Che Guevara should be scorned
- not worn
Ryan Clancy, USA Today
Via Yahoo!
News, Oct 31, 2005.
Che Guevara is everywhere these days. Not
literally. He is, after all, dead. But 38
years after meeting his demise in the Bolivian
jungle, the communist revolutionary has
re-emerged as a pop culture icon. In dorm
rooms, on the runways of Paris and on merchandising
kitsch, the legendary Alberto Korda image
of a beret-clad Guevara is the epitome of
cool. Don't be surprised if during tonight's
trick-or-treating, Che shows up among the
goblins. He's that ubiquitous.
Hollywood has taken notice, too. Last year's
indie hit The Motorcycle Diaries, which
traced Che's youthful wanderlust trip across
South America, is soon to be followed by
a major studio production featuring Benicio
Del Toro.
Che's rock star status will probably be
fleeting. Just ask Motley Crüe. But
long after Jay-Z stops rapping, "I'm
like Che Guevara with bling on," Che
will retain the exalted position he has
held since the Vietnam War as a symbol of
peace and justice. And that is a problem.
Che demanded worldwide revolution, even
if it meant a stream of death and misery.
He said the utopia that could be built on
the ashes of the old world would make the
suffering worthwhile. That's why he advocated
a nuclear exchange during the Cuban missile
crisis.
In fact, if you read through Che's speeches,
with his constant refrain of glorious martyrdom,
they're remarkably similar to another well-known
"revolutionary" - the tall, bearded
one holed up somewhere on the Afghanistan-Pakistan
border.
Che hated the United States and the global
free market system that sustained it. Just
ask him. "Let us sum up our hopes for
victory: total destruction of imperialism
by eliminating its firmest bulwark, the
oppression exercised by the United States
of America."
If Che's world vision had prevailed, it's
safe to say that Apple founder Steve Jobs
would have never brought us the iPod. After
all, it's tough to innovate when you're
stuck behind a donkey farming turnips for
the proletariat.
For those who sell Che merchandise, this
history is beside the point. Yakov Grinberg,
a 20-year-old clerk at Freaks, a shop in
Manhattan's trendy East Village, freely
concedes: "Most of these people obviously
have no idea what they're wearing."
Che isn't the only erstwhile commie scoring
cool points either. Chairman Mao and the
Soviet hammer-and-sickle are showing up
on hipster gear as well. Who knew that bread
lines were the new black?
Against this backdrop of ignorance, it's
not surprising that Che, as a populist symbol
of uncompromising defiance who stood up
for the poor and oppressed, transcends the
real Che - the one who said judicial review
for executions was an "archaic bourgeoisie
detail."
What then are we to make of Che Guevara?
Che apologists insist he fought "for
the people." But when it came to the
basics of helping "the people,"
such as not killing them, he was less than
stellar.
Most historians agree upon one fact, however,
that can shape our understanding of Che.
He was a loser. Big time. I'm talking McGovern
in '72, Saddam in '91 and the Chicago Cubs
every year since '08.
Che fomented unrest in Argentina, Bolivia,
the Dominican Republic, Nicaragua, Haiti,
Panama and the African Congo, and every
expedition was an abject failure. His single
enduring political achievement, Cuba, is
not even threatening enough to make the
Axis of Evil.
So, instead of Che being held up as a beacon
of peace and justice, let us hereafter revel
in his futility. He'll be an exemplar of
the idea that hard work does not always
pay off. In fact, I already have a new shirt
in mind. Take the same iconic picture of
Che and just add the heading, "I tried
to conquer the evil Yankee imperialists
and all I got was this stupid T-shirt."
Ryan Clancy is a freelance writer living
in New York City.
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