PBS’s The Incomparable Mr. Buckley is in many ways a favorable treatment of the founding father of modern conservatism, William F. Buckley Jr. The program explores Buckley’s many fine personal qualities and professional talents and tells the story of his greatest public achievement in patiently marshaling conservative intellectual resources to shape and transform the modern Republican Party into a powerful conservative presence on the national political scene — a presence that triumphed with the election and reelection of Buckley’s friend Ronald Reagan to the presidency. But, predictably, the program ends with what PBS calls the “dark side” of conservatism: the rise of Trumpism. Buckley, according to PBS, too often accommodated this “dark side” and, therefore, shares the blame for Trumpism.
Despite frequent praise of Buckley from commentators on both the left and the right, and despite the program’s appreciation of Buckley’s energy, personality, and skills, there are hints of this “dark” conclusion throughout the program, including Buckley’s support for Sen. Joe McCarthy in the early 1950s, his insufficient support of the civil rights movement in the 1960s, and his toleration of divisive figures on the political right, such as Newt Gingrich and Rush Limbaugh. Indeed, the program ends with the events of Jan. 6, 2021, as if to say: This is where Buckley brought us.
That, of course, is nonsense. It is the product of the leftist worldview of the people at PBS. Sure, Buckley can be praised for some of his accomplishments, especially since he is dead. That is the same way liberals treated Reagan, whom they scorned as a dangerous reactionary who was going to get us into World War III while he was alive but treated with a degree of respect and fondness after he died. But praise of Buckley must not be permitted to carry over to praise of conservatism. PBS won’t allow that.
The Buckley story is a fascinating one. Born into wealth and privilege, educated at the finest schools, imbued with an intellectual confidence at a very young age, William F. Buckley Jr. was like a bright, shining star. He was handsome and polished, a skilled and prolific writer of both fiction and nonfiction, a brilliant debater and wordsmith, a skillful sailor of oceans, musically talented, personally gregarious, and quick to make friends. He worked briefly for the CIA. He had talented siblings (his sister Priscilla was also a writer and editor, and his brother Jim was a senator, statesman, and federal appeals court judge), a beautiful wife, and a witty and talented son.
Buckley first came to public attention with his book God and Man at Yale, a precocious and stinging critique of his alma mater. He used his wealth to found a conservative magazine, National Review. He recruited remarkable writers and personalities, such as James Burnham, Russell Kirk, Frank Meyer, Willmoore Kendall, and Whittaker Chambers. Buckley’s magazine provided the intellectual fire and sustenance for the growing conservative movement. National Review’s pages were open to cultural conservatives, libertarians, and anti-communists. Buckley promoted their “fusion” into a significant political movement. That movement nominated Barry Goldwater for president in 1964, helped Richard Nixon squeak by to victory in 1968, nearly defeated incumbent President Gerald Ford at the 1976 GOP convention, and helped usher Ronald Reagan into the White House in 1980. Reagan was a friend of Buckley’s and a devoted reader of National Review.
Buckley was a devout Roman Catholic, which is mentioned, albeit briefly, in the PBS program. Indeed, Buckley’s faith was even more important to him than his conservative philosophy, though in many ways his deep faith shaped that philosophy. National Review under his tutelage was a very Catholic magazine. For obvious reasons, PBS spent quite a bit more time on Buckley’s television program Firing Line, which ran on PBS from 1966 to 1999. Firing Line tackled controversial issues with important guests who were both interviewed and debated by Buckley. During each episode, the Buckley intellect and wit were on full display.
Interestingly, the PBS program notes that Buckley’s initial elitism evolved into a pro-police, pro-military, pro-cultural populism (he famously said that he would rather be governed by the first 2,000 names in the Boston telephone book than by the 2,000 members of the Harvard faculty) that is not that much different from the populist movement that propelled Donald Trump to the presidency. Though not mentioned in the PBS program, Buckley, like Trump, opposed George W. Bush’s Iraq War and the notion of spreading democracy throughout the Middle East.
It was probably too much to ask of PBS to refrain from highlighting the “dark side” of conservatism in a program that otherwise celebrates the life of William F. Buckley Jr. One can only hope that Sam Tanenhaus’ forthcoming biography of Buckley gives us the man in full without tarnishing it with a political agenda.