Comfort Zone

When Bush can't hunker in a bunker, he may learn international cooperation is nothing to fear.

by Juliet Fletcher

There it was again, Bush's Pet Goat face. It hovered at Tony Blair's right shoulder, during a press conference in Scotland. His mouth was set in a line, his eyes beady and blinking. "Twice in four years, and what has he learned?" I thought, my ear to the phone. The busy tone purred; my sister, who lives 20 minutes outside London, remained unreachable.

Bush's expression — alternating between bemusement and barely contained fear — was a reenactment of his reaction to 9/11, which was later lampooned.

And now, as London reeled from last week's transit attacks, Bush found himself stranded abroad. Far from his bunker, standing with the other G8 leaders to hear a weary Blair make a joint address, he must have felt his advisors were again ducking him, taking other calls, leaving him to sit tight. And, in a shudder of empathy, I realized that as much as I was trying to phone my family, he probably wished to get the hell out of there and get Dick on speed-dial.

This wasn't the gathering he'd expected: He'd banked on butting heads at the G8 summit in Scotland over concessions on climate change and aid to Africa. Allowing himself to appear cozy with other national leaders would have been counterproductive — and not the style of a a president who had never visited Europe before being elected. But as the morning soured, and with his Berlitz Guide to International Travel for Neo-Cons out of reach, Bush allowed common sense to sweep him toward international cooperation.

Coming amid the unremitting carnage of the day, his appearance onscreen with Blair and France's Jacques Chirac was like an implausible, but intriguing, dream. Zoom out further, and there was German Chancellor Gerhard Schroeder, Japanese Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi, and all the other G8 leaders. Bringing the group to 13 were the heads of South Africa, China, Brazil, Mexico and India. All gathered in one place, to discuss global problems just too large for one nation to solve alone.

A photo op may not signal a sea change, but it sends out certain vital messages that renew hope in America's participation in global cooperation.

The first is purely superficial: The U.S. populace rarely sees its president in groups with other statesmen. He will meet one-on-one with Canadian Prime Minister Paul Martin to discuss border control, with Vladimir Putin to press for strengthened Russian democracy — but only as single-issue conversations. Bringing all the faces together reminds us these issues are interconnected: that Russia's need for open borders is closely related to trade, or that U.S. immigration policy has become enmeshed with Homeland Security mandates in the wake of the USA PATRIOT Act.

Second, he allowed someone else a show of strength: It was Blair's moment to articulate leadership, so Bush stood back and gave him room. It was a mitigation of his pre-summit bluster, wherein he acted as if America were a majority stakeholder in world affairs, not an equal partner. Terrorism is a global affliction, not merely the president's favorite soapbox.

And finally, those who call Blair "Bliar" and hold him equally accountable with Bush for the death toll in Iraq may have been relieved to see no sign of the two leaders' double-act.

If all this can be communicated in a few short minutes, I think, perhaps the trip was worth the jet fuel.

But then I remember why they're there, with the awful clarity achieved after watching hours of BBC B-roll.

Eventually, my sister picks up. She tells me her boyfriend Craig, an engineer at a train depot near London, arrived at work that morning and was asked to inspect train carriages for further explosive devices. Hardly in his job description — but he got on and did it. Bush, likewise, may have been out of his comfort zone that day, but it showed him in a new and better light. He should cut the cord from his bunker buddies every so often.

Juliet Fletcher is City Paper's former food and listings editor, and a British subject. If you would like to respond to this Slant or submit one of your own (750 words), contact Duane Swierczynski, editor in chief, City Paper, 123 Chestnut St., third floor, Phila., PA 19106 or e-mail Duane Swierczynski.