Isegoria

Ask not for whom the bell Dengs, it Dengs for Lee, says Joseph Fouche:

Charlie Rose interviewed the former Prime Minister of Singapore Lee Kuan Yew the other night. Rose asked Lee who, out of all the world leaders he had met, he most admired. Lee answered that he admired Deng Xiaoping for his adaptability. Lee related an anecdote about Deng’s first visit to Singapore in 1978. Deng was surprised by Singapore’s prosperity, which his brief had not adequately covered. Deng asked Lee how he had made Singapore so prosperous. Lee replied that they had attracted foreign direct investment due to Singapore’s cheap (at that time) labor costs. They then became subcontractors then contractors then competitors, learning as they went. Deng observed that Lee had created an egalitarian society using capitalism, an observation Lee seconded. Deng then went back to China and, Lee implies, applied the Singapore model to China with the side effects the world has experienced since.

If this implied influence on Deng is accurate, it makes Lee one of the most influential figures of the twentieth century, all from a little dot south of the Malay peninsula. Lee is often times considered the most effective authoritarian of the late twentieth century, the sort of man that, if they could be produced on demand, would doom democracy.

Charlie Rose has interviewed Lee Kuan Yew three times. The most recent interview is not yet online, but the 2004 and 2000 interviews are.

It may have ended 20 years ago in the then-Soviet Union, but the Cold War never ended here in the West:

The countries held captive by Moscow began their long road to economic and cultural recovery, and to reunification with liberal Europe. But in the West, where Cold War divisions defined politics and society for 40 years, the moment was not greeted as a welcome opportunity for intellectual reconciliation, for fact-checking decades of exaggerations and misperceptions. Instead, then as now, despite the overwhelming volume of new data and the exhilaration of hundreds of millions finding freedom, the battle to control the Cold War narrative raged on unabated. Reagan haters and Reagan hagiographers, Sovietophiles and anti-communists, isolationists and Atlanticists, digested this massive moment in history, then carried on as if nothing much had changed. A new flurry of books timed to coincide with the 20th anniversary of communism’s collapse reinforces the point that the Cold War will never truly be settled by the side that won.

It is bizarre to revisit pre-1989 journalism and punditry on Soviet communism. The suffering of the bit players, those pitiable citizens stranded behind the Iron Curtain, was largely ignored in favor of larger political goals. If Ronald Reagan believed the Kremlin to be the beating heart of an “evil empire,” many of his angriest critics believed, then Moscow couldn’t be all bad. Writing in The Nation in 1984, historian Stephen F. Cohen hissed that, in a perfect world, “fairness would not allow us to defame a nation that has suffered and achieved so much.”

Although uniformly anti-Soviet, some conservatives too were guilty of a Cold War–induced moral blindness, defending authoritarian governments in Africa, Latin America, Asia, and Iberia as bulwarks against communist expansion. Columnist Pat Buchanan celebrated the authoritarian leaders Augusto Pinochet of Chile and Francisco Franco of Spain as “soldier-patriots” and referred quaintly to the racist regime in South Africa as the “Boer Republic.” Others accused America’s most anti-Soviet president of impuissance. As early as 1983, neoconservative writer Norman Podhoretz proclaimed that Reagan’s policies toward the Soviet Union amounted to “appeasement by any other name.”

When the whole rotten experiment suddenly failed, eventually bringing to an end not just Moscow’s Warsaw Pact client governments but the proxy civil wars it fought in the Third World, instead of engaging in overdue self-criticism many commentators clung to shopworn shibboleths. In 1990 the academic Peter Marcuse, also writing in The Nation, bizarrely claimed that East Germany “had never sent dissidents to gulags and rarely to jail” and expressed outrage that the “goal of the German authorities is the simple integration of East into West without reflection,” instead of heeding the pleas of the intellectual class who were at work on a more humane, less Russian brand of socialism.

The weeks and months following the fall of the Wall saw relentless worries, from left and right, about the corrosive influence of Western capitalism, consumerism, and commercial television on the untainted comrades of the Ost. The “prospect of rampant consumerism,” CBS News reported in July 1990, “has East Germany’s newly elected Christian Democratic Prime Minister, Lother De Mozier, worried.” By 1993 Ukrainian National Self Defense, a right-wing populist movement that loathed Russian power, was rallying against the “Americanization of Ukraine through Coca-Cola culture.” Even the famously anti-communist Pope John Paul II warned that “the Western countries run the risk of seeing this collapse of Communism as a one-sided victory of their own economic system, and thereby failing to make necessary corrections in that system.”

When the “shock” of capitalism didn’t jump-start the moribund economies of the East within a calendar year, many in the Western news media declared the entire project dead on arrival. In 1990 ABC Evening News told viewers that East Germany was already a “victim of an overdose of capitalism.” In Southeast Poland, CBS reported, “the transition from communism to capitalism is making more people more miserable every day.” Every new election, even in firmly Western-oriented countries such as Hungary and Poland, was greeted with scare stories about backsliding into communism, lurching into neo-Nazism, or both. Even some of the early 20th-anniversary retrospectives last summer trotted out the same familiar story lines, exponential gains in freedom and prosperity notwithstanding.

With the proliferation of “Old Hopes Replaced by New Fears” stories, the long-running intellectual battle over the Cold War retreated into the halls of academia, where the newly (and, it turned out, briefly) opened Soviet archives further undermined the accepted narratives about Alger Hiss, Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, I.F. Stone, and scores of other causes célèbres of the anti-anti-communists. Western intellectuals were more interested in Francis Fuku-yama’s contention that we were witnessing “the end of history” than in who was most responsible for bringing that history to an alleged close.

Porphyrogenitus cites Mark Steyn’s thoughts on socially equitable communitarianism:

It’s better to pay more in taxes and to share the burdens as a community. It’s kinder, gentler, more compassionate, more equitable. Unfortunately, as recent European election results demonstrate, nothing makes a citizen more selfish than socially equitable communitarianism: Once a fellow’s enjoying the fruits of government health care and all the rest, he couldn’t give a hoot about the broader societal interest; he’s got his, and if it’s going to bankrupt the state a generation hence, well, as long as they can keep the checks coming till he’s dead, it’s fine by him. “Social democracy” is, in that sense, explicitly anti-social.

Somewhere along the way these countries redefined the relationship between government and citizen into something closer to pusher and junkie. And once you’ve done that, it’s very hard to persuade the junkie to cut back his habit.