A FEW years ago in London, when Fergie had taken to emulating her sister-in-law and dropping in on emergency wards, hospices, and general scenes of human tragedy, I suggested that the British might like to start carrying an equivalent of the organ-donor card: โIn the event that I am seriously injured in a car accident, terrorist bombing, etc., I do not wish to be visited by the Duchess of York.โ It may be time for a U.S. variation, perhaps printed on the back of a GI dog tag: โIn the event that I am taken prisoner and used as a human shield by a ruthless tyrant, I do not wish to be rescued by the Rev. Jesse Jackson.โ
Let us stipulate that Americaโs three POWs would have preferred to be somewhere other than Serbia. Let us stipulate, too, that the Pentagon was correct when it revealed that their doctors had determined the men had been โbeaten,โ even though the victims themselves speak only of their excellent treatment. But anyone who remembers those downed RAF pilots forced by Saddam into going on Iraqi TV and denouncing Western imperialist aggression will be grateful that at least Slobo didnโt degrade his captives by using them as propaganda tools and making them say things they would obviously have preferred not to say, just for the benefit of the cameras. Instead, he left that to Jesse. As they crossed the border into Croatia, the POWs were cajoled by the Rev. Jackson into linking hands and joining him in shouting, โFree at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, Iโm free at last!โ Never mind that previous generations of fighting men would have considered the entire scene . . . unsoldierly. Left to their own devices, the POWs might have broken into Celineโs big theme from Titanic, or the Hokey- Pokey, or selections from Brigadoon. But the unlikely cover version of Martin Luther Kingโs famous speech couldnโt have made it clearer: Jesseโs the star and the boys merely the supporting chorusโanonymous Blowfish to his Hootie.





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