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  • World View
    Nov 1, 2004
      by John Pilger*

      May last, the US House of Representatives passed a resolution which,
      in effect, authorised a "pre-emptive" attack on Iran. The vote was
      376-3. Undeterred by the accelerating disaster in Iraq, Republicans
      and Democrats, wrote one commentator, "once again joined hands to
      assert the responsibilities of American power."

      The joining of hands across America's illusory political divide has a
      long history. The Native Americans were slaughtered, the Philippines
      laid to waste and Cuba and much of Latin America brought to heel
      with "bi-partisan" backing.

      Wading through the blood, a new breed of popular historian, the
      journalist in the pay of rich newspaper owners, spun the heroic myths
      of a supersect called Americanism, which advertising and public
      relations in the 20th century formalised as an ideology, embracing
      both conservatism and liberalism.

      In the modern era, most of America's wars have been launched by
      liberal Democratic presidents - Harry Truman in Korea, John F Kennedy
      and Lyndon B Johnson in Vietnam, Jimmy Carter in Afghanistan. The
      fictitious "missile gap" was invented by Kennedy's liberal New
      Frontiersmen as a rationale for keeping the cold war going.

      In 1964, a Democrat-dominated Congress gave President Johnson
      authority to attack Vietnam, a defenceless peasant nation offering no
      threat to the United States. Like the non-existent WMDs in Iraq, the
      justification was a non-existent "incident" in which, it was said,
      two North Vietnamese patrol boats had attacked an American warship.
      More than three million deaths and the ruin of a once bountiful land

      During the past 60 years, only once has Congress voted to limit the
      president's "right" to terrorise other countries. This aberration,
      the Clark Amendment 1975, a product of the great anti-Vietnam war
      movement, was repealed in 1985 by Ronald Reagan. During Reagan's
      assaults on Central America in the 1980s, liberal voices such as Tom
      Wicker of the New York Times, doyen of the "doves," seriously debated
      whether or not tiny, impoverished Nicaragua was a threat to the
      United States.

      These days, terrorism having replaced the red menace, another fake
      debate is under way. This is lesser evilism. Although few liberal-
      minded voters seem to have illusions about John Kerry, their need to
      get rid of the "rogue" Bush administration is all-consuming.
      Representing them in Britain, the Guardian says that the coming
      presidential election is "exceptional." "Mr Kerry's flaws and
      limitations are evident," says the paper, "but they are put in the
      shade by the neo-conservative agenda and catastrophic war-making of
      Mr Bush. This is an election in which almost the whole world will
      breathe a sigh of relief if the incumbent is defeated."

      The whole world may well breathe a sigh of relief: the Bush regime is
      both dangerous and universally loathed; but that is not the point. We
      have debated lesser evilism so often on both sides of the Atlantic
      that it is surely time to stop gesturing at the obvious and to
      examine critically a system that produces the Bushes and their
      democratic shadows. For those of us who marvel at our luck in
      reaching mature years without having been blown to bits by the
      warlords of Americanism, Republican and Democrat, conservative and
      liberal, and for the millions all over the world who now reject the
      American contagion in political life, the true issue is clear.

      It is the continuation of a project that began more than 500 years
      ago. The privileges of "discovery and conquest" granted to
      Christopher Columbus in 1492, in a world the pope considered "his
      property to be disposed according to his will," have been replaced by
      another piracy transformed into the divine will of Americanism and
      sustained by technological progress, notably that of the media.

      "The threat to independence in the late 20th century from the new
      electronics," wrote Edward Said in Culture and Imperialism, "could be
      greater than was colonialism itself. We are beginning to learn that
      de-colonisation was not the termination of imperial relationships but
      merely the extending of a geopolitical web which has been spinning
      since the Renaissance. The new media have the power to penetrate more
      deeply into a 'receiving' culture than any previous manifestation of
      western technology."

      Every modern president has been, in large part, a media creation.
      Thus, the murderous Reagan is sanctified still; Rupert Murdoch's Fox
      Channel and the post-Hutton BBC have differed only in their forms of
      adulation. And Bill Clinton is regarded nostalgically by liberals as
      flawed but enlightened;
      yet Clinton's presidential years were far more violent than Bush's
      and his goals were the same: "the integration of countries into the
      global free-market community," the terms of which, noted the New York
      Times, "require the United States to be involved in the plumbing and
      wiring of nations' internal affairs more deeply than ever before."

      The Pentagon's "full-spectrum dominance" was not the product of
      the "neo-cons" but of the liberal Clinton, who approved what was then
      the greatest war expenditure in history. According to the Guardian,
      Clinton's heir, John Kerry, sends us "energising progressive calls."

      It is time to stop this nonsense.

      Supremacy is the essence of Americanism; only the veil changes or
      slips. In 1976, the Democrat Jimmy Carter announced "a foreign policy
      that respects human rights." In secret, he backed Indonesia's
      genocide in East Timor and established the mujahedin in Afghanistan
      as a terrorist organisation designed to overthrow the Soviet Union,
      and from which came the Taliban and al-Qaeda. It was the liberal
      Carter, not Reagan, who laid the ground for George W Bush.

      In the past year, I have interviewed Carter's principal foreign
      policy overlords "Zbigniew Brzezinski, his national security adviser,
      and James Schlesinger, his defence secretary. No blueprint for the
      new imperialism is more respected than Brzezinski's. Invested with
      biblical authority by the Bush gang, his 1997 book The Grand
      Chessboard: American Primacy and Its Geo-strategic Imperatives
      describes American priorities as the economic subjugation of the
      Soviet Union and the control of central Asia and the Middle East.

      His analysis says that "local wars" are merely the beginning of a
      final conflict leading inexorably to world domination by the US. "To
      put it in a terminology that harkens back to a more brutal age of
      ancient empires," he writes, "the three grand imperatives of imperial
      geo-strategy are to prevent collusion and maintain security
      dependence among the vassals, to keep tributaries pliant and
      protected, and to keep the barbarians from coming together."

      It may have been easy once to dismiss this as a message from the
      lunar right. But Brzezinski is mainstream. His devoted students
      include Madeleine Albright, who, as secretary of state under Clinton,
      described the death of half a million infants in Iraq during the US-
      led embargo as "a price worth paying," and John Negroponte, the
      mastermind of American terror in central America under Reagan who is
      currently "ambassador" in Baghdad. James Rubin, who was Albright's
      enthusiastic apologist at the State Department, is being considered
      as John Kerry's national security adviser. He is also a Zionist;
      Israel's role as a terror state is beyond discussion.

      Cast an eye over the rest of the world. As Iraq has crowded the front
      pages, American moves into Africa have attracted little attention.
      Here, the Clinton and Bush policies are seamless. In the 1990s,
      Clinton's African Growth and Opportunity Act launched a new scramble
      for Africa. Humanitarian bombers wonder why Bush and Blair have not
      attacked Sudan and "liberated" Darfur, or intervened in Zimbabwe or
      the Congo.

      The answer is that they have no interest in human distress and human
      rights, and are busy securing the same riches that led to the
      European scramble in the late 19th century by the traditional means
      of coercion and bribery, known as multilateralism.

      The Congo and Zambia possess 50 per cent of world cobalt reserves; 98
      per cent of the world's chrome reserves are in Zimbabwe and South
      Africa. More importantly, there is oil and natural gas in Africa from
      Nigeria to Angola, and in Higleig, south-west Sudan. Under Clinton,
      the African Crisis Response Initiative (Acri) was set up in secret.
      This has allowed the US to establish "military assistance programmes"
      in Senegal, Uganda, Malawi, Ghana, Benin, Algeria, Niger, Mali and

      Acri is run by Colonel Nestor Pino-Marina, a Cuban exile who took
      part in the 1961 Bay of Pigs landing and went on to be a special
      forces officer in Vietnam and Laos, and who, under Reagan, helped
      lead the Contra invasion of Nicaragua.

      The pedigrees never change.

      None of this is discussed in a presidential campaign in which John
      Kerry strains to out-Bush Bush. The multi-lateralism or "muscular
      internationalism" that Kerry offers in contrast to Bush's uni-
      lateralism is seen as hopeful by the terminally naive; in truth, it
      beckons even greater dangers. Having given the American elite its
      greatest disaster since Vietnam, writes the historian Gabriel Kolko,
      Bush "is much more likely to continue the destruction of the alliance
      system that is so crucial to American power. One does not have to
      believe the worse the better, but we have to consider candidly the
      foreign policy consequences of a renewal of Bush's mandate . . . As
      dangerous as it is, Bush's re-election may be a lesser evil."

      With Nato back in train under President Kerry, and the French and
      Germans compliant, American ambitions will proceed without the
      Napoleonic hindrances of the Bush gang.

      Little of this appears even in the American papers worth reading. The
      Washington Post's hand-wringing apology to its readers on 14 August
      for not "pay[ing] enough attention to voices raising questions about
      the war [against Iraq]" has not interrupted its silence on the danger
      that the American state presents to the world.

      Bush's rating has risen in the polls to more than 50 per cent, a
      level at this stage in the campaign at which no incumbent has ever
      lost. The virtues of his "plain speaking," which the entire media
      machine promoted four years ago "Fox and the Washington Post alike"
      are again credited. As in the aftermath of the 11 September attacks,
      Americans are denied a modicum of understanding of what Norman Mailer
      has called "a pre-fascist climate." The fears of the rest of us are
      of no consequence.

      The professional liberals on both sides of the Atlantic have played a
      major part in this. The campaign against Michael Moore's Fahrenheit
      9/11 is indicative. The film is not radical and makes no outlandish
      claims; what it does is push past those guarding the boundaries
      of "respectable" dissent. That is why the public applauds it. It
      breaks the collusive codes of journalism, which it shames. It allows
      people to begin to deconstruct the nightly propaganda that passes for
      news: in which "a sovereign Iraqi government pursues democracy" and
      those fighting in Najaf and Fallujah and Basra are always "militants"
      and "insurgents" or members of a "private army," never nationalists
      defending their homeland and whose resistance has probably
      forestalled attacks on Iran, Syria or North Korea.

      The real debate is neither Bush nor Kerry, but the system they
      exemplify; it is the decline of true democracy and the rise of the
      American "national security state" in Britain and other countries
      claiming to be democracies, in which people are sent to prison and
      the key thrown away and whose leaders commit capital crimes in
      faraway places, unhindered, and then, like the ruthless Blair, invite
      the thug they install to address the Labour Party conference.

      The real debate is the subjugation of national economies to a system
      which divides humanity as never before and sustains the deaths, every
      day, of 24,000 hungry people. The real debate is the subversion of
      political language and of debate itself and perhaps, in the end, our

      [John Pilger was born and educated in Sydney, Australia. He has been
      a war correspondent, filmmaker and playwright. Based in London, he
      has written from many countries and has twice won British
      journalism's highest award, that of "Journalist of the Year," for his
      work in Vietnam and Cambodia. This article was first published in the
      New Statesman. (c) John Pilger 2004 - 21 August 2004]



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