President Macron visits s migrant center, Croisilles, with French Interior Minister Gerard Collomb (right),January 2018. Pool/Press Association. All rights reserved.
« Hello,
dictator! » The president of the European commission thus welcomed the
Hungarian Prime Minister to the Riga summit in 2015. If Senator John McCain had
caused a diplomatic incident earlier when he called Viktor Orbán a “neo-fascist
dictator”, this was just friendly banter for Jean-Claude Juncker. The
contrast in tone of the diktats imposed upon Greece at the very same time by the
Eurogroup was striking: austerity is no joking matter. Just before Syriza came
to power, German Foreign Minister Wolfgang Schaüble warned
that “new elections change nothing about the agreements that the Greek
government has entered into.” For the EU, there is nothing funny about
neoliberalism: economics is too important to be left to the people. Democracy,
however, is worth a good laugh. The burlesque scene in Latvia recalls another
instance of slapstick: in The Great Dictator,
Mussolini slaps Charlie Chaplin’s Hitler on the back: “my brother dictator!” There is nothing funny about neoliberalism: economics is
too important to be left to the people. Democracy, however, is worth a good
laugh.
How can we make sense jointly of these two simultaneous
phenomena – the rise of the far right, in Europe and elsewhere, and the
authoritarian evolution of neoliberal regimes? On the one hand, we have white
supremacy and political xenophobia, from Donald Trump to Viktor Orbán or Matteo Salvini. On the
other, what can be called “democratic
coups”. Remember Greece? #ThisIsACoup: the “democratic” variation of the
coup requires “banks, not tanks.” The same applies to Brazil, from Dilma to
Lula: a military coup was not needed; parliamentary votes and judicial
decisions do the job. Of course, police violence can still play an important
role in the repression of the social movements that resist neoliberal reforms:
France is a case in point. On both sides, public liberties are thereby losing
ground.
Moreover, there is nothing incompatible between
neoliberal policies and far right politics: the EU has now accepted far-right
governments. Compare 2000, with the sanctions against Jorg Haider’s Austria, to
2018, with Sebastian Kurz presiding over the Council of the European Union. Democracy
is not a political criterion any longer. The EU thus subcontracts the handling of the
refugee crisis to Erdoğan’s Turkey and
to Libya’s mafia-like coastguards. Again, France is no exception, especially
when it comes to migrants. It is true that Macron applauded when Trump, under
pressure from all sides, decided to drop his policy of separating undocumented
aliens from their children; but the consequence is that the US will follow the
example of France: children sent with their parents to detention centers.
Sure, after the far-right Lega came to power in Italy,
Macron warned against the contagious populist “leprosy”
spreading throughout Europe. But while both actions were illegal when Génération
Identitaire, the same alt-right group that patrolled
the Mediterranean to hunt down humanitarian NGOs during the previous summer,
decided in April 2018 to take
control of the French-Italian border to send back refugees, the authorities
(whether French, Italian, or European) condoned both. Not only were they not
prosecuted, but those
who demonstrated against them in Briançon were – just as NGOs
rescuing migrants at sea had been a year earlier in Sicily. In France, activists
supporting migrant rights like Cédric
Herrou are exposed to judicial harassment – though the July 6 decision of
the Constitutional Council might finally put an end to this so-called “crime of
solidarity” in the name of the Republican
principle of “fraternity.”
Macron may have denounced Italian politicians who
“betray asylum”; but his speech
was delivered just as the French Senate was debating his Interior Minister
Gérard Collomb’s bill restricting asylum rights. Indeed, he also raged against
those who “lecture self-righteously” about solidarity with migrants: “look
abroad!” That is the true meaning of the Italian reference in Macron’s
discourse: French immigration policies could be so much worse – think of
Salvini! In solidarity with the new Spanish Premier, Pedro Sanchez, Macron went
so far as to propose sanctions against European States who lack European
solidarity. But France had just refused to open its ports to the Aquarius
rejected by Italy, and finally welcomed in Spain. Never mind contradictions:
Macron soon went on to borrow Salvini’s words, accusing NGOs of “playing
into the hands” of human traffickers. The French president ostensibly
rejects the temptation of “illiberal
democracies” such as Poland and Hungary – but Europhobes no longer have a
monopoly on political xenophobia. These days, Europhiles often follow suit. The
French president is the perfect embodiment of what can be called “neoliberal
illiberalism”. Europhobes no longer have a
monopoly on political xenophobia. These days, Europhiles often follow suit.
“Leprosy”
and neo-fascism
How are we to define today’s “leprosy”? Chantal
Mouffe’s “populist
moment” won’t do if we are to take into account both sides of the coin. The
philosopher advocates
left-wing populism in response to right-wing populism: according to her,
both have a “democratic nucleus” since they are both responses to “the demands
of the popular sectors,” “from the groups who are the main losers of neoliberal
globalization.” One could argue (as I have) about the “popular”
vote for Trump. But in any case, today, not only can we see that neoliberal
leaders like Macron have no qualms about mobilizing xenophobia, but conversely,
populist leaders such as Trump, Orbán, or Erdoğan, promote neoliberal policies. This is why it seems
misleading to argue that voting for right-wing populists is “the expression of
resistances against the post-democratic condition brought about by thirty years
of neoliberal hegemony.”
Contrary to Mouffe who refuses “classifying right-wing
populist parties as ‘extreme-right’ or ‘neo-fascist’,” I argue that it makes
sense to speak of a “neo-fascist moment” of neoliberalism. Today, we encounter
familiar features of historical fascism – such as racism and xenophobia, of
course, but also the blurring of boundaries between right and left, the fascination
for charismatic leaders and the celebration of the nation, the rejection of
elites and the glorification of the masses, contempt for the rule of law and a
taste for violence, to name but a few. Contrary to Mouffe who refuses “classifying right-wing
populist parties as ‘extreme-right’ or ‘neo-fascist’,” I argue that it makes
sense to speak of a “neo-fascist moment” of neoliberalism.
It is interesting to read in this light Cornel
West’s immediate reaction after Trump’s election. To explain this
neo-fascist resurgence, the philosopher pointed out the responsibility of
neoliberal economic policies, from Bill Clinton to Barack Obama, that Hillary
Clinton was about to continue: who could disagree? But he also writes: “The
neoliberal era in the United States ended with a neo-fascist bang.” Who can
believe that Trump’s neo-fascism put an end to neoliberal policies? Certainly
not Wall Street.
Contrary to West, Wendy
Brown rejects the historical comparison with fascism, and continues favouring
an interpretation in the light of the “stealth revolution” of neoliberalism
that she has powerfully analyzed as an “undoing of the demos”.
According to this political scientist, “despite some resonances with 1930s
fascism, this libertarian authoritarianism is a novel political formation, one
that is an inadvertent effect of neoliberal rationality.” Such a formation “should
not just be reduced to the idea of fascism or populism.”
This
argument complements Robert Paxton’s:
according to the great historian of Vichy, while “it is powerfully tempting to
call the new president of the United States a fascist,” given all the “fascist
staples” of the new regime, if one takes into account his economic
libertarianism, it makes more sense to call him a “plutocrat.”
Umbrella terms
These
are serious objections, because there are indeed real differences between
historical fascism and today’s neo-fascism. But is this not the very definition
of Weberian ideal-types, such as feudalism or bureaucracy? The terms we use to
think about the social world are umbrella terms regrouping empirical realities
from diverse historical contexts – because of their similarities, and despite
their differences. That is how concepts work.
This is
true of fascism or populism, as it is of capitalism or neoliberalism itself. As
Wendy Brown rightly points out, Trump’s protectionism is but a neoliberal variation, just like German ordoliberalism can be approached as “the
other neoliberalism”, despite differences with IMF ideology. In the same
way as there are different forms of neoliberalism, distinct from but related to
traditional economic liberalism, neo-fascism can be approached in its
contemporary specificity with historical echoes. And instead of opposing the
two readings (either neoliberalism or neo-fascism ?) – why not then think of a neo-fascist moment of neoliberalism?
An
approach in terms of “moment” is a way to insist on the historical logic of
such concepts. In other words, there is no necessary link between capitalism
(today neoliberalism) and fascism (here neo-fascism) – any more than there is with
democracy, of course, contrary to the dominant discourse after the fall of the
Berlin Wall. One need only remember that Tony Blair and José Luis Zapatero,
when they converted social democracy to neoliberalism, far from riding the
xenophobic wave, advocated opening the borders to economic migrants. More
recently, the German
Chancellor was both “Kaiser Merkel” in the spring of 2015 (when imposing
ordoliberal austerity on the Syriza government in Greece), and “Mutti Angela”
in the fall (when she opened the borders to over a million Syrian refugees).
Neoliberalism can go both ways. But these moments of liberal illiberalism seem
to belong to the past. The German Chancellor was both “Kaiser Merkel” in the spring of 2015 … and “Mutti Angela”
in the fall.
Calling a spade a spade
Why
speak of neo-fascism? The answer is pragmatic: because today we need to call a
spade a spade. Refusing to name neo-fascism is a way to refuse acting against
it. The theoretical scruples of a few can be used as a political pretext of
inertia by the many. Euphemizing the harsh reality of contemporary neo-fascism
can become an obstacle when we need to mobilize a kind of anti-fascism that,
far from serving as a democratic alibi for current economic policies, clearly
points out the responsibility of neoliberalism for the rise of neo-fascism. As
a consequence, there is no need to entertain the illusion that populism, which
is a symptom of neoliberalism, might be the cure against it. Conversely, we
have to accept that neoliberals like Macron are no antidotes to the far right:
his immigration policies are not fundamentally different from Salvini’s. Both
defend “Fortress Europe”.
In a
word, there is nothing anachronistic about singing “Bella Ciao” today –
providing that we update its meaning: we should not reserve this anti-fascist treatment
to the current Italian Minister of the Interior, head of the Lega. It equally
applies to his predecessor, Marco
Minniti, from the Democratic Party, and to his French colleague who left
the Socialist Party for Macron’s movement, En Marche – although Gérard
Collomb apparently complains that he is sick and tired of playing the role
of a fascist.
Maybe
these politicians need to be told what they are doing in so many words, in the
hope, if not that their weariness might induce some seachange on their part,
but that ideological clarity will help us develop alternative strategies.
A shorter version of this piece in French was published in Le Monde a month ago.
The Great Dictator.
