Old-fashioned "paleoconservative" racism and neocon-flavored pseudoscience, united at last on the 2024 GOP ticket
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COMMENTARY
Donald Trump and JD Vance: Decoding a double dose of right-wing racism
Old-fashioned "paleoconservative" racism and neocon-flavored pseudoscience, united at last on the 2024 GOP ticket
By
Contributing Writer
Published August 18, 2024 6:00AM (EDT)
JD Vance and Donald Trump (Photo illustration by Salon/Getty Images)
The Republican ticket of Donald Trump and JD Vance is currently being subjected to well-deserved ridicule, but even if their venture ends in defeat, powerful antidemocratic forces behind them — such as Peter Thiel and Elon Musk — aren’t going anywhere, and Trump’s base won't suddenly melt into nothing. Despite what looks to be their failure (so far) to score with racist and misogynist attacks on Kamala Harris, it’s worth taking a closer look at how two distinct streams of conservative racism have come together this year.
Two recent books I have covered for Salon shed light on these distinct forms. First was David Austin Walsh’s “
Taking America Back: The Conservative Movement and the Far Right,” (author interview
here), which explains that the “mainstream” conservative movement never rid itself of its fascist element and the "paleoconservatives" who have re-emerged in the Trump era. The second book is Annalee Newitz's “
Stories Are Weapons” (interview
here), which features a chapter about how neoconservatives (ideological rivals of the paleocons) tried to make racism great again with “
The Bell Curve,” a 1994 book whose style of racist pseudoscience
has flourished in Silicon Valley, including among JD Vance’s most significant backers.
I reached out to Walsh and Newitz in an effort to expand our understanding of the present moment, what brought us here and what may lie ahead. What they told me was both simple and complex. Here’s the simple part: The paleocons can be understood as old-fashioned, antisemitic white nationalists, representing a form of instinctive racist conservatism that resents and resists all change. The neocons' first intellectual leaders, on the other hand, were Jewish, and their "model minority" assimilation into the conservative movement typified the adaptive dynamic of a more pragmatic conservatism that accepts change and seeks to master it. Among other things, this involves intellectualizing racism in evolving ways — new bottles, same old whine. Yet at root, both forms boil down to denying the humanity of Black people, Native Americans and Muslims, along with a long list of racial, ethnic and religious "others." The differences are largely about how best to do this.
What makes things more complex starts with what’s new to the news cycle, including the resurgence of "race science" thanks to Vance and his Silicon Valley backers. But as Newitz writes, there’s nothing new about it. The "Bell Curve" moment of the 1990s, as Newitz frames it, was a psyop aimed at both the right's allies and adversaries, historically linked to the "Indian Wars" of the 19th century. By email, Newitz explained that when the U.S. government was waging war against "hundreds of Indigenous nations, [it] worked with churches and other groups to set up residential schools for Indigenous children":
These children were taken away from their families, without consent, and taught English, forced to convert to Christianity and learn "Western" ways of life. The idea was that these children were ignorant, and that there was something defective about the way Indigenous communities taught their children. Their minds, in other words, needed fixing.
This idea, that America's enemies are somehow mentally defective due to poor education or simply inferior minds, has continued into the present. It fits nicely with the history of eugenics and race science, which inform more modern works like “The Bell Curve.” The thread that connects them is the idea that marginalized groups are somehow less intelligent than white people, and that therefore they don't deserve the same privileges as white people. The argument in “The Bell Curve” is aimed at white people, at convincing them that they are inherently superior. If you think about it as a psychological weapon, however, its intent is also to undermine Black people's confidence in their own abilities, and more importantly, to make it harder for them to be taken seriously by white people.
The timing here is worth noting. Writers like Toni Morrison, Alice Walker and Gloria Naylor had decisively smashed white male literary hegemony in the previous decade. Although no one outside the academic world had ever heard the term "critical race theory," it had been
developing for almost two decades before “The Bell Curve” was published. The first two volumes of Martin Bernal's “
Black Athena” were published in 1987 and 1991, challenging the received notion of ancient Greece as a distinctively European or "white" civilization. Legal scholar Lani Guinier's influential articles (collected
here) advocated for a more inclusive and responsive democracy. That triggered a right-wing backlash after her former college friend Bill Clinton nominated Guinier for a key civil rights post in the Justice Department. Clinton hastily backed away, as did Sen. Joe Biden, who chaired the Senate Judiciary Committee at the time.
"'The Bell Curve' was aimed at convincing white people that they were inherently superior. If you think about it as a psychological weapon, its intent was also to undermine Black people's confidence in their own abilities."
In other words, there had been a flowering of serious intellectual challenges to white racial hegemony. “The Bell Curve” implicitly rejected all of them, arguing against engaging in any argument at all. If it was a neocon psyop, as Newitz argues, white America’s elites were eager to embrace it. Newitz doesn't see much difference, however, between the neocons and the paleocons:
We see the same ideas about a natural hierarchy of intelligence, and even the same pseudo-scientific language about IQ being deployed. "The Bell Curve" doesn't call for Black people to be enslaved, but it does suggest that they might be kept fenced into high tech "reservations" for people who are too weak-minded to do work. I think if we acknowledge that this is a psyop, rather than a reasonable policy document, it becomes very obvious that "The Bell Curve" is dealing in mythology rather than science. It's about vibes, about reassuring white people that they are the best.
David Walsh, on the other hand, perceives crucial differences between the pseudo-fascist "paleocons" who are the focus of his book and the neoconservatives who became "a 'respectable' faction in Washington politics in the ‘80s and '90s," providing cues to many so-called liberals:
After all, most of the neocons started out as liberals in the 1950s and 1960s before moving right, due primarily to challenges from the left with more than a little schmear of good old-fashioned racism. That’s fundamentally why “The Bell Curve” gets such a rapturous response in the pages of The New Republic.
The real stakes of the infighting between neocons and paleocons in the 1970s and 1980s was over the ownership of American conservatism and who would get the spoils — whether it would be old stalwarts and loyalists who came up in more explicitly movement and/or populist circle, guys like [Pat] Buchanan, or whether the intellectuals who moved right had a meaningful leadership role to play. This was heavily tinged by antisemitism and a sense of resentment towards Jewish intellectuals who had moved right.
Perhaps the best big-picture way to understand this fight is found in Edward Fawcett’s “
Conservatism: The Fight for a Tradition,” (interview
here), which surveys the history of conservative politics, culture and ideology from the early 1800s, both in the U.S. and Western Europe. The most crucial struggle Fawcett describes is between hard-line conservatives fundamentally opposed to liberal democracy and what he calls “liberal conservatives,” who seek accommodation in order to preserve their power.
At the level of governance, this involves “Tory men and Whig measures,” in the words of 19th-century British prime minister (and novelist) Benjamin Disraeli. At a more fundamental level, it means redrawing the lines of who’s included in the conservative coalition, and under what conditions. Landowning conservatives in England were originally hostile to the rising merchant class, but over time began include them in their coalition. This qualified assimilation of previously excluded groups became a familiar strategic trope in the “liberal conservative” arsenal.
Walsh also considers another aspect of the story: How liberals, in various ways and for a number of reasons, permitted or enabled this to happen. That’s the focus of his recent essay at the Boston Review literally arguing that “
Liberals Are to Blame for the Rise of J.D. Vance.” As his subhead puts it, the liberal tendency to embrace "responsible conservatives" — defined as "someone who offers thoughtful critiques of the excesses of American liberalism and
especially of the left" — has led to Vance as a vivid if illogical end point.
There has never been a parallel desire to identify a “responsible left,” meaning left-wing critics of liberalism such as Noam Chomsky, James Baldwin or Gore Vidal. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., often misleadingly
portrayed today as a unifying centrist, was
almost universally condemned for proposing U.S. withdrawal from Vietnam.
The liberal tendency to embrace "responsible conservatives" — defined as "someone who offers thoughtful critiques of the excesses of American liberalism and
especially of the left" — has led to JD Vance as a vivid end point.