When Communism became a force in the political world in the late 19th and early 20th century, the last place people expected it to take hold was in Russia. The tsar ruled his empire with an iron grip and with (at the time) perhaps the most sophisticated secret police network on the planet. The idea that this state could be overthrown by Communists appeared ludicrous.
But it was precisely the overbearing nature of the state that helped to bring about its own downfall. This was it's own Achilles heel, as it brought about an equal and opposite reaction from beneath. All that was needed was the right circumstances. The 1905 revolution, itself brought about in part by the national humiliation of the Russo-Japanese War, was the turning point, followed by Russia's debilitating engagement in the First World War. The instability this caused gave further evidence of the actual fragility of the status quo and encouragement that only another small push would be enough to overthrow the state completely.
This was achieved in February 1917 with the initial liberal Kerensky government, whose own fragility was then ruthlessly exploited by the Bolsheviks in the autumn of the same year. After fighting a civil war to maintain their grip on power, through sheer brutal force of will, the Communists stayed in power for the next seventy years.
The politics of emotion
The rise of Populism in the USA and the UK, so that they now appear as the "standard bearers" of the ideological movement, is perhaps as similar a surprise to the establishment as the victory of Communism was in Russia. Populism was never meant to be able to succeed in Britain and the USA, as the political system meant that marginal and divisive ideologies would always be battling against the well-organised machinery of the establishment. And yet here we are: "Brexit" has utterly transformed British politics as powerfully as Trump has transformed American politics. Whatever happens, politics will remain changed by these two forces for the foreseeable future. Even though Trump may only be president for a few years, his politics and rhetoric will shape ideology and culture in America for years to come; Brexit, by its very nature, will transform Britain for (potentially) decades.
Brexit and Trump are two sides of the same coin: two different faces of Populism. As an ideology, Populism is the politics of emotion, appealing to the lowest common denominator in the electorate. In a different setting, Recep Tayyip Erdogan in Turkey is an earlier exemplar of this, who set the trend and "wrote the playbook" for others to follow. Erdogan and his Islamist agenda have now dominated Turkey for fifteen years, and look to continue to do so for a long time to come. Unlike in Russia, where it was always easy for one man to dominate politics, Turkey's political environment was more well-grounded and relatively pluralistic, if imperfect. It took an inflationary crisis for Erdogan and the Islamist agenda to take control of the democratic machinery, then use emotional rhetoric and authoritarian tactics to keep control of it. In a different setting, we see echoes of the same trend happening with Brexit and Donald Trump.
The financial crisis was the common spark that created the agenda for Brexit and the politics of Trump. In seeking a simple answer to the problems that the lowest rungs of society were struggling with, in Britain the reason given was "Europe", while in America it was "Globalisation". In identifying a complicit establishment that was seen to be working with foreign powers against their own people, we see the common narrative that runs through the rhetoric of Brexit and Donald Trump; the same rhetoric seen in Populism time and time again. This common narrative is the divisive rhetoric that creates "winners" and "losers", "us" and "them": Populism is about the "losers" regaining their self-respect and sense of control, by removing the power of a corrupt establishment. It is by its nature a violent and radical creed.
The violent undercurrent that runs through Populism is why it appears as the ideological kin to Fascism: both share a narrative that divides society, that creates enemies to be hated, that creates a belief that those in power are by their nature corrupt, that creates scapegoats to explain its supporters' difficulties in life, that creates a justification for the use of violence (both rhetorically and physically), and the use of extra-judicial powers. All these themes can be found in the rhetoric of Brexit and Donald Trump. This is what happens when the politics of emotion is unleashed.
"America First"
The politics of Donald Trump are the politics of the ego-driven Populist. Nearly forty years ago, the younger Trump was asked of his interest in politics, and his stated reason for not wanting to get involved was because he thought his ideas were too radical for mainstream opinion. Given what we know now about his politics, we can guess that he understood that he knew his views were those of the extremist (Populist? Fascist?), and that he had no chance of becoming elected on such a platform.
It is clear that those views never changed; he simply discovered a way to get around the barriers to entry for such a platform: by becoming part of the establishment, and taking control of the agenda from the inside.
Both the UK and the USA have notoriously-difficult systems for outside parties to break into, which was why Populism was never really meant to happen there. In the USA, Trump got around that through a combination of strategic planning and fortuitous timing. As with all extremist agendas (be it Communism or Fascism), they can only succeed under a very specific set of circumstances. Trump saw that these were coalescing in his favour as Barack Obama was reaching the end of his second term.
While some of his rhetoric mirrors that of Erdogan in Turkey (and his role models seem to be dictatorial authoritarians), his personal style is more like the bombastic Mussolini (or perhaps more accurately, Trump's Italian near contemporary, Berlusconi). In essence, Trump's "ideology" is simply whatever he happens to think at that moment: as he has few coherent thoughts, he flips from one idea to the next; any inconsistencies pointed out by his critics are then decried as "fake news". In this way, Trump's America (and his vague ideology of "America First") is really a kind of personal rule, a dictatorship of the ego. It is up to those around him to put his chaotic thoughts into some kind of coherent agenda. And as his is a "personal rule" (not unlike England's Charles II), those working under him can be fired at whim, or are forced out if unable to deal with the day-to-day anarchy. This explains the unprecedented rate of attrition among White House staff, as well as the poisonous atmosphere.
As the nature of Trump's Populism is highly-personal, it also follows that his supporters are deeply-loyal towards him, and thus deeply antagonistic towards his critics. This is how Trump has divided America; by dividing friends and families in caustic ways not seen for generations. To his supporters, Trump is a kind of "saviour", speaking a language that relates to them in a way no other politician has before. For this reason, they are forgiving (or even dismissive) of any perceived personal faults, because to them he represents something more than just a man: he represents an idea. Whatever that "idea" is depends on the person, but the necessity to have belief in the idea is more important than questioning the reality that is the man. So to his supporters, Trump is a symbol, a symbol that cannot be seen to be imperfect; for his supporters to accept that Trump could be wrong would mean accepting that they could be wrong.
And here lies the inner pathology of Populism: because Populism appeals to those who are life's "losers" it follows that these people also lack self-esteem; they see Populist rhetoric as making themselves feel better about themselves and boosting their ego. So if Trump succeeds, they feel as though they are succeeding (regardless of the reality); "America First" to them means "Me First". It is when that fragile sense of ego is tested in the real world when the trouble really starts, and when the violent rhetoric becomes something much more dangerous to everyone else.
A divine cause
The "personal rule" in the style of Donald Trump was also attempted in Britain after Theresa May became Prime Minister. As the "Brexit Prime Minister" (or as the Polish government recently called her, "Madame Brexit"), a decision was taken that May's initial personal popularity should be exploited. This resulted in the Conservative government being re-branded as "Theresa May's Team", and by the time of the local elections in 2017 and the snap election soon afterwards, it was all about May and her agenda.
The fact that this then spectacularly backfired during the campaign once it was seen how she lacked any noticeable charisma or strategic thinking showed how this approach only works with the right kind of personality. While Trump's egomania and bombast have been the primary source of Populist rhetoric, in Britain "The Brexit Agenda" was carried forward mostly due to the charisma of Nigel Farage as the iconic leader of UKIP. The fact that, unlike Trump, he remained outside of the conventional party system meant that he was unable to personally take advantage of this when the moment came. In the end, it was May's decision to ape large parts of UKIP policy for the Conservative government that meant she was the main beneficiary. Once the EU referendum was won by the leavers, and therefore that the Conservative government had carried out a key UKIP aim, May's was in the right place at the right time.
But, unlike Trump and Farage, she didn't have the right personality, and this is what has made Brexit much more of an ideology of its own than any one politician's personal crusade. In this way, Brexit has become almost a kind of national religion in Britain, where no one person can claim divine ownership. It is a form of Populism that manifests itself as a transcendental faith, above personality. Whereas Populism in America is deeply-personalised in the ego of Donald Trump, in Britain it is something above personality and a movement in its own right. This is why Brexit cannot be stopped: it has been divined as "the will of the people".
In Britain, Fascist rhetoric is now used routinely in the Brexit-supporting media. While Donald Trump's tweets in support of Britain First demonstrate where his inner loyalties really lie, Theresa May uses the language of the delusional fantasist to describe Britain's future outside the EU, while presiding over a government that is routinely degrading Europeans that live and work here legally. Meanwhile, she makes efforts to befriend "rogue" governments like Poland who are now under sanction from the EU.
Outside of the USA and Britain, the people who support Trump and Brexit are not the friends of democracy. That should tell you all you need to know.
Thursday, December 28, 2017
Sunday, December 17, 2017
Ayn Rand versus Julius Evola: The troubling overlap of Libertarians and Fascism
A couple of weeks ago I wrote a post talking about the influence of Julius Evola on Fascist thought, and his influence on contemporary culture, especially in the lens of the political situation in the UK and the USA.
Sometimes politics brings together strange bedfellows, which is usually due to an unusual or turbulent set of circumstances. In the 20th century, for example, the unlikely (and short-lived) alliance of the Bolsheviks and the Liberals brought down the Tsar's regime in Russia in early 1917, with the Bolsheviks as the ultimate victors through their own "revolution" (more like a coup) in October the same year. By 1932, Germany was in the middle of a political upheaval that saw the Communists and the Nazis in a kind of joint campaign of chaos and terror against the political mainstream in the middle of an economic meltdown, which saw the Nazis as the victors.
The "postwar consensus" that was established following the turbulence of the Second World War lasted for around thirty years, until a combination of economic factors like "stagflation" brought an opportunity for right-wing economic extremists to take control of the situation.
"Strange bedfellows": Libertarians and Conservatives?
The "economic extremists" were Libertarians, whose ideas of a shrunk-back state and a "pure" form of Capitalism with unfettered market forces had been widely espoused by their icon, Ayn Rand.
In Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan, these ideas were being promoted in the UK and USA respectively by two enthusiastic leaders, with the aim of first winning over their own (Conservative and Republican) parties, and then the country.
The ideas of the Libertarians were not popular initially within their own party, as some of their philosophical ideas seemed directly counter to those of traditional conservatives. Firstly, the "postwar consensus" was still considered an established fact not to be challenged, both with the Heath government in the UK and the contemporary Nixon administration in Washington. It was only the discrediting of both these administrations under different circumstances that gave "outsiders" like Thatcher and Reagan a chance of a hearing. By the mid-70s, Thatcher was leader of her party and Reagan was the "poster boy" of the conservative right. Both would soon be leaders of their country, and "de facto" leaders of the Libertarian movement.
Libertarian thought, as espoused by Ayn Rand, is fundamentally against traditional conservative tenets that emphasize the importance of faith, family and country. Rand's sense of Libertarianism is atheistic, materialistic, and individualistic: it sees the world through the eyes of the free-spirited entrepreneur, detached from the fuzzy, old-fashioned values of orthodoxy. Traditional Conservatism is about community, culture and social hierarchy; ideas that would be anathema to an ideological Libertarian. So how did these two sides reach an understanding?
Apart from the changing dynamics of the economy being on the side of the Libertarian narrative, as mentioned above, the "strange bedfellows" of the Libertarian and the Conservative found out that they did have a few things in common, and enough for an understanding of a common goal.
At its core, one of the central tenets of Libertarian thought is that while the state should do as little as possible, it must provide law and order and security. What this means in practice is that it is the defender of property rights, free choice and the rights of people to earn their own money. In other words, the state is in reality the instrument of the wealthy, as the defender of the rights of the status quo. By definition, it will do nothing to change circumstances to benefit those who are doing badly under the current system, as this would, in its eyes, undermine the impartiality of the legal system.
While Libertarian thought is ideologically meritocratic, in practice their absolute adherence to respecting the rights of the status quo mean that they are really defenders of the social hierarchy; the same social hierarchy supported by traditional conservatism. In theory, traditional conservatism is about creating a culture that unfairly protects its interests through a patriarchal system, while Libertarianism is about getting rid of such artificial constructs that prevent a level playing field. In practice, their absolute adherence to the respect of property rights and free choice means that even under any meaningful changes to the system (say, for instance, the abolition of beneficial subsidies), those at the top of the hierarchy would be guaranteed an in-built advantage.
One example would suffice. The existence of private schools gives an in-built advantage to the richest in society to get the highest quality education for their children. While I'm not here to argue exactly one way or the other (although the author has made his view clear before), it's clear that this could never be called a "level playing field" in children's education. On this subject, Ayn Rand was always consistent in being in favour of the right to private schooling as being a) a matter of parental choice, and b) that private education is no guarantee of a child's intelligence or success, so is therefore "fair".
It is easy to point out that while this may be, technically, true, in practice having a private education gives even the most dim-witted child an in-built advantage over any more intelligent, but impoverished, peer. In short, being born into a wealthy family is like playing a computer game called life in the "easy" setting.
As Libertarians are the strongest advocates of not wanting to tell people how to live their lives or what people should do with their money, this allows traditional conservatives a lot of slack, at least on the second point (if not the first).
Social policy is one area of contention between Libertarians and traditionalists (as any momentary look at how David Cameron's ideas on social policy compare to Theresa May's will tell you). But this is a minor issue when looking at the overlap that they share on their mutual economic interests: they both want to get rich and stay rich. And Libertarians showed the traditionally Conservative establishment how it could get even richer.
A marriage of convenience
For the last thirty-five years, Libertarian ideology on both sides of the pond has created a boon for the richest in society, while on the other hand (especially since the financial crisis) created a period of unprecedented uncertainty and hardship for those at the wrong end. The marriage of interests between (Libertarian-supporting) big business and the (traditionally conservative) establishment was thus based on a trade-off: the Libertarian right made the establishment even richer and more empowered, while the establishment turned a blind eye to liberalizing some areas of social and economic policy.
Issues like gay marriage and the relaxing of drug laws caused traditionalists to make a fuss, but these are cosmetic changes that simply reflect social reality. Meanwhile, the state's real changes to society - such as how the establishment now has unparalleled access to an individual's privacy -go unchecked. This may be another part of "marriage of convenience". Traditionalists turn a blind eye to social policy, but gain powers over other issues like state surveillance; Libertarians gain on social policy, but "lose" on issues like state surveillance. Then again, both traditionalists and Libertarians can also see the longer-term benefit to both these policies to their shared agenda: relaxing social policy feeds the illusion that government has become more "liberal", which masks the fact that it has become much more intrusive in other ways. Meanwhile, the gap between the richest and the poorest grows to their mutual advantage.
In this sense, "Conservatism" has always been a tent of varying interests and (sometimes conflicting) ideas. The Libertarians of today share more in common ideologically with the Whigs of yesteryear in the UK and the USA. The politics of Donald Trump and Steve Bannon seem unlikely bedfellows to people like the TEA Party and Evangelical Christians, but their differences seem to have been (temporarily) overcome in the pursuit of power and mutual self-interest. Across in the UK, the same is true with the most zealous supporters of "Hard Brexit": many of them are ardent Libertarians, while others follow an agenda that seems to pursue an nostalgic form of neo-colonialism and nativism. Like the conflict between Bolsheviks and Liberals in 1917 Russia, or the Nazis and the Communists in 1932 Germany, they all see opportunities in the chaos.
While having very separate visions of their own, Fascists and Libertarians are extremists that thrive on seeing opportunism in social collapse. As said earlier, Libertarianism only found a receptive audience in the mainstream right in the 1970s due to specific economic factors; prior to then, it was the obsession of fringe movements and think tanks. And now, in the economic malaise that has struck segments of society since the financial crisis, we have seen Brexit in the UK and Donald Trump in the USA marrying elements of both Libertarian and Fascist thought into an idiosyncratic melange.
Like with traditional conservatism and Libertarianism, the natural links between the latter and Fascism seem tenuous. More seems to contradict them that unite them. But the same could have been said of traditional conservatives in the 1920s in Italy, and those in the 1930s in Germany: they both united behind Fascists due to their mutual self-interest.
Looking at the Fascist thinking of Julius Evola in particular (especially as he has allegedly been a subject of fascination to Steve Bannon), in spite of their many differences, there are still a number shared aspects of thought between the Libertarianism of Ayn Rand and the Fascism of Julius Evola. These include:
Sometimes politics brings together strange bedfellows, which is usually due to an unusual or turbulent set of circumstances. In the 20th century, for example, the unlikely (and short-lived) alliance of the Bolsheviks and the Liberals brought down the Tsar's regime in Russia in early 1917, with the Bolsheviks as the ultimate victors through their own "revolution" (more like a coup) in October the same year. By 1932, Germany was in the middle of a political upheaval that saw the Communists and the Nazis in a kind of joint campaign of chaos and terror against the political mainstream in the middle of an economic meltdown, which saw the Nazis as the victors.
The "postwar consensus" that was established following the turbulence of the Second World War lasted for around thirty years, until a combination of economic factors like "stagflation" brought an opportunity for right-wing economic extremists to take control of the situation.
"Strange bedfellows": Libertarians and Conservatives?
The "economic extremists" were Libertarians, whose ideas of a shrunk-back state and a "pure" form of Capitalism with unfettered market forces had been widely espoused by their icon, Ayn Rand.
In Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan, these ideas were being promoted in the UK and USA respectively by two enthusiastic leaders, with the aim of first winning over their own (Conservative and Republican) parties, and then the country.
The ideas of the Libertarians were not popular initially within their own party, as some of their philosophical ideas seemed directly counter to those of traditional conservatives. Firstly, the "postwar consensus" was still considered an established fact not to be challenged, both with the Heath government in the UK and the contemporary Nixon administration in Washington. It was only the discrediting of both these administrations under different circumstances that gave "outsiders" like Thatcher and Reagan a chance of a hearing. By the mid-70s, Thatcher was leader of her party and Reagan was the "poster boy" of the conservative right. Both would soon be leaders of their country, and "de facto" leaders of the Libertarian movement.
Libertarian thought, as espoused by Ayn Rand, is fundamentally against traditional conservative tenets that emphasize the importance of faith, family and country. Rand's sense of Libertarianism is atheistic, materialistic, and individualistic: it sees the world through the eyes of the free-spirited entrepreneur, detached from the fuzzy, old-fashioned values of orthodoxy. Traditional Conservatism is about community, culture and social hierarchy; ideas that would be anathema to an ideological Libertarian. So how did these two sides reach an understanding?
Apart from the changing dynamics of the economy being on the side of the Libertarian narrative, as mentioned above, the "strange bedfellows" of the Libertarian and the Conservative found out that they did have a few things in common, and enough for an understanding of a common goal.
At its core, one of the central tenets of Libertarian thought is that while the state should do as little as possible, it must provide law and order and security. What this means in practice is that it is the defender of property rights, free choice and the rights of people to earn their own money. In other words, the state is in reality the instrument of the wealthy, as the defender of the rights of the status quo. By definition, it will do nothing to change circumstances to benefit those who are doing badly under the current system, as this would, in its eyes, undermine the impartiality of the legal system.
While Libertarian thought is ideologically meritocratic, in practice their absolute adherence to respecting the rights of the status quo mean that they are really defenders of the social hierarchy; the same social hierarchy supported by traditional conservatism. In theory, traditional conservatism is about creating a culture that unfairly protects its interests through a patriarchal system, while Libertarianism is about getting rid of such artificial constructs that prevent a level playing field. In practice, their absolute adherence to the respect of property rights and free choice means that even under any meaningful changes to the system (say, for instance, the abolition of beneficial subsidies), those at the top of the hierarchy would be guaranteed an in-built advantage.
One example would suffice. The existence of private schools gives an in-built advantage to the richest in society to get the highest quality education for their children. While I'm not here to argue exactly one way or the other (although the author has made his view clear before), it's clear that this could never be called a "level playing field" in children's education. On this subject, Ayn Rand was always consistent in being in favour of the right to private schooling as being a) a matter of parental choice, and b) that private education is no guarantee of a child's intelligence or success, so is therefore "fair".
It is easy to point out that while this may be, technically, true, in practice having a private education gives even the most dim-witted child an in-built advantage over any more intelligent, but impoverished, peer. In short, being born into a wealthy family is like playing a computer game called life in the "easy" setting.
As Libertarians are the strongest advocates of not wanting to tell people how to live their lives or what people should do with their money, this allows traditional conservatives a lot of slack, at least on the second point (if not the first).
Social policy is one area of contention between Libertarians and traditionalists (as any momentary look at how David Cameron's ideas on social policy compare to Theresa May's will tell you). But this is a minor issue when looking at the overlap that they share on their mutual economic interests: they both want to get rich and stay rich. And Libertarians showed the traditionally Conservative establishment how it could get even richer.
A marriage of convenience
For the last thirty-five years, Libertarian ideology on both sides of the pond has created a boon for the richest in society, while on the other hand (especially since the financial crisis) created a period of unprecedented uncertainty and hardship for those at the wrong end. The marriage of interests between (Libertarian-supporting) big business and the (traditionally conservative) establishment was thus based on a trade-off: the Libertarian right made the establishment even richer and more empowered, while the establishment turned a blind eye to liberalizing some areas of social and economic policy.
Issues like gay marriage and the relaxing of drug laws caused traditionalists to make a fuss, but these are cosmetic changes that simply reflect social reality. Meanwhile, the state's real changes to society - such as how the establishment now has unparalleled access to an individual's privacy -go unchecked. This may be another part of "marriage of convenience". Traditionalists turn a blind eye to social policy, but gain powers over other issues like state surveillance; Libertarians gain on social policy, but "lose" on issues like state surveillance. Then again, both traditionalists and Libertarians can also see the longer-term benefit to both these policies to their shared agenda: relaxing social policy feeds the illusion that government has become more "liberal", which masks the fact that it has become much more intrusive in other ways. Meanwhile, the gap between the richest and the poorest grows to their mutual advantage.
In this sense, "Conservatism" has always been a tent of varying interests and (sometimes conflicting) ideas. The Libertarians of today share more in common ideologically with the Whigs of yesteryear in the UK and the USA. The politics of Donald Trump and Steve Bannon seem unlikely bedfellows to people like the TEA Party and Evangelical Christians, but their differences seem to have been (temporarily) overcome in the pursuit of power and mutual self-interest. Across in the UK, the same is true with the most zealous supporters of "Hard Brexit": many of them are ardent Libertarians, while others follow an agenda that seems to pursue an nostalgic form of neo-colonialism and nativism. Like the conflict between Bolsheviks and Liberals in 1917 Russia, or the Nazis and the Communists in 1932 Germany, they all see opportunities in the chaos.
While having very separate visions of their own, Fascists and Libertarians are extremists that thrive on seeing opportunism in social collapse. As said earlier, Libertarianism only found a receptive audience in the mainstream right in the 1970s due to specific economic factors; prior to then, it was the obsession of fringe movements and think tanks. And now, in the economic malaise that has struck segments of society since the financial crisis, we have seen Brexit in the UK and Donald Trump in the USA marrying elements of both Libertarian and Fascist thought into an idiosyncratic melange.
Like with traditional conservatism and Libertarianism, the natural links between the latter and Fascism seem tenuous. More seems to contradict them that unite them. But the same could have been said of traditional conservatives in the 1920s in Italy, and those in the 1930s in Germany: they both united behind Fascists due to their mutual self-interest.
Looking at the Fascist thinking of Julius Evola in particular (especially as he has allegedly been a subject of fascination to Steve Bannon), in spite of their many differences, there are still a number shared aspects of thought between the Libertarianism of Ayn Rand and the Fascism of Julius Evola. These include:
- A hierarchical, Social Darwinian, view of society. Julius Evola's Fascism was one that human society progressed through the strong over the weak, where the poor were seen as the lowest "caste" of society. In this light, democracy was the immoral antithesis to this "natural" order of things, as it gave power to the weak (i.e. the uneducated masses) over the strong (the educated elite). Libertarians are likewise "social Darwinists" at heart, and oppose altruism and government involvement in society; they believe that humans can only progress through self-advancement, and that the poor are therefore to blame for their own circumstances. Rand seemed to have a similarly skeptical - even hostile - view of modern "social democracies", seeing them as being a vehicle of altruistic indulgence, and thus against the rights of the individual and morality of society as a whole. While Rand was a critic of dictatorship as a rule, it is also implied in Libertarian thought that if government exists only to defend the property rights of the rich against the poor, it is also in favour of the elite against the masses. Thus, by definition, Rand was an elitist like Evola, albeit in a different manner. The manner of the method they were advocating may have been different, but the result is essentially the same.
- Ardent anti-Communism. Although Rand was an atheist and an arch Capitalist, and Evola was a neo-pagan and against "materialistic" ideologies like Capitalism and Communism, they both saw Communism as the worst threat to society. Would Rand ever have worked with a Fascist to destroy Communism? Probably not directly, but many of her later acolytes certainly did, especially in places like South and Central America (e.g. Pinochet in Chile, the Contras in Nicaragua). The Cold War saw Libertarians and repressive "neo-Fascist" dictatorships work together to prevent what they saw as "Communism", regardless of what that meant for ethics or the rule of law. And these days, this fear of "Communism" has evolved to an unspoken understanding that seems to operate between these two groups in their battle against "Socialism" in all its forms, regardless of how moderate, from the welfare state to equal rights. In the modern USA, many Republicans acquiesce to the unstable behaviour of Donald Trump out of fear of losing control of Capitol Hill, while in Britain, moderate Conservatives are silenced by extreme Brexiteers, out of fear of the "Socialist" agenda of Jeremy Corbyn.
- Use of violence and oppression to achieve their aims. While Rand saw war as against humanity's self-interest, and Evola was a strong advocate of violence as a means to an end (as well as a natural result of Social Darwinism), both ideologies would be unattainable without violence and oppression being some part of the equation. Both these extreme ideologies can only be achieved in times of social and economic upheaval. Whereas Fascism sees violence as a necessary means to achieve its objective, and Libertarians do not, a Libertarian society (like a Communist society) would only be possible after the previous social structure collapsed, or became discredited. Like with the advocates of "Hard Brexit" in the UK, by implication their objective could only be reached after the previous order had disintegrated completely. Thus, for a Libertarian to achieve his goal, he must be indifferent to the necessary social disorder and chaos as a "means to an end", which puts him in the same moral plane as a Fascist. It is only a question of the means of the chaos. Lastly, a Libertarian's love of "freedom" only extends as far as his ideology is unchallenged; when challenged, a Libertarian will abuse their position of power like any tyrant, twisting the law and corruptly using the state apparatus to achieve their goal, while dishonestly claiming that their opponents threaten "stability" in the same manner.
Put in this light, Libertarians and Fascists could be argued to operate in much the same moral plane, as well as much the same ideological universe; the only difference is how they seek to get there.
Labels:
Ayn Rand,
Brexit,
fascism,
Free Market,
Margaret Thatcher
Monday, December 11, 2017
Conservative ideology and Libertarian philosophy: how indifference kills society
As the well-known phrase goes, evil occurs when good men do nothing.
Put another way, we could also say that bad things happen when the government stops caring.
Reward the rich
The Conservative Party in the UK and the Republican Party in the USA effectively act as legitimised lobbying groups for the richest in society. In the USA, lobbying by corporate interests is in any case perfectly legal, and practises that in many other democratic countries would considered "bribery" are in Washington simply part of the way doing things. In other words, in the USA, and to a lesser extent in the UK, the legislature is designed to be an instrument of most powerful, best-financed, interests.
The USA and the UK have their own idiosyncrasies in how the both "reward the rich". The revelations of the Paradise Papers and the Panama Papers demonstrated how the UK's turn-a-blind-eye attitude to its various tax haven dependent territories means that it is acting as one of the world's largest facilitators of global tax avoidance. These systems are in place because they benefit the rich, who also fund the Conservative Party, and also are represented by MPs in parliament who would themselves use them. The tax system in the UK is one of the most complex and opaque in the world, and through its tax havens being legally "semi-detached" from the UK, it allows those with the means to hide their wealth as well as profit from it.
The fact that London is seen as the primary destination for oligarchs and Arab shiekhs to convert their money into capital assets (i.e. laundering their money into property) is another indication of how the rest of the world perceives the UK as a "rich person's playground". While the perception at home is fed that the UK is the mother of all democracies, the seedy reality is that the UK trades in on its reputation for integrity in order to draw foreign capital, without caring too much where it comes from. This explains why one of Britain's few remaining stable industries is arms manufacturing, and why the government is keen to remain friendly with both Saudi Arabia and Qatar, regardless of the hostility between them.
The USA has its own methods of "rewarding the rich". Apart from its own tax system that, like the UK's, is skewed is their favour, the rich in the USA do not have to worry about funding a large welfare state, unlike in the UK. And the USA has a much more visible and muscular lobbying system than in the UK to further the rich elite's interests. So while the UK still has something of a semblance of a "welfare state" (for the time being), it has other ways of making life easy for the rich, through its toleration of tax avoidance and other methods of "locking out" those lower down in the social hierarchy (see below).
Punish the poor
It has been well documented that the UK (like the USA) has some of the lowest levels of social mobility in the developed world. As mentioned above, the political system is designed to entrench the power of the richer segment of society, because it is they who are chiefly responsible for funding it. But when I say "funding" the system, I'm not talking about taxation; as already said, the tax system is that complex that there are many ways around it. I'm talking about political funding. The problem for everyone else who doesn't have that kind of influence is how to survive when your running full pelt just to prevent yourself falling further behind.
Because the system is designed by those without any experience of poverty (or even just average earnings), they make decisions based on their own prejudices. If I'm rich, it's because I'm intelligent and hard-working, they think to themselves. Therefore, those lower down in society must be there because they're feckless and stupid. This explains why many politicians seem so out of touch with everyday reality: it's because they are out of touch with reality! They simply have no understanding of what circumstances and situations occur when you're at the lowest rungs of society. They have no idea of the stress and psychological toll basic poverty has on people and families, and the many side effects and consequences that occur from that: from alcoholism, drug addiction, physical and sexual abuse, and so on. And that doesn't even cover more "mundane" issues like having trouble paying bills, or skipping meals to pay bills. The end result of all this for many is homelessness, as we can see on our streets.
These things happen in many cases because the people involved are unable to mentally cope with the stresses of living on the poverty line. This is where petty crime comes in, and the UK government's policy to reduce funding for state services for such essentials as policing and prisons means that crime is left to fester like a cancer on society, spreading bit by bit into different aspects of society: increasing numbers violent assaults through drinking, or drug addiction to give just two examples. There are many others I could give. And then there is the effect of reduced funding to UK prisons, where reduced numbers of prison officers is now causing an unprecedented rise in drug use, suicide and violent assault in prisons themselves. This is all the result of a decision by government to choose not to care.
This is all without mentioning the "reforms" that the UK government has been making to welfare, in order to encourage more people into work (this is at a time when the UK already has what most experts would classify as close to "full employment"). These "reforms", on top of the ever-increasing trend of insecure employment, and things like the necessity for food banks, add up to a social model that seems designed to punish the poorest in society for their own misfortune.
An "anti-social" ideology
What guides the thinking of the rich elite in the USA and the UK is the Libertarian belief that government, almost by definition, is a bad thing. Of course, to the rich, government is a "bad thing" because it gets in the way of making money, and often tries to take it away from them. This is why it is necessary for them to get as much influence over government as possible, so that it works in their interest, and not against them.
In the modern era, to publicly espouse such views would be considered amoral (because they are!), so these views must instead be expressed in a way that is meant for the benefit of society as a whole. This is why "trickle-down theory" is so useful for their agenda, and why Ayn Rand was a god-send for their cause. Because Rand gave a moral argument in favour of being selfish, by saying that self-reliance was the highest virtue, it sprouted a renaissance in the form of the "greed is good" mantra. Conversely, helping others (altruism) was seen as the worst evil, as it encouraged people to rely on others. The same view was held by many in the 19th century, when "charity" was then seen as a dangerous idea that would encourage fecklessness and irresponsibility. In the form of the "Tea Party", now transformed into Donald Trump's own brand of populism, we have the same ideology today in the USA, while in the UK, it sits as unofficial government policy, also known as "The Brexit Agenda".
This ideology, now shared implicitly on both sides of the pond, is anti-social in nature, as it is against the interests of society as a whole. While the rich do what they can to avoid paying tax (and thus avoid contributing to social programs), they also do what they can to make poorer people's lives more difficult (for instance, by reducing employee rights and social benefits).
It is therefore the indifference of the richest in society to the lives of the poorest that can sometimes be literally deadly.
Put another way, we could also say that bad things happen when the government stops caring.
Reward the rich
The Conservative Party in the UK and the Republican Party in the USA effectively act as legitimised lobbying groups for the richest in society. In the USA, lobbying by corporate interests is in any case perfectly legal, and practises that in many other democratic countries would considered "bribery" are in Washington simply part of the way doing things. In other words, in the USA, and to a lesser extent in the UK, the legislature is designed to be an instrument of most powerful, best-financed, interests.
The USA and the UK have their own idiosyncrasies in how the both "reward the rich". The revelations of the Paradise Papers and the Panama Papers demonstrated how the UK's turn-a-blind-eye attitude to its various tax haven dependent territories means that it is acting as one of the world's largest facilitators of global tax avoidance. These systems are in place because they benefit the rich, who also fund the Conservative Party, and also are represented by MPs in parliament who would themselves use them. The tax system in the UK is one of the most complex and opaque in the world, and through its tax havens being legally "semi-detached" from the UK, it allows those with the means to hide their wealth as well as profit from it.
The fact that London is seen as the primary destination for oligarchs and Arab shiekhs to convert their money into capital assets (i.e. laundering their money into property) is another indication of how the rest of the world perceives the UK as a "rich person's playground". While the perception at home is fed that the UK is the mother of all democracies, the seedy reality is that the UK trades in on its reputation for integrity in order to draw foreign capital, without caring too much where it comes from. This explains why one of Britain's few remaining stable industries is arms manufacturing, and why the government is keen to remain friendly with both Saudi Arabia and Qatar, regardless of the hostility between them.
The USA has its own methods of "rewarding the rich". Apart from its own tax system that, like the UK's, is skewed is their favour, the rich in the USA do not have to worry about funding a large welfare state, unlike in the UK. And the USA has a much more visible and muscular lobbying system than in the UK to further the rich elite's interests. So while the UK still has something of a semblance of a "welfare state" (for the time being), it has other ways of making life easy for the rich, through its toleration of tax avoidance and other methods of "locking out" those lower down in the social hierarchy (see below).
Punish the poor
It has been well documented that the UK (like the USA) has some of the lowest levels of social mobility in the developed world. As mentioned above, the political system is designed to entrench the power of the richer segment of society, because it is they who are chiefly responsible for funding it. But when I say "funding" the system, I'm not talking about taxation; as already said, the tax system is that complex that there are many ways around it. I'm talking about political funding. The problem for everyone else who doesn't have that kind of influence is how to survive when your running full pelt just to prevent yourself falling further behind.
Because the system is designed by those without any experience of poverty (or even just average earnings), they make decisions based on their own prejudices. If I'm rich, it's because I'm intelligent and hard-working, they think to themselves. Therefore, those lower down in society must be there because they're feckless and stupid. This explains why many politicians seem so out of touch with everyday reality: it's because they are out of touch with reality! They simply have no understanding of what circumstances and situations occur when you're at the lowest rungs of society. They have no idea of the stress and psychological toll basic poverty has on people and families, and the many side effects and consequences that occur from that: from alcoholism, drug addiction, physical and sexual abuse, and so on. And that doesn't even cover more "mundane" issues like having trouble paying bills, or skipping meals to pay bills. The end result of all this for many is homelessness, as we can see on our streets.
These things happen in many cases because the people involved are unable to mentally cope with the stresses of living on the poverty line. This is where petty crime comes in, and the UK government's policy to reduce funding for state services for such essentials as policing and prisons means that crime is left to fester like a cancer on society, spreading bit by bit into different aspects of society: increasing numbers violent assaults through drinking, or drug addiction to give just two examples. There are many others I could give. And then there is the effect of reduced funding to UK prisons, where reduced numbers of prison officers is now causing an unprecedented rise in drug use, suicide and violent assault in prisons themselves. This is all the result of a decision by government to choose not to care.
This is all without mentioning the "reforms" that the UK government has been making to welfare, in order to encourage more people into work (this is at a time when the UK already has what most experts would classify as close to "full employment"). These "reforms", on top of the ever-increasing trend of insecure employment, and things like the necessity for food banks, add up to a social model that seems designed to punish the poorest in society for their own misfortune.
An "anti-social" ideology
What guides the thinking of the rich elite in the USA and the UK is the Libertarian belief that government, almost by definition, is a bad thing. Of course, to the rich, government is a "bad thing" because it gets in the way of making money, and often tries to take it away from them. This is why it is necessary for them to get as much influence over government as possible, so that it works in their interest, and not against them.
In the modern era, to publicly espouse such views would be considered amoral (because they are!), so these views must instead be expressed in a way that is meant for the benefit of society as a whole. This is why "trickle-down theory" is so useful for their agenda, and why Ayn Rand was a god-send for their cause. Because Rand gave a moral argument in favour of being selfish, by saying that self-reliance was the highest virtue, it sprouted a renaissance in the form of the "greed is good" mantra. Conversely, helping others (altruism) was seen as the worst evil, as it encouraged people to rely on others. The same view was held by many in the 19th century, when "charity" was then seen as a dangerous idea that would encourage fecklessness and irresponsibility. In the form of the "Tea Party", now transformed into Donald Trump's own brand of populism, we have the same ideology today in the USA, while in the UK, it sits as unofficial government policy, also known as "The Brexit Agenda".
This ideology, now shared implicitly on both sides of the pond, is anti-social in nature, as it is against the interests of society as a whole. While the rich do what they can to avoid paying tax (and thus avoid contributing to social programs), they also do what they can to make poorer people's lives more difficult (for instance, by reducing employee rights and social benefits).
It is therefore the indifference of the richest in society to the lives of the poorest that can sometimes be literally deadly.
Saturday, December 2, 2017
Brexit, British identity, esoteric Fascism and Julius Evola
Walking in Carlisle recently, I came across this image on a wall.
Unable to get the image of this stark, black-and-white Union Jack from my mind, it got me thinking about the nature of identity and symbolism.
The "Union Jack" is a trinity of three flags: the three crosses of England, Scotland and Ireland. When its symbolism is reduced to its core essence, however, it can be easily manipulated into something else once taken from its flag. The image of black-on-white intersecting crosses begins to bear a strong resemblance to something much more primal and paganistic: the eight-pointed star.
The eight-pointed star has several meanings in different cultures and religions. The increase in violent far-right activity in Britain since the EU referendum has been well-noticed by the media, and one aspect of this is the use of symbolism by some of these groups. For these far-right groups, symbolism is an integral part of their sense of identity. The symbolism of the Union Jack is in its unique identity, and the cultural history that the far-right attach to that. Then, if reduced to its core (as above) it can be seen to represent the eight-pointed star. In far-right esoteric symbolism, the eight-pointed star is also a symbol of chaos, and chaos is an integral aspect to Fascist thought. We'll look at why that is a little later.
Earlier in the year, the New York Times wrote a piece on Steve Bannon's apparent interest in the thoughts of Julius Evola, a one-time Fascist thinker who later became an icon for post-war Fascist thought.
Evola's inspiration came from the Roman Empire, in the pure idea of Fascist renaissance. In his eyes, society had become decadent and corrupted by the changes to society like materialism and democracy. He was also an esoteric pagan. He was a anti-Semite who saw Jewish infiltration of European society going as far back as the foundation of Christianity, whose values of egalitarianism, forgiveness and charity were anathema to the hierarchical, pagan traditions of Rome. For Evola, Christianity was thus a "soft" faith: a religion of slaves that, to a pagan Fascist like him could even be seen as "Feminist", in for example in having the Virgin Mary as one if its key figures.
Hard though may be to understand now, early Christianity was a radical creed that accepted all regardless of background. As Evola saw it, this represented a deeper esoteric battle of ideas: of hierarchical paganism versus egalitarian monotheism.
It was this growth of egalitarianism through Christianity (with its roots in Judaism) which Evola argued was what led to Rome's collapse, and mankind's slow deterioration to materialistic pursuits like banking and capitalism. The spread of democracy was thus the "final insult" to his extreme ideology of Fascist elitism, where he saw power had been gradually passing down the hierarchy from the elite to the uneducated masses. To him, Fascism was therefore the way to rectify this and restore society from decadent, egalitarian materialism to a hierarchical, pagan elitism that strove for spiritual values. The seemingly contradictory belief that the Jews were responsible for both Capitalism and Communism was thus explained as being a consequence of following the Jewish materialist conspiracy; thus the way to remove Jewish influence was to abandon the pursuit of "materialistic" Capitalism or Communism.
Evola's elitism was further inspired by the Indian caste system, whose polytheistic culture he saw as a parallel in some ways to the society that existed in the Rome of the pagan gods. Their belief in their "Aryan" origins explains the fascination that many Fascists had with India, as well as a underlying fascination with paganism. Evola admired many aspects of German culture as he respected how the ancient German tribes initially fought against Rome before finally being accepted as part of it. The ancient Germans were pagans, as were the Roman. The same was also true of the Celts, whom the Romans had had long experience of, from the Gauls to the various tribes of Britain. It was the war-like paganism that these three (Romans, Germans, Celts) shared that was what Evola saw as making them racial kin and thus more spiritually-pure, and therefore "superior".
In a different way, Hitler's respect for England came from this kind of racial-spiritual prejudice. For Hitler, England was a "brother" of the German Reich. His respect for English culture came from what he saw as some elements of "shared history" in how both the Germans and Anglo-Saxons had carved out their own territory in the past. As the ancient Germans had carved out territory on the eastern Baltic ("Prussia") eight hundred years ago by defeating and subduing the native pagan tribes, the Anglo-Saxons had even earlier created their own domain by defeating and subduing the Celtic pagan tribes of Britain. Similarly, in Hitler's eyes, the English had proven their greater destiny by creating an empire of their own across the world, including (most symbolically) India. In this way, in the English controlling the Indian subcontinent - the ancient homeland of the Aryans - they had proven to the rest of the world that they were an "Aryan master-race". This explains why Hitler's favourite film was "Lives Of A Bengal Lancer", about an example of military exploits during Britain's long occupation of the subcontinent. Thus also explains why Hitler felt somehow "betrayed" by Britain's declaration of war on Germany. Like Kaiser Wilhelm II, he grew to both love and hate England; his pursuit to defeat Britain came more from the narcissistic rage felt by a spurned suitor than on any real ideological grounds.
This explains how some of the English far-right see themselves as some kind of "chosen people", whose former empire was given away after the Second World War. The Fascist thinking of Evola lends itself to believing that modern democracy is somehow softening society, and "European values" are destroying native culture. Similarly, Hitler's own romantic view of the English adds to the mystique of the lost days of Empire as well as the "origin myth" of how the Anglo-Saxon tribes were a noble warrior caste in search of a new land to colonise - their own Arcadia, which they later on created in North America. Building on from the "shared heritage" of the ancient Germans, Romans and Celts, the more esoteric-minded of the English far-right might therefore see the "British Empire" as some kind of pinnacle of cultural Teutonic-Celtic symbiosis.
Meanwhile, those who support "White Power" in the USA, likewise see the USA's destiny not as a melting pot of races, but as the "successor" to the legacy of Britain's imperial power projection - their own perversion of the idea of an "Aryan" English-speaking super-state. From its origins as the Thirteen Colonies, the USA eventually superseded its British "parent", and those "White Power" fanatics that now cheer on Donald Trump's slogan of "Make America Great Again", feel in their heart that it is about "Making America White Again". The cultural bonds that tie "White Power" in America and the culture war behind "Brexit" are strong.
Although Fascism is a deeply-hierarchical ideology, thinkers like Evola also saw that violence was the only means to bring about change. As mentioned earlier, the eight-pointed star is also a symbol of chaos, and Fascism in the modern world could only come about through means of chaos. As it is by definition an extreme ideology, extreme ideas could only be considered applicable in extreme times (i.e. in times of great upheaval). For this reason, as well as Fascists idolizing violence as a means to demonstrate power and chauvinistic virility, they are also the means they use to bring about the chaos necessary to enact their agenda.
Extreme agendas can only be exacted in extreme times: the same is also true of the radical agenda hidden within those who advocate for a "Hard Brexit". In the chaos that could easily follow such an unprecedented series of events, who knows what kind of state Britain would be in. The "millenarian" belief of change only being possible through some kind of turbulent "conflagration" is something that many Fascists believed in passionately. This also seems to be shared by some people in government.
And, one can imagine, the guy who drew this image in Carlisle.
Unable to get the image of this stark, black-and-white Union Jack from my mind, it got me thinking about the nature of identity and symbolism.
The "Union Jack" is a trinity of three flags: the three crosses of England, Scotland and Ireland. When its symbolism is reduced to its core essence, however, it can be easily manipulated into something else once taken from its flag. The image of black-on-white intersecting crosses begins to bear a strong resemblance to something much more primal and paganistic: the eight-pointed star.
The eight-pointed star has several meanings in different cultures and religions. The increase in violent far-right activity in Britain since the EU referendum has been well-noticed by the media, and one aspect of this is the use of symbolism by some of these groups. For these far-right groups, symbolism is an integral part of their sense of identity. The symbolism of the Union Jack is in its unique identity, and the cultural history that the far-right attach to that. Then, if reduced to its core (as above) it can be seen to represent the eight-pointed star. In far-right esoteric symbolism, the eight-pointed star is also a symbol of chaos, and chaos is an integral aspect to Fascist thought. We'll look at why that is a little later.
Earlier in the year, the New York Times wrote a piece on Steve Bannon's apparent interest in the thoughts of Julius Evola, a one-time Fascist thinker who later became an icon for post-war Fascist thought.
Evola's inspiration came from the Roman Empire, in the pure idea of Fascist renaissance. In his eyes, society had become decadent and corrupted by the changes to society like materialism and democracy. He was also an esoteric pagan. He was a anti-Semite who saw Jewish infiltration of European society going as far back as the foundation of Christianity, whose values of egalitarianism, forgiveness and charity were anathema to the hierarchical, pagan traditions of Rome. For Evola, Christianity was thus a "soft" faith: a religion of slaves that, to a pagan Fascist like him could even be seen as "Feminist", in for example in having the Virgin Mary as one if its key figures.
Hard though may be to understand now, early Christianity was a radical creed that accepted all regardless of background. As Evola saw it, this represented a deeper esoteric battle of ideas: of hierarchical paganism versus egalitarian monotheism.
It was this growth of egalitarianism through Christianity (with its roots in Judaism) which Evola argued was what led to Rome's collapse, and mankind's slow deterioration to materialistic pursuits like banking and capitalism. The spread of democracy was thus the "final insult" to his extreme ideology of Fascist elitism, where he saw power had been gradually passing down the hierarchy from the elite to the uneducated masses. To him, Fascism was therefore the way to rectify this and restore society from decadent, egalitarian materialism to a hierarchical, pagan elitism that strove for spiritual values. The seemingly contradictory belief that the Jews were responsible for both Capitalism and Communism was thus explained as being a consequence of following the Jewish materialist conspiracy; thus the way to remove Jewish influence was to abandon the pursuit of "materialistic" Capitalism or Communism.
Evola's elitism was further inspired by the Indian caste system, whose polytheistic culture he saw as a parallel in some ways to the society that existed in the Rome of the pagan gods. Their belief in their "Aryan" origins explains the fascination that many Fascists had with India, as well as a underlying fascination with paganism. Evola admired many aspects of German culture as he respected how the ancient German tribes initially fought against Rome before finally being accepted as part of it. The ancient Germans were pagans, as were the Roman. The same was also true of the Celts, whom the Romans had had long experience of, from the Gauls to the various tribes of Britain. It was the war-like paganism that these three (Romans, Germans, Celts) shared that was what Evola saw as making them racial kin and thus more spiritually-pure, and therefore "superior".
In a different way, Hitler's respect for England came from this kind of racial-spiritual prejudice. For Hitler, England was a "brother" of the German Reich. His respect for English culture came from what he saw as some elements of "shared history" in how both the Germans and Anglo-Saxons had carved out their own territory in the past. As the ancient Germans had carved out territory on the eastern Baltic ("Prussia") eight hundred years ago by defeating and subduing the native pagan tribes, the Anglo-Saxons had even earlier created their own domain by defeating and subduing the Celtic pagan tribes of Britain. Similarly, in Hitler's eyes, the English had proven their greater destiny by creating an empire of their own across the world, including (most symbolically) India. In this way, in the English controlling the Indian subcontinent - the ancient homeland of the Aryans - they had proven to the rest of the world that they were an "Aryan master-race". This explains why Hitler's favourite film was "Lives Of A Bengal Lancer", about an example of military exploits during Britain's long occupation of the subcontinent. Thus also explains why Hitler felt somehow "betrayed" by Britain's declaration of war on Germany. Like Kaiser Wilhelm II, he grew to both love and hate England; his pursuit to defeat Britain came more from the narcissistic rage felt by a spurned suitor than on any real ideological grounds.
This explains how some of the English far-right see themselves as some kind of "chosen people", whose former empire was given away after the Second World War. The Fascist thinking of Evola lends itself to believing that modern democracy is somehow softening society, and "European values" are destroying native culture. Similarly, Hitler's own romantic view of the English adds to the mystique of the lost days of Empire as well as the "origin myth" of how the Anglo-Saxon tribes were a noble warrior caste in search of a new land to colonise - their own Arcadia, which they later on created in North America. Building on from the "shared heritage" of the ancient Germans, Romans and Celts, the more esoteric-minded of the English far-right might therefore see the "British Empire" as some kind of pinnacle of cultural Teutonic-Celtic symbiosis.
Meanwhile, those who support "White Power" in the USA, likewise see the USA's destiny not as a melting pot of races, but as the "successor" to the legacy of Britain's imperial power projection - their own perversion of the idea of an "Aryan" English-speaking super-state. From its origins as the Thirteen Colonies, the USA eventually superseded its British "parent", and those "White Power" fanatics that now cheer on Donald Trump's slogan of "Make America Great Again", feel in their heart that it is about "Making America White Again". The cultural bonds that tie "White Power" in America and the culture war behind "Brexit" are strong.
Although Fascism is a deeply-hierarchical ideology, thinkers like Evola also saw that violence was the only means to bring about change. As mentioned earlier, the eight-pointed star is also a symbol of chaos, and Fascism in the modern world could only come about through means of chaos. As it is by definition an extreme ideology, extreme ideas could only be considered applicable in extreme times (i.e. in times of great upheaval). For this reason, as well as Fascists idolizing violence as a means to demonstrate power and chauvinistic virility, they are also the means they use to bring about the chaos necessary to enact their agenda.
Extreme agendas can only be exacted in extreme times: the same is also true of the radical agenda hidden within those who advocate for a "Hard Brexit". In the chaos that could easily follow such an unprecedented series of events, who knows what kind of state Britain would be in. The "millenarian" belief of change only being possible through some kind of turbulent "conflagration" is something that many Fascists believed in passionately. This also seems to be shared by some people in government.
And, one can imagine, the guy who drew this image in Carlisle.
Saturday, November 18, 2017
Brexit and UK government strategy: Imperialistic Pretensions
A good way to assess a country's true psychology is to look at how it treats other nations.
The UK's relations with Europe and the rest of the world are currently going through a radical reconfiguration, thanks to Brexit. But equally, the way that the UK government is handling Brexit and its relations with its near neighbours in Europe is also highly-revealing in telling us the true nature of the country's leaders, and their motivations. As a result of this, European observers of the negotiation process between the UK and the EU are having to sharply re-evaluate their preconceptions about Britain's sense of morality. They are beginning to realise that Britain's honesty and transparency can no longer be taken for granted. They realise that Britain is behaving like a "troublemaker".
Divide and rule
When the chips are down, Britain's government has an instinct for devious behaviour (in particular towards its own population).The British government's negotiation strategy with the EU (if it can be coherently said to have one), seems to follow on from the same tactics, which Britain also once used when it was an Imperial power.
Back in the day, the British government's strategy for keeping the colonies under control was one of "divide and rule". In India, this was about balancing the different ethnic sides off against each other. The tensions between those sides (e.g. Hindu versus Muslim) were then stoked by Britain as a deliberate policy to sabotage the growing independence movement. This then made post-independence violence all the more certain; as we know, millions died in violence during those population exchanges. Earlier in Britain's rule over India, we had the Indian Mutiny, which caused widespread devastation, and also numerous famines over time that caused the deaths of millions, to the general indifference of its British rulers.
Closer to home, and another example of "divide and rule" that is often forgotten by Britain's population, was the treatment of Ireland: the land "across the (St George's) channel" that was effectively Britain's colony, with much of its Catholic population treated as virtual slave labour. Institutional indifference led to the potato famine, causing the deaths of millions, and the widespread depopulation of Ireland. Meanwhile, there was Northern Ireland, where again, Britain's ignorance of its bloody past and persecution towards the Ulster Catholic minority, is widespread. As we see, the policy of "divide and rule" is still at the heart of how the government runs the country even today, thanks to the DUP. And that doesn't even mention the current government's arrogant attitude towards the Irish government as part of its negotiations with the EU (more on that later).
The same could be said of Britain's rule over Palestine, where the Arab majority were played off against the Jewish minority. As the violence between them and their British overlords got increasingly out of hand, the British left the whole mess to the newly-created UN, who were totally unable to deal with the situation. As with "divide and rule" in Ireland, the Middle East is still dealing with the after effects of that today.
Britain, as an Imperial power, therefore had a long reputation for dealing with its colonies in a Machiavellian manner. The three mentioned, India, Ireland and Palestine, are just a few of the more glaring examples. There are many others. Of course, this strategy was common among all "Imperial powers", and Britain was very far from the worst in this regard. However, the cases of India, Ireland and Palestine are three stains on Britain's colonial record - in terms of the collective human impact of their policies - that stand out even among other acts of colonial infamy by other powers. Britain may not have used torture on an mass scale like some other Imperial powers, but it would be naive in the extreme to think of Britain as a paragon on Imperial virtue, like as it has been with some, nostalgic over the past.
The manner in which the UK government has dealt with the EU during the negotiations follows the same path. On one hand, Britain's Prime Minister talks of wanting a "deep and special partnership" with the EU based on trust and co-operation. But on the other, while negotiations are ongoing with the EU as a whole, her government (and the PM herself) seeks to drive clefts within the nations of the EU itself. Firstly, Theresa May and her ministers engage in the type of diplomacy that looks for issues that individual members of the EU might agree with Britain on, separately from the rest of the EU; the purpose of this is to build some kind of "inner coalition" within the EU that might be more supportive towards Britain's goals. Secondly, in the case of Germany, David Davis seems to be on a strategy to win over the support of its industrialists that would then act a some kind of "lobby" to pressure Angela Merkel on Britain's behalf. In this case, it is like developing a "cleft within a cleft". His comments just recently, where he blamed France and Germany for holding up the negotiations, support the view that Britain's strategy is to drive wedges between nations, as well as even wedges between interest groups in the nations themselves.
These two examples show not only the glaring lack of tact of Britain's government, but also reveal its government's true motivations: treating Europe as a kind of "colony" that can be manipulated and exploited to achieve its goals.
Looking at this objectively, it paints a very poor picture for Britain as a nation to be trusted. Not only is it being devious; it is being tactless. And everyone can see it.
It is almost reminiscent of the tactless behaviour and self-defeating diplomatic strategy of Germany's Kaiser Wilhelm II. When he came to power, he wanted Germany to be a great power, but also one that had good relations with its neighbours. Through a series of misjudgments, Germany fell out of favour with Britain, Russia and France, leading the Kaiser to look for alliances with nations that others were wary to be close to. This left Germany diplomatically-isolated from the major Imperial powers, leading its government to seek self-reliance as the best form of defence. We know where that ended.
In a different context, Britain's government seem to be repeating many of the same kind of blunders: making enemies where it should be making friends; while in seeking to divide existing alliances, the only effect this has is to unite them against itself as their common agitator. This kind of "imperialistic approach" will only end in failure, while showing to others that Britain's motivations are antagonistic in nature.
"Special treatment"
Apart from the Imperialistic strategy of "divide and rule", there is the UK government's (equally Imperialistic) mindset of expecting the EU to do everything for them, give in to all their demands, while offering little in return.
This is the lazily-entitled mindset that Britain had seen in remission during its membership of the EU. In many ways, joining the EU was an admission of Britain's relative weakness in the post-Imperial world. As it was not in a position to make demands, it allowed Britain an opportunity to reshape its own sense of identity. Brexit represents a backwards step to the entitled, patronising attitude that the country had during its colonial past: nothing is ever Britain's fault.
David Davis seems to summarise this mentality well: a monoglot who is incapable of understanding even the basics of his brief, or seeming to care. To him, Brexit all seems like a bit of a lark. As far as he sees it, Britain has already offered "compromises" (I struggle to think of any), and so the onus is on the EU to do the same. This attitude ignores the fact that the EU is simply following its own rules, as clearly laid out in statute in the Lisbon treaty. This has been explained repeatedly to Davis, who never seems to listen. The EU is not setting out to "punish" Britain; it is simply explaining the rules as they stand, and what is and isn't possible within that framework. But Britain's government wants the EU to ignore its own rules in order to indulge its wishes. In its lazily-entitled thinking, Britain has all the bearing of a haughty Imperialist of yesteryear that expects "foreign lackeys" to do all its work for it, while it wallows in its own self-satisfaction, ordering others around.
For some reason, Britain thinks it should be entitled to some kind of extra-legal cloud-cuckoo land where it gets "special treatment" from the rest of the world.
Expecting "special treatment" on one hand, while enacting a strategy of "divide and rule" on the other, Britain's government has simply slipped back into the lazy Imperialistic pretensions of a hundred years ago, but minus the Empire.
While the negotiations with the EU continue, the rest of the world (who Britain expects to have preferential trade agreements with) must look on with a mixture of bemusement and bafflement. If Britain can't even negotiate properly with its supposed "friends and allies", what chance has it got against anyone else?
The UK's relations with Europe and the rest of the world are currently going through a radical reconfiguration, thanks to Brexit. But equally, the way that the UK government is handling Brexit and its relations with its near neighbours in Europe is also highly-revealing in telling us the true nature of the country's leaders, and their motivations. As a result of this, European observers of the negotiation process between the UK and the EU are having to sharply re-evaluate their preconceptions about Britain's sense of morality. They are beginning to realise that Britain's honesty and transparency can no longer be taken for granted. They realise that Britain is behaving like a "troublemaker".
Divide and rule
When the chips are down, Britain's government has an instinct for devious behaviour (in particular towards its own population).The British government's negotiation strategy with the EU (if it can be coherently said to have one), seems to follow on from the same tactics, which Britain also once used when it was an Imperial power.
Back in the day, the British government's strategy for keeping the colonies under control was one of "divide and rule". In India, this was about balancing the different ethnic sides off against each other. The tensions between those sides (e.g. Hindu versus Muslim) were then stoked by Britain as a deliberate policy to sabotage the growing independence movement. This then made post-independence violence all the more certain; as we know, millions died in violence during those population exchanges. Earlier in Britain's rule over India, we had the Indian Mutiny, which caused widespread devastation, and also numerous famines over time that caused the deaths of millions, to the general indifference of its British rulers.
Closer to home, and another example of "divide and rule" that is often forgotten by Britain's population, was the treatment of Ireland: the land "across the (St George's) channel" that was effectively Britain's colony, with much of its Catholic population treated as virtual slave labour. Institutional indifference led to the potato famine, causing the deaths of millions, and the widespread depopulation of Ireland. Meanwhile, there was Northern Ireland, where again, Britain's ignorance of its bloody past and persecution towards the Ulster Catholic minority, is widespread. As we see, the policy of "divide and rule" is still at the heart of how the government runs the country even today, thanks to the DUP. And that doesn't even mention the current government's arrogant attitude towards the Irish government as part of its negotiations with the EU (more on that later).
The same could be said of Britain's rule over Palestine, where the Arab majority were played off against the Jewish minority. As the violence between them and their British overlords got increasingly out of hand, the British left the whole mess to the newly-created UN, who were totally unable to deal with the situation. As with "divide and rule" in Ireland, the Middle East is still dealing with the after effects of that today.
Britain, as an Imperial power, therefore had a long reputation for dealing with its colonies in a Machiavellian manner. The three mentioned, India, Ireland and Palestine, are just a few of the more glaring examples. There are many others. Of course, this strategy was common among all "Imperial powers", and Britain was very far from the worst in this regard. However, the cases of India, Ireland and Palestine are three stains on Britain's colonial record - in terms of the collective human impact of their policies - that stand out even among other acts of colonial infamy by other powers. Britain may not have used torture on an mass scale like some other Imperial powers, but it would be naive in the extreme to think of Britain as a paragon on Imperial virtue, like as it has been with some, nostalgic over the past.
The manner in which the UK government has dealt with the EU during the negotiations follows the same path. On one hand, Britain's Prime Minister talks of wanting a "deep and special partnership" with the EU based on trust and co-operation. But on the other, while negotiations are ongoing with the EU as a whole, her government (and the PM herself) seeks to drive clefts within the nations of the EU itself. Firstly, Theresa May and her ministers engage in the type of diplomacy that looks for issues that individual members of the EU might agree with Britain on, separately from the rest of the EU; the purpose of this is to build some kind of "inner coalition" within the EU that might be more supportive towards Britain's goals. Secondly, in the case of Germany, David Davis seems to be on a strategy to win over the support of its industrialists that would then act a some kind of "lobby" to pressure Angela Merkel on Britain's behalf. In this case, it is like developing a "cleft within a cleft". His comments just recently, where he blamed France and Germany for holding up the negotiations, support the view that Britain's strategy is to drive wedges between nations, as well as even wedges between interest groups in the nations themselves.
These two examples show not only the glaring lack of tact of Britain's government, but also reveal its government's true motivations: treating Europe as a kind of "colony" that can be manipulated and exploited to achieve its goals.
Looking at this objectively, it paints a very poor picture for Britain as a nation to be trusted. Not only is it being devious; it is being tactless. And everyone can see it.
It is almost reminiscent of the tactless behaviour and self-defeating diplomatic strategy of Germany's Kaiser Wilhelm II. When he came to power, he wanted Germany to be a great power, but also one that had good relations with its neighbours. Through a series of misjudgments, Germany fell out of favour with Britain, Russia and France, leading the Kaiser to look for alliances with nations that others were wary to be close to. This left Germany diplomatically-isolated from the major Imperial powers, leading its government to seek self-reliance as the best form of defence. We know where that ended.
In a different context, Britain's government seem to be repeating many of the same kind of blunders: making enemies where it should be making friends; while in seeking to divide existing alliances, the only effect this has is to unite them against itself as their common agitator. This kind of "imperialistic approach" will only end in failure, while showing to others that Britain's motivations are antagonistic in nature.
"Special treatment"
Apart from the Imperialistic strategy of "divide and rule", there is the UK government's (equally Imperialistic) mindset of expecting the EU to do everything for them, give in to all their demands, while offering little in return.
This is the lazily-entitled mindset that Britain had seen in remission during its membership of the EU. In many ways, joining the EU was an admission of Britain's relative weakness in the post-Imperial world. As it was not in a position to make demands, it allowed Britain an opportunity to reshape its own sense of identity. Brexit represents a backwards step to the entitled, patronising attitude that the country had during its colonial past: nothing is ever Britain's fault.
David Davis seems to summarise this mentality well: a monoglot who is incapable of understanding even the basics of his brief, or seeming to care. To him, Brexit all seems like a bit of a lark. As far as he sees it, Britain has already offered "compromises" (I struggle to think of any), and so the onus is on the EU to do the same. This attitude ignores the fact that the EU is simply following its own rules, as clearly laid out in statute in the Lisbon treaty. This has been explained repeatedly to Davis, who never seems to listen. The EU is not setting out to "punish" Britain; it is simply explaining the rules as they stand, and what is and isn't possible within that framework. But Britain's government wants the EU to ignore its own rules in order to indulge its wishes. In its lazily-entitled thinking, Britain has all the bearing of a haughty Imperialist of yesteryear that expects "foreign lackeys" to do all its work for it, while it wallows in its own self-satisfaction, ordering others around.
For some reason, Britain thinks it should be entitled to some kind of extra-legal cloud-cuckoo land where it gets "special treatment" from the rest of the world.
Expecting "special treatment" on one hand, while enacting a strategy of "divide and rule" on the other, Britain's government has simply slipped back into the lazy Imperialistic pretensions of a hundred years ago, but minus the Empire.
While the negotiations with the EU continue, the rest of the world (who Britain expects to have preferential trade agreements with) must look on with a mixture of bemusement and bafflement. If Britain can't even negotiate properly with its supposed "friends and allies", what chance has it got against anyone else?
Labels:
Brexit,
British Empire,
incompetence,
Kaiser Wilhelm
Wednesday, November 15, 2017
Brexit and British pathology: the "three men in a pub" analogy
I've reached the stage where it feels as though Brexit is government policy organised by three drunk guys in a pub.
If you've ever been in a pub during a week-day afternoon, when it is more likely to be populated by problem drinkers, you might recognise the analogy. After a few drinks, conversation inevitably descends to a few core topics, that all revolve around the issue of culture: sport, identity and history.
When not talking about football, rugby or cricket (depending on the men's background), conversation drifts to broader cultural issues: things like immigration, cultural assimilation of said foreigners, how the face of Britain has changed over the years, and so on. Linked issues like gender identity may get a look-in on the conversation. Of course, politics also runs through all of this as well, as issues of cultural identity also raise issues like Britain's wider place in the world. In short, the narrative can gradually devolve to one of men feeling dis-empowered in the modern age; somehow emasculated, and that a sense of Britain's decline is tied in with their own sense of losing pride in their male identity. Men together, after a few drinks, love talking about themselves, but always in a wider context of their sense of identity and culture. Things that they would never say when sober they feel free to say when drunk, as if their inner id has been unleashed.
This is one of the reasons that British male culture (or pathology) is so schizophrenic - they feel restrained by the wider culture into a certain type of taciturn modesty in everyday life, which then results in a kind of repressed "inner demon" being unleashed when drunk. It also explains the propensity for drunken violence so common on British streets after dark. This "pathology" is something I want to explore in more detail.
"Take Back Control"
This may all sound familiar (hopefully, it does). The "culture wars" that seem to have been unleashed by the forces behind Brexit are the same ones that are behind the wider rise of Populism, and the ugly undercurrent that is somehow "rehabilitating" the politics of Fascism. In a different context, the same could well be said for the rise of Islamic extremism.
Ultimately, it can be argued it boils down to a "loss of masculinity", for what these events all share is a primal desire for "men to be men". The rise of women's rights, the disruptive effects of globalisation and then the financial crisis all accumulated the core issue of loss of power. What this means in a British context (for that is the focus of this article) is about "taking back control", epitomised in the brilliantly-concise and innately-primal slogan of the "Brexiteers". This explains one part of why Britain chose to leave the EU. Apart from the wider cultural context (more on that later), the "Brexiteers" in government knew how to manipulate the "pathology" of the British psyche to make the referendum seem a question of British freedom versus European dictatorship. If we classify "culture" as meaning "history plus identity", we can begin to see how the "three men in a pub" analogy is something ingrained into the British psyche. It's no wonder that part of Nigel Farage's appeal was the constant association of him with a pint in his hand, thus subconsciously putting him on the side of the "man in the street" (or the pub). In a different way, Boris Johnson, as one of the leading "Brexiteers" in government, was able to inject his own brand of charisma into the referendum campaign, thus ensuring that the side for leaving the EU had all the most easily-identifiable personalities.
It was emotional appeals that won the day, rather than rational argument. Like how the "man in the pub" can never be rationally argued against without provoking violence, the arguments of those in favour of the EU were never going to win over the "Brexiteer" ideas that were all about "pie in the sky" thinking. There was never one moment when the arguments for leaving the EU were decisively shot down, because, in a way, there were no real arguments for leaving; there were only "beliefs". In the same way that an atheist can never truly win argument against faith (because it misses the point), Brexit is a faith-based ideology that requires a suspension of disbelief. We'll look at some of those "beliefs" below.
"This sceptred isle"
Part of the identity issues mentioned earlier naturally come down to national history shaping the national psyche. The obvious fact that Britain is an island plays a fundamental part to that, which leads to two well-understood "truths": a) that Britain hasn't been invaded for a thousand years, and b) that we have historically been apart from continental Europe.
Britain's role in the Second World War is still, seventy years on, an integral part of the national psyche. For the "three men in the pub", this is what our national identity is all about, and fundamentally shapes our relationship with Europe. The fact that the country wasn't invaded during that war (as well as Dunkirk - more on that later - "the plucky underdog") emotionally stands for a lot to "the man in the pub". It infers that Britain is different (i.e. "special"). This lends itself to a complacency about life in the modern world; that because Britain was able to stand apart and free in the Second World War, suggests we'd be able to do the same again today. Because Britain was a victor of both World Wars, it infers that we'd be a victor in the world again today. The fact that all this was possible through a combination of luck, happenstance and outside factors is ignored. In a sense, Britain's experience of war in the 20th century was cosmetic compared to that experienced on the continent.
In the industrial era, Britain never experienced mass displacement of refugees, entire cities levelled, or real starvation. It has never experienced a real "national humiliation", like many nations of Europe have. It has never experienced Fascism first-hand, either. It is this "luck" that the "man in the pub" confuses with "destiny", and therefore adds to the complacency that supports his "pie in the sky" assertions over Brexit, as well as his faith that Fascism could have never happened in Britain anyway.
To take a more recent example of this complacency, Britain winning the Falklands War was, to a large extent, pure luck. If Britain had lost that war (which was always likely), the sense of national humiliation would have been profound. The Thatcher government wouldn't have lasted long, and Britain's national psyche would have been shattered. But we won, and so Britain's belief in its own indestructibility continued to the present day. A "Hard Brexit" would be a real test of that indestructibility.
Likewise, the fact that Britain's success as a nation came about through world empire rather than entanglements in Europe is another part of the narrative for "the man in the pub". Even the term "Brexiteer" sounds vaguely romantic, like the word "buccaneer", evoking the travails of Britain (or more exactly, England) as a vibrant, sea-faring nation of the world. This goes back to the time before Britain's involvement in continental wars of the 18th and 19th centuries, while looking at more recent centuries, evokes instead the successes of the empire. Put in this light, Europe's closeness to Britain feels almost incidental to its history.
More generally, historians understand that Britain's relationship with Europe is complex. While in general Britain's role on the continent was often as a semi-detached observer, it has had a part to play in Europe for centuries, even if only for the self-interested reason of maintaining the balance of power. This is exactly one reason why Britain joined the EU in the first place: to maintain its influence on the major players from inside the club, rather than as an impotent outside observer. But Brexit relegates us to exactly that role, if not worse: by our actions turning ourselves into a "troublesome neighbour". Again, the "man in the pub" is not interested in the wider picture or the more strategic outcome: he is only interested in defending his narrow sense of self.
"The plucky underdog"
As mentioned earlier, there is also an element of the "Dunkirk spirit" to the British pathology and Brexit. For some reason, British psychology is to "stick up for the underdog", which is also an integral part of our sporting culture. Wars that the country has been involved with have often had an element of needing to side with the "bullied" underling in the conflict. The most glaring modern example was being on the side of Serbia against Austria in the First World War (although Serbia was the clear aggressor in being a state sponsor of terrorism against Austria), while it was Germany's invasion of Belgium (as a path to attacking France) that was the ultimate trigger for British involvement.
This strong sense of a "moral code" and right from wrong is a part of British psyche. One reason why many British people still seem set on their course to leave the EU come what may is due to this feeling that to back out would "betray" the point of the vote. No argument can be reasonably put against this belief, as it is exactly that: a "belief". The vote was cast, we are leaving, and that is that. To backtrack on that would be anathema.
Another part of British pathology is the celebration of the "glorious failure". Going back to Serbia, this nation is one glaring example of how "glorious failure" can utterly dominate its pathology. Defeat of the Serbs by the Ottoman Turks in 1389 at the Battle Of Kosovo was given a moment of glory when one of the battle's last acts was the death of the victorious Sultan. Thus although Serbia was defeated, it went down fighting in glory. And this is what led the Serbia's emotional attachment to Kosovo, and all the bloodshed there in the late 1990s.
Dunkirk was a famous example of Britain's "glorious failure", and it is that "Dunkirk spirit" that has shaped the narrative around Brexit. It may be difficult, the "Brexiteers" admit, but it will be glorious. It is better to die on your feet than to live on your knees, they might say.
This kind of emotional hyperbole is typical of "the man in the pub".
"No Surrender"
This is the masculine tag-line that seems to habitually crop up in belligerent news articles about the Brexit negotiations. It evokes the Churchillian rhetoric of the Second World War, that also melds with the same attitude that more recently punctuated "The Troubles" in Northern Ireland. The psychological result is something that sounds more like the drunken chant of football hooligans on tour in the continent than a coherent strategy; a juvenile stubbornness that comes from a deep-seated sense of insecurity.
When his brittle sense of self is threatened, "the man in the pub" reverts to these age-old emotional crutches. To cave in to other people's demands would be unacceptable; compromise a sign of weakness, and anathema. To back down is unthinkable. This is the same kind of masculine fragility that led to historical disasters the world over.
"Make do and mend"
"It will be fine" Boris said reassuringly about Brexit during the campaign.
Again conjuring Second World War symbolism, the "Brexiteers" conjure up Britain's past in order to describe its future. The misty-eyed perspective of "the man in the pub" looks back fondly to his youth and the "oldern days", and looks at the grim reality that it was through rose-tinted spectacles. Because Britain has a culture of "making do", it implies that even if Brexit is a disaster, people will get by and manage, just as they did during the war.
Sometimes it feels as thought everything about Brexit somehow relates to how things were "during the war". The feeling that people might somehow benefit from "lean times" also explains how many people were once highly-supportive of austerity, as though there is some innate virtue in self-deprivation.
This is another aspect of British pathology that is hard to get to grips with, or to understand its origins. Could it have its cultural roots in the "Puritan revolution", now given a second breath of life as Brexit? Going back to the masculine analogy of earlier, Brexit is also seen emotionally as a way to make people "toughen up" after having softened from years of the good life and European luxuries. It is this line of thought that leans unfavourably into the realm of Fascist ideology. Given long enough, and the drunken conversation of "three guys in a pub" will enter into realms such as "survival of the fittest", cutting away society's dead flesh by one means or another, and the restoration of the death penalty.
This is the real "Brexit Agenda": the drunken fantasies of boorish louts.
If you've ever been in a pub during a week-day afternoon, when it is more likely to be populated by problem drinkers, you might recognise the analogy. After a few drinks, conversation inevitably descends to a few core topics, that all revolve around the issue of culture: sport, identity and history.
When not talking about football, rugby or cricket (depending on the men's background), conversation drifts to broader cultural issues: things like immigration, cultural assimilation of said foreigners, how the face of Britain has changed over the years, and so on. Linked issues like gender identity may get a look-in on the conversation. Of course, politics also runs through all of this as well, as issues of cultural identity also raise issues like Britain's wider place in the world. In short, the narrative can gradually devolve to one of men feeling dis-empowered in the modern age; somehow emasculated, and that a sense of Britain's decline is tied in with their own sense of losing pride in their male identity. Men together, after a few drinks, love talking about themselves, but always in a wider context of their sense of identity and culture. Things that they would never say when sober they feel free to say when drunk, as if their inner id has been unleashed.
This is one of the reasons that British male culture (or pathology) is so schizophrenic - they feel restrained by the wider culture into a certain type of taciturn modesty in everyday life, which then results in a kind of repressed "inner demon" being unleashed when drunk. It also explains the propensity for drunken violence so common on British streets after dark. This "pathology" is something I want to explore in more detail.
"Take Back Control"
This may all sound familiar (hopefully, it does). The "culture wars" that seem to have been unleashed by the forces behind Brexit are the same ones that are behind the wider rise of Populism, and the ugly undercurrent that is somehow "rehabilitating" the politics of Fascism. In a different context, the same could well be said for the rise of Islamic extremism.
Ultimately, it can be argued it boils down to a "loss of masculinity", for what these events all share is a primal desire for "men to be men". The rise of women's rights, the disruptive effects of globalisation and then the financial crisis all accumulated the core issue of loss of power. What this means in a British context (for that is the focus of this article) is about "taking back control", epitomised in the brilliantly-concise and innately-primal slogan of the "Brexiteers". This explains one part of why Britain chose to leave the EU. Apart from the wider cultural context (more on that later), the "Brexiteers" in government knew how to manipulate the "pathology" of the British psyche to make the referendum seem a question of British freedom versus European dictatorship. If we classify "culture" as meaning "history plus identity", we can begin to see how the "three men in a pub" analogy is something ingrained into the British psyche. It's no wonder that part of Nigel Farage's appeal was the constant association of him with a pint in his hand, thus subconsciously putting him on the side of the "man in the street" (or the pub). In a different way, Boris Johnson, as one of the leading "Brexiteers" in government, was able to inject his own brand of charisma into the referendum campaign, thus ensuring that the side for leaving the EU had all the most easily-identifiable personalities.
It was emotional appeals that won the day, rather than rational argument. Like how the "man in the pub" can never be rationally argued against without provoking violence, the arguments of those in favour of the EU were never going to win over the "Brexiteer" ideas that were all about "pie in the sky" thinking. There was never one moment when the arguments for leaving the EU were decisively shot down, because, in a way, there were no real arguments for leaving; there were only "beliefs". In the same way that an atheist can never truly win argument against faith (because it misses the point), Brexit is a faith-based ideology that requires a suspension of disbelief. We'll look at some of those "beliefs" below.
"This sceptred isle"
Part of the identity issues mentioned earlier naturally come down to national history shaping the national psyche. The obvious fact that Britain is an island plays a fundamental part to that, which leads to two well-understood "truths": a) that Britain hasn't been invaded for a thousand years, and b) that we have historically been apart from continental Europe.
Britain's role in the Second World War is still, seventy years on, an integral part of the national psyche. For the "three men in the pub", this is what our national identity is all about, and fundamentally shapes our relationship with Europe. The fact that the country wasn't invaded during that war (as well as Dunkirk - more on that later - "the plucky underdog") emotionally stands for a lot to "the man in the pub". It infers that Britain is different (i.e. "special"). This lends itself to a complacency about life in the modern world; that because Britain was able to stand apart and free in the Second World War, suggests we'd be able to do the same again today. Because Britain was a victor of both World Wars, it infers that we'd be a victor in the world again today. The fact that all this was possible through a combination of luck, happenstance and outside factors is ignored. In a sense, Britain's experience of war in the 20th century was cosmetic compared to that experienced on the continent.
In the industrial era, Britain never experienced mass displacement of refugees, entire cities levelled, or real starvation. It has never experienced a real "national humiliation", like many nations of Europe have. It has never experienced Fascism first-hand, either. It is this "luck" that the "man in the pub" confuses with "destiny", and therefore adds to the complacency that supports his "pie in the sky" assertions over Brexit, as well as his faith that Fascism could have never happened in Britain anyway.
To take a more recent example of this complacency, Britain winning the Falklands War was, to a large extent, pure luck. If Britain had lost that war (which was always likely), the sense of national humiliation would have been profound. The Thatcher government wouldn't have lasted long, and Britain's national psyche would have been shattered. But we won, and so Britain's belief in its own indestructibility continued to the present day. A "Hard Brexit" would be a real test of that indestructibility.
Likewise, the fact that Britain's success as a nation came about through world empire rather than entanglements in Europe is another part of the narrative for "the man in the pub". Even the term "Brexiteer" sounds vaguely romantic, like the word "buccaneer", evoking the travails of Britain (or more exactly, England) as a vibrant, sea-faring nation of the world. This goes back to the time before Britain's involvement in continental wars of the 18th and 19th centuries, while looking at more recent centuries, evokes instead the successes of the empire. Put in this light, Europe's closeness to Britain feels almost incidental to its history.
More generally, historians understand that Britain's relationship with Europe is complex. While in general Britain's role on the continent was often as a semi-detached observer, it has had a part to play in Europe for centuries, even if only for the self-interested reason of maintaining the balance of power. This is exactly one reason why Britain joined the EU in the first place: to maintain its influence on the major players from inside the club, rather than as an impotent outside observer. But Brexit relegates us to exactly that role, if not worse: by our actions turning ourselves into a "troublesome neighbour". Again, the "man in the pub" is not interested in the wider picture or the more strategic outcome: he is only interested in defending his narrow sense of self.
"The plucky underdog"
As mentioned earlier, there is also an element of the "Dunkirk spirit" to the British pathology and Brexit. For some reason, British psychology is to "stick up for the underdog", which is also an integral part of our sporting culture. Wars that the country has been involved with have often had an element of needing to side with the "bullied" underling in the conflict. The most glaring modern example was being on the side of Serbia against Austria in the First World War (although Serbia was the clear aggressor in being a state sponsor of terrorism against Austria), while it was Germany's invasion of Belgium (as a path to attacking France) that was the ultimate trigger for British involvement.
This strong sense of a "moral code" and right from wrong is a part of British psyche. One reason why many British people still seem set on their course to leave the EU come what may is due to this feeling that to back out would "betray" the point of the vote. No argument can be reasonably put against this belief, as it is exactly that: a "belief". The vote was cast, we are leaving, and that is that. To backtrack on that would be anathema.
Another part of British pathology is the celebration of the "glorious failure". Going back to Serbia, this nation is one glaring example of how "glorious failure" can utterly dominate its pathology. Defeat of the Serbs by the Ottoman Turks in 1389 at the Battle Of Kosovo was given a moment of glory when one of the battle's last acts was the death of the victorious Sultan. Thus although Serbia was defeated, it went down fighting in glory. And this is what led the Serbia's emotional attachment to Kosovo, and all the bloodshed there in the late 1990s.
Dunkirk was a famous example of Britain's "glorious failure", and it is that "Dunkirk spirit" that has shaped the narrative around Brexit. It may be difficult, the "Brexiteers" admit, but it will be glorious. It is better to die on your feet than to live on your knees, they might say.
This kind of emotional hyperbole is typical of "the man in the pub".
"No Surrender"
This is the masculine tag-line that seems to habitually crop up in belligerent news articles about the Brexit negotiations. It evokes the Churchillian rhetoric of the Second World War, that also melds with the same attitude that more recently punctuated "The Troubles" in Northern Ireland. The psychological result is something that sounds more like the drunken chant of football hooligans on tour in the continent than a coherent strategy; a juvenile stubbornness that comes from a deep-seated sense of insecurity.
When his brittle sense of self is threatened, "the man in the pub" reverts to these age-old emotional crutches. To cave in to other people's demands would be unacceptable; compromise a sign of weakness, and anathema. To back down is unthinkable. This is the same kind of masculine fragility that led to historical disasters the world over.
"Make do and mend"
"It will be fine" Boris said reassuringly about Brexit during the campaign.
Again conjuring Second World War symbolism, the "Brexiteers" conjure up Britain's past in order to describe its future. The misty-eyed perspective of "the man in the pub" looks back fondly to his youth and the "oldern days", and looks at the grim reality that it was through rose-tinted spectacles. Because Britain has a culture of "making do", it implies that even if Brexit is a disaster, people will get by and manage, just as they did during the war.
Sometimes it feels as thought everything about Brexit somehow relates to how things were "during the war". The feeling that people might somehow benefit from "lean times" also explains how many people were once highly-supportive of austerity, as though there is some innate virtue in self-deprivation.
This is another aspect of British pathology that is hard to get to grips with, or to understand its origins. Could it have its cultural roots in the "Puritan revolution", now given a second breath of life as Brexit? Going back to the masculine analogy of earlier, Brexit is also seen emotionally as a way to make people "toughen up" after having softened from years of the good life and European luxuries. It is this line of thought that leans unfavourably into the realm of Fascist ideology. Given long enough, and the drunken conversation of "three guys in a pub" will enter into realms such as "survival of the fittest", cutting away society's dead flesh by one means or another, and the restoration of the death penalty.
This is the real "Brexit Agenda": the drunken fantasies of boorish louts.
Monday, November 13, 2017
Asperger's Syndrome: "Aspies", social behaviour and relationships
Asperger's Syndrome is a complex condition that affects how an individual interacts with and perceives the world. In layman's terms, it makes the person's brain work and think differently from others (who are "Neuro-Typical").
In this post I want to focus on how people with Asperger's Syndrome (or "aspies" for short) deal with relationships with others, in particular personal relations.
Like with some other conditions, Asperger's Syndrome can be measured on a scale, which is why there are tests for such a purpose. But this also means that there can be a wide variation in the "acuteness" of the condition, and how it portrays itself. At the far end of the scale, those with the most pronounced form of this condition are most likely to find everyday life a struggle and may well never have regular employment. At the "milder" end of the scale, those "Aspies" may well not even realise that there is anything that unusual about themselves, especially if they have a successful career in a profession they enjoy: in this case, it may well be that others will observe the individual as being somewhat "eccentric", but think little more of it.
This is why it is rare to find two "Aspies" that are exactly alike: while many aspects of behaviour may be the same, the way it portrays itself can vary tremendously, being as unique from one individual to the next. One key behaviour common among "Aspies" is a focus on special interests; but what those interests are depends on the person.
"Aspies" are typically socially-awkward and introverted, and are averse to social gatherings. They lack the social cues that most ordinary people have by instinct, thus making them often appear rude, self-centred and tactless to outsiders. For this reason, they have been compared (falsely) with narcissists, who also portray many of the same traits in their interactions with others. The key difference is that people with Asperger's Syndrome do not behave like this out of choice - it is because they inherently lack the social cues that make them unable to do things differently. A narcissist, by contrast, behaves in this way simply because he doesn't care - he lacks empathy; "Aspies" care deeply about the world around them, but are often unable to demonstrate it in an easily-accessible form. "Aspies" do not lack empathy; they simply lack the right behaviours to suitably show it. For instance, many "Aspies", if admonished for appearing to lack social affect, may be genuinely horrified by the negative effect of their actions on others, and will quickly seek to make things right. They do not seek to cause offence intentionally; they simply see things in a different way, and see it as their moral duty to explain this.
In short, "Aspies" find social interactions and relationships hard work. Because they inherently lack the social cues necessary (i.e. their brains "work differently"), they often don't know what to say, what to do, or how to react in social situations. "Small talk" and keeping a conversation flowing naturally is something they can find exhausting; partly because they lack the ability, and partly also due to the "logical" aspect to their thinking - if the conversation lacks a "purpose", they may fail to see the point of it.
It is for this reason that, from childhood, they find it difficult to make friends; what friends they may make could be limited to small number of close companions, and those friends could well be soul-mates in the same bind as themselves, or more soulful children who take kindly to their awkward (but well-meant) behaviour.
The flip side to this social awkwardness is that, in childhood, they are much more likely than other children to be bullied for their "odd" behaviour. While there are those children who might make "aspies" under their wing (so to speak), there are those that will seek to make fun of them. This is where the frustration that "aspies" feel in social interaction can turn to anger: this anger may well them be "internalised" in the form of depression and self-seclusion from others. In a world where social interactions seem so difficult and hurtful, the "aspie" child may see the only safe option is to refuse to interact. This is a natural reaction, but also one that would reinforce the negative perspective that the child with Asperger's Syndrome already has to interactions with others: his interactions with others are bad, therefore people must be bad. This is the self-destructive cycle that this can lead to, if allowed to fester.
This "self-destructive cycle" is a manifestation of some of the kind of glaringly-negative headlines that have been seen about "Asperger's Syndrome" in the news: the cases of "aspie" stalkers, or worse, that have made their victim's lives a living hell. But these cases are self-evidently extreme cases, where any diagnosis of Asperger's Syndrome is more likely incidental than an explanation. It is just as easy to find extreme cases of crime for "Neuro-typical" people.
As mentioned, "Aspies" tend to see the world "logically", and so see the purpose of conversation in a similarly-logical manner. On the one hand, they will say what is needed to be said, and often not much more. They will answer a question, but volunteer little more if they see no point to it. They will follow an instruction, but literally, without picking up any social inferences intended. They will find it difficult to know how to react to anything requiring a sudden emotional response. And as already explained, they will find "small talk" an ordeal, or any need to prolong a conversation into areas that they have little interest in.
But equally, when they want to know something, they will continue the line of inquiry until they have explored the subject to satisfaction. Due to how their brains are wired, "Aspies" are lovers of detail, whether it be spatially (e.g. in art or design), scientifically, or otherwise. They will ask questions about things they want to know about, sometimes to the point of incomprehensible detail. Likewise, any conversation on topics of their interest may turn into them going into the minutiae of the subject. For the listener, this may give the impression of having to listen to an excruciating bore.
For these reasons, relationships for "Aspies" can be as difficult for the other person as much as for the "aspie" themselves. As said earlier, "Aspies" have the same capability for empathy as anyone else; they simply demonstrate it in a different way. Due to their "logical" manner of thinking, intimate relationships might be pursued and maintained in a less-than-conventional way: "aspies" are unlikely to see the utility of "romance" or dating in the orthodox manner (partly because they lack the social skills).
If anything, a bonding relationship is more likely to come from the "Neuro-typical" partner's direction. Due to their socially-awkward nature, partners drawn to them may well see them almost as "lost puppies", who can sense the potential in their highly-moral centre, hidden under an eccentric personality. The "aspie" struggles to express his emotions to his partner, even though he will probably care about them deeply.
The key to making a relationship a success is understanding the nature of the condition, and finding methods that allow the "aspie" to express themselves easily. For example, it is about understanding that the "aspie" not regularly using those "three little words" wouldn't be because he doesn't feel them, but because he feels they shouldn't need to be said: if his affection for the partner has been stated once, it is meant to mean forever (😍). To reiterate what was implied before, when an "aspie" says something, it's because he means it! Although an "aspie" may well not always shower their partner with attention (and is likely to highly value - and need - their own space), when that attention is given, it means a great deal to them.
On that heart-warming note, we can say that although "aspies" can find relationships very hard work at times, they can also be all that more rewarding in the long-run, if there is proper understanding.
In this post I want to focus on how people with Asperger's Syndrome (or "aspies" for short) deal with relationships with others, in particular personal relations.
Like with some other conditions, Asperger's Syndrome can be measured on a scale, which is why there are tests for such a purpose. But this also means that there can be a wide variation in the "acuteness" of the condition, and how it portrays itself. At the far end of the scale, those with the most pronounced form of this condition are most likely to find everyday life a struggle and may well never have regular employment. At the "milder" end of the scale, those "Aspies" may well not even realise that there is anything that unusual about themselves, especially if they have a successful career in a profession they enjoy: in this case, it may well be that others will observe the individual as being somewhat "eccentric", but think little more of it.
This is why it is rare to find two "Aspies" that are exactly alike: while many aspects of behaviour may be the same, the way it portrays itself can vary tremendously, being as unique from one individual to the next. One key behaviour common among "Aspies" is a focus on special interests; but what those interests are depends on the person.
"Aspies" are typically socially-awkward and introverted, and are averse to social gatherings. They lack the social cues that most ordinary people have by instinct, thus making them often appear rude, self-centred and tactless to outsiders. For this reason, they have been compared (falsely) with narcissists, who also portray many of the same traits in their interactions with others. The key difference is that people with Asperger's Syndrome do not behave like this out of choice - it is because they inherently lack the social cues that make them unable to do things differently. A narcissist, by contrast, behaves in this way simply because he doesn't care - he lacks empathy; "Aspies" care deeply about the world around them, but are often unable to demonstrate it in an easily-accessible form. "Aspies" do not lack empathy; they simply lack the right behaviours to suitably show it. For instance, many "Aspies", if admonished for appearing to lack social affect, may be genuinely horrified by the negative effect of their actions on others, and will quickly seek to make things right. They do not seek to cause offence intentionally; they simply see things in a different way, and see it as their moral duty to explain this.
In short, "Aspies" find social interactions and relationships hard work. Because they inherently lack the social cues necessary (i.e. their brains "work differently"), they often don't know what to say, what to do, or how to react in social situations. "Small talk" and keeping a conversation flowing naturally is something they can find exhausting; partly because they lack the ability, and partly also due to the "logical" aspect to their thinking - if the conversation lacks a "purpose", they may fail to see the point of it.
It is for this reason that, from childhood, they find it difficult to make friends; what friends they may make could be limited to small number of close companions, and those friends could well be soul-mates in the same bind as themselves, or more soulful children who take kindly to their awkward (but well-meant) behaviour.
The flip side to this social awkwardness is that, in childhood, they are much more likely than other children to be bullied for their "odd" behaviour. While there are those children who might make "aspies" under their wing (so to speak), there are those that will seek to make fun of them. This is where the frustration that "aspies" feel in social interaction can turn to anger: this anger may well them be "internalised" in the form of depression and self-seclusion from others. In a world where social interactions seem so difficult and hurtful, the "aspie" child may see the only safe option is to refuse to interact. This is a natural reaction, but also one that would reinforce the negative perspective that the child with Asperger's Syndrome already has to interactions with others: his interactions with others are bad, therefore people must be bad. This is the self-destructive cycle that this can lead to, if allowed to fester.
This "self-destructive cycle" is a manifestation of some of the kind of glaringly-negative headlines that have been seen about "Asperger's Syndrome" in the news: the cases of "aspie" stalkers, or worse, that have made their victim's lives a living hell. But these cases are self-evidently extreme cases, where any diagnosis of Asperger's Syndrome is more likely incidental than an explanation. It is just as easy to find extreme cases of crime for "Neuro-typical" people.
As mentioned, "Aspies" tend to see the world "logically", and so see the purpose of conversation in a similarly-logical manner. On the one hand, they will say what is needed to be said, and often not much more. They will answer a question, but volunteer little more if they see no point to it. They will follow an instruction, but literally, without picking up any social inferences intended. They will find it difficult to know how to react to anything requiring a sudden emotional response. And as already explained, they will find "small talk" an ordeal, or any need to prolong a conversation into areas that they have little interest in.
But equally, when they want to know something, they will continue the line of inquiry until they have explored the subject to satisfaction. Due to how their brains are wired, "Aspies" are lovers of detail, whether it be spatially (e.g. in art or design), scientifically, or otherwise. They will ask questions about things they want to know about, sometimes to the point of incomprehensible detail. Likewise, any conversation on topics of their interest may turn into them going into the minutiae of the subject. For the listener, this may give the impression of having to listen to an excruciating bore.
For these reasons, relationships for "Aspies" can be as difficult for the other person as much as for the "aspie" themselves. As said earlier, "Aspies" have the same capability for empathy as anyone else; they simply demonstrate it in a different way. Due to their "logical" manner of thinking, intimate relationships might be pursued and maintained in a less-than-conventional way: "aspies" are unlikely to see the utility of "romance" or dating in the orthodox manner (partly because they lack the social skills).
If anything, a bonding relationship is more likely to come from the "Neuro-typical" partner's direction. Due to their socially-awkward nature, partners drawn to them may well see them almost as "lost puppies", who can sense the potential in their highly-moral centre, hidden under an eccentric personality. The "aspie" struggles to express his emotions to his partner, even though he will probably care about them deeply.
The key to making a relationship a success is understanding the nature of the condition, and finding methods that allow the "aspie" to express themselves easily. For example, it is about understanding that the "aspie" not regularly using those "three little words" wouldn't be because he doesn't feel them, but because he feels they shouldn't need to be said: if his affection for the partner has been stated once, it is meant to mean forever (😍). To reiterate what was implied before, when an "aspie" says something, it's because he means it! Although an "aspie" may well not always shower their partner with attention (and is likely to highly value - and need - their own space), when that attention is given, it means a great deal to them.
On that heart-warming note, we can say that although "aspies" can find relationships very hard work at times, they can also be all that more rewarding in the long-run, if there is proper understanding.
Tuesday, October 31, 2017
Brexit and The English Civil War: Populism versus "Papism"?
It could be argued that the seeds of Brexit go back five hundred years.
British Euroscepticism is an old creed which has usually been a mask for English Nationalism, of one sort or another. But at its heart is a paranoia against Europe, and a particular conspiracy theory that centres on an all-powerful, trans-national ("papist") elite.
The paranoiac, Eurosceptic conspiracy theorists of today (i.e. the zealot "Brexiteers") seem to echo with the same kind of dark delusions as those of 16th and 17th century England. The same could well be said of the ancient roots of modern Anti-Semitism, but that's another story.
The Reformation of Martin Luther five hundred years ago was in many ways about "taking back control" from a over-mighty, corrupt and centralizing elite, based in Rome. This movement also crossed the channel to England. It was the personal whims of Henry VIII rather than Martin Luther that eventually brought about the "English Reformation", and he came to see the power of the papacy in England as a direct threat to his own. One direct result of this was the dissolution of the monasteries, an act of barbarous, monarchical thievery masked behind faith. The febrile atmosphere in the country led to Protestant paranoia against Rome and its ally, Hapsburg Spain, and by the reign of Elizabeth, war.
By the time the Stuart kings came to the throne in the first half of the 17th century, Protestant paranoia had to be tamed. "Splendid Isolation" was also self-destructive. This resulted in a more nuanced and pragmatic approach by the Stuarts towards Catholic Spain and the "Papist" threat; it was a period of English "detente" towards Europe, where relations were improved and connections made. This went so far as leaving some English Protestants into thinking that James, and Charles in particular, were Papists in all but name. Their autocratic actions also fed the view that the Stuart kings were behaving far more like the Papist autocrats on the Continent than the more consensual rulers they had been led to believe in (regardless of the past reality of Henry VIII's reign).
It was this atmosphere of Protestant paranoia over a "Papist", foreign-minded king that led to the English Civil War. The king's forces, the Cavaliers, were seen as foppish, condescending autocrats, while parliament's forces, the Roundheads, were portrayed as sober-minded reformers. The resulting "Commonwealth" of the victorious Roundheads, however, rapidly turned into a virtual Puritan revolution. While the purpose of the Civil war was the restoration of parliament, it actually turned into the autocracy of Oliver Cromwell and his fellow Puritan Protestants where parliament was sidelined; a hard-line faction of parliament had taken control of the country and hijacked its fate. In the end, this situation couldn't last, and we had the Restoration not long after Cromwell's death.
The "new Puritanism"?
We seem to be repeating a variation on the same story centuries later.
Four hundred years ago, while Protestants in England were becoming fed up with James' indulgence of Hapsburg Spain, the seeds were also sown for the Thirty Years' War. This saw Hapsburg (and fellow-Papist) Austria fight against Protestants across the Holy Roman Empire. This Protestant "insurgency" against a centralizing autocracy devastated the heart of Europe.
Ironically, the Hapsburgs also had a part to play in Europe's coming-together after the Second World War. The Treaty Of Westphalia ended the Thirty Years' War and created a peace in Europe that lasted for generations; The Treaty of Rome created the framework for European peace and co-operation after the Second World war.
The Eurosceptics of today wouldn't have missed the historical irony (or implicit symbolism) of the framework for a centralised, European administration being signed in Rome. For the paranoid conspiracy theorists, the whole thing reeked of centuries-old autocratic "Papism", re-imagined in a modern setting. For the paranoid conspiracy theorists, Hapsburg hands even seemed be on the choice of Brussels (and Strasbourg) as its administrative centres; both cities that once were at the heart of "Papist" Austrian and Spanish Hapsburg lands. Belgium is still staunchly Catholic. Eurosceptics' paranoia that the European Union was simply a reconstituted Holy Roman Empire assailed against "democratizing" Protestantism would have been undimmed.
My point is not to argue if these ideas are based in fact (and regardless of any wider symbolism, European integration is a well-established fact); it is that these ideas have been used by paranoid Eurosceptics for the purpose of their own agenda. That agenda seems to be a form of economic and ideological "Puritanism": a kind of 21st century "Commonwealth", with all the potential upheaval that entails.
As with Protestants' suspicion of the allegiance of the Stuart kings of four hundred years ago, Eurosceptics of today would have had their paranoia fueled by the administrations of Blair and Cameron, who were both innately Euro-phile (and ironically, like James and Charles Stuart, both of Scottish stock). Like how Protestants of four hundred years ago would have yearned back to the times of the staunch Protestantism of Elizabeth, today's Eurosceptics yearn back to the certainties of the Thatcher era; another strong woman, they would say, who did not shy from battling Europe.
Like King James, Blair's fate seems to have been to repair relations with Europe, strained after years of quasi-isolation. He otherwise left a long legacy of mixed fortunes during his time in power. James's successor, Charles, took James' autocratic tendency even further, but with far less tact.
Cameron's political fate as the "heir to Blair", in a manner of speaking, also seemed to have gone the way of Charles'. Some of the historical parallels are striking. Foppish and condescending like Charles, Cameron's career at the top was a series of misjudgments. It was trouble with Scotland that started Charles' troubles with parliament in England; after recklessly thinking he had solved the trouble north of the border, Charles thought his troubles with parliament would as easily be solved. They were not, and neither were his troubles with Scotland. The same could be said of Cameron, when his "victory" over the Scottish referendum led him to think he could as easily solve the problem his own faction had with Europe. By acting in a condescending way towards his enemies and behaving like a reckless autocrat, Cameron's fate came to a messy political end.
After being defeated by the "Puritanical" Eurosceptic faction, Cameron was succeeded by Theresa May. The daughter of a vicar, she seemed to match the Brexit Puritans' demeanor for a mean-spirited, petty-minded form of government. In allowing a hostile political environment for the Eurosceptics' paranoia to grow unchecked, she seems to be continuing this inadvertent "reprise" of the mid-17th century narrative: as a female Cromwell, symbolic head of the Puritan "Brexit" revolution that sought to seek out and destroy the remaining vestiges of "Papist" Pro-Europeanism. For these modern Puritans, "Hard Brexit" is their version of the rapture, with their foreign-minded "Papist" enemies rightly deserving of their fate in the rhetorical flames.
The "Brexiteers" of today share the same paranoia towards the continent that the Protestant Puritans had four hundred years ago. The themes are the same, even if the European institutions they attack are different; once it was Rome that was the enemy, while now it is Brussels. As mentioned earlier, the sharper-eyed (and more conspiratorial) Eurosceptics may point to the symbolic "Papist connection" between Brussels and Rome.
Four hundred years ago, the Puritans' allies in Europe were to be found in the Lutheran states of Northern Europe, as they allied against Rome and its Hapsburg allies in Spain and Austria. Today, the "Brexiteers" find their allies in the Populist anti-European movements. These are ideological descendants to the anti-clerical Lutherans that fought against a centralizing Rome, except now their "centralizing" enemies are based in Brussels, with the support of Berlin and Paris.
This is the narrative that has overtaken Britain's politics. These are the "culture wars" that have been fought in the minds of Britain's population, on behalf of a "Puritan" Brexit agenda. The new "English Civil War" has already been fought in the form of the EU referendum: to continue the analogy, the foppish Pro-European "Cavaliers" lost, and the stern-minded Eurosceptic "Roundheads" won.
For the Brexit "Puritans", a new "Commonwealth" beckons; though what it means for everyone else, only time will tell.
British Euroscepticism is an old creed which has usually been a mask for English Nationalism, of one sort or another. But at its heart is a paranoia against Europe, and a particular conspiracy theory that centres on an all-powerful, trans-national ("papist") elite.
The paranoiac, Eurosceptic conspiracy theorists of today (i.e. the zealot "Brexiteers") seem to echo with the same kind of dark delusions as those of 16th and 17th century England. The same could well be said of the ancient roots of modern Anti-Semitism, but that's another story.
The Reformation of Martin Luther five hundred years ago was in many ways about "taking back control" from a over-mighty, corrupt and centralizing elite, based in Rome. This movement also crossed the channel to England. It was the personal whims of Henry VIII rather than Martin Luther that eventually brought about the "English Reformation", and he came to see the power of the papacy in England as a direct threat to his own. One direct result of this was the dissolution of the monasteries, an act of barbarous, monarchical thievery masked behind faith. The febrile atmosphere in the country led to Protestant paranoia against Rome and its ally, Hapsburg Spain, and by the reign of Elizabeth, war.
By the time the Stuart kings came to the throne in the first half of the 17th century, Protestant paranoia had to be tamed. "Splendid Isolation" was also self-destructive. This resulted in a more nuanced and pragmatic approach by the Stuarts towards Catholic Spain and the "Papist" threat; it was a period of English "detente" towards Europe, where relations were improved and connections made. This went so far as leaving some English Protestants into thinking that James, and Charles in particular, were Papists in all but name. Their autocratic actions also fed the view that the Stuart kings were behaving far more like the Papist autocrats on the Continent than the more consensual rulers they had been led to believe in (regardless of the past reality of Henry VIII's reign).
It was this atmosphere of Protestant paranoia over a "Papist", foreign-minded king that led to the English Civil War. The king's forces, the Cavaliers, were seen as foppish, condescending autocrats, while parliament's forces, the Roundheads, were portrayed as sober-minded reformers. The resulting "Commonwealth" of the victorious Roundheads, however, rapidly turned into a virtual Puritan revolution. While the purpose of the Civil war was the restoration of parliament, it actually turned into the autocracy of Oliver Cromwell and his fellow Puritan Protestants where parliament was sidelined; a hard-line faction of parliament had taken control of the country and hijacked its fate. In the end, this situation couldn't last, and we had the Restoration not long after Cromwell's death.
The "new Puritanism"?
We seem to be repeating a variation on the same story centuries later.
Four hundred years ago, while Protestants in England were becoming fed up with James' indulgence of Hapsburg Spain, the seeds were also sown for the Thirty Years' War. This saw Hapsburg (and fellow-Papist) Austria fight against Protestants across the Holy Roman Empire. This Protestant "insurgency" against a centralizing autocracy devastated the heart of Europe.
Ironically, the Hapsburgs also had a part to play in Europe's coming-together after the Second World War. The Treaty Of Westphalia ended the Thirty Years' War and created a peace in Europe that lasted for generations; The Treaty of Rome created the framework for European peace and co-operation after the Second World war.
The Eurosceptics of today wouldn't have missed the historical irony (or implicit symbolism) of the framework for a centralised, European administration being signed in Rome. For the paranoid conspiracy theorists, the whole thing reeked of centuries-old autocratic "Papism", re-imagined in a modern setting. For the paranoid conspiracy theorists, Hapsburg hands even seemed be on the choice of Brussels (and Strasbourg) as its administrative centres; both cities that once were at the heart of "Papist" Austrian and Spanish Hapsburg lands. Belgium is still staunchly Catholic. Eurosceptics' paranoia that the European Union was simply a reconstituted Holy Roman Empire assailed against "democratizing" Protestantism would have been undimmed.
My point is not to argue if these ideas are based in fact (and regardless of any wider symbolism, European integration is a well-established fact); it is that these ideas have been used by paranoid Eurosceptics for the purpose of their own agenda. That agenda seems to be a form of economic and ideological "Puritanism": a kind of 21st century "Commonwealth", with all the potential upheaval that entails.
As with Protestants' suspicion of the allegiance of the Stuart kings of four hundred years ago, Eurosceptics of today would have had their paranoia fueled by the administrations of Blair and Cameron, who were both innately Euro-phile (and ironically, like James and Charles Stuart, both of Scottish stock). Like how Protestants of four hundred years ago would have yearned back to the times of the staunch Protestantism of Elizabeth, today's Eurosceptics yearn back to the certainties of the Thatcher era; another strong woman, they would say, who did not shy from battling Europe.
Like King James, Blair's fate seems to have been to repair relations with Europe, strained after years of quasi-isolation. He otherwise left a long legacy of mixed fortunes during his time in power. James's successor, Charles, took James' autocratic tendency even further, but with far less tact.
Cameron's political fate as the "heir to Blair", in a manner of speaking, also seemed to have gone the way of Charles'. Some of the historical parallels are striking. Foppish and condescending like Charles, Cameron's career at the top was a series of misjudgments. It was trouble with Scotland that started Charles' troubles with parliament in England; after recklessly thinking he had solved the trouble north of the border, Charles thought his troubles with parliament would as easily be solved. They were not, and neither were his troubles with Scotland. The same could be said of Cameron, when his "victory" over the Scottish referendum led him to think he could as easily solve the problem his own faction had with Europe. By acting in a condescending way towards his enemies and behaving like a reckless autocrat, Cameron's fate came to a messy political end.
After being defeated by the "Puritanical" Eurosceptic faction, Cameron was succeeded by Theresa May. The daughter of a vicar, she seemed to match the Brexit Puritans' demeanor for a mean-spirited, petty-minded form of government. In allowing a hostile political environment for the Eurosceptics' paranoia to grow unchecked, she seems to be continuing this inadvertent "reprise" of the mid-17th century narrative: as a female Cromwell, symbolic head of the Puritan "Brexit" revolution that sought to seek out and destroy the remaining vestiges of "Papist" Pro-Europeanism. For these modern Puritans, "Hard Brexit" is their version of the rapture, with their foreign-minded "Papist" enemies rightly deserving of their fate in the rhetorical flames.
The "Brexiteers" of today share the same paranoia towards the continent that the Protestant Puritans had four hundred years ago. The themes are the same, even if the European institutions they attack are different; once it was Rome that was the enemy, while now it is Brussels. As mentioned earlier, the sharper-eyed (and more conspiratorial) Eurosceptics may point to the symbolic "Papist connection" between Brussels and Rome.
Four hundred years ago, the Puritans' allies in Europe were to be found in the Lutheran states of Northern Europe, as they allied against Rome and its Hapsburg allies in Spain and Austria. Today, the "Brexiteers" find their allies in the Populist anti-European movements. These are ideological descendants to the anti-clerical Lutherans that fought against a centralizing Rome, except now their "centralizing" enemies are based in Brussels, with the support of Berlin and Paris.
This is the narrative that has overtaken Britain's politics. These are the "culture wars" that have been fought in the minds of Britain's population, on behalf of a "Puritan" Brexit agenda. The new "English Civil War" has already been fought in the form of the EU referendum: to continue the analogy, the foppish Pro-European "Cavaliers" lost, and the stern-minded Eurosceptic "Roundheads" won.
For the Brexit "Puritans", a new "Commonwealth" beckons; though what it means for everyone else, only time will tell.
Tuesday, October 24, 2017
Brexit: The Ultimate Blunder? How this is Theresa May's "Poll Tax"
The excellent book "The Blunders Of Our Governments" goes into great depth at how governments get things wrong, often with catastrophic results. The scale of the catastrophe just depends on the scale of the blunder.
One of the biggest (and most famous) "blunders" by any UK government in modern times was the Poll Tax. Looking at the sheer incompetence of how the government is managing its Brexit strategy, it's hard not to to draw parallels with how the Thatcher government blundered into a crisis entirely of its own making, and the current one. Some of the time scale over the issues - how it was a "slow burner" that gradually gained more and more inescapable momentum - also matches. To see how well the events of thirty years ago and today mirror each other, we'll have a look at the basics of what went wrong with the Poll Tax.
The idea of the Poll tax had its formation in the 1970s, thanks to think tanks that looked at "outside-of-the-box" solutions (mirroring what we see today with the government's Brexit strategy). The idea was one of a number of options at reforming "the rates", where council tax was paid only by those who owned property in the area. By early 1985, after the government had began its privatisation agenda, it looked in more detail at reforming local government and the system of "the rates", to make it equitable, so that everyone paid what was fair. In a famous meeting at Chequers, the Poll Tax was one of a few options put to the government, but by a series of interactions, some high-placed people in government saw the Poll Tax as the only true way to fully reform the system; all the other options seemed either unfair or meaningless half-measures. After a period of time, further discussions and discreet lobbying (also - looking at the practicality of the idea - from some in the civil service), it was in the end agreed that the only way for it to work was for a "big bang" implementation. In other words, having some kind of "transitional" arrangement was pointless and administratively confusing; much better to go straight from one system to the next, and iron out any potential glitches along the way. Those in government against all this (and there were a number of them) were silenced by the momentum that gradually built in favour of this radical reform; they were also quick to make their opposition well-known to others in government, to avoid any guilt by association.
Thus the Poll Tax was introduced through a combination of groupthink in government, as well as cultural disconnect. The problems (and the riots) are well-known. It now clear that the selfsame mistakes have took place with Brexit thirty years later, but now on a scale (and potential impact) many times greater.
Like with the Poll Tax, Brexit was a "slow-burner". Initially it was an issue with a small faction of the Conservative Party, some media hacks, editors and the like. But all these people had influence (and with that, gravitas) as well as money to back them up. Like with the Poll Tax, Brexit became an issue thanks to political events: where the Poll Tax came to be seen by Thatcher as a way to reform troublesome local councils, Brexit (or, at least, the initial offer of a referendum) came to be seen as way by Cameron to silence the hard-right in the party that were more ideological kin to UKIP. It took around five years (from the Chequers meeting in 1985 to it being implemented in 1990) for the Poll Tax to fully burst into life, warts and all. Brexit - if we call March 2019 its "implementation" - will have come to exist in the public sphere for a similar period, when the EU referendum was first promised by Cameron in early 2013. Like how the Poll Tax was ambushed on the rest of government, who were then hostages to its fate, Brexit made the same of Cameron, when the referendum made Brexit a reality. His successor, Theresa May, was then even more beholden to the hard-right ideologues in the party, even though she was not a fervent believer in the idea herself. As mentioned earlier with the Poll Tax, it was the desire for a "big bang", as well as the desire to make a radical reform, that led to the chaos of its implementation; the desire among some in government for a "Hard Brexit" without a transitional arrangement follows the same blinkered thinking that dismisses compromises such as staying in the EEA or EFTA as a "betrayal" of the cause. This stubbornness leaves the potential for heaven knows what kind of chaos to the UK economy come March 2019.
Once May succeeded Cameron as Prime Minister, Brexit took on a whole life of its own, like the Poll Tax did with the Thatcher government thirty years ago. Those who opposed the Poll Tax were seen as "wets" or lacking the boldness necessary for real reform; those now opposed to "Hard Brexit" are these days seen as "Remoaners" or saboteurs who are trying to undermine the government. This is the result of groupthink and cultural disconnect, as well as a deferential respect for those in authority, assuming that they must know what they are talking about . If anything, these issues are far worse this time around, given how high the stakes are. With the Poll Tax, those affected could (and many did) ignore their threatening letters from councils, which resulted in an eventual (partial) climb-down from the government; by contrast, the economy of the entire country is at stake thanks to the current "blunder", and the only way to escape it would be to flee abroad.
The Thatcher government had almost a "revolutionary" aura about it at times. Cameron's and May's government have been in some ways even more radical, and not in a good way. The desire for "reform" among the hard-right in government led to various ministers leading their departments as their own pet project. In a sense, Cameron's relaxed attitude to ministers pursuing their own agendas also led to scandal and scandal: the direct result of having an "experimental" government agenda.
This is what marks out the Conservative government of today as being different from earlier incarnations: whereas earlier governments took risks from time to time, the current government seem to actively encourage them. If you are not a risk-taker, it seems, then you lack the drive and radicalism necessary for the government's wider agenda. This kind of callous recklessness and shallow disregard for the wider consequences is unprecedented in any British government of modern times: it's almost as if they want things to fail. While some of it is down to the glaring incompetence of ministers, some of it can only be driven by the agenda of an amoral, manipulative few.
Thatcher's Poll Tax ultimately was a sign of the government losing the plot; it was only a change of Prime Minister, and a little luck, that allowed the Conservatives to stay in power for seven more years from its initial implementation disaster. A "Hard Brexit" would be a disaster on a scale a thousand times more disruptive; who knows what the political ramifications of that would be?
One of the biggest (and most famous) "blunders" by any UK government in modern times was the Poll Tax. Looking at the sheer incompetence of how the government is managing its Brexit strategy, it's hard not to to draw parallels with how the Thatcher government blundered into a crisis entirely of its own making, and the current one. Some of the time scale over the issues - how it was a "slow burner" that gradually gained more and more inescapable momentum - also matches. To see how well the events of thirty years ago and today mirror each other, we'll have a look at the basics of what went wrong with the Poll Tax.
The idea of the Poll tax had its formation in the 1970s, thanks to think tanks that looked at "outside-of-the-box" solutions (mirroring what we see today with the government's Brexit strategy). The idea was one of a number of options at reforming "the rates", where council tax was paid only by those who owned property in the area. By early 1985, after the government had began its privatisation agenda, it looked in more detail at reforming local government and the system of "the rates", to make it equitable, so that everyone paid what was fair. In a famous meeting at Chequers, the Poll Tax was one of a few options put to the government, but by a series of interactions, some high-placed people in government saw the Poll Tax as the only true way to fully reform the system; all the other options seemed either unfair or meaningless half-measures. After a period of time, further discussions and discreet lobbying (also - looking at the practicality of the idea - from some in the civil service), it was in the end agreed that the only way for it to work was for a "big bang" implementation. In other words, having some kind of "transitional" arrangement was pointless and administratively confusing; much better to go straight from one system to the next, and iron out any potential glitches along the way. Those in government against all this (and there were a number of them) were silenced by the momentum that gradually built in favour of this radical reform; they were also quick to make their opposition well-known to others in government, to avoid any guilt by association.
Thus the Poll Tax was introduced through a combination of groupthink in government, as well as cultural disconnect. The problems (and the riots) are well-known. It now clear that the selfsame mistakes have took place with Brexit thirty years later, but now on a scale (and potential impact) many times greater.
Like with the Poll Tax, Brexit was a "slow-burner". Initially it was an issue with a small faction of the Conservative Party, some media hacks, editors and the like. But all these people had influence (and with that, gravitas) as well as money to back them up. Like with the Poll Tax, Brexit became an issue thanks to political events: where the Poll Tax came to be seen by Thatcher as a way to reform troublesome local councils, Brexit (or, at least, the initial offer of a referendum) came to be seen as way by Cameron to silence the hard-right in the party that were more ideological kin to UKIP. It took around five years (from the Chequers meeting in 1985 to it being implemented in 1990) for the Poll Tax to fully burst into life, warts and all. Brexit - if we call March 2019 its "implementation" - will have come to exist in the public sphere for a similar period, when the EU referendum was first promised by Cameron in early 2013. Like how the Poll Tax was ambushed on the rest of government, who were then hostages to its fate, Brexit made the same of Cameron, when the referendum made Brexit a reality. His successor, Theresa May, was then even more beholden to the hard-right ideologues in the party, even though she was not a fervent believer in the idea herself. As mentioned earlier with the Poll Tax, it was the desire for a "big bang", as well as the desire to make a radical reform, that led to the chaos of its implementation; the desire among some in government for a "Hard Brexit" without a transitional arrangement follows the same blinkered thinking that dismisses compromises such as staying in the EEA or EFTA as a "betrayal" of the cause. This stubbornness leaves the potential for heaven knows what kind of chaos to the UK economy come March 2019.
Once May succeeded Cameron as Prime Minister, Brexit took on a whole life of its own, like the Poll Tax did with the Thatcher government thirty years ago. Those who opposed the Poll Tax were seen as "wets" or lacking the boldness necessary for real reform; those now opposed to "Hard Brexit" are these days seen as "Remoaners" or saboteurs who are trying to undermine the government. This is the result of groupthink and cultural disconnect, as well as a deferential respect for those in authority, assuming that they must know what they are talking about . If anything, these issues are far worse this time around, given how high the stakes are. With the Poll Tax, those affected could (and many did) ignore their threatening letters from councils, which resulted in an eventual (partial) climb-down from the government; by contrast, the economy of the entire country is at stake thanks to the current "blunder", and the only way to escape it would be to flee abroad.
The Thatcher government had almost a "revolutionary" aura about it at times. Cameron's and May's government have been in some ways even more radical, and not in a good way. The desire for "reform" among the hard-right in government led to various ministers leading their departments as their own pet project. In a sense, Cameron's relaxed attitude to ministers pursuing their own agendas also led to scandal and scandal: the direct result of having an "experimental" government agenda.
This is what marks out the Conservative government of today as being different from earlier incarnations: whereas earlier governments took risks from time to time, the current government seem to actively encourage them. If you are not a risk-taker, it seems, then you lack the drive and radicalism necessary for the government's wider agenda. This kind of callous recklessness and shallow disregard for the wider consequences is unprecedented in any British government of modern times: it's almost as if they want things to fail. While some of it is down to the glaring incompetence of ministers, some of it can only be driven by the agenda of an amoral, manipulative few.
Thatcher's Poll Tax ultimately was a sign of the government losing the plot; it was only a change of Prime Minister, and a little luck, that allowed the Conservatives to stay in power for seven more years from its initial implementation disaster. A "Hard Brexit" would be a disaster on a scale a thousand times more disruptive; who knows what the political ramifications of that would be?
Labels:
Brexit,
Cameron,
incompetence,
Margaret Thatcher,
Theresa May
Thursday, October 19, 2017
Brexit: the result of accumulated incompetence? Parallels with "Atlas Shrugged"
Following the government's strategy and "progress" with the Brexit negotiations, I was reminded of the plot to Ayn Rand's "Atlas Shrugged" (the author wrote a series of articles on this novel's symbolism).
Ayn Rand's original working title to this mammoth novel was "The Strike". The premise behind the story being: what would happen if all the smartest people refused to work? So the story follows as, one by one, various stalwarts of industry and other brains of American society begin to disappear, as the government of the day slowly takes greater and greater control of the economy. The process becomes self-reinforcing as the government takes up more of the slack left behind as more and more of the "best and brightest" disappear from public life. In the end, left with an over-bearing government led by a mass of collective incompetence, accidents become commonplace as the country literally begins to fall apart. The "best and brightest" finally reappear to save the nation from itself when the government loses control of the situation completely. The reader is left with the implication that these "best and brightest" will then restore the country under a new system where the government is entirely absent from any role in the economy and the public sphere.
The story reads as an indictment on "government" as a whole, as an autocratic system which feeds incompetence and inefficiency; the opposite to how the private sector is meant to be ran. While I'm no fan of Ayn Rand, following the government's handling of Brexit, it's hard not to draw (ironic) parallels with their rank incompetence and descent into chaos, and that of the government portrayed in "Atlas Shrugged". In the same way as the "best and brightest" fled from their posts in light of the fictitious government's actions, the same seems to be true of various parts of industry in the UK during the Brexit process.
Most of industry warned during the referendum campaign that to leave the EU would be bad for the British economy; now that the government seems to be lurching towards leaving the EU with no deal at all, some giants of the economy are reminding the government in stark terms of their own economic interests. If the government pursues this course to leave with no deal in March 2019, they will be forced to make their own "contingency plans": put simply, they will up sticks and leave the sinking ship as quickly as possible. While the UK will leave the EU in March 2019, big business - and the financial sector in particular - need clarity far sooner: no later than the end of this year, to give them time to make adequate preparations. Similarly, Britain's airline industry needs to know what the "deal" will be no later than March 2018, to make suitable preparations. The government's incompetence and incoherence has been given very short shrift, and will result in real consequences much more quickly than they think. The initial effects of Brexit on the economy may be only a few months away; a harbinger of what is to come.
Since the referendum, it also feels as though all those who supported "Remain" (i.e. much of the intelligentsia) have been quelled into silence by the febrile and menacing feel in the public sphere; like how many "captains of industry" are making contingency plans to flee with their assets, large parts of the intelligentsia have seem to have gone AWOL. It's no coincidence that some of those have also applied for (Irish) EU passports, perhaps to better enable their own flight after Brexit. While the intelligentsia have absented themselves from the discourse (perhaps seeing how impossible it is to reason with incompetents), the country descends into madness. It seems as though industry and the intelligentsia are getting their excuses in early, as if to say "we warned you; you didn't listen. It's not our fault".
The irony here is how the government's agenda is being guided by those who are huge supporters of Ayn Rand's ideology; it is almost as if they want the government to be led by incompetents (as in the plot of "Atlas Shrugged") - to bring about the economy's collapse, and allow them to take over.
A failure of government
The EU can see how badly the country is being ran, and its strategy now with Theresa May seems almost one of pity. Unfortunately this seems as doomed to fail as any other strategy, for as much as May and her government completely misunderstand how the EU works, the EU seems to equally misunderstand how the Conservative Party works. The EU tries to "make nice" with May over the possibility of a deal (by - wrongly - thinking that this positive mood music will encourage May into making the necessary concessions); meanwhile, May is encouraged to see any sign of "flexibility" on the EU's part as a sign that they are willing to make concessions, so sees no need to give ground. So both sides seem to be feeding each other with false hopes of a deal, to encourage the other to make the kind of concessions which may well be politically impossible. Both sides are in a bind - a kind of "Gordian Knot" of epic proportions.
May may well go down as one of the worst Prime Ministers the country has ever known, certainly in modern times. Her personal characteristics seem to work against the process gaining any momentum at home. To begin with, she has autocratic tendencies, to the extent that any serious debate over the issues is knocked down. This has led to the extraordinary situation where there has been - now sixteen months on from the referendum, and nearly seven months on from invoking article 50 - still no proper debate in government about what its actual Brexit aims are. All that has been said so far is woolly rhetoric to paper over the vast differences in government. The EU doesn't know what the UK government wants because the UK government itself doesn't know what it wants. It is truly astonishing that May could trigger article 50 for the start of negotiations without her government having a clue what its final position was.
This is partly due to the weakness of May's position as well; even when her government had a majority, she was loathe to start a proper debate on Brexit that would lead to open differences in government. The result is that the open differences have surfaced anyway, because she has done nothing to diminish them. Now her government doesn't even have a majority, this has made those differences even more apparent, with the loudest voices from the "Hard Brexiteers" carrying the most sway. In the same way that the intelligentsia have largely gone AWOL in the country at large, in the Conservative Party, the most rational voices have been silenced by the headbangers. And while this goes on, Theresa May sits in Downing Street and does nothing, as she is too weak to act: a hostage to fortune.
It is May's position as a mere "caretaker" presiding over this chaos that fatally diminishes the prestige of the role of Prime Minister of the UK.
This all feels like the inevitable result of the gradual degradation of the quality of political discourse in Britain.
There was a time when politics was inhabited by people of intellect, with ideas and (some) moral standing. John Major may not have been an intellectual giant, but he at least seemed to possess an aura of integrity. Tony Blair may have had an ambiguous moral compass (e.g. Iraq), but at least he was smart, and improved the state of the nation overall. (Doctor) Gordon Brown may have had his flaws, but when the financial crisis happened, he did the right thing at the right time, by saving the economy from imminent implosion.
David Cameron was a sign of the things to come. He treated politics as a game, even to the point of playing with his country's own future. He thought he was smart, but he was merely "lucky"; until his luck ran out. He filled his cabinet with similar chancers like George Osborne, and the rest with people whose loyalty or affiliations were more important than their rank incompetence. Theresa May was so long-standing in her position as Home Secretary for the same reason.
It is this gradual but self-evident decline in the quality of Britain's politics that led to Brexit in the first place: it's what happens when the establishment is left to rule though passive compliance. UKIP's incoherent ideology was allowed to take over the political discourse; the result now is that the government has copied its core agenda almost in its entirety and it's treating our democratic institutions as a complete joke. The government now thinks that democracy is a system where you can ignore the opinions of the people you don't agree with; they think the judgments of experts can be ignored if they disagree with their own prejudices.
If you're not worried, you're not paying attention.
Ayn Rand's original working title to this mammoth novel was "The Strike". The premise behind the story being: what would happen if all the smartest people refused to work? So the story follows as, one by one, various stalwarts of industry and other brains of American society begin to disappear, as the government of the day slowly takes greater and greater control of the economy. The process becomes self-reinforcing as the government takes up more of the slack left behind as more and more of the "best and brightest" disappear from public life. In the end, left with an over-bearing government led by a mass of collective incompetence, accidents become commonplace as the country literally begins to fall apart. The "best and brightest" finally reappear to save the nation from itself when the government loses control of the situation completely. The reader is left with the implication that these "best and brightest" will then restore the country under a new system where the government is entirely absent from any role in the economy and the public sphere.
The story reads as an indictment on "government" as a whole, as an autocratic system which feeds incompetence and inefficiency; the opposite to how the private sector is meant to be ran. While I'm no fan of Ayn Rand, following the government's handling of Brexit, it's hard not to draw (ironic) parallels with their rank incompetence and descent into chaos, and that of the government portrayed in "Atlas Shrugged". In the same way as the "best and brightest" fled from their posts in light of the fictitious government's actions, the same seems to be true of various parts of industry in the UK during the Brexit process.
Most of industry warned during the referendum campaign that to leave the EU would be bad for the British economy; now that the government seems to be lurching towards leaving the EU with no deal at all, some giants of the economy are reminding the government in stark terms of their own economic interests. If the government pursues this course to leave with no deal in March 2019, they will be forced to make their own "contingency plans": put simply, they will up sticks and leave the sinking ship as quickly as possible. While the UK will leave the EU in March 2019, big business - and the financial sector in particular - need clarity far sooner: no later than the end of this year, to give them time to make adequate preparations. Similarly, Britain's airline industry needs to know what the "deal" will be no later than March 2018, to make suitable preparations. The government's incompetence and incoherence has been given very short shrift, and will result in real consequences much more quickly than they think. The initial effects of Brexit on the economy may be only a few months away; a harbinger of what is to come.
Since the referendum, it also feels as though all those who supported "Remain" (i.e. much of the intelligentsia) have been quelled into silence by the febrile and menacing feel in the public sphere; like how many "captains of industry" are making contingency plans to flee with their assets, large parts of the intelligentsia have seem to have gone AWOL. It's no coincidence that some of those have also applied for (Irish) EU passports, perhaps to better enable their own flight after Brexit. While the intelligentsia have absented themselves from the discourse (perhaps seeing how impossible it is to reason with incompetents), the country descends into madness. It seems as though industry and the intelligentsia are getting their excuses in early, as if to say "we warned you; you didn't listen. It's not our fault".
The irony here is how the government's agenda is being guided by those who are huge supporters of Ayn Rand's ideology; it is almost as if they want the government to be led by incompetents (as in the plot of "Atlas Shrugged") - to bring about the economy's collapse, and allow them to take over.
A failure of government
The EU can see how badly the country is being ran, and its strategy now with Theresa May seems almost one of pity. Unfortunately this seems as doomed to fail as any other strategy, for as much as May and her government completely misunderstand how the EU works, the EU seems to equally misunderstand how the Conservative Party works. The EU tries to "make nice" with May over the possibility of a deal (by - wrongly - thinking that this positive mood music will encourage May into making the necessary concessions); meanwhile, May is encouraged to see any sign of "flexibility" on the EU's part as a sign that they are willing to make concessions, so sees no need to give ground. So both sides seem to be feeding each other with false hopes of a deal, to encourage the other to make the kind of concessions which may well be politically impossible. Both sides are in a bind - a kind of "Gordian Knot" of epic proportions.
May may well go down as one of the worst Prime Ministers the country has ever known, certainly in modern times. Her personal characteristics seem to work against the process gaining any momentum at home. To begin with, she has autocratic tendencies, to the extent that any serious debate over the issues is knocked down. This has led to the extraordinary situation where there has been - now sixteen months on from the referendum, and nearly seven months on from invoking article 50 - still no proper debate in government about what its actual Brexit aims are. All that has been said so far is woolly rhetoric to paper over the vast differences in government. The EU doesn't know what the UK government wants because the UK government itself doesn't know what it wants. It is truly astonishing that May could trigger article 50 for the start of negotiations without her government having a clue what its final position was.
This is partly due to the weakness of May's position as well; even when her government had a majority, she was loathe to start a proper debate on Brexit that would lead to open differences in government. The result is that the open differences have surfaced anyway, because she has done nothing to diminish them. Now her government doesn't even have a majority, this has made those differences even more apparent, with the loudest voices from the "Hard Brexiteers" carrying the most sway. In the same way that the intelligentsia have largely gone AWOL in the country at large, in the Conservative Party, the most rational voices have been silenced by the headbangers. And while this goes on, Theresa May sits in Downing Street and does nothing, as she is too weak to act: a hostage to fortune.
It is May's position as a mere "caretaker" presiding over this chaos that fatally diminishes the prestige of the role of Prime Minister of the UK.
This all feels like the inevitable result of the gradual degradation of the quality of political discourse in Britain.
There was a time when politics was inhabited by people of intellect, with ideas and (some) moral standing. John Major may not have been an intellectual giant, but he at least seemed to possess an aura of integrity. Tony Blair may have had an ambiguous moral compass (e.g. Iraq), but at least he was smart, and improved the state of the nation overall. (Doctor) Gordon Brown may have had his flaws, but when the financial crisis happened, he did the right thing at the right time, by saving the economy from imminent implosion.
David Cameron was a sign of the things to come. He treated politics as a game, even to the point of playing with his country's own future. He thought he was smart, but he was merely "lucky"; until his luck ran out. He filled his cabinet with similar chancers like George Osborne, and the rest with people whose loyalty or affiliations were more important than their rank incompetence. Theresa May was so long-standing in her position as Home Secretary for the same reason.
It is this gradual but self-evident decline in the quality of Britain's politics that led to Brexit in the first place: it's what happens when the establishment is left to rule though passive compliance. UKIP's incoherent ideology was allowed to take over the political discourse; the result now is that the government has copied its core agenda almost in its entirety and it's treating our democratic institutions as a complete joke. The government now thinks that democracy is a system where you can ignore the opinions of the people you don't agree with; they think the judgments of experts can be ignored if they disagree with their own prejudices.
If you're not worried, you're not paying attention.
Labels:
Atlas Shrugged,
Ayn Rand,
Brexit,
incompetence,
Theresa May,
UKIP
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