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| Compassionate
Communism in SE Asia: CC = InE (Cq<D) + (ciCcl) |
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| Chug- slam!
I nearly collapsed the small card table in front of which I was half sitting,
half-squatting. The proprietress of this fine establishment,
which was little more than a collection of child-sized card tables with
correspondingly small plastic chairs in one of the open air markets, shot
my a very unappreciative glance, but so long as my money was on the table,
she wouldn’t say a thing. And anyway, I didn’t care; I’d just had
an epiphany! Staring down at my damp, napkins covered with my scribble,
it all made sense now… CC = InE (Cq<D) + (ciCcl) |
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| “What?” my
newfound friend Lenny said leaning across the table, and barking at me
over the din of the market. |
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| “What?”
I echoed back automatically, still lost in thought. |
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| “What it?
You say, that it! WHAT IT?” |
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| I’d obviously
been musing my discovery out loud. “Oh, nothing,” I replied, but
oh it was something! |
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| Since
my arrival in Vietnam a few weeks ago I’d been on a mission. A mission
that took me on a zigzag trek down the spine of the entire country.
From the big new cities and ancient capitals, to the jungles of the mountains
and cool beaches in the South. By motorcycle, bus, train and hitchhiking,
I‘d slogged along on my quest to solve one of the last great paradoxes
of the modern political world. |
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| How can you
justify maintaining (outwardly at least) lip-service to a failed
social/political/economic order when not only the entire world, but your
very own people, simply want to have a Coke and a smile? In short,
how on Earth can there still be countries that call themselves communist
in our world today? |
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| I’d finally
found that grand unifying formula that could explain the paradox that is
Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, China, and whatever else was left of the communist
world. I had discovered and empirically manifested on my beer and
sweat stained paper napkins the theory of Compassionate Communism (CC). |
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| I had postulated
three basic tenants of this theory.
First and most importantly was that irony does not exist. Second,
that Compassion was an economic function- not an emotional reaction.
Finally, communists are not really communists, but rather capitalists. |
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| I know this
is a lot to take in, but grab a drink or two, pull up a chair and follow
along. I’ll lay it all out for you. |
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| The core to
Compassionate Communism is the Ironic non-Existence coefficient (InE).
Suspending belief in irony is absolutely essential for this theory to work,
and it explained so much of what I’d observed in Vietnam. You have
people going around espousing the communist mantra, but in the markets
under the towering billboards (those ubiquitous communist propaganda billboards,
all featuring groups of comic book, super-hero looking workers, soldiers
and citizens gazing confidently into the future), and next to bronze statures
of Marx, Lenin and Uncle Ho, a myriad of entrepreneurs are hawking items
from every possible fashion designer known to the western world. |
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| The real irony,
I mean the “knock-down, drag-out, kick me in the pants” irony, was
seeing Uncle Ho smiling up at you from a stack of T-shirts wedged between
piles of Calvin Klein and Tommy Hilfiger knock-offs. The irony doesn’t
get much thicker than that. However, I simply figured these were
weeds in the workers paradise. Strangely though, the workers were
far more concerned with maintaining the health of the weeds and letting
the rest of paradise go to hell. As I traveled the country, it was
clear this ironic non-existence was completely woven into the very fabric
of the entire country. |
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| In Hanoi I
took in the Ho Chi Minh museum. I was charged a hefty sum (USD prefered)
for an entrance fee. Here I was paying evil, corrupting, American
dollar to tour a museum that extolled the virtues of communism while at
the same time condemning the evil failures of capitalism. Again,
the Vietnamese simply didn’t seem to notice the irony. To be fair
though, they were in the process of toning down a few of the more virulently
anti-American exhibits. The one that features an Edsel as a symbol
of western capitalism’s failures was closed for “re-tooling.” So
the theory was taking shape… CC = InE |
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| My friend
Lenny provided continual evidence of the second part of my theory - the
Compassion quotient (Cq). |
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| I have assumed
the position that in a CC society, compassion is an economic rather than
emotional function. Simply put, the more money I had, the more compassion
Lenny and his comrades had for me. |
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| “Lenny, want
another beer?” |
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| His eyes lit
up. |
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| “Go get
us a few more and keep the change.” Now there was definitely compassion
in his eyes as he leapt up and ran off to find the lovely proprietress.
Further, the Cq increased in direct proportion to the amount of ‘hard’
currency, anything but the Dong, you might possibly spend. Cq<D |
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| An even better
illustration occurred when I was in Ho Chi Minh City, and I visited the
War Remembrance Museum whose name evolution is the very embodiment of this
Compassion Quotient. Originally entitled the American War Crimes
Museum,
as relations began to thaw with the U.S. and hard currency started flowing,
the name was changed to the War Crimes Museum (sans American). Eventually
the name morphed to the War Remembrance Museum. This, so the rumor
goes, was one of the final issues that needed to be resolved before the
U.S. would fully restore diplomatic relations with Vietnam. |
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|
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| Whatever the
name on the outside, the inside had hardly changed. It may be called
the War Remembrance Museum, but the exhibits inside leave no doubt that
it’s still the American War Crimes museum. No, that’s not exactly
right. If you took only the exhibits into account, you’d assume the
name should be “Look What Those Bastard French and American F-ing Bastard
War Criminals Did to Our Country and Its People (and don’t even get us
started on the Chinese) Museum” or something like that. If all be
told, it may not be too far from the truth. You’ll have to see it
for yourself and draw your own conclusions. At least, when the name
was changed, they were making an attempt to show some compassion towards
the west. CC = InE (Cq<D) |
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| The third
and final component of my theory is that these guys weren’t really communists.
Here was one of the last bastions of the brotherhood/sisterhood of universal
socialism, the workers' paradise, which was in reality more capitalistic
than even the most die hard, free market, NAFTA worshipping, Rush Limbaugh
hugger could possibly hope for or even imagine. |
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| These people
would sell their grandmothers (and I think some of them actually offered
them) if it would bring them some hard currency. To me this was ample
evidence of their true nature as capitalists in communist’s clothes (ciCcl)
-- well, actually knock-off, designer, western clothing. The ciCcl was
the last piece of my grand theory. CC = InE (Cq<D) + (ciCcl) |
|
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| There it was!
In layman’s terms Compassionate Communism (CC) comes into existence
when the Ironic non-Existence coefficient (InE) is multiplied by the Compassion
quotient (Cq<D), which increases in direct proportion to the
amount of hard currency potentially available. This, when combined
with capitalists in communists clothes factor (ciCcl), results in…. Compassionate
Communism! Yes, it all balanced - brilliant! |
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| Trust me,
it makes perfect sense after the fourth or fifth shot of some noxious liquid
the Vietnamese claim is whiskey, but is probably an engine degreaser, followed
by several beer chasers. In any case, the Vietnamese had embraced this
Compassionate Communism with a passion that would make the Pope’s dedication
to Catholicism look like a passing fancy. |
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| “We go
now!” Lenny had finished his drink. In Vietnam you can never
tell if you’re being asked or ordered. “Special day planned ‘cause
you good friend,” and Lenny started guiding me toward his cyclo (one
of those bicycle taxis). What the hell. It wasn’t even 10am,
it was already a bazillion degrees, I’d filled myself with coolant, and
I had at least a few more hours of Lenny friendship before I had to feed
the meter again, so what the hell, let’s see what he’s got planned.
I slammed what was left of my brunch beer and pushed myself upright. |
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| You might
be wondering why I’ve chosen to call it Compassionate Communism.
Fair question, and here’s a fair answer… Why not?! After all
it is my theory. You want a different name, then go make your own
theory. Anyway, I figure if there can be Compassionate Conservatives
in America (a huge oxymoron if ever there was one, and coined by a moron)
then the Vietnamese can have Compassionate Communism. Besides I like
the way it rolls off the tongue. |
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| “Just a
minute, I need to use the toilet,” the combination of spicy food and
libation at this hour in the morning wasn’t exactly agreeing with me, and
before I allowed myself to be jostled about in a cyclo, I thought it would
be a good idea. Patting myself down I realized I was out of that
ever-critical necessity in third world environs… tissue. My eyes
settled on my grand theory masterpiece drawn out on various napkins scattered
across the table. I sighed once and resigned myself to the inevitable.
Oh well, might as well use the theory for something good. I gathered
the pieces of my theory up and hastily headed for the toilet. I figured
I’d ‘re-discover’ my theory or another equally interesting one when I hit
Cambodia - but that’d be another story. |
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