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  • Christian Thorne — Immanuel Kant’s Manifesto for Dad Rock (Review of Nicholas Brown’s Autonomy: The Social Ontology of Art under Capitalism)

    Christian Thorne — Immanuel Kant’s Manifesto for Dad Rock (Review of Nicholas Brown’s Autonomy: The Social Ontology of Art under Capitalism)

    This article is part of a forthcoming special issue of CLCWeb: Comparative Literature and Culture, dedicated to Nicholas Brown’s book, Autonomy: The Social Ontology of Art Under Capitalism, edited by Mathias Nilges.

    By Christian Thorne

    Review of Nicholas Brown, Autonomy: The Social Ontology of Art under Capitalism (Duke, 2019)

    If there is one point that should be reasonably clear to anyone who has read “The Culture Industry” (1947/2002), it is that Adorno and Horkheimer do not reject popular culture. That essay, it’s true, gives us reasons to question any number of things that we typically hold dear: free time (for being unfree time, nearly as programmed as the work from which it nominally releases us) (104), laughter (for being the consolation prize you get for not having a life worth living) (112), style (for funneling all social and historical content into a pre-arranged matrix or inflexible scheme of aesthetic quirks and twitches; for holding out the promise of artistic individualism—the personal signature in literature or music—and then transposing this into its opposite, the iterative, unresponsive art-machine) (100ff). Most of us remember “The Culture Industry” as anti-pop’s cahier de doléance, its encyclopedia of anathema, the night in which all bêtes sont noires. But alongside the essay’s admittedly austere bill of grievances, it is easy enough to compile a second list, an inventory of things that Adorno and Horkheimer say they like and suggest we might admire: Charlie Chaplin, the Marx Brothers (109), Greta Garbo (106), the circus (114), old cartoons, Felix the Cat (maybe), Gertie the Dinosaur (perhaps), Betty Boop (for sure, because they name her) (106). Just to be clear: “The Culture Industry,” Exhibit A in any case against critical theory’s Left elitism, is also the essay in which Adorno attacks Mozart while praising “stunt films,” which we might more idiomatically translate as “Jackie Chan.” One can thus cite authentically Adornian precedence for an attitude that distrusts classical music and celebrates kung fu movies, and this will be hard to believe only if you prefer a critical theory shorn of its dialectics, stripped of the contradictory judgments that thought renders upon contradictory material—only, that is, if you prefer the Adorno of joke Twitter feeds and scowling author photos: bald, moon-faced, a Central European frown emoji inexplicably mad at his own piano. One suspects that readers have generally refused to take seriously the essay’s central category. For the culture industry is neither an epithet nor a gratuitously Marxist synonym for popular culture, but rather a different concept, distorted every time we paraphrase it in that other, more comfortable idiom, as a calumny upon pop culture or pop. There is plenty of evidence, in the essay itself, that Adorno and Horkheimer were drawing distinctions between forms of popular culture, and not just pitting the Glenn Miller Orchestra against Alban Berg.

    Such, then, is one way of taking the measure of Nicholas Brown’s Autonomy (2019). This is one of those books that you might have thought no-one could write anymore: four chapters that mean to restate the old, left-wing case for art, unapologetically named as such, as the artwork—and not as text or culture or cultural production—the idea being that art represents the survival of independent human activity under conditions hostile to such a thing. No longer homogenized under those master terms, art can again take as its rival entertainment, a word whose German equivalent derives from the verb unterhalten, which even English speakers can tell means “to hold under,” as though movies and TV shows existed to keep us down, as though R&B were a ducking or a swirlie. That the English word borrows the same roots from the French only confirms the point: entre + tenir, to keep amidst or hold in position. Entertain used to mean “to hire, as a servant.”

    Autonomy is also the book in which a next-generation American Marxist out-Mandarins Adorno, who, after all, begins his essay by insisting that the cultural conservatives are wrong. There has been no decline of standards, no cultural anarchy let loose by the weakening of the churches and the vanishing of the old, agrarian societies, hence no permissive culture in which anything goes. Just the contrary: Magazines and radio and Hollywood form a system with its own rigidly enforced standards, a highly regulated domain in which almost nothing goes. Adorno’s way of saying this is that there is no “cultural chaos.” But Nicholas Brown prefers the chaos thesis, endorsing the position that Adorno has preemptively rejected as both reactionary and implausible: “The culture industry,” Brown writes, couching in Frankfurtese his not-at-all Adornian point, is “the confusion in which everything worth saving is lost” (135).

    Similarly, readers are usually surprised to find Adorno writing in defense of “mindlessness.” His hunch is that Kantian aesthetics might find its niche among the lowest art forms and not, as we more commonly expect, among the most elevated. Sometimes I encounter an object and find it beautiful, and in that moment of wonderment, my attitude towards the object is adjusted. I stop trying to discern what the thing is for or how to use it. Where a moment ago, I was still scanning its instruction manual, I am now glad for the thing just so. Perhaps I am even moved to disenroll the beautiful thing from the inventory of useful objects, or find myself doting on it even having ascertained that it’s not good for much. But then sometimes this purposiveness without a purpose is going to strike me not as beautiful, but as stupid, and Adorno’s point is that the stupid can do the work of the beautiful, that the beaux arts are If anything outmatched by the imbecile kind. The activities that we do for their own sake, for the idiot joy of our own capacities, are the ones that our pragmatic selves are likely to dismiss as dopey: someone you know can pay two recorders at once with her nose; a guy you once met could burp louder than a riding mower; you’ve heard about people who can vomit at will and recreationally. Kantian Zweckmäßigkeit ohne Zweck enters the vernacular every time we mutter “That was pointless.” It is in this spirit that Adorno sticks up for “entertainment free of all restraint,” “pure entertainment,” “stubbornly purposeless expertise,” and “mindless artistry.” His claim, in fact, is that the culture industry is hostile to such “meaninglessness,” that Hollywood is “making meaninglessness disappear” (114). It might be enough here to recall the difficulties that the major studios have in making comedies that are funny all the way through, preferring as they do to recruit their clowns from improv clubs and sketch shows, to promote them to the rank of movie star, and then to impound them in the regularities of the well-made plot, complete with third-act twists and character arcs, gracelessly telegraphed in the film’s final twenty-five minutes, to make up for all the time squandered on jokes, and tending to position the buffo’s comic persona as a pathology to be cured, scripting a return to normalcy whose hallmark is a neutralized mirthlessness. Hollywood’s comic plots model the supersession of comedy and not its vindication.

    But Nicholas Brown is not on the side of meaninglessness. “In commercial culture,” he writes, “there are no works to critique and no meanings to be found”—and he does not mean this as praise (10). In Autonomy, there is no liberating nonsense, but only the English professor’s compulsion to discern meaning, his impatience with any art for which one could not readily devise an essay prompt. Whatever independence the book’s title is offering us, it is not the freedom to stop making sense. It feels bracing, in fact, to read a book so willing to discard the institutionalized anti-elitism of cultural studies and 200-level seminars offering to “introduce” 20-year-olds to horror movies. When Brown rolls his eyes over Avatar because of some dumb thing its director once said in an interview, or when he calls off a wholly promising reading of True Detective by announcing that it is “nothing more than an entertainment,” we need to see him as turning his back on the aging pseudo-Gramscians of the contemporary academy, all those populists without a movement, the media-studies scholars who imagine themselves as part of a Cultural Front that no-one else can see, a two-term alliance consisting entirely of Beyoncé fans and themselves; the shopping-mall Maoists of the 1990s who couldn’t tell the difference between aller au peuple and aller au cinema (71). Adorno, of course, was concerned that the desires and tastes of ordinary audiences could be manipulated or even in some sense produced. “The Culture Industry” prompts in its readers the still Kantian project to figure out which of the many pleasures they experience are authentically their own. Which are the pleasures that will survive your reflection upon them, and which are the ones that you might reject for having made you more object-like, for having come to you as mere stimulation or conditioning? The autonomy that Adorno is trying to imagine is therefore ours, in opposition to a mass media that muscles in to tell us what we want before we have had a chance to consider what else there is to want or how a person might want differently, to work out not just different objects of desire, but different modes of desiring and of seeking satisfaction. Brown, by contrast, complains repeatedly that artists more than ever have to make things that people like. The autonomy that he is after is thus not our autonomy from an insinuating system but the artist’s autonomy from us. It is no longer surprising for a tenured literature professor to disclose, in writing, that he’s been listening to early Bruno Mars records. The unusual bit comes when Brown says he doesn’t think they’re any good (24).

    *

    Rather than summarize Brown’s findings, it might be more instructive to think of his book as having been constructed, modularly, out of four blocks:

    1) A Marxist problem: The problem that drives Brown’s thinking arrives as a question: What is the condition of art in the era of the universal market? The very concept of art promises that there exists a special class of objects, objects that we intuitively set apart, that are exempt from our ordinary calculi, that indeed activate one of the mind’s more recondite and less Newtonian faculties. But it is the premise of the universal market that there exist no such objects. Art might thus seem to be one of the things that a cyclically expanding capitalism has had to eliminate, as rival and incompatibility, like late medieval guilds or Yugoslavia. And yet art plainly still exists. I swear I saw some last Sunday. What, then, is the status of art when it can no longer dwell, nor even pretend to dwell, outside of the market, when its claim to distinction can no longer plausibly be voiced, when we’ve all come to suspect that the work of art is just another luxury good? One way of thinking about Autonomy, then, is to read it as refurbishing the theory of postmodernism, thirty-five years after Jameson first put that theory in place.

    2) A Kantian solution: Maybe “refurbish” is the wrong word, though. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that Brown means to call off the theory of postmodernism, to soothe readers steeped in Jameson by explaining how art survives even once, in the latter’s words, “aesthetic production … has become integrated into commodity production generally” (1991: 4). Autonomy amounts to a set of reassurances that aesthetic autonomy remains possible even within the market; that artworks can come to us with ISBN numbers and still elude the constraints of the commodity form. Brown’s book amounts to a list of the techniques available to contemporary artists for performing this feat. This is an argument that can be broadcast in different frequencies. Most often, it arrives in Kantian form, to the effect that there still exist non-instrumental objects, objects that, in some sense yet to be defined, display an anomalous relationship to purpose or use. At the same time, the argument can be modulated to carry a certain Marxist content. It was Marx’s claim, after all, that capitalism was bound to produce its own enemies, that bosses and investors were fated to produce a class of persons who would simultaneously serve and oppose them. One way of engineering the splice between Marxism and Kantian aesthetics is just to swap in the word objects where the last sentence had “persons.” Marx held that labor power was the commodity that did not behave like all the others. –Perhaps art is a second such. –And maybe work is the word that holds the two together. If we grant this point, postmodernism might reveal itself to have been a false problem all along. For which faithful Marxist ever thought we had to look outside of market society for solutions? Not Jameson, at any rate, whose mantra in the 1980s was that there was no advantage in opposing postmodernism, that the task for an emancipatory aesthetics was to pick its way through postmodernism and out the other side. Nicholas Brown, meanwhile, is more interested in what came before postmodernism than in what might come after it. In literary-historical terms, his argument is best understood as vouching for the survival of modernism within its successor form. Indeed, Brown is such a partisan of early twentieth-century art that he writes a chapter on The Wire, hailed by all and sundry as the great reinvention of Victorian social realism for the twenty-first century, and calls it “Modernism on TV” (152). The theorist’s attachment to the old modern is easiest to sense whenever the book’s readings reach their anti-utilitarian and aestheticist apotheoses. Brown thinks he can explain why, when presented with two versions of the same photograph, we should prefer the one with the class conflict left out (58-9). He also praises one white, Bush-era guitar band for negating the politics implicit in its blues rock, for achieving a pop formalism so pristine that it successfully brackets the question of race (145).

    3) A high-middlebrow canon:  That the band in question is The White Stripes lights up the next important feature of Autonomy, which is that it has assembled a canon of high-middlebrow art from the last forty years: Caetano Veloso, Jeff Wall, Alejandro Iñarritu, Ben Lerner, David Simon, Jennifer Egan, Richard Linklater, Cindy Sherman. That Brown shares the last-named with Jameson’s postmodernism book is a reminder that this set of objects could be variously named. The mind swoops in to say that the high-middlebrow is nothing but postmodernism itself (EL Doctorow, Andy Warhol, Blade Runner)—that the book’s dexterity is therefore to redescribe as neo-modernist what we had previously known only as pomo—but then pauses. If we follow the classic account, then one of the foremost characteristics of postmodern art—the first box to tick if you’re in a museum carrying the checklist—is  the collapsing of high and low, or what Jameson often identifies as elite art’s unwonted interest in its downmarket rival, its willingness to mimic trash, pulp, schlock, or kitsch. But it’s never been obvious that the latter really and truly triggered the former—that the mere quoting of popular media was enough to abolish the class-boundedness of art or even to weaken our habituated sense that cultural goods sort out into a hierarchy of distinction. If I am sitting in a concert hall listening to a string quartet, then this setting alone will be enough to frame the music as high even when the composer briefly assigns the cello the bassline from Stevie Wonder’s “Superstition.” One wishes to say, then, that the middlebrow—and not the citational—is the mode of art in which the distinction between high and low most fully collapses, which should make of Midcult the form of a perfected postmodernism, except that the doubling of the concept will now raise some puzzles of its own. For didn’t the middlebrow precede the postmodern? Wasn’t there middlebrow art before there was postmodern art? And if yes, then why wasn’t such art postmodern when it combined high and low in 1940? Were high and low commingling differently in 1980 than they had in The Old Man and the Sea? And doesn’t middlebrow art have its own, more or less direct way of reaching the median, its own styles and forms, without having to assemble itself afresh every time from pieces borrowed from high and low? So perhaps we would need after all to distinguish the middlebrow from the splicing-of-pop-and-art, for which we would continue to reserve the word postmodernism. At this point, watching those terms grow unwieldy, one casts about for new ones, and looking back over Brown’s list of autonomous artists, discerns the outlines of what until recently we were calling indie culture or alternative: small-label rock albums and small-studio features, supplemented by New Yorker fiction and the more accessible reaches of gallery art. If you are persuaded by Autonomy, you’re going to say that it is a thoughtful Gen X’ers riposte to Jameson, thirty-five years his senior, a careful explanation of why he has never experienced the art of his generation as all that broken. If you are unpersuaded by the book, you’re going to say that it is Immanuel Kant’s manifesto for dad rock.

    4) The methods of the literature seminar: At this point, it becomes important to identify the first of two ways that Brown has modified the Kantian arguments that he makes often and by name. The third Critique is at pains to explain that you are doing something unusual every time you call something beautiful. First of all, you are judging without interest; when you experience something as beautiful, you stop caring what it is for, or what it can do for you, or what it is worth. And if you are judging without interest, then it follows directly that your judgment should hold universally, since all other people equally capable of bracketing their interests should judge as you do. And yet the universality in question will be a fractured one even so. When I call this painting beautiful, I demand that everyone agree with me while knowing in practice that not everyone will. My claim is thus universalizing but not genuinely universal. Beauty is the occasion for what Kant (1790/1987) innocuously names our “subjective universality”—our failed and spectral commonality, which is, of course, the fate of all universalisms thus far, unusual here only because raised to consciousness (see especially section 8).

    Brown follows this argument closely, but has nothing at all to say about beauty, which is the term one might have thought a Kantian aesthetics could not forego. His revision goes like this: I know I am in the presence of art not when I experience an object as beautiful, but when I know it to be meaningful, and I discern its meanings even having admitted that I can never know what it was that the artist meant. Deliberating about art, Brown says, has to involve the “public ascription of intention,” and it’s worth taking the time to extract the Kantian structure of this claim (13). Intention is merely ascribed, something that I have to posit. But this ascription is necessarily public; I posit meaning while expecting others to co-posit it alongside me. Meaning is subjective but not private and in this sense the successor to Kant’s beauty. Brown’s niftiest trick is thus to get meaning to do the work of the beautiful, and we can accordingly read Autonomy both as the making-hermeneutic of the philosophy of art and as the making-aesthetic of meaning, hence as philosophical aesthetics’ revenge upon semiotics for having once taught us to talk about art in de-aestheticized ways.

    “The public ascription of meaning” is also Brown’s big proposal for authenticating an object as real art even when it comes to as us as commodity. It’s his bite test and dropper of nitric acid. Can I generate public meanings around x (Alison Bechdel, Gus Van Sant, Yeah Yeah Yeahs)? In practice, this is bound to mean: Can I teach a class on x (St. Vincent, Wes Anderson, Cormac McCarthy)? Will it work in seminar? We know something to be art, Brown says, when it “solicits close interpretative attention,” and Autonomy is most convincing when modeling such attention (22). Brown is a first-rate exegete, and his book tosses off one illuminating reading after another, repeatedly vindicating the program of an older criticism: why Boyhood isn’t really a coming-of-age movie; why the second season of The Wire is Greek rather than Shakespearean tragedy (and why that distinction matters); the particular way in which bossa nova bridges the divide between popular and art musics (and what this has to do with developmentalist politics in the global South). Readers might nonetheless be disappointed to learn that postmodern art’s paths to autonomy are the ones they already knew about. The book’s point, in fact, seems to be that the old paths still work, that new ones aren’t needed. Brown likes art when it displays a degree of self-consciousness about its own procedures and historical situation, and especially when an artwork includes a version of itself which it then subjects to critique. Simple self-referentiality is his most basic requirement: that art not reproduce without comment the inherited imperatives of its genre or medium, always glossed as market imperatives. He sticks up for “framing” and “citation” because of the meta-questions that these provoke; some guitars don’t just play rock songs, but get you to reflect on the condition of rock songs. All three of the novels he recommends are thus Künstlerromane, or at least readable as such, but these are only the clearest instance of Autonomy’s fundamentally didactic preference for literature when it interrupts our naïve attitude to fiction and instead makes us think afresh about same. The White Stripes are congratulated for having turned “fun” into an “inquiry” (149).

    This position is no more perspicuous than it has ever been. A person might finish Autonomy still wondering how it is that irony in this accustomed mode is able to “suspend the logic of the commodity” (34). The question is difficult: When irony comes to us in the form of the commodity, can we be sure that the commodity always loses? What keeps the self-ironizing commodity from functioning as commodified irony? In order to be convinced of Brown’s position, do I have to believe first that irony is the one uncommodifiable thing? Or that a work that confesses its dependence on the market has thereby neutralized that dependence? In Autonomy, autonomy sometimes withers back to my ability to name my subordination. Brown, moreover, is altogether inured to one version of clientage, which is the continued dependence of art upon the critic, who, after all, is the only one who can ratify it as art, via that public ascription of meaning. Artists forward works to the marketplace without knowing whether they will even count as art, generating instead a kind of proto-art, obliged to wait for the critics who produce the aftermarket meanings that classify some works as not-just-commodities. If you are an artist, then  autonomy apparently means marking time until somebody else certifies that you have successfully described your heteronomy.

    *

    A Marxist quandary, a Kantian path out—that’s Autonomy. If I say now that the path out is poorly blazed, and maybe even a trick, then you needn’t be disappointed, because it will also turn out that the quandary wasn’t one and that it didn’t need solving. You needn’t worry, I mean, that Brown’s account of art is unconvincing, and indeed disheartening, because the situation to which this art putatively responds is a non-problem. I’ll explain each in turn:

    The non-problem: “The work of art is not like a commodity,” Brown writes. “It is one” (34). That sentence is admirably hard-headed—but is it also correct? Are music and film and such available to us only as commodities? Do we never encounter art without having bought it first? It will be enough to consult your own experience to see that you are, in fact, surrounded by non-commodified art. Works of art are the only items that governments still routinely take out of the marketplace, amassing large collections of books, movies, and symphonies that citizens can access for free. Public libraries make of the arts the only remaining occasion for the otherwise atrophied traditions of municipal socialism. But when we start surveying our contemporary reserves of non-commodified art, we are talking about rather more than some picturesque Fabian survival. There was a period around the year 2000 when the new technologies more or less destroyed the market for recorded music. Even neoliberals concede that markets are not natural or spontaneous—that they have to be created and politically sustained. For the market in recorded music to have survived the rise of digital media, the governments of the capitalist states would have had to intervene massively to counter the wave of illegal downloading—the Moment of the MP3—when in fact they were largely content to let that market stop functioning. Brown is telling a story about the ever-intensifying logic of commodification, even though he has lived through the near decommodification of an entire art form, its remaking as a free good. If we are no longer talking much about media piracy, then this is only because filesharing has since been nudged back into a drastically redesigned marketplace, in the form of streaming and subscription services, which are the Aufhebung of the commodity form and its opposite: the non-market of free goods, available for a fee: Napster + the reassurance that you won’t get sued. But then is the Spotify playlist a commodity? It might be, though it seems wrong to say that I have bought such a thing, and we still lack a proper account of the new political economy of culture and its retailoring of the commodity form: Art in the Age of the Platform and the Deep Catalog. There is, of course, one position on the Left that has become totally contemptuous of the new technologies and especially of social media. The claim here is that we are gullibly creating free content for the new monopolies; we are writers and filmmakers and photographers—and we upload our work: our labor! our creativity!—and the companies make money (via advertising and the hawking of our data), and we don’t get a cut.[1] We are thus all in the position of the ‘90s-era pop star who has seen her royalties tank; against every expectation, Shania Twain has become the representative figure of our universal exploitation. This argument is worth hearing out, but it remains important even so to recall the situation that gives rise to this misgiving in the first place, which is that the creative Internet involves much more than people Instagramming their dinners. It produces Twitter essays, Ivy League professors anatomizing authoritarianism, lots of short movies, 15-second TikTok masterpieces, and song—everywhere song. To the anti-corporate line that calls me a chump for posting a video of myself playing Weezer’s “Hash Pipe” on the ukulele, the necessary Marxist rejoinder is that an arts communism is already in view—or at least that we have all the evidence we will ever need that people given the opportunity will gather without pay to fashion a culture together. Our snowballing insights into surveillance capitalism co-exist with the unforeclosed possibility that social media is the opening to socialist media. But then one wonders how new any of this is—wonders, indeed, whether the culture industry was ever tethered to the commodity form, since network television and pop radio in their canonical, postwar incarnations were already free goods, generating one of the great unremarked contradictions of twentieth-century arts commentary. Already in 1980, the art forms that a Left criticism excoriated under names like “corporate rock” and “consumer culture” were the ones that you could readily watch or hear without buying them. Before the advent of the full-scale Internet, it was alternative culture that existed only as a commodity, like that Sonic Youth CD I was once desperate to buy because I knew I was never going to hear it during morning drive time. (Only as a commodity? Almost only? Surely a friend might have hooked me up with a dub. Was I nowhere near a college radio station?) Indie used to be our name for music more-than-ordinarily dependent on the market, for art that one encountered mostly as commodity.

    That’s one way of understanding why Autonomy is trying, in vain, to solve a non-problem: The commodification of art is by no means complete. The relation of music, image, and story to the commodity form remains inconsistent and contradictory. But there’s a second way of getting at this point, and it goes back to the book’s fundamental misunderstanding of Marx and the commodity form. Brown’s promise, again, is that even in an era when we can no longer posit a distinction between the commodity and the non-commodity, we can still learn the subtler business of telling the mere commodity from the commodity-plus. Contemporary art might be a commodity, but it isn’t just a commodity. But in Marx, there is no such thing as the mere commodity. The very first point that Marx makes in Capital Volume 1 (1867/1992) is that commodities have a dual character; it is, in fact, this dualness that makes them commodities: Objects “are only commodities because they have a dual nature” (138)—they are simultaneously objects of use and objects of exchange, themselves as well as their fungible selves. Brown seems to hold that this condition is the special accomplishment of the neo-modernist artwork—its ability to escape commodification by being twofold. But that simply is the structure of the commodity. A Thomas McCarthy novel has no advantages in this regard over a tube sock or a travel mug, and Brown can only believe that it does by arguing repeatedly, contra Marx, that it is usefulness, and not doubleness, that makes something a commodity: “An experience is immediately a use value, and therefore in a society such as ours immediately entails the logic of the commodity…” (49). “Since the display value of a picture is a use value, there is nothing in the picture as an object that separates it from its being as a commodity” (68). This error is baffling, since twenty minutes spent reading Capital would have been enough to correct it, but it is also the predictable outcome of trying to get Marx and Kant to speak in the same voice. Marx’s argument has two steps: 1) It is exchange that makes something a commodity, and not use; useful objects obviously predated market society and will outlive it. 2) But then equally, use is not negated by exchange; the exchangeability of the object coexists with its usability, even though these require contradictory standpoints. It is thus impossible to understand why Brown thinks that art would stop functioning as art just because it’s for sale. Brown’s way of claiming this is to say that “the structure of the commodity excludes the attribute of interpretability” (22). If a movie comes to me as a commodity, I shouldn’t be able to interpret it, and if I am against all expectation able to discern meaning in it, I can congratulate it for having slipped free of its commodity shackles. But why would that be the case? A commodified rice cooker doesn’t stop functioning as a rice cooker. Commodified soap doesn’t stop cleaning your face. Why would artworks alone lose their particular qualities when commodified, such that we would wish to solemnize those putatively rare examples that achieve the doubleness that is in fact the commodity’s universal form?

    The fake solution: Brown’s argument gets itself into trouble by superimposing Kant on top of Marx, and yet its Kantianism is itself a mess. I should explain first why this matters. A critical theorist spots on the new arrivals shelf a book called Autonomy and can’t know at a glance what it is about, since its title exists in two registers at once. She might expect to find a book about the autonomy of art—a book, in other words, that belongs in the tradition of Gautier, Pater, Greenberg, and Rancière. But she might equally expect a book about the autonomy of workers, a book about autonomia, about the ability of workers to direct their own activity and set their own political goals without the superintendence of political parties and big trade unions. Anyone who notices that the book’s author is carrying a Duke-Literature PhD has got to expect this second autonomy, an Englishing of Potere Operaio and Lotta Continua; one might well be grateful for such a thing, since American Marxists still require the help of the Italians to make militant the cozily Jeffersonian program of “participatory democracy.” That Nicholas Brown holds no brief for the Italian Marxists is thus one of the book’s bigger surprises; if anything, the baldness of the book’s title seems designed to wrest the word autonomy away from the autonomists and to deliver it back to the aestheticism that historically predated Tronti and Virno. But the matter is more complicated than that. A certain workerism continues to inform Brown’s writing even so, if only because he so often makes about artworks arguments that we are used to hearing about proletarians. His biggest claim is that the artwork is wholly inserted into capitalism while also opposing it. “Art as such does not preexist capitalism and will not survive it; instead, art presents an unemphatic alterity to capitalism; art is not the before or after of capitalism but the deliberate suspension of its logic, its determinate other” (88-9). Or again: “The artwork is not an archaic holdover but the internal, unemphatic other to capitalist society (9). No Marxist should be surprised by this figure, though one might well marvel that it has taken the aesthetes so long to come round to it. It was the modernists, in this respect like the Third Worldists, who thought that the struggle against capitalism would have to come from some uncontaminated outside, from people who had wrenched free of the market or managed to avoid entering it in the first place. Brown’s project is to correct this bit of modernist doctrine by borrowing from Marxism its most basic dialectical motif, and in the process to get artworks to play the role formerly assigned to the working class. Brown’s artwork accordingly rumbles with otherwise diminished proletarian energies, and this has contradictory effects, for it is unclear in this scenario whether autonomous art comes to us as the ally of working people or as their rival. Brown is nowhere closer to a conventional Marxism than in his discussion of The Wire, where he offers some cogent remarks on the disappearance of the American working class, on casualization, the vanishing of jobs hitherto thought immune to mechanization, and the persistence of the category worker, as quasi-ethnic identity, even after work has disappeared. In this context, he has earmarked one line from the second season: “Modern robotics do much of the work” (qtd 174). But this last is a historical development that Brown’s argument emulates in the process of opposing, as his book palpably assigns to objects a set of historical tasks that were once thought proper for workers. Autonomy is accordingly stalked by automation, with the position of the working class—its superseded position? its only ever putative position?—now filled by quality television and smart novels. Robots do the work of capitalism; art does the work of “suspending” capitalism and is to that extent a second robot, the robot of negation: the nay-robot.

    At the same time, however, the artwork will continue to serve as the anticipatory figure for a free and self-determining humanity. If I can’t figure out how to be autonomous, I can delegate art to be autonomous in my stead. This is the not-so-secret use of those special objects to which we do not assign uses. The autonomy that we ascribe to the artwork will therefore say a lot about the independence that we wish for ourselves, and it is for this reason that the book’s explanation of Kant’s aesthetics matters, since it is from his third Critique—and not from his moral philosophy, nor from his overtly political essays—that we are expected to extract this political criterion and aim.

    The problem, then, is that Brown parses Kant’s theory of aesthetic autonomy in at least three different and incompatible ways.

    1) Sometimes, though not often, Brown cites Kant’s most distinctive formulation. Some objects strike me as manifestly designed—organized, patterned, not random—even though I can’t tell what they are for or, indeed, whether they are for anything at all. This Autonomy knows to call “purposiveness without purpose,” design without function (12, 179). Anyone aspiring to this condition is aiming for a kind of idleness, or at least an un-work, a kind of busy leisure. If lack of purpose is how we recognize autonomy, then we will ourselves only gain independence once we have resolved never to achieve anything—to swear off goals and undertakings and weekend to-do lists.

    2) But then Brown also praises some detective fiction for its ability to produce cognitive maps—for its “making connections” across “multiple milieux and classes,” and at that point one notices that he isn’t hostile to purpose after all (70). He has violated the Kantian stricture by assigning a purpose to Raymond Chandler and endorsing that purpose as worthy. The Big Sleep doesn’t just hum with needless pattern; it provides us with a service for which we might feel grateful (and for which we might pay Random House). What stands out at this point is that Brown has proposed a formulation of his own, which he prefers to “purposiveness without purpose”—namely, “immanent purposiveness,” a refusal, that is, of imposed or extrinsic ends (13). Sometimes he refers in this regard to “the self-legislating work”: “A work’s assertion of autonomy is the claim that its form is self-legislating. Nothing more” (182). For any Kantian, of course, autonomy is precisely something more—a rejection of all ends, and not just of “external” ones (31)—though the phrase “self-legislating” has a Kantian ring of its own, and we might soon conclude that Brown is silently correcting the third Critique by smuggling in a key concept from the second, in order to re-introduce purpose into a landscape forbiddingly devoid of it. He is putting the self-legislating subjects of Kantian moral philosophy in the place of the aimless objects of Kantian aesthetics.

    3) But when is an end “immanent” to a work of art? And when is it “external”? Are we confident that we know the difference between inside and out? Early in Autonomy, Brown lists among his goals a defense of the category of “intention” (10-11): We won’t even be able to regard artworks as intelligible if we treat them as non-intentional—if, that is, we stop conceiving of them as somebody’s attempt to say something. This claim is plainly incompatible with a rigorous Kantianism, since whatever intention I ascribe to the artwork will be a purpose, and Kant’s whole point is that artworks have no such purposes. But Brown’s retrieval of intention is no less damaging to the loose Kantianism he prefers. He instructs us to think of autonomy as “self-legislating,” but he also wants us to consider the intentions that activate a work of art, and the latter generates all sorts of ambiguity around the former, simply by introducing the problems of authors and artists. Where before we had one term, the artwork, now we have two, the artwork and its intender, and now we have to wonder which of them gets to be self-legislating. If we allow the artist to give herself the law, then the artwork will presumably be secondary, the vehicle and working-out of the poet’s self-chosen code, the telegram of her intention. Sometimes, however, Brown sidelines the artist and lets the movies choose their own ends: It is the job of the viewer, he writes, “to figure out what [the artwork] is trying to do” (31). And from this second perspective, one is compelled to distrust the artist’s intention as an externality—just another imposed demand: The artwork, if it is to be autonomous, should get to do what it wants, where this desire is usually understood as an inherited formal project, requiring that all new artists solve hitherto unsolved formal problems or that they re-do old aesthetic experiments in radicalized form. But in this second scenario, the autonomy of the artwork plainly comes at the expense of my autonomy. The artwork that I had hoped would secure my independence instead ends up bossing me around. It was Adorno (1970/1997: 36-37) who observed that modernism, which we typically describe to undergraduates as an emancipated anti-traditionalism, a discarding of the old conventions, an experimental drive to make art otherwise, actually amounted to a “canon of prohibitions”: an ever-expanding list of Things You Could Not Do: paint figurally, compose with triads, end your novel with a marriage.[2]

    But then do artworks really get to choose their own ends or give themselves the law? Brown sometimes writes as though they did, but mostly confesses that they don’t, preferring the following, thrice-repeated hedge:

    • “The novel presents itself as simply following a logic that is already present in the material, as though the novel were not written by an author” (99).
    • In the domain of art, all legitimate politics must “appear to emerge as if unbidden from the material on which these artists work” (38).
    • For an artist, one important skill is “the capacity to produce the conviction that what we are seeing belongs to the logic of the material rather than to some external, contingent compulsion” (59).

    This last sentence makes Brown’s point with special force: The artwork cannot, in fact, achieve autonomy; its glory is not to negate command, but merely to mask it, to produce in us a belief that the artwork was self-generating even when it wasn’t. Autonomy begins by recommending to us art as the undiminished paradigm of self-determination and free activity, and ends up enrolling it in that list of calculated things we misapprehend as spontaneous—consumer choice, electoral democracy, Spinozist consciousness—and this it does without ever admitting how dolefully it has dickered down its offer: We search art for the possibility of our freedom and walk away persuaded only that some things expertly disguise their subservience. They step forward “as though” unbidden. Autonomy … as if.

     

    Christian Thorne is a professor of English at Williams College.

    References

    Adorno, Theodor. Aesthetic Theory. 1970/1997. Translated by Robert Hullot-Kentor. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

    Brown, Nicholas. 2019. Autonomy. Durham, NC: Duke University Press.

    Horkheimer, Max and Theodor W. Adorno. 2002. Dialectic of Enlightenment Translated by Edmund Jephcott. Stanford: Stanford University Press.

    Jameson, Fredric. 1991. Postmodernism, or, The Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism. Durham, NC: Duke University Press.

    Kant, Immanuel. The Critique of Judgment. 1790/ 1987. Translated by Werner Pluhar. Indianapolis, IN: Hackett Publishing.

     

    [1] See for instance the writings of Cracker’s Davd Lowery, collected at The Trichordist, a collective of “artists for an ethical and sustainable Internet.” thetrichordist.com, last accessed November 12, 2019.

  • Of Human Flesh: An Interview with R.A. Judy by Fred Moten

    Of Human Flesh: An Interview with R.A. Judy by Fred Moten

    This is the second part of an interview of R.A. Judy conducted by Fred Moten in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, over the course of two days, May 26-27, 2017. The first half of this interview appears in boundary 2, vol. 47, no. 2 (May 2020): 227-62.


    Fred Moten: I want to return again, now, to the question concerning the fate of (Dis)forming the American Canon. The question of the fate of how it will be read in the future is obviously connected to the question of how it was read when it first came out. So, let’s revisit a little bit the reception and maybe think in a very specific way about the different ways in which it was received in different disciplines and in different intellectual formations.

    RA Judy: Well, yes my earlier response to the same question focused on the idea of the book; that is, how that idea was received or not received in the discipline or field of black studies. In fact, the book had quite a different reception in the fields of cultural studies, comparative literature, and what was then being called critical race studies, or what became known as critical race theory and Africana philosophy. In some sense, this was understandable, given that I am a comparativist, and it was composed as a comparativist essay meant to be a bringing of the issues of what you and I call Black Study into the ambit of comparative literature, even though it ended up being marketed as a particular kind of Afro-centric work, which it never was, at least not in the political or academic position of Afro-centrism. For instance, the first chapter of the book which is a very careful critique and analysis of the formation of black studies, is about the university and the formation of the university, and McGeorge Bundy’s intervention at that important 1977 Yale seminar on Afro-American literary theory, which Henry Louis Gates and Robert Stepto were instrumental in organizing as a sort of laying of the foundation of what would become African American Studies. Bill Readings in his University in Ruins, found that chapter to be an important account, anticipating the neoliberalization of the university as he was trying to analyze it, and his taking it up became important; it led to not only a citation in his book, but other work that I began to do in boundary 2 and elsewhere. So that’s one point of, if you will, positive reception where (Dis)forming was taken up. The fourth chapter, “Kant and the Negro,” got a tremendous amount of positive reception and prominence, and was even been translated into Russian and was published as an essay in Readings’ pioneering online journal Surfaces out of the University of Montreal.[1] And then it got republished by Valentin Mudimbe in the Journal for the Society for African Philosophy in North America (SAPINA) in 2002. “Kant and the Negro” circulated widely and it got a great deal of attention from people like Tommy Lott, and Lucius Outlaw, and Charles Mills. In other words, it was well received and proved to be an important piece in the area of African and Africana philosophy. Lewis Gordon, as a result of that work, and this is when I was still very much involved with the American Philosophical Association, ended up producing one of my pieces in his Fanon Reader.[2] In Cynthia Willett’s Theorizing Multiculturalism, there’s a  prominent piece, “Fanon and the Subject of Experience,”[3] which kind of refers to one of the points I was trying to make yesterday about individuation. I want to read to you, if I may, the opening passage from that 1998 essay:

    If we accept along with Edward Said that was is irreducible and essential to human experience is subjective, and that this experience is also historical, then we are certainly brought to a vexing problem of thought. The problem is how to give an account of the relationship between the subjective and historical. It can be pointed out that Said’s claim is obviously not the polarity of the subjective and the historical, but only that the subjective is historical. It is historical as opposed to being transcendent, either in accordance with the metaphysics of scholasticism and idealism, or the positivist empiricism of scientism. Yet to simply state that subjective experience is also historical, is not only uninteresting, but begs the question, “how is historical experience possible?” The weight of this question increases when we recall the assumption that the subjective is essential to human experience. Whatever may be the relationship between subjective and historical experience, to think the latter without the former is to think an experience that is fundamentally inhuman. Would it then be “experience”? That is, to what extent is our thinking about experience, even about the historical, contingent upon our thinking about the subject?

    This is how, then, I take up the approach to Fanon as bringing us to this question. And we see that already there I’m trying to interrogate the inadequacy of the notion of the subject in accounting for the question of the historical nature of thinking-in-action, and that thinking-in-action always entails what we were talking about yesterday as the individual as discrete multiplicity in action. And how we think about it, and that’s where I’m trying to go with the second book which I’m sure we’ll talk about in a minute, and also the third book with Fanon, but that’s coming out of (Dis)forming as a formulation of individuation. Again, this is in the Willett piece that is an elaboration on what is at the crux of the project in “Kant and the Negro.” That is to say, it’s not that there is no discrete articulation of multiplicity that is fundamental to what we may consider experience, or what others might call the situation or the situational; the question is how we think about it, and whether the current discourse we have of it is adequate or even if its’s possible to still think about it once we dispense with that discourse. I mark the latter by trying to make a differentiation between what I consider the historical formation of bourgeois subjectivity as a particular way of understanding the relationship between thinking and history, of thinking the event, and other formations that I think are inadequately accounted for because we don’t have the language for it, and that’s the point of the current work, is to try to formulate such a language. Tommy Lott, as well found “Kant and the Negro” very important; I ended up doing a piece in his volume, A Companion to African-American Philosophy, and I believe it was called . . . Yes! “Kant and Knowledge of Disappearing Expression.”[4] In that piece I, at Tommy’s invitation, took up the philological problematic that Ben Ali posed as an important case or instance of not really the limitations of Enlightenment theories of the subject, but also as pointing to other possibilities as a concrete instance in Ben Ali’s stories.

    FM: So, this leads me to two questions, one that emerges from this different reception. It has to do with the relationship between black studies and other disciplines, specifically with comparative literature but also with philosophy, and then with mathematics, and, finally, with their convergence. So, the question is what do those disciplines have to do with black studies? How does that relation manifest itself, not only in your work but in a general way? So, that’s one question. The other question, which is connected to it, is this: once one begins to think about the confluence of black study, mathematics, philosophy, how does that coincide with a project, or at least what I take to be part of your project, which is not a renewal or a rescue of the subject of experience but is, rather, a new way of thinking the the relation between individuation, as you have elaborated it here, and historical experience?

    RAJ: I’ll first make a remark about “the subject of experience.” In the Lott piece and in another piece that I did at the invitation of Robert Gooding-Williams in the special issue of the Massachusetts Review he edited, on Du Bois, “Hephaestus Limping, W.E.B. Du Bois and the New Black Aesthetics,”’[5]in which the work of Trey Ellis is my point of reference, I talk about what I designate, the subject of narrativity, as distinct from the subject of experience, or the scientific subject. And in an effort to try to elaborate how I think what’s at play in a whole series of texts, Ellis’ Platitudes and others, the Ben Ali texts, I’ve gone on to other novels and such that are doing this thing, including Darius James’ Negrophobia, and Aṭ-ṭāhir wa ṭṭār’s book that has yet to be translated into English, Tajriba fī al-‘ašq (Experiment in Love) to Ibrahīm al-Konī’s work, and of course Naguib Mahfouz’s Tulāthīya (The Cairo Trilogy). In each of these cases, I’m trying to show that what’s at work is the formulation of a kind of subject, a representation of it; in calling it the subject of narrativity, that’s a precursor to what I referred to yesterday as the subject of semiosis. And in that working through, the thinking of Charles Sanders Peirce is really central and instrumental. I mentioned Vico earlier, and Spinoza, Peirce and Du Bois, these are principal texts for me in the Western tradition, as is al-Ghazālī, as well as the Tunisian writer, al-Mas’adī, as well as Risāla al-ghufrān by al-Ma’arrī, and the work of al-Jāḥiẓ, particularly his Kitāb al-hayawān (Book of the Animals), and Kitāb al-bayan wa a-tabiyīn (Book of Eloquence and Demonstration). This is kind of like my library, as it were. And Peirce, to stay focused on the question about the philosophical and the mathematical, in his effort to try to arrive at a logical-mathematical basis for human knowledge in a very broad sense, which he calls “semiosis” around the same time de Saussure discovers “sémiologie, gives us a very specific conceptualization of community in narrative, community in process, whereby truth is generated in the dynamics of ongoing open-ended signification. I come to Peirce through my formation as a comparativist— Peirce’s work was of some importance in Godzich’s Comparative Literature Core Seminar at the University of Minnesota in a particular kind of engagement with Husserl, Derrida and Lyotard and others who had looked over at Peirce—but more importantly through Du Bois. In reading through Du Bois’ student notebooks, I find clear traces . . . echoes of Peirce.  Although Peirce isn’t named in those note books, Royce, with whom Du Bois studies and whose theory of community he was critically engaged in, was. And Royce expressly admitted he was using Peirce’s semiosis in elaborating his theory of community. This is one of the portals of the mathematical concern for me, with respect to the question of individuation, minus Peirce’s agapism; that is to say, minus Peirce’s teleology. Once again, Du Bois instructed me in a major way; this time to be critical of teleology, understanding the fact that it is the persistence of the teleological that leads to particular ethical impasses, or what I like to call the crisis in and of ontology. A crisis in which the event of the Negro always highlights, always marks the break, the gap, the hole in the ontological project. So, that even the invention of the Negro in seventeenth-century legislation of slavery is an effort to try and fill that gap. And that’s where I begin to situate the question of what you like to call Black Study. Now, that’s my way of thinking, to begin to address your question about the different disciplinary responses. To my recollection something begins to happen around the work of black philosophy in the late 1960s and early 1970s. I’m thinking of the of work Nathaniel Hare and what he began publishing in The Black Scholar from its inaugural issue in November 1969, where we find Sékou Touré’s “A Dialectical Approach to Culture,” and Stanislas Adotevi’s “The Strategy of Culture.” The next year in volume 2, issue 1 of that same journal, we find the remarkably provocative the interview with C. L. R. James, in which he challenges the then prevailing identitarian notion of black study. That same issue had an essay that, at the time—1970 when I was a sophomore in High School still aspiring to be a physicist and astronaut—so caught my attention that I’ve keep a copy of it, S.E. Anderson’s “Mathematics and the Struggle for Black Liberation,” in which he states something to the effect that “Black Studies programs then being instituted were white studies programs in blackface aimed at engendering American patriotism through militant integrationism. What he argued for instead was a revolutionary humanism. My point is there was a radical intellectual tradition that lay the foundations of much of what is being done now as Black Study, that most certainly was foundational to my thinking and work. Essays published in The Black Scholar during the early 1970s that still reverberate with me are

    Abdl-Hakimu Ibn Alkalimat’s “The Ideology of Black Social Science,” Sonia Sanchez’s “Queens of the Universe,” Dennis Forsythe’s “Frantz Fanon: Black Theoretician,” and George Jackson’s “Struggle and the Black Man.” Just as important are people like Cedric Robinson, Tommy Lott and Lucius Outlaw, who are approaching the question of blackness in a vein that I think is a continuation of what Du Bois was trying to do, and what people like Harold Cruse and Alain Locke were trying to do.

    FM: Would you include the folks who were doing a certain kind of theological reflection that at some point came to be known as black liberation theology, people like James Cone, and even his great precursor Howard Thurman? Was that work that you were attuned to at that same time too? Because they were concerned with these kinds of ontological questions as well.

    RAJ: Yes, I was reading James Cone and Howard Thurman; and before that, William Jones’s 1973 book, Is God a White Racist? While they were concerned with the same questions, they were emphatically still invested in the teleological. But yes, I include that, although that part of the reception of (Dis)forming is complicated—I’m thinking of Corey T. Walker’s reading of it— because the canon that they’re trying to form is—what can I say—is around the church, and around the theological questions of the church and the performance of community in the church, the church as community. It is post-secular in a way that (Dis)forming is not. And so, the question of style is an important question for me and the question of the forms that are being explored is an important question for me, and I couldn’t follow them in those forms. Significantly enough, Hortense Spillers does both anticipate and follow because one of Spillers’ earliest concerns is to understand the genealogy of the sermon, in all of its various forms including its forms among early English Protestants and its rhetorical structures. You can see this in what she’s doing with Roland Barthes and the question of structuralism in “Mama’s Baby, Papa’s Maybe.” You can also see it in her essay on Harold Cruse, “The Crisis of the Negro Intellectual; A Post-Date,” a long meditation on the question of style and the analogy between musical style, and the question of whether or not the black intellectual can be capable of a certain kind of thinking, which, by the way, is a very interesting engagement with Althusser and Balibar’s Reading Capital. “America and Powerless Potentialities”[6] considers Spillers’ engagement with these questions along these lines in tandem with Du Bois’ 1890 Harvard commencement speech. So yeah, there’s a certain engagement, but one that is, let us say, appositional, a certain . . .  I have an allergy to the teleological, to the extent that I keep trying to make sure that I can ferret out its persistent or residual workings in my own thinking.

    FM: Yeah, I was thinking of them, just because sometimes when I go back and look at that stuff, it seems like teleology gives them the sniffles sometimes, too, you know?

    RAJ: Cone’s work, for example, has led to a very particular swing over the past 8 years now of trying to reclaim Du Bois as a Christian thinker. I’m thinking, for instance, of work by Jonathon Kahn, who takes into account the arguments of Cone, but also Dolores Williams and Anthony Pinn, in his reading of Du Bois work. Or that of Edward Blum and Phil Zuckerman. The work of Cone and company is there yes, but in a particular kind of way, as that with which I’m flying but out of alignment. On the issue of the disciplines, it’s very interesting that (Dis)forming was well-received by African American philosophers, such as Lott and Outlaw, Paget Henry and Lewis Gordon, Robert Gooding-Williams, Tony Bogues and Charles Mills, all of who are doing significant work, trying to take up these issues, as issues relating to, forgive the phrase, the general human condition. These issues, referring to the problematics of blackness, or black study, where black study is about a particular tradition of thinking and thinking in the world, proved to be quite enabling, and proved to be one of the initial fronts, or at least openings, for a, I don’t want to quite simply say “revitalization” because that gives a certain weight, perhaps disproportionately, to what was happening at San Francisco State in 1968-69, although I think it’s important when you go over the material being generated in the 1980s and 1990s  to bear in mind that that movement in ’68 initiated by the Third World Liberation Front—a coalition of the Black Students Union, the Latin American Students Organization, the Filipino-American Students Organization, and El Renacimiento —was expressly predicated upon Fanon’s understanding of the prospects of a new humanism, and so its ambition was to try to model, what would be broadly speaking, a new humanism, which is why that is going to eventually lead to the creation of what I believe was the first autonomous department of Black Studies and Ethnic Studies under Hare’s directorship. It’s no small matter that the Black Panther Party’s National Minister of Education, George Mason Murray, was central to that movement. So, that initial institution of Black Studies conceived itself, presented itself, and aspired to be a reimagining of the history of humanity along a very specific radical epistemological trajectory. Now, how that gets lost is another question, and we can talk about the difference between San Francisco State in 1968 and the establishment of a black studies program at Yale in the same year. But, to stay focused, I don’t want to say that what Lucius Outlaw, Tommy Lott, Lewis Gordon, Charles Mills, Tony Bogues and others are doing is simply a revival of San Francisco State in 68; although I do think it is taking up that epistemological project. We see this, for instance, with Hussein Bulhan’s 1985 book, Frantz Fanon and the Psychology of Oppression, which was trying to lay down a radical humanist conception of humanity predicated upon psychoanalysis, in that way, taking up Lacan’s anti-philosophy. Not so much the anti-philosophy, but trying to make philosophy do something different, and think about the individual in ways that was more complicated and more adequate than the theory of the subject that people were rallying against. All of those were efforts that come out of Fanon and were expressly thinking about the question of, what you and I call Black Study, as an instantiation of the question of the human, in which the particularities of the style of response of black people to certain things, the forms of thinking that those we call “black” were engaging in, said something, or had resonances, broad resonances. Without, then, just simply assuming to occupy the position of the normative subject, the transcendental subject, into which the hypostatized bourgeois had been placed in the philosophical discourse of the Enlightenment: the convergence of the subject of science with that historical bourgeois subject, or the subject of knowledge with that historical bourgeois subject, or even the subject of experience with that historical bourgeois subject, or even the subject of the spectacle, the subject who is seeing Merleau-Ponty tries to problematize. That Black Study attends to those particularities of style and thinking without trying to simply have the “black” occupy that subject position. The aim, instead, is to open up the project of thinking so that there isn’t that positionality at all. This goes back to what we were talking about earlier as displacement, that the Negro has no place, and is not about making place. But I like your phrasing, the “consistent and intense activity of displacement.” So, they’re doing that, these black philosophers, and they open up a front, they open up a Black Studies, in a way that retrieves the momentum of 68’ in a powerful way. And that work finds a particular institutional toehold. Bulhan will subsequently establish the Frantz Fanon University in Somaliland in, I think, 2010. And at Brown University’s Africana Studies Department, in contrast to what takes place at Temple and the creation of Africana Studies there, will include the work of Lewis Gordon, Tony Bogues, and Paget Henry . . .  So, the reception of (Dis)forming in those quarters was predictable. Those quarters were quarters of important experimentation, that have played no small role in the kind of transformation we have seen in Black Study, where increasingly this kind of work is becoming important. What’s interesting is what begins to occur in this century. One can begin to look at works that you’re starting to produce around 2000, where the revivification of that initial articulation I’m talking about, is taken up in poetic discourse. And in that form, begins to find its way, slowly—and it’s a struggle— into traditional institutional programs of what we now refer to as African American or African Studies. But it only begins to do so, because we’re still looking at a situation, if we look at Harvard, or Yale, or Princeton, or UC San Diego, we’re looking at programs that are still pretty much organized around the sociological model, that aren’t taking up these questions in this way. So that’s how I understand the institutional relationships, the disciplinary relationships, and account for the difference in reception of (Dis)forming.

    FM: The way you’re characterizing this raises a couple of questions for me, because I’m thinking specifically now of a particular work by Du Bois, which you first made available to contemporary readers some years ago, “Sociology Hesitant,” in which it appears to be the case that Du Bois is making a distinction within sociology, or between modes of sociology, or between possible modes of sociological reflection. It is that distinction we talked about a little bit earlier, a distinction regarding the difference between the calculable and the incalculable. My understanding of the essay is that it allows for maybe a couple of different modalities of the sociological, one that operates along a certain kind of positivist axis, and another that would take up what he talks about under the rubric of “the incalculable,” which would allow us to pay attention to these modalities of style you touched on earlier. Well, in that essay he talks about it in relation to the activities of the women’s club, but we could imagine he might also assert those activities as extensions of the church service as a scene in which the exegetical and the devotional are joined and shared. But the point is that there are a couple of different modalities of sociological reflection, one of which would entail something you would talk about under the rubric of the humanistic, or the philosophical, or the literary.

    RAJ: A prefatory remark about how I came to that essay. I just handed you an envelope from the W. E. B. Du Bois Papers at University of Massachusetts, Amherst, dated, as you can see January 20, 1987. At that time, reading through the scholarship on Du Bois, I encountered many references to “Sociology Hesitant,” which reported its being lost. And I wanted to read this piece so badly because of the references. Anyway, in the course of reading through the microfilms of the W.E.B. Du Bois Collection, at the University of Massachusetts Amherst Library, which the University of Minnesota Library owned, I came across a reference to “Sociology Hesitant,” in Robert W. McDonnell’s Guide and found it there in the microfilms. So I wrote the Special Collections and Archives office at Amherst, requesting the certified copy of it you’ve just looked at. I was like blown away when I actually read the essay, and blown away for the reasons that you’re posing right now. This does indeed go to our remarks earlier about individuation and what I was trying to say about the issues of paradox. In “Sociology Hesitant,” which is written in 1904-1905 in the context of the St. Louis world’s fair, Du Bois critiques sociology for a confusion of field and method. He traces that confusion back to Comte’s Positivism which, reducing the dynamics of human action to axiomatic law, postulates society as an abstraction; something that is “measureable . . . in mathematical formula,” as Du Bois puts it. Indeed, a fundamental dictum of Comte’s Positivism is that there is no question whatever which cannot ultimately be reduced, in the final analysis, to a simple question of numbers. And in this regard, we should bear in mind that his sociology entailed two orders of mathematical operations, which he calls “concrete mathematics” and “abstract mathematics” respectively. Du Bois tracks how this axiomatic arithmetization of human action gets deployed in Herbert Spencer’s descriptive sociology, and Franklin Gidding’s theory of consciousness of kind, as well as Gabriel Tarde’s theory of imitation. Regarding these various attempts at reducing human action to mathematical formula, he writes, “The New Humanism of the 19th century was burning with new interest in human deeds: Law, Religion, Education. . . . . A Categorical Imperative pushed all thought toward the paradox; the evident rhythm of all human action; and the evident incalculability in human action.” The phrase, “New Humanism,” translates Friedrich Paulsen’s designation, “Neue Humanismus,” which he also conflated as “Neuhumanismus”,” and so is usually rendered in English as “Neohumanism.” Paulsen coined the term in 1885 to designate the nineteenth century German cultural movement stemming from Wilhelm von Humboldt’s and Friedrich August Wolf’s ideas that classical Greek language and literature was to be studied because of its absolute value as the exemplary representation of the idea of man.” The Neohumanists held that nothing was more important than knowledge of Greek in acquiring self-knowledge (Selbsterkenntnis) and self-education (Selbstbildung). This Hellenophilia, bolstered by Christian Gottlob Heyne’s “scientific” philology, informed Friederich Gauss’s work in the arithmetization of analysis. We know about Du Bois’ German connections. His usage of the phrase strongly suggests that he’s thinking about the arithmetization of analysis, and he talks about what he calls “the paradox of Law and Chance” in terms of physics, and the developments of physics, and those who try to model the social on the physics. He maintains that the very project of the measurement exposes that there is something that is working here that is not measureable, that cannot be reduced to arithmetic expression, pace Comte’s positivist dictum. Du Bois effectively argues that Comte is wrong about mathematics. It does not tell us everything.” What it does is tell us a great deal about the physical world, even the physical nature of the human if we want to bring in the biological. But, while it tells us all of that, what keeps being exposed in the course of its discoveries is something that exceeds it in a way that really echoes Dedekind’s understanding of arithmetic definition and the limit problem, where something else emerges; which is what Du Bois pointedly calls, “the incalculable.” He proposes a different way of doing sociology. He says, “the true students of sociology accept the paradox of . . . the Hypothesis of Law and the Assumption of Chance.” They do not try to resolve this paradox, but rather look at the limit of the measureable and the activity of the incalculable in tandem, to, as it were, measure “the Kantian Absolute and Undetermined Ego.” Du Bois says this rather tongue-in-cheek because he’s continually challenging the Kantian proposition that this ego is not measureable to say that indeed we can say something about it and its traces, we just can’t say it in terms of numbers, we can’t count it. So, his proposition for sociology is one where we have the mathematical working and then we have these other incalculable activities. And in the space of the paradox, the break, he situates, 1) the event of human social organization; 2) that event can be seen from the perspective of a mediating discourse that will help mathematics recognize what it’s doing as an ontological project—which he wants to be critical of—and also will help chance appear in an important dynamic relationship to that ontological project. There is a way in which Du Bois is challenging not only Comte’s basing sociology so absolutely on arithmetic analysis but the predominate trend of statistical sociology—of which he was a leading practitioner, producing the second major statistical sociological study in the English language of an urban population, The Philadelphia Negro, in 1899— for, as he says in a 1956 letter to Herbert Aptheker, “changing man to an automaton and making ethics unmeaning and reform a contradiction in terms.” In that same letter, he effectively summarizes the critique of knowledge in “Sociology Hesitant” as the crux of his life-long intellectual project, or “philosophy,” as he calls it; which he characterizes as the belief that the human mind, human knowledge, and absolute provable truth approach each other like the asymptotes of the hyperbola. Although Du Bois attributes this analogy to lessons learned in High School mathematics, it is also a deployment or reference to the Poincaré asymptote, which is something he would have known very well as one of the premiere statisticians of his moment. The significance of Du Bois’ situating his thinking at the crux of paradox, the crossroad where the measurable and incalculable meet, to his thinking on the Negro is one of the things explored rather carefully in the book manuscript I’ve just finished, Sentient Flesh (Thinking in Disorder/Poiēsis in Black).

    FM: Earlier you expressed a certain kind of critical skepticism with regard to the very idea of a mediating discourse, or a third discursive frame, or a conceptual frame from which to adjudicate between these two.

    RAJ: Yeah, there I depart from Du Bois, hence, my remarks about the sociological, in the sense of the academic discipline.

    FM: So, you’re not advocating or enacting in your work anything like what he might call the “truly sociological.”

    RAJ: No, I am, but not in the sense of a normative disciplinary methodology, a unifying theory. Remember, Du Bois says “true students of sociology embrace the paradox.” I would paraphrase this as “true student of sociality,” because he is expressly arguing against “sociology” for not be capable of adequately studying the dynamic relationship between the ideological elements and the material practices constituting society. Anyways, when he says this, he is pushing against axiomatic absoluteness and not the tendency to generate law or axiomatic definition. The true student of sociality, then, is not hyper-invested in a transcendent disciplinary methodology, but rather in constantly moving along asymptotic lines. In that respect, I’m also taking up something that Du Bois does in his literary work. I offer as example, two texts: “Of the Coming of John,” and Dark Princess. One could pick more, including a wild piece of experimental writing that I found at Fisk back in 2011. In Sentient Flesh, I focus on “Of the Coming of John,” a very rich and important piece. I look at something he’s doing in that literary work, which is different from what he does, or let’s say stands in a particular kind of dynamic relationship to what he’s doing in his theoretical, sociological, political and editorial work. The nature of that relationship is indicated by his remarks in the 1956 Aptheker letter, but it is clarified in a piece that is arguably one of the scattered fragments he’s written that he alludes to there, in which he expressly theorizes the relationship between human mind and provable truth. That piece is the 56 page-long student essay he wrote in 1890 while studying at Harvard, “The Renaissance of Ethics,” for the year-long course, Philosophy VI, taught that year by William James. What one finds in that essay is a very sustained, very cogent critique of the history of modern philosophy from Bacon on. Actually, it begins with scholasticism to lay out what’s at stake in theistic teleology, and then talks about the extent to which the Galilean-Baconian revolution achieves a certain kind of transformation in the area of natural philosophy, the arithmetization of nature, but ethics lags behind. Ethics becomes metaphysics, and metaphysics just continues the teleological, and hence there is no renaissance of ethics that is comparable to what has happened in the physical sciences through arithmetization. Du Bois then claims the ascendency of the novel as evidence of what he calls the demand for a “science of mind” as the basis for a “science of ethics.” What I’m getting at with all of this is that what Du Bois is working towards in his account of the novel— and I would say also in the formal composition of The Souls of Black Folk —is illustrating there’s not so much a confrontation or a tension between, let us say, the mathematical and the poetic, but that they are working together. What I’m trying to point out is that, in Du Bois’ own account and performance, their working together, their relationship is not mediated by a transcendent third disciplinary discourse: the sociological. But rather, their working together is expressed in the activity of intellect-in-action, which is not disciplinary. In fact, I would say it is a thinking-in-disorder, which is what I’m calling “para-semiosis;” where semiosis is not a position—this relates to what I’ve said about the subject of narrativity—but is the activity of signification that is always multiple in its movements, multi-linear, and again even in terms of the individual expressions of elements, they themselves are multiple multiplicities; which are, as you say, “consistent and insistent.”

    FM:  Is what Du Bois calls the science of mind in “The Renaissance of Ethics” differentiated from what he calls true sociology? And if it is, is it differentiated at the level of its objects of analysis?

    RAJ: Yes. And if you look again at “Sociology Hesitant,” he also makes that differentiation. They’re both speculative texts. And he’s calling for a different way of thinking. The distinction, is part of a distinction of his thinking. Du Bois is full of all kinds of contradictions, right? And in trying to follow that distinction, in “Sociology Hesitant,” he’s talking about the prospects of a scholarly discipline, and he’s arguing for the discipline to be better oriented. That’s how he begins. And the reason that discipline is poorly oriented is because it’s grounded in a particular kind of idealism. That’s his charge against Comte and Spencer, against Gidding and Tarde; they’ve postulated a totality, a whole, without any conceptualization of relationships between elements. And so they’re not actually studying the multiplicities that constitute human reality, they’re putting forward an abstraction, and it’s an abstraction that’s driven by Comte’s commitment to number, as I’ve already remarked. So, the discipline has to be corrected if it is to actually consider what is of importance in this moment of modernity and capitalism; and that is the ways in which . . . how socialities are being constituted. Du Bois’ point is to critique sociology, and when he says true students of sociology, he says if you’re going to do sociology, you would have to do it in a way that attends to the paradox. But the moment you begin to do that, then you’re doing something quite different from sociology as we understand it, because that’s going to take you, as it takes him, to questions about epistemology, about what’s the nature of intelligence, what’s the nature of thinking in the world, what is the nature of duty, what, indeed, is our theory of mind. He comes to these questions in “The Renaissance of Ethics” in the course of trying to understand duty in terms of interpersonal relationship, or reciprocity, sociality. What is the good and how do we get at the good? On that score, there is a very subtle, profoundly important move he makes. Taking on Hume’s theory of causality—according to which the human mind, incapable of directly observing causal relations only conceptualizes sequences of events, one following another—Du Bois argues that it’s all about structural process and movement, stressing the point that if one element in the process shifts, the relationship shifts, so that not even sequence is consistently necessary. He offers in illustration a grammatical example. If you change the term “bonus” in the phrase vir bonus (“good man”) to “bona,” the alteration changes the terms of relation—in accordance with Latin grammatical rule, making the adjective in this phrase feminine, bona, dictates that the noun vir (“man”) becomes mulier (“woman”). But this changes a great deal more, given the provenance of the phrase. In classical Latin, vir means interchangeably “hero,” “man,” “grown-man,” and “husband.” Vir bonus, “the good man,” belongs to the discourse of public conduct. In short, vir bonus is the virtuous man of masculine polity. If you feminize this statement of the virtuous political conduct, it becomes something else. This is no offhanded remark on Du Bois’ part—remember that for two years in his first job at Wilberforce, he taught Latin and Greek—and when you explore it in the context of the essay’s topic, renaissance of ethics, what he’s suggesting is a critique of the fundamentals of the millennia-long tradition of virtue ethics. Much of “The Renaissance of Ethics” is committed to deconstructing the phrase, summum bonum (“the highest “good”), which is Cicero’s Latin rendering of the Platonic /Aristotelian Greek term, eudaimonia. He’s saying that we must begin to reimagine what and how we conceive to be the human. He gives considerable emphasis to “how” we conceive; and that’s where the question of duty comes up. It’s in trying to think about how we can think duty that he starts to shift into questions about how we think about intelligence.   Accordingly, he ends up with this call for the need of a science of mind.

    FM: So, are you then saying at a certain point there is a convergence between true sociology and science of mind, insofar as true sociology’s actual object of study is mind?

    RAJ: Yeah. And here’s where he’s following Comte. Comte’s whole positivist science is about epistemology, about the structure of knowledge.  Du Bois point is that Comte is approaching the question of intelligence on a false premise. We have to understand and begin to think about it differently as a practice, which for Du Bois means attending closely to life practices: the multiplicities of discrete things that people do.  He approaches these in a way that’s really quasi-structuralist. Here, there’s an echo of Aristotle, he begins to use Aristotelian terms and movement, beginning from there to track patterns and structures. We’re talking, then, about what is thinking, what is intelligence. What and how are we? So the statement about true students of sociology is somewhat ironic, as well as being critical and corrective. Spencer, Giddings, Tarde, and their respective disciples aren’t true students of sociology, if they were, they would do this. And if they did this, it’s would take them beyond the numeric, beyond just counting.

    FM: So then, is the true student of sociology a scientist of mind?

    RAJ: Well, I’m not prepared to say that. If one took Du Bois at his word, one could, in a certain way, say that. I’m not prepared to say it because there’s a great deal of slippage and movement in both these texts I’m referring to. As I say, they’re speculative. He’s reaching, he’s trying to find a way to give a sort of coherent and adequate expression to what he imagines to be the project. So I’m not prepared to say that the true student of sociology is a cognitive scientist. But I am prepared to say that in Du Bois’ conceptualization of what the nature of the project is, he’s not, in the end, positing sociology as a transcendent mediating discourse that’s going to make mathematics work with poetry. And so what I am saying is that in his performance—and this is where I take a cue for the idea I have of semiosis and para-semiosis—in his performance and the reaching for I’ve just described, in which he’s situating these things in a certain kind of relationship, this is where the thinking is taking place. What he calls intellect-in-action is what he’s reaching for, what he’s performing. What I’m saying, in addendum, is if we focus on intellect-in-action as process, as semiosis, and think about the problematic he is approaching, which is the problematic of blackness, in those terms, we arrive at what I call the poiēsis of blackness. The poiēsis of blackness is itself a process of thinking, of thinking in and with signification. We could very-well consider it a practice of Black Study.

    FM: When we go to look for the poiēsis of blackness, when we seek it out as an object of study, where do we seek it out? In other words, let’s say that there must be slippage between ‘true sociology’ and ‘science of mind’; then, by the same token we could say that in spite of the fact that there is this precarious pathway from one to the other, that precarious pathway is a pathway that Du Bois takes, and that he encourages us to take, so that we are on our way, as it were, towards a science of mind, which would take up and be interested in, and be concerned with, while also enacting in that study, what you’re calling, after Du Bois, intellect-in-action, but what you would also call a poetic sociality. I want to hear you say a little bit more, and be a little bit more emphatic, about what the object of study is or whether there is, in fact, an object of study that can be differentiated from the mode of study. Where do we go to look for this intellect-in-action? Where do we go to look for this black poetic sociality?  Am I right in assuming that where we go to look for it is in what you described earlier as these discrete multiplicities, which we are, in fact, enacting in that search?

    RAJ: The poiēsis of blackness, and this is what I argue Du Bois performs, I want to be emphatic here, is process and object. It’s doing what it’s talking about. As I’ve already said, I paraphrase Du Bois’ term, intellect-in-action, as “thinking- in-action.” Hence, the title of my new book is, Sentient Flesh (Thinking in Disorder/ Poiesis in Black). There is an emphasis on disorder, precisely because this thinking is not already circumscribed—and here I have in mind Heidegger’s notion of the concept’s circumscription by order. But it’s a thinking that occurs in the fluidity of multiplicities, and in its articulation, articulates discrete orders that have a particular life in activity but aren’t eternal. They’re always on their way to the next. This is what Du Bois talks about as the asymptotes of the hyperbola, invoking the continuum hypothesis; that these things approach one another toward infinity without ever touching. Assuming human knowledge and provable absolute truth to be the hyperbola in Du Bois’ analogy, there’s a long discussion we can have about ethics being the point at the center of the hyperbola where the transverse axis, “law,” and the conjugate axis, “chance,” meet. Any such point of conjunction becoming what Comte calls états, “states,” and we can call orders of knowledge.  We might, in that Comtean way, understand these états as expressions that articulate specific institutions— now I’m speaking very much like Vico— that have material traces, that we can call “culture” or “civilization,” we have all kinds of names for these, but that are fundamentally dynamic, and so are not enduring in themselves. What endures is the process. So, the object is precisely these discrete multiplicities at many registers. We could talk about this in terms of sets. But as the object of knowledge and analysis, it is so performatively. One does not come at that object from someplace else, but one is doing the very thing that one is talking about, and so it becomes a way of attending to one’s thinking in action which I’ve called elsewhere “eventful thinking.”

    FM: You just said it is a way for one to attend to one’s thinking in action. But earlier you spoke of thinking-in-action, intellect-in-action, discrete multiplicity, in what might be called set-theoretical terms. Is it, in fact, more accurate to say that it is the individual who is engaged in both the enactment and the study of intellect-in-action?

    RAJ: It’s the individual, as I said in our earlier discussion of this, in relation; and it’s a dynamic relation. So, it’s not the individual standing alone; it’s not the individual as one, but the individual as an articulation of the semiosis in tandem with other individuals. And I put it that way because one must be careful . . .  I’m not arguing for what Husserl calls the transcendental subject, where there is this notion of the articulation of the individual in relation to others, but it’s raised up to another, again, transcendent level at which there is a particular kind of integrity that then filters down. There is no transcendence here. By my reading, there is no transcendent position in what Du Bois is trying to do, and what I’m trying to do with what Du Bois is trying to do. The reason there is no transcendent position in what Du Bois is trying to do specifically, and this is expressly in his work, is because his immediate object of concern is “the Negro.” And he’s trying very hard to understand how the Negro is, what the Negro is.

    FM: When you say “the Negro,” do you mean a Negro?

    RAJ: No. Because Du Bois doesn’t mean a Negro. He’s talking about what one could call an event. And when he’s asking how it is, he’s trying to understand the situation of the event. In other words, he’s trying to understand the ways in which what we would call modernity has articulated this event, and not only what that event is, but how that event is articulated, how that event works, how it acts. What is activity within, around that event? Or to put it differently, this is why when he talks about it in terms of “the souls of black folks,” he’s not being Hegelian, he’s not talking about Geist. He’s concerned with the ways in which that event, in its historical specificity, permits, enables, and encourages particular sorts of activity; and he wants to know what that activity tells us or says about the human condition or possibility. Nahum Chandler talks about situatedness at that level in Du Bois, and what he says it does is, “engenders a paraontological discourse.” I want to avoid, for reasons we can go into, the paraontological. Some of the reason has been indicated in what I’ve been saying about Du Bois’ critique of teleology, his critique of the limitations of number, which has to do with eschewing a very specific investment in a transcendent discourse of being qua being. And I’m thinking very specifically about the provenance of the term “paraontology.” Oskar Becker coins the term, “Paraontologie,” or “paraontology” as a corrective augmentation to Heidegger’s phenomenological analysis. A mathematician, Becker was also one of Husserl’s students, along with Heidegger at Freiburg. In fact, both served as his assistant, and his expectation was that the two of them would continue his phenomenological research, with Heidegger doing so in the human sciences and Becker in the natural sciences. Anyway, Becker coined the term in his 1937 essay, “Transzendenz und Paratranszendenz” (“Transcendence and Paratranscendence”), to counter Heidegger’s displacement of Husserl’s eidetic reduction in favor of the existential analytic. Becker tries to counter Heidegger by reconstructing eidos as the primordial instance when the possibility of interpretation is presented. He calls this primordial presentation of presentation a Paraexistenz, “paraexistence,” and its phenomenological investigation is the Paraontologie, “paraontology.” This is a challenge to Heidegger’s claim that existential analytic of Dasein brings us to fundamental ontology. Becker wishes, thereby, to redeem the possibilities of a super discourse of being qua being. A key element in his argument with Heidegger is the identification of mathematics and ontology. Along those lines, he was making a particular kind of intervention into set theory. When Lacan some years later begins to pick up the issues of set theory before moving onto topology, he deploys a term that is very similar in connotation to Becker’s paraontology, par-être, “the being beside.” But even Lacan’s articulation of par-être, as a way of trying to move against the philosophical discourse of ontology— psychoanalysis as the anti-philosophy—runs the risk, as Lorenzo Chiesa has said, of slipping back into the ontological. Of course we know Badiou, who follows Lacan expressly in this, like Becker, identifies mathematics with ontology, maintaining that while mathematics does not recognize it is ontological in its project, philosophy is there to recognize it and to mediate between it and poetry. This is one of the reasons I have a problem with paraontology, it takes us back to the position wherein the discourse of philosophical ontology is reaffirmed as dominant. While I trouble Chandler’s sense of the situatedness of the Negro generating the discourse of the paraontological, I concur with his gesture to try and find the adequate language to denote the same process I’m calling para-semiosis. This process is what I think he’s reaching for when he says the paraontological. I just wouldn’t want to call it paraontological, I would want to call it precisely para-semiosis, or para-individuation; where, again, it is not the individual as the one, but the way in which the individual— we talked about it in terms of impersonation earlier—is in relationship to others who are being articulated; and their articulation exposes the conjunction of law and chance, as Du Bois would put it. I say, the conjunction of multiplicities of semiosis, or para-semiosis.

    FM: So, when we seek to pay attention to the event of the Negro, or try to understand the way in which the event of the Negro is articulated, what we must seek out and what we are trying to pay attention to are Negroes-in-relation, or a-Negro-in-relation?

    RAJ: I would put it somewhat differently. I wouldn’t say the event of the Negro. I said Du Bois was focused on the Negro as event. He’s very emphatic on using the term, “Negro,” and his emphasis is instructive. In his argument with Roland Barton about it, he’s actually arguing for multiplicity, that the term “Negro” designates multiple multiplicities. It’s a term that in its usage connotes multiplicities; and it connotes the historicity of multiplicities, and that’s why he wants to keep it. And so when I say that the immediate object of his concern is the Negro as event, I mean multiplicities as event. So one can say that Du Bois’ is really concerned with the event. Not the only event, but Negro as event, Negro as an instantiation of event, and in understanding the particularities of that instantiation, we begin to understand the situatedness and the eventfulness of thinking.

    FM: And what do these particularities of instantiation look like? Where do we seek them out? How do we recognize them?

    RAJ: This is where I agree with Du Bois, in the million life practices of those pressed into embodiment as Negro . . .  that flesh which is disciplined and pressed into those bodies, which can purport this eventfulness in all of its historicity, what you would be calling “a Negro,” or in another sense, Negroes, or black. In being so disciplined to embody the event in this way, as Negro, that flesh manifests this eventfulness in its life practices and performances. And we can begin to look at specific discrete forms in dance, juba dance, or the Buzzard Lope dance— something I always talk about because I’m preoccupied with it a bit lately—and, as we talked about earlier, musical forms in which this enactment of eventful thinking is formally immanent. Not only formally but conceptually. I mean that those performing these activities have an expressed poetic knowledge, a technē poiētikē, wherein there is no hard distinction between fleshly performance and conceptualization of being-in-the-world. In other words, the performance articulates a conscious existential orientation. Take, for instance, the Buzzard Lope. Referring back to Bess Lomax Hawes’ 1960 film of the Georgia Sea Island Singers of Sapelo island performing the dance, in her interviews with them, they explain the choreography and what is the significance of what they’re doing in great detail; we would say, they’re theorizing it in a way that exhibits how they are cognizant of the event of the thinking.

    FM: But what’s crucial, what is absolutely essential to this articulation, is the disciplining of flesh into discrete and separable bodies. It seems to me that what you were saying, and I’m trying to make sure I’ve got it straight, is that what’s absolutely essential, or what is a fundamental prerequisite for paying attention to this thinking, or this intellect in action, is a process through which flesh is disciplined. And by disciplined, I take that to mean also separated into individual bodies, which can, then, become an object of analysis and understanding and accounting at the same time that they can also becomes a condition for this other, anti-disciplinary articulation.

    RAJ: And then it becomes an object. Yes, this is central to my thinking. Here I want to mark again a difference between me and Du Bois. For Du Bois, it is an unavoidable irreducible historical event and fact itself; which is the reason why he thinks the Negro is an important instance for understanding how humanity constitutes itself. He talks about this in “My Evolving Program,” where he says something to the effect, “that here we have human beings whose conditions of formation under tremendous violence are a matter of documented record. The juridical discourse is rich; the commercial discourse is rich. And what they’ve done under those circumstances, tells us something about how and what humans are.” This was behind his directing of the projected 100 year Atlanta Study project. When I talk about this in terms of the existential issue of the flesh being disciplined I’m paying very close attention to Spillers’ “Mama’s Baby and Papa’s Maybe” in this regard, because one of the things that I think needs to be attended to in that essay is that there is no moment in which flesh is not already entailed in some sort of semiosis, that it isn’t written upon or written into some order of signification. In other words, that flesh coming out of Africa is not a tabula rasa. There is no such thing as a homo sapiens tabula rasa. By definition, homo sapiens is that creature of semiosis, so it becomes then an issue of multiple orders of signification and semiosis in relationship to one another. And of course in the history of the constitution of the Negro, it becomes one of a putative hierarchy of semiosis and the conceit that it is possible to eradicate other semiosis in the favor of one. The fact that this flesh isn’t tabula rasa, it is always baring some hieroglyphic traces as it were, and we should not confuse those hieroglyphic traces, embodiment, with the flesh. So the flesh does not disappear. Here’s where I’m riffing on Spillers –flesh does not come before the body; flesh is always beside the semiosis. There’s a very particular statement from a 1938 WPA slave narrative that I find very useful, and that is Thomas Windham’s remark: “Us deserve our freedom because us is human flesh,” in which he’s articulating a conceptualization of a taxonomy of flesh, of humanity, in which fleshiness is not a substance underneath in which other things are written over, but it is an ineraseable constitutive element in the articulation of thinking, of being. Also inerasable—think of this in terms of a palimpsest— are all of the various ways in which there has been a writing with the flesh.

    FM: When Windham says, “Us is human flesh,” is this “us” to which he refers, and this “human flesh” to which he refers, didivdual or individual? Or a better way to put it would be, is it separable from itself? In other words, is there discretion in and of the flesh before the imposition of body as a specific modality of semiosis?

    RAJ: I’m not sure I understand your question, if I take it at its face value, either I’m suggesting or you’re construing me as positing the flesh as some sort of ideal substance. I thought I just said it’s not a tabula rasa.

    FM: It doesn’t matter to me if it’s a tabula rasa or not, and I would agree that there’s no flesh independent of semiosis, but we’re talking about a specific semiosis, namely the specific semiosis that imposes upon flesh the discipline of body. The reason I‘m asking the question is because it struck me, though maybe I misunderstood, when you said that when we start to pay attention to whatever you want to call it, black poetic sociality, or intellect- in-action, there’s a specific process by which it comes into relief. And one aspect of that process, which I called crucial—but I’m happy for you to explain why “crucial” is not the right word—is a kind of disciplinary element in which flesh has imposed upon it body, in which flesh has body written onto it or over it. Can you say something more about that process?

    RAJ: When I said “crucial,” I meant crucial for me and not crucial for Du Bois. And I was trying to mark how, for Du Bois, the constitution of the Negro is a historical fact; that here we have a population, to put it poorly, which has been stripped bare, and in that moment of being stripped bare, stripped of its own mythology, stripped of its own symbolic orders, is compelled to embody a whole other set of meanings, which it embodies. What they do in those given bodies is what he wants to focus on as showing what humans can do. I will take “crucial;” I say “crucial” because, for me, the intervention of modernity, the moment in 1662 in Virginia, or in the code of Barbados, or in the Code Noir—all of which expressly as juridical discourses define the Negro body—that is the superimposition of embodiment onto the flesh. Remember the Christian missionary-cum-ethnologist, Maurice Leenhardt’s conversation with the Canaque sculptor, Boesoou, on New Caledonia, where he suggests to Melanesian that Christianity’s gift to their thinking was the concept of the spirit. Boesoou has a retort, something like: “The spirit? Bah! You did not bring the spirit. We already knew the existence of the spirit. We were already proceeding according to the spirit. But what you did bring us was the body.” The spirit he refers to is not the Cartesian qua Christian esprit but the Canaque ko, which circumscribed, let’s say, by marvelous ancestral influx. Leenhardt, of course, misconstrues Boesoou’s retort as confirmation that the Canaque had created a new syncretic understanding of human being, combining the circumspection of ko with the epistemology of Cartesianism. The body becomes clearer as the physical delimitation of the person, who is identified with marvelous ancestral world, or as Leenhardt puts it,” the mythical world.” Roger Bastide will rehearse Leenhardt’s exegesis of Boesoou’s response some twenty-six years later and critique it as being no more than a scholastic reformulation of Aristotle’s notion of matter as the primary principle of individuation. Instead of an affirmation that the Canaque had assumed the Western concept of bodily delimited personhood, Bastide reads in Boessou’s retort affirmation of a continuing Canaque semiosis, in which personhood—personal identity, if you want—is not marked by the frontiers of the body.  Rather, it’s dispersed at the cross-roads of multiple orders of referential signification, semiosis, which, I would say, are in relation to the flesh. In other words, there are multiplicities of hieroglyphics of the flesh, to use Spillers terms, indicating a divisible person akin to Du Bois’ “double-consciousness,” and which should not be confused with psychosis. So, for me it’s crucial, just as it is for Spillers, that “body” ‘belongs to a very specific symbolic order. We can track its genealogy in what we would call loosely the Judeo-Christian tradition, or if you want, Western Modernity; and by the time it gets to the 17th century it has a very specific articulation, which Michel Foucault and Sylvia Wynter have tried to trace for us. And so, yes, that moment is crucial because that moment is a beginning moment; not in terms of origin because, in that invention of body, in imposing it upon the flesh in this way, it does indeed reveal, highlight fleshliness, and the inerasibility of flesh, as well as the inevitability and inerasibility of acts of writing on the flesh.  So that what Spillers calls “African forms” in “Mama’s Baby, Papa’s Maybe,” are semiosis that write the flesh, they don’t write the flesh in terms of body, but they still write the flesh and they don’t go away.

    FM: Yes!

    RAJ: Even though the moment of the Code Noir is meant to completely suppress them. As Barthes would say, whom Spillers is using in that essay, would somehow steal the symbolic significance from those other semiotic orders for its purpose. The fact of theft notwithstanding, it never quite does completely steal it away.  And we know this. To talk about the specifics, when Lucy McKim, William Francis Allen. and Charles P. Ware begin to collect spirituals on the South Carolina Sea Islands during the Civil War, they’re writing in their notes and in their published pieces about how they hear rumors of these worldly songs, or the ways in which looking at those forms that the slaves are performing, there are recognizable Christian traces, structures and forms, but then there’s this other stuff that’s there they call “African,” and their slave informants called “worldly.” Those are indications of not only the continuation of the other semiosis that articulated relation to the flesh, but also a theorization of it in the fact that the informants are saying this is “worldly.” Those early collectors of spirituals borrowed from their informants this sense of, “oh, there are these worldly songs and these work songs that are doing this and that.” Beginning with McKim, who was the first one to actually try to notate the sonics of Negro-song, they all relate a certain “untranslatability” of these worldly forms. She says flat out that she can’t notate them. They are forms and structures and sounds that exceed the laws of musical notations. So we have these express references to the para-semiosis – and that’s why I call it para-semiosis – at work associated with the particularity of those populations called ‘Negro’, and that para-semiosis is brought into relief by the imposition of a body. Yes, it’s crucial, it’s an inaugural moment in the association of those human beings designated and constituted within the political economy of capitalist modernity as “Negro” and the poiēsis of blackness as para-semiosis. But I want to be clear, while the poiēsis of blackness has a particular association with the Negro, as para-semiosis, it is not just particular to the Negro. What is particular to the Negro with respect to para-semiosis is that the imposition of Negro embodiment brings into stark relief—and in a remarkably singular way—para-semiosis as species-activity. Para-semiosis does not begin with the Negro—demonstrably, it is prevalent among the Africans pressed into New World slave bodies, which is why Sidney Mintz called it “pan-Africanization.” I do not mean to suggest para-semiosis is uniquely African, whatever that term connotes, but it is, perhaps distinctively so. Distinctively African para-semiosis notwithstanding, I am in accord with Du Bois: in the very the forcefulness of Negro embodiment, the recognizable persistence of para-semiosis—call it what you may: syncretism, creolization, Africanism, of even poiesis of blackness—is indicative of a species-wide process. To say that poiēsis of blackness equates with pan-Africanization is to mark the historicity of the Negro as a specific embodiment of sentient flesh in space and time. That is to say, the specific situation that instantiates its poiēsis. Yet, insofar as that poiēsis is a function of para-semiosis, it’s a potentiality-of-being that might very-well attend other embodiments of flesh.

    FM: It is part of the general history of the imposition of the body which is brought into relief at this moment as a function of our particularity.

    RAJ: And what interests me tremendously, and here I am now pushing beyond what Du Bois sets out to do, is the fact that those semiosis not only are continually articulated and become part of improvisation, but they are articulated in a way that is consciously about multiplicities, para-semiosis! So, there’s a way of thinking that attends to the event, that is eventful, that does not forget the event, that does not try to re-cast the event as origin, does not try to re-imagine the flesh as a pre-eventful origin to which one can be returned, and does not try to escape the event; but rather, because the imposition of the flesh necessitates a perpetual movement to escape the deadly effects of the body. One way that I talk about this in Sentient Flesh is in terms of the way in which the disciplining of the body is systematized, legalized, and is about what Derrida calls, the cannibalism inherent to capitalism. And there are numerous stories about the practices of consuming these Negro bodies, acts of torture where they’re consumed for the economy, but also acts of simple pleasure. There’s the story of Thomas Jefferson’s nephew by his sister Lucy, Lilburn Lewis, who butchered alive his seventeen-year-old slave, George, in the kitchen-cabin before all his other slaves by cutting off his limbs one by one, starting with the toes, pausing with each cut to give homily to the gathered slave. Returning home, to the Big-House, he then tells his wife, who has asked about the horrific screams she’d heard, that he had never enjoyed himself so well at a ball as he had enjoyed himself that evening.

    FM: This is so interesting. It brings to mind a recent book that I’ve found very instructive, Edward Baptist’s The Half Has Never Been Told. I think what he’s very effective at showing how what he calls “second slavery” is an intensification of both the economic and erotic investment in the imposition, and then in the subsequent subdivision, of so-called black bodies.

    RAJ: And the consumption of them! So the point I‘m making, then, is that precisely while they’re not trying to escape the event, they are in flight from the deadly consequences of embodiment, of the body being consumed. And being in flight, in movement, they continue to articulate eventful thinking. To try and anticipate the question you’re going to raise about specificity and concreteness, Frederick Douglass is upset with what he calls “Juba beating.” He’s scandalized by it because it serves the capitalist consumption of time and of consciousness and it’s barbaric. One of the interesting things about it is that the very thing he doesn’t like is part of what I’m calling “the flight from” that is not escaping the event of the superimposition of body upon flesh, but in fact marking the continuation of other semiosis that is foregrounding the eventfulness of being in the flesh, which is why I take Windham’s remark, “Us is human flesh,” as being very important. Because Juba is about beating the body. Think about it in terms of the story I just told you about Lilburn Lewis. Here we have – and there are many, many stories we know that—here we have a systematic structure that is about disciplining and consuming and torturing the body, beating the body in the service of either commercial consumption or . . .  much of the torturing of the body is simply erotic. And with juba, the bodies that are being treated in this way— again the flesh that has been disciplined to be this body – here they’re beating the body, but they’re beating the body in accordance with another semiosis, that of producing rhythmic sounds for dance. And many of the juba lyrics parody the consumption structure of capital, so they are also resistant. In the performance, they are continuing the eventfulness of being in the flesh, and they’re working the flesh.

    FM: They’re refusing, in a sense.

    RAJ: And in working the flesh in that way, they’re showing that the flesh can be worked, can be written upon in a way that is other than the body.

    FM: It is a refusal of the body, in a sense.

    RAJ: They can’t refuse the body; which is why I call it para-individuation and para-semiosis.

    FM: But I say a refusal of the body in full acknowledgement of the fact that when all is said and done, the body can’t be refused. It’s an ongoing process of refusal that does not produce or finish itself.

    RAJ: I hear what you’re saying. I would agree with that. More than the refusal of the body, however, I want to emphasize the articulation of the eventfulness of writing flesh. The reason I want to emphasize this is because, to give a concrete example, when you listen to Peter Davis—who was one of the performers of the Buzzard Lope reported on by Lydia Parrish and subsequently recorded by both Alan Lomax and Bess Lomax Hawes—talk about what they’re doing with juba and what they’re doing with the Buzzard Lope, he’s presenting the aesthetics that they’re invested in, this is the act of poetic creativity, where they’re generating, transmitting and generating, a way of being.

    FM: It’s an extension and renewal of a semiosis of the flesh.

    RAJ: That is, again, an articulation of those semiosis already there when the semiosis of the body is superimposed on the flesh. Those semiosis have to be modified with the imposition of the body, they have to work with the body. I agree with you about refusal, but I’m wanting to emphasize what it is that they’re creating, that thinking, that eventful thinking; which is something not even more than refusal, but other than refusal. And, it’s in that otherness than refusal; which is my way of seeing in these particulars something of what Fanon talks about in terms of “doing something else.” In that other than refusal, there may—and here I’m again agreeing with Du Bois—there may be there signs of how humans can endure, if you will, capitalist modernity, and that’s why I draw analogies to what happens in Tunis, when the slogan, “Ash-sha‘ab yurīd isqāṭ an-niẓām” (The people want to bring down the regime), which paraphrases a hemistich  from Chebbi’s 1933 poem, Itha a sha‘ab yumān arād al-hiyāh—commonly translated as “Will to Live,” but more literally rendered as “If the People One Day Will to Live”— functions as a way of articulating a certain kind of collectivity in relationship to juba and buzzard lope. They’re doing something very analogous to juba and Buzzard Lope.

    FM: But the reason why it seems that refusal is an appropriate terms is based on my understanding of something you just said which is that what refusal does is both acknowledge the event of embodiment, while at the same time constituting itself as something like what maybe Derrida would call, after Nietzsche, an active forgetting of the event. Because, as you said, there’s no running away form that event that will have arrived, finally, at something else; there is no simple disavowal of that event, and if there is no simple disavowal of that event, then the event is acknowledged at the very moment, and all throughout the endless career of that refusal, which never coalesces into some kind of absolute overcoming. That’s why I was using the term, which, of course, doesn’t preclude your interest in and elucidation of something more or other than refusal. Maybe there’s always something other than or more than a refusal, though refusal is always there, as well.

    RAJ: I’ll accept your account of refusal, and still insist on the particular emphasis I’m giving to the eventfulness of writing flesh. It’s interesting you mention Nietzsche, because in Sentient Flesh, I elaborate on the way in which Du Bois’ 1890 commencement speech critiques the Nietzschean concept and project. First, by paraphrasing Nietzsche very closely in its account of the Teutonic and problematizing the tension or the dyad, Teutonic/submissive, Teutonic/Negro. And then secondly, by foregrounding, at least in my reading of it, the imperative not to forget in the Nietzschean way. So I’m willing to say, yes it is refusing the body, but not forgetting the eventfulness of the imposition of the body, the perpetual imposition of the body, what Tony Bogues refers to as “continual trauma.” But, in that not forgetting, performs other possibilities of being, I’m wanting to avoid the therapeutic gesture of forgetfulness, which for Nietzsche, of course, has to do as well with a need of forgetting the foundational cruelty of man.

    FM: There is something that I have thought about a lot, so I’m interested in whether you think this, too. It comes back to Spillers’ work and specifically “Mama’s Baby, Papa’s Maybe.” What you’re talking about alongside Spillers, you recognize it as something that is explicit in Spillers. But there is something about it that could be mistaken for implicit, which therefore makes it vulnerable to being forgotten. It’s this ongoing semiosis that I won’t say is before, or I won’t say precedes, but that shows up, let’s say, or comes into relief, in another semiosis, which is, in fact, this imposition of body. But so many of the readings of Spillers that have become prominent are readings that are really focused on what she talks about elsewhere in that essay under the rubric, “theft of body.” So I wonder if part of what made the reception of (Dis)forming the American Canon so difficult for Afro-American Studies, or for that particular formation in the academic institution, was that those studies had become so primarily focused on what Spillers refers to as the theft of body, which she associates with slavery. This emerges in another way, much later on, without any reference to or acknowledgment of Spillers’ prior formation of it, in the work of Ta-Nehisi Coates who also speaks of this theft of body.

    RAJ: Yes, this has become a predominant and unfortunate misreading, in my view, of “Mama’s Baby, Papa’s Maybe.” It is explicit, remember she talks about captive and slave bodies. This is very careful phraseology on her part. She’s marking the movement in which the flesh becomes these bodies so that they can be captured. And so the focus becomes on that second move forgetting that no, no, no she’s giving us an account of how this body gets constituted, which is central to the whole piece. And then there’s her elaborate engagement with Barthes; she says she’s talking about Barthes’ theory of myth. And if you go and you read what Barthes has done there and what she’s doing with it, this is exactly what she’s focusing on, the semiosis of the body’s theft of the signification of the flesh, and then from that point on, this becomes the captive enslaved body.

    FM: But there are just so many readings which are so focused on the theft of body, perhaps because “theft of body” is a resonant phrase that has no analogue that shows up in the text say as “imposition of body.” Perhaps the focus on “theft of body,” emerges from the way it resonates with another phrase, “reduction to flesh.”

    RAJ: That reception of Spillers’ essay is less a reception in Black Studies than it becomes a reception in Feminist Studies in Critical Studies, and Sedgwick and Butler and many others who have their own critiques and investments in the problematic of the body, investments that are themselves circumscribed within the discourse of the body; so, they read Spillers accordingly. Nevertheless, Spillers’ is quite explicitly attending to the way the semiosis, the symbolic order of the myth of the body, in Barthian terms, steals the signification of the fleshly semiosis.

    FM: I’m not trying to make the argument that it is not explicit in Spillers. I’m trying to make the argument that it does not manifest itself with regard to a phrase that is easily detachable from the rest of her argument, from the rest of the article. For some reason, the phrase, “theft of the body,” has been detached from the rest of that essay. And similarly, “reduction to flesh” has been detached from the rest of that article. And what I’m trying to suggest is that this tells us something not only about the reception of her essay in 1987, but the reception of your book in 1993. And I’m not talking about the (white) feminist reading or the women’s studies reading, I’m really specifically trying to zero in on something that happened in Afro-American Studies, including in its crucial and foundational feminist iterations. So when I think through the question of the fate of your first book, my hope for the renewal of a reading of it, is tied to my hope for the taking up, in a much more rigorous way, of the analytic of the flesh that Spillers is a part of, that obviously Du Bois is a part of, that you are a fundamental part of. That hope, with regard to a renewed engagement with Spillers, has been borne out in a lot of recent work. One thinks of Alexander Weheliye in particular, but there are many others. So, it makes me think a renewed engagement with (Dis)Forming the American Canon is sure to follow.

    RAJ: I know I’m making a hard case, and I understood your question. When I point to what happens with readers like Sedgwick and Butler, and others along that line, I’m underscoring a fundamental point I make in the opening chapter of (Dis)forming that is a critique of Black Studies, in which I recount the statement made by McGeorge Bundy, in his capacity as president of the Ford Foundation, to those individuals gathered at Yale in 197. What he told them was something to the effect that by instituting the field of Afro-American Studies the way they had, they were subjecting it to the metrics of academic scholarship. That statement was expressly endorsing the way Yale had gone about things, and implicitly differentiating it from the event of rupture at San Francisco State in ‘68 and ‘69, which was about a radical epistemological project breaking up the metrics of the academy, an attempt to reorganize the structures of knowledge in accord with profound dynamic social transformations. The Department of Black and Ethnic Studies at San Francisco State is not about business as usual, it’s about, and this is why they’re expressly invoking Fanon, taking seriously the notion of a new humanism and Fanon’s claim that the European moment is dead and now it is time to attend to our own demons and articulate something else, avoiding tribalism and other forms of reactionary identity such as religious doctrine that pose the greatest threats. In its Yale context, Bundy’s remark is implicitly against that, against the instituting of that. It’s as though he was saying: “No, this African-American Studies is going to be a continuation of the humanities as is.” At which point, what gets instituted is fully in accord with those other disciplinary discourses and it becomes part of the established hierarchical humanities. That continuation, which I refer to as “incorporation” in (Dis)forming, is what I was setting out to trouble, to mark that what was happening in African American Studies, per se, was merely part and parcel of what becomes a certain crises of the humanities in general . . .

    FM: It’s a re-imposition of the body.

    RAJ: . . . and epistemologically, it is continuing that story. So, it’s counter Fanon’s proclamation that the European epistemic moment is over with, and it’s a revivification and continuation of the European epistemic moment. Consequently, we’re forever talking about, frankly, the crisis and redemption of the bourgeois formation: Nativism versus cosmopolitanism, post-secularism, racial qua cultural authenticity versus appropriation, etc. To go back to the San Francisco State University moment, to take up a project like what I’m arguing is at stake in Spillers’ work, in Sylvia Wynter’s work—and I don’t think these gender issues are irrelevant— is to revive in the way in which the philosophers I was talking about earlier, Tommy Lott, Charles Mills, Tony Bogues, Lewis Gordon, and others, to revive that project of epistemic rupture, which would be a transformation of black studies as we know it.

    FM: But this is why I always thought the way Derrida glossed it was pretty cool, because the activity of forgetting is itself more along the lines of what we were talking about before as a kind of consistent and insistent displacement; that insofar as the activity of forgetting persists, it does not produce a thing which is forgotten, or does not produce the forgottenness of the thing. By that same token, the activity of forgetting does in fact manifest itself as memory precisely because it is the condition that allows us to access what comes before the event of embodiment even if at the same time we can never return to the moment of what’s before.

    RAJ: I’m trying to avoid the psychoanalytic accounts. Hence, when I say that with the event of the superimposition of the body, there are residual semiosis, those are residual in relationship, in adaption, to the moment of the event. They’re not before, but they’re brought into relief with the event of the body. It brings into relief the fact that the body is always inscribed upon, or rather that flesh is always written. In this moment of the event of the Negro, the Foulah, say, discovers his “Foulahness.” So, to pick an illustration from (Dis)forming, Kebe can say to Theodore Dwight, “I am not a Negro. You think I am a Negro but I am not a Negro because I speak and write Arabic. I am something else.” Now, what is brought into relief is the process by which another semiosis, in this case Foulahness, somehow as related to Arabic—which is why, then, the Foulah become characterized as the intermediary between the Negro and whatever—is brought into relief but only with the event of embodiment, which is one of the fundamental points I’m trying to make about Ben Ali and Lamen Kebe, and others.

    FM: The question I have now is about the relationship not between “thinking in disorder” and “sentient flesh,” but that between those two things and “subjective experience.” For me, there appears to be a paradox between subjective experience on the one hand, and thinking in disorder and/or sentient flesh, on the other hand. So can you explain to me why it is the case that these things are in fact not paradoxical?

    RAJ: This is a warranted question. In order to answer it I have to go back a bit to what is at stake for me in terms of the history of ideas, or knowledge, in what we’ve been calling “the event,” and specifically the event of the disciplining of the flesh as the body, the event of the Negro. What’s at stake there, and this is one of the points that I elaborate in the third chapter of (Dis)forming, when I start talking about Cugoano’s account of the encounter with the Incas, and Pagden’s account of the crisis that is precipitated by the discovery of the Aztecs. He of course presents this as a profound crisis, and it was, of cosmogony.  A very specific understanding of the order of the universe, predicated on scripture, which dictated that there were first and second order principles grounding the world. The ultimate source for the first order was scriptural truths; the second— physical things like cities of masonry, but also symbolic systems such as complex social hierarchy and structures of knowledge— was necessarily grounded in and affirmed the first. The event of the Aztec challenged that cosmogony because they exhibited the second order principles without the first. And this precipitated a huge crisis, manifested with the publication of Cortes’ letters. I understand that cosmogony in relation to the tradition of philosophical ontology—recall my earlier remarks about Du Bois’ critique of theistic teleology in “The Renaissance of Ethics,” in which he sees the crux of the problem in the historical alignment of Christian theology and Platonic-cum-Aristotelean ontology. Going back to the issue of the event of the Negro, I think it as well as the Aztecs are different moments of the same crisis inherent in the foundational elements of that cosmogony. And it is most specifically inherent in the discourse of philosophical ontology precisely because of its account of the relationship between subjective experience and intelligence, and thinking, and the way in which it posits subjective experience as being grounded in some transcendental or transcendent realm, which gets articulated in different ways in the language. The problem inherent in the discourse of philosophical ontology is that it cannot adequately account for the eventfulness of subjective experience, how subjective experience comes to be in the world and how it relates to the diverse events of the world, what we’re calling multiplicities, except that it has to somehow negate or do violence to those multiplicities in order to subsume everything to its proposition, which is the proposition of the ‘I’, of the one. This tension inherent within the discourse of philosophical ontology presents itself at different moments with different resolutions. What occurs with both the Aztec and the Negro is a solution to that crisis reaching a very particular moment. In the case of the Aztec, of those who come to be designated Amerind, among other things, such as Native Americans—a truly oxymoronic designation—the resolution is lost souls, souls whose redemption through evangelizing mission, whether coercive or persuasive, is divine mandate, thereby rescuing the integrity of the theological cosmogony. In the case of the Negro solution is reached in the context of the emergence of an order of political economy, capitalist modernity, which recalibrates and orders things in ways that are departing from the theological cosmogony. And one of the concrete manifestations of this departure is the enslavement of let’s say people from Africa, and they’re being subjected to a particular kind of very systemic and barbaric regimen of discipline. This generates very real crises: How can we do this to these people? What’s at stake in both these cases is precisely this perpetual crisis within the discourse of ontology, which they bring into relief and which must then be solved. The Amerind, the “Native” and “the Negro” become a solution. The problem is old and foundational, as I say. Aristotle is confronted with it in the Politics. In order to resolve the contradiction of a polis fundamentally grounded in anti-despotism and the necessity of patriarchal despotism in the maintenance of that polis, he has to discover a certain binary hierarchy in nature—which he genders— in order to make a distinction between orders of sentience and reason. Thereby he provides the warrant for the natural slave who is essential for the maintenance of the polis that is the ideal space in which the fulfillment of the human can occur. That’s one iteration of how this crisis is fundamental. It presents itself again, however, with the discovery of the New World, and the imposition of capitalist slavery; and the Negro, as well as the Native, are invented as a solution. So, when the Negro is invented, what comes into relief is the flaw in the philosophical ontology’s way of thinking about the experience and the individual, which is what I have been referring to as the concept of subjective experience. And what we’ve been talking about is the way in which, looking at Windham, there are other semiosis that are antecedent in their expression to that moment of invention and that continue within that moment. The confluence of these semiosis is what I refer to as para-semiosis as the event of thinking with the flesh, which involves or entails processes for articulating individuals who have experience, for lack of a better word, who not only don’t look like the subject who falls into the world, but the very material ways in which they express and articulate—the example given earlier was in ring dances and juba—are distinctively different from that. So the question becomes how do we think about or talk about that, and here’s where I want to use individuation because it foregrounds the semiosis, it is a process of semiosis, a way of trying to think about it in its operations, as opposed to slipping back to thinking about it in terms of what I referred to earlier as “white supremacy,” which would simply be preserving the place of that transcendent subject and filling it with a different color, or a different ethnicity. This, I think, is some of the problem of Black Liberation Theology, or the eschatological based notion of social justice that informs a good deal of one tradition of black resistance. In illustration, let me briefly remark the contrast between Windham’s assertion, “Us is Human Flesh,” and the distinction Frederick Douglass makes between hogs, horses and humans. Douglass is asserting that Negroes deserve liberty because they are transcendent beings, are fundamentally like everyone else. Windham asserts we deserve our liberty because we are human flesh. That’s the distinction I want to make between subjective experience and sentient flesh.  Individuation, and thinking in disorder becomes a way of trying to, first, in the instance of Du Bois because I associate it with Du Bois’ project, recognize, think with, that kind of process. We don’t want to Africanize America, but nor do we want to lose ourselves in America. What is this process? How do we talk about it? What is it doing? Now, I think that ‘Of the coming of John’, and John Jones, and what happens with John Jones there, becomes a way in which he can try to represent in literary terms such an individual, and precisely in the tension Jones has to the congregation of Altamaha and the terms of that tension.

    FM: I guess there’s one other question that I can ask, but you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to. Insofar as part of what your work entails is a recasting or retooling or reconfiguration of a term like ‘subjective experience’, it also includes a recasting, a reconfiguration, a rescue, whatever you would want to say, of other terms that have been placed under a certain kind of interdiction, like ‘the human’. And so the final question concerns what Nahum Chandler invokes with the term “paleonymy.” Again, I don’t know what the proper word would be—renewal or rescue, or rehabilitation, or re-inhabitation. How do you deal, how are we to deal, with the language of what, and where we’re going through?

    RAJ: A point of clarification and it’s important, it’s my slip, I introduced the term subjective experience when I read the passage from “Fanon and the Subject of Experience.” The point there was to mark a certain trajectory of my thinking and how long I’ve been trying to think through this. Fanon is a very particular point of departure where a certain set of questions about what is the nature of subjective experience and the possibility of its being historical occur and I explore them. I don’t talk about “subjective experience” in that way anymore, especially in Sentient Flesh. I concur with Nahum’s sense of paleonymy. I have a very particular investment in philology, which is part of my interest and training. What interests me is the way in which terms, in their changing connotations, still carry traces of antecedent thinking about certain problems. With regard to “the poetic” and “the human,” for example, poiēsis as a modality of generative creative representation, mimesis, specific to the biological species homo sapiens, is a key concept for the way in which Aristotle tried to define anthropos, what it is to be human. As the Islamicate philosophers understood, taking up the Alexandrian School’s inclusion of the Poetics in the Organon, the issue of poiēsis is related to Aristotle’s effort at addressing a problem that is still with us. That’s the problem of, one could say, the relationship between our thinking, our intelligence, and our fleshliness. As a problem of community or polity, it presents a series of questions. What are we? Why are we here, what is our purpose? How are we to be in relation to one another? In the Politics and Nicomachean Ethics, these questions get addressed in terms of the relationship between reason, structures of knowledge, and virtue, or ethics, putting in play a series of discourses and responses that bring us up to the crucial moment of the imposition, the discipline of the body. And all of those responses, all of those moments are still carrying through and are still in play now. Sometime around 1935-36 Heidegger started his effort at overcoming metaphysic, to which he traced the provenance of the concept of race. More specifically, he discovered the metaphysical basis of thinking about race was in subjectivity. He makes this discover just two-years after cofounding the Kulturpolitische Arbeitsgemeinschaft Deutscher Hochschullehrer,“Political-Cultural Community of German University Professors,” which was organized to regroup those professors and rectors who were committed to a National Socialist renewal of the German university system—and eight-years before Endlösung, “the Final Solution.” An event about which he cannot otherwise speak, and even speaking about it in this evasive way . . . no, because he speaks about it in this evasive way, he draws full attention to his culpability in suborning the ideology behind it. Nevertheless, there’s a critique there of the aspirations of humanism; not humanism as the Greeks articulated, but humanism as it emerges out of the early modern period, which take the Greeks as their model. And precisely because Heidegger’s effort to correct that taking of the Greeks as their model, to go back to the Greeks of his imagination, is tainted, it is instructive. It reveals the deep roots of European racism, which, Black Notebooks notwithstanding, he traces to the Platonic beginnings of what becomes ontology.  Those are moments that are addressing very particular local situations. Albert Murray eloquently explained the general significance of such moments when he describes his coming to realize that all expressions are metaphor, by which, he said, he means poetry. He’s clearly meaning that capacious Greek sense of poiēsis, it’s all art, it’s all creativity, it’s all metaphor. And that includes quantum physics and its attendant mathematical analysis. Murray expressly says that quantum theory understands this, and so it becomes a question of the necessity to constitute orders that are always contingent. This is his argument for the necessity of contingency, and each one of those particular ways of responding are style, and style matters. And the particularities of those styles can have resonance beyond that particular moment. As he says, the social sciences may be able to count and tell us what happened, but it is the metaphor, the poetic that speaks about what is mankind. Baldwin makes a very similar remark in his wonderful 1964 talk on the artist, the task of the artist, where he says that the statistician and the banker and the general may be able to perform all sorts of things but they cannot present to us what we are in the same powerful way that the poet does. So, my persistence in posing the question, who can speak for the human? Or even, how is the human? This is part of the commitment to understanding the multiple situations in which, let us say, human intelligence predicates itself on violence declaring beauty, truth, the good. There can be no generative history of the species if these cancerous growths are banished from sight. We must keep track of their traces. I don’t want to lose track of those traces, and that’s consonant with my notion of para-semiosis. In other words, those questions are still with us, and the controversy around the term is still alive, and it’s a controversy which means it’s unsettled. One particular aspect of its unsettledness, I think, has to do with the fact that, in all of that controversy, there has been disregard or little regard given, except in very specific quarters of black study. How those who were compelled and disciplined to embody Negroness address the question of human being needs to be explored. Not as an object of ethnographic or sociological analysis, or, especially, of primitivist Negrophilia. So that’s my investment, along with Chandler, in the continued commitment, the attentiveness to, the polyvalence, and the resonances, or reverberations to be more precise, of concepts that are attached to terms and the different concepts. And the same thing would apply then to the poetic for the moment along very similar lines. Hence, Windham’s remark, and the way that the tripartite movement you rightly noted is at play. There is there a conceptualization of the human that is useful in its inclusiveness in the same way that the 1805 Haitian constitution will go to extreme extents to forbid the presence of whites on the island, and then exempt Germans and Poles who fought for the cause, and then go on to talk about how Haiti is a family and the state is their father, and that it will now call Haitians ‘black’, and then Dessalines is asserting that Haiti as so named is not just a revolution for this place, but for all oppressed peoples of the world. So there is in that I’m saying an analogous effort to define the human to take up the concept as a broad species encompassing activity, and to name it, and to indeed recognize what is useful in the enlightenment conception of humanitas, which has a very complicated genealogy, and if we go back to Pico Mirandola.[7] who gave us the so-called manifesto of the renaissance, he attributes to the Muslims, to Muhammad. When he asks, ‘What’s the most spectacular spectacle?’, nothing more spectacular than man because of man’s capacity for auto-creativity, etc. etc. That is to mark that ‘humanism’ does not just come from the so-called tainted Greek tradition and its translation, but it comes to a point where we have this idea of a possibility of an inclusive universal species being that eschews, supersedes, family, clan tribe, nation, and if we take Du Bois at his word and his notion of ‘submissive man’ in the 1890 commencement speech, civilization.

    FM: Thanks, man, for everything.

     

    R.A. Judy is professor of critical and cultural studies in the Department of English at the University of Pittsburgh. He authored the groundbreaking book (Dis)forming the American Canon: The Vernacular of African Arabic American Slave Narrative (1992). His latest book is Sentient Flesh (Thinking in Disorder/Poiēsis in Black) (Duke University Press, 2020).
    Fred Moten teaches in the Department of Performance Studies at New York University. His latest book is all that beauty (Letter Machine Editions, 2019).

     

    Notes

    [1]. “Kant and the Negro,” Surfaces, 1 (October 1991): 1-64; reprinted in (Society for African Philosophy in North America (SAPINA), ed. Valentin Mudimbe.

    [2]. “Fanon’s Body of Black Experience,” Fanon Reader, ed. Lewis Gordon (London: Blackwell, 1996), 53-73.

    [3]. “Fanon and the Subject of Experience,” Theorizing Multiculturalism: A Guide to the Current Debate, ed. Cynthia Willett (Blackwell, 1998), 301-333.

    [4]. “Kant and Knowledge of Disappearing Expression,” A Companion to African-American Philosophy, ed. Tommy L. Lott and John P. Pittman (London: Blackwell, 2006), 110-124.

    [5]“The New Black Aesthetic and W.E.B. Du Bois, or Hephaestus, Limping,” Massachusetts Review Vol. 35, No. 2, Summer 1994. Eds. Jules Chametzky and Robert Gooding-Williams.

    [6]. “America and Powerless Potentialities,” Theories of American Culture Theories of American Studies, Yearbook of Research in English and American Literature, volume 19, ed. Winfried Fluck and Thomas Claviez (Tübingen: Gunter Narr Verlag, 2003), 129-154.

    [7] Giovanni Pico Della Mirandola, Oration on the Dignity of Man, trans. A. Robert Gaponigri (Washington D.C.: Gateway Editions).

  • Tony D. Sampson and Jussi Parikka — The New Logics of Viral Media

    Tony D. Sampson and Jussi Parikka — The New Logics of Viral Media

    This essay is a part of the COVID-19 dossier, edited by the b2o editorial staff. 

    by Tony D. Sampson and Jussi Parikka

    Up until recently, work on a universal theory of virality seemed to always cut a somewhat marginal figure in media theory. In the early 2000s, when we first started to publish articles referring to digital contagions, immunology, epidemiology and viral networks, it was no surprise to us that although our claim to universality seemed significant, it would remain of ancillary concern to mainstream media theory. After all, media and communication studies were supposed to be about establishing connection; not the opposite of it!  We were regularly questioned about our use of a ‘viral metaphor’ and what it meant to the development of a new model of digital media. The hyperbolic focus on viral marketing did not make it any easier for us to argue that there were deeper material levels of virality that required immediate attention.

    However, now, all of a sudden, unpredictably, and rather shockingly, viral media stands at the centre of contemporary issues both materially, economically, and socially. In the wake of global uncertainty and anxiety caused by the uncontainable spread of Covid-19, there has been an abrupt move to the viral – from the margin to the middle. As we are all now discovering, Covid-19 is an epochal pandemic. The health and survival of massive scale populations are at stake, engendering panicked political responses and exposing the underlying impact of years of austerity in public policy, not least in healthcare. Virality is, as such, both entirely relevant and resolutely non-metaphorical.

    This outbreak has also, understandably, drawn urgent attention to the workings of a viral logics that criss-crosses from biological to cultural, technological and economic contexts. We can now all see how, through sometimes direct experiences, universal virality becomes a techno-social condition of proximity and distance, accident and security, communication and communication breakdown. Indeed, it is in the current context of Covid-19 that our understanding of the movement of people and messages is framed by the logics of quarantine and confinement, security and prevention. Furthermore, virality automates affective reactions and imitative behaviours that relate to different visceral registers of experience compared to those assumed to inform the logic of the market. Which is to say, the mainstream cognitive models that are supposed to support the failing economic model of rational choice (if indeed anyone really ever believed in Homo Economicus) are replaced by seemingly irrational and uncontrollable financial contagion. Moreover, recent outbreaks of panic buying of toilet roll and paracetamol, some of which have been sparked by the global proliferation of Instagram images of empty supermarket shelves, are spreading alongside the early scenes of isolated Italians, impulsively bursting into songs of solidarity and support from their balconies followed up by similar scenes in many other countries and cities. All of these are peculiar contagions because, it would seem, they are interwoven with contagions of psychological fear, anxiety, conspiracy and further financial turmoil; all triggered by the indeterminate spread of Covid-19.

    To think these contagions through in a media theory frame is, for a number of reasons, a complex task. We are, after all, dealing with an ecology of technological, biological, and affective realities moving about in strange feedback loops. Contagious agents are not simply biological; their agency always arrives in plurality.

    Future predictions are taking place against a backdrop of contested epidemiological models, reliant on, for example, the uncertain thresholds of herd immunity or total social lockdown. Certainly, following a sustained period of comparatively stable risk assessment, mostly based on known knowns and known unknowns, we have just entered a vital, possibly game changing phase in which unknown unknowns will prescribe the near future.

    We have to concede that, from the outset, the universality of our viral logics has itself been contested. There have been at least two other models of media virus that we know of. Whether or not it was the first to do seems rather inconsequential now, but Douglas Rushkoff’s Media Virus, published back in 1994, proposed an early viral model that could be harnessed to manipulate the new media. The information-virus, and latter concepts of spreadable media, perceptively challenged the assumed entrenchments of the old ideological state apparatus model of media, pointing toward a novel McLuhanesque participatory culture. We can, perhaps, in retrospect, trace the celebratory nature of this viral logics all the way to the fantasy of revolutionary social media contagions during the Arab Spring.

    The second media virus appeared in the early noughties. It was extracted from a few loose remarks made in the latter pages of Richard Dawkins’s neo-Darwinian Selfish Gene thesis of 1976. In Susan Blackmore’s neo-Darwinian Meme Machine, for example, we find a media virus which functions according to an evolutionary algorithm. The neo-Darwinian meme doctrine emerged in various millennial discourses, mostly those associated with the rhetoric of viral marketing and the computer viruses/antivirus arms race. As some viral marketers claimed, contagion may seem accidental, but the pass-on-power of a media message could be memetically encoded (and harnessed) to spread as determined.

    The universality of the third media virus – the one we proposed in the early 2000s – was intended to be more theoretically nuanced, certainly in regards to its approach to mechanisms and the question of whom or what does the harnessing. To begin with, our universal virus was more closely aligned to a viral event, or accident of contagion, than it was analogous to, or metaphorically related to, its biological counterpart. We could indeed learn more from the capriciousness of computer viruses than we would by merely looking for analogical relations. As follows, digital contagion provided insights into the modelling of the contagious behaviours of autonomous agents. Similarly, just as computer security became a core focus of digital media practices, the broader implications for virality in network culture also implied the shared legacy with epidemiology and its goal to simulate the spread of diseases. Multi-agent-based modelling was one context where contagions were initially allowed to spread, creating a bifurcated discursive formation between the burgeoning field of artificial life research, on one hand, and the tight link between measures of security and automation, on the other. Along these lines, then, early automated software processes were often grasped as artificial contagions that went beyond the human control of complex computational networks, requiring a further automated immunological response.

    Another aim of the universal virus was to reject biological or technological determinism in favour of a transversal contagion. In short, this meant that no one mechanism determined contagion since the relationality and accidentality of the viral event superseded deterministic thinking. Contagious behaviours are not solely  predetermined by an evolutionary code, as such. The universal virus also clearly relates to the complex array of unknown unknowns triggered by environmental interactions. Indeed, the vectors of contagion, and any subsequent security response to these environmental conditions, will prove to be effective only after the fact. These are paradoxical environments in which the mode of future predictions, based on existing models and reliant on historical data and assumptions, becomes at odds with the necessary open-ended nature of a shared communication network.

    Of course, the story of contagion modelling – either as epidemiological modelling or as conceptualising theoretical models – is not reducible to contemporary network culture. To better grasp the bizarre nature of the kinds of contagious loops we are experiencing with Covid-19, the universal virus also made significant references to nineteenth century contagion theory. Most notably we borrowed from Gabriel Tarde’s society of imitation thesis, which, like Paul Virilio, focused on the accidents of mechanism, rather than a mechanism’s logic. Moreover, Tarde’s imitative social subjects were not the victims, but rather the products of contagion. It is, indeed, in the accidental relations of contagion, that Tarde’s subjects are continuously made and remade.

    Like the inexplicable behaviours of crazed shoppers panic buying toilet rolls in recent weeks, the subjectivities that are produced in Tarde’s society of imitation are conspicuously rendered docile sleepwalkers. However, Tarde’s many references to social somnambulism must not be misconstrued as an understanding of society founded entirely on collective stupidity. Importantly, his references to sleepwalking were informed by the absence of a distinction he made between a biological nonconscious inclination and sociocultural tendencies to imitate. In other words, Tarde’s social subjects, including those that were supposed to be making rational economic judgements, are never self-contained. They are both, simultaneously, etched by the affect of others and leaking their own infectious affects. Again, following the logic of the universal virus, recent outbreaks of panic buying and seemingly irrational market trading, are examples of further unpredictable automations of bodies and habits.

    Back in early the 2000s, we argued for a universal virus that made a resounding, yet subtle break from established media theory analysis of contagion, doggedly couched in representation. Viruses were not solely metaphorical, figurative or indeed myths that covered up an underlying ideological reality. Following the Covid-19 outbreak, the universal virus can certainly no longer be considered as a conjured-up fantasy, projection, or for that matter, in the current context, a crude biopolitical invention  strategically placed to justify measures of containment. Although, for sure, there are multiple levels of political aims at play, not least in terms of the recurring question of immunological borders, the logic of this virus is now, for the time being, the overriding power dynamic. Far from providing a convenient allegory for action, the very real viral event of Covid-19 is currently producing its own reality according to which our habits and worlds must bend and adapt.

    Universal viruses are nonrepresentational in the sense that they make their own physical and metaphysical infrastructures of connectivity, while exposing the underlying social strata upon which – as epi–demos – they function. Along these lines, the legal theorist Andreas Philippopoulos-Mihalopoulos contends that Covid-19 presents a Spinozian contagion in terms of how bodies relate to each other and their environment. The “challenge of Covid” is, he argues, “monumentally ethical.” This is because the virus “demands of us to accept a quintessentially Spinozan ethics of positioning, of emplacing one’s body in a geography of awareness of how affects circulate between us and others.”[1] This viral patterning of habit and behaviour is no longer merely a question of homophilic identification (connecting to friends, parents, etc.), but radically expands to modes of connection and disconnection co-determined by collective bodies that are being positioned in relation to each other, to space, to borders, to containment, etc.

    The viral patterning of Covid-19 will continue to spur a range of actions, habits, behaviours and affects that might take a hold of bodies in more predictable or previously unimagined ways. Certainly, some of the pegs that fix the future of biopolitical movements of people and messages will no doubt produce more docile sleepwalkers. It is not surprising that the UK government initially opted for a neoliberal version of herd immunity in which collective obligation was pitched alongside business as usual. Even now, in its current state of belated lockdown, the UK’s unequal distribution of Covid testing sees leading political figures and royal family members prioritized over frontline health workers. In the US too, Trump’s reluctance to accept Covid-19’s utter disregard for capitalism seems to be making his country a deadly hub for infection. Indeed, what seems to unify the far-right at this moment is its propensity toward Covid-denial, exemplified by Trump and Bolsonaro’s regime in Brazil. Apparently, sales of guns and ammunition are soaring across the US as fears of Covid-19 prompt bunker mentality and self-protection. It is also the case that the reported spread of the virus has been coupled to an intensification and extension of population racism. In the UK, again, the spread of so-called maskaphobia has led to many Chinese students having to opt between what sociologist Yinxuan Huang calls “two bad choices – insecurity (for coronavirus) and fear (for racism).”[2] Ultimately, urban spaces may well be redefined by state controlled measures of social distancing, on one hand, or these kinds of fear-driven detachments, on the other; both of which clearly contrast with the themes of the classical sociology of cities, which grasped urban spaces as locales of dynamic collective density.

    The logic of the universal virus might also produce novel spatiotemporal realities for collective grassroots systems of care. In the wake of Covid-19, we are already witnessing more than the spontaneous emergence of songs of solidarity. Spain is currently nationalizing private hospitals; Iran is releasing political prisoners from jails. These are new spatiotemporal realities produced by Covid-19 that could counter the broader context of what Achille Mbembe has referred to as necropolitics. After the dark refrains of Trump, Brexit and subsequent intensifications of population racism, for example, the horror of Covid-19 might actually clear the way for some kind of large-scale radical reaction that addresses these recent corruptions of the global political scene and its role in quickening climate change and the biodiversity crisis. After the applauding of brave health workers and songs of the shutdown subside, painful social, economic and political struggles will inevitably follow the virus. How these struggles manifest against the shifting backdrop of disciplinary confinement and control by way of statistical inoculation and the abandonment of eradication are yet to be seen.[3] New political assemblages might be triggered, at least temporarily. The question we need to ask now is: what are you doing after the lockdown? We do not mean this to be a catchy social media meme, or indeed a misquotation of Baudrillard, but instead we propose it to be the looming political question we must all face.[4]

    The French version of this text is published on AOC. You can find it here.

    Tony D Sampson is a critical theorist with an interest in digital media cultures. His publications include The Spam Book, coedited with Jussi Parikka (Hampton Press, 2009), Virality: Contagion Theory in the Age of Networks (University of Minnesota Press, 2012), The Assemblage Brain: Sense Making in Neuroculture (University of Minnesota Press, 2017) and Affect and Social Media: Emotion, Mediation, Anxiety and Contagion, coedited with Darren Ellis and Stephen Maddison (Rowman and Littlefield, 2018). His next book – A Sleepwalker’s Guide to Social Media – will be published by Polity in July 2020. Sampson also hosts the Affect and Social Media international conferences in east London and is co-founder of the community engagement initiative the Cultural Engine Research Group. He works as a reader in digital media cultures and communication at the University of East London.

    Jussi Parikka is Professor at University of Southampton (Winchester School of Art) and Visiting Professor at FAMU at the Academy of Performing Arts, Prague where he leads the project on Operational Images and Visual Culture (2019-2023). In 2019-2020, he is also Visiting Chair of Media Archaeology at University of Udine, Italy.  His work has touched on questions of virality and computer accidents in the book Digital Contagions: A Media Archaeology of Computer Viruses (2nd. updated edition 2016, Peter Lang Publishing) and he has addressed questions of ecology and media in books such as Insect Media (University of Minnesota Press, 2010) and A Geology of Media (University of Minnesota Press, 2015). The Lab Book, co-authored with Darren Wershler and Lori Emerson, is forthcoming in 2021 (University of Minnesota Press). Parikka’s site is at http://jussiparikka.net.

    [1] Andreas Philippopoulos-Mihalopoulos “Covid: The Ethical Disease”. Critical Legal Thinking: Law and the Political, 13 March 2020: https://criticallegalthinking.com/2020/03/13/covid-the-ethical-disease/

    [2] Sally Weale “Chinese students flee UK after ‘maskaphobia’ triggered racist attacks: Many say China feels safer than Britain amid coronavirus crisis and increasing abuse”. The Guardian, 17 Mar 2020: https://www.theguardian.com/education/2020/mar/17/chinese-students-flee-uk-after-maskaphobia-triggered-racist-attacks

    [3] Philipp Sarasin “Understanding the Coronavirus Pandemic with Foucault?” Foucault Blog, March 31, 2020: https://www.fsw.uzh.ch/foucaultblog/essays/254/understanding-corona-with-foucault?fbclid=IwAR0t0C9bY3D-j-gyjtxj1f6CDz-0kY0KtgnCUhj9LAuOwMc4r7CC0BxAjSc

    [4] See also Tuomas Nevanlinna “Poikkeustilan julistaminen on äärimmäistä vallankäyttöä, mutta ratkaiseva hetki koittaa kun se lakkautetaan (Declaring a state of emergency is an extreme exercise of power, but the crucial moment comes when it is lifted)”. Kulttuuricocktail, 26 March 2020: https://yle.fi/aihe/artikkeli/2020/03/28/tuomas-nevanlinna-poikkeustilan-julistaminen-on-aarimmaista-vallankayttoa-mutta

  • Jonathan Ratcliffe — Rebooting the Leviathan: NRx and the Millennium

    Jonathan Ratcliffe — Rebooting the Leviathan: NRx and the Millennium

    Jonathan Ratcliffe

    This essay has been peer-reviewed by “The New Extremism” special issue editors (Adrienne Massanari and David Golumbia), and the b2o: An Online Journal editorial board.

    Recently something rather unexpected happened. Curtis Yarvin began writing again. A decade ago, back in the spotty youth of the internet when blogs meant something, Yarvin, a Silicon Valley computer programmer, made a cult name for himself under the nom de plume of reactionary political philosopher Mencius Moldbug. Often memed, frequently cited as an important ancestor of the “alt-right” (but largely left unread) and father of the online political movement known as NRx/neo-reaction (which has been declared dead endlessly since at least 2013), Moldbug may well be the only notable political philosopher wholly created by and disseminated through the internet.

    In his journey from Austrian Economics to attempting to update early modern absolute monarchy for the information age, Yarvin regularly churned out tens of thousands of word screeds on his blog Unqualified Reservations (UR) about the need to privatise the state and hand it over to an efficient CEO monarch to keep progressives out, the Christian roots of progressivism, and encomia to nineteenth century Romantic Thomas Carlyle. All of this was so liberally coated in rhetorical irony and Carlylean bombast that it was often difficult to tell what was supposed to be serious and what was not. Moldbug was among the first to discover the power of reactionary post-irony, though these days of course, playing long-read rhetorical games to affect ideological change seems a rather primitive affair. The work of post-irony can now be compressed into a couple of memes very easily.

    Between 2007 and 2010 Moldbug was immensely prolific. Thereafter UR petered off as Yarvin turned his efforts increasingly towards developing a blockchain-based data-storage scheme called Urbit.[1] By 2014, when Moldbug began to become a household name across the internet as the social media platforms were increasingly politicised, Moldbug was pretty much finished writing. In April 2016 UR was wrapped up with a “Coda” declaring that it had “fulfilled its purpose.” The same month attendees threatened to withdraw from the LambdaConf computing conference because the “proslavery” Yarvin would be speaking at it (Towsend 2016).[2] To this Yarvin (2016a) wrote a reply insisting on the innocence of his Moldbuggian stage as simply a matter of curiosity about ideology. The same year in an open Q&A session about Urbit on Reddit, Yarvin (2016b) was more than happy to answer some questions about Moldbug and defend both projects as parts of a dual mission to democratise the current monopolies controlling the internet and to dedemocratise politics for the sake of enlightened monopoly.

    In early 2017, following Trump’s election, rumours began to circulate that Yarvin was in communication with Steve Bannon, though nothing came of this (Matthews 2017b). Around the same time Yarvin was quoted as supporting single-payer healthcare (Matthews 2017a). News also surfaced that Yarvin was on a list of people to be thrown off Google’s premises, should he ever make a visit (Atavisionary 2018). Then, early in 2019, Yarvin (2019a) quit Urbit after seventeen years on the project, causing some to wonder whether Moldbug might now make a return. Old rumours also began to get about the place that Yarvin was behind Nietzschean Twitter reactionary Bronze Age Pervert (BAP), especially after Yarvin passed a copy of BAP’s book Bronze Age Mindset to Trumpist intellectual Michael Anton (2019) with the insistence that this was what “the kids” are into these days. And now Yarvin has started publishing again, under his own name, a decade on from the salad days of UR. On the 27th of September 2019 the first of a five-part essay for the conservative Claremont Institute’s The American Mind landed, titled “The Clear Pill.”

    If Moldbug/Yarvin is famous for one thing, it is that he’s the fellow who put the symbol of the “red pill” into reactionary discourse. The “Clear Pill” promises to be a reset of ideology in which progressivism, constitutionalism and fascism will each receive an “intervention” through their own language and values to show up how “ineffectual” each is (Yarvin 2019b). Thus far this “clear pill” sounds all rather typically Moldbuggian–for Yarvin it has always been about resetting the state and the rhetoric of undoing brainwashing. Anyone passingly familiar with the oeuvre of Moldbug knows that Yarvin is more than capable of speaking all three of these political dialects reasonably well, even if, as Elizabeth Sandifer (2017) astutely notes, Moldbug is so deep in neoliberal TINA, he is unable to take Marxism seriously as a contemporary opponent at all. For Moldbug the American liberal pursuit of equality was always more “communist” than the USSR, which is to say, paranoid reactionary hyperbole aside, that he only ever regarded Marxism as an early phase of progressivism.

    And yet, six months on from the first part of the “Clear Pill”, only a second of the promised five parts has thus far been published. Part two (Yarvin 2019c), or “A Theory of Pervasive Error” appeared on the 25th of November, and, so one might surmise, even the most die-hard Moldbug-fans must have found it somewhat lacking. The initial purpose of the piece seems to be to outline a theory of human desire that utilises the Platonic language of thymos (courageous spirit), but ends up sounding far closer to a Neo-Darwinian Hobbes than anything else. Human beings are petty and selfish beasts, we are encouraged to believe. The essay meanders on until it finally arrives at the simple old Moldbuggian point that because liberal “experts” in governance and science have a touted monopoly on truth, they should not automatically be trusted. That’s it. By taking such the long way around to say something so simple and banal, the result is more than a little anticlimactic. Perhaps after all these years the bounce has gone out of Yarvin’s bungy; his lemonade has gone flat.

    The only other piece to appear on The American Mind from Yarvin since “A Theory of Pervasive Error” has not been part of this “Clear Pill” series, but a stand-alone essay published on the 1st of February 2020 titled “The Missionary Virus”. In this Yarvin argues that the recent coronavirus pandemic offers an unparallel opportunity to dismantle American “internationalism” and reboot a politically and culturally multi-polar world while economic globalisation continues. Imagine, Yarvin asks the reader, what it would be like if the virus did not go away and the travel bans lasted not a month, but a decade, or centuries. One thing can be said about this essay that cannot be said of the “Clear Pill” so far – at very least it is entertaining. Perhaps parts three to five of the “Clear Pill” will actually say something interesting after all.

    Indeed there are all sorts of questions that are still left unanswered. Will the crescendo of part five simply restate the need to privatise governance and let the market system work? Will Yarvin take some drastic new turn or even disown Moldbug? Will he finally acknowledge eccentric death-cultist Nick Land, who, for the best part of this decade has largely been the “king” of NRx as a political ideology? We must wait and see.

    ***

    Obviously, a great many people of all manner of political bents will be lining up to release their takes on the “Clear Pill” when it is finally done and dusted. I most certainly will be among them because, sad to say, I’ve been trying to work out Moldbug/Yarvin for years now. It’s very easy to brush him off as something archaic and nasty and even structurally predictable–a little racist ghoul who wants a CEO emperor–a desublimation of the Silicon Valley unconscious, a monstrous giving the game away about the fears and imperial pretensions of our techno-optimist masters. On this account Moldbug is very, very important indeed. Ten years ago, for Moldbug the solution was as simple as handing over California to Steve Jobs to run as a business, because Steve Jobs is very good at solving problems. The Moldbuggian wedge (esp. 2008a) was the belief that in the US, the two elite groups are “Brahmin” progressive intellectuals (who are bad) and the pragmatic businessmen (who are good), which is bizarrely very close to the recent terminology (but not ideology) of Thomas Piketty’s research (2018) on American and European elites in the Post-War Period.

    Nevertheless, today the remnants of Moldbuggery as an ideology seem to spend their time bemoaning “woke capital”–that those with the talents and power to make something like Moldbug’s “patchwork” of privatised city states come true all seem to be believers in the various progressive gender and racial talking points of the present. But here’s the thing–Moldbug was never one to spend his time huffing and puffing about gender politics like just so many of his tradcath monarchist and other old school reactionary fans do, who somehow seem to imagine him as some new Joseph de Maistre. In spite of his night terrors about ghetto warlords and migrant invasion (see: Moldbug 2007d, 2008a), Moldbug/Yarvin always made efforts to appeal to “open-minded progressives”–there will always be room in the “patchwork” for dope and death metal (2008c); a privatised California’s welfare system of dividends would be so good it’d give the sick bionic wings (2008b: 99); prison in the future will be replaced by being put to sleep forever in VR (2009e); the American Empire sucks because it pretends that the world is made of independent countries, but rather than improving things, it keeps them as quashed clients and puppets (esp. 2008b).

    But what if Moldbug always-already was “woke capital?” As I have written at length elsewhere (Ratcliffe 2018a, 2018b), the godawful possibility is that Mencius Moldbug was a kind of political basilisk that once thought, cannot be unthought–that he is a left liberal arriving from a cursed future, the obscene image of the juggernaut of hyper-capital with a human face haphazardly sutured to the front of it, like one of those awful homemade Thomas the Tank animations one finds at the bottom of YouTube at three in the morning. Although she doesn’t mention Moldbug, Vicky Osterweil’s diagnosis of a Silicon Valley liberal “left fascism” decidedly hits the nail on the head concerning certain aspirations of Amazon and friends to buy up whole towns and to remake the globe:

    Rather than invoke Herrenvolk principles and citizenship based on blood and soil, these left fascists will build nations of “choice” built around brand loyalty and service use. Rather than citizens, there will be customers and consumers, CEOs and boards instead of presidents and congresses, terms of service instead of social contracts. Workers will be policed by privatized paramilitaries and live in company towns. This is, in fact, how much of early colonialism worked, with its chartered joint-stock companies running plantation microstates on opposite sides of the world. Instead of the crown, however, there will be the global market: no empire, just capital. (Osterweil 2017)

    Does this not sound so terribly Moldbuggian that it makes the skin itch? Against this sort of thing what is needed is a healthy combination of strong local communities committed to telling Google and Amazon to shove it–or whatever else it is that might succeed them–matched with commitments by governments to break up these companies and prevent private police forces. Even better would of course be nationalisation of these companies and handing them over to worker-control. Nonetheless, the dismal old Guild Socialist localist in me finds contemporary dreams of simply nationalising the miserable and soulless infrastructure of our present, such as we find in recent texts like The People’s Republic of Walmart (Phillips and Rozworski 2019), not only supremely vulgarian, but at present as unlikely as the possibility that the neo-reactionaries will ever get their future of a consciously reactionary world governed by Megacorps.

    For now, at least, we’re all stuck with the political and corporate monopolies we let happen–none of us can “head for the exit,” not even the Zuck. We’re all locked in the same room together. Leviathan is not going to be letting anyone’s people go, not for all the hyperstitional meme magic of a couple of cut-price Twitter occultists thinking that NRx v.2.0 is simply supporting all secession movements and waiting for a rich papa to make the private state a reality. Liberalism is a jealous “Mortalle God,” as its primordial violent father Thomas Hobbes would say. As we will see later, Hobbes remains the most important figure for understanding NRx, its “woke” corpocratic mirrored other, and liberalism in general.

    The possibility of the “left fascist” Moldbug draws out attention to the oft-overlooked fact that there was more than one Moldbugpolitik outlined on UR over the years. I think I’ve managed to isolate at least three strains thus far. Moldbug 1 is the Moldbug we’ve been talking about. This is the “neocameralist” of the 2008 “Open Letter to Open-Minded Progressives” who is simply trying to make anarcho-capitalist Hans Hermann Hoppe’s “patchwork” of private states sound cooler by adding some extra monarchy aesthetics and criticism of the American Empire (Moldbug 2008b). This is the Moldbug from which (with an added injection of race and IQ sorcery and the removal of Carlyle in favour of Malthus) Nick Land builds his variant of NRx. You have ideology as a parasitic virus, the powerlessness of populist reaction, open borders chaos, shiny futuristic city states. While this Moldbug might on the surface look like he is all about the sovereign One–the single absolute ruler–the “king” is of course simply someone hired by a body of shareholders to get their city to make money. If the mediaeval Christian monarch had “two bodies”–one mortal and the other his immortal perpetuation down the generations–then the immortal body of the Moldbuggian CEO is that of the corporate personhood of the joint stock company behind the scenes. You may go to sleep for hundreds of years, but when you wake up Wayland-Yutani will still be there.

    Moldbug 2, from the “Gentle Introduction,” on the other hand, is the Moldbug (2009d) of what its section 9d calls “The Plinth”: an unabashed attempt to theorise a vanguard party like Hitler’s or Lenin’s with cells everywhere and then simply taking over government. This is the “populist” Moldbug that Nick Land doesn’t want you to know about, though some of the more “trad” reactionaries have been interested in it, as I have discussed in the past on my Mechanical Owl blog (Ratcliffe 2018a, 2018b). Moldbug 2 is a total departure from Moldbug 1 because the earlier version seemed so adamantly convinced that popular reaction in America is instantly crushed by the liberal media: it is “a mile wide and an inch thick … like taking on the Death Star with a laser pointer” (2008b, 116). One wonders what Moldbug 2 thinks of Trumpism and its effectiveness thus far.

    Then we come to Moldbug 3. This is a strange theocratic Moldbug (2013) we find in a single late post on UR, in which he praises the political coherence and mass appeal that Christian reactionaries in the US such as Lawrence Auster sometimes seem to possess. We are told by Moldbug that because of this it is highly likely that “when our dark age ends and the kings return, if ever, it will be under any banner but the Cross,” which of course the tradcaths have endlessly cut and pasted across the internet without context. What is most interesting about Moldbug 3 is that Moldbug/Yarvin is an avowed atheist “secular humanist.” In the post in question he even writes about telling his daughter that God is just Santa for grown-ups. It is, however, not so uncommon to find atheist reactionaries who believe that Christianity has an important utility as a “social technology”–whether for supporting patriarchy, keeping Islam at bay or providing a collective myth that can be used to bolster nationalism.

    Nonetheless, this Moldbug 3 stands in stark contrast to the main Moldbuggian discourse we find in the 2007-8 Moldbug 1 in which Christianity is found historically to be the root behind “progressivism.” Moldbug 1 (2008b, 58 & 104-7) is especially fond of colourful language about American political history as “creeping Calvinism,” “Quaker thuggery” and “applied Christianity” concerning the pursuit of equality and universalism. This is perhaps why I keep coming back to Moldbug and giving him the time of day. Moldbug 1’s only truly remarkable idea was his grand narrative about millenarianism and modern liberal politics. Millenarianism is the idea of the imminent (and immanent) arrival of a “Third Age” of Christianity in which the world becomes a realm of plenty and universal equality after the old order is scoured from the Earth by the Apocalypse. As Revelation 21:4 promises: “And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.” As we will see below, such notions have had a profound formative effect on the progress narratives of modernity.

    Moldbug 1 avidly believed that progressivism is the mainstream American political tradition, a “W-Force” child of Calvinist and Quaker universalism that developed through the seventeenth century British Whigs. In a very early blog entry entitled “Universalism: Post-War Progressivism as a Christian Sect” Moldbug claims:

    Universalists, as descendants of Calvin’s postmillenial eschatology, are in the business of building God’s kingdom on Earth. (The original postmillennialists believed that once this kingdom was built, Christ would return–a theological spandrel long since discarded.) The city-on-a-hill vision is a continuous tradition from John Winthrop to Barack Obama. In Britain, the closely-related Evangelical movement used the term “New Jerusalem,” which I’m afraid never really made it across the pond, but expresses the vision perhaps best of all… What’s really impressive about Universalism is the way in which this messianic teenage fantasy power-trip has attracted, and continues to attract, so many people who don’t believe at all in the spirit world, only smoke weed on the weekends, and think of themselves as sensible and down-to-earth. Of course, the belief that all Universalist ideals can be justified by reason alone is a necessary condition. But Christian apologists have been deriving Christianity from pure reason since St. Augustine. You’d think these supposedly-skeptical thinkers would be a little more skeptical. (Moldbug 2007a)

    Moldbuggian rhetoric aside, it is difficult to find anything shocking about the millenarian ancestry of progressive thought. But then again it is not 2007 and thankfully our collective social neck is not quite as gormlessly bearded as it once was. I think it is a dashed good thing indeed that there is a long history of marvellous radical Christians like the Baroque Levellers and Diggers of the Civil War who “turned the world upside down” (Hill 1991), the Anabaptists of Thomas Müntzer who called for the princes to be killed (Cohn 1962), and even earlier, mediaevals like John Ball, who famously asked during the Peasant’s Revolt “When Adam delved and Eve span, who then was a Gentleman?” One cannot do nigh on two millennia of something and not have it rub off in a myriad of strange ways, even if the End always seems to defer and remain not yet. America especially is no exception to this.

    As Jonathan Kirsch (2006, 185) in his astounding History of the End of the World pertinently puts it, America is the land of two millenarian “tectonic plates” that developed out of the radical protestant belief that the New World was where the New Israel would be built. The first plate, that of aspirations towards theocratic “dominionism” and purchasers of rapture insurance is the obvious one and remains primordial. The other, however, increasingly secularised from the 17th century under the belief that America was the exceptionalist future land of techno-commercial and social progress. The “two plates” give us all the worst parts of Moldbug 3 and Moldbug 1, the theocrat often predictably accompanied by the vilest forms of prosperity theology and racism and so too the Silicon Valley techno-optimist. But this weird mutant geology also gives us the only force Moldbug could really be scared of, the ghost of a radical “applied Christianity.” The gap between Moldbug 1 and Moldbug 3 must be drawn out in consideration of hidden theological core of NRx itself. So too will I suggest that to attempt to recuperate and come to love the Moldbuggian accusation of “Quaker thuggery” might be a very useful idea indeed.

    ***

    There is nothing odd at all about the notion that a great deal of modern values are secularised theological ones. Nearly a century ago now Max Weber (1976) and R. H. Tawney (1948) famously had a great deal of insightful things to say about Anglo-American Calvinism, the protestant work ethic, and the spirit of capital. Moldbug, curiously, mentions Weber only once to my knowledge, concerning the ruler and “charisma” (Moldbug 2009a), yet somehow manages to avoid having to talk about the theological ancestry of his own very American arch-capitalist belief system. For that matter, he never says anything about one of the most frequently-cited (but generally rather shallowly analysed) heroes of monarchist reactionaries, Carl Schmitt.[3] In the 1920s Schmitt (2005) launched the field of juridical genealogical investigation called “political theology” that declared that the modern secular ruler is modelled on the voluntarist God of Ockham who acts with trans-rational potentia absoluta (absolute power) to create a miraculous “state of exception” during emergencies.

    Through leftist thinkers such as Giorgio Agamben (esp. 2011) and Roberto Esposito (2015) “political theology” has undergone a revival in recent years, exploring the political-theological genealogies of subjects such as neoliberal economism, personhood, human rights, ownership, victim-blaming and imperialism. So too from Ernst Bloch (2000) and Walter Benjamin (1940) to Slavoj Žižek (with Gunjevic 2012) there has long been a recognition of the Jewish and Christian apocalyptic and universalist roots of Marxism. From the more conservative side, not only Schmitt, but Oswald Spengler (1926) in his discourse on “Faust” and “Gothic Christianity,” Eric Voegelin (2000a) on “Gnosticism,” and Carl Löwith (1949) too, all had a great number of valuable things to say about the history of secularisation and the pursuit of the millennium. Thus, when NRx torchbearer Nick Land claimed in a 2017 interview for reactionary podcast Red Ice Radio that “hardly anyone, still, has really begun to dig down into [the destiny of Western Christianity’s] contemporary relevance” concerning leftist universalisms (Land and Palmgren 2017, 27m.20s-28m.10s), it is hard to think how Land could be any more incorrect if he tried.

    But from where did Moldbug get his “creeping Calvinism” thesis? I have often wondered if it was from Eric Voegelin, who occasionally garners a passing mention or two in American “paleocon” circles. Voegelin (2000b, 71-2 & 185-7) argued that in the Anglosphere something very strange had happened after the Reformation, a “Second Reformation” in which the newer branches of Protestantism, such as Wesleyanism and Methodism, had been instrumental in the push towards democratisation through their belief in social equality and community participation. This, so Voegelin believed, had immunised the Anglosphere against the worst of Fascism, Communism and Positivism compared with continental Europe. Voegelin (2000b, 61-2), however, was also very much aware of the less savoury aspects of this “Second Reformation.” The idea of building a totalising community of elect believers could end up in the sort of paranoid pressure cooker epitomised by Calvinist Geneva, or many of the other “perfectionist” efforts that we find in early America attempting to build the New Israel. It is a startling idea indeed to ponder whether the American reactionary religious commune and the experimental hippie commune might be two sides of the same coin of “election.” Even stranger would be to wonder if the inverse of the language of theocratic “dominionism” is that of egalitarian social justice.

    Nonetheless, the only mention Yarvin has ever made of Voegelin was during his apologia of Moldbug in relation to the LambdaConf scandal (2016a). Here Voegelin is invoked in relation to his thesis that the variety of Christian thought that has informed so many of modernity’s “political religions” is Gnostic–that is, it makes a claim to totalising knowledge of reality and its manipulability in order to replace God with its own unshakeable race of supermen as the agents of history. To Voegelin in order to produce his total system, the Gnostic, whether Positivist, Fascist, Marxist or Liberal, must forbid the asking of questions about doctrine and must selectively forget extremely obvious problems that could get in the way of remaking the world. As Yarvin (2016a) quotes him:

    In the Gnostic dream world…non-recognition of reality is the first principle. As a consequence, types of action that would be considered as morally insane because of the effects that they will have will be considered moral in the dream world. (Voegelin 2000a, 226)

    Voegelin continues that the gap between the real and the desired world is then used to project the immorality onto some other for not behaving in accordance with the thinker’s personal fantasies. Yarvin (2016a) utilises this to claim that what he finds real may seem like a daydream to others and vice versa.  Now, all this may well have simply been Yarvin attempting to find an obscure thinker he liked to feed back to left liberals the cliché cultural relativism and perspectivism he believed they would accept. There’s little chance anyone would have accepted the idea that it’s okay to be reactionary simply on the basis of it’s just, like, my opinion, man. The thought that deep down “free speech advocate” Curtis Yarvin (as his reply to his critics titles him) might really be Richard Rorty saying we’re all numinously entitled to our own truths and will just live together in pragmatic tolerance is rather hilarious. Moreover, it is hard to believe that he could possibly read Voegelin so badly as to think that he’s saying that we are all supposed to be deluded like this. To Voegelin, who was a highly complex Christian Platonic realist, this sort of consciousness was a very bad thing indeed.

    Rather, the earliest articulations one might find of Moldbug’s “creeping Calvinism” thesis (2007a, 2007b) seem to come from a different place, from a previously undeveloped libertarian discourse that anarcho-capitalist Murray Rothbard had conspiratorially hinted at in “World War I as Fulfillment: Power and the Intellectuals”:

    Also animating both groups of progressives was a postmillennial pietist Protestantism that had conquered “Yankee” areas of northern Protestantism by the 1830s and had impelled the pietists to use local, state, and finally federal governments to stamp out “sin,” to make America and eventually the world holy, and thereby to bring about the Kingdom of God on earth. The victory of the Bryanite forces at the Democratic national convention of 1896 destroyed the Democratic Party as the vehicle of “liturgical” Roman Catholics and German Lutherans devoted to personal liberty and laissez faire and created the roughly homogenized and relatively non-ideological party system we have today. After the turn of the century, this development created an ideological and power vacuum for the expanding number of progressive technocrats and administrators to fill. In that way, the locus of government shifted from the legislature, at least partially subject to democratic check, to the oligarchic and technocratic executive branch. (Rothbard 1989)

    Can we trust Rothbard as an historian? When American libertarianism began to self-consciously develop after WWII and create for itself a grand narrative against the dominant Keynesian economic consensus of the time, it fixated on and hypertrophied conservative beliefs that the New Deal and events leading up to it were the Fall and betrayal of a “real America” of laissez faire and free trade, transforming the Gilded Age into a primaeval Golden Age now lost. In the earliest stages of his thought, Moldbug 1 simply seems to be working from this rather typical right-wing American position. He even insists (2008b, 193) that should 1908 America suddenly appear in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, it would be able to outcompete 2008 America hands down. Nonetheless, Rothbard appears to have opened up the religious dimension as an answer for this Fall to Moldbug. In early Moldbug 1 (2007a, 2007b) the Fall is augmented with obscure conservative texts on the role played by the evangelical churches in encouraging the New Deal, occasionally supplemented by more mainstream sources now forgotten.

    For instance, in the June 2007 UR post “A Short History of Ultracalvinism,” we find a small 16th of March 1942 article from Time magazine cited, titled ‘American Malvern” that reports on “the high spots of organized U.S. Protestantism’s super-protestant new program for a just and durable peace after World War II.” These include “Complete abandonment of U.S. isolationism…International control of all armies & navies…A universal system of money so planned as to prevent inflation and deflation… Autonomy for all subject and colonial peoples” (with much better treatment for Negroes…).” Should it be at all shocking that the churches, both liberal and conservative, ever had a key role to play in encouraging the idea of a beneficent American imperialism? No, I do not think it is, not a jot. Moldbug, however, simply takes the article to indicate that in the intervening half century Time “has become as stupid as its audience,” the implication being that the average reader in 1942 would have been as suspicious as 2007 post-Iraq II Moldbug about America’s global “civilising mission.” Let us not forget that the tiny isolationist paleoconservative movement of people like Pat Buchanan was only rediscovered by Moldbug, Richard Spencer and others following the collapse of faith in the myths of neo-con missionary interventionism with Iraq War II. As Moldbug (2008b, 6) says at the start of his “Open Letter,” in recognition of both the openly religious and crypto-religious faith behind interventionism, the American military was now busy “doing donuts on the road to Damascus.”

    Having been led by Rothbard back to the 19th century in search for a solution to the Fall, Moldbug then decided to go back much further into the 17th century to trace a history of protestant radicals undermining the power of the absolute monarch. Moldbug’s actual evidence for this period is very thin. We find Hooker’s complaints about non-conformists, but that is about it. One might expect Moldbug to cite something like Christopher Hill’s The World Turned Upside Down (1991) on the relevance of 17th century British radical non-conformism to twentieth century politics or the astounding appendix on the pantheistic and free-love heresies of the Ranters in the 1962 edition of Norman Cohn’s The Pursuit of the Millennium. He never does.

    But why is Moldbug so interested in early modern absolutism? This he seems to have acquired from anarcho-capitalist Hans Hermann Hoppe’s anti-democratic screed Democracy: The God That Failed (2007) in which monarchism is celebrated for being simply the vast private ownership of land. The absolute ruler is thus reinvented as the ultimate capitalist landlord, the perfect model for creating a future world of privatized territories. One is strongly reminded of Xenophon’s Oeconomicus in which the Persian Great King is represented as simply a very big and powerful homesteader in a world of patriarchal homesteaders. Nevertheless, the fact should remain that Austrian Economics is infamous for its beliefs that capitalism has always existed and that economics began not in primitive accumulation or ritualized gift economies, but in barter. There are no changes in economic modes for the Austrian, and the long history of the temple in the development of money, loans and credit is completely ignored. The eternal foe is simply those who would threaten the natural right of the eternal “rugged individualist’s” private property.

    Thus, for Moldbug, the history of modernity is reinvented as a wrong turn–the rise of Christian radical egalitarian movements through the Whig Party who sought to undermine the rights of the absolute ruler as private owner. One wonders what Moldbug would make of Carl Schmitt’s (2009) marvelous Hamlet or Hecuba in which Shakespeare’s character is found to reflect the absolutist James I as a weak decision-maker being undermined by the growing forces of piratical capital. For Schmitt modern techno-capitalism’s desire to “neutralise” political violence requires the quashing of the absolute ruler of decision. But then again, Moldbug seems absolutely blind to ever having to ask about the mercantile aspects of the birth of radical, egalitarian “creeping Calvinism” that Tawney in particular addressed so well. He is never able to realise, even in his belief that the American elite is the radical universalist intellectuals versus the merchants, that genealogically much of this is an “inhouse” Anglo political-theological problem.

    The way Moldbug sweetens the anti-democratic rhetoric of Hoppe is with recourse to Thomas Carlyle. Although now largely unread, Carlyle was one of the most widely-popular political and historical authors of the 19th century, infamous for his impassioned appeals against laissez faire abandonment of the poor to poverty and starvation (see esp. Carlyle 1915, esp. 85-6; Carlyle 1971,  71-84). Carlyle’s answer to these problems was better rulers, Great Men, whom he could find in abundance and celebrate in just about every other period of history except his own. This caused Carlyle to become increasingly bitter and apocalyptic as time wore on, leading to what Voegelinian Richard Bishirjian (1976) aptly identifies as a thoroughly “Gnostic” outlook in search of some kind of soterical God-man ruler to save the world from chaos and to bring about the millennium.

    While it is obvious that Yarvin loves Carlyle for his florid language (who doesn’t?), the real appeal seems to be his paternalism, the conviction that the true Great Man should care for those who are subservient to him. Moldbug 1 especially wants you to know that he cares, that in 2008 the Great Man looks like Steve Jobs because Steve Jobs is cool and cares too. When Moldbug (2008b, 117) argues that black Americans living in the ghetto should be forcibly re-educated in panopticon communities, this is because he cares compared with liberals who have abandoned them to crime and welfare. The obvious model here is Carlyle’s (1915, 302-33) “Negro Question” speech, in which he had insisted to his shocked 19th century liberal audience that he really did care when he argued that freed blacks in the Caribbean should be forced to labour for their masters for their own moral good rather than living on cheap pumpkins.

    One should emphasise that Moldbug’s affection for Carlyle is in strict contrast to the few other libertarians who seem to have ever heard of him, predictably regarding him as a feudal remnant, a bad guy who defended slavery, compared with noble 19th c. laissez faire liberals (e.g. Levy 2000). On the slavery question, Moldbug (2009b) can certainly admit that his beloved Carlyle wasn’t “perfect,” but perhaps only because he dismissed the “financial” side of things. Yet, just when we might be expecting Moldbug to try to fold chattel slavery into some kind of wretched anarcho-capitalist discourse that it was just another form of harmless voluntary wage labour all along (and he does very nearly get there), he instead takes a sharp turn towards romanticising feudal hierarchy and comparing it to the strict efficiency of Japanese companies. In a direct homage to Carlyle we find him castigating liberalism for allowing Haiti to become a failed state. Nonetheless, Moldbug is, without a doubt, a “proslavery” thinker: he even believes some people (especially those with a low IQ) are “natural slaves,” but this shouldn’t mean that they need to be treated cruelly. The new corporate Great Men feudalists of the 21st century will treat them very nicely, thank you very much indeed.

    It is ponderously obvious that Silicon Valley has long possessed a penchant for believing that its “thought leaders” are of equal historical importance to the Great Men of the past, as is evidenced by the great sea of pulpy awfulness on learning the business secrets of Julius Caesar and Genghis Khan that spills out of the self-help section of crummy bookstores everywhere. Most notable is former student of anthropologist René Girard and NRx-ally Peter Thiel’s gormless Zero to One (2014) that pulls no punches in comparing today’s entrepreneurs and celebrities to sacred kings. Seen in this context, Moldbug is doing very little that is original. It’s certainly easy to scoff at the notion of Divus Marcus Zuccus and so on, but, as has been emphasised, one should not underestimate for a moment the possibility of a Silicon “left fascism” with its garish attempt at appearing kind and “progressive.” It is perhaps not necessarily that our Silicon masters literally wish they were pharaoh, but, far worse, that perhaps they think that they already benevolently determine the direction of the world and should simply branch out slowly into governance in order to formalise it for its own good. Maybe like Carlyle they’ll even pay their wage-slave chattels the compliment of saying how handsome and cheerful they think they look when put to work for a pittance with no toilet breaks. Hang on–Amazon already does that.

    ***

    What Moldbug is doing with his discourse on “creeping Calvinism” is not a “secularisation thesis” in the manner of Weber, wherein one is simply looking for the roots of current social formations, however dour they might be, or a “political theology” as Schmitt and his Foucauldian leftist successors do, wherein it is often debated whether an “exit” to the political-theological machine is even possible. What Moldbug is doing is part and parcel with a certain kind of Enlightenment ideological discourse and genealogical fallacy–compare anything to a religion, you demystify and delegitimise it; if you find that something actually has religious roots this is thus even better for delegitimising it as fantasy. One only need think of John Gray’s Black Mass (2007), written around the same time Moldbug was actively blogging, in which the Christian millenarian ancestry of modern ideologies from Communism and Anarchism to the American liberal “end of history” all testify to the idea that progress is a rather worthless religious delusion.

    Perhaps this sort of thing is simply a vulgar attempt to “own the libs” by rubbing in the educated leftist sceptic’s face the idea that he is a religious lunatic. As an educated leftist religious lunatic, I am not fazed one iota by this. One could simply stop here and say no more, but what Moldbug (and Gray) are up to has in itself very particular crypto-theological roots worth discussing. Both Moldbug and Gray are deployers of a cynical materialism most clearly presaged in Thomas Hobbes’s need to cut down the competing religious claims of his dissonant age of Behemoth (Civil War) by reinforcing the image of man as little more than a dangerous animal that needs to be kept in line. Man is a wolf to man; life is nasty, brutal and short under the state of nature. For Gray the political religions have been a psychotic disaster unable to grasp Neo-Darwinian cosmic indifference. Climate change is the only real Apocalypse, likely to bring what fellow climate-cynic James Lovelock calls “global decline into a chaotic world ruled by brutal war lords on a devastated Earth” (Lovelock 2007, 154; cf. Gray 2007, 202). For Moldbug the Behemoth is instead liberal naïveté about “open borders.” He wants to tell you that America is run by a “Cathedral” of crazed post-Christian hippies who are so blinded by their ideological “blue pill” called “Millennium” (2008b, 241), that they cannot possibly understand that what they are doing is dangerous. The perfect Hobbesian Moldbuggism is perhaps found in Yarvin’s Urbit “Ask Me Anything” session on Reddit of all places:

    I think that when we use the word “human” we often really mean “angel.” So, yes: we are all subhuman. Black people included. I’m not just saying this: I think the main flaw of 20th-century political systems is that they’re designed to govern angels. If you plan for apes and allow for angels, I think you get a much better result (especially when there’s a Y chromosome in the mix). (Yarvin 2016b)

    What hard cruel realism! Surely Yarvin is the modern sceptical Hobbes speaking the truth to the deluded, just as Hobbes’ works were blamed in parliament for being a cause of God’s wrath visiting England in the form of the Great Fire of 1666! But, strangely, Moldbug has close to nothing to say about Hobbes, except perhaps a passing comment or two that in the 17th c. as a materialist he was the “leftist” compared with the divine right absolutism of his contemporaries such as Robert Filmer (Moldbug 2009c). Amusingly some Ur-Catholic reactionary thinkers have considered Moldbug little more than a godless “leftist” for his materialism and have compared him explicitly to Hobbes (Charlton 2013; cf. Nostalgebraist 2016). Several centuries earlier of course the idea of an absolute monarch on the basis of divine right would have been regarded as equally radical and heretical for its usurpation of the authority of the church and the complex myriad of local political institutions, as John Milbank (2019) has recently pointed out to the NRx and “post-liberal” crowd at Jacobite. But then again Moldbug has nothing to say about the Middle Ages at all. History starts with absolutism as though it had always been in place.  More than anything this should draw our attention back, once again, to the fact that Moldbug 1’s claim to “Jacobitism” is all shallow aesthetics to stitch together Hoppe and Silicon Valley aspirations towards governance. Nonetheless, Moldbug cannot escape from Hobbes and his legacy so easily.

    As John Milbank and Adrian Pabst (2015, 22-24) argue, in the tradition of Tawney’s secularisation thesis on British Calvinism and capitalism, with Hobbes what we see is not some new cynical variant of a reborn version of antique materialism, but the materialist rendering of the Anglo Calvinist belief in absolute human depravity and selfishness. This attitude developed from the rising emergence of a society that had uprooted and alienated agricultural labour, professionalised governance and established its grip on the New World primarily through piracy. Man is a very fallen and wicked little animal indeed to the cynical leveller and this, so Milbank and Pabst claim, continues to haunt the Anglo mindset through John Locke, Bernard Mandeville and Thomas Malthus, down to liberal selfishness in the present. That which appears sceptical and “realist” concerning human nature stems from a debased Christianity that cannot imagine the human soul to have anything good in it at all but a selfishness that might be put to use making contracts, consuming and perishing.

    This alternative aspect of “creeping Calvinist” especially seems to leak out of Nick Land’s “Dark Enlightenment” (2013 pt1) of “Hobbesian undercurrents” like there’s no tomorrow. So too his race and IQ “naturalism” and neo-reactionary deity Gnon (Nature or Nature’s God) that punishes those who go against the “nature of things.” Land’s decades-long revulsion and boredom with the human and demonology of entities like Cthelll (2011, 498-9), the primaevally wounded world-soul of the Earth passing on its misery and horror to all its children, were already more than half-way there. If anything, this earlier more bombastic, body-horror-obsessed phase of Land’s thought has always smacked to me of the worst of Christian “vale of tears” masochism, as epitomised in Luther’s hyperbole that the Earth is “a gaping anus,” the “Devil’s arse,” a “worm bag” and a “rotten chicken’s crop” because of its domination by evil merchants. Perhaps Norman O. Brown’s (1959, 222-7) old Freudian political theology was correct to read in these sentiments of Luther’s the origin of the protestant work ethic and its fixation with accumulation as an extended “anal stage”–a masochistic falling in love with the world as shit. Land’s attempts in the 90s to embrace the consciously worst aspects of neoliberal TINA to its masochistic limits simply seems to recycle this process.

    By now just about everyone with an internet connection is familiar with Land’s (2017a) eccentric views that the forces of capital are the real agent of history, some kind of “intelligent” insentient egregore. Nonetheless, as Jean-Pierre Dupuy (2014, 91-101) has argued in Economy and the Human Future there is something very similar to the dominant neoliberal view of the almighty economy today and the Calvinist belief in predestination–that only God knows who is saved and who is damned and that any and all human good and bad works are powerless before it. Land is torn between, on one hand. a kind of deterministic triumphalism sneering at any and all mass action as failed (2016), and, on the other hand, a kind of deep terror that salvation is very unlikely indeed–that the Anglosphere will collapse under immigrant invasion, that high IQ states with low birth-rates are “IQ shredders” (2017b), and that only some fantastical vision of “Neo-China” completing the system of cyberpunk idealism can make up for this. That, or simply the weak theurgy of “hyperstition”: trying to force memes into reality under the bizarre belief that what one is actually doing is bootstrapping an already-realised future that is retrojectively invading the present.

    It is very much worth noting that while Land may have developed this invasion from the future idea from watching too many sci-fi films (see: Reynolds 2009), as Catherine Pickstock (2013, 55-8) has observed this retrojective motion is an integral part of his old hero Gilles Deleuze’s cosmology in Difference and Repetition (1994). Here, so she noted, “difference” bootstraps itself by invading from the future in a blatantly theurgical gesture reliant on mediaeval millenarian Joachim of Fiore’s belief in a Third Age that completes history (Deleuze 1994, 296-7; cf. Pickstock 2013, 57). Land, so one might say, seems to have exchanged the fantasy of pure difference in favour of all too ponderous identity in the form symbols like cyborgs, post-human supermen and AI overlords. These were symbols cooked up in the atmosphere of the Post-War Boom, when people were a great deal more confident that both Paradise and imminent Judgement Day were at hand; but then, like the millennium, these have remained put off, not yet, for all the rumours otherwise. That scholar of “Accelerationism” Benjamin Noys (2014, 63) made reference to Norman Cohn’s (1962) study of millenarianism Pursuit of the Millennium when he referred to Land’s ideas as “apocalyptic acceleration” was very much on the right track.

    Land has a long history of being a hyperbolic contrarian, a sort of pantomime Satanist of theory. Elizabeth Sandifer (2017) has even considered whether the entire thing, from Land’s early left cyber-anarchism in the 1990s to his embrace of neo-reaction in the early 2010s, is one long postmodern “dirty joke.” Maybe Land became a neo-reactionary simply because he had run out of edge to lord, so to speak, and decided it was worth LARP-ing the evil capitalist Kantian white man attempting to immunise himself from the world he was pillaging, as Land’s first famous essay “Kant, Capital and the Prohibition of Incest” (Land 2011, 55-80) set out to oppose. Perhaps resentment for the cyberpunk future not arriving as quickly as he had imagined in the 90s was what led him to the “Dark Enlightenment’s” (2013 pt 1) condemnation of the welfare state as the chief means of the capacity for capital to waste itself rather than liberating technology. This self-wasting (though not on welfare) in order to cheat liberation with “antiproduction” was one of the few instances in which Deleuze and Guattari (1983, 262) took Freud’s dread “death instinct” seriously, it being Land’s (2011, 123-44 & esp. 261-88) pet cause for reinsertion into their work in the 1990s. Maybe Land dwelt so much on the “death instinct” that he ended up turning Deleuze and Guattari’s Reichian-Rousseauian rejection of Death back towards a more Freudian-Hobbesian position out of fear of human beastliness cancelling the future. All manner of things might be posed, but Land seems to have a strict policy of not explaining his shift, instead claiming that he was always an anarcho-capitalist all along and that much of his early work was simply naïve.

    ***

    Thus, one thing then seems clear about NRx. It wants to tell you that human beings are fallen and dangerous creatures and that “progressivism” naively and conveniently forgets this fact. But does it really? Let us turn things around for a moment. It is very easy to acknowledge that the old meme of conservatism and reaction being based entirely in irrational fear and ignorance is a popular one, evidenced, obviously, by recourse to the shorthand of bigotry as -phobias. However, when I have put it to common or garden progressive types that they also seem to draw a great deal of their politics from threat perception and fear (climate change, the return of fascism, theocrats, that bigoted language is implicitly violent), one is often met with the reply that yes, but these threats are real. Out come the charts, out come the think-pieces and rarely is anyone ever convinced that anything but strategic silence and bad faith is at work. From all sides the world is filled with a great tribal refrain of “But why don’t you take X seriously? It is very dangerous!” “Because they do and they are terrible people who believe other terrible things.”

    The internet is very good at endlessly reminding us of the existence of this species of communicational deadlock, but it is an aspect of human being that has existed long before the electronic “echo chamber.” For Schmitt (2005) this is the “friends vs enemies” division of the political-theological emergency, a great irrational Two based in the dualism of God and his people versus the Other. Thinkers such as Roberto Esposito (2015) have gone to great lengths to try to deconstruct this Two and its violent aspects–to the point of eccentrically claiming that to rid ourselves of it, the whole concept of “personhood” (theological and legal) would have to be done away with first. Esposito never tells us what such a “depersonalised” world in which all thought, guilt, authority and existence is deprivatised would look like. It seems almost impossible to imagine such a thing. Instead we remain stuck with incommensurate claims to the “right side of history” imagining that the apocalyptic day shall eventually come on which the Other is, at very least ideologically, completely eradicated.

    This faith lies at the core of Moldbug’s “Open Letter” (2008b) and its dreams that his reactionary future will be so well-run, hi-tech, luxuriant and happy that socially “progressive” ideas will be reduced to the position that reactionary ones held in 2008: if not a hilarious lost cause, then something virulently dangerous that must be suppressed. In our era when it is often lamented, especially by the Left, that it has become impossible to conceive of a “different world,” perhaps the goad towards imagining such things again should be that the reactionary right is frequently not quite as afflicted by the omnipresent fear of recuperation and failure. Cross this with Silicon Valley techno-optimism, and no matter how ridiculous or facetious Moldbug’s visions of VR prisons or handing over the state to airline pilots to privatise it might seem (2008b, 216-7), the fact remains that he was naïve enough to stake a claim on the future when hardly anyone else would dare do such things. That should be concerning (and perhaps a little shameful).

    But how did Moldbug get there? Social habitus of course plays a very important part in the formation of the political Two in our age. This is especially obvious regarding NRx, which seems mostly peopled by college-educated middle-class white guys reacting with boredom towards the largely left liberal cultural pod in which they have been raised and educated. Reaction promises a totally different series of moral imperatives and threat-perceptions, an exciting virgin land untouched by hardly a soul smarter than a rock since the days of Real Existing Fascism. The mixture of excitement and resentment at the fact that a whole ideological continent had long been reduced to Neo-Nazis in the trailer park was palpable in Moldbug writing a decade before the “alt-right.” At the opening of his early declaration of a search for a new politics, entitled “A Formalist Manifesto,” Moldbug says:

    My beef with progressivism is that for at least the last 100 years, the vast majority of writers and thinkers and smart people in general have been progressives. Therefore, any intellectual in 2007, which unless there has been some kind of Internet space warp and my words are being carried live on Fox News, is anyone reading this, is basically marinated in progressive ideology. (Moldbug 2007c)

    Even though a complex reactionary news-ecosystem now exists, there still remains a profound need for reaction to distance itself from the image of the conservative as the angry uncle shouting at Fox. As a friend once put it–you piss off anarchists by telling them to move to Somalia, you piss off Marxists by telling them to move to North Korea, you piss off Neo-Reactionaries by telling them to move to Alabama.

    Nonetheless, a particularly curious side-effect of this acting out against “the libs” is the fact that Moldbug, like a great many reactionaries today lurching between fantasies of some Sorosian League of Doom and “clownworld,” can never make his mind up whether his “Brahmin” enemies are evil geniuses trying to unite “high and low against the middle” by teaming up with “Dalit” POCs to replace white America (2008a), or zombified morons unable to perceive that: “History is not over. Oh, no. We are still living it. Perhaps we are in the positions of the French of 1780 or the Russians of 1914, who had no idea that the worlds they lived in could degenerate so rapidly into misery and terror” (2008b, 264-5). Thus, it will be particularly interesting to see which threats Yarvin will acknowledge in the rest of the “Clear Pill” as the Real upon which to found his touted new alternative to Progressivism, Constitutionalism and Fascism. Will he concede things to each of these ideologies? Can we imagine a Yarvin who believes in catastrophic climate change, “the great replacement” conspiracy and civic nationalism all at once? That one would not be hard at all to imagine, nor a Yarvin of slavery with UBI, nor a Yarvin that simply repeated everything from between Moldbugs 1-3 all at once. However, it is highly likely that the “new” alternative will simply be another modification on the same basic ingredients of authoritarian capitalism, and it is on this matter that we should draw this essay to a close.

    Perhaps the soberest approach to Yarvin/Moldbug would be to contextualise him as but one example on a growing list of specimens of the now obvious American “libertarian-to-alt-right pipeline,” in which one might enrol the Tea Party and a fair slab of the recent US “alt-right” (especially the Hoppe enthusiasts), but also things much older. Perhaps we can find rumours of it first in Thomas Hobbes’s belief that if the monarch of Leviathan is installed to keep the religious factions down then supply and demand will simply make everything work out: “The Value of all things contracted for, is measured by the Appetite of the Contractors: and therefore the just value is that which they be contracted to give” (1651, 208). A number of thinkers including George Dyson (1997, 159) and Philip Ball (2004, 34 & 221) have taken note of this line in Hobbes and consider it possibly the first example of economics represented as an autopoetic system. But, of course, one can only “let the market system work” under the authoritarian conditions that neutralise selfish, violent human brutes into homines oeconomici.

    This machine is the “lizardbrain” of liberalism, a reactive Calvinist mess terrified of what men might do if the market were not there to tame them. The libertarian inversion of this, to find the market eternal and the state a parasite, is a marvellous delusion indeed, and one of very recent invention that is belied by the fact that the movement so easily flirts with authoritarianism and even outright Fascism when it gets frightened. The Austrian Economics dons Ludwig Mises and F.A. Hayek were more than happy to shill for both Mussolini’s promise of a “free market stage” and Augusto Pinochet’s brutishness under the belief that at very least a temporary dictatorship to keep out the communists was not an entirely bad idea (Robin 2013). Nonetheless, of course the libertarian refrain always remains that Fascism is a leftist qua collectivist movement. No one wants to be left holding that hot potato any more than the mainstream American libertarian scene is willing to acknowledge the problem that the work of Hoppe keeps on churning out self-titled “fascists” dreaming of playing Pinochet and “physically removing” people.

    For instance, in early 2017 there was a great internal furore among American libertarians over the Hoppe Caucus’s invitation of Richard Spencer to the 2017 International Students For Liberty Conference. This ended in a punch up and several of the website Liberty Conservative’s writers being “doxxed” by self-titled “Antifa libertarians” for covering the event (Lucente 2017). In October 2017 in a speech titled “Libertarianism, the Alt-Right and AntiFa” Hoppe responded by simultaneously expressing his disappointment in Spencer’s embrace of “white nationalist socialism” and commending the “alt-right”–in spite of its ideological disorganisation–for its ethnocentrism, belief in natural hierarchy, refusal to be cowed by Antifa, and distrust of academia. As far as Hoppe was concerned, much of the “alt-right” seemed part and parcel with the tradition of American “paleoconservatives” such as Pat Buchanan and thinkers like Moldbug, links with whom he admits have earned him “several honourable mentions” from the SPLC over the years. Moreover, in early 2018, following concerns by the Mises Institute over the white nationalism of an upcoming book titled White, Right and Libertarian, for which Hoppe had agreed to write a foreword, Hoppe retracted the foreword and distanced himself from the author (Rachels 2018).

    What can we make of all this? Should we concentrate on the phylum of reaction that is clearly fascism qua hypertrophied authoritarian capitalism and desire to get a better look at its subspecies, we find ourselves caught in a strange triangle of a sort. On one side we have NRx as a Utopian patchwork of shining privatised Neo-Singapores, as Moldbug 1 and Land would seem to desire. On another side by the sort of shiny Google “left fascism” of “woke capital” Land and his minions would obviously abhor. On a third we have good old fashioned, blood-soaked Pinochetian brutalism, Leviathan with its sword raised. In this triangle no single side can be folded into another–each continues to haunt the others. It would be too easy to turn them into a spectrum running Left Fascist-M1-Pinochet in increasingly open brutality, but this would of course obfuscate the “niceness” that the information age society of cybernetic control likes to affect through technological means of repression in order to appear to soften the blow (including futuristic fantasies of VR prisons).

    In this we should not pass over the fact, once again, of the plurality of Moldbugs. Moldbug 2 is far closer to Pinochet, as too would Moldbug 3 very likely be. The Landian accelerationist “patchwork” vision of things doesn’t stand a chance in hell of existing because there’s nothing to support its fantasies of secessionism, not even in some tiny imagined gap between the US Empire’s decline and some Neo-Chinese Empire rising. Nonetheless, “left fascism” will certainly have a go at eating the world given half a chance, even if it must beg the existing liberal Leviathan to turn a blind eye, for Leviathan increasingly cannot do without the informatic monopolies of Google and friends to maintain governance. So too, one can never underestimate the possibility that at some point the “libertarian-to-alt-right pipeline” will bring forth something truly nasty, blunt and simple in the manner of a Pinochet in America and that it is only likely that it will lean on a certain sort of cold, cruel Calvinist Christianity in order to support itself.

    It is against both of these forces that one would do well to look back over the counter history of “creeping Calvinism” and “Quaker thuggery,” for, in America at least, Christianity still retains the power to build images of alternative worlds, some hellish, some paradisiacal. That the American Left in the second half of the 20th century was so keenly and myopically willing to abandon Christianity as something primitive and irredeemable, fit only for the bigots, is perhaps one of the most politically foolish decisions ever made. Back in the 1960s epochal thinkers like Norman Brown (1959) and Theodor Roszak (1973) understood well that they were the inheritors of the tradition of radical non-conformists like William Blake. This was soon forgotten in efforts to be as far away as possible from anything even vaguely mystical for fear of its commercial recuperation, lifestylism and naïveté.

    OrbGang meme
    Figure 1. OrbGang meme
    OrbGang meme
    Figure 2. OrbGang meme

    But strangely, this old spectre recently re-appeared again in the online “Orbgang” meme-factory of Democratic presidential candidate Marianne Williamson that managed to unite all sorts of people across political, racial, age, gender and religious spectra (Figure 1, Figure 2). More than any public figure in recent memory Williamson with her message of politics-as-love and Course in Miracles embodies a bizarre distillation of the weirdest aspects of non-conformist Christianity that could only still be cooked up in America. It’s very easy, of course, to put down Williamson as a New Age hack and a joke (though the memes about her are a great deal of fun and we do live in a meme-war economy in these times). But one rarely finds a New Age hack interested in politics, let alone one with practical proposals on matters such as reparations and climate change to the left of just about all of her competitors. Williamson was always very unlikely to get anywhere, and the American Left were particularly cruel to her. But one does wonder whether something very powerful could be done against our age’s overwhelming atmosphere of pessimism, fear, jealousy and bad faith if the powers of both Christian and post-Christian love, harmony and mercy could be harnessed once again for political purposes.

    _____

    Jonathan Ratcliffe was educated by mad Guénonians, holds a doctorate in Mongolian Studies from the Australian National University, and writes the occasional piece on political theology. He blogs at Mechanical Owl.

    Back to the essay

    _____

    Notes

    [1] Back in mid-2017 the main page for the Urbit website contained the very Moldbuggian libertarian motto that: “If Bitcoin is money and Ethereum is law, Urbit is land.” This seems to have been removed as part of an overall renovation of the page between then and now–likely following Yarvin’s departure. One should also note Moldbug’s (2010a) old idea of Feudle, a feudal search engine where the trustworthiness of information was controlled by tiers of experts.

    [2] Also note that in 2015 Yarvin’s invitation to another conference, Strange Loop, was cancelled. This drew a fair amount of momentary media attention. See Auerbach (2015) in Slate, and, for comparison, Bokhari (2015) in Breitbart on the issue.

    [3] Perhaps the most profound difference in vocabulary between Moldbug and Carl Schmitt is that while both of them take the sovereign absolute ruler to be the superior form of government, Schmitt of course regards this as “the political” historically threatened by attempts to neutralise it using religion, technology, metaphysics. In comparison Moldbug (2008b esp. 55, 2010b) is avidly against “politics,” which is what happens once more than a few people are involved in the decision-making process. Moldbug even as a quasi-Platonic scheme of degeneration of a sort. Imperium in imperio (absolute sovereignty of the ruler) passes from the decisionism of a monarch “…to oligarchy, oligarchy to aristocracy, aristocracy to democracy, democracy to mere anarchy” (2010b). Schmitt fears a world without conflict; Moldbug fears chaos.

    _____

    Works Cited

     

  • Nitzan Lebovic — Biopolitical Times: The Plague and the Plea

    Nitzan Lebovic — Biopolitical Times: The Plague and the Plea

    This essay is a part of the COVID-19 dossier, edited by the b2o editorial staff. 

    by Nitzan Lebovic

    Related article: Christian Haines — A Lyric Intensity of Thought: On the Potentiality and Limits of Giorgio Agamben’s “Homo Sacer” Project

    “Nous savions alors que notre séparation était destinée à durer et que
    nous devions essayer de nous arranger avec le temps.” (Camus, Le Peste)

     

    Addressing coronavirus disease 2019 is a struggle against time, perhaps the first warning of a future world, or the last our species is going to get before losing to global warming. It is a lesson that is meant to teach us the importance of time, how we’re running out of it.

    The spread of the virus and the global response have illustrated how growth and reduction, acceleration and slowing down, belong to the post-postmodern world. From the jet-speed global spread of the virus, with its exponential expansion, to the governmental and local top-down response—a coordinated effort to slow it down, defer its full effects, and stop it—both problem and solution seemed to move to the rhythm of industrialization and globalization. The attempts to contain this catastrophe resonate with biopolitical control: individual isolation, social separation, governmental control, police and medical surveillance. In short, we are living in a new age of catastrophes. Unlike catastrophic world wars caused by late industrialization and mass mobilization, now we experience the catastrophe brought by profit-based consumption and the destruction of our environment and our world, an existential threat imperiling the very idea of human time.

    A recent analysis by Tomas Pueyo gave a name to the desperate need for more time: by comparing different instances of the spread of the coronavirus and the effectiveness of the response, Pueyo showed that the single most important factor is the time between what he calls “the Hammer” of forceful suppression of the spread and the creation of an effective vaccine. He calls this interim period “the dance of R” and concludes: “What,” he asks, “is the one thing that matters now?” His answer: “Time.

    Pueyo’s analysis emphasizes time because it looks, first and foremost, at life. Ironically, the philosopher of “bare life” (Zoë), Giorgio Agamben, disagrees with such estimates. A panel of experts headed by Agamben recently scrutinized the national emergencies (in Agambenian terms, the “states of exception”) declared by many governments in order to contain the spread of COVID-19. (For a better translation of Agamben’s “clarifications” see  here) In his remarks on the situation, published on February 26, Agamben chose to declare quite dogmatically that any state of emergency, even with lives at stake, was a violation of individual autonomy and the fundamental principles of civil society. After comparing COVID-19 to the flu, he argued that Italians were “faced with the frenetic, irrational, and entirely unfounded emergency measures adopted against an alleged epidemic of coronavirus” and that the “disproportionate response” grew out of “the tendency to use a state of exception as a normal paradigm for government” as well as a “general state of fear” encouraged by Western governments for populist and capitalist reasons. Agamben’s remarks were followed on March 17 by “Clarifications” that made explicit his assumption that “our society no longer believes in anything but naked life.”

    These admonitions are not unfounded; populist regimes, from Orbán to Netanyahu and Modi, have already taken to the emergency declarations in order to tighten the screws of control and anti-democratic measures. Yet, Agamben’s two statements also bring to light an unfortunate structural element that is embedded in his theory: a focus on bare life misses the temporality of life. After all, as Schmitt and Agamben have acknowledged, our understanding of bare life assumes the suspension in toto of democratic constitutions (Homo Sacer, 15. Emphasis in the original). Agamben’s recent attack on nuanced analyses such as Pueyo’s “dance of R” proves that his resistance to the idea of sovereignty has blotted out all consideration for life and politics, incidentally identifying an inherent blind spot within his theory. I mean the absence of temporality, or the lack of interest in living time as such. Without a temporal understanding of the biopolitical apparatus, we cannot estimate the dynamics of management and enforcement. We cannot separate a Merkel from a Modi. More specifically, without a temporal analysis of our reality, we have no way to estimate either the spread or the response of the virus. Furthermore, ignoring the temporal dimension causes Agamben to miss a crucial element for contemporary biopolitical critique: the fact that as we run out of time in our search for a better politea we tend to lose sight of our duty as a species to bring our temporal existence—as individuals and as a political community—in line with the planet, as Dipesh Chakrabarty has shown (in History & Theory and Critical Inquiry).

    Let me explain this by the use of a political and a historical case. The history of plagues is convincingly theorized, in a biopolitical vein, by the political philosopher Adi Ophir—an English version of its first half is expected next year from Fordham University Press. Ophir believes that disasters have gradually been secularized and biopoliticized. While the first half of the book engages with biblical disasters, the second half traces the modern biopolitical mechanisms accompanying crises such as bubonic plagues. Ophir goes back to Daniel Defoe’s Due Preparations for the Plague, as Well for Soul as Body (1722) and A Journal of the Plague Year (1722), and Jean-Pierre Papon’s De la peste, ou Époques mémorables de ce fléau et les moyens de s’en préserver (The plague, or Memorable times of this pestilence and the means to prevent it, 1799). The texts are well known to historians of science and intellectual historians, who have used them to show a growing pressure to regulate the means of prevention. What is new in Ophir’s analysis is the attention he gives to the biopolitical means as a form of secularization. For him, plagues are a typical case of the secularization of divine authority, something quite different from the liberal presentation of the evolution of the state as a necessary, positive development. (This is in line with Walter Benjamin’s thinking about “divine violence.”) From this perspective, Defoe and Papon demonstrate that political authorities must rely on emergency decrees and a swift enforcement of isolation to manage and contain the spread of highly infectious diseases. Yet during the eighteenth century any effort of that kind triggered the flight of elites from infected areas, with the concomitant surrender of position and authority to the middle class, a power reclaimed once the danger passed. Ophir, following Michel Foucault’s analysis in Security, Territory, Population and Agamben’s in Homo Sacer and State of Exception, presents the typical management of a national population in troubled times as a coupling of governmental carelessness and abuse of power, usually in the service of the economic interests of the elites and the divine legitimacy of the ruler. As the evolution of such state institutions shows, it is often difficult to separate incompetence from abuse and procedural authority from divine one; both grew out of the abandonment and consolidation of power by emergency decrees. How does it help us understand the politics of the plague better? Looking at such governmental mechanisms from a nonliberal, nonprogressive point of view, one cannot help but note the practical importance of intervening to slow the spread of a dangerous virus by implementing “systematic territorialization.” Seclusion, closure, isolation, and surveillance in times of troubles enabled the court—operating from a safe distance—to save lives. From a different angle, the operative question asked by governments—these troubled Defoe and Papon in the eighteenth century—related to “proper abandonment.” “From the perspective of the state, it is clear,” writes Ophir, echoing those early plague chroniclers, “abandonment is a form of containment, and the seclusion of infected areas is . . . temporary and partial, an urgent need of the hour and aimed at saving the state as a whole.” The measures, in simple words, may help saving lives, but the we must be able to block emergency measures and divine-like authority from becoming the rule, once the elite decides it’s time to come back home.

    Back to the present, back to Agamben and the problem of leaving out temporality. If the most important question in the present moment is that of gaining time (vis-à-vis both earthly plagues and the environmental apocalypse), then a structural analysis of emergencies cannot suffice. A dogmatic insistence on bare life misses the need to take emergency situations seriously; at certain moment, the Hammer needs to fall, for the benefit of the public. Agamben misses, I believe, the real political point of this situation, which is the critique of proper abandonment” and the temporary use of biopolitical measures. Simply put, our struggle should not be about an affirmation or a negation of the state of emergency as such, but an attempt to realize when such decrees diverge from the temporality of life, rejecting the temporal democratic principles that follow the logic of the public in toto (demos and ochlos, rather than a separation between the two). This need not be about sovereign territorialization, economic interest, or bare life. Yes, such analysis requires a history and an understanding of procedural processes, but where would we be if not for Foucault’s emphasis on the gradual shaping of the biopolitical apparatus? Without time, we are left with nothing but bare life.

    Nitzan Lebovic is an associate professor of history and the Apter Chair of Holocaust Studies and Ethical Values at Lehigh University. He is the author of The Philosophy of Life and Death: Ludwig Klages and the Rise of a Nazi Biopolitics (2013) and Zionism and Melancholy: The Short Life of Israel Zarchi (2019) and the coeditor of The Politics of Nihilism (2014) and Catastrophe: A History and Theory of an Operative Concept (2014) as well as the editor of special issues of Rethinking History (Nihilism), Zmanim: Tel-Aviv University Journal of History (Religion and Power), The New German Critique (Political Theology), Comparative Literature and Culture (Complicity and Dissent), and Political Theology (Prophetic Politics).

  • Julia DeCook — How Deep Does the Rabbit Hole Go? The “Wonderland” of r/TheRedPill and Its Ties to White Supremacy

    Julia DeCook — How Deep Does the Rabbit Hole Go? The “Wonderland” of r/TheRedPill and Its Ties to White Supremacy

    Julia DeCook

    This essay has been peer-reviewed by “The New Extremism” special issue editors (Adrienne Massanari and David Golumbia), and the b2o: An Online Journal editorial board.

    You take the blue pill, the story ends. You wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill, you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.

    —Morpheus, The Matrix (Wachowski and Wachowski 1999)

    In the 1999 film The Matrix, Morpheus presents the protagonist, Neo, with the option of taking one of two pills: taking the blue pill would close off Neo’s burgeoning consciousness of the constructed nature of his life in the Matrix; taking the red pill would allow Neo to remain in Wonderland, meaning he would remain conscious of the real world around him. In The Matrix, human beings who have not taken the red pill exist in a type of virtual reality. Thus, to “take the red pill” means to be awakened—to become conscious—to see the world for what it truly is.

    The phrase entered popular vernacular in ways that the transgender Wachowski siblings undoubtedly never intended. In the context of The Matrix, taking the Red Pill means awakening to the oppressive mechanisms of control. But the phrase has been taken up by the far right to mean waking up to the oppressive mechanisms of feminism, progressive politics, and multiculturalism (Read 2019). Notably, on the popular content aggregator and forum website Reddit, the prominent men’s rights/pick up artist subreddit r/TheRedPill takes its name from this famous scene. However, instead of giving the user insight to see the world as one where robots have enslaved humanity, the Reddit “red pill” awakens men to the realization that they have been enslaved by women and feminism (Baker  2017; Ging 2019; Van Valkenburgh 2018).

    This rhetoric may feel familiar to those who have been following the rhetoric of the alt right, who often point to the need to “wake people up” to a constructed reality where white people— particularly white men—have been oppressed by feminism and multiculturalism. Discussions surrounding the Manosphere, (a loosely connected online network of men’s rights activists, pick up artists, Incels [so-called Involuntary Celibates], and other male-focused social movements) in both popular media as well as academic scholarship point to the ways the Manosphere functions as a gateway ideology for the alt right (Futrelle 2017b). Often, the broad connection that links these two groups together is misogyny and anti-feminist sentiments that they use as a way to ground their group identity and the political goals of the various factions within them. These affective dimensions that appeal to the frustration and anger of men who flock to these groups then create a new cultural practice (Ahmed, 2004). Although what these men pride themselves is their ability to think logically about the “reality of the sexual marketplace,” what we see emerging is a stronger appeal to emotion that then shapes their relationship with the group itself, and is performed through misogyny.

    The ways misogyny is performed on r/TheRedPill is under the guise of providing a “positive identity for men” by highlighting mechanisms by which Manosphere discourse and ideology can set up a foundation for further radicalization into more extremist thought. The ways the group strategizes in facilitating this radicalization as well as how it indoctrinates its members warrants further exploration, particularly to understand how such processes may occur. Particularly, the ways that the Manosphere’s ideology may set up a foundation for further indoctrination is important to highlight the radicalization process, since the Manosphere’s “pill” may be easier to swallow at first than outright white supremacy (Futrelle 2017b). Since the Manosphere and its many groups lure members into their communities by playing on their frustrations regarding sexual and romantic relationships, the ways that this radicalization occurs may be subtle at first but become more pronounced as time goes on.

    r/TheRedPill is both a prominent community in the Manosphere as well as a sizable Reddit community on its own. With over 400,000 members scattered across a variety of affiliated subreddits (i.e., r/RedPillWomen and r/RedPillParenting), the subreddit is not just a notable case study for its sheer size and popularity within the Manosphere but also for the ways the community has expanded its boundaries to appeal to a larger group of people—including women. By positioning itself as a social movement, the radicalization happening within the Manosphere first attracts men by appealing to their sexual or romantic frustrations, and then promises to give them the tools to alleviate this frustration and become “better men” for it. Unlike MGTOW (Men Going Their Own Way), whose members voluntarily abstain from romantic or sexual relationships to reclaim their “power” (Futrelle 2017a), and unlike Men’s Rights Activists (MRAs), who do not focus on pursuing sexual and romantic relationships, r/TheRedPill packages itself as a group that helps men successfully engage in sexual or romantic relationships with the added benefit of reclaiming one’s manhood.

    To “Red Pillers” (what r/TheRedPill members call themselves and are referred to as outside of the community), feminism and society in general promote “sexual strategies” that favor women, thus giving women power in relationships, whereas The Red Pill community teaches men sexual strategies to take back the power in sexual or romantic relationships. Focusing on only heterosexual relationships, to “Red Pill” in this context means to invoke heteronormative gender roles that benefit the man in the relationship and subjugate the woman, a dynamic achieved by becoming what they call an “Alpha Male.” On the surface, r/TheRedPill is mostly aligned with the Pick-Up Artist (PUA) community, which teaches men strategies to seduce women, but cultivates a more intense focus on men’s rights activism.

    Importantly, men who adhere to the teachings promulgated by r/TheRedPill view it as much more than sexual strategy—they view it as an identity, a community, and an ideology in which they base their realities upon. Recently, and particularly after the 2016 election of Donald Trump as President of the United States, studies have emerged in both academia and within journalistic sources that attempt to lump together MRAs with Red Pillers and Incels as similar groups that belong in the Manosphere (Ging 2019). However, it is critical to understand that they are different and distinct from one another within the larger Manosphere ecosystem, particularly in terms of how they define themselves. Yet the common thread running through these communities that connects them to the larger alt right movement is misogyny. Misogyny, and the rejection of feminism, which many men in these groups view as a “cancer” inflicted upon “Western civilization,” are the glue that keep these groups within the same extremist networks.

    “How Women Destroy Western Civilization”

    The discourse in the forum focusing on the ways “Western civilization is doomed,” especially in so far as feminism and/or women can be blamed for it, is perhaps one of the clearest indications of the links between the Manosphere and the alt right. It is this misogyny that helps bind together these affective networks of rage (Ahmed, 2004), which drives the movements to attempt to subvert and replace a perceived dominant culture they feel is oppressive to [white] men. Although there are many Red Pillers who explicitly reject the association of the group with white supremacy, for there are indeed non-white Red Pillers, the rhetoric that both movements espouse is constructed based on three central claims: 1. That Western Civilization has been ruined by feminism; 2. That men are oppressed, and only by fixing this “imbalance” will Western Civilization be saved; and 3. That women who reject feminism and instead embrace “traditional” roles as wives and mothers, subservient to their husbands, are happier. Accordingly, men in the r/TheRedPill community do not necessarily reject women who are not virgins (unlike Incels, who insist on the virginity of women that they aspire to be with), but do believe that women are morally, intellectually, and physically inferior to men, thus providing the basis of the argument for why feminism has violated the “natural order” of things by giving women power (Manne 2017).

    The violation of a “natural order” based in biological determinism in regard to race and sex is a core argument used in far-right circles, including the Manosphere, to justify their beliefs. And although they share many similarities in regard to the superiority of men over women, grouping the Manosphere and the alt right under the same umbrella is insufficient to understand the crux of their ideologies and the arguments they use to support them. The Manosphere often invokes a nostalgic remembrance of a past before feminism “tainted” women, just as white supremacist rhetoric in other parts of the alt-right also invokes this kind of nostalgic remembrance of a past that was white and patriarchal. However, in terms of how directly connected the Manosphere is to white supremacy, one piece of “literature” that r/TheRedPill uses to support their ideological beliefs about women and “hypergamy” comes directly from The Occidental Quarterly, a known white nationalist/white supremacist academic journal funded by the Charles Martel society (Southern Poverty Law Center n.d.). The Occidental Quarterly helps to blast open a gateway from r/TheRedPill to white supremacy and/or white nationalism. What r/TheRedPill and its affiliated subreddits and websites has demonstrated through publications like these is that the rabbit hole goes deeper than sexual strategy.

    Hypergamy, in particular, is a concept that highlights the ways the misogynistic discourse of the Manosphere and the white supremacist movement (in particular, the alt right) are connected. Devlin, the author of the piece, begins an article by stating that “white birthrates worldwide have suffered a catastrophic decline in recent decades,” (see figure 1), and goes on to explain why hypergamy is the reason why. Specifically, hypergamy is defined as a sexual and romantic drive to be with the “Alpha Male,” regardless of current relationship status. In other words, women will instinctively seek out the most attractive, successful, or powerful man in a group to have sexual or romantic relations with, and this “hypergamy” drives women to only “mate at the top.” Devlin goes on to say that the sexual revolution of the 1960s shifted culture to be a “female sexual utopia,” and that this brought upon a new cultural norm where women had sexual rights, leading to the downfall of “white birthrates” and “Western civilization.” In sum, the article states that it is not only hypergamy that is responsible for this downfall, but that women having sexual and reproductive freedom is the cause of all of the modern day white man’s woes—sexually, romantically, economically, and culturally. Pointing to all of these collapses of a patriarchal, white, masculine world as the reason for the discontent of “Western civilization”, the concept of hypergamy is easily transportable across these extremist groups and easily embraced.

    The first paragraphs of Sexual Utopia in Power
    Figure 1. The first paragraphs of Sexual Utopia in Power

    The reclamation of power is the fundamental motivation that drives these communities. This article, as well as many of the other readings that serve as the foundation of r/TheRedPill and Manosphere thought, are about reclaiming masculinity, reclaiming power, and reclaiming truth and reality in general. They not only give the men who flock to these communities an answer; they also completely disassemble the world the person knew before (thus the phrase “being Red Pilled”). The postmodern era is most notably significant for the collapse of the “grand narratives” that held societies together, and in particular in Western contexts these grand narratives were based in hegemonic masculinity, patriarchy, Christian religion, and whiteness. The ideologies of r/TheRedPill and the Manosphere promise a return to this grand narrative to ground one’s reality. This collapsing—and ultimate rebuilding—of a grand narrative and purpose that privileges male power over all else, then, helps develop a mind to accept more extremist thoughts and to act on them. Not unlike the tactics used by cults, who often exploit people who are seeking meaning, The Manosphere and the alt right provide meaning in the form of misogyny and white supremacy, creating an “affective fabric” that binds them together (Kuntsman, 2012).

    It is worth mentioning that the material consequences of the extremist ideologies of the Manosphere have often resulted in mass violence. Elliott Rodger, the Isla Vista shooter, was a member of PUA communities online (McGuire 2014) and is often venerated in communities like r/Incels, where they refer to him as “Saint Elliott.” James Jackson stabbed an elderly black man to death in New York with a sword and was also a member of MGTOW. Indeed, MGTOW is the more extreme faction of the Manosphere and is often not concerned with the advancement of men’s rights. It thus lends itself easily to other extremist beliefs.

    Along with r/Incels, MGTOW may be the most severe and extreme of all of the groups of the Manosphere. This does not, however, mean that r/TheRedPill and other Manosphere groups are not extreme or severe in their misogyny, but rather that their packaging of their misogynistic beliefs may be easier to swallow at first and lead men who flock to their groups down the rabbit hole even farther. By positioning themselves as advocating for the interests of men, and as groups that foster “positive identities” for them, they are able to recruit members who feel as though they are lost and without community—providing them with a sense of belonging and a group identity to subscribe to gives these groups their long-term sustainability (Hogg & Williams 2000). The acknowledgement of the ideologies of the Manosphere and its connections to the alt right has been established; however, understanding of how each group within the Manosphere recruits and indoctrinates its members will lead to further insight as to how they ensure their sustained existence in and outside of this ideological web.

    Although there are distinctive differences among the groups in the Manosphere in terms of the levels of violence they advocate for, and what their activism and membership focus on, the common underlying thread among them is rage toward modern society and women. These differences, however, are important to understand in order to identify what draws men (and even women) to these groups. In particular, it is crucial to comprehend these differences to better strategize around the prevention of further radicalization. Thus, the underlying base ideology that fuels these movements, connects them to the alt right, and results in mass violence is one that warrants further investigation, particularly regarding the role of platforms in connecting them all together through algorithmically generated recommendations and the ease of navigating the digital communities that make them home (Massanari 2015; Noble 2018).

    Rather than aimlessly wandering the digital wilderness searching for meaning, meaning is being given to them through these Manosphere groups who exploit the frustrations of men who desire romantic and sexual relationships. But these frustrations are manifestations of unfulfilled desires, and these communities are where these desires and frustrations are validated and strengthened. And as we have seen too often with the rise of hate crimes and mass murders, these violent desires result in violent ends.

    _____

    Julia R. DeCook is an Assistant Professor in the School of Communication at Loyola University Chicago. She is currently working on publishing her dissertation which examined how various extremist groups responded to censorship and bans to understand how digital infrastructure sustains these movements. She is also a fellow with the newly formed Institute for Research on Male Supremacism.

    Back to the essay

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    Works Cited

  • Alexander Reid Ross — Fooling the Nation: Extremism and the Pro-Russia Disinformation Ecosystem

    Alexander Reid Ross — Fooling the Nation: Extremism and the Pro-Russia Disinformation Ecosystem

    Alexander Reid Ross

    This essay has been peer-reviewed by “The New Extremism” special issue editors (Adrienne Massanari and David Golumbia), and the b2o: An Online Journal editorial board.

    Introduction

    This study produces a theoretical basis for understanding the political organization behind contemporary illiberal disinformation. I use the word “illiberal” because disinformation tends to attack liberal positions from both the left and the right, often deploying conspiracy theories and populist tropes. While I do not dispute the fact that liberal-oriented disinformation exists, the majority of disinformation is illiberal and pro-Russian in an “information war” waged against the post-war liberal order.[1]

    Starbird, Arif, and Wilson (2018) found a “strategy of targeting, infiltrating, and shaping online activism” among information operations connected to Russia, while Hjorth and Adler-Nissen (2019) found conservatives up to 39% more likely to be exposed to disinformation.[2] It becomes important, then, to understand how disinformation flows influence popular discourse, and conservative discourse in particular, through the radicalization of social movements and the accentuation of certain aspects of them. In this study, I analyze the horizontal and vertical structure of disinformation networks, their ideological character, and their spatial scales.

    First, I consider the form of illiberal ideology within disinformation within the historical patterns and generic definition of fascism, assessing its syncretism in light of a brand of fascist ideology associated with the Russian fascist Alexander Dugin. Second, I assesses the content of “junk news” dissemination via the “vertical” news syndicates of Russian media and the “horizontal” networks of news sites, blogs, and influence groups that help to spread disinformation through a process that I characterize as “refraction.”[3]

    I call this process “refraction,” because it is similar to the way light entering a prism is bent into different colors. It is still the same conceptualization, but different components of it attune toward particular representations. By circulating the same “master narratives” of national decline and rebirth through an ostensibly diverse panoply of sources identified with differing and often combative ideologies—such as libertarian, far left, far right, and environmentalist—disinformation campaigns can gain the appearance of authenticity and media saturation.[4] As I show, these “master narratives” that are “refracted” into different angles or approaches often bear a consistent alignment with “multipolar” goals. This strategic approach involves both the production of “junk news” across a diverse tableau of websites, which tend to be either political or non-political, and its dissemination, far more often by autonomous actors than by automated bots.[5] I do not investigate the psychology of willing actors disseminating “junk news,” because that would require an entire study of its own, involving different methods and data sources.

    Thirdly, to add a practical component to my study, I analyze the function of these media networks in light of Russia’s active measures during the 2016 presidential elections. I find that disinformation has been aided and facilitated through infiltration within and exploitation of broader left-wing narratives casting opposition to Russia-supported disinformation as “McCarthyism.” In this way, I show that disinformation can succeed when given cover by sectors of the media already deemed credible by a significant audience, and that even when utilized by the left, most often serves the interests of the far right.

    I. Fascism and Geopolitics

    In this section, I compare the major ideological positions and strategic devices of contemporary disinformation networks to those of the far-right and fascist networks. I describe fascist syncretism in relation to arguably the most influential fascist in the world, Alexander Dugin. I further describe the key geopolitical aspects of Dugin’s ideology as multipolarism, Traditionalism, and Eurasianism, and explore the strategic importance of “entryism,” or infiltration, to his movement. This ideological analysis helps to illustrate the material influences and tendencies of specific disinformation disseminators, while also forming a backdrop for broader information campaigns.

    Fascism, Right and Left

    Understanding the flows of disinformation across scales in their proper political context requires a precise understanding of the political ideologies involved, including fascism, the populist radical right, and the hard left. Close inspection of fascist ideology reveals a tacit tendency to fuse opposing positions in order to produce a syncretic, quasi-populist combination of elitism and popular mobilization. We need to understand fascism before elaborating the similarities and differences of the populist radical right and the “hard left,” which tend to engage in collaborative efforts to defeat liberalism at the polls or in the streets. I first take a genealogical approach, then a typological approach toward recognizing fascism’s relationship to other movements and ideologies in order to get at a “generic definition” of fascism.

    Fascism must be understood as both an ideology with both revolutionary and reactionary features. The roots of fascism lie in reactionary juridical aspirations to total counter-revolution, which in the late 19th century contributed to a populist movement that appealed to workers, shopkeepers, and the upper-middle class in opposition to republicanism.[6] As the crisis of liberalism manifested in its failure to fulfill its own egalitarian promise, fascists exploited the violent rupture caused by revolutionary socialist opposition. Following the Bolshevik seizure of power in 1917 and the Italian victory in World War I, fascism emerged as a movement of vanguard aesthetes, intellectuals, and war veterans who called for the obliteration of liberal bureaucracies in favor of a futuristic system based on classical archetypes reproduced by the New Man’s march, unfettered by compromise, into a world of national will. Fascists suffused the reactionary tradition inherited by proto-fascists like the antisemitic trade union, Les Jaunes, with modern elements of collectivism and ultra-nationalism joined with elitism.[7] In opposition to undeserving liberal elites who created the conditions for chaos by offering lip service to equality, they promised their own version of a future where “natural” elites could gain support from a purportedly anti-capitalist system.[8]

    While fascists exploit revolutionary anti-capitalist responses to the failure of liberalism, they also benefit from a history of antisemitism and nationalism within the social movements of the 19th and early 20th Century.[9] I use the term “hard left” to connote such groups identified as left wing who nevertheless perceive the world through the inflexible lens of authoritarianism and conspiracy theories.[10] The “hard left” often abandons precise analyses of material conditions in favor of attacking individuals and groups like the Rothschilds, George Soros, the Bilderberg Group, or an esoteric “Zionist cabal” as the prime movers of world-historical events. Historically, such disdain for supposed conspiratorial “masters of the universe” has led members of the hard left to promote populist syntheses of right and left-wing opposition to liberalism.[11] At this juncture between hard left and radical right, fascist groups can gain hegemony by deploying syncretic ideology toward the generation of socio-political conditions more amenable to fascist movements. At the same time, these movements fail to deliver on their “revolutionary” promises, typically succeeding merely in providing a smoother socio-political basis for the accumulation of capital.[12]

    Thus, fascists glean from revolutionary movements the auspices of a virile state even while finding “classical liberal” allies in their crushing of the radical mass movements they pretended to truly represent.[13] Fascist advocacy of a “national revolution” against technocratic liberal democracy deploys populist tropes against the rising tide of grassroots leftwing movements and invited collaborations with the anti-parliamentary left.[14] The fruits of these efforts emerged in Italy with an aesthetic-nationalist movement that openly conflated right and left terminology in efforts to produce a “New Man” who would bring about the “New Age.”[15] Hence, fascism in its early form represented an undoubtedly right-wing political ideology that offered a totalitarian solution to dissatisfaction with parliamentary compromises—a national revolution that would restore older forms of sovereignty, re-establishing patriarchy at the heart of a revival of classical myths and archetypes. In this sense, I follow Roger Griffin’s “new consensus” definition of fascism as palingenetic ultranationalism—i.e., the rebirth of a mythical nation founded on myths of sovereignty and projected into a futurist “New Age” through the nomination of a subjectivity created by and creating a fusion of different, often conflicting and paradoxical ideologies, ideas, and commitments.[16]

    Syncretism

    Syncretism is not merely the fusion of left and right but the assemblage of contradictory concepts into a quasi-spiritual worldview (e.g., national socialism, elitist populism, esoteric political religion, and völkisch futurism) held together as if by magic. Although in general it exposes massive internal conflicts, syncretism enables the particular spatio-temporal adaptation of fascist movements to localized and historical phenomena in order to insinuate “palingenetic ultranationalism” into different conditions, while also opening the possibility of entryism within different political and social groups. In the same way, syncretism becomes a tool through which disinformation networks appropriate pre-existing online cultures, political groups, and social movements, warping their discourses toward the objectives of illiberal populism. Intentional disinformation flows suffuse not only right and left, but disparate socio-political subcultures from the organic food movement to anti-vaxxers to flat earth theories for the development of a syncretic geopolitical subject that conforms to the desires of authoritarian leaders.

    George L. Mosse, among the forerunners of the “new consensus,” Sternhell, one of its critical contemporaries, and Emilio Gentile, a luminary in the current study of fascism, have all offered incisive interpretations of such tendencies, as has antifascist scholar Umberto Eco. For Mosse, fascism represented both the incitement of revolution against liberal democracy and the subsequent taming of that revolution through the incorporation of the masses—an “anti-bourgeois bourgeois revolution.”[17] Hence, through a conditioned populist resentment against the current bourgeois elites, fascism empowered frustrated groups within the bourgeoisie to overthrow the “system” and replace it with their own.

    In his well-known essay, “Ur-Fascism,” Eco contends with the frustration at the heart of fascism and its implications for the “fuzziness” of fascist ideology. Fascism becomes “an all-purpose term because one can eliminate from a fascist regime one or more features, and it will still be recognizable as fascist.” Only through this physical acting out of ideological fallacies can fascism oppose the “analytical criticism” that would otherwise level it, Eco argues.[18]

    Throughout his work, Zeev Sternhell observes similar tendencies at root in fascism—namely fascist Georges Valois’s calling for a “fusion of nationalism and socialism.”[19] The currents that emerged in France and Italy, using syndicalist anti-parliamentarianism to fan the flames of mass action in the service of an idealized national myth, produced a collective, right-wing revolutionary subject. Hence, fascism emerged from a sense that the violent overcoming of intellectual and political oppositions could form an ideology of action over ideas.

    In his important essay, Roger Eatwell expands on the contextualization of fascism, identifying a “spectral-syncretic model” for understanding its motivations. Drawing from the themes of “natural history,” geopolitics, political economy, and “leadership, activism, party and propaganda,” Eatwell approaches fascism across different stages and scales in order to obtain a fuller understanding of its necessary components.[20] Fascism could not reconcile entirely the ideological divisions of its time and was left with a partial incorporation of a number of different positions—the New Man and the classical archetype; Christianity and anti-clerical paganism; irrationalism and science; private property and social welfare.[21] For these reasons, fascism’s totalitarian approach to “political culture” actually spread immense ideological confusion that further enabled the Leader to make apparently pragmatic decisions.

    This final point appears also in the work of Emilio Gentile on “Fascism as a Political Religion.” Gentile argues that “this syncretism of different beliefs within fascist ideology permitted the existence of diverse approaches, but none of these could hope to present itself as the only authentic interpretation of the ‘faith.’” The ideological split between fascism and the Catholic Church had to be closed by Fascism’s ultimate triumph over the Church as its genuine representative. Similarly, German fascism “‘Aryanized’ and ‘Germanized’ Christ and God.”[22] In other iterations of fascism throughout the world, for example with Brazil’s Integralistas, syncretism enabled the adoption of “Fascist rationale and leadership… but only in association with local and cultural traditions and innovations carefully selected and emphasized by leading intellectuals.”[23]

    A Brief Introduction to Multipolarity

    The syncretic alternative media networks that engaged in political discourse surrounding the 2016 presidential elections in the US shared in common a commitment to “anti-establishment” politics. Across international and local scales, this alternative media ecosystem typically framed Russia as a leading, global opponent to the establishment. The approach of syncretic alternative media networks, then, promoted a geopolitical understanding of the North Atlantic as the liberal, establishment base, sympathizing instead with Eurasian hegemony in a “multipolar” context.

    Multipolarism emerged in the Soviet Union during the late-60s and 1970s as a realpolitik fix for the crises of Khrushchevian internationalism. Among its most important progenitors, Yevgeni Primakov developed crucial ties between the Soviets and the Ba’athist Parties in both Iraq and Syria.[24] Through multipolarism, the Soviets could support authoritarian-conservative nationalism as a bastion against the US and the State of Israel, which it deemed the global imperialist powers. After the fall of the Soviet Union, Primakov helped translate Soviet era policies, including intelligence operations, into the modern Russian Federation while serving as Minister of Foreign Affairs and then Prime Minister from 1996-1999.[25] After President Boris Yeltsin’s pro-Western tenure, the regime of Vladimir Putin drifted increasingly toward a “multipolarism” dedicated to Russia as an independent, Eurasian world power somewhere between empire and “civilization state.”[26] Today, Putin’s policies are often viewed as a vacillation between Primakov’s “pragmatic” approach and the syncretic approach advocated by the most radical progenitor of “multipolarism,” Russian fascist Alexander Dugin.[27]

    Multipolarism suits Dugin’s brand of fascism, because it stems from the Soviet Union’s support for the authoritarian fusion of nationalist and socialist tendencies in opposition to liberal capitalism.[28] As a National Bolshevik who longed for an ultranationalist form of the Soviet Union, Dugin set the groundwork for the junction of left and right as a feature of disinformation campaigns that often promote Russian media over and against establishment “mainstream media,” and in some cases are openly affiliated with Duginist ideology. However, disinformation involves a complex field of shared interests, overlapping audience, and collaborative partnerships in which Dugin and his ideology play an important and influential role—perhaps even to the chagrin of some of its other progenitors.

    Dugin’s Eurasianism and Traditionalism

    Dugin’s geopolitical ideology, which he calls “Eurasianism,” stems from an effort to join multiple regions and diverse political and spiritual approaches into an overarching, imperial construct stretching from Dublin to Vladivostok.[30] Configured in accordance with a “multipolar” strategy, Dugin’s Eurasia would echo an agenda similar to the European New Right and its chief advocate, Alain de Benoist, who is one of Dugin’s intellectual heroes.[31] Arguing for a heterogeneous assemblage of homogenous ethnostates, such a multipolar world relies on authoritarian regimes masked as direct democracy through predicates of a community solidarity based on strict “natural hierarchies” associated with staunch, “blood and soil” patriarchy.[32]

    Hence, Dugin argues for a Traditionalist approach that endorses far-right Russian Orthodoxy, Protestant fundamentalists, the kind of reactionary Catholicism advocated by Rexist Leon Degrelle and practiced by members of the Spanish Falange, and hardline Shi’a Islam, as long as they remain within discrete geographic regions. Dugin’s most influential book to date, Foundations of Geopolitics, situates post-war fascists within the genealogy of “classical” geopolitical theorists. Instead of full-blown Hitlerism, then, Dugin maintains a position of “conservative revolution,” referring to far-right Nazi collaborators like Carl Schmitt and Ernst Jünger as his immediate influences.[33] Despite his efforts to place some distance between himself and the old Nazi Party core, Dugin’s analysis results in a racist, occult screed about the prior existence of a Hyperborean “root race” of pure Aryan types.[34]

    Nationalist Entryism

    Amid the reaction to Ukraine’s 2004 Orange Revolution in Russia, Duginism was transmitted into a street-level movement of “managed nationalism” that, alongside youth organizations like the Gladiators, Nashi, and the Slavic Union, could defeat liberal opposition to Putin’s administration within Russia, itself.[35] Dugin also helped create a new political party called Rodina (Motherland) alongside former left-wing economist and LaRouche associate, Sergei Glazyev, hoping to support Putin through “controlled democracy” by using nativism to draw working class votes from the Communist Party.[36] Although Rodina transitioned to the leadership of Sergei Rogozin, whose geopolitical vision is quite different from Dugin’s, Rodina and its leadership continued to draw leftists into a right-wing opposition to liberalism.

    In accordance with their worldview, Duginists and similar far-right activists worked to enter the anti-globalization movement through an illiberal “anti-globalist” approach. Among the most open instances of entryism occurred among Dugin’s followers in Italy, where Claudio Mutti and his colleagues, Claudio Terciano and Tiberio Graziani, among other right-wing extremists, were allowed to affiliate with the Assisi-based Campo Antimperialista.[37] Although recent literature on the subject suggests that their interventions ended due to the controversy that it raised, the milieu fostered by active participation of fascists with left-wing anti-imperialists provided the space for important left-wingers to convert to the Eurasianist cause.[38] By the mid-2000s, the Campo had drawn in Holocaust denier Claudio Moffa and an important Marxist theorist named Costanzo Preve, who gravitated toward the Duginists, publishing with their presses and appearing with them at conferences.

    In conjunction with the Russian Anti-Globalization Movement, later recast as the Anti-Globalization Movement of Russia, members of Rodina would emerge as an illiberal, reactionary force merging right and left through collaboration with other ostensibly left-wing, anti-imperialist groups from the Campo Antimperialista to associated left-wing groups in the US like the Workers World Party.[39] This considerable left-right crossover compounded ongoing organizational crossover across national and international scales, particularly over the question of geopolitical “multipolarism.”[40] Along with other interlinked think tanks like the German Center for Eurasian Studies and the Polish European Center of Geopolitical Analysis, propaganda organs like Graziani’s Geopolitica, and international conferences like Iran’s New Horizon, the Anti-Globalization Movement of Russia, Campo Antimperialista, and Workers World Party contributed to the development of an extensive international network supported by Russian soft power and largely favorable to the Kremlin’s geopolitical initiatives.

    Conclusion

    The ideology and strategy of “managed nationalism,” or state support of right-wing groups to dismantle the gains of the left, emerged across international and local scales in relation to Dugin’s participation in the ideological and practical reactionary movements of the early-mid-2000s. With the Russian invasion of Georgia in 2008 and the later conflicts in Syria and Ukraine, the Kremlin’s rhetoric and practices pivoted more toward Eurasianism, bringing Dugin and his associates greater influence.[41] For instance, Dugin’s compatriot, Sergei Glazyev, who opined about a Jewish plot to replace Russians, became Putin’s advisor on Eurasianism.[42] This geopolitical pivot brought with it a new form of “hybrid warfare” (often framed as “the Gerasimov doctrine”), which advances cyber-attacks, propaganda techniques, and disinformation in accordance with many of the “net-centric war” theory outlined by Dugin and developed further by the Command and Control Research Program of the Office of Assistant Secretary of Defense, in which Russia strives to win physical contests before they happen by controlling the information space through information operations that delegitimize their geopolitical opposition.[43]

    It is important to note that the theories that drive modern covert action are opaque by nature, and Dugin’s is one of at least three leading, and often interwoven, influential theoretical formulations of hybrid war (with Evgeny Messner and Igor Panarin), which cannot be fully exposited in this article. In the next section, however, I will show the integral participation of Duginist networks in disinformation campaigns, and the deployment of discursive and strategic approaches associated with Duginism—particularly, as Starbird, Arif, and Wilson show, the “strategy of targeting, infiltrating, and shaping online activism,” syncretism, and geopolitical positions aligned with multipolarity.[44] Through this effort, we can gain a clearer understanding of the usage of extremism within disinformation campaigns.

    II. The Vertical and Horizontal Structure of Illiberal Disinformation Networks

    When presenting the media ecosystem that forwards the Kremlin’s foreign policy interests, the obvious imperative falls on describing its state-funded and state-run media, which have at many points spearheaded online disinformation. This section first unpacks Russian state media available in the West through RT and Sputink in Horbyk’s terms, as “a vertikal—a Soviet‐time term connoting a strictly hierarchical and monolithic power apparatus—in the media system.”[45] Next, it explores some different horizontal networks of influence groups and websites that help disseminate pro-Russian disinformation. Lastly, it shows tacit integration between the two.

    The “Vertikal”

    The origins of RT are somewhat murky, but can generally be located in RIA Novosti. A state-run Russian news agency, RIA Novosti created a non-profit called TV-Novosti, which then founded RT as “Russia Today” in 2005 amid the “managed nationalism” campaign. While TV-Novosti’s non-profit status gives RT the pretense of autonomy from direct state control, the organization is considered extremely important for the Kremlin’s domestic and foreign strategies. RT first emerged to promote Russian culture, but the experience of the 2008 conflict in Georgia and contested 2011 Russian legislative elections led to its transition into “a political tool to undermine the American position in global politics.”[46]

    During Occupy Wall Street, RT promoted left-wing opposition to liberal economics by hosting a number of left activists from the US and other countries in Europe. In discussions ranging from economics to geopolitics, leftists found the attention they felt they deserved, and a platform to spread their ideas to millions of people. At the same time, RT provided platforms to Eurasianists like German Duginist Manuel Ochsenreiter, Polish activist Mateusz Piskorski, and Claudio Mutti’s colleague Tiberio Graziani. Piskorski would go to Polish jail on charges of spying for Russia and China, while Ochsenreiter stands implicated in a 2019 “false flag” firebombing of a Hungarian cultural center in Ukraine, which prosecutors believe is connected to Russian secret services.[47] As well, RT promoted conspiracy theorists like “great replacement” theorist Renaud Camus and French “9/11 truth” activist Thierry Meyssan, whose own media node, Voltaire Network, includes Dugin associate and Rosneft spokesperson Mikhail Leontyev among its stable of writers.[48] In this manner, RT groups together left-wing and right-wing illiberalism corresponding to a quasi-populist coalition in favor of the Kremlin’s geopolitical imperatives (e.g., support for Bashar al-Assad, Russia’s semi-clandestine occupation of the Donbass, and Euroskepticism).

    RT’s efforts provide an aura of respectability to marginal Duginist activists, thus boosting their pet causes and projects. For instance, RT promoted an obscure fascist commentator named Joaquin Flores as an informed pundit. Hailing from Los Angeles, Flores helped moderate a left-wing MySpace forum in the early 2000s before moving to fascism based on his rejection of feminism and liberalism. He joined a spin-off of the fascist skinhead group American Front, called New Resistance, run by long-time fascist James Porrazzo. New Resistance helped bring Flores into the international Duginist network, through which he moved to Belgrade, developed political affinities with the far-right Serbian Radical Party, and helped broaden the Duginist online network. In the early 2010s, Flores joined the Center for Syncretic Studies (CSS), which focuses on developing the Duginist foundations of Eurasianism and multipolarism.[49] CSS’s media site, Fort Russ, provides news and analysis from a Duginist perspective. Through this work, Flores became a well-known figure among Duginists, but remained entirely obscure until RT’s promotion opportunities.

    Another Duginist given public attention by RT is Andrew Korybko. One of the more prolific commentators in the Duginist think tank Katehon, Korybko has written a book about hybrid war addressing Syria and Ukraine, and between 2015-2016 he placed seven articles in the website of Russian Institute for Strategic Studies, which likely developed aspects of the strategy for intervention in the 2016 elections.[50] The leader at the time, a Lieutenant General of the Foreign Intelligence Service named Leonid Reshetnikov, also sat on the board of Katehon.[51] Though at this point Korybko maintains a high stature in Russian political life, RT’s attention both represented and propelled his ascent.

    Hence, RT not only facilitates the spread of Duginist geopolitics through the promotion of its exponents, but it has become a key conduit relaying informational presentation from think tanks to the public. As well, RT came to promote conspiracy theories as ways of confusing its audience’s understanding of key issues in order to advance Russian policy interests. In the words of scholar Ilya Yablokov, RT became “a specific tool of Russian public diplomacy aimed at undermining the policies of the US government and, in turn, defending Russia’s actions.”[52] In particular, Yablokov observes, RT promoted the “underdog” vision of Vladislav Surkov, mastermind of “sovereign democracy” and “managed nationalism”—“conveying Russia as a ‘speaker’ on behalf of the third-world nations excluded from the US-led ‘New World Order.’” However, Yablokov argues that RT is not truly Duginist, since the “ambiguity and heterogeneity of the ideological foundation of the current Russian political regime makes anti-Americanism the only constant element of RT’s agenda.”[53] Such an orientation enables the support of populist political parties, usually of the radical right, which the Kremlin hopes to support as an increasingly viable alternative to the EU and NATO.

    In December 2013, RIA Novosti and radio service Voice of Russia were brought together under the name Russiya Segodnya, which literally translates to Russia Today. Although the Kremlin denies that Russiya Segodnya and RT are connected, they share the same editor-in-chief, Margarita Simonyan.[54] Within a year, Russiya Segodnya reconfigured the previously-existing Voice of Russia into Sputnik News, which would feature international news and podcasts under the name Radio Sputnik. In the words of Roman Horbyk, “The launch of new state news agencies Rossiya Segodnia (based on the restructured RIA Novosti) and Sputnik, with budgets in the billions, marked the completion of a vertikal—a Soviet‐time term connoting a strictly hierarchical and monolithic power apparatus—in the media system.”[55] Created to counter “propaganda promoting a unipolar world,” Sputnik more explicitly delivered their terms of multipolarism and more openly advocated for left-right syncretism against “Atlantic liberalism.”[56] Sputnik would become more radical than RT in forwarding conspiracy theories, Eurasianism, and alliances between fascists and leftists in opposition to liberalism.

    Additional fascinating examples of Russian state systems percolating into the alternative media ecosystem are Redfish, the New Eastern Outlook (or Journal-NEO), and Strategic Culture. Promoting stories of social unrest in opposition to neoliberalism, Redfish is a project supported by the Kremlin that bears the aesthetics of an independent alternative news startup giving it more social media appeal than RT, from which most of its publicly-associated employees hailed in 2018.[57] The publication of the Institute of Oriental Studies of the Russian Academy of Sciences, New Eastern Outlook produces conspiracy theories about Rothschilds and George Soros and Islamophobic material, and hosts articles by Duginist Catherine Shakhdam and conspiracy theorist Vanessa Beeley, among others. Although New Eastern Outlook has a far smaller reach than Sputnik and RT, it provides more appearance of diversity within a media ecosystem largely controlled by think tanks and the vertikal.[58] Similarly, the Strategic Culture Foundation emerged from a Moscow think tank run by former-Soviet politician, Yuri Prokofiev, to undermine US foreign policy, hosting disinformation purveyors who appear to present autonomous and unbiased findings on their commentary site, Strategic Culture.[59] In short, the post-Soviet vertikal functions as controlled state media despite giving the appearance, on occasion, of an autonomous “free press” that appeals to left-of-center dissenters and lay geopolitical analysts who feel underrepresented in Western media.

    Horizontal Soft Power and the Alternative Media Ecosystem

    If Russian state media marks a vertikal, soft-power groups and alternative media organizations make up the accompanying horizontal networks. Here, the term “horizontal” is used to connote relative autonomy from the state but not equal relations between sites. Some sites are obviously more privileged than others, as is reflected in differential support from the vertikal, but they nevertheless remain engaged in a common system of propaganda “refraction.”

    Since Journal-NEO and Strategic Culture are directly connected to the Russian state, I have grouped them in the vertikal, but they behave more like horizontal network nodes, because their affiliations are opaquer. Soft power groups are often funded by the Kremlin or its loyal oligarchs, and typically promote round tables, academic conferences, and the dissemination of information and disinformation. The latter work of dissemination is commonly related to an alternative media ecosystem that engages a network of editors and journalists in the publication of articles that often reuse the same pro-Kremlin narratives with different “packaging” depending on the ideological bent of the site and its audience.[60] Soft power networks rely on fascists and far-right nationalists developing institutions that will propagate pro-Russian influence.

    Soft-power groups explored by Anton Shekhovtsov’s monograph, Russia and the Western Far Right, include the group around the Italian journal Geopolitica, founded by Graziani, and its related French group, the Institute of Democracy and Cooperation, founded by Natalya Narochnitskaya, who ran for election as a Rodina candidate. These two groups have had overlapping membership—for instance Narochnitskaya is on Geopolitica’s “Scientific Board” and US libertarian John Laughland has featured on the board of both.[61] Other inter-connected “think tanks,” publications, and institutions, such as Piskorski’s European Center of Geopolitical Analysis and Ochsenreiter’s German Center for Eurasian Studies, join in the promotion of pro-Kremlin propaganda efforts, including “election observation” for fraudulent elections in Eastern Europe.[62] While these European networks hold import for regional politics, an interlinked US-centered network similarly exists to support Russia’s geopolitical interests across the Atlantic.

    Many of the current influence groups within the US promoting Russia’s agenda through disinformation have a common “roof” through the efforts of far-right political operator Edward Lozansky. Born in the Soviet Union, Lozansky moved to the US toward the end of the Cold War in order to lobby in favor of Russian dissidents. He gained useful friends among the US New Right, including Heritage Foundation founder, Paul Weyrich, who would prove instrumental in replacing regimes formerly under Soviet control with far-right nationalists. Lozansky worked to set up a new “American University in Moscow” and a related “think tank,” which would group together “non-interventionist” journalists and political activists. Through his university, Lozansky produced a semi-annual “Russia Forum” where both pro-Russia leftists and rightists, including influential Congressmen and prominent media figures, mingle and share ideas on media, policy, education, and political strategy.[63]

    As of mid-2018, “Research fellows” at Lozansky’s university included members of RT and the Russian Institute of Strategic Studies, as well as the head of Dugin’s Centre for Conservative Studies, Mark Sleboda, and Daniel McAdams of the Ron Paul Institute, who described himself as a “Traditionalist” in his Twitter profile before changing it in 2019.[64] Another “research fellow,” Gilbert Doctorow, worked through the Russia Forum in 2014 to re-found the 1970s pro-détente group, the American Committee for East-West Accord (ACEWA), with co-founder Stephen F. Cohen.[65] A contributing editor to The Nation magazine, Cohen helped bring important political and business figures onto the board of ACEWA, while the group took on far-right journalist James Carden to edit its website.[66] The ACEWA’s launch later that year in Brussels brought together a round table including Aymeric Chauprade, a far-right advisor to the Front National’s Marine Le Pen who had recently returned from “observing” the illegal referendum in Crimea (Chauprade is also a member of the red-brown Izborsky Club think tank with Dugin, Glazyev, Leontyev, and Narochnitskaya, and is also on the “scientific committee” of Graziani’s Geopolitica).[67] Lozanksy himself has appeared with Dugin both on television and at conferences, as well as fascist ideologues like Alain de Benoist and former WikiLeaks attaché Israel Shamir. Aside from co-authoring articles with Lozansky in the far-right Washington Times, Doctorow openly advocates de Benoist’s vision of an illiberal populism fusing left and right.[68]

    Hence, Doctorow helped to foster in the ACEWA a pro-Kremlin organization linked to other soft-power groups around Europe through Lozansky’s Russia Forum. Along with the Russia Forum, Doctorow helped give a pro-alt-right propaganda site called Russia Insider its start. Russia Insider’s North American donations were “processed” by Consortium News, another pro-Kremlin site featuring syncretic political activists.[69] Among Consortium News’s stable of authors is Caitlin Johnstone, who calls for “shameless” alliances between the left and right in favor of the Kremlin’s interests, Pepe Escobar, who regularly appears at the conferences of Iran’s sanctioned, anti-Semitic New Horizon organization, and Max Blumenthal, who has been criticized for promoting conspiracy theories about Syria’s White Helmets and advocating a “multipolar world.”[70] Other fellows listed at Lozansky’s university think tank include a blogger named Anatoly Karlin, who has moved from his Da Russophile blog to the far-right Unz Review, and disbarred attorney Alexander Mercouris of alternative media site, The Duran, whose director hosts a program on RT. As well, Patrick Armstrong, James Jatras, and Anthony Salvia are interesting mentions on Lozansky’s list, because they were also listed as authors for Global Independent Analytics (GIAnalytics), a site that New Knowledge finds closely associated with the Internet Research Agency’s “troll factory.”[71] A glance at a sample of the members of Lozansky’s think tank who are connected to alternative news outlets and the sites they represent shows impressive content sharing [Table 1].

    American University in Moscow Ron Paul Institute The Duran Consortium News Russophile/Unz Review GIAnalytics Rank
    Edward Lozansky X X X 3rd
    Daniel McAdams X X X X 2nd
    Alexander Mercouris X X X X 3rd
    Gilbert Doctorow X X X 3rd
    Anatoly Karlin X X 4th
    Patrick Armstrong X X X  * X 2nd
    James Jatras X X X X X 1st
    Anthony Salvia X X 4th
    Rank
    1st 3rd 2nd 4th 2nd 4th

    Table 1. An examination of cross-referenced authors and websites linked to the American University in Moscow’s think tank. The grey boxes signify that the author is a high-ranking member of or core writer for the site.
    * Note that Patrick Armstrong appears to post in Consortium News’s comments, but does not appear to be an author for the site.

    I analyzed the content sharing and cross-promotion of authors associated with the American University in Moscow in Table 1 by searching for the authors’ bylines within the websites in question. An “X” signifies that the author’s work appears in or is associated with the site or group in question. Association is used with regards to the American University in Moscow, while content inclusion is used with the other four sites. The most cross-published author in the group associated with Lozansky that I studied is Jatras, with Mercouris close behind and Lozansky, McAdams, and Doctorow tied for third. The sites that have cross-published every author are The Duran and the Unz Review, with Consortium News proving the most selective in this context. At the same time, Consortium News does quote McAdams as “a highly respected former Foreign Service Officer possessing impeccable credentials,” and while the Ron Paul Institute is only the second most selective, it also hosts an article quoting Gilbert Doctorow as a US-Russia relations analyst without an indication of bias. It is important to note that this set is only representative of alternative figures associated in 2018 with the American University in Moscow according to its website, and other connections with other sites are explored further in this article.

    I could not find evidence that GIAnalytics, the group most directly tied to the Internet Research Agency by the Mueller Report, cross-published any of the other authors; however, the site is offline now, making it difficult to research their archives. Other than Lozansky’s think tank, GIAnalytics has the highest membership out of the sample of groups represented at the American University in Moscow, with Consortium News in close second. Importantly, Joaquin Flores features as a member of GIAnalytics, and his site Fort Russ found promotional space at Lozansky’s Russia Forum along with Consortium News and Russia Insider. This again shows open Duginist involvement within the “alternative media” networks mobilized and supported by Lozansky in the context of his institutions. Figure 1 shows clear connections between GI Analytics and other groups in the sample, such as Russia Insider and The Duran (DiResta et al., 2018).

    Figure 1. Image of the GIAnalytics network produced by DiResta et al., 2018. Note the presence of Russia Insider, The Duran, The Saker, and Fort Russ, as well as Mercouris and Flores.

    Lozansky and his fellows also receive promotion and airtime on Russian state media, particularly Sputnik Radio. One show host at Sputnik, Brian Becker, is the head of Party for Socialism and Liberation, a spin-off of the hard-left Workers World Party.[72] On his show Loud & Clear, Becker has hosted Mercouris, as well as McAdams of the Ron Paul Institute, whose board also includes Geopolitica and Institute for Democracy and Cooperation member, John Laughland. Duginist Mark Sleboda made it on Loud & Clear more than forty times in the first two years of the program. Another Duginist, Catherine Shakhdam, was hosted more than twenty times during the same time period. Lozanksy, himself, joined the Sputnik News program of Scottish socialist John Wight, Hard Facts, for interviews promoting the “multipolar world.”[73] Of course, RT has helped forward the same voices, for instance hosting Doctorow, Becker, and McAdams on the same CrossTalk program in September 2016 for a conversation about “Increased Tensions” between Russia and the US. The promotion of horizontal networks joining the hard left to Duginists through the vertikal suggests that the Eurasianist approach to the “multipolar world” plays a role in overdetermining the geopolitical oppositions between nationalism and internationalism, particularly through the uses and distortions of the notion of anti-imperialism.[74]

    Site Overlap and Content Sharing

    Studies of site metrics and content sharing have exposed significant overlap both among “master narratives” and audiences who visit pro-Russian sites responsible for disinformation. This overlap suggests that a strong subculture of internet users regularly access these websites for their understanding of current events. It also renders explicit different scales of dissemination, from vertical to horizontal to mainstream.

    In December 2017 and January 2018, I ran the Audience Overlap Tool available through Alexa.[75] Using proprietary algorithms, the Audience Overlap Tool identifies and ranks the sites that audience members use to travel from and to a given site, and then presents a visualization of those sites based on their own audience. Thus, it both visually and numerically represents the clustering of sites. It should be noted that audience overlap does not necessarily imply shared ideology. A site might share an audience because people click to and from a ruthless critique. However, using empirical data and qualitative analysis, we can identify ideologically similar sites from ideologically opposed ones. This becomes complicated given the syncretic characteristics of disinformation schemes; however, where their agreement on specific issues becomes more pronounced than their general ideological differences, they are still considered similar and their clustering is considered to be representative of their similarity rather than their opposition.

    It should also be noted that clustering becomes dependent on the variables, or sites, selected in relation to one another. I chose Russia Insider, Consortium News, and The Nation because they have important relationships in associated personnel, and added The Saker as another site anchored within the illiberal disinformation ecosystem. While those individual sites do not change with regards to their individual site cross-overs, the overall visualization reflects the way that clustering occurs in relation to the four sites. Had I chosen different sites within the same network, the overall clustering would not appear the same.

    When I ran Alexa’s model, I observed significant clustering among Russian sites (vertical) clearly connected to Western-based pro-Russia media (horizontal), which shows a clear relationship with more mainstream sites autonomous from the disinformation ecosystem [Figure 2]. The Nation appears to present this bridge from the horizontal to the mainstream, while Russia Insider seems to present the site furthest embedded within the Russian media. As we will see in the next section, this composition appears to be further evidenced when examining the usage of “McCarthyite” as a slur during 2016 presidential elections.

    In an investigation into the site metrics (clicks from incoming and outgoing readers) of the most frequented Russia-friendly site in December 2017, The Duran, turned up a cluster of related sites—especially The Saker and 21stCenturyWire, which harbor the closest affinity for Russian politics and Duginist positions outside of those self-described Russian websites, themselves. Most of its viewers clicked over from Facebook, Google, and YouTube; however, importantly, Russia Insider and rt.com accounted for the fourth and fifth most clicks, showing how the audience flutters between networks.

    The fourth and fifth most entered sites from The Duran were Russia Insider and The Saker, which received more than 54,000 unique hits per month. The audiences for the Duran and The Saker show significant audience overlap with Russia Insider and Fort Russ, according to Alexa, suggesting a strong correlation between its politics and those of the Duginist network. Significantly, among the highest search engine keywords for those clicking on The Duran was “George Soros,” indicating a high degree of anti-Semitic conspiracy theorists enjoying their articles.[76]

    Figure 2. The site overlap visualization tool from Alexa produced this representation of discrete overlapping groups.
    Figure 3. Data visualization of content sharing networks found in Starbird et al. 2018.

    This complex assemblage of groups not only shares significant audience overlap but engages in important content sharing. In an important academic study of this syncretic approach, “Ecosystem or Echosystem? Exploring Content Sharing across Alternative Media Domains,” scholars Kate Starbird, et. al., identify the same websites appearing to produce alternative frameworks and approaches to news stories, such as The Russophile, 21st Century Wire, The Duran, and Consortium News [Figure 3].[77] Each of these sites maintains “strong political themes reflecting distinct (and in some cases, seemingly conflicting) ideologies—including anti-imperialist left, libertarian, conservative and alt-right; as well as other more niche ideological leanings, including explicit anti-Semitism,” the authors state. Yet, the authors importantly conclude that these websites “are publishing the same content, but inside very different wrappers.”[78] A number of the same sites also appear in the study conducted by New Knowledge for the US Senate, because they either participated in or were directly supported by Russian disinformation “factory,” the Internet Research Agency.[79]

    Table 2 assesses overlapping members across Lozansky’s think tank, the content-sharing conspiracy theory sites in Starbird et al, 2018; those associated with GI Analytics according to New Knowledge’s 2018 white paper; those who the 2019 Stanford study found published fake authors attributed to the GRU, [80] and the Alexa model’s findings of overlapping sites between Russia Insider, Consortium News, The Saker, and The Nation. It should be noted that lack of affiliation of a member of a site with the American University in Moscow’s think tank does not indicate no connection to Russian media, while the reverse is true: affiliation suggests a person is engaged in pro-Russian illiberal media efforts.

    Lozansky fellow Starbird New Knowledge
    Stanford Rank
    Consortium News X X 3rd
    Fort Russ X X X 2nd
    The Saker X X 3rd
    The Duran X X X X 1st
    Russia Insider X X X X 1st
    RT X X 3rd
    Global Research X X X X 1st
    Unz/DaRussophile X X X 2nd
    21st Century Wire X 4th
    MintPressNews X X X X 2nd
    Voice of Russia/Sputnik X X 3rd

    Table 2. An X marks representation of affiliation of a member of the website with Lozansky’s think tank and presence in studies on disinformation content sharing (Starbird et al., 2018), Russian meddling (DiResta et al., 2018), fake authors (DiResta and Grossman, 2019), and audience overlap (based on 2018 Alexa search).

    Overlap in Table 2 mostly indicates whether the site is connected to Lozansky’s think tank, and whether it is observed as part of a disinformation ecosystem that involves significant content sharing (Starbird et al., 2018), audience overlap (Alexa), and is connected to the Internet Research Agency (Diresta et al., 2018) or published fake authors associated with the GRU’s disinformation efforts (Diresta and Grossman, 2019). The highest overlap occurs with The Duran, associated with Lozansky fellow, Alexander Mercouris; Global Research, a conspiracy theory site founded by former LaRouchite Michel Chossudovsky (who is also on the board of Graziani’s Geopolitica); and Russia Insider, associated with ACEWA cofounder, Consortium News member, and Lozansky co-author, Gilbert Doctorow. Next come Unz, Fort Russ, and MintPressNews. Voice of Russia, RT, The Saker, and Consortium News come in third place. The least overlap comes with 21st Century Wire, a site founded by a former associate editor of Alex Jones’s Infowars that includes, among other things, a 45-minute interview with Dugin.

    By embracing politics associated with different factions and sides in political conflict, media can appeal to different audiences and bind them through a common thread. In most cases I studied, that commonality would be geopolitical. By spreading disinformation across discrete political platforms, the alternative media “echo-system,” as some have called it, could exploit popular discontent against “the establishment” and desire for radical analysis through a process of media saturation. Yet the saturation, whereby multifarious platforms disseminate the same content by sharing one another’s articles, carries a second effect of uniting those discrete ideologies in a singular geopolitical agenda. For this reason, the horizontal disinformation syndicate studied above can be seen as a combined, if decentered and complex, system with syncretic characteristics. While it is largely self-organized, it relies on subtle cues within a hierarchy of privileged interests to adapt and reproduce media narratives often spontaneously in real time.

    Through this process, the syncretic media system engages in what I call refraction—a splitting and polarizing movement that reinforces the distinction between ideological “wrappers” that produce a “multipolar” assemblage of ideological positions out of a single ur-narrative under the aegis of geopolitics. While they vie for attention and publicity toward their own particular tendencies and leaders, the procedure tends to promote illiberal politics on an affective range and in matters of policy, whereby the commonality between ideologies is typically some variance of anti-establishment politics, and the establishment is generally viewed as “neoliberal.” Relying on Noberto Bobbio’s explication of the difference between left and right that hinges on the assertion of equality, the present study therefore finds that illiberal syncretism, while supportive of some left-wing tendencies, ultimately reproduces an authoritarian and therefore inegalitarian assemblage. There is perhaps no better example of the tacit support for authoritarian, populist politics than the disinformation media landscape’s engagement in the 2016 presidential elections in the US.[81]

    III. Disinformation as Cover for Active Measures: A Case Study of the 2016 US Presidential Elections

    During the lead-up to the November 2016 elections, some of the same journalists and media critics who denied Russian intervention and called people who recognized it “McCarthyites” were, at the same time, involved in pro-Kremlin influence groups with ties to Russian soft power organizations. Late in March 2019, special prosecutor Robert Mueller submitted his report to the Attorney General, William P. Barr, who promptly offered a summary declaring insufficient evidence in the case of collusion between the presidential campaign of Donald Trump and Russian officials. While many across the alternative news scene celebrated what they deemed vindication for casting doubts on collusion between Trump and Russia, they did not focus on the part of the Attorney General’s summary that described the special prosecutor’s findings of Russian intervention in the 2016 elections. Indeed, Mueller’s team exposed a sweeping disinformation operation extending from Kremlin-supported sources, and found that Russia’s GRU hacked the the Democratic National Committee and Clinton advisor John Podesta.[82]

    The final part of this study describes the influence of alternative media sites, supported by disinformation, in promoting the narrative that the assertion of Russian election meddling represented “McCarthyism.” Because of my findings of overlap described above, I was unsure where the narrative of “McCarthyism” would have begun. I created a vertikal hypothesis that the term was initially fielded by disinformation agents among the vertikal and then percolated through the horizontal media system into the mainstream. My alternative hypothesis was that the narrative emerged in the horizontal network and found re-enforcement in the vertikal. A null hypothesis identifying “no difference” would suggest the narrative began and was propogated chiefly by actors not associated with either horizontal or vertikal.

    After a careful, qualitative study of the evidence, my alternative hypothesis proved more adequate to explain the complex dissemination of the “McCarthyite” narrative than either the null or primary hypotheses. The claims of “McCarthyism” actually began with media figures connected to Russian disinformation circles closest to the US mainstream. Hence, in this case, there was a directional movement between Russian media, the horizontal structure of supporting sites, and the mainstream, but it flowed in the opposite direction from the one that would indicate a top-down, Russian operation, per se. Even if those using the accusation were still engaged in each cluster within the overall system, what I observed was something more like an incentive-based marketplace in which Russian media helped select and amplify particular networks and signals coming from discrete, autonomous and semi-autonomous actors within a syncretic network engaging in broad content-sharing.

    Methods

    My research question was whether pro-Kremlin influence operations helped forward pro-Trump narratives in the lead-up to the 2016 elections, and if so, what were their relationship to the international fascist movement? To answer this question, I performed a qualitative content analysis of the media listed by Google News referencing “McCarthyite” and “McCarthyism,” and then cross-referenced my findings with a Nexis Uni® search of the same terms with regards to the US presidential elections, from the end of the primary races to the end of Election Week. With this time span, we can understand better how the term “McCarthyite” increased in usage, as well as the extent to which its usage changed in relation to events taking place during the Republican and Democratic primary campaigns—particularly the release of the hacked Podesta and DNC emails.

    The popularity of particular articles using the term, as well as their impact on other articles and the extent to which they were linked to, reveal key influencers with regards to the usage of the term and the context through which its meaning is constructed. The total number of articles featuring “McCarthyite” and “McCarthyism” in 2015 was 1,464, increasing by 21% to 1,772 in 2016, and again by 104% to 3,611 the year after that, illustrating a significant growth in the terms’ usage. The most referenced person was Donald Trump, followed by Hillary Clinton, Barrack Obama, Vladimir Putin, and Bernie Sanders in that order, with the content indicating that most articles on “McCarthyism” were opposed to the notion that his campaign was supported by Russian active measures.

    I first stratified the population of hundreds of reports from the time period of June 1 to November 12, 2016 (n=693 in Nexis Uni®), at the end of elections week, separating articles using “McCarthyite” and “McCarthyism” in reference to the elections from those referencing other events. I then took a semi-random sample of 40 articles from mainstream and alternative news sources serving a mostly-US-based audience for qualitative analysis. Because the data is time series-dependent, insofar as the quantity of articles using “McCarthyism” increased, my sample needed to reflect the proportion of articles published within that time series. By using this method, I performed an analysis of the trends in the way that “McCarthyism” or “McCarthyite” was used, the inter-relations between usages, and the popularity of specific usages in reflexive, temporal, and co-constructive context. Lastly, I analyzed the Google Trends spreadsheet for “McCarthyism” to gauge the level and time of public interest and see if Google searches for the term coincided with prominent articles and events.[83]

     

    Search of “McCarthyism” (blue, n = 6,106) in Google Trends from June 1 to November 12, 2016 (searched on January 11, 2020)

    Data analysis required a qualitative differentiation between left and right-wing sites that used the term, and how the term is deployed relative to the political orientation of the site. In this way, better understanding could be gained on whether or not the term is used in a “partisan” fashion, or if its usage is generalized across political boundaries (and whether the fusion of political opposites bears its own partisanship). Other key terms, such as “Russia” and “collusion,” as well as “liberal,” point us toward a qualitative comprehension of the purpose for the term “McCarthyite.” In sum, this approach, which assesses the influence of given articles while qualitatively discerning their political positionality, brings us to a closer understanding of the evolution of the deployment of the term “McCarthyite,” and the dynamics of political relations comprising the ideology of Trumpism and its opponents.

    In short, I observed the usage of the term “McCarthyism” across different political platforms to understand the extent to which usage overlapped in terms of rhetoric, as well as deliberate cross-over (e.g., an interview of WikiLeaks’s Julian Assange on FOX News reposted on Sputnik News). The driver for the discourse of McCarthyism seems to have been Kremlin-sympathetic media networks, some of which actively engage with Kremlin oriented soft-power organizations. However the phenomena became widespread very rapidly as key influencers adopted and endorsed it. Hence, while decrying “McCarthyism” and conflating Russia with the left, a number of actors engaging in accusations of “McCarthyism” participated in a syncretic network with critical nodes in Russian media itself. This should not be surprising, since those involved in pro-Russia groups might level accusations to defend against people criticizing Russian interference. It follows that the claims of Russian interference have been supported by available evidence, so the accusations were often deceptive and functionally part of a broader disinformation campaign around the hacks and dissemination thereof that included conspiracy theories around murdered Clinton campaign staffer Seth Rich.

    Allegations of “McCarthyism”

    July 2016 was a busy month for the Clinton campaign as it geared up for the Democratic National Convention. On Friday, July 22, WikiLeaks released nearly 20,000 emails leaked from seven different accounts of high-level DNC officials like Communications Director Luis Miranda and Finance Chief of Staff Scott Comer. At least some of the leaks came from a hacker who went by the name “Guccifer 2.0,” allegedly a GRU cutout, but Assange denied that Guccifer or any other Russian source had provided the leaks, implying that they may have come from Seth Rich, a deceased DNC worker, while simultaneously stating that as a matter of policy WikiLeaks never disclosed the sources of leaks.[84] The salacious contents of the emails would preclude any party unity, as Sanders supporters grew outraged over emails that showed that the DNC unjustly favored the Clinton’s campaign.

    The day after the leaks, Clinton’s campaign manager Robby Mook told CNN that they believed that Russia had hacked the DNC’s accounts and sent the emails to WikiLeaks, who timed the release to help the Trump campaign. Many enraged Sanders supporters rejected the implications. As the Democrats went into their Convention, they were more disunited than ever, with embittered Sanders supporters attacking the notion of Russian intervention as a distraction from the DNC’s sabotage of the left. After Mook’s appearance, journalist Glenn Greenwald tweeted an image of Joseph McCarthy with the hashtag “UniteBlue” (Figure 4). The next day, June 24, ACEWA participant and then-editor and publisher of The Nation, Katrina vanden Heuvel, tweeted a RealClearPolitics article about Mook, adding the commentary: “McCarthyism 3.0/ Clinton Campaign Manager: Russians Gave Hacked DNC Emails to WikiLeaks In Attempt To Elect Trump” (Figure 5). The Nation’s editorial, “Against Neo-McCarthyism,” came three days later.[85] Between July 17 to 24, Google Trends shows a sharp increase of searches for the word “McCarthyite.” The term “McCarthyism” began to rise at this time and did not peak until election week, after which it dropped off considerably before rising even higher in January 2017.[86]

    Figure 4. Tweet by Glenn Greenwald posted after Clinton campaign manager Robby Mook appeared on CNN to say that Russia had hacked the DNC servers.
    Figure 5. Tweet by Katrina vanden Heuvel, editorial director and publisher of The Nation, the day after Robby Mook’s appearance on CNN.

    Trump continued to gaslight the Clinton campaign, at once denying Russian involvement and enjoining Russian hackers, “Russia, if you’re listening, I hope you’re able to find the 30,000 emails that are missing.”[87] That Saturday, Stephen F. Cohen of the ACEWA appeared on CNN, responding to claims that Putin might have hacked the DNC emails by insisting, “Vladimir Putin wants to end the ‘New Cold War’—and so do I.”[88] Vanden Heuvel further elaborate her position in an article published in the Washington Post the following Tuesday, declaring that the Democrats “are on the verge of becoming the Cold War party, with Trump, ironically, becoming the candidate of détente.”[89] Cohen joined conservative radio host John Batchelor for an interview published the next day titled, “Cold War, Détente, Neo-McCarthyism, and Donald Trump,” in which he claimed that Trump displays a “clearer advocacy for détente.”[90] In the meantime, nominally left-wing CounterPunch’s editor, Jeffrey St. Clair, similarly decried “the new McCarthyism,” and Fairness and Accuracy in Reporting argued that Clinton’s approach “serves to stoke Cold War panic with Russia.”[91]

    Writing for Jared Kushner’s former magazine, the Observer, an activist declared that “what Robby Mook did is pure McCarthyism.”[92] In the week and a half after the July 22 WikiLeaks release, the split in the Democratic Party between Clinton supporters and Sanders supporters had become irreconcilable, with the party’s left flank insisting that “Russiagate” was a McCarthyite distraction from the failures of Clinton’s global outlook—an opinion that fed into earlier expressions of support for Trump over Clinton.

    It should be recalled that, during this time, “Russiagate” referred almost exclusively to the since-proven claim that Russian intelligence was responsible for hacking the DNC and using WikiLeaks as a conduit for the dissemination of hacked emails. It should further be noted that the rise of the “McCarthyite” narrative appears to have begun with Greenwald, who openly aspires to boost the image of Russia in the US, and The Nation, which is directly connected to the ACEWA—The Nation’s Publisher/Editor, vanden Heuvel, and Stephen F. Cohen, contributing editor to The Nation and ACEWA co-founder, are married.[93] It is sufficient to say that their fiery rejection of Russian meddling afforded cover for ongoing Russian active measures, whether or not they provided that cover deliberately.

    Similarly distressing instances have occurred with regards to other media disinformation campaigns, including the downing of flight MH17 and Assad’s use of chemical weapons. In these cases, Russian media has joined the fray after autonomous media networks have promoted different theories absolving Russia and Assad of crimes.[94] By promoting these seemingly-autonomous channels, the Russian vertikal appears merely to be supporting the syncretic pro-Russia media network’s critique of its own government, while actually drawing from actors with whom it is connected. As well, the vertikal functions like a “nested hierarchy” in a market-like system, identifying favored theorists, rewarding them with media attention, and outsourcing regime propaganda.

    “McCarthyite” Hits the Mainstream

    On August 2, the LA Times featured an editorial from Justin Raimondo, an editorial director for the libertarian site Antiwar.com, calling the suggestion of Russian intervention, “the sort of McCarthyism that we haven’t seen in this country since the most frigid years of the Cold War.”[95] Antiwar.com draws 128,067 unique visitors per month, many of whom click over from Consortium News and Pat Buchanan’s far-right website, American Conservative, according to my 2018 Alexa Audience Overlap Tool search. Among its overlapping websites are the usual suspects, including The Unz Review, which hosts the openly antisemitic Da Russophile blog by Lozansky’s think-tank participant, Anatoly Karlin.[96]

    By August, websites had shifted the “McCarthyite” accusation from accusations of Russian hacking to claims that the Trump campaign might have been involved in, or known about, hacking the DNC server (the latter also being true, according to the Mueller report).[97] Following Raimondo’s editorial, Sputnik News posted two articles in quick succession on “the Clinton campaign’s rush into the comforting arms of McCarthyism” and how “the Clinton camp is obviously following in Joseph McCarthy’s footsteps.”[98] On August 9, Consortium News founder Robert Parry decried “Hillary Clinton’s Turn to McCarthyism,” and the fever pitch only increased as the campaign continued.[99]

    Continuing the gaslighting of the Clinton campaign, on August 8, long-time Trump consiglieri Roger Stone admitted to communicating with WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange. A few days later, he exchanged public tweets with Guccifer 2.0, thanking them, and then engaged in private communications with the account over a couple of weeks. [100] Regardless of Stone’s open flirtations with a cutout for the GRU and WikiLeaks, which disseminated its hacked data, the Trump campaign denied any insinuation of contact with Russian agencies or political operatives (a denial later proven false).[101]

    In mid-August, RT ran a five-minute piece titled “Parallels Drawn Between Clinton Campaign and McCarthy’s Witch-Hunt” featuring former CIA officer Philip Giraldi, a leading figure in the syncretic media ecosystem with bylines in all of the horizontal media sites studied in relation to Lozansky’s think tank.[102] On August 21, Sputnik announced “the resurgence of Cold War style McCarthyism and anti-Russian propaganda,” followed the next day by Huffington Post, which stressed the dangers of “Clinton’s present-day McCarthyism.”[103] The World Socialist Web Site extended the analysis the next day, attacking the New York Times for “outright lies in a manner reminiscent of McCarthyism.” By this point, as we see with Huffington Post, the “McCarthyite” narrative had become generalized and mainstream.

    Two days later Julian Assange gave a widely-viewed interview to Megyn Kelly of FOX News, insisting that Clinton has “grabbed on the neo-McCarthyism hysteria about Russia and has been using it to demonize the Trump campaign.”[104] Sputnik International and RT both publicized the interview through their networks, and RT published an article the following Sunday criticizing Clinton for “Russophobia.”[105] That Tuesday, Antiwar.com published “The Campaign to Blame Putin for Everything,” excoriating “the historically Russophobic Clintons,” and the next day, August 31, Glenn Greenwald went on Democracy Now to denounce linking WikiLeaks with Russia as “a new McCarthyism.”[106] That same day, the New York Times published an interview with Julian Assange in which he accused the newspaper of “erecting a demon” by supporting Clinton.[107] Nevertheless, the Mueller report later confirmed WikiLeaks likely received stolen emails from the GRU through an encrypted file sent via email, a fact which few of the advocates of the “McCarthyite” narrative have reflected on, much less been able to convincingly rebut.[108]

    The day after Greenwald’s interview with Democracy Now, the Observer criticized “an insurgence of neo-McCarthyism, alleging that the Trump campaign has ties to the Russian government,” and RT interviewed left-wing commentator Mike Papantonio, who called the question of Russian intervention “crazy, radical talk,” “all supposition” intended to distract from the content of the emails.[109] Two days after Papantonio’s interview, on September 3, RT turned on the left, inquiring into a “McCarthyism of the left?”[110] The following Wednesday, September 6, Breitbart was mocking “Hillary Clinton’s Absurd, McCarthyist Russian Conspiracy Theory” from their headlines, followed the next day by Consortium News’s scathing piece, “New York Times and the New McCarthyism.”[111] The period from September 4-11 saw an interesting rise in searches for “McCarthyite” according to Google Trends. Daniel McAdams of the Ron Paul Center tweeted on September 26 that Clinton’s claim that “Putin is hacking us” was an “insane conspiracy theory.”[112]

    The frequency with which alternative news sites published articles denouncing the “mainstream media” for McCarthyism, as well as their crossover in terms both of audience and journalists, is fascinating for a number of reasons. Perhaps paramount among those is the inability to explain the hacked emails. Some sites turned to conspiracy theories surrounding Seth Rich, a former DNC employee who had been tragically murdered; further investigation was unable to demonstrate that Rich or his murder had anything to do with the leaks, and Rich’s parents currently have an ongoing lawsuit against FOX News and two of its commentators for its unsubstantiated allegations about Rich.[113] Another interesting facet of the research thus far is the repudiation of “mainstream media” in and even to the mainstream media, as with vanden Heuvel’s editorial in the Washington Post, Raimondo’s editorial in the LA Times, and Assange’s interview in the New York Times. Similarly important was the convergence of left-wing repudiations with far-right media like Breitbart lambasting the “mainstream” media and left-wing McCarthyism, even amid high site ratings and campaigns to oust left-wing professors from universities.

    It is important to note that, at this point, not only had the term “McCarthyite” become diffuse but its narrative had also slipped into different meanings and contexts. The accusation that began with a denial of Russian hacking now involved general “Russophobia” and especially the idea that Trump was collaborating with the Russian government. Generally, the hysteria and anxiety surrounding the accusations of “collusion” were easily matched, if not exceeded, by the accusations of “McCarthyism” against those who correctly assigned blame for the email releases to Russian hackers disseminating through WikiLeaks. Again, it is important to stress that evidence does not necessarily show that the “McCarthyite” spin was centrally planned or conspired by the Kremlin, but that (1) it was propagated first by individuals like Cohen, Greenwald, and vanden Heuvel who have directly involved themselves in promoting Russia’s image, and (2) the Russian vertikal eagerly exploited it on behalf of a disinformation campaign in support of Trump’s campaign.

    Just days after the articles from Breitbart and Consortium, a Washington Post-ABC News poll showed that the negative spin surrounding the revelations around Russian meddling resulted in a tightening race with ominous signs for the Clinton campaign.[114] While nearly 100% of Trump’s supporters insisted they would vote, only 80% of Clinton’s said the same, and only a third of her supporters claimed to be enthusiastic. As Jeff Greenfield wrote in Politico, “constituencies most critical to her campaign seem to have no sense of urgency about keeping Donald Trump out of the White House.”[115] Of course, other elements contributed to the disenfranchisement of Clinton’s base, as well; however, after each debate, Clinton came out the victor, suggesting that her policies and approach appealed to more voters who participated in CNN/ORC polls.[116] As others have argued, the release of the hacked emails, the proliferation of disinformation, and the later, associated FBI announcement regarding Clinton’s use of a private email server, contributed to the decline in her popularity between and after the debates but was not necessarily decisive.[117]

    Importantly, many of those disillusioned with Clinton could be found among the Democratic Party’s base of non-white supporters actively targeted by disinformation.[118] Amid controversy over her comments on “super-predators” during the 1990s and the legacy of mass incarceration, as well as disillusionment with the Democrats’ handling of the Black Lives Matter movement, Black Agenda Report declared that “the Clinton campaign has ignited a neo-McCarthyist war on Russia and anyone who stands in the way of her agenda.”[119] Meanwhile, Sputnik continued its onslaught with headlines like, “When Hillary Clinton Gets Scared She Plays the Russia Card,” making an allusion that connected criticism of Russian interference to the “race card.”[120] Furthermore, it is now understood from millions of published tweets pushed out of the Internet Research Agency at the time, that Kremlin-controlled bot and troll accounts on social media used racial divisions to turn discontent and disenfranchisement against liberalism.[121]

    The Elections and Aftermath

    Clinton’s bad September turned into a terrible October when, on October 9, WikiLeaks produced a new bevy of emails from Podesta’s email account, leading to a deluge of fiery illiberalism throughout the syncretic ecosystem. That evening, Trump proclaimed, “I love WikiLeaks!” at a rally. Two days later, WikiLeaks wrote Trump, Jr., “Hey Donald, great to see you and your dad talking about our publications. Strongly suggest your dad tweets this link if he mentions us… Btw we just released Podesta Emails Part 4.” In an apparent exposition of collaboration, Trump, Jr., tweeted in support of Wikileaks two hours later, lamenting the “Rigged system!” and two days later tweeted out their link.[122] That same day, Roger Stone publicly denied collusion with WikiLeaks as “categorically false,” insisting that his relationship with Assange was only through a “mutual friend,” but that he had “a back-channel communications with WikiLeaks.”[123] He would later be convicted of lying to Congress and witness tampering in efforts to obstruct federal investigators’ inquiry into the hacked emails and Russian interference in the elections.[124]

    The week of October 9-16 saw the sharpest rise of Google searches for “McCarthyite” in the study period, indicating that, as the emails were released, more accusations of Russian meddling emerged, and activists responded with accusations of “McCarthyism.” As the weeks closed in on the November 7 election day, the flurry of articles cautioning against McCarthyism and Russophobia increased apace. From Counterpunch on Oct 18, left-wing organizer Srećko Horvat denounced the Clinton camp’s “‘soft’ McCarthyism,” while a Sputnik writer capitalized on the trends, lamenting that he was “The first victim of McCarthyism 2.0.”[125] The next day, Roger Stone was quoted in Breitbart as saying, “this is the new McCarthyism.”[126] At the same time, Consortium News ridiculed “The Democrats’ Joe McCarthy Moment” and nominally left-wing AlterNet blogger Ben Norton tweeted about Clinton’s claim that WikiLeaks received the emails from Russian intelligence, “McCarthyism is alive and well.”[127]

    On RT on October 23, anti-imperialist commentator Daniel Patrick Welch declared, “Clinton [is] using anti-Russia red-baiting not seen since days of McCarthyism,” followed the next day by Consortium News’s recap of the Russian response to the recent debate in which Doctorow declared, “The main theme of American political life right now is McCarthyism and anti-Russian hysteria.”[128] Antiwar.com ran their piece, “’McCarthyism,’ Then and Now,” the following day, and three days later, on October 28, CounterPunch likened the charges of Russian interference to “the paranoia that accompanied the Red Scare in the aftermath of the Bolshevik Revolution and then reappeared with greater intensity in the form of McCarthyism.”[129] The Observer declared that “McCarthyism 2.0 Has Infected the Democrats” on November 1, with Sputnik insisting, “Washington Fails to Prove Russia Interfered in US Elections in ‘Big Way.’”[130] Pro-Palestine blog MondoWeiss quoted Carden of the ACEWA decrying “a very very ugly echo of McCarthyism” three days later, and then the day before the election, left-wing site Jacobin stated that, “to distract attention from the content of the emails, the Democrats have engaged in a modern-day version of McCarthyism.”[131] Again, the inclusion of sites like Jacobin and Huffington Post only further illustrates how widely the campaign to identify Russia’s hacking of the DNC as “McCarthyism” had spread throughout the alternative media ecosystem well beyond Russia’s apparent direct influence.

    In the two years following the election of Donald Trump, the term “McCarthyism” would splash across some 5,260 headlines internationally, according to Nexis Uni®, producing an average of at least seven articles every day. The prominence of allegations of McCarthyism also increased. There is no doubt that the discourse of McCarthyism expressed a radical frustration with the liberal, centrist wing of the Democratic Party by a new generation of left-wing participants largely identified with Bernie Sanders. According to the Cooperative Congressional Election Study, 12 percent of those who voted for Sanders in the primaries voted for Trump in the general election, meaning that, ceteris paribus, Michigan, Wisconsin, and Pennsylvania would have swung to Clinton had those voters stayed home or voted with the party.[132] While this does not mean that Sanders helped Trump win the election, it suggests that members of the electorate to whom the radical left would have appealed, and who likely disapproved of the Obama administration, accorded, in general terms, with the crossover between right and left constituted by the network of sites ranging from Sputnik and Russia Insider to Consortium News and The Duran to The Nation and others.

    IV. Discussion

    The Meaning of McCarthyism

    While the sites I studied all share a common geopolitical imperative aligned with the “multipolar world” and, more specifically, Eurasianism, calling them “Duginist” would be too broad a generalization.[133] They certainly take part in the same movement in favor of Kremlin-centered geopolitics, and they engage in substantial crossover, but they are different nonetheless. This study does not suggest that everyone engaging in the discourse of “McCarthyism” is a fascist or deliberately contributing to fascist discourse or connected to the Kremlin. It merely reveals the extent to which disinformation has influenced the geopolitical approaches of the Western left and right wing, while also establishing a pattern of far-left and far-right agreement encouraged by Duginist tendencies.

    Importantly, the allegations of McCarthyism appear to have begun principally with horizontal networks tied to pro-Kremlin soft power, and extended to Russian state media’s vertikal soon afterwards. The groups within the horizontal networks that have been identified by myself, in Starbird et al., 2018, in New Knowledge’s 2018 report, and the Stanford 2019 report reproduced similar narratives. According to a Lexis Uni® search, The Nation was the top influencer among the sites that I studied, having published about a dozen stories featuring the keywords “McCarthyism” or “McCarthyite” in reference to the elections during the study period, inclusive of cross-posts from the conservative John Batchelor show. All but one of The Nation’s “McCarthyite” articles came from Cohen.

    By contrast, Consortium News and Global Research each published some four such articles each during the five-month study period, not an insignificant number by any means, but small compared to Cohen’s output alone. By comparison, the Ron Paul Institute’s director, Daniel McAdams, tweeted twice about it, and both The Duran and Russia Insider posted a story on it. Antiwar.com and the Observer also featured prominently in my sample, but remained peripheral to my study outside of audience overlap and content sharing (Starbird et al., 2018). Perhaps, then, the most weight was likely given to the “McCarthyite” accusation from sharing and cross-publishing Cohen’s persistent articles, along with the important mainstream editorials by vanden Heuvel and Raimondo, as well as the generalized narrative saturation and refraction. In this way, disinformation networks helped stoke and guide the discourse on “McCarthyism,” but were not wholly responsible for their proliferation, as unaffiliated sites and groups took the proverbial baton during the race. It should be noted, though, that such independent activity is precisely the goal of disinformation.

    This pattern suggests that pro-Russian disinformation efforts do not always emanate vertically from Russian media, but through an adaptive process of testing the bounds of political discourse and farming out opinions in order to ascertain and develop popular trends on pressure issues. The vertikal, then, appears to reinforce broader ideological trends that are developed in a more complex, multi-scalar fashion, rather than controlling them. However, it is important to notice that The Nation is one of the most important influencers in the US Left, so the direct, early interventions of individual editors and the magazine suggests that, in this case, the movement of disinformation across the horizontal structure did not flow in a necessarily bottom-up or grassroots fashion, but instead manifested through a weighted system of nested hierarchies. Furthermore, given The Nation’s proximity to the ACEWA, a pro-Russia influence group with ties to prominent figures close to the Kremlin, it is difficult to view its coverage as fully autonomous.

    Of course, reward systems involve greater public notoriety through more prominent media and conference appearances. Following the election, The Nation began publishing breathless denunciations of “Russiagate” by journalist Aaron Maté, a contributor to The GrayZone Project, which spreads conspiracy theory narratives about Venezuela, Xinjiang, and Syria, among other places.[134] Through a November 2, 2019 Alexa search, I discovered that the most similar site to GrayZone is TheAmericanConservative, a far-right publication that names ACEWA editor James Carden as a “Contributing Editor.”

    By building a bridge from the political margins to the mainstream, The Nation continued to make pro-Russia disinformation palatable to larger audiences interested in the merging of left and right. Through Maté, The Nation became one of the last sites conected to the public assertion that Russia did not meddling in the 2016 elections, going on Tucker Carlson’s far-right show as late as December 2019 as a contributor to The Nation to claim that no evidence could either tie Russia to the hacking of the DNC or disprove Trump’s false assertion that Ukraine had actually hacked the DNC in 2016.[135] A quantitative analysis by the Twitter account Conspirador Norteño shortly after Maté’s FOX News appearance found that “a significant portion of the amplification” of Maté’s twitter presence “is coming from #MAGA Twitter.”[136]

    Using the tool Pushshift, which sifts through social media for trends and topics, I collected the total number of tweets using the term “McCarthyite” over the last five years [Figure 6][137]. The top ranked twitter accounts included Glenn Greenwald at the top, with Maté ranked fifth and his GrayZone colleagues, Ben Norton and Max Blumenthal ranked second and third, respectively. While Eli Valley lands in the fourth spot, his usage of the term appears to fall in a different milieu (anti-Zionism) from the context of Russian interference in the U.S. elections. Using the same tool to scan subreddits on the site Reddit for the same term, I found WayOfTheBern ranked second, left-wing podcast ChapoTrapHouse ranked fifth, and notoriously racist The_Donald ranked seventh [Figure 7].

    These searches of social media sites indicate the influence of conspiracy theorists spreading the message on Twitter, and the confluence of left and right-wing subreddits disseminating the same message on Reddit. They also show to what extent the GrayZone has emerged as a hub for allegations of “McCarthyite” activity since 2017—a process likely helped along through Maté’s collaboration with The Nation.

    Figure 6. PushShift.io analysis of top 10 Twitter accounts mentioning “McCarthyite”
    Figure 7. PushShift.io analysis of top 20 Subreddits mentioning “McCarthyite”

    It has been shown that a number of the groups insisting that the accusations of Russian influence in the elections amounted to McCarthyism were actually engaged in Russian influence groups during that period, not least of which being the Russia Forum and the ACEWA. Most importantly, the spread of the trope of “McCarthyism” was stoked by important actors supportive of the Kremlin, and occurred virtually overnight by thousands of independent actors, including journalists who ran with the narrative in a number of different directions. However, the most staunch promoters of the narrative appear to have come from the horizontal network of disinformation sites reinforced by the vertikal. In this fashion, disinformation benefits from a kind of “social capital” model that might provide some explanatory potential for the ease with which disinformation spreads through social media. Hence, by tracking claims of McCarthyism, we have seen how right and left met during the elections in an illiberal and populist, anti-establishment movement that generally viewed Trump as a more viable candidate than Clinton on the basis, in particular, of his position as the “détente” candidate toward Russia and its allies.

    Geopolitical alignments are critical, because they rely on phenomenological articulations of spatial association, rather than association by class or sociality. In this way, geopolitical alignments skew toward nationalism or similarly structured regionalism, even if they involve some degree of collectivist discourse of solidarity. It is, therefore, important to use caution approaching geopolitical arrangements, as such, working instead to deconstruct the claims that presuppose deterministic geopolitical thinking. The trap of syncretism, as Sternhell, Eco, Gentile, and Eatwell have noted, is alluring, but its inconsistencies produce chimerical ideologies given to authoritarian, nationalist systems.

    Potential for Follow-up Research

    The results of this study suggest many avenues for follow-up research and discussion. The syncretic, pro-Kremlin media networks described above form part of larger geopolitical networks that share many of the same interests. Importantly, they consist of a broader network incorporating far-right, left-wing, libertarian, and other ideological positions, making the network itself syncretic. On the other hand, within the network are not only left and right sites, but also syncretic sites that meld an array of political commentators, ideas, and theories together typically in support of conspiracy theories. Syncretism exists on different scales within this alternative media network, which maintains connections (as previously stated) based on audience overlap as well as personnel collaborations—as with Lozansky’s think tank, for example. The overlap and collaboration does not mean that over planning took place in dark, smoke-filled rooms, but that the network can be viewed as a system of discrete units with shared interests and goals, as well as common understandings which manifest in myriad verisimilar articles across disparate platforms and ideologies.

    Ascertaining and describing the differences between the various groups, from Consortium News to The Nation to The Duran, would take an article in and of itself. That these different but intersecting ideological producers appear to fit within the same discursive frameworks and conferences intimates the populist, “big tent” approach to pro-Kremlin geopolitics provided by syncretic platforms loosely aligned with the multipolar world. Furthermore, more extensive research is needed into the networks of bots on social media, as well as the extent of their influence. This could be accomplished through the creation of an index that combines the number of retweets and Facebook shares with monthly website hits, processed into a quantitative scale. Learning more about the global influence of pro-Kremlin media would enable closer understanding of the behavior of the sites, although the potential for sources like New Eastern Outlook and Strategic Culture that are not as popular would remain relatively opaque.

    Lastly, more geographical thought might be included in interdisciplinary research related to data science, communications, psychology, sociology, and international relations. Media strategies and policy proposals might emerge from this field that would enable the freedom of the press while delimiting the spread of damaging conspiracy theories and deliberate geopolitical propaganda that twists left-wing messaging toward the geopolitical aims of authoritarian regimes. While we might understand how disinformation spreads, we do not yet know why individuals promulgate it. Unlocking that question might provide the secrets to stopping the flow of disinformation not only at its source but at the point of consumption.
    _____

    Alexander Reid Ross is a PhD candidate in Portland State University’s Earth, Environment, Society Program and a Doctoral Fellow at the Centre for Analysis of the Radical Right. He is the author of Against the Fascist Creep (AK Press 2017), and his articles on disinformation and the far right have appeared in the Proceedings of the 2018 IEEE International Conference on Big Data and The Independent.

    Back to the essay

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    Appendix

    Attached as an appendix in PDF format is a table including notes on some of the outcomes of searches conducted in Alexa.com in December 2017.

    Notes

    [1] Bevensee, E., Ross, A.R., S. Nardin. 2019. “Malicious Bot Activity in the European Union Parliamentary Elections.” Autonomous Disinformation Research Network; Ferrara, E. 2017. “Disinformation and Social Bot Operations in the Run Up to the 2017 French Presidential Election.” First Monday, 22(8); Bennett, W.L., S. Livingston. 2018. “The Disinformation Order: Disruptive Communication and the Decline of Democratic Institutions.” European Journal of Communication, 33(2), 122-139; Marwick, A., R. Lewis 2017. Media Manipulation and Disinformation Online. NYC: Data & Society Institute.

    [2] Starbird, K., A. Arif, T. Wilson. 2018. “Understanding the Structure and Dynamics of Disinformation in the Online Information Ecosystem.” Defense Technical Information Center, Technical Report; Hjorth, F.G. & R. Adler-Nissen. “Ideological Asymmetry in the Reach of Pro-Russian Digital Disinformation to United States Audience.” Journal of Communication, 69(2), 168-192.

    [3] DiResta, R., K. Shaffer, B. Ruppel, D. Sullivan, R. Matney, R. Fox, J. Albright, B. Johnson. 2018. The Tactics and Tropes of the Internet Research Agency. Austin, TX: New Knowledge; Starbird, K., A. Arif, T. Wilson, K. Van Koevering, K. Yefimova, D. Scarnecchia. 2017. “Ecosystem or Echo-System? Exploring Content Sharing across Alternative Media Domains.” Proceedings of the Twelfth International AAAI Conference on Web and Social Media (ICWSM 2018), 365-374.

    [4] Starbird et al., 2017; Levinger, M. 2018. “Master Narratives of Disinformation Campaigns.” Journal of International Affairs, 71(1.5), 125-134.

    [5] Howard, P.N., G. Bolsover, B. Kollanyi, S. Bradshaw, L-M. Neudert. 2017. “Junk News and Bots During the US Election: What Were Michigan Voters Sharing Over Twitter?” COMPROP Data Memo, 26 March 2017; Starbird et al., 2017

    [6] See Mosse, G.L. 1972. “The French Right and the Working Classes: Les Jaunes.” Journal of Contemporary History.

    [7] Rainey, L.S., E. Gentile. 1994. “The Conquest of Modernity: From Modernist Nationalism to Fascism.” Modernism/Modernity, 1(3), 55-87.

    [8] Landa, I. 2010. The Apprentice’s Sorcerer: Liberal Tradition and Fascism. Leiden: Brill. 134. Importantly, fascists are quasi-populist, in so far as their use of völkisch and populist rhetoric is contradicted by their self-image as the “natural elite” within “the people” rather than “of the people” itself. Here, fascism is distinct from the populist radical right, which promotes an authoritarian, nativist agenda within the confines of parliamentary systems. While both utilize tropes identifiable both with left and right, fascism ultimately desires the overthrow of parliamentary democracy. Fascists might abide with participation in electoralism, but their ends are never met within the existing parliamentary context, partly because of their disdain for socialist successes within it. See Mudde, C. 2007. Populist Radical Right Parties in Europe. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.

    [9] Wistrich, R.S. 2012. From Ambivalence to Betrayal: The Left, The Jews, and Israel. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press.

    [10] For more on the hard right, see Lyons, M., C. Berlet. 2000. Right-Wing Populism in America: Too Close for Comfort. NYC: Guilford Press, 16.

    [11] Fine, R., Spencer, P. 2017. Antisemitism and the Left: On the Return of the Jewish Question. Manchester: Manchester University Press. See also Lyons and Berlet, 144.

    [12] Landa, 203.

    [13] Ibid, 194-200.

    [14] Sternhell, Z. 1986. Neither Right nor Left: Fascist Ideology in France, Trans. David Maisel. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

    [15] Dagnino, J. 2016. “The Myth of the New Man in Italian Fascist Ideology.” Fascism, 5, 130-148.

    [16] Griffin, R. 1993. The Nature of Fascism. NYC: Routledge, 32-36.

    [17] Benadusi, L. 2014. “A Fully Furnished House: The History of Masculinity,” In L. Benadusi, G. Caravale, eds. George L. Mosse’s Italy: Interpretation, Reception, and Intellectual Heritage. NYC: Palgrave MacMillan.

    [18] Eco, U. “Ur-Fascism.” New York Review of Books. June 22, 1995.

    [19] Sternhell, 105

    [20] Eatwell, R. 1992. “Towards a New Model of Generic Fascism.” Journal of Theoretical Politics, 4(2), 174.

    [21] Ibid, 189

    [22] Gentile, E. 2006. “New Idols: Catholicism in the Face of Fascist Totalitarianism.” Journal of Modern Italian Studies, 11(2), 143-170.

    [23] Da Costa, L.P. P. Labriola. 1999. “Bodies from Brazil: Fascist Aesthetics in a South American Setting.” The International Journal of the History of Sport, 16(4), 166.

    [24] Andrew, C. 2005. The World Was Going Our Way. NYC: Basic Books.

    [25] Katz, M.N. 2006. “Primakov Redux? Putin’s Pursuit of Multipolarism in Asia.” Demokratizasya 14(1), 144-152.

    [26] Silvius, R. 2015. “Eurasianism and Putin’s Embedded Civilizationism,” in D. Lane, V. Samokhvalov, eds. The Eurasian Project and Europe: Regional Discontinuities and Geopolitics. NYC: Palgrave Macmillan. 78-79.

    [27] Chebankova, E. 2017. “Russia’s Idea of the Multipolar World Order: Origins and Main Dimensions.” Post-Soviet Affairs, 33(3), 217-234.

    [28] See Stein, E. 2017. “Ideological Codependency and Regional Order: Iran, Syria, and the Axis of Refusal.” Political Science & Politics, 50(3), 676-680.

    [29] In particular, the Internet Research Agency promoted websites within the Duginist network. See DiResta, 2018.

    [30] See Laruelle, M, Ed. 2015. Eurasianism and the European Far Right: Reshaping the Europe-Russia Relationship. NYC: Lexington Books

    [31] Laruelle, M. 2006. Aleksandr Dugin: A Russian Version of the European Radical Right? Washington, DC: Kennan Institute; Bar-On, Tamir. 2013. Rethinking the French New Right. New York: Routledge.

    [32] Bar-On, T. 2007. Where Have All the Fascists Gone? New York: Routledge; Bassin, M. 2016. The Gumilev Mystique: Biopolitics, Eurasianism, and the Construction of Community in Modern Russia. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.

    [33] Dugin, A. 1999. Основы Геополитикии (Foundations of Geopolitics). Found online at ratnikjournal.narod.ru.

    [34] Ibid, 274.

    [35] Clover, C. 2016. Black Wind, White Snow: The Rise of Russia’s New Nationalism. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.

    [36] Wilson, A. 2005. Virtual Politics: Faking Democracy in the Post-Soviet World. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.

    [37] Savino, G. 2015. From Evola to Dugin. In Laruelle 2015, 108.

    [38] Gramigna, A.d., Chi Sono I “Fascisti Trosa Che Gridano ‘Forza Iraq.’”

    [39] Michael, G. 2019. “Useful Idiots or Fellow Travelers? The Relationship between the American Far Right and Russia.” Terrorism and Political Violence, 31, 64-83; Clover, 271-272, 286-287; Laruelle, M.. 2016. “The Izborsky Club, or the New Conservative Avant-Garde in Russia.” The Russian Review, 75, 626—44. See also M. Lyons, “Moscow conference draws fascists, neo-Confederates, U.S. leftists,” ThreeWayFight, February 2, 2015.

    [40] Campo Antimperialista spokesperson Pasquinelli notably declared, “Fascism and the fascists are our main enemy today? Absolutely not. It really seems pleonastic to me to have to explain on a list of anti-Americanists and anti-imperialists who is the main enemy today. This means maybe be indulgent towards the fascists? Of course not. The fascists are all contained in Forza Nuova positions? Absolutely not. It’s in this area a great ferment, a heated discussion not only political, but theoretical. Should we follow this discussion carefully? Or we’ll piss over it? I think we have to follow it.” Cernigoi, C., “’Rossobruni’ e nuova destra ‘internazionalista,’” I Falsi Amici conference, December 7, 2013; Cernigoi, C., “Comunitaristi e Nazi-Maoisti,” Nuova Alabarda, February 2007.

    [41] March, L. 2011. “Is Nationalism Rising in Russian Foreign Policy? The Case of Georgia.” Demokratizatsiya, 19(3), 187-207.

    [42] “Putin Aide Says New Ukraine Leader Could Populate War-Torn Region with Jews,” Moscow Times, May 7, 2019.

    [43] Fridman, O. 2018. Russian ‘Hybrid Warfare’: Resurgence and Politicization. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 75-84.

    [44] Starbird, Arif, & Wilson, 2018.

    [45] Horbyk, R. 2015. “Little Patriotic War: Nationalist Narratives in the Russian Media Coverage of the Ukraine-Russia Crisis.” Asian Politics & Policy, 7(3), pp. 505-511

    [46] Yablokov, I. 2015. “Conspiracy Theories as a Russian Public Diplomacy Tool: The Case of Russia Today (RT).” Politics, 35(3-4), 305-315.

    [47] See Shekhovtsov, 2018; Ross, A.R. “The Anti-Semitism Conference Where Russian Spies, Code Pink, David Duke and The Nation of Islam Make Friends and Influence People.” Haaretz, March 14, 2019.

    [48] Bromley, R. 2018. “The Politics of Displacement: The Far Right Narrative of Europe and Its ’Others.’” From the European South 3, 13-26.

    [49] Ross, A.R. 2017. Against the Fascist Creep. Oakland, CA: AK Press.

    [50] Parker, N., J. Landay, J. Walcott. “Putin-Linked Think Tank Drew Up Plan to Sway 2016 US Election—Documents.” Reuters, April 19, 2017. Oscar Jonnson calls Korybko a member of the expert council at RISS in 2019. The Russian Understanding of War: Blurring the Lines between War and Peace. Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press.

    [51] A Bellingcat Contributor, “Russia Tries to Influence Le Pen to Repeal Sanctions,” Bellingcat April 29, 2019.

    [52] Yablokov, 301

    [53] Ibid, 305-306.

    [54] Godzimirski, J.M., M Østevik. 2018. How to Understand and Deal with Russian Strategic Communication Measures? Policy Brief. Oslo: Norweigen Institute of International Affairs.

    [55] Horbyk, 2015.

    [56] Jainter, M., P.A. Mattsson. 2015. “Russian Information Warfare of 2014.” 7th International Conference on Cyber Conflict: Architectures in Cyberspace, 39-52.

    [57] Davis, C. “‘Grassroots’ Media Startup Redfish is Supported by the Kremlin,” The Daily Beast, June 19, 2018.

    [58] Ballacher, J.D., V. Barash, P.N. Howard, J. Kelly. “Junk News on Military Affairs and National Security: Social Media Disinformation Campaigns Against US Military Personnel and Veterans.” COMPROP Data Memo, 09 October 2017.

    [59] Schreckinger, B. “How Russia Targets the US Military,” Politico, June 27, 2017.

    [60] Starbird et al., 2017.

    [61] Shekhovtsov, 2018.

    [62] Lough, J., O. Lutsevych, P. Pomerantsev, S. Secrieru, A. Shekhovtsov. 2014. “Russian Influence Abroad: Non-state Actors and Propaganda.” Russia and Eurasia Programme Meeting Summary. Chatham House: The Royal Institute of International Affairs.

    [63] Bevensee and Ross, 2018; Grant Stern and Patrick Simpson have done great work researching Lozansky’s past at the blog, The Stern Facts.

    [64] US-Russia.org, “Think-Tank & American University.” The site was changed to conceal the names of the associates some time in 2018; McAdams’s Twitter profile can be seen by Google searching his full bio: “Executive Director, Ron Paul Institute for Peace and Prosperity. Hypocrisy hunter. Traditionalist. Tweets are mine alone and often rude.”

    [65] Young, C. “Putin’s New American Fan Club?” The Daily Beast, October 11, 2015. Michel, C. “Why Is This Russia ‘Expert’ Writing for an Anti-Semitic Outlet?ThinkProgress, February 16, 2018. Doctorow left the ACEWA in March 2017 after around two and a half years with the group he co-founded.

    [66] Michel, C. “How Putin Played the Far Left,” The Daily Beast, April 11, 2017.

    [67] Laruelle, 2016.

    [68] G. Doctorow, “Book Review: Alain de Benoist, ‘Contre Liberalisme. La société n’est pas un marché,’” GilbertDoctorow.com, May 14, 2019.

    [69] @ConsortiumNews, Twitter, January 11, 2019, 12:48PM, accessed June 10, 2019, https://twitter.com/consortiumnews/status/1083812955861540864.

    [70] Di Giovanni, Janine, “Why Assad and Russia Target the White Helmets,” New York Review of Books, October 16, 2018; Hasan, H. “’Fake News’: The Mainstreaming of Syria Conspiracy Theories,” Middle East Monitor, April 21, 2018; Lucas, S. “Who Are the White Helmets and Why Are They So Controversial?” The Conversation, October 7, 2016; Proyect, L. “Max Blumenthal and the Streisand Effect,” New Politics, March 14, 2018.

    [71] See DiResta et al., 2018, 97-8.

    [72] Lester, C. “The CIA Spy Who Became a Russian Propagandist,” The New Republic, May 14, 2018.

    [73] For more, including links, see Vagabond, “An Investigation into Red-Brown Alliances: Third Positionism, Russia, Ukraine, Syria, and the Western Left,” Ravings of a Radical Vagabond, January 15, 2018, also see Ross, A.R., “The Left and Right through Russian Political and Information Operations,” AlexanderReidRoss.net, November 19, 2018.

    [74] Flock, E. “After a Week of Russian Propaganda, I Was Questioning Everything,” PBS.org, May 2, 2018; Vázquez-Liñán, M. 2019. “The Political Discourse of the Kremlin in Spain: Channels, Messages, and Interpretive Frameworks,” in T. Hoffmann, A. Makarychev, eds., Russia and the EU: Spaces of Interaction, New York: Routledge.

    [75] The model was run on January 17, 2018, available at http://alexa.com.

    [76] See Appendix 1; Analysis processed on December 27, 2017

    [77] Starbird et al., 2017.

    [78] Ibid, 9.

    [79] DiResta et al., 2018.

    [80] Diresta, R., Grossman, S. 2019. Potempkin Pages and Personas: Assessing GRU Online Operations, 2014-2019. Stanford: Stanford Internet Observatory Cyber Policy Center.

    [81] Bobbio, N. 1994. Left and Right: The Significance of a Political Distinction, Trans, A. Cameron. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

    [82] Mueller, R.S. 2019. Report on the Investigation into Russian Interference in the 2016 Presidential Election. Washington, DC: US Department of Justice.

    [83]McCarthyite,” Google Trends, Past 5 years, last searched on June 18, 2019.

    [84] Satter, R., D.; Butler, “Charges Undermine Assange Denials About Hack Origins,” AP, July 1, 2018; Mueller, 2018.

    [85] The Editors, “Against Neo-McCarthyism,” The Nation, July 27, 2016,

    [86]McCarthyite” and “McCarthyism,” Google Trends, Past 5 years, last searched on June 18, 2019.

    [87] Graham, D.A., “Trump’s Call for Russian Hacking Makes Even Less Sense after Mueller,” The Atlantic, March 27, 2019.

    [88] Transcript here: Hains, T., “Russia Expert Stephen Cohen: Trump Wants to Stop the New Cold War, but the American Media Just Doesn’t Understand,” RealClearPolitics, July 30, 2016.

    [89] Heuvel, K.v. “Democrats, Stay Out of Trump’s Gutter,” Washington Post, August 2, 2016,

    [90] Cohen, S.F. “Cold War, Détente, Neo-McCarthyism, and Donald Trump,” The Nation, August 3, 2016.

    [91] Johnson, A., “Trump’s Bigotry Reminds US Media of Anywhere but Home,” FAIR, July 29, 2016.

    [92] Bay, A., “Tailgunner Hillary and the Putin Hack,” Observer, July 28, 2016.

    [93]Greenwald: I Came to Russia to Combat Toxic View on the Country,” RT.com, July 6, 2018.

    [94] Agarwal, N., Al-khateeb, R. Galeano, R. Goolsby. 2017. “Examining the Use of Botnets and their Evolution in Propaganda Dissemination.” Defence Strategic Communications, NATO Strategic Communications Centre of Excellence, 2. 90-91; Starbird et al., 2018.

    [95] Raimondo, J., “To Fight Trump, Journalists Have Dispensed With Objectivity,” LA Times, August 2, 2016.

    [96] Unz is worth explicating for a moment, and not only for its impressive 163,703 average unique visitors per month in 2017. Developed by former editor of American Conservative, Ron Unz, after he controversially attacked Ivy League schools with claims that they prejudicially favor Jews, The Unz Review is a favorite of academic anti-Semite Kevin MacDonald and fascist David Duke. Unz also plays host to a regular blog from Steve Sailer, a well-known figure on the far right. Aside from these clear right-wing affinities, Unz has helped finance left-wing anti-Zionist publications like Mondoweiss and CounterPunch. The Unz Review’s top audience cross-overs include white nationalist sites VDare, Taki’s Mag, and American Renaissance, as well as Consortium News, The Saker, and Antiwar.com. Although his Antiwar.com displays such audience overlap, however, it is important to note that Raimondo himself does not have a byline or feature in the horizontal network of sites represented in Lozansky’s think tank.

    [97] Mueller, 2018.

    [98]Hillary Ally Accuses Green Party’s Jill Stein of Being Trump-like Russian Agent,” Sputnik News, August 8, 2016, ; “Voting for Anyone but Clinton Means You’re Obviously a ‘Russian Agent,’” Sputnik News, August 10, 2016.

    [99] Parry, R., “New York Times and the New McCarthyism,” Consortium News, September 7, 2016.

    [100] Larson, E., “Roger Stone Timeline Puts Trump’s Wikileaks Ties in Focus,” Bloomberg News, January 25, 2019.

    [101] See Panetta, G., “The Mueller Report Is Here—Here Are All the Known Contacts Between the Campaign and Russian Government-Linked People or Entities,” Business Insider, April 18, 2019.

    [102]Russian Propaganda Meddling in US Election: RT Charge Clinton Campaign With McCarthyism,” Euromaidan Press, August 18, 2016.

    [103]Nooscope: Media Concocts Conspiracy Theory About Putin’s New Mind Melting Weapon,” Sputnik News, August 22, 2016; Goodman, H.A., “Who Cares If Russia Leaks Clinton’s Emails? 5 DNC Officials Resigned For Cheating Bernie Sanders,” Huffington Post, August 22, 2016.

    [104] Assange: Clinton Campaign is Full of ‘Disturbing’ Anti-Russia ‘Hysteria,’” Sputnik News, August 26, 2016.

    [105] Raimondo, J., “The Campaign to Blame Putin for Everything,” Antiwar.com, August 31, 2016.

    [106] Greenwald, G., A. Goodman, “A New McCarthyism: Greenwald on Clinton Camp’s Attempts to Link Trump, Stein & WikiLeaks to Russia,” Democracy Now, August 31, 2016.

    [107] Takala, R., “Assange: US Media Is ‘Erecting a Demon’ By Supporting Clinton,” Washington Examiner, August 31, 2016.

    [108] Mueller Report, 46.

    [109] Sainato, M., “Clinton Never Does Anything Wrong, So Why Does She Lie So Much,” Observer, September 1, 2016; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UCajV4tUguM

    [110] McCarthyism of the Left? Clinton Supporters Use Anti-Russia Rhetoric to Bash Opponents,” RT.com, September 3, 2016.

    [111] Pollak, J.B., “Hillary Clinton’s Absurd McCarthyist Russian Conspiracy Theory,” Breitbart, September 6, 2016; Parry, R., op. cit.

    [112] McAdams, D., Twitter, September 26, 2016.

    [113] Sterling, R., “Ten Problems with Anti-Russian Obsession,” Consortium News, July 9, 2017; Whitney, M., “Seth Rich, Craig Murray and the Sinister Stewards of the National Security State,” Ron Paul Institute, May 20, 2017; Schneider, A., “Appeals Court Reinstates Lawsuit Against Fox News Over Seth Rich Story,” NPR, September 13, 2019.

    [114] Clemons, S., D. Balz, “Clinton Holds Lead Over Trump in New Poll, But Warning Signs Emerge,” Washington Post, September 10, 2016.

    [115] Greenfield, J., “How Hillary’s Very Bad September Could Be Very Good for Her in November,” Politico, September 30, 2016.

    [116] CNN/ORC Poll 14, September 26, 2016, https://i2.cdn.turner.com/cnn/2016/images/09/27/poll.pdf; Agiesta, J. “Hillary Clinton Wins Third Presidential Debate, According to CNN / ORC Poll,” CNN, October 20, 2016; Agiesta, J, “Post-Debate Poll: Hillary Clinton Wins Round One,” CNN, September 27, 2016.

    [117] Enten, H., “How Much Did WikiLeaks Hurt Hillary Clinton,” FiveThirtyEight, December 23, 2016; Kennedy, C., M. Blumenthal, S. Clement, J.D. Clinton, C. Durand, C. Franklin, K. McGeeney, L. Miringoff, K. Olson, D. Rivers, L. Saad, E. Witt, C. Wlezien, An Evaluation of 2016 Election Polls in the US, American Association for Public Opinion Research, May 4, 2017.

    [118] New Knowledge, 2018; Mueller, 2019.

    [119] Haiphong, D., “Hillary Clinton’s Neo-McCarthyism and the Real Father of ‘Extreme Nationalism,’” Black Agenda Report, September 21, 2016. It is also interesting to note that Black Agenda Report writer Margaret Kimberly is also close to the Workers World Party and its front groups, having joined a delegation to the Anti-Globalization Movement of Russia.

    [120]When Hillary Clinton Gets Scared She Plays the Russia Card,” Sputnik, September 28, 2016.

    [121] Michel, 2017.

    [122] Ioffe, J., “The Real Story of Donald Trump, Jr.,” GQ.com, June 21, 2018.

    [123] Jackson, H., P. Helsel, J. Meyer, M. Alba. “Roger Stone Calls Claims of WikiLeaks Collusion ‘Categorically False,’” NBC News, October 12, 2016.

    [124] Hsu, S.S., Weiner, R., Zapotosky, M. “Roger Stone guilty on all counts of lying to Congress, witness tampering,” Washington Post, November 15, 2019.

    [125] Horvat, S., “The Cyber-War on WikiLeaks,” CounterPunch, October 18, 2016; Moran, B., “I Am Vladimir Putin: The First Victim of McCarthyism 2.0,” RT.com, October 18, 2016.

    [126] Stone, R., “Stone: Wikileaks, Mike Morell, Russia, and Me,” Breitbart, October 19, 2016.

    [127] Parry, R., “The Democrats’ Joe McCarthy Moment,” Consortium News, October 19, 2016,. Norton, B., Twitter, October 19, 2016, https://twitter.com/BenjaminNorton/status/788915185016836096. Norton was a part of the left-wing GrayZoneProject, whose founder, Max Blumenthal, would later call “Russiagate” a “vicious backlash… against Trump’s moves toward detente.” A regular guest on Russian media, Blumenthal had attended the December 2015 anniversary gala for RT along with Jill Stein, conspiracy theorist Ray McGovern, and Mike Flynn, and followed the Kremlin’s line regarding the Syria Civil Defense (also known as the White Helmets), conflict in Ukraine, and other geopolitical issues. GrayZoneProject’s work on the White Helmets was significant enough to assist AlterNet in featuring prominently in Starbird et al., 2018. See Giovanni, J.D., “Why Assad and Russia Target the White Helmets,” New York Review of Books, October 16, 2018.

    [128]Clinton Using Anti-Russia Red-Baiting Not Seen Since Days of McCarthyism,” RT.com, October 23, 2016; Doctorow, G., “Questioning the Russia-Gate ‘Motive,’” Consortium News, December 18, 2017.

    [129] Raimondo, J., “Anti-Russian Hysteria and the Political Elites,” AntiWar.com, October 2, 2016; Brenner, M., “American Foreign Policy in the Post-Trump Era,” CounterPunch, October 28, 2016.

    [130] Schindler, J.R., “McCarthyism 2.0 Has Infected the Democrats,” Observer, November 1, 2016; “Washington Fails to Prove Russia Interfered in US Elections in ‘Big Way,” Sputnik News, November 2, 2016.

    [131] Weiss, P., “Media Reports that Russians Are Behind Email Leaks Are Official Stenography—Carden,” MondoWeiss, November 5, 2016; Barrett, P., D. Kumar, “The Art of Spin,” Jacobin, November 7, 2016.

    [132] Kurtzleben, D., “Here’s How Many Bernie Sanders Supporters Ultimately Voted for Trump,” NPR.org, August 24, 2017,

    [133] For instance, the calls of Stephen F. Cohen of The Nation and the ACEWA, for a “multipolar world” were published in Sputnik News. See “Washington’s Refusal to Embrace Multi-Polar World is an Obstacle to Peace,” December 5, 2019,.

    [134] Regarding Venezuela, in an article co-written with RT host Dan Cohen, GrayZone founder Max Blumenthal cited GlobalResearch writer William Engdahl’s conspiracy theories about the “oily hands” of George Soros pertaining to Serbian pro-democracy group Otpor, see Cohen, D. and Blumenthal, M. “The Making of Juan Guaido: How the US Regime Change Laboratory Created Venezuela’s Coup Leader,” GrayZoneProject, January 29, 2019. Blumenthal also attempted to tie Engdahl’s idea of Otpor to Hong Kong protestors, see @MaxBlumenthal, Twitter, August 12, 2019, 10:00PM, Accessed January 6, 2020, https://twitter.com/MaxBlumenthal/status/1161140387769200640. Regarding Xinjiang, GrayZone authors repeatedly attempted to downplay reports of mass detention centers and discredit investigations into them, see L. Proyect, “A Reply to Ben Norton and Ajit Singh’s Hatchet Job on the Uyghers,” Louis Proyect: The Unrepentant Marxist, December 15, 2018; see also @JimMillward, Twitter, January 3, 2020, 12:45PM, Accessed January 6, 2020, https://twitter.com/JimMillward/status/1213199645079416835. Regarding Syria, GrayZone authors have promoted a number of discredited reports, including attacking the White Helmets as an Al Qaeda front group, see Hamad, S.C., Katerji, O. “Did a Kremlin Pilgrimage Cause Alternet Blogger’s Damascene Conversion?Pulse, August 22, 2017.

    [135] C. Ecarma, “Tucker Carlson Stunned When Guest Says ‘No Evidence’ Russia Hacked DNC,” Mediate, December 4, 2019.

    [136] @conspirador0, Twitter, December 19, 2019, 3:03PM, Accessed January 6, 2020, https://twitter.com/conspirator0/status/1207798734102220800.

    [137] Baumgartner, J. PushShift.io, search conducted January 10, 2020.

  • Robert Topinka — “Back to a Past that Was Futuristic”: The Alt-Right and the Uncanny Form of Racism

    Robert Topinka — “Back to a Past that Was Futuristic”: The Alt-Right and the Uncanny Form of Racism

    Robert Topinka

    This essay has been peer-reviewed by “The New Extremism” special issue editors (Adrienne Massanari and David Golumbia), and the b2o: An Online Journal editorial board.

    There are reduced expectations for the younger generation, and this is the first time this has happened in American history. Even if there are aspects of Trump that are retro and that seem to be going back to the past, I think a lot of people want to go back to a past that was futuristic—The Jetsons, Star Trek. They’re dated but futuristic.

    —Peter Thiel, quoted in Dowd (2017)

    In the scramble to explain Donald Trump’s victory in the 2016 presidential election, then-campaign chief executive Stephen K. Bannon’s claim to a Mother Jones reporter that Breitbart under his editorship was a “platform for the alt-right” (Posner 2016) generated widespread attention in mainstream media publications.[1] A rash of alt-right “explainers” appeared that attempted to familiarize the uninitiated with this so-called movement by outlining the obscure intellectual roots of the alt-right’s seemingly inscrutable meme-driven cultural politics. This paper begins from the premise that the alt-right is not a movement but a reactionary ideology, a “bursting forth of anti-PC cultural politics,” better understood as an ideological “milieu” rather than a movement (Nagle 2017, 19 & 18). Through an analysis of alt-right meme practice and neoreactionary theory, I will show in what follows that the intellectual innovation of the alt-right and its neoreactionary co-travelers is to attach white identity politics to a critique of modernity that turns postcolonialism on its head. Where the latter attacks racism for compromising the democratic promise, the former attacks democracy for compromising the white race’s promise, which is to accelerate capitalism to the lost Hobbesian future of the CEO-King, a vision implied in Peter Thiel’s words quoted in the epigraph to this article. Neoreactionaries have resurrected nineteenth-century notions of racial degenerationism and race as civilizational index, sutured them to techno-futurism, and deployed this monstrous racist hybrid in the form of what look on the surface like left and postcolonial critiques of modernity. The components of this thinking are familiar, but this precise combination is novel. The intellectual and aesthetic practice of the alt-right can thus be described as uncanny: strange but entirely familiar, a return in the present of a repressed past. In short, the alt-right’s newness is a symptom of its oldness.

    This argument draws on Corey Robin’s (2013) analysis of two key features of reactionary ideology, which, Robin argues, seeks to restore a lost past to a fallen present, and does so precisely by attacking the present on its own terms. This reactionary war against contemporary culture therefore tends to assume the aesthetic form of this culture—an immanent critique from the right that attacks the present culture to restore a past it has lost. Adopting Robin’s framework, I examine the attack on the present in the form of alt-right meme culture and the neoreactionary proposal for restoring a lost past.

    Neoreactionaries have a name for the structure of the fallen present: the “Cathedral,” the term Curtis Yarvin (writing as the blogger Mencius Moldbug) coined to describe the academics and mainstream journalists who preach the official “faith” of political correctness (2008a). The notion bears resemblance to the “propaganda model” (Herman and Chomsky 1988) of mass media, but instead of mainstream media and academia colluding with capital, they are preventing its flourishing. In its broad contours if not in its politics, this “Cathedral” critique resonates with left critiques of identity politics and diversity discourse, both of which are central to what Jodi Dean calls “communicative capitalism,” or the form of capitalism that captures resistance by materializing practices of agency, participation, and diversity in communication technologies (Dean 2002, 2009). Left academics therefore find themselves united with corporate capital around “enthusiasm for diversity, multiplicity, and the agency of consumers” (Dean 2009, 9), a state of affairs that has led many on the left to call for a rejection of identity politics. Hence Nagle, in her important if controversial work on the emerging reactionary ideologies, argues that the alt-right opposes “the new identity politics” of liberal online spaces like the social blogging network Tumblr that normalize “anti-male, anti-white, anti-straight, anti-cis rhetoric” on the “cultural left” (Nagle 2017, 68).

    I want to suggest here, though, that whatever the merits of identity politics as a scholarly approach or political strategy might be, the alt-right critique of identity politics is only the first reactionary gesture—the immanent critique of the present. The second move—the restoration of the lost past—does far more than violate the terms of diversity discourse; it seeks to install race as an interface that gathers humans in a global frame and sorts them hierarchically. Mobilizing memes as the aesthetic form of reaction, the alt-right popularizes this racial interface. Richard Spencer’s slogan—“race is real, race matters, race is the foundation of identity” (Caldwell 2016)—seeks to formalize racism as a political strategy, appropriating diversity discourse to claim white nationalism as a protected identity formation. Racist exclusion is the fulcrum of the proposed political order.

    The uncanny is a useful figure for analyzing the reactionary attempt to restore a lost past. This formal racism is uncanny in the strict sense Freud (1919) defines the term: the appearance of “something long familiar” that was estranged “only through being repressed” (148).  The appearance of this estranged object motivates ideological attempts to “integrate the uncanny” and “assign it a place” in a fallen present (Dolar 1991, 19). By focusing on the alt-right’s immanent critique of identity politics, we allow the alt-right to direct us to the “place” in the fallen present that needs critiquing, all the while missing the lost past that the alt-right seeks to restore. As a figure of encounter with the present, the uncanny directs us to the formal practice of assigning a place.

    I begin with the first reactionary gesture—immanent critique—by examining the meme as a formal manifestation of what Dean calls communicative capitalism, and therefore as an entirely familiar form, even if the content of alt-right memes is bizarre. I then turn to the second reactionary gesture—the restoration of the lost past—by turning to the intellectual roots of the alt-right, focusing on Bannon’s summer of 2014 speech at a Vatican conference and its resonance with the neoreactionary thinkers Mencius Moldbug and Nick Land, whose form of uncanny racism I will describe. The connection extends beyond shared sympathy: Yarvin’s start-up counts the Trump-supporting Thiel as an investor (Pein 2014), and Yarvin reportedly communicated through an intermediary with Bannon while the latter was still Trump’s Chief of Staff (Johnson and Stokols 2017). I conclude by suggesting how attention to ideological form makes it possible to critique reactionary ideology without replicating the first reactionary gesture and arriving at the same place of critique that reactionary ideology selects, a danger that haunts any attempt to contextualize reaction.

    First, a brief note on terminology: the alt-right is a contested term, but is best understood as a shorthand for anti-politically correct reactionary ideology that developed its meme aesthetic in message boards, particularly 4chan (see Nagle 2017, 12 & 19). Neoreactionary thinking is a specific intellectual tradition that influences many alt-right adherents. This paper does not seek to define the alt-right, and indeed such definitional questions tend to impose a misreading of the alt-right as a coherent movement rather than a reactionary ideology. Nor does this paper deny the existence of extreme right organization (Berlet and Lyons 2000; Berlet 2004); rather, it seeks to analyze the “metapolitics” (Lyons 2017) of an ideological “fascist creep” (Ross 2017).

    Memes and the Allegorical Interface

    After Trump’s 2016 victory, alt-right partisans began claiming the election as a turning point in a meme war that most mainstream audiences nevertheless knew little about until mainstream journalists began publishing “explainers” on the subject.  A journalistic genre of recent vintage, the “explainer” responds to the perpetual news and commentary stream by expanding the nut graph into a contextual framework for understanding complex or obscure issues, stories or trends, allowing those who find themselves “out of the loop” to “grasp the whole” of the story (Rosen 2008). The alt-right, with its cornucopia of obscure memes and references—from the mystical “meme magic” of the pseudo-religious Cult of Kek (more on this below) to the infamous Pepe the Frog to racist approximation of African American Vernacular English of “dindu nuffin”—would seem to demand the explainer treatment, particularly for those who discovered the alt-right only after Trump’s hiring of Bannon brought the alt-right to mainstream attention. As I show below, mainstream explainers tend to attempt to uncover the ostensibly obscure symbolism of alt-right memes.

    Before turning to the explainers, though, it is necessary to attend to the meme and its function in reactionary ideology. The critical impulse is to reveal that which ideology conceals, but the alt-right does not conceal its racism; there is no cover (Topinka 2018). Instead, there is an attempt to repurpose the form of communicative capitalism to critique the present. As a form, the meme is ideally suited to such a task. The meme form encourages inclusion, participation, and bricolage—all the tools once associated with emancipatory politics and now absorbed into communicative capitalism. In this sense, the meme offers a perfect reactionary tool: reappropriative in its form, it reacts against the present by repurposing it.

    Indeed, the meme is a privileged form of communicative capitalism; it is an allegory of exchange, where culture exits only to be repurposed, and where the symbolic submits to circulation. Although their content may appear obscure, the form of alt-right memes is entirely familiar; in this sense, they are uncanny allegories of communicative capitalism.  Building on and contesting the media formalism of Lev Manovich and the hard media determinism of Friedrich Kittler, Alexander Galloway’s (2012) recent work on control allegories argues that media cannot be reduced to their technical predicates—storing, transmitting, and processing—or understood as “objects” bearing a set of formal characteristics that afford certain determinant effects. Galloway (2012) proposes the notion of the “interface” to examine media as forms that inaugurate sets of practices. Mediation is therefore a “process-object” (46), a space of flow, transformation, and transition where the “inside” of technical media encounters the “outside” of the social world. This encounter between technical media and social technique is, for Galloway, an allegory of how contemporary power works: technical apparatuses tend to encourage sets of practices that produce a flexible, modular, and endlessly transformable form of power.

    A technical apparatus might encourage a reactionary response as well. Consider Urbit, the “personal sever” created by Curtis Yarvin, also known as Moldbug, the neoreactionary blogger. The Urbit interface inserts an “opaque layer” between the user and the combination of cloud services users rely on (Wolfe-Pauly 2017). Rather than outsourcing computing to cloud services, Urbit offers general purpose personal server that “holds your data; runs your apps; wrangles your connected devices; and defines your secure identity” (Wolfe-Pauley 2017). Urbit seeks to reclaim the sovereignty that Benjamin Bratton (2016) argues has been vested in “the Stack” of computing and cloud services (particularly Facebook, Google, and Amazon) that now comprise planetary-scale computation. As creators Galen Wolfe-Pauly and Yarvin suggest, Urbit restores digital independence and reclaims sovereignty by returning to users exclusive control over their data. Instead of more participatory culture—“toiling on Mark Zuckerberg’s content farm” (Yarvin, quoted in Lecher 2017)—Urbit offers what neoreactionaries call “exit.” It is software as an allegory for the neoreactionary age.

    The meme form relies on participation from users competent in digital remixing. To meme is to participate through reappropriation. Scholars have tended to read this participatory reappropriation as democratizing and politically liberating (Coleman 2014)—even, at times, when meme practice becomes explicitly racist (Phillips 2015, 97).[2] Yet moving too quickly from technique to politics risks misunderstanding both. Amidst the recent attention in mainstream culture given to memes forged on the website 4chan’s message boards, it is also tempting to claim that “4chan invented the meme as we use it today” (Beran 2017). However, the meme form emerges from message board formats rather than any particular community. Börzsei (2013) thus traces the meme’s genealogy to Usenet, where meme use signals familiarity with message board discourse and offers a means of performing digital competence. Memes emerge from a constellation of interfaces—photo editors, image hosting sites, meme generators for image macro memes, and message boards—that encourage exchange, appropriation, and repurposing. As such, the meme is an allegory for communicative capitalism, which does not capture each instance of resistance through cultural reappropriation so much as engulf resistance in its very form.

    Memes function through deixis: they signal location in a culture, relying on in-group agreement for understanding.  The meme operates through the digital media aesthetics of the “stream” (Lovink 2016), where the signaling of links in circulatory networks replaces symbolic representation. This accounts for the uncanny familiarity of alt-right memes, since their obscurity requires laborious explanation to “understand;” that is, of course, unless one already knows the references. But the obscurity to outsiders is a basic function of the meme form itself. Consider the “Most Interesting Man in the World” meme, an example of the image macro, which in turn provides the basic grammar for the meme: an image, typically drawn from popular culture, is overlaid with text, which itself typically references popular culture or tropes from internet culture (the image might be also be drawn from a viral video, but, as Shiffman (2011) argues, something that “goes viral” does not become a meme unless it becomes the subject of imitation and transformation).

    most interesting man internet explorer meme

    This meme imitates the performed cultural sophistication of the “most interesting man” but transforms it to apply to internet culture, where no geek would be caught using Internet Explorer. Even such a banal meme as this requires some familiarity with a range of cultural discourses and figures: the “Silver Fox,” the Latin lover, and geek culture. This meme is as strange as any alt-right meme, and equally void of symbolism. It is a tethering of cultural domains, the formal manifestation of the reappropriation that dominates internet culture and communicative capitalism. By ignoring the meme form, the explainers approach the alt-right as inscrutable, when in fact the alt-right practices a vernacular aesthetic form. To be sure, alt-right memes rely on a relatively esoteric referential repertoire, but the form in which this repertoire appears—the meme, an allegorical form of communicative capitalism—is entirely familiar.

    The Alt-Right Explainer

    Capitalizing on Breitbart’s connection to Trump through Bannon, Allum Bokhari and Milo Yiannopolous (2016) published “An Establishment Conservative’s Guide to the Alt-Right” on Breitbart, an article that helped establish the generic conventions for the alt-right explainer: ride the momentum of the tenuous links between the alt-right and Donald Trump, identify the intellectual base (including neoreactionaries, especially Moldbug), point up the contrast with two of the main wings of mainstream American conservatism (anti-globalization, anti-theocracy), and demystify “meme magic” by explaining what memes—especially Pepe the Frog—mean. Similar explainers soon echoed in the nave of the “Cathedral.” The Daily Wire, the Weekly Standard, the National Review, Vox, and The New York Times published explainers following Breitbart’s pattern, as did the neo-Nazi Daily Stormer. Citing the left’s purported culture war victory, the Weekly Standard claims that the alt-right’s racism is merely a rhetorical response to the “left’s moralism” (Welton 2015), and the New York Times explainer (an op-ed by Christopher Caldwell, a senior editor at the Weekly Standard) emphasizes that alt-right racism is partly a result of the undue expansion of what it means to be “racist” (Caldwell 2016), an expansion Caldwell redresses by carefully distinguishing malignant white supremacists from the purportedly more benign white nationalists. In the face of such prevarication, the Daily Stormer’s “Normies’ guide to the alt-right” makes for bracing reading (Anglin 2016). Although it follows the generic conventions Breitbart established, it rejects the latter as a latecomer, claims racism as the fundamental fulcrum of alt-right ideology, and calls racist trolling a form of “culture-jamming” directed against so-called “normie” culture (Anglin 2016). The Daily Stormer, unfortunately, sees things more clearly than the “Cathedral” on this score. This racist trolling takes form in the meme, which becomes a mechanism of ideological assault and community-building.  

    Hillary Clinton’s campaign famously responded to one such meme—shared most prominently by Donald Trump, Jr. and Roger Stone—that featured a photoshopped film poster for The Expendables, retitled as “The Deplorables,” with the original actors’ heads replaced with a number of prominent Trump supporters during the 2016 presidential campaign: Roger Stone, Ben Carson, Chris Christie, Eric Trump, Mike Pence, Rudy Giuliani, Donald Trump, Jr., Alex Jones, and Milo Yiannopolous. Trump is the central figure in the image. Hovering over his left soldier, Pepe the Frog looks smugly on, his red-blond hair coiffed in Trump’s signature style (Chan 2016). The photoshopping is clumsy, and the film referenced is archetypical Hollywood mediocrity, but to explain this meme is to marvel at the range of discourses it summons: from the visual and textual pun on The Expendables—which is in turn a play on Clinton’s dismissal of Trump supporters as belonging in the “basket of deplorables”—to the visual enrollment in Trump’s campaign of Pepe the Frog himself, whose bizarre internet career has by now been thoroughly chronicled.[3] The meme sutures a complex intertextual tissue, with each reference signaled on the aesthetic surface of the meme.

    The explainer genre encourages a “hermeneutics of suspicion” (Ricoeur 1970) that seeks to wrest some underlying meaning from the meme. The Clinton campaign formalizes its explainer of this meme as a question-and-answer session between the innocent and the knowing: “Who is that frog standing directly behind Trump? / That’s Pepe. He’s a symbol associated with white supremacy.  / Wait. Really? White supremacy?” (Chan 2016). The dialogue falls into the trap of attempting to demystify Pepe. The Clinton campaign approaches the meme with a surface-depth aesthetic model, asking what the meme symbolizes, and this representational reading misrecognizes the meme form. As a result, the explainers fail to reckon with the uncanny familiarity of these ostensibly obscure aesthetic forms. As is often the case in critical theory, the explainer positions the audience as the innocent questioner in the Clinton campaign’s explainer—What? Really? A white supremacist frog? The alt-right is truly esoteric! Hence the headline of the New York Times explainer: “What the Alt-Right Really Means” (Caldwell 2016). Or the Vox headline for its explainer: “The Alt-Right Is Way More Than Warmed-Over White Supremacy. It’s That, but Way Way Weirder” (Matthews 2016). Or from the Huffington Post: “My Journey to the Center of the Alt-right” (O’Brien 2016). These headlines suggest that the alt-right’s racist ideology is obscure (even though it has always been a feature of American politics) and that its aesthetic practices are inscrutable (even though the meme is a primary aesthetic form of participatory media). Thus the Weekly Standard blames the alt-right on the “left’s moralism” and the New York Times diagnoses the undue expansion of the meaning of “racist” as the cause of the alt-right’s reactionary politics. By failing to reckon with aesthetics of the meme form, these “explainers” unwittingly redeem “meme magic” and its racist politics as something obscure and inscrutable rather than familiar and intractable.

    As an allegorical form of communicative capitalism and the aesthetics of the “stream” (Lovink 2016), the meme operates by signaling links—including to racist subcultural formations—rather than by encoding symbolic representation. Updating for the digital age Richard Dawkins’s 1972 notion of memes as the genetic expression, selection, and variation of cultural units, Limor Shifman (2012) offers a rigorous definition of memes as “building blocks” of complex cultures that propagate quickly, reproducing through imitation and transformation (189). A form of Henry Jenkins’s “spreadable media” (Jenkins et al 2013), memes exist in circulation, transforming through “remixes” (Wiggins and Bowers 2015) that blend cultural domains and generate the meme’s circulatory momentum. This remixing and repurposing wrenches objects from their cultural domain, creating a new, thickly referential memetic context. The meme is thus a form that transforms in circulation. To “get” the meme, one has to recognize both the cultural domain the meme references and how the meme is dislocating that cultural domain. Although memes are thickly referential, with dizzyingly complex circulatory histories, they are not typically rich hermeneutic texts. They signal and enact cultural convergence, but they do not symbolize it. Hence the awkwardness of the “hermeneutics of suspicion” the Clinton campaign brings to Pepe. Those who use Pepe in white supremacist memes do not smuggle him in as a covert symbol. His appearance signals a trajectory of transformation in circulation, not a symbolic repertoire. The Clinton campaign is thus right to associate Pepe with white supremacy but wrong about the meme, which signals circulation without symbolizing.

    By “unmasking” political correctness as the true cause of racism, mainstream explainers follow the first reactionary gesture, repeating the contours of the reactionary immanent critique. In a widely shared Medium post, Dale Beran claims that Pepe, the “grotesque, frowning, sleepy eyed, out of shape, swamp dweller, peeing with his pants pulled down because-it-feels-good-man frog” represents in an ideology that “steers into the skid of its own patheticness. Pepe symbolizes embracing your loserdom, owning it” (Beran 2017). This attempt at a hermeneutics of Pepe ignores that the alt-right does not make memes out of the “feels good man” Pepe; the alt-right Pepe wears a smug smile, openly declaring his troll status. Such a pathos-laden reading of “steering into the skid” shares with Laurie Penny’s (2017) reading of Yiannopolous’s followers as duped “Lost Boys” a tendency to position the “loser” status of the geek (the archetypal perpetual virgin housed in his parents’ basement) as an alibi for misogyny and white nationalism. Indeed, Beran claims the left’s “radical idea of sexual-difference-as-illusion,” which is “meant to solve the deplorables’ problem” by “dispelling it as a cloud of pure ideas” is in fact an “Orwellian” declaration to “these powerless men” that “‘There’s no such thing as your problem!’” (Beran 2017). Beran’s critique here echoes Nagle’s criticism of the “anti-male, anti-white, anti-straight, anti-cis rhetoric” on the “cultural left” (Nagle 2017, 68). It is certainly possible to criticize such rhetoric, and reflexivity is surely a crucial political practice. But it is also notable that these critiques replicate the reactionary gesture: the left has won the culture war, diversity is ascendant, and the straight cisgender white male has lost his position—political correctness is everywhere run amok. The left therefore becomes the cause of the alt-right, and alt-right’s reactionary thinking becomes justified, if misguided. Indeed, these “Lost Boys,” dispossessed by the regime of political correctness, have also lost agency, and their hateful meme magic is a mere symptom of this fall. The critical impulse is to unmask the discourse by assigning it a context, but this is precisely its weakness in its approach to reactionary ideology. The alt-right’s blatantly racist discourse offers little to unmask. Its esoteric memes turn out to be banal cultural references. Unmasking its discourse tend to replicate the first reactionary gesture by arriving at the same place—the same cultural context—to be targeted for immanent critique.

    Reactionary Critical Theory

    I turn now to the second reactionary gesture—the restoration of the lost past. Alt-right and neoreactionary racism is uncanny—old and out of place, yet entirely familiar. Attending to the uncanny as a figure of ideology—an attempt to assign a place to that which is out of place—allows an approach to reactionary ideology that does not replicate the gesture of its immanent critique.

    Neoreactionary ideology tends to adopt the form and style of critical theory. Of course, neoreactionary thinker Nick Land was once a celebrated academic critical theorist, particularly in the UK, where he became something of a cult figure for his “dark Deleuzian” capitalist accelerationism and experimental theory-fiction, which he developed as part of the Cybernetic Culture Research Unit at the University of Warwick in the 1990s.[4] The infamous reactionary blogger Mencius Moldbug also offers a critical genealogy of modernity on his Unqualified Reservations blog, particularly in the fourteen-part “Open Letter to Open-Minded Progressives” (2000a-d &c). Land’s “Dark Enlightenment” text attempts to formalize Moldbug’s prolific if rambling blogposts into a neoreactionary theory of capitalist acceleration grounded in a despotic sovereign political order. Moldbug and Land follow the form of a left and postcolonial critique of modernity, but turn the critique on its head: the modern promise of equality and democracy was not compromised (by slavery, colonialism, and capitalism); the promise is itself the compromise that prevents capitalism’s flourishing. Modern notions of equality legitimate any grievance as oppression, and democracy compels the state to recompense any grievance claim. Democracy and equality therefore combine to promote personal failure. Neoreaction seeks to replace democratic voice with exit, or the right to leave any polity at any time, and to restore sovereignty in the figure of a CEO-King who seeks only to maximize value and therefore to accelerate capitalism. Race serves a crucial function in this theory: ministered to by the “Cathedral,” race mediates between citizens and state, sanctioning grievance claims and incentivizing dysfunction. However, by properly reprogramming race through neo-eugenics rather than modern notions of equality, it could become the accelerationist motor capable of restoring the lost future of capitalist sovereignty before its corruption through enforced diversity.

    The obsession with restoring lost ethnic sovereignty links the more abstruse neoreactionary thinkers with populists such as Bannon, who also adopt the form of left critique to advance reactionary thinking. Although Bannon’s status as a political star did not long outlive his tenure in Trump’s White House, which ended on August 18, 2017, he remains a pivotal figure for his role in linking the openly fascist politics of figures like Aleksander Dugin and Julius Evola with mainstream political discourse. In his 2014 speech to a conference in the Vatican, Bannon channels left critical theory, citing Marx in a critique of the “Objectivist School of libertarian capitalism,” which seeks to “make people commodities, to objectify people” (Bannon, quoted in Feder 2016). Identifying a “crisis in the underpinnings of capitalism,” he diagnoses the post-crash bailout as symptomatic of a system that favors elites over the working classes (Bannon, quoted in Feder 2016). As a reactionary, though, Bannon proposes to rescue the future by restoring the past. Bannon praises Vladimir Putin, and his “advisor [Aleksander Dugin] who harkens back to Julius Evola” for “standing up for traditional institutions” and national sovereignty (Bannon, quoted in Feder 2016). Acknowledging Evola’s fascism, Bannon nevertheless argues that “people want to see sovereignty for their country, they want to see nationalism” and a return to the time of America’s founding when “freedoms were controlled at a local level” rather than by elites in global command centers such as New York, London, and Berlin (Bannon, quoted in Feder 2016). Bannon’s thinking here precisely follows the reactionary paradigm Robin outlines: Bannon develops a withering critique of the present order—one that overlaps in places with left critiques of finance capital—and offers as a solution the restoration of a fallen order.[5] Although they distance themselves from populist fascists like Bannon, Land and Moldbug share the same reactionary preoccupation. Land’s systematization of Moldbug sketches a program for fulfilling Bannon’s desire for sovereignty. This program relies on race as a formal explanatory category—a mode of immanent critique—and an interface that ran reconfigure the political order, assigning a place for the lost future of the CEO-King.

    The Cathedral and History

    As I have argued, following Robin (2013), reactionary politics combines two gestures: first, an immanent critique of the present, and second, a call to restore a lost past. This impulse surfaces in racist meme culture, but it receives a more rigorous treatment in Land and Moldbug, both of whom wage a critique of the present in service of a resurrection of the past. I turn now to the neoreactionary “Cathedral” critique—the first reactionary gesture—in order to show how it sanctions a call for a return in the present to neo-Victorian racism—the second reactionary gesture.

    Land and Moldbug are profoundly lapsarian thinkers. For them, progressivism—the conspiracy the “Cathedral” sustains—is the fall that obscures and indeed encourages the degeneration of the races. Land (2013) argues that the progressive Enlightenment follows the “logical perversity” of “Hegel’s dialectic,” enforcing the “egalitarian moral ideal” through progressivism’s sustaining formula: “tolerance is tolerable” and “intolerance is intolerable.” This formal structure guarantees a “positive right to be tolerated, defined ever more expansively as substantial entitlement” (Land 2013). If progressivism is the fall, tolerance is the juggernaut that tramples any attempt at ascent. For Land, the American Civil War is a moment of original sin that that “cross-coded the practical question of the Leviathan with (black/white) racial dialectics” (Land 2013). Of the Civil War, Land writes:

    The moral coherence of the Union cause required that the founders were reconceived as politically illegitimate white patriarchal slave-owners, and American history combusted in progressive education and the culture wars. If independence is the ideology of the slave-holders, emancipation requires the programmatic destruction of independence. Within a cross-coded history, the realization of freedom is indistinguishable from its abolition. (Land 2013)

    The Civil War thus installs a “cross-coded” history running on parallel historical tracks between progressive and dark enlightenments, emancipation and independence, voice and exit. This genealogy allows Land to identify a formal mechanism that propels the “only tolerance is tolerable” formula of the Progressive Enlightenment. The anachronistic insertion of “progressive education” and the “culture wars” into the stakes of the Civil War does not trouble Land because his analysis is formal rather than historical: the “cross-coded” history leads inexorably to progressivism, which in turn functions as a transhistorical epistemological and ontological force. Hence Moldbug claims, bizarrely, that Harvard’s “progressive” curriculum has not changed in 200 years, that British politics has been moving steadily left for 150 years, and that progressives—among whom he includes all mainstream Western politicians—have no enemies to the left (Moldbug 2008a).

    The “Cathedral” conspiracy therefore assigns a context for reaction. If neoreactionary thinking appears to be out of place, it is only because of the long reign of progressive dogma. The reactionary desire for a lost past follows close behind. Moldbug thus routinely cites the pre-1922 texts available on Google Books to pierce the “Cathedral” veil, approvingly linking, for example, to Nehemiah Adams’ 1854 account of his trip to the south, where he found himself surprised to find the slaves “were all in good humor, and some of them in a broad laugh” and charmed by the “unbought” friendliness of slaves (Adams 1854). Elaborating on the dubious claim that the “neat thing about primary sources is that often, it only takes one to prove your point,” Moldbug brags that high school students “won’t be assigned the primary sources I just linked to” (Moldbug 2008d). He cites the same source in a post defending and indeed advocating Thomas Carlyle’s view on slavery, suggesting that those who view slavery as “intrinsically evil” would “quickly change their tunes if forced,” like Adams, “to function in an actual slave society” (Moldbug 2009). The “Cathedral” conspiracy excuses Moldbug from evaluating Adams’ account, or from consulting the numerous contemporary accounts of slavery’s evils. If high school students wouldn’t be assigned it, that’s only because it violates “Cathedral” dogma. And since Adams’ account predates the Civil War (though not Enlightenment itself), it is therefore more likely to see the truth before the fall. Piercing the mists of this transhistorical progressivism, we see that “Not all humans are born the same, of course, and the innate character and intelligence of some is more suited to mastery than slavery. For others, it is more suited to slavery” (Moldbug 2009). To take the measure of these aptitudes, Moldbug turns to an uncanny form of racism that functions as an interface for gathering and sorting human populations.

    Race as Interface

    Land and Moldbug accept race as a means of categorizing human aptitude within a global hierarchy. This notion of race plays a crucial role in their thinking, which describes the following racial dynamic: Insofar as progressivism incentivizes inaptitude, it also encourages racial degeneration. This is race as a technology, as Wendy Chun (2009) has described: race has particular affordances for enframing human populations, and this enframing shapes the contours of social and political orders. Extending Galloway, this is race as interface, as a form that gathers humans into a global frame and sorts them hierarchically (see also Weheliye 2014).

    Land and Moldbug’s uncanny racism resurrects a notion of race as an interface for gathering and sorting global populations first deployed in late Victorian eugenics. Like the eugenicists, Land and Moldbug rely on race as a mean of categorizing humans based on their biologically determined aptitude.  In 1869, Francis Galton called this aptitude “hereditary genius,” and offered it as a scientific explanation for the advance of certain civilizations over others, with Europeans, of course, at the apex of racial hierarchy (Galton 1869). Land and Moldbug adopt a range of figures (although no trained geneticists) in articulating a new version of race science called “human biodiversity,” which includes the relatively banal argument that humans are not neurologically uniform coupled with the dubious and insidious claim that this “biodiversity” can be best measured by plotting genetically-determined racial categories to IQ distribution.[6] Yarvin makes this argument without his typical circumlocution in a Medium post (which he later deleted) that attempted to persuade delegates at the LambdaConf functional programming conference against boycotting his presence because of his slavery apologetics (Breitbart sympathetically chronicled Yarvin’s plight).[7] Yarvin insists he does not equate “anatomical traits” with “moral superiority” but makes the explicit argument for a genetically determined racial hierarchy as measured by IQ in the comments section of the Medium post (Yarvin 2016). Here Yarvin is trying to speak to what Moldbug would call the “Cathedral,” defending himself from committing the moral sin of racism as the bad ideology of individual viewpoints. He also criticizes mass incarceration—the first reactionary gesture. Yet Yarvin also summons race in its uncanny neo-eugenicist form to suggest that “Malik cannot be magically turned into a Jewish math nerd” (Yarvin 2016). This is the second gesture, a proposal that neo-eugenicist racism can explain and resolve the problem of mass incarceration and “the destruction of African American society” (Yarvin 2016).

    Another crucial connection between neoreaction and Victorian racism is the use of race not only to categorize humans by aptitude, but also to plot the potential for civilizational achievement. John Stuart Mill’s On Liberty offers a canonical description of Victorian Liberal conceptions of the hierarchy of races, which Mill leverages to justify violent repression in India: savages cannot “practise the forebearance” that “civilized society” demands, and they therefore require “despotic” governance to restore sovereignty and subdue passions (209). Land’s claim that Europeans are genetically predisposed to “low time preference” is formally indistinguishable from Mill’s preoccupation with forbearance. However, neoreaction reverses the racial trajectory. For liberal Victorian racial theorists, exposure to Enlightenment civilization could advance a given race beyond savagery. Land’s neoreaction reverses this trajectory: the exposure to Enlightenment formula that “only tolerance is tolerable” encourages further dysfunction in the lower races. This argument adopts another strain of Victorian racism: racial degenerationism, or the notion that races could devolve to be increasingly ill suited to civilization. Racial degenerationism found practical application in criminal atavism, the theory that criminals resembled “prehistoric man” and behaved “in a way that would be appropriate to savage societies” (Ellis 1890, 208). Adopting a similar assumption, Land suggests that “barbarism has been normalized,” in “lethally menacing” cities where “civilization has fundamentally collapsed” (Land 2013). Indulging in racist moral panic about urban decay—another anachronism in this age of urban “revitalization”—Moldbug argues that most American cities would benefit from martial law, and Land (2013) identifies white flight as the “spontaneous impulse of the dark enlightenment”: it is all exit and no voice. Land’s investment in white flight is also a libidinal investment in the fear of violently virile black bodies, which finds its parallel in the alt-right’s obsession with cuckoldry and “cucking” racialized as a white man watching his white wife dominated by a “black bull.” The purposefully excessive “cuck” discourse offers a means of indulging the fear of the black body while at the same time enjoying the act of violating tenets of “Cathedral” faith. The crucial point, though, is that “cuck” discourse not only operates to critique political correctness; it also signals an understanding of race as interface for governance, that which promotes degeneration but also—properly reprogrammed—promises acceleration to a lost future.

    Conclusion

    Before an antifa (anti-fascist) protestor sucker-punched Richard Spencer in the face in Washington, D.C. on Trump’s inauguration day—a moment that quickly achieved meme status—a bystander asked Spencer if he liked black people. Spencer smirked, shrugged, and said, “Sure” (Burris 2017). Identity politics poses a double trap for approaching the alt-right: Criticize the alt-right for bad identity politics, and they can easily dodge the accusation by parroting mainstream acceptance of diversity discourse, or point to the fact that political correctness is mainstream and therefore part of the power structure that so clearly needs dismantling. Criticize identity politics, and cede to the alt-right the choice of battleground. I have argued here that alt-right critics tend to make just such a concession. By focusing on the first gesture—the immanent critique—we risk missing the form of reactionary ideology, which includes a call for restoring a lost past. Spencer attempts to distill this call into a slogan: “race is real, race matters, race is the foundation of identity.” This slogan adapts Land and Moldbug’s racial formalism, but instead of an exit from grievance democracy, it argues for inclusion within grievance status. Hence Moldbug’s (2007) coy refusal of white nationalism: “I’m not exactly allergic to the stuff,” he writes, but white nationalists only recognize the symptom, missing the cure. The critique of “cucks” and the obsession with “red-pilling” offers a more nakedly libidinal, pop cultural take on the “Cathedral,” but, according to Moldbug, the alt-right fails to recognize that the entitlement state cannot expand to include white nationalist grievance, because to do so would violate “Cathedral” dogma. Bannon’s strong sovereignty more closely approaches the cure, but insofar as nationalism entails protectionism, he fails to follow techno-futurism back to the futuristic past that neoreactionaries desire.

    Land proposes as a formal fix “hyper-racism,” his vision for accelerating the “explicitly superior” and already “genetically self-filtering elite” through a system of “assortative mating” that would offer a “class-structured mechanism for population diremption, on a vector toward neo-speciation” (Land 2014). This is eugenics as a program for exit, not only from the progressive Enlightenment but also from the limits of humanity. Despite its contemporary jargon, this hyper-racism is indistinguishable in its form from late Victorian eugenics, which also recommended a program of “assortative mating.” Of course, now eugenics places us on a vector toward neo-speciation; so it’s back to the past, but now it’s futuristic.

    The “Cathedral” conspiracy justifies and motivates this recuperation of uncanny racism. Clearly, the “Cathedral” conspiracy shares much in common with rudimentary applications of Gramscian notions of hegemony or Hermann and Chomsky’s (1988) propaganda model. Ideology critique and reactionary critique tend to mirror one another. This is because both attempt to assign the uncanny object to a place, to contextualize it, whether as a justified response to the “Cathedral” or as a misguided response to left moralism. Reactionary thinking tends to fully indulge the critical impulse. Behind every veil, it finds the “Cathedral.”  This libidinal investment in unveiling resonates in the alt-right obsession with “red-pilling” and cuckoldry. Just as neoreactionaries fear that the “Cathedral” faith promotes black dysfunction, the alt-right fears “blue-pilling” as a form of penetration by the Other.

    To those of us reared in the “Cathedral’s” halls, this is all repugnant. It is also uncanny: Haven’t we moved beyond this racism?  Of course, the alt-right has a memetic response to this critique: “I mean, come on people, it’s [current year].” The alt-right has fully anticipated critical unmasking and absorbed it into the meme form, which refuses symbolic decoding and provides a formal interface for the participatory reappropriation and bricolage that characterize media practice in this age of communicative capitalism. Ideology critique and reactionary critique are similar in form: both attempt to recuperate the uncanny, to assign it a place. It is therefore crucial to attend to the uncanny form of reactionary ideology, which develops an immanent critique of the present in order to find a place in which to restore a lost past. Rather than following the alt-right to the purported excesses of identity politics, it is crucial to reckon with reactionary racism as the fulcrum of a proposed political order. This is not just a call to examine “structural racism,” because neoreactionary racism and alt-right racism have yet to harden into structure. It is instead a form, an interface between certain technical predicates (race as a gathering and sorting mechanism) and the social (the lost white future of the CEO-King). Reactionary ideology attempts to recuperate this uncanny racism; ideology critique must do more than cite the desire for this recuperation.

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    Robert Topinka is Lecturer in Transnational Media and Cultural Studies at Birkbeck, University of London. He is currently working on the Arts and Humanities Research Council funded project entitled “Politics, Ideology, and Rhetoric in the 21st Century: The Case of the Alt-Right.”

    Back to the essay

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    Notes

    [1] This work was supported by an Arts and Humanities Research Council grant for “Political Ideology, Rhetoric and Aesthetics in the Twenty-First Century: The Case of the ‘Alt-Right,’” (AH/R001197/1).

    [2] As Nagle (2017) documents, Gabriella Coleman (2014) continued to write approvingly of 4chan as late as 2014, when the forum was dominated by extreme racism and misogyny, and she also celebrated the hacker “weev” despite his open Nazism (102-105). In her book on trolling, Whitney Phillips (2015) argues for the redeeming qualities of “racist statements forwarded by people whose stated goal is to be as racist and upsetting as possible” because, unlike more subtle racists, “at least trolls advertise” (97). Although Phillips is right to argue that there is no value in simply condemning trolls, it is similarly difficult to see the value in well-advertised racism. The history of celebratory studies of participatory culture weighs heavily on such accounts.

    [3] The explainers cited in this paper all recount a version of Pepe’s history. For an academic treatment, see Marwick and Lewis (2017: 36).

    [4] On “Dark Deleuze,” see Culp (2016). For a succinct account and critique of Land’s accelerationism see Noys (2014: 54-58). For more on the controversy surrounding Nick Land’s planned 2016 appearance at the London art gallery LD50 and the seminar series he offered in 2017 at the New Centre for Research and Practice, see Shutdown LD50 (2017) and “Against Nick Land and the Reactive Left” (2017).

    [5] This contradictory impulse to restore the past in the future is a key feature of fascism. In an analysis of National Socialism, Jeffrey Herf (1981) calls this “reactionary modernism.”

    [6] On HBD, Land and Moldbug’s sources include prolific eugenicist bloggers such as “hbd chick” and Steve Sailer, controversial popular genetics writers including Charles Murray and Nicholas Wade, and the physicist Stephen Hsu, whose recent interest in the genetics of intelligence has generated controversy (see Flaherty 2013). Galton, Land, and Moldbug share a similar strategy of racial typing. Galton adopted Quetelet’s use of the Gauss-Laplace distribution to identify physical generations in human populations, which Galton sought to index with racial categories (Galton 1869: xi, and Wozniak 1999).

    [7] Breitbart lists four articles under the “Curtis Yarvin” tag as of May 3, 2019. For the first defense of Yarvin’s presence at LambdaConf, which, incidentally, was published the same day as Breitbart’s alt-right explainer, see Bokhari (2016).

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    Works Cited

  • Brian Hughes — Thriving from Exile: Toward a Materialist Analysis of the Alt-Right

    Brian Hughes — Thriving from Exile: Toward a Materialist Analysis of the Alt-Right

    Brian Hughes

    Introduction: Postmortem

    Between the years 2015-18—when the (so-called) “alt-right” first exploded to prominence in the public eye—media coverage and academic scrutiny of this loose knit far-right coalition approached the topic almost exclusively from the perspectives of ethnography, culture/discursive mapping and ideological historiography. And, indeed, circumstances demanded such approaches. Countless readers were taken off-guard by the sudden wave of antisemitic internet trolls and polo-clad neo-fascists whom they now saw marching in the streets. Only methods such as these were capable of operating with the necessary speed to orient the public to a grotesque new movement that appeared to enjoy the ear of the president himself.

    But in that haste, something was neglected. To date, a rigorous, comprehensive materialist analysis of the alt-right and its origins has yet to be seen. Of course, the great challenge of historical materialism is that it demands detail—facts pertaining to the realities of finance, technological affordances, regulation of capital and labor under the law, stacks and flows of raw currency, and so on. And such detail cannot be developed without ample time for researchers to acquire and organize it, or for readers to absorb it. But time was in short supply as the alt-right made its transition from a mostly virtual media phenomenon to a political movement characterized by public demonstrations, entry into the halls of American power, and, very quickly, murder. And so, the “culturalist” approach rightly predominated.

    It should go without saying that such an absence of materialist analysis has left us only partially equipped to recognize, let alone oppose, future movements owing their origins to conditions similar to those of the alt-right. Today, at least in the opinion of some commentators, the alt-right proper may be a spent force (Weill 2018; McCoy 2018; Barrouquere 2018). But its legacy lives on in even more extreme ideologies and movements. These new forces of the far-right are emerging according to patterns startlingly similar to those which birthed the alt-right. It is essential that we study them in light of the relations of capital to productive labor and technology.

    Unfortunately, the convergence of crises that menace the present day, spanning from the rise of a new populist authoritarianism to climate catastrophe and beyond, are defined precisely by an urgency that would seem to preclude the production of rigorous dialectical works. This essay nevertheless advocates for such an impossible approach—indeed, insists upon the necessity of this tedious, time-consuming work. Toward that end, this essay will indicate some approaches that such a fact-driven, dialectical method might take. It will identify key economic antagonisms and moments of technological revolution, which set into place the conditions necessary for the emergence of a proto-alt-right media ecosystem, and eventually the alt-right itself. It will indicate how similar patterns of antagonism and technological change are contributing to the emergence of newer, yet-more radical and dangerous far right fringe movements today. And while these are, at best, trailheads to a more detailed and rigorous analysis, perhaps it will at least serve as postmortem for a moment that has since grown into a crisis. Perhaps in its very failure to fully answer its own mandate, this essay will succeed in stressing the urgency of such an undertaking.

    Gaps and Surfeits: Reviewing the Culturalist Literature

    To be sure, many fine works of political economy addressing this era of far-right ascendancy are being written. But while indispensable, these do not address the alt-right per se. The journal Critical Sociology recently published its symposium “Neoliberalism and the Far Right,” a concise set of articles describing the “organic or constitutive pathologies or contradictions within the political economy of neoliberalism that, in many respects, dates back to the emergence of this distinct ideo-political framework in the 1930s,” and (so the symposium’s participants argue) produced the conditions that have led us to our current moment of authoritarian populism (Kiely and Saull 2018, 821). The Monthly Review continues to publish exemplary works of materialist political economy, such as Michael Joseph Roberto’s 2017 piece, The Origins of American Fascism. In it, he seeks to recruit the works of key theorists of 20th Century fascism (Baran, Sweezy, Haider, Corey, Magil and Stevens) for the needs of today (Roberto 2017). As in the Critical Sociology symposium, this work insists upon a recognition of historical continuity. In steep contrast to the exceptional or atavistic treatment that characterizes so much popular coverage and analysis of President Trump (Robin 2017), Roberto’s insistence upon a sense of historical continuity will be essential to a project of materialist analysis of the alt-right.

    Unfortunately, these works, and others like them, leave the alt-right itself untouched, or at best tangential, to the broader issues of far-right populism, the radicalization of the American white middle class, the legacy of neoliberalism and of its “cleansing [of] state from the consequences of (social) democracy” (Kiely and Saull 2017, 822). Perhaps this is appropriate. For while the alt-right may have seized an outsized share of public attention, it is debatable just how great an influence the movement can realistically claim (Mudde 2018). Indeed, the works of Roberto, Foster, and the Critical Sociology symposiasts indicate that we must not treat the alt-right as a primary stimulus of our country’s current predicament. However, neither is the alt-right reducible to a generic symptom of these same historical forces. While unimaginable outside of the broader historical political-economic context sketched above, the alt-right is a consequence of a subset of productive forces specific to itself. A historical materialist analysis of the alt-right must seek to identify the productive patterns that were unique to the genesis and metastasis of the movement—hence the importance of an initial focus on media and communication technology.

    Major works specifically addressing the alt-right have been largely free of political economic approaches. The most prominent long-form texts on the topic make no claims‚ implicit or otherwise, to performing a materialist analysis of the subject. George Hawley’s Making Sense of the alt-right is a rigorous (if brief) scholarly treatment of the movement, which profiles prominent movement personalities, pivotal moments in the movement’s evolution and metastasis, and highlights the ideological positions that defined the movement over the past decade and a half (Hawley 2018). While Hawley does hazard to identify some causal patterns pertaining to relations between capital and the productive forces that gave birth to the movement, he stops far short of a structural analysis. Mike Wendling’s alt-right from 4chan to the White House is a detailed taxonomy of the cultural and ideological categories that comprise the alt-right. It offers a clear and well-delineated lexicon with which to discuss to alt-right, but it offers effectively no causal analysis for the origins and orientations of the alt-right (Wendling 2018). David Neiwert’s Alt-America: The Rise of the Radical Right in the Age of Trump does attempt to trace origins and contingencies, narrativizing the movement through the political evolution of American conspiracy cultures (Neiwert 2017). Neiwert makes a convincing case for the presence of conspiratorial thinking across American far-right subcultures. And his claim that the alt-right represents an outgrowth of militia and anti-New World Order subcultures is intriguing enough to warrant serious pursuit. Nevertheless, Niewert’s analysis is also primarily cultural, and leaves material explanations largely unmodeled.

    The sole full-length work to focus on the alt-right while claiming to speak from the socialist position is Angela Nagle’s monograph Kill All Normies. The alt-right, Nagle argues, emerged as a force of opposition to what the right characterizes as unchecked “PC-cultural politics” (Nagle 2017, 19) of the online left, a movement which had become preoccupied with toxic identity politics and ideological purges. In what has become one of the book’s most hotly debated passages, Nagle writes that “the key driving force behind [online call-out culture] is about creating scarcity in an environment in which virtue is the currency… the counterforce of which was the anonymous underworld from which the right-wing trolling cultures emerged” (Nagle 2017, 76). That is to say that an exclusionary left-wing culture created the opening for a strategic right-wing backlash. This contention has, in the years following its publication, further exacerbated divisions within the left (Liu 2017, Stewart 2017) while simultaneously provoking attempts to seal these fissures (Weatherby 2017).

    Whether it is or is not accurate, and for all the self-reflection it may have provoked on the left, Nagle’s critique should not be mistaken for a materialist analysis of the alt-right’s origins and modes of self-reproduction. Rather, it would more accurately be described as a cultural ethnography presented via market metaphor. Nagle’s “online economy of virtue” (Nagle 2017, 68) belongs to the realm of political economy only insofar as it is libidinal and “there is as much libidinal intensity in capitalist exchange as in the alleged ‘symbolic’ exchange” (Lyotard 1993, 109). But while such a transposition is no doubt possible, this cannot credibly be claimed as Nagle’s project.

    Nagle’s critique takes place at the level of culture, engaging with culture as experienced and described by those within it. And while this approach contains some shortcomings, so too do all methodologies and critical frameworks. The culturalist approach no doubt offers advantages that other analytic lenses do not. Culturalist approaches like Nagle’s can reveal intra-movement fault lines while charting the expressions of (for example) commodity fetishism in online subculture. This can help us to understand how consumer identity merged with reactionary politics in the Gamergate movement that began in 2014 (Massanari 2017, Salter 2018). It should also be noted that culturalist approaches offer lay readers a compelling entry point into otherwise alien objects of study. When faced with the sudden appearance of a strange and frightening movement like the alt-right, such reader appeal is vital.

    Clearly, we do not lack for well-drawn histories and ethnographies of the alt-right. Nor do we lack for serious political economic treatments of the global authoritarian populist turn. What we lack is a substantive work that will specifically treat the alt-right as the outcome of relations of production at those sites from which the alt-right issued forth.

    Trailheads: Sites of Interest for Material Analysis

    The alt-right was initially a media-oriented phenomenon, existing almost exclusively in the communicative space of Web 2.0 and subsequent Social Web. Since “different ways of financing and organizing cultural production have traceable consequences for the range of discourse, representations, and communicative resources…and for the organization of audience access and use” (Golding and Murdock 2005, 70), a materialist analysis on the origins of the alt-right might well begin with the financial, technological, and productive-relational history of media and communication technology.

    In fact, the alt-right came about through a decades-long intra-right-wing struggle over ownership and access to media and communication technologies—both in the organs of the press and broadcast, and within the space of think-tanks, intellectual societies, and, occasionally, universities. This internecine struggle was augmented by much broader shifts in conditions of ownership and techno-legal regulatory frameworks, which characterized communication technology and media in the late-20th and early 21st centuries.

    Each generation of 20th Century American reactionaries found itself forced to contended with a progressive narrowing of its access to mass media. Lacking access to the organs of conservative ideological commodity production, these groups and individuals would coalesce over the course of decades into a thriving network of clubs, social circles, and publications funded by wealthier members of the marginal far-right. This sequestration effected a process of further ideological radicalization, characterized by risk-shifting and isolation-cohesion (McCauley and Moskalenko 2016)—trends only exacerbated by the need to produce and reproduce a market for far-right ideological content that went mostly unsatisfied by mainstream counterparts. As digital technology (defined in large part by the commercial internet and its laissez-faire regulatory regime) offered new and inexpensive vehicles by which to the reach the public, a new generation of reactionaries came of age, radicalized in an era when now access could be taken for granted.

    Many observers, both within and outside of the alt-right, cite William F. Buckley’s purge of the John Birch Society from the American conservative movement as the beginning of the American far-right’s years on the media fringe (Ashbee 2000). Finding itself out of step with the relatively liberal tenor of the times, Buckley, his National Review magazine, and the conservative movement for which they claimed to speak, pursued not merely a change in image, but a wholesale redrawing of the circumferences of American conservatism. Along with the expulsion of the John Birch Society and its leader Robert Welch, this reorientation involved the rejection of Randian objectivists, along with the explicitly antisemitic Liberty Lobby, and other, smaller concerns (Mintz 1985). Through a campaign of editorial and organizational exclusion, a new, “midcentury American conservatism was self-consciously created to appeal to the mainstream of American philosophical liberalism” (Deneen 2017, 24). Throughout its history National Review never turned a profit and was dependent on Buckley’s ability to “draw on elite social circles for additional donations to the magazine” (Sivek 2008, 267). Therefore, purging the embarrassments of Robert Welch, Ayn Rand, et. al was imperative in order to continue funding American conservatism’s mid-century journal of record. And so, this purge was as much a ruthless financial decision as an ideological one (and indeed, an orthodox dialectical materialism would stress the determining pressure of finance upon ideology).

    Despite the National Review’s considerable influence, it was never the sole gatekeeper of conservative communications. The Buckley purge did not single-handedly create the critical mass necessary for a rival, dissident far-right media ecosystem to coalesce. Buckley’s “no-platforming” strategy succeeded in sanitizing the public face of movement conservatism while disciplining its operatives. But in doing so, it only curtailed the ability of these tendencies to steer conservative politics in the second half of the 20th Century. Birchers continued to operate their own not-inconsiderable media operations via ownership of a vast publishing and distribution infrastructure (Mintz 1985). Meanwhile, Objectivists remained a numerically small but disproportionately influential current within midcentury discourse as a justifying function of unbridled capitalism (Toy 2004). The ideological projects represented by these now-officially fringe groups were merely repressed—not eliminated. While their sequestration from primary economies of ideological media production severely diminished their ability to impact mass politics, it did not end their (small i) ideological projects. These would remain constant, until such time as the conditions of the political economy of media shifted several decades later.

    It was the neoconservative ascension, and concomitant “paleoconservative purges,” of the 1980s, 90s, and 2000s (Berlet 2008, Gottfried 2015), which brought together the primary cohort of individuals, groups, and sources of financing that would constitute the core of the proto-alt-right. Racist ultraconservatives such as Paul Gottfried, Joe Sobran, Patrick Buchanan, William Regnery II, Peter Brimelow, Mel Bradford, and Sam Francis (to name but a few) found themselves, one by one, forced from such organs of the conservative movement as Commentary, the Intercollegiate Institute, and (many times over) the National Review (Williams 2017). As increasing numbers of far-right ideologues and financiers found themselves recast as liabilities within movement conservatism, an alternative right wing at last began to coalesce.

    These newly radioactive writers and politicos sought out new sites at which to produce media commodities. A constellation of paleo-friendly print serials such as Chronicles, Left and Right, and The Rockwell-Rothbard Report, established “an interconnected set of rhetorical pipelines and echo chambers [to] amplify and repeat the messages and…ideology of the group into the mainstream” (Berlet 2008, 580). This paleoconservative alternative media, with its inferior range and capital resources, was well-suited to producing increasingly unapologetic extremist ideological content and reach a small audience. However, this alternative print market proved simply too meagre to deliver the American far-right back into power.

    Again, movement conservatism had succeeded in sanitizing and disciplining itself, throwing its ugliest tendencies to the margins of the market. By century’s end, paleoconservatism seemed a dead letter, dashed apart by internecine ideological conflicts over foreign interventionism and Austrian economics (Ashbee 2000, 82-83). The paleo-purge might even have achieved what the Bircher purge could not, ending paleoconservatism as an ideological project altogether—but for an epochal revolution in markets and technology brought about by the age of mass internet access.

    With the arrival of the internet—specifically Web 2.0 and the blogosphere—several key sites in the paleoconservative diaspora became launching sites for the incipient Alt-Right. The American Conservative, founded in 2002 by Pat Buchanan, Taki Theodoracopulos, and Scott McConnell, was perhaps the most high-profile of these post-paleo print/digital crossovers (Hawley 2017, 57-59). The American Conservative would become a prime site of synergy and metastasis between paleocons and the proto-alt-right. TAC would give future alt-right figurehead Richard Spencer his entré to publishing as an Assistant Editor from 2007-08. When Spencer was fired (purportedly for his extremist beliefs), he found a soft landing at Theodoracopulos’s new endeavor, the blog TakiMag. One year later, Spencer would go on to found AlternativeRight.com, funded by another National Review exile, Peter Brimelow, and by disillusioned paleo-financier William H. Regnery II (ibid).

    By the time that Spencer left Taki’s Magazine in 2010, the era of “Web 2.0” was in full flower, characterized by increasingly inexpensive tools for developing professional-looking websites. However, these cosmetic improvements were in fact symptomatic of a more fundamental change in the power of publishing capital. With the arrival of Web 2.0, control over the relevant means of producing media commodities increasingly migrated to blogging platforms (WordPress), user generated content sites (YouTube), and website building software as a service (Squarespace). This technological shift occurred within the context of a broader financialization of the press, which decimated medium-sized publications, and ushered in an era of precarious, contingent “content production” labor, feeding these new platforms a rush of media industry refugees. While the largest media companies would continue to employ their own web developers, smaller companies and independent content producers quickly adopted these alternatives. This effected a radical reversal of the sale of labor between small media companies and web developers. Whereas in the past, web developers would have sold their labor to media companies, now small media producers sold theirs to an ever-shrinking handful of hosting, publishing, and design platforms, who reaped the surplus value of advertising and data mining.

    The success of this arrangement depended on an unprecedented alienation of labor, even to the extent that small content producers did not recognize the arrangement as such. The (capital-I) Ideological façade of individual empowerment which accompanied the tech-libertarian disruption of Web 2.0 ensured that companies would exercise no oversight save the bare legal minimum. The so-called “safe harbor” protections afforded to digital tech platforms by Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act fostered both the expansive logic of this new mode of capital exploitation as well as its Ideological rationale. Under the statute, interactive computer service providers such as the low-cost blogging platforms upon which the alt-right would be built could not be held accountable for the content or actions of their clients (Balasubramani 2017; Citron and Wittes 2017). As digital economic refugees flooded the new platforms during the years of the great recession, the new wielders of productive capital did not investigate their labor pool too deeply. The dregs of the American conservative movement were no exception to any of these pressures or affordances.

    Spencer seized this opportunity (albeit unwittingly) to launch AlternativeRight.com (Hawley 2017, 57). Now, the American far-right became more eclectic than ever before. At AlternativeRight.com, paleoconservatives like Paul Gottfried and Sam Francis appeared alongside self-proclaimed “manosphere” misogynists like Matt Forney, academic antisemites Kevin MacDonald and Ricardo Duchesne, mainstream libertarians like David Gordon and Thomas Woods, and fringe “right-wing anarchists” Keith Preston and Jack Donovan. To these were added Norse pagan revivalists, heterodox Eastern Rite Christians, Evolan perennialists, and conspiracists of all stripes (Nagle 2017). While many factors contributed to this eclecticism (the biases and affordances of hypertext and Spencer’s intention to create a “big tent” movement, to name just two) market forces underpin them all. Cross-pollination expanded Alternative Right‘s readership, which in turn expanded funding opportunities, which subsequently created new readerships with new demands for representation within the burgeoning proto-alt-right. A similar phenomenon may be glimpsed today in the “alternative influence” networks which knit together far-right networks on user generated content platforms such as YouTube (Lewis 2018).

    In the early 21st Century, when arrangements of productive capital and technological capacities changed so radically, ideological projects that had endured, and even festered, in exile, now returned to reclaim their place in the American conservative movement. What had been sanitized was reinfected; what had been disciplined was now set loose.

    The points of conjunction mentioned so far are only a few of the most obvious sites of inquiry at which a materialist analysis of the alt-right movement might begin. There are many more historical watersheds where technology, capital, and human intention met to produce what ultimately became the alt-right. We may point to the consumer-cultural revolt of #Gamergate, or to strategic courting of online troll groups by Trump consigliere and former executive chairman for Breitbart.com Steve Bannon (Green 2017). The ongoing role of Bitcoin and other cryptocurrencies in financing a now badly damaged alt-right raises a pressing need both for new modalities of digital political economy and their application to the question of far-right extremism (Golumbia 2016). Deeper questions of labor and masculine identity have the potential to unearth entirely new vistas of investigative potential intersecting with gender and cultural theory (Kimmel 2018).

    However, we should not wait for an exhaustive materialist survey and analysis before applying lessons from the history (crudely) sketched above. These very same patterns of repression-exile-metastasis-and-return appear to be reoccurring in microcosm today, as mainstream conservatism has redrawn the boundaries of acceptability. Conservatism under Trump embraces some on its former extremes, while new, semi-disavowed fringes escalate to heights of ever-more spectacular violence. An array of legal and financial pressures force sites such as 8chan toward distributed hosting strategies (Poulson 2019). The same combination of pressures is increasingly forcing far right extremists onto encrypted messaging apps (Glaser 2019). Will these exiles continue their ideological projects in that exile? How might these ideologies blend, mutually provoke, and metastasize? And what unforeseen revolution in the relations of production might one day affect their ascent to power?

    Conclusion: Moving Faster

    The conditions according to which the 20th Century American far-right financed and organized the production of its ideological commodities enabled a denial of its fringes. As each generation of the 20th-Century American far-right was forced to contend with increasingly narrow access to capital and productive means, new logics of producing ideological commodities emerged. With the revolution in technology and relations of labor incited by the internet and Web 2.0, and organized by a techno-libertarian legal regime, these far-right logics metastasized and returned to the broader cultural marketplace in the form of the alt-right.

    To the extent that the mass and momentum of capital and technology might have overwhelmed attempts at strategic intervention during these early periods, the culturalist approach to understanding the alt-right takes on renewed importance. Those periods of exile during which the far-right incubates its ugliest offspring are precisely the points at which culturalist insights might do the most to shape counterstrategy. These factors which incubated the alt-right may have belonged to Neiwert’s conspiracies, Nagle’s subculture wars, or some as-yet-unidentified tendency. During that period of incubation, in which capital, the law, technology, and social pressure converged to isolate and minimize the American far right, it was these sites at which successful intervention might have occurred. Now that the extremist right’s end of exile has laid bare the material causes for its return, political economy is positioned to make a case for intervention appropriate to the present day.

    The materialist analysis of this movement must be written. This analysis should be incorporated with the findings of culturalist study, so that together they can inform both policy and strategies of civil action. The scope of such a project seems large indeed. But perhaps it is only impossible if undertaken in a spirit of retreat or abstract reflection.

    In the short term, the lessons provided by this materialist sketch might help to understand hidden dynamics in the cat-and-mouse game of deplatflorming and reemergence that defines far right activity on the internet today. As the history of American conservatism’s purges seems to indicate, deplatforming does indeed limit the extreme fringes from wielding power and influence but only for so long as they remain pushed to the margins. When these repressed tendencies return, as in the case of the alt-right, we are reminded that synergies and antagonisms of capital, labor, and technology have the power to return these once-exiled fringes back into the world.

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    Brian Hughes is a doctoral candidate and lecturer at the American University School of Communication. His work explores the impact of communication technology on political and religious extremism, terrorism and fringe culture. He is a Doctoral Fellow with the Center for Analysis of the Radical Right.

    Back to the essay

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    Works Cited

     

  • Kevin Musgrave and Jeff Tischauser — Radical Traditionalism, Metapolitics, and Identitarianism: The Rhetoric of Richard Spencer

    Kevin Musgrave and Jeff Tischauser — Radical Traditionalism, Metapolitics, and Identitarianism: The Rhetoric of Richard Spencer

    Kevin Musgrave and Jeff Tischauser

    Introduction

    On May 14, 2017 in Charlottesville, Virginia, a group of torch-bearing individuals gathered to protest the removal of a statue of former Confederate leader Robert E. Lee. Proclaiming “all white lives matter” and chanting Nazi slogans such as “blood and soil,” the group was led by alt-right figurehead Richard Spencer. Calling upon a politics of white identity to decry the symbolic erasure of Southern history and culture, Spencer extolled that “what brings us together is that we are white, we are a people, we will not be replaced” (quoted in Vozzella 2017). Resonating with the rhetoric of the resurgent nationalism and anti-political correctness of the Trump administration, Spencer has utilized sharpening racial divisions to create alliances with mainstream conservatives and to help build a powerful political base. Importantly, however, such a convergence between US conservatism and far-right, white nationalist politics is not a new phenomenon. Signaling a long and complicated history of the interrelated nature of far-right racism, proto-fascism, and conservative traditionalism in the US, the incidents in Charlottesville provide an entry point for interrogating the ideological underpinnings and contemporary resurgence of radical conservatism under the guise of Spencer’s alt-right.

    Undertaking a criticism of alt-right discourse we will define and critique the movement through its language, rhetorical forms, and lines of argument. In doing so we seek to make visible the ideological and theoretical underpinnings of the movement, to more properly situate the alt-right within the history of US conservatism, and to better understand the historical roots and contemporary iterations of white supremacist politics in the United States. While the alt-right exists in both online and offline spaces, has several prominent leaders, and contains differing political visions and social projects, we take the rhetoric of Richard Spencer as representative of the soft ideological core of the alt-right (see Hawley 2017).[1] As perhaps the most visible alt-right spokesman, leader of the National Policy Institute (NPI), and with Paul Gottfried, the coiner of the term alt-right, Spencer offers a clear image of the political aspirations of the far-right insurgent movement. Described by the Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC) as an “academic racist” who utilizes his pseudo-intellectual works on Radix and elsewhere to “appeal to educated, middle-class whites,” Spencer’s academic style and approach also help to more clearly map the points of convergence between conservatism and neo-Nazism in the US (Southern Poverty Law Center nd).

    Tracing the history and intellectual influences of Spencer and the alt-right, ultimately we argue that the alt-right is an outgrowth and logical extension of traditionalist idioms of conservatism in the US, particularly post-Cold War visions of paleoconservatism in the works of Paul Gottfried and Samuel Francis. To say that the alt-right is a logical extension of US traditionalist conservatism is not to say that it draws its influence strictly from US political thought. Rather, we argue that not only must we understand how US conservatism was born of European circumstances but that we must also understand the continuing influence of European, particularly French, far-right thought and movements on US conservatism. Spencer’s particular vision, then, is an admixture of European New Right thought with US paleconservatism, creating a unique articulation of far-right politics suited to the contemporary global, post-modern political climate while maintaining a distinctive American flavor.

    Though the lineage is not entirely direct, one can nonetheless trace a jagged seam through various iterations of conservatism that gives rise to the racial nationalism and fascism of the alt-right from the early conservatism of Edmund Burke and Joseph de Maistre. Importantly, we are not arguing that we should collapse the distinctions between conservatism on the one hand and fascism on the other. Whereas conservatives have more traditionally been concerned with preservation as opposed to innovation or active revolution, fascism may be identified with a revolutionary-rightist or conservative position that seeks to reclaim, through violence and insurrection, a past thought lost or destroyed by the political left (see Burley 2017). Recognizing the significance of these distinctions, we nonetheless argue that fascism emerges from the history of conservatism, and thus bears family resemblances that cannot be ignored. These family resemblances remain present today, linking the alt-right with traditionalist conservatism. This position in some ways cuts against the grain of Hawley’s (2017) work on the alt-right, which claims that “It is totally distinct from conservatism as we know it” (4), and resonates more with the work of Corey Robin (2011) who argues that all conservatives and far-right thinkers and movements are united by a common “animus against the agency of the subordinate classes” (7). This is not to disregard the importance of Hawley’s work—for he also connects the alt-right to paleoconservatism and the European New Right—nor to overlook the nuanced differences  among various articulations of conservatism that may be missed by the umbrella definition provided by Robin. Rather, it is to argue that, in fact, though the alt-right may differ from the traditionalism of the paleoconservative movement, it is nonetheless not as wholly distinct from it as one might think. Indeed, we argue that it is a logical, even if more radical extension of paleoconservatism as envisioned by Paul Gottfried and Samuel Francis, blended with the thought of German and French far-right thinkers and movements.

    Our essay unfolds in five main sections. First, we provide a brief history of conservatism, from its birth as a reactionary response in France, Germany, and England to the liberalism of the Enlightenment philosophes and the violence of the French Revolution. Tracing a through line from early conservatives such as Joseph de Maistre to contemporary far-right conservatives in France, we demonstrate that French conservatism and far-right politics have been and remain crucial to understanding American conservatism and the alt-right of Spencer. In sections two and three, we undertake a similar history of US conservatism, paying particular attention to the Old Right and traditionalist idioms of conservatism and the paleoconservative movement, connecting this intellectual strain of the US right to those continental thinkers who came before them, as well as to the alt-right. Section four provides a criticism of alt-right discourse by attending to the rhetoric of Richard Spencer. Deconstructing his arguments regarding the biological nature of racial difference, the imperatives of identitarianism and metapolitics, and the call for a white ethno-state in the US, we demonstrate both the resonances of traditionalist conservative thinkers from France, Germany, and the United States, as well as the ways in which Spencer co-opts and inverts so-called cultural Marxist theory to buttress his white privilege politics. Finally, we conclude by discussing the larger theoretical and historical takeaways of our essay, suggest lessons for opposing alt-right rhetoric in the public sphere, and call for conservatives to be more critical and reflexive regarding how best to excise far-right ideologies from within their ranks

    Conservatism’s European Roots

    To understand the contemporary importance of the alt-right we need to first understand its history and complicated relationship with other articulations of conservatism. Indeed, the alt-right has not arisen in a political vacuum but rather is a product of conflicting visions of conservatism and various iterations of conservative traditionalism in the US and abroad.

    Emerging primarily as a reactionary movement against the perceived atheist humanism of the French philosophes and the subsequent Revolution in France, conservatism offered an alternative vision of modernity that retained a commitment to the religious monarchy and organic social order of the ancient regime. As a broader discourse, conservatism emphasizes difference and division as a means of critiquing the limits of Enlightenment reason. As Zeev Sternhell writes, conservatism emerged to offer a different vision of modernity than that of the Enlightenment. Revolting “against rationalism, the autonomy of the individual, and all that unites people” (2010, 7-9), the modernity articulated by the anti-Enlightenment conservatives was “based on all that differentiates people—history, culture, language” and sought to create “a political culture that denied reason either the capacity or the right to mold people’s lives, saw religion as an essential foundation of society, and did not hesitate to call on the state to regulate social relationships or to intervene in the economy” (8). In this way, Sternhell paints conservatism as a radically historicist discourse that emphasizes particularity, plurality, and difference as a means of preserving social hierarchy.

    These ideas took influence from the counter-Reformation that came before it, while adapting arguments against the Reformation to comport with a more modern set of exigencies bent on maintaining religious authority in the face of the equalitarianism of the philosophes. Indeed, the counter-revolutionary right understood philosophy as the logical outcome of fundamental changes to French values and culture, beginning with the Reformation and culminating in the bloodshed and violence that marked the Revolution. This anti-Revolutionary sentiment remains a central component of far-right conservatism today, illuminating Peter Davies’ claim that “Counter-Revolution is not just a period, but an idea” that has “remained a battleground throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, and into the twenty-first” (Davies 2002, 28). Significantly, as we will demonstrate, the counter-Revolutionary spirit, much like the Enlightenment it opposed, was not confined to France but spread around the globe, adapting itself to local cultural circumstances and political structures (see Berlin 2001; McMahon 2000; Sternhell 2010).

    For instance, in Germany, historians and critics have traced a lineage of conservatism in the aesthetic nationalism of Johann Gottfried Herder, the philosophical idealism of G.W.F. Hegel, the cultural criticism of Friedrich Nietzsche, and the proto-fascism of the German Romantics of the Bayreuth circle, particularly Richard Wagner. Likewise, German conservatism was given a more radical, fascist orientation after the First World War with the conservative revolution that included the likes of Oswald Spengler, Martin Heidegger, and Carl Schmitt among others. Though there are undoubtedly great differences between Herder, Hegel, Nietzsche, and Wagner, not to mention Carl Schmitt, these thinkers offer common criticisms of the instrumental rationality of Enlightenment liberalism, the mechanistic and materialistic logics of the radically autonomous individual, and the historical rootedness of a people within a given cultural and linguistic system.[2] Inflections of this critique of liberal economism in German thought can be found in left-leaning political thought, as well, for instance in the criticism of mass society found in Ferdinand Tonnies, Max Weber, and Jurgen Habermas. What separates the left from the right, however, is largely a commitment to Enlightenment ideals rather than their denunciation in defense of an organic vision of a stratified and hierarchical social order.

    While German thought offers a particular iteration of conservatism tailored to its history and culture, so too does England, primarily in the counter-revolutionary thought of Thomas Hobbes,  the writings of Thomas Carlyle, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, and most notoriously Edmund Burke . Indeed, Burke is a central figure in the history of conservatism in the Anglo-Saxon world, becoming a great inspiration in many regards for the development of conservatism in the United States. Russell Kirk, a prominent conservative intellectual in the US, deifies Burke in the pantheon of conservativism, arguing that it was Burke in his Reflections on the Revolution in France who “defined in the public consciousness, for the first time, the opposing poles of conservation and innovation” (1953, 5). In this way, Burke was responsible for the birth of something like modern conservatism as a conscious and self-aware political position. Distinguishing between the “aristocratic liberalism,” rebuke of “equalitarianism,” and defense of legal order that undergirded Burke’s conservatism and the metaphysical abstractions of Hegelian and German idealism, for Kirk only Burke can wear the mantle of the true conservative (13).

    A pragmatic statesman, rigid parliamentarian, and reluctant theorist, Burke voiced his concerns about the spirit of the Revolution and its promise of social levelling from a uniquely British perspective. Writing against the Revolution in France, Burke condemned with ferocity claims regarding the “rights of man” and the mechanistic rationalism of the philosophes that he viewed as leading naturally to the violence, bloodshed, and destruction of institutions of French civil society. Appealing to natural and divine order, for Burke the equalitarianism and levelling of the Revolutionary spirit would destroy social order and stability, as well as nullify the eternal contract between those who are deceased, the presently living, and those yet to be born. Society, from this perspective, is a delicate organism that binds together all persons in a harmonious contractual relationship perfectly designed and authored by God. To meddle with its inner-workings, to render it susceptible to human fancy and whim, and to reduce to rubble its institutions is thus to go against the wishes of providence. The act of Revolution here is figured as voiding the contract between God and man, consecrated in the office of the king, and also as uprooting society and tearing apart its very fabric. As Burke (1966) claims, the “levelers therefore only change and pervert the natural order of things; they load the edifice of society, by setting up in the air what the solidity of the structure requires to be on the ground” (61). The Enlightenment of the French Revolution, then, renders impossible any sense of stability and order to the affairs of government, replacing tradition and the supposed wisdom of prejudice with continual progress and a cold, scientistic rationalism. Conservatism in Burke thus emerges as a means of preserving and conserving traditions and established political order from reckless innovation and calls for egalitarian social leveling.

    Not confined to a simple political nostalgia, however, the early Right was much more sweeping in its critique of the liberal Enlightenment’s vision of modernity. Writing on the emergence of the political Right, Darrin McMahon (2001) reaches a similar conclusion, arguing that “the early Right was in fact radical, striving far more to create a world that had never been than to recapture a world that was lost” (14). This latent radicalism of the conservative early Right was perhaps captured most vociferously by Joseph de Maistre. Born to an aristocratic family in Chambery, Maistre’s father was a Judge on the high court, and Maistre followed suit, attaining a degree in law. A committed Catholic monarchist, Maistre was abhorred by the Enlightenment liberalism of the philosophes, seeing it foremost as a “satanic revolt” against God’s divine order (see Lively 1971, 9). Influenced by the writings of Burke, Maistre often took Burkean insights to their extreme, castigating the very idea of democracy as farce, repudiating the abstract principle of rights without duties, and proclaiming the inherent virtues of violence and prejudicial irrationality.

    Viewing the violence of the Revolution as a form of providential retribution for the hubris of man, death functioned for Maistre as national regeneration through corporal punishment. Illustrating this providential view of the Revolution, Maistre (1971) argues that “when the human spirit has lost its resilience through indolence, incredulity, and the gangrenous vices that follow an excess of civilization, it can be retempered only in blood” (62). Utilizing the metaphor of the tree to emphasize both the organic nature and rootedness of society in a natural order, Maistre articulates this regenerative bloodshed as akin to pruning by the divine hand of God. For just as a rose bush needs to be properly pruned and cared for in order to ensure its vitality and blossoming in the coming season, society, too, must be ridded of its excesses in order to assure its continued health and well-being (62).

    Rooted as society is in religious and cultural custom, it also dependent upon an earthly sovereign for its continued security and stability. In this way, society is constituted by a sovereign, and a people owe their existence to this sovereign power much as a hive to its queen (de Maistre, 98). Arising from the natural relationship of sovereignty and society is the nation itself, which Maistre portrays as possessing “a general soul and a true moral unity,” which is “evidenced above all by language” (99). The personality of the state, embodied by its ruler, and its particular form of government, is a product of this moral unity. This leads Maistre to proclaim that “From these different national characteristics are born the different modifications of government,” and that to impose a universal mode of government upon all peoples and nations is to do violence to their inherent moral character and cultural customs (99). It is for these reasons—the primacy of sovereignty to society, the particular moral characters of nations, and the maintenance of ethno-cultural pluralism—that Maistre opposes the democratic Revolution of the French Enlightenment. Indeed, these principles led Maistre to denounce democracy as an idea, for as he maintains one cannot have a nation, a people, or any form of political stability without the anterior existence of the sovereign, while the heart of democracy, as Maistre describes it, is an association of men governing themselves in the absence of a unified sovereign (127).

    While there are many ways of reading Maistre’s works, it is significant that many find in his writings early strains of something resembling a latent fascism. For instance, while we may identify resonances between Maistre’s arguments and the relatively moderate positions of Burke, we may also identify a more radical set of ideas that influenced subsequent far-right thinkers in France and beyond. Writing on this tendency, Lively (1971) argues that Maistre’s fetishization of violence, his rebuke of the autonomous individual, and his glorification of sovereignty provides more than enough textual evidence to warrant an “interpretation of Maistre as one of the first in the modern fascist tradition” (7). Thus, while some may read Maistre as a more moderate conservative concerned with social order and cohesion, we may not simply wish away his more radical tendencies. It is doubtless that for these reasons that someone like Kirk seeks to so ardently distinguish Burkean conservatism from German and French articulations of Right-wing conservatism, as it provides a way of drawing firmer boundaries between conservatism on the one hand and fascism on the other. While there are certainly important distinctions between the two, a point we will return to in our conclusion, we maintain that we may nevertheless find in the early-Right and its counter-Revolutionary spirit a common line of argument that connects these thinkers to present day far-right ideologies and to Richard Spencer more specifically.

    Indeed, stemming from Maistre’s early defense of monarchical rule, religious order, and the ancient regime, the subsequent development of a newer French Right was found in the populist appeals of Georges Boulanger, Maurice Barres, and Charles Maurras. Writing on the rise of this amorphous far-right populist strain of French politics, Davies (2002)  argues that the “Franco-Prussian War and the birth of the Third Republic had brought a political realignment, and nationalism transferred from left to right a whole combination of ideas, sentiments, and values. In fundamental terms, the nation had replaced traditional religion as the focal-point of far-right discourse” (78). This growing concern with nationalism as opposed to the monarchy, as well as populist appeals to popular sovereignty rather than a defense of the aristocracy on the far-right, drew from and reinvigorated fascist ideologies in France in order to combat the bourgeois humanism of the Third Republic.

    Significantly, however, it was not just the far-right that challenged the liberal humanism of the Third Republic following the War. Indeed, as Stefanos Geroulanos (2010) meticulously demonstrates, a “battleground of humanisms” emerged in France after the War which saw Communists, Catholics, and political non-conformists, alike, offering alternative visions of a post-humanist anthropology capable of dealing with the failings of political liberalism (28). Significantly, this assault on bourgeois humanism from across the political spectrum in French political and intellectual culture was heavily influenced by leading thinkers of the German Conservative Revolution, particularly the work of Martin Heidegger (Geroulanos 2010). Thus, the far-right and the far-Left borrowed from one another and exchanged ideas in the creation of a Third Way political position that called for a reinvigorated nationalism and the birth of a “New Man” that emphasized the rootedness of the individual. These calls for national and intellectual rebirth often verged on a kind of “spiritual fascism” which grounded many reactionary and counter-Revolutionary movements in France (Geroulanos 2010, 123).

    This kind of spiritual fascism was perhaps given its clearest articulation by Charles Maurras, founder of Action Francaise (AF), a monarchist and anti-Semitic movement that emerged from the tribulations and political turmoil of the Dreyfus Affair. Evincing the admixture of far-right and far-Left thought that marked the inter-war period, Maurras’s project married together nationalism, non-Marxist iterations of socialist economic thought, and populism refracted through a Darwinian understanding of the nation as a vital organism—one that was under attack by a virus of a growing non-rooted Jewish population, communism, and republicanism. Thus, what emerges in Maurras is “an unusual synthesis of de Maistre’s conservatism, Barres’ nationalism, and fin-de-siecle revolutionary syndicalism” that undergirded a proto-fascist vision of a reinvigorated monarchy couched within a rhetoric of civic nationalism (Davies 2002, 86). Far-Right proto-fascism did not end with Maurras and the AF, however, finding its doctrines extended and altered in the collaborationist policies of Petain and Laval’s Vichy Regime during the Second World War, by the French Algerian movement in the 1950s and 1960s, and the formation of the Front National (FN) by Jean-Marie Le Pen in 1972. Though each of these movements is distinct in their goals and aims, they maintain significant political and ideological overlap in their commitment to moral order, a fear of national decadence and decline, and the call for national rebirth and regeneration. Indeed, Le Pen–a former supporter of Maurras’ AF and member of the Poujadist movement for a French Algeria—and his FN party has become a bastion of far-right politics in France. Writing on the nature of the FN, Davies (2002) states that it is “a coalition of interests,” that is composed of “Neo-fascists, hardened Algerie Francaise veterans, ex-Poujadists, new right activists, disillusioned conservatives, integrist Catholics,” and others who found in the party a new ideological home amid the shifting political grounds of the 1970s (125). Maintaining similar concerns and principles of other far-right movements before it, FN discourse prioritizes nation and identity as its primary points of emphasis.

    These emphases have remained central to the FN, yet other far-right actors once affiliated with the party have fractured from its rank and file membership, founding other, more extreme far-right groups that bring together identity and nationalism in a rhetoric of identitarianism. Central amongst these individuals are Alain de Benoist, founder of the extreme Right group the Research and Study Group for European Civilization (GRECE) and GRECE defector and radical conservative intellectual Guillaume Faye. Benoist, a former journalist and intellectual, established a theoretical project premised upon the concepts of ethno-pluralism and organic democracy, which taken together formed an alternative vision of modernity that drew from the wisdom of tradition and Western culture in order to articulate a vision of democracy not tethered to egalitarianism or libertarianism, but rather to the notion of fraternalism. Indeed, fraternity, the supposedly forgotten piece of the triptych of Revolutionary democratic aspirations, provides for Benoit a way of reimagining democracy in a post-modern, globalized, pluralistic moment.

    Opposed to direct democracy, to (neo)liberal democratic projects, and to the social democracy of welfare state politics, organic democracy returns to classical Greek understandings of democracy and re-appropriates, “adapting to the modern world—a notion of people and community that has been eclipsed by two thousand years of egalitarianism, rationalism, and exaltation of the rootless individual” (Benoist 2011, 29). Drawing from traditional conservative critiques of liberalism, Benoist recognizes the radical particularity, historically embedded, and linguistically bounded nature of a people in order to argue for the inherent differences between ethnic groups and nations. It is from this idea that Benoist elaborates his principle of ethno-pluralism, the Maistrean notion that each people or nation possesses a distinct national and moral character which must be protected against the universalism of liberal thought and economic imperialism. Yet, while pluralism of peoples and cultures is a good to be protected and valued, pluralism within the bounds of the nation is an enemy to be guarded against. As Benoist claims, “Pluralism is a positive notion, but it cannot be applied to everything. We should not confuse the pluralism of values, which is a sign of the break-up of society, with the pluralism of opinions, which is a natural consequence of human diversity” (70-1). Pluralism of values stems naturally from the distinct culture, history, and language of a people, such that multicultural societies themselves, and state policies that encourage diversity and inclusion, set the stage for their own dissolution by encouraging the proliferation and confrontation of radically opposed value systems in the heart of society. Thus, the only viable democratic vision for Benoist is an organic democracy capable of allowing “a folk community to carve a destiny for itself in line with its own founding values” (71). Fraternity, in this sense, stresses the familial and spiritual nature of community and ethnic identity, placing belonging to the nation within the realm of biological and folk understandings of shared heritage.

    A former member of GRECE and associate of Benoist, Guillame Faye’s work carries clear resonances of organic understandings of identitarian democracy. However, Faye, along with fellow far-right intellectual Piere Vial, left the think-tank as they perceived Benoist’s commitments to extremist far-right principles began to waiver. Likewise, Benoist has since critiqued the extremism and political aspirations of Faye’s so-called archeofuturist project. Drawing inspiration from the intellectuals of the German Conservative Revolution of the 1920s and spiritual fascism of Italian theorist Julius Evola, Faye’s archeofuturism maintains that we are living in a world of convergent catastrophes that will ultimately destroy the contemporary global political-economic order. Proclaiming that “Modernity has grown obsolete,” and humanity is presently “living in the interregnum” between political regimes (Faye 2010, 12, 28), the only solution for Faye is to turn to an archeofuturism that “envisage[s] a future society that combines techno-scientific progress with a return to the traditional answers that stretch back into the mists of time” (27). Such a project demands political revolution and restoration, with revolution understood ultimately as an act of restoration in and of itself. Such a temporality moves away from liberal understandings of linear progress and toward a spherical temporality premised upon Nietzsche’s eternal return of the same (44).

    Indeed, Nietzsche figures prominently in Faye’s work as he demands a post-human epistemology that embraces an “inegalitarian philosophy of will to power” in order to overcome the supposedly emasculating philosophy of universal tolerance and compassion of the discourse multiculturalism (65). This is imperative for Faye, as multiculturalism, much as in Benoist, paves the road to national dissolution and global disorder in an era of shifting geopolitical realities. An age in which tired arguments of East v. West no longer hold, Faye proclaims that the new geopolitical order pits North v. South, with Islamic cultures posing the greatest threat to European civilization and White identity. However, it is not enough to identify a common enemy of European culture—the shortcoming of Schmitt’s philosophy according to Faye—but to in fact create a recognition of political friendship. This positive “spiritual and anthropological” project places identity at the center of politics, and moves identitarianism into a metapolitical theoretical position. This is to say that before one becomes concerned with ideological or doctrinal differences one ought to recognize a shared worldview that is rooted in a spiritual and anthropological identity which constitutes them as an organic folk. It is only after this organic folk gains political self-awareness that the archeofuturist project of the creation of a new European federal empire can be created as a power-bloc of geo-political force and ethnic solidarity against the global south. As we will demonstrate later, this line of argument is taken up by Spencer, anchoring the alt-right in a soft, pseudo-intellectual ground regarding the primacy of racial identity in contemporary politics. Significantly, this point is ultimately reached, yet through a different trajectory, by Spencer’s other primary influence—the US paleoconservative movement.

    A Budding US Conservatism

    While we can trace a genealogy of far-right thought in France from the traditionalism of Maistre, likewise we maintain that we can trace a through line from a nascent conservative attitude in the early days of the US Republic through to the alt-right. Significantly, this history demonstrates that conservatism cannot simply be understood as a unified historical movement, but as Paul Gottfried and Thomas Fleming (1988) argue, as a series of movements that at times conflict with one another regarding the proper relationships among individuals, community, industry, and government. Rather than speak of a unified vision of conservatism in the US, then, we will speak of various conservatisms that at times conflict and at others converge with one another.

    Such a family history of conservatism in the US is offered by Russell Kirk in his momentous 1953 text The Conservative Mind. Describing the American Revolution as born of conservative principles, for Kirk conservatism first comes to the shores of the Atlantic from the works and speeches of Burke and his exchanges with Thomas Paine on the nature freedom, rights, and democratic self-rule. As Kirk (1953) writes, Burke “had set the course for British conservatism, he had become a model for Continental statesmen, and he had insinuated himself even into the rebellious soul of America” (12). This conservative spirit of rebellion he then follows from the rule-of-law conservatism of John Adams, the romantic conservatism of George Canning, the southern conservatism of John C. Calhoun and John Randolph, through to the so-called critical conservatism of Irving Babbit, Paul Elmer More, and George Santayana. A larger umbrella that encompasses a host of ideological and philosophical positions as wide as pro-slavery arguments regarding state’s rights to pragmatic metaphysics, conservatism for Burke is a flexible “working premise” that at bottom maintains a core belief in the idea that “society is a spiritual reality, possessing an eternal life but a delicate constitution,” and as such is something that “cannot be scrapped and recast as if it were a machine” (7). While conservatives could agree on this basic premise, there were many other issues that created conflict in early US conservative discourse, namely a conflict between the Federalism of the north and the Southern strand of conservatism that sought to maintain agrarian life and an independent political authority.

    This rift within the heart of the early conservative spirit in the US remained a polarizing force into the twentieth century, when conservatism bloomed into not simply a rebellious spirit in US politics but into a full-blown insurgent political force to combat the New Deal policies of Franklin Delano Roosevelt (Phillips-Fein 2010). While the New Deal did not do away with the fissures and cleavages that marked the conservative Right, it did however unite a vast array of intellectuals committed to defining, defending, and conserving more traditional systems of thought against the centralizing forces of technocracy, managerialism, and state power. A reactionary force bent on fighting the perceived creeping statism and egalitarianism of the social welfare state, the conservative movement brought together a traditional, Old Right consisting of Southern conservatives and monarchists one the one hand and a budding libertarian New Right on the other, in order to defend principles of law, order, and decentralized government (Rothbard 1994).

    Indeed, as Michael Lee (2014) has argued, from its very inception, conservatism in the US has consisted of competing argumentative frames that have produced fusion and fracture at different historical moments. Conceiving of conservatism as a political language with which to create and describe society, Lee maintains that this language consists of both libertarian and traditionalist dialects. Holding between them inherent contradictions, conservatism’s dialects embody a larger prescriptive dialectic between embracing modernity and returning to pre-modern modes of life. Stemming from deep-rooted, conflicting epistemological and ontological viewpoints on history, human nature, and rationality, the libertarian and traditionalist dialects consist of opposing value systems and rhetorical “God-terms” to organize their political projects. While libertarian conservatives stress the importance of concepts such as “freedom,” “liberty,” “reason,” “individual,” and “markets,” in the continued development of modernity and unfettered capitalism, traditionalists emphasize the centrality of “tradition,” “hierarchy,” “order,” and “transcendence” to social cohesion and stability in the face of change (Lee 2014, 43).

    Of particular interest to us in this essay are those traditionalist conservatives of the US Old Right. While those on the libertarian Right have largely become synonymous with conservatism in the US, the traditionalist dialect has re-emerged as a legitimate political force since the close of the Cold War. Drawing their inspiration from Burke and others, post-War traditionalists such as Kirk had been largely committed to isolationism, nativism, and Americanism throughout the Second World War, with some openly embracing biologically deterministic theories of white racial superiority, anti-Semitism, and pro-Nazi ideology (Bellant 1991; Diamond 1995, 22-25).

    Writing on the origins of conservatism and the defining principles of the Old Right, Sara Diamond (1995) portrays this diverse group of intellectuals as men who “viewed with trepidation the expansion of the welfare state and some seemingly related trends: racial minorities’ nascent demands for civil rights, the spread of secularism, and the growth of mass, popular culture” (21). Not simply detesting the increasing power of the state over individual freedom, US conservatism also feared progressive policy measures from Reconstruction onward that sought to radically level hierarchies of race, class, and gender that were thought to be part of the natural order of an organic conception of white, Western culture.[3]

    Representative of this Old Right traditionalism are writers such as Eric Voegelin, Russell Kirk, and Richard Weaver. Grounding conservatism in neo-Platonist conceptions of transcendent, metaphysical truths regarding the wisdom of tradition, history, and ancestral knowledge, Kirk (1989) writes in his essay entitled “The Question of Tradition,” “The traditions which govern private and social morality are set too close about the heart of a civilization to bear much tampering with” (63). To Kirk tradition represents a transhistorical contract that binds past, present, and future, standing as “transcendent truth expressed in the filtered opinions of our ancestors” (63). Searching for a higher order based on spiritual bonds to guard against the decadence and rootlessness of the modern world, tradition, for Kirk, represents a spiritual bedrock upon which cultures create natural social structures of political governance. Attempts to legislate against economic inequality, to level racial disparities, or to encourage women to enter into the workforce tamper with this spiritual bedrock, untethering us from traditional wisdom and social structures, leading a path toward decadence and decline. In this sense, as Corey Robin argues, conservatives see in liberal policies and democratic movements “a terrible disturbance in the private life of power” that disrupts the supposed natural order of the social world (13).

    Though a prominent line of conservative thought throughout the 1940s and 1950s, traditionalism faded into the background in the political landscape of the 1960s and the burgeoning politics of the Cold War. The post-War effort, primarily on the libertarian Right, to transform conservatism into a broad coalition that sought political victories and action, rather than intellectual cohesion saw the retreat of the intellectual treatises of Kirk and others. Additionally, the identification of Arizona Senator Barry Goldwater as the conservative candidate to challenge liberal Republican Nelson Rockefeller rebranded conservatism with libertarian principles of free trade in the minds of the broader American public. Thus, as Gottfried and Fleming (1988) note, though the 1964 campaign of Goldwater placed conservatism within mainstream political discourse, it also proved detrimental to the movement by reducing conservatism to a narrow social philosophy of free markets and a pragmatic politics that eschewed intellectual rigor. Led by individuals such as Phyllis Schlafly, Paul Weyrich, and most notably William F. Buckley, this New Right network created a vast array of think tanks, magazines, and other print media that nonetheless sustained American conservatism in the mid-20th century.[4]

    Coalescing ideologically on principles of combatting domestic democratic movements for social equality, fighting the spread of communism at home, and spreading the gospel of liberal democracy abroad, a rough consensus was formed that united conservatives, old and new, in a battle against the perceived threats of a growing state apparatus that threatened individual liberty and communal authority. Capable of articulating the economic, cultural, and spiritual concerns of conservatives across the spectrum, Ronald Reagan proved capable, at least tenuously, of fusing the libertarian and traditionalist dialects of conservatism. Uniting the conservative vanguard and the Republican Party against communism through his rhetorical prowess, Ronald Reagan rose to political prominence, and gained the presidency in 1981. Yet, as Diamond (1995) has argued, if Reagan represented a moment of conservative fusion and ushered in a neoconservative consensus throughout the 1980s, “The end of Soviet-style Communism coincided with the Right’s renewed focus on traditional moral order and ethnic-cultural homogeneity inside the borders of the United States” (2). Championing an intellectual backlash against neoconservative and libertarian philosophies, a group of committed paleoconservatives called for a renewed commitment to traditionalist concerns.

    Paleoconservatism and the Return to Conservative Roots

    The renewed focus on tradition was the product of a careful campaign by a group of self-identified paleoconservative intellectuals that were unhappy with conservatism’s abandonment of its foundational philosophical commitments. Writing to this effect, paleoconservatives Paul Weyrich and William Lind (2009) argue that “one of the casualties of the Bush administration was the conservative movement” (134). Having become recalcitrant in its political successes throughout the 1970s and 1980s, post-Cold War Republican conservatism left behind many of its founding principles in an embrace of consumerism and global free-markets. Returning to and radicalizing the traditionalist idiom of conservatism championed by Kirk, the paleoconservatives refit traditionalism to a new set of political realities, targeting the so-called globalism and cultural Marxism of the left as the primary enemies of a Western, Judeo-Christian culture in decline. An amorphous and seemingly all-encompassing ideological assault on the West, paleoconservatives find the origins of cultural Marxism in the critical theory of the Frankfurt school, whose intellectual project they argue has taken over academia, the entertainment industries, and the state itself (see Weyrich and Lind, ch. 2). Striving to move beyond politics, to undo the cultural revolution of the 1960s, and to restore traditional American values, paleoconservatives understand themselves as in a war for the very existence of Western culture.

    Led in many regards by long-time conservative figure and former member of both the Nixon and Reagan administrations Patrick Buchanan, the paleoconservative camp had its political headquarters in the Rockford Institute, a traditionalist think tank in Rockford, Illinois. Producing and distributing a monthly magazine entitled Chronicles of Culture, the Rockford Institute was founded by Thomas Fleming. Fleming, like many in the paleoconservative camp, was a professor of the humanities and an acolyte of Kirk (Diamond 1995; Gottfried and Fleming 1988). Denouncing the supposed end of ideology espoused by Francis Fukuyama and other neoconservatives, these paleocons saw in the heightened attention to the “political issues of morality, security, and nationalism” in a post-Cold War climate a rallying cry for a renewed nationalism (Dahl 1999, 7).

    Dressed in the guise of Right-wing populism, Buchanan’s (1998) America First politics and his economic nationalism rebuked the supposed triumph of liberal democracy and its narrow association with free-market capitalism. Critiquing large, multinational corporations and the structures of late capitalism, Buchanan advocated for economic protection of vital industries, fixed markets, and protective tariffs to maintain a competitive US economy in a globalizing world. Ushering in an era of global free trade, it was the Cold War mission of exporting liberal democracy abroad that led to the slow erosion of manufacturing jobs in the U.S; as Buchanan argues, “In the global economy, money no longer follows the flag. Money has no flag” (54). Taken further, the global economy of unfettered trade dissolves national bonds of loyalty and patriotism in the name of liberal cosmopolitanism. An extension of traditional conservative and cultural nationalist critiques of the Enlightenment, Buchanan adds that “Free trade ideology is thus a product of a shift in perspective, from a God-centered universe to a man-centered one” (201). Cast as a logical extension of French Enlightenment sentiments, global free trade is an assault on the nation and on traditional Western values. What a post-Cold War political culture illustrated, Buchanan maintained, was that politics was less about a divide between left and right, capitalism and communism, and more so about nationalists and the liberal globalists.

    If the dog-whistle of Buchanan’s calls for a new economic nationalism was carefully masked in a veneer of middle-class protectionism, other paleoconservatives have drawn from Old Right lines of argument that more explicitly invoked biological notions of racial superiority. For example, in his book Alien Nation, Peter Brimelow (1995) espouses openly nativist and racist arguments regarding the assault on the supposedly inherent white ethnic core of American national identity. Conceiving of the nation as “an ethnocultural community that . . . speaks one language,” Brimelow calls for a return to a white tribalism to defend western culture from state-sanctioned erasure (203). Though the sovereignty of the nation, the customs of western civilization, and the white ethnic core of the US are under attack from many angles, for Brimelow the primary driver of these problems is immigration policy. In his formulation, post-1965 immigration policy is inevitably leading to an “ethnic revolution” in which efforts at racial equality are rendered a power grab to subvert the historical legacy of white racial hegemony in the US (203). Eschewing the colorblind and post-racial narratives of the center-Right establishment of the Republican Party, Brimelow embraces whiteness as a marker of political identity. Within his recognition of whiteness, race is conceived of as biological, naturalizing the separation of cultures and knowledges. As he renders whiteness a visible political position in debates on immigration, there’s an explicit rejection of the structural inequalities that shape opportunities for newly arrived non-white immigrants. Instead, Brimelow acknowledges structural barriers that limit opportunities for white Americans and uses overtly racial arguments on culture and behavior to explain the criminal nature of immigrants of color.

    Within Buchanan and Brimelow’s critiques of the welfare state and immigration policy is an implicitly proposed solution of crafting a middle-American white identity politics capable of challenging the hegemonic center of US politics. Articulating these concerns and potential solutions in a more precise and academic tone, Paul Gottfried and Samuel Francis have called for a conservatism that would move beyond preservationism toward a revolutionary cultural and racial populism. This paleoconservative move to an explicitly racial rhetoric ties together opposing forces in white racial ideology, and highlights what Omi and Winant (2015) define as the ‘racial reaction’ among whites since the advent of the civil rights movement. In Omi and Winant’s view, white racial reaction draws from racial ideologies that, depending on the context, recognize and erase racial difference and works to undercut the political successes of the civil rights movement. Paleoconservatives blur rhetorical lines and bring together recognition and erasure simultaneously, using traditionalist appeals to veil the contradictions embedded with their arguments.

    As seen in the paleoconervative call to fortify the racial and cultural makeup of the US, their recognition and erasure of racial difference is undergirded by a glorified view of Western culture. In what can be taken as a two-part work on the loss of bourgeois culture, a sense of ethnic heritage, and localized self-government, Paul Gottfried’s After Liberalism (1999) and his Multiculturalism and the Politics of Guilt (2002) represent the evolving politics of the paleoconservative position. Offering a narrative of decline of national sovereignty, regional cultures, and western society at the behest of a global managerial “new class,” Gottfried argues that a commitment to Enlightenment ideals of rational planning, global cosmopolitanism, and open borders are destroying Western culture.

    In his trenchant, if misguided, works of academic critique, Gottfried maintains that liberalism’s original architects held “deep reservations about popular rule” (39). Taking liberalism to be a unique cultural product, not simply a set of abstract theoretical principles and commitments, Gottfried argues that liberalism “designates not just liberal ideas but also their social setting” and political context (35). This cultural context and heritage, as Gottfried alludes to, is found in a bourgeois political culture that maintained a sense of hierarchy in the face of demands for radical egalitarianism. This primordial sense of liberalism, however, has been eroded and ultimately lost in the name of liberal democracy, technocratic reason, and state planning.

    Giving rise to the modern, managerial welfare state, liberalism’s demise was driven not primarily by economic forces nor by laissez-faire values and policies, but by a cultural logic of multiculturalism. Assuming that cultures are incompatible and engaged in a zero-sum game for survival, these attacks against multiculturalism also presume that people of color “are actually, or even disproportionately benefiting from its [multiculturalism’s] experimental largess” (Lentin and Titley 2011, 110-111). For example, Gottfried (2002) uses the rhetoric of atonement and guilt to argue that multiculturalism is indicative of a logical progression of liberal Protestantism that fashions slavery as the original sin of white Americans. Culminating in a secular religiosity that debases theology and feminizes Christianity, Gottfried claims that multiculturalism is the product of a “fusion of a victim-centered feminism with the Protestant framework of sin and redemption” (56). Domestically, pluralism legitimates the managerial state’s efforts to impose a doctrine of political correctness, and is said to divide society into victims and victimizers. Globally, pluralism warrants, in the name of the welfare state, open borders for trade, lax immigration policies, transnational bureaucracy, and a global mission to make the world safe for democracy, ultimately eroding national sovereignty and the decline of Western society in pursuit of a cosmopolitan agenda (78-88).

    The answer for combatting the so-called therapeutic welfare state, for Gottfried, lies in a resurgent Right-leaning populist nationalism. This program entails an “identitarian politics and appeals to a cultural heritage,” premised upon a “traditional communal identity” (Gottfried 2002, 118). Additionally, Gottfried sees hope in the emergent European “postmodernist Right,” and its political ideology of ethno-pluralism which “speaks on behalf of the distinctiveness of peoples and regions and upholds their inalienable right not to be “culturally homogenized” (129). His political project entails a rejection of Enlightenment notions of a rational world government in defense of localized, communal traditions and shared ethnic identity rooted in bourgeois culture.

    Arguing in a similar vein, Samuel Francis, in his collected volume of essays entitled Revolution From the Middle (1997), paints a picture of what he calls Middle American Radicals (MARs) that have been left behind by the welfare state. The culmination of Nixon’s Southern Strategy, MARs are described by Francis as the former “backbone” of George Wallace’s political constituency, as well as a combination of Reagan Democrats, and supporters of the candidacies of a broad swath of “outsiders” including Ross Perot, David Duke, Ralph Nader, and Pat Buchanan. Portrayed as a “combination of culturally conservative moral and social beliefs with support for economically liberal policies such as Medicare, Social Security, unemployment benefits, and economic nationalism and protectionism,” MARs represent a disaffected group of white, middle-class workers who feel they are being squeezed from above by a corporate and governmental managerial elite, and from below by an unassimilated and unassimilable lower class of migrant laborers and peoples of color that are wresting jobs, political power, and tax dollars from middle Americans (12). Calling again upon the Immigration Act of 1965, the act is cast as a publicly subsidized erasure of white, middle-American culture through the lowering of national borders that links together managerial policy leaders and migrant laborers through the force of state policy.

    As an insurgent counter-force against the state, MARs seek to build a “Middle American counter-culture” that can “overcome the divisive, individuating, and purely defensive response offered by traditional conservatism and to forge a new and unified core from which an alternative subculture and an authentic radicalism of the right can emerge” (Francis 1997, 73). Largely driven by Rust-Belt states, MARs are bent on collapsing the center of US politics and creating a space in which a radical alternative may emerge. Creating a space for collective action in the form of a resistant, white ethnic community, MARs attempt to hold on to their political and economic power by defending what they view as traditional American values and culture.

    Seeking to rearticulate conservatism as a political program devoted to the “total redistribution of power in America,” Francis urges his compatriots to look beyond traditional conservative canons. Indeed, Francis writes that “if the cultural right in the United States is to take back its culture from those that have usurped it, it will find Gramsci’s ideas rewarding” (176). Recognizing the primacy of culture to the development of political power and institutions, Francis calls for fellow conservatives to take lessons from the counter-cultural tactics of the left in the 1960s and 1970s, as well as far-right European politics, to engage in the frontlines of the war for cultural hegemony in the United States.

    The shared philosophical and political commitments of Buchanan, Brimelow, Gottfried, and Francis derive from their shared commitments to Old Right conservative traditionalism, as well as a shared infrastructure of political and media outlets that link them not only with each other but with the rise of the alt-right. In 1999, Peter Brimelow founded the website VDare, a white-nationalist news site that publishes political and social criticism on contemporary public affairs. Affiliated with the site are Buchanan, Francis, and alt-righter Jared Taylor. Six years later, Francis co-founded, with William Regnery, the National Policy Institute (NPI). A white-nationalist think tank operating under the slogan “For Our People, Our Race, Our Future,” the NPI has taken up the call for a metapolitical, identitarian far-right conservatism in the US, becoming the ideological and political core of the alt-right under the leadership of Richard Spencer.

    Spencer, who holds a Master’s degree from the University of Chicago and dropped out of a PhD program in European intellectual history at Duke University to lead the cause of the NPI, along with Gottfried, coined the term “alternative right” and has gained public notoriety as a figurehead of the movement. In 2012, Spencer founded Radix Journal, a publication that describes itself as publishing “original work on culture, race, tradition, meta-politics, and critical theory (About Radix Journal).” Comprised of three “interrelated components,” including “an online magazine, RadixJournal.com, a biannual print journal, and a publishing imprint,” Radix is operated by, and distributes writings through, the auspices of the NPI. Though closely affiliated with paleoconservative thinkers and institutions, Spencer’s vision seeks to push the American Right further by offering a radical conservatism that marries together US traditionalism with the archeofuturism of Faye, and the insights of the German conservative revolution in order to openly embrace white supremacy, vehement nationalism, and biological theories of race. If conservative traditionalists in the past have taken great pains to distinguish their cultural nationalist positions from the more far-right white supremacist groups they helped create, the alt-right under Spencer strips away all the rhetorical veneers of more mainstream conservatism in the creation of a radical conservatism.

    The Alt-Right’s (Pseudo)Philosophical Core: Richard Spencer, Metapolitics, and Identity

    Connecting paleoconservative traditionalism with the far-right thought of Benoist and Faye as well as German conservatism, the intellectual foundation of Spencer’s political project is metapolitics. A self-proclaimed fan of the work of Richard Wagner and German Romanticism, Spencer’s metapolitics is a nod to both the proto-fascism of the Bayreuth circle in late-nineteenth century Germany and to Faye’s archeofuturist identitarianism (Harkinson 2016). A kind of spiritual politics of myth—with myth understood here as a kind of “necessary faith, or inspiration, or unifying mass yearning”—metapolitics stood as a driving force of hope for the national racism of Germany. Consisting of an amalgamation of romanticism, the so-called “science” of race, a loosely defined economic socialism, and a faith in the mystical forces of the volk, the metapolitics of Wagner was crafted as a response to the political atomization and legal structures that marked modernization and liberal society (Viereck, 1941, 19). Likewise, for Faye, metapolitics becomes a way of placing racial and ethnic identity at the core of French rebirth, and as the primary means of combatting the spread of Islamic faiths and peoples from the global south.

    A commitment to metapolitics for Spencer is thus a means of rhetorically positioning himself within the shared mythology of history, wisdom, and culture afforded by the “science” of race, while also standing as a call to continuing the evolutionary process and the dynamic becoming of white peoples across the globe. This emphasis in alt-right thought is placed front and center, as the NPI annual conference bares the Nietzschean title “Become Who We Are.” Yet if Wagner adapted his romanticism to the political atomization, economic displacement, and political crises of modernity, Spencer is recrafting romanticism and mixing it with French far-right thought in order to adapt its core tenets to the age of neoliberalism and global governance.in order to legitimize neo-fascism and white supremacist politics. This project, Spencer writes, requires a replacement of the political pragmatism that marks establishment politics with a “ruthless idealism” capable of radical, structural change (Spencer 2015a).

    As Spencer argues elsewhere, “Politics is the art of the possible. But today the impossible is necessary. And the art of the impossible is exactly the reason our movement should exist” (Spencer 2015f). The art of the impossible, for Spencer, entails moving beyond the structures and strictures of political liberalism to a higher metapolitics regarding identity and racial biology. Indeed, Spencer writes that while “liberalism is about how and what, that is, it is about ‘rights,’ ‘procedures,’ and ‘mechanisms,’ with elected representatives tasked with making judgment calls,” identitarianism is “fundamentally about who (and not how). How a society is to be governed—whether it be a parliamentary democracy, dictatorship, constitutional monarchy, or any other form—is of secondary importance” (Spencer, 2016a). Metapolitics, then, is about a cultural project of consciousness raising, of crafting a narrative, or better, a myth that stands capable of unifying the race and comprising a general will for becoming something greater. An alt-right metapolitical project, thus, displaces questions of governance with questions of biology and racial difference.

    This conception of racial biology leads Spencer to the concept of identitarianism. As the practical manifestation of metapolitics, identitarianism, as its name suggests, “posits identity as the center—and central question—of a spiritual, intellectual, and political movement” (Spencer 2015c). Moving not only beyond questions of left and right, it also seeks to move beyond the nation state, operating globally. Thus, importantly, Spencer argues that identitarianism “avoids the term ‘nationalism’ and its history and connotations. Indeed, one of identitarianism’s central motives is the overcoming of the nationalism of recent historical memory, which was predicated on hatred of the European ‘Other’ (2015c). Rooted in a pre-Boasian racial anthropology, Spencer’s identitarianism heralds the work of American eugenicist Madison Grant who championed a theory of Nordic racial biology as the primary agent of historical change. In this schema, the primordial sense of political identification and belonging is not bound by nation, but of shared history, blood, and ethnic identity. Repackaging his white supremacist politics in a kind of Pan-Europeanism, Spencer can avoid the label of white nationalism and its inherently racist connotations. Approaching a kind of white-internationalism, the shared mythological history of Nordic peoples is not confined by geography but is a kind of hereditary trait that transcends national borders in the creation of a latent, yet unifiable white racial family.

    In the so-called race realism of his identitarianism, Spencer inverts constructionist theories of race making culture as a product of biology. Yet, when determining the borders of whiteness and of Nordic inclusion the racist and flawed nature of Spencer’s pseudoscience of race becomes strikingly clear. While race stands as the primary agent in historical development, the primary agent in the development of racial biology is comprised of a strange admixture of geography, culture, history, blood, and myth (Harkinson 2016). For Spencer, the white race is always in a state of becoming which is at once conditioned and shaped by ethnic heritage, cultural mores, genetics, space and place, and a tribalist sense of collective belonging. Spencer’s race realism, then, is not as static or deterministic as he would claim. Indeed, Spencer’s theory of race is a complex of seemingly conflicting ideas, ultimately comprising an inconsistent and non-developed articulation of the primacy of biology in the unfolding of history (Spencer 2015d). Importantly, however, the power of metapolitics lies not in scientific fact or rationality but rather in the irrational and symbolic powers of myth. To this point, the work of Fields and Fields (2014) illuminates the layers of authority embedded into Spencer’s arguments. Fields and Fields’ work suggests that Spencer’s rhetoric connects to the founding myth of America, the structure that preconditions our conscious or unconscious attitudes and behaviors about groups and individuals. In this sense, Spencer’s arguments are authoritative and made legitimate not because he stands opposed to mainstream political culture as an embattled organic pseudo-intellectual, but because his arguments resonate with the “mental and social terrain” of the US (Fields and Fields 2014, 19). This terrain is mapped by a magical belief structure, what Fields and Fields label ‘racecraft,’ which influences human action and imagination. Racecraft is the massage that kneads race and racism into American cultural consciousness through informal codes, rituals of power, ancestral ties, and blood. In this view, Spencer’s racial arguments and racism are embraced by conservatives, then, not only through supposed academic thinking, evidence, or scientific truths, but through irrational passions; an obligation to traditional spirit; a ritual that purifies American culture for white folks.

    The rationalistic and reflexive nature of contemporary geopolitics thus stands as two factors in stymieing a revolutionary Right. Following Faye, Spencer calls for a pan-European movement, as struggles between the US and Russia are viewed by Spencer as a relic of an “Atlanticist” paradigm of politics that is outdated and ill-equipped to meet the demands of Post-Cold War politics. Viewing current US- Russia relations as a kind of familial infighting between two power blocs of European racial identity, Spencer writes that “the history of the 20th century has been a history of a long civil war, a Brother’s War” (2016d). Rather than calling for what he sees as a “petty nationalism,” Spencer sees the only way to save the certain demise of Western culture in a Pan-European project of preserving and protecting white masculinity (2016a).

    This familial understanding of global politics offered by the alt-right also underlies Spencer’s and the NPI’s repudiation of NATO in a post-Cold War landscape. In a NPI published paper titled “Beyond NATO,” Spencer and the board of the NPI argue that “the geopolitical enemies that justified the creation of NATO—National Socialist Germany and the Soviet Union—have long since disappeared from the world stage,” and have been replaced by new enemies that threaten Western culture (The National Policy Institute 2016). In the realities of this altered political arena, Spencer writes that “‘Freedom vs. Socialism’ is no longer a useful model for describing the ideological and political divisions” of international affairs (The National Policy Institute 2016). Rebuffing claims of the end of ideology, Spencer posits that a new geopolitical rift has emerged that marks a radical split between the West and Islamic Terrorism, Turkish radicals, a Chinese economic superpower, and Mexican immigrants. Importantly, this reconfiguration fashions foreign threats as exclusively racialized non-Western others (Goldberg 2009; Hall 1997; Lentin and Titley 2011). These perceived threats to the Pan-European family necessitate, for the NPI, replacing NATO with a defense program premised on three principles: cooperation with Russia, a program of Western European revival, and recognition of common interests and threats among Western nations. These foreign policy measures are meant to help create a metapolitical consciousness capable of unifying white peoples globally against geopolitical threats.

    Yet, the family figures centrally not only as a metaphor for understanding global politics, but also as the fundamental building block for a white tribal culture domestically. The family, here, is figured under the norms of a patriarchal heteronormativity that posits the stability of the institution of marriage as crucial to maintaining racial health. In an essay entitled “The End of the Culture War,” the Supreme Court ruling on gay marriage is portrayed as a further indication of the decline of Western culture. As Spencer writes, “Marriage must, indeed, be re-founded on a much more radical level than that imagined by the egalitarian ‘Religious Right’ and various ‘Constitutionalists;’ marriage must not merely be ‘between a man and woman;’ the family must become an integral part of the health of our race—of our charge to birth a strong, intelligent, beautiful, and productive people” (Spencer 2015e). In this formula, homosexuality is rendered unnatural and counterproductive to the continued evolution of the race. Indeed, homosexual behavior becomes biologically inefficient, a further usurpation of white masculine supremacy, and antagonistic to the metapolitical goals at the heart of identitarianism.

    Dovetailing with lines of fundamentalist evangelicalism, this position proffers a deterministic understanding of the role of biological reproduction to the strength and preservation of the nation state. As Melinda Cooper (2008) demonstrates, evangelicals have long understood sexual politics and reproduction “to be a project of national restoration,” figuring unborn life of the fetus as a metonym for the potentially aborted future of the waning sovereign nation” (169). While both evangelicals and the alt-right deny agency and bodily autonomy to women in the name of the (re)production and maintenance of the nation, ultimately making “a claim to the bodies of women,” the alt-right does not advocate a right-to-life political stance (Cooper 2008, 171). Rather, alt-right theology is of a political rather than millenarian variety. This political theology argues not for individual but “collective salvation . . . that is both down-to-earth and fixed on eternity” through the continual renewal, advancement, and rebirth of the white race (Spencer 2015f). Eschewing evangelical concerns with the holy sanctity of life as a sovereign gift, the alt-right understands the value of life and sexual politics along an ethno-nationalist logic, enacting a kind of autoimmunitary politics that seeks to rid the body politic of infectious and dangerous elements within its borders.[5] Crucial to this political project, then, is the protection of national borders and Western values from the erosive forces of cultural Marxism, multiculturalism, and open immigration policy.

    Similar to paleoconservatives before him, Spencer sees cultural Marxism, alongside contemporary geo-politics, as a central force behind the erosion of Western civilization, and what those in the alt-right call white genocide. Paradoxically, Spencer also sees an indispensable tool for articulating his metapolitics in the works of Marxist intellectual Antonio Gramsci. Using so-called cultural Marxism against itself, Gramsci’s theories of state power, hegemony, and culture as a driver of political change stand as a useful counterpoint to his and identitarianism. Claiming that the political left has stumbled upon the great truth of the importance of race in contemporary politics, Spencer vehemently argues against social constructionist theories of race and structural racism. However, Spencer’s identitarianism actively rearticulates critical theories of race and appropriates them in the name of the oppression and demise of white peoples.

    In this sense we come to perhaps the critical paradox of Spencer’s politics: Marxism, critical cultural theory, and systemic racism are fictions of leftist social justice warriors and academics of color, except when applied to whites. As we saw with the paleoconservatives, when these theories are applied to white folks, they explain how the liberal welfare state, managerial policy elites, and structures of global governance are systematically engaging in the genocide of the white race and western, European culture. Thus, there is a through line between paleoconservatism and the alt-right in their expression of racial reaction as suggested by the work of Omi and Winant (2015); Both paleoconservatives and the alt-right move between recognition and erasure of racial difference depending on their rhetorical situation. Moreover, both rely on traditionalist rhetoric to smooth over the contradictions in their arguments. Race and racism is something that ‘they do;’ white folks do it so as not to fall behind in the multicultural welfare state that is structured to work against white people.

    Indeed, in his November 2016 keynote address at the “Become Who We Are” conference, hosted by the NPI, Spencer follows the works of Gottfried and Francis, and argues that a leftist hegemony in US politics is driven ideologically by a politics of anti-white hatred and guilt. These logics are buttressed by the press, entertainment and popular culture, non-governmental organizations, think tanks, and a public policy system that, according to Spencer, amount to a “colonization effort” in which “Western governments go out of their way to seek out the most dysfunctional immigrants possible and relocate them at taxpayer expense” (Spencer 2016e). Any who wish to challenge this hegemonic discourse are punished through censorship and stigmatization, deeming dissidents as racist, politically incorrect, and violent. In Spencer’s metapolitics, the primary enemy, then, stands not as the state apparatus per se, but white folks who have, in his eyes, either failed to recognize or have openly rebuked their biological and cultural supremacy through the internalization of the discourse of white guilt.

    As Spencer states in a published version of an April 23, 2015 speech delivered at the 2015 American Renaissance Conference entitled “Why Do They Hate Us?,” “Before we have a Left problem or a Social Justice Warrior problem, or a Black or Jewish problem, we have a white problem. While Guilt is, indeed, so pervasive that it’s difficult to pinpoint, or say where it ends and begins. For millions, who don’t want to think about White Guilt, White Guilt is thinking for them” (Spencer 2015b; emphasis in original). These individuals, commonly referred to as “cucks” in online alt-right forums, stand as the primary obstacle to consciousness raising for an identitarian movement. Rather than embodying the agential, history-making position of white masculinity inherent to the identitarian project, these “cucks” deny their agency and allow the discourse of White Guilt to speak for them, submitting to the forces of the so-called white genocide rather than actively resisting it.

    For Spencer, Trump’s rebuke of “the System” represents a first step in overturning the discourse of white guilt and establishing an identitarian movement of Middle Americans. Indeed, Spencer identifies the most powerful component of this system as its “Narrative and Paradigm” that promulgates hatred and oppression of white men through the cultural logic of white guilt (Spencer 2016d). Trump’s rhetoric is figured as capable of toppling the system’s narrative from the inside, using its discourses against itself. Never having “went through the gauntlet, which impresses the ‘right opinions’ upon potential leaders,” Trump is able to buck the system from within (2016d). Transforming oligarchy into populism, spouting vulgar and incendiary hyperbole, and utilizing his celebrity to run a political campaign, represents, for Spencer, the contradictions that have cracked the totalizing structure of the welfare state apparatus and its discursive force. As Spencer argues “Public relations—and postmodern ‘image production’—is, as Baudrillard observed, all about signs without references . . . words without meaning . . . sound and fury signifying nothing . . . bullshit within bullshit. But Trump’s genius is to embed truth within his vulgar and stupid bullshit: deep truths, sometimes hard or harsh truths . . . dangerous truths” (2016d). Calling to Spencer’s famous metaphorical deployment of the film the Matrix—notorious for its play on Baudrillard’s theory of simulacra— and its depiction of Neo as a Platonic Gadfly who climbs out of the cave, seeing the world as it really is after swallowing the red pill, Trump has seen reality and stands as the leader capable of liberating the masses.

    The rhetorical force of Trump’s slogan “Make America Great Again” is representative of this phenomenon for alt-righters. A vacuous soundbyte of postmodern campaign PR, the enthymematic structure of the slogan holds a powerful and harsh truth for followers of the alt-right, one that harkens to the erasure of white European culture and the decline of Western civilization, calling for metapolitical action. The insistence on building a wall on the US-Mexico border, his conciliatory position with Putin and Russia, and his rampant political incorrectness represent the higher idealism of metapolitics—the art of the impossible capable of breaking “the System” and reconfiguring the geopolitical landscape.

    Despite his idiocy, self-absorption, vulgarity, and propensity for “bullshit,” then, Trump represents for Spencer an evolutionary step forward, an unleashing of the dynamic power of becoming, “a first stand of European identity politics” (2016d). Styled as an unwitting vehicle for the alt-right, perhaps an evolutionary accident of sorts, Trump is the missing link that pushes conservatism beyond itself. He embodies a Nietzschean will to power and a desire to move beyond political liberalism to a new phase of Western civilization premised on white identity.

    The telos of Spencer’s metapolitics, then, is not simply resistance to liberalism but its overthrow in the creation of a white, pan-European ethnostate in North America. This project is not just a return to some glorified past, as it also figures as a necessary step in the continued development and evolution of European peoples. In this sense, the ethnostate imagined by Spencer would be an “Altneuland–an old, new country” (Spencer 2016b). To bring about this state would be to build a territory to protect against the perceived threats of globalism and its attendant cultural logics wherein whites could both “rival the ancients,” and engage in the process of “fostering a new people, who are healthier, stronger, more intelligent, more beautiful, more athletic” (2016b). Advocating for what he calls a peaceful ethnic cleansing, or ethnic redistribution, wherein the powers of the state are utilized to redraw maps according to an ethno-political logic, Spencer strips the politics of diaspora and state power of its violence on peoples of color.

    Indeed, ethnic cleansing is unfathomable outside of genocide or radical exclusionary policy measures that utilizes the state to make certain populations live while letting others die. Here we see the inherently biopolitical nature of Spencer’s alt-right vision. Regardless of its rhetorical packaging within the language of separatism, peaceful ethnic redistribution, and identitarianism, Spencer’s project maintains a commitment to upholding national sovereignty in the legitimation of a racial politics of letting die. As Roberto Esposito (2008) writes on the relationships among sovereignty, race, and biopolitics, “Once racism has been inscribed in the practices of biopolitics, it performs a double function: that of producing a separation within the biological continuum between those that need to remain alive and those, conversely, who are to be killed; and that more essential function of establishing a direct relation between the two conditions, in the sense that it is precisely the death of the latter that enable and authorize the survival of the former” (110, italics in original). Figuring the racialized other as infectious pathogen, this negative biopolitics operates within an autoimmunitary logic in which the body politic wars against itself. In this sense, the state seeks to save its vital nature and potentialities from erosion and degeneration by attacking and removing infected areas to preserve the integrity and sovereignty of the body politic. Under this calculus of power, as Achille Mbembe (2003) writes, politics operates “as the work of death” wherein “sovereignty means the capacity to define who matters and who does not, who is disposable and who is not” (16, 27). The forced displacement of peoples of color from the US through a so-called peaceful ethnic cleansing becomes another means through which sovereign power dictates, values, and normalizes the parameters of valuable life within a racial hierarchy, legitimizing the physical and social death of peoples of color in the name of the biological preservation of whiteness. Indeed, for Mbembe, the central feature of a politics of death is that of territorial fragmentation in which segments of the population are separated and rendered immobile via racial terror.

    Spencer’s call for the foundation of white ethno-state illustrates the imbrication of radical, paleoconservative tribal politics with European far-right thought regarding identitarianism and German arguments on metapolitical action, evincing the complex histories and migrations of conservatism discussed above. Reformulating and coupling the rhetoric of radical traditionalist conservatism and critical theory to fit the exigencies of neoliberal capitalism and global governance in the US, Spencer naturalizes social inequality, and pushes conservatism beyond itself in the formulation of a fascist politics that legitimizes state violence against people of color.

    Conclusion

    Through a sustained analysis of the rhetorical strategies and structures of argumentation of Richard Spencer, we are offered a clearer vision of the purposes, aims, and functions of the alt-right. Additionally, by tracing the political roots of the alt-right to traditionalist idioms of conservatism and their reemergence in more contemporary paleoconservative thought, we can see how the alt-right is a uniquely American political project. However, this is not to deny its connection to a global network of proto-fascist politics, but rather to say that traditionalist conservative thought in the US provides not only clear sites of rhetorical overlap and a veneer of academic legitimacy, but also ideological warrants for white supremacy, anti-egalitarianism, and anti-Enlightenment sentiment in unique and important ways.

    By tracing the history of the alt-right and its dominant rhetorical forms we hope to better situate it within its rhetorical context. As we have argued, the ascendancy of the alt-right is a response by a swath of disaffected and resentful white people in the United States, and across the globe, who have grown weary of the establishment politics of the welfare state and the promises of multiculturalism. In a post-Cold War political landscape, the political cleavages of Right v. Left, capitalism v. communism no longer hold. Additionally, the collapse of the neoconservative, fusionist Republican Party politics of Reagan, its attempted revival post-9/11 in the compassionate conservatism of Bush, and the subsequent disarray of the Republican Right have created a space for a new, populist Right to emerge. No longer content to be mere reactionaries, the alt-right stands, to paraphrase Spencer, as a kind of conservatism with nothing left to conserve.

    Premised upon metapolitics and identitarianism, Spencer’s articulation of the alt-right seeks to legitimize white supremacist ideology as a part of mainstream political discourse. Fusing German proto-fascism, European New Right discourse, and US paleoconservatism, Spencer appropriates and rearticulates central tenets of Gramsci’s thought to use leftist critique against itself. Denying the culturally constructed nature of race and the systemic workings of racism for peoples of color, he simultaneously offers an underdeveloped theory of race that sees whiteness, in many regards, as a constructed product of culture and argues that the state and its ideological apparatuses maintain a hegemonic discourse of white guilt and hate. Yet, these argumentative cracks in his rhetorical world are sealed over by the power of myth—a central component of metapolitics—as a generative force in a unified, organic will of European peoples around the world. The desire and longing for a new politics and a white ethnostate largely calls to the passions, not reason.

    Eschewing liberal rationality, then, attempts to utilize rational argumentation and historical evidence against Spencer is doubtless a futile project. As a project premised on highlighting the limits and contradictions of reason in political culture, the alt-right diminishes the possibilities for resistance within the bounded norms of civil discourse. To meet their hate with reason is thus to miss the point of how their rhetoric functions. Yet, demanding more radical forms of political resistance, alt-right rhetoric simultaneously polices the possibilities of political violence.

    We can see the rhetorical double-bind placed upon protest and dissent, particularly from the left, by turning to the case of Richard Spencer’s visit to Texas A&M. Students, faculty, and community members gathered to create a counter-event intended to demonstrate an atmosphere of inclusion on campus and to drown out the hate speech of Spencer with their own protest. Rather than engaging in dialogue or debate with Spencer and his acolytes, such a rhetorical move engages in an affective strategy geared toward creating spaces of solidarity, radical equality, and inclusion. Eschewing hate, as well as symbolic and material violence, this approach avoids attacking Spencer and rather seeks to protect those most vulnerable to his vitriol. An important and necessary tactic, it can also be easily appropriated into an alt-right narrative that demeans SJWs and liberal snowflakes that need safe spaces to protect themselves from the supposed free speech rights of white men who feel left out and oppressed by the multicultural state. However, it’s not difficult to imagine that a more aggressive and militant response to Spencer’s speech would have fueled the narrative of liberal hypocrisy and intolerance of free speech; a narrative which played out when violent protests shut down a speech by Milo Yiannopoulos at University of California-Berkeley.

    The alt-right’s de-legitimization of reasoned debate, and more radical forms of resistance against Spencer’s call for ethnic cleansing, exemplifies a shift in how white privilege operates following white racial reactions to the civil rights movement. In this context, white privilege is most productively viewed as more than a knapsack of entitlements (McIntosh 1988, Frankenberg 1993), or a social norm (Du Bois 1920); but as a political project. As we show in this essay, Spencer’s white privilege politics is a key rhetorical tool that mediates the contradictions involved with white racial reactions to the limited successes of movements for social justice. Along with other entitlements of whiteness, Spencer exemplifies how white privilege can rise to the level of a political project by giving owners of white skin the right to create, perceive, understand, and circulate structural critiques on the welfare state that call attention to ongoing white genocide, but to dismiss actual existing structural inequalities as politically motivated. Further, this privilege gives white folks the right to accuse people of color who call attention to actual existing structural inequalities of ‘playing the race card.’ In other words, white privilege politics is a project that gives white folks the right to see and not see race simultaneously when pursuing white supremacist policies. White privilege politics helps to legitimate the contradictions of the varied white racial reactions to policies designed to increase equity in society, and strengthen American democracy.

    How alt-right rhetoric transforms white privilege and constrains resistance strategies would be confined to the fringe of US politics. However, beyond Spencer, the alt-right made itself present—at least temporarily– in the Trump Administration (Stephen Bannon), and is responsible for two of the most popular websites in conservative media networks, Brietbart.com and Inforwars.com. These outlets traffic in conspiracy and contempt, and pushed the news cycles of establishment media during the 2016 election cycle (Benkler et al. 2017). More research is needed to understand the role of alt-right media platforms in shaping alt-right rhetoric, as well as how opponents of the alt-right can effectively disrupt their rhetoric. The rise in the alt-right to positions of power in politics and media is exponentially more troubling when we confront the question of what to do next. If resistance to their agenda from the left is watered down, or made complicit, then what’s left is for conservatives to meaningfully and honestly combat attempts to undermine the institutions of American democracy. By tracing the links of alt-right rhetoric to earlier movements in conservatism, we show that the alt-right is not an aberration or deviation from conservatism but an ever-present component of its historical trajectory. Conservatives must confront this fact in in order to engage in more honest conversations about their complicity in alt-right politics, to draw parameters around racism, and to call out contradictions in alt-right rhetoric.

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    Kevin Musgrave is an Assistant Professor in the Southeast Missouri State University Department of Communication Studies and Modern Languages

    Jeff Tischauser is a PhD Candidate in the University of Wisconsin-Madison School of Journalism and Mass Communication

    Back to the essay

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    Notes

    [1] For instance, while Milo Yiannopolous is often touted as a leading figure of the alt-right Spencer labels Milo and other figures associated with Breitbart’s brand of extremism and cultural nationalism the alt-light. This term denotes a sense of fracture in defining the central goals, purposes, and aims of the alt-right project. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Spencer heralds his own vision and that of those affiliated with the NPI as the true alt-right position.

    [2] Indeed, one may read in Hegel a similar call for the total subservience of the individual to the state in a kind of organic unity, while we may read in Nietzsche a rebuke of the state in the individual will to power, as well as a renunciation of Wagner’s nationalism, while in Schmitt we receive a defense of absolute sovereignty in the preservation of divine order and inherent biological difference.

    [3] See, for instance, Thomas DiLorenzo’s The Real Lincoln (2002).

    [4] For more detailed accounts see Viguerie and Franke (2004) and Viguerie (2006). For a critical account of the role of right-wing think tanks in the reconfiguration of US politics see Stahl (2014).

    [5] Cooper (2008, 71), holds that such a position is a fairly common trait of neonationalist reactions against neoliberalism across the globe.

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