Suharto’s dead, NYT: “nothing to see here”

Democracy Now dedicated a full hour today to the recent death of former Indonesian dictator Suharto who, with full American and British military support, was responsible for an estimated 200,000 East Timorese deaths in the worst instance of genocide, relative to population, since the Holocaust.  Further, 300,000 to 1 million Indonesians were killed, under Suharto, with the help of the CIA in their putative fight against communism. Suharto privatized industry and handed over Indonesia’s natural resources to transnational corporations.  He, the U.S., and Britain benefited while Indonesians suffered and died. Unlike Saddam Hussein in his 1990 invasion of Kuwait, Suharto put money into elite western pockets  rather than raid those pockets. (see here)
Meanwhile, I checked the “liberal” New York Times to see how they had treated Suharto’s death.  I couldn’t find anything on the front page so I did a search.  “Suharto is Mourned in Indonesia” popped up.  21 eulogizing paragraphs plus one  paragraph sandwiched in the middle acknowledging that “he ruled Indonesia by force and fear, and was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people.” No mention of U.S. involvement in those deaths of course.  Cause that’s not relevant.   Some highlights: “the sky over the mountain opened in a powerful thunderstorm — weeping for the death of a fallen leader, in the belief of Javanese mystics”; his daughter apologized for her father being such a ruthless dickhead, then spoke directly to him: “Only God can repay you for your goodness. Farewell, Father. We send our prayers.”

Another NYT article titled “Suharto Dies at 86; Indonesian Dictator Brought Order and Bloodshed”, by Seth Mydans, offered some hope of less misleading coverage.
But alas, the same story. “…good fortune came to him. Just as the United States was becoming embroiled in Vietnam, he stood as a bulwark against Communism in Asia. The United States rewarded him with a foreign aid program that eventually amounted to more than $4 billion a year. In addition, a consortium of Western countries and Japan established an aid program that in 1994 alone totaled almost $5 billion.” What a fucking hero.  Standing so bravely against democratic movements connected to the Soviet Union only in the minds of the most twisted CIA operatives.  Oh, and democratic movements that were in other countries.  He invaded a democratic country newly freed from Western imperialism.  “Bulwark” is defined, according to dictionary.com, as “protection against external danger, injury, or annoyance.” Goddamn peaceful democrats, so annoyingly living in their country next to a murderous dictator.

Mydans covers a lot of Suharto’s abuses but doesn’t come close to criticism of U.S. support.  Suharto’s a bad guy, the U.S. needed a bulwark, next question please.

The Canvasser

A sweaty college girl in a downtown Atlanta neighborhood, pamphlets and clipboard in hand, takes a seat on a park bench. It’s a July afternoon and it’s damn hot. She’s been walking since lunch. Her head’s a bit fuzzy from the heat, and images of blurry mansions cycle through her head, their long brick stairways always slithering upwards in fear of the street. She slaps a mosquito on her forehead, a little blood and irritation.

Finishing her bottled water, she gets up re-energized, ready to do some serious climbing. I still have 2 hours of daylight, she thinks, looking at her watch.

After a long climb, she recites some pre-scripted introductory remarks about saving the state park to a middle-aged man standing at the gate of his hilltop fortress. He writes a check for $50, half for the environment, the other half for the solicitor. Her first big score of the day.

He was surprisingly nice, she decides, as she follows a convenient path to the next house to avoid the long descent to the street. Knock, knock. No answer. A lone drop of rain smacks her forehead as she hurries on to the next mansion, again taking the high road. She hadn’t noticed the approaching clouds. This is gonna suck. She rings a bell and again, no response. Not home from your bullshit corporate job yet, huh, asshole?, she denounces the imaginary white guy.

Oh shit, she mumbles as a downpour hammers the sidewalk and she scurries to the next porch. A trio of brown-skinned workers below has made it to their Japanese pickup and packed themselves in tightly. An old woman looks out her window across the street. The canvasser clings to her clipboard, impatiently watching the rain assault an unusually bright green lawn, wondering if her boss will be pissed about her pathetic day’s work, her third bad day in a row.  This is a nice friggin’ porch. I wonder how much…wow… The dirty brown water, growing to a torrent, follows the winding steps to the street.

Cannibals and Dogs

“Cannibals like people and so do dogs, but for different reasons.” source: some drunk guy, last night, in his own head