On Sunday, March 23, 1919, fascism was born. It had an interesting set of radical propositions - "On the national side, it called for fulfilling Italian expansionist aim in the Balkans and around the Mediterranean... On the radical side, it proposed women's suffrage and the vote at eighteen, abolition of the upper house, convocation of the constituent assembly to draft a new constitution for Italy (presumably without the Monarchy), the eight hour workday, worker participation in the technical management of industry, the partial expropriation of all kinds of wealth by a heavy and progressive tax on capital, the seizure of certain Church properties, and the confiscation of 85 percent of war profits."
This movement was fundamentally anti-bourgeois, anti-establishment, and anti-capitalist and attracted many intellectuals and aesthetes. Paxton points out that despite the grandiosity of its vision fascism, as soon as it became a political player within the margins of established power, fell victim to the same type of political compromises and negotiations that characterize all parties and ideologies who come to the table, diluting its vigor and the loftiness of its political program. Yet, at the same time, these types of political machinations, that obviously had nothing to do with sentiments of shared or legitimate power or upholding any kind of liberal or constitutional precepts, allowed fascism to strongarm its way into power. This was partly a result of political acumen and partly a result of luck.
Fascist or quasi-fascist movements, (or I guess we should say, those movements that shared similar criteria to be called such, since fascism was not an organized or intellectualized movement in the same sense that communism was, which was preceded by Marxist theory and then deliberately enacted along the lines of that theory) were simultaneously cropping up all across Europe with no coordinated effort. Europe, reeling from the devastation of World War I, an apocalypse-level conflict that demanded mobilizing and maximizing the national effort of virtually all the countries involved, was a destabilizing catalyst, not only because of the devastation and carnage it wrought but also because of the societal dislocations that resulted from the economic wind-down and the scaling back of productive capacities that were all aimed at the wartime effort.
Not to mention, processing the catastrophic results of the conflict accompanied by the long, arduous process of restoration and rebuilding. While the 'winners' of the war were reveling in their victories, the humiliations of other participants became palpable. It was the closing of the war, with all its ruinous consequences and the mind-boggling enormity of the cosmic tragedy that had just been witnessed that made traditional political mores and processes appear myopic and seemingly outdated. It was this, as well as the depression of 1920-1921, approximately fourteen months after World War I ended, that created an atmosphere of despair and, in the case of Weimar Germany, decadence that gave rise to an environment amenable to political aberration.
This provided space, at least on the outer limits of the political landscape, for fascism to establish itself as a marginal player and to accomplish that initial, seemingly insurmountable foot-in-the-door achievement of political salience in liberal and constitutional environments that presumably made such ideological outliers political impossibilities. The emotional exhaustion of war and the seeming impossibility of economic security or success, as well as the national humiliations of entire populations created a kind of spiritual or metaphysical despondency whose salvific initiation would lie in the reclamation of intense feeling and emotion.
Naturally fascism fit the bill. Intensity of feeling, which was usually inspired by a demagogic charisma, paired with the grandiosity of its revolutionary vision seemed like a way out of the literal trenches of post-war ennui. Adding to that were deep misgivings if not outright terror at the thought of leftist/communist domination, which plagued many countries across the West. This palpable fear drove much of the behavior of conservative figures, who oftentimes accommodated or collaborated with a Mussolini or Hitler in the earlier stages of their political ascent to mitigate the possibility of leftist power that was wreaking havoc in different regions of the world under the mantle of Bolshevism.
Paxton centers his historical inquiries on the two most famous fascist regimes (although it’s questionable why the two are grouped together at all due to wide ranging differences in ideology and goals)- notable for having achieved legitimate, long-standing political power in comparison to fascist parties in other countries and also for the massive historical implications of WWII. Fascist Italy and Nazi Germany, with a very brief commentary on Stalin towards the end of the book. All historical scrutiny and theoretical speculation about the qualifying standards for a 'fascist minimum' are set from the vantage point of these two regimes' successes and failures.
In their ascent to power Mussolini and Hitler displayed strong similarities in terms of their charisma and the political tactics they deployed to capture power. Both suffered initial political setbacks, they capitalized on the destabilizing force of mass politics and the limited capacities of the governments to address the political concerns that are intrinsic to democratic rule. They each utilized violence, at least in the initial stages of their pursuit of power, as a mechanism to undermine the legitimacy of the presiding government. After they each respectively captured power there was a divergence in their governing styles, their political acumen, the goals specific to their particular vision, and most certainly in their utilization of violence (Mussolini used it sparingly while Hitler did what he did) among other things - clearly all pertinent for any historical discussion. Paxton's study, however, places an especially heavy emphasis on the prefatory phase of fascism.
Orange Man Bad
A certain constituency of laudable beacons of democratic values including but not limited to: Bush's war cabinet (and Dick Cheney), corporate power, the military industrial complex, Wall Street, Hollywood, and the legacy media all contended fascism had reemerged in the figure of Donald Trump starting sometime in 2013 or 14 and reaching an extravagantly histrionic zenith in 2016.
Leaving the Oval Office in 2020 would be a President that was the first in - what was it? - 75 years or so to not start a war. Scaling back the American Empire for the first time in many decades - Germany, Somalia, Syria. Negotiating peace in Afghanistan to bring a 20 year war to a close. Diplomacy with North Korea, who we were told at the time was a nuclear threat. Withdrawing the United States from the TPP - economist Michael Hudson once called this one of the most fascistic agreements ever signed, which would have trumped national sovereignty in favor of the rights of corporations - an agreement that was signed by Barack Obama himself. He restructured NAFTA, which had already gutted manufacturing and destroyed an industry that provided solid blue collar work as an entry point into middle class life. Finally, during the Trump presidency there was a wage increase for the first time since the 70s and black unemployment was at historic lows.
Accusations abounded regarding Trump's emphasis on securing the borders, which was promptly designated as "racism" and also stood to diminish a pool of an economically desperate, rightless, and underpaid servant class for middle to upper class whites. Oddly (and conveniently) enough, the moral arguments of this particular class of society always seem to run parallel with their economic and social predilections. It's like moral reverse engineering.
Adding to that was the brief "Muslim Travel Ban" which elicited a far more emotional response than the fact that the United States spent several decades prior pummelling and razing Islamic countries - a nation-pillaging endeavor that, for the most part, enjoyed bipartisan support. Besides the crescendo of animus towards George W. Bush in the latter part of his tenure as President for the Iraq debacle, Washington's foreign policy has experienced few obstacles and its continuation was just as adamantly pursued by the Obama administration, who bombed something like seven Middle Eastern countries, expanded the drone program, and engaged in extrajudicial killings with little pushback. The 'Yes We Can' Nobel Peace Prize Winner also laid waste to the North African country with the highest standard of living and literacy rates and transformed it into a country compatible with open air slave markets (Libya). It's leader, Muammar Gaddafi, who was sodomized and executed on camera, was memorialized by our Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton, who, with her unmistakable rictus grin on display, very poignantly exclaimed in an on-camera interview, that "We came, we saw, he died."
So, what am I getting at here?
America, being the de facto global empire, seems to have just about exhausted the mythology of its origin story. It's animated by something entirely apart from what it once was. The commonly-held romanticism of a nation-state bound by overarching and infallible principles forged out of a hard fought revolutionary effort that was so miraculous that its destiny could only unfold according to a celestial mandate of heaven.
Of course, I speak broadly and generally, and there are certain ideas that bind together the whole and that makes us into a country that resembles perhaps the very determined and concentrated effort of a functional alcoholic on our good days (or on bad ones, an ambling drunk), who is so desperately trying to keep up the bad with the good, insisting that they are, in fact compatible, and that the bad isn't so bad after all (which could perhaps be a good working definition for 'denial').
The “Have it your way" and "Just Do It" cultural incantations that double as our ways of life appear to have run their course. Anyone who endeavors to indulge themselves a moment's reflection on the "current state of things" will run into so many barriers for a coherent and feasible future that the only choice is to retreat back into the laughable dogmas of democratic liberalism's infallibility.
To be human is to be rebuked (by God or nature or whatever you'd like to call it), and these overarching forces seem to take great pleasure in allowing us to imagine we've reached some terminal point of knowledge or comprehension only to pull the rug from out from under our feet. To "surpass" nature or history, or what have you, is to essentially point your finger and laugh at it - it is to mock, to assume the position of God; however, it always WILL point back and get that enviable last laugh and whatever appears as success is often only so in the interim - or to it put another way, we're right until we're wrong.
To deny God is, in a sense, to become God and that means, according to Dostoevsky's famous saying, "all things are permitted." But even if we cling to belief - which is an interesting spectacle to behold in the most prosperous and powerful country the world has ever seen - the state arrogates to itself all the hallowed and consecrated authority once reserved for the Church and its intermediaries.
Let it be done.
The point is this: the state is already demagogic, its economy has been refashioned so that government and industry work together to advance their own agendas, the apparatchiks of political power leverage moments of chaos and crisis to capture and extend power. It is deeply invested in a military industrial complex that is used to advance the economic objectives of a handful of powerful industries. It is almost exclusively responsive to the political objectives of the very rich. It relies on propaganda and histrionics generated by a monopolized and very compromised media landscape. The entire educational apparatus is made to corroborate the claims of the state, socializing and disciplining towards complacency. And the technocratic system that's doing all the upholding and enclosing and reinforcing seems to be virtually inescapable.
To live under state power, and certainly to live in the core of American hegemony, is to live under quasi-fascism already.
Because, after all, liberal democracy isn't a political system in any real sense - it was actually just a political epiphany - one that suggested power had to appear restrained and exercised with the permission of the demos. Instead, it's a canvas - quite literally a papering over of the real machinations of power. Its most celebrated rituals like voting and protest are superficialities, and this is the way it carries power forward and maximizes its reach.