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To: Tom Clarke who wrote (14951)6/18/2002 2:43:39 PM
From: Win Smith  Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 21057
 
Len Garment had a book a couple years ago that pegged Deep Throat as John Sears. Sears was pretty unknown at the time. For what it's worth, this review of Garment's book has some stuff which points away from Buchanan. Sears denies it, of course. From query.nytimes.com :

One figure stands out as indispensable to Garment's search. That is Woodward himself. Woodward, of course, has declined to identify Deep Throat. But as Garment tells it he regularly dropped bread crumbs that kept the trail visible. He announced that Alexander Haig was not Deep Throat so the question would not hang over Haig's 1988 presidential campaign. He ''waved me off'' Patrick Gray of the F.B.I., Garment reports. He told John Dean during an author's tour that Deep Throat had been publicly identified but had denied being Deep Throat. Then Garment asked Woodward (over lunch, naturally) why Deep Throat had not simply come forward himself, since much of the country would now consider him a hero: ''Woodward answered that, in 1972 and early 1973, Deep Throat had been, if not wholly unknown, at least relatively anonymous. In the years since then, Deep Throat's 'public persona' -- Woodward's exact words -- had changed. His 'public persona' after Watergate was inconsistent with his actions during Watergate days.''

From this Garment surmises that Deep Throat's post-Watergate clients, audience or constituency might not have approved of his role consorting with a reporter from The Washington Post. For a long time, this led him to believe that Deep Throat was Robert F. Bennett, who at the time ran a public relations company with strong ties to both the White House and the C.I.A. Bennett went on to become a senator from the conservative state of Utah. Over time, this theory collapsed, however. The facts didn't fit together. Deep Throat as portrayed by Woodward and Bernstein was a smoker and a drinker. Senator Bennett is a devout Mormon. Crushed and depressed by the failure of his Bennett theory, Garment has a eureka moment in 1999, while reading an article in a journalism review criticizing Woodward. He has accepted at face value most of Woodward's claims about Deep Throat, but he comes to realize, he writes, that Woodward might be literally honest but, shall we say, cagey in the impressions he leaves. This leads him to believe that Sears was both a source for Bernstein (which Sears confirms) and at the same time Deep Throat to Woodward. To Garment's eye Sears, who as a northeasterner (from Syracuse) was always somewhat suspect on the right, fit the portrait of someone little known at the time of Watergate whose later professional persona was at odds with the role played by Deep Throat: his career, one way or another, was still bound up with Republican politics.

One small mystery at the end of this book is that Woodward, so visible throughout, just vanishes. There is no lunch at which he waves Garment off the Sears theory or nods knowingly but refuses to confirm or deny it. So I did what most readers will not be able to do. I called Woodward, who dismissed Garment's theory. ''He's got it wrong,'' Woodward said. ''Sears does not fit the description.'' When Deep Throat was described in ''All the President's Men'' as someone high in the executive branch, it was meant literally, Woodward said; Deep Throat was not, as Garment has it, someone who had close ties high in the executive branch.

So all we are left with is the denials of Sears and Woodward, and Garment's conviction that he has solved the riddle. ''When I finally concluded that John Sears was Deep Throat, I realized that I had discovered not just the answer to one particular puzzle but something more general -- sobering and a little bit saddening -- about American politics of the past 25 years,'' Garment concludes.

''My opinion is that Sears took the actions he did because of mixed motives, as is the case with all humans; but if there was a dominant political impulse moving him, it was a sense that the marriage of realism and idealism in our politics, a delicate union to begin with, was on the rocks. The political arena, he thought, was in danger of becoming just a war between the knife-wielders and the moralists. Sears was right, of course; he could not have known that the drama of which he was a part was about to drive the wedge between the two camps even deeper.''

If John Sears, the thoughtful, even occasionally poetic believer in politics, was Deep Throat, let us hope he will leave us his own book on how he feels about the world he helped create.



To: Tom Clarke who wrote (14951)6/21/2002 9:38:29 AM
From: Lane3  Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 21057
 
King George
The role of Stephanopoulos in our constitutional system.

By Michael Kinsley
Friday, June 21, 2002; Page A25

This is a jittery moment in our country. We await al Qaeda's next move, while the War on Terrorism has melted into a game of shuffle-the-boxes on the government organization chart. Every politician in America has been on television warning Saddam Hussein that he's got just a few months to use those weapons of mass destruction we're darned sure he's got. The stock market and the economy are torturing us with their indecision. And look, is there global warming or what?

But America is blessed. We have an institution designed to provide a soothing balm of continuity in turbulent times like these. It functions the way the British Royal Family is supposed to: as a human symbol of the nation. As a sump for adoration that might otherwise be misdirected at political leaders and go dangerously to their heads. As a front of national unity behind which politicians at all levels can bicker and carp.

This institution is, of course, the Television News Anchorhood, of which there are two sorts. Each has its own vital role in our constitutional system. First, there is the Evening News Anchor. This person's burden is to reassure us, by describing all developments in a similar tone for the same block of time every night, that all news is equally important -- and therefore not very. Half an hour of Dan Rather's bug-eyed alarm or an hour of Jim Lehrer's wry twinkle: It hardly matters. Consistency is what counts.

Second, there is the Sunday Talk Show Anchor. These Sunday shows have evolved into crucial rituals of democracy in which elected and appointed officials expose themselves publicly to whatever form of humiliation the anchor and a couple of colleagues may devise. (Verbal humiliation only, so far -- although CBS is said to be working on an interesting variant.) The Sunday Anchor must embody all of the nation's conflicting feelings about those who exercise power over us. Contempt, deference and bonhomie must all be on display simultaneously. NBC "Meet the Press" anchor Tim Russert's gift for saying, in effect, "With all due respect, Senator, you're a lying bastard. Bowling next Tuesday?" -- and not any physical resemblance, which is slight at best -- is why so many Americans compare his role in our national life to that of Britain's late Queen Mother.

But just when we need calm and continuity the most, all is chaos in Anchordom. The last of the classic authority-figure baritones in the tradition of Walter Cronkite, Bernard Shaw of CNN, is already gone. NBC's Tom Brokaw has given us two years to prepare for the shock of his retirement and the ascension of Brian Williams, who is regarded as utterly different in ways that may not be apparent to the naked eye. Rather of CBS and Peter Jennings of ABC are also starting to get the "Are you still here?" media treatment.

Most traumatic of all for a nation on edge, the David Brinkley chair at ABC's "This Week" is being entrusted to George Stephanopoulos, the former Clinton administration wunderkind. All of our fears about the future are currently being sublimated into one nervous question: Can a former partisan political operative rise above politics to perform this crucial monarchal function?

I wouldn't worry about it if I were you. Even the sainted Russert was a Democratic Party apparatchik in his salad days, yet his ideology these days seems to be precisely the vague, sentimental, non-partisan high-mindedness appropriate to his station. How does this happen?

First, keep in mind that news anchors, like other constitutional monarchs, are primarily figureheads. TV news is an odd business in which one group of people -- the on-air "talent" -- gets all the appearance and deference and money and perks of being in charge, while another group -- the producers -- have most of the burden and power of being in charge. America's evening news anchors, unlike the British royals, are capable of intelligent thought, and often prove as much, but their core function of reading a teleprompter requires little of it. The Sunday morning anchors, who ask questions and lead discussions, have more autonomy but less than they appear to have. Especially at first. Stephanopoulos's opportunity to turn "This Week" into Democratic Party propaganda is more limited than it seems.

Second, there is no reason to suppose that Stephanopoulos would sacrifice his commercial interests to his partisan interests. Like everyone else on earth, he wants to be a television star. And now he has an opportunity to be one. Nothing in his past suggests that he would risk squandering this opportunity in order to advance the agenda of the Democratic Party, even if -- unlike everyone else on earth -- he knows what that agenda might be.

Third, it would not be so terrible if Stephanopoulos and "This Week" were overtly biased, or the other TV news anchorhoods as well. The TV news anchor I find myself watching most is Brit Hume of Fox News. He brims with bias, and it's a bias I don't share. But his freedom to be biased is also freedom to be intelligent. You get the news as filtered through an interesting mind.

Fox News is a brilliant experiment in overt, honest bias -- the broadcast equivalent of its owner Rupert Murdoch's flagship right-wing tabloid newspaper, the New York Post. It has stripped a whole layer of artifice from TV news. What almost ruins everything is the network's comically dishonest insistence that it is not what it obviously is. I would love to know what Hume is thinking when he repeats with apparent sincerity the Fox News mantra, "Fair and balanced as always." Fox is usually fair but rarely balanced. In fact it is a good example of how you can be the one without the other.

It's a compliment to Fox, though, that a viewer wonders what its anchor is thinking, rather than whether he is thinking. There is a lesson here for George Stephanopoulos.

Or at least for his producers.

© 2002 The Washington Post Company