Roger L. Simon on Prince Harry's Nazi Fancy Dress

MOSCOW--Roger L. Simon: Mystery Novelist and Screenwriter has some interesting thoughts on the British Royal Family's latest embarrassment. We were in England when Prince Harry's Nazi costume photo came out in the Sun with the headline "Heil Harry". The BBC soon had Professor David Cesarani (full disclosure, I met him many years ago when researching my film "Who Shall Live and Who Shall Die?") on the air to explain that it was Rommel's Afrika Corps costume, not an SS outfit, so not that bad. Interesting and true to an extent, but still...

Here's what Simon says:

I think, until quite recently, I was one of those Jews who leaned to not making a fuss when young idiots like Prince Harry displayed an insensitivity (putting it mildly) to my co-religionists. No more. The epidemic is spreading again and I can only nod my head when tabloids like the Daily News refer to him as "Heil Harry." It's time for the Royal Family, everyone's favorite tourist attraction, to go.

The British have changed Royal Families before, from Tudor to Orange to Windsor. Pretty clear the Windsors have reached the end of the line, I agree with Simon. Perhaps the English might start posting "Help Wanted" ads for new royals on Monster.com.

This Nazi Harry thing is symptomatic of the problem with England: now a apparently nation of lager louts, football hooligans and Royal Nazi dress-up party boys, it seems.

The same day the Prince Harry story broke, the Daily Mail had a photo layout of middle-class lads and lassies dead drunk on their faces or vomiting like the star of "Team America World Police." And a big profile of the latest show at the Royal Court Theatre--an exhibitionist who invited men from the audience to peform a live sex act with him in Sloane Square on opening night, then went out and did it in front of the remains of the audience. The writer pointed out that the Royal Court theatre has a big government subsidy from the Arts Council, and National Lottery, so it was British Taxpayer's Dollars At Work. We went through this kind of thing in the USA in the 1990s--how stale, stupid, and pathetic.

Plus the big TV show is "Desperate Housewives." Yuck.

The only redeeming sign was a poster announcing that Trafalgar Square would become Red Square on January 15th, with a Russian Winter Festival. We flew back to Moscow that day, back in a country that at least still takes culture seriously. On the TV news we watched Ken Livingstone and the Russian Army Chorus (formerly the Red Army Chorus), singing national songs. All the TV channels carried it here, and all the Russian anchors seemed very proud...

Whew.

Something Nice About England

All right, I've complained enough about the crap culture here, (didn't even mention that last week's Time Out's cover had a pull quote from Dustin Hoffman about rigging 'an exploding fartbag'). But there are some good things, at last, to talk about.

First, is The Original London Walks.

I took one the day before yesterday of Sherlock Holmes' London. The tour group was composed of about a half-dozen Americans and a couple of Russians, who were fans of the Russian Sherlock Holmes tv series. Our tour guide was a wonderful old trouper, a British actress between jobs--she most recently played Hecuba on tour--who was perfectly costumed in a cape, Mary Poppins-type cap, with capacious handbag and umbrella. At various points we'd stop and she's sing a song from Gilbert and Sullivan, or recite a text from a Sherlock Holmes story. We even saw photos of the "fairies" that fooled Arthur Conan Doyle into thinking they were scientific proof--the author was not exactly a Sherlock himself.

The guide even was wearing a silk scarf from Uzbekistan, in the national Ikat design, that her husband had brought her as a souvenir. A nice touch, as it was a Tashkent connection. So, if you are in London, and you see 'Corinna' listed as a guide for a London Walk--run, don't walk to take the tour.

The next day my wife and I took the London Walk through 'Little Venice.' Also led by a British Actress, more pop culture than the other tour, with Paul McCartney's flat, and other showbiz sites along the canal. Sort of Beverly Hills on the A40 Motorway: Michael Flatley, a Pink Floyd musician, Princess Di's brother, etc. Homes 3 million to 12 million pounds, next to council flats, behind Paddington station. Highlight was beautifully restored St. Mary's Church, Paddington, where John Donne preached his first sermon, Sarah Simmons is buried, and Emma Hamilton of Lord Nelson fame wanted to be entombed. Unfortunately, she never made it back to England, though she did get a memorial fresco on the church hall. Also well worth while.

Then to the National Portrait Gallery, which has a terrific underground coffee shop and bookstore where the coal cellars used to be, and a great exhibit of famous English people including my friend Colonel Burnaby, author of A Ride to Khiva, the Uzbek connection again. And Emma Hamilton, of course.

After that, the National Gallery, simply magnificent these days, chock full, open till 9 pm on Wednesday nights -- and the food in the little cafe next to the National Portrait Gallery is excellent, we had supper there, cheese plate and pate. Bookstore didn't have too much on American art, was looking for Robert Hughes' American Visions to take back to Moscow for my class, the clerks didn't know who Robert Hughes was, and never heard of the book, which is surprising considering it was a BBC series. The BBC hasn't put out a video or DVD, which is a shame.

Finally, we ended up at RC Sheriff's Journey's End, now playing in the West End. It was a good solid production of a good solid show, very serious, no crap, thankfully. Acting not great, but it has been running two years. One slight problem is that Blackadder's sendup of WWI genre undercut the evening a little, we kept waiting for Rowan Atkinson to pop up and say 'Hello, Darling!'. But of course Sheriff came long before WWI was a laughing matter, and the play is really worth seeing. The nicest part was the groups of English schoolchildren in their uniforms waiting for buses on the pavement outside afterwards--and there were a lot of Britishers in the audience, which is a nice experience.

So, it seems England is not all Jerry Springer, after all.

BTW, our tour guide told us that the Original London Walks company is owned by an American...

The CBS Rathergate Coverup

Just caught Glenn Reynold's links on Instapundit to the CBS Rathergate report, and although the lawyers don't think it is too bad because of the damning details, to this reader, two major points -- (1)that the report fails to find a political agenda and (2) fails to find that Dan Rather's documents were forgeries -- indicate to me that it is still part of a continuing coverup.

Thinking of going back to Moscow to teach about America, where we say we have honest media and not propaganda, makes me even more upset that this sort of eyewash would even be accepted by the critics as a good faith effort. Only a report that admitted there was a political agenda and the documents were forgeries could possibly be acceptable to a reasonable person.

I hope this is not the end of this story...

What's Wrong With These People (continued)

Trying to find some books to take back to Moscow for my American studies course led me to a tour of London bookstores: Waterstone's , Border's (yes, Borders is big here), and Foyle's. It was a little disappointing, too.

Years ago, the big Dillon's near the British Museum was something really special for an American. Now, the people at the information desk didn't know who Piers Paul Read was when I asked for his book...

The American studies and media studies sections were just filled with Hate Bush, Hate American crap. Chomsky piled everywhere.

And the same at the other bookstores. At Foyle's I asked if the publishers paid for Chomsky to be at the checkout counters on the 2nd floor. Oh, no, she answered. It just sells better there. The problem is that Chomsky is absolute crap, and that like Jerry Springer, the British seem to have embraced it with a passion.

So, except for Alistair Cooke, practically nothing decent to take back. Instead, we got some history books--Foyle's is the least bad of the bookstores, the most old-fashioned and they did have Piers Paul Read on the Knights Templar.

Another symptom of Crappy England: The Sunday Times published an interview with a Porno actress. Charming. The Thunderer become The Wanker, it seems...

Still there are some good things. After a lunch at Brown's near Leicester Square, we walked across the footbridge to the South Bank, and after declining to pay 35 pounds for a ticket to Alan Bennett's "The History Boys" (we bought a copy of the play in the bookstore for 8 pounds), had a cafe latte at the National Film Theatre bar, since the movie tickets cost 8 pounds each, a bit stiff for us Yanks--then took a double decker bus home, using our unlimited travel card. This is a real pleasure, just hop on and off buses and tubes anywhere, really makes sightseeing easy, and each time you save 1 pound 20 pence it is a little bit of heaven.

The papers have forgotten the BBC controversy and the Tsunami for a grisly New Year's murder in Cambridge, the suspect just committed suicide, and a Tony Blair-Gordon Brown confrontation, something that was in the paper a year ago when we were last here. At least some things don't change.

What's Wrong With These People?

Culture shock in London. Especially after Moscow.

The big news seems here to be that the BBC broadcast Jerry Springer: The Opera last night. It is a West End musical starring David Soul (Starsky and Hutch) that contains some 300 swear words and depicts Jesus Christ wearing a diaper and as "a bit gay."

This is the kind of camp stuff that was going on the in USA in the 1990s that almost led to the elimination of the National Endowment for the Arts. Now the BBC has gotten some 40,000 protest letters and the Conservatives want to punish the network.

The whole thing seems pretty stupid in a world after 9/11. Radio Four had an interview with David Soul and a Christian critic, and there was a time warp quality. Don't we have more important issues facing us right now than Jerry Springer? (Is he still on the air?) Plus the Christian was saying the BBC should do good, high-quality stuff and the American tv actor was saying the BBC should air crap. How embarrassing! American TV can air crap, but if the BBC has any justification for its existence at all, it is that it shows good TV.

The tube is full of advertisements threatening people that they will be fined 1000 pounds if they don't pay their BBC licence fee. Sitting on the train, you stare at a poster saying something like 'We have a database of every television license in England' and the TV police will track you down if you don't pay up.

I interviewed Michael Grade, now head of the BBC, when I did my Masterpiece Theatre book--he produced some wonderful British classic costume dramas for the Mobil Corporation. Now, as George Bush the First used to say, his BBC is in 'deep doo-doo'. No wonder people are mad--they can go to jail here if they don't pay the BBC for Jerry Springer.

No wonder, that London seems paradoxically crappy. There's still the charming English historical stuff, but contemporary British culture seems to be pure 'rubbish,' to use an old-fashioned English term.

We didn't see the Jerry Springer BBC TV special because last night we went to the Royal Shakespeare Company's production of Romeo and Juliet at the Albery Theatre in Leicester Square.

Not much better. We walked out at halftime. The best thing about it was the nice old West End theatre. Juliet was a poor man's Gwyneth Paltrow, Romeo noone at all. The production was of the dreadful Shakespeare's Bawdy codpiece-grabbing smutty school that is all too widely spread in the US. Leering and bellowing. Yuck.

Perhaps this reflects a past power struggle at the RSC. A couple of years ago we saw some terrific productions in the Barbican. Then it was announced they were shutting down due to some sort of god-knows-what British intrigue and financial problems. They were completely closed in London for a long time. We eagerly awaited the RSC London reopening. Because we were there on the last night in The Pit, when the RSC actors cried and recited Prospero's speech from The Tempest about revels being ended. It was fantastic, memorable, theatrical, emotional. Brilliant.

That was then. Now, the RSC seems to have reinvented itself, almost the Jerry Springer Shakespeare Company.

The capper to our lousy night at half of Romeo and Juliet was seeing the homeless people camping out in the subway tunnels leading to Charing Cross tube station. The scene reminded us of New York City before Mayor Giuliani.

What's wrong with these people?

Inside the Middle Temple

LONDON, January 8--Our sightseeing began with lunch in the Middle Temple, one of the four Inns of Court that make up the London bar--scene of Rumpole of the Bailey and Dicken's novels like Barnaby Rudge. After lunching with two British barristers (without wigs, disappointed that we weren't potential clients I suspect), thanks to some American legal friends, we trekked over to the Temple Church, located in the Inner Temple--where the Paschal Lamb turns into the Crusader's Horse. Buried within were Crusader Knights Templar. They rented out their headquarters to lawyers centuries ago to make some money to support themselves. The crusaders are gone, the lawyers remain. Half of the signatures on the American Declaration of Independence were by Middle Temple members, including John Hancock. So there is a historical link between Crusaders, English law, and the existence of America. Bin Laden's anti-American rhetoric about Crusaders and Jews has some sort of historical roots, that all of Bush's pro-Muslim chatter can't erase. After the Nazi Blitz (Hitler was allied with the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem, of course), the American Bar Association paid to reconstruct the Middle Temple hall from the splinters remaining. The photos on the wall show a pile of rubble at the end of WW II. Incredibly, it looks like the original today. Will be buying Piers Paul Read's book on the the Knights Templar, spotted at Waterstone's...

Also worth noting, Alistair Cooke's "Letters from America" collection is number two on Waterstone's bestseller list. Even after his death, it seems Alistair Cooke still can put out a best-seller. I interviewed Cooke for my book on Masterpiece Theatre, and he really was a remarkable storyteller and sophisticated in every way. I hope the book gets some play in the USA.

The Sharansky Plan

An excellent interview with Nathan Sharansky in Middle East Quarterly. His discussion of the Jackson-Vanik amendment is to the point, after living in Russia for a few weeks, what he says seems very true...

Pandemic

A shameless plug for a relative's book: My cousin Daniel Kalla's new thriller about terrorists spreading killer diseases is coming out in February, at a bookstore near you. He's a real-life ER doctor, so knows his germs... 

The Snow Maiden

No Novi God is complete without seeing Rimsky-Korsakov's opera, "The Snow Maiden" and so we did, last night, at the Novaya Opera (Moscow's answer to New York's City Opera) in Hermitage Park. It was a lovely show, romantic story, all about how love melts the Snow Maiden's frozen heart of ice (she is the daughter of Grandfather Frost and Spring), how she suffers for love, teased by the shepherd boy Lel, and finally dies for passion when she kisses the noble Mizguir. There were a few technical glitches, a ball symbolizing the Snow Maiden's heart rolled off the stage into the orchestra pit, some fabric icicles fell onto the set, and there was a a loud crash at one point, but the troupers kept singing away, and the lovely score and singing more than made up for the problems. If you ever come to Moscow, the Novaya Opera is highly recommended, plus the lady at the ticket office is very nice, tickets are inexpensive, and the auditorium, foyer and bar are just delightfully designed with waterfalls, bells, and a real live Novi God tree.

BTW Taking a clue from the Russians, we are taking our own Novi God vacation to London for a few days, so there might be a break in blogging for the next week or so...

Carnival Night

When I asked my students what movies they watched at Novi God, they named two. The first was "Irony of Fate." (scroll down)

The same director, Eldar Ryazanov, made their second favorite film, which was broadcast on Russian television yesterday—the 1958 musical comedy "Carnival Night."

Released in 1958, "Carnival Night" reflects a post-Stalin thaw during the 1950s, and like "Irony of Fate" pits human warmth—love, romance, beauty, charm, humor, entertainment of all kinds—against an inhuman and rigid bureaucracy, in this case represented by the pompous and clueless commissar in charge of a Dom Kultury (community cultural center) responsible for staging a New Year’s carnival show. But the commissar wants jazz musicians replaced by pensioners, ballerinas to cover their legs, a lecture on whether their is life on Mars instead of a comedy act, and so forth.

Of course hilarity ensues, in best MGM musical fashion. The commissar is tricked numerous times by the rest of the gang, who put on their show despite his attempts to stop it. They get the better of him in every way, to the point that the commissar appears after the film’s final credits to announce to the audience: "I am not responsible for anything that you may have seen on screen."

"Carnival Night" reflects the hopeful side of the Russian soul: romantic, charming, and beautiful. Now wonder it is shown every New Year. Indeed, I recognized one of the musical numbers, "5 Minutes to Midnight" from the Novi God variety TV special that preceded Putin’s televised address—at 5 minutes to midnight.

The themes of "Carnival Night" are timeless and universal.

Two other holiday favorites seem to be "The Three Musketeers" and "Sherlock Holmes." The French adventures are running in some kind of marathon on a number of channels in Russian and dubbed versions, serials, and musicals. "Sherlock Holmes" is on DTV, sponsored by Ahmad tea, which gives you “a taste of London.” The ads show a London couple playing a grand piano duet, then pausing for a cup of tea before glancing at Big Ben to check the time, and then romantically at one another, a rather Russian perspective on tea-drinking rituals in Britain.

Meanwhile, outside, our local Hermitage park, which contains the Hermitage theatre where Chekhov’s "The Seagull" was performed, has put up two ice-skating rinks. The Russians just fence in a snowy area, then flatten the snow into ice with scrapers. Result: one can ice skate along paths through the park, and sit on benches as skaters dance around you. Absolutely charming.

We saw this sort of scene on TV in the Novi God film "Pokrovsky Gate". A Moscow communal apartment is demolished to make way for a high-rise, and the film shows what life was like in the old Moscow. All the colorful characters who lived in the apartment, their romances, and their conflicts. One scene, set at Novi God, featured ice-skaters around a couple of characters on a park bench. Another had hospital patients dancing on crutches! Not quite Ryazanov, but not a bad imitation.

A Sober New Year in Moscow

News of a Russian bus accident in the Baltic states on New Year's eve, killing ten children, added to an already solemn undertone to this year's Novi God festivities in Russia, still in shock from terrorist attacks, the loss of the Ukraine, and the tsunami that swept through tourist resorts.

President Putin, in his annual New Years Message, made an oblique reference to the Beslan tragedy, in his otherwise optimistic statement from the Kremlin--a ritual that is some sort of cross between our own State of the Union speech and a New Year's toast. It was broadcast after hours of lively vaudeville shows featuring drag acts, singers, and comedians. Abruptly the party ends, and immediately there was Putin, dressed in a dark overcoat, standing outside the Kremlin palace, clocktower over his shoulder. Five minutes to midnight. The breath forms frosty clouds as he speaks to wish the nation a happy New Year. Then the Russian anthem, and fireworks begin in Red Square. They lasted until 3 am at various locations around town. No one got up very early on January 1st, 2005 in Moscow.

Interestingly, the first television channel broadcast a retrospective of past New Year's addresses, beginning with Brezhnev. From Brezhnev to Gorbachev, they looked very Soviet, formal, sitting behind a desk. An interviewer said that nobody listed to anything but "S'novim Godim!."

Then, the clips from the Yeltsin era were completely different. In fact, the first favorable coverage -- really any coverage -- of Yeltsin that I've seen on TV (Stalin, by contrast, is everywhere). He was relaxed, joking the the camera crew, demanding a glass of champagne for the rehearsal of his New Year's toast. It looked like everyone was having fun...

Then came Putin, standing outside in the cold, not drinking, not smiling, projecting a sober concern for the country and its future.

This year, for the first time, alcohol was banned at Red Square's outdoor New Year's celebration.

Troika Ride, Novi God, 2005, Moscow (photo by Nancy Strickland) 

Happy New Year!

Here in Moscow fireworks, and car alarms, have already been going off all over town. Kids shoot off rockets from streetcorners, they explode right in front of our window on the street. BANG! and then the car alarms follow.

Strange, considering the pervasive fear of terrorism, that they sell fireworks all over Moscow--and not just cherry bombs, lots of giant rockets--almost everywhere, and they are shot off in parks, on streetcorners, almost anywhere.

Putin announced his big Novi God present for Russia--ten days of paid vacation from January 1st to 10th for all workers. Everyone is very happy about that, as Russian Orthodox Christmas is on the 7th and New Year on the 12th. All offices and government buildings will be closed, but concerts, museums, and cultural activities, such as the Russian Winter music festival at the music conservatory and Tchaikovsky Concert Hall, will continue as usual.

We can't give you ten days of paid vacation, but we wish all our readers a happy, healthy, and peaceful New Year. May your dreams come true in 2005...

The Tsunami Tragedy

Russian television news has broadcast extensive coverage of the tsunami in the Indian Ocean that has killed thousands of people so far, leaving many more homeless.

The Russian government is shipping aid to Southeast Asian nations affected by the killer wave. TV news features massive Russian cargo planes being loaded with supplies. It's not just politics. Among the victims were Russian tourists, spending the Novi God holiday in the warm climates of India, Thailand, Sri Lanka, and the Maldives. TV news featured Putin meeting with is minister of emergency affairs, other ministers, spokespeople for travel agencies, and the families of loved ones lost in the worst natural disaster in years. When Putin gets involved personally, on TV (they show him talking to his ministers at a little table, actually discussing the actions government will take, not simple photo opportunties like in the US), it is a high priority for the government of Russia. Russia also has a history of friendly relations with India and other nations in Southeast Asia (remember Vietnam?).

The footage of death and destruction Sri Lanka has been affecting, particularly since two years ago we stayed at the Bentota Beach Hotel, in the southern part of the Island. Our rooms was on the ground floor, right on the beach, and we can imagine the horror facing tapped tourists in their last moments. There are very few roads in Sri Lanka, and it would have been difficult to evacuate the coastal villages, even with proper warning. The tragedy is all the more horrible because Sri Lanka has faced years of civil war between the Hindu Tamil Tigers and the the Buddhist majority. That is why our hotel cost only $20 per person, while a similar room in the Maldives cost about a thousand dollars.

It was Tamil tigers who pioneered the use of suicide bombers. And they kept at it until India dropped support after the assasination of their prime minister by a Tamil extremist (the Tamils originally come from Tamil Nadu, a state in India also hit by the tsunami). Without state support, the terrorism and extremism dropped off. A lesson for our own war on terror, and a reminder that suicide bombers are not peculiar to Islam.

By the time a temporary cease-fire took effect a couple of years ago some 60,000 Sri Lankan's had been killed in Tamil Tiger violence.

Rothschild's Fiddle

Last night, saw a theatrical adaptation of Anton Chekhov's short story,Rothschild's Fiddle, at the Moscow Theatre of Young Viewers.

The show was directed by Kama Glinkas in a very un-Stanislavsky style, more like contemporary New York-- lots of mugging and prancing around on big symbolic set that looked like Samuel Beckett as furnished by Ikea. The theatre program didn't have much information, but published a rave review from the New York Times, which give you some idea...

Chekhov's story is a parable of Russian-Jewish relations, and while this production was kind of distracting (there is also an opera and a film, my google search shows) it was thought-provoking and worth seeing.

Moscow is not exactly a Jewish city, but there is still a Jewish presence, even after years of emigration. Mayor Luzhkov was on TV lighting the Hannukah menorah with Russia's Chief Rabbi, Beryl Lazar, who looks like a Lubavitch from Brooklyn (though the sect originated here). The old choral synagogue in Kitai Gorod has been restored, and a gleaming steel and glass new synagogue is under construction near fashionable Tverskoy Boulevard. A holiday television special featured Russian Army soldiers holding hands and dancing to a rendition "Hava Nagila".

And yet, somehow, "Rothschild's Fiddle" reminds one that Russian-Jewish relations are complicated, have not always been nice, and subject to sudden change...

Irony of Fate

Last night the Russia TV channel broadcast IRONY OF FATE, OR ENJOY YOUR BATH! a 1975 romantic comedy directed by Eldar Ryazanov. This films is the "It's a Wonderful Life" of Russia, shown every New Year (yesterday was only the Western Christmas, Russian Christmas is January 7th). The story is about two people who accidentally meet, against all odds, as a result of the soulless conformity of Russian architecture and urban planning, when a drunken surgeon flies to St. Petersburg after a night drinking with friends in a banya. He gets in a taxi and goes to his home address (from Moscow), puts his key in the door, opens it--and meets a lonely 34-year old Russian Literature teacher who becomes the love of his life, after some stormy confrontations with her, her boyfriend, and her mother...

It is Russia's favorite movie, and says a lot about the strength of the human spirit in an oppressive and inhuman environment, understandable even to an American with only rudimentary Russian...

Happy Holidays to Roger L. Simon: More Moscow Musings...

Roger L. Simon: Mystery Novelist and Screenwriter ran a nice plug for us on his blog, which has shaken some writer's block--no doubt caused by Culture Shock and adaptation to the Russian Winter.

So, as turnabout is fair play, take a look at his analysis of the AP's problems in covering the war in Iraq.

And since Roger says he likes reading what I have to say about Russia, here are some more thoughts:

Of course, almost everyone in Moscow is on the side of the AP, viewing the toppling of Saddam Hussein, the bombing of Yugoslavia, the support of Georgia and Ukrainian independence as American agression against Russia. Iraq was sort of Russia's Saudi Arabia, an oil partner and Middle East ally, so it sort of makes sense from their point of view. But they don't understand that American's don't see it the same way.

The problem is the same as the one De Tocqueville described in 1835:

There are, at the present time, two great nations in the world which seem to tend towards the same end, although they started from different points: I allude to the Russians and the Americans. Both of them have grown up unnoticed; and whilst the attention of mankind was directed elsewhere, they have suddenly assumed a most prominent place amongst the nations; and the world learned their existence and their greatness at almost the same time.

All other nations seem to have nearly reached their natural limits, and only to be charged with the maintenance of their power; but these are still in the act of growth; all the others are stopped, or continue to advance with extreme difficulty; these are proceeding with ease and with celerity along a path to which the human eye can assign no term. The American struggles against the natural obstacles which oppose him; the adversaries of the Russian are men; the former combats the wilderness and savage life; the latter, civilization with all its weapons and its arts: the conquests of the one are therefore gained by the ploughshare; those of the other by the sword.

The Anglo-American relies upon personal interest to accomplish his ends, and gives free scope to the unguided exertions and common-sense of the citizens; the Russian centers all the authority of society in a single arm; the principal instrument of the former is freedom; of the latter servitude. Their starting-point is different, and their courses are not the same; yet each of them seems to be marked out by the will of Heaven to sway the destinies of half the globe.

This insight was repeated 175 year later by Dmitri Simes, in "After the Collapse: Russia Seeks its Place as a Great Power," when he observed:

Russia derived little material benefit from its imperial possessions. This was a consequence of the fact that Russian empire building was primarily driven by the needs of an absolutist government to expand its reach, not an outward flow of merchants or settlers. Its dynamics were precisely opposite to the building of the American nation.

Until Americans and Russians realize they are still using different "operating systems," misunderstandings between the two nations are bound to continue.

Just yesterday, an educated Russian told me that the solution to the Ukraine crisis will be for the Crimea to secede--since it was a mistake for Kruschev to give this historically Russian territory to Ukraine in the days of the Soviet Union. This was not government propaganda, but dinner table conversation...

Merry Christmas from the Diplomad

The Diplomad reflects on the meaning of Christmas in an American Embassy:

"As an American Jewish kid I just assumed I was destined to grow up to be worshipped or be Master of the Universe. But, sigh, I took the Foreign Service exam instead, and got married, and have voted straight Republican since 1972. I know, I know, I am a disappointment to my people, all those hopes and dreams . . . shattered!

"Life's too short. Everybody enjoy and let others enjoy the great freedoms we have. And every Jewish kid in America should have on his wall the names and pictures of the greatest friends the Jewish people ever had: Washington, Jefferson, Madison, Adams, Reagan, Bush and the millions of GIs who tore the guts out of Hitler's war machine and whose grandchildren continue to keep us free."

Leon Aron on Ukraine's Election

In Moscow, it would seem that many here agree with whatLeon Aron writes about tomorrow's election in the Ukraine. The country is divided between Russian-speaking Orthodox in the East and Ukrainian-speaking Catholics in the West. (This religious division is one of the fault lines in Samuel Huntington's Clash of Civilizations):

"By the same token, those among Yushchenko's more radical supporters in Ukraine and the West who advocate the abrupt removal of Ukraine from the Russian sphere of influence must face the facts. In addition to the cultural, linguistic and ethnic bonds (there are 8.3 million ethnic Russians among Ukraine's 48 million citizens), economic imperatives are straightforward.
In what amounts to perhaps the world's largest, albeit unheralded, bilateral assistance program, Russia supplies Ukraine with oil and gas at prices that are way below the world market's. The precise size of Ukraine's overall debt for oil and gas is anyone's guess, but conservatively it cannot be less than $2 billion to $3 billion. (By contrast, the U.S. annual assistance to Ukraine is $150 million.)

"Millions of Ukrainians work in Russia (often illegally) and their remittances provide a significant although largely uncounted portion of the Ukrainian gross domestic product.

"To his credit, as an underdog Yushchenko has been very considerate of the feelings and preferences of his Russian-speaking compatriots. As a favorite going into the new election and, especially, as the victor, he must redouble the effort of projecting moderation, restraining his more radical supporters and proffering the olive branch to those who voted for his opponent. He might, for example, try to assuage fears of 'de-Russification' by saying that regions themselves ought to decide if Russian should be their second official language.

"In the end, only courage, imagination and hard work will stave an upheaval."

S'novim Godim!

Moscow is ablaze with decorations--Grandpa Frost and Snow Princess riding in troikas, giant evergreen trees sparkle with blue lights at major intersections, shops and businesses atwinkle with tinsel and flashing displays.

Also, lots of roosters, chicks, and even little bunnies, as well as babushkas selling dead branches that bloom when placed in a vase of water.

New Year, seems to be a secular Christmas and Easter combined. The Russian calendar takes from the Orient as well as the West--the coming Year of the Rooster is of Chinese origin--and one becomes aware that Eurasia is not just a figure of speech, but a real place, where East and West (contrary to Kipling) meet. For example, Moscow has so many seasonal displays because it is required by law. Shops and businesses that don't put up a holiday bush or colored lights by December 1st are subject to a fine. Which makes for some interesting sights. Such as the Tsimmis Shtetl-themed Jewish restaurant (it has a kosher kitchen) featuring two Christmas trees (Hannukah bushes?) at the entrance--one inside, and one outside...

Happy Holidays!