The Resistible Rise of Barack Obama

This week I went to see 'The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui' by Bertolt Brecht. Led by a curiosity to see a Brecht play performed well, I left feeling puzzled and intrigued by the strange resonances of history and its episodes of hope and despair. (At this point and before I go any further I'd like to make the following disclaimer: I am not a dubious racist much as the next section comparing the rise of Hitler to that of Obama may suggest. I just have a very questionable sense of grasp of political correctness and an inability to be concise. Hence the title of this blog).

The play charts the rise of Hitler through the analogous tale of Arturo Ui, a gangster in 1930s Chicago who, with the help of a few ruthless capitalists and good for nothing thugs, comes to power over the vegetable traders of the 'Cauliflower Trust'. Think The Sopranos with bad songs, searing historical commentary and German jokes. The play charts Ui's rise not as inexorable but rather as a slow and steady advance, with numerous critical junctures, where many different actors played a part in creating a monster and clearing his path to power. He emphasizes that what has now acquired the appearance of inevitability was always resistible and that behind the rise of Hitler lay the hand of happenstance more than that of history.

Watching the play on the week that Obama took the White House, I was struck by a number of contrasts and parallels (this is the moment when you are requested to suspend disbelief at the words coming out of my mouth and resist calling the pc police until you've at least reached the end of the fourth paragraph). At somewhat comparable moments in history - chronic, systemic crises in countries beset by a mood of unease and self doubt - two politicians - both highly gifted orators able to stir huge crowds to overwhelming levels of emotion - came to power by means of a confluence of historical events, careful campaigns and a popular vote. There was nothing predestined about either and yet there was something horrifically, in one case, and thrillingly, in the other, historic about both. Crisis and war opened the door for changes that were previously impossible, of both the best and the worst kind.

But of course, if the rise of Hitler was the triumph of evil then that of Obama is, or at least we all so fervently hope, the triumph of the good. His election seems to embody what is best in human nature, what is possible in human history, to nay say the cynics, reward optimism, and most of all, restore hope. I've found myself many times this week in tears watching students at Howard College scream with incredulous joy or reading about the old African American man who photocopied the front pages of newspapers and laminated them to hang on his walls. And though this moment has been redolent with all that seems best about humanity it is also quintessentially American. Much as European applaud from the sidelines like parents who's delinquent child has finally managed to do something right, we are a long way from seeing a prime minister, taoiseach, president or chancellor with such visceral, aspirational vision, let alone one who is black.

And yet, much as I have revelled in the moment, felt vindicated in my faith in the possibility of change, the play brought a reality check. Brecht showed how Hitler changed reality to match the picture of the world that he conjured up in his speeches. He promised Germans a strong hand, law and order, protection and when they asked 'from what?' the SS ran riot and the Reichstag was burned down. He created the chaos out of which to forge the simulacrum of order. But destruction is always easier than construction, especially in a world where everything has been deconstructed to within an inch of Derrida's life. For Obama, creating the reality to match the picture of the world he paints in his speeches will be the greatest of challenges, as commentators have been so quick to point out.

The conclusion from this reality check though, is not then to relinquish hope or dismiss the importance of this moment. That would be too easy. It is rather to hold onto the hope all the more fiercely, defend it against cynicism as Obama inevitably fails to deliver all he has promised. For the final message of Brecht's play is that the death of hope precedes the triumph of evil and despair. That things can always change for both better and for worse and that this truth is an eternal source of terror and consolation. In the face of volatility two responses are possible - fear and hope. To ensure that the worst in humanity is resisted and to have any chance of making our reality match our rhetoric we must hold onto what Obama so fully embodies - unyielding hope.