Columbia University protesters Kaimani James He was recently caught on camera declaring that “Zionists have no right to live.”
Like many young people currently disrupting campus and civic life across the country, James’s frustrations go far beyond what’s happening in Gaza. He is a staunch opponent of “white supremacy” and a proponent of “decolonization.” From his self-description as “queer,” we can infer that he shares his usual opposition to “heteronormativity” and a commitment to “breaking down the patriarchy.”
By now we are used to such an attitude. The ambiguity of these terms and their almost universal application applies to everything. do not have “White supremacists? — that’s what makes them funny. Of course, that’s what makes them dangerous.
James apologized for his words. Whether this apology came from his heart or not, the fact that he was forced to make it suggests that a certain level of civility still prevails. Property, institutions, reputations, and careers may all be destroyed in the name of social justice, but eradicating political opponents is a step too far.
Or is it? Today’s American popular culture generally celebrates and encourages revolutionary sentiment while ignoring its excesses. If “white supremacy” as embodied by Zionists, Christians, married people, rich people, and even ordinary white people is such a problem, perhaps eliminating “white people” is ultimately the only real That would be the solution. Maybe James just said the quiet parts out loud.
limited series “A Gentleman from Moscow” Based on the 2016 novel of the same name by Amor Thors, the film is a rare piece of entertainment that delights in depicting what happens when a society follows the logic of identity-based resentment to brutal ends. .
Unlike the producers of “The Handmaid’s Tale,” the team behind “A Gentleman of Moscow” had real history to draw from. The architects of the Russian Revolution did have the opportunity to annihilate their political opponents, and this tactic proved to be very effective, at least for a while.
“A Gentleman of Moscow” begins in 1921, when the systematic extermination of the aristocracy was in full swing. Ewan McGregor, with his thick hair and impressive mustache, plays Count Alexander Ilyich Rostov. Rostov, who went into exile in 1914, made the rash decision to return to Moscow to take care of his grandmother.
The first episode begins with Rostov waiting to appear at the Bolshevik court. Immediately, the young nobleman in front of him was dragged screaming into the courtyard and instantly shot dead. McGregor plays this scene with power and dignified calm. It is clear that he is afraid, but it is also clear that he has the inner resources to overcome this fear.
Whatever Rostov’s shortcomings, this opening scene proves him to be a man of courage and conviction. When he asked why he was living at the luxury Metropol Hotel, Rostov replied matter-of-factly: “Because my house burned down.” He refuses to growl or show false solidarity with potential executioners. “Profession?” asks his interlocutor. “Having a profession is not a gentleman’s job,” says Rostov.
Nor does he accept the moral framework of a potential executioner. Rostov remained cool and witty throughout, often drawing laughter from the assembled witnesses. The only moment of anger we see from him is when the court denounces him as a threat to Russia and its people. morning One of her friends. ”
“A Gentleman from Moscow” shows Rostov living up to this claim. What saved him from being shot in the head was a revolutionary poem attributed to him. Rostov’s punishment is not the death penalty, but permanent house arrest. He is confined to the Hotel Metropole (after being moved from his suite to a drafty, modest attic). If he steps out, he will be shot dead.
The series then follows Rostov over the next three decades, showing how he endures his disadvantaged circumstances with remarkable fortitude and cheerfulness as his country endures the horrors of Stalinism and World War II. The latter is mostly placed off-screen. We spend some time in Rostov’s company, and it’s downright charming – thanks in large part to McGregor’s winning performance.
Was it “fair” that Rostov was born into a wealthy family who could converse eloquently on any topic, know which French white goes best with fish, and appreciate music, literature, and art? ? Probably not, but the Bolshevik answer to such disparities is that no one should enjoy such advantages. It would be better to completely eradicate beauty, wit and sophistication.
In his 2012 book “The People of Once upon a Time: The Last Days of the Russian Nobility” Douglas Smith describes what Russia lost when it pursued a utopian vision of equality and eliminated the ruling class:
The fall of the nobility was one of the tragedies of Russian history. For nearly a thousand years, the nobility that Russians called Belaya Kost, literally “white bones” (our “blue blood”), has supplied Russia’s political, military, cultural and artistic leaders. Nobles served as advisors and officials to the tsar, as well as generals and officers. The nobility has produced generations of writers, artists, thinkers, scholars, scientists, reformers, and revolutionaries. In societies with a less developed middle class, the nobility, relative to its relative size, played an important role in the political, social, and artistic life of the country. The end of Russia’s nobility marks the end of a long and deservedly proud tradition that gave rise to much of what we today consider quintessentially Russian, from the grand palaces of St. Petersburg to the country estates surrounding Moscow. It marked the end. Pushkin preferred Tolstoy’s novels and Rachmaninoff’s music.
American society is organized on much different principles, but it is similarly stratified. It’s just that admission to our elite class is not entirely hereditary. The management of our country by this class over the past 250 years may have been controversial. Our history is one of glorious achievements and ignominious depredations. Then again, whose history isn’t that?
Revolutionary achievement is achieved through destruction. Where they run into trouble is when they are asked to build something. “A Gentleman of Moscow” poignantly evokes a dying culture and reminds us of this grim reality.
