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I know that I know that Rummy's my hero
by Stephen Pollard
Forget the usual faux pas. Ignore the standard forms of social death. I used to think that I had only one way of guaranteeing that I could stun anyone into horrified silence: telling them that I think we would all be safer if we could carry guns.
But over the past few months I have discovered a far more potent weapon of public self-destruction. I tell people that Donald Rumsfeld is my political hero.
The reaction is always — always — the same. First there is a belly laugh. Then that turns into a nervous giggle as they notice that I am not laughing with them. The giggle then dries up into a two or three-second silence, and the colour drains from their cheeks. If they are sitting down, they put their head in their hands; if they are standing, they freeze. And then they say it: “Oh. My. God. Are you being serious?”
I am, indeed. Let me spell it out for you, in case you think that I am joking. The American Defence Secretary is my hero.
What makes people’s reaction so bizarre is that, whatever the attributes for which most of us look in a politician, Donald Rumsfeld has them all. He always says exactly what he means. He tells it as he sees it. He has decades of experience in the real world. He is witty. He is imaginative. He thinks for himself. He inspires loyalty. Even better, he is prepared to stand up for his beliefs and treat the smug superiority of the trimmers, appeasers and Euro-elites with the contempt that they deserve. What more could one want in a politician?
Ah yes, I have just remembered one other thing that you would want in a politician: he is right. Always.
And that is the root of it, of course. The real reason why Rummy inspires such contempt among bien pensant types is that they cannot bear the thought that he is right. They loathe him because the that fact he is right boomerangs back at them all their self-righteous, haughty, “Americans are so coarse” complacent beliefs.
Donald Rumsfeld is the living, breathing proof that they are wrong.
I know exactly what would have happened if the war plan — Rumsfeld’s war plan, as we were so frequently told when the doom-mongers thought that it was all going wrong, but which in victory is, of course, now Tommy Franks’s — had turned out to be a huge mistake. He would have been endlessly pilloried. It was barely a week ago, after all, that we were told by supposedly well-informed experts that Rumsfeld and his associates were for the highest of high jumps. But because everyone loves a loser, in ten years or so he would have been the beneficiary of the Tony Benn effect: we would look back and chuckle at his remarks — batty, of course, but dontcha just luvim?
“As we know, there are known knowns,” as Rumsfeld said. “There are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns. That is to say we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns, the ones we don't know we don't know.”
Benn is loved precisely because he is wrong. If he had been right about anything, he would not be cuddly tea-drinker of the year, he would be “hard man of the Left”.
Donald Rumsfeld suffers from a critical impediment: he is right. He was right about “shock and awe”. He was right about his war plan. He was right about coalition troops being hailed as liberators. He was right about old and new Europe. He was right about. . . oh, take your pick.
That is the thing about Donald Rumsfeld: he is right, you are wrong and you are just going to have come to terms with it.
Stephen Pollard is a senior fellow at the Centre for the New Europe, in Brussels
by Stephen Pollard
Forget the usual faux pas. Ignore the standard forms of social death. I used to think that I had only one way of guaranteeing that I could stun anyone into horrified silence: telling them that I think we would all be safer if we could carry guns.
But over the past few months I have discovered a far more potent weapon of public self-destruction. I tell people that Donald Rumsfeld is my political hero.
The reaction is always — always — the same. First there is a belly laugh. Then that turns into a nervous giggle as they notice that I am not laughing with them. The giggle then dries up into a two or three-second silence, and the colour drains from their cheeks. If they are sitting down, they put their head in their hands; if they are standing, they freeze. And then they say it: “Oh. My. God. Are you being serious?”
I am, indeed. Let me spell it out for you, in case you think that I am joking. The American Defence Secretary is my hero.
What makes people’s reaction so bizarre is that, whatever the attributes for which most of us look in a politician, Donald Rumsfeld has them all. He always says exactly what he means. He tells it as he sees it. He has decades of experience in the real world. He is witty. He is imaginative. He thinks for himself. He inspires loyalty. Even better, he is prepared to stand up for his beliefs and treat the smug superiority of the trimmers, appeasers and Euro-elites with the contempt that they deserve. What more could one want in a politician?
Ah yes, I have just remembered one other thing that you would want in a politician: he is right. Always.
And that is the root of it, of course. The real reason why Rummy inspires such contempt among bien pensant types is that they cannot bear the thought that he is right. They loathe him because the that fact he is right boomerangs back at them all their self-righteous, haughty, “Americans are so coarse” complacent beliefs.
Donald Rumsfeld is the living, breathing proof that they are wrong.
I know exactly what would have happened if the war plan — Rumsfeld’s war plan, as we were so frequently told when the doom-mongers thought that it was all going wrong, but which in victory is, of course, now Tommy Franks’s — had turned out to be a huge mistake. He would have been endlessly pilloried. It was barely a week ago, after all, that we were told by supposedly well-informed experts that Rumsfeld and his associates were for the highest of high jumps. But because everyone loves a loser, in ten years or so he would have been the beneficiary of the Tony Benn effect: we would look back and chuckle at his remarks — batty, of course, but dontcha just luvim?
“As we know, there are known knowns,” as Rumsfeld said. “There are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns. That is to say we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns, the ones we don't know we don't know.”
Benn is loved precisely because he is wrong. If he had been right about anything, he would not be cuddly tea-drinker of the year, he would be “hard man of the Left”.
Donald Rumsfeld suffers from a critical impediment: he is right. He was right about “shock and awe”. He was right about his war plan. He was right about coalition troops being hailed as liberators. He was right about old and new Europe. He was right about. . . oh, take your pick.
That is the thing about Donald Rumsfeld: he is right, you are wrong and you are just going to have come to terms with it.
Stephen Pollard is a senior fellow at the Centre for the New Europe, in Brussels
I've been torn in my view of Rumsfeld for some time now. I tend to be closer to Powell in my political views, so Rumsfeld is supposed to be my natural enemy. I could never hate him, however; in fact, I found myself liking him more and more as time went on. Now I know why. He does represent everything that I want out of a leader. He's intelligent, dynamic, humorous and brutally honest. And he is right, even when I wish that he wasn't.
I've come to terms with my love for Rummy. Can you? Just admit the man into your heart and your world will become a better place...
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