Recently in The Twenties Category
"'I was born in 1941, the year they bombed Pearl Harbor. I've been living in darkness ever since,' Dylan said to introduce the song, or as a goodbye, or, as he hadn't spoken before, as a hello. 'But it looks like things are going to change now.' At the end of the stage he stepped out from behind his electric organ and did a jig."
Thus was the freewheelin' Bob Dylan's happy reaction to Obama's election Tuesday night. (As you may remember, he publicly backed the senator in June.) For many others, including yours truly, the feeling of the evening might best be summed up by one of Dylan's esteemed contemporaries, Leonard Cohen: "Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Halleloooooojah!"
For the first time since 1994, we have a Democratic president and a safely Democratic Congress. For the first time since 1964, we have a Democratic president entering office with a commanding mandate from the people. For the first time since...well, ever, we've reaffirmed our founding principles by choosing an African-American to lead us into the future.
I don't want to overplay the "first black president" thing, because that's not at all why we chose Sen. Obama. Still it must be said: With this election, we have shown the world -- and ourselves -- anew that the American ideal isn't just a convenient myth, but a vision of the good that many of us still aspire to create every day. In the words of Cornel West, "To understand your country, you must love it. To love it, you must, in a sense, accept it. To accept it as how it is, however is to betray it. To accept your country without betraying it, you must love it for that in it which shows what it might become. America - this monument to the genius of ordinary men and women, this place where hope becomes capacity, this long, halting turn of the no into the yes, needs citizens who love it enough to reimagine and remake it." And so we have, in a way the founders of our American experiment 221 years ago could barely have imagined.
Meanwhile, even with crooks like Ted Stevens and Norm Coleman still floating for the moment, our old friends the Republicans are now not only in full rout, but appear to be set to tear each other's throats out in assigning blame for their repudiation at the polls. (Expect several further symposia of conservative hand-wringing, and a lot more intraparty shivving, along the lines of "Palin thinks Africa is a country," in the weeks to come.) This gang will regroup -- they always do -- but for now the GOP has enough problems of their own to keep them busy. And, whatever ever they manage to accomplish as the loyal(?) opposition, it seems a safe bet that the Conservative Era that began with the defeat of Barry Goldwater in 1964 has now officially coughed up its last in 2008, with the defeat of fellow Arizonan John McCain.
By the way, also joining the Republicans on the road to oblivion Tuesday night, alas, was my old laptop, a victim of post-return celebratory spillage. (Jamesons: Good for Jimmy McNulty and jubliant Dems, Bad for computer hardware in and around the television area.) Normally, inadvertently frying my growing-ancient-but-generally-reliable PC would've completely ruined my day. As it was, I took the news about like Baxter eating the whole wheel of cheese: "How'd you do that? Heck, I'm not even mad; that's amazing." (And, fortunately, the hard drive, and the dissertoral files therein, were salvageable regardless.)
One much more depressing skeleton at the feast Tuesday night, about which Ted at Gideonse Bible, Chris at DYFL, and others have written eloquently: the passage of the idiotic Proposition 8 in California, which seemingly won with quite a bit of help from first-time Obama voters. It's irredeemably sad not only that a day that saw so much progress was marred by Prop 8 and its like around the country, but that so many of the voters who helped strike a fatal blow against enduring racial prejudice at the national level seemingly had no qualms about encoding anti-gay bigotry into the California constitution.
Perhaps I'm dense, but I fail to understand how the institution of marriage could somehow be threatened by the state recognizing the unions of same-sex couples, particularly in a day and age when so many straight folk (myself included) have already had marriages that failed. (As my old boss used to say of the thrice-married Bob Barr back when he supported the Defense of Marriage Act: "Which marriage is he defending?") By the way, particularly galling on the Prop 8 front, I think, is the strong imposition of the Mormon church into the battle on the side of the anti-gay zealots. One would think, of all people, the Mormons might have some sense of the damage that can be wrought by the state involving itself in stringent definitions of marriage. But, no, apparently what was good for two ganders in the eyes of the Mormons isn't good for the goose. For shame.
Still, the Prop 8 debacle notwithstanding (I have every faith that within a decade, that law will seem as knee-jerk, narrow-minded, and embarrassing as it in fact is), Tuesday was otherwise a great night for America. What it now befalls us to remember is that, while we should savor them while we can, the path of progress before us will likely offer few such moments of jubilation in the months and years ahead. When it comes to change, it really is "uphill all the way."
Given the economic and diplomatic travails already before President-elect Obama, he'll have his work cut out for him from jump street. And those out there old enough to remember President Clinton's first days in office, and how quickly things seemed to go south then (the sanity-restoring '93 budget bill notwithstanding) will know that a Dem president and Dem Congress is no guarantee of progressive legislation in the offing. We won't see the change we want -- and voted for -- without maintaining steady and unyielding pressure on all the machinery of government in the months and years to come. Now is not the time to sit back and let our new president try to do all the heavy lifting, but to stay involved as citizens and keep the progressive ball moving forward. (And, hey, keeping one's head in the game may help to mitigate those postpartum existential crises The Onion warned us about.)
In an election held eighty years ago (i.e. in the living memory of one Ann Nixon Cooper), Herbert Hoover, the longstanding Secretary of Commerce widely revered as "the Great Engineer" and "the Great Humanitarian," decisively defeated Al Smith, the Catholic Governor of New York. "Given a chance to go forward with the policies of the last eight years," Hoover had promised in his nomination speech, "we shall soon with the help of God be in sight of the day when poverty will be banished from this nation." And, while he obviously had his detractors, many across the country viewed Hoover as a miracle-worker who could singlehandedly steer the country to these new great heights. "We were in a mood for magic," journalist Anne O’Hare McCormick wrote of the Hoover inauguration. "We summoned a great engineer to solve our problems for us; now we sat back comfortably and confidently to watch the problems being solved."
For his part, Hoover was less sanguine about his prospects. "They have a conviction that I am some sort of superman, he fretted. "If some unprecedented calamity should come upon the nation...I would be sacrificed to the unreasoning disappointment of a people who expected too much."
Who among us think Hoover a superman now? History doesn't stop with a war or an election or the collapse of a governing ideology, be it Communism or Conservatism. It grinds inexorably on, always uncertain, always equal parts danger and opportunity, and all too often deeply laced with irony -- Time and time again in our American story, nothing succeeds like abject failure, and nothing fails like a great success. So let's not rest on our laurels by any means: The election of 2008 was a campaign hard-fought and hard-won, but the battle continues, and in many ways the real work before us is only now just beginning.
Let us look to navigate the turbulent waters ahead with a deep and abiding faith in our new captain, but also with our own eyes to the sea.
(Presidents pic via Hal at Blivet and Patrick at Supercres.)
"Even revisionist historians who view Hoover kindly concede that his was a failed presidency. Still, it's unfortunate that commentators and politicians are employing 'Hoover' as an epithet for inaction. His White House tribulations consumed only four of more than 90 years studded with extraordinary achievements- -- as Great Engineer, as World War I Food Czar, and, above all, as Great Humanitarian." In light of recent events, esteemed historian William Leuchtenberg rides to the rescue of the Great Engineer, and attempts to set the record straight on comparisons of Dubya to Herbert Hoover. "In contrast to George W. Bush," he concludes, "President Hoover moved in unprecedented ways to cope with economic calamity."
"The Glass-Steagall Act is the Depression-era law that separated commercial and investment banking. It was functionally repealed in 1998, when Travelers (the parent company of Salomon Smith Barney) acquired Citicorp. And it was officially repealed in 1999. But recent events on Wall Street -- the failure or sale of three of the five largest independent investment banks -- have effectively turned back the clock to the 1920s, when investment banks and commercial banks cohabited under the same corporate umbrella." As Wall Street takes a dive in the wake of several bank failures and near-failures -- but, don't worry, the fundamentals of the economy are strong and everything -- Newsweek's Daniel Gross briefly discusses the end of the Glass-Steagal era, and what it means for the American economy.
"'This convention,' wrote H.L. Mencken, the most famous reporter of the age, is 'almost as vain and idiotic as a golf tournament or a disarmament conference.'" Those political junkies out there pining for a brokered convention, be careful what you wish for: The WP's Peter Carlson reminds everyone of the 1924 Democratic Convention in New York, which stalled out between Al Smith and William McAdoo before finally deciding on Wall St. lawyer John W. Davis, who in turn lost to Republican Calvin Coolidge and -- in twelve states -- Progressive Robert La Follette. (For the longer version, see Robert Murray's The 103rd Ballot. Which reminds me, having spent the day myself in 1924, it seemed a strange confluence to find this staring back at me upon my return to 2008.)
A disaster for the Democrats that year, the "unconventional convention" did at least provide choice grist for political wags then, and has ever since. "This thing has got to come to an end," Will Rogers pleaded well into the nine-day stretch. "New York invited you people here as guests, not to live." (Rogers also noted on the day of the infamous KKK resolution that it "will always remain burned in my memory as long as I live as being the day when I heard the most religion preached, and the least practiced, of any day in the world’s history.") When William Jennings Bryan, after days of thundering himself hoarse, wheeled around to support the final Davis ticket (which included as a sop to the Bryanites his younger brother in the veep slot), one reporter quipped: "If monkeys had votes, Mr. Bryan would be a champion of evolution."
And then there were the snafus. The Carlson piece talks about the Democratic decision to broadcast the convention on the newfangled radio, which turned out be a public relations catastrophe for the party. And there was worse. The Texas delegation -- aghast that they shared a block with St. Patrick's Cathedral and a city with Wall Street and the House of Morgan -- had to be talked out of burning a cross. And when the convention band tried to appease their southern guests at one point by striking up a "Dixie" song, they obliviously settled in on "Marching Through Georgia." Speaking of the Civil War, progressive Republican Hiram Johnson quipped once the Democratic ordeal was over, "How true was Grant's exclamation that the Democratic Party could be relied upon to do the wrong thing at the right time." (Let's try not to live down to that assessment this year, please.)
"As political scientist Jacob Hacker has argued, the basic obstacle was nothing less than the government's failure to have adopted a comprehensive health insurance plan decades earlier. As a result, the system that emerged by 1994 entailed such a crazy quilt of private interests -- corporations, small firms, insurers, doctors, unions, HMOs, and so on -- that moving all Americans into a new framework without worsening anyone's situation had become virtually impossible." Slate and Rutger University's David Greenberg summarizes the history of health care reform, and of the epithet "socialized medicine." "[T]he idea of government-run health care dates to the Progressive Era. Originally called 'compulsory health insurance,' it enjoyed favor in the 1910s among many quarters, including the American Medical Association...But as the debate heated up, doctors began to worry that it would hurt their incomes, and they banded with business groups like the National Association of Manufacturers to oppose reform. American entry into World War I tabled consideration of the issue, and the postwar Red Scare, Starr notes, 'buried it in an avalanche of anticommunist rhetoric.'"
"As the Hurricane Katrina anniversary coverage blows out to sea and New Orleans braces for another year of neglect, it's worth pausing to consider the fallout from the disaster that was previously deemed the worst in U.S. history -- the 1927 Mississippi flood." Slate's David Greenberg takes a moment to remember the big 1927 flood, which significantly altered New Era attitudes about the appropriate duties of the federal government (and will also play a significant role in the latter half of my dissertation.)
Listen up, Cornyn: "There never was a more vicious or insidious doctrine announced for the consideration of a free people than the doctrine that our constitution or any part of it is suspended during a state of war. Our constitution was made for war as well as peace. Equally vicious is the doctrine that you must disregard the guarantees of the constitution and trample upon our civil liberties in order to save the constitution...[W]e can never get anywhere if we resort to the theory that the minority has no rights which the majority is bound to respect or that the constitutional rights of the citizen must give way to some supposed emergency. I think the greatest service the true American can render to the cause of orderly liberty is to demonstrate in this critical situation that we can deal with every confronting situation and meet every emergency without violating or disregarding to the individual citizen any of his rights under our constitution. If we have reached the point where we cannot take care of the situation without resorting to arbitrary methods, to undefined official discretion, then the enemies of this government may well say that our system has proved a failure." -- Sen. William E. Borah, "Letter to Austin Simmons," January 21, 1920.
"Calamitous presidents, faced with enormous difficulties -- Buchanan, Andrew Johnson, Hoover and now Bush -- have divided the nation, governed erratically and left the nation worse off. In each case, different factors contributed to the failure: disastrous domestic policies, foreign-policy blunders and military setbacks, executive misconduct, crises of credibility and public trust. Bush, however, is one of the rarities in presidential history: He has not only stumbled badly in every one of these key areas, he has also displayed a weakness common among the greatest presidential failures -- an unswerving adherence to a simplistic ideology that abjures deviation from dogma as heresy, thus preventing any pragmatic adjustment to changing realities." As seen all over the place, historian Sean Wilentz wonders aloud in Rolling Stone if Dubya is the worst president in American history.
To my mind, the only other president that even comes close is James Buchanan. Sure, Warren Harding was lousy, but he knew it ("I am a man of limited talents from a small town. I don't seem to grasp that I am President."), and thus didn't go out of his way to be actively terrible like Bush has been. (Plus, for all the corruption of the Ohio gang, Harding's cabinet also included Charles Evans Hughes, Andrew Mellon, and Herbert Hoover, all impressive in their own right.) Speaking of Hoover, both he and Ulysses Grant have been given a bad shake. Even if the Depression basically ate his administration alive, Hoover -- once renowned as the "Great Engineer" -- was a more innovative president (and empathetic person) than he's often remembered. And Grant's administrations, although plagued by corruption, at the very least tried to maintain Reconstruction in the South. (In fact, I'd argue that Grant's sorry standing in presidential history is in a part a reflection of the low esteem in which Reconstruction was once held by the now-woefully obsolete Dunning School.) Regarding the other Reconstruction president, Andrew Johnson is assuredly down near the bottom too, but to be fair, he faced an almost impossible situation entering office in the time and manner he did, and -- as with Clinton -- his impeachment was a bit of a frame-job. And Richard Nixon, for all his many failings, had China (as well as the EPA despite himself, and, although it didn't pan out, the Family Assistance Plan.) Nope, I think it's safe to say that we may be experiencing perhaps the most blatantly inept, wrong-headed, and mismanaged presidency in the history of the republic. Oh, lucky us.
