The Tail Slapping the Dog

 | 

I grew up in a blue-collar world listening to jokes and snide remarks about government workers. They were uttered frequently by my father, and the fathers of most of my friends, especially during tax season. I came to perceive that government, at all levels, was riddled with chumps, lackeys, and dullards — people who couldn’t make it in the private sector but found a home in the lackadaisical workplace of government.

It was tacitly assumed that public employees earned less money than their private sector counterparts and that “psychic income” explained their willingness to do so. Psychic income has been defined as “something apart from money that you get from your job, and which gives you emotional satisfaction such as a feeling of being powerful or important.” Anyone who has dealt with government bureaucrats (from IRS agents to building inspectors and DMV clerks) can attest to its allure. My father probably would have described psychic income as a negative salary differential that gave this army of self-important, insecure underachievers a pass. That is, as long as they made less money, their shoddy (good enough for government) work could be tolerated.

That was back in the late 1960s. The Great Society was shifting into high gear. Big government was booming, and the demand for government workers was exploding. In those auspicious days, the job of many public servants was to invent jobs for more public servants. As government revenues continued (1969 to the present) to grow more than 15 times faster than median income, additional public servants were needed just to spend the extra tax money.

During the recession, when nongovernment workers were losing jobs and taking pay cuts, the government was hiring and giving out raises.

But my father’s suspicions about the negative salary differential were partly wrong. Federal civil servants were already making more money than their private sector brethren. And they, as well as state and local public servants, were on track to make much more. I didn’t have the heart to tell my father that the lower salary — the only redeeming characteristic of the shiftless and slothful government workforce — was an illusion. And the grudging tolerance of his generation was being augmented by the unwitting generosity of mine to unleash relentless public sector growth. My generation rewarded public sector workers with unprecedented income — both real (salary and benefits) and psychic (power and importance), sweetening the deal with unprecedentedjob security. The tail began wagging the dog.

Today, the average federal civilian worker earns twice as much in wages and benefits as the average worker in the private sector ($123,049 vs $61,051, annually). The benefits (healthcare, sick days, vacation time, retirement plans, etc.) are profligately generous, as are the taxpayer contributions that pay for them. For example, in 2007, state and local governments paid an average of $3.04 an hour toward each employee's retirement; private employers paid only $0.92/hour. And, in recent years, the pace (of both hiring and wage increases) has accelerated. For example, when the recession started, the Department of Transportation had only one person with a salary of $170,000 or more. That number has now reached 1,690. Defense Department civilian employees earning $150,000 or more increased from 1,868 in December 2007 to 10,100 in June 2009.

We are told (by President Obama and many others) that such obscenely generous compensation is required for attracting the best and the brightest to run government programs. Just think of the mess that Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, the Postal Service, Amtrak, public housing, education, etc. would be in if managed by less competent professionals. And who could do a better job fighting the wars against poverty, drugs, cancer, AIDS, etc. than the people presently employed? With successes such as these, no wonder they have moved on to protecting us against such menaces as trans fats, sugar, secondhand smoke, bicycles, and toys (the lead-painted ones from China and the obesity-inducing ones from McDonald’s).

And since we must be regulated in both good times and bad, public service is a recession-proof industry. During the recent recession, the federal government added 192,700 jobs (+ 9.8%). State and local governments added a paltry 33,000 (+ 0.2%), but the private sector lost 7.3 million (-6.3%). The average federal government salary increased 6.6%; the average state and local government salary increased 3.9%. To summarize, during the recession, when nongovernment workers were losing jobs and taking pay cuts, the government was hiring and giving out raises.

It has reached a point where even big-government advocates have become appalled. For example, Mort Zuckerman, billionaire businessman and generous contributor to the Obama campaign, has recently discovered that “public workers have become a privileged class — an elite who live better than their private-sector counterparts. Public servants have become the public's masters."

It is of no small significance that the big gainers in the government hiring binge are regulators, lawyers, and public health and safety experts. They are the most annoying of public servants. Operating as social engineers, and under the assumption that without their guidance we (individuals, families, and businesses of all types and sizes) will make bad decisions, they serve two principal purposes: (A) ensuring that we obey every silly law with childlike compliance, and (B) writing more silly laws. This is the tail slapping the dog.

Feckless public servants lavished enormous retirement benefits on themselves, used taxpayer money for payroll contributions, managed to come up $7 trillion short, and now expect taxpayers to foot the bill.

Much of the sting from the slap comes from their colossal ineptitude. They are simply terrible at what they do. The vigilant financial regulators who protected us from the subprime mortgage debacle are a case in point. They include the elite that was running HUD, Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac, and the SEC (whose crack securities experts were downloading porn while credit default swaps and Bernie Madoff ran amok). Their predecessors were equally inadequate in preventing the S&L crisis, the junk bond fiasco, the Enron and WorldCom scandals, and the dotcom bubble.

It should be no great surprise, therefore, that our public masters running government pension funds have reached no higher level of competence. According to a recent report from the Employee Benefit Research Institute, federal pension plans now have unfunded liabilities exceeding $1.6 trillion. Unfunded state and local pension liabilities are estimated at $3.6 trillion. With healthcare benefits added in, state and local government unfunded retirement liabilities could be as large as $5.2 trillion. Consequently, our children face a huge future slap in the form of a tax bill approaching $7 trillion. To summarize: feckless public servants lavished enormous retirement benefits on themselves, used taxpayer money for payroll contributions (at a rate three times that of theprivate sector), managed to come up $7 trillion short, and, instead of going to jail, now expect taxpayers to foot the bill.

Then there is Public Service Recognition Week (PSRW), a nationwide campaign honoring public servants and educating citizens about the sacrifices they make while serving the nation. Federal, state and local public servants spend the first week of every May honoring themselves and bragging about the terrific jobs they are doing. They have exhibits showcasing “the innovative and quality work performed by public employees.” They even have parades “recognizing and thanking their unsung heroes.” This is the tail slapping the dog with disdain.

Public servants have come a long way from the banal, ambitionless, unproductive horde of my father's generation.They are now grossly overpaid, insidiously more powerful, and routinely unaccountable for bad, often abysmal, performance. No doubt most are good people with good intentions, some making legitimate sacrifices. I would go to a parade honoring most policemen, firefighters, teachers, and emergency workers. But there should also be a parade ridiculing those whose malfeasance, indolence, or avarice has failed the public and contaminated the perception of civil service. Regrettably, such a parade could not be held; it would last well over the week allotted.

Today there are simply too many public servants — even good ones. With staggering deficits and staggering public debt, we can no longer afford them. Public resentment deepens the more their compensation is scrutinized, as all levels of government begin trying to cut their budgets. Most are overpaid, especially at the federal level. And today's administrators, regulators, inspectors, social engineers, and the like have painted a disturbing "public masters" portrait of themselves. Furthermore, psychic income as a reward for sacrifice is a thing of the past. As public sector payrolls expand during private sector contraction, it's difficult for taxpayers to see the sacrifice. Public servants have become the "haves," and taxpayers, who pay their salaries, have become the "have-nots." Psychic cost — the economic burden of the government workforce — is a more realistic concept.

From 1787 through the 1920s, federal government spending didn’t exceed 4% of GDP, except in wartime. It has now reached 25% of GDP. Combined federal, state, and local government spending has reached 43% of GDP, and the average taxpayer has to work from January 1 to the middle of each April to pay for this largesse. But even that is not enough. In recent years, federal spending has exceeded tax revenue. It has taken an unprecedented leap since 2008, producing today's massive annual budget deficit of $1.5 trillion. To pay off this deficit, the average taxpayer would have to work until mid-May —and consequently have to miss the Public Service Recognition Week parades.

quot;public masters




Share This


Reclaiming the Word “Liberal”

 | 

I propose that we call left-liberals just that, not “liberals” without qualification. Doing so would help reclaim the original name of an honorable old political tradition. It would resist the purloining and perversion of the word “liberal” as used in the United States. It would avoid ambiguity by bringing American usage into line with usage in much or most of the world outside the United States, where the word “liberal” retains its classical meaning, as I shall try to show. Left-liberals contrast sharply with classical liberals; they incline to interventionist and redistributionary policies extending into ever more aspects of life.

John Kekes’ Against Liberalism (1997), although a generally meritorious work, illustrates the ambiguous use of words. From a self-styled conservative, I expected an attack on his doctrine’s classical rival. But no: Kekes muddles classical and left-liberalism together, making his attack less incisive than it might have been.

Beyond inviting misunderstanding, controversialists put themselves at a disadvantage when they let their opponents define the terms of debate. When classical liberals and conservatives let “liberal” be purloined and even use it themselves (as a term of abuse), they concede too much to their opponents.

Words and Policy

The word “liberal” derives from the Latin for “free.” Classical liberals do not all share the same detailed understanding of their values; but to minimize repetition in what follows, it is convenient to list typical characteristics. Classical liberals typically believe in the importance of individual responsibility; in the freedom to live one’s own life, to travel, to change residence, and to choose one’s own occupation; in freedom of speech and press; in tolerance of the opinions and lifestyles of dissenting minorities; in capitalist enterprise with secure property rights and free markets for domestic and international trade; in freely and honestly elected representative government of defined and limited powers that protects human rights; in the rule of law, equality before the law, independent administration of law and justice, and separation of church and state.

Left-liberals share many of these values, of course; the chief difference concerns the character and scope of government, which affect the degree of respect that left-liberals have for others among those values.

Liberalism, if not yet so called, became a powerful force in the Age of Enlightenment. It rejected hereditary status, the divine right of kings, absolute monarchy, and established religoin. Leaders of the American and French Revolutions used liberal philosophy, including insistence on consent of the governed, to justify overthrowing tyrannical rule. The 19th century brought more or less liberal governments to countries in Europe and the Americas.

When classical liberals and conservatives let “liberal” be purloined and even use it themselves (as a term of abuse), they concede too much to their opponents.

An early political use of the term “liberal” dates from the Cortes of Cádiz, which adopted the Spanish constitution of 1812. There the conservatives derided their majority opponents as “liberals.” The liberals wanted to carry on the Enlightenment philosophy of Charles III, adding several ideals of the French Revolution. They fought for civil liberties and against absolute monarchy. Even though the constitution of 1812 remained in effect only for brief intervals, it served as a model for liberal constitutions of Latin countries in the nineteenth century. (These facts are found partly by Googling for “liberals” and “liberals Cadiz” and in the Wikipedia entry on “Constitución española de 1812." Club Liberal Español is also useful.)

Elsewhere also, and perhaps especially in Great Britain and its colonies, liberal aspirations included removing various restraints on residence, occupation or employment, and property ownership; increasing the flexibility of land inheritance; modernizing onerous old legal structures and practices; removing various legal discriminations; extending the franchise and (in Britain) remedying the over-representation of rotten boroughs in Parliament. Workers eventually gained the right to form unions.

How, then, did the word “liberal” acquire its changed meaning? Well, the early liberals worked for freedom from burdensome and oppressive old laws and regulations. Liberalism meant action. The ideal of change toward increased freedom and modernity drifted into accepting change almost for its own sake — or so I conjecture. Many conditions in the world plausibly seemed open to improvement — even in the liberal direction — by changing or adding some laws and regulations.

The case for a typical one of these interventions, taken by itself, may indeed be strong; yet a great accumulation of individually plausible interventions may become oppressive and make the task of monitoring government all the more difficult. Overlooking this point commits the fallacy of composition, the fallacy of supposing that what is true of the individual case is therefore true of such cases taken together. (The standard example compares one spectator standing up to see a parade better, and all standing up to see the parade.)

Even so, advocates of each particular intervention tend to focus on it, not perceiving or worrying about the fallacy. Some interventions may have unintended side effects that seem to require still others as correctives (as Ludwig von Mises explained). Ongoing growth of government activity motivates special interests to seek more interventions on their own behalf or in self-defense against privileges given to others. The political expediency of a “moderate,” middle-of-the-road position — the Hotelling effect, so called following Harold Hotelling’s article in the Economic Journal (1929) — allows the more active side of the road to drag along what is considered the respectable middle, thus reinforcing the drift. Many or most participants in an interventionist drift may well be high-minded people; but the drift does offer opportunities to control freaks, who may relish the prospect of power for their own purposes in a semi-socialist state.

The original term “liberal” persists, in the United States, anyway, even for an orientation that has metamorphosed into almost its opposite. The process illustrates the Hegel-Marx notion of a change of quantity into quality, of degree into kind (as rising temperature changes ice into fluid water and then into steam). An itch to change things has taken hold, with politicians and special interests constantly imagining what further government interventions into what further aspects of life might do some good.

Participants in the Drift of Meaning

John Stuart Mill illustrates a stage in the slide toward left-liberalism. Mill was a genuine classical liberal, concerned with removing interferences with individual freedom. He was an early feminist, urging that women should have fully as much control as men over their own persons and property. His On Liberty is a classic defense of the individual’s right to act as he wishes, even mistakenly, provided only that he does not infringe on the rights of others. He championed freedom of speech and controversy and freedom even from pressures to conform to general opinion; he valued eccentricity. On Liberty urged the benefits of private enterprise and the spirit of innovation.

In the last chapter of his Principles of Political Economy, a chapter entitled “Of the Grounds and Limits of the Laisser-faire or Non-Interference Principle,” Mill reviews the various arguments against extending the scope of government. Still, he considers how government intervention might enhance freedom. He distinguishes between two types. One is “authoritative interference” — requiring or forbidding private actions. A second type, alternative to commands and penalties, includes giving information and advice. But the scope for intervention, as imagined by Mill, is much wider.

Liberalism meant action. The ideal of change toward increased freedom and modernity drifted into accepting change almost for its own sake.

Mill wants to free individuals from finding their future selves bound by very long-term contracts. He would accept intervention when the consumer has inadequate knowledge of the market or is unable to judge the desirability or quality of some good or service, education perhaps being an example. Intervention might be justified when some persons exercise power over others, as over children and animals. The government might intervene to remedy defects of delegated decisions or management, as by giving shareholders more power over the companies they own. Intervention might help give effect to the desires of the persons concerned, as when, for example, workers might want shorter hours but could hardly demand them individually rather than collectively. Mill sees a case for public alongside private charity. Government might properly regulate or own such natural monopolies as gas and water. It might pursue any object of general interest in default of private action — roads, docks, harbors, canals, irrigation, hospitals, schools and colleges, a national bank, a manufactory, a postal service, an established church. (He even mentions printing presses!) Private alternatives would not be banned; private and public education might exist alongside each other. Government should regulate the colonization of new lands (e.g., Australia). In general, government might undertake any beneficial activities that private agencies would find unprofitable; it could support what are now called positive externalities. Mill’s example was voyages of geographical or scientific exploration; nowadays we might think of the space program.

Earlier in his Principles (Book II, Chapter I), Mill expressed some interest in and even sympathy for socialism in some sense or other. The decision between it and the present system of private property “will probably depend mainly on one consideration, viz. which of the two systems is consistent with the greatest amount of human liberty and spontaneity” (Ashley edition, 1929, p. 210). “It is for experience to determine how far or how soon any one or more of the possible systems of community property will be fitted to substitute itself for the ‘organization of industry’ based on private ownership of land and capital. . . . [However,] the object to be principally aimed at, in the present stage of human improvement, is not the subversion of the system of individual property, but the improvement of it, and the full participation of every member of the community in its benefits” (pp. 216–217). Thus, even Mill’s interest in (though not commitment to) socialism reflected his concern for individuality and personal freedom and opportunity.

I get the impression from his Principles that Mill’s acceptance of intervention and his interest in socialism were rather reluctant. He wanted to serve and enhance the autonomy and effectiveness of the individual; personal freedom was his touchstone, but he thought that wise government guidance could enhance it. He wanted to give a fair shake to doctrines or practices that he himself may have contemplated only reluctantly or tentatively.

Like Mill, Thomas Hill Green (1836–1882) exemplifies the drift (especially in his lecture on “Liberal Legislation and Freedom of Contract”; see also the Wikipedia entries on Green and on “Social Liberalism”). He was a philosopher, adherent of the Liberal Party, political radical, temperance campaigner, and prominent figure among those, also including L.T. Hobhouse and John A. Hobson, who became known as the New Liberals. These men used the classical language of liberalism in support of state intervention in economic, social, and cultural life. Green favored factory legislation for safety and health, restrictions on child and women’s labor, public schools, reform of inheritance of land, protection of tenant farmers against arbitrary landlords, and restrictions on the sale of alcohol. He defended such interventions against the objection that they impair freedom of contract.

In distinguishing between negative freedom and positive freedom, Green made a now notorious play on words. He called the latter “true freedom,” charitably interpreted to mean individuals’ efficacy in pursuing their own interests and in political participation. Sir Isaiah Berlin made the same distinction in his “Two Concepts of Liberty” (1958), but he did so to warn against the equivocation involved.

Even Mill’s interest in (though not commitment to) socialism reflected his concern for individuality and personal freedom and opportunity.

John Maynard Keynes, member of the Liberal Party in Britain, was arguably a figure in the leftward drift. At least two schools of interpretation of his General Theory demonstrate the ambiguity of his position. One school stresses his evident appreciation of private property and a market economy; he had no particular quarrel with how the price system allocates resources. Writing during the Great Depression of the 1930s, however, he did worry about a persistent tendency toward lack of enough total demand to maintain prosperity with full employment. That defect could be remedied rather straightforwardly by monetary policy and especially by government fiscal policy, both without detailed control over the allocation of labor and other resources. On this interpretation, Keynes remained basically a classical liberal. The rival interpretation sees him as a meddlesome interventionist, or worse. It takes literally some of his stray remarks, such as his comment about the “socialization of investment,” as if he meant more than policy to stimulate enough investment to absorb otherwise excess saving — as if he did envision widespread government ownership of the means of production — in a word, socialism. Actually, he did not go that far.

The Oxford Liberal Manifesto of 1947/1948, written by Salvador de Madariaga and adopted by delegates from 19 countries, also illustrates how classical liberalism became stretched. Unsurprisingly, it urges protecting the standard freedoms and enhancing the several components of political liberty. But it goes further. Its concern for the freedom and wellbeing of persons extends to education; security from the hazards of sickness, unemployment, disability, and old age; and continuous betterment of conditions of employment and housing. Economic freedom must be protected from monopolies and cartels. “The welfare of the community must prevail and must be safeguarded from the abuse of power by sectional interests” (Wikipedia entry and text of the Manifesto).

So the Manifesto almost welcomes myriad detailed interventions. It allows politicians opportunities to perceive or invent ills that their legislation and regulation might remedy. In H.L. Mencken’s much quoted exaggeration, “The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populace alarmed (and hence clamorous to be led to safety) by menacing it with an endless series of hobgoblins, all of them imaginary.” As if to illustrate Mencken’s point, a recent call-in session on C-SPAN recognizes appropriate federal government concern about . . . bedbugs.

The word “liberal” in the sense of left-liberal is (or was until quite recently) accepted gladly, and even as a self-congratulatory term, by American adherents of that political persuasion; and most do so use it still. However, many conservative politicians and commentators, such as Rush Limbaugh, have come to use it as a pejorative. Thus even conservatives join in perverting the unmodified word to mean incessant leftward change.

International Usage

This drift toward perverting the word has not occurred, however, in all writings and all countries. In some English-speaking countries outside the United States (Canada, Australia, and the United Kingdom), usage of the term “liberal” seems to be complicated by their having thus-named Liberal (or Liberal Democratic) political parties. But in the UK, anyway, the classical usage still seems to prevail. The London Economist does routinely and unambiguously so use the word. For example, its issue of 16–22 October 2010 hails Mario Vargas Llosa, winnner of the Nobel Prize for literature, as “A Latin American Liberal”: “His liberalism is universal, inspired by such thinkers as Karl Popper and Isaiah Berlin.” In most other countries and languages, also, “liberal” means classical advocacy of a free-market economy; personal rights, liberties, and responsibilities; equality before the law; and a democratic element in limited government.

Liberal policies could plausibly drift into left-liberal interventionism, as I have argued, without any sharp break point bringing a change in terminology. But why did the change of meaning occur mainly in the United States while “liberal” retains its classical meaning in so many foreign countries? Well, in some developing countries where free markets and democratic politics have not yet fully emerged, classical free-market liberalism may still be only an aspiration of an intellectual minority and not yet an actuality subject to being democratically corrupted by organized interests; the process described by Mancur Olsen in his Rise and Decline of Nations (1982) has not yet taken hold. But this mere conjecture leaves unsolved the puzzle of why “liberal” or “liberalism” does indeed retain its classical meaning in many countries outside the United States.

As if to illustrate Mencken’s point, a recent call-in session on C-SPAN recognizes appropriate federal government concern about bedbugs.

But it does. Evidence follows. The Atlas Foundation, founded by Sir Antony Fisher and now headquartered in the United States, is an umbrella organization for classical-liberal programs and thinktanks around the world. Atlas lists many dozens of them that it supports or that cooperate with it. I tried to find all of these web sites (and also found a few others). Unsurprisingly, most by far of the American thinktanks use “liberal” or “liberalism,” if at all, in the American leftist sense. In other countries, also, by no means do all or even most of the free-market thin tanks explicitly label themselves “liberal” either by their names or in their homepage self-descriptions. That is understandable. They may not want to risk frightening away potential supporters by one explicit label. They do, however, express sympathy with the tenets of classical liberalism, which they review.

Yet some do explicitly name themselves. Examples include Club Liberal (Spain), Unión Liberal Cubana (located in Spain), Instituto Liberal (Brazil), Instytut Liberalno-Konserwtywny (Poland), Liberaljnaja Missija (Russia), Association for Liberal Thinking (Turkey), Center for Liberal-Democratic Studies (Serbia), Centre for Liberal Strategies (Bulgaria), Liberal Group (India), Liberal Network Europe (Bulgaria), Liberales Institut (Switzerland), Libertarni Klub (Slovenia), Eurolibnetwork (France), Liberal Youth Forum (India), and Red [Network] Liberal de América Latina (16 countries).

Tanks describing though not actually naming themselves as liberal include Free Market Center (Serbia), Free Market Foundation of Southern Africa (South Africa), Fundación para el Análisis y los Estudios Sociales (Spain), Institut Constant de Rebecque (Switzerland), Institut Turgot (France), Institute for Development and Social Initiatives “Viitorul” (Moldova), Institute for Economic Studies Europe (France), Instituto de Ciencia Política (Colombia), Instituto de Estudos Empresariais (Brazil), Instituto Liberdade (Brazil, formerly named Instituto Liberal do Rio Grande do Sul), Istituto Acton (Italy), Istituto Bruno Leoni (Italy), Liberté Chérie (France), Mont Pelerin Society (international), Prague Security Studies Institute (Czech Republic), Center for Political Studies (Denmark), Centre for Independent Studies (Australia). The Centre for Civil Society (India) straightforwardly calls itself “liberal,” as in announcing a “Colloquium on the Indian Liberal Tradition” and issuing invitations to the 2011 regional meeting of the Mont Pelerin Society, whose theme would be “India as a Global Power: Practicing Liberal Values at Home and Abroad.”

In addition, many of the tanks not explicitly so naming their philosophy do present articles or other content using the word “liberal” (or “liberalism”) in the classical sense. Examples include Andes Libres Asociación Civil (Peru), Center for Free Enterprise (Korea), Center for Institutional Development (Romania), Centro de Investigación y Estudios Legales (Peru), Centro para la Apertura y el Desarrollo de América Latina (Argentina), Education Forum (New Zealand), Eudoxa AB (Sweden), F.A. Hayek Foundation (Slovakia), Free Market Center (Serbia), Fundación Pensar (Argentina), Imani Center for Policy and Education (Ghana), Instituto de Libre Empresa (Peru), Free Market Center (Serbia and Montenegro).

Why did the change of meaning occur mainly in the United States while “liberal” retains its classical meaning in so many foreign countries?

Many institutions indicate their orientation by naming themselves after classical liberals. A list, partially overlapping the preceding ones, includes: John Locke Foundation (US), Locke Institute (US), James Madison Institute (US) Henry Hazlitt Foundation (US, now dissolved), Alexis de Tocqueville Institution (US), Bastiat Institute (US), Milton and Rose D. Friedman Foundation (US), Istituto Bruno Leoni (Italy), Adam Smith Institute (UK), Adam Smith Society (Italy), Adam Smith Centre (Poland), David Hume Institute (UK), Institut Turgot (France), Institut Constant de Rebecque (Switzerland), Fundación José Ortega y Gasset (Spain), many named after F.A. Hayek (Austria, Slovakia, Russia, Germany, Canada), and many named after Ludwig von Mises (US, Belarus, Belgium, Mexico, Argentina, Russia, Brazil, Romania, El Salvador, Czech Republic, Slovakia).

Conclusion

It is understandable how change in the liberalizing direction might have gained momentum and drifted into change valued almost as itself. But where should an originally admirable drift stop? It is odd that continual change through legislation and bureaucratic regulation, however democratically adopted, should be made a philosophical ideal. Political philosophy might better present a stable vision of the good society, one in which individuals can successfully pursue their own goals in life in peaceful and productive cooperation with others through trade and otherwise.

A stable society does not mean stagnation. A stable political framework does not obstruct — it fosters — an environment of progress in science, technology, and culture, a rising standard of living, and a widening of people’s opportunities.

Reclaiming the word “liberal” in its classical and international sense will help clarify discussion of such issues. Instead of outright and confusingly reversing how the word “liberal” is commonly used in the United States, qualifying it as “left” serves clarity.“Left” is not an abusive term employed instead of argument; it describes but does not in itself evaluate. Conceivably left-liberals are correct about the issues that concern them. Furthermore, they typically regard being politically somewhat to the left of center as the moral, humane, compassionate, and progressive position. In the many parliaments where the seating pattern distinguishes between left and right, delegates seated on the left are not ashamed of sitting there.

Two alternatives to the terminological rescue that I suggest come to mind. The left-liberals might be renamed “progressives.” Some of them call themselves that already; and some conservatives, such as Glenn Beck, even use “progressive” as a term of abuse. However, the word already names a specific policy stance in early 20th-century America. Furthermore, it concedes an undeserved terminological advantage to the “progressives,” as if they were for progress and their opponents were against it.

Or classical liberals might give up, concede the unqualified term “liberal” to their opponents, and call themselves “libertarians.” But one might plausibly distinguish between libertarians and classical liberals. I sometimes say, only half in jest, that libertarianism is classical liberalism for children, while classical liberalism is libertarianism for adults.

Most briefly, explicitly distinguishing between left and classical liberalism will promote clarity in discussion, particularly when international usage is taken into account.




Share This


1989 in the Muslim World?

 | 

On December 17, Tunisian street vendor Mohamed Bouazizi, driven to desperation by mistreatment at the hands of petty officialdom, drenched his body with gasoline (or paint thinner, according to some accounts) and set himself alight. His death touched off a chain reaction in much of the Muslim world. Protestors took to the streets of Tunis, and their protests culminated in a popular revolution that ousted the country’s corrupt president. The tumult spread to Egypt where, remarkably, a massive yet largely peaceful protest movement succeeded in forcing Hosni Mubarak, who for 30 years had ruled the land like a pharaoh, to step down. At this moment street protests and violence are occurring in Morocco, Algeria, Libya, Jordan, Bahrain, Yemen, and Iran — an upheaval reminiscent of that which swept Eastern Europe after the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989.

Will the outcome be the same? Are the Middle East and North Africa on the verge of changes that will transform the lives of the people living there? Americans cannot but hope that the early promise of this revolution will be sustained. But I would sound a note of caution. There are reasons to believe that the events we are witnessing represent a false dawn.

That a region-wide conflagration had to come at some point was obvious, though exactly when it would occur no one knew. Demographics (a major youth bulge exists in all the countries in tumult), economics (the region is plagued by high long-term unemployment and soaring food prices), and government corruption provided the tinder that allowed Bouazizi’s fire to spread. Conditions in the Middle East are as backward and absurd as those that prevailed in Eastern Europe in 1989. But Eastern Europe’s problems were in a sense artificial, caused by the warped imperatives of Marxism-Leninism. The problems of the Muslim world are more fundamental.

 Although Iran, the one non-Arab nation involved, has a democratic tradition of sorts (no thanks to the US, which overthrew a democratic government there in 1953), the Arab world does not. Despite the hopes and dreams of foreign policy liberals in the West, there is no evidence to indicate that the Arab peoples have any talent for democracy. Indeed, history seems to show that the reverse is true. Egypt, the political and cultural center of the Arab world, will be the test. Some observers believe that the Egyptian middle class, educated and secular to the extent that it is largely immune to the lure of radical Islamism, will take the nation into a liberal democratic future. But given the abject poverty of the Egyptian masses (living on two dollars a day, as we were reminded again and again during the uprising), and the country’s apparent aversion to liberal values (i.e., free markets and functional democracy), this seems very doubtful indeed. East Germany was pulled up from dictatorship and poverty by rich West Germany, with the latter expending a vast amount of wealth in the process. Who will be Egypt’s mentor and bankroller? The US? Not likely, given the state of our economy and the massive federal budget deficit — not to mention the fact that Egyptians will likely spurn our advice and even our money if any strings are attached. The only nation with enough wealth available to prop up Egypt economically is the kingdom of Saudi Arabia. But we may take it as certain that the Saudis have no desire to see their neighbor become a thriving democracy. The Egyptians will have to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps, something they have never demonstrated an ability to do. Should they fail, the lure of Islamism will be strong and perhaps irresistible.

Eastern Europe’s problems in 1989 were in a sense artificial, caused by the warped imperatives of Marxism-Leninism. The problems of the Muslim world are more fundamental.

Final victory for the protestors in Egypt came about not as a result of their undoubted courage and determination, but because the Egyptian Army refused to stage a Tiananmen Square. That they refrained from doing so was the result, in part, of US “advice” to exercise restraint. The American and Egyptian militaries have maintained close ties since the 1970s. Egyptian officers attend US military schools and training courses, and Egyptian forces are equipped with US weapons. The relationship is so close that the US has permitted production of the M1 battle tank on Egyptian soil.

The US, therefore, has leverage with the Egyptian military. At the same time, we must listen to what that military says, for maintenance of the 1978 Egyptian-Israeli peace treaty remains the top priority of US policy in the Middle East. Egypt is the irreplaceable linchpin of America’s Middle East strategy. If the transition to democracy in Egypt fails from the outset or is derailed by democracy’s inability to cope with the country’s massive economic and social problems, look for the Egyptian army to take a hand. And don’t be surprised if the US backs any action the army may take, even if it comes to the establishment of a new dictatorship. The US must retain Egypt within the orbit of its influence, or find its entire Middle East policy ruined.

There remains a third possibility beyond a successful transition to democracy or a reversion to military dictatorship — a recurrence of the events witnessed in Iran in 1979. This possibility has been pooh-poohed by some experts, who are convinced that the Muslim Brotherhood (founded in 1928 and after the army the largest and best organized actor in Egypt) is neither strong enough nor willing to impose an Islamic regime. The Brotherhood itself has done much to dampen fears, denying that it harbors ambitions to remake Egypt and even going so far as to promise not to field a candidate in the next presidential election. But consider this: on February 18 the radical Sunni cleric Sheik Yusuf al-Qaradawi, who had been forbidden to preach in Egypt for 50 years, and who supports attacks on both Israel and US forces in Iraq, spoke to over a million people (as estimated by the New York Times) gathered in Cairo’s Tahrir Square. He exhorted them to demand of the army that it clear out all holdovers from the Mubarak regime and prepare the way for a new government forthwith. And he urged Egyptians to keep up the pressure until all their demands are met.

Needless to say, such a forcing of the pace will lead to disappointment, more protests, and perhaps a move by the army to “restore order.” Already the army has warned that the country must get back to work; indeed, anything like permanent revolution in Egypt will mean bankruptcy for the Egyptian state. If chaos rather than order results, and the army begins to disintegrate, with conscripts deserting or joining the ranks of the Brotherhood, nothing will stand between the Islamists and their achievement of power in the state. And an Islamist regime would undoubtedly, sooner or later, turn Egyptians’ frustrations outward against Israel and the US. The US would then be effectively shut out of the Middle East (unless it could somehow maintain a precarious position on the Arabian peninsula), while Israel, already facing the demographic challenge of a Palestinian birth rate far higher than that of its Jewish inhabitants, would find itself surrounded once again by hostile states, now motivated by religious fanaticism. One can play out this scenario in various ways, none of which ends well for the US or Israel.

There is no evidence to indicate that the Arab peoples have any talent for democracy.

To the west of Egypt lies Tunisia, the birthplace of revolution, and its neighbors Libya and Algeria, both of which have experienced major unrest. Libya is to an extent a special case, being a collection of tribes rather than a true nation state. As of this writing civil war is raging there between supporters of the regime and rebels. Even the armed forces are divided. It is difficult to predict a winner at this point; however, the longer the fighting continues, the more the possibility of radical Islamists gaining a foothold increases. Recall that in the 1990s Islamists won free elections in Algeria, only to be prevented from taking office by the army. Throughout North Africa the armed forces are the main, or sole, bulwark against radical Islamism. Even in Tunisia, which thanks to French influence has what most of us would regard as a normal attitude toward alcohol and sex, riots have broken out in which fanatical Muslims sought to close down brothels and ransack bars.

But North Africa west of Egypt remains, for the US (though not Western Europe), a sideshow. It is to the east, in the oil-rich Persian Gulf region, that events of world-historical importance are being played out. The principal centers of events here are Iran and, surprisingly, tiny Bahrain.

Iran of course is the other great and ancient civilization besides Egypt in the Middle East. It has more of a democratic tradition than any country south of Turkey, a sizable middle class, and the potential to build a thriving economy based on more than its immense oil and gas reserves. Its peoples are not Arabs but belong to various ethnic groups, with Persians making up a slim majority. The vast majority of its citizens are followers of the Shia sect of Islam, whereas in Egypt the people are Sunni. Since the overthrow of the Shah in 1979, Iran has been under Islamist rule. The Iranian revolution was a delayed reaction to the Anglo-American coup of 1953, which overthrew a democratic government and restored the Shah to power. But for that cardinal Anglo-Saxon sin, Iran might today be a rock of pro-Western stability in one of the most important regions of the world. Instead, it is the West’s most dangerous adversary this side of China.

The tide of history is undergoing a major turn. The whole edifice of Western and especially American policy in the Middle East is crumbling.

In 2009 pro-democracy activists took on the Iranian regime after an election that was widely (though not universally) perceived as fraudulent. They were crushed. In the wake of Egypt, street protests once again sprang up. It is believed in some quarters that these protests mark the death knell of the Islamist order in Iran. On the February 20 edition of Fareed Zakaria’s CNN talk show, the ubiquitous (and apparently immortal) George Soros declared that the Iranian regime would be swept from power within a year. This seems to me a fundamental misreading of the situation. The Revolutionary Guards Corps, the real power in Iran, is as entrenched as the People’s Liberation Army in China. It has the means to crush any popular revolt, and will do so.

The uprisings in the Arab countries should be seen as anti-Western and anti-American (for who supported the autocrats? and who will be blamed if the revolutions don’t deliver democracy and prosperity?), and therefore helpful to the Iranian cause. Iran will reach out to Islamists in the Arab world with a message of unity against the common enemies, America and Israel. Such an appeal will have a potent effect on people looking to blame their problems on malevolent outside forces. In February, for the first time since the overthrow of the Shah, Egypt allowed Iranian warships to pass through the Suez Canal (something Egypt could not legally prevent in any case, but nevertheless a definite straw in the wind).

Watch Bahrain to see which way the tide turns. This small Persian Gulf nation has a Sunni ruling family but a majority Shia population. So far, the protests there have been contained, but if the Shia chase out the rulers, Iranian influence will be at the very doorstep of Saudi Arabia. (Saudi Arabia’s Eastern Province, where the oilfields lie, is connected to Bahrain by a causeway. And its population is overwhelmingly Shia.)

Throughout North Africa the armed forces are the main, or sole, bulwark against radical Islamism.

The Saudis are very, very nervous. They have been urging the Bahrainis to take a hard line with the protestors, while at the same time announcing new giveaways of money for the average man in their own country. How secure the House of Saud really is remains to be seen, of course, but I would point to the fact that more jihadists come out of Saudi Arabia than any other Arab country. If Bahrain goes, and a Sadrist, pro-Iranian regime emerges in Iraq (as may very well happen in time — see my January 27article, “The Return of Moktada”), Saudi Arabia is probably doomed. At a minimum, the Eastern Province and its oil riches will be the target of Iranian pan-Shia propaganda and subversion. How the Saudis and the US will cope with such a situation appears problematical to say the least.

Even if the pro-Saudi ruling family holds on for the time being in Bahrain, one cannot but think that the tide of history is undergoing a major turn. The whole edifice of Western and especially American policy in the Middle East is crumbling. The majority of the peoples in the region have no love for us, or any strong interests in common with the Western world. We are witnessing not a liberation of the peoples as in 1989, but the end of a neocolonial epoch that began with the overthrow of the Ottoman Empire in World War I. In terms of economic impact, and particularly regarding energy, this will have a profound effect on an America already suffering from severe recession and catastrophic fiscal problems. And the effect on Israel will be even worse.

The history of revolution in countries with little or no tradition of self-government is instructive. Moderates overthrow oppressive autocrats, only to be removed by more ruthless and better organized actors — actors who are invariably more oppressive and murderous than the original autocrats. Robespierre, Lenin, Mao, Khomeini are the winners; the moderates are exterminated and the people are worse off than ever. When possible, popular discontent is then deflected upon an external enemy, as when the French Revolutionary armies swept over Western Europe. Such a future may await the West in the Middle East.




Share This


Cuba, While Collapsing

 | 

On January 14, President Obama announced that he would issue an executive order loosening US travel restrictions and remittances to Cuba. Though the administration has yet to spell out the details of the change in policy, several areas have been targeted.

Students seeking academic credit and church groups traveling for religious purposes will now be able to visit the island. But it’s the broadening of the definition of “cultural” groups permitted to travel to Cuba that could really open up the island to US tourism — depending on exactly what the new guidelines allow. The indications, according to Arthur Frommer, a travel guide writer, are that these, if not broad indeed, will be fuzzy enough to allow the entire head of the camel to slip into the tent. Additionally, authorized charter flights to the island will be able to depart from any US international airport equipped with proper customs and immigration facilities. Right now, only LAX, Miami, and New York City can offer flights to Cuba.

Predictably, Republicans reacted skeptically — or unfavorably. Hence, Obama’s end-run around Congress. But the reformed Cuban American National Foundation, once the hardest of hardliners, welcomed the proposal, stating that “it’s going to help the interaction between regular Cubans and US citizens; it’s going to help Cuban people inside the island to gain independence from the Cuban government, especially now that roughly a million will be without jobs” — a reference to Raúl Castro’s decision to reduce the government workforce.

Bribery has become endemic. It is, in effect, an institutionalized way of getting things done and maximizing foreign exchange.

Right now, because of currency transaction restrictions, cash is king, which means that US visitors must lard themselves with reams of the green stuff to last their stay — a situation vulnerable to scams and ripoffs. Luckily, Cuban moral standards in the crime-against-US-tourists realm have not depreciated noticeably. But they have snowballed in Cubans’ relations with their own government, an area in which there does seem to be a convoluted method to this madness.

US State Department memoranda, recently leaked by Wikileaks, between Washington DC and the US Interest Section (USINT) in Havana indicate that bribery — high, low, and everywhere — has become endemic. It is, in effect, an institutionalized way of getting things done and maximizing foreign exchange.

The leaks themselves, unlike some Iraqi and Afghan communiqués, are definitely not sensitive. In fact, ever since the profoundly anti-Castro James Cason became our “ambassador” in Havana in 2002, the USINT has — as an official policy position — decided to pour sugar into the Castros’ gas tank. It wouldn’t surprise me if our mission welcomed the leaks. According to the USINT’s website, “The objectives of USINT in Cuba is [sic] to promote a peaceful transition to a democratic system based on respect for rule of law, individual human rights and open economic and communication systems.”

The most recent propaganda war began in the late 1990s, when the Cuban government erected a billboard in front of the mission with a cartoon revolutionary shouting to Uncle Sam, “Señores Imperialistas ! No les tenemos absolutamente ningún miedo!” (Messrs. Imperialists! We have absolutely no fear of you!”) This was followed — during the Elián Gonzales case — by the building of the Jose MartíAnti-Imperialist Plaza just east of the mission, where rallies, protest meetings (particularly targeting US policy), and concerts are held. At first, the USINT pulled its punches by displaying innocuous Christmas figures of Santa Claus, Frosty the Snowman, and a sleigh — censored symbols of a past era. But then, in January 2006, the USINT unleashed the full weight and measure of American creativity. That month, a scrolling electronic billboard in the windows of the top floor of the mission began displaying a quotation by George Burns: “How sad that all the people who would know how to run this country are driving taxis or cutting hair.”

Ever since the profoundly anti-Castro James Cason became our “ambassador” in Havana in 2002, the USINT has — as an official policy position — decided to pour sugar into the Castros’ gas tank.

The Cuban government responded with a huge protest march and the erection of a large number of flagpoles flying black flags with white stars, in a vain attempt to shield the billboard (which brings to mind the old Cuban saying about the fool who tries to deny reality: “You can’t cover the sky with one hand over your eyes”). There was also a Granma International editorial condemning the billboard as “the systematic launching of the crudest insults of our people via the electronic billboard, which, in violation of the most elemental regulations of international law, they think they can maintain with impunity on the façade of that imperial lair.” Apparently, George hit the funny bone again.

Cuban corruption, according to the leaked communiqués, includes bribery, inappropriate “tips,” illegal commissions, influence peddling, graft, embezzlement of state resources, and every other sort of unauthorized expedient used to gain advantage — from the highest levels of the bureaucracy, to ordinary members of the Cuban Communist Party, to the police, the security organs and anti-corruption watchdogs, to professionals of every stripe, right down to the average citizen navigating the reefs of Cuban quotidian life.

Many of the cables refer to illegal commissions either paid to fictitious third parties and deposited in foreign banks or paid openly to the Cuban concessionary and deposited in open accounts. One memo, quoting a Swiss businessman, says, “Like any other place in the world, a million dollar contract assumes $100,000 in the bank [as commission to the Cuban provider].”

If planning to visit Cuba, bring lots of cash — or blue jeans, perfume, soap, spices, sporting and electronic equipment, whatever we usually take for granted in a free society.

A Cuban told the USINT political advisor that “some entire government departments are run as, in effect, mafia fiefdoms. The director of the state bread distribution department placed friends in central hubs and now controls the entire chain of state bakeries.” Along these lines, many of the state jobs most susceptible to skimming, graft, or rent seeking are available only on a commission basis from the functionary in control. As another memo stated, “For example, a position with access to gasoline can cost thousands of dollars because it would permit the beneficiary to traffic in the combustible. Employment in the tourist sector, with access to its tips, can cost hundreds of dollars. A job with Cimex (the import/export bureau) would cost more than $500.” Government departments in charge of transport, construction, health, and food distribution are thoroughly suborned and maintain parallel black markets in lumber, cement, paint, meat, drugs, and many other goods.

Another cable cites the case of a woman who admitted to having her teeth fixed “paying hard currency to a clandestine dental clinic, run by dentists from the Ministry of Health and furnished with equipment stolen from the state.”

Michael Parmly, chief of USINT from 2005 to 2008, writes that the police “are famous for taking bribes. They’re so corrupt that the government replaces the entire force with new recruits from the eastern extremity [rural backwaters] of the island periodically. With time, the rookies become as corrupt as the old hands and they need to be replaced with a new crop.”

A previous Spanish ambassador characterized the situation to the USINT in this way: “Corruption is necessary to survive. When in the majority of Latin American countries a corruption scandal consists of one person stealing $11 million, in Cuba it’s that each one of the 11 million Cubans steals one dollar.” In 2009 the USINT provided this summary to Washington: “Corruption in Cuba is an accepted tool of survival. Cubans average an income of $18 monthly, and the security organs are well aware of it.” Madrid’s El País adds,Nevertheless, conduct considered corrupt in the United States, such as conflicts of interest or influence peddling, is business as usual in Cuba. The authorities tolerate corruption up to a certain point, but for serious corruption they respond with severity.” Makes one wonder how they define “serious.”

Now corruption is not normally part of the libertarian theoretical arsenal. Nonetheless, in this case (and probably in others as well), I will attempt a defense of the practice.

First, it is a relief valve for the constraints placed on normal market activities by unrealistic regulations — especially when they are “regulations without representation.”

Second, “corruption” is more understandable within certain frameworks and traditions. Modern political systems that evolved from Roman tradition — a tradition based less on ideology than on personal loyalty, patronage, and nepotism — are often perceived as corrupt by people nurtured wholly within Enlightenment political tradition. The Roman tax collection system is particularly instructive. Government collected taxes by selling the position of tax collector to the highest bidder. The price was determined by an estimate of the taxes that could be collected. The revenue agent then pocketed whatever he could garner from taxpayers — that was the return on his investment.

The Castro regime attempted to shift the traditional order — extant under Batista and his predecessors, albeit modified considerably over time — to an ideologically-based system. The draconian approach failed. Now, if anything — and in spite of many Cubans’ naïve admiration for the ideals of socialism — ideologically-based standards have suffered a crushing blow. Damage has been done that will be difficult to reverse when the regime collapses.

Bradley K. Martin, in his account of North Korea and the Kim dynasty (Under the Loving Care of the Fatherly Leader), interviewed many defectors from the hermit kingdom. North Korea has a much worse reputation than Cuba. It is surprising, therefore, that the North Korean defectors’ attitudes have much in common with Cuban attitudes. For one thing, reverence and admiration for Kim the Elder is widespread — for fighting the Japanese and imperialism and for socialist idealism, which the defectors are at pains to reconcile with the North’s economic failure, the primary reason for their escape. Similarly, in Cuba much of the populace still admires Castro’s accomplishments and idealism.

“When in the majority of Latin American countries a corruption scandal consists of one person stealing $11 million, in Cuba it’s that each one of the 11 million Cubans steals one dollar.”

In the course of describing how things get done in North Korea, Martin quotes one defector’s eloquent defense of the country’s widespread corruption: “I feel it’s justified. The official works hard to [fulfill the petitioner’s request], so there should be a payoff for him. Above that official there may be higher officials. This lower official has to work hard to [get his own requests fulfilled], has to pay off higher-ups. I just thought that was the way things were. I thought it was understandable. This system is prevalent throughout society. For example, if I couldn’t make it to the factory one day, I’d see the manager and give him some gifts and ask him to look the other way. In North Korea most bribery involves goods, not money. When my father worked as an official at a county economic committee he received so many ‘presents’ from farmers — potatoes, green onions and so on. If a person receives a present in the form of goods, that’s a ‘friendly present’.”

Conchita, a woman I know, understands. The not-so-recent émigré’s extended family and friends keep trickling into the USA, while she keeps visiting people who are still on the island. Those experiences, and her American dream job, conducting publicity for one of the state lotteries, invest her with an extremely pragmatic attitude to government in all its forms. She cultivates contacts in official and unofficial, high and low places. Her advice, if planning to visit Cuba, is to bring lots of cash — or blue jeans, perfume, soap, spices, sporting and electronic equipment, whatever we usually take for granted in a free society — to facilitate every contingency and make a Cuban’s day.




Share This


It's the Population, Stupid

 | 

The Kyoto Protocol is an international treaty designed to lower global temperature by having industrialized countries reduce their greenhouse gas emissions. That the United States, the largest energy consumer, has not ratified the treaty frustrates climate control advocates. They do not understand our failure to embrace such a climate change hat trick: empower globalism (i.e., increase the power of the United Nations), augment environmentalism (i.e., enrich environmentalists), and, of course, regulate capitalism (i.e., punish free enterprise). It’s a win-win-win proposition, except for one problem. The scheme won’t work. World population guarantees stark failure.

This is not to say that we are on the verge of a Malthusian collapse. But no matter how zealously the apostles of climate control push their questionable emissions reduction schemes, there is no doubt that anthropogenic demography will trump anthropogenic temperature. Any emissions reduction goals that may possibly be achieved will be negated so readily and predictably that only colossal incompetence and irresponsibility can explain why global warming scientists proposed them in the first place.

To quantify this folly, let’s take a look at how Kyoto would play out with full US participation. Don’t be alarmed by the math. Remember, mathematics is the language of science (although the verdict is out on whether the global warming variety is actually scientific). In any case, this is only middle school algebra, and all the terms and numbers are from UN sources.

Annual global energy consumption (GEC) can be estimated by

         GEC = n1*c1 + n2*c2

where n1 is the population of the industrialized world (North America, Europe and Oceana) and c1 is its per capita energy consumption; and n2 and c2 are the corresponding parameters for the developing world (Asia, Africa and Latin America). According to 2010 UN population figures, n1 = 1.12 billion and n2 = 5.79 billion. According to the International Energy Agency (IEA), c1 = 4720 and c2 = 976, where these values are measured in kilograms of oil equivalent (KGOE). Thus, without Kyoto, the current GEC would be

         GEC = 1.12*4720 + 5.79*976 = 10,937 billion KGOEs.

Let r be the emissions reduction rate for industrialized countries. Since developing countries are not required to reduce emissions, annual GEC under the Kyoto scheme would be given by

         GEC = (1 — r)* n1*c1 + n2*c2.

Initially, a 5.2% emissions reduction below 1990 energy consumption levels was set for industrialized countries. But for this illustrative analysis, let’s assume a 10% reduction from 2010 levels. Then, with US participation, the current GEC would be

         GEC = (1 — 0.1)* 1.12*4720 + 5.79*976

          = 10,409 billion KGOEs.

Thus, if the US joined other industrialized countries in reducing emissions by 10%, a GEC of 10,409 billion KGOEs would be achieved — a level that would eventually reduce global temperature by a degree or so, the proponents hope. That is, we must continue at this level until the International Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) tells us that environmental catastrophe has been averted — at least until 2050. However, in 2050, n1 = 1.19 billion and n2 = 7.96 billion. Then, GEC will be

         GEC = (1 — 0.1)* 1.19*4720 + 7.96*976

          = 12,824 billion KGOEs.

Oops! That’s a 2,415 billion increase over the planet-saving 10,409 level. Scientists at the IPCC apparently forgot to take into account the 37% population increase in developing countries. No problem. The emissions reduction rate required for industrialized countries to bring world GEC back into alignment can be easily found by solving for r:

         r = (GEC — n2*c2)/n1*c1

          = (10,409 - 7.96*976)/1.19*4720 = 0.47.

Oops, again! And, this time, it’s a very inconvenient oops. At 47%, we’ll have to try 4.7 times harder than before. If you have turned your thermostat down three degrees to save Mother Earth today (e.g., from 75 degrees to the Obama-recommended 72 degrees), plan on turning it down over 14 degrees by 2050. At 47%, the Prius of 2050 might be the ten-speed bicycle; the Energy Star clothes dryer, the clothesline.

It gets worse — much worse. With their cheap labor and emissions reduction exemptions, developing countries will become the manufacturers of the most energy-intensive products used by developed countries. Among other products, they will, no doubt, produce all of our windmills and solar panels. Their factories will use more energy and their, now wealthier, employees will increase purchases of products (electrical appliances, automobiles, etc.) that consume more energy. Therefore, assume, quite reasonably, that developing countries increase per capita energy consumption to, say, 1300 KGOEs — a 33% increase, but still a small fraction of what people in developed countries consume. In this case, the 2050 GEC would be

         GEC = (1 — 0.47)* 1.19*4720 + 7.96*1300

          = 13,325 billion KGOEs.

Oops, again! And, this time, it’s a fatal oops. Even with the industrialized world complying at a 47% emissions reduction rate, a slight 324 KGOE increase in developing world energy consumption results in a 2916 billion increase over the 10,409 level needed to save the planet.

Luckily, solving the above equation for a new planet-saving emissions rate is unnecessary. Noting that 7.96*1300 = 10,348, energy consumption by developing countries alone effectively breaks the planet-saving energy budget of 10,409. That is, under UN-projected population growth and a reasonable estimate of energy consumption growth in developing countries, the emissions reduction rate for industrialized countries required to make the Kyoto scheme work is 100%.

The Kyoto Protocol is a parasitic scheme in which the population of developing countries acts as an inherent flaw, bounding the effectiveness of the scheme to a level well below that required for its success. Proponents would have us believe that emissions reduction by industrialized countries is the solution. But, as shown above, the Kyoto goal is unachievable even in the 100% reduction case. It is the population growth of developing countries that bounds Kyoto’s success. Ignoring it ensures Kyoto’s failure. Under Kyoto-style schemes, global temperature will be as unconstrained as the delusions of climate control advocates.

It’s one thing to propose a stupid plan. Sometimes, even a stupid plan has a chance of eventual success. But it’s quite another to propose a plan that defies middle school algebra.

Congratulations! If you made it this far, you are smarter than a global warming scientist.




Share This


Welcome, Oscar

 | 

I wasn't a fan of the Motion Picture Academy's decision to expand its field of Best Picture nominees to a crowded 10. But maybe the Academy is onto something. This year it has given its membership the opportunity to recognize a range of work that includes small independent films, big-budget blockbusters, thoughtful biographies, an animated film, a comedy (of sorts), and even an old-fashioned western.

With one exception, I have reviewed all the nominees in Liberty — and I have “viewed” that exception, even though I didn't review it. I don't know which of these fine films will take home the statue, but I think I'll be satisfied this year no matter what. Here is a quick review of each of the Best Picture nominees.

Inception. The most exciting, astounding film of the year, this psychological thriller stunned audiences with its mindboggling cityscapes folding into themselves, how'd-they-do-that weightlessness, multiple layers of reality, and action scenes worthy of a James Bond film. Added to all that are the creative musical score by Hans Zimmer (also nominated for an Oscar); knock-out performances by Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Leonardo DiCaprio, and Marion Cotillard; and an intellectual script that challenges the viewers' perception of reality and of how beliefs are formed. Months after the film’s release, fans are still arguing about its central meaning: the action takes place inside a dream, but whose dream is it? (I know — do you?) Unaccountably, writer-director Christopher Nolan was shut out of the nominations for Best Director. Also, the film was probably too popular at the box office to take home the prize. But I'm glad to see it nominated. It’s my favorite studio film this year.

Winter's Bone. This rugged little indie film was my happiest surprise of the morning when the nominees were announced. Ree Dolley (Jennifer Lawrence, nominated for Best Actress) is the most libertarian heroine in the movies this year. When her meth-lab father puts the family farm up for collateral with a bail bondsman, then vanishes from town, Ree must track him down and bring him to court to keep from forfeiting the homestead. She is the kind of self-reliant heroine one can genuinely admire. A high school student raising her two young siblings, she briefly considers joining the Army to take advantage of the $40,000 enlistment bonus — but she does not consider turning to the government for welfare handouts. Despite her family's deep poverty, there is no evidence of social workers, child protective services, section 8 housing, or even food stamps. The film is set in the Ozarks, in a closed, insulated community where people eat off the land, or they don't eat at all; and Ree manages not only to eat but to triumph over her difficult surroundings. I'm delighted that this film will be brought back for viewing, now that it has been nominated for Best Picture.

127 Hours. If Ree Dolley is the most libertarian heroine of 2010, Aron Ralston (James Franco, nominated for Best Actor) of 127 Hours is her male counterpart. When Aron gets pinned by a large boulder after falling into a crevasse while hiking in a Utah canyon, he sets to work figuring out how to free himself – which he does in a heroic and horrifying way. This film could have been claustrophobic and gratuitously graphic, but instead it is a celebration of level-headed innovation and the drive for self-preservation. Moreover, it is a powerful metaphor for life in the new millennium. We hurtled our way through the go-go ’90s, pumped up by a soaring stock market and roaring real estate investments, only to be pinned down by boulders that were, as Aron philosophizes, “there all along, just waiting to meet me in that canyon.” Too many people waste precious time crying over their problems or waiting for “someone” (read: the government) to fix them. But as Aron Ralston’s story clearly demonstrates, the key to success is to assume that no one is coming to bail you out. Instead of worrying about the cellphoneyou don’t have, assess the tools you do have. Keep a positive spirit. Be resourceful and self-reliant. Be a problem-solver. Remember to thank the people in your life and tell them that you love them. And don’t be afraid to let go of the thing that is holding you back, even if it is as precious as an arm.

The Fighter. This film about boxing brothers Dicky Eklund and Micky Ward received its nomination largely on the strength of its cast and director (David O. Russell, also nominated). The film boasts three Best Supporting nominations, and each of them is richly deserved. Christian Bale seems to be Hollywood's go-to guy when directors need an actor to lose a ton of weight (The Machinist, Rescue Dawn), but it isn't just the weight-loss that garnered Bale the nomination. As the wide-eyed, hyped-up, drug-addled, former boxing legend Dicky Eklund, he lights up the screen with his cocaine-induced enthusiasm and gut-wrenching pathos. And Melissa Leo, who plays the family’s hard-driving, chain-smoking, no-nonsense matriarch in tight pants and high heels, is my favorite Supporting Actress of the year. Leo is over-the-top perfect in this role, from the moment she prances into the gym, clipboard in hand, to supervise Micky's training session. Alice is the ultimate stage mother: pushy, strong, manipulative, and naively confident in her ability to manage her sons’ careers. Going head-to-head with her, on Oscar night and in the film, is Amy Adams as Micky's girlfriend Charlene, who stands up ferociously to the matriarch and her seven big-haired daughters in this film. Adams is a skilled actress, at home playing charming ingénues in romantic comedies or gritty working girls in dysfunctional dramas like this one. But Leo is my Oscar choice, because of her performance in The Fighter and also because I admired her equally strong performance as the investigator in this year's weaker prison film, Conviction. Mark Wahlberg's performance as Micky is strong as well, but he wasn't nominated for an Oscar, possibly because he's the straight man in the cast, and those characters are often overlooked by the Academy. It's a shame, because Wahlberg shepherded this story for several years and is the driving force behind the film.

The King's Speech. Let's get serious now. While the films listed above are my personal favorites this year, The King's Speech is the film that I expect (and hope, since it is better than those listed below) to see storming the stage at the end of Oscar night. It's a film about triumph over personal and public obstacles, as the unassuming man who would become King George VI struggles to overcome his speech impediment and prepares to lead England during World War II. Colin Firth and Geoffrey Rush are glorious as the prince and the speech therapist, sparring like equals despite their difference in social class. Helena Bonham Carter captures the tender affection and twinkling eye that would characterize Elizabeth, the Queen Mum, throughout her life. All three are nominated. Indeed, The King's Speech leads the pack for nominations, with an even dozen. It is likely to walk away with at least half of those.

The Social Network. Mark Zuckerberg isn't even 30 yet, and already he's been immortalized with a film about him. Reportedly the multibillionaire whiz kid, who changed the way people communicate with one another when he created Facebook (even I use it now!), isn't very happy about the way he is portrayed in the movie. But no matter — this film is going to be the way people remember and define Mark Zuckerberg. A fascinating look at the relationships among conception, production, and capitalization in a startup business, the film focuses on the intellectual property lawsuit brought by classmates against Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg, nominated for Best Actor) and the frenzied atmosphere that surrounded the beginning of the business. The musical score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross(also nominated) contributes to that atmosphere and is likely to win.

True Grit.Wouldn't it be fun if Jeff Bridges (nominated for Best Actor) won in this category? Then we would have two men receiving Oscars for the same role, and both for the wrong reasons. Let's face it — John Wayne was a star, not an actor.He was good in True Grit (1969), but there was nothing outstanding about his performance. It was just his turn, and everyone knew it. Jeff Bridges’ Rooster Cogburn is better in every way than Wayne's. But better than Colin Firth in The King's Speech? Or Jesse Eisenberg in The Social Network? Or James Franco in 127 Hours? It's an impressive field of actors this year, and Bridges should be grateful that Crazy Heart came out last year instead (he won the Oscar for that film). Nevertheless, I could see the Academy voting for Bridges, just for the notoriety of having two men win for the same role. Cynicism aside, I have to report that this is a wonderful movie. But it's Hailee Steinfeld (nominated for Best Supporting Actress) as Mattie Ross, not Jeff Bridges, who lifts the film to greatness. Whether she's negotiating with horse traders, sparring with Texas Ranger LaBoeuf (Matt Damon), or confronting Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin), the man who killed her father, she dominates each scene with her combination of spunk, courage, intelligence, and vulnerability. Her relationship with Rooster develops slowly and genuinely, building to the scene where he literally drives her horse into the ground as he races against time to save her. It's a thrilling film in every sense. Those Coen Brothers (nominated for Best Director) can do just about anything.

Toy Story 3.Pixar was a brand new animation company when it introduced Toy Story in1995, and the franchise has grown stronger with each installment of this clever series and its cast of beloved toys led by Woody, Buzz, Jessie, and Mr. Potato Head. Now Andy, their owner, has grown up, and as he goes off to college his mother encourages him to donate his old toys to a neighborhood preschool. Their zany adventures continue as they try to survive the rough-and-tumble children and get back home to Andy. As witty and poignant as any of the films in the series, Toy Story 3 deserves its nomination for Best Picture. Incidentally, Andy's decision to give his toys to a neighbor girl, while perhaps satisfying popular cultural values, broke this mother's heart. I want Andy to come back five years from now with a family of his own who will play with his old toys!

Black Swan is a satisfying psychological thriller that explores what it means for a performer to enter a role and become a character. Nina (Natalie Portman, nominated for Best Actress) is technically a superb ballerina, but she lacks the depth of character to reach into the dark soul of the black swan in "Swan Lake." As she prepares for the role she must deal with an overbearing mother, a lecherous director, a creepy competitor, and her own repressed sexuality. Not my favorite film of the year, but certainly a creative and visually impressive work.

The Kids Are All Right. I haven't watched this film, but I've seen it. I was flying across country two days before Christmas in one of those planes with individual movie screens in the back of each seat that allow passengers to choose their own entertainment. I was quietly minding my own business, playing Trivial Pursuit, when I suddenly received an eyeful from the screen between the seats in front of me: two naked men were simulating sex on a screen within the screen, followed by what looked like a stern talking to from a concerned Annette Bening — evidently the "son who's all right" was caught watching porn. A few moments later I glanced in that direction again and saw Bening apparently watching TV in bed. Suddenly her blankets started rumbling like an earthquake, she started smiling, and Julianne Moore emerged from under the sheets. And then the men's naked bodies were onscreen again (I guess Mom #1 needed to discuss it with Mom #2, or something). I stopped playing my game and opened a book so I wouldn't have to look in that direction anymore. I don't pretend to know what this film is about, and I don't have an opinion about whether it deserves an Oscar nomination. I just don't think a version offering unedited, unexpected nudity should have been shown on a Christmas flight full of children. Or old fogeys like me.




Share This


The Return of Moktada

 | 

On January 5th, radical Shia cleric Moktada al-Sadr returned to Iraq from more than three years of self-imposed exile in Iran. He brought with him the specter of renewed violence in that war-torn country.

For those readers who have done their best to forget America’s Iraq misadventure, here’s a bit of background. Al-Sadr is the son of a revered Shia imam who was murdered by Saddam Hussein in 1999. He became prominent by leading Shia opposition to the American occupation after 2003. In 2004 his militia, the Mahdi Army, twice battled U.S. troops. Though not victorious, the Sadrists lived to fight another day. Al-Sadr also avoided arrest by U.S. forces on a warrant issued against him for the murder of another cleric. America thus failed to nip in the bud the young cleric’s militant movement.

During the civil war of 2006-07, the Sadrists carried out brutal sectarian cleansings in Baghdad and elsewhere. Even the onset of the American surge of ground troops in early 2007 failed to slow the pace of the carnage. At the same time, the Mahdi Army began to slip out of al-Sadr’s control; by the summer of 2007 the frenzy of violence caused even many Shia to turn against the Sadrists. Then the weight of American power began to have an effect; many Sadrist cadres were killed or captured by US troops. At the end of August al-Sadr declared a unilateral ceasefire and took himself off to the Iranian holy city of Qom, where he sought safety and the opportunity to polish the rather rough edges he had displayed as a political and religious leader.

In his absence the government of Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki, given a breathing space by the apparent success of the Surge, was able to consolidate its hold on power. In early 2008 Iraqi government forces, backed by US and British logistical, intelligence, and air support, defeated the Sadrists first in Basra, Iraq’s second-largest city, and then (though less decisively) in Baghdad itself. The Sadrist movement had reached its low point. Even so, however, it had once again survived. “We may have wasted an opportunity . . . to kill those that needed to be killed,” an anonymous US official stated at the time. Today that official looks more and more like a prophet.

After the Basra and Baghdad defeats the Sadrists eschewed the gun in favor of the ballot. They scored surprising successes in local elections in 2009. Then, in national elections this past March, they emerged as the second largest Shia bloc, barely trailing al-Maliki’s party. As a result, al-Sadr became a kingmaker; Maliki’s reappointment as prime minister in late 2010 was possible only because the Sadrists supported him. In return they received ministerial posts and at least one provincial governorship. They are in the enviable position of having power without true responsibility: if the government succeeds, they will share in the credit; if it fails, they will blame al-Maliki and bring the government down. The Sadrists have made it clear that al-Maliki has only so much time to restore services, revive the economy, and end what’s left of the American occupation.

An anonymous US official stated that “We may have wasted an opportunity . . . to kill those that needed to be killed.”

The question of a continued American presence is a vexing one for all concerned — except the Sadrists. There are less than 50,000 US troops left in the country. Under an agreement negotiated by the Bush administration, all US forces are supposed to leave by the end of 2011. The Obama administration has stated that it would consider an extension of the US military presence only if Iraq requests it. Al-Maliki would very much like to see some US troops remain, as would the Kurds and most of the Sunnis. But al-Maliki risks looking like an American puppet if he asks for an extended troop presence. The Sadrists, on the other hand, are unequivocally opposed to any US troops remaining after the Dec. 31, 2011 deadline. Their attitude is not merely designed to appeal to Iraqi nationalist feeling. At some point in the future the Sadrists could decide to seize power. They probably would have a good chance of succeeding, provided US troops are not available to stop them.

The US State Department is supposed to take over the American role in Iraq’s security after 2011. Its active arm will be thousands of contractors (that is, mercenaries) whom it has been hiring and trying to put in place before the last uniformed Americans depart. While the Wikileaks revelations have shown that US diplomats are an intelligent and dedicated group of professionals, the idea of putting diplomats in charge of security in a place like Iraq seems a dicey proposition indeed. The employment of contractors will undoubtedly lead to incidents in which Iraqi civilians are killed. The reaction of the Iraqi populace, and specifically the remaining militias, is all too easy to predict. Recall the burned bodies of American contractors hanging from a bridge in 2003.

The Sunni insurgency, despite heavy blows inflicted by US and Iraqi forces, remains able to carry out widespread and damaging attacks. It may in fact be on the brink of a resurgence, for many Sunnis who joined the pro-US, pro-government Awakening movement have grown disaffected with a Shia-dominated government that has cut back on cash payments and jobs for Sunnis.

We have then the makings of a new explosion in Iraq, with no prospect of an American “Surge II” should the worst occur. Into this maelstrom steps Moktada, the prophet and redeemer of the Shia masses and of the armed fanatics who thirst to avenge past beatings received at the hands of the Americans and al-Maliki. One is reminded of the situation in St. Petersburg in 1917, with al-Maliki in the role of Kerensky and al-Sadr as the “plague bacillus,” Lenin. Admittedly the two men are, for the present, partners, which Kerensky and Lenin never were. But one cannot help but feel that, given the past, their paths must diverge. It may be one, or two, or four years before the situation plays out. But I can’t help but think that one or the other of these men is going to wind up dead.

 




Share This


A Cigar

 | 

In my youth, I was spoiled for a long time. No one really spoiled me. I took care to spoil myself, again and again. But the bitch Reality often intruded.

I was spending a dream summer on a small Mexican island on the Caribbean. Everyone should have at least one dream summer, I think, and no one should wait for old age. I had several dream summers myself. Anyway, my then-future-ex-wife, or TFEW (pronounced as spelled) and I were renting one of four joined concrete cubes right on the beach, on the seaward side of the island.

There was no running water in the cell but you could clear the indoor toilet with a bucket of seawater. You could also buy a bucket of nearly fresh water for a shower. There was a veranda and the doors locked. We slept in our own hammocks outside in the sea breeze most nights, although there was a cot inside. We also cooked on our butane stove on the veranda. We thought it was all cool. There was a million-dollar ocean view (probably an underestimate).

To feed ourselves, we bought pounds of local oranges and bread baked daily. Mostly, I dived for fish and spiny lobster all day. It got to the point where we grew tired of lobster. I even went to the water's edge slaughterhouse early one morning to compete for some shreds of bleeding turtle meat. Turtle meat, it turns out, looks like beef, but it tastes like old fish. Then I invented new ways of cooking lobster. The TFEW was a good soldier who liked reading. Also, her patience was frequently rewarded (but I am too much the gentleman to expand on this).

One morning, I woke up by myself near dawn and prepared my Nescafé, bent down on the small butane stove set on the tiled floor of the veranda. I looked up to the sea for a second and I was hit by a scene from the great Spanish director Luis Buñuel. Less than one hundred yards from me, bobbing up and down but stationary, was a low wooden boat packed with about 50 or 60 people just standing silently. They were not talking, they were not shouting, and they were not moving. It was like a dream, of course, but I knew I was not dreaming. Quickly, details came into focus. One detail was that one of the people in the boat wore a khaki uniform and the characteristic hat of the Cuban militia. Goddamn, I thought, this is what I have been reading and seeing on television for years! It's the real thing!

Then the practical part of my brain took over. I tried to yell at them that my rocky beach was not a good place to land. One made a gesture indicating they could not hear me because of the small breakers. Bravely, I abandoned my undrunk Nescafé and dived into the waters I knew well, because I had taken a dozen lobsters right there, under the same rocks, in front of my door. I did the short swim in a minute or two, and hanging from the side of the boat I told them how to go around a nearby point past which there was a real harbor. They thanked me in a low voice, like very tired people, in a language that was clearly Spanish but that sounded almost comical to my ears.

An hour later, I walked to the harbor where the main café also was to find out about my refugees. Naturally, I felt a little possessive of them since I had discovered them all by myself. Soon after I arrived, they started coming out of processing by the local Mexican authorities. (Incidentally, I think I witnessed there a model of humane efficiency worth mentioning.) Each walked toward the café, an envelope of Mexican pesos in hand.

A tall, skinny black Cuban spotted me, from earlier in the morning, when I was in the water. He walked briskly to me and took me in his arms. It was moving but pretty natural, since I was the first free human being he had laid eyes on in his peril-fraught path to freedom. He spoke very quickly with an accent I was not used to. What perplexed me is that he kept saying “negro,” with great emotion. After a few seconds in his embrace, I realized he was calling me, “mi negro.” I wondered for an instant how I had become a Negro's Negro. Then it came back to me, out of some long buried reading, that Cuban men sometimes call their mistress “mi negra,” irrespective of color, the overt color reference serving as a term of endearment, of tenderness.

I took my new buddy to the café to buy him breakfast. He pulled out my chair ceremoniously and took an oblong metallic object out of the breast pocket of his thin synthetic shirt. This he handed to me with tears in his eyes. Inside was a long Cuban cigar. I did not have the heart to tell him I did not like cigars. I smoked the damn thing until my stomach floated in my throat. He watched beatifically, in the lucid understanding that that little act testified to his personal victory against the barbarism of communism.




Share This


Latin America: Autumn of the Antipodes?

 | 

In response to last November’s flooding, mudslides, and destruction of homes that left tens of thousands of Venezuelans destitute in makeshift shelters, Hugo Chávez went camping to show solidarity with his people. The luxurious tent was a gift from Libyan strongman Muammar Gaddafi. Piling insult atop bad grace, Chávez was photographed inspecting the devastation in a Cuban(!) military uniform. He is not one to dwell on the negative. Instead of looking grave, concerned, and statesmanlike, he pursed his lips and spread his cheeks in a smirk that bordered on the manic, sticking his head out the window of a Jeep like a dog without good sense. Not since Mexican President Antonio López de Santa Anna (he of the Alamo) buried his leg with full military honors has a Latin American leader been this much fun.

But for Chávez, the bigger crisis is his impending loss of power. Though the 2010 parliamentary elections netted his United Socialist Party 95 seats, the opposition, successfully united, won 64 seats, thus depriving Chávez of the two-thirds and three-fifths majorities required to pass organic and enabling legislation or fiddle further with the constitution. But never mind, Hugo has a plan.

He requested that the lame-duck legislators grant him unlimited powers to rule by decree for 18 months, limit legislative sessions to four days a month, turn control of all parliamentary commissions over to the executive branch, limit parliamentary speeches to 15 minutes per member, restrict broadcasts of assembly debates to only government channels, and penalize party-switching by legislators with the loss of their seats. The lame duck legislators dutifully complied. Vice President Elías Jaua says the powers are necessaryto pass laws dealing with vital services after the disaster and with such areas as infrastructure, land use, banking, defense and the “socio-economic system of the nation.” For good measure, the lame-duck Chavista legislature also passed a law barring non-governmental organizations such ashuman rights groupsfrom receiving US funding; another law terminating the autonomy of universities; more broadcasting and telecommunications controls; and the creation of “socialist communes” to bypass local governments.

Not since Santa Anna buried his leg with full military honors has a Latin American leader been this much fun.

Opposition newspaper editor Teodoro Petkoff called it a “Christmas ambush,” writing in his daily Tal Cual that Chavez is preparing totalitarian measures that amount to “a brutal attack . . . against democratic life.” Chavez’s end-run around the new National Assembly, which convened on January 5, was blatantly illegal, as such emergency powers can only be granted by the legislature to cover a period within the term of the legislature in office. Chávez demanded powers that extend well beyond the previous legislature’s term and effectively emasculate the new legislature, which would never have given him the two-thirds vote he would need, since 40% of its members are in opposition. Venezuelans have reacted with roadblocks and peaceful but energetic massive resistance. Security forces and government thugs have counter-reacted violently. Many people have been injured, not only physically, but economically as well. On New Year's Eve the Bolivar was halved in value, from 2.6 to the dollar to 4.3.

The most infamous precedent for this maneuver was the German Reichstag’s March 1933 enabling law granting Adolf Hitler the right to enact laws by decree for four years, making him dictator of Germany. No doubt the affair will end up in court — decided by Chávez-appointed judges. Still, it’s only a matter of time before the ship of state either turns or crashes.

By contrast, Sebastián Piñera, Chile’s new president, responded to the March 2010 earthquake with grace and alacrity; and six months later rallied the country behind the 33 miners trapped for 70 days in a deep mine cave-in. Unlike President Obama, in his autarkic response to the BP fiasco, Piñera requested and received international assistance. But Piñera is perhaps more notable as the poster boy of a subtle, newly evolving trend throughout Latin America, a trend only now being recognized: the “normalization” of its politics.

Normalization means the peaceful alternation of center-left with center-right governments, which is the status quo in most developed, liberal democracies. Piñera, a center-right candidate, followed two decades of center-left government.

By definition, normalization is dull, boring, and bereft of transformational ideals. But it is nonetheless great news, especially when compared to the radical swings of the past, when left-wing revolutions followed right-wing golpes de estado (or vice versa). The inevitable mayhem, war, and death were always followed by authoritarian regimes.

Chávez demanded powers that extend well beyond the previous legislature’s term and effectively emasculate the new legislature.

In Chile, the Marxist government of Salvador Allende, which had begun to forcibly expropriate property, was overthrown by a military coup after inflation exceeded 140%. To restore order, General Augusto Pinochet brutally imposed a right-wing authoritarian regime. To his credit, however, he laid the groundwork for the political and fiscal stability Chile now enjoys. He invited the so-called Chicago Boys — Milton Friedman and his acolytes — to design a stable and prosperous economic framework, and he relinquished power slowly and honestly by means of a new constitution and open plebiscites. In 1989, Pinochet lost an election to the Concertación, the center-left coalition that would hold power until Piñera’s election.

As Fernando Mires, a Chilean political science professor at the University of Oldenburg, Germany, has observed, “Everything that does not directly deal with war and death, is a game.” Politics is a game, and games require rules. Once war and death enter the scene, the game of politics is over. Latin America is now anteing up to the table. Though not always perfectly correlated, political stability goes hand-in-hand with some degree of fiscal and institutional stability — preconditions for people’s ability to lead healthy, productive lives.

Independence and Chaos

When Father Miguel Hidalgo’s Grito de Dolores declared Mexican independence from Spain on September 16, 1810, it began a protracted independence movement throughout the continent. Two days later, Chile, at the other end of Latin America, instituted de facto home rule. To be sure, Haiti had already defeated Napoleon in 1804 to gain independence, and Cuba would throw off Spanish rule with US help as late as 1898 (and, some would argue, didn’t actually achieve full independence until the Castro regime nullified the Platt Amendment, which gave the US Congress a veto power over foreign affairs). But the main course of events took place within two decades.

In 1821, Spain recognized Mexico’s independence. By 1823, after it had recognized the independence of much of the rest of Latin America (with Portugal ceding Brazil in 1822), US president James Monroe felt comfortable enough to declare the Americas a European-free zone, in spite of Spanish forces still holding out in what was to become Bolivia.

Latin American independence movements were products of the Enlightenment, influenced by the US Declaration of Independence and subsequent constitution — in the context of the times, left-wing revolutions. But, as Marxist commentators never fail to decry, the American revolutions were not “true,” social revolutions, but rather bourgeois realignments. The original Spanish conquest had left most of the basic indigenous structures of authority intact, replacing Moctezuma and Atahualpa with the throne of Madrid. Latin American independence movements recapitulated that strategy, replacing the Spanish aristocracy with homegrown landed gentry.

Meanwhile, a new model of revolution had emerged: the French Revolution, in which the ideals of the Enlightenment metastasized into a nightmare. The monarchy was decapitated; the ancien regime gone; an empire was founded. Traditional concepts of how societies ought to be organized had been put aside.

In Latin America, would-be liberators, criticized from both Right and Left, became disillusioned and turned away from democracy. Up north, Agustín de Iturbide, the Mexican heir of a wealthy Spanish father, switched sides to fight for Mexican independence and declared himself emperor of Mexico; Santa Anna, another side-switcher, overthrew him and established a republic, then a dictatorship. Santa Anna ended up ruling Mexico on 11 non-consecutive occasions over a period of 22 years. Asked about the loss of his republican ideals, he declared,

It is very true that I threw up my cap for liberty with great ardor, and perfect sincerity, but very soon found the folly of it. A hundred years to come my people will not be fit for liberty. They do not know what it is, unenlightened as they are, and under the influence of a Catholic clergy, a despotism is the proper government for them, but there is no reason why it should not be a wise and virtuous one.

This general sentiment came to be shared by most of Latin America’s liberators.

Meanwhile, Central America (including the Mexican state of Chiapas but excluding Panama), and known as the Captaincy General of Guatemala, seceded from Mexico, becoming “The Federal Republic of Central America” after a short-lived land grab by Mexican Emperor Iturbide who pictured his empire extending from British Columbia to the other Colombia. The Federal Republic didn’t last. In the 1830s Rafael Carrera, led a revolt that sundered it. By 1838, Carrera ruled Guatemala; in the 1860’s he briefly controlled El Salvador, Honduras, and Nicaragua as well, though they remained nominally independent.

Not one to be left behind, the Dominican Republic jumped on the bandwagon in 1821, but was quickly invaded by Haiti. Not until 1844 was the eastern half of Santo Domingo able to go its own way. Sandwiched between Cuba and Puerto Rico (both still held by Spain), in 1861 the Dominican Republic — in a move unique in all Latin America — requested recolonization, having found the post-independence chaos untenable. Spain gladly acquiesced. The US protested but, mired in its own civil war, was unable to enforce the Monroe Doctrine. In 1865, the Dominican Republic declared independence for a second time.

Sebastián Piñera, Chile’s new president, represents a subtle trend only now being recognized: the “normalization” of Latin American politics.

South America fared no better. Simon Bolívar, after a series of brilliant campaigns that criss-crossed the continent, created the unstable Gran Colombia, a state encompassing modern Colombia, Panama, Venezuela, and Ecuador, with himself as president — a model Hugo Chávez aspires to emulate. Bolívar then headed to Peru, to wrest power from Joséde San Martín, its liberator. Bolívar was declared dictator, but the Spanish still held what is now Bolivia. He finished San Martín’s job by liberating it and separating it from Peru. The new state was christened with his name. By 1828, Gran Colombia proved unmanageable, so Bolívar declared himself dictator, a move that ended in failure and more chaos.

Southern South America was liberated by San Maríin and Bernardo O’Higgins, with Chile and Argentina going their separate ways. In Chile, Bernardo O’Higgins turned from Supreme Director into dictator, was ousted, and was replaced by another dictator. A disgusted San Martín exiled himself to Europe, abandoning Argentina to a fate of civil war and strongmen. Uruguay and Paraguay carved themselves a niche — but only after Uruguay’s sovereignty had been contested by newly independent Brazil. In Paraguay, José Rodriguez de Francia, Consul of Paraguay (a title unique to Latin America) became in 1816 “El Supremo” for life. An admirer of the French revolution — and in particular of Rousseau and Robespierre — he imposed an extreme autarky, closing Paraguay’s borders to all trade and travel; abolishing all military ranks above captain, and insisting that he personally officiate at all weddings. He also ordered all dogs in the country to be shot.

Strongmen and Stability

The Latin American wars of independence were succeeded by aborted attempts at unity or secession; wars of conquest, honor, and spite; land grabs, big and little uprisings, civil wars; experiments in democracy, republicanism, federation, dictatorship, monarchy, anarchy, and rule by warlords or filibusters; and even reversion to colonialism; all with radical “left-right” swings — in a word, by every imaginable state of affairs, none long lasting. It all culminated in the era of the caudillo: a populist military strongman, usually eccentric, sentimental, long-ruling, and (roughly speaking) right-wing.

In his novel Autumn of the Patriarch, Colombian author (and confidante of Fidel Castro) Gabriel García Márquez offers a profile of a caudillo that has yet to be surpassed. The stream-of-consciousness, 270-page, 6-sentence prose “poem on the solitude of power” was based on Colombia’s Gustavo Rojas Pinilla (1953–57) and Venezuela’s Juan Vicente Gómez (1908–1935), with dashes of Franco and Stalin thrown in. But its indeterminate timelessness, stretching from who-knows-when to forever, also evokes Mexico’s Porfirio Díaz (1876–1911), Paraguay’s Alfredo Stroessner (1954–89), the Dominican Republic’s Rafael Trujillo (1930–61), and Nicaragua’s Anastasio Somoza (1936–56). It could also easily include Brazil’s Getulio Vargas (1930-54), Argentina’s Juan Perón (1946–55 and 1973–76), Haiti’s “Papa Doc” and “Baby Doc” Duvalier (1957–86), and, yes, the longest ruling military strongman of all — Fidel Castro (1959–201?).

The caudillo period had no specific time frame; it was rather a response to instability (or injustice, in the case of left-caudillos) that varied over time, country, and cultural conditions. Take Mexico for example. Besides the usual post-independence chaos, it also suffered invasions from the US and France. So, in 1846, Porfirio Díaz, an innkeeper’s son and sometime theology student, left his law studies to join the army — first, to fight the US, then to fight Santa Anna in one of the latter’s multiple bids for power, and finally to fight the French-imposed Emperor Maximilian.

Politics is a game, and games require rules. Once war and death enter the scene, the game of politics is over.

In the war against Maxmillian, Díaz rose to become division general under Benito Juárez’ leadership but retired after Mexican forces triumphed and Juárez assumed the presidency in 1868. It didn’t take long for Díaz to become disillusioned. One principle that had developed in Mexican politics and ironically — especially considering the nearly 35 years in power that Díaz would enjoy — became institutionalized, was one-term presidential term limits. So when Juárez announced for a second term in 1870, Díaz opposed him. Losing, he cried fraud and issued a pronunciamento, a formal declaration of insurrection and plan of action accompanied by the pomp and publicity emblematic of Mexican politics. After another pronunciamento and additional revolts much politicking, and a term in Congress, Díaz succeeded in ousting his adversaries. He was elected president in 1877. Having based his campaign on a platform of “no reelection," he reluctantly stepped aside after one term and turned over the presidency to an underling, whose incompetence and corruption ensured Díaz’s victory in the 1884 contest.

He set out to establish a pax Porfiriana by (as he termed it) eliminating divisive politics and focusing on administration. The former was achieved by stuffing the legislature, the courts, and high government offices with cronies; making all local jurisdictions answerable to him; instituting a “pan o palo” (bread or a beating) policy, enforced by strong military and police forces; artfully playing the various entrenched interests against each other; and stealing every election. Porfirio Díaz opened Mexico up to foreign investment, built roads and public works, stabilized the currency, and developed the country to such a degree that it was compared economically to Germany and France.

Classifying caudillos as Left or Right is not always easy. Caudillos who focused on economic development, fiscal stability, and monumental public works are generally perceived as right-wing, while those who improved education, fought church privilege, or imposed economic controls are perceived as left-wing. Nearly all were initially motivated by idealism, followed by disillusionment with democracy and addiction to power. Nearly all lined their pockets. Venezuela alone, between 1830 and 1899, experienced nearly 70 years of serial caudillo rule, which, some would argue, continued intermittently to the present.

In Ecuador, 35 right-wing years initiated by a caudillo were followed by 35 left-wing years initiated by another caudillo. General Gabriel García Moreno had saved the country from disintegration in 1859 and established a Conservative regime that wasn’t overthrown until 1895, when Eloy Alfaro led an anti-clerical coup. Alfaro secularized Ecuador, guaranteed freedom of speech, built schools and hospitals, and completed the Trans-Andean Railroad connecting the coast with the highlands. In 1911, his own party overthrew him and further liberalized the regime by opening up the economy. The Liberal Era lasted until 1925. Altogether, Alfaro initiated four coups — two succeeded, and one finally killed him — that made him the idol of Rafael Correa, Ecuador’s present, left-wing, president.

One right-wing caudillo, the Dominican Republic’s Rafael Trujillo (1930–61), was prematurely Green, restricting deforestation and establishing national parks and conservation areas in response to the ravages in next-door Haiti. His successor (after a five-year, chaotic interregnum that included a civil war and US Marines) was Joaquín Balaguer, an authoritarian who dominated Dominican politics until 2000 and continued Trujillo’s conservation policies.

Some caudillos combined elements from both Left and Right, coming up with ideologies that were internally inconsistent but extremely popular. Argentina’s Perón absorbed fascism, national socialism and falangism while stationed as a military observer in Italy, Germany, and Spain. Back in Argentina he allied himself with both the socialist and the syndicalist labor movements to create a power base. In 1943, as a colonel, he joined the coup against conservative president Ramon Castillo, who had been elected fraudulently.

In Paraguay, José Rodriguez de Francia closed the borders to all trade and travel; abolished all military ranks above captain, and insisted that he personallyofficiate at all weddings. He also ordered all dogs in the country to be shot.

When Perón announced his candidacy for the 1945 presidential elections as the Labor Party candidate, the centrist Allied Civic Union, the Socialist Party, the Communist Party, and the conservative National Autonomous Party all united against him — to no effect. As president, his stated goals were social justice and economic independence; in fact, he greatly expanded social programs, gave women the vote, created the largest unionized labor force in Latin America, and went on a spending spree that nearly bankrupted Argentina (it included modernizing the armed forces, paying off most of the nation’s debt, and making Christmas bonuses mandatory). Perón also nationalized the central bank, railways, shipping, universities, utilities, and the wholesale grain market. By 1951, the peso had lost 70% of its purchasing power, and inflation had reached 50%.

During the Cold War, Perón refused to pick either capitalism or communism, instituting instead his “third way," an attempt to ally Argentina with both the United States and the Soviet Union. Today, Peronism remains a vital force in Argentina, with President Cristina Fernández at its helm.

Sandino Lives!

Not that caudillismo needed any intellectual justification, but the social Darwinism that developed during the late 19th century helped to rationalize many of the abuses committed under its aegis. Then, fast on its heels and in rebuttal to it, Marxism burst on the scene, invigorating the Left by advocating the forcible redistribution of wealth. The Left-Right divide widened, and conflict sharpened.

In 1910, old and ambivalent about retiring, Porfirio Díaz decided to run once more for president of Mexico. When he realized that his opponent, Francisco Madero, was set to win, he jailed him on election day and declared himself the winner by a landslide. But Madero escaped and, from San Antonio, Texas, issued his Plan de San Luis Potosí, a pronunciamento promising land reform. It ignited the Mexican Revolution.

The Zapatista Army of National Liberation now sells t-shirts and trinkets to finance its anti-capitalist jihad.

Though not specifically Marxist, the Mexican Revolution has been interpreted as the precursor to the Russian Revolution. Its ideologies — especially “Zapatismo” — are part of the progressive, Fabian, and socialist zeitgeist of the time. In fact, however, the Mexican Revolution — a many-sided civil war that lasted ten years — was so indigenously Mexican as to elude historians’ broader interpretive models. Yet it was the first effective and long-lasting leftist Latin American movement. Its successors are Cuban communism, liberation theology, Bolivarian socialism, and many others. Out of it coalesced Mexico’s Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI), heir to a coalition of forces and ideologies that were, at last, fed up with fighting. The PRI, a member of the Socialist International, instituted de facto one-party rule, and controlled Mexico for over 70 years.

Other radical leftist revolutionary movements followed — some sooner, some later, not all successful — operating either by force or through the ballot. The earliest (1927) was that of the Sandinistas in Nicaragua. Augusto César Sandino identified closely with the Mexican Revolution. Although he was not a Marxist, his movement adopted that ideology after his death. Five years later, in next-door El Salvador, the Farabundo Martí National Liberation Front (Martí was a Communist Party member and former Sandinista) rose in revolt. Guatemala followed in 1944 with the Jacobo Arbenz coup, then Cuba in 1952 with Castro’s insurrection.

With Castro’s accession to power in 1959, the outbreak of Marxist revolts in Latin America intensified. During the 1960s the Tupamaros rose in Uruguay. In Peru, various groups, including the Shining Path, revolted. The FARC, ELN, and M-19 followed in Colombia. In 1967, Fidel’s own Che Guevara met his death while trying to organize a premature revolution in Bolivia. Then, in 1970, Chileans voted in — by only 36%, a plurality in a three-way race — the first elected Marxist regime in the Americas.

Venezuela was next. Hugo Chávez launched his first, unsuccessful coup in 1992. After a stint in jail he was pardoned, ran for president in 1998, and won.

In Bolivia, Evo Morales, a former trade union leader, and his Movement Toward Socialism won the 2005 elections with a majority.

Latin American Marxism, unlike the European sort, has little to do with the industrial revolution or conditions of the working class. Not only is it currently more tolerant of religious belief; it is more relaxed about ideology and — again, currently — lacks gulags and killing fields. It is more about land distribution and “Social Justice” — a term whose words, innocuous and benign in themselves, don bandoliers and carbines and become fighting words when capitalized.

Social Justice is the concept of creating a society based on the principles of equality, human rights, and a “living wage” through progressive taxation, income and property redistribution, and force; and of manufacturing equality of outcome even in cases where incidental inequalities appear in a procedurally just system.

The term and modern concept of "social justice" were created by a Jesuit in 1840 and further elaborated by moral theologians. In 1971 Peruvian priest Gustavo Gutiérrez justified the use of force in achieving Social Justice when he made it a cornerstone of his liberation theology. As a strictly secular concept, Social Justice was adopted and promulgated by philosopher John Rawls.

The Other Path

Mario Vargas Llosa is a Peruvian writer and 2010 Nobel laureate — pointedly awarded the prize for his literary oeuvre, as opposed to his political writings, but this from a committee that awarded Barack Obama a Peace Prize for nothing more than political penumbras and emanations. Vargas Llosa started as a man of the Left. His hegira from admirer of Fidel Castro to radical neoliberal candidate for president of Peru in 1990 is a metaphor for Latin America’s own swing of the pendulum today.

In 1971 he condemned the Castro regime. Five years later, he punched García Márquez (patriarch of Marxist apologists) in the eye. Their rupture has never been fully healed (or explained), but it is attributed by some to diverging political differences. In 1989, when Peruvian economist Hernando de Soto published his libertarian classic, The Other Path (an ironic allusion to the Shining Path guerrilla movement), Vargas Llosa wrote its stirring introduction. He and de Soto advocated individual private property rights as a solution to property claims by the Latin American poor and Indians. Both the fuzzy squatters’ rights of the urban poor and the traditional subsistence-area claims of indigenous communities were being — literally — bulldozed by corrupt or insensitive governments; the two authors believed that the individual occupiers of the land should own it as their private property. This proposed solution did not sit well with the Social Justice crowd. To them, communal rights trumped individual rights.

But it struck a chord with the poor and dispossessed. So Vargas Llosa declared for the presidency in 1990 on a radical libertarian reform platform (the Liberty Movement). In Peru, the Shining Path guerrillas were terrorizing the country and the economy was a disaster, having been run into the ground by left-wing populist Alan García, who was now running for reelection. In the outside world, Soviet communism and its outliers were disintegrating, both institutionally and ideologically. Between García and Vargas Llosa in the three-way race stood Alberto Fujimori, the center-right candidate. Vargas Llosa took the first round with 34%, nearly the same majority that had put Allende into office in next-door Chile. But he lost the runoff, handing Peru over to the authoritarianism (as well as the reforms) of the Fujimori regime.

Latin American politics culminated in the era of the caudillo: a populist military strongman, usually eccentric, sentimental, long-ruling, and (roughly speaking) right-wing.

Without skipping a beat and less than a month later, Vargas Llosa attended a conference in Mexico City entitled "The 20th Century: The Experience of Freedom." This conference focused on the collapse of communist rule in central and eastern Europe. It was broadcast on Mexican television and reached most of Latin America. There Vargas Llosa condemned the Mexican system of power, the 61-year rule of the Institutional Revolutionary Party, and coined “the phrase that circled the globe”: "Mexico is the perfect dictatorship.” “The perfect dictatorship,” he said, “is not communism, not the USSR, not Fidel Castro; the perfect dictatorship is Mexico. Because it is a camouflaged dictatorship."

But the “perfect dictatorship” was already loosening its grip. Recent PRI presidents had been well-degreed in economics and public administration, as opposed to politics and law. They had already moved Mexico rightward, to the center-left, by privatizing some industries and liberalizing the economy — especially by joining NAFTA. By the 1994 election, the PRI had opened up the electoral system to outside challengers: the center-right National Action Party (PAN) and the strong-left Party of the Democratic Republic (PRD). In the 2000 elections the PRI ceded power to the PAN’s Vicente Fox, though not entirely.

The popular but hapless Fox ended Mexico’s last Marxist uprising, Subcomandante Marcos’ Zapatista Army of National Liberation (they now sell t-shirts and trinkets to finance their anti-capitalist jihad). But he was unable to further the rest of his reform agenda through the PRI-controlled legislature. So Mexico reelected the PAN in 2006. Today, in a move emblematic of Latin America’s change to European-style, alternating center-left/center-right administrations, the PAN and the PRD are exploring avenues of cooperation to pass legislation through the PRI-controlled Congress.

But Vargas Llosa wasn’t through yet. During one of Hugo Chávez’s marathon television tirades in 2009, he challenged Vargas Llosa to a debate on how best to promote Social Justice. When Vargas Llosa accepted, Chavez — in his most humiliating public move to date — declined.

Ho-hum

Peru’s increasingly discredited Fujimori resigned because of corruption, a questionable third presidential term, and the exercise of disproportionate force, once too often. He was followed by Alejandro Toledo, an economist so centrist and dull that he bored his people into not reelecting him. By the 2006 elections, Peru’s centrist politics were entrenched in the most ironic of ways. Alan García, the disastrous, populist left-wing ex-president, ran on a center-right, neoliberal platform — and won. And against all odds, he kept his word. In 2009 Peruvian economic growth was the third highest in the world, after China and India. In 2010 it remained in double figures. The 2011 elections won’t include García, as he can’t succeed himself. They are expected to be contested by the technocratic Toledo and the center-right Keiko Fujimori, Alberto’s daughter and leader of the Fujimorista Party.

It’s much the same — with few exceptions — in the rest of Latin America. Brazil’s widly popular, fiscally prudent, and social justice-sensitive center-left Lula da Silva administration was reelected, this time led by Dilma Rouseff, Brazil’s first female president. She has promised more of the same. In next-door Paraguay, the exceptionally long-ruling (61 years) Colorado Party ceded power in 2008 to the country’s second-ever left-wing president, Fernando Lugo, an ex-bishop and proponent of liberation theology. But Lugo has moved to the center, distancing himself from Chávez and tempering his social and fiscal promises by seeking broad consensus. GDP growth in 2010 was 8.6%.

In 2009 Uruguay elected as president José Mujica, a former Tupamaro guerrilla. But Mujica, described by some as an “anti-politician,” has moved radically to the ceemnter. The tie-eschewing, VW Beetle-driving president has promised to cut Uruguay’s bloated public administration dramatically. He identifies with Brazil’s Lula and Chile’s Bachelet rather than Bolivia’s Morales or Venezuela’s Chávez. After 6% growth in 2010, Uruguay is expected to level at 4.4% in 2011.

With the unexpected death of her husband and her disastrous left-wing populist policies (inflation is close to 30%), Argentina’s Fernández is not expected to win reelection in 2011. Reading the writing on the wall, she (unlike Chávez) is tiptoeing toward the center.

In Colombia, the feared authoritarian tendencies of Alvaro Uribe turned out to be wildly exaggerated; and his successor, Juan Manuel Santos, has moved even closer to the center. The two — Santos was Minister of Defense under Uribe — brought the FARC insurgency to its knees, reducing the guerrillas to little more than extortionists and drug dealers. With Colombia’s new-found safety, high growth, and low inflation, its tourist industry is booming.

El Salvador, long the archetype of extreme polarization between the now-peaceful FMLN Marxist revolutionaries and the ex-paramilitary rightwing Arenas coalition, elected Mauricio Funes in 2009. Funes, the FMLN’s surprise candidate, ran on a centrist platform and has stuck to it — throwing the Arenas coalition into disarray. He enjoys a 79% approval rating, which makes him Latin America’s most popular leader. Neighboring Honduras, after deposing a power-grabbing Chávez clone in 2009, elected the center-right Pepe Lobo, who promised reconciliation and stability. Even Guatemala shows signs of progress. The 2007 elections inducted Álvaro Colom, the first center-left president in 53 years.

Latin American Marxism, unlike the European sort, has little to do with the industrial revolution or conditions of the working class.

Costa Rica, long Latin America’s exemplar of democracy and moderation, is becoming ever more so. The 2009 elections turned Laura Chinchilla into Costa Rica’s first female president (one even more stunningly beautiful than Argentina’s Fernández). In spite of being socially conservative, she continues Óscar Arias’ vaguely center-left policies. With the traditional center-right and center-left parties always closely vying for power, the libertarian Partido Movimiento Libertario (PML), which retains a 20% popular vote base (and 10% of the legislature), has emerged as the policy power broker in the Congress.

Latin American politics’ move to the center is even mirrored in its ancillaries. The Cuban American National Foundation, largest of the Cuban diaspora’s political representatives, abjured the use of force after the death of its founder, Mas Canosa, and advocates a more open US policy toward Cuba.

Not all is good news. Though Cuba is showing microscopic hints of change (as reported in Liberty’s December issue), Chávez’ power play in Venezuela after his electoral defeat is yet to play out, and Bolivia’s Evo Morales holds steady after a barely avoided civil war, Nicaragua’s anti-capitalist tyrant Daniel Ortega is bound and determined to hold onto power come what may. But their days, too, are numbered.




Share This


The Capital Gang

 | 

For me “I’m a libertarian and I support the Washington Redskins” is right up there with “I’m from the government and I am here to help.” It makes my shoulders twitch and I feel creepy-crawlies run up and down my spine.

It all started in the run-up to Superbowl XVIII played at Tampa Stadium on January 22, 1984. The highly backed patrician ruling-class Redskins faced the underdog blue-collar working-class Raiders. Their respective QBs had some history as they had competed together for the highly prestigious Heisman Trophy back in 1970. Redskin QB (then with Notre Dame) Joe Theismann changed the way he pronounced his name from Thees-man to Thighs-man to make it rhyme with the name of the vaunted trophy in order to garner more votes. When Raider QB (then at Stanford) Jim Plunkett convincingly blew away Joe and also famous father Archie Manning (2,229 to 1,410 to 849), the Thighs-man camp infamously said that Jim had only won it because both his parents were blind. Please. What a classless act.

Happily the Raiders smashed the Redskins, leading 21–3 after just one quarter and scoring on special teams, defense, and offense. The final score was 38–9, and the record books had to be rewritten. Poetic justice?

One additional happy result of that total whipping was that the distinguished MVP scholar Charles Murray renamed his book of the mid-’80s, the book that shot him to stardom. As he recounts on pages xiii and xiv of the tenth anniversary edition, the working title had been F****** Over The Poor — The Missionary Position. Then it became Sliding Backward, but while he was watching the sad sack ‘Skins go nowhere late that Sunday, the title Losing Ground was born. Some TV commentator probably said something such as “the ‘Skins lose yet more ground to the Raiders,” and a light went on in Murray’s head.

There is only one good reason for the continued existence of the Landover Looters, and it is simply this: every single time they lose, absenteeism within the federal government soars the following Monday.

Eighteen months later I moved from California to northern Virginia and wall to wall, front to back, ceiling to floor ‘Skins fandom. There was no soccer (DC United) and no baseball (Nationals) and the basketball (Bullets) and ice hockey (Capitals) barely registered on the local sports radar screen. All that these rent-seeking, tax-guzzling federal employees and their hangers on cared about was the Redskins. Forget the country. They were totally nuts, completely besotted. There was a 30-year wait for season tickets and probably still is. People had to die before you could advance up the list. And it was all so PC that when the gun death-rate in DC hit record levels the Bullets had to be renamed and chose to be the Wizards.

In defense of all the other pro sport teams named Washington or DC, at least they all play there. The so-called Washington Redskins play in Landover MD and train in Ashburn VA. One wonders how many of the players and staff live in DC and how many in the suburbs or even further out.

I am curious as to why all five major sports leagues have to have a DC area franchise. Surely this cannot be connected to the special status that sports leagues enjoy under federal regulations.

There are large echoes here of the equally despised British soccer team Manchester United (fondly known in Manchester itself as “the scum”) which regularly sits atop the English Premier League. It plays in a city called Stretford, and its players live in the next door, very tony county of Cheshire rather than more downmarket Lancashire.

Hence the joke, How many soccer clubs are there in Manchester? Two: Manchester City and Manchester City Reserves. And hence the sign at the Manchester city line when Carlos Tevez signed to leave United for City: Welcome to Manchester.

The name refers to a criminal act of destruction of private property, deception, and sleight of hand; commemorating an attempt to point the finger of a crime falsely at a minority.

Common sense surely dictates that just as Manchester United should be renamed Stretford United so the Washington Redskins should become the Landover Redskins or perhaps the Landover Looters, to reflect the dominant local industry. It is simply dishonest to trade the way they do. They are living a lie.

But why is the team called the Redskins in the first place? What has the swamp of Washington got to do with Native Americans other than as a source of subsidy and special treatment? The answer is that the franchise started in Boston, Mass., as in the place where white patriots dressed up as Native Americans and chucked all that tea overboard. So the name refers to a criminal act of destruction of private property, deception, and sleight of hand; the name commemorates an attempt to point the finger of a crime falsely at a minority, an attempt to unleash the might of the British Army on peaceful natives. It really is disgraceful.

Speaking of minorities, these ‘Skins so beloved by Federal bureaucrats were the very last team in the NFL to integrate, and they did so with great reluctance and in a pretty surly, bad tempered way. The suspicion is that they did so only because the Department of the Interior owned their then stadium (typical) and the Kennedy administration was not impressed at seeing a non-integrated team in the nation’s capital — not really Camelot!

There are sports bars in the DC region with affiliations other than the ‘Skins, but they are nearly as rare as hens’ teeth. I used to frequent a Steelers bar with my friend Father Jack out toward Dulles on fall Sunday afternoons, until the BATF hit it. “Hands on the table — don’t reach for anything, not even your cutlery — don’t make our day.” I am sure the BATF agents were all ‘Skins fans.

The result is a cloying, all pervading, overarching pro-Redskins atmosphere that is not healthy. I recall taking elder son Miles to pre-K one Monday morning in say 1986; he was proudly wearing his brand new Dallas Cowboys shirt, a gift from Uncle Leonard. A female teacher stopped us in the corridor:

Teacher, somewhat condescendingly and pointing at said shirt: “Mr. Blundell, don’t you know this is Redskins country?”

Blundell in his best posh British accent: “Oh I am terribly sorry. I thought the Cowboys were America’s Team!”

If this were a comic strip, the next panel would show a woman with a screwed up face looking at the heavens, elbows stuck firmly into her ribs and clenched fists raised by her jaw, with a thought bubble reading “Argh! *&#%@?+^#*&.”

So as the population of the Swamp changes every election cycle, waves of well-meaning (I am being charitable) men and women, true sports fans who support good honest teams that play in privately owned stadiums, sweep in and are corrupted into supporting the Redskins. You can’t chat at the water cooler or over coffee or at lunch unless you are in the Skindom. It is so sad, but then Washington believes in monopolies such as currency issuance, taxation, and regulation.

When good internationally proven liberty-minded folk such as me confront these so-called libertarian Redskins we receive really mealy-mouthed responses, typical of which is “Oh, when I think of Washington I think of the person not the place!” Right! These people are confused and confusing, embarrassed and embarrassing, and not to be trusted until they go through therapy.

There is only one good reason for the continued existence of the Landover Looters, and it is simply this: every single time they lose, which is well over 50% recently, absenteeism within the Federal government soars the following Monday. This can only be a good thing.

But there is a solution for the Landover Looters problem. The team should move to Syracuse in upstate New York and become the Syracuse “Washington’s Redskins” with the nickname of the “Waistcoats.” Let me explain. George Washington signed a treaty with the Oneida Nation in that area to fight the Brits. So to the extent that Washington Redskins exist free of deceit, capture, and vainglory they are in the Syracuse-Finger Lakes region.

Why Waistcoats? Because Washington wore them and it’s probably a better nickname than “the big girls’ blouses,” which is what I call “libertarians” who support the Landover Looters.




Share This
Syndicate content

© Copyright 2013 Liberty Foundation. All rights reserved.



Opinions expressed in Liberty are those of the authors and not necessarily those of the Liberty Foundation.

All letters to the editor are assumed to be for publication unless otherwise indicated.