This section includes book notes of 150-300 words as well as some book reviews of 600-900 words on books of particular interest to the members of our group. If you have either suggestions for books you would like to review or see reviewed (including recent books of your own), please contact Cas Mudde.
Book Notes Roger Eatwell and Cas Mudde (eds.), Western Democracies and the New Extreme Right Challenge, London: Routledge, 2004, 216 pp., GBP 65.00, ISBN 04-1536-9711 (hbk). Reviewed by Lee McGowan (Queen’s University Belfast) This book handles an increasingly salient area for students of politics, namely the persistence and advances of the extreme right across Europe and the US over the last two decades. It is structured with three main pertinent research questions in mind, which focus on conceptions of democracy, the forms of the new extremism in Europe and the US, and, particularly, how democracies are responding to the augmenting trend of such extremist movements. This edited work of eight chapters is very well written and the material covered is highly informative. The work, following an excellent introduction into issues of terminology (very useful for students), has been divided into two main parts. In the first, attention is given mainly to the rise of extremism in both England and the US, with coverage given also to the changing discourse over the years in selected continental European states. Although these chapters provide welcome overviews of current developments, especially the one focusing on the BNP and its ‘modernisation’ agenda, and another one giving historical insights into the inter-war period, the distinctiveness of this volume is located within the final four chapters that centre on the role and response of the wider society to right-wing extremist movements. This raises some crucial questions: How should the extreme right be dealt with? Are bans effective or do they simply contribute to the creation of more militant organisations? Should anti-democratic forces be allowed the same rights as other groups and parties? More worryingly, has a window of opportunity opened for populist groups and slogans that appeal more to the average voter than the established political parties do? In short, a highly valuable book for students of political extremism.
Oliver Geden, Männlichkeitskonstruktionen in der Freiheitlichen Partei Österreichs. Eine qualitativ-empirische Untersuchung, Opladen: Leske + Budrich, 2004, 133 pp., 14.90 EUR, ISBN 3-8100-4100-9 (pbk). Reviewed by Andreas Klärner (Hamburg Institute for Social Research) Up to now, there is hardly any qualitative research being done on right-wing extremist organizations. We don’t have much scientific knowledge about the daily routines of
“doing politics” in these specific life-worlds. There is also little research concerning the “gendered substructure” of right-wing extremist parties. Most of the studies focus on women’s roles in such organizations, but the vast majority of its members and supporters, namely men, is seldom analyzed. In his inspiring study, Oliver Geden explores a rather difficult field of research, examining in which way one of the most successful right-wing populist parties in Europe, the Austrian Freedom Party (FPÖ), is constructing masculinity. Geden analyzes the masculinity discourse in two periodicals, the party organ Neue Freie Zeitung, and the right-wing intellectual journal Zur Zeit. He also conducts group discussions with officials of the party’s youth organization in order to reconstruct what masculinity means to them in their everyday life, within the party as well as beyond. Furthermore, he reflects on the specific conditions of qualitative research in right-wing extremist organizations, particularly on the handling of access restrictions and the requirements of research ethics. Geden shows that all the three masculinity discourses are based on the concept of “gender dualism”, in which men are placed within the public sphere, while women should be primarily responsible for reproduction. Particularly, the group discussions display that this describes rather a cultural ideal than an actual way of life, but this ideal seems to be very attractive for men, who feel uncomfortable about the ongoing transformation of gender roles.
Julie V. Gottlieb and Thomas P. Linehan (eds), The Culture of Fascism: Visions of the Far Right in Britain, London and New York; I. B. Tauris, 2004, 254 pp, GBP 16.95, ISBN 1-86064-798-7 hbk / GBP 45.00, ISBN 1-86064-799-5 pbk. Reviewed by Nigel Copsey (University of Teesside) A new development that has characterised the recent historiography of fascist studies has been the ‘turn to culture’. This volume extends this ‘primacy of culture’ thesis to the history of Britain’s far Right. It is a lively volume that offers a variety of rich insights into the cultural concerns of Britain’s fascists. After a first chapter on the British Right and feminised images of women in the prefascist period, Linehan moves us on to inter-war cinema, that ‘dangerous site of seduction’ that fascists saw as ‘emblematic of encroaching decadence’. Never dull, Griffin explores the BUF’s response to theatre and music, while Thurlow skilfully negotiates the differences between those racial nationalists who argued that ‘race’ determined culture and the Mosleyites who saw culture as a synthesis of neoLamarckianism and Spenglerian cultural morphology. The second part of the volume concentrates on cultural production originating from the fascists themselves. Gottlieb looks at constructions of masculinity, while Coupland examines the BUF’s sartorial culture. There is also a cultural reading of an open-air rally
held by the BUF in Manchester in 1934, which turns out to be something of a damp squib. Woodbridge then takes us beyond 1945 with an examination of the continuity of fascism’s cultural crusade. The last part explores cultural exchange between domestic fascists and their foreign counterparts. There are chapters covering Anglo-Italian fascist solidarity (Baldoli) and the influence of the French extreme Right on the British Right (Griffiths). The indigenous ‘back-to-the land’ movement, and a reminder by Stone that there was more to British fascism than the black-shirts of the BUF, is where we finish. All in all, this volume deserves praise - a valuable and wide-ranging contribution to our understanding of British fascism as a cultural phenomenon.
Pedro Ibarra (ed.), Social Movements and Democracy, New York and Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003, 238 pp., GBP 32.50, ISBN 0-312-29318-6 (hbk). Reviewed by Sarah de Lange (University of Antwerp) This edited volume brings together some of the most outstanding scholars in the field of social movements. The aim of the book is to link social movements to the new challenges to democracy, like globalization, the fragmentation of post-modernity, and the emergence of new collective identities. Emphasis is put on the dual relationship that social movements have with democracy. On the one hand social movements challenge democracy by their demands for change, while on the other hand democracy is strengthened by the voice social movements give to new opinions in society. The volume excels in its diversity. It offers theoretical frameworks for the study of social movements (e.g. Mario Diani on leadership in social movements, Klaus Eder on identity mobilization, and Herbert Kitschelt on social movements, interest groups, and political parties), descriptions of social movements in specific countries (e.g. Donatella della Porta on Italy, Christopher Rootes on the UK, and R. Gomà et al. on Spain), and analyses of international developments that strongly impact on social movement (e.g. Hanspeter Kriesi and Dieter Rucht on globalization). The chapters are put into perspective by a synthetic introduction by the editor. Although the chapters offer an interesting view of the state of the art of social movement studies, the topic of the volume – the relationship between social movements and democracy – often remains secondary to the analyses of the authors. Various authors use the concept of democracy in a rather eclectic way. Therefore the main argument of the volume remains obscure.
Book Reviews
Michael Barkun, A Culture of Conspiracy: Apocalyptic Visions in Contemporary America, Berkeley: University of California Press, 2003, 255 pp., GBP 15.95/USD 24.95, ISBN 0-520-23805-2 (hbk). Reviewed by Aaron Winter (University of Sussex) Michael Barkun’s latest book, A Culture of Conspiracy: Apocalyptic Visions in Contemporary America, is a welcome addition to his impressive body of work on religion and the racist right and millenarianism. Traditionally, work on conspiracy theory has focused on a particular manifestation, and defined the phenomenon accordingly. Such work has, for the most part, been split between that on racist and anti-Semitic right-wing conspiracism on the social and political ‘fringes’ or that on conspiracy theory as a popular cultural phenomenon, which has enjoyed mainstream prominence with the success of the X-Files. For Barkun, the central issue is not such divisions but both the relationship between conspiracy theories and theorists concerned with the world of politics and history, as well as inner and outer spaceand the growing mainstream significance of conspiracy theory and millenarianism in contemporary America. In this book, Barkun examines the connections and cross-fertilisation of theories and themes between right-wing conspiracy theorists, Christian Millenarianists, UFO believers and occultists. In the eight chapters that comprise this book, Barkun examines what he argues have been seen as diverse strands of conspiracy theory and theorist and explores a range of issues and cases that connect them, including: the nature of conspiracy belief, the relationship between millenarianism and conspiracy theory as forms of stigmatised knowledge, the relationship between New World Order theories, the Illuminati and fears of surveillance and mind control, the relationship between conspiracy theory and Armageddon, UFO theories and their relationship to the New World Order, anti-Catholicism, anti-Masonry and anti-Semitism, the proliferation of conspiracy theories in the aftermath of 9/11 and, in conclusion, the relationship between UFO conspiracy theories and millenarianism. In a context where the association between conspiracy theory and its particular manifestations have polarised the discussion and debate, by examining the relationship between seemingly diverse strands of theory and theorist, Barkun’s work extends established boundaries and thus expands our understanding of the phenomenon. Yet, in such a context, there is also a problem in extending these boundaries, as Barkun does, by using stigmatised ‘fringe’ forms and subcultures as a point of departure to gauge the diversity and ‘mainstreaming’ trajectory of conspiracy theory itself, as opposed to examining such conspiracy theories as part of a wider historical and cultural phenomenon or examining already mainstream forms. Particularly, as Peter Knight and Mark Fenster have argued, the phenomenon existed both inside and outside the mainstream well before the success of X-Files and beyond the limits of its association with ‘fringe’ elements. In conclusion, this book is a welcome contribution to the growing body of literature and continuing debate on the subject and is highly recommended to those interested in conspiracy theory, millenarianism and other forms of right wing, religious and occult phenomena.
Peter Joyce, The Politics of Protest: Extra-Parliamentary Politics in Britain since 1970, Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2002, 280 pp., GBP 52.50, ISBN 0-3336-5766-7 (hbk). Reviewed by P.A.J. Waddington (University of Reading) This is a very uneven book. On the one hand it describes pretty comprehensively the tumultuous recent history of Britain’s streets that offers illumination for students whose knowledge of the recent past I often find to be very dim. It reviews various protest movements, strikes, and community disorders that occurred in the last quarter of the 20th century. It also reminds the researcher of events that may have slipped from mind. Repeatedly, I found myself smiling as I was re-introduced by the text to some campaign or incident long forgotten. Perhaps more controversially the author includes a chapter on terrorism. I find his justification for doing so in a book devoted to 'protest' and 'extra-parliamentary politics' compelling: just as rioting 'may be viewed as a means to secure political, social or economic change and provide for the empowerment of those who perceive themselves or the cause they advocate to be marginalized by those who wield power', so too may we view terrorism. Inevitably, but usefully, he outlines the terrorist campaign waged by Irish Republicans against the British state in the last quarter of the 20th century. More contentiously, he also includes action by animal rights activists. In recalling these events the author usefully encompasses not only the actions of protesters, activists and terrorists, but also of the state and its agents. So, developments in policing, intelligence-gathering and the law are all noted. Moreover, in appraising each of these state responses (and elsewhere) the author displays a commendable even-handedness: the ‘voices’ of advocates and critics receive equal attention. The utility of this review is enhanced by the author’s use of case studies that enable the reader (especially one unfamiliar with the circumstances to which the book refers) to obtain some grasp of what occurred. No doubt those who have specialized in a specific area will quibble with some of the details, and inevitably they tend to be superficial, but as an introduction and guide they remain very useful. Whilst there is much to commend, I am left with a very serious reservation. The lengthy chapter on ‘racial violence’ seems oddly out of place in a book on protest and extraparliamentary action. It is worth considering the author's justification for its inclusion: ‘This chapter continues with the theme of politically motivated violence and considers racially motivated attacks as an extra-parliamentary tactic by those on the extreme right of the political spectrum. The objective in carrying out (or giving legitimacy to) actions of this kind is to further the political object of destroying a multiracial society. Racially motivated violence furthers this objective either by driving minority ethnic groups out of
Great Britain entirely or by serving to create a society which is segregated on racial lines.’ (p 191) Clearly, the activities of the far right have been a persistent theme of extraparliamentary politics in Britain throughout the recent past from the provocative marches of the mid-1970s to a more surreptitious connection with disorders in Bradford, Burnley and Oldham in the early years of the current millennium. Equally clearly, racial attacks represent a scar on British society and acquired political significance through the Macpherson Inquiry into the murder of Stephen Lawrence. However, it is less clear that racially motivated attacks are ‘an extra-parliamentary tactic’. As recent research by Ray and his colleagues tends to confirm, much racially motivated violence appears to be apolitical disputes between people engaged in some kind of relationship, such as customers and taxi drivers or fast food vendors. Moreover, there is a naïve insistence that the politics of race are the preserve of the far right. It is striking that nowhere in this otherwise comprehensive review is any mention made of the campaign waged against Salman Rushdie’s book The Satanic Verses. Nor does the arson campaign by extreme Welsh nationalists against second homes owned by English people receive a mention. More seriously, the approach taken to far right groups seems uninformed by thirty years of research and theorizing in social movements. The first chapter provides a very sketchy outline of the ‘political opportunity structure’ and fails to acknowledge the importance of ‘resource mobilization’, ‘framing’, ‘networks’ and other concepts that theorists have found indispensable in understanding social movements. Instead, far right political mobilization is dismissed as a ‘backlash’ and manifestation of other irrational impulses. The even-handedness that the author maintains elsewhere suddenly deserts him. Much of the chapter is devoted not to the politics of race and racism at all, but to the recitation of complaints of unfair and unequal treatment by ethnic minorities. All of this may be accurate (albeit that others have done it rather better); however, it certainly does not contribute to an appreciation of extra-parliamentary politics. Indeed, the evidence adduced by the author repeatedly indicates that pressure has most effectively been brought, not from outside constitutional processes, but within official channels. Official inquiries, parliamentary scrutiny, legislation, Her Majesty’s Inspectorate of Constabulary and others have produced reforms designed to achieve the equitable treatment of ethnic minorities. There is a continuity here with social movements, but not one that the author seems able or willing to recognize. It is a conspicuous example of ‘elite sponsorship’, but that is a story that remains waiting to be told.
J. P. Larsson, Understanding Religious Violence: Thinking Outside the Box on Terrorism. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2004, 173 pp., USD 79.95, ISBN 0-7546-3908-8 (hbk).
Reviewed by Jeffrey Kaplan (University of Wisconsin Oshkosh) In reading this text, one is continually reminded of the truth of the venerable academic adage: “A good dissertation does not make a good book.” Understanding Religious Violence was indeed a dissertation—and very possibly an exceptionally good one at that. But by publishing it as a book, Ashgate’s editorial team ultimately does a disservice to the author in that the text has not been recast as a monograph with a coherent set of themes and original ideas. Such a monograph at this point in time would be most welcome, and should the author fulfil the explicit promise made to the reader in the text’s introduction, the work would be valuable indeed: “Ultimately, if the will is there we may be able to understand the relationship between religion and violence phenominologically (that is, its essence). Once this is achieved, we may be closer to approaching a method for successfully dealing with these issues on [sic] the international arena…With that in mind, please join me on my journey to understand religious violence.” (p.6) More ambitious yet, Larsson writes: “With a bit of ingenuity, inventive thinking and certainly patience, I believe that we can overcome the forces of terrorism and religious violence that today plague the world.” (p.viii). Understanding the immensely complex set of issues, beliefs and contextual variables which underlie a particular case study of religious violence as an epiphenomenon would be a remarkably ambitious undertaking for a single scholar. To attempt to do so on a global scale, as Larsson does in Understanding Religious Violence, strikes this reader as rather more of a life’s work than a single journey. The collected works of such as René Girard, David Rapoport, or the late Ehud Sprinzak come to mind as important steps toward increasing our understanding of religious violence. But what would be encouraged as precocious ambition in a Ph.D. candidate is condemned as hubris for the author of a monographic work. Such is the dilemma ofUnderstanding Religious Violence. To complicate the problem further, this author, by his own admission, would appear rather unsuited to the task: “[This book is] the work of a ‘reformed political scientist’ and an atheistic pacifist.” (p.viii) The reader at this point may feel a bit bemused at how a scholar, who states his rejection of the divine mandate under which, in the self-view of the faithful, religiously motivated violence is catalysed, would seem to be akin to relying on the judgment of a colour blind art critic or a deaf musicologist. Much the same analogy can be drawn with regard to a scholar of religious or political violence writing from the perspective of a pacifist. To come to grips with the ‘essence’ of religious violence, one must be able to comprehend the world as it is perceived by the actors themselves. Failing this, we are left entirely in the realm of theory. And theory is in the last analysis what this book is all about. Understanding Religious Violence remains very much a dissertation—albeit one that in the interests of cost and space has been shorn of the ‘mechanics’ of a good dissertation, such as extensive footnoting. Thus, the author—with some success— proves himself to be conversant with, if not fully the master of, a variety of theoretical
approaches. This mastery of theory, in this case drawn primarily from political science and international relations, is (unfortunately) the primary interest of far too many dissertation committees. The candidate is thus obligated to devote a great deal of attention to a discussion of academic theory, and (worse) of the academic ‘flavour of the week’ in terms of discourse and terminology. It is this imperative that most hinders the discussion in this book. Too much of the text is taken up in demonstrating the author’s theoretical expertise. This theoretical discussion is invariably expressed in the first person, which unintentionally makes the author as much the subject of the work as the topic which he seeks to illuminate. In the last analysis, Understanding Religious Violence should have been published in its original form as a dissertation, or entirely reconceptualised and rewritten as a monograph. As it is, the book is betwixt and between; no longer a dissertation but not yet a monograph. At a cost of USD 79.95, the potential reader is best advised to wait for the movie.
Alina Mungiu-Pippidi and Ivan Krastev (eds.), Nationalism after Communism: Lessons Learned, Budapest and New York: CPS Books/CEU Press, 2004, EUR/USD 34.95, ISBN 963-9241-76-8 (pbk). Reviewed by Eric Beckett Weaver (Oxford University) Edited collections can be mixed bags in terms of quality. The essays in Nationalism after Communism approach the question of nationalism in post-communist states from a sometimes conflicting variety of viewpoints and disciplines. The introduction, by Alina Mungiu-Pippidi, is the most challenging essay in the book. Errors in copyediting are generally best ignored, although the editorial neglect of – by my count – nineteen citations missing from this chapter’s references is problematic. Mungiu-Pippidi’s critique of the traditional paradigm is sympathetic, but in support of her own argument against simplification she has simplified the theories of others. No matter what some critics may have claimed, Geertz’s theory of primordial attachment to a social group (e.g., one learnt in childhood) cannot seriously be seen as claiming that identity is “inborn” (p.17). Mungiu-Pippidi has also misinterpreted Hans Kohn. While one may take issue with Kohn’s theory, his “exclusive and militant nationalism”, which includes the nationalisms of most of Europe excluding only the northwestern rim of the continent, cannot be taken as the source of the east-west dichotomies of nationalism, which are rooted in the old differentiation between zones of Europe (western, eastern, and sometimes central) and which were independently generated by numerous authors, several of whom – like Kohn – came from the eastern site of the putative divide (such as Bibo, Gellner, and Plamenatz).
Mungiu-Pippidi also simplifies western historiography and social science (to which she also is a contributor), claiming that external factors such as great-power politics have “somehow been obliterated from the Western discourse” (p.32). But most problematic is what she offers as an alternative to the “balkanisation” of the east: “If one looks at the roots of conflicts between nationalities in the Balkans, for instance, one will always discover the Ottoman Empire’s manipulation of elites” (p.32). The second chapter by Mungiu-Pippidi is a slightly more carefully edited in-depth study. It is a survey of nationalist attitudes in Serbia, Kosovo, Bulgaria, Romania, Hungary and Slovakia. The data presented support the view that nationalism is country and nationspecific, and that: “Throughout the post-communist world, Balkans or not, the communist legacy, more than anything else, seems to drive the adherence to the nationalistic ideology” (p.71). The following chapters, by Vladimir Gligorov, Gerald Knaus, Kristof Bender, Marcus Knox, Charles King, Valerie Bunce, Philip G. Roeder, Florian Bieber and Matthijs Bogaards, are each stimulating, and make up for the early disappointment. Bogaards and Bieber, in particular, provide interesting theoretical work underpinned by empirical evidence on how democratic institutions may be strengthened, ethnic tensions reduced, and governance improved in states that have undergone ethnic conflict. The contributions by Valerie Bunce and Philip Roeder also balance each other nicely. Bunce poses questions of how federalism can affect states in transition. “Ethnofederalism seems to undermine the state’s territorial integrity” says Bunce. “The postcommunist region, therefore, like the communist region before it, argues against the advisability of ethnofederalism in contexts that are multinational and that feature a transition from dictatorship to democracy” (p.189). Yet not all forms of state disintegration are negative for everyone involved. One also suspects that few in the region sadly commemorate the disintegration of the Ottoman Empire. The more recent independence of the Baltic states is surely not reason for sorrow in those states. And many of the citizens of Slovenia may well be pleased to have achieved national independence. While Philip Roeder does not skirt around the tragedy of ethnic conflict, reflecting on the transition from communism to democracy, he argues: “Despite the dangers of each shift and the bloody excess to which nationalism can give rise, this world of nation-states may well be the most secure foundation for democracy and peace” (p.224). Unfortunately the solid contributions are followed by a conclusion by Ivan Krastev and Alina Mungiu-Pippidi that seems to have little to do with the rest of the book. Many of the “lessons drawn” by the editors are not supported by the careful research of the contributors. And they also make claims that are not true – “Refugees, as a general rule, do not return” (p.276) – or are controversial – “A solution for Kosovo’s statehood problem, for instance, cannot be conceived if Kosovo is a separate country” (p.277).
All in all, the impression left on this reader was that the editors, who are to be commended for bringing together such an excellent team of authors, otherwise did their work overly hastily.