In this issue
We cover issues profane and profound: the divertissements that Paris's Mayor Bertrand
Delanoe has been organising for his ratepayers and the deep
foreign policy confessions of one of Australia's leading strategic
thinkers, Hugh White. Also, the response of the NZ Government to its own Select Committee's
recommendations on closer political and intellectual engagement
with Australia.
The things rich cities can afford
Readers of the NZ
Herald were recently treated to a eulogistic article by Catherine Field on Paris' Mayor Bertrand Delanoe and the rash of
successes - most notably the Paris
Plage initiative - he has notched up so far as the capital's
first socialist mayor for yonks. There's no denying his near-perfect
public relations since arriving in office - although it probably
helped, taking over from an embattled Jean Tiberi whose refusal to stand down in the face of corruption charges
caused a complete melt-down on the centre-right.
But one has to question whether initiatives like "Paris
Plage" (the creation of temporary beaches on closed off riverside
roadways) or the so-far smooth attempts to demotorise the city through
more bus lanes and fewer through roads, owe their glamour and daring
to M Delanoe alone. In the first place, M Delanoe holds power
in coalition with the Greens whose much less telegenic team led
by Denis Baupin are in fact the authors of most of the transport initiatives.
In the second place, the city's rulers in the Hôtel de Ville
(and such is the grandeur of the place that the Mayor of Paris is
more like the prince of a renaissance city state than a boring old
council chairman) are able to trade on simply fabulous levels of
public investment over decades and even centuries.
If the case for reclaiming public space from motorists
is a popular one (and it certainly is with upton-on-line whose car
is only used during school holidays to escape the city), the fact
remains that Paris has unusual amounts of public space as a result
of some pretty draconian actions not by city administrators but
past rulers of the country. This is a capital city that takes
its quasi-imperial status very seriously.
The main axes didn't get there through cosy consultative
ratepayer meetings. The laying out of the great boulevards literally
bowled many a tenement out of the way. They were in large
part laid out in Napoléon III's time, partially as a means
of aggrandising the city and partially as a way of opening up the
streets to enable the quick deployment of troops to quell radicals
who had, since the revolution onwards, a tendency to throw up barricades
at the first sign of a government crisis. (They still do,
although it's trucks in motorway choke points these days).
Being the capital has meant a huge amount of money
being spent on flagship projects and refurbishments. Each
President seems to regard leaving the legacy of a grand, publicly
funded project as his duty. Throwing up the odd opera house,
triumphal arch or art gallery is taken for granted. And there
is also the fabulously maintained and interconnected public transport
infrastructure - all involving levels of public expenditure that
are pretty mind-blowing. You can close off acres of road space
- temporarily or even permanently if you have the supporting infrastructure
to pick up the pressure. Mr Delanoe is the mayor of a city
in which 56% of households do not own a car. And there
must be many more (like upton-on-line's) that own cars but do not
ever use them in town.
None of this is to denigrate M Delanoe's modus regendi. But it helps to be
rich and it helps to govern a capital city. It also helps
to be one of the most visited cities in the world (27 million tourists
last year) with all the wealth that generates. The reality,
immediately outside the orbital motorway or péripherique, is that public transport
withers, roads groan and suburbs sprawl just like they do, indistinguishably,
in London, Los Angeles and Auckland.
Pauanui-sur-Seine
"Paris Plage"- a temporary skein of trucked-in sand,
potted palm trees, instant grass and deck chairs - only worked because
it just happened to be looking onto some pretty attractive architecture
on the Ile de la Cité and backed by acres of delectable cafes,
boutiques and galleries. Try the same trick on a featureless
stretch of urban waterway in other towns and the results would be
much more muted. In short, it was tinsel on an ancient
and lovingly tended Christmas tree - a €1.5 million decoration
that was as novel as it was audacious. We all loved it as
did the Japanese tourists who clicked away for posterity throughout.
No-one will argue hard with the idea of imaginative
uses of public space that are too easily mortgaged unthinkingly
to cars, trucks, noise and pollution. But is this really the
path to sustainability? Upton-on-line's puritanical side questions
whether the money mightn't have been spent better on looking long
and hard at the way water is used in prodigious quantities to sluice
away the litter and dog excrement (not to mention car and bus residues)
that build continually in the streets. Open hydrants send rivers
of water down roadside gutters for hours on end every morning as
the city, in imitation of mediaeval waste disposal systems, treats
its roading network as one huge sluice. Making the place clean
and romantic for the 27 million visitors (not to mention the residents)
comes at a price.
Time alone will tell whether the greening of the Hôtel
de Ville with its fabulous chandeliered state rooms where Parisian
mayors greet heads of state will translate into less
entertainment-friendly moves. The next extravaganza after
the riverside ‘beaches' was the 'Nuit Blanche' (literally, sleepless night)
in which a series of monuments and buildings - some well known,
some utilitarian - were made the focus of nocturnal spectacles
and revels far into an autumn Saturday night. The closest
to upton-on-line was a large public swimming pool bathed in crimson
red light in which revellers were invited to sport. It had
all the same hallmarks of the beach episode involving the imaginative,
witty and novel use of public space.
But it wasn't quite such a success. Many key sites couldn't
cope with the crowds. And in an ugly turn, the Mayor (an unabashed
homosexual) was stabbed and seriously wounded by a nasty psychopath.
The liberal, relaxed, care-free tone of the event was seriously
scarred. And brought more than a few people face to face with
the fact that underneath the almost make-believe romanticism of
Paris lies a big, complex urban mass with all the problems and tensions
that are the day-to-day stuff of urban living anywhere in Europe.
And as the economy stalls, even some of the make believe may fade.
The Mayor may yet have sleepless nights of a different kind ahead
of him.
Sense from across the Tasman
Foreign policy debate in New Zealand is not exactly a rich and
varied tapestry. It's more like a threadbare prayer mat on
which the political left and right chant offerings to the respective
deities of the United Nations and the United States. But there
is one little deconsecrated zone in which policy refugees and other
agnostics are allowed to gather - the New Zealand Institute of International Affairs.
And from time to time the Institute persuades foreigners (i.e. people
whose policy views have not been shaped in the hothouse of virtue
that serves as New Zealand's policy incubator) to offer some cool
insights to fevered minds.
One such commentator is Hugh White, Director of the Australian
Strategic Policy Institute in Canberra. White was for
many years an insider in the Canberra defence community. He
has now stepped out into the academic community and is able to provide
publicly the sort of lucid analysis previously reserved for the
private consumption of Australian politicians. The lecture
he gave on October 8th at Victoria University entitled
New Zealand & Australia:
Foreign Policy and Armed Conflict, shows just how lucky they
were.
Being honest about the differences
White's lecture provided an opportunity for him to expand on a
speech given at last year's Otago foreign policy school in which
he set out the view that Australia and New Zealand have deep-seated
differences in their strategic perceptions that, following the collapse
of ANZUS, could not be papered over. In developing this line,
White likened New Zealand's different appreciation of where it stands
in the world to the situation Europeans find themselves in vis à
vis the United States. In doing so, he rejected the recently
fashionable Robert Kagan view that trans-Atlantic differences
are rooted in the realities of power and weakness. Rather,
he locates them in "the physical and political geography of
Europe's strategic situation". In short, after two world
wars and a cold war, Europeans have worked out a modus vivendi that makes armed conflict
in Europe very low (the Balkans notwithstanding). Furthermore,
he notes, outside of Europe the Europeans have effectively no vital
interests that they have to defend on their own. (The scale
of US forces and coincidence of US and EU interests sees to that).
The result is that European countries are in a long-term decline
as military powers as armed forces become less relevant to their
immediate environment. Here is White's conclusion on Europe:
My own view is
that Europe is going to look like the Japan of this century.
That is the way Japan has looked for the last half a century [and
the way] Europe will look for the next half century. Very
big, very economically powerful … quite politically cohesive
but strategically hardly registering on the global scale at all.
And I don't think that is a bad outcome. It is certainly not a bad
outcome for the United States. It's going to be a bit like
Japan was; a big more or less neutral, but friendly, neutral in
the military sense, but strategically friendly otherwise. Which
is quite a handy outcome from the United States point of view.
But it is worth making the point that the United States lives in
a very different world. It has a global view and a global
role that Europe lacks. It has a different geography.
America inhabits the globe, Europe inhabits really just Europe and
that globe includes two regions in particular, the Middle East and
Asia in which the optimistic judgments I gave about the role of
armed force in international affairs in Europe simply do not apply.
In both of those regions, different though they are, the prospect
of armed conflict between nation states remains a very real prospect
and a very significant element in the way countries relate to one
another.
The parallel White draws for trans-Tasman relations is an interesting
one. Just as Europeans tend to react to US power along the
lines Kagan implies, he senses in much New Zealand commentary, a
tendency to judge Australia's preoccupation with national security
as being the product of its ‘middle power' status. It's
a reflex he rejects. Differences have more to do with geography
than size.
He then devoted a very considerable amount of his lecture
to the proposition that September 11th hasn't changed
the way the world works nearly as much as some would maintain and
that, contrary to the headlines, the Americans and the Europeans
aren't nearly so far apart as some believe. In short, his
thesis is that there remain, even for America, very real limits
to what can be achieved through military force and that is why,
notwithstanding the rhetoric, the US has not abandoned its attempts
to find common ground with the Europeans in the UN. This,
he says in passing