[Congressional Record Volume 144, Number 98 (Tuesday, July 21, 1998)]
[House]
[Pages H5963-H5965]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
URGING MEMBERS TO STUDY THE ARTICLE ``STATESMANSHIP AND ITS BETRAYAL''
The SPEAKER pro tempore. Under the Speaker's announced policy of
January 21, 1997, the gentleman from Georgia (Mr. Barr) is recognized
during morning hour debates for 5 minutes.
Mr. BARR of Georgia. Mr. Speaker, very infrequently I come across an
article written by a person that rises so far above and beyond the
normal, mundane literature we read daily in newspapers and see and hear
visually and
[[Page H5964]]
verbally on television that it bears special attention.
I rise today to share with my colleagues an article which appeared in
the Wall Street Journal on July 2 by Mark Helprin entitled
``Statesmanship and Its Betrayal.''
Mr. Speaker, I will read just a few eloquent passages of Mr.
Helprin's exposition on statesmanship, and then urge all of my
colleagues, indeed, all who peruse the Congressional Record, to do
likewise.
He speaks, in part, as follows:
We had men of integrity and genius: Washington, Hamilton,
Franklin, Jefferson, Madison, and Monroe. These were men who
were in love with principle as if it were an art, which, in
their practice, they made it. They studied empires that had
fallen, for the sake of doing what was right in a small
country that had barely risen, and were able to see things so
clearly that they surpassed in greatness each and every one
of the classical models that they had approached in awe.
Now. . . when we desperately need their high qualities of
thought, their patience for deliberation, and their unerring
sense of balance, we have only what we have.
Which is a political class that in the main has abandoned
the essential qualities of statesmanship, with the excuse
that these are inappropriate to our age. They are wrong. Not
only do they fail to honor the principles of statesmanship,
they fail to recognize them, having failed to learn them,
having failed to have wanted to learn them.
In the main, they are in it for themselves. This
constitutes not merely a failure, but a betrayal, and not
only of statesmanship and principle, but of country and kin.
And why is that? It is because things matter. Even though
it be played like a game, by men who excel at making it a
game, our life in this country, our history in this country,
the sacrifices that have been made for this country, the
lives that have been given to this country, are not a game.
My life is not a game. My children's lives are not a game. My
parents' lives were not a game. Your life is not a game.
Yes, it is true, we do have great accumulated stores of
power and wealth and decency--against which those who pretend
to lead us can draw when as a result of their vanity and
ineptitude they waste and expend the gifts of previous
generations. The margin of error bequeathed to them allows
them to present their failures as successes.
They say, ``As we are still standing, and a chicken is in
the pot, what does it matter if I break the links between
action and consequence, work and reward, crime and
punishment, merit and advancement?'' I myself cannot imagine
a military threat (and never could), so what does it matter
if I weld shut the silo hatches on our ballistic missile
submarines? What does it matter if I weld shut my eyes to
weapons of mass destruction in the hands of lunatics who are
building long-range missiles? Our jurisprudence is the envy
of the world, so what does it matter if now and then I
perjure myself, a little? What is an oath? What is a pledge?
What is a sacred trust? Are not these things the province of
the kinds of people who were foolish enough to do without all
their lives, to wear the ruts into the Oregon Trail, to brave
the seas, to die on the beaches of Normandy and Iwo Jima and
on the battlefields of Shiloh and Antietam, for me, so that I
can draw from America's great accounts, and look good, and be
presidential, and have fun, in all kinds of ways?
Mr. Speaker, Mr. Helprin goes on at some length to use words that
conjure up, as few in American history, perhaps only most recently
President Reagan could, to reach down into the soul of America, to
remind us once again, we are and were and should and must be a Nation
of principle, personified by statesmen, not crass political leaders
looking only for themselves, only for today, and forgetting not only
the great history of an America past, but looking forward to a great
history of America future.
I commend Mark Helprin's article, which appeared in the Wall Street
Journal on July 2 of this year, entitled ``Statesmanship and Its
Betrayal,'' to be read and reread by my colleagues and by every
American who cares about this great country, its history, and its
future.
The article referred to is as follows:
Statesmanship and Its Betrayal
(By Mark Helprin)
When Marco Polo entered Xanadu, the capital of the Great
Khan, he crossed ring after ring of outer city, each more
splendid and interesting than the one that had come before.
He was used to greatness of scale, having traveled to the
limits of the ordered world and then twice as far into the
unknown, where no European had ever set foot, over the Hindu
Kush and beyond the Pamir, and through the immense empty
deserts of Central Asia. And yet after passing through the
world's most ethereal regions he was impressed above all by
Xanadu, a city of seemingly infinite expanse, the end of
which he could not see no matter in which direction he
looked.
For almost 1,000 years, this city floated at the peak of
Western imagination. Unlike Jerusalem, it had vanished.
Unlike Atlantis, someone had actually seen it. Even during
the glory of the British Empire, Coleridge held it out for
envy. But no more. Now it has been eclipsed, with ease, by
this, our country, founded not as a Xanadu but with the
greatest humility, and on the scale of yeomen and their small
farms, and as the cradle of simple gifts.
This country was not expected to be what it became. It was
expected to be infinite-seeming in its rivers, prairies and
stars, not in cities with hundreds of millions of rooms,
passages, halls, and buildings a quarter-mile high. It was
expected to be rich in natural silence and the quality of
light rather than in uncountable dollars. It was expected to
be a place of unfathomable numbers, but of blades of grass
and grains of wheat and the crags of mountains, rather than
millions upon millions of motors spinning and humming at any
one time, and wheels turning, fires burning, voices talking
and lights shining.
But this great inventory of machines, buildings, bridges,
vehicles and an incomprehensible number of smaller things, is
what we have. A nation founded according to a vision of
simplicity has become complex. A nation founded with disdain
for power has become the most powerful nation.
the essential qualities
When letters took a month by sea and the records of the
U.S. government could be moved in a single wagon pulled by
two horses, we had great statesmanship. We had men of
integrity and genius: Washington, Hamilton, Franklin,
Jefferson, Adams, Madison and Monroe. These were men who were
in love with principle as if it were an art, which, in their
practice, they made it. They studied empires that had fallen,
for the sake of doing what was right in a small country that
had barely risen, and were able to see things so clearly that
they surpassed in greatness each and every one of the
classical models that they had approached in awe.
Now, lost in the sins and complexity of a Xanadu, when we
desperately need their high qualities of thought, their
patience for deliberation, and their unerring sense of
balance, we have only what we have.
Which is a political class that in the main has abandoned
the essential qualities of statesmanship, with the excuse
that these are inappropriate to our age. They are wrong. Not
only do they fail to honor the principles of statesmanship,
they fail to recognize them, having failed to learn them,
having failed to have wanted to learn them.
In the main, they are in it for themselves. Were they not,
they would have a higher rate of attrition, falling with the
colors of what they believe rather than landing always on
their feet--adroitly, but in dishonor. In light of their vows
and responsibilities, this constitutes not merely a failure
but a betrayal, and not only of statesmanship and principle
but of country and kin.
And why is that? It is because things matter. Even though
it be played like a game, by men who excel at making it a
game, our life in this country, our history in this country,
the sacrifices that have been made for this country, the
lives that have been given to this country, are not a game.
My life is not a game. My children's lives are not a game. My
parents' lives were not a game. Your life is not a game.
Yes, it is true, we do have great accumulated stores--of
power, and wealth, and decency--against which those who
pretend to lead us can draw when as a result of their vanity
and ineptitude they waste and expend the gifts of previous
generations. The margin of error bequeathed to them allows
them to present their failures as successes.
They say, ``As we are still standing, and a chicken is in
the pot, what does it matter if I break the links between
action and consequence, work and reward, crime and
punishment, merit and advancement? I myself cannot imagine a
military threat (and never could), so what does it matter if
I weld shut the silo hatches on our ballistic missile
submarines? What does it matter if I weld shut my eyes to
weapons of mass destruction in the hands of lunatics who are
building long-range missiles? Our jurisprudence is the envy
of the world, so what does it matter if, now and then, I
perjure myself, a little? What is an oath? What is a pledge?
What is a sacred trust? Are not these things the province of
the kinds of people who were foolish enough to do without all
their lives, to wear the ruts into the Oregon Trail, to brave
the seas, to die on the beaches of Normandy and Iwo Jima and
on the battlefields of Shiloh and Antietam, for me, so that I
can draw from America's great accounts, and look good, and be
presidential, and have fun, in all kinds of ways?
Blood Onto Sand
That is what they say, if not in words then, indelibly, in
actions. They who, in robbing Peter to pay Paul, present
themselves as payers and forget that they are also robbers.
They who, with studied compassion, minister to some of us at
the expense of others. They who make goodness and charity a
public profession, depending for their election upon a well-
mannered embrace of these things and the power to move them
not from within themselves or by their own sacrifices but, by
compulsion, from others. They who, knowing very little or
next to nothing, take pride in eagerly telling everyone else
what to do. They who believe absolutely in their recitation
of pieties not because they believe in the pieties but
because they believe in themselves.
[[Page H5965]]
Nearly 400 years of America's hard-earned accounts--the
principles we established, the battles we fought, the morals
we upheld for century after century, our very humility before
God--now flow promiscuously through our hands, like blood
onto sand, squandered and laid waste by a generation that
imagines history to have been but a prelude for what it
itself will accomplish. More than a pity, more than a shame,
such a thing is despicable. And yet, this parlous condition,
this agony of weak men, this betrayal and this disgusting
show, are not the end of things.
Principles are eternal. They stem not from our resolution
or lack of it but from elsewhere, where in patient and
infinite ranks they simply wait to be called. They can be
read in history. They arise as if of their own accord when in
the face of danger natural courage comes into play and honor
and defiance are born. Things such as courage and honor are
the mortal equivalent of certain laws written throughout the
universe. The rules of symmetry and proportion, the laws of
physics, the perfection of mathematics, even the principle of
uncertainty, are encouragement, entirely independent of the
vagaries of human will, that not only natural law but our own
best aspirations have a life of their own. They have lasted
through far greater abuse than abuses them now. They can be
neglected, but they cannot be lost. They can be thrown down,
but they cannot be broken.
Each of them is a different expression of a single quality,
from which each arises in its hour of need. Some come to the
fore as others stay back, and then, with changing
circumstance, those that have gone unnoticed rise to the
occasion. Rise to the occasion. The principle suggests itself
from a phrase, and such principles suggest easily and flow
generously. You can grab them out of the air, from phrases,
from memories, from images.
A statesman must rise to the occasion. Even Democrats can
do this. Harry Truman had the discipline of plowing a
straight row 10, 12 and 14 hours a day, of rising and
retiring with the sun, of struggling with temperamental
machinery, of suffering heat and cold and one injury after
another. After a short time on a farm, presumptions about
ruling others tend to vanish. It is as if you are pulled to
earth and held there.
The man who works the land is hard put to think that he
would direct armies and nations. Truman understood the grave
responsibility of being the president of the United States,
and that it was a task too great for him or for anyone else
to accomplish without doing a great deal of injury--if not to
some, then to others. He understood that, therefore, he had
to transcend himself. There would be little enjoyment of the
job, because he had to be always aware of the enormous
consequences of everything he did. Contrast this with the
unspeakably vulgar pleasure in office of President Clinton.
Truman, absolutely certain that the mantle he assumed was
far greater than he could ever be, was continually and
deliberately aware of the weight of history, the
accomplishments of his predecessors, and, by humble and
imaginative projection, his own inadequacy. The sobriety and
care that derived from this allowed him a rare privilege for
modern presidents, to give to the presidency more than he
took from it. It is not possible to occupy the Oval Office
without arrogantly looting its assets or nobly adding to
them. May God bless the president who adds to them, and may
God damn the president who loots them.
America would not have come out of the Civil War as it did
had it not been led by men like Lincoln and Lee. The battles
raged for five years, but for 100 years the country, both
North and South, modeled itself on their characters. They
exemplified almost perfectly Churchill's statement that
``public men charged with the conduct of the war should live
in a continual stress of soul.''
This continual stress of soul is necessary as well in
peacetime, because for every good deed in public life there
is a counterbalance. Benefits are given only after taxes are
taken. That is part of governance. The statesman, who
represents the whole nation, sees in the equilibrium for
which he strives a continual tension between victory and
defeat. If he did not understand this, he would have no
stress of soul, he would be merely happy--about money
showered upon the orphan, taken from the widow. About
children sent to day care, so that they may be long absent
from their parents. About merciful parole, of criminals who
kill again. Whereas a statesman knows continual stress of
soul, a politician is happy, for he knows not what he does.
It is difficult for individuals or nations to recognize
that war and peace alternate. But they do. No matter how long
peace may last, it will end in war. Though most people cannot
believe at this moment that the United States of America will
ever again fight for its survival, history guarantees that it
will. And, when it does, most people will not know what to
do. They will believe of war, as they did of peace, that it
is everlasting. The statesman, who is different from everyone
else, will, in the midst of common despair, see the end of
war, just as during the peace he was alive to the
inevitability of war, and saw it coming in the far distance,
as if it were a gray wave moving quietly across a dark sea.
The politician will revel with his people and enjoy their
enjoyments. The statesman, in continual stress of soul, will
think of destruction. As others move in the light, he will
move in darkness, so that as others move in darkness, he may
move in the light. This tenacity, that is given to those of
long and insistent vision, is what saves nations.
A statesman must have a temperament that is suited for the
Medal of Honor, in a soul that is unafraid to die.
Electorates rightly favor those who have endured combat, not
as a matter of reward for service, as is commonly believed,
but because the willingness of a soldier to give his life is
a strong sign of his correct priorities, and that in the
future he will truly understand that statesmen are not rulers
but servants. It seems clear even in these years of squalid
degradation that having risked death for the sake of honor is
better than having risked dishonor for the sake of life.
Hunger for a Statesman
No matter what you are told by the sophisticated classes
that see virtue in every form of corruption and corruption in
every form of virtue, I think you know, as I do, that the
American people hunger for acts of integrity and courage. The
American people hunger for a statesman magnetized by the
truth, unwilling to give up his good name, uninterested in
calculation only for the sake of victory, unable to put his
interests before those of the nation. What this means in
practical terms is no focus groups, no polls, no
triangulation, no evasion, no broken promises and no lies.
These are the tools of the chameleon. They are employed to
cheat the American people of honest answers to direct
questions. If the average politician, for fear that he may
lose something, is incapable of even a genuine yes or no, how
is he supposed to rise to the great occasions of state? How
is he supposed to face a destructive and implacable enemy?
How is he supposed to understand the rightful destiny of his
country, and lead it there?
At the coronation of an English monarch, he is given a
sword. Elizabeth II took it last, and as she held it before
the altar, she head these words: ``Receive this kingly Sword,
brought now from the altar of God and delivered to you by us,
the Bishops and servants of God, though unworthy. With this
Sword do justice, stop the growth of iniquity, protect the
holy Church of God, help and defend widows and orphans,
restore the things that are gone to decay, maintain the
things that are restored, punish and reform what is amiss,
and confirm what is in good order; that doing these things
you may be glorious in all virtue; and so faithfully serve
our Lord.''
Would that we in America come once again to understand that
statesmanship is not the appetite for power but--because
things matter--a holy calling of self-abnegation and self-
sacrifice. We have made it something else. Nonetheless, after
and despite its betrayal, statesmanship remains the
manifestation, in political terms, of beauty, and balance,
and truth. It is the courage to tell the truth, and thus
discern what is ahead. It is a mastery of the symmetry of
forces, illuminated by the genius of speaking to the heart of
things.
Statesmanship is a quality that, though it may be betrayed,
is always ready to be taken up again merely by honest
subscription to its great themes. Have confidence that even
in idleness its strengths are growing, for it is a
providential gift given to us in times of need. Evidently we
do not need it now, but as the world is forever interesting
the time will surely come when we do. And then, so help me
God, I believe that, solely by the grace of God, the corrupt
will be thrown down and the virtuous will rise up.
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