bout de papier, Vol. 32, No. 2 (2022), pp. 36–37
BY FIONA HILL
HARPER COLLINS
OCTOBER, 2021, 432 pp, $43
ISBN 9780358574316
THE “IMPROBABLE FIONA HILL,” as the author calls herself, emerged into the limelight in the first impeachment trial of former US President Donald Trump in 2019. Previously a respected Russia expert in the think tank circles of Washington, D.C. and a professional staff member of the White House’s National Security Council, she was called to testify about the Trump Administration’s relations with Russia and Ukraine.
Hill gained attention not only for her bird’s eye perspective of Trump’s White House, but also her unlikely personal story. She was born in 1965 in the former coal mining town of Bishop Auckland, County Durham (northeastern England) to a coal miner turned hospital porter and to a nurse, about as far away from the halls of power in the US capital as possible. Amidst her unprivileged background, the industrial decline of the 1980s was woven into her daily experience and the context for her life chances. Indeed, the title of the book refers to blunt advice from her father: she had to get out if she wanted to maximize her potential.
Hill did indeed depart Bishop Auckland physically, although she has retained her distinctive accent and it is clear that she never lost her familial and emotional ties of place. Indeed, these ties constitute the backbone of the book: how forgotten places and people across the United Kingdom and the United States formed the basis for the populism reflected in the election of Trump and the victory of the Brexit side in the UK referendum in 2016.
There is Nothing for You Here, is divided into four parts: “The Coal House,” in which Hill discusses her upbringing; “A Divided House,” detailing her experience in the United States during her studies for her Ph.D. in Russian history at Harvard; “The White House,” covering her service as Senior Director for European and Russian Affairs at the National Security Council; and “Our House” in which she unveils her policy proposals to address persistent underdevelopment and divisions based on class and race.
Many readers will focus their attention on Part III, consistent with the interest that has motivated the publication of a raft of books on the internal machinations of the Trump White House. For her own part, Hill found that, despite her professional expertise as a think tank researcher, author of a leading book on Vladimir Putin, and former member of the National Intelligence Council, if she was thought of at all by the President and his advisors, it was merely as a secretary. Hill memorably refers to him calling her “darling” as he tried to summon her attention to revise a press release to be issued following a telephone call with Putin. Ultimately, the title of Chapter 10, “Russia Bitch”, tersely summarizes Hills standing among the political staffers in the White House.
But it is Hill’s broader message about the causes of the rise of populism that also deserves attention. Because of her vantage point of having grown up in a disadvantaged area, and then having studied Russia as its communist system was collapsing, Hill’s personal experiences give her an angle on international relations that is often lost amid seemingly abstract discussions of important but sky-high concepts. Hill deftly traces the deindustrialization of deprived areas of the United Kingdom, and the United States, and Russia, and finds a common thread in Brexit, Donald Trump’s election, and the dominance of Vladimir Putin over Russia’s political and economic system. The forgotten people in these forgotten places provided fertile ground for a populist backlash.
The diagnosis is insightful and the policy prescriptions are highly ambitious. In the case of the United States, Hill notes the galvanizing effect of the September I terrorist attacks in the creation of the Department of Homeland Security and calls for a similar government entity to be established to advance integrated economic development for underprivileged areas. Indeed, reaching back into history, to the end of World War II, she refers to the emerging threat of communism in devastated European countries and the United States’ response through the Marshall Plan. Given current economic dislocation and underdevelopment in the United States, she proposes nothing less than a Marshall Plan for America. This would involve comprehensive investments to improve transportation and Internet linkages for underserviced areas and the expansion of educational opportunities for promising students from less privileged backgrounds. This initiative, in her view, would lay the foundation for complementary efforts from philanthropists and community groups,
creating an “infrastructure of opportunity”
– —a term that is a touchstone of the book. The barriers to such an effort would be formidable. According to the respected Pew Research Institute, Americans’ trust in the federal government to do the right thing just about always or most of the time has declined from 73 percent in 1958, when the question was first asked, to 24 percent when it was posed earlier this year. Surely the Republican Party, which dominates the rural areas of America that would benefit the most from Hill’s proposed scheme, would be vehemently opposed to this “government intervention.” Furthermore, security threats, such as the rise of communism in Europe after World War II and of international terrorism at the beginning of this century, have a unique catalytic effect, sparking transformational government responses, unlike long-term trends such as economic underdevelopment. Why this should be and how it could be changed are separate and important matters. Hill argues that without a comprehensive, government-led approach, transformative change is unlikely to happen. Even so, given the obstacles, perhaps a Plan B of rallying private foundations, philanthropy, and nongovernmental organizations is the best that can be realistically expected, and perhaps policy should focus on encouraging these efforts.
What could Hill’s book mean for Canada? Surely, such a “nice” country as ours does not have the accent or socioeconomic discrimination that blighted Hill’s upbringing and could easily have stymied her opportunities. She briefly touches on Canada, noting that, “In some advanced economic countries, such as Canada, access to health care, as well as good K-12 education is essentially the same no matter where you live. There is not the kind of spatial inequality in the infrastructure of opportunity for Canadians that Americans and Brits have to contend with.”
A closer examination may, however, bring up points of commonality with her three countries of focus. For instance, in the UK, Hill discusses how the triangle of Oxford, Cambridge, and London has come to dominate transportation links and economic development; the prominence of the Toronto-Montreal-Ottawa triangle could be considered something of a parallel in Canada. And Canada has had its share of places and people that have felt forgotten; themes that are interwoven into much of the history of western Canada. Additionally, the rural/urban divide is one that is arguably sharpening. Hill’s conclusion and afterword bring “forgotten places” down to the ground-level, with concrete suggestions about how citizens themselves can contribute to creating the infrastructure of opportunity in their own communities, through activities such as volunteering and mentorship. It may well be a message that Canadian readers wish to consider, and act upon.
Originally published in bout de papier, Vol. 32, No. 2 (2022), pp. 36–37. Read the rest of this issue →
