Foreign: ORIGIN Middle English foren, forein, from Old French forein, forain, based on Latin foras, foris ‘outside,’ from fores ‘door.’ The current spelling arose in the 16th cent., by association with sovereign. Replaced native fremd. Sense of “not in one’s own land” is first attested late 14c.
Arriving late one night into my own country I was met at a friend’s door by an unknown man, the housemate of my friend. I stood bedraggled, laden down with baggage and exhausted, but not for all that bearing any resemblance to a homicidal maniac. The housemate looked at me suspiciously and then alerted me to the hour. 2:30 am. Yes, international travel makes for odd arrival times. He shut the door.
A light mist began to fall on the porch. Danvir my taxi driver, kindly waiting, and who had already offered his own house for the night, looked up anxiously. I was running out of options, I had already tried two other friends, away or sleeping too soundly to notice the door. So I waited, humiliated and slightly damp.
Shortly, the door opened again, this time my friend’s familiar face and arms wide.
In response to an article by Benjamin Constant, Immanuel Kant argued that there is no right to lie. That telling the truth in every case should grant us immunity in the face of the law, so long as one has done nothing wrong. But also that this is the condition of justice, the state and the law, being as it is the foundation for the social contract: tell the truth and the system will judge what is right. Such that when, and this is his example, the assassins come to one’s door in search of someone that is a guest under one’s roof, one must, says Kant, tell them the truth. The truth, regardless of consequences, regardless of whether they then enter by force and murder your guest under your very eyes. According to Kant, you have done no wrong. You have allowed the murder of someone under your protection, but the law cannot touch you, you are no accomplice to the crime. You did what was ‘right’ and told the truth.
If this is the case my friend’s housemate also did nothing wrong. Of course, legally, he was well within his right. Confronted by a stranger at the door at an odd hour one has no legal obligation to welcome the stranger, to offer her a cup of tea and a biscuit. Just as customs officers peruse a passport before granting passage, so the housemate refused entry as he sought an identity check. Both he and Kant’s ‘truth-teller’ think the same way. First he thinks about his own legal obligation, what is right for him to do as a subject of law, a just citizen, or a legally bound proprietor – my house, my right, my state – and only then and in the second instance does he think of the effects his actions will have upon the other. He is in fact the ideal citizen, reasonably, rationally looking to his own rights and affects as the model and precedent for later social interaction.
And yet without doubt his action was not right. Just as it is not right that a guest be murdered in one’s own home.
If the legality of the event is not at issue, and yet the action persists to strike us as wrong, perhaps we are dealing with a justice that is not only other but at variance with that of the judicial system. A sense of justice that is closer to responsibility than it is to law, and that takes shape in one’s relation to the other. Just as every member of a household has the same personal and ethical responsibility to protect the guest and foreigner living amongst them from murderers and assailants who would do them harm. And when they fail to do so, turning a blind eye to the atrocities conducted under their roof, although they do not cease to be good legal subjects, they do fail to be good persons.
Needless to say, both examples stand as metaphors for the contemporary crisis in relations to foreigners.
I come from what the authorities term a “successful multicultural society” where, for most, the words ‘fascism’ and ‘Nazi’ allude to their naively idealistic youth, or bring sardonic smiles to peoples’ faces as they think of Rick from The Young Ones. A co-editor of this journal recently suggested that when we look at Golden Dawn we’re not really talking about fascism at all, but rather undisguised neo-Nazism. Recent finds of Nazi paraphernalia in police raids upon members’ houses have reinforced this view. Fascism was something, it posed as an alternative to the earlier imperial regimes even if the associated costs were too high for the people to pay. Governmentally enfranchised neo-Nazism on the other hand offers no alternative to the current statist and economic system, but a backward looking nostalgia that would repeat the past. In the case of Golden Dawn, somebody else’s past. It is a project bound to fail, since, at the very least, if the Nazis couldn’t pull it off with an entire population behind them and a massive infrastructure, how could the Greeks?
So the question remains, if militant xenophobic brutality does not describe the ugly face of fascism today, what does? Perhaps the answer lies in those complacently sardonic grins.
Let’s consider the defining characteristics of fascism. Despite the colloquial ease with which the term is used, it is an intransigent concept which defeats the logic of a single and comprehensive definition. Is this because fascism is essentially predisposed towards acts rather than toward providing a comprehensive ideological platform? Or is it because we interpret fascism by interrogating what we consider to be particular examples of it in the past? No doubt this ability to evade definition should be regarded as one of its stronger characteristics.
Taking Marinetti’s ‘futurist manifesto’ as a starting point, the common understanding of fascism rests upon a glorification of violence. Here violence is aestheticised with little regard for any perceived end. ‘We want to glorify war’ he states, ‘the only cure for the world — militarism, patriotism, the destructive gesture of the anarchists, the beautiful ideas which kill, and contempt for woman.’ But such a glorification cannot be limited to the purely aesthetic; acts of atrocity must be committed upon someone and by someone. In which case, art boils over into the social domain where the assumption is that the actors are pre-eminently the strong, those who already have a claim to being able and in a position to commit such acts, while those who are acted upon are the weak and without recourse. It is this position that allowed German fascists to latch upon a distorted Neitzcheanism, or a Zarathustrianism, in order to provide a vague theoretical foundation for what is otherwise thoughtless, unpremeditated action. Other fascist theorists such as Carl Schmitt and Giovanni Gentile only wrote after the fact and in truth had little influence on the regimes they served. However, as experience proves, it is obvious that such fascist violence is not necessarily easily distinguished from ‘legitimate’ violence. Fascist movements commit a lot of their crimes adopting, assuming or simply working within the state’s monopoly of violence. In Italy the fascist regime existed alongside state procedures and the judicial machinery remained as it had in the former regime.
Other characteristics of fascism are more apparently related to the economic, such as autarky and corporatism. Though these are by no means exclusive to fascism and certainly go hand in hand with the concept of the nation-state. Corporatism under fascism can be understood as differing with other forms of social grouping, on one account: that these bodies are not supposed to serve the interests of their various individual constituents, but the interest of the mythical whole. It is said that unlike modern liberal democracy which privileges the individual, the corporatist model takes the group as the basic political unit and emphasises co-operation over competition. Nonetheless, both fascism and neoliberal capitalist representative democracy function according to an exclusivist model which disregards all those individuals whose interests are not represented by the body corporate. In this sense both structures are based upon the assumption that the interests of the few represent the interests of the many; insiders are preferred and protected over and against outsiders, and class- structures are supposed to be irrelevant. One commentator on Fascism, Michael Mann (Fascists), has argued that fascism unfolded without regard for class structures and struggles. But if this is the case, against whom are the fascist paramilitaries enacting their violence? Marinetti’s glorified violence may well be symbolic, but it is also instrumental. Before and throughout Nazi Germany the fascists were on a rampage not just to enact ‘random acts of senseless violence’, but to wipe any threatening groups of political opposition off the map. Among others, racial minorities, the radicalised labour unions, communists, anarchists. Therefore Dylan Riley’s irony in his article Enigmas of Fascism is spot on when he states that the fascists not only viewed class-struggle with distaste, ‘they engaged in it with violent enthusiasm’.
Racism on the other hand may well be a defining characteristic of fascism though fascism has no exclusive claim to it. Racism abounds in the contemporary world, more or less as it probably always has, whether it is expressed definitively or whether it takes more surreptitious forms, such as the ever so common “I’m not racist… but [insert most recent immigrant community] are dirty/lazy/smelly”. Of course fascism is supposed to make a policy of racism, but does the current nation-state not? Stand in a queue at an airport terminal, visit a detention centre, look at the names on a list of ‘illegal immigrants’, and the nation-state can be seen to practise a rabid policy of ethnic discrimination.
The truth is however, that this entire attempt to define ‘fascism’ is confused because we don’t really know what we’re talking about. Is fascism a state of mind or a regime? Is it the name of a movement or of a prejudiced individual? As Dylan Riley points out, fascist movements and fascist regimes require a separate historical study. Since fascist movements preceded and coexisted with the Third Reich without being assumed within the regime. A movement remains a movement up until the moment when the traditional power-holders are willing to give them office and incorporate them into the conservative state, at which point they cease to be a movement and become a regime. The point being that there was no single fascism, because the two primary historical examples we have to go on, Hitler’s Third Reich and Mussolini’s Italy, had both graduated from fascist movements to fascist regimes. That is, the fascist ideas espoused by both movements were adopted and subsumed into the conservative state apparatus.
It goes without saying that the above characteristics are equally attributable to the contemporary democratic nation- state maintained by the procedures of globalised capitalism. And indeed, if, as Robert Paxton argued in his study The Anatomy of Fascism, fascism never was (and the context is pre-war Germany) a revolutionary force (along the lines of communism and socialism) but was, on the contrary, a counter-revolutionary movement that came to power only by opportunistically making alliance with conservatives; then we can begin to see that it was the rise of fascism that paved the way for neo-liberal democratic capitalism by stamping out the opposition. If this is indeed the case, fascist ideology (in its albeit fragmented form) already structures the present dominant regime. (Which means we can no longer segregate the hegemonic military endeavours of Nazi Germany from the economic policies of present day Germany, in some intrinsic sense the intended outcome is the same — hegemony and the dissolution of the other). We might say that fascist regimes served their purpose, were subverted into a global corporatism and have now become akin with the status quo. Such that neo-Nazi movements claiming their genesis in an earlier period are as outdated and out of touch with the present conditions as they are sadistic.
The question is then, what is to be learned from the rise of neo-Nazism within an already fascist model of society? And is the current populist and governmentally sanctioned trend in Greece towards anti-fascism, directed primarily against Golden Dawn, a promising sign of an increasing turn against racism and towards tolerance? Or is it a misdirected desire to be in the opposing (anti) camp that will more than likely result in the same complacency in the face of a larger fascist movement seeping through state apparatuses and market-forces? It is bitterly ironic that the current government is now pursuing a policy of the latter (imprisoning GD members, banning GD as a parliamentary party) and yet is composed by at least historical affiliates of the former (see Dalakoglou’s article in Occupied London #5). As a friend of mine not entirely ironically stated he is ‘anti-anti’; a statement that should remind us how easy it is to adopt the ‘anti’ position. A nice example of the appropriation of the anti position occurred recently in Scotland where protestors demonstrating in favour of Scottish independence threw insults at Nigel Farage, a representative and supporter of Great Britain. The insults indicated his racism: “fascist scum”, “fucking racist shite”, “xenophobic”. The event is interesting because in response Farage had the nerve to claim that the protestors themselves were “fascist”, “racist” and “xenophobic”, because their position is “anti-English”. It is very easy to become complacent in an ideology of ‘anti’, of always defining oneself by what one is not. And yet the difficulty of defining oneself and one’s position positively only points to the failure of contemporary theorists and actors to provide a clear outline of a philosophy for the future. Indeed, if we knew where we wanted to go it would presumably be a whole lot easier to figure out how we are supposed to get there.
So, we are confronted by two dominant streams, a (pseudo and/or state) fascism on the one hand and an increasingly populist ideology of ‘anti’ on the other. What if these are two sides of the same coin? That is, the fetishised problem of self-definition and otherness introduced by a now victorious global capitalism. What both Golden Dawn and the ideology of the anti point to (albeit from opposite directions) is the failure of global capitalism to successfully globalise its inhabitants. Somehow place of origin continues to matter to us even if it no longer sufficiently defines us. And in this lack, in one way or another, we appropriate ourselves through what we are not. But must this unfulfillable task of self-definition be construed along terms of polarization? Or can we accept, as multiculturalism claims to do, a proliferation of differences that are not reducible to black-white, east-west, left-right and so forth?
On first sight this prospect of tolerant cohabitation may seem an admirable aim. And yet, as actually existing policy it manifests all the traits of the above mentioned fascism, and principally the first. In ‘multicultural’ countries (I am thinking in the first place of Australia) the state’s monopoly on ‘legitimate’ violence is buoyed up by universal popular approbation. Here we see a chimeric mix of police state and nanny state enforced by adamantine administrative procedures. In such a state, law controls the most trivial aspects of human behaviours and interrelations and achieves its perfected form in the most insidious way. That is, by gradually insinuating the sovereignty of law into the very mind and will of the people, until any show of violent dissent is condemned by all as an irrational act directed against the health and hygiene of the populous at large. As an insightful friend brought to my attention, the welfare system thus appears as another aspect of the same beast, as both employed and unemployed alike work under the illusion that they should be grateful to the state for its generous support, while all the while the state reaps the benefit of having a compliant, healthy and largely decriminalised population. Obviously, the notion of a decriminalised population depends entirely upon the visors, the nun’s habit worn in order to restrict our gaze from dwelling upon the coterminous injustices, from the initial appropriation of land to the price paid for ‘western’ standards of consumption by people in at least psychologically distant lands, not to mention environmental rape and pillage. The fact is that a modern ethnically diverse state is as dependent upon this habit as is any a-moral position of a modern consumer. Not only because this position follows the philosophy of the three wise monkeys (see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil), but because when it comes to practise it relies on the law as the crucial mediator of human relations. The efficient result is that we none of us tread on one another’s toes.
Perhaps one of the things that foreigners from efficiently organised societies notice here in Greece is the willingness to engage in conversation; more, argumentation. I maintain that the great difference is that, despite differences of origin, village, city, north, south and so forth, there remains here in Athens to a great degree a common psyche, let’s say cum grano salis. You sing your songs, eat your food, talk about differences in accent, but the differences are, on the large scale of things, ever so minor. Such that when it comes to serious political and even philosophical debate there is, even if it’s a phantasm, a ghost of itself, some kind of a shared platform from which to embark. Henceforth you search for differences. And that’s what makes conversations here so shocking, passionate and often, fruitful.
It is not by chance that such conversations are rare enough to come upon in a so-called ‘multicultural’ society, where songs are sung in different languages about different wars and different persecutions, where more often than not the opposing side is within the present company, and where the only easily shared, because consumable, thing is food (and indeed if there is no split between body and soul perhaps this is the first step in accepting the other). Not to mention the challenges of living with the dangers engendered by different religions and a colonial past. So, of course, conversations remain largely with superficialities- as Jane Austen knew, one must, in order not to offend, talk only of the weather and the condition of the roads. No doubt this is inevitable, since if the differences between an Israeli and a Palestinian, a Chinese and a Tibetan, a Sri-Lankan and a Tamil are really insurmountable how else can one talk? And so, suddenly, common interest becomes the mediator. That is to say, consumerism, where our differences are recognised albeit through a certain reification or fetishisation- Buddhist prayer flags, yoga, cuisine, funk, blues, jazz, hip hop. There are so many varieties of this fetishisation, from orientalism to traditionalism that there is not one of us who has not succumbed at least 10 times a day. Ah, but I hear you cry, this is not fetishisation, but globalism! What is the difference?
Is it inevitable, however, that differences and here we are talking about real differences, can only be dealt with in two ways, legally and consumptively? That is, by normalising them, through a legalistic discourse of compromise where the state facilitates our ease of interaction so we don’t actually have to be dependent upon one another, ask anything of one another or demand personal, unmediated vengeance. And so we can leave our real differences at home and talk about anything at all and be friendly, so long as we steer clear of politics and religion. And yet, we don’t forget who we are and where we’re from because there’s always the cultural fetish. And this always takes a form that the other can accept, a symbolic compromise onto another’s territory mediated by capitalism.
The question is, then; is there an alternative? Because as far as I see it, the current system, regardless of how successful it is, deals with otherness or difference by leaving it up to the market to decide who is and is not the same. While (state) fascism facilitates this dependence by eradicating capitalism’s most vociferous opponents, the contemporary nation-state is well on its way to easing us all out of our dream of local allegiances and pre-capitalist social structures. And let’s not fool ourselves, national borders do not describe some kind of intrinsic difference from one side to the other. What kind of a perverted dream must you live here in Greece to think that the word ‘Greek’ expressed a single descent? We all know that the rise of the nation-state was symbiotic with colonialism and the later stages of industrialisation. It’s always about money, goods and private interests. If you don’t have them you’d never bother putting up the fence in the first place.
Of course, the populist ‘anti’ ideology prevalent at the moment in Greece has no intention of breaking these nationalist boundaries. And what with neo-Nazi groups popping up all over Europe, we should keep in mind the laziness of popular dissent during the early years of the Third Reich (and also that radicalised resistance movements are so frequently the first target of rising dictatorships). It is not by chance that this ‘anti’ ideology was fired not by all the murders and attacks that Golden Dawn had committed against all those minorities, but by the murder of a Greek. People (and among them politicians) may well believe they are expressing anti-Nazi, anti-fascist sentiments, but by and large they still maintain a protectionist propaganda in favour of the nation-state posing a distinction between the internally fluid concept of what it means to be ‘Greek’ against the ‘immigrant’, against all those foreigners. Aren’t we living a naïve project of protectionism, as if the word ‘Greek’ means Greek salad without tomatoes, and patates without potatoes… not to mention the grape which made its legendary journey from the east? Is anyone objecting to all those imported goods?
We all know to some degree or another that immigration today is a direct result of the indiscriminate slicing up of the land into nation-states according to private interests. Is there a war today that was not begun over a century ago on account of external interference? Perhaps the single difference between so-called first and third worlds is that the former are better equipped to accept the boons of intervention while simultaneously rejecting the undesired by-products. Must we accept that humans are greedy, self- interested and weak? That we will continue to revel in our nice decors, our televisions, our obscene energy consumption, holidays, not to mention all those goods ‘made in china’ up until either they are taken from us by economic crises, disintegrating borders or environmental catastrophe? There is little to nothing in our comfortable lives that has not been manufactured upon the sweat and blood of others. But all those goods we so willingly accept within the borders for the single purpose of consumption, somehow bear for us no relation to the men and women who have crossed the same borders, are detained or are sent back. The entire rhetoric of economics is dependent upon accepting the product without the by-product, labour without the labourer, gain without loss.
But why must the presence of the ‘stranger in our midst’ be considered as a loss? That the presence of increasing numbers of strangers threatens the economic stability of a country such as Greece is, of course, humbug; that there is not enough work to go around. There is not as much of anything as there was say ten years ago, and yet there is still more than elsewhere. In other countries there is much less and so people make do with less. And then there’s always cultural capital: no immigrant arrives in another country without his share of wealth. It’s just not immediately measurable with the weight of a euro.
So, we are approaching a crisis. And this crisis is as much a religious or medical, as an economic term. A day of judgement when individual quality of life should gradually become a mean, a global average. None of us want to live like they do in Nairobi or Bangkok, nobody would if they’ve lived with the ease and comfort offered by all these wealthy nations; but it has been long enough now that the wealthy have been living off the blood of the poor, taking the products of their labour while abstracting their persons. And yet, although the present crisis is presented as first and foremost an economic one, it is becoming increasingly apparent that one of its major side effects is a dramatic increase in racism and xenophobia throughout Europe.
Which leads me to ask a question, the question of the foreigner or a foreign question: What has changed, if something has changed, in relation to the foreigner? Put otherwise, how do we, how can we live side by side with difference without fetishizing it, assimilating it, or sterilizing it?
Neo-Nazism does indeed recognise difference, though its project is then to eradicate it. The multicultural society also recognises difference though it does so only by subordinating it to the repressive forces of a single dominant culture, the order of law and the forces of the market. With the former we have a simply racist fascism, with the latter the fascism of tolerance where we are expected to be tolerant of everything except intolerance, such that we must keep a wide berth from such acts, topics and ethics we fear might inspire differences of opinion, disrespect or outright hostility. What is common to fascism and a neo-liberal representative democratic state composed of different ethnicities is that the question of the foreigner, the presence of unresolved difference, is not permitted to be raised. Here the presence of difference, or radical alterity is put out of question. On the one hand, by exterminating this presence within, or expelling it beyond the boundaries of the same; on the other hand, by reducing such difference to a fetish, whether this takes the form of ‘culture’ (i.e. not civilization), religion, language, food, art. That is, by depoliticizing difference and subordinating it to the common law, the same law that all must abide by, or the law of the same. So how can strangers cohabit in a society that believes that there is ‘same’ and ‘others’? And how can we escape this banal and blatantly false polarisation?
The ad hoc solution to ethnic diversity most frequently seen in European cities such as Athens is a mild form of ghettoisation. ‘Greeks’ keep to their own, as do ‘Chinese’ (or worse ‘Asians’),‘Blacks’ (those nominally originating from the continent of Africa), ‘Pakistanis’ and so forth. The inverted commas indicate that a large part of the problem is ignorance. So long as all these peoples are designated with such general terms, according to the old boundaries drawn up by the interests of the colonial world, there will be little understanding of the significant differences between a Tanzanian and a Libyan. And yet, perhaps ‘understanding’ is not the right word. ‘Greeks’ are very keen to point out the differences between those who come from the Peloponnese and those who come from Crete. These differences are supposed to be intuitive, even now when the majority of the population lives in the city. The truth is that now that those who can claim to have grown up and remained in their ancestral villages are but a lucky or deprived few, the dominant condition is increasingly one of migration, whether from afar or nearby, and I say this without regard for national borders. Such that the stranger in our midst, whether one is from Thessaly, Nigeria or southern France is, in principal, ourselves.
The foreigner is already in our midst. And this presence, especially in Greece where the law fails again and again to recognise the right to asylum or even to a just process, cannot help but point to the failure of the state. Not merely because the procedures are laborious and perverse, but because the nation-state is seen to be a porous concept belonging to a previous era while the law, failing to allow for global changes in economic precedence, can no longer maintain its mystique of power and universalism. The truth is that the foreigner asks nothing. It is not the foreigner who raises the question as to the power and efficiency of the state, but the state itself. The question posed to the nation-state and the sovereignty of law is just as evident in the racist attacks, both physical and psychological, against the foreigner as it is amongst the centre-left who support a humanism of equal rights for all. Whether one’s intention is to return to a pre-capitalist, pre-imperialist world before capitalism and without ease of travel or whether one’s hope is for a Kantian style universal system of Justice, the problem is the same. The current system is insufficient.
So, what is different about the foreigner is not merely all those mostly superficial differences, of language, physiognomy, religion and so forth. Such differences inhabit a place as well and we live with them in those closest to us. If there is something different and challenging, threatening even, about the foreigner surely it is simply our recognition of the fact that something else is possible, that there is another way, and it is this that is posed as foreign. And it is against this that both state and the radical right concentrate their energy, while, whether from delusion or from a machiavellian politics of crowd-control, directing our gaze against an alternative object of difference. Considering the etymology of the word foreigner, we might say that the foreigner is no longer at our door, but that the door now stands open, introducing an as yet undefined break with the sovereignty of a larger hall that has assumed all rooms of the globe into one. The foreigner is the scapegoat, not just of the nation- state, but of capitalism. Is it any surprise, then, that history repeats itself every time a country finds itself in the strait-jacket of economic crisis and the people direct their disillusionment and frustration against what they see as the anthropomorphised figure of difference?
The politics of dissent and insurrection are without doubt one way to redress this erroneous and treacherous outlook. But even then they must go hand in hand with the only absolute position of defiance or protest against the rising tide of xenophobia: the gift of philoxenia, hospitality freely given. Of course a foreigner does come from elsewhere, his language and laws are different, and if he is refused entry it is because the law has forbidden him a place within a particular area, a specific law of the land. Yet this doesn’t necessitate that he won’t find a way in, he might even be received by someone, given food, a room, make friends and a life of his own… against the law? An illegal immigrant? But that’s the whole point. For it is not he, but we who raise the question of the universality of law, who challenge its sovereignty by granting hospitality and gesturing to an ethics of responsibility for the other that trumps the law, that undermines it and that has the power to dismantle it. As Derrida recognised, hospitality raises an objection to the law by posing an alternative in an act that overrides the obligation of the citizen to abide by the judicial system and the decrees of the state. But hospitality is no law, cannot be made law, because once it is, the stranger is thus incorporated into the law and no longer a stranger to the law –one’s gift is no longer freely given, and nor is it a gift given to the stranger.
What is strange about the stranger does not hold to his person but to his title as stranger, foreigner. This name ‘foreign’ indicates that there are limits to sovereignty and the law; that the state has boundaries, and that the other side is beyond the law. And yet, if we recognise the logic of the boundary we must also recognise that it is a bond where inside and outside, where he who is foreign and he who is at home are held together in a certain relation. And the responsibility for this relation is entirely one’s own. Perhaps it is the only thing that can be owned. In any case how one stands in relation to the appearance of the stranger on the threshold is the best indication of who one is. Will you let him in and accept responsibility for protecting him against the murderous forces of the state? Or will you leave him on the porch in the rain?
Foreign are all who stand against the law, and raise the question of sovereignty, but most foreign of all are those so estranged from themselves that they will live and die in the order of law.
Immanuel Kant, On a Supposed Right to Lie because of Philanthropic Concerns (1797) http://bgillette.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/ KANTsupposedRightToLie.pdf
F.T. Marinetti, The Futurist Manifesto (1901) http://vserver1.cscs.lsa. umich.edu/~crshalizi/T4PM/futurist-manifesto.html
Dylan Riley, ‘Enigmas of Fascism’, New Left Review 30 Nov-Dec (2004)
Nigel Farage: http://ceasefiremagazine.co.uk/anti-racism-anti-english/ Robert Paxton, The Anatomy of Fascism, Vintage (2005) Michael Mann, Fascists, Cambridge University Press (2004)
Dimitris Dalakoglou, ‘Hello, Dr. Strangelove: The Neo-Nazi Golden Dawn and State Apparatuses in Greece’ in Occupied London #5 (2013) http:// http://www.occupiedlondon.org/hello-dr-strangelove-the-neo-nazi-golden- dawn-and- state-apparatuses-in-greece/
Derrida, Of Hospitality, Stanford University Press (2000)