The Most Important Person in the World

In fiction following the tradition of romanticism, everything in the story originates in pivotal, vital, character-defining choices. Jean Valjean has to decide whether he will hide his identity and let an innocent man go to prison, or be sent back to prison himself. Monna Vanna of Pisa has to decide whether she will deliver herself to the mercenaries besieging her city, wearing only a mantle, or let her city starve. The characteristic drama of these works results from their focus on the power of choice.

It’s often said that such works are escapist, that real life does not contain such drama.

On Saturday, February 26th, one man — a single person — told Ukrainians he would not abandon them: “The President is here. We are all here. Our army is here. Our citizens are here. All of us are here. We are protecting our independence. Our country. And we will continue to do so.” On the same day, that man — Volodymyr Zelenskyy — told American officials, when they offered to evacuate him: “The fight is here; I need ammunition, not a ride.” Two days before, he had told a videoconference of European leaders, “This might be the last time you see me alive.”

He did one thing — made one choice — and the whole world changed. The entire country of Ukraine rallied around him and decided to resist in the face of catastrophic destruction. Ordinary unarmed citizens stood in front of tanks and confronted Russian soldiers. Poland and other countries took in millions of refugees. Thousands of Russians took to the streets to protest despite risk of arrest. A Russian state television employee, at great personal risk, broke into a newscast to denounce the war on the air, breaking through Russia’s suppression of opposition. Countries and businesses cut their ties with Russia. NATO suddenly got serious about itself. China started rethinking the urgency of its designs on Taiwan. The world’s resignation about the inexorable rise of authoritarianism and the decline of freedom was, at least temporarily, reversed.

One man set all that in motion.

And he needn’t have. He could have surrendered Ukraine. Or, he could have accepted the American offer to flee. We could have watched the Russian army march into Kyiv, resigning ourselves helplessly to the idea that nobody could have done anything about it, that the world is going to hell and there’s no way to stop it.

Not everyone is put in a position where their choice is so fateful. And not everyone in that position faces up to the situation and makes the choice. But it does happen.

Can you imagine that one person could be, for a time, The Most Important Person In The World?

In the works I described at the beginning of this article, the main choice in the story is prefigured by earlier choices that reveal the character of the protagonist — in fact, the episodes I mentioned both came from early in the narrative and aren’t the central decisions around which the stories turn.

Now think back to July 25, 2019 when newly-elected president Zelenskyy, who had campaigned on an anticorruption platform, received a telephone call from the most powerful man in the world. “I would like you to do us a favor,” said the president of the United States, asking Zelenskyy, who was seeking military aid for Ukraine, to provide the US Attorney General and the American president’s personal lawyer information that could prove advantageous in the American election.

The most powerful man in the world wants a corrupt favor. If he doesn’t get it, the military aid your country needs is at risk. Which do you choose?

Zelenskyy did not do the favor. If he had caved in, would he later have been the man who stood up to Vladimir Putin?

Integrity is power.