“You Owe Me An Apology!”

A passing thought:

Women are often constructed to bare their slights in silence.

It makes sense, right?

The systems which enable so many grievances – be it casual harassment, discourses on irrational hysteria, prejudices against the economic worth of baby carriers, rape (there is seemingly no end to this list) – hardly responds well to women who challenge it, speak back to it, call it out. Neither do men in power respond well to being told they are privileged – that some part of their success is unearned – and the risks are great; they are powerful for a reason. They can hinder you, harass you, marshal the status quo against you.

And in America?!

Even with my maleness, my class privilege, my education, my physicality, my confidence, pride, aplomb; I can’t honestly say, with much assurance, that I would talk back.

To even consider listing the injustices towards black people seems futile. To even contemplate a list of injustices towards black women makes my head hurt.

And in America?!

No “Western” nation can claim to have transcended its caste structures, but in America… Well, I don’t understand why much of the rest of the world has not offered African Americans refugee status (I mean not to suggest they should vacate their country and home, only that the freedom to do so, and the recognition of their justifications, should be readily available.)

Extraordinary as she is, Serena Williams nonetheless showed something quite remarkable on the 8th of September. She did something she was not supposed to. She overrode the system. She spoke, loudly, and with words I hope will capture the hearts of our angry young generation. With words I hope, more importantly, will speak to every black girl whose hair has been made fun of, to every black teen told her bursary is unearned tokenism, to every black woman bedevilled by colleagues who assume her promiscuous:

“You Owe Me An Apology!”

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“Sure looks a lot like conservatism” by Didier Fassin

Macron

Sometimes you just can’t say it better.

For those currently harbouring illusions about Macron or the future of France, here is Didier Fassin’s LRB piece in response to Sophie Pedder’s fawning hagiography “Revolution Française: Emmanuel Macron and the Quest to Reinvent a Nation” (The Economist, quelle surprise).

Not unlike his political alter egos – self-proclaimed progressives such as Obama and Trudeau – Macron has proven himself an expert showman and mountebank, an authoritarian and ‘president of the rich’, hiding in plain sight behind identitarian rhetoric and intelligent public relations.

Front National never stood a chance of winning in 2017. Will we be able to say the same in 2022?

Enjoy:

Didier Fassin, ‘Sure looks a lot like Conservatism’

Fascism: I sometimes fear…

In lieu of any original thought, today can be a quote day, compliments of Michael Rosen [http://michaelrosenblog.blogspot.com]. Enjoy:

 
I sometimes fear that
people think that fascism arrives in fancy dress
worn by grotesques and monsters
as played out in endless re-runs of the Nazis.

Fascism arrives as your friend.
It will restore your honour,
make you feel proud,
protect your house,
give you a job,
clean up the neighbourhood,
remind you of how great you once were,
clear out the venal and the corrupt,
remove anything you feel is unlike you…

It doesn’t walk in saying,
“Our programme means militias, mass imprisonments, transportations, war and persecution.”

 

  • Michael Rosen

Alla sätt är bra utom de dåliga.

Adlai Stevenson once said, “It is far easier to fight for principles than to live up to them”. It is with this in mind, combined with some observations from the Anglicans (forever burning the path in degeneration), that I would like to suggest the unconventional.

Yesterday’s vote left Sweden in something of a bind, rarely seen in a country of stable bloc politics. The Left gained 40.6% of the vote, whilst the Right (Alliance) gained 40.2. Neither can form a majority because 17.6% of the vote went to the Swedish Democrats – making them the third biggest party (and only a couple points off being the second).

These fresh-faced new upstarts bring a youthful dynamism to a stale political climate of blocs who only seem able to agree on two things: that they have no vision for the future of Sweden and that they must form a cordon sanitaire around the SDs, who are too radical (exciting) and too anti-establishment (more exciting still) to be dealt with (though the Alliance has even fractured on this latter consensus in recent years).

From their privileged position of powerlessness, the SDs have all the benefits so commonly enjoyed by protest groups. They have no track record to be criticised. Their views and policies have never been seen to fail. Their rhetoric is all a voter has to go on and that rhetoric can be proud, carelessly fool hardy and fierce. “It is far easier to fight for principles than to live up to them”.

So where does Sweden go from here?

Some, such as the newspaper Expressen, have advocated for a German-style Grand Coalition between the Social Democrats and the Moderates. However, there are very serious problems with this idea. Firstly, they do not have enough votes between them, meaning such a coalition would need additional partners, further complicating the issue. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, knuckling down on the Third Way centrism which led us to this shit-laden crossroad will surely condemn us in 2022.

In The Power of Nightmares, Adam Curtis eloquently and convincingly explains how, following the end of the Cold War, the “end of history” and the ascension of neoliberalism as the unchallenged order, elites – and their fawning mouthpieces known as our politicians – no longer sought to win our votes with dreams but, rather, sought to intimidate us with nightmares. “Quell your dissatisfaction with us”, they said, “we are keeping the monsters from your door-step”. And so ‘the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must’.

Three decades and the Great Recession later, the dissatisfaction is far past its breaking point. Inequality has transformed from a new phenomenon in Swedish society to a tiresome cliché and, while the economy is perhaps the most prosperous in the world, wages have lagged productivity.

In a country which values tranquil communities and solidarity, the party most fundamental to its history – the Social Democrats – have pushed for austerity measures which splits burdens unequally. Schools and hospitals – the foundations upon which Swedish competitiveness is built – have suffered so that asset prices can be shored up.

Three decades on, we shouldn’t be surprised that, while establishment parties promised more of the same and attempted to fear-monger populations who have less and less to fear, one of the defining traits of VoteLeave, Trump, the SDs is that their messages were positive [http://blogs.lse.ac.uk/brexit/2016/08/19/how-leave-won-twitter-an-analysis-of-7-5m-brexit-related-tweets/].

Betray your pretence of principles further, form an unhappy and goalless coalition, and you will not be asking the SDs to form a coalition with you in 2022, they will be asking you to form one with them. The Moderates already appear to have suffered from the December Agreement, when they conceded power to the Left in 2014.

There are two alternatives. The first is an extreme form of minority government led by the Centre Party. As Nicholas Aylott puts is, ‘When you play the game of thrones in Sweden you don’t win, you form a minority government’ [thelocal.se]. Despite only having around 9% of the vote, they may yet take the premier mantle in a “negative” system where the candidate does not need to show that it has a majority supporting it but merely that it doesn’t have a majority against it. This, and the painstaking legislative negotiations which would have to take place on everything, is an interesting alternative for compromise but also runs the risk of Grand-Coalition-esque legislative stagnation.

There is another alternative.

The city council of Hässleholm (Skåne län), is divided into three factions — a centre-left one with just under half the votes, a centre-right one with a quarter, and the Sweden Democrats with a quarter. Each group used to vote for its own budget, all but guaranteeing the centre-left stayed in power. In 2017, however, the centre-right and Sweden Democrats teamed up to push the centre-left out.

Then it started to go wrong for the SDs. Ulf Erlandsson, the first Sweden Democrat to become deputy chair of a municipal council, was forced to resign almost immediately following various scandals including sharing racist articles on social media. Douglas Roth, the centre-right chair of the council, called the populists “not serious” for their constant linking of everything to immigration. “The problem with them is that if we want to tarmac the road outside, they say we can’t do it because there are immigrants here”. Mr Jonsson, the new SD deputy chair in the city, is frank about the implications of the city’s experiment. “Hässleholm is an example of what we could be — and also what can go wrong if you co-operate with the Sweden Democrats”. [ft.com]

So, this is my suggestion. A darkness imbedded in this society has emerged and is knocking at your door, let it in.

Exclusion gives them the claim to persecution. Exclusion is to stare fixedly out the window, hands over your ears, while they kick down the door and start lighting matches over the kindling of your house. Instead, give them a room. Then give them a spreadsheet of your accounts and investment projects, and watch the wet patches emerge around their groins.

It can be hard for politicians to have faith in their convictions but easier, perhaps, for civil society. We must have faith. Their budget does not add up, many of their economic policies are utterly ruinous – particularly for the base they have so insincerely pandered towards, and they have all the intellectual clout you would expect from a motley crew of skinheads, incels, and inbreeds.

Look at Trump: Since attaining high office, he has brought the worst of American society out of the darkness and into the light. He has shone a beacon upon all that is wrong, personified it, revealed its threat, its corruption, its stupidity, its inadequacy. He has sparked civil movements like America has never seen, provided nitrous gas to the Social Democrats, lost the Republicans Ala-fucking-bama, and, come November, may have lost the House – in a system so gerrymandered it should have been impossible.

“We cannot change anything until we accept it. Condemnation does not liberate, it oppresses”. Like it or not, the SDs have a legitimate fifth of the vote and the anxieties and truths they speak to must be addressed. Of course, Carl Jung was referring to an individual’s inner demons but, I would posit, in inviting the SDs in, we may (as Trump has inadvertently done), not only show them for the feckless brats they are but bring all our ugly trolls out of the dark and forgotten corners of the house.

Of course, it is easy for me to say this knowing full well that, due to the colour of my skin and almost every other aspect of my identity, it is not I who will suffer from SD lay judges or any cretinous policies they may enact. It is not I who will be victimised by the greater confidence given to racists in the street. However, if the German Social Democrats or the British Liberal Democrats (remember them? me neither) can attest to anything, it is that junior coalition partners fair far worse than they succeed – even when they are made up of competent politicians.

Finns det hjärterum så finns det stjärterum

 

I am not yet born; O hear me.
Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the
club-footed ghoul come near me.

I am not yet born, console me.
I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me,
with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me,
on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me.

I am not yet born; provide me
With water to dandle me, grass to grow for me, trees to talk
to me, sky to sing to me, birds and a white light
in the back of my mind to guide me.

I am not yet born; forgive me
For the sins that in me the world shall commit, my words
when they speak me, my thoughts when they think me,
my treason engendered by traitors beyond me,
my life when they murder by means of my
hands, my death when they live me.

I am not yet born; rehearse me
In the parts I must play and the cues I must take when
old men lecture me, bureaucrats hector me, mountains
frown at me, lovers laugh at me, the white
waves call me to folly and the desert calls
me to doom and the beggar refuses
my gift and my children curse me.

I am not yet born; O hear me,
Let not the man who is beast or who thinks he is God
come near me.

I am not yet born; O fill me
With strength against those who would freeze my
humanity, would dragoon me into a lethal automaton,
would make me a cog in a machine, a thing with
one face, a thing, and against all those
who would dissipate my entirety, would
blow me like thistledown hither and
thither or hither and thither
like water held in the
hands would spill me.

Let them not make me a stone and let them not spill me.
Otherwise kill me.

  • Louis MacNeice

Det ligger en hund begraven

 

It is the 21st of August and I am walking around Lund when I come across the political party stalls in the main square.

I couldn’t stop sizing up the boy behind the Swedish Democrats’ stall. They always look the same. They always look the same.

Greased back hair or topknot (in this case the former), average height, average-to-good looks, undoubtedly average brains, undoubtedly succeeding off the back of privilege.

Privilege combined with a desperate need to maintain it are the defining features of the Swedish Democrats. These are not the unreconstructed racists of my homeland – who look to ethnically exclusive patria because it promises to restore their honour, make them strong again, fulfill the empty promises of Great Britain. The Swedish Democrats do not have this excuse of wretchedness. They are not the downtrodden losers of globalisation and neoliberalism. They are not a “silent majority”.

The Swedish Democrat grew up in a middle-class Stockholm suburb and went to a school on the right side of the railway tracks. They are from the same neighbourhoods as the centre-right Moderates but, as children, they were more likely to have their heads flushed down a school toilet by Frederik Reinfeldt than to have been “one of the gang”. Their mother told them they were marvelous. Their father told them the progressive tax system was theft. They read Atlas Shrugged and couldn’t tell it was nonsense philosophy and terrible literature. They read Christopher Hitchens and Sam Harris and convinced themselves they were being progressive and liberal in hating muslim men and speaking on behalf of muslim women they had never met.

However much they may foster his support, do not be fooled – the Swedish Democrat is not the struggling Charlie Bucket, anxious over his Grandpa’s pension. He is a cross between glutenous Augustus Gloop and spoiled brat Veruca Salt. He is driven less by the belief “there isn’t enough room” as by a sense of injustice that the feminists have told the pretty girls at school not to tolerate his gross, “laddish” behaviour; a sense of fear that beauty ideals are broadening beyond his preference; a sense of fear because he knows he’s not as fiercely entrepreneurial as the multilingual immigrant who grafted across desert and ocean to be here; a sense of fear.

The Swedish Democrats are not an example of populists speaking to huddled masses. They are not Trump, they are Paul Ryan. They are libertarian, social darwinists who exemplify how progress always feels like oppression to the privileged.

I pray Charlie can see what I see. He has much to be anxious about – change has been forced upon him by cosmopolitans who do not share his values or seem to comprehend his truth. But, though weakened by fools, he must not become prey to wolves.

SDU