09/07/2005 | In Europe, bewilderment at America's suffering

Published Wed, Sep. 07, 2005


In Europe, bewilderment at America's suffering

By FRIDA GHITIS


AMSTERDAM - The world has long seen the United States as a towering giant, a muscular nation of great wealth, efficiency and might.

To some, it stands as a generally benevolent power, using its strength in positive ways. Others maintain America is an arrogant and selfish nation.

Until now, however, all sides had seen America as largely invincible.

Then came Katrina: nature's wrath compounded by government incompetence -- and the agony of the American giant.

The suffering that came in the hurricane's wake exposed a new side of America.

Wrenching images of despair from New Orleans broke hearts the world over. But they also produced a confusing swirl of emotions among critics and admirers of the United States. The reaction from America's friends and foes everywhere shared one common element: bewilderment.

That's why so many reports about the chaos and sorrow chose to drench their narrative in irony, repeatedly reminding us they were showing America, "the world's only superpower."

The sight of America -- the efficient, the powerful, the mighty -- now anguished and overwhelmed has left the planet thoroughly perplexed.

The undeniable reality is that nature's unfathomable wrath was made infinitely worse by a combination of gov-ernment negligence, incompetence and wishful thinking.

In addition to profound sympathy for the victims, the most commonly expressed sentiment I hear in the streets of Amsterdam is disbelief.

"I ask myself," 52-year-old Hans said simply, "why?"

An avowed admirer of America, he winced, visibly pained by the suffering he saw on television and the astonishing disorganization that made it so much worse.

"I'm really disappointed," he said with a sigh.

The feeling was repeated in every conversation.

"Such a big country; so much money," said 29-year-old Hiske, shaking her head. "How could this happen?"

While many were quick to note the power of nature, others also rushed to point out the now-exposed underbelly of American society.

Europeans have long had a fascination with the more threadbare patches of America's social fabric. That fabric tore precisely in those places, and that's where the critics focused their attention: When the call for evacuation came, the government did nothing to help the poor leave.

Most of the desperate in the Superdome were impoverished African-Americans. Then came stories of armed gangs shooting, robbing and raping in the toxic waters of apocalyptic New Orleans.

Poverty, racial inequality, cities awash in weapons and a society that emphasizes self-reliance, leaving the poor and the weak to their own inade-quate devices: That is the image that America's critics like to emphasize.

And that is exactly what floated to the surface in the immediate aftermath of the Katrina catastrophe.

The joyful celebration with which al Qaeda greeted the disaster -- "answered prayers" members called it -- was not openly repeated in Europe, not even by America's sharpest critics. But some politicians rushed to score points.

In Germany, where voters are about to go to the polls, the environment minister blamed Washington's inattention to global warming even before the hurricane had moved away.

There was no shortage of comments bitterly contrasting America's readiness to go to war with its lack of readiness to prepare for this disaster.

For the millions who live below sea level in Europe, however, the New Orleans disaster brought a special unease.

Two-thirds of the Dutch population lives below sea lev-el, and reassurances from water management officials have only partially allayed fears awakened by Katrina.

Holland, which spares no expense keeping out the sea, has a long and painful history of deadly floods.

Sitting outside his home by an Amsterdam canal, Jan Eisinga, 78, remembered the 1953 Zeeland floods that killed 1,800 people. He spoke proudly of his country's state-of the-art anti-flood barriers, but warned that everywhere, in the United States and in Europe, we abuse nature, heightening all dangers.

In some quarters, the agony of America may have brought some secret joy. Here, however, the most powerful emotion, after sympathy for the victims, was the shock at seeing a once-mighty United States unprepared and overwhelmed.

Beyond that, America's vulnerability makes everyone feel a little less safe.

Venice, London and the Netherlands are rushing to check their defenses.

"If it can happen in America," mused Patrick, a muscular Dutch window washer preparing to climb his scaffold, "maybe it can happen here."

He looked at the water flowing in the canal a few feet away and confessed, "It's terrifying."


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Frida Ghitis writes about world affairs.