Saturday, April 22, 2017

We've Seen This Before

When I told my wife, The Doc, that I intended to compare Venezuela today with Mexico during the Revolution, she was immediately supportive and enthusiastic.

“Who in Hell would want to read about that?” she asked.

Hopefully, you. 

It was Karl Marx who said: “History repeats itself, first as tragedy, second as farce.”  In 1915, Mexico descended into a violent and bloody revolution that devastated the country, easily qualifying as a tragedy   Today, Venezuela appears to be starting the process all over again, a sad farce.  Below, are some comparisons of the two countries that seemed pertinent, at least to me.  Venezuela is on the left, Mexico is to the right.

In 1915, President Victoriano Huerta—pictured at right—was rapidly losing control of Mexico.  For decades, the country had been led by a Porfirio Diaz, a dictator who skillfully co-opted power from opponents and used the mineral wealth of the country to finance his one-man rule.  After Díaz was finally deposed, a freely elected (and innocent) president did not last long before being murdered by Huerta, a follower of Diaz, who then seized power and attempted to rule.  Unfortunately—for both Mexico and for himself—he was not equal to his predecessor and the country descended into war.

From 1999 to 2013, former military officer, Hugo Chavez, was Venezuela's leader.  Despite vast income from petroleum, Chavez ruined the country’s market economy and moved the country closer to socialism while eliminating most civil rights.  Upon his death, his hand-picked successor, Nicolas Maduro—a former truck driver and labor leader—took over as president.  Today, Venezuela may be the "richest poor" country on Earth.

As the people of the Mexico turned increasingly against him, President Huerta decided to use the military to maintain power.  He told his Congress that he would have peace at any price, meaning he would spend enough to make the army big and powerful enough to crush his political opponents.  One of the reasons the eventual revolution became so violent and bloody was that Huerta greatly expanded the military, whose members frequently deserted and took their newly-purchased weaponry with them.

Eventually, Huerta began conscripting incredible numbers of men, sometimes by simply picking men out of crowds at fairs or public events.  At one point, over 180 priests were conscripted and forced into service (even the sixty who were found to have venereal disease).

Maduro has a small, but fiercely loyal army.  During the Chavez rule, the military attempted a coup, and when it failed, Chavez ruthlessly purged the army of all but the most intensely loyal military leaders.  Since the army is now not large enough to quell the growing public demonstrations, Maduro has begun arming citizen militias to help put down the opposition. 

President Huerta rapidly lost control of the situation, so he suppressed newspapers, arrested men in wholesale lots, and began using assassination squads to eliminate his enemies.  When the National Assembly refused to back his actions, Huerta dismissed the assembly and arrested most of them, too.

In the last general election, parties opposing Maduro’s Socialist Party won a majority in the National Assembly.  The Supreme Court refused to seat enough of the newly elected officials that the opposition was denied a majority.   After months of public protest, the politicians were finally seated, but the Supreme Court stripped the body of all legislative powers and Maduro ordered the treasury to withhold the Assembly’s paychecks.

While Chavez had already closed most opposition newspapers and radio stations earlier, President Maduro has found a few news outlets to target.  CNN en Espanol was shut down recently, and the government refuses to let the New York Times reopen their office in Caracas.  A lot of news reporting about Venezuela today comes from neighboring Colombian or Brazilian-owned news sources.

You can easily imagine what all the fighting did to the people of Mexico.  As trains were used exclusively for military transport, crops rotted in the fields since there was no way to transport them to the cities.  With so little food available, food prices climbed dramatically.  With tax revenues falling, Huerta increasingly turned to his treasury department's printing presses to finance his government.  The resulting inflation eliminated the savings of the small middle class and the lack of hard currency effectively destroyed what was left of the economy.

When Maduro came to power, the country had $30 billion in reserve, despite falling oil revenue.  Petroleum accounts for over half of the country’s annual GDP.  Today, the cash reserve has shrunk to less than $10 billion, which is just enough to meet this year’s debt payments.  To finance operations within the country, the government printing presses run around the clock and to  discourage the black market, Maduro refuses to print bills larger than 100 Bolivars.  (This is despite the fact that they actually cost more to print than they are worth—Maybe, this only makes sense if you are a socialist.)

Shoppers lug suitcases of bills to stores, where clerks cannot fit the wads of bills into cash register tills, so they dump them into boxes.  There is little fear that the notes, individually worth about the same as fast food napkins, will be stolen.

While employment is dropping, there is one occupation that is growing in number:  You can now be paid for standing in line for someone waiting to buy food or medicine.  It has been estimated that in any given line, half of those waiting are bachaqueras (black marketeers) or those being paid by them to hold a place in line.  Fully half of the limited food available in the government run stores ends up being sold on the black market by people whose legal salaries might be less than the roughly $25 a month—the official minimum wage.  Large numbers of the middle class—doctors, teachers, accountants—have quit their jobs and turned to the black market to earn their living.

Since food could not be sold or transported, and since increasingly large armies stole livestock and conscripted farm workers, agriculture in Mexico crashed.  Hundreds of thousands of Mexicans starved.  An even larger number fled the country, most of them moving north into the United States.  Without sufficient workers, mines shut down and quickly flooded.  Many factories and railroads became military targets and were destroyed in the wars that engulfed Mexico for years.

Venezuela has large agricultural assets, but they have not been encouraged lately.  With a seemingly endless source of oil revenue, it was simpler for the country to just import food.  Until recently, more than half the country’s food supplies have been imported.  Today, food shortages are acute.  The average Venezuelan has lost 20 pounds since Maduro came to power.  This is called the ‘Caracas Diet’.  As you can see from his photo at right, Maduro is not on the diet.

Venezuela should be ranked among the more prosperous countries, since it possesses the world’s largest oil reserves, surpassing even Saudi Arabia.  Both countries, charter members of OPEC, have roughly equal populations.  And that is about where the similarities end.  (Well, they are also the two cheapest places on Earth in which to fill the tank of your car.  In Saudi Arabia, a gallon of gas costs about $.75, while in Venezuela it will set you back about a nickel.  Actually, it is less than four cents a gallon.  In Venezuela, gasoline is more prevalent and cheaper than drinking water.)

Venezuela also has the world’s fastest contracting economy, the second highest murder rate, horrific shortages of medicine, and rising rates of malnutrition that rival the worst countries of Africa.  The IMF is predicting that inflation, currently in triple digits, might reach four digits by the end of this year.

As the economy of Mexico shrank, the various armies began looting the property of foreign-owned factories and warehouses.  Before long, the Mexican government nationalized (the polite way of saying ‘stole’) foreign-owned property.  Without new investment in those factories, production halted.  Up to that point, Mexico had been the producer of a significant amount of the world’s silver, and when production dropped there, it caused a spike in the commodity’s price.

Between Hugo Chavez and Nicolas Maduro, it might be easier to list the foreign-owned assets that have not been nationalized.  Fully 10% of the S&P 500 firms have lost property in Venezuela.  Ford, IBM, McDonalds, Coca-Cola, Pepsi, Mondelez (Oreos), United, Lufthansa, Delta, American Airlines, and DirecTV have all lost property, and cut back operations in Venezuela.  This week, the assets of General Motors were seized, eliminating the jobs of 2,678 employees.  There are signs that the next corporation whose assets will be “liberated” are those of the Spanish communication company, Telefonica.

With many of the essential oil field services provided by the same foreign corporations who have had their assets increasingly attacked by Maduro government, petroleum production has begun to diminish, particularly on the offshore oil platforms.  As oil production falls, so does income to the Maduro government.  One can easily predict that there will be ecological disasters in the Venezuelan oil fields in the near future.

After Mexico’s violent revolution, it took decades before the country had a stable government.  If Venezuela follows the same pattern, the same thing might well happen.

Or maybe not, perhaps this is all coincidence.  Remember, this historian is essentially just a poor dumb ol’ country boy.  As Mark Twain supposedly said—and absolutely did not—“History doesn’t repeat itself, but it does rhyme.”

Saturday, April 15, 2017

Far From the First Time, Part 2

Two weeks ago, I wrote about the traditional relationship between the President of the United States and the press.  What most Americans tend to believe are unique or worsening conditions, are more often the norm across American history.  The same can be said about the record of presidential candidates changing their minds once elected.  Presidential flip flops are the norm, not the exception. 

The term ‘flip flop’ is not universal in politics.  England uses "U-Turn", while Australia says "backflip", but the meaning is fairly constant.  A politician has performed a somersault and changed his position—usually while maintaining that both positions are somehow consistent.

The first use of the term seems to be when President Grover Cleveland changed his mind about a treaty between the United States and Great Britain concerning fishing in Canadian waters.  The Canadians had been confiscating the fishing boats of Americans who violated the treaty.  When Cleveland, cognizant that America was in the wrong, sought a peaceful settlement of the issue, newspaper cartoons appeared showing the president as a fish ‘flip-flopping” on the issue—and the term stuck.

Within two years, the New York Times had an article about a Tammany Hall politician running for the office of District Attorney just two years after unsuccessfully running against Tammany Hall.  From that point on, the term was used regularly in the press. 

Frequent presidential reverses existed long before the term did, however.  President Jefferson had denounced both Presidents Washington and Adams for their support of a National Bank, believing such a bank would encourage national debt.  However, Jefferson didn’t hesitate to borrow money to buy the Louisiana Purchase from Napoleon.  With a down payment of only 20%, Jefferson had a London bank issue bonds to raise the remainder of the money.

As a presidential candidate, Abraham Lincoln promised no radical acts against either the institution of slavery or actions against the South.  Lincoln’s speeches made it plain that he was against freeing the slaves, favoring instead a policy of “compensated emancipation” and forced recolonization of Africa.  Since the government could not possibly come up with the funds to buy the estimated four million slaves (nor the colossal number of ships necessary to transport them), you have to wonder how serious Lincoln was about this campaign promise.

Lincoln also promised not to use force for domestic purposes and to support states’ rights.  During his inaugural address in 1861, he vowed to not use federal troops within the states, saying that such an act would be “the gravest of crimes” against the Constitution.  This promise endured for slightly more than a month.

Wars feature prominently in failed presidential promises.  Woodrow Wilson ran for reelection in 1916 on the campaign slogan of “He Kept Us Out of War!”.  Ignoring that Wilson would in less than six months from the election ask Congress for a Declaration of War against Germany, the President had already sent an invading army into Mexico.

Ironically, in his speech to the joint houses of Congress, Wilson said that the world must be “made safe for democracy”.  Before the year was out, Wilson would help pass laws that saw the biggest roll back of civil liberties and freedoms in our nation’s history.   

In the election of 1932, while the nation was sliding into the Great Depression, Franklin Delano Roosevelt promised the voters that he would not only cut government spending, but that he would balance the budget and eliminate extraneous and unnecessary federal agencies.  Roosevelt made so many contradictory promises during the campaign season that his opponent, President Hoover, likened FDR to a “chameleon on plaid”. 

Once elected, President Roosevelt not only tripled federal spending, he initiated over 100 new government offices, so many that even his supporters referred to them as the ‘alphabet agencies’.  (A surprising number of which still exist today.)

In 1960, John F. Kennedy ran against the military policies of President Eisenhower.  Touting that he would eliminate the ‘missile gap’—a phrase he coined— with Russia, he played upon the American fears of a nuclear holocaust during the darkest days of the Cold War.  What Nixon knew, but because of security restrictions could not divulge, was that the United States actually had a large technical lead against the Russians in missile technology.  (Today, with recently released documents, there is evidence that Kennedy knew the truth, having already been briefed on American missile superiority.)  Once president, Kennedy stopped talking about nuclear missiles and focused on a military buildup of conventional military hardware instead.

After losing to Kennedy, perhaps Richard Nixon learned from the experience.  After campaigning strenuously against the Vietnam War and President Johnson’s attempts to end the war through a negotiated peace.  As a candidate, Nixon said the only way America should end a war was "to win it."  Once he became president, Nixon greatly expanded the war while negotiating what he called “Peace with Honor”.  Today, polls show that more Americans associate the war with Nixon than Johnson. 

The presidency of Ronald Reagan is remembered as the epitome of conservative policy, but as the governor of California, Reagan raised taxes and helped pass liberal laws on abortion.  While running for the presidency, Reagan called for tax cuts, and while he did cut taxes in 1981, less remembered is that he raised them in 1982.

When George H. W. Bush stated strongly at the 1988 Republican National Convention, “Read My Lips—No New Taxes!”, he most likely doomed his reelection chances after raising them only two years later.  His quote became a political joke that eventually may be the only thing remembered about his presidency by most Americans.

In 2008, all of the candidates—Republican and Democrat—were against gay marriage.  In an amazingly short period of time, this became an issue that even conservative candidates would dodge, usually by saying that it was “an issue best left to states”—a phrase that is political shorthand for putting your hands over your ears and yelling “Nah! Nah! Nah! Nah!  Next question!”

Also in 2008, Barack Obama urged his opponent, John McCain, to accept federal campaign financing, an act that would guarantee both candidates $84 million dollars to fund their election attempts while imposing rigid financial restrictions on donors.  Obama quickly dropped this proposal when his campaign treasury began to receive larger than expected donations.  When Obama refused to accept federal funds, he became the first presidential candidate to refuse federal financing since 1976, when the campaign reform laws were passed.

We should accept that every politician will change position on issues after the election.  There is probably nothing wrong with this.  As John Maynard Keynes once said, “When the facts change, I change my mind.  What do you do, sir?”

Changing your mind as conditions change is okay.  What we, as voters, need to challenge is the politician who denies that he has changed his position, that his new stance on political issues is consistent with his old stance.

It is okay when voters believe a politician’s lies—this is business as usual.  It is not okay when the politicians start believing themselves.

Saturday, April 8, 2017

Hammurabi and the Supreme Court

Almost four thousand years ago, Hammurabi was the first Babylonian king of the first Babylonian Empire. At a time when most of the Tigris-Euphrates Valley was made up of little more than small city-states, Hammurabi created an empire from a previously insignificant city on the banks of the Euphrates.

While Sin-Muballit, Hammurabi’s father, had already begun to push the boundaries of Babylon a little outward, it was only after his abdication and Hammurabi's ascension to the throne that the flourishing Babylonian culture birthed ideas that have remained useful and vibrant to current day.  For a millennium and a half—until the conquest of Alexander the Great—Babylon remained the cultural and religious center of Mesopotamia. 

As king, Hammurabi's first project was a thirty year-long period of public works—something that today we would probably refer to as "investing in infrastructure".  He reinforced the protective walls around the city, improved the city's temples, and built irrigation canals.  (Sorry if this intro is a little long, but we historians tend to Babylon.)

Until Hammurabi became king, Mesopotamia had been a collection of city-states, with each jostling for power and wealth.  When the nearby kingdom of Elam tried to start a war between Babylon and Larsa, Hammurabi was able to convince the Larsan king that the Elamites were playing both realms like a drum.  (Evidently this was fairly standard behavior in ancient Mesopotamia, since the language used the same word for both diplomat and spy.)

Reluctant to start a war, Hammurabi went to his temples, where the priests consulted the entrails of sacrificial beasts.  Confident that Shamash—the Sun God—was in favor, Hammurabi prepared for war.

Larsa and Babylon became allies and moved to attack Kish, a minor city-state within the Elamite kingdom.  Surprisingly, Hammurabi did not destroy Kish, but laid siege to the city.  After the defenders took refuge behind the city walls, the Babylonian army built a wooden dam across the Euphrates.  Once sufficient water collected behind the dam, the wooden structure was pulled down, and the resulting flood destroyed the city’s irrigation canals and surrounding farms.  Faced with starvation, Kish surrendered.

Since the usual method of warfare was to burn a defending town, this was—by comparison—a kinder and gentler form of war.  Grateful to be spared, the defending soldiers of Kish willingly joined the army of Babylon.  Almost immediately, Hammurabi turned his newly enlarged army against his ally, Larsa.  Surviving letters indicate that Hammurabi was angry that Larsa had not fully contributed to the war, at least not to the satisfaction of Hammurabi.

Note: You are probably wondering how historians know so much about events that happened four millennia ago.  Mesopotamia had a writing system, cuneiform impressions in a clay tablet.  A surprising number of these survive, but we are especially indebted to the library of Mari, one of the city-states conquered by Hammurabi.  Someone burned the library, turning all the clay tablets into hardened bricks.  This is the only time in history that historians are happy a library burned.  By far my favorite letter in the collection is from a king to his son, the acting governor of a province.  The king tells his son to spend more time governing and less time in the harem.

The conflict against Kish set the pattern for most of the next decade.  Hammurabi repeatedly used the resources and soldiers of a conquered territory to attack the next city-state—a pattern he continued until he had conquered or controlled most of the territory of Mesopotamia.  Countries too remote to be occupied (such as Assyria) nevertheless were forced to pay annual tributes for peace.  While neither the Pax Babylonia he imposed (nor his kingdom) would long endure after his death in 1750 B.C., the palace of Babylon would be envied by wanna-be kings for centuries.

Hammurabi left something else behind that is far more important than the ruins of Babylon:  He left behind the first codified set of laws.  The Code of Hammurabi is 282 legal precedents engraved onto a seven foot basalt stele, located today in the Louvre Museum in Paris.  (And it is magnificent:  If you go to the Louvre, spend your time with the Vermeers and the works of Velasquez and Goya and definitely see Hammurabi’s stele.  Forget the Mona Lisa, however:  it is only a very small painting hidden behind a vast sea of Japanese tourists with cameras.)

At the top of the stele, stands Hammurabi receiving the laws from a throned Shamash, the sun god.  If this reminds you of Moses receiving the Ten Commandments, scholars are still debating whether Hammurabi's Code was the basis of the commandments found in the book of Exodus (or whether both sets of laws were derived from even earlier legal codes). 

The stele itself was originally probably located in front of the temple in Babylon.  After Hammurabi’s death, the Elamites brought the monument to present day Iran, where a French archaeologist found it in 1901. 

These laws cover every aspect of Babylonian life.  They set payments/salaries and punishments for noblemen, freedmen, and slaves.  Roughly a third of the laws deal with contracts, while other sections cover military service and household duties.  Importantly, the laws include a presumption of innocence and the right of the accused to confront witnesses.   One law specifies that bad judges should be fined and permanently removed from the bench.  This is still a better legal code than you will find in half the civilized world (or even in France).

In the days of Hammurabi, there were multiple copies of the Code and they were available in every city.  While most citizens were not literate, the copies were available to everyone—and that is what is important.  Hammurabi was effectively saying, “Look! The laws are written in stone. Literally!"

This meant that the law was the same for everyone and it could not change just because some official wanted to administer the law for his own interpretation, or to give preference to his friends.  Justice demanded uniform enforcement for everyone.  As a human invention, that ranks right up there with fire and pockets on shirts. 

One of the more difficult concepts I tried to teach my students was that peace was never the absence of fighting: it is the presence of justice.  In a very real way, Hammurabi brought peace to Mesopotamia.

I was reminded of all this last month as I saw a candidate for the Supreme Court undergoing questioning in front of a Senate Committee.  One of the senators asked the prospective judge if he would pledge to support the “little guy”.  Obviously, the judicial candidate declined, saying instead, that he would support the law.

If Hammurabi were to remake that 4,000 year old legal document to be in line with today's penchant for politically correct thought, it would be written in chalk...On a rubber blackboard.

Saturday, April 1, 2017

Presidential Golf

The president plays too much golf.

Newspaper editors have been saying that for slightly over a hundred years.  About the time I was just learning to read, papers were saying that about President Eisenhower.  Ike did indeed play a lot of golf.  I can remember reading a bumper sticker from the 1956 election, "Ben Hogan For President. If We're Going To Have A Golfer—Let's Have A Good One!”

This was patently unfair to Eisenhower' since he did not start the tradition of presidential golf.  While the founding fathers weren’t golfers, they might have been if courses had been available.  Washington, John Adams, and Jefferson were enthusiastic collectors of marbles, so, who knows?—they might have enjoyed playing with bigger balls, too.

Most of the history books record that William Howard Taft was the first president to play golf, but this is a mistake.  President William McKinley played as early as 1897, but since the average voter didn’t trust a foreign game (it was a nativistic era) and also couldn’t afford to play, McKinley kept the news to himself. 

From various letters, we know that McKinley’s successor, Theodore Roosevelt, played golf several times in his life, but no one knows if he ever sneaked out of the White House to play a round or two.

As I wrote a few weeks ago, Teddy Roosevelt understood how to use photographs to manipulate the press.  He was extremely careful about what the photos would show and how his image would be presented to the public.  It would take an entire evening to browse through the countless photos of Teddy shooting, fishing, riding horses, hunting, or making impassioned speeches.  There is not one single photo, however, that shows him playing golf.

Theodore Roosevelt thought that golf was a game for the wealthy, and he thought the voters would be turned off by a foreign game reserved for the elite.  Aware that the Democrats were trying to disparage the Republican Party as the party of the rich, he even warned his Republican successor against being seen playing golf.

It would seem incredible that anyone would care one way or the other about your playing golf, but I have received hundreds of letters protesting it.  I myself play tennis, but that game is a little more familiar; besides, you never saw a photograph of me playing tennis, I am careful about that; photographs of me on horseback, yes; tennis, no.  And golf is fatal.”  Theodore Roosevelt writing to William Howard Taft, 1908.

Taft, however, would not change his mind.  “Golf is in the interest of good health and good manners.”  More importantly, he liked the game.   He specifically endorsed the game as suitable for middle aged and older men.  (Now that I have retired, I intend to follow his advice—it is my patriotic duty.)

Note.  In hindsight, I have to admit that perhaps Teddy had a point about Scotland.  There is something weird about people who invent golf, perfect whiskey, wear kilts, and like bagpipe music.

The way presidents played the game tells us a lot about the character of the men.  Taft never really wanted to be president—he was far more comfortable in a court room.  He played a game strictly by the rules, and would never allow other players to give him an easy putt.  He once took 12 strokes to exit a sand trap, and recorded every stroke.  He still holds something of a record at the Kebo Valley Golf Club—he took 27 strokes to clear a par five hole. 

Taft’s love of the law didn’t prevent him from celebrating when the new Connecticut Avenue bridge across the Potomac River finally opened.  This gave him a direct quick route to the Chevy Chase Country Club, saving enough time that the president frequently took afternoons off in order to enjoy a quick nine holes.

Taft wasn’t a great golfer (he had a 20 handicap), but he frequently played a round in the low 90’s despite his 300—pound weight.  Woodrow Wilson, was obsessed with the game, was athletically fit…and almost never broke a hundred. 

President Wilson played almost daily, racking up an astonishing 1200 rounds of golf while president.  He even played in the winter, painting his balls black or red so he could find them in the snow.  If the duties during the day prevented the president from slipping away from the White House, he equipped his caddy with a flashlight and played at night.  One such round of golf wasn’t finished until 5:00 in the morning! 

Wilson played for the fun of it, usually not bothering to keep score and he is the only president who regularly was accompanied by his wife.  Not only was Edith Wilson the first First Lady to play the game, she had met Woodrow on a golf course. 

Warren G. Harding preferred poker to golf, but he played a few rounds as President.  As far as can be determined, he was the first president who used to wager on his game.  This is not surprising when you consider that Harding once bet—and lost—all the White House china in a poker game.  Harding turned part of the White House lawn into an impromptu driving range after he trained his dog, Laddie Boy to retrieve balls.

When Calvin Coolidge became president in 1923, he played at golf, but while he enjoyed getting out of the White House for an afternoon, he wasn’t passionate about the sport.  When he left the White House, he kindly left his clubs behind as a gift to President Hoover.  The gesture was wasted, since Hoover, like Harry Truman and Jimmy Carter, never played the game while president.

President Eisenhower loved golf and played an average of 150 days a year, racking up a respectable 800 rounds while president.  When he could not get to the course, he practiced on a driving range he established in the White House Basement and he had Robert Trent Jones design and install a putting green on the White House Lawn.  There are pictures of Eisenhower walking through the White House holding a pitching wedge.  (Unlike Taft, Eisenhower always accepted courtesy putts!)

More than any previous president, it was Ike who popularized the sport of golf with the American public.  Ike played with professionals, and as his duties took him across the country, he found time to play on local courses.  The press loved it, publicized his game, and influenced thousands of young men to take up the sport.  Ike finally got tired of reporters asking about his game, and jokingly said that he was going to pass a law making it illegal to ask the president his golf score.

On the 17th hole at the Augusta National Golf Club, a loblolly pine was on the inside curve of a dogleg fairway.  Ike hit that tree so many times that he lobbied to have it removed, but the board of governors refused.  For over 50 years, the Eisenhower Tree bedeviled golfers—it was under that tree that Tiger Woods injured his knee and damaged his career.  When an ice storm in February 2014 destroyed the tree, the officials at the Dalmeny Golf Club in Scotland donated an acorn from a tree that Ike had planted in 1946 when the victorious general was given the freedom of the city.

John F. Kennedy loved the game, but faced something of a problem.  While campaigning, he had made frequent jokes about Ike playing so much golf.  JFK played a great game——his average was in the 80’s—but he occasionally played in the low 70’s despite a bad back.  Professionals who played with him said he had a beautiful swing.

President Johnson played regularly, and had an "unorthodox" game.  He loved the feel of a good shot, but had no interest in keeping score.  If it took 600 strokes to achieve what he wanted, this was just fine.  (And LBJ took politicians with him, negotiating legislation on the fairway).

Nixon played regularly until Watergate.  After the press began following his every move, an obviously paranoid president gave up the game, even removing the Eisenhower putting green.  From then on, he sought relaxation by bowling in the White House basement.

Gerald Ford was actually a good golfer—he even had a hole-in-one at the Memphis Golf Classic.  Unfortunately, during a game he sliced the ball, hitting a spectator.  The next time the president played, the crowd of spectators was enormous, almost guaranteeing that another spectator would be hit by a ball.  As television comics made jokes, the crowds continued to grow.  Ford’s frequent golf partner, Bob Hope, quipped that while the president had turned golf into a contact sport, he wasn’t afraid to play with Ford, since he had made sure that he and his caddie had the same blood type.

Ronald Reagan didn’t play often or very well, once admitting to a reporter that his best game just barely broke 100.  Despite not playing very often while president, he found pleasure and relaxation putting.  To the delight of the traveling press corps, Reagan frequently putted down the aisle of Air Force One.  If it is your plane, you can do what you want, after all!.

President Bush—both of them—were known for playing golf a little differently.  For them, it was aerobic golf, where the time required to go around the course was more important than the score.  Their average was about one hour and forty—five minutes for 18 holes.  (This is just about equal to  the time it takes me to play 9 holes and lose 3 balls). 

When President George Herbert Walker Bush (41) hit a ball a little short, he'd usually yell, “Power Outage!”  And once, while hitting a ball a little long, he yelled, “Oh golly darn!  Get up there!”  Anyone who has played golf with me can testify that is not the way every Texan addresses his ball.  I firmly believe that golf balls and bowling balls are steered with profanity.

Bill Clinton made up his own rules.  While most golfers will take an occasional Mulligan (an illegal second chance to hit a ball properly), President Clinton was famous for taking ‘Billigans’ as often as necessary.  The Secret Service would clear the course ahead of the president, who frequently took six hours and 200 swings to shoot in the 80’s.

President Clinton rebuilt the Eisenhower putting green with the help of Robert Trent Jones, Jr., the son of the designer of the first putting green.  The location of the green has moved a little due to needs of the presidential helicopters.  It is now located under the Hoover Tree.

President Obama played an estimated 320 rounds of golf while president, which puts him in fourth place for the most presidential games—behind Wilson (1200 games), Eisenhower (800), and Clinton (400).  George W. Bush (43) played just 24 games, with the last in 2003.  He quit the game for the rest of his presidency, believing it inappropriate while the nation was at war. 

No one can estimate how many games the current president will play, but I can tell you that Donald Trump owns 17 golf courses.  If he plays each of them four times a year during his term, he will move into fifth place.

We skipped a president—did you notice?  Franklin Delano Roosevelt played no golf while president due to his polio.  FDR’s father built him a private six—hole course when the future president was only six years old.  At the turn of the century, using primitive equipment, he shot in the low 80’s. 

Of all the presidents, President Roosevelt probably had the greatest impact on the game of golf.  While president, through the Works Project Administration, he built over 350 public courses, extending the game to the average American. 

Saturday, March 25, 2017

New Mexico: The Last Hapsburg Colony

New Mexico is a desperately poor state, if it cost a dollar to go around the world, the state treasury couldn't finance a bus trip to Oklahoma.  Our unemployment rate is the highest in the nation, and the most valuable export from the state is newly graduated college students seeking jobs.  The annual exodus of our best and brightest is the educational equivalent to eating your seed corn. 

Recently, I have come to realize that these problems have historical roots that go back much further than I had previously realized.  In fact, roots of the problem go back half a millennium.

It is easy to forget that it wasn't that long ago that New Mexico was part of Mexico for about half a century.  Before that—for about 300 years—this was New Spain, part of the Spanish Empire.  Unfortunately, you can still see the signs.

Spain treated her colonies as assets to be shorn, strip-mined, and squeezed until the last peso had been extracted.  (This is exactly the way Enema U still treats her students—perhaps this is where my Alma Mater learned this trick.)

This extreme protectionism is called the mercantile system.  (Take notes, there will be a quiz next Friday.). Colonies were expected to produce raw materials and to manufacture NOTHING that could be purchased from Spain.  Clothing, wine, metal goods, paper products, tools—anything manufactured you could think of—were forbidden for the Spanish colonies in the New World to make.

The colonies were not even allowed to trade with each other.  These severe limitations not only stalled economic development, but left scars that can still be seen today.  An excellent example is the lack of infrastructure in some of the former Spanish colonies.  There is not—nor has there ever been—a railroad connecting any two of the countries of Central America, and until well within my lifetime, there were almost no highways.  (Actually, Belize, Guatemala, El Salvador, and Nicaragua no longer even have internal railroads: most of the track and rolling stock have been sold as scrap metal.)

The Spanish colonial policy resulted in some curious supply shortages.  Pretend that you live in Santa Fe in the year 1700.  The annual governor’s ball is coming up and you decide you need a new hat.  A local merchant gladly takes your order, and for a small deposit, has one shipped from Spain (it being illegal to manufacture one in the new world).

The merchant will have to wait until the next supply wagons depart from Santa Fe, traveling down the Camino Real to Chihuahua, and then continue on to Mexico City.  This means there will be a couple of months wait, but eventually the ox-drawn wooden carreteras—moving at a pace that would make Congress look productive—begin traveling southward.  A man could easily walk ahead of the oxen for an hour, then spend the rest of the morning taking a nap while waiting for the oxcarts to finally catch up with him.

Once the order finally reaches Mexico City, it will be taken by yet another line of oxcarts making their way eastward to Vera Cruz, the only port on the east side of New Spain allowed to trade with Spain.   (This simplifies tax collection and makes smuggling more difficult.)  Spain, worried about pirates, combined all shipments to and from the New World into single convoys each way—La Flota—each sailing only once a year.  Unfortunately, your order has just missed this year’s convoy, but will certainly be sent next year!

Assuming that the ship (a Spanish ship with a Spanish crew, of course!) carrying your order were to make the perilous crossing of the Atlantic, eventually your order will reach Seville—the only Spanish port allowed to trade with the colonies—and be filled by a merchant licensed by the crown.  When the next convoy finally leaves Spain, your new hat will be subject to an additional tax of 7.5%, the almojarifazgo, an import and export tax.  When the ship finally arrives in Vera Cruz, this is technically an importation, so the almojarifazgo will be charged again

Your hat slowly makes it way from the coast, by oxcarts, to Mexico City, then Chihuahua, and finally back to Santa Fe, where the original merchant charges you an additional 10% sales tax, the alcabala, for your hat.  After a wait of a mere two years, your new hat has finally arrived and you discover that not only can you not afford the costly item, but it’s the wrong size.

Note.  Spanish is the sexiest language—I don't care what the French say.  It is a shame that beautiful words like almojarizgo and alcabala are used to denote taxes.  My favorite word in Spanish is 'estacionamiento'.  Pretend that Ricardo Montalban is saying that in his sultry "rich Corinthian Leather" voice: e-sta-ci-o-na-mi-en-to.  It is not my fault that the word means 'parking lot' and from now on, I think the word should mean: "moonlight reflected off of still ponds".

Obviously, these economic policies stifled colonial development, all but forcing the colonists to turn to smuggling and cheating on taxes.  As revenue to the crown fell, the shortsighted kings behaved exactly like the inbred Hapsburg monarchs they were—they raised taxes and increased economic sanctions...And as revenue continued to decline, they raised taxes again and again. 

The inbred Hapsburg monarchs kept repeating their stupidity until neither they nor the economy could get it up, and both died out.  The new royal family, the Bourbons, abandoned most of the previous economic policies, lowering taxes and freeing trade.  As it does every time this economic relief has been tried, the economy took off, trade increased, and government revenue increased dramatically. 

Unfortunately, the reforms arrived too late to help the impoverished colony at New Mexico, which by that time, had become a royal patronage colony (meaning that the King of Spain paid the expenses of New Mexico, recognizing that it was too impoverished to be self-sufficient).  When Mexico became independent, the king naturally withdrew his patronage, and economic conditions in New Mexico collapsed to the point that even the Catholic Church removed its priests.

Today, New Mexico still wallows in Hapsburg thinking.  The state has high taxes, excessive regulation, and punitive license fees.  We have strong union laws that protect unions that have never (and probably will never) exist in this state.  The only revenue the state could consistently count on was from extracting raw resources—usually oil and natural gas—that we sold to the states that manufactured goods for us. 

Suddenly, the global market is awash in oil and natural gas.  As the price of oil drops below $50 a barrel for oil, our state treasurer has become as nervous as a whore in church.  And just like the Hapsburg monarchs, an impotent state legislature is attempting to balance the budget by raising taxes, creating new fees, and restricting licenses.  

New Mexico is still a patronage colony, even though our "charity" no longer comes from a royal purse.  For every $1 the state pays in federal taxes, it receives $3 from Washington, DC.

To paraphrase Blanche Dubois when she, like New Mexico, began to lose her grip on reality, "We have always depended on the kindness of strangers."

Saturday, March 18, 2017

Will You Take a Dollar?

Recently, I spent the weekend helping someone with an estate sale.  There are companies that will do this for you, but when you learn the prices they charge, unless the estate happens to include a few Picassos or your fabulous collection of Fabergé eggs, you will probably find that after the sale, you end up owing the auctioneers.   The only alternatives are a timely—and insured—home fire or you, yourself, sitting in a garage for a weekend while strangers hand you pocket change.

Besides the emotional toll of collecting, cataloging, and disposing of a loved one’s entire material and cultural history, estate sales are pure living hell.  This is because you have to deal with the scum of the earth—otherwise known as The Public.  (The word would be far more appropriate, and accurately descriptive, if they left out the ‘L’.)

People descended on that garage sale like sharks to chum.  Like attorneys to a wreck on the highway.  Like politicians to a playground.  (If you don’t understand that last one, do a Google News search on ‘Oklahoma politician’ and ‘teenage boy’.  Sure, they were just hanging out—doesn’t everyone hang out with minors in a motel room with illegal drugs?)

Geography had a lot to do with the reason this estate sale was unique.  Though winter was only two weeks ago, this is the Southwest and summer has been in full bloom for the last week and a half.  If we had the sale to do over, we would have worded the signs:  “Estate Sale!  7:00 am until 100 degrees!” 

Second, we could almost see Mexico from the house.  (The neighbors down the street can see Mexico from theirs—Sarah Palin would be so pleased!).  This means that most of the items we sold were loaded into vans and pickups and taken across the border, where within a week, they will be sold in giant flea markets to American tourists, who will bring them back across the border to their homes.  Within a few years, this cycle will be repeated, again and again.  Technically, this falls into the category of recycling.

Several pickup trucks were severely overloaded with Tupperware, mismatched pots and pans, and lawn furniture.  As each hazard to public safety pulled away from the house, I was reminded of that old Texas Truism”  “No truck is fully loaded until you run out of rope.”

This kind of sale is very popular, so people started showing up well before the sale was supposed to start—in one case, a whole day early.  You might as well start the sale at dawn, because that is when people start knocking on your door.  (And some of the earliest shoppers were the ones who bought the most items—in many cases, the most useless items.  We sold items that I wouldn’t have accepted for free:  lids without pots, obsolete electronics, rusty tools, and lawn tools that looked like they had been used to dig the Erie Canal.   I sold half a can of Turtle Wax to a man who was driving a leftover from a Demolition Derby.

We sold old electric appliances to people who didn’t even want to plug them in to see if they still worked!  Stranger yet, more than once, people came back an hour or two later, and bought more.

Some of the people, I suspect, didn’t even really want the things they bought, they just came to haggle over the price.  People who wouldn’t buy four jelly glasses for a dollar would gladly purchase ten for two dollars.  And more often than not, that $50 bill someone paid with was pulled off a roll as fat as the Sunday paper. 

The strangest parts of the day, however, were the questions people asked.

“This 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle in a torn box, which you are selling for a quarter, are all the pieces there?” 

          “I’m not sure, but feel free to count them if you like.”  She bought it.

“Will you have another sale next week?”

          “How often do you think one household can have an estate sale?”

“Will this $3.00 bug zapper kill mosquitoes?”

          “Yes, sir,” I said, thinking it would kill an elephant if swung it hard enough. 

“Will you take two dollars for this? asked the man who was holding an item clearly marked for one dollar.

          “Why, yes, I will.  And for you, I’ll sell you three of them for five dollars.”

“Can you hold this for me until I ask my wife if it is okay to buy this?”

          “Why, certainly, I’ll hold that dollar TV tray in reserve, just for you.”

“Is this used?”

          “Probably, this is an estate sale.   But, if you want to be sure, you’ll have to ask the original owner.”

“Is this the estate sale?”

          “Nope.  This is an outdoor department store.”

No, I won’t sell the table holding all the items that are for sale.   No, we don’t have any chain saws.  Yes, everything is for sale.  And so forth and so on.  We ran out of stuff to sell before we ran out of buyers.  If the neighbors had been on vacation, we might have extended the sale.

Halfway through the day, I remember thinking, “I’m not going to do this to my kids, I’ll organize my crap before I die.”  Then I remember all the times they woke me up in the middle of the night just to tell me they had been visited by the dark angel of projectile vomiting.  I remember the school meetings where a teacher had asked me why I was raising junior terrorists.  I remember….

My new plan is to dent all the mixing bowls, chip the Pyrex, and start hiding cash in the spines of selected books.  Anything that comes in a set of four or more, needs to lose at least one of the pieces.  The Doc has promised to do her part by buying more shoes.  My sons, What’s-His-Name and The-Other-One, should not be denied the pleasure having of their own estate sale. 

Note to my sons:  A few of the estimated 10,000 books in this house—that you refused to read—are fairly rare first editions.  Can you tell which ones?

Saturday, March 11, 2017

Of Course I Do!

You may have missed the news stories, but Congress has balanced the budget, eliminated the foreign trade gap, and solved the problems with health care.  Peace is finally at hand in the Middle East, North Korea, and Chicago. 

While I, too, missed those news stories, all of the above must have occurred, since our government once again has time to discuss the vital problem of 'who uses which bathroom'.  As soon as this life-threatening crisis is solved, I have no doubt they can get around to finally settling the issue of which way toilet paper should unroll. 

Is it just me, or does it seem strange that most of the controversy about transgendered people's using public restrooms comes from states where a significant portion of the plumbing is still outside, and thus, is already "unisex"?  Perhaps we need a new rule:  If you are still worried about keeping four, six, and eight-legged critters out of your bathroom, don’t sweat the two-legged users.

My mother worked extremely hard to teach me manners, and at least half of them stuck, so I will, if I remember to do so, accommodate your request to be treated as the gender of your choice.  This just seems like good manners (and, after all, it’s really none of my business).

Unfortunately, manners will not solve all the possible problems.  I don’t know—or care—how the Olympics will keep men from competing as women.  I have no idea how the Small Business Administration will keep men from applying for preferential loans designed for female entrepreneurs.  All of this is not my monkey and not my circus.  I’ll just sit in the bleachers and eat peanuts while others solve this problem (or attempt to solve it).  I’ll be easy to find:  I’ll be the one laughing his ass off.

As a small gesture of cooperation, I know of an expert who might be able to solve this problem:  We should ask Lyle.

When I was a grad student in Anthropology, I met Lyle.  He looked exactly as you would expect an anthropologist to look:  tanned, tall, skinny as a flagpole, and dressed (every day of the year!) in shorts, t-shirt, and well-worn boondocker boots.  (And Lyle, while technically brilliant, was as crazy as a bucket of frogs). 

Lyle believed in reincarnation, and had vivid memories of all of his past lives.  While Lyle is not the only person I have ever met to have claimed this, he is the only one who never claimed to have been a king, or someone prominent in one of his previous incarnations.  While I’m still not a believer, on one hot afternoon, as we were carefully sifting through hot sand in a field school at an archaeological site, it was kind of fascinating to listen to Lyle's telling about freezing to death while marching out of Moscow with Napoleon. 

Lyle had a "small" problem with many of his professors.  For a group of anthropologists who taught that all cultures and religious beliefs should be equally respected, they had a lot of difficulties actually working with someone a little different.  (Actually, over time I learned that the more an academic or a department claimed to be tolerant of others, the more obviously they weren’t.  It is easy to find whole departments in which everyone comes from the same region of the US, is the same race, has similar political beliefs, and where no one is a veteran, and none has any work experience outside of academia.  Some of that is natural—and some of it is unconsciously deliberate.  These are nice people, but at the same time, universities are the most sexist, racist, and status-conscious place I have ever worked.)

To his credit, the department head of Anthropology gathered the faculty together, chewed everyone out for their reluctance to work with Lyle, and then forced them to draw lots.  The winner got Lyle as a grad assistant.  Of course, the department head made damn sure his own name wasn’t in the hat before he drew the "winning" name.

I took a seminar class where Lyle was one of the students.  An anthropology seminar is a class in which, at the prompting of a professor, students passionately argue about how many angels can dance on the head of a pin.  Every class, we would sit around a huge table, using a different book of the week and discussing the author’s definition of culture. 

Note.  I can save you a couple of years of reading and a small fortune in tuition money by telling you that anything is a definition of culture.  There are hundreds and hundreds of definitions, none of which will give you any insight as to what culture really is.  The final exam in that class was an essay—write your own definition of culture using a new metaphor.  That particular day, an obnoxious Ray Stevens song was repeating endlessly in my brain, so I filled a Blue Book explaining how a highway convoy was the perfect metaphor for culture.  If you think I got an A, that’s a big ten-four, good buddy.

One week, somehow the class got on the subject of ghetto sub-culture and the discussion got a little heated as a young African-American student angrily defended her position.

“You have no idea,” she proclaimed, “what it is like to be a Black woman raising children in Harlem!”

“Of course, I do!” thundered Lyle.  “And I did it during the Great Depression!”

I have never seen a discussion shut down so quickly!  Students—who would have argued over even the day of the week—just sat there with their mouths open.  Remember, all cultures and beliefs are equivalently valid…

Obviously, we need to get Lyle’s opinion about bathrooms.  If we need input from multiple points of view, the man is a whole committee.

It wouldn’t be fair to stop here, however:  I need to tell you what eventually happened to Lyle.  After graduation, he was immediately hired by a well-known university in the South.  Unbeknownst to Enema U, Lyle had spent years hiking the New Mexico and Arizona desert and he had thousands of photographs and meticulous notes of the petroglyphs (rock engravings) and petrographs (rock paintings)of the Southwest.  As far as I know, he still has the largest collection of photographs  of this Native American art work.  Since he was not treated very well by the faculty of Enema U, he never told them about his collection.

Saturday, March 4, 2017

Far From the First Time

“The president has declared war on the press.”

The above is a fairly accurate summation of the last month’s major news story, and every paper in the country has reported on it.  Pundits have denounced the president, endlessly repeating that a strong and vigorous fourth estate is necessary to the well-being of a democracy.  Which is true. 

The papers go on to say that this is unprecedented in the country’s history—which is false.

Obviously, democracies need a free and unrestrained press, which is guaranteed to us by the First Amendment.  However, also guaranteed is the right of the president to criticize the press.  Those in the media frequently forget that while they have a right to speak or print, but do not have any right to be uncritically respected.

There has never been a golden age of accord between the press and the American presidency.  Every president—without exception—has believed the press to be unfair, partisan, and in need of correction (if not outright restraint).

George Washington was an ardent fan of newspapers, subscribing to over thirty different papers.  Between his announcing his candidacy and his inauguration, he had cancelled his subscriptions with all of them.  As president, his administration was soundly criticized by the press.  When his Secretary of State, John Jay, negotiated a peace treaty with England, the Jay Treaty was denounced by newspapers in terms that are too harsh even for today’s media.  One paper wrote, “Damn John Jay! Damn everyone who won’t damn John Jay!! Damn everyone that won’t put lights in his windows and sit up all night damning John Jay!!!”

Jay later remarked you could travel by horseback across the nation, your route illuminated by the fires of his body burning in effigy.  Washington, however, ignored the press & rewarded Jay by naming him to the Supreme Court.

It was only after Washington left office that he changed his mind and began reading the papers again.  On even the last day of his life, he read a newspaper.

John Adams, Washington’s successor, was so thoroughly convinced that American newspapers were controlled by the French Press, that he pushed the passage of the Alien and Sedition Acts, that made it harder for immigrants to become citizens, allowed the president to deport “dangerous immigrants, and prohibited the press from making statements against the federal government.  Editors who were critical of President Adams were fined and sentenced to jail terms—the severest  was 18 months and $480 for calling President Adams (among other epithets) a "tyrant".

Jefferson successfully ran for the presidency—in part—on doing away with these oppressive acts.  The Acts were allowed to expire or were abolished, with the exception of the Alien Enemies Act which is still part of the Federal Statutes.  (This was the law that allowed FDR to imprison Japanese, Italian, and German immigrants during World War II.)

While Jefferson supported free speech for the press, he nonetheless hated the way the “polluted vehicles of falsehood and error" reported on his presidency.  "Newspapers present for the most part only a caricature of disaffected minds.”

Even President James Madison, the author of the First Amendment, hated the newspapers.  He endured them, eventually saying, "To the press alone, chequered as it is with abuses, the world is indebted for all the triumphs which have been gained by reason and humanity over error and oppression.”

Andrew Jackson despised the press, believing that the articles accusing his wife of bigamy (technically correct) contributed to her death shortly after his election (but before his inauguration).  As General Jackson had already killed a journalist in a duel, insulting the president was a dangerous undertaking.  There are a lot of stories about how tough Jackson was, the extraordinary number of pairs of dueling pistols he kept ready, the would-be assassin whose gun failed to fire—twice (the assassin-wannabe was then beaten into submission by the President)….But my favorite Jackson story is about his parrot, Poll, who was supposed to have a place of honor at Jackson’s funeral.  Unfortunately, the bird had to be removed because it wouldn’t stop cursing. 

While every president has disliked the press, it has been during war that presidential ire has risen to its highest points.  During the Mexican-American War, President Polk mused about trying various newspaper editors for treason.  But no president actively pursued and punished the press like Abraham Lincoln.

Nothing that Lincoln could do made American newspapers happy.  Even when Lincoln was successful, the Northern press still attacked the president.  After delivering the Gettysburg Address in 1863, the Chicago Times wrote: ”We did not conceive it possible that even Mr Lincoln would produce a paper so slipshod, so loose-joined, so puerile, not alone in literary construction, but in its ideas, its sentiments, its grasp. He has outdone himself.”

Another newspaper cataloged Lincoln’s character traits:  “Filthy Story-Teller, Despot, Liar, Thief, Braggart, Buffoon, Usurper, Monster, Ignoramus Abe, Old Scoundrel, Perjurer, Robber, Swindler, Tyrant, Field-Butcher, Land-Pirate.”

Lincoln closed newspapers in both the North and the South, jailed or banished editors, and prohibited the publication of some forms of protests.  When the Supreme Court overruled Lincoln’s suspension of the Bill of Rights, he just ignored the court in large part.  This is surprising since—though it is not widely known—Lincoln owned a small newspaper, the Illinois Staats-Anzeiger, when he was elected.  While he sold the paper shortly after being elected to the presidency, he was an avid paper reader while in the White House, and newspaper clippings were found in his wallet the night he was assassinated. 

Grover Cleveland actively hated the press, and wouldn’t even allow reporters space within the White House to work.  His secretary, who was nominally in charge of working with the journalists, forced them to wait outside in all sorts of weather.  When the journalists begged the president to hire a secretary who would be kind to them, he answered that he preferred one who was kind to the president. 

After Cleveland, things did not improve much under President McKinley.  While he allowed the press a small office within what was then called the Executive Mansion, he still complained that newspapermen were “the inventors of news.” 

All of this changed dramatically with President Theodore Roosevelt, who was the real inventor of "presidential spin.  Teddy loved to use the press, and invented many of the presidential press traditions still in place today.  He improved the offices the press used, he was the first president to have a press secretary, and he was the first to meet regularly with the press.  On most days, he informally met off the record with reporters while he shaved.  And Teddy was the first to take full advantage of photographers during these meetings.  He kept close track of where the photographers were, and when they were about to take his picture.  It is almost impossible to find a "candid" photo of this president who made a point of having his presidency recorded on film.

Teddy Roosevelt was also the first president to stage press events to shape public opinion to fit his political needs.  When he wanted congressional approval of naval submarines, he took the press with him to document his descent to the bottom of Long Island Sound.  Roosevelt, via his use of the press, created the modern presidency.  Up until this point, the peace-time president was the chief administrator of the nation, but policy and most legislation were created by Congress.  Theodore Roosevelt, on the other hand, used the power of the press to change that, the president, the sole branch of government that could speak with one voice, became the shaper of national policy.

As the media changed, so did the relationship between the president and the press.  In 1920, there were only two radio stations in the country, within two years, there were over five hundred.  For the first time, print journalism was not the only form of news media, and while the public quickly adopted to the new form of media, the presidency was a little slower.  Invest a few minutes with Google, and you can still hear the tinny voice of Herbert Hoover, yelling loudly into a microphone that he obviously doesn’t really believe works.

Hoover was nearly the complete opposite of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, who understood not only the medium, but how the people listened to it.  His relaxed and conversational tone connected with the American people, much to the horror of print journalists.  In time, FDR, too, complained about the unfairness of the press and about biased reporting.  While regular press conferences were still being held, FDR insisted that the questions be submitted in advance and that the president could not be quoted directly without permission.

President Eisenhower was the first to use film to record his press conferences and he was obviously dubious about the value of adding movie cameras to a formal press conference.  At the first, on January 19, 1955, Ike said, "Well, I see we are trying a new experiment this morning. I hope it doesn't prove to be a disturbing influence.”

From there, it was only a small step to January 1961, when President Kennedy held the first of sixty-five live, televised press conferences (and the questions did not have to be submitted in advance in writing.  The press not only resisted this change, but hated it.  The Dallas Morning News attacked Kennedy for controlling the media because “it does not want the public to know about the errors it might make. Further, it wants to give the people propaganda about its own merits through the news it ‘manages.’” This", the paper wrote, “can become a part of the path to dictatorship. … The people cannot rule unless they have the facts upon which to base their judgments.”

Nixon controlled the press conferences…by having almost none at all!  In six years, he held fewer press meetings than Ford did in two years.  Where FDR had held roughly seven press conferences a month, from Nixon through Reagan, the average dropped to one—or fewer—a month.  Even "Silent Calvin" Coolidge used to average about six a month. 

Bush (41), Clinton, and Bush (43) averaged a little over two a month, and each complained bitterly about unfair reporting in the press.  Or, as Bill Clinton called them, the “purveyors of hatred and division”.

President Trump has a horrible relationship with the press...And we should be grateful, as evidently, this is an indication that all is well.  It is when the press likes a president, and cooperates with him that we ought to be worried.

From the sound of things these days, I’d say we are safe for at least the next four years.