According to Webster's, Randall Harold Cunningham – in this space, he's been stripped of the macho honorific "Duke," as well as the endearing "Randy" – is a confessed traitor.
As a congressman, he betrayed his country. He may not be guilty of treason in the law books but, at least in the dictionaries, he is.
Cunningham sold his allegiance to his sovereign state for money and property. Period.
That's a bitter horse pill to swallow, especially for those who have followed Cunningham's 15-year congressional career. No one – no one – waved the flag with more gusto than the former Top Gun fighter pilot, the Navy ace tested and shaped in the crucible of Vietnam.
In contemplating Cunningham's ironic downfall, I found myself thinking about the traitor who typically gets the most rise out of veterans, especially Vietnam veterans.
You know her as "Hanoi Jane" Fonda, the most reviled woman in U.S. military history (with the possible exception of Tokyo Rose).
During the last presidential campaign, Cunningham reacted angrily to a photograph showing Sen. John Kerry and Fonda at the same 1970 peace rally.
"When (Kerry) stands up with Jane Fonda," Cunningham fumed, "someone that is so notorious and hated by veterans . . . it diminishes the service some of us almost gave our lives for, and the over 56,000 people that lost their lives – it slaps families in the face."
At the risk of ruffling both political wings, I'm posing a short essay question: Who is the greater traitor to America, Fonda or Cunningham?
In this brief moral audit, we'll begin with the betrayal, move to the apology and end with the effects of the separate treacheries.
To refresh dimming memories, Fonda went to North Vietnam in 1972. While there, she propagandized on behalf of the enemy, concluded that the American POWs were being treated humanely and condemned U.S. soldiers as "war criminals."
On the Internet, Fonda's actions relating to POWs have been falsely embroidered, but there's no disputing that the American movie star gave comfort to the enemy – and pain to POWs and their families. She was famously photographed while pretending to aim an anti-aircraft gun at American planes.
At the time, Fonda was an impressionable young woman who believed that the North Vietnamese, the ultimate victors, were on the right side of history. Others in the United States shared that view, but their voices were not amplified by celluloid celebrity.
Now fast-forward to a few weeks after 9/11. An East Coast antique store delivered three nightstands, a leaded glass cabinet, a wash stand, a buffet and four armoires to Cunningham's address. The $12,000 bill was paid by a defense contractor who, one can deduce, hoped to cash in on the traumatized nation's call to arms.
During the next four years, Cunningham would continue to accept more than $2 million in secret bribes.
In Vietnam, Fonda's far-leftist beliefs blinded her to the human consequences of her behavior. But it seems clear that her actions were based on sincere convictions, without any thought of material gain. In her view, she was a principled counterweight to a U.S. government staying a misguided course. Hers was a traitorous course guided by naive idealism.
Cunningham's, on the other hand, was a concealed course of personal avarice, an appetite for luxury trumping his ballyhooed love of country. He lapped up bribes and, when exposed, denied everything until the law closed in. He then copped a plea and sobbed out his public confession, promising to atone for his corruption and cooperate with investigators.
By limiting her specific contrition to posing with the anti-aircraft gun, Fonda finessed her guilt. Though she's offered general apologies, she never atoned, at least in the eyes of unforgiving veterans.
Did Fonda make things worse for POWs and their families? Did she change the trajectory of the war?
To the first question, you can say yes. At the least, she was a tool in enhancing the POW anguish.
To the second, probably not. By the end of '72, American troops were streaming out of Vietnam; B-52s were taking up the slack, delivering some of the heaviest bombing raids of the war to prop up the South Vietnamese. The American will to fight was already sapped. Fonda was propaganda frosting, not the cake.
At this point, it's unclear what effect, if any, Cunningham's treachery had on the war. His was a sleazy white-collar crime, conceivably closer to Enron's than Benedict Arnold's.
In accepting money from defense contractors, Cunningham did what many powerful politicians do. But he was stupid and greedy. He bypassed the middlemen, or campaign treasurers, and pocketed the money so he could live in the padded lap of luxury. In return, he helped cronies win contracts, possibly compromising the well-being of American troops.
The bottom line of this quick treason audit?
Fonda was a young idealist who behaved stupidly, rubbing salt into raw psychic wounds; Cunningham was a young war hero who turned into an old war profiteer, wiping his greasy mouth on the flag.
Go ahead, pick your greater traitor.
Logan Jenkins can be reached at (760) 737-7555 or by e-mail at logan.jenkins@uniontrib.com.
