Melodic Laughter?

 First Lady Melania Trump's latest intervention in global politics was characteristically inscrutable and perplexing. She appears to have authored a letter to Vladimir Putin calling upon him to "protect the innocence" of children. But Trump himself—when asked about it—seemed to have no idea what the letter was talking about. And the text itself does not clarify which children the First Lady has in mind. 

The most logical explanation would be that Melania was referring to the thousands of Ukrainian children Putin has abducted and forcibly deported to Russia, in order to indoctrinate them in anti-Ukrainian ideology (crimes for which Putin is currently under indictment in international court—and which provide a key piece of evidence for those who accuse him of perpetrating a genocide against Ukrainians). 

But Melania's letter does not say anything about Ukraine or the context of the war. Instead, she calls upon Putin to "restore [the] melodic laughter" of unspecified children. "Such a bold idea transcends all human division," she concludes—sweepingly but mysteriously—"and you, Mr. Putin, are fit to implement this vision with a stroke of the pen today." It would be helpful if she told us what exactly she is asking for. 

The letter is at best a well-intentioned gesture that falls short. At worst, it is disingenuous. Either way, it is woefully inadequate as an act of advocacy. The letter seems to be a cry of protest against Putin's policy of kidnapping and bombing Ukrainian children. But since she doesn't tell us that—the letter appears to want to have it both ways. And, in the absence of specifics, Putin will of course find it easy to ignore it. 

Many of Melania's public gestures end up like this. According to the gender politics of the office of First Lady, she is often tasked with appearing in the role of empathizer—someone who cares in particular about children and their suffering. Yet, many of the children she is called upon to care for are suffering as a direct result of her husband's own policies—such as slashing U.S. humanitarian assistance globally. 

Children are literally dying of malnourishment right now because Donald Trump precipitously and unceremoniously cut off U.S. food aid—including for a basic form of starvation prevention that could save millions of lives at a cost of only $45 per child. Likewise, children are also dying or being kidnapped in Ukraine right now because Trump has largely realigned U.S. foreign policy with Putin's interests. 

Melania can't exactly criticize these things directly. But the demands of her office imply that she purport to care. And so, we get bizarre and uninterpretable public gestures like her decision to visit a child detention center during Trump's first term—housing victims of her husband's own policies—while simultaneously sporting a coat that bore the message, "I really don't care—do you?" A real head-scratcher, that one. 

I've said it before, but—in all these incidents—I keep thinking back to Hugh MacDiarmid's great study of pseudo-empathy and hypocrisy, "In the children's hospital"—which describes a Princess's patronizing visit to a ward of sick children. The kids, of course, are supposed to be grateful that she has condescended to grace them with her presence. Heaven forbid anyone inquire into the social causes of their misfortune. 

Still less should anyone suspect that the Princess—beneath her disingenuous display of empathy—is in fact a beneficiary of the same social system that put the children in the hospital to begin with. And so it is with Melania. She cries crocodile tears for the suffering children—but meanwhile continues to serve an administration that bears almost as much responsibility as Putin himself for contributing to their pain. 

Now let the legless boy show the great lady

How well he can manage his crutches.

It doesn't matter though the Sister objects,

'He's not used to them yet', when such is

The will of the Princess [...]

For a couple of legs are surely no miss

When the loss leads to such an honour as this! [...]

But would the sound of your sticks on the floor

Thundered in her skull for evermore!