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AMERICA'S DREYFUS AFFAIR |
With the study of history in America's schools and universities being replaced with "social studies", "multiculturalism", and other pseudo-scientific and "sensitive" approaches to the study of the human condition, one of the time-honored features of the traditional history course is also likely to go out the window, and it will be a pity. That is the challenging "compare and contrast" essay question that we never had enough time to do full justice to on final exams. A well- crafted "c&c" allowed us to show what we did or didn't know about at least two historical events and, at the same time, forced us to think and to put things into perspective. Our only regret is that our professors seemed to leave almost all such analysis to callow students, engaging in much too little of it in their all-too-linear lectures. To demonstrate the strength of the "compare and contrast" method in elucidating history, I propose herewith to apply it to the Dreyfus Affair, which began with the arrest of Captain Alfred Dreyfus in France on suspicion of treason in October of 1894, and the Vincent Foster case, which began with the discovery of the deputy White House counsel's body almost a hundred years later, on July 20, 1993. As the Dreyfus Affair disrupted France, the Foster death, and its handling by the authorities, has shown signs that it will haunt the U.S. government into the next century. Perhaps too much has been made of the relationship between the official framing of Captain Dreyfus and French anti-Semitism. By regarding it so, we are able to distance ourselves from it, treating it as just one more example of the irrational behavior that mindless bigotry can engender or, alternatively, we are tempted to dismiss it as an episode which has been kept alive in history by the same powerful and influential people who keep reminding us of our collective guilt for allowing the Holocaust. In either case we would be greatly in error. It is indeed true that Dreyfus was a relatively low-level, anonymous officer in the French army, and mistakes and miscarriages in the imperfect world of jurisprudence, especially military jurisprudence, happen all the time. But the way in which the case unfolded--and unraveled--did in fact almost tear France apart, actively polarizing virtually the entire society in ways seldom experienced in any country except on occasion during the prosecution of an unpopular war. It may have started as a relatively small case, but it grew into a gigantic affair, "one of the great commotions of history," [2] for the same reason that the Foster case has the potential to do the same. The French government, and virtually the entire French ruling establishment, including the press, put its prestige on the line in defense of a blatant injustice, an eventually provable lie. The fact that Dreyfus was Jewish was no more than incidental to the original suspicion. An act of treason had demonstrably taken place. Pressure mounted quickly to find the guilty party. German espionage success had been a major contributing factor in the humiliating defeat in the Franco-Prussian War. The country was already beset with a general paranoia. The stab-in-the-back explanation for military defeat after World War I was not original with the Germans. Now, a document divulging military secrets was discovered en route to the traditional enemy. Dreyfus was in a position, or at least almost so, to have been the sender, and he seemed just the right type of quiet, unsociable, stiff, cold, generally disliked person to be capable of the dastardly deed. That he was of an ethnic group generally suspected of being insufficiently loyal to Mother France was just one more factor persuading the military accusers of Dreyfus' guilt, and some of his key accusers were indeed openly and fiercely anti-Semitic. We can best relate to the situation, however, by recognizing that Jews in France at the time were among the demons du jour, along with Germans, foreigners in general, and Freemasons, much like our current ruling establishment has its militia members, far-right Christian extremists, and even angry white males. Convinced though they were of his guilt, they were not convinced they could convict him in an open court with the evidence in hand. But too much political capital had already been invested, partly on the basis of strategic leaks to a sympathetic press who puffed the story up, for an innocent verdict to be permitted. A trial was held in secret before five military judges, and a unanimous verdict of guilty was duly rendered upon the basis of a dossier assembled, and to a degree, manufactured, by the prosecution. The defense was, quite illegally, never permitted to see--in fact, was at the time unaware of--the essential evidence against the accused. The death penalty for political crimes having been abolished in 1848, Dreyfus was condemned to life imprisonment on Devil's Island off the coast of South America. Newspapers across the political spectrum all hailed the swift guilty verdict. Further nailing down the case, the false story that Dreyfus had actually confessed was soon published, and reprinted, in various organs sympathetic to the government. That, the unanimous verdict of the military panel, the opinion of the newspapers, and the natural tendency of the populace to accept the word of authority, was enough to satisfy almost the entire country, at least initially. For the next three years, the case stayed largely out of the public eye, though a few individuals, uneasy about the closed trial and the excessive zeal with which it had to be sold to the public, began probing into the matter, discovering some of the weakness of the case against Dreyfus and uncovering evidence that pointed to another officer by the name of Major Ferdinand Walsin- Esterhazy, a bon vivant of dubious character who was unmistakably a gentile. Ironically, in his memoirs published in 1930, German Military Attache Maximilian von Schwarzkoppen revealed that the traitorous major's first overture was made on July 20, 1894, ninety-nine years to the day before the Foster death. Other parallels to the case are striking. One of the largest is the similarity of the national mood. As it neared the end of the century, France was having trouble coping with what was perceived as the decline of traditional values. The following quote refers to the election of 1893:
And a contemporary observer, Jacques Chastenet, wrote, "The French malaise is above all moral." [4] Foster More SeriousAt the same stage in the developments, the Foster death would seem to be relatively more important and the official findings at least as dubious. Foster, though little known to the public, was the second ranking person in the White House legal office and a long-time associate of the First Lady, Hillary Clinton. He is also often described as a life-long close friend of Bill Clinton because he was born and raised in Clinton's home town of Hope, Arkansas. This is not quite accurate because Bill moved to Hot Springs, Arkansas, when he was five years old, and they did not stay in touch. According to the official record, Foster was last seen leaving his office at about 1:00 pm on a Tuesday before his body was found at around 6:00 pm by an unlikely anonymous passerby in a hidden corner of a small, preserved Civil War relic known as Fort Marcy Park across the Potomac River in Virginia, a place a few miles from his Georgetown home that Foster, a newcomer to Washington, was never known to have visited. A revolver was reportedly in his hand (though the passerby would eventually surface with the claim that he got a clear look at the hands, and the palms were up and nothing was in them.). From the beginning the newspapers and the government described the death as an "apparent suicide" though there seemed to be little about even the circumstances known at the time for suicide to be at all apparent. The only thing the authorities really had was the gun in the hand, but it's not that hard for murderers to put a gun in the hand of their victim, and the untraceable 1913 vintage revolver, made up of parts of two guns, found in Foster's hand bore all the earmarks of the typical planted weapon. Furthermore, since the recoil of a powerful weapon such as the .38 caliber on the scene almost always causes the gun to fly out of the hand of one who fatally shoots himself, the fact that the gun was still in the hand is, in itself, a suspicious circumstance. The haste of the snap judgment alone also should have been enough to generate suspicion. Initially, there was no hint of a motive for the "suicide". Foster was described as the White House's "Rock of Gibraltar". Friends and colleagues in Arkansas expressed astonishment that such a solid, stable, even-tempered and responsible person would take such a drastic and ultimately irresponsible action. Both President Bill Clinton and his spokesperson, Dee Dee Myers, told us that Foster's suicide was just one of life's mysteries for which there could never be an answer, and Clinton, in a eulogy to Foster asked us to "remember him for how he lived, not for how he died." In so doing he was at the same time telling us that, yes, the death was by Foster's own hand and that it is the sort of ignoble deed that is best not dwelt upon. Some White House reporters privately expressed a concern over the President's apparent readiness to accept the verdict of suicide of a close friend and associate instead of placing the full powers of his office behind a thorough investigation, but none of the reporters' doubts found their way into print. That the Park Police instead of the FBI were permitted to handle the case also raised some eyebrows, but not in public. In slow and awkward stages the story of the mysterious, motiveless suicide began to change. The first attempt at changing the story amounted to something of a false start. The little-read Washington Times of Saturday, July 24, four days after Foster's death, carried an inside article about depression in which Ms. Myers was quoted as saying of Foster, "His family says with certainty that he'd never been treated (for depression)." But on the front page was a story based upon information from an anonymous "source close to the Foster family" who said that Foster was, indeed, experiencing emotional problems and had turned to other family members for psychiatric recommendations. Among the family members mentioned to the reporter was brother-in-law, former Arkansas Congressman Beryl Anthony. The reporter had telephoned Anthony and asked him about the allegation and Anthony had responded, "That's a bunch of crap. There's not a damn thing to it," and angrily hung up the phone. (I wrote a short letter to the Washington Times on July 26 wondering aloud who this anonymous source might be and what he might be up to and concluding that from all we were being told about Foster, in the existing moral climate, he seemed a better candidate for murder than for suicide. The letter was not printed. It was the first of several that I have written to the Washington Times on the Foster case. None have been printed.) The next significant contribution to the theory that Foster was experiencing psychological problems came four days later in the Washington Post Wednesday, July 28, on page A8. The first sentence bears quoting in its entirety:
The full quote is important because two days later, as part of a much longer article on the ongoing investigation, the Post said that the note had been found by the Park Police in Foster's automobile at Fort Marcy Park, which was eventually in the report released by the Park Police almost a year later. (The July 30 Post article said, however, that the list contained the names of two psychiatrists, both of whom were named and one of whom was interviewed. Neither had been contacted by Foster. The problem here is that when the police report was released, three names were on the list and the names were blacked out as though to protect their confidentiality. The blackouts were missing in a version of the police report released some time later, and the first name on the list, the one not named in the Post article, looked as though it had been written in a different hand.) It is also interesting to observe that mention of the list of psychiatrists does not turn up in police records until July 27, though the police had all evidence from the car in hand the night of the 20th. The observation that investigators had concluded the death was a suicide is also not correct, at least not in any official sense. That conclusion was officially made by the Park Police on August 10. For the eventual official story that Vincent Foster committed suicide because of clinical depression, July 29, 1993, was a banner news day. The Washington Post headlined its scoop this way, "Note Supports Idea that Foster Committed Suicide". What followed was the revelation that another note, this one written on yellow legal paper and torn into 27 pieces, had been found in Foster's briefcase, a briefcase which had been searched on July 22 and had "all" its contents removed by Chief White House Counsel Bernard Nussbaum in the presence of witnesses. The discovery had been made by attorney Stephen Neuwirth of the White House Counsel's Office on July 26, but the investigative authorities had not been told about it for around thirty hours, or, at least, so we were told in the story. A seemingly critical news story line was begun, which has continued to the present, over the possibly "unwarranted delay" in reporting the discovery of the note, but the actual text of the note was not released, allowing the suspense to build for another twelve days while, in the meantime, the headline characterization of the mystery note imprinted itself on the consciousness of the public. For its part, the New York Times on July 29 had a major story which began this way:
A "close associate" had told of Foster's depression having been so bad that on one recent weekend he had spent the whole time in bed with the blinds drawn. The article also contained the first mention of the prescription of an anti-depressant by an Arkansas doctor, and a "person close to the family" told us that he had just begun to take it. If the anonymous "Federal officials" and "people close to the family" were employed by the White House, they apparently had not yet let their official spokesperson in on everything. Here is an excerpt from Dee Dee Myers' press briefing on the same day:
Jumping ahead in our chronology quite a bit, it should be noted that neither Foster's widow Lisa nor anyone else on the record has ever confirmed the "lost weekend" that Foster spent at home in bed with the blinds drawn as related to the New York Times by unattributed sources. The authenticity of the note was also later called into very serious question, about which we will have much more to say later, but for the moment, America's two leading newspapers had succeeded in establishing in the public mind the rationale for Foster's suicide. He was "depressed". Media Similarities and DifferencesEven in the early stages of the scandal the similarities in the use made of the major media by the respective governments can be seen. The use of anonymous sources which propagate the government line in the Foster case is of a piece with the early leaks whipping up animosity toward Dreyfus and the ill-founded French reports after the trial that he had confessed. On the other hand, if the Foster case has not, and perhaps never will, escalate into the sort of national blow up that the Dreyfus Affair did, it will likely be because of the differences, not the similarities, in the press. Here's how it was then in France:
When it comes to having access to news and information, we residents of this country reputedly by, of, and for the people can only feel extremely deprived by comparison. Whether one gets his news from newspapers, magazines, or the television, all he encounters is a drab uniformity, especially when it comes to questions of serious misdeeds by the government. Particularly perceptive people may have an inkling that something just doesn't smell right, but they are given very little help by the increasingly lock-step press in determining what it is that's wrong. In the case of the Foster death, as we have seen, from the very beginning the smell was particularly pungent, but anyone looking for reporting and analysis to satisfy his curiosity found... nothing, absolutely nothing. Rather than four fifths of the press being on the side of the government, in the Foster case, initially, exactly 100 percent lined up behind the Foster suicide verdict, even, as we have seen, before anything like an official finding was announced. But, come to think of it, that's how it was, initially, with the Dreyfus verdict. Most of the nations' columnists, editorial writers, and other opinion molders rendered their support for the government position by simply ignoring the Foster death. The apparent intended impression to be created was that the evidence for suicide was so persuasive that the matter was unworthy of their comment, but they left open the opposite interpretation of their silence, that is, that there was no way that they could marshal the evidence to make a persuasive case for the government. At any rate, by their silence they tacitly gave consent to the government's words and actions. Actually, William Safire, token conservative columnist at the New York Times, but somewhat tainted by his former employment as speech writer for the disgraced Richard Nixon, did write a few early articles giving voice to his skepticism about the rush to the suicide conclusion, but he did not persist. Similarly, the conservative Wall Street Journal expressed some misgivings editorially and predicted that the Clinton administration would bear a stain that would not go away by allowing the Park Police to do only a cursory investigation of the Foster death rather than having a full-scale, open FBI investigation. They also picked up on the little noted Washington Times article in which Foster's brother-in-law refuted the allegations of the anonymous source that Foster was seeking psychiatric help, concluding that certainly something seemed to be amiss. But, even though ensuing revelations made the government position ever less tenable, the Journal, like Safire, lacked staying power on the issue and eventually fell into the habit of referring to the “Foster suicide”, which, as the routine practice of all the other news organs, was the most powerful reifier of the government's “suicide-from-depression” position. Returning to the Foster case chronology, on August 10 the Park Police and the Justice Department held a news conference at which they announced their official finding of suicide in the case. The fact that they were most unforthcoming with substantive answers to questions at the lightly-covered conference and did not at the same time release their report on their investigation was given little attention by the press because the Justice Department, instead, used the occasion to release the text of the by-now celebrated note. Again, of the major national newspapers, only the Wall Street Journal expressed any semblance of an objection to the stated requirement that, if they wanted to see the police report, they would have to go through the drawn out, cumbersome, and ultimately uncertain procedure of submitting a Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) request. Their rivals devoted their attention mainly to analyzing and commenting upon the newly-revealed contents of the note, treating it, for lack of anything better, as a suicide note. With the note taking center stage, it is important that we take a critical look at its contents as well as the circumstances surrounding its reported discovery and unveiling. As observed before, it was hand-written on a sheet of yellow legal paper which had been torn, actually, into 28 pieces (intentionally mutilated to make handwriting analysis difficult?) with one piece, where initials and date might be expected, strangely missing. The act of tearing had produced no fingerprints on the document. The briefcase in which it supposedly turned up, as noted earlier, had been previously inventoried, after which it had been left "empty" on the floor of the office. Foster had been known for his gentlemanly nature and the grace and clarity of his writing in his legal briefs, but here is what the nation was told he penned and then curiously tore up and saved in his briefcase:
To call this collection of random jottings sophomoric and peevish and wholly out of character for a man of Foster's caliber is to understate the case. From its text alone, the reassembled note virtually screamed "fake". One could easily interpret it as a construction whose deceptive purpose was to persuade the public that Foster did, indeed, commit suicide, but not over anything very serious. What personal "mistakes" could the man have been talking about anyway, and what "lies" by his antagonists? He didn't say. Furthermore, if his performance, and that of his cohorts, was as blameless as he goes on to say it was, what was the problem? What was ultimately so serious that he should feel compelled to abandon his family, his loved ones, and his responsibilities by taking his own life? A detached, objective press would have to be wondering aloud if this could really be the writing, or the thinking, or the actions of the man Vincent Foster was known to be? Yet, with virtual unanimity, they ignored all the textual problems and bizarre circumstances surrounding the note's discovery and seized upon the squalidly self-pitying last item, trumpeting it as the note's main message. Here, obviously, was a poor, weak wretch about to slink off to the Washington area's most out-of-the-way place and end it all with suicide. One reporter at the press conference did ask Chief Robert Langston of the Park Police if the note had been authenticated. The chief responded that a "handwriting expert" had reviewed it and told them that it had been written by Foster, and so did the widow, Lisa (who claimed no particular expertise in recognizing forgeries, we might add). He did not say who the expert was nor what means of authentication he had used, and there was no follow-up question. The gathered scribes should have been made a bit uneasy by the fact that no photocopies of the note were released, "at the very strong urging of the family of Vince Foster", according to Deputy Attorney General Philip B. Heyman. No explanation was given for the odd family plea, and one can think of no innocent reason for it. The truly unsatisfactory, and unsatisfying nature of this historic news conference is well summed up with this concluding exchange between Justice Department spokesman, Carl Stern, and Sarah McClendon of the tiny, obscure McClendon News Service:
Thus were the reporters, and the nation, left hanging. A commitment had been made eventually to tell all about the police investigation when the first FOIA request was finally answered, but not just now. The secret case against Dreyfus for treason had been matched by the secret-for-now case against Foster for self-murder. Defending the GovernmentUnwilling to share with the public the facts behind their case against Dreyfus, the government and its defenders made their argument principally over the motivation of the protagonists. From this standpoint alone, they would appear to have been on firmer ground than either their opponents at the time or those who have used a similar defense of the government in the Foster matter. What rationale could have possibly been strong enough for France's generally apolitical Army to fabricate an elaborate case against one of its own? Who could possibly let himself believe such a thing, that the honorable men entrusted with the defense of the nation against their immediate, and very threatening enemies, the Germans, could be capable of such an outrage? Had not the Minister of War, General Auguste Mercier, assured the military editor of the influential newspaper Figaro that, from the beginning they had "proofs that cried aloud the treason of Dreyfus" and that his "guilt was absolutely certain"? [6] Mercier's parliamentary aide, General Riu, put it this way, "Today one must be either for Mercier or for Dreyfus; I am for Mercier." "If Dreyfus is acquitted, Mercier goes," said the royalist-leaning l'Autorite, and a military colleague demonstrated his grasp of what was at stake by noting that, if in a retrial "Captain Dreyfus is acquitted, it is General Mercier who becomes the traitor." L'Autorite raised the stakes one step higher by observing that, since Mercier was a member of the government, "If Dreyfus is not guilty then the Government is." [7] At least in the early stages of the Foster matter, no one making the case for the government had the stature of the distinguished, upright warrior , Mercier, around whom it could be personified. Certainly, the virtually-anonymous Chief Langston of the Park Police did not qualify, and from his indifferent performance during his one moment on center stage it was clear that he was not bucking for the job. Neither were the possible fabricators of evidence as apparently free of motive or as impeccable of reputation as were General Mercier and his staff. It was known that Foster's office had not been immediately sealed off as requested by the Park Police and that the police were, in fact, not even allowed into the White House until a day's delay. When they did arrive, they were not permitted to examine the possible evidence within Foster's office directly. Rather, they were required simply to take down the information that was provided them by the White House legal office staff, or more precisely, by Chief White House Counsel Nussbaum as he went through Foster's papers. This was the appointee of a president already wracked with scandal barely into the first year of his office. Foster, though a government employee, was said to have been assigned the task of putting the financial property of the Clintons into a blind trust (and who knows what else?). In that capacity he would have known more about the Clinton family finances than any man alive, and his death had rendered him safely beyond any future subpoena. Those people who eventually materialized to suggest skullduggery in the Dreyfus Affair also were more vulnerable to having their motives impugned, at least in the popular imagination, than are the Foster case critics. Since the original Dreyfusard, the journalist Bernard Lazare, was himself Jewish as were many others who in due time rose to his defense, it was easy to believe that they were just sticking up for a co-religionist regardless of the man's likely guilt. But the insinuations went much deeper. There was already profound suspicion in France of the growing power and influence of the new money represented by Jewish finance capital, and anti-Semitism had not yet had itself discredited by the excesses of Adolph Hitler and the Nazis. Though the three thousand copies of Lazare's pamphlet on the case were largely ignored by the influential people to whom he had it distributed, eventually, through sheer force of argument and the inherent and growing strength of his case, he began to pick up allies. As he did, a powerful counter reaction was generated. In due time, all new evidence dug up by those favoring a new trial for Dreyfus was laid by the Nationalists in the lap of a sinister conspiracy called the "Syndicate". The Syndicate was not only said to include Jewish bankers, politicians, and journalists but also such enemies of traditional France as Freemasons, Socialists, and foreigners in general, particularly Germans. The great majority of the French populace found it easy to believe, and they were helped along in that direction by the lion's share of the press, that the entire purpose of questioning the Dreyfus verdict was to embarrass and undermine the state, and that those who were doing it were just the sort of people that one would normally suspect of such a thing. One could hardly deny that Jews like Lazare were leaders of the Dreyfus cause, and that it took money, of which Jews had a large and growing sum, to publicize it. Had Dreyfus not been Jewish and with a strong, well-off family behind him, had he been just an average French captain with the same personality in the same situation, one might seriously question whether anyone with any real clout would have taken up his cause in the first place. The eventual exoneration of Dreyfus, to take a novel approach, might be seen as a sign of the first tiny glimmering of Jewish media power in the West, but they were as yet too weak to have pulled it off without truth, and certain key, brave adherents to truth on their side. Defenders of the government in the Foster case have hardly been above attacking the motives of the skeptics, either. Unwilling as they are to examine publicly the particulars of the matter, belittling the critics and attacking their motives is all that is left to them. An interesting contrast with the Dreyfus Affair here is the near reversal of roles. To be sure, those raising questions are being accused of wanting to bring down the government, but in this instance they are precisely those nationalist, traditionalist, Christian conservative, anti- internationalist types who so staunchly defended the government in the Dreyfus Affair. The defenders of the government, on the other hand, are the "liberals", "progressives", "internationalists", and in another irony, they are backed up in the media, at least in such outstanding examples as the New York Times, the Washington Post, and the weekly magazine, the New Yorker, by the same sort of finance capital that was said by their opponents to be behind the Dreyfusard "Syndicate." The Role of the IntellectualsThe Dreyfus Affair is also duly famous for the role played in working for justice for the falsely convicted man by France's famous intellectual class. Most notable of them all was France's preeminent writer, Emile Zola, who, at the height of the uproar, wrote a letter to the influential newspaper, l'Aurore, given the title J'Accuse by editor (and future Premier) Georges Clemenceau, which accepted the challenge of the Nationalists who said that proclaiming Dreyfus' innocence was to imply the government's guilt. Indeed they were guilty, said Zola eloquently, and he called the roll of the guilty parties, detailing their crimes. The evidence would admit no other conclusion. For his trouble he was tried and sentenced to a year in prison for libel. Watching the performance of America's intellectuals in the Foster case, one could easily become disappointed and even disillusioned. People who make their living with their wits, with their critical faculties, seem to have abdicated all responsibility to bring them to bear here. More even than the general public, who polls show have a healthy skepticism about the official line on the Foster death, they appear eager simply to believe what they are told, what it is most comfortable to believe. But there is precedent for this greater credulousness of the intellectuals, so there is no real reason for disillusionment. No group of Americans swallowed more uncritically the gigantic lies of Joseph Stalin and the Soviet Union than did our leftist intellectuals, continuing to believe in the "workers' paradise" even at the height of the Stalin purges, the show trials, and the Great Terror. Nothing seems to paralyze their discerning powers so much as the pronouncements of those who demonstrate good intentions toward society's less fortunate. A Democratic President, just like a brutal but distant communist dictator, is simply given a great deal more slack by these people than anyone perceived as being "conservative". America's high-brow, general interest magazines, identifiable by the fact that they publish a poem or two here or there, have all had articles making small of any and all allegations of scandal related to the Clinton White House, reserving their most scornful tone for the suggestion that Vincent Foster might not have committed suicide. These magazines include Harper's, The Atlantic, The New Republic, The Nation, The New York Review of Books, and the New Yorker. Perhaps fittingly, the most intellectually snobbish and the one which publishes the most poetry, the New Yorker, has been the most active in espousing the government's case, weighing in with an article on Foster's suicidal "depression" even before the August 10, 1993, official suicide “verdict” was rendered and again with an article in September 11, 1995, based upon an exclusive interview with the reclusive widow, Lisa. Both articles are emotional, impressionistic, and superficial, whose scarce supply of hard facts does as much to undermine as to support the official suicide verdict, at least for one who reads carefully and can look past the loaded language. No major magazine has attempted anything resembling its own, independent analysis of the Foster death case. If the government protagonists in the Foster case have lacked their General Mercier, so too have the critics lacked their Emile Zola. Actually, it is a commentary on the state of letters in modern America that no one would really expect a prominent writer to adopt a high profile challenging the government in a case such as this. In the first place, one would be hard pressed to think of any current literary figure with anything like the stature, the eloquence, the moral authority of a Zola. America's literary community likes to think that it is above such mundane matters as politics, and its contempt for the everyday concerns of the average person is generally reciprocated by the latter. But one prominent literary figure did offer his opinion on the case in a national magazine. Using the occasion of the shot-gun suicide of drug-ridden rock performer Kurt Cobain, on April 18, 1993, Newsweek had William Styron, most noted as the author of the fictionalized memoirs of the leader of a 19th century Virginia slave rebellion, The Confessions of Nat Turner, reflect for its readers on Vince Foster's presumed depression. Styron's qualification for the assignment was that he claimed some expertise on depression, having suffered from it himself and having written a book on his experience. His authority for Foster's case were the questionable newspaper accounts already mentioned and an anonymous "close friend" of Foster's--much like the New York and Washington Times anonymous sources-- who noted that Foster was "clearly depressed". He would not identify the anonymous close friend when called on the phone and later queried by mail. One can't help but wonder if the source was the same one who told Sidney Blumenthal for his August 9, 1993, New Yorker article that Foster had lost 15 pounds (a "fact" which Styron duly repeats). Later, official records revealed that Foster had weighed 194 pounds during a December 1992 physical exam in Little Rock and at the autopsy his corpse weighed 197 pounds (more on this later). In sum, Styron's performance for Newsweek was truly a sad one, and would have been very disappointing to anyone still harboring the notion that our "serious" writers are serious seekers after truth. Enter Christopher RuddyPerhaps the weight of Mr. Styron's dubious authority was felt necessary by mid-April of 1994 because, earlier in the year the Foster case had produced its potential Bernard Lazare in the person of New York Post reporter, Christopher Ruddy. Ruddy, the 29-year-old Irish Catholic son of a New York policeman, on January 27 produced his first shower of new information as a part of what would become a veritable flood in the months and years ahead (Lazare, by the way, was barely 30 years old when Alfred Dreyfus' older brother, Mathieu, induced him to take up the cause). Here, remarkably, it would appear, was the first American reporter who didn't rely primarily upon the government for his information on the case. Rather, he was able to interview actual witnesses to the body discovery scene, two of whom among the emergency workers were willing to be quoted upon what they had seen. And their accounts much more seriously than before called into question the official suicide story. What they said they saw was a body lying perfectly straight with the arms against the body and a revolver still in the hand. One of the workers who helped put the corpse in a body bag said he didn't recall seeing any blood or an exit wound. The scene, in sum, was altogether different from what these experienced emergency workers would have expected from a man having blown out his brains with a .38 caliber revolver. It also conflicted with the experience of the New York homicide experts with whom Ruddy consulted, according to his report. This was news which could not be ignored, though it was by the major news networks and the New York Times. The Washington Times played it straight with a front page article on the Ruddy revelations the next day along with a chronology of the main developments in the case. The Washington Post remained silent until the next day, January 29, 1994, which was a Saturday, and buried the article away at the very bottom of page 2 of their Metro or local news section. Because of its importance the story is presented here in its entirety, complete with heading and the commentary that I wrote on it at the time, that is, without the benefit of the considerable hindsight that we have acquired as new evidence has surfaced. To get the impression that the Post intended to convey, and probably did to those who depend on it and other mainstream sources for all their news, the reader should make a serious effort to skip over my commentary--the part in italics--the first time through. After having read it with the commentary, one might consider reading it one more time a la Post reader after having completed reading this entire paper to get a more thorough appreciation of its conscious deceitfulness.
*A good deal of evidence related to Foster's "depression" did come to light after January 29, 1994, but the case for it remains as weak, if not weaker, than ever. The family doctor in Little Rock was interviewed by members of Fiske's team and he claims to have talked with Foster by phone and to have prescribed an anti-depressant by calling it in to the Morgan Pharmacy in Georgetown, which supposedly delivered it to his home the day before he died. However, it is indeed curious that Foster was able to make connection directly with the doctor, talking to no one else in the office. No mention is made in the official record, which was released in two large volumes after Senate hearings in the summer of 1994 (more about those later), of billing records, copies of the prescription, or, most importantly, of long-distance telephone records of the call by Foster to Little Rock or the call from the doctor to Georgetown. Furthermore, the level of the dosage is much too low for the treatment of clinical depression (50 milligram tablets of trazadone). At that level of dosage it is no more than an anti-insomnia medicine. So whatever one is to believe about the medication, the Post is wrong to state categorically that Foster "had been treated for depression." There is more reason to doubt whether any consumption of medication ever took place. Fiske, in his report, says confidently that, "Lisa Foster saw Foster take one tablet during that evening." We learn from the Senate hearing documents, however, that when lead investigator Sgt. John Rolla of the Park Police asked Lisa at her home the night of the death if Foster had been taking any medication, she responded "no". He also concluded in his written report on that evening that none of the family members present could think of any reason why Foster would have taken his own life. Those family members included, in addition to the widow, his daughter and both of his sisters. The FBI lab, working for Fiske, also claims to have detected the traces of trazadone in Foster's blood which the original toxicologist missed, though one of his specific tests was for anti-depressants. The probity of the FBI lab, however, in 1996 came under fire from one of its own chemists, Dr. Frederic Whitehurst, who accused them of misreading evidence to benefit the prosecution in a number of cases, most notably in the prosecution of those accused of the World Trade Center bombing in New York City. In the Foster case, as well, the truthfulness of the FBI has been called into serious question. In the Fiske Report the claim is made that an FBI team visited the site where Foster's body was discovered and excavated to a depth of 18 inches in search of bone fragments or any other residue beneath where Foster's head had lain. Reporter Ruddy talked to an archaeologist from the Smithsonian Institution who was present and he says no such digging was done. I also talked with a regular visitor to the park who is quite familiar with the site. He was there only a few days after the date of the claimed excavation and saw "no signs of digging." Government SalesmenThe essential sales role of the Washington Post for the government's conclusions could have hardly been more evident than it was at this crucial juncture in the Foster case. The Post had gone to great lengths to create the impression that Ruddy's revelations really amounted to not very much. One would be hard pressed to imagine how it would have reported on the revelations any differently had its editors and reporters been employed directly by the White House. Before continuing with the chronological narrative, a couple of other Post contributions to the government's suicide case should be mentioned. On Sunday, August 1, 1993, twelve days after Foster's body was discovered and nine days before the announcement of the first official conclusion of suicide, the Post's lead reporter on the Foster death, David Von Drehle, wrote a rare column on the subject. The column must have been several days in gestation because, in it, Von Drehle reverted to the original non-explanation for the "suicide", that it was just one of those things that we can never understand. His means of doing so was to disinter a familiar old poem by the early 20th-century writer, Edward Arlington Robinson, entitled Richard Cory about a rich, slender, handsome and widely-envied fellow who seemed to have everything, yet "one calm summer night, went home and put a bullet in his head." Concluded Von Drehle, "Thousands of lines of newspaper type have been spent on Vincent Foster's tragic death. I don't think any of us put it any clearer." We stress that the author, Robinson, offers absolutely no explanation for the fictional Richard Cory's drastic deed, though he does provide some verisimilitude by having his character kill himself at home at night, not in the middle of a work day in a hidden corner of an obscure park distant from home and work. More even than Cory's death itself, Foster's death in Von Drehle's exposition fits the definition of what we may call the "Richard Cory Effect", that is, a mysterious happening for which there is no plausible explanation. If we only think about it a little, we can see that this would-be press investigator of Foster's death didn't get nearly as much mileage out of the Richard Cory Effect as he might have. He could, in due time, also have invoked it to explain a number of other obvious anomalies in the case for Foster's suicide: The only explanation that holds good for every one of them, and a like number of anomalies which developed, as we shall see, as the case progressed, would seem to be reporter Von Drehle's Richard Cory Effect, that is, once again, "a mysterious happening for which there is no plausible explanation." Another Post reporter stepped out of character into the columnist's role four days later, on August 5. This time it was Walter Pincus from the regular CIA beat who produced an article entitled "Vincent Foster: Out of His Element". The title strongly conveys the column's flavor, which is actually pretty much all it had. Hard facts were noticeably absent. The article is particularly significant because it was the first instance of anyone publicly saying that he noticed any behavior in Foster that one might describe as, at most, agitated. He does not go so far as to use the word "depressed". Pincus claims to have had breakfast with Foster several times since his arrival from Washington, having gotten to know him since both of their wives were from Little Rock. He begins his article on the premise that, of course, Foster took his own life:
He doesn't take long to get to his purely speculative answer to his question, though he doesn't label it as such. We pick up with the article's second paragraph:
There it is. But he was, after all, the Rose Law Firm's head litigator making $295,000 a year in low-rent Little Rock. People with thin skins don't last very long in that rough-and- tumble business, much less rise to the top, but Foster, we are to believe, had an extraordinarily thin one. And how did this handicap eventually prove to be fatal?
What, specifically, is Mr. Pincus talking about? There were no wild assertions in the Wall Street Journal's editorial, and nobody picked up on their charges, which were actually quite mild. And as of July 20, 1993, press treatment of the Clinton White House in general was extremely forbearing, especially in light of the corruption we have since discovered, much of which Foster must have known about. And yet, Foster's "composure broke" when he spoke of it. One would have liked a little more elaboration. Did he cry? Did he curse? Did he rend his garments? How, exactly, did his broken composure manifest itself? This is material testimony that virtually cries out for cross-examination. Pincus's theme of Foster as fragile victim of the merciless press was picked up on by Sidney Blumenthal in his August 9 New Yorker article:
We return to the Pincus narrative for his conclusion:
What he is telling us is that he was at the Foster home the night of the death talking with the White House crowd ("Arkansas friends"). In so doing, he inadvertently reveals his cozy relationship with the people that the public expects him to report upon objectively. He also could not have failed to know that the police had come and spent more than an hour questioning the family. Yet his newspaper had reported on July 30 that the police had been turned away, and it left the country with that false impression for almost a year. And if he and the Arkansas crowd were so perceptive in noticing "the little ways the pressures on him had shown through," why would the police conclude from their family interviews that night that no one present could think of any reason why he would take his own life? Perhaps the best question to be asked is if this man and his newspaper have given you sufficient reason to believe that they would tell you the truth in this matter. The Search for a MercierAs noted in the Washington Post spin article on the shocking revelations by the emergency workers, an “independent counsel” had been appointed by the Clinton Justice Department earlier in the month to look into the scandal involving Clinton business partner Jim McDougal, his failed savings and loan and the Whitewater Development Corporation, jointly owned by McDougal, his wife at the time, Susan, and the Clintons. No announcement had yet been made as to whether the counsel's duties would involve reexamining the Foster death. There really was no reason for suspense. Until the ostensibly conservative, Clinton-opposing Washington Times revealed in a front page article on December 20, 1993, that among the items removed from the Foster office the night he died were Whitewater documents, the White House and its Justice Department had been successfully resisting calls for an independent counsel. The stated source for the new scuttlebutt was anonymous Park Police investigators, but, in reality, there was no way for them to have known for sure what was or wasn't removed from the office because they were never given free access to it. On the other hand, as we have seen, there were a host of other highly suspicious things associated with the Foster death that these anonymous Park Police leakers had to have known about but did not share with the Times, or if they did, the Times chose not to print it. Even on things missing from the office they might have been more enlightening. We know from subsequent official documents that they inquired, as they should have, about an appointments calendar and a personal log of telephone calls. As we noted earlier, neither, apparently, ever turned up. Is it not, then, safe to assume that this material evidence of far more importance than any Whitewater documents was among the things illegally removed from the office? It would appear that the decision had been made in the White House that a Mercier-like figure was needed to put his personal stamp upon the suicide-from-depression story, and who would be better for that than an "independent counsel"? His primary attention would be devoted to the safer and much more difficult to understand "Whitewater Affair." That would be the magician's hand that would receive the main notice of the press. A connection had to be made to the Foster death, however, so the counsel's true principal duty could be justified. So the Whitewater leak was made to the Washington Times, and the appointment of putative- Republican New York lawyer, Robert B. Fiske, Jr., followed closely in its wake. It can't be said that Fiske was a well-known public figure with great moral authority. It is perhaps the greatest indictment of the United States as it approaches the 21st century that it is very difficult, indeed, to think of anyone who might fit that description. But, at least, the press was able to make much of the fact that Fiske was a member of the principal opposition party to the president. Little noted was the fact that he had also been a defense counsel for former Democratic Secretary of Defense, Clark Clifford, in the case involving the fraudulent takeover of First American Bank in Washington, DC, by the Pakistan- based Bank of Commerce and Credit International (BCCI). BCCI was the much under-publicized largest criminal conspiracy in history involving the theft of billions of dollars of depositors' money around the world and massive laundering of illegal drug money, among other things. According to the definitive book on BCCI, False Profits, by Peter Truell and Larry Gurwin, the man most responsible for getting BCCI involved in the United States was Jackson Stephens of the brokerage firm of Jackson Stephens Associates of Little Rock, Arkansas. To close the circle, according to a Wall Street Journal report in the wake of Foster's death, Stephens was the largest single client of Little Rock's Rose Law Firm, and the man who had been in charge of the Stephens account before he left for his government job was none other than the Rose firm's top attorney, Vincent W. Foster, Jr. Shortly after Chris Ruddy's first Foster story appeared, Fiske announced that former New York City prosecutor, Roderick C. Lankler, would focus exclusively on the Foster case. Soon after that, leaks helpful to the government's original case began to trickle out of the Fiske shop. Thus began a persistent pattern which, in effect, allowed the government to have its cake and eat it, too. Those who wanted to hear more from witnesses or, at least, to get a look at the evidence which the police had used to conclude suicide, were put off by being told that nothing could be let out because it might interfere with Fiske's ongoing investigation. On the other hand, the press didn't stop referring routinely to Foster's "suicide", as though the fact that the case had been reopened made no difference. On top of that, Fiske, with his leaks could actually reinforce the suicide verdict well in advance of officially rendering one which he would then have to defend. Eventually, enough time might be bought that they could start dismissing the whole matter as "old news". Let us illustrate the usefulness of the strategic Fiske leak. In one of his follow-up stories in the New York Post reporter Ruddy made a mistake and invested too much confidence in the veracity of one of his sources within the Park Police who had originally established his credibility by confirming what the emergency workers had said about the tidy body discovery scene. According to the source, the police had not even taken the most basic crime scene photographs, and this is how Ruddy reported it. Very quickly ABC Television News made public a single leaked photograph which showed a hand grasping a revolver backwards with the thumb on the trigger. The hand with its long, slender fingers looks like Foster's as does the pin-striped pants almost under which the barrel of the gun rests. Behind the hand is a bed of brown leaves. The photo was quickly reproduced in Newsweek and other publications. There was a "gotcha" quality to the ABC and Newsweek reports. Ruddy has been shown up as an irresponsible rumormonger in contrast to the official authorities who had been performing their duties properly all along while under fire from partisan political snipers. No one ever asked how reporter Jim Wooten was chosen to get this one leaked photograph or why he was satisfied with just the one photograph, if, indeed, that was all he was given. He also reported that the photo contradicted the reports by Ruddy that there was little blood in evidence. The viewer had to take the reporter's word for it, however, because blood in any quantity was far from obvious in what was flashed up on the screen, nor could any be clearly seen in the Newsweek reproduction. If the doubts were to be laid to rest, the full collection of crime scene photographs, if they existed, was called for. At any rate, the release of the photograph seemed to have given the government a small victory over the pesky Ruddy, but it might have done more harm than good to the government's case over the long haul, as did the stories leaked out in March to the New York Daily News and in early April to the Wall Street Journal that Fiske had already reached the conclusion that Foster committed suicide, though he didn't render a report until the last day in June. In the FBI report of the interview of Foster's widow, done pursuant to the Fiske inquiry, the following statement appears: "LISA FOSTER believes that the gun found at Fort Marcy Park may be the silver gun which she brought up with her other belongings when she permanently moved to Washington." Later in the same report we find this: "SHARON BOWMAN (one of Foster's two sisters) told LISA FOSTER that FOSTER's father kept a gun by his bed while he was still living, and LISA FOSTER believes that that gun may be the same revolver she was shown by the interviewing agents." (emphasis added) Drawing upon the implications of these statements and similar statements by Lisa in an August 1995 issue of the New Yorker, James Stewart, the author of Blood Sport, goes a bit farther than the Fiske Report and strongly implies that this silver gun was the gun that Foster used to kill himself (Fiske only weakly implies it for the careless reader.) But there was that one released crime-scene photo. The gun was clearly thoroughly black, not silver. Ruddy would also later claim that based upon his interviews with witnesses, the body was not at the site where the police claimed it was. This is not something he would be likely to fabricate because what it means is that all of the Park Police witnesses who said publicly that the body was at a different site would have to be consciously in on a major coverup and obstruction of justice. (Rescue workers who, on the record, describe a site consistent with Ruddy's location would have to be somewhat complicit themselves, too, because they have certainly not publicly attacked the Park Police on this matter.) And what plausible motive could they have to misidentify the site of the body? To maintain that they nevertheless did so obviously makes Ruddy's task of selling his story more difficult. Might he have been intentionally misinformed by his sources so that he would end up looking bad? Well, once again, there's the photograph of the hand with the gun. The body is obviously resting on a bed of brown leaves. At the site where the police tell us the body was found the ground is barren and the leaves that fell there the previous autumn had long since been washed to the bottom of the steeply sloping berm by late July. The background at the Ruddy site matches the photograph exactly while the official site looks nothing like it. When Fiske's report was released on June 30, 1994, it was accompanied by a number of FBI lab reports which have dates of May and June. Mention was made of an expedition out to the park in early April to look for skull fragments or any other organic residue from Foster having shot himself there. The discoveries, as we shall see, don't clearly and obviously support the conclusion of suicide. In large measure they greatly undermine it. We also later discover that Fiske's FBI people made none of their key interviews until May. But the leaks of March and April tell us that Fiske had already reached a suicide conclusion. Indeed, it seems he had, regardless of what the evidence showed. Fiske Weighs in and Falls DownFiske's report is most noteworthy for the startling contrast between its merit, or, rather, its lack of merit and the unanimous acclaim with which it was received by the American news media. This striking unanimity, which included the Wall Street Journal and the Washington Times, was possible because Christopher Ruddy had been dismissed from his reporter's job at the New York Post and had not yet been hired by the small, suburban Pittsburgh Tribune Review. Fiske summarized his conclusions as follows:
Those who would question Fiske's conclusions were said to be indulging in "conspiracy theories" or "talk show fantasies" according to the Washington Post's "news" story, and in its editorial it declared that the report should "satisfy all but the most cynical partisans." Thus did the Post, speaking for the American press in general, foreclose honest debate. Anyone who might not be satisfied with the 58 double-spaced pages of report, accompanied by 91 pages of the resumes of the pathologists, was labeled in advance not just a cynical partisan, but one of the most cynical partisans. Yet, I am writing these words exactly two years and four months after Fiske pronounced his conclusion, and the case of the death of Vincent Foster is still open and ongoing in the federal government's Office of the Independent Counsel. Fiske's conclusions, as it turned out, were not all that definite and final. It's enough to make one wonder if all those reporters who so praised the Fiske Report had actually bothered to read it. There were three obvious reasons why Fiske's report should not have been immediately embraced as the final word on Foster's death. First, he separated his investigation into two parts. The second part was to be addressed to the actions of the White House staff in the hours and days after the death. Did those actions constitute obstruction of justice, and if so, for what purpose? The report that Fiske released did not deal with that question. Second, apart from the FBI lab reports already mentioned and the autopsy report, Fiske gave us very little supporting documentation for his conclusions. The Park Police report was still held back. Fiske talked of conducting 125 interviews, but there were no transcripts of the interviews. What is at least as bad, in contrast to the Whitewater part of his investigation, he had not convened a grand jury to hear the Foster witnesses and none of the testimony had been made under oath. The absence of the threat of a perjury charge seriously weakened the credibility of the testimony. Fiske also told us what a number of Polaroid photographs of the crime scene showed, but the one leaked to ABC remains the only one that the public has been permitted to see. And, in a confessed Park Police “blunder” that should have raised eyebrows, he admitted to the kernel of truth in Chris Ruddy's charge about the crime scene photographs. The 35 mm photos taken by the Park Police crime scene photographer were said to have been spoiled from under- exposure. In light of such a curious development, a critical reader had to wonder if the evidence we weren't shown really did support Fiske's conclusions. Which brings us to the third reason for skepticism. The new evidence that was revealed by Fiske undermined more than it supported the verdict of suicide. In fact, the appendices to Fiske's 58-pager contained some startling new revelations which somehow managed to escape the notice of every single reporter and every single news agency in the United States. |