A Loyal American Ponders Leaving the Country

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If there is a difference, it's about the need to respond. "We don't feel the immediacy, the need to do something," he says. "That, I confess, is a great relief to me."

I'd be lying if I didn't admit that Gotlieb's "retired radical" model is an attractive one. Part of the fantasy, I suppose, is to imagine reading about the sins of America from afar and being able to say I refuse to support that with my tax dollars. But I imagine that particular fantasy would be accompanied by an equally powerful sense that I've betrayed those who stuck around to fight. Still, at a certain point, banging your head against that wall becomes less than satisfying, says Jack Ames. A Korean War veteran who left the country in 1965 after many years of antiwar work in New York and elsewhere, Ames expatriated to Australia, where he married and went to work for the Australian Broadcasting Corporation. He's never looked back.

"My decision came in stages. I decided to move to Australia for a couple of years," he recalls, to remove himself (and what small amount of taxes he paid) from a country whose military policies he could not support.

He says he knew at the time that the gesture was mostly symbolic ("and naive"), but it became life changing. "The Vietnam fiasco got worse, and I began thinking about shucking off all ties with the United States," he says. "My premise was that if I were going to stay here, I should take an active part through voting and otherwise being involved in the Australian ethos."

So Ames dumped his American citizenship, signed on as a full-fledged Aussie, and went on with his life. He's been back to the States twice since then, and now, at 72, does not expect to return again.

"I have never placed much value in patriotism," he says, adding, "I love the United States of America. Always have -- the people, not the various administrations."

To hear Robin Pascoe tell it, there's probably no worse reason for fleeing the homeland than a political one. The Vancouver-based "expat expert," the author of five books, including A Moveable Marriage (Expatriate Press), and a highly sought speaker and consultant on the expat life, argues that political issues at home may seem trivial when compared with those abroad.

In many countries, for instance, attitudes toward women range from bizarre to terrifying. Pascoe recalls cocktail parties her husband, a Canadian diplomat, hosted in South Korea during which she was expected to vanish from the premises. And, beyond the personal politics that provide a large dose of the culture shock new expats experience, she says there are few governments abroad that are worth much adulation.

"Utopia doesn't exist," she declares.

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