by David Greenberg

I recently participated in a "talkback"--a question and answer session with the audience--after a performance of "Nixon's Nixon," a wonderful, well-reviewed play being revived at the MCC in New York. The play begins with the famous encounter between Nixon and Henry Kissinger in the Oval Office the night before Nixon's resignation and imagines a delicious scenario in which the two political predators circle each other, each seeking to make sure the other will help him preserve his own reputation, such as it is. Although I would be the last person to minimize the interest that Nixon holds, I found myself more intrigued by the characterization of Henry Kissinger. And several audience members asked: How was it that this man, up to his neck in Watergate-related crimes--indeed, the instigator of the wiretaps on journalists and officials that represented the first chapter of Watergate--has emerged relatively unscathed, while Nixon, for all the talk of his purported comeback, remains in history's doghouse? The question is more vexing considering three recent Kissinger sightings: First, Bob Woodward reported in his new book that Henry has been secretly advising the Bush administration to stay the course in Iraq. Bring home troops, he said, would be like salted peanuts: people would only want more. It's a strange amnesia, seeking advice from Kissinger based on his experience with Vietnam. After all Kissinger's Vietnam policy is generally thought of as one of the most colossal failures in American history. Isn't this like take advice from Jimmy Carter on fighting inflation? Besides, weren't the Bushies supposed to be the ones who rejected Kissingerian declinism in favor of a more vigorous projection of American military power around the globe? Next, I got an invitation to the Council on Foreign Relations' 85th Anniversary Dinner. The speakers: Condi Rice and Kissinger. In light of Woodward's revelation, I can count on getting two apologias for the Bush administration's policies for my $375. Finally, the New York Times Book Review gives him the front-page to review a new biography of Harry S. Truman's Secretary of State Dean Acheson. Editor Sam Tanenhaus has done a bang-up job with the book review, and he's certainly got people talking (howling?) about this assignment. But was it really necessary to let Kissinger get away with calling Acheson, in his lead sentence, "perhaps the most vilified secretary of state in modern American history"? At least Henry had the self-awareness to add the "perhaps."