The successor personality which emerged from this upheaval differed in several
important respects from the George Bush who had sought and occupied the vice-
presidency. The George Bush who emerged in late 1990 after the dust had settled was far
less restrained than the man who had languished in Reagan's shadow. The hyperthyroid
"presidential" persona of Bush was equipped with little self-control, and rather featured a
series of compulsive, quasi-psychotic episodes exhibited in the public glare of the
television lights. These were typically rage-induced outbursts of verbal abuse and threats
made in the context of international crises, first against Noriega and later against Iraqi
president Saddam Hussein.
Some might argue that the public rage fits that became increasingly frequent during
1989-90 were calculated and scripted performances, calibrated and staged according to
the methods of mind war for the express purpose of intimidating foreign adversaries and,
not least of all, the American population itself. Bush's apprenticeship with Kissinger
would have taught him the techniques we have seen Kissinger employ in his secret
communications with Moscow during the Indo-Pakistani war of 1970: Kissinger makes
clear that an integral part of his crisis management style is the studied attempt to
convince his adversary that the latter is dealing with a madman who will not shun any
expedient, no matter how irrational, in order to prevail. But with the Bush of 1990 we are
far beyond such calculating histrionics. There were still traces of method in George
Bush's madness, but the central factor was now the madness itself.
The thesis of this chapter is that while it is clear that the Gulf war was a deliberate and
calculated provocation by the Anglo-American oligarchical and financier elite, the mental
instability and psychological disintegration of George Bush was an indispensable
ingredient in implementing the actions which the oligarchs and bankers desired. Without
a George Bush who was increasingly non compos mentis, the imperialist grand design for
the destruction of the leading Arab state and the intimidation of the third world might
have remained on the shelf. Especially since the Bay of Pigs and the Vietnam debacle,
American presidents have seen excellent reasons to mistrust their advisers when the latter
came bearing plans for military adventures overseas. The destruction of the once
powerful Lyndon B. Johnson, in particular, has stood as an eloquent warning to his
successors that a president who wants to have a political future must be very reticent
before he attempts to write a new page in the martial exploits of imperialism.
Eisenhower's repudiation of the Anglo-French Suez invasion of 1956 can serve to remind
us that even a relatively weak US president may find reasons not to leap into the
vanguard of the latest hare-brained scheme to come out of the London clubs. The
difficulty of orchestrating a "splendid little war" is all the more evident when the various
bureaucratic, military, and financier factions of the US establishment are not at all
convinced that the project is a winner or even worthwhile, as the pro-sanctions, wait and
see stance of many Democratic members of the House and Senate indicates. The
subjectivity of George Bush is therefore a vital link in the chain of any explanation of
why the war happened, and that subjectivity centers an increasingly desperate,
aggravated, infantile id, tormented by the fires of a raging thyroid storm.