smCOLUMN SIXTY-FOUR, OCTOBER 1, 2001
(Copyright © 2001 Al Aronowitz)
SECTION SEVEN
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sm
COLUMN
SIXTY-FOUR, OCTOBER 1, 2001
(Copyright © 2001 Al Aronowitz)
Subject:
FW: Heroes for the Times: Fire Chiefs, Not Politicians
Date: Wed, 26 Sep 2001 13:55:54 -0700
From: "VENIRE" <VENIRE@znet.com>
To: <VENIRE@znet.com>
September
25, 2001|1:49 PM
Heroes
for the Times: Fire Chiefs, Not Politicians
by
Nicholas von Hoffman
In
the early winter of 1933, Franklin Roosevelt took a fishing vacation off the
coast of Florida. After returning to Miami, he went to a park, where, seated in
the back of an open touring car, he spoke to some thousands of people, one of
whom was Anton Cermak, the Mayor of Chicago. Cermak stood close to the
President-elect and thus was in the direct line of fire when an assassin took
aim at Roosevelt. As the Mayor fell to the ground, grievously wounded, the
Secret Service shouted at the driver to get the President-elect the hell out of
there, but F.D.R. stopped them. And then Roosevelt---a man who could not walk,
let alone run, unassisted---swung open the touring-car door and, with arms made
strong from years of crutches, took hold of Cermak, pulled him into the car and
then, cradling the wounded man, ordered the driver to go to the nearest
hospital. Courage.
Or
there is the example of Abraham Lincoln, repeatedly warned not to appear in
public, who told his bodyguards that their protecting him could not be allowed
to interfere with his connection to the people who had chosen him to lead them
and the nation. Courage.
And
then, lack of courage. George W. Bush. Four days later, he arrives in New York.
Couldn't get there sooner because they were targeting Air Force One. So take
another plane. This man is so much the captive of his security janissaries they
had a by-invitation-only memorial service at the National Cathedral.
Leaders
expose themselves to dangers. Let's rename Air Force One the White Feather
Special.
This
panicky escape---from Florida to Louisiana, then a disappearance under a desk in
Nebraska---was the flight of a confused, frightened man. At the same time he
vanished, the news announcers were assuring us that the Vice President was safe
in his cave, the Speaker of the House was safe in his cave, and the members of
the cabinet were safe in their caves. For practical purposes, the federal
government, with New York and Washington under attack, had become invisible. The
highest good was saving themselves so they could live to lead us on another,
safer day. Cowardice in the face of the enemy?
For
most of Tuesday, the de facto leader of America was Rudolph Giuliani. He was the
only elected official in the United States to be seen, the only one giving
encouragement, the only one enjoining hope and the only one performing the
duties of his office in the face of immediate danger. (George Pataki also was at
his post, gaining honor by his conduct.)
So
it turns out that as George W. Bush and that shabby bunch he calls his team
played the part of the poltroon in Washington, the ordinary people of New York
were extraordinary. Our firefighters, our police officers, our men and women
from the building trades and from medicine and every occupation showed us what
heroes do. In an epoch accustomed to seeing the big shots send the little shots
to their death, the fire chief led his people to the immortality which only
great deeds and great sacrifice confer. Has there ever been a day like Tuesday,
Sept. 11, 2001, a day of such mass murder, of such grief, of such hugeness of
heart? Not in the four centuries since Europeans came to Manhattan island.
When
the danger had abated, the politicians, like slugs after a rainstorm, came out
from under to resume their accustomed places in front of the TV cameras. The
braying jackasses in Congress lined up on the steps of the Capitol to sing
"God Bless America" and then, no doubt, went back into their
respective chambers to "commend" each other for their
"leadership." Seldom have those subprime less-than-mediocrities shown
themselves in a worse light.
They
were not able, however, to underdo the President, this little man who is too
small for his suits. Him with his stumblings, his swarm of meaningless phrases,
his make no mistake about it's. Make no mistake about it, this shrimp, this sea
urchin is not up to the job. If he had any stature, he'd quit---but if he had
the stature to quit, then he'd have the stature for the job.
Think
of the Presidents of the last half-century who might have led us on this day of
criminal human sacrifice. The best would have been Dwight Eisenhower, who knew
about death and killing. His Presidency was the last during which policy in the
Middle East was argued frankly and openly, the last before dissenting opinion
became afraid to say out loud what it thinks.
We
might have had Richard Nixon. If it takes a wily one to catch a wily one, he'd
have snagged Osama bin Laden, of that you may be sure. You cannot imagine a
Lyndon Johnson getting on television after 5,000 of our people were murdered and
having nothing to say worth listening to. Bill Clinton would have been equal to
the job. When the news came in, he'd have told the girl, "Get up offa your
knees, I got work to do," and he would have done it well. For that matter,
so would Warren Harding, on most historians' lists as the worst President in the
last 100 years---but he did have a sonorous kind of vapidity which deceived his
auditors into briefly thinking they'd heard real thoughts. You don't even have
the illusion with Mr. Bush.
He
could speak of Osama bin Laden, the evil genius who has thousands of lesser
geniuses around the globe, the full match in power and brains of the United
States of America. Who is this bin Laden character who has brought off every
ambush, every bushwhacking, every bombing for years? Is he real, or is he the
Professor Moriarty of what we optimistically call the "intelligence
community"? Moriarty---bin Laden gets away every time, disappearing into
the waterfall, a
Let
us hope that Mr. Bush will someday talk about this catastrophic defeat which
occurred because the responsible people in the federal government didn't do
their jobs. The Federal Aviation Administration failed. Anybody who has taken a
plane in the United States in the last 15 years knows that the only function
being served by the security setup, other than torturing innocent passengers,
was to provide leaf-raking jobs for somnambulant and/or rude persons of
As
for the intelligence---or shall we call it the low-intelligence---community,
countless billions have bought us nothing. Whenever challenged, their stock
answer is, "You only see the times we failed; you don't see how often we've
stopped terrorists." But that ain't good enough, bub. Would we accept the
same answer from the people who run atomic-power plants? Foiling nine out of 10
plots is not a passing grade when the 10th results in the death of thousands of
people. You could talk about that, President Bush.
And
one day soon, our leading people will have to talk about the land which has
become the tomb of so many good, dear people. Some will say that the towers
should be rebuilt. I hope that there'll be others who say that they should never
have been built in the first place, for it isn't only fundamentalist assassins
who have long looked on those towers as an assertion of unseemly pride and the
shameful hauteur of those who believe money confers virtue. They were as ugly as
they were disproportionate, and in their place there should be erected something
which speaks of the better America, which is more closely connected to the woman
who stands close by in the harbor, her torch still lit in this dark space of
time.
You
may reach Nicholas von Hoffman via email at: nvonhoffman@observer.com
This
column ran on page 4 in the 9/24/2001 edition of The New York Observer.
COPYRIGHT
© 2001
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