Left Flank

$400 for an Iowa caucus vote! I kid you not!

GWEN IFILL: As these candidates are making their closing arguments, Hillary Clinton with two minutes on the air tonight in Des Moines news stations, Barack Obama doing the same thing, Mike Huckabee flying off to Los Angeles to be on Jay Leno, how much money are they spending to do all of this?

JUDY WOODRUFF: Gwen, the numbers are mind-boggling. We've been putting together today -- I've been talking to all the campaigns, talking to people who watch this on the outside, and the best estimate I have is that the spending in Iowa -- Republicans and Democrats together -- over $100 million.

Now, most of that is Democratic money. I'm hearing the Democrats could spend from $70 million to $80 million. Now, that is compared to something like $12 million or $15 million they spent in 2004. So by magnitudes much, much larger.

If you do the math that I did on the back of an envelope, these candidates may be spending something like $400 per voter to get maybe a total of 200,000, 225,000 voters to the caucuses tomorrow night. It's really mind-blowing.

Could I just have that money in a gift certificate? How about campaign finance reform?

Garrett DeOrio and ken Worsley both eulogize 2007 and make predictions for 2008 in Seijigiri #38: A Review of Politics in Japan in 2007. I hope 2008 offers TPR a larger audience for what is a very stimulating medium on a topic few westerners understand, or get an opportunity to tackle given language and cultural obstacles.

What really caugh my attention, though, were three discussions in this panoramic hour-long chat: DPRK and the abduction issue; Sino-Japanese disagreements about gas exploration; and, comfort women.

On the DPRK issue, both DeOrio and Worsley knock the ham-fisted Abe administration for marginalizing Japan diplomatically within the Six-Party format by pushing the abduction issue too far, and nearly causing a breech with the US. I think Pyongyang has managed to divide all parties in the talks very effectively, so Japan's situation is not unique, just the circumstances are special. The key is Seoul's decision, under the new Lee administration, on which partner to choose. If not Pyongyang, ROK could follow with Beijing or the US, at which point Japan should fall in line. The key to a solution lies with numbers, not principle.

On the gas exploration issue, it's interesting that the two divided about China, and it's sort of an indication of how no one knows how to deal with Beijing. One one hand, it's argued that Japan should improve its diplomatic game by playing the middle with Australia between the US and China, to create a regional, multilateral framework for dealing with a panoply of issues. On the other hand, Beijing prefers to take its diplomacy bilaterally. I think an international settlement on the driling would be a pleasant surprise, but that not being likely, I think Japan might have to back down, unless there's a Chinese economic downturn.

Finally, on comfort women, the Abe administration made itself look silly by denying the claims of comfort women. I think historical arguments are both unfair to japanese voters born after WW2 (and the US and Canadian resolutions transparently laughable), and proxies for the sort of Sino-Japanese issues like gas exploration. It's like code that reveals where the power is flowing between Japan and whomever is using WW2 history to criticize it. With that said, how the Abe administration framed the comfort women issue about as incompetently as possible. It's the leading reason Japan doesn't deserve diplomatic rewards, like a UNSC seat, because it simply is not competent enough.

A lot more stuff in the discussion, so listen and comment...

Pendagon wins the contest for apt sentiments:

Our hearts are with those who struggle in Burma because they must, because you will never be wholly owned as long as you continue to struggle. It's easy for me to say that, though, isn't it? Which is why writing this is hard; my awe of those who put their lives on the line is humbling. May we all have the courage of our convictions as those who struggle against the military dictatorship do.

And, here, I was going to stop. Discussing what is admirable, though, should not detract from criticizing what, as it were, is making Sisyphus push that rock up that hill. There's a reason why Myanmar is a problem, and it's not because any one country has not gotten tough, or not because of a dearth of sanctions laws, or lack of publicity. It's because the world can never agree what needs to be done, and is more concerned for its own national concerns.

Ed Morrissey attacks sanctions, justifiably:

Sanctions alone have never collapsed a tyranny. Usually it just results in misery for the people who already suffer under the oppressive tyrants, a dynamic which the UN tried to avoid in Iraq by establishing the Oil-for-Food program. That turned into a massive corruption scandal that wound up enriching the tyrant that sanctions supposedly targeted. Even without the corruption, the sanctions lost popularity in just a couple of years, with some nations arguing that they killed 5,000 Iraqi children a month. The world has almost as little tenacity for sanctions as they do for military action.

The notion that worldwide condemnation would change the direction of the military junta seems mostly naive.

In another post, he attacks the shame weapon:

This process enables people to change action for rhetoric. We do that often enough already. In the case of Burma, even the testimony of diplomats attesting to dozens dead in the streets hasn't convinced China, Thailand, or India to cut off Burma and close down trade with them. Are we to believe that a strongly-worded letter from the State Department recapping what everyone already knows about the Burmese military dictatorship will exceed the power of those images?

Reliance on challenge documents just lets everyone off the hook. It seeks to embarrass governments that have no accountability to their people. Shame doesn't work in that setting, and for those who think that is the ultimate in diplomatic offensives, it keeps other solutions off the table. That's the harm.

Shame seeks to use group dynamics, to modify the behavior of a subgroup, in this case, the Burmese junta. Unfortunately, there are processes already at work, political and economic. Social psychological forces count for little at the global level. But, sanctions, are more a domestic palliative, for the governments giving them than for the junta receiving them, than a sharp tool, as Morrissey argues.

Again, Michael J.W. Sticking's raises the specter of genocide to advocate sanctions.

These are «techniques are modeled on the sanctions designed against North Korea,» sanctions which have been somewhat successful in terms of cutting off (Western) investment and other engagement with the Hermit Kingdom. But there is only so much the U.S. and Europe can do without Chinese and Indian support. As long as the totalitarians in Burma have China and India to prop up their regime, efforts to «speed their demise» may not be all that effective.

Still, it's something -- and something (Bosnia) is better than nothing (Rwanda). With military action not feasible, the crisis in Burma forces the U.S. and Europe to pursue other means, notably diplomacy (through the U.N.), tougher sanctions, pressure on China and India, and, presumably (hopefully), secret efforts in support of the protesters and their cause.

Sticking's wants to use shame to persuade India and China to pressure Myanmar, as well as implementing sanctions against the junta itself. Firstly, the Burmese people need closer integration with global markets, not less. Sanctions both inflict pain, but, as in the case of the DPRK, actually empower a sadistic state apparatus to mismanage its state and economy without the scrutiny of markets. Doing just something takes a backseat to doing something in a coordinated way. The UN and all major players have to agree, and that has not happened. And, it never will.

Tokyo's concern for journalist Nagai Kenji is an example. Any reaction short of parking a destroyer in the Indian Ocean is just perfunctory, and no other player would join Japan. So, instead of an honest reaction, Tokyo will lodge complaints. Netizens will raise awareness of Myanmar's plight with their invective, to a certain extent. There's not enough journalist or oil deposits in the world the Burmese junta could kill or spike, to alienate every country in the world with sufficient sadism and ineptitude for the world to park its armed forces around the Burmese borders.

Another pet peeve is the name game. Is it Myanmar, or Burma? I think it's just childish not to use Myanmar, to spite the junta. But, there is the issue of comprehension. So, I've chosen to use 'Myanmar' as the name of the country and 'Burmese' for the majority ethnic group living in Myanmar. The other alternative sounds like a butchered pronunciation of 'mayonnaise'.

As Yangon's streets seemingly stand poised for more riots, and the UN envoy is doing the rounds of both the junta and the opposition, it's good to recall, that his job is to manage conflict, not solve the crisis. There's no certainty, that with all the good will and negotiations, both sides could hammer out a compromise. And, it's equally unclear whether the opposition could rule Myanmar.

Of course, Burmese could just flee. That would incite instant global anger if thousands of immigrants hit foreign shores

Sisyphus might just be Burmese.

But, it's a team effort.

The Canadian dollar, or loonie, overtook the American dollar due to China, the American mortgage crisis, and Canadian good sense. But, it's always a mixed picture, and never just a national struggle only.

Firstly, Canada has China, and its rapacious thirst for raw materials, to thank for a loonie worth more than the greenback.

«When the [Canadian] dollar was trading just above 60 [American] cents, people thought there was something wrong,» says Darrell Bricker of Ipsos-Reid, a polling firm. «Now it seems that we are doing something right.»

That and good fortune: the industrialisation of China has boosted the world price of Canada's exports of oil, gas, minerals, metals and farm products. But the country has also done its housework: ten years of federal budget surpluses and a current-account surplus contrast with the twin deficits in the United States. In the end it was the «subprime» mortgage woes south of the border that elevated the loonie over the sickly greenback (or should that be the «Yankee lira»?).

Ouch!

But it's not all good news amid the nationalistic cheer:

As well, the province's exports of oil, gas and agricultural products now cost more.

At a business conference in Banff, Alberta Premier Ed Stelmach said every cent the Canadian dollar gains costs the provincial treasury more than $100 million in revenues a year, but pointed out some of it is offset by other revenue such as corporate taxes.

Some Americans are benefiting, too.

While the rise of the loonie - nicknamed after the image of the national bird, the loon, on the Canadian one-dollar coin - has made it less attractive for Americans to travel to Canada, it has been a boon to some Washington businesses. Issaquah-based Costco Wholesale Corp. has seen a steady increase in sales at its Bellingham warehouse near the Canadian border, and a Bellingham mall has reported substantial Canadian business. Seattle-based Kenmore Air is considering additional marketing toward our neighbors to the north for its seaplane service.

It just goes to show how much nationality and borders really count for.

Of the three most likely options - the protests gradually fading, a peaceful revolution to topple the regime and a harsh crackdown - so far the latter seems, sadly, the most likely.

The Economist's third option seems to be the verdict for Myanmar. As the Burma expert in the second Reuters video above puts it, it's a test of wills between the military and monks. The monks have, according to one report, now lost one and several others injured.

As Seth Mydans argues, Myanmar's junta has few options, as far as its «hunkered down, delusional, paranoid» mindset is concerned. But, what I think will really seal the fate of the monks, and Myanmar's population as a whole, is the disagreement displayed by Britain's Prime Minister Gordon Brown and the Japanese Foreign Ministry spokesman. Without consistently unified pressure on Beijing and Yangon, Myanmar's military is fully capable of suppressing a revolt, even if it spreads across the country, before the world loses interest in a few days. The LA Times article also points out, that this latest round of protests started with a petrol price hike. The junta's final response could very well be to rescind that hike, to divide its opposition.

I've argued before, and I think this is the problem in Myanmar most fundamentally, that «geography is destiny». There's just a conspicuous lack of hard-headedness on this issue, and Jon Swift (via Captain's Quarters) is probably right not to care. What can the US really do? Myanmar is situated between the Indian subcontinent and the troubled peninsula extending from China to Singapore. Myanmar is hardly a unified nation itself, full of restive minorities. India and Thailand on either isde of the troubled «statelet» are seemingly very quiet, possibly deferring to China. ASEAN's foreign policy sounds like Japan's Foreign Ministry. I don't foresee much help for the Burmese arriving.

Lastly (as I'm looking for a silver lining) David Lague has probably the most optimistic argument to make: China plays the field in Myanmar, is concerned about a violent upheaval, would like to be rid of the junta, and plans for a future where Myanmar is ruled by the opposition. But, that's a far cry from encouraging change. Therein lies the second problem, which I think, is most amenable here. The present is bad, but the future is unknown, and not necessarily bright for Myanmar.

Another indication of how skewed out of shape elections are in the US:

One day after Florida Democratic officials said they would defy the national party and press ahead with plans for a Jan.29 presidential primary, the consequences became a bit clearer.

One early casualty: the state party's Oct.26-28 convention in Orlando, which had been expected to draw the entire Democratic presidential field to Walt Disney World. Instead, the candidates will likely be no-shows.

«We'd love to have them,» Florida Democratic spokesman Mark Burbriski said. «But we know it doesn't look like that's going to happen.»

And thanks to the pledge they signed under pressure from Iowa, Nevada, New Hampshire and South Carolina -- the only states authorized to hold primaries or caucuses before Feb. 5 -- it appears that the Democratic presidential candidates will neither campaign nor run commercials in Florida, much to the chagrin of television stations.

«We figured this thing was going to be a shootout,» said Bill Bauman, general manager of WESH-Channel 2 in Orlando. «But when they're not campaigning in Florida, they're not spending money.»

Disney World and TV stations? Isn't this the Democratic party?

Caveat: This is not a book review; I have not read this book. I was interested in the opinions expressed in these two book reviews. But, for a complete account of the war, I recommend William Stueck's The Korean War and Rethinking the Korean War.

David Halberstam's last book, The Coldest Winter, about the Korean War, is receiving attention more for its author's career than the subject.

Two reviews, by Stephen Sestanovich and Erik Spanberg, caught my attention for what each said, not for the book each agreed was important, but if only for its author. Sestanovich concludes:

The Korean War that David Halberstam describes offers echo after echo of our contemporary predicament, or at least of one reading of it. His story is all about the hijacking of American policy, the fomenting of national hysteria, and the disaster that follows. But he would have written a truer?and, for that matter, a more useful?book if he had admitted how many people in high positions thought the policy was both necessary and right. For an understanding of the insidious workings of consensus, rather than of conspiracy, The Best and the Brightest would have been an excellent place to start.

Spanberg concludes:

No one won much of anything, but the ripples and lessons of political and military hubris echo to the present. «The Coldest Winter» is a fitting, warm tribute to the art of reporting, the most appropriate epitaph imaginable for David Halberstam.

What about the Koreas today? What about the Six-Party talks at least? Has the Iraq War and partisan politics in America warped perception so completely, that all of history is a lesson about the Bush administration? Both reviewers agree on Halberstam's main thesis: General MacArthur was the problem. But, there were over two years left to a sausage-grinder of a war, in which battles often occurred for no reason but diplomatic leverage. Spanberg punctuates what for me is one of the enduring legacies of the war.

Late in the book, Halberstam skips over large portions of the war's final two years, exhausted, no doubt, by the endless skirmishes over anonymous hills and villages for little to no gain on both sides.

That is a minor quibble in a book filled with insight and marvelous detail. Some of Halberstam's work in recent years smacked of a reporting treadmill, churned out too quickly. With «The Coldest Winter,» it is clear that Halberstam invested all of his considerable talents - and energy - without being rushed to meet a publishing deadline.

Within the tedious diplomatic exchanges at Panmumjon lies the record of the infuriating tactics Pyongyang has honed to a science in the last 50 years. The casualties and deaths compiled on those Korean hills while diplomats talked is a harbinger of decades of murderous economic development and political infighting in both Koreas, and, possibly, of a future war. America could not end the war then in victory, and America has not found a way to end a war still stuck in armistice. The denizens of the DPRK's gulags are a testament to that inhumanly brutal and frustrating legacy.