CAN you imagine the scene? The leaders of arguably the two most powerful military nations in the world are seated at a table, swapping notes and comparing suggestions on some or other country, maybe Syria. When last I checked, the US spent something like 20% of GDP on defence. It used to be higher. Whatever the latest number is, it runs into trillions of dollars. Russia isn’t spending that much nowadays — oil revenues aren’t what they used to be, but still, they spent $81.5bn last year — enough, I think, to buy some serious fighter jets and missiles and stuff.
Not for the first time, the US and Russia disagree on the approach to be taken for the region in question. In the normal course, such a disagreement would result in the adjournment of the meeting, with both superpowers breaking away to consult with their military chiefs of staff, defence strategy committees (I wonder, do they ever have attack strategy committees, or is that just impolite?), and the like. Some compromise is reached and the public relations machines prepare statements. Détente persists. The entire conference retires to lunch amid alternatively swapped jokes on cowboys and vodka, and world peace remains intact.
This time, however, it’s different.
The two men across the table from one another are Donald Trump, the recently elected president of the US, and Vladimir Putin who, one way or another, has been in charge of Russia since even before Yeltsin finished his term, almost two decades ago. He was a member of the KGB. He holds a 6th Dan in judo and an 8th Dan in karate and he rides horses without a shirt on — Putin is a total boytjie and he is not to be messed with. Trump is an American businessman and hotel "magnate" (casinos, nogal) who was born in Queens, New York, and who, with or without substance, is a man not known to be withdrawn or humble of opinion. In fact, he’s outspoken, some say reckless.
Back in our war-room discussion, these two men decide not to follow protocol, not to submit to process, not to delegate to process — instead, they start to argue, with feeling — unbecoming as that may be in the diplomatic core. Knowing that he’ll never win an arm-wrestling match against Putin (the latter’s first suggestion on how to resolve their differences), Trump threatens a US counter-strike if Russia continues to do … whatever. Putin’s eyes light up — the first elected president of the US in the modern age who is prepared to start a real fight, what fun! Putin loves a good fight and he’s always dreamt that one day he’d be able to apply the now practically dormant might of his military machine against a worthy opponent.
The argument escalates to a shouting match and, in a flash of arrogant temper, Trump threatens to deploy his nuclear missiles. "I have the codes!" he brags.
"I am the president!" he bellows. "I’m not like the other sissy presidents that came before, I’ll use them!" he threatens. Nobody threatens Putin. Global thermonuclear war breaks out, the country that was in the middle of this discussion in the beginning emerges unscathed, the rest of the planet is scorched earth.
I know, this is a little far-fetched. It could even be classified as science-fiction, but I would have thought that it is no more beyond the boundaries of rational imagination than the possibility of Trump becoming president of the US.
Both Putin and Trump have the kinds of personalities that could win an election, hands-down, over a braai and a few beers, where men are gathered to compare war stories, lay claim to fights won and other conquests not all involving men. But, in the sober light of day, I’m not sure they’d get elected, particularly not Trump.
He needs to get 1,237 delegate votes to get the nomination. He has 316 (25%) already. Hillary Clinton needs 2,383 votes and she has 1,034 (43%) already. Trump has won 11 of the 15 states where the Republicans have voted already — his position in the race for the nomination can hardly be described as weak.
It will end up in a Hillary-Trump contest. Trump is simply out of order and Hillary isn’t trusted. How can this happen? Have Americans, disappointed with just about everything about themselves nowadays, lost their way?
Democracy is a system of election that recognises the right of all people to have an equal say in determining, by a majority of votes, who will rule over them, which government and which policies and laws will determine how they live.
A system of democracy works best (if it appoints the best people for the job) when the opinions and socio-economic circumstances of the people follow a normal distribution, that is to say when there is a high degree of consensus about what is right or wrong and which direction things should be moving in — a lot of opinion gathered in the middle, very little at the extremes.
In a society with vast differences of opinion, held by sufficiently vocal members of the population, the election results of a popular vote can become so skewed as to not be a valid representation of the will of the people. A polarised society cannot elect a cohesive government.
The search for popular, vote-securing enemies of the people is on. The deadlocks already experienced between the Republicans and Democrats could become even more paralysing as almost all candidates find flaws in both sides. America is not a happy place.
The US, as is the case with many other countries including ours, has a widely unequal distribution of wealth, compounded by significant differences of opinion as to where what little money there is should be spent and which trading partners should be favoured or fought.
In these times of uncertainty globally, and disappointment domestically, it is the protest vote that carries weight — anything anti-establishment gets populist applause. It is always easier to attack incumbent policy than to develop, let alone implement, a better alternative — but it’s easy to shout about it.
There ought to be checks and balances to ensure that those who shout the loudest (literally) don’t necessarily get into office, or shouldn’t get there.
There seem to be endless ways around limiting terms of power.
Democracy always runs the risk that, in a moment of hot-headed protest, the most noise wins the day, even if it’s an actor putting on a show. This could be the foundation of Trump’s victory. If it is, if he does prevail over the other Republicans and ultimately over the Democratic candidate, I think the US will rue the day.
Perhaps it is time for some levelheaded protester to stand up and protest against the protester, to avoid the appointment to power of a reckless narcissist, before there is no choice left, before the die is cast, before the temporary will of the people results in a permanent error of judgement.
• Barnes is the South African Post Office CEO
Vladimir Putin. Picture: AFP PHOTO/MAXIM SHEMETOV
CAN you imagine the scene? The leaders of arguably the two most powerful military nations in the world are seated at a table, swapping notes and comparing suggestions on some or other country, maybe Syria. When last I checked, the US spent something like 20% of GDP on defence. It used to be higher. Whatever the latest number is, it runs into trillions of dollars. Russia isn’t spending that much nowadays — oil revenues aren’t what they used to be, but still, they spent $81.5bn last year — enough, I think, to buy some serious fighter jets and missiles and stuff.
Not for the first time, the US and Russia disagree on the approach to be taken for the region in question. In the normal course, such a disagreement would result in the adjournment of the meeting, with both superpowers breaking away to consult with their military chiefs of staff, defence strategy committees (I wonder, do they ever have attack strategy committees, or is that just impolite?), and the like. Some compromise is reached and the public relations machines prepare statements. Détente persists. The entire conference retires to lunch amid alternatively swapped jokes on cowboys and vodka, and world peace remains intact.
This time, however, it’s different.
The two men across the table from one another are Donald Trump, the recently elected president of the US, and Vladimir Putin who, one way or another, has been in charge of Russia since even before Yeltsin finished his term, almost two decades ago. He was a member of the KGB. He holds a 6th Dan in judo and an 8th Dan in karate and he rides horses without a shirt on — Putin is a total boytjie and he is not to be messed with. Trump is an American businessman and hotel "magnate" (casinos, nogal) who was born in Queens, New York, and who, with or without substance, is a man not known to be withdrawn or humble of opinion. In fact, he’s outspoken, some say reckless.
Back in our war-room discussion, these two men decide not to follow protocol, not to submit to process, not to delegate to process — instead, they start to argue, with feeling — unbecoming as that may be in the diplomatic core. Knowing that he’ll never win an arm-wrestling match against Putin (the latter’s first suggestion on how to resolve their differences), Trump threatens a US counter-strike if Russia continues to do … whatever. Putin’s eyes light up — the first elected president of the US in the modern age who is prepared to start a real fight, what fun! Putin loves a good fight and he’s always dreamt that one day he’d be able to apply the now practically dormant might of his military machine against a worthy opponent.
The argument escalates to a shouting match and, in a flash of arrogant temper, Trump threatens to deploy his nuclear missiles. "I have the codes!" he brags.
"I am the president!" he bellows. "I’m not like the other sissy presidents that came before, I’ll use them!" he threatens. Nobody threatens Putin. Global thermonuclear war breaks out, the country that was in the middle of this discussion in the beginning emerges unscathed, the rest of the planet is scorched earth.
I know, this is a little far-fetched. It could even be classified as science-fiction, but I would have thought that it is no more beyond the boundaries of rational imagination than the possibility of Trump becoming president of the US.
Both Putin and Trump have the kinds of personalities that could win an election, hands-down, over a braai and a few beers, where men are gathered to compare war stories, lay claim to fights won and other conquests not all involving men. But, in the sober light of day, I’m not sure they’d get elected, particularly not Trump.
He needs to get 1,237 delegate votes to get the nomination. He has 316 (25%) already. Hillary Clinton needs 2,383 votes and she has 1,034 (43%) already. Trump has won 11 of the 15 states where the Republicans have voted already — his position in the race for the nomination can hardly be described as weak.
It will end up in a Hillary-Trump contest. Trump is simply out of order and Hillary isn’t trusted. How can this happen? Have Americans, disappointed with just about everything about themselves nowadays, lost their way?
Democracy is a system of election that recognises the right of all people to have an equal say in determining, by a majority of votes, who will rule over them, which government and which policies and laws will determine how they live.
A system of democracy works best (if it appoints the best people for the job) when the opinions and socio-economic circumstances of the people follow a normal distribution, that is to say when there is a high degree of consensus about what is right or wrong and which direction things should be moving in — a lot of opinion gathered in the middle, very little at the extremes.
In a society with vast differences of opinion, held by sufficiently vocal members of the population, the election results of a popular vote can become so skewed as to not be a valid representation of the will of the people. A polarised society cannot elect a cohesive government.
The search for popular, vote-securing enemies of the people is on. The deadlocks already experienced between the Republicans and Democrats could become even more paralysing as almost all candidates find flaws in both sides. America is not a happy place.
The US, as is the case with many other countries including ours, has a widely unequal distribution of wealth, compounded by significant differences of opinion as to where what little money there is should be spent and which trading partners should be favoured or fought.
In these times of uncertainty globally, and disappointment domestically, it is the protest vote that carries weight — anything anti-establishment gets populist applause. It is always easier to attack incumbent policy than to develop, let alone implement, a better alternative — but it’s easy to shout about it.
There ought to be checks and balances to ensure that those who shout the loudest (literally) don’t necessarily get into office, or shouldn’t get there.
There seem to be endless ways around limiting terms of power.
Democracy always runs the risk that, in a moment of hot-headed protest, the most noise wins the day, even if it’s an actor putting on a show. This could be the foundation of Trump’s victory. If it is, if he does prevail over the other Republicans and ultimately over the Democratic candidate, I think the US will rue the day.
Perhaps it is time for some levelheaded protester to stand up and protest against the protester, to avoid the appointment to power of a reckless narcissist, before there is no choice left, before the die is cast, before the temporary will of the people results in a permanent error of judgement.
• Barnes is the South African Post Office CEO
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