Fan of Science Fiction Writing,

¶ … fan of science fiction writing, I had been exposed to many of the ideas in Evgeny Zamyatin's novel We long before ever reading the work, though I did not realize it at the time. Like most fans of science fiction, I had read Aldous Huxley's Brave New World and George Orwell's 1984, and shuddered at the idea of societies so marked by limits on personal freedom. I also devoured movies like the Matrix and 2001: A Space Odyssey, and marveled at how technological advances seemed to be a likely pathway for people to begin losing their freedoms. However, these ideas were merely musings, conversational fodder for a science-fiction geek who liked to discuss these movies with friends, all the while secure in seemingly limitless freedoms I had as an American citizen. After all, I had devoured those books and movies in my youth, in the days before 9-11, when it certainly seemed like the average American had greater personal liberty than any other person on the planet.

Even after 9-11, I gave little thought to the small changes to personal liberty that were occurring in American society. While I noticed the media criticism of Bush Administration-led political changes, I felt no restrictions on my personal liberty. Moreover, like millions of people before me, at least right after 9-11, I felt that those changes were acceptable. I asked myself: what good is freedom if one is not around to use it? Like so many people before me, my answer startled me. While I had always been a fan of personal liberty, when faced with the nameless, faceless specter of an enemy who personally hated me, though we had never met and would likely never meet, I felt like exchanging a few of my theoretical personal liberties for real safety was a fair trade. Furthermore, I continued to embrace that thought, even when I began to see things like the passage of Proposition 8 in California, which took away the rights of gays and lesbians to marry in that state, a restriction on personal liberties which could find no justification in state safety, and whose only precedent in civil law were the anti-miscegenation statutes that the Supreme Court had declared unconstitutional almost three-quarters of a century ago. I am not a homosexual, so the passage of the law had no impact on me. More significantly, I rationalized that the right to marry had only been recently bestowed upon homosexuals in the first place, and they had legal alternatives, such as domestic partnerships, which would give them the same benefits as married couples, while still protecting the ideals of marriage apparently held by the majority of Californians. I embraced that idea, even though I would have been horrified if anyone had suggested that, rather than integrating schools, Americans should have voted for a constitutional amendment supporting segregation. Most alarmingly, I was not even aware of these critical changes in my personal and political views. I had not only accepted the idea of a state that limited personal freedom, but I had forgotten what a dangerous and slippery slope it is for the government to begin restricting personal freedom. Then, I encountered Evgeny Zamyatin's novel We, read it, and was reminded how much one losses when one sacrifices freedom for security.

The opening paragraph of We reveals so much about totalitarian thought patterns. The OneState newspaper carries a proclamation that the Integral, a spaceship, is almost complete. With that proclamation is an invitation to prepare works extolling the virtues of the OneState. These words will be used to help "subjugate the unknown beings on other planets, who may still be living in the primitive condition of freedom, to the beneficent yoke of reason." (Zamyatin, p.3) More importantly, if these so-called primitive people, "fail to understand that we bring them mathematically infallible happiness, it will be our duty to compel them to be happy. But before resorting to arms, we shall try the power of words." (Zamyatin, p.3-4). In my youth, such a statement would have seemed patently absurd, a guarantee that the society involved was a totalitarian one. In fact, it would have made sense to me for a Russian author to write this, since I grew up in the shadow of a society that had survived the Cold War. However, when reading this passage, all I could think about was Dick Cheney's self-assured statement that U.S. troops would be greeted as liberators in Iraq, and how so many American artists, most notably Toby Keith, had done exactly what the proclamation in We asked its citizens to do: composed odes to the greatness of the state.

Zamyatin's protagonist, D-503, has already been fully indoctrinated into the idea of a life free from liberty. He is not only a member of OneState, but one of its architects, the builder of the Integral, which will ideally spread this version of happiness to others. D-503 believes that, back when people had freedom, the state failed them. He writes, "Try as I may, I cannot understand it. After all, no matter how limited their intelligence, they should have understood that such a way of life was truly mass murder, even if slow murder." (Zamyatin, p.15). It is difficult to comprehend what, exactly D-503 is trying to convey. How can he possibly equate freedom with a slow death? After all, the type of rigid sameness he describes as a result of the Table is the same type of monotonous existence criticized in works criticizing suburbia, such as Revolutionary Road and the Stepford Wives. Yet, while artists may be critical of this monotonous sameness, it has become the American ideal. In fact, hundreds of thousands of Americans are currently facing financial ruin because they pursued the ideal of the big suburban house without any limitations on personal freedoms. They wanted the loans for the houses and the banks, lacking any real oversight, gave them those loans, even though all parties involved should have known that the purchasers had no ability to pay for them. Now, Americans are clamoring for oversight and governmental protections. Reading this passage, I began to understand how one could come to equate freedom with torture, an association I never thought I would make.

In fact, it is only when D-503's friend R-13 talks about the paradise allegory that I really began to wonder about the alternatives that states and religion and other institutions offer to their people. Speaking of Adam and Eve, R mentions:

Those two, in paradise, were given a choice: happiness without freedom, or freedom without happiness. There was no third alternative. Those idiots chose freedom, and what came of it? Of course, for ages afterward they longed for the chains...And only we have found the way of restoring happiness...The ancient God and we are side by side, at the same table. Yes! We have helped God ultimately to conquer the devil, for it was he who had tempted men to break the ban and get a taste of ruinous freedom, he, the evil serpent. (Zamyatin, p. 62-63).

It does seem that institutions have only offered the two alternatives happiness or freedom. Why has ignorance been equated with happiness? Right now, Americans are faced with the same type of option: safety or freedom. Why have we accepted that choice? Why have we failed to demand a third alternative? After all, there is nothing about safety and freedom that makes them incompatible. Just like there is nothing about happiness and freedom that makes them incompatible. Yet, people have repeatedly and willingly accepted the idea that there are only two options available.

One of the other things that I found interesting in the novel was the idea of disenfranchised voters. D-503 discusses Unanimity Day, which is the general election day for the society. He says:

For the forty-eighth time, the Benefactor, who has demonstrated his steadfast wisdom on so many past occasions, was elected by a unanimous vote. The celebration was marred by a slight disturbance, caused by the enemies of happiness. These enemies have, naturally, forfeited the right to serve as bricks in the foundation of the One State, a foundation renewed by yesterday's election. It is clear to everyone that taking account of their votes would be as absurd as considering the coughs of some sick persons in the audience as a part of a magnificent heroic symphony. (Zamyatin, p. 143).