Knights and Others

On Garry Kasparov and the Renew Democracy Initiative; the example of Soviet dissidents; an encounter with Tom Hanks; and more

Garry Kasparov and Anatoly Karpov at the World Chess Championship in 1985 (Wikimedia Commons)

In an article published today, I write a little about chess. Have I learned to play, at this late date? No, no. “I don’t know a rook from a hook,” as I say in the article. “But we were all aware of K vs. K—Karpov vs. Kasparov.” That was in the 1980s.

I’ll quote some more:

We knew that Anatoly Karpov was favored, by the regime, and that Garry Kasparov was disfavored. And that the Kremlin was not getting the results it wanted.

One more paragraph:

Years later, I asked Garry, “Was Karpov a jerk?” (I used a ruder word than “jerk” but have decided to Bowdlerize.) Garry got a bemused look on his face, shrugged, and said, “He was a Communist Party member and a KGB informant—does that make you a jerk?”

This piece of mine is published at The Next Move, which is the “zine” of the Renew Democracy Initiative, founded by Kasparov in 2017. I have joined RDI as a “senior resident fellow.” And I will contribute to The Next Move. (This is in addition to my work here at Onward and Upward, at The New Criterion, etc.)

RDI is a stand-up place.

I first met Kasparov in 2000, I believe, when he came to the offices of National Review, to speak to the editors—about Russia. Kasparov is a chess champion, to be sure, but he is also a democracy champion and a human-rights champion.

In later years, I knew Kasparov through the Human Rights Foundation, that blessed organization, which stages the Oslo Freedom Forum.

I have very strong views about politics and policy, as my readers well know. But my strongest view of all, in the political realm, is this: I support freedom, democracy, and human rights. I think dictatorships ought to be opposed, mightily.

Anyway, you know all this ...

May I suggest that you acquaint yourself with the Renew Democracy Initiative and The Next Move? (To subscribe to the latter, go here.)

***

From my opening article at The Next Move, I have already quoted a little. I’d like to quote some more, and expand.

When I was coming of age, I was deeply impressed by dissidents, freedom fighters—in China, Cuba, Eastern Europe, and elsewhere. Nowhere were the dissidents more impressive than in the Soviet Union.

I read Solzhenitsyn, as so many of us did. I followed the travails of Andrei Sakharov, the great physicist—who threw away every comfort, every privilege, to stand for human rights. There was another physicist-dissident, Yuri Orlov. In 1986, he was released from exile in Siberia and deported to the United States. Shortly after his arrival, I heard him speak, and shook his hand. Thrilling.

Yes. I always wanted to interview Orlov—who died in 2020 at 96. I never did.

Solzhenitsyn? We all read One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, of course, and we were at least familiar with The Gulag Archipelago. But have you read The Oak and the Calf, the author’s literary memoir? Another stunner. Truly stunning.

The Red Wheel is Solzhenitsyn’s magnum opus. He inscribed a volume of it—August 1914—to me. Glancing over from my computer just now, I can see it on a shelf. The book was delivered to me by one of Solzhenitsyn’s sons, Ignat. It is a prized possession.

I wish to mention something about Sakharov, too. His wife, Yelena Bonner, told me that Sakharov did not like to talk about human rights in general—human rights in the abstract. No, he liked to talk about individual cases: specific political prisoners.

I’m no Sakharov ... but so do I.

Preparing my piece for The Next Move, I thought of various people and events from the 1980s. Vladimir Feltsman was a pianist and a refusenik. Because of his desire to leave the Soviet Union, he was blackballed. His career was blocked.

Nobly—this is the way we Americans, and all democrats, should behave—the U.S. ambassador, Arthur Hartman, invited Feltsman to play at Spaso House, our ambassadorial residence in Moscow. But guess what? Someone vandalized the piano, breaking strings.

Who could that someone have been? What agency?

After repairs, the performance took place—and Feltsman was let out of the country the next year. His first performance in America was at the White House. A month and a half later: Carnegie Hall.

I have both listened to Feltsman (at the piano) and talked with him (by phone, in an interview about music and politics). He has done many things since leaving the Soviet Union. But I will always remember Spaso House, and the White House.

***

On his show, David Letterman used to have a segment called “Brush with Greatness.” It was jokey. Well, I had such a brush, and it was no joke. In Manhattan on Monday, I was going to a restaurant to meet some friends and colleagues for lunch (Kasparov et al.). There, on the street, was Tom Hanks. He had a ball cap jammed over his head. He seemed to be waiting for a car. I did not bother him. I’m sure he would have been terribly gracious—but I didn’t want to make him be. I let him alone.

Who in the past has been as big as Hanks, in that general field? Humphrey Bogart? Cary Grant? Clint Eastwood? In the variety of his movies, and the consistency of his excellence, and longevity, has there been a bigger actor than Tom Hanks?

And one more likable?

Oddly enough, I wrote about him earlier this month: in this column, of September 8. Hanks is a longtime supporter of the U.S. military. He has supported it in multiple ways. The West Point alumni association decided to give him its “outstanding citizen” award. The ceremony and parade were to take place this very day: September 25. But the Trump administration said no. Hanks was, in effect, canceled. Why?

Hanks is a Democrat, apparently.

I would have liked to ask him about all this—invite him on my podcast, or invite him to lunch! (Does Hanks play chess? Would he have enjoyed meeting Kasparov?) But I just could not bother him. I am a bad journalist, perhaps. (But I get things done my way, I think.)

***

A reader asked me to sign some books. He said that Shelby Foote disliked signing books. (Yes, that’s true. That was a quirk of his, I would say.) Did I dislike signing books?

Ha.

Over the years, I asked Bill Buckley to sign quite a few books, for friends of mine. (I was giving Christmas presents and the like.) Once, when he was signing, I said, “Does it ever grow old? Signing books? Do you ever tire of it?” No, he said. No way.

Hell, half the fun of writing a book is signing them later.

***

I have noticed something in New York lately. Young women are calling one another “dude.” When I mentioned this on social media, people said, “Yes, and they call one another ‘bro’ and ‘bruh’ too!” I am way behind. But I am catching up ...

Have I mentioned lately how grateful I am for my readers? Well, I am. Very.