CHEW ON THIS

Maj. Gen. Antonio Taguba, who wrote the Army report on torture of Iraqi prisoners, is an American hyphenate. He is NOT white. He is a Filipino-American, born in Manila, who moved to Hawaii at age 11 and grew up there in a largely mixed-race society. I'd bet this made him sensitive to issues of racism that often sail right over the heads of many white Americans. Why is this relevant? Because unspoken racism seems to me to have been a factor in what happened at Abu Ghraib.

See Luc Sante's article this morning on the op-ed page of The New York Times. Sante, an authority on the history of photography, notes the similarity of the torture photos at Abu Ghraib to old lynching photos of African-Americans. He calls both kinds of photos "trophy shots." Sante writes: "Like the lynching crowds, the Americans at Abu Ghraib felt free to parade their triumph and glee not because they were psychopaths but because the thought of censure probably never crossed their minds."

I would venture that Taguba's experience as a Filipino-American immigrant with a special sensitivity to racism had as much to do with the depth of his report as his courage in bucking the system. No less important: Taguba's father, while serving in the U.S. Army during World War II, was captured by the Japanese in Bataan in the Philippines and was a prisoner of war until his escape during the infamous Bataan death march. You can be sure that his POW experience, too, focused his son's attention.

Postscript: The scathing editorial in the Army Times about "the now-infamous pictures and [Taguba's] even more damning report" gets things right: A failure of leadership at the highest levels. Apparently the enlisted soldiers involved in the scandal have come in for derision at the Pentagon as "the six morons who lost the war." But according to the Army Times "the folks in the Pentagon are talking about the wrong morons." We all know who the right morons are. "This was a failure that ran straight to the top."

May 11, 2004 10:55 AM |

Categories:

Me Elsewhere

'WILD SIDE' STILL ROCKS 

Nelson Algren was one of the great American authors of the 20th century, it is no exaggeration to say, and among the most neglected. Consider his underrated classic, "A Walk on the Wild Side." The title -- popularized and co-opted as an idiomatic phrase by Hollywood and Madison Avenue (institutions Algren loathed) -- is familiar to most anyone who speaks English or knows Lou Reed's lyrics. But the novel itself? Hardly.

BUSTER KEATON REVISITED 
Buster Keaton: Tempest in a Flat Hat is not a biography. "This book is merely a fan's notes," Edward McPherson writes in the introduction, although his publisher ignores the disclaimer and calls it a biography on the cover. In fact, the book is a bit of both, a difficult combination to bring off unless you're David Thomson, who set the standard with Rosebud, his penetrating rumination on the life and career of Orson Welles, which was nothing if not a distillation of every obsessive thought he ever had about the myth and the man and all his movies.
LAUREN BACALL, STILL SALTY AT 80 
When Lauren Bacall writes that her singing voice ranges "somewhere between B minus sharp and outer space," she's being candid and funny. It's not every stage star with two Tony Awards for best actress in a musical whose vocal talent offers so little promise. (OK, Harvey Fierstein excepted.) Still less would one admit it.
THE STARS ACCORDING TO BOGDANOVICH 
Peter Bogdanovich's superb collection of movie-star profiles and interviews -- a sequel to Who the Devil Made It, his interviews of top film directors -- begins with an affectionate tale about Orson Welles that reminds us just how intimate the author's connection to Hollywood's greatest has been. But contrary to what we've come to expect from dime-a-dozen celebrities and celebrity interviews not worth two cents, the tale avoids bromidic egotism and journalistic platitudes.
SAMMY'S WHITE DREAMS 
Four decades ago Lenny Bruce sentenced Sammy Davis Jr. to "30 years in Biloxi," stripping him of "his Jewish star" and "his religious statue of Elizabeth Taylor." Now we have two new biographies of Davis that spring him from ridicule, if not from doubts about his legacy, and restore a measure of dignity to a black entertainer whose huge fame and success never overcame his devout wish -- indeed his lifelong effort -- to be white.
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