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"Say
What?"
by
P.M. Carpenter
Not
since the Johnson-Nixon era has an American president's credibility
been so abysmal. Persistent lies about foreign policy -- how we got
into Vietnam, why we were staying in and how we were faring militarily
and politically -- forced early retirement on a discredited LBJ.
Even Lyndon had had enough, already. And though Richard Nixon ran
with experts when it came to foreign policy fibs, the fatuous cover-up
of domestic misdemeanors chiefly strangled his credibility and finally
sent him packing.
Assuming
presidential history is still taught in some high schools, the above,
I imagine, is at least the bare minimum that most students are asked
to retain into adulthood: Johnson...Vietnam...lies...downfall; Nixon...Watergate...lies....downfall.
Future history students, however, shall have an even easier time
of it when asked to recall the gist of George W. Bush's downfall:
He lied about everything.
Historical
simplicity, which inattentive high schoolers and 43 himself love
so much, is usually easy to complicate. But Bush is laying such a
chronically recidivist path of policy misrepresentations and deliberate
deceit, he is making retrospective clarity -- the holy historical
grail -- possible. As growing majorities throughout the world find
Bush truly in-credible, his credibility gap also expands at home.
If it continues to swell into 2004 ... well, that is why half the
Democratic Party can be found only in Iowa and New Hampshire these
days.
One
could start tracking the president's in-credibility trail by ticking
off the many policy bait and switches committed in short transitional
order, from campaign Bush to Oval Office Bush, but limited space
prevents. Let it suffice that for the already suspicious as well
as the unsuspecting, early and abrupt reversals of advertised policy
laid bare that this president's interest in credibility would take
a back seat to his hard-right, almost childlike, ideology.
Yet
as it turns out, those were the good old days. Compared to the president's
erratic course of the last few months, Bush II's Phase I was a model
of political chastity. The White House has now abandoned even the
pretense of critical logic and thoughtful moderation -- in a word,
credibility -- on both domestic and foreign policy. The nation and
the world find themselves captive to the mysterious fixations of
the president's mental rigor mortis.
At
home, Bush's 5-volume projected budget reads like an advanced study
in fiscal suicide. While the budget excludes little line items such
as the cost of war in Iraq, the cost of rebuilding Iraq, the cost
of military operations in Afghanistan and the cost of future tax
changes, the White House still casually tells us to expect a bit
of revenue shortfall over the next 5 years -- roughly, let's say,
oh, somewhere in the neighborhood of around $1.1 trillion. What goes
to credibility, however, is that 2 years ago the White House puffed
the Laffer-ble prediction that its fiscal policies would ensure a
1.5-trillion-dollar surplus, especially, of course, since it was
slashing revenues.
Even
more to the issue of credibility, Bush, in last year's State of the
Union address, proclaimed that the "budget will run a deficit that
will be small and short lived." To refresh, that came after the administration
began realizing terrorism's fiscal impact, during a recession's negative-revenue
effects, and during the administration's sights-setting on Iraq (the
ultimate costs of which have been estimated at anywhere from $120
billion to $2 trillion).
As
for foreign policy credibility? Face it, George: When French criticism
starts making sense, you know you're soupe.
The
president has buck-and-winged around the putative inexorable logic
of war to the point of global ridicule and contempt. If it is Monday
and the sun is shining, Bush calls the world to arms because Saddam
is a despotic barbarian; if Tuesday and cloudy, because the swarthy
rodent possesses wicked WMDs. Given other days of the week and climate
conditions, we are exhorted to pounce militarily because Saddam is
in league with al Qaeda; he might be in league with al Qaeda; he
might opt to be in league with al Qaeda; he has an unhealthy interest
in chemistry; he is, by implication, the only national leader in
defiance of a United Nations resolution; Colin Powell has a photo
collection; and so on, and so on. If one motive fails to catch fire
with the public, the White House simply trots out another. A single
motive or consistent combination of motives might have inspired,
but the White House's hysterical explanations de jour have
only managed to eviscerate the one essential of broad-based war-making
support: credibility.
But
then again, the White House could hardly air the fundamental reasons
behind its martial spirit: that war is a dandy distraction from carrying
out domestic policies contrary to good sense, and that the administration
harbors a fanatical band of jingoistic ideologues who have wet-dreamed
of this war since Papa wimped out in 1991. At a Camp David meeting
just four days after al Qaeda's deadly assault of 9/11, for example,
testosterone-pumped Donald Rumsfeld piped up with, "Is this the time
to attack Iraq?" Note his use of the definite article, "the" time.
Once a pretext availed, the fix was in.
One
of the many potentially tragic repercussions from Bush & Co.'s
credibility abyss is wholesale public cynicism in the event of an
actual threat. Code red? Will anyone be more alert? The boy from
Crawford has cried wolf so often, next time -- "the" time -- perhaps
no one will listen.
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