Category Archives: bio

Girls Who Love Horses

Actually, my first love was dinosaurs: at age eight, I knew everything about them. I had a set of dinosaur cards which I could put in chronological order, and I knew that a tyrannosaurus could never have eaten a dimetrodon – they lived millions of years apart, in completely different eras.

I don’t remember exactly when or why horses took over in my imagination; perhaps it started with the books. In fourth grade, we moved to the larger campus of the International School of Bangkok, with a much bigger library. I devoured every book I could find about horses, especially those by Marguerite Henry (Amazon UK | US), with beautiful, full-color illustrations by Wesley Dennis (they don’t print them like that anymore). I bought the few horse books available in Bankok’s paltry English-language bookshop; these were classic English girls-and-ponies stories, recounting a life that seemed very exotic: imagine being able to live at a school where you could also keep your very own pony!

I had very little experience of real horses. When we took family trips to Pattaya Beach, my big treat was a half-hour ride, led by the bridle by the horse hire man. I was always frustrated: I wanted him to let go, so the pony and I could gallop on the sand, just like the scenes in my favorite book, Henry’s “King of the Wind.” There was a polo club in or near Bangkok, where we went once a year for the big American Fourth of July bash. It was possible to take riding lessons there, but my parents never offered; I don’t know why.

I rode in my imagination, and I drew horses, practicing constantly, looking at Wesley Dennis’ pictures for reference. If I couldn’t be near horses, I wished I could at least draw them properly. I felt a thrill of pride the day I finally produced something that really looked like a horse.

The summer my dad and I returned to the US, we visited my aunt Rosie and cousin Casey in the Texan countryside where, to my great delight, I got to ride a few times. When we settled in Pittsburgh, I begged to take lessons, but that was more than my dad could afford as a grad student. I kept riding in my dreams, now with Walter Farley in the Black Stallion books. My mother sent from Thailand a Chinese brush-style painting of two black-and-white horses, which had pride of place in my room among my posters and pictures – mostly of horses.

I spent the summer of 1972 with Rosie and Casey again. Casey had her own horse then, a big palomino called Flash, and there was a small horse for me, a docile old pinto mare called Dolly. We rode, though not as much as I would have liked (Casey was a teenager by then, and had other concerns). We often rode bareback, since it seemed cruel to put heavy western saddles on the horses in the Texas heat. We’d canter across the fields, poor old Dolly laboring gallantly to keep up with Flash. At the end of each ride, we’d steer them into the “tank,” an artificial pond full of muddy water, so they could cool off and drink. On the last day of my visit, we were mounting up for a farewell ride when Flash reared, startled by a puppy that suddenly shot out from under the barn. Casey fell and, landing awkwardly, broke her arm.

The following summer I attended a girl scout camp in Pennsylvania whose activities included riding. I was delighted to do everything with “my” own horse: cleaning, tacking up, feeding, and of course riding. It was a glorious two weeks, except for the time a camp counselor tried to make me drink tomato juice.

I don’t remember getting anywhere near horses while we lived in Connecticut. Then we moved to Bangladesh, and eventually I went to Woodstock School in India. It’s possible to hire horses in Mussoorie, but our allowance as students didn’t stretch that far, and these ponies were such sad, skinny little things that I felt more pity than desire to ride them.

I spent my freshman college year at the University of California, Santa Cruz. Alongside formal classes, the university offered short, informal courses, including riding (off campus). So I began to learn English riding, and again took care of my own horse. He was huge, with hooves the size of dinner plates; I affectionately called him “Moose.”

From my sophomore year of college, I transferred to the University of Texas in Austin. Here, again, I looked for opportunities to ride, finally finding a cheap place out of town where you could hire a horse and ride around in barren fields among the mesquite bushes (not a place you’d want to fall off). I was on my way there one day when I ran a red light and wrecked my grandmother’s old car, which put an end to both driving and riding for some time (I wasn’t hurt in the accident, but had no other way to get out there).

Horses vanished from my life after that, except in artwork and in dreams. The last two embroidery projects I did, during pregnancy and early motherhood, were a pair of carousel horses, for my friends Stephanie and Robin. But the Chinese painting still hangs in my home, and, whenever I doodle on paper, horses flow out of my pen. I rarely got to see horses in Milan, but sometimes we’d run across them elsewhere, and I’d stop to gaze.

It’s all Ilaria’s fault that Rossella got the bug. Ilaria had been Ross’ classmate since preschool. When they were eight years old, she began riding at a stable in Milan, and one day took Ross along to try it out. I was travelling, so didn’t get to see Ross’ historic first lesson, but I heard all about it by phone – it took only the one lesson for Ross to fall in love.

I could afford lessons for her, and had a flexible enough schedule that I could accompany her to them two or three times a week. I made good use of the time: while Ross was riding ponies, I took lessons on horses. She progressed faster than I did, partly because I was travelling a lot for work and had to rebuild muscle after each absence. But I finally became comfortable cantering and jumping, and even got a bit cocky. They say you’re not really riding until you start falling off; I was really riding! Ross and I used to keep score; we were neck-and-neck (in number of falls) for about the first year.

I finally got scared the time I fell on my head. It wasn’t the horse’s fault; I lost my balance after a jump, and just tipped off over his shoulder. I remember the trip down, looking at the horse’s hooves and wondering if I was going to fall under them. I don’t remember the impact, nor anything else for 15-20 minutes after that. I was never unconscious, but there’s a blank in my memory: the next thing I knew, I found myself in the clubhouse, talking to someone, having no idea how I got there, though apparently I had done so under my own steam.

I went to the hospital for x-rays, but there was no damage (I had been wearing a proper riding cap, of course), just a fierce headache. But the joy went out of it for me; I was scared of jumping, but bored of trotting around in the manege, and in Milan there’s no place to ride outdoors. So eventually I gave it up, and these days I’m just an observer.

Rossella continued to ride, and to fall, and to love horses madly. She would volunteer to clean the school ponies, which students were not required to do (their groom loved her). We’d spend hours in the stables, just being with horses, which made us both happy.

The riding school in Milan is very competition-oriented, so the usual progression is from the basics and “pony games” competitions on school ponies, to sharing a pony or buying your own, and moving on to higher competitions. Ross began show jumping on a shared pony in 1999, and in 2000 we began looking for one to buy.

The buying project was delayed by our abortive move to California, but when I returned to Milan definitively in 2001, it was time to look again. Ross had attended riding camp at Wellington Riding in England three summers in a row, so we enlisted their aid in finding a pony for her in England (even with travel costs etc., this is cheaper than buying a pony in Italy, where few ponies are bred). We made a special trip up there in September, 2001, and found Hamish. He finally arrived in Milan in November.

…and this is getting long, so I will gush about Hamish some other time!

The Beginning of the End

A number of people wrote to say that they liked my dad’s piece in the last newsletter; some liked it enough to forward it to others (which you are welcome to do). I liked it, too, but I’m glad and very relieved that Iraq does not, after all, look like turning into another Vietnam.

One Italian headline this morning read: “Baghdad falls, Iraqis celebrate, Pacifists embarrassed.” Indeed. It does begin to seem that, whether Bush’s reasons for going into this were right or wrong, the end result of getting rid of Saddam is appreciated by the Iraqi people. Let’s just hope we get the peace right.

Meanwhile, back in Italy… the American flag story I overheard turned out to have a backstory that I had missed. It was reported in the papers that someone in Milan had hung an American flag on their balcony; subsequently the entrance door to the entire building was ripped out by vandals. So, in the case I heard about nearer to home, the condo association’s fears (that an American flag on display would result in building damage) were fully justified. Probably the homeowner’s association of the first building are now arguing about who should pay for the repairs.

Rossella has been telling me about her classmates’ discussions about the war. Some of these kids say they are Communist, which they assume automatically means anti-war. Others say they are Fascist. I wonder if any of them know what either term actually means? Many make sweeping statements like: “Of course everyone’s for peace.” But one girl in her class is well-informed, and expounds her views very skillfully; Ross thinks she’ll grow up to be a politician. This Lucia has told her classmates that America has actually been at war since September 11th, and that, while war is bad, some wars, including this one, are justified. I am glad to see that at least one kid in the bunch thinks for herself, and says what she thinks.

April 14, 2003

Yesterday there was a street fair on Viale Monza, and Forza Italia (Berlusconi’s political party) had a booth selling flags. The US and British ones were most prominently displayed (and largest), alongside Italian and Forza Italia flags, and some of a design I’d never seen before, saying “Liberta’ e Pace” (freedom and peace). Trying to make local political capital out of a victory in which Italy barely participated…

LT Smash

August 28, 2003

I’ve been reading his weblog from the war zone since March; he’s a very good writer, with a wry sense of humor that well suits the situation he found himself in. Now he’s finally arrived home after eight months in the Gulf.

Hearts and Minds, Echoes in the Desert

written by my father, Al Straughan:

I do support the British and American troops in Iraq, though I regret that they are there and I believe that there are no good reasons for their being there. I further regret that all of this cannot simply end and the troops be withdrawn, because this would only be another betrayal of the Iraqi people. Europe and Britain and America cannot afford another betrayal in the Middle East. Neither can we afford the dilemma in which we now find ourselves. There are no easy answers, but we must continue to ask the difficult questions and search for answers.

Those who are now making policy and war, and were adults in the 1960’s, should remember where certain attitudes once took America; “winning hearts and minds” is one such attitude. I am Al Straughan, Deirdré’s Dad; I am one of those Americans, and I do remember those attitudes.

As each day in Iraq proceeds, my sense of deja vu is overwhelming. From July 1967 to July 1969 I took part in the American effort to “win hearts and minds” in Vietnam. This phrase refers to the so-called “Pacification Program,” in which I participated as an American Foreign Service Officer, specifically an employee of the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), the agency responsible for administering U.S. foreign assistance programs. In Vietnam, I was assigned to the office called “Civil Operations, Revolutionary Development Support” (CORDS), the proper name of the Pacification Program.

The British first conceived the idea of “pacification” during the Malaysian Emergency, when they built fortified villages known as “strategic hamlets”. This practice of separating a group of people from guerrillas was feasible in Malaysia, where the majority of the guerrillas were ethnic Chinese, recognizably different from the Malay majority. Winning hearts and minds in Malaysia meant that a separated and defensible population was safe from harm by guerrillas; this strategy helped to defeat the Malaysian insurgency.

American military and intelligence planners sought to repeat the Malaysian success by applying the pacification concept in Vietnam. Unfortunately, several key conditions were strikingly different in Vietnam. The vast majority of the natives of Vietnam were ethnically homogenous, and most of them simply and sincerely wished to be an independent country, free of colonial or neo-colonial influence and control. Throughout the American involvement in Vietnam, most Vietnamese openly or tacitly supported the ultimate aims of the National Liberation Front.

The aim of winning hearts and minds in Vietnam was illogical. On the one hand, Americans and their often-reluctant South Vietnamese allies were prosecuting war against other Vietnamese, and all Vietnamese suffered as a result. The planners said that “Strategic Hamlets” would offer sanctuary from the NLF, and a better economic life. In fact, the defending forces left these villages to their own devices at dusk. There were virtually no “pacified” areas anywhere in Vietnam after dark; this meant that there was never any real chance of winning hearts and minds, and America’s inability to admit to this was a daily betrayal of trust.

To this day, many Americans who served in Vietnam (and many who did not) feel that the war in Vietnam could have been won. Many never yet question whether this war should have been fought in the first place. Those who are making war in Iraq today fall into one or both of these categories.

Whether America is invading or liberating Iraq depends on one’s point of view. My own understanding of the United Nations Charter indicates that an invasion has taken place when one nation-state enters the territory of another nation-state, against that state’s will, through force of arms. We have come to understand the term “liberation” as referring to driving out the armed force of a nation-state that has invaded and occupied the territory of another nation-state (against its will),
through force of arms. Thus, the coalition that drove Iraq’s armed forces from Kuwait “liberated” Kuwait from Iraq’s occupying forces.

Under the UN Charter, as reiterated by Secretary General Kofi Annan, the “Coalition” forces have invaded Iraq. However, again as best I understand the term, this is not a “war,” as there has been no declaration of war. Most simply, the current situation might be best termed an (illegal) “military action.” This action has two stated objectives:

Objective 1. To remove Saddam Hussein and the Ba’ath party from power in Iraq, to “change the political regime” of Iraq through force of arms.

This objective must be achieved first in order to achieve the second objective, and it is justified based on Saddam Hussein and the Ba’ath party being guilty of crimes against humanity. There is no question that the Ba’athist regime has been guilty of crimes against humanity since it took power in 1963.

However: the Ba’ath party took power as the result of a coup that overthrew the King of Iraq, engineered by the CIA under orders from John F. Kennedy. The architect of this coup was Robert Komer, the chief of the Pacification Program in Vietnam when I arrived there in 1967.

As the United States was the agent of the Ba’athist assumption of power, is it (by the logic now current) also responsible for the crimes committed by that regime, particularly as America repeatedly provided the WMD’s that Saddam has used in the past, often at America’s urging.

If we apply the logic being used by George W. Bush and his War Cabinet, the United States would be guilty of war crimes

Objective 2. To disarm Iraq of its (putative) weapons of mass destruction (WMD’s).

This second objective rests upon the still-unproven assumption that Iraq actually possesses such weapons, and that this possession is a direct, or (through terrorist clients) indirect threat to the members of the coalition and to the peace and security of the international community. Thus far, – on Day 11 of the war – no WMD’s have been discovered.

George W. Bush and his War Cabinet clearly said, before the conflict began, that the (cowardly) “Iraqi army would fall to pieces when they saw American troops and they would then capitulate en masse.” Unfortunately, they did not, they have not, and they are not yet doing so.

Bush et al also told the world that the aerial “shock and awe” campaign would “take out” Iraq’s command and control structure and paralyze their ability to command or manoeuvre. Now on Day 11, two to three days of the repeated bombing of Iraqi TV and communications installation has not even been able to shut down TV transmissions. Although the Coalition military is clearly able to kill large numbers of Iraqi troops, these troops continue to be controlled by the regime in Baghdad and elsewhere. “Bunker Buster” bombs have penetrated hardened concrete, but targeting strategists have been no more able to locate redundant systems of communication than they have been able to pinpoint the location of Saddam’s person since the failed “decapitation” of Day 1.

“They’re taking off their uniforms and fighting as guerrillas!” (or) “They’re not fighting as guerrillas because the population does not support them.” (and) “They’re violating the Geneva Convention by photographing POWs.”

All of these contradictory statements raise a fundamental question: Has the “Coalition” declared war on Iraq? If so, I am unaware of it, as are the American Congress and the British Parliament. A similar question arose in Afghanistan and this (again, if I understand correctly) lay behind the status of those currently detained in Guantanamo Bay by American military forces:

America did not declare war in Afghanistan.

Therefore, America claims, the Geneva Convention on prisoners of war does not apply, and America has called the Guantanamo detainees “foreign combatants.”

(America did say that it would act in accordance with the Geneva Convention and there was no need for Amnesty International nor the International Red Cross to inspect their conditions.)

If you the reader are confused at this point, so am I.

But let€™s move away from international law – which nobody understands – and simply look at the reality of the situation on the ground in Iraq.

An informal coalition of foreign military powers has invaded Iraq with the stated intent of displacing the regime that holds currently holds power and then disarming the nation, after which it will administer the economic and political and foreign affairs of Iraq through a military governor appointed by the invading coalition.

If you were an Iraqi citizen, would you consider whether you were a “legitimate soldier” before you took up arms to defend your country? Would you worry about putting on a uniform? This is the reality of the ordinary Iraqi citizen, even though he or she may detest Saddam and the Ba’ath party. Moreover, should an Iraqi citizen wave in a friendly manner to a Coalition soldier (as we were told they surely would), that citizen is likely to be immediately shot as a traitor. There are reports earlier today that this happened to a woman in Basra — she was publicly
hung for waving to Coalition troops.

America told the world that we were in Vietnam at the request of the legitimate government, and that our objective was to help the Republic of South Vietnam to establish a democratic government and a free way of life. Over time, successive American governments came to believe that. The more we believed it, the louder we were prepared to shout it, and the greater our commitment in blood and money had to grow in order to make the world believe that we were sincere.

Oh, yes… we also had to require blood from the Vietnamese allies we were supporting.

George W. Bush and his War Cabinet told the world (and believed themselves) that the Iraqis were cowards who would quickly surrender and cheer the demise of Saddam Hussein and the Ba’ath party. The US therefore could not send a massive army to invade Iraq: “That would send the wrong message to the world.” The coalition army would have to be “slim and flexible”, “One of our boys is easily worth ten or even twenty of theirs!” “Anyway, the Iraqi people are just waiting to rise up, and then it will be all over!”

And so, over the strongest objections of the military (though this is now denied by General Franks), Rumsfeld sent a force only half as strong as recommended by those who had fought the Iraqis previously. Now the American and British troops in the field must wait up to thirty days for their forces to be doubled. Now, much like Vietnam, it’s the grunts who are betrayed by Pentagon Planners wearing 50s hairstyles and 40s eyeglasses and building policies from the times (and philosophy) of Richard the Lion-Hearted (who died, a long way from home, after losing to Saladin).

“Winning Hearts and Minds”, a Reprise

So now, George W. and his War Cabinet need excuses. Basra has become the microcosm that will tell us much of the future of this adventure. When we first heard of Basra, it was “not a military objective”. Now – at about 1600 GMT on 30/03/03 – Day 11 – it is a military objective. (However, I have not heard an update for over an hour.)

Three days ago, there was a “popular uprising” in Basra.

“Wait, Oh, no, it isn’t an uprising, it’s refugees trying to escape the cruel regime, and someone opened fire to prevent their escape.”

“Well, they were and are refugees, and they were caught in crossfire between the defenders of Basra (whoever they are) and Coalition troops.”

At the same time, we viewers of this increasingly surreal event have followed the story of a ship (improbably named “Sir Galahad”) “full” of food and water to aid the refugees and thereby “win their hearts and minds.” (“Full” is a relative term. Two hundreds tons of food and water will roughly cover Monday morning for over one million people.)

Wait a minute. Why are these people refugees? Because:

  • People are shooting artillery and mortars back and forth, and many of the shells are landing on their homes.
  • Food cannot be brought into Basra because of the fighting.
  • Artillery has knocked out the electricity that powers the supply of water to the town.

In other words, they are refugees because the Coalition invaded Iraq.

In the next step, these refugees from the fighting will be brought to temporary shelter in a tent city somewhere. No doubt they will be grateful for these tents, as they are so much easier to maintain than the brick and mortar dwellings they once called home.

We can expect that there will be undercover enemy agents among these genuine refugees. The refugees, now loyal to the democratic way of life, must be protected against such agents, who presumably want to maintain an independent Iraq without a foreign military governor. This means that a military defence perimeter must be established and the refugee camp surrounded by barbed wire. Of course, the good refugees must be issued ID cards, and their movements in and out of the camp carefully monitored.

Now, the refugees will be happy and secure, and their hearts and minds considered to have been won.

Don’t laugh – this was essentially the method we used in Vietnam to determine that an area had been pacified.

Since the end of WWII, the United States has been responsible (at least as far as we know now) for the following changes of regime: Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, Iran, Guatemala, Panama, Grenada, Afghanistan and, let us not forget…

Iraq – engineered by the CIA under orders from John F. Kennedy in 1963 under the direction of Robert Komer, later chief of the Pacification Program in Vietnam.

There was one other previous attempt to change a regime through force of arms, but the effort failed and nearly ignited a nuclear war: the invasion of Cuba. History has not yet judged the success of these changes of regime, but none was bloodless, and their justifications were always questionable.

The last clear, unambiguous victory of democracy happened in June, 1945, with the conclusion of WWII. Since that time, only one other “war” has ended with some degree of satisfaction for the generally democratic community: the Cold War. Every other military effort since June, 1945, has either clearly failed, or has left great unanswered questions lying amidst the blood and bodies and unfulfilled aspirations of the poor and hungry of the world. The great questions of hunger and oppression have never been resolved through military force; at best, it only postponed the issues.

Now Iraq, like Vietnam, has brought this entire set of issues into the 21st century, and it deserves a descriptive term of its own. I would like to offer “Wars of National Frustration” to characterize this latest pointless and horrific attempt to enforce the noble concept of democratic freedom through the illegitimate force of arms.

I hope that America can one day admit that it should never have fought the war in Vietnam.

I hope that America can one day agree that it is wrong to attempt to change the regime of another country by force.

I hope that America can one day commit its people, its resources, and its fundamentally decent and humane values to peaceful change, and assume the moral leadership of the fight against weapons of mass destruction by unilaterally destroying its own stockpiles of these terrible things that should never have been produced.

Al Straughan, in a village in the Chilterns, England – 30 March 2003

Following the War

I’ve read that many Americans, and probably others, are obsessively watching the war coverage on television – and that coverage is closer, more immediate, and probably scarier than we’ve ever seen before.

I’m avoiding the television. I get plenty upset just thinking about it all; I have a vivid imagination and don’t need supplemental images. Instead, I read web news constantly, via several sources. news.google.com is my homepage nowadays. It’s a portal, still in beta testing, which displays several different articles on each top story, refreshing every 5 or 10 minutes. It’s interesting to compare how different sources worldwide cover the same news. I receive the New York Times headlines daily by email, with links to the full articles on their website. You have to register to read the articles, but it’s free, and well worth it.

I check CNN.com now and then just to see the all-American perspective. And I’ve been listening to National Public Radio, an American news source I trust, via their site. I keep open the front page of Il Corriere della Sera, the Italian newspaper, mostly because they have a constantly-updated stream of wire feed headlines. Offline, as always, I read The Economist each week.

When I can’t take any more war news, I go to Slayage for articles about Buffy.


One place to monitor public opinion, strangely enough, is the binaries groups on the Usenet. This is where people post music, movies, TV shows, etc. for others to download, generally the most popular music, TV shows, and movies. But these activities can take on a political flavor. Right now some of the music groups feature collections of American patriotic songs. And, in one of the country music groups, someone is posting Dixie Chicks songs with headings like “music for traitors” and “to oppose the war is to support terrorism.” (These statements don’t go unchallenged.)

In the video groups, people are posting excerpts from American news programs, including one titled “This is why we fight – Iraq executions, 1991.” (No, I didn’t download that.) Only two parts of the Oscars have been posted, the “In Memoriam” section, and Michael Moore’s acceptance speech.

Italian Incidents

Three cars belonging to American personnel have have been burned in Vicenza (near the Aviano airbase). One was a Jeep Wrangler, very obviously the property of an American. (There aren’t many of those in Italy, for good reason: fuel costs four times as much in Italy as in the US, and there are many streets where a car that size simply wouldn’t fit.) A group calling itself “I Nuclei Territoriali Antimperialisti” has claimed responsibility.

Though for thinking people it’s not true, it’s hard not to feel that, for many Europeans, pacifism equals anti-Americanism. The US Embassy emailed yet another warning this week about avoiding demonstrations. I overheard a conversation in our local bar the other day: An American couple living in a nearby building had draped US flags from their balconies. They were asked by their homeowners’ association to remove them, to avoid vandalism to the building.

We’re erring on the side of paranoia, perhaps. Ross bought a trendy new school backpack a few weeks ago. She chose a model with the Union Jack on it, because she’s very fond of England and her relatives there. When the war started, we got a bit worried about that. So she has temporarily traded (for his plain blue model) with a schoolmate who will never be mistaken for a Brit or an American.

News Coverage of the Second Iraq War

I find the news coverage of this war emotionally confusing, when contrasted with my memories. When we returned to the US in 1972, I had my first exposure to television news. At the time, Walter Cronkite closed every evening’s newscast with a list of American and Vietnamese (north and south) casualties – which ran to the hundreds most days, if I remember correctly. I now suppose that it was his way of protesting, but at the time it upset me; I felt he was being callously dismissive of all those deaths. I had a personal stake: my dad had been in Vietnam (as a civilian, with the US Agency for International Development), and could easily have been one of those numbers.

So it feels odd to me that every news source hurries to reports when one or two or a dozen of ours are killed. I want to scream: “It’s a war, people, what did you expect?” I could well be misinterpreting, but I wonder if the Powers That Be, and/or the media, have tried to persuade the American public that you can have a war without any actual casualties on your own side. That you can be a soldier without actually risking your life in combat.

I don’t really even know what I’m saying here, and am very confused about my own feelings. But, for what it’s worth, I’m sharing them with you.

I find it grimly ironic that the American news media are making a big deal over whether or not to show the Al Jazeera footage of captured and killed Americans. I understand the need for delay, of course: their families should not have to learn about it from television. But all this public soul-searching and breast-beating by the news organizations – so that the decision to air or notitself becomes news – is that necessary?

For better or for worse, the Italian media has no qualms: the footage was shown yesterday on TV, and can be viewed on the website of Italy’s major newspaper, Il Corriere della Sera. Apparently the bodies were edited out of this version, but it seems to show the entirety of the interviews.


In Italy, the protests continue, large and small, organized and not. Saturday there was a big demonstration downtown. Ross and I were on the metro when a number of the demonstrators were heading home, with their rainbow peace flags, scarves, etc. (After many visits to San Francisco, I associate the rainbow flag with gay pride. I was confused when I saw the first peace flags weeks ago – it seemed unlikely that so many gays had suddenly come out in our neighborhood!)

One of the protestors was wearing a sweater with a large “Levi’s USA” label. Mixed metaphor?

I wasn’t paying attention to their conversation, until a guy sitting next to me jumped in, saying: “These Americans have it easy against the Iraqis. If they took on the Russians or Chinese, it would be a different story.” Huh? Does he think the US is doing this just to beat up on somebody? Then he added: “I’m a leftist.” Meaning what? That you’re automatically anti-American? But I squelched my combative nature, and kept all these thoughts to myself.

I would have more sympathy with the protestors if I were convinced that more of them actually knew what they were talking about. I am always willing to listen to an intelligent argument on any side of a question. But I suspect that many are anti-war and anti-American simply because it’s trendy and fun to go to peace marches, hang out flags, etc. And, for the schoolkids, it’s a great excuse not to go to classes. But do they really know anything about the issues?


Berlusconi, meanwhile, manages to have his cake and eat it, too. After a vituperative debate in parliament, US airbases in Italy are allowed to be used for logistical support, but not as a point of departure for bombing runs, “because we are a non-belligerent country.” This after Berlusconi’s many eager protestations of support to Bush and Blair over the last few months. Airbases in Germany are being used in exactly the same way.