Michel Houellebecq
Soumission

Rightly called by Emanuel Carrère, 'Prophetic not because it predicts the future, but because it states a truth about the present.' Baricco wanted to criticize the contents of his work while appreciating its style. Giuseppe Rizzo in the pages of 'Internazionale' described him - without mincing words - as a 'scoundrel'. In my opinion, he has been inappropriately (their visions of things have little in common, and she has been dead for a long time...), compared to Oriana Fallaci. He defined Islam as 'The stupidest religion in the world,' but recently he admitted and clearly conveyed a certain attraction towards religion and the so-called 'reformist Islam.' Charlie Hebdo dedicated the cover to him on the eve of the infamous attack. He describes himself as an irresponsible writer and a conservative concerning politics. He has a radically different critical view of '68 than that generally accepted by intellectuals of his generation; he is considered a nihilist; his models as writers are Dostoevsky and Conrad, but he repeatedly cites authors of 19th-century French literature, of which he is a great connoisseur. So much so that his latest novel, 'Soumission,' is also a real essay on decadence and naturalism, the aestheticism of that historical period, and the figure of the writer Joris-Karl Huysmans. If a vote were held in France to exit the European Union, he would vote 'Yes.'

Michel Houellebecq has been, in recent years and is currently, not only one of the most popular intellectual figures in France, but above all one of the most criticized and discussed. Born Michel Thomas (in one of the French overseas territories), he grew up in Algeria until he was six years old before being somehow abandoned by his parents and raised directly by his grandmother, whose surname he adopted. He was married and has a son, but is separated, which put him through a difficult period of depression. He gained notoriety as a writer, poet, and essayist starting from the 1990s. Many (countless) times contested for decidedly over-the-top public outings, and at the same time considered a writer of stature, he left France a few years ago and now lives in Spain.

'Soumission' (practically 'Submission') is his latest novel published in 2015 and set in a near future which, according to many commentators including authoritative ones (I mentioned Carrère), is somehow already present. We are not exactly talking about a science fiction work nor a dystopian novel. If we can at most use the term 'political fantasy' it's because the facts are necessarily invented, but the premises, the context in which the story is set, and all the protagonist's considerations, to whom we cannot help but correspond the same author, constitute something current. Even immediate, such is the real urgency to debate these themes to understand the world and especially the Europe in which we live.

The story develops on three ideal levels. Firstly, the events of the protagonist, François, who tells the story in the first person, are narrated. He is a university professor, in his forties, let's say attractive, and leads a very ordinary life. Politically, he seems to lean to the left, a social democrat, but he could very well be a conservative (here's a paradox), he is certainly not a radical and is far from the positions of the national front. His passion, where he takes refuge in a life made of sporadic loves and a state of loneliness that I would define as existential, lies in his work and his devotion to 19th-century French literature and poetry, particularly for an author like Joris-Karl Huysmans, a constant reference within his considerations, so much so that the book can easily be considered as a kind of essay on this author. Thirdly, and this is clearly the most discussed aspect and the central one of the work, 'Soumission' is above all an analytical and critical text on the state of things in France and in Europe in general, as well as on what we generally in the West define as 'Moderate Islam' and the role it has on the social and cultural level in our continent.

The events take place on the eve, during, and after the presidential elections in France. A topic that particularly involves the protagonist who appears interested in it in a critical manner and with an attitude that, rather than seeing him take sides one way or the other, makes one think of the great Hunter Thompson in 'Better Than Sex' for the sudden and anomalous enthusiasm for his character (which he himself refuses to admit to accepting) and anyway above the fray in the analysis of the situation and then, because reflecting on the title of Thompson's book, this thing, debating politics and watching the various dailies and talk shows becomes for him a kind of 'addiction,' which is at the same time a way to put aside his discomfort due to a certain forced inactivity on a sexual level and also a release therapy in a phase of complete solitude that, as we will see, constitutes an existential condition of his and by reflection, a conditio sine qua non of the European man.

In 2017, the presidential elections saw Hollande prevail again, but on the eve of the new electoral round, another victory for the left seems unlikely. The country's economic situation is at an all-time low, and violence rages in the streets with more or less daily and sensational acts, indirectly attributable to Islamic extremism or the national front. Most of the country is clearly aligned to the right, but the traditional and conservative right is now a marginal party, while the national front is increasingly gaining consensus and seems destined to play the electoral round with the socialists.

A fourth political force that was born and grew from the bottom has gradually expanded its electoral base and has become one of the main forces in France (as has similarly happened in other European countries, such as Belgium). This is the Muslim Brotherhood party, an Islamic party of moderate orientation and faithful to the French republican system. At its head is the charismatic Mohammed Ben Abbes, who aims not only to win the elections but to become a figure of reference within European equilibria and for the entire Arab world.

Unexpectedly (but not too much), the Muslim Brotherhood gains more and more consensus, and in the elections, it is the first political force along with the national front and, with the support of the socialists, comes to power, starting what will be a true silent revolution.

The first signs are trivial, such as the type of clothing proposed by various boutiques and shopping centers, as well as women's clothing in general. Islamic veils multiply, and skirts disappear: women all wear pants.

What will happen over time will be a radical change that will relaunch a new image of France in the eyes of Europe and the entire world. Ben Abbes is an ambitious leader. He firmly believes in the idea of Europe and in the creation of what in the book is defined as 'Eurabia'. He personally leads the treaties for the entry of Turkey and Morocco into the Union and prepares to do the same with Algeria, Tunisia, and Egypt. In the meantime, France regains the optimism that had been missing since the post-World War II decades. Immediately after the elections, crime and the number of unemployed drop drastically, also due to the mass exit of women from the labor market. Consequently, family benefits increase, defined as the 'basic cell of society,' whose funds practically derive from the drastic decrease in allocations for the Ministry of Public Education. The school system is thus widely reformed, and in practice, the financing of secondary education becomes completely a matter for the private sector. Thus Catholic or Jewish (in part minority) education centers but above all centers of excellence funded by the Islamic petromonarchies.

At the end of a long process of introspection and consideration of the state of things in France and Europe, and faced with what he would consider as the decline of the culture of our continent and his country in particular, François finds himself in front of a real existential crossroads that will concern his conversion to Islam, considered an essential condition for him to continue in university teaching, but above all a contingent choice which he is powerfully called upon by what is the state of affairs and the conclusion that the system in which he had grown up and which had nonetheless made him a marginalized figure of which he had never really felt part, abandoned by his parents and never having been able to establish a stable relationship with any sense with any woman or with what could be considered friends, and therefore without having really anything to believe in; that all this was something that was inevitably collapsing upon itself. A model of society that after having reached its peak on a cultural, literary level at the end of the 19th century, had practically self-destructed long before we consciously realized it.

In his choice, François metaphorically represents the whole of France in all its entirety and completeness of its inhabitants and the different social categories and in which many among the various commentators and the many 'enemies' of the author wanted to see in this passage even the signs of a religious conversion of Houellebecq himself. Something which, to be honest, I do not find at all, but I admit I am not adequately informed from this point of view.

I don't know, honestly, if and how much this is an anti-Islamic text. The feeling is that rather than siding on one side or the other, the author merely limits himself to recounting things in the first person for what they are. In fact, until he is called to conversion, François plays a completely passive role and is almost at the mercy of events in a characterization of the character that might remind one of (staying with the greats of French literature) 'The Stranger' by Albert Camus. Everything that happens to him happens inevitable. François does not make practically any choice until he is called to convert, practically to 'submit' (citing the title of the text) to what is the new social system that is established after the election of Mohammed Ben Abbes and the success of the Islamic fraternity. So can we really speak of 'conversion' in this case? Are there religious contents in this act? François appears to us and defines himself from the beginning as a man resigned to his fate, he chooses to bend and submit to the inevitability of things or actively makes a life choice, as if he wanted to grant himself - in this kind of renewal - a new opportunity?

This is probably the central content of the work, from which a whole series of questions will derive regarding the author's intentions and perspective. Does Houellebecq fear Islam? Does he disdain it? Surely in the past, he did not spare the use of offensive tones and expressions, but this time... This time, in recounting things, he does not appear angry or even offensive, but rather somehow aware and brilliantly analytic and critical of the society in which he lives. 'Soumission' is undoubtedly a brilliant text that I greatly appreciated and that could only have been written in this historical moment by a French author, just as the other novel that caused scandal and clamor in France as in the rest of Europe was written by the Algerian Boualem Sansal, '2084: la fin du monde', which is practically a revision of George Orwell's '1984' in a future that appears in its features and how it is presented, more remote than it is or should be, and in which the story and the facts are told in a narrative style close to a style that has its roots in time and directly references what are the pages of the Quran or the Bible. A text that Houellebecq himself wanted to define as more 'frightening' and sensational than 'Soumission' and which I suggest perhaps reading as a complement to this text if one wants to analyze the issue according to another authoritative literary perspective.

What to add? I had a secular education, and this while growing up in a society still somehow Catholic and being the son of a woman, who works as a teacher, whom I could define as a Catholic-communist, because despite feminism and the sense of belonging and militancy in far-left formations, over time she has never completely managed to free herself from those conditioning and that education made of guilt feelings and a sense of duty that transcends everything (which then, somehow, does not coincide, after all, with the maximalist communist thought, that of the 'faithful to the line'...) that was forcibly imparted to her when she was a child and from which she then wanted to emancipate herself.

Born in the mid-eighties, I witnessed the fall of the Berlin Wall and the end of an era in a way I could call direct given the militancy and active commitment especially of my father in what were extra-parliamentary left political formations. My father, who afterwards did not want to adhere to any other political formation and preferred to consider that historical epoch concluded, even while clearly remaining faithful to his ideals and trying to be coherent in a society and a political world objectively different from that of twenty or thirty years ago. Coming back to me, over time I decided to want to define myself primarily as an 'internationalist.' Personally, I have always believed and supported the idea of a united Europe without barriers, although clearly criticizing the Union in what are its current structures and the inequalities between the different countries that are part of it at all levels. If there were to be an opening to 'Islamic' countries, to mention those cited by Houellebecq, namely Turkey, Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Egypt, I could only consider this positively and a big step forward in achieving a new and better world balance.

I recognize the decline Houellebecq speaks of in many aspects of our society. Jokingly with friends, I say that the last signs of certain cultural vitality in our continent are the Eiffel Tower, built now in the distant 1886-1889 and which I want to still today ideally consider as the symbolic monument of the EU; the Rolling Stones, in the sixties and seventies in particular of the last century.

I acknowledge this 'decay,' yet I do not share this sense of resignation to all the things Houellebecq talks about, nor can I, according to my worldview and things, be afraid of this bogeyman that would be 'moderate Islamism.' Islam, like the Catholic religion, is a reality and is surely destined to grow throughout the European Union, but I am not afraid that a religious orientation of any kind could become predominant and conditioning in the structures of the EU. Just as I don't consider the role of the Catholic religion in our country influential and determining today, as it certainly was somehow in the past and yet without forgetting the particular political history of our country, which is radically different from that of all other Western countries. Moreover. May different cultural orientations and contributions of even different religious beliefs and cultural practices be welcomed. Their influence can only be benevolent when it does not overlook confrontation and - more - meeting, and when then it can truly play an active role in a social structure, Europe, which I deeply agree, needs a shake-up and renewal, but which - without wanting to appear saintly or be considered a fool - I continue to consider also and above all a great opportunity that we cannot miss.

Quotes.

1. For all the years of my sad youth, Huysmans was for me a companion, a faithful friend; I never doubted him, I was never tempted to abandon him or to orient myself towards another subject; then, one afternoon in June 2007, after waiting a long time, after hesitating a bit longer than was acceptable, I defended my doctoral thesis in front of the committee of the University of Paris IV-Sorbonne, 'Joris-Karl Huysmans, or the Exit from the Tunnel.' Already the next morning (or perhaps that very evening, I wouldn't know, the evening of my thesis was solitary and very alcoholic), I understood that a part of my life had just concluded, and it was probably the best one.

It is always so, in our still Western and social-democratic societies, for all those who complete their studies, but most do not realize it or do not do so immediately, hypnotized as they are by the desire for money - or perhaps consumerism, in the case of the most primitive, those who have developed a more violent dependence on certain products (they are a minority, while the majority, more contemplative and more composed, matures a simple fascination for money, this 'tireless Proteus') -, even more hypnotized by the desire to test themselves, to carve out an enviable social position in a world they imagine and hope to be competitive, galvanized as they are by the adoration of changing icons: athletes, fashion or internet portal creators, actors, models.

For various psychological reasons that I neither have the competence nor the desire to analyze, I deviated significantly from this scheme.

2. The fact that political history could play a role in my life continued to bewilder me, and even disgust me a little. I realized, however, and for years now, that the growing, abyssal gap between the population and those who spoke in its name, politicians and journalists, was destined to lead to something chaotic, violent, unpredictable. France, like other Western European countries, had been heading towards civil war for a while; it was evident; but until those last days, I had still nurtured the belief that the great majority of the French remained resigned and apathetic - no doubt because I myself was passably resigned and apathetic. I was wrong.

3. 'His great reference is the Roman Empire - and for him, the European construction is only a means to realize this millenary ambition. The main axis of his foreign policy will be the shifting of the center of gravity of Europe towards the south; there are already some organizations pursuing this objective, for example, the Union for the Mediterranean. The first countries likely to join the European construction will surely be Turkey and Morocco; then Tunisia and Algeria will follow. In the longer term, there is Egypt - it's a tough nut to crack, but it will be crucial. In parallel, one can imagine that European institutions - which are currently anything but democratic - will evolve towards greater recourse to popular consultation. The logical result will be the universal election of a European president. In this context, the integration into Europe of already very popular countries, and with dynamic demography, like Turkey and Egypt, can play a decisive role. Ben Abbes' true ambition, I am convinced, is to become in his lifetime the first elected president of Europe - of an enlarged Europe that would also include the countries of the Mediterranean basin.'

4. Accepting the baklava that Rediger offered me, I thought back to a book I had read a few years earlier, dedicated to the history of brothels. Among the illustrations contained in the volume was the reproduction of a parlor of a Belle Époque Parisian brothel. I had experienced a real shock noticing that some of the sexual specialties offered by Mademoiselle Hortense meant absolutely nothing to me. I absolutely did not understand what 'the journey to the yellow land' could be, nor the 'Russian imperial soap.' In a century, therefore, the memory of certain practices had disappeared from the memory of men - just as certain artisanal knowledge, like that of clog makers or that of bell ringers, disappears. How could one not share then the idea of the decline of Europe?

'That Europe which was the pinnacle of human civilization literally committed suicide in a few decades,' Rudiger resumed sadly; he had not turned on the lights, the living room was illuminated only by the lamp on the desk. 'And then, from one end of Europe to the other here are the anarchist and nihilist movements, the call to violence, the denial of any moral law. Then, after a few years, the end was completed with the unjustifiable madness of the First World War. Freud was not wrong, nor was Thomas Mann: if France and Germany, the two most advanced, most civilized nations in the world, could abandon themselves to that senseless carnage, it meant that Europe was dead.'

5. Like undoubtedly most male readers, I skipped the chapters dedicated to religious duties, the pillars of Islam, and fasting, to go directly to chapter VII: 'Why Polygamy?' The argument, honestly, was original: to realize his sublime designs, Rediger maintained, the Creator of the universe passed, in matters of inanimate cosmos, through the laws of geometry (certainly not Euclidean geometry; nor even commutative geometry; but geometry nonetheless). As far as living beings were concerned, however, the Creator's designs were expressed through natural selection: it was thanks to this that animated creatures reached their maximum beauty, vitality, and strength. And for all living species, of which man was a part, the law was the same: only a few individuals were destined to pass on their seed, and to conceive the new generation on which depended in turn an indefinite number of generations. In the case of mammals, considering the gestation time of females in comparison to the almost unlimited reproduction capacity of males, the selective pressure was first and foremost on the males. The inequality among males - if some were granted the enjoyment of more females, others necessarily had to be deprived of them - should therefore not be considered a perverse effect of polygamy but rather its proper agenda. This was how the destiny of the species was fulfilled.