Fiona Hill, There is nothing for you here, New York: Mariner Books, 2021, 422 pp.

Written by one of America’s top scholars, a specialist in Putin’s Russia and Trump’s advisor on that very topic, this is more than a critique of that presidential term from an insider. It is the memoir of a lifetime through which Fiona Hill traces a relevant link between de-industrialization and populism, between territorial depopulation and ethnocentrism, to point to the causes that raise figures like the former president of the US to the seat of power.

Hill thusly retells a story of industrial and political disenchantment across three nations that defined her life: the Northern town of Bishop Auckland, England, where she grew up, went to school and where her family had lived for generations; the US, the country where she pursued her advanced studies in Harvard, where she has worked, from Harvard to the National Intelligence Council, from the National Security Council of the White House to the Brookings Institute; and Russia, the object of her career, Hill’s main focus of study, whether it touches on European insecurity or the fascination with Putin’s exercise of power over relevant sectors of American society, including Donald Trump, with whom she eventually parted ways.

A seemingly unlikely testimony at first, defined by quest for knowledge, a sense of public duty, patriotism, courage, and dignity.

Nathan Thrall, Um dia na vida de Abed Salama, Lisbon: Zigurate, 2023, 205 pp.

One of the books of the year. Thrall, an American journalist and essayist long established in Israel takes you on a journey of plots and tragedies that help you to a better understanding of the coexistence of Palestinians and Israelis. It is however not a dry, ponderous, academic treatise that reflects little more than the author’s narcissistic self-importance that contributes little to educate you on such a complex subject tied to an ill-fated part of the world. Nathan Thrall’s foremost first virtue, I would say, is the ability to envelop you in the anatomy of a familial tragedy — a Palestinian child dies during a school field trip on an Israeli-controlled road — through the weight that contemporary history exerts over daily affairs in the West Bank, Gaza, and Israel.

The second virtue stems from the story itself, helped along by immersive writing, a keen sense of where to stop, where to have characters cross paths, interweave historical process, a bevy of misfortunes, some subverting expectations, weaving identitarian, political, social, cultural, logistics and familial hurdles which all contribute to heap more and more abuse upon mere Palestinian citizens and depict Israeli cruelty as a chain of conduct, a sort of funnel that barely makes room for dissent or distinctive perception. Differing views do exist, even if radicalism quashes them and therefore prolongs the suffering of some and the isolation of others.

John Vaillant, Fire Weather: A true story from a hotter world, New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2023, 432 pp.

Over the history of mankind fire has been the key partner that shapes civilizations and cultures. However, in an era where climate change intensifies, we’ve witnessed its destructive power on a perhaps unprecedented scale. In 2023, we had the hottest July on record. Ever. Forest fires destroyed a town in Hawaii, and led to evacuations across Canada, Greece, and Thailand.

Through captivating, almost cinematic prose, Canadian journalist John Vaillant deepens interlocking stories of the oil industry, of science, the climate, and the unheard-of devastation caused by modern forest fires. He particularly delves into the May 2016 fire at Fort McMurray, Alberta, the heart of Canada’s oil industry. The disaster turned entire neighbourhoods into firebombs and chased ninety thousand people out of their homes over the course of a single afternoon. Such was the intensity of the fire that it created its own weather system with gale-force winds and electrical discharges.

We can call this a book on the cognitive dissonance on display through talk of climate change, but it also holds up a mirror to the lack of preparation on the part of government, especially emergency services who, when they constantly reassure cities and suburbs, encouraging people to go on about their daily routines carefree and unconcerned, have exhibited inadequate optimism in the face of impending danger. So almost everything remains to be done: from energy transition to discursive calibration, from prevention to zoning. As this matter cuts across geographic borders, only a broader conjugation of efforts can mitigate foreseeable impacts. Another collective failure.