September 1992

VeriFone:The Bangalore Link Presidential Candidates Rethinking International Governance

PE RSONALITY

,&~BobiDWilliams

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Every time I return to America after a period of time abroad, I am struck by the degree to which my country has become a consumer society. Consumerism is a worldwide trend, of course. I certainly have observed a

2 Indian Software for AmericaThe VeriFone Connection

growing interest in it here in India. Though we Americans obviously have our share of economic problems these days, you would never know it from the abun-

6

U.S. Election '92-The

9 The Also-Rans

by Lee Adair Lawrence

Candidates

by Laurence J. Barrett

dance of goods on store shelves.

This cornucopia of consumer goods has its good and bad points. It's nice to have a choice, to be able to

10

A New American Ambassador for India

compare products and select the most appropriate one for your needs and your pocketbook. But in today's American supermarket or department store, the plea-

12

Rethinking International Governance

sure of choice can trigger the pain of indecision. The multiplicity of brands and styles, colors and designs, options and performance ratings, to consider in choosing, say, a pair of athletic shoes, a compact disc player, or a box of breakfast cereal can quickly overload the brain's circuits. In 1976, the typical American supermarket carried 9,000 products; today it has more than 30,000.

I quickly tire of shopping in this overstimulating environment and defer as often as I can to my wife, Lee, whose endurance and perspicacity in this pursuit exceeds my own by a light-year. I nevertheless am impressed by the immense creativity and marketing genius behind it all. Such genius has been applied not only to developing products, but also to creating services that make life easier and more convenient

16 19

Close-up Shots

22

Oh, Chicago

the bar code on a package to record its price, slides your credit card through a machine to read the data on its magnetic strip, and you're on your way. The VeriFone company is one of the leaders in the business of T A systems, and its subsidiary in Bangalore is one of the firm's star producers of software.

Our lead article this month tells how Indian software engineers are helping VeriFone produce T A systems that are far more sophisticated than those that perform simple credit card verification. The Bangalore team has developed the software for a system that, in the words of writer Lee Adair Lawrence, "can automate a whole range of complex transactions such as processing paynents, sales accounting, labor scheduling, financial management, stock taking-and much more."

VeriFone Bangalore has been earning export revenues since the year of its inception in 1990 and is one excellent example-there are many more-of Ameriusing Indian brainpower to improve the quality of life not only for Americans, but for consumers around the world.

Creative Solitude

by Anees Jung

28 Robin Williams-Getting Serious

by Joe Morgenstern

Johnny Carson: Long Night's Journey into Laughter

34 One Man's Crusade--Make It Safe 36 On the Lighter Side

38

by Bob Baker

Focus On ...

42 Forty Years of Joseph Allen Stein in India An Interview

for

the average American.

If choosing an item is sometimes difficult, paying for it is a breeze-thanks to a technology known as transaction automation, or TA to people in the industry. A clerk merely waves an electronic wand past

can high-tech companies

by Harlan Cleveland

With Stephen

Joe and I

White by Aruna Dasgupta

by Krishna Chaitanya

Front cover: Robin Williams is one of Hollywood's most talented and versatile actors, balancing comedy and dramatic roles with equal agility. Williams has won Oscar nominations thrice-for Good Morning, Vietnam; Dead Poets Society; and, most recently, The Fisher King. See page 28.

Publisher, Stephen F. Dachi; Editor, Guy E. Olson

Krishan Gabrani; Senior Editor, Amna Dasgupta; Copy Editors, A. Venkata Narayana, Snigdha Goswami; Editorial Assistants, Rocque Fernandes, Rashmi Goel; Photo Editor, Avinash Pasricha; Art Director, Nand Katyal; Associate Art Director, Kanti Roy; Artist, Hemant Bhatnagar; Production Assistant, Sanjay Pokhriyal; Circulation Manager, D.P. Sharma; Photographic Services: USIS Photographic Services Unit; Research Services: USIS Documentation Services, American Center Library, New Delhi.

Managing

Editor,

Photographs: Front cover-© 1988 Bonnie Schiffman, Onyx Enterprise, Inc. 2-5Avinash Pasricha except 3 top & 4 bottom-----{;ourtesyVeriFone. 6, 7, 9-Wide World Photos. I()-{;ourtesy Rashtrapati Bhavan. II-Avinash Pasricha. 16-18-Dennis D. Kunkel. 19-21-----{;ourtesyAnees Jung. 28 top-© Touchstone Pictures; bottom-© Arthur Grace, Sygma. 29-© Touchstone Pictures. 3Q-NBC Photos. 34 to~ourtesy National Safe Workplace Institute. 38 bottom-Avinash Pasricha. 39-Warner Brothers.

40 bottom-© Smithsonian Institution. 43-47-All pictures courtesy Joseph Allen Stein except 43 bottom and 46 by Avinash Pasricha.

Erratum:

The copyright

line for the poem "The Sleeping

Giant"

by Donald

Hall published

in the August

1992 issue of

SPAN should read: From the book Old and New Poems by Donald Hall. Published by Ticknor and Fields. a Houghton Miffiin Company.

Copyright

©

1990 by Donald

Hall.

Reprinted

Published by the United States Infonnation Service, American (phone: Haryana.

Use

of

3316841), on behalf of the American The opinions expressed SPAN

to the Editor.

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in other

Prke of magazine.

Embassy,

publications

Center.

New Delhi.

do not necessarily is encouraged,

one year's subscription

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The VeriFone Connection Traveling to the future is easy in Bangalore, Karnataka: Just drive down Ambedkar Road, locate the Indian Express Building, ride the elevator to the second floor, and step into the 21st century of VeriFone. In a quiet, carpeted, computerized environment of mirror-image work cubicles, employees of the Bangalore branch of this American multinational design software for complicated electronic systems that automate the processing of such things as health insurance claims and government benefits.

VeriFone has offices in nine countries spread across four continents. Its headquarters are in Redwood City, California, and its chief executive officer (CEO) is Hatim Tyabji, a native of Bombay. VeriFone, which began operations a little more than ten years ago with one product for one application, is now a world leader in the transaction automation (T A) industrywith more than 50 products for myriad applications in multiple markets. Company products go by such names as the ZON system, the TRANZ family, the OMNI system, Valucard systems, and the Gemstone Transaction SuperSystem. They include such hardware items as printers, PIN (personal identification number) pads for entering account numbers into computers that handle electronic payments, and pencil-like wands for re;ading the bar codes that contain the prices of products or the data for inventory items. In many instances, the products resemble the newest in hand-held calculators and desktop adding machines, but they are in effect sophisticated computer systems.

In their simplest forms, VeriFone systems verify credit card charges. At the point of sale, a clerk swipes a customer's credit card through a slot in the VeriFone terminal, which, in turn, reads the information on the card's magnetic strip and checks it against information stored either in a central computer or in the terminal itself. The system then displays any pertinent information about that card-for instance, ifit has been reported stolen or if its owner has exceeded his credit limit. At unattended points of service such as automatic teller machines (ATMs), the customer himself feeds the card into the machine, enters instructions by pressing the buttons on the keyboard, and the system completes the transaction.

In most cases the information travels over a local area network (LAN) that uses only one telephone line to connect up to 31 terminals, each one of them representing one sales clerk or cashier. However, for wider areas, VeriFone sets up what is called the wide area network-or WAN. For example, in the case of ski resorts and other sites where it is too expensive-or unfeasible-to use telephone lines, VeriFone has teamed up with telecommunications companies to develop T A systems that transfer the data over radio waves.

As complex as this transaction automation business may appear to the iayman, it is mere child's play to the Bangalore VeriFone engineers who have developed the Gemstone Transaction SuperSystem, one of the company's most sophisticated

Since it was set up in 1990, VeriFone's Bangalore operation has been developing software for transaction automation (TA) systems in use in the United States and other countries.

Left and below: The Bangalore unit sports the same look-identical carpeted cubicles-that VeriFone offices around the world do and communicates with them via computer. Right and below: VeriFone manufactures a variety of transmitters, receivers, and other equipment for its more than 50 TA systems.

Right: N. Mathi, the principal man behind the development of software for the Gemstone Transaction SuperSystem.

Below: Chief executive officer of VeriFone America Hatim Tyabji is a native of Bombay.

and advanced; it can automate a whole range of complex transactions such as processing payments, sales accounting, labor scheduling, financial management, stock taking-and much more. Yet, like all its products, Gemstone is user-friendly.

To appreciate what the system can do, imagine a patient entering a doctor's office and, instead of filling out endless forms about her medical history and medical insurance, handing over a plastic card-much like a credit card-to the nurse who swipes it through a little black box. The "reader" inside the box extracts all the relevant information from the card's magnetic strip.

That's not all. Now imagine the same patient going to the chemist's shop down the road and giving him her prescription along with the same card. Again, a quick swipe through a machine, and the chemist knows enough to charge the patient only that portion of her medication that is not covered by either the government or a private insurance company.

VeriFone recently launched a pilot project for the Gemstone SuperSystem involving 200 doctors' offices in Los Angeles and the TransAmerica Occidental Insurance Company. The system is designed to eliminate the stacks of paperwork, endless manhours, and incalculable human errors that filing and settling insurance claims entail.

In October 1991, the VeriFone marketing office in Atlanta invited the company's six development units around the world to participate in developing this pilot. "Bangalore took up the challenge and said yes," recalls V. Ramakrishna, technical director of the Bangalore office. Working with the insurance company, the Bangalore engineers designed the software injust ten months.

"This was really a crash project," says Ramakrishna. It paid off. By mid-January, an engineer from Bangalore was in Los Angeles, supervising the first phase of the operation. By MayJune, the second phase was under way; VeriFone engineers were expanding and refining the system.

Although VeriFone is not the only company in the T A

industry, its employees like to stress that it is the only one using the National Standard Format issued by the U.S. government. This, they believe, gives VeriFone a leg up on the competition.

The Los Angeles pilot project promises to playa key role in shaping the future of the Bangalore office, which, since its inception two years ago, has been very productive. In 1990, its first year of operation, the Bangalore office exported Rs. 8.5 million worth of software and designs for T A systems. Last year, it exceeded its own targets with total earnings of Rs. 33.2 million. "We are trying to position ourselves as specialists in the field of health care," says Ramakrishna.

For N. Mathi, who joined the Bangalore unit two yeqrs ago, the Los Angeles project offered him his first trip abroad and his first face-to-face encounter with VeriFone's principal market, the United States.

Mathi interacted with customers and learned things that he could not have grasped sitting in his office. "Especially in the initial stages of a project, travel is a must to understand how a customer perceives a product because his culture is different," he says.

VeriFone has discovered that this understanding can prove crucial to the success of a T A product. In the case of the health care pilot, company engineers realized that employees in doctors' offices who would do the job of entering the necessary information into the system would often be old workers not familiar with, perhaps even intimidated by, computers.

VeriFone therefore designed a package that keeps each transaction simple and straightforward with never more than three lines flashing on the system's screen.

To produce its futuristic, state-of-the-art products, VeriFone has created a 21st-century work environment.

Yet, like its deceptively simple looking devices, the company's Bangalore office appears run-of-the-mill at first glance. Like many American multinationals, the floor space is carved up into carpeted cubicles, each a clone of its neighbor: Same floor area, same built-in desk, same Pc. Only individual touches differ. One employee decorates her cubicle with a large photo of a cat, another features a poster depicting the company products.

In many companies, this kind of standardization is enforced to create an aesthetic unity. At VeriFone, the idea is that its offices, no less than its products, must be user-friendly. "To the extent it is possible, our philosophy is that all our offices, anywhere in the world, should be functionally equivalent," explains Ramakrishna.

"We want to make sure that if somebody comes in from, say, our California development center, he should enter a familiar environment and be operational within minutes. We don't want him to waste time getting oriented."

For that reason, even telephone codes are uniform: Whether an employee is sitting in a cubicle in Taipei or Bangalore, he dials the same short codes to be automatically connected to the VeriFone offices in California or Paris.

This network of identical cubicles and procedures stretches around the globe like a gigantic spiderweb, linking VeriFone offices in nine countries on four continents. At any given moment, messages are zipping from point to point or computer to computer along the strands of the web. With a few taps on her keyboard, an employee in Bangalore communicates via electronic mail-or E-mail-with a colleague in the development center in Taipei, a sales manager in Madrid, a marketing specialist in Atlanta-or even with the chief executive officer himself, wherever he may happen to be.

Although E-mail has become an almost standard feature in large corporations in the United States and elsewhere, VeriFone uses this computer-to-computer instant communications system more extensively and innovatively than most.

E-mail bridges the geographic distances among offices and employees so that colleagues around the globe can collaborate instantly on projects.

Thanks to E-mail, VeriFone also manipulates time zones to its advantage. A draft report can be zapped by its author in Taipei to colleagues in Bangalore. While Taipei sleeps, the Bangalore office amends the report, and sends it on to the United States where it will flash onto the terminal screen first thing in the morning.

The Bangalore VeriFone unit is the only foreign company in India to have earned export revenues in the first year of its operations.

VeriFone's extensive use of E-mail has philosophical ramifications in that it promotes an egalitarian culture within the company. Not only does it grant each individual a "voice," but it also allows each voice to contact anyone, including the CEO, directly. No switchboard intercepts his call, no secretary blocks access to the boss.

A striking feature of the Bangalore center is the absence of noise. Compared to many offices in India, it is as silent as a tomb--and only a small part of this is due to the muffling effect of the carpeting. The main reason lies in the conspicuous absence of peons serving coffee, trundling documents down the hallway, running messages between offices, or chatting in doorways. By virtually eliminating paper transactions among employees, E-mail has rendered the peon obsolete. As for coffee, the same individual who can contact the CEO is expected to make his or her own cup in the kitchenette equipped for this purpose. Of the office's 60 employees, only seven are support staff.

The effects ofVeriFone's emphasis on open lines of communication are visible at the macro level as well. "VeriFone is a totally global company," Ramakrishna says. "It is not global just because it has offices in nine countries. It is global by the

way VeriFone works. Its culture is global in nature."

VeriFone is only nominally headquartered in California. The headquarters of the $180-million company are in reality located wherever top management or the CEO happens to be.

In August 1990, CEO Tyabji was in Bangalore for the official opening of the branch. Tyabji, who studied engineering in Pune before migrating to the United States, insisted the opening could not take place until VeriFone Bangalore's E-mail was on line, until he could type out a message and send it to every other VeriFone office around the world.

To get to that point, a team headed by Arun Savara, director, management information systems at VeriFone Honolulu, who was responsible for Bangalore operations, worked 14-hour days for about a year. Now, Savara visits Bangalore every couple of months. On a recent trip he looked back on that intense period with pride: "VeriFone was set up in record time.

And we are the only foreign company to have earned export revenues in the first year of operation."

This success lends credence to Ramakrishna's assertion that VeriFone chose Bangalore not because of the CEO's sentiments for his country of birth but solely for practical, business reasons. "VeriFone really looks at the globe as one single marketplace and finds what advantage any given place can provide to the company," he says. Even though India offered no ready market for VeriFone's products, the company recognized that the country had great potential in terms of product development, thanks to its impressive bank of software specialists and engineers. "We want to use talent at the source," he adds. The Bangalore office, he says, has lived up to the trust placed in it. It has contributed significantly to the development of integrated systems for VeriFone's world market.

What about designing systems with the Indian customer in mind? This may take a while, according to Mathi. In the field of health care at least, he does not foresee a VeriFone system being developed any time soon. Before this could happen, the whole health care field in India would have to be standardized.

India, according to Ramakrishna, is a tremendous potential market for T A systems, and he hopes these futuristic products will be in use here sooner than later. Until such time, the Bangalore office is gearing itself up to become active in other areas. "There are two things we can do," he says. "We can be a silent spectator, watching the [Indian] market develop, or we can act as a catalyst. We are looking into the second option."

For all ofVeriFone's emphasis on openness and communication, Ramakrishna gives few specifics about the second option.

"We are just beginning a project in financial processing," he says. "There will be more information in a couple of months."

Frustrating as this answer is, it also offers the comforting reassurance that, even at VeriFone, there is a future one can reach only by waiting.

0 About the Author: Lee Adair Lawrence, afree-lance Americanjournalist who was living in Madras for the past few years, recently shifted to Washington, D.C.

The Democrats and the Republicans have made their choices. At their national conventions in July and August, they officially nominated Bill Clinton and George Bush, respectively, as their candidates, ratifying a selection process that began last February with the first of a long series of state primary elections and caucuses. Now it is up to the general public to decide whom they want for their next President: As always, voters will consider the records of the candidates, the programs that they espouse, and the of generational change. personal images that they project. This year also offers another feature-one President Bush is only the la test, and perha ps the last, in a long line of American Presiden ts-going back

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Bill Clinton At one point early in the primary election campaign, Bill Clinton's quest for the Democratic nomination seemed doomed when allegations about marital infidelity raised questions about his character and values. Clinton successfully deflected the charges and turned the public's attention to the issues that he wanted to discuss, demonstrating the consummate political skills that friends say he has been honing all his life.

Clinton, 45, was born in the southern state of Arkansas.

His father died before he was born, and Clinton was reared by his grandparents, with the support of other relatives, for several years so that his mother could pursue her education and a career in nursing. As a schoolboy, he regularly attended church services, was an excellent student, and repeatedly won election to student offices. One of his fondest memories is going to Washington, D.C., in 1963 as a delegate to a national youth conference, visiting the White House, and shaking hands with President John F. Kennedy. Clinton returned to Washington a couple of years later to study at Georgetown University. At the same time he took a job on the staff of then Arkansas Senator William J. Fulbright, whose name endures in the Fulbright Education Exchange Program he authored and who was a role model for Clinton. After Georgetown, Clinton won a Rhodes Scholarship for study at Oxford University in England where, according to U.S. News and World Report, "he was drawn into the orbit of many bright young minds-future writers, academics and politicians-who remain close friends and advisers to this day."

On his return from England, Clinton enrolled at Yale University Law School in New Haven, Connecticut. While at Yale he found time to work in the political campaigns of some liberal Democrats, and he met his future wife, Hilary Rodham, a fellow law student.

She followed him back to Arkansas, practiced law, and became one of his key political advisers. In 1974 Clinton ran for the U.S. Congress but lost to a longtime incumbent. In 1976 he was elected Arkansas attorney general and in 1978, when he was just 32, Clinton was elected governor. His political success gained him national attention, but everything did not go

smoothly for him. His recruitment of a network of out-ofArkansas advisers in a state suspicious of outsiders and his overly ambitious legislative campaign (environment and education were centerpieces of his program) have been blamed for his failure to win reelection in 1980.

Just as he rebounded from decline in this year's primary campaign, Clinton won back the governorship of his home state in 1982. Having analyzed and learned from his past mistakes, he turned his energies toward consensus building.

"No one is better than Clinton at this kind of shoulder-patting, chat-about -the-fami Iy, how-is-so-and-so-and-slich-atown politics," writes political observer Gary Wills. "In his second and subsequent terms as governor, he sought out legislators in the halls of the capitol, acting as his own best lobbyist." Educational reforms have been among the principal successes of his 12 years as governor.

In his campaign for President, Clinton has emphasized domestic issues. He has proposed health care and education reforms, and outlined initiatives to improve the economy, promote job training, increase research and development, and conserve energy. In the area of foreign policy, Clinton has tried to offer contrasting positions to those of President Bush on a couple of contentious issues. On the country's policy toward former Yugoslavia, for example, he has called for the United States to "lend appropriate military support" to ensure that United Nations relief efforts can be carried out without hindrance in Bosnia-Herzegovina.

Concerning Iraq, Clinton says that President Bush has been inconsistent in his actions toward President Saddam Hussein.

Clinton nevertheless emphasizes that he was a supporter of the international coalition effort in the Gulf War. Most observers believe that domestic, not foreign, issues will determine how the public votes for President this year. "There is a feeling," Clinton says, "I think perhaps more intense among people my age and a little older, that this is a moment we have to try to turn the country around, revive it economically, reunite it, renew it." He says that the country is going through "the deepest disillusionment with the American political system in my lifetime" and that" I've got a real job to do to demonstra te to people that I'm not part of the problem."

to Dwight D. Eisenhower (l952-60)-who were involved in World War II. Governor Bill Clinton belongs to the Vietnam War generation.

Between now and election day on November 3, Americans can count on reading and hearing daily accounts of the candidates' activities and speeches. In addition, there will be several occasions to observe them debate the issues face-to-face on television. Below, SPAN profiles the presidential Al Gore, Jr., and candidates and the men they have chosen to be their Vice Presidents-Democrat Republican Dan Quayle.

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George Bush On March 7, 1991, President George Bush appeared before a joint session of the U.S. Congress to report on America's role in the Gulf War. For three full minutes lawmakers waving small American flags gave him a standing ovation. Public opinion polls revealed an almost unheard of approval rating of 90 percent for the way he was doing his job.

It would have been unrealistic to expect Bush to sustain such a level of popularity, but no one anticipated the political free-faJi that followed. When Bush strode to the podium of the Republican national convention in Houston, Texas, this August 20 to accept his party's nomination as the presidential candidate, his approval rating had plummeted by 57 points.

In his acceptance speech, Bush pointed proudly to the successes of his foreign and domestic policy initiatives, blamed the Democratic-controlled Congress for blocking many of his programs, called for the strengthening of family values, and proposed initiatives to reduce taxes, train workers, establish incentives for research, stimulate capital and credit for small business, and reform health care and education. The President portrayed himself as a steady, seasoned, experienced, dependable leader in whom the public could have trust and confidence.

"Today the pace of change is accelerating," he ~~- 0'said. "We face new opportunities and new challenges. And the question is: Who do you trust to make change work for you?"

His speech, and-those of party loyalists, helped to reinvigorate his campaign. Polls taken just before the convention showed Bush trailing Bill Clinton by as many as 20 points. A poll taken just after the convention had him almost even with Clinton, though a couple of weeks later he had slipped behind again.

George Bush was born on June 12, 1924, in Milton, Massachusetts. His father, Prescott Bush, was a successful financier and a U.S. senator from Connecticut from 1962 to 1972.

Bush served in World War II as a U.S. Navy pilot, and won three air medals and the Distinguished Flying Cross during fighting in the Pacific. He received a degree in economics in 1948 from Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut.

He could have gone to work in his father's banking firm, but decided to strike out on his own in the oil fields of west Texas.

He worked first as a trainee and a salesman for an oil field

supply company, and then he cofounded his own company, which pioneered in experimental offshore drilling equipment.

Bush became active in Republican Party politics and in 1966 was elected to the U.S. House of Representatives.

He was reelected two years later. After his second term, he held a series of top-level posts that included U.S. ambassador to the United Nations (1971-73), chairman of the Republican National Committee (1973-74), chief U.S. diplomatic representative to the People's Republic of China (1974-75), and director of the Central Intelligence Agency (1976-77).

In 1980 he sought the Republican presidential nomination but lost to Ronald Reagan, who then chose Bush as his running mate.

As Vice President for eight years, Bush distinguished himself in several domestic and foreign policy initiatives. Reagan gave a stirring speech at last month's convention endorsing Bush's renomination: "The presidency is serious business .... We need a man of serious purpose, unmatched experience, knowledge and ability -a man who understands government, who unaerstands our country, and who understands the world .... We need George Bush."

To win reelection, Bush will have to overcome public dissatisfaction with the way he has man, aged the economy. Economic growth has averaged less than one percent a year during his term, unemployment has risen to 7.2 percent, personal income has grown by only 1.2 percent, and the budget deficit that he promised to cut remains unacceptably high. Although he vowed during the 1988 campaign not to raise taxes, he did just that in order to reach a budget-bill accord with Democratic legislators in 1990. In his convention speech he apologized for going back on his word and tried to transfer the negative fallout to Clinton.

"I underestimated Congress's addiction to taxes," he said.

"And with my back against the wall, I agreed to ahard bargainone tax increase, one time, in return for the toughest spending limi ts ever. Well, it was a mistake to go along wi th the Democra tic tax increase. And I admit it."

Bush, a perpetual optimist, was asked by Newsweek magazine whether he ever contemplated losing. "No," he said. "I literally have not. Maybe it's just my chemistry; I don't think that way. I don't do that in sports, and I don't do that in real life, and I damn sure don't do it in politics."

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AI Gore If Bill Clinton grew up yearning to get into politics, Al Gore was groomed for political life. His father, Albert Gore, Sr., was a three-term U.S. senator from Tennessee. Al spent most of his teenage years in Washington, D.C., where he attended a prestigious private secondary school before going on to Harvard University.

Gore, Jr., served in the U.S. Army and had a tour in Vietnam as a reporter for military publications. His military experience is an important political counterweight to the absence of such experience in Clinton's resume. After the army, Gore worked for several years as a newspaper reporter in Tennessee, a state that borders Arkansas. In 1976 he won election to the U.S. House of Representatives from Tennessee and in 1984 he was elected to the U.S. Senate. In 1988, he sought the Democratic presidential nomination that went to Michael Dukakis. A year later, Gore's six-year-old son was struck by an automobile and critically injured. Gore lived in his son's hospital suite for the first few weeks of the boy's recovery and says the experience "completely changed my outlook on life." It also forced him to put on hold any ambitions he had for seeking the Democratic presidential nomination in 1992. Gore and his wife Tipper, who made a name for herself in a campaign to combat offensive rock-music lyrics, also have three daughters.

The calculations that go into choosing a running mate usually call for someone from a different region of the country and a different faction of the party so as to appeal to the widest cross-section of voters possible.

In the person of Gore, however, Clinton has practically chosen his political clone. He and Gore, only 19 months apart in age (Gore is 44), are, in the words of Time magazine writer Walter Shapiro, "new-ideas moderates who love the intricacies of complex issues; both boast blue-ribbon educational pedigrees and are not ashamed to show it; both are Southern Baptists who married strong, assertive blonde women; and both, having achieved political success early in life, have never made a secret of their zeal for higher office .... " Gore, however, does offer a contrast, principally with his Washington experience where he has made a reputation as an arms control expert and as a passionate and knowledgeable advocate for environmental protection. Peggy Noonan, a former speech writer for President Ronald Reagan, covered the Democratic convention for Newsweek magazine and described Gore in this way: "Earnest, modern, blandly debonair, he was the surprise of the convention, with the best speech. He had context: The war is over, the world has changed, our next great battle is not on the land but for it."

Dan Quayle George Bush surprised just about everyone when he chose Dan Quayle to be his running mate in 1988. Quayle at the time was a relatively unknown U.S. senator from Indiana.

Many observers wondered why Bush had not chosen a more seasoned, nationally known politician, and their doubts were only intensified when Quayle committed some speechmaking gaffes on the campaign trail. But as Vice President, Quayle has gone a long way toward dispelling doubts about his capabilities.

The job of Vice President is open-ended and undefined; the only requirements are that the incumbent serve as president of the Senate, voting only to break a tie, and that he be prepared to replace the President should circumstances require it. Quayle took on the chairmanship of the National Space Council and headed the White House Council on Competitiveness.

Although the latter has no statutory power, The New York Times noted that "Quayle and his staff have turned it into a genuine sphere of influence by focusing on conservatism's heartthrob issue-the excesses of government regulation."

Quayle, in fact, has spoken out on controversial conservative issues such as abortion and life-style, and he has been the administration's conduit to groups on the far right of the political spectrum. He has also represented the White House in numerous trips overseas. He headed the American delegation to India last year for the funeral of Rajiv Gandhi.

Quayle grew up in Arizona and Indiana where the publishing company that his family owned operated newspapers. He worked in Republican political campaigns as a teenager. He received degrees in political science from DePauw University in Greencastle, Indiana, and in law from Indiana University in Indianapolis. He worked for a while in the family business and as a private attorney, but in 1976 he won election to the U.S. House of Representatives against a popular Democrat. Four years later he ran for the U.S. Senate and became, at age 33, the youngest senator ever elected from Indiana. He' applied himself diligently, served on committees dealing with the budget, armed services, labor, and human resources.

Although Quayle has won considerable respect for his performance, he nevertheless has been plagued by the occasional gaffe, subjected to intense press scrutiny, and has often been the butt of jokes by television comedians. Right up to the day that the Republican convention began in Houston, Quayle had to contend with press speculation that Bush may dump him in favor of someone else.

Asked if he ever considered leaving the ticket, Quayle responded, "If I thought that I was a liability or would hurt the reelection prospects of the President, I'd be gone. I'm here ... and we're going to win."

D

U'S'~92 ELECTION

The Also-Rans While the Democrats and Republicans have dominated the presidential election scene, other parties (and individuals not linked to any party) have competed for the presidency with dogged determination, undaunted by the failures of their predecessors.

Ask the average American how many candidates ran for President in 1988 and the likeliest answer will be two: Republican George Bush and Democrat Michael Dukakis. But the correct answer is 19. In different combinations of states, representatives of one or more minor parties were listed on ballots as nominees for President. Four years ago those 17 candidates of tiny factions had no impact on the outcome. Among them, they attracted only one percent of the popular vote. This year, another cadre of in de pendents is striving for recognition. Most of those candidates have scant prospects for making a large impression.

But fringe candidates are not always a negligible force in presidential elections.

Though the United States has operated under a system of two major parties since 1860, this system is not prescribed by the U.S. Constitution, and independent political movements or personalities periodically gain enough momentum to mount significant election efforts. This year, one unorthodox contender had the resources to make the difference. Ross Perot, a highly successful businessman from Texas, announced last spring that he would run as an independent candidate if enough ordinary citizens around the country volunteered to assist him.

Thousands of Americans showed interest in Perot's campaign. They began to circulate petitions on his behalf at the local level, a procedure necessary to have a candidate's name placed on ballots in the 50 states, plus the District of Columbia. Perot evoked this response because

he offered a stark contrast to conventional politicians. He represented no party or particular ideology. Rather he offered himself as an individual leader with pragmatic views who proposed his own brand of practical solutions to the country's most vexing problems.

Most of these involve fiscal and economic issues-how to reduce the large and growing federal debt, how to finance reforms in the nation's health-care system, how to compete more effectively with other industrial democracies such as Japan and Germany. Having built up an electronics business from scratch to a point where he became one of the 25 richest persons in America, Perot im-

pressed many people as a realistic problem-solver who knows how to manage major enterprises.

His thousands of supporters throughout the country were shocked and disappointed when Perot abruptly announced in mid-July that he did not want to be a candidate because he had come to the conclusion that he could not win an outright victory in November.

While he was in the fray, Perot was trying to follow the example of a handful of earlier independent contenders who used personal charisma as a means of distinguishing themselves from relatively bland, conventional candidates.

In the past, strong leaders such as Theodore Roosevelt (after he had retired from the White House), Strom Thurmond, Henry A. Wallace, and George C. Wallace took advantage of America's permissive election laws to run for the presidency.

None of these bold challengers to the two-party system captured the White House, but a few have affected the election results and influenced the nation's political direction. Sometimes these candidates have been innovative progressives, harbingers of reforms later adopted by the larger parties. Roosevelt and Henry Wallace fit that category, though they represented diverse points along the political spectrum.

A second category contains more obscure individuals with tiny followings.

They run mainly to give expression to their agendas and to provide their adherents with a rallying point. Four times in (Text

continued on page 40)

Narayanan and Prime Minister P.V. Narasimha Rao. He also made a three-day visit to Bombay to meet local government and business leaders.

In his conversation with the Prime Minister, the ambassador expressed the hope that India and the United States would intensify their consultations and listen to each other more closely to avoid surprising each other. He also proposed that the two governments give priority to issues that appear easier for them to settle, thus building a platform of success on which to deal with more difficult matters.

As an indication of his interest in economic relations between the two countries, Pickering chose an August 18 meeting of the Indo-U.S. Joint Business Council for his first public appearance. He told the council members that he had stopped off in Tokyo, Seoul, and Hong Kong on his way to New Delhi "to get a feel.fo~ how .the .Pacific ~asin sees India's watershed economic liberalizatIOns. It IS a mark of the change in India-and the change in our relationship--that an incoming U.S. ambassador would not only find it useful, but indeed essential, to get this kind of input."

He urged the council members to support actively India's market-oriented reforms, which he said America applauds. He noted that America long has been India's largest trading partner and its largest single source of foreign investment, but that the two countries could do much better.

"We not only have an unprecedented opportunity to strengthen and multiply the links between the Indian and American economies," he said, "we are also presented with an unusual and urgent requirement to work in concert...to fortify the global economy itself."

ANew American .ÂŁ I de m assa or lor n la A b d

by GUY E. OLSON and BERTA GOMEZ

Thomas R. Pickering, one of America's most distinguished and experienced career diplomats, is the new U.S. ambassador to India. He presented his credentials to President Shankar Dayal Sharma on August 14 at Rashtrapati Bhavan (above).

In remarks prepared for the credentials ceremony, Pickering spoke of the rich history of relations between India and the United States. Recent world events, particularly the end of the Cold War, have created, he said, "the potential for much closer collaboration.

"I see a strong will on both sides to fulfill that potential. In discussions with American government officials, businessmen, scientists, and academics prior to my arrival here, I heard repeated expressions of support and enthusiasm for the converging national interests of India and the United States.

"This was particularly true from the 850,OOO-strong IndianAmerican community," Pickering continued, "a proud, successful, and esteemed component of our multiethnic society.

Knowledgeable Americans from all walks of life recognize that India-by virtue of its diplomatic, economic, military, and intellectual strength--ean and must play a major role in shaping a better world for all of us."

Pickering pointed to the potential for greater trade and economic cooperation between India and America, the opportunity for achieving both countries' goal of ridding the world of nuclear weapons, the promise of confidence-building measures (see SPAN, April 1992) for easing tensions in the region, and such other areas of mutual interest as increased military contacts, suppression of illegal narcotics trafficking, human rights, and collaboration on a wide range of developmental, scientific and technological, agricultural, and other programs. To achieve progress on these and other fronts, Pickering said India and America would "need to shed certain old and outdated notions about each other" but expressed the belief that they could find common cause.

The ambassador, true to his style, immediately began an intensive round of diplomatic activity, calling on numerous top level government officials, including Vice President K.R.

Pickering is one of only five members of the U.S. Foreign Service with the rank of career ambassador. During his 33-year career, he has held some of America's most sensitive diplomatic posts. Most recently he was U.S. Permanent Representative to the United Nations.

According to the Washington Post, former defense secretary Harold Brown had once described Pickering as "just about the brightest young fellow I've ever seen," and Jordan's King Hussein singled him out as "the best American ambassador I've ever dealt with." Former Secretary of State George Shultz called Pickering "the cream of America's career diplomats."

Thomas Pickering was born in Orange, New Jersey, in 1931.

In 1953, he graduated cum laude from Bowdoin College, Brunswick, Maine, with high honors in history. He received a master's degree from the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University, Medford, Massachusetts, in 1954, and was awarded a Fulbright scholarship to the University of Melbourne in Australia, where he obtained a second master's degree in 1956.

From 1956 to 1959 he served in the U.S. Navy and later in the Naval Reserve. Pickering joined the foreign service in 1959, serving first with the Arms Control and Disarmament Agency in Washington, and then as a political adviser to the U.S. delegation to the 18-nation disarmament conference in Geneva.

There followed a series of foreign and domestic assignments-principal officer to Zanzibar (1965-67), deputy chief of mission to Tanzania (1967-69), deputy director of the Bureau of Politico-Military Affairs (1969-73), executive secretary to the Department of State (1973), ambassador to Jordan (1974-78), assistant secretary of state for Oceans and International Environmental and Scientific Affairs (1978-80), and ambassador to Nigeria (1981-83), to EI Salvador (1983-85), and to Israel (1985-88).

In 1989, President Bush named Pickering to represent the United States at the UN. There he was instrumental in getting both sides to the Salvadoran conflict to sign the peace agreement that ended their bloody civil war and in getting trade and air service sanctions against Libya for its refusal to allow two of its agents to stand trial for the bombing of an airliner over Lockerbie, Scotland. He was also credited with working tirelessly to persuade the General Assembly in 1991 to reverse the long-standing resolution equating Zionism with racism.

During the crisis in the Persian Gulf, Pickering won plaudits for managing the sensitive negotiations that eventually won UN approval for the multinational effort that halted Iraq's aggression against Kuwait.

This past April, the Americas Society presented Pickering with its Pan America Gold Medal for his work at the UN. David Rockefeller, president of the society, praised Pickering for his skill, tact, ingenuity, and overall success during "the awkward and difficult moments of Desert Storm and what led up to it.. ..At a moment when the United States has many reasons to be proud ... one of the reasons that we can feel proudest is that we have the caliber of representation that we have had in the past few years [at the United Nations]."

Meanwhile, this month Pickering is to receive two more awards. On September 16 in New York City the Business Council for the United Nations (BCUN) will honor the ambassador with its 1992 BCUN Medal "for your outstanding contributions to world peace and to the United Nations .... You have been an agent of change that has allowed the UN to

become the effective organization it is today." Previous recipients of the four-year-old award have been UN SecretaryGeneral Javier Perez de Cuellar (1988), President Ronald Reagan (1989), President Mikhail Gorbachev (1990), and Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher (1991).

On September 17, Pickering will be in Washington to receive the 14th annual Jit Trainor Award for Distinction in the Conduct of Diplomacy from Georgetown University's School of Foreign Service. The award is named after an illustrious early graduate of the school.

Importance of India The selection of a person of Pickering's stature and experience to serve in New Delhi is strong testimony to the importance that the Bush Administration places on relations with India. At a U.S. Senate hearing on his nomination, Senator Claiborne Pell, chairman of the senate foreign relations committee, said, "Many of us can think of no diplomat more capable than Mr. Pickering to represent the U.S. view on such pressing issues as nuclear proliferation, economic reform, and India-Pakistan relations."

And Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan, a former American ambassador to India (1973-75), said to Pickering: "I know that in India they will realize that you are the senior diplomat the United States has in the world and that... there have been lots of new beginnings with India, but I think you're going to mark the first real one."

Pickering has said he is delighted with his India assignment.

Before he departed the United States, the ambassador met with South Asian journalists in Washington to talk about his new posting. He recalled his previous short-term visits to India and said that he was "particularly pleased to be asked by the President to go to India at this very challenging time. India," he added, "has been, for many years, a private choice of mine as a place in which to serve, particularly as ambassador."

Pickering was accompanied to New Delhi by his wife, Alice Stover Pickering. Before their marriage in 1955, Mrs. Pickering was a U.S. Foreign Service officer. The Pickerings have two children-a daughter, Margaret, who is a lawyer with the State Department in Washington, and a son, Timothy, who is a physician in Ohio.

Pickering enjoys visiting and photographing archaeological and historical sites, and scuba diving. Given the demands of settling into his new job, it is unlikely he will be able to take up any of these pursuits any time soon. For now, he says he will concentrate on submerging himself in the business of running the U.S. Embassy in New Delhi and learning as much as he can about India and Indians.

"I hope to travel widely," he says, "to speak to as many Indians as possible, and-particularly in my early months-to focus on learning something about India, which is a huge and impressive country and one where I think the process of learning never ends."

0 About the Author: Berta Gomez is a SPAN Washington, D.C.

correspondent

based in

Rethinking International Knowledge has always been power.

The wide spread of knowledge produced much progress for the growing educated fraction of the human race. But its thoughtless exercise also produced dirty air and water, more and more powerful weapons, and a rising backlash of second thoughts about the waste, danger, and unfairness that seemed to be the handmaidens of this progress.

The current cacophony of change-the "democracy movement" in Eastern Europe and the [former] Soviet Union, the "greening" of politics and business, the debating of settled assumptions, and the pushiness of people wanting a voice in their own destiny-is the natural consequence of getting hundreds of millions of people educated to think for themselves and to learn to use modern information technologies.

The opportunities are enormous for what the United Nations Charter calls "peace and security" and "better standards of life in larger freedom." There are also plenty of age-old miseries to tackle afresh: Shocking contrasts of poverty and affluence, human hunger in the face of technological plenty, and injustice and bigotry.

Knowledge brings with it a number of forces for change in world affairs: Explosive power. A generation of mutual deterrence taught the two major nuclear powers that their "ultimate weapons" were ultimately unusable. Nuclear strategy became an information game, with deployment, arms negotiations, and crisis management among the Reprinted by permission from the May/June 1991 issue published by the World Future Society.

4916 SI. Elmo Avenue. Bethesda. Maryland 20814.

Copyright Š 1991 World Future Society. of The Futurist,

counters in the game. The spread of nuclear weapons now creates a need for multilateral deterrence. And the speed and complexity of crisis information systems, shortening reaction time and greatly expanding the number of options available, heightens the danger of suicidal acts by political leaders.

Biotechnology. A world economy built more around bioresources could be a fairer world. Much of the world's supply of biomass and life-giving radiation from the sun are located in the tropical and subtropical lands where most of the world's poorer people live. Their poverty is not of physical resources but of knowing how to use them. Developing countries could shift comparative advantage in their favor by educating their citizens to help them understand their biotechnological potentials.

Communication. The miracles of information technology could be used to reinforce control by the few and technological unemployment for the many. But they can also be used to provide new chances and choices. A society with better communications among citizens and between citizens and government will put a higher premium on early education and lifelong learning; its style of governance will be consultation and consensus, and its society will live by an ethic of dynamism and fairness rather than equilibrium and "fitting in."

Ecology. The lesson of the mutual relations between organisms and their environment is basic and brutal: We interdepend or perish. Widening awareness of the dangers to global systems is creating a consensus that we had better protect and enhance the human environment we hold' in common. The ecological ethic is not "limits to growth" but rather limits to thoughtlessness, waste, and neglect-

which imply limits to poverty and affluence, limits to depletion and degradation of resources, and limits to the scale of armed conflicts about resources, religion, cultural identity, or anything else.

Fairness. As information becomes the world's dominant resource, fairness increasingly depends on encouraging learning, permitting people to think for themselves, and rewarding brain work above all. Fairness is a function of human rights and development. "International human rights" has become the first truly global political philosophy. But development--economic growth with fairness-is not universal.

Cultural identity. The desire to identify with a congenial "we" against a presumably hostile "they" is a primordial urge.

The clashes of ancient religions and modern ambitions, of self-conscious ethnicity and professional solidarity, bear witness to the "inward pull of community."

Far from melding the world's rich variety of cultures into a homogeneous lump, the global technologies that make us one world also help intensify a whirlwind of conflict among groups, peoples, and nations. The more congested the world, the more cultural diversity and identity must be provided for.

Participation. The dominant metaphor of our time is "the right to choose." All around the \\i0rld, people are/breaking'

Governance away from authoritarian rule because they observe that where political choice works, however messily, citizens seem to live better, with more chances to choose their personal futures. To accommodate the growing numbers of people who insist on participating in the decisions that affect them, leadership will have to be more consensual and future institutions of governance at every level will have to be loose and pluralistic.

World Problems Are Interconnected The line between "domestic" and "international" is irretrievably blurred, and various forms of cross-border intervention-some uninvited and some by invitation-are required for reasons of security or humanity or both.

On human rights, agreed-upon worldwide norms are spelled out in much international law. But the main instrument of cross-border intervention has been information, mostly purveyedby courageous and persistent nongovernmental organizations.

Where there is a breakdown of governance, outsiders especially concerned may need to intervene to restrain partisan violence, help build new frameworks for governance, and provide resources and technical help.

The main,g~flgersto world security are likely to st~r~¡witli,~urblllence and terror

The spread of democracy, the greening of politics and business, and lessons learned from past mistakes offer new approaches to solving old world problems.

in the poorer countries, driven by resentments about economic fairness and cultural conflict. In these conflicts, 85 percent to 90 percent of the casualties are civilians, most of them children. World security requires that we organize to anticipate, deter, and mediate regional conflict, manage crises, mediate ancient quarrels where possible, isolate those that cannot yet be settled, stop wars when they break out, and restore peace after it is broken.

International terrorism-threatening or detaining or mistreating or murdering innocent bystanders for purposes of extortion-is of growing concern in international affairs. No government can even pretend to protect all its citizens wherever they are-especially if they insist on staying in a dangerous locale after warnings are given. But if governments refuse to be swayed by the plight of their kidnapped citizens, the hostages become less valuable; and travelers and workers outside their own countries are correspondingly safer.

The drug epidemic requires a major international effort on all three parts of the problem-demand, production, and trading. Bankers, educators, social agencies, and police forces-all key to attacking the drug epidemic- -eould organize internationally and thereby persuade their governments that this scourge needs to be taken more seriously.

There are almost as many international refugees (15 million) as there were just after World War II and an equal number of displaced persons chased from their homes inside their own countries. A permanent UN agency, along the lines of the UN High Commission on Refugees, should be set up to ensure the temporary care of people unable to return to their homes but not yet able to be resettled.

Coping with catastrophe is another

cross-border function that needs more professional attention and international cooperation. Disasters will occur due to both natural causes (earthquakes, floods) and human inadvertence (Bhopal, Chernobyl). Disaster relief requires ready funding, forces and facilities in place, and the executive energy to deploy them in a hurry, in large operations in unknown places at unpredictable times.

Revising Flawed Assumptions We have learned much from what worked and what didn't work in this century's first two tries at "world order"-the League of Nations after 1919 and the United Nations after 1945. We have a chance now to revise the flawed assumptions on which the United Nations was built: That the world is truly a "community," that the major powers that won World War II would squash aggression by always working together, that the Western parliamentary model would apply (with nations substituted for individuals), and that the United Nations would be a way station to some kind of world government-which could too easily have become another form of oppressive authority.

The fruitful lessons of the United Nations' 47 years are found in bits and pieces, in its parcels of functional operations. Some of these are in highly political arenas, such as the codification of human rights or the unremitting pressure on South Africa to end apartheid. But most of the bright spots in international cooperation show up where new technologies make win-win situations possibleand restrain the temptation of political leaders to score debating points instead of deciding to do together what can only be done together.

Most of the daily news about inter-

... national cooperation is its absence-distrust, suspicion, controversy, conflict, terrorism, and war. But many international systems-ranging from weather forecasting and international civil aviation to transnational investment and international health-care efforts-are working more or less the way they are supposed to work.

International cooperation works when there is a consensus on desired outcomes, when it is clear that no one loses, and when sovereignty is pooled rather than argued about. It takes special effort by national citizens willing to take the lead as international people.

Tn all the success stories, modern information technologies have been of the essence. Also, nongovernmental organizations have played key roles. Flexible, "uncentralized" management seems to work best, and the education of "local talent" is essential.

Building New Institutions From a mix of world experience and universal aspirations, we can derive some guidelines for this "new try" at organizing international systems, the third in the 20th century. For example, experience shows us that, under a workable system, no one country or individual is going to be "in charge."

Experience has also shown us that nations, like people, can agree on next steps to be taken together if they can avoid arguments about why they are agreeing.

Some norms are already widely accepted, and violations are dramatic because they are rare. These include territorial integrity, the immunity of diplomatic missions and civilian aircraft and ships, and the obligation to help refugees. Slavery and colonial rule are effectively banned. Also on its way out, much more slowly, is overt official discrimination against people for being different. There is also a striking unanimity of agreement on avoiding a third world war, on protecting the air and the earth from further degradation, and on the ambition that no child should go to bed hungry.

Tn every part of the international system, what works best is a wide consensus

on norms and standards, leaving to uncentralized systems the task of carrying ideas into action. "Consensus" doesn't mean unanimous consent. It means the acquiescence of those who care, supported by the apathy of those who don't.

The lack of centralization means there is much more room for "coalitions of the willing" and for nongovernmental organizations of many kinds.

Tn building global institutions, we will have to get beyond the traditional UN formula----{;ommittees of sovereigns with a staff. Where an international capacity to act is of the essence, an extranational institution is more likely to be effective. It features a strong but collective executive that is able, from an international platform, to do policy analysis, negotiate consensus on norms and standards, keep a watchful eye on how markets and managers are carrying out agreed policies, and blow the whistle in public when such policies are not carried out.

The finances of ongoing international functions-such as peacekeeping, development aid, and environmental protection-must be set free from the need for national legislatures to scratch their heads each year, pondering whether their international obligations should be funded. A stream of funds for such purposes should be created by international taxes on functions that crucially depend on the maintenance of a peaceful world: Travel, transportation, communications, international transactions, and the use of the global commons (Earth's oceans, its atmosphere, Antarctica, and outer space).

The purposes and principles of the UN Charter are still a good guide for the third try at organizing international systems.

But many of the Charter's procedures are outdated obstacles to cooperation and will have to be bypassed in the future of international governance. For example, UN peacekeeping is already done in ways not spelled out in the Charter yet consonant with its purposes. Nongovernmental organizations, largely ignored in the Charter, will play major roles in the policy analysis and consensus building that will guide most of the world's work-

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Nations, like people, can agree on next steps to be taken together if they can avoid arguments about why they are agreeing. preventing armed conflict, regulating the world economy, and enhancing the human environment.

Managing crises now requires a worldwide crisis-information network. Space satellites, for observation and communication, can keep the world apprised of most military-related movements.

Computer teleconferencing and satellite broadcasting can also playa role. ¡But the key role will still be played by individuals who have to organize the data into information, integrate it into their knowledge base, use their intuition, and derive from all this the wisdom to foresee conflict and work to mediate and moderate it.

Conflict resolution usually needs a "third party" instantly available to talk frankly with and listen hard to both (or many) disputants. Heads of governments and UN secretaries general have done this, themselves or through personal representatives.

There are also international courts and arbitrators. But what is needed is an international panel of conciliators, experienced people known for their independence of spirit and skill in human relations, designated ahead of time by the United Nations, who agree to drop immediately whatever else they may be doing and act for the community of nations in defusing or resolving an international conflict.

UN peacekeeping forces have already chalked up some notable successes. But training and funding have been left to ad hoc arrangements, different for each case as it comes up. It's high time that peacekeeping become an established part of the UN system, funded by the world commu-

nity as a whole and recruiting and training military personnel from as many countries as possible.

A Nobody-in-Charge World The movers and shakers in our unruly world will still be the political democracies and their market economies and the smaller countries that choose to associate with them. But their troubles at home bedevil the leaders' capabilities both to cooperate and to lead.

The United States is still first among equals: The Iraq crisis bears witness. But U.S. financial and industrial mismanagement have made it impossible for Americans to "lead with the purse." The most important thing Americans can do to create a world system that works is to get their own economic house in order.

The European Community is soon to become the world's largest single market-and potentially its greatest economic power. But Europe is a long way from having a "European" foreign and security policy; the continent is still a determined diversity of cultures and connections in search of a unified worldview. But Europe is likely, in time, to act as one of several great powers in world affairs.

Japan is caught between its reluctance to lead and the world's assumption that Japan's wealth obliges it to step forward in dozens of contexts as a major partner in the United Nations, in peacekeeping coalitions, in international banks and funds, and in refugee relief and resettlement.

Hard work and astute business strategies, the hallmarks of Japan's success, will sharpen these dilemmas, not cause them to go away.

The internal reforms anticipated to take place during the 1990s in the [former states of the] Soviet Union and Eastern Europe depend heavily on those nations' cooperation with industrial democracies and their knowledge-driven economies and on aid, loans, investment, and technical help from their more-dynamic world neighbors.

China's aging leaders still don't believe the advice that Mikhail Gorbachev gave them in 1989 (but didn't take seriously

enough himself): You can't loosen up the economy without loosening up the political system, too. Until that lesson sinks in, with all it implies for change and reform, China will be marginal in the world economy and (except for its veto vote in the UN Security Council) in world politics as well.

Among the developing nations of Asia, Africa, and Latin America, no leading champion yet stands out. These countries will contain the great bulk of the world's population. Continued rapid growth of population in developing countries risks increasing their dependence on the industrial democracies-and also risks generating resentful behavior that threatens the delicate networks of the global knowledge economy.

The hope for healthy growth-with-fairness and for regional security arrangements lies not in the developing nations clubbing together to confront the world's richer minority, but in natural groupings of more-developed and less-developed countries. For example, the United States and Canada will be associated anew with Mexico, the Caribbean, northern South America, and the richer world of America south of the Amazon.

A "Club" of Democracies As the Cold War fizzled out, all sorts of world-scale issues elbowed their way to center stage. Iraq's invasion of Kuwait, and the global coalition it brought into being, is the most dramatic of these. But many others were evident: Eruptions of long-suppressed ambitions for cultural identity in Eastern Europe; the need for international machinery to anticipate, deter, and resolve conflicts around the world; the probability of vast, unprecedented migrations of people; and the need for education, which affects the behavior of whole populations.

Issues such as these become a collective responsibility. Our nobody-in-charge world system will now require a more consensual style of leadership, featuring less command and compliance and more consultation and compromise.

Each issue requires action by adifferent community of those concerned.

A "club" of democracies is now becoming the gyroscope for world security, the world economy, and world development.

It is a consultative grouping of those willing and able to act together, with a different mix of leadership for different issues. It was the core of resistance to Iraq's thrust to the south; it has been the core of UN peacekeeping; it is the main source of development aid; and it is the key factor in protecting Earth's environment.

It is a center of initiative with a habit of consultation and an activist caucus within the United Nations and other international organizations-what Massachusetts Institute of Technology political science professor Lincoln Bloomfield calls a "coalition of the willing."

The "club," of course, is open-ended. A good many nations that were democracy's adversaries are trying now, in various ways, to chart paths to govemment by consent. Moreover, this informal "club" will consist more and more not only of governments, but also of nongovernmental organizations influential in world affairs.

By the beginning of the 21st century, it seems probable that the "club" of democracies will still provide most of the knowledge, imagination, energy, and resources required for international governance.

But the broadening leadership of that informal grouping will likely make the global community, even more than it is today, a world with nobody in chargeand, therefore, with many elements of the world's breathtaking diversity partly in charge.

0 About the Author: Harlan Cleveland, aformer U.S. assistant secretary of state and ambassador to NATO, is professor emeritus at the University of Minnesota's Hubert H. Humphrey Institute of Public Affairs.

This article is adapted from a book-length report resulting from a four-year project of the Humphrey Institute of Public Affairs. The project, guided by a group of 31 people from 24 countries, was codirected by Cleveland; Geri Joseph, former U.S. ambassador to the Netherlands; Professor Magda Cordell McHale of the State University of New York, Buffalo; and Professor Lincoln Bloomfield of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

Close-up Shots

PHOTOGRAPHS

There is more to the world of tiny living things and small inanimate objects than meets the eye. When viewed under a scanning electron microscope (SEM), a black ant, a carpet beetle, or crystals of ammonium chloride, for example, reveal strange shapes and dramatic abstract images-all invisible to the naked eye.

Some scientists studying these objects have been so fascinated by what they have seen that they have produced photomicrographs of artistic value.

One such scientist/artist is Dennis D. Kunkel, a senior research associate in the department of neurological surgery at

BY DENNIS D KUNKEL

the University of Washington, Seattle. Kunkel studies the central nervous system. For several years, he also has produced prize-winning, close-up photos, some of which appear on these pages, with a SEM, which captures lifelike perspective images impossible to see with optical microscopes.

A specimen is thinly coated with gold and palladium. Then, the SEM's electron "gun" systematically bombards the specimen with a magnetically focused electron stream. Electrons displaced from the special coating are received on an electronically charged grid. Their impulses are amplified to form an . image on a phosphorescent screen.

D

Left: The head of a black ant, magnified 90 times.

Bottom: Immature sea urchin spines, 230 X.

Ragweed pollen grain, 3,600 X.

was in one of the more ruralNew England's fall is achlooking regions, amidst woodingly beautiful, a time when lands and fields and meadows. leaves matter more than flowBud kept a good pace and ers, when the green of their delivered me at the gate of Macnature turns to a violent red, dowell Colony in less than two yellow, and orange. It is one season in the cycle of nature that hours. Colony Hall, a small does not really improve by white structure, the nerve center of the Colony, was deserted on memory. To refresh mine I that Saturday morning. With chose to return to New England my suitcases I stood alone cirwhen I accepted an invitation to cled by a forest and a silence, spend six weeks in Macdowell idyllic and forbidding at the Colony. I arrived at Boston's same time. It was perhaps this Logan airport and saw an elthat had first drawn the derly man limping his way tofounders of the Colony to this ward me. He was Bud, the driver .. "\4 spot. In 1896, the Macdowells of a minibus that was to transport me to Peterborough in New (Marion was a pianist and Ed a renowned composer) had taken Hampshire, the home of Maca train from Boston to rural dowell Colony.

Peterborough. Enchanted by its Each arrival, however familair of tranquillity they had iar the country, is accompanied bought a farm and returned to it by a certain sense of discomfort. every summer. In the winter of One finds oneself eager to know 1906, a sick Ed Macdowell had the land, place oneselfin the new expressed the hope of setting up setting, forge connections. in Peterborough a small retreat What do you grow in these Macdowell Colony, a tranquil that would bring artists of difparts? I asked Bud as I chose to retreat in rural Peterborough, New ferent disciplines under one settle in the front row seat near roof. A healthy and valuable him. The bus rolled down the Hampshire, attracts writers, composers, exchange of ideas, he believed, gentle hills, lit in patches by and painters from around the would ensue from such an assoSeptember's foliage. My Indian world. The author (seen above in front ciation of artists who would mind was subconsciously of her studio at the Colony) learn to appreciate fully "the searching for farmers in fields, recalls her experiences there last year. fundamental unity of the sepastoic, if not with a plow then at rated arts." His dream came least with a tractor.

"We grow little," Bud said, drawing me back to a reality that alive when the Colony opened a year before his death in 1907 with two residents, both women, an artist and a sculptor. By had no fields or plows. "This is good apple country but no one 1911, Marion Macdowell, a woman of great determination, grows them anymore here. We have some peaches. Folks grow had bought more land, set up more studios, and received more them in the backyards." I soon realized that most of the food and artists. Through the years the Colony achieved the permanence fruit that America consumes is grown only on four percent of the and credibility that Marion constantly sought. Remembering land. "Farm country is disappearing," Bud said. He had himself retired to a farmhouse in Keene where all he had was some poultry. the Macdowells in the September of 1991, one distinguished The oranges that people eat in New York are flown in from friend of the Colony said: "In a world that too often subjugates California, I learnt. There are no staple foods linked to certain artistic endeavors to the level of passing entertainments, the Macdowell Colony has nurtured and supported writers, comregions like wheat grown and consumed in Punjab, jowar in Maharashtra, or rice in Andhra and Bengal. Wherever they live posers, visual artists, and architects for most of this century with a clear sense Qf how those women and men would enhance the Americans eat the same foods that are packaged somewhere else. world's environment and how their work would stimulate our The lay of the land does not dictate what the people eat. And yet I

Creative Solitude

consciousness for a better understanding of ourselves."

While discovering the mystery of the forest and the silence, I was attempting to recapture my memories of women in Islam for the book I was working on, "Night of the New Moon" [due to be published by Penguin later this year]. I was led to the Omicron Studio, a log cabin-like structure with a gable roof, a fireplace, ready with enough logs, and beside it a wooden plaque signed by all those who had lived and worked in the studio. In some ofthese plaques, hung in the different studios, was enshrined the history of Macdowell with signatures of the likesofJames Baldwin (who wrote Go Tell it on the Mountain in the Baetz Studio), Sylvia Plath, Milton Avery, Aaron Copland, and Thornton Wilder.

The cumulative energy of so many creative minds hung over the Colony like a mist, making even the dreams very vivid.

I spread out the pages of my unwritten book over the long wooden table and stared out of the wide glass window, hoping to catch those presences. Learning to live with the mystique and adjusting to the silence of the forest became more integral than the writing ofthe book. I did notgo too far with my "Night of the New Moon." I did though coping with the legendary solitude that is supposed to be a writer's lot. I wrote a bit, went out of the studio to gaze at the tall birches, watched the butterflies, and sat on the steps listening for sounds. One that made me sit up was merely the fall of an autumn leaf! From morning until I walked back through the woods to Colony Hall for dinner I did not see another soul except when the lunch basket was quietly left at my studio door at noon. I waited to hear the sound of the pickup truck on the gravel path. But Bill arrived silently, intending not to disturb me, little realizing that I wanted to be disturbed.

Evenings in Colony Hall were filled with good cheer, cheap wine, and camaraderie. It was as ifthe 30 of us were making up for the long silence of the day. This was the time to talk, to read newspapers, answer the phone calls, watch the news on television, and get hooked up with the world. We gathered in the wooden paneled parlor, under the benign gaze of the Macdowells whose portraits hung above the fireplace. In one easy chair sat 85-year-old Louise Talma, a prim lady with her silver blonde braid tied above her head. A composer, this was her 35th time in the Colony. She had known it in the days of Marion Macdowell when colonists were more tidy and considerate. "They did not leave cigarette butts on the floor and half-eaten plums in ashtrays," she whispered holding a glass of scotch in one hand.

Despite her acquaintance with a more disciplined time, she exuded an extraordinary sense of warmth and friendship. We became friends. In me, she said, she heard echoes of another time.

As I did much in the same way in Jacqueline Johnson, a large black woman, a native of Charleston, Virginia, now settled in Brooklyn, New York. She always had "quilted dreams of North Star," she mused. She was a writer of children's stories and a poet. When she recited her poems her voice sang. It was like listening to Urdu ghazals.

About the Author: Anees lung, noted writer-columnist Unveiling India, is based in New Delhi.

and author of

We felt one in our bewilderment of the forest and its mysteries.

"But the forest takes you in if you let it," she would say. It perhaps did with her, recognizing her primeval leanings. Jacqueline in her dark hours went back to her roots in Africa. She spoke about them with pride. Unlike the others who never mentioned their origins, their homes, or their families, Jacqueline's eyes lit up when she talked about her ancestors. "What keeps us alive" was her most recent poem dedicated to her grandmother. I felt privileged when she invited me to her studio to share her basket lunch when she read it out to me. The memory of Hannah Bennett Jenkins rang in these lines: Is someone who knew you before you was born Is someone who knows your song before you can speak was my grandma, who in the dark years of my life in naive wanderings of early footsteps became my Carolina sun My we who knew me before I did ....

"I was an orphan and would have remained one, Iiterally, if not for my grandmother," Jacqueline said, remembering the less poetic part of her childhood. She was a child of the deep South when segregation was a way oflife. But segregation then had its own peculiar strength, she said. Going to a segregated school meant being confident in the knowledge that her black teacher knew her, her parents, the street where she lived. The teacher invested in her intellectual abilities, there was an emotional bond between them. That no longer exists for children who go to mixed schools today. What does it mean for the few black children in a white school? They seldom encounter a black teacher who could serve as their role model. So they grow up isolated and confused.

The strong integrated black organizations that lent a support system have begun to crumble, resulting in confusion and diffusion, mourned Jacqueline.

Sharing some of her views was Alwin Singleton, a black composer from Atlanta. He laughed easily and kept Colony Hall in stitches. "Do you know what morning sickness is?" he asked me once at breakfast. "I am it," he said with a straight face while the rest roared with laughter. I saw the other side of Alwin when he presented his new symphony at Salvidge Library where each evening colonists presented their new works. Alwin asked me to give him an Urdu word that could be the title for a new composition. "Intezar," I told him, a word that means waiting. It is the title of an Urdu poem. He asked me to recite it, and when I did his brown eyes turned still and he listened. When I finished he said, "Intezar will be the title of my new symphony. My music is about waiting. It conjures lapses, moments of silence." Titles, explained Alwin, are merely sources of identification, like names of people. Only through getting to know a person is one able to give that name meaning. A title is also a springboard for crea tivi ty. The choice of a ti tie is something tha t crea tes an image

unto itself. "My titles are often chosen long before any of the music is written, and so are related by association. My music never looks back but always remembers."

To Eva Hoffman, a native of Poland who migrated to America as a child, memories bore deep scars. She had transliterated them in her autobiographical work, Lost in Translation, a book that recorded the pain of growing up in Nazi Poland. Despite the discovery of the New World (Eva rose to an editor'sjob in The New York Times Book Review section), there remained in Eva's face a brooding quality, as if she had not really recovered from the trauma of her memories. At the Colony she was busy doing another book that returned her to the lands of her childhood in Eastern Europe, a personal account of a journey through five countries recording her impressions of the massive transitions.

The search was different among the Americans who had fewer links with the old country. Each one was working out an individual search born out of bewildering choices and conditions. To many of them I remained "an unknown Indian." It did not matter to them why I was the way I was. In their minds a country had little to do with the being of a person. I made little effort to clarify that notion.

For each of us at Macdowell was exulting in our own particular flow. Ifby chance the streams mingled, as it did with Alwin, in a rare moment of sharing, it was exhilaration. One other moment, of lesser in tensi ty perha ps, was forged when Kris tin Jones, a pain tersculptor, shared with me her time in India. Seeing me brought back for her that evening in Kerala when she had watched an all-night dance performance. There were only six persons in the audience and no applause after the show ended. Kristin was stunned when she learnt that such things did not matter. The dancers were dancing not for an audience but for God! "That was the moment when I understood what it meant to be an artist," exclaimed Kristin. My presence in Macdowell refurbished for her an old memory, made her look at the mirror yet once again.

0 ClockwiseJrom right above: Anees Jung with poet Jacqueline Johnson and composer Alwin Singleton; Jung with 85-year-old composer Louise Talma (a 35-time resident of the Colony); Bill delivering Jung's lunch basket; and artist Ruth Doen Tobey in her studio.

C

hicago, Illinois, is a bustling metropolis of 6.5 million people. It is located on Lake Michigan and has a lakefront of 40 kilometers, most of which is occupied by parks, museums, and recreation areas. The city's skyline is dotted with skyscrapers, including the IIO-story, 443-meter-high Sears Tower, the world's tallest. (Chicago built the world's first skyscraper in the 1880s.)

Although historically trade, especially in grain and livestock, has been a fundamental of its economy, Chicago now is a hub of industry, finance, and commerce. This is reflected in the fact that its O'Hare International Airport is the world's busiest, serving 156,000 passengers a day. The city is also a major cultural and educational center. The IOI-year-old Chicago Symphony Orchestra ranks among the world's best and the Art Institute of Chicago is one of America's four largest art museums. Chicago has 95 institutions of higher learning, including the world-famous University of Chicago. Some 30 Nobel laureates have been associated with the university. The city has 123 hospitals, nine TV and 31 radio stations, and two major daily newspapers.

0

Right: Max Adler Planetarium, designed by architect Ernest Grunsfeld, Jr., set off by a four-meter-high bronze sundial, designed by British sculptor Henry Moore.

Far right: South Lagoon, Lincoln Park.

Below: A neighborhood on Chicago's north side.

CHICAGO continued

LIFE ALONG THE

LAKE

Robin Williams Getting

Serious On a movie set, Robin Williams wears two heads. When the camera rolls, he is an actor of great authority and accomplishment. Between takes, he is himself, or a stand-up version of himself, giving little performances for his fellow performers.

These cameos, at the very least, are endearingly silly-the sound of his mind at idle-and occasionally so startling that his peers wonder, as audiences have been wondering for more than a decade, if he is working off his left brain, his right brain, or instructions from outer space.

For a sense of how quick he can be, there's a remark he tossed off on the set of Awakenings. a movie drama based on a book of medical case studies by the neurologist Oliver Sacks. Awakenings. which was released in December 1990, costars Robert De Niro as a patient who, by the late 1960s,when the action takes place, has spent three decades in a coma; Williams is the doctor-modeled on the intense, idiosyncratic Sacks-who brings him back to life. One gray winter afternoon in 1989, toward the end of a long, grueling stretch oflocation filming at an old psychiatric facility in Brooklyn, the director, Penny Marshall, felt as drained as the cast and crew.

"It's so hard shooting in a mental hospital," she said, except that the phrase, slurred by fatigue, came out as "menstrual hospital."

"Yes, and shooting a period picture," Williams chimed in brightly, no pause to ponder the play on words, no more than nanoseconds between her slip and his lip.

Then there's his behavior one morning at the Columbia Pictures lot in Culver City, California, on a tiny, crowded set representing a video shop. The movie was The Fisher King. in which Williams plays a homeless man who once was a professor of medieval history and is now charismatically mad; the cast includes Jeff Bridges and Amanda Plummer. In the scene being shot, Williams's character, Parry, first meets Plummer's Lydia, an ugly duckling whom he has idealized at a distance as his inamorata. Between takes, Williams played to the other actors or to the director, Terry Gilliam.

He didn't do anything startling this time, just snippets from

Stand-up comic. Dramatic actor.

Robin Williams is a split personality who is at his best when both talents meet.

Robin Williams portrays an iconoclastic schoolteacher in Dead Poets Society (left) and a raucous rock 'n' roll disk jockey in Good Morning, Vietnam (far left).

his stand-up scrapbook [of public personalities].

Yet his clowning had a calming effect on everyone, including himself, for the scene was tricky to shoot and, at the point when Parry and Lydia look into each other's eyes, heart-stoppingly delicate to play. During one break in the filming, he was a fatuous British director, "exploring the essence of what we call cinema!"

During another, he was a bubbly Broadway choreographer: "All right, people, let's keep that energy up!" Through it all, he kept switching, with eerie virtuosity, between the silliness of a court jester and the stillness of an actor, a superb actor who won backto-back Oscar nominations-for Good Morning, Vietnam and Dead Poets Society-and who is becoming a genuine star.

The jester first came to prominence in the 1970s with stand-up appearances that were legendary for their perfervid pace and wild, associative leaps; it was Williams's comedy work that led to his sensational television debut as Mork, the ardent, naive extraterrestrial of Mork and Mindy. But watching him in a club or a concert could also be scary. The jester's improvisational method seemed tinged with madness. (Williams now speaks openly of the drugs and alcohol he once abused, and uses no more.)

Since then, his act has grown much sharper and less frenetic, though the free associations, the intuitive leaps can still leave audiences breathless. When writers describe his comedy, they usually fall back on such metaphors as synaptic storms, jazz riffs, and computers, though computers are stumblebums when it comes to intuitive leaps. In an introduction to her television interview with him in 1989, Barbara Walters said: "You can't help wondering how his mind works, how he got this way." It was the right question, even though the phrasing suggested an affliction instead of a blessing, and the show didn't come up with any answers.

Do answers exist? "I wouldn't have known how to talk about the process a few years ago," Williams told me. "I would have said I don't know what happens, it just happens."

These days, though, he is more reflective, with lots of good fortune to reflect on: His soaring career in feature films, a happy second marriage, a three-year-old daughter named Zelda [and a son, Cody, not yet a year old]. (He has a nine-year-old son, Zachary, by his first marriage.) Toward the end of shooting on

The Fisher King, he spent hours-first at his rented Malibu beach house and later at his bay-front San Francisco home-in a calm, earnest exploration of how the process works. He also demonstrated it, with unquenchable glee.

A conversation with Robin Williams can stay calm for a long time. He loves to play with abstract ideas, and he's a good listener. Sometimes he's so good that you getthe impression of an emotional mirror: If you're up, he's up-way up. A conversation can also turn suddenly into a seance, as a host of characters pop out of his mouth: Chico Marx, Henry VIII, Sylvester Stallone, or Albert Einstein, plus nameless but vivid Nazis, Southern belles, redneck hunters, Jewish mothers, ghetto blacks, and tight-jawed WASPs. Here is Williams as Chico, critiquing a Picasso: Hey, thatsa no good! Where's the rest of the lady? She 'sa gotta no breasts!

Yet the metaphor of a spirit medium is as misleading as that of a computer. It's not that other characters speak through him, but that he speaks, thinks, and improvises through other characters.

Take the business with Chico, which came into being one night the way much of Williams's material is born, while he was fooling around in front of friends. He began, he recalls, by setting forth a cockeyed premise-the Marx brothers selling modern art. That suggested the invincibly uncultivated Chico; his impression got a quick laugh-laughter is always the fuel, Williams says-and he was off and running: Hey, thata Henry Moore, he'sa gotta no stomach. That Botero, thatsa terrible, thata lady's too fat, she look like a Michelin women! Hey, I say get me a dolly and whaddya bring me back? Thatsa watch melting on a tree! I say get me a mirror, you get me a Mira. Ilooka in that and I don't see me, I see a red dot!

Williams likens this to ventriloquism without a dummy. The analogy is an intricate one, since it means he plays tricks on himself, as well as on the audience. By using an alter ego, he liberates himself, relaxes himself so he can invent freely. In a sense, he absolves himself of responsibility for inventing new material on his own; it's the other guy, the compulsively gabby

Robin Williams

continued

character, who triggers the specific ideas.

"First you're aware that you're doing this impression-Hey, thatsa no good-and all of a sudden you're aware of making this guy talk about something very esoteric, making him make references, and then you wonder, 'Where did that Botero reference come from?' " Finding comedy through character is only part of what Robin Williams does. Another part is a pell-mell process of associative thinking, a process so playful, fluid, and free that he can make that instant connection, say, between a menstrual hospital and a period picture.

But character is central, indeed essential, to what he does, and to the way he thinks. For another example, we are sitting in his living room in San Francisco discussing Oliver Sacks, the author of AH'akenings (and also of the recent best-seller, The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat). Williams speaks with great feeling of how lonely the British-born neurologist must have been as a brilliant child in English private schools. Yes, I say, and a Jewish child in the bargain. Instantly Williams is off and running again, in the character of an unctuously antiSemitic English headmaster: We're so happy to have you and all that, but Gawd, I'm sorry H'edon't have any of your food heah. What is it that you people actually eat? And will you be doing any of your rituals while you're heah? Some of us would like to come watch if you do any sacrifices or anything like that. Gawd we know you're a traveling people. Did you bring any ofyour your accoutrements? Any of your tents or things? Just kidding. Teddy, oh Teddy, do come dOll'/1stairs, a young Jewish boy's come to see us.

Such seemingly effortless-and mordant-improvisation can be a marvel to behold. It could also be hopelessly intimidating to behold, were it not for Williams's candor about how hard he actually works, and how often instant inspiration eludes him. He talks of the fear that can still paralyze him for brief moments on stage, and of the willpower needed to keep that fear under control when new ideas are slow to come ....

When Robin Williams, who is 41 years old, first discovered improvisational comedy as a young man in San Francisco in the early 1970s, he believed, as most people do, that whole routines were invented on the spot: "I used to go watch the Committee"-a ground-breaking improvisational troupe"and always thought, 'Oh, God, that's so brilliant.' I didn't realize some of it was scripted and they may have been doing that scene for the past three years."

This is not to say that the best sleight-of-mind wizards don't pluck some topical inventions from thin air. Williams did it with me several times, for instance, when I mentioned the Hubble Space Telescope. Had he seen an article in that morning's paper about the possibility of fitting the orbiting instrument with a corrective lens? He hadn't, but that didn't keep him from immediately thinking aloud about a cosmic eye chart, then becoming the telescope itself as it squinted to read:

Alpha, Alpha Centauri, that's all / can see-then a sudden switch to a voice he uses frequently, that of HAL, the wounded, one-eyed computer in 200I-send up comfort drops, Dave, it hurts, I have to take the lens out.

A skeptic might wonder ifhe really had seen the story in that morning's paper and was passing off flash-frozen goods for fresh. But apart from the unlikelihood of such a tactic-guile isn't one of Williams's gifts-it's beside the point. Pure invention is the exception rather than the rule in improvisational comedy, which has always been a patchwork of old and new.

Part of the fun comes from the invisible weaving.

Nevertheless, the greatest pleasure for the performer, the payoff for all the angst and perspiration, comes from making discoveries while the audience is watching. For Williams, it's like a runner's high: "That's why going on stage is so exhilarating for me. When you find that new idea, when you come up with a concept and find that it works, it's the creation of the moment that's so incredible.

"And you know, they've discovered there actually is a slight endorphin release during creative moments. It's like, Bing!, this

Long Night's Journey into Laughter

Johnny Carson (above) with Elizabeth Taylor on a "Tonight Show" segment last February, and (right) as Carnac the Magnificent.

"Free at last, free at last! a head does not need a body to survive!" chortles Robin Williams as the disembodied King of the Moon in Terry Gilliam's previous picture, The Adventures of Baron Munchausen. It's a vivid comic turn (and an uncredited one) that few have seen, since the movie was a fascinating mess that never found an audience; the King's Italianate head, with

its powdered wig and powdered face, lives a life of the mind quite apart from his body, which carries on like a bloated, brainless satyr.

Williams's own body is in great shape. A track star in school, he continues to run regularly and to work out in a gym. All the same, it's his head that has freed him to explore topical comedy, and this sets him apart from the other comic genius of his generation, Richard Pryor, a man who reached heights of brilliance by plumbing the depths of rage and pain in his own heart.

To be sure, the contrast can be overdrawn: Pryor wouldn't have succeeded without his superb intelligence; Williams wouldn't have succeeded without his abiding passion. Yet there is a world of difference between these two men, and the subject of Pryor prompts Williams to praise his colleague lavishly, while offering a cautious, conflicted appraisal of himself: "He has this incredible ability to recognize the most basic human truths, to talk about deep-seated fears. I've never been able to talk personally about things, some of the negative things that obviously happened in my life. Some day I will. I'll be able to talk about them and make them funny, or at least get them

or three decades, Johnny Carson put America to bed with a collective smile on its face. In 1962, at the age of 36, Carson took over from comic Jack Paar as host of NBC television's "The Tonight Show." The show is broadcast nationally, beginning at 10:30or II :30 in most areas of the United States, and is the last thing that millions of Americans watch before going to sleep each night.

When he retired from the program in May on his 4,531st show, Carson said, "I am one of the lucky people in the world. I found something I always wanted to do and I have enjoyed every single minute of it."

"The Tonight Show" made Carson America's most famous, and influential, comedian. His program was a showcase for emerging talent, providing countless young entertainers an opportunity to appear before a large national audience. Carson was instrumental in launching the careers of many comedians, among them Jay Leno, who has succeeded him as host, and Robin Williams, who appeared on his show several times over the years and returned for a farewell appearance on his second to last program.

The format was always the same. Announcer and longtime sidekick Ed McMahon, to the brassy accompaniment of a live studio band, would introduce Carson each night with a lusty, "Heeeerre's Johnny."

Carson would sweep out from behind a curtain and launch into a fiveminute monologue of jokes about the news and personalities, fads and foibles of the day. After a commercial break, Carson would take his seat behind a desk and invite, one-by-one, his guests-a mix of singers, musicians, actors, writers, the occasional politican or famous scientist-to come out and sit on the couch at his right. Sometimes they would perform, but mostly they would talk about their lives and their current activities. It was in these one-on-one chats that Carson's knack for establishing instant rapport with stars and his genius for off-the-cuff humor would sparkle. Sometimes he would perform a skit himself, donning the guise of one of his well-honed caricatures,

such as Carnac the Magnificent, a bumbling magician.

In fact Carson, who was born in the midwest state of Iowa, began his career as a magician and a radio announcer. He held a succession of local broadcast jobs before becoming a comedy writer and then performer on network television in the mid-1950s. He did not invent the late night interview/entertainment format, but he perfected it, leaving a long line of imitators in his wake.

The months leading up to Carson's departure-he had announced it a year in advance-produced a flurry of nostalgic press comment, something he himself referred to in his bittersweet final show: "Look at the bright side," he said. "You won't have to read or see one more story about my leaving this show."

One of the underlying themes in all the media coverage-the competing television networks also lauded the entertainer-was how very little the public knew the real Johnny Carson. "Expect no maudlin Final Interviews from him," said Rolling Stone magazine.

"Whatever he must say he will say on 'The Tonight Show,' where he has kept to himself for 30 years. ('I will not even talk to myself without an appointment,' he once noted.) Carson, we accept, is the most public of private men, and vice versa, and that is only part of his peculiar genius for longevity."

Another reason for his longevity, according to New York Times drama critic Frank Rich, is that "unlike most fixtures in the showbusiness firmament, he has never patronized the audience or sold out.

"While 'The Tonight Show' is often an orgy of self-promotion, its host, the cool eye in the hurricane of hype, is not himself a selfpromoter. Carson has never shilled for the political and corporate establishment..., and he has never done commercials away from his own show, whether for a product or for himself.. .."

Carson was once asked what made him a star. "I started out in a gaseous state," he replied, "and then I cooled." And all those who watched him were warmed.

0

is part of evolution. Eventually the brain figured out"-he assumes a deep, slightly robotized voice-"If you create, we'll reinforce you. This and sex. You can see why Einstein always looked like"-he finishes the thought as a blissed-out German-"Ah, it was good for me."

I laugh, of course, and he is glad to have the laughter, as always. "That means creation is a drug! It is a drug, and it was designed that way, evolution-wise to make that Bing!" But he is also profoundly serious about this passion for discovering new ideas, which explains why he still loves to work out, often unannounced, in comedy clubs. It may also explain why he has been confessing, for more than a decade, that his greatest problem in stand-up is getting off stage.

F

Robin Williams

continued

As his movie performances grow more complex, it is tempting to think of Robin Williams as a comic prodigy. In reality, he had been a trained actor well before hitting it big in comedy clubs. out. But that's such a Pandora's box. Once you open it, can you deal with it? With your insecurities and your pains? Of course, it isn't that there's a lot of pain. I was an only child who grew up in an uppermiddle-class neighborhood. The joke is I played with myself and that was it."

In the portrait that's usually drawn of Robin Williams's family, the most conspicuous element is the gilded frame. His father, Robert, who died five years ago, was a Ford Motor Company executive. Robin was an excellent student, as well as a fine athlete. Be was also shy and lonely as a boy; his mother, Laurie, who had done some acting as a young woman in New Orleans, often worked as a fashion model.

Williams's first performance came at the age of about 12, when he started entertaining his mother with imitations and little routines. Laurie Williams was a great audience. More than that, she was a comic in her own right. "She was always funny," her son says. "She had the jokes and the poems, all the things that people have been seeing her do on talk shows."

A conversation with his mother, who lives in suburban San Francisco, dispels any doubt about where Robin Williams got his energy and sense of fun. She talks of her love of taking chances, her belief that "man was put on Earth to k.now great joy." She reminisces about an invitational dance at the' Lake Forest-Lake Bluff (Illinois) Bath and Tennis Club, where she arrived in an elegant dress but with her two front teeth obscured

by Black Jack gum: "All the women were going, 'You'd think someone who could afford clothes like that could afford to get her teeth fixed.' " And what of his father? At first, Robin recalls him in terms that suggest how remote Robert Williams must have seemedelegant, ethical, quiet. Laurie Williams uses distanced descriptions, too: "His father was strict and stern, but very fair, and Robin adored him."

Yet there was another side to this cool, handsome patrician, and it set him apart from his fellow executives in the Motor City. Robert Williams had been born to wealth, but his family's fortune, based on strip mines and lumber interests, was squandered to the point that he was forced to work in the strip mines himself. Though he made it back to the top by dint of talent and hard work, he remained a deep-dyed cynic for the rest of his life.

"He was this wonderful, elegant man who thought the world was going to hell in a hand basket," Williams says. "It was basically, 'You can't trust them. Watch out for them. They'll nail ya. Everybody's out to nail ya.' " So a rich kid Robin was, but one who grew up with

intimations of an alternate reality lurking behind the fancy facade; maybe that's why his best comedy routines are those that work electrifying variations on the blandness of everyday life. Whatever the connections, Williams feels he is just beginning to understand them, and to see his father clearly as a man.

"I realize what he gave me is what's been working now in some of these dramatic movies," he says. "He had a great stillness and a power to him, a great kind of...I can only use the word depth. He knew exactly what and where he'd been, who he was and why he did certain things. He was never pushed along.

If things weren't done the way he felt was right, he left. That's coming into play now when I do movies like Dead Poets Society, and I find myself thinking, 'That's for you, Pop.''' As Robin Williams's movie performances grow deeper and more complex, it's tempting to think of him as a comic prodigy who somehow taught himself to play other people. In reality, he had been a trained actor well before hitting it big in comedy clubs-three years' study on a scholarship at Juilliard School in New York, where the rigorous curriculum includes voice, movement, and character, from the theater's roots in ancient Greece to the present day. Those tools enriched his stand-up work, just as his comic instincts and his genius for improvisation eventually made him a better actor. But he hasn't found it easy to get his jester head and his actor head together.

"Stand-up is aggressive," he says. "Attack! Get the laugh!

People always talk about it as a defense mechanism, and it's usually true. You're trying to keep the world out by being aggressively funny, or by mocking it, because somewhere along the line, when you let it in, it hurt. In acting, though, you have to take that chance, you've got to let things in. Because a lot of it is about being hurt; or being joyous, but letting emotions come in and affect you."

Twelve years ago, when Williams first moved from' Mork and Mindy into feature films, Hollywood saw him as a wild man whose wildness could never be harnessed in the service of other characters. That was hardly the 'problem, though, in his first movie, Popeye, a failed fantasy that let him display his gift for mimicry and little more. Williams, who did a perfect imitation of Popeye's metallic cartoon voice, seemed sandbagged by a witless script and elaborate prosthetics-the squinting eye, the. bulging plastic forearms. And some genuine wildness might have helped The World According to Garp, an erratic castration fantasy in which he was forced to play second banana to a passel of predatory women.

In another flop called The Survivors, he gave a brave performance as a gun-crazed executive, but it was too much of a good thing in such a rickety vehicle. What he needed was challenging material and a director who could help him focus his unique vitality without losing it. The first time he found both was as a Russian jazz saxophonist who migrates to New York in Moscow on the Hudson, the exuberant topical comedy directed by Paul Mazursky (see SPAN, August 1992).

"At the time I first knew Robin, he was very manic," recalls

Mazursky, who used to be a stand-up comic himself. "We went to several comedy clubs together, and actually once I agreed to go on stage with him, but he was so funny I ran. On the set, I always felt what I had to work at was getting the tension out, and I think we did it, even though we had a couple of shouting matches at the beginning where I'd say, 'It's too much!' and he'd say, 'It's not anything!' I like the man very much. He's very sweet, and he's obviously somebody who wants to keep growing. He has a desperate need to be wonderful."

Williams's first box-office hit, Good Morning, Vietnam, made room for his manic energy by allowing him to improvise whole scenes in the character of Adrian Cronauer, the antiestablishment, motor-mouthed military disk jockey. But those improvised riffs, as presented on screen, rarely built beyond mania and funny voices, while the scripted scenes exploited Williams's own sweetness by sanctifying his character; Cronauer came off as a high-I.Q. God's fool.

Not until 1989 was Robin Williams able to integrate his various gifts in a feature film, the hugely popular Dead Poets Society. For all its obvious contrivances, Dead Poets dramatized human concerns rarely addressed by Hollywood-love of learning, passion for living-and it is almost impossible to imagine the movie without Williams's performance as John Keating, the renegade English teacher in a tradition-bound boarding school. He brought the stillness and the depth that he had found in his father, but he also mixed in his own nimble intelligence, a smidgeon of shtick-impressions of Brando and of John Wayne as Macbeth-and a beautifully modulated version of the passion that audiences had first seen, without quite knowing what to make of it, in the young Mork.

If the life of the mind enriched Dead Poets Society, it dominates Awakenings, in which Williams plays a neurologist who uses the drug L-dopa to free another intelligence that had been trapped in a body turned to stone by disease. When Williams talks about the character he plays, he sounds as ifhe is describing an extravagant fictional creation, a sort of shy, more cerebral Falstaff. Yet Oliver Sacks isn't fictional at all, even if a few of the facts of his life border on the bizarre.

"To play him was an amazing combination of things," Williams says. "He's Schweitzer and Schwarzenegger, a gentle man who used to squat-press 600 pounds. He's incredibly shy, but aggressive in how he pursues an idea. He's got this amazing mind, but sometimes he can barely speak. He has his own microclimate that he needs to function perfectly-60 degrees, sometimes 70, but if it goes beyond that he overheats, like a penguin. So you see him sitting there watching the dailies, a big guy on a tiny little stool with a giant ice bag on his head that says 'Author,' and you go, 'O.K., that's it, good night, everybody, so much for art imitating life.'''

That's an arresting description of a man, but it's also a description of an acting challenge. During the first three weeks of rehearsal, art imitated life fairly literally. "I was playing him full out, complete with the accent and mannerisms," Williams

says. Then the director, Penny Marshall, encouraged him to drop some of the literal behavior and put more of himself into the character. A decision was also made to change the character's name from Sacks to Sayer-a small matter, but a liberating one. "It freed both him and me simultaneously, relaxed a certain standoff," Williams says, "because Oliver had been coming to the set all the time to help us, and for him it was like walking into a three dimensional mirror."

Sacks discusses this surreal experience with great humor, but he makes no bones about his misgivings. "I was a little scared when I learned that someone with such powers of apprehension as Robin was getting me as a subject," Sacks recalls, "because he does have this extraordinary, at times involuntary, power of mimicry. No, mimicry is the wrong word. He just sort of takes in the entire repertoire of a person: Their voice, gestures, movements, idiosyncrasies, habits. He gets you."

The subject's misgivings grew as Williams worked on the exterior aspects of his character. "It was like a twin," Sacks says, "like encountering someone with the same impulses as one's own. I'd see his hand on his head in a strange way, then I'd realize that was my hand. But I hasten to add that this was an early and transient stage, a mirroring that gave way to much deeper and richer and unexpected development."

Sacks insists that he learned less about Williams than Williams learned about him: "It's in the nature of things that the subject does not get to know his portrayer." Before production began, however, the two men spent long hours together visiting Sacks's patients, and the doctor's observations of the actor are acute: "At first, I couldn't always tell his feelings to me, but I saw his feelings to the patients, who sort of glowed under his curiosity, and his sense of fun, and his inability to posture. He met one patient, a man named Shane, who has Tourette's syndrome, and he and Shane were instant brothers. Robin would sometimes say of Shane that Shane made him feel more alive, that Shane was life itself. But I think exactly the same is true of Robin.

"I don't mean to suggest that he has Tourette's. Clearly he doesn't. But just as clearly, there's some part of him which is unconscious and preconscious, with an extraordinary rapidity and explosiveness. It suddenly comes out. It has a mind of its own. It is and isn't under control. The 'it' I'm talking about is a form of genius, of course, and this rush up from the depths is characteristic of genius. What sometimes comes up out of' Robin is planetary, volcanic-it's the geology of the human psyche. This hot stuff from the center of his psyche suddenly comes through."

On the face of it, Sacks is describing a different person from the thoughtful, often quiet man I met in California. But volcanoes needn't erupt constantly to maintain their active status. What seems to have come over Robin Williams is a recent and nourishing calm, at least offstage; indeed, a belief that such a place as offstage exists. The two most obvious reasons for this change are his marriage to his second wife, Marsha, who is a painter and sculptor with an academic (Text continued on page 39)

One Man's Crusade

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Joseph Kinney (above) is trying to secure for other Americans the one thing th~t might have saved his brother-safety in the workplace.

Want to know why so many American workers die needlessly on the job? Ask Joseph Kinney.

It's all he talks about.

First he'll tell you of his days in the Marine Corps in Vietnam, how his officers were held directly accountable for the men who died under them, how that sensitized them. Then he'll talk about businessmen.

"The trouble with corporate executives is that they don't write enough next-of-kin letters," he says in a flat, accusatory voice.

"They don't go and talk to grieving widows. They don't go and teach little boys how to throw [a ball]. They don't go and give girls away at weddings. Maybe if they were more in touch with the damage-just the social damagewe wouldn't have this big a problem."

Kinney, the most frequently quoted authority on worker safety in the United States, never planned on becoming a zealot.

He was a livestock consultant who worked profitably with cattle. Today he works compulsively with ghosts. Ghosts like Robert Campbell, a carpenter who was crushed when a crane boom line snapped in Idaho. Or Charles Elliot, a rubber worker who was asphyxiated while working in a carbon pit in Kansas. Or Brett Von Herbulis, a construction worker who died in a cave-in while digging a trench in Florida.

The ghosts began coming into Kinney's life in 1986 when his 26year-old brother, Paul, fell off some weak construction scaffolding in Denver, went into a coma, and died. The family said it was From

The Los Angeles Times. Copyright

Los Angeles

Times.

Reprinted

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by permission.

1990

God's will. Kinney wouldn't buy it. There was a reason here, he thought, and he would find it.

What he found was that ten to 20 Americans die on their jobs every day and that the agency established to protect them, the federal Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA), had become one of the worst casualties of the Reagan Administration's war against government regulations.

Businesses responsible for accidents were fined paltry sums. Criminal prosecution was almost nonexistent.

Proposed regulations were rare and languished in the bureaucracy for years.

Kinney, an intense, plainfaced, potbellied man, looked around for an organization devoted to helping people like him.

He couldn't find one. So in mid1987, he put his consulting business aside and started the National Safe Workplace Institute.

He threw so much cold rage into the institute that he became not merely a persuasive advocate but a hero. Many people who have met Kinney celebrate him as a wounded bulldog who kept pounding his fist against the system until it paid attention to his assault on "the cultural accommodation of workplace death."

When two U.S. senators introduced bills to encourage prosecution of negligent companies and force the agency to pay more attention to families of accident victims, they extensively quoted Kinney's critical studies of OSHA. Congressional staffers called Kinney in search ofsympathetic witnesses. OSHA's new director invited him to address a senior staff meeting. Three na-

tional organizations with diverse and sometimes conflicting interests-labor, construction, and chemical safety-gave him their annual work-safety awards. And network news programs sought out his opinions on topics ranging from construction hazards to the question of whether an employer should be able to bar women of child-bearing age from certain jobs.

The honors pour in because Kinney has taken a subject that is often abstract and personalized it with uncommon righteousness.

From a small Chicago office, his nonprofit, grant-funded institute spins anecdotes and statistics into a flurry of reports asserting that many cases of onthe-job deaths and occupational disease stem from gaps in industrial planning, worker training, and government inspection, as well as from an unspoken social philosophy that treats work injury as simply a part of the job.

Kinney has, for example, used international labor statistics to calculate that the United States has a worker death rate three to four times higher than the former Federal Republic of Germany and France. He has conducted a survey finding that half of the families of dead workers are' never shown the OSHA investigative report. He has helped block a major construction contract with his safety research. He has published a book called Faces that talks simply but movingly about the personal lives of scores of workers killed in a wide variety of jobs. The title is fitting. Kinney never tells a story without a face.

"Joe is the one person responsible more than anyone else in

this country for bringing this issue to the public's attention," says Los Angeles County District Attorney Ira Reiner, one of a handful of county prosecutors nationwide to develop programs aimed specifically at prosecuting employer negligence that leads to worker deaths and injuries.

Kinney's critics claim he takes liberties with statistics, but the purity of his mission-"my moral license"-is unassailable. He does not hesitate to play to it.

"My accountability is to the ghosts," he says. "My brother, my fellow Marines, and all the people I've become intimately connected with by learning about the circumstances of their deaths at work. When I get to be a ghost, then I want to get lots of pats on the back. I want my little brother to say, 'You did good.'''

In part, Kinney's success is a cautionary tale. The fact that he could become a major player in such a short time underscores how relatively little shouting is done on behalf of workplace safety. Had Kinney thrown himself into, say, the environmental movement, he would scarcely have been noticed amid thousands of other voices.

America's grasp of the problem is surprisingly unsophisticated. Nobody actually counts how many people die on the job.

The Bureau of Labor Statistics estimates that about 3,000 die each year, but the National Safety Council's estimate is almost twice as high. Each year nearly three million American workers in private industry suffer on-the-job injuries resulting in lost or restricted work time. The number of days that an average

worker can expect to lose from occupational injury and illness during the year has risen 42 percent since 1973.

Kinney's outrage at needless pain began in Vietnam. The war left a complex edge. It shaped the man who can at one moment savor the intellectual side of life, recalling an old college professor's lecture about "the presenttime orientation of the lower classes," and then advise two young staffers to focus their energies with these words: "Remember, you're either moving toward your target or you're killing your target."

Kinney went to war because his dad-a schoolteacher-and his grandfather had been in the Army and because two uncles had been in the Marines. Vietnam was a generational obligation. He enlisted in the Marines as soon as he graduated from high school in Wichita, Kansas, in 1967. His first letters home praised the war as a defense of America. His last one, sent to the U.S. Secretary of Defense, called it a waste.

Kinney had been there nearly a year when his infantry platoon was ambushed one night. He was hit in the right leg and chest. He couldn't breathe. A priest asked if he wanted last rites. He came home. He was lucky he had been badly wounded, he realized later.

The insulation of medical treatment spared Kinney the pain of the immediate transition to civilian life.

He decided to go to college.

Even as a kid he had loved to read, to consume information.

He graduated in 1972, then went on for a master's degree in public administration. Along the way he

met the head of the General Services Administration, who offered him a job in Washington, D.C., studying agricultural issues. That led to a staff job with Minnesota Senator Hubert Humphrey and, after Humphrey's death, other congressional staff work.

By 1984, burned out by Washington, Kinney left to set up his livestock consulting business. He also got married and settled in Chicago, where his wife was working. Tales of maladjusted Vietnam veterans were everywhere, but he had made his life whole. "I got together with a couple of guys who were noncommissioned officers in my platoon and I could not remember 90 percent of what they were talking about."

Then one day in the summer of 1986 the phone rang and somebody told Kinney that his kid brother, whose fourth-grade class used to send Joseph drawings and gifts in Vietnam, was on a life-support system in a Denver hospital. Paul Kinney had been stringing fireworks for an Independence Day celebration. He had fallen about ten meters when a scaffold, constructed improperly, collapsed under him. As Kinney would later learn, such scaffolding disasters are not unusual.

Kinney knew a lot about government but he didn't know much about OSHA, which had been created in 1970 but fell into decline in the 1980s as its budget was frozen for six years. He knew how to make phone calls, but had trouble penetrating the OSHA bureaucracy.

Eventually he found out that the building con(Text continued on page 37)

tractor who employed his brother had been fined only $800 by OSHA. In the midst of his anguish he and his wife had a son.

They named him Paul-Claude.

By early 1987Kinney managed to get a meeting with John Pendergrass, then OSHA's director. Kinney tells the story dramatically.

"He was absolutely out of touch with the damage this stuff does to our communities," Kinney said. "As I was leaving I looked at him and-this was spontaneous-I said, 'I suspect I'll be spending upward of 30 hours a week on this issue for the next ten years.' " Pendergrass defends himself by characterizing Kinney as a man too obsessed by his brother's death to be a credible safety analyst.

Kinney's institute, financed by a few small grants, was in business by May 1987. Its reports, written on a tightrope between disciplined scholarship and emotional urgency, poured forth.

One of them, a 6O-page memo on a huge Midwest waste-water project where ten construction workers died over two years, helped persuade OSHA in 1988 to levy its largest fine ever against a contractor and ultimately persuaded a local agency to reject one of the firms involved on a new project, even though the contractor submitted the lowest bid.

Another report charged OSHA with cloaking a "pitifully weak" enforcement program behind highly publicized proposed fines that the agency later settled for a pittance.

Kinney also targeted a rapidly growing steel maker with a frighteningly high fatality rate. He jumped on Domino's pizza for accidents allegedly caused by the firm's 30-minute-delivery

limit. He rounded up victims to publicize OSHA's IS-year delay in regulating confined-space work, where fatal exposure to toxic gases can occur within minutes.

In all of these instances and others, Kinney promoted his work to news reporters with considerably more tenacity and passion-to say nothing of moral license-than either academics or organized labor had previously done. He became a one-man resource center. For example, his 1988 report on the laxity of state

"My accountability is to the ghosts.

My brother... and all the people I've become intimately connected with by learning about the circumstances of their deaths at work."

and federal prosecution of employers responsible for workplace negligence quickly led to newspaper articles.

Kinney had built his reputation and helped define a problem.

But there was little to indicate that much government response would be forthcoming. Then in 1989 President Bush made Elizabeth Dole his Labor Secretary and Dole appointed a lifelong advocate of work safety, Gerard Scannell, to be head QfOSHA. Months before he was confirmed by the U.S. Senate, Scannell-an OSHA official in the 1970s who had spent the last ten years as safety and environmental director at Johnson & Johnson, a health-care and phar-

maceutical company-made two pilgrimages to Kinney's office.

Once confirmed, Scannell invited Kinney to speak at a Miami conference of his 250 senior OSHA managers.

"If someone's out there hurling grenades at us, I'm going to stop the meeting and invite him in," says Scannell, who is fond of exhorting business leaders to "look at every accident as if it is a management-system failure."

"Scannell's different," Kinney says. "He was a naval underwater demolitions expert. I think he probably understands responsibility fairly well. I like the direction. " Kinney and others still regard OSHA as ineffective because of restrictions on its power and budget. But, relatively speaking, the agency has been gaining speed.

It has made multimillion-dollar fines almost routine. It has begun developing guidelines to control repetitive-motion injuries, set new standards to crack down on poorly constructed construction trenches, and created a separate Office of Construction to monitor the building industry, which accounts for 2,500 deaths a year and has the highest injury and illness rate of all major industries.

In 1988, an OSHA spokesman reacted to one of Kinney's reports by saying it was "filled with inaccuracies." An illustration of how times had changed occurred in April 1990when Scannell went to Chicago to testify at a hearing .• on~ bilLthat Illinois SenatoJ Paul Simon introduced at Kinney's behest. The bill would require OSHA to let families of accident victims meet with OSHA investigators and to participate in settlement conferences with employers. Instead of opposing the bill,

Scannell used his testimony to announce that he had implemented many of Kinney's proposals by administrative fiat three days earlier.

Now Kinney is getting antsy and talks about moving on. He only pays himself $34,000 from the $250,000 he gets in grants and he would like ajob that would let him spend more time with his son. He talks wistfully about "institutionalizing" his institute, letting the staff and a new director run it. But then, ever the prisoner of the "sniper mentality" he says he brought home from Vietnam, he spots new targets: "Right now I know outside the chemical industry of only .one Fortune 500 company where the safety-health guy is a vice president. I know of only one company that talks about safety and health of employees in its annual report, Dow Chemical. I'd like to see the Harvard University Business School do case studies on the real costs to businesses in safety and health calamities.

"I'd like to see the big business schools bring in some of these right-wing ideologues that they canonized in the 1980s and let's have a debate on what's happened to these companies that have been downsized by acquisitions and mergers-what that's meant to safety training programs, risk' assessment? Why don't we have OSHA set a requirement where anybody who wants to buy a company is going to have to talk about tbes~ issues?We needto be lik.ethe environmentalists, in terms of forcefully advocating these points of view."

0 About the Author: Bob Baker is a writer specializing in labor affairs with The Los Angeles Times.

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The Paradise Island Express delivered a lively package of American musical theater to standing-room only auditoriums in New Delhi Aug ust 31-September 1,then steamed off for appearances in Bombay (September 11-12), Madras (September 20 and 22), Bangalore (September 23-24), and Calcutta (September 25-26). The troupefour singers and two directors-from Washington, D.C.,is presenting two shows, "Fascinating Rhythms" and "A Broadway Songbook."

"Fascinating Rhythms" focuses on the 1920s and 1930s, a period known as the Golden Age of Broadway, when some of America's best composers-among them George Gershwin, Jerome Kern, and Irving Berlin-helped raise musical theater to the status of serious art.

"A Broadway Songbook" covers the past 80 years of American musical theater, showcasing such classics as Jerome Kern's "Show Boat," Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein's "Oklahoma," and Leonard Bernstein's "West Side Story." It also highlights the work of such contemporary composers as Stephen Sondheim.

Sanjay Chedda and Rekha Bhagat, born, brought up, and living in the United States, were recently in India to work as interns with the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) in New Delhi.

Chedda, a management graduate from the Stanford Business School, worked on a proposed USAID project on India's economic reforms called RESET (restructuring of enterprises and trade). He said that when the project is implemented, it would "have far-reaching implications." The USAIDexperience, he added, has broadened his focus and enabled him to participate in his own way in the development of India.

Chedda, who has a degree in

Investment in girls' education in the developing world will result not only in social benefits, but in enormous economic benefits as well, according to World Bank studies.

Parents in low-income countries currently don't invest in their daughters because "they do not expect them to make an economic contribution to the family: Girls grow up only to marry into somebody else's family and bear children," says World Bank Chief Economist Lawrence H. Summers in an essay, "The Most Influential Investment," in Scientific American. "Girls are thus less valuable than boys and are kept at home to do chores while their brothers are sent to schooL" Summers says educated young women usually decide to have

The songs of the 1920s and 1930s,though created for commercial theater, have endured through the universality of the emotions they embody-fear, joy, sorrow, and love-and have come to be recognized as classics of American culture.

computer science as well as business, plans to join the prestigious Microsoft computer firm in Seattle, Washington.

Chedda's parents immigrated tothe United States in the 1950s. His father, who passed away last month, was a cancer research scientist.

Rekha Bhagat, a graduate of the Wharton School at the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, is currently a candidate for a master's degree in public and private management at Yale University. She worked on another proposed project, Financial Institutions Reform and Expansion (FIRE), which, it is hoped, would help India streamline its capital and stock markets.

Her parents also went to the

United States in the 1950s Bhagat's father is a professor of international relations at the University of Mississippi and her mother teaches at Rust College, Holly Springs, Mississippi.

Bhagat, who last came to India 13 years ago, says this visit enabled herto see the country in a new light. "Many people [in the United States] still have obsolete ideas about India. They are closing themselves to the fact of how much opportunity this country holds. Somebody should go out there and tell them how much everything has changed, especially on the economic front."

She says she is going to do her bit "to change the image of India ...especially among the -Lehar Zaidi NRls."

fewer children, noting that for each year of school female fertility decreases by about ten percent. To illustrate the economic savings in female education, he reports that a year of schooling for 1,000 girls in Pakistan cost $40,000 in 1990, but the 660 births averted at $65 per birth saved close to $43,000.

Equalization education in low-income countries, he argues, would cost $938 million for 25 million girls in primary education and $1,400 million for 21 million in secondary school for a total investment of $2,400 million. "This sum," says Summers, "represents less than one quarter of one percent of the gross domestic product of the lowincome countries, less than one percent of their investment in new capital goods and less than ten percent of their defense spending."

Robin Williams

continuedfrom page 33

background in fine arts, and Now the jester has been their [children]. joined by the actor. In a 30"When he's at home," Marsecond history of evolution, he sha says, "he relaxes, he reads, is the first fish out of water, he absorbs. He shuts down that getting high on a hit of air. Now performing part of himself, he is a precocious simian. This is though of course it comes back followed by a clumsy transiin flashes. And he's finally able tion-the clumsiness of which to extend the relaxation to Williams acknowledges-to sevfriends and others he meets, so eral ordinary gags about Elvis he can carryon more ordinary Presley as the new Christ. For sit-down conversations. There another few minutes he hums are times now when he can relax along at cruising speed, deliverenough to know he's loved even ing lines that he has been refinwhen he's not being funny." ing for months, but making Robin Williams stars as T.S. Carp in The World According Yet onstage exists as ever, and them sound like spontaneous to Garp, afilm about three generations of an American family. for all the newfound happiness in combustion.

Robin Williams's private life,as well as the growing rewards of his By this time he has been on stage for more than half an hour, filmcareer, he continues to need the laughs and ecstatic adventure and it seems he can do no wrong as he plays Jesus, various popes, and a raffish Henry VIII. But a few minutes after that, of stand-up. What's more, he is an unreconstructed child of the 1960s;his concern about political issues and social causes remains when he asks the audience for a new subject to improvise on, intense. "You gotta keep pushing," he says, "you gotta keep someone who is either sloshed or has been outside for a smoke hitting people out there, they're all so lulled...." shouts "Jesus" and stops Williams in his tracks. "I thought we did that," he replies. Someone else suggests Pete Wilson, A balmy summer Thursday in Malibu. After a day off from governor of California. Williams comes up dry on Pete Wilson, shooting The Fisher King, Robin Williams decides to work out. though he makes a stab at doing [baseball player] Pete Rose.

In the evening, he drives down the Pacific Coast Highway and Has the moment come to get off? "This is one of those into West Los Angeles, arriving at a comedy club at about 9:30. nights," he tells the audience, "where you finish the evening in a His appearance has already been arranged with the managepool of your own sweat and go 'What have I been talking about?' " But the evening isn't over by a long shot. He means ment and with his friend Bob Goldthwait, the comic who is now on stage, but to the audience it will be a surprise. what he has said about doing this to practice and to learn, so he Goldthwait is really cooking. In his familiar persona of keeps searching, searching for new ideas, though he can't quite Bobcat, the frantic slob, he works his way through a succession find them. Some of the most affecting moments now are the of topical jokes-rock 'n' roll lyrics, censorship at the National most tentative, as this celebrated comic stumbles gamely.

Endowment for the Arts, [Louisiana politician] David Duke, "Once again, too far," he confesses to the crowd. "Could've gotten off, but Mr. Ego said no." and Louisiana politics. Waiting in the wings, Williams hears Then he notices a pretty young woman who is sitting in front several subjects he had hoped to fool around with himself, and strikes them from his mental list. As Goldthwait starts to wind of him and looking sad. down, Williams feels light-headed and weary; it's almost like "Don't look sad," he tells her. oxygen debt, and he yawns. He often feels this way for a few "She's a lawyer," her male companion answers. moments before going on, and he knows what's behind itWhether this is a non sequitur or some abstruse truth, it's all plain old fear. Soon Goldthwait gets off, an unseen voice Williams needs to ignite and launch. Suddenly he is into ... announces Robin Williams, and he bounds out to the center of lawyer jokes! Subpoena envy! Comedy on trial! He is all over the small stage, greeting an audience that greets him as ifit had the place, a whirling dervish of an attorney pleading his case. He just won the grand prize in the lottery. Suddenly, almost is in comedy court. He is in comedy heaven, putting himself on trial. "I'm talking to you!" he tells the young lawyer with magically, his mind is calm and clear, with oxygen to burn.

He plunges into a subject from the current week's news-the blazing ardor. "I want to make a confession! Yes, I did it!" And opening of the Nixon library. "Welcome to the amnesiac wing," what follows, if truth be told, is another few minutes of amiable he begins, in the voice of a tour guide. "Now, if you'll walk anticlimax, after which he stops, says thank you, waves good through this giant sphincter.. .." For a while he mines a topical night, gets a heartfelt standing ovation, and finally, reluctantly vein: Imelda Marcos, the savings and loans crisis, AIDS. The makes it off stage.

D audience doesn't care if this material sounds slightly familiar after Goldthwait's gloss of current events. Williams senses it, About the Author: Joe Morgenstern is a Los Angeles-based journalist though, and jumps quickly [to a less topical routine]. and screenwriter.

the 1970s and 1980s Gus Hall sought the presidency representing the American Communist Party. Despite the Cold War and America's long-standing antipathy to communism, Hall was able to get his name on some ballots while attracting a sprinkling of votes.

This year, two of the minor parties in the race stand for polar opposite causes.

The Libertarian ticket is headed by Andre Morrou, a little-known former legislator from the state of Alaska. Libertarians advocate drastic reduction in the powers, size, and activities of the federal government. The New Alliance Party, by contrast, argues for a dramatic increase of government action and expenditures, mainly to assist the most impoverished segment of society. Its candidate is Lenora Fulani, an African-American psychologist from New York City whose class-conscious program resembles Marxism. In 1988, the Libertarian and New Alliance groups attracted more votes than any other splinter group (432,000 for the Libertarians, 217,000 for the New Alliance).

The Specter of Racism A third category-giving voice to those who fear social change and racial integration-reappears periodically under different labels. David E. Duke, borrowing the Populist Party title that first appeared a century ago, is a classic example of that third type, trying to lead a charge to the past. One of the group of 17 minor candidates in 1988, he attempted to cast a larger shadow this year. Though he failed to organize successfully for 1992, Duke is interesting because of the dark strand in politics he represents.

Even among the offbeat contenders, who frequently represent splinter groups, Duke stands out as unusual. In his youth, he was a leader, in his home state of Louisiana, of the Ku Klux Klan (KKK), an organization dedicated to the supremacy of white, Christian, native Americans. The KKK, which began after the Civil War as a means of keeping former slaves in an inferior position, survives in a few states as a vestige of racism.

Though he once disseminated neo-

Nazi literature, Duke realized that, in order to have a political career, he would have to give up such hated symbols. So he became-nominally-a Democrat and ran for office. Thwarted in that effort, Duke declared himself a Republican.

Wearing that label, he won a seat in the lower house of the Louisiana legislature.

ThaJ minor post gave him a launching pad for a campaign in 1991 for the far more important position of governor of Louisiana.

Voters there were in an angry mood, hostile toward those in power, mainly

because the state was suffering prolonged economic hardship. Thus Duke survived the primary, besting the Republican incumbent governor. This was an unusual accomplishment for a fringe candidate. In the election's second round last fall, Duke lost to the Democratic candidate, Edwin Edwards. His showing in Louisiana gave him enough momentum to consider a national run again, this time as an opponent to Bush in the Republican presidential primaries.

That way, he could continue to get at least an audience for his opinions as well as collect campaign contributions with which to keep his group going. His intention then was to run a second time in the fall as a Populist, a switch permitted by election laws designed to protect the rights of fringe groups. Duke did so poorly in the Republican primaries, however, that he decided not to launch a third-party campaign.

Advocates like Duke mine a vein of xenophobic nationalism, tinged with racism, that has always been present in American society. This sentiment gains currency when the country is anxious concerning the economy, or when the pace of social change becomes too fast for some people to tolerate comfortably.

Further, the end of the Cold War has tempted some to focus all their attention inward.

In these circumstances, it is relatively easy to preach a message of isolationism and racial division. The most receptive audience for this kind of message consists of people who feel insecure in two vital respects: Their economic standing and the societal standards that color community life. Such people, typically, live in' modest circumstances, have had limited education, and hold strong-often fundamentalist-religious views. They are hardworking, but feel insufficiently rewarded for their efforts. They resent poor people who appear to "get something for nothing" from government agencies just as they resent new immigrants who compete for jobs.

Duke is the latest in a line of protest leaders to base presidential campaigns on some or all of these themes. The first of

these campaigns in modern times occurred in 1948, when the Democratic Party began to fragment on both its right and left flanks. The dispute President Harry Truman had with conservatives in his party focused on civil rights (we will return to the other flank below).

The Democratic Party was moving, at last, to a policy promoting equal treatment of black Americans. For this to work, state and local laws protecting segregation in various forms-and discouraging blacks from voting-would have to be overruled by federal statute, regulation, and court action.

Many southern leaders who had been loyal Democrats since the Civil War could not tolerate these changes, which, ultimately, would mean the end of white supremacy in the South. When the Democratic nominating convention in 1948 enacted the strongest civil-rights plank in the party's history, a southern faction bolted. It quickly created the States' Rights Democratic Party and nominated as its presidential candidate Strom Thurmond, then governor of South Carolina.

The new party's platform did not blatantly endorse white dominance, though it did declare: "We stand for the segregation of the races and racial integrity of each race." The party's main legal argument was defense of the Constitution as interpreted by conservative white southerners. That is, the Dixiecrats, as members of the party were popularly called (Dixie being a nickname for the South), contended that the federal government had no legal right to supersede local practices. Ending segregation, the Dixiecrats maintained, would be "utterly destructive of the social, economic, and political life of the southern people."

Thurmond waged a vigorous campaign, mostly in the South, attracting more than 1,000,000 votes, or 2.4 percent of the national total. But he carried only four of the 48 states (Alaska and Hawaii were not yet states) and was not a factor in the outcome. However, the forces set in motion by Thurmond's challenge eventually changed the face of national politics. Many of the Democrats who backed Thurmond left the party in presidential

elections. They migrated to the Republicans, along with Thurmond himself, who became an influential U.S. senator.

His views on race grew more moderate as the South had to accommodate the increasing political power of black citizens.

Nonetheless, Strom Thurmond's revolt marked the beginning of decades of political turmoil. The largest symbol of that unrest was George Corley Wallace.

On becoming governor of Alabama in 1963, he promised his fellow southerners: "Segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever." Even more than in the late 1940s, however, thenational Democrats and many Republicans as well were determined to remove all trappings of racial discrimination.

So, in 1968, Wallace put together the American Independent Party and ran what turned out to be one of the most successful independent campaigns for the presidency in modern times. A fiery speaker who had risen from a humble family background, Wallace knew how to appeal to white workers, farmers, and owners of small businesses-the same constituency Duke would try to woo 20 years later. Wallace used the same legal rationale Thurmond had adopted, asserting the primacy of states' rights over federal policy.

Wallace drew nearly 10,000,000 votes, or 13.5 percent of the total, and carried five southern states. Thus the contest between the major-party candidates, Republican Richard Nixon and Democrat Hubert Humphrey, was exceedingly close; Nixon's total of31 ,800,000 popular votes was only 500,000 more than what Humphrey polled. Had Wallace won just a few more southern states and thus taken their electoral votes away from Nixon, Humphrey would have become President.

George Wallace remained a political factor for years afterward. In 1972, he ran for the Democratic nomination. He was campaigning hard when, during a political appearance, he was shot by a deranged gunman. The attack crippled Wallace physically for the rest of his life. Politically, he remained vital. He became governor of Alabama again and made one more try for the Democratic presidential nomination. Wallace also reconciled himself with the national-party leadership and came to terms with racial integration.

In an interview with Time magazine earlier this year, the now-retired leader said he had realized long ago that "we had to do away with segregation or we wouldn't have any peace in the country."

By interesting coincidence, the other prominent Democrat named Wallace who broke with his party came from the opposite end of the ideological spectrum. Henry Agar Wallace, unrelated to George, served as Vice President during Franklin Roosevelt's third term (194245). Roosevelt chose another running mate in his final campaign, Harry Truman, and Truman assumed the presidency when Roosevelt died. As the 1948 election approached, Wallace became increasingly hostile to Truman's views of the Soviet Union.

Truman, Wallace argued, was far too confrontational and appeared intent on creating an aggressive foreign policy. In domestic matters, Wallace leaned heavily toward the left, sharply criticizing the practices of corporations and demanding government intervention on the side of workers and small farmers. He also

championed the rights of racial and religious minorities.

A native of the midwestern state of Iowa, Wallace spoke for a populist tradition in his region that still shows up today. It is leery of in terv ention abroad and fearful of government involvement with business interests.

As Truman moved energetically to block Soviet pressure on Greece and Turkey, Wallace organized the "Progressive Citizens of America," which soon became the Progressive Party-a label used in some earlier elections by independent movements.

"The American people," said the Progressive platform, "want peace. But the old parties, obedient to the dictates of business monopoly and the military, prepare for war in the name of peace." Wallace was an appealing figure who conveyed a sense of sincere indignation toward the status quo.

But events in Europe undermined his position. When the democratic government of Czechoslovakia was overthrown and Soviet forces imposed a blockade on West Berlin, Truman's tough policies seemed vindicated.

Wallace received more than 1,000,000 votes but carried not a single state. He faded as a political force. Nonetheless, 20 years later, many of his arguments returned to the fore. A wing of the Democratic Party rebelled against President Lyndon Johnson's policy toward Vietnam. Johnson had to withdraw from the 1968 race. Four years later, George McGovern, a midwestern progressive in the Henry Wallace tradition, captured the Democratic nomination.

Republican Disunity The Republicans, though usually more cohesive than the Democrats, have not been immune to schism. The most interesting rupture occurred in 1912, when Theodore Roosevelt tried to reclaim the presidency. Four years earlier he had happily surrendered the reins to his ally, William Howard Taft. But elements in the party felt that Taft's administration drifted back toward an antiquated form of Republicanism favoring a weak central government.

The country was rapidly becoming more urban and more industrialized. Ac-

tivists within the party felt that the federal government had to adapt accordingly to ensure that industrialization would be humane, and to preserve natural resources.

Roosevelt, in fact, was far ahead of his time in promoting concern for conservation and protection of the environment. When Taft resisted these arguments, Roosevelt's backers sought to gain the Republican nomination for their man.

Taft's faction fought off that revolt at the party convention, so the pro-Roosevelt group bolted to form the Progressive Party. Roosevelt, an ebullient warrior, was eager for combat. "I've been growing more radical instead of less radical," he said. ''I'm even going further than the platform." He waged a robust campaign perthat attracted 4,200,000 votes-27 cent of the total-but came in second to the Democratic candidate, Woodrow Wilson. Clearly, Wilson owed his victory to the Republicans' fragmentation.

Both Roosevelt and Taft were finished as effective political leaders. Further, the Republican Party followed the Taft line for many years. But Roosevelt's legacy survived. As historian George Mowry wrote of Roosevelt's effort: "[It] was one of the most radical ever made by a major political figure ... .!t looked forward to an independent and urban social-service state, centralized, powerful, and inspired by a humane and protective outlook toward its citizens."

A species of that vision became reality, ironically, when Theodore Roosevelt's younger cousin, Franklin, came to power in 1932. Franklin Roosevelt's first victory began an era of activism in Washington that survives into the 1990s. As always in the United States, diverse voices continue to demand different agendas. Very few rebels against the two-party model can hope to achieve the impact Theodore Roosevelt did. But the ability to mount an independent presidential campaign gives dissenters a vehicle for their ideas and an opportunity to affect history.

D About the Author: Laurence I. Barrett is a former Washington correspondent and now contributor to Time magazine.

India International Centre (IIC) New Delhi, 1962.

In 1987 Stephen White set out to discover the genius of Joseph Allen Stein, an American architect who has made India his home. The result is a book on Stein and a USIS-sponsored exhibition, "The Architecture of Joseph Allen Stein: A 40-Year Retrospective," which is being shown in several Indian cities over the next few months. White, 35, who did his masters in architecture from the Washington University School of Architecture, St. Louis, in 1983, has spent the past six years making frequent trips to India to document Stein's contribution to architecture.

Forty Years of

]osephAllen Stein in India An Interview

With STEPHEN

ARUNA DASGUPTA: How did you get interested in India and in Stein?

STEPHEN WHITE: In 1979 I took two years off from my architectural studies to work in San Francisco with architect Richard Marshall, who had worked in India with Stein in the 1950s and had succeeded him as the head of the department of architecture at the Bengal Engineering College in Calcutta. Marshall was quite a champion of Joe's architecture and would often talk about him. Of course, I had already heard of Joe-he is something of a legend in the San Francisco Bay area, where he had an office before he came to India in 1952. I first met Joe in 1985 on one of his trips to San Francisco-and I decided that I wanted to work for him. So in 1987 my wife, who is also an architect, and I came to India and spent six months with him.

One of the first things you must have done on coming here was to see his buildings. Which is your favorite Stein building?

In terms of overall character, I think

WHITE

by ARUNA

DASGUPTA

Triveni Kala Sangam is quite something-graceful, refined, modest.

Looking at it you wouldn't know that there's so much going on inside there. Joe's relationships with the people he builds for really make the buildings flower. He had a good relationship with Sundari Shridharani at Triveni, with C.D. Deshmukh at the India International Centre (1IC), and with Douglas Ensminger at the Ford Foundation, all in New Delhi. Even today one thing that attracts him to a job more and more is whom he works with-he must have some sympathy with the person's objectives or the goals of the institution.

Stein's greatest work was really done in those early years. What has he done recently?

Everybody still talks about lie and Triveni...

There was a period-say between 1960 and 197Q.--when one major building after another came up: A very beautiful, subtle, incredibly gentle factory; the Ford Foundation-massive in its exterior but very delicately detailed with teak inside; the

American Embassy School; IIC .... People don't know much about the post-1960s phase because he spent the major part of the 1970s on projects that, unfortunately, came to nothing, usually because there was a change of government-this happened in Kashmir, in Sikkim, and in Bhutan. A lot of the drawings he did then are in the exhibition.

His recent projects in New Delhi include a small, beautiful building for the Confederation of Indian Industry near Lodhi Road; the National Trade Centre exhibition building at Pragati Maidan, which probably has the most artistic use of dome structures; and the India Habitat Centre, which is about ten times larger than India International Centre, but has the same quality of integration with gardens.

Then there's the Bankers Institute for Rural Development in Lucknow. So he has been working on campus scale buildings that take a long time.

Has his concept of architecture changed?

Not fundamentally.

He has always wanted to express a sense of comprehensible structure. His buildings have never been packages or boxes. They all have some decorative quality or some interesting form of art, but basically these derive from a clearly expressed structure. He has always tried to integrate buildings with landscape.

Joe's sense of environmental consciousness, which has been an important part of him since his San Francisco days, has further developed in India. He has spent a lot of time working in the

Joe and I

by KRISHNA CHAIT ANY A If it was providence that planned that Joseph Allen Stein and I should become close, it took its own time about it.

Joe was the first to get here, I mean to climb aboard what Buckminster Fuller has called spaceship Earth. That was in 1912. I came on board six years later. But I got to Delhi first, in 1940. Joe came to India in 1952. For a while he was in Calcutta. But we got together in Delhi early in 1955 and founded the Wednesday Club, which I am sure no one has ever heard of and which met at lunch once a week; somehow we could never manage it on a Wednesday.

If Joe shares a large area of my Indian experience, I managed to acquire a modest share of his early experience in the United States. He studied architecture under Eliel Saarinen at the Cranbrook Academy in Michigan. I am a great admirer of the Saarinens, father and son.

While visiting Helsinki on a newsprint purchase mission as Registrar of Newspapers for India, I took time off to visit the famous railway station designed by Eliel Saarinen. And I have spent hours at the Kennedy airport in New York, admiring the TWA terminal designed

by Eero Saarinen. The New York experience was in 1964 when, no doubt confusing me for someone else, the Institute of International Education, New York, offered me a six-month tour of the United States. ("Go wherever you like. Alaska? You must be nuts. But go by all means." I did.)

During the time Joe worked in San Francisco, he had his office very

Himalayas on conservation and planning projects.

What do you see as Stein's most significant quality?

What has struck me most about Joe-and this really is the key to my interest in him-is that he has maintained a lot of the optimism and the ideals that were present in American architecture-I would say almost just generally in America-in the 1940s and 1950s. Joe has been making buildings that incorporate those ideals, modified to the Indian cultural context and setting. He always seems to celebrate. And that was really a powerful thing to me because in my own professional

near Frank Lloyd Wright's small but beautiful creation to house a gift shop. I spent so much time hanging around there they thought I was planning a heist. Sausalito, a picturesque town across the San Francisco Bay, was one of Joe's favorite haunts. I used to take a city bus to Presidio Drive, walk through the park and over the Golden Bridge to Sausalito and, ravenously hungry, consume astonishing quantities of seafood there.

I shall come later to what I sense to be Joe's deeper motivation for deciding to stay in India. Men must work, and if they have deeper aspirations it is only through work that they can be realized, at which time work becomes a calling. Joe has spoken about the reasons for his choice. "Why do I continue to live and work here? I think India offers the great possibility of beauty with simplicity. There is enormous scope and need for good architecture here. There is a great deal of choice.

Ancient values still obtain .... " The concepts mentioned, beauty and simplicity, need some comment. Joe is tolerant and can appreciate the ideals of others regarding these even if his own are totally different.

For instance, he has a soft corner for the creations of Antoni Gaudi in the early years of this century-the Sagrada Familia church and the Casa Mila apartments in Barcelona-though I have not been able to respond to them because I don't like art nouveau. I want stone to look like stone, not like vegetable tissue; and I do not like additive ornament. But I begin to see Joe's point of view when coming to Louis Henry Sullivan's use of ornament. The motifs are absolutely minimal, but like the solitary gold band in the lapel of the sari worn in Kerala they bring in a patrician graciousness. However, despite his appreciation of variant approaches, Joe himself prefers a very simple style where functional lines are streamlined to beauty.

Together, Joe and his partner, Balkrishna Doshi, make a fine team, their temperaments complementing each other. Doshi's style is historicist and there are many remembrances of traditional Indian architecture in his creations. Joe does not feel the need for such allusions and is confident that the contemporary idiom can stand by itself. In relying

Low-cost houses for workers at the Durgapur Steel Plant in West Bengal, 1959.

career I had started feeling a sense of jadedness.

You are too young to be jaded ... !

Well, not jaded, but I just felt that there was less optimism, less idealism in the American architecture scene. So, like I tell Joe, I came all the way to India to learn about the true spirit of American architecture.

How do you think Stein would have been different as an architect if he had continued to stay in America?

That's a tremendously important question. When Joe was in the

States, he only did houses-very modest, beautiful, refined, small buildings. In India, pretty much immediately after he came, he got involved with projects of much larger scope--developing prototypes for low-cost urban and rural housing, institutional buildings, and even steel townships.

He did three steel townships-Rourkela and Durgapur for the Government of India and Jamshedpur for the Tatas-in about the first six years he was here. So, the scope of work expanded tremendously. I imagine his work would have kept expanding in the States too but here the intricacy ofIndian architecture-the

on a creative ability to manage the transfiguration of functional structure to aesthetic form, he is rather like Mies van der Rohe.

Joe sees some aesthetic affinity between the Bay Region style of California and traditional Japanese architecture. I don't quite see this, but I share his admiration for the latter. He has that now rare book by Gropius on the Imperial Katsura Villa in Kyoto which I intend to steal one of these days. Like Japanese architecture, Joe's too is characterized by a quiet, gracious simplicity.

With the mention of simplicity we get closer to the deeper motivations of Joe in deciding to live and work in India. He mentioned ancient values. For him, and for me too, these are valid values for our times. There is a great Vedic hymn to Earth (Bhumi) which, if James Lovelock had read it, would have made him call his formulation not Gaia, but Bhumi Hypothesis.

Joe sees what might be called a deep telluric sensibility in the Indian tradition of building, an unconscious urge to see that the home of man aligns with the home of all mankind, which is the earth with its great primordial elements. There is an architecture of the earth, the mud houses; of water, the stepwells; of the sun, terraces, porches, grilles, and also courtyards where you can look up and see the sky and feel the air as in the open. Space has to be enclosed in architecture but Joe minimizes the separation and manages the maximum continuity in the flow of space between exterior and interior.

By creating a free-shaped pool between the restaurant block of the India International Centre and Lodi Gardens in New Delhi he has eliminated an isolating high boundary wall. Outer and inner courts make the building here an unobtrusive presence on the fine site. It is not built up into a monolithic structure but distributed in blocks that are connected by open passage ways.

From Srinagar Joe sent me a summons to attend the formal inauguration of the Kashmir Conference Centre (1984). Materials were chosen to blend with the beautiful landscape of water and mountains: Precast patterned concrete blocks with exposed green

aggregates, blue slate for roofing. Joe never accents the portals of his buildings, another trait that reveals an abiding aspiration for harmony of habitation and habitat.

When Joe came to India in 1952 as professor of architecture and town planning at the Bengal Engineering College in Calcutta, he found the students full of idealism inspired by Gandhi and Tagore. Both believed in simplicity as an aesthetic in itself, and as leading to a finer grain of living in tune with the design of existence. Since then, on the crest of the thinking of people like Aldo Leopold, Rachel Carson, Schumacher, and Skolimowski, ecology has deepened into an ecophilosophy.

Here I must mention an anecdote that may be amusing to others but means a lot to me and to Joe, too. I have done a philosophical pentalogy. I know of only half a dozen people who have read all five books. Anyway, the philosophy here is a deeper ecology. Joe and a few others have been pressing me to do a one-volume summary of the five tomes. I didn't have any enthusiasm for slogging again for halfa dozen people. Exasperated by my inaction, Joe summarized the fourth volume, The Sociology of Freedom, a 450-page book, to about onethird the size. The typescript is still available, otherwise I would not have dared to mention this.

It has been great worrying together about the many menaces of mankind today and thinking about possible solutions. And providence (I mentioned its role in the whole affair, didn't I?) gave some indication that it thought we were doing fine. This Republic Day, we both were awarded the Padma Shri. I have heard a comment about this with which I totally agree: This Chaitanya man must have got it through some mix-up; but Joseph Stein deserved a higher ranking.

0 About the Author: Krishna Chaitanya is the author of about 40 books on literature, art, and philosophy. He received the Critics of Ideas award of the Institute of International Education, New York, in 1964; the Jawaharlal Nehru Fellowship in 1978; a DLitt of the Rabindra Bharati University, Calcutta, in 1986; and the Padma Shri in 1992.

older Hindu and Muslim architecture~added another dimension to his work.

What do you think made him stay on here? Do you think it provided him with more opportunity as an architect?

Some~but I think he really saw India as a land of promise, just general social promise. He was quite inspired by the whole idea that you could build a nation; not just the buildings, but the whole environment. Besides, the generosity and goodwill that people here extended toward him really moved him. He had opportunities here, that's quite true, but I think it was the attachment that mattered most.

Would you then say that India has helped him to flower as an architect?

Oh, I think so, absolutely. Something extraordinary happened here.

At what point did Stein become some sort of an obsession with you~ this book and exhibition, how did it all come about?

I felt it was important to tell the world about his work because it is so good. I tried to talk him into writing a book, but since he wouldn't, I decided to do it myself. I don't want to make a giant out of him~a Philip Johnson or some other figure. I think in architecture today everything is being overdeveloped.

What has been compelling to me about Joe is that he's not out to knock the world over with his buildings and he's not going to make a brash statement that commands attention. There is a sense of tremendous refinement in his work combined with a modesty. I think it has some potential on a larger scale, and that is why I wanted more people to know about it.

I have called the book Building in the Garden: The ArchiTecture of Joseph Allen Stein in India and California. The obvious reference is to the gardens that are so much a part of any Stein building. He has been

Above: One of Stein's most admired buildings in India is New Delhi's Triveni Kala Sangam~completed in i963~which has an open-air theater. Right top and center: The Sher-e-Kashmir international Conference Centre in Srinagar was completed in 1984. Bottom: The india Habitat Centre is currently under construction in New Delhi.

inspired by the gaiden traditions that are seen in old Indian architecture and the potential to live indoors and outdoors in lndia~he has tried to create that in his own buildings. That has been interesting to me probably because till I got to know him I did not have that sensibility myself. I'm surprised that I had so little inclination or education to understand the importance of gardens.

But the "garden" in the title is also an image of a better world.

Because that is what Joe's work is all about.

Incidentally, the book doesn't just focus on Joe, but more on his ideal of building in the garden, of seeing the world as a garden and then building carefully within it so that architectural structures don't dominate the scene but they are integrated with it. Stein's work is the main feature of the book but other people who are sympathetic to the theme are also mentioned. The book is being printed in India (published by Oxford University Press; price Rs. 1,500) and will be released in India during the exhibition and in America next year.

Your theme is very relevant today since there is a movement away from big architecture in America too.

Yes, I want people to realize that there is someone who is working with these ideals~that it can be done. Landscape architect Garrett Eckbo, who is one of the pioneers of modern landscape design, has written the foreword. And Erik and Joan Erikson, who lived in India for some months in the mid-1960s, have written a couple of beautiful pages about Stein and about how their own life has been a search for gardens.

So the book is really a gathering of common sympathies. If more people of modest nature but accomplishment would gather together maybe there would be much more optimism. The book shows that a lot of people have been pursuing decent directions for a long time.

Is the exhibition an extension of the book?

In fact, I have already organized one Stein exhibition in the United States~at the School of Architecture at Washington University in St. Louis in 1988 when Joe and I went to teach there together.

But it was just a display of photographs.

Here USIS has helped me in putting together a total exhibit, with photos, sketches, drawings, and models. It is a comprehensive 40-year retrospective of his work in India. But it also includes some of the small houses he designed in California.

There is an obvious generation gap between the two of you and there's this other cultural gap, because though he is an American he has been living in India. Did this create any communication problems?

Without being presumptuous, I would like to say that in him I found the values that are important to me. And I think Joe, from my understanding, was quite surprised to find someone almost 50 years younger than he is with a similar set of values and interests. We both strongly feel that what you do as an architect contributes to a larger scene ... it is a setting for life.

Architecture to me has always meant more than just making buildings. The architectural education I opted for was quite broad, it included literature, humanities, and more design-oriented things.

Hasn't your involvement with 'the book and the exhibition put your career on hold for the past few years?

Well, I did get a partial grant from the Ford Foundation for the book. I do see this as a part of my architectural work and it is tremendously important to me, but yes, sometimes I worry about not constantly designing. And I worry what other people will think.

But I have found the time to do some teaching, a lot of writing, and I have been working on a couple of houses for friends. After being in India I became interested in designing housing for extended families, where a lot of people can live together in the same house. In Holland I have worked on a garden suburb for a firm. And I have also been working on the development of 600 low-cost houses in Mexico.

So there is life after Stein for you!

Oh yes! In fact, I would like to do what he does~1 would like to be able and willing to build with groups of people whose aims I believe in.

I would like to continue my association with India in some way because I think India is tremendously exciting. There is still a great optimism here, an expansive sort of spirit that is a bit less at home. But then again maybe the grass is always greener. ... One thing that's essential to me is the development of a multinational, multicultural. self. Something like Joe~he has maintained his identity as an American, he hasn't converted to being an Indian, but he also hasn't remained the same completely.

Has your interaction with Stein helped you develop as an architect?

Absolutely. It has been grounding in a very gentle sort of penetrating approach that I never would have had, especially if I had been working for the kind of commercially motivated architectural scene that I found myself in in America.

Another thing I admire about Joe is that being as talented as he is, he somehow makes it seem like we're all like that~or can be like that.

He proves that you don't have to be some eccentric to be creative. I thInk more of us could be like him. His manner and his ethic are very basic. He is just dedicated. That's quite a thing, but it's not something unachievable.

0

WORLD TRADE FAIR INTERNATIONAL EXHIBiTION AND CONFERENCE ON FOREIGN COLLABORATIONS, INDUSTRIAL AND BUSINESS OPPORTUNJTIES 18TH TO 28TH MARCH, 1993. NEW DELHI - INDIA

First World Trade Fair in India covering the whole range of industry and business.

Expected to be the largest event ever to be held in India. The World Trade Fair will now be held in New Delhi from 18th to 28th March, 1993, for the convenience of large number of Foreign & Indian Participants and visitors.

'SPECIALISED-EXHIBITIONS The World

Trade Fair would comprise

specialised

International

distinct and

Exhibitions at New Delhi. It

will cover the thrust areas of Engineering,

& Telecommunications, Petrochemicals

&

Packaging,

Chemicals

Electronics

& Pharmaceuticals,

& Plastics, Textiles, Food-Agro Products Construction & Building, Hospitals &

Health Care, Tourism and other Industries.

Nearly

1000

presentations and

international exploring

business

opportunities

International

Seminars

Engineering,

Electronics

Chemicals

experts

&

in the

on

the

&

&

Building,

Industry-wise

thrust

&

Hospitals

&

would

abroad will be exposed to latest products, services,

meetings with their Indian counterparts.

and

catalogues.

Around

200,000

Foreign and Indian business visitors in addition

31st March, 1993, Based on the past experience, the Fair is expected (US$ 1000

Million).

crores

Extensive media coverage

being given to the Fair through Television in India and abroad.

and have "One-to-One"

in the capital.

NRls and their associations

the business activity at

to be around Rs. 3,000

Health Care,

The World NRI Conference will be held from

BUSINESS POTENTIAL

is

Press, Radio and

&

Packaging,

WORLD NRI CONFERENCE

to

one million general visitors expected at the Fair.

of

and trade delegations

4000 exhibitors and 4000 delegates from India and technologies

areas

Petrochemicals

Products

Tourism. Foreign collaborators make presentations

make

industrial

Telecommunications,

Pharmaceuticals,

Plastics, Textiles, Food-Agro Construction

will

the technological,

29th to

Around 2,000

from all over the world

are expected to participate for exploring technological and financial

collaboration

opportunities.

Registration 01 Exhibitors, Delegates, Advertisers & Sponsors is in FullSwing.

Registration at current rates upto 30th September

'9'2-only~

-

For Registration please contact:

The Convenor, World Trade Fair, Network Consultancy Services, P.O.Box No.1 065, Hyderabad - 500 029 (INDIA). ~ Tel: f37315, 235312, 241993, 241642 Telex: 0425-6075 MCA IN Fax: 091-0842-235861 ~'" New Delhi: Tel. : (011)6832509,6845395 Fax: (011)6830158, 6840808 ~ Video Film on the World Trade Fair available for Rs. 200/-

WORLD TRADE FAIR ••• WHERE

(US$10) payable in advance

~ UJ

'"

WORLD

MARKETS

MEET

,

Volume 1 (Code A 90001) LALIT Rajan & Sajan Mishra: Vocal BHAIRAV,Shahid Parvez: Sitar MIR BHAIRAV,Shruti SadoUkar: Vocal

Volume 2 (Code A 90002) MIAN KJTom Amjad AU Khan: Sarod

MUSICTODAY PRESENTS

BHATIYAKPandit Jasraj: Vocal VIBHAS,Shruti Sadolikar: Vocal

Volume 3 (Code A 90003) JAUNPURI, Padma Talwalkar: Vocal

RAGAS FROM

BILASKHANI Tom Amjad Ali Khan: Sarod DESITom Hariprasad Chaurasia: Flute

MORNING

RAGAS

DAWN TO MIDNIGHT

Volume 4 (Code A 90004) KUKuBHBIlAWAL MalJikaIjun Mansur: Vocal DESHKAKShahid Parvez: Sitar BHAIRAVI,Padma Talwalkar: Vocal

Volume 1 (Code A 90005) SHUDDHSARANG, Amjad AU Khan: Sarod SUGHRAtMallikaJjun Mansur: Vocal GAUDSARANG,Padma Talwalkar: Vocal

Volume 2 (Code A 90006) BRINDABANISARAN G,Hariprasad Chaurasia: Rute MADHMADSARANG,Pandit Jasraj: Vocal DHANI,Shahid Parvez: Sitar

Volume 3 (Code A 90007) BHIMPALAStMallikaJjun Mansur: Vocal PAIDEEP,Shruti Sadolikar: Vocal MAND,Shahid Parvez: Sitar

AFTERNOON

RAGAS

Volume 4 (Code A 90008) MULTANI,Rajan & Sajan Mishra: Vocal MADHWANll Hariprasad Chaurasia: Flute

PIw Amjad Ali Khan: Sarod Volume 1 (Code A 90009) MARWAPandit Jasraj: Vocal SHREEShruti Sadolikar: Vocal HAMSADHWANI Shahid Parvez: Sitar

PRICE Rs, 55 per cassette (including taxes). Minimum order for 4 cassettes and in multiples of 4 thereafter. Add Rs. 15 per order towards handling and delivery.

Volume 2 (Code A 90010)

• Add Rs. 10 for non*Delhi cheques.

POORlYA,Rajan & Sajan Mishra: Vocal

• ChcqucsIDemand Drafts payable at Bombay, Calcutta. Madras and Delhi mUSl be MICR only.

SHYAMKALYAN,Amjad Ali Khan: Sarod

• Cassettes will be home delivered by Registered Post/Courier.

NAND,MalIikaJjun Mansur: Vocal

• Please allow a minimum lead time of 3·4 weeKS for

Volume 3 (Code A 900t 1)

delivery.

SHUDDHKALYAN,Padma Talwalkar: Vocal

• For gift instructions use the attached order form.

M1\NJHKHAMMMHariprasad Chaurasia: Rute

• Payments should be made favouring MUSIC TODAY and maiiedtoMUSICTODAY. P.O. Box 29. New Delhi·110 001.

DURGARajan & Sajan Mishra: Vocal

EVENING

RAGAS

Volume 4 (Code A 90012) YAMAN,Shahid Parvez: Sitar SHANKARAPandit Jasraj: Vocal MISHRAGHARA Shruti Sadolikar: Vocal

Volume 1 (Code A 90013) SHUDDHNAT,MalIikarjun Mansur: Vocal KEDAR,Padma Talwalkar: Vocal JHlNJHOll Hariprasad Chaurasia: Flute

Volume 2 (Code A 90014) BAGESHWARI Pandit Jasraj: Vocal HAMIR Padma Talwalkar: Vocal TILAKKAMoD,Shahid Parvez: Sitar

Volume 3 (Code A 90015) MALKAUS,Hariprasad Chaurasia: Flute MARUBIHAG'Shruti Sadolikar: Vocal JAlJAIWANTt Rajan & Sajan Mishra: Vocal Volume 4 (Code A 90016) NAlKJKANHRAShruti Sadolikar: Vocal DES,Pandit Jasraj: Vocal DARBARI, Amjad Ali Khan: Sarod

r------: Product No. of Code Cassettes I A90001 A 90002 I A90003 A 90004 I A9OO05 ; A90006 I A90007 A 90008 I A90009 : A90010 A 90011 I A90012 I A90013 I A90014 I A 90015 I A90016

• Offerlrates

valid only in India

• If the Qrder form is missing, please mail your order along with name. address and remittance 10 MUSIC

TODAY.

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