Book Review: How to Lose a Country

There are dictators all over the world

Last month I watched Democracy Noir, a documentary about how Viktor Orban rose to power in Hungary which has become an authoritarian state, wiping out press freedom, hobbling the healthcare system, while ingratiating his family's coffers through corruption.

During the Q&A with the director, one audience member suggested people read How to Lose a Country: The 7 Steps from Democracy to Dictatorship by Ece Temelkuran, who talks about what happened in Turkey, led by another dictator, Recep Tayyip Erdogan.

So I found a copy from the public library and just finished reading it.

Temelkuran warns readers of dictatorship signs

The book was published in 2019 and Temelkuran, who is a journalist, recounts many anecdotes that show how Turkey slid into authoritarianism and the public either didn't realise it or they did and were helpless in fighting back. She also talks about Donald Trump and his first term in office.

When I read the book as the US election results were coming in, I couldn't help but think what Temelkuran would have thought of a second Trump presidency.

This is what she wrote in the Guardian newspaper:

Dear American friend,

By the time my letter reaches you, you'll have heard all the clever ways of saying, "We are fucked!" Thousands of soundbites will have told you, "Get up and fight." Others will have shared tips on mourning and healing. The strange thing is that even though you'll be in the same dark circus of emotions, everything you hear from your political side will add to your anger. That is what defeat the second time around does: the shame of losing morphs into self-hatred. You begin to be enraged by your ilk more than the opponent. That is why I am writing directly to you. Because in the coming months, your emotional state will impact domestic and global politics.

In her book, How to Lose a Country, she talks about the various ways in which authoritarianism creeps into a country. There is the weaponisation of words, or claiming them as their own, revisionism of history, creating imaginary enemies, and controlling the media.

Early on in the book she talks about Trump, and how he knew that "the ordinary man still needs a shepherd to lead him to greatness. He knew how diminishing and disappointing it can feel to realise that you are only mediocre, in a world where you have constantly been told that you can be anything you want to be."

He also knew that the call to break the imaginary chains of slavery preventing the real people from reaching greatness would resonate with his supporters, regardless of the fact that it sounded absurd to those who had had the chance to become what they wanted to be. 'It's not you,' he told them. 'It's them who prevent us from being great.' He gave them something solid to hate, and they gave him their votes. And once he started speaking in the name of we -- as has happened many times over the course of history -- they were ready to sacrifice themselves.

Sound familiar?

Temelkuran gives a lot of examples about Erdogan and Turkish politics, but doesn't give much context for readers to better understand what she is trying to convey; she seems to assume the reader is on her side, but without an explanation to an audience outside of Turkey, it's hard to have a deeper understanding of her book.

Nevertheless, some of the examples remind me of Hong Kong, like this passage towards the end of the book.

Ambassadors, parliamentarians, journalists: there are more than 50 of us in total, and we are running from floor to floor in the gigantic Palace of Justice in Istanbul. It is 2010, and this is the new technique of ridiculing the opposition in courtrooms. Whenever there is a political case that is monitored by dissidents, like this one today, we are first told to wait outside a particular courtroom, and then, at the last minute, they change it so that all those attending, many of them middle-aged, have to run to a different floor. And then they do it again, and we run again. Most of the crowd end up gasping for breath, and when we finally find the mystery courtroom it turns out to be the smallest one in the whole building, so even if we squeeze in like sardines, many still end up stranded outside.

She goes on to say:

More often than not, the hearing will be the first time we have seen our imprisoned friend in over a year, for he or she will have been held in a prison cell without a court hearing through all that time. Meanwhile, the prosecutor laughs at the panting observers, and sometimes the judge throws out anyone who takes exception to being the butt of this particular joke in the so-called 'Palace of Justice'.

It's eerie how it's so familiar.

Another refrain is "This is not my country!"

So while I would like to recommend the How to Lose a Country, it's a string of anecdotes that jump around in time and place without much context unless you are familiar with the country or authoritarian leader Temelkuran is talking about.

But in general she warns readers to look out for the signs of their country to see if it is falling into dictatorship and encourages them to fight back, though she admits it can be tiring and demoralising.