They convened.

In the dim light of the cabinet, where the fate of nations is weighed with the gravity of a counting-house ledger, the President spoke.

He spoke of Warsaw.

He spoke of the Poles.

But alas, the language used was hardly that of a statesman. It was not the polished rhetoric of a diplomat, nor the measured tone of a man of letters. It was a torrent.

Vulgar.

Sharp.

Utterly devoid of grace.

It appears that when the doors are closed and the public gaze is averted, the mask of the benevolent leader slips. Regarding the Polish indignation over the glorification of nationalists, the President did not offer a resolution. He did not issue a polite circular. He did not appeal to the common good of the people.

He cursed them.

Simply put: "To hell with the Poles."

One wonders if the gentlemen of the diplomatic corps would find such a sentiment agreeable over a glass of port. I suspect not.

Such is the state of our modern affairs.

Our leaders deliberate.

They rage.

And the people, as always, wait in the fog.