Now with the DNC in its second day and the RNC behind us, I
realize I have been struggling not to use the word “fascism” to describe the
structure of the Trump Train. Mainly, I
think, because I thought Donald Trump was too shallow to deserve the title of Republican
nominee. But then I saw true Republicans
bowing to him, largely, I think, because of his huge audience of worshippers,
fire-brand nationalists who to me seem hell-bent on dropping out of the world
after building defenses against it.
This morning (July 26, 2016) I ran across the word “fascism”
in an unlikely place: a review in the LA
Times by its formidable music critic, Mark Swed, who was clearly impressed by
last Sunday’s performance at the Hollywood Bowl of Puccini’s Tosca directed by our man, Gustavo
Dudamel. The Master Chorale, Children’s
Chorus, full-throated soloists, and of course the LA Phil received glowing
praise. Even the sound system was just
right. It must have been spectacular and
I wish I had been there.
But then, Swed’s phrase “the attraction of fascism” jumped
out at me like a bullet shot out of the middle of the article. Just on the face of it the phrase makes
sense. Mob rule is attractive! People who feel fear and hatred of anything
they can’t understand, the easy thing to do is circle the wagons. They kill the
Indians but cannot see the nuclear holocaust up ahead. Their battle cries
become ecstatic in a swell of human emotion that gives them comfort and a sense
of purpose. Ironically, Swed’s use of
the phrase elevates to the highest level both Puccini’s opera and Dudamel’s
masterful musicians, becoming in Swed’s mind somehow “a telling indictment of
the attraction of fascism.”
Does that mean we use the crowd’s clamor against them? I don’t know. Maybe our situation calls to
mind Napoleon and his troops, Scarpia and the other villains, Mussolini,
Hitler, ad infinitum. (Please add your
favorite.) They are the ones who cause
all the trouble until true love finally has the last word, even if it means
stabbing evil and jumping off a wall.
Sorry for the melodrama, folks.
But life is an opera. And
Shakespeare had it right: “Man is a
giddy thing & much ado about nothing.”
