Federal Judiciary

'They don't embarrass easy,' &c. -- By: Jay Nordlinger

I am not a liberal Democrat, and you may not be, either. But if we were: Don?t you think we?d be embarrassed at the way Pelosi et al. are going about getting ?Obamacare? through? The parliamentary maneuvering, the skullduggery? Especially after Obama and the party at large promised openness, transparency, orderliness, and so on? The Democrats? legislation would mark a major change in the way we operate in this country. Don?t you think the legislation should be handled with honesty and dignity? Don?t you think that most of the country, or at least a good deal of it, should have a feeling of pride and satisfaction about the process?

Yes, yes, I know all about ?sausage and legislation?: Had it with my mother?s milk, so to speak. But the overhaul of American health care is not a grimy highway bill or something: It ought to be handled, if it is to be done, with a sense of honor.

I am a Republican who very much wanted something like George W. Bush?s Social Security reform to pass. But if Republicans had acted in a sneaky and highly partisan manner to pass it, I would have been embarrassed -- and said so. Social Security is a broadly American concern. Why aren?t Democrats embarrassed about health care? Is it sheer moral vanity -- the belief that they are doing something noble, no matter how much the yahoos squawk?

John Derbyshire once quoted Mick Jagger -- who was talking about his fellow rockers, I believe: ?They don?t embarrass easy.?

We all know that the Palestinian territories -- or whatever expression you prefer -- are divided in two: The extremists, Hamas, control the Gaza Strip; the moderates, Fatah, control the West Bank. But what do you say to moderates? naming a square in a town outside Ramallah after a terrorist? A mass-murdering terrorist?

They have just named the square for Dalal Mughrabi, a woman who led a team committing atrocities in 1978. Their atrocities are summed up in the name ?Coastal Road Massacre.? I will quote from a column about this matter:

On a Saturday in March 1978, the squad of Palestinian terrorists led by Mughrabi entered Israel by boat from Lebanon and made their way to the main road between Haifa and Tel Aviv. . . . By day?s end, they had murdered 38 innocent men, women and children.

The first person Mughrabi and her gang of terrorists encountered was Gale Rubin, an American photojournalist taking photos of birds near the beach. They killed her and continued on their deadly path.

They then hijacked a bus full of happy families returning from a Saturday excursion. On their way to Tel Aviv, the terrorists shot at passing cars and killed more innocent people.

The terrorists tied all the men?s hands to the bus seats. When Israeli security forces stopped the bus, the terrorists ran out while throwing hand grenades into the bus, setting it on fire. The men inside were burned alive.

And so on. If you can bear to read this column in full, go here. And can you bear this? It was written by three Israelis whose children were killed by a terrorist in 2003.

Question: How can you make peace with people who celebrate those who kill you? How? I am very patient with the Israelis: They are in a difficult position, to put it as mildly as possible.

I think of the Sbarro attack in 2001. Do you remember that one? A terrorist blew up a Sbarro?s restaurant in Jerusalem, killing 15. Okay, you say: Every society has its extremists, its murderers. But what do you do with this? At An-Najah University in Nablus, they created an exhibition celebrating this massacre. It was a diorama of sorts -- a mock-up -- showing the restaurant. The walls were drenched in blood, and body parts were strewn all over, along with pizza slices. Palestinian students -- the best and brightest in that society -- filed by reverently. It was like a religious rite.

How do you make peace with such people? Maybe you do. But can you grant it is hard?

When Israelis commit atrocities, Israeli authorities imprison them, and the society at large reviles them. When a Palestinian commits atrocities -- the authorities may well name a square after her. And those authorities are not only Hamas: They are the ?moderates? of Fatah, the moderates of the West Bank -- the people you can do business with.

I say again, it is not easy, not easy at all.

You remember this bitter joke? Palestinians desire the two-state solution: one state for Hamas, the other for Fatah. Ba-dum.

Did you check out those news photos of Vice President Biden standing beneath the portrait of Arafat? Biden was all smiles, Arafat was all smiles -- a sweet scene. I am reminded that, in the eight years of Clinton, Arafat was the most frequent foreign visitor to the White House. Clinton?s successor refused to deal with Arafat after the PLO chairman lied to him about the Karine A -- the freighter bearing many tons of weapons.

I liked George W. Bush. A lot.

The world is sick of hearing, ?If a conservative Republican said it . . .? -- but I am singing this song again. Dan Rather, appearing on The Chris Matthews Show, allowed that President Obama was -- ahem -- ?very articulate.? But ?he couldn?t sell watermelons if you gave him the state troopers to flag down the traffic.?

Now, could a conservative Republican survive in public life if he said such a thing? It would be hard enough for a Republican to get away with saying ?very articulate.? How about watermelons? Rather later said, ?Anyone who knows me personally or knows my professional career would know that race was not on my mind.? Yes, and that can be true of conservative Republicans, too. Next time one of them steps in it, racially, do you think Rather & Co. will cut him some slack? Doubtful.

A few weeks ago, I was at lunch with a friend of mine who said he was reading Paul Johnson?s new short biography of Churchill. ?It makes me happy,? said my friend. ?It makes me happy to read Paul Johnson. He just gives me a good feeling.?

I know exactly what he means. A couple of years ago, I interviewed Marilyn Horne, the retired, legendary mezzo-soprano. At one point, she said, ?I just love Brahms. He makes me feel good when I hear his music, when I sing it, when I teach it.? That was a penetrating comment: There is indeed a kindness, a consolation, in Brahms. He makes you ?feel good,? as Horne said.

Shortly after that interview, I told Johnson of Horne?s comment. And I said, ?Well, you make me feel good, too -- reading you makes me feel good.? Which it does. Even when Johnson is writing about terrible events -- wars, famines -- he bucks you up, somehow. A humanity comes through. The writer is on your side, he is your friend -- he wants the best for you, and for everyone.

The other day, I said to him, ?The only problem with your Churchill biography is it?s too short. I was sorry to come to the end.? He said, ?It?s supposed to be short!? True enough.

I have at least one -- maybe only one -- thing in common with Churchill: He worked in bed until noon (dictating, writing, talking on the phone); I sometimes like to work in bed until noon. I mentioned this to Johnson. He said, ?He really worked, you know.? I protested, ?I do too!? Amazing what you can do with a laptop: There is hardly any reason to rise from bed, until it?s time for a sundae. And you can take that back with you.

While in London and the rest of Britain, we Americans sometimes have close calls on the street: looking the wrong way, not seeing an approaching car. Sometimes those calls are worse than close. I learned, or was reminded, in Johnson?s bio that Churchill was clobbered by a car in New York: This was when he was crossing Fifth Avenue in 1931. His injuries were serious. So, Americans make mistakes, Brits make mistakes (though the Brits perform the courtesy of writing ?Look Left? and ?Look Right? directly on the streets). If Churchill can make a mistake -- it makes you feel like less of a dope.

Johnson writes on his first page, ?It is a joy to write his life, and to read about it.? So very, very true. I don?t know about you, but I never tire of reading about Churchill -- of seeing film clips of him, of hearing stories about him. I feel the same way about Lincoln (no film clips, alas). Those lives are inexhaustible, inexhaustibly interesting, and enjoyable, and edifying. I?ll tell you something about Churchill; then I?ll tell you something about Lincoln.

Johnson, in his bio, taught me a new word: ?jujube.? Actually, the word is not defined in his book: I asked him about it. A jujube -- am I the last to know? -- is kind of a gummy candy or lozenge. Jelly bean-ish, maybe.

Churchill attended a session of the House of Commons in 1950 -- and here?s Johnson:

When Hugh Gaitskell, then the new chancellor of the exchequer, a ?prissy Wykehamist? in Churchill?s view, who stood on his dignity a little too often, was making a solemn economic statement, Churchill began to search his pockets for something. First his trousers. Then his jacket. Then his top pocket. Then all his waistcoat pockets. This extensive search gradually attracted the attention of the House. Eventually Gaitskell, aware he had lost his audience, snapped at Churchill in irritation, ?Can I help you?? Churchill replied sweetly, ?I am only looking for a jujube.?

The House collapsed in laughter.

Isn?t that a wonderful, child-like word, ?jujube?? Can you just hear how Churchill deployed it? Johnson sort of reenacted the scene for me: imitating Gaitskell, imitating Churchill. (Johnson is a capital mimic.) Maybe we National Review types will ask him to do it on our next -- our upcoming (early May) -- cruise.

And an item from Lincoln? I just found out about this the other day. Jane Addams, the great social reformer, came from Illinois -- and her father was a friend of Lincoln?s. A businessman, banker, and politician, he was, in fact, one of the founders of the Republican party. In their correspondence, Lincoln would address him, ?My Dear Double D-ed Addams.? Isn?t that just like him? A touch -- very small -- that is pure Lincoln (like Churchill and the jujube).

Churchill did a great deal of painting in his life: a great deal. And, Johnson tells us, he became quite good at it. (Johnson is an authority on art, along with practically everything else.) The biographer further says that painting is a great antidote to melancholy: because, as you paint, you can think of nothing else. This is particularly true of watercolors, he says. It seems likely that painting helped Churchill fight his ?black dog.? Johnson himself is a devoted painter -- his father was an art teacher -- and he is a good one: I have seen many of his canvases. He is especially adept at trees and flowers, those eternal subjects.

What would artists do without trees and flowers? Well, there are always fruits in bowls . . .

Johnson is in an extraordinarily productive period, although, as I type that, I realize that his entire life has been an ?extraordinarily productive period.? One of his new books -- this is not an everyday volume -- is a biography of Jesus. It carries a touching, even a memorable, dedication: ?To my mother, Anne Johnson, who first taught me about Jesus.?

Let me throw a few more items at you, then let you go. Shortly after the Oscars, I saw a headline: ?Mo?Nique is 5th black woman to win acting Oscar.? The article began, ?Mo?Nique became the fifth black woman to win an acting Oscar, 70 years after Hattie McDaniel won the same honor for ?Gone With the Wind? -- the first Academy Award ever given to a black performer.?

I thought for a moment about the headline: ?Mo?Nique is 5th black woman to win acting Oscar.? How long will it make sense to keep counting this way? ?10th black woman to win acting Oscar?? ?15th?? ?30th?? Do you know what I mean? When are black actresses simply actresses (although I realize that actresses are now often called ?actors?)? (If ?actress? goes by the boards completely, how are they going to distinguish Best Actress and Best Actor? Huh? ?Best Actor, Female,? versus ?Best Actor, Male??)

Years ago, The New Republic, I believe, held a contest for Most Boring Headline. The winner was, ?Worthwhile Canadian Initiative.? I thought of this when seeing a recent headline over a wire-service story: ?Partisan bickering in Washington is nothing new.? Yeah?

My homeboy Ignat Solzhenitsyn will be performing in Florida over the weekend -- performing in a couple of senses. Ignat, you may know, is the middle son of the writer, and a pianist and conductor. He will be at Stetson University in DeLand -- yes, named after the man responsible for the hat. (The school nickname is the Hatters.) On Sunday, Ignat will give a lecture entitled ?One Life to Live: Choice and Free Will in One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich.? Then, putting on the hat of pianist, he will give a concert-lecture: presenting some Schubert. I am to introduce him at one of these events, I believe. Both events are free and open to the public. For more information, go here.

Those in Central Florida (more or less) have an opportunity to meet an extraordinary person -- extraordinary intellectually, musically, and otherwise. I might also mention that Ignat is the university?s Lawson Lecturer, and that the Lawson program is endowed by my dear friend, and National Review?s dear friend, Martha Apgar. She is an extraordinary person, too.

See what a fine Sunday it will be?

I think I mentioned music a second ago. If you?re interested in my latest piece in City Arts, go here. Under discussion are the young Polish pianist Rafal Blechacz; a new piece by Christopher Rouse, the American composer; and a performance of La bohème at the Metropolitan Opera, featuring Anna Netrebko, the Russian soprano, and Piotr Beczala, the Polish tenor. (I guess it has been a pretty good period for Poles in New York.)

More music? My ?New York Chronicle? in the current New Criterion is here. In the words of the site, ?This article is available to subscribers and for individual purchase.?

Yet more music? The next National Review will include a piece called ?A Nose, a Scot, and a Hun? (I can explain). The issue will be available in digital form tomorrow. I discuss Shostakovich?s opera The Nose at the Met; the Scottish composer James MacMillan (terribly interesting person); and Verdi?s Attila, again at the Met.

Told you I could explain.

Oh, I have a thousand more things to tell you, but I should really let you go. One more item (I think). Because of the St. Patrick?s Day parade, you could hardly move around in New York yesterday. But what a wonderful day! The weather was nearly perfect. And everyone was gay (in the old sense, I mean). The color green was everywhere, just as it was supposed to be, and you have never seen so many green ties. Businessmen sported every variety: every variety of green tie.

Ed and Margie Capano came into the city from New Jersey -- Ed is our former publisher. I always associate the St. Patrick?s Day parade with them. Don?t let the ?Capano? fool you: That was Ed?s father; his mother was Irish; and Margie?s a hundred-percenter.

National Review has a tradition of half-Italian, half-Irish publishers: Jack Fowler shares with Ed that blessed ancestral combination.

I discovered something about parades: Even in the age of whiz-bang technology -- what Avatar brings and so on -- they have the power to hold your attention, at least for a while, and entertain. The colors are striking, the precision marching is stirring, and when else can you hear marches? Are band concerts, featuring John Philip Sousa and the boys, still an American pastime?

A week before yesterday -- March 10 -- there was another parade in New York. More like a demonstration and protest. This was a day for Tibetans, marking the 3/10/59 uprising against Communist Chinese rule. Many of the Tibetans I saw were monks, wearing the traditional robes. The faces of all protesters were full of purpose. These men and women were as bold and as loud in New York as they are unable to be in Lhasa. It was moving to be among them, actually.

One more quick New York note, then out -- I promise the next Impromptus will be shorter (much)! I saw a tiny little car, with a vanity license plate: ?PARKABLE.? Don?t think I have ever seen a better one: a better vanity tag, I mean.

Thanks for joining me -- catch you later.

Full post as published by Bench Memos - National Review Online on March 18, 2010 (boomark / email).