Dennis Biba

At last someone has got it right: the ‘Dark Middle Ages’ never existed, they are still in the future. What serves us in the present as a projection screen for our modern fears and desires – an age of filth, violence, stupidity and barbarism – is relocated to a planet outside the solar system in the SF novel by the Strugatsky brothers (original title: Трудно быть богом). While the inhabitants of Earth have now left all violence behind them and begun the far-reaching exploration of space, the population of the twin planet is at the technological and moral level of what we imagine the Middle Ages to be from today’s perspective. Among them: Anton, alias Don Rumata, an earth historian knighted for his secret mission: to monitor the development of the local population without interfering with it. Will the dark Middle Ages soon be followed by a glorious Renaissance?

Of course, say Marx and Engels, whose historical materialism was influential for the self-image of the Soviet Union and thus also for the brotherly author duo from Leningrad (now St Petersburg). Historical materialism sees human development as a one-way street, as an anisotropic path, as indicated in the novel’s prologue. Economic conditions determine social progress; with increasing technological development, social upheaval becomes inevitable. While Marx and Engels saw development as proceeding from tribal society through various stages of development to capitalist society and beyond that via socialism to communism, the Strugatsky brothers, who recognise no social progress whatsoever in the Soviet Union of the 1960s, criticise this teleological understanding of history. It is no coincidence that the persecution of intellectuals on the foreign planet is reminiscent of the Stalinist purges, that was ordered by the king’s advisor, Don Reba, in the original version Rebija, whose name is an anagram of the notorious head of the secret service Berija. Just as the Soviet Union did not realise the classless society propagated by communism, but instead became a capitalist state after its inevitable collapse, the SF novel does not adhere to Marx and Engels‘ linear view of history. The old feudal system is replaced by clerical fascism and Anton, the supposedly morally superior inhabitant of the earth, falls back into barbarism. An alternative, but no less frightening solution is found in the 1989 film adaptation of the novel by Peter Fleischmann. Is there any hope at all for a better future?

Science Fiction is probably the most experimental literary genre, not in terms of formal and linguistic gimmicks, but in terms of content in the sense that it deals with scenarios, i.e. fictional situations with an experimental character. The author of the text is often also the experimenter, the characters in the novel the guinea pigs. In Hard to be a god, however, the roles are less clear-cut. Is it the aliens from planet Earth who are conducting an experiment with their twin species or is Anton himself more a participant in the experiment than an observer? Or are even the readers part of an experiment in the end? In any case, the central ethical dilemma of the novel will be familiar to many. Is it ethically justifiable to intervene in the development of a technologically and morally less developed society or do ethics demand a neutral attitude towards other cultures? On the one hand, human rights are an attempt to establish universally valid rules for human coexistence, regardless of their context of origin. Murder, rape and slavery are therefore crimes, regardless of whether they occur in a capitalist state or an ancient urban society. On the other hand, such a view opens the door to colonialism, as opinions differ as to what constitutes a morally superior society.

Finally, there is also the question of the role of the progressive individual in a conservative society. While Anton’s antagonist, Don Reba, is characterised as being above average and thus becomes the personification of the dull grey masses, the novel clearly highlights some particularly courageous and intellectual figures. However, these few progressives are not able to change the course of history for the better or, as in the case of the intellectual Budach, are not even able to imagine a better future. The novel confronts the ethical idealism of the political left with a ruthless realism, even pessimism. A little education is no match for the barbarism of the masses. But it is precisely at this point that the novel makes itself vulnerable to criticism from the Marxist side, because the fictitious twin society on the alien planet, which knows neither solidarity nor a sense of justice, is ultimately just a human projection – that is formed by the experience of its creators.