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240 pages, Hardcover
First published September 1, 2014
If righteous anger was the man's negotiating tactic, Kotler didn't care for it. He'd encountered it in more consequential settings and hadn't indulged it there either.
Even if a lesson was elementary, one rarely learned it in the abstract. The instruction had to be applied directly onto one's hide. ...
Well, what rigidity! Kotler observed with bemusement. Sometimes, after a run of such thoughts, he stood as if at his own shoulder, looking at a curious twin self. Who was the man who thought these thoughts? ... In spite of his true nature, he'd become this man. Forty years earlier, he'd been thrust, unwittingly, into this role.... ... From such pathetic beginnings he rose. Simply, he was forced to discover hidden reserves of strength. And once he rose, it was hard to return to the man he'd been before--a fairly ordinary man, with no grand designs. ...But then, after his ordeal, he was exposed to people in positions of power and saw how many of them were inadequate, even mentally and morally deficient. Little more than noise and plumage. And then it seemed impossible to leave serious matters--matters for which he had sacrificed everything--in the hands of such people. ....
There are matters of principle where you cannot compromise. Under any circumstances. If I’d compromised, it would have been worse. Far worse for all of us. For our country and for our family, which is part of our country.
"Say what you will, but you benefited from this Gulag. You had thirteen dark years followed by how many bright ones? Without those thirteen years, where would you be? You say living a normal life. Am I living a normal life?"
"What led you to think I could be shorn of thirteen years of my life? That I should be separated from my wife? That my parents should not live to see me liberated? That they should have to meet death without their son by their side? There is no compensation for such losses. Not in this life. And no explanation but weakness."
I accept that he couldn't have acted differently any more than I could have acted differently. This is the primary insight I have gleaned from life: The moral component is no different from the physical component -- a man's soul, a man's conscience, is like the height or the shape of his nose.
Land! The land! What, Kotler wondered, would his old Tatar prison mate have made of this? The repatriation and autonomy of the Crimean Tatars had been his struggle. He had given his life over to it. Were he still living, he and Kotler could have had an interesting conversation. What dreams they had nurtured and what distortions now obtained. And it was all to do with land. A measure of earth under your feet that you could call your own. Was there a more primitive concept? But nobody lives in the ether. Man is a physical being who requires physical space. And his nature is a prejudicial nature of alike and unalike. That was the history of the world. How much earth can you claim with another's consent? How long can you hold it if you haven't consent? And is it possible to foster consent where none exists? Kotler didn't know the answers to the first two questions, but the essential question was the last, and the answer to that was not favorable.