A Beer With a Shtick, and Other Moments of Summit

The ambivalence with which Americans greet Bill Clinton in the seventh year of his presidency is now the stuff of political science: An enormous and often lubricious curiosity has evolved into an uneasy boredom.

But even in European cities accustomed to flags flying from the fenders of foreign dignitaries’ limousines and the distinct sound of police escorts, Clinton’s presence stirs enough curiosity that the paparazzi of Paris, their experience with Princess Diana notwithstanding, attempted to weave their scooters in and out of his motorcade last week.

From Paris to Cologne and no doubt in Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia, and in Macedonia--his destinations Monday and Tuesday, respectively--Clinton remains an object of attention. He has drawn stares whether coursing through downtown Cologne on his way from the summit of the major industrial nations or hopping out for some shopping.

Throughout the summit, which began Friday, crowds have gathered here in Cologne. Some have protested what they consider insufficient work by the world’s richest nations to relieve the debt burden of the poorest, but others have simply given the streets the festive, if incongruent, tenor of a Brazilian carnival.

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In Cologne, the president also sampled the local beer, whose name, Koelsch, stems from the German name of the city, Koeln.

So far, so good.

“Ich bin ein Koelsch,” the local newspaper Express blared in a headline, quoting the president’s reaction.

If that sounds familiar, it’s because President Kennedy created a stir when he visited the then-divided city of Berlin during the Cold War. Seeking to identify himself with the struggling residents of the Western, non-Communist sectors, Kennedy declared: “Ich bin ein Berliner.”

In so doing, he famously declared himself a Berliner--in this unintended usage, a jelly doughnut.

So how did Clinton’s declaration translate? Rather than declaring himself a man of Cologne (“Ich bin Koelsch”), he proclaimed himself a beer--albeit a favored local brew.

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Sergei V. Stepashin, the most recent of Russian President Boris N. Yeltsin’s string of prime ministers, left U.S. officials marveling at how well he seemed to have learned his brief. He stepped onto the summit stage, figuratively at least, with aplomb.

But when the time came for him to take a literal step, it was a different story.

At the start of a photo session in which each summit participant was to stand in front of his nation’s flag, Stepashin found himself chatting with French President Jacques Chirac. When he was to take the formal pose, he simply turned to slip into the lineup, next to Chirac.

Wrong.

One by one, his partners gently nudged him down the line, to the place reserved in front of the red, white and blue stripes of the Russian flag--at the very edge of the Group of 7, with which Russia has long sought to ally itself.

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Samuel R. “Sandy” Berger, Clinton’s national security advisor, is not known for delivering pithy sound bites. But he was spitting them out in Cologne.

When asked to speak up at a briefing for reporters Friday evening, the man responsible for directing the formulation and execution of the administration’s foreign policy quipped: “Speak softly and carry a big shtick.”

Asked what topics would be raised at a dinner of the summit leaders, he replied: “Kosovo will be a big part of it. Middle East. I mean, it’s . . . your basic food groups.”