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Here is a rather amusing view, from the WSJ Europe edition. I really enjoyed the last paragraph.
COMMENTARY
An American in (Pre-War) Paris
By MARIO R. GARCIA
PARIS -- It is not easy to be an American in Paris these days. As France and Germany move forward on the world stage with their heavy opposition to the war in Iraq, anti-American feelings grow in both countries, but especially in this fair city. The images of the U.S. one sees on the covers of newsmagazines and the front pages of newspapers are not necessarily flattering, and all of us Americans -- regardless of our personal feelings on this inevitable confrontation with Iraq -- are easy prey for derogatory remarks. From taxi drivers to barbers and waiters, everyone has at least five minutes of anti-American rhetoric stored and ready to put on display.
Ironically, I found myself visiting both France and Germany within one day this month as part of my work. I woke up in Paris, flew to Germany for a five-hour meeting, and came back to Paris in the afternoon. A short journey by plane, a long one in terms of education. I realized that these two old European powers -- which appear to be singing a harmonious antiwar duet on the world stage -- approach their opposition to war differently.
Culture plays a part in geopolitics, no doubt. However, I find it curious to hear the German and French explain why they oppose the war with Iraq -- and in the process, cut each other to shreds. This relationship is far from that of a cozy and charming old couple doing a smooth Fred and Ginger number.
Instead, the reality is this: The German pacifism is heartfelt. "We Germans are pretty much anti war, having seen our share of it," the CEO of one of German's largest media groups told me in casual conversation. His feelings are echoed by others. Basically, the Germans claim they are only expressing antiwar feelings because a face-off with Iraq would lead to a catastrophic situation that may put the world in danger.
"If the Americans start a war in Iraq, the world will come to a boiling point, the Middle East peace process will forever be derailed, it will crash, really. We must avoid bringing the world to the brink of disaster. We have not risked such perilous fate since perhaps the Cuban Missile crisis of the 1960s," said the CEO.
But the Germans are quick to tell you that the French's motives for opposing the war are quite different, and less acceptable. The French, they say, only "wish to see themselves as big players in world politics, a superpower in intellectual terms, one country that can say non to Washington and get away with it," as one German journalist put it to me. "The French prefer to be big players in a world in tumult and war, than to be small players in a peaceful one. They want their moment in the spotlight, even if it means a catastrophic war." One could hear the old rivalries between the two countries as the subtext of the conversation.
Some Germans also tell you that the French are going to buckle under pressure to Washington. "You will see that 24 hours before the war starts, the French will get on the American train, but not the Germans. We will not join the Americans on this one. To us this is real business, felt from the heart, no ulterior motives or desire for fame here," a German woman said to me.
But, voila, the French, too, have something to say about their German allies. To them, Germany's Gerhard Schroeder is opposing the war simply because of politics. They claim that Mr. Schröder barely won the last elections, on the promise of not involving Germany in a war with Iraq, and now he must live with that promise and its consequences. The French, ironically, see themselves as determined and resolute against any U.S. show of force with Iraq. As one journalist put it, "We have analyzed and intellectualized the conflict, and decided that it makes sense not to fight Iraq, but to bring Saddam Hussein to relinquish whatever arsenal of weapons he may have through diplomatic, peaceful means. We are true agents of peace."
Meanwhile, the French press seems to take pride in how the French are giving Washington what some refer to as "la colere," or extreme anger. It is not unusual to read headlines that read: "Bush not interested in what the world thinks." Magazines no longer call it the Iraq War, but La Guerre Bush. Cartoonists delight in placing images of President George W. Bush next to the Iraqi oil fields, savoring the moment, anticipating the "loot."
In this environment, for those of us working here this winter, it is best to avoid head-on confrontations, although it is sad to be the victim of rejection on the basis of one's nationality. Case in point: As I stepped out of my hotel in Paris for my morning run, a young man was also coming out of the hotel for a jog. We exchanged hellos, he asked for directions for a good run, and we decided to run together toward the beautiful Champs D'Elysees. Barely half a mile into the run, he asked where I was from and I told him the United States. His attitude suddenly shifted. "I really do not like how Americans are trying to play sheriffs to the world, truly, so I prefer not to run with you," he said, speeding away in a different direction before I could say anything.
I headed straight ahead toward the Arch of Triumph. I had mixed emotions. This young man, from the south of France, had no idea how I personally felt about the Iraq war. But that did not matter to him. I was an American -- that's all he needed to know.
My initial reaction was to run toward him and explain my position on the war, but I decided that it would be more therapeutic to take the invigorating fresh air, enjoy the sights of one of the world's most beautiful avenues and think that nothing is ever as good or as bad as it seems.
If, as we all may agree, wars are divisive and destructive, it is obvious that the process has started even before the first missile is fired. It is not just a war of Iraq vs. the U.S. and its allies, it is also part of the world against the Americans -- one citizen at a time, one jogger against another, one taxi driver against its passenger or one barber against the client.
It would be easy for me to disguise my American nationality and pretend that I am Spanish. But I refuse to do so. Nothing can fire up fervent patriotism faster than rejection on the basis of one's passport. So here I am, an American in Paris in the winter of 2003, and proud of it, even it if means running alone.
Mr. Garcia is president and CEO of Tampa-based Garcia-Media Group, and a faculty affiliate of the Poynter Institute for Media Studies.
COMMENTARY
An American in (Pre-War) Paris
By MARIO R. GARCIA
PARIS -- It is not easy to be an American in Paris these days. As France and Germany move forward on the world stage with their heavy opposition to the war in Iraq, anti-American feelings grow in both countries, but especially in this fair city. The images of the U.S. one sees on the covers of newsmagazines and the front pages of newspapers are not necessarily flattering, and all of us Americans -- regardless of our personal feelings on this inevitable confrontation with Iraq -- are easy prey for derogatory remarks. From taxi drivers to barbers and waiters, everyone has at least five minutes of anti-American rhetoric stored and ready to put on display.
Ironically, I found myself visiting both France and Germany within one day this month as part of my work. I woke up in Paris, flew to Germany for a five-hour meeting, and came back to Paris in the afternoon. A short journey by plane, a long one in terms of education. I realized that these two old European powers -- which appear to be singing a harmonious antiwar duet on the world stage -- approach their opposition to war differently.
Culture plays a part in geopolitics, no doubt. However, I find it curious to hear the German and French explain why they oppose the war with Iraq -- and in the process, cut each other to shreds. This relationship is far from that of a cozy and charming old couple doing a smooth Fred and Ginger number.
Instead, the reality is this: The German pacifism is heartfelt. "We Germans are pretty much anti war, having seen our share of it," the CEO of one of German's largest media groups told me in casual conversation. His feelings are echoed by others. Basically, the Germans claim they are only expressing antiwar feelings because a face-off with Iraq would lead to a catastrophic situation that may put the world in danger.
"If the Americans start a war in Iraq, the world will come to a boiling point, the Middle East peace process will forever be derailed, it will crash, really. We must avoid bringing the world to the brink of disaster. We have not risked such perilous fate since perhaps the Cuban Missile crisis of the 1960s," said the CEO.
But the Germans are quick to tell you that the French's motives for opposing the war are quite different, and less acceptable. The French, they say, only "wish to see themselves as big players in world politics, a superpower in intellectual terms, one country that can say non to Washington and get away with it," as one German journalist put it to me. "The French prefer to be big players in a world in tumult and war, than to be small players in a peaceful one. They want their moment in the spotlight, even if it means a catastrophic war." One could hear the old rivalries between the two countries as the subtext of the conversation.
Some Germans also tell you that the French are going to buckle under pressure to Washington. "You will see that 24 hours before the war starts, the French will get on the American train, but not the Germans. We will not join the Americans on this one. To us this is real business, felt from the heart, no ulterior motives or desire for fame here," a German woman said to me.
But, voila, the French, too, have something to say about their German allies. To them, Germany's Gerhard Schroeder is opposing the war simply because of politics. They claim that Mr. Schröder barely won the last elections, on the promise of not involving Germany in a war with Iraq, and now he must live with that promise and its consequences. The French, ironically, see themselves as determined and resolute against any U.S. show of force with Iraq. As one journalist put it, "We have analyzed and intellectualized the conflict, and decided that it makes sense not to fight Iraq, but to bring Saddam Hussein to relinquish whatever arsenal of weapons he may have through diplomatic, peaceful means. We are true agents of peace."
Meanwhile, the French press seems to take pride in how the French are giving Washington what some refer to as "la colere," or extreme anger. It is not unusual to read headlines that read: "Bush not interested in what the world thinks." Magazines no longer call it the Iraq War, but La Guerre Bush. Cartoonists delight in placing images of President George W. Bush next to the Iraqi oil fields, savoring the moment, anticipating the "loot."
In this environment, for those of us working here this winter, it is best to avoid head-on confrontations, although it is sad to be the victim of rejection on the basis of one's nationality. Case in point: As I stepped out of my hotel in Paris for my morning run, a young man was also coming out of the hotel for a jog. We exchanged hellos, he asked for directions for a good run, and we decided to run together toward the beautiful Champs D'Elysees. Barely half a mile into the run, he asked where I was from and I told him the United States. His attitude suddenly shifted. "I really do not like how Americans are trying to play sheriffs to the world, truly, so I prefer not to run with you," he said, speeding away in a different direction before I could say anything.
I headed straight ahead toward the Arch of Triumph. I had mixed emotions. This young man, from the south of France, had no idea how I personally felt about the Iraq war. But that did not matter to him. I was an American -- that's all he needed to know.
My initial reaction was to run toward him and explain my position on the war, but I decided that it would be more therapeutic to take the invigorating fresh air, enjoy the sights of one of the world's most beautiful avenues and think that nothing is ever as good or as bad as it seems.
If, as we all may agree, wars are divisive and destructive, it is obvious that the process has started even before the first missile is fired. It is not just a war of Iraq vs. the U.S. and its allies, it is also part of the world against the Americans -- one citizen at a time, one jogger against another, one taxi driver against its passenger or one barber against the client.
It would be easy for me to disguise my American nationality and pretend that I am Spanish. But I refuse to do so. Nothing can fire up fervent patriotism faster than rejection on the basis of one's passport. So here I am, an American in Paris in the winter of 2003, and proud of it, even it if means running alone.
Mr. Garcia is president and CEO of Tampa-based Garcia-Media Group, and a faculty affiliate of the Poynter Institute for Media Studies.
