It's about Respect

The world had just witnessed the disastrous carnage of war at its worst. Lifelong friends had converged on the crest of a remote hill near Gettysburg, Pennsylvania with clenched teeth, thrusting their remorseless bayonets, not knowing if their bullets might be killing a classmate or a brother. The Civil War was in full swing, and when the onslaught ended after three long days, nearly 8,000 soldiers had died on the battlefield of broken unity.

President Abraham Lincoln, in one of the most monumental displays of leadership the world has ever known, delivered his Gettysburg Address to help heal a bleeding nation. But he did so much more than praise the sacrifices of the troops that fell at Gettysburg—he memorialized the very ground on which they had died:

“The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract.”

Americans had died for a sacred cause—the battlefield, Lincoln told us, is holy. It is to be respected. It is to be remembered. And the day we forget it is the day we will twice be forced to pay the price of survival.

Since that chilly November day in 1863, when Lincoln delivered his immortal address, the ground at Gettysburg has been left undisturbed, a tribute to the fallen.

Just across the border in the larger city of New York, a similar hallowed ground is not being given such peace.

In May of this year, the American Society for Muslim Advancement and the Cordoba Initiative announced plans to build a 15-story mosque near Ground Zero, one of the sites of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks. The debate over whether or not the mosque should be built still rages.

President Obama, who has failed to be as supportive of our Jewish friends in Israel, threw his support behind the plan.

Just last year at a press conference in Turkey, Obama stated of the United States, “We do not consider ourselves a Christian nation…”

Founding Father Patrick Henry must have had a different view when he said this:

“It cannot be emphasized too strongly or too often that this great nation was founded, not by religionists, but by Christians, not on religions, but on the gospel of Jesus Christ.”

President Obama is right about a different statement he made, however: Muslims have the right to worship where they want to do so. We live in a nation in which the supreme law protects that right. Religious oppression has never held a place here.

But this debate isn’t about whether Muslims have the right to build a mosque at Ground Zero; it’s about whether or not they should build it there.

It’s about respect. The leaders of the American Society for Muslim Advancement and the Cordoba Initiative should have the understanding and moral decency to build their place of worship in a place that is not so close to the hearts of those who lost loved ones on 9/11.

“The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract.”

Ground Zero, like Gettysburg, is consecrated ground. Should we not dedicate it, as Lincoln did, to those who gave their lives? September 11, 2001 was my generation’s Battle of Gettysburg, and so we must remember how that ground came to be hallowed.

We will forever debate whether or not we are a “Christian nation,” but that’s not what this controversy is about. It’s about being a compassionate people.

We will not force Muslims to build their mosque away from Ground Zero--we can only ask them for the consideration to help us, in the words of Lincoln, "...dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this."

Asking the wrong question

The joy in the air was electric, pervasive, and long overdue.

It cannot be described with mere words.

There were 140 million sighs of relief followed by unrelenting tears. But they weren’t timid tears, the kind you quickly wipe off your cheek in embarrassment. They were tears of victory. Everyone had them.

V-J Day had arrived, and the curtains had finally closed over the Second World War, a stage for the greatest generals, the most tumultuous battles, and the most heroic acts of courage known to man.

The Greatest Generation had left its mark on history. All the sweat, blood and unlimited determination had finally ended a war that we had no intention of starting.

War has a negative connotation, and rightly so. But out of the depths of our losses, hadn’t mankind displayed more good than evil during those six years of conflict? Isn’t it just possible war had brought out the best in us?

There is no question that patriotism was our greatest weapon against totalitarianism. And Americans did not look to the definition of patriotism in order to learn how to fulfill their wartime duties, but their actions ended up defining patriotism.

If you were five years old you gathered cotton from milkweed pods to put in life vests for sailors. If you were 10 you collected rubber, aluminum and glass. If you were 18 you joined the service.

If you were a mother, you rationed. If you were 4F, you sold war bonds and worked the factories. If you were too old to fight, you wrote letters, distributed leaflets or served as air raid wardens.

We won World War II because we wanted to.

George Patton told us that, “In war, the only sure defense is offense, and the efficiency of the offense depends on the warlike souls of those conducting it.”

We are at war, so we must ask ourselves:

What is the condition of my soul? Is the fiery desire for victory stirring within my heart, or are they fading embers?

Maybe the fire was never there.

Members of our Armed Forces are not the only soldiers in the War on Terror. We, too, must be warriors. It’s time for us to put our helmets back on.

The battlefield has switched from Germany and Japan to Afghanistan, and our faith has been shaken. Americans are asking, “Can we win this war?”

Reporters ask the White House, “Can we win?”. The White House asks our generals, “Can we win?”. The generals ask their soldiers, “Can we win?”.

And the soldiers, who know they can, look at us, the ones they fight for. Politicians say they believe in the ability of our troops to win in Afghanistan.

But why should our soldiers believe in us?

Wars are won by an unshakable desire to crush the enemy and provide a safe future for the lives of our children, as well as the life of freedom.

If the flame flickers, it fades. When Americans, people of the greatest nation on earth, ask about a war, “Can we win?”, then it is a war we have already lost.

So let’s get with it, America. We’re going to win this war. The question we should be asking is, “What am I doing to help us win?”

This column will be continued next week.

A Man of Many Guises

President Obama is a man who cannot help but hold a grudge. (Isn’t that right, Hillary?) That is, until the person dies.

This became apparent during the funeral of Senator Robert Byrd, the West Virginia extremist who openly supported the Ku Klux Klan and opposed civil rights legislation. Despite Byrd’s outrageous history as a racist bigot, the president praised him for possessing, “that quintessential American quality, and that is a capacity to change.” (Right. Byrd was an angel. It’s Arizona we should be condemning.)

Obama likes to talk about change. It is an attribute he clearly admires most in people.

And maybe this is why he adores himself so much: he has a greater capacity to change than any president that has preceded him. His wardrobe of personalities, which changes almost as frequently as Howard Dean’s mood swings, is endless, it seems. He is a man of many guises.

Professor Obama is the one we see at press conferences. He lectures at the podium, and with an air of arrogance and condescension, regurgitates long, drawn-out defenses of his agenda, such as the classic, “I didn’t ask for this mess. We may still be in a crisis, but we’d be a lot worse off if we hadn’t taken these drastic measures.”

Maybe he should wear a t-shirt that says, “I’m awesome!” Then he won’t have to waste time saying it anymore.

It was Doctor Obama that showed up to sell his pitch on health care. But instead of being the wise, reassuring doctor we all like, he scared us with his prescription: a hefty dose of socialism.

A lot of Americans are wary of Doctor Obama. He’s the doctor that printed his degree off the internet, is covered in cat hair and smells like cooking sherry. You’re just not sure if he’s capable of life-saving treatment.

General Obama decided it was wrong to try to make an ally out of Iraq, which has an educated public, a well-trained army, and is capable of democratic and economic stability. Afghanistan, he says, is a more realistic target. (Uh-huh. And North Korea would probably become an ally just as easily as South Korea, too. I mean, what’s the difference, they’re right next to each other?)

And of course, when he wakes each morning, he must decide between “cool Obama” and “angry Obama.” He likes to be suave, but after discovering Americans are upset with his administration, he now attempts to manufacture anger to seem more human. (Do you think that if Matt Lauer had asked George Bush why he wasn’t more angry about Hurricane Katrina, his response would have been, “Well Matt, I’m gonna fly down to New Orleans, grab that hurricane by the throat and kick its ass!”?

But let’s be fair—sometimes the president’s anger is real. The sputtering economy is taking a heavy toll on his approval rating, and I’m sure his senior officials are taking some heat from him.

Do you remember the scene from It’s a Wonderful Life when Uncle Billy loses eight thousand dollars, and he and George Bailey are frantically searching for it? George gets upset with the blundering, forgetful Uncle Billy, whose nerves are shot, and yells at him.

I think a confrontation between President Obama and Treasury Secretary Tim Geithner would be very similar:

Obama: Where’s that bailout money you silly, stupid old fool?

Geither, crying: I don’t know Mr. President, one minute it was here, and the next it was—

Obama: Do you realize what this means? It means bankruptcy and scandal and prison. That's what it means. One of us is going to jail - well, it's not gonna be me!

Yes, the president is a man of many guises. He can switch between liberal and moderate, calm and alarmed, patriot and global citizen.

It’s a shame he doesn’t wear the “commander-in-chief” costume so well.

Why we must care

I wrote the following column, which appeared in the Argus Leader on July 4, 2010, about this famous sentence from the Declaration of Independence:

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."

Things change.
Or at least that’s what the world so often takes the time to remind us, sometimes just as we’re getting used to old habits.
Theories, cultures, and ideas: they’re constantly evolving, and our lifestyles must adapt to accompany them. No one wants to live in the past.
But today gives us one of those rare opportunities when we can look at Mother Nature and tell her that in this case, the rules just don’t apply. On this 4th of July, we remember that the immortal words of the Declaration of Independence, the ones guarding “Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness,” are not altered by the onslaught of time.
Those words are indeed living. But the only aspect of them that fades is the ink with which they were written.
What meaning does that sentence hold for a 15 year-old? It means that regardless of whether you toil in the fields of the Midwest, or you work in a Manhattan office; whether you pursue a life of grandeur and splendor in a bustling city or you hail from the quietest street in the smallest town, you hold an equal piece in the vibrant patchwork quilt of the American dream. All you need is the desire to join.
But apathy exists: perhaps the saddest question that comes from people my age is the familiar, “Why should I care?”
So why should I, an American teenager, reflect on the words transcribed by men who lived in a world so different from mine?
I care because they made my world possible.
I wake each morning in my bed, and not the barracks of a labor camp. I can find employment without the government telling me what my wages will be. I have the option to pledge allegiance to my flag, but I am not forced to swear an oath of loyalty to a czar, an emperor, or a religious ideologue.
I care because the survival of a great nation requires great actions from its citizens. That is why we must all care.
Unfortunately, there are people in this world who do not share the views of Thomas Jefferson and his 54 colleagues. As you read this, evil forces, both known and covert, attempt to perpetrate the demise of our republic.
So we fight back.
Our nation has always been at war—officially or not—every day, since the Declaration of Independence was signed. Our Armed Forces have stormed the plains of Gettysburg, the beaches of Normandy, and the oil fields of Kuwait.
And sometimes we wonder: Why have we always been forced to sacrifice so much? Why do our enemies hate us?
They hate us for what they see in these very pages: free people remembering the words that gave birth to our nation, and paying tribute to generations of Americans whose blood has christened the freedom of others.
All men are born good, but in the course of human events, some hearts are inevitably warped and poisoned by the fear of freedom, and our enemies, too, sacrifice their lives to destroy that freedom.
But therein lies the difference: our soldiers did not lay down their lives for a ruthless dictator, or die for the expansion of evil, but for something greater than themselves; they died for each other, and for each and every one of us.
At the bottom of the Declaration of Independence is an unseen postscript written with the blood of our fallen soldiers. It reminds us what undying devotion truly is.
We must always remember: the cornerstone on which our glorious republic rests is not invincible, so we must rely on the strength of our backs, the resolve of our spirit, and the courage from deep within our hearts to uphold it—and this labor, it is not one of slaves, but one of patriots.
Many things change in this world. And as for the meaning and status of those 35 words—well, I guess there are some things that stay the same after all.

Unleashed

I can’t even remember when I first started writing about politics, but I’ve had a lot of practice. Each time I sit down, pen in hand, and start scratching on my yellow legal pad, I never know exactly what I’m going to write about, but I follow my instincts. They never fail me.

However, I do remember a certain calm, summer day. I was sitting patiently, tapping my pencil, waiting for the right words to fall into my head as I gave life to my very first column.

At that time, the War on Terror was the dominant political issue dividing the American public. I would turn on the TV and watch so-called “objective” journalists rail against our involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan. I listened to political gurus purport half-truths and even bald-faced lies to the American public about President Bush’s reasons for the invasion. I saw protesters burning flags, and waving not Old Glory, but posters reading, “Bush lied, children died!”

I was almost nervous to disagree with these people, and found myself asking, “Will liberals force us to lose yet another war we are capable of winning?”

So I gained the courage to tell the world my opinion, and dictated a short, sincere letter, entitled “Freedom worth fighting for,” to the largest newspaper in South Dakota. In it I passionately described why Americans fight and win wars, and why the invasion of Iraq was justified.

I mailed the letter, and several days letter, the editor called my dad. “Did your son really write that editorial?” the editor asked. My dad knew nothing about it, and told her yes, that if Joe had sent a letter to their newspaper, then it must have been all his doing. The editor was shocked; she said my letter would be printed in a few days.

I was 12 years old.

Looking back, I have to say that my editorial was a very good one. It used words that sent adults searching for their dictionaries, but I never anticipated the backlash that would follow.

When my letter was printed, I was ecstatic to see my name on the Voices page. I checked the newspaper’s website to see what kind of comments were being posted about my writing, and they cut me. Deep.

My article was filled with comments. People were accusing me of plagiarism and parroting the political beliefs of my parents. There isn’t a 12 year-old in America who can write like that, they said. Only one man, a soldier in Iraq, bothered to defend me.

To put it mildly, they stomped on me. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

I started receiving hate mail. That’s right; a 12 year-old was receiving horrifying letters because he thought he had the arrogance to express his opinion in print. Law enforcement got involved.

That is how the Left retaliated: they saw sincerity, passion and opposition in a 6^th grader and viciously attempted to silence me. (That’s when I discovered I was a columnist—if people were accusing me of plagiarism and sending me hate mail, then I knew I was doing something right).

This incident made me start thinking: liberals call the Democratic Party the party of youth. Democrats take pride in how much they value the input of young Americans, but when I dared to open my mouth, they filled it with vinegar.

That’s when I became a conservative. I realized that the Democratic Party did not share my politics, and the GOP couldn’t quite grasp my passion. Defending free speech, our flag, and human life; fighting for limited, Constitutional government, free enterprise, and fiscal responsibility; resisting tyranny and upholding justice; these values do not comprise a party platform, but a way of life.

Our nation has always been at war—whether it be the “war on drugs,” the “war on poverty,” or the “war to end all wars”—we have always been at the center of conflict. Today as we fight the War on Terror, we are also engaged in another struggle: this one is internal. It is a war of ideas, and I hereby declare myself a warrior, armed with pen and patriotism.

With the creation of this website, you and I embark upon a mission. It will be a long journey, and I will need your help to get the word out. But we will succeed; patriots always do.

I will close with two warnings to my Left-Wing counterparts:

To the liberals who demonized me after writing my first column, watch out: that 12 year-old is back.

And to the rest of you, be afraid: I’m the 12 year-old conservative your friends warned you about.

Goodbye Guam

By Joe Schartz

The following column appeared in the Trojan Tribune in April, 2010:

Washington politics isn’t always a spirited debate, a dramatic vote on the Congress floor, or a passionate speech in front of a divided chamber. Let’s just say that on some days the pace of life in the District of Columbia is slower than others.
Like the last drops of maple syrup oozing out of the bottle.
Friday, April 2, was one of those days. Congress had that urge to say, “We’re better than you,” and decided to host a routine grilling of a public official. They scheduled a Congressional hearing to decide the necessity of a new training program in Guam, America’s favorite island.
Admiral Robert Willard, Commander of the United States Pacific Fleet, was testifying about his views on the impact of the program. Yawn.
Audience members were glancing at their watches, pinching themselves to stay awake, and playing tic-tac-toe on legal pads as they pretended to be taking important notes. And then came the turn of Hank Johnson, the 55 year-old Congressman from Georgia, to have his light bulb moment. As he started speaking, the fidgeting and head-bobbing in the audience continued, but as Johnson’s rambling statement dragged on, every ear in the House had perked up to listen.
Johnson incoherently babbled about the dimensions of the Pacific island for an unnecessary period of time, which drew smirks and eye-rolls from various dignitaries.
“This is an island that, at its most widest level is, what, 12 miles from shore to shore? And at its smallest level or smallest location, it's seven miles between one shore and the other. Is that correct?” the Congressman muttered.
I can imagine what might have been going through the Admiral’s head. This guy is going to make every pore in my face start bleeding…I’d rather be having teeth pulled…maybe he swallowed too much Listerine this morning?
The Admiral promptly replied, “I don't have the exact dimensions, but to your point, sir, I think Guam is a small island.” Ummm, where is this going exactly? Wait, don’t tell me, you’re about to say we should put the illegal immigrants there? Sorry Congressman, it’s too small for that.
And then the Congressman revealed the product of his stunning epiphany with this statement: “My fear is that the whole island will become so overly populated that it will tip over and capsize.” He gestured with his hands to indicate an island flipping over and sinking.
The responses of the audience members were priceless: Oh. My. Gosh. Did he just say that?
If Johnson was expecting a thoughtful look on the Admiral’s face and a response similar to, “Wow! I never thought of that! We’ll certainly have to look into this,” shortly before handing the Congressman a head-pat and a cookie for his brilliant conclusion, it never came.
Willard recovered from the unexpected display of outrageous stupidity (usually demonstrated by toddlers with head injuries), and bluntly responded, “We don't anticipate that.” What a fruitcake! Does Georgia draw a name out of a hat to decide who its Congressmen are? Tell me this is “Bring Your Academically Challenged Adult to Work Day” and this guy is temporarily filling in for the real Congressman!
If anything, the statement made by Congressman Johnson should make you feel very secure about the politicians running the federal government.
Of course this isn’t the only recent opportunity we’ve had to see what goes on in the minds of Washington leaders.
Representative John Conyers of Michigan complained about his constituents’ calls for him to read legislation, stating, “What good is reading the bill if it's a thousand pages and you don't have two days and two lawyers to find out what it means after you read the bill?” Wow, this guy is really lazy for not reading his own party’s legislation. But I guess that means we’re assuming he can read at all, and let’s not jump to any conclusions.
And here’s this gem from Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi: “But we have to pass the bill so that you can find out what is in it, away from the fog of controversy.” She was referring to the recent health care bill.
Right. That’s like saying a hunter should shoot the thing moving in the bushes to find out if it’s really another human.
These are the people running our country. They are in charge of our schools, our military, and now, our health care.
I’m just very sad that Guam might be wiped off the map. What did Guam ever do to deserve this fate?
That gives me an idea: Congress should pass a 1,000-page bill that allocates $10 billion a year to build up Guam’s infrastructure to prevent it from flipping over and killing everyone. And this cause is so pressing and so important that I think it would be a good idea not to read the bill, but to ram it through and pass it in the dead of night. This is a crisis, and must be solved.
Besides, what crisis isn’t government capable of solving?

Happy Anniversary, Mr. President

By Joe Schartz

The following column appeared in the Trojan Tribune in January, 2010:

Dear Mr. President,
I take the time to write to you today to wish you a happy anniversary as you celebrate an entire year in the Oval Office. On January 20 of last year, the world watched as you took oath of the highest office in the land, and we were extremely relieved to hear your message of change, hope and inspiration.
Sure, I wish I was the one taking that oath, but hey, it’s all water under the bridge, right?
I am proud of what we have gained under your leadership, Mr. President. I mean, take the war, for example. I know I voted to go in there guns blazin’ in the first place, and then promised to withdraw, but you on the other hand—you dazzling bundle of cuteness—you made the awesome decision to not only go against the will of the people, but your own generals, (gutsy move pal). And look how it’s paid off already…sort of…we are winning, right?
Oh well, forget about the war. Look at this great economy you saved! It was about to collapse, but you created jobs, and unemployment is at a mere…oops…but the deficit has been shrunk to a tiny…let’s not go there…and spending has been totally under control…ha, who am I even kidding?
But hey, forget about that stuff. Look at your domestic accomplishments! You PROMISED the American people to pass a health care bill before 2010, and you did…almost…ok, not quite…But you did shut down Guantanamo Bay (Kalid Sheikh Muhammad sends his regards)…okay, put that on the to-do list for next year…well, at least you followed through your campaign promise to put a stop to congressional earmarks…hey now, nobody’s perfect, maybe next term…there were only 9,000 of them in that stimulus bill, right?
Okay, so I struck out three times, but you’ve always got me pal. I give up grudges against people pretty quickly…sometimes. Say, Joe Biden and I chipped in to get you these anniversary presents:
-10% unemployment
-50% disapproval rating (you and George Bush could form a club!)
-Huge deficit
-Inflation
-Cute collar for that dog of yours
Oh, and I’m also sending you one of my new “Hillary ‘12” t-shirts!
Happy Anniversary, Barry. Just remember, keep working hard, or you may end up in that unemployment office yourself!
With love and affection,
Hillary Rodham Clinton