his early college education at the MiddlernTennessee State Teachers College, andrnhis work on the Operations Staff of thernCommander-in-Chief of the Pacific theaterrnduring World War II as examplesrnof his typicality; this could have beenrnthe life of any other Southern boy of hisrngeneration, he suggests. But it seems asrnif these experiences forged instead hisrnsingularity. He writes nonelegiacallyrnabout his working childhood on a farmrnand the day-to-day deprivations that didrnnot seem to him to be deprivations;rnabout being a day student riding intorntown and back to the farm in his earlyrncollege davs; of the precise and neverendingrnwork of tracking location and directionrnof movement for the U. S. fleetrnin the Pacific under Admiral Chester W.rnNimitz. He presents his life as if he believesrnit could have been anyone’s andrncould have turned him into anyone.rnHe muses on the nature of fate andrncircumstance in the words of a countryrntune he composed in his youth (“Myrnmother discouraged me from even listeningrnto country music, but it was sornmuch a part of Middle Tennessee thatrnall of us variously imagined ourselves tornbe songwriters”): “There are too manyrnforks in the road, / There are too manyrnforks in the road, / And I never couldrnlearn / Not to take the wrong turn. /rnThere are too many forks in the road.”rnWhile contemplating the way any differentrnchoice along the path of his lifernwould have deposited him in a placernmiles and worlds away from the man hernis now, Buchanan is lead to the conclusionrnthat “exogenous event and chancernmay be far more relevant than personalrnchoices.” He may believe this. But therncharacter forged through the choices ofrnhis rural, Southern boyhood survives todayrnin the almost transcendent satisfactionrnhe experiences in the “physical engagementrnwith the earth itself” that hisrncurrent life (in a home that he largelyrnbuilt himself from the ground up, onrnland where he grows his own food) providesrnhim. And this character, forgedrnand tested through the choices he hasrnmade, is a necessary part of the man hernreveals in this homey, sensible, and delightfulrnbook.rnHis character also defines the economicrnresearch program that earnedrnhim his renown. His dedication to freerntrade is rooted in his Southern identity;rn”I sensed that the free trade principlernwas indeed central to the traditionalrndemocratic-southern-populist set of values”rnand that “this principle had beenrnsubverted . . . by the protectionist-monopolistrninterest of the East and North.”rnHis experience of discrimination againstrnhimself and his fellow Southerners by arncadet officer in the Army gave him arnpermanent dislike for the entrenched interestsrnof Eastern elites who lord overrnand disdain the bulk of the citizenry.rnHis rural background, far removedrnfrom the depredations of the governmentrnwhose skewed workings Buchananrnhas spent a career analyzing, also seemsrnkey in cementing individuals and theirrnchoices at the heart of his economic approach.rnBuchanan mav poor-mouthrnhimself and his economic achieements,rnbut that is merely the pleasing modestyrnof the Southern boy who has worked,rnworked hard and worked well; and whornhas earned the sense of independence,rnsecurity, and achievement that he seemsrnto have taken from his life. Buchananrncomes across as a delightful and intellectuallyrnpowerful man; and, as like precedesrnfrom like, he has produced a delightfulrnand intellectually powerful setrnof memoirs.rnBrian Doherty writes from Washington,rnD.C.rnClassic Colonialismrnby Wayne LuttonrnHold Your Tongue: Bilingualism andrnthe Politics of “English Only”rnby ]ames CrawfordrnReading, Massachusetts:rnAddison-Wesley; 324 pp., $24.95rnAlmost alone among the peoples ofrnthe world, the United States hasrnlargely been spared—at least until recentlyrn—the bitter conflicts that plaguerncountries whose citizens do not share arncommon language. Since the early 17thrncentury, immigrants from diverse backgroundsrnhave settled here. In the past, itrnwas understood that in exchange for enjoyingrnopportunities for personal developmentrnand economic advancementrnand a measure of political equality unavailablernelsewhere, newcomers wouldrnlearn English, acquire a useful skill, andrnparticipate in conmiunity life by becomingrncitizens. That was what “Americanization”rninvolved. This covenantrnbetween America and successive generationsrnof immigrants worked pretty wellrnas long as it was observed by both parties.rnBut this unwritten compact hasrnundergone a drastic re’ision since thern1960’s.rnIn the wake of Lyndon Johnson’srnlandslide victory in 1964 over BarryrnGoldwater, the Great Society Congressrnpassed a new immigration act that departedrnfrom our previous policy of wellregulatedrnentry. The “national origin”rnquotas that had been in effect since thernearl)’ 1920’s were eliminated. The 1965rnact established a system emphasizingrnfamily ties over other considerations. Althoughrnproponents of the new law, suchrnas its sponsor in the Senate, TedrnKennedy, claimed that the act wouldrneliminate discrimination, what it actuallyrnaccomplished—just as Senator SamrnErvin predicted it would—was discriminationrnagainst traditional immigrantrngroups in favor of natives of Third Woridrncountries. By exploiting provisions forrnfamily reunification, individuals withrnlarge families and man relatives werernthus able to practice what has since becomernknown as “chain migration.” Thernentry of millions of people from LatinrnAmerica and Asia coincided with arnbreakdown of institutional support forrnassimilation, exemplified by bilingualrneducation and voting. Later, affirmativernaction preferences were extended tornthose possessing limited fluency in English.rnIn Hold Your Tongue, James Crawford,rna former Washington editor of EducationrnWeek, discusses the rise of bilingualismrnand of the grass-roots oppositionrnto it that emerged in the earlyrn1980’s. Congress passed the BilingualrnEducation Act in 1968; by the mid-rnI970’s the federal government was fundingrnan assortment of programs in 26 differentrnlanguages. Although proficiencyrnin English is supposed to be a conditionrnfor naturalization, in 1975 Congressrnmandated that bilingual ballots be madernavailable.rnThe Supreme Court ventured intornthis arena with its Lau . Nichols decisionrnin 1974. In this case, the court decreedrnthat public schools must take “affirmativernsteps” to compensate for arnchild’s lack of fluency in English. Inrn1982, in Plyler v. Doe, the SupremernCourt ruled five to four that states mustrnprovide public education at the elcmen-rnMARCH 1993/33rnrnrn