Publisher’s Thoughts:
Reader beware: Kevin D. Williamson—the lively, literary firebrand from National Review who was too hot for The Atlantic to handle—comes to bury democracy, not to praise it. With electrifying honesty and spirit, Williamson takes a flamethrower to mob politics, the “beast with many heads” that haunts social media and what currently passes for real life. It’s destroying our capacity for individualism and dragging us down “the Road to Smurfdom, the place where the deracinated demos of the Twitter age finds itself feeling small and blue.” The Smallest Minority is by no means a memoir, though Williamson does reflect on that “tawdry little episode” with The Atlantic in which he became all-too-intimately acquainted with mob outrage and the forces of tribalism.
Rather, this book is a dizzying tour through a world you’ll be horrified to recognize as your own. With biting appraisals of social media (“an economy of Willy Lomans,” political hustlers (“that certain kind of man or woman…who will kiss the collective ass of the mob”), journalists (“a contemptible union of neediness and arrogance”) and identity politics (“identity is more accessible than policy, which requires effort”), The Smallest Minority is a defiant, funny, and terrifyingly insightful book about what we human beings have done to ourselves.
Staff Thoughts:
In an increasingly fraught world of political hot takes, I am always thrilled when I find a deep thinker who has obviously considered and questioned their beliefs and principles and knows where they stand and why. Kevin D. Williamson is one of those few, and reading his works is always enjoyable for me. The Smallest Minority is no exception.
Williamson does not disappoint in this book. Though it is slightly dated in our fast-moving political world (it came out in 2019), the message within is still relevant. He takes on “cancel culture,” sharing his own cancellation experience and his thoughts on the motivations behind such mob-like behaviors. No one is safe as he takes the worst offenders to task.
Much of the book focuses on streitbare Demokratie, or militant democracy. Williamson examines this concept and ties it to today’s trend of mob politics – on both sides of the aisle. He explores how illiberalism and tribalism are on the rise and what that could mean for the future of America and other countries.
While these are serious and even disturbing topics, Williamson’s wit and humor shine through (especially in his footnotes). He also dives into a fascinating discussion of the role of Brutus, Julius Caesar’s assassin, in culture and the symbolism that accompanies his name and most famous act; and blends the discussion into a larger one of liberty and social order throughout works of literature, including Dante’s Inferno and Milton’s Paradise Lost. Perhaps what stuck with me the most was the meaning and power behind the phrase “non serviam” (I will not serve).
The Smallest Minority is an interesting read for those interested in that intersection of politics, culture, philosophy, and history, especially if they also appreciate some (sometimes dark) humor mixed in. The topics are serious and wide-ranging, but if anything, the book made me want to go and explore more of the works referenced within.
