Because of Jews

The story is told that on one occasion, Karl Barth was asked why he believed in God, and he responded, “Because of Jews.”  When his questioner, surprised, asked, “Why because of Jews?” Barth is said to have responded, “Find me a Hittite in New York City.”Now, I don’t know for a fact that Barth said that—though it sounds quite plausible to me—but whether original to Barth or not, it’s a good point.  The Jews are to anthropology and human history what the crocodile is to paleontology and zoology:  a remarkable survival from a vanished time.  And no, I’m not comparing Jews to crocodiles—quite the opposite, in fact, which only intensifies the point; where the crocodile has survived because it’s an indomitable predator that’s too mean and too efficient at killing things to die off, the Jewish people have not survived through power politics, but rather despite them.  They have survived and kept their national and religious identity through conquest and exile, enduring centuries in which everyone’s hand was against them.  This is a survival which is unmatched in human history.To understand this, consider Barth’s case of the Hittites—or for that matter, the Philistines, the Carthaginians, the Etruscans, the Assyrians, the Parthians, the Scythians, the Medes, or the Babylonians.  None of these peoples exist anymore.  They were conquered, assimilated, lost their national and cultural identity, and disappeared into memory.  This was, throughout the pagan era, the normal pattern.  Religion was the tentpole of the culture—the people took their identity in large part from the gods they worshiped, and the gods were worthy of worship as long as they sustained the independence of their people and brought them victory in battle.  When defeat came in battle and the nation was conquered, that marked the defeat of their gods by another, more powerful, set of gods; that brought an end to their religion (sometimes more gradually than others), which left the culture largely unsupported and caused it, over time, to collapse.Along with that, the language would go, because there was no longer anything to keep it alive, and no longer any utility in speaking it.  In the modern era, with the rise of nationalism, we’ve seen a force develop in resistance to that process, and efforts to revitalize languages from Navajo to Welsh and rebuild the base of native speakers; but in the pagan era, whatever efforts there might have been to keep languages like Hittite alive, they didn’t succeed.  There simply wasn’t the cultural capital for such an effort to succeed, or even to make sense, and so languages died with their cultures.The great exception from that time period is the Jews.  Granted, Hebrew largely died as a spoken language and had to be reconstituted, even reinvented; but it was possible to do so, and the people still existed to do it.  They survived conquest by the Assyrians and Babylonians, and endured as a distinct people in exile to be returned to their homeland under the Persians; they endured the rule of the Persians and the Greeks, won their independence for a while, were reconquered by the Romans, who ultimately dispersed them across the empire—and they endured that, too.  They existed as a people and a religion without a homeland, through many different cultures and under many different regimes, for the better part of two millennia; and after all that time, the idea of a Jewish state still made sense, because there was still an identifiable Jewish people to live in it.  We’re accustomed to this as we’re accustomed to so many things simply because they’re facts—and yet, what an extraordinary fact it is!  If we don’t stop and think about it, we miss that.To my way of thinking, then, Barth (or whoever actually said it first) was right to hold up the simple existence of the Jews as a reason to believe in the God of Israel.  This is one of the reasons why, contrary to what folks like FVThinker seem to believe, the God of Israel cannot be disproven on the same grounds as the old pagan gods:  his people still exist as his people, and theirs don’t.

Some people don’t need PR

Conservatives4Palin found an astonishing post on the Governor by a blogger who goes by the handle The Aged P, an infrequent poster but clearly someone well worth listening to when he does post.  I’m going to do something I rarely do and quote the post in full, because it would be a shame to chop up the analysis:

The one thing that Gov Palin has not been short of since the election has been advice from Republicans and the media—stand for governor again in 2010, go for the Senate, go for POTUS 2012, wait until 2016, write a book, go into the media, give up politics and concentrate on her family—the options are endless.As an outside observer, however, it strikes me that she is intelligent enough and shrewd enough to make up her own mind. I think that maybe she has already decided on a course – I believe she is going de Gaulle.General de Gaulle entered France alongside the Allies at the head of his Free French army after years of exile in London. Initially greeted as a returning hero by the French he served as the President of the Provisional Government but within two years he had resigned, disillusioned by the re-emergence of the old inter-party squabbles that had characterised the pre-war regime.For the next few years he led his own political party but, tiring of the political rat race in 1953 he withdrew from public life and retired in self-imposed internal exile to his home in the village of Colombey-les-Deux-Eglises to write his war memoirs, and many pundits wrote him off as a man whose time had passed.His followers, however, retained their cohesion because they saw de Gaulle as a man of destiny who one day would be called forth from his exile by the people of France to rescue them at a time of great danger—which is exactly what happened in 1958 when France was torn apart by the Algerian crisis. The General returned to office but this time on his own terms and remained in power for the next decade.Since the Alfalfa Dinner Gov Palin appears to have chosen Alaska as her own Colombey-les-Deux-Eglises, far enough away from the mainstream of US politics, concerning herself with her responsibilities as Governor and keeping a distance between herself and the spotlight, just as de Gaulle did in the 1950s. She has stayed away from CPAC, she did not attend the NGA, causing some irritation amongst some elements who would prefer her to act as some Joan of Arc type figure scorching across the lower 48 thrusting and slashing at the President and Congress. Staying out of the spotlight is not an option for some of these folk who often see politics as showbiz where your PR people will tell you that you have to be forever working on your next film or album to remain in the public eye.But the Governor does not need any of that—like de Gaulle she is so deeply impressed upon the public’s imagination that she needs no PR, she is simply there.De Gaulle was relatively unknown to the French people in 1940 but millions of them heard his broadcast from London at the moment of their deepest despair and in those few minutes he became the inspiration and hope for so many. Governor Palin walked onto the stage at the Republican Convention, electrified millions and stole their hearts forever with her grace, her honesty and her love of life sealing there and then a contract and covenant of support through fire and flood whatever may happen. Camille Paglia called her an immensely talented politician whose time had not yet come. But perhaps, one day, just as in 1958 with de Gaulle, a message will go across Canada to the north saying her time has come—and then the banners must unfurl . . .

Other than noting that Gov. Palin isn’t exactly in internal exile, but is in fact continuing to do her job as an effective and popular governor, I don’t think there’s anything here I’d argue with.  Click the link, give this man some traffic and leave a comment, because he’s produced a remarkable piece of political commentary here.And I agree with Ramrocks—that last sentence really gets me.

Jerusalem, San Francisco, and the meaning of eyewitnesses

In the comments on my post on worship and atheism, FVThinker is trying to argue (among other things) that “all the conflicting stories re: his resurrection” constitute sufficient reason to deny the Resurrection of Christ. Now, in the first place, I deny the assertion, which is just one more tired leftover from liberal German scholarship of a century and more ago; but let’s suppose, for the sake of argument, that we grant the point. Does this in fact constitute a compelling argument against the historicity of the Resurrection?No, it doesn’t. To understand why, consider a more recent historical incident, the San Francisco earthquake of 1906. If you’ve read Simon Winchester’s excellent book A Crack in the Edge of the World: America and the Great California Earthquake of 1906, then you probably remember that in the Prologue, Winchester quotes from five eyewitness accounts of the quake. Consider the following.

At the precise moment when the members of this quintet—three of them very distinguished men of science and two others of relatively modest social standing—were undertaking their very mundane activities . . . it was twelve minutes after five o’clock in the morning.However, this was a matter of provable fact only for the Englishman, so far as the record relates.  His name was George Davidson, and he, like his fellow scientists, wrote about the event that was to follow with a certain icy detachment.  He took care to mark the time that he first noticed something happening:  Suddenly and without warning his room, his house, and the very land all was standing upon began to shake, with a great, ever-increasing, and uncontrollable violence.It was, he knew full well, an earthquake.It came, he later reported,

from north to south, and the only description I am able to give of its effect is that it seemed like a terrier shaking a rat.  I was in bed, but was awakened by the first shock.  I began to count the seconds as I went towards the table where my watch was, being able through much practice closely to approximate the time in that manner.  The shock came at 5.12 o’clock.  The first sixty seconds were the most severe.  From that time on it decreased gradually for about thirty seconds.  There was then the slightest perceptible lull.  Then the shock continued for sixty seconds longer, being slighter in degree in this minute than in any part of the preceding minute and a half.  There were two slight shocks afterwards which I did not time.

Professor Davidson must have been as terrified as anyone, but he was a man trained to observe, and he knew in an instant what was taking place. . . .  the first full series of hard shocks, say his notes, lasted until 5h 13m 00s.  The shocks were slightly less from that point until 5h 13m 30s, then there was a slight lull, and by 5h 14m 30s all was quiet again. . . .  The official report on the earthquake said, in a tone that brooked no dispute, “We shall accept Professor Davidson’s time as the most accurate obtainable for San Francisco.

The second eyewitness account Winchester considers is that of the meteorologist Alexander George McAdie.

Professor McAdie was an ambitious and a punctilious man, and at the very moment that he was awakened . . . both his ambition and his scrupulous regard for factual observation . . . came promptly to the fore.  As had been his custom ever since he went through the Great Charleston Earthquake of 1886 (“for twenty years I have timed every earthquake I have felt,” he was later to write”), the instant he awoke and felt movement he clicked on his flashlight, noted the time on his fob watch, and recorded in his notebook everything that transpired.

I have lookt up the record in my note-book made on April 18, 1906, while the earthquake was still perceptible.  I find the entry “5h 12m” and after that “Severe lasted nearly 40 seconds.”  As I now remember it the portion “severe, etc.” was entered immediately after the shaking.

The only snag was that poor Professor McAdie somehow managed to misread his watch during all the confusion, and he wreathed himself in a magnificent maze of complications as he tried to explain the mistake.  He wrote that the day before the earthquake,

my error was “1 minute slow” at noon by time-ball, or time signals received in Weather Bureau and which my watch has been compared for a number of years.  The rate of my watch is 5 seconds loss per day; therefore the corrected time of my entry is 5h 13m 05s AM.  This is not of course the beginning of the quake.  I would say perhaps 6 or more seconds may have elapsed between the act of waking, realizing, and looking at the watch and making my entry.  I remember distinctly getting the minute-hand’s position, previous to the most violent portion of the shock.  The end of the shock I did not get exactly, as I was watching the second-hand, and the end came several seconds before I fully took in that the motion had ceased.  The second-hand was somewhere between 40 and 50 when I realized this.  I lost the position of the second-hand because of difficulty in keeping my feet, somewhere around the 20-second mark.However, there is one uncertainty.  I may have read my watch wrong.  I have no reason to think I did; but I know from experience such things are possible.  I have the original entries untouched since the time they were made.

The official report accepts that the unfortunate man did effect an error in making what was probably the most critical observation of his career—but, out of courtesy, adds that such a mistake would have been very easy to make.  The one-minute error is, then, officially compensated for, and Alexander McAdie enters the lists as having, essentially, timed the Great San Francisco Earthquake as beginning at 5h 12m 05s, recorded that it became extremely severe at 5h 12m 25s, and noted that it tailed off into bearable oblivion at 5h 12m 50s.  The whole event, in McAdie’s eyes, extended over little more than forty seconds—about half the time that Davidson had computed, from his observations that were made a little bit closer to town.

One of the other eyewitnesses Winchester cites is Fred Hewitt, a reporter for the San Francisco Examiner.

It was some minutes after five o’clock when he and his two friends crossed Golden Gate Avenue, spent five minutes talking to a pair of policemen—”blue-coated guardians” as he later wrote for his paper—and said their farewells.  Hewitt had turned north, the policemen back south down Larkin, when suddenly:

The ground rose and fell like an ocean at ebb tide.  Then came the crash . . . I saw those policement enveloped by a shower of falling stone.It is impossible to judge the length of that shock.  To me it seemed like an eternity.  I was thrown prone on my back and the pavement pulsated like a living thing.  Around me the huge buildings, looking more terrible becasue of the queer dance they were performing, wobbled and veered.  Crash followed crash and resounded on all sides. . . .The first portion of the shock was just a mild forerunning of what was to follow.  The pause in the action of the earth’s surface couldn’t have been more than a fraction of a second. . . . Then came the second and more terrific crash.

Now, in this collection of testimony from three different observers—including two professional scientists, people trained to observe, measure, and record things with uncommon precision—we see discrepancies in the details.  Indeed, between the two scientists we see discrepancies in their accounts of the start time and length of the quake which, given the level of precision to which they were trained and which they were attempting, can only be described as significant; and we have another witness who declares, “It is impossible to judge the length of that shock,” and offers another differing account of the quake’s progress.  We have here, at the least, “conflicting stories re:  the earthquake.”The question is, what can we conclude from these discrepancies?  Specifically, can we conclude that the earthquake didn’t happen?  Clearly, we can’t; the inference is logically unjustifiable—a point which is made helpfully obvious in this case by the fact that the earthquake is recent enough that we still have lots of other evidence as well which bears witness to it.  Even if several hundred or thousand years in the future, it somehow happened that the only record of that earthquake was these three statements, scholars of that future time would in no way be justified in concluding that because of these discrepancies, they could dismiss the San Francisco earthquake of 1906 as ahistorical—and if they insisted on doing so anyway, they would be arguing illogically to reach a false conclusion.What needs to be understood here is that whatever differences there may be in the details of these three reports, they agree on the core facts:  some little time past 5am in the cold morning of April 18, 1906, a major earthquake hit San Francisco, California, and their world was shaken, and their lives were never the same again.  Whatever they disagree on, they testify to that much with firm unanimity, and so their collective statements in fact provide strong support for the existence and significance of that event.The same may be said of the accounts of Jesus’ resurrection.  Even if we grant, for the sake of argument, actual discrepancies and contradictions in the details of the accounts, they agree on the core facts:  Jesus died on a Roman cross; his body was sealed in a rock tomb behind a heavy stone door; the following Sunday, the stone was found moved away from the tomb, and the tomb was empty; no one ever produced his body; and in fact, he appeared again alive on various occasions to various of his followers.  Whatever they might be said to disagree on, the reports agree that some time that Sunday morning, Jesus was raised from the dead, and their world was shaken, and their lives were never the same again; they testify to that much with firm unanimity, and so their collective statements in fact provide strong support for the existence and significance of that event.  To seize on alleged discrepancies as an excuse to conclude otherwise is every bit as logically unjustifiable as it would be to conclude from the eyewitness statements quoted above that there was no earthquake in San Francisco in 1906.The fact is, eyewitness testimony always varies—always. People see different things, perceive things differently, assign different levels of importance to various details, and yes, make mistakes and misremember things, even if they’re doing their best to be accurate.  Variance in eyewitness testimony is therefore to be expected.  Indeed, if you have a group of eyewitnesses who all tell the exact same story with no variation, that’s a pretty good sign that they’ve gotten together to get their stories straight, and thus that their testimony is probably unreliable in some way.  What the differences in the scriptural accounts primarily demonstrate is that there was no collusion between the witnesses—which is, on the whole, a good thing, and speaks more to their basic reliability than the reverse.

Why do we never seem to learn?

Granted, there are certainly individuals who learn from their mistakes—and, just as importantly, from the mistakes of others—and occasionally organizations that do; but if you take human beings as a whole, if you look at the national level and the world level, the record just isn’t good. The Spanish-American philosopher George Santayana is famous for teaching us that those who do not learn from the past are condemned to repeat it; the great British historian Arnold Toynbee is famous for his insight that history is essentially cyclical, the same patterns repeating over and over. What does this tell you? Nothing you didn’t already know, that’s what. To take one example, appeasement worked so well with Hitler in the 1930s that we tried it again with the Soviet Union—for a while—and then we tried it with Iran . . . and we kept trying it with Iran . . . and now we’re trying it even harder with Iran, apparently on the theory that we just haven’t groveled enough to make them play nice.  Meanwhile, the government of Iran just keeps getting crazier and crazier, so you do the math on that one.  But do we learn anything from this? On the evidence, no.This is not, of course, a new phenomenon—not even close. The disinclination to learn lessons we really don’t want to learn is very, very human, and we can always find some way to rationalize that disinclination, some sort of excuse to justify it. The thing is, though, when rationalizations meet reality, what happens? You ever dropped an egg on a hard floor? If you went up to the top of the courthouse building and threw that egg at the road, do you think the extra momentum would help it break through the pavement? No—you’d just get a bigger explosion. When we refuse to learn from what went wrong the last time—when we convince ourselves that this time, it will be different—that’s what we get. Those who do not learn from the past are condemned to repeat it.

Lincoln’s Second Inaugural Address

In honoring Abraham Lincoln’s 200th birthday, I wanted to post here my favorite of his speeches, which I believe is the greatest piece of public theology ever produced in this nation.

At this second appearing to take the oath of the presidential office, there is less occasion for an extended address than there was at the first. Then a statement, somewhat in detail, of a course to be pursued, seemed fitting and proper. Now, at the expiration of four years, during which public declarations have been constantly called forth on every point and phase of the great contest which still absorbs the attention, and engrosses the energies of the nation, little that is new could be presented. The progress of our arms, upon which all else chiefly depends, is as well known to the public as to myself; and it is, I trust, reasonably satisfactory and encouraging to all. With high hope for the future, no prediction in regard to it is ventured.On the occasion corresponding to this four years ago, all thoughts were anxiously directed to an impending civil war. All dreaded it—all sought to avert it. While the inaugural address was being delivered from this place, devoted altogether to saving the Union without war, insurgent agents were in the city seeking to destroy it without war—seeking to dissolve the Union, and divide effects, by negotiation. Both parties deprecated war; but one of them would make war rather than let the nation survive; and the other would accept war rather than let it perish. And the war came.One eighth of the whole population were colored slaves, not distributed generally over the Union, but localized in the Southern part of it. These slaves constituted a peculiar and powerful interest. All knew that this interest was, somehow, the cause of the war. To strengthen, perpetuate, and extend this interest was the object for which the insurgents would rend the Union, even by war; while the government claimed no right to do more than to restrict the territorial enlargement of it. Neither party expected for the war, the magnitude, or the duration, which it has already attained. Neither anticipated that the cause of the conflict might cease with, or even before, the conflict itself should cease. Each looked for an easier triumph, and a result less fundamental and astounding. Both read the same Bible, and pray to the same God; and each invokes His aid against the other. It may seem strange that any men should dare to ask a just God’s assistance in wringing their bread from the sweat of other men’s faces; but let us judge not that we be not judged. The prayers of both could not be answered; that of neither has been answered fully. The Almighty has his own purposes. “Woe unto the world because of offences! for it must needs be that offences come; but woe to that man by whom the offence cometh!” If we shall suppose that American Slavery is one of those offences which, in the providence of God, must needs come, but which, having continued through His appointed time, He now wills to remove, and that He gives to both North and South, this terrible war, as the woe due to those by whom the offence came, shall we discern therein any departure from those divine attributes which the believers in a Living God always ascribe to Him? Fondly do we hope—fervently do we pray—that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue, until all the wealth piled by the bond-man’s two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash, shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said: “the judgments of the Lord, are true and righteous altogether.”With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation’s wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan—to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace, among ourselves, and with all nations.

Abraham Lincoln, 200 (updated)

Today is the bicentennial anniversary of Abraham Lincoln’s birth.  In Lincoln I believe we see, more clearly than at any time since the founding of this nation, the hand of God providentially appointing the right person to lead these United States of America; there has been no greater leader in this country’s history, and there may never be.  Power Line has a good series of reflections posted on Lincoln as war leader, as “America’s indispensable teacher of the moral ground of political freedom,” as perhaps the greatest lawyer in American history, as anti-slavery debater, as constitutional commander-in-chief, and as friend to Frederick Douglass; it’s well worth your time to read them and follow the links (particularly Diana Schaub’s article on the Lincoln-Douglas debates).  Also well worth reading is Warner Todd Huston’s piece on “The Lincoln We Need.”  I’m not going to try to explicate Lincoln, because I know it’s beyond me to do the man justice; he is to American history as Hamlet is to English literature, the towering figure that we’ll still be trying to fully understand when God rings down the curtain on this world.  I will simply say this:  as Americans, we should get down on our knees and thank God for sending this nation Abraham Lincoln for that critical time in our history—and pray that he’ll raise up an equivalent leader soon.

Listen to the dream

My children are in school today; our school district is using holidays as snow days, which doesn’t exactly seem kosher to me. So, as a tribute but also as a bit of a protest, I thought I’d post Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech this morning; this is the whole thing, not just the famous peroration, and if you’ve never heard it, it’s more than worth the time to listen. For that matter, even if you have heard it, it’s still more than worth the time.

When you have to laugh to keep from crying

be grateful Dave Barry still has his column. His “Year in Review” column from this past Sunday is a classic; of course, with so much material to work with, it ought to be. For a taste, here’s the first part of his entry for January,

which begins, as it does every four years, with presidential contenders swarming into Iowa and expressing sincerely feigned interest in corn. The Iowa caucuses produce two surprises:

  • On the Republican side, the winner is Mike Huckabee, folksy former governor of Arkansas, or possibly Oklahoma, who vows to remain in the race until he gets a commentator gig with Fox. His win deals a severe blow to Mitt Romney and his bid to become the first president of the android persuasion. Not competing in Iowa are Rudy Giuliani, whose strategy is to stay out of the race until he is mathematically eliminated, and John McCain, who entered the caucus date incorrectly into his 1996 Palm Pilot.
  • On the Democratic side, the surprise winner is Barack Obama, who is running for president on a long and impressive record of running for president. A mesmerizing speaker, Obama electrifies voters with his exciting new ideas for change, although people have trouble remembering exactly what these ideas are because they are so darned mesmerized. Some people become so excited that they actually pass out. These are members of the press corps.

Obama’s victory comes at the expense of former front-runner Hillary Clinton, who fails to ignite voter passion despite a rip-snorter of a stump speech in which she recites, without notes, all 17 points of her plan to streamline tuition-loan applications.

And you think bureaucracy is bad now

I’ve been reading David Hamilton-Williams’ book Waterloo: New Perspectives: The Great Battle Reappraised, which I picked up used some time ago on a flyer; it’s a controverted work and I’m no expert in Napoleonic history, so I don’t claim to pronounce on the accuracy of the author’s conclusions, but it’s an interesting read. One of the things which struck me was his account of the screwy bureaucratic structure under which the British army labored, and the ways in which it hampered military operations. I don’t think one needs to know much about the Peninsular War (the 1807-13 war in Portugal and Spain; Arthur Wellesley took command of the British forces in 1809 and was eventually created Duke of Wellington for his success) to understand this letter from Wellington to the War Office which the book quotes:

Gentlemen: Whilst marching to Portugal to a position which commands the approach to Madrid and the French forces, my officers have been diligently complying with your request which has been sent by H.M. ship from London to Lisbon and then by dispatch rider to our headquarters. We have enumerated our saddles, bridles, tents, and tent poles, and all manner of sundry items for which His Majesty’s Government holds me accountable. I have dispatched reports on the character, wit, spleen of every officer. Each Item and every farthing has been accounted for, with two regrettable exceptions for which I beg you your indulgence. Unfortunately, the sum of one shilling and ninepence remains unaccounted for in one infantry battalion’s petty cash and there has been a hideous confusion as to the number of jars of raspberry jam issued to one cavalry regiment during a sandstorm in western Spain. This reprehensible carelessness may be related to the pressure of circumstances since we are at war with France, a fact which may come as a bit of a surprise to you gentlemen in Whitehall. This brings me to my present purpose, which is to request elucidation of my instructions from His Majesty’s Government, so that I may better understand why I am dragging an army over these barren plains. I construe that perforce it must be one of the alternative duties, as given below. I shall pursue one with the best of my ability but I cannot do both. 1. To train an army of uniformed British clerks in Spain for the benefit of the accountants and copy-boys in London, or perchance, 2. To see to it that the forces of Napoleon are driven out of Spain.

From the library

A couple days ago, I pulled The New Bill James Historical Baseball Abstract off the shelf for a little light reading, and was interested to run across this item (the title is original):

YOU’D HAVE A HECK OF A TIME PROVING HE WAS WRONGIn 1960 Jackie Robinson went to visit both of the presidential candidates, Richard Nixon and John F. Kennedy. He endorsed Nixon. In 1964 Robinson worked for Barry Goldwater. He felt that Lyndon Johnson, by politicizing the race issue, would ultimately undermine support for civil rights—as, of course, he did. Robinson realized that civil rights gains could not continue without the support of both political parties. “It would make everything I worked for meaningless,” Robinson told Roger Kahn, “if baseball is integrated but political parties were segregated.”

Make of that what you will, but Jackie Robinson was nobody’s fool. I’m reminded of the question someone asked recently (I don’t remember where I read it), would Americans have been so ready to elect Barack Obama to the White House if they hadn’t grown used to seeing first Colin Powell and then Condoleeza Rice on the news every night as Secretary of State?