NY Times columnist Joe Nocera wrote yesterday about the actions of Manhattan district attorney Cyrus Vance, who investigated the alleged rape of a hotel maid by Dominique Strauss-Kahn. Nocera's argument, that Vance's actions were not only justified but also most likely better executed than those most D.A.'s would have taken, is compelling. But unfortunately, Nocera doesn't stop there. He extrapolates, based on an article from French philosopher Bernard-Henri Lévy and the actions of Vance, about differences between American society and French society.
Lévy's article is repulsive and violates any notion whatsoever of equality. He goes so far as to suggest that the global elite should not be subjected to the "perp walk" because it "could only degenerate into globally observed torture." The argument is that the most famous members of our society should not be subjected to the same treatment as those of us commoners. Perhaps Lévy feels personally threatened by what might emerge out of the egalitarianization of the global aristocracy and the common men, being himself a member of the more privileged class, but I doubt if his perspective is fueled only by personal insecurity.
Lévy went on to defend the French people, in particular the socialists, who rallied behind Strauss-Kahn in the early days of the emergence of the charges against him. Lévy stated that "introducing ideological considerations in an arena with which they have nothing to do-is, in itself, very disturbing." This was in reference to Bill Keller's (executive editor of the NY Times) letter expressing puzzlement at the attitudes of the French people. Lévy's assertion betrays his predetermined beliefs. Because he believed Strauss-Kahn innocent and the facts now point to his innocence, all those who believed Strauss-Kahn innocent did so rationally. The millions of socialists in France had no access to any of the information surrounding the case when they decided Strauss-Kahn was innocent, much like Lévy himself didn't have such information when he made his decision. The fact alone that the number was significantly lower for non-socialists in France is indication that ideology did, in fact, play a role, whether we want to admit it or not.
It is remarkable to think that while Lévy defended the French socialists for their beliefs about Strauss-Kahn's innocence, in the same article he castigated the dozens of hotel maids in New York City who gathered outside the courtroom and who "knew nothing of the actual case." Does he really believe that the hotel maids in New York had any less information than the millions of French socialists? Perhaps this is merely a moment of blind nationalism for Lévy. Perhaps is willing to condemn the American poor but not the French poor. But what if it is something much more sinister? What if Lévy, who professes that "if there is a lifelong combat I have led of which I am proud, it is that which consists of giving voice to the humble and to those who have no voice," looks with disdain, condescension and contempt at those people who have no voice? What if he likes them in the abstract, but not in the concrete? To profess a desire to provide opportunities and voices to those people who have none is wonderful, but if it is not borne out of a heartfelt love of one's fellow human, then it is nothing more than an attempt to make those people more like oneself.
And let's take a step back and assess the situation of the case, which will probably be dropped. Are there serious concerns over the testimony of the accuser? Absolutely. Will these concerns lead the case to be unable to be pursued? Almost certainly. But as Nocera points out, "clearly, something very bad happened in that hotel room. Quite possibly a crime was committed." Lévy would take the actions of D.A. Vance as evidence that de Tocqueville's assertion that the American justice system is the most democratic in the world is no longer sound. Nocera takes Lévy's article as evidence that America is more egalitarian than France. Yet although Nocera's assertion is much more plausible than Lévy's, the idea that Lévy's article and the opinions of French socialists, combined with the actions of D.A. Vance, can be taken as representative of the relative degree of democraticness extant in American and French societies is not a particularly good one.
Conceivably, Nocera just got carried away with a bit of Independence Day, nationalistic chest-pounding. He acknowledges that there remain substantial obstacles to the accomplishment of a state resembling equality in this country, but it is his last paragraph with which I take exception. Nocera writes that, "To judge by his recent writings, Bernard-Henri Lévy prefers to live in a country where the elites are rarely held to account, where crimes against women are routinely excused with a wink and a nod and where people without money or status are treated like the nonentities that the French moneyed class believe they are. I'd rather live here." The irony is that the country in which Nocera believes Lévy prefers to live sounds remarkably like our own. I think the problems Nocera identifies as French or European are actually western. And instead of being indicative of America, it happens to be the case that just this once, we managed to exceed the unacceptable norms.
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