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September 25, 2002 9:45 a.m. But did you say that about Ollie? The squeals of losers. More Aussie-love. Etc.

ike many others, I’m sort of sick of this line that only those who have known combat have a right to an opinion about Iraq — or rather, have a right to a hawkish, or “forward,” opinion. But I’m also somewhat amused by it.

My whole life long, the Left has been utterly contemptuous of the military. I was weaned on this prejudice, this hostility. How many times have you heard the following? “Give an example of an oxymoron, a contradiction in terms: ‘military intelligence.’” Ha, ha, ha. Seems like there was a long stretch — of years — when I heard this one maybe every other week. And people always said it with a huge sense of satisfaction.

Also, I remember well the Iran-contra hearings in the late-Reagan era. After Oliver North testified, stirringly, with all those medals, everyone — and I mean everyone — said, “You know, Ollie North’s the kind of guy you want in a foxhole. The kind of guy you want charging up a hill. But he’s a soldier, a Marine. You don’t want someone like that anywhere near policy. He should never have been in the White House.” Civilian control, civilian control, civilian control. It was theology.

I’m sorry to see that even Richard Armitage has entered the act — saying that those with a more cautious position are those who have participated in the hell of combat. First, it’s not true — take a poll, baby. You want only combat veterans to decide on Iraq policy? Be my guest. Second, Armitage is deputy secretary of state. He’s not some pol, or some pundit. He works for Bush, allegedly. I’d woodshed him a little. At the very least, I’d say something, or imply something, or administer a corrective. This BS has gotten out of hand.

Certain top Democrats just hate it, hate it, hate it when Republicans discuss the war. Then again, they may hate it when Republicans don’t.

Here is Tom Daschle, referring to Dick Cheney: “I must say, I was very chagrined that the vice president would go to a congressional district and make the assertion that they ought to vote for this particular Republican candidate because he was a war supporter, that he was bringing more support to the president than his opponent. If that doesn’t politicize this war, I don’t know what does.”

Yes, well, we’re all sorry for Mr. Daschle’s chagrin, but this is a democracy, and we discuss important things here, such as whether, and how, to go to war. In one breath, Daschle might insist on this; in another, he decries it. Depends on what suits him, politically.

Can you think of anything else more important to discuss on the campaign trail this year? Isn’t a matter of war more important than, say, a candidate’s nuance on prescription-drug benefits? It’s perfectly legitimate to stand up and say, “Vote for Smith, because he’s with the president on this war.” It’s perfectly legitimate to stand up and say, “Vote for Jones, because Bush is all wet on the war.” May the better man win — or rather, the people will decide, as they always do, rightly or wrongly.

If Tom Daschle rules the war out of bounds as a topic of political discussion, it’s because he thinks it doesn’t cut his way, at the moment. And that’s no principle. If he wants policymaking of the highest import without a little democratic rough-and-tumble, he can go to Russia.

Oh, no, wait: That’s a left-wing parody of the American Right, circa 1970.

On a related topic, I hear many on the left — the extreme-ish left — saying that any debate on the war has been suppressed. They pretend that anti-Bush views can’t get a hearing. What they mean is, they’re not winning the argument — that’s all. And when they can’t win, when the public really doesn’t respect them, they cry “Unfair!” “Suppression!” “McCarthy!” “A. Mitchell Palmer!” Etc.

Look, I don’t prevail in plenty of arguments: If I had my way, Social Security would be privatized tomorrow. But I don’t pretend that I’ve been suppressed. I acknowledge that the weight of opinion (or emotion) is against me.

When Susan Sarandon whines to the Euro-media that in an Age of Fear “progressive” views are stifled, what she means is: The dumb boobs won’t listen to me. Won’t agree with me.

Wanna see something cute from the New York Times? Katharine Q. Seelye, the political reporter, had an item on the gay-friendliness of Oregon’s Republican senator, Gordon H. Smith. Here’s how she began it: “George W. Bush’s compassionate conservatism never embraced protection of gays from hate crimes.”

Now, I know what she meant: She meant that Bush never signed legislation declaring that particular crimes against particular people were special “hate crimes.” But it came out weird, and outrageous. Of course Bush is against hate crimes perpetrated against gays: as he is against hate crimes, or any crimes, perpetrated against anyone. It requires no special, PC legislation to enforce the law — or shouldn’t. But this is how the Left — yes, the Big Bad Left — has seeped into our culture, our language, our everything.

Let Susan Sarandon know, will you?

The New York Sun, my paper, ran the following headline: “America Acting for Zionists, Saddam Says.” Yes, and not only Saddam: Been listening to Pat Buchanan lately? For that matter, been listening to him since about 1990?

Pat is one of the great heartaches of our times, and of my life, as I have written about before. I keep waiting for him to come home. But even if he doesn’t, I will never forget his heroism, puckishness, and effectiveness during the Reagan era. Decades of bad deeds couldn’t negate that. And his memoir, Right from the Beginning, is one of the most beautiful books you’ll ever read.

“Come home, America,” Pat’s old nemesis George McGovern used to say. Now he himself says it, in a way. And I still say: “Come home, Pat.” As Motel 6 puts it, we’ll leave the light on for you.

Another New York Sun headline? “Schumer Said Maneuvering Against Hispanic Nominee.” Schumer is New York’s senior senator, Chuck Schumer; the “Hispanic Nominee” is Miguel Estrada, a Bush choice for the D.C. Court of Appeals. In the context of today’s politics, Estrada is indeed an “Hispanic nominee” (a Hispanic nominee? That’s an old debate, which I’m not going to get into now, so hold your fire). But won’t it be nice when such as Estrada aren’t “Hispanic nominees,” or “African-American nominees,” or “female Aleut nominees” — just nominees, conservative or liberal, smart or dumb, principled or venal, simply human? Will we ever live to see that day?

Well, we did live to see the fall of the Soviet Union. This may be harder.

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I know one battle that’s an absolute loser: trying to explain to a liberal the meaning of “security risk,” in any discussion about J. Robert Oppenheimer. The subject has come up again in a hot new book involving the old, Reddish atomic scientist, Brotherhood of the Bomb. If anything, Oppenheimer is a sorer subject for the Left — the soft Left, not the outright Communist one — than Hiss.

For many years, I tried to explain to those around me that “security risk” was different from “proven Communist” or “proven spy.” When you said “risk,” you meant that, given the circumstantial evidence — which in Oppenheimer’s case was abundant, and frightening — it was imprudent to leave a particular man in a particular post. When Adm. Strauss and the others deemed Oppenheimer a security risk, they weren’t saying that he was, for sure, a Red, a traitor, a spy (though he might have been). They were saying: Given what we know, it would be foolish to leave Dr. Oppenheimer in charge of America’s nuclear program. It is a risk. A security risk.

That didn’t mean that Oppenheimer should have been banished to a dungeon — he could happily have taught physics somewhere, gone on the lecture circuit, beaten the hell out of McCarthy. Whatever. All it meant was that it was unwise, given the world situation, to leave him in a uniquely sensitive post.

But you cannot convince a liberal that “security risk” means what it implies. It’s hopeless. Believe me, I’ve tried — maybe you’ll have better luck.

Speaking of security risks (quite broadly): I was amused to see a column by Robert Fisk, the hard-Left, terror-excusing British journo (as the British themselves say). He wrote,

I flew from Washington National [guess he couldn’t bring himself to say “Reagan”] to New York’s La Guardia airport. In the pre-flight security-check queue, an Egyptian was in front of me. He was dark-skinned and his English was poor. The security staff could hear him speaking in Arabic. But they took his boarding card without a word and cheerfully wished him a good flight on this, the most terrible anniversary for anyone — let alone an Arab — to fly to New York. [This was 9/11/02.] It was I with my distinctly European features who received the random check: shoes off, computer examined, passport scrutinized.

Fisk finds this something good to say about America — and he has precious little. Of course, others would point to the same scenario and say, “This is what is screwy about the American approach to security — which isn’t an approach to security at all, but an expression of political correctness, which must trump all, even after Arab extremists have rained death upon us, and have vowed more.” Funny how different people will seize the same facts for different conclusions.

A shockingly elementary point, I realize, but sometimes we do that here.

In the previous Impromptus, I wrote about Australia, and referred to its prime minister as “the head of state.” This brought roughly 8,000 letters admonishing me that John Howard was not the head of state but the head of government — the Queen occupied the former role.

Yes, quite true — although we use “head of state” fairly loosely now, as in, “The summit meeting in Baden Baden featured nine heads of state.” That way, you don’t have to go through the rigmarole of “presidents, prime ministers, emperors, grand viziers . . .” Still, point well taken.

My discussion of Australia — my love for it, my admiration for it — brought the following note, which stands for many:

“I don’t know if this is strictly a failure of Bill Clinton or if any modern commander-in-chief would do the same, but here’s the story:

“Remember when the Australians stepped into the mess in East Timor and asked for American help and we over here had a debate over whether and what kind of help we should give? I think it eventually turned out to be just logistical support. Anyway, a sort of step-uncle of mine had served in Korea, apparently alongside some Australian troops, and I heard him say at a family gathering that the Australians had been our allies in every major conflict of the century, including ‘the f***ed-up ones like Vietnam,’ and that if Clinton had any sense of ‘national honor’ he would’ve called up the Joint Chiefs and said, ‘Give those people what they want.’”

And one more, from my friend and fellow columnist Larry Henry:

“Two or three things about Australia, about which I sentimentally agree with you. A few years back, the national address for Australia Day — their equivalent of the Fourth of July — was given by John Newcombe. [That would be “Newc” or “Nuke,” the same guy with whom a younger GWB, as it happened, was partying, when he had that fateful, perhaps popular-vote-costing DUI.] What would be our equivalent? An Independence Day address delivered by Tiger Woods? Or George Brett?

“Then, a few months after golfer Stuart Appleby’s wife Renee was killed during the British Open in a traffic accident, Appleby finished an emotional second to another Aussie in the Holden Masters, I believe it was. And the other golfer, in accepting the winning trophy, tearfully addressed Appleby, saying, ‘The whole country’s with you, Stuey.’ And you knew it was true.”

But there’s a sad element: “Nonetheless, as Robert Hughes remarked in The Fatal Shore (I paraphrase), Australians will put up with the most amazing intrusive Grundyism from their government, because so long as they can surf at lunchtime, they think they’re still free. I give you Australia’s recent experiment with banning gun ownership. Too bad, really.”

In a future Impromptus, I’m going to reprint a statement by an Australian politician — in support of America and its current efforts — that’ll knock your socks off.

Finally, a joke making the Internet rounds. Maybe I’m the last to have heard it. But maybe you’ll be:

Bill Clinton is getting $12 million for his memoirs, and Hillary got $8 million for hers. That’s $20 million for two people who, throughout eight years of investigation, testified repeatedly that they couldn’t remember (anything). (I’ve cleaned it up a little for you. See you.)

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