f British Prime Minister Tony Blair had not been vacationing in the Caribbean yesterday, it seems a safe bet he would have announced to the world that Britain feels deep sympathy for its freshly wounded ally, the United States.
He might have been wrong.
In fact, to judge by the reaction of some Londoners yesterday to Katrina's rising death toll, Britons seem to feel the United States is overdrawn on sympathy.
In an online discussion group set up by The Guardian newspaper, for example, one man sneered that George W. Bush will "blame global warming, or 'ecological terrorism' for this extreme weather event." Another said the disaster will be all the worse because the National Guard, which so often helps in relief operations, "is in Iraq to provide for the comfort of U.S. occupation forces."
And there was much snickering over which wing nut televangelist will attribute the devastation of New Orleans to Genesis 6:13, in which God, about to flood the sinful Earth, tells Noah: "The end of all flesh is come before me ... behold, I will destroy them with the Earth."
When bombers struck London's transport system on July 7, Mr. Bush stood respectfully behind Mr. Blair for a news conference at the G8 summit in Scotland. It was a pose that spoke to the special relationship the countries share as fiercely principled allies in an unpopular war.
In the days that followed, the floral tributes that piled up in Tavistock Square and King's Cross came in large part from tourists, especially Americans. The scene was much the same that day at the British embassy in Washington, D.C., where one man carried a sign saying, "Today We Are All British."
And yet yesterday, as London's afternoon tabloids told of 55 dead and counting -- almost exactly the July 7 death toll -- there was not a tribute to be found.
At St. Paul's Cathedral, a meagre stream of tourists passed without stopping through the American Memorial Chapel, leaving votive candles unlit.
Grosvenor Square in tony Mayfair was full of people enjoying a hot August sun, but there were no flowers at the foot of Roosevelt's statue. And at the U.S. embassy, the metal fencing was completely empty of condolence cards.
Not that consular staff invited sympathy. Their flag flew at full staff, and anyone who tried to plant a bouquet would have been challenged by a heavily armed police officer. But it seemed incongruous that such a calamity could pass unnoticed in an allied capital.
One woman who joined the Guardian discussion group struck a conciliatory note for those whose disdain for the war on terror seems to have hardened their hearts. "I lived in America once," she wrote, "and whatever my feelings about the current administration, I have great memories of Americans' kindness and hospitality. We need to pray for, or at least to wish well tonight, the people of Louisiana." |