In the midst of all the beautiful architecture of old Russia, and some of the occasionally interesting new building, it is worth having just one quick look, for the sake of contrast, at the world of Stalin set in stone. Shown above is the largest of the seven huge небоскрёбы (sky-"skrebi", the second syllable has no meaning in Russian, it is just a transauderaton, if that's a word, of the English word "scraper" put into the plural) which were built in a ring round the capital between the end of the Second World War and the death of the Great Leader and Teacher. They seem to me to be designed to intimidate, to convey the impression that the individual is insignificant in front of their unassailable hugeness. Moscow State University, known as Em Geh, Oo (МГУ - Московскый Государственный Университет), is an enormous institution, once the pinnacle of the Soviet educational system. Today, students with rich parents can buy their way in. But still many places are reserved for the highest academic achievers. I went to give a lecture to a group of law students there in March (on Scotland's judges--in English!) and the person who invited me, Professor John Cleary from San Diego, told me that about half the intake is reserved for the clever students (who have to be even cleverer than formerly as the places for them are now restricted by 50%), while the other half buy their way in, at great cost. As a democrat, he disapproved of this approach. But he was open to my observation that it is not unlike Eton, where you have the super-rich alongside the super-clever, mixing and occasionally learning something from each other. "Education should not be too exclusive," I said, "either with regard to money or brains. Each has to learn to get along with the other." He had the grace to laugh--but then he is nearly 70. He grew up in Chicago where his father, an Irishman, was a "caap". He told me that the court system there, when he first started work, was almost as corrupt as it is today in Moscow--which is why he moved to California to practice. If he did not put his $2 bill in the Police Benevolent Society box (or whatever it was) at the door of the courthouse when he arrived in the morning to plead a cause, he would find his case mysteriously moved to the back end of the docket by the judge, with the result that he had either to pay or to waste the whole day sitting waiting for his case to come up. If he left, the police would let the judge know. It would be brought on while he was out of the building, and dismissed as having been vacated. Of course, petty police bribery plus judge-police collusion were comparatively innocent aspects of the justice system in 1950s Chicago.
Thursday, 24 May 2007
Moscow University
In the midst of all the beautiful architecture of old Russia, and some of the occasionally interesting new building, it is worth having just one quick look, for the sake of contrast, at the world of Stalin set in stone. Shown above is the largest of the seven huge небоскрёбы (sky-"skrebi", the second syllable has no meaning in Russian, it is just a transauderaton, if that's a word, of the English word "scraper" put into the plural) which were built in a ring round the capital between the end of the Second World War and the death of the Great Leader and Teacher. They seem to me to be designed to intimidate, to convey the impression that the individual is insignificant in front of their unassailable hugeness. Moscow State University, known as Em Geh, Oo (МГУ - Московскый Государственный Университет), is an enormous institution, once the pinnacle of the Soviet educational system. Today, students with rich parents can buy their way in. But still many places are reserved for the highest academic achievers. I went to give a lecture to a group of law students there in March (on Scotland's judges--in English!) and the person who invited me, Professor John Cleary from San Diego, told me that about half the intake is reserved for the clever students (who have to be even cleverer than formerly as the places for them are now restricted by 50%), while the other half buy their way in, at great cost. As a democrat, he disapproved of this approach. But he was open to my observation that it is not unlike Eton, where you have the super-rich alongside the super-clever, mixing and occasionally learning something from each other. "Education should not be too exclusive," I said, "either with regard to money or brains. Each has to learn to get along with the other." He had the grace to laugh--but then he is nearly 70. He grew up in Chicago where his father, an Irishman, was a "caap". He told me that the court system there, when he first started work, was almost as corrupt as it is today in Moscow--which is why he moved to California to practice. If he did not put his $2 bill in the Police Benevolent Society box (or whatever it was) at the door of the courthouse when he arrived in the morning to plead a cause, he would find his case mysteriously moved to the back end of the docket by the judge, with the result that he had either to pay or to waste the whole day sitting waiting for his case to come up. If he left, the police would let the judge know. It would be brought on while he was out of the building, and dismissed as having been vacated. Of course, petty police bribery plus judge-police collusion were comparatively innocent aspects of the justice system in 1950s Chicago.
