Obama and Medvedev and a field of dreams

"What did you do for Obama's visit, dad? Did you see him? Did he talk to you?"

Well, son, it's like this: As Obama and Medvedev were making the world a safer place, I was covering the event from a field about a kilometer from the Great One.

This was journalism by the numbers. Prague Castle had 1,200 applications to cover the treaty signing but could only allocate 300.

Of those, the U.S. and Russian media secured 210 places. The remainder had to battle it out for the leftovers. Hundreds of journalists were scattered outside the castle looking willfully and jealously on at their more illustrious compatriots safely ensconced in the castle's gilded splendor.

There were benefits. It was a glorious spring day, the type of day that immediately inspires artists.

And you had time to stop and talk to people, which would have been impossible inside the castle walls, where the wonders of electronic communication means you are constantly on call.

But exclusion did not prevent contribution. One enterprising, unaccredited journalist had set up stall, complete with satellite dish, in a field within the castle's shadow.

We had never met before but, greeting me as if I had just paid off his overdraft, Mohammed Alami shook my hand and uttered the warm Arabic greeting of "As-salam alaikum (Peace be upon you) before joking about how we had been excluded from the gathering of the great and the good.

"I have just come in from Doha, Qatar, where I work for Al-Jazeera," Alami said ruefully. "My photographer got accreditation, but I was not so fortunate," he added with a shrug of the shoulders and the recognition that his fate was sealed.

There in the middle of the field, amid birdsong and a light breeze, he transmitted back to Doha the news that the world was being made safer from the perils of nuclear weaponry. It was sobering to realize that, just a kilometer or so away from this glorious setting, men were trying to ensure the world's very survival.

But, even in the splendor, one question kept nagging at me like a fresh mosquito bite. I could see stranded journalists, as well as hundreds of police officers (who managed to be courteous and polite as they denied us access), but where were the crowds?

A year ago, Obama's appeal had drawn hundreds of thousands to Prague's ancient streets. But, except for various groups of tourists, there seemed hardly anyone who had bothered to turn up for the occasion. Of course, most people would have been aware of the cordon sanitaire, but it was hard to escape the conclusion that Obama's appeal has been lessened in the Czech Republic.

Tom Clifford can be reached at
tclifford@praguepost.com