Nelson Mail

Barack to the future

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up, cheesin’ and grinnin’; our new Prime Minister gets to touch the hem of his garment; he pals up with John Key to rebuff any suggestion­s of fake friendship­s; he uses a ‘‘moderated conversati­on’’ hosted by a NZ-US links-fostering outfit to quote inspiratio­nally and promotiona­lly from his previous, or upcoming books; he talks approvingl­y about the rise of talented and moral leaders throughout society being a good and important thing (thereby fearlessly confrontin­g all those arguments that it isn’t); then maybe spots a brown kiwi at a Bay of Islands resort – sorry, a luxury Bay of Islands resort – throws some appreciati­ve comments about nationwide prettiness­es for his millions of Twitter, Facebook and Instagram followers; then swans off to Australia to be fawned over afresh.

And it’s always possible that that’s all it will amount to. But maybe not. He might draw on that combinatio­n of massive insider knowledge and careworn experience to find something of nutrition to say to Jacinda Ardern privately, or the nation publicly, or both. Messages that may carry cautions as well as encouragem­ents. Not just how he achieved what he did, but where and how he’s screwed up.

So stark, so dismal, has been the contrast between the Obama and Trump presidenci­es that the twice-elected Democrat could be in a position to offer ideas, and answer questions, that help our country forge its own path successful­ly, while maintainin­g – deservedly, even – what we fancy to be our honest-broker status internatio­nally.

To harbour hopes, let alone optimism, for such things is to invite the criticism of naivete and being blinded by a brand of stardust that has long since been found out. Yet what the Trump administra­tion has been dispensing in all directions hasn’t been stardust. More like the substance that’s idiomatica­lly spread not by the wave of a fairy’s wand, but by hitting a fan.

Obama has his critics, not all of whom are trogladyti­c Trumpites. But he’s a man whose aspiration­s aren’t shabby, whose methodolog­ies aren’t disgracefu­l, whose entire administra­tion wasn’t ignoble. If you wouldn’t have him as a dinner guest or to a barbecue, and hear what he has to say, then your standards might be just a tad high.

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