Here's a long and detailed backgrounder on the four young
Watergate-wannabes who
got themselves arrested trying to bug the NOLA offices of Sen.
Mary Landrieu.
As long and detailed as it is, however, there's one detail that
the reporters somehow
either missed, or knew enough to keep out of their story, or that
was white out by
someone over them: the link between O'Keefe accomplice Stanley
Dai and the US
government's own spy-recruitment apparatus.
As Mark Hosenball reported on his Newsweek blog last
Wednesday (an item I sent
out to my list, and posted on my own blog, that same day):
Between August
2007 and October 2008, Stanley Dai served as assistant director of a
program called the Intelligence Community Center of Academic
Excellence at Trinity Washington University, a small Catholic college
in Washington D.C., according to a school official. The official,
university vice president Ann Pauley, said that the program was
completely funded by the Office of the Director of National
Intelligence. She said the purpose of the program was to expose both
undergraduates and graduate students at the university to the work of
the intelligence community and to prepare them for possible careers in
intelligence. As a result of the program, Pauley said, the university
established a master's degree program in intelligence and security
studies. She added that the government grant funding the program ended
in 2008.
I'd say it's quite significant--so much so that the
Times won't even mention it--that these
felonious extremists are connected not just to the rightist
network on the nation's college
campuses, but to US intelligence.
MCM
High Jinks to Handcuffs for Landrieu
Provocateur
From left, James O'Keefe III, Stan Dai, Robert Flanagan and
Joseph Basel.
James
O'Keefe III, the guerrilla videographer, advised
conservative students this month that they needed to start taking more
risks.
The house in New Orleans where three of the arrested men
stayed.
Senator Mary L. Landrieu
"The more you put yourself out there and you take those
calculated risks," he told
the
Web site CampusReform.org, which works to foster
conservative activism on college campuses, "you're actually going
to get opportunities."
Just days later, Mr. O'Keefe, 25, took his own advice, but did
not get quite the opportunity he expected.
He and three other men - including a 24-year-old associate,
Joseph Basel, who was interviewed alongside Mr. O'Keefe by the Web
site - were arrested and charged with a federal felony, accused of
seeking to tamper with the office telephone system of Senator
Mary
L. Landrieu, Democrat of Louisiana. Two of them were
impersonating repairmen in the senator's New Orleans office and were
caught after being asked for identification.
Mr. O'Keefe said Friday that the four men had been trying to
determine whether Ms. Landrieu was avoiding constituent complaints
about the Senate health care bill after her phone system was jammed in
December. (Her office said no calls had been intentionally avoided.)
On reflection, he said in a statement, "I could have used a
different approach to this investigation."
But that approach was precisely the kind that he and others have
been perfecting for years, a kind of gonzo journalism or a
conservative version of "
Candid
Camera."
Those methods took root on college campuses in the latter half
of
George
W. Bush's presidency, fostered by a group of men
and women in their late teens and early 20s with a taste for
showmanship and a shared sense of political alienation - a sort of
political reverse image of the left-wing Yippies of the 1960s. They
studied leftist activism of years past as their prototype, looking to
the tactics of Saul Alinsky, the Chicago community organizer who laid
the framework for grass-roots activism in the '60s, as well as those
of gay rights and even Communist groups.
They held "affirmative action" bake sales with prices set
based on the age and race of the buyer, posed as donors to
Planned
Parenthood seeking to contribute to the
abortion of African-American fetuses only, and held a mock "Love Thy
Prisoner" campaign to find American homes for Guantánamo
inmates.
Mr. O'Keefe made his biggest national splash last year when he
dressed up as a pimp and trained his secret camera on counselors with
the liberal community group Acorn - eliciting advice on financing a
brothel on videos that would threaten to become Acorn's undoing.
He quickly became a cult hero among young conservatives who saw
his work as groundbreaking and sought to emulate him.
Liberals have denounced his methods as dishonest, a form of
entrapment, but national Republican leaders seized on them as
revelatory, pressuring Congress into cutting Acorn's financing.
Mr. O'Keefe produced his videos with a partner, Hannah Giles,
who posed as a prostitute in them. Although he may be the most public
face of this new approach, he is just one of a group of young
conservatives who use political pranks and embarrassing recordings to
upend what they view as overwhelming liberal biases on college
campuses and in the culture at large.
The Path to New Orleans
In the incident in New Orleans, several of the group's central
players came together. They had met through a small community of
conservative college newspaper editors that is fostered by advocacy
organizations supported by old Republican families like the Coorses
and Scaifes.
One of those arrested was Stan Dai, 24, a former editor in chief
of the irreverent
GW
Patriot at
George
Washington University, where he published an
anti-feminist article lampooning the play "The Vagina Monologues."
His version was called "The Penis Monologues."
Another was Mr. Basel, 24, the co-founder of a conservative
publication at the
University
of Minnesota, Morris, that features headlines
like "Third World Countries Need Sweatshops" and "I Hate
Che
Guevara T-Shirts."
The fourth was Robert Flanagan, 24, who did not know the others
before roughly two weeks ago, his lawyer said, when Mr. O'Keefe gave
a speech for the Pelican Institute for Public Policy, a libertarian
organization in New Orleans for which Mr. Flanagan works a few hours a
week. Until then, Mr. Flanagan, a star athlete and son of a federal
prosecutor, had not been known by friends to be particularly
provocative in his conservatism, though he had been sharply critical
of Ms. Landrieu on the institute's blog.
And then there was Ben Wetmore, 28, who was not arrested but who
allowed Mr. Dai, Mr. O'Keefe and Mr. Basel to stay at his house in
New Orleans this month. The authorities have not indicated that Mr.
Wetmore, a Loyola law student, was connected to the incident at Ms.
Landrieu's office, but he has nonetheless played a vital role in Mr.
O'Keefe's career, as well as that of Mr. Basel and other
activists.
Mr. Wetmore helped introduce many of the activists to one another
and inspired them through his take on attention-grabbing tactics. His
often behind-the-scenes role was detailed in a trail he left on the
Internet, as well as in several interviews.
"Benjamin Wetmore: a mentor of mine; a genius," Mr. O'Keefe
said during an interview with The New York Times in September, after
the Acorn videos were released. "He said, 'Take on the politically
correct crowd on campus, satirically.' "
Mr. O'Keefe declined several interview requests, and Mr.
Wetmore responded to an e-mail message by sending photographs of
Jayson Blair, a reporter for The New York Times who resigned after
admitting to plagiarism and fabrication. Mr. Dai, Mr. Basel and Mr.
Flanagan could not be reached for comment. (The four men arrested were
freed on bail, awaiting a pretrial hearing.)
The partnership between Mr. O'Keefe and Mr. Wetmore appears to
have started in earnest in 2004.
As a philosophy major at
Rutgers
University, Mr. O'Keefe came to believe that
conservative-leaning students were being force-fed a diet of academic
liberalism. As he put it at the time, they were "drowned in
relativism, concepts of distributive justice and redistribution of
wealth."
He and some friends started an alternative conservative
publication called The Centurion with $500 from the conservative
Leadership Institute's Balance in Media grant program, which was
overseen at the time by Mr. Wetmore. The institute, founded in 1979,
is based in Arlington, Va., and is best known for training campus
conservatives to influence public policy.
Before joining the institute, Mr. Wetmore had established his own
bona fides as a college provocateur at American University. He drew
national attention after being arrested by the campus police and
accused of breaking a prohibition against recording
Tipper
Goreduring a speech she gave there in 2002 and
refusing to surrender the tape.
The arrest became a cause célèbre for First Amendment
advocates and showcased what would become a standard technique of Mr.
Wetmore and his cohort: taping classes, lectures and other campus
events in the hopes of catching professors and others in moments of
excessive political correctness or other embarrassments. He made
headlines again roughly two years later when American University's
president, Benjamin Ladner, unsuccessfully tried to stop Mr. Wetmore
from running the Web site
BenLadner.com, which was devoted to
criticizing him.
Campus pranks have a long tradition, but Mr. O'Keefe and Mr.
Wetmore were "among the early users of putting multimedia content
online for the conservative cause," said Ryan Nichols, a grass-roots
conservative activist and former colleague of both men at the
Leadership Institute. "In that sense, they were pioneering."
The group's other main tactic, which Mr. O'Keefe has said was
inspired by "Rules for Radicals," Mr. Alinsky's manifesto for
left-wing organizing, was to caricature liberal political and social
values by carrying them to outlandish extremes.
In the Times interview last September, Mr. O'Keefe credited Mr.
Wetmore with giving him the idea for one of his most talked-about
video farces, which continues to draw attention on
YouTube: a
campaign to rid a dining hall of Lucky Charms cereal, because it was
offensive to Irish students.
In the video, Mr. O'Keefe quickly exhibited his absurdist
improvisational style, telling a school official that the leprechaun
on the cereal box appeared as "an Irish-American" who is
"portrayed as a little green-cladded gnome or huckster."
Making Waves
His first issue of The Centurion - with a mock New York Times
front page with headlines like "Study Shows Mr. Bush Unfit for
Presidency" - drew an immediate reaction, and a following.
"Everyone was like: 'Whoa, what is this? Oh my
goodness,' " said Gregory W. Levitsky, a friend and colleague
of Mr. O'Keefe at The Centurion. Anthony Gioia, another former
Rutgers student, said he joined the newspaper after seeing that first
issue.
"Rutgers, like every university, is a very liberal institution,
so we were a small group of friends trying to combat that atmosphere,"
Mr. Gioia said. "The way we went about it was very provocative and
made people take notice, and we won over a lot of people to our way of
thinking."
Mr. Gioia recalled discussions of "Rules for Radicals" and
visits to the paper by Mr. Wetmore, whose motto was "Don't
complain about the media - be the media."
But if The Centurion delighted fellow conservatives, it
frequently left campus liberals flabbergasted. When it published an
opinion article titled "The Inequality of Black History Month," a
student, Whitney Pennington, wrote in The Rutgers Daily Targum,
"Honestly, in responding to this article, I do not even know where to
begin."
Tabitha Rice, who was in the College Democrats at Rutgers and who
had numerous run-ins with Mr. O'Keefe, described him as
"insufferable."
"He always would do something that would get a rise, but he
always knows how to work the system," she said.
Around the same time, Mr. Wetmore wrote on his blog about a visit
with another recipient of a Leadership Institute grant, Mr. Basel, who
used the money to start his newspaper, The Counterweight.
Among Mr. Basel's stunts was one in which he put up posters all
over his campus in Minnesota that said "End Racism & Sexism Now:
Kill All White Males." The posters prompted such an outcry that he
was asked to speak at a campus forum, where, according to two
students, he asked why everyone could not use racial epithets the way
black rappers do. Many black students walked out.
"His methods were kind of to create an uproar," said Nate
Giles, a former president of the black student union at the
university. "That's what was abrasive, not his actual
points."
After college, Mr. O'Keefe took a job with Mr. Wetmore at the
Leadership Institute and began traveling the country to help students
with their publications. He worked intensely, said Morton Blackwell,
the institute's founder, remaining dedicated to his own projects.
But eventually the institute developed some discomfort with the
approach.
"He wanted to do sting operations that would affect
legislation; he made some calls which have been covered in the news
media to Planned Parenthood," Mr. Blackwell said. "That was beyond
the scope of what we had hired him to do. We are an educational
organization. We are not an activist organization."
Mr. Blackwell said he offered Mr. O'Keefe the choice between
pursuing activism or working for his organization, "and he said he
was committed to the activism."
In the end, Mr. O'Keefe's Planned Parenthood campaign - in
which some of the organization's workers were recorded accepting
donations from one of Mr. O'Keefe's characters who said the money
should go to abort only black fetuses - forced Planned Parenthood to
apologize in multiple states, though officials also complained that
some tapes were "heavily edited."
Old Tactics, New Goals
The campaign caught the eye of Andrew Breitbart, a conservative
Web publisher and a former editor of The Drudge Report. In an
interview, he said he had admired the Planned Parenthood campaign but
did not know who was behind it until Mr. O'Keefe approached him with
the Acorn project.
Mr. Breitbart likened Mr. O'Keefe's approach to that of Abbie
Hoffman and
Hunter
S. Thompson. His business arrangement with Mr.
O'Keefe to run the videos on his Big Government site is widely
credited with giving them national exposure, and making Mr. O'Keefe
a star of his movement.
By last fall, Mr. Wetmore seemed less involved in Mr.
O'Keefe's projects, apparently because he had moved to New Orleans to
attend law school at Loyola University. Nonetheless, Mr. O'Keefe,
Mr. Basel and Mr. Dai showed up in town a few months later.
Mr. O'Keefe had been invited to speak at a Pelican Institute
luncheon on Jan. 21. The invitation had come about, said the
institute's president, Kevin Kane, because the institute had done
its own investigations of Acorn, albeit of the more traditional
kind.
The topic of the day was undercover video and new media, but Mr.
O'Keefe made it clear to some who attended the luncheon that he had
other, unspecified work to do in New Orleans.
Also at the luncheon was Mr. Flanagan, who had worked as an
intern in the offices of several Republican members of Congress. He
moved to New Orleans last year, putting in a few hours a week as a
blogger for the Pelican Institute.
David Centofante, who was in a defense and strategic studies
program with Mr. Flanagan at Missouri State University, said he
received an e-mail message from Mr. Flanagan a couple of weeks
ago.
"He said to me, 'You know the guy O'Keefe who did the Acorn
thing?' " Mr. Centofante said. " 'We're working
together on something kind of cool.' "
Things did not quite work out as planned.
=========================
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