陳七時鳥語甚特異 此時yy或已達台中?
翁辰修邀廈門稿 婉謝
(昨天想起五月周五還要上日文 昆山大學的提議太輕率)RE: 我兄是戴明傳人.想請
潘兄
我從陳老師處知道你的mail address
是這樣 我們今年要為寬仁師慶祝八十大壽
現在正集稿中 你或可寫一短篇 "說起陳寬仁 想起 " 即 寫些印象最深的交往
六月底前交稿給我
PETER 交一稿
傍晚弄一本胡適勵志書
米晚餐
2012.4.21 晚上碰到林義正老師 在餐廳與他台灣的主體性的淪喪 台電的五鬼搬運法
才知道他服務台大三十七年之後已於今年二月退休 因為必須在三個月之內將宿舍交懷大學
最近將一半的書捐給台大圖書館和文化大學哲學系
我建議他的退休演講拷貝給大家留念 (台大某老師的最後一課 有賣 每片二百元the taiwan university press)
我慫恿他到我家隔壁的舊香居 Rare Books開開眼界 (這回注意李建復翻譯的Flaubert 情感教育
1948年版(三聯前身) 定價4000元
他也到我處參觀 我希望他除了寫最後的數本書 還應該寫回憶錄和年譜 (他的一些老師活到九八歲 或一百零六歲 所以退休之後 真的來日方長 等於是還有殷海光老師的一輩子......)
---
接到林義正老師的書訊
我與他有數面之緣
他請我到辦公室喝過幾次茶
2010/11與他談他退休和新書的索引
2010/3 :張深切
蘭與蕉──我家的餐桌之5
http://blog.roodo.com/michaelcarolina/archives/ 19350246.html
卡洛玲子
這告訴我二周前三弟從親戚處拿來的那串也該熟了
唐香燕預告倫敦十日談第十一天，尾聲。接著是一篇台北日子，
你打"Friday Essay"一定還會找到些有趣的東西......講陳忠信與貓的台北日子。......當然會準時收看。
其實應該紀錄一下玉燕的行程 他昨天貼出我們第四棟("溫州國宅")的春季茶會通知
今天來去斗六......真的很有活動力.......
她晚上回來說賺一天演講會可請客
她找出一張"1994.2.28-3.1 Berg Asia Pacific
Sales and Marketing Meeting (新加坡)"的團體照給我(我可能也很生氣
所以似乎沒進去照相) 這場十八年前的會議 最令人傷感 因為地主國的高層多辭職
廠長還在會議上 罵起新公司的董事長......(最後的一次放炮).....
上回說的(劉廣定)老師的文章原來他也在聯合報發表 所以就將別人的收入當自己的
我上回跟錦坤說日人圓仁的漢文日記"入唐求法巡禮行記"在中國
首先是周作人撰一文介紹
後來 在向達和陳寅恪的文章都有引用
我當時沒讀胡適1932.5.19完成的"中國中古思想史的提要"
第十二講 "禪學的最後期" 內有"......在長安親見毀法事
可看他的"入唐求法巡禮行記"卷三及卷四"
書評
艾森豪使領導看起來很容易“艾森豪在戰爭期與和平期”，吉恩·愛德華·史密斯原作由約翰·劉易斯加迪斯作書評
出版日期：2012年4月20日，
He Made It Look Easy
‘Eisenhower in War and Peace,’ by Jean Edward Smith
By JOHN LEWIS GADDIS
Published: April 20, 2012
Dwight D. Eisenhower’s memoirs came out while I was in graduate school
in the 1960s, and one of my professors commented — not entirely
facetiously — that he’d been surprised to see print on the pages. My
fellow students and I were being taught that despite Eisenhower’s
victories in World War II,
the presidency had been beyond his capabilities. Like Ulysses S. Grant,
the last general to make it to the White House, Ike won elections
easily, but did not rise to the responsibilities these thrust upon him.
Photo from Keystone/Getty Images
President Eisenhower waves to crowds after his inauguration, 1953.
EISENHOWER IN WAR AND PEACE
By Jean Edward Smith
Illustrated. 950 pp. Random House. $40.
Related
Times Topic: Dwight David Eisenhower
Jean Edward Smith challenged that argument about Grant in a
well-received biography published a decade ago: Grant had been a better
president than contemporaries or previous biographers realized, Smith
maintained. In “Eisenhower in War and Peace,” Smith, who is now a senior
scholar at Columbia after many years at the University of Toronto and
Marshall University, makes a more startling claim. Apart from Franklin
D. Roosevelt (whose biography Smith has also written), Ike was “the most
successful president of the 20th century.”
Historians long ago abandoned the view that Eisenhower’s was a failed
presidency. He did, after all, end the Korean War without getting into
any others. He stabilized, and did not escalate, the Soviet-American
rivalry. He strengthened European alliances while withdrawing support
from European colonialism. He rescued the Republican Party from
isolationism and McCarthyism. He maintained prosperity, balanced the
budget, promoted technological innovation, facilitated (if reluctantly)
the civil rights movement and warned, in the most memorable farewell
address since Washington’s, of a “military-industrial complex” that
could endanger the nation’s liberties. Not until Reagan would another
president leave office with so strong a sense of having accomplished
what he set out to do.
But does Eisenhower merit a place in the pantheon just behind Franklin
Roosevelt? Smith’s case would be stronger if he had specified standards
for presidential success. What allowances should one make for unexpected
incumbencies, like those of the first Roosevelt, Coolidge, Truman,
Johnson and Ford? Or for holding office in wartime? Or for “black swan”
events — economic crashes, natural disasters, protest movements,
self-inflicted scandals, terrorist attacks? What’s the proper balance
between planning and improvisation, between being a hedgehog, in Isaiah
Berlin’s famous distinction, and being a fox?
Smith doesn’t say. But he does carefully trace Eisenhower’s preparation
for the presidency, and that’s what this biography is really about.
(Only a quarter of the book is devoted to the White House years and
beyond.) From it, Eisenhower’s own views on success in leadership emerge
reasonably clearly. To reduce them to the length of a tweet — an
exercise my students recommend, and which Ike might well have approved —
they amount to achieving one’s ends without corrupting them.
Ends, Eisenhower knew, are potentially infinite. Means can never be.
Therefore the task of leaders — whether in the presidency or anywhere
else — is to reconcile that contradiction: to deploy means in such a way
as to avoid doing too little, which risks defeat, but also too much,
which risks exhaustion. Failure can come either way.
Exhaustion was the problem in World War I, in which the costs on all
sides allowed no decisive outcome. As a young (and disappointed) Army
captain, Eisenhower was kept stateside during the hostilities, training
troops in the use of the recently invented tank. After peace returned,
he and his fellow officers assumed there would be another war, but they
had to plan for it under conditions wholly different from the profligacy
with which the last one had been fought. With cuts in military spending
that left ranks reduced, Eisenhower’s generation took limited means as
their default position.
Doing as much as possible with as little as possible required setting
priorities, so Eisenhower made himself an expert, during the 1920s and
1930s, on the theory and practice of limited means. The theory came from
the 19th-century Prussian strategist Carl von Clausewitz, whose
difficult classic, “On War,” Eisenhower mastered, as almost no one else
in the Army at the time did. The practice came from serving on staffs:
of Fox Conner in Panama, who introduced him to Clausewitz; of John J.
Pershing in Paris, who had him map World War I battle sites; of Douglas
MacArthur in Washington and the Philippines, from whom Eisenhower
learned the pitfalls of arrogance in command; and, in the final years of
peace, of the indispensable George C. Marshall, who catapulted
Eisenhower above hundreds of more senior officers to make him, after
Pearl Harbor, the Army’s chief planner.
Eisenhower’s skills were not those required to command armies on
battlefields: in this respect, he lacked the talents of his World War II
contemporaries Bradley, Patton and Montgomery. But in his ability to
weigh costs against benefits, to delegate authority, to communicate
clearly, to cooperate with allies, to maintain morale and especially to
see how all the parts of a picture related to the whole (it was not just
for fun that he later took up painting), Eisenhower’s preparation for
leadership proved invaluable. Lincoln went through many generals before
he found Grant, Smith reminds us. Roosevelt found in Eisenhower, with
Marshall’s help, the only general he needed to run the European war.
There were setbacks, to be sure: the North African and Italian
campaigns, the Battle of the Bulge after the triumph of D-Day. But
because Eisenhower showed himself to have learned from these crises,
Roosevelt and Marshall never lost confidence in him. At the same time,
Ike was perfecting the art of leading while leaving no trace — the
“hidden hand” for which he would be known while in the White House. The
best wartime example, Smith suggests, was the way he gave his subtle
support to Charles de Gaulle as the leader of the Free French, which
left Roosevelt — no fan of le grand Charles — with a fait accompli. Eisenhower was getting to be good at politics as well as war.
Politics beckoned, after his victories, as it did with Grant before him,
but the situations they inherited upon becoming president could hardly
have been more different. Facing no credible external enemy, the United
States in 1869 was as inward looking as it ever had been or would be.
But by 1953, its interests were global and threats seemed to be too.
Grant, in the aftermath of the Civil War, struggled to maintain any
weapons more lethal than those required to fight American Indians.
Eisenhower controlled weaponry that, if used without restraint, could
have ended life on the planet.
Success in his mind, then, required not just avoiding the corruption of
ends by means, but also their annihilation. How could the United States
wage a war that might last for decades without turning itself into an
authoritarian state, without exhausting itself in limited conflicts on
terrain chosen by adversaries, without risking a new world war that
could destroy all its participants? And how, throughout all of this,
could the country retain a culture in which its traditional values —
even the bland and boring ones — could flourish?
Eisenhower’s greatest accomplishment may well have been to make his
presidency look bland and boring: in this sense, he was very different
from the flamboyant Roosevelt, and that’s why historians at first
underestimated him. Jean Edward Smith is among the many who no longer
do. The greatest virtue of his biography is to show how well
Eisenhower’s military training prepared him for this task: like Grant,
he made what he did seem easy. It never was, though, and Smith stresses
the toll it took on Eisenhower’s health, on his marriage and ultimately
in the loneliness he could never escape. Perhaps Ike earned his place in
the pantheon after all.
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