The difference between Barack Obama, leader and Barack Oba- ma, campaigner is in the sleeves. When Mr Obama speaks as the president — sober, calm, head of a nation — he tends to encase them in a suit jacket. When he speaks as a candidate — fiery, enthusiastic, figurehead of a party — he loses the jacket and rolls up his shirtsleeves.
In 1922 Archduke Otto von Habsburg, son of the last Austro-Hungarian emperor became the head of the House of Habsburg: "Your Majesty" to legitimists, and by the Grace of God "Emperor of Austria; King of Hungary and Bohemia, Dalmatia, Croatia, Slavonia, Galicia and Lodomeria; King of Jerusalem, etc; Archduke of Austria; Grand Duke of Tuscany and Cracow; Duke of Lorraine, Salzburg, Styria, Carinthia, Carniola and Bu- kowina; Grand Prince of Transylvania; Margrave of Moravia; Duke of Silesia, Modena, Parma, Piacenza, Guastalla, Auschwitz and Zator, Te- schen, Friaul, Dubrovnik and Zadar; Princely Count of Habsburg and Tyrol, of Kyburg, Gorizia and Gradisca; Prince of Trento and Brixen; Margrave of Upper and Lower Lusatia". His other titles were more minor.
With the war over, Seward found the time to devote to expansionism. He not only arranged to buy Alaska for $7.2m in gold — one senator declared his support for the treaty on the condition "that the secretary of state be compelled to live there"— but he also began planning for the acquisition of Hawaii and the construction of the Panama canal, both of which later came to pass. He also wanted to buy British Columbia, which would have connected the rest of America to Alaska, but "British honour" kicked in, among other factors, and he failed.
The great fear of every political leader is events, especially unexpected ones, and especially unexpected ones that are beyond the power of politicians to control.
An iron law of politics holds that at times of political unravelling the fixer becomes the scapegoat and the planter of stories turns into the story itself.
Inside were the contents of President Lincoln's pockets on the night he was assassinated. Two pairs of spectacles; a lens polisher; a pocket knife; the fob of a watch; a leather wallet; a linen handkerchief; and nine newspaper clippings admiring of the president's policies.
Being a President is like riding a tiger — a man has to keep on riding or being swallowed.
The after-life for a prime minister is a particularly empty one.
Ronald Reagan famously said, the nine most terrifying words in the English language are: "I'm from the government and I'm here to help."
While in opposition, Mr Cameron invited the Swede to his house for supper. I bicycle home, so may be late, he warned Mr Reinfeldt. Great, replied the Swedish prime minister, I'll grab a pint at a pub near your house.
Azhar Usman, a stand-up comic, says he is a "very patriotic" American Muslim. "I would die for this country," he declares. After a pause, he adds: "By blowing myself up." After another pause: "Inside of a Dunkin' Donuts."
Bush blamed the Iraqis for their inability to accept America's gift of freedom.
In Congo the government spent more than $500m on elections last year, making them the world's most costly after America's. High rates of illiteracy and a lack of capable institutions do not help. In Sierra Leone's border regions, officials judge who should get a voting card by listening to people's accents.
Tens of thousands of Puritans, who were religiously akin to the Pilgrims, reached America in the 1630s and 1640s, clustering in Massachusetts Bay and Connecticut. The Indians were squeezed into ever smaller spaces as the English convinced them to sell their land. Dartmouth, Mr Philbrick reports, went for "30 yards of cloth, eight moose skins, 15 axes, 15 hoes, 15 pairs of shoes, one iron pot, and ten shillings' worth of assorted goods".
An Icarus-like government career: a shimmering rise and cut short by incaution.
Ben Bradlee was the 52nd male Bradlee to study at Harvard since 1795.
One of the best things about being a government is that nobody audits your accounts.
Toowoomba today — the rest of the world tomorrow?
"Give me a balcony and I will become president," said Jose Maria Velasco, Ecuador's most prominent populist, who was five times elected president and four times overthrown by the army.
Now that "nigger" (which he calls the N-word) has become taboo in polite society, what happens to Niggerhead Point? The author notes in passing that this cape on Lake Ontario was thus named because it was a point on the laudable underground railroad that helped thousands of escaped slaves to freedom in Canada. That interesting historical association survives in the first name change, to Negrohead Point (which remains on federal maps). But to call it merely Graves Point (as New York state maps do) seems a pity. "Nigger" and "Jap" are now banned on American maps, though a Dago Gulch survives in western Montana. More puzzling to the non-American is the onslaught on the use of "Squaw", which according to some activists (though not philologists) is not an innocent word for a Native American woman, but a derogatory term for her vagina. So Squaw Peak is now set to be renamed after Lori Piestewa, the first Native American woman in the American army to be killed in combat.
In the year 15AD, during the short-lived Xin dynasty, a rumour spread that a yellow dragon, a symbol of the emperor, had in- auspiciously crashed into a temple in the mountains of central China and died. Ten thousand people rushed to the site. The emperor Wang Mang, aggrieved by such seditious gossip, ordered arrests and interrogations to quash the rumour, but never found the source. He was dethroned and killed eight years later, and Han-dynasty rule was restored. You only need to move your lips to start a rumour, but you need to run until your legs are broken to refute one.
For the Democrats, this is a great opportunity. For years, they have enjoyed a consistent advantage over Republicans on "mommy" issues, such as education and health care. But Republicans have trounced them on "daddy" issues, such as killing terrorists and defending the homeland. The Democrats have lost a lot of elections because they are easy to caricature as the party that thinks "there are no enemies, just friends whose grievances we haven't yet accommodated."
Even an optimist would not describe Pakistan's glass as half full — keeping it unbroken may be the best one could hope for.
Cronyism is as American as apple pie. All countries have their cronies. That much-cited model of moral rectitude, Tony Blair, is so surrounded by them that they are called "Tony's cronies" (he made his old roommate, Charlie Falconer, Lord Chancellor). Edith Cresson, a European commissioner, appointed her dentist to an advisory position. But you expect that sort of thing in Brussels. America's problem is the contrast between high- minded idealism and low practice. America regards itself as the world's purest meritocracy — a country based on talent, not patronage and toadyism. A quick glance at history shows this is rubbish. Most presidents surround themselves with a regional mafia: look at Carter's Georgians or Reagan's Californians or Clinton's Arkansans. These mafias produce some rum appointments: Jimmy Carter made his one-time campaign driver, Jody Powell, his press secretary; Bill Clinton made his chum from Miss Marie's kindergarten in Hope, Thomas McLarty, his chief of staff. Scandals are endemic. Harry Truman's Missouri cronies had a weakness for gifts of mink coats and freezers (an issue in the 1952 election). As for the antics of Mr. Clinton's Arkansas buddies, the less said the better.