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MARIO MONTI visits Washington D.C., the Falcon 9 rocket is launched from Cape Canaveral, France's presidential election campaign heats up and America prepares for the Super Bowl

THE COUNSELLOR to the Washington Institute for Near East Policy on the diplomatic response to the violence in Syria.

IN 2005 all the world's countries signed up, in theory, to a new norm called the "responsibility to protect". In short, the idea is that a government is sovereign because it protects its people. When it cannot do so—or worse, is the perpetrator of mass violence against its own—the responsibility to protect them may devolve to the international community. For a while, this norm was mostly airy, referred to when other countries or United Nations diplomats got involved to stop violence in its earliest phases. But some construe the "responsibility to protect" as a mandate for "liberal interventionism": the right of outside countries to step in militarily when abuses get serious enough.

Now outsiders are clamouring to do something serious about Syria. No one is pushing a military intervention—not even the Western countries sounding the harshest notes about Bashar Assad, Syria's dictator. But two of the veto-wielding members of the Security Council, China and particularly Russia, feel that the "responsibility to protect" has already gone far enough, thank you very much. Last year, they signed on to a resolution that authorised "all necessary means" to protect Libyan civilians from Muammar Qaddafi. That intervention became a NATO-led air war against Libya's regime, and ended with Qaddafi's bloody death at the hands of the rebels. The Russians felt duped.

This is behind the Russian reticence, this week, to sign on to a draft resolution that would have Mr Assad delegate power to his deputy. This is despite strong support not only from a unified West, but from the Arab League, which has suspended Syria. The assertiveness of the league, once a do-nothing talking shop for tyrants, has been striking. It suspended its observer mission in Syria because of threats to its personnel and inability to do a proper job monitoring. Observers hope that a personal briefing by league representatives about the bloodshed will sway the recalcitrant Security Council members.

But the Russians, citing Syria's sovereignty, have shown no sign of budging (which suits the Chinese, who do not like vetoing resolutions alone). The frustrated other members of the 15-seat council are still trying to craft a resolution everyone can agree to. But if they cannot, they have hinted that they will force a vote anyway, to get a Russian veto on the record at least. For those dying in Syria, the manoeuvring must seem absurdly abstract, and Russia's desire for "a peaceful settlement without foreign intervention and with respect to the sovereignty of Syria" somewhere between cynical and downright ridiculous.

(Photo credit: AFP)

ON SATURDAY January 28th the Arab League suspended its observer mission in Syria due the escalating violence by regime forces. The league's chief, Nabil el-Araby, cited the "continuation of violence and exchange of shelling and shooting". Opposition groups said that the regime's forces killed 98 people on Saturday alone. The uptick in violence came as government forces assaulted suburbs of Damascus that had slipped from their control into that of the Free Syrian Army, a group of defected soldiers and armed civilian volunteers.

The mission was already floundering after the league's six Gulf states withdrew their monitors in protest at Damascus's refusal to implement a plan the government had signed intended to end the crackdown. The violence has continued unabated since the observers arrived on December 26th. President Bashar Assad has failed to withdraw tanks from residential areas or to release political prisoners, believed to number in the thousands. The UN last week said it could no longer keep track of the number of people who have been killed in the unrest. Other groups have documented the names of between 6,000 and 7,000 people who have died since March.

On Tuesday Mr Araby will present a transitional plan, backed by European states, to the UN under which Mr Assad would hand power to one of his vice-presidents and form a unity government before elections at some point in the future. Mr Assad's government has rejected the proposal, but diplomats hope that this rejection and the ongoing violence will force Russia to reconsider its support for Mr Assad. So far it has blocked any action in the UN Security Council against Damascus.

TOP celebrity at this year’s World Economic Forum (WEF) in Davos was Sir Mick Jagger, front-man of the Rolling Stones (and longtime Economist reader). At his various appearances in the Swiss Alpine resort, he asked questions, joked, briefly shook his legendary hips, but refused to sing. Had he done so, here are a few tunes from his back catalogue that would have captured the mood.  

“Paint It Black”: Gloom was the official on-stage state of mind at this year’s Davos. The toxic combination of the euro crisis and the ubiquity of longtime Cassandras such as George Soros, Martin Wolf of the Financial Times and Nouriel “Dr Doom” Roubini was more than enough to give anyone a 19th nervous breakdown. In private conversations, however, there was a bit more optimism, though no one was getting carried away. Cautious encouragement was taken from better recent economic news in America and, above all, a shift towards activism by the European Central Bank, which was seen by many as greatly reducing the risk of a catastrophic failure in the banking system.  

“Angie”. She is not his usual type, but Sir Mick has the perfect ballad for the top political star of this year’s Davos. Sadly, Angela Merkel’s keynote failed to answer his question, “When will those clouds all disappear?”

“Some Girls”. There was much comment about the fact that Davos Men still far outnumber Davos Women. (In the Congress Centre, that is, where the serious talking is done. Curiously, at the many Davos parties, the gender balance is somehow evened up considerably, even as the age gap widens.) Aside from the Chancellor of Germany, the most prominent females on stage this year were two pioneers of social media, Arianna Huffington and Sheryl Sandberg, who was talked about less for the upcoming initial public offering of Facebook, where she is chief operating officer, than her long-term political ambitions (Treasury Secretary? President?). According to WEF, the percentage of women participants this year was 17%, which is progress of sorts from 9% ten years ago, but still far too low. At least there is gender parity in the WEF’s new under-30s youth wing, the “Global Shapers”, who were given prominent roles in this year’s Davos.  

“Sympathy for the Devil”. The public image of the sort of political and business leaders who attend Davos has never been worse, and a large part of the agenda was given over to worrying about inequality and how to redesign capitalism to make it produce more inclusive growth and jobs. Yet your correspondent was struck by how many of the capitalists he encountered—especially from the Newt Gingrich-bashed private-equity industry—felt that their current unpopularity was undeserved, so this Rolling Stones classic about why the baddest of all bad guys at least deserves some courtesy would have gone down a treat.

"Gimme Shelter". The Occupy movement has benefited from all that public anger towards leaders. The protestors who turned up in Davos found themselves occupying a few yurts and giant igloos in a coach park a long way from the Congress Centre.  Particularly in need of shelter were three female protesters from Ukraine who removed their shirts to reveal chests emblazoned with slogans such as “Crisis: Made in Davos”. 

Representatives of Occupy were invited to take part in a WEF public meeting, which they tried to disrupt only to be voted out by the vast majority of the audience, who seemed actually to want to discuss how to remodel the capitalist system. The speakers included Ed Milliband, the leader of Britain’s Labour Party, and Stephen Roach, a veteran Wall Street economist.

“Time Is On My Side”. Two dynastic youngsters had a Davos coming out: Howard Buffett, grandson of Warren, is one of the Global Shapers; Chelsea Clinton moderated a roundtable on e-philanthropy. Expect them to become Davos regulars in the years to come. (On the subject of giving, Bill Gates turned up as usual, this year celebrating the 10th birthday of the Global Fund for Aids, Tuberculosis and Malaria, an innovative approach to fighting disease that was born in Davos in 2002. Surprise guests at the celebration dinner included Mr Jagger and notable signatories of the “giving pledge” launched by Mr Gates and the elder Mr Buffett, George Soros and Ray Dallio, boss of Bridgewater, the world’s biggest hedge fund company. Mr Gates gave a vote of confidence to the Fund, which has been criticised for mismanaging money, announcing a new grant of $750m.)

“Street Fighting Man”. A year ago, the start of the Arab Spring caused considerable excitement and enthusiasm in Davos. This year, the focus was more on the difficulty of democratising the Middle East than the potential for positive change. The most upbeat speaker was Hammadi Jebali, the newly-elected president of Tunisia. On the other hand, there was a growing sense that some sort of military strike against Iran’s nuclear program is inevitable this year, probably led by Israel. 

“Start Me Up”. The most optimistic people in Davos came largely from the tech industry, which was represented by some of its biggest stars. As well as Ms Sandberg, there was Eric Schmidt of Google, John Donahoe of eBay, Sean Parker of Napster and Facebook fame, and several faces of European tech, including Niklas Zennstrom, a co-founder of Skype. All seemed convinced that entrepreneurship can answer everything from worries about the shortage of jobs to how to accelerate solving big social problems, from ending disease to giving everyone a decent education.

“Brown Sugar”. An unusual abundance of snow did not deflect Davos goers from their usual drug of choice, alcohol. The dozens of parties in the Belverdere Hotel were as crowded as ever, with the McKinsey and Google parties the best (as usual), though an excellent choice of band enabled PriceWaterhouseCoopers to give McKinsey a run for its money. An event hosted by Skybridge Capital, a hedge fund, in support of an organization combining philanthropy with buying fine wine, was perhaps the best party in the Piano Bar at the Hotel Europe, where in the wee small hours of the morning chief executives can be found leading the singing. 

The big disappointment was the closing gala, hosted this year by Brazil, where before midnight the cocktail waiters ran out of alcohol to put in the caipirinha. This national embarrassment added to the sense that Brazil had put on a poor show in Davos, with its president, Dilma Rousseff, preferring to stay away and instead attend the rival World Social Forum. No such complaints could be heard about Mexico, which the previous night threw a bash where margarita flowed like water, whilst a beaming President Calderon enthusiastically shook hands.  

And to finish? If the choice was made by the public, looking on from afar, Sir Mick surely would have to end his Davos show with that anthem to frustration, “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction.” At the end of five days of big thoughts, fierce debate, countless conversations and almost no sleep, your exhausted correspondent would have settled for “Shattered” followed, with mixed feelings, by “It’s All Over Now.”

AN ACTIVIST in Homs and an analyst in Washington, DC discuss Syria's risky slide towards outright civil war

ONE of the more unpredictable events each year at Davos is the Philanthropy Rountable hosted by Ukrainian oligarch Victor Pinchuk. Last year Damien Hurst had the audience of movers and shakers messily doing art. This year Chelsea Clinton—here in loco parentis—moderated a discussion on e-philanthropy, featuring Eric Schmidt of Google; Sean Parker of Napster, Facebook and The Social Network; Yuri Milner, a Russian internet investor; and Alec Ross, who oversees technology for America's State Department. 

Advertised, but sadly absent, was Tony Blair, apparently "stuck in the Middle East"—hopefully doing something constructive. What he would have added to the discussion is unclear, as even his own wife publicly describes him as "useless" with technology. When Katie Couric, an American news anchor, once asked him, "do you Tweet?" he replied, "Never intentionally."

Still Mr Blair presumably has some familiarity with the role of Twitter and Facebook in last year's Arab Spring, which might have prompted him (unlike Ms Clinton) to ask Mr Milner what he is doing to help bring about a Russian Spring, and Mr Ross what the US State Dept had learned from last year about how technology could be used to thwart Vladimir Putin's attempt to resume the presidency of Russia. 

You might think this all hass little to do with philanthropy, but all of the panelists saw e-philanthropy in broad terms as the way tech can be applied to bring about social change. Mr Parker spoke about his "quarrel" with traditional philanthropy, and questioned with tax-advantaged non-profits are really the best vehicle society has to advance social change. He did not believe that a non-profit would be able to develop the technological tools necessary to create efficient social movements, which is why he structured his do-gooding social network organisation, Causes, as a for-profit. 

Alas, he was not asked why Causes has failed to live up to the early hype that it would transform fundraising for non-profits by making giving and building support for a cause easy. He implicitly acknowledged this slow progress, with phrases such as "early days" and admitting that relatively little money has been raised so far via Causes. One problem, he suggested, is that most non-profits are incapable of making good use of the latest technology and the data it produces. After starting out aiming to get all of America's million-plus non-profits connected, he says Causes will now focus on 10,000 or so he says are sufficiently tech savvy. Will this targeted apprpoach deliver better results?

Mr Schmidt was at his most interesting on the subject of the next generation of Silicon Valley rich, who he says are more concerned about society's problems and much more generous than his own Baby Boom generation. The "one percent rule", whereby a firm gives away 1% of annual profits, 1% of its equity and 1% of its employees' time, pioneered by Salesforce.com and adopted by Google, is now the norm for Silicon Valley start-ups, said Mr Schmidt. Alas, he was not asked what went wrong with Google.org, which was launched with much fanfare as the future of corporate philanthropy, but has since sunk almost without trace.

Mr Schmidt predicts that the mobile phone will be the most philanthropic (in the broadest sense) of all the new technologies, especially once its cost in the developing world falls to around $70. One of the striking things about mobile telephony is that it is already delivering huge social benefits even though it is largely commercially driven, rather than relying on charitable donations or government aid. 

Mr Ross agreed, highlighting how money had been raised cheaply by text to help in Haiti after the earthquake in 2010. He talked excitedly about the benefits of a mobile app that has been developed to let Masai warriors more effectively monitor the menstrual cycles of dairy cows, and thereby greatly increase their productivity. As he rightly pointed out, this is not something that would ever be thought of by government or "in Davos".

Perhaps the most interesting new idea came from the audience where, this being Davos, sat Tim Berners Lee. The inventor of the internet suggested a radical approach to improving the effectiveness of philanthropy through extreme charity: it should become a routine activity, he suggested, that anyone receiving a donation should publish in cyberspace exactly what they do with it, all the way along the line until the money reaches its ultimate charitable destination. Now, wouldn't that be an e-philanthropy game changer?

CAN you write an Economist picture caption? The excellent standard of entries in our previous competitions suggests that many of you can. Here's a new chance for you to see your wit in print.

The photograph above will accompany an article in the Business section in this week's issue. It shows Kim Dotcom (pictured, wearing sunglasses), co-founder of file-sharing site Megaupload. Last week police in New Zealand arrested Mr Dotcom at the request of American officials, who also shut down Megaupload, claiming it encouraged users to share copyrighted content (the firm says that the vast majority of its traffic is legitimate). The eccentric businessman, who changed his name from Schmitz, is reported to have enjoyed a lavish lifestyle: with a mansion in New Zealand, a fleet of luxury cars and a slight tendency to show off.

As before, it's up to you to provide the caption: please leave your suggestions in the comments thread below. The captions should be as short and snappy as possible, and ideally no more than about 30 characters long. The best contribution will appear beneath the picture in this week's print edition, which is published on Friday morning. Entries close at midnight London time on Wednesday evening, so you've got a little more than 48 hours. The winner can truthfully claim to have written (at least a few words) for The Economist. Over to you.

Update: The competition is closed, and the winner has been announced.

Our Business this week news page missed a breaking story yesterday:

America’s political futures market had a turbulent Thursday afternoon when PerryCo, a regional player from Texas, withdrew its bid for leadership of the Republican Party company. PerryCo urged more consolidation in the conservatism industry, and suggested that Gingrich (Limited), a growing concern from the South, was the best placed candidate to take on the job of chief executive.

But Mitt Capitol, a national powerhouse with roots (and homes) in the north-east, south-west and Midwest, could benefit from the demise of PerryCo. A fund-raiser for Mitt told ABC News that now that PerryCo had folded, he can make an approach to the donors that had invested in the Texan start-up. This could bring in even more capital for Mitt Capitol, as it works to seal its takeover deal through an offer to shareholders at a series of general meetings in the states.

Despite a possible loss from a transaction in South Carolina (and some trouble with its tax returns), analysts still think Mitt Capitol will have a very profitable quarter, though the outlook for the rest of the year is less certain.       

IN PUBLIC, at least, the Israeli political establishment has responded graciously to the emergence of a new competitor for power–Yair Lapid, a television anchorman. When Mr Lapid recently announced his decision to set up a new, centrist-secular party, Binyamin Netanyahu, Israel's prime minister, along with Tzipi Livni, the leader of the opposition, and other politicians from whom Mr Lapid hopes to wrest voters all claimed to welcome him into their midst. Pundits, too, generally wished Mr Lapid well in his bid to re-enthuse young middle-class Israelis, many of whom have lost their faith and interest in politics.

Markedly less generous was the welcome accorded to another high-profile Israeli who announced his own entry into the political fray just a day after Mr Lapid’s announcement. Noam Shalit, father of the kidnapped-and-released soldier Gilad Shalit, declared he would run in the Labour Party primaries for a seat in the Knesset–and found himself immediately under attack for cynically exploiting the public's sympathy for him and his family.

His son was captured by Palestinian militants in June 2006. He was held in the Gaza Strip, his whereabouts unknown, unvisited by the Red Cross, for more than five years while his parents, Noam and Aviva, led a ceaseless public campaign, at home and abroad, to procure his release. Their goal was to persuade the Israeli government to trade Gilad for hundreds Palestinian prisoners. The final price was more than 1000 Palestinians handed over in return for the young soldier. Talks with Hamas, the Islamist group that runs Gaza, through a German government mediator, focused less on the lopsided arithmetic of the deal than on the names on the Hamas's wish-list. Israel balked at freeing men responsible for suicide-bombings and other terror attacks during the first intifada.

Noam's pained but serene face, his kindly voice, and his dogged determination became part of the lives of every Israeli family. When he marched to Jerusalem thousands marched with him. When he camped on the pavement outside the prime minister's home, hundreds camped beside him. When in October Mr Netanyahu caved in, many attributed his change of policy to Noam and Aviva's restrained but relentless campaign.

Noam insists now that neither Gilad nor Aviva will have any part in his politicking. His Labour Party membership dates back to the mid-nineties, he points out. His father has long been active in the party. A family of salt-of-the-earth socialists. Why should their five-year nightmare deprive him of his right to compete for a Knesset seat?

But muted mutterings from Mr Netanyahu's supporters about Noam's alleged ingratitude have resonated strongly among politicians and commentators. Granted, many say, Mr Netanyahu has benefited politically from his decision to pay the exorbitant, dangerous price to free Gilad. His poll ratings leapt up and have since stayed high.

It was a risk, nonetheless, and may come back to haunt him if new terror outrages are traced to the released men. The Shalits owe Mr Netanyahu a huge, personal debt. Noam, the critics contend, a model of self-restraint through those tortured years, should have curbed his sudden surge of (pro-Labour, anti-Likud) political energy until Mr Netanyahu leaves the stage.