Welcome to European Tribune. It's gone a bit quiet around here these days, but it's still going.
TGA would qualify as a 'wet' Europhilic Tory in the UK, but not as a conservative in the US. He is also rather unthrilled with Blair for what he has referred to Blair playing the butler Jeeves to the bumbling Bush - except with less dignity and little influence. He called Bush's re-election a 'grisly result' in a column which compared black voters waiting in endless lines to the black voters who put an end to apartheid - only without the desired result.

Or read his piece on Bush's most recent trip to Europe:
To watch President George Bush in Brussels this week was to see how far Europe has to go if it wants to be taken seriously in the world. On the one side, you had Caesar. On the other, the prime minister of Luxembourg. And of Belgium. And the president of the European commission. And the European Union's high representative for foreign policy. And the commissioners for external relations and trade. And dozens of other heads of national governments, different European institutions and departments, all falling over each other to bask in the sunshine of that imperial presence they so often privately deplore.

Meanwhile, there was Caesar. Two hours before his keynote speech began, we filed through a shabby back entrance into the Concert Noble, a grand ballroom with crimson drapes, where the Belgian aristocracy still meet once a year for a bal de la noblesse. Gradually the front rows filled with ambassadors and minor dignitaries of the outer empire. A few American tribunes, prefects and great merchants were in evidence. A little later came the proconsuls, men of imperial gravitas, stately courtesy and crisp, regulation haircuts. All wore the Washingtonian toga: sober, dark suit and white shirt.

After a long wait, it was the time of the consuls and high imperial officials, including Condoleezza Rice. Buzz, buzz, went the crowd. Suddenly we found ourselves rising to our feet, led by the imperial household, only to greet Caesar's wife, Laura. A few minutes later, a voice from the loudspeakers announced: "The prime minister of Belgium ... and the president of the United States". We rose again, and there they were, the Belgian prime minister, with specs and floppy hair, loping in like some gangling, outsize schoolboy, and, flanked by his praetorian guard of secret servicemen, the US president, marching like an emperor: Tom and Jerry.

The Agony and Extase

I don't think his Hoover colleagues would approve.

by MarekNYC on Tue Dec 20th, 2005 at 11:16:03 AM EST
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