“Trusting Cleverness” – Folha de S. Paulo, September 6, 1970

by Plinio Corrêa de Oliveira

Right next to the restaurant table with several of us from the TFP, two men were talking at another table, completely engrossed in conversation. They were very different from each other.

A tall, overweight, ruddy-faced man with grayish blond hair, likely between 50 and 60 years old, ate with the voracity of a young man, drank heavily, spoke loudly, and made broad gestures. He probably was a wealthy, relaxed, and optimistic Scandinavian tourist. At one point, he mentioned that he supported his country’s left-wing movement.

The other speaker, who appeared to be in his 30s, was a Brazilian of average height, dark-skinned, reserved, and reflective. He ate and drank very little and paid close attention to everything he heard.

The Scandinavian, of the kind of political leaders who light up at the table, expand, and enjoy hearing their own voice, spoke in bursts. The topic was the glorious future awaiting Europe and the world.

You, my young friend, will see that the bridge Willy Brandt built between West and East has opened up great opportunities for the world. The economic barriers between West and East will fall. European capitalists can invest millions of dollars in the Soviet Union, boosting that country’s production and bringing Russia’s untapped resources into the global economy. Daimler-Benz, working with Peugeot and Fiat, is already planning to establish the world’s largest truck factory on Soviet land.

The young man replied:

Then, the chance to overthrow communism will finally present itself. It’s a quid pro quo one can demand!

The Scandinavian:

“No, things don’t happen that quickly. If the West intervenes in Russian politics, it could provoke sensitivities that will only hinder business. Our main goal is to do business, so it’s important to show the Soviets clear signs of our confidence and goodwill from the start. They need to feel they have nothing to fear from us. By earning their sympathy and gratitude, we can steer them away from the idea of war, which might be triggered by some Western politicians’ stiffness and misunderstandings.”

“So, will communism continue?” asked the young man. His interlocutor responded:

“Strictly speaking, perhaps not. Hopefully, once they are rich, relaxed, and grateful, the Russians will recognize the benefits of capitalism with open and honest eyes. When that occurs, the days of communism could be numbered. But to make this a reality, my boy, you need to be clever and modern by convincing others through proof of friendship and generous concessions.” As he said this, the Scandinavian lit up with a broad, mischievous smile.

“So,” said the young man, “Do you believe everything is resolved with heart and money?”

“No, not that. The brain also plays a role in this. Economic rapprochement fosters cultural exchange. We will exchange technicians, teachers, and advertisers. Once the NATO and Warsaw Pact armies are disbanded and the Iron Curtain is torn down, a large flow of Russians will travel through Western Europe, just as Europeans travel through Russia. Europe will become one family from the Urals to the Tagus. Prejudices will fade from both sides. The Russians will see how our system is better than theirs and will change some of their ideas. We might also learn something from them. Along the way, they will take some steps back, and we will evolve a bit toward them. It will be a great arrangement. My boy, I repeat: you must be smart.”

But then, will military barriers also come down?

“How can you imagine a policy of reconciliation if the military barriers stay in place? Can two people hug when both are holding pistols?”

The young man maintained a composed look, but you could notice one of his feet nervously shaking beneath the table. He politely objected:

“You believe this chain of causes and effects is clear and anticipate the weakening or fall of communism in Russia. Imagine that many clever Kremlin leaders want nothing to do with that weakening…”

The Scandinavian cut him off: “Then they will fall inevitably because there will be no place for rigid people in the new world.”

“In that case,” replied the young man, “imagine that, foreseeing their possible downfall, these ‘rigid’ people devised a two-stage plan. In the first stage, they would fill their pockets as much as possible with money and factories supplied by the capitalists. They would also smile as they watched NATO’s dismantling and the withdrawal of American troops. In the second stage—that is, until the exact moment when they started to feel the ground slightly shaking beneath their feet—they would invade unprotected Europe, whose gold, factories, technicians, and everything else would have served the communists to prepare the invasion.”

The Scandinavian had just paid the bill. He stood up, red with anger, and pontificated:

“You don’t understand anything. The politics of the future are a thousand times smarter than those of all the Machiavellians of the past. They are based on kindness, good faith, and trust. Those who take the first step in trust are the smartest and inevitably earn the other party’s trust. Trust, trust, and trust—behold the new cleverness of the new men in these new times. That is what we, in the Norwegian Socialist Party, believe.”

The younger man listened to the long speech and replied with a mixture of sarcasm and contempt:

“If the Soviets refuse to practice your ‘trusting cleverness,’ they will inevitably win the game, and the blame will fall on those who think like you.”

* * *

At our table, we all listened silently for a long time. As the young man responded, laughter burst out like thunderous applause. One of us asked where he was from. “From Minas,” he replied. Like an electric arc, an exchange of sympathy was formed. With mutual smiles, they celebrated their victory over “trusting cleverness.”