The Face of Modern Hatred in the US

While waiting at O'Hare recently, I made the mistake of walking into a bookstore to spend some time. (I don't have gold status with any frequent flyer program, since I fly so little, so I can't wait in a lounge.) I call it a mistake, because I'm almost incapable of walking into a bookstore without buying anything, but I usually promptly forgive myself for splurging on books with such a small budget, because the books I buy were very important. This time I walked out with Christian Fascists by Chris Hedges and Blink by Malcolm Gladwell, author of The Tipping Point. Blink was very intresting (and explains why I am unable to explain consciously why I do not want to be alone with a co-worker, but feel very strongly about it), but Christian Fascists triggered some third-culture associations between America and European Neonazis. Hedges is what I think of as a "normal" Christian, the kind that one can have as a neighbor without further complications. The kind I have no problem with. He is a graduate of Harvard Divinity School and actually recieved his first warning against religiously clad totalitarianism there, from a German professor who had seen the rise of National Socialism (funny how der Nationalsozialismus pops up in my head there, along with images of "NSDAP" spraypainted on walls) first-hand. Hedges is a moderate Christian who does (or at least attempts to) what Sam Harris says in The End of Faith is not possible: attack religious extremism from within.

Perhaps Harris writes from the point of view of someone who has lived in a place of mired in religious literalism and authoritarianism that imagining a culture where interpretation of religous texts is culturally mandatory. Harris is probably right in saying that religious moderates have taken values and ideas that are not strictly speaking religious when they interpret their religion. However, I think that in practice what matters is the cultural force of the value, not strictly speaking where it came from. However, here in the US, "primacy" of religious ideas is an idea with tremendous cultural force. Culturally speaking, trying to make an argument here for why literalism and conservatism (in the original, literal, general sense) are not good approaches to religion is as futile as trying to make an argument about the benefits of lowering taxes in Sweden. Forget it. You may find individuals who will admit, in private, that you at least have a point worth considering, and occasionally even someone who agrees. But public admission of such ideas is socially unwise, except in very select company. But swap the arguments between the two cultures - and you will instantly have broad support. Truth is socially - and therefore culturally - constructed. Harris's argument may well be functionally correct for the US, where a cultural change is probably necessary to allow religious moderates freedom of religion without also sanctifying religious extremism. It would have to become truth that literalism is incoherent, even from a religious point of view. This doesn't seem likely. But perhaps globally speaking, one can have faith without extremism, but only in cultures where truth limits religious fundamentalists from gaining legitimacy. Harris can certainly be forgiven for missing this; even I find it difficult to remember sometimes, in the middle of being flustered.

Anyway, back to the original subject. Hedges writes explicitly and clearly about a feeling I've had, and I believe a friend of mine also has had: that the American Christian Right feels a lot like the European Far Right. I get the same cold feeling from both. Of course, accusing people of being pseudo-members of the Far Right is very serious. Very serious indeed. I've dismissed it consciously, because they seem rather different in many ways. Fascism is part of Europe's past, and its past imagery and circumstances feel very different from the US. How can you say "Auslander raus!" when the country is built on immigration? How can you appeal to pastoral images of national dress and national music when there are none, at least none that are seen as such? These features of the US would even seem as guarantors of that fascism cannot rise here. But Hedges points out what should have been obvious: if fascism were to rise outside Europe, it would appeal to local traditions. He cites Robert Paxton (from Anatomy of Fascism): "[The language and symbols of an authentic American fasicsm] would have to be as familiar and reassuring to loyal Americans as the language and symbols of the original fascisms were familiar and reassuring to many Italians and Germans, as Orwell suggested. Hitler and Mussolini, after all, had not tried to seem exotic to their fellow citizens. No swastikas in American fascism, but Stars and Stripes (or Stars and Bars) and Christian crosses. No fascist salute, but mass recitations of the Pledge of Allegiance. These symbols contain no whiff of fascism in themselves, of course, but an American fascism would transform them into obligatory litmus tests for detecting the internal enemy."

Right in the beginning of the book, Hedges has a short text on Ur-Fascism by Umberto Eco. It's a simple list of what fascists have in common, with some explanations and examples. Here is the list.

1. Cult of tradition - truth has already been spelled out once and for all
2. Rejection of modernism and above all reason
3. Cult of action for action's sake - thinking is a form of emasculation
4. Disagreement is treason, because you have to think to disagree, and thinking falls under 3.
5. Exploits and exacerbates fear of difference - racism is built in
6. Derives from individual or social frustration
7. To those who feel deprived of a clear social identity, Ur-Fascism says that their only privilege is to be born in the same country - nationalism + obsession with a plot against the country by people with insider/outsider status (Jews are the eternal favorite, but perhaps Arab-Americans could work?)
8. Followers feel humiliated by the ostentatious wealth and force of their enemies - but construe their "enemies" to be at once too strong and too weak
9. Life is lived for struggle - pacifism is trafficking with the enemy - life is permanent warfare
10. Popular elitism - every citizen belongs to the best people in the world
11. Everyone is educated to become a hero/martyr - the Ur-Fascist hero is impatient to die, but in his (gendered pronoun intentional) impatience, he often sends others to die instead.
12. Since both permanent war and heroism are difficult games to play, the Ur-Fascist transfers his will to power to sexual matters - playing with weapons becomes a phallic ersatz exercise
13. Individuals as individuals have no rights, and the People are a monolithic entity with a Common Will.
14. Ur-Fascism speaks Newspeak.

Hedges goes into deeper discussion of these points in the book, of course, but I recognize just about every one of these qualities in the American Christian (Far) Right. He argues that the movement is not yet revolutionary, but if a disaster happens to increase individual or social frunstration, it may cross the line to becoming so.

This list is like a vocalization of what about the Christian Far Right makes me feel so cold. It's the ideas that life is war, the prominence of guns, and fierce nationalism put together with soothing statements of that they are virtuous. God, guts and guns may appeal to many Americans, but that's exactly what makes that combination so potentially dangerous. I feel like I need defending from these people. And that may be why, much earlier in the Bush presidency, I had flashes of planning how to exit the US as quickly as possible if necessary. I've even felt better knowing that I am a foreign passport holder - if they try to stop me at the border, I have a better chance of making a stink about it than an American citizen. If the borders close, I have to be one of the few who make it out, one of the foreigners who ride out on their citizenship, leaving behind the poor citizens of Whateveristan to the cruel hands of their government.

It sounds rather drastic, I'm sure. I'm a bit surprised myself, that I've thought of this, and more than once. Justified or not, these thoughts are linked to the Nazi Germany, to the Soviet Union, the Revolution in China, and the invasion of the Japanese, in different ways. These modern people in the US make me associate to some of the darker moments in human history. When I was little, hiking in the Swedish mountains, my mother and father said that if the Soviets ever invaded, we could flee on foot across the border to Norway. Perhaps that idea stuck.

But if America has even some fascist leanings, it could have consequences far beyond even this current misguided so-called war in Iraq. I'd really rather not think those thoughts out all the way, because this country is sitting on so many nuclear weapons that I feel radioactive already just thinking about them in fascist hands. Perhaps I should learn a few Bible quotes, so I can masquerade as a proper "Bible-believing Christian" should they feel that the Apocalypse needs speeding up.