Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s counsel for negotiating the burden of old age is simply to have an honourable pact with solitude. At a personal level, the forced incarceration brought on by the pandemic coupled with the inexorable isolation of the geriatric, and to top it all, the sense of desolate hopelessness engendered by the recent election results that are a resounding endorsement of a majoritarian tyranny have combined to provide the perfectly arid setting to act on Marquez’s prescription.  

Clearly, solitude is another mother of invention as manifest in the number of unexacting cognitive games that I have devised to fill the void. The other evening was spent trying to figure out the most evocative one-liner in the English language that would define the worthiest attribute that every human being should aspire for. 

With the caveat that the range and volume of quotations accessed are limited by my own fragmentary knowledge, my personal preference is a quote from that consummate master of minimalist prose, Ernst Hemingway, the man who understood the power of brevity and gave us that immortal one-liner: “A man can be destroyed but not defeated”, an exaltation of the undying spirit of human beings even in the face of life-threatening horrors.  But my choice is Hemingway’s lesser-known but much more meaningful line: “Courage is grace under pressure.”

It was actually an off-hand remark that Hemingway made in a 1929 interview with Dorothy Parker, and this gem might possibly have disappeared in the oceanic deluge of phraseology but for John F Kennedy retrieving and citing that beguiling phrase in the preface to his (?) best-seller of doubtful provenance, “Profiles in Courage.” 

On the face of it, the expression seems like a straightforward call for bravery and fortitude in difficult times but there is a much wider, more nuanced world of meaning compressed within that simple formulation. The insertion of “grace” as the critical value gives an altogether broader significance to the phrase, bringing the moral sense and righteousness into the mix. It is a moral code that is equally applicable in adversity as in triumph. It implies strength and serene self-assurance, composure without arrogance or boastfulness. It is being in the forefront when things go wrong.  It is about being humane, generous and merciful in triumph and accepting responsibility and never deflecting blame onto another when things go wrong. In short, the true hero is one who displays grace under pressure. 

Napoleon Bonaparte had long ago recognised that in politics, stupidity and cowardice are not a handicap. It is the tragedy of our imperfect world that the people who wield the power and decide the fate of their citizens, namely the political class who most need to show courage and grace under pressure have, for the most part, been the hollow men, the stuffed men, “headpiece filled with straw”. 

But hold on! At this unbearably sad time, amidst death and destruction, we have found a new hero and he is a politician to boot! This stocky young man in a dark, olive-green T-shirt and sporting a stubble, has bedazzled the world with his courage, his poise, his stirring oratory at a time when his brutalized country, Ukraine, faces a monstrous existential crisis and struggles for its very survival as an independent nation. Yes, the undisputed colossus of our deeply troubled world is Volodymyr Zelenskyy, the President of Ukraine. 

It is the cruellest irony that a man whose preferred vocation, that of a stand-up comedian, was to make people laugh and forget their woes, is now in battle fatigues grimly demanding that NATO and the rest of the world help his country out of this nightmare. Ultimately, it is the comedian who has understood and eloquently expressed the depths of tragedy bedevilling his beloved land. 

The archetypal exemplar of grace under pressure, Zelensky’s passionate yet measured tone and composure, his transparent honesty and forthrightness, have galvanised an entire nation and ignited the spirits of his heavily outgunned troops. You can feel the sense of solidarity that he has established with his people. The psychological salve that his oratory has provided a beleaguered nation compares favourably with the “blood, sweat and tears” sensationalism of Winston Churchill, a widely-televised verity that even the parochial English media would have to reluctantly acknowledge.

Zelenskyy, by saying it like it is, has unmasked the sham that is the comity of nations. Brexit had earlier called out the European Union’s absurdly utopian notion that there could be a sense of community beyond the nation, and Zelenskyy has exposed the cynical opportunism of the NATO members who act only when there are no risks involved as in their war playground that is the Middle East, but otherwise preach pious nothings from NATO’s headquarters in Brussels.

In the last month, he has addressed parliaments across the world, shaking them up by reminding them of their own past traumas, as he pleads for more than mere lip service. He shamed the members of the US Congress thus: “We ask for a response, for the response to terror. Is this too much to ask?” He wanted no sympathy but material help. As riposte, one member of the Congress, to his eternal shame, faulted Zelensky for his attire and for disrespecting the senators by not wearing coat and tie! Trust an American vulgarian to trivialize with his stupidity the gravest crisis on earth!

Permit me a stray thought on leaders and their attire. The beret worn by the iconic Argentine revolutionary, Che Guevara, became a symbol of revolution. Zelenskyy’s military green t-shirt is emblematic of his connect with the men and women fighting heavy odds in an unequal war – an authentic expression of empathy. So different in style and substance from our Supreme leader who, far from the battlefield, poses atop a tank in full military regalia as TV cameras film his impressive military play-acting for posterity.
Without mitigating the monstrous criminality of the Russian invasion, NATO cannot deny that its “open door” policy on membership has actually provoked Putin, who claims that in the 1990s NATO had agreed that it would not expand further to the East, which it has done. Having stirred the pot, it is now unforgiveable that even as Ukraine is being trampled upon and destroyed, the NATO members are busy assessing the pros and cons for their own nations. The deterrent actions taken, cynical as they come, are to impose only those sanctions against Russia that do not damage their own interests. 

Particularly appalling has been the role of the self-proclaimed leader of the Free World, the USA. Apart from imposing half-hearted sanctions against Russia, the doddering old man in the White House is guilty of indulging in the most unstatesmanlike abuse of Putin from a distance, when he should actually be engaging Putin the way President Macron has been trying. Biden’s crude machismo has actually hurt Ukraine’s interests. 

In the early half of the 20th Century, Will Rogers, an American entertainer and humourist, was prescient about what would happen a century later when he facetiously observed that “people are taking their comedians seriously and the politicians as a joke.” Yes, the former comedian President Zelensky, scruffy in a worn t-shirt and stubble, stands out as the only leader who has shown indomitable courage and grace under pressure in this apocalyptic crisis. The other leaders have conducted themselves in a manner that, to put it bluntly, has been “all crap”. 

A sociologist renowned for her scholarship and academic rigour, has often berated me for ending my essays on a gloomy, pessimistic note, because she believes that so long as there is agency and the will, individual and collective, there is hope. But try as hard as one might, the venal political class seems incapable of lifting spirits. One has to look elsewhere for intimations of hope and optimism, and where else but the sporting arena, which has produced remarkable heroes who have inspired people everywhere not only with their athletic prowess but, more importantly, with their courage and grace under pressure.

No Formula 1 fan will ever forget how the incomparable Lewis Hamilton was cheated out of a deserved victory in last year’s season-ending Abu Dhabi Grand Prix and a record eighth world title that would have taken him past Michael Schumacher as the greatest ever. Even the race director belatedly admitted that his misinterpretation of the rules had deprived Hamilton of achieving the greatest feat in F1 history. But for me, the moments to cherish were after the race. Though traumatised and hurt at the sheer unfairness of it all, Hamilton made it a point to congratulate the winner, Max Verstappen, and in his statement thereafter, was as poised as ever and did not utter a single word of complaint. That indeed was consummate grace under pressure!

Allow me to conclude with a real story about nobility, brotherhood, courage and grace under pressure that will touch you to the core and that makes me melt into tears every time I recall it. It was the 1936 Berlin Olympiad, Adolf Hitler’s showpiece event to irrefutably prove Aryan superiority. Jesse Owens, the black American champion, had fouled his first two attempts in the long jump qualifier, and waited dejectedly for his final jump, fearing the worst. At this pivotal moment, the German long-jumper, Luz Long – tall, blond, and blue-eyed – went up and advised him to change his mark to a few inches before the foul line which would ensure a clean last jump. Owens did just that and qualified for the finals, where he beat Long, who won silver.

Far from being disappointed, Long was the first to congratulate Owens and then walked around the stadium, arm-in-arm with Owens, an act of monster courage that thumbed a nose at Nazi racism and that too under the nose of the Fuhrer, who bristled in his moustache. As Owens stated later, “Hitler must have gone crazy, watching us embrace.” Long’s iconic gesture of friendship, sportsmanship and universal brotherhood was also a resounding message to the white racists across the world, particularly in Owens’ home country.

But that’s not the end of the story. Long was enlisted in the German Army in World War II. The last letter, the most moving ever written, he wrote to Owens from the trenches amidst “dry sand and wet blood”. Knowing that he would not survive the war, he worried for his wife and son, Karl. He asked “Jesse” to go to Germany when the war was done and tell Karl “what times were like when we were not separated by war. Tell him how things can be between men on this earth.” 
Writing from the jaws of death, Long was confident that his letter would reach his friend Jesse Owens. He died in the war but his letter survived. Owens eventually got the letter, established contact, and since then, the two families have been in touch through generations. A happy ending?

There is an abiding worry: Who cares for such nobility, such courage and grace under pressure at a time when only power and pelf matter!

(The writer is a former civil servant. Views are personal)