Monday, July 4, 2016

Post Brexit European Unity?

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The Real DC Subway Map


assets3.thrillist.com; via MF/RB on Facebook

The center sags, America groans - Note for a discussion, "E Pluribus Unum? What Keeps the United States United"


washingtonpost.com



  

On this Fourth of July, Americans are deeply disillusioned with politics and government. A Pew poll late last year found that only 19 percent of people trust the government all or most of the time. It was not always so. In 1964, fully 77 percent of Americans answered the question positively. Disenchantment extends to Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump, their parties’ presumptive nominees. Both have “unfavorable” ratings exceeding 50 percent, reports RealClearPolitics. For millions of Americans, the election is a choice between evils.
Politics and government seem broken. There is a palpable sense of betrayal. Voters are said to be angry. The sour climate suggests people believe the country isn’t living up to its potential or, worse, the potential is declining. Despite many proposals from the presidential candidates, there is no real consensus about what to do. The contest for the White House is, so far, more about character than ideas.
The onset of this disillusion is usually attributed, in the 1960s and ’70s, to the war in Vietnam, Watergate and double-digit inflation. All of these discredited national leaders. More recently, broad economic and social forces are blamed. A partial list would include: income inequality; globalization — trade and its impact on jobs and wages; resentment of “elites” in both parties; immigration and its alleged threat to traditional American values.
There is something to this standard indictment. No doubt, these economic discontents, amplified by the hangover from the Great Recession, have fueled fears that the country is dangerously adrift. Indeed, they may have spawned a populist uprising on a global scale. Witness Brexit — Britain’s vote to leave the European Union. Still, this widespread view of the United States’ political predicament is incomplete.
What’s omitted is the capacity of government and the political system to deal with new conflicts. Remember: Politics is about conflict. If everyone agreed on everything, we wouldn’t need politics or democracy. A “dictatorship of experts” would implement a universally accepted agenda. Obviously, this is not the case. The United States is awash in new conflicts that the political system has struggled to contain. 
To see what has happened, go back to 1960. American society was then highly compartmentalized. Men and women had rigid gender roles: men as breadwinners, women as homemakers. African Americans were restricted by legal segregation (the South) and informal segregation (almost everywhere else). Homosexuality was not discussed. There was little environmental regulation. Immigration was not an issue. The federal government, despite the creation of Social Security (1935) and the Interstate Highway program (1956), was still dominated by defense. In 1960, it was 52 percent of government spending.
Although mostly undesirable, these compartments had one virtue: They suppressed conflict. Once the compartments began crumbling, conflicts multiplied. Women took paying jobs by the millions. Racial segregation was outlawed. Gay rights were established. Environmental regulation exploded. Immigration, legal and illegal, increased. Social spending soared; by 2015, defense was only 16 percent of the federal budget. The need was to come to grips with the resulting conflicts.
The trouble is that the country was less capable of dealing with them, because — for decades — we systematically weakened the political parties, a crucial mediating institution, writes Jonathan Rauch in a powerful essay in the Atlantic . The stalemates on the budget, immigration and global warming exemplify the political deadlock. 
Political leaders have less power “than ever before” to reward and protect party loyalists “who take a tough congressional vote . . . or who dare cross single-issue voters and interests,” writes Rauch. Once, those powers were considerable. Parties selected candidates for office and funded their campaigns. In Congress, committee chairmen could fashion controversial legislation behind closed doors.
All these powers have been curbed. Candidates nominate themselves by running in primaries; they become free agents. Contributions to candidates and parties are limited by law; this has inspired “independent” groups, outside the candidates’ and parties’ direct control, that provide substantial campaign funding. Committee meetings must generally be open. 
The new political system favors ideological extremes. “Inside their gerrymandered districts,” Rauch argues, “incumbents are insulated from general-election challenges that might pull them toward the political center, but they are perpetually vulnerable to primary challenges from extremists who pull them toward the fringes.” Ideological “purity” trumps pragmatism. Technology reinforces the bias. In the Web and cable-news era, politicians constantly need to reassure their constituents that they haven’t sold out.
On this Fourth of July, American politics seem stuck. Too many conflicts collide with too little conciliation. Ironically, many “reforms” that aim to make the political system more accountable and responsive have had the opposite effect. There are centrist proposals to deal with our problems that would probably help and seem to enjoy majority support. But they’re doomed by opposition from the political extremes. The center sags and paralysis prevails.

Celebrating the nation that can’t stay still - Note for a discussion, "E Pluribus Unum? What Keeps the United States United"


washingtonpost.com


 Opinion writer  

It is the birthright of all Americans to be patriotic in their own way, something worth remembering at a moment of great political division. Instead of challenging each other’s love of country, we should accept that deep affection can take different forms.
There is, of course, the option of setting politics aside altogether on the Fourth of July. Anyone who loves baseball, hot dogs, barbecues, fireworks and beaches as much as I do has no problem with that. Still, I’m not a fan of papering over our disagreements. It is far better to face and discuss them with at least a degree of mutual respect.
When it comes to the varieties of patriotism, I’d make the case that some of us look more toward the past and others to the future. Some Americans speak of our nation’s manifest virtues as rooted in old values nurtured by a deposit of ideas that we must preserve against all challengers. Others focus on our country’s proven capacity for self-correction and change.
As a result, one stream of reverence for our founders flows from a belief that they have set down timeless truths. The alternative view lifts them up as political and intellectual adventurers willing to break with old systems and accepted ways of thinking.
These are broad categories, and many citizens are no doubt drawn simultaneously to aspects of being American that I have put on opposing sides of my past/future, continuity/change ledgers.
Nonetheless, most of us tilt in one direction or the other. Standing at either end of this continuum makes you no less of an American.
Eighty years ago, Franklin D. Roosevelt went to Monticello, Thomas Jefferson’s home in Charlottesville, to offer an Independence Day address insisting that the inventors of our experiment created a nation that would never fear change. He spoke nearly seven years after the onset of the Great Depression in the election year that would end with his biggest landslide victory. FDR was in the midst of the boldest and most radical wave of reform that the New Deal would produce, and you can hear this in his speech. It still serves as a rallying cry for those of us who see our founders as champions of repair, renewal and reform.
What, he asked, had the founders done? “They had broken away from a system of peasantry, away from indentured servitude,” Roosevelt explained. “They could build for themselves a new economic independence. Theirs were not the gods of things as they were, but the gods of things as they ought to be. And so, as Monticello itself so well proves, they used new means and new models to build new structures.” 
Not the gods of things as they were, but the gods of things as they ought to be: Thus the creed of the reformer.
As for Jefferson himself, Roosevelt said, he “applied the culture of the past to the needs and the life of the America of his day. His knowledge of history spurred him to inquire into the reason and justice of laws, habits and institutions. His passion for liberty led him to interpret and adapt them in order to better the lot of mankind.”
Here again, the purpose of the past is to serve the present and future. History is about testing institutions against standards and adapting them, as Roosevelt put it, to “enlarge the freedom of the human mind and to destroy the bondage imposed on it by ignorance, poverty and political and religious intolerance.” 
There is a straight line between Roosevelt’s understanding of our tradition and President Obama’s as he expressed it in his 2015 speech on the 50th anniversary of the voting rights march in Selma.
“What greater expression of faith in the American experiment than this, what greater form of patriotism is there than the belief that America is not yet finished,” Obama declared, “that we are strong enough to be self-critical, that each successive generation can look upon our imperfections and decide that it is in our power to remake this nation to more closely align with our highest ideals?”
No doubt many Americans celebrate a narrative on our national holiday that has a more traditional ring than FDR’s or Obama’s. We can jointly honor our freedom to argue about this but perhaps agree on one proposition: If we had been unwilling in the past to embrace Lincoln’s call to “think anew and act anew” and to find FDR’s “new means” and “new models,” we might not have made it to our 240th birthday.

Saturday, July 2, 2016

Military Is Asked to March to a Less Expensive Tune


By Dave Philipps, New York Times [original article contains links]; see also John Brown, "A Modest Proposal: Make the Pentagon Our Very Own Ministry of Culture!" Huffington Post.

image from article

As far back as the Revolutionary War, the United States military has trumpeted its
gleaming, brassy bands as a point of pride and a critical soft power weapon in its
arsenal. But in an era of budget cuts and troop reductions, Congress is signaling that
it may be time for one of the largest employers of musicians in the world to turn the
music down.

The Pentagon fields more than 130 military bands worldwide, made up of about
6,500 musicians, and not just in traditional brass and drum corps like the kind that
will march in many Fourth of July parades on Monday. There are also military rock
acts with artsy names, conservatory­-trained military jazz ensembles, military
bluegrass pickers, even a military calypso band based in the Virgin Islands.

All of this cost about $437 million last year — almost three times the budget of
the National Endowment for the Arts.

In June, the House of Representatives passed bills that would force the military
to give a detailed accounting of the bands’ activities and expenses and limit where
and when the bands could perform. The House Armed Services Committee inserted
a line in the latest National Defense Authorization Act saying the committee
“believes that the services may be able to conserve end strength by reducing the
number of military bands.”

Representative Martha E. McSally, Republican of Arizona, a former Air Force
fighter pilot who introduced one of the measures, noted that spending on bands had
steadily increased in recent years, with the military buying $11,000 flutes and
$12,000 tubas, while at the same time the Air Force has been facing a shortage of
fighter pilots and aircraft maintainers.

“While our communities certainly do enjoy being entertained by our military
bands,” Ms. McSally said on the House floor in June, “they would, I think, prefer to
be protected by our military.”

The military has staunchly defended its bands, saying music is an important
asset that helps strengthen relationships with allies and bolster morale among
troops. Senior leaders and enlisted musicians say bands are a relative bargain for the
peace and good will they spread. Getting in requires the push­-ups and shooting
practice of basic training and an audition that can draw graduates of some of the
country’s finest music schools.

There is ample history behind military music making. At the start of the
Revolutionary War, George Washington, who dabbled in the flute, personally
directed the creation of a fife and drum corps and ordered that the fifes be sorted by
pitch to ensure proper sound.

“Until you see what we do, it’s hard to really understand the mission impact music
can have,” Senior Master Sgt. Ryan Carson said in a phone interview from Doha,
Qatar, where his Air Force rock band, Max Impact, is deployed.

In recent months, he and his five band mates have played in Egypt, Jordan,
Kuwait and a number of what he called “undisclosed locations,” performing popular
songs in Arabic for foreign dignitaries, troops and children, as well as globally
recognized American rock anthems by groups like Journey and Bon Jovi.

“We are allowing people to relax, connect, have meaningful interactions. For a
lot of these people, it leaves a really lasting, positive impression of our country and
our military,” he said. “It’s hard to put a value on that.”

None in Congress have indicated they want to silence bands completely.
Instead, they have focused on what they describe as frivolous gigs and costs that
have grown considerably, even as overall military spending has shrunk.

Some military bands travel to music competitions far from relevant audiences.

Others play free at festivals that charge admission. In 26 years in the Air Force, Ms.
McSally said she saw plenty of performances that did nothing to further national
interests. Often ensembles would play for officers at private gatherings. When she
was a cadet at the Air Force Academy, the academy’s band, made up of professional
musicians, not cadets, played each day as students marched to lunch.

“Doing that stuff in this day and age, when we don’t have enough people for
combat positions?” she said in a phone interview. “I just don’t get it.”

Her amendment would prevent military bands from playing at many social
events, including those that are not free and open to the public.

It is the latest of a number of attempts to rein in spending on bands in recent
years. The first was in 2011, when Representative Betty McCollum, a Minnesota
Democrat, proposed a $200 million cap on what was then a $325 million program.
“The original mission had sprawled with little or no oversight,” she said in a
phone interview this week. “They were doing general P.R., and often the events
weren’t even open to the public. A lot of it was community events where a member of
Congress could call up and say send us a military band. What does that have to do
with national defense?”

Her 2011 amendment failed. So did another she introduced the next year, when
spending on bands had grown to $388 million.

Though the current $437 million price tag would barely qualify as a drop in the
defense budget bucket of about $600 billion, it still dwarfs all other federal spending
on music.

Leaders in the Pentagon quietly grumble that by focusing on bands, Congress is
going after small potatoes. The military has for years proposed base closings that it
estimates would save more than $2 billion a year, but Congress has not acted on the
politically troublesome proposals that could cut jobs in their districts.

The tension between the military’s push for pomp and Washington’s aversion to
paying the piper is hardly a modern problem. At the outset of the Civil War, Union
regiments enlisted lavish bands with as many as 50 musicians, sometimes complete
with turbans and other exotic regalia. When forces converged in large encampments,
one Union bandmaster later wrote, “the effect of the confusion of sounds produced
can hardly be imagined.”

By 1862, the Union had nearly 15,000 bandsmen, and the secretary of war
issued an order limiting band size and pushing thousands of buglers, trombonists
and other music makers out of the Army.

In 1927, Congress was considering an increase in pay and rank for military
bandsmen. One senator opened hearings by noting that many military leaders
“regard the band as a nuisance.”

But the first witness, none other than John Philip Sousa, composer of the
country’s most famous marches, including the unofficial theme song of
Independence Day, “The Stars and Stripes Forever,” underscored music’s power by
saying that every great army since ancient times had relied on it.

“I do not believe that any nation that would go to war without a band would
stand a chance of winning,” he said. “You want something to put pep in a man, to
make him fight.”

These days, of course, troops ride into battle more often pepped up by a
Bluetooth speaker on the dashboard, but the military still relies on bands for
ceremonies and funerals.

Perhaps taking a cue from Congress, the military has started in recent years to
cut back on its own. The Army has trimmed 600 band personnel since Congress
started calling for reductions in 2011, and it plans to cut 270 more by 2019. The
Marines and Navy cut two active-­duty bands, and the Air Force cut three. A
Pentagon spokesman said it was unclear whether decreasing the number of bands
would decrease costs, since the cuts would mean more travel for the remaining
musicians, but Pentagon figures show more than 90 percent of costs cover
personnel.

Even with troop reductions, the military has no plans to curtail the main
functions of its musicians, which range from playing on the White House lawn and
at Arlington National Cemetery to playing in dusty and distant forward operating
bases.

“Military bands are a critical part of operations,” said Mark Wright, a Defense
Department spokesman. “They inspire, they build a rapport with our citizens and
foreign nations. The types of operations we do may be hard to understand, but
everyone understands music.”

Friday, July 1, 2016

Germany’s New Global Role


Berlin Steps Up

By Frank-Walter Steinmeier, Foreign Affairs [original article contains links]; see also John Brown, "Who Eventually Won World War II in Europe," Notes and Essays


Image from article, with caption: Germany's Chancellor Angela Merkel arrives at an EU-Turkey summit in Brussels, as the bloc looks to Ankara to help it curb the influx of refugees and migrants flowing into Europe, March 2016

Over the past two decades, Germany’s global role has undergone a remarkable transformation. Following its peaceful reunifica­tion in 1990, Germany was on track to become an economic giant that had little in the way of foreign policy. Today, however, the country is a major European power that attracts praise and criticism in equal measure. This holds true both for Germany’s response to the recent surge of refugees—it welcomed more than one million people last year—and for its handling of the euro crisis.

As Germany’s power has grown, so, too, has the need for the country to explain its foreign policy more clearly. Germany’s recent history is the key to understanding how it sees its place in the world. Since 1998, I have served my country as a member of four cabinets and as the leader of the parliamentary opposition. Over that time, Germany did not seek its new role on the international stage. Rather, it emerged as a central player by remaining stable as the world around it changed. As the United States reeled from the effects of the Iraq war and the EU struggled through a series of crises, Germany held its ground. It fought its way back from economic difficulty, and it is now taking on the responsibilities befitting the biggest economy in Europe. Germany is also contributing diplomatically to the peaceful resolution of multiple conflicts around the globe: most obviously with Iran and in Ukraine, but also in Colombia, Iraq, Libya, Mali, Syria, and the Balkans. Such actions are forcing Germany to reinterpret the principles that have guided its foreign policy for over half a century. But Germany is a reflective power: even as it adapts, a belief in the importance of restraint, deliberation, and peaceful negotiation will continue to guide its interactions with the rest of the world.

THE STRONG MAN OF EUROPE

Today both the United States and Europe are struggling to provide global leadership. The 2003 invasion of Iraq damaged the United States’ standing in the world. After the ouster of Saddam Hussein, sectarian violence ripped Iraq apart, and U.S. power in the region began to weaken. Not only did the George W. Bush administration fail to reorder the region through force, but the political, economic, and soft-power costs of this adventure undermined the United States’ overall position. The illusion of a unipolar world faded.

When U.S. President Barack Obama assumed office in 2009, he began to rethink the United States’ commitment to the Middle East and to global engagements more broadly. His critics say that the president has created power vacuums that other actors, including Iran and Russia, are only too willing to fill. His supporters, of which I am one, counter that Obama is wisely responding to a changing world order and the changing nature of U.S. power. He is adapting the means and goals of U.S. foreign policy to the nation’s capabilities and the new challenges it faces.

Meanwhile, the EU has run into struggles of its own. In 2004, the union accepted ten new member states, finally welcoming the former communist countries of eastern Europe. But even as the EU expanded, it lost momentum in its efforts to deepen the foundations of its political union. That same year, the union presented its members with an ambitious draft constitution, created by a team led by former French President Valéry Giscard d’Estaing. But when voters in France and the Netherlands, two of the EU’s founding nations, rejected the document, the ensuing crisis emboldened those Europeans who questioned the need for an “ever-closer union.” This group has grown steadily stronger in the years since, while the integrationists have retreated.

Now, the international order that the United States and Europe helped create and sustain after World War II—an order that generated freedom, peace, and prosperity in much of the world—is under pressure. The increasing fragility of various states—and, in some cases, their complete collapse—has destabilized entire regions, especially Africa and the Middle East, sparked violent conflicts, and provoked ever-greater waves of mass migration. At the same time, state and nonstate actors are increasingly defying the multilateral rules-based system that has preserved peace and stability for so long. The rise of China and India has created new centers of power that are changing the shape of inter­national relations. Russia’s annexation of Crimea has produced a serious rift with Europe and the United States. The rivalry between Iran and Saudi Arabia increasingly dominates the Middle East, as the state order in the region erodes and the Islamic State, or ISIS, attempts to obliterate borders entirely.

Against this backdrop, Germany has remained remarkably stable. This is no small achievement, considering the country’s position in 2003, when the troubles of the United States and the EU were just beginning. At the time, many called Germany “the sick man of Europe”: unemployment had peaked at above 12 percent, the economy had stagnated, social systems were overburdened, and Germany’s opposition to the U.S.-led war in Iraq had tested the nation’s resolve and provoked outrage in Washington. In March of that year, German Chancellor Gerhard Schröder delivered a speech in Germany’s parliament, the Bundestag, titled “Courage for Peace and Courage for Change,” in which he called for major economic reforms. Although his fellow Social Democrats had had the courage to reject the Iraq war, they had little appetite for change. Schröder’s reforms to the labor market and the social security system passed the Bundestag, but at a high political price for Schröder himself: he lost early elections in 2005.

But those reforms laid the foundation for Germany’s return to economic strength, a strength that has lasted to the present day. And Germany’s reaction to the 2008 financial crisis only bolstered its economic position. German businesses focused on their advantages in manufacturing and were quick to exploit the huge opportunities in emerging markets, especially China. German workers wisely supported the model of export-led growth.

But Germans should not exaggerate their country’s progress. Germany has not become an economic superpower, and its share of world exports was lower in 2014 than in 2004—and lower than at the time of German reunification. Germany has merely held its ground better than most of its peers in the face of rising competition.

EUROPE'S PEACEFUL POWER

Germany’s relative economic power is an unambiguous strength. But some critics see the country’s military restraint as a weakness. During Schröder’s chancellorship, Germany fought in two wars (in Kosovo and Afghanistan) and adamantly opposed the unleashing of a third (in Iraq). The military engagements in Kosovo and Afghanistan marked a historic step for a nation that had previously sought to ban the word “war” from its vocabulary entirely. Yet Germany stepped up because it took its responsibility for the stability of Europe and its alliance with the United States seriously. Then as now, German officials shared a deep conviction that the country’s security was inextricably linked to that of the United States. Nevertheless, most of them opposed the invasion of Iraq, because they saw it as a war of choice that had dubious legitimacy and the clear potential to spark further conflict. In Germany, this opposition is still widely considered a major achievement—even by the few who supported U.S. policy at the time.

In the years since, Germany’s leaders have carefully deliberated whether to get involved in subsequent conflicts, subjecting these decisions to a level of scrutiny that has often exasperated the country’s allies. In the summer of 2006, for example, I helped broker a cease-fire in Lebanon to end the war between Israel and Hezbollah. I believed Germany had to support this agreement with military force if necessary, even though I knew that our past as perpetrators of the Holocaust made the deployment of German soldiers on Israel’s borders a particularly delicate matter. Before embracing the military option, I invited my three immediate predecessors as foreign minister to Berlin for advice. Together they brought 31 years of experience in office to the table. Germany’s history weighed most heavily on the eldest among us, Hans-Dietrich Genscher, a World War II veteran, who argued against the proposal. My younger two predecessors agreed with me, however, and to this day, German warships patrol the Mediterranean coast to control arms shipments to Lebanon as part of the United Nations Interim Force in Lebanon—an arrangement accepted and supported by Israel.

Germany’s path to greater military assertiveness has not been linear, and it never will be. Germans do not believe that talking at roundtables solves every problem, but neither do they think that shooting does. The mixed track record of foreign military interventions over the past 20 years is only one reason for caution. Above all, Germans share a deeply held, historically rooted conviction that their country should use its political energy and resources to strengthen the rule of law in international affairs. Our historical experience has destroyed any belief in national exceptionalism—for any nation. Whenever possible, we choose Recht (law) over Macht (power). As a result, Germany emphasizes the need for legitimacy in supranational decision-making and invests in UN-led multilateralism.

Every German military deployment faces intense public scrutiny and must receive approval from the Bundestag. Germans always seek to balance the responsibility to protect the weak with the responsibility of restraint. If Germany’s partners and allies walk an extra mile for diplomacy and negotiations, Germans want their government to walk one mile further, sometimes to our partners’ chagrin. That does not mean Germany is overcompensating for its belligerent past. Rather, as a reflective power, Germany struggles to reconcile the lessons of history with the challenges of today. Germany will continue to frame its international posture primarily in civilian and diplomatic terms and will resort to military engagement only after weighing every risk and every possible alternative.

EMBRACING A GLOBAL ROLE

Germany’s relative economic strength and its cautious approach to the use of force have persisted as the regional and global environment has undergone radical change. Germany’s partnership with the United States and its integration into the EU have been the main pillars of its foreign policy. But as the United States and the EU have stumbled, Germany has held its ground and emerged as a major power, largely by default.

In this role, Germany has come to realize that it cannot escape its responsibilities. Since Germany sits at the center of Europe, neither isolation nor confrontation is a prudent policy option. Instead, Germany tries to use dialogue and cooperation to promote peace and end conflict.

Consider Germany’s new role in the Middle East. For decades, the Arab-Israeli conflict dominated the region’s political landscape. In the decades after World War II, Germany deliberately avoided a role at the forefront of diplomatic efforts to resolve the standoff. But today, as conflicts have spread, Germany is engaging more broadly across the region. Since 2003, when multilateral efforts to dissuade Iran from building a nuclear bomb began, Germany has played a central role, and it was one of the signatories to the agreement reached in 2015. Germany is also deeply involved in finding a diplomatic solution to the conflict in Syria.

Nor is Germany shying away from the responsibility to help construct a new security architecture in the region—a process for which the Iran deal may have paved the way. Europe’s history offers some useful lessons here. The 1975 Helsinki conference helped overcome the continent’s Cold War–era divisions through the creation of the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe. If regional players choose to look at that example, they will find useful lessons that might assist them in addressing their current conflicts.

Sometimes Germans need others to remind us of the usefulness of our own history. Last year, for example, I had an inspiring conversation with a small group of intellectuals in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. One of them remarked, “We need a Westphalian peace for our region.” The deal that diplomats in Münster and Osnabrück hammered out in 1648 to separate religion from military power inspires thinkers in the Middle East to this day; for a native Westphalian like me, there could be no better reminder of the instructive power of the past.

RISING TO THE CHALLENGE

Closer to home, the Ukraine crisis has tested Germany’s leadership and diplomatic skills. Since the collapse of Viktor Yanukovych’s regime and the Russian annexation of Crimea in early 2014, Germany and France have led international efforts to contain and ultimately solve the military and political crisis. As the U.S. government has focused on other challenges, Germany and France have assumed the role of Russia’s main interlocutors on questions concerning European security and the survival of the Ukrainian state.

Germany did not elbow its way into that position, nor did anyone else appoint it to that role. Its long-standing economic and political ties to both Russia and Ukraine made it a natural go-between for both sides, despite Berlin’s obvious support for the victims of Moscow’s aggression. The intense political debate that played out within Germany over how to respond to the challenge only enhanced Berlin’s credibility, by showing the world that the government did not take its decisions lightly. The Minsk agreement that Germany and France brokered in February 2015 to halt hostil­ities is far from perfect, but one thing is certain: without it, the conflict would have long ago spun out of control and extended beyond the Donbas region of Ukraine. Going forward, Germany will continue to do what it can to prevent the tensions from escalating into a new Cold War.

During the euro crisis, meanwhile, Germany was forced to confront the danger posed by the excessive debt levels of some Mediterranean EU states. The overwhelming majority of the eurozone’s members and the International Monetary Fund supported plans to demand that countries such as Greece impose budgetary controls and hard but unavoidable economic and social reforms to ensure the eventual convergence of the economies of the eurozone. But rather than placing the responsibility for such changes in the hands of these countries’ national elites, many in Europe preferred to blame Germany for allegedly driving parts of southern European into poverty, submission, and collapse.

Germany has come under similar criticism during the ongoing refugee crisis. Last autumn, Germany opened the country’s borders to refugees, mainly from Iraq and Syria. The governments of the Czech Republic, Hungary, and Slovakia worried that this move would worsen the crisis by encouraging more refugees to enter their countries in the hope of eventually crossing into Germany. So far, however, such fears have proved unfounded.


How and when Europe will resolve this crisis remains unclear. What is clear, however, is that even a relatively strong country such as Germany cannot do it alone. We cannot give in to the rising desire of certain groups of the electorate to respond on a solely national level, by setting arbitrary limits on the acceptance of refugees, for example. Germany cannot and will not base its foreign policy on solutions that promise quick fixes but in reality are counterproductive, be they walls or wars.

A reflective foreign policy requires constant deliberation over hard choices. It also requires flexibility. Consider the recent refugee deal Germany helped the EU strike with Turkey. Under this agreement, the EU will return to Turkey any migrant who arrives illegally in Greece and in return will open a legal path for Syrians to come to the EU directly from Turkey. The agreement also contains provisions for much deeper cooperation between the EU and Turkey. Despite controversial developments within Turkey, such as the escalation of violence in the Kurdish regions and the increasing harassment of the media and the opposition, Germany recognized that Turkey had a critical role to play in the crisis and that no sustainable progress could be made without it. No one can tell today whether the new relationship will be constructive in the long term. But there can hardly be progress or humane management of the EU’s external border unless European leaders engage seriously with their Turkish counterparts.

Some politicians, such as the former Polish foreign minister Radek Sikorski, have described Germany as Europe’s “indispensable nation.” Germany has not aspired to this status. But circumstances have forced it into a central role. Perhaps no other European nation’s fate is so closely connected to the existence and success of the EU. For the first time in its history, Germany is living in peace and friendship with France, Poland, and the rest of the continent. This is largely due to the renunciation of complete sovereignty and the sharing of resources that the EU has encouraged for almost 60 years now. As a result, preserving that union and sharing the burden of leadership are Germany’s top priorities. Until the EU develops the ability to play a stronger role on the world stage, Germany will try its best to hold as much ground as possible—in the interests of all of Europe. Germany will be a responsible, restrained, and reflective leader, guided in chief by its European instincts.

The Disunited State of America - Note for a discussion, "E Pluribus Unum? What Keeps the United States United"



image from article


As nations grow richer, birth rates fall and immigrant labor rises—robbing workers of a sense of security and sowing cultural conflict


By GEORGE MELLOAN, Wall Street Journal
June 30, 2016 7:03 p.m. ET

Judging from the heavy voting for “outsiders” Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders, Americans are in a bloodless revolt against their government. Opinion polls suggest widespread anxiety about the nation’s future—a concern that we are on the “wrong track.”

In “The Price of Prosperity: Why Rich Nations Fail and How to Renew Them,” Todd Buchholz writes that the anxiety is justified, that “nations are just as likely to unravel after periods of prosperity as after periods of depression.” He calls the process “entropy,” a term drawn from the study of thermodynamics. Roughly translated into the vernacular, it means a descent into disorder and chaos.

The author sees in America five entropic forces that can “shatter even a rich nation.” They are, as he lists them: falling birthrates; globalized trade; rising debt loads; an eroding work ethic; and “the challenge of patriotism in a multicultural country.”

Each claim is expansive enough to merit a long discussion, but briefly the argument is that as nations grow richer, birth rates fall, making nations more dependent on immigrant labor to sustain production and wealth. At the same time increased globalization causes dislocations that rob workers of a sense of security. The resulting cultural conflicts and anxiety sow disaffection, weakening the unifying power of patriotism.

Coupled with these forces are the debilitating effects of excessive debt and government-subsidized idleness. Mr. Buchholz contrasts the liberal Social Security and Medicare funds going to today’s retiring baby boomer—$327,000 in excess of what he paid in federal taxes—with what a newborn can expect: “She will pay $421,000 more in federal taxes than she will ever receive in future benefits.”

As to the work ethic, Mr. Buchholz wryly observes that when rich nations begin to shatter, “everyone has a comfy bed—but fewer people have a reason to get out of it.” He cites the rising number of early retirees and a doubling of the number of people who have quit their jobs and filed for disability benefits since 1995.

What is to be done? The author argues that “if a nation wants to survive the gale forces of a swiftly changing economy, it had better convey to its children and to its immigrants a sense of its national character and the rituals and stories that can hold it together.” To restore that sense he proposes requiring that all applicants for citizenship or green-card permanent residency have their passports stamped at no fewer than five historical museums, libraries or landmarks, such as the Gettysburg battlefield or Philadelphia’s Independence Hall. He would impose a similar requirement on anyone applying for a student loan.

More substantively, retirees should get a raise only if the nation’s debt situation improves. The jobless should be given more incentives to find work, such as “mobility credits” for moving to another state to take a job. The list goes on. Readers can decide if these proposals are powerful or practical enough to cope with an “entropy” as devastating as the one the author envisions.

Mr. Buchholz was economic adviser to George H.W. Bush. He has run a hedge fund. He teaches and writes books and is popular with TV talk-show hosts. His book reflects that range of talents in that it has the tone of a provocative and entertaining dinner speech, studded with factoids and witticisms. Acknowledging the bias that earlier generations could feel toward new groups, he notes that Benjamin Franklin disliked Germans and found even Swedes swarthy: “Clearly,” he writes, “he did not foresee a never-ending road tour of screaming blondes in Abba’s Mamma Mia.” Quotes from Woody Allen, Robert De Niro and other celebrities pop up. He does riffs on history’s great unifiers, Israel’s Golda Meir, Turkey’s Ataturk and Alexander the Great. Old-fashioned verities like hard work, honesty and love of country are extolled.

The result is entertaining and informative but a bit glib. For example, rising wealth does indeed correlate with falling birth rates, but it’s not quite that simple. Some poor countries, Cuba and Belarus, for example, have lower fertility rates than some of the richest ones. Mr. Buchholz argues that the U.S. “no longer coheres. We have a thousand television channels, 1 billion web sites and 330 million citizens with no reason to listen to each other.” Communications technology has indeed changed the world, but is it true that America no longer coheres? Anyone with a computer or smartphone has direct access not only to family and friends in distant places but also to an almost endless amount of published information. All sorts of subcultures and affinity groups cohere nicely without fostering strife or dissolution. Whatever one thinks of the election results so far, there’s no lack of public interest and involvement.

The bubbling up of immigrant- and trade-bashing is disturbing and suggests rising, not declining, nationalism. Mr. Buchholz makes it clear that he understands the vital importance of trade. But if protectionists misunderstand his point that the dislocations caused by trade can “crumble loyalties,” they may feel vindicated by his argument, however misguidedly. Trade stagnation costs more jobs than trade dislocations and can “crumble loyalties” a lot faster.

Nonetheless, Mr. Buchholz has raised his warning flags in a charming way. If his aim was to further excite our national anxieties, I’m not sure he succeeds. He has too much good humor to be a wholly effective doomsayer.