The Prophet Song
We belong to a tradition but tradition is nothing more than what everyone can agree on – the scientists, the teachers, the institutions, if you change ownership of the institutions then you can change ownership of the facts, you can alter the structure of belief, what is agreed upon.
Paul Lynch, "Prophet Song"
Prophet Song
I finished reading Paul Lynch's "Prophet Song" as my last book of 2024. It is the most harrowing story I've read, not just last year but in a long time. It was so unique that I dediced to dedicate my first post on this blog with thoughts it has inspired.
Before I dive into details, let me tell you not to be swayed by reviews claiming this book is hard to read—well, it is; there are no paragraphs at all. This choice only adds to the chaos and horror that unfold over roughly 300 pages. I read it over three days (intermittently, of course) and couldn't put it down, even late at night. This book truly deserves a spot on everyone's reading list.
Prophet Song is a dystopian novel set in Northern Ireland. The country is descending into totalitarianism. The story follows the Stack family, particularly Eilish Stack, a scientist and mother of four, as she struggles to protect her family amid societal collapse. When her husband disappears following encounters with the newly formed secret police, she finds herself trapped in the nightmare reality of a disintegrating nation. The story is presented in an unconventional style, using run-on sentences and omitting paragraph breaks and quotation marks (i.e. you never know when a dialogue starts and ends).
Lynch masterfully immerses readers in the story, skillfully building tension as he ‘boils the frog.’ With every twist, we are encouraged to hope for a different outcome, rooting for the characters to make better choices, despite knowing that reality often dictates otherwise. There were numerous moments when I found myself on the edge of my seat, feeling an overwhelming urge to shout out warnings to save her and her children. Once I finished reading, I knew I would keep this book on my shelf with a note for my sons to read it when they are old enough, and to revisit it once they become parents themselves.
The verse
I began to reflect on why this book resonated with me so deeply. At first, I intuitively thought that the narrative perfectly depicted the horrific realities faced by those who gradually lose their liberties, basic human rights, dignity, and even their lives. "Prophet Song" also provides a well-crafted exploration of why people stay in war-torn areas until it is too late to escape (i.e., why doesn't the frog escape the boiling). However, it wasn't just that. I started considering different perspectives that might have triggered my emotions: that of a father of two, of a Polish citizen, living close to Ukrainians who fled from russian rockets attacking their country, that of a person raised in Germany's multicultural environment. I will attempt to unpack those perspectives below.
While researching "Prophet Song" online, I came across a reference suggesting that Lynch was inspired by the civil war in Syria. As I write this on the last day of 2024, Syria's Assad dictatorship has just been finally overthrown after 54 years. The civil war in Syria has taken an unimaginable toll: 14 years of conflict, and as of this writing, there are over 7 million internally displaced people within Syria and nearly 5 million registered refugees abroad, not to mention the hard-to-count number of actual dead and missing, estimated to be more than 500,000. USAID estimates that nearly 70% of Syria's population requires humanitarian aid.
The Syrian Civil War has had profound global repercussions, especially for Europe. The brutal violence, which displaced millions of Syrians, was the primary driver of the European migrant crisis. This influx of refugees significantly reshaped Europe's political and social landscape: while many Europeans responded with compassion, the crisis also fueled a surge in support for nationalist and anti-immigrant political parties throughout the European Union, altering political discourse and challenging the foundations of European integration.

The Boy Who Never Lived
None of these haunted me as much as the death of Aylan Kurdi, a two-year-old Syrian boy whose body washed ashore in Turkey in 2015. The image of young Aylan became a global emblem of the refugee crisis, forcing a stark confrontation with the suffering caused by the conflict. It continues to haunt me today as I picture my boys running around, smiling, unable to imagine for a moment the daily reality faced by millions of children elsewhere in the world— a reality I never want my sons to envision.
The picture of little Aylan on the Turkish beach initially sparked international outcry and calls for change, Aylan's father, a year after his son's death, lamented that the situation had worsened and that his pleas for action from world leaders seemed unheard.
“At first the world was anxious to help the refugees. But this did not even last a month. In fact the situation got worse. The war has escalated and more people are leaving," he told the BBC. "I hope that all the leaders of the world can try and do good and stop the wars, so that the people can go back to normal life."
Abdullah Kurdi, father of Aylan Kurdi
When I think about this now, a decade later, I can't recall any decisive global response to the refugee crisis or the conflict's root causes. I would even argue that the only reason the Assad regime has fallen is because russia, a major supporter, shifted its focus and resources towards its invasion of Ukraine.
The Battle between the Good and the Evil
On February 24, 2022, russia launched a full-scale invasion of Ukraine, marking a significant turning point in a conflict that began with the russian occupation of Crimea in 2014. This war has become the largest military conflict in Europe since World War II, resulting in a severe humanitarian crisis. Similar to the Syrian civil war, it has not only caused devastating loss of life but also prompted profound geopolitical consequences, albeit in a different manner. The war in Syria seemed distant to many people in the West, but this time, the economic consequences hit closer to home.

The war in Ukraine triggered an unprecedented disruption in global energy markets, with particularly severe consequences for Europe. In the first two weeks after the invasion, energy commodity prices skyrocketed—oil prices jumped by about 40%, coal by 130%, and natural gas by 180%). European households definitely felt the impact of these price increases despite several initiatives at both the EU and national levels to mitigate the situation. For economic, security, and geopolitical reasons, most European nations chose to reduce their dependence on russian gas: no small task, given that russia's share of total EU gas demand averaged over 40% between 2018 and 2021, up from 26% in 2010. By 2023, it accounted for only 8%, and as of January 2025, gas exports to Europe via Ukraine have completely ceased. Many countries began to seek alternative energy sources and accelerate the transition to renewable energy. At the EU level, the European Commission proposed a EUR 210 billion investment program to save energy, generate clean energy, and phase out russian fossil fuel imports.
The disruption in the energy market was just one of several factors causing upheaval. The war posed a significant threat to global food security, as russia and Ukraine are critical players in international agricultural markets. In 2021, they accounted for about 20% of global wheat exports (check out this excellent tool developed by Chatham House to gain a better picture of international goods' flows: https://resourcetrade.earth/). The conflict severely affected production and trade, leading to immediate price spikes and supply shortages.

This particulary affected low-income and food-deficit countries that heavily depend on imports from these two nations. For instance, Lebanon relied on Ukraine for 67% of its wheat imports, while Gambia sourced 84% of its wheat from russia and Ukraine. By 2023, 258 million people faced acute food insecurity, the highest number ever recorded in the Global Report on Food Crises.
The war's economic impact extended far beyond the battlefield. Major disruptive forces collided to create a perfect storm of consequences: energy prices soared, food production faltered, and supply chains crumbled. These new challenges emerged just as the world grappled with the aftermath of COVID-19 and existing supply bottlenecks. The shift in the geopolitical landscape reminded governments of the old Latin phrase: Si vis pacem, para bellum, as they readily announved increased defense spending. The 'peace dividend' that had previously allowed governments to prioritize social programs came to an end.
The outcome? Inflation surged across nations, businesses faced challenges with productivity, and governments struggled to sustain former levels of social support. Unlike previous crises, this one impacted every household—from escalating energy costs to rising food prices, from diminished social services to increased taxes. The era of peacetime prosperity had ended, and its absence was felt by all.
Never Again, Again
The war in Ukraine also had a symbolic meaning for me. My maternal grandmother was born near Lviv in the 1940s before being forcibly relocated to the current Polish-German border after World War II, and parts of my paternal family still reside in Ukraine. When russia invaded in February 2022, I was the father of a three-year-old, and this new perspective completely transformed how I processed the conflict. I found myself constantly wondering: What would I do to protect my family? If I had to fight and died, what memories would I leave for my son? And if my family had to flee while I stayed behind, what would become of us?
These concerns were far from abstract. Living in Warsaw, the war's proximity made these questions painfully real. I found myself making calculations I never thought I would need: How long would russian ballistic missiles take to reach Warsaw? Would we have enough time to escape? I wasn't alone in these thoughts; I knew many C-level business leaders who were mapping out radiation zones in case russia attacked Ukraine's nuclear power plants. Like many others, we kept two tanks of gas ready as part of our emergency evacuation plan.
Yet amid these fears, I witnessed something extraordinary—an unprecedented wave of Polish humanitarian action. Everyone wanted to help. My wife made overnight drives to the border to transport Ukrainian women and children to safety. We sourced essential supplies: food, clothes, even military gear—and organized transports for those in need. Our home became a temporary shelter for several families making their way further west.
One family we hosted left an indelible mark on my memory: a mother with two children, much like our own. Watching them video call their father, who was serving in the Ukrainian military, was heart-wrenching. They weren't just refugees; they were families like mine, torn apart by war.
Just to point out, the situation in Ukraine has been tragic from day one. The statistics are staggering: more than 8 million crossings from Ukraine to Poland were recorded at border crossing points from February 24th until the end of 2022. There are still nearly 7 million recorded Ukrainian refugees worldwide, with close to 1 million in Poland, while almost 4 million individuals were considered internally displaced by the end of 2024. And russia continues to harm the people of Ukraine with an average of 23 missiles launched daily. However, numbers alone cannot fully encompass the human impact. Observing families fleeing from bombs and recognizing the transient nature of our reality compelled me to reassess my own perspective.
Refrain: the power of narratives
If you've stayed with me this far, let me weave these threads together to demonstrate why this matters. While the complexity of international relations defies simple comparisons, certain truths about how we value human suffering have become increasingly apparent.
Framing is crucial. When conflicts are described as "internal matters" instead of "external aggression," they tend to receive less international attention and financial support. For instance, russia's annexation of Crimea in 2014 was labeled as an internal crisis, which led to limited international assistance. In contrast, when russia initiated its full-scale invasion in 2022, the framing as external aggression prompted a significant international response, including substantial aid and coordinated sanctions. It's easier for the international community to take sides when one party is labeled the aggressor and the other the victim (though this is also debatable, considering how many Western companies continue to operate in Russia despite the war's atrocities). The way we frame things influences the scale and type of response. Want another example? Consider the contrasting treatment of Ukrainian and Syrian refugees here, here and here.
Ukrainians benefit from the unprecedented implementation of the Temporary Protection Directive, which allows Ukrainian refugees to reside, seek employment, and attend school in the EU for three years, no official asylum approval necessary. Ukrainians enjoy more lenient entry requirements, refugee reception centers offering essentials, easier travel within the EU, and free public transportation and phone services. They can even enter Slovakia and Poland without papers, countries displaying potent anti-refugee sentiments during the 2015 Syrian refugee crisis. In 2016, Hungarian leader Viktor Orbán described migration as a “poison,” yet he recently exclaimed that Ukrainians are “welcomed by friends in Hungary.” EU nations—even those with notorious anti-migrant sentiments—have opened their arms and borders to Ukrainian refugees with unprecedented generosity.
In contrast, non-Ukrainian refugees have been physically assaulted by Polish and Belarussian patrolmen; left to freeze in the winter; detained in unhygienic camps in Greece; “trapped in limbo” between Poland and Belarus; assaulted with tear gas and water cannons near the Greece-Turkey border; and bombarded with xenophobic and anti-migrant rhetoric, especially in Poland, Hungary, and Slovakia. The EU refused to activate the Temporary Protection Directive in 2015, incentivized other nations to thwart the flow of refugees, and neglected to discipline border patrol agents who violated the rights of asylum seekers. Former German Chancellor Angela Merkel—widely hailed as a champion of refugee rights—funded Turkey’s refugee camps so that President Erdoğan would hinder the passage of refugees into Greece, an EU member. Meanwhile, Poland erected a border fence, started to build a wall, passed legislation to make entry more difficult, and only accepted about 5.7 percent of asylum applications in 2020. As more refugees entered Europe, detention increased, and former European Council President Donald Tusk even called for 18-month detention periods.
Esposito, A. (2022, September 14). The limitations of humanity: Differential refugee treatment in the EU. Harvard International Review.
Economic impact shapes global reaction. As I've mentioned before, Ukraine and russia play important roles in global trade. Syria has not, even back in 2010), just before the war began. At that time, Ukraine's GDP was twice that of Syria's. Today, the Ukrainian economy is estimated to be about 20 times larger. Despite this economic disparity, Ukraine's population is only about 1.5 times larger, with 37 million citizens compared to Syria's 23 million. Does the size and strength of a country's economy determine the quality of life for its citizens? Yes, there is likely a link. Should our treatment of people in distress be influenced by how critical this nation is in the global economic landscape? I believe not.
We don't see it as "our business" until it's too late. The question of external intervention lingers in the background of the entire story of Prophet Song. Who decides that enough is enough, and when do they step in to end the pain and misery of the people? Although the story takes place in Northern Ireland, I couldn't help but wonder: what would have happened if this occurred in Poland? I know it's easy to dismiss now - we are a member of the European Union, an economically significant country, and an ally of the United States. But, dare I say, hell is just around the corner in Ukraine, Belarus, and perhaps soon in Georgia. And maybe even closer than that.
Interlude and a gentle hum of the next song
Completing "Prophet Song" at the end of 2024 felt symbolic once again. The year, significant for global elections, saw voters rejecting incumbent politicians and their parties. Although economic dissatisfaction was a major factor (some of which directly stemmed from the war in Ukraine), with roughly two-thirds of voters unhappy about the current state of their country's economy, polls also indicate a broader disillusionment with democratic politics, and an increased popularity of "strong politicians" - an effect that plays right into the hand of the autocracies of this world.
That might explain why Donald Trump has made such a monumental political comeback last year. Perhaps it’s also why these political leaders are rocking it all over Europe:
Slovak Prime Minister Robert Fico, who claims that Ukraine is not a sovereign country and threatened to cut support for Ukrainian refugees in retaliation for Ukraine stopping gas transits from russia. Fico's government is also known for discriminating against artists and the LGBTQ+ community.
Herbert Kickl, the leader of the FPO, who has received a mandate to attempt to form a government, marking a significant moment as it would be the first administration dominated by the far right since World War II. Under his leadership, the FPO has unveiled its election program titled Fortress Austria, which advocates for the “remigration of uninvited foreigners" in an effort to create a more “homogeneous" nation.
Hungary's Prime Minister Viktor Orbán, who stated in 2022 that Hungarians are not a mixed race and do not wish to become one, also proposed establishing asylum-seeker facilities outside the EU.
Alvise Pérez, leader of the Spanish far-right "Se Acabó la Fiesta" movement, with a million followers on Instagram, who campaigned on an anti-immigration platform, criticizing Spain's immigration policies and expressing a desire to "destroy a 'rotten system".
Alice Weidel and Björn Höcke, prominent figures of Germany's far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) party, which is currently polling second in the upcoming general elections, use Nazi slogans, promote anti-immigration) rhetoric, and even engage in discussions advocating for the deportation of individuals perceived as societal burden).
Nigel Farage, the leader of the right-wing populist party Reform UK, who has recently been campaigning on a strong anti-immigration platform and proposing a 20% national insurance rate for employers who hire foreign workers.
Chorus
This is just Europe I am talking about here. In El Salvador, President Nayib Bukele has been ruling under emergency powers that have suspended essential civil liberties since 2022. These measures empower security forces to arrest individuals without warrants, even children as young as 12, and to conduct mass trials. Bukele’s supporters have removed top judges and filled the judiciary with loyalists, allowing him to bypass a constitutional restriction against serving a second consecutive term—all with overwhelming public backing. According to the President, organized political opposition has been “pulverized.” Defense lawyers, journalists, and NGOs have reported facing intimidation, surveillance, or attacks from the government, causing many to flee the country.
The outcomes of his policies have proven effective. Homicides fell dramatically from 6,656 in 2015 to just 114 in 2024). Bukele has heralded this as a victory against what he calls "an irregular army of 70,000 men." This achievement has fostered significant public support for Bukele, enabling him to consolidate power. His party's supermajority in congress has consistently renewed his emergency powers. For Bukele’s supporters, El Salvador exemplifies how populist authoritarianism can thrive. He retorts to critics: "Everything in life has a cost, and the cost of being labeled authoritarian is too small to bother me." In many respects, he is correct; everything has a cost, and the cost for peace, in this case, was democracy. The real test will be whether this trade-off was worthwhile, but reverting to democracy would be a challenging endeavor.
Anti-democratic movements, which mainstream media have traditionally sidelined, have found powerful amplification through social media platforms (did I mention that Nayib Bukele was previously an advertising professional?). Advanced technologies like generative artificial intelligence and increasingly realistic deepfakes have allowed their messages to spread more efficiently than ever before. The December 2024 Romanian presidential election dramatically illustrated these dangers: the Constitutional Court was forced to annul the results after discovering Russian interference through coordinated TikTok campaigns that boosted an obscure far-right candidate, Georgescu, to an unexpected first-round victory. And this was not an isolated case of foreign interference in the democratic process.
The democratic world faces a critical challenge when Elon Musk, the world's wealthiest individual and owner of X (formerly Twitter), openly endorses far-right parties like Germany's AfD and Britain's Reform UK. His declaration that "Only the AfD can save Germany", along with discussions about potentially funding Reform UK, is particularly troubling in our current geopolitical context.
This comes at a precarious moment when autocratic powers are strengthening their alliances. China, Russia, Iran, and North Korea have intensified their cooperation, with Iran providing drones to Russia, North Korea supplying artillery shells, and China helping rebuild Russia's defense industry. The timing of these endorsements by such an influential figure is especially concerning because democratic societies should seek unity and resilience against authoritarian influences.
Instead, we're witnessing the amplification of voices that could potentially fragment democratic societies from within. When one of the world's most powerful individuals, who controls a major social media platform with over 200 million followers, supports parties that many consider a threat to democratic institutions, it raises serious questions about the future of democratic solidarity in the face of growing autocratic challenges.
This brings me full circle to the quote I used in the beginning of this essay:
We belong to a tradition but tradition is nothing more than what everyone can agree on – the scientists, the teachers, the institutions, if you change ownership of the institutions then you can change ownership of the facts, you can alter the structure of belief, what is agreed upon.
If you say one thing is another thing and you say it enough times, then it must be so, and if you keep saying it over and over people accept it as true – this is an old idea, of course, it really is nothing new, but you’re watching it happen in your own time and not in a book.
Sooner or later, of course, reality reveals itself, he says, you can borrow for a time against reality but reality is always waiting, patiently, silently, to exact a price and level the scales.
Paul Lynch, "Prophet Song"
Coda
History doesn't repeat itself, but it rhymes. We often distance ourselves from authoritarian regimes, viewing them as distant problems beyond our influence. Yet history repeatedly shows us the cost of such detachment. While powerful images like Aylan Kurdi's body on a Turkish beach or the accounts of war crimes in Ukraine briefly shock our consciences, their impact fades too quickly.
It wasn't that long ago that we cried out "Never Again," hoping the atrocities of war would never return to Europe. Yet time and again, war comes back in different shapes and sizes. This is why we need books like Prophet Song — to remind ourselves that the freedoms and rights we enjoy today are not guaranteed forever. Our freedoms, rights, and morals depend on the strength of the foundations we build every day. We must continually reflect on these foundations and the price we are willing to pay to preserve them.
As we move into 2025, let us hold onto hope and strive to protect the values we cherish, if not for us, then for future generations. I hope that in 2025, the world does not grow further apart but comes together and that we learn the lessons from history.