Hope In The Dark: The Untold History of People Power

Solnit argues that the future is dark—as in inscrutable—rather than doomed to be miserable. She draws our attention to the completely unexpected surprises that have occurred in recent history. For example, two decades before Solnit authored this book, in the early 1980s, no-one would have “imagined a world in which the Soviet Union had vanished and the Internet had arrived” (1), or that Nelson Mandela would emerge from prison to become president of South Africa. Events like these prove that change beyond our wildest dreams or imaginings is possible.

The author points out that many who campaign for social change get frustrated and give up when victory isn’t swift. In fact, what yields results is continuous campaigning in the face of victory and loss. Instead of searching for a cause-and-effect view of campaigning, one should imagine it like a continuous “drip of soft water wearing away stone” (3) and accept that results may arrive several decades later. To hope is to make peace with the inevitability of uncertainty and to act anyway. Rather than envisaging a single victory, Solnit imagines an endless struggle against the forces of war, exploitation, and climate destruction that are engulfing the world right now.

Solnit wrote her book at a time of despair for liberals. George W. Bush, a president responsible for both human and environmental destruction, was elected for a second term in 2004. This resulted in a kind of depression or inactivity among liberals, who lost hope that the uncertainty of the future might be an opportunity for good and instead repeated debilitating stories of doom and despair.

While accepting the very real damages that a Bush second term would bring about, Solnit wanted to acknowledge the political progress in other countries, such as Uruguay, which finally had a strong leftist government after years of dictatorship and corruption. Thus, while the right was winning in the US, the left was winning in Uruguay and other South American nations. By remembering that such victories occur at the same time as losses, we have better grounds to be resilient and optimistic, as others model the escape from nightmare regimes. Solnit cites F. Scott Fitzgerald’s idea that one should be able to “hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function” (11). Thus, one can simultaneously acknowledge suffering and act toward a more hopeful future. In her book, Solnit shares stories of small victories because those of disasters are already well documented. She draws attention to how “inside the word emergency is emerge; from emergency new things come forth” (13). While old structures crumble, putting what we love in danger, they also present the possibility for something new.

Solnit posits that the “extraordinary peace activism” (14) that took place in opposition to Bush and Blair’s 2003 war in Iraq bore fruit, even though it didn’t prevent the war. The protesters were often people who never previously engaged in political action, as they made a community that bridged differences in a commitment to peace. This led to a global movement without political leaders and empowered ordinary people. Protesters succeeded in resisting a dichotomy— for example, showing that they opposed the Iraq War without supporting Saddam Hussein. Activists further drew media attention to the gains of war profiteers, whose crimes were brought to light. Moreover, more left-leaning governments were elected in central Europe, and Bush and Blair’s ratings began to plummet.

Solnit writes, “The scale and scope of the global peace movement was grossly underreported” (17). On February 15, 2003, between 12 and 30 million people marched against the war on every continent. Solnit considers this turnout reason enough to be hopeful for the future.

Solnit muses that Bush’s party deploys both false hope and despair. For example, during the War on Terror, Bush perpetrated ideas that the Iraq war would be won and that it was making the world a safer place. He aimed to make people complacent and inactive, “to keep us isolated and at home, seduced into helplessness, just as more direct tyrannies seek to terrify citizens into isolation” (19). Bush made Iraq the object of fear, thus distracting from his own administration’s terrifying program of surveillance (among its other problems).

While those on the right tend to ignore problems like climate change, leftists tend to fixate on world problems to the extent that it leads them into a state of despair and inactivity as they see themselves as doomed to lose.

Solnit argues that despair is less demanding than hope because it envisages a certain outcome and therefore feels safer than hoping for a future that can’t be clearly seen. Leftist despair has many causes, but pessimism and a fixation on crises and negativity are key factors. For some, prophesizing doom becomes a form of self-validation.

Solnit writes, “Activism itself can generate hope because it already constitutes an alternative and turns away from the corruption at center to face the wild possibilities and the heroes at the edges or at your side” (24). To bolster activism, replacing pessimism with joy is highly effective, as it sustains the energies of those engaged in activism.

Solnit uses the metaphor of the world as a theater to argue that powerful officials and politicians occupy center stage and would like us to believe that their version of history is the only story. To believe them would be to ignore the activity and ideas of people in the shadows. Solnit writes, “No matter the details or the outcome, what is onstage is a tragedy, the tragedy of the inequitable distribution of power” (25). Although the actors on center stage are, in a representative democracy, elected to speak on behalf of those in the shadows, they’re often corrupt and influenced by elites, corporate interests, and self-interest.

The most inventive facets of political debate come from the margins, not the center. Because politics spring out of the germination and spread of ideas, street activists have real political power. When hearts and minds change, feats that previously seemed impossible—such as passing laws to ensure marriage equality in a society where for 40 years gay marriage was illegal—become possible. Solnit argues that backlash is often as futile as trying to put a genie back in a bottle.

The central authorities’ fear of the margins causes them to spread stories that keep marginal and activist ideas invisible except when they commit crimes against the status quo, however unjust the accusation. As an activist, Solnit observed that she could bring controversial stories to light by giving them to young, risk-taking journalists before mainstream publications; thus, “stories move in from the shadows to the limelight” rather than vice-versa (33). In the next chapters, Solnit shares shadow-realm stories that ushered in the new millennium.