The Hollywood Disconnect

National Review columnist Jonah Goldberg today makes a point that I've noticed for several years now: For an industry that once churned out war movies by the dozens, Hollywood now seems strangely reluctant to even mention the current war. One would think that with our modern realities of terrorism and war, screenwriters could compose some fairly compelling plots with that source material. Instead, the plotting acrobatics required by political correctness have subjected audiences to increasingly absurd and contrived villians, even by Hollywood standards. For instance, in 2002's The Sum of All Fears, an adaptation of Tom Clancy's greatest novel, the Islamic terrorists of the book were replaced by rich neo-Nazis, because, as we all know, it is the constant threat of skinhead terrorism that dominates headlines today. In the recent remake of The Manchurian Candidate, the communist bad guys were replaced by, you guessed it, evil corporate executives of a company that bore a striking resemblance to Halliburton. Osama who?

The war against Islamic terrorists is the first war in cinematic history in which Hollywood has refused to portray our enemies as, well, our enemies. Fear of being branded "intolerant" is obviously a factor, but it's not as if the film industry can't bring itself to show the horrors of war. Hollywood was not afraid to cast Nazis as the villains during World War II (in fact, Nazis are still the villians), and those crafty commies were often up to no good in Cold War-era films. One of the most refreshing attributes of the otherwise disappointing The Great Raid was its unflinching portrayal of the barbarity of Japanese POW camps. Try making a comparably realistic picture on the atrocities committed by Iraqi insurgents and you'd have a lawsuit on your hands.

But the most convincing evidence that Hollywood is out of touch with America during this war? Left-wing activist Oliver Stone, a friend of Fidel Castro, has been commissioned to direct the first major movie chronicling the events of 9/11. And they wonder why their movies don't resonate with audiences as they once did. Hollywood has always been the land of fantasy, but now it would do well to come back to the real world.

Thoughts on Iraq

In the four months I've had this blog, I've written about Iraq only once. This is not because I don't have strong opinions about the war, or because the war is unimportant; indeed, I believe that the outcome of the war is the most momentous issue of our time, and that its strategic and political consequences will reverberate for decades. Rather, I've mostly avoided the subject because I do not want to fall into the 24-hour news cycle trap of commenting on every single happening in Iraq, as if trends that take decades to fully develop could be discerned by a myopic focus on individual, tactical attacks. The true test of success in Iraq (and most of the media will never understand this) can only be measured many years from now.

I have supported the war since the very beginning, when it was only a rumor. In the aftermath of 9/11, I believed that the combination of political repression, anti-American sentiment, and suspected WMD stocks and terrorist links epitomized by Saddam's barbarous regime was too great a threat to ignore. When some would say that Saddam was no threat, and was not possibly foolish enough to attack the United States either overtly or covertly, I countered that it was far too dangerous to trust the restraint and strategic judgement of a man who had historically shown very little of either. The war against Islamic terrorism, I believed, could only be won if the region which cultivated its murderous ideology was provided a new form of government, one that would provide a political recourse to violent extremism.

Three years later, I haven't changed my mind. Now most of the media coverage of Iraq is focused on the difficulties of writing a constitution for a state beset by ethnic rivalries. Four years ago, if you were told that in 2005 Saddam would be facing trial for war crimes, and that elected Iraqi representatives would be haggling over a new constitution to enshrine the rule of law over the rule of the torture chambers and rape rooms, you would probably hail this is as a good--indeed, a miraculous--turn of events. But such perspective is in short supply these days.

Even with the stakes so high, most of the coverage of the Iraq war has been excruciatingly shallow, devoid of any semblance of historical perspective. Never before in history has the press had such an obsessive fixation with reporting bad news during wartime. While every American and civilian casualty in Iraq is undoubtedly a tragedy, by historical standards, the casualty rates are the among the lowest of any military engagement of any nation in history. Even World War II would have been difficult to fight with hysterical media ignoring good news and celebrating the bad.

Here in the traditionally slow news month of August, the media have found their annual diversionary story: Cindy Sheehan, the enraged mother of a soldier who was killed in Iraq last year. Mrs. Sheehan has been camping outside President Bush's Texas ranch for several weeks, demanding to know why "Bush killed my son." Although Bush met with her and her family a year ago, she says she will not leave until Bush meets with her a second time. Seeing an opportunity to rekindle the nostalgia of the Vietnam protest days, Michael Moore, Moveon.org, and all the other anti-war groups have rallied to her cause.

If President Bush granted her request for another meeting, I don't think it would be the end of the world. If handled correctly, it could even be a good opportunity to re-enforce public support for the war. But while no one is disputing Mrs. Sheehan's right to protest the war in which her son died, it would be a mistake to assume she speaks for her son. All the available evidence suggests otherwise. Casey Sheehan voluntarily enlisted in the Army in 2000, and then re-enlisted in August 2003, five months after the invasion of Iraq. Apparently Casey believed there was a noble cause worth fighting for in Iraq, even if his mother does not. Casey was killed in Sadr City, during a rescue mission for which he had personally volunteered. One year later, Sadr City, once a haven for the insurgency, is now one of the safest areas of Baghdad. Casey Sheehan's death was not in vain, despite what those who claim to speak for him now say.

Mrs. Sheehan and her opportunistic supporters have demanded that Bush bring "America's children" home immediately. Their word choice is deeply ironic, and revealing of the mindset behind some of the more vehement protestors. When leftists are not portraying our troops as bloodthirsty goons, they are portraying them as helpless children. They are neither. Once again, the Left's fundamental disrespect of those who serve in the military is obvious.

One of the anti-war crowd's favorite lines is, "If the cause is so noble, President Bush, then why don't you send your daughters to fight?" Never mind that Jenna and Barbara Bush are adults now, and can make their own career choice. Since it doesn't look like the Bush twins will be heading off to Iraq anytime soon, that, the thinking goes, makes Bush's war policy illegitimate.

Ah yes, the "chickenhawk" charge--the "yo momma" of anti-war comebacks. This tired old argument has seen a revival of late, as Cindy Sheehan, by virtue of her son's sacrifice, has been decreed by the anti-war crowd and much of the "mainstream" media to be above reproach, no matter how outlandish her statements. The logic, such as it is, of the accusation is simple (and simplistic): Unless you or a loved one has served on the front lines, you have no right to support the war. But the protestors don't even follow their own logic, because they refuse to extend the same absolute moral authority bequeathed to Mrs. Sheehan to military families who support the war. It could be because if military families--who tend to be more conservative--were permitted to be the sole arbitors of the morality of the Iraq war, the celebrators of Mrs. Sheehan would almost certainly find themselves in the minority. Or it could just be because they are sophists, and will grab any anti-war argument that comes along, no matter how logically lacking or baldly demagogic.

What is the noble cause in Iraq? It is the goal of bringing the global democratic revolution to the one region of the world that has been most resistant to it. Representative governance in the Middle East is the not the magic potion that will rid the world of Islamic terrorism, but by creating an outlet for radicalism to be vented politically, rather than through violence, it will do much to create the conditions of compromise and open debate that will, in turn, prompt the soul-searching so desperately needed in the Muslim world. Indeed, in places like Lebanon, Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and Gaza and the West Bank, there are indications that this internal debate between authoritarian regimes and domestic reformers has already begun. Encouraging this movement is in America's strategic and security interests, and that is why the cause in Iraq is--unequivocally and unmistakably--a noble one.

The Washington Post Resists Objectivity and Humor

Ever since President Bush nominated Judge John Roberts for the Supreme Court, left-wing interest groups have been frantic with worry that there are not enough damaging and controversial positions in Roberts' past to block him. The desperation to find a quote, a memo, anything to stop him has led to some rather comical overreaches by the Left, such as NARAL's (now aborted) attack ad that falsely claimed Roberts supported bombing abortion clinics.

Seeing the opposition to Roberts floundering, the Washington Post today rode to the rescue with a thinly disguised hit piece, subtly headlined, "Roberts Resisted Women's Rights." That's right, cue the evil, ominous music: Roberts is a male authoritarian who wants to keep women barefoot, pregnant, and at home. This article is the first in a series; the Post is also set to reveal that Roberts enjoys taking lollipops from poor children, and that he hates sunshine and puppies.

The article is based on recently-released memos from Roberts' days as assistant general counsel in the Reagan administration. The partisan purpose of the article is clear from the opening paragraphs:

Supreme Court nominee John G. Roberts Jr. consistently opposed legal and legislative attempts to strengthen women's rights during his years as a legal adviser in the Reagan White House, disparaging what he called "the purported gender gap" and, at one point, questioning "whether encouraging homemakers to become lawyers contributes to the common good."

In internal memos, Roberts urged President Ronald Reagan to refrain from embracing any form of the proposed Equal Rights Amendment pending in Congress; he concluded that some state initiatives to curb workplace discrimination against women relied on legal tools that were "highly objectionable"; and he said that a controversial legal theory then in vogue -- of directing employers to pay women the same as men for jobs of "comparable worth" -- was "staggeringly pernicious" and "anti-capitalist."

In a July 31, 1985, memo, Roberts noted that, as an assistant dean at the University of Richmond law school before she joined the Reagan administration, Arey had "encouraged many former homemakers to enter law school and become lawyers." Roberts said in his memo that he saw no legal objection to her taking part in the Clairol contest. Then he added a personal aside: "Some might question whether encouraging homemakers to become lawyers contributes to the common good, but I suppose that is for the judges to decide."

Roberts' remark about homemakers becoming lawyers is obviously a joke, but the humorless Post breathlessly reports it as a stinging indictment of Roberts' sensitivity--never mind the fact that his wife is a lawyer herself. Roberts' writings are filled with brief forays into lawyer jokes, which are always funniest when told by lawyers. I, for one, find it refreshing to see that Roberts is a man whose impressive legal credentials have not diminished his ability to make light of his profession.

But the Post's snippy reporting continues. Not only do the writers report the quote as a serious remark, darkly suggesting that it provides some deep insight into Roberts' evil male soul, they then ask Kim Gandy, the president of the National Organization for Women, for her reaction: "Oh. Wow. Good heavens. I find it quite shocking that a young lawyer, as he was at the time, had such Neanderthal ideas about women's place."

Who knew NOW was so touchy about lawyer jokes? It was left to White House spokesman Steve Schmidt to explain that, uh, guys, it's called a joke. Happens all the time.

But what really makes the article's headline misleading and biased is its smugly liberal assumption that anything less than the wholesale adoption of NOW's agenda is to be against women's rights. Roberts wrote these memos during a time when feminist groups were demanding that the government force employers to pay their male and female employees equally for equal work. Now, I'm all for employers treating their employees fairly. But, like Judge Roberts, I don't see any constitutional support for forcing employers to abide by pay scales imposed by the government. I agree with the goal in principle, but not the Left's method of achieving it.

It seems clear to me that Roberts was writing not out of a sinister motivation to keep women underpaid, but out of the mindset that government should not be micromanaging the incomes of every employee in the nation. He showed admirable conservative restraint, a trait that speaks well of his judicial temperment and philosophy.

A more accurate headline would have been, "Roberts Resisted Government Takeover of Nation's Pay System," or "Roberts Resisted Expanding the Power of Government." But those headlines wouldn't have been nearly as inflammatory, or as helpful to the Post's goal of stirring up as much controversy as possible in these slow news weeks ahead of Roberts' confirmation hearings.

The End of Time by David Horowitz

Author David Horowitz is perhaps best known for changing his mind. An avowed Marxist during the 1960s and '70s, he was a leader of the radical student protests that railed against the establishment, the Vietnam War, and all authority in general. But when a close friend of his was murdered by the Black Panthers during the 1970s, it called into question everything he thought he knew. The soul-searching that followed transformed him from a hero of the Left to a leading conservative thinker and writer, and a reviled figure among his former ideological cohorts.

Decades later, Horowitz is still soul-searching, still questioning. In his latest book, The End of Time, he goes beyond politics to ponder--there is no other way to say it--the meaning of life. The spectre of imminent death focuses the mind like nothing else, he writes, as his recent battles with prostate cancer have made clear.

It is not a cheery read. Horowitz is a man of towering intellect, yet for all his brilliance, he cannot discern his own fate any more than an illiterate man can. Neither can politics, the human endeavor to which he has most devoted himself, provide any fulfillment. The fanatical drive to reshape the world--whether it be by the hand of the radical jihadist or the atheistic secularist--is the cause of untold suffering. Earthly politics, even if it is divinely inspired, cannot penetrate the dark recesses of the human heart.

Faced with these bleak conclusions, Horowitz finds a small measure of solace in the love of his young wife, April, although he fears that even she will be lost to him as the relentless march of time draws him ever closer to the abyss of death. She is a woman of faith, and she urges him to share in it, but he struggles to believe.

The End of Time mirrors the Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes in its grim tone and philosophical musings, but without its conclusion of fealty to a knowable, personal God. "The recognition of consequences," Horowitz writes, "is the beginning of wisdom." That is a maxim that holds as true for this world as it does for the next.

The Great Raid

During the last months of the Second World War in the Pacific, the fighting--which had always been ferocious--turned into a war of extermination, as the Japanese death cult forbade surrender. On islands all over the Pacific, the Japanese fought to the last man, exacting a terrible toll from American forces. Because of their fierce honor code, the Japanese dealth harshly with Allied prisoners of war, who they regarded as cowards. On the infamous Bataan Death March in 1942, the Japanese forced 70,000 American and Filipino captives to march hundreds of miles to the nearest POW camps. Thousands died due to disease, exhaustion, and dehydration. The survivors were herded into camps notorious for their brutality and inhumanity.

When American forces reurned to the Phillipines in 1944, the retreating Japanese ordered that all prisoners of war were to be killed. Over 150 American captives in one camp were forced into "bomb shelters," where they were doused with gasoline and set ablaze. Those who tried to escape were mowed down by machine gun fire.

The Americans were aware of the Japanese' barbaric prisoner of war policy, and were determined to rescue as many American captives as possible. A daring rescue operation was developed that would penetrate thirty miles into Japanese-held territory and free 500 American survivors of the Bataan Death March three years earlier.

This the premise of the new war film, The Great Raid, starring Benjamin Bratt and Joseph Fiennes. Bratt plays Lt. Col. Henry Mucci, the commander of the rescue operation. He and battalion of Army Rangers covertly meet up with Filipino resistance fighters, who aid in the attack on the Japanese camp of Cabanatuan.

The movie is divided into thirds, which all run concurrently. While Lt. Col. Mucci and his men attempt to avoid detection, the plight of the desperate men inside the camp is shown. The highest-ranking officer in the camp, Major Gibson, (Fiennes), must maintain some semblance of authority over the other prisoners, so that he can dissuade them from a hopeless escape attempt. His reasoning is starkly clear: For every one man found trying to escape, ten other prisoners will be shot. His task of holding the men together while still maintaining hope is made all the harder by a relapse of malaria, which leaves him bedridden.

The third subplot seems a bit contrived, as if the story editors were trying to cram as much drama as possible into a tale that needed no more. From Japanese-occupied Manilla, the underground resistance smuggles food and medicine to the prisoners at Cabanatuan. One member of the resistance is an American nurse (posing as an Lithuanian) whose motivation to aid the prisoners is very personal--she is in love with Major Gibson, but she is unsure if that love is returned. To protect her own life and the lives of her collegues, she must keep her true nationality concealed from the ever-watching eye of the Japanese secret police.

Due to all these subplots and detours, The Great Raid at times seems a bit unfocused. The acting is sometimes stiff, and the characters are woefully undeveloped. The film's intentions are noble, but almost everything about it--especially its romantic storyline--feels forced. The most moving scene is the footage of the actual POWs returning to a heroes' welcome back in America. That reminder of historical accuracy is the movie's most appealing and memorable trait.

The Cube and the Cathedral by George Weigel

As the European Union struggles to establish its bona fides as a world power in its own right, there is another battle underway--the battle to define Europe's history, and, consequently, its future. On one side of the debate stand those who place their faith in man, while the others place their faith in God. From that basic starting point, two radically divergent models for civil society emerge--one built on tolerance (or, more accurately, indifference), the other on private and public morality. In his new book, The Cube and the Cathedral, American Catholic theologian George Weigel lays out the case for a Europe that acknowledges Christianity's contributions to Western culture, rather than minimizing them, as the EU constitution seeks to do.

Mr. Weigel is at his best when he correctly identifies that many of Europe's current woes (dwindling birth rates, stagnating economies, disconnected and disillusioned populations) stem from a crisis of civilizational morale. Even while being pressed from the Muslim south, Europe seems unable to even define what Western civilization even is. The most heated public debates are not over how to best defend Western civilization, but whether it is worth defending at all. It is unknowable if the deep hostility toward Christianity leads to a rejection of traditional Western values--or if it's the other way around--but what is more clear is that the two schools of thought feed off each other to create a culture that is inherently narcissistic and unstable, and hardly a solid foundation for a civil society. As the French scholar Jean-Francois Revel has noted, "A civilization that feels guilty for everything it is and does will lack the energy and conviction to defend itself."

Because of the all the atrocities that have been committed in the name of God through the centuries, European (and American) secularists view religion as, at best, an outdated system of morality that bears little relevance to the modern world, and at worst, a dangerous superstition that enslaves men's minds and renders them unfit to have any influence on secular government. This deep suspicion of religion--and Christianity in particular--can already be seen in America, most notably when liberal Democrats thoroughly question conservative judicial nominees about their privately held religious views, and their willingness to uphold abortion rights, special rights for homosexuals, and all the other pillars of the modern secular temple. The religious litmus test first feared by the Founders has returned, but in a totally different form.

From an American strategic standpoint, Mr. Weigel quotes the eminent historian Donald Kagan, who writes that withdrawing America's umbrella of protection from over Europe would, by forcing the continent to face the harsh realities of international politics and security on its own, do much to squelch some of the secularists' more unrealistic utopian fantasies. Europeans have been able to live in an inconsequential "posthistory," Kagan writes, precisely because Americans have remained firmly grounded in real history. Treating Europe as an equal partner in defense and foreign policy matters may motivate it to become more responsible, and less prone to idle delusions of grandeur. This strategy, of course, is based on the assumption that Europe is willing to be an equal partner with America, which is not at all clear.

The most noticeable flaw of the book is that Mr. Weigel does not spend much time explaining the arguments of European secularists; instead, he focuses on the Catholic church's goal of a revitalized Europe that respects the public role of religion as an equal to secularism. While I agree with this conclusion, the book could have been more convincing had it more carefully examined the historical and philosophical basis for state-enforced secularism. Mr. Weigel also tends to gloss over the crimes committed by the Catholic church over the centuries; crimes that, in no small measure, directly led to the secular backlash that begun in the 18th century and continues to this day. A more thorough searching of the roots of secular humanism may provide a useful lesson for a church seeking to atone for the excesses of the past.

But this is only a minor quibble. Mr. Weigel has written an important and much-needed book for both sides of the Atlantic. Culturally and philosophically, America tends to follow a few decades behind Europe, but in some ways, we are already seeing the early signs of the crisis of civilizational morale that has crippled Europe, and left it seemingly unable to rouse itself, even in the face of an energetic external enemy. As Mr. Weigel's well-written book makes clear, if there were ever a time when the West needed to be firmly rooted in its rich, unique heritage, that time is now.

Collateral

It is a rare movie these days that can move beyond the medium's obvious entertainment appeal and prompt one to think long and hard on the deeper issues of life. Last year's Collateral, starring Tom Cruise and Jamie Foxx, is such a film.

Foxx plays Max, a Los Angeles cab driver who dreams of something better, but his ambition is not matched by his determination. And so he fills his days ferrying busy professionals around the city, charming them with his homespun wisdom and shortcuts. When he first steps into Max's cab late one night at the airport, Vincent (Cruise) appears to be just another businessman who needs a ride to just another meeting.

But Vincent's business is death. This is revealed in dramatic fashion, as Vincent's first "business meeting" ends in a body falling several stories and crashing onto Max's cab. Max pleads with Vincent to take the cab, but Vincent's pointed gun can be persuasive: He has several more stops to make, and he needs a driver. Thus begins an strange, surreal odyssey into the urban night, a place populated by crime lords, federal agents, and curious detectives.

Vincent is an intriguing character--a man who is at once engaging and frightening. His occasional pleasantness masks a deep inner sadism that, when it appears, makes the contrast even more striking, and tragic. Like Max, the audience is only left to wonder: What motivates Vincent? What could possibly drive a man into such hopeless nihilism?

While watching Collateral, I was reminded of the writings of the 19th-century American Romantic philosopher, David Thoreau. During the times of tumultuous change brought on by the Industrial Revolution, when urban centers expanded and the poor flooded into the dirty streets in search of work, Thoreau lamented the corrosive effect that city life had on the soul. How ironic it is, he noted, that when people are working and living in the closest possible quarters, it is then that they are most isolated from each other. Such men walk about in "quiet desperation," he famously wrote, living lives devoid of any meaningful existence.

These dark themes linger below the surface of the film, never far, and yet rarely voiced. While the cinematography and sprawling urban backgroups give Collateral an ultramodern, almost sci-fi feel, there is a sense that for all his trappings of civilization and urban sophistication, man is not far removed from his violent, tribal past--that is, if there is any remove at all. Humanity's tenuous grip on civilization is artfully alluded to during a scene in which Vincent and Max stop at a red light. After Vincent mocks Max for his concern for the thugs Vincent has been hired to kill, a coyote darts across the street, serving as a silent reminder than beneath the veneer of civilization lies a darker side of human nature, one that is barely controlled, but always present.

The finale is both suspenseful and melancholy, as a character we barely knew dies alone on a deserted metro train, wondering in his final breath how long it will take for the city's jaded commuters to notice his dead body. And that, in the end, is what Collateral is all about: A cry for meaning, a plea to be noticed, in a world that seems too busy to stop and care.

But we know that there is One who cares, and can give us meaning.

Democratic Logic at its Finest

President Bush today installed John Bolton as the US ambassador to the UN. The President has the power to make such appointments without the consent of the Senate, if Congress is on recess. Bolton's nomination had been blocked by Senate Democrats on the grounds that he is a big meanie head who can't be trusted to play nicely with all the third-world despots in the General Assembly.

Not surprisingly, vacationing Democratic senators reacted with outrage. "The abuse of power and the cloak of secrecy from the White House continues," Ted Kennedy thundered. "It's a devious maneuver that evades the constitutional requirement of Senate consent and only further darkens the cloud over Mr. Bolton's credibility at the U.N."

An abuse of power? A devious maneuver that evades the constitutional requirement of Senate consent? Hmm...sounds like Senator Kennedy is perfectly describing the Democratic strategy of filibustering and obstruction that led to Bolton's recess appointment in the first place. The Democrats would not allow the full Senate to vote on Bolton's nomination, because they know they would have lost it.

Some say Bolton's historic distaste for the UN make him unfit to represent the US there. In an editorial just after Bolton's original nomination, the New York Times asked plaintively, "What's next? Donald Rumsfeld to negotiate a new set of Geneva conventions? Martha Stewart to run the Securities and Exchange Commission?" As always, Mark Steyn provides some much-needed perspective:

Okay, I get the hang of this game. Sending John Bolton to be UN ambassador is like ...putting Sudan and Zimbabwe on the Human Rights Commission. Or letting Saddam’s Iraq chair the UN conference on disarmament. Or sending a bunch of child-sex fiends to man UN operations in the Congo. And the Central African Republic. And Sierra Leone, and Burundi, Liberia, Haiti, Kosovo, and pretty much everywhere else. All of which happened without the UN fetishists running around shrieking hysterically. Why should America be the only country not to enjoy an uproarious joke at the UN’s expense?

Elsewhere in the wacky world of Democratic soundbites, DNC Chairman Howard Dean recently weighed in on the outrageous Supreme Court emiment domain decision thusly: "The president and his right-wing Supreme Court think it is okay to have the government take your house if they feel like putting a hotel where your house is."

There is a good example of the incisive, hard-hitting analysis we've come to expect from the failed presidential candidate of 2004. First, Dean called the court "Bush's right-wing court," even though none of the justices who handed down the Kelo decision were appointed by Bush. Second, Dean seems to be a bit confused as to who concurred with the ruling; the court's "right-wingers" (Scalia, Thomas, and Rehnquist) were joined by O'Connor in dissenting from the ruling. It was the court's liberal wing that abused the emiment domain clause--judges who Dean holds up as model justices for future appointments.

But other than those small little details, Dean made a great point.