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”You die twice when your name is mentioned for the last time, ” is a saying that I recently stumbled across.  This profound reflection on mortality and legacy has me becoming aware of a certain privilege invested in me. 

Having lived for the better part of a hundred years there are of course a large number of people in my acquaintance who are no longer with us, including some who have been dead for many years. My memory of most of these has gradually disappeared into the mist of time, leaving but an outstanding few.  Outstanding as in remarkable, no matter the reason.  Needless to say I am not inclined to speak badly of the dead and leave the assignment of prolonging the immortality of a person responsible for a negative impact on my life to someone with better things to say. 

Nor do I see the need to highlight those with a legacy beyond anything that I could meaningfully contribute to. My father Jürgen would be an example of this, his celebrity status as a German film director/actor  forever enshrined on the internet not to mention his place in the annals of the family`  s history dating back to the 12th Century.

In an earlier text I made mention of my primary school teacher at Abel Smith Primary School in Hertford, Mrs. Ramage and I think I should add Mr. Mileham, a teacher at Crawley College of Further Education both of whom sowed the seeds of lifelong inspiration. Mr. Mileham at one point even suggested I apply to Oxford. To this day I am flattered but a little unsure if that was not just a little over the top.

Undoubtedly two of the most influential people in my early years were my maternal grandparents, Alfred Sagebiel and his wife Elisabeth, née Hausmann.  Opa, being his title since 1947 was a retired inspector of taxes who had served as a quartemaster in the Imperial German Army of the first world war and Oma was a housewife.  Between them they offered me the heritage I would otherwise have been deprived of, in the form of a loving home during my summer holidays.  Exclusively German in language and tradition with a distinct penultimate generational bias.  I am their only grandchild and with no other contemporary relatives still alive,  the only person left to ensure they do not die twice, at least for now.

Question: ”When is an ass not an ass?”  Answer: ”When its an arse.”

In the English speaking world arse and ass are both used to describe a mammal’ s posterior or at times figuratively speaking, the rear end of an object. Either one is also widely used as a derogatory term for someone considered stupid, despicable or simply evil.  Prefixed with the word stupid or some other suitable adjective both for emphasis and clarity and the meaning hones in to underline just that. 

There is of course a difference between calling a person ”a stupid ass” or ”a stupid arse”  and as such easily identified by the way they are pronounced differently, in British English that is. The former is a kinder, more forgiving expression for someone acting like a donkey which is in fact what an ass is. The latter is cruder and a lot less polite with its reference to the buttocks.

I suspect there is little distinction between arse and ass in spoken American English even when it comes to the usage of  their somewhat more offensive cousins, asshole or its British equivalent arsehole;  thus tarring evil and stupid with the same brush.

Undoubtedly the world has a large number of ass-arseholes but British English has the grace to separate the stupid asses from the evil arses.

Enough of American politics for now.

When I first moved to Sweden and for roughly a year or so I found myself more or less cut off from ”the latest news.”  My Swedish, although improving daily and despite everyone wanting to speak English with me, was a long way from being TV or radio news adequate. In order to avoid total media isolation I therefore arranged for a weekly collection of The Daily Telegraph to be sent to me. This arrangement would nowadays be considered more akin to catching up on history rather than news. No smart phones, no Ipads, no computers, no internet, no Facebook, no emails, no SMS messages, no WhatsApp, no Instagram etc, etc. The one telephone I used at home was connected to the wall by a not very long cable. For my grandchildren`  s   generation the above must come across as an unthinkable nightmare. All in all I might agree that much has changed for the better since the days of my youth although I wouldn` t subscribe to the nightmare sentiment.

Progress always involves change which is not necessarily the case the other way around, although even progress has its thorns.

The world has shrunk, we are closer to one another than ever before. Newspaper headlines have been upstaged by the internet and social media where on occasion the timelapse between event and report is so minute that we as bystanders become part of the event wherever that event may have occured or however horrific. Today`  s young people do not share the snail mail innocence of my youth. They are subjected to the brutal realities of life on their smartphones as the traditional filters of yesteryear in the form of parents, school teachers and main stream media are left on the sidelines.

”It will all be over soon,” might be deemed as a suitable message for a doomsday proponent` s sandwich board indicating that the world is coming to end.  Much like the tourist attraction at Speaker` s  Corner with similar messages of doom, far from being taken seriously, are more often inclined to make us laugh.

This is inherently unfair as everything has a best before date whichever way you spin it.  Gloomy and purposefully vague predictions are however much like a ghost train at a funfair, underwhelming.  ”It will all be over soon,” tells us nothing that we don’ t already know.

Soon in its temporal sense is relative to its context and is as definite as nailing a jelly to a wall, the actual time span being very much dependent on the all being referred to as well as the surrounding circumstances.  Soon  is an unreliable indicator of time covering a range of possibilities from in a few seconds to somewhere in between a few seconds and eternity.

As far as all is concerned it is easily defined as consisting of several different parts, from molecules to galaxies.  Take your pick, they are all coming to an end each according to its own timeline. Rather more interesting however is not what is coming to an end but what is coming in its stead.

From that angle, ”it will all be over soon,” reveals itself as a metaphor for change and with it the hope for a better future.

The ”great unwashed” is a derogatory term for the working class which I have not heard since spoken in jest during my teenage years. In 2016, in a barely concealed swipe at working class voters Hilary Clinton used the word  ”deplorables” to describe a segment of Trump supporters, suggesting a variety of unsavoury traits including racism, sexism and xenophobia. It goes without saying that these values or should I say lack of are not soley an affliction of the lesser educated or those considered lacking in social refinement. However an analysis of the Brexit referendum and the U.S. Presidential election highlighted that at least two of the above were a driving force together with the observation that education level played a significant role in the casting of votes. Stigmatizing a large group of the electorate is rarely a good move, as Hilary Clinton later admitted, losing her votes as well as helping Trump in his campaign to be seen as the champion of the downtrodden and preparing to drain the swamp.

The very essence of a democracy is the freedom of political thought, however uncomfortable that thought may be, together with a system of checks and balances ensuring things do not go off the rails. The unifying force of the founding fathers and the U.S. constitution have been usurped by Trump in what might best be described as a show of political smoke and mirrors. So much so that anti-Trump demonstrators are now invoking the ”no king,” sentiment of the Boston tea party. Ironically enough the descendant of that same king has little other than ceremonial powers to which however an immense historical heritage must be added, serving to unite a people across the political spectrum, and leaving no room for the likes of Trump. Time perhaps for the prodigal son to come home? 

When 520 million Europeans have to ask 350 million Americans to protect them from 145 million Russians you know there is something wrong. Add each country` s GDP to the above and the situation becomes mind-boggling on the verge of incredulity. 

Unfortunately it is far from unbelievable and has been a political/military axiom since the end of WWll. Since then former US ally Russia has been the enemy, with the ensuing cold war almost boiling over at the Cuban crisis and then once again settling down until Putin` s arrival on the scene. 

What shouldn` t be forgotten in the above numbers game is that there was no such thing as a ”voice of Europe” after the second world war, only a number of war torn countries all smaller than Russia and very much dependent on the US.

 Burgeoning European cooperation, the foundation of which was the Coal and Steel Union formally established in 1951, was entirely focused on economy as the preventer of war and could be described as: ”if you want peace prepare for peace,” rather than the ancient Roman dictum,  ”si vis pacem para bellum,” which all things considered might have been a more succesfull approach vis a vis a neo-imperialist Russia.

Well, things all worked out ”hunky-dorey” for a while with Europe sleep- walking into a new age only to be brutally woken up much like a friend of mine who went sleep-walking on a cruise ship only to wake up in the reception area clad only in a pair of undershorts.

Waking up to an extremely volatile and dangerous world with men like Putin and Trump upsetting one apple-cart after another with impunity. Threats from an enemy in the East and threats from a friend in the West has Europe now hurriedly looking for more than just a pair of trousers. Considering the hitherto slow pace of things there is a certain irony in Trump being the catalyser for the further political as well as military integration of the EU he so obviously despises.

In my younger, Saturday morning matinee days, cowboy films would sometimes feature a snake oil salesman selling his proclaimed miracle potion from the back of a covered wagon. Often depicted as a rather amusing character with unmistakably sinister undertones. Undertones which were, at the time, more or less wasted on my still to be honed analytical skills. Nowadays I like to think the film industry was making a point here into educating people about the importance of thinking twice or perhaps it was just a case of making fun of gullible people´ s ignorance?

Whatever the answer, things haven´ t changed much. Gullible people as well as ignorance are still two a penny. The snake oil salesmen on the other hand have upped their market to now include grievance, distrust, xenophobia, envy, intolerance, resentfullness you name it, aimed at a larger section of the population. No smoke without fire when it comes to the above unfortunately. The root causes thereof and the complicated strategies required to combat these, make things easy for our modern day snake oil salesmen who just like their predecessors always seem to have a simple solution to the most complex of problems. Funnelling hate towards useful scapegoats like immigrants might be considered as product development.The deception is rarely lasting which sadly cannot be said of the damage done. What people don´ t see to begin with will eventually result in their noses being shoved in it.

The US is on an autocratic roller coaster with the black hole of fascism waiting at the end of the ride, if brakes are not applied. Whichever way it ends the farewell get-together for the one time leader of the democratic West will have to wait until then. 

Brexit Britain is on life support and an ongoing reset transfusion has a majority hoping for a quick recovery. Brexiters are still trying to flog the same snake oil but it appears people haved twigged the hoax.

Germany, a country that should know better than any other, has so far managed to stave off its own political ghost from the past. Considering the disaster caused by the last snake oil salesman it is mind blowing that anyone in Germany should ever conceive of once again going down that road.

German chancellor to be, Friedrich Merz announced recently that he will be honouring his election campaign pledge and supplying Ukraine with Germany` s blockbuster Taurus missiles. With a striking distance of, ”all the way to Moscow,” Russia` s peace loving politruks are far from amused. Putin` s press secretary Demitry Peskov accused Merz of warmongering and has-been Dimitry Medvedev took time off from threatening Europe with nukes and called him a Nazi and that he` d better watch out. 

Not everybody is in agreement as to what is required to earn a Nazi epithet but there are some undisputed basic skills. Perhaps the best manual on the subject is a history book covering the horrors of world war 2.  

”Never again” was the anguished cry in 1945. ”Never again,” to be actually realized by the strategic thinking of Jean Monet and the birth of a new Europe. 

And it worked or, according to Dimitry and Dimitry, until Merz started threatening Russia with Taurus missiles that is. As if that wasn` t  enough, Germany together with her European allies is supporting a veritable Nazi Ukraine with its Jewish head of state. 

Russian troops on the other hand, in their brave endeavour to ”denazify” Ukraine, are breaching internationally recognized borders, bombing residential areas, kidnapping children and executing prisoners of war. Anybody in their right mind would understand that resisting that kind of behaviour is as Nazi as it gets. 

Make no mistake Dimitri Peskov, not even Russians are fool enough to fall for your spin unless of course they are threatened with a few years in a labour camp. Calling Merz a warmonger is straight out of Goebels playbook. Right down to the part where intelligent and educated people show no qualms in exposing themselves as thoroughly corrupt. 

I have always wondered what the price is for getting someone to accept a place in history as a schmuck?

”Mixed feelings,” maybe a somewhat wishy washy way of describing my reaction to the gigantic upheaval the world is facing right now but it` s  the best I can do. History may possibly have the year 2022, plus an uncertain number of years onwards, on a par with the fall of the Roman Empire no less. Unfortunately I  won’ t be around to study the historical version and must resign myself to seeing things at close hand. 

America has crapped itself. The ”great” generation has moved on,  replaced by the ”price of eggs” generation where some 70 million Americans voted for a man who, in front of a large crowd, mocked a handicapped reporter. Comprehend that and you get the gist of things. If anything the Gulf should have been named Shamerica. Canada is now the enemy and Putin` s Russia, the friend. The heroes of Hollywood have become the fake news of our time. The 7th Cavalry has morphed into a joke.  Wyatt Earp, the Marshall in Tombstone may just as well have come riding in on a donkey and waving a banana. John Wayne will be remembered as Marion Morrison, the fraud. Reagan and his political ilk have become invertebrates. The Statue of Liberty is once again French. ”O say can you see by the dawn’ s early plight….” It is never ending and cheered on by a sycophantic group of greedy oligarchs.  Simply gut wrenching. 

There is nothing ambiguous about  America` s demise on the world stage nor in fact its present antithsesis, the rise of Europe. Brexit woes notwithstanding, the UK clearly demonstrates where home is. That home is now raising its voice in unison against Russian imperialism and its ”lager lout” supporters in the US. A united Europe has long been a dream stymied by regional narrow mindedness. No longer. Our own diverse european neck of the woods has begun to re-draw the line between national diversity and european unity, realizing perhaps that one does not exclude the other.  Hope inspiring.

It never ceases to amaze me when I hear voices lamenting Europe’ s military weakness in contrast to the US and in the face of Russian aggression. Considering the events since February 2022 and the erratic and extremely unreliable behaviour of Europe`s one time saviour and baby-sitter since 1945 there may be reason to go over some of the facts. Not that these facts are in any way hidden from view, just conveniently ignored. Perhaps the most striking is that Ukraine has humiliated Russia on the battlefield and turned an intended three day special military operation into a three year special military and Russian nightmare. Were it not for periodical lack of support including restrictions on the use of that support, Ukraine would have been in a far better position today, possibly even master in its own house again.

Ukraine is at number 20 in the global firepower list with several European countries within the top 20. The less than enthusiastic spending on defence over the years, in favour of other priorities has of course to be considered and rectified.  Suffice it to say there is no lack of money,  as european countries’ GDP rankings indicate, nor the understanding that it has to be done. As the saying goes ”where there is a will there is a way.”  

Europe has little choice and time is running out with the tectonic plates of global politics shifting faster than could have been envisaged a mere month ago. Europe needs to combine its military resources and speak in one voice much as it has done with great success in other matters. Wars are seldom fought on the battlefield alone and a quick glance at Russia´ s GDP reveals it as on a par with Italy.  A determined, independent Europe, united  in its defence policies and prepared to stand up to Russia´ s imperialism by all means necessary, will be the shortest way to a lasting peace.