The Centre Cannot Hold - Nov 28 2022

 

The Centre Cannot Hold

Nov 28 2022

I have no way of knowing

if his bigotry was cynical

or sincere.

Was it seeking attention,

or a surrender to genuine fear?

Stereotypes

were a tired trope;

after all

what we don't know

we fear the most.

And while we rolled our eyes

at such absurd caricatures

his followers ate them up.

So one was either in, or out

an us, or a them,

the constant threat

to a way of life

lurked under all he said.

He expertly channelled

the self-righteous anger

they'd mostly kept to themselves;

nursing grievances,

feeling left behind,

resenting the powers that be;

who, they felt

looked down on them.

And cleverly exploited

two crucial, and universal needs,

no matter what side

we find ourselves on —

the search for meaning

and desire to belong.

Violence wasn’t condoned,

not, at least

in so many words;

but what he did and how he looked

certainly invited it.

He was contemptuous of norms,

but instead of being condemned

was wholeheartedly admired

for being his own man,

a straight speaker

who stood-up to the elites.

So despite his physical cowardice,

the insecurities that hounded him,

and the many weak-willed vices

only the wilfully blind could miss,

his veneer of masculinity

remained impregnable.

And he learned his lessons well.

That the big lie

repeated often enough

would eventually become the truth.

And that the little ones, when numerous enough

can create the uncertainty

in which he thrived.

His many little lies

that come as naturally as breathing,

and as far as I can see

serve no purpose

not even his own.

Except, perhaps, to show

that he can away with it.

Joseph Goebbels

the propagandist in chief

said it first:

If you tell a lie big enough

and keep repeating it

people will eventually come to believe.

I imagine this sounds better

untranslated,

or at least more convincing

in a strong German accent.

But odious or not,

his seductive charm

and rabble-rousing oration

kept us all utterly rapt,

even those he attacked

and demonized.

You may be dubious

about my use of the word charm.

But the only time we met

one-on-one

I was surprisingly disarmed,

and I began to understand

his personal appeal

and the loyalty he inspired.

All in all

a dangerous man

and formidable opponent.

A name is hardly required.

Because if not him, then someone else.

The time was right

the world ready.

The social malaise

   —   the sense of things falling apart

and the centre letting go  —

made a man like this inevitable.

And while I look on

at a comfortable distance

from the other side of the border

   —   safely detached, passions in check  —

I'm implicated nevertheless.

Because there is no getting away from this;

the contagion spreads,

the poison slow

but just as deadly.

I wonder if Goebbels and Yeats have ever before both been paraphrased in the same poem!

Although this might as well be prose: no pussy-footing ambiguity or clever metaphor here. It says what it says! I usually refrain from politics, even current events. But sometimes, it feels good the get things off my chest.

This poem could probably fit any populist, especially the right wing ones. But I imagine it's clear — a name is hardly required — to whom I'm referring.

Of course, I've never met the man one-on-one. But according to people who have — objective observers, like good journalists — he is a big presence and can really turn on the charm. But I wonder: the genuine charm of a man truly interested in others? Or the weaponized charm of the sociopathic narcissist?