`HER VISA WAS RUNNING OUT'

William Cash on

the cultural miasma that makes America what it is

Manassas, Virginia TO DATE, the Washington Post has run 58 stories about the Bobbitt penis mutila- tion, `sex trial of the century'. The day after Lorena Bobbitt took the witness stand, the distasteful saga swamped its front page, reducing President Clinton's nuclear disarmament talks in the Ukraine to a few humble paragraphs at the bottom. When CNN interrupted its live coverage of the trial to bring Americans up to date with Clinton's trip to Europe, outraged viewers jammed CNN with calls until the network switched back to the courtroom. A poll has found that Americans care more about the Bobbitts than about Bosnia.

The American obsession with the Bob- bitt case serves as a stark illustration of the deep gulf that — happily — still divides Britain from modern America. Most of the US punditry, even in the more serious media, has been either of an adolescent, sniggery and peep-show tone, singularly lacking in embarrassment; or else, despite Lorena Bobbitt freely admitting to having committed her life-threatening act (although not able to 'remember' doing it), media counsellors have attempted to offer psychological explanations — and often justification for her sadistic crime.

More disturbing is what this soapbox case reveals about how near the United States has come to finally taking leave of its senses. That millions should be so eager to share with each other the most sordid details of the Bobbitts' wretched misadven- tures and personal lives without any sense of shame, shock or guilt, is symptomatic of how cancerous the institution of marriage has become in modern America, and how violence — especially domestic violence has been reduced to banality. The distinc- tion between news and popular entertain- ment — a difference the BBC still seems mercifully aware of — is now blurred to the point of irrelevance.

America is turning into a nation of arm- chair television-trial junkies, with the media increasingly resembling a 24-hour thrill-show. The serious US television net- works have traditionally been puritanical, self-important and crashingly dull. Over the last fortnight, however, it has been impossi- ble to open an American newspaper or watch a news bulletin without 'penis' jump- ing out at you. The once taboo word has entered the vocabulary of the mainstream American media, a fact news anchormen seem as proud of as a schoolboy who has just learnt a new dirty word.

That the global media have lavished so 'He's switched to decaf.' much more attention on Bobbitt II, the sequel (John Bobbitt was acquitted of rape last year), is because every voyeuristic moment has been beamed live across the states by CNN and the booming new cable network Courtroom TV. Television cam- eras were not allowed inside the first Bob- bitt trial because the State of Virginia does not permit the televising of cases involving sex crimes. The current trial of the 11 members of the Branch Davidian cult in Waco, Texas, has been pushed off the front pages because television cameras are not yet permitted inside federal criminal courts.

Walk into a bar, pool hall or cheap restaurant in America and the chances are

that, instead of seeing a rerun of Cheers, or a basketball or football game on the over- head television, you will find the set tuned

into a publicised trial, such as the Bobbitt case. Other forthcoming attractions include the Michael Jackson civil trial, which was scheduled for a preliminary hearing last Friday, and the Heidi Fleiss trial. The booming popularity of trial tele- vision has been described as a guilty plea- sure you don't have to feel guilty about.

Forty-seven US states now allow the televising of certain trials. Launched in 1991 by former Yale law graduate Steven Brill, at a cost of around $40 million, the Courtroom Television Network (CTN) is now seen in nearly 15 million American homes, with viewers expanding every month. Hyped as public service, sold as

'real-life' soap opera, Mr Brill recently told the Washington Post that his network was 'educational, a veritable asset to demo- cracy'.

Sitting in the Prince William Circuit courtroom for the Bobbitt trial last week was, indeed, educational. But far from pro- viding the American public with the com- forting evidence that their judicial system was working, trial television has achieved the opposite. It has confirmed most view- ers' worst suspicions that their justice sys- tem has broken down, and that law and order in America is a pantomime.

Last week there was compelling and indisputable evidence presented by Lorena Bobbitt's defence witnesses to support her claim that she was repeatedly raped and beaten by her ex-Marine husband. Yet 'Nowadays my harassment is purely platonic.' John Bobbitt was acquitted of marital rape last November — after a particularly lame effort by public prosecutors. After touring the television talk-shows, he has now col- lected over $260,000 in personal dona- tions. The day after Lorena Bobbitt testified that he subjected her to anal sex and 'Marine tortures', John Bobbitt strolled into a Manassas Volvo car show- room and inquired about a $40,000 luxury sedan.

There is a serious flaw in the idea that courtroom television serves democracy especially well. High-profile cases end up becoming trial by telly, with chic lawyers playing to the cameras and preparing sound-bites to get themselves on the evening news. Jurors are told not to watch it, but they invariably do. To claim they are not influenced by the media circus is naive.

It is no longer clear exactly whom the law exists to protect in America. The cult of 'abuse' is now so virulent that people now compete with each other to become victims. The depressing truth is that most Americans need to be told what to think. Left to themselves, they cannot cope because most of them subscribe to the cult of victimhood. Looking around them at modern America, they find it easier to blame society for their problems rather than themselves.

The most interesting aspect of the Bob-

bitt case lies not with the sensational details but with how many millions of American television viewers have been able to identify with such a pathetic couple. John and Lorena Bobbitt were so clueless they succeeded in missing their own wed- ding reception in Niagara Falls by a day; one Thanksgiving, after an argument about which television station to watch, John climbed onto the roof and snapped off the house aerial. He re-entered the house by kicking down the back door. On visits to their apartment swimming-pool, he signed himself in with macho movie-star names. On Saturdays, when bored, he would prac- tise his head-butting against the pool lamp- post.

I came across John Wayne Bobbitt one night last week, swaying on the dance-floor of the Holiday Inn, Manassas. For his night out clubbing, he wore a white track-suit and sneakers. Music was performed by an aging rock band called the Regular Guys. After grooving beside a female reporter from the New York Daily News, the world's most famous nearly-not-quite-so-regular guy slumped down in a booth. I joined him. When asked about his wife's testimony that day, he replied, 'I never loved Lorena.' 'Why did you marry her?' I said. He took a swig of Bud. 'Her visa was running out.'

William Cash is American correspondent-at- large for the Daily Mail.