A real behind
It is not only the worst of times, it's also the summer of despair, the season of dark- ness, and the epoch of incredulity. A holo- caust is taking place, and the clowns in Parliament are doing what they do best — talking, posturing, threatening — then going to the opera and forgetting all about it.
We are dealing with people whose integrity suffers when compared to that of a hyena, yet our 'leaders' stand up during Question Time and pompously announce all sorts of strategies, all of which everyone who has born without a congenital dose of the clap knows will never be implemented.
Ah, Margaret, where are you now that we really need you? The irony is that the West could still save face, and along with it, save a few hundreds of thousands of inno- cent lives. The Serbs have scored military victories only because they have heavy weapons, supplied by the Yugoslav army, to attack civilians in the UN safe zones; which in my book means that the UN has played the part once played by Jewish Kapos in the concentration camps, these are George Soros's words, a Jew and one who knows.
It is a question of will. NATO has an overwhelming advantage where air power is concerned, but Clinton, the man of hot flashes and menopause rashes ain't never gonna do the right thing because there are not enough Bosnian Muslims voting in 1996. Worse, the Arkansas flim-flam hick, has turned over responsibility for Bosnia to Richard Holbrooke, Assistant Secretary of State, and a man as phoney, pretentious and generally unwholesome as his leader.
Holbrooke is the bum that this week warned that a UN withdrawal and the lift- ing of the arms embargo would be a 'catas- trophe'. Yet the only way for the country to be saved is to give the Bosnian Muslims a chance to defend themselves. Holbrooke — not his real name — does not seem to grasp this simple fact. I guess there's nothing in it for him and the Draft Dodger, no votes, no important DC invites, no rich lobbyists. Just a bunch of baboushka-wear- ing women and children waiting to be slaughtered.
I had the bad luck to lunch with Hol- brooke once, in the company of Pam Har- riman, who had brought him along to Gianni Agnelli's in the Big Bagel. Hol- brooke was Carter's assistant for the Far East, and oiled his way into the Clinton coterie by being Pam's walker.
He played the field for a while, and final- ly ran off with Katy Marton, the Hungari- an-born wife of television news presenter Peter Jennings, and a woman who famously libelled Lady Henderson in the most ridiculous of books since Bill Clinton's War Memoirs. He was named ambassador to Germany by Clinton, and then to his pre- sent post. The Serbs have been laughing ever since.
So far so bad. The only good news is that President Chirac is the one Western leader not tainted by cowardice. He has correctly compared Major and Clinton to Chamber- lain and Daladier. And he has rightly pointed out that to deny the right of self- defence to those we have disarmed is as criminal an act as that of the Serbs. Bravo Chirac. Maybe your limp and flaccid fellow leaders might take heart. But I will not be holding my breath.
'I'm beginning to think they'll never leave home'