A Master of Djinn

In another apparent strike against populist politics, the Ifrit King offers an alliance to the djinn, seemingly holding their best interests at heart. However, djinn possess free will as a defining trait, aligning them more with human behavior than angels—true angels—who exist only under the will of God. Nearly all of them bow to the Ifrit King, though the novel remains vague whether they believe the message until they are persuaded otherwise, or if they fear the retribution of the Nine Lords if they refuse. Both reasons, however, mirror human motivation for following populist leaders against their own best interests: either the genuine belief in the leaders’ messages against all evidence, or the realization that all other options are unacceptable and there is truly only one choice for a sound mind. The latter issue is a frequent criticism levied at the American two-party political system, in which two opposing parties really only provide one option for voters of a specific political mindset.

While the scene may evoke challenges to the concept of free will, Clark presents a hopeful message, showing the minority influence of a single old woman managing to sway the entire population of djinn. Quite notably, this influence does not come from Fatma, Siti, or any other major character. Coming from any character who is not full djinn would only perpetuate the manipulation of the magical beings by others, and so only a full djinn can make a genuine plea.

The illusion of the choice offered by the Ifrit King is further revealed by Siti, who joins the old woman in condemning the Nine Lords by comparing their plan with Abigail’s; both want to command the djinn for their own pursuits. She uses rhetoric that further draws connections with US politics; accusing the Nine Lords of destabilizing realms into states of endless war, her wording is similar to the concept of a “Forever War,” a war with no clear conditions for victory and a tendency toward moral grayness. These wars are perpetuated for economic or political benefit of the rulers, which Fatma brings to light by her challenge to the djinn lords. That the Ifrit King responds by laughing at her suggests he views the concept of war in a drastically different way from the others, and that he either cannot see the harm it would cause them or he cannot see past the benefits it would grant to him.

The Nine Lords, against the wishes of the general population of djinn and humans, appear to have achieved what they want. They are impossibly strong, and the threat of the Egyptian military evokes the previous chapter’s fear of a forever war. In spite of no clear condition for making England a world power, Abigail seems to believe she has also succeeded. This may initially cause confusion, but Abigail stands in for real-world Western powers; partially evident due to the return of Kaiser Wilhelm and the other Europeans who likewise wish to help, but comment on the “glorious” war ahead of them.

The 20th century became known for its wars, but the presence of forever wars took off in the 21st century, with invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan of particular importance to American readers. Political rhetoric became blatantly theatrical, racist—especially toward anyone of Middle Eastern descent, the dominant hegemony in A Master of Djinn—and based on clear lies, such as the false claim that Iraq harbored weapons of mass destruction being used to justify the invasion.

This gives readers a clear context for the climax of the book, as they now see Abigail’s plan in its fractured entirety. The recurring theme of illusions and expectations toward this war, which has no clear benefit to anyone. Likewise, 21st-century Western political leaders—which Abigail represents here—relied on a circus of media and racial profiling to lead toward their own ambitions. These often appeared contradictory or obscured from the public. Furthermore, the recurring symbol of clocks, dissolving time and space together, suggests a timeless quality to this sort of manipulation, one that transcends different realities.

An impossible battle to win, Clark does offer a suggestion for hope. Fatma can only end the conflict through the abnegation of power. Though Sulayman is often depicted as wise and good, his ring tempts and corrupts its wearer. Only through the paradox of refusing power does Fatma earn it. Power corrupts, and it can only work for good in the hands of those who resist that corruption.

Though detectives rarely undergo significant character growth as the genre often focuses more on plot than character, this does show a slight variation in her previous behavior; during the raid on the slums, Fatma consented to a show of force over her inner doubts, and even more recently when she allowed Siti to fire her rifle at Abigail. Both instances resulted in failure and a worsening of the situation, and so this final conflict must be done entirely non-violently.

This ending returns the characters to the status quo, with only minor alterations like the advancement of Siti and Fatma’s relationship. Any devotion to the impostor’s cause has been or will be wiped from the slums—a rather optimistic view considering the novel’s social context concerning populist movements—and the remaining Worthington withdraws his presence in Egypt. However, his father had been known as a peace broker, so the removal of his colonizer son could have potential ramifications. Hadia’s quest to save the slums has similarly vague prospects for the future. Likely, with the major conflict of the novel wrapped up, Clark mostly intends for this ending to offer direction for further installments in his Dead Djinn series.