Bret Stephens: The Tet Offensive is what McCain's candidacy is all about. In many ways it's what this year's election is all about, too.
By an apt coincidence, the revival of John McCain's political fortunes takes place close to the 40th anniversary of the Tet Offensive, when some 100,000 North Vietnamese troops and Vietcong irregulars launched a coordinated attack on the South that took the U.S. by surprise and permanently altered the political landscape of the war. That event, far more so than Sept. 11, is what Mr. McCain's candidacy is all about. In many ways it's what this year's election is all about, too.
There are two narratives about Tet, which began on the night of Jan. 30, 1968. In the liberal version, the sheer scale of the North's offensive exposed America's politicians and generals as dupes or liars when they claimed that progress in the war was being made and that victory was within reach. "We have been too often disappointed by the optimism of the American leaders, both in Vietnam and Washington, to have faith any longer in the silver linings they find in the darkest clouds," said CBS anchorman Walter Cronkite in his broadcast of Feb. 27, 1968, adding that "we are mired in a stalemate" that could only be ended by negotiation, not victory. The comments reportedly prompted Lyndon Johnson to remark that "If I've lost Cronkite, I've lost middle America."
Conservatives tell a different story. While the U.S. might have been caught off guard by the offensive, the result was nonetheless a rout for the North, which lost every significant tactical engagement and suffered tens of thousands of casualties. Contrary to Johnson's grim political assessment, public support for the war effort actually rose in the wake of Tet: A Gallup poll showed that the percentage of Americans who considered themselves "hawks" on the war went to 61% from 56% following the offensive, while the number of self-declared "doves" dropped to 23% from 27%.
In fact, what Johnson had lost was the support of the media elite, who (conservatives say) used their privileged positions to skew perceptions of what was actually happening in the war. "In all honesty, we didn't achieve our main objective [in the offensive]," admitted North Vietnamese general Tran Do, who in later life became a pro-democracy dissident. "As for making an impact in the United States, it had not been our intention -- but it turned out to be a fortunate result."
It is this second narrative that largely explains why Mr. McCain is succeeding among Republicans in 2008 in a way he did not eight years ago. Last time, he ran and lost as an anti-establishment, "moderate" Republican. This time, although he continues to depend heavily on the votes of independents, his fundamental appeal is to American honor, which is also the trait he uniquely embodies among the GOP contenders. He seeks to turn his personal code of honor -- the "No Surrender" slogan -- into a national code. He rails against a news media that only begrudgingly recognizes American military gains, repeatedly citing as Exhibit A Time magazine's refusal to name Gen. David Petraeus as its Person of the Year for 2007. Above all, he not only warns against the policy consequences of a failure in Iraq, but also stands against a philosophy, or psychology, that seeks to make a virtue of failure....
Read entire article at WSJ
There are two narratives about Tet, which began on the night of Jan. 30, 1968. In the liberal version, the sheer scale of the North's offensive exposed America's politicians and generals as dupes or liars when they claimed that progress in the war was being made and that victory was within reach. "We have been too often disappointed by the optimism of the American leaders, both in Vietnam and Washington, to have faith any longer in the silver linings they find in the darkest clouds," said CBS anchorman Walter Cronkite in his broadcast of Feb. 27, 1968, adding that "we are mired in a stalemate" that could only be ended by negotiation, not victory. The comments reportedly prompted Lyndon Johnson to remark that "If I've lost Cronkite, I've lost middle America."
Conservatives tell a different story. While the U.S. might have been caught off guard by the offensive, the result was nonetheless a rout for the North, which lost every significant tactical engagement and suffered tens of thousands of casualties. Contrary to Johnson's grim political assessment, public support for the war effort actually rose in the wake of Tet: A Gallup poll showed that the percentage of Americans who considered themselves "hawks" on the war went to 61% from 56% following the offensive, while the number of self-declared "doves" dropped to 23% from 27%.
In fact, what Johnson had lost was the support of the media elite, who (conservatives say) used their privileged positions to skew perceptions of what was actually happening in the war. "In all honesty, we didn't achieve our main objective [in the offensive]," admitted North Vietnamese general Tran Do, who in later life became a pro-democracy dissident. "As for making an impact in the United States, it had not been our intention -- but it turned out to be a fortunate result."
It is this second narrative that largely explains why Mr. McCain is succeeding among Republicans in 2008 in a way he did not eight years ago. Last time, he ran and lost as an anti-establishment, "moderate" Republican. This time, although he continues to depend heavily on the votes of independents, his fundamental appeal is to American honor, which is also the trait he uniquely embodies among the GOP contenders. He seeks to turn his personal code of honor -- the "No Surrender" slogan -- into a national code. He rails against a news media that only begrudgingly recognizes American military gains, repeatedly citing as Exhibit A Time magazine's refusal to name Gen. David Petraeus as its Person of the Year for 2007. Above all, he not only warns against the policy consequences of a failure in Iraq, but also stands against a philosophy, or psychology, that seeks to make a virtue of failure....