RUTHFULLY YOURS

https://www.spiked-online.com/2024/12/15/how-the-left-fell-to-authoritarianism/

We all know what authoritarians are when it comes to politics, don’t we? They are the people who enjoy telling others what they can and can’t do or say. They are reactionaries, the ‘hang ’em and flog ’em’ types. At worst, they are ‘fascists’, a word deployed to describe the most heinous authoritarians. This epithet accords with the long-standing assumption that the nastiest folk in politics are right wing.

Anyone who’s been paying attention to the news since the ‘great awokening’ of nearly 10 years ago will appreciate that this stereotype is now hopelessly outdated. As the recent inquisition of the Telegraph journalist Allison Pearson (regarding a reputedly ‘offensive’ post on social media) has laid bare, the forces of authoritarianism today have their origins most assuredly in the ‘progressive’ or ‘woke’ left. The urge to bully wrongthinkers and silence the views of others now invariably comes from those who think of themselves as most compassionate.

American psychologist and sociologist Luke Conway has been observing this development for some time. Like countless others who write about this topic, he is of the traditional centre left. While he hasn’t so much moved to the right, he has seen how the left in the US and beyond has drifted to the extreme. Seduced by voguish and outlandish narratives about race and gender, it has adopted an absolutist mindset that has little patience for disagreement. Conway’s new book, Liberal Bullies: Inside the Mind of the Authoritarian Left, does exactly as it says on the tin, so to speak. It explains how today’s autocratic spirit derives from erstwhile liberals.

‘You will see authoritarian leftists censor, bully, silence, harass and destroy their enemies’, says Conway. Conway points to the example of Mumford & Sons co-founder Winston Marshall, whose decision to speak out against Antifa in 2021 led to his social ostracism and eventual departure from the band.

https://www.city-journal.org/article/the-civilized-world-seems-tired-of-its-civilization

“Israel is pressed, it is a suffering country,” a sympathetic visitor says with a sigh. International organizations, the intellectual Left, and much of Europe are arrayed against it. American support is shaky. The Israelis are fighting for their existence, perhaps for liberal democracy itself, but “at this uneasy hour,” our pilgrim laments, “the civilized world seems tired of its civilization, and tired also of the Jews. It wants to hear no more about survival.”

The traveler was Saul Bellow, the year 1975. A few months later, Bellow published a diary of his visit, To Jerusalem and Back (1976), his only full-dress performance of nonfiction. He took a stand for civilization in that book and elsewhere, and his claim to lasting literary fame has suffered for it. But the link between Israel and civilization is real, and Bellow’s account of his journey to the Holy Land resonates today.

In this book, as in Bellow’s novels, what strikes you first are the character sketches. On the flight east, Bellow sits next to “a young Hasid” (“his neck is thin, his blue eyes goggle, his underlip extrudes”) who offers to pay him $15 a week, for life, to eat kosher. Bellow befriends a masseur, “both priestlike and boyish,” whose hands “have the strength that purity of purpose can give.” He marvels at how a scholar whom he knows, “a vegetarian, a pacifist, a Quaker—most odd, most unhappy, a quirky charmer,” could “fall in love with militant Islam.” Though Bellow’s run-ins with the likes of Yitzhak Rabin and Henry Kissinger may be of some historical interest, his portraits of humbler men are where his talent shines.

To Jerusalem and Back is structured—if that’s the word—around walks and conversations, drop-ins and dinners, stray thoughts and sense impressions. The book is unruly and disjointed. A review in the New York Times called it “spotty” as a travelogue: “a sharp if patched-together picture of contemporary Israel.” Sometimes, Bellow the tourist is a sedate creature: “The Valley of Jehoshaphat, with its tombs. A narrow road, and on the slopes acres and acres of stone.” Sometimes he almost seems to suffer from the syndrome for which his destination is famous: “The light of Jerusalem has purifying powers . . . I don’t forbid myself the reflection that light may be the outer garment of God.” In all events, the sights and sounds are just a backdrop. Bellow’s attention returns to politics—to the existential dread of an Israel unsettled by the Yom Kippur War.

https://melaniephillips.substack.com/?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email

In 1970 the novelist Saul Bellow, a titan of American letters, published his masterpiece Mr Sammler’s Planet.

Its eponymous hero is a Holocaust survivor who, in a decaying New York City, sees into the heart of things. A calculated attack on a range of liberal pieties, the novel caused intense controversy. Sammler, and thus Bellow himself, was accused of being misanthropic, racist, sexist, and reactionary.

Not surprisingly, liberal literary America was outraged and affronted. Equally unsurprisingly, the book was brandished as proof that Bellow had “moved to the right”. This is, of course, the standard denunciation of irredeemable evil that has sunk countless reputations and careers on the jagged rocks of elite disgust — but is so often instead proof positive of the denounced individual’s clarity of vision and moral purpose.

So it was with Saul Bellow. Sammler is a latter-day prophet, seeing with his one functioning eye straight through liberal hypocrisy to call out civilisational decay.

What now seems all too familiar was all there in the novel — racial prejudice, sexual violence, civil disobedience and a no-holds-barred capacity to give offence, it seemed, to as many hyper-sensitive groups as possible. The premonition of today’s culture wars is striking. 

Read the international sensation already translated into 10 languages!

Unearthing the network that hid the “Angel of Death,” the infamous Nazi doctor who escaped justice for more than three decades. 

In 1985, Betina Anton watched Brazilian authorities apprehend her kindergarten teacher for allegedly using false documents to bury in secrecy the remains of Josef Mengele, known worldwide for cruel human experiments and for sending thousands to the Auschwitz gas chambers. Decades later, as an experienced journalist disturbed by the mysteries surrounding the departure of Austrian expat Liselotte Bossert, Anton set out to find her and see if the rumors were true. She could not imagine how deeply into Mengele’s life-on-the-run her investigation would take her.

Josef Mengele was a fugitive in South America for thirty-four years after World War II, sought by Israeli secret service and Nazi hunters. Hidden for half that time in Brazil, thanks to a small circle of expatriate Europeans, Mengele created his own paradise where he could speak German with new friends, maintain his beliefs, stay one step ahead of the global manhunt, and avoid answering for his crimes. 

Translated from the Brazilian Tropical Bavaria edition and based on extensive research, including revelatory interviews and never-before-seen letters and photos, Hiding Mengele is a suspenseful narrative not only haunted by the doctor’s horrific actions but also by the motivations driving a community to protect an evil man. 

The political left has an urgent and rising problem with authoritarianism. An alarmingly high percentage of self-identified progressives are punitive, bullying, and intolerant of disagreement— and the problem is getting worse. As social psychologist Luke Conway demonstrates, it’ s not just right-wing extremists who long for an authority figure to crush their enemies, silence opponents, and restore order; it’ s also those who preach “ be kind” and celebrate their “ inclusivity.” A persistent proportion of left-wingers demonstrate authoritarian tendencies, and they’ re becoming more emboldened as they gain cultural and political power. On a range of scientific and social issues, they are increasingly advocating censorship over free debate, disregarding the rule of law, and dehumanizing their opponents. These tendencies are part of an accelerating “ threat circle” of mutual hatred and fear between left and right that could tear apart our basic democratic norms. Concluding with an eloquent call for firm but rational resistance to this rising tide of liberal bullying, Conway presents a path forward that no one concerned about our hyper-partisan political arena can afford to ignore.

https://www.spiked-online.com/2024/11/03/israel-is-not-a-settler-colonial-state/

Portraying Israel as a colonial imposition on indigenous people, a ‘settler state’ expropriating their land and culture, is a major pillar of Israelophobia. As I explain in Israelophobia: The Newest Version of the Oldest Hatred and What To Do About It, it is rooted in the suggestion that Jews have no place in the Middle East and are alien to the region, a claim that is easily dismissed with even the briefest look at history. Yet the demonisation persists.

Take Akub, a fashionable Palestinian restaurant in London’s Notting Hill. It is more than just a high-end eatery. In an interview with the New York Times in 2022, its French-trained chef and founder, Fadi Kattan, said his mission was to ‘reclaim a cuisine that is part of a broader Arab tradition involving foods like hummus, falafel, tabbouleh, fattoush and shawarma, that he felt was being co-opted by Israeli cooks’. It seems that whereas normal people cook food, in the eyes of Kattan, Israelis ‘co-opt’ it. This position relies on a highly selective view of history. As one reader remarked in the comments section: ‘Jews have also been making these foods for centuries and have appropriated nothing. There’s been a continuous Jewish presence in the land of Israel for thousands of years. What’s more, many of these foods are not limited to the land of Israel, but common across the former Ottoman Empire.’

People often forget that Judaism is two millennia older than Islam and 1,500 years older than Christianity. Israel was the cradle of Jewish civilisation. At least a thousand years before the birth of Jesus Christ, Jerusalem’s most famous Jew, King David, made the city the capital of the Land of Israel. It has been home to greater or lesser numbers of Jews – the very word ‘Jew’ is a shortening of Judea, the ancient kingdom radiating from Jerusalem in the Iron Age – in Jerusalem ever since.

Culturally, Jews have always intertwined their identity with the land of Israel, particularly since they were exiled to Babylon around 598 BC, when their powerful yearning for return took hold. For millennia, Jews in the diaspora have prayed facing towards the Holy City, exclaimed ‘next year in Jerusalem’ at Passover, mourned the destruction of the Temple by breaking a glass at weddings, longed to be buried there, prayed at the remaining walls of the destroyed Temple, and visited on pilgrimage. Many throughout history have taken the step of uprooting their families and returning to their homeland. All these practices continue to this day.

A thread can be traced backwards through Jewish history that shows the ancient roots of the ideal of repatriation. Beginning in 1516, Palestine – as it had been renamed by the Romans – fell under Ottoman rule, which would last for more than 400 years. Less than 50 years after the conquest, Joseph Nasi, the Duke of Naxos, a Portuguese Jewish diplomat favoured by the Ottomans, attempted to return Jews to their homeland without regard for scriptural prophecies about awaiting the coming of the messiah. In a way, he was the first Zionist.