There’s a telling moment in the hit new HBO miniseries “Chernobyl” in which Lyudmilla Ignatenko is attempting to get into the hospital where her afflicted fireman husband lies dying. The woman at the desk tells her she cannot let her in because it’s far too dangerous. Lyudmilla begs and pleads and then realizes what will work. She pulls out rubles and slides them across the desk.
Suddenly, all concern for Lyudmilla’s safety evaporates. She is free to go see her husband and risk her own life, too.
It’s this accurate view into the corruptions of the Soviet Union, small and large, that makes “Chernobyl” such a powerful show. Without them, the miniseries is typical Hollywood drama. We have the lone scientist, Valery Legasov, played by Jared Harris, who is no-nonsense in his estimation that Chernobyl is a deadly catastrophe being underplayed by the party men around him. We have the heroic Ulana Khomyuk, played by Emily Watson, who will seek out the truth of what happened, no matter the cost.
Craig Mazin, the miniseries’ writer and producer, is probably most widely known for his obsessive hatred of his college roommate, Sen. Ted Cruz, R-Texas. Mazin, a liberal, has compared the Chernobyl disaster to climate change denial, but in trying to tell an accurate story, Mazin can’t help but portray the Soviet Union as it actually was: corrupt, backward, and terrifying.
A few days ago, author Stephen King tweeted, “It’s impossible to watch HBO’s CHERNOBYL without thinking of Donald Trump; like those in charge of the doomed Russian reactor, he’s a man of mediocre intelligence in charge of great power — economic, global — that he does not understand.”
Mazin responded: “First, I am so pleased that you’re watching. Second, I am so pleased that you’re smartly watching. Not that there was ever a doubt. ;)”
But if the show is meant to be some kind of indictment of Trump or America or really anything but the socialist system of the Soviet Union, then it’s a complete failure. It’s actually impossible to watch the show, in particular for an immigrant from the Soviet Union such as myself, without some deep well of gratitude that I got to grow up here and not in that awful there, and not see that one is miles superior to the other. Comparing an elected President Trump to the unelected government of the Soviet Union isn’t just foolhardy, it’s hilarious.
When I tweeted as much, I got an avalanche of responses, many from accounts proudly displaying the hammer and sickle, that America had many times behaved the same, if not worse, than the Soviets. America has had nuclear accidents. America has failed Flint, Mich. Americans deny climate change.
Yet to say that the communist system in the Soviet Union was horrific does not excuse any excesses or missteps by the American government. The people screaming “Flint!” are right that an American city having poisoned water is a travesty. But that they know about it and that they get to scream about it in public without anyone arresting or simply killing them for it is a rather crucial difference between the systems.
If “Chernobyl” is supposed to open our eyes about climate change, all it has done is showcase just how different the American way is from that of the Soviets. Climate scientists take out full-page ads in our nation’s newspapers urging action. Hollywood celebrities preach about it in interviews and at award shows. No one is killed for it. No one is jailed for it.
And only people who have always known this kind of freedom can even compare the two. Only those, such as Mazin or King, who have always been confident in their security can compare the state failings of Chernobyl to Trump. The miners have become the heroes of the show because the leader speaks his mind and isn’t afraid to stand up to leadership. In America, we all get to be like the miners.
In the third episode, Legasov is ranting at Boris Shcherbina, vice chairman of the Council of Ministers, played by Stellan Skarsgård, who had been among those officials quick to dismiss the Chernobyl disaster at the beginning as no big deal. After Legasov had educated him on the real scope of the disaster, their uneasy, unequal relationship — at one point, Shcherbina had threatened to throw Legasov from his helicopter — becomes one of more mutual respect. “Is this really the way it all works? An uninformed, arbitrary decision that will cost who knows how many lives made by some apparatchik, some career party man?” Legasov asks. “I’m a career party man. You should watch your tone, Comrade Legasov,” comes Shcherbina’s response. Unsaid is the answer: Yes, that’s really the way it works.
As they scramble to find a solution, Shcherbina tells Legasov their rooms are bugged and the party is listening to everything they’re doing. They’re fighting the disaster, but they’re also fighting the constant, oppressive awfulness of the Soviet Union.
It’s life or death, but the government has other priorities. In the fourth episode, a robot arrives from Germany to help clear radioactive graphite off the plant roof. The robot malfunctions immediately. The Soviet Union gave Germany “the propaganda number” about the severity of the radiation; unaware, Germany sent a robot that couldn’t withstand the true amount.
Stupidity, ineptitude, greed — these aren’t traits exclusive to the government of the Soviet Union. But so much of the rest is. The pretense, the bullying, the secrecy, the spying, and the deception are all hallmarks of its failed system. “Chernobyl” brings that all home, whether that was the writer’s intention or not.
Karol Markowicz is a columnist for the New York Post.
