Political History

Fifty-five years ago this weekend, Eleanor Roosevelt - described by President Truman as "First Lady of the World," by Vanity Fair as White House "reporter-at-large," by her son as "the writingest woman alive," and by contemporary historians as the "conscience of the New Deal" - was offered a basket of knitting materials.   

Twenty years ago today, the Berlin Wall fell. And as soon as it did, a myth began to arise: that it was Ronald Reagan's uncompromising anti-communism that brought the Soviet Union to its knees. The myth's consequences have been immense: Again and again, post-Cold War hawks have invoked Reagan to oppose negotiations with America's enemies, and to justify the threat-if not the actual use-of force. There's just one problem: The myth is almost entirely false.

In this week's New America/Politico Live Chat, Nicholas Thompson will be online to discuss the dueling views on U.S. strategy in Afghanistan -- and how foreign policies forged in the Cold War continue to shape today's debate.

The global celebrations marking the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall aren't entirely about commemorating the rebirth of freedom or reliving those thrilling moments when a perverse and repressive system collapsed. Listen closely to the exalted commentary recounting the events of those historic days and you're also likely to hear the subtle intonations of regret and nostalgia.

Not too long ago, I predicted that a solid recent history of the 2008 election (Richard Wolffe's "Renegade") was likely to be the final word until President Obama wrote his own version of those storied events. A few months later, it appears that the conveyor belt is just getting started and that we will be reading about 2008 for a while to come. My bad!

Only two Americans held positions of great influence throughout the Cold War; ironically, they were the chief advocates for the opposing strategies for winning--and surviving--that harrowing conflict. Both men came to power during World War II, reached their professional peaks during the Cold War's most frightening moments, and fought epic political battles that spanned decades. Yet despite their very different views, Paul Nitze and George Kennan dined together, attended the weddings of each other's children, and remained good friends all their lives.

For eight television seasons (NBC, 1984-92), the Emmy Award-winning The Cosby Show, written by and starring comedian Bill Cosby, beamed an unflinching, yet humorous black family portrait into living rooms across America. Cosby, as Dr. Heathcliff Huxtable, presided over this historic foray into black upper-middle class life. The sitcom was a window into a certain, often enviable kind of black familial and romantic love, a showcase for amazing talent, and a place where the situations or "problems" of a black family were mostly just the same as any other family's. The No.

Compassionate is not the first word that comes to mind when reflecting on the Republican party before the presidency of George W. Bush. Compassion was seen by most conservatives as a private virtue, insufferably woolly-headed as a guide to public action. To be conservative was to oppose the goals of liberalism--to point out the limits of government in narrowing inequality, to remind the country of the necessity of constitutional bounds, and to show that, after decades of expansion, the welfare state had already pushed well past them, with disastrous results.

Every Democratic presidency since Lyndon Johnson's (that is, both of them) has followed a pattern: A fresh face enters the White House bringing new hope and big ideas, delivers his agenda to Congress, and quickly gets the back of the hand from the contemptuous grandees of his own party. With little accomplished, congressional Democrats suffer major losses in the midterm elections. Over the next two years, even less progress is made.