History sometimes has a sense of humour.
In
one of those uncanny historical parallels, two children of war and
communism who came to lead - and define - their countries died this past
weekend. One will be remembered for entrenching a Cold War divide with
an illicit nuclear programme, the other for presiding over the break up
of the country he had done more than anyone else to liberate from the
Cold War. By the end, in everything other than the temporal proximities
of their deaths, the lives and reputations of
Vaclav Havel and
Kim Jong-il could not be more different.
I
celebrate Havel not just as the sometimes grumpy and irascible
philosopher king of Czechoslovakia - though this would be more than
enough - but also with a profound gratitude for changing the way I saw
politics and the responsibility of the citizen when I read
The Power of the Powerless at
Middlebury.
A good and madly moving book under any circumstances, it was a
profoundly brave book to have edited in 1985 with the Czech secret
police (
StB) sniffing about for anti-communism. I'm looking forward to re-reading it over the Christmas break.
(Awesome. Go and read it.)
Kim
Jong-il was just a tyrannical criminal who apparently ate lobster and
drank cognac whilst 6% of his population starved to death in the 1990s,
more than a million were political prisoners in labor camps, and the
remainder of his population were real and mental prisoners in the
collective punishment that is laughably called the
Democratic People's Republic of Korea. He was also the world's
most accomplished golf cheat,
it now turns out. Or just possibly like the rest of the Hermit Kingdom,
it was merely lying to himself and the rest of us - in between
kidnapping film-makers to make socialist remakes of Godzilla.
Frankly, in an irony that Kim Jong-il as a film buff may have
appreciated, he was such an egregious bad-guy, that if we'd have seen it
scripted in a movie it would've completely lacked credibility. Kim did
like
looking at things, however; fortunately,
so does his son.
So,
this monstrous criminal dies in his private train without any judicial
intervention. And just like that, history steps in and provides a
beautiful juxtaposition of two forms of leadership and moral courage.
RIP, President Havel.