After the Fall: Being American in the World We've Made

by Ben Rhodes

I found myself imagining what it might feel like to be a Uighur, and what their experience might suggest about the future for other Chinese people, and perhaps for ourselves. There are cameras everywhere; some ostentatiously placed, some invisible. They don’t just monitor events; they record your face so as to perfect the facial recognition technologies that make it easier to monitor the population. There are checkpoints everywhere. They don’t just stop and question you; they also record images of your face, car, and license plate. You don’t know what, exactly, will get you sent to a camp. You can arouse suspicion by being idle or switching jobs. You can be interned for showing religious devotion—attending prayers at the mosque, downloading sermons, covering your hair or growing facial hair, adopting a more pious lifestyle (quitting drinking, for instance). You can be questioned for something that your family members do, including those who live abroad. You have to assume your communications are monitored. You don’t know if your phone has been turned into a listening device, your home is surveilled, or your circle of friends is penetrated by informants eager to finger someone as politically questionable, destined for the camps. You can attract attention for knowing too much about what is going on in a place where the authorities only want you to know what they tell you. The curriculum in schools has been changed to sever your children’s bonds to what has been a communal id...