Seeing England flags and bunting today brought to mind nothing other than the racist BNP. The trouble with symbols is that without a frame or context with which to account for the use of this or that configuration of signs, you are left at the mercy of the dominant level of association: with the England flag, it's nothing other than the Aryan ideology underpinning the British National Party.
So it's difficult to 'read' any sighting of the England flag as a value-free statement - free of the pernicious value which the BNP has attached to it. I'm therefore at odds with any strategy or practice which seeks to 'reappropriate' St George as a symbol of all that is - or could be - good and noble about England.
I resent the BNP's smug belief that it proves it utility or necessity by having kickstarted debates about immigration and nationalism (specifically of the English brand). There are a number of ways to approach this.
First is to refute the BNP's claim that it has charged the debate about the kind of issues that, in the postwar world, are taken to be normatively controversial and in contradistinction to acceptable and respectful expressions of national pride. Having been drowned out by the BNP, we have had no choice but to deal with particular issues at a faster rate because of the ugly noises being made by this intellectually defunct party.
Second, there is no reason why a strategy of countering the fascists on the subject of their beloved patron saint (not mine) should involve a reappropriation of St George and thus an artificial augmentation of national pride. This means rejecting not only the idea of the patron saint but also the need for such icons whose very construction disavow their actual identity - in the case of St George, this means the ideological occlusion of his Turkish-Arabic origins.
Third, the notion of a patron saint for England is fundamentally undermined by the factional structure of England itself. All national identity is either a myth engineered by that nation or a stereotype inflicted on it by other nations. England is perhaps unique for its size in being so culturally and linguistically diverse. Regional variations in accent and dialect validate the rejection of undifferentiated language, and this by itself is politically-imbued because of class distinctions and/or geographical determinism. Consider the sometimes jokey assertion of Liverpudlians that they are not part of England; that Liverpool is, in fact, its own principality - something confirmed by the sudden change in accent and dialect as you cross the borders of the city into Lancashire or Cheshire. Cornwall also lays claim to the kind of linguistic and cultural difference that defines itself against the myth of a unified England. Journeying through East Anglia can impart the peculiar feeling that Norfolk and Suffolk shouldn't actually be there physically; it's as if geological history left us with some of Holland. Flippancy aside, there is the undeniable fact that East Anglia is to Liverpool as New England is to New York: they are uniquely different in ways that cannot be accounted for by geographical separation alone.
But all countries contain multitudes, I hear you say! You might think that I have succumbed to the trap of my own argument when citing distinctions within the USA. Not so, for judicial differences between states but also between federal and regional levels point towards the expression of autonomy. This is paradoxical, of course, since no state would repudiate the symbols, ideals, and values of collective American identity, federally determined. So the crux is ideology. This constitutes the sole binding reason for disregarding calls to celebrate St George's Day and, as the Conservative Manifesto pledges, ensure that every citizen in England acknowledges the myth, ultimately, of a coherent narrative by which diverse millions are meant to be served.
Friday, 23 April 2010
Saturday, 10 April 2010
Deconstructing Dave
David Cameron’s article in Friday’s Guardian is an infuriating travesty in which the cogs of hollow PR have been well oiled and ratcheted up to ‘spin level’. The man knows the tricks of his former trade, all right, though he seems to have forgotten the concept of irony that he must have picked up once or twice at Eton and Oxford.
Why bother with irony? Irony’s cumbersome: it demands we perceive the truth and tell it. Naturally, vicious political sideswipes against the opposition favour irony very much; but it is less keen on it when faced with the need to scrutinise policy detail. (That’s if there is such a thing as ‘detail’ in Conservative policy. They’re keeping us strained at the leash waiting for such revelations.)
The article. It welcomes Guardian readers into the fold. This fold, Cameron argues, is bright, shiny, and new: it is ‘progressive’, ‘radical’, redistributive (of power and earnings), full of trust for ‘the people’ (my quotation marks); it is big on society, definitely not big on government; it aims to remake society into something big, in the hands of ‘the people’. Positive words. Big ideas. But these ideas seem too big to be true: they’re so inflated they might pop in response to any amount of pressure. And as we all know, pressure defines our general condition at this time of economic crisis.
Dave’s big ideas make you think this: we’ve got no money, our economy trembles, our power in the face of an unrepentant capitalism even in crisis is minimal and forever dwindling, so what would happen if people find the pressure to look after themselves all a bit too much and need the surety of big government to steer them through that crisis? The big question is this: what’s the backup plan? Can power on the form proposed by Cameron really be devolved to an apathetic, disenchanted electorate facing taxing times? (No pun intended.) Cameron’s ‘big society’ is luring voters down an unknown, dark alley, and I can’t help feeling there’s a beating waiting for them at the other end. (Not even plans for a national civil service for teenagers can erase the possibility of such aggression.) Overall, the policy of rolling back big government to unleash big society is oddly self-defeating, if not foolish, leading voters to consider the point of voting for the Conservatives at all, since their candidate intends to shun power away from his government onto an untested and vulnerable society. What is the point of government if not to govern?
There are ironies aplenty in Cameron’s short article. For the wary, the subtext shouts you down.
“As Conservatives, we trust people – which is why we are the party of progress.”
Even a cursory glance at Stonewall’s voting record on gay and lesbian legislation reveals the opposite to be the case: you can’t be a party of progress if a not inconsiderable number of your MPs don’t agree with full equality for what is quite possibly the last minority group – or the last group against which it is generally acceptable to discriminate.
“Gordon Brown talks about fairness, but where is the moral crusade that once animated the Labour party?”
Labour’s record may not be perfect, but I don’t think you could argue with a straight face and casual fact checking that the party’s ‘moral crusade’ has disappeared. In fact, the Conservatives should work harder to stay on subject on the issues it still finds problematic. Tories, be honest about your homophobia and straight family-hugging tendencies. (But of course the reality of the Conservatives’ attitudes is bleeding through. It is both inconvenient for their party and worrying for us that support for the Christian B&B owners who discriminated against two gay men comes from the shadow home secretary. The message is that this kind of support for discrimination on the grounds of a tendentiously worked-out concept of conscience could be the shape of things to come from a Conservative government.)
“To Guardian readers everywhere, I say: overcome any prejudices you may have.”
Psychoanalysts would call this ‘projection’, in which your critique of and to another is in fact you talking about yourself. Projection and irony are bedfellows. And the trouble is that most sensible people know that the Conservatives are projecting. Which is why it’s unfortunate that Cameron has made these statements in the pages of the Guardian, a paper whose readership has a firmer grasp of irony than the Conservative leader.
But these examples from Cameron’s piece in the Guardian are overshadowed by the shift in contemporary Conservative ideology, ironic in itself, particularly with ResPublica’s founder and director Philip Blond, the intellectual thrust behind ‘compassionate Conservatism’, coining the far too oxymoronic (or some would say just plain old moronic) ‘Red Toryism’. Which demands that we ask why bother being Conservative if the core values of the party are revised so as to reflect more centre-Left (some would think incongruously far-Left, given the communist symbolism) ideals.
Hence the old-fashioned Tory disingenuousness: a little misplaced projective identification (a double psychic displacement) goes a long way with the kind of voter who wishes to change their party allegiances in the same way as they do their brand of corn flakes. We say one thing, but later on, when you can’t turn back the clocks or tide, we will shock you with the reality, the subtext you either missed or cared not to consider. But because we said it was gonna be tough, you can’t say that we didn’t warn you – even if we did wrap it up in the rhetoric of and delusional belief in a loved-up society of unending reciprocity and respect for everything and everyone in sight. In other words: the big society stuff was a foil to incubate our real agenda of relieving tax for our rich friends and structuring society in light of the demands of the business world.
Because surely there has to be an underlying agenda, sourced from age old Conservative ideology: essentially the practice of looking after the business world and the ‘ruling classes’ (these days ‘ruling’ by virtue of their £millions rather than by hereditary principle).
In the fierce light of Thatcher’s ‘there’s no such thing as society’ mantra, Cameron had absolutely no choice but to invert history and campaign on diametrically opposite grounds to 1980s Conservatism. Out goes Thatcher’s mantra of no society, in comes Cameron’s big society: see what he did there? Britain’s most powerful PR merchant has been practising smoke and mirrors. We know this, but perhaps we haven’t realised how deep he’s dug the ditch of credulity in readiness for his chances at the election, after which he’ll dump us in there.
Cameron’s Guardian article contains the familiar hallmark of Tory apocalyptic pessimism. I counted no fewer than 16 negative comments about Brown or Labour – mostly Brown, actually. A conventional rhetorical manoeuvre of deluging the reader with darkness and then letting in the right kind of light is much in evidence. All parties can be accused of harnessing this technique of persuasion, but the Conservatives, being in opposition, have to invoke it more heavily than other parties in order to convince voters of their state of brokenness. Hence the broken record of ‘Broken Britain’. Cameron must believe this apocalyptic mantra in order to justify his political utility. Denial is a necessity in politics; it is structured into the political process because without it politicians would break down as humans when faced with their own failures and ignorance. But Cameron is in denial before he has been given the chance to fail, big-time, on the level of his big society.
“So far in this campaign we’ve seen nothing from Labour but negative point-scoring.”
Did he read through this crap before submitting it? After 16 negative points, this is one irony not to detect so miserably about oneself. Denial, however, has shielded Dave from his own calculated disingenuousness.
Perhaps not for long. Dave is rubbing noses with business and Michael Caine. Dave is ploughing quite an old-fashioned, deadened, furrow with proposals for tax breaks for married couples. In his Guardian article, Cameron attempts to persuade floating Guardian voters by overturning preconceptions via their finely honed linguistic skills: Labour, normally ‘progressive’, are to Cameron the new ‘reactionaries’, whereas the Conservatives have reinvented themselves for the modern age. How progressive is it, then, to keep banging on about the family in a richly heterogeneous society comprised of citizens in relationships that differ in new and bold ways?
Why bother with irony? Irony’s cumbersome: it demands we perceive the truth and tell it. Naturally, vicious political sideswipes against the opposition favour irony very much; but it is less keen on it when faced with the need to scrutinise policy detail. (That’s if there is such a thing as ‘detail’ in Conservative policy. They’re keeping us strained at the leash waiting for such revelations.)
The article. It welcomes Guardian readers into the fold. This fold, Cameron argues, is bright, shiny, and new: it is ‘progressive’, ‘radical’, redistributive (of power and earnings), full of trust for ‘the people’ (my quotation marks); it is big on society, definitely not big on government; it aims to remake society into something big, in the hands of ‘the people’. Positive words. Big ideas. But these ideas seem too big to be true: they’re so inflated they might pop in response to any amount of pressure. And as we all know, pressure defines our general condition at this time of economic crisis.
Dave’s big ideas make you think this: we’ve got no money, our economy trembles, our power in the face of an unrepentant capitalism even in crisis is minimal and forever dwindling, so what would happen if people find the pressure to look after themselves all a bit too much and need the surety of big government to steer them through that crisis? The big question is this: what’s the backup plan? Can power on the form proposed by Cameron really be devolved to an apathetic, disenchanted electorate facing taxing times? (No pun intended.) Cameron’s ‘big society’ is luring voters down an unknown, dark alley, and I can’t help feeling there’s a beating waiting for them at the other end. (Not even plans for a national civil service for teenagers can erase the possibility of such aggression.) Overall, the policy of rolling back big government to unleash big society is oddly self-defeating, if not foolish, leading voters to consider the point of voting for the Conservatives at all, since their candidate intends to shun power away from his government onto an untested and vulnerable society. What is the point of government if not to govern?
There are ironies aplenty in Cameron’s short article. For the wary, the subtext shouts you down.
“As Conservatives, we trust people – which is why we are the party of progress.”
Even a cursory glance at Stonewall’s voting record on gay and lesbian legislation reveals the opposite to be the case: you can’t be a party of progress if a not inconsiderable number of your MPs don’t agree with full equality for what is quite possibly the last minority group – or the last group against which it is generally acceptable to discriminate.
“Gordon Brown talks about fairness, but where is the moral crusade that once animated the Labour party?”
Labour’s record may not be perfect, but I don’t think you could argue with a straight face and casual fact checking that the party’s ‘moral crusade’ has disappeared. In fact, the Conservatives should work harder to stay on subject on the issues it still finds problematic. Tories, be honest about your homophobia and straight family-hugging tendencies. (But of course the reality of the Conservatives’ attitudes is bleeding through. It is both inconvenient for their party and worrying for us that support for the Christian B&B owners who discriminated against two gay men comes from the shadow home secretary. The message is that this kind of support for discrimination on the grounds of a tendentiously worked-out concept of conscience could be the shape of things to come from a Conservative government.)
“To Guardian readers everywhere, I say: overcome any prejudices you may have.”
Psychoanalysts would call this ‘projection’, in which your critique of and to another is in fact you talking about yourself. Projection and irony are bedfellows. And the trouble is that most sensible people know that the Conservatives are projecting. Which is why it’s unfortunate that Cameron has made these statements in the pages of the Guardian, a paper whose readership has a firmer grasp of irony than the Conservative leader.
But these examples from Cameron’s piece in the Guardian are overshadowed by the shift in contemporary Conservative ideology, ironic in itself, particularly with ResPublica’s founder and director Philip Blond, the intellectual thrust behind ‘compassionate Conservatism’, coining the far too oxymoronic (or some would say just plain old moronic) ‘Red Toryism’. Which demands that we ask why bother being Conservative if the core values of the party are revised so as to reflect more centre-Left (some would think incongruously far-Left, given the communist symbolism) ideals.
Hence the old-fashioned Tory disingenuousness: a little misplaced projective identification (a double psychic displacement) goes a long way with the kind of voter who wishes to change their party allegiances in the same way as they do their brand of corn flakes. We say one thing, but later on, when you can’t turn back the clocks or tide, we will shock you with the reality, the subtext you either missed or cared not to consider. But because we said it was gonna be tough, you can’t say that we didn’t warn you – even if we did wrap it up in the rhetoric of and delusional belief in a loved-up society of unending reciprocity and respect for everything and everyone in sight. In other words: the big society stuff was a foil to incubate our real agenda of relieving tax for our rich friends and structuring society in light of the demands of the business world.
Because surely there has to be an underlying agenda, sourced from age old Conservative ideology: essentially the practice of looking after the business world and the ‘ruling classes’ (these days ‘ruling’ by virtue of their £millions rather than by hereditary principle).
In the fierce light of Thatcher’s ‘there’s no such thing as society’ mantra, Cameron had absolutely no choice but to invert history and campaign on diametrically opposite grounds to 1980s Conservatism. Out goes Thatcher’s mantra of no society, in comes Cameron’s big society: see what he did there? Britain’s most powerful PR merchant has been practising smoke and mirrors. We know this, but perhaps we haven’t realised how deep he’s dug the ditch of credulity in readiness for his chances at the election, after which he’ll dump us in there.
Cameron’s Guardian article contains the familiar hallmark of Tory apocalyptic pessimism. I counted no fewer than 16 negative comments about Brown or Labour – mostly Brown, actually. A conventional rhetorical manoeuvre of deluging the reader with darkness and then letting in the right kind of light is much in evidence. All parties can be accused of harnessing this technique of persuasion, but the Conservatives, being in opposition, have to invoke it more heavily than other parties in order to convince voters of their state of brokenness. Hence the broken record of ‘Broken Britain’. Cameron must believe this apocalyptic mantra in order to justify his political utility. Denial is a necessity in politics; it is structured into the political process because without it politicians would break down as humans when faced with their own failures and ignorance. But Cameron is in denial before he has been given the chance to fail, big-time, on the level of his big society.
“So far in this campaign we’ve seen nothing from Labour but negative point-scoring.”
Did he read through this crap before submitting it? After 16 negative points, this is one irony not to detect so miserably about oneself. Denial, however, has shielded Dave from his own calculated disingenuousness.
Perhaps not for long. Dave is rubbing noses with business and Michael Caine. Dave is ploughing quite an old-fashioned, deadened, furrow with proposals for tax breaks for married couples. In his Guardian article, Cameron attempts to persuade floating Guardian voters by overturning preconceptions via their finely honed linguistic skills: Labour, normally ‘progressive’, are to Cameron the new ‘reactionaries’, whereas the Conservatives have reinvented themselves for the modern age. How progressive is it, then, to keep banging on about the family in a richly heterogeneous society comprised of citizens in relationships that differ in new and bold ways?
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