A view on Syria from the US: Obama's enemies scent blood

How did Obama find himself in such a rococo mess, pinned between haters in the House and his KGB rival?

Barely a week ago, when Barack Obama asked Congress to approve the degradation of Bashar al-Assad’s poison gas stocks, he became the hostage of obstructionist Tea Party members hell-bent on his downfall and of his own pacifist base, incapable of voting for war. The vote in Congress was heading for certain defeat. In an effort to rescue his rash gambit, Obama toured the talk shows and was billed to address the nation on television. What could he possibly say to turn back the tidal wave against war?
 
Enter the least likely character to save the US president from embarrassment, Vladimir Putin. A stray or perhaps not so stray remark by Secretary of State John Kerry that Syria could avoid attack if it surrendered its poisongas arsenal triggered a hectic Russian initiative to oblige Assad to do just that. Obama’s broadcast, a forlorn last chance to persuade Americans to live up to their responsibilities, turned out a damp squib: another passionless plea for military action, a delay to the congressional vote, and the granting of time for the Russians to strong-arm Syria.
 
In terms of high drama, no complaints so far. But how did Obama find himself adrift in such a rococo mess, pinned between haters in the House and his KGB rival? When it comes to big gestures it is best to ask questions only if you know the answer. When Obama invited Congress to share in the decision to bomb Syria, he must have known the House would oppose him. Not since he appeared vacant and distracted during his first presidential election debate with Mitt Romney has his judgement caused such consternation and despair among Democrats. What could he have been thinking?
 
The appeal to Congress remains a gamble. Until the Russian deal has run its course and Congress has, or perhaps has not, been asked to endorse military action, the presidency remains in severe jeopardy. A defeat in Congress would amount to a personal vote of no confidence on perhaps the most important decision any president can make: when to act to defend the nation’s safety. In his 10 September address Obama repeated that failure to act in Syria would lead to a proliferation of poison-gas attacks that put US national security directly at risk. As commander-in-chief, he does not need congressional consent to act in such circumstances, so the wonder is he has not already fired the cruise missiles. Which is what most of his allies wish he had done at the beginning of this month.
 
Instead, Obama chose the stony path. Some of his reasoning appears to be constitutional: he believes that the executive has too often ignored the legislature when making decisions about war and he, a Harvard constitutional law scholar, felt obliged to go through the niceties, whatever the risk of failure. Part of the reason, too, was the pivotal stance he took against the Iraq war that set him apart from Hillary Clinton in the 2008 primary debates. He believes Congress should play a key role in going to war.
 
There was, however, a recklessness about throwing the vote to Congress, which, since he lost the House in the midterm elections of 2010, has hampered him at every turn. The president has long lectured recalcitrant members of the House on playing chicken with America’s financial prestige – in order to keep America solvent by lifting the debt ceiling and by passing taxes to fund public spending. The vote for war is a similar test. Would Republicans risk harming America’s international reputation to satisfy their visceral dislike of him? Obama must have concluded that they wouldn’t dare, which is a bet few others would make.
 
By inviting the vote, Obama placed his tormentors in a torment of their own. Lawmakers have not thanked Obama for asking them to share the Syria decision. Americans are suffering war fatigue and the thought of another attack, however surgical, is unpopular in red and blue states alike. Being forced out into the open when opinion is so strongly against war is uncomfortable for a congressman. Best for those hoping to avoid an awkward primary to dodge the issue rather than be seen defying the will of the people.
 
For a couple of days Congress wriggled on the hook. In the Republican Party, mutating from a conservative to a libertarian movement, fiscal hawks now outnumber defence hawks. The old-school neocons and centrists such as John McCain and Lindsey Graham, who have ruled the roost on defence matters for the past decade and are backing the president, have been reduced to a handful. Many Republicans who had happily backed the unnecessary Iraq war are scrambling to find reasons to deny Obama the sanction to bomb Syria. For the sake of their president, Obama Democrats who opposed Iraq from the start are struggling to smother their pacifism and back another war.
 
Obama’s gamble has thrown everything in the air, but at enormous risk to his future authority. When a president finds his fate lies in the hands of the Tea Party and of Putin, he is in trouble. He faces opposition from a majority in the House of Representatives, almost half the Senate, and four out of every five Americans. His broadcast on Tuesday will not have changed minds. Like members of Congress who grabbed the Russian deal to save face, Obama must now hope that Putin can force Assad to keep his word.
 
The alternative for Obama is horrible. A failed Russian deal would reinstate the vote in the House and the Senate. If Congress rejects the measure, Obama will be profoundly weakened at home and in the eyes of the world – unless he bombs Syria anyway. The president might justify such an action by saying that Congress was asked to be wise and was found wanting.
 
Congress may reply that for a president to contradict a clear message from Congress is an impeachable offence. 
Hack or hostage? By mistiming and misdirecting the decision on a response to use of chemical weapons, Obama has put himself at the mercy of Putin.

Nicholas Wapshott’s Keynes Hayek: the Clash That Defined Modern Economics is published by W W Norton (£12.99)

This article first appeared in the 16 September 2013 issue of the New Statesman, Syria: The deadly stalemate

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A swimming pool and a bleeding toe put my medical competency in doubt

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Sometimes the search engine wins. 

The brutal heatwave affecting southern Europe this summer has become known among locals as “Lucifer”. Having just returned from Italy, I fully understand the nickname. An early excursion caused the beginnings of sunstroke, so we abandoned plans to explore the cultural heritage of the Amalfi region and strayed no further than five metres from the hotel pool for the rest of the week.

The children were delighted, particularly my 12-year-old stepdaughter, Gracie, who proceeded to spend hours at a time playing in the water. Towelling herself after one long session, she noticed something odd.

“What’s happened there?” she asked, holding her foot aloft in front of my face.

I inspected the proffered appendage: on the underside of her big toe was an oblong area of glistening red flesh that looked like a chunk of raw steak.

“Did you injure it?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”

I shrugged and said she must have grazed it. She wasn’t convinced, pointing out that she would remember if she had done that. She has great faith in plasters, though, and once it was dressed she forgot all about it. I dismissed it, too, assuming it was one of those things.

By the end of the next day, the pulp on the underside of all of her toes looked the same. As the doctor in the family, I felt under some pressure to come up with an explanation. I made up something about burns from the hot paving slabs around the pool. Gracie didn’t say as much, but her look suggested a dawning scepticism over my claims to hold a medical degree.

The next day, Gracie and her new-found holiday playmate, Eve, abruptly terminated a marathon piggy-in-the-middle session in the pool with Eve’s dad. “Our feet are bleeding,” they announced, somewhat incredulously. Sure enough, bright-red blood was flowing, apparently painlessly, from the bottoms of their big toes.

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Often, what patients discover on the internet causes them undue alarm, and our role is to provide context and reassurance. But not infrequently, people come across information that outstrips our knowledge. On my return from our room with fresh supplies of plasters, my wife looked up from her sun lounger with an air of quiet amusement.

“It’s called ‘pool toe’,” she said, handing me her iPhone. The page she had tracked down described the girls’ situation exactly: friction burns, most commonly seen in children, caused by repetitive hopping about on the abrasive floors of swimming pools. Doctors practising in hot countries must see it all the time. I doubt it presents often to British GPs.

I remained puzzled about the lack of pain. The injuries looked bad, but neither Gracie nor Eve was particularly bothered. Here the internet drew a blank, but I suspect it has to do with the “pruning” of our skin that we’re all familiar with after a soak in the bath. This only occurs over the pulps of our fingers and toes. It was once thought to be caused by water diffusing into skin cells, making them swell, but the truth is far more fascinating.

The wrinkling is an active process, triggered by immersion, in which the blood supply to the pulp regions is switched off, causing the skin there to shrink and pucker. This creates the biological equivalent of tyre treads on our fingers and toes and markedly improves our grip – of great evolutionary advantage when grasping slippery fish in a river, or if trying to maintain balance on slick wet rocks.

The flip side of this is much greater friction, leading to abrasion of the skin through repeated micro-trauma. And the lack of blood flow causes nerves to shut down, depriving us of the pain that would otherwise alert us to the ongoing tissue damage. An adaptation that helped our ancestors hunt in rivers proves considerably less use on a modern summer holiday.

I may not have seen much of the local heritage, but the trip to Italy taught me something new all the same. 

This article first appeared in the 17 August 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump goes nuclear