Greg Lovett/The Palm Beach Post/AP

Former President Donald Trump passes supporters while traveling in his motorcade in West Palm Beach, Florida, on Jan. 27, 2021, on his way to Mar-a-Lago in Palm Beach.

The contrast could not be more stark. 

A year ago, during Donald Trump’s first impeachment trial, presidential tweets and retweets lit up social media, disparaging House Democrats as they made their case for a Senate conviction. “Sleaze bag,” “con job,” “corrupt politician” – the barbs coming from then-President Trump’s Twitter account seemed endless. 

Today, midway through the former president’s historic second impeachment trial, the social media silence is almost deafening.

Mr. Trump’s permanent banishment from Twitter on Jan. 8, two days after the Capitol riot he is blamed by Democrats and some Republicans for inciting, has certainly crimped his style. He’s at his Mar-a-Lago estate in Florida, living in deplatformed exile. Old-fashioned press releases from The Office of Donald J. Trump land in reporters’ inboxes. But the ex-president has made no TV or radio appearances since leaving office.

“His instinct is telling him to be quiet,” says Ford O’Connell, a Florida-based Republican strategist. 

For Mr. Trump, this is an unusual posture, given that much of his professional life has centered on performance – first as a celebrity real estate developer, then a reality TV actor, and culminating in an improbable rise to the presidency. 

This pause in Mr. Trump’s relentless public presence could be serving him well. His poll numbers have rebounded a bit since plunging after the Jan. 6 sacking of the Capitol by his supporters. But even if Mr. Trump recaptures some of the support he lost, it’s a new day for his persona. 

In some ways, the former president is two entities – a man and an idea. Mr. Trump the man has a solid base of diehard supporters, giving him the potential to stage a political comeback and become the first U.S. president to win a nonconsecutive second term since Grover Cleveland in 1892. Mr. Trump the idea represents a breed of political thought – “conservative populism” – that could be the key to success for other Republican politicians going forward.

“The Trump coalition is a conservative-populist alliance where both halves need the other in order to thrive,” says Henry Olsen, a senior fellow at the Ethics and Public Policy Center in Washington. 

Can coalition hold together?

In policy terms, this alliance stands for some elements of old-style Republicanism – lower taxes, less regulation, cultural conservatism – along with an “America first” approach to immigration, trade, and foreign policy. 

To regain the presidency, Mr. Olsen says, Republicans need to add to this coalition without alienating either of its key components. That means, for example, sticking with Mr. Trump’s restrictive positions on immigration and international trade. 

“Many Republicans come from the conservative side of the alliance, so they’re used to talking about small government, religious liberty, and strong defense,” says Mr. Olsen. At the same time, “there are many people in the alliance who are concerned about America’s future, who are American patriots rather than conservatives, who want to see trade handled in a way that helps American jobs rather than American capital.” 

In a poll last month of 1,000 Trump voters in 2020 conducted by YouGov and directed by Mr. Olsen, the outlines of the Trump electorate show a potential path forward for the Republican Party, including one without Mr. Trump himself. It involves holding together culturally disparate elements of the electorate – embodied by well-off Republican donors and blue-collar workers who want someone fighting for them in Washington. 

The survey shows how much Mr. Trump dominates today’s Republican Party, but provides no guarantee that he would be its leader heading into the 2024 presidential race. Some 66% of Trump 2020 voters said they’re more supporters of Mr. Trump than of the GOP. But only 54% said they’d definitely support the former president, were he to run again.  

Divisions within the Trump electorate were evident in the poll on numerous issues: Some 60% said foreign trade helps the U.S. economy, while 40% said it hurts. Only 54% agreed that cutting taxes on the rich helps grow the economy for everyone. Climate change, too, brought a diversity of views, with only 34% of Trump voters saying that it’s “not real and government should do nothing to combat it.” 

What’s clear is that, whoever carries the Trump mantle forward can’t alienate key swaths of voters, including those who helped the GOP win state legislatures and narrow the Democratic margin of control in the U.S. House of Representatives, even as Democrat Joe Biden was winning the White House. Mr. Trump’s considerable pull in 2020 was demonstrated in the 74 million people who voted for him, 11 million more than in his 2016 victory. 

“Populism isn’t going away,” says Karlyn Bowman, an expert on polling at the American Enterprise Institute in Washington. 

Around the country, Republicans are attaching themselves to Mr. Trump’s brand as they gear up to run for office in 2022. In Ohio, former state Treasurer Josh Mandel is running for the U.S. Senate seat being vacated by retiring GOP Sen. Rob Portman. “Help protect the future of Pres. Trump’s America First Agenda,” he said in a fundraising tweet Thursday. 

In Arkansas, former Trump press secretary Sarah Huckabee Sanders is running for governor, and has already chased the lieutenant governor out of the race. In her announcement video, she leaned more on her service to Mr. Trump, who endorsed her candidacy early, than on father Mike Huckabee’s tenure as governor there. 

Uncertain legacy

So is it still Mr. Trump’s Republican Party? 

For now, yes, says a former Trump 2020 campaign official speaking on background. But the future is tough to predict. Some see Mr. Trump fading in public consciousness as the 2022 and 2024 elections gear up, even if Mr. Trump gets involved, as expected, by appearing at rallies and in the media. 

Others see the former president getting a new lease on political life with an expected acquittal in the current impeachment trial – along the lines of “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” 

Some analysts say there’s no Trumpism without Mr. Trump, that Trumpism is as much about his fighting spirit as about the policies. Maybe. The former campaign aide sees potential for a candidate who “fights for the things Donald Trump fought for on the policy side, but doing it with Ronald Reagan’s voice, full of optimism and hopefulness.” 

Kevin Madden, a former Republican strategist, is less sanguine about the GOP’s future.  

“The party has always flourished when it was the party of reform and the party of ideas,” Mr. Madden says, looking back to President Ronald Reagan’s tenure and before then, to when 1964 presidential nominee Barry Goldwater was the party’s conservative standard-bearer. But under Mr. Trump, “the party has been organized more around what it’s against than what it’s for.” 

“The reality is that Trump will have as big an impact on the profile of the party as Ronald Reagan did,” says Mr. Madden, who left the party a year ago. “And he will serve as the identity of the party for likely the next 15 years, and potentially more.” 

As Myanmar’s security forces detain democratic politicians and clash with thousands of protesters crowding the streets to decry this month’s military coup, questions are swirling about whether the regime’s chief foreign backer – China – bore a hand in the overthrow of the fragile democracy.

China’s staunch, decadeslong support for Myanmar’s often brutal military rulers, coupled with Beijing’s immense economic sway in Myanmar, sometimes dubbed China’s “west coast,” has led some observers to conclude Naypyitaw’s generals must have acted with at least tacit approval from Beijing.

“This probably would not have happened without Beijing’s wink-wink nod-nod,” Sen. Dan Sullivan, a Republican from Alaska, told an online forum on China last week. Beijing is “clearly focused on exporting the authoritarian model China has” and would “take a lot of comfort in having a country like Burma fail in terms of its democratic aspirations.”

Yet many experts assert that China’s current interests in Myanmar are far more complex, going beyond basic ideological affinity between authoritarian regimes. In fact, they say, the military takeover of the civilian government led by now detained leader Aung San Suu Kyi runs counter to Beijing’s top priorities for the relationship: security along their shared 1,300-mile border, stability within Myanmar, and economic links through Myanmar to the rest of the world – echoing their priorities throughout the region.

Beijing’s leaders “do not see the return to a junta in China’s national interest,” says Yun Sun, director of the China Program at the Stimson Center in Washington, D.C. “The coup put China in a difficult position,” says Ms. Sun, who researches China-Myanmar relations. “Most of all, the instability in the country is detrimental to what China wants to pursue.”

Indeed, China’s official statements on Myanmar have reflected a concern over stability. “We hope that all parties in Myanmar will properly handle their differences under the constitutional and legal framework and maintain political and social stability,” said Foreign Ministry spokesman Wang Wenbin.

And although Beijing reportedly opposed a statement by the United Nations Security Council condemning the coup, it signed onto one voicing “deep concern at the declaration of the state of emergency imposed in Myanmar by the military … and the arbitrary detention of members of the Government, including State Counsellor Aung San Suu Kyi.” The U.N. statement called for the immediate release of all those detained and pressed for “continued support of the democratic transition in Myanmar.”

Wider aims

To be sure, China’s overarching goal in Myanmar and other nearby countries is to deepen its influence while weakening that of the United States, experts say. And Beijing has moved aggressively in recent months and years to strengthen control over border regions such as Xinjiang and Hong Kong while pressing territorial claims along the frontier with India and in the South China Sea.

In Southeast Asia, China is “trying to consolidate their sway over their neighbors all around their periphery, and also … to drive wedges with the United States,” says David Lampton, senior fellow at the Foreign Policy Institute of the Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies (SAIS).

Yet in Myanmar, the best way to achieve such ends may not be backing a military coup, especially given the strong ties and leverage Beijing had built with Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi and her government, analysts say.

Nyein Chan Naing/Reuters

Chinese leader Xi Jinping and Myanmar State Counselor Aung San Suu Kyi attend a signing ceremony of a memorandum of understanding at the Presidential Palace in Naypyitaw, Myanmar, Jan. 18, 2020.

Chinese leader Xi Jinping made a state visit to Myanmar in January 2020, and the two nations were enjoying cooperation on issues ranging from major infrastructure projects to resolving refugee problems caused by ethnic and sectarian conflicts. China has defended the Myanmar government over the crisis in Rakhine state, where the armed forces have waged a campaign of ethnic cleansing against the mostly Muslim Rohingya population.

Beijing showed its pragmatism in working to build ties with Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi and her semi-democratic government, in which Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi was the de facto leader but the constitution guaranteed the Burmese military control over key ministries and veto power in parliament. “The Chinese were doing what they always do, trying to build as many connections in as many directions as they can,” says Dr. Lampton, a professor emeritus of China studies at SAIS.

Analysts say internal politics was the main driver of the coup, which followed the landslide election victory in November of Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi’s National League for Democracy – a victory disputed by the military-backed opposition party.

The coup has again put China in the position of having to stand up for the regime as its longtime “friendly neighbor,” although this support has undermined Beijing’s image in Myanmar and overseas.

“Burmese public opinion sees China as a supporter of propping up the military once again and abandoning the ‘lady’,” says Ms. Sun, using a nickname for Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi. “This puts China in opposition to the Burmese people.”

Hundreds of anti-coup protesters demonstrated outside the Chinese Embassy in Yangon on Thursday, holding posters calling on Beijing to “support Myanmar, don’t support dictators,” according to Reuters.

In repeated statements, China’s Foreign Ministry spokesman Mr. Wang seemed to echo concerns about popular opposition, saying, “China hopes that parties in Myanmar will put people’s will and interests first.”

Wary generals

For its part, the nationalistic Burmese military has demonstrated over the years that it harbors deep suspicions of China’s intentions in the country, a worry shared to different degrees by many Southeast Asian governments. The military is nervous about Beijing’s alleged backing for insurgent militia groups along the border, and has in the past stirred up anti-Chinese sentiment. It has also canceled infrastructure projects central to China’s interests in the country.

In contrast, Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi’s government entered into major infrastructure projects with China, including the China-Myanmar Economic Corridor – an initiative worth billions of dollars that includes a railway and deep-water port – as part of China’s Belt and Road project. It had also signed the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership free trade agreement that includes China, Myanmar’s biggest trading partner.

One of China’s major strategic goals in Myanmar is to gain access, through ports and pipelines, to the Indian Ocean, and thereby reduce dependence on the potential chokehold of the Strait of Malacca.

“China’s interest in Myanmar is connectivity. If it becomes an international pariah, then what can China connect to?” asks Ms. Sun.

Story Hinckley/The Christian Science Monitor

The U.S. Capitol on Feb. 6, 2021. Since the security breach at the building on Jan. 6, barbed wire fences measuring 7 feet high have surrounded the once-public grounds.

In front of the U.S. Capitol this past Saturday, a young mother with a baby strapped to her chest asked a stranger to take her family’s photo. As the father tried to wrangle their little girl, wholly focused on her dripping ice cream cone, they stood smiling before the Capitol dome. It was the classic snapshot – the kind destined to be stuck on a refrigerator with a magnet or taped in a scrapbook.

But that marble citadel backdrop was a quarter-mile away, behind the surreal photobomb of a dozen camouflaged men with black assault rifles patrolling a 7-foot-high barbed wire fence.

The Capitol is off-limits to the average citizen.

“An open Capitol is an essential part of who we are,” says Chuck Hagel, a former secretary of defense and two-term Republican senator from Nebraska. Historically, the halls are scenes of action, as lines of young schoolchildren on field trips pass overworked staffers, and legislators bolt to elevators to dodge reporters and their recorders – a flurry of “good madness,” as Mr. Hagel likes to call it.

Since its construction, the Capitol has been the personification of democracy: a place for legislative business as well as a symbol of lawmakers’ accountability to their constituents.

Jose Luis Magana/AP

U.S. Capitol Police check IDs at the fence entrance, outside the Capitol during the second impeachment trial of former President Donald Trump, in Washington, Feb. 10, 2021.

But modern fears have eroded the free flow of the democratic space – beginning after 9/11 with Capitol visits confined to designated guided tours, and particularly in the past year of pandemic restrictions and civil unrest.

When the U.S. Capitol and the six surrounding congressional office buildings closed to the public last March due to the COVID-19 pandemic, visitors still toured the outdoor space. Then on Jan. 7, the day after supporters of then-President Donald Trump invaded the Capitol to challenge the congressional certification of Joe Biden’s election victory, fencing started to go up around the complex.

“This is the obvious, easy, and wrong answer to the security problem,” says Jane Campbell, president of the U.S. Capitol Historical Society. “We have to secure not just the building and the people who work in it, but we have to secure our democracy.”

The new status quo?

Historians and lawmakers from both parties worry that the past year’s isolating security measures may be the new status quo – an indefinite militarization. When the fences were erected, the secretary of the Army said they would remain for 30 days, but that deadline came and went this week.

As of Tuesday, 3 miles of 7-foot-high fencing blocked off the Capitol – a protection the acting Capitol Police chief says she hopes to make permanent. For approximately half a billion dollars, 5,000 National Guard troops have been ordered to stay through the end of March to protect against potential unrest over the impeachment trial, according to a memo obtained by Politico, although legislators don’t expect the trial to last more than this week. 

“I don’t think the original architects could have conceived in their minds what we are looking at right now,” says Bill Allen, the former architectural historian for the Capitol. The only other time the buildings on Capitol Hill were enclosed by fencing, says the author of “History of the United States Capitol: A Chronicle of Design, Construction, and Politics,” was in the late 1800s to keep Washington’s roaming farm animals at bay.

Story Hinckley and Jacob Turcotte/Staff

Ms. Campbell points out that ultimately, a permanent fence will be up to Congress: The Capitol Police Board could approve the measure, but it would need to be funded by the House Appropriations Committee. And despite past violence, Congress has stayed committed to the democratic principle of a Capitol freely accessible to citizens. In 1954, after four Puerto Rican nationalists fired shots from the House gallery, there was a debate over installing bulletproof glass between the gallery and the House floor. And in 1998, after a man shot two Capitol Police officers at a security checkpoint, there was discussion about limiting those permitted access to the Capitol. Both of these suggestions were eventually rejected.

But a long-awaited congressional visitors center to streamline visitation through tours, for example, finally received congressional funding after the two officers were killed in 1998. And after the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, the center was redesigned to be larger and more expansive.

Before 2020, the public could enter the Capitol after going through security and registering for a tour with the visitor center – which more than 24 million people have done in the past decade. But the six congressional office buildings have never required tours or security clearance: Before the pandemic, walk-ins were welcome during business hours, and constituents could knock on senators’ doors without appointments, says Ms. Campbell, who also served as a senior aide to two senators. 

Mr. Hagel remembers meeting in his office with representatives from the Nebraska farmers union, who were embittered by the slow wheels of Congress. Mr. Hagel, realizing he had an hour to spare before his next meeting, toured the representatives around the Capitol, showing them the Senate floor, committee meeting rooms, marble staircases, portraits of former leaders, and what he calls the “magic” of the Rotunda.

“When we headed back to the Russell building, they were all very quiet and the union president said, ‘Senator, I’m speechless. I never thought I could see all that,’” recalls Mr. Hagel. “We don’t want that [kind of restrictive] thinking to prevail in our country. We want everybody to know you have a right to walk in that Capitol.” 

This right was on the minds of early designers, says Mr. Allen, as evident in landscape architect Frederick Law Olmsted’s parklike grounds, as well as the prominently placed and welcoming entrances and wide, crowd-accommodating hallways. 

“The people’s access to their Capitol is the physical manifestation of democracy,” said former Sen. Trent Lott, a Republican, on the Senate floor after the 1998 shooting. “It represents something rare and precious, something all Americans take for granted. It represents the bond between those in high office and those who put them there. It represents, in short, our freedom.”

To Ishmeal Alfred Charles, his time as a child recruit in Sierra Leone’s brutal civil war was part of what he calls “the making.”

At some point between 12 and 14 years old, Mr. Charles was kidnapped by the Revolutionary United Front, an army that waged a failed rebellion in the country from 1991 to 2002. He escaped twice – once while waiting to have his hand amputated after being recaptured – only to be seized a third time by a pro-government militia that threatened to shoot him for being a rebel. They released him only after a complete stranger identified him as a student, and he was eventually reunited with his mother.   

Mr. Charles witnessed extreme trauma as a youth, yet he says his adulthood has largely been fulfilling. Today he works as a program director with Healey International Relief Foundation/Caritas Freetown in Sierra Leone. 

“I feel very fortunate in what I do today,” he says. “It brings me a lot of joy.”

Sierra Leone’s civil war spawned a generation of former child recruits and other war-affected youth. Some fell into chronic depression and unemployment, researchers found, while others became lawyers, doctors, entrepreneurs, and, like Mr. Charles, humanitarian workers. 

Why did some recover while others succumbed to trauma? That’s one of the questions Theresa Betancourt set out to answer in Sierra Leone in 2002. Dr. Betancourt is the Salem Professor in Global Practice at the Boston College School of Social Work and director of the Research Program on Children and Adversity. 

Her research is today considered one of the most exhaustive academic studies of the aftermath of child soldiering. With help from Mr. Charles and many others, Dr. Betancourt and her colleagues developed Youth Readiness Intervention, an evidence-based approach that views childhood trauma through a collective frame, one that includes family, community, and culture.

“A lot of the trauma of violence is interpersonal,” says Dr. Betancourt. “The recovery from the trauma of violence is one that takes a lot of social structures into account.”

Healing takes a village

Dr. Betancourt arrived by helicopter in Kono in 2002, just months after the war had ended. A diamond-rich district in Sierra Leone’s east, Kono had been hit particularly hard by the war, with 9 out of every 10 of the district’s buildings destroyed. 

Yet she took the challenging conditions mostly in stride, an adaptability honed growing up in Bethel, Alaska, a remote city of 6,500, the majority of whom are Yup’ik.

“We were minorities out there,” she says. “Growing up in a place like that, I had always been sensitized to the importance of listening to and respecting the dominant culture.”

Bethel’s isolation instilled Dr. Betancourt with a strong sense of the importance of social bonds. “We all had to pull together to make it through,” she says. “I learned to really appreciate collectivity.”

In Sierra Leone, she used this appreciation to frame her research.

“A lot of programs focus on just the child soldiers themselves and not the community systems and family systems,” she says. 

Dr. Betancourt and her colleagues recruited more than 500 war-affected youth for the study, and they’ve been following their lives ever since, conducting follow-up interviews in 2004 and 2008 and again from 2016 to 2017.

They found that the young peoples’ wartime experiences did not necessarily dictate their lives’ trajectories. The degree to which their families and communities accepted or stigmatized them played a major role in shaping their outcomes.

“Healing from trauma is about collectivity,” she says. “One of our greatest strengths is our connection to each other.”

Putting knowledge to work 

Dr. Betancourt and her colleagues’ scholarship was revealing complex patterns of trauma and resilience, but over time they became uneasy with their role as disinterested observers. 

“We started to feel ethically troubled by just watching and not trying to roll up our sleeves,” she says. “Couldn’t we learn something about what we were observing to inform intervention development?”

“Theresa being Theresa, she became really interested in how she could take these findings and use them in an applied manner,” says Adeyinka Akinsulure-Smith, a psychology professor at the City College of New York. 

The two began developing Youth Readiness Intervention (YRI), a collaborative mental health approach that combined research developed by Dr. Betancourt and other social scientists with an understanding of Sierra Leone’s cultural norms and the local mental health infrastructure. 

“She brought in her research,” says Dr. Akinsulure-Smith, who was born in Sierra Leone. “I brought in the psychological piece.”

With Mr. Charles’ help, the program paired with researchers at Caritas Freetown, a Catholic charitable group, in 2010. 

Their study of more than 400 young people found that those who took part in the YRI program were six times more likely to remain in school than those who did not. 

Their model recognizes that mental health resources in Sierra Leone are scarce, so it relies on intensive training of lay workers in conducting group-based cognitive behavioral therapy centered on local cultural concepts. The main goals of the YRIs are to build emotional, interpersonal, and
problem-solving skills with the aim of helping youth excel in school or work.

When participants in the program would feel emotionally overwhelmed, for instance, “we talk about your pot boiling,” says Dr. Akinsulure-Smith. “We talk about maybe you want to remove some of the firewood.”

In contrast to some Western clinical models, the YRI takes a collaborative approach. “The Sierra Leone culture, it’s not just about ‘I, me, myself,’” Dr. Akinsulure-Smith says. “You have an individual who is located in a family who is located in a community. 

In 2016, the National Institute of Mental Health awarded Dr. Betancourt and her colleagues nearly $3 million to launch an expanded YRI study. She and her colleagues are currently conducting a YRI-style entrepreneurship study of 1,200 participants.  

This study is assessing whether and how a YRI approach can be integrated into a national employment program partly funded by the World Bank. So far, participants in a pilot study showed improved interpersonal skills and better emotional regulation.

Paying it forward 

Dr. Betancourt and her research team found that the Youth Readiness Interventions were not only having a positive impact on the participants, but they were also prompting them to share their coping strategies with others.

“Every time we deliver this intervention,” Dr. Betancourt says of the YRI, “the young people feel compelled to help others around them and to share their skills.”

To Mr. Charles, helping others is a way of expressing thanks. “I have been in circumstances where I didn’t believe that things would change,” he says. “When things really changed, I have been really grateful.”

“To survive being captured so many times and yet to be able to live through the difficulties of everyday life in Sierra Leone and those realities are just part of the making,” he says. 

AP

Italian economist Mario Draghi in 2019 when he stepped down as head of the European Central Bank

One reason you don’t see much news about Italian politics is that the country has had 66 governments since World War II. They’ve lasted on average 14 months. Trying to explain this is difficult. As a former prime minister, Aldo Moro once wryly said, “Why the need to understand it? Just report about it.”

We’re happy to report that Italy may soon have its most consequential prime minister in its postwar history. He is Mario Draghi, former president of the European Central Bank who single-handedly rescued the euro during a financial crisis in 2012 by fulfilling a promise to do “whatever it takes.” Now this Italian economist who saved the European Union – earning him the sobriquet Super Mario – has been tasked to save Italy, which faces its worst crisis in decades.

What is easy to understand about Mr. Draghi – unlike Italian politics – is that he has demonstrated openness and transparency in his previous roles, attributes sorely needed in Italy’s byzantine and opaque government. He is described as a listener who is innovative as well as effective in persuading others to take bold action. “If one opts for a short-term course of stabilization, the long-term optimum will never be achieved,” he wrote for his doctorate at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

His stellar reputation as a European leader has already made him Italy’s most popular political figure. He’ll need that popularity and his admirable qualities to run a governing coalition and avoid becoming the short-lived head of a 67th government.

Italy has been particularly hard hit by the coronavirus. Its economy shrank 9% last year and is projected to fall a further 18% this year. Its debt levels are among the highest in the world. Red tape and slow courts make it one of the worst places to invest.

One reason Mr. Draghi was tapped to form a government is that Italy must show by April that it has enough reforms in place to receive $243 billion from the EU to help it end the worst recession since World War II. As the third-largest economy in the eurozone, Italy cannot be allowed to fail. It is also too large to bail out. If its economy implodes, a decadeslong experiment in Continental unity could fail.

A lot rides on Mr. Draghi’s ability to form a consensus among Italy’s fractious political parties. He has enough support to become prime minister. But reversing Italy’s reputation as the “sick man of Europe” will require Italian politicians to rise up to Mr. Draghi’s abilities. The healing can start with the kind of thinking he demonstrated for all of Europe.