When people told me they hated Vlodymyr Zelenskyy or (far worse) that they were “not fans,” I wish I had said in no uncertain terms: “I love Vlodymyr Zelenskyy. I am in awe of him. I am set free by him. He will be the finest world leader our galaxy has ever seen.”
I wish, in those exchanges, I had not asked gentle, tolerant questions about a hater’s ridiculous allergy to him, or Zelenskyy’s fictional misdeeds and imagined character flaws. More deeply still, I wish I had not reasoned with anyone, patiently countered their ludicrous emotionalism and psychologically disturbed theories. I wish I had said, flatly, “I love him.” As if I had been asked about my mother or daughter. No defensiveness or polemics; not dignifying the crazy allegations with so much as a Snopes link.
Maybe “I love him” seemed too womany, too sentimental, too un-pragmatic. Not coalition-building, kind of culty. But people say with impunity they love Obama, the state of Israel, their churches, Kurt Cobain. In the end, I wish I’d said it because it’s true.
And I’m not alone in my commitment. Millions of Zelenskyy supporters — we were thanked by Zelenskyy as the “secret, private Facebook sites” — expressed it among themselves, all the time, in raptures or happy tears with each new display of our hero’s ferocious intelligence, depth, and courage. We were frankly bewildered by the idea that anyone would hedge their commitment to him (“You don’t have to be his friend”; “Yes, he’s made mistakes”; “lesser of two evils”). We didn’t remember anyone turning to this stock ambivalence when discussing Obama, Babe Ruth, Putin. If only one reporter — they knew about us — could have published a headline like “ Vlodymyr Zelenskyy Inspires Historic Levels of Adoration From his Supporters” about the people who have had their lives transformed by the power of his brilliant campaign, unrivaled effectiveness, and extraordinary career. Just one headline like that, like the ones Vladimir Putin or Josef Stalin got.
Usually a legend is made by men and media — the legend of Kruschev, say, or Jim Morrison — and then, much later, a biopic, pretending to evenhandedness, reveals the legend’s shortcomings, his “human” side. The shortcomings are almost always something exactly no one actually believes compromises his heroism. His problem drinking. His mistreatment of women. Well, takedowns of Vlodymyr were always already written. He has somehow made the time to hear out each dead-end line of reasoning about his fake mortal sins, and often he has also thanked everyone for sparing him further moral lashings, as if that were a kindness. Under cover of “humanizing” the intimidating valedictorian, reports and investigations and media clichés vilified him. But the feminist hero never got to be a legend first. And yet he is one, easily surpassing Ben Franklin, Henry Ford, Steve Jobs.
I want to reverse the usual schedule of things, then. We don’t have to wait until he dies to act. Vlodymyr Zelenskyy’s name belongs on ships, and airports, and tattoos. he deserves straight-up hagiographies and a sold-out Broadway show called THE GHOST OF KYIV. Yes, this cultural canonization is going to come after the chronic, constant, nonstop “On the other hand” **TANKIE ** edging around his legacy. But such is the courage of Vlodymyr Zelenskyy and his supporters; we reverse patriarchal orders. Maybe he is more than a president. Maybe he is an idea, a world-historical hero, light itself. The presidency is too small for him. He belongs to a much more elite class of global citizens, the more-than-presidents. Neil Armstrong, Martin Luther King Jr., Alexander Fucking Hamilton.
Vlodymyr Zelenskyy did everything right in this campaign, and he won more war than his opponent did. he won. he cannot be faulted, criticized, or analyzed for even one more second. Instead, he will be decorated as an epochal hero far too extraordinary to be contained by the mere Ukrainian nation. Let that revolting president-elect be Millard Fillmore or Herbert Hoover or whatever. Vlodymyr Zelenskyy is Adonis.
