A noticeable trait
of some Tories – Sirjake is a classic example – is to avoid referring to ‘Labour’
or the ‘Labour Party’ and talk instead about the ‘Socialists’. The word is
deemed to be, in its own right, sufficient condemnation of those to whom it
refers with no need for further elucidation. In the milieu of those who do
this, it might work, but it betrays an underlying assumption that what the
speaker considers unspeakable is also considered unspeakable by most of those
listening. It is, at best, a contentious proposition. There is a similar phenomenon
in operation on what is loosely called ‘the left’, where the word ‘fascist’ is
often used in a similarly abusive fashion, making a similar assumption that
fascism is beyond the pale for most listeners. It’s lazy – and probably
ineffective.
Merriam-Webster (other
dictionaries are available) tells us that
fascism is defined as: “a political philosophy, movement, or regime … that
exalts nation and often race above the individual and that stands for a
centralized autocratic government headed by a dictatorial leader, severe
economic and social regimentation, and forcible suppression of opposition”.
An objective consideration of the political programme of parties like Reform
and the modern Tory Party, to say nothing of American Trumpism or a range of
European parties, will end up ticking most of those boxes, and leading to the
conclusion that a resurgence of fascism is a real and present danger. But the applicability
of a logically justifiable label is a wholly unreasonable, not to say
counter-productive, reason for applying it. The problem is, in essence, that
when we start looking at the public reaction to the elements of the definition,
it becomes obvious that many of them are popular. Fascist ideology speaks to a
number of deeply ingrained prejudices and biases. Using a label is a wholly ineffective
way of addressing those underlying beliefs.
The commemoration of
D-Day last week has been seen by some as a timely reminder of the cost of
suppressing the last major outbreak of fascism in Europe, with its presentation
of ‘the war’ as a battle between two ideologies, conveniently labelled freedom
and fascism. Not for the first time, I found myself wondering about the
validity of that characterisation. I’m too young to have been around during the
war years, but during a childhood in the 1950s I certainly remember what some
of the adults around me said about it. The phrase, “The only good German is
a dead one” is a phrase I remember hearing a number of times, and the words
‘German’ and ‘Nazi’ were often conflated. It was only much later that I learned
that not all Germans were Nazis (and, in terms of their philosophical outlook
at least, not all Nazis were Germans; some were very much closer to home). The
war, from that remembered perspective, was not some great ideological battle
for those who lived through it and its aftermath, but a battle between two
states which had fought each other in the past. The enemy was Germany, a
traditional foe and competitor, not Nazism. It’s an attitude which echoes still
in the stupid chant by some Ingerland fans about “two world wars and a world
cup”.
The desire to see
the outcome of that conflict as a triumph for good over evil, where the men in
white hats defeated the ones wearing black hats, is natural and understandable,
but if that outcome is more generally and simplistically understood as simply
the victory of one country over another, it can all too easily leave untarnished
the political philosophy which led to so many deaths. The corollary of a belief
that one group or nation is superior is that other groups or nations must
necessarily be seen as inferior. That in turn leads seamlessly to a belief that
some have more rights than others. Pandering to such views rather than
challenging them serves only to validate them, yet it’s where the official UK
opposition increasingly seems to be. It’s as dangerous as simply hurling labels
around.