ГУСЬКОВА (1). 1. Инфинитив в функции определения
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7. «The Right Product at Right Time» Tokyo — Less than a generation ago, the Japanese automobile was little known, and less respected, around the world. Even Japanese consumers were convinced that, could they afford it, the longer, plusher, gas-guzzling models of the United States, or the more bizarrely sporty autos of Europe, were preferable to their own modest products. But times have changed. Last year, Japanese industry exported 5,966,961 vehicles (including trucks), or fully 54 per cent of its entire 195 production. Most of those were directed to markets in the United States and Europe where, for a variety of reasons, Japanese cars have become the rage. Japanese manufacturers claim they were as surprised as anyone by the surging demand for their product. «We just happened to have the right product at the right time,» says one automobile executive. As they tell it, the rising popularity of Japanese automobiles in the American market was due much more to the sudden increase in the price of oil than to any «blitz» or economic offensive on their part. When prices at the local pump doubled in less than a year, and American auto manufacturers were unable to supply a sufficient number of fuel-efficient cars, Japanese auto dealers moved in to fill the gap. In Detroit it is widely presumed that the ills of the American auto industry are largely caused by the Japanese «assault». Had the Japanese restrained themselves, and not taken advantage of the situation, the 30 per cent unemployment figure for U.S. auto workers would not have arisen, claim the U.S. auto makers. The Japanese are convinced that their success in the United States is not the primary factor behind the financial and marketing failure of the U.S. companies. They argue that it was American auto mismanagement rather than Japanese «offensives» that resulted in the deficits. But fuel efficiency must be only part of the problem, especially if the success of Japanese makers in the European countries is considered. There, the high quality of Japanese goods, their comparatively low price, and the excellent after-sales network are sales points, as in Europe the Japanese are competing against local producers well-stocked in fuel-efficient cars. Despite their success, Japanese auto makers and observers of the auto scene are increasingly uneasy about the future. On the one hand, they face the prospect of a tide of protection in the United States as well as in Europe. On the other hand, the Japanese auto makers are caught on the horns of a domestic dilemma. With the Japanese auto market also stagnating — sales and registration at home are slack, and many dealerships are in deficit— they are under increasing pressure to export. One highly touted, long-range solution to Japan's embarrassment of auto riches is the internationalization of Japan's auto industry. Already, there are clear signs that Japanese auto makers are moving to produce a large number of their vehicles overseas, no matter what the consequences for Japanese employment. Given the fate of other auto makers, the Japanese should consider themselves quite fortunate. With most of the world's big car producers in deficit, the worst the big Japanese makers have to report is a slight decline in profits. 8. Nasty, ubiquitous and unloved Skinheads have been frightening a lot of people in post-communists Centra! Europe, but several governments are trying to control them Among the countless plaques and memorials in the ancient bit of Hungary's capital overlooking the Danube is one that mourns German and Hungarian soldiers who died trying to break out of Buda Castle at the end of the second world war. This was where, on February 13th, 500-odd neo-Nazi skinheads from around Europe gathered to lament the passing on the « SS heroes», after which they headed off to a nightclub called the Viking. When police appeared at the club and started asking for passports, the skinheads rioted. Several policemen ended up in hospital, 30 foreign skinheads were arrested, six of whom were quickly tried and found guilty of assault. So it goes for skinheads: thuggery at home pilgrimages to Nazi memorials and scrapes with the law abroad. Do not expect an eloquent exchange of opinions with Central Europe's shaven heads. When interviewed, they say little, standing arms crossed, fists clenched, eyes burning. Nor are their dogs, often pit bulls with sharpened incisors, much more friendly. The skinheads' preferred method of communication is a boot swiftly and repeatedly administered in the face of a prone victim, though in one recent attack Slovak skinheads did use baseball bats to beat a gypsy boy almost to death. Their favourite targets are indeed gypsies, followed by African students, sundry other ethnic minorities, drug addicts and the homeless. There are differences between an average West European skinhead and his counterpart farther east. Not all western ones are neo-Nazis; not all are violent; some even call themselves «anti-racists», and enjoy Jamaican reggae music. There are anarchist skinheads in the West, even glad-to-be-gay skinheads. But in Central Europe to be a skinhead is, on the whole, to be violent. Post-communist skinheads tend to swallow a mix of white supremacy, neo-Nazi dogma, and nationalism tailored to the country in question. Their numbers vary from country to country, but have been going up. Government and police tend to deflate figures; human-rights groups and the skinheads themselves usually bump them up. One serious study, by the Anti-Defamation League in New York, reckons that, of some 70,000 hardcore neo-Nazi skinheads worldwide, Central Europe now accounts for a good quarter. Last month, working together with the Czech secret service, police arrested 12 leading skinheads said to belong to the Czech chapter of a British-based «Blood and Honour» gang. They also confiscated neo-Nazi propaganda due to be sold at a skinhead concert, and declared that neo-Nazis across the country had suffered a crippling blow. 196 197 Human-rights watchers are less sure. Skinhead groups are well run. They distribute propaganda printed by American neo-Nazis in various languages and send out «skinzines» illegally through the post. The Czechs alone have 15 of them. They are nasty, but it may be hard to pin charges of inciting hatred on the arrested skinheads. Still, many Central Europeans are trying to stem the skinhead tide. A few days after the riot in the Viking club, several thousand Hungarians gathered to protest against racism. Judges are being sent on courses to make them more aware of racially motivated crimes. The police are hiring gypsy advisers. It is only a start. But the alarm bells have rung: more and more decent Central Europeans reckon that something must be done. 9. Living without it At the University of Texas Law School, the halls are whiter than they once were. Three years after a federal court ruled in Hopwood v Texas that public universities in the state could no longer use race as a factor when considering applicants, there are a mere eight black students in a first-year class of 455 at the law school, a smaller percentage than in 1950. Although Texas is ground zero in the fight over racial preferences in American universities, it is far from the only battlefield. Last November, voters in Washington state passed a referendum similar to California's Proposition 209, banning racial preferences in college admissions. In both Washington and Michigan, lawsuits similar to the Texas case have been filed against the public universities. For 30 years, American universities sought to increase racial diversity by recruiting and admitting minority candidates, sometimes at the expense of white candidates with better qualifications. This practice went unchallenged until 1978, when the Supreme Court ruled that, although rigid racial quotas were unconstitutional, universities could take race into account since there was a «compelling interest» in promoting diversity in America's colleges. Proponents of affirmative action, including most university administrators, feel they need only point to the decline of minority enrolment in the best public universities in California and Texas in the two years since the ban on racial preferences went into effect. Conservative opponents of preferences admit that minority numbers have decreased at the most selective public universities in Texas and California. Yet they point to the fact that enrolment of blacks and Latinos throughout the state system has remained stable since 1996. The way to guarantee more minority students at the top universities in the future, conservatives argue, is to address the twin pillars of social disintegration: broken schools and broken families. Opponents of racial preferences also accuse the other side of double standards: on the one hand lamenting the decline of black and Latino enrolment since 1996, yet at the same time ignoring the dramatic increase in the number of Asians admitted during that period. Long boasting the highest scores on standardised tests among minority groups, Asians have never needed preferential treatment from universities, and are now benefiting from the new system. Both sides arm themselves with government studies and self-serving statistics; yet most people concede that very little can be done at the political level. The future of racial preferences rests with the courts. What the legal system cannot do, however, is address the root of the problem: the fact that black and Latino students still lag woefully behind their white counterparts. So long as this grim reality persists, the system will remain broken, and no amount of judicial tinkering will fix it. II. ТЕКСТЫ ДЛЯ ПИСЬМЕННОГО ПЕРЕВОДА Проанализируйте текст, выделите переводческие трудности и сделайте письменный перевод. 1. What the EU Needs Is a Copy of «The Federalist» Papers Los Angeles — It may be indelicate for an American to point out, but now that the start-up of Economic and Monetary Union has accelerated the European Union's pace toward full economic integration, the US experience may provide some useful lessons. Not that we do everything right or that we provide a precise model for the working of a somewhat similar economy, but some long-standing American economic interactions do resemble those developing on the old Continent. In at least three areas of economics — monetary policy, taxes, and fiscal policy — we've been there, done that. Together, the three may also provide some hints about political confederation. • In the realm of monetary policy the European Central Bank can learn from the Federal Reserve, if it is willing to. The Fed's ability to maintain its integrity while paying due deference to the democratically elected authorities with which it works provides a model more appropriate to a complex economy than does the haughty independence of the 198 199 Bundesbank. The single-minded Bundesbank ideology — price stability-uber-alles — cannot work in a Europe where recession threatens to increase already high unemployment; the Fed's pragmatic willingness to bring growth and employment into the balance can. The lessons for tax policy are less direct. What is thought of, as tax policy in the United States cannot exist in the European Union because the EU levies no taxes of its own? It is financed by contributions from the member states, which use their tax revenues to support the EU budget as well as their much larger national needs. Although political infighting over relative contributions is inevitable, EU members have also been squabbling over «harmonization» of national taxes — setting EU-wide rules for rates and regulations. The American experience suggests that this is quite unnecessary. The US Constitution provides few constraints on the ways in which the states may raise revenues: they can legally levy income taxes, corporate taxes, sales taxes and property taxes on their individual and corporate residents at any rates they want, and they do. State taxes vary, but the variations stay within limits because the citizens and the companies in the states compete with one another. The limits are imposed by economics, not legislation; they work and cause few quarrels. Similar natural limits are in fact becoming visible in Europe; the squabbles are unnecessary. With monetary policy in the hands of the European Central Bank, fiscal policy — budget deficits and surpluses a la Keynes — is the re maining tool with which the member states of European Economic and Monetary Union, or EMU, can affect their own growth and employment. But such national autonomy is illusory however; the rules of monetary union limit deficits, and economic reality reinforces the rules. Before EMU a state could finance a deficit by borrowing from its own centra! bank. The US model is again illuminating. The American states cannot run persistent deficits because they cannot borrow to finance those deficits, except at prohibitive interest rates. The federal government, however, can borrow from the Federal Reserve to finance immense deficits, has done so, and surely will again when economic downturn calls for fiscal stimulus. Except for one crucial difference, the government of EMU could similarly borrow from the central bank when dictated by Europe's needs — the difference, of course, being that there is no government of EMU. This leads to the possible lesson for political confederation. When recession suggests a continentwide need for stimulus, the pressure will be on the member states to create some sort of joint fiscal decision-making mechanism. Such a mechanism will not be called a confederation but it will be a major step in that direction. It will raise the question of whether the mechanism should be used for making other joint decisions. That in turn should reraise the question of the «democratic deficit»; in particular, should the one body elected by European individuals, the Parliament, be given more power over such decisions? The move will be on. At that point, an American might even have the temerity to suggest that Europeans read «The Federalist» papers. 2. What Happened to That «Global Architecture? When Brazil had devalued the real, the folks in Washington who claim responsibility for global monetary order were uncustomarily silent. One is tempted to say there was stunned silence, but that would imply that Brazil's move came as a surprise to the Treasury and the International Monetary Fund. Surely it didn't, but there was another very good reason to keep quiet. Brazil had been a test case for that new global «financial architecture» that President Bill Clinton proclaimed to the world last fall. The real's collapse made abundantly clear what some of us had assumed: The promise of a «new architecture» was just more Bill Clinton hot air. Of course, the hot air had a purpose, as do all of Mr. Clinton's skillfully crafted orations. He wasn't striving for «new architecture» as he claimed, but rather trying to save the old architecture, which was in danger of collapse. Specifically, he was trying to persuade the US Congress to cough up more money for the tottering IMF. The Brazil gambit was one of the arguments employed. If the IMF were not refinanced, it could not bait out Brazil and Brazil would go the way of the Asian tigers, with serious repercussions for the US and world economy. The string of disasters midwifed by the global money managers is reflective not only of misjudgments but of a fatal flaw in the existing «architecture.» Mr. Clinton had the words right in September, he just didn't know the score. Either new architecture or no architecture at all is needed. But a president who spends most of his working hours figuring out how to buy votes with public money is not likely to be very critical of a multilateral agency that does pretty much the same thing. It subsidizes two very influential constituencies, international bankers and the profligate politicians who preside over such places as Russia, Indonesia and Brazil. These bankers and politicians got the IMF's number a long time ago. They knew that institutions, like natural organisms, fight for self-preservation. The IMF keeps itself in business by winkling money out of 200 201 rich nations such as the US and handing it out to the poorer brethren, who usually are poor because of gross economic mismanagement. In this age in which income transfers are deeply imbedded in politics, the IMF doesn't lack for clients. What is absent is any convincing evidence that this has made the world a better place. Africa appears to be regressing, despite the billions poured into it by the IMF, US aid agencies and the World Bank. Asia, acting partly on IMF and US Treasury advice, took a big step backward, in terms of living standards, with the 1997 devaluations, as did Mexico in 1994. The Brazilian and Russian governments, living well beyond their means, were shielded from reality for far too long. The people in such places now must pay a price and their politicians will blame everyone but themselves, including Bill Clinton and Michel Camdessus. The IMF has proved that it is impossible to get good conduct from politicians by subsidizing their bad conduct. President Fernando Henrique Cardoso (Brazil) made himself very popular when he killed hyperinflation and gave his country a solid currency with the Real Plan. But he didn't follow through by reforming government itself. Had there been no international safety net supplied by an act of the US Congress, he might have seen fit to work harder. There should have been plenty of evidence around that monetary policy alone cannot compensate for governmental indiscipline. So it's back to the drawing board for the US Treasury and the IMF — will they really come up with some new «architecture» this time, something like going out of the global management business? Don't count on it. 3. A Dangerous Gun Show As we listen to the post-Littleton debate on gun control, it's impossible not to notice the enormous gap between the problem gun-control advocates describe and what their proposals can be expected to deliver. Childproof gun locks, requiring instant checks of buyers from licensed dealers at gun shows, holding adults liable for letting children get guns — none of these would have stopped the Littleton murderers, who planned their crime and assembled their arsenal for a year and violated several existing laws in the process. These proposed new laws would make only a marginal difference. The gun controllers' rhetoric, decrying the large number of guns in the United States and pointing out that gun deaths are much lower in countries that ban guns, makes much more sense as an argument for eliminating gun ownership altogether — which many gun controllers would like to do. This misfit between problem and solution is typical of reformers, 202 mostly liberal but some conservative. Gun-control advocates are not the only reformers whose solutions are tiny next to the problem they address and who ignore the practical difficulties of their unspoken agendas — while remaining uncurious about possible unanticipated consequences. Consider advocates of the latest campaign finance bill, who decry the importance of money in politics and then propose new laws that will surely be evaded as previous laws have been. The problem is basic: In a big-government democracy, people will want to influence elections, out of idealism as well as self-interest, and they will spend money to do so. And they will be acting on a claim of right: the First Amendment. To which some campaign finance reformers respond: Get rid of the First Amendment. In March 1997, 38 senators voted to amend the First Amendment to allow campaign spending limits. Or as House Minority Leader Dick Gephardt put it: « What we have here is two important values in direct conflict: freedom of speech and our desire for healthy campaigns in a healthy democracy. You can't have both.» The Framers disagreed. There is little evidence that gun-control advocates have given much thought to the practical difficulties of a serious gun ban. For the fact is that while the media lavish attention on marginal changes in federal gun-control laws, the great source of successful reforms in the 1990s is the states, which have been passing laws allowing law-abiding citizens, after a background check, to carry concealed weapons. Today 31 states, with 50 per cent of the nation's population, have such laws. None of the negative consequences predicted by gun controllers has come to pass. Instead, according to the most complete statistical study by University of Chicago economist John Lott, concealed-weapons laws have reduced crime. Citizens stop crimes 2 million times a year by brandishing guns, Lott writes, and criminals are deterred from attacking everybody because they know that a small number of intended victims will be armed. Lott's book, More Guns, Less Crime, presents a strong argument that more gun control would produce more crime. Even if sweeping gun control did not have that unintended consequence, it would be fiendishly difficult to enforce. There are some 240 million guns in America, most of them owned by people with a claim of right. And not a frivolous claim. The intellectually serious debate is over how far the Second Amendment right extends: Congress can surely ban the possession of nuclear weapons and surely cannot ban all handguns and rifles; the Second Amendment blocks the road somewhere in between. Earlier this month, former members of Congress Abner Mikva and Mickey Edwards, heads of a bipartisan committee, urged caution in proposing constitutional amendments, and they are surely right in urging avoidance of triviality. What do they have to say to the reformers who would repeal the heart of the First Amendment and ignore the Second? 203 4. Down with the Death Penalty The warrior and the executioner do similar jobs. Both kill the enemies of the state. But there the similarity ends. From time immemorial the warrior has been feted and honoured. The public executioner, by contrast, has always had to lurk in the shadows, working anonymously or for a pittance. There is no glory in what he does. That sense of discomfort and shame is why a growing number of countries have washed their hands off judicial execution. Today nearly all western democracies, as well as dozens of other countries, have abandoned capital punishment. Most of the countries, which still use it with much frequency, such as China or Iran, are authoritarian states without independent legal systems. The single most defiant — and most notable — exception to this trend is the United States. To the irritation of many of its allies, the American government regularly defends the death penalty in international forums, reflecting widespread support for capital punishment at home. Too often, death-penalty opponents have reacted to America's stubborn exception-alism on this issue with knee-jerk condemnation, or despair. Instead they should relish the chance to convert the world's most vigorous democracy to a saner policy. For they have a better case. Three basic arguments are made for the death penalty: that it deters others, saves innocent lives by ensuring that murderers can never kill again, and inflicts on them the punishment they deserve. The first two, utilitarian arguments, do not stand up to scrutiny, while the moral claim for retribution, although naturally more difficult to refute, can be answered. Despite voluminous academic studies of American executions and crime rates, there is no solid evidence that the death penalty is any more effective at deterring murder than long terms of imprisonment. This seems counter-intuitive. Surely death must deter someone. But the kinds of people who kill are rarely equipped, or in a proper emotional state, to make fine calculations about the consequences. Moreover, even for those who are, decades of imprisonment may be as great a deterrent as the remote prospect of execution. Although European countries have abolished the death penalty, their rates of violent crime have risen more slowly than crime overall. Indeed, their murder rates remain far below America's. It is indisputable that executing a murderer guarantees that he cannot kill again, and this argument once carried considerable weight in societies that could not afford to imprison offenders for long periods. But today most countries, and especially America, can afford this. Opinion polls 204 show that support for the death penalty among Americans drops sharply when life imprisonment without parole is the alternative. Executions are not needed to protect the public. Against the dubious benefits of capital punishment must be weighed its undoubted drawbacks. It is a dangerous power to give any government, and has been grossly abused by many to kill political opponents and other inconvenient people under the colour of law. Even America, with all its legal guarantees and complex system of appeals, has not been able to apply it fairly or consistently. Worst of all, it is irrevocable. Mistakes can never be rectified. America, like all countries, which use the death penalty, has executed innocents. This is too high a price to pay for an unnecessary punishment. Where does this leave retribution? Some crimes are so heinous that a societal cost-benefit analysis hardly appears relevant. Death alone seems sufficient. And yet, as many relatives of murder victims have discovered, real retribution can never be achieved. For example, the only way to repay fully those who have committed multiple murder, or killed in a ghastly way, would be to torture them physically in turn, or to strive to make them endure repeatedly the torments of death. Modern societies have rightly turned away from such practices as barbaric, tempering their demands for retribution in recognition that tit-for-tat vengeance is beyond the reach of human justice. That is where the death penalty, too, belongs. In 1976, after short lull, the court allowed executions to proceed again under redrafted state statutes. Since then it has frequently changed the rules, most recently restricting appeal avenues so as to shorten the time between conviction and execution, now averaging almost ten years. Even so, researchers still find inequities in how the death penalty is applied. Avoiding a death sentence depends a lot on having a good lawyer. Not surprisingly, rich, well-educated murderers rarely get a capital sentence. And the risk of executing the innocent remains very real. Since 1973, 78 people have been released from death row after evidence of their innocence emerged. The attempt to apply the death penalty fairly has exhausted even some of its staunchest supporters on the bench. After retiring from the Supreme Court, Lewis Powell, the author of a landmark 1987 decision upholding Georgia's death penalty even in the face of an undisputed statistical study showing racial bias in its application, said that he regretted the decision and backed abolition. America's stubborn retention of the death penalty is usually seen as the abolitionist movement's greatest defeat. And yet in the long term it may prove to be one of its greatest assets. If even America, with its com- 205 plex legal guarantees and elaborate court system, cannot apply the death penalty fairly or avoid condemning the innocent, then do executions have a place in any society which values justice? 5. The end of privacy The Surveillance Society «The right to be left alone.» For many this phrase, made famous by Louis Brandeis, an American Supreme Court justice, captures the essence of a notoriously slippery, but crucial concept. Drawing the boundaries of privacy has always been tricky. Most people have long accepted the need to provide some information about themselves in order to vote, work, shop, pursue a business, socialise or even borrow a library book. But exercising control over who knows what about you has also come to be seen as an essential feature of a civilised society. Totalitarian excesses have made «Big Brother» one of the 20th century's most frightening bogeymen. Some right of privacy, however qualified, has been a major difference between democracies and dictatorships. An explicit right to privacy is now enshrined in scores of national Constitutions as well as in international human-rights treaties. Without the «right to be left alone,» to shut out on occasion the prying eyes and importunities of both government and society, other political and civil liberties seem fragile. Today most people in rich societies assume that, provided they obey the law, they have a right to enjoy privacy whenever it suits them. They are wrong. Despite a raft of laws, treaties and constitutional provisions, privacy has been eroded for decades. This trend is now likely to accelerate sharply. The cause is the same as that which alarmed Brandeis when he first popularised his phrase in an article in 1890: Technological change, in his day it was the spread of photography and cheap printing that posed the most immediate threat to privacy. In our day it is the computer. The quantity of information that is now available to governments and companies about individuals would have horrified Brandeis. But the power to gather and disseminate data electronically is growing so fast that it raises an even more unsettling question: in 20 years' time, will there be any privacy left to protect? Most privacy debates concern media intrusion, which is also what bothered Brandeis. And yet the greatest threat to privacy today comes not from the media, whose antics affect few people, but from the mundane business of recording and collecting an ever-expanding number of every- 206 day transactions. Most people know that information is collected about them, but are not certain how much. Many are puzzled or annoyed by unsolicited junk mail coming through their letter boxes. And yet junk mail is just the visible tip of an information iceberg. The volume of personal data in both commercial and government databases has grown by leaps and bounds in recent years along with advances in computer technology. The United States, perhaps the most computerised society in the world, is leading the way, but other countries are not far behind. Advances in computing are having a twin effect. They are not only making it possible to collect information that once went largely unrecorded, but are also making it relatively easy to store, analyse and retrieve this information in ways which, until quite recently, were impossible. Just consider the amount of information already being collected as a matter of routine — any spending that involves a credit or bank debit card, most financial transactions, telephone calls, all dealings with national or local government. Supermarkets record every item being bought by customers who use discount cards. Mobile-phone companies are busy installing equipment that allows them to track the location of anyone who has a phone switched on. Electronic toll-booths and traffic-monitoring systems can record the movement of individual vehicles. Pioneered in Britain, closed-circuit TV cameras now scan increasingly large swathes of urban landscapes in other countries too. The trade in consumer information has hugely expanded in the past ten years. One single company, Acxiom Corporation in Conway, Arkansas, has a database combining public and consumer information that covers 95% of American households. Is there anyone left on the planet who does not know that their use of the Internet is being recorded by somebody, somewhere? Firms are as interested in their employees as in their customers. A 1997 survey by the American Management Association of 900 large companies found that nearly two-thirds admitted to some form of electronic surveillance of their own workers. Powerful new software makes it easy for bosses to monitor and record not only all telephone conversations, but every keystroke and e-mail message as well. Information is power, so it is hardly surprising that governments are as keen as companies to use data-process ing technology. They do this for many entirely legitimate reasons — tracking benefit claimants, delivering better health care, fighting crime, pursuing terrorists. But it inevitably means more government surveillance. A controversial law passed in 1994 to aid law enforcement requires telecoms firms operating in America to install equipment that allows the government to intercept and monitor all telephone and data communica- 207 tions, although disputes between the firms and the FBI have delayed its implementation. Intelligence agencies from America, Britain, Canada, Australia and New Zealand jointly monitor all international satellite-telecommunications traffic via a system called « Echelon» that can pick specific words or phrases from hundreds of thousands of messages. 6. «Call to Arms» New York — Two cheers for the Chief Justice who told the American Bar Association the other day that defense against crime was as vital to national security as «the budget of the Pentagon». In fact, it's probably of more immediate concern to most Americans. With no empty blasts about «getting tough», he said many other things that needed to be said — for example, that the great cost of lowering crime rates would be less «than the billions in dollars and thousands of blighted lives now hostage to crime». Nor is this an elitist view, since crime afflicts «the poor and minorities even more than the affluent». We need the undoubted deterrence of «swift arrest, prompt trial, certain penalty, and — at some point — finality of Judgment». And to mount a real attack on crime will demand «more money than we have ever before devoted to law enforcement», as well as much rethinking of what law enforcement should be. Still, on such a complex and emotional subject, the chief justice inevitably raised more questions than he provided answers. It's true that crime wiil not disappear «if we but abolish poverty». But it's more important that poverty and inequity and lack of economic opportunity breed crime, particularly when exacerbated by racial animosities, as in the United States. And where so much poverty exists in such proximity to so much affluence, the crime-breeding effect is likely to be greater. The chief justice's specific proposals, moreover, will not be easy to effect, even when their validity is accepted. Trial «within weeks of arrest» is highly desirable, but where are hard-pressed cities like Cleveland and New York to find the money for the needed judges, prosecutors, police officers? And in most such cities, by far the most cases are now disposed of by plea bargaining rather than by trial. He also proposed empowering judges to hold arrested persons without bail when « a combination of the particular crime and past record» makes it likely that the defendant will commit another crime while awaiting trial. His argument for limiting the scope of appellate review of criminal convictions to «genuine claims of miscarriage of justice, and not a quest 208 for error» also rests on judges' questionable ability to tell one from the other. Unlike many reformers, the speaker knows that his proposals, if carried out, would send many more people to prison. He also understands that to send them to the overcrowded, underfunded, inadequately staffed and policed prisons of the United States would negate his purpose; because more, and more frightening, criminals come out of these schools of crime and violence than go into them. That is why he proposes prison reforms. He wants prisons to provide mandatory educational and vocational programs designed to «cure» inmates who would be released with at least a basic education. And what good are the basic skills the Chief Justice wants to give inmates when they return to a society largely unwilling to hire them — particularly blacks or Hispanic people with a record of violence — and an economy with a declining need for low-skill labor? Deterrence of crime — particularly speedy trial and certain punishment — is vitally needed. How best to achieve it is a subject on which thoughtful and honorable persons disagree — and on which has usefully dramatized, not settled the debate. 7. Democracy is on the March If there has been a single, recurring theme in western foreign policy-speak since the cold war, it has been the promotion of liberal democracy — not just multy-party politics, but all the things that underpin it, such as the rule of the law, respect for property rights and the absence of police repression. Movement in this direction was assumed not just to be desirable but inevitable; the main challenge for policy makers was to hurry it along. People may concede that Francis Fukuyama, America's guru of geopolitical optimism, was going a bit too far when — after the collapse of undemocratic regimes in the Soviet Union and South Africa — he proclaimed the end of history. But a milder version of his thesis has passed into conventional wisdom. Wherever brutish regimes persist in torturing, expropriating or otherwise silencing their enemies, the West grits its teeth and says that « progress» towards the Promised Land of liberal democracy has been surprisingly slow. But what if no such «progress» can be assumed at all? Although the number of governments formally committed to democracy may be increasing, Freedom House, an American think-tank that measures political liberty by a sophisticated range of indicators, reckons that only 39% of the world's population now enjoys real political freedom — hardly a 209 massive leap forward from the 36% enjoying it in 1983. And even that slow rate of increase cannot necessarily be relied on. The think-tank notes «growing evidence that the wave of democratisation that began in the 1970s may have crested and... be receding.» Looking round the world, democracy seems well enough entrenched in Latin America, even if some of its concomitants, such as clean gover-ment and due process, are not. In Asia, it is too soon to tell whether the economic crisis will embolden or weaken those who argue that «Asian values» are an excuse for authoritarianism. But elsewhere there are good reasons to fear that western political values will retreat in the near term. Democratic institutions are hard to build, and easy to topple when not yet completed. Take the Middle East, where liberal democracy has never been in fashion. As they struggle to cope with demographic explosions and various forms of revolutionary dissent, many regimes will have to choose between being «liberal» — in other words, being secular and modernist about things like education and gender — and being democratic. The latter would entail yielding power to radicals or fundamentalists; they may, in turn give some or all of it back to the people, but it is hardly a sure thing in the short run. Algeria is only the most extreme example of a country where unbridled democracy would assuredly bring fundamentalists to power and is therefore regarded, both by its own government and many western ones, as a dispensable luxury. To stay in office, other «moderate» Arab governments — from North Africa to the West Bank will resort to increasingly ruthless methods: using secret services to infiltrate, divide and crush opposition movements that might otherwise be unstoppable. What about the former Soviet Union, where some of the most euphoric pro-democracy rhetoric was once heard? In the southern republics, rulers who held senior positions under communism have used the flimsiest sort of democratic window-dressing to ensure that they remain in office indefinitely. In Russia, the outward forms of multi-party politics and constitutional procedure have proved more robust; but the culture of democracy runs shallow. And what about Africa, where a spectacular revival of multi-party democracy seemed to reach its peak around 1994? Across a wide swathe of the continent, from Angola to Eritrea, issues of political procedure are overwhelmed by war. There are still two huge countries — Nigeria and Indonesia — where the near-term trend is towards more political freedom. But both countries face a profound challenge: is it possible for states with vast, diverse populations and acute economic difficulties to go on existing at all, let 210 alone existing democratically? To have a democratic future — which means learning to disagree amicably about particular issues — people in these countries need to develop a much stronger consensus about fundamental issues: state borders, the constitution, property rights and intangibles like national identity. And in Lagos and Jakarta, as well as Moscow and New Delhi, the rules and would-rules are faced with a fraying of consensus, not a consolidation. 8. When the snarling's over The post-cold-war solitary American superpower, say many Europeans, has to be held in check, lest it create an unacceptably Americanised world. The mighty dollar needs to be balanced by the gallant young euro. The spread of American popular culture must be slowed, even if it is popular outside America too. What many of these Europeans do not realise is that their grumblings are drowned by the growlings of frustrated Americans. The arthritic economy of continental Europe, say angry Americans, leaves it to them to bear most of the burden of helping recession-hit Asia and Latin America, by buying more imports from these regions and thereby making their own trade deficit even worse. The European Union, though richer than the United States, provides a tiny and diminishing proportion of the high-tech military equipment that NATO depends on if it is to be able to fight wars without an intolerable number of casualties. Now that Europe no longer has to worry about Hitler's Germany or a communist Russia, conclude these exasperated Americans, Europe can be left to its own devices. «Deep structural forces», says Stephen Walt in the current issue of the National Interest, are «beginning to pull Europe and America apart.» In fact, the sky is not quite that black. The expansion of NATO goes ahead. Nevertheless, the gloomsters could yet prove right. The Atlantic alliance may indeed collapse, unless both Europeans and Americans look forward rather than backward: unless they base their plans not on memories of the past 50 years but on a reasonable calculation of what the next 50 years will bring. If the United States were indeed going to remain the world's only great power as far ahead as the eye can see, people believe in the danger of monopoly and the need for competition would draw the necessary conclusion: Europe should provide a counterbalance to this overwhelming American power. But that is not in fact what the future really holds. If the 211 European part of NATO raises its eyes beyond its own borders, and sees what will probably happen out there in the next generation or so, it will understand why it still needs America and — even more important — why America increasingly needs Europe. The one-superpower world will not last. Within the next couple of decades a China with up to 1 'A billion people, a strongly growing economy and probably a still authoritarian government will almost certainly be trying to push its interests eastward into the Pacific and westward into Central Asia, whose oil and gas this energy-poor China will badly need. Sooner or later some strong and honest man will pull post-Yeltsin Russia together, and another contender for global influence will have reappeared on the scene (unless fear of China sends a horrified Russia running into NATO's arms). The Islamist superpower that nervous people predicted a few years ago will probably never come into being, but the Muslim world will certainly continue to produce localised explosions of ideological wrath and geopolitical envy. This is why the alliance of the democracies needs not only new members but also a new purpose. The alliance can no longer be just a protective American arm around Europe's shoulder; it also has to be a way for Europe and America to work together in other parts of the world. And those who hope to construct a politically united Europe should recognise that this must be done — if it can be done at all — in partnership with America, not to separate Europe from America. |