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Two years on Sep 11th 2003 From The Economist print edition Much has been achieved, but things are now going badly ONE of President George Bush's best phrases, deployed between the atrocities of September 11th and the American invasion of Afghanistan later that year, was that the effort to win the battle that al-Qaeda's suicide hijackers had launched would consist not of one big victory but rather of “the patient accumulation of successes”. Not everyone, either then or during the run-up to the invasion of Iraq last March, agreed that America's behaviour was truly patient. No matter: it was certainly resolute and pretty relentless, and only the churlish or blinkered could deny that successes were indeed being accumulated. Now, however, on the second anniversary of those terrible events in New York, Washington and Pennsylvania, things feel different. “The hapless accumulation of failures” is sounding a more appropriate line. That version would be unfair but, alas, not entirely. September 11th prompted America to embark upon a hugely ambitious project, both to punish terrorism and to bring change to the Arab world and to Central Asia, the areas from which the Islamic terrorists originated, and from the miseries of which their grievances were presumed to arise. Given such ambitions, two years is much too short a period over which to make a firm assessment. But things are not going well. The situation in Iraq, source of the greatest recent controversy, is not a failure, yet also can hardly be counted a success. Since the objective was regime change, not just regime toppling, no triumph can be declared until a durable new regime is in place. And progress towards that is proving decidedly difficult (see article), even if no one sensible expected it to be achieved within a mere four months, nor without opposition. The biggest failure, however, has taken place elsewhere in the Middle East. The resignation of the Palestinian prime minister, Mahmoud Abbas, and the resumption of intense violence between the Israeli army and Palestinian terrorist groups, confirm that Mr Bush's effort to push the two sides back into peace negotiations has failed (see article). Worse still, it has failed in large part because the effort was both weak and unbalanced. Wishful thinking is not a policy It is tempting to say that failure in solving the Arab-Israeli conflict is nothing new, and that some progress has been made. Both points would be correct, but neither is compelling. The toppling of Saddam, the demonstration of American power, the onset of war-weariness in both Palestine and Israel all offered a promising opportunity. Mr Bush appeared to be seizing it when he published his “road map” towards peace that had been agreed with the European Union, Russia and the United Nations, and was endorsed by Arab countries. The progress that it embodied was genuine: the formal acceptance, notably by the United States and the Arab neighbours, of both the need for a sovereign Palestinian state and of Israel's right to exist. Yet almost nothing has been done to move beyond that necessary, but very general, beginning. Neither the Palestinians nor the Israelis have done what the road map demanded: despite a short-lived ceasefire, the Palestinian Authority has not clamped down on terrorist organisations; Israel has not even ceased to build settlements, let alone talk about dismantling them, and when it has removed isolated “illegal outposts” others have sprung up to take their place. Correctly, America has stressed that the Palestinian terror must end, and for that to occur the Palestinian authority must gain the strength and the will to force the terrorists to stop. Its hope was that Mr Abbas would bring about what his unreliable president, Yasser Arafat, would not. But Mr Abbas stood little chance of gaining the political support he needed to be able to challenge terrorist groups unless he could point to a credible prospect that Israel would fulfil its obligations too—and, eventually, that it would withdraw from the occupied territories. Instead, Israel insisted that fulfilment must happen in sequence, not in parallel. That desire is understandable, but self-defeating. If the plan was to work, Mr Bush needed to persuade Ariel Sharon, Israel's prime minister, to display clearly his intention to meet the road map's demands—such as by stopping settlement-building or re-routing the security fence being built around Palestinian territories so that it did not look like a land grab. Yet all Mr Bush did was to describe the fence as “a problem”. The White House seems to have had a blind faith that Mr Abbas would make enough progress to convince Mr Sharon to respond. Only last Wednesday a senior administration official told The Economist that Mr Arafat was a man of the past and Mr Abbas the man of the future. For three days, it was correct. The wider battle To a degree, the Arab-Israeli conflict can be considered as in a world of its own. But failure to make progress there also damages America's wider effort, in Iraq and beyond. For the manner in which it has happened has reinforced one of the most damaging accusations levelled by Muslim critics: that America has double standards. That, in turn, risks reinforcing one of America's biggest failures in the past two years: that it has become even more unpopular in Muslim countries than before. Given that Osama bin Laden declared his holy war against “Jews and Crusaders” in the name of Islam, and seemed to renew it this week in a video, it should be no surprise that the deepest rift to have opened up since September 11th is that between America and the world's Muslims. It may be that this was Mr bin Laden's plan: to revive the idea that Islam and the West are doomed to collide and make the idea into a self-fulfilling prophecy. If so, a case can be made two years on that his plan has so far worked rather well. And yet it is not a plan that is pre-ordained to succeed. For it is based on a caricature. Islam and the West are both such fuzzy abstractions that the idea of a coming “civilisational” collision between them melts away when on closer inspection. As we argue in our survey of Islam and the West in this issue, the Islamic world is no monolith: it is complex, diverse and argumentative. Muslim countries do not behave as a united power block. Millions of Muslims live in the West and many western ideas have penetrated deep into Islam, arousing a strong appetite among most Muslims for democracy, civil rights and “modernity” in general. This has indeed caused a collision of a sort: there are Muslims who say vehemently that such ideas are alien imports, leading Islam astray from its true path. But the faith is invoked on both sides of this quarrel, by Islam's democrats and modernisers as well as by its autocrats and traditionalists. This is at bottom a fight within Islam, not a fight between Islam and the West. That point makes America's plan to build a democratic regime in Iraq crucially important, but also defines its limits. The change of course that Mr Bush signalled last week when he proposed a new resolution at the UN that would request the Iraqi Governing Council to set a timetable and procedure for taking over power and holding elections was a step in the right direction; so was his request for a lot more money from Congress. Other countries may demand that the UN should be given an even bigger role in directly supervising that process. Even more than that, though, the Governing Council needs to be given the power to do what is required of it as well as the consequent ability to gain domestic legitimacy in addition to international recognition. Success can still be had, for Iraqis want self-government, and democracy is their best hope to get it; the real question in Iraq is whether a sovereign government can be built to endure. For that reason, it makes no sense to talk of an American “exit strategy” from Iraq; albeit under a UN umbrella, America will have to stay to make endurance likelier. But it also makes no sense to talk, as some Americans do, of then pressuring other Muslim countries to adopt democracy. September 11th was not a licence to try to impose American choices on everyone else. To do that would risk intensifying the very conflict that the terrorists presumably hoped to provoke on that murderous day two long years ago. (R:211.150.247.102)

Cool Jay：《时代》专访周杰伦 His teacher thought he was dumb. Idolmakers thought he was ugly. But Jay Chou has become Asia's hottest pop star By Kate Drake Taipei Before the satin bedsheets and Ducati motorcycles, before the screaming groupies fainting at his shows and the teenage girls making pilgrimages to stroke his piano bench, there was this narrow stretch of blond floorboard between the leather sofa and the teal walls of Alfa Music's studio in a gray, concrete high-rise in eastern Taipei. This was Jay Chou Chieh-lun's world back then, a crawl space where he would curl up and crash between sessions, where he would dream and then redream his melodies and lyrics, where the songs would come to him as snatches of somnambulant soundtrack, and then he would rouse himself, stumble over to the keyboards and transpose those nocturnal audioscapes onto music sheets and demo tapes. For nearly two years Chou worked as a $600-a-song contract composer and rarely left that seventh-floor soundproof chamber where he cranked out melodies for less-talented, better-looking sing-ers. He would write out the verses, the chorus, scratch the lyrics down on the back of a takeaway menu and then, exhausted by the work, by the unburdening of his musical subconscious, he would go back to sleep among the dust bunnies to conjure up another hit. Subsisting on ramen and fried chicken, he dreamed not of being a pop star but of making music. The Beatles had the Cavern Club, Elvis had Sun Studios, the Sex Pistols had the 100 Club; for Chou, this studio was his musical proving ground, where he tried out his ideas, tested theories of what made a hit, worked out how to structure a song and make it memorable and soulful and where—rare for a budding Mando- or Canto-pop star—he came to understand that it was the music that mattered, more than the looks and the moves and the image. He saw them come and go, pretty boys who could barely carry a tune, divas who had the attitude but not the talent, boy bands whose members were chosen for their dance steps instead of their voice chops. He saw that what made a performer memorable—what could make him, Jay Chou, special—were the songs themselves. And that, in the music biz as it's practiced from Taipei to Hong Kong to Singapore, was a novel idea. In the cynical, insta-pop industry of prepackaged icons that dominates greater China, it is a wonder that Jay Chou the anti-idol, now 24, exists at all. Male Canto- and Mando-pop stars are supposed to be born with connections, grow up with money and emerge in adolescence as lithe, androgynous pinups, prefabricated and machine-tooled for one-hit wonderdom and, if they're lucky, lucrative B-movie careers and shampoo commercials. How did a kid with an overbite, aquiline nose and receding chin displace the Nicholases and Andys and Jackys to become Asia's hottest pop star? The explanation starts somewhere back in that stuffy studio, with the discipline and the songs and the revolutionary idea that the music actually matters. "Even when my female fans approach me, they don't tell me that I'm handsome," Chou explains. "They tell me they like my music. It's my music that has charmed them." Since the release of his debut album, Jay, in November 2000—10 brooding, soulful, surprisingly sensual ballads and quiet pop tunes delivered with a poise that would make Craig David stand up and take notice—Jay Chou's music has ruled, and may be transforming, the Asian pop universe. Although he sings and raps only in Mandarin, Chou's CDs routinely go double or triple platinum, not only in his native Taiwan but also in mainland China, Hong Kong, Malaysia and Singapore. Recently he was voted Favorite Artist Taiwan at MTV's Asian Music Awards, adding to a haul of more than 30 entertainment-industry honors he has won in the past two years. The Hong Kong media has anointed him a "small, heavenly King" (though Chou insists he hates the title). He recently played the MGM Grand Garden Arena in Las Vegas to an audience of more than 10,000. Major companies have come calling for his endorsement, from Pepsi in China to pccw in Hong Kong. Panasonic has even stamped his profile on one of its cellular phone models—a high compliment in mobile-mad Asia even greater than being known as diminutive celestial royalty. As a boy, Chou was called retarded. Stupid. Yu tsun. Ellen Hsu, his high school English teacher, figured Chou had a learning disability: "He had very few facial expressions; I thought he was dumb." The kid couldn't focus on math, science, didn't bother with his English homework. But his mother, Yeh Hui-mei, noticed that the quiet, shy boy seemed to practically vibrate when he heard the Western pop music she used to play. "He was sensitive to music before he could walk," she recalls. Yeh enrolled him in piano school when he was four. And the kid could play. He practiced like a fiend, focusing on the keys the way other children his age focused on a scoop of ice cream. By the time he was a teen, he had developed a knack for improvisation way beyond his years. "One time he sat down and started playing the Taiwanese national anthem," says his high school piano teacher Charles Chen. "It's usually very solemn but Chou was riffing and turned it into an interesting piece of music, one that sounded like a pop song." Outside the practice room, Chou was stubbornly average, caught up in the same kung fu movies and video games as the rest of the suburban teens who played baseball around Linkou's ferroconcrete housing blocks. While other kids were cramming for the joint-college-entrance exam, Chou was skipping school and putting in more time on the ivories. The kid looked like he was going nowhere. Music? If you are middle-class and Taiwanese, math, science, engineering, computer programming—that's how you make a living. But music? That was for rich kids with famous parents, who grow up with silver chopsticks in their mouths. Not kids from Linkou. Not Chou. He flunked his exam and was about to be disgorged into the real world, a gawky kid stumbling toward a future pumping gas or maybe, if he was lucky, helping you pick out a new Yamaha upright and then sitting down at the bench and completing the sale by playing a few bars for you. But the music, remember, is all that matters in Chou's life. It saves him. It defines him. It's his salvation, his luck. It's the only thing he has. It interceded even when Chou himself had wandered off course, when Chou didn't yet know the true value of his harmonic birthright. Some girl, a junior—Chou barely knew her—filled out an application for Chao Ji Xin Ren Wang (Super New Talent King), Taiwan's version of American Idol. The show's staff got in touch with a surprised Chou and asked if he would perform. No way. Not solo. He ended up playing piano, accompanying an aspiring singer. And they stunk. The show's host, legendary Taipei funnyman and all-around entertainment impresario Jacky Wu, was always on the prowl for new talent, but he took one look at the nervous kid at the piano and the croaking vocalist and thought, forget it, back to the burbs for this duo. "I really wasn't impressed," says Wu. "The friend's singing was lousy." Then he saw the music. "I took a look at the musical score over the judge's shoulder and I was amazed. It was complex and very well done." After the taping, Wu, who at that time owned Alfa Music, headed backstage to meet Chou, who was wearing a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes. "My first impression of Jay was that he was so shy, so quiet," Wu recalls. "I thought he was retarded." But Wu was swayed by the music. He had seen dozens of sneering pretty boys with slicked-back hair who could barely read a high C, and here was this shy, awkward pianist who seemed like he could scrawl a symphony in his sleep. Wu would do more than write him his first checks as a songwriter—he would also inadvertently give the kid a place to crash between hits, would allow this suburbanite to turn an unused space behind a sofa into a miniature pop-music factory as he wrote tunes for late-'90s acts such as PowerStation and Taiwan-ese diva Valen Hsu. "Jacky is like my elder brother," says Chou. "He taught me how to be an artist, to be professional and to be dedicated to my career." But Chou was doing more than transcribing catchy little ditties at six bills a pop (hit)—he was inadvertently helping to define a sound, an emerging Taiwanese pop presence and style that would, within three years, transform the island into the epicenter of Chinese pop. But the master still doubted his apprentice could be more than a songwriter. "I didn't think Chou could make it as an entertainer," Wu admits, "because he's not so handsome." It wasn't until Wu handed over the reins of Alfa Music to his friend and fellow singer J.R. Yang nearly a year-and-a-half later that Chou would go from being idol-maker to idol. "I asked him if he'd written anything for himself," Yang explains. Chou played him Ke Ai Nu Ren (Lovely Woman), a song he had already recorded on borrowed time—hanging around the studio 24-7 did have its advantages. "After four minutes the song finished, and I asked, 'What are we waiting for?'" The kid was living in the studio anyway. Recording the first album in three months was practically a vacation. Chou kicks back on that leather sofa today, wearing an off-white wool cap pulled low over his brooding, brown eyes, and a black velour tracksuit. He went from being studio geek to pop star overnight, almost too quickly, and he carries the emotional and psychological vestments of that fame and success uneasily. He's all straight answers, monosyllabic responses, yes ma'ams and no ma'ams. Grunts. Nods. Evasive eye rolls. Where is the smoldering sexuality and boy-misses-girl pathos, the mannish lad who gives his soul ballads depth and feeling? Then he begins talking about the music, and you remember, yes, the music. Take that away and you're left with this slab of a boy who looks like he wants to climb back over that sofa and hunker down in his old, creative lair. My music, he explains, my music should be like magic. It should have variety. It should be ephemeral, changing, evolving. He goes off on musical theory and Chopin and how the cello is different from the violin and Chinese five-tone versus Western 12-tone melodies. "It's my magic," he says again, shaking his head, looking at you all earnest and sincere as if he needs you to understand. And then he opens up, revealing his yearning to find a girlfriend, his own shyness that has him growing his hair long over his eyes so he isn't distracted by his fans' staring. Finally, he leans in close: "Let me tell you about diao." Diao is a Taiwanese slang usually translated as "cool" or "outrageous." It literally means "penis." "It's my personal philosophy," he explains, "but it has nothing to do with religion. It means that whatever you do, you don't try to follow others. Go your own way, you know?" He sits back, shakes his hair out of his eyes and nods. This is serious. This is deep. This is the metaphysical mechanism that he feels explains his pop stardom, as opposed to his musical talent. "It's like, the ability to shock. The way I think of shocking people is to do things that people don't expect in my music, in my performances. Like during my first Taipei show last year, I was performing Long Quan (Dragon Fist) [Chou's favorite tune from his Eight Dimensions CD] and I took off on a harness and flew out over the audience. That was diao." Diao is an internal process, a mystical path that makes extreme demands and forces stringent measures. It requires, mysteriously, that Chou forgo wearing underwear, a lifestyle choice that is endlessly vexing to his mother. "He used to wear underwear as a child," she sighs. "Maybe it is something he started since working with Jacky Wu." Chou himself will not elaborate. The diao that can be spoken of, apparently, is not the eternal diao. The diao, of course, has made him wealthy, a millionaire, but he insists all that is a distraction. His mother manages his huge income. His managers run his business and take care of his lucrative endorsements. Though Alfa Music has given him a tony, Taipei bachelor pad, Chou prefers living at home with mom in his childhood bedroom with its single mattress, gray sheets and royal blue walls. Ignore, for a moment, the complimentary Pepsi fridge with Chou's likeness molded on the door and the dozens of music trophies and awards, and it's a typical boy's room. And his home, despite his parents' divorce when he was 14, was, he insists, a happy place. But then where, if he had a contented childhood and then a quick apprenticeship as contract songwriter, did the sadness and pathos that could inform a precocious, soulful R. and B. singer come from? How could a happy kid write lyrics about a drunken father who beats his wife and child as he does on Ba Wo Hui Lai Le (Dad, I Have Come Back), a jilted lover on the brink of suicide as on Shi Jie Mo Ri (End of the World)? "I hear stories and I use them," he shrugs. "I make them up. I go to see a movie or look at the elements of a music video." Chou is a sponge when it comes to music, absorbing styles and trends and then seamlessly incorporating them into his Oriental-flavored R. and B. "He mixes Western instruments with Chinese instruments, like the di (Chinese flute) and the three-string sanxian," explains Chou's friend and fellow musician Rex Jan. "He's also adopted Chinese five-tone melodies as opposed to Western ones." It's not as if Chou introduced R. and B. to the region—David Tao and Wang Lee Hom have both been around for a while—but it wasn't until Chou's debut that waves of Mando-rappers and crooning R. and B. singers took over MTV Taiwan. "Chou is definitely setting musical trends," says Hong Kong-based Ming Pao Weekly music critic Fung Lai-chi. His success as a singer-songwriter has already inspired dozens of imitators eager to achieve a similar mixture of street cred and sales sizzle. "The trend is toward more singer-songwriters," says Mark Lankester, managing director of Warner Music Hong Kong. It seems every pretty boy with a guitar is taking up composing; even Canto-pop bad boy Nicholas Tse is now scribbling his own tunes. And then there's Anson Hu, Hong Kong's junior soul man who recently won Best New Artist at the Commercial Radio awards ceremony. "He's copying Jay," says Fung. "He's even being called the new 'Chinese Jay.'" What makes Chou's music successful, and distinctive from all the boys who would be Jay, is that when he sings that he is hurting or yearning or that he needs you so bad, you believe him. His delivery is Boyz II Men-smooth, and he hits those notes with a conviction born of having proved himself as a songwriter. Remember, he spent nearly two years in that studio watching and hearing what worked and what didn't, and the results of that dues paying are a confidence and a swagger that comes across on disc. On CDs like Jay, Fantasy Life and Eight Dimensions, you're listening to a man who believes in the musical choices he is making, who knows he is right. He is not singing what some manager in an office somewhere has told him will be a hit; he is singing his heart out, right now, for you. Chou wants the ball. He's a hoops fiend, and he swears that the only two places he's comfortable are in the studio and on the basketball court. He takes a break from the 64-track and heads out to Taipei's Ta An Park, where he and a few friends have a regular game. It's concrete-court, no-holds-barred pickup—tall guys banging under the rim, small guys at the top or on the wing. Everyone launching jumpers. The only pass anyone wants to make is the one to inbound the ball. But even here Chou seems different. John Stockton-skinny with mad dribbles, he's a point guard among other players, who, no matter where they are on the court, seem perpetually out of position. The game, even at this level, flows through him. He hits open threes, makes behind-the-back dribbles to the rack for easy layups. Chou knows exactly what he wants to do with the ball. So there's this, too. You see it when he plays. He's a control freak. That's why he doesn't like interviews or awards ceremonies, why he's shy and awkward around his fans, because he doesn't know how to control those settings. But on the court, in the studio, he's the show runner. No other ethnic-Chinese idol enjoys the level of artistic and creative control over his or her albums and videos that Chou does. According to those who work with him, Chou knows exactly what he wants when it comes to his sound, and he is relentless about achieving it. In order to write one of his hits, Shuan Ji Gun (Nunchaku), he actually taught himself to use the martial art weapon and then appeared with it in the video. Kuang Sheng, who has directed the majority of Chou's videos, says he follows the star's instructions: "Chou has more control than other artists over his own videos. And over time, he is only becoming more controlling." A month later and Chou is lounging in a swanky Chinese restaurant after his packed-house performance at the MGM Grand. Still wearing his sweaty tank top and carefully scuffed jeans, he seems contemplative, as if he is finally impressed by the enormity of his own achievements. There are a few more worlds for this show-biz Alexander to conquer: TV, movies, going global and hitting the U.S. charts. But Chou seems indifferent to learning English, unconcerned with the producers who beseech him to make a film and, finally, more comfortable and less anxious with the demands of his celebrity. He is growing into the role now, his diao, apparently, has taken him this far and he has learned to trust it. There will be enormous demands placed on this 24-year-old, forces of commerce tugging at him to do this commercial, that magazine shoot, this action picture. Kung fu master or rogue cop? R. and B. or hip-hop? Nike or Adidas? He shakes his head. The first thing he's going to do is head back to that Taipei studio, to that little nook behind the sofa, where he will lie back, take a nap, and dream up a few more tunes. —With reporting by Joyce Huang/Taipei (R:211.150.255.223)

《经济学人》：布什连任 前途艰难 SELDOM has a presidency seen so many changes of fortune. George Bush came to the White House as the “accidental president”, the victor by the narrowest of margins in a disputed election. But in his first 100 days he proceeded to govern as a radical conservative, pushing through an enormous tax cut and education reform at home, and dispensing with the Kyoto protocol, the anti-ballistic missile treaty and much else abroad. The rightward surge of the “Toxic Texan” seemed to stall when the defection of a moderate Republican senator, Jim Jeffords, handed the Senate to the Democrats. Two years ago, on the morning of September 11th, Mr Bush was to be found engaged in one of the classic pastimes of a low-drive president, reading to schoolchildren in Florida. In the wake of the terrorist attacks, America and the world rallied around Mr Bush. Once again he proved to be a much more radical and divisive figure than many expected. Brandishing new theories of pre-emptive military force, he showed an intent not just to eradicate America's enemies but to refashion the Middle East. The Iraq war aroused fears in Europe that the accidental president had become an imperial one. Meanwhile, at home, Mr Bush exploited his sky-high approval ratings to push through yet more tax cuts and to engineer a dazzling success in last year's mid-term elections. The talk in the spring was that Mr Bush had ushered in a new period of Republican supremacy at all levels of government. Now, suddenly, the wheel seems to be turning again. Amidst worries about the deepening quagmire in Iraq and a persistently jobless recovery, Mr Bush's approval ratings have sagged to their level of two years ago . In recent polls, a majority of Americans have said they would prefer to see somebody else in the White House. The Democratic presidential candidates are up and running, suddenly confident that the imperial president will actually be a one-term president, just as his father was. Mr Bush is probably in better shape than he appears—and not just because there are 422 days to the election. He will go into that contest with more money than ever and with the firm support of conservative America, something his father never had. Yet his hold on the White House will continue to be in doubt as long as he fails to get results in two areas: Iraq and the economy. In both cases, he would do well to reassess his policies. The two issues, different as they may be, betray something of a pattern: an initial commitment to bold solutions, severely undermined by reluctance to follow through. Desert sands This newspaper was an adamant supporter of the Iraq war. Mr Bush's presentation of the case for that war was by no means perfect: for instance, he exaggerated the link between Saddam Hussein and al-Qaeda. But to our mind his casus belli still stands, despite the failure so far to find weapons of mass destruction. After 12 years of intransigence at the United Nations, it was right to call Saddam's bluff, even if bluff is all it turns out to have been. Saddam's removal is an enormous prize. Mr Bush's repeated promises to rebuild Iraq were welcome too—but, as in Afghanistan, there has been a gap between what America has pledged and what it is doing. The current mess stems from the Pentagon's insistence that the United States should run post-war Iraq, as it ran the war, on its own (with minor help from one or two loyal allies) and with a relatively small army trained to wage war, not rebuild countries. This notion was always fanciful. Now the full peril of doing Iraq on the cheap has been underlined by two ghastly atrocities: the attack on the United Nations building in Baghdad, which has driven most international relief agencies, including the UN, out of Iraq; and the Najaf bomb, which last week killed Ayatollah Muhammad Baqer al-Hakim along with 100 or so others, further alienating Iraq's majority Shias. The biggest part of the answer is simple enough. America needs to commit more troops and particularly more money to Iraq. Why on earth can't the world's richest country ensure that Baghdad has water and electricity? Is it really good enough that it will take five years to train Iraqi policemen? Committing more resources to Iraq is not “mission creep”. The gamble that the Pentagon could transform peacekeeping as it has transformed warfare, and do it with fewer troops, has failed. America must either send more troops of its own, or look for outside help. Mr Bush now appears to agree—hence his renewed if belated overtures to the UN . On second thoughts Anybody who argues for bringing in more outside help must admit that the UN cannot solve everything; the ghastly bomb in Baghdad made that clear. But America badly needs to make the foreigners in Iraq seem less like an army of occupation and more like something akin to an aid mission. It would have been better if Mr Bush had managed to persuade his truculent allies to “multinationalise” the rebuilding of Iraq much earlier. He is right to resume those efforts now, even if this means yielding a little power in the process, and he must ensure that the efforts succeed. The proposal being debated as The Economist went to press is for America's troops to be augmented by a UN-blessed multinational force led by an American commander. At the same time, the Iraqi Governing Council would be asked to submit to the UN a plan for a new constitution and elections. This part is crucial. For all its faults, the UN is well experienced in helping “post-conflict countries” to reform their systems of justice and governance, and move towards democracy. The current American-appointed council lacks both authority and political legitimacy. Iraq will be properly secure only when its government is run by Iraqi politicians and its streets are policed by Iraqi policemen. More money for Iraq will make Mr Bush nervous. The economy still represents a bigger challenge to his hopes of re-election than Iraq. It confronts the administration with two sets of problems. First, the recovery is failing even now to expand employment. Second, the government's finances are in disarray. The problem is, greater outlays on post-war reconstruction add to Mr Bush's fiscal difficulties. So far as the recovery is concerned, the president has no choice but to be patient. The deficit forbids further tax cuts and, with interest rates at 1%, the Federal Reserve has little room to ease monetary policy any more. Most of the danger for Mr Bush will come if he tries too hard. In particular, he needs to renounce the lure of protectionism, which he succumbed to 18 months ago when he brought in steel tariffs in a craven attempt to shore up votes in rust-belt states. When it comes to public finance, the president is more culpable. It makes sense to run a deficit in a slump; and it also makes sense to cut taxes, particularly if you try to move the burden from investment to consumption. But Mr Bush has failed to curb public spending. And he has done virtually nothing to prepare the government for the longer-term problem of the retiring generation of baby-boomers. Promoting the privatisation of Social Security as part of his next presidential campaign would be a step in the right direction; but a firmer message could be sent earlier by vetoing two wasteful bills soon likely to emerge from Congress, a pretence at Medicare reform and a pork-laden energy bill. The bold and the dull A strange symmetry exists between Mr Bush's challenges at home and abroad. In both cases he took a brave, decisive step—by invading Iraq in the first and by cutting taxes in the other. But then he has failed to get down to the humdrum stuff that must follow: ensuring that the sewage systems work in Mosul, say, or stripping the energy bill of wasteful subsidies. Efforts of that sort capture few instant headlines, no doubt, but it is in such humble grunt-work that presidencies—accidental or imperial—are won or lost. This one will be no exception. (R:211.150.255.223)

保罗·克鲁格曼：中国综合症 The China Syndrome By PAUL KRUGMAN A funny thing happened this week: the Bush administration, with its aggressive unilateralism, and its contempt for diplomacy and international institutions, suddenly staked its fortunes on the kindness of foreigners. All the world knows about the Iraq about-face: having squandered our military strength in a war he felt like fighting even though it had nothing to do with terrorism, President Bush is now begging the cheese-eaters and chocolate-makers to rescue him. What may not be equally obvious is that he's doing the same thing on the economic front. Having squandered his room for economic maneuver on tax cuts that pleased his party base but had nothing to do with job creation, Mr. Bush is now asking China to help him out. Not, of course, that Mr. Bush admits to having made any mistakes. Indeed, Mr. Bush seems to have a serious case of "l'at, c'est moi": he impugns the patriotism of anyone who questions his decisions. If you ask why he diverted resources away from hunting Al Qaeda, which attacked us, to invading Iraq, which didn't, he suggests that you're weak on national security. And it's the same for anyone who questions his economic record: "They tell me it was a shallow recession," he said Monday. "It was a shallow recession because of the tax relief. Some say, well, maybe the recession should have been deeper. That bothers me when people say that." That is, if you ask why he pushed long-term tax cuts rather than focusing on job creation, he says you wanted a deeper recession. It bothers me when he says that. Of course, nobody says the recession should have been deeper. What critics argued ?correctly ?was that Mr. Bush's economic strategy of tax cuts for the rich, with a few token breaks for the middle class, would generate maximum deficits but minimum stimulus. "They" may tell him it was a shallow recession, but the long-term unemployed won't agree. And the fact that even with all that red ink the recovery is still jobless should lead him to wonder whether he's running the wrong kind of deficits. Instead, however, he's decided to plead with the Chinese for help. Admittedly, it didn't sound like pleading. It sounded as if he was being tough: "We expect there to be a fair playing field when it comes to trade. . . . And we intend to keep the rules fair." Everyone understood this to be a reference to the yuan, China's supposedly undervalued currency, which some business groups claim is a major problem for American companies. By the way, even if the Chinese did accede to U.S. demands to increase the value of the yuan, it wouldn't have much effect unless it was a huge revaluation. And China won't agree to a huge revaluation because its huge trade surplus with the U.S. is largely offset by trade deficits with other countries. Still, even a modest currency shift by Beijing would allow Mr. Bush to say that he was doing something about the loss of manufacturing jobs other than appointing a "jobs czar." And so John Snow, the Treasury secretary, went off to Beijing to request an increase in the yuan's value. But he got no satisfaction. A quick look at the situation reveals one reason why: the U.S. currently has very little leverage over China. Mr. Bush needs China's help to deal with North Korea ?another crisis that was allowed to fester while the administration focused on Iraq. Furthermore, purchases of Treasury bills by China's central bank are one of the main ways the U.S. finances its trade deficit. Nobody is quite sure what would happen if the Chinese suddenly switched to, say, euros ?a two-point jump in mortgage rates? ?but it's not an experiment anyone wants to try. There may also be another reason. The Chinese remember very well that in Mr. Bush's first few months in office, his officials described China as a "strategic competitor" ?indeed, they seemed to be seeking a new cold war until terrorism came along as a better issue. So Mr. Bush may find it as hard to get help from China as from the nations those same officials ridiculed as "old Europe." Sic transit and all that. Just four months after Operation Flight Suit, the superpower has become a supplicant to nations it used to insult. Mission accomplished! (R:211.150.251.81)

《阿根廷，请别为我哭泣》歌词与译文 Don't cry for me Argentina It won't be easy, you'll think it strange When I try to explain how I feel That I still need your love after all that I've done You won't believe me All you will see is a girl you once knew Although she's dressed up to the nines At sixes and sevens with you I had to let it happen, I had to change Couldn't stay all my life down at heel Looking out of the window, staying out of the sun So I choose freedom Running around, trying everything new But nothing impressed me at all I never expected it to Don't cry for me Argentina The truth is I never left you All through my wild days My mad existence I kept my promise Don't keep your distance And as for fortune, and as for fame I never invited them in Though it seems to the world they were all I desired They are illusions They're not the solutions they promised to be The answer was here all the time I love you and hope you love me Don't cry for me Argentina Don't cry for me Argentina The truth is I never left you All through my wild days My mad existence I kept my promise Don't keep your distance Have I said too much? There's nothing more I can think of to say to you But all you have to do is look at me To know that every word is true 我细诉心底话 大家都会惊讶 过去曾经犯错 盼你们仍爱我 在你们眼中的 是当年旧相识 尽管锦衣绣袍 但却乱七八糟 情非得已 只好如此 我想变更一下 不想久居人下 当年眺望窗外 难见骄阳姿采 于是争取自由 力求创出新献 一切无足轻重 早在意料之中 阿根廷，别为我泪盈盈 说句心里话 我从未离开过大家 即使当年任性堕落 我仍遵守承诺 请勿与我隔膜 名名利利 我从不希冀 世人以为我热衷名和利 名利如水中月 难把问题解决 解决之道 早在这里为你铺好 我对你们好 亦希望得到回报 阿根廷，别为我泪盈盈 阿根廷，别为我泪盈盈 说句心里话 我从未离开过大家 即使当年任性堕落 我仍遵守承诺 请勿与我隔膜 我是否喋喋不休 我已欲语无言 你们只要凝望我一眼 就知道我句句是心里话 (R:211.150.250.74)

为什么自由的东欧落后于不自由的中国? 《纽约时报》，2003年8月29日，NICHOLAS D. KRISTOF Freedom's in 2nd Place? KARAPCHIV, Ukraine - This is the story of two villages, half a world apart. One is this hamlet in southern Ukraine, where my roots lie. The other is my wife's ancestral village, in the Taishan area of Guangdong Province in southern China. In the late 1980's and early 1990's, the two countries took diametrically opposite paths. Ukraine and most other constituents of the deceased Soviet Union giddily held presidential elections and pronounced themselves democracies, while China massacred protesters demanding more freedom and democracy. I wish I could say that free elections pay better dividends than massacres. But, although it hurts to say so, in this case it looks the other way around. Here in Karapchiv, villagers are reasonably free to say what they like about their leaders, but Ukraine is further than ever from having the broad middle class that normally sustains a healthy democracy. There are no jobs, some peasants spend their entire day leading a cow around on a rope to graze, and Karapchiv lacks any factory to take advantage of labor that can cost as little as $1 a day. In contrast, my wife's village is bustling, along with the rest of Guangdong. Factories have sprouted everywhere, and teenagers brandish cellphones the way they used to wave Mao's "Little Red Book." Since 1989, when the Soviet Union opened fire on Communism and China opened fire on its citizens, China's economy has tripled in size - and Ukraine's has shrunk by half. Even in Russia, according to Izvestia, 40 percent of the people can't afford toothpaste; in Karapchiv, many can't afford toilet paper and make do with newspapers (which to me seems sacrilegious). Meanwhile, prospering China has become a global center for cosmetic surgery. I was as outraged as anyone that Chinese troops massacred hundreds of protesters to destroy the Tiananmen democracy movement. But China's long economic boom has cut child mortality rates so much since 1990 that an additional 195,000 children under the age of 5 survive each year. Does this mean that the Chinese are better off for having had their students shot? No, of course not. But it does mean that authoritarian orderliness is sometimes more conducive to economic growth than democratic chaos. For example, two of the nastiest and least reformed countries in the former Soviet empire are Belarus and Uzbekistan. As an excellent (and somewhat rueful) World Bank report on the ex-Soviet Union's first decade notes, those are also the two countries that best weathered the post-Communist recessions. As I compare Karapchiv with my wife's village, though, it seems to me that the best explanation for the different paths of China and the former Soviet Union is not policy but culture. I'm sure I'll regret saying this, but there really is something to the caricature that if you put two Americans in a room together, they'll sue each other; put two Japanese in a room together, and they'll start apologizing to each other; two Chinese will do business; and two Ukrainians or Russians will sit down over a bottle of liquor. The moment the Chinese government began to debate the future of the communes more than two decades ago, peasants in Guangdong took matters into their own hands and divided up the land to farm their own plots. In contrast, even today the old Kristof farmland in Karapchiv is still part of a state farm, run by Petro Makarchuk, an amiable director in a white shirt over a potbelly; he still insists that state farms are the way to go. Most farmers in Karapchiv do now farm their own plots, but some, like Vasyl Hutsul, have remained in the local collective farm. "I'm just waiting for my retirement pension," he explained, with a lassitude and complacency that one rarely sees in Guangdong. Our old family home is now a school, and the principal, Anatoly Marianchuk, fretted about the lack of initiative to start new capitalist ventures. "It's a question of psychology," he said moodily. "The old system is breaking down, but slowly." Ultimately, after my visit here, I still don't feel I fully understand why China has done so well and the former Soviet Union so poorly. But I am filled with one overpowering emotion: I'm so grateful to my father, and to my wife's grandparents, for leaving behind all that was familiar to them in two villages half a world apart, and thus bequeathing us the gift of America. (R:211.150.250.186)

GQ, Under a New Editor, Is Not Quite So Coiffed By DAVID CARR historically, the GQ man has been a suave sort, a man who not only looks good in a suit but also has the kind of career and disposable assets that go with it. The GQ man is bold without being crude, sexy without being salacious, and witty without being puerile. The traditional GQ ideal would be a mythical combination of George Clooney and Frank Sinatra. How out of character, then, for the September cover of GQ magazine to feature Johnny Knoxville, the former star of "Jackass," a television show that canonized the art of the dumb. In the magazine's profile, written by Devin Friedman, Mr. Knoxville treats a hangover by taking 18 airplane bottles of Scotch on a bus to Atlantic City where he gambles and loses $1,000 of the magazine's money. In the photos inside, he wears, variously, a wrestling shirt, worn-out sneakers, a nasty looking fur-trimmed leather coat, and a pair of very, very red eyes. "I think Johnny Knoxville very much has his own style, which is why he is a good subject for our cover," said Jim Nelson, GQ's recently appointed editor in chief. The September issue is the first entirely conceived under his watch. Sitting on a couch in his office on the ninth floor of the Condé Nast building in Midtown Manhattan, Mr. Nelson, 40, might also be said to have very much his own style — and a fairly subversive plan to remake GQ. He may be wearing a Prada suit, but the shirt is a baseball jersey. Condé Nast's GQ, with a circulation of 764,000, is in the midst of the kind of change that mass magazines rarely undergo, particularly those that are nearly a half-century old. The classic bible for men who are ready to don the uniform of adulthood, it has peeled back its business suit and emerged as a much younger magazine. Even as GQ postures for a younger audience, the magazine's legacy of serious, narrative journalism is still evident, including a look at George W. Bush's relationship with religion and an article about a man who has camped out at Charles de Gaulle Airport for 15 years. But under competitive pressures from the so-called lad magazines like Maxim and FHM, and in light of revitalized efforts at Details and Esquire, GQ has responded to a midlife crisis by filling its magazine with shorter articles, hipper fashions and a voice that suddenly seems 20 years younger. In the September issue, there is an homage to neo-nerd fashion and the seminal rock band the Smiths, and an article about Jarrod Emick, who gets to kiss the actor Hugh Jackman in the Broadway play "The Boy From Oz." Mr. Nelson had been executive editor under Art Cooper, the editor in chief of the magazine, who left reluctantly last spring after 20 years, and then died suddenly in June. Mr. Cooper was known to favor Mr. Nelson as a successor, seeing him — as did others in the publishing industry — as a reliable steward of the magazine's fashionable, fusty traditions. But so far, Mr. Nelson has shown surprisingly little reverence for GQ's past. It will take more than a single issue, of course, to know whether the makeover will help the magazine enroll a new generation of readers or disenfranchise the current ones. GQ is still the category leader in ad sales, but its newsstand sales have dropped significantly in the last five years, and advertising sales have been flat or down in each of the last three. While GQ remained true to its elegant ancestry, the competitive landscape was changing markedly. Maxim, FHM and Stuff found five million new readers at a time when GQ's total average circulation was stuck well below one million. Men's Health came up with a robust formula and 1.7 million readers, while Details, a magazine that had been left for dead by Condé Nast, was reinvigorated by its sister division, Fairchild Publications, and immediately began competing for the attention of urban and urbane males. Even Esquire, the Hearst magazine that faced many of the same problems posed by maturity, found its step in the second half of last year and increased newsstand sales by 17 percent. Soon after getting the job, the quiet, affable Mr. Nelson jettisoned many of its longtime contributors, sent some experienced editors packing and asked fundamental questions about what a men's fashion magazine should be. GQ's timelessness has been replaced by a sense of urgency and a much shorter attention span. New departments called Manual, the Verge and the Body are chock-a-block with music, products and trends that are all about this very second in time — a change both invigorating and jarring in a publication that until recently held the Rat Pack as central icons. "There was a time when you could pick up GQ and not know what month or year it was," Mr. Nelson said. "I think that was intentional, part of the magazine's classic appeal. But I want to edit a magazine that reflects my interest in being topical. I am a news hound, I love pop culture and I think the magazine needed more juice." George Sansoucy, a director of Initiative Print and Convergence, a media buying agency, said that GQ could do with some updating, but that he would hate to see a wholesale change in wardrobe. "I think that GQ and every magazine is always challenged to keep their content contemporary," he said. "I just hope it is an adjustment and not a complete overhaul. They have fought hard for their brand and their position in the market." Despite being a monthly, GQ clearly wants to be seen as a publication that can be on top of the news. For the September issue, articles about Michael Savage, the recently fired MSNBC commentator, and the basketball player Kobe Bryant, who was charged with sexual assault, were assigned and jammed into the magazine in a hurry. The attention to currency reveals itself in fashion coverage as well — instead of 40 different pairs of wingtips, there are feature articles on cargo jackets and vintage T-shirts. Although Mr. Nelson has essentially been running GQ for five months, the September issue is the first one to reflect his very different ambitions for the magazine. Advertisers and advertising buyers have yet to inspect his re-interpretation, but most agree that it was time to give GQ a good hard shake. "There is still plenty of equity in the brand, but it was in need of updating," said Stacey Lippman, managing director of Carat USA, a media buying agency. "Maxim and FHM have clearly connected with a post-literate world, but those readers are not going to stay with the magazine forever, and GQ can be waiting for them." Those who have seen the magazine, with its young, perfectly rumpled models, neon colors and ambi-sexual content, have noticed a resemblance to Details, a much smaller magazine with a circulation of 400,000. Advertising pages are up 37 percent in the first half of the year at Details compared with the same period in 2002. "I certainly can't say that it didn't look a little familiar to me," Daniel Peres, editor in chief of Details, said. "But it is one issue, and I don't want to make generalizations based on that. And I should add that I am not for one second underestimating what Jim and the other editors there are going to do. He is a very smart editor." There has long been a tradition of intramural competition at Advance Publications, which owns both Condé Nast and Fairchild, but the Details-GQ battle could become particularly intense. Mr. Knoxville was on the cover of Details in 2002, and Details switched its September cover subject this year from the very grown-up Rob Lowe to the young heartthrob Ashton Kutcher after hearing that GQ was aiming at a younger audience with its September issue. In spite of the rivalry, GQ and Details are being pitched together on insert cards in both magazines. "Two great magazines. One unbelievable price," reads a solicitation that offers a year of both magazines for $19.97. David Granger, editor in chief of Esquire, would be happy if the male audience saw his competitors as two of a kind. "GQ is more lively looking, but the impression that it gives is that it is moving away from the mass of men," Mr. Granger said. "The movement in men's magazine is in two directions — toward the more adolescent idea of a man that the lad books went after and toward a more effete idea of man," which GQ and Details seem aimed at. "That leaves this huge middle ground of successful, sophisticated regular guys," he added, suggesting it presented a significant opportunity for a more traditional magazine like Esquire. Mr. Nelson inherited a fair amount of turmoil at GQ. Although Mr. Cooper had been at the magazine for two decades, he was not eager to retire, and his sudden death soon after his departure cast a shadow over the magazine. Ron Galotti, who had left Condé Nast to start Talk Magazine and returned as publisher of GQ last year, was dismissed in mid-July. But Mr. Nelson is hardly at loose ends, although he misses the counsel of Mr. Cooper. "I am quietly ambitious in my own way," Mr. Nelson said. "I honestly didn't think I was going to get the job and thought I was the dark horse. But now that I have it, I have some pretty clear ideas about where the magazine needs to go." Peter King Hunsinger, vice president and publisher at GQ, has served as publisher at several Condé Nast magazines, including Vanity Fair and Gourmet. He said that Mr. Nelson's selection was hardly a fluke. "He is classically steel-trap smart and has a great take on things," Mr. Hunsinger said. "This kind of choice is our company's wheelhouse. We have had a number of iconic editors who have been replaced by people who only made great magazines better." "If you look at what Graydon Carter has done after taking over from Tina Brown at Vanity Fair, or what Anna Wintour has done with Vogue after succeeding Grace Mirabella, I think it's clear that our company knows how to look after and grow our strongest brands like GQ," he added. "I really don't think this will turn out any different." (R:211.150.237.119)

Piracy and the movie business Tipping Hollywood the black spot Aug 28th 2003 From The Economist print edition The movie business is not doing enough to ward off the threat of digital piracy AS HOLLYWOOD bosses know all too well, digital piracy could plunder their industry. The music business, where piracy has long been active, has lost a quarter of its sales already. Watching its plight, the movie moguls say, has taught them a lesson: listen to what the customer wants and keep the business model flexible. But investors are not convinced that Hollywood's leaders are on top of the piracy threat. Like Scarlett O'Hara in “Gone with the Wind”, says Gordon Crawford, an investor at Capital Research and Management in Los Angeles, many have decided to do something about it tomorrow. It is true that movies are not yet as vulnerable as music. Hollywood starts from a better position. Its products are priced more reasonably than CDs. People want to watch all of a film, so there is no incentive to download a single track. It can take days to download a movie from the internet, unlike a song, which takes minutes. But rampant DVD piracy may be coming soon, both in the form of traditional counterfeiting and downloading from the internet. Hard pirated copies are widespread, and will proliferate further with the spread of DVD recorders and burners. Already as many as 600,000 movie files are shared each day on peer-to-peer file-sharing networks such as Morpheus and Grokster, according to the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA). That number is likely to soar as more households get broadband internet and compression technology cuts download time. The Motion Picture Association of America, which has launched RespectCopyrights.org, outlines its stance on piracy. It hopes to combat file-sharing sites such as Morpheus and Grokster, as do five of the main studios, which have set up Movielink (only available in America). A survey of attitudes towards file sharing of copyrighted material by the Pew Internet and American Life Project, suggests their efforts may be in vain. Movie industry bosses say that they are doing plenty to combat the threat. As well as helping local police with raids on counterfeiters, they are devising “digital rights management” (DRM) techniques, such as deleting content after the user has “consumed” it. They are also offering movies cheaply online and seeking new laws. This week they won a battle against pirates when California's Supreme Court ruled that the First Amendment right to free speech cannot be used as a defence by someone publishing trade secrets on the internet—in this case, software to break DVD copy protection. American Pie-in-the-sky 2Next will come an Orwellian project to “re-educate” the young. With Junior Achievement, a volunteer teaching organisation, the MPAA has developed a curriculum for use in 36,000 American classrooms which teaches that swapping content is wrong. Older file sharers will be hard to persuade, however, and hackers can usually get around any copy protection the industry devises. According to the Pew Internet & American Life Project, 65% of people who share music and video files online say they do not care if material is copyrighted. Last month, the MPAA tried an emotional approach, with a series of adverts in which a set painter, a stuntman, a make-up artist, a grip and an animator explain how piracy hurts them, not just the big bosses. The campaign is unlikely to have much effect, industry-watchers say, as everyone knows how many millions the latest blockbuster grossed and how much the star got. To frighten people, the big music firms are going after individuals in court. Movie firms reckon that this will help them too, though for now they are leaning on universities to stop their students file-sharing. One studio suggests that parents could be presented with a bill for their child's downloading activities at college, and degrees could be withheld until someone pays. Universities may stand by their students, however. For the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) to withhold degrees, says a spokesman, the student would have to be a “serious recidivist”. This month a federal judge ruled that MIT, along with Boston College, need not obey subpoenas from the music industry seeking the names of students it suspects of being heavy file sharers, if only because they were filed from the wrong jurisdiction. Legal attacks may scare people, but risk alienating customers and making them try harder to rip off the industry, which cannot, even in America, sue everyone. Although Hollywood executives say they want to listen to customers, most of their efforts have been to stop and punish downloaders, not to make their products more attractive—with one exception. Five studios have launched Movielink, an online site charging $3-5 to download a movie. But the service is still “clunky”, admits a studio spokesperson. It cannot beat a good video store either for range of titles or for having the latest releases. Customers do not end up owning the film. Assuming it is not resigned to milking all it can from its customers while awaiting inevitable demise at the hands of the pirates, the movie industry should rethink its business model. Movielink might be improved. Prices might be cut to reduce the appeal of piracy. Hollywood should lower the price of DVDs from today's $15-20 to $7-10, says Tom Wolzien, an analyst at Sanford Bernstein, and go for volume. The studios have packed their DVDs full of extra content—director's cuts, and so on—supposedly offering more value. Why not sell a no-frills, cheaper version? asks James Roberts, a consultant at Mercer. Studios might also change how they release movies. Opening a blockbuster in America but not in Britain, for instance, increases demand for pirate copies, as does holding back a movie from release on DVD and video. The studios need to shorten their release windows, says Michael Wolf, director of McKinsey's global media and entertainment practice. They have done this a bit already, he says—with simultaneous global “day-and-date” releases of, say, X-Men 2—but not enough. In the 1980s, software companies used to fight online pirates with DRM technology. But they found that copy protection annoyed users, and got rid of it. The makers of Lotus 1-2-3, a spreadsheet program, abandoned it after finding that they had merely created a new market for software that could defeat copy protections. Now the music industry is realising that often some of the downloaders it labels as thieves are actually trying out music before they buy it, and that controlled, legal file-sharing could be a marketing tool. Viral marketing of that kind, says John Rose, head of the anti-piracy effort at EMI, a music company, could be powerful. Hollywood should take note. The outlook would be much less grim if the entertainment business could do a deal with the firms that make electronic gadgets. For copy protection to work, hardware needs to spot it. So far, says an investor, Hollywood has not had the top-level discussions that it needs with consumer electronics and PC manufacturers. Part of the reason, he says, is that piracy is not being tackled by the bosses of media companies. The task gets delegated. But even if Sumner Redstone, chairman of Viacom, were sitting down with Sony's chief, Nobuyuki Idei, the discussion might not go far. The consumer-electronics industry has little to gain by making products that seriously hinder piracy, as these would be unattractive to customers and hurt sales. If the movie industry does not work out its position quickly, says Mr Wolzien, it could go the same way as music. This might even mean that actors would be paid a lot less. Some are well aware of this. Several movie stars, says a studio executive, even offered to appear for nothing (nothing!) in the MPAA's anti-piracy adverts, but were turned down. This time, understandably, the industry pointed the cameras at its humbler members. (R:202.106.160.122)

《外交事务》：资本主义及其批评者，过去和现在 We Didn't Start the Fire: Capitalism and Its Critics, Then and Now Sheri Berman Foreign Affairs, 24 July 2003 The Mind and the Market: Capitalism in Modern European Thought. Jerry Z. Muller. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2002, 487 pp. $30.00 Thanks to globalization, it is often said, the world is at the dawn of a new era. The spread of markets across the globe and the deepening and quickening of economic interconnections have narrowed the choices open to leaders and publics. You can either opt out of the system and languish or put on what Thomas Friedman calls neoliberalism's "golden straitjacket" -- after which "your economy grows and your politics shrinks." The new order's boosters tout its productivity and efficiency, but critics bemoan its hollowing out of democracy and communal solidarity. From blue-collar autoworkers and turtle-suited environmentalists in the United States to angry farmers in France and frustrated strongmen in Malaysia, calls ring out to reclaim some areas of life from the ever-tightening grip of the market. The controversy has emerged so quickly that it seems new and strange -- although in fact it is anything but, as Jerry Z. Muller demonstrates in his wonderful new book The Mind and the Market. A historian at Catholic University, Muller has written a lively and accessible survey of what dozens of major European thinkers have thought about capitalism. The value of the book lies less in its contribution to the literature on any particular individual than in its gathering together in one place of a wealth of information on figures from Burke, Smith, and Voltaire to Schumpeter, Keynes, and Hayek. Muller's masterful sketches of intellectuals from across the political spectrum help put today's battles over globalization in proper historical perspective. He reminds us just how venerable many of the current antiglobalization movement's concerns actually are, and thus how they need to be understood and addressed not as the consequences of recent policies or conditions but rather as inherent in the dynamics of capitalism itself. What becomes painfully clear in the process is how far the level of debate has fallen in recent decades and how impoverished and narrow contemporary thought about the market has become. GREED AND GOODNESS Because Americans take capitalism for granted, they often fail to appreciate what a historically recent and revolutionary phenomenon it is. Trade and commerce have been features of human society from the beginning, but it was really only in the eighteenth century that economies began to emerge in which markets were the primary force in the production and distribution of goods. And as soon as such economies did emerge, they began transforming not only economic relationships but social and political ones as well. These transformations were so radical and so destabilizing, in fact, that they prompted an almost immediate backlash. Some of the critics' concerns related to the harmful effects that the glorification of moneymaking had on individual character. Throughout Western history, Muller notes, the pursuit of material gain had generally been frowned upon, if not actively discouraged, since it was seen as incompatible with a virtuous life. Thus Plato had Socrates say in The Republic that "the more men value money the less they value virtue," while the Apostle Paul argued that "the love of money is the root of all evils." Critics of capitalism could draw on this tradition, and did. In the mid-nineteenth century, for example, Marx's collaborator Friedrich Engels stressed the new system's "morally scandalous" foundations. Self-interest was really nothing more than greed, he claimed, and greed stood in direct conflict with morality and the larger needs of humanity. He and Marx were convinced that the market's exaltation of self-interest would ultimately erode all restraints on behavior and thus increase social conflict and disorder -- a development they were ready to welcome, since it would pave the way for the rise of socialism. The critics argued, moreover, that in addition to encouraging avarice, market-based societies distracted people from the common purposes and higher ends to which life should be devoted. Advocates might claim that capitalism's greatest accomplishment was freeing individuals to pursue their own self-interest, but the critics replied that in practice this often translated into an obsession with trivial choices about consumption rather than anything deeper and more noble. Such concerns were voiced with increasing vehemence and regularity during the surge of globalization that began toward the end of the nineteenth century and led a surprisingly large number of intellectuals to reject the liberal, capitalist system completely. Muller illustrates this dynamic by contrasting the careers of the Hungarian revolutionary and literary critic Georg Lukács and the German sociologist and political ideologist Hans Freyer. Born in 1885, Lukács gradually became obsessed by the "spiritual emptiness and moral inadequacy of capitalism" and became convinced that the system was not worth saving. Longing to replace it with an entirely new type of civilization, one that promised a fresh start and an opportunity to lead a meaningful and purposeful life, he eventually turned to communism. For Lukács, Muller notes, it seemed to provide precisely "what capitalism could not: a cause to which one could devote one's whole life, rather than just part of oneself; a source of discipline worth accepting; and an all-encompassing community." Born in 1887, meanwhile, Freyer took a similar journey but ended up at a different destination. He too grew increasingly disillusioned with the spiritual emptiness and personal alienation that characterized modern society and searched for a radical alternative to the "moral dead-end of capitalism." But whereas Lukács found his salvation in communism, Freyer found his in National Socialism. Neither a racist nor an antisemite, Freyer, like many intellectuals, was attracted to the Nazis because they seemed to offer what capitalism lacked: an opportunity to sacrifice for the larger good and participate in a world historical project. THE GREAT TRANSFORMATION Another set of criticisms focused on capitalism's effects not on individuals but on society. Well into the nineteenth century, Muller points out, it was widely believed that societies could be held together only by "a shared vision of the public good," and so many intellectuals worried that the growth and spread of markets would lead to the decay of social and political institutions. An early expression of such concerns came from one Justus M?ser, a fascinating figure Muller rescues from obscurity. Born in 1720 in the small west German town of Osnabrück, M?ser watched with fear as the market began to destabilize the society in which he lived. He decried the fact that in the emerging capitalist world, money and paid service decide all, and both have shamefully extinguished the economy of public honor which were the nonmonetary means by which patriots were rewarded. The economy of public honor led in a certain and orderly fashion to the commonweal; it functioned on the basis of duties rather than punishments, it created patriots willing to sacrifice for the sake of their fellow citizens and become involved in all undertakings for the sake of the state and renown. Now the rich in their gilded coaches trample the common citizen into the dust; and the paid servant laughs at the man who once sought as his reward for voluntary and grand service nothing but the honor of wearing the black coat of public office. For M?ser, in short, basing social relationships on material exchange and reward was not a historical necessity but rather a choice that the communities of his time were making, and a bad one. M?ser also bemoaned the way the emerging capitalist system led to a stifling homogenization. By insisting on the universality and primacy of a set of "simple principles" and by allowing the direction and nature of social relationships to be determined by economic needs, the spread of markets threatened to rob communities of their distinctive cultures and institutions. Capitalism thus departed, he declared, "from the true plan of nature, which reveals its wealth through its multiplicity, and would clear the path to despotism, which seeks to coerce all according to a few rules and so loses the richness that comes with variety." Concerns similar to M?ser's continued to be raised by European intellectuals as time passed, and became increasingly widespread and impassioned. In 1887, the German sociologist Ferdinand T?nnies published his path-breaking Gemeinschaft und Gesellschaft (Community and society), setting the terms of the debate for generations to come. T?nnies asserted that there were two basic forms of social life, that which existed before the spread of markets and that which existed after. In the precapitalist world, community reigned supreme. Commitment to the public good was the highest value, and citizens were bound together by common views and an instinctual, unquestioned sense of social solidarity. The dominance of markets, in contrast, created a type of social organization where self-interests rather than communal interests were paramount and the only bonds between citizens were temporary and shifting relationships of contract and exchange. Although T?nnies intended his analysis to be objective, he was clearly haunted by the sense that modern man had paid a terrible price for the advance of the market -- the loss of communities united by shared ideals and the emergence in their place of meaningless and transitory societal groupings. As he famously noted, "In community people remain essentially united in spite of all separating factors, whereas in society they are essentially separated in spite of all uniting factors." A recurrent subtheme of Muller's book, interestingly, is how such ideas about capitalism intersected with antisemitism. He thus describes, for example, how T?nnies' categories were taken a step further by the German social scientist Werner Sombart, who placed the ultimate responsibility for the shift on the shoulders of the Jews. Jews, Sombart argued, embodied all the traits valued most highly by the market -- egoism, self-interest, and abstract thinking -- and therefore had the most to gain from its spread. With Sombart, the triumph of capitalism was thus portrayed as "the replacement of a concrete, particularist, Christian Gemeinschaft by an abstract, universalized, Judaized Gesellschaft," an ominous turn that gave the alienated and displaced someone handy to blame. WHAT WOULD BURKE DO? Muller makes clear that over the centuries even capitalism's most passionate defenders took both the individual-level and the societal-level criticisms seriously and felt obliged to address them forthrightly. Regarding the dangers of saying that greed was good, for example, he cites Edmund Burke, the great eighteenth-century British conservative statesman and political thinker who "championed capitalist economic development from his earliest published writing until his last days." Nevertheless, Burke firmly believed that "among the greatest of men's needs was the need for society and government to provide a 'sufficient restraint upon their passions.'" An important factor driving this conviction was Burke's experience with one of the great multinationals of his day, the British East India Company (EIC). He watched with horror as the company's leaders engaged in a "magnificent plan of plunder" in India. In addition to devastating a "great and venerable civilization," Burke noted, the avarice of the EIC's leaders also corrupted the English political system, since they used their ill-gotten gains to buy political influence at home. Only an active and interventionist state, he concluded, could restrain such behavior and ensure the "priority of human over commercial rights." And regarding the concern about individuals being distracted from higher purposes, Muller notes how Matthew Arnold, the nineteenth-century British poet and critic, supported capitalism but worried that its advocates tended to confuse "the agglomeration of means with the ends of life, and the increase in material wealth with moral improvement. They treated political liberty as a good in itself, instead of asking what purpose that liberty served." Arnold did not disparage either liberty or wealth, Muller writes, but he objected to the notion that "liberty was the last word in moral evaluation, and that the principles of free trade, industriousness, and self-interest, which fueled the market, ought to be applied to all other areas of life." He decided such tendencies had to be counteracted by a variety of means, including the promotion of cultural and intellectual norms that would protect against the materialism and Philistinism capitalism encouraged. The nineteenth-century German philosopher Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel agreed. Hegel, Muller observes, saw the market as the "central and most distinctive feature of the modern world, a world he affirmed and sought to explain to his contemporaries." But he also recognized the defects of market societies and came to the conclusion that the state had to step in to help remedy them. Like Arnold, Hegel believed that in order to lead a truly full and satisfying life, individuals needed a sense of identity, a feeling of being connected to some larger whole beyond themselves. In the precapitalist world these connections were provided by things such as religion, tradition, and shared cultural norms, but in modern society Hegel thought they would have to come from institutions such as the state and the civil service. Indeed, perhaps the only defender of capitalism whom Muller finds largely unmoved by the critiques is the twentieth-century Austrian liberal Friedrich Hayek (which undoubtedly explains a large part of his contemporary appeal). Hayek had little sympathy for talk of virtue or "higher ends" and was skeptical of any state role in controlling the market or in fostering so-called public goods. Instead, he praised precisely what was often criticized, the emergence of a society in which individuals were as free as possible to do as they pleased and states served merely as "pieces of utilitarian machinery intended to help individuals in the fullest development of their individual personality." But Hayek is the exception that proves the rule, for he was honest enough to recognize that the libertarianism he championed would not necessarily be very popular because it would be too personally and socially destabilizing for many to handle. Rather than try to alleviate such concerns, however, he was content to suppress them and accept limitations on democracy in the process -- an aspect of his thinking that receives little attention from his admirers today. IGNORANT ARMIES CLASHING BY NIGHT Many of the figures Muller discusses are little read today outside of graduate seminars in intellectual history, but all of this is, or should be, of far more than merely antiquarian interest. It represents the backstory of the antiglobalization movement and shows that contemporary worries about the downsides of capitalism cannot be dismissed as the rantings of ignorant fools or as simple adolescent acting-out. Similar concerns, Muller writes, have "been on the minds of intellectuals for a very long time, at least since the eighteenth century," and contributed to the rise of both communism and fascism. These concerns should be taken very seriously indeed. But today's market boosters disagree. Pointing to the very real economic benefits that capitalism brings and the poor economic track record of non-market-based approaches to arranging economic affairs, globalization's proponents find it hard to understand what all the fuss is about. If only the protesters could learn some math, they scoff, or learn to care about increasing the aggregate wealth of society rather than coddling a few special interests or worrying about quaint traditions and outmoded values, everything would be fine. What they fail to understand is that such narrow economistic attitudes miss the point. Yes, capitalism is far and away the best method ever discovered for producing growth. But for serious thinkers that has not been, and is not today, the only issue. Even its most die-hard critics have never doubted capitalism's amazing capacity to generate wealth. In fact, Muller notes, for someone like Justus M?ser it was "precisely the superior productivity of capitalism that was its most threatening aspect," because that was what enabled it to so rapidly and efficiently undermine traditional forms of production and the lifestyles, cultures, and communities that went with them. Now and in the past, the real debate about markets has focused not simply on their economic potential but also on the broader impact they have on the lives of individuals and societies. Critics have worried, and still worry, not about whether unleashing markets will lead to economic growth, but about whether markets themselves will unleash morally and socially irresponsible behavior while eviscerating long-standing communities, traditions, and cultures. The great defenders of capitalism that Muller analyzes understood this well. They respected the concerns of their fellow citizens and took pains to address them, often by accepting the need for markets and market values to be countered by other forces such as state regulation, civil society activity, and social sanctions. Could they return now for a visit, they would be delighted to see the wealth capitalism has generated since their passing -- and appalled to see how their rich and vibrant tradition of political economy has withered into the cramped equations and narrow materialist calculus of contemporary economics. They knew that allaying the fears and unease generated by the spread of markets would be one of the central tasks of politicians and intellectuals from the Industrial Revolution onward; they might wonder whether their successors have lost sight of the fact that markets were meant to serve people rather than the other way around. (R:211.150.201.16)

《耶鲁全球》访谈：恐怖主义不能阻遏全球化进程 Terrorism May Have Put Sand in its Gears but Globalization Won't Stop Thomas L. Friedman says countries may join globalization at a speed they deem best suited to their interest YaleGlobal, 3 February 2003 NEW HAVEN: Nayan Chanda: Since The Lexus and The Olive Tree was published in 1999, the world has changed. How do you see this change has affected globalization as a phenomenon? Thomas Friedman: The most important effect on globalization has clearly been 9/11. It has clearly been a huge olive tree event. Chanda: If you could explain what an olive tree event is... Friedman: A huge assertion of ethnic or religious identity, anger, rage, into this globalization system. But because it was targeted on the United States, which after all, is the heartbeat of this system, it's slowed down the system a little bit. It's interdicted travel a little bit. We see its impact on the airline industry. I won't say it's interdicted trade, but it's certainly slowed down commerce. It's put sand in the gears of the system, not in a fundamental way, but the danger that 9/11 poses, is if there is another 9/11. If there is another 9/11 that prompts the United States to really shrink the apertures into our country, whether it's the Canadian border, or seaports, or airports, or our rail lines, that really could have an effect on slowing down globalization, at least for a little while. That's the biggest impact, the biggest change since the book came out. But there's another important thing to keep in mind, because there are a lot of misunderstandings about this. A lot of people associated the dot-coms with globalization. And so when the dot-coms blew up, people wrote that globalization is over. My answer to them is very simple. It's true that there are no longer five websites where you can get 100 pounds of dog food delivered to your house in an hour, but there is one. And that's what's new. That's what you have to keep your eye on. People who say that globalization is over... Chanda: And that one is Amazon.com? Friedman: And the one is Amazon.com, or one other that we don't know. Dogfood.com or Pets.com, if it still exists. I just use it as an example. People who say globalization is over, I would like to introduce them to two pretty good sized countries; one's called India, and one's called China. These are two countries that have bet their future on a globalization strategy - on educating, empowering their people, and designing their infrastructure, trade and governance policies to succeed in globalization. They are two fifths of the planet. Go tell them that globalization is over. Chanda: One of the features, you said, the most striking feature of the globalization system, as opposed to the Cold War system, is integration. Do you think that the integration aspect is being somewhat hampered by what has happened since 9/11? Friedman: There is no question. One just looks at a place like Yale. I don't know this, but I assume that you have foreign students that may have come for a semester, gone home, and not been able to come back after spring break because of visa problems. This is a tiny example. I've had ambassadors around the world writing me about the problems that they're having with smart, bright kids, or professionals who have job opportunities, or study opportunities in the United States, that haven't been able to take them up as a result of 9/11. That will slow down globalization if it is permanent. My guess is that there will be technological fixes to all of these things. Some of them may not be pretty, because some of them may involve infringements on civil liberties as we've known them. But there will be fixes over time. We're in the adjustment period now. Chanda: You know, in one of your pieces you wrote, that Ramzi Yousef, the guy who blew up the World Trade Center the first time - his desire to blow up the World Trade Center was because, as you said, "globalization as Americanization had gotten in his face, and it had empowered him, as an individual, to do something about it." Do you feel that globalization and Americanization are the same thing? Friedman: I think that it was true to a point, and it was certainly true early on, but it's less and less true every day. My image of globalization, when one speaks about culture; I always ask people 'What's the most popular food in the world?' Is it the Big Mac? No, no. Is it spaghetti? No, no. The most popular food in the world is pizza. Now why is pizza such a popular food? Because every culture has a flat piece of bread on which you can stick all kinds of local ingredients and products. So in India you can get curry pizza, and in China you can get sweet and sour pizza, and in Mexico you can get chili pizza, or fajita pizza. And I look at the internet, which is now so much of a driver of globalization, as like a big pizza that every society basically puts its own local culture on. I don't know exactly when, but it will be sometime near 2010, where there will be more Chinese and Indian internet users than there are Americans. And that's going to change the flavor of the internet pizza. So, yes, initially America was the driver of this system and dominated in the cultural sense, but I think that will be less and less true with every passing day. Chanda: You also coined the phrase, "super-empowered angry men," who are challenging globalization in many ways. These people are products of globalization themselves, but they are trying to create a different kind of globalized world. Is that right? Friedman: Well, in some ways they're products of globalization - in that the hijackers of 9/11, some of them booked their seats on travelocity.com. They were very adept at communicating through the internet, even sending encoded, embedded messages, with steganography, as far as we can tell. Cell phones were a basic instrument of Osama Bin Laden, for passing messages and instructions. They were global men in many, many ways. And they have a global vision. I call them Islamo-Leninists. Because in another life, had Osama Bin Laden or Ayman al-Zawahiri of Egypt been students at Yale, they would have been Trotskyites or Marxists. These are people with Utopian visions. They want to bring the kingdom of God on Earth. But not a kingdom of a race, like the Nazis. Not a kingdom of a class, like Marxists, but a kingdom of a religion - Islam. Chanda: One of the things you said about the need for fundamentals that countries need to have in order to better integrate into the globalized world, like good governance, rule of law, education, and the stuff you said that cannot be downloaded. The point is that the countries which are unfortunate to be in a geographically wrong area, or economically not endowed, how do you pull up these countries into the globalized world? Friedman: Well, it's really good governance in space. Now what do I mean by that? I mean that the key to globalization is that it's not in the bandwidth, it's not in the wires, it is actually in the good old fundamentals. You get your governance right and clean; get your oversight; the regulatory bodies that look over your banking system and financial system in decent shape; get me a basic rule of law that as a foreigner I can invest in your country, and feel that if there is a dispute between me and a local businessman I can get it adjudicated without having to bribe the judge with a goat. And you get those basics right and a good education system so I have a pool of educated people to draw from, and you'll do fine. You'll do fine if you are Taiwan. Think about Taiwan for a second. This is a barren rock in a typhoon-laden sea off the coast of China, with what, twenty million people on it? They have the third largest foreign reserves in the world. It doesn't have climate going for it; it doesn't have natural resources going for it. All that it's got going for it are good fundamentals. So if you get your fundamentals right, the world will find you, the wires will find you, the bandwidth will find you. But if you get them wrong, then nobody will find you, or nobody will stick with you for very long. So really, success in globalization is all about that good old basic stuff. And that good old basic stuff is open for any country to acquire. How did Hong Kong succeed? It succeeded with the basics. Lord knows there is no natural resources there. Chanda: Except the fact that some of the policies of the western countries, the developed countries, especially the United States, like steel tariffs, farm subsidies, and also the US attitude towards the Kyoto Protocol, International Criminal Court - all this kind of suggests the US is trying to hew its own course at a time when the US is the cutting edge of globalization, and the US is the major beneficiary of globalization. How do you explain this contradiction? Friedman: Nayan, you're far too polite. It's not just a contradiction; it's a shameful contradiction. It's wanting it both ways. It's wanting to force open other people's markets for what we make and export successfully, while keeping our markets closed to some of the things they make and export successfully, often food and textiles for developing countries. It's wrong; it's a travesty, and it's the great Achilles heal of the globalization system. Someone told me the other day, though this may not be accurate. But a friend of mine from India told me that there was a study done about farm subsidies from developed countries, and if you took all those subsidies and put them together, you could fly every cow around the world first class. I don't know if that's accurate, but I bet the direction is roughly right. These are political questions. Hopefully we'll eventually get over them. I'm all for buying off our steel workers. I'm all for buying off our farmers. Let's cushion them from the ravages. But what I'm not for is being stupid. And when someone is knocking on my door as a country and saying that we'd like to sell you steel for less than it costs us to make it, and we slam the door and say no, no, no, we don't want that, that's just stupid, and that's what retards your growth as a country. We all need to take advantage of this system, but we need to make it fair. And there I believe the third world, the developing world, has a big and justifiable complaint. Chanda: And that complaint of course is being expressed mostly at the WTO forum. And do you have any thoughts as to what should one do about the intellectual property right issue in the WTO, which is becoming a major obstacle to global trade? Friedman: I don't know enough about where the proper compromise should be there, but what I know is this. People want to talk about whether we globalize; them, I don't have much patience for, because globalization here is being driven by technology, and it's the wave of the future. But people want to talk about how we globalize, how we do it technologically, how we do it legally, how we do it in terms of trade, and how we make it fair; that's a discussion I'm ready to have all day long. So I would have to defer to the experts on where the right compromise is on issues like patents, but it's certainly a discussion we should be having. Chanda: And finally, as you know, the earlier period of globalization in the late 19th century abruptly ended at the beginning of the twentieth century with tariff walls rising and the immigration barrier rising. Do you see the same phenomenon being reproduced now with what's happening in Europe, vis à vis immigrants, even in this country about immigrants from third world countries facing more difficulty. How do you see this? Friedman: Well, the first era of globalization was really built around falling transportation costs, thanks to the steamship and the railroad. This era of globalization is built on something different. It's built on falling telecommunications cost, and the transfer of voice, and data, and information, in an era of service economies. I see it being hampered potentially by the rise of this terrorist phenomenon, and how it could put sand in the gears of the system. But unless you tell me that people are ready to accept radically lower standards of living, I don't think we will consciously, as governments and societies, want to go back to the pre-globalization era. Now it may be that there is going to be a transition here where we find the technological ways. You know I was just at the Davos World Economic Forum, and when you go there as a participant they give you a name tag which you wear around your neck and it has your picture and bar code on it, and you can go to a computer and get all your messages, and when you go in and out of the Davos Conference Center, you press this and it gives you entry and your picture and your whole bio comes up. We may be going to that system. Certainly, if there is another 9/11, we're all going to be wearing Davos badges around our necks. To get into the airport, to get into the sports stadium, to get into any public place. That is, alas, I fear where we will go. But where we won't go, I believe, is backwards, to some prehistoric age. Chanda: In the last several months some developments- especially in Argentina, Brazil, and now Peru, which are leading people to say, maybe Latin America is going to sign off from globalization. Do you see that as a possibility? Friedman: I don't see it at all. I see Latin America afraid in my golden straightjacket, struggling to find a way to succeed in this system, consistent with its own culture. The reason globalization is going on so successfully, I think, is more and more countries are learning how to glocalize - how to fit their own culture, society and social needs into the demands of the global market. And the countries that are doing the best, I think, are countries like India, which hasn't opened up its markets fully, or China, which has gone slowly into this, but at the same time moved ahead. I always say, in this globalization system there is just one road; folks there is just one road. When someone comes and they say they've discovered a whole new road to prosperity. Oh, I grab my wallet. I know I came in here with $50; I'm leaving with $50. There is just one road, and it's the road, I believe, of free markets, of liberalized markets, and liberalized politics. But there are many speeds, Nayan. There's one road, and there's many speeds. Every country should go down the road in a way that is consistent with maintaining its cultural cohesion, its social cohesion, but at the same time its economic development. For some it might be 5 miles an hour, for others it may be 50. But promise me you just won't do one thing - not go down the road at all. If you do that, I promise you, you'll bring nothing but ruin and devastation to your people. (R:211.150.201.16)

《经济学人》：麻烦指引美国回家之路 Show me the way to go home Aug 14th 2003 “War lite” is all very well. Empire lite is a mistake EMPIRES are born in funny ways, and sometimes, via the law of unintended consequences, by accident. In his 1998 declaration of war against “Jews and Crusaders”, Osama bin Laden said his aim was to force America's armies to depart “shattered and broken-winged from all the lands of Islam”. So far he has achieved the opposite. Within less than two years of the felling of the twin towers, America has invaded and occupied two Muslim countries, Afghanistan and Iraq, with a combined population of more than 50m. If this has surprised Mr bin Laden, it may be no less of a surprise to America itself. Who expected the colony that started its own national life by casting off the empire of George III to end up running a far-flung Muslim Dominion of Iraqistan? However it happened, Americans are not enjoying it much . The Afghan war of 2001 and the Iraq war this spring were walkovers, costing between them a grand total of fewer than 150 American lives. For the superpower, if not its adversaries, this has been “war lite”. But staying on has been less of a breeze. For one thing, some of the locals do not seem to know when they are beaten: nearly 60 Americans have been killed in Iraq since George Bush declared the end of major fighting. For another, it is expensive: the fighting alone has already cost American taxpayers some $65 billion. On some estimates, rebuilding the country could add anything up to $600 billion. To top it all, Iraqistan is not the very feather a self-respecting empire would choose for its cap. Iraq minus Saddam and Afghanistan minus the Taliban are better off than they were before these subtractions. But both are still a mess. Given this, it is not hard to see why in America itself the champions of “neo-imperialism” are now being drowned out by voices clamouring for an early exit. Nor is it any disgrace. Mr Bush said all along that America went to Iraqistan in order to defend itself, and would leave these places the moment its job was done. What would be a disgrace is to cut and run before then. It is on the whole a good thing for both America and the world that the superpower is a reluctant imperialist. An incompetent imperialist is bad for everybody. Has America been incompetent? At first glance, you could almost make a reasonable case that in Afghanistan it has done moderately well. That country is now more or less at peace; an Afghan government exists; a constitution is being written; NATO has taken over control of the international peacekeeping force in Kabul; and America's own garrison has been reduced to a minimum. The trouble is that all these accomplishments are either fragile or incomplete . The south of the country is still too dangerous for aid workers to work in. The government's writ does not extend much beyond Kabul. Local warlords, deep into the heroin trade, wield the real power. The Americans may have deprived Mr bin Laden's men of a safe haven. But Afghanistan remains a failed or non-existent state, still capable in the future of visiting its failures violently upon the West. America's (and Britain's) post-war performance in Iraq is harder to defend. Even allowing for the scale of the task, they have made a botch of things so far. Americans are famous not only for having supposedly limitless resources but also for their energy, can-doism and powers of improvisation. And yet, three months into the occupation, a scorching Iraq is still waiting for reliable supplies of power and clean water. The occupation authorities have created a Governing Council of Iraqis. Although broadly representative of Iraq's tribes and factions, this body is, however, the unelected creature of the Americans and British, consisting for the most part of returning exiles. It is a transitional achievement, at best. So what has gone wrong? A common explanation from the superpower's critics is that the Americans are paying the price of “unilateralism”. Had the Iraq war been waged under the banner and with the authority of the United Nations, they say, many more countries would now be helping to put the place back together. Of a score of countries with troops in Iraq, a mere 13,000 come from 19 countries and the 148,000 others are American. Many more countries share an interest in a peaceful and prosperous Iraq. But since the Americans insisted on going it alone, argue some of those holding back, they can jolly well sort out the mess by themselves. This is not quite fair. Had the Americans waited for the Security Council's authority (and Mr Bush did try for it), Iraqis would probably still be squirming under the dictator's heel. But since the war the Americans have indeed been excessively reluctant to give up a little of their own authority in Iraq so that the UN might have a little more. Though the Security Council has its own man in Iraq, his powers are vague and it is America's proconsul, Paul Bremer, who calls the shots. The present arrangement has the merit of giving America control of a situation for which America will in the end anyway be blamed. But why not seek a new resolution that tweaks the balance enough to encourage more countries to lend a hand? Do it right, then go Putting a sturdier international umbrella over America's accidental empire should not be seen as just a way to defray the costs. It would help in many other ways.In Iraq in particular, it might reassure those who say that America is interested only in plundering their oil. In Afghanistan, the presence of a muscular Office of the High Representative, like the one that was created for Bosnia (and backed by a muscular peacekeeping force), would have helped Hamid Karzai's government to impose his will on the warlords. But internationalisation is not, by itself, a panacea. In the end, only America has the military and economic heft to ensure a decent outcome in these places. And, in a paradox, those Americans now clamouring for an exit from Iraqistan should be pushing their government to do much more in its new dominions, not less. America succeeded at “war lite”. But it would be an error to follow up with what a Canadian writer, Michael Ignatieff, has called “empire lite”. Even an unwanted empire is an empire, and hard to run on the cheap. Iraqistan requires the urgent application of more money, attention and ingenuity than America has invested so far. This need not mean staying for “the long haul”, as people say. It is possible that by doing more now, America may be able to pull out sooner. The key is to make enough of an effort now to ensure that these places will remain stable when the empire goes home. The needs of the two places are not identical. The priorities for Iraq are to raise an effective local police force and put together a clear plan and timetable for a constitutional assembly and the election of a government that Iraqis will see as their own. Afghanistan needs more peacekeepers. In Bosnia in 1995, as soon as peace was agreed, America, Britain and France inserted 60,000 peacekeepers. By contrast, the whole of Afghanistan, a country 12 times the area with seven times the population, has only 5,000 or so troops providing security, plus another 12,000 or so mopping up the remnants of the Taliban and al-Qaeda.What folly. Failed states that are allowed to fail again will just have to be rescued again, if they are not to become a renewed threat to the security of the West. (R:211.150.241.110)

Dinner With the Sayyids bAGHDAD, Iraq The best thing about being in Baghdad these days is that you just never know who's going to show up for dinner. Take last Wednesday night. I was invited to interview a rising progressive Iraqi Shiite cleric, Sayyid Iyad Jamaleddine, at his home on the banks of the Tigris. It was the most exciting conversation I've had on three trips to postwar Iraq. I listened to Mr. Jamaleddine eloquently advocate separation of mosque and state and lay out a broad, liberal agenda for Iraq's majority Shiites. As we sat down for a meal of Iraqi fish and flat bread, he introduced me to a small, black-turbaned cleric who was staying as his houseguest. "Mr. Friedman, this is Sayyid Hussein Khomeini" — the grandson of Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, the founder of Iran's Islamic revolution. Mr. Khomeini told me he had left the Iranian spiritual center of Qum to meet with scholars in the Iraqi Shiite spiritual centers of Karbala and Najaf. He, too, is a progressive, he explained, and he intends to use the freedom that the U.S. invasion has created in Iraq to press for real democratic reform in Iran. Now I understand why his grandfather once threw him in jail for a week. He has Ayatollah Khomeini's fiery eyes and steely determination, but the soul of a Muslim liberal. The 46-year-old Mr. Khomeini said he's currently advocating a national referendum in Iran to revoke the absolute religious and political powers that have been grabbed by Iran's clergy. But in other interviews here, he was quoted as saying that Iran's hard-line clerical rulers were "the world's worst dictatorship," who have been exploiting his grandfather's name and the name of Islam "to continue their tyrannical rule." He and Mr. Jamaleddine told me their first objective was to open Shiite seminaries and schools in Iraq to teach their ideas to the young generation. Ladies and gentlemen, I have no idea whether these are the only two liberal Shiite clerics in Iraq. People tell me they definitely are not. Either way, their willingness to express their ideas publicly is hugely important. It is, for my money, the most important reason we fought this war: If the West is going to avoid a war of armies with Islam, there has to be a war of ideas within Islam. The progressives have to take on both the religious totalitarians, like Osama bin Laden, and the secular totalitarians who exploit Islam as a cover, like Saddam Hussein. We cannot defeat their extremists, only they can. This war of ideas needs two things: a secure space for people to tell the truth and people with the courage to tell it. That's what these two young clerics represent, at least in potential. Mr. Jamaleddine, age 42, grew up in Iraq, sought exile in Iran after one of Saddam's anti-Shiite crackdowns, tasted the harshness of the Iranian Islamic revolution firsthand, moved to Dubai, and then returned to Iraq as soon as Saddam fell. Here is a brief sampler of what he has been advocating: On religion and state: "We want a secular constitution. That is the most important point. If we write a secular constitution and separate religion from state, that would be the end of despotism and it would liberate religion as well as the human being. . . . The Islamic religion has been hijacked for 14 centuries by the hands of the state. The state dominated religion, not the other way around. It used religion for its own ends. Tyrants ruled this nation for 14 centuries and they covered their tyranny with the cloak of religion. . . . When I called for secularism in Nasiriya (in the first postwar gathering of Iraqi leaders), they started saying things against me. But last week I had some calls from Qum, thanking me for presenting this thesis and saying, `We understand what you are calling for, but we cannot say so publicly.' "Secularism is not blasphemy. I am a Muslim. I am devoted to my religion. I want to get it back from the state and that is why I want a secular state. . . . When young people come to religion, not because the state orders them to but because they feel it themselves in their hearts, it actually increases religious devotion. . . . The problem of the Middle East cannot be solved unless all the states in the area become secular. . . . I call for opening the door for Ijtihad [reinterpretation of the Koran in light of changing circumstances]. The Koran is a book to be interpreted [by] each age. Each epoch should not be tied to interpretations from 1,000 years ago. We should be open to interpretations based on new and changing times." How will he deal with opposition to such ideas from Iraq's neighbors? "The neighboring countries are all tyrannical countries and they are wary of a modern, liberal Iraq. . . . That is why they work to foil the U.S. presence. . . . If the U.S. wants to help Iraqis, it must help them the way it helped Germany and Japan, because to help Iraq is really to help 1.3 billion Muslims. Iraq will teach these values to the entire Islamic world. Because Iraq has both Sunnis and Shiites, and it has Arabs, Kurds and Turkmen. . . . If it succeeds here it can succeed elsewhere. But to succeed you also need to satisfy people's basic needs: jobs and electricity. If people are hungry, they will be easily recruited by the extremists. If they are well fed and employed, they will be receptive to good ideas. . . . The failure of this experiment in Iraq would mean success for all despots in the Arab and Islamic world. [That is why] this is a challenge that America must accept and take all the way." Mr. Jamaleddine, Mr. Khomeini; these are real spiritual leaders here. But if the U.S. does not create a secure environment and stable economy in Iraq, their voices will never get through. If we do, though — wow. To the rest of the Arab world, I would simply say: Guess who's coming to dinner. (R:202.106.160.122)

A Magazine's Radical Plan: Make a Profit By DAVID CARR David Bradley, the owner of The Atlantic Monthly, plans to cut his magazine's subscriber base as he raises the price. for most of his career, David Bradley, the owner of The Atlantic Monthly, helped businesses innovate around seemingly intractable problems. Before buying The Atlantic in 1999, he built a successful consulting firm, the Advisory Board, that eventually went public. But after switching from consulting to owning, he realized that he had never come across something as dysfunctional as the economics of publishing magazines. Despite significant circulation and advertising gains and a passel of journalism awards since he acquired the magazine from Mortimer Zuckerman, The Atlantic continues to lose millions of dollars a year. So Mr. Bradley, the consultant, advised Mr. Bradley, the magazine owner, to take several steps that are both radical and simple, at least in the publishing industry: charge readers more while shunning the cult of big circulation. In 2004, The Atlantic Monthly will cut its rate base, the number of copies promised to advertisers, to 325,000 from 450,000 (the magazine's actual average circulation exceeded 500,000 last year). And readers will be asked to pay almost twice as much to subscribe — about $30 instead of an average of about $16. The changes come after the magazine decreased its frequency to 10 times a year from 12, so the per-copy price is even higher. "In my 20 years of strategy consulting, I don't know that I came across a more complex proposition than magazine profitability, or at least, ours," Mr. Bradley writes in a letter that will be sent to advertisers today. "The Atlantic is hardly Enron, but neither is it (any time soon) my third I.P.O." In the letter, Mr. Bradley writes that he will lower ad rates as the number of subscribers declines and suggests that the magazine will be delivering truly engaged readers, not junk subscriptions from third-party sources. For years, particularly since the Internet bubble burst, the publishing industry has been promising to charge consumers more and has proceeded to do exactly the opposite. According to Capell's Circulation Report, a magazine industry newsletter, the average price of a standard subscription has dropped 17 percent in the five years ending in 2002. Common sense would suggest that during the biggest advertising downturn in more than a decade, publishers would ask consumers to pay a bigger share. But in 2002, the first year in which the Audit Bureau of Circulations has kept track of average annual subscription prices, the average price per copy rose one cent, according to Capell's June 2003 issue. Magazines like Harper's Bazaar, GQ and Vogue are charging less. There are exceptions. The Economist has increased its subscription price over the years and now charges an average of $102 a year for its customers in the United States. Its closest rival in the United States on price is Time Inc.'s People, which charges $99.04, up from $96.76 a year ago. But a lush, beautifully produced magazine like Vanity Fair can still be had for an average of $16.21, and much lower if a consumer shops around, particularly on the Internet. "The magazine industry has trained the American public to undervalue its product," the president of The Atlantic Monthly, John Fox Sullivan, said. "We are raising prices in a way that to our knowledge has never been done, and there are many people who are telling us that we are moving too quickly and we will regret it. But we instinctively believe that there is a core of readers who will pay a good price for this magazine." The Atlantic Monthly is working from a position of manifest strengths and profound weaknesses. In the last three years, its newsstand sales have increased 94 percent while the average subscription renewal price has risen 35 percent. Its advertising pages were up 31 percent in the last two, very punishing years, and it has won five national magazine awards in the last two years. But the reason Mr. Bradley and Mr. Sullivan are considering such a high-risk strategy is that the investment that drove those improvements has doubled losses at the magazine, to $8 million a year from $4 million, a company official said. "There has been a 50-year tradition at the magazine of older male businessmen like myself managing The Atlantic as a philanthropy," Mr. Bradley said. "It was largely subsidized and dependent on finding the next Mort Zuckerman. I think it's possible I may be the last member of that generation, and we have to find a way to make this wonderful magazine support itself." Dan Capell of Capell's Circulation Report said that The Atlantic had the right idea, although he did not expect many other magazines to follow suit. "With the current advertising climate, I keep thinking you are going to see more people raising their subscription prices," he said. But "I doubt that it will have much of an influence on other people because they are too worried about their ad revenues" David Carey, the publisher of The New Yorker, said of The Atlantic's plan: "Historically, this is really a `bet the franchise' move, and the people who have tried it before have lost. For better or worse, the modern-day publishing model is ad leveraged, not circulation leveraged, despite the efforts of some smart people to change that." Mr. Carey has successfully raised The New Yorker's subscription prices in recent years. Despite advertisers' rhetoric that they prize the quality of circulation more than the quantity, the Hall of Fame for pioneers in circulation is small and littered with corpses. In the summer of 1995, D. Claeys Bahrenburg, then the chief executive of Hearst Magazines, announced that his company would lower the rate bases for 13 of its 15 magazines while raising advertising rates at the same time. Advertisers, none too pleased to be paying more for less, revolted, and Mr. Bahrenburg was out of a job before the end of that year. But some advertisers are beginning to ask tougher questions about the nature and quality of circulation. With the implosion of sweepstakes magazine marketing (like Publishers Clearing House and American Family Publishers), publishers have turned to third-party suppliers, who often increase circulation through high-pressure telemarketing or door-to-door sales. The resulting subscribers renew at very low rates and may cause advertisers to wonder how much the magazine was wanted in the first place. "We spend a lot of time looking at the audit statement," said Linda Thomas Brooks, executive vice president and managing director at GM Mediaworks, a media buying firm for General Motors. "The term that we use is `wantedness,' and I think The Atlantic's plan sounds like it will be a demonstration of that." The Atlantic is not alone in its efforts. Jack Kliger, the chief executive of Hachette Filipacchi Media, has spoken about the need to charge the consumer more, and has acted on his beliefs. In February, for example, the company raised the basic subscription offer for Premiere, the movie magazine, to $12 a year from $10, while dropping the frequency to 10 times a year from monthly. The moves, which coincided with a rate-base cut to 500,000 from 600,000, effectively raised subscription rates by 45 percent. "For an enthusiast magazine like Premiere, consumers are willing to pay more for quality editorial," said David J. Fishman, senior vice president and group publisher of Premiere. Mr. Fishman said that readers see value in the magazine's additional editorial pages and larger format. According to the company, newsstand revenues — the single copy price rose to $3.99 from $3.50 — have increased 18.5 percent. Mr. Fishman said that renewals and for the magazine had increased as well. Mr. Bradley holds The Economist out as a model, and he admires National Public Radio's ability to increase its listenership. He is experimenting with a membership concept that would try to pull more revenues out of readers, with news briefings, branded research and advice on topics like restaurants and wine. It is a difficult proposition, because The Economist offers analysis that many people need to compete, while The Atlantic has long narratives that are seen as good to know, but not essential. How the advertising community will respond to The Atlantic's bold stroke will be revealed next year, when the lower rate base takes effect. "We don't need every 28-year-old ad buyer to think this is a wonderful idea," Mr. Bradley said. "We just need a certain number of people in the advertising community to see the reasonableness of what we are doing." (R:202.106.160.122)

A New 'New Mideast' By THOMAS L. FRIEDMAN back in the mid-1990's there was a lot of talk about "a new Middle East" that seemed to be aborning. It turned out to be, shall we say, "premature" — as the newest new Middle East came crashing down with the collapse of Oslo, the breakdown in Arab-Israeli relations, 9/11 and the massive passive support for Osama bin Laden. With hindsight, it's now easy to see that there could be no "new Middle East" without a new kind of Middle East politics. It was like trying to build a new house on swampland. Eventually, it just sank. Understanding that is the key to understanding the significance of what is happening today. There are two very radical political experiments under way in the Middle East. These two experiments are to the post-9/11 world what the rebuilding of Germany and Japan were to the post-World War II world — at least in terms of the stakes involved. One experiment is the new Palestinian political authority, spearheaded by Prime Minister Mahmoud Abbas, which is attempting to bring real rule of law, financial accountability and control over all military affairs to the Palestinian leadership. Palestinians are trying anew to prove that they can rule themselves responsibly, after so many years of misrule under Yasir Arafat. And the other is the new political authority that was just appointed by the U.S. in Iraq: the 25-person Governing Council, which is set to write a new Iraqi constitution, name ministers and prepare Iraq for elections, as Iraqis try to prove they can rule themselves after so many years of tyranny under Saddam Hussein. These two infant authorities — the one Palestinians brought about by a vote of their own legislature and the one Iraqis had handed to them, thanks to America's toppling of Saddam — are, in theory, fundamental departures from both the style and substance of their predecessors. America and the world have an overwhelming interest in their success. After all, the most important thing America did during the cold war was to rebuild West Germany and Japan. That project tilted the world in our favor and was critical to the containment and ultimate defeat of Soviet Communist totalitarianism. Just as a Germany rebuilt on the foundations of democracy, free markets and the rule of law anchored postwar Western Europe, and a rebuilt Japan was essential to the growth, liberalization and stability of postwar Asia, so a new kind of political authority among Palestinians and Iraqis — who sit at the emotional heart of the Arab and Muslim world — could do the same for the Middle East. This is the only answer to Saddam's secular totalitarianism and Osama's religious totalitarianism. The Bush Pentagon has already, idiotically, wasted critical months in Iraq trying to prove it can do nation-building on the cheap and without serious allies. But this task will also require political capital. President Bush has been right to stipulate to the new Palestinian leadership that there will be no Palestinian state unless it can deliver real security to Israel. But Mr. Bush also has to make clear to Israelis that no Palestinian Authority will be able to deliver that security unless the Palestinian people believe that they're going to get a real state in return — and that means a removal of Israel's West Bank-Gaza settlements, bypass roads, fences, etc. But while there is much that we must do, there is also much that they must do. Palestinians have to want to get rid of Hamas and Islamic Jihad as military groups for their own reasons. You cannot build a new state with parties who believe that it is O.K. to take the flower of Palestinian youth, wrap them in dynamite and have them blow themselves up in Israeli pizza parlors. Nothing normal can come from that. And Iraqis have to prove that they really can work together and are willing to sacrifice for the chance to rule themselves. (Why are we offering them $55 million in rewards for finding Saddam and his sons? They should be paying us!) We don't need U.N. or French troops in Iraq right now. We need more Iraqis who want to sacrifice to be free. When you see Iraqis risking their lives to protect and nurture their new infant self-ruling authority, when you see Palestinians ready to take on the extremists in their midst because they are a cancer on the Palestinians' own future, and when you see a Bush administration ready to pay any price and bear any burden, economic or political, to help them both, then you can legitimately start to speak again about a "new Middle East." (R:202.106.160.122)

托马斯·弗里德曼专栏：赢得真正战争 Winning the Real War July 16, 2003 nyt OP-ED COLUMNIST By THOMAS L. FRIEDMAN last Sunday was the most important day in Iraq since the start of the war, and maybe the most important day in its modern history. It was the first day that one could speak about the "liberation" of Iraq. It was the day that a multireligious, multiethnic Governing Council of Iraqi men and women began to assume some power and responsibility for their own country — the most representative leadership Iraq has ever had. And what was their first act? It was to declare that April 9, the day Saddam Hussein's regime was toppled, would be a national holiday. President Bush, Gen. Tommy Franks and The Weekly Standard could all call April 9 Iraq's V-E Day, but it became real only when the first representative Council of Iraqis embraced that day as their liberation. It is way too early to know whether this appointed Iraqi Council will flourish and pave the way for constitutional government and elections in Iraq, which is its assignment. It will first have to prove itself to the Iraqi people — and prove that while most Iraqis may not want us or Saddam, they do want one another. But these are not quislings, and therefore the Council's formation is a hugely important first step. This is what we came for. There is hope. Had you been watching most American news shows or cable TV last Sunday, though, you would not have gotten a sense of this. They were focused almost exclusively on who was responsible for hyping Saddam's nuclear arms potential. This is understandable. The notion that the president may have misled the nation into war, and then blamed it on the C.I.A., is a big story. For me, though, it is a disturbing thought that the Bush team could get itself so tied up defending its phony reasons for going to war — the notion that Saddam possessed weapons of mass destruction that were undeterrable and could threaten us, or that he had links with Al Qaeda — that it could get distracted from fulfilling the real and valid reason for the war: to install a decent, tolerant, pluralistic, multireligious government in Iraq that would be the best answer and antidote to both Saddam and Osama. If the Bush team wants to win the real war, it must keep its eyes on the prize and that means the following: First, U.S. forces need to finish the war. Sorry, Mr. President, but "major combat" is not over as you declared. Because major combat never happened in the core Sunni Muslim areas of Baghdad and the Sunni triangle to the west, where 80 percent of the attacks on U.S. forces now come from. What happened instead is that two divisions of Saddam's Republican Guards, which dominated these areas, simply melted away, and are now killing U.S. troops. These regions need to be reinvaded and then showered with reconstruction funds. Second, we must provide massive support for the new Council in Iraq to enable it to assume more powers as quickly as possible. The more power it assumes, the more it speaks for Iraq and Iraqis to the Arab world, the more it will be clear that America is the midwife of Iraq's liberation, not its occupier, and those who shoot at us are shooting down Iraq's (and the Arab world's) future. Russia, France and Germany hold most of Iraq's $60 billion in foreign debt. Most of this needs to be forgiven. The Bush team needs to get off its high horse and challenge, and reach out to, Russia, France, Germany and the Arabs — to get those who were so ready to coddle Saddam's dictatorship to support a self-governing Iraq. Third, according to Peter Bouckaert, senior researcher for emergencies at Human Rights Watch, over 20 mass graves have already been uncovered in Iraq, and there may be as many as 90. One grave alone in Hilla is estimated to contain 10,000 people murdered by Saddam's regime. Human Rights Watch estimates that there are 300,000 people missing in Iraq. President Bush is flailing around looking for Saddam's unused weapons of mass destruction, when evidence of his actual mass destruction is all over the place in Iraq. Yet the Pentagon has done almost nothing to help Iraqis properly exhume these graves, prepare evidence for a war crimes tribunal or expose this mass murder to the world. Eyes on the prize, please. If we find W.M.D. in Iraq, but lose Iraq, Mr. Bush will not only go down as a failed president, but one who made the world even more dangerous for Americans. If we find no W.M.D., but build a better Iraq — one that proves that a multiethnic, multireligious Arab state can rule itself in a decent way — Mr. Bush will survive his hyping of the W.M.D. issue, and the world will be a more hospitable and safer place for all Americans. (R:211.150.255.110)

《华盛顿邮报》库茨传媒笔记：希拉里战争 The Hillary Wars By Howard Kurtz Washington Post Staff Writer Tuesday, June 10, 2003; 8:12 AM Five years and $8 million later, we finally learn that Hillary was mad as hell at her husband. Under the circumstances, who wouldn't be? But we just caught the New York senator on TV at a bookstore signing, saying that her husband helped her with the draft – presumably including the parts where she describes what a cad he was and how she wasn't sure she wanted to stay married to him and how the only family member who would hang with him was Buddy the dog. Is this getting weird or what? In order to peddle her memoir, the former first lady is pulling back the curtain just a bit, but no more. She knows she has to dish about the Lewinsky affair – she had NO IDEA that Bill was actually fooling around until the day he confessed to her – but never mentioned the former intern's name in her Barbara Walters lovefest. (Why did Walters practically apologize every time she had to ask an uncomfortable question? Hillary, after all, was putting herself out there to sell books.) With yesterday's first-of-three-parts Katie Couric interview and tonight's Larry King schmooze, the selling of Hillary is off to a high-powered start. But inevitably, it has unleashed yet another round of the Clinton Wars. The legions who don't like HRC predicted she wouldn't say much about the Lewinsky saga. Now that she has, they're attacking what she said. (She did look awfully cool and controlled with Walters, even when discussing the most emotional subjects.) The media, which deep down miss the sex scandals of those years – SO much more fun than covering WMDs – are happy to replay this again and again. And, of course, it enables them to endlessly speculate about Hillary's secret plan to recapture the White House (which conservatives also love to trumpet because it helps them raises truckloads of money). One thing the senator can no longer do is complain about her privacy being invaded. She wrote the book and mounted this media blitz, and the questions about her personal life are now fair game in a way that they wouldn't have been had she just tended to her legislative work. Here's part of what Hillary told Time for its cover story/excerpt: "I don't try to make any judgments about any other people's marriage, because it's a mystery – why two people are attracted to each other, why they love each other, why they marry, why they stay married. And in August 1998 I had to ask myself whether I would continue to stay married or not – whether I could under those circumstances. And that was a very hard decision." Dick Morris, who's become a leading Hillary critic, ramps it up in National Review: "Hillary's formula for defending herself and Bill had always been to challenge their accusers to prove their charges. In sexual cases, it always boiled down to his word against her word and no proof was possible. "Did Hillary believe her husband's denials? Come on. Get real. If Winona Ryder were caught running out of Bloomingdale's clutching an Armani dress with neither a receipt nor a bag, would you assume she hadn't shoplifted? "When Bill told Hillary that all he was doing with Monica was 'ministering to a troubled young girl,' how on earth was the First Lady supposed to believe him? When he added that she was blackmailing him, demanding that he have sex with her, or she'd go public claiming to have had sex with him, could a reasonable, sane person possibly buy his story? No. "Yet in her new book Hillary insists she had no inkling that her husband had lied to her about Monica until the day before his grand-jury testimony. "To buy this latest episode of Hillary's Fables, you'd have to accept that she believed him even after semen was found on Monica's blue dress – and after the FBI took a sample of his DNA, two weeks before his grand-jury testimony. You'd have to be a fool to buy all that." Newsweek's Howard Fineman says this may not be so hot for the Dems: "Before Bill Clinton confessed, Hillary blamed a 'right-wing conspiracy' for all the sex talk about her husband, the president. Now the chatter is back and so is the conspiracy. Only this time the driving force isn't the 'right wing' or the so-called mainstream media. It's the Clintons themselves. "Pity the poor Democrats, especially the ones running for president. They want politics these days to focus on questions such as: where are the weapons of mass destruction George W. Bush told us about? Where are the child-care credits everyone is supposed to get? But the media wants to ask different questions: what do you think of what Hillary Clinton writes in her new autobiography? Do you believe her version? What will Bill's book (out next year) be like? Does this mean Hillary is running for president in 2004 or 2008? "White House political guru Karl Rove couldn't have planned it any better. Just as the Democrats and their candidates are gearing up for the 2004 campaign (their first 'straw poll' is next week in Wisconsin), along comes the Clintons to steal the spotlight and send the party plunging back into an era of chaos and recrimination everyone (except Republican operatives) would just as soon forget. "Of course, there are positive things about the Clinton Years that Democrats want to brag about: 20 million new jobs, record run-ups in the stock markets, rapidly dwindling federal deficits and nearly a decade of entrepreneurial innovation. Al Gore's failure to run on that record is one of the reasons why he lost in 2000. But rehashing the impeachment era isn't a net winner for the Democrats, however much many (including many in the media) now regret the political harshness of that time." David Frum, Bush's ex-speechwriter, sees Hillary as part of a new Axis of Evil: "Lay aside morality for a moment, and consider the world from Hillary's point of view. You are an utterly opportunistic, wholly amoral person. You are married to Bill Clinton and are running for president in 2008. Now then – are your evil purposes better served by pretending to be a surprised, wronged wife who has at last forgiven Bill and 'hope[s] to grow old with him'? Or do you ditch the bum and run as an independent person in your own right? Hillary's betting on the first strategy, but I fear she's making a serious error. "The whole 'working on our marriage' strategy invites the voters to contemplate the prospect of a goatish 60-something Bill Clinton as an under-employed 'First Gentleman' wandering around the White House orientation program for new interns. No it's too horrible. Lose Bill now, let People magazine do its 'Hillary: Single – And Fabulous!' cover story, marry some respectable elderly widower with plenty of ultra-respectable money, and then run for president." Andrew Sullivan dares to doubt Clinton's sincerity: "I was glad to hear the senator from New York sit down with Baba Wawa for an hour. What struck me most was her absolute belief the she and her husband did nothing – nothing – of any substance to deserve the kind of scrutiny they got in eight years in office. Their only fault was naivete. I guess I'm not surprised by the rigidity of her denial and composure. But something in me hoped for a little more – maybe a real reflection on her choices, her decisions, her unelected power, her stonewalling of the press, her enabling of her husband's adulterous relationship with the truth, and so on. But nope. "And then there the sheer fakery of it all. I really wish the real Hillary would simply come out of her shell and be in public what everybody says she is in private: caustic, decisive, aggressive, witty, ambitious, smart. What we saw last night was some saccharine, perfectly-spun middle American home-maker turning literally every question into a perfectly formulated political bromide. Its phoniness made me gag. And at its center is an obvious, big, glaring fib: that she never had an inkling of her husband's long pattern of sexual abuse and harrassment until the August morning he told her of his latest victim. This stretches credulity beyond even Clintonite limits." The Washington Times looks in the index under S: "Independent counsel Kenneth W. Starr overlooked 'rules, procedures and decency' when leading a series of investigations against President Clinton and presided over 'a low moment in American history,' according to Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton's memoirs. "'I have not read the Starr report, but I've been told that the word sex (or some variation of it) appears 581 times in the 445-page report,' Mrs. Clinton, New York Democrat, wrote of Mr. Starr's investigation, which she also categorized as 'a Soviet-style show trial.'" She had a researcher counting the word sex? Roger Simon poses an interesting question: "If the Secret Service agents guarding President Clinton in 1998 had learned that Hillary Clinton 'wanted to wring Bill's neck' for cheating on her, as she says in her new book, what would they have done? "A: Wrestled her to the ground and arrested her for plotting to take the life of the president. "B: Looked the other way. "C: Helped her. "I am betting on C. I covered the Clinton White House during 1998, the 'Year of Monica,' and although it was often exhausting, it was never dull. Today, White House reporters are bored silly. There is tight control over the news and there have been no scandals. "But back in 1998, every day was Anything Can Happen Day. "The President of the United States was down in the Map Room giving 4 milliliters of blood from his right arm so it could be taken to the FBI lab and matched against the evidence on the little blue dress? "Sure, why not? Just another day at the Clinton White House." See? They miss it! They miss it! In Salon, Michael Alvear has an unorthodox take: "If letters to my sex advice column are any indication, gay people perceive Hillary Clinton's struggle with her husband's infidelities much differently than straight people do. "Gay men have the same questions as heterosexuals: What did Hillary know and when did she know it? Did she throw a hissy fit or was she calm, cool and collected? Was Bill Clinton sufficiently apologetic? Did she forgive him? Did she stick by him because she's a 'feminist doormat' or a forgiving Christian? Is their marriage a monument to political expediency or a testament to the resiliency of love? "But gay men also came up with a question that seems to have escaped most heterosexuals: Do Hillary and Bill have an open marriage? "The press has no problem writing about thongs in the Oval Office and cigars in oval orifices, but they get oddly uptight at the thought of unconventional marriage. That's because their readers – mainstream America – do not believe it's possible to be in a deeply loving, committed relationship and still have sex with other people." Now for some policy. David Firestone of the New York Times single-handedly made the GOP's botch of the child tax credit into a major issue, the Democrats jumped on it and now even the president is jumping on the bandwagon: "The White House all but demanded today that House Republicans quickly approve a Senate bill to increase the child tax credit for 6.5 million low-income families. "'Pass it,' said Ari Fleischer, the White House spokesman, when asked what President Bush would say to House Republicans who disagree with the bill. 'His advice to the House Republicans is to pass it, to send it to him, so he can sign it.' "Mr. Fleischer's remarks were the strongest signal to date that the administration wants to extinguish a political brushfire that could damage one of Mr. Bush's most cherished domestic policy achievements – the tax bill that he signed last month." Joe Lieberman is having a hard time making the sale with one group, reports USA Today: "Some Jewish Democrats are ambivalent about a man who is more religious and more conservative than most of them. As proud as most Jews are of Lieberman, he's no longer a novelty and he's not bursting onto the scene on a national ticket. He's scrapping with eight other Democrats, some of whom have more appeal to Jewish liberals than the hawkish, values-oriented Lieberman does. "And he's running in a world beset by terrorism, Middle East violence, anti-Semitism and anti-American sentiment. The Israeli-Palestinian peace process sits at a delicate early stage. All that leads some Jews to wonder if it's the right time for a Jewish president. . . . "Lieberman's pollster, Mark Penn, says Lieberman has a 93% approval rating among Jews. But only about half that percentage pick him when asked whom they'd vote for in a Democratic primary." The rest of their votes remain in a lox box. Glenn Reynolds, on TechCentralStation, sees pressure from the Net as speeding along the Raines/Boyd resignations at the New York Times: "In the old days, if you didn't like what you read in the newspaper, you could either complain to your neighbors, or send a letter to the editor that – maybe – would be published days or weeks later, when everyone had forgotten the story you were complaining about. And if you worked at a newspaper, you couldn't even do that. Newspapers aren't very enthusiastic about publishing letters from unhappy employees. "For the Times, though, it became painfully obvious how that old system has broken down. From the outside, bloggers like Andrew Sullivan and Mickey Kaus, along with specialty sites like TimesWatch, kept up constant pressure. Every distortion and misrepresentation (and there were plenty, of course) was picked up and noted. The result was a steady diminution of the Times' prestige among the opinion-making classes, something that opened it up for criticism in a way that it once didn't have to face because of the quasi-mystical awe in which many journalists have traditionally held it. (And no, that's not an exaggeration.) "Meanwhile, the Internet also opened things up from the inside. Unhappy Times staffers in previous years could have grumbled to their colleagues at other papers, but such grumbling would have been largely futile. Now, on the other hand, thanks to email and websites such as Jim Romenesko's (and quite a few blogs that got leaked information), they could grumble to a major audience. They could also engage in that most devastating of insider activities, the leaking of sanctimonious and dumb internal memos from the bosses. (Note to bosses: If you distribute your dumb and sanctimonious memos on paper instead of via email, you'll face less of that because people can't just hit 'forward' and send them on. Of course, another approach might be to write memos that aren't dumb and sanctimonious . . . )." But that would spoil the fun. (R:211.150.247.20)