Pinky: What are we going to do tonight, Brain?
Brain: The same thing we do every night, Pinky. Try and take over the world!
That was the opening exchange of every episode of Pinky and the Brain, the iconic 1990s animated series about a pair of genetically enhanced laboratory mice.
Every now and then, somebody’s maniacal dreams of total domination almost come about in the real world.
There’s Alexander the Great. And Genghis Kan. And Napoleon. And Hitler and Stalin and Mao and the current unhinged regime of North Korea.
But for sheer audacity, it’s hard to top Saparmurat Niyazov, a name that barely registers here in the United States. Niyazov ruled Turkmenistan, one of the satellite nations under the jurisdiction of the former Soviet Union, from its liberation in 1990 until his death in 2006.
To say he put an indelible personal stamp on his homeland would be an understatement.
Niyazov changed his last name to Turkmenbasy, which means “Father of All the Turkmens.” He imagined himself the benevolent Father Figure for his five million fellow citizens. Turkmenistan was soon awash with statues and portraits of the supreme leader, whose face likewise appeared on every denomination of money.
He renamed the days of the week and the months of the year. April was actually renamed after his mother. While he was on a roll, Niyazov eliminated the word “bread” from the Turkmen language and substituted his mother’s name instead – a not-so-subtle reminder that by giving him life, she now fed the nation.
Niyazov didn’t care for algebra and physics, so he banned them from schools. He also outlawed the internet, libraries, and freedom of the press.
The dictator furthermore banned beards, smoking, recorded music, ballet, chewing tobacco, the circus, opera, symphonies, and the National Academy of Science. He summarily ordered the arrest of artists who had lip synced their own music at a concert. Now that’s a law we can all get behind.
Niyazov, not wanting to be left out of the music scene, wrote a new national anthem to be sung at all major national events. The song is a hymn of praise to Saparmurat Niyazov.
He ordered the construction of a 250-foot tall “Neutrality Arch,” a towering marble structure topped by a $12 million golden statue of himself. The statue is affixed to a mechanical axis that rotates 360 degrees every day so its face is always looking toward the sun.
Niyazov wrote a rambling “religious book” called Ruhnama (for which he renamed the month of September). He was so pleased with the result that he awarded himself the National Award for Literature, and ordered that approximately one third of every child’s public education should focus on the study of his words.
The great ruler then insisted on adding a few questions about Ruhnama to the driver’s license exam, and announced for good measure that anyone who read his book cover-to-cover three times would automatically be granted entrance to heaven – as if Peter had handed him the keys to the kingdom and said, “I’ll let you take things from here.”
There’s nothing like a healthy dose of self-confidence.
Given the chance to be like Pinky and the Brain and take over the world, some leaders simply can’t resist.
Which is what makes the behavior of the real King of the Cosmos so remarkable.
Jesus arrived on earth without so much as a carry-on bag. There was no smoke, no fire, no pomp, and no circumstance. His life and ministry can be described as “humble,” a word rarely attributed to supreme leaders.
When the apostle Paul was searching for a way to answer the all-important question, “How exactly are people supposed to live?” he reached for what many Bible scholars identify as a pre-existing Christian creed or hymn. Paul himself may have written it. We read in Philippians 2:5-8:
“Think of yourselves the way Christ Jesus thought of himself. He had equal status with God but didn’t think so much of himself that he had to cling to the advantages of that status no matter what. Not at all. When the time came, he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human! Having become human, he stayed human. It was an incredibly humbling process. He didn’t claim special privileges. Instead, he lived a selfless, obedient life and then died a selfless, obedient death—and the worst kind of death at that—a crucifixion.”
Jesus did indeed plan to take over the world. His revolution, however, would not be driven by raw power but by unconditional love. He didn’t leave behind a radicalized school curriculum, a self-serving autobiography, or a slew of golden statues. His most tangible contribution would be the changed hearts of his followers.
His legacy, in other words, turns out to be us.
Which, when you think about it, is a pretty risky strategy for trying to take over the world.
And the most amazing thing of all?
He insists that it’s really going to work – and that we’re just the ones to make it happen.
Comments