For those who enjoy the opinions of Victor Davis Hanson (in a recent column), I encourage you to read his book, "An Autumn of War," which is most informative and opinionated and will better enlighten you on some historic military actions from early Greece to date.
Hanson has written or edited 11 books and numerous articles for The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal and other publications. He was educated at the University of California and the American School of Classical Studies in Athens and received his doctorate in classics from Stanford University.
He farmed full-time for five years before returning to academia in 1984 to initiate a classics program at California State University. Currently he is a professor of classics there and coordinator of the Classical Studies Program. Hanson also is a senior fellow of the Hoover Institute at Stanford University.
His book would be an excellent assignment for those faculty members (and their students) who have a passion for seeking the truth, whether they agree or disagree with his opinions.
I'm sharing the following column by Hanson because it discusses how far probably the richest, most innovative state in the nation has declined because of its liberal tax-and-spend governmental policies and relaxed educational standards.
The nation can learn from California's failed experiment.
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Our Terminator
Will he end decades of squander in desperate California? Only Arnold Schwarzenegger could get away with praising Richard Nixon and repeating the line "girlie-men" in a thick Germanic accent -- and in prime time at a national convention. It is equally amazing that he is a Republican governor of an overwhelmingly Democratic state, surrounded by Democratic state assemblymen and senators -- and after beating a career Latino Democratic insider to replace a twice-elected career Democratic governor. How could this be?
Schwarzenegger is a cult icon, a savvy student of human nature and a formidable media presence. But Arnold's meteoric political rise was also a sign of the times of how desperate things were getting in California -- and how its populace was forced to think the unthinkable in questioning its accepted laid-back way of business.
California had somehow managed to run up a $38 billion dollar shortfall. It produces the worst schools in the nation. Entitlements skyrocketed; so did the size of state government. It has the country's largest penal industry and a decrepit transportation system -- despite having nearly the highest sales and income taxes in America. It wasn't always so.
California is a naturally rich state. Almost everything combines in abundance to give us unimagined bounty-temperate weather, rich soil, a 1,000-mile coastline, timber, oil, minerals and deep ports. Where else can one ski in alpine snow and then be on a sunny beach within four hours?
In such a blessed landscape, an earlier generation had created a booming defense industry, Silicon Valley, trade windows to Asia, unrivaled agribusiness, Hollywood and a mecca for global tourism. Former governors had fueled such successes by crafting the nation's best university system, model freeways and state-of-the-art airports. The much maligned California lifestyle was, in fact, an admirable informality and unity that allowed almost anyone of any class and race to reinvent himself on the basis of merit and find success without aristocratic prejudice. Intermarriage, integration and the melting pot in California were models for the nation.
But the 1980s and 1990s were not kind to the state. Drunk with natural endowment and a prior generation's hard work and generous investment, we coasted -- and then squandered our human and natural legacy in little over a decade. Our California State University, the world's largest system, embraced a de facto open admissions policy. It politicized its curriculum, unionized its faculty -- and ended up with nearly half its freshmen in remedial classes and its baccalaureate degrees mere certification rather than proof of education.
Cheap labor from Mexico in restaurants, on farms and in construction seemed an ideal subsidy of an upper middle-class lifestyle. Millions of illegal newcomers were also welcomed in by a politically opportunistic La Raza academic and political cadre. Then we learned that the combination of multicultural gobble-de-gook and labor exploitation resulted in an Hispanic drop-out rate of 40 percent in our high schools, with concurrent loud demands for everything from drivers licenses to university tuition discounts for over five million illegal aliens.
We went from one extreme of judges who coddled criminals to the other of a unionized vast penal bureaucracy delighted to welcome them in at near criminal costs. Our government became a cash register, dispensing therapeutic advice on self-esteem, crafting arcane regulations and soaking small business. There is no need to mention the state's infamous Workers' Compensation mess. California's power supply, once cheap and plentiful, became America's most expensive and unreliable. Wall Street's bond traders wanted nothing to do with the mess.
The result by 2003 was not merely a state that was ungovernable, but one that had collided with the law of physics of too much going out and too little coming in. Residents with capital and expertise left and those without them entered. Sometime last year the entire system began to unravel.
Mr. Schwarzenegger is in no need of further fame. He is already wealthy. Arnold married into status and connections. He cannot be President. Instead, this old-style immigrant saw the plague raging and wished to terminate it.
So the slow work of renewal begins, pruning wasteful programs, reforming education, stopping further tax increases, curbing regulations, demanding accountability from our universities and questioning de facto open borders with Mexico and the enshrined taboo that there is no such word as illegal alien.
Will Arnold pull it off? He must because it is our eleventh hour. There is nothing more that our ancestors and nature can do for us, the perpetually pampered. A sick California is ours now to lose or save.
Gary Rust is the chairman of Rust Communications.
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