D for dictator, G for gullible

Though the book is not an easy read, it is a virtual toolkit on majoritarian regimes.

Alphabetica by Roy Phoenix is a satire on majoritarianism, drawing inspiration from a typewriter. A city-state on Planet Typewriter, Alphabetica is the homeland of 26 letters divided into two groups, Vowels and Consonants who live in complete peace with Numerals, Punctuations and Signs. But soon, the harmony is shattered as the Vowel Minority comes under attack from the Consonant Majority.

The book revolves around the central character, Consonant ‘Y’ or Ypsi who cannot stop asking ‘why’. If her earlier ‘whys’ suggested inquisitiveness, her recent ones reeked of bitterness, threatening catastrophic consequences for fellow Alphabeticians and their peaceful Planet Typewriter. Her major grouse was about the article ‘an’. Why should a vowel be preceded by ‘an’? Why is it ‘an’ ear, but ‘a’ year? Why this appeasement for Vowels? Why should we not have one nation, one Uniform Civil Code?

Ypsi’s most recent ‘whys’ clearly exposed Alphabetica’s hidden fault lines on majoritarianism. While the Consonants were not only in majority but also the direct descendants of 22 Phoenician Consonants who gave birth to the land called Alphabetica, the Vowels were Greek infiltrators, she believed.

Drawing from the examples of her inspiration, the Great Dictator, Ypsi would soon perfect the art of majoritarian politics with all its intricacies, something that is becoming all too familiar in the world around us.

Divide and rule

Anger, she would learn, was a precious commodity that needed to be preserved for the big battle that lay ahead, even as she would fine-tune her missions to achieve her ends. The first: A ruler must harvest blind devotees. A simple formula to have devotees would be to make them subservient and insecure. In return, she would promise them hollow dreams, knowing fully well that leaders do not have to deliver on promises.

In her quest to usher in majoritarianism, she would soon perfect the art of divide and rule pitting one against the other — a sure recipe for instigating violence by attacking the weakest link and then diminishing sympathy for the opponent. Ypsi would sit back and gloat over how she was ticking off her task list with speed and precision as a little fight provoked by her would break into pandemonium.

Her mantra was: When dealing with the minority, start a blame game; create an impression that the majority is persecuted and deprived because of the minorities; declare the protestors as domestic terrorists; make Consonants aware of the threat of sharing home and hearth with Vowels. To rule a nation, first, disarm its citizens. Create a bogey of external threat to flatten internal democracy. Exterminate the threats.

The Great Dictator’s words, “If one has to live, they will have to kill others,” has a great impact on Ypsi, but she is intelligent enough to understand that everybody should not be exterminated because “today’s foes maybe tomorrow’s friends and today’s friends maybe tomorrow’s foes”.

Though the book does not lend itself to easy and breezy reading, it is a virtual toolkit on how majoritarian regimes take shape and thrive on the gullibility of the people, mainly the devotees of the supreme leader.

But for how long will the persecuted Vowels remain silent? Will they one day strike back with force to make their voices heard or will they follow the path of non-violence? In the world of words, Punctuations and Signs, though not in majority or minority classification, play a crucial role in the formation of sentences. Will they intervene to give a harmonious meaning to each statement?

For how long will we live with fanaticism and intolerance? Will this cancer of authoritarianism end? Will Planet Typewriter gain its lost glory of unity in diversity? Will we allow one character like Ypsi to make a mockery out of our combined intelligence? Will a leader emerge who will be the glue that keeps us together?