In what
the White House promoted as "a major speech," President George
W. Bush compared the struggle against terrorism to the Cold War, "Islamo-fascism"
to communism and the fugitive cave-dweller Osama bin Laden to Adolf Hitler.
A somber Bush reminded his listeners that this "war will require
more sacrifice, more time, more resolve" and that "the defense
of freedom is worth sacrifice."
Then, the president, whose poll scores on being "honest and straightforward"
are dropping as fast as his favorable job-ratings, showed once more how
little he really trusted and how little he really thought of us, his fellow
citizens. He again failed to ask of us civilians any sacrifice at all,
no matter how minor, in behalf of our country.
Does the president think we are too selfish, too pampered, too unpatriotic
to accept any personal inconvenience for the common good? Compare Bush's
repeated failures to ask us on the home front for anything other than
uncritical support for his failed and failing policies to his White House
predecessor, Franklin D. Roosevelt (who actually had to fight Hitler and
his then-undefeated army), who summoned American civilians to do without
leather, rubber, wool, nylon, new shoes and new cars, and to accept the
severe rationing of gasoline, fresh meat, butter, cheese and canned goods.
Much has been rhapsodized about the Greatest Generation, which endured
the Great Depression and then fought and won World War II. But at Exeter
or Yale or the Harvard Business School, did George W. Bush ever read about
that female Americans of that same generation on the home front totally
going without nylon stockings, so that the materials could be made into
parachutes? Skirts were shortened to save fabric for the war effort, and
fashion was a casualty.
Recycling came to the United States after Pearl Harbor. Civilians, including
children, responded to FDR's urging to salvage tin cans, bottles, even
tin foil from gum wrappers, and scraps of nylon and rubber. Every community
held scrap-metal drives and paper drives. Americans, mindful of the far
more profound sacrifices being made by those in uniform, mostly willingly
went without the everyday conveniences they had come to rely upon.
Again, because our leaders asked us to, we grew our own vegetables and
fruit in family and community Victory Gardens. This was no symbolic gesture.
By the third year of the war, half the nation's fresh produce came from
neighborhood and backyard gardens tilled by ordinary Americans.
At the outset of the war, the median income in the United States was $2,000
a year. To finance the enormous costs of the war, all Americans were asked
to sacrifice (tax increases instead of tax cuts, by buying war bonds).
The response: 85 million citizens -- one out of two Americans -- bought
at least one war bond and provided the country with $185.7 billion. This
is the same civilian population that produced for the military effort
2,832,000 trucks, 15 million guns, 41 billion bullets, 224,000 artillery
pieces, 324,000 aircraft and 88,000 tanks.
Maybe Bush does not understand sacrifice. After all, earlier this year,
he revealed he did not share the common meaning of "ultimate sacrifice"
with most of his countrymen, who reserve that term for Americans who have
given their lives in military service, when he spoke of the drawbacks
of political life: "It's the ultimate sacrifice (sic), really: sacrifice
your privacy. It's sacrifice of time with your kids."
Mr. President, give us some credit. We are not terminally greedy materialists
who put our personal tax cuts and comfort ahead of national security or
the well-being of our fellow citizens. If the cause you champion is truly
a life-or-death matter, then prove it by asking us to sacrifice for the
common good. That is the American Way.
