April 19, 2020
A Little Nostalgia

Cleaning up my files, I came across this long piece the other day. It seems to date from shortly after the 1984 campaign, during which I wrote speeches for Mondale. There are certain similarities between the 80s and today, and so here are my thoughts of those days, for whatever relevance they may have to our present plight:
Now Ronald Reagan has beaten the Democrats twice — not because he was an elephant, but because he had done such a good job of looking like a donkey.

Most foreigners could no more tell a Democrat from a Republican than they could distinguish between the male and the female of the Galapagos tortoise. But just as the tortoises are able to sort themselves out, so can we Americans. In the narrow mainstream of our politics, ranging from kind-of-far right to pretty-far right, the Democrats are the liberals and the Republicans are the conservatives. Whatever those labels mean.

The standard way to tell a liberal from a conservative is that the liberal is an optimist, while the conservative is a pessimist. The liberal imagines that the world can be changed for the better. The conservative imagines that it can’t. He examines his own navel and, mistaking it for a universal one, concludes that very little can be expected of mankind …

Others must be as ready to attack him as he is to attack them, and so praise the Lord and pass the ammunition. Government is bound to be organized theft, so that the only remaining question for the intelligent man is who gets robbed. Liberated woman would prove to be no better than liberated man has been, and thus, in the interest of reducing the general level of mischief, she should be kept barefoot in the winter and pregnant in summer.
Only a sucker would believe that faith could move mountains, but greed will do the job just fine. Look at the beheaded mountains in the coal country of West Virginia. The mark of Cain is on all of us, and we are none of us any better than we should be. “In Adam’s fall,” as the New England Primer said, “we sinnčd all.

These things being so, the path of history must lead downward, and it would be useless to stand in the way of this general decline. About the best a good conservative can hope for is to preserve the status quo; the absolute best would be to turn back the clock for a few moments, so as briefly to recapture some luminous and generally imaginary status quo ante.

In his most usual guise, then, the conservative is full of gloom and pessimism. He knows our sloth will drive us to bankruptcy, our lust to licence; our anger to war; our envy to civil unrest, our covetousness to crime; our pride to a fall, and our gluttony to a triple by-pass.

The point is not whether this view is correct. The point, politically, is whether such pessimism is appealing.

Someone with a more favorable view of mankind’s capacities — someone, in other words, more liberal — might indeed think that the voters were up to hearing a few unpleasant truths. Carter and Mondale seemed to have thought the country was mature enough for a little castor oil, at any rate. In Carter’s world the oil was running out and the American century was over before it had really begun. His was a complicated world that required careful planning to manage.

Nor was Mondale’s world a cheerful one. It, too, required planning and discipline if we were to cope with Reagan’s deficits while at the same time restoring fairness to American life.

Their faith that the voters could grasp these concepts was essentially liberal in its optimism about the human condition. And it was essentially misplaced, as the country showed both men on election day.

But the concepts themselves grew out of a pessimism that was essentially conservative. Things were going to hell in a handbasket, Mondale and Carter were saying, and about all an honest man could do about it was promise to do his best to slow our descent.

Reagan didn’t seem to see the world this way at all. In Mondale’s America, as the Republican commercials said, it was always April 15; but in Reagan’s it was always the Fourth of July. More by temperament than by design Reagan ran as an optimist. He ran, that is, as a Democrat.

His issues may have been traditional Republican ones, but again this misses the political point. If you campaign in poetry but govern in prose, as Governor Cuomo likes to say, then Reagan’s poetry was Democratic.

And he stole it openly from the Democratic Party. The bands at his rallies played “Happy Days Are Here Again.” Reagan adopted Roosevelt and Truman as Republican saints, and it worked; he sounded more like a Democrat than Mondale or Carter did.

He talked about tomorrow with the cheerful optimism of the Happy Warrior, Hubert Humphrey; he talked about America’s role in the world with the mindless, adolescent macho of the early Kennedy; he offered guns and butter with the fiscal abandon of Lyndon Johnson.

In fact he made Johnson and those other Democrats look like pikers. They wanted to tax and spend; by 1984 it was clear that all Reagan wanted to do was spend. He was the Peter Pan of politics, never growing up and settling down. He was the grasshopper and the Democrats were the ants. Never mind what he actually said; after four years, everybody knew he didn’t mean it anyway. What he actually was, in both races, was the Democrat.

But how could he be the Democrat when he opposed virtually every social measure the Democrats had passed, over the years and over his dead body? Reagan’s trick was to go the Democrats one better. He said we had once had all these good things for nothing, and we could have them again for the same price.

Cut red tape and the mighty engine of American industry will provide jobs for all. Cut funds for libraries and some new Carnegie will rebuild them. Cut taxes and revenues will go up. Cut forests and you cut air pollution.

Reagan offered no-fault government to the Me Generation and to their parents, who often enough were vagabonding around in their RVs with messages like “I’m Spending My Children’s Inheritance” on the bumpers. (The message on their children’s BMWs was likely to read, “The One Who Dies with the Most Toys Wins.” The apple, as the French say, doesn’t fall far from the tree.)

The old folks liked it that Reagan, old folks himself, stood foursquare for God, the nuclear family, enforced pregnancy to term, creationism, prayer in schools, heterosexuality between married adults, the death penalty, and equal rights for whites —none of which would cost a nickel in taxes.

And the young folks understood that he didn’t mean it anyway. All this boring stuff had to be just talk. After all, he came out of Hollywood. He seldom went to church. He was twice married. He saw little of his kids. He was a movie star. No way he could really mean those terrible things he kept saying about what had been, after all, his own lifestyle.

In his 1986 State of the Union message, Reagan gave Congress an unusually explicit (for poetry) statement of his view that progress is just a question of retracing our footsteps:

“Never has there been a more exciting time to be alive, a time of rousing wonder and heroic achievement. As they said in the film, Back to the Future: ‘Where we’re going, we don’t need roads.’ Well, today, physicists peering into the infinitely small realms of the subatomic particles find reaffirmations of religious faith; astronomers build a space telescope that can see to the edge of the universe and, possibly, back to the moment of creation … We are going forward with our shuttle flights. We are going forward to build our space station, and we are going forward with research on a new Orient Express that could, by the end of the next decade, take off from Dulles Airport, accelerate up to 25 times the speed of sound, attaining low-earth orbit or flying to Tokyo within two hours. And the same technology transforming our lives can solve the greatest problem of the 20th Century. A security shield can one day render nuclear weapons obsolete and free mankind from the prison of nuclear terror.”

It’s all there. Magical time machines to take us back to the glorious 1950s. White-coated scientists ranging out in front of the rest of us and stumbling over, of all the darned things, proof of God and His creation of the world. Trips to the exotic east with Sidney Greenstreet and the gang in a sure-enough time capsule, this one so fast that you arrive hours before you started out.

And the same science that gave us the space shuttle will soon give us Star Wars — a warm and woolly security blanket to keep us safe from the bogeyman. Never mind that the space shuttle itself just blew up a few weeks ago and that the majority of graduate engineering students in America are foreign exchange students. Where we’re going, we don’t need roads.

That all this stuff is nonsense doesn’t matter, any more than it matters that the poem “Xanadu” doesn’t make much sense, either. They both invite us not to think, but to dream.

And Reagan’s dreams are appealing. Where Carter and Mondale offered self-improvement, self-criticism, and self-discipline, like a couple of country club conservatives advising the lower classes to pull themselves up by their bootstraps, Reagan offered a parasite’s paradise.

His message, which he lived as well as preached, was just what a childish nation longed to hear:

“Don’t worry, be happy.”


Posted by Jerome Doolittle at April 19, 2020 06:00 PM
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Comment on NYtimes.com today:
"I am an infectious diseases physician and am enraged. What these "protestors" are doing is akin to arson. Arson endangers communiities and the lives of firefighters . These "protestestors" are exposing themselves and their communities to a virulent virus that is highly contagious and lethal. Besides endangering themselves, their older or sick relatives (i.e. their older parents and grandparents), they needlessly endanger their community at large and the health care workers who will be taking care of them when they inevitably get sick. Call them what they are: Infection Arsonists."

Posted by: on April 20, 2020 1:46 PM

NY Times comment on golfers sneaking onto golf courses:

If golfers can go out, why not ATV'es, runners, trail bikers and whatever land destroying activity freaks who also could have fun. The courses destroy Florida wetlands and natural habitats so why not have at it? Help bring back nature kids! If it's a Trump course even better. Have at it kids!

Posted by: bp on April 24, 2020 2:09 PM
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