The Mike Snyder Blog

One of my good friends is a really smart and savvy guy when it comes to International Relations and Economics. His favorite pastime is shooting down the ideas of simplistic and narrow-minded undergrads who think they finally figured out a way to solve the world’s major problems. If you’re the type of person who wants to change the world the minute you leave Tufts—at least if you’re an IR major—then you need to talk to my friend first.

I think the conflict in Sudan is a great example. Right now, hundreds of thousands of American college students want the United States Army to march into Sudan and stop the genocide there. I was one of them. It’s a better use of our troops than keeping them in Iraq, and come on now, what kind of selfish and insensitive person wouldn’t want to put a stop to mass killings?

I didn’t intend for this blog to be a place for ranting and heavy criticism, but sometimes a story comes along that is so ridiculous that it is nothing less than an offense to human integrity and common sense.

I woke up and saw this on CNN.

At first glance, it looks like a typical U.S. foreign policy story. There is nothing unusual, I suppose, about Bush requesting 4,400 more troops for Iraq. But there’s one sentence at the bottom—where Bush sends a letter to Nancy Pelosi negotiating the $100 billion Iraq War paycheck, with $3.2 billion going for the 4,400 extra troops—that makes me want to punch a hole into the drywall of my 100-year-old dorm room.

Put this into context. According to CNN, Bush is on a weeklong “goodwill tour” of Latin America, visiting countries like Brazil, Columbia, Guatemala, and Mexico in order to reaffirm United States’ commitment to the region. “I bring the goodwill of the United States to South America and Central America. That's why I'm here,” Bush said. “I don't think America gets enough credit for trying to help improve people's lives. And so my trip is to explain, as clearly as I can, that our nation is generous and compassionate.”

History was my specialty in high school, at least as far as high school specialties go. American history. Military history. Geography. Capital cities. I aced the World History SAT II—a personal accomplishment of mine, though I don’t think the college admissions committees cared much. At least my brothers were proud. They should be—they’re both high school history teachers.

With that in mind, it’s strange that I don’t study history in college. I might actually graduate from Tufts with only one history class under my belt. Two if I’m lucky.

I think I first became disillusioned with the subject because nobody gave a damn. The math and science geniuses at my high school received awards for their research, or sometimes just for scoring high on a test. But nobody ever talked about the history buffs—the bright-eyed kids who scoured the school library for books on Malcolm X, Japanese Samurai, or the Wonders of the Ancient World. A youngin’ excelling at the sciences was and still is today regarded as a future scientist, engineer, doctor, or physicist. But history is a hobby, a play thing. Something you do in your free time and not worthy of any serious recognition.

Last Fall, the assistant tennis coach on the Tufts tennis team was an exchange student from Poland. I don’t know much about Poland, and by talking to him, it was clear he didn’t know much about the U.S. either. I got the sense that he was soul-searching, and his parents, peeved at their unemployed son, bought him a one-way ticket to Boston, told him to pack his bags, and didn’t even remind him to keep his 4 oz. fluid containers at home.

In the short time he spent in North America, one thing in particular struck him about this supposedly imperialist, bellicose, and wasteful country. People here are really nice, he said. People smile at you for no reason, he said. They give you directions, he said. Everybody seems happy here.

When he said this, his face sort of lit up, and his eyes softened. It’s hard to describe in words the subtle nuances of this expression; it conveyed the perfect combination of shock and relief, as if he had just discovered that “niceness” and “happiness” really existed and were not, it turns out, the stuff of Saturday morning cartoons. “Well I’ll be…” he seemed to say. “Human beings can be nice after all.”

I should be studying for my huge, huge biology test this Thursday, but a Facebook detour compelled me to write this blog entry. Isn't it great when one form of procrastination leads to another? (Note: the following links will not work unless you have a valid Facebook account.)

I think it's wonderful that in this exciting era of global crises and challenges, that we as college students have the opportunity to interact with people our age from all parts of the country and indeed, with students throughout the entire developed world. The internet has made this possible, but Facebook has streamlined the process so that entire conversations with people you've never met before and likely will never meet again are literally just a click or two away.

Take this wonderful little Facebook group I stumbled across called "The Official Petition to Get Palestine Listed as a Country." It's your typical example of using Facebook to make a political statement--in this case, the founders of the group object to the fact that Palestine is not listed as an official "Facebook country."

If you haven't already seen it, you NEED to watch this YouTube clip of Democratic Presidential candidate Mike Gravel. Over the last several days it's accrued some 170,000 hits, and bloggers like myself are having a field day. Obama supporters, take note.

Oh. My. God.

Can you remember the last time you saw such candor from a politician? While the other candidates, including Clinton and Obama, play with rehearsed answers and stay politically neutral on the tough questions, Mike goes straight for the throat. Just who does that? Who has the political balls to directly challenge the front runner Obama ("Barack, who do you want to nuke?") and speak straight to the moderator ("Who are you afraid of, Brian?"). Whether you love him or hate him, it's hard not to respect a guy who uses the phrase "military-industrial complex" on national television.

In a way he reminds me of my grandpa. Also of Hunter Thompson, the late gonzo journalist. That's funny, because politicians aren't supposed to be like journalists. Then again, is politician a fitting label for someone with almost zero regard for, well... er, politics?

Something else that's been troubling me. In a weird and perverse way, Gravel is Bush's counterpart. Both speak their mind. Both seem to think they know the "truth" and the " right answer" without a shadow of a doubt. Might Gravel, like Bush, one day become a narrow-minded charlatan in order to feed his own agenda and personal vision for the world? Gravel isn't a saint, make no mistake. Some of his ideas seem unfounded and unpractical. His claim that the United States has nothing to be afraid of and should therefore disarm militarily is a dubious one at best. Did he ever wonder that maybe, just maybe, the reason the U.S. has nothing to be afraid of is because it spends more money "on defense than the rest of the world put together?"

In any case, Mike Gravel challenged all of America last Thursday. Every single one of us--Democrats and Republicans--is confronted with new notions of what a politician can (and should?) be. Mike reminds us that the national politics to which we are accustomed are not the end all, be all. This is a great gift to a country that is in a moral and inspirational rut.

But can a politician really get elected without political posturing? Without lies and empty promises? Without cautious and politically correct responses? Or more importantly, without $30 million in campaign contributions?