Beltway Briefing

The top five stories from US politics today.

1. Mitt Romney will travel to Pennsylvania today -- the same as President Barack Obama -- in a clear attempt to cement his position as the frontrunner in the Republican presidential field.

The former Massachusetts governor will attack Obama's economic record, by holding a press conference outside Allentown Metal Works, a closed down factory which Obama visited in 2009 while promoting his stimulus pacakge.

Romney also released a new web video today which contrasts Obama's visit to the plant with local media reports of its closure. It uses his tagline -- borrowed from the Tories in 1979 -- "Obama isn't working".

 

 

Meanwhile, Obama will attend two fundraisers for the Democratic National Committee during his visit. Voters in Pennsylvania appear to be quite equally split on the president -- according to a recent Quinnipiac University poll, 48 per cent approve of his performance as president, while 48 per cent disapprove.

2. Republican voters are not satisfied with any of the current presidential field, if the latest poll by the New York Times/CBS is to be believed. So far, nine candidates have put themselves forward. About 70 per cent of Republican voters said they wished there were more candidates, with only 23 per cent expressing satisfaction with the current field.

Asked to name a presidential candidate they were enthusiastic about, two-thirds of GOP voters said they were not excited by any of them. Mitt Romney and Michele Bachmann fared best, each named by 7 per cent.

However, it is not all bad news for the Republican cohort -- past example indicates that these numbers will increase as the primaries approach. Before the last election, polls showed a similar lack of interest.

3. The former president Bill Clinton shared his thoughts on the current field of GOP candidates -- with the big caveat that he will be "very surprised" if Obama is not re-elected.

Of the former Utah governor Jon Huntsman, he said:

[He] did a very nice, a good job for America as ambassador to China. I think he's quite an impressive man. He's got an impressive family. I had the honor of meeting one of his children once and having a conversation with her. I think that he's refreshingly, kind of, unhide-bound. Just comes across as non-ideological -- conservative, but non-ideological, practical."

He was more reserved in his assessment of former Massachusetts governor Mitt Romney and current frontrunner:

[He] doing a better job as a candidate this time than he did four years ago. [He] comes across as more relaxed and more convicted about what he did do, less willing to just be forced into apologizing for it because it violates some part of his party orthodoxy.

And he said that the early success of Michele Bachmann, Minnesota Representative, he said:

I've been watching her speak at some of these conventions on ESPN, you know, she comes across as a real person. ... The story that they tell is pretty compelling, all those foster children she's taken in, and children she's raised and the work she's done.

4. Herman Cain's latest campaign video appears to owe more than a little something to the Fox News school of thought. As one blogger puts it: "this video proves beyond ANY doubt Obama is a Leftist Marxist".

 

5. There is no rest for the wicked. Senator Harry Reid announced today that the Senate will sacrifice its scheduled week long break for the week of 4 July so that it can continue work on cutting the deficit. "It is often said that with liberty comes responsibility," said Reid, Democratic Senator of Nevada. "We should take responsibility seriously. I'm confident we do. That's why the Senate will reconvene on Tuesday, the day after the Fourth. We'll do that because we have work to do."

This follows calls by Republicans yesterday to postpone the recess. Republicans and the Democrats are trying to reach a deal on raising the government's current $14.3 trillion debt ceiling by the start of August.

 

Samira Shackle is a freelance journalist, who tweets @samirashackle. She was formerly a staff writer for the New Statesman.

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Lost in translation: what we lose when we leave the EU

From learning Irish to studying in Switzerland, my richest memories are all in Europe. What will happen to our creative culture after Brexit?

I’m rubbish at languages. Worse than rubbish, actually; hopeless. (You can ask my old German teacher, if you like. Sorry Frau Sarcher.) I don’t have the ear for inflection or the memory for grammar. I don’t have the patience for diligent vocab lists. I can barely spell in English, let alone in French.

So it was with some trepidation that I headed to West Donegal a few weeks ago to do an immersion course in Irish. I know: Irish, of all things, a language which is famed for sounding entirely unlike how it looks on the page and is spoken only by a small number of people, almost all of them in places I don’t live.

Well, I had to do it: I’m working on a novelist for my PhD who wrote in the language. But alright, fine, I also wanted to – wanted to at least grasp at the bones of the thing, even if I’d never be fluent.

I moved around a lot as a child, although always within the UK, and like a lot of people I know I never really had a proper and precise sense of origin. (Irish classes, replete with diaspora, handled this one fast: I am from here; now I live here.) I’m happy in most places, yet no geography has the ring of home. Yes, I’m undeniably English, but I always felt like I was looking at my own Englishness through glass.

I’m aware this might be the most English thing of all.

After my BA, I was awarded a grant to do research in Switzerland, and after that given a grant to do an MA, and everything changed. Suddenly, I was travelling across the continent, able to afford solo trips on the Eurostar to Paris and long months in a sticky Swiss summer, sending photos of the suspiciously clear rivers and cuckoo clocks back to England. In my early 20s, this became my home: always feeling slightly out of place, as ever, but willingly and joyfully so, stumbling through language after language. A whole world of pleasant unfamiliarity opened up on the continent.

A Swiss professor I met said that the very impossibility of translation is its greatest gift, because it reveals native quirks. I’m not sure I fully became a person until I started translating myself in those European summers – until I had to give an account of myself, as an English woman and as a person, out there in the world. Which is why, this morning, I found myself close to tears on the Tube.

I’m no more informed than you are as to why exactly Leave had such a good result. It might have been the headlines, or the promises of NHS funding, or simply long, dulled anger finding an outlet, however counter-intuitive.

But it was undoubtedly something else, too: an opportunity to wield power.

Feeling part of a movement is a seductive thing. This was a campaign entirely run in the negative, by both sides. I mean that in the most literal sense: not that there was no “positive” option, but that there was no option that offered a yes in relation to Europe – only a no more, thanks or a continuation of the same. Remain had no chance of promising us more. Leave, at least, could try, and even if it didn’t quite all ring true, it still offered action over inaction.

Getting ready for work this morning, I couldn’t get the words of sociologist and broadcaster Laurie Taylor out of my head. A few years ago, I went to a lecture he gave on popular culture, and saw him tell an audience of academics what he knew from growing up in Liverpool, and from watching the Dockers’ Strike: that turkeys will vote for Christmas if there’s a chance to stick two fingers up at the middle class while they do it.

That’s trite, perhaps, but less trite than pretending voters necessarily bought every promise from Leave. True, not everyone knew the ins and outs of trade negotiations, but most people were able to twig that Boris Johnson isn’t exactly a working class hero. As tends to be the case, there’s very little to be gained from calling the electorate stupid.

If the same communities that voted Leave are also those likely to be hit the hardest by a Brexit-induced economic downturn, they are also those who might reasonably have wondered: what have we got to lose?

Well, who knows. I’ll speak responsibly and say that I’m worried about EU funding to Cornwall (whose council is already scrabbling to secure a promise for alternative funds, after the population there voted Leave); about the medium-term prospects for the UK markets; about how we will handle cross-border security initiatives both in these isles and across the continent. I’m worried because I know where the money came from to regenerate Northern cities, and it wasn’t a Conservative government.

But I’ll also speak with feeling and say that something less tangible has been eroded. British culture is watchful and insecure, sarcastic and subtle; it has a class system awkwardly incomprehensible to outsiders and a sense of humour loved for being the same.

And the thing that makes it all beautiful, the Midas touch that takes the British bundle of neuroses and double-edged banter and endless, endless griping about the weather and turns it to gold, is openness – however grudgingly given. I won’t pretend we ever enjoyed a Halcyon age where we welcomed immigrants whole-heartedly. It would be an insult to history and those who fought to come here. But we are a mongrel country, in spite of our intentions, and most people, most of the time, cope. It is at the moments where we shrug and decide we’re not too fussed about difference, actually, that we shine most strongly.

Over and above the economy, even over the personal fear I have for European friends and lovers of friends and parents of friends, I worry about the loss of culture we may have triggered by choosing this course; what a Keynesian might call the “negative output gap” of creativity. We won’t ever be able to know precisely how much talent and creative joy we’ve effectively just told to fuck off, because you can’t measure pop songs or novels or new dishes like you can expenditure.

But that doesn’t mean that right now, across the country, hundreds of small stories forged from difference aren’t being foreclosed. A hundred little acts of friendship, or love; a hundred chances to look at Britishness through someone else’s eyes. The essential richness of being forced to translate ourselves, and receive others’ translations in turn, is being lost from our future. And our culture will undoubtedly be a little the worse for it.

Stephanie Boland is digital assistant at the New Statesman. She tweets at @stephanieboland