And the implication is that nothing changes, that in the end your old adversary is going to be the only person who understands you and that maybe you should give up and jump on to the next wave of the future. Except that you cannot. At the end, the hero goes to live in the Ottoman empire and involves himself in the coffee trade assuming that this will just hasten European decline, rather than trigger the Enlightenment.
I worry at this sort of quietism because it implies that we cannot understand what is coming next and that all action is pointless. Which, right now, is not what we need to hear.
And I will never have anything in common with enemies like the Bushites. Or probably even with Blair and his cronies who were, briefly, actually my enemies in the Liberty wars.
And I know that sometimes I have thought otherwise in fiction, but that was fiction and the point about fiction is that you make it up.