The Marriage We Call Government

The role of government was one of the recurring themes in the debates during the recent US presidential election. Perhaps you remember the “you-did-not-build-that” controversy that was raging in the media. Obama was panned by many from the right for stating that, even if you succeed in business, you did not make that possible alone. In one of the many caricature cartoons that appeared on the web, a father points to the sandcastle that his children built in the beach, and proclaims to the confused kids “you did not build that!”

One commentator said that, for the first time in her life, she agreed with two diametrically opposed arguments at the same time. Yes, the kids built the sandcastle. But, would that be possible without someone offering beach-service in the first place? It needs investment, security, and other services that need collective action. There are many beaches around the world where security does not allow kids to enjoy the luxury of building sandcastles. The forlorn white beaches of Mogadishu come to mind.

This is just one aspect of the left-right division when it comes to the best way of building a society. The right emphasizes individual action, individual freedom, individual socio-economic independence. The left stands for shared responsibilities, shared benefits, and just allocation of the two across individuals. No matter what the philosophical or moralistic justifications provided for these positions, it stands clear that they represent two distinct visions regarding building a society. If we go extreme right, which idolizes libertarian principles, taxation is a crime and we cannot envision any meaningful role for government let alone a welfare state. If we go extreme left, we land in a communist society where individual choice is practically non-existent.

If government is a marriage, the Democrats would be the mother and the Republicans the father. The Father is no-nonsense and straight-faced. He insists on having disciplined kids, with clear individual rights and responsibilities. The mother, having instinctive, unconditional maternal love for her children, naturally gravitates towards shared responsibilities and rewards whereby the weakest members are protected. The mother is soft-hearted, and caring for outsiders as much as for the less fortunate of her children. The safety-first survival instinct of the father makes him zealous in defending the status-quo, doubtful of the unknown change, and suspicious of outsiders.

Throughout history, and across different societies, familial responsibilities constitute the distinct caring role of the mother and the couching and training role of the father. The father ensures that the child develops into an independent personhood, while the mother makes sure that s/he does not get in harm’s way. When conflicts arise between the two careers, there are cases where the mother becomes defensive and takes the side of the weaker sibling.  

Nowhere is this more evident than in the compelling story of the classic sibling rivalry between Jacob and Esau, which is narrated in Genesis. These twin brothers were fighting hard to earn the blessing of their father, Isaac, that ensured dominance. Esau, the first-born of the two, was “a skillful hunter, a man of the field”, and was tipped for the blessing by the father. But their mother Rebekah went to a great length to ensure that the blessing went to Jacob, who “was a mild man, dwelling in tents.” The ensuing battle between the two sexes is one of the most intriguing stories of the Old Testament.

Many polls indeed indicate that women are almost twice more likely to be Democrats than Republicans (with 41% and 25% of total women shares respectively). While gender can be a good predictor for political affiliation, what could be equally important is the social conditioning that leads one to better appreciate and hence affiliate with one of the qualities of the two genders. (Here, one may wonder on the effect of early family life on the likelihood of a person becoming a Republican or a Democrat. The archetype right-wing thinkers like Ayn Rand must have been brought up in a (relatively) patriarchal family, whereas thinkers associated with the left, such as Noam Chomsky, must have been raised in matriarchal families. You may say the independents are those lost in the arguments between the father and the mother in them).

If we take cue from nature, a successful society needs both the left and the right. It is not a mere coincidence that a typical family is built around a mother and a father, and not just any one of them. Fair representation of both sides by means of a democratic government ensures an equilibrium whereby the worst of one gender is tampered off by the best of the other. In fact, this lesson seems to have been properly internalized. If you take the US, the two parties have equally shared power since their formation, each party governing almost 50% of the years since 1861.  

A good analogy, you might say, except that an election has no resemblance to a wedding. There you have a point; neither do the two parties have the love-bond you typically see in a family. Yet, however unhappy the marriage, societies keep on forming governments. It appears as if people are heeding to the advice of Socrates who remarked “By all means marry; if you get a good wife, you'll be happy. If you get a bad one, you'll become a philosopher.”

And so, we do.

Obama vs. Romney

Many people expected Obama to come roaring back in his second debate, after he showed a rather listless performance on the first. I was quite skeptical of that expectation. I thought debates were like a football match: once it comes to pass, no amount of desperation can give you back the edge you lost, by luck or design.  I expected Romney to come prepared and spirited in the second debate as well, so that the best performance Obama could achieve is a draw. 

My expectation, however, happened to be outright wrong when Obama came fired up and proved his worth as a matchless communicator. As most voters agreed, I think Obama won that debate. Before the debate, some people said that the election will be lost if Obama’s performance was as bad as the first one. According to one reporter, the same people commented after the debate that, if Obama had performed in his first debate as well as he did in the second, the election would have been over then. That leaves the debate score so far between the two candidates at one-one.

What made all the difference? I think, first and foremost Obama’s complacency was a major reason for his failure during the first debate. Being an incumbent who has been in office for four years, and hand having an increasing lead in the polls must have made Obama the lazy guy we saw in the first debate. When quite suddenly all the lead in the polls disappeared, and the chance of winning his second term became as uncertain as a flip of the coin, Obama became the feisty debater we saw in the second debate.  It is just amazing to see that wherever you go a human performs better when he gets a shove.

Then, the second reason is of course that Obama loves town-hall type meetings. He has frequently mentioned his love for talking to people face-to-face (barring Governor Romney, of course). In the first debate, Obama showed his low interest to engage Romney in a real conversation, perhaps knowing very well that their differences are too big to reconcile. Luckily for Obama, the second debate gave him a much-needed audience whom he could directly address.  

No doubt, the debate involved a lot of low politics. Romney once characterized Obama as talk-only (“I know the president is good at communicating his positions.”) Obama did not hesitate to attack Romney for investing in China, and even worse for having a large pension. The two candidates thus seemed happy to bolster their positions among their entrenched supporters at the cost of winning the much-needed vote of independent and undecided voters.

In a stark contrast to his first debate, Obama said NO quite many times: “That is not true, Governor.” And yet, he took every chance possible to talk about the Governor’s plans in the ways he preferred, (mis)characterizing him as a flip-flopper, an out-of-touch rich guy with only the interests of the rich at heart. Obama played a calculated game; many times he tried to have the last say in a topic, and called on the moderator to stop Romney from going back and responding to Obama’s last comments.  He sometimes ignored Romney’s question, and twisted topics in ways that favored his arguments. He appeared to be a master player who knows his game, and one who is there only to win. Indeed, he was displaying some of the qualities of a good basketball player, which he must have honed when playing for his high school team in Hawaii. The firm positions he took in some cases, and the cool attitude he displayed while making them clear is reminiscent of the young Obama’s basketball career, described as follows from his biography:

“[H]e never bullied or became belligerent on the court, even while stating his case and standing his ground. He was not always right, but he almost always won the argument, and he did it without making anyone mad.”

Coming back to Governor Romney, he indeed made several of the points that helped him win the first debate. He articulately listed the string of promises Obama had failed to deliver, and called the president’s records a disaster. Unfortunately, his plans for cutting the deficit were seriously challenged by one of Obama's most successful lines of attack: “Now, Governor Romney was a very successful investor. If somebody came to you, Governor, with a plan that said, here, I want to spend $7 or $8 trillion, and then we’re going to pay for it, but we can’t tell you until maybe after the election how we’re going to do it, you wouldn’t take such a sketchy deal and neither should you, the American people, because the math doesn’t add up.”

More importantly, the Governor’s arguments lost the touch of brilliance they carried in the first debate. For obvious reasons, Romney has put all his eggs in one basket, and the economy was nearly the only thing he is here to fix. Even about the economy, his best arguments seemed to involve nothing more than spouting endless numbers that show the economic performance he wished to achieve. It is doubtful if anyone understood the singnicance of these numbers, let alone the likelihood of their achievement. 

  

Second the Governor appeared out of touch, and indeed insensible to the subtleties of social policy in most areas other than the economy. The way he answered questions regarding women’s rights was not formative policy wise. The awkward statement about the binder full of women soon became more memorable than any other useful thing he said. 

I could clearly feel my preferences shifting back to Obama after this debate, revealing the power of debates in changing minds. Indeed Romney has managed to erase any gaps he had with Obama since his successful first debate. The success of Obama’s second debate seemed to have small if any effect on the polls. Apart from the Gallop poll that shows Romney leading by a wide margin, all other polls show that the race is essentially a tie. It seems the presidency will go on unrewarded until election night. As the sudden shift after the first debate showed, Americans can be quite astute at changing their minds and picking a hero in a flash. So perhaps we should remain open for more surprises during the third debate and the remaining few days before the election.

Romney vs. Obama

On Wednesday October 3, 2012 President Obama and Governor Romney were scheduled to make their first presidential debate. I was very much looking forward to this debate. Obama is an eloquent speaker with a great mastery of rhetoric, and Romney was also a very seasoned speaker. Plus they were debating on the state of the economy, which made me more excited about the debate. Unfortunately, I had a deadline 2 days later and I was in the mood to work late. Then again, I convinced myself to lose this night (only to night, I told myself).

This attraction to politics, it is like a curse. Just five years ago, I was not at all interested in these things. I remember getting so much annoyed at a friend of mine who used to fret about such issues. Now I have developed this taste for checking the news, attending the views of the pundits, and sometimes taking my own position.

The first thing I observed when the two candidates started speaking was that Romney was quite energetic, aggressive even, while Obama was in a much laid back position. He even sounded tired and looked sleepy. That was not a good sign for the President.

The first half of the debate, the President was completely dominated. Romney spoke with a great sense of urgency, and he seemed to have a clear idea of what he wanted to communicate and how. He pursued the President, attacking him mercilessly. You might even say he exhibited a superiority demeanor, looking down on the President and presenting him as a naiveté on economic issues (“I've been in business for 25 years; [but] I have no idea what you're talking about.” Responding on the accusation that companies got government subsidies but shipped jobs abroad.)

There is so much on the table related to economic issues that can be thrown against the President. And the Governor did exactly that and with great intensity. Obama’s America has the slowest recovery since the Great Depression, and Romney had no qualms blaming all that on Obama, although in reality the President inherited a collapsing economy. All of a sudden, the President appeared weak, vulnerable, incapable of comprehending the problems surrounding him, and with no clear proposal on how to fix the US economy. And there was no sign of his charm and animation; he instead wore a professional bearing and tried to explain the complexities involved in the problem. He did not appear to have clear and simple answers, and his explanations seemed incomplete and unsatisfying.

In the last half of the debate, the President seemed to gain some footing as he shot some points on his opponent. He rightly pointed out the lack of specificity on the plans of the Governor. The Governor had made an excellent use of his position as the opposition, and Obama’s position as an incumbent. He highlighted all the weaknesses in the policies Obama introduced, and promised to repeal them (the rise of income tax for high income people and larger small businesses; the more than 700 billion USD cuts from Medicaid due to Obamacare; the assignment of too-big-to fail status for a few banks in the Dodd-Frank Act). On the other hand, he pointed out all the strengths in the policies of Obama and promised to keep them (coverage of pre-existing patients on Medicare; strengthening of bank oversight in the Dodd-Frank Act).

But Obama did not pursue Romney as much as he was pursued and attacked.  With some minor exceptions, he never retorted to serious attacks although there were many opportunities. That seemed to some extent intentional, to avoid causing any surprise and unsettle the status quo in which he was leading the Governor with an increasing margin. In any case, he showed some good grace in keeping his cool in spite of the heat he was facing.

That is not to say he was not unnerved though. He was seen a few times pursing his lips, and shifting uncomfortably perhaps as the realization downed on him that the debate was not going as planned. A few times he seemed incapable of grasping the direct, strong attacks that were thrown his way. I later heard a psychological explanation that made sense. Mr. Obama has been in charge of the most powerful office in the world for four years now, and in those years he never had anybody speak out face-to-face against him, and heard no negative remarks spoken personally against him so directly and forcefully. It’s indeed easy to realize that a person can completely adapt to a new environment in a four year time span. And the past four years, it is easy to imagine that the only things that were thrown Obama’s way were accolades (including the Nobel Prize) and appreciation and awe. And now, here you have a man standing before you and belittling you so sharply (“Mr. President, you are entitled to your own airplane, your own house, but not to your own facts.” “But you have been a president for four years now!”).

I think Romney was a clear winner of the debate. There are many things that qualify him as the winner. If we begin with his approach, “He appeared presidential,” as the pundits would put it. This could mean he looked the President as an equal (I would say he actually appeared to look down on him), and he projected the image of himself being a president in a very strong way, so much so that it sometimes felt it couldn’t be otherwise.

Never mind his approach; his plans to fix the economy also involved many strong points. He presented a very convincing if too general and one-sided perspective of the problems facing the US economy, and how to fix them. Obama, on the other hand, seemed more attuned to addressing issues of social justice and state-building from a social perspective, both of which seemed irrelevant today. But those are the issues I will address in my next blog. 

New York

New York -- As described by Barack Obama in "Dreams from My Father"

I knew he was right [that New York was changing me], although I wasn’t sure myself what exactly had happened. In a way, I was confirming Sadik’s estimation of the city’s allure, I suppose; its consequent power to corrupt. With the Wall Street boom, Manhattan was humming, new developments cropping up everywhere; men and women barely out of their twenties already enjoying ridiculous wealth, the fashion merchants fast on their heels. The beauty, the filth, the noise, and the excess, all of it dazzled my senses; there seemed no constraints on originality of lifestyles or the manufacture of desire-a more expensive restaurant, a finer suit of clothes, a more exclusive nightspot, a more beautiful woman, a more potent high.

Uncertain of my ability to steer a course of moderation, fearful of falling into old habits, I took on the temperament if not the convictions of a street corner preacher, prepared to see temptation everywhere, ready to overrun a fragile will.

My reaction was more than just an attempt to curb an excessive appetite, though, or a response to sensory overload.

Beneath the hum, the motion, I was seeing the steady fracturing of the world taking place. I had seen worse poverty in Indonesia and glimpsed the violent mood of inner-city kids in L.A.; I had grown accustomed, everywhere, to suspicion between the races. But whether because of New York’s density or because of its scale, it was only now that I began to grasp the almost mathematical precision with which America’s race and class problems joined; the depth, the ferocity, of resulting tribal wars; the bile that flowed freely not just out on the streets but in the stalls of Columbia’s bathrooms as well, where, no matter how many times the administration tried to paint them over, the walls remained scratched with blunt correspondence between niggers and kikes.

It was as if all middle ground had collapsed, utterly. And nowhere, it seemed, was that collapse more apparent than in the black community I had so lovingly imagined and within which I had hoped to find refuge. I might meet a black friend at his Midtown law firm, and before heading to lunch at the MoMA, I would look out across the city toward the East River from his high-rise office, imagining a satisfactory life for myself-a vocation, a family, a home. Until I noticed that the only other blacks in the office were messengers or clerks, the only other blacks in the museum the bluejacketed security guards who counted the hours before they could catch their train home to Brooklyn or Queens.

I might wander through Harlem-to play on courts. I’d once read about or heard Jesse Jackson make a speech on 125th; or, on a rare Sunday morning, to sit in the back pews of Abyssinian Baptist Church, lifted by the gospel choir’s sweet, sorrowful song-and catch a fleeting glimpse of that thing which I sought. But I had no guide that might show me how to join this troubled world, and when I looked for an apartment there, I found Sugar Hill’s elegant brownstones occupied and out of reach, the few decent rental buildings with ten-year-long waiting lists, so that all that remained were the rows and rows of uninhabitable tenements, in front of which young men counted out their rolls of large bills, and winos slouched and stumbled and wept softly to themselves.

I took all this as a personal affront, a mockery of my tender ambitions-although, when I brought up the subject with people who had lived in New York for a while, I was told there was nothing original about my observations. The city was out of control, they said, the polarization a natural phenomenon, like monsoons or continental drift. Political discussions, the kind that at Occidental had once seemed so intense and purposeful, came to take on the flavor of the socialist conferences I sometimes attended at Cooper Union or the African cultural fairs that took place in Harlem and Brooklyn during the summers-a few of the many diversions New York had to offer, like going to a foreign film or iceskating at Rockefeller Center. With a bit of money, I was free to live like most middle-class blacks in Manhattan, free to choose a motif around which to organize my life, free to patch together a collage of styles, friends, watering holes, political affiliations. I sensed, though, that at some stage-maybe when you had children and decided that you could stay in the city only at the cost of a private school, or when you began takings cabs at night to avoid the subways, or when you decided that you needed a doorman in your apartment building-your choice was irrevocable, the divide was now impassable, and you would find yourself on the side of the line that you’d never intended to be on.

Unwilling to make that choice, I spent a year walking from one end of Manhattan to the other. Like a tourist, I watched the range of human possibility on display, trying to trace out my future in the lives of the people I saw, looking for some opening through which I could reenter.

Fantasea

It is Saturday morning in Brisbane, Australia.

I am lying on a bench in Anzac park. I am a constant visitor of this small park which straddles the Cootha hills and the town’s botanic gardens, two important natural areas in west Brisbane. My room is located just in front of the park. In fact, its proximity to the park is the main reason I decided to rent it. I am studying for my PhD in Old Europe and I’m here for a 3 month-long exchange. My initial preference was to rent a room located in a more convenient place somewhere close to the university campus at St Lucia. When I took this room soon after my arrival, my plan was to stay only for a week until I find a better one. However, when I saw in the next morning this beautiful park shimmering with life and shining with the glorious beauty of nature, I decided to stay longer so I could enjoy morning and evening walks listening to the chiming birds. I felt this would perhaps renew me and make me more in tune with myself and the universe.

The story of me and nature is that of an unrequited love.

The first ten years of my life, which are probably the happiest ones, were spent in the country side of ETHIOPIA. I grew up wandering freely in the wilderness and soaking in the bounties of nature. My parents were teachers in a newly opened rural school, and we lived in a beautiful school compound with pristine surroundings.

Our house was located in the foot of a small hill, and the hill was topped with two large eucalyptus trees. Every morning, I would join the kids living in the school compound (my two siblings, and the 3 kids of the school’s only staffer) to climb up the hill and scurry through the shrubs and bushes that litter the slopes of the hill hunting for butterflies. At the foot of the hill is a small stream that flows during the rainy season. The stream starts in the nearby swamps that grow thick, weight-high grasses. It was very exciting for us to gather and watch the stream in rainy days when the gushing floods overflow its banks and make a thunderous noise out of its usually small waterfall. In other days, the water of the stream is clear and we would go into it trying to catch tadpoles which we called ‘fish’.

Bordering the compound of our school, just a hundred meters from our house, there was a much bigger river that flows through the year. The banks of the river were dotted with dokma trees that generously grew charcoal black berries whenever it is season. The best times of my childhood in my memory are related to my adventures around the river. We would go to the river for swimming and fruit gathering every day. Climbing up the fruit trees was one way we competed among each other. As we grew up, we would go even beyond the river and the school compound into the mountains from which the river originates. These mountains contained more types of wild fruits, and it was quite a thrilling experience to climb them up.

After I started my 5^th grade of school, I was suddenly plucked out of my wild, sweet life and placed in dreary small town full of treacherous and noisy kids. My parents changed school, and there was no way I could stay behind even if I wished to. Not minding the smallness of its scope, mine was no less tragic than Adam’s ‘eviction’ from Eden. It was one of the ugliest changes in my life, and I believe I still suffer from its consequences.

Back in Brisbane.

The morning is probably not the best morning. The sun was not shining, and it is long since the bountiful jacaranda flowers that once brightly decorated the park had fallen. But it has been raining abundantly over night, and every casual observer knows how beautifully plants respond to abundant water. The earth is soaked with water, and the air is damp and wafts of the mixed scent of flowers and soil. The trees in the park, having absorbed so much water, and with their branches still wet with the night-long rain, seem happy and excited. The park seems ready to explode from the excitement of life.  

Lying on the bench, I watched the branches of the tree that towered over me, and the clouds beyond. As I sigh, I feel all my worries and troubles leaving me. I am calm and relaxed. I am full again. If the universe has a personality and could talk to me, I would tell it I am at peace with it. I felt in tune with everything around me.

Just then started the fantasy. The first thing that came to my mind was the appearance of Moses and Elijah to Jesus and his disciples on the mountain tops 2000 years ago. And the thought crossed my mind, it must have been a holy moment like this. Everything beautiful, and exactly in its place. Everyone calm and content. It must have felt so, for otherwise, Peter, Jesus’s disciple, would not have asked him: “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if You wish, I will make three tabernacles here, one for You, and one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” In his own wisdom, the disciple was trying to capture the glory of the moment, put it on hold, frame it, and put it in a place where he won’t lose it. As if a picture would keep alive the life it pictures.

Time indeed is cruel. Moments of completeness - when nothing is lacking and yet nothing remains to be added for – are rare and precious. Completeness would mean an end of the drama of life and existence, for what would be the meaning of effort - of thought and action and movement and planning - when everything is complete and no problem remains to be solved? Indeed such moments, if they occur at all, are as precious as gold. But when they eventually occur, the cruel time takes them away. As if they were ordinary moments. As if they were not the moments that make the whole journey of life worthy of its trouble.

Unfortunately for us, time travels in one direction. It is not something that can be gone through and returned to again, or avoided, as the need may be, or paused, for that matter. At least in this sense space is more forgiving to man. It can be gone through and returned to again. Just like I chose to rent my room here, and I could leave it if I don’t like it. What if it were the same with time? Just as you can park your car in any slot in the parking lot, what if you could park your life in any of the years you lived, or even in any time all men lived? I would certainly park my life in a great moment like this one, and savor the joy of oneness with the universe for eternity.

I was awakened from my fantasy by the increasing noise of the birds’ singing. I don’t know why Australian birds like to take every excuse to sing. If it is a little dark and cloudy, they pretend as if it were dawn and start the whole circus again. And when they sing, they do it as loudly as they could. Before I got used to it, their song used to wake me up every morning.….

Now, as I listened to it, I started to realize that their song makes a certain distinct voice. If you try to spell it, it goes something like: “Errropeeeeaaan….. Errropeeeeaaan….. Errropeeeeaaan….. Errropeeeeaaan….. Errropeeeeaaan….. Errropeeeeaaan…..” and it goes on and on from branch to branch, and from tree to tree. I wondered if the birds were calling out for help. May be they are scared of me. May be they are watching from the top of the tree, and they are suspecting I am some lurking enemy. But again, how would they know I carry a European passport? Even many of my friends don’t know I have changed a passport to make my travel to Down Under easy.

The more I closely listened to their voice, it sounded something quite different. Not exactly as before, but it now it seems to sound more clearly as : “Ittooopiaaan….. Ittooopiaaan….. Ittooopiaaan….. Ittooopiaaan….. Ittooopiaaan….. Ittooopiaaan…..”

Well, there you have the answer. These birds recognize that a foreigner is lurking in their midst. They have identified me as Itopian, it seems, and I am not quite sure if I can dispute that. And I started to listen even more cautiously, this time discerning a quite distinct and different combination of rhythm: “Ittooopiaaan….. Errropeeeeaaan….. Ittooopiaaan….. Errropeeeeaaan….. Ittooopiaaan….. Errropeeeeaaan…..”

As it appears, the birds are in confusion about my identity. And the debate went on and on until I slowly woke up from my ecstasy to the inevitably mundane life. Where was I planning to go this afternoon?

Above: Anzac Park from the window of my room.

What does it take to solve the world’s biggest problem?

The day when Mr. Obama appeared at the joint session of the US Congress to deliver his much-anticipated speech, I arrived very late in my house. I was tired and ready to go to bed (yes, it is already night here in Europe!), but the excitement and clamor on TV kept me awake. So I decided to watch the 30 minutes speech about the US economy. After all, I am a student of economics, and I have enough curiosity to learn what the President of the world’s most powerful economy have to say about… yes about solving the World’s biggest problem. Which happens to be, at this moment, the sick state of the US economy. And Mr. Obama does not disappoint at makes speeches either. (I am not sure if it is a credit for him, because his opponents are increasingly presenting him as a naïve college professor whose only specialty is mastery of words …)

The US economy has been in tatters for years now. The Great Recession that started 3 years ago has left millions of Americans jobless. After spending more than a trillion dollars to ‘stimulate’ the economy, the government has not yet succeeded in reversing the gloomy state of the economy. In fact, many were talking that the US (and by extension also ‘us’) is just sliding into the second phase of what they call a ‘double-dip recession’.

Across the Atlantic, Europe’s economy is even in a more dire situation. Because of the near bankruptcy of the Mediterranean Euro countries, the Euro is in deep trouble. The situation is so gloomy that many are talking about the collapse of the Euro. And I have to confide to you, I myself has considered moving out my small saving from the Euro….

And there he comes, Mr President - preceded by his cabinet- exchanging handshakes and kisses with seemingly everyone in the crowded congress house. I noted that when you are a president everyone, and yes literally everyone, wants to talk to you. It must be a hard business. Do you run the country or exchange handshakes? Make speeches or kiss all those congresswomen? For a moment, I wondered if it is not just a kissing ceremony.

Everyone is curious about what the President has in stock. The economic situation is not just bad; it is also extremely controversial. If you put together the world’s leading economists and ask them to diagnose and fix this crisis, they won’t be able to do it. Which is why it is not solved yet. 

In the beginning of the crisis, everyone agreed with the Democrat’s idea of a stimulus package – that is to say the government’s intervention to step up the economy from the brink of collapse. Three years later, the Republicans argue, and after spending a trillion dollars, the economy is still in tatters. So they recommend cutting back taxes, shrinking the government and reducing the ballooning government deficit. The Democrats think just the opposite. They believe the stimulus was a success because it averted a looming catastrophe. And they add that what the country needs is more government spending. The public debt is large, they contend, but the immediate problem is the state of the economy, not the ballooning debt. The Democrats and Republicans are so divided about the priority between addressing growth and the debt that they nearly led the country into bankruptcy just a few weeks ago. That cost America dearly. Just after the bitter squabble between the two parties ended, S&P downgraded America’s debt rating, claiming that the two parties nearly bankrupted the country and led the world into an economic disaster….

If I were told to be the judge, I would have a hard time because both sides have a point. The economy needs to grow now, so it perhaps deserves more stimulus. And yes the public debt is also already 14 trillion dollars! And something has to be done about that too. The problem is that no one, not a single of the all-too-famous economists, is yet too sure as to which of the two issues should be given a priority. For every argument he makes in favor of one idea, there will be a thousand arguments for its opposite. That is why it is called the World’s Biggest Problem.

And there comes Mr President. He is already on the pulpit now, just in front of the House Speaker John Boehner, who happens to be an arch-enemy Republican, and the Vice President Joe Bidden. Hundreds of congressfolk received him with a standing ovation.

No one is sure what this man will pull out of his hat. On my part, I did not expect much. Considering the deep controversial nature of the problem, I expected a few smart ideas, with pros and cons, and a few hesitant proposals on how to fix the World’s Biggest Problem. And I was sure the Republicans in the congress –including the House Speaker Mr Boehnerwho sat there with a gloomy face– are sure about one thing: they expect no solution from Mr President. They have exactly the opposite idea of what he is to say, whatever that is gonna be. These parties are so divided that I don’t know how they stand each other. I sometimes think it is easier to take the guns and go to the jungle – the African way - than to sit together to ‘agree’ with someone who thinks just the opposite of whatever crosses your mind ….

Then followed the speech. The president detailed his solution for the World’s Biggest Problem. In one very important aspect, the speech was the exact opposite of what I expected. There was a lot of math and economics in it, with some of which I disagreed, but there was something that was exactly the opposite of my expectation.

The president was sure about his answer.

Now, that is striking. Here is the World’s Biggest Problem, about the diagnosis of which even the best economists cannot agree, let alone on its solution, and the president is sure about how to fix it? That is something!

Mr. Obama was in a fired up mood. Delivering his speech in his usual powerful and charming voice, the president made an eloquent and detailed description of his solution. He called it “The American Jobs Act,” or the AJA. Obliviously, the AJA is a meticulously developed proposal, which is reviewed and re-reviewed and consulted with his council of economists multiple times, and most importantly one that takes into account the voices and considerations of the Republicans in the House. But that is not the point. However meticulously you develop your solution, you can never be sure about it when what you are facing is the World’s Biggest Problem.  

That is where I learned My Greatest Lesson. And it goes like this: if there is something called the “World’s Biggest Problem” there also is the “World’s Biggest Solution.” When you think about it, that sentence is almost like saying that there is no such thing as the World’s Biggest Problem because all problems have answers. That was what I learned from Mr. President, not any economics at all.

A famous basketball coach called John Wooden claims to have re-discovered the meaning of the word “Success.” He completely disagrees with the definition in the Webster dictionary for the word, which defines success as getting something others don’t have. He thinks that definition is obsolete. His preferred definition is: “Success is the peace of mind which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you made the effort to become the best that you are capable of becoming.” In other words, the Biggest Solution is the Best Solution You Can Conjure Up. When you think about it, there is no failure according to this definition so long as you did the best. What a rich world, where everyone can be successful!

It seemed to me Mr. Obama has known this definition all along. His attitude for the question was the answer. And it was a big attitude. In his own words: “Man can be as big as he wants to be.” And he wanted to be as big and capable as what it takes to solve the World’s Biggest Problem. And I saw that greatness on tv that late night.

There was one thing the President did not do in his 30 minutes speech. He never emphasized how big the problem was. When he did, it was only to remind the congressfolk that they are greater still. The problem is big, but you are bigger still.

He was so fired up, so inspiring, but at the same time so down-to the earth and meticulous in his math and economics that it was hard not to believe him. Suddenly, I realized that this problem is not big anymore.

That was how I learned the answer to the world’s biggest problem. There is no Big Problem, because we are bigger still.

የተረሳ ግርማ

የተረሳ ግርማ

ባለ ቱባ ታሪክ  -  የሊቃዉንት አንባ   -   ዉዲቷ ሀገሬ

የሚያስባት አጣች  -  ሆነች ያዉሬ ጎሬ::

ናቡከደነጾር

ሳያዘምትባት ጦር

ባቢሎን ሳይመታት

ድል አርጎ አንበርክኮ  -  እጆችዋን ሳይይዛት

እንደ እየሩሳሌም  -  ኦናነት ጸናባት።

ስልጣኔው አልፏል  -  ተረት ወሬ ሆኗል

ግርማዋ ተቀብሮ   -  አሸዋ ዉስጥ አድሮ  -   ትቢያ ተከናንቧል

የኔ እሚላት አጥታ  -  አምዶቿ ፈረሱ

ልጆቿም እንዳባይ  -  ወደ ውጪ ፈሰሱ።

ታህሳስ 1996

አዲሱ አበበ