Just after President Barak Obama announced that he would nominate Sen. John Kerry of Massachusetts to be the U.S. Secretary of State, the occupant of the corresponding office in the E.U., Catherine Ashton, welcomed the prospect of working with Kerry.
"I am delighted by the nomination of Senator John Kerry to succeed Hillary Clinton as US Secretary of State. I have had the privilege of meeting Senator Kerry on a number of occasions. His considerable experience, not least as chair of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, makes him an ideal candidate for this crucial position. Pending Congressional confirmation, I look forward very much to working closely with him, and continuing the excellent relationship established with Secretary Clinton."
Whether Ashton knew it at the time or not, she would be working with an American politician. After all, Kerry had already run for the American presidency. To be sure, he was not taking up the foreign affairs post to build his resume. I believe he genuinely wanted the job. The problem is, is trying to please all the people all the time, a politician's patina (or deeper?), best in foreign affairs? In this essay, I focus not on this question, but, rather, on the patina itself in the case of John Kerry so the underlying problem behind the question of fit with foreign affairs can be more transparent to the wider public.
I, too, have had the privilege of meeting Senator Kerry. He struck me as a warm yet very ambitious man. At the time, I was on a deficit-reduction kick, so I asked him how his “big government” ideology was consistent with reducing the federal deficit. “I’m a fiscal conservative!” he insisted as he put his arm around my shoulder and smiled. “Oh, come on,” I countered in rather obvious disbelief. “I believe that government programs should be run efficiently,” he explained. “That’s good, but I don’t think that’s fiscal conservativism,” I said, “and it doesn’t necessarily make a dent in the deficit because you could simply add more programs that are efficiently run.” Perhaps Kerry as the U.S. Secretary of State might put his arm on Katherine Ashton’s shoulder and mollify her with something like, “Of course the E.U. is not a federal system,” or “the U.S. is firmly in support of the E.U. and ready to help.” Bill Clinton could even provide background music by playing his sax. Would the European succumb to the “I’m essentially whatever you want me to be”?
I would like to think that at least behind closed doors, politicians are capable of real talk rather than appearance and manipulation. What is the essential nature of a person who would make his or life that of politics? Do we ever really know them? Is there substance under the shells? Moreover, are the best people ruling? Does the democratic process proffer the best or merely the most pleasing appearance? As the E.U. struggles with the appearance of suffering from a democratic deficit, Europeans might want to reflect a bit on whether “technocrats” are really so bad. At least they don’t have quite the skill to conflate themselves into chameleons. Ashton might indeed have had Kerry’s number, yet no one would ever glimpse this from her glowing statement. Are she and Kerry two of a kind—both politicians managing appearances? How would the rest of us ever know? And yet we are the ones who are tasked with pulling the levers on election-day.
U.S. President Obama nominates U.S. Sen. John Kerry to be U.S. Secretary of State. Reuters
Whether Ashton knew it at the time or not, she would be working with an American politician. After all, Kerry had already run for the American presidency. To be sure, he was not taking up the foreign affairs post to build his resume. I believe he genuinely wanted the job. The problem is, is trying to please all the people all the time, a politician's patina (or deeper?), best in foreign affairs? In this essay, I focus not on this question, but, rather, on the patina itself in the case of John Kerry so the underlying problem behind the question of fit with foreign affairs can be more transparent to the wider public.
I, too, have had the privilege of meeting Senator Kerry. He struck me as a warm yet very ambitious man. At the time, I was on a deficit-reduction kick, so I asked him how his “big government” ideology was consistent with reducing the federal deficit. “I’m a fiscal conservative!” he insisted as he put his arm around my shoulder and smiled. “Oh, come on,” I countered in rather obvious disbelief. “I believe that government programs should be run efficiently,” he explained. “That’s good, but I don’t think that’s fiscal conservativism,” I said, “and it doesn’t necessarily make a dent in the deficit because you could simply add more programs that are efficiently run.” Perhaps Kerry as the U.S. Secretary of State might put his arm on Katherine Ashton’s shoulder and mollify her with something like, “Of course the E.U. is not a federal system,” or “the U.S. is firmly in support of the E.U. and ready to help.” Bill Clinton could even provide background music by playing his sax. Would the European succumb to the “I’m essentially whatever you want me to be”?
I would like to think that at least behind closed doors, politicians are capable of real talk rather than appearance and manipulation. What is the essential nature of a person who would make his or life that of politics? Do we ever really know them? Is there substance under the shells? Moreover, are the best people ruling? Does the democratic process proffer the best or merely the most pleasing appearance? As the E.U. struggles with the appearance of suffering from a democratic deficit, Europeans might want to reflect a bit on whether “technocrats” are really so bad. At least they don’t have quite the skill to conflate themselves into chameleons. Ashton might indeed have had Kerry’s number, yet no one would ever glimpse this from her glowing statement. Are she and Kerry two of a kind—both politicians managing appearances? How would the rest of us ever know? And yet we are the ones who are tasked with pulling the levers on election-day.
