A while back I wrote about the scientist James Watson and the comments he made about lower intelligence among Africans, which apparently led to him being asked to resign. At first I was hesitant about saying that he was racist, then I said he probably was, then I felt uncomfortable with this and ammended my comment. After that my discomfort with any accusations of racism I had levelled grew, so that I wanted to write something else on the subject. I even felt sorry for Watson. He, like many people in recent years, has effectively been blacklisted for speaking in an unguarded manner. In being asked to resign, he has basically, it seems to me, been told to shut up. Although I think my own worldview is very different to Watson's and I even rather despise some of what he seems to stand for, I don't really want to live in a world where if certain people don't like what you have to say, you must shut up.
Well, before I could get round to writing anything new about Watson, something else caught my attention and has, for some reason, been preoccupying me. A while back on the Morrissey Solo site someone anonymously posted some news (or a rumour) that a "skin storm" had once again taken place between Morrissey and the music magazine NME. On the discussion thread of that entry, NME's editor, Conor McNicholas, denied that there had been any fall-out, describing such rumours as "unsubstantiated noise".
Soon afterwards there came a statement from Morrissey's manager, Merck Mercuriadis, with the text of a lawyer's letter addressed to the NME.
It seems to be a complicated sort of story, but apparently the text written by the original interviewer, Tim Jonze, was entirely re-written by the NME editorial staff, and Jonze subsequently disowned the feature. The issue of NME in question features a picture of Morrissey on the cover with the quote, "The gates of England are flooded. The country's been thrown away." Above and below this are the rather unsubtle headlines, "Bigmouth Strikes Again" and "Oh Dear, Not Again". On the NME site, a caption tells us that "Cover star Morrissey gives his most contentious interview in years."
The bone of this particular contention is that of immigration.
And it truly does seem to be a contentious issue. The discussion threads on the related news items on the Morrissey Solo site, here and here, make for interesting reading, not so much for the articulacy of what is said – since the comment are seldom very articulate – but because of the strength of the division between those who seem to believe that saying anything negative about immigration amounts to racism and those who think the negative aspects of immigration are simply facts that must be faced.
Here are a couple of articles giving the whole story in brief, with quotes from the interview in the former, from Sky News and Drowned in Sound.
I don't actually have a 'position' on immigration because, quite simply, I don't feel like I have enough information on the subject to come to any conclusions, but it's not something to which I have given no thought. In fact, I have given quite vigorous thought to immigration and race relations in general ever since living in Japan and experiencing what it was like to be part of a racial minority.
I'll attempt to jot down some of my thoughts on the subject now in no particular order:
I don't know how widespread this view is, but I've always felt that it is quite possible to become British, not only in a legal, but in a cultural and social sense. Trevor McDonald? British as tea and crumpets. Salman Rushdie? I would have said he was British, too, but I saw him once in an interview saying that he didn't feel British. Fair enough. His choice. Kylie Minogue? You get the picture. In Japan, such a thing is impossible. You are either born and bred Japanese, or you are not and never will be Japanese. I did not like this. I felt that the Japanese had cut themselves off from the rest of humanity. I began to feel a poisonous resentment at the invisible social wall that existed, and grew contemptuous of Japanese society. Did that make me racist, I wondered? Maybe I am racist, I thought – racist for thinking that the Japanese are racist. It seemed to me an immensely depressing dilemma, and I began to feel that the whole question of race will never be solved. There are differences between peoples (and people), on all kinds of levels, and differences seem inevitably to lead to conflicts. What can be done apart from making everyone the same, which would be another very depressing solution, even if it were possible. Perhaps, I thought sometimes, the Japanese were even right not to want foreigners becoming part of their society, since the whole society was, anyway, so etiolated and hidebound that it would probably fall apart if it tried to integrate one or two people who had not been indoctrinated into the unwritten rules since birth. "Make sure they come. Make sure they go." That, as someone who taught me Japanese, was the attitude towards foreign students and foreigners in general. Nice to have guests to admire your quaint little home. But you don't want them hanging around for long.
I came to a determination that individualism was the only viable way of interacting with the world, although I could see problems with this, too. In any case, I didn't want to interact with anyone as the representative of one group with the representative of another. Even to think in terms of groups seemed to me inevitably to lead to racism. On the other hand, I recognised that there are, indeed, such things as national traits. Is it racist to recognise and criticise such traits? I decided it was not, since criticism would be based on attitudes and social practices and not on any racial attributes. No culture or group of people can possibly be exempt from criticism.
I basically despise political correctness. I know there are many intelligent people who support it, but I simply do not believe that you can systematise tolerance. Such systems, on the contrary, breed intolerance and witch-hunts. They stop people thinking and they stop people talking openly. There can no longer be any honesty and no longer any celebration. I remember a conversation I overheard in a restaurant. The speaker appeared to be a headmaster. He was talking about how any Christmas celebration had been banned at his school (apparently against his wishes) since it would make non-Christians feel left out or alienated. After that ban, requests had been made for (I believe it was) Ramadan to be celebrated at the school. The headmaster, grimly and wearily, told of his satisfaction at having quashed that particular request. "If we can't have Christmas, they can't have Ramadan." No celebration, but instead a sullen resentment on both sides – that is the price of political correctness.
Britain once had an empire, through which we acquired considerable national wealth, though naturally this was never distributed in a particularly even way. Considering that our wealth has come from foreign lands, it seems only right that we should share that wealth with the rest of the world now by accepting immigrants. However, there does seem to be a certain measure – quite a strong measure, in fact – of self-hatred in the 'liberal' position that even to question immigration is racist (and the equivalent of wishing to set up death camps). I can understand that. I mean, I know all about self-hatred, and I often think that Britain has had a worse influence in world history than just about any other country on the planet. But I don't think it's at all constructive to base social policies on self-hatred. I think there should be an open, and, if possible, unbiased enquiry into the real impacts of immigration and that any policies should be decided according to the findings of such an enquiry. Having said that, I'm not especially optimistic about political solutions to any social problems.
The 'liberal' view that questioning immigration is tantamount to racism implies that there should be no limits on immigration whatsoever, since to apply a limit surely one has to question where that limit should be. If there is a reasoned principle behind this view (and perhaps there isn't) then logically it can only be the utopian idea that nations should not exist. Perhaps they shouldn't. Will there be wars as long as there are nations? It's hard to tell with certainty, but it could be the case that nationhood is inherently destructive. Perhaps it would be magnificent if the British were so welcoming and self-effacing that there were no controls on who crossed our borders and lived here. That would mean we were laying no claim to territory, that we had, effectively, dissolved the nation. I don't think that will happen unilaterally, however, if it happens at all. And round about here is where I get stuck, I think. Isn't it, in the most basic sense, identity that leads to conflict? I am me because I am different to you, because I am different I do things differently. I don't like it when you do this or that. These are my camels, not yours. Etcetera. And nationhood is group identity. And yet, however many times I ask myself whether it is imperative for nationhood to be dissolved, I cannot come to a conclusion. Let's imagine that nations were dissolved politically – there would still be language groups, religious groups, other kinds of groups. Would these be new, slightly more amorphous nations? And do we really want to wipe from the globe all the differences that cultural and other identity brings?
I actually think this – and pure survival in a ransacked environment – is the biggest issue facing the human race at the moment, and I must apologise if I can't solve it in a brief blog post. Anyway, whether you agree with Morrissey's (alleged?) comments or not, I think he has touched upon an issue that must be talked about, and not swept beneath the carpet by the arbiters of political correctness.
Justin Isis writes:
I`d actually be happy if nations were dissolved and no one could call themselves `English` or `American` or `Japanese` or `Pakistani` anymore. Then people would be forced to be more original when defining themselves. There would still be groups, but hopefully people could found groups based on things they like or believe rather than where they were arbitrarily born. It`s a generalization, but I`ve found that people keen to define themselves nationally or racially are usually lacking original ideas and thought. Conforming to patriotic or nationalist cliches is a lot easier than defining yourself in a more interesting way.
I think, as what I’ve written probably implies, that I have mixed feelings on this. It does seem to me that a perfect world would not have money or weapons or nations. However, I find that I cannot deny a certain degree of national identity within myself, and I don’t even want to dismiss that as entirely bad. One thing that comes to mind is that there’s something to do with caring about things here. To make this clearer, I have second hand accounts of a very poor physical environment in communist China. Whether or not such accounts were accurate or representative, they suggested a lack of care because no one identified the environment (for instance the trains, which were apparently filthy) as their own. In other words, rather than becoming everyone’s, the trains had become no one’s, and no one cared about them as a result. I think you can see this in a lot a vandalism – people don’t feel involved with their society or environment, so they don’t care about it.In terms of nations, although I think that nations as they exist currently are somehow negative, I’m not sure it’s helpful to hold national identity in complete contempt, which then means not caring about all that the nation has to offer, the culture it has carried throughout history in terms of language, literature, art, music, religion, philosophy and so on. I think these things should be cared for in a non-aggressive and what might be called a detached way. In other words, they should belong to everyone, or everyone who cares about them, but should not simply be vandalised.
Apparent excerpt from the interview:Q you live in Italy now. would you ever consider moving back to Britain ?A Britain’s a terribly negative [place?]. And it hammers people down and it pulls you back and it prevents you. Also, with the issue of immigration, it’s very difficult because although I don’t have anything against people from other countries, the higher the influx into England, the more the Britich identity disappears. So the price is enormous. If you travel to Germany, it’s still absolutely Germany. If you travel to sweden, it still has a Swedish identity. But travel to england and you have no idea where you are !Q Why does this bother you ?A It matters because the British identity is very attractive. I grew up into it , and I find it quaint and amusing. But England is a memory now. Other countries have held on to their basic identity, yet it seems to me that England was thrown awayQ isn’t immigration enriching the British identity rather than diluting it ?A It does in a way, and it’s nice in its way. But you have to say goodbye to the Britain you once knew.Q that’s just the world changingA But the change in England is so rapid compared to the change in any other country. If you walk through Knightsbridge on any bland day of the week you won’t hear an English accent. You’ll hear every accent under the sun apart from the British accent.
“I`d actually be happy if nations were dissolved and no one could call themselves `English` or `American` or `Japanese` or `Pakistani` anymore. Then people would be forced to be more original when defining themselves. There would still be groups, but hopefully people could found groups based on things they like or believe rather than where they were arbitrarily born.”Actually, the more I think about this, the more it makes sense. Still, I have to recognise that a part of me is very quaintly English.
Actually, I’d just like to say that my remark about the comments on Morrissey Solo not being very articulate was a little bit sniffy. They vary. They are interesting.
On the ‘race’ theme, there’s this amusing story:http://uk.news.yahoo.com/rtrs/20071130/tuk-uk-britain-racial-fa6b408_2.htmlIt's like a joke. You can almost hear the drum roll at the end. Unfortunately, I can’t actually believe that the man in question could say, “It’s political correctness gone mad” without being ironic. In fact the layers of irony in this story are multiple.
Sorry to be tiresome – all these comments being mine – I just thought I’d like to add that I have no intention of being alarmist with this post. Quite the opposite. I wish people would relax more and not be so uptight. You know, let’s talk about things. The problem with Morrissey’s quotes (and the way they are presented) is that they could be taken by some as a sort of ‘call to arms’. I don’t actually believe that’s how they should be taken or how they were meant. In a certain sense, you could say that this is only an issue because the NME have decided to make it an issue. The cover quote, for instance, “The gates of England are flooded. The country’s been thrown away”, appears to be two different quotes from different parts of the interview spliced together to make it sound like sloganeering. However, the NME obviously knew that there was a tension – an issue – to be played upon, which they played up in a very tabloid manner: “Morrissey’s disgraceful, controversial comments – read all about it inside.”I think that’s part of the general problem, that no one really seems to be doing things for the right reasons, but out of cynical manipulation. That’s why the government talks about “cracking down” on illegal immigrants on the one hand, but allows them, anyway, because of the economic benefits. It’s a very cynical and manipulative game. That’s why you hear government talk about multi-culturalism, but why they are still in the habit of playing on fears about Muslim terrorists, as if we don’t have more important things to worry about than such a phantom. When you’re faced with such cynicism, words become in one way meaningless, and in another way, utterly treacherous.
The Momus take on the subject:http://imomus.livejournal.com/2007/12/01/
“No celebration, but instead a sullen resentment on both sides – that is the price of political correctness.”An excellent statement. I have nothing to add to the argument, however; it’s a problem that’s never going to be solved. However, I’d say this: I don’t want us all to be the same, either. I’m glad we’re different, from different and distinct cultures and countries, and I mourn the inevitability of one bland, beige sameness worldwide.
Sameness, as in what would be the result of genetic manipulation of the human race according to values framed by an elite and kept in place by a sense of competition (for example), is certainly something that horrifies me. Actually, I’ll probably write more about this later. So much to do, so hard to get up early…Anyway, I’m mildly surprised to see that the grip of political correctness on people’s minds seems to be weakening. At this juncture, it appears that the NME miscalculated people’s responses, and most opinions I have seen are not in their favour. I personally think this is good because PC seems to be used almost entirely to make the ‘enforcer’ look good at someone else’s expense. It is, in that sense, essentially cowardly.
From what I gather, this was one of several unsavoury eugenicist statements that Watson has made over the course of his career. I believe he has also advocated the abortion of potential homosexuals. In any case, to posit the idea that blacks are genetically deficient — based on flimsy statistical and anecdotal evidence, whilst dismissing the sociological influences, the obvious effects of colonialism, slavery, and so on — reveals either a staggering ignorance of history, or a racist agenda. I don’t see that his position is defensible.That invisible social wall exists here, too. I am continually reminded, subtly, and occasionally overtly, that my racial background is unacceptable. In these circumstances it becomes impossible not to feel like some sort of interloper, and this, I am certain, is why so many people from ethnic minorities are hesitant to identify themselves as British, whatever that may be.Regarding culture, I suppose I share Justin’s view. I see culture as something superficial, artificial, transient; and I suspect that in many cases, when people say “culture”, they really mean “religion”; something engineered by a minority and inflicted on society, rather than something intrinsic to human nature that develops organically.
But seriously… I think culture is everything from clothing to politics to food to architecture. I don’t think it’s just religion.
“From what I gather, this was one of several unsavoury eugenicist statements that Watson has made over the course of his career. I believe he has also advocated the abortion of potential homosexuals. In any case, to posit the idea that blacks are genetically deficient — based on flimsy statistical and anecdotal evidence, whilst dismissing the sociological influences, the obvious effects of colonialism, slavery, and so on — reveals either a staggering ignorance of history, or a racist agenda. I don’t see that his position is defensible.”I’m actually intending to write another post on this now. The ammendation that I made previously when I wrote about Watson was that whether he was racist or not was not for me to decide, but that I thought his comments were. I think I’ll ammend this further in my coming post.”That invisible social wall exists here, too. I am continually reminded, subtly, and occasionally overtly, that my racial background is unacceptable. In these circumstances it becomes impossible not to feel like some sort of interloper, and this, I am certain, is why so many people from ethnic minorities are hesitant to identify themselves as British, whatever that may be.”I have often wondered what the British experience of being a racial minority is. I think it’s hard to understand this kind of thing if you haven’t actually been there. In some ways the situation might be worse than the Japanese (I imagine there’s more overt aggression and violence here). Of course, my having been in a racial minority for a few years in Japan and Taiwan is not really an equivalent experience to having grown up as part of a racial minority in Britain, but it did have a strong effect on me and set me to thinking about things.I don’t think culture and religion are exactly equivalent. I think that Britain, for instance, is a very atheist culture. Oh… hang on… Maybe I’ve just proved your point.
What Quentin just said. With the global economy what it is, it’s inevitable that the things that make places and people different–not just religion (though that, too, why not?), but fashions, languages, food, etc.–will all gradually come to resemble everyplace and everyone else. I’m sorry to see that happen, but it’s going to happen whether I want it to or not.The thing about political correctness–while necessary on certain levels that used to be equated with manners–is that in its worst forms, it presumes a certain perfection of thought and speech and life that isn’t possible. Life (and humanity) is much messier.
‘utopia-by-bionics’ makes me think of Diamond Dogs:”In the year of the scavenger, the season of the bitchSashay on the boardwalk, scurry to the ditchJust another future song, lonely little kitsch(theres gonna be sorrow) try and wake up tomorrow”Somehow that lyric seems appropriate…
“Life (and humanity) is much messier.”I think that’s the basic… problem? There’s a long tradition in philosophy, history and so on of assuming that there’s a solution to our ills, if only we could think of what it is. And this gives rise to the idea of progress, of course – the sense that we’re gradually approaching the ideal way to be. I am – very often – more pessimistic about things. Actually, I’ve just been reading more about transhumanism. Ugh! I thank god I only have my own life to live, because I hate to think of what’s going to become of the human race in its pursuit of solutions. Well, I don’t want to present my own current mood as universal truth, but the whole utopia-by-bionics philosophy of the transhumans now appears to me as a vista of madmen foundering in the swamp of spiritual bankruptcy as the human race sinks, lost, into extinction. Have I gone off the subject?
“this, I am certain, is why so many people from ethnic minorities are hesitant to identify themselves as British, whatever that may be.”It occurred to me that maybe I was missing your point here and that you were talking about my mention of Salman Rushdie saying he didn’t feel British, and maybe I’d misinterpreted him, too. I can’t remember his exact words now, but yes, it could have been basically wrong of me to say that it was “his choice” whether or not he was British. I mean, that’s how I feel about it, but that may not be the reality that he experiences. “‘utopia-by-bionics’ makes me think of Diamond Dogs:”Many things make me think of Diamond Dogs these days. I sometimes get a really, really bad feeling that that’s where we’re heading.
Also, just in case it’s not clear, I’m not writing any of this from a feeling that I’m especially integrated into British society, because I really don’t feel like I am.
“It occurred to me that maybe I was missing your point here and that you were talking about my mention of Salman Rushdie…”Yes, I was referring to the Rushdie comment. I agree that it’s possible for foreigners to be assimilated into the British culture (I’m desperately trying to define “British culture”), to take on British traits (I’m desperately trying to define “British traits”), but I am sceptical about the idea of the non-white British nationalist, since presumably a major part of nationalism is a feeling of belonging; and as an ethnic minority any feeling of belonging is going to take a severe buffeting. However, I suppose my experience is different, in the sense that I do have British ancestry, and therefore a tangible connection to the country. I’m not sure what the experience of a pure nth generation immigrant is like.
“I agree that it’s possible for foreigners to be assimilated into the British culture…”While I’m not, and never have been, legally or conspicuously otherwise (?) a foreigner in Britain (well it becomes difficult now because I want to talk about being English really, which I don’t think has much of a legal framework at all), my own experience of being… well, being English, has not been a straightforward matter.Although I don’t feel that I’m fully behind everything that Morrissey apparently said in the interview, knowing his whole oeuvre and history as I do, I feel that I understand where he’s coming from emotionally, and that I come from a similar place/experience. Here’s one of the quotes again:”It matters because the British identity is very attractive. I grew up into it, and I find it quaint and amusing. But England is a memory now.”I think the key word here is ‘into’. He was part of the immigrant Irish community in Manchester. If this is jingoistic, then it’s an odd kind of jingoism. He doesn’t talk about England being ‘great’ or ruling the waves or anything, but calls it ‘quaint and amusing’. Which, when you think about it, is the kind of thing a tourist might say. He mixes ‘Britain’ and ‘England’ slightly more freely than I do, mind you.I suppose emotionally, my own feelings, growing up, were what a very odd place England was, and what a very odd breed the English were. I suppose there were family reasons for this sense of distance. I can hardly even describe the process by which I began to appropriate bits and pieces of the caricature that I had lived with all my life. This could get really boring, so I’ll try and keep it short… I think in a way those who always took it for granted that they were English/British probably don’t care too much about that identity. That is, they just assume it is by definition whoever they are and whatever they do, and they don’t have to think about it. But some people, through a sense of distance coupled with bondage (as in, not being able to get away from Englishness because it was all around) felt forced to examine what it was, and became quite self-conscious about the whole thing. It’s interesting that the quintessential English fop (Wilde) was Irish, which is also true of the quintessential English guitar band (The Smiths). I think because such people (myself included) had a thinking relationship with what being English meant, and didn’t merely take it for granted, in a way it became frozen at whatever the moment of sharpest definition had been in that thinking process. And this gives rise to a particular kind of nostalgia that is often very derided.Well, I could go on like this for a while, but I said I’d keep it brief. What I’ve written above feels a bit incomplete, actually. I’m sure I was trying to make a particular point, but I feel like it’s become a bit lost… Basically, although I recognise that things like national identity are ultimately absurb, I do find that somewhere along the line I have invested emotion in my own. I think it might even be likened to a convict investing emotion in the prison in which he was incarcerated. It can become, depending on temperament, a deeply meaningful part of one’s experience. Keeping this even briefer, I’d very much like to advocate what I think is the idea underpinning multi-culturalism, that Englishness or Britishness should not be racially determined.As to what Englishness even is…Hmmm, no, maybe later.Oh yeah – I think the point I’d orignally wanted to make was simply that that was my experience, and, naturally, I’m not sure what anyone else’s is, but I expect experiences vary greatly.