THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Monday, October 23, 1995 TAG: 9510210018
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A6 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Editorial
SOURCE: Keith Monroe
LENGTH: Medium: 84 lines
A reconstruction of a Roman fort stands at Saalburg, in the forest a few miles north of Frankfurt, Germany. Behind it run the Limes, a series of earthworks, walls and watch towers on a scale almost to rival the Great Wall of China.
The Limes formed the northern border of the Roman empire. They filled the gap between the natural boundaries of the Rhine near Bonn and the Danube near Regensburg, a distance of more than 200 miles. For two centuries they helped protect the vast empire to the south from the unassimilated barbarians to the north. But by 260 A.D., Rome was pulling back its borders and heading for eventual dissolution. The Limes were abandoned, then overrun.
On a recent visit to Germany, it was impossible to stroll through the ghostly compound at Saalburg without comparing the Roman era and our own. The American military presence in Germany began 50 years ago, but now we too are withdrawing, our bases are closing, our legions are coming home.
Of course, the circumstances are much different. Rome was collapsing from within. The Cold War ended when our adversaries collapsed. Then, the walls were to keep the barbarians out. The walls that came down in 1989 were erected to keep the peoples of the Soviet empire in. But they refused to be denied the good life of the West any longer. Potato chips, Levis, VCRs, CDs.
The long Roman occupation left behind art and architecture, evidence of their engineering prowess, Roman customs and the Roman language that became the tongues of Europe. There at the fort in Saalburg are the baths and the coins, the arches, the statues and tombstones.
What's left of the American occupation as we come home? A web of corporate connections, of course. The Opel plant a few miles to the West of Saalburg is allied with GM, for instance. We'd like to believe we have bequeathed the continent a legacy of freedom and democracy. Time will tell. But we have unquestionably imprinted Europe with American style. Not Roman arches, but the Golden Arches. The signs of the pop culture we have exported in the past 50 years are everywhere.
The Frankfort Buchmesse is a huge international trade show for the book business. Publishers from Japan to Croatia gather to peddle their wares. And a mere glance reveals the cover designs of the books are all in the flashy American mode. And if any authors - other than the pope - are household names around the world, they are American. In editions in every language from Urdu to Ukrainian, you can see Stephen King and Tom Clancy.
In the ornate dining room of a spa hotel seemingly unchanged since before the war (the Franco-Prussian War), the entertainment was a player piano. And coming out of it were rinky-tink versions of ``Rocket Man'' and ``I Am A Rock.''
German women may look to Paris for fashion, but the men are all straight out of Hollywood. So many dress in the same style it is practically a uniform - one that's been worn by everyone from Brando to Springsteen. Black leather jacket, black jeans, motorcycle boots, white T-shirt and three-day beard.
In elevators and shopping malls, the background music is Steve Miller or Stevie Nicks. On TV commercials the products may be German autos or Swiss cheese, but the tunes are ZZ Top and Muddy Waters. Visit a parfumerie and the colognes aren't from Cologne. The men are wearing Harley Davidson and the women White Diamonds from Liz Taylor.
On TV Quiz shows, some of the categories are trivia about Gunter Grass, Steffi Graf or Mozart, but others concern James Dean and Sly Stallone. And when the contestants get an answer right, the hostess says: ``Rambo? OK!''
In hotels, the cable channels are all German - except for CNN and Rupert Murdoch's Sky-TV jabbering away in English. And on the Eurosport channel, NFL football is very big. ``Und Herschel Valker Gespinks der End Zone. Touch down!'' The movies that are playing in dubbed versions are Dirty Harry and Ar-nold.
Finally, ask waitresses, train conductors, sales clerks, tour guides if they speak English and they will say, ``Only a little.'' But it isn't true. They speak a lot. Because of all that Elvis and Brando, Coke and Ronald McDonald, American slang is the lingua franca of the European Community.
We may be locked in a serious competitive battle to win customers for American cars, computers, telephone products, credit cards. But the war for hearts and minds is over. Euro-nerds want to be Bill Gates. Euro-hustlers want to be Michael Milkin. The Wall came down to the tune of U2 and Billy Joel. The definition of cool is Tarantino. If this isn't victory, it's a reasonable facsimile thereof. OK? MEMO: Mr. Monroe is an editorial writer.
by CNB