One or two bomb throwers can blow up the international community. Donald Trump is appointing a whole cabinet of them.
Shortly after the November election, a friend sent me a photo via Facebook. It was a sandwich board outside a bookstore in Massachusetts.Ā : āPost-apocalyptic fiction has been moved to our current affairs section.ā
My friend added a note of her own: āTrumpās election should help with sales of your new book.ā
My gain, humanityās loss.
My new book is a dystopian novel about how the world falls apart.Ā Splinterlands, published this month by Haymarket andĀ , was not intended to be a depiction of current events. I didnāt think that Britain would vote to leave the European Union (EU) last June. Nor did I think Donald Trump would win the November election.
But when I was writing the manuscript a year ago, I was certainly worried about the trend lines.
After all, the EU has sustained a number of heavy body blows over the last several years. These challenges have ranged from the Greek economic crisis and the assault of euroskeptical governments in Eastern Europe to the greater popularity of right-wing populists in Western Europe, and the rising xenophobia that has accompanied the large influx of immigrants from conflict zones in the Middle East.
In the United States, meanwhile, Trump was articulating the profound unease that many Americans have felt about economic globalization, political elites and liberal culture. I didnāt think heād win in 2016 (and, according to the popular vote, he didnāt). But I was worried that a more capable politician would run on Trumpās platform and eke out a victory in 2020.
³§“Ē,ĢżSplinterlandsĀ was supposed to be a warning. Britons were supposed to handily defeat Brexit; Hillary Clinton was supposed to easily win the Electoral College. Donāt be complacent, I was warning my future readers: The EU could still fragment, and the US could still elect a neo-fascist. Iād issued a similar warning in August 2008 about aĀ āāĀ happening as a result of the aggressively centrist policies of Barack Obama.
Now, with millions of Americans concerned about a Trumpocalypse, complacency is no longer my chief concern.
Sometimes, the future rushes at you like an oncoming car that suddenly crosses over the centerline of the highway. Jerked out of a near-snooze, you try to swerve. But the future hits you head on. In the wee hours of the morning of November 10, whatās the last thought in your head before you sink into unconsciousness?
I sure hope the air bag works.
The Bomb Squad
There is nothing more frightening than a bomb squad thatās trained not to defuse munitions, but rather to blow up the very institutions theyāre supposed to protect. Trump is assembling quite a team of these auto-demolition experts.
Thereās the EPA administrator who places his faith in fossil fuels andĀ Ā environmental regulations; the secretary of labor whoĀ Ā workers with robots; the head of the education department who would dearly love toĀ Ā the public education system. Then thereās Rick Perry, who once promised to eliminate the very Energy Department that Trump wants him to lead. Who knows what Ben Carson will do with housing or Linda McMahon at the Small Business Association. Theyāre eminently unqualified. Trump, the putative anti-elitist, would have done the world a favor by selecting nominees at random from the phone book.
Equally great damage will be done in the realm of foreign policy.
°ä“DzԲõ¾±»å±š°łĢż, who is up for the position of deputy secretary of state. Itās bad enough that the choice for secretary of state is a top oil executive who knows nothing about diplomacy and is looking forward to negotiating with Russian President Vladimir Putin, oligarch to oligarch. Incomparably worse is a nominee who knows the inner workings of international relations and wants nothing better than to blow them up. Expect Exxon exec Rex Tillerson to travel around the world and conclude deals that enrich his buddies. Bolton, meanwhile, will be busy destroying everything in sight.
Former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher once said that she didnāt believe in āsociety.ā Bolton, similarly, doesnāt believe in the international community. HeĀ Ā that the United Nations complex in New York would be better off if it lost ten floors.
Bolton unapologetically endorsed the Iraq War,Ā Ā against Iran, andĀ Ā the dĆ©tente with Cuba. He wants toĀ Ā with China. Heās a big fan of IsraelāsĀ Ā and EgyptāsĀ . HeĀ Ā as an escape from āthe EU Titanic.ā He canāt wait to take the gloves off to fightĀ Ā against āradical Islam.ā
How could the realm of international relations produce such a violent, abrasive bomb-thrower like John Bolton? You might as well ask why the human body produces potentially fatal cancer cells.
In my novelĀ Splinterlandsāand you can read anĀ āI write about a future in which the international community has disappeared, the EU has fallen apart and large nation-states like Russia, China and the US have fractured. Even organic farming communes have to maintain well-stocked arsenals to protect themselves from the war of all against all taking place outside their walls. The rich have seceded from society; the poor are at the mercy of the elements; and the middle class has been whittled down to a mere sliver. Without any international cooperation to speak of, the planet canāt address the common ills of climate change, global pandemics and economic inequality.
It doesnāt take much to unravel the international community. One or two bomb throwers can do the trick.
Donald Trump is appointing a whole cabinet of them.
From Here to Dystopia
In that old TV ad, Madge the manicurist tells her customer to use Palmolive to wash dishes because it will soften her hands. The customer expresses doubt. āBut youāre already soaking in it,ā Madge points out, and the camera zooms in on the customerās hand resting in the green liquid.
Dystopias are almost always set in the future. Readers might identify certain unpleasant aspects of contemporary life exaggerated for effect by the science fiction writer. Women have no control over their bodies inĀ The Handmaidās Tale. Everyone is stupefied by drugs inĀ Brave New World. Water has become the most precious natural resource inĀ The Water Knife.
But sometimes, as we dip into the latest dystopian fiction, we discover that, oops, weāre already soaking in it. George Orwell was famously undecided about the title of his most notorious dystopian fiction. He was certainly thinking of the date he finished the book, 1948, when he settled on its anagram,Ā 1984. That fictional year almost immediately became synonymous with a future of unrelenting despair. In reality, as the Iron Curtain clanked shut in the middle of Europe, 1948 was already pretty dystopian. War between Oceania and the other two super-states was just around the corner, and Newspeak had already taken over the public sphere.
Orwell intended his novel as a cautionary tale. Unless the Britons of 1948 made wiser political decisions, they would one day wake up in Airstrip One with Big Brother staring at them from posters on every street corner. They had to be careful not to take the wrong turn off historyās highway.
±õ²ŌĢżSplinterlands, the main character is obsessed with this very question of when the world took its fatal detour.
āFor decades, scholars have put the onus on large impersonal events ā Hurricane Donald, the Great Panic of 2023, the displacement of the dollar ā as if a policy nudge or two one way or another might have prevented these developments. Iāve always focused instead on 2018. As far as I can tell, that was the last moment when we had a definite shot at dodging the bullet.
āThe problem is: It wasnāt a single bullet and there wasnāt a single gun. If several EU countries hadnāt set up internal borders against refugees, migrant workers, and perceived terrorists, if the United States hadnāt made one last effort to preserve its global military āfootprint,ā if the world community hadnāt paid mere lip service to its previous commitments to curb carbon emissions, the story might have turned out differently.ā
Looking backward, history always seems inevitable. However, since we face forward into the unknown, we can always change our story. Even when the headwind is strong and the ground slopes up, we can alter our trajectory. Even when we look into the distance and Trump is as ubiquitous as a reality-show Big Brother, we canĀ Ā to accept this manufactured reality.
Dystopias are not always safely in the future. We may discover with a start that we are soaking in it. But we are not just passive readers. We are also active writers. And with a lot of grit and old-fashioned organizing, from bookstores to barricades, we can write ourselves a different story.
*[This article was originally published by .]
The views expressed in this article are the authorās own and do not necessarily reflect 51³Ō¹Ļās editorial policy.
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