Operation Nobel, part II

The prize committee issues Obama with a call to action

So, the weather didn't clear, but the mood in Oslo lifted distinctly yesterday evening: Barack Obama seems to have pulled off the remarkable trick of talking peace while standing firm to his commitments to war. And despite annoying the Norwegians at first by making his visit so peremptory -- "Everybody wants to visit the Peace Centre except Obama," snarked the newspaper Aftenposten -- he even seems to have warmed their hearts. He has done all this in less than a day. Living up to the prize will be nothing like as easy.

After his morning visit to the Nobel Peace Institute, Obama met with Prime Minister Jens Stoltenberg, who hardly needed the popularity boost, having just been re-elected, but who was doubtless grateful for it all the same. He set out a to-do list for the US president, beginning with a strong political agreement in Copenhagen.

That established one theme for the day: telling Obama how to do his job. At the press conference afterwards, a Norwegian journalist set the other: the search for justifications for his prize. What were the president's own views on it? Obama was asked. He replied by defusing the question with a one-liner: "The goal is not to win a popularity contest." That was the easy base covered, but the one American journalist then also granted a question went straight for the jugular: "Will the July 2011 date be when US troops actually withdraw [from Afghanistan]?" It would, Obama acknowledged, be just the beginning. He was doubtless relieved that the day's tight schedule would leave no time for follow-up questions.

The proddings and calls for justifications followed Obama over in the early afternoon to City Hall, where he was to give his Nobel Lecture, the prizewinner's address. Introducing Obama, the chairman of the Nobel Committee, Thorbjørn Jagland, gave his own, highly self-conscious defence of the committee's decision to award the prize to the US president, as well as a running commentary on the sort of world they would like to see him help create.

When Albert Luthuli received his prize in 1961, Obama was told, the struggle against apartheid was in its infancy; when Martin Luther King received his in 1964, the struggle for civil rights in America was also far from over. And as the committee has constantly been pointing out since making the award, Obama's prize, much more so than theirs, is intended to be "a call to action".

Some might, of course, say that all this is merely wishful thinking, and that their hopes of handing Obama a set of golden handcuffs at the same time as the Nobel gold medal are misplaced, misguided even. But as the words of Obama's own speech echoed literally right around the city this afternoon -- broadcast as they were from a large screen outside the City Hall -- he seemed to win a good few people to their cause.

In any case, "A Call to Action" is a phrase the Norwegians will keep hearing over the next year, it also being the title of the Obama exhibition that will run until December at the Nobel Peace Centre. Whether it is a phrase that still rings in the man's own ears in six months, let alone a year's time, remains to be seen.

With luck, he might still remember it next week at least, when he flies back this way to Copenhagen. But my guess is that he will not. After an afternoon spent tying himself in knots over the mirage of "just wars", and paying lip service -- however eloquent that lip service may have been -- to the much harder task of rebuilding the livelihoods of those in whose country he currently commands an army, it seems that Obama will not himself be making the shift from the probable to the possible any time soon.

 

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Would the BBC's Nazi drama SS-GB have felt half so resonant a year ago?

This alternate history is freighted with meaning now we're facing the wurst-case scenario. 

Would SS-GB have felt half so resonant a year ago? Though the clever-after-the-fact Nostradamus types out there might disagree, I can’t believe that it would. When it comes to the Second World War, after all, the present has helpfully stepped in where memory is just beginning to leave off. The EU, in the process of fragmenting, is now more than ever powerless to act in the matter of rogue states, even among its own membership. In case you hadn’t noticed, Hungary, for instance, is already operating as a kind of proto-fascist state, led by Viktor Orbán, a man whom Jean-Claude Juncker, the president of the European Commission, jokingly likes to call “the dictator” – and where it goes, doubtless others will soon follow.

The series (Sundays, 9pm), adapted from Len Deighton’s novel, is set in 1941 in a Britain under Nazi occupation; Winston Churchill has been executed and the resistance is struggling to hold on to its last strongholds in the countryside. Sam Riley plays Douglas Archer, a detective at Scotland Yard, now under the control of the SS, and a character who appears in almost every scene. Riley has, for an actor, a somewhat unexpressive face, beautiful but unreadable. Here, however, his downturned mouth and impassive cheekbones are perfect: Archer, after all, operates (by which I mean, barely operates) in a world in which no one wants to give their true feelings away, whether to their landlady, their lover, or their boss, newly arrived from Himmler’s office and as Protestant as all hell (he hasn’t used the word “degenerate” yet, but he will, he will).

Archer is, of course, an ambiguous figure, neither (at present) a member of the resistance nor (we gather) a fully committed collaborator. He is – or so he tells himself – merely doing his job, biding his time until those braver or more foolhardy do something to restore the old order. Widowed, he has a small boy to bring up. Yet how long he can inhabit this dubious middle ground remains to be seen. Oskar Huth (Lars Eidinger), the new boss, is keen to finish off the resistance; the resistance, in turn, is determined to persuade Archer to join its cause.

It’s hard to find fault with the series; for the next month, I am going to look forward to Sunday nights mightily. I would, I suppose, have hoped for a slightly more charismatic actress than Kate Bosworth to play Barbara Barga, the American journalist who may or may not be involved with the British resistance. But everything else seems pretty perfect to me. London looks suitably dirty and its inhabitants’ meals suitably exiguous. Happiness is an extra egg for tea, smoking is practically a profession, and
the likes of Archer wear thick, white vests.

Swastikas adorn everything from the Palace of Westminster to Trafalgar Square, Buckingham Palace is half ruined, a memorial to what the Germans regard as Churchill’s folly, and the CGI is good enough for the sight of all these things to induce your heart to ache briefly. Nazi brutality is depicted here as almost quotidian – and doubtless it once was to some. Huth’s determination to have four new telephone lines installed in his office within the hour is at one end of this horrible ordinariness. At the other is the box in which Archer’s mutinous secretary Sylvia (Maeve Dermody) furiously stubs out her fag, full to the brim with yellow stars.

When I first heard about The Kettering Incident (Tuesdays, 12.20am; repeated Wednesdays, 10pm) I thought someone must have found out about that thing that happened one time I was driving north on the M1 with a more-than-usually terrible hangover. Turns out it’s a new Australian drama, which comes to us on Sky Atlantic. Anna (Elizabeth Debicki), a doctor working in London, pitches up back in Tasmania many years after her teenage friend Gillian disappeared into its Kettering forest, having seen a load of mysterious bright lights. Was Gillian abducted by aliens or was she, as some local people believe, murdered by Anna? To be honest, she could be working as a roadie for Kylie, for all I care. This ponderous, derivative show is what happens when a writer sacrifices character on the altar of plot. The more the plot thickens, the more jaw-achingly tedious it becomes.

Rachel Cooke trained as a reporter on The Sunday Times. She is now a writer at The Observer. In the 2006 British Press Awards, she was named Interviewer of the Year.

This article first appeared in the 24 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The world after Brexit