Computer technology is fascinating and has become an indispensable part of our lives. However, it is books about the past that make me feel human and connected. The internet is one gigantic social network, but it is books that make us part of the literary and cultural ecology.
That sets the context for this article, so now, to answer the above question directly. The book I would like to read is an old volume called In the Land of the White Death by Valerian Albanov. First published in 1917, Albanov was a Russian navigator aboard the Santa Anna, a Russian mission to find new hunting grounds in the Arctic. Setting sail in 1912, the ship was doomed from the beginning; inadequate maps, an incompetent commander, short supplies – the ship got stuck in pack ice.
Albanov and a group from the crew drifted for months, then abandoned the doomed ship to seek sanctuary in Franz Josef land. Fighting off polar bear attacks, walruses, perilous blizzards, food shortages, snow blindness, disease, and disintegrating ice floes, he and his crew mates made a 235 mile journey to refuge. That anyone survived such a horrific ordeal is testament to the courage and resilience of Albanov and the human spirit.
While there is a large body of literature detailing the daring exploits of mariners and navigators exploring the Arctic and Antarctica, Albanov’s story of survival against the odds is little known in the English speaking nations. In fact, Albanov’s ill-fated mission (which should properly be called the Brusilov expedition) began only six months after the Englishman Robert Falcon Scott’s doomed expedition met its end in Antarctica. Most English readers are familiar with the tragic hero status of Scott’s ultimately failed attempt to be the first to reach the South Pole. That honour went to the Norwegian Roald Amundsen.
The British expedition, as Scott’s was officially known, is equally famous to English-speaking readers as the similarly tragic mission by Ernest Shackleton. The latter, an Anglo-Irishman, attempted the first land crossing of the Antarctic continent. He failed in his objective, but his exploits have been lionised in the English-speaking media.
Albanov’s courageous breakout from certain death in the Arctic has not received the equal attention and publicity; Russia has long been considered an ‘Eastern’ country, not like us in the West. Indeed, since the Crimean War, Russia has been relegated as an outsider, or at least an outlier, when it comes to Anglo-Western culture. Certainly, during the Soviet period, Russian scientific and cultural output were maligned as the monolithic product of communist totalitarian brainwashing.
Russian authors, scientists, novelists and their collective literary output have been studiously ignored because of the political hostility between the Anglo-Western nations and Moscow. Perhaps we should be taking advice on how to survive in Arctic conditions; in an ironic twist of fate, it is the mainland US (and Europe) currently experiencing dangerous Arctic blasts of bitterly cold conditions. Even Texas, a geographical southern US state, has experienced freezing temperatures, prompting authorities to warn of the danger of frostbite.
Let’s change tack….
The other book I would like to read is Crack-Up Capitalism: Market Radicals and the Dream of a World Without Democracy by Quinn Slobodian. I heard about this book through a regular Guardian column called The Long Read. The title refers to the overarching logic of neoliberal capitalism; deregulate the economy, reduce government intervention in the private sector to a minimum, and let business get on with – business.
Special economic zones have become an increasingly ‘normalised’ fact of life. Whether it is in post-2003 Iraq, or New Orleans rebuilding after Hurricane Katrina, or Puerto Rico being restructured by venture capitalists, the ultra libertarian fantasy of a completely deregulated (and by implication, democratic) economic zone will provide jobs and lift people out of poverty in a booming economy. Except for two things; the private sector undermines democracy, and the jobs created are those of the assembly line sweatshop.
An excerpt from Slobodian’s book, published in the Guardian, elaborates an early social experiment in such socioeconomic engineering – the Ciskei ‘homeland’ in apartheid-era South Africa. In fact, for all the denunciation of state intervention by libertarian partisans, it is astounding just how much these corporate enclaves rely on government intervention to get off the ground.
The Bantustan policy of apartheid South Africa – separating each black tribe into its own pseudo-independent ‘homeland’ – was the basis for Ciskei in 1981. One of many such Bantustans, black Africans were forcibly removed to the impoverished enclave, where they formed an itinerant workforce. Ciskei was stripped of any and all labour legislation, and its sweatshop workforce whipped into submission.
The workers fought back against this government regulated experiment in economic social engineering. Pretoria, the central government and ultimate seat of authority, responded with violence. An open-air prison for its workforce – what the apartheid government called its ‘surplus population’ – the Bantustan basically collapsed under the weight of its own corruption, inefficiencies and labour fight back. However, the underlying ideology lives on, and its pernicious effects are still being felt.
They are the two books I would like to read. You are encouraged to read them too.