The Political and the Psychologically Damaged

 

The Political: The Psychologically Damaged Healing the Psychologically Damaged

Peter Schultz

 

                  The following passages are from a book entitled Deadly Paradigms, by D. Michael Shafer: In 1961, JFK initiated a “new Program of Action” in Vietnam, labeled the “Presidential Program for Vietnam.” That is, South Vietnam. It called for “initiating on an accelerated basis … actions of a political, military, economic, psychological and covert character, designed to create … a viable and increasingly democratic society and to keep Vietnam free.” [p. 249]

 

                  This is truly mind-boggling stuff, that goes well beyond naivete and turns into narcissism, that is, into a psychological disorder. Only a narcissist would think it possible to remake a society employing such programs and doing so “on an accelerated basis.” In other words, the psychologically disordered were to be managing, reforming, even healing the psychologically disordered.

 

                  But think about it: Isn’t this characteristic of the political generally? The psychologically sick undertake to manage, reform, render healthy the psychologically sick. Isn’t that, for example, the point of the book, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest? A “big nurse” and others, who are psychologically damaged themselves, are to undertake the project of healing the psychologically sick. The psychologically damaged like JFK, LBJ, Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan, Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, Donald Trump will manage and heal the psychologically damaged people who elected them. It seems like sheer madness to me. 

Deadly Paradigms

 

 

 

Deadly Paradigms

Peter Schultz

From Deadly Paradigms: “President Kennedy made counterinsurgency a priority….As General Lemnitzer…put it…Kennedy wanted ‘ nothing less that a dynamic national strategy - an action program designed to defeat the Communists without recourse to…nuclear war; one designed to defeat subversion where it had already erupted, and…to prevent it taking initial root…a strategy of both therapy and prophylaxis.’” 

The comical, mythical elements herein: “dynamic national strategy,” (oh how wonderful to be dynamic nationally!), an action program (because action is always preferable to inaction, be proactive always!), “defeat” “Communists,” (who are identifiable easily and are always defeatable), no nuclear war (of course no nukes!), defeat “subversion” (however defined and of course never justified), after it appeared or before it appeared, being both therapeutic and prophylaxis (hence, counterinsurgency as condom foreign policy!). 

General Lemnitzer asserted this with a straight face, believing it to be possible, and no one laughed! Oh, the madness! If Pascal’s take on Aristotle and Plato was correct - that they saw the political as a madhouse - then those guys got it right. And still very few laugh. The essence of the political: making madness socially acceptable! Ala’ WW I, Dresden, Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Pearl Harbor, Vietnam, GWOT, war on drugs, etc. 
 

The Virtue of Simplicity

 

The Virtue of Simplicity

Peter Schultz

 

                  Adam Hochschild has written an excellent book, King Leopold’s Ghost, which has one flaw. He wants to blame what happened in the Congo under King Leopold of Belgium on a particular kind of politics. At one point, he says “The Congo offers a striking example of the politics of forgetting. Leopold … went to extraordinary lengths to try to erase potentially incriminating evidence for the historical record.” [p. 294] At another point, he wrote that “One reason I wrote this book was to show how profoundly European colonialism has shaped the world we live in.” [318]

 

                  Hochschild is aware he is simplifying history: “it is wrong to blame the problems of today’s Africa entirely on colonialism.” [318] Other phenomena have been important, for example, the status of women, “the deep-seated cultural tolerance and even hero-worship of strongmen like Mobutu,” as well as “the long history of indigenous slavery [that’s] still deeply and disastrously woven into the African social fabric.” [318]

 

                  But while Hochschild criticizes simplicity, it may be that more simplicity, not less, would be illuminating. It is not particular kinds of politics, either a politics of forgetting or the politics of colonialism, that are to blame. Rather, it is politics simply. Focusing on particular kinds of politics as root causes of inhuman consequences in Africa obscures or “disappears” the political itself as the root cause. And just as it is incorrect to think that any particular kind of politics has caused Africa’s problems, so too it is incorrect to think that there is a particular kind of politics that can solve those problems. The political is inseparable from imperialism, slavery, and war, which is reflected by the facts that “The rebel militias, the Congo’s African neighbors, and many of their corporate allies have little interest in ending the country’s Balkanization.” [317] Nor should we be surprised insofar as “For western Europe to move from the Holy Roman Empire … to its current patchwork of nations took centuries of bloodshed, including the Thirty Years War, whose anarchic multisidedness and array of plundering outsiders remind one of the Congo today.” [318] Centuries of bloodshed which, of course, continue today and not only in the Congo or in Africa but that occur among the “current patchwork of nations” world-wide.

 

                  That we readily speak of “political problems” does not mean that we should assume there are “political solutions” for those problems, any more than because we speak of “moral problems” we should assume there are “moral solutions.” Centuries of bloodshed should alert us to the naivete of such thinking.

The Road to War: Honor

 

The Road to War: Honor

Peter Schultz

 

                  The road to war, politically speaking, is paved with good, i.e., honorable intentions. Hence, making war is so much more popular than making peace or avoiding war. It is the nature of the political.

 

                  In his book, What’s the Matter with Kansas, Thomas Frank offered an assessment of conservative voters in Kansas that led to the conclusion that those voters had voted against their own self-interests. Hence, they had voted irrationally, implying that they and the conservative movement were beyond rational appeals and hopelessly askew politically.

 

                  But that these voters were not voting irrationally is evident when it is recognized that, politically speaking, “means” often become or are “ends.” Those voters perceived themselves as voting honorably, as voting for “the honorable” as opposed to and even at the expense of their self-interests. So, they had demonstrated their virtue(s), their patriotism, their good citizenship in that they preferred the common good to their self-interests. As such, voting is not simply a means to advance one’s self-interest; it is an end in itself, a demonstration of one’s virtue(s), political and otherwise.

 

                  This is a reminder that honor is a commodity that easily trumps self-interest politically. Self-interest may dictate abandoning losing causes, like wars, but honor does not. In fact, honor dictates persisting even in losing causes, including wars, because such persistence demonstrates one’s virtue(s). Appeasement based on calculation can always be made to seem dishonorable. Which is why making war is so much more popular than making peace via appeasement.

 

                  When trying to get the United States out of Vietnam, JFK used statistics, duplicitously as it turned out, to persuade people that it was in the interests of the United States to get out or stay out of Vietnam militarily. Apparently, JFK knew that his statistics gave an inaccurate picture of the military and political situations in Vietnam. And as it turned out to be the case, Kennedy’s prospects of keeping the US out of Vietnam dimmed considerably.

 

                  Additionally, though, in arguing as he did in favor of what he said was statistically validated “progress,” JFK had, implicitly, embraced the war’s legitimacy, that it was an honorable war. If opposing communism was honorable, as almost all Americans thought then, the war was honorable. So even if it were not going well and even if South Vietnam itself was not essential to the national security of the United States, the war itself, as opposed to its possible outcomes, was honorable. To oppose the war would be to act dishonorably. And were a president to act so dishonorably, unconscionable consequences might be forthcoming.

Thought Experiment: Killing JFK

 

Thought Experiment: Killing JFK

Peter Schultz

 

                  Why was it necessary to assassinate JFK? That is, “necessary” for national security reasons?

 

JFK was committed to abandoning South Vietnam, which would have compromised US national security – not because the existence of South Vietnam itself fortified US national security. But because US war-making fortified US national security and did so even though South Vietnam would not survive. This is what Nixon understood and why he felt justified in extending the war for the duration of his first term, to achieve “peace with honor.” Continuing the war was crucial to US national security because it was what US “honor” required. To cut and run would have been “dishonorable,” thereby compromising US national security.

 

                  “US national security” was/is a euphemism for “US honor.” It was honorable to continue the war, no matter how badly it was going and dishonorable not to do so. Doing the honorable thing, even though futilely destructive, was politically requisite. Honor is a political virtue even when it leads destruction and death in what seem to be futile causes.  And dishonor is a political vice even when it leads to peace because it is “appeasement.” In politics, means are just as important ends. This is one reason why politics is so violent and deadly.

 

                  Making war always appears honorable, while appeasement always appears dishonorable. And presidents are constitutionally inclined toward acting honorably because the office itself privileges the honorable just as much as monarchies privilege honor. Because JFK was prepared to act dishonorably, he was compromising the presidency itself. Such a compromise would undermine US national security, which depends upon, as everyone knows, there being strong presidents, i.e., powerfully acting presidents. The honorable act powerfully, not timidly. They do not appease; they make war. Insofar as JFK was unwilling to do that, he was compromising US national security. Hence, his removal was necessary.

A Few Reflections on Aristotle and the Political

 

A Few Reflections on Aristotle and the Political

Peter Schultz

 

                  Some views on Aristotle: “Moreover, he thought that such knowledge [of human actions] is the necessary prerequisite for politics because politics has as its end the making of virtuous citizens.”

 

                  “For Aristotle, the science of politics was the architectonic science, the master science, because its end, the good for man, is employed in directing political affairs and is ultimately directed at the education of citizens…. Nevertheless, it is not sufficient merely to live. Man must live well, that is, live as a human moral agent. As the science of human action, political science enables man to fulfill this aspiration.”

 

                  So: Humans aspire to live well; that is, to live as “human moral agents.” To fulfill this aspiration, humans turn to political science, to politics because “politics has as its end the making of virtuous citizens.”

 

                  And, of course, this assumes that “virtuous citizens” are “human moral agents.” But Aristotle explicitly denies this identification when he asserts that a good person is virtually always distinguishable from a good citizen or that it is almost never the case that a good citizen is also a good person. Being either a good person or a good citizen seems to be a choice humans have to make. Does political science as the architectonic science, the master science illuminate that choice? Or does political science so understood obscure the necessity of making that choice? It could be that understanding politics as architectonic, as commanding is in fact not illuminating, but blinding. And it is a blindness that often leads to fanaticism, the fanaticism of living well as “human moral agents.” Extremism in the defense of virtue is no vice.

 

                  So: What was Aristotle doing? Could it be that he was – as he did with regard to slavery or to the origin of the polis – laying out the conventional wisdom, the citizen’s or the political wisdom in order to expose its flaws? As some have argued, Aristotle does adopt the conventional or citizen’s view of politics, but he does so to expose it, and not to endorse, embrace, or affirm it.

Nate Turner and the Political

 

Nate Turner and the Political

Peter Schultz

 

                  The following is from Mark Ames’ book, Going Postal: Rage, Murder, and Rebellion.

 

                  “The fact that Nate Turner [was] … delusional does not disqualify the inherent political nature of his rebellion.” [p. 57]

 

                  Exactly. Turner, , although being delusional, was being political, just like those who were hunting Turner. Those who “go postal,” like those who cause them to go postal, are similarly political and delusional. As Ames points out, those “going postal” are acting politically, i.e., delusionally, just as are those they are acting against, who are also acting politically.

 

                  Turner, e.g., went postal, thereby acting politically, which is to say delusionally, just like the “white vigilante group [that] terrorized the region’s blacks, killing hundreds….” [57] As Ames emphasized, the white vigilante group “foreshadowed the rise of the KKK … years later.” This illuminates the character of the political, of being political, of affirming the political. Being political seems indistinguishable from being delusional. And isn’t it pretty obvious that delusions are what excite or incite humans to be political, e.g., waging war and killing one’s enemies?

 

                  So: the political are the delusional. Or: the political is delusional. So, it is not simply that delusional humans corrupt the political, although of course that can happen. It is that the political and the delusional are inseparable, that we political animals are, by virtue of being political, delusional.

The Narcissism of the Political

 

The Narcissism of the Political

Peter Schultz

 

                  “Vanity and the desire to dominate other(s) are passions that arise…in society,” according to Montesquieu, ala’ Thomas Pangle.

 

                  Which means that vanity and dominance are the political passions par excellence and are made socially acceptable via politics. That is, it is via the political that humans motivated by vanity and a desire to dominate others can have their narcissism made acceptable and even honored. Those who are characterized by vanity and dominance lust for fame, which is a kind of immortality. Hence, as Lincoln pointed out in his “Perpetuation of Our Political Institutions” lyceum address, for the most ambitious politicians, it is immaterial whether they enslave freemen or free slaves. Their acts disguise and socially legitimize the passions that underlie them, vanity and the desire for dominance. Such narcissism lies at the root of the political, in its meanness and in its greatness.

 

                  To say that the best regime is the least pathological regime is to say there is no political solution to human problems. There are no simply good options and there is nothing that can be done about that. The fate of the nuclear strategists reveals this truth. The “MAD-ness” of the nuclear age clarifies all ages. Human problems cannot be solved politically, militarily, or morally. Hence, it helps tremendously to have a sense of humor, as that allows you to see the human drama for the comedy it is. Ironically, the most serious matters are best treated humorously or light heartedly. Hence, the value of seeing the irony of Plato’s Republic, of Aristotle’s Politics, and of Machiavelli’s The Prince and his Discourses, as well as his Mandragola. It will lighten your load.

The Fate of Nuclear Strategists: MAD-ness

 

The Fate of Nuclear Strategists: MAD-ness

Peter Schultz

 

                  “The nuclear strategists had come to impose order – but in the end, chaos still prevailed.” [The Wizards of Armageddon, 391]

 

                  Reformulation: The politicians had come to impose order – but in the end, chaos still prevailed. Or even more so: The politicians, through politics, fed the chaos, facilitated it. So, politics is merely disguised chaos or is chaos disguised. Politics as Pascal’s “madhouse.”

 

                  The fate of the nuclear strategists, viz., who created “a living dreamworld” wherein their strategies “became a catechism, [whose] first principles [were] carved into the mystical stone of dogma,” is simply the fate of all affirmations of the political.

Creating Beauty or Making War: The Wizards of Armageddon

 

Creating Beauty or Making War: The Wizards of Armageddon

Peter Schultz

 

                  Thoughts spurred by the book, The Wizards of Armageddon, by Fred Kaplan.

 

                  “…there was no conceivable circumstance under which using nuclear weapons would create an advantage [for the US]….Brodie’s fundamental conclusion [stood]: that there could be no winners….And so the analysts had to keep going back to the problem over and over again, even if the problem could never be solved….[And] nobody wanted to be the man in … a ghastly conflict … say to the President of the United States: ‘I’m sorry, sir, but there are no good options…, and there is nothing you can do about it.’” [p.371] (And Sheriff Bell appears.)

 

                  Oh, those vicious circles with no way out politically or militarily. The only way out is philosophically: reconceiving the human story as being about the contemplation and creation of the beautiful. The Wizards of Armageddon, while theorizing about and making war, merely succeeded in futilely spinning their wheels. There is no way to fight a nuclear war rationally. Wars are always obscene – and there is nothing to be done about that.

Political Realism: The Glorification of War

 

Political Realism: The Glorification of War

Peter Schultz

 

                  Political realism facilitates, embraces, and affirms war(s), including nuclear war(s). As one realist argued, “If we back down [from war] and let the challenge go unheeded, we will suffer losses of prestige, we will decrease our capacity for … deterrence… and we will encourage [further aggressions].” Moreover, “If … deterrence for some reason fails, then the only way to avoid perilous humiliation is to … drop atom bombs….” [The Wizards of Armageddon, p. 190]

 

                  To understand this affirmation of war, it is necessary to understand that central to political realism is what may be called “the threat.” In the 1950s, 1960s, and thereafter, the threat was Marxist communism, but the threat could and does take other forms as well, e.g., Islamic fundamentalism. The threat is as central to political realism as is the concept of original sin for Christianity.

 

                  If sin is original, that is, if humans are conceived in sin, then humans must not only be prepared to battle sin, to make war against sin, but those battles, those wars may be seen as divinely sanctioned. And this is how John Foster Dulles, et. al., understood the Cold War. “Dulles viewed … superpower competition as a titanic struggle between freedom and slavery, shining beacon and the web of darkness, God and the Devil.” [181] Thus, the Cold War and even nuclear war was divinely sanctioned. Nations and peoples prove their virtue, their piety by being willing and able to engage in apocalyptic battles, to “stand at Armageddon and battle for the Lord.” In other words, there must be battles, there must be wars because they are signs of our virtue(s), signs that nations and peoples are principled. It isn’t too much to say that nations and peoples should be looking to wage war(s), perhaps even going out of their way to make war in order to prove they are godly. Appeasement proves that nations and peoples are not virtuous; making war, even nuclear war, proves that nations and peoples are principled. Making war in order to avoid humiliation, to avoid the loss of prestige is what good and decent folks do, even if that includes dropping some atom bombs.

 

                  Of course, in a nuclear age “victory in the traditional sense cannot be a proper goal” because “nobody desires self-annihilation.” [198] Wars in a nuclear age should be “limited,” which means that the “proper aim on the battlefield is sustained stalemate.” [198-99] So, “playing for a stalemate … would … seem to be desirable.” In other words, wars should be endless; at least that’s what rationality recommends. “We are asked to make sacrifices and then cheer lustily for a tie in a game that we did not even ask to play.” [199] The iron cage of rationality is, in fact, characterized by, permeated by endless war(s). Rationally considered, the political is defined by endless war(s). Or as Clausewitz put it: War is what politics becomes. In a nuclear age, limited or endless war(s) is as good as it gets. Ironically, endless battles, endless war are the best possible outcomes. The best regime is permeated by war. So it goes.

 

The Wizards of Armageddon

 

The Wizards of Armageddon

Peter Schultz

 

                  From the book The Wizards of Armageddon by Fred Kaplan, being an account of the alleged wisemen and women who “for thirty years [were] a small group inside the U.S. strategic community [who] devised the plans and shaped the policies on how to use the bomb.” The book bills itself as “their untold story.”

 

                  Kaplan’s summation of the work of the likes of Albert Wohlstetter, et. al.: “These sorts of studies were scientific, so it was thought; there were numbers, calculations, rigorously checked, sometimes figured on a computer. Maybe the numbers were questionable, but they were tangible, unlike the theorizing, the Kremlinology, the academic historical research and interpretation produced by social science. Wohlstetter snootily denigrated all such works as being in ‘the essay tradition.’” [p. 121]

 

                  And so, allegedly, Wohlstetter et. al. did science; they were scientific realists and were, in their own minds, superior to those who worked in the essay tradition, political theorists, Kremlinologists, historians, and social scientists. And yet the “strategic community … formed at RAND … had reached … a … consensus … which was the not unlikely prospect of a Soviet surprise attack against the increasingly vulnerable Strategic Air Command. To many, it appeared that the Russians might indeed attack sometime in the near future.” [pp. 123-24]

 

                  Note well: These allegedly hard-headed scientists viewed the political at the time as a morality tale, with “good guys” and “bad guys” engaged apocalyptic battles. And, of course, the RANDites like Albert Wohlstetter would be the heroes of this morality tale, and so, unsurprisingly, Wohlstetter was described by one colleague as if he sounded like “he was reciting the Sermon on the Mount.” [123] Wohlstetter, et. al., saw themselves as standing at Armageddon and battling for the Lord, armed with their science and their rationality. Nuclear weapons were, apparently, divinely sanctioned. Indeed, so too was nuclear war.  

 

                  And so, these scientists, these alleged realists, affirmed the political, while being blind to their affirmation, its consequences, and its controversies. Apocalyptic battles are especially appealing to the self-righteous, but they are universally destructive especially in a nuclear age. It is questionable whether they should be embraced as divinely or scientifically sanctioned.

 

                  So, while science “added … legitimacy to the general feeling among many in government that the arms race must be continued and accelerated at all costs,” [131] the realists’ affirmation of the political as a morality tale fed their aggressiveness vis-à-vis the Soviet Union. It was their politics, not their science, that explained their understanding of and opposition to the Soviet Union. So, while “Wohlstetter snootily denigrated” social science and social scientists, his own politics were easily denigrated as blind to the “real Soviet Union.” Had he not viewed politics as a morality tale, Wohlstetter might have been able to achieve a more nuanced view of the Soviet Union than as an “evil empire” ready to strike the U.S. at its earliest opportunity in order to achieve its ultimate goal of world domination. Such a view would have helped moderate the arms race that these scientists thought must be continued and accelerated at all costs, including of course the embrace of thermonuclear weapons capable of destroying the world and humanity. These scientists had become capable of, as Robert Oppenheimer knew, destroying worlds.  

 

 

The Logic of Realism: With Sides

 

The Logic of Realism: With Sides

Peter Schultz

 

                  The logic of realism, from Newman’s book, JFK and Vietnam: “At the time the picture of the war MACV presented to McNamara was one of gradual success but one in which more aircraft, equipment, and men were always needed to get the job done. The success story both forestalled the notion that the situation was desperate enough to warrant a Laotian-type political solution and justified the further expansion an intensification of the ‘winning’ US effort.” [p. 320 emphasis original]

 

                  It is important to recognize that as a realist McNamara was already convinced by such logic, and the intelligence General Harkins offered merely validated his doctrinaire realism. Hence, he didn’t question Harkins’ intelligence. To see the need to question Harkins, McNamara would have to have seen the need to questioned realism, his and others. Had he been willing to do that, he wouldn’t have been among “the best and the brightest.” Rather, he would have resembled Kurt Vonnegut or Cormac McCarthy. To be a “player” requires buying into the prevailing ideology, into realism, into the single vision. And such a purchase, rendered the best and the brightest, unbeknownst to themselves, blind.

 

                  An aside: Trump’s blindness. Trump may be able to dismantle the Department of Education, but this will be useless unless he subverts the realism, the single vision ideology that underlies our educational institutions. Our problem isn’t bureaucratic. It is philosophic. Unless that is understood, playing around with bureaucracies will prove futile. Bureaucracies do not create evils; rather, the evils are created by the philosophy of realism, of the single vision. “If the rule you followed brought you to this point, then what good was your rule? “(Anton Chigurh, No Country of Old Men)

 

                  Another aside: JFK’s blindness. Because he was a realist, JFK was forced to act deceptively regarding Vietnam. His realism required that he claim to be leaving Vietnam without losing the war. Realists cannot abide by defeats because defeats call into question their beliefs. Failures are unacceptable for realists by undercutting their convictions.

 

                  But deception is problematic insofar as JFK’s deceptions could be – and eventually were – subverted by events in Vietnam. As the war worsened, the logic of realism required renewed and intensified efforts to succeed, to avoid defeat. So as the war worsened, the commitment to an intensified war effort grew. Only insofar as defeat could be legitimated, made acceptable, justified, could the logic of realism and an ever-greater war effort be subverted. What was needed was a mindset that rejected the idea that defeat in Vietnam would be “losing Vietnam.” A mindset was needed that did not see Vietnam as a nation to be “won.” A mindset was needed that did not see nations as merely entries in either “the win column” or “the loss column” of international politics. A mindset was needed that sees nations as entitled to self-determination, i.e., as entitled to choose their politics, their destinies, despite how those choices impacted U.S. national security. A mindset was needed by which U.S. national security did not trump the right of a people to self-determination, ala’ the Declaration of Independence.

 

                  The logic of realism is all about winning and losing, about winners and losers. Were JFK to “lose” Vietnam, he would have been condemned as a “loser” and presidents cannot legitimately be losers. They have to be winners or, at the very least, look like winners. Hence, deception or duplicity is legitimate, even when it means putting US soldiers’ lives at risk in order to win an election - which is what JFK was doing in 1963. It is also what LBJ did prior to and after the presidential election of 1964, as well as what Nixon did in his first term. The politics of realism involves, repeatedly, deception or duplicity because failure is inevitable in politics. Ironically though, our realists cannot accept this reality. So it goes.

 

 

Realism and the Political: Reflections on Vietnam

 

Realism and the Political: Reflections on Vietnam

Peter Schultz

 

                  Here is an interesting passage from John M. Newman’s book, JFK and Vietnam: “McNamara did not question [General] Harkins’ view that the war was being won….Harkins’ claim seems so incredibly naïve that one may ask: how could the American commander [and the Secretary of Defense McNamara] be so out of touch with reality? … We do not know what motivated Harkins, but whatever it was it surely defies a sound military explanation.” [pp. 287 and 288]

 

                  Newman fails to see that McNamara and Harkins, et. al., were realists. They embraced realism as a doctrine or dogma and so long as they did, success was taken for granted, at least once the realistic way forward was discovered and applied. That’s the essence of doctrinaire realism, viz., that being realistic guarantees success. Doctrinaire realists have no reason to doubt their eventual success because that’s the promise of being a realist, being successful. One becomes a realist in order to be successful. So, it is only by questioning and abandoning realism as doctrine that failure becomes visible, becomes a real possibility. So long as elites embrace realism as a doctrine, just so long will they be unable to see failure as a real possibility. Realists always presume when facing what looks like failure something like the following: “We just haven’t found the realistic way forward and if we keep looking and trying, we will find that way. Guaranteed!”

 

                  So, McNamara and Harkins, et. al., not only had “a wholly unrealistic view of the war,” they also embraced a doctrinaire view of the world that blinded them to “real reality,” which includes of course the possibility of failure. Being realists was, unbeknownst to McNamara and Harkins, their real problem. Their problem was a philosophical problem, not a military or a political problem. Their philosophy of realism blinded them to the possibility of failure, which was obvious to many U.S. and Vietnamese soldiers and even to many Vietnamese peasants and many American dissenters. “The best and the brightest” were neither.

 

 

Imperialism and the Political: Kenya

 

Imperialism and the Political: Kenya

Peter Schultz

 

                  Here’s an interesting passage from the book, The Rule of Empires, by Timothy H. Parsons, regarding British imperialism in Kenya.

 

                  “The Kenyan imperial state was one of the most oppressive manifestations of the new imperialism. It grafted its deceitful legitimizing ideologies onto a highly exploitive model of the kind of old-style settler colonialism that destroyed the Amerindian and Aboriginal civilizations of North America and Australia. Dressing the East Africa Protectorate’s pacification campaigns in the garb of liberal humanitarianism was bad enough, but the settlers’ argument that they were civilizing the people of the highlands by exploiting their labor was simply disgusting. As one dubious official in the Colonial Office acidly noted: ‘Does anyone really believe in the educative value of labour on a European farm?’ The reality of the settlers’ self-avowed goal of making Kenya into a ‘white man’s’ country turned Africans into a permanent underclass.” [p. 348]

 

                  This suggests that the ideology of liberal humanitarianism was merely a “garb,” used “deceitfully” to hide what was really going on. The implication is that had the ideology of liberal humanitarianism been taken seriously, then the Kenyan imperial state would not have been oppressive.

 

                  But this assumes that the ideology of liberal humanitarianism is not pathological, that it constitutes a kind of politics that is not only best but is actually “ideal.” In fact, as the dubious official in the Colonial Office observed, such an assumption is unwarranted insofar as it requires believing that labor intrinsically has “an educative value,” and that those who labor will not therefore be relegated to a permanent underclass that necessarily detracts from the laborers’ human worth by having them engage in dehumanizing work.  

 

More generally, by this assessment, the oppressive character of the Kenyan imperial state was the result of deceit. But if all political orders, all regimes are pathological, intrinsically so, then even if the Kenyan imperial state had been genuinely based on liberal humanitarianism, it would still be oppressive. Insofar as all regimes are pathological, defective, unjust, and oppressive, then all forms of imperialism, including that form that may be labeled “liberal humanitarian imperialism,” will be defective, unjust, and oppressive.

 

Machiavelli observed in The Prince that while most everyone admired Hannibal’s greatness, they failed to see that his greatness was due to his “inhuman cruelty.” The same might be said of mankind’s greatest empires, that while they might appear to be most admirable, they were only made possible and maintained by inhuman cruelty. The inhuman cruelty that the British engaged in Kenya to try to maintain Kenya’s imperial state was no accident. And once that inhuman cruelty was no longer acceptable to the British, the Kenya imperial state failed. So it goes.

Robert Strange McNamara: Dominatrix

 

Robert Strange McNamara: Dominatrix

Peter Schultz

 

                  The following is from JFK and Vietnam by John M. Newman, and it describes a Joint Chiefs of Staff memo sent to President Kennedy on January 13, 1962 arguing that it was essential for the United States to commit combat forces to Vietnam.

 

                  “In it the Chiefs described the stakes in Vietnam as incredibly high, and said they had done all they could under the restraints of the President’s program….Their solution, of course, was to send U.S. combat troops to Vietnam….Since the prevention of communist domination in South Vietnam was an ‘inalterable objective’ of the United States…,the military objective ‘must be to take expeditiously all actions necessary to defeat communist aggression there.’ The Chiefs stated categorically that ‘the fall of South Vietnam to communist control would mean the eventual communist domination of all of the Southeast Asian mainland.’ U.S. allies and neutral India would be ‘outflanked,’ and the last significant British military strength in Asia would be ‘eliminated’ with the loss of Singapore and Malaya. Then all of the Indonesian archipelago would come under Soviet ‘domination.’” [p. 163]

 

                  This is an excellent example of what might called “the domination myth.” According to this mindset, domination is not only possible, but it even seems to be the all-too-common result of political activity. So, unless the U.S. committed itself, in the strongest way possible militarily, against communist forces in Southeast Asia, then willy nilly Southeast Asia would fall under the domination of the communists and the Soviet Union. Moreover, this myth is evident not only in the analysis of the communist threat but is also evident in the Chiefs’ recommendations for military action via combat troops. That is, if the U.S. opposes the communists, then the U.S. can and will dominate Southeast Asia. Failure to dominate, either by the communists or by the U.S., isn’t entertained as a possibility.

 

                  So, even more so than what was called “the domino theory,” whereby the nations of Southeast Asia would “fall over” like a row of dominoes one after the other once South Vietnam “fell” to the communists, the domination myth lay at the bottom of the thinking that led the U.S. into a war in Southeast Asia, a war that it eventually lost. It is this myth that helps explain why failure and its consequences were never analyzed by U.S. policy makers, and especially not by Robert McNamara, JFK’s Secretary of Defense. Convinced that if the U.S. committed itself to war in Southeast Asia it could not lose, McNamara, despite a lot of evidence that should have told him the U.S. was losing that war, pushed on and on and on. The domination myth made McNamara act like a dominatrix, as it were, thinking and acting as if he could control, i.e., dominate the North Vietnamese, the Soviets, the Chinese, and eventually all of Southeast Asia. Domination is the key to success, in politics and other activities, so it is best to have a “dominatrix” in control. And it was McNamara who was thought to possess the expertise required as he allegedly demonstrated during WW II and in his career at Ford Motor Company.

 

                  The implications of the domination myth are widespread. Consider, for example, the phenomenon labeled “transgenderism.” It seems indisputable that what we call “gender” is, well, “slippery” or often ambiguous, with more than a few humans feeling that the gender they were assigned at birth isn’t their actual gender and so, sometimes, these humans seek to “transition” to their actual gender. But this assumes that the gender we are born with, however ambiguous or arbitrary, can be changed. That is, it is assumed that we humans can and should dominate our gender issues, just as we can and should dominate our political issues. The U.S. failure in Vietnam – and elsewhere – might indicate that domination isn’t always possible and certainly isn’t always desirable.  

Going Postal

 

Going Postal

Peter Schultz

 

                  The following is from the book, Going Postal, from its chapter entitled “The Banality of Slavery.” The book ‘s author is Mark Ames, and the book is well worth a read.

 

                  “…why is it that in the roughly twenty years of Soviet gulags we know of only one serious uprising … in spite of the millions who perished? Why did so many Russians ‘willingly’ go the camps and ‘let themselves’ be brutalized without a fight? Varlan Shalamov’s Kolyma Tales is perhaps the greatest, most wrenching account of how men adapt to the most degrading conditions. It describes how they adjust to the new ‘normal’ life as brutalized slaves, how the word ‘normal’ has no fixed meaning, and how every one of us is hard wired to be a slave, given the right conditions. It is not something we want to think about too much, which is why Solzhenitsyn’s version of the gulags, with its focus on evil Communist oppressors and the few heroes who resisted, is infinitely more popular in America than Shalamov’s version, which avoids facile divisions between good guys and bad guys, heroes and oppressors, and digs into our inner slave.

 

                  “We don’t hear much about this inner slave … though it is far more common, and manifests itself far more regularly, than the allegedly dangerous ‘heart of darkness’ of which are warned. The slave psychology is too familiar. It appears in the most banal settings: in the workplace, in relationships, at home or at school. Alternatively, the primitive aspect is fantastic, alien, and exciting. While Joseph Conrad is to be applauded … his Heart of Darkness pitch, compared to Shalamov, is an exotic getaway vacation designed to make the reader feel a more profound sense of self. No one wants to travel up the other African river, the one that reveals man’s heart of submissiveness.” [p. 34]

 

                  It strikes me that Ames’s argument might help illuminate Aristotle’s concept of “regime,” whereby he argued that all political orders, democratic, polity, oligarchic, aristocratic, monarchic, and tyrannic, are regimes or “ways of life.” That is, that political life is composed of regimes as ways of life points to man’s “inner slave” or his submissiveness. In other words, the regime indicates that when Aristotle argued that humans are political animals, he meant that humanity’s default setting, so to speak, is submissiveness. And it also illuminates why Aristotle argued the slavery is a permanent feature of political life and why it is almost never true that the good citizen is also a good person.  At the very least, this is something worth thinking about.

Beware the Best and the Brightest

 

Beware the Best and the Brightest

Peter Schultz

 

                  “Affirming the political” is the way of making one’s narcissism socially acceptable or legitimate. Affirming the political cloaks narcissism, the conviction of superiority, as a political choice, as the best political choice. Hence, to acknowledge that your politics, your political choices aren’t choice worthy or are failures means acknowledging your “superiority” is unreal, means acknowledging your inferiority, as it were. As a result, those convinced of their superiority, those convinced that they are elite refuse to acknowledge that their political choices are failures and refuse to abandon them.

 

                  They are in fact trapped, as if in a vicious circle with no way out. To preserve their “credibility,” their legitimacy, their power and positions, they must “go forward,” e.g., by doubling down on their chosen but failing policies. If bombing isn’t working, then increase its level. If violence isn’t working, then increase the violence. For only in that way can elites maintain their power and positions, their “superiority.” Hence, failure must be denied and disguised, covered up. Failure may even be unthinkable; it is definitely unacceptable.

Understanding America's Politics of Failure

 

Understanding America’s Politics of Failure

Peter Schultz

 

                  The following is from David Halberstam’s book, The Best and the Brightest, his account of America’s failure in Vietnam.

 

                  “[McGeorge Bundy] was a man with a great instinct for power, and he loved it, he responded to where power was moving, trying at the same time to get people to do intelligent, restrained things in an intelligent, restrained manner.

 

                  “Besides, the idea and the meaning of failure to him and many of the men around him was an almost alien thing. He was so confident in himself, in his tradition and what he represented, that he had no concept about what failure might really mean, the full extent of it. It never entered the calculations. He and others had, in fact, achieved success; they had won awards, climbed in business and academe, each position had brought them higher. They had of course paid the price along the way. Fragmentation had again and again confronted morality, and morality had from time to time been sliced, but it had always been for the greater good of the career. It was the American way, ever upward; success justified the price, longer and longer hours invested, the long day became a badge of honor, and the long day brought the greater title. Success was worth it, and after all, success in the American way was to do well. But the price was ultimately quite terrible. Washington was a company town in the company country where success mattered, and in the end they could not give up those positions and those titles, not for anything. These were the only things they had left that set them apart; they had no other values, no other identity than their success and their titles. The new American modern man was no longer a whole man; it was John McNaughton able to argue against his interior beliefs on Vietnam in order to hold power, McNamara able to escalate in Vietnam knowing that he was holding the JCS back on nuclear weapons, men able to excise Vietnam from their moral framework. So they could not resign; no one decision, not even a war, could make them give up their positions.” [526]

 

                  Or as I will put it: Their positions and titles offered them social approval for their narcissism and so, of course, they could not, they would not give them up even in the face of abysmal failures. Without their positions and their titles, their lives would be meaningless. And, so, they, the best and the brightest, were trapped in their failures.

 

More From the Living and the Dead

More From The Living and the Dead

Peter Schultz

 

 

Last page of “The Living and the Dead”: “In the midst of such emotion for a war that never went away were those of another point of view….What I think Anne Morrison Welsh [widow of Norman Morrison] was telling me is that vengeance should be left to the vengeful….that suffering and redemption…are not incompatible ideas….On the contrary, each can give the other meaning, even comfort. Otherwise we’re all locked in the triggering and embittering past.” (p. 380) Or trapped in the triggering and embittering political. 

My take: Suffering is best borne silently, contemplatively, poetically, or prayerfully. If treated politically, it turns into vengeance and we remain trapped, with no way out and more violence on the way. McNamara sought redemption and treated his suffering politically and, sure enough, more violence was on the way. As one reader of Time magazine put it: “He should have been man enough to carry his guilt in silence.” Or as might be said: would that he had been wise enough to suffer silently. 

A poem by Auden: 
“About suffering they were never wrong,
The Old Masters: how well they understood
It’s human position: how it takes place 
While someone else is eating or opening a window or 
          just walking dully along.”
(p. 380) 

 

[Citations from The Living and the Dead, by Paul Hendrickson]

McNamara and Morrison: Lives of a Lost War

 

McNamara and Morrison: Lives of a Lost War

Peter Schultz

 

                  Robert Strange McNamara and Norman Morrison shared a common fate because both affirmed the political as it appeared in the war in Vietnam. McNamara, of course, was the Secretary of Defense in the Kennedy and the Johnson administrations. He had concluded, toward the end of 1965 but certainly by 1966 that the war could not be won militarily. Nonetheless, for the next two years he pursued the war: “He would grow more darkly pessimistic, and he would stay. He would serve up the hard truth on the inside, sometimes, and he would nonetheless go on, agreeing to and designing further escalations, sending more platoons of the low-echelon into the high elephant grass.” [The Living and the Dead, p. 231] “’McNamara was still providing the president with an enormous amount of detailed, optimistic information … that the thing was working.’” [ibid] As George Ball put it: “He couldn’t face the implications of his own logic.” [ibid] That is, he was committed to affirming the political and his affirmations led him into a futile savagery.

 

                  Norman Morrison, on November 2, 1965, set himself on fire at the Pentagon, close to McNamara’s office, where he was, for a while, holding his baby daughter, Emily. Emily survived while Norman did not, dying amid kerosene induced flames as his way of protesting the war in Vietnam. Morrison was a Quaker and a pacifist, and left behind a wife, another daughter and a son. It is thought he brought his daughter with him to let Americans see what it looked like when children are incinerated, as was happening in Vietnam. He, too, was affirming the political, thinking that his actions would bring an end to Vietnam war.

 

                  Both men couldn’t let go of the Vietnam war and, I believe, they couldn’t because they both were affirming the political, seeking to win or end the war politically. Even though he knew the war couldn’t be won militarily, McNamara persisted in waging it. McNamara could not just walk away from the war. He was compelled to wage it and that compulsion was a reflection of his affirmation of the political. And Morrison, who knew the war was obscene, inhuman, and futile could not let it go. He too could not walk away from it and, in fact, he was prepared to sacrifice his baby daughter on the altar of that war. Like McNamara, he could not walk away from it, thereby affirming it.

 

                  If this is what comes from affirming the political, then it is fair to say that affirming the political leads to a willingness to incinerate children, as illustrated by the policies of McNamara and the actions of Norman Morrison. And the Pentagon, the five-sided monstrosity called the Department of Defense, visibly represents our affirmation of the political as do the actions that are authorized in it and actions like Morrison’s outside it. The Pentagon is modernity’s disguise for savagery.

 

[The citations are from The Living and the Dead: Robert McNamara and Five Lives of a Lost War, by Paul Hendrickson, 1996]

The Ethical Problem

 

The Ethical Problem

Peter Schultz

 

The argument is conventionally made that the problem is “the inadequacy of our American system of ethics….” So, conventionally understood, the problem is ethical, viz., this particular ethical system or that particular ethical system, capitalism or communism. However, while this is close to correct, the problem isn’t this or that ethical system. Rather, it is, fundamentally, the ethical itself. 

 

As has been noticed, “the modern high-power dealer of woe … wears immaculate linen, carries a silk hat…,” has a “gentlemanly presence.” “The chiefest sinners are now enrolled men who are pure and kindhearted, loving [of] their families, faithful…, and generous.” In other words, the chiefest sinners are ethical, that is, pure, kindhearted, loving, faithful, and generous. The problematic phenomenon is the ethical itself. 

 

Contemplating the consequences of the ethical, of virtuous political orders, is deeply disturbing. Allen Dulles, et. al., never contemplated the consequences of the ethical, the political. Dulles. et. al., were not contemplative beings; they were active beings, beings who took for granted that great and decisive actions were the key to ameliorating or redeeming the human condition. They saw themselves as creators, not as caretakers. In that sense, they were and are ethical beings, beings who seize hold of the ethical, as they understand it, for the sake of dominance, victory, and glory. For them, the love of fame lies at the heart of the noblest minds. 

 

So, their problem isn’t being unethical; they are emphatically ethical beings, killing and dying for what’s right, even willingly embracing inhuman cruelty for the sake of what’s noble. Their problem, and ours, is that they aren’t contemplative. “The chiefest sinners” aren't unethical; rather, they aren’t contemplative. Were they to be contemplative, they would see the ironic character of the ethical, of the political. They would see the irony in the fact that “war is the health of the state.” They would see the irony in the fact that slavery is an indispensable feature of even healthy political orders. They would see the irony in the fact that the best political leaders are little more than stentorian baboons who are indispensable to national security, but for little else. 

 

What is the alternative to the ethical? How about the erotic? Victor Frankenstein craved the fame and greatness of being the creator of life scientifically. He lusted after such god-like fame. And yet he had the power to create life, as do most human beings, naturally or erotically. Of course, such a creation would not, could not have satisfied his craving for the kind of god-like immortality he sought. Ironically, he could not love or care for his creation, despite its promise. Just like the irony of nuclear power. 

 

Those who embrace the ethical, the political do so at the expense, the loss of the erotic. And that loss “desouls” humans. It is through eros that our souls are revealed and redeemed, that we “make our souls the best possible.”