Archetypes
On a few kinds of anti-fascist weirdo
In his preface to Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia, Michel Foucault gives us a short list of principles with which we can practice the "art of living counter to all forms of fascism." To extend that thinking, let's sketch some personalities—some psychological and habitual archetypes—that are inherently and stubbornly anti-fascist.
But before these sketches, a clarification of terms. There are many different ways one can understand the word fascism: as a narrow historical phenomenon confined to Italy; as a broader phenomenon that scholars have dubbed palingenetic populist ultranationalism or demagogic irrationalism or the apotheosis of collective mediocrity etc. etc.; as an insult meant to signify the totalizing attitude of one's enemies; the list goes on. In my estimation, confining the word to a short historical period denudes it of its practicality, and deploying it only in the technical contexts of social or political science traps it among specialists. Instead, we should make the word useful to us today. To do so, we should use the word fascism to signify the starkest expression of an ancient habit bolstered by modern means. That habit: hurting others to prove the superiority of you and your group. Fascism is that belief and behavior made systematic.
Now: the masks.
The Sage. The Sage is one who is deeply satisfied with life's barest elements: a sip of water, a patch of grass, silence. In wanting nothing above or beyond the meager means for existence and time to contemplate the highest good, the Sage cannot fall prey to the fascist's appeals to one's desire for greatness, for more. It is plainly true that the most subversive act today would be to sit on the ground and weep with joy until you died; the Sage would embrace such a task with love. The notion of political duty, the dream of ideal yesteryears to be reclaimed with blood and struggle, the call to mobilize to meet the needs of one great national leader—the Sage dismisses all that as passing shadows of worthless delusion. The Sage cannot take orders because the Sage follows only the interior call to be blissfully oblique to the working world's wishes. One can't easily emulate the Sage—in fact, doing so usually produces disappointed family members and an early death. But we can draw from the Sage the prime example of intransigent simplicity.
The Klutz. The missing document, the broken phone, the forgotten order: the Klutz, an affable iteration of the Fuckup, is bureaucracy's weakest link. In stumbling into responsibility but forgetting to do what powerful people want done, the Klutz can subtly yet consistently undermine any work which requires tight coordination at every level. (The Klutz is an unknowing, and mostly incoherent, Saboteur.) How the Klutz ever gains a practical position is beyond me, but if their absentmindedness keeps them out of offices of power, good for them. Fascism is fundamentally an organized phenomenon, and the Klutz is the kind of person whose work slowly but surely erodes the consistency with which human systems are made possible.
The Fuckup. Everyone knows one. The Fuckup is the person whose self-destructiveness, lack of self-knowledge, or dedication to underground activities keeps them at the margins of social and economic life. The Fuckup may fall prey to conspiratorial thinking and emotional appeals to one's victimhood, but their self-loathing bars them from expressing the desire for dominance which is fascism's bread and butter. In more contemporary terms, the Fuckup is one whose habits, whose fragmented half-pursuits, prohibit their conversion into a source of economic and political lucre. It remains to be seen whether or not a nation of addicts can be made to do the regular and boring work required of bureaucratized fascism, or if such work, based as it is on our understanding of historical precedent, is even necessary today. Regardless, their inability to order their lives prevents the Fuckups from contributing social, emotional, and productive fuel to the powerful clique's most hellish engine.
The Saboteur. This is the cool example—the person who on the sly fucks up the gears whose grist is the innocent. The Saboteur is the exemplar lauded in movies, be it the noble bureaucrat sacrificing stability to help the meek, or the daring rebel giving up his life to fight a powerful enemy at impossible odds. Regardless, the Saboteur lives in a realm of real risk—the risk required to stand above history. Many people fantasize that this is their archetype, if only they are pushed just a little further, if only the fascists break a few more rules, but realistically, most are not made up of Saboteur stuff. A history of integrity, and at deep financial or repetitional cost, or a career in risking one's life in wartime are resumes upon which good ol' fashioned anti-fascist sabotage may be feasibly built. But if you type a lot on the internet as your principal mode of political engagement, seek inspiration elsewhere.
The Artist. Leave aside for now the artistic pining of history's most repellant fascist, since perceived rejection is a vampiric emotional state that will grab onto any scrap of material evidence in order to prolong its darkly feeding. The true Artist is one for whom truth and beauty demand life—one's whole life. Since powerful people use truth as a weapon and beauty as a tool to manipulate the masses, the Artist is necessarily opposed to fascists and their work. While some artists have found gainful employment in all fascist regimes, the Artist knows and heeds the fact that creating propaganda requires rejecting one's elemental bond to the truth of the moment—a truth whose nature is always and necessarily too complex, too enigmatic, to be faithfully portrayed by an advertisement for the state (and its representatives). Also, more practically, the Artist must spend a good deal of their waking life making art, and such erratic and private activities preclude them from keeping up with or supporting in any tangible way the powerful dorks who could not move a single heart or dollar without thousands and millions of people following their commands, feeding them, guarding them, posting for them, etc…
The Sicko. The Sicko's body forbids their participation in mass movements. In fact, it probably forbids them from getting out of bed. The Sicko needs to spend the time and energy they rarely have to ensure that they can get the medicine they need, the doctor's permission their stupid insurance requires, and on and on and on. The Sicko is constitutionally anti-fascist by being organically too fucked up to be of any use. Hence the fascist's homicidal attitude towards the sick and infirm; they want to dispose of what, and whom, they see as the trash. Naturally, then, the Sicko is usually inclined to a political ideology that prioritizes the wellbeing of sick folks like them, which usually sets the Sicko firmly in any and all anti-fascist camps. After all, why lift a tired finger for strangers who treat you like a liability at best and traitor at worst? We see too that the Sicko and the Fuckup are bedfellows among whom common cause should be found. In an age whose political and economic systems rely so much on efficiency, productivity, and self-sacrifice, both archetypes are sacred in their producing absolutely nothing of use to the powerful.
The Fool. The thing about fascism is that it is definitely not funny. Fascists take themselves far too seriously; even in an era whose richest man wears the mask of a nihilist jester, the dual desire for dominance and riches requires seriousness—because successfully manipulating the world and its inhabitants requires seriousness (cf. "You are not serious people."). The Fool is constitutionally incapable of aiding or abetting the crime of working to a coherent and measurable end. Gone are the charming days in which the court employs a Fool as the truth-teller to a sensitive ruler; instead, calculating machines will affirm the goodness of your autocratic decisions for a fraction of the price, all while declining to question your premises! The Fool is kin to the Sage, as both are driven by a private, otherworldly, and anti-economic desire— though the Fool helps a healthy polity function, whereas the radical idealism of the Sage is always interpreted as a grave threat to the illusions seemingly required by both ruler and ruled.
You might protest that this list is too thin, that I have missed some essential personalities whose anti-fascist examples would be welcome right now. Candidates include the Intellectual, the Caretaker, the Teacher, the Scientist. Yet these and other cases involve a precarity of disposition, or an exposure to social and economic winds which may easily blow one off a goodnatured course. Other qualities that may incline one to fascism include: an eagerness to please; a deference to authority; obsession with order, borders, or what is "right"; a history of hurting others; past indoctrination into any kind of cult (interpreted broadly); the ability to persuade yourself the truth of many things; a serious reliance on a regular meal ticket; a simple-minded desire for comfort above all else; care for one's family as one's highest value; fear of young people and their experiments… The next decade in America will likely flesh out such an inventory.
But, like history, this list is not exhaustive of the possibilities at hand.
I must say, it's a good read, and you got me laughing at the "Sicko." I'm thinking you'll edit this list as your mind expands into new expression. Press on!