Cold War II

Memorial Day is coming up, and it isn’t a particularly funny holiday. It might be a good time, though, to poke fun at the War on Terror, which isn’t really a war at all, and isn't really on terror . . it's on violent religious fundamentalism - terrorism is its byproduct. With the creation of the Homeland Security Department, complete with its color-coded warning system (which is funny) and the friendly TSA employees (who are bordering on useless), it seemed at first that the war would follow in the steps of rhetorical, domestic “wars,” which were essentially just policy efforts with snappy titles. Who can forget Johnson’s War on Poverty, Reagan’s War on Drugs, and Clinton’s controversial War on Wilford Brimley? But unlike these domestic efforts, so frequently named for their purpose, the War On Terror takes place much more on foreign soil, “on the offense” as President Bush likes to say, via diplomatic efforts, funding friendly governments, and the occasional actual war.

So why are we naming this foreign policy “war” for its purpose? We’ve never done that before. A more appropriate name might be something like Cold War II. Why? Well, first of all, wars just seem to come in twos, like the World Wars, the conflicts against Iraq, and who can forget the famous “French and Indian War II” [insert really offensive joke here]? Second, and more seriously, the efforts of the US today mirror, almost exactly, our efforts against the USSR and communism in the Cold War (not the War on Communism). The conflict includes a clash of more or less mutually exclusive ideologies, for one. In addition, each side has limited the scope of actual combat, to Afghanistan today (and arguably Iraq now, but let’s ignore that conflation for a while), and to Korea, Indochina/Vietnam, and Afghanistan during the Cold War. Man, it sucks to be Afghanistan. Third, in both situations, the conflict is primarily waged through bit players, small countries that, for a host of reasons, choose a side. That’s an important point to keep in mind – we avoided, almost at all costs, any direct actions against the USSR.

To that end, there are quite a few lessons learned already that America could apply. One important point is that containment, as opposed to aggression, can be effective. Sure, there isn’t one huge political superpower that we’re fighting against, but it’s a very organized political movement, with strongholds and direct and indirect political influence. Starting by slowing the spread of fundamentalism should be step one. The US met with considerable success in the Cold War by, for the most part, drawing defensible boundaries, and attempting not to let communism spread further. The two borders that were the least defensible, the 38th parallel in Korea and the porous borders of Vietnam, led to serious problems. Overall, the containment and power threat policy worked fairly well, and certainly saved American lives because it was mostly realistic and defensible; it essentially conceded Eastern Europe and Asia, and ground away at the fringes. Restrictive systems where citizens’ choices are suppressed may function for a while, but on a large scale, they tend to blow up pretty violently in the end. I think that America could get a lot more mileage by working hard to halt the spread of fundamentalism in places like Indonesia, North Africa, and Egypt – the border areas. Yet these are exactly the kind of cultures, which, right now, are becoming less and less receptive to American intervention and support because of our aggressive actions directly against fundamentalist nations. It seems pretty clear these days that almost every nation’s opinion of America’s credibility has dropped precipitously. Perhaps it's time to build up NATO once more.

Who knows, maybe a more gradual approach to confronting fundamentalism may be a better strategy in the long term. At any rate, it can't hurt to rethink our strategies, and we definitely need to work on a name change. What sounds cooler to you: the War on Terror, or Cold War II? This is just something to think about think about this long weekend, as you enjoy an extra day away from work in the good ‘ol USA . . .

My Own Filibuster

In response to Myllyrd's question, I have to say that it's amazing that the public was so engaged and apparently passionate about the filibuster debate at all. That's not to say that it's not an important topic (it is), but it's awfully arcane and technical by the standards of most political debates. And yet there were direct advertisements on TV, on the radio, and arguments every night on political talk shows about the possibility of filibusters for judicial appointments.

I'm not sure, though, that the Republicans picked the best strategy, which was to dumb the issue down to a single sound byte, repeated over and over, that every judicial nominee "deserves an up or down vote." I can only assume that this particular detail was to distinguish the proposal from other types of votes, such as the "right or left" vote, or maybe the "boxers or briefs" vote. The simplicity strategy, which worked so well for Bush against Gore and Kerry, who by comparison kept getting detailed and nuanced, which made them look weak and (ahem) flip-floppy, didn't really fly here.

While the simple logic probably resonated with a certain base, one generally receptive to GOP positions, it totally ignores the whole logic of an actual filibuster (not to mention Categorically Imperative's astute points). And it turns out that you really don't need to know squat about parliamentary procedure to follow this arguement. First, filibusters are, by their very nature, probably unpopular. A filibuster only occurs when an elected minority is voicing strong opposition. The Senate is expressly designed to thwart popular will (and this is not to admit that nominees like Priscilla Owen do reflect the popular will, or should). This is why every state has two Senators, regardless of size, and this is why there are so many huge government subsidies that flow every year into the sparsely populated and supposedly conservative Midwest. So it's not as though a majority vote in the Senate is in any way a vote that reflects popular American sentiment. In fact, until the 17th amendment, Senators weren't even elected, but were appointed. So it seems remarkably unclear as to why Republicans were so frustrated that the purported popular will of the people (Preisdent Bush's mandate) was not being carried out in Senate confirmation hearings. If this were the case, why wouldn't the nation's founders simply have dictated direct elections for lifetime positions for federal judges? Or, why didn't they appoint the more straightforward House of Representatives to play the advise and consent role?

The clear answer is that there was never any intent for executive nominations to be rubber stamped, or approved by the people at large. The entire function of the judicial branch is to be as insulated a possible from the whims of current political sentiment, which is why appointments are for a lifetime, and nominations are subject to a very peculiar process. Every nominee clearly does not deserve a floor vote, which is only the last stage of this approval process, but try fitting this argument into an indignant, eight-second sound clip.

But getting back to Myllyrd's question, I say that it's a defeat for the Republicans, but not really a win for the Democrats. The Republicans were not able to achieve their stated goals of votes for all nominees. The Democrats, meanwhile, were able to stave off a major change in the political confirmation process, but didn't prove their own argument, which was basically that they have every right to block nominations of which they don't approve. This means that the Republicans can drag out the same sense of outrage if an extreme Supreme Court nominee is brought forth and the Democrats try a similar tactic again. Also, I would guess that this is strike number two in the Republican hubris department (Terry Schaivo was the first). One more of these unpopular congressional spats, and a lot of incumbents might be on their way out - like maybe 7% instead of the usual 2%.

Long live the Republic? Or just the Republicans?

So I'm still wrestling with the Senate deal on filibusters of judicial nominees. Three of them are likely to slip through, two of them are dead, and two of them are up in the air. The filibuster lives on for judicial nomination battles in "extraordinary circumstances," but the 7 moderate Republicans can still go nuclear if the Democrats use the filibuster in "ordinary" circumstances. So all we've really done is punt the issue for another time -- likely when there's a Supreme Court battle.

Was this a victory for the Dems? Or a capitulation? Or neither? Who wins and loses here?

Bundles of Thought

Timothy Noah conducted an unscientific poll of Slate readers to see exactly what it was about the NYT columnists that readers found valuable. In other words, if anyone thought it was worth the annual fee of $50, which columnist opinions, exactly, would be worth the expense?

Recall, then that the NYT is bundling goods together and charging a flat fee. The fee includes access to some article archives, as well as all opinion columnists (Noah allocated $25 of the fee for columnists). But why bundle the columnists at all, especially if, for example, a certain blog named after a certain fat, not-living-anymore president (and his associates) reveals that one may be a hack? Why not just pay for one or two columnists? Economically, it's not a bad move for the NYT. This is much the same reason that your cable provider insists upon bundling ESPN with ABC Family - you're charged a little extra for the package because you can't buy just the channels that you actually want to watch. So who's going to bring in the subscribers, and who couldn't hack it a la carte? I don't want to steal all of Noah's thunder (it was a great, if unscientific idea), but let's just say that Brooks doesn't fare well. Crap, I can't take it - he's second to last, and is assessed at $1.39 annually. It seems clear, though, that Noah could use a lesson in statistics. Let's assume for now that uses a simple mean of his observations.

It's worth noting the caveat that consumer demand isn't always an indication of quality. Well-written, articulate positions aren't always popular, but it doesn't make them wrong. But Brook's apparent lack of popularity (and, possibly, originality) should be enough for the NYT to question whether he's a good worthy of keeping and worthy of demanding a fee. Keep in mind, too, that Brook's column is surely a barrier to entry for other potential regular columnists who may be able to draw in subscribers (good for the NYT) and add original thought to the national discussion (good for citizens).

Why Blog?

Weblogs (OK, OK, blogs) are usually uninformed, close-minded, snarky, and kind of dumb. So what’s up with Grover Cleveland and Friends? Good question.

First of all, Grover’s been awfully bored since losing the Democratic nomination to William Jennings Brian in 1896 (it's a little known historical fact that Cleveland actually first lost the vote to this otherwise forgettable politician, who himself was defeated by William Jennings Bryan, after it was discovered that he had previously been convicted in the Commonwealth of Virginia of male fraud - yes, male fraud). Other than dying a few years later, things have been pretty dull for the Grovester. Rumor has is that he was into doing the Charleston for a while, but I’m pretty sure that it was just a phase. Second, he has a lot of friends. I don’t like to bring up old clichés or anything, but we all know that Grover + Friends = blog (except after vowels and coffee breaks). Enough said.

No wait, there appears to be another paragraph here. Yup, there definitely is. It’s fun to have a personal printing press. It’s now, apparently, virtually free to the average citizen (and, in Grover’s case, the very, very fat and slightly dead citizen). This is a chance to participate in civic discussion. This blog may have started too late to make fun of the fact that Tom Brokaw is a blowhard, or that Monica Lewinsky is not slim, or that “Cool Runnings” was, in retrospect, not a compelling premise for a movie. But it is definitely not too late to participate in lots of ongoing discussion. For example, there’s the burning issue in public discourse over who will win American Idol, and the ever-present controversy of why people are really dumb (I’m working on theory that these two issues are actually very related).

Participation in civic life, I’ve realized, is more than reading and watching. It’s not that those activities aren’t important. They are, in fact, vital. But every real discussion should include both listening and talking. Everyone has an opinion, and some of these opinions aren’t stupid. Watching C-SPAN and reading the newspaper are important, but don’t let that fool you into thinking that your participation in public discourse is fulfilled. Say something. It will be stupid at first (like this blog), and maybe always (like . . . me), but it’s actually pretty important.

So make your own arguments. You have access to virtually all of the same information – newspapers, transcripts, reruns of “Family Guy,” etc. You’ll find that you have to think a lot harder, and that’s not necessarily bad thing. I know that’s how Grover feels and, say it with me now, “Where there’s Grover, there’s friends.”

Hello World

This is the new "Grover Cleveland and Friends" weblog. I'm sure that Grover and all of his close associates are excited about this new address. Let's hope that this works.