Politics & Power Quote by Oscar Levant

Levant’s line lands because it twists a familiar proverb into a diagnosis of political character. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it” is the respectable sound of prudence: don’t borrow trouble, deal with realities as they arrive. Levant swaps “cross” for “double cross” and the whole civic script flips from caution to betrayal. The gag is compact, but the cynicism is meticulous: politics isn’t merely the art of compromise or delay, it’s the art of premeditated duplicity, timed to look like necessity.

The construction matters. “When he comes to it” implies inevitability and control, like the politician is always moving forward. “Double cross” suggests a second, hidden itinerary running alongside the public one. The bridge becomes a perfect metaphor for public trust: a structure everyone depends on, built to get us from problem to solution. Levant insinuates the politician uses that moment of passage to switch loyalties, rewrite promises, and declare the switch unavoidable because “the situation changed.”

Context sharpens the bite. Levant, a composer and public wit rather than a party operator, speaks with the outsider’s license to puncture sanctimony. Mid-century American public life was thick with boosterish rhetoric about institutions while scandals, machine politics, and Cold War opportunism flourished. The line doesn’t argue policy; it punctures the emotional contract. It assumes voters want reassurance, so politicians offer proverbs. Levant’s subtext: the soothing cliche is not just empty, it’s camouflage.