Editor’s Note: The Oslo Freedom Forum, an annual human-rights conference, took place last week, in the Norwegian capital. For Part I of Jay Nordlinger’s journal, go here.
In an elevator, I meet a young man from Belarus — Franak Viačorka. He fills me in on the latest. At the beginning of 2011, I wrote quite a bit about Belarus, which was suffering from a vicious crackdown by its dictator, Lukashenko. There was a National Review piece, plus a three-part online series. (Go here, here, and here.)
Since then, I have not paid attention (as is the way, unfortunately, so often in life).
One of the figures in the drama was Andrei Sannikov, a presidential candidate. Viačorka tells me he was just released from prison: in unrecognizable shape. Obviously, he has been through a mental and physical ordeal. The light is gone from his eyes. They have crushed him.
Accompanying the NR piece was a picture showing Sannikov happily casting his ballot with his wife and young son. To see it, go here.
Viačorka himself has been through a lot in his 24 years. In jail several times. His girlfriend snitched on him to state security for a year. His buddies in the army betrayed him.
After digesting all this — as best I can — I say, “Did you ever see The Lives of Others?” This is the 2006 movie about East Germany and the Stasi. Viačorka says, “They showed it once in Belarus. At the end, everybody stood up and clapped. They did not show it again.”
(For a piece I did on the maker of the movie, Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, go here.)
Viačorka comes from a dissident family. His mother died two weeks ago; his father is in very bad shape (age 50).
What can I tell you? At this link is a trailer of a film — a film based on Franak Viačorka’s life (yes, already). At this link is a documentary about him and the Belarusian struggle.
Franak is a journalist, a Václav Havel Fellow at Radio Free Europe / Radio Liberty. Can I say something about America? Reviled, defamed America? This country has done a lot of good in the world. A lot of people around the world depend on it — cling to it, as to a lifeline.
Remember that, the next time someone — a teacher, a neighbor, a talking head — trashes America to you. That’ll be today, right?
‐Near the Grand Hotel, on Oslo’s main boulevard, is a Ben & Jerry’s. Those Vermont lefties really get around, don’t they? And they are superb capitalists.
And ice-cream makers to the gods. And to the rest of us. Have you tried their S’mores? Mind-blowing. Quite possibly the best ice cream in world history. (Though I remember a grape gelato in Florence, when I was a student. There were flecks of grape skin in it. I think the grapes had been picked that very day. It was almost frightening, so good was it.)
Oslo is also stuffed with TGI Friday’s restaurants and 7-Eleven convenience stores — more than I see at home, actually.
‐Before dinner, the Freedom Forum provides some entertainment — first in the form of Shabana Rehman, a Pakistani-Norwegian comedian. She talks about the trouble she has at U.S. airports, trying to pass through immigration.
“So, you’re a Pakistani-Norwegian comedian?” the official says.
“Yes,” she says.
Skeptical, the official says, “Tell me a joke.”
Shabana says, “Did you hear about the 19-year-old Swedish virgin?”
“No.”
“Neither did I.”
Now, that’s very funny. But can I make a semi-serious point? One very often hears complaints from foreigners about their treatment at U.S. airports. And obviously there is a crying need for reform.
But, you know? We didn’t wish this system upon us, or upon others. We don’t choose to take our shoes off, in order to fly. We’d like to waltz out and waltz back in. And we’d like others to waltz in and waltz out.
But some very nasty people have done some very nasty things to us — and are seeking, night and day, to do more. So, here we are. If the world has complaints — and the world does — the world should direct those complaints to the many enablers of terror.
We didn’t start this.
In her act, Shabana says something about how the U.S. is very good at killing Muslims in Muslim countries. Among other things, I think, “You know? Norway — plucky Norway, a founding member of NATO — has taken part in both coalitions: both the coalition in Iraq and the coalition in Afghanistan.”
Norwegians realize this, yeah?
Whatever my cavils and sniffs, Shabana Rehman, in the Muslim-Scandinavian context, is very, very brave. Very. I’m glad she exists, and is kicking.
UPDATE/CORRECTION: Shabana Rehman writes to say that I misunderstood her on the subject of U.S. airports. She is not among the complaining visitors (though complaining visitors often have a point). She thinks that, if anything, security is too lax.
She also says that her joke about killing Muslims in Muslim countries is that everyone does it: Americans, Muslims themselves . . . (Of course, the U.S. and its allies have protected and saved many, many Muslims’ lives, from Bosnia to Iraq and beyond.)
Let me reiterate how brave Shabana Rehman is. In an amazing incident, one that made headlines around the world, she lifted Mullah Krekar — I mean, literally, physically lifted him, at an event. Mullah Krekar is, in essence, the Osama bin Laden of Norway. He is now in jail. Shabana’s reasoning, I think, was that a person who can be lifted is brought down to earth (so to speak).
Over the years, Shabana has been the subject of death threats. And yet she works and lives and jokes and punctures on. She sticks her neck out, as very few would. If you’d like to check out her website, go here.
‐Additional pre-dinner entertainment comes from John Forté, an American singer-guitarist-rapper. You want a review? Um, I’m off-duty. Music criticism’ll cost you extra. I can say this, though: Awesome dreds.
‐At dinner, I fall in with some splendid Latin Americans. For instance, there’s Javier El-Hage, a Bolivian free-marketeer who is translating Thomas Sowell. How do you like them apples? There’s Mauricio Rodas, an Ecuadorean intellectual who founded an organization called Ethos (promoting democratic capitalism, I believe).
From Venezuela, there is a most elegant couple named Bottome. They’re still hanging in there, in Venezuela. The news from that country has not been good for many years.
More Venezuelans include the Burelli family, some of them — Pedro and two smashing women: his wife, Cristina, and their daughter, Teresa. Teresa’s grandfather was Miguel Ángel Burelli Rivas, a venerable lawyer, diplomat, and politician (foreign minister in the ’90s). He would be terribly proud of Teresa, no doubt.
There is also Nelson Bocaranda, a key, independent-minded Venezuelan journalist. I ask him whether he’s perhaps named for Lord Nelson. No, he says — Nelson Eddy, of whom his mother was a fan.
Well, who wasn’t?
It’s not only that I’m the only non-Spanish speaker in this group, but I’m the only non-native Spanish speaker (I believe). Which gives me a happy memory.
At Davos one winter, I participated in a “coffee” with Álvaro Uribe, the Colombian president (and one of the outstanding men of our time). There were about five of us journalists. Uribe had a few cabinet members with him.
Before we began, it dawned on me that I was the only non-Spanish speaker — the only non-native. Getting to my feet, I said, “This is ridiculous. Why should this entire session be conducted in English, just because of me? You carry on en español, and I’ll just waltz on out and see you later.”
Uribe insisted I stay. And he and all the others conducted the entire session in English — not batting an eye. It was no problem.
There you see an illustration of the primacy of English in the world. (And of the exemplary manners of this group.) Can this primacy last? Well, nothing does, in the mortal world. But native English-speakers are damn lucky in the meantime . . .
And the world’s lucky too, for if there has to be a lingua franca, one could do worse — a lot worse — than Shakespeare’s tongue.
‐What time does it get dark in Oslo these days? About 9:45. Pretty soon, there’ll be sun till 11 . . .
‐At breakfast the next morning, I sit at a table that includes Nick Cohen, the famous British journalist. He’s being interviewed, actually — a couple of us sit and listen to him. Cohen’s latest book is You Can’t Read This Book: Censorship in an Age of Freedom.
He is a man of the Left who excoriates the Left for knuckling under to Islamofascism. (This puts it too simply — too crudely — I’m sure, but it has the virtue of cutting to the chase, I think.) As he makes his points, and illustrates them, he reminds me of Tony Daniels — and higher praise, one can hardly give.
Cohen says that there are many decent people on the left who retain and defend liberal values (tolerance, pluralism, freedom of conscience, etc.). I can’t help being a little skeptical.
I think of an old, old joke, told in NR. It concerns the aforementioned Tom Sowell and Walter Williams (both of them black classical-liberal economists). “They should not be allowed to ride in the same airplane together.” In that spirit, I say, “Nick Cohen and Paul Berman should not be allowed to ride in the same airplane together.”
Liberty-defending liberals — what a glorious phenomenon, too often surprising. I wish Nick Cohen could be on American television every day.
This journal will continue tomorrow. To get Jay Nordlinger’s new book, Peace, They Say: A History of the Nobel Peace Prize, the Most Famous and Controversial Prize in the World, go here.