Friday, October 29, 2021

Red American Cities, Gentrification, and the Future

A chat with Jordan Schachtel about National Divorce



Last night, I had a chat with my old friend, Jordan Schachtel, who runs “The Dossier” here on Substack. We discussed several issues relating to National Divorce—cities, gentrification, autonomy, branding, etc. Over the next several months, I’m going to be continuing in this vein, breaking down what I mean by the National Divorce concept—and, importantly, how talking about it necessarily changes the types of things we must face about the state of America today. This is true regardless of how you feel about Divorce as an “action plan.” The chat was edited for clarity and readability.


Jordan Schachtel: We’re talking about Texas, Florida, and the future of American freedom. This conversation was really inspired by Dave's Substack, Late Republic Nonsense. He wrote a very compelling piece called, “National divorce is expensive, but it's worth every penny.” It generated a lot of replies from both the left and right—many people were very angry about it.

But the intellectual movement that he’s helped build seems to have the wind at its sails. People are taking this issue seriously, even just to open their imagination to something different. There are commentators like our buddy, Jesse Kelly, talking a lot about it, too. You were on the Blaze recently with Michael Malice. He’s also a National Divorce guy, but he comes at it from a different angle than you and Jesse do; you're a conservatives, while Malice is a self-described anarchist. And it's interesting that, even though the gulf between you seems wide, there is kind of a coalition building around the idea.

And it got me thinking: Assuming National Divorce, is there going to be just one new regime? Is there going to be two? what is the optimal place to found a new regime? The two very clear front runners are Florida and Texas. And within those two states, where's the capital of our new regime going to be? Does there need to be a capital?

David Reaboi: There are a couple of issues here. I do think that there needs to be many different capitals in a future Red America. There's a political capital, like for example, in the United States—Washington was a city built from scratch to be just that, because most states didn't want to be under the thumb of the largest city, which was New York. So it was important for the new country that its new capital was geographically split throughout the different population centers in the different states.

And then, you've also got different kind of industry town capitals: there needs to be a financial capital, a cultural capital, a manufacturing capital, etc. If your new country is truly going to have a successful multifaceted society, you're going to want to draw on different types of people. You're going to need people who like to live in the country, and those who like to live in the city. You're going to need folks who like to live in Miami and folks who like to live in the Everglades, if we're talking about Florida, for example. So, on this topic, I'm in the ‘let many flowers bloom’ category. The existence of different cities with strong, different characteristics can draw different types of talent, different types of people into their orbits. So, the fact that there are differences between life in Dallas and Miami or in Houston and Orlando is good.

One large firm was just talking about moving their whole establishment down to St Petersburg, which is right next to Tampa. It's probably got hundreds of billions of dollars in assets under management, or something like that. And then you have Goldman Sachs building a giant office tower in Palm Beach County. You have all these tech guys coming to Miami. Clearly, Florida and Texas are appealing to these Blue Staters with Blue State values and politics. It's great to see a large infusion of capital into some of these places—if it was only just money. But with it comes political ideologies that can do real damage to the city. What do you do to protect your society or country from these foreign ideologies that could potentially threaten their stability?

This is an important point. It's a problem that, in general, the right has had no understanding of. It's just not on the radar at all, and it probably falls into the category of urban planning or gentrification—which is something that the right just hasn't given a crap about at least for the last 50 years, since the advent of the ‘fusionist’ Right represented by National Review and other GOP party organs, which have been primarily libertarian on these matters. Today this view is best exemplified by the City of Miami with its young mayor, Suarez. He’s begging for as much money as he can to bring into the place—just bring it, just bring it, just bring it—because the city exists only in order to generate revenue and, of course, nothing bad could ever happen. The city will never change—and if it does, it’s only to be richer, cleaner and better.

I'm here to tell you, just from my own life experience, that that’s bullshit. New York City and San Francisco, in particular, went through a gentrification process that destroyed the individual character of both cities, and left them a hollow shell of what they once were. The prices skyrocket, pushing out the small businesses that make a city unique and interesting in favor of in favor of chains owned by multinationals—the only people who can afford the rents. What’s worse is, it also ends up driving out the middle-class. The libertarian-minded types don’t spend any time thinking about people who aren’t Captains of Industry, and they forget that every successful city needs to have a thriving middle class.

Of course, the middle class looks different in a big metropolis than it would in in the Rust Belt or someplace like that. In the big cities, it could be called a creative class. In a big city, these are the people that made the place worth inhabiting in the first place; these are (or were) the people who give it its unique character. When they leave, the city becomes just a playground for the unimaginative rich: the same stores, the same restaurants. It looks like Epcot. The only difference between New York City and San Francisco is a couple of buildings and the natural habitat; you can buy the same stuff at the same stores, eat at the same types of restaurants, etc. This isn't limited to the United States, either. This phenomenon traverses the world: you have a small, nomadic elite class of wealthy “anywheres” who create essentially the same types of large cities, but with different scenery.

This is hard to figure out, but there needs to be a point at which the development of a city is sort of arrested—between a free-for-all of crime, dirt, and grime on one hand, and between Bloombergian decadence of plastic-like chain stores and super high rents. I was lucky enough to live in New York City during the Giuliani years; you still had the advantages of gentrification in terms safety, but the city was basically the same as it always had been.

There was an old website that was nothing but a log of stores and restaurants that had existed in New York which had closed, year by year, with the number of years that each had been in business. Just skimming through the list painted a horrifying picture: this is what it's like when you're losing the city's history. One place was around for 150 years; another for 95 years, a third for 75, etc. All gone. After the gentrification of the Bloomberg years, New York is a city that no longer exists in the same way that it once has. How can it? A city is more than its idea of itself—or others’ idea of it; it’s the connection of people to things and institutions with a history. As conservatives or people on the Right, we need to be very, very mindful of that dynamic.

Not a lot of people know about the situation Miami, but the mayor is very soft. He's part of this legacy group that has controlled Miami for a very long time. I think his father was also the mayor, and he's living off that legacy. He's making a name for himself by encouraging a lot of investment, but he’s not a guy who's going to protect the institutions in a city. He doesn't really talk about that much, which is a giant red flag.

It would be nice if they were to protect the free market—but slowly after so much of this money comes in, the Left takes over political life. In so many of these Blue cities, they’ve forced out the middle income people; it's the super-rich and the super-impoverished. San Francisco is the perfect illustrations of what happens with when the Left takes over.

This is one of the great things about the nationalist moment that we were in: it brings us back to the most important guiding principle: what are the things that makes life better and and worth living for the citizen. We're not addicted to free trade abstractions or ideological formulas. We want to make things better for the people who actually live here—whether it’s a big city, a small town or the country itself.

The Right need to start studying urbanization and gentrification and coming up with alternate plans. I The Left identifies some of the many of the problems very well, but their solutions are, I think, often ridiculous and inappropriate. But leaving a city up to the free market—just saying, “hey, do your worst”—is a recipe for disaster. It’s making the place unlivable and generic. Frankly, it's happening right now to Miami, which is a city that I really love. I can't wait to leave it, though, because I see these forces creeping up on the city.

I mean, it's interesting if you think about it, the difference between Abbott and DeSantis. And it's specifically between Florida and Texas, too. Florida as is known as more of a traditional swing state, and yet it has the most based governor; Texas has a very long reputation as a right-wing state and it's got a cucked governor—or let's say, half-cucked.

I think there are kind of a couple of different reasons for that, having to do with the histories of both Texas and Florida. The last couple of decades, the strength of the Bush-Rove dynasty in Texas, which has been very libertarian minded and terrible on immigration, for example, because so many of the donors and so many of the very wealthy folks in Texas make a living, one way or another, through immigration and cheap labor. Meanwhile, the traditionally Democratic, southern-most counties closest to Mexico are turning red, one after the other, because they have to deal with the consequences of open borders policy advocated in tony Dallas and Houston suburbs—and they want to stop the flood.

I think of the deep-Blue State GOP organizations, like the ones in Illinois or Wisconsin or Minnesota. They’re battered and beaten, pathetic state parties, because they know very well that they're not going to win. So these state parties often end up becoming like a kind of festival or orgy of graft and corruption. And there are no stakes, are just no stakes. On the other hand, of course, you've got the Texas GOP—they know they're gonna win, so they think they can afford to kick back and promote wishy-washy candidates who stand for nothing, children of governors and congressmen, etc. You get complacent and think you don't need to have hardcore right-wingers in office if you think of yourself as the most the most right-wing state.

The other thing that's interesting about Texas—and where it has an edge—is that Texas is really the only state with a defined and very, very strong identity. Someone I’d met recently in Dallas mentioned that the Texas brand is stronger than Coca-Cola’s.

That's so important. It’s a fascinating point now that I think of it—it's like how many Afghans will identify as Pashtun before they identify as Afghan. I think if a foreigner were to ask someone from Texas where they're from, they would say Texas first. So, there is a culture in Texas that can thrive. And, you already have the whole “Republic of Texas” legend and history within the imagination of millions of Texans. We’d like to build something like that in Florida, but we're not there yet. A future Texas Republic could essentially be a superpower overnight, positioned from the jump to be successful. Just from energy resources and economic power alone, it could be more powerful than any single European country.

That's true. Unlike most other states, Texas has a whole chain of proprietary Texas businesses that are set up to serve the Texas market. The big one, of course, is HEB/Central Market, which is an amazing supermarket chain that exists only in Texas—or maybe one or two places like Oklahoma, that may as well be Texas. It's the kind of thing that that gives me hope: larger businesses recognizing that there is enough demand and enough customers in Red States upon which they can build a business and make a living. A company doesn't need to be a ubiquitous multinational like Nike in order to sell shoes.

There is amazing business potential there. How many people voted for Trump this last time, in 2020? About the same amount of people that live in France. And the French have their own industries serving just their citizens: their own insurance companies, their own supermarkets, their own banks, etc. There are more than enough potential customers in Red States—or, frankly, even just in Florida and in Texas, because they're big enough.

I think people with who have accumulated a lot of wealth, and who feel similarly about politics, really need to take this red pill. And I hope that, the last two years, they've come to realize that time is of the essence. And I think that you make the perfect point there: we need to red pill as many as people as possible to the reality that they're facing, in the future, a political rupture; the political system is collapsing. People certainly see it in the economy now, right? They're skyrocketing inflation. The Federal Reserve has kept interest rates to zero and is just pumping up the stock market. The Treasury is printing trillions of dollars. People see it on the economic side—but, for whatever reason, on the political side, they think, “this is great country, ergo, it’ll last forever.”

When I wrote the National Divorce piece--I thought it wasn't all that esoteric of a point, but it ends up being one, because nobody reads the whole thing. People read the tweet and maybe the first couple of paragraphs and then they're done. But the point of the piece—and, to the extent that I talk about National Divorce at all—it is meant as a rhetorical device to spur thinking about Red State autonomy.

If we're too complacent, if we say stupid things like, “oh, America will just be around forever; let's not even think about National Divorce, because this whole thing isn't ever going to go tits-up at some point.” 

That kind of thinking is a mechanism that prevent us from doing the thing that we need to do—which is, to build stuff. 

I hope it will spur people to recognize that they must get serious. What do we need to build? What should we have already built? The day after the whole thing goes tits-up, and America is done, what are the things we’re going to need to have, in order to survive?

I think people on the right—I forgot how exactly you categorize them—but the ones who cry during patriotic movies. Of course, you can and should be patriotic about a nation that reflects your values. But so many of these folks can’t face that we're no longer living in that same America of the war heroes of World War II who stormed the Normandy beaches. I think so many people are caught up in this like Hollywood type aspect of what it means to be American. And that includes for too many people, I think sacrificing their entire livelihood for this nation that needs to stay together.

Right. It loops back to the beginning of our conversation, because at the end of the day, what is this polity? Whether it's a city or it's a country, it’s the people. You change the people, and you change everything. This is both the cycle of regimes on one hand and, on the other, it’s a larger problem with our country as founded—which isn’t what a lot of people can stand to hear.

Our country has been understood for many years as a “propositional” nation—which means that, rather than a nation founded on shared ethnic, religious, or historical ties, what binds us together is little more than an ideological commitment to the American Founding, to the ideals of the Declaration, etc. And look, I believe in those things; I think those things are great. They're wonderful. 

But what happens when a majority—or a substantial minority—no longer believes in those things? There's no law of the universe that says that that says that people will believe in the principles of their Founding documents in perpetuity. Then you’ve got serious problems with the integrity of the regime.

I think your buddy Malice said something to the effect of, “the Constitution is great—that is, if people are willing to follow it.” But t's just only a piece of paper at this point. Democrats and even some Republicans will allude to it if they need to use its authority, but it doesn't seem that we’ve got any semblance of a constitutional Republic. We're just in this weird stage of authoritarianism where the ruling class in Washington DC does whatever it wants and just like plays pretend constitutionalism. And you turn on the TV and then there's the kangaroo court. It's total clown show.

We're so far off from our days of being a constitutional Republic. The COVID experience really exposed that, putting lie to the idea that we have real protections in place that would prevent us from being consumed by the craziness of authoritarian city, state, or federal governments. That doesn't appear to be the case at all. This is a reason why I hesitate today to identify myself as a conservative—what are we conserving? It doesn't seem like there's anything left to conserve in these 50 United States that we have together as a single, unified nation. And I hope more people awaken to this reality.

Yeah, I agree. I think many of us are trying to figure out what is the word that we use in lieu of “conservative.” It's especially poignant for folks like us who grew up as conservatives and came of age, frankly, in a different America. Sure, a lot of these trend lines were apparent. I didn't know that we would get this far—but, then again, I saw the National Divorce thing coming November of 2012, after Obama was reelected. I realized that we’re now living in a different country. And that realization has informed my position since; absolutely nothing that has gone on since then has even remotely changed my mind about it.

Once you’ve been red pilled on this issue, it's impossible to reverse course. Both of us have spent time in Washington, DC. When you see what's going on there—and who the lawmakers really answer to, spending all their days with lobbyists, etc. And if you aren't an executive from Pfizer or Boeing or McDonald's, they don't even want to hear from you. Trump had that famous phrase when he was trying to convince black voters to vote for him. He said like, “what do you have to lose, at this point?” That’s my appeal to people who are on the fence.

I was part of that normie right-wing until I saw that the FBI was trying to overturn Donald Trump’s election. And I thought, “holy shit, we cannot have an FBI that can do that.” And the media and all the government bureaucrats were out to kill this guy off, despite him winning an election they consider to be illegitimate. At that point, you don't have a country anymore.

I've become very pessimistic about voting and national elections, too. if I have a busy day during the 2024 presidential election, I’m probably just going to bypass standing in line to vote altogether; it feels like a waste of time. I have a hard time imaging how the system is going to fix itself from within. Although our ideas might sound radical to some, the idea that you're going to vote your way out of this problem by simply electing a few more politicians in Washington, DC seems even more unrealistic.

I wish there was more time. We're in a kind of purple period right now, where more and more people are waking up to realize that we need to build—and some are going about building things slowly. The noose hasn't tightened yet. Usually what happens is the news tightens, and only then do people understand the urgency of the moment. My biggest fear is that the whole thing comes crashing down before we're ready. And before we’ve achieved some measure of autonomy.

Of course, we won’t achieve, let's say, full political autonomy until the whole thing goes belly up—but we don't even need that. We just need to be able to get out from under the thumb of Blue industries, finance, culture, education, communications, economy and government and live our own lives according to our values.

Everybody has a stake in this, and everyone has a role to play. if you've got a business of any size—large, small, mega corporation, whatever it is—figure out how you can modestly or fully orient it towards helping our people. For example, if you've got a sneaker company, sell expressly to folks on the right. Cater to Red customers the same way that Nike caters to Blue customers. I mean, when they have Colin Kaepernick in their ads, what they're saying to Red America is, “we don't want you to buy our shoes—or at least, we couldn’t care less if you did.” Let’s buy shoes from companies that not only don’t despise us, but is proud to have us as customers.


X22, SGT Report, and more-Oct 29


 

Evening. Here's tonight's news.

(Quick Question, is snyone enjoying these videos?)


The Freak-Out Over Tucker’s January 6 Documentary Begins

The original narrative about January 6 is not to be disturbed, no matter how many facets of that original narrative have been shattered.


Tucker Carlson on Wednesday night played a brief trailer for his three-part documentary looking at the events of January 6. “Patriot Purge” will premiere on Fox Nation, the network’s streaming service, on November 1.

Clips hint that the film compares the prosecution of Capitol protesters and anyone associated with the events of January 6 to the initial war on terror, a wholly legitimate comparison that my reporting confirms. For example, as I explained in April, Director of National Intelligence Avril Haines issued a report earlier this year warning “domestic violent extremists” pose a heightened threat to the nation. Not one for subtlety, Haines included a sketch of the U.S. Capitol in the document; House Republicans at the time blasted Haines for working outside her legal authority—the intelligence community is supposed to hunt foreign terrorists, not MAGA-supporting meemaws—to target American citizens.

Unfortunately, most Americans are unaware that the Biden regime, with a big assist from the news media, is indeed conducting a domestic war on terror aimed at the political Right. 

Democrats do not want the public to hear the details of Ashli Babbitt’s shooting death at the hands of Capitol Police, or the likely role of the FBI in what happened that day, or how armed federal agents have raided Trump supporters’ homes at dawn, in front of their terrified children and horrified neighbors, and dragged out in handcuffs to face various trespassing misdemeanors.

Democrats do not want the public to know about an inhumane jail in the nation’s capital used exclusively to punish Trump supporters, who have been denied any chance at bail by ruthless government prosecutors and hostile Beltway judges. Abusive conduct by Capitol and D.C. Metro Police officers, which included attacking the crowd with flashbangs, rubber bullets, and copious amounts of mace and other chemicals, must be kept under wraps. So, too, must at least 14,000 hours of surveillance footage captured by security cameras on January 6.

Which is why the collective freak-out over the 84-second trailer was fast and furious. Journalists and lawmakers who haven’t yet seen the full documentary nonetheless convulsed into hyper-spin mode.

Philip Bump, a national correspondent for the Washington Post, immediately banged out a 1,200-word diatribe about a film he has never watched. Carlson made the movie, Bump concluded, to “prove he’s not a white nationalist,” whatever that’s supposed to mean.

Bump ironically condemns the unseen documentary as an “angry muddle” while making his own angry muddle against Carlson, Fox News, January 6 protesters and a few people highlighted in the trailer, including Revolver’s Darren Beattie, the man who blew the lid off possible FBI involvement in the chaos.

“Carlson wants to elevate the idea—the surreal idea, the deranged idea—that the riot at the Capitol on Jan. 6 was fomented in whole or in part by the government so that it could crack down on the political right,” Bump sneered.

Now, I would far exceed my already generous word limit here by detailing all the “surreal” and “deranged” ideas the Washington Post has promoted over the past few years alone. Nicholas Sandmann, Brett Kavanaugh, and Carter Page—to name just a few—undoubtedly would jump at the chance to show Bump thousands of clippings to prove the Post, and not Tucker Carlson, is a top purveyor of outlandish conspiracy theories.

Speaking of deranged, Representative Liz Cheney (R-Wyo.), the daughter of one of the architects of the first war on terror, took to social media to give her opinion on a film she has not watched, either. “It appears that @FoxNews is giving @TuckerCarlson a platform to spread the same type of lies that provoked violence on January 6,” Cheney tweeted Thursday morning. “As @FoxNewsknows, the election wasn’t stolen and January 6 was not a ‘false flag’ operation.” She then tagged Fox News honchos including Rupert Murdoch and Paul Ryan to make sure they saw her tattle-tweet.

Cheney was soon joined by Rep. Adam Kinzinger (R-Ill.), her Republican colleague on the January 6 select committee. Kinzinger, who cried after the testimony of four police officers during a July hearing, echoed Cheney’s outrage. “Anyone working for @FoxNews must speak out.  This is disgusting. It appears @foxnews isn’t even pretending anymore,” he tweeted about a film he also hasn’t seen.

Accusing Carlson of promoting “cop killers,” a flat-out lie since no police officer died as a result of the protest on January 6, Rep. Eric Swalwell (D-Calif.) revealed that Officer Michael Fanone was “pissed,” which seems to be nothing out of the ordinary for the D.C. cop who graced the front page of Timemagazine a few months ago and does little else but visit cable news shows to explain why he is pissed off that particular day. “RT if Tucker should talk to the heroes of Jan. 6, not just the terrorists,” Swalwell tweeted.

One of Carlson’s Fox News colleagues, Geraldo Rivera, lashed out on Twitter, mocking Carlson’s suggestion that January 6 was a false flag operation. “Tucker’s wonderful, he’s provocative, he’s original, but man oh man,” Rivera told a New York Times reporter on Thursday. “There are some things that you say that are more inflammatory and outrageous and uncorroborated. And I worry that—and I’m probably going to get in trouble for this—but I’m wondering how much is done to provoke, rather than illuminate.”

Rivera continued. “Messing around with Jan. 6 stuff . . . the record to me is pretty damn clear, that there was a riot that was incited and encouraged and unleashed by Donald Trump.”

And therein lies the real controversy about Carlson’s documentary. The original narrative about January 6—it was an armed insurrection carried out by white supremacist militias at the behest of Donald Trump over the “Big Lie” of election fraud leading to the deaths of police officers while nearly toppling our democracy—is not to be disturbed no matter how many facets of that original narrative have been shattered.

Further, any suggestion that the FBI, a corrupt, partisan agency with a proven track record of acting at the behest of Democratic Party interests, was at all instrumental in what happened that day, or instigating the violence ahead of time, is strictly verboten. Never mind that even the New York Times reported that FBI informants were working with members of the Proud Boys before and during January 6 or the numerous questions raised by Beattie or the jaw-dropping revelations of the FBI’s key role in the plot to “kidnap” Michigan Governor Gretchen Whitmer last year—no questions allowed.

Next thing you know, the media will accuse January 6 skeptics of promoting “Russian disinformation.”

In fact, this all feels like the lead-up to the release of the Nunes memo, the 2018 document that connected the Steele dossier to the Democratic National Committee and the Clinton campaign through Fusion GPS and confirmed the dossier served as the basis for four FISA warrants on the Trump campaign. Before Rep. Devin Nunes (R-Calif.) issued the report, over the objection of Republicans such as Senators John McCain and Lindsey Graham along with FBI Director Christopher Wray, the media was apoplectic.

Nunes was accused of everything from acting as a Russian stooge to being a traitor and a dunce. How dare a sitting congressman go to “war” with the FBI? “The latest attacks on the FBI and Department of Justice serve no American interests—no party’s, no president’s, only Putin’s,” McCain tweeted on the day Nunes’ memo was released.

Nunes, of course, was proven right. I suspect Carlson’s documentary will act as the January 6 version of the Nunes memo. And the reason why the people who peddled Russiagate are the same people losing their minds over an unseen documentary on January 6 isn’t that they don’t know what the film will show—it is rather that they know exactly what it will show. McCain and company fought the release of the Nunes memo for the same reason.

On November 1, no matter how hard they’re trying to keep the truth concealed, the public can start to see for themselves.


Enemies, Foreign and Domestic

Are U.S. oligarchs working in concert with China to convince Americans to abandon republicanism?


A covert operation is an operation planned and executed in a manner that conceals the identity of, or permits plausible denial by, its sponsor. Correspondingly, a covert influence operation is an information operation planned and executed in a manner that conceals the identity of the sponsor and provides an element of plausible deniability. Covert influence operations require plausible deniability because the sponsors could lose credibility if their sponsorship were known.

There has been a lot of talk lately about misinformation, disinformation, and fake news. So much so that calls to censor public information are gaining traction within the government and the private sector corporations that control much of the digital landscape. Some of these arguments for censorship are themselves information operations within the context of political warfare between rival political factions. It is almost impossible to know what to make of these competing claims of misinformation and calls for censorship without an understanding of how information operations work and how they are integrated into political and unrestricted warfare.

Information operations, or IO, are the integrated employment of electronic warfare, computer network operations, psychological operations, and deception in order to influence, disrupt, corrupt, or usurp human and automated decision-making. IO is not new. Before the proliferation of computers and the internet, IO was commonly called propaganda, psychological operations, or military deception operations. Since the advancement of the internet, the definition expanded to incorporate new delivery mechanisms like computer networks and electronic warfare systems.

Covert influence operations, a subset of IO, also are not new. During the Cold War, the Soviet Union ran covert influence operations to disrupt and degrade U.S. diplomatic and military activities by financially supporting the anti-war movement and the anti-nuclear peace movement. They sowed unrest and chaos within the United States by funding and supporting left-wing domestic terrorist groups like the Students for a Democratic Society (SDS), the Weathermen, and the Symbionese Liberation Army (SLA).

According to Stanislav Lunev, a Soviet GRU defector, the USSR contributed over $1 billion to U.S. anti-war protest movements during the Vietnam era. Lunev described the effort as “hugely successful and entirely worth the cost.” Sergei Tretyakov, a Soviet SVR officer who defected to the West in 2000, also described a similar $600 million covert influence campaign across Western Europe in the 1980s to pressure European governments to remove U.S. military bases from their countries.

Not to be outdone by the Russians, our own State Department under Hillary Clinton reportedly provided hundreds of millions of dollars to anti-Putin democracy movements ahead of Russia’s 2011 legislative elections and the 2012 presidential election. Covert influence operations are like nation-state hacking—everybody does it.

Covert Influence in the 21st Century

Last week, the House Foreign Affairs Committee heard testimony on the strategic importance of the Pacific islands. During that hearing, Chatham House associate fellow Cleo Paskal provided expert testimony on the strategic situation in the Pacific region. According to Paskal, China is using its military, economic, and political elements of national power in the Pacific to gain geographical advantage over the United States. It is focused on acquiring influence and control across the three main island chains of the Pacific.

China’s ultimate goal is to deny access to the region in order to manipulate trade and supply chains to the United States and other western nations. Paskal testified that China’s activities are not just limited to official government interactions and programs such as the Belt and Road Initiative, but they also include pseudo-commercial business activities that, in turn, establish organized criminal networks. These criminal networks include drug and human trafficking groups, which ultimately undermine the economic and governing institutions of the various island nations. China regards the combination of these elements of national power as part of its unrestricted warfare doctrine.

Consider this translated excerpt from a 1999 People’s Liberation Army (PLA) doctrinal paper written by two PLA Air Force colonels and widely regarded as the outline for China’s current unrestricted warfare doctrine:

When we decide just what is an act of war do we look at methods or effects? According to the conventional definition of war, there is no way to come to a satisfactory answer to this question. When we consider that any . . . non-war activities could be elements of the new kind of war in the future we have to give this new kind of war (a name) that transcends boundaries and limits: ‘Unrestricted Warfare.’

‘Unrestricted Warfare’ means that any methods can be prepared for use, information is everywhere, the battlefield is everywhere, and that any technology might be combined with any other technology, and that the boundaries between war and non-war and between military and non-military affairs has systematically been dissolved.

One of the key components of modern warfare is IO, and in the case of China’s unrestricted warfare doctrine, a key method of theirs is covert influence. By using covert influence, China can set conditions in targeted countries which create the decay of social structures and national power. In other words, covert influence operations provide a way to achieve operational “preparation of the battlefield” without employing an overt or official presence on or near the battlefield. This concept is much like the Soviets secretly funding anti-war groups in Europe in order to create what appeared to be native political pressure on European leaders to remove U.S. bases and nuclear weapons—bases and weapons that were specifically deployed for the defense of those European countries.

From the Inside Looking Out

In the movie “Hunt for Red October,” Sean Connery’s character, Soviet Captain Marko Ramius, is attempting to defect to the United States with the Russians’ newest and most sophisticated submarine. The Red October is a nuclear attack submarine equipped with stealthy first strike technology which could threaten the precarious Cold War balance of power.

Ramius and a small team of witting Soviet naval officers must devise a way to get the rest of the crew to abandon the Red October without alerting them that Ramius and his team intend to defect. To do this, Ramius “breaks” the submarine by creating a fake nuclear reactor leak. In this solution, we see Ramius and his team conduct a brilliant tactical covert influence operation. He has influenced his crew to take action by presenting a deception—a false piece of information—the origin and truth of which would defeat the purpose of the action and his ultimate intentions. There is a reactor leak, everyone will die, unless they abandon the vessel and allow themselves to be rescued by the Americans.

The problem for China is Taiwan and the United States. Taiwan and its Pratas Islands control the first island chain. Whoever controls the first island chain potentially bottles up China’s navy in its territorial waters. It provides the ability to block the PLA navy from operations further south in Micronesia and the southern Pacific. For China to succeed in its long-term objectives in the Pacific, it must be able to prevent its peer adversary, the United States, from projecting power and responding to Chinese actions against Taiwan and other island nations throughout Micronesia.

Short of all-out war, how could China degrade America’s ability to respond to an external threat in the Pacific? How could it prevent or degrade America’s ability to project power into the region to counter their objectives? How could it make the United States less able to defend itself and less likely to be supported by its allies in time of need? It could start by covertly undermining the U.S. elements of national power from within.

By creating problems—real and imagined—in economic, cultural, academic, diplomatic, and military institutions. It could seek ways to degrade the nation’s domestic industrial capacity—by undermining domestic production of key durable and consumer goods. It would seek to influence Americans, who heretofore possessed a strong national identity, that this identity is corrupt, illegitimate, and unworthy of defending. It would look to delegitimize U.S. relevance to its allies abroad.

Why would a nation permit itself to be deconstructed so? Perhaps, if its own oligarchs and ruling elite had a vested interest that was in line with that of China, it could be done without tipping off the U.S. citizenry to the plot. And here again, we see Ramius’ plan, this time overlaid onto America. How would the enemies of America—namely China and a global oligarchy—get Americans to abandon a functioning republic? By breaking it, convincing them it doesn’t work, doesn’t deserve to work, and that something better, more diverse, equitable, and inclusive awaits them just on the other side of liberty.

All they have to do is kneel.


W0keness and the English Language

 Wokeness and the English Language



Language, the soul and tool of politics, is only rarely the subject of politics. But in the past few years, and with baffling speed, language has moved to the center of public life. The political conversation today churns with terms unfamiliar a few years ago: Latinx and BIPOC, cisgender and heteronormativedeadnaming and preferred pronouns. Some of these neologisms were made necessary by changing social realities. Others were created precisely to change those realities. For example, there was no need for Harvard School of Medicine to coin the phrase “birthing people” as a substitute for “mothers,” other than to topple the notion that only women can give birth.

Such terms emerge from the world of identity politics, the militant branch of the contemporary American left. And it is only natural that a movement that thinks in terms of racial and sexual identity would fixate on the words that define identity, to seek to control it. There are words that you may never say and there are words that you must always say, and a single misstep can bring serious, even career-ending consequences.

A term like birthing people may be good for a laugh, but not for those on the front lines of the identity movement. A California law, Senate Bill 219, would have punished nursing-home employees with up to a year in prison for repeated use of the wrong pronouns, a practice known as “misgendering.” That law was overturned by a California court of appeals in June. In this and other court cases, the First Amendment has acted as a shield against compelled speech. But if freedom of speech has long been regarded in this country as something sacred, so too is the freedom from discrimination. Canada’s Bill C-16, which in 2017 amended the Canadian Human Rights Act to include “gender identity or expression,” makes the use of the wrong pronoun punishable by two years in prison. Canada does not have a First Amendment—and it is now possible to imagine a scenario in which ours is made to give way to an expanded understanding of civil rights.

How did this come about? How did the linguistic ground beneath our feet, the bedrock of Shakespeare and Orwell, turn to quicksand and so swiftly? The rise of identity politics—itself a neologism of the 1980s—offers only a partial explanation. We must look in another quarter entirely to understand what has transformed our relationship to the words we use.

EVERY LANGUAGE is a work in progress, in perpetual flux. By the time one is 20, one knows this from personal experience, having observed new words come and go, some of them sticking. One can see this in graphic form with the Google Ngram Viewer, which shows the frequency with which any given word or phrase appears in printed texts. One can plug in a word and watch its rise and fall over the decades. (My students are usually surprised that no one said pasta before about 1980, for example, or that relatable in the sense of “personally relevant” dates to only about 2010.)

But if the law of language is change, it 
is not formless change. To have a written language, and not a merely spoken one, is to be in constant contact with its past. So long as a work of literature is still read, its phraseology and vocabulary persist as a substrate; they are the anchor, as it were, that counterbalances the sails of random change.

English has had two great anchors: the King James Bible and the works of Shakespeare. They came into being at about the same time, that moment around 1600 when modern English can be said to have emerged in its definitive form. Here Anglo-Saxon and Norman-French fused in a way that preserved the character of each, giving the speaker of English a linguistic keyboard with a remarkably expressive range, letting one glide in an instant from tangible, pungent concreteness at the lower end to lofty Latinate abstractions at the upper. No other European language has anything like English’s battery of synonyms, which permit us to make the finest of social distinctions. There is a reason why drama is the essential contribution of English to world culture.

Because of their cultural prestige, Shakespeare and the King James Bible influenced every succeeding generation of writers. And so, four centuries later, they remain largely accessible to us (although you might have to refresh yourself on the meaning of quietus or bare bodkin). The same language spoken at the Elizabethan court was still serviceable to the world of the Industrial Revolution and into the Cold War. But the social revolutions of the 1960s put strains on English that went beyond mere words to confront the structure of the language itself.

The civil-rights movement, momentous though it was, put no great emphasis on language. It did effect one significant reform, although from an unlikely direction. In the summer of 1968, the singer James Brown recorded a top-selling soul single with a euphoric call-and-response plea to “Say It Loud—I’m Black and I’m Proud.” The phrase had a galvanizing effect on both blacks and whites. Black was a word that in sound and dignity was equivalent to white; even better, it was a word proposed from within the community and not assigned from outside. It was adopted virtually overnight. Terms such as Negro and colored, which had previously been the polite alternatives, came to sound out of touch, if not outright offensive.

It was not so easy for the women’s movement to achieve a similar linguistic parity. Traditional sex roles had embedded themselves not only in the words of the language but in its structure and grammar. English itself was a “sexist language,” a phrase that first appeared in an essay of 1971 by Ethel Strainchamps. While the words man and woman were ostensibly equal counterparts, they were not used equally. Women were as likely to be called girlsfemales, or ladies—the connotation of the latter word particularly amused Strainchamps. (Why was it, she wondered, that one referred to “Republican ladies” but never to “Communist ladies” or “Black Panther ladies”?)

The principal bone of contention was that women were addressed in a way that declared their marital status, as Mrs. or Miss, and expressed their social identity in terms of their relationship to a man. The solution to this was the neologism Ms., which was to be the pendant to Mr. It had been proposed as early as 1901, but now it was reborn as the title of Ms. magazine, which debuted in December 1971 as a supplement to New York. Like James Brown’s song, that title both identified a problem and offered a solution. It was a curious fiction of a term, as it was an abbreviation with no word behind it. It prevailed, but not without a struggle. One of the last holdouts, oddly enough, was the New York Times, which did not adopt the term until 1986.

That first issue of Ms. featured a furiously ambitious article called “Desexing the Language,” by the feminist writers Casey Miller and Kate Swift. To repair the problems diagnosed by Strainchamps, their solution was radical surgery. Any word or structure suggestive of traditional sex roles was inherently degrading to women, and the language should be remorselessly purged of them. All sex-specific job titles were to be made androgynous; out went fireman and stewardess, in came firefighter and flight attendant. Also to be purged were any conventional words or phrases that included the word man, of which there are an endless variety, e.g., mankindmanpowermanhandlefreshmanone-man showman the lifeboats, etc. Substitutes were eventually found for each of these, with varying degrees of success.

As successful as Miller and Swift were with these causes, other aspects of their program left the public cold. The authors made much of the iniquity of using the masculine pronoun he as the generic pronoun corresponding to anyone (as in “if anyone comes late, he won’t be admitted”). They were not satisfied with the customary alternatives of he and she or the time-honored they, which was grammatically incorrect but good enough for Shakespeare and Jane Austen. Instead, they introduced a gender-neutral pronoun of their own devising, which they designated the “human pronoun,” complete with a table showing the declension of tey, ter, and tem (as in “if anyone comes late, tey won’t be admitted; oh, alright, let tem in”).

Here the public drew a line. The fact is that the American public has always had a fine ear for linguistic absurdities. That ear provides the limiting principle that restrains the impulse to reform everything.1 When the publisher Robert McCormick introduced “sane spelling” in his Chicago Tribune, the public laughed at follies such as fantom, doctrin, or jaz. And yet at the same time, it saw the elegant logic of simplified spellings such as catalog and thru.

It is one thing to adopt new words, quite another to learn a new set of grammatical rules—just as it is one thing to remove the suffix man from chairman and quite another to remove it from woman. When students at Antioch College proudly formed the Antioch Womyn’s Center in 1978, it was generally taken as a gag. And so, by the end of the decade, the linguistic map had been redrawn, some but not all of the feminist demands met. Flight attendant? Yes. Tey and ter? No.

But how is it that the same culture that could mock these pronouns a generation or so ago is now diligently declaring its own pronouns? The answer: It is not the same culture.

IN THE SUMMER OF 2013, an Army private and intelligence analyst was court-martialed for espionage and sentenced to 35 years (and subsequently pardoned by President Obama). One day after receiving that sentence, Bradley Manning publicly became Chelsea Manning and asserted the right to be referred to by female pronouns. Sexual-reassignment surgery was no longer a novelty by 2013, but this was a particularly sensational case in which some of the most contentious issues of the day converged: the passing of government secrets to Wikileaks, the rightness of the Iraq War, and the transgender experience. For the first time, the general public became aware that there was such a thing as a “preferred pronoun” and that it was a matter of common courtesy to use it.

The media complied with Manning’s request, and with a comprehensiveness not possible a generation earlier. There had been earlier transgender celebrities—the writer Jan Morris, the musician Wendy Carlos—and they had been treated respectfully, without any collective soul-searching about one’s own pronouns. In a digital age, when Wikipedia was coming to possess an authority exceeding that of the Oxford English Dictionary and the Encyclopedia Britannica combined, the application of preferred pronouns could be instantaneous and even made retroactive. Earlier references to Bradley Manning as “he” could be digitally scrubbed. Manning did not become a woman but had always been a woman, which would turn to be more than a semantic difference. To continue to refer to Chelsea as Bradley was to “deadname” her and affront her human dignity. It would not take long for what would have been considered a faux pas to become a demeaning, possibly criminal act.

It is impossible to imagine any of this could have happened without the digital revolution. Miller and Swift’s call for a human pronoun had fallen on deaf ears. It would have taken innumerable editors and publishers to sign on to their crusade and (barring a catchy new James Brown song to make the case), it still would have faltered. But Miller and Swift did not have Facebook at their disposal.

In 2014, the online platform gave its 1 billion-plus users the option of choosing from among 56 genders (including pangenderneutrois, and two-spirit). So began the second great campaign to reform the language. If feminism had been the prime mover of the first, the second would be dominated by the movement for transgender rights.

Black Lives Matter, for all its ubiquity in public life today, has had no great quarrel with the English language, not like that of the transgender movement. The transgender critique does not so much build on the earlier feminist one, which paved its way, as invert it. The feminist critic would say that there were two sexes, and not to treat them equally was oppressive and discriminatory; the transgender critic would say that it was oppressive and discriminatory to point out that there were two sexes. Such an attitude is scorned as “gender normativity,” which is to be swept from the language by removing sex or gender from all terms for kinship. Not brothers and sisters but siblings; not husband and wife but spouses; not man and woman, but person. A 2017 article in an academic publication with the instructive name of the Journal of Language and Discrimination gives practical suggestions on how to make language trans-inclusive. For example, the sentence “Women often grow up being taught to accommodate others’ needs” can be rewritten as “People assigned female at birth (often) grow up being taught to accommodate others’ needs.” By this logic, a term such as birthing people becomes not only comprehensible but more or less obligatory.

Languages change, as we have seen, but not at random. The tendency is almost always toward concision and clarity, giving rise to that great time-saver, the contraction. “People assigned female at birth,” however, is the very opposite of a contraction; it is not a word but a short story. And a speech or essay peppered with such circumlocutions will be a dreary slog indeed. It grates like fingernails on the chalkboard to anyone who has read Macbeth or knows Psalm 23. But who does nowadays?

The tolerance of the public toward ever more cumbersome circumlocutions is a great paradox. Is it out of a general sense of anxiety and the fear that one will be ostracized for dissenting and be cancelled (another characteristic word of the day)? Or is it that a nonreading public does not have a sufficiently developed ear to recognize verbal horror when it hears it? A half century of determined attempts to reform the English language—none of which paid the slightest heed to its aural and rhythmic qualities—has done a good deal of collateral damage. It has certainly done the ear no good. One can follow the declension in subsequent renditions of Matthew 4:4, “Man does not live on bread alone,” from “Human Beings cannot live on bread alone” (Good News Bible, 1976) to “No one can live only on food” (Contemporary English Version, 1995).

It is not only that the insertion of sex-neutral language has drained the aphorism of its cadence, but that it has made literal what was metaphorical. The gorgeous alignment of idea, imagery, and sound that gave us Matthew’s poetic aphorism has given way to a bald platitude whose individual elements seem to have been pried apart, translated piecemeal by Google translator, and clicked back into place. (The editor of that last edition noted that he based his language, at least in part, on how it was used in television.)

WHATEVER ELSE our ongoing process of linguistic revisionism has achieved, it has not made the language more beautiful or richer. It has certainly taught writers to be cautious. It is not that they are fearful of taboos, which are great aids to a writer. All languages have taboos, those fixed and stable rules that a child learns naturally. They constitute the boundaries within which the game of language is played, and the testing of those boundaries, even stepping slightly out of bounds with a slightly indelicate aside, constitutes one of the principal delights of language. But when the taboos are unseen and constantly shifting, like buried land mines in the field rather than bright lines on its edges, one must step as though through a minefield, and language becomes flat and banal. The fear of giving offense to even a single reader is fatal to vibrant prose (although that single reader, we all know by now, can do a great deal of damage with a single tweet).

A language purged of all figurative and allusive imagery, relentlessly literal and radically present-oriented, is a pitiful (and pitiless) instrument of communication. Any piece of prose that rises above the level of an assembly manual operates at multiple levels, from the factual to the imaginative, and requires good will on the part of the listener to grasp a speaker’s idea. After all, an idea is an intangible thing and must be brought into being by figural language.

But that is precisely what our identity-conscious linguistic revisionism has virtually ruled out by teaching people to read literally, rather than imaginatively; to look for certain words and formulations; and to judge prose by their presence or absence. And when those readers, shielded by the digitally enforced information silos in which they are confined, come across unfamiliar words or old-fashioned formulations, they are startled and liable to take the jolt of surprise as something unpleasant. It is the debilitating susceptibility that comes from isolation from outside irritants, much like the recent rise of allergies in children not exposed to certain foods. For the contemporary reader, much of English literature can induce a kind of moral peanut allergy.

All this occurred with little protest from those who were the traditional guardians of the language, the teachers and professors of English and linguistics. But these guardians had long since become “descriptivists,” detached watchers of how language is used rather than enforcers of its rules (who are now known benightedly as “prescriptivists”).
For the descriptivist, mistakes of grammar were themselves authentic speech; all dialects were equally valid, and there was no such thing as a standard language. “A language,” so ran the sneer, “is simply a dialect with an army.” But as Jacques Barzun liked to point out, a standard language is the most democratic thing of all; it makes the dweller of a village, able to communicate with a few hundred people at most, a citizen of a country.

In the end, this is the worst, if unintended, consequence of our half century of linguistic revisionism. It estranges us from our own language, pushes our language away from us as if it were an anthropological artifact so as to view it from a distance, not only critically but suspiciously, and as an instrument of oppression. But to try to cleanse a language of all the bad things that can be done with its words is to confuse ends and means. It is an endless and hopeless task. And to be alienated from your own language is to be alienated from yourself. No wonder people are so angry. And who’s to say that a term such as birthing people won’t soon be supplanted by another on the grounds that it, too, is a criminal violation of fairness, given that it is, shall we say, species-normative?


1 One sometimes reads that Americans were so consumed by anti-German hysteria during World War I that they replaced words such as sauerkraut and German Measles with liberty cabbage and liberty measles. In fact, these were ironic suggestions, briefly commented on with amusement at the time, and never really taken seriously.


Meta: Facebook's new name ridiculed by Hebrew speakers

 

Facebook's announcement that it is changing its name to Meta has caused quite the stir in Israel where the word sounds like the Hebrew word for "dead".

To be precise, Meta is pronounced like the feminine form of the Hebrew word.

A number of people have taken to Twitter to share their take on the name under the hashtag #FacebookDead.

The emergency rescue volunteers Zaka even got involved, telling their followers on Twitter: "Don't worry, we're on it".  

Another Twitter user said: "Thank you for providing all Hebrew speakers a good reason to laugh."

Facebook isn't the only company to be ridiculed over translations of its branding.

Here are a few examples of when things got lost in translation.  


'Eat your fingers off'

When KFC arrived in China during the 80s, its motto "finger lickin' good" didn't exactly go down well with the locals.

The motto's translation in Mandarin was "eat your fingers off".

But it didn't harm the company too much. KFC is one of the largest fast food chains in the country. 

 

 

'Manure'

Rolls-Royce changed the name of its Silver Mist car as mist translates as "excrement" in German. 

The car was named Silver Shadow instead.

Meanwhile when Nokia released its Lumia phone in 2011, it didn't exactly get the reaction it was expecting.

In Spanish, Lumia is a synonym for a prostitute, although it apparently only appears in dialects with a heavy gypsy influence.

Honda however had a lucky escape. It almost named its new car the Fitta, which is a vulgar description for vagina in Swedish. It apparently did not translate well in a number of other languages.

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