Let’s pretend there’s a parallel universe in which George W. Bush was born into a different family but possessed the character and intellect of the man we know. Yes, it’s ridiculous, but c’mon, play along. We’ll make his family white, middle class, suburban, two working parents, public school for the kids, the usual. Remember, our guy has the same character and mental horsepower as the real guy.
Here’s the question: Does he go to Yale, followed by Harvard Business School? Does he, as a teenager, even have the curiosity to think about where to go to college? Does he register that some colleges are considered more desirable than others? Does he learn the names of those good colleges? Does he understand that he’d better work hard in high school if he wants to have a chance of getting into a good college?
You’re thinking that if George W. Bush had been born into a regular middle-class family, he wouldn’t necessarily have become a cocky, belligerent, bullying, lazy, spoiled little prick like the real guy, right? Oh, come on. It’s a Gedankenexperiment.* Play along! But remember: if you tell us you can imagine him going to Yale, then to Harvard Business, then charming his way into the Air National Guard to avoid Vietnam, then making some crappy business deals that he miraculously profits from, then running a dirty campaign* and being elected governor of Texas, then running for president of the USA, we’ll know you’re lying.
No, the best imaginable outcome for our make-believe George Jr. (whose make-believe grandfather* was not a Yale graduate,* a wealthy banker, president of the United States Golf Association, or a senator from Connecticut, and whose make-believe father was not a Yale graduate,* a congressman, an ambassador to the United Nations, chairman of the Republican National Committee, director of Central Intelligence, or president of the USA) would be something like day manager of a Wendy’s. Or salesman at a Ford dealership. Or maybe owner of a small landscaping company. And at worst you’d have a guy who just barely graduates from high school, gets drafted, goes to Vietnam, and eight months later is shot by three guys in his platoon because they can’t stand the sight of him.
George W. Bush—the real one, whose father was president, and whose mother, Barbara Pierce Bush, was a distant cousin of another president*—was accepted at Yale for one reason. It wasn’t a meritocratic reason like terrific high-school grades, brilliant violin playing, a world-class squash game, or perfect SAT scores. No, he was accepted at Yale because of his last name, plain and simple. Whatever civilizing powers Yale may claim flew right past his antennae; after his graduation he was exactly the same smug, smirky, nasty, ignorant jackass he’d been before he arrived for freshman orientation. And then we have Harvard Business School, which accepted him for one reason. Hint: It wasn’t his mediocre grades at Yale. Or even his dazzling work as a Yale cheerleader.
Unfortunately for humanity, the real George W. did run for president. He attracted many voters who didn’t know a thing about Yale but were thrilled to be voting for a presidential candidate who appeared to be as shit-kickin’ ignorant as their own friends and relatives, not to mention themselves. Someone who’d be fun to have a drink with.*
Skipping over the 2000 election—we’ll postpone that insanity for the Al Gore, Joe Lieberman, and Ralph Nader entries, among others—we shall now attempt to say a few words about his presidency without bursting into tears and ruining our computers.
On August 6, 2001, the president, vacationing at his “ranch” (where, like his fake-ranch-owning predecessor Ronald Reagan, he was often photographed “clearing brush”) in Crawford, Texas,* received an intelligence briefing with the headline “Bin Laden Determined to Strike in US.” Bush brushed off his CIA briefer, famously saying, “All right. You’ve covered your ass now.” A few weeks later: 9/11. That catastrophe caused the Bush neocons (among them Douglas Feith and Richard Perle) to orgasm simultaneously as they envisioned their long-held fantasy—of invading Iraq and overthrowing Saddam Hussein—capable of being realized, even though there was zero relationship between the attack and Saddam Hussein.
George Senior had prudently decided not to march to Baghdad during his Gulf War. Now Junior saw a chance to prove he was more of a he-man/BMOC than his daddy could ever hope to be, so he was happy to get behind the neocon Iraq adventure, and to lie repeatedly* in order to coerce the American public into supporting him. Meantime, Osama bin Laden and the other top dogs of al-Qaeda were in remote Afghanistan (“The Graveyard of Empires”), laughing their asses off.
Bush’s ignorance, multiplied by his oedipal problems, multiplied by his dependence on the mentally unsound and/or casually brutal posse surrounding him, multiplied by his unthinking religiosity, plus some constant (call it T for Texas macho bullshit), yielded a great deal of spilled blood, damaged Americans and Iraqis, destroyed architecture, and ruined landscapes, not to mention the billions of dollars that were, and continue to be, vaporized. Let alone the creation of the conditions that undergird the birth of ISIL, ISIS, DAESH, the caliphate, THRUSH, SMERSH, the Borg, KAOS, or whatever the fuck you call it.
Mission accomplished, Junior.