A Happy Warrior, “sweet and merry… ”
Writing by treason on Thursday, 28 of February , 2008 at 2:27 pm
Charlie Rose: Do you wish you were twenty?
WFB: No. Absolutely not… If I had a pill which would reduce my age by 25 years I wouldn’t take it.
Charlie Rose: Why not?
WFB: Because I’m tired of life.
Charlie Rose: Are you really?
WFB: Yeah. I really am. I’m utterly prepared to… uh, stop… living on.
February 27, 2008 1:00 PM
William F. Buckley, Jr., R.I.P.
By the Editors
Our revered founder, William F. Buckley Jr., died in his study this morning.
If ever an institution were the lengthened shadow of one man, this publication is his. So we hope it will not be thought immodest for us to say that Buckley has had more of an impact on the political life of this country — and a better one — than some of our presidents. He created modern conservatism as an intellectual and then a political movement. He kept it from drifting into the fever swamps. And he gave it a wit, style, and intelligence that earned the respect and friendship even of his adversaries. (To know Buckley was to be reminded that certain people have a talent for friendship.)
He inspired and incited three generations of conservatives, and counting. He retained his intellectual and literary vitality to the end; even in his final years he was capable of the arresting formulation, the unpredictable insight. He presided over NR even in his “retirement,” which was more active than most people’s careers. It has been said that great men are rarely good men. Even more rarely are they sweet and merry, as Buckley was.
When Buckley started National Review — in 1955, at the age of 29 — it was not at all obvious that anti-Communists, traditionalists, constitutionalists, and enthusiasts for free markets would all be able to take shelter under the same tent. Nor was it obvious that all of these groups, even gathered together, would be able to prevail over what seemed at the time to be an inexorable collectivist tide. When Buckley wrote that the magazine would “stand athwart history yelling, ‘Stop!’” his point was to challenge the idea that history pointed left. Mounting that challenge was the first step toward changing history’s direction. Which would come in due course.
Before he was a conservative, Buckley was devoted to his family and his Church. He is survived by his son Christopher and brothers Reid and James and sisters Priscilla, Carol, and Patricia. Our sadness for them, and for us, at his passing is leavened by the hope that he is now with his beloved wife, Patricia, who died last year.
From reader and NR friend Matthew Mehan:
In memory of William F. Buckley, Jr.
“I call on all members” of all races,
To weep for loss and gain of graces
At the passing of one who lacks none
Of the noble traits. An Angel-Saxon,
A mighty mind with an impish hope
Of blending clan with misanthrope,
A champion of the inky lance,
Who wryly smiled and looked askance
At German Marx and Russian bears
In full advance from distant lairs.
Dame Liberty, all but bowed,
The shining city, weak and cowed,
The ways of old, they too seemed lost,
Mere artifacts in permafrost.
History with his thunderous roar
Crowed like fate and waved his sword:
“Communal state, communal press,
Communal manufactured dress!
Communal farm, communal crop—”
Till God and Man at Last cried “Stop!”
From John O’Sullivan:
“When news of Bill’s death reached me, I was in Prague. It was suitable and perhaps comforting place to hear such sad news since Prague is one of the great European cities Bill helped to liberate from communism…
When death came for him, said Churchill of George VI, ‘he came as a friend.’ I think the same is true for Bill. All his ambitions, public and private had been realized, more than triumphantly. He had lost the beloved wife of more than fifty years. His son Chris had long ago proved himself an independent spirit more than capable of sparring on his own two feet. He was as mentally sharp and as good company as he had ever been — I saw him for dinner last month in Palm Beach where he thoroughly enjoyed himself — but he was tired. He had enjoyed his vacation in this vale of tears but he wanted to go home.
We should be sorry for ourselves and his family over his death. We can be glad for him.”
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