William F. Buckley has died. What a tremendous loss this is to American conservatism, and to American politics. The man was a giant, an absolute giant. The past 50 years in US political life would have been inconceivable without him. There is no one left to take his place. Will we ever see his like on the Right again?
I love this:
He was found at his desk in the study of his home, his son said. “He might have been working on a column,” Mr. Buckley said.
He never stopped writing. That was Bill Buckley. Every writer wants to be like him, or should.
I've just gotten the news, and I'm a little bit shaken up, in part because I briefly worked for him, as you know, was the beneficiary of his hospitality at his table, and because I revere the man. So I'm sure I'll have more to say later. The thing that occurs to me at the moment is how civil he was. I've mentioned before in this space what a great example he was in that regard. On the occasions I had dinner with National Review editors at the Buckleys' townhouse in Manhattan, there would always be an Ur-liberal present. Once it was Ira Glasser, the former ACLU head, and the next time it was Mark Green, the NYC politician. It was fascinating to watch Bill -- and he insisted that he be called Bill, signaling to me to knock off the Mr. Buckley stuff -- interrogate these opponents with intellectual seriousness, but also with unfailing respect and courtesy. He didn't care for their political opinions, but he liked them as people, even as friends. He was the kind of man who, though absolutely clear in his dismissal of liberal ideas, would not stoop to trashing someone's character for the sake of political gain.
There will be lots of talk today and for the next few days about Bill's tremendous role in reshaping American politics of the 20th century. As there should be. But today, I prefer to remember Bill as a kind and good man. The experience with Bill of my old NR colleague John J. Miller was precisely my own:
With respect to what he's like—I'm having trouble using the past tense here—I always say: He's probably the most gracious man I've known. He is of course a legend on the Right, and legends can be intimidating. The first time we met, my agenda was simply to avoid saying anything dumb in his presence. Yet he instantly sought to put me at ease. He asked what I was writing about and seemed genuinely curious to know. He listened to me, rather than the other way around. To my surprise, I was comfortable around him—because he had a special ability for making folks like me feel that way.
Yes. Every man and woman wants to be like him, or should.
Now he joins his beloved wife Pat, who died not long ago. Just this past weekend, Julie and I were talking about the time we went to the Buckleys' Connecticut house on the water, and we were both kind of intimidated by the indomitable Mrs. Buckley. Then she sat down next to Julie and they started talking about gardening, and the evil of squirrels. Pat, with her smoker's cackle, said she used to lie in bed upstairs at their place and take aim with her .22 rifle at the little bulb-eating bastards in the yard. It was hilarious to hear her this locked-and-loaded socialite talk about her adventures in gardening with gunpowder. Julie and I laughed in recalling the humanity of the Buckleys. That's how they are.
Were.
Sigh. Requiescat in pace.
(National Review's coverage here.)
Add to Del.icio.us
Add to Technorati
Add to Digg
Add to Newsvine
Add to Facebook
Add to StumbleUpon
Subscribe
While liberals tend to view history as being made by classes, castes and processes, conservatives like Bill Buckley tend to believe history is made by men.
His life stands as evidence that men make history.
Raised left-liberal (new deal parents and all that) I had no use for Bill Buckley when I was younger. Then at about 20, I was staying in a house where a weathered copy of "Man and God at Yale" was sitting in an out-of-the-way bookshelf in the room I was sleeping in. It tempted me as a pornographic magazine might tempt a staunch moralist. Finally, privately and hidden, I read it and he had me. It was many years before my conversion to conservatism was complete but I can reasonably state that it began that night.
So long Bill, you will be missed.
Heard him speak; both of epic proportions and down to earth at the same time (how is that possible?) My heart is sad to know he's passed. May he rest in peace.
He was, as he said of others, a bird of paradise.
Re his insulting Vidal-- Vidal had just called him a Nazi. I think a bit of overreaction was forgivable.
Yeah, Vidal had just called him a Nazi and it was perhaps one of the most stressful nights in the most stressful year in American politics and American civility was pushed to the breaking point.
I was 12 years old that year, with a budding interest in politics. Like my parents, my sympathies were, and are still not where Buckley's were. We were liberal Gene McCarthy supporters. But Buckley was the star of ABC's limited convention coverage, which I think started at 9:30 or 10:00 whereas the other two wealthier networks, in those days were doing near gavel to gavel coverage. We would turn to ABC as soon as their broadcast started. He was a charismatic presence to a 12 year old political junkie. I got my first library fine that fall for not returning a National Review I had checked out on time. He never really converted me though.
Of course WFB wasn't a nazi, but Vidal really was a "fag" (N.B. the f-word is Buckley's own in recounting the incident years later, a word that has the resonance today that "queer" had at the time). God bless 'em both. No harm no foul, I say.
Post a Comment
By submitting these comments, I agree to the beliefnet.com terms of service, rules of conduct and privacy policy (the "agreements"). I understand and agree that any content I post is licensed to beliefnet.com and may be used by beliefnet.com in accordance with the agreements.