Back on the Roadbike

Everything changes when you don't ride. The past two weeks, I couldn't, mostly because of cold, icy, or snowy conditions. Every morning I found myself getting into the car, driving to the train, and then walking the last half mile to the office. I brought fewer sandwiches for lunch, had to remind myself to eat less at dinner (not always successfully), and gradually also started to feel strange things in my legs and back. Stuff not being used. Psychologically, I wasn't in such bad shape, because I always knew that not riding was the sensible thing to do. On most days, it wasn't even a question. On some others I would still conclude that the possible consequences of going down in the dark on some black ice just were too ominous. It has happened to me before, after all. As a more recent reminder, a fellow commuter here in town, a committed rider if there ever was one (I've written about her before) went down on some wet leaves earlier this fall, breaking her shoulder in three places. Surgery isn't an option, and neither is a cast, but meanwhile the pieces still need to grow back together, my friend needs to put up with a lot of pain, all the while wondering if she'll ever regain full use of that important body part. So I drove, and I read on the train, and I walked more stairs in my building than normally, and I put up with the crowds on the trains, and I dutifully cleaned the car off in the morning, and then again at night. Thankfully, there were the speedskating sessions on Monday mornings, and last Sunday I managed a little more than an hour on my old mountain bike, partly on slushy trails, partly on mostly clean roads and bikepaths. The past two days, thaw really took over and so this morning I happily did the 21 mile Abcoude, or hooky, loop on the Klein. Looks like I'll add some more miles to the annual total tomorrow. Just three more weeks to go to pad that very important number.

Buy a Newspaper

There was a letter, earlier this month, from the leadership of the Dutch GDP news syndicate, the organization I have served since 2001 as a regular op-ed contributor. The relationship will have to come to an end due to a reorganization of the group's work. In plain language this means that money problems have made me and other outside contributors unaffordable for the syndicate and its member papers. Not only that, at the main office jobs will have to be shed also, for example by having certain staff members over 60 take early retirement. It's unfortunate for me, because I really enjoy doing these op-eds and I think they're good for me as a contemporary historian, but the news is worse for what it says about the state of the news business. I haven't looked at numbers recently, but the problem is that fewer and fewer people choose to pay for the news they consume. While the internet makes it easy (overwhelming may be a better term) to gather news for free, I think declining subscriber figures show that not enough people think hard enough about how serious, reliable reporting emerges. Not enough people seem to realize that a professional news organization, employing knowledgeable and experienced reporters, costs more money than advertising provides. What's needed, therefore, is for more people to find a way to pay for at least part of the news they consume on a daily basis. There's nothing wrong with getting most of your information on-line, as long as you also take out a subscription from a news organization (or maybe two) or donate something from time to time. Without solid, professional reporting lots of information and, especially, opinions will continue to clutter the internet. That is not the same as having a reliable, independent press, even though it may look like it. Traditional news organizations, such as newspapers, will, of course, have to adapt to a changing media landscape. No matter how you look at it, however, we're going to need professional journalists (people doing this full-time, as a career) to get us the facts, to ask the tough questions, to put specific information in its proper context and in its proper relationship to other developments. Those people, and their organizations, will need to get paid, and they will need to get paid in part directly by us, the consumers of their work. If you believe in open societies, in a free press, ask yourself what it takes really to have all this; then ask yourself if you're doing enough to make it happen. Buy a newspaper.

On Stage

Twice this week. First on a panel entitled "Russia and its Neighbors," the next night on Obama's foreign policy after the mid-terms. It was fun, and it all prepared me for a phone call this afternoon from a newspaper on the START treaty and where it's headed in the U.S. Senate, why, and why it matters. On the Russia panel I talked about how things had progressively deteriorated between the U.S. and Russia since the end of the Cold War but how the "reset" actually has been getting off the ground a little in the past year. I did not forget to warn of the strategic and ideological limits to the further development of the relationship characterized right now by a fair amount of pragmatism on both sides. On the U.S. panel the next night, having been asked to focus on the "war" part of current U.S. foreign policy, I argued that continuity dominates in Obama's campaign against Al Qaida and similar groups, including the legal issues surrounding the prisoners at Guantanamo and elsewhere. It's easier to promise change as a candidate than to deliver it as commander-in-chief with the buck stopping on your desk. Anything that works in Obama's foreign policy, one questioner wanted to know? Well, there's the "reset." Then, the same day, the junior Senator from Arizona indicated the Republicans may want to deny the president this success also. Voting to ratify the new START treaty, one of the tangible positive results of the "reset" so far, might not be opportune for the lame-duck Congress, he said. Of course, with more Republicans in the new Senate next year, it's going to be even tougher. Most Republicans seem to be fighting tooth and nail against the notion--it looms pretty large these days--that today's U.S. is not your 1990s hyperpower anymore. Cutting the Pentagon's budget? Well, that would just be confirmation of a U.S. in decline, and so we can't have that; instead we need to increase the defense budget beyond what the Pentagon itself asks for. But don't ask us how to pay for it! START would be sensible policy even for a hegemonic U.S.. It does, of course, involve cutting the nuclear arsenal. This is unacceptable for a Republican right terribly anxious about possibly no longer being the undisputed number one in the world. But the president is not giving up yet. In an op-ed after the mid-terms (in Dutch) I said that given the difficult situation of the country, there are ample reasons for everyone in Washington to look for ways to collaborate. There's lots of human and material potential being wasted (not to mention time). START ratification would be a good place to, eh, start, but I would not put a lot of money on it.

Multiple Layers of Self-Reliance

Apologies, this is another cycling-related post. Cycling, of course, would be one way in which one could enhance one's self-reliance once energy supplies start to run low and driving, or public transportation, becomes either prohibitively expensive, unreliable, or both. Cycling is already a good strategy to get to work for me now, because I don't have to worry about traffic jams or train delays, of which there are plenty in the Amsterdam region. But this is a post about a small thing that happened to me today, not about the long- or medium term sustainability of Western ways of living. I had a flat, riding by myself this morning. That's not supposed to happen, because I make sure always to run the excellent Continental Gatorskin tires. In Holland, you can't get these (only the sew-up version, which incidentally I also use when I ride the nice wheels on the nice bike), but from the U.K. you can, and after confirming he really could not get them for me, my local bike shop gave me permission to order them there. But certain sharp, pointy things can penetrate even the toughest tires, and this morning I picked up, on a section covered with fallen leaves, a thin, sharp piece of metal in the very low reaches of the sidewall. So my first layer of self-reliance (use reliable stuff and keep it in working order) failed. My second did too: when I pulled out my spare tube, it turned out to have not one, but two holes in it. When I put it in my saddle bag months ago, I must have confused it with a good one. Fortunately, I also always bring patches and glue, and they bailed me out and got me home. Another way to get out of these situations (and I was running out of options this morning) should be with the help of fellow cyclists. However, as I stood there messing with my stuff--the bike on the ground, the wheel in my hands--I was passed at least twice by other road cyclists, each time without as much as a sound. In case they're reading along: the proper etiquette, gentlemen, is to ask if your unfortunate fellow cyclist needs any help: a pump, a tube, anything. You don't even have to stop to ask. But at least ask the question as you ride by. I've noticed that Dutch cyclists do this less than American ones. It may be for the same reason people over here are less friendly to strangers than Americans. (What those reasons might be we'll save for another post). Somebody eventually did stop to help, however. Just as I was trying to get the rear wheel back in the unhandy vertical drop-outs on my Klein, a Wegenwacht van pulled up (of the ANWB, the Dutch AAA), and the driver immediately started to get his hands as filthy as mine, trying to finish the job. Not only that, he gave me a rag to clean my hands, then took me to the back of his van where he keeps a soap dispenser, and when it was time to rise our hands, there also was a little faucet in the lower right-hand corner of the rear bumper dispensing not just water, but warm water. Needless to say perhaps, he also had a clean towel to top it all off. All this, fellow cyclists could not have provided. But it would have been nice if one of those guys riding by had shown a little interest. As Red Green says, after all: we're all in this together. And in case this concept is entirely new to you, gentlemen, also consider the words of Red's man's prayer.

Use Those Flashers

The Wall Street Journal writes about how difficult it is to get Dutch cyclists to wear helmets, but I'm writing about the cavalier way many of them go out without lights after dark. We went off daylight savings time last weekend, so this week I've started to ride home after dark. You really need your lights by 5:15 now, certainly on a cloudy day. And you're going to need them a lot: six months until spring! I use one headlight (or the other one), and two flashers attached to my seat stays. Most of the riding here is on bikepaths, but even there, and certainly on the little country roads (dikes) drivers often use as short-cuts, you are going to want to stand out like a Christmas tree. Recently, I've added a mount underneath my seat for an additional flasher. In spite of the fact that attaching it (and taking it off when parking the bike at work) adds yet another action to the long string of actions required to get ready for a cold season ride, I'm going to start using this third flasher too. There really is no such thing as overkill when it comes to this, especially if you also realize that if a flasher is positioned incorrectly, the effect can be reduced to almost zero. Also (this is what drivers surely know), one little flasher often barely makes a difference. You could be riding around feeling quite responsible, while in reality you're still a dark ghost that haunts the road. But that's people who care. It is the people who take this too lightly who need to start thinking (the way helmet-less folks need to turn on their brains): forget, for a moment, about the drivers you would be burdening with having hurt or killed a cyclist, forget also about general credibility of cyclists as participants in traffic; if there are people who care about you, people you care about, would you really want them to have to deal with the consequences of a possible tragedy? Bike-related tragedies happen every day, and many in hindsight turn out to have been preventable. The chances of something going wrong are relatively small, but when it does go wrong it can truly be tragic. And what's so hard about getting this right: spending a little bit of money for a few lights, spending a little bit of time to keep them charged, spending just a tiny bit of extra time to attach them to the bike? With these stakes? Gimme a break.

"The" Obama Effect

That, without the quotation marks, was the name of the conference I participated in this past week. It was held at the Roosevelt Study Center in Middelburg (Dutch province of Zeeland). The purpose of the conference was to look at the past, present, and future of the transatlantic relationship and see if the election of Barack Obama has had an impact on this old but evolving alliance. The organizers had brought in three excellent keynote speakers. On the opening night, NATO head of policy planning, Jamie Shea, gave us a detailed and sophisticated view of the current state of West-West relations. One the one hand, the Obama administration has not awarded a very high priority to the old continent in its foreign policy. See for example the cancellation of Obama's attendance at an EU-U.S. summit earlier this year, or his absence last year from the anniversary ceremonies of the start of World War II in Europe or the fall of the Berlin Wall. On the other hand, his administration has done much to send reassuring messages to Europe's fringes, as in the anxieties in Eastern and Central Europe about Russia, European concerns about the Balkans, and the place of Turkey in Europe. Both sides in the partnership, Shea suggested, need to worry about their own sins of (mostly) omission that threaten the long-term health of the alliance. The U.S. needs to get its financial and economic house in order to stem the spreading sense that it is a great power in decline, less and less able to act effectively around the world. It also would help if U.S. politics was less divisive ("poison politics"). The Europeans, in turn, should think hard about the way they're falling further and further below agreed-upon NATO defense spending targets. Soft power doesn't count for anything in Washington, only hard power gets you credibility. Europe, Shea warned, needs to recognize that the decline of U.S. interest in Europe is real. It would also be nice if "Europe" managed to act a little more in unison in foreign policy, also, or especially, outside the transatlantic relationship. If a multi-polar world is the future, and multilateralism its essential tool, the EU could do a lot more in developing its own ties to rising powers such as India and China.

The second keynote speaker, Scott Lucas, of the University of Birmingham, provided an alternative vision, one he also promotes through his website, EAWorldView. To take one major argument from his talk: Europe should worry much less about whether its policies please Washington. The U.S. would be much better served with an independently acting Europe telling Washington what its interests are. The U.S., meanwhile, should break with its tradition of military interventionism, especially in its struggle against Islamic terror groups, because it is counter-productive. Perhaps the main phrase from Lucas' talk came at the beginning: we (the U.S.-led West) needs to recognize the power of the regional and the local. That is where solutions to large problems can be found, not in Western interventionist capabilities.

The third keynote speaker was Marcel Wissenburg, a political theorist at Nijmegen University, who drew on recent work to discuss the differences between European ("Eastern") and U.S. approaches to environmental issues, especially the failed attempts to get the U.S. to sign on to international climate agreements. It is all about "culture," broadly defined. Americans just won't go for the thing that works so well in the "East," namely international agreements setting clear targets that countries should meet through targeted, government-mandated regulation. Pointing to the success of Governor Schwarzenegger in California and the 2007 Supreme Court ruling in Massachusetts v. EPA (authorizing the EPA to regulate greenhouse gas emissions), Wissenburg argued that the way forward for the U.S. is to go back to basic principles, such as "health" and move toward policy from there. By implication this would probably mean that there's no future for global climate agreements, but given also the attitude of for example China and India (not to mention Europe's own inability to meet agreed-upon targets) we already knew that.

So what is the Obama effect on transatlantic relations? Ties will be more business-like, and Europe will have to pull its own weight a good deal more, both in maintaining the relationship and in developing its own independent role. It would help if ordinary Europeans became a little less obsessed with their own lives and societies and developed a broader view of global affairs and what is required, also in military terms, to keep things from getting out of control. The U.S., meanwhile, should get a hold of itself, its politics, so that it gets back in a position from where it can take some sensible steps to repair the basis for its global power (which we still very much need). However much one might want to criticize the president, the burden to make that happen mostly rests with others; ultimately, it rests with the American people. It would help if more of them actively showed how the current hysteria does not represent them.

Catch-Up Posting

There were a couple of moments the past two weeks when I had reason to post, but you do have to take the time, and I didn't (that's a better explanation than: "no time," because "no time" really means "no priority"). I really do believe I usually had better, or at least more pressing things to do. And I'm afraid that includes taking advantage of the very nice fall weather last Saturday for one more team ride in shorts and short sleeves (Portengensebrug, Harmelen, Montfoort, Oudewater, Haastrecht, Reeuwijk/Gouda, Bodegraven, Woerden, Kanis, Breukelen for a total of 67 miles).

But I did do an-op ed two weeks ago arguing that the Dutch parliament should consider sending police and military trainers to Afghanistan because we're entering a crucial phase of the struggle there, given President Obama's time table. There are other signs that things remain in flux and that Western interests are at stake: the terror plot responsible for the increased number of U.S. drone attacks in the border area with Pakistan; discussions between certain Taliban and the Karzai government; military stalemate. I went out on a limb and said that the situation is not hopeless, and that in any case muddling through is preferable to total chaos there. Of course, one of the big ifs for a turn for the better in the region--Pakistan's cooperation in this campaign--has appeared even more problematic since I submitted my piece, thanks to Lahore's closure of the Khyber Pass supply route and the subsequent attacks on Western convoys. A classic case of a weak but indispensable ally having plenty of options not only to squeeze lots of money out of you, but also of jerking you around at will. Still, if the Dutch care about their own security, about continuing the good work they've done in Afghanistan since 2006, and about a successful Obama presidency, they should send the trainers. It is true that Western military presence, "occupation," is a prime motivator for extremists, but now that we're there, it matters how we leave. This summer, the Dutch left Afghanistan in a lousy way; the least they can do is try to pitch in during what promises to be a crucial stage of the Afghanistan saga.

Then there was news to report on the "weird cycling contraptions" front. Last time, I reported on being passed by a regular-looking guy in street clothes on a hybrid kind-of bike, making me look like a big slouch (even though I was riding to work at probably 18-19 m/h on my old Trek, wearing an old team kit, and carrying a back-pack). Had to be an electric bike. I resolved next time to jump on the wheel, even though it would look funny. Well, this week I've had two opportunities. Leaving Amsterdam last Monday there was somebody behind me who, out on the open road by the Amsterdam Rijnkanaal actually came around. Hybrid bike, one saddle bag, backpack, but also dressed in cycling clothes he just went a little too fast given his appearance. Again, a very strong rider (would probably have to be some kind of racer) could move a bike like that at that speed, but they're few and far between, and if they were that kind of rider, they would not be riding to work like that. Of course, the moment he passed me I could see his battery back hanging off the seat tube. He turned out to be going my way for almost ten miles, and for most of that distance I had nice, quiet, and clean pacemaker at a speed somewhere in the low 20s. Just before we went our separate ways I pulled up alongside and asked if he had indeed some electrical assistance. He did. Keeping up wasn't difficult at all, but in Muiden, crossing the big bridge in the center, he ran the light, while I stopped and pressed the button to get the green. Green came quickly, but meanwhile he'd gotten about a 100m gap. It did take some effort to close that again, and it must have looked weird: this "real"cyclist digging deep to get on the wheel of this upright hybrid rider. Yesterday morning I had to make a similar effort to get on the wheel of what may well have been the same guy as the one who prompted my post two weeks ago. The sight of us riding together must have been even weirder. On the way in, riding the nice wide and empty two mile stretch of asphalt near IJburg (visible here toward the left, alongside the green part) suddenly he blew by me again: hybrid bike, street clothes, upright position. It took me a second or two to make up my mind, but then I decided to take a closer look. This was hard, as by then he'd taken a 50m lead. But I got on the wheel, and before the Nescio bridge, my turn off, I was also able to confirm that his bike was a Trek. I didn't get to talk to this guy, but I'm convinced that he too had his electrical device turned on, in part because there was the same, very slight whirring sound you don't hear on regular bikes. But even more important was that this picture really didn't fit. Cyclists looking this way just don't go at these speeds. There's an artist--I'll get the name and a link when I get home tonight--who has these human figures that quickly make you do a double-take because something isn't right. On closer inspection you see that one of several body parts are just a little too big, or small. Watching these guys on their electric bikes come by is a similarly disorienting experience. However, once you're on their wheel, they provide very nice drafting opportunities.

The Proliferation of Weird Cycling Contraptions

A weird experience this morning, riding out of the town of Muiden on my way to work. It was a beautiful morning with virtually no wind, some very light fog here and there, and temperatures that were already very mild. I was moving along just fine in a short sleeve jersey and a vest. Shorts, obviously. I never go hard in the morning; it just doesn't feel right, shortly after getting out of bed and with the whole work day still ahead of you. Still, I think I was doing 18-19 m/h, happily spinning a 39x16 gear when some guy riding a kind of hybrid bike blew by me at maybe 25 m/h. It was the weirdest thing: he was wearing street clothes, sitting pretty straight up, and you could see that his tires weren't the skinniest around. He was pushing, but the elements in the picture just did not fit together. I mean, there are probably people (guys my age or older, like this guy) who could come up with the kind of power to move a bike like that at this speed, but they're very few and far between, and they probably would not be riding to work that way in street clothes. The ensemble did make a considerable amount of noise, which I first attributed to the fat tires. But then I thought: Cancellara!, as in: electric motor! (Sorry man!) And after a brief Google image search I think I've figured out what we had there, this morning. It's the Trek Ride +, or something like it. First I had to get used to these cigar-type vehicles people here use to "ride" to work, and now this. At least in the case of the electric bike you can choose to draft off it, the way you would with a moped or scooter. Come to think of it, it's really good for that because there are no fumes. It will look weird, but just in case he passes me again on the way home, I think I'll jump on his wheel.

Others on Other American Scares and Today

I'm far from the only one who has been reminded of other American scares amid the anti-Muslim and anti-immigrant furor these days. See, for example, George Packer at the New Yorker, who likens today's general public agitation to 1919-1920. The political debate does seem a little unhinged today, if you think about it. Focusing on the intersection of isolationism and war, Peter Beinart sees similarities with both 20th century Red Scares--and there's something to that also. Juan Cole, meanwhile, emphasizes the nativist angle and goes back even futher in U.S. history. Before I get more angry e-mails from people I don't know: I don't necessarily agree with all of these analyses and believe even less that these analogies prove that the U.S. is a rotten country--not free, not essentially tolerant. Least of all do I hate America. I don't have a passport, but put me with those American patriots anyway who get worked up during these "scares" because to them the behavior and ideas on display actually subvert important American ideals. But I'm a historian and happen to believe (call me crazy) that it's helpful to have a historical perspective on things. It can help you see similarities (today's developments as part of larger themes or trends throughout U.S. history) as well as differences. When I teach my "American Scares" seminar again, you can sign up and we'll take a close up look.

Playing with Fire

I just saw another version of my op-ed on the current anti-Muslim scare in the United States. It's in de Gelderlander (in Dutch), and there's one reader comment arguing that this is actually driven by the "authorities" to justify further military involvement in the Middle East and Central Asia. That I don't believe. Not even the Bush administration believed there was anything to be gained by stigmatizing an entire group (Muslims) exactly at a time when it is of vital importance to convince members of the same group all over the world that your policies are aimed at small groups of extremists and that the last thing you or anybody else needs is a global religious war. Of course U.S. policy has displayed plenty of screw-ups (and worse: "Abu Ghraib," "Guantanamo"), and of course the Bush administration cynically employed "9/11" to maintain support for its foreign and domestic policies. But that's still very different from deliberately implicating all Muslims, everywhere, in the crimes of a fanactic minority. The current scare is not spontaneous--specific individuals in the U.S. and elsewhere speak with reckless irresponsibility about Muslims, often unhindered by any real knowledge or direct experience. (I do agree with the commenter that the media often seem all too happy to repeat or abet a lot of the garbage being uttered). But, as witness yesterday's comments by Attorney-General Holder and Secretary of State Clinton, and earlier warnings by General Petraeus, the U.S. government understands full well how we're playing with fire here. To repeat: this intolerance is not just profoundly un-American (this would be bad enough), it can also fatally undermine the efforts by the U.S. and others to build some common ground between the West and the Muslim world. As anger about illegal immigration and Latino immigrants also shows (even though the numbers are actually down), these are anxious times. Absolutely no need to fan the flames. But Western societies have their share of fanatics too, not to mention cynically opportunistic politicians and "opinion leaders."

Fast Women, Beautiful Roads, and Pastry

In Los Alamos in the mid-1990s there was Jennifer, who had no trouble riding with us boys, and whom I could only drop on the climb to the Valle Grande, out of the back gate. On the flats, she'd be more likely to kick my behind. She wasn't around all the time, because she raced most of the national races with the top women in the U.S., for example the week-long Cascade Classic stage race. In Milwaukee, there was Patti, a two-time national champion, who had also raced the Cascade Classic and who on the flat training rides gave as good as she got (while many others were happy just to be passengers) and who always got better as the rides got longer. She, too, would fall behind on the climbs, but both are good examples of lone women holding their own in groups full of guys. The fact that in more than 20 years of group rides, I can only remember a handful of these women also shows how rare they still are. Then two weeks ago, on the Cote de la Redoute, there was the Flemish girl, and last week there was Erica from Valgatara, Valpolicella, the town with the killer gelato. I had trouble keeping up with the former, and over in the Lake Garda area it was no different with the latter. It's not a real surprise, as Erica's time (last May, with snow coming down) on Mt. Ventoux is almost five minutes faster than mine. She has also finished first in several Granfondo races. I got to ride with Erica thanks to an invitation from my friend Michele, who had gotten to know her on the Ventoux expedition and whose riding has taken flight since he started training with her. Last Tuesday we all met near Fumane, outside of Verona. We climbed to Molina, then on to Breonio. The climb to Molina is a good one: pretty challenging, though not too long. Erica fell a little behind, but I don't think she was really trying. That was the thing on every climb: she just rode up, riding smoothly and light-footed, and she wasn't pushing the smallest gears around. The rest of the ride was a friendly up-and-down, eventually back to Valgatara, but you could not help wondering what it would be like to hang on to her wheel on a long, tough climb when the chips are down. It would be relentless, and it would be painful. The trip to Verona-Lake Garda area was a final chance for a few days of scenic, summer riding, and I think I made the most of it. At the end of the ride with Erica, Michele made me ride home to our perch overlooking the lake while he took the car back, which meant doing the Caprino-Lumini climb with 60 miles of up-and-down in my legs in temperatures not seen in Holland in a while. So that first day was a good opening day. The next day, it was just Michele and I, but only to the little town of Spiazzi. We did a good climb on a little back road through Porcino, but then I was on my own, Michele saving himself for the next day. I rode on, behind the tall ridge overlooking Lake Garda, to Cavallo di Novezza, and eventually to the foot of Monte Altissimo. There was enough climbing on that section, including a mile at 19% coming right after a few kilometers of something around 10%. Then there was a long downhill (ten miles or so), all the way to Avio, which is on the Brenner highway. I paralleled that back to Caprino, for a reunion with the climb to Lumini. 65 miles (more or less this route, clock-wise) and it felt like work. Day three saw us reunited with Erica at the ferry across Lake Garda to start our ride of the three lakes: Lago di Valvestino, Lago d'Idro, and Lago di Ledro. Getting off the ferry, we first stopped for cappucchino and cake, then rode a whole bunch of gorgeous roads, to get back to Lake Garda at its northern tip at Riva di Garda (except for that steep downhill on a gravel trail, bypassing the main road into town--an Oscar Swan ghost road if there ever was one. With her mountainbike background, Erica quickly left us far behind there). The last hour, to show that I really live in flat, windy Holland, I dragged the three of us back in one 35k-long pull along the lake to Torri del Benaco. Because I am from Holland and don't get to climb much, I also got to do the 10k climb home to San Zeno by way of Albisano, while the other two got into the car. The long pull had taken it out of me, so even though I was just five miles from getting a century, I was happy to make the turn into the driveway. Happiness remained, also for Michele, to make us choose a 25k coffee ride for the final day: down the hill to Caprino, a three-pastry stop (hazelnut; rice pudding, whipped cream), then back home over the old Caprino-Lumini climb. Perfect, as with everything on this far too short outing.

A New American Scare

That, unfortunately, is the thesis of an op-ed I did last week on what to me appears a sudden escalation in anti-Muslim rhetoric and activity in the United States. You can read a version (in Dutch) over on the website of the Nederlands Dagblad. An inaccuracy or two has slipped through the cracks (for example a mention of the CIA as an institution instrumental in fueling earlier "scares"--I meant the Supreme Court, as in its sanctioning of Japanese-American internment during World War II), but they're minor. In the article I argue that the current anti-Muslim campaign resembles the Red Scares of the 20th century, and also the one driving Japanese-American internment 1942-1945, in that in a tough situation, where the country has suffered set-backs in its relationship with the outside world, certain forces (Justice Department, FBI, certain politicians, media organizations) cause many people to hold a certain group as either responsible for the problem, dangerous, or both. The result is a combination of official action (deportation of anarchist Russian immigrants; locking up citizens of Japanese descent) and free-lancing by individual Americans (anti-mosque activities today). For a long time after 9/11, Americans resisted the temptation to blame any Muslim, anywhere for the actions of a fanatic few. At least, at home they did. Overseas, Abu Ghraib and "Guantanamo" made for a much more complicated picture. But now at home things seem to be getting out of hand too. Earlier "scares" eventually passed, but not without severe damage to individual lives and the thing America really ought to be about, namely living up to its own best ideals. Is this a full-blow witch hunt yet? Maybe not. But it's headed that way, in part because a lot of influential individuals and organizations are acting more than a little irresponsibly. The "Ground Zero Mosque" is more a catalyst than the actual issue. Given the impact of 9/11 and other terrorist acts, we've been in a precarious situation for a while now. Add to that the crisis, and you end up with a lot of people, as there are today, that believe the country is on the wrong track. In such times, it doesn't take too much for things to turn ugly. The planned Islamic cultural center downtown Manhattan is clearly a sensitive issue for many. Even more reason for media organizations and prominent politicians to discuss it rationally and dispassionately. But that seems to be the opposite of what we're seeing right now.

90 Miles and Feeling a Little Old

I have things to say, and ask, about the latest American scare (the "Ground Zero Mosque"), but let me first report on last Saturday, when I did 90 challenging miles in the Ardennes as part of the "Geants des Ardennes". That's geant as in: giant. With four of my Eendracht friends I did the 143K route, which included 15 named climbs. It was my first day in the Eendracht kit (approved, upon my return, by the home front), as it was my first time with the new team in hilly terrain. The last time I had done this kind of distance was in 2007 (the year of my last century), when I'd often get rides over 70 miles long, do hard training rides on a weekly basis, and actually race. Most of that has gone by the wayside, and I think it showed last weekend. It was a warm day, weather I used to thrive in. But two-thirds of the way in cramps started bothering me. I was able to get rid of them by getting out of the saddle (hamstring) or staying seated (quadriceps), and considered myself lucky that front and back never acted up simultaneously. It wasn't horrible, far from it, but after the half-way mark I basically found myself just riding trying to finish this thing comfortably. In the old days, when I was much further from that dreaded milestone birthday than today, I'd get better as these kind of days went on and would only allow people to pass me (especially on the climbs) if they looked like semi-pros. On the last climb Saturday, there were several people riding away from me, and I was just fine with that. How bad was it? Not very, really. I held my own just fine against my new teammates, and then some, and was having a hard time on only three of the fifteen climbs, but there it was the same for just about everybody. We're talking here about the Cote de Somagne (new to me), the Wanneranval (I had been on this hill, but not from this side), and the Cote La Roche aux Faulcons, the very last one (these days also part of Liege-Bastogne-Liege). They were hard work, at least on the 39x26 they were, but at the same time I never wished I had brought a 28. On the other twelve, I just had a blast riding uphill again for a change. I should also mention this young Flemish woman, dressed all in white, who easily held her own with us on the Cote de la Redoute-Est. She actually rode away from me (passing everyone else around) when I had a cramp setting in. Not that no woman should be able to hang with me on a tough climb, it's just that I've rarely had the experience. I caught up with her at the top, and we rode into Sprimont together. It gave me time to realize that she was easily young enough to be my daughter. I told you this post was about me feeling a little old.

Cold War Research and Cycling

The two can go together. Three examples. When I did research for my dissertation, in Berlin in 1996, I rode a rented bike to the archive in Lichterfelde, first from Kreuzberg, where I was staying with friends, later from Spandau. The latter rides were near epic: January in Berlin, and I was on the road around 7:30, riding part of the way through the woods, getting some breakfast 45 minutes in, at a bakery in Zehlendorf (where I'd also pick up some rolls for when I'd get my lunch-time pea soup at the Freie Universitaet, a ten minute ride from the archive). After lunch, you'd look out the window around 2:30 and see it beginning to get dark again. And so the ride "home" to Spandau (cheap room, though!) was also in the dark. In case you wonder, it certainly was cold on those rides. A few years later I worked on a project for which the material was at the U.S. National Archives at College Park, Md. That's only a stone's throw away from Greenbelt Park, where they have training races every Wednesday night. This, conveniently, is also the day the archive closes at five. So on those research trips (during the summer!) I'd drive over from Milwaukee (including stops in Pittsburgh on the way out and back to join PMVC on their weekend rides) with my bike in the trunk. Then, while in D.C., I'd drive over to Greenbelt Park once or twice during the week either to race or to do an hour of loops around the course by myself. The races were the best, of course, but after sitting on your butt the entire day working your way through box after box it wasn't exactly a chore to ride there all alone. The third example comes from last week, when we drove to Bonn so that I could do some work at the Archiv der sozialen Demokratie at the Friedrich Ebert Stiftung. We found a hotel at the foot of the Venusberg (it says "berg," but it's really just a good hill). On the map, there were two roads that looked like good vehicles for an hour to an hour-and-a-half of exercise after a day spent with the files: the Bergstrasse and the Annaberger Strasse. I did them both, and can report that in Pittsburgh, the former would be a candidate for both Danny Chew's Dirty Dozen and Oscar Swan's ever growing list of ghost roads (a pretty steep grade, enough to give my arms a real work-out on the 39x26 while the poor surface forced me to stay seated). The latter proved to be excellent for hill repeats. It is a beautiful road through the woods that is closed to regular car traffic, and it too is quite steep, especially the first part, steep enough for me to reach for my 24 there. The climb is just about a mile long, and if I did my best, I could do it within six minutes. You do that several times in a row, and you really can get a worthwhile workout in a little over one hour. I was going to write next about the interesting stuff I found in all these archives, but I just remember yet another example of Cold War research-related cycling: Abilene, Kansas. Yes sir! Actually, when I spent two weeks there at the Eisenhower Library in the early '90s (1992, I think, staying at the long since disappeared Forester Hotel for under $35.-- a week, across the tracks from the also sorely missed Texas Cafe), I did have to get in the car for the two excellent rides I remember doing there, but it was worth it. On the advice of a friend over in Lawrence, I drove over on a Saturday afternoon to the Tuttle Creek Lake area, the site of a recent state road championship. They were indeed good roads, but what I remember most is just staying clear of a huge charging St. Bernard dog early in my ride on Green Randolph Rd. near Olsburg. (If that section had been uphill, I don't know if I'd be writing this today). The other drive was in the opposite direction, south into the Flint Hills to Council Grove. I had picked this course myself, having once done a race from the Prairie Chicken Capital of the World (Cassoday, but you probably knew that) to this historic town. The road between there and Strong City/Cottonwood Falls may well be my favorite in all of Kansas, and it was no chore at all to do an out-and-back there. The follow-up research for last week's work may well have to take place at Germany's Bundesarchiv in Koblenz, not a bad place for post-research riding, either. I'll keep you posted.

Group Ride!

My notes say that the last one was on June 20, which is far too long. There may be people who thrive, always riding by themselves. It is certainly good to have nothing but your own snout in the wind on a regular basis. But there is definitely a place for riding with others. Not surprisingly, I've had motivation problems the past six weeks (also because a planned riding adventure fell through). Same old flat loops near the home town week after week. Not that they're not pretty or that you can't do stuff on them, but one needs some stimulation, goals, and certainly camraderie beyond the love for the sport to keep things interesting and stay sharp. I do, at least. So last night I went looking for my sort-of Eendracht teammates (they've been nothing but nice since I joined two years ago, but I've had a hard time joining them on a regular basis) who do a pretty good ride every Thursday night at seven. There were only five of us (we found an additional rider half-way through our ride) and I ended up with 52 miles for the night, about 40 of which were with the group. In Holland, you have to negotiate traffic, traffic furniture, narrow bike paths and the like on every ride, but we found some stretches where we could ride a pace much better than any of us would have done on his own, and our average together was somewhere between 21 and 22 m/h. We even included two of what in this part of the world pass for little hills (Soester Engh; Soestduinen). Everyone was able to help at the front, and toward the end we were still motoring through a couple of towns at 24-25 m/h. Nothing dangerous, but you certainly had to pay attention, also because at this hour (going on 9 pm) the sun was hanging pretty low and there were times you could not see a whole lot up ahead (signs already of summer winding down). I got home at 9, a little late for the body to calm down in time for a normal night's sleep. The ride was well worth a slightly restless night, though.

Robert C. Tucker, R.I.P.

The great Stalin scholar died last Thursday, the New York Times reports. His two volumes on the tyrant are masterpieces of research, analysis, and writing. Citations, for example in studies on the run-up to World War II, have not been as numerous recently as they should have been, probably because Tucker emphasizes Stalin's aggressive (reckless, he calls it) side over his nowadays more fashionable caution. The two Tucker volumes take the story up to 1941, and the Times obituary confirms what I had feared for a while now: there won't be a third. Apparently a combination of writers' bloc, declining health, and the great amount of new material that has come out since 1990 caused the project to get bogged down. Maybe George Kennan saw this coming when he wrote Tucker to congratulate him on the publication of the second book and added: you must now complete the final volume! (Don't have the book with the letter handy at the moment). I was rooting for him too, being a confirmed ally in the world of Stalin scholarship. That sounds presumtuous (and it is), but we met once at a conference (the big conference on Stalin and the Cold War at Yale in 1999), and at one point during a group conversation between sessions about Stalin's possible motives in Germany after World War II (the subject of the paper I had submitted for this event), he declared: "well, I'm with van Dijk on this." It was very nice to hear, but not really a surprise, because his work was, and continues to be, the greatest single influence on my interpretation of Stalin's worldview and its importance for policy. It's wonderful to have Tucker's books, but I'm sorry to have to give up on ever reading volume three.
Update: Kennan wrote his letter in August 1994 and printed it in At a Century's Ending: Reflections 1982-1995 (Norton, 1996), 238-244. It is a kind letter, but one in which Kennan does question the particular psychological explanation (self-hatred) Tucker employs to make sense of Stalin's behavior. I could try to summarize it all here, but it's much better if you read it yourself. Btw, in the Washington Post obituary, there is also a link to a 1996 appearance by Tucker on the Charlie Rose program on PBS.

What's the World Coming To?

Just three examples from recent reading: Asia columnist, Banyan, in last week's Economist, as s/he was preparing for another assignment. Much economic development and improvement of people's lives across much of the region. Flip side: greenhouse gases produced by this coal-based growth. And: "[d]evelopment is laying waste to the region’s natural richness. The Chinese miracle is built on a raw, bulldozed landscape of unrelenting horror. In Malaysia, Thailand and the Philippines, once-vast stands of virgin forest are gone. Laos and Myanmar (“Elephints a-pilin’ teak”) are now going the same way. Asia’s sushi fad bodes ill for the bluefin tuna even on the far side of the world." Also because of the piece's conclusion, "political stuntedness is now Asia's biggest problem," one really has to wonder who/what is going to do anything about this dark side of Asia's development. See also Jonathan Mirsky's review of Bill Hayton's Vietnam: The Rising Dragon, in the June 24 issue of the New York Review of Books. "The environment is a deepening disaster. The rivers surrounding Ho Chi Minh City are 'biologically dead,' and the air in Hanoi is poisonous ... Sewage and other waste in both cities are dumped raw into the rivers and landfills and eventually poison the local water supplies ... people unsuccessfully complained about such pollution for years." It then continues: "but now that the urban middle classes are up in arms about smells and tastes, action is slowly being taken." I'm no expert on the rise of environmental protection in the West, but the little I do know suggests that this, pressure from within society, played an important part. In Asia, then, it may in part be a matter of timing: will pressure from within society become significant enough soon enough for meaningful action to have a chance to turn things around? Not that it has worked so well in the West, for example the United States. Last week's Economist also had a nice piece about the thriving rail freight sector there. That freight railroads are doing well should be good news (better carry stuff on trains than on trucks, at least). Of course, "coal is the biggest single cargo," which also brings us to one of the main reasons climate-change legislation got moved off Washington's agenda recently: resistance from coal-producing states. More than enough reason, therefore, to start reading the blog of someone whose concerns about these developments are based on a deep knowledge not only of the politics but also the science behind them.

Leaving Afghanistan

That's what the Netherlands is doing officially today, after a four year military presence in the province of Uruzgan that according to most observers has been fairly successful, on its own merits and compared to the work of other Western forces in the country. If you believe this is already a lost cause (and war), the withdrawal is of course very timely. However, even the Dutch Social-Democratic party, the PvdA, which brought down the government last winter during discussions over a possible extension of the Dutch role in Afghanistan, did not use this argument. Instead, it argued that it was time for someone else to step up, that the Dutch had done more than their fair share. Sincere or not, they were thanked by a Taliban spokesman (no need to use "spokesperson" here), who in a rare interview with de Volkskrant last week called the PvdA decision "one of the most important decisions ever made for the Dutch government and people." There are many angles to this issue, and it is of course possible that the Western effort to stabilize Afghanistan will ultimately prove to have been in vain. What continues to bother me, however, is that this course of events was not inevitable. The withdrawal we're witnessing today is one of choice, not necessity. There was no popular groundswell against the Afghanistan mission among the Dutch public, no pressure from the military to relieve the strain on its resources (on the contrary, one might say). The choice was to go it alone, for selfish, domestic political reasons, and alliance interests be damned. The Hague pulled the plug right at the time a new U.S. president (one we profess to like and support over here) had begun to implement his own Afghanistan strategy (as opposed to the one of his unpopular predecessor) and had asked allies for support. It is some consolation that as of right now, it doesn't appear likely that last week's Taliban spokesman will get his wish, namely "that the PvdA will play a leading role in a new Dutch government."

That Was One Long, Unexplained Hiatus

The best explanation I can give is that in late May things just got a little too busy (grading, student meetings, thesis stuff, mostly) really to formulate coherent things to say. So no, the Froome Watch did not wear me out. Right around the time I stopped posting the Floyd Landis accusations came out, and that story continues to be covered by many (see, for example, Joe Papp's blog). As a historian, I'd be very interested in seeing the detailed diaries Landis reportedly has kept, but I guess Jeff Novitzky gets to read them first. As I watched him ride in this year's Tour de France, especially during the final week, I had to think that Armstrong may have relished those final hours in the peloton, knowing, as I'm sure he does, that with the Federal probe life after the cycling career is not going to be a lot of fun. Not at all the way he imagined it only a couple of months ago. (By the way, I think he rode more than a little courageously during that death march to Pau). What else was happening two months ago? There was a new U.S. National Security Strategy, which I discussed in an op-ed for the GPD papers here in the Netherlands, arguing that given the emphasis on national renewal as a basis for U.S. foreign policy, this document truly is a product of its time. This is not your Cold War U.S. of A. anymore, although in its aspirations, the Obama administration still bears a strong resemblance (for which we should be grateful). Obama was also trying to get his financial sector reforms through Congress, and I wrote about that in June. I compared the president to both Reagan and Roosevelt, reformers both who inherited a tough economic situation and whose stature as influential leaders only began to take hold later in their presidencies, in part because economically things began to pick up then. In spite of his legislative successes, Obama will probably have to wait for such an economic upswing. There is more to look back on, and there are issues in the news today (really!). Eventually, there may also be something worthy of note in my own riding. In fact, I'll start looking for that right after I click "publish post."

Froome Watch, P.S.

Chris's tweet last night: "That was as far as these legs were willing to go this Giro... I won't say it was a pleasure but for sure one of a kind!!" And this morning "Woke up to some very entertaining messages this morning. Cheers guys :) For the real story check out teamsky.com." It had to be something, and it was knee trouble. He'll be back.

End of the Froome Watch

And now I'm worried the lack of posts the past week has something to do with it. Chris did not finish today's monster stage in the Giro, so with just two more stages to go in this very tough go around, after having come all this way and dealt with so much weather, race, and terrain related mayhem, it's curtains for him. No tweet yet, so no explanation from the man himself as of now. Not that we really need one. I mean, anyone who has followed this race will tip his hat to someone who can get this far in a death march like this. But I would not be surprised if he got out today because of some medical reason. After all, last weekend he was more than holding his own and seeing the humor of the horrendous schedule of the race. Here's his tweet from Friday the 21st: "39 hours of racing these last 7 days. One way to get some solid training in before we hit the big climbs coming up...". Then on Sunday the 23rd, the day the peloton had to climb the near ludicrous Zoncolan: "I would almost recommend riding up here for the view. Almost...". And after a very decent job (39th) in the only slightly less crazy time trial to the Plan de Corones last Tuesday, there was this message: "Now for the cable car ride down." Why haven't there been any Froome Watch installments since last week, in spite of all the excitement? It's for the same reason I haven't watched any of the stages live on tv in more than a week. There was work, there were the rides to and from work, and last weekend there was also a little outing in search for the first hilly miles since spring training in Tuscany, last March. While I was leaving Chris and the fans of the Froome Watch to their own devices, I managed to log 268 miles of my own the past seven days. All I can say is I'm sorry.

Froome Watch, VIII

I'm about the last one to complain about work, but it can get in the way of other things you're interested in doing. Yesterday's stage in the Giro would have been fun to watch because it turned things upside down in the overall standings. Chris apparently did not play a major role. He was in the last bus, which came in past the 10% limit but which was granted an extra 2% of the winner's time, or about eight minutes, to make it in. Perhaps the team planned it that way (just hold your peace and save some strength in that last group) because with team leader Bradley Wiggins in the large escape group, Team Sky suddenly is back in contention for the overall, and being a decent climber, Chris may be able to help his leader in the mountains next week. I didn't watch today's stage either, but it made Chris happy, as witness his tweet after the race: "Great day in the sun with the guys today- actually the best so far this Giro...".

Froome Watch, VII

They continue to be eventful stages for Chris Froome and the other Giro riders. Lots of rain and flooded roads yesterday, and today and tomorrow two long stages. Three weeks of racing every day in these hectic and difficult conditions is a long time, and the worst may yet be to come. Before the race started, ten days ago in Amsterdam, everyone talked about how difficult the final week was going to be, thanks to a series of mountain stages. Few expected the first half of this event to be as hard as it turned out to be. Chris's tweet this morning gives an indication on what it looks like from inside the peloton: "230km for today's stage 10 and blue skies for the first time this #giro. Nearly half way. 262km tomorrow". Nearly half way, that's both good and bad news, I think. It didn't keep Chris and his teammates to spend long kilometers at the front of the peloton and provide other services to give their sprinter a chance at the end of the day.

Iran, NATO, and the Role of the West

I wanted to write, of course, about the apparent deal that Turkey and Brazil were able to strike over Iran's nuclear program today, a deal that has eluded the Western powers led by the United States. It is a good way to start pondering how international politics is changing. Another way to get at this is NATO's new strategic concept, a first draft of which was presented to NATO's secretary general today. NATO, chair of the drafting committee Madeleine Albright said, is a regional organization first, and it is not a global policeman. This points in the same direction as the Iran news, namely that the "West" such as it is (think also of the EU's current crisis) is no longer what it used to be in the world. But I just saw Dan Drezner's latest post on his blog, and it articulates just about everything I was going to say about it. So why don't you read that. In the meantime, I'll get ready for the briefing about the NATO paper by the vice-chair of the drafting committee, Dutchman Jeroen van der Veer, this Friday in The Hague-- so that I can report on it all here, of course.

Froome Watch, VI

Yes indeed, I'm following the Giro d'Italia. I'd pay attention anyway, but I've also met a rider, Chris Froome of the Sky Team, and now I have a little stake in the proceedings. So after a decent bit of work of my own this morning, what do I see when I turn on my television? It's number 175 doing his part (and then some) in a 17-man breakaway on the way to Terminillo. When the break hit the final climb of the day, it broke into pieces, and Chris wasn't among the leaders anymore. But he still managed to finish a little ahead of the likes of Pozzato and also hold off the bus. I think we'll see more of him before this race is over.

Froome Watch, V

Some stage today, not only because of the rain, but also, especially, because of the gravel roads (turned into muddy paths) in the final 30 kilometers. It was Tuscany, and it was pretty, but above all it was filthy and cold. No tweet yet from Chris, the Team Sky rider I met a week ago following his opening time trial in Amsterdam, who is probably still busy getting clean. He finished in a big bus, broken up into several parts, coming in between 24 and 25 minutes behind the winner. Not sure if days like this make the life of a professional cyclist exhilarating or excruciating. If it was just a group ride, it would probably be a great memory (though not necessarily pleasant to do), but this is work--a race, where ultimately only the result counts. In that sense, most guys in the pack probably would rather forget today's stage. We'll soon find out through the great Twitter machine.

More Afghanistan Stuff

Another difference between the U.S. and Diem era of the late '50s and early '60s and the U.S. and Karzai era today: an apparently straightforward military leader. General McCrystal, the U.S. commander for Afghanistan, talked about "progress" yesterday, but he added that as for now, nobody is winning. He made other candid statements in an interview well worth watching in its entirety.

Froome Watch, IV

The world is going so crazy over the Chris Froome watch that even the man himself has now taken note. No close watching yesterday or today, because I was on some longer rides myself that got me to the tv after the daily Giro broadcast ended. Chris lost a little time both days, but a lot less than many others, so now he's climbed in the overall standings. Watch for him to do more of that as the hillier stages develop. On Twitter, Chris has linked to the website of David Kinjah, who through his Safari Simbaz organization seeks to promote competitive cycling in Kenya, especially among kids. It's where Chris got his start (as a mountainbiker, before switching to the road after moving to South Africa). Tomorrow's stage is a long one, and it should be pretty: Tuscany.

Afghanistan Stuff

The Obama administration's relationship with the Karzai regime in Kabul continues to resemble Ike's and JFK's relationship with South Vietnam's Ngo Dhin Diem in the late 1950s and early 1960s, especially today. We know he's no good (corrupt, stubborn, impopular, generally ineffective), but don't see an alternative that's better in the circumstances. Having supported the man and said many nice things about him (primarily under Obama's predecessor, but still), it would damage our own credibility suddenly to declare our dependence on him a mistake. There is one difference, however: negotiations with the enemy, the subject of today's talks at the White House. In 1963, when there were signs that the Diem regime might be open to talks with the communist regime in Hanoi, it may have contributed to the Kennedy administration's willingness to have Diem replaced (what would become the November coup, in which Diem and his brother Nhu--the government's designated point person for contacts with the communists--were killed). Today, the discussion is not about whether talks should be conducted with certain Taliban, but how. They're different situations, but at least today we're recognizing that ultimately all the parties in Afghanistan are Afghans, and that they'll have to work things out together long after Western troops stop playing a major role in their country.
In the Netherlands there have been developments too, as explained last week by The Holland Bureau. The PvdA, the social democrats, now would be willing to support a new Dutch mission in Afghanistan, as long as the emphasis is on police (training) work. The social democrats, of course, were the ones who brought down the government earlier this year because, eh, well that depends on who you talk to. Over here, we've called it cynical, shortsighted, and selfish political opportunism, but more nuanced interpretations can be found also. In any case, only last month the party voted against a proposal by the Greens and the centrist D'66 to consider sending a police mission, on the grounds that so many military might be needed to protect these police people, that the end-result would be a military mission anyway. It was the party's foreign policy spokesman, Martijn van Dam (he of the "let's try unilateral nuclear disarmament again, just like in the 1980s!" idea) setting the tone here. But in response more serious people in the party have begun to weigh in. As Giles over at The Holland Bureau reported, new party leader Job Cohen has recently left the police mission option on the table. And yesterday in an interview in the Volkskrant (no link--only for subscribers) former party leader Ed van Thijn openly criticized the party's pulling the plug on the government last February over Afghanistan. Van Thijn does not, shall we say, find it credible to have been so rigid about the 2007 resolution to end the mission in 2010. There has come a new U.S. president, I'm paraphrasing his words, with a new strategy, and what is the meaning of all this professed support for Obama, what kind of ally this it make us, if you then just ignore all that and leave? Good question.

Froome Watch, III

I'm watching the team time trial, and just saw Chris Froome hanging on for dear life after about ten miles, not pulling through. The next time they showed the team, they were with only seven (one rider of the nine having fallen behind due to a flat early on), so perhaps he got dropped. The Flemish commentators have noted that the team had the fastest split at the half-way mark. But this may have been without my new friend.
Update: Chris Froome's team, Team Sky, finished second in today's team time trial, and it looks they could live with that. Here's Froome's tweet: "Running 2nd after an effort like that is just not as rewarding as it should be. Spirits high though. 2morrow a new day, a new opportunity!" It wasn't a very spectacular day, but if you looked at the faces of the riders, especially in the final kilometer, you realized how tough a team time trial is. Same with watching guys taking their place at the rear of the rotation after a turn at the front: that is a matter of centimeters, and if you're just a little late, you're gapped and you have to bring all hands on deck just to stay in contact. Problem is, those hands are on deck from mile one, so it can get desperate pretty quickly. In other words, there are still many worthwhile aspects to a day like this that can justify an hour or two in front of the television.

Froome Watch, II

Another hectic stage, which I was only able to watch intermittently on my computer. I never saw Chris, but it looks like he was a victim of the wind and the crashes. Not that he was the only one. He finished in the biggest group of the day, in the company of Petacchi and Pozzato, among many others, about eight minutes behind the winner of the day. As of almost 11pm, Chris hasn't twittered yet. I'm sure that's at least partly because right after the race, everyone had to get on planes to make the move to Italy, where the Giro belongs.
Update: Tweet from the rest day: "As great as the atmosphere was in Holland with such enthusiastic and friendly people, it's a relief to be back in Italy!" And who can blame him after the last two days?

Froome Watch, I

The Giro riders just passed through our town, Nederhorst den Berg, less than ten minutes ago. They were preceded by a four or five man breakaway, which meant that Christopher Froome's Team Sky had to set the pace, in order to defend team leader Bradley Wiggins' pink jersey. And who was at the very head of the peloton, doing his job? Yes indeed. Last night I sent him a warning over Twitter about the bumpy section of road right in front of our house, and it looks he took it to heart.
Update: Not really news for those who watched the stage into Utrecht, but here's Chris's Tweet after finishing 181st, 4.19 minutes behind the winner:
"That was absolute carnage!! Literally bodies EVERYWHERE"
Indeed, lots of ugly crashes. One of these, near the end, put Chris's leader, Wiggins, half a minute behind the lead pack, meaning that the hard work the team did at the head of the peloton all day to defend the pink jersey was for nothing.

Il Grande Giro

It has started, this afternoon here in Amsterdam, and I was a part of it--a little. It started this morning at our local bakery, which had prepared special pink Giro d'Italia strawberry cakes in honor of the race, which passes through here early in the second stage on Sunday. I got the last one. Then I rode over to Amsterdam to watch some of the prologue action and hopefully get on camera somewhere in my IS Corp kit so that my friends over in Milwaukee could see me. It was hard to find tv cameras, just like it was hard to find a good spot from where to watch the riders. While it was possible to find room along the guardrail, the crowds were easily big enough to make the good spots inaccessible, certainly by bike. So I rode alongside the course for a little ways, then checked out the start area on the Museum square. It was easy to get close to riders there, as the teams' warm-up areas were right alongside the public walking areas. No way could I get on camera near the start. What I should have done, I realized after watching the last twenty minutes of this prologue back home on t.v., was first to watch a little t.v. at home to see where the cameras were pointed, then ride to the city and find those spots. Oh well, I think I got something better in the end, after also checking out the finishing area, near the old Olympic stadium. It was crowded there too, although I did catch a glimpse of two-time winner Gilberto Simoni going through the final turn. But when I started back, there was a Team Sky rider going the same way, and we ended up riding back to the start area together. It was Chris Froome (I needed to ask) who, he said, had taken it easy on purpose. We got on the topic of the risks of the course as we maneuvered over some not entirely dry and treacherous tram rails. He said these tracks had been covered, mercifully, but that he had just taken a spill in the prologue of the Tour of Romandie due to risk-taking, and once was enough. (His cautious ride today was good for 138th place, 51 seconds out of first place, but one second ahead of former winner Damiano Cunego). We then, thanks to me, got on the subject of Matthew Busche, a member of the Radio Shack team (not here) who only a year ago was still on my old team, IS Corp, winning the Wisconsin state road race (a race I used to do until two years ago, though not in the elite category). Froome didn't know him but then talked about how in his own first season in Europe, on the Barloworld team, he got selected to do a lot of big races, including even the Tour de France. Working for Mauricio Soler he even managed to finish, although now he would not recommend introducing young guys to the peloton in this way. When I asked if we would see Soler again, he said he thought so, because his current team, Caisse d'Epargne, seems to be treating him pretty well. In his first year Froome did Paris-Roubaix too, but dropped out due to a mechanical with 50K to go (that might actually have been this year, I forget). He's in this Giro to help his leader, Bradley Wiggins, who is probably quietly hoping to contend for the overall victory. Looks like he's got his work cut out for him. The last thing we talked about was Froome's teammate, Ian Stannard, who isn't on the team for this race. I just had to tell him how awed I was by Stannard's performance in this year's so-called spring classic, Brussels-Kuurne-Brussels, where the riders, as became especially clear from Stannard's post-race interview on Flemish television, were, in Danny Chew's phrase, "brutally raped by the weather." Froome remembered that, and confirmed that Stannard had needed some time fully to recover. And with that, we had reached the Museum square, the location of the Team Sky team bus. I wished him luck as he turned off, promising to watch him closely the coming three weeks. (I should have warned him about the atrocious stretch of road right in front of our house in Nederhorst den Berg, which the peloton will hit during the first hour of tomorrow's second stage, but we ran out of time). As I'll be following the race closely on Flemish tv, I'll start a Froome watch here, starting tomorrow. Among other things, this will be the perfect excuse to tune in every day. Now all I've left to consider is whether to get on Twitter, so that I can follow Froome's tweets.

Security in the 21st Century

Without my knowing anything about it, there has occurred an international on-line "Security Jam" where experts from a number of organizations brainstormed (or maybe it was a bull session) about the new global security landscape. New York Times article here. Heavily leaning on Western experts, most of the focus was on NATO-EU collaboration. There appear to be fewer specifics on how other large countries such as Russia, China, India, and Brazil (all with a limited commitment to multilateralism) might approach this issue or Western leadership. Speaking of leadership, especially of the political kind, as in: the ability to take effective decisions at the appropriate time (relevant in light of EU dithering during the Greek financial crisis, an economic security threat if there ever was one), the report is remarkably quiet on that. Still, this seems to be a weakness of multilateral organizations such as NATO and the EU, to say nothing of the UN. On the one hand, they're fine mechanisms for consultation and common planning for long-term problems; whether they're good for handling acute crises unfortunately remains to be seen. Perhaps they can be, but it appears that for these organizations to be effective here, it would require political leaders to stand up, put their political capital on the table, and make some tough calls. The report of the Jam can be downloaded here.