Man or Myth.*
Dick Cheney died yesterday at the age of 84.
When he and his daughter Liz Cheney clashed swords with Donald Trump, the man was slain and the myth was born.
Perhaps the last of the GOP stalwarts, from Ford to Bush, he continued the underlying ambitions of a Republican ideal only now thwarted by a return to the slave owning policies of the president in power (sic).
The craftiest of puppeteers, he wielded the authority entrusted to him to orchestrate the greater beating around the “W.” Bush — enriching and expanding the reach of an already mighty nation and its corporate cohorts.
Having done what power allowed, he spent his later years brokering what remained of his influence to safeguard his daughter’s future.
Then January 6th reared its ugly head, and what had seemed a formidable Republican legacy was driven into the dustbowl of the Duck’s revolt.
His wings, like his power, were trimmed; and though respected and feared for most of his political life, there was always an undercurrent of misdeeds beneath the surface.
A veteran of several administrations, his interlude as a CEO served as a convenient pause before assuming effective command at the dawn of this century. While not the elected president, his shadow role in the Bush administration suggested that a leader disinclined to complexity could be steered by the subtler hand behind the curtain.
Watching George W. Bush act from that distance only convinced Fogy further that the power wielded in Washington was, in truth, Cheney’s own — his the masterstroke of policy and ambition.
If speaking critically of such a man seems crass so soon after his death, Fogy offers no apology.
The darker days of his tenure seemed far behind us — until even darker ones arrived. And perhaps not even Dick Cheney could have imagined the depths to which a great power might sink under those who followed.
R.I.P., Dick.
 |
| Puppeteer-in-Chief: Dick Cheney, the unseen hand that shaped an age. |
No comments:
Post a Comment