On Fri, 27 Mar 1998, Thomas Kruse wrote: > A moment ago, it seems, in the back and forth between Devine and Duchesne, > someone made mention of how in times of crisis -- in the last instance -- > the distinction between police and military breaks down; the example cited > was the LA uprising/riots. Right, of course. The point I'd like to make -- > perhaps banal -- is that most of life is actually lived a bit this side of > the "last instance", and on this side of that moment such distinction are > important. > > This was brought home to me when my Bolivian brother & sister-in-law visited > us in New York some years ago. My sister in law had just done a gig at the > Vancouver Folk Festival, and they dropped in for a weekend on the way back. > Together we watched a movie starring Demi Moore, Tom Cruise, Jack Nicholson, > I think entitled "A Few Good Men". In a nutshell, Marine training/hazing > practices lead to the death of two soldiers. Nicholson is the commanding > officer of the base. Cruise is a hotshot military lawyer, who gets > Nicholson on the stand, and in typical court-room Hollywood fashion, > "breaks" his witness, who winds up screaming "of course we push them hard; > we have to, so that we can guard you wimpy civilians from the menaces out > there! We do your dirty work, then you give us this human rights shit!" > etc. Nicholson is led away to the stockade; justice triumphs. > > My reaction to the movie was: another courtroom movie. Yawn. My brother in > law's reaction was quite different. It had allowed him to envision what > civilian control over the military _might_ look like and underlined the > absolute lack of any such control Bolivia; the non-existence of the any > substantive distinction between the military and police, etc. In short, a > very different reading. Dear PEN-Lers: I found Tom Kruse's commentary about how his response to "A Few Good Men" differed from that of his Bolivian relatives to be very interesting. Some years ago (1988), I had a similar experience watching the movie "Amazing Grace and Chuck" in Mexico City. You may recall that the movie is about a Little-League baseball player (Chuck) who decides to boycott his sport until nuclear weapons are abolished. This spurs a parallel boycott by a star basketball player (Amazing Grace), followed by numerous boycotts by other professional athletes. Without giving up too much of the movie, there is a scene in which the President of the United States (played by Gregory Peck) confronts an evil capitalist over the phone. The President delivers clear instructions regarding the capitalist's future behavior and ends the conversation with a zippy one-liner in which he calls the capitalist "a son of a bitch." My reaction to the scene was fairly restrained, as I quickly categorized the whole exchange as fantasy. In stark contrast, the Mexico City audience exploded in cheers and applause. After the movie, I wondered what the reaction of the audience revealed about Mexican expectations of their chief executives. During public appearances, Mexican presidents often are inundated by personal requests from their constituents. But recent Mexican history has few examples of presidents who have clashed dramatically with capital. Or did my relatively mild reaction just mean that I had become desensitized to a subtle movie-making -- or that Mexican movie crowds can be somewhat boisterous? Steven Zahniser [EMAIL PROTECTED] > That was five years ago; four of which I have passed here in Bolivia. I > understand much better now his reaction to the film, which has to do with > navigating struggle and existence this side of the last instance. In the US > you have the Posse Comitatus Act of 1878 -- granted, under attack now -- to > fall back on. Here we have a country where the hightest station for an > aspring officer is not General, but the presidential sash, and more ofthen > that not the way to the president's office has been with a uniform and a > tank batallion.
