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Intriguing, entertaining and
frighteningly plausible. That, in a nutshell, describes Kyle
Mills’ political thriller, The Second Horseman, an
‘airport reading rack’ novel about a nuclear holocaust facing
the Middle East as a unquestioningly pro-Israel America stokes
Islamic fanaticism. Despite some loose ends and plot hiccups,
this is by far the best of Mills’ works and one of the best of
its genre. I don’t just say this on account of the politics,
which, as an Arab Muslim with a British education, I am
inclined to agree with – he needles Arabs often enough and not
always without cause – but because of the level of artistry on
display.
With all due respect to sensitive American authors, symbolism,
subtlety and irony are not usually their strong points – all
of which do lift The Second Horseman well above
run-of-the-mill US thrillers nowadays, even if a bit below the
enviable level achieved by the best British spy-novels. The
last American novelist who combined literate political themes
and nail-biting suspenseful action was Robert Ludlum. It’s
fair to say that Mills is inheriting his throne, and taking a
more genial political direction too. Still, this somewhat
crude literary state of affairs is hardly the fault of Yank
authors, given the vicissitudes of the publishing industry,
the critics and, ultimately, the American readership. I don’t
claim to have entirely deciphered every implied allegory here,
mind you, but that in itself is a healthy sign. How many of us
can completely figure out a John le Carré novel or even expect
to?
So long as symbolism doesn’t get in the way of the
entertainment value, and the story line is chockfull of
relevant themes and pungent observations, that should be good
enough to allay carping critics. After all, many of Mills’
predictions in Sphere of Influence, the first book of
his I read, have come unnervingly true, as have some of the
more ominous possibilities in The Second Horseman. For
example, Mills posits that the Israelis pull out of Gaza, do
everything to make sure Gaza implodes, and then amass their
troops on the border to reenter Gaza because of its allegedly
inexplicable violence.
Then there is what Mills foresees as a growing Al-Qaeda
penetration of the western Levant – Syria, Lebanon, Palestine
– alongside the utter failure of the US intelligence and law
enforcement apparatuses to deal effectively with terrorism for
the usual litany of reasons: bureaucratic infighting,
corruption, cultural myopia, lobbying and vested interests.
And don’t forget the vast nuclear proliferation threat posed
by the ex-Soviet bloc - woefully neglected in Washington - and
the related problem of prevalence of an implacable Cold
War-mindset; focusing too much on state-sponsored terrorism (their
state-sponsored terrorism, that is, not ours or our allies)
instead of on wily footloose terrorists armed with rogue
nukes.
And that’s only the half of the factors that come into play as
Mills’ tracks the inevitable logic of what may very well
happen as a result of this combustible stew. The novel,
in short, sounds warning bells about what is in store if the
US remains on its current course, a sorry fate highlighted
tragically by the intriguing relationship of liberal President
Morris and his Arab American National Security Advisor, Edwin
Hamdi. They spend their political careers trying to undo the
mistakes of their saber-toothed predecessors only to be faced
ultimately by a wicked fate accompli. Too much has already
been set in motion and so events will follow their own
malevolent course, with the world spinning out of control.
In one disturbingly plausible scene President Morris finds
himself forced to bomb Syria so that he can then pursue a
subsequent conciliatory policy towards Arabs and Muslims that
Hamdi shrewdly urges. What has transpired is that a loner, who
happens to be a Syrian with no organizational affiliation,
blows himself up next to a synagogue and the President must
respond aggressively to placate the public and you-know-which
lobby. In line with present day events, Hamdi protests to the
President that Syria can’t be held accountable for its porous
borders with Iraq given America’s own problems with Mexico, a
point Syrian President Bashar Al-Assad has made on more than
one occasion.
The novel’s storytelling and character construction really
bring out the prophetic political content. In the opening
scene, for example, Brandon Vale, incarcerated jewel thief
extraordinaire, plays poker with an African-American inmate
with an Arab/Muslim name – Kassem – and a tattoo of hooded
KKKman dangling from a hangman’s rope with a broken neck. If
an American can embrace Islam as a protest against racism,
what do you think the reaction of people who already are
Muslims and not Americans is going to be to mistreatment?
There’s a TV set in the room blaring away about the US
fatalities in Iraq and the various terrorist incidents in the
Middle East, something that doesn’t interests Vale in the
slightest, him and most of the inmates who are into life – and
prison – for the money.
Vale is the stereotypical self-absorbed American, which is a
perfect psychological profile for the masterminds who groom
him for a crucial job– rob Las Vegas to buy rogue Ukrainian
nukes off the global market (because Al-Qaeda’s out to get
them). Vale isn’t so much amoral as non-moral; he’s never hurt
anyone, as he repeatedly protests to his captors. He doesn’t
bother with high sounding ideals and political causes, a trait
that distracts most Americans from the immense damage their
government often causes abroad but also exonerates them from
the charge of imperial designs or power lust.
Interestingly, the prison-guard – Daly – who ‘releases’
Brandon for Brandon’s future paymasters, is an envious redneck
figure. He’s the kind who hates slightly better off, educated
whites as much as he hates ‘niggers’. His hatred is misplaced
since he should be joining hands with the likes of Brandon and
Kassem against their common enemy, wealthy white men who see
all those beneath them as scum or stooges. Filling out the
minority quota is Brandon’s immediate superior, the lovely,
partly Latina Catherine ‘Juarez’. Her father was an FBI agent
but she only got a chance to go to college and then into the
national security apparatus thanks to her mentor, Richard
Scanlon, the very man who railroaded Brandon to prison on
trumped up charges so as to use him later for a ‘mission.’
Ironically, robbing Las Vegas was Vale’s original plan.
Scanlon, a former FBI honcho, has gone into the pricier
private sector, providing contract security and intelligence
services for the government.
Scanlon is sort of a fixit man, disillusioned with government
incompetence and corruption in the war on terror and so trying
to do his best to stem this woeful tide from his private
sector perch. Hence, he allies with Hamdi, and is by far the
most complex character here, and most likely the second
horseman of the apocalypse; the one who spreads war and
devastation. He’s half-American, half-Egyptian, a professor
who’s dedicated his life to finding peace in the Middle East
and has had to scratch his way to the top in what his
considers to be the country of ‘the Jew’. Not that he has any
theological quibbles with them. He’s has no religious
convictions whatsoever and plans to do something horrendous to
the Middle East with the 12 warheads the Ukrainian mob are
peddling on the black market.
If anything, he’s the quintessential American taking the
cowboy approach of getting rid of the problem by blowing it
away. I’ll say no more so as not to spoil it for readers. He
is doing this so the US stops having to suffer terror attack
in response to its pro-Israeli position - not that Hamdi likes
the Arabs much either. At least he respects the Israelis for
their efficiency and determination. Hamdi, half-Egyptian, is
probably meant to embody the half-hearted nature of America’s
alliance with Egypt, the main ‘moderate’ Arab state, and how
Egypt still comes out worse in comparison with Israel. And he
also highlights what could happen if this favoritism remains
unchecked: namely, moderates turn into extremists, and for
non-religious, purely political reasons.
There’s a hint of this outcome in the cases of Hamdi’s two
chief Arab-American CIA henchman, Jamal Yusef and Ramez. They
believe in America and want a peaceful solution to Arab
problems but are egged along by anger at the way they are
treated by WASP superiors; namely, people like Paul Lowe, the
CIA director. Lowe’s a Cold War relic, unable, as Mills puts
it , ‘to think outside the box.’ Scanlon belongs to the same
generation but he got out soon enough to realize how
bureaucratically nearsighted the intelligence community is
when combating terrorism. As for the commander in chief,
President Morris, he’s a good man by all counts, what an
American President ‘should’ be – evenhanded – but sadly can’t
really be because political pressures won’t allow it.
As for the criminals, the two Ukrainian mobsters – a brother
team, one former military, the other a career mobster –
represent the neglected threat posed by a former Soviet Union
now that it’s given up on ideology and taken up America’s
brand of unadulterated self-interest. Their calculated
hypocrisy is that they are Jews selling nuclear warheads to an
al-Qaeda splinter cell, even if it means endangering Israel.
Well, the younger one, Pyotr, does take issue, at first,
unlike his hard-nosed elder brother Grigori. As for Vale’s
‘crew’, all military and security types provided by Scanlon,
they’re the ‘honest criminals’, who take some care not to hurt
anyone (as Vale insists) which is a lot more than anyone can
say about the government flunkies they work for.
By the end, Brandon Vale learns to stop feeling guilt for his
lifestyle, given the mountains of dead that always arise when
you work for ‘the good guys.’ He quietly goes back to his life
of crime, after getting paid handsomely and acquiring a new
identity. Catherine Juarez joins him in his new life and, one
suspects, future criminal endeavors. The implication in the
closing scene is that if Americans minded their own business
and stick to their apathetic, non-ideological lifestyle, maybe
the world would be a better place.
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