If you’ve read my work for a while, you probably know that knee-jerk anti-Americanism amuses me greatly as someone who’s lived in many different places and is American by choice. It’s easy to criticize American power, not so easy to imagine what would happen if China were to suddenly become the dominant world player (hint: nothing good).
But then again, I’ve always been the sort of boring post-Soviet person who likes to remind people that a quest for perfect utopias, instead of durable-if-imperfect systems of governance that are allowed to evolve gradually, ends up in millions killed and/or starved.
Having said all that, it’s been wild for me to see people online create ridiculous, exaggerated myths about the United States as of late. Whether it’s some people again arguing that Osama Bin Laden was right to attack the United States (look, we went through that when it first happened, it was sociopathic then and it’s sociopathic now) to viral tweets about how terrible it is to live in the “imperial core” that is the States, I’ve been oscillating between laughter and downright concern for people’s sanity.
Meanwhile, life in the imperial core is rich and interesting. That some of our most privileged citizens not only fail to understand that is not surprising — none of them were hospitalized for dysentery as I was as a small child back in the good old Soviet Union, it’s not like they have much comparison — but it’s annoying, and it demonstrates contempt for their fellow Americans on an industrial scale.
The America I know is unique and peculiar, it’s bluegrass and jazz, folk tales and road trips, James Baldwin and Louise Erdrich, grief and love. It’s millions of people who are constantly doing something new, even when they’re not always aware of it, because daily life is a grind, but a grind that has a hypnotizing rhythm nonetheless.
One of the craziest myths about America that I’ve read as of late did not originate with the proverbial TikTok teens everyone loves to complain about, but a Russian mom group. I lurk in a number of these groups — they’re excellent sources of information about the state of Russian troops currently attacking my native motherland — and I’ve definitely seen some shit in there since Russia’s full-scale invasion began in 2022, but this past week has truly produced some gems.
Now that Thanksgiving is upon us, the Russian moms are discussing what the holiday means for the proverbial American pigdogs. One of them claimed that Black Friday is thus called because it’s a signal for whites to “not leave their house.” She then regurgitated the crazy Russian propaganda narrative of how more and more American whites want to, and need to, move to Russia. Oh yes, the gorgeous vistas of Saransk and Syzran beckon to us all, at least according to her.
The ugly spectacle of racism in America is always going to get twisted by Russia (and China) toward their own ends, but what struck me was the utter confidence with which people who’ve never set foot in this country regurgitate these myths.
That, in a way, is just another testament to America’s strength. We’re such a big, and rich, and loud country that we create a kind of rhetorical static, a constant buzz, a disturbance in the Force. People can’t help but mythologize us, even if they often do so stupidly.
This power isn’t always a force of good. And it can drive even ordinary bystanders to despair, even to twisted nihilism. But it’s my hope that fellow Americans are able to see the diamonds here, embedded in the rough of days, and are able to be thankful for them.
Loving your country, in a clear-eyed and compassionate way, is an act of courage. If James Baldwin understood this, maybe the rest of us can too.
Image: adanvdo