TNYT has done a lot of reporting about the useless legislature in Albany. This morning, it went over the same ground again and it will be wasted time, again. It did not mention what it editorially has not supported: term limits. Two terms and you're out. Just like NYC has for mayor, ah, had for mayor.
At least with term limits the amount of damage they can do is limited. What we have now is wretched and nothing the current crop of politicians will do, which is probably nothing, will help. Kicking them out every once is a while at least keeps them from getting too much experience stealing from us.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
Circling Idlewild
She was flying above the Atlantic, pregnant, traveling alone to a place she had never seen to meet strangers, as the propeller droned. He would soon be on a beach in France, but she didn’t know that, then. She saw clear blue sky and seemingly unending water. There were men in uniform. She saw most had bandages or slings. Some were on crutches. There were also the dead men in the cargo hold she could not see. She got used to the drone of the propeller.
It had been a struggle to get her on the plane. Her husband said it would be impossible to get out of England just then. She continued to insist. He was a lieutenant in the U.S. Army, certainly you could find a way. She wanted time for her baby. It took a lot of negotiation and cash. And it took a promise that she carried with her to America in her purse.
She was afraid. Her fear was constant like the drone of the propellers. As the flight went on, her fear subsided and merged into the background. She got used to the fear. The fear never left her; it continued long after she left the plane, long after the boy was born. It stayed through the decades until she was very old.
She told the boy years later about war and time. War’s greatest disgrace is not murder, she said, it is theft. War first steals youth, its vitality and vigor. It steals the time one would normally spend on family and friends. War also steals the time one uses finding out what one aught to know and replaces it with learning things that never should have been revealed.
There was one more thing she told the boy about war: its larceny of time never ends. War slices so expertly a layer of time from your life that a piece from every part of your life is lost. You feel misplaced throughout your life, from the time war performs its crafty surgery until you can no longer feel anything at all. That wretchedness drones on and may recede into the background, but it is unceasingly present until you die.
Halfway across the ocean, she realized there was no more time. She knew that before the plane landed she would no longer be pregnant. That is what happened. The boy began life wrapped in parachute cloth. His experience of time started while circling through the light clouds above Idlewild Airport.
She had married him in England, she a graduate student, and he a U.S. Army Lieutenant. They met, courted and married in four weeks. It was August 1943 and they knew that war could intercede to take away their time. The boy heard their story in short pieces from American relatives; her parents and sisters died in The Blitz.
When they knew they would be married, he said she should go to live with his parents in New York. She could have the baby there. They would be safe in America, she and the baby, and he would join them as soon as he could. Though her parents and sisters were dead, she had two uncles and an aunt. She lived with the aunt. They were family and she was, at first, reluctant to leave them. Quickly, as her baby developed, she became more concerned about its safety. The baby needed to get out of the war. She wanted to be out of the war, too.
They delayed. It became spring and they were losing time. He became more reluctant and she more determined. An Air Force pilot he knew from university arrived and said he could arrange it all. It took another month, but she would leave in early May. The pilot had to pay for the paperwork and he asked a favor. She carried the letter for the pilot. It was addressed to her husband’s parents.
She boarded the military plane under a stunningly blue sky. It was warm and sweat dripped down the sides of his face from under his cap. I will be seeing you soon he said. She cried. He would probably die and she was big and fat and going to a strange country to live with strangers and there was somebody she did not know growing inside of her. They kissed, and she climbed a couple of steps and turned. He held her not too hard; her round belly pushed gently against the side of his face. Then she climbed into the plane and soon she was gone.
There was a window seat open and a big, burley sergeant with curly hair and a broad smile, stood up to let her in. His talking calmed her. I’ve taken care of plenty of babies, he said. His five sisters had at least one a piece. He himself had even delivered one of his nephews in the back of a bread truck. The boy would be the second baby he helped into the world.
It had been a struggle to get her on the plane. Her husband said it would be impossible to get out of England just then. She continued to insist. He was a lieutenant in the U.S. Army, certainly you could find a way. She wanted time for her baby. It took a lot of negotiation and cash. And it took a promise that she carried with her to America in her purse.
She was afraid. Her fear was constant like the drone of the propellers. As the flight went on, her fear subsided and merged into the background. She got used to the fear. The fear never left her; it continued long after she left the plane, long after the boy was born. It stayed through the decades until she was very old.
She told the boy years later about war and time. War’s greatest disgrace is not murder, she said, it is theft. War first steals youth, its vitality and vigor. It steals the time one would normally spend on family and friends. War also steals the time one uses finding out what one aught to know and replaces it with learning things that never should have been revealed.
There was one more thing she told the boy about war: its larceny of time never ends. War slices so expertly a layer of time from your life that a piece from every part of your life is lost. You feel misplaced throughout your life, from the time war performs its crafty surgery until you can no longer feel anything at all. That wretchedness drones on and may recede into the background, but it is unceasingly present until you die.
Halfway across the ocean, she realized there was no more time. She knew that before the plane landed she would no longer be pregnant. That is what happened. The boy began life wrapped in parachute cloth. His experience of time started while circling through the light clouds above Idlewild Airport.
She had married him in England, she a graduate student, and he a U.S. Army Lieutenant. They met, courted and married in four weeks. It was August 1943 and they knew that war could intercede to take away their time. The boy heard their story in short pieces from American relatives; her parents and sisters died in The Blitz.
When they knew they would be married, he said she should go to live with his parents in New York. She could have the baby there. They would be safe in America, she and the baby, and he would join them as soon as he could. Though her parents and sisters were dead, she had two uncles and an aunt. She lived with the aunt. They were family and she was, at first, reluctant to leave them. Quickly, as her baby developed, she became more concerned about its safety. The baby needed to get out of the war. She wanted to be out of the war, too.
They delayed. It became spring and they were losing time. He became more reluctant and she more determined. An Air Force pilot he knew from university arrived and said he could arrange it all. It took another month, but she would leave in early May. The pilot had to pay for the paperwork and he asked a favor. She carried the letter for the pilot. It was addressed to her husband’s parents.
She boarded the military plane under a stunningly blue sky. It was warm and sweat dripped down the sides of his face from under his cap. I will be seeing you soon he said. She cried. He would probably die and she was big and fat and going to a strange country to live with strangers and there was somebody she did not know growing inside of her. They kissed, and she climbed a couple of steps and turned. He held her not too hard; her round belly pushed gently against the side of his face. Then she climbed into the plane and soon she was gone.
There was a window seat open and a big, burley sergeant with curly hair and a broad smile, stood up to let her in. His talking calmed her. I’ve taken care of plenty of babies, he said. His five sisters had at least one a piece. He himself had even delivered one of his nephews in the back of a bread truck. The boy would be the second baby he helped into the world.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
The Salesmen of Death
My wretched mood continues, though there is a break in the rain now.
It is around two hours past the time, 17:00 Tehran, that Sunday’s protests were supposed to begin. Calm prevails, so far. According to TNYT, protest leaders are talking about off-street demonstrations. Good. Street protests only will end in corpses. I hope this day’s peace continues and offers a respite from death.
There is no respite from the commentators who are paid to promote the interests of the ruling class from their deskchairs. Their bodies are not in the line of fire.
“There’s a very basic lesson here: For great powers, studied neutrality isn’t an option,” wrote Mark Steyn in The National Review.
This is the basic lesson of a sixth-grade school child. For great powers, often the best choice is to do nothing; let events on the street play out, and then work with the results. This is the difference between great powers and brutal thugs. Steyn and his cadre were brought up on the Rambo school of diplomacy: kill them before they kill us. They are employed to be the salesmen of death. For the gains in the end will be too small for the many priceless lives spent.
These salesmen of death are the most wretched of men.
“… faux elections because while the regime may have counted the votes accurately, it tightly controlled who could run. The choices were dark black and light black,” wrote TNYT Thomas Freidman in this morning’s paper.
For this you support a revolution? Do these people not understand how many worms will compost the protestors’ corpses?
Nearly anything an American President is politically allowed to say will push Ayatollah Ali Khamenei deeper into a corner. When you corner rulers who are perfectly capable of great brutality (that means most rulers in the history of civilization), they will react predictably. The first responsibility of anyone who rules any country is to keep in power. That is an unavoidable fact. The salesmen of death know this and want to use this fact to force Iran into a downward spiral of chaos. They would then feel justified calling, in their constant chorus, for the hard line tactics they believe can force Iran back under the control of the American Empire.
“I’ve also argued that, although repressive, the Islamic Republic offers significant margins of freedom by regional standards. I erred in underestimating the brutality and cynicism of a regime that understands the uses of ruthlessness,” wrote Roger Cohen in TNYT on June 14. (He is bravely reporting from Tehran.)
Cohen did not make an error. Both are true. In 1979, when American hostages were held in Iran, protestors were heard shouting death to the great satan at the television cameras. Then, they would turn away, and, with equal fervor, express friendship for Americans. Nations and people are complex, especially a nation and a people as old as Iran.
All rulers are capable of great banality and cynicism. All rulers understand ruthlessness, else they would not be in power. Al Gore did not become president because George W. Bush understood these lessons and Gore either did not, or he chose a gentler path. I cannot tell which. The outcome was the same, in any case.
Remember that our elections are faux, too. Americans are only more sophisticated in our methods than clumsy rulers elsewhere. Election districts are drawn to maintain elected officials in power. Only a great deal of money elects rulers here. Power does not come from the barrel of a gun in America as from the pocket of a billfold. (Do not be fooled. Rulers here are perfectly capable of ruling by the gun when circumstances allow.) Even the simplest checks on the new, computerized voting machines, those hackers’ delights, are voraciously fought against by those whose interests are in controlling vote counting. There is no limit to the ruthlessness of any nation’s ruling class.
Khamenei has no choice but to support the election. If he annuls the election he admits the process is a farce. If there is a recount and Hussein Moussavi wins, the election will be revealed as a farce. If there is a recount and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad is still the winner, the recount will be called a farce. America should be wise enough to recognize this. Any rhetorical behests from American officials only serve to harden Khamenei’s resolve to use brutal means to keep power.
It is the apex of wretchedness to push Iran into such chaos.
“Shouts of outrage are fine by folks like me on the web, but the U.S. government should never forget that its primary task is to do no harm,” wrote Gary Sick on Gary’s Choices. “It may be hard to hold your tongue, but then nobody ever said foreign policy was easy.”
It is around two hours past the time, 17:00 Tehran, that Sunday’s protests were supposed to begin. Calm prevails, so far. According to TNYT, protest leaders are talking about off-street demonstrations. Good. Street protests only will end in corpses. I hope this day’s peace continues and offers a respite from death.
There is no respite from the commentators who are paid to promote the interests of the ruling class from their deskchairs. Their bodies are not in the line of fire.
“There’s a very basic lesson here: For great powers, studied neutrality isn’t an option,” wrote Mark Steyn in The National Review.
This is the basic lesson of a sixth-grade school child. For great powers, often the best choice is to do nothing; let events on the street play out, and then work with the results. This is the difference between great powers and brutal thugs. Steyn and his cadre were brought up on the Rambo school of diplomacy: kill them before they kill us. They are employed to be the salesmen of death. For the gains in the end will be too small for the many priceless lives spent.
These salesmen of death are the most wretched of men.
“… faux elections because while the regime may have counted the votes accurately, it tightly controlled who could run. The choices were dark black and light black,” wrote TNYT Thomas Freidman in this morning’s paper.
For this you support a revolution? Do these people not understand how many worms will compost the protestors’ corpses?
Nearly anything an American President is politically allowed to say will push Ayatollah Ali Khamenei deeper into a corner. When you corner rulers who are perfectly capable of great brutality (that means most rulers in the history of civilization), they will react predictably. The first responsibility of anyone who rules any country is to keep in power. That is an unavoidable fact. The salesmen of death know this and want to use this fact to force Iran into a downward spiral of chaos. They would then feel justified calling, in their constant chorus, for the hard line tactics they believe can force Iran back under the control of the American Empire.
“I’ve also argued that, although repressive, the Islamic Republic offers significant margins of freedom by regional standards. I erred in underestimating the brutality and cynicism of a regime that understands the uses of ruthlessness,” wrote Roger Cohen in TNYT on June 14. (He is bravely reporting from Tehran.)
Cohen did not make an error. Both are true. In 1979, when American hostages were held in Iran, protestors were heard shouting death to the great satan at the television cameras. Then, they would turn away, and, with equal fervor, express friendship for Americans. Nations and people are complex, especially a nation and a people as old as Iran.
All rulers are capable of great banality and cynicism. All rulers understand ruthlessness, else they would not be in power. Al Gore did not become president because George W. Bush understood these lessons and Gore either did not, or he chose a gentler path. I cannot tell which. The outcome was the same, in any case.
Remember that our elections are faux, too. Americans are only more sophisticated in our methods than clumsy rulers elsewhere. Election districts are drawn to maintain elected officials in power. Only a great deal of money elects rulers here. Power does not come from the barrel of a gun in America as from the pocket of a billfold. (Do not be fooled. Rulers here are perfectly capable of ruling by the gun when circumstances allow.) Even the simplest checks on the new, computerized voting machines, those hackers’ delights, are voraciously fought against by those whose interests are in controlling vote counting. There is no limit to the ruthlessness of any nation’s ruling class.
Khamenei has no choice but to support the election. If he annuls the election he admits the process is a farce. If there is a recount and Hussein Moussavi wins, the election will be revealed as a farce. If there is a recount and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad is still the winner, the recount will be called a farce. America should be wise enough to recognize this. Any rhetorical behests from American officials only serve to harden Khamenei’s resolve to use brutal means to keep power.
It is the apex of wretchedness to push Iran into such chaos.
“Shouts of outrage are fine by folks like me on the web, but the U.S. government should never forget that its primary task is to do no harm,” wrote Gary Sick on Gary’s Choices. “It may be hard to hold your tongue, but then nobody ever said foreign policy was easy.”
Saturday, June 20, 2009
A Vain Cry for Breath
This is a most wretched day. New York is in the midst of a monsoon; everybody is depressed. New York State still has no working government. Cookie dough is being recalled for E coli contamination. President Obama seemed to be practicing last night, at the Radio and Television Correspondents Association dinner, for his next career: on Comedy Central.
Oh, yes. A massacre is underway in Tehran.
I would weep if I had any tears left. In the six and a half decades that I have been breathing millions have involuntarily stopped breathing, and I have shed tears for them. It is a wonder my weeping has not turned me into a desiccated corpse. So no more tears from me; I would rather breathe than not breathe.
“The World cries seeing your last breath, you didn't die in vain. We remember you,” one poster is reported to have Twittered.
All dying is in vain. The only thing more persistent than violence among human beings is death. And death could be seen as unusually persistent except there is nothing abnormal about dying. Iran seems poised for a killing season, a monsoon of violence. It is time for retreat. We need to forget our national and international policies and ask all sides to withdraw. America’s interest, everyone’s interest, pales before the finality of oblivion. There will be time enough to talk to Iran’s rulers about keeping civilization’s worst killing devices from spreading. Time for talk ends only when breathing ends.
All the protest over the election results are in vain. For when the killing ends the same rulers will prevail and the same national interests will remain.
Evidently, there are a lot of people in Iran who are at a point of voluntarily giving up respiration for their cause. As always, whenever people prefer not to breath, there are plenty of others who will be glad to hold a pillow over their willing faces.
Are there any good guys in Iran? Ayatollah Ali Khamenei is threatening protestors. Shut up or be killed! Mir Hussein Moussavi is reported to have said he will accept martyrdom. Is he hoping to lead his followers to certain death by example? A suicide bomber attacked a shrine to Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini. Was the bomber a Moussavi martyr or working for the government to blemish the protest movement? The protestors themselves know the government is ready to kill as much as necessary to restore order, but continue anyway. It is always a lovely day to die.
None in Iran are as wretched as our own government. President Obama takes the side of the protestors; he spurs them on by only admonishing the rulers of Iran. “If the Iranian government seeks the respect of the international community, it must respect the dignity of its own people and govern through consent, not coercion,” BHO said in a statement released by the White House. Blast dignity to hell. All governments, everywhere, must ask all sides to cease tempting the death instinct. Tell protestors to go home and stay home. Ask Iran’s rulers to send its Basij troops back to the barracks. It is time to assure Iran’s ruling class America will recognize its authority after the crisis ends and that we will no longer interfere with Iran’s internal affairs.
America asking a country to respect the dignity of its own people is like O.J. Simpson engaging in marriage counseling. Our history is littered with the undermining of democratically elected governments. Iran is the prime example of America’s wretched behavior. If you were in charge in Iran would you have anything but contempt for American rulers who have not only overthrown your government, but have done nearly everything short of invasion to undermine your country?
First, America isolates that ancient nation from normal international discourse for the sake of our own domestic political ends, then we, one of the youngest of nations, make demands. All such demands are in vain unless America is ready to stop enough Iranian people from breathing so they acquiesce. That is the vainest of hopes.
Night fell on Iran; inevitable darkness seems to ebb the tide of death. I have this wretched fear that once the sun rises, unless morning brings sobriety to all sides, the protest and killing will continue. For while there has been plenty of killing in the shade, mass death, perversely, happens more efficiently under the sun.
One protestor was quoted in a news report to have said they, the rulers, are out of their minds if they think bloodshed can crush their movement. A wretchedly reckless thing to believe. Governments are known to be willing to shed as much blood as it takes to quench any threat to their rule.
Enough people have stopped breathing for the privilege of fronting for Iran’s rulers.
Oh, yes. A massacre is underway in Tehran.
I would weep if I had any tears left. In the six and a half decades that I have been breathing millions have involuntarily stopped breathing, and I have shed tears for them. It is a wonder my weeping has not turned me into a desiccated corpse. So no more tears from me; I would rather breathe than not breathe.
“The World cries seeing your last breath, you didn't die in vain. We remember you,” one poster is reported to have Twittered.
All dying is in vain. The only thing more persistent than violence among human beings is death. And death could be seen as unusually persistent except there is nothing abnormal about dying. Iran seems poised for a killing season, a monsoon of violence. It is time for retreat. We need to forget our national and international policies and ask all sides to withdraw. America’s interest, everyone’s interest, pales before the finality of oblivion. There will be time enough to talk to Iran’s rulers about keeping civilization’s worst killing devices from spreading. Time for talk ends only when breathing ends.
All the protest over the election results are in vain. For when the killing ends the same rulers will prevail and the same national interests will remain.
Evidently, there are a lot of people in Iran who are at a point of voluntarily giving up respiration for their cause. As always, whenever people prefer not to breath, there are plenty of others who will be glad to hold a pillow over their willing faces.
Are there any good guys in Iran? Ayatollah Ali Khamenei is threatening protestors. Shut up or be killed! Mir Hussein Moussavi is reported to have said he will accept martyrdom. Is he hoping to lead his followers to certain death by example? A suicide bomber attacked a shrine to Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini. Was the bomber a Moussavi martyr or working for the government to blemish the protest movement? The protestors themselves know the government is ready to kill as much as necessary to restore order, but continue anyway. It is always a lovely day to die.
None in Iran are as wretched as our own government. President Obama takes the side of the protestors; he spurs them on by only admonishing the rulers of Iran. “If the Iranian government seeks the respect of the international community, it must respect the dignity of its own people and govern through consent, not coercion,” BHO said in a statement released by the White House. Blast dignity to hell. All governments, everywhere, must ask all sides to cease tempting the death instinct. Tell protestors to go home and stay home. Ask Iran’s rulers to send its Basij troops back to the barracks. It is time to assure Iran’s ruling class America will recognize its authority after the crisis ends and that we will no longer interfere with Iran’s internal affairs.
America asking a country to respect the dignity of its own people is like O.J. Simpson engaging in marriage counseling. Our history is littered with the undermining of democratically elected governments. Iran is the prime example of America’s wretched behavior. If you were in charge in Iran would you have anything but contempt for American rulers who have not only overthrown your government, but have done nearly everything short of invasion to undermine your country?
First, America isolates that ancient nation from normal international discourse for the sake of our own domestic political ends, then we, one of the youngest of nations, make demands. All such demands are in vain unless America is ready to stop enough Iranian people from breathing so they acquiesce. That is the vainest of hopes.
Night fell on Iran; inevitable darkness seems to ebb the tide of death. I have this wretched fear that once the sun rises, unless morning brings sobriety to all sides, the protest and killing will continue. For while there has been plenty of killing in the shade, mass death, perversely, happens more efficiently under the sun.
One protestor was quoted in a news report to have said they, the rulers, are out of their minds if they think bloodshed can crush their movement. A wretchedly reckless thing to believe. Governments are known to be willing to shed as much blood as it takes to quench any threat to their rule.
Enough people have stopped breathing for the privilege of fronting for Iran’s rulers.
Maybe they don't like the beards
Damn. Now, I will have to update the Wasting Time list because WashPo fired Dan Froomkin. I always thought is was wasting time(squared) to put a standard newspaperland source on this list.
Sydney Schanberg, who was a NYT's Op-ed columnist (focused on Metro issues) was fired for being a pain in the ass, too. That was at a time when it was almost unheard of for TNYT to fire a columnist. There ain't nothing new.
The circumstances for such firings are always different with each case. At the same time, it seems that standard newspaperland management leans toward the ruling powers when it makes its decisions.
At the time of this posting, Wikipedia does not even mention TNYT fired Schanberg.
So it goes.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Springtime for Amherst
“Lenders didn’t hold on to their loans, but instead sold them off to be repackaged into securities, which in turn were sold to investors who didn’t understand what they were buying.”
When I saw this quote from President Obama, I thought it was a wretched analysis of the state of affairs regarding credit-default swaps and subprime mortgage-backed securities. Does BHO really believe the people buying CDS are that stupid? Then I remembered Max Bialystock.
Bialystock was the fictional Broadway producer who oversold shares in his new play, betting it would flop and he would not have to return his investors’ money. Max would have made money for himself and his partner, but it was illegal. Plus, it was small potatoes. Bialystock needed to think on a larger scale, like the financial firms America has bailed out.
Amherst Holdings, the Texas brokerage house, built on the Bialystock method by buying subprime mortgages and overselling CDS on those mortgages. It then arranged to pay down those toxic loans and profited on the difference: they purchased $29 million of subprime mortgages and sold $130 million of CDS. Now the buyers of the CDS are crying foul. Boohoo.
All this was splendidly reported in The Wall Street Journal.
Those people are that stupid. Even I wasn’t wretch enough to think that.
When I saw this quote from President Obama, I thought it was a wretched analysis of the state of affairs regarding credit-default swaps and subprime mortgage-backed securities. Does BHO really believe the people buying CDS are that stupid? Then I remembered Max Bialystock.
Bialystock was the fictional Broadway producer who oversold shares in his new play, betting it would flop and he would not have to return his investors’ money. Max would have made money for himself and his partner, but it was illegal. Plus, it was small potatoes. Bialystock needed to think on a larger scale, like the financial firms America has bailed out.
Amherst Holdings, the Texas brokerage house, built on the Bialystock method by buying subprime mortgages and overselling CDS on those mortgages. It then arranged to pay down those toxic loans and profited on the difference: they purchased $29 million of subprime mortgages and sold $130 million of CDS. Now the buyers of the CDS are crying foul. Boohoo.
All this was splendidly reported in The Wall Street Journal.
Those people are that stupid. Even I wasn’t wretch enough to think that.
Choosing Sides
I know I am wasting time. Here it is anyway.
In his post at TruthDig, "The War Between Civilizations That Never Was," William Pfaff noted:
"(The Chinese are now on the side of the United States, where much of their fortune is tied up.)"
I won't comment on Pfaff's main topic involving Professor Samuel Huntington's odd notions about the clash of civilizations. That's time to waste another day.
As to Pfaff's aside, we must constantly keep in mind that every country in the history of the human race has only been on one side, its own. Any ruling class in any country would be rightfully subject to violent revolt if they made any decision against the country’s interest, allies be damned.
If China were on “our side” it would put more pressure on North Korea, with which it trades profitably in armaments. China also wants to be dominant in its region and not increase America’s influence there.
No country does anything that is not in its interest unless it is forced by a stronger country. We constantly forget this primary rule of international affairs.
The bonds that tie nations are among the most ephemeral alliances.
In his post at TruthDig, "The War Between Civilizations That Never Was," William Pfaff noted:
"(The Chinese are now on the side of the United States, where much of their fortune is tied up.)"
I won't comment on Pfaff's main topic involving Professor Samuel Huntington's odd notions about the clash of civilizations. That's time to waste another day.
As to Pfaff's aside, we must constantly keep in mind that every country in the history of the human race has only been on one side, its own. Any ruling class in any country would be rightfully subject to violent revolt if they made any decision against the country’s interest, allies be damned.
If China were on “our side” it would put more pressure on North Korea, with which it trades profitably in armaments. China also wants to be dominant in its region and not increase America’s influence there.
No country does anything that is not in its interest unless it is forced by a stronger country. We constantly forget this primary rule of international affairs.
The bonds that tie nations are among the most ephemeral alliances.
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