THIS week, the German parliament elected Angela Merkel as the new chancellor. It is a seminal event. Ms. Merkel is the first female chancellor in Germany’s history; the first leader who spent most of her life under Communist rule; and the first head of a coalition between the two major German parties since 1969. She has taken over a country that has been, in effect, without a government since May, when the outgoing chancellor, Gerhard Schroeder, announced his intention to bring about new elections. Angela Merkel becomes chancellor at a moment of crisis for her country, poised between domestic reform and economic doldrums and social deadlock; between stalemate and new creativity on European integration; and between tradition and the need for new patterns in the Atlantic Alliance.
When I first saw the close election results and the makeup of the Grand Coalition, I feared deadlock. How would a chancellor with disappointing electoral results tame a coalition of parties historically in strident opposition to one another, which had bitterly split on almost all issues in the recent election? How does one lead a government in which cabinet posts are evenly divided between heretofore antagonistic parties? This problem seemed especially acute because several disappointed aspirants to the highest office were within Merkel’s own party and might therefore lack the incentive for a truly collegiate relationship. And the foreign policy issues —especially the disputes with the United States —had become so embedded in German public opinion that significant modifications might prove unfeasible, especially as the new foreign minister is one of the closest associates of the outgoing chancellor.
All this might yet happen. But there is also an alternative prospect to which I am increasingly leaning. Both coalition parties know that if they frustrate each other, the coalition will break up, and each of them would face the dilemmas that obliged them to form the coalition in the first place. When Schroeder attempted marginal reforms, it threatened to split the Social Democratic party. When Merkel offered a sweeping market-oriented alternative, it divided the electorate almost evenly —indeed, with a slight majority for the left if one includes former Communists. Thus a deadlock compounding the crisis might make the dominant parties irrelevant by producing a major electoral shift to currently minor parties or to new ones at the extremes of the political spectrum.
The personality of the new chancellor provides additional hope. It has been fashionable to deprecate Merkel’s apparent charismatic deficit during the electoral campaign. But for the chancellor’s office, the extraordinary achievement of her rise may prove more relevant. Within a decade, she advanced from obscure scientific researcher in Communist East Germany to chancellor without representing a special constituency of her own against opponents in her own party who had devoted a lifetime scrambling up the political ladder. There are many explanations for Merkel’s in retrospect inexorable advance —some of it due perhaps to her adversaries’ competition among each other. But in the end, her single-minded persistence in the pursuit of substantive goals may create its own impetus in the day-to-day business of governance.
Foreign policy is the field where the scope for leadership is greatest. When Germany was unified in 1871, British Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli called it a greater event than the French Revolution. He feared that a power in the centre of Europe stronger than any of its many neighbours would prove difficult to integrate into a European equilibrium. German unification in 1991 implied the same potential challenge that had led to two world wars. Fortunately, two great initiatives of the postwar period —European integration and Atlantic partnership —blunted and absorbed Europe’s national impulses in an overarching framework. Both of these achievements have been strained by the German-American differences of the recent past. Iraq has been the proximate cause and occasional abrupt American actions the trigger. But the real difficulties between Berlin and Washington have gone deeper.
During the Cold War, Europe needed American power for its security. And the trauma of its wartime history produced a moral impulse in Germany to return to the world community as a partner of the US. A sense of a common destiny evolved within which tactical differences could be submerged.
The collapse of the Soviet Union ended Europe’s strategic dependence on the United States; the emergence of a new generation ended Germany’s emotional dependence on American policy. Those who came to maturity in the 1960s and afterward had not experienced the war, the postwar reconstruction, and the forging of allied unity. They increasingly replaced the identification with the United States with a quest for a differentiated European and German identity. Their great emotional political experience has been opposition to the Vietnam War and to the deployment of medium-range missiles in Germany. This dissociation from the United States gradually escalated into massive demonstrations, especially in 1968 and 1982. The so-called ‘68 generation was restrained for a time by the continuing Soviet threat and the opposition of the ‘war generation’ to its views. When the collapse of the Soviet Union coincided with a change of government in Germany, the stage was set for a modification in the tone as well as the substance of allied relationships. A similar shift of generations in the US moved the centre of gravity of American politics to regions less emotionally tied to Europe and less acquainted with it than the leaders from the northeast of the immediate postwar phase.
It is likely that any German chancellor would have been reluctant to join the war in Iraq. But no chancellor or foreign minister not of the ‘68 generation would have based his policy on overt and systematic opposition to the US and conducted two election campaigns on a theme of profound distrust of America’s ultimate motives. Nor would demonstrative joint efforts with France and Russia to thwart American diplomatic efforts at the UN have been likely.
Paradoxically, the fraying of the alliance also weakened European integration. It tempted France to magnify its opposition to the US lest all European disaffections be rallied by a national Germany policy. In the process, Germany and France elaborated a vision of European identity defined by opposition to the United States. On the other hand, the new members of the European Union from Eastern Europe would never reconcile themselves to such a Europe. They still shared the perceptions about America of the immediate postwar generation in Western Europe. When Secretary Donald Rumsfeld contrasted old Europe with new Europe, he was not encouraging a rift but describing it.
Mistakes were made on both sides of the Atlantic. The proclamation by the Bush Administration of a new strategic doctrine of pre-emptive war was one of them. The doctrine was intellectually defensible in light of changed technology, proliferation of weapons of mass destruction, and terrorism. But announcing unilaterally what appeared as a radical change of doctrine ran counter to traditional alliance practice.
In the end, the issue of multilateralism versus unilateralism does not concern procedure but substance. When purposes are parallel, multilateral decision follows nearly automatically. When they diverge, multilateral decision-making turns into an empty shell. The challenge to the Atlantic alliance has been less the abandonment of procedure than the gradual evaporation of a sense of common destiny.
Even before the German elections, there was ample discomfort with this state of affairs on both sides of the Atlantic. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice outlined a new, more consultative approach in American Atlantic diplomacy in February 2005 in a significant speech in Paris. On its part, the German government reciprocated with a more conciliatory approach on a number of important issues. Still, mutual trust was so little restored that, during the election campaign, the outgoing chancellor again based his claim for leadership on his party’s willingness to stand up to the alleged American proclivity for unnecessary wars.
Both sides seem committed to restore a more positive collaboration. In America, the legacy of two generations of Atlanticist foreign policy has persisted despite the tensions of the recent period. In Germany, the Merkel government marks the advent of a third postwar generation: less in thrall to the emotional pro-Americanism of the 1950s and 1960s but neither shaped by the passions of the so-called ‘68 generation. The generational change is especially pronounced in the case of the chancellor. Merkel lived under Communist rule during the controversies of the Cold War. To many in Eastern Europe, the internal Western debates over security seemed like self-indulgence compared to the challenges of life under Communist rule.
In Eastern Europe, on the whole, the Atlantic alliance represented hope, not controversy. Similarly, European integration was significant as a vision for a better future rather than as a device to loosen ties with the US. Merkel understands from personal experience the psychological adjustments unification requires from the East German population, though she refuses to appeal to it in a demagogic manner. In the early days of unification, I asked her what she considered the great psychological challenge for an East German view of foreign policy. She replied: “To learn on vacation to feel as comfortable in France as they now do in Bulgaria.”
With her systematic scientist’s approach, Merkel will avoid choosing between Atlanticism and Europe or confusing sentimental moves toward Russia with grand strategy. Matter-of-fact, serious and thoughtful, she will strive to be a partner for a set of relationships appropriate to the new international order —one that refuses to choose between France and the US but rather establishes a framework embracing both. She will defend her perception of German interests, and the fate of her domestic adversaries shows just how formidable an opponent she can be. But these interests will be defined in terms of a vision of the future rather than the ideological combat of decades past.
The Bush administration has shown every willingness to cooperate. Indeed, one concern is that cooperation may shade into an enthusiasm that overwhelms the dialogue with short-term schemes drawn from the period of strain. The administration needs to take care to restrain its proclivity to conduct consultation as a strenuous exercise in pressing American preferences. Scope needs to be left for the elaboration of a German view of the future. The key challenge before the Atlantic nations is to develop a new sense of common destiny in the age of jihad, the rise of Asia, and the emerging universal problems of poverty, pandemics and energy, among many others.

Social justice will remain relevant
Praful Bidwai

THE people of Bihar have delivered a crushing verdict against the Rashtriya Janata Dal-Congress ruling coalition. The result is unusual for five reasons. First, the vote got sharply polarised just eight months after the last elections. Such changes normally take years. Second, the Janata Dal (United)-Bharatiya Janata Party has won a convincing victory, claiming 60 per cent of Assembly seats. This hasn’t happened in Bihar (or Uttar Pradesh) for a quarter-century. The RJD’s greatest-ever victory (167/324 seats) in 1995 pales beside this. Third, contrary to normal trends involving a high rate of polling, the JD(U) sweep comes on a remarkably low voter turnout —46 per cent, or 17 percentage-points less than the past 15 years’ average. The turnout was depressed by overzealous Election Commission official KJ Rao, who had a dampening effect on OBC, Dalit and Muslim voters.
Fourth, Ram Vilas Paswan’s Lok Janashakti Party shrank because he refused to support either the RJD- or JD(U)-led alliance in forming a government in February/March. Seventyfour per cent of those polled in a Centre for the Study of Developing Societies survey blamed Paswan for this. Four-fifths of all voters (including 63 per cent of LJP supporters) criticised him for insisting that a Muslim should become Chief Minister. This was seen as blatantly opportunistic. Finally, Governor Buta Singh turned many uncommitted voters against the RJD-Congress. He was seen as partisan in rejecting the JD(U)-BJP’s claim to form a government and recommending President’s rule. This was confirmed by a Supreme Court judgment. Singh’s sons also interfered with the running of government.
The United Progressive Alliance committed a blunder in not giving Nitish Kumar a chance to form a government in February/March. He may not have gathered the necessary numbers. But he shouldn’t have been precluded. His government would have been shaky, dysfunctional and potentially unviable. The UPA took a shortcut-and paid for it. Democratic decency pays more in politics than Machiavellian tactics. What social dynamics underlie the Bihar mandate? What do the results signify for Gangetic heartland politics? The verdict is a forceful mandate for ending the 15 year-long rule of Lalu Prasad Yadav and Ms Rabri Devi. The electorate’s growing disappointment with what has been pejoratively called Lalu-Rabri Raj has caused erosion of the RJD’s vote share from 33 per cent in 2000 to 25 in February, and 23.2 per cent now.
Contrary to conventional wisdom, the RJD has never depended upon the Muslim-Yadav (M-Y) vote alone. It was a broad coalition of the poor, which always attracted sizable Dalit and MBC (most backward classes) votes. These have eroded, as did even its M-Y base. This time, the greatest erosion probably happened in the RJD’s MBC votes and those of backward Muslims. A survey in March showed only the Yadavs wanted the RJD back in government. Sixty-four per cent of all voters didn’t, nor did 85 per cent of Kurmis, 63 per cent of Dalits, and 56 per cent of Muslims. Only 13 per cent felt that Lalu-Rabri Raj was good. Thirty-five per cent felt it was “bad all the way” and 37 per cent said it began well, but deteriorated.
The Bihar government became the worst-rated regime among 11 recently polled states. Lalu-Rabri Raj symbolised mis-governance and collapse of public services. The development agenda-which 60 per cent of Biharis identify as most important, compared to 24 per cent in Haryana-took a beating. Corruption became rampant. Public finances worsened. Disorder spread. Lalu’s greatest attraction for the poor lay in giving them ‘a voice’, or dignity and empowerment. Here he concentrated the best features of the politics of “social justice” which dominates Uttar Pradesh and Bihar. He was a great mass-mobiliser. But he never translated “social justice” slogans into policies. By early 2005, defeat stared him in the face. The Congress, with its limited upper caste-based strength, couldn’t reverse this.
Nitish Kumar’s campaign won over significant numbers of MBCs-especially Sahus, Telis, Kewats, Mallahs, etc-and Muslims. He led what might be called a coalition of extremes, its core based on the Kurmis and the upper castes. The Bihar result is emphatically not a victory of the BJP. The party’s ideology wasn’t a factor in the election. The battle was fought along caste and regional lines. What triumphed was the very same politics that Lalu represents, under another leader. Kumar is as deeply rooted in subaltern self-respect politics as Yadav. This derives from the dual phenomenon of OBC and Dalit self-assertion. The result will disappoint those who loathed Lalu precisely because he represented “populist” politics. Nitish Kumar belongs to the same current as Lalu - the Lohia/Karpoori Thakur Socialists. They are both Mandal’s children.

Desertification on the march
Zafar Adeel

To the average person, “desertification” likely conjures up images of sandstorms sweeping across the Sahara. While this is one manifestation, desertification is a global process that persistently reduces the benefits people get from nature — collectively termed “ecosystem services.” This happens as plant cover is destroyed, water resources are over-exploited, soil quality is degraded due to erosion and use of chemicals, and consequently land productivity is irreversibly diminished. Such processes are taking place all over the globe, not just in deserts.
Desertification is driven by an imbalance between human demand and the supply of benefits by natural systems. Population growth, inappropriate policies, and some aspects of globalization drive unsustainable pressure on drylands. Occupying more than 40 percent of the world’s land area, drylands are home to over 2 billion people. Half of all people living in poverty are in drylands. Low water availability in drylands today drives many of the challenges. The current average annual capacity of 1,300 cubic meters per person is already well below the minimum threshold of 2,000.
A new global report developed under the Millennium Ecosystem Assessment (MEA) indicates that growing global desertification in dryland regions threatens the homes and livelihoods of millions of poor. Impacts of desertification are exacerbated by political marginalization of the dryland poor and the slow growth of health and education infrastructures. Desertification in drylands, combined with other social, political and economic problems, takes its toll on the people living there. The MEA report shows that infant mortality in drylands in developing countries averages about 54 children per 1,000 live births, 10 times that of industrial countries. Importantly, this is also twice as high as the infant mortality rate elsewhere in developing countries. Income per capita and statistics for nutrient-deficient populations also show similar disparities.
Unfortunately, impacts of desertification are not limited to drylands. The impacts on the global environment — increasing dust storms, floods and global warming — are well known and documented. According to a recent NASA report, the fine grained particles from African dust storms carry a variety of microbes and menace the health of people in faraway places, like Florida. Even more alarming are the broad impacts of desertification on societies and economies — notably those related to human migration and economic refugees. Migration patterns from North Africa to Europe can be partly attributed to degraded production capacity in the former. Internal displacement away from desertified areas within developing countries also puts hitherto nondesertified areas at a greater risk of productivity loss and causes tensions with the local populace.
The MEA report also provides future outlook based on various development scenarios and trends in ecosystem health today. In all these scenarios, desertification is deemed likely to increase over the next 50 years — along with its devastating global impacts. This also means that we will not be able to meet the Millennium Development Goals, a set of development targets for 2015 set by world leaders in 2000 — unless we do something rather drastic to improve the situation.
While we cannot change the physical and biological parameters of drylands easily, we can reduce human demands and related stress on drylands. A variety of integrated policy options exist to reverse the decline of drylands while optimizing economic output. Chief among these are measures that protect soils from erosion and salinization, and integrated land use management policies that prevent overgrazing, over-exploitation and unsustainable irrigation practices. Creating new and sustainable livelihood options for dryland populations should become part of national strategies for poverty reduction and combating desertification. The unique advantages of drylands — round-the-year available solar energy, attractive landscapes and large wilderness areas — can be utilized in new ways.