Memo to Senator John Kerry: whether you like it or not, the moment of
truth in this campaign has arrived.
You chose a flawed, phony script in Boston and beforehand. You left a
glaring omission in the biography you presented to the electorate.
Treating it as ballot-box poison, you forbade all of your champions on the
Fleet Center podium to mention it, much less sing your praises for it.
Now your worst enemies are forcing the issue to the limelight. This
time you duck it only at your peril. You cannot obfuscate or equivocate
any longer. It is time for you to admit, once and for all, that you were,
and are, a Vietnam veteran who turned against the war. If you're worth the
faith that we the people long to invest in you, you'll say it proudly, and
remind us why that war was such a colossal crime.
It is obvious to any person who has a passing regard for facts that
those fellow Swift boat veterans who oppose you politically do not stand
"for truth." We know the charges they have so far brought are
scurrilous, specious and cruel, and their tactics straight from the Karl
Rove playbook of dirty tricks. Yet the painful reality is, they have
exploited the very large opening your efforts to bury your anti-war record
created.
For the Swift Boat group does have a serious point to make - and it's
the one they haven't made yet. What these guys have against you, their
real animus, has nothing to do with what you did in Vietnam, but what you
did when you returned - your activism and testimony against the war. To
these guys, you are "Hanoi John," a traitor. That is the heart
of the issue. That is the charge you have ducked so far, and the one you
need to answer.
It's not about whether you shot yourself in the foot over there. It's
about how you're shooting yourself in the foot now.
Your anti-war stance of 1971 has become your greatest vulnerability,
simply because you've been unwilling to embrace it. Yet for many of us who
are familiar with your life story, it actually represents your greatest
strength. Opposing that misbegotten war, putting on your uniform and
telling the Senate why, required authentic, gutsy, true leadership.
You have staked your candidacy on the claim that you can be trusted to
guide the ship of state through dangerous waters. You cast this election,
correctly, as a choice between a phony leader and a real leader. Yet by
refusing to own up to this admittedly controversial example of your
leadership, you have undermined your case. This is the most unkindest
flip-flop of all.
Fortunately, the Swift boat veterans are handing you a huge gift, if
you will only perceive it as such - one last opportunity to demonstrate
true leadership again. Remember that most of us still perceive the Vietnam
war as the tragic colonial misadventure that it was. We need you to remind
us, forcefully, of this truth our nation so painfully learned. And we need
you to remind us that then and now, dissent is patriotic, not treasonous.
This is true leadership - the right thing to do both morally and
politically.
I know I'm asking you to do something risky. And I know the reasons why
you'll be tempted to duck the issue again - reasons relating less to the
Vietnam war than to the Iraq war. But here as well, the traps that Rove
and company have set for you are traps of your own making. I cringed to
hear you refuse to rethink your vote for the Iraq war, to hear you say you
would have voted yes even if the stream of lies coming from the White
House had been exposed. You thought you were evading the trap this time,
not taking the bait, denying them another chance to call you flip-flopper.
But instead you were taking yourself, and all of us, deeper into the
quagmire.
Iraq is the reason you are afraid to answer the "Hanoi John"
charges; Iraq is the reason you have tried to expunge 1971 from your
biography. You know that the parallels between Vietnam and Iraq, while far
from absolute, are considerable. You know we should not have gone into
Iraq, and you know how hard it will be to get us out. And you know that
ninety percent of the delegates in Boston, and the majority of the
American public, now oppose this war. Yet you will not denounce it, you
defend your vote to authorize it, and you promise only to try to persuade
more allies to come aboard this sinking ship. You know these choices have
alienated a crucial part of your base and done yourself out of what should
be your strongest campaign issue.
Your own personal Iraq quagmire is, in microcosm, the quagmire facing
the nation as a whole. And we need you to steer yourself and all of us out
of it in as swift a boat as you can command. It so happens that the way
out of Iraq leads, once again, through Vietnam. That is the unenviable
duty for which you have actually reported. It's also why you could be,
should be, exactly the right leader for this historical moment - if only
you would rise to the occasion and be the anti-war veteran that you are.
When your views evolve as the truth slowly sets in, when you admit that
you were wrong and plot a new direction to correct the error, that's not
flip-flopping. That's courage. A much stronger and more mature courage
than staying the course when it's a stupid course. We the people are ready
for this message. In my view, this is the message that will lead to
victory in November - not just victory, but victory with a mandate to
bring meaningful change to our foreign policy and healing to our deeply
troubled political culture.
That's why the campaign bumpersticker on my car says: "How can you
ask a man to be the last man to die for a mistake?" The John Kerry
who said those words is the John Kerry we need in the Oval Office.
Roger K. Smith (rajakiml@yahoo.com)
teaches journalism at the Roy H. Park School of Communication at Ithaca
College.
Originally published in Commondreams.org