The Path of the Culture Warrior

Editor's Note: The following is an excerpt from Laura Flanders' new book 'Bushwomen: Tales of a Cynical Species' (Verso Books). For more information about the book, visit www.lauraflanders.com.

First Ladies Laura Bush and Lynne Cheney (the wife of the Vice President) are the White House's Maria Shriver. Unelected, supposedly not political, they speak to the "personal" side of their men. Just as Shriver attempted to assure voters that the nasty stories about Arnold were only movie-fun or rumor, so the first wives act as the Bush team's character-witnesses. There's one for each Bush constituency and they're summed up by their attitudes to literature: Laura Bush said famously: "there's nothing political about American literature." In contrast, it's Lynne Cheney's belief that one book, (I, Pierre, by Michel Foucault) turned American culture "away from reason and reality" and against "Truth" itself. As you might have guessed, Laura speaks to moderates; Lynne delights the right.

It's hard to imagine the Terminator Presidency without the culture wars that came before it, and in those wars, Lynne Cheney was a key warrior. The social change movements of the 1960s and '70s were cultural as well as political: Gay Pride, Earth Day, Ms. Magazine, Black is Beautiful. By the start of the 1980s, white male domination was decidedly uncool (and socially unpopular.) To prepare the ground for Bush's butch-swagger and basket, a backlash had to turn all that around and from her spot as the head of the National Endowment for the Humanities from 1986-93, Cheney helped do the turning.

Conservative culture warrior is an odd career outcome for a woman who started life as a baton twirler and once penned a steamy lesbian romance, but Lynne Cheney, throughout her life, has been nothing if not flexible. She has a knack for fitting herself and her opinions to suit the opportunities of her time. Born in 1941, in Casper Wyoming, Lynne (nee Vincent) met Richard Bruce Cheney at Natrona County High School. Both of their fathers worked for the government, both of their moms were liberated Western women: Lynne's was a deputy sheriff -- she had a badge, but no gun; Dick Cheney's was an infielder on the Syracuse (Neb) Bluebirds, a nationally ranked women's softball team in the 1930s.

In the 1950s, Vincent was a bobby-sox girl. A straight-A student, the elected "Mustang Queen," she took up baton twirling, she has said, because it was one of the few competitive sports available to girls, and Lynne was nothing if not competitive. Lynne and Dick graduated in 1959 -- the same year as the Rydell High gang made famous in the movie "Grease." He wasn't quite the John Travolta to her Olivia Newton-John, but Cheney was class president and captain of the football team and Vincent certainly knew how to light up a stage. Dick would stand by her side with a coffee can filled with water while she twirled batons, on fire at both ends. He'd douse them when she was done.

During the 2000 race, Dick Cheney commented to a reporter that he and Lynne might never have met. "You'd be married to someone else now," he said to her. "Right" she piped up. "And he'd be running for vice president of the United States instead of you." She's got a point. After high school, it was Dick, not Lynne (the academic star,) who received a full scholarship to Yale but after two failed attempts to make the grade, he dropped out, returned to Wyoming, picked up two drunk-driving convictions, and took a union job laying power lines for the local company. It was Vincent (who was eager-beavering away at state colleges, earning a BA and an MA in English,) who pestered Cheney to return to school. Only after her graduation would she agree to marry. ("Dick should have finished college" too, she says, but he "hadn't quite.")