January 28, 2005, 10:06 a.m.
In Davos, Part II

Yesterday, we had our first round of Davos notes; welcome to the second — shall we get right into it?

I bump into Ted Turner, almost literally. (I can hear you say, "You should have bumped into him hard.") He is craggy — very craggy — intense — very intense — and super-confident. He's handsome, too, in a western way. (I know he's southern — as in, "The Mouth of the South" — but he looks like the Marlboro Man.) He twangs loudly.

And I'll tell you something else, which I trust you'll understand: He looks like a conservative. Like a hard-driving, tail-kicking conservative. You know what I mean, right?

When he went from yahoo Right to nutty Left, he did not lose that look.

Someday, we ought to make a list of people who look like right-wingers but aren't — starting with outgoing deputy secretary of state Richard Armitage.

Anyway, about the Mouth: Who could have told you, 20 years ago, that, between Ted Turner and Jane Fonda, Jane would turn out to be the more conservative?

I will turn now to another of your favorite men — Jacques Chirac. If Davos has a hero — leaving aside Bill Clinton, and possibly Lula da Silva — it is almost surely the French Conservative. How did this happen? "Three guesses," as my grandmother would say, sarcastically. He is simply seen as the leader of what you might call the Coalition Against Bush.

He does a semi-sneaky thing, Chirac does. Tony Blair is supposed to be the first big speaker to address the Davos throng. But Chirac has asked to speak, at the last minute — ahead of Blair. So they move heaven and earth to accommodate him, throwing the general schedule out of whack.

Except, owing to "difficult meteorological conditions," as Chirac puts it, he cannot make it in person. He addresses us from (I believe) the Elysée Palace, via satellite (or whatever the proper term is — please don't bother me with technological details).

The founder and leader of the World Economic Forum, Klaus Schwab, introduces him as "a man of profound conviction, European conviction . . ." — that is a telling phrase. Then Chirac speaks of "silent tsunamis" around the world. That is the great buzz phrase around Davos, the Phrase of 2005 — "silent tsunamis." These are said especially to take place in Africa, and they include hunger, resentment, and disease, particularly AIDS.

You can read Chirac's speech elsewhere, but I will give you a few highlights.

Chirac says, "The divide between rich and poor has widened to a frightening degree." I have heard this all my life (brief as it has been — ahem), and it may well be true. Also, it's possible that the poor have become less poor, even as the "gap" has widened. I wonder which Chirac and others would prefer, if they had to make a choice: a narrower gap and poorer people, or a wider gap, and richer (or less poor) people, all around.

Says Chirac, "The youth of Africa, Asia, and Latin America is rightly demanding its entitlement to a future. These populations will put their energy and talent at the service of the future, if they are given the means to do so. If this prospect is denied them, however, then let us beware of the risk of revolt."

He hails the recent report by environmental maestro Jeffrey Sachs, as everyone does — Sachs is now the ultimate Davos Man — and he hails the United Nations: It has "unrivaled experience and a unique capacity for organization." Oh?

Then he puts his proposal on the table: Chirac wants governments to up their aid budgets to the Third World, and to levy special taxes — on financial transactions, on plane tickets, on virtually anything that moves.

How about this, uttered in Switzerland? "Why not ask countries that maintain bank secrecy, which they consider to be part of individual freedom, to partially compensate for the consequences of world tax evasion, which is so damaging to the poorest countries, through a levy on flows of foreign capital in and out of their territory?"

And dig this: "Let us look at the hypothesis of a contribution levied on the fuel used by air or sea transport. This would simply represent the end of an exemption regime. The fuel used by these sectors, which contribute to the greenhouse effect and the pollution of our planet, is currently practically exonerated from all taxation." (Forgive that "exonerated" — I am merely quoting the official translation.) "This would be another way to mobilize several billion dollars."

And then he trains his sights on the United States: "Every year, U.S. citizens give over $220 billion to charitable causes. Three percent of this goes to international causes." You don't actually hear the booing in the hall, but you can sense it.

Toward the end, Chirac speaks of "social rights" — a phrase that ought to send a shiver or two down spines. And the audience gives him very long applause, after this very dull speech.

Before the screen flickers off, Klaus Schwab assures the president that he has "fully grasped the spirit of Davos, the raison d'être of the World Economic Forum." His "specific suggestions give us much food for thought," as we grapple with how to proceed in "an ever more complex world."

This last phrase triggers a memory. Years ago, I saw Bill Bennett devastate Derek Bok, then the president of Harvard, in debate. This was an unusual kind of debate, in that the participants faced questions from the audience. (Perhaps that's not so unusual — but it's not classic.) One young woman got up and prefaced her question, to Bennett, with a statement about "our ever more complex world." Bennett answered the question, and then said, "By the way, about that phrase you used: 'ever more complex world.' I would drop it, if I were you. In some ways, the world is actually less complex than it once was."

Now, that was almost 20 years ago — and I don't know that he'd say the same now. But that startling correction has always stayed with me. Therefore, I don't think I could ever cause my mouth to say "ever more complex world" — even if, at some point, it were true.

In the Congress Center, hub of the World Economic Forum, there is a wind and percussion ensemble. They're playing contemporary music. The sounds are — well, let's just say that people who have to staff information desks, at close range to the ensemble, are openly cringing. Poor souls. They have earned their money.

At Davos, a no-tie rule has recently been laid down. But not everyone cooperates. At my table, one morning, a couple of Italians are dressed beautifully — no surprise. Fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly, and Italians have to dress beautifully, ties and all.

I'm on a panel with Barney Frank — you know, the congressman from Massachusetts, and one of the best talkers in the Democratic party. The subject is Challenges to the United States. The moderator is Phil Revzin, a vice president of Dow Jones, and the other panelists are Yuan Ming of Beijing University, and Alyson Bailes, a strikingly poised and articulate Englishwoman who is director of the International Peace Research Institute in Stockholm.

I have to tell you something about Frank: Before the panel begins, as the audience is filing in, he takes his seat on the stage — no one else is there — and casually reads the paper. Remarkable, that. I can't even say precisely why. He is just totally at ease, almost indifferent.

We go through the usual shenanigans, and I will spare you most of it, but Frank is very down on the inaugural address (as practically all of Davos is) — I am not. Also, Frank is very gung-ho on the protection of Taiwan, and on basic rights for the Chinese. He makes no bones. And he won't let anyone get away with talk about "different styles of democracy." Democracy is democracy, he says, essentially — sure, there are variations, but there are common elements, too, and if you don't have those, you don't have something worthy of the name: democracy.

I have noted this before, in my Davos jottings over the years: In this atmosphere, such Democrats as Sander Levin, Joe Biden, and Barney Frank can come off as John Foster Dulles.

Alyson Bailes, at one point, says that she is not worried about China or Iran, as some of the rest of us are. Oh? says Frank. About whom are you worried, then? She answers, "Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Syria, Israel." (At least she said Syria.) Really, says Frank — you're more worried about Israel than about Iran or China?

Oh, yes.

One of the questioners in the audience is Chris Shays, the congressman (moderate Republican) from Connecticut. He makes a statement about European hostility to America, and European condescension to America. The BBC, he says — in short — is disgusting. He has never heard such arrogance. He also says (and I paraphrase): "We hear about the European view, and Europe's positions, and as far as I can tell, it's just France and Germany, talking to each other. To me, that's like New York and California talking to each other."

Frank leans over to me and says, "But not Texas."

Oh, I forgot to tell you something yesterday: You remember that luncheon with Sharon Stone, when she was talking about AIDS? Well, as she was speaking — to a basically hushed room — the cellphone of someone at my table rang. He answered it — and talked for a good minute, I would say.

Thank goodness he was a European (an "Old" European). If he had been one of ours, the judgment would have been: Ugly American.

Another quick point about cellphones — you've heard me make it before, but I wish to make it again: That Nokia jingle? It has replaced Sibelius's Finlandia as that country's theme music. And it is the most popular — certainly the most familiar — tune at the World Economic Forum.

We have a big meeting, labeled a Town Hall — the purpose is to "set priorities," to determine the most important issues facing the world, and therefore Davos.

The organizer is an American, and not unself-conscious about the fact: When she trips over "military time" — "16:45" instead of "4:45" — she apologizes for her "cultural bias." At one point, she comments on democratic participation: "Speaking as an American, I know that our system is broken. It's supposed to be government of the people, by the people, and for the people, but that's no longer true. Voices don't get heard."

This is an odd thing to say: American society is arguably more democratic than ever before. Not too long ago — certainly within the lifetime of this woman — many Americans, who should have been eligible, couldn't even vote. We now have referenda up the wazoo — a lot of people think too many — and the media have blossomed, with the advent of new technologies.

Anyway . . .

I also hear the phrase "World Trade Center debacle," which is a curious thing to hear: "crime," "atrocity," yes — debacle, no.

A purpose of the Town Hall is to get ordinary Davosers — if there are any — involved. The week should not consist of "important people talking" (from a stage to an audience). Frankly, I don't mind hearing important people talk; perhaps this is in part because I'm a journalist.

I remember something from college days: I would wince when the professor would say, "We're here to learn from each other." I didn't want to learn from the knuckleheads who were my classmates and dorm-mates — the ones who puked into toilets all night long. I wanted to hear from someone who, presumably, knew something. Who had some authority.

This does not quite apply to Davos — where everyone's an authority, to one degree or another — but . . .

Some 500 people are attending this Town Hall, and it's crucial that they be seated promptly. Who is handling that? Why, Swiss Air flight attendants, who else? Beautiful.

On the subject of poverty, we hear that the three richest people in the world have more money than the GDPs of the poorest 48 countries. (I believe I have that right — but it is the overarching point that's true.) Everyone duly gasps. A travesty!

I wonder what the three richest people contribute to the world — e.g., computers — but that is an inappropriate thought.

It is axiomatic at Davos — among the people I tend to meet — that an economy, including the world economy, is a pie. To the extent that one person has a bigger piece, another person has a smaller piece (and there are no other pies in the oven). But weren't we to have transcended this by age 19 or so?

A demographic survey of the participants is done, and we are told that we don't represent the world population at all. We are too old. (Granted, there are no babies present.) There are not enough Latin Americans. And so on. This survey finds that Middle Easterners are "overrepresented" — our percentage of Middle Easterners is much greater than the percentage of Middle Easterners in the world. Much. But no one says we have "too many" Middle Easterners; just too few Latin Americans.

The organizer tells us that, given the paucity of Latin Americans, we should take into account — as we discuss the issues — what Latin Americans would say, if they were here. (At my table, there happens to be a Mexican lady, but never mind.)

So, what do Latin Americans think? Of course, we might ask, Which Latin Americans? In Venezuela, Chávezites harass, and sometimes kill, anti-Chávezites. Which is the Venezuelan position, to say nothing of the Latin American position?

Fidel Castro is Cuban, and so are his hundreds of political prisoners. What does "Cuba" think?

But I will not drive this into the ground.

Oh, yes, we have more businessmen than in the world population — obviously — so the "business voice" is "overrepresented." Really, what is the business voice? George Soros's? That of the hardware-store owner in Peoria?

One of the topics — touched on ever so gently — is Islam. The American organizer says this is "a beautiful religion, that we should all stand for." In Davos at large, there is a lot of "religion of peace" talk — more, even, than from the White House.

At my table (I am a "facilitator") I discover something that can be discovered anywhere around town: The United States is a stunningly powerful country, even an all-powerful country. It is responsible for nearly everything bad — war, pestilence, famine. It can do anything. Every problem in the world is its fault, and every solution is within its grasp, if only it weren't so malevolent.

The United States could create peace in the Middle East tomorrow, if it were so minded. It could cure AIDS, if it wanted. Two of the problems we have been asked to consider are poverty and American leadership (no, I'm not kidding). But really, I hear, these problems are one, because the United States is the cause of poverty throughout the world.

And what does the Town Hall have to say about China? First, the PRC must ensure "internal stability" — that is a great concern. It crosses my mind that Tibet is awfully stable, unfortunately for the Tibetans. And second, China is necessary as a "counterbalance to the United States." Why didn't I think of that!

Back to my table for a moment: When the topic is poverty, I ask whether politically free countries are poor. Is there any link between prosperity and freedom? Between prosperity and the rule of law? Between prosperity and human rights? An African woman brightens: "Oh, yes. On my continent, the countries that allow freedom do well, and the countries that are oppressive and corrupt do badly."

Whew.

Tony Blair has arrived, and he's about to give his speech. I note, as he is listening to the introductions, that I have never seen a politician look more earnest. I mean, I doubt that the finest actor could summon such a look of earnestness.

And when it is his turn to speak, he is simply — dazzling. Masterly. In control of voice, body, mind — extraordinary. You have to experience this pol, up close, to believe it.

His main topics are to be "climate change" and Africa, his two big agenda items for the G8, which he is heading. He says, "Forgive a smile" — I love that phrase, "forgive a smile" — "but it seems to me that every time I give a speech about global warming, I have to come through ice and snow to do it." That's a fine acknowledgment, a touch that Al Gore would be incapable of lending, I think.

Before he addresses his main topics, Blair wants to talk about Bush, America, and the war. Mind you: He does not have to do this. He could duck it entirely. He is here to talk about the climate and Africa — safe topics for Davos, because everyone agrees. Blair is showing a measure of courage.

And what does he have to say? There aren't Americans here — not many of them — making these arguments, so let's listen to the Labourite at length:

President Bush's inauguration speech last week marks a consistent evolution of U.S. policy. He spoke of America's mission to bring freedom in place of tyranny to the world. Leave aside for a moment the odd insistence by some commentators that such a plea is evidence of the "neoconservative" grip on Washington — I thought progressives were all in favor of freedom rather than tyranny. [Go ahead — read that line again. You know you want to.] The underlying features of the speech seem to me to be these: America accepts that terrorism cannot be defeated by military might alone. The more people live under democracy, with human liberty intact, the less inclined they or their states will be to indulge terrorism or to engage in it. This may be open to debate — though personally I agree with it — but it emphatically puts defeating the causes of terrorism alongside defeating the terrorists.

Secondly, by its very nature, such a mission cannot be accomplished alone. It is the very antithesis of isolationism; the very essence of international engagement. It requires long-term cooperation.

And it is based on enlightened self-interest. Freedom is good in itself. But it is also the best ultimate guarantee that human beings will live in sympathy with each other. The hard head has led to the warm heart.

None of this means the hard head won't still be applied. America, as is perhaps inevitable being the world's only superpower, who in the end is expected not just to talk about the world's problems but to solve them, approaches all issues with a propensity to question what others assume, treat the pressure groups with resistance, and ask others to share responsibility, as well as demand it of America.

But no one could say the inauguration speech was lacking in idealism.

And then Blair went on to suggest that America should listen more — and to give his spiel about climate control, and so on. When Blair talks about global warming, I must say, he does so in a reasonable manner. He gives you the impression that if you disagree with him, he doesn't hate you — doesn't count you as a foe of humanity. There is a temperance, a reasonableness, about him that is missing in our Democrats, I think.

Would you like to hear what he said about democracy? We were discussing this earlier: "Incidentally, when people talk of 'Western-style' democracy, in my view there is no such thing: There is democracy, or there isn't. The notion of democracy being a 'Western idea' is a nonsense, and mythology, as most recently the people of Afghanistan have powerfully demonstrated."

One thing disappointed me about Blair: He seems to connect poverty and terrorism. The terrorists, however, tend to be wacked richies — and does it not insult the poor to say that, because of their material want, they are prone to maiming and burning and killing? Exactly which poor people has the prime minister known?

But Blair is a huge gust of fresh air in Davos (even if he thinks the air is too warm). After his speech, he gives maybe the best answer to any question I have heard at Davos. Klaus Schwab asks him what the "business community" can do to help the world. Blair says, "First of all, the business community can make sure its businesses work well — and make a profit." That receives a smattering of applause. Blair smiles, "That's the first time I've ever been applauded for making that point."

Businessmen — you have heard me say — are remarkably cringing and apologetic at Davos. They seem wracked with guilt. They will not defend their enterprises; they portray their enterprises as charities, rather than as businesses. I find myself being in the absurd position of being more pro-Hewlett Packard (or whatever it's called now) than Carly Fiorina (its CEO).

A little later, Blair says that, when he meets business titans such as Bill Gates, "it always reminds me that I made a bad career choice." Isn't it a tad arrogant to assume that one could have excelled, à la Gates? But I would be wrong to doubt Tony Blair.

A final word on him: Shockingly, he uses the word "disinterested," in place of "uninterested." I would have thought him cleverer than that: "It's sometimes said that people are disinterested in politics. But they're not disinterested, they're disenfranchised." The "dis" and "dis" may be a nice match, but Blair meant "uninterested."

After his remarks on the inaugural address, however, I'll forgive him anything.

In the john later, a guy — an American, of course — said, "If Blair wanted to waste his political capital by supporting Bush, why didn't he at least demand more from Bush in return?" They never, never understand that Blair has fought the war because he thinks it right — and in Britain's interest — and not in order to extract some deal from the United States.

Blair put this marvelously some months ago. When I get home, I'll try to find it.

A last item, in this way-too-long set of Impromptus. It concerns the media. Bias is everything, as I know you know. The day following Blair's speech, the headline in the International Herald Tribune — which is the New York Times abroad — was: "Listen to the rest of the world, Blair urges the U.S." Yes, he did that some, although more mildly than the headline suggests. It is not an inaccurate headline. But it is skewed.

And what was the Wall Street Journal Europe's headline? "Britain's Blair Defends U.S. Call to Battle Tyranny."

I happen to think that that headline is truer to the speech — but it's a matter of emphasis.

And I will emphasize this: Have a good weekend, y'all.