The way things are now .
. .
As opposed to latterday
Marxists, most of whom at least pretend to espouse democracy, Marx himself had
little time for it, considering what he called ‘bourgeois democracy’ to be the
ideal vehicle of capitalist political control.
Of course, most modern Marxists, despite their protestations to the
contrary, don’t really believe in it either.
Revolution having failed, they see it instead as an alternative means of
achieving their ends, which haven’t at all changed in the meantime, other than
to become infected more and more with crazy liberal sexual politics.
The
program is by hook or crook to get a political majority, and then, usually
using the courts, to go full belt to implement the full Marxist-cum-Leninist
programme, irrespective of the consequences that may ensue.
The
fact is that democracy, certainly as we practice it, can only work to the
extent that there is at root some shared foundation plinth of values, or at
least restraints, among the different parties.
Rather like in snooker—an analogy I have used in a different context
before—parties can twist themselves into whatever configuration they like, so
long as they continue to keep at least a toe on the ground of those shared principles. Should this common ground be allowed
disappear, then democracy becomes impossible.
And
such is the situation we find ourselves increasingly in today, to the extent
that I really believe we are—and I am speaking here of the West in general—in
the preliminary stages of civil war, for there seems no way for any former working
basis of agreement to be glued back together.
Rather
than the ‘preliminary stages of civil war’, perhaps I should speak instead of
the ‘talking stages’; though the talking consists mainly of shouting, and that
coming generally from the one side.
In
such a situation, the temptation is often to retreat back into private life,
until such time as the storm blows over, and things hopefully resume, equally
hopefully, more or less as they were before.
But
such, at the present juncture, is unlikely to be the case.
The
following extracts are from The
Philosophy Steamer, an excellent book by Leslie Chamberlain, published in
2006, and dealing with the enforced exodus of the liberal—and, strangely
enough, the religiously motivated liberal—intelligentsia from Russia, in the
wake of the Bolshevik Revolution.
“No non-Russian reader
and no reader in the twenty-first century should misunderstand what this
offensive against religion, superficially justified as an attack on
superstition, actually meant. One of the
key aims of Bolshevism was to destroy religion in Russia, both in terms of the
Church as an autonomous institution and in terms of Christianity as a source of
popular authority. To this,
Marxist-Leninist philosophy added an objection to religious faith because it
sanctioned an ‘inwardness’ which in turn allowed for freedom of thought. Soviet totalitarianism meant denying
individuals the possibility of a discrete ‘inner’ life. Everything had to be rendered to Caesar. . .
. Lenin defined the modern effectively as totalitarian, and the result was the
banishment of inwardness not only from philosophy but from life itself. It became the task of propaganda and the
political police in Russia to disallow individuality and privacy – the sources
of imagination – in daily life and in the political lives of individuals. Under
the Soviet version of totalitarianism there was no such thing as private
thoughts; no possibility of an inner space in which a man might commune with
himself.”
Looking
at this, is it possible to avoid the conclusion that one is looking at the
blueprint for what was to come to pass for socialism in, say, today’s North
Korea? It is a tradition in the
revolutionary left to blame it all on Stalin; if he hadn’t gained control, then
everything would have been different.
Yet reading here, it is impossible to disallow the idea that, Stalin or
no Stalin, the end result was already written into the DNA of the communist
movement from the very beginning.
The
word ‘discrete’ in the quotation means basically ‘separate’; but equally its homophone
‘discreet’ could just as well apply.