The Time a Republican President Did the Right Thing to Stop an Epidemic by David Corn July 20, 2021 Teddy Roosevelt and his Rough Riders quarantining at Camp Wikoff in 1898. Courtesy of the Long Island Collection, East Hampton Library. The Trump books are pouring forth. The mud being thrown at the 45th president is a rich stew of inside dirt mixed with the crocodile tears of people who voluntarily worked with a racist, demagogic, insurrection-friendly president. These are the Trump helpers who didn’t have the guts to tell the American people the truth about him while they were enjoying the perks of power. So now, thanks to the former enablers, we know that the high command of the US military feared Trump might stage a coup to remain in power, and that the president once told his then-chief of staff John Kelly: “Well, Hitler did a lot of good things.” Though history deserves as much information as can be excavated on Trump’s depraved conduct in office, these scoops do not change the overall image of the only commander in chief who incited sedition.
None of this is surprising. But what continues to puzzle me about Trump is his response to the COVID-19 pandemic. It seems clear that had he reacted as a normal president—or person—he would have won re-election. Acknowledging the serious threat at hand, expressing empathy for the dead and the sick and those Americans clobbered by the economic calamity caused by the crisis, respecting and promoting the recommendations of public health experts—these basic steps would have likely led to another four years at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Why did Trump not do the obvious? The simple answer is that he’s a pathological narcissist who feared bad news of the pandemic would weaken the economy and undercut his case for reelection, which was predicated on claiming (falsely) he had saved the American economy. And asking Trump to evince empathy is like asking a fish to play the piano. Still, why was a man as cynical as Trump unable to see the value in at least pretending to give a damn and allowing public health officials to take the lead and absorb the potential criticism and blame? Did he truly believe that he could win reelection after hundreds of thousands of Americans died preventable deaths on his watch? It appears so. And he was nearly right.
Trump’s indecent and reckless response to the COVID crisis will undoubtedly shape his legacy. During a recent trip to Long Island, I was contemplating presidential history and serendipitously learned that a past Republican president had once mounted a responsible response to a potential epidemic—and that another political leader of that time had enhanced his electoral standing by taking action to thwart the crisis.
I had picked up a copy of Dan’s Papers, a free weekly that covers the news of the Hamptons and its jet-setting social scene. This edition included a short article on a piece of local history. At the end of the Spanish-American War in 1898, tens of thousands of American troops returned to the United States from Cuba. But many of the fighters, who included the Rough Riders, led by Teddy Roosevelt, had contracted malaria and yellow fever. President William McKinley, a Republican, was advised that an epidemic could be sparked by the soldiers returning to their homes and families. His administration arranged for about 29,000 troops to be isolated and quarantined at Camp Wikoff in Montauk, on the most eastern tip of Long Island.
“As the men recovered, Roosevelt kept his Rough Riders battle-ready every day by riding horseback over all the hills and dales of Montauk on maneuvers,” Dan’s Papers reports. “Photographs show them mustering for review and riding on horseback. Some include them displaying tropical birds they’d brought home from Cuba as pets,”
Things were not always so grand at Camp Wikoff. Initially conditions there were deplorable. As the New York Times noted in a 1998 feature: “Erected hastily, the camp had inadequate housing, food and medical facilities for the weakened men.” Last year, Newsday described, a grimmer picture:
By the end of August, 2,140 men were in the hospital, which had been expanded and included a separate "detention" hospital for those with the most serious, communicable illnesses—mainly typhoid and dysentery (it was not yet understood that the other two prevalent diseases, malaria and yellow fever, were spread by mosquitoes). Even then, there were reports of hundreds of additional sick men in camp who were turned away by the hospitals because little could be done for them. These so-called "camp ghosts" wandered the plains of Montauk, some reportedly on their hands and knees.
Camp Wikoff became a scandal and national disgrace. Newspapers covered the wretched situation there. Secretary of War Russell Alger was lambasted by the media. The public outcry spurred McKinley to create a special commission to investigate. Quickly, two hospitals and an electricity-generating plant were built, and conditions improved. At that point, McKinley visited the camp and met with the commanders there, as well as with Roosevelt. The editor of the East Hampton Star observed that "President McKinley's famous visit to the camp was a farce. While he shook hands with officers and was shown through the hospitals, men were dying out in the tents…without care and proper medical attention." Here is film footage of McKinley’s trip to the camp: The troops stayed at the camp for about ten weeks. About 300 men died there.
Despite the early news reports on the horrible problems at the facility, the Camp Wikoff quarantine was ultimately regarded as a success, McKinley, Roosevelt, and other US officials had adopted a prudent stance by sending the soldiers to Montauk. And here’s a lesson that would have been useful for Trump: it paid off politically. Roosevelt made it a point to remain with his men, though he didn’t have to, and used his stay at Camp Wikoff to increase his already growing celebrity. (Roosevelt did leave the camp occasionally to visit his family and head into New York City for meetings where he plotted his political future.) And all this had an immediate electoral benefit for him. Roosevelt was elected governor of New York later that year. Less than two years after that, Republicans would choose him as McKinley’s running mate. (McKinley and many GOP leaders did not want the ambitious and impulsive Roosevelt on the ticket. McKinley once observed, “Roosevelt is always in such a state of mind.” But that’s another story.) The McKinley-Roosevelt ticket triumphed, and when an anarchist assassinated McKinley in September 1901, 42-year-old Theodore Roosevelt became president. Today the command center for the Army encampment and the surrounding 1000 acres is a county park.
So there’s a moral here for modern times, one which Trump was incapable of learning. McKinley and Roosevelt abided by the science of the day and took measures to prevent an epidemic. Each of them exploited this initiative to boost their political position. Over a century later, Trump never figured out that doing the right thing for the country would be the best thing for him. If you’re enjoying This Land, please help spread the word by forwarding this to your pals, colleagues, and family, and let them know they can sign up for a free trial of This Land here. What to Read, Watch, and Listen To Nelson Algren, The Man with the Golden Arm. During the pandemic, I have sought escape by picking up a few literary classics that somehow eluded me during the past 50 years. This included Italo Calvino’s elegant and surrealistic novel If on a winter’s night a traveler. Recently, I relished this Algren novel, published in 1949 and set in a post-WWII working-class Polish neighborhood of Chicago. The Man With the Golden Arm recounts the sad tale of veteran Frankie Machine, a professional card dealer hooked on morphine, and chronicles the grimy world of petty crooks, low-end dives, and desperate gamblers. Algren captures—or creates—a lingo-loaded patois for the neighborhood’s denizens. At one point, Frankie sadly explains his addiction to a pal and complains about the rising price of morphine: “I’m getting farther away from myself all the time…But it’s a longer way to go every time. It keeps gettin’ harder ‘n harder. It’s gettin’ so hard I can’t hardly afford it. I can’t hardly afford to be myself no more, Solly, with the way Piggy-O is peggin’ the price up on me I got to economize ‘n just be Mr. Nobody, I guess.” (It’s Damon Runyon on smack.) This was powerhouse, muscular writing. No surprise, the novel won a National Book Award. Bonus points: Wikipedia tells us that future neocon Norman Podhoretz once criticized this book for glorifying the underclass over polite society. Now that’s an endorsement.
Tycho & Benjamin Gibbard, “Only Love.” If you ever wondered what would happen if Benjamin Gibbard, the frontman for the band Death Cab for Cutie, teamed up with electronic musician Tycho (and who hasn’t?), you now have the answer. The pair recently released a song they collaborated on remotely by sharing data files. It has a wonderful psychedelic Beatles quality. The tune began as an instrumental, and it took several years for them to produce the final track. Let’s hope this partnership continues. Got any recommendations of what I should be reading, watching, or listening to, send them to thisland@motherjones.com. Read Previous Issues of This Land July 17, 2021: Why the Guardian’s Trump-Russia bombshell—dud or not—doesn’t fully matter; Dumbass Comment of the Week; why Bosch works in spite of Bosch; MoxieCam™; and more.
July 15, 2021: Does President Joe Biden really stand with the Cuban people?; the time I really pissed off the Cuban regime; J. Edgar Hoover vs. MLK; one of the best movie reviews of all time; and more.
July 13, 2021: A coming referendum on Donald Trump; a suggestion for Hunter Biden; a new book on how the super-rich screw us all; and more.
July 10, 2021: Why Republicans are right to be terrified of the new House committee investigating the 1/6 attack; Dumbass Comment of the Week; Joni Mitchell’s Blue 50; and more.
July 7, 2021: How The Summer of Soul counters the GOP’s season of hate; a debate on the recent UFO report; Garry Trudeau, American Dostoyevsky; MoxieCam™; and more.
July 3, 2021: Donald Rumsfeld, Christopher Hitchens, the Iraq War, and me; the perils of taking a home DNA test; Dumbass Comment of the Week; a Springsteen story; and more.
July 1, 2021: Ivanka Trump, Donald Trump Jr., and perjury; Adam Serwer’s new book; Cézanne’s crime scene; and more.
June 29, 2021: How the new UFO report is bad news for UFO believers; my own UFO tale; HBO Max’s Hacks; an anti-racist anthem; and more.
June 26, 2021: Is Josh Hawley dumb or evil? (The answer is not both); Dumbassery that encourages mass “executions” in the United States; renowned guitarist and songwriter Richard Thompson’s new tour and new book (and his claim regarding the best strings arrangement ever on a popular song); MoxieCam™ (before and after photos!), and more.
June 24, 2021: How an alleged 1/6 conspirator who called for executing Trump’s foes hooked up with a prominent Republican Party official; new Los Lobos; and more.
June 22, 2021: Why the GOP is pushing “political apartheid”; Ted Cruz wins Dumbass Comment of the Week; recommendations for an Apple TV+ series and a book on the curious origins of the universe; the first Clash tour of the United States (and being trapped in a van driven by a punk on acid); MoxieCam™; and more.
Got suggestions, comments, complaints, tips related to any of the above, or anything else? Email me at thisland@motherjones.com.
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