Musings on a Verbal Warrior
I've been neglecting this LJ for a while, ever since my schedule became hectic. This Indian thing is a bit crazy.
So, I thought, just because lookingforwater reminded me, and because I've been thinking about it, I would give here a tribute to a man whom many of those on the internet who claim to be "Flame warriors", capable of sending a n00b or an asshat fleeing for their internet lives, should look up to.
Joseph Nye Welch, born in 1890, is a name now mostly forgotten to history, except by those few who hear of him in their American history class, and quickly forget about him. This is the fleeting nature of fame; yesterday's celebrity is today's occupant of the dustbin of history.
To be brutally honest, there is not that much in the life of Mr. Welch that may be seen as incredible. His most famous moment came late in his life, and it never brought him the fame that some others of his profession enjoyed. A lawyer by trade, he was, at the time of his fifteen minutes (or in this case, more than fifteen hours) of fame was the result of his employ with the Boston law firm Hale and Dorr, and his subsequent retainer by the US Army as a special counsel in the defense of their own interests, catapulting him onto the stage of history as a head attorney in one of the most important legal trials of the twentieth century.
If people remember anything from him (for I do not, it was before my time) it was the segment of the trial in which the calm, retiring, Mr. Welch, with politeness, a calm demeanor, and a rapier wit, utterly destroyed, politically, publicly and personally, his opponent, leaving his career and his future in shambles.
In the trial, Welch was pitted against a man, who at the time was extraordinarily influential:
Republican Junior Senator from Wisconsin, Joseph R. McCarthy had already given his name to a witch hunt so merciless and thorough that today's persecutions of suspected terrorists must seem like child's play. He proffered no criminal charges, but his incessant hounding boosted his own popularity while ruining the careers of hundreds and threatening thousands more. Simply an accusation by the man seemed enough to ruin another's life. He was arguably the most powerful demagogue in America, swept high on a tide of paranoia, and fueling that same fervor with an endless succession of investigations. The man who was going to make America safe from Communists now felt, with his power block safely behind him, and already having been challenged by the drafting of G. David Schine, one of his aides, ready to take on that famous abode of communist sympathizers, the US Army.
For thirty-six days, the two sides hammered at each other. On television, McCarthy's aggressive nature, and his impatience, began to become his undoing. In masterwork stroke after masterwork stroke, Welch slowly wore down McCarthy's patience, slowly stung him into a blind rage, and gained the upper hand. But the climax did not come until McCarthy, driven to a blind rage, lashed out at Welch's insistent demands that McCarthy hand over some of the names of the communists currently entrenched in the US Army.
Senator MCCARTHY. Not exactly, Mr. Chairman, but in view of Mr. Welch’s request that the information be given once we know of anyone who might be performing any work for the Communist Party, I think we should tell him that he has in his law firm a young man named Fisher whom he recommended, incidentally, to do work on this committee, who has been for a number of years a member of an organization which was named, oh, years and years ago, as the legal bulwark of the Communist Party, an organization which always swings to the defense of anyone who dares to expose Communists.
Senator McCarthy, having just fingered a man named Fred Fisher, a young lawyer with Hale and Dorr, as a Communist, and by implication fingered Mr. Welch as also being a Communist sympathizer, found that victory this time was ripped from his grasp. Instead of the usual apologies, the satisfying crack of a broken opponent to which he was used to, McCarthy found himself facing something quite different.
The next several minutes of the Army hearings are probably some of the finest moments in American Rhetoric in the twentieth century. In it a demagogue, one of the most powerful and influential men in America, a man feared even by the President, is literally torn to shreds by a man who has just been revealed to have housed a Communist sympathizer. I had the great fortune to listen to that section of the hearings in their entirety, and the effect of the words is magnificent.
Welsh acknowledges that Fred Fisher belonged to the Lawyer's Guild. He acknowledges that he knew this, that Fisher had volunteered this information himself, and that for this reason Welsh had left him behind, to shield the young man from McCarthy's attack. For the sin of attacking a man who has already confessed his sins, who has agreed to withdraw from such a pertinent case due to them, Welsh does not attack McCarthy, does not exchange blows. He merely remonstrates the man, and in doing so, destroys him.
Through the lens of history, it is a spectacular event to watch. You approach the video knowing that McCarthy is one of the great evils that America is responsible for in the post World War II era. You expect, from his stature, from the fear his name generated, a vengeful, brooding Roberpierre, set in his power and obsessed with what enemies he imagines himself to have. Or perhaps a merciless, humorless, iron-masked Grand Inquisitor, a being of iron will and implacable determination, a golem made of flesh. In some sense you can see this within him, the constant anger that drives him. But against the gentle rebukes of Welsh he is slowly unmasked, the facade shattered, until he stands revealed in the middle of the room, a schoolyard bully who has suddenly found that his victims have grown up and no longer fear him, and now finds his existence both void of reason and full of fear. There is no way to describe the way in which McCarthy's anger is so skillfully turned against him, shattering his demeanor until he is nothing more than a raving madman, a pitiful excuse for a human being. And there, throughout it, you can see that he does not understand, that he is little more than a beast.
I will let Welsh speak for himself:
Mr. WELCH. ...Let us not assassinate this lad further, Senator. You have done enough. Have you no sense of decency sir, at long last? Have you left no sense of decency?
...
Senator MCCARTHY. Let me ask Mr. Welch. You brought him down, did you not, to act as your assistant?
Mr. WELCH. Mr. McCarthy, I will not discuss this with you further. You have sat within 6 feet of me, and could have asked me about Fred Fisher. You have brought it out. If there is a God in heaven, it will do neither you nor your cause any good. I will not discuss it further. I will not ask Mr. Cohn any more questions. You, Mr. Chairman, may, if you will, call the next witness.
Historians debate how much of an effect this had. While it is true that McCarthy was essentially politically destroyed after this, it might not be Welch's special genius that did the trick. Exposed on television, any competent lawyer could have taken advantage of McCarthy's weaknesses, and revealed that the man behind the curtain was only an old drunk, given to frequent rages. Perhaps that was his weakness, and the cause of his fall. Perhaps he held within himself his own destruction.
But if this were true, than to supplement that fall, there had to be a Mr. Welch, a branch over which McCarthy's hubris and aggressiveness would have to trip. Perhaps it might have been someone besides Welch, but the point remains that Welch was there, at a pivotal moment in time. It is uncertain whether Welch was doing anything more than trying to win a case, whether he knew about the pivotal moment in American history which rested on his testimony. What the motivations were remain mute to history.
But remember, next time you find yourself angry at the political establishment, this age has not yet ended. Even the strongest, most powerful of demagogues may find themselves weak against the blows of a few softly spoken words. In the end, this may mark the difference that will govern the future of this world. Your freedom of speech is a sacred gift, but it is also a weapon without par. Use it wisely and well.
Thus endeth the sermon
So, I thought, just because lookingforwater reminded me, and because I've been thinking about it, I would give here a tribute to a man whom many of those on the internet who claim to be "Flame warriors", capable of sending a n00b or an asshat fleeing for their internet lives, should look up to.
Joseph Nye Welch, born in 1890, is a name now mostly forgotten to history, except by those few who hear of him in their American history class, and quickly forget about him. This is the fleeting nature of fame; yesterday's celebrity is today's occupant of the dustbin of history.
To be brutally honest, there is not that much in the life of Mr. Welch that may be seen as incredible. His most famous moment came late in his life, and it never brought him the fame that some others of his profession enjoyed. A lawyer by trade, he was, at the time of his fifteen minutes (or in this case, more than fifteen hours) of fame was the result of his employ with the Boston law firm Hale and Dorr, and his subsequent retainer by the US Army as a special counsel in the defense of their own interests, catapulting him onto the stage of history as a head attorney in one of the most important legal trials of the twentieth century.
If people remember anything from him (for I do not, it was before my time) it was the segment of the trial in which the calm, retiring, Mr. Welch, with politeness, a calm demeanor, and a rapier wit, utterly destroyed, politically, publicly and personally, his opponent, leaving his career and his future in shambles.
In the trial, Welch was pitted against a man, who at the time was extraordinarily influential:
Republican Junior Senator from Wisconsin, Joseph R. McCarthy had already given his name to a witch hunt so merciless and thorough that today's persecutions of suspected terrorists must seem like child's play. He proffered no criminal charges, but his incessant hounding boosted his own popularity while ruining the careers of hundreds and threatening thousands more. Simply an accusation by the man seemed enough to ruin another's life. He was arguably the most powerful demagogue in America, swept high on a tide of paranoia, and fueling that same fervor with an endless succession of investigations. The man who was going to make America safe from Communists now felt, with his power block safely behind him, and already having been challenged by the drafting of G. David Schine, one of his aides, ready to take on that famous abode of communist sympathizers, the US Army.
For thirty-six days, the two sides hammered at each other. On television, McCarthy's aggressive nature, and his impatience, began to become his undoing. In masterwork stroke after masterwork stroke, Welch slowly wore down McCarthy's patience, slowly stung him into a blind rage, and gained the upper hand. But the climax did not come until McCarthy, driven to a blind rage, lashed out at Welch's insistent demands that McCarthy hand over some of the names of the communists currently entrenched in the US Army.
Senator MCCARTHY. Not exactly, Mr. Chairman, but in view of Mr. Welch’s request that the information be given once we know of anyone who might be performing any work for the Communist Party, I think we should tell him that he has in his law firm a young man named Fisher whom he recommended, incidentally, to do work on this committee, who has been for a number of years a member of an organization which was named, oh, years and years ago, as the legal bulwark of the Communist Party, an organization which always swings to the defense of anyone who dares to expose Communists.
Senator McCarthy, having just fingered a man named Fred Fisher, a young lawyer with Hale and Dorr, as a Communist, and by implication fingered Mr. Welch as also being a Communist sympathizer, found that victory this time was ripped from his grasp. Instead of the usual apologies, the satisfying crack of a broken opponent to which he was used to, McCarthy found himself facing something quite different.
The next several minutes of the Army hearings are probably some of the finest moments in American Rhetoric in the twentieth century. In it a demagogue, one of the most powerful and influential men in America, a man feared even by the President, is literally torn to shreds by a man who has just been revealed to have housed a Communist sympathizer. I had the great fortune to listen to that section of the hearings in their entirety, and the effect of the words is magnificent.
Welsh acknowledges that Fred Fisher belonged to the Lawyer's Guild. He acknowledges that he knew this, that Fisher had volunteered this information himself, and that for this reason Welsh had left him behind, to shield the young man from McCarthy's attack. For the sin of attacking a man who has already confessed his sins, who has agreed to withdraw from such a pertinent case due to them, Welsh does not attack McCarthy, does not exchange blows. He merely remonstrates the man, and in doing so, destroys him.
Through the lens of history, it is a spectacular event to watch. You approach the video knowing that McCarthy is one of the great evils that America is responsible for in the post World War II era. You expect, from his stature, from the fear his name generated, a vengeful, brooding Roberpierre, set in his power and obsessed with what enemies he imagines himself to have. Or perhaps a merciless, humorless, iron-masked Grand Inquisitor, a being of iron will and implacable determination, a golem made of flesh. In some sense you can see this within him, the constant anger that drives him. But against the gentle rebukes of Welsh he is slowly unmasked, the facade shattered, until he stands revealed in the middle of the room, a schoolyard bully who has suddenly found that his victims have grown up and no longer fear him, and now finds his existence both void of reason and full of fear. There is no way to describe the way in which McCarthy's anger is so skillfully turned against him, shattering his demeanor until he is nothing more than a raving madman, a pitiful excuse for a human being. And there, throughout it, you can see that he does not understand, that he is little more than a beast.
I will let Welsh speak for himself:
Mr. WELCH. ...Let us not assassinate this lad further, Senator. You have done enough. Have you no sense of decency sir, at long last? Have you left no sense of decency?
...
Senator MCCARTHY. Let me ask Mr. Welch. You brought him down, did you not, to act as your assistant?
Mr. WELCH. Mr. McCarthy, I will not discuss this with you further. You have sat within 6 feet of me, and could have asked me about Fred Fisher. You have brought it out. If there is a God in heaven, it will do neither you nor your cause any good. I will not discuss it further. I will not ask Mr. Cohn any more questions. You, Mr. Chairman, may, if you will, call the next witness.
Historians debate how much of an effect this had. While it is true that McCarthy was essentially politically destroyed after this, it might not be Welch's special genius that did the trick. Exposed on television, any competent lawyer could have taken advantage of McCarthy's weaknesses, and revealed that the man behind the curtain was only an old drunk, given to frequent rages. Perhaps that was his weakness, and the cause of his fall. Perhaps he held within himself his own destruction.
But if this were true, than to supplement that fall, there had to be a Mr. Welch, a branch over which McCarthy's hubris and aggressiveness would have to trip. Perhaps it might have been someone besides Welch, but the point remains that Welch was there, at a pivotal moment in time. It is uncertain whether Welch was doing anything more than trying to win a case, whether he knew about the pivotal moment in American history which rested on his testimony. What the motivations were remain mute to history.
But remember, next time you find yourself angry at the political establishment, this age has not yet ended. Even the strongest, most powerful of demagogues may find themselves weak against the blows of a few softly spoken words. In the end, this may mark the difference that will govern the future of this world. Your freedom of speech is a sacred gift, but it is also a weapon without par. Use it wisely and well.
Thus endeth the sermon