April
April is often, I’ve noticed, the busiest month. A host of meetings, conventions and annual dinners are scheduled then, school’s still in, and this year we have the presidential campaign going strong. Now in my book busy is good—better than the alternative! But I’ll admit to being pretty zonked by Sunday night, as I write this. So please forgive horrible errors, terrible formulations, poor judgments and the like.
I spoke Monday evening at a D.C. Republican gathering at a beautiful house in Georgetown. I spend very little time in Georgetown—few of our friends and, I think, none of my colleagues happen to live there, the restaurants and events we go to tend to be in downtown Washington, etc.—but it did occur to me, standing and speaking in the very pleasant and spacious back yard of an elegant old house, that at the moment I probably seemed a caricature of that dreaded figure, the D.C. insider. Oh well, so be it. On the other hand, the guests weren’t on the whole Georgetown muckety-mucks but were actually on the young side, residing in various other hip parts of D.C. with which I’m equally unfamiliar. Most of the D.C. delegates (committed for the first ballot either to Rubio and Kasich) were there, excited at the part they might play in further rounds of voting, and we discussed the chance they might have actually to help select the nominee. Overall, the conversation was gratifyingly upbeat for the future, even if concerned about the present. That’s a phenomenon I’ve noticed more broadly—you look at the Republican Party, with its young senators, congressmen and governors, and think, conservatism is alive and well. Then you look at the presidential race . . .
On Tuesday evening, I served as master of ceremonies at the 40th anniversary dinner of the Ethics and Public Policy Center. It’s a great think tank, and my role, to praise it and keep the dinner moving, was an easy one. It was great to see and talk with lots of friends, allies and comrades (to use a term that’s come back to life with the Bernie Sanders campaign)—and to reflect on the fact, too easily forgotten today, that American conservatism (which came to include, over the past 50 years or so, most of the healthy parts of American liberalism) has a lot to be proud of. EPPC has been a big part of that, and is a big part of any conservative future.
On Wednesday, I spent the day in New York at a board meeting. My colleagues wanted to know: WHAT IS GOING ON WITH THE REPUBLICAN PARTY? Good question.
On Thursday evening and during the day Friday, I met with some political types who had come to town and are engaged in trying to lay the groundwork for a possible independent bid in case Trump is the nominee. Cone of silence and all that, but interesting . . .
On Friday and Saturday nights, we hosted and attended family Passover seders. Passover is the Jewish holiday that’s both the most family-oriented—the central celebration is in the home, not the synagogue—and the most political, with its emphasis on political freedom. Really a highlight of the year.
And on Sunday I did ABC’s This Week with George Stephanopoulos, with (I thought) a couple of interesting roundtables (you can watch them here). Here too is a link to a discussion filmed after the show for ABC’s Facebook page.
I’m looking forward to a few relatively peaceful days in the office this week, and then we’re off to our annual event at the Broadmoor in Colorado Springs, where I’ll certainly chip in on the panels, and will enjoy the socializing. But fortunately I’ll be able to leave it to colleagues like Steve Hayes and Charles Krauthammer to do a lot of the heavy thinking. For my part, I look forward to talking with those of you who have the chance to be there, to enjoying the beautiful grounds and facilities, to reflecting on the Decline of the West . . . and to napping.
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Shakespeare and Trump
Last week, I announced a competition in honor of the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare’s death, on April 23, 1616. The competition is, needless to say, a mere addendum, a minor complement, a negligible appendage to the main TWS commemoration of Shakespeare—Paul Cantor’s terrific cover piece in the new issue, “Against Chivalry“. So before getting to the competition’s results, I’d be remiss if I didn’t urge you not merely to read Cantor’s article, but also to go to the Great Thinkers website on Shakespeare, curated by Cantor, for guidance to further reading.
But as to the competition: I asked, “What lines of Shakespeare best characterize Donald Trump?” I stipulated that you’d get no credit for comparing Trump’s campaign to “a tale/Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,/Signifying nothing.” (Macbeth Act V Scene v) That one was just too obvious.
What did you all come up with? Lots of apt Shakespearean descriptions for Trump’s campaign or the man himself. I feel I’ve done a good deed in enticing many of you back to Shakespeare (if you’d ever been away). In any case, here are a few apt and brief contributions (after all, “brevity is the soul of wit“).
Regarding the outcome of New York’s primary (and probably tomorrow’s contests as well):
“Lord, what fools these mortals be!” (A Midsummer Night’s Dream Act 3 Scene ii)
Regarding Trump’s disparagement of John McCain and other POW’s:
“He jests at scars that never felt a wound.” (Romeo and Juliet Act II Scene ii)
Regarding Trump himself:
“An infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise breaker, the owner of no one good quality.” (All’s Well That Ends Well Act III Scene vi)
And:
“The empty vessel makes the greatest sound.” (Henry V, Act IV Scene iv)
And:
“Masters, do not forget to specify, when time and place shall serve, that I am an ass.” (Much Ado About Nothing Act V Scene i)
And regarding the appropriate response to Trump:
“Never, never, never, never, never!” (King Lear V iii)
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Excellence
As I look at Trump, and so much else in today’s America, two sentences from Leo Strauss keep coming to mind:
“It is safer to try to understand the low in the light of the high than the high in the light of the low. In doing the latter one necessarily distorts the high, whereas in doing the former one does not deprive the low of the freedom to reveal itself fully as what it is.”
And:
“We have no higher duty, and no more pressing duty, than to remind ourselves and our students, of political greatness, human greatness, of the peaks of human excellence.”
This is one reason we’re so pleased to publish a piece like Cantor’s on Shakespeare and Cervantes. It’s just a few pages in our magazine, and a minor contribution to an overall appreciation of Shakespeare’s and Cervantes’s greatness. But we try to do our small part, without preaching or excessive moralizing, to encourage at least the occasional looking up to excellence rather than the dragging down to the low.
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More Kasparov!
Speaking of excellence, Garry Kasparov embodied excellence as a chess champion. He’s also an impressive thinker about politics. The first conversation I had with him was, I thought, particularly interesting and informative, so I asked him to engage in a second. He did, just a couple of weeks ago in New York, and here it is. In this conversation, Kasparov discusses Russian and American politics since the end of the Cold War, and offers fascinating insights into the rise and rule of Vladimir Putin. (I think Kasparov’s distinction between chess playing and poker playing as a model for understanding politics really deserves a place in political science texts.) Now living in the U.S., Kasparov also discusses America—its inherent strengths and challenges. I trust you’ll find it worth the time. And then—get back to Shakespeare!
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Onward!
Bill Kristol
