Julie Burchill does her best Camille Paglia impression today (before Camille went soft on the war). Man, does she nail it:
I’ve just heard a snippet of the most disgustingly me-me-me anti-war advert by Susan Sarandon, in which she intones, “Before our kids start coming home from Iraq in body bags, and women and children start dying in Baghdad, I need to know – what did Iraq do to us?” Well, if you mean what did Saddam do to America The Beautiful, not an awful lot – but to millions of his own people, torture and murder for a start. Don’t they count?
Surely this is the most self-obsessed anti-war protest ever. NOT IN MY NAME! That’s the giveaway. Who gives a stuff about their wet, white, western names? See how they write them so solemnly in a list on the bottom of the letters they send to the papers. And the ones that add their brats’ names are the worst – a grotesque spin on Baby On Board, except they think that this gives them extra humanity points not just on the motorway, but in the whole wide weeping, striving, yearning world. We don’t know the precious names of the countless numbers Saddam has killed. We’re talking about a people – lots of them parents – subjected to an endless vista of death and torture, a country in which freedom can never be won without help from outside.
Amen, sister. The day of reckoning is not just coming for Saddam Hussein. It’s coming for the anti-war movement.
The Dish 