Pat Buchanan: Minorities Aren't "Bad For The Country," But...
October 18, 2011 3:31 pm ET by Solange UwimanaPat Buchanan doesn't think "minorities are bad for the country." At least that's what he claimed last night on Fox News. In an interview with Sean Hannity to discuss his new book, Suicide of a Superpower: Will America Survive to 2025?, Buchanan expanded on part of the book's premise, that America is "disintegrating" because "white America is an endangered species." Though he claimed that minorities aren't "bad for the country," the America of 2041 Buchanan sketched is one that is bankrupt economically, confounded by crime and lawlessness, and where English is a second language.
Here is Buchanan trying to explain the main points in the chapter of his book titled, "The End of White America":
HANNITY: I want you to explain it in your words 'cause I think people will interpret it, Pat -- is that, oh, so white America's going, so that means the end of America? Are you saying that minorities are bad for the country.Buchanan added: "What California is today, America is in 2041 if we don't change course."
BUCHANAN: No, not at all. No, not at all. But the title is taken from the title of an article, cover article in Atlantic Magazine, exactly, "The End Of White America." What does it mean -- and the fellow wrote it about what does it mean for the culture? And so, I looked at it from what does it mean for the United States of America when white Americans in 2041 become a minority in the country along with Asians-American minority, African-Americans, and Hispanic-Americans. And you try to envisualize what's going to happen. And America's gonna look very much like California right now. And what does that mean?
California is bankrupt. It's bond rating is the lowest of any place. Los Angeles, half the people there don't speak English as -- in their own homes -- 5 million people. And you've got all the problems of crimes. You've got a black-brown war among the underclass, as one sheriff described it, in the prisons and in the gangs. And people are leaving California. And it's the old tax consumers are coming in.
Now, these are not bad or evil people. Even the ones who are illegal. They're coming to work, many of them. They're coming for a better life. But the truth is they are bankrupting the state of California because of that divide you mentioned between taxpayers and tax consumers. And what happens when all of America is like that, when every American city is like LA?
How else would one interpret those words if not: "[M]inorities are bad for the country" unless there are more white people?
Indeed, Buchanan goes even further later in the discussion, complaining:
BUCHANAN: Republicans can't win California today. It's not because the people are evil, but they are Democratic. They depend on government. They believe in government, and they vote for the party of government. When Texas goes the same way -- and whites are a minority in Texas -- when it becomes predominantly overwhelmingly Hispanic, it is going to become predominantly Democratic. That's the end of the Republican Party.Buchanan concluded by suggesting "a moratorium on immigration." There's no clearer indication of what Buchanan thinks of minorities and immigrants than his remarks to Sean Hannity.
Buchanan has a long history of bigotry. He has been warning that America will become "a Third World country" since at least 1990 when he warned about the "Euro-Americans ... who founded the United States" becoming the minority.
And his call to end all immigration is something Buchanan has been calling for, for years, as well. In his 2006 book, State of Emergency, for example, Buchanan wrote:
- "This [immigration] is an invasion, the greatest invasion in history." [p. 5]
- "We are witnessing how nations perish. We are entered upon the final act of our civilization. The last scene is the deconstruction of the nations. The penultimate scene, now well underway, is the invasion unresisted." [p. 6]
- "The first imperative is an immediate moratorium on all immigration, such as the one we imposed from 1924 to 1965. ... But even with a moratorium, success is not assured." [p. 250-251]
This vision of the aggrieved white man lost in a world that no longer values him was given its most vivid expression in the 1993 film Falling Down. Michael Douglas plays Bill Foster, a downsized defense worker with a buzz cut and a pocket protector who rampages through a Los Angeles overrun by greedy Korean shop-owners and Hispanic gangsters, railing against the eclipse of the America he used to know. (The film came out just eight years before California became the nation's first majority-minority state.) Falling Down ends with a soulful police officer apprehending Foster on the Santa Monica Pier, at which point the middle-class vigilante asks, almost innocently: "I'm the bad guy?"Hsu concluded:
BUT THIS IS a nightmare vision. Of course most of America's Bill Fosters aren't the bad guys--just as civilization is not, in the words of Tom Buchanan, "going to pieces" and America is not, in the phrasing of Pat Buchanan, going "Third World." The coming white minority does not mean that the racial hierarchy of American culture will suddenly become inverted, as in 1995's White Man's Burden, an awful thought experiment of a film, starring John Travolta, that envisions an upside-down world in which whites are subjugated to their high-class black oppressors. There will be dislocations and resentments along the way, but the demographic shifts of the next 40 years are likely to reduce the power of racial hierarchies over everyone's lives, producing a culture that's more likely than any before to treat its inhabitants as individuals, rather than members of a caste or identity group.
[W]e aspire to be post-racial, but we still live within the structures of privilege, injustice, and racial categorization that we inherited from an older order. We can talk about defining ourselves by lifestyle rather than skin color, but our lifestyle choices are still racially coded. We know, more or less, that race is a fiction that often does more harm than good, and yet it is something we cling to without fully understanding why -- as a social and legal fact, a vague sense of belonging and place that we make solid through culture and speech.
But maybe this is merely how it used to be -- maybe this is already an outdated way of looking at things. "You have a lot of young adults going into a more diverse world," Carter remarks. For the young Americans born in the 1980s and 1990s, culture is something to be taken apart and remade in their own image. "We came along in a generation that didn't have to follow that path of race," he goes on. "We saw something different." This moment was not the end of white America; it was not the end of anything. It was a bridge, and we crossed it.
Pat Buchanan: Blacks Have Lost The American Identity They Had During Segregation
October 19, 2011 6:11 pm ET by Eric HananokiDuring a radio appearance promoting his book, MSNBC analyst Pat Buchanan argued that blacks and whites were more unified during the 1950s than they are today. Buchanan argued that "what we had then, which was a sense of cultural and social one-ness, we were a people, that I think that is what's being lost." Buchanan added that while blacks considered themselves Americans first and foremost during the era of segregation, today they're using "hyphenated terms" like "African-American" to describe themselves.
Buchanan's remark came yesterday on the radio program of Mark Davis. Davis asked Buchanan to expand on his theory that, in Davis' words, "black Americans of 1960 were more woven into the fabric of the America of that time than many of today's black Americans are woven into the America of this time."
Buchanan replied that during the 1950s, blacks and whites "all had a common religion, we all worshiped the same God, we all went to schools where American literature was taught, the English language was our language, we all rooted for the same teams, we read the same newspapers, we listened to the same music. We were a people then. We were all Americans. Now I'm not saying segregation was good. But what I was saying, that did not prevent us from being one people."
Buchanan then said that blacks today have lost the American identity they had in the 1950s:
BUCHANAN: If you'd ask those black folks that are traveling abroad, "Who are you," "I am an American." That was their first identity in my judgment at that time. Clearly they were African-Americans, but we didn't use hyphenated terms in those days. And so I think what we had then, which was a sense of cultural and social one-ness, we were a people, that I think that is what's being lost. Across the divide now, people are calling names, they're not communicating, and I think it's really a tragedy and it could be a disaster for this country.
Buchanan painted a similar picture of the 1940s and 1950s in his 1988 book Right From The Beginning. In his chapter "Then and Now: A Tale of Two Cities," Buchanan wrote of his upbringing in segregated Washington D.C.:
Any resemblance between this cosmopolitan capital and the sleepy Southern city where we grew up is coincidental. Segregation was a way of life in postwar Washington, but, unlike parts of the Eastern Shore of Maryland, which were little slices of Mississippi, Washington never belonged to the "mean South." The only genuine "racist" I ever knew was the father of a grammar-school classmate, a red-faced, black-haired Irishman who kept a rack of rifles and shotguns in his dining room, and talked incessantly of "the niggers." His wife and kids, however, were the nicest of people, polar opposites.Buchanan, who just released his new book Suicide Of A Superpower, has a long history of bigotry and hostility toward minorities.
Over the years, I have come to agree with a friend that "racism is an obsessive preoccupation with the subject of race. The racist sees everything in life, education and politics, from the standpoint of race. His viewpoint on everything is pervaded by his obsession." By that definition, racism is as prevalent in black America today as in white America. In the late 1940s and early '50s, however, race was never a preoccupation with us; we rarely thought about it.
There were no politics to polarize us then, to magnify every slight. The "Negroes" of Washington had their public schools, restaurants, bars, movie houses, playgrounds, and churches; and we had ours. Neither community could have been called rich.
We had no right to vote, when I was growing up, no elections. We were governed by three "commissioners," appointed by the President, and governed well. One of them, Walter Tobriner, was my father's good friend; he didn't need a limousine, but drove to work in his own car. The white public schools were run by one appointed commissioner, the black schools by another. And the schools ran well; the best of them were the equal of the Catholic schools.
In the 1950s, there were no food stamps or Medicaid payments or rent supplements. The relief agencies were the churches. But no one starved; no "homeless" froze to death, and no shake-down artist extorted millions out of the White House by threatening to starve himself to death; and everyone worked. Black teenage unemployment was 9 percent in 1948, today, it runs between 35 and 50 percent.
In 1950, the same bus that was jammed with white-collar workers in their snap-brim hats coming south from Kensington to Chevy Chase Circle, to catch the L-4 downtown, carried the "maids," the black cleaning ladies, back out to Kensington to work all day in the houses the white men had left an hour before. When it snowed, the kids at Blessed Sacrament would gather at the circle and barrage the "Boston Blackie" with snow balls as it rolled by, heading north out the two-lane road that was Connecticut Avenue. The white driver was always more outraged than his passengers, who laughed at the diversion from the day's drudgery provided by the little white boys.
Now the cleaning ladies in the affluent suburbs of Washington are Korean and Mexican and Salvadorean, and tens of thousands of Washington's black women and their children are second- and third-generation welfare clients. Supposedly, they are better off.
From the October 18 edition of WPAB's The Mark Davis Show:
DAVIS: There's a statement you made maybe three or four books back that I've quoted so much, so often, always with credit, because it makes people's eyebrows go way up, but they need to pause and understand it, and that is that the African-Americans, the black Americans of pre-Civil Rights Act America -- I mean, yes, it, was a country that had colored water fountains, and nobody is looking to go back to that, but the black Americans of 1960 were more woven into the fabric of the America of that time than many of today's black Americans are woven into the America of this time. What do you make of that?
BUCHANAN: You know, that's -- let me tell you, I grew up in Washington, D.C. I was in high school when Brown vs. The Board Of Education came down and I remember before it came down we had one black player on our football team, a Catholic team, and public high schools wouldn't play us. And we had to go up to Pennsylvania on these back roads and find teams that would play our school.
But you are right. In the 1950s, for example, Washington, D.C., was a segregated town. It wasn't Birmingham, Alabama, but it was segregated, clear and simple. But we all had a common religion, we all worshiped the same god, we all went to schools where American literature was taught, the English language was our language, we all rooted for the same teams, we read the same newspapers, we listened to the same music. We were a people then. We were all Americans.
Now I'm not saying segregation was good. But what I was saying, that did not prevent us from being one people. If you'd ask those black folks that are traveling abroad, "Who are you?" "I am an American." That was their first identity in my judgment at that time. Clearly they were African-Americans, but we didn't use hyphenated terms in those days. And so I think that what we had then, which was a sense of cultural and social one-ness, we were a people, that I think that is what is being lost. Across the divide now, people are calling names, they're not communicating, and I think it's really a tragedy and it could be a disaster for this country.