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America's Big Three automakers — General Motors, Ford and Chrysler — are at the brink and asking for government money to avert bankruptcy or a fire-sale takeover by whoever is courageous enough to buy the wrecks.

Three weeks ago, President-elect Barack Obama asked President George W. Bush to prop up the American auto industry on the grounds that letting it collapse would devastate the American economy, conceivably beyond the point of repair.

He is right. The death of the industry that was the "arsenal of democracy" during World War II would plunge the United States into a prolonged recession and send an economic tsunami around the globe — likely decimating the economies of Canada, western Europe and Japan as well.

On Veterans Day, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi and Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid signed on. The Bush administration, Pelosi said, "must take immediate action."

The Democratic leadership group huddled in an emergency meeting at a time politicians normally devote to honoring veterans of all wars Americans have ever fought. But in Washington, this somber date was all about the living and the future, and never was the political cliche "What's good for General Motors is good for America" more apt.

A couple of weeks passed and Pelosi and Reid developed an acute case of waititis. Almost certainly they would have had the votes to pass the necessary legislation. But bristling with righteousness and spite for an unpopular industry, they insist on a plan for instant cure.

One can weigh the choice between preserving Wall Street's multi-million bucks bonuses and dividends or an industry power crucial to America's future as a power. But for me, the choice is clear.

The rationale for helping Detroit is unassailable. The auto industry's rapid demise would throw more than 3 million Americans out of work in a hurry, a shock even the United States might not survive.

Although direct employment in car and automotive-parts plants is relatively low when measured against the total of jobs in the United States, the number of jobs dependent on the auto industry is enormous. From the corner tavern bartenders to college professors educating children of middle-class autoworkers, real people would feel the effects of incomes no longer there.

The potential economic devastation is so frightening, I think political leaders would not want to risk it. That is why Obama's request to Bush must be seen as a commitment to prevent economic catastrophe.

Helping Detroit will not be easy — for Bush or Obama. Americans don't like Detroit. "Over my dead body," they say, will they pay an industry that, they feel, let them down.

This unrelieved bleakness is not brightened even by the undeniable facts that American cars are much better now than they have ever been, and that the car makers are not getting the credit they deserve. They have acquired a bad reputation, and the public still preferred a Toyota over a Chevy, even when they came off the same assembly line and their only difference was in the name plate.

Washington has successfully propped up the auto industry before. Car makers demanded tariff protection — and got it. Chrysler asked for a bailout in 1979 — and got it. The bailout worked. Chrysler recovered and blossomed. Harley Davidson was on the block and Washington stepped in. The totemic American motorcycle is now a legend.

These two examples must be kept before the eyes of the Congress, Bush and Obama as they decide whether to act or twiddle their thumbs. America has no choice other than to save Detroit — a hard-nosed city that put the world on wheels.