Underground: Kusturica, Chomsky, America
Emir Kusturica’s 1995 film Underground (English title) or Once Upon a Time There Was One Country (original Serbian title) starts with a raucous parade of Balkan brass and flying money and doesn’t stop for 170 minutes. It thrilled me. I was overjoyed. I woke up and wrote an essay. Underground is pure, brilliant, madness. Humankind is portrayed as such a pathetic, stupid yet charming and fun and creative bunch. I was reminded of Hanlon’s Razor, a principle that could be carved into Humanity’s gravestone: “Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.” It also reminded me of this gem I recently came across from none other than Jesus, “O faithless and perverse generation, how long will I be with you? How long will I endure you.” (Side note: Kusturica himself is a controversial political character) (Double side note: Zach Condon, spirit behind the band Beirut, sited Kusturica films as a major inspiration for his sound).
At some point during the film, the wonderful thief and profiteer, Marko, sends his best friend, Blacky, into a large underground bunker with fifty others. In this warehouse of a brick basement, they try to continue their lives as usual, playing soccer and doing laundry and getting married as WWII rages above them. And then the war ends. Marko, a human man, does not tell the folks downstairs. Rather, he has them continue building guns and ammunition which he sells on the black market for a fantastic profit. He keeps them down there for 20 years—occasionally spinning a contraption that makes the sound of an air-raid—as he continues his affair with Blacky’s love and climbs the new governmental ranks with ease, even building a monument to honor his pal Blacky (Side note: how many statues of petty crooks stand in our world today? Double side note: did you know, after 167 years, Central Park just welcomed its first statue of a non-fictional female?). Marko’s personality and tendencies are a good fit for politics and he relishes the podium, never missing a chance to read his own poetry during an official speech.
I thought of America. Naturally. And our current “culture”. While the distracted and manipulated masses toil underground, the idiotic crooks scheme above. I like to think of the fake air raid noise machine as the 24 hour media cycle’s BREAKING NEWS. This 24-hour news cycle, lest we forget, is a recent invention. One that relentlessly convinces us that an enemy is constantly dropping bombs on us (and not vice versa!) and that constant news-checking—during breakfast, at four in the morning, as our lover gives us a sponge bath—is what a responsible citizen does. The brave purveyors reap splendid profits the more time we are hooked in. (1. I say an extra prayer at night for those who watch cable news every night 2. Question: are you using the news or is the news using you?) As the fake siren blares, we froth at the mouth and curse our mortal enemy. So convinced of the war, we forget that we are underground. Being kept underground by the ones we elected to represent us. Year. After year. After year.
Could we design a government that doesn’t need to be constantly watched like a tiny kleptomaniac in a candy store? Could we design a government that doesn’t attract and create tiny kleptomaniacs? I believe this was the Founding Fathers’ intent (I like how we capitalize Founding Fathers…), but some things have changed since then… and some of their designs have been manipulated. Minor Digression: In his book, The Blank Slate, Stephen Pinker argues that a pessimistic view of humankind is useful in designing government. Double Minor Digression: I teach preschool. One day, a co-teacher told me, “Our job is to set every child up for success.” Imagine a government that does the same. “IMPOSSIBLE” say the people who profit from the status quo.
I thought of Chomsky. Naturally. Marko, the man keeping his friends and family underground for personal profit, is a satisfying caricature of the multi-national corporations and financial institutions who run the world and profit profit profit and once in a while fund a museum underground that the people adore—“Thank goodness for the Sackler Family!” But worry not, friends of justice. As masterfully composed by Kusturika, though the powerful / Marko are above ground, they are slaves to their own disfigured and raging egos. Peace and happiness allude them. And though they are above ground, their lives seem much lonelier than those of the merry bunch below.
If you will allow me another minor digression, dear reader, I would like to summon His Holiness, the Dalai Lama, to inspire our pity for those who seem so unworthy of it. “…Then you also realize that basic human nature is good, is compassionate, and that the person does not want to harm you. So therefore you see their emotion is due to some misunderstanding or misinformation. You see that this person’s actions are due to their own destructive emotions. You can develop a sense of concern, compassion, even feel sorry for their pain and suffering. Instead of frustration and anger you feel sorry for the other person and concern for them.” Thank you, Your Holiness. Excerpt from The Book of Joy.
From Chomsky’s The State-Corporate Complex:
That world, in fact the whole world, is of course always changing, but there are significant continuities and they’re worth bearing in mind. One continuity is that those who control the economic life of a country also tend to have overwhelming influence over state policy. That should be a truism taught in elementary school. It was formed succinctly by Adam Smith in words that I’ve quoted before but are important enough to repeat. He, speaking of Britain of course, wrote that the principle architects of policy are the owners of the society, in his day the merchants and manufacturers, “the masters of mankind” as he called them. And they insure that state policy serves their interest, however grievous the effect on others, including the domestic population, but primarily the victims of what he called their savage injustice abroad, and India was his prime example. That was early in the days of the destruction of India.
You see the pattern. You think “Hmmm yes. This sounds quite lucid… yes. Hmmm. This sounds like… American foreign policing—policy, I mean. Yes. Hmmm.” (Side note: reading Chomsky for the first time felt like drinking clean water for the first time—Optimism Over Despair is a lovely place to start.) (Double side note: those of you decorating balloons for the Canonization of Barack Obama do ignore Chomsky). (Triple side note: I wonder if America will slowly disappear from the Middle East as we shift to renewable energy/ I wonder which poor country and their raw materials will be liberated next).
And here we are, in the basement, it seems to me. Believing that there is a war above us, seems to me. So fixated on this truth of war, seems to me, and the truth that our side is better than the enemy—who are absolutely disgusting and unforgivable monsters—that we cannot even conceive that 1) there is no war 2) someone is deliberately keeping us all underground and scared and incensed for their own profit. So what? What of this grand claim? This observation?
Well, perhaps, we should stop fighting The Imaginary Civil War and start focusing on systems. The systems keeping us all underground. For instance, that we all allow elections to be bought and controlled. For instance, that we allow policy change to go to the highest bidder and such a thing as lobbying is legal. For instance, that we allow Nancy Pelosi to Nancy Pelosi. “Our problems stem from our acceptance of this filthy, rotten system,” said Dorothy Day a long time ago.
Do I think one party is more capable of positive change? I absolutely do. But keep in mind that they too have been bought. And will continue to be bought unless we address the election system. What I’m trying to say is: if you think Joe Biden is cool, and especially cool in aviators, I’d consider whether cable news and the New York Times are the makings of a well-balanced media diet. See if the Chomsky supported Jacobin seems reasonable.
We, the people of the underground, are getting worked. Left and right: worked. Worked by a system designed by and serving the ones in charge. And the rich and powerful aren’t even happy. I’ve seen some of them. And their pale progeny. Lumbering down fifth avenue, curled over phones, drifting into Cartier. Whether we wear red or blue or yellow or purple wool socks doesn’t seem as important as getting outside and breathing fresh air. And breathing fresh air, dear reader, will require creative thinking, discomfort, and some sacrifices. Some imagination. A little bravery. But it is entirely possible. And well worth it. As Underground celebrates in its ending, Balkan brass bands and weddings are best al fresco.
