Flying like a communist

(Second of two parts)

It’s not a question that comes up often, but it’s an interesting one nonetheless: How do communists fly?

If flying like a nationalist is possible thanks to the service of our national airline, flying like a communist isn’t as easy. The act of flying on thousand-dollar international fare might be “un-communist” by definition, but so does its ridiculous carbon footprint make it “un-environmentalist.” Though that hasn’t stopped Al Gore from traveling the world on a private jet while promoting a greener lifestyle and neither should that stop communists from fighting for the dream of a classless society, assuming they need to fly for it.

So the next time a conscientious communist insisting on taking an international flight wonders what Karl Marx would do in his shoes, tell him that flying Economy class should be a good place to start. The fares there are cheaper and it brings one closer to the proletariat, or at least – remember that fares can begin at a thousand dollars – the frugal bourgeois. But that raises another issue that may well disqualify communists from taking any mainstream commercial flights: it’s bad enough to support a multinational corporation that extorts from passengers exorbitant fares, plus fuel surcharges, plus airport tax, but how can one support a business designed to treat passengers differently based on who can pay for business class?

We’re taught as kids that class is one of those subjects to avoid in polite conversation, so if that is the case, it is amazing how no one cares about how politically incorrect commercial airlines are with their specially designed First, Business and Economy classes. Rather than hiding this awkward segregation of rich and poor, commercial airlines celebrate it.

This makes for an interesting relationship between Economy and Business class passengers (Marx had a term for it — class war). Because planes are boarded from the front, those headed for Economy have no choice but to walk past Business class, passing by leather seats, personal televisions and generous leg room. It’s as if, in an effort to increase Business class ticket sales (or simply insult passengers), airlines are designed to remind Economy class passengers of what they will spend the rest of their flight missing out on.

Once passengers are seated, there are enough parallels to be made with society on the ground that you can spend the rest of the flight just thinking about. Just as many observe that Manila’s gated communities exist so close to poverty and squalor, so does Business class lay curtain ahead (yet worlds away) from Economy. Just as tinted windows make the unconscionable act of being rich easier to bear, so would a Business class passenger be unable to enjoy their champagne and foie gras if only he saw the grub they served in Economy. And just as the rat race leaves us living in a dog-eat-dog world, Economy class passengers are forced to fight over whatever space Business class haven’t used. Your comfort comes at the expense of another’s as passengers wrestle for arm rests, push back on seats and fight back by reclining their backrests.

It’s no wonder why Gibo’s ad agents thought that an airplane would make for a poignant metaphor for society at large. His vision was completely different though. Rather than the Filipinos lifting themselves up from poverty, commercial airlines lead us to believe that Economy class passengers, as second — or third-class citizens, are being left behind in the dust.

So if most commercial airlines promote an overtly capitalist message, imposing their capitalist values on those who dare step onboard, surely there must be some communist-friendly carrier. What would a Lonely Planet travel guide written for communists say?

The North Korean airline Air Koryo might be up there on the list. Aboard their Soviet era jets though, something is amiss: even there, passengers are segregated into Economy and Business class. It sounds un-communist. But then again, this is Kim Jong Il’s pseudo-socialist state, where the dear leader dines on airlifted lobster as the rest of the country survives off state rations. It makes sense that North Korea’s national airline, like the country itself, has lost its commitment to equality along the way.

The former state-run Soviet airline Aeroflot has at least shed any pretense of being a communist airline. Like everything else during the collapse of the Soviet Union, it was sold off to the highest bidder. The airline that once served Russia’s Bolsheviks now serves its billionaires. Its Soviet-era fleet has been phased out for Western-built aircraft. The airline’s logo, still sporting a hammer and sickle, remains its only legacy of the past.

Alas, Fidel Castro’s Cubana de Aviación may be your best bet. It was Cubana that flew Che Guevara as he traveled the world as the missionary of communism, spreading his romantic vision to revolutionaries as far away as the Congo. Yet even Cubana has now sold out to profit making with its new business class seats.

What then for the conscientious communist who mulls over plane tickets and asks what Marx in his shoes would do? Well, the least he can do is ride economy, preferably on budget airlines like Cebu Pacific. Until a communist-friendly airline takes shape, he has no choice but to. Just like the dealing with the seeming hypocrisy of taking carbon-heavy flights, there’s nothing wrong with flying so long as the ends justify the means. So book those tickets and pack those bags so that a revolution in this “class war” can finally start to take place. And with enough luck, before you know it, airport bookstores will be selling the new favorite in-flight reading: Marx’s Das Kapital.

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The author is a high school senior at the International School Manila. For comments, suggestions or questions feel free to email levistel@gmail.com.