It's America--It's About the Government

I just sent in an op-ed on the Arizona immigration law, the "birther" bill passed by the Arizona House at the same time, and the nature of the popular resistance against the Obama administration (Tea Party movement and such). It's complicated (the links aren't always direct, if they exist at all), but the president's problem is deeper than a failure to explain his policies to the American people, as witness not just the administration's modest poll numbers, but also the poll showing Americans' faith in government near an all-time low. Instead, Obama's opponents believe there to be rather fundamental political differences between themselves and the administration, mostly about the proper role of government. They want a smaller, more frugal government; Obama rather emphasizes everything the government ought to do. A better public relations strategy will only get you so far in a situation like this. More important are results that prove your critics wrong, like an economic recovery with jobs. That may bring some of the moderate critics around enough for Democratic losses in November to remain limited. I will link to the piece once I see it on-line somwhere.

Changing Gears

I should perhaps write about the alleged Gates memo about the lack of a U.S. Iran policy, because that would give me an opportunity to report on my own op-ed late last month on U.S.-Israeli relations which I conclude by wondering if the Obama administration actually has a policy for the Israeli-Palestinian conflict (the "peace process" not being a very credible phenomenon lately). And maybe I will soon, although I also have things to say about this piece in the St. Petersburg Times by Dmitri Trenin. If you let things slide for a while, they tend to pile up (if that's a metaphor that makes sense). For example, I discovered the blog of a colleague, the Holland Bureau, which is well worth reading. The author has put me on his blog roll, underlining that it is high time for me to figure out how to add one of those rolls to this blog. And I haven't said anything yet about my lecture on Abraham Lincoln and the Civil War, last week at an Amsterdam bookstore, even though that assignment shares a large part of the responsibility for my recent silence. So many issues, so little time (today again also). So I'll quickly tell the story of how my derailler fell off my commuter, last night on the way home. This had never happend to me before, on any bike. It led to another first, namely a phone call to arrange a pick-up and a ride home. Perhaps it was time. Actually, having seen the thread, or lack thereof, in the derailler hanger, I know for a fact it was time for that thing to fall out. I've had the greenish-yellowish Trek 2300 since 1994, and for the first seven years it was my main bike, the one I raced and trained on. Then it became my winter bike, and in recent years it has served as a commuter. In Milwaukee I rode it to the Pettit National Ice Center (and once or twice to waterpolo practice at the Schroeder YMCA in Brown Deer), in Holland I've used it to get back and forth a couple of times a week year-round between Nederhorst den Berg and Amsterdam. Thirteen miles into the ride home yesterday, on the Keverdijk, I was suddenly pushing through air, and I suppose I was lucky that the device did not get caught in my spokes before I could stop. I think there's a way to fix it. Otherwise, my brother has saved the Koga Myata Roadwinner I bought in 1986 or '87. It still runs. If that turned out not to be practical, the dream scenario kicks in: the Klein becomes the year-round commuter, the Colnago becomes the general back-up bike, and at the top of the food chain, we'll put something new, something fast, something light (something expensive).

NATO Will Likely Be Fine

That was my overall impression last week, at the end of my day at the alliance's Brussels headquarters. The Public Diplomacy Division treated our little delegation of scholars very well (my own tax Euros at work), most of all by introducing us to a series of significant and approachable NATO officials, from the Netherlands and elsewhere. But let's not forget the 1GB NATO flash drive that was waiting for each of us at the conference table, or the NATO ballpoint that doubles as a flasher--in NATO-blue light. I'm not quite sure what I was really expecting from the visit, even though we received the agenda ahead of time. The chance for boilerplate presentations and stock answers is always there, after all. However, in the course of the visit I was increasingly pleased with the level of discussion, even though on no issue (be they the future orientation of the alliance, relations with Russia, or the new strategic concept) did anyone have clear, unambiguous answers. But that, of course, was why it all worked, why the whole thing was encouraging: today's world, and this growing alliance of currently 28 different members, does not allow for many clear, unambiguous answers. You do need an overall idea of what's going on and where you'd like to go--a strategy; a process by which you can reach workable approaches to problems; and you have to have intelligent people--honest about the inevitable problems, conflicts, and failure--committed to make things work. If our visit is any guidance, the alliance does not lack the latter (perhaps the most important element); NATO's identity seems to embody a cumbersome but inevitable and generally productive consensus-seeking process; and by the end of the year there may well be a new strategic concept that does justice to both the way the alliance has been changing recently and an international environment that has changed significantly, not just since the end of the Cold War, but since the late 1990s. Downsides to the visit? Well, Powerpoint presentations (inevitable, we were told, when soldiers talk) take the life out of meetings, and it would have been nice also to meet an American, the U.S. being in a league of its own in NATO. Oh, and nobody remembered my contribution from the early 1980s to our victory in the Cold War. That sucked.

NATO and Me

The last time I was with NATO was in 1984. A student at Amsterdam, I was called up for a refresher/mobilization exercise to see if I could still handle the early 1960s gasoline truck I had learned to drive during my year of military service in 1982. When I got the call-up, that morning in 1984, I had to drop everything I was doing, get my gear (which I had brought home with me after completing my year of training), and head over to the meeting point near the city of Eindhoven, because we were pretending there was an international crisis and our unit had to prepare its vehicles and head East to meeting invading Warsaw Pact forces. It was like my year as a conscript: lots of waiting, lots of lame but adequate jokes, very mediocre food, and some driving around. The really good part was that lots of guys I had served with in 1982 got called up too, so it was a bit like a reunion. The bad part was that after arriving we basically had to go two nights without sleep before heading out into early morning rush hour traffic at 20 m/h. That was really dangerous, because there was no way you could keep your eyes open, even though you were fully aware of the situation. I remember slapping myself non-stop, sticking my head out the window, screaming at the top of my lungs, and still having my eyes close on me. At least one truck drove off the road, into a tree. I was really upset, because I was driving around with about 6,000 liters of gasoline on my back, surrounded by regular traffic going two or three times my speed. But other than that, it's a great memory. The memories of 1982 are almost all positive also, although at the time I would not have predicted this. Tomorrow, I'll be going back, but I doubt if it will be as eventful. As a guest of the Dutch Atlantic Commission I'll be part of a group of Dutch academics visiting NATO headquarters outside Brussels for a series of meetings with alliance officials about a variety of current NATO matters (for example the new strategic concept). It should still be pretty interesting, even though there are no former army buddies on the list of participants. If any of them reads this, maybe it's time for another reunion?

Big Day

A second cycling post in a row, but today happens only once a year: first day in shorts--yesssir! We got our first snow before Christmas, and since that time it's been miserable (certainly for these parts), with frequent snow and other wintry precipitation. Just last Monday I rode home, start to finish, in a cold rain that made me cranky all evening (from fatigue). Tuesday was better, and yesterday I cleaned my commuter (the very old 1992 Trek 2300) and my winter bike (the good old 2001 Klein) outside, without wearing a coat. It was a lot of work, even for a half-ass job. This morning at 8:30 it was chilly, but I was fine in my summer shoes, two long-sleeve layers and a vest, and no gloves. Tights still, of course. During the day it really warmed up. Lots of people in Amsterdam were sitting outside by the middle of the day, and the 60 or so degrees felt otherworldly. So there I went, around 5:30: shorts and very pale-looking legs. But pretty smooth. The shaving job of two weeks ago still made a difference. It was so mild that my two long-sleeve layers on top actually felt too warm. It was my third day back-and-forth this week, and this on top of a very good Saturday ride with the Eendracht boys (59 cold and windy miles) and my first 200 mile week of the year thanks to the Tuscany trip. So I wasn't exactly flying, but I did ride home the long way, and I certainly enjoyed myself.

Under Tuscan Skies

PMCV (Pittsburgh Masters Velo Club) Europe traveled to Tuscany on March 6 for four days of spring training. Amid many last-minute work-related activities on Thrusday, March 4, the Dutch department spent half an hour shaving his legs in anticipation of the opportunity, surely to present itself, to do a ride or two in shorts. PMVC Holland and PMVC Italy celebrated the launch of their adventure the next evening, at their favorite pizza restaurant in Verona. Before the drive to Tuscany on Saturday, there was time for an easy warm-up ride to the resort town of Bardolino on Lake Garda. The riders, if they say so themselves, looked sharp and relaxed all at once on their Nikor machines expertly tuned by friend and mechanic Carlo. It was a sunny but cool Saturday morning, so no shorts. There was time for a quick coffee in Bardolino where, just having passed a frozen puddle on the way into town, we wisely decided against joining the half dozen cyclists outside on the patio by the marina. Neither did we follow the example of several women (Dutch, according to Michele) whom we encountered downtown holding big scoops of gelato. Early that evening we joined a few dozen Verona cyclists at a resort outside of the Tuscan town of San Vincenzo (south of Livorno, north of Follonica) for the first of a series of adequate, but for San Vero Milis veterans wholly unremarkable, meals. Sunday it was cool and sunny again, definitely not shorts weather. Full gloves at the start, plus two layers of long-sleeves under a vest. A nice up-and-down 68 miler, most of it together with three members of the Grezzana team (from a Verona suburb). After the five of us separated ourselves from the larger group of Masters riders of various levels, we easily fell into a pace line rotation--my first of the season. It is always a wonderful feeling to do your first pace line of the year, it makes you feel like a cyclist again the way no amount of solo training miles can do. Part of the way we rode towards the riders of the Granfondo Cecina, which we could have joined ourselves but given the limited amount of training so far this year wisely skipped. The afternoon, after lunch, was spent on intellectual activity in the hotel room. Social activity not encouraged. Urged on by Michele, I did go for a walk on the beach, in sight of Elba island and a setting sun. A good thing I went then, because the weather the following days made the beach a virtual no-go area. On Monday it became clear definitively that the legs had been shaved for nothing. That day we did another 68 miler, quite windy and quite cool again, as part of a larger group in which a major rivalry developed (we imagined) between the Liquigas riders (Big Liquigas and Little Liquigas) on the one hand, and Grezzana supplemented by PMVC on the other. We kicked their behinds, truth be told, in spite of a missed turn by me (corrected in a fortuitously available driveway). In the afternoon we drove to a grey, cold, and windy Follonica, where I did get some gelato and also bought a pair of Whistle cycling socks (in honor of Joe Papp, of the long-defunct Partisan Whistle Granfondo team). Tuesday we woke up to ... snow and gale force winds. Nobody rode that day. Instead, there was a drive into town, where it was empty of people and only 2 degrees Celsius, lots of intellectual activity, and a visit to the sauna to break up the long stretch between lunch and dinner. This was the one occasion where I could show off my shaved legs, but I don't think anyone noticed. Wednesday was only marginally better, but at least it was dry at the 9am departure time. Supplemented by several new, and stronger, Grezzana riders, we went out toward Bolgheri, of the famous Viale dei Cipressi Bolgheri. One of the new Grezzana guys, we referred to him as "the big guy," set a good rid-out pace, and we never really slowed down after that, in spite of the rapidly worsening conditions. The ride became near-epic, even though it was only 33 miles long. Wind, wet roads, and a cold drizzle contributed to that, together with the pace, our soaked and near-freezing state toward the end, and last but not least the snow on the streets in the village of Bolgheri. I could not follow all the discussions in the group, but I think finding snow at this only slightly elevated site led to the decision to make this a quick out-and-back hammerfest (a hammerfest was obligatory just to stay warm), with a quick coffee stop in the middle. It would have been foolish not to stop at the excellent coffee house. Michele carried the PMVC computer, so he can add the speeds at various points, but this last ride certainly felt like the real thing, and we both agreed that together with the other outings, it made us better. Mission accomplished, therefore, although the wait for spring continues.

Barack Baines Obama

Did an op-ed this week about where health care reform is headed after Obama's summit with the Republicans. First I take the Economist to task for that one-sided editorial ten days ago (Washington isn't broken, it's the politicians, especially Obama; with the implication that "if only" the president had reached out to Republicans, there could have been a lot more progress--gimme a break), then I essentially argue that Obama needs to emulate Lyndon Johnson as much as he can if he wants a health care reform bill passed this spring. Get on the phone and flatter, cajole, intimidate, and bribe to assemble the required number of votes. I'd write more, but I'm packing for a little spring training in Tuscany. (It sounds casual, but it will be my first time--there will be a report in a week or so).