Narrated by Meryl Streep, Corridors of Power: Should America be the world police? announced the extent of its ambitions immediately. Before the opening credits, we had already heard about Hillary Clinton, Colin Powell, Madeleine Albright and the late Henry Kissinger. We had also already seen the lines being drawn as to how the daring subtitle might be answered.
It is a truly confusing program in which any firm moral position does not last long
As Clinton put it, a question arose in 1945 whose implications were to dominate U.S. foreign policy after the war: “Why didn’t we do more to prevent the transportation of the Jews?” The immediate response was the heartfelt but possibly superficial declaration: “Never again.” But what would that mean in practice? Was it America’s duty, then, to make sure the countries of the world behaved? Or is it dangerously arrogant to describe itself—as several presidents have done—as “the one indispensable nation” responsible for policing all the others? And what would happen, anyway, if the rhetoric of one position or another collided with troublesome real-world events?
Over the next hour, and seven remaining parts, these questions were discussed thoroughly and intelligently. And in a really confusing way, because any firm moral position that was attempted to be taken did not last long. The show clearly wanted to take a liberal view – the problem was that, as the complexity increased, it was not entirely clear what the liberal view was.
At first, it was easy enough to denounce America. The first episode began in 1970s Iran, with the reminder that the Shah had come to power in a CIA-backed coup and that his regime depended on a CIA-trained secret police. (The accompanying footage showed him toasting with the saintly Jimmy Carter.) But then the Islamic Revolution of 1979 suddenly transformed America’s closest ally in the Middle East into its greatest enemy.
In the search for a new ally, the Americans chose Saddam Hussein, whom they saw – perhaps rightly – as the only hope to stop Iran’s out-of-control power. On the other hand, it was not long before they learned of his use of gassing against the Iraqi Kurds.
Perhaps the most disturbing moment in a show full of them was a recording of “Chemical Ali” explaining his plans for genocide. “For every insect, there is an insecticide,” he said. “I’m going to kill them all with chemical weapons. Who’s going to say anything?” Not far away, mind you, was a 1988 White House memo that said, “If we leave aside human rights and the use of chemical weapons, our political and economic interests in many ways parallel those of Iraq.”
Until Saddam invaded Kuwait – and George Bush Sr. decided he was a “revised Hitler.” Moreover, as Bush’s Secretary of State James Baker said without shame, Saddam’s mistreatment of the Kuwaitis was “something America could never tolerate.” And as for those do-gooders who complained that it was all about oil and money, don’t they realize that “money is worth fighting for”? Yet for all this cynicism, the show’s only regret about the American intervention seemed to be that Saddam was not overthrown.
This week’s episode ended with Bush Sr.’s post-Cold War proclamation of a “new world order” in which no country could attack another without American retaliation. Paul Wolfowitz then set the stage for the next week’s show by explaining that 12 months later Serbia invaded Bosnia and “we did nothing,” making “the whole speech look like a joke.” Wolfowitz’s position seemed to be met with widespread approval on the show — but I suspect enthusiasm for U.S. intervention will be less pronounced when it comes to the 2003 Iraq War, of which Wolfowitz was an architect. As I said, confusing.
For all younger viewers: Cheeky! Secrets of the British sex comedy will be one of the strangest documentaries you have ever seen: set in a Britain where pornography was illegal and the greatest thrills came from films like I don’t feel like myself tonight And Under the Doctor which combined naked female breasts (here lavishly illustrated) with policemen falling into the water and lots of double entendres like “up” and “it”. Even stranger still, these films attracted audiences and saved British cinema in the 1970s.
The second and final episode picked up the story midway through the decade, when the films were becoming so naughty that they occasionally featured a glimpse of pubic hair. At the time, Mary Millington was the biggest star – which posed something of a problem for the show. Overall, the tone was celebratory, with former cast members looking back with a mixture of defiance and amusement (if rarely pride). However, Millington committed suicide in 1979, which rather spoiled the mood. The programme actually treated her death with a certain sensitivity – but there was also an uncomfortable sense of obligation to do so before it could return to the naughty fun with obvious relief.
