The National Museum of the American Indian was the setting for a discussion on “Literature and Power” on Sunday as part of PEN World Voices: the New York Festival of International Literature.

Canadian writer John Ralston Saul began by asking what effect writers have on changing political reality. He said that literature may not effectively solve problems, “but there’s a long track record” of writers attempting to change society for the better. In fighting powerful corruption, authoritarianism, and illegality, writers have faced difficult opposition and risked their lives. Bernard-Henri Levy later said that the first targets in Algeria were writers; in Sarajevo, among the first targets was the library – before violence was turned against the people.

Mr. Saul said writers often take one of three approaches. Some wait for an opportunity to intervene at a key moment by writing and expressing their views. Some – despite feeling that their language would not immediately change the situation – go into exile, thus “providing signposts on the darkling plain.” And some have “attacked the language in place” in cases in which language was in fact an ideology.

Tomas Eloy Martinez mentioned the danger “when power does not read.” Mr. Saul later said many politicians are proud that they don’t read, or hide the fact if they do. Some politicians’ speeches are all drawn from management texts, along with quotations drawn from the Internet, he said.

Oksana Zabuzhko spoke about the recent Orange Revolution in Ukraine. She also discussed modern ills in society, which instills fears and anxieties that make people believe they are not fulfilled until they buy a Ferrari.

Shashi Tharoor asked whether literature could matter in a land of poverty and suffering. He spoke of Rudyard Kipling and E.M. Forster’s accounts of India and said, “Their stories are not my stories.” Mr. Tharoor cited Italo Calvino’s observation that the paradox of the power of literature is that only when persecuted does it shows its true powers.

Francine Prose alluded to concerns such as abridgment of civil liberties at home. Speaking metaphorically, she said she lives in a house in which crime can be committed “and further crimes are being planned.”

She spoke of being in Italy earlier during the Iraq war. Ms. Prose said she had composed an article for an American publication in which she said that Italians’ view of Americans were that one was “basically liked” but an uneasiness pervaded, as though one had a “serial killer in your family.” She was not surprised when the publication contacted her about omitting that sentence; in fact, it did not run the article at all.

Ms. Prose spoke of the relevance of certain classics to today. She said Melville’s “Moby Dick” could help one understand the ship of the American state, with Captain Ahab in search of “the whale as oil.” She said she saw the “The Threepenny Opera” and was amazed at how modern the subject matter was of a show that Hitler shut down. “We’re involved in a plane crash,” she said, invoking another dark metaphor, in which all the passengers are aeronautic engineers saying things like “I don’t like the whistles.”

Ms. Prose said she has been reading history recently: accounts of Hitler, Stalin, and the “dirty war” in Argentina. She was reading them “the way a hypochondriac reads health newsletters.” She said she was looking for warning signs showing what can go wrong. She said in Argentina, the generals perverted the language “the way our government is using the language.”

Mr. Levy invoked the example of French writer Louis-Ferdinand Celine, who collaborated with the Nazis. He said Celine thought of himself as a doctor trying to “cure” the illness of society and impose a remedy.

Mr. Levy said the power of literature was different than the power of writers. He cited Friedrich Schlegel, who at the end of the 18th century tried to assess what the big tendencies were of his epoch: the French Revolution, Goethe’s “Wilhelm Meister” books, and a book by Fichte. If Schlegel were alive today, he asked, could he find a work of literature to cite alongside the fall of communism or the rise of Islamism?

Mr. Levy also said the power of literature is not what it once was, but the power of writers is great when they put their pen on the table and decided to intervene in the world. Andre Malraux was among the few who early on recognized the danger of Hitler; opposing fascism in Spain were Hemingway and Dos Passos; during the Algerian War, Sartre took the risk of being considered a traitor to his own country; Solzhenitsyn was first a lonely voice, dismissed by powerful figures.

“Let’s imagine each” example from the last century, he said – one of tragedy, darkness, and ashes – without its writers intervening.

The power of literature, Mr. Levy said, is a metaphysical one. Writers can change the world, but only at the risk of feeling they do not belong to their society. Single words or sentences even whispered could have a huge importance, “like little bombs, mute bombs, silent bombs.”

Comparisons between Europe and America were discussed. Mr. Levy said that in America there’s the feeling that intellectuals are a specialty, like French champagne. Mr. Saul said in Western democracies, it is often difficult for intellectuals to have a real effect. In a country of 300 million, it seems we have one conversation going on among only 30 million. “30 thousand,” Ms. Prose interjected.

Ms. Prose said authoritarian power figures have never lacked for writers to assist them. “Be careful which writers you listen to,” she said. When a conservative audience member provocatively asked whether the English-speaking world, led by America, were the only intact survivors after European civilization’s death in April 1914, Ms. Zabuzhko replied, “Don’t bury us too fast.”

Finally, Mr. Tharoor quoted Gandhi’s reply when asked what he thought of Western civilization: “I think it would be a good idea,” Gandhi said.