Alamut by Vladimir Bartol

Although it was first published in Slovenian in 1938, Alamut gained renewed popularity after the September 11 attacks, as its themes felt increasingly relevant to modern terrorism. One of its most widely quoted and defining lines — later inspiring films and video games like Assassin’s Creed — is, “Nothing is an absolute reality; all is permitted.”

Set in 11th-century Persia, Alamut centers on the mountain fortress of the same name and its leader, Hassan-i Sabbah. Through deception, manipulation, and carefully staged illusions, Hassan maintains absolute control over his followers, molding them into fearless assassins who believe their obedience will grant them eternal paradise. Young recruits are drawn into a world where pleasure and terror are tightly intertwined, making it nearly impossible to distinguish truth from illusion. Within the fortress walls, reality itself becomes a weapon.

Inspired by the rise of totalitarian regimes in 1930s Europe, Bartol explores how people can control others through ideology, fear, and deception. The novel demonstrates how some can be driven to commit acts unquestioningly when convinced they serve a higher purpose. While the novel is loosely based on historical events — Hassan-i Sabbah was a real figure, and the fortress truly existed — most of the plot is fictionalized.

The novel does offer glimpses of daily life in Persia, but it doesn’t dive as deeply into worldbuilding as other historical fiction books like Shōgun. Instead, much of the narrative is introspective, exploring the motivations of Hassan and his followers rather than relying on nonstop action. Its length, philosophical depth, and formal language can make the pacing feel slow, but the sense of looming danger creates a tension that stays with the reader — especially since we’ve seen the real-world consequences of such blind faith.

Even nearly a century after it was written, the story still feels relevant. In today’s highly politicized society, with social media echo chambers and constant information bombardment, it reminds us to question belief in any person, group, or ideology. As On Tyranny points out, most people know the end manifestations of authoritarianism — like Nazi Germany — but few study how it creeps in slowly, day by day, through small, almost imperceptible steps.

I enjoyed Alamut; I wouldn’t call it one of my favorites, but its exploration of manipulation is compelling. By showing what can happen when people live in a bubble and accept ideas without question, the novel’s message is clear: expose yourself to different perspectives and be wary of blind belief. Otherwise you might end up accepting something without the full picture, much like in Plato’s Allegory of the Cave. It’s ironic that Iran has banned Alamut over alleged links to terror, when the entire book is a warning against the illusions leaders use to manipulate people into acts of terror. As others like Reading Lolita in Tehran show, books remain one of the best ways to challenge narrow thinking and expand perspective.