by R. Emmett Tyrell Jnr
Friday the BBC enlisted me to defend my support of Donald Trump for president. Though the ensuing television broadcast was in English, I found it incomprehensible. I was speaking in my native tongue to two apparently intelligent English-speaking women, yet their responses to my clear if amused rejoinders amounted to gibberish. They sought to understand Donald Trump’s victory in the election, but did not have the most elementary understanding of American democratic process or any grasp of rational thought. I detected no whiff of alcohol on their breath or any other sign of inebriation. They showed no sign of drunkenness or of drug abuse so I left the studio perplexed. Ultimately, I wrote my friend of 35 years, Andrew Roberts, the distinguished historian, and asked what gives with the BBC.
First I asked Andrew if he had ever heard of the so-called novelist whom the BBC had brought forth to engage me. I had never heard of her, and for decades I have kept an eye on the intellectual vistas as editor in chief of The American Spectator. She was a Nigerian lady of supposedly great gifts named Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, though it soon became apparent that she was in an impenetrable fog about the recent election. She gave a highly emotional rendering of the election, saying something about how it left her feeling very much “alone,” and I guess bereft. Why on earth she was appearing before a British audience to discuss an American election I have no idea. If the BBC wanted to explore creative writing I suppose she was their gal, but then what was I doing there?
My interlocutors apparently had no idea what the largest Catholic men’s organization in America might be. The host inquired, was it “another extremist group?” It was at that point that I was reminded that fruitful conversation is utterly impossible with the woefully ignorant. My thought was reinforced by the ever-helpful Chimamanda who observed, “There seems to be a refusal to accept reality. So [the moderator] asked you a question about the KKK, and it hasn’t been engaged with, and instead we’re being told that there’s this other group called the Knights of Cint — whoever .” My reply was “Balderdash, utter balderdash,” which “engaged” both of these ladies.
The conversation continued its downward spiral. Memorable moments came when Chimamanda notified me that “If you’re a white man; you don’t get to define what racism is. You really don’t.” I responded, “Do you know what the false consciousness [is], which is the theory you’re [employing]? As I pointed out it “is a Marxist concept.” The lady had not a clue as to what false consciousness meant, but you might think about its consequences for intelligent debate the next time you hear it employed by a lazy mind. Then Chimamanda came up with more evidence of the president-elect’s alleged racism. When he says a judge “is unable to judge him fairly because he is Mexican, that is racist.” I supplied her with the judge’s name. It was Judge Gonzalo Curiel who I suggested was as white as me. We are both white men. Race was not at issue between us. My correction had no impact on her. She continued in her invincible ignorance.
The next day, Andrew Roberts got back to me. He had never heard of her, either. And he added that “The idea that white males have nothing to say on race is itself racist (and sexist)!” Thus, my brush with these two ladies has been put in historic perspective by a historian, but I feel there will be more inscrutable moments with the left before its members quiet down. Medication might help.
• R. Emmett Tyrrell Jr./Washington Times is editor in chief of The American Spectator. He is author of “The Death of Liberalism,” published by Thomas Nelson Inc.