration hard guy informed the New York Times this week, “the Europeans with butterflies in their stomach … will see that they have a bipolar choice: they can get with the plan or get off.”

The United States has been “solving” the Iraq problem pretty much on its own for the past 50 years, with less than satisfactory results. Perhaps what’s needed this time is less swagger and more diplomacy — and yes, though it’s anathema in chest-thumping Washington these days, a worldly sense of the limits of American power. With its vastly superior military prowess, the U.S. could certainly go it alone in Iraq and other battle zones around the world. But do we want to be this exposed and solitary a player on the world stage? There are indeed many sleep-disturbing threats to America today — but one of them is the triumphal hubris that has taken hold of our leadership.

David Talbot

David Talbot is the founder and CEO of Salon.

Using Bush’s playbook

"Karl Rove politics" aren't quite dead: Obama's strategy in 2012 will mirror W's in 2004

George W. Bush and Barack Obama (Credit: Reuters/Larry Downing)

Barack Obama’s presidency was born from nothing so much as his repudiation of George W. Bush’s administration — its policies and politics, its style and tone. One of Obama’s most effective 2008 stump speech refrains was his promise to end the era of “Scooter Libby justice, ‘Brownie’ incompetence and Karl Rove politics.”

But the political dynamics for winning a second presidential term often differ markedly from winning the first. So don’t be surprised by many eerie parallels between Obama’s 2012 reelection bid and Bush’s 2004 campaign. The president may not rely upon “Karl Rove politics” in the strictest sense, and nobody would confuse David Axelrod with Rove. But Obama’s reelection route and rhetoric may bear more than a few Rovian hallmarks.

Now that Mitt Romney has won the Republican nomination, two key features prevail over the 2012 campaign — and both were also plainly evident in 2004. First, the incumbent president’s reelection fortunes are far from certain; and, second, the incumbent faces a decent but nevertheless weak challenger who is further hampered by internal problems within his party’s coalition.

Because incumbents can’t run for reelection promising “change,” and because “hope” during a lingering recession was also off the menu, the Obama campaign’s 2012 theme of  “forward” — a word that often follows “plow,” mind you — was the best available alternative. That said, and substituting the economy for terrorism, Obama is implicitly if not explicitly advancing the same theme Bush did in 2004: America suffered a tough blow, but the situation could have been worse and, more to the point, under my stewardship the nation is steadily regaining its footing.

This counterfactual campaign theme — vote for me not because of what happened, but what might have but didn’t — is a common thread for Bush and Obama. It’s not an uplifting message, but it sufficed in 2004 and Obama is counting on it working again in 2012.

Politics 101 further dictates that when an incumbent’s reelection is in doubt, he must go negative against the challenger. Obama political operatives in the White House and at the Democratic National Committee long ago made it abundantly clear they were willing to do just that. Team Obama may not go negative against Romney to the degree the Bush camp did against John Kerry in 2004. (By mid-summer 2004, 75 percent of Bush’s TV ads were negative attacks on Kerry.) But don’t be surprised if attacks on Romney’s record and even character are plentiful, harsh and relentless. In 2008, America saw candidate Obama’s toothy grin; four years later, expect to see President Obama’s fangs.

Expect the Obama camp to emphasize two major critiques of Romney: that he is a flip-flopper willing to say anything or reverse any position to win; and that he is an economic royalist whose personal and public life suggest a person incapable of understanding the lives and struggles of average Americans. Again — note the unusual parallels with 2004.

Although Romney is a Republican former governor and Kerry was at the time his state’s Democratic junior U.S. senator, the two Massachusetts pols make for similar targets. Each man is an extraordinarily rich preppie and Ivy Leaguer. Each represents the liberal wing of his respective party. Each has shown a propensity for ruining an otherwise valid point with sloppy, backfiring language. And each has a reputation for lacking political spine.

The flip-flop frame is candidate character assassination of the first order. Like the lone negative number in a string of multiplied positives, the critique that nobody can trust any statement or claim made by a politician has the potential to negate every accomplishment or promise. If it sticks, it can be fatal, as Kerry learned in 2004.

Obama and the Democratic National Committee know their electoral history and, sure enough, last November — a year before the election and two full months before a single Iowan had caucused — the DNC released a four-minute “Mitt vs. Mitt” ad and its accompanying website with the damning tag line, “the story of two men trapped in one body.” The site is a brilliant homage to the Bush campaign’s 2004 windsurfer attack ad and the devastating, 11-minute ad the Republican National Committee produced chronicling Kerry’s “evolution” on Iraq.

And then there is what might be called “the Willard factor”: Romney as Richy Rich, the Monopoly Guy with the Bain Capital background and the Swiss bank account. His bio would be political gold to Romney’s opponent any election cycle, but it’s gold-plated platinum in the first full presidential campaign following the biggest economic crisis since the Great Depression, the rise of the Occupy Wall Street movement, and the long overdue national debate over income inequality.

Again, the wealth-personified line of attack mirrors the out-of-touch, Martha’s Vineyard yoke the Bush team put around Kerry’s neck in 2004. Right on cue, in the first public event of his reelection campaign, last week Obama attacked Romney by name and invoked the economic disconnect card with relish. “He sincerely believes that if CEOs and wealthy investors like him make money the rest of us will automatically prosper as well,” said Obama of Romney, adding that “corporations aren’t people – -people are people.” (For the record, Kerry is actually wealthier than Romney, who would become one of the richest men ever to occupy the White House, should he win.)

Obama will also try to shift the national debate toward areas of strength, as Bush did. Historically, this meant the same strategy, but with inverse implications for each party: The so-called mommy party Democrats would encourage voters to focus on more favorable kitchen-table economy issues — healthcare, jobs, education — and away from less favorable “daddy party” Republican issues surrounding foreign wars abroad and culture wars. Because Obama is net-positive in foreign policy approval and net-negative on the economy, rather than mirroring by inversion, Obama will try to duplicate Bush’s shift-in-emphasis in 2004. GOP complaints that Obama is politicizing the killing of Osama bin Laden reveal Republican fears that Obama is going to play the terrorism card in 2012 just like Bush did eight years ago.

The 2004 parallels extend beyond message. Obama will be amply resourced and enjoy a field technology by virtue of his campaign’s state-of-the-art Web, donor, volunteer and social media innovations. Remember the Bush reelection campaign’s vaunted “72-hour” voter turnout model? That seems like an Edsel compared to the Ferrari the Obama team will be sporting this summer and fall. Among the perquisites modern presidential incumbents enjoy is the option to test-drive the best mobilization machines before anyone else.

Finally, what most connects Obama 2012 to Bush 2004 is the stability of the electoral map itself. Only three states — two net to Bush — flipped from one party to the other between 2000 and 2004; only nine states flipped between 2004 and 2008. Split the difference and a good, back-of-the-napkin over-under for number of states likely to flip between 2008 and 2012 is six. And thus, like the lead sailboat during a windless race, Obama doesn’t need or want conditions to change much from 2008: He merely has to replicate the map that swept him into office, with the burden of figuring out how to shake up the Electoral College falling to Romney, just as it did for Kerry against Bush. Even Karl Rove’s mapping of the 2012 election concedes this reality.

The 2008 election was memorable; to borrow the title of one best-selling chronicle, it was a “game changer.” But 2012 will not be. In many respects, it will be a game repeater, with Obama playing Bush to Romney’s Kerry of 2004. The president may be asking Americans to look “forward” in 2012, but the best preview of his reelection campaign can be found by looking backward eight years.

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The Bushies are back

Missed the neocons? Don't worry: Mitt Romney's getting the band together again

(Credit: Reuters/Win McNamee)

There was good reason for Republicans to cry foul over the Obama campaign’s advertisement highlighting the president’s killing of Osama bin Laden; the GOP has lost its decades-long edge on national security. According to a Washington Post poll, “By a margin of more than 2 to 1, Americans say the president’s handling of terrorism is a major reason to support rather than oppose his bid for reelection.”

Republicans lost their popularity on security issues for one reason: George W. Bush’s foreign policy was a disaster. And yet, the party’s nominee, Mitt Romney, has assembled a foreign-policy team composed almost exclusively of individuals with the same war-always mentality and ideology that served Bush — and the United States — so poorly. In some cases, the exact same men responsible for Bush’s catastrophic national security policies are advising Romney. The former Massachusetts governor could have included some of the pragmatists and realists from the George H.W. Bush administration. Instead, a Romney presidency seems like it would be Bush 43 all over again.

Richard Grenell, who served as United Nations spokesman under Bush, may be gone from the Romney campaign after an uproar over his sexuality, but there are plenty more former Bushies. First off, there are Romney’s “special advisors.” There’s Michael Chertoff, W.’s Homeland Security director. Chertoff oversaw DHS’s failures during Hurricane Katrina, and amassed unprecedented powers of secrecy. Next up is Eliot Cohen, counselor to the State Department for Bush’s last two years and on the Defense Policy Advisory Board for the president’s entire term. Cohen was an adamant supporter of the Iraq War and advised Bush directly on the issue. Or take Cofer Black, the man who infamously said to Bush in September 2011 about al-Qaida that “When we’re through with them they will have flies walking across their eyeballs.” Black went on to become chairman of Blackwater, where he resigned after the company illegally bribed Iraqi officials.

Then there are the 13 “working groups” composed of equally worrisome individuals. The Middle East and North Africa Working Group is co-chaired by Bush’s Assistant Secretary of Defense Mary Beth Long, and Meghan O’Sullivan, Bush’s special assistant and deputy national security advisor for Iraq and Afghanistan. The remaining co-chair is Walid Phares, who never worked for Bush but advised Lebanese warlords in the 1980s. Romney has reportedly promised Phares a top job in his administration, despite his virulently anti-Islamic views.

All told, Romney lists 37 holdovers from the George W. Bush administration — the very same administration he and all other Republican candidates barely referenced during their many debates because it was so discredited and toxic, even to the Republican base.

It didn’t have to be this way. There are, in fact, people in Republican circles who are sensible on international affairs. The Cato Institute, in particular, has experts that could dramatically change the direction of American foreign policy. Men like Justin Logan and Christopher Preble were prescient on Iraq and a host of other issues. Similarly, the Center for the National Interest (formerly the Nixon Center) has a host of solid scholars, including ones like Dimitri Simes and Geoffrey Kemp, who have valuable government experience in the Nixon and Reagan administrations, respectively, and a history of perceptive analysis. Richard Haass, president of the Council on Foreign Relations, would have been another good pick.

So why aren’t guys like this being tapped? Why is the GOP sticking with a discredited foreign-policy approach rather that looking to its own past for wiser counsel? “Most of the realists and pragmatists have simply been driven out of the Republican Party,” says Stephen Walt, who writes a blog at Foreign Policy and teaches at Harvard. “The neoconservatives have been driving the agenda since Bush was elected and they remain well-entrenched.”

Another factor is that the Republican Party’s base remains strongly militaristic and reluctant to recognize limits on American power. Jon Huntsman’s failed presidential campaign illustrated that problem. The good news is that nobody seems to be calling for nation-building and occupying foreign countries in the mold of Iraq and Afghanistan. But that’s the only lesson that seems to have been learned from the last decade of foreign-policy debacles.

Finally, it may just be that the United States has too much power to change course. While the Unites States has undoubtedly made disastrous decisions in the last decades, it is so powerful that it is largely insulated from the consequences of them. If Romney’s foreign-policy advisor list is anything to go by, a Romney administration would have to teach the U.S. all over again about the problems with trying to police the world. Prepare for Bush redux.

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Jordan Michael Smith writes about U.S. foreign policy for Salon. He has written for the New York Times, Boston Globe and Washington Post.

Bush aide blasts torture

Philip Zelikow tried to warn Bush on interrogations. Now he's penned an authoritative article on how he was ignored

(Credit: Reuters/Jim Young)

The Bush administration hasn’t heard the last from Philip Zelikow. After the rediscovery last week of his long lost 2006 anti-torture memo, Zelikow, a former State Department official, has written arguably the most damning article yet about U.S. government’s interrogation policies from 2001 to 2009. The article, called “Codes of Conduct for a Twilight War,” will be released in a forthcoming issue of the Houston Law Journal, and was obtained exclusively by Salon. Says Zelikow in an email: “I’m not aware of other accounts that combine historical, policy and legal approaches to” the subject of the Bush administration’s interrogation methods.

Based on published histories and his firsthand observations, and adapted from a lecture delivered in November, the article calls the administration’s rationale for its use of torture — which he nonetheless insists only on calling “extreme interrogation” and “coercive methods” — “radical,” “an amazing contention,” “untenable and extreme,” “unsustainable,” “an unprecedented program of coolly calculated dehumanizing abuse and physical torment,” and, finally, simply a “mistake.” He concludes: “This was a collective failure of American public leadership, in which a number of officials and members of Congress (and staffers) of both parties played a part, endorsing a CIA program of physical coercion without any precedent in U.S. history.”  In fact, “The only defense against criminal prosecution would be that officials acted in good faith reliance on the advice of their government lawyers.”

Part of what makes Zelikow’s analysis so damning and definitive is its judiciousness. The article is deeply empathetic of the uniquely fearful situation under which the Bush administration was initially operating. Zelikow calls the Sept. 11 attacks a “collective trauma” and a “shoc[k] to mass beliefs.” He notes that Bush and others spent time in burn units, morgues and with survivors of the attacks. One traumatic experienced often overlooked — overlooked because it appeared in Stephen Hayes’ stenographic biography of Dick Cheney — was that the vice-president’s daughter was (falsely, it turns out) told that her house with her children in it had tested positive for anthrax. Similarly, Cheney and National Security Advisor Condoleezza Rice were told that they and others had been exposed to an extremely lethal toxin in a particular area of the White House — and might soon die as a result. “The alarms did not stop and they too were not abstract … The pressure on Bush and his senior advisers was so direct because so much of the response had to be invented and improvised,” the article reads.

An additional factor in the power of the article is Zelikow’s credibility and history. Before entering government, he was a civil rights lawyer in Texas battling the Ku Klux Klan and then a highly esteemed Harvard historian specializing in U.S. foreign policy — he co-authored one book with Rice. He then served on the National Security Council under President George H.W. Bush and directed the 9/11 Commission before becoming counselor to Rice at the State Department from 2005 to 2007. He currently volunteers part-time on the President’s Intelligence Advisory Board under President Obama.

Such bipartisan, establishment credentials render the breakdown and conclusion of this article all the more damning. He believes that what should have been a political and moral question — should the United States torture captives? — became strictly a legal matter left up to government lawyers, few of whom had any experience with these issues, and who had to take the necessity of extreme measures as a given. “These lawyers then became secular priests, granting absolution to the supplicant policymakers,” Zelikow writes.

The problems began when the Office of the Vice President and the CIA took central roles in policymaking. Cheney felt himself above the rest of the National Security Council, bypassing Rice and other traditional channels of national security policymaking. Ad-hoc decision-making and improvisation became “a habit of thought,” which seemed initially to pay off in the security of the nation, as well as in Bush’s political standing and self-confidence.

With Cheney and CIA head George Tenet “the key entrepreneurs in setting codes of conduct for the War on Terror,” it was essentially left to their obsequious lawyers to decide, in secret, on the interrogation methods America should employ. Bush even told the Senate’s Intelligence Committee chairman that “the vice president should be your point of contact … [He] has the portfolio for intelligence activities.” Decisions were made to jettison international treaties. By December 2001, the CIA was already interested in reverse-engineering methods “heretofore used only to treat Americans to resist enemy torture.” When a senior al-Qaida member was captured in March 2002, the prototype for the administration’s torture policies was already developed. “So, for the first time in American history, leaders of the U.S. government carefully devised ways and means to torment enemy captives.”

Zelikow notes that “None of the policy or moral issues connected with these choices appear to have been analyzed in any noticeable way.” Perhaps worst of all, no serious consideration was given to weighing the costs of benefits of the torture program, with reference to relevant historical precedents and/or examinations of the respective French, British and Israeli experiences in dealing with captured terrorists. “Bush and Rice should have insisted on this,” Zelikow writes.

The 52-page article observes the successes of Obama’s counterterrorism policies after repudiating the use of torture. On the basis of the empirical evidence then, “[t]here is no evident correlations between intelligence success and the available of extreme interrogation methods,” no matter what Bush and Cheney claim. Finally, “The program’s costs — which include the high-level effort expended in order to establish, maintain, and defense the program — appear on the evidence so far to have well outweighed any unique value the program might have had as a method of counterterrorism intelligence collection.” This is apart from the damage to America’s international standing and corrosion of its traditional values.

Zelikow concludes his analysis by arguing that, although the Obama administration has the right to wage war and use extralegal methods to defeat al-Qaida, its claim of that authority to defeat “associated forces” is unwarranted. “The U.S. government should publish and explain any overarching policy and legal documents that guide and confine the conduct of deadly operation against its foreign enemies … the executive branch of the U.S. government has a duty to articulate the scope of its warfare to the Congress and the public.” The Bush administration’s unprecedented elevation of torture to national policy may be history, but the job to get U.S. foreign policy in line with its constitutional and moral obligations is far from over.

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Jordan Michael Smith writes about U.S. foreign policy for Salon. He has written for the New York Times, Boston Globe and Washington Post.

Thomas Kinkade, the George W. Bush of art

The rise and fall of Thomas Kinkade, the Painter of Light™ in a decade of bad faith

News of Thomas Kinkade’s death arrived on the same day I received in the mail a vintage teacup on which I had spent a ridiculous amount of money. It has a cottage painted on it. Kinkade, whose work has long exerted a morbid fascination for me (to the concern of all my friends), specialized in cottages. So some part of me understands the appeal, I guess, but, damn: Those paintings make my corneas hurt. And yet, I could barely stop looking at them.

Kinkade was only 54, and his family told the media that he died of “natural causes.” This comes after years of reports of drunken public misbehavior: cursing at people who tried to save him from falling off bar stools, heckling Siegfried & Roy, grabbing a woman’s breasts at a publicity event and, most memorably, urinating on a Winnie the Pooh statue at the Disneyland Hotel while proclaiming, “This one’s for you, Walt!” There were DUI arrests. Also, his manufacturing company declared bankruptcy two years ago, and former franchisees of the once-ubiquitous Thomas Kinkade Signature Galleries won settlements against him for fraud.

That’s quite a fall for a man who frequently spoke of his Christian faith and family values when asked to comment on the mammoth success of his brand in the early 2000s. “When I got saved, God became my art agent,” Kinkade explained in a 2004 video. He went from a childhood in Placerville, Calif. (invariably characterized as “hard-scrabble”) to an apprenticeship selling his work in supermarket parking lots to his apotheosis as the nation’s “most profitable” artist, the Painter of Light™, and multimillionaire. He was profiled in the New Yorker by Susan Orlean.

I first learned about the dark side of the Painter of Light™ — sorry, couldn’t resist that one — when I reviewed “his” novel, “Cape Light,” in 2002. The novel, first in a series, was produced much as his paintings are: by a semi-industrial process in which low-level apprentices embellish a prefab base provided by Kinkade. He wasn’t the only artist to work in this way; he wasn’t even the only novelist. To the best of my knowledge, his novels — heartwarming, fuzzily pious tales of small-town life — have been coming out ever since, one more facet of a lifestyle brand that, at its most ambitious, included an entire Thomas Kinkade-themed housing development.

My review was just a goof intended to amuse Salon’s readers, but after it appeared, I began to receive emails from people who had sunk their life savings in Thomas Kinkade Signature Galleries (essentially, mall and shopping-district outlets for his prints) and been fleeced. I didn’t really understand how the financial architecture of Kinkade’s gallery empire worked, and I sure didn’t share their taste in wall art, but these people struck me as decent and sincere. They’d believed in Thomas Kinkade — not just in the man or the company, but in the ethos supposedly represented by his work, one in which (to quote Kinkade’s introduction to “Cape Light”) “people have the time to savor life’s simple pleasures” and lead “deep, satisfying lives.”

My conversations with these victims made me uneasy. Was there some relationship between the franchisees’ naivete, perhaps even their willful self-delusion, and their terrible taste? Was it hopelessly snobby to wonder that? What about Kinkade himself? He seemed to be at best a hypocrite and at worst a crook. Was there a meaningful connection between his bad conscience and his bad art? German thinkers of the 1930s would have said so, and they had plenty of opportunity to observe bad fascist art up close. Hermann Broch maintained that someone who chooses to make kitsch is “ethically depraved, a criminal willing radical evil.” The novelist Milan Kundera believes kitsch to be the natural expression of totalitarianism. That’s a lot of moral weight to place on a bunch of garish cottage paintings, but Kinkade was always the first to present his work as a form of ideology.

I felt compassion for the ripped-off gallery operators, and at the same time I was aware that quite a few of them had probably also fallen for the similarly sanctimonious, bogus folksiness of George W. Bush, thereby subjecting our nation to one of the worst presidents in its history. Kinkade and Bush struck me as of a piece, probably because they had both borrowed from Ronald Reagan in promising that we could get back to a better way of life that never existed in the first place. In nearly every encounter with the press, Kinkade delivered a diatribe against the art-world “establishment” that had shut him out. They were “elites” touting unfathomable, downer junk to hardworking people who needed uplift instead. Art snobs were the aesthetic counterparts of the so-called liberal elites, a group that surely included me.

At the same time, I must admit that I, too, like a cottage. Granted, I like the stylized, art-deco kind painted on bone china, rather than the insanely detailed and phosphorescently lit specimens in Kinkade’s pictures. And I’m in little danger of equating my new teacup with a Brancusi just because it’s cheerier. Nevertheless, I suspect that my idea of what’s pleasing about a cottage isn’t too different from that of Kinkade’s fans: an aura of harmless coziness, of modest domestic beauty and comfort not too cut off from the past. It’s as if we’re speaking the same word, but in different languages.

I suspect this is why Kinkade’s paintings have exerted their weird, hypnotic effect on me. They are so preposterous (especially the stream-side ones; he really needed to sit down with an architect and go over the basics of drainage), so awful. And yet I can still detect — beneath that cacophony of hollyhocks and cobblestones and snapdragons — the whisper of something intelligible. I’m pretty sure I know why the hordes of Kinkade collectors love his work, even if I don’t like it myself. Kinkade’s paintings are irredeemably false, like all kitsch, but through them you can just barely glimpse the honest desires they seek to exploit, sinking under the dreck.

Kundera defined kitsch as “the absolute denial of shit,” meaning it offers an airbrushed, sterilized, sentimentalized view of the world. From that, it doesn’t necessarily follow that art wallows in shit, but art doesn’t exist for the primary purpose of denying it, either. Kitsch is, first and foremost, a lie; its very existence is founded on bad faith.

Kinkade, like Bush, peddled a falsely simplified image of the world — one without mildew or flooded basements, for one thing — which, no surprise, turned out to be plastered over a whole lot of stinky stuff. The true believers, the ones who bought into these men the most during the 2000s, ended up paying some of the highest prices, from the Kinkade acolytes who invested in his gallery Ponzi scheme to the working-class red-staters who sent off their kids to die in a pointless war. Bad taste, harmless as it may seem, can end up costing you a lot.

Further reading

Los Angeles Times obituary for Thomas Kinkade

Susan Orlean’s 2001 profile of Thomas Kinkade for the New Yorker

A 2006 Los Angeles Times story documenting Kinkade’s business problems

Salon’s Janelle Brown visits Hiddenbrooke, a Kinkade-theme housing development in Northern California

Laura Miller reviews “Cape Light,” a novel by Thomas Kinkade and Katherine Spencer

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Laura Miller

Laura Miller is a senior writer for Salon. She is the author of "The Magician's Book: A Skeptic's Adventures in Narnia" and has a Web site, magiciansbook.com.

The memo Bush tried to destroy

A document advising the Bush administration against torture has resurfaced, despite his best efforts to hide it

George W. Bush in 2006 (Credit: AP/Ron Edmonds)

In February of 2006, Philip Zelikow, counselor to Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice, authored a memo opposing the Bush administration’s torture practices (though he employed the infamous obfuscation of “enhanced interrogation techniques”). The White House tried to collect and destroy all copies of the memo, but one survived in the State Department’s bowels and was declassified yesterday in response to a Freedom of Information Act request by the National Security Archive.

The memo argues that the Convention Against Torture, and the Constitution’s prohibitions against cruel and unusual punishment, do indeed apply to the CIA’s use of “waterboard[ing], walling, dousing, stress positions, and cramped confinement.” Zelikow further wrote in the memo that “we are unaware of any precedent in World War II, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, or any subsequent conflict for authorized, systematic interrogation practices similar to those in question here, even when the prisoners were presumed to be unlawful combatants.” According to the memo, the techniques are legally prohibited, even if there is a compelling state interest to justify them, since they should be considered cruel and unusual punishment and “shock the conscience.”

Chillingly, the memo notes that “corrective techniques, such as slaps,” may be legally sustained, as might be “[C]ontrol conditions, such as nudity, sleep deprivation, and liquid diets…depending on the circumstances and details of how these techniques are used.” However much distress Zelikow’s memo caused the White House, it was not an ACLU briefing paper.

“I’m pleased the memo is now part of the historical record and available for study,” Zelikow wrote Salon in an email. The White House had determined that the memo — which was not binding since Zelikow’s was a bureaucratic position without legal authority — was too dangerous to exist. “I later heard the memo was not considered appropriate for further discussion and that copies of my memo should be collected and destroyed,” he said in a May 2009 congressional hearing.

At that hearing, before the Senate Committee on the Judiciary, Subcommittee on Administrative Oversight and the Courts, Zelikow said he had “no view on whether former officials should be prosecuted,” a decision he thinks should be left to “institutions.” However, he did call for a thorough inquiry and a public report examining how the U.S. came to employ torture.

Of course, no such inquiry was ever launched. The Obama administration declined to revisit the U.S. employment of torture, with the president saying he didn’t want to “look back.” Zelikow believes this was a mistake. “I still believe an inquiry would be useful, though less so as time passes and more information becomes available, especially after the 9/11 trials conclude, hopefully this year,” he says in an email.

During his congressional testimony, Zelikow declined to say whether Department of Justice lawyers acted improperly or immorally, conceding only that their opinions were “unsound, even unreasonable.” But in a 2007 lecture in Houston, he had no problem saying “the cool, carefully considered, methodical, prolonged, and repeated subjection of captives to physical torment, and the accompanying psychological terror, is immoral.”

The importance of the memo lies in its revelation that there was real, serious debate inside the Bush administration about how to interrogate captured terrorist suspects. The members of the White House declined to enter that debate — indeed, they did their best to squash it. The destruction of Zelikow’s carefully reasoned memo suggests the White House did not want any record of alternative views even existing, lest they be considered reasonable or people get the idea that the torture policies were thought controversial even by members of the administration.

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Jordan Michael Smith writes about U.S. foreign policy for Salon. He has written for the New York Times, Boston Globe and Washington Post.

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