This Tuesday, the Swiss Justice Ministry rejected Roman Polanski’s plea to be released from custody, increasing his chances of being sentenced in the U.S. for his alleged rape of a 13-year-old girl in 1977. That’s right, 1977. Why European authorities waited thirty-two years to arrest Polanski is anyone’s guess, especially since he had been living openly in France and Switzerland all these years. But what was equally problematic was perhaps the sheer number of celebrities and political figures who steadfastly supported Polanski in light of his arrest in Switzerland last week.

Upon Polanski’s arrest, the French foreign and culture ministers came to his defense, arguing that it “just isn’t nice” to arrest a man of such great talent. A few days later, the New York Times ran an article noting that “the arrest painted the usual picture of moralistic America versus libertarian France.”  The Times argued that as a country that lionizes artists and intellectuals, France has had a history of allowing this privileged group of people moral leeway. On the other hand, “Americans democratize celebrity, then love to knock famous people off their pedestals.”

But the recent public outrage at President Nicolas Sarkozy and his cabinet reveals a different side of France, one that condemns, rather than tolerates, the sense of moral self-entitlement among the elites. After France’s culture minister, Frederic Mitterand, demanded Polanski’s freedom, he was revealed to have been involved in sexual indecency himself, having “paid for boys” while on a trip to Thailand. This immediately ignited a reaction among the public, who has been demanding his resignation ever since. Needless to say, Sarkozy’s approval ratings have declined amid the sea of controversies.

Perhaps one can conclude that the differences in reactions regarding the Polanski case expose not a divide between American and European culture but a stark contrast in views between the elite and the general public. Debra Winger, Jury member for the Zurich Film Festival (which Polanski was due to attend before his arrest), labeled the Swiss arrest of Polanski as a “philistine collusion,” declaring that the whole art world will suffer as a result of this unfair and unreasonable arrest. Similarly, many public figures (Americans included) have stood by Polanski’s side, among them Salman Rushdie, Martin Scorsese, David Lynch, and Woody Allen. Even Whoopi Goldberg rushed to his defense, claiming that his crime “was something else but I don’t believe it was rape-rape.” All these supporters are collectively labeled in the blogosphere as “rape apologists,” and it doesn’t take an expert to notice that the public is generally outraged by the “skewed” moral compasses of these cultural elites.

While there is probably a legitimate argument in favor of Polanski’s release, times have certainly changed, and judging from public reaction, Polanski and his apologists will have a much harder time defending their positions in this age as opposed to thirty years ago. But how will this affect the future of art? Will binding art and artists by common law restrict creative expression in favor of mainstream conventions in the long run?