A reader writes:
Why is BHL’s statement being treated as him standing up for his "class"? When I read this, I don’t see a “closing of elite ranks”, but rather a man rising to make a public defense of the character of his friend, expressing his disbelief that his friend could have acted as accused. It's admirable that BHL would risk ridicule by standing up for his friend. He acknowledges at the outset that he doesn’t actually know what happened; he's just giving a character reference. This is, of course, worthless as evidence in court, but why castigate him for this?
Another writes:
You said, "I find the perp-walk theatrics and the public humiliation of someone merely accused of a crime to be troubling, which is the grain of truth in BHL's defense of DSK." I agree with this, and I also agree that it's a natural impulse to defend a friend accused of doing something terrible, something made easier by our reflexive unwillingness to believe the accusation.
What I found particularly galling about BHL's piece, however, is his implicit claim that DSK, by virtue of who he is, ought to have been accorded special treatment: "This morning, I hold it against the American judge who, by delivering him to the crowd of photo hounds, pretended to take him for a subject of justice like any other." The hypocrisy really kicks into overdrive when, a few paragraphs later, BHL praises DSK for policies "that were less lenient toward the powerful."
Another:
Isnt the more obvious, most recent, parallel to the DSK situation the Roman Polanski one? At least here, DSK's friends can pretend to fall all over themselves claiming innocence until proven otherwise – and there's some truth to that – while Roman's friends readily accept that he drugged and raped a teenager but don't seem to really care. I find the hypocrisy sickening, and depressing when it plagues people I otherwise admire (Bernard Henri Levi here, Spielberg there).
The Dish 