Rats flee Bush's sinking ship



 Politics > Politics-USA > Rats flee Bush's sinking ship

LINK TO THIS PAGE  


rating :  0   |  0


  Page 1 of 1

1

 
Topic: Politics > Politics-USA
User: "PagCal"
Date: 19 Nov 2006 02:50:52 AM
Object: Rats flee Bush's sinking ship
Embittered Insiders Turn Against Bush
By Peter Baker
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, November 19, 2006; A01
The weekend after the statue of Saddam Hussein fell, Kenneth Adelman and
a couple of other promoters of the Iraq war gathered at Vice President
Cheney's residence to celebrate. The invasion had been the "cakewalk"
Adelman predicted. Cheney and his guests raised their glasses, toasting
President Bush and victory. "It was a euphoric moment," Adelman recalled.
Forty-three months later, the cakewalk looks more like a death march,
and Adelman has broken with the Bush team. He had an angry falling-out
with Defense Secretary Donald H. Rumsfeld this fall. He and Cheney are
no longer on speaking terms. And he believes that "the president is
ultimately responsible" for what Adelman now calls "the debacle that was
Iraq."
Adelman, a former Reagan administration official and onetime member of
the Iraq war brain trust, is only the latest voice from inside the Bush
circle to speak out against the president or his policies. Heading into
the final chapter of his presidency, fresh from the sting of a midterm
election defeat, Bush finds himself with fewer and fewer friends. Some
of the strongest supporters of the war have grown disenchanted, former
insiders are registering public dissent and Republicans on Capitol Hill
blame him for losing Congress.
A certain weary crankiness sets in with any administration after six
years. By this point in Bill Clinton's tenure, bitter Democrats were
competing to denounce his behavior with an intern even as they were
trying to fight off his impeachment. Ronald Reagan was deep in the
throes of the Iran-contra scandal. But Bush's strained relations with
erstwhile friends and allies take on an extra edge of bitterness amid
the dashed hopes of the Iraq venture.
"There are a lot of lives that are lost," Adelman said in an interview
last week. "A country's at stake. A region's at stake. This is a
gigantic situation. . . . This didn't have to be managed this bad. It's
just awful."
The sense of Bush abandonment accelerated during the final weeks of the
campaign with the publication of a former aide's book accusing the White
House of moral hypocrisy and with Vanity Fair quoting Adelman, Richard
N. Perle and other neoconservatives assailing White House leadership of
the war.
Since the Nov. 7 elections, Republicans have pinned their woes on the
president.
"People expect a level of performance they are not getting," former
House speaker Newt Gingrich (R-Ga.) said in a speech. Many were livid
that Bush waited until after the elections to oust Rumsfeld.
"If Rumsfeld had been out, you bet it would have made a difference,"
Sen. Arlen Specter (R-Pa.) said on television. "I'd still be chairman of
the Judiciary Committee."
And so, in what some saw as a rebuke, Senate Republicans restored Trent
Lott (Miss.) to their leadership four years after the White House helped
orchestrate his ouster, with some saying they could no longer place
their faith entirely in Bush.
Some insiders said the White House invited the backlash. "Anytime anyone
holds themselves up as holy, they're judged by a different standard,"
said David Kuo, a former deputy director of the Bush White House's
faith-based initiatives who wrote "Tempting Faith," a book that accused
the White House of pandering to Christian conservatives. "And at the end
of the day, this was a White House that held itself up as holy."
Richard N. Haass, a former top Bush State Department official and now
president of the Council on Foreign Relations, said a radically
different approach to world affairs naturally generates criticism. "The
emphasis on promotion of democracy, the emphasis on regime change, the
war of choice in Iraq -- all of these are departures from the
traditional approach," he said, "so it's not surprising to me that it
generates more reaction."
The willingness to break with Bush also underscores the fact that the
president spent little time courting many natural allies in Washington,
according to some Republicans. GOP leaders in Congress often bristled at
what they perceived to be a do-what-we-say approach by the White House.
Some of those who did have more personal relationships with Bush, Cheney
or Rumsfeld came to feel the sense of disappointment more acutely
because they believed so strongly in the goals the president laid out
for his administration.
The arc of Bush's second term has shown that the most powerful criticism
originates from the inside. The pragmatist crowd around Colin L. Powell
began speaking out nearly two years ago after he was eased out as
secretary of state. Powell lieutenants such as Haass, Richard L.
Armitage, Carl W. Ford Jr. and Lawrence B. Wilkerson took public the
policy debates they lost on the inside. Many who worked in Iraq returned
deeply upset and wrote books such as "Squandered Victory" (Larry
Diamond) and "Losing Iraq" (David L. Phillips). Military and CIA
officials unloaded after leaving government, culminating in the
"generals' revolt" last spring when retired flag officers called for
Rumsfeld's dismissal.
On the domestic side, Bush allies in Congress, interest groups and the
conservative media broke their solidarity with the White House out of
irritation over a number of issues, including federal spending, illegal
immigration, the Supreme Court nomination of Harriet Miers, the response
to Hurricane Katrina and the Dubai Ports World deal.
Most striking lately, though, has been the criticism from
neoconservatives who provided the intellectual framework for Bush's
presidency. Perle, Adelman and others advocated a robust use of U.S.
power to advance the ideals of democracy and freedom, targeting
Hussein's Iraq as a threat that could be turned into an opportunity.
In an interview last week, Perle said the administration's big mistake
was occupying the country rather than creating an interim Iraqi
government led by a coalition of exile groups to take over after Hussein
was toppled. "If I had known that the U.S. was going to essentially
establish an occupation, then I'd say, 'Let's not do it,' " and instead
find another way to target Hussein, Perle said. "It was a foolish thing
to do."
Perle, head of the Pentagon's Defense Policy Board at the time of the
2003 invasion, said he still believes the invasion was justified. But he
resents being called "the architect of the Iraq war," because "my view
was different from the administration's view from the very beginning"
about how to conduct it. "I am not critical now of anything about which
I was not critical before," he said. "I've said it more publicly."
White House officials tend to brush off each criticism by claiming it
was over-interpreted or misguided. "I just fundamentally disagree,"
Cheney said of the comments by Perle, Adelman and other neoconservatives
before the midterm elections. Others close to the White House said the
neoconservatives are dealing with their own sense of guilt over how
events have turned out and are eager to blame Bush to avoid their own
culpability.
Joshua Muravchik, a neoconservative at the American Enterprise
Institute, said he is distressed "to see neocons turning on Bush" but
said he believes they should admit mistakes and openly discuss what went
wrong. "All of us who supported the war have to share some of the blame
for that," he said. "There's a question to be sorted out: whether the
war was a sound idea but very badly executed. And if that's the case, it
appears to me the person most responsible for the bad execution was
Rumsfeld, and it means neocons should not get too angry at Bush about that."
It may also be, he said, that the mistake was the idea itself -- that
Iraq could serve as a democratic beacon for the Middle East. "That part
of our plan is down the drain," Muravchik said, "and we have to think
about what we can do about keeping alive the idea of democracy."
Few of the original promoters of the war have grown as disenchanted as
Adelman. The chief of Reagan's arms control agency, Adelman has been
close to Cheney and Rumsfeld for decades and even worked for Rumsfeld at
one point. As a member of the Defense Policy Board, he wrote in The
Washington Post before the Iraq war that it would be "a cakewalk."
But in interviews with Vanity Fair, the New Yorker and The Post, Adelman
said he became unhappy about the conduct of the war soon after his
ebullient night at Cheney's residence in 2003. The failure to find
weapons of mass destruction disturbed him. He said he was disgusted by
the failure to stop the looting that followed Hussein's fall and by
Rumsfeld's casual dismissal of it with the phrase "stuff happens." The
breaking point, he said, was Bush's decision to award Medals of Freedom
to occupation chief L. Paul Bremer, Gen. Tommy R. Franks and then-CIA
Director George J. Tenet.
"The three individuals who got the highest civilian medals the president
can give were responsible for a lot of the debacle that was Iraq,"
Adelman said. All told, he said, the Bush national security team has
proved to be "the most incompetent" of the past half-century. But, he
added, "Obviously, the president is ultimately responsible."
Adelman said he remained silent for so long out of loyalty. "I didn't
want to bad-mouth the administration," he said. In private, though, he
spoke out, resulting in a furious confrontation with Rumsfeld, who
summoned him to the Pentagon in September and demanded his resignation
from the defense board.
"It seemed like nobody was getting it," Adelman said. "It seemed like
everything was locked in. It seemed like everything was stuck." He
agrees he bears blame as well. "I think that's fair. When you advocate a
policy that turns bad, you do have some responsibility."
Most troubling, he said, are his shattered ideals: "The whole philosophy
of using American strength for good in the world, for a foreign policy
that is really value-based instead of balanced-power-based, I don't
think is disproven by Iraq. But it's certainly discredited."
.

User: "Raymond"

Title: Re: Rats flee Bush's sinking ship 19 Nov 2006 04:52:18 AM
PagCal wrote:

Embittered Insiders Turn Against Bush

By Peter Baker
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, November 19, 2006; A01

The weekend after the statue of Saddam Hussein fell, Kenneth Adelman and
a couple of other promoters of the Iraq war gathered at Vice President
Cheney's residence to celebrate. The invasion had been the "cakewalk"
Adelman predicted. Cheney and his guests raised their glasses, toasting
President Bush and victory. "It was a euphoric moment," Adelman recalled.

Forty-three months later, the cakewalk looks more like a death march,
and Adelman has broken with the Bush team. He had an angry falling-out
with Defense Secretary Donald H. Rumsfeld this fall. He and Cheney are
no longer on speaking terms. And he believes that "the president is
ultimately responsible" for what Adelman now calls "the debacle that was
Iraq."

Adelman, a former Reagan administration official and onetime member of
the Iraq war brain trust, is only the latest voice from inside the Bush
circle to speak out against the president or his policies. Heading into
the final chapter of his presidency, fresh from the sting of a midterm
election defeat, Bush finds himself with fewer and fewer friends. Some
of the strongest supporters of the war have grown disenchanted, former
insiders are registering public dissent and Republicans on Capitol Hill
blame him for losing Congress.

A certain weary crankiness sets in with any administration after six
years. By this point in Bill Clinton's tenure, bitter Democrats were
competing to denounce his behavior with an intern even as they were
trying to fight off his impeachment. Ronald Reagan was deep in the
throes of the Iran-contra scandal. But Bush's strained relations with
erstwhile friends and allies take on an extra edge of bitterness amid
the dashed hopes of the Iraq venture.

"There are a lot of lives that are lost," Adelman said in an interview
last week. "A country's at stake. A region's at stake. This is a
gigantic situation. . . . This didn't have to be managed this bad. It's
just awful."

The sense of Bush abandonment accelerated during the final weeks of the
campaign with the publication of a former aide's book accusing the White
House of moral hypocrisy and with Vanity Fair quoting Adelman, Richard
N. Perle and other neoconservatives assailing White House leadership of
the war.

Since the Nov. 7 elections, Republicans have pinned their woes on the
president.

"People expect a level of performance they are not getting," former
House speaker Newt Gingrich (R-Ga.) said in a speech. Many were livid
that Bush waited until after the elections to oust Rumsfeld.

"If Rumsfeld had been out, you bet it would have made a difference,"
Sen. Arlen Specter (R-Pa.) said on television. "I'd still be chairman of
the Judiciary Committee."

And so, in what some saw as a rebuke, Senate Republicans restored Trent
Lott (Miss.) to their leadership four years after the White House helped
orchestrate his ouster, with some saying they could no longer place
their faith entirely in Bush.

Some insiders said the White House invited the backlash. "Anytime anyone
holds themselves up as holy, they're judged by a different standard,"
said David Kuo, a former deputy director of the Bush White House's
faith-based initiatives who wrote "Tempting Faith," a book that accused
the White House of pandering to Christian conservatives. "And at the end
of the day, this was a White House that held itself up as holy."

Richard N. Haass, a former top Bush State Department official and now
president of the Council on Foreign Relations, said a radically
different approach to world affairs naturally generates criticism. "The
emphasis on promotion of democracy, the emphasis on regime change, the
war of choice in Iraq -- all of these are departures from the
traditional approach," he said, "so it's not surprising to me that it
generates more reaction."

The willingness to break with Bush also underscores the fact that the
president spent little time courting many natural allies in Washington,
according to some Republicans. GOP leaders in Congress often bristled at
what they perceived to be a do-what-we-say approach by the White House.
Some of those who did have more personal relationships with Bush, Cheney
or Rumsfeld came to feel the sense of disappointment more acutely
because they believed so strongly in the goals the president laid out
for his administration.

The arc of Bush's second term has shown that the most powerful criticism
originates from the inside. The pragmatist crowd around Colin L. Powell
began speaking out nearly two years ago after he was eased out as
secretary of state. Powell lieutenants such as Haass, Richard L.
Armitage, Carl W. Ford Jr. and Lawrence B. Wilkerson took public the
policy debates they lost on the inside. Many who worked in Iraq returned
deeply upset and wrote books such as "Squandered Victory" (Larry
Diamond) and "Losing Iraq" (David L. Phillips). Military and CIA
officials unloaded after leaving government, culminating in the
"generals' revolt" last spring when retired flag officers called for
Rumsfeld's dismissal.

On the domestic side, Bush allies in Congress, interest groups and the
conservative media broke their solidarity with the White House out of
irritation over a number of issues, including federal spending, illegal
immigration, the Supreme Court nomination of Harriet Miers, the response
to Hurricane Katrina and the Dubai Ports World deal.

Most striking lately, though, has been the criticism from
neoconservatives who provided the intellectual framework for Bush's
presidency. Perle, Adelman and others advocated a robust use of U.S.
power to advance the ideals of democracy and freedom, targeting
Hussein's Iraq as a threat that could be turned into an opportunity.

In an interview last week, Perle said the administration's big mistake
was occupying the country rather than creating an interim Iraqi
government led by a coalition of exile groups to take over after Hussein
was toppled. "If I had known that the U.S. was going to essentially
establish an occupation, then I'd say, 'Let's not do it,' " and instead
find another way to target Hussein, Perle said. "It was a foolish thing
to do."

Perle, head of the Pentagon's Defense Policy Board at the time of the
2003 invasion, said he still believes the invasion was justified. But he
resents being called "the architect of the Iraq war," because "my view
was different from the administration's view from the very beginning"
about how to conduct it. "I am not critical now of anything about which
I was not critical before," he said. "I've said it more publicly."

White House officials tend to brush off each criticism by claiming it
was over-interpreted or misguided. "I just fundamentally disagree,"
Cheney said of the comments by Perle, Adelman and other neoconservatives
before the midterm elections. Others close to the White House said the
neoconservatives are dealing with their own sense of guilt over how
events have turned out and are eager to blame Bush to avoid their own
culpability.

Joshua Muravchik, a neoconservative at the American Enterprise
Institute, said he is distressed "to see neocons turning on Bush" but
said he believes they should admit mistakes and openly discuss what went
wrong. "All of us who supported the war have to share some of the blame
for that," he said. "There's a question to be sorted out: whether the
war was a sound idea but very badly executed. And if that's the case, it
appears to me the person most responsible for the bad execution was
Rumsfeld, and it means neocons should not get too angry at Bush about that."

It may also be, he said, that the mistake was the idea itself -- that
Iraq could serve as a democratic beacon for the Middle East. "That part
of our plan is down the drain," Muravchik said, "and we have to think
about what we can do about keeping alive the idea of democracy."

Few of the original promoters of the war have grown as disenchanted as
Adelman. The chief of Reagan's arms control agency, Adelman has been
close to Cheney and Rumsfeld for decades and even worked for Rumsfeld at
one point. As a member of the Defense Policy Board, he wrote in The
Washington Post before the Iraq war that it would be "a cakewalk."

But in interviews with Vanity Fair, the New Yorker and The Post, Adelman
said he became unhappy about the conduct of the war soon after his
ebullient night at Cheney's residence in 2003. The failure to find
weapons of mass destruction disturbed him. He said he was disgusted by
the failure to stop the looting that followed Hussein's fall and by
Rumsfeld's casual dismissal of it with the phrase "stuff happens." The
breaking point, he said, was Bush's decision to award Medals of Freedom
to occupation chief L. Paul Bremer, Gen. Tommy R. Franks and then-CIA
Director George J. Tenet.

"The three individuals who got the highest civilian medals the president
can give were responsible for a lot of the debacle that was Iraq,"
Adelman said. All told, he said, the Bush national security team has
proved to be "the most incompetent" of the past half-century. But, he
added, "Obviously, the president is ultimately responsible."

Adelman said he remained silent for so long out of loyalty. "I didn't
want to bad-mouth the administration," he said. In private, though, he
spoke out, resulting in a furious confrontation with Rumsfeld, who
summoned him to the Pentagon in September and demanded his resignation
from the defense board.

"It seemed like nobody was getting it," Adelman said. "It seemed like
everything was locked in. It seemed like everything was stuck." He
agrees he bears blame as well. "I think that's fair. When you advocate a
policy that turns bad, you do have some responsibility."

Most troubling, he said, are his shattered ideals: "The whole philosophy
of using American strength for good in the world, for a foreign policy
that is really value-based instead of balanced-power-based, I don't
think is disproven by Iraq. But it's certainly discredited."

The Curse of ***** Cheney
Once you get to know his history, the cycle becomes clear:
"But he is the most partisan politician I've ever met."
-- former Sen. Tim Wirth of Colorado
"He has the least interest in human beings of anyone I have ever met,"
--- John Perry Barlow, Cheney former supporter.
By T.D. ALLMAN / ROLLING STONE
The veep's career has been marred by one disaster after another
The Cheney jinx first manifested itself at the presidential level back
in 1969, when Richard Nixon appointed him to his first job in the
executive branch. It surfaced again in 1975, when Gerald Ford made
Cheney his chief of staff and then -- with Cheney's help -- lost the
1976 election. George H.W. Bush, having named Cheney secretary of
defense, was defeated for re-election in 1992. The ever-canny Ronald
Reagan was the only Republican president since Eisenhower who managed
to serve two full terms. He is also the only one not to have appointed
***** Cheney to office.
This pattern of misplaced confidence in Cheney, followed by disastrous
results, runs throughout his life -- from his days as a dropout at Yale
to the geopolitical chaos he has helped create in Baghdad. Once you get
to know his history, the cycle becomes clear:
First, Cheney impresses someone rich or powerful, who causes unearned
wealth and power to be conferred on him. Then, when things go wrong, he
blames others and moves on to a new situation even more advantageous to
himself.
"Cheney's manner and authority of voice far outstrip his true
abilities," says Chas Freeman, who served under Bush's father as
ambassador to Saudi Arabia. "It was clear from the start that Bush
required adult supervision -- but it turns out Cheney has even worse
instincts. He does not understand that when you act recklessly, your
mistakes will come back and bite you on the *****."
Cheney's record of mistakes begins in 1959, when Tom Stroock, a
Republican politician-businessman in Casper, Wyoming, got Cheney, then
a senior at Natrona County High School, a scholarship to Yale.
"***** was the all-American boy, in the top ten percent of his class,"
Stroock says. "He seemed a natural." But instead of triumphing, Cheney
failed. "He spent his time partying with guys who loved football but
weren't varsity quality," recalls Stephen Billings, an Episcopalian
minister who roomed with him during Cheney's freshman (and only full)
year at Yale. "His idea was, you didn't need to master the material,"
says his other roommate, Jacob Plotkin. "He passed one psych course
without attending class or studying, and he was proud of that. But
there are some things you can't bluff, and ***** reached a point where
you couldn't recover."
Cheney might have been flunking in the classroom, but he excelled at
making connections. "***** always had this very calm way of talking,"
recalls Plotkin, now a retired math professor at Michigan State
University. "His thoughtful manner impressed people." Forty years
before the son of a U.S. president picked Cheney to be his running
mate, the son of a Massachusetts governor picked him to be his
sophomore-year roommate. Mark Furcolo, whose father, Foster, had been
elected governor as a Democrat, invited Cheney to Cape Cod for a visit.
"***** came back enraptured," Plotkin says. "He was fascinated by the
official state cars and planes. The trappings of it got him."
It could have been the start of a brilliant career -- in the
Massachusetts of the 1960s, it would not have been too great a leap
from the Furcolos to the Kennedys. Instead, after only one term as a
Yale sophomore, Cheney dropped out. "***** never had the experience of
learning from his mistakes," says Tom Fake, a Natrona classmate who
also won a Yale scholarship. But he learned something perhaps more
important to this future success. "He found a path that got him into
powerful positions" is how Plotkin puts it.
After leaving Yale, Cheney had one of his few experiences working in
the private sector, on a telephone-company repair crew. He showed no
interest, one way or another, in the Vietnam War -- until a Texas
president, nearly forty years before George W. Bush, turned a remote
foreign struggle into a catastrophic, unwinnable war. Thanks to Lyndon
Johnson's escalation of Vietnam, lounging around was suddenly no longer
an option. Cheney snapped into action. First he enrolled in Casper
Community College; then he went to the University of Wyoming.
That kept him out of the draft until August 7th, 1964, when Congress
initiated massive conscription in the armed forces. Three weeks later,
Cheney married Lynne Vincent, his high school girlfriend, earning him
another deferment. Then, on October 26th, 1965, the Selective Service
announced that childless married men no longer would be exempted from
having to fight for their country. Nine months and two days later, the
first of Cheney's two daughters, Elizabeth, was born. All told, between
1963 and 1966, Cheney received five deferments.
In January 1967, when he was enrolled at the University of Wisconsin,
Cheney passed his twenty-sixth birthday, making him safe from the draft
-- and making it safe for him to abandon work on a doctoral degree. He
had taken to hanging out with local politicians and acted as an unpaid
assistant to Wisconsin's moderate Republican governor, Warren Knowles.
In 1968, he used Knowles to get a progressive Wisconsin Republican
congressman named William Steiger to let him work as an intern in his
office in Washington.
For the first time, Cheney went to live in a city with a population of
more than 200,000 people. What happened next occurred with amazing ease
and speed. Having used Knowles as a steppingstone to Steiger, Cheney
used Steiger as a steppingstone to a Nixon appointee named Donald
Rumsfeld, then head of the Office of Economic Opportunity.
"What I saw was a young fellow, intelligent, purposeful, laid-back,"
Rumsfeld later remembered, when asked why he'd hired Cheney. His
greatest utility, then and later, was that he lapped up work that
higher-ranking officials were happy to see disappear from their plates.
"He would take a problem, worry it through and move things to a
conclusion," Rumsfeld recalled.
In 1973, while Nixon was self-destructing, Cheney, then thirty-two, got
a job at the investment firm of Bradley, Woods and Company. "*****
needed to make some money," Bruce Bradley explained. "He and Lynne and
their girls lived in a modest house, and he drove a used Volkswagen
Beetle." Both Bradley and Cheney were Republicans, but they differed on
Watergate. Bradley recognized that Nixon had violated fundamental
American values; Cheney saw Watergate as a power struggle. They even
debated each other, in a forum arranged for Bradley's clients.
"He claimed it was just a political ploy by the president's enemies,"
says Bradley. "Cheney saw politics as a game where you never stop
pushing. He said the presidency was like one of those giant medicine
balls. If you get a hold of it, what you do is, you keep pushing that
ball and you never let the other team push back."
Nixon's resignation opened the way for Cheney's first truly astonishing
inside move up. When Gerald Ford succeeded to the presidency, he needed
experienced loyalists by his side who were untainted by the Nixon
scandal, so he named Rumsfeld his chief of staff. Rumsfeld brought
Cheney right along with him into the Oval Office.
The period between August 1974 and November 1976, when Ford lost the
election to Jimmy Carter, is essential to understanding George W.
Bush's disastrous misjudgments -- and ***** Cheney's role in them. In
both cases, Cheney and Rumsfeld played the key role in turning
opportunity into chaos. Ford, like Bush later, hadn't been elected
president. As he entered office, he was overshadowed by a secretary of
state (Kissinger then, Powell later) who was considered incontestably
his better. Ford was caught as flat-footed by the fall of Saigon in
April 1975 as Bush was by the September 2001 attacks. A better
president, with more astute advisers, might have arranged a more
orderly ending to the long and divisive war. But instead of heeding the
country's desire for honesty and reconciliation, Rumsfeld and Cheney
convinced Ford that the way to turn himself into a real president was
to stir up crises in international relations while lurching to the
right in domestic politics.
Having turned Ford into their instrument, Rumsfeld and Cheney staged a
palace coup. They pushed Ford to fire Defense Secretary James
Schlesinger, tell Vice President Nelson Rockefeller to look for another
job and remove Henry Kissinger from his post as national security
adviser. Rumsfeld was named secretary of defense, and Cheney became
chief of staff to the president. The Yale dropout and draft dodger was,
at the age of thirty-four, the second-most-powerful man in the White
House.
As the 1976 election approached, Rumsfeld and Cheney used the immense
powers they had arrogated to themselves to persuade Ford to scuttle the
Salt II treaty on nuclear-arms control. The move helped Ford turn back
Reagan's challenge for the party's nomination -- but at the cost of
ceding the heart of the GOP to the New Right. Then, in the presidential
election, Jimmy Carter defeated Ford by 2 million votes.
In his first test-drive at the wheels of power, Cheney had played a
central role in the undoing of a president. Wrote right-wing columnist
Robert Novak, "White House Chief of Staff Richard Cheney... is blamed
by Ford insiders for a succession of campaign blunders."
Those in the old elitist wing of the party thought the decision to dump
Rockefeller was both stupid and wrong: "I think Ford lost the election
because of it," one of Kissinger's former aides says now. Ford agreed,
calling it "the biggest political mistake of my life."
Back in Wyoming, Cheney used his connections to skim along to yet
another success. "Some fellows from Casper called me," recalls former
Sen. Alan Simpson, "told me they had found this amazing young man and
were going to promote him for Congress. They gave a big to-do for him.
I went to take a look. It was the first time I set eyes on ***** Cheney.
You could tell right away he was a smart cookie." In the 1978 election,
Cheney became Wyoming's sole member of the House.
"The top people had decided it would be *****, so that basically settled
it," recalls John Perry Barlow, a fourth-generation Wyomingite who
campaigned for Cheney. "***** had been chief of staff to a president.
That made everyone assume he knew what he was doing."
In an overwhelmingly Republican state, Cheney now had a safe seat in
Congress for as long as he wanted. On Capitol Hill, he combined a
moderate demeanor with a radical agenda. People who find Cheney's
extremism as vice president surprising have not looked at his
congressional voting record. In 1986, he was one of only twenty-one
members of the House to oppose the Safe Drinking Water Act.
He fought efforts to clean up hazardous waste and backed tax breaks for
energy corporations. He repeatedly voted against funding for the
Veterans Administration. He opposed extending the Civil Rights Act. He
opposed the release of Nelson Mandela from jail in South Africa. He
even voted for cop-killer bullets.
"I don't believe he is an ideologue," says former Sen. Tim Wirth of
Colorado. "But he is the most partisan politician I've ever met."
Many weekends, while Congress was in session, Wirth and Cheney would
take the same flight to Chicago, where they'd change planes for
Colorado and Wyoming. "I spent a lot of time waiting for planes with
***** Cheney," Wirth, a Democrat, says. "He never talked about ideology.
He talked about how the Republicans were going to take over the House
of Representatives." Wirth adds, "It seemed impossible, but that's
exactly what happened."
Cheney knew precisely who should lead the GOP takeover. "***** and Lynne
had their eyes on the speakership," says Professor Fred Holborn of the
Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies. "He and Lynne
wrote a book on the speakership." As the subtitle of Kings of the Hill
indicates, it is about how "powerful men changed the course of American
history" through control of the House.
Cheney's strategy for gaining power was the same one he and Rumsfeld
had foisted on Ford: making sure no one in the Republican Party
outflanked him to the right. This was a deeply divisive approach,
because it involved pandering to racial and religious extremists and
using complex matters of national security as flag-waving wedge ssues.
"*****'s votes against civil rights and the environment were parts of
complex deals aimed at enhancing his own power," says Barlow, his
former supporter.
In 1988, Cheney was named House minority whip, the second-ranking post
in his party's hierarchy. Had he stayed in the House, it is possible
that he would have become speaker. But the following year, another
powerful person decided to confer great nonelective power on Cheney.
When President George H.W. Bush named him to head the Defense
Department, the Senate unanimously confirmed the choice. Not a single
senator seems to have considered it anomalous that control of the
strongest armed forces on earth was being conferred on a person who had
gone to notable lengths to avoid service in those same armed forces.
Appointed to another powerful position, Cheney promptly went about
screwing it up. He pushed to turn many military duties over to private
companies and began moving "defense intellectuals" with no military
experience into key posts at the Pentagon. Most notable among them was
Paul Wolfowitz, who later masterminded much of the disastrous strategy
that George W. Bush has pursued in Iraq.
In 1992, as undersecretary of defense, Wolfowitz turned out a
forty-page report titled "Defense Planning Guidance," arguing that
historic allies should be demoted to the status of U.S. satellites, and
that the modernization of India and China should be treated as a
threat, as should the democratization of Russia. "We must maintain the
mechanisms for deterring potential competitors from even aspiring to a
larger regional or global role," the report declared. It was nothing
less than a blueprint for worldwide domination, and Cheney loved it. He
maneuvered to have the president adopt it as doctrine, but the elder
Bush, recognizing that the proposals were not only foolish but
dangerous, immediately rejected them.
By the end of the first Bush administration, others had come to the
conclusion that Cheney and his followers were dangerous. "They were
referred to collectively as the crazies," recalls Ray McGovern, a CIA
professional who interpreted intelligence for presidents going back to
Kennedy. Around the same time, McGovern remembers, Secretary of State
James Baker and National Security Adviser Brent Scowcroft counseled the
elder President Bush, "Keep these guys at arm's length."
In November 1992, when George H.W. Bush lost to Bill Clinton, Cheney
had his second president shot out from under him. He knocked around
Washington at various neoconservative think tanks for two years, and
the old pattern repeated itself: Powerful benefactors once again gave
Cheney a big break. As Dan Briody recounts in his book The Halliburton
Agenda, Cheney was on a fishing trip in New Brunswick, Canada, with a
group of high-powered corporate CEOs. "The men were discussing the
ongoing search for a CEO at Halliburton," Briody reports. "Cheney was
asleep back at the lodge and, in his absence, the men decided that
Cheney would be the man for the job, despite the fact that he had never
worked in the oil business."
Halliburton was Cheney's first real chance to get rich; he grabbed it
with both hands. His principal action was his acquisition of a
subsidiary called Dresser Industries. Dresser struck lucrative deals
with Saddam Hussein; Halliburton did business with Muammar el-Qaddafi
and the ayatollahs of Iran. By the time Cheney left in 2000,
Halliburton's stock was near an all-time high of fifty-four dollars a
share. Then it turned out that Dresser had saddled Halliburton with
asbestos lawsuits that could cost the company millions, and the stock
plummeted to barely ten dollars a share. Even with the bounce
Halliburton stock has received from the war, an investor who put
$100,000 into the company just before Cheney became vice president
would have less than $60,000 today. Cheney, meanwhile, continues to
receive $150,000 a year in deferred compensation from Halliburton, even
though he is supposed to divest himself of all conflicts of interest.
The company has been awarded $8 billion in contracts by the Bush-Cheney
administration for its work in Iraq.
It could be argued that the vice presidency was the first job Cheney
got entirely on his own -- by appointing himself to it. Bush initially
asked Cheney only to advise him on whom to choose. After assuring Bush
that he himself had no ambition to be vice president, Cheney then
arranged it so that all options narrowed down to him.
Since Cheney lived in Texas at the time, choosing him led Bush into a
situation that, if the words of our Founding Fathers still have any
meaning, is unconstitutional. The Constitution forbids a state's
electors from voting for candidates for president and vice president
who are both "an inhabitant of the same state as themselves." Yet by
voting for Bush and Cheney, electors in Texas did precisely that.
Cheney lived in Texas, had a Texas driver's license and filed his
federal income tax using a Texas address. He had also voted in Texas,
not in Wyoming, a state where he had not lived full-time for decades.
As vice president, Cheney has been the decisive force pushing America
into war. In the inner councils of the administration, it was he who
emasculated Colin Powell, cut the State Department out of effective
policymaking, foisted fake reports on the intelligence agencies and
supplanted the National Security Council.
It was also Cheney who placed appointees personally loyal to him,
including Rumsfeld and Wolfowitz, in charge of the Pentagon and
speckled the warmaking bureaucracy with desk officers culled from
neoconservative Washington think tanks -- ideologues with no military
experience.
"They were like cancer cells," says retired Lt. Col. Karen Kwiatkowski,
who worked on the Defense Department's Near East and South Asia desk
during the buildup to the Iraq war. "They didn't care about the truth.
They had an agenda. I'd never seen anything like it. They deformed
everything."
Even within the State Department, officials of Cheney's choosing -- not
Powell's -- controlled the key positions when it came to maneuvering
the United States into the Iraq war. "Even when there was a show of
Defense listening to State, it was just one Cheney operative talking to
another," says Greg Thielmann, a former member of the State Department
Intelligence Agency. "We were simply bypassed from the start."
Over at Defense, competent intelligence professionals were purged in
order to ease the way to war. Douglas Feith, brought in under Rumsfeld
to serve as undersecretary of defense for policy, applied an
ideological test to his staff: He didn't want competence; he wanted
fervor.
Col. Pat Lang, a Middle East expert who served under five presidents,
Republican and Democratic, in key posts in military intelligence,
recalls being considered for a job at the Pentagon. During the job
interview, Feith scanned Lang's impressive resume. "I see you speak
Arabic," Feith said. When Lang nodded, Feith said, "Too bad," and
dismissed him.
Cheney suffered his biggest failure in March 2002, when he visited nine
Arab and Muslim countries six months after the 9/11 attacks. The vice
president anticipated a triumphal tour of the region as, one by one, he
enlisted the countries he visited in the cause of "taking out" Saddam
Hussein. In the end, not a single country Cheney visited provided
troops for the Bush-Cheney war -- including staunch American allies in
Jordan and Turkey -- and almost all refused to let their territory be
used for the attack.
Once again, however, Cheney did not let reality dissuade him from his
course. As the disaster has unfolded in Iraq, he has continued to
insist against all evidence that Saddam possessed weapons of mass
destruction, that the dictator was aiding Al Qaeda, that nothing the
Bush administration has done was a mistake. Those who have known him
over the years remain astounded by what they describe as his almost
autistic indifference to the thoughts and feelings of others. "He has
the least interest in human beings of anyone I have ever met," says
John Perry Barlow, his former supporter.
Cheney's freshman-year roommate, Steve Billings, agrees: "If I could
ask ***** one question, I'd ask him how he could be so unempathetic."
It's a question Cheney is unlikely ever to answer. Throughout the
years, he has sealed himself off from the possibility of such
inquiries. The most famous example is his draft evasion during the
Vietnam War. He has never candidly discussed his feelings about the
war, the traumatic, formative event for American males of his age.
Only once, in fact, has he even answered a question as to why he
avoided serving.
"I had other priorities," was all he has ever said.
.


  Page 1 of 1

1

 


Related Articles
 

NEWER

pg.3585     pg.2749     pg.2106     pg.1612     pg.1232     pg.940     pg.716     pg.544     pg.412     pg.311     pg.234     pg.175     pg.130     pg.96     pg.70     pg.50     pg.35     pg.24     pg.16     pg.10     pg.6     pg.3     pg.1

OLDER