It’s Happening NOW

Everybody thinks Hitler got to power because of his armies, because they were willing to kill, and that’s partly true, because in the real world power is always built on the threat of death and dishonor. But mostly he got to power on words—on the right words at the right time.

-Orson Scott Card, Ender’s Game

In 2013, sci-fi author Orson Scott Card did a thought experiment so off-base it makes one wonder how he so accurately assessed Hitler:

In the essay, which was published on Card’s Civilisation Watch blog and titled “Unlikely Events”, the novelist posits a future where Obama rules as a “Hitler- or Stalin-style dictator” complete with his own “national police force” of “young out-of-work urban men”. He also suggests that Obama and his wife, Michelle, might amend the US constitution to allow presidents to remain in power forever before the next presidential election and would then “win by 98 percent every time”.

This thought experiment turns out to bear a number of similarities to Sinclair Lewis’s 1935 novel It Can’t Happen Here, except that Lewis fabricates an individual to fulfill the role of President Dictator. 

I first came across It Can’t Happen Here this past January, in a display of science-fiction classics outside the Special Collections department at the University of Houston library. It just so happened to be Inauguration Day, as the gigantic high-def screen on the ground floor beaming CNN would not let me forget. As soon as I read the exhibit’s blurb, I knew I had to read the book–while simultaneously being terrified to:

This 1935 novel imagines the rise of fascism in America. Boorish Senator Berzelius “Buzz” Windrip uses a populist campaign, in which he promises to bring back prosperity, to win the 1936 election for the presidency.

Really, this novel might more aptly be called “speculative fiction,” as Margaret Atwood defines the term in her essay collection In Other Worlds: SF and the Human Imagination: “things that really could happen but just hadn’t completely happened when the authors wrote the books,” while “science fiction” she defines as “things that could not possibly happen,” though she notes that Ursula K. Le Guin uses the term “fantasy” for things that could never happen and “science fiction” for things that could happen but haven’t yet. Definitions are relative, as facts have now also become.

So let’s see how closely Lewis has provided us a blueprint for how the next four years (or fewer?) might go–and how closely Lewis’s thought experiment mirrors Card’s. 

The novel opens in Vermont at the “Ladies’ Night Dinner of the Fort Beulah Rotary Club,” which is hosting military officials expounding on the idea that America has to arm itself to preserve peace. There seem to be only two people present resistant to the pressure of this thinly disguised militaristic political tide:

…one Doremus Jessup, editor of the Fort Beulah Daily Informer, locally considered “a pretty smart fella but kind of a cynic.”

There’s also Lorinda Pike, “the village scold, the village crank.” After the dinner, Doremus goes over to the wealthy Francis Tasbrough’s house and discusses politics with some of the prominent men in the community. The name Buzz Windrip is mentioned for the first time by Doremus:

With all the discontent there is in the country to wash him into office, Senator Windrip has got an excellent chance to be elected President, next November, and if he is, probably his gang of buzzards will get us into some war, just to grease their insane vanity and show the world that we’re the huskiest nation going. And then I, the Liberal and you, the Plutocrat, the bogus Tory, will be led out and shot at 3 A.M. Serious? Huh!

Doremus predicts (rightly, it will turn out) that:

If Bishop Prang, our Savonarola in a Cadillac 16, swings his radio audience and his League of Forgotten Men to Buzz Windrip, Buzz will win.

But Doremus is met with resistance:

“Nonsense! Nonsense!” snorted Tasbrough. “That couldn’t happen here in America, not possibly! We’re a country of freemen.”

Doremus responds with a litany of past wrongs that have happened:

Remember the Kuklux Klan? Remember our war hysteria, when we called sauerkraut ‘Liberty cabbage’ and somebody actually proposed calling German measles ‘Liberty measles’? And wartime censorship of honest papers? Bad as Russia! Remember our kissing the—well, the feet of Billy Sunday, the million-dollar evangelist, and of Aimée McPherson, who swam from the Pacific Ocean clear into the Arizona desert and got away with it? Remember Voliva and Mother Eddy?. . . Remember our Red scares and our Catholic scares, when all well-informed people knew that the O.G.P.U. were hiding out in Oskaloosa, and the Republicans campaigning against Al Smith told the Carolina mountaineers that if Al won the Pope would illegitimatize their children? Remember Tom Heflin and Tom Dixon? Remember when the hick legislators in certain states, in obedience to William Jennings Bryan, who learned his biology from his pious old grandma, set up shop as scientific experts and made the whole world laugh itself sick by forbidding the teaching of evolution?. . .Remember the Kentucky night-riders? Remember how trainloads of people have gone to enjoy lynchings? Not happen here? Prohibition—shooting down people just because they might be transporting liquor—no, that couldn’t happen in America! Why, where in all history has there ever been a people so ripe for a dictatorship as ours! We’re ready to start on a Children’s Crusade—only of adults—right now, and the Right Reverend Abbots Windrip and Prang are all ready to lead it!

We get some exposition about Doremus’s journalism career and his family (three kids: Philip, 32; Mary, 30; Sissy, 18), and when he goes home and and barks his shins on a lawnmower left out by his hired man, we are introduced, indirectly, to his hired man Shad Ledue, whom Doremus alternately resolves to fire and enjoys the task of attempting to civilize:

He was entirely incompetent and vicious.

Doremus reads a letter from an old professor of his at Isaiah College who says that the students have started military training and the college has ordered that anyone who criticizes it be kicked out. Later, while Doremus awaits a broadcast by Bishop Prang, we get some exposition about our worrisome presidential candidate:

He had worked his way through a Southern Baptist college, of approximately the same academic standing as a Jersey City business college, and through a Chicago law school, and settled down to practice in his native state and to enliven local politics. He was a tireless traveler, a boisterous and humorous speaker, an inspired guesser at what political doctrines the people would like, a warm handshaker, and willing to lend money. He drank Coca-Cola with the Methodists, beer with the Lutherans, California white wine with the Jewish village merchants—and, when they were safe from observation, white-mule corn whisky with all of them.

Within twenty years he was as absolute a ruler of his state as ever a sultan was of Turkey.

Notably—unlike some—this controversial candidate has a fair amount of actual political experience. He’s also only 48 years old. But in other areas, there might be closer similarities to our current President:

He was certain that some day America would have vast business dealings with the Russians and, though he detested all Slavs, he made the State University put in the first course in the Russian language that had been known in all that part of the West.

He also quadrupled his state’s militia, which protected him when he was accused of grafting tax money. A big part of his effectiveness is thought to derive from his secretary, Lee Sarason, who also probably wrote Windrip’s book on “remolding the world”: Zero Hour—Over the Top. A choice passage from this tome:

The Executive has got to have a freer hand and be able to move quick in an emergency, and not be tied down by a lot of dumb shyster-lawyer congressmen taking months to shoot off their mouths in debates.

The Republican candidate doesn’t stand a chance:

All the while, Walt Trowbridge, possible Republican candidate for President, suffering from the deficiency of being honest and disinclined to promise that he could work miracles, was insisting that we live in the United States of America and not on a golden highway to Utopia.

There was nothing exhilarating in such realism…

Doremus goes on an idyllic picnic with his family but takes a portable radio with him to listen to Bishop Prang’s broadcast, during which Prang declares he and his sizable League of Forgotten Men will do everything in their power to support Windrip’s candidacy. When Doremus complains that in a couple of years everything they do will be regimented under a dictatorship, all of his family—except, notably, Julian Falck, one of Sissy’s suitors—tell him that can’t happen here.

Supported by Colonel Dewey Haik, Windrip shortly secures the Democratic nomination for President, edging out FDR. Doremus talks to Shad about how Shad plans to vote for Windrip, since he’s promising “to fix it so everybody will get four thousand bucks, immediate.” Windrip releases his 15-point platform, which includes centralizing control of finances through a Federal Central Bank; a limit on the amount of money you can earn in a year ($500k); seizing any profits generated from war; prohibiting “Negroes” from voting, public office, and jobs that require an education; giving every person $5k a year; sending all women back to their rightful job as homemakers; and turning Congress into an advisory body whose approval he does not need to do things. Windrip is supposed to be a good speaker:

…under the spell you thought Windrip was Plato, but [] on the way home you could not remember anything he had said.

Here we might derive further likenesses to a certain someone:

He was an actor of genius. There was no more overwhelming actor on the stage, in the motion pictures, nor even in the pulpit. He would whirl arms, bang tables, glare from mad eyes, vomit Biblical wrath from a gaping mouth; but he would also coo like a nursing mother, beseech like an aching lover, and in between tricks would coldly and almost contemptuously jab his crowds with figures and facts—figures and facts that were inescapable even when, as often happened, they were entirely incorrect.

And

Aside from his dramatic glory, Buzz Windrip was a Professional Common Man.

Perhaps there’s less of a likeness in his family:

Buzz’s lady stayed back home, raising spinach and chickens and telling the neighbors that she expected to go to Washington next year, the while Windrip was informing the press that his “Frau” was so edifyingly devoted to their two small children and to Bible study that she simply could not be coaxed to come East.

Windrip intensifies his campaigning and appeals to an increasing number of groups, the poor and rich alike (the rich believing that only he can jump-start “the Business Recovery”). Doremus labels the movement as “‘revolution in terms of Rotary.’” FDR starts a new party to try to encroach on Windrip, but his appeals fall on deaf ears:

The conspicuous fault of the Jeffersonian Party, like the personal fault of Senator Trowbridge, was that it represented integrity and reason, in a year when the electorate hungered for frisky emotions, for the peppery sensations associated, usually, not with monetary systems and taxation rates but with baptism by immersion in the creek, young love under the elms, straight whisky, angelic orchestras heard soaring down from the full moon, fear of death when an automobile teeters above a canyon, thirst in a desert and quenching it with spring water—all the primitive sensations which they thought they found in the screaming of Buzz Windrip.

No one campaigns harder for Windrip in Fort Beulah than Shad Ledue. Doremus manages to get a ticket to Windrip’s campaign finale at Madison Square Garden, and in New York City he first lays eyes on a particular group of soldiers:

Three weeks ago Windrip had announced that Colonel Dewey Haik had founded, just for the campaign, a nationwide league of Windrip marching-clubs, to be called the Minute Men. It was probable that they had been in formation for months, since already they had three or four hundred thousand members. Doremus was afraid the M.M.’s might become a permanent organization, more menacing than the Kuklux Klan.

He sees them attack an old man who calls out his support for FDR and then violently break up a meeting of Communists; when the police come to break it up they arrest not the Minute Men who incited the conflict, but the Communists and Jeffersonians. When Doremus does finally get to hear Windrip speak at the rally, he briefly comes under his spell:

“I’ll be hanged! Why, he’s a darn good sort when you come to meet him! And warm-hearted. He makes me feel as if I’d been having a good evening with Buck and Steve Perefixe. What if Buzz is right? What if—in spite of all the demagogic pap that, I suppose, he has got to feed out to the boobs—he’s right in claiming that it’s only he, and not Trowbridge or Roosevelt, that can break the hold of the absentee owners? And these Minute Men, his followers—oh, they were pretty nasty, what I saw out on the street, but still, most of ‘em are mighty nice, clean-cut young fellows. Seeing Buzz and then listening to what he actually says does kind of surprise you—kind of make you think!”

But as soon as he leaves he can’t remember anything Windrip actually said.

At home on election night, Doremus finds a note on his front porch:

You will get yrs Dorey sweethart unles you get rite down on yr belly and crawl in front of the MM and the League and the Chief and I

A friend

Once Windrip is elected, Doremus tries to escape into literature but soon finds this isn’t viable. Some Communists try to get him to join with them, but he resists, pondering how all the different modes of running a society have problems and even questioning the country’s Revolutionary and Civil Wars, wondering if those who have tried to interfere with the State have done more harm than good. He finds no consolation in church. He visits Lorinda Pike at the tavern she runs—they’ve long been lovers. Lorinda notices that Shad Ledue is outside spying on them. Sissy comes in and Doremus gets Shad to drive his car back while he rides back with Sissy. She calls him out for being Lorinda’s lover and tries to pep him up to fight Windrip. At home Shad also makes an insinuation about Lorinda and Doremus fires him; Shad says he was about to quit for a political secretaryship. Windrip appoints his cabinet, which consist of his cronies, including Lee Sarason as Secretary of State. Then, there’s the inauguration, which is apparently the first to take place January 20:

The followers of President Windrip trumpeted that it was significant that he should be the first president inaugurated not on March fourth, but on January twentieth according to the provision of the new Twentieth Amendment to the Constitution.

Then the inauguration:

More than a thousand reporters, photographers, and radio men covered the inauguration. Twenty-seven constituents of Senator Porkwood, of all sexes, had to sleep on the floor of the Senator’s office, and a hall-bedroom in the suburb of Bladensburg rented for thirty dollars for two nights. The presidents of Brazil, the Argentine, and Chile flew to the inauguration in a Pan-American aëroplane, and Japan sent seven hundred students on a special train from Seattle.

(We’ll take the word of this omniscient narrator that the fanfare really was this extreme.)

Windrip’s first actions in office are to declare a “real New Deal,” put his feet up in the White House, make the Minute Men an army beholden only to him and Lee Sarason, and:

…that he should have complete control of legislation and execution, and the Supreme Court be rendered incapable of blocking anything that it might amuse him to do.

When Congress, whom his party does not have a majority of, promptly rejects this bill, Windrip declares a state of martial law and has the Minute Men arrest a hundred Congressmen. (Here is the real turning point, in chapter 15, a little less than halfway through the book.)

How does the public react?

There were riots, instantly, all over Washington, all over America.

When a mob tries to free the Congressmen from their jail and the Minute Men start to abdicate under the pressure, Windrip makes a passionate plea from a window for all Minute Men to help defend him, claiming they were once poor but they will be the ones to help make the new America and be the new aristocracy (the different but parallel approach to “Make America Great Again”….) and to, if need be, “give the swine the point of your bayonet!” The M.M.’s open fire. After some Congressmen make it back from jail, they vote, and the bill dubiously passes. When Bishop Prang tries to contest Windrip’s actions, he’s arrested, while the public is told he’s in jail for his protection against a Bolshevik plot. There’s not official press censorship, yet, but people reporting things against the administration start to get arrested. Windrip tells the country that they’re fighting

…powerful and secret enemies of American principles—one rather gathered that they were a combination of Wall Street and Soviet Russia.

Windrip has pulled off a coup in the first eight days of his administration (and in the book, all in chapter 15). Doremus continues to print subtly critical things about the government, sure the hysteria can’t last:

It was not that he was afraid of the authorities. He simply did not believe that this comic tyranny could endure. It can’t happen here, said even Doremus—even now.

Doremus’s friend Buck Titus lets him and Lorinda use his cabin. Windrip maintains power and four members of the Supreme Court resign and are replaced by his cronies. Windrip abolishes states and divides the country into eight provinces, claiming this will economize things but really making it easier for the Minute Men to maintain power. New military commissioner posts are created. All billboards are replaced with pro-Windrip propaganda. The Commissioner of Doremus’s county, north Vermont, is Shad Ledue, now “Captain,” despite having no legitimate military training. Minute Men enrollment increases. It’s one of the M.M.’s who is

…the first patriot to name President Windrip “the Chief,” meaning Führer, or Imperial Wizard of the K.K.K., or Il Duce, or Imperial Potentate of the Mystic Shrine, or Commodore, or University Coach, or anything else supremely noble and good-hearted.

The next Presidential mandate abolishes political parties:

There was to be only one: The American Corporate State and Patriotic Party—no! added the President, with something of his former good-humor: “there are two parties, the Corporate and those who don’t belong to any party at all, and so, to use a common phrase, are just out of luck!”

Soon this State’s adherents becomes known as “Corpos.”

Windrip then claims to have abolished unemployment by establishing labor camps run by Minute Men where the unemployed go to carry out labor assigned by the State under prison-like conditions. There is less mutiny against this than there might be thanks to loudspeakers enabling Windrip and Sarason to tell the workers, on a nightly basis,

…that they were the honored foundation stones of a New Civilization, the advance guards of the conquest of the whole world.

Border security is increased to keep “lying Red propagandists” publishing material making the Corpo State look bad from escaping. Senator Trowbridge outsmarts the dozen M.M. guards on him and escapes to Canada, where he starts the “New Underground,” or “N.U.” Doremus goes to his college class reunion to find that some of his old professors have recently been fired. At home, he hears a story about how Secretary of Education Hector Macgoblin got drunk and tried to get a hold of a former teacher; when he learned the teacher was visiting a Jewish rabbi, he bursts into the apartment where they are and ends up shooting and killing both of them. Despite being the obvious aggressor and invading a victim’s home, Macgoblin is acquitted of murder on the grounds of self-defense. Doremus writes an editorial for the Informer virulently protesting the event, and after debating with his family and Lorinda whether to run it, does, after stopping to visit his son-in-law Dr. Fowler and grandson David. After its release, a mob gathers outside the office and storms in; Shad enters and stops them from hurting Doremus, but then arrests him. He’s brought before the military judge Effingham Swan, habeas corpus having been suspended in the current state of crisis. They say they have enough evidence to shoot him but will instead keep him on at the Informer writing only what their men direct him to. Then Doremus’s son-in-law Dr. Fowler bursts in, claiming that they’re kidnappers, and Swan has him taken out back and shot. Doremus’s daughter Mary and her son David move back in the house, where the atmosphere has markedly shifted to depression and fear. He drags on at the office. Lorinda tells him she’s trying to organize some country girls she knows into a resistance. His friend Karl Pascal tries to get him to join the Communists, but he resists.

The Corpos then “ended all crime in America forever” by simultaneously arresting everyone even suspected of crime. They shut down all the universities and open their own Corpo versions. As soon as Sissy announces she’s leaving her high school, which is now making her pledge allegiance to the Corpos, Julian Falck shows up from Amherst saying it’s just been shut down and wondering what he’ll do for a job; they discuss marriage and children, though Sissy no longer believes in either. Julian starts driving around the doctor that Doremus’s murdered son-in-law used to work for. Concentration camps are opened (chapter 22) to handle the overflow from prisons and to house all suspected Communists. Doremus gets word of some rebellions that the Corpos bloodily put down. People have to watch what they say all the time for fear of being sent to a camp; many journalists are arrested. Then books that are supposedly seditious (including most literature) are collected and burned. Shad and Staubmeyer, whom Doremus works for at the paper, search his house and take his books. At the actual burning Karl Pascal throws a fit at his books having been taken and is the second citizen from Fort Beulah sent off to a camp. Reporters from London claim that Americans are pleased with the new State, not taking into account that such claims originated from fear. Doremus gets nervous his time is coming after he can tell his private papers have been rifled. Buck Titus comes over and says he’s gotten word Doremus is next to be arrested and that he’ll help the family escape to Canada with his fake Canadian papers. Doremus’s family convinces him (though he secretly plans to return to fight Shad once they’re settled up there) and they set off, but when they try to take a back road across the border there they run into M.M. guards who say they have to call their battalion leader to check the papers, so they turn back.

At home again, Doremus’s son Philip the lawyer visits from Worcester; Doremus is shocked that Philip supports the Corpos and has come to try to convince him to be more compliant. When Shad visits the house to see if Doremus ever talked to Karl Pascal about Communism, Mary promises she’ll kill him and Judge Swan. Doremus’s old professor Victor Loveland is caught complaining about his new crappy job and sent to a concentration camp; another friend is sent off when he resists the government moving a bunch of poor people onto his farm. Doremus, sensing his time is near, quits the Informer and goes to Shad’s supervisor District Commissioner Reek, who agrees to keep Shad from arresting him for it if Doremus helps him with some of his private writing. Doremus gets Julian Falck to put him in contact with some Communists he might do some subversive work with, but when he meets them they think he’s too old for the laborious work of distributing pamphlets, and are further put off by his admiration for Trowbridge. A man, Mr. Dimick, who claims to be an insurance salesman starts following Doremus around and eventually reveals himself to be part of Trowbridge’s New Underground, trying to recruit Doremus. He joins a group that starts writing and distributing seditious pamphlets telling real stories of the horrors going on that he receives through different messengers. Sissy starts getting chummy with Shad to get intel, and Mary helps distribute pamphlets. Doremus and Lorinda’s love intensifies in the midst of their work until Lorinda says that their relationship might be distracting them from more important things. Sissy goes to meet with Shad despite Julian’s concerns he might rape her, trying to get Shad to tell her who he’ll arrest next so they can get that person to Canada, but he resists. Going to the bathroom she finds some keys of his but can’t figure out a way to copy them, and leaves abruptly, shaken by Shad’s advances. Her courage inspires Julian to join the M.M.’s to get what intel he can; he meets with Sissy regularly to share what he’s learned. The lies from the administration keep coming about the successes they have achieved; the armed forces increase in number, and the gaiety of the populace steadily decreases. Doremus feels their N.U. efforts are futile, but continues with them anyway. Francis Tasbrough tells Doremus there’s going to be a shakeup in Commissioner offices, with Colonel Dewey Haik becoming Secretary of War, which means Tasbrough might get promoted, and tries to get Doremus to help back him, but Doremus refuses. Someone else is arrested and sent to a camp for writing the pamphlets Lorinda and Doremus wrote, and he struggles to keep his mouth shut. Swan gets promoted and has Reek arrested. Doremus is paranoid Shad is on to their pamphlet writing so they hide their tools and invite Shad to a poker game to throw him off. At home Doremus works on a pamphlet about Swan’s crimes.

On July 4 Doremus is arrested at home and his Swan tract is discovered; the rest of his NU accomplices, including Buck Titus, have also been arrested. He’s brought to District Commissioner headquarters and thinks he’ll be saved because the DC is Tasbrough, but he’s tossed in a cell without seeing him. The next day he’s sentenced to swallow castor oil and is lashed until he’ll admit he’s a communist, but he won’t. He goes on trial before Swan and is sent to a concentration camp at Trianon for seventeen years (and given the oil and lashes again). At the camp he gets to stay in the hospital for a month and then they let him see Dr. Olmsted from Ft. Beulah, who quickly tells him his family is carrying on. He’s assigned to sweep and scrub instead of working in the woods gang and gets to talk to a few prisoners he knew from home, including Karl Pascal. His family can occasionally visit, but only closely monitored. His cousin Henry Veeder is shot for trying to escape. Then Julian Falck is brought in as a prisoner, caught for spying in the M.M.s. Doremus is beaten for not admitting to be involved in Julian’s subversive activities.

Meanwhile, Shad is angry that he hasn’t been promoted even though he’s brought in more traitors than anyone. He has a black man who used to be a professor arrested. Then he turns up in the camp as a prisoner “for having grafted on shopkeepers,” though the rumor is it’s really because he didn’t share enough of the graft with Tasbrough. Doremus tries to dissuade the other prisoners from doing anything to Shad, who’s responsible for most of them being in there, but it has no effect. Someone throws a gas-soaked wad of waste into Shad’s cell and he burns to death. Since no one will confess who did it, ten prisoners are chosen randomly and shot, including Doremus’s old professor.

At home, Mary gets sick of how cautious they have to be and leaves to join the Corpo Women’s Flying Corps, eventually flying alongside Swan’s plane and dropping grenades on it; when they miss, she dive bombs her own plane into his and kills them both. Emma and David go to live with Philip; Sissy works for Lorinda. It turns out she’s the one who turned Shad in to Tasbrough after getting him to tell her how he made his money. Right after Lorinda tells Sissy she’s going to bribe the guard Aras Dilley to help Doremus escape, they get the news that Lee Sarason has deposed Windrip and taken over the country. We get exposition about how Buzz depended on Lee more than anyone but then Lee started to pull away. The way Buzz treats the White House might be somewhat familiar:

No newspaper had dared mention it, but Buzz was both bothered by the stateliness of the White House and frightened by the number of Reds and cranks and anti-Corpos who, with the most commendable patience and ingenuity, tried to sneak into that historic mansion and murder him. Buzz merely left his wife there, for show, and, except at great receptions, never entered any part of the White House save the office annex.

Vice President Beecroft defects to Canada. Sarason and the rest of the cabinet wants to declare war on Mexico to unite the populace, but Buzz is scared what will happen if they put guns in the hands of too many. Then Sarason, Haik, and Macgoblin show up at the hotel suite where Windrip really lives and are going to kill him but then decide to let him flee to another country. Sarason agitates for war with Mexico, and a month into his presidency, he’s shot and killed by Secretary of War Haik, who has the favor of the troops. Haik is a strict orthodox Christian and makes people long for the days of Windrip. Dilley gets Doremus out of the camp and back to Lorinda and Sissy, whom he spends a few days with before shaving his beard and escaping into Canada, where he becomes friends with Trowbridge and the former VP Beecroft, but most Canadians are bored by the American plight. America trundles toward war with Mexico at the same time it’s dealing with revolts against the Corpos. Then the Chief of Staff declares Trowbridge Temporary President, and his faction battles with the Corpos for control of the country. Trowbridge sends Doremus back to America as a spy; Lorinda shows up to say goodbye before he leaves. Staying with one of Trowbridge’s agents, Doremus dreams he’s back at Trianon and that it’s declared Haik has been captured and they’re all freed and his family is waiting for him. Then he’s woken with news that Corpos are after him so he moves on:

And still Doremus goes on in the red sunrise, for a Doremus Jessup can never die.

The End.

The chronic tension here is the state of the country, while the acute tension is the election of a candidate who promises to solve all the country’s problems. Shockingly, the candidate doesn’t live up to his word. Lewis gives himself the best of both worlds by employing (so to speak) an omniscient narrator while still focusing on a main character; thus we get to see things that Doremus doesn’t, like explicit conversations between Windrip and Sarason, and the scene of Windrip’s overthrow. It seems a smart move that Lewis does not make Windrip or any of the politicians in his coterie the main character here. The explanation for why he doesn’t seems embedded in the novel’s final line. By referring to “a Doremus Jessup,” Lewis reinforces Doremus’s role as an everyman, though his role is actually more specific than that, since not every man would resist the tide of fascism—though perhaps every man might like to believe he would. 

The focus on both Windrip and Doremus provides the reader with two interrelated arcs, one national, one local. But there’s also a third arc on the local level that engages the reader—that of the villain Shad Ledue. Shad doesn’t get his $5000. None of the poor do. What they get is a chance at power, at a class switch. Shad is the first to take advantage. Every insult he’s had to endure as the lowly hired help is paid back in kind. But in the end, he doesn’t get away with it; instead, he suffers horribly as a direct result of his actions; it’s the prisoners he put into the camp who kill him there. What goes around comes around it would seem, especially when Tasbrough, who supposedly put Shad in the camp for not sharing his graft, is then himself put in jail for grafting. Then Haik gets rid of Tasbrough for “garner[ing] riches too easily and too obviously,” but then a bit later we learn:

Francis Tasbrough, very beautiful in repentance, had been let out of the Corpo prison to which he had been sent for too much grafting and was again a district commissioner, well thought of…

It seems that at the end of the day the system continues to favor those it always did.

The book spans years, but can basically be divided into three acts: before, during, and after Windrip’s presidency. The last act feels the most rushed and slipshod (Mary becomes a proficient flying Corpo awfully quickly), but this seems appropriate to what the tenor of the country might feel like at this stage. Lewis chooses an interesting ending point, one still essentially in media res, but it’s an ending that’s more hopeful than what it seemed like we were going to get when Doremus was in a concentration camp, at which point I thought things would just get increasingly worse. It seems logical that Windrip would be deposed by the same man who helped him gain power, and even more logical that the deposer would then himself be deposed. So we end with two oppositional forces fighting for control of the country, and Doremus setting off on a risky mission to help the good forces (for it’s pretty black and white who’s good and who’s evil in this narrative), endangering the freedom that he’s in a position to value much more highly than us everyday modern citizens (at this moment in time, anyway). Doremus never gives up. He publishes the editorial about Macgoblin’s crime, writes pamphlets for the underground organization, plans to return to America after his family escapes (or tries to) to Canada, and does return when he finally actually makes it to Canada. He is a textbook hero—except for the fact that he cheats on his wife. Though his facility with the ladies—or at least one lady who is not his wife—might still fall in the confines of the hero’s textbook. At any rate, in our current age, Doremus still provides a worthwhile example to follow. Don’t give up, people! This can’t last forever!

But what’s more on display in this novel than the power of the hero is the power of propaganda, as per the disconcertingly insightful epigraph from Card. Chapters 5-20 begin with excerpts from Windrip’s tome Zero Hour, which allow the reader to see his propaganda at work, as in Chapter 18’s:

In the little towns, ah, there is the abiding peace that I love, and that can never be disturbed by even the noisiest Smart Alecks from these haughty megalopolises like Washington, New York, & etc.

The power of appealing to the rural voting base seems not to have diminished in the intervening decades.

The Minute Men’s lowest rank being designated as “inspector” instead of “private” mitigates the lowliness of that position:

The M.M. ranks were: inspector, more or less corresponding to private; squad leader, or corporal; cornet, or sergeant; ensign, or lieutenant; battalion leader, a combination of captain, major, and lieutenant colonel; commander, or colonel; brigadier, or general; high marshal, or commanding general. Cynics suggested that these honorable titles derived more from the Salvation Army than the fighting forces, but be that cheap sneer justified or no, the fact remains that an M.M. helot had ever so much more pride in being called an “inspector,” an awing designation in all police circles, than in being a “private.”

Windrip is able to claim he’s eradicated all unemployment through the creation of labor camps that are more like jails than jobs, but we can see how, from his perspective, he would be able to make this claim without himself thinking it’s an outright lie. This may or may not provide some insight into how our current president can make some of the insupportable claims he has. We see this pattern play out again when he claims to have eradicated all crime by arresting anyone who bears the slimmest possibility of being a criminal. Getting rid of all crime is apparently worth the Constitutional violation.

The Minute Men is perhaps where Lewis’s vision most closely coincides with Card’s, the latter describing Obama convening a similar institution:

In other words, Obama will put a thin veneer of training and military structure on urban gangs, and send them out to channel their violence against Obama’s enemies.

Instead of doing drive-by shootings in their own neighborhoods, these young thugs will do beatings and murders of people “trying to escape” — people who all seem to be leaders and members of groups that oppose Obama.

But the media will cover all the actions of the NaPo as if it were merely a full-employment program for unemployed urban youth. Or if they finally wise up (maybe after a few reporters disappear), they’ll be cowed into submission very quickly.

Lewis’s vision imagines fascism rising in America at the same time it was gaining prominence in Germany and Italy in the buildup to the Second World War. At that time, people who claimed “It can’t happen here” would have turned out to be right—for awhile at least. Four years ago, Card was apparently of the belief that it could happen here, though he attributed the advent of fascism to the wrong individual. Trump hasn’t raised a private army to protect him for grafting tax money (knock on wood), but his refusal to release his tax returns and reveal his horrendous conflicts of interest is almost as horrifying for the fact that he didn’t need an army to defend him. Not to mention that his budget proposal beefing up the public army mitigates any need for a private one…  

Now we’ll have to wait and see if two years is really America’s timetable for a despot’s policies to undo him.    

-SCR

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