The Fire This Time-The Cold
Civil War Cometh-Who Will Go Down In The Mud (And Win) Against The Trump Machine-Channeling
Bobby Kennedy, 1968-The Times Call For A Street Fighter-Bernie Sanders’ Time Has
Come
By Frank Jackman
Last year well before the presidential
candidates as least publicly started putting their eggs in their respective
baskets I made a big deal, a big splash out of commemorating the 50th
anniversary of the assassination of Robert F. Kennedy, our beloved Bobby who I have
shed more than one cyber-tear over just saying his name (and some misty moments
off computer). Like many past events in this publication that death required
some commentary as a watershed moment not just for me personally but as a point
where things could have gone the other way in a perhaps dramatic fashion. So
beyond a tear for my (and Bobby’s) youthful idealism gone awry it was also a “what
might have been” moment. History in the conditional is always problematic but there
you have it.
A great part of why I, a
senior in college who had basically completed his course work, worked like seven
dervishes as a youth organizer all along the Eastern part of the country for
Bobby was that I feared for the fate of the country if one Richard Milhous
Nixon had been elected POTUS (Twitter speak). That prospect in the wake of the disastrous
Goldwater campaign in 1964 against Lyndon Baines Johnson which had opened the
floodgates to get the Republican back somewhere off the edge of the cliff made
Nixon and his henchmen the “chosen” choice early on. As it turned out my “prophecy”
turned out to be correct as Nixon’s presidency brought us to the brink of the
breakdown of republican rule (small “r” let’s be clear).
Bobby Kennedy’s assassination
and the subsequent Nixon victory over Humbert H. Humphrey also had personal
consequences since I had projected, not without reason, that if Bobby had gone
on to be nominated by the Democrats (which seemed more certain after the fateful
California primary victory over tough opponent Senator Eugene McCarthy, the Irish
poet-politician) and finished off Nixon’s so crooked he needed a corkscrew for
his valet to fit him into his pants every morning I would be in line for a political
job most likely in Washington which would have gone a long way toward my childhood
dream of being a political make and shaker in the traditional sense. Without a
doubt part of that whirling dervish Spring of 1968 was the threat of the draft
hanging over my head without some kind of political pull. (I have come to
realize through many, many conversations with the male segment of my “Generation
of ‘68” that every guy had that Vietnam War decision with no good choices hanging
over his head one way or another).
The lasting memory though
was of fear for the fate of the country for a man who truly believed in a modern-day
version of the “divine right of kings,” that he was above the law. You can see
where this is leading. As I have written and others like my old friend Seth
Garth from my growing up Acre neighborhood in North Adamsville I was drafted,
was trained as an 11 Bravo, an infantryman, at a time when the only place that
skill was needed just then was in Vietnam. After much anguish and confusion, I would
refuse the orders to go and wound up in an Army stockade and a long legal
battle to get my freedom. The long and short of that experience was that my personal
political perspective changed from concern over becoming a maker and shaker to
being concerned more about issues like war and peace, social justice and being
a thorn in the side of whatever government was in power. From the outside. I
have kept that perspective for the past fifty years being involved in many
issue campaigns, some successful others like the struggle against the endless
wars and bloated military budgets not so.
Back to Bobby Kennedy.
Everybody knows what trouble, serious trouble, what I have called in the title
to this piece and elsewhere for the past few years “the cold civil war” we are
in now (this predated the Trump presidency which has only put the push toward
hot civil war on steroids). Now when another POTUS, Donald J. Trump, really
believes in the modern-day version of the “divine right of kings” and has upped
the ante some old-time feelings have reemerged. In other words, conditions
(although I would not have called it cold civil war then) looked very much like
what drove me to “seek a newer world” Bobby Kennedy’s camp.
Naturally, or maybe not so
naturally, but out of necessity that means at this time “stooping” (and I used
that expression in a jovial way) to get involved in presidential politics, to
get “down in the mud,” to join what will be come 2020 an old-fashioned take no
prisoners “street fight.” To be part of what was called in the early stages of
Senator McCarthy’s seemingly quixotic challenge to a sitting president a “children’s
crusade.” To support someone who can speak to the better angels of our natures and
WIN. That candidate for many reasons, but mainly because he has been down in
the mud many times and can keep pace with the treacherous stuff that will come out
of the Trump campaign is Bernie Sanders.
Bernie is no Bobby from
looks to style. Also as far as I know he never had nor now has that ruthlessness
Bobby had combined with that that “seek a newer world” drive which I have always
loved in a politician (and with Jack and Bobby Irish politicians, those who wrote
the book on ruthlessness and vision). But Bernie has the kids eating out of his
hand and that is exactly what we need right now. So for better or worse I am
with Bernie, willing to work like seven dervishes to get him over the finish line.
Channeling Bobby Kennedy every misty-eyed moment.
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