In my profile of William F. Buckley, Jr. in this series, I referred to the dinner with Buckley at which I was an invited guest of Jeffrey Hart writing a story for the daily Dartmouth College student newspaper. Buckley had just returned from Nixon’s historic trip to China and published his cover story on it in the March 17, 1972 issue of National Review. He incorporated part of his published story into the formal speech he gave following dinner.
After posting my profile, I came across a copy of the story that my mom had saved in an old scrapbook. This may be the only story or review I wrote for The Dartmouth that doesn’t embarrass me today even if I sound a little full of myself. As my favorite bard put it, I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now. I thought some readers might find my 1972 story for the college newspaper interesting or amusing and perhaps even timely in its own way. From my back pages, this is what I wrote:
Bill Buckley is such an ingratiating and sagacious man that if one cannot enjoy his company, it must be said said that one takes politics too seriously, or not seriously enough. In preparation for my dinner with Buckley I steeped myself in his polemical writings, from God and Man at Yale to his debate with Steve Allen (yes, that Steve Allen) in a remote and dusty volume title Dialogues in Americanism through his recent journalism, which all, in the end, proved to be gladly beside the point. The point being, of course, to delight in the cultivated conversation of a man who is a master practitioner in the neglected genre of that verbal art — to listen to a man who in many ways lives by the word and by certain fundamental values which are generally obscured in a time of moral relativism.
Along with several faculty members, their wives, and two students from the group sponsoring his appearance, we dine at the Hanover Inn prior to Buckley’s address later in the evening. The conversation begins with Buckley being asked about his trip in the Nixon entourage to China, and he sings the praises of Chinese cooking: “Absolutely spectacular, these being the only encouraging words he would have for China the rest of the evening.
“They would never initiate conversation, Buckley says of the Chinese, “sort of like Bebe Rebozo and it was a form of Chinese courtesy enlightened by the variety of running-dog rhetoric concerning America — any curiosity revealed about our country would show one of our evils. They would ask how many people died of starvation in New York City last year, and I would have to answer eleven million.”
Someone asks him if he had spoken with any reporters who had previously visited China. “The only two reporters who had been there before were Wilfred Burchett and Felix Greene, and I was in the mood to talk to neither of them,” he answers. [The rest of his answer was garbled by The Dartmouth’s pitiful proofreading at the printer.]
Buckley then mentioned the traditional Chinese self-image of the Middle Kingdom, which views China as the center of the world, with other countries occupying the stations of barbarians — a view which requires certain forms of deference. “Did you kowtow?” he is asked. “Of course — kissed ass all over the place.”
So it goes. Talk of China dominates the conversation and Buckley paints a picture of China consisting of factual details supplied in response to various questions. “Oh, I’d hate to live there in China,” remarks one of the women present. He is pleased. She has gotten the point. “It’s definitely not for you and me,” he sayss, meaning anyone brought up on Western norms of values and behavior.
The conversation then turned to more overtly political topics centering around speculation as to a [Ted] Kennedy vice-presidential candidacy. “If the ticket wins, Kennedy would wait eight years to run for president. If it loses, he would become the heir apparent, further lending credibility to his hypothesis by viewing such a candidacy as a penitential act on Kennedy’s part.
I then asked Buckley several questions based on his recent writings. Seemingly flattered, he asked me some personal questions in response. Dinner ended; I thanked him for his attention and his confidences. [He had told me off the record that Kennedy viewed Nixon as unbeatable in 1972.] He wished me well. Overly pleased with myself, I forgot to reciprocate — an omission I hereby intend to remedy by wishing him, with all the feeling that candor and gratitude can command, the very best.
