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In his fascinating portrait of Condoleezza Rice in the current issue of The Atlantic, David Samuels gives us a Condi who really believes her administration’s rhetoric about its democratic mission – and who rejects the distinction between “realists” and “idealists.” No doubt this is Condi’s current packaging, and no doubt she is a very effective saleswoman. One of her old professors at Denver University recently described her to me as the “ultimate political chameleon” who adopted her political bearings to the power environment into which she was dropped. But how is this to be reconciled with the old Condi who emerges from the pages of today’s New York Times? Today, Chevron announces that it was deep in bed with Saddam Hussein through the oil-for-food program, and indeed all of this occurred while Condi was serving on the Chevron board and was the director with principle oversight responsibility for its Middle Eastern entanglements.
According to the Volcker report, surcharges on Iraqi oil exports were introduced in August 2000 by the Iraqi state oil company, the State Oil Marketing Organization. At the time, Condoleezza Rice, now secretary of state, was a member of Chevron’s board and led its public policy committee, which oversaw areas of potential political concerns for the company.
Ms. Rice resigned from Chevron’s board on Jan. 16, 2001, after being named national security advisor by President Bush.
So Condi as Chevron director has no objection to dark and corrupt dealings with Saddam Hussein, but Condi as national security advisor is instantly committed to overthrowing his regime through the use of violent force. I fail to see the consistency.
More from Scott Horton:
Conversation — March 30, 2016, 3:44 pm
Joseph Hickman discusses his new book, The Burn Pits, which tells the story of thousands of U.S. soldiers who, after returning from Iraq and Afghanistan, have developed rare cancers and respiratory diseases.
Freddie Gray’s relatives arrived for the trial in the afternoon, after the prep-school kids had left. By their dress, they seemed to have just gotten off work in the medical and clerical fields. The family did not appear at ease in the courtroom. They winced and dropped their heads as William Porter and his fellow officer Zachary Novak testified to opening the doors of their police van last April and finding Freddie paralyzed, unresponsive, with mucus pooling at his mouth and nose. Four women and one man mournfully listened as the officers described needing to get gloves before they could touch him.
The first of six Baltimore police officers to be brought before the court for their treatment of Freddie Gray, a black twenty-five-year-old whose death in their custody was the immediate cause of the city’s uprising last spring, William Porter is young, black, and on trial. Here in this courtroom, in this city, in this nation, race and the future seem so intertwined as to be the same thing.
Average speed of Heinz ketchup, from the mouth of an upended bottle, in miles per year:
After studying the fall of 64,000 individual raindrops, scientists found that some small raindrops fall faster than they ought to.
The Playboy mansion in California was bought by the heir to the Twinkie fortune, and a New Mexico man set fire to his apartment to protest his neighbors’ loud lovemaking.
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“Matt was happy enough to sustain himself on the detritus of a world he saw as careening toward self-destruction, and equally happy to scam a government he despised. 'I’m glad everyone’s so wasteful,' he told me. 'It supports my lifestyle.'”