Humans have extolled the virtues and memories of their heroes by naming things and places after them. This serves as a gentle prod to memory as to the qualities we cherish and celebrate. As with every other human activity this can be a fraught and complicated process.
The Confederate Battle Flag has to be a provocation to every black American. We seem to have decided Robert E. Lee was OK, but Jefferson Davis was not. The controversies continue even as the issue was settled on the battlefield over 150 years ago. It looks like no one wants to admit the struggle was over slavery.
You have only to read “The Plot Against America” by Philip Roth to understand why it was, indisputably, a mistake to apotheosize Charles Lindbergh. The evidence of shocking infidelity has been piled on the fascist, anti-semitic views of another unlikely—and to some of us, embarrassing—hero. His name clings stubbornly to our airport terminal.
Another example is the erstwhile Richard M. Nixon High School.
Now along comes another challenge to our sensibilities.
The FBI’s headquarters, named after J. Edgar Hoover—its long-time director—is to be razed. What should its replacement be named?
Curt Gentry’s definitive biography—and a stream of revelations since Hoover’s death almost 50 years ago—reveal not America’s foremost crime fighter, as he would have clearly defined himself, but a self-protective, self-seeking, self-perpetuating tyrant who had little real interest in fighting crime and gave himself over to clinging to power by whatever means necessary.
While I served in the NYPD I spent eight years (’57 to ’65) in the Intelligence Division that had an intimate relationship with the FBI. An agent spent every day there studying our files and copying our reports. This accorded perfectly with Hoover’s passion for chasing Reds—a major preoccupation of our Bureau of Special Services.
I worried about what I thought were America’s two biggest problems—illegal drugs and the Mafia—but Hoover didn’t just lack interest, he actively opposed FBI investigations of these areas. We have seen how absolutely central the FBI has been since Hoover’s death—in battling the Mafia, a brilliant and hugely valuable effort.
I thought—as a consequence of my exposure—that Hoover was the worst thing that happened to law enforcement in America in the 20th century—a huge chunk of which he dominated.
The new director, James Comey, has a great public record. He saved Attorney General Ashcroft from a major violation of the U.S. Constitution and has otherwise rendered sterling service. He has a great opportunity to help erase the blemish Hoover has left on law enforcement in America.