Tuesday, September 4, 2012

"Daniel Patrick Moynihan: A Portrait in Letters of an American Visionary" Review


By BRETT WARNKE
Review of Daniel Patrick Moynihan:  A Portrait in Letters of an American Visionary; published October 12, 2010 by Public Affairs.
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New York Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan said enough for himself, as you will notice upon picking up the recently released 674-page A Portrait in Letters of an American Visionary.  But with no complete memoir or autobiography (other than A Dangerous Place) this book reveals him as a gifted bureaucratic pamphleteer.  The letters reveal him as a quirky, brilliant, calculating, thinker and a spiky and vengeful pain in the ass.  But they are the perfect medium for a man whose life is best told in the memoranda and jottings through which he hoped to spur action. (By others of course—Moynihan clearly enjoyed the study and the debating stage.)
In the flurry of these letters, Moynihan writes of growing up in Hell’s Kitchen just as the great New York wave of immigrants had been halted by the racist Johnson Reed Act.  He mentions his boyhood shoe-shining and mischief, noting that the Kitchen was so Irish that he didn’t know he was Irish until he left.  After joining Kennedy’s “best and brightest” Moynihan’s illusions began to evaporate; his stint in the Johnson White House was brief.  Subsequently, he moved in and out of academia and became a fixture in the Washington establishment.  Moynihan cottoned on to the incoming Republicans and understood the “self-made” mythology which feeds conservatism; he adapted his tune accordingly to influence Richard Nixon who had also lifted the awful Henry Kissinger from the failed Rockefeller campaign.  Moynihan’s writings are keenly aware of the personalities and preoccupations in those squalid Nixon years and, like Kissinger, he was able to stoke Nixon’s coals.  In one memo, Moynihan describes Johnson being “toppled by a mob”—ever the reactionary’s nightmare—and describes the unwashed crowd comprised of “college professors, millionaires, flower children, and Radcliffe girls.”  (This was the White House Democrat, by the way.)  He wrote that Nixon would be free to “dominate and direct” social transformation, cleverly playing upon the red-baiter’s incurable narcissism. 
Arthur Schlesinger’s similarly excellent diaries reveal the personal contradictions and intestine squabbles that made Moynihan notorious, relevant, and fascinating:
Pat Moynihan is up for reelection this year.  He is a brilliant and entirely opportunistic man.  He anticipated the neoconservative swing and in 1967 gave a talk to the ADA in which he said, in effect, liberalism had gone too far, government couldn’t solve all our problems and, in particular, the young and the blacks were becoming pains in the neck.  I think that Pat had a bum rap after his 1964 study on the family but that he took it too personally and expended too much energy in subsequent years paying people back. 
Schlesinger, noting another exchange after one of his unnumbered cocktail parties writes of Moynihan’s “egotism and rancor:”
Pat, I thought, was more than usually intolerable.  He swells like a bullfrog and punctuates his speech with a repertoire of sweeping gestures and smug expressions.  Like the late Dean Acheson, he tells stories all of which illustrate his triumph over someone else.  He was superficially cordial but obviously detests me (manners and feelings I reciprocate). 
                To say that Moynihan, an elected politician for 24 years, was more “complex” or argue that he had “enemies on all sides” would be offering two clichés, but true ones.  But Schlesinger’s criticism is not (only) petty jealousy.
The New Yorker won overwhelming majorities to a Senate seat beginning in 1976, yet he never exclusively belonged to (what is called) left or right.   As well as being a pol, he was a writer, ambassador, and policy wonk.  Liberals, before reading the Portrait’s letters, could describe him as a vengeful courtier (not unlike the similarly bow-tied Schlesinger), a wily hanger-on, who haunted the White House to satisfy ego and vendettas.  In this view, Moynihan was an obliging pillow who produced policy to fit the backsides of the powerful; an ambassador to India, he was safe during the sordid close of Nixon’s tenure; an opportunist, he finally deciding to round off an increasingly conservative career by getting himself elected through ethnic politics in New York. 
His internal criticisms would raise liberal hackles even today.  “Too frequently of late,” he wrote to Nixon in 1969, “the liberal upper middle class has proposed to solve problems of those at the bottom at the expense, or seeming expense, of those in between.”  This from a Kennedy man who supported community action, favored  racial quotas, and wrote that if the country had four centuries of exploitation to overcome “we will not do so by giving Negroes an equal opportunity with whites who are by now miles ahead.”      
But those who may still denounce him as a compromiser or collaborator should also note that Moynihan recognized climate change as early as 1969, blasted the ossification and incompetence of the CIA which (along with not foreseeing recent develops in the Middle East) was astonishingly ignorant of the Soviet Union’s deterioration.  He spoke out against torture at the UN, defended what was left of the Great Society, bravely assailed the excesses of Clinton’s shameful welfare “reform,” (which he called “boob bait for bubbas”) and warned the world about the rise of ethnic politics in his prescient study Pandaemonium.  He even warned about a “diffuse, decentralized, irrational, even psychotic groups,” then plaguing the former Axis powers in the 1970s.   
But most importantly in the context of today’s enduring national security state, Moynihan presciently criticized the proliferation of government secrets as having no basis in law.  In memos as well as a book he takes on the culture of secrecy, quoting Max Weber,  that secrets were the “sharp weapons of the bureaucracy.” And, looking back, was Moynihan wrong to denounce, what he called, “the more hysterical members of the New Left who assume that the only thing that can save this civilization is for it to be destroyed”?  Or when he wrote (in 1981) that “we shall spend the coming years worrying about the deficit, arguing about military spending, and trying to cut domestic programs to ease the burden of both”? 
But how could we forget the Buchananite faction of the right wing?  Their gorge will rise as they read of Moynihan’s support for international law and the incisive though critical support he offered America’s social programs.  Moynihan’ pragmatism pushed him to offer solutions today’s far-right crowd could never consider.   He urged Nixon to pass an “income strategy” that guaranteed a wage which, the senator argued, fit within conservative principles not to offer a redistributive dole.  If employment was a key to the conservative goal of social stability, Moynihan argued, why would they be against keeping post-industrialism’s losers within the market rather than prey to crime or, even worse, leftists? 
But Moynihan did not, in this collection, comment on President Ford’s ghastly nod to Suharto’s invasion of East Timor and was naïve enough to suggest to Kissinger that he broach human rights at the UN.   This astonishing cluelessness reveals itself again when he wrote to Harry McPherson that Nixon “would be genuinely interested in our views.”  Anthony Summers argued as much in Arrogance of Power, writing that after a meeting with Nixon, Moynihan “came away from a first meeting with Nixon amazed at his ready admission of the huge gaps in his knowledge.”  Moynihan’s illusion of a humble and curious Nixon burned off as the President ignored his Cabinet and extended his criminal policy in Southeast Asia.  Moynihan also half-rightly wrote that Communism in America was an “ethnic phenomenon.”  Maybe.  But radicals like Thomas Paine, Eugene Debs, and Cesar Chavez who could certainly not be considered Communists can still never be discarded as merely members of the political consensus. 
Moynihan called himself a “Madisonian” but saw himself as a moral pragmatist.  He also said he wouldn’t mind the label “Al Smith Democrat.”  But, more so than a book by a “reliable” vote like Kucinich or Frank for the center-left of American politics, Moynihan’s letters are worth reading and his ideas are worth considering because he shook liberals from their cozy illusions about the welfare state.  The sadness which comes after reviewing Moynihan’s letters is that, like Larkin and Bellow’s recent collections, they are the last of a vanishing genre, the concluding pieces of an Enlightenment tradition of reasoned, patient, and developed correspondence.  This is a medium which has no heirs and Moynihan was one of its masters. 

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