There is a great movie moment in Carol Reed’s Night Train to Munich of 1940, a tale of Germany at the onset of the Second World War and the attempt by a dashing secret agent, played by Rex Harrison as a sort of James Bond avant la lettre, to spirit out of the country a Czech professor with vital information about a new armor-plating technology—and his beautiful daughter—after they have been kidnapped by Nazis. At one point, a Nazi guard is interrogating a lowly clerk. “It’s been reported to me that you’ve been heard expressing sentiments hostile to the fatherland,” says the guard. “I warn you, Schwab, this treasonable conduct will lead you to a concentration camp.”
“But, sir,” says the clerk. “What did I say?”
“You were distinctly heard to remark, ‘This is a fine country to live in.’ ”
“Oh, no sir,” says the clerk, sounding relieved. “There’s some mistake. I said, ‘This is a fine country to live in.’ ”
The guard is taken aback. “Are you sure?” he asks.
“Yes, sir,” answers the clerk.
“I see. Well, in future, don’t make remarks that can be taken in two ways.”
It’s almost a truism, at least in English-speaking countries, that totalitarians and other tyrants lack a sense of humor. Also, that bullies are generally too stupid to understand irony. In this case, however, it’s just because the bully does understand irony—at least to the extent
