Fear and hate
Aug. 24th, 2017 02:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nairiporterThe doubling down on the imagined "alt left" he invented to balance out the alt right aside, it took president Trump at least two days to explicitly name the organisations and movements that drowned Charlottesville in blood and chaos. And just a day to make a U-turn again, and accuse "both sides" for the tragic clashes that took the life of a 32 year old woman, who had come alongside hundreds of protesters to voice their opposition to the far-right formations that marched in defense of racist "heritage". The perpetrator was a 20 year old man, failed soldier, outsider, and someone who espoused radical racist views.
Of course, Trump's mixed messages drew an almost universal condemnation, including from the elite of his own party. Marco Rubio, Paul Ryan, Mitt Romney, John McCain and Steve Scalise all were among the Republicans who said outright that the reason for the violence in Virginia was white supremacism, and the president should not be equating victims to perpetrators. The only public persons who supported Trump's position were the white supremacists themselves, like the former KKK grand master David Duke, and the neo-Nazi Richard Spence who became (in)famous for his "Hail Trump" salute. Things went so far that the White House had to disseminate an internal memo to the Republican governors that declared the president was "correct; both sides are guilty for the violence".
This is far from being the first time that serious incidents have been interpreted by Trump in a self-contradictory, biased way, rather aimed to provoke the media than calm things down, and foster reconciliation. In this case the concern is that his response could only further encourage the far-right. And that is very dangerous.
Because this time we are talking about a terrorist act, or at least a hate crime, Trump's reaction is even more problematic. First, his assertions of a shared guilt between the far-right and the counter-protesters indirectly justifies white racism. Second, his words are doing nothing to close the ever widening gap between the various identity-based factions and movements (be it along racial, gender, religious, age, education, profession, or sexual lines). These have been shaping up in US society for years, and are now threatening to escalate the tension between themselves. Combine this with the forming of "ideological bubbles" on the Internet and the social networks, and this clash of worldviews doesn't look likely to end well at all.
On one side of the barricade, there is a fluid coalition of re-invented, but ever more assertive far-right formations. In Charlottesville, the colourful palette of KKK supporters, openly Nazi websites like Daily Stormer, and the modern alt-right online trolls, all joined forces under the #UniteTheRight slogan. The formal occasion was of course the protest against the removal of the Gen. Lee monument. Trump was so eager to explain that not all people were neo-Nazi there ("believe me when I tell you"). He also tried to use a fallacy by "wondering who's next", maybe George Washington or Thomas Jefferson. We all know the story.
How exactly waving Nazi flags and torches and shouting "Jews won't replace us", "Sieg Heil" and "blood and land" is related to the general's heritage, remains unclear to me. The message, after all, was not meant for people who are well educated in history, but for the moderate conservatives who had voted for Trump, and who are feeling alienated because of the unstopping barrage of verbal and written attacks from the liberal circles who have entrenched themselves in their disadvantaged position ever after the November election. As a rule, when all the fragmented far-right movements and the traditional moderate conservatives are put in the same pot, the latter tend to be drawn more strongly towards the extreme right.
Although it would be indeed very cynical to ascribe equal responsibility to the clashes in Charlottesville to the counter-protesters as well, we should note that some of them, particularly the members of the so called anti-fascist Antifa organisation also used violent tactics. And the alt-right supporters and their websites who enjoy so much presenting themselves as victims, needed just that: an excuse to accuse someone else for inciting violence. You see, those other guys attacked our lawful protest, wielding bats and sticks. "Isn't there a problem with that? There is!", Trump argued.
Of course, white nationalism is nothing new in American politics. What makes the current situation more significant is the fact that people who associate themselves with these extremist views are now in Trump's cabinet, or are trying to associate themselves with it - like David Duke for example. Another new thing is that these white supremacists and nationalists are trying to recruit more educated people, who in other circumstances would never associate themselves with them. That's why much of their effort is directed at university campuses like the one in Charlottesville. The obvious strategy is to take benefit of the disillusion and marginalisation of some young people whose expectations of life are not being met in reality, and who are looking for scapegoats for that.
Except, the problem doesn't start and end with white nationalism - it is a function of the emerging identity politics in US society. Social movements like Black Lives Matter and the Women's March have been capable of mobilising people who identify themselves with their cause (people of colour and women, respectively), but they are also provoking resiprocal identity sentiments at the opposite side of the barricade. There is plenty of evidence that the US society is getting more polarised. The extreme factions on both sides of the spectrum are getting more prominent, and seem more prone to pushing their agendas through violence.
One of the reasons for this is that today, both the far-right and far-left are more visible in society, more vocal, and they have the tools to portray the opposite side in the darkest colours possible. This allows Trump's supporters to completely ignore the problems of the right, and focus on the actions of the "enemy". Suffice to cite Antifa's violence, and find an argument to negate your own. Having a boogeyman at the opposite side removes the need of introspection in one's own problems.
The crisis of the classical political parties in the US is getting worsened by the ascent of radicalism. This is valid both for the conservative Republicans who are unable to capitalise on their domination of all branches of government, and the liberal circles who are unable to re-define their positions from mere "anti-Trumpism" to something more constructive. The further the two sides encapsulate themselves in their own echo chambers, the more the demons of the "alt" forces will flourish.
Of course, Trump's mixed messages drew an almost universal condemnation, including from the elite of his own party. Marco Rubio, Paul Ryan, Mitt Romney, John McCain and Steve Scalise all were among the Republicans who said outright that the reason for the violence in Virginia was white supremacism, and the president should not be equating victims to perpetrators. The only public persons who supported Trump's position were the white supremacists themselves, like the former KKK grand master David Duke, and the neo-Nazi Richard Spence who became (in)famous for his "Hail Trump" salute. Things went so far that the White House had to disseminate an internal memo to the Republican governors that declared the president was "correct; both sides are guilty for the violence".
This is far from being the first time that serious incidents have been interpreted by Trump in a self-contradictory, biased way, rather aimed to provoke the media than calm things down, and foster reconciliation. In this case the concern is that his response could only further encourage the far-right. And that is very dangerous.
Because this time we are talking about a terrorist act, or at least a hate crime, Trump's reaction is even more problematic. First, his assertions of a shared guilt between the far-right and the counter-protesters indirectly justifies white racism. Second, his words are doing nothing to close the ever widening gap between the various identity-based factions and movements (be it along racial, gender, religious, age, education, profession, or sexual lines). These have been shaping up in US society for years, and are now threatening to escalate the tension between themselves. Combine this with the forming of "ideological bubbles" on the Internet and the social networks, and this clash of worldviews doesn't look likely to end well at all.
On one side of the barricade, there is a fluid coalition of re-invented, but ever more assertive far-right formations. In Charlottesville, the colourful palette of KKK supporters, openly Nazi websites like Daily Stormer, and the modern alt-right online trolls, all joined forces under the #UniteTheRight slogan. The formal occasion was of course the protest against the removal of the Gen. Lee monument. Trump was so eager to explain that not all people were neo-Nazi there ("believe me when I tell you"). He also tried to use a fallacy by "wondering who's next", maybe George Washington or Thomas Jefferson. We all know the story.
How exactly waving Nazi flags and torches and shouting "Jews won't replace us", "Sieg Heil" and "blood and land" is related to the general's heritage, remains unclear to me. The message, after all, was not meant for people who are well educated in history, but for the moderate conservatives who had voted for Trump, and who are feeling alienated because of the unstopping barrage of verbal and written attacks from the liberal circles who have entrenched themselves in their disadvantaged position ever after the November election. As a rule, when all the fragmented far-right movements and the traditional moderate conservatives are put in the same pot, the latter tend to be drawn more strongly towards the extreme right.
Although it would be indeed very cynical to ascribe equal responsibility to the clashes in Charlottesville to the counter-protesters as well, we should note that some of them, particularly the members of the so called anti-fascist Antifa organisation also used violent tactics. And the alt-right supporters and their websites who enjoy so much presenting themselves as victims, needed just that: an excuse to accuse someone else for inciting violence. You see, those other guys attacked our lawful protest, wielding bats and sticks. "Isn't there a problem with that? There is!", Trump argued.
Of course, white nationalism is nothing new in American politics. What makes the current situation more significant is the fact that people who associate themselves with these extremist views are now in Trump's cabinet, or are trying to associate themselves with it - like David Duke for example. Another new thing is that these white supremacists and nationalists are trying to recruit more educated people, who in other circumstances would never associate themselves with them. That's why much of their effort is directed at university campuses like the one in Charlottesville. The obvious strategy is to take benefit of the disillusion and marginalisation of some young people whose expectations of life are not being met in reality, and who are looking for scapegoats for that.
Except, the problem doesn't start and end with white nationalism - it is a function of the emerging identity politics in US society. Social movements like Black Lives Matter and the Women's March have been capable of mobilising people who identify themselves with their cause (people of colour and women, respectively), but they are also provoking resiprocal identity sentiments at the opposite side of the barricade. There is plenty of evidence that the US society is getting more polarised. The extreme factions on both sides of the spectrum are getting more prominent, and seem more prone to pushing their agendas through violence.
One of the reasons for this is that today, both the far-right and far-left are more visible in society, more vocal, and they have the tools to portray the opposite side in the darkest colours possible. This allows Trump's supporters to completely ignore the problems of the right, and focus on the actions of the "enemy". Suffice to cite Antifa's violence, and find an argument to negate your own. Having a boogeyman at the opposite side removes the need of introspection in one's own problems.
The crisis of the classical political parties in the US is getting worsened by the ascent of radicalism. This is valid both for the conservative Republicans who are unable to capitalise on their domination of all branches of government, and the liberal circles who are unable to re-define their positions from mere "anti-Trumpism" to something more constructive. The further the two sides encapsulate themselves in their own echo chambers, the more the demons of the "alt" forces will flourish.
