Fw: Margaret Thatcher 1925-2013 (David McReynolds)

----- Original Message ----- 
From: David McReynolds 
To: Bill Koehnlein 
Sent: Tuesday, April 09, 2013 11:50 AM
Subject: Re: Margaret Thatcher 1925-2013


I'm sending this to the EdgeLeft list because most (not all) of the US commentariat has declared Maggie a quasi saint, including the sometimes level headed Chris Matthews. This piece helps to set the record straight and will remind us of why there is no state funeral in Britain for Maggie.

My own comment would be that while she was, politically, shrewd and adept, in serving her class, it is unfair to compare her to Reagan, an inept President whose fame rests largely on a forgetful media, not on the basis of his factual record. The left made the mistake of saying we had a bad actor for President. In fact he was born to play the role of President and did it with great skill. What he wasn't born to do was govern.

David


On Mon, Apr 8, 2013 at 1:58 PM, Bill Koehnlein <[email protected]> wrote:

  Margaret Thatcher 1925-2013

  [She harmed a lot of people and her death came none too soon; too bad
  it didn't come forty years ago. Good riddance to one of the more
  repugnant figures of the late-twentieth century. --BK]

  The Guardian (UK)
  April 8, 2013
  http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2013/apr/08/margaret-thatcher-death-etiquette


  Margaret Thatcher and Misapplied Death Etiquette

  The dictate that one "not speak ill of the dead" is (at best)
  appropriate for private individuals, not influential public figures.

  by Glenn Greenwald

  News of Margaret Thatcher's death this morning instantly and
  predictably gave rise to righteous sermons on the evils of speaking
  ill of her. British Labour MP Tom Watson decreed: "I hope that people
  on the left of politics respect a family in grief today." Following in
  the footsteps of Santa Claus, Steve Hynd quickly compiled a list of
  all the naughty boys and girls "on the left" who dared to express
  criticisms of the dearly departed Prime Minister, warning that he
  "will continue to add to this list throughout the day". Former Tory MP
  Louise Mensch, with no apparent sense of irony, invoked precepts of
  propriety to announce: "Pygmies of the left so predictably
  embarrassing yourselves, know this: not a one of your leaders will
  ever be globally mourned like her."

  This demand for respectful silence in the wake of a public figure's
  death is not just misguided but dangerous. That one should not speak
  ill of the dead is arguably appropriate when a private person dies,
  but it is wildly inappropriate for the death of a controversial public
  figure, particularly one who wielded significant influence and
  political power. "Respecting the grief" of Thatcher's family members
  is appropriate if one is friends with them or attends a wake they
  organize, but the protocols are fundamentally different when it comes
  to public discourse about the person's life and political acts. I made
  this argument at length last year when Christopher Hitchens died and a
  speak-no-ill rule about him was instantly imposed (a rule he, more
  than anyone, viciously violated), and I won't repeat that argument
  today; those interested can read my reasoning here.

  But the key point is this: those who admire the deceased public figure
  (and their politics) aren't silent at all. They are aggressively
  exploiting the emotions generated by the person's death to create
  hagiography. Typifying these highly dubious claims about Thatcher was
  this (appropriately diplomatic) statement from President Obama: "The
  world has lost one of the great champions of freedom and liberty, and
  America has lost a true friend." Those gushing depictions can be quite
  consequential, as it was for the week-long tidal wave of unbroken
  reverence that was heaped on Ronald Reagan upon his death, an episode
  that to this day shapes how Americans view him and the political ideas
  he symbolized. Demanding that no criticisms be voiced to counter that
  hagiography is to enable false history and a propagandistic
  whitewashing of bad acts, distortions that become quickly ossified and
  then endure by virtue of no opposition and the powerful emotions
  created by death. When a political leader dies, it is irresponsible in
  the extreme to demand that only praise be permitted but not
  criticisms.

  Whatever else may be true of her, Thatcher engaged in incredibly
  consequential acts that affected millions of people around the world.
  She played a key role not only in bringing about the first Gulf War
  but also using her influence to publicly advocate for the 2003 attack
  on Iraq. She denounced Nelson Mandela and his ANC as "terrorists",
  something even David Cameron ultimately admitted was wrong. She was a
  steadfast friend to brutal tyrants such as Augusto Pinochet, Saddam
  Hussein and Indonesian dictator General Suharto ("One of our very best
  and most valuable friends"). And as my Guardian colleague Seumas Milne
  detailed last year, "across Britain Thatcher is still hated for the
  damage she inflicted – and for her political legacy of rampant
  inequality and greed, privatisation and social breakdown."

  To demand that all of that be ignored in the face of one-sided
  requiems to her nobility and greatness is a bit bullying and
  tyrannical, not to mention warped. As David Wearing put it this
  morning in satirizing these speak-no-ill-of-the-deceased moralists:
  "People praising Thatcher's legacy should show some respect for her
  victims. Tasteless." Tellingly, few people have trouble understanding
  the need for balanced commentary when the political leaders disliked
  by the west pass away. Here, for instance, was what the Guardian
  reported upon the death last month of Hugo Chavez:

      To the millions who detested him as a thug and charlatan, it will
  be occasion to bid, vocally or discreetly, good riddance.

  Nobody, at least that I know of, objected to that observation on the
  ground that it was disrespectful to the ability of the Chavez family
  to mourn in peace. Any such objections would have been invalid. It was
  perfectly justified to note that, particularly as the Guardian also
  explained that "to the millions who revered him – a third of the
  country, according to some polls – a messiah has fallen, and their
  grief will be visceral." Chavez was indeed a divisive and
  controversial figure, and it would have been reckless to conceal that
  fact out of some misplaced deference to the grief of his family and
  supporters. He was a political and historical figure and the need to
  accurately portray his legacy and prevent misleading hagiography
  easily outweighed precepts of death etiquette that prevail when a
  private person dies.

  Exactly the same is true of Thatcher. There's something distinctively
  creepy - in a Roman sort of way - about this mandated ritual that our
  political leaders must be heralded and consecrated as saints upon
  death. This is accomplished by this baseless moral precept that it is
  gauche or worse to balance the gushing praise for them upon death with
  valid criticisms. There is absolutely nothing wrong with loathing
  Margaret Thatcher or any other person with political influence and
  power based upon perceived bad acts, and that doesn't change simply
  because they die. If anything, it becomes more compelling to
  commemorate those bad acts upon death as the only antidote against a
  society erecting a false and jingoistically self-serving history.


  --
  "Only when the last tree has died and the last river been poisoned and
  the last fish been caught will we realize we cannot eat money."
  --Nineteenth century Nēhilawē (Cree) proverb