Rudy Giuliani’s dangerous game: Jeb Bush, patriotic lies, and the truth about American exceptionalism
Our politicians are selling us fictions dressed up as patriotism. We need a new approach — and not another Bush
“I do not believe that the president loves America. He doesn’t love you. And he doesn’t love me. He wasn’t brought up the way you were brought up and I was brought up through love of this country…. With all our flaws, we’re the most exceptional country in the world.”
That is Rudy Giuliani, New York’s former mayor, speaking at a Republican dinner in Manhattan earlier this month. Many readers will recognize these now-infamous remarks.
Here is Jeb Bush, the all-but-certain Republican candidate in 2016, speaking to the Chicago Council on Global Affairs a few hours earlier:
“America does not have the luxury of withdrawing from the world. Our security, our prosperity and our values demand that we remain engaged and involved in often distant places. We have no reason to apologize for our leadership and our interest in serving the cause of global security, global peace and human freedom.”
And here is President Obama, introducing his administration’s 2015 National Security Strategy , an annual announcement as to how America’s defense and foreign policy cliques intend to get us through the year:
“Any successful strategy to ensure the safety of the American people and advance our national security interests must begin with an undeniable truth—America must lead. Strong and sustained American leadership is essential to a rules-based international order that promotes global security and prosperity as well as the dignity and human rights of all peoples. The question is never whether America should lead, but how we lead.”
There it is, readers. You have your lumpen rightists, who have acquired more power than seemed possible a few years ago but still face the knotty problem of stupidity. You have your mainstream rightists, polished and clever, intent on staying the expansionist course and persuading us it is best for all. On the foreign policy side, these people remain the right’s true center of gravity.
And you have your neoliberals, ever dressing up the rightists’ agenda as the progressive thing to pursue. This, the Williams-Sonoma crowd, is possessed of an egregious righteousness. They are the heirs of the Cold War liberals, those gutless many who assumed whatever shape necessary to avoid confronting American paranoia, reaction and aggression, usually out of sheer self-interest.
These are the alternatives before us as we look to a presidential campaign and a new administration. It is an interesting choice. We can have exceptionalism, exceptionalism or exceptionalism. One cannot wait to vote.
One cannot wait for the media to wring fantastic distinctions out of the field of candidates for the 2016 presidency. How awful it must have been for those condemned to life in one-party states until freed through our leaders’ commitment to spreading liberty and “human freedom” everywhere.
We live through a significant passage in American history. This bears only brief explanation.
Chosen-people consciousness arose in England prior to the 17th century crossings. It was a belief, never a thought. There are those who still profess to believe, but the belief long ago passed into the sphere of mythologies. There exceptionalism remained, I would say until September 11, 2001.
The airborne attacks in New York and Washington revealed the myth as myth. The astonishingly abrupt revelation that Americans are exceptions to nothing was the primary reason that day so shocked most of us.
Since then the wheel turns again: The myth is now two things. It has hardened into an ideology, and it is something closer to a psychological disorder, whereby the leadership—which has most to lose from the collapse of the exceptionalist version of history, not you and I—incessantly insists on the efficacy of the idea in the face of all evidence.
This is how I read our moment. An exhausted mythology is finally overwhelmed by new realities as the entire world beyond American shores presents them, with exceptions such as Britain, Australia and Israel.
The American leadership faced a choice in 2001: It could re-imagine the nation’s place in the global community or eschew all imagination in favor of holding to the past. The choice was on the table briefly but proved too stark. The job of thinking lost to the job of believing. Rudy Giuliani, Jeb Bush and President Obama merely articulate the standing preference among the powerful.
Each of these three have something to tell us. Let’s consider these lessons one at a time.
*
Giuliani was named “America’s mayor” after the 2001 attacks in his city, but the buffoon within was always destined to break the surface, as it has regularly since he stepped aside in late 2001. D.H. Lawrence had a term for this kind of pol. He called them “temporarily important people.” It is perfect for Rudy.
What is Giuliani doing talking about love in public places? This was my first question. The answer is that he does not mean love. His true accusation against Obama was that the president shows signs of ideological deviance. This is dangerous in America—for all of us. Think about it: Every conversation we have now is freighted with semiological signals as to whether or not one is a believer.
Giuliani reminds me of a couple of things. We are not a strong nation at this moment in our story. We are merely powerful—another, lesser thing altogether. The leadership is weak (as in incapable of new thinking) and frightened (as in having no idea of how to face a future that does not look much like the past).
No general in a uniform, no one in camo fatigues, no senior spook at the NSA, no hyperpatriotic politician with a flag pin on the lapel should be mistaken as strong because he or she recites the exceptionalist catechism. They seek shelter in the past because facing forward in the post-September 11 era is too fearful a prospect.
Giuliani is a blunt instrument, but do not miss this point, either: Not too many of us ask others to pass some kind of love-of-country test, but very many of us, maybe most, are more subtle exceptionalists. Cold War liberals felt called upon to prove their anti-Communist bona fides. Most of us live according to a variant of the same imperative.
*
The interesting thing about Jeb Bush’s speech in Chicago was what he felt called upon to prove. Most comment has focused on his “I am my own man” effort to distance himself from George W.’s catastrophic foreign policy decisions, notably the Iraq invasion in 2003. Fair enough, one cannot blame him for trying.
My focus landed on the theme of departure, a policy different from what Washington puts out now. His insistence on the new was partly an early rendition of campaign stumping, O.K., but Bush implicitly acknowledged the fundamental malfunction of policy, too: We need the new because what we have does not work.
It turned out, of course, that Bush meant the new in the nothing-new. “Greater global engagement,” one of his core policy principles, does not mean innovating how America addresses the world—identifying root causes of conflict, for instance. It means a stronger NATO and a strategy to defeat “Islamic terrorism” not by diplomatic or any other reasoned means but an effort “to take them out.” (I have always found the use in high places of a phrase that originated among criminals to be telling.)
“Our words and actions must match,” Bush declared. Ah, a return to the Enlightenment ideals we ignore but hollowly profess. Nothing doing. He means when we say we are going to invade or bomb somebody unless, unless, unless, we must make sure we do so.
Beware always when an American leader talks of advancing freedom and liberty abroad, and the point holds with Bush’s notion of “liberty diplomacy.” Sure enough, Bush defined this as a foreign policy that asserts uniquely American notions of individualism, liberty and other such things. “If we withdraw from the defense of liberty anywhere,” he said, “the battle eventually comes to us.”