Don't mention the war

By Roger Franklin

When Bill Clinton and Secretary of State Madeleine Albright bring all the fuss and flunkies of America's imperial presidency to Auckland next week, the public talk will be of trade, cooperation and praise for Asia's growing economic resurgence. But behind the smile, it is a sure bet Clinton will be rejoicing in the first-hand knowledge of just how much difference 12 months can make.

Even with the thorny issue of America's action against New Zealand lamb imports, this president is preparing for what his handlers believe will be something of a cakewalk - an opportunity to round up the usual suspect cliches about international co-operation and salt them with photo opportunities for the benefit of the travelling American press horde.

Indeed, Clinton appears so relaxed about the upcoming visit that an aide quipped last week he may even pack his golf clubs on Air Force One.

All in all, a rather different picture from the mess in which he found himself late last year.

It was close on 12 months ago that the pugnaciously unrepentant President went before the American people to utter his famously unapologetic "apology" for the fling with Monica Lewinsky.

Wife Hillary was talking to him only in expletives and daughter Chelsea, if you can believe the gossip pages, was regularly checking herself into the emergency room with stress-related stomach problems inspired by her father's misadventures.

On Capitol Hill, overly confident Republicans were blazing the trail that would lead to only the second presidential impeachment in the country's history. Even Clinton's own Democrats were muttering about how, if there were any more stained dresses and soggy cigars, they might have to send a delegation to the White House with a request for the President's immediate resignation.

In Iraq, Saddam Hussein was growing cheeky once again, thwarting the United Nations' weapons inspectors in an escalating game of brinkmanship inspired by his perception that Clinton had been rendered impotent - no pun intended - amid the endless round of scandals.

And then, when Clinton cancelled his scheduled appearance at last November's Apec parley in Malaysia to supervise what turned out to be two aborted air strikes on Baghdad, Vice President Al Gore was dispatched in his place.

Even with her tummy troubles, Chelsea might have made a more diplomatic envoy.

When the hapless Gore had finished extolling democracy as the key to Asia's future, Malaysia's incensed foreign minister Abdullah Badawi accused the US of "gross interference" in his country's internal affairs.

Even Australia's mild mannered John Howard was appalled.

"You don't necessarily achieve desirable outcomes by constantly hectoring other nations in order to change the way they run their lives," sniffed the Australian leader.

This time, with the scandals fading and Republicans fighting among themselves for the 2000 presidential nomination, the White House is exuberantly cheerful - albeit with a brand of bland ebullience that might have been lifted directly from a Yes, Minister script.

"We are looking forward to an Apec summit that celebrates the progress Asian economies have made, and to strengthening the bonds of co-operation that are the basis of enhanced prosperity and opportunity," recited David Levy, a spokesman for the President's National Security Council.

"The president will be bringing a message about the importance of free trade to the continued growth of the world's economies, and drawing upon this nation's experience with removing trade barriers as the model for global prosperity."

Just don't mention lamb chops - or hypocrisy. It might spoil the President's fun.

In conversations with officials who are planning Clinton's New Zealand jaunt, it soon became obvious that the administration has all its functionaries reading from the same script.

"As far as the administration is concerned, the lamb issue is a non-issue at this stage," advised a State Department source. "The actions taken in regard to complaints by America's lamb producers have been acted upon and the view is that the process has now moved beyond Mr. Clinton's involvement."

Back at the NSC, they were singing the same tune. "The Australian and New Zealand governments are well aware of the president's actions and the reasons for them. We understand those governments are proceeding with appealing that decision to the World Trade Organisation, which is their prerogative," Levy explained, adding that nothing would be gained at the summit by labouring what he described as "a settled issue."

Said another official: "The issue is in the hands of the WTO, so there would be no point in bothering the president. Of course, if New Zealand and Australia feel compelled to so, then so be it. But there are better, more productive subjects we would prefer to talk about."

So if President Clinton is unable - rather than simply unwilling - to address lamb imports, what can be expected of him? Not much, perhaps, apart from a first-rate spectacle.

The sight of a US President on the road is an awesome sight to behold.

Although preparations are far from complete - another reflection of the administration's laid-back approach to this particular trip - Auckland can expect to see Air Force One and at least one other jumbo for the press corps.

There will also be a military transport plane, maybe even two of them, with the armoured First Limo, a decoy limo to distract potential bomb chuckers, and a funeral procession's worth of black-windowed four-wheel-drives to cart the praetorian guard of Secret Servicemen from one appearance to the next.

Auckland drivers can expect traffic chaos, particularly with all the other leaders and Albright buzzing about town in their own motorcades.

Even by himself, however, Clinton is an infuriating road hog. Whenever he jets into New York for one his fund-raising appearances, which he seems to do at least twice a month, the city grinds to a gridlocked standstill.

Only two weeks ago, at the height of the Big Apple's evening rush hour, all of Sixth Avenue was closed to traffic so Clinton's 18-car entourage could zip from one reception to the next.

Parked cars were towed by the hundreds from the route in case they contained radio-activated bombs that might have been detonated as the president passed by. Even manhole covers were welded shut to stop snipers springing from the sewers and opening fire.

The only consolation for Auckland's chagrined motorists will be that Mrs Clinton, who is trying to win a Senate seat in New York, will not be tagging along.

No wonder the president seems to regard the Apec summit as something of a vacation!