“What’re you going to do if Bush is re-elected?” is, of course, the private subtext to any seemingly disinterested wonderment about the U.S. national election, a wondering that seeks fellow-feeling with an American, some gesture that acknowledges that we’re in the same boat here and that something’s possible.

“Oh, we are,” is what I say back, “We’re definitely in the same boat, whether any of us over here admits it or can find a way to behave that’s (as the unhappy phrase now goes) pro-active.”

I don’t have much more than fellow-feeling to offer back. And what I have is vitiated, of course, by the fact that I’m an American, and I’m not leaving, and it’s my country that’s coping so badly with the great moral dilemmas of our new age.

Plus, I’m one of the “liberal compromised,” those who need Bush to do worse so that our side can win and, naturally, do better. It feels odd to be an American right now, don’t let anybody kid you. Republican and Democrat alike – nobody likes how this skin feels today. And most of us on both sides love our country and think it has promise. Finally, you have to take encouragement where you can find or invent it. And I take my skimpy measure from this same wan, williwaw feeling of unease that we all feel here – bearing inwardly, as it does, the profound presumption that we won’t go on this way, that we have to do better rather than worse, and that beneath the thump, thump, thump of those campaign drums, there’s a decent and strong and steady heartbeat. It’s an election year. There’s a chance.