To a guy with a hammer, everything looks like a nail.  But I can't help seeing this moment of combined military and financial crisis as  a validation of Dwight D. Eisenhower and a repudiation of Ronald Reagan. 
 
Eisenhower figures prominently both in my 2006 film Why  We Fight and my forthcoming book The  American Way of War, so I've been basically living with the guy since  2003. The Ike I've come to know is a fiscal and military conservative with a  healthy skepticism toward the kind of unwarranted conflict in which we are  engaged abroad and the fiscal irresponsibility we are witnessing at home. As the  nation approaches November -- already beleaguered by war and now bracing itself  for the brunt of this banking tsunami -- Eisenhower has much to teach us about  how we lost our way and what we can do to get back. 
Reagan, on the other hand, is long overdue for a rethink. At a time when we  are mired in a tragic foreign conflict invented by his latter-day acolytes and  digging through the wreckage of their corrupt and deregulated economy, the  fullness of Reagan's vision is upon us. But if there can be any silver lining to  these combined crises, it may be to inspire a shift away from America's blind  obsession with Reaganism and a return to the more sober polices that once kept  America secure -- militarily and fiscally. 
What a difference fifty years makes. 
During his presidency, Eisenhower wasn't seen as a very bright light. But  today, he haunts us. First, the Iraq war fulfilled his now legendary 1961  farewell warning about the "military-industrial complex." Back then, he was all  but written off as a kook for suggesting that a shadowy network of corporate and  military actors could lead the country to war for profit or ideology rather than  principle or necessity. Now, as we try to understand how we got into our  domestic financial mess and to what extent it relates to the military mess  overseas, Eisenhower grows more prescient by the minute. Perhaps, too, he can  teach us something about how to respond. 
As president, Eisenhower gave the lie to George Clemenceau's axiom "War is  too important to be left to the generals." As his granddaughter Susan recounted  to me, he was deeply shaken by his experience of World War II and sought to  ensure that no such thing could happen again. As president at the height of the  Cold War, he initiated his controversial "New Look" policy -- a far-reaching  program of defense reduction that pitted him against an entrenched bureaucracy  of military-industrial interests. Fearing not only the direct costs of war but  the disfiguring indirect impact that foreign entanglement can have on the  nation's financial health, Eisenhower described America's conflict with the  Soviet Union as "an unbearable security burden leading to economic disaster." 
Ike's career holds so many such applicable pearls of wisdom, it's best to get  them right from the horse's mouth. In 1953, in one of his first addresses as  President, he made the now legendary Chance for Peace speech, in which he  quantified in brutally simple terms how money spent on defense is diverted from  other areas of national need: 
 
Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired  signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed,  those who are cold and are not clothed... The cost of one modern heavy bomber is  this: a modern brick school in more than 30 cities. It is two electric power  plants, each serving a town of 60,000 population. It is two fine, fully equipped  hospitals. It is some fifty miles of concrete pavement. We pay for a single  fighter plane with a half million bushels of wheat. We pay for a single  destroyer with new homes that could have housed more than 8,000  people.
 As president, Ike's advocacy for military and economic restraint put him at  almost constant loggerheads with the Pentagon over defense expenditures and  pressure from Congress for increased overseas military engagement. While during  the Bush years it has been the Republicans who critique their opponents as soft  on terror, in Eisenhower's time, the party lines were reversed. As Democratic  senators Henry "Scoop" Jackson and John F. Kennedy used the spurious "bomber  gap" and "missile gap" charges to impugn Eisenhower's stewardship of national  security, he resisted pressure by members of both parties to launch a preemptive  nuclear strike against the Soviet Union. 
"God help this country," the embattled President was overheard to say, "when  someone sits at this desk who doesn't know as much about the military as I do." 
With 20/20 hindsight, the regrettable covert activities Eisenhower approved  in Iran, Guatemala, Indochina, and elsewhere, are part of the larger covert  story of how Cold War America came to violate the framers' resistance to foreign  entanglement. It's a tragic story of unintended consequences that leads  uncomfortably to today's quagmire in Iraq. Yet, beyond his role at the dawn of  such covert mischief, Eisenhower did manage to keep America largely out of  conflict for eight years at the height of the Cold War without bankrupting the  country. 
That was then. But today's Republicans are a different breed. This was  confirmed earlier this year when lifelong Republicans John and Susan Eisenhower  -- Ike's son and granddaughter -- opted to break ranks with their party, no  longer able to brook its abandonment of first principles. In this sense, the  current combination of crises is the culmination of a long process by which the  commitment to small government and isolationism that were once the hallmark of  the Republican party have been replaced by Reagan's free-market fundamentalism  and runaway militarism, which have directly and indirectly led to our current  predicament. 
Reagan's renaissance, which culminated in his near-monarchic state funeral  four years ago, coincided with the rise of the neoconservatives in Washington,  all of whom laud him as their political hero. The ever-shifting candidate John  McCain, who appeared in "Why We Fight" and makes a characteristically fitful  appearance in my book, describes Reagan as "our icon, reversing the lesson of  Vietnam in his policy of military strength and support for freedom fighters  around the world." Not surprisingly, McCain's straight talk express is having a  bumpy ride during the current array of crises. In Tuesday's Washington  Post, George Will described McCain as "behaving like a flustered rookie  playing in a league too high." It's a pretty sad day in Mudville when you're  trying to win the hearts of conservatives and George Will accuses you of being  more socialist than FDR. To be fair to John McCain, though, the current crisis  doesn't only reveal a disconnect in his thinking. It uncovers a basic dilemma  over what it means today to be a Republican more broadly. 
The problem, of course, is that you can't really love Reagan and love  Eisenhower at the same time. Eisenhower was a fiscal conservative, military  conservative, and government-bureaucracy conservative. Conversely, Reagan had a  proactive, expansionist view of America's role abroad and a blank-check  enthusiasm for military-industrial corporatism at home. Taken to their logical  extreme, these produce entanglement abroad, economic instability at home, and  now, the big-government solutions that inevitably follow. Of course, it didn't  start that way. Reagan's revolution was sold on a ticket of "small government."  But buyer beware. Now that Reaganomics' warranty has run out, the party of  anti-Communism and small government is proposing to socialize our economy. It  turns out -- and this is what Eisenhower saw so presciently - that you can't  have the neocons' Reaganesque fantasies of military adventurism overseas and  deregulated corporatism at home without paying a price in the long run.  Suddenly, with Joseph Stiglitz assessing the Iraq war's cost at over $3 trillion  and all hell breaking loose in the markets, one-time critics of big government  are standing on Wall Street handing out bailouts like party favors (no pun  intended). 
No wonder it's hard to be John McCain these days -- or any other acolyte of  Reagan -- struggling, after supporting the Iraq war and fighting for Reaganesque  deregulation, to distance yourself from the inconvenient consequences of these  policies. For like his party, McCain bet on the wrong horse, hitching himself  not to the soldierly restraint of Eisenhower but to Reagan's radical fantasy  that a society of foreign entanglement abroad and deregulated trickle-down  economics at home can long endure. So what to do about it? 
Well, I might encourage John McCain and, for that matter, anyone in  Washington who's drunk the Gipper's free-market fundamentalist and gun-toting  expansionist Kool-Aid, to spend a bit more time reading Eisenhower. In  combination, a couple of striking phrases in the farewell address and in an  earlier speech Ike gave upon assuming the presidency of Columbia University may  hold a key to optimizing our reaction. 
"Crises there will continue to be," Eisenhower declared in his farewell  warning. "In meeting them, whether foreign or domestic, great or small, there is  a recurring temptation to feel that some spectacular and costly action could  become the miraculous solution to all current difficulties." 
It's impossible to read these words today and not see the Iraq war as a  "spectacular and costly" reaction to the crisis of 9/11 and Paulson's $700  billion blank check as a "miraculous solution" to our "current difficulties." 
It's too late, of course, to heed Eisenhower's warnings against militarism  and avert the ravages of the Iraq war. But perhaps it's not too late to seek his  economic counsel. Unlike today's profligate Republicans, under whom the deficit  has increased from $6 trillion to over $9 trillion, Eisenhower achieved a  balanced budget for three of his eight years in office, a feat unmatched by any  president in the years since. (Not surprisingly, we saw a similar explosion of  the deficit under Reagan.) Eisenhower's fiscal conservatism, though, wasn't just  a function of knee-jerk penny-pinching or callous, laissez-faire free market  fundamentalism. His was a deeply held vision of the precious balance between  government expenditure and republican liberties. At his inauguration as  President of Columbia University in 1948, he decried that "if carried to the  logical extreme, the final concentration of ownership in the hands of government  gives to it, in all practical effects, absolute power over our lives." 
In his article critiquing McCain's response to the crisis, George Will asked  a pointed question not only about the candidate but about his party: "So, is not  McCain's party now conducting the most leftist administration in American  history?" Will went on to question Paulson's reasoning when he responded to  charges that his bailout was socialist: " this is not socialism, this is  necessary." What Will to his credit is highlighting is the central problem at  this moment for Republicans: how to support the audacious efforts of the White  House to respond to a financial crisis born on its watch by taking over the  banking industry in a way FDR never dreamt of while on the other hand trying to  cling to a coherent Republican ideology. To its own horror, contemporary  republicanism is in danger of becoming the new socialism, and George W. Bush a  modern-day New Dealer. 
In Monday's New York Times, Paul Krugman referred to Paulson's  bailout bill as the"Authorization  for Use of Financial Force," a joking echo of the wording of the Joint House  Resolution that produced the Iraq war by conferring Congress' war-making power  on the president. Beyond Krugman's jibe, though, is a very real concern that  Eisenhower would overwhelmingly share - that just as the country did in the wake  of 9/11 America might respond to the current crisis not with the prudence of  improved oversight but with a radical doctrine of government ownership, marked  by the too familiar stains of cronyism and corruption. 
"We cannot mortgage the material assets of our grandchildren," Eisenhower  hauntingly remarked in his closing words, "without risking the loss also of  their political and spiritual heritage. We want democracy to survive for all  generations to come, not to become the insolvent phantom of tomorrow." 
If, how, and when the current crisis will end is anyone's guess. Somehow it's  always easier to dig oneself into a hole than to claw one's way back out. And  broadly speaking, the question about the bailout does not seem to be whether to  have it, but just what form it should take. This is a complex question -- like  that which faced America after 9/11 -- that requires the time for a textured  consideration. Having ignored Eisenhower's example of military restraint for the  past eight years, perhaps we can cut our economic losses by heeding his example  of fiscal and small-government conservatism. As the White House now demands the  rubber-stamping of its sweeping blank-check bailout with the same fervor it used  to sell Congress on the need to invade Iraq (with the added new twist that  McCain is hinging his appearance at Friday night's debate on the achievement of  a signed bailout), we must remember that Eisenhower, at the height of the Cold  War, did not allow his policymaking to be bullied by those who would allow the  public interest to be "held captive" by private interests. 
For ultimately, Eisenhower understood that misguided national priorities that  place military expansion and unchecked cronyism above other vital aspects of our  national life condemn us to "destroy from within what we are trying to protect  from without." Instead, he argued, crises must be met not by spectacular and  costly exercises of radical governance but through a consistent commitment to  "balance in and among national programs." This requires a holistic understanding  of what makes a nation strong. For Eisenhower understood that an uneducated  country is an undefended country, that a country without adequate health care is  an undefended country, that a country that bullies its friends in the  international community is an undefended country; and, above all, that a country  in which corporate-political corruption has compromised its people's faith in  their leaders is a country they will not fight for. Ultimately, that country -  and the principles on which it was founded -- cannot long endure. 
* * * Eugene Jarecki's 2006 film  Why We Fight won the Grand Jury Prize at the Sundance Film Festival as well  as a Peabody Award. His forthcoming book, The American  Way of War: Guided Missiles, Misguided Men, and a Republic in Peril (Simon  & Schuster/Free Press), will be released October 14th.