The Soap Bubble

Coups are quiet things that kill a bit at a time

by Bryan Zepp Jamieson

11/21/04

http://www.zeppscommentaries.com/Politics/soap.htm

I was hanging with the greasy fish crowd, a group of local professionals who gather at the town chippy for – what else? – fish and chips, and we were bemoaning the general state of America. One of them beseeched rhetorically, "Why didn’t any of all the science fiction writers WARN us that something like this might happen?"

This caused those of us who have actually read science fiction to exchange some startled glances.

Why, indeed, hadn’t they warned us? Why, those cads! They were holding out on us!

Of course, the reality is that the demise of the United States has always been a favorite topic among SF writers, and going back to H.G. Wells, they have entertained their readers with a long and glorious succession of stories in which the US either ceases to exist altogether, or becomes a twisted dystopia of one sort or another. Among science fiction people, only the destruction of the entire world, or ways to destroy Wil Wheaton, have been more popular topics.

In fact, in science fiction, a story set more than 50 years in the future that features a recognizable form of the United States is pretty much a rarity. All nations are ephemeral, at least in their mode of governance, even if the name and some of the social characteristics persist. In science fiction, the US, with all its military might and economic power, was a regular soap bubble.

I wrote a story (never finished, alas!) called "Martin" back in 1992, in which in a fairly near-future America, a twelve year old boy finds a book of letters and essays written by some guy he never heard of named Thomas Jefferson among his grandfather’s stuff. Intrigued by the radicalism of this guy who apparently was involved in the nation’s founding, he writes a book report on it. Within a week, the family are fleeing to Canada, chased by forces they can’t comprehend for reasons they cannot fathom.

A lot of stories had the US invaded by various nasty sorts of aliens who inexplicably wanted our white women and were allergic to water, or mice, or some damn thing. Some stories had vigorous undergrounds of Americans fighting the aliens through guerrilla warfare and sabotage and other underground activities, sort of like the way the [cough] Iraqis are fighting the American invaders today. [Yes, there was a time in America’s history when resistance fighters were admired and called "freedom fighters."]

When the invaders were terrestrial, they were usually Nazis or Communists, cue the freedom fighters and let’s watch the farm boy stop a convoy of panzer tanks armed with nothing more than a pitchfork, stern resolve, and a hint from Mary Lou that she might put out if he makes it back!

Rarer – probably because sales editors are a cowardly and superstitious lot who hate losing money – were the stories that featured America rotting from within. In fact there weren’t many prior to Harlan Ellison. (In England, the genre of social rot became popular in the postwar era of disillusionment and lost power, and Anthony Burgess, Aldous Huxley and George Orwell all painted chilling near-future dystopias of a recognizable England brought down from within.)

More recently this theme has become more common in America, and appears in such stories as David Brin’s "The Postman" (a book FAR better than the terrible movie made from it) or Neal Stephenson’s "Snow Crash." The latter was unique in that Stephenson painted a picture of a mad libertarian dystopia in which the country was hopelessly fragmented and repressed by warring free market factions. Turf battles raged between fast food chains while drugstores demanded payment for the use of adjacent highways.

A couple of science fiction writers got it right. John Brunner wrote "Stand on Zanzibar" back in the mid sixties, and painted an extraordinarily accurate picture of America as it became thirty years later, complete with corporate colonialism, politically correct racism, a desktop computer, and even MTV. It was a picture of a nation, still rich and powerful, hysterically committed to a frantic celebration of perpetual youth and a denial of impending collapse. Brunner captured the faux exuberance of the fin de siecle and hinted at the disillusionment of the oughts.

But how’s this for a description of the end of America? Brought down by severe corruption of government, it falls into the hands of a vicious pseudo-religious demagogue who turns the country into an exceptionally nasty little theocracy in which piety and patriotism are one and the same. Robert Heinlein, in his "future history" series, correctly identified the greatest flaw in the American national character: religious fundamentalism.

Sure, science fiction writers warned us. Some did an exceptionally good job of warning us.

Heinlein was warning America of the religious right clear back in 1947. He felt, given the chance, that they would destroy everything America stood for.

He was right.

I don’t know if Heinlein didn’t think of it (unlikely) or realized his readership wouldn’t understand if he did it, but he didn’t present the familiar symbols Americans adore – the flag, the Statue of Liberty, the cross – as empty shells in support of the theocratic regime.

Of course, that is how it would work. Following a bloodless coup, the new regime would want to keep a sense of continuity going. The flag would stay the same, the army would wear the same uniforms, Congress would still meet, and every four years, they would have authentic-looking elections to select a President.

Only when a Revolution has widespread public support do the names and characteristics of a nation change. Russia in 1919 and 1992. China in 1949.

One reason the revolution in France failed so catastrophically is because the revolutionaries didn’t have widespread popular support, and reached far too far in trying to change everything, from the flag to the form of government to the calendar. At that point, they no longer spoke for France or to the French people, and they were taken down.

Most coups are quiet little things, where little seems changed but everything is changed. Elections become shams, certain powerful offices become figurehead posts while quiet little functionaries run things. People salute the same flags and chant the same little patriotic poems. The military still blats about its "proud traditions" (even as it hunts down and kills "insurgents" both at home and abroad).

England likes to pretend that it has been a nation continuously since 1066, but the fact is they’ve had several revolutions, a couple of coups, a civil war, and vast reforms that remade the face of England a dozen times over. An Englishman from 1800 would recognize a surprising number of buildings in London, and be pleased to see the monarch still ruled, but would recognize naught else.

"There will always be an England..." Well, sorta.

Newspapers are quietly and carefully discussing some of the "little changes" that the coup, now consolidating, is doing, such as the purges in the CIA and the rest of Homeland Security to rid government of those not loyal to Putsch personally, or the quiet little add-ons to omnibus spending bills illegally held up until after the election that reward anti-American religious factions while cutting support for groups that promote rights or knowledge.

In the meantime, the vast story of election fraud and corruption is completely buried by the once-free media, and John Kerry pretends he really did want to win the race and lost fairly. He sold us out, but don’t worry; he was only the first of many to do so, as the Democrats, well-rewarded, settle into a new role, not of opposition party, but of Washington Generals, the team that always plays the Harlem Globetrotters.

Kerry ran because people need to believe America still has actual elections. The flag will remain the same, buffoons will still paint their faces red, white, and blue, and chant "USA! USA!" History books will still say the nation was founded in 1776, although I suspect you might hear less about Thomas Jefferson in the future.

There is, however, a growing conviction among many of the people that this new and only slightly different form of government is dancing with a corpse, and is doing so only to reassure us children that mommy and daddy are still happily married.