What Drama

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I've been travelin', far and wide. And I've been thinkin', long and hard.

Now I'm back from these quite arduous yet educational and productive ventures and find in the meantime the world seems to have conspired to want to go to hell in a hand basket, as the saying goes.

“We don’t know where we’re going, but we’re making great headway.” Yogi Berra

So please consider this a catch-up post, and I promise to reward you for your patience by eventually arriving in the present and writing about something you haven't just already heard but in the meantime forgotten, with everything that's going on.

I went to visit the Antipodes. No, that’s not our charming neighbour family from Greece who live down the street, soon to be deported from Little England, in all likelihood along with your faithful blogger. Brefugees all of us. I actually went to call on the good folks in New Zealand. 

Having safely returned a while ago already, I wish to report that, contrary to what some people may still think or tell you, the Antipodes do not walk upside down. However, there are other unintended consequences of living in the Southern hemisphere: the water in the bathroom sink whirls around counter-clockwise, the sun moves from East to West through the North - where it stands at High Noon / and winter solstice is in June. Rhyme fully intended.

Which is kind of cool, because they actually get to celebrate Christmas twice. In December, they have barbecues on the beach; at mid-year, the restaurants are decorated with fake fir trees covered in equally fake snow, and over the loudspeakers they play ”Silent Night”, the real thing, for atmosphere.

  

Coming back to my last, no doubt by now long forgotten blog post, and just to keep you from googling: no, even Down Under Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland – some time soon maybe only of England and Wales – and her loyal subjects do not get to celebrate her birthday four times each year.

Speaking of unintended consequences – I do feel strongly about the fact that a whole generation or two of young British citizens have been sold down a River of No Return (hold the term) by Brexit and all the old people above 65 who voted for "Leave", the Baby Boomers who have done rather well for themselves during their country's membership in the European Union, thank you very much. But then, who needs free access to 27 other nations, their culture, their universities, their economies, their jobs, and their people anyway when things are so hunky dory at home, right? 

Buyer’s remorse, in case some people are feeling it by now, in this instance cannot be remedied at the next election in five years’ time. This hangover is here to stay I'm afraid. What drama.

Which neatly brings me to the football of course, the hangover that is. The Euro 2016 tournament was largely devoid of drama and must have been one of the most disappointing such events in a long time. Whoever thought inflating it to 24 teams would do anything for its quality clearly wasn't thinking, their vision impeded by the proverbial dollar signs in their eyes. The occasional drama was in penalty shoot-outs, with Germany of course right there in the thick of it again - for as long as it lasted.

The final itself was dramatic only in the pictures of the injured Cristiano Ronaldo manhandling his coach on the touch line to prevent him from giving the players on the field any instructions that interfered with CR7's own calls. Is this a way to treat an elderly gentleman? That a side as destructive, unimaginative, and plain mediocre as Portugal, devoid of their one player of flair, won in the end was a fitting outcome to the proceedings.

But as far as England's team is concerned, I just can't resist pointing out it's all coming together now - there is a big picture that I invite you to view with me. 

Finally freed from the fiendish foreign factions of France and the f***ing rest of Europe - now that's what I call an alliteration - I have it from a reliable source in Whitehall that the new government will shortly start negotiations with Iceland for free movement of people with the goal [sic] of an “ever closer union” culminating in a “North-Atlantic Super State”. There has got to be a way to tap into those 200-odd football players! 

Of course, permanent immigration is not on the cards. The plan is just to include a stand-alone category for "unaccompanied young men in shorts ably kicking a round ball" in the famous Points System everybody is pinning so much hope on now and fly them in and out as needed for training sessions and games. 

A diplomatic challenge truly worthy of Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson, helped by the fact that I think politicians from Iceland are actually on the rather short list of people he has not insulted at one point or another in the past. What drama.

And while we are scouting the North Atlantic – who else is out there, waiting to be brought into this new English Empire?

No, forget it, Greenland is a Danish territory, and Denmark is in the European Union, so that’s out. But maybe approach the Faroe Islands? After all, they defeated Greece - arguably the cradle of all that European nonsense, and then some - not just once, no: twice. Only after which the Greek national Coach, an Italian gentleman called Claudio Ranieri became available to take over not-so-mighty Leicester City and turn it into an English-Premier-League beating football Champion Team. With the help of King Richard III and King Power, granted.

Bottom line: There is hope yet. And anyhow, what could possibly go wrong with all that Icelandic and Faroe talent under the capable leadership of "Big Sam" Allardyce, hugely experienced in international football as he is? Sam Who? That's right, constant foreign readers - well may you ask the question.

I think the real problem is that no-one qualified actually wants "the England job" anymore these days, not even Heimir Hallgrimsson, the part-time dentist working as national coach in Reykjavik.

It's been fifty years last weekend that England won the World Cup as host nation of the 1966 tournament. Never mind that "The Third Goal", aka "The Wembley Goal" sprang from the imagination of "The Russian Linesman", Tofiq Bahramov who actually hailed from Baku in the proud nation of Azerbaijan which at the time was part of the Soviet Union. 


If you don't believe me - and I am old enough to have watched the game live on black-and-white TV, what you call an eye witness - please refer to studies conducted since both at Imperial College London and the University of Oxford that came to the conclusion the ball was at least six centimetres away from having crossed the line in its full circumference. There!

And yes, England did score a fourth goal at the very end of extra time, but by then the playing field had already been invaded by many of the fans in attendance on the day - another clear irregularity. To quote the live BBC commentator, Kenneth Wolstenholme: 

"And here comes Hurst. He's got... some people are on the pitch, they think it's all over. It is now! It's four!" What drama.

But be it as it may, and I did not develop a childhood trauma from that admittedly painful experience, to me two things from the ample media coverage commemorating the day stand out. 

First, the image of Germany's team captain, Uwe Seeler being accompanied off the pitch by a policeman after the game, looking as dejected as anyone might after those 120 minutes. In Germany, this picture has been voted Photo of the Century. 

What drama.



The slightly older gentleman to the right energetically rolling up the sleeves of his track suit is the German Coach Helmut Schoen by the way. I wonder what he was thinking at that moment - "Like it or not, we have to face the music now"? 

What drama.

But then, there's the other side of the story, as experienced and many times relived and retold by the winners on the day - the eleven players representing England: Gordon Banks, George Cohen, Ray Wilson, Nobby Stiles, Jack Charlton, Bobby Moore (team captain, shown here being presented with the trophy by Her Majesty), Roger Hunt, Alan Ball, Bobby Charlton, Geoff Hurst, Martin Peters. 

I can still repeat them by heart, timeless heroes not just of English football fans that they were. 

This feat of memory half a century later is made easier by the fact that in those days there were no substitutions. If you got hurt, you were simply redeployed to limping heroically up and down the left wing to make up the numbers. And the other players in the squad thus condemned to lingering on the bench didn't even get a winner's medal. Those were truly terribly tough times indeed, alliteration or not. 

But their unique, historic triumph of 30 July 1966 sadly did not bring these eleven young men a lot of happiness as they soldiered on through their lives - in fact, some observers have spoken of a curse resting on their shoulders. Theirs is a story of tragic premature deaths, debilitating illnesses, and serious financial problems - only nine survive; one has lost his eyes sight, four suffer from Alzheimer; and only three of them have not been forced at one point or another to sell their medals. 

Geoff Hurst, hero on the day and still the only player ever to have scored three goals in a World Cup Final (well, only two really), recently failed in his attempt to auction off the shirt he wore during the game as no bidder was willing to cough up the admittedly steep asking price of £ 500,000.

By contrast, Uwe Seeler, aged 79, enjoys reasonably good health and modest wealth.

So, what will the superstitious make of all this? That humans who achieve greatness will have to pay dearly for their triumphs further down the road as the gods residing on Mount Olympos are a jealous, vengeful, and vindictive lot who enjoy punishing mortals' hubris by cutting them down to size? Assuming they bought into this ancient Greek concept of tragedy, with hindsight, do you think any of these eleven footballers had ever been tempted to undo their feat and to return - not sell - their winners' medals in order to avoid subsequent retribution? I doubt it. And good for them!

But even if they had, can we swim against the currents of your lives? 

Anyone seen River of No Return? It’s a wonderful Western movie, released in 1954, directed by Otto Preminger, and starring Robert Mitchum and none less than Marilyn Monroe.

The marketing tag line ran: “MARILYN MONROE... Sultry, flaming, exciting as never before – on a desperate river journey... experiencing the violence and madness of desperate men!” 

Wow. What drama. 

And Ms Monroe sings in it as well.

She was actually a very good singer, as evidenced in many other of her films. For example:

“Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friends”, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953)

“That Old Black Magic”, Bus Stop (1956)

“I Wanna Be Loved By You”, Some Like It Hot (1959)

Marilyn Monroe also was anything but The Dumb Blonde she sometimes had to play. My Top Three quotes attributed to her, in ascending order:

“I sleep in the nude but I pull the sheets up.”

“The happiest time of my life is now.”

“Fear is stupid. So are regrets.”

By the way, she never even won an Oscar. But then, nor did Charles Chaplin or Greta Garbo. Whereas our friend Leonardo DiCaprio, thanks to The Revenant (2015) now finally has, and we can all move on. 

That said, I thought Quentin Tarantino’s The Hateful Eight (2015) was more than a match. It follows impressively the classical three unities for drama: unity of action, unity of time, and unity of place. And in this, it is very reminiscent not just of Ancient Greek theatre, but also of the good old Agatha Christie murder mysteries.

I once went to see The Mousetrap in London, which opened in the West End in 1952, making it the longest-ever non-stop playing production in theatre history if I’m not mistaken. At the very end, after the final curtain call, the lead actor stepped forward and addressed the audience directly: “Now that we’re partners in crime, please don’t tell your friends whodunit.” Charming. And its continued success proves that, contrary to general wisdom, people are capable of keeping a secret… 

I know nothing. My lips are sealed. Discretion is my middle name.

But be warned: In The Hateful Eight, There Will Be Blood. Another brilliant film for which Daniel Day-Lewis in 2008 won one of his three Oscars for Best Performance by an Actor in a Leading Role. The other two? My Left Foot (1990) and of course Lincoln (2013).

Having covered Mr Day-Lewis and his all-time award-winning film history record here before, let’s not get distracted and return to Ms Monroe instead.

Marilyn Monroe was born Norma Jeane Mortenson in 1926. She never knew her father's identity. As a consequence of her mother's mental health issues, she grew up in foster families. She was sexually abused as a child. She became one of the biggest film stars and was revered as the most erotic woman on the planet for about ten years. She was married three times. She fought with addiction, depression, and anxiety. Her last completed film was the drama, The Misfits (1961). Then, she tragically died at the age of only 36 from an overdose of barbiturates at her home in Los Angeles on 5 August 1962. Although the death was ruled a probable suicide, several conspiracy theories have been proposed over the years and decades since. This past 1 June, she would have been 90. Unimaginable really.

People will always remember Marilyn Monroe as the timeless, sexy yet frail movie goddess that she was and one of the true icons of American popular culture, immortalised by her films and Andy Warhol.

And all the more so because her life was not just marked by stardom but also by suffering, not least at the hands of the men she got involved with, ranging from a first husband she married at sixteen; to spouses Numbers Two and Three, baseball legend Joe DiMaggio (I am among those that believe she should have stayed with him, and all would have been good) and playwright Arthur Miller (sadly, while a couple, they went by "The Mind and The Body"); and to clandestine relationships with some other more or less nice guys, including a President and his brother, the Attorney General.

One of her last public appearances was at New York's Madison Square Garden where on 19 May 1962, ten days before the actual date, President John F. Kennedy's 45th birthday celebration was held. The event was a fundraising gala for the Democratic Party, and more than 15,000 people attended, including numerous celebrities. 

Ms Monroe's dress on the night was made of a sheer, flesh-coloured marquisette fabric, with 2,500 shimmering rhinestones sewn into it. It was so tight-fitting she had difficulties putting it on, and she wore nothing underneath. It was designed by Jean Louis and originally cost US$ 12,000; it sold at an auction in 1999 for US$ 1.26 million. But then, it had only been worn once.

English-born actor Peter Lawford, brother-in-law to JFK, was at the microphones to introduce the actress. In his short remarks, he played on her reputation for not being punctual by gesturing towards the spotlit empty stage a couple of times, with her not appearing. When she finally did step out, he simply said "the late Marilyn Monroe". 

Less than three months on, she was dead. And John F. Kennedy himself was to have only one more birthday - 11.22.63.

She peeled off her white ermine fur coat, revealing the dress and her figure. 

What drama.

Monroe sang the traditional "Happy Birthday to You" lyrics in a sensuous, sexy, seductive voice, intimating intimacy, with "Mr President" inserted for Kennedy's name. The First Lady was not in attendance on the night.

Here is the link - don't miss it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=piVKYMb4nzM

I told you she could sing. And this is how she will always be remembered. Just like Geoff Hurst wearing that red England shirt on 30 July 1966 he was desperate enough to want to sell so many years later. It had also been worn only once.

Speaking of Ladies, First and others, and their talents, musical and others - how about Michelle Obama: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ln3wAdRAim4 

Which finally brings me, more or less elegantly, to the subject matter I have avoided going into for a long time - the U.S. Presidential election campaign. Because with the nominations officially done now, that's what it has become, and we will have almost hundred days of it still to look forward to. Or not.

Somebody far more insightful than I has recently stated we live in the age of "Post-Truth Politics". In other words, when it comes to exchanging arguments to sway the electorate, literally anything goes. Let's just throw it out, the more outrageous the better, and if it "sticks", we'll milk it. If not, there is surely another blatant non-truth we can come up with tomorrow.

If this makes me sound bitter - well, I am. In the words of my old hero, American Vice President Joe Biden, it's all "Malarkey"! According to the Thesaurus, it means "silliness", but then also, in alphabetical order, "balderdash, drivel, foolishness, hogwash, nonsense". And I would claim Biden was being rather generous and civil in not just calling it plain old "Bullshit".

Declaration of interest: While I fully understand and respect Joe Biden's decision not to run for the White House himself, having witnessed the recent nomination conventions in Cleveland and Philadelphia, boy do I wish he could have been swayed.

And of course, he was referring to the output from the candidate of the Republicans while putting on a brave face and trying hard to "sell" his own Party's.

So here we finally are now, stuck with the less-than-inspiring spectacle of Hillary "Worst Judgment" Clinton (69, in the blue corner) slugging it out with Donald "Not A Clue" Trump (70, in the red corner). And worse still, with the depressing prospect of then having to endure one of them in the White House for at least four full years from January 2017.

Unless of course, which nobody will wish on them or their nation or, for that matter, the rest of the world, they have to leave office prematurely and are replaced by their Vice President - current "Running Mates" Senator Tim Kaine (Democrat, Virginia) or Governor Mike Pence (Republican, Indiana). 

What little we, or indeed the American nation now asked to vote them into office, that proverbial "one heartbeat away" from power, know about them is quickly told.

In the red, Republican corner, Mike Pence (57): Governor of Indiana since 2013, before that Member of the House of Representatives from 2001, so a very experienced politician. A supporter of the Tea Party Movement and initially an advocate for Ted Cruz in the Primaries, he is considered by some as the most conservative Vice-Presidential candidate in the last 40 years. As such, probably the safest possible bet for Trump who has no governing experience whatsoever, is rejected by large sections of his own party, and is hated by too many all round.

In the blue, Democratic corner, Tim Kaine (58): United States Senator for Virginia since 2013, before that Governor of Virginia and Mayor of Richmond. He is only one of twenty people in American history to have governing experience at all three levels of government. A decent man by all accounts, he was one of three candidates for running with Barack Obama in 2008 (and I predictably maintain that choosing Joe Biden was the best decision). On NBC's Meet the Press program, Kaine characterised himself like this: "I am boring. But boring is the fastest-growing demographic in this country." For Clinton, he is meant to "deliver Virginia and the Hispanic vote".

Actually, maybe either of them may not be such a bad alternative scenario... Which says it all really.

In one of his inspirational speeches during the Second World War, Winston Churchill on 27 April 1941 closed an address he gave over the BBC with a reference to the incumbent President of the United States and by quoting the final line of the poem, "Say Not the Struggle Naught Availeth" by English author Arthur Hugh Clough (1819 - 1861):

"But westward, look / The land is bright!"

The man residing in the White House then was Franklin Delano Roosevelt.

How the times have changed.

It never ceases to baffle me how the mighty United States of America, with all their resources, among their 320-odd million population could not come up with two better candidates. And it's not just me. Check this out: 

http://giphy.com/gifs/trump-donald-hillary-26BRxjQXtmOyU8rcI

This is what the current British Prime Minister, ruling over a nation that has of its own volition pulled down the shutters on their immediate eastward-facing vista, and her merry band of Brexit Cabinet members will see across the Big Pond in future while continuing to phantasise about the "special relationship". But then, in compensation they have now set their sights much farther east than Europe, defining The People's Republic of China - that shining beacon of Liberty, Civil Rights, Freedom of the Press, and the Rule of Law - as "our new best partner". 

"Brussels" by comparison - good riddance!

What drama.

For the first time in American Presidential elections history I think, the key to winning for both of the candidates is less to motivate the undecided or supporters of the other party to vote for them, but to convince a sufficient number of their own supposed followers that they are not as unelectable as the other side makes them out to be. 

What a choice. 

But also, what drama.

Which may be even exceeded if the unthinkable, but not altogether implausible were to happen on either or even both sides of the North Atlantic - disregarding for one moment the soon-to-be leveraged football prowess of Iceland and the Faroe Islands by "Big Sam" Allardyce of course. 

Imagine a double whammy of the Republican Party grandees still coming up with a plot to convince "The Donald" that he has taken this far enough now and should somehow bow out, graciously (less likely) or not; and of whatever conspiratorial, cross-party coalition of the wily, willing, and well-meaning in Westminster finding a way to put brave breaks on Brexit, preventing it from actually happening after all.

Unimaginable? A mere figment of my feverish fantasy? Not really I don't think... You? 

But then, I had money on Germany winning the Euro 2016. 

For now, having enjoyed the alliterations game yet again, and thank you for bearing with me until the hopefully entertaining end, I am looking ahead, not necessarily forward to two weeks or so of even more drama about to unfold in Rio de Janeiro.

I hope it will be in the athletic department and not as the Games deteriorate into the "Pharmalympics" Robert Shrimsley has humorously conjured up in the Financial Times. I love his satirical weekly columns!

In celebration of the Ancient Greeks who, after all, first came up with the idea all the way back in the 8th century BC - do visit Olympia on the Peloponnese - and in friendship and solidarity with our lovely Greek neighbours, the Antipodes, as I lounge in my armchair, feet up, I will make a point of regaling myself with Greek salad, Moussaka, and Retsina. Or rather, Mythos beer - I have the branded t-shirt to wear.

Softly, Softly

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There's a lot of stuff going on that I could write about. But since it's mostly demoralising, distressing, and downright depressing. I will give it a wide berth, take a rain check, and not add to the gallons of ink (metaphorically speaking, in the age of online media) that have already been splashed on it. 

Nor will I comment on how these regretful, terrible, disastrous events – sadly all man-made of course; there are no natural disasters to reflect on, no victims of force majeure to grieve, no "acts of God" to bemoan – are being leveraged by various politicians, from all sorts of camps, and of different, dare I use the word, convictions for their short-term gain. 

But then, I guess we get the representatives we freely elect. And afterwards, at least some of us suffer from a classic case of "buyer's remorse", the sense of regret after having made a purchase, the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach as you drive away from the store: "You shouldn't have bought that." "You should not have let that salesperson walk all over you."

In serious cases, I am told, symptoms can extend to anxiety, nausea, and sweaty palms. Sleepless nights even. But as voters in democracy, as opposed to shoppers in consumerism, at least we get to correct our mistake four or five years later – in theory, having counted our losses, and vowed to be more circumspect next time around. Sounds reassuring, right?

There is a new book out in the United States entitled Buyer's Remorse. How Obama Let the Liberals Down. It is authored by Bill Press, a prominent liberal (in the American sense) syndicated radio and television host who explains the many ways Barack Obama has failed to live up to either his promises or his progressive potential, leaving Democrats disillusioned on the issues that matter most: "He rode into office on a celebratory tide of liberal jubilation, but as his typically centrist presidency comes to a close, he leaves his supporters haunted by what might have been." [My emphasis]

I am not taking sides in this discussion, but the sentiment is well described I think. Needless to say, the Republicans, beholden more and more to the extremism of the Tea Party movement, never liked the man in the first place. He couldn't win, really, could he?

I do know one thing though. Barack Obama would trade any and all successes of his Presidency – and no matter what they tell you, there have been some – for a meaningful inroads into his country's gun laws. Of the worst twelve mass shootings in U.S. history, five happened on his watch. And if there is one thing he takes both seriously and personally, this is it.  

And I still do not wish to go into the dubious spectacle of Donald “The Donald” Trump and Hillary “It’s My Turn” Clinton battling it out for the White House.

Anyhow, the lasting image of the past days which I prefer to retain is that of a petite lady (I use the noun wisely, respectfully, and in the most complimentary way possible), wearing outrageously coloured outfits, and surrounded by her extended family as she celebrates her 90th birthday. 

Spoiler alert: It was her second such occasion this year already.

The relevance of this particular event will hopefully become clear at the conclusion of my musings – provided you read on of course. So for now, hold the thought and mental image please while I digress.

Joseph Samuel Nye, Jr, born in 1937, is an eminent American political scientist who developed the concept of “Soft Power”. It means the ability to attract, co-opt, and win over others by means of persuasion rather than resorting to coercion through force, financial inducements, or economic sanctions. The currency of a nation’s Soft Power consists of three elements, according to Nye: "its culture (in places where it is attractive to others), its political values (when it lives up to them at home and abroad), and its foreign policies (when others see them as legitimate and having moral authority).” Soft Power. The Means to Succeed in World Politics (2004) 

In his book, Nye argues that Soft Power is a more difficult instrument for governments to use than hard power for two reasons: many of its critical resources are outside their control, and Soft Power tends to "work indirectly by shaping the environment for policy, and sometimes takes years to produce the desired outcomes."

In a later work, The Future of Power (2011), Nye reiterates that Soft Power is a descriptive, rather than a normative, concept. Therefore, it can also be wielded for nefarious purposes. "Hitler, Stalin, and Mao all possessed a great deal of soft power in the eyes of their acolytes, but that did not make it good. It is not necessarily better to twist minds than to twist arms." Nicely put, Professor.

Disappointing all political romantics, Nye also explains that Soft Power does not contradict the theory of realism in international relations: "Soft power is not a form of idealism or liberalism. It is simply a form of power, one way of getting desired outcomes." – The capability to combine it, as appropriate and possible in any given case, with hard power is what Nye calls “smart power”.

Barack Obama totally understands Professor Nye’s model: “Real power means you get what you want without having to exert violence.” Which, on its own, would not have taken out Osama bin Laden of course.

Enough political theory to last us for a while, I would say. Why am I digging so deep here? Because Professor Nye’s musings have a lot of relevance for the macrocosmic world we inhabit and the microcosmic lives we lead in it. And they will eventually also bring us back to the aforementioned 90-year-old birthday girl.

I remember seeing a television interview in 1969 – yes, we did have moving pictures with sound coming out of a box in our living room back then, albeit of the black-and-white variety – with a certain Linda Eastman, a divorced New York photographer and single mother of a daughter, who had just married Paul McCartney. She was asked how she had managed to get one of the most eligible, attractive, and sought-after bachelors of the time to tie the knot with her. 

Her answer, short, pure, and simple: “By gentle persuasion.”

Linda McCartney sadly died from breast cancer in 1998, at the age of only 56. She and Sir Paul had three children – Mary, Stella, and James. And yes, your association is spot-on: Stella McCartney is one of the most successful fashion designers of her generation. Remember fashion, please.

47 years later, and no longer an impressionable kid, I still recall those words: “By gentle persuasion.”

“Thaw with her gentle persuasion is more powerful than Thor with his hammer. The one melts, the other breaks into pieces.” Henry David Thoreau, American author and philosopher (1817 – 1862)

Paul McCartney, John Lennon, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr, collectively known as The Beatles, along with many other British artists, over the past half-century have made a huge contribution, not just to the export statistics and the Treasury of the United Kingdom, but also, and maybe primarily, to its standing in the world – building its Soft Power at a time in history when “Rule Britannia” was a thing of the past. 

To this day, popular music, fashion and design, and the performing arts industry are widely influenced by British creative talent, and the Beatles, Rolling Stones, and many others who followed first gave the term “British invasion” a whole new meaning to Americans in the Sixties. And the “visited” people was delighted and quickly won over, once they had reassured themselves the “invaders” were not reclaiming their colonies lost in the War of Independence (1775 -1783).

But they were just the trailblazers. In today’s Hollywood, self-doubt and insecurity are so pervasive that local movie experts agonise over “The Decline of the American Actor”     (The Atlantic) - precipitated, mostly, by British competition. 

http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2015/07/decline-american-actor/395291/ 

But then, it isn’t all doom and gloom for the U.S. of A: Just this week, Portland Communications, an international political consultancy and PR firm headquartered in London, published the second edition of their annual global index “The Soft Power 30”, a ranking of countries according to the criteria Digital, Culture, Enterprise, Engagement, Education, and Government (all objective), complemented by international polling data reflecting public perception across the world (subjective).

The report makes for fascinating reading. The Top Ten overall are:

1. United States

2. United Kingdom

3. Germany

4. Canada

5. France

6. Australia

7. Japan

8. Switzerland

9. Sweden

10. Netherlands

http://softpower30.portland-communications.com/wp-content/themes/softpower/pdfs/the_soft_power_30.pdf 

Bottom line: "The ability to engage with and attract global audiences has never been so critical to prosperity, security, and international influence." (Index author Jonathan McClory)

China is in 28th out of 30 places: “While lack of democracy and free press continue to negatively impact perceptions, there is no question that China will remain a draw for investors and visitors alike, as it assumes the position of a 21st Century super-power,” comments McClory.

But since his country still has quite a way to go, China’s President Xi Jinping – in addition to championing a more assertive foreign policy, particularly in relation to Sino-Japanese relations; China's claims to the bulk of the South China Sea Islands; involvement in Asian regional affairs; further building its already huge presence in sub-Saharan Africa; and additional initiatives related to energy and natural resources – has identified the surest complementary Soft-Power means to achieve that status (and famously, the Chinese think very long-term): a government-led strategy to become no less than a “world football power by 2050”. 

Fortunately for the English, this island nation does not have to rely on such a fanciful undertaking as they can deploy world-beating talent in other relevant areas of life – see above. Less relevant than football maybe? You tell me.

Meanwhile, in China, no effort or expense is to be spared.

Before going into the details of this Master Plan, one anecdote simply must be told.

In September 2014, President Xi Jinping, having assumed this office only a-year-and-a-half before, for the first time visited India, the other Asian giant about to take on a central role on the world stage, or so everybody used to think at least. Remember the BRICs? If not, please check them out on Google. What was a revelation back in 2001 looks quite dated now. But then, no surprise there really, given the fast-moving and changing world we live in.

In the course of the high-profile, three-day affair, which of course was widely covered in the media, a newsreader at the Indian state TV channel Doordarshan referred to the illustrious guest on air as “Eleven” Jinping, mistaking his name with the Roman numerals XI. The poor woman was fired immediately for incompetence, and to everybody’s relief, the state visit was brought to a successful ending.

Her error sparked a flurry of reactions on social media, one tweeter wryly commenting: “Fired? She deserves own show.”

I have my own theory on this episode, and I admit it’s a conspiratorial one, but please bear with me. After all, only the paranoid survive.

To this day, I believe that newsreader was not nearly as ill-informed, innocent, and ignorant as everybody made her out to be. I think she was a very, very deep undercover agent about to be found out, whose only opportunity to get an all-important message to her handlers in the UK was on that live news show, almost two years before the Chinese government officially announced its plans. 

You see, she was in fact warning the English Football Association of the impending threat to their own ambitions for world domination. Football, Soccer to our American friends, a game played with 11, “Eleven” players. Get it?

This espionage triumph was owed to Soft Power at its best and in its most productive, genuinely heart-felt, and effective variety, drawing on the shared tradition of the glorious days of The Raj. Remember: the common language, the same legal system, and the identical Westminster parliamentary democracy – not to mention G&Ts, Chicken Masala, and, of course, cricket. 

Honestly, who needs the European Union?

But unfortunately, as we know now, the FA missed the cue, and instead the signal was indeed mistakenly picked up by the English and Wales Cricket Board, the governing body of another game played by teams of “Eleven”.

Ever since September 2014, its officials have now been engaged in “Operation Chopsticks”, getting ready for the day when just competing with Australia for The Ashes, and I will spare you the details of this particular Sports Oddity, would no longer be good enough.

The Power of Soft Power. Sadly, we have lost track of the heroic undercover agent moonlighting as a newsreader on Doordarshan. From a distance, I wish her well. For me, she is in the same league as World War One spy Mata Hari (1876 – 1917), surely the role model for all female spooks – well, except for her unhappy ending as being executed by a firing squad for all your troubles is obviously not a desirable career outcome.

Coming back now to President Xi Jinping’s ambitious plans for Chinese football, all finally unveiled in April of this year, they are of breath-taking dimensions. 

Don’t for a minute doubt this guy means business. And never mind the Andaman Islands or whatever else China is ostentatiously pursuing, engaging on, or throwing its weight around about.

When the boss sets his mind to anything, it gets done. And all Chinese oligarchs are “with the program” – some more, some less voluntarily – so money is really not an issue. Have you noted their latest shopping sprees for highly paid foreign stars to come and play for the clubs in the China Super League, and in parallel, their systematic foray into European football?

In recent weeks Chinese entities have either acquired clubs outright, such as England's Aston Villa, or taken controlling stakes in teams such as Inter Milan and Espanyol Barcelona in Spain – and possibly former Italian Premier Silvio Berlusconi's AC Milan, where talks are said to be ongoing. Chinese companies are also becoming sponsors of FIFA, the governing body of world football.Xi benefits from the decided advantage of a system that allows you to hold the top posts of the party and the military, in addition to being the Head of State through the office of the President. Indeed, he is sometimes referred to as China's "Paramount Leader" – still modest, compared to his comrade Kim Jong-un in Pyongyang, but then, as we discovered recently, he is entitled to a bit of bravado for his unrivalled pop girls groups. 

Meanwhile, back in DC, poor President Obama has nightmares of “Checks and Balances” – but that’s a good thing.

Just one fun fact, if I may: Among the Top Ten of the world’s biggest employers in 2015, according to Forbes magazine, three are (mainland) Chinese, with the Chinese Liberation Army proud runners-up to the U.S. Department of Defence. Don’t be misled, however. The majority of the CLA’s budget, efforts, and personnel are spent on “internal security”. With football hooligans at least for now way, way down their list of projects, priorities, and preoccupations. Ethnic minorities and religious movements, displaced and disenfranchised urban workforces, and young people misguided by foreign influences via the worldwide web, by contrast, are very much in scope.

Foxconn, in 10th place, is headquartered in Taiwan, that runaway island province we may or may not come back to another time. We should. Based on previous visits, I definitely think they deserve it.

The UK National Health Service, in fifth place and supplying a nation of merely 64 million, always baffles me. And of course it’s free of charge. But is it also sustainable?

Just by way of a comparison, China’s population is nearing 1.4 billion.

Well-documented world leaders in Soft Power already, as we have seen, the United States obviously don’t like to put all their eggs in one basket. 

“Speak softly and carry a big stick; you will go far.” U.S. President Theodore Roosevelt (1858 – 1919)

Smart power, Professor Nye – right?

Anyhow, coming back to China President “Eleven’s” Soft Power Game Plan, in brief, here’s the deal.

Qualifying for a World Cup is the first target – and yes, they have been there once before, in 2002, but were ignominiously eliminated after the Group stages, without a goal or a point, having lost to Brazil (predictable), Turkey (debatable), and Costa Rica (unacceptable). Hosting the tournament, with 2030 in his sights, and then winning football's ultimate prize remain long-term ambitions. A steep mountain to climb.

Key elements identified as being crucial to success are raising the level of play and thereby the attractiveness of the China Super League clubs by signing foreign stars; developing an original fan base; building a football culture; and nurturing home-grown talent. By 2020, Xi – a self-declared football fan – wants 50 million Chinese children and adults playing the Beautiful Game. 

Seeing there are currently 100 million kids under the age of six in his vast empire, the stats are on his side. Plus, of course, money is so not an issue. We had better take this seriously.

Meanwhile, even without yet being a world dominator in football, Xi Jinping is ranked fifth on the Forbes list of The World’s Most Powerful People 2015 (the latest available) behind, in ascending order, Pope Francis, Barack Obama, Angela Merkel, and Vladimir Putin [sic].

The German Chancellor, in turn, has very recently been ranked Number One in Forbes’ annual list of The World’s 100 Most Powerful Women – for the sixth year running, would you believe it. Just for one moment assuming a future U.S. President Hillary Clinton, elected in November and inaugurated in January, what may the list look like a year from now? In 2016, as a mere Presidential candidate, she is still only runner-up.

But I mean, if Barack Obama can be bested by Dr Merkel, who is to say she can’t also keep Mrs Clinton in her place. I’m taking bets, and for now, my money is on “Angie”, as her fans in Germany lovingly refer to her. The link, of course, is to the eponymous song released by The Rolling Stones in 1973 and first played in her honour during the German election campaign in 2005 – without permission by the Stones would you believe it.

“Angie, Angie, when will those clouds all disappear?

Angie, Angie, where will it lead us from here?

With no loving in our souls and no money in our coats

You can’t say we’re satisfied

But Angie, Angie, you can’t say we never tried

“Angie, you’re beautiful, but ain’t it time we said goodbye?

Angie, I still love you, remember all those nights we cried?

All the dreams we held so close seemed to all go up in smoke

Let me whisper in your ear,

Angie, Angie, where will it lead us from here?”

Those Christian Democrats – who would have thought? Angie won the elections and has held the office ever since.

And speaking of places, quite a bit further down that list is the 90-year-old I mentioned at the beginning. Ranked 29th, we find Queen Elizabeth II of The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, up from Number 41 in 2015. And here is what Forbes have to say about her:

“Last September, Queen Elizabeth II became the longest-reigning monarch in more than 1,200 years of British history (her great-great-grandmother Queen Victoria reigned for 63 years and 216 days). At 90, she is also the world's oldest monarch, setting the tone at public events and receiving world leaders and other visiting dignitaries at Buckingham Palace and Windsor Castle. The British Royal Family has enjoyed record popularity in recent years, last year celebrating the addition of a new member: Princess Charlotte Elizabeth Diana of Cambridge, the fourth in line to the throne. Ever the modern royal, ‘HRH’ was the first queen to send an e-mail, and she posted her first Tweet from the Science Museum in London in 2014. On the week of her 90th birthday, she received 17,420 pieces of mail from well-wishers, according to the Royal Family's Twitter account.”

Strangely, Portland in their The Soft Power 30 never even mention Her Majesty when summarising all the strengths of the United Kingdom which, we remember, they rank second in the world:

“There is no dearth of soft power strengths in the UK’s assets, strong government, vibrant culture, considerable heritage and history, and strong digital capacity make the UK one of the most admired nations in the world. Over 1700 foreign correspondents are based in the UK, and with a dynamic media market of its own, London is global media capital.”

And this is where I take exception with their assessment. What they say is all well and true, but “Queenie” – as she is lovingly called by her most loyal subjects when they speak about, not to, her – surely makes a huge contribution. For me, she is Soft Power Personified, holding not just four generations of “Royals”, a borderline dysfunctional family, together, but also playing a huge role, both as a public figure almost all “Brits” can rally behind – being a Republican in this country is a lonesome existence – and, importantly, endearing her nation to the rest of the world, thereby making it so much easier to transport or rather, export its undisputed “soft” assets. 

All the more so since, for historical reasons, Elizabeth II, Head of the Commonwealth, is also the Sovereign of Canada, Australia, and New Zealand, and of twelve more countries that have become independent since her accession in 1952: Jamaica, Barbados, the Bahamas, Grenada, Papua New Guinea, Solomon Islands, Tuvalu, Saint Lucia, Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, Belize, Antigua and Barbuda, and Saint Kitts and Nevis.

So, this past weekend Her Majesty celebrated her 90th birthday for the second time around. The actual date of her birth is 21 April 1926, but seeing the weather is usually not so great that time of the year, the British, pragmatic as ever, prefer to have the official party in June – not that it never rains then in this country either.

It was both a dignified and lavish three-day affair, with wide global media coverage, and nobody attending or watching it from afar could fail to be impressed by her, combining steely self-discipline, quiet authority, and personal charisma. What’s not to like?

Well, except maybe her taste in colours. In the course of the TV commentaries, however, I learned what that is all about. Elizabeth II has actually explained it in the past – she does it out of her deep sense of duty. Her credo is: “I have to be seen to be believed.”

I’ve seen her, and I’m a believer.

“I’m a Believer”? Ring a bell? The U.S. rock band, The Monkees had a huge hit with this song, written by Neil Diamond, and released in December 1966. 

Yes, that’s the year England won the World Cup, just the once. Don’t get me started on The Third Goal.

“I thought love was only true in fairy tales

Meant for someone else but not for me.

Love was out to get me

That's the way it seemed.

Disappointment haunted all my dreams.

“Then I saw her face, now I'm a believer

Not a trace of doubt in my mind.

I'm in love, I'm a believer!

I couldn't leave her if I tried.”

The Monkees have sold more than 75 million records worldwide and had more international hits, including "Last Train to Clarksville", "Pleasant Valley Sunday", and "Daydream Believer". At their peak in 1967, the band outsold the Beatles and the Rolling Stones combined.

And the great news for all of us old enough still to remember The Monkees from back then is they have released to good reviews a new album – playlist to younger people – on the occasion of their 50th anniversary, coinciding with a tour of, you have guessed it, 50 venues across the U.S. between now and the end of October. If you have nothing on for the 29th of that month, maybe consider travelling to Shippensburg, Pennsylvania, for the closing gig. Never been, but I hear it’s a downright delightful place to visit.

The title of both the tour and the album: “Good Times!”

Good times always, Your Majesty. With all due respect, Ma’am – you rock!

“Character may almost be called the most effective means of persuasion.” Aristotle, Ancient Greek philosopher (384 – 322 BC)