Political Parties in Naked Lunch

Getting sick of Republican vs. Democrat party politics yet? First-time LitKicks contributor Michael Gurnow’s look at the alternative political universe in a famous experimental novel offers a different kind of perspective. — Levi Asher

Politics are bountiful in American novelist William S. Burroughs’ canon. Whether strictly political or psychological or psychosexual, power struggles between both individuals and groups permeate his work. However, his Naked Lunch is unique for the forthrightness with which the author addresses the political spectrum as a whole. The various institutions found within this surreal work of fiction are symbolic representations (and, intuitively, assessments) of various political ideologies. Yet it is not the affiliation which the author vicariously aligns himself by way of his literary alter ego that the reader finds most revealing, but Burroughs’s implied proposition that all political philosophies except one are fascist in their underlying intent.

Two-thirds of the way through Naked Lunch, Burroughs pauses to formally introduce the three prevailing, warring political factions found within his novel: Liquefactionists, Senders, and Divisionists. All three groups concurrently scheme to obtain absolute control over their shared society. On the Right stand the Liquefactionists, who attempt to garner power by way of eradicating (“liquidating”) everyone who is not a party supporter. The Liquefaction sect is countered by the leftist Senders, whose itinerary is to assume power through telepathy, i.e., brainwashing. In short, Senders set out to eliminate any and all divergent thought. Though no visible violence is enacted, both approaches render the same result: the abolition of incompliant individuals through forced conversion. Finally there are the moderates, the Divisionists. They seek to procure power through sheer numbers, as they are capable of self-division. They hope to ultimately suffocate all non-Divisionists via perpetual replication.

How can any party hope to seize and maintain absolute control of all individual life when each is composed of so many independent members? In respect to the Liquefaction party, “except for one man, [the Liquefactionists are] entirely composed of dupes, it not being clear until the final absorption who is whose dupe …” We can assume the Liquefactionist protocol allows a “Last Man Standing” dictum, which is to be instituted after the world has been purged of all rival party members.

At first it would appear as if the Divisionists need not worry about the threat of intraparty homicide for, once Divisionists blot out their adversaries, “one person in the world [will remain, albeit] with millions of separate bodies.” Unfortunately, the Divisionist’s program is paradoxical, as it requires replicas to alter their appearance lest they visually disclose their schema to the masses. Because of this inherent obstacle, physical disparities (there are no mental differences between Divisionists because they “recharge with the Mother Cell” periodically) automatically generate suspicion in that Divisionists cannot determine who is a copy and who is not. As with the Liquefactionists, this naturally forces a “Better Safe than Sorry” credo inside the group; murdering anyone other than oneself becomes the only way to assure that Divisionism is prevailing.

Senders mentally enslave those unlike themselves. Hence, it is fair to assume that the same member battles will ensue as with the Liquefactionists and the Divisionists, should this party succeed in disposing of competing groups.

It is often stated that mainstream politics differ only in action, not in vision. The three predominate parties found within Naked Lunch reflect this attitude, as the objective for all concerned is the acquisition of total control. However, what is not as apparent is the various coteries’ real world counterparts. What exactly do the Liquefactionists, Senders, and Divisionists symbolize?

Obviously, given the Liquefactionist’s modus operandi of literal physical extermination, the real-world association is all too common and easy to discern. Discerning the other two alliances’ equivalents is a bit more difficult considering that Divisionists and Senders are essentially the same in respect to installation of policy. The two only differ in that the former esteems for control through physical means whereas the latter utilizes mental avenues. Considering that the Divisionist’s goal is absolute control and that its application is physical multiplication, we can presume the syndication intends to distribute its members worldwide, which is the definition and stratagem of imperialism. On the other hand, Senders want each newborn to have a miniature radio receiver surgically implanted at birth. These devices will then be linked to “State-controlled transmitters.”

Thus, Senderism is analogous to state-run socialism whereas Divisionism is comparable to capitalistic, democratic entrepreneurs. The latter is further reinforced by the author’s observation that “only a very few Senders know what they are doing and these top Senders are the most evil and dangerous men in the world.” Hence, as capitalism permits power to be accrued by the few via the financial exploitation of the many, only a handful of Senders are in true control at any one time due to their capacity to manipulate the masses. However, though it is tempting to conjecture that, given the analogy, the Final Sender will be the one who finally acquires control over all other Senders in the same manner that larger corporations slowly monopolize the market (thus not validating that the regime inherently be a democratic one), Senders have limited power for they can never “receive” or “recharge.” Therefore, it is only a matter of time before one Sender remains. This individual will then attain leadership status as the only one the populace will be able to elect by (however ironic given how the person arrived at the political forefront) general, i.e. democratic, will.

The author is not content to merely parody these political doctrines. In the course of his criticism, Burroughs satirizes them before offering a viable solution in the form of a revolutionary faction comprised of what he labels Factualists.

By definition, Factualism cannot be considered a party for its guiding philosophy is that of anarchism. Accordingly, no formal group can exist, yet proponents of the theory’s ideals can. Logistically, Factualists stand in direct opposition to Liquefactionists, Senders, and Divisionists, as anarchism’s underlying principle is the rejection of any and all controlling bodies. Consistent with its thought, Burroughs outlines in a series of singularly-focused bulletins that Factualism does “not reject or deny our protoplasmic core” but “striv[es] at all time[s] to maintain a maximum of flexibility without falling into the morass of liquefaction …”

In other words, Factualists refuse to prohibit the right to liquefaction but denounce the inhibiting tyrannical application of such. Similarly, in respect to Senderism, Factualists concur that, “Emphatically we do not oppose telepathic research. In fact, telepathy properly used and understood could be the ultimate defense against any form of organized coercion or tyranny on the part of pressure groups or individual control addicts. We oppose, as we oppose atomic war, the use of such knowledge to control, coerce, debase, exploit or annihilate the individuality of another living creature. Telepathy is not, by its nature, a one-way process. To attempt to set up a one-way telepathic broadcast must be regarded as an unqualified evil …”

However, though Factualism accepts the precepts upon which Liquefactionism and Senderism are based as legitimate perspectives while inhibiting their authoritarian implementation, it openly rejects Divisionism because an ethnocentric determination must be made via the movement’s protocol of “flooding the planet with ‘desirable replicas.'” The respective bulletin goes on to add that “It is highly doubtful if there are any desirable replicas, such creatures constituting an attempt to circumvent process and change. Even the most intelligent and genetically perfect replicas would in all probability constitute an unspeakable menace to life on this planet …”

What Burroughs ultimately presents in his political allegory is that totalitarianism, socialism, and democracy — though their techniques differ — have fascist consequences should their visions be attained. All three coalitions hope to conclude upon a single identity devoid of choice, option, or thought. Moreover, given the author’s addition that their missions intrinsically necessitate the elimination of all people except one, the various unions’ platforms are also nihilistic.

Fascinatingly, and reflective of how anarchists often come to their political conclusions, Burroughs outlines the problems with the popular administrative ideologies before proposing the only other alternative. In so doing, not only does the author legitimize his argument, but he posits how anarchism can remedy the ethical complications of the opposing parties’ principles. He does so while remaining theoretically consistent as he judiciously highlights exactly which facets of the assorted modes of thought are ethically justifiable and which are not.

Intriguingly, Burroughs vicariously champions anarchism as he mediates the employment of the ideology. Two characters serve as figureheads and advocates of Factualism, William Lee and A. J. The former name, “William Lee,” is the pseudonym under which Burroughs published his first novel, Junky. Lee’s political agenda in Naked Lunch is the eradication of oppression, which is obtainable through the distribution of knowledge. Lee and his associate spend a large portion of Naked Lunch as whistleblowers to the Liquefactionist, Sender, and Divisionist causes. Thus, by alerting others to the ramifications of any of the three ideologies, the duo (and Burroughs himself) are therefore usurping the factions’ suppressive agendas. As such, long before it is confirmed at the close of the novel, the reader realizes that Naked Lunch is a postmodern tale in which the author announces his own political philosophy while explaining how it serves as a “blueprint” for action.

8 Responses

  1. Top notch, Mr. Gurnow!

    I had
    Top notch, Mr. Gurnow!

    I had a basic understanding of Naked Lunch’s political divisions, but you really clarified it for me.

    How synchronous that I just finished reading Cities of the red Night this morning before logging on to Litkicks. Burroughs is one of my all-time favorites.

  2. Nice analysis, although I
    Nice analysis, although I think Gurnow places far to much weight on the political aspect of Naked Lunch.

    The best critical analysis of Burroughs’s work I’ve ever seen is contained in ‘William S. Burroughs’ by Jennie Skerl (Twayne Pub, 1985). She digs right into seemingly impenetrable works like The Soft Machine and illuminates them in clear, non-academic prose.

    It is available on Bookfinder. Essential for any Burroughs fan.

  3. Dan, I agree to some extent,
    Dan, I agree to some extent, in that booksellers seem to rely on the “hook” that Burroughs’ books are apocalyptic visions that satirize all forms of personal and political control. This “hook” gives readers a doorway and somewhat legitimizes all the outlandish cock-warring and underworld rub-outs. Gurnow uses the political parties in Naked Lunch for the thesis of this article, so I wouldn’t say he is putting too much weight on it; he is simply focusing on that aspect as one of many.

  4. Great analysis. Although I
    Great analysis. Although I would’ve gone deeper and compared the controlled parties of the Freemason-Illuminati. More and more information is comming out about them and I’m starting to suspect that Bill knew about them and was working against them in his own way.

    For a historical account of how the Illuminati has been trying to overthrow freedom around the world and in the U.S. check this informative book. http://www.modernhistoryproject.org/mhp/ArticleDisplay.php?Article=FinalWarning

  5. Oh yeah, I read Jennie
    Oh yeah, I read Jennie Skerl’s book on WSB back in college, great book, a tad redundant but clarifies Bill’s ideas and style throughout his work. So far it’s the only book dedicated to a critical analysis of his work that I know of.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

What We're Up To ...

Litkicks will turn 30 years old in the summer of 2024! We can’t believe it ourselves. We don’t run as many blog posts about books and writers as we used to, but founder Marc Eliot Stein aka Levi Asher is busy running two podcasts. Please check out our latest work!