Then he decided to tilt the whole global balance of power to the Soviet
Union’s advantage by installing nuclear-tipped missiles in Cuba. Which he
proceeded to do with Fidel Castro’s enthusiastic, not to say bellicose,
cooperation. Or as Nikita Khrushchev put it in his always refined way, it
was time to “throw a hedgehog at Uncle Sam’s pants.”
The result was the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962, the closest the world has
come to nuclear holocaust. By then John F. Kennedy had learned a thing or
two; he never deigned to negotiate with Fidel Castro, and he made it clear
from the outset that a nuclear attack on this country from Cuba would be met
as if it had originated in Moscow, as indeed it would have.
After a long, elaborate, and nerve-wracking diplomatic dance, complete with
a naval embargo of Cuba and many a crisis within the crisis, the missiles
were removed. Things had worked out somehow. But it was still, as the Duke
of Wellington said of Waterloo, a damned close-run thing ? much too close
for comfort. And it had its origins in an ill-considered meeting without
proper preparation.
And this is the meeting Sen. Obama uses to justify his open-ended,
no-conditions offer to meet with some of the most fanatical anti-American
leaders in the world, at least one of whom - Iran’s nutcase president - has
been trying to acquire a nuclear arsenal for years. (And he’s making good
progress to the regular accompaniment of irresolute UN resolutions against a
nuclear-armed Iran.)
Let it be noted that, by the time John F. Kennedy went to Vienna, he’d
already served six years in the House and eight in the Senate. A combat
veteran and war hero, he’d spent more time in the Navy than Barack Obama, a
freshman senator, has spent in the U.S. Senate. And he was still blindsided
at Vienna.
By now Sen. Obama has backtracked slightly on his offer to meet the Mahmoud
Ahmadinejads and Kim Jong-Ils of the world with no preconditions. Which is a
welcome development. But that he should use a young president’s diplomatic
blunder as an example to emulate. … Well, it does not encourage confidence
in his judgment. To put it mildly, it betrays a marked insensitivity to the
lessons of history. Which is troubling. |