Wintermute, El Salvador, and Finding Purpose in Resistance
Neuromancer, by William Gibson, is considered by many to be a progenitor of the cyberpunk genre. A glimpse into the rain-drenched, neon-buzzing streets of the novel’s setting, Night City, is a glimpse into a world where the excesses of capitalism have infected and stratified society in ways we can hardly imagine. TV-static skies and impossible mansions that parasitically feed on the towns beneath them are what Case, Gibson’s protagonist, has to contend with as he struggles to get by. Over the course of the novel, however, Case finds a way to escape from the monotony and subsistence of his existence by helping an artificial intelligence called Wintermute to break free from its digital imprisonment.
To me, a socialist and lover of science fiction, you could hardly suggest a more interesting concept for a novel. So, over the summer, I decided to give Neuromancer a read. I will spare you my glowing review (not-so-subtle plug: if you do want to know my thoughts on it, my Goodreads username is Leo Berenson) and simply say that a lot of what Gibson wrote deeply resonated with me. What I want to discuss here is one moment that comes near to the very end of the novel. Case is just about to achieve his goal of freeing Wintermute; all he needs is a verbal passkey, which only a recently cryogenically-decanted (long story) wealthy heiress knows. He is begging and pleading with this girl to tell him the code and as he does so his normally stoic nature crumbles for a moment, he is nearly overwhelmed by anger. What he says next stuck with me long after the conclusion of the novel: ‘I got no idea what’ll happen if Wintermute wins, but it’ll change something!’
I imagine this line will bring different associations to mind for each of you reading this.What I do not imagine, however, is that any of you thought of El Salvator. It would certainly be a peculiar thing for you to jump to straight away, but I promise there is a connection between the two that will help to clarify why this line stuck with me as it did.
In the mid-1970s, peasants in El Salvator began fighting against the political and economic systems that had excluded and repressed them for years. Participating in this revolt, however, was a troubling prospect for peasants to consider. The revolt carried a climate of uncertainty and danger, with a substantially high risk guaranteed for all involved. Furthermore, any material gains would be made available to those who did not participate, as well as those who did. By all rational calculations, the option of simply not joining the revolt was tempting.
Did this stop them? No. They fought hard against the brutal state security forces, setting up cooperatives in areas they seized control of as they allied and allying with insurgent guerilla forces across the country. A rebellion ultimately proved to be the right choice, and the peasants enjoyed their victory.
But what exactly convinced them to decide to take up arms in the first place, with so high a risk and so low of a material reward? The answer, argues political scholar Elisabeth Jean Wood, is agency. After conducting interviews with rebels over the course of the 1980s and 90s, Wood discovered that many peasants joined simply to reclaim agency from a nation that seemed dedicated to draining it from them.
After all, for years peasants had so much taken from them by systems designed to enhance the wellbeing of a small elite. They faced crippling inequalities in every aspect of their lives as the state economy sought to smother their dignity and desire for freedom. Eventually, they decided enough was enough, and took up arms as a means of reclaiming agency rather than crumbling under the weight of the cruel and monotonous lifestyle forced upon them.
Sound familiar? It’s here we return to Neuromancer’s Chase and his reason for freeing Wintermute. He, like the rebels in El Salvador, fights for change as a means of reclaiming his agency, showing that even in a stratified and oppressive society he is still a human being with the agency power? ability? desire? to make a difference. He is notis, not just a cog in the a machine. While the rebels of El Salvador had a more tangible knowledge of what their fight for change would bring, both they and Chase felt that the victory almost came more from the fight for change than the change itself.
This is why the line stuck with me. Maybe it doesn’t only have to be the possibility of a better world that gives purpose to those fighting for it; maybe we can find purpose in the fight itself. Imagine how many thousands of people across the US, UK, and the globe toil away, day in and day out, for the sake of the profiteering of a shrinking elite. It wouldn’t be a stretch to imagine that many of these people want a better world, one that is more just and equitable. Unfortunately, the nature of the neoliberal hegemonic order we live under means that often these people are experiencing what Chase and the rebels of El Salvador knew all too well: the gradual erosion of their dignity and agency.
Just think of how successful socialist messaging would be if it that spoke to this feeling, that if it said, ‘We can give you your agency back’ and showed how profoundly gratifying the fight for a socialist future is. With all of those people fighting hand-in-hand for the sake of their dignity and their agency, we might just reach the better world that all of us know is possible.