For several years I lived in a secluded valley in the north of England.  Originally of necessity, more latterly by inclination, the valley people enjoyed a certain degree of self-sufficiency and did not concern themselves overly with the ways of the world outside.

It seems incongruous that there should be a parallel with the greatest nation on earth.  But just as, in the early days, US presidents regularly broke treaties with the indigenous population, George W. Bush’s trash bin will soon have the Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty of 1972 sitting atop the Kyoto Agreement.   The Bush administration seems unconcerned that in both cases world opinion is united in condemnation.

In the case of the environment it is easy to recognise the influence of the powerful oil lobby, but the ABM Treaty is being dumped simply because of a bee in Uncle Sam’s bonnet.  Since 1972 the civilised world, achieving consensus over the non-proliferation of nuclear weapons, has been moving back from the brink of nuclear conflict.  Ignoring this, George W. wants to protect the US of A with a missile shield.  This might be an ideal solution in an ideal world, but every day we are faced with the consequences of the frailty of human nature and technology.  Given enough chances to go wrong, things do go wrong, whether by design or by mishap.  As yet, the shield theory remains unproven.  In the first four tests only two ‘missiles’ were destroyed.  The Pentagon want 20 more tests, at $100 million each, but even if tests become 100% successful the world doesn’t stand still.  Man’s defences, of his body, mind, cities, computers, whatever, are always rendered obsolete by ingenuity and technology.  If a missile shield provided protection from the weapons of today, it would need a black hole budget to try to stay ahead of the game.  And, of course, that would not stop the warhead that arrives in a suitcase from one of our volatile rogue nations.

There is an old story about my rural valley.  Once upon a time, the valley dwellers were concerned that the cuckoo, which they regarded as a symbol of good fortune, might one day fly out of the valley and desert them.  After much deliberation, and at enormous expense and effort, they erected a wall from one side of the valley to the other.  Now, surely, their peace and prosperity were guaranteed.  But one day, as they were working in their fields, they watched in alarm as the cuckoo flew higher and higher and straight over the wall out of the valley.  The master builder turned to his neighbour.  “Did you see that,” he said, “the cuckoo only just cleared the wall.  If only we had made it a bit higher  . . .”

Good luck, Mr. Bush.