On Human Rights (3)
As I’ve said, the plethora
of new rights and the demand for such rights is exponentially increasing. But then it is pushing at an open door—or rather
at the aperture of a door that has been lifted off its hinges and left standing
against the wall.
I
remember back in the 1960s there was something on BBC called The Simon Dee
Show, one episode of which included a sketch of a prosperous upper-class
toff learning to speak cockney. And it
has stuck in my mind ever since, because it was illustrative of the collapse in
self-belief and self-confidence that was affecting authority at the time.
And
it is really no different now. We have
an authority without confidence or bottle, terrified of taking decisions and
risking unpopularity, and forever unwilling to go against the crowd. Rather all the time courting the crowd, in
pursuit of a sort of unctuous mateyness, a version of the Clintonian ‘we feel
your pain’.
But
then this is a common feature of societies and civilisations in the process of going
to the dogs, an inability to govern in a serious manner and an unwillingness to
confront the various forces, who, under the guise of democratic reforms and general
do-goodery, are really involved, whether they realise it or not, in pulling
society down in the interests of some variant on the classless version.
Over
the past decades, campaigning and activist forces have increasingly sought to
change the political and social nature of the world we live in, aided by governments
and elites seemingly ever more desperate to divest themselves of responsibility.
Everything
from the matter of victim impact statements—introduced in the early 1990s, in
response to, as the Irish Times described it, ‘the victim’s rights movement which gained momentum in the
1980s’—up to the complete and abject surrender of responsibility involved
in the so-called ‘citizen’s assemblies’.
The most pernicious weapon of all has been the
drive for an abstract, absolute and radical equality, which no matter what way
you look at it represents a ruthless race to the bottom. It is this that has progressively hollowed
out the traditional institutions of the state, in such a way as to make the
damage generally invisible until it comes near the moment of collapse.
I can remember at the time of the ‘London
Spring’, in 2011, watching helicopter footage of a mob confronting two lines of
police, who could be seen wavering every time the crowd threatened to attack,
so that there was little doubt as to who was likely to break first, should push
come to shove.
The police involved were no doubt a representative
sample of the ‘Uncle Tom Cobley and all’ diversity that was being imposed on
forces at the time—save that they quite obviously lacked the grit and physical
presence for the role they were being asked to play.
One could go on and on . . .