Following the emergence of the controversial interview with Rolling Stone magazine in which McChrystal showed little diplomacy in describing other Administration officials involved in Afghan policy, the President has been left little wiggle room. He cannot possibly allow the impression of dissension to continue without appearing to be weak or indecisive, not at a time when so much negative news about Afghanistan is appearing on the front pages of the nation’s major newspapers almost every day and McChrystal’s most vocal ally is President Hamid Karzai.

It reminds me of the last major confrontation between a U.S. president and one of his top generals in the midst of the Korean War. It was Truman versus MacArthur. Harry Truman and Douglas MacArthur in which the four-star general thought he was bigger than the nation’s elected leader. Granted McChrystal has not gone that far. He has not even criticized President Obama. But where discretion was called for, the commander of all forces in Afghanistan did not remember his history.

In October 1950, President Truman had a war on his hands in Korea that was growing in unpopularity when he ordered MacArthur to meet him on Wake Island in the middle of the Pacific. Truman wanted to remind his general who was in charge. The message did not take. Six months later, after assuring the President that the Chinese Communists would not enter the Korean War and then they did, MacArthur publicly advocated the use of nuclear weapons against the Chinese and threatened to bomb the mainland. Truman had enough. He fired the general. It was shocking news across the nation. The man from Missouri was pitted against a genuine military hero of the Pacific War who had accepted the surrender of Japan on the deck of the U.S.S. Missouri.

It ignited a nationwide storm of criticism, mostly from Republicans. I was on my way to Korea as a GI draftee when MacArthur was greeted by a tickertape parade in Manhattan. House Speaker Joe Martin then invited MacArthur to address the U.S. Congress that was televised nationally. In his closing remarks that have remained in the history books, the general declared: “Old soldiers never die, they just fade away.”

McChrystal’s plight may be something less serious, except to say the controversy over Afghanistan is mounting at a time when McCrystal has chosen to draw swords with just about every prominent member of the Administration. The General does not seem to have as many allies and the President, faced with a multitude of other problems, is running out of time. The principle of civilian authority is at stake.

They used to call him the news doctor, but when Magid first showed up Los Angeles and other major television markets across the country in the late 1960s, serious news directors used to cringe and say, here comes Doctor Death. But their bosses, the station managers, were different. They lacked Bob Wood’s vision. Their ears perked up when Magid showed up. He was like a visiting potentate. He brought with him, they thought, a cure for sagging ratings of their morning and evening news programs. Forget that it was a lack of imagination. Simple, said the television consultant from Iowa: forget all the serious stuff and substitute it with stories about crime, sex, gossip, scandal and acrobatic whales. Throw in weather, traffic and sports. Then put gabby, sometimes perky, anchormen and women in front of the cameras to read the teleprompters on the false premise that they actually were responsible for reporting the news. That was the ticket. Who cared about the public or journalistic excellence. The stations made money and so did Magid.

The current president of his media strategy group said of Frank, he was “always challenging fundamental assumptions; anticipating the evolution of the media landscape.” Magid’s emphasis was form over content and how best to attract and hold an audience, said one observer. Sure, like Fidel Castro.

In recent years, Magid, himself no longer lurked in the hallways of television stations, but his spirit lingered on. With the exception of a few television organizations like the Argus Group or the Hearst News Corporation, the overall content of local television newscasts generally became an embarrassment. So what if our cities’ cultural programs were in budgetary freefall? So what if our do-nothing city governments and state legislatures escaped public scrutiny? And what if the health care moguls got away for years, ripping off millions of unfortunate, sick Californians in need of adequate insurance? To this day, few people know whom to blame for the economic melt-down. You could certainly point the fickle finger at Magid’s inspiration — local television news — for much of the ignorance, the indifference and the consequences.

Gail Collins of the New York Times hit the nail on the head last week when she wrote that “when it comes to finances, California is the new Mississippi — the place that all the other states are glad to have around because it means they can’t come up worse than 49th.”

The bottom line is evident. You gets what you deserve. Magid or no Magid.

C’mon America. Can we not get real? Can “we,” I mean Republicans as well as Democrats, conservatives as well as liberals, seriously entertain the notion of Sarah Palin as the GOP’s presidential nominee or, heaven forbid, even the occupant of the White House? Is there truly a segment of society so ideologically warped to believe it? Hopefully, we are passed that.
But several weeks ago, returning to the Mother Country after an absence of many years, it was re-assuring to be back in Britain, confronted by a fresh dose of reality. The question in every London newspaper the past several weeks was whether President Obama will or should intensify the war in Afghanistan by providing 40 thousand more American troops on the ground, as their general in charge has insisted was a necessity.

It reminded me of the extent to which wars have plagued Britain throughout history. In the 19th Century, they failed to conquer Afghanistan. In the first ten days of this November in London, the atmosphere was bathed in red as countless men and women wore paper poppies on their lapels or blouses to mark Armistice Day and remember those who served in World War I.. Newspapers and television newscasts conveyed scenes of countless cemeteries or of scenes depicting the great retreat from Dunkirk in 1940. Loved ones or surviving veterans paid their last respects to those who gave their lives in both World Wars I and II as well as Korea. On the first day of the visit with my wife, we were confronted by a half page spread in The Guardian, depicting veterans of Britain’s Second Battalion of The Rifles. The three most prominent soldiers in the color photograph, dressed in their combat uniforms and wearing black berets, sitting in wheelchairs, were amputees. Two of them had lost both legs and the third soldier, one limb. Behind them was a crowd, smiling and obviously proud to welcome home the warriors. It was a chilling reminder of the fact that not only American fighting men were enduring the cost of serving in Afghanistan.

At the New London Theater, we were among other theatergoers who sat transfixed by a unique play entitled “War Horse.” Its staging recaptured memories of the First World War through the imaginative use of puppets. The storyline was based on a children’s novel, but it was the staging that provided such a remarkable interpretation. Unquestionably. it will be a major attraction when it reaches Broadway next year. “War Horse” has played to two sold-out runs at the National Theater before moving to the New London. Its focus was on the story of a young boy who went to Europe in search of his horse that had been confiscated by the British Army for the war on the continent in Europe. Only readers of Barbara Tuchman’s historic rendition of the so-called Great War, The Guns of August, can truly appreciate the scope of the conflict that was re-enacted on the stage. It was fought with artillery, tanks and poison gas that claimed the lives of millions of soldiers and, in effect, tore the hearts out of three generations of men from Britain, France and Germany.

At the Frontline Club one evening, a journalists’ gathering place in central London, a large audience met to discuss Afghanistan.. It lasted for some two hours. A panel included a BBC foreign correspondent, a veteran Afghan television producer with a long list of credits in British television, a professor at London University and an Oxford-educated woman who had recently completed two years in Afghanistan for Human Rights Watch. At best, their overall perception was one of skepticism about the future.

Their impressions, reinforced by London newspaper after London newspaper, raised the question of whether the war against the Taliban in Afghanistan was winnable or should even be pursued. Clearly, that debate has been just as intense across the Atlantic as it has been in America. But it also was clear that only when President Obama renders a final decision on whether to increase the U.S. troop level on the battlefield will the story assume a new dimension and how Afghanistan is perceived or conveniently forgotten.

On March 7, 1965, Jack and I met for the first time, on the Edmund Pettus Bridge on the outskirts of Selma, Alabama, he reporting for the Times and I for CBS News.

State troopers on horseback, camouflaged with gas masks and armed with clubs and tear gas were determined to halt civil rights marchers from walking from Selma to the state capitol in Montgomery some 50 miles away. Nelson and I were shoulder to shoulder, watching the cops beat down, almost kill, civil rights workers like John Lewis, who later would become and still is one of the most distinguished members of the U.S. Congress. After the dramatic march was attempted again a few weeks later, this time with the protection of National Guardsmen activated by President Johnson, we reached Montgomery safely. Shortly thereafter I learned of the Ku Klux Klan’s murder of a volunteer worker from Detroit named Viola Liuzzo. I doubled back down the highway to find her bullet-ridden car. Her body had been removed before a number of reporters, including Nelson and I could catch up to the story. At the Selma City Hall, we waited for a statement by the FBI and the Selma sheriff, a redneck named Jimmy Clark. We found his explanation of Liuzzo’s slaying to be outrageous when he declared, “the niggahs did it.” Clark’s reaction was found to be even more offensive to reporters from the south, like Nelson.

We could not imagine then that what happened in Selma and on a lonely highway leading to it would set the stage for passage of the historic Voting Rights Act of 1965.

Soon after, Otis Chandler sensed the quality of Jack Nelson’s reporting and had him transferred to Washington where he eventually was named to run the revitalized bureau of the Times. Its numbers were doubled along with its budget, and before long, quality journalists flocked to the Times’ doorstep. Nelson’s own investigative skills, his tenacity and determination to dig up the facts led to his discovery of major aspects of what would become known as the Watergate scandal.

Nelson and I did not see each other for several years when I returned to Southeast Asia, covering the Vietnam war and other stories in the region. In December 1968, I transferred back to the United States to cover the anti-war movement and the Conspiracy Trial in Chicago. It also was a time when the Nixon Administration pursued the press with a vengeance. It attacked journalists for their critical coverage of events that eventually would lead to the Watergate scandal, significantly reported by Nelson. Moreover, the Justice Department under Attorney General John Mitchell hinted that it would pursue steps which hitherto were unprecedented. It would require reporters to divulge their confidential sources, provide notes from their notebooks and outtakes of the film recorded by network cameramen and even testify in court .

As one of the CBS News correspondents based in Chicago, I found the Nixon Administration’s actions to be outrageous and unconstitutional. I proposed to Anthony Lukas, the New York Times correspondent, also based in Chicago, that we organize reporters across the country to seek legal counsel and oppose any attempt to infringe on our First Amendment rights. We gathered 30 reporters, including Jack Nelson, to join us in the struggle. On numerous occasions, supported by pro bono lawyers, Jack and I met privately with judges across the country to defend individual reporters threatened with legal action by overzealous prosecutors and both federal, state and local officials.

With great respect and affection I always will remember Nelson was one of our strongest advocates in forming The Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press based in Washington that will be in its 50th year next March. He was one of the great figures in the history of journalism. Most of all, I always will remember him as a friend.

On Tuesday evening, the outstanding PBS documentary, Frontline, examined what it described as “Obama’s War.” So it is, given the President’s earlier support of the conflict.. The high-level meetings that are underway with his senior advisors at the White House may produce a solution. But, it won’t please everyone.

Even the best reportage, first on Iraq and now Afghanistan by Frontline, is seen through a measured lens. Hardly a Taliban image or voice was seen or heard. The American point of view supporting the war got plenty of air time. The ever-confident Richard Holbrooke, President Obama’s special envoy in Afghanistan and Pakistan, headed the list of those who generally reflected the U.S. perspective.

General Stanley McChrystal, whose thankless job is to win the war, articulated the problems inherent in the counter-insurgency scheme of things. But he did not say on camera what he has been saying in private for the past two weeks; that at least 40,000 more troops are needed if the Taliban are to be defeated. The echoes of General William Westmoreland’s plea more than 40 years ago for an additional 206,000 troops in Vietnam came back to haunt me. Victory eluded him nonetheless which could be McChrystal’s fate too if President Obama endorses his request.

McChrystal’s recommendation reminded me of the warning expressed by three prominent figures associated with the Vietnam conflict. General Creighton Abrams, the late Army Chief of Staff; Caspar Weinberger, the former Defense Secretary and General Colin Powell, the onetime chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, all declared that the United States should never again involve itself in a major war without the overwhelming support of the American people. So far, an estimated 51% of the nation is opposed to the war, but that is hardly overwhelming.

Just like the Marines at the battle of Hue learned more than 40 years ago, guns alone could not defeat the enemy. The Marines unleashed enormous fire and air power in an effort to dislodge the North Vietnamese who were dug in from inside the walls of The Citadel in the center of the old Vietnamese capital. It was only after the Communists decided to withdraw that the fighting ended.

In Afghanistan, the gallant young men of Echo Company of the 24th Marines were shown unloading their firepower on the Taliban. But rarely, if ever, were the insurgents seen firing back from the ill-defined underbrush. Nonetheless, they were able to inflict troubling casualties on the Marines.

This war, unlike earlier coverage, was sanitized. No air or artillery strikes or gruesome casualties were shown, depicting the reality of the conflict. The gulf of understanding that existed between the Marines and local villagers was apparent. The young Marines, accompanied by interpreters whose identity was purposely obscured, were attempting to seek information from the picturesque Afghans. But it was clear from the hostile tone of their questions that the Marines would be frustrated. The frightening image of heavily-armed interrogators did not help them. They were not going to get much, if any information or cooperation from the villagers. The peasants were predictably cautious. The communications gap was too wide. The Marines simply could not explain themselves effectively, either in the local language, nor did they have a cultural understanding of how to approach villagers. As a result, the Marines seemed downright threatening, arrogant and impatient. It did not help their cause when it became clear that the interpreter could not speak or understand the local dialect.

Not meaning to overstate past history too much, the villagers in Vietnam were just as cautious. They too were confronted by Marines who could not speak Vietnamese. Fearing the return of the Vietcong after the Americans’ departure, the villagers were predictably uncooperative.. It is not my intention to criticize the Marines whom I covered and admired in combat, both in Korea and Vietnam.But I also lectured to senior grade officers in the Marine Corps over several years and I was stunned, watching the Frontline documentary, to see their troops’ lack of language training in Afghanistan.

The war also dominated last Sunday morning’s talk shows. Predictably, the networks, and for that matter, most American journalists, always turn to the same kind of insiders who are called upon during a time of crisis.The names change from war to war, but inevitably a cadre of ex-generals were invited to analyze the scope of the war. Their support of McChrystal was predictable, who by the way did not graduate from West Point until after the Vietnam conflict had ended. He did not shoulder either the burden or the frustrations of combat units in America’s last major war.

To their credit, producer Martin Smith and his colleagues who worked on “Obama’s War” depicted the crux of the problem which probably is Pakistan. The Taliban are a major problem in Afghanistan to be sure, but the more profound challenge may lie just over the border in Pakistan. How President Obama seemingly can act logically that would justify our continuing commitment to two countries that are plagued by corruption, religious fanaticism, underdevelopment and poverty is an unresolved dilemma. We have talked about nation-building in Afghanistan since the first time I visited there in 1957. Pakistan has been an adopted legacy of ours since the days of the Cold War. I remember from my visits there from the 1950s-80s when the United States poured billions of dollars into the Pakistan treasury in hopes of modernizing the country.

Washington supported every failed government that emerged during the post-partition years, separating Pakistan from India. We established the largest CIA base throughout Asia in Pakistan and we delivered to it endless amount of military assistance to an army whose officers three decades later are alien to us.. All we cared about during the Cold War was maintaining an edge over Russia. But since the collapse of the U.S.S.R., stability has not emerged in Pakistan. Its failure to initiate land reform throughout the country has hardened the divisions between urban and rural aspects of its society. Its government seems unable to deal with the Taliban in its northwest provinces and the violence in the cities suggest the worst has yet to come.

Only when the day of reckoning arrives and the President discloses his latest evaluation of the war, will we know if his recipe is to continue a war without end or one from which we can walk away with some dignity in tact. Americans with any memory should remember that this entire mess began in Iraq and intensified in Afghanistan only after the nation and the world were misled by an atrocious lie. Or have we forgotten the alleged weapons of mass destruction that lured us into this latest quagmire?

It was absent the voice and presence of a prominent network anchorman or voice-over narrations by another reporter. It had none of the silly questions that permeate so much of contemporary television reporting. Moreover, it was not the kind of hit and miss reportage that has been so common on television during the economic downturn these past few years. Instead, it made room for the voices and faces of real people, the workers of the GM truck factory in Moraine, Ohio, who had given the best part of their lives to building and assembling American vehicles that were rolling off the production line for the last time. The death knell was to be sounded two days before Christmas 2008.

Steve Bognar and Julia Reichert headed the team of producers, directors, editors, cameramen and women who put their souls into making this hour-long film. It was not anger as much as disappointment and quiet bewilderment that they captured about the future lives of the men and women, whose own parents had assembled GM trucks before them. For these white and African American workers, this was not the kind of retirement they expected. Nonetheless, their pride in producing an American vehicle on its last day, was a compelling moment. They were proud of their membership in the United Auto Workers Union whose negotiations with GM ensured them decent salaries, benefits and pensions. Or so they thought.

“The Last Truck” was nothing less than a portrait of the nation”s work force under siege. If tears came to the eyes of some of the GM workers, it would have been difficult for people watching at home not to have shed a few tears as well, hearing and watching blue collar Americans describe the last painful weeks and hours of jobs they thought would never end. What was not remarkable to me, but may have been to most people sitting at home, was the sensitivity and clarity of the workers, none of whom had more than a high school education.

It was not surprising to me because over the years as a reporter I have interviewed countless working class Americans on automobile assembly lines or in the farm belt of the country. They have never failed to impress me with their native intelligence, but in saying farewell to each other, they displayed an uncommon bonding that crossed racial lines and showed a remarkable love for each other. That may not have been anticipated by journalists who grew up in urban America and approach stories like this with some pre-conceived notions about how working class people could or would express themselves in the worst as well as the best of times.