This has been a long — and, I’m sorry to say, often depressing — year. It feels as though we’ve gone into extra innings, circling the bases a couple of hundred times, struggling to survive wars, natural disasters, terror attacks, collapsing governments, plane crashes, mass shootings, rampant inflation, more wars, and the loss of far too many good people.
Well, that’s more than enough. We’re finally rounding third base and heading for home: the start of a new year in less than two days. We’re supposed to be looking ahead with optimism and good cheer. After all, simply by reason of the fact that we’re still here, sliding into home plate . . . well, haven’t we already won the game?
Bringin’ It Home
Then why all the doom and gloom everywhere? Because it makes news . . . that’s why. These days, if it’s not bad, it’s simply not news. Even my blog has become mostly a commentary on the DOD — “Disaster of the Day” — which means that it too is depressing, by default.
So, as 2024 comes screeching to a halt, I shall — contrary to my earlier promise to myself — make a single New Year’s resolution for 2025: I resolve to dedicate at least one posting per week to something wholly and completely — maybe even nauseatingly — pleasant, cheerful, and most likely apropos of nothing.
No, I’m not giving up on venting my thoughts and feelings about all the chaos on our screwed-up planet. The world isn’t going to change, after all; and I do still need an outlet. But I will hereafter be on a dedicated search for bits and pieces of happiness as well, even if they’re sometimes meaningless or silly. And if I can’t find anything, I’ll just make something up. A limerick, perhaps.
“There once was a girl from Nantucket . . .”
Silly Enough For You?
In the meantime, happy Penultimate Day of 2024, everyone.
I should know better than to take anything Vladimir Putin says at face value. Yesterday, when it was reported that he had “apologized” to Azerbaijani President Aliyev for the crash of one of that country’s airliners in Kazakhstan, I thought it was a far better approach than Soviet leader Yuri Andropov’s response to the downing of Korean Air Flight 007 had been in 1983 — which at that time was, of course, to deny, deny, deny.
I did, however, qualify my reaction by indicating that Putin’s “apology” sounded more like a sympathy call, as he had not actually accepted responsibility for the tragedy, despite mounting evidence that the plane may have been shot down — whether knowingly or accidentally — by Russian forces stationed in the area.
Still, I should have waited a bit longer, because I had not yet seen a report of the comments made by the Kremlin’s official voice of authority, spokesman Dmitry Peskov, in a conference call with reporters. When asked about calls from Azerbaijani lawmaker Rasim Musabeyov for an apology, our old friend Peskov had this to say:
“This aviation incident is under investigation and until the conclusions are made as a result of the investigation, we do not consider ourselves entitled to give any assessments and will not do so. At the same time, we have our aviation authorities who can do this and information can only come from them. We do not consider ourselves entitled to comment on this.” [Nathan Hodge, CNN, December 27, 2024.]
“Vlad” and “Dima“
Thus, Peskov has offered nothing new. Instead, he is sticking to the old, reliable tactic of talking while saying absolutely nothing — which, in Kremlin-speak, is tantamount to a denial . . . or at the very least, a delaying tactic to allow time to come up with an alternative story.
Well, at least they haven’t resorted to the old Soviet standby: “That is an internal matter” — usually followed by someone leaving the room in a huff. Not yet, anyway.
It’s not at all a happy instance, of course: this week’s destruction of an Azerbaijan Airlines passenger plane over Kazakhstan, killing 38 of the passengers and crew.
As expected, immediately following the tragedy, there was speculation as to the possibility of the plane having been struck by a missile — and, because of the location, likely at the hands of Russian forces in the area. As evidence mounted that this might indeed have occurred, the Putin government went into defensive mode, cautioning against promoting “hypotheses” as to the cause of the crash.
But they didn’t flatly deny it. And yesterday brought a headline that both shocked and delighted me:
“Putin Apologizes, Tells Azerbaijan Russian Air Defenses Were Activated When Jet Crashed” [RFE/RL’s Russian Service, December 28, 2024]
The report said that “Russian President Vladimir Putin has apologized over the crash of an Azerbaijan Airlines passenger plane this week, the Kremlin said, amid growing evidence that the jet was hit by a Russian air-defense missile in the Chechnya region before it went down in Kazakhstan, killing 38 of the 67 people on board. In a phone call with Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev, Putin said Russian air defenses were repelling an alleged Ukrainian drone attack on Chechnya’s capital, Grozny, when the plane was trying to land at the airport there, a Kremlin statement said.” [Id.]
It went on to state that Putin had “conveyed his apologies in connection with the fact that the tragic incident occurred in Russian airspace” — while still not acknowledging that it was indeed a Russian missile strike that had caused the crash. [Id.]
Flight Path of Azerbaijan Airlines Plane
Well, all right . . . that’s almost an apology. It actually sounds, from the reports available, more like an expression of sympathy. But it’s a huge step in the right direction as compared to the aftermath of another crash, some 41 years ago, that was quite personal to me . . .
*. *. *
1983: Korean Airlines flight shot down by Soviet Union.
I was in the office when the call came from the Dean of Columbia University Law School, telling me that John Oldham had been on that Korean Air Flight 007 to Seoul, en route to China for his summer of study and teaching.
All I could say was, “No! Not the one the Soviets shot down!”
Tragically, yes.
John was an amazing young man — smart, hard-working, decent, with a bright future. Just having graduated from law school, he was scheduled to join our firm; but first he had been offered an internship in Beijing for a year of study, with a side job of teaching English. He had been scheduled to leave a day earlier, but had changed his reservations in order to accommodate a friend who needed help with something. That was John.
And now he was gone.
It fell to me to tell everyone — but first of all, Walter. That was my immediate boss, Walter Surrey — a prominent international attorney and senior partner of a firm with clients doing business throughout the world, including China and the Soviet Union. But he was at a dental appointment that morning, so I had to tell him by phone, before he might hear it somewhere else.
When I called him at the dentist’s office and broke the news, he said nothing for a moment. Then: “Call Tregub. I want him in my office at noon. No excuses.” And he hung up.
Valeriy Tregub was our commercial contact in the Soviet Embassy. When I reached him by phone, there were none of the usual niceties. I told him bluntly, “One of our people was on that plane. Walter wants to see you here at noon.” And he didn’t argue.
When Tregub arrived, he looked as though he’d already been through hell; and his meeting with Walter didn’t help. I learned later from Walter that he had told Tregub what he thought his government should do: accept responsibility for a terrible, accidental tragedy, and offer restitution. But of course, that never happened. Instead, the Soviet government under Yuri Andropov closed ranks, denied involvement in the incident, and slammed shut the Iron Curtain.
Yuri Andropov
And to this day, there has been no justice for the 269 passengers and crew members on that flight . . . John Oldham included. He would have been around 65 now, perhaps a father and grandfather, and probably looking forward to retirement from a highly successful career. But it never happened.
And 41 years later, it still hurts — for me, and for the families and friends of the other 268 people aboard that flight. Nothing could have brought those victims back to life; but an apology — or even a simple acknowledgment of responsibility — would have gone a long way toward mitigating the anger.
*. *. *
So perhaps now, in a world some four decades older and (hopefully) wiser, Vladimir Putin will take yet another step toward doing the right thing, admit that his people made a tragic mistake, and offer restitution — not simply to improve his image, but because it is the right thing to do.
What a wonderful gift it would be for the New Year, if we were able to bring home the remaining political prisoners from Vladimir Putin’s penal colonies: those people who never should have been there in the first place, who have done nothing more heinous than speak the truth about the Putin regime or about the war in Ukraine in particular, but who missed out on the prisoner swap in August of this year.
It saddens me beyond words to have to end this year, and face the beginning of yet another year, by once more listing their names in my small effort to ensure they are not forgotten. But here they are again:
David Barnes Gordon Black Marc Fogle Robert Gilman Stephen James Hubbard Ksenia Karelina Andrey Kuznechyk (in Belarus) Michael Travis Leake Ihar Losik (in Belarus) Daniel Martindale Farid Mehralizada (in Azerbaijan) Robert Shonov Eugene Spector Laurent Vinatier Robert Romanov Woodland Vladislav Yesypenko (in Crimea)
I wish each and every one of them — and all those whose names are not known to me — continued courage, hope, and a one-way ticket home in the year to come.
The old folks would reclaim the world, and send the last two generations back to school.
Because without the calculators, they couldn’t do basic arithmetic, let alone this thing called “Common Core” math.
Without a GPS, they couldn’t find their way to the nearest emergency room or sushi restaurant.
And without Google, they’d have to learn to use a card index in a building called “a Library” — if they could even find their way to the Library without a GPS.
They’d have to learn to speak to people face-to-face, because there would be no email or texting. They’d also have to learn to use a telephone attached to a wall in a building or a phone booth. But first they’d have to look up the number in a big, heavy phone book.
And they’d have to go into a bunch of different stores to shop, because there would be no Amazon. (Sorry, Jeff Bezos.)
They’d have to start wearing a watch to know what time it is . . . which, of course, would necessitate learning to read an analog clock.
Typing would be on an actual typewriter, using all eight fingers, with the right thumb reserved for the space bar. By the way, let me introduce you to carbon paper, typewriter erasers, and something called White-Out, which smells odd but won’t really get you high.
And while we’re designing the curriculum for this re-education program, let’s teach the young folks how to write in cursive, just for the fun of it.
Travel would be more interesting, too. Flying would require calls to various airlines for flight times and fares, and a visit to the airline office to pick up your paper tickets. For a road trip, you might want to call the AAA (American Automobile Association) for a TripTik, to map out your routes and make your hotel reservations.
Want to watch a movie? We’re not going back to the Stone Age, so you could still do this at home . . . but only at the scheduled time on one of the dozen or so TV channels. Or you could buy a VCR and a whole library of VHS tapes of your favorite flicks.
Because there wouldn’t be anything “on demand.” Life would be slower — but would that really be such a bad thing?
Sure, we’d miss all of our tech “stuff” if it were taken away from us now. But for those of us who grew up without it, that slower life was somehow easier, and quieter, and more friendly. And sometimes I miss it. It might be nice to reconnect to the human side of life.
But on the other hand, you wouldn’t have been reading my blog back in those low-tech days, because the concept of a “blog” didn’t exist yet. So maybe . . . just maybe . . . our tech stuff isn’t all bad.
The jury is still out on AI, though. That shit really scares me.
Christmas is a time for families and friends, and often total strangers, to come together in harmony and peace. It’s a time for messages of love and good wishes for the coming year.
And this year, it was a time for America to receive the biggest, bestest gift imaginable for the coming year: three additions to the family, whose names are:
Canada, Panama Canal, and Greenland
Yes, those would be strange names for a trio of newborns . . . if we were talking about people. (Though not any stranger than some of Elon Musk’s offspring, but let’s not belabor that subject.)
We are, however, talking about geographical entities. And the incoming American Alienator-In-Chief has decided that the United States needs all three in order to secure our . . . well, I’m not sure exactly what we’re supposed to be securing. But he says we need them, so it must be true.
Accordingly, Canadian Prime Minister Trudeau will hereinafter be known as Governor Trudeau of the State of Canada; the Chinese (who may or may not be in Panama at all) will no longer have control (which they may or may not actually have at all) of the Canal; and the people of Greenland will have to forget their Greenlandic and Danish languages and begin working on their English.
And someone will be busily trying to figure out how to arrange 53 stars on a flag. Good luck with that . . . 53 isn’t divisible by anything.
Wait! I’ve got it! Three rows of 11 and two rows of 10 . . . a total of 53 really, really small stars.
It’s been just under a year since the Feenstra family — Arend, Anneesa, and eight of their nine children — left Canada to settle on their new farm in Russia. And what a year it has been!
Receiving the “Year of the Family” Award
After a rocky start, they did somehow manage to overcome a series of bureaucratic obstacles and are now settling into their forever home near Nizhny Novgorod. Without any knowledge of Russian laws and regulations, or even a smattering of the Russian language, they have acquired a nice piece of farmland on which they themselves have built a large house (still a work in progress, but habitable) and outbuildings; found the resources for installation of plumbing and electrical work; and set themselves up with all the equipment they could ever hope for, including farm machinery, a family-size van, and laptop computers for the children’s home schooling.
They also — in a land where all social media are being blocked — enjoy Facebook and other accounts, as well as an almost daily YouTube broadcast on which Arend regularly extols the advantages of life in Russia as opposed to the difficulties they left behind in Canada.
And further, he has established himself as an outstanding proselytizer for the Russian government — encouraging conservative families such as his to join them in their adopted Nirvana and leave behind the evils of the liberal, “woke” way of life in the West.
Which, of course, explains all of the perks. The Feenstras have been required to sell their souls in order to save their souls.
*. *. *
But they’re supposed to believe it’s all been worth it, because now they have received an award (and a bouquet of flowers) from their new President, handed to them personally by the Governor of Nizhny Novgorod at the conclusion of Vladimir Putin’s “Year of the Family.”
It was the culmination of a year of Putin’s propagation-pushing propaganda — a massive drive to stop the population decline of the past several years. I suppose when you’ve lost a few hundred thousand young men in your illegal war against Ukraine, you do become somewhat desperate to find means of replacing them. So you begin a campaign to “encourage” young couples to begin having more and more children, and you try to glamorize the joys of life in a large family.
And then you have a contest, and you offer rewards and a moment of glory to the outstanding families of the year across the country. In the Nizhny Novgorod region, the families were brought together in a large, grandly-decorated hall where they were treated to a buffet luncheon; a ballet performance created specially to depict the glory of love, marriage and multiple children; and, finally, a moment onstage with the Governor to have your picture taken as you receive an expression of gratitude from your country.
In Nizhny Novgorod, there were numerous families with children ranging in number from 2 to 14. But the Feenstras appeared to be the only non-Russians, and they were clearly lost as to what was going on. The ceremonies were conducted in Russian, and were unintelligible to them for the most part. The baby fell asleep on Anneesa’s shoulder. They were not able — because of the language difficulty — to mingle with the other families during the luncheon or following the ceremony. But they did have their moment of glory.
From the YouTube video, it appeared that they were the last family to be called forward, and the Governor said a few extra words to Arend, praising him for bringing his family to Russia and encouraging him, in turn, to encourage others to follow. And they received an enthusiastic round of applause as they left the stage.
Well done, Feenstras.
As they left the building for the drive back to the farm, Arend had a few words to say to the cameraman who always seems to be with them. He said it was a “very cool experience, like nothing I would ever have experienced in Canada,” and that he and his family were “absolutely honored to be included, [as] they didn’t have to do that.”
*. *. *
Meanwhile, back in Moscow, Vladimir Putin has extended his greetings to the participants, organizers and guests at a ceremony labeled “Year of the Family: Continuing on the path to the future — with love along the way.” His message included one final bit of hype to cap off his year-long campaign:
“Today, the National Centre RUSSIA welcomes the forum’s participants, including families with multiple children, entire labour dynasties, winners of the national contests Family of the Year and Our Family, and families of veterans from the special military operation* across various regions of the country. These are individuals who, through their life experiences, profoundly appreciate the immense, lasting value of home, as well as the foundations and traditions passed down through generations. It is within the family circle that a child’s personality and worldview are significantly shaped, and where enduring moral values such as care for others, devotion to one’s children and parents, love for the Fatherland, and a sense of connection to its destiny are instilled.
[* Known to the rest of the world as the war in Ukraine.]
“I would like to highlight that enhancing the demographic situation, supporting birth rates and multi-child parenting, and improving the welfare of Russian families constitute our primary national objectives. Over the past year, considerable efforts have been made to fortify the family’s social standing and high status. This vital and necessary work to preserve and nurture family foundations, as well as the culture of. motherhood and fatherhood, must continue, with particular attention given to families with many children.
“After all, a large, harmonious family serves as a formidable pillar for the country, society, and the individual.
“I wish you success, health, and all the best. And, of course, I would like to take this opportunity to extend my New Year wishes to you all!”
[From “Greetings to participants of the Year of the Family annual review ceremony,” en.kremlin.ru.]
*. *. *
Kudos to the person(s) who wrote that speech for him. I’m reasonably certain their words will be of great comfort to the Feenstra children throughout all the years of their lives in the land their parents chose for them.
What was the world like before the advent of the internet, hand-held devices that are smarter than we are, and that miracle of connectedness: social media? I can hardly remember.
But in some parts of the world, all of that accessibility to information and communication has proven a hindrance to the sort of control a government might need to exercise over its citizens. Take Russia, for example.
Yes, that’s the place. That’s Red Square above, with St. Basil’s Cathedral on the left, and one side of the massive Kremlin Wall on the right. Beautiful, isn’t it? And oh, so misleading.
Because behind those impenetrable walls sits a man who for the past quarter-century has gradually tightened the reins on the Russian people until life for most has again begun to feel like a replay of the old Soviet days: more restrictive laws, people being thrown into prison simply for saying the wrong thing, friends and relatives turning against each other. And now, a giant roadblock on the information highway.
Unless you know the right people, of course.
Tuesday’s news brought word of the “de facto” blocking of YouTube traffic in Russia, down to a mere 20 percent of its “normal” levels, according to a Telegram post by Mikhail Klimarev, director of the non-profit Society for the Protection of the Internet. That post also stated that Russian authorities had begun deliberately slowing down the service in July of this year. [Current Time, December 23, 2024, as reported by RFE/RL, December 24, 2024.]
And in the city of Surgut, a resident who spoke on condition of anonymity said that YouTube has been “inaccessible for some time. I first noticed YouTube becoming frustratingly slow in the summer, now it is simply impossible to open.” [RFE/RL, December 24, 2024.]
Russian authorities, of course, have said the problems were caused by Google’s failure to upgrade its equipment. Anonymous sources in the Russian government have said otherwise, as have YouTube’s own representatives. [Id.]
Vladimir Putin reinforced Moscow’s claims last week, and further addressed the subject at his annual call-in news conference on December 19th by demanding that YouTube and its parent company, Google, obey Russia’s laws and not use the internet as a tool to “achieve [the U.S.] government’s political goals.” [Id.]
But how to explain the fact that other social media platforms, such as Facebook and X, are also blocked in Russia? I suppose those were due to the providers’ equipment malfunctions as well.
*. *. *
And even more puzzling is the question of how, just last month, my blog — which is posted on Facebook — was read by two individuals from Russia. That was only the third time in two years that that has happened. I’ve had viewers from all over the world — various countries throughout the Americas, Europe, Asia, Africa, the South Pacific — though not from the penguins in Antarctica. And only three times from Russia, with just the one time since the media “blackout.”
The feedback I receive on my blog lists only the country of the viewer, and not the specific location. That’s okay . . . I don’t want to invade anyone’s privacy. I’d just like to know who’s been reading me in Russia . . . and how they’ve managed it.
Unfortunately, I know I can’t expect an answer. I just thought I’d ask.
Traditionally, royalty has always married royalty; and this has been especially true in the royal houses of Europe. There’s nothing strange about that — it’s a class thing.
But there are problems that, over the centuries, are inevitably going to arise when an heir to one throne has to wonder whether his feelings for, say, the daughter of another country’s monarch might actually be . . . well . . . almost incestuous.
Case in point (though happily not a case of impropriety):
Grand Duke Henri of Luxembourg
In yesterday’s news, it was announced that Grand Duke Henri of Luxembourg, age 69, following a reign of 24 years, has renounced the throne of his country in favor of his son, Prince Guillaume, age 43. There was no scandal; Henri is not known to be ill. He is merely following in the footsteps of his late father, Grand Duke Jean, who passed the torch — or scepter — to him on Christmas Eve of 1999.
In his speech to the people of Luxembourg this week, Henri said:
“When I look back today, after almost 25 years, I do so with deep gratitude and humility. It has been a period during which Luxembourg has made much progress, and I am pleased to have been able to be part of that journey with you.” [Chris Benson, UPI, December 25, 2024.]
Tradition.
And as I looked at the article, and at the accompanying picture of the retiring monarch, my eye saw — not a Grand Duke of Luxembourg — but a long-deceased King of England: George VI, father of the late Queen Elizabeth II.
“Now, that’s just plain spooky,” I thought.
So I immediately went into research mode and Googled old King George, and this is what came up — just as I had recalled:
King George VI of Great Britain
Brothers by another mother? Not quite. But it turns out that they are (or were, since George is no longer with us) indeed related. In fact, Henri and Elizabeth were third cousins twice removed, being related because they “share a descendant from Christian IX of Denmark.”
Now, Christian IX was married to the much better-known British Queen Victoria. And their descendants today rule over the lands of Belgium, Denmark, Luxembourg, Norway, Spain, Sweden, and the United Kingdom.
But let us not forget another of Christian and Victoria’s grandchildren, whose offspring would no doubt also still be ruling if their monarchy hadn’t been overthrown by that notorious revolutionary, Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov — better known as Vladimir Lenin — in 1917. And that grandson was the last Tsar of Russia, Nicholas II:
Nicholas II, Tsar of All the Russias
In fact, here are “Nicky” and his cousin, England’s George V, together during happier times:
Tsar Nicholas II and King George V (or vice-versa?)
Not incidentally, it was George V’s refusal to give political refuge to the Tsar and his family at the time of the Russian Revolution that led to the ultimate slaughter of Nicholas, the Tsarina Aleksandra, their five children, and members of their household staff by Lenin’s Bolshevik revolutionaries.
I guess no one ever told George that blood is thicker than water.
*. *. *
And now take a look at the second in line to the British throne today: young George, the eldest child of William and Catherine:
Genetically speaking, at least, the past is indeed prologue.
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