We
were shocked when Donald Trump won the election. Before that, we were shocked
by Brexit. And before that, by the rise of the IS death cult.
No
doubt, many of us did not expect any of these developments. But do they really
constitute a radical break from the world we thought we knew? Or do they
represent a form of continuity with the past? Belying the narrative of shock
and outrage that has greeted these phenomena, Pankaj Mishra’s latest book, Age
of Anger, emphatically argues the latter.
The
two contemporary phenomena that have exercised liberal minds the most in recent
times are the rise of militant right-wing nationalism around the world, and the
ability of nihilistic outfits such as the IS to attract youth even from the
heart of the developed West, which is supposed to embody all that is great
about modernity. How could so many turn their backs on the liberal values of
freedom, pluralism, material comforts, and human rights to embrace destruction
and suicidal violence?
The
liberal consensus typically blames the ignorance and gullibility of the
under-educated masses for the former (militant nationalism), and Islam for the
latter (terrorism), invoking the idea of a clash of civilisations between the
modern West and a medieval religion that seeks to challenge, if not destroy,
modernity.
What
remains outside the purview of debate are liberal verities about modernity and
its goodness for all. And it is the liberal’s blind faith in the modernist
project — mirrored by the blind faith of the terrorist seeking to undermine it
— that Mishra foregrounds in Age of Anger.
He
is well placed to undertake such a project. If there is a common thread that
runs through his work, both fiction and non-fiction, it is the forced encounter
with Western modernity and the psychological cost it imposes on individuals
living in non-Western societies.
Not
surprisingly, Mishra approaches present-day maladies such as militant
xenophobia and nihilistic violence through the filter of the West’s own
traumatic encounter with modernity in the late 18th and early 19th centuries.
In seven allusive chapters dense with scholarship, he maps the upheavals this
encounter generated in Europe, and “describes a pattern of mental and emotional
behaviour as the landscape of modernity extended from the Atlantic West to
Europe’s heartland, Russia and further east.”
In
the process, he teases out the contradictions inherent in the very project of
modernity. Contradictions such as the seductive promise of consumerist
fulfilment but the lack of material means to do so, the coexistence of formal
equality alongside wrenching inequality, and most crucially, the imperative to
approach life as a competitive race for success but in a society that shows no
mercy to the losers who form the majority everywhere.
For
Mishra, these contradictions coagulate in the minds of men — mostly men — into
a singularly powerful emotion: ‘ressentiment’. This is a term borrowed from
French that denotes not just ‘resentment’ but a persistent psychological state
that contains elements of frustration, envy, humiliation, impotence, inferiority,
hatred, rage, and of course, a deep urge for revenge.
It
is the world’s overflowing reserves of ressentiment that is harvested by Hindu
nationalists in India, Islamist extremists in the Middle East, white
supremacists in the US, xenophobic neo-Nazis in Europe and by demagogues and
extremists of all stripes everywhere.
What
produces this ressentiment? The dialectic of modernity, answers Mishra.
From
the dawn of civilisation, pre-modern societies were defined by fixed, stable
hierarchies. A privileged minority, typically headed by a king, claimed divine
sanction to exploit the majority. Then came the Enlightenment, which displaced
faith with reason. It tore the veil over exploitation and promised progress,
thereby inaugurating the modern era. The promise of ‘progress’ was the idea
that one’s life circumstances could be changed for the better through rational
exercise of human will. Not just individuals but entire societies could, and
must, change in order to realise their fullest potential.
But
as capitalism entrenched itself, it rapidly became clear that the doors of
social mobility would remain shut for the vast majority. Not only did the
exploitation of the many by the few continue — in contravention of lofty
Enlightenment values — it formed the very basis of liberal modernity. But for
the modern self, such exploitation and inequality was no longer palatable.
There emerged a growing mass of dissatisfied, young men with a sense of
entitlement, status anxiety, and unlimited desires. In the absence of productive
avenues for their energies, they were eminently susceptible to militant
ideologies. They succumbed to them in 19th century Europe, and they are doing
so in traditional societies around the world as they come in intimate contact
with modernity.
Mishra
quotes the influential 19th century thinker Mikhail Bakunin, who “spoke with
glee of the ‘mysterious and terrible words’, Liberty, Equality and Fraternity,
which portend ‘the complete annihilation’ of ‘the existing political and social
world”. He suggests that militant anarchists such as Bakunin, who identified
“freedom with a joyful passion of destruction,” are the intellectual
forefathers of outfits such as the IS. Yet Bakunin was a child of the
Enlightenment who only “took to a new extreme the romantic-liberal notion of
individual autonomy”.
In
other words, the “lethal individualism” that we call terrorism is not a break
from modernity but “as much its integral part as liberal individualism and such
collectivist projects as nationalism and fascism”. Mishra argues that all these
tendencies originated at particular moments in a historical experiment that
started in 18th century Europe, and is now worldwide in scope.
Age
of Anger debunks the liberal thesis that something external to liberal
modernity (Islam, xenophobia, etc) is to blame for the world’s ills. Far from
being civilisational aliens to each other, cultural nationalism and political
Islam, Hindutva and secularism, liberalism and terrorism, fascism and
pluralism, Rousseau and Savarkar, Modi and Montesquieu, all have the same
intellectual parentage. They are all children and grandchildren of the
Enlightenment.
This
book is an important intervention that asks us to think deeply about how we
frame our intellectual ‘other’. For what we need today is not a
fight-to-the-death to save modernity from its putative enemies or even a
project to modernise or ‘reform’ the adherents of ideologies identified as
pre-modern, but a better understanding of modernity .
From the Sunday Magazine, dt. 05 February 2017
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