You, so concerned with your legacy, should cringe. Instead of being remembered proudly as the first African American President, one who changed the domestic political zeitgeist away from the prevailing conservativism of the prior forty years, you will be remembered as the one who finished shredding the first amendment for the war against an adjec...adver...er ah...whatever.
Not the liberal who boldly nationalised the auto industry, who sorta-kinda-almost boldly championed a weakened, privatised version of national healthcare reform, who raised tax rates on the wealthy for the first time in a generation, who, against historical partisan opposition did better manage to mitigate the worst effects of austerity during a deep recession than an "enlightened" Western Europe, which dove headlong into triple dip territory.
Yes, you will certainly be remembered for your skin pigmentation.
And your wall of secrecy.
Less than a present day Lincoln, you are beginning to remind me of a postmodern Johnson.
Johnson spoke often about wanting to be the "president of all the people." He had great skill in crafting decisions that offered up something for everyone. In Vietnam increased bombing raids were conducted to appease the "hawks," while gradual troop increases and intermittent efforts at negotiation were touted to please the "doves." Johnson's efforts at consensus building on Vietnam often meant avoiding the more difficult decisions inherent in leadership positions.
If the record of Lyndon Johnson's presidency were to end in 1965, his would surely be ranked among our nation's finest. Thrust into the role of Chief Executive on that tragic day in Dallas in November 1963, Johnson reassured an emotionally devastated public by pledging to honor, and build upon, the legacy of his slain predecessor -- "John Kennedy's death commands what his life conveyed -- that America must move forward." Johnson did indeed move forward, presenting a program of domestic reforms originally crafted in the mold of the New Deal and imbued with the vigor of the New Frontier. By 1965, Johnson had devised and signed into law more than 200 pieces of major legislation, including a sizable tax cut, a billion dollar anti-poverty program, and a groundbreaking civil rights bill. But the promises of his Great Society were swallowed up in the quagmire of Vietnam.
The boldness with which Johnson moved on the domestic front was undermined by his own hesitance and duplicity concerning Vietnam. By March 1968 a Gallup poll recorded that only 26 percent of the American people approved of his handling of the war. Most damaging to the man and to the presidency itself was the opening up of a "credibility gap." Lyndon Johnson, who had done so much to fulfill the idealism of the Kennedy era, was blamed for ushering in an era of increased public cynicism toward official Washington.</blockquote>
Wake the fock up,
A common thread that runs through many of the American foreign-policy misadventures of the last couple of generations—the overthrow of Mossadegh in Iran and of Allende in Chile, the Bay of Pigs fiasco, the Vietnam War, the Iran-Contra debacle, the catastrophic Iraq war that was launched ten years ago this week, the torture scandal—is the manipulation of secrecy, deceit, and unchecked executive power. The Obama Administration’s so-far-unaccountable drone war may never rival the damage of any of those. But isn’t it bad enough that it has somehow managed to cast Rand Paul—who would abrogate the American social contract, consolidate the country’s transformation into a merciless plutocracy, and destroy the global power of the United States not just for ill but, in both senses, for good—as the conscience of a nation and the hero of its enlightened youth?