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April 10,
2003
"America
Will Lose the War."
Nately's Old
Man
By JOSEPH HELLER
[From Chapter 23, Catch-22.
Remember the first Chapter of Heller's masterpiece is titled,
"The Texan."]
"America ," he said, "will
lose the war. And Italy will win it." "America is the
strongest and most prosperous nation on earth," Nately informed
him with lofty fervor and dignity. "And the American fighting
man is second to none".
"Exactly", agreed the old man
pleasantly, with a hint of taunting amusement. Italy, on the
other hand, is one of the least prosperous nations on earth.
And the Italian fighting man is probably second to all. And that's
exactly why my country is doing so well in this war while yours
is doing so poorly.
Nately guffawed with surprise, then blushed
apologetically for his impoliteness. "I'm sorry I laughed
at you," he said sincerely, and he continued in a tone of
respectful condescension. "But Italy was occupied by the
Germans  and is now being occupied
by us. You don't call that doing very well, do you?"
"But of course I do," exclaimed
the old man cheerfully. "The Germans are being driven out,
and we are still here. In a few years you will be gone, too,
and we will still be here. You see, Italy is really a very poor
and weak country, and that's what makes us so strong. Italian
soldiers are not dying anymore. But American and German officers
are. I call that doing extremely well. Yes, I am certain that
Italy will survive this war and still be in existence long after
your own country has been destroyed."
Nately could scarcely believe his ears.
He had never heard such shocking blasphemies before, and he wondered
with instinctive logic why the why G-men did not appear to lock
the traitorous old man up. "America is not going to be destroyed!"
he shouted passionately.
"Never?" prodded the old man
softly.
"Well..." Nately faltered.
The old man laughed indulgently, holding
in check a deeper, more explosive delight. His goading remained
gentle. "Rome was destroyed, Greece was destroyed, Persia
was destroyed, Spain was destroyed. All great countries are destroyed.
Why not yours? How much longer do you really think your own country
will last? Forever? Keep in mind that the earth itself is destined
to be destroyed by the sun in twenty-five million years or so.
Nately squirmed uncomfortably. "Well,
forever is a long time, I guess."
"A million years?" persisted
the old man with keen, sadistic zest. "A half million? The
frog is almost five hundred million years old. Could you really
say with much certainty that America, with all its strength and
prosperity, with it's fighting man that is second to none, and
with its standard of living that is the highest in the world,
will last as long as the... frog?"
Nately wanted to smash his leering face.
He looked about imploringly for help in defending his county's
future against the obnoxious calumnies of this sly and sinful
assailant. He was disappointed. Yossarian and Dunbar were busy
in a far corner pawing orgiastically at at four or five frolicsome
girls and six bottles of red wine, and Hungry Joe had long since
tramped away down one of the mystic hallways, propelling before
him like a ravening despot as many of the broadest-hipped young
prostitutes as he could contain in his frail windmilling arms
and cram onto one double bed [...]
"How old are you?" Nately asked,
growing intrigued and charmed with the old man in spite of himself.
"A hundred and seven." The
old man chuckled heartily at Nately's look of chagrin. "I
see you don't believe that either."
"I don't believe anything you tell
me," Nately replied with a bashful, mitigating smile. "The
only thing I do believe is that America is going to win this
war."
"You put so much stock in winning
wars," the grubby iniquitous old man scoffed. "The
real trick lies in losing wars, in knowing which wars can be
lost. Italy has been losing wars for centuries, and just see
how splendidly we've done nonetheless. France wins wars and is
in a continual state of crises. Germany loses and prospers. Look
at our own recent history. Italy won a war in Ethiopia and promptly
stumbled into serious trouble. Victory gave us such insane delusions
of grandeur that we helped start a world war we hadn't a chance
of wining. But now that we are losing again, everything has taken
a turn for the better, and we certainly will come up on top again
if we succeed in being defeated."
Nately gaped at him in undisguised befuddlement.
"Now I really don't understand what you're saying. You talk
like a madman."
"But I live like a sane one. I was
a fascist when Mussolini was on top, and I an an anti-fascist
now that he has been deposed. I was fanatically pro-German when
the Germans were here to protect us against the Americans, and
now that the Americans are here to protect us against the Germans
I am fanatically pro-American. I can assure you, my outraged
young friend" - the old man's knowing, disdainful eyes shown
even more effervescently as Nately's stuttering dismay increased
- "that you and your country will have no more loyal partisan
in Italy than me - but only as long as you remain in Italy."
"But," Nately cried out in
disbelief, "you're a turncoat! A time-server! A shameful,
unscrupulous opportunist!"
"I am a hundred and seven years
old," the old man reminded him suavely.
"Don't you have any principles?"
"Of course not."
"No morality?"
"Oh, I am a very moral man,"
the villainous old man assured him with satiric seriousness,
stroking the bare him of a buxom black-haired girl with pretty
dimples who had stretched herself seductively on the other arm
of his chair. He grinned at Nately sarcastically as he sat between
both naked girls in smug and threadbare splendor, with a sovereign
hand on each.
"I can't believe it," Nately
remarked grudgingly, trying stubbornly not to watch him in relation
to the girls. "I simply can't believe it.
"But it's all perfectly true. When
the Germans marched into the city, I danced in the streets like
a youthful ballerina and shouted 'Heil Hitler' until my lungs
were hoarse. I even waved a small Nazi flag that I had snatched
away from a beautiful little girl while her mother was looking
the other way. When the Germans left the city, I rushed out to
welcome the Americans with a bottle of excellent brandy and a
basket of flowers. The brandy was for myself, of course, and
the flowers were to sprinkle upon our liberators. There was a
very stiff and stuffy old major riding in the first car, and
I hit him squarely in the eye with a red rose. A marvelous shot!
You should have seen him wince."
Copyright. The Estate of Joseph Heller.
Today's
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Doug
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War
Susan
Davis
The New York Times and the Peace Movement
David Vest
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John
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Gary Bauer and AIPAC: an Unholy Alliance
with the Christian Right
Ray
Hanania
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David Lindorff
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the War Is About Oil
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