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.”
‐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.
‐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).
‐#JAYBOOK#