Instant Download The Radical Right: Biopsychosocial Roots and International Variations 1st Ed. 2020 Edition Klaus Wahl PDF All Chapter
Instant Download The Radical Right: Biopsychosocial Roots and International Variations 1st Ed. 2020 Edition Klaus Wahl PDF All Chapter
Instant Download The Radical Right: Biopsychosocial Roots and International Variations 1st Ed. 2020 Edition Klaus Wahl PDF All Chapter
com
OR CLICK BUTTON
DOWLOAD EBOOK
https://ebookmass.com/product/international-populism-the-radical-
right-in-the-european-parliament-1st-edition-edition-duncan-
mcdonnell/
https://ebookmass.com/product/international-business-3rd-edition-
klaus-meyer/
https://ebookmass.com/product/media-and-communications-policy-
making-processes-dynamics-and-international-variations-1st-
edition-robert-g-picard/
https://ebookmass.com/product/the-right-to-pain-relief-and-other-
deep-roots-of-the-opioid-epidemic-mark-d-sullivan/
The European Union as International Mediator: Brokering
Stability and Peace in the Neighbourhood 1st ed. 2020
Edition Julian Bergmann
https://ebookmass.com/product/the-european-union-as-
international-mediator-brokering-stability-and-peace-in-the-
neighbourhood-1st-ed-2020-edition-julian-bergmann/
https://ebookmass.com/product/new-voices-and-new-perspectives-in-
international-economic-law-1st-ed-2020-edition-john-d-haskell/
https://ebookmass.com/product/chinas-expansion-in-international-
business-the-geopolitical-impact-on-the-world-economy-1st-
ed-2020-edition-peter-balaz/
https://ebookmass.com/product/peacebuilding-and-the-arts-1st-
ed-2020-edition-jolyon-mitchell/
https://ebookmass.com/product/the-radical-right-report-on-the-
john-birch-society-and-its-allies-benjamin-r-epstein-arnold-
forster/
The Radical Right
Biopsychosocial Roots
and International Variations
Klaus Wahl
The Radical Right
Klaus Wahl
© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive licence to Springer Nature Switzerland
AG 2020
This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether
the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of
illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and trans-
mission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or
dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed.
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication
does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant
protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.
The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book
are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or
the editors give a warranty, express or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any
errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional
claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.
This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Switzerland AG.
The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland
Preface
federal election the nationalist party Alternative for Germany (AfD) was
the third largest party and the overall winner in parts of East Germany,
where there were also movements like the anti-Islamist PEGIDA
(Patriotic Europeans Against the Islamization of the Occident) with aggres-
sive gestures and slogans against parliamentarians and journalists. In
2017, too, a constitutional referendum in Turkey opened the way for an
autocratic system under nationalist President Recep Tayyip Erdogan. In
2018, the right-wing populist Italian party Lega formed a coalition gov-
ernment with the populist Five Star Movement in Italy. In 2019, Brazil’s
far-right president Jair Bolsonaro took office and several military officers
were appointed to his cabinet. In the same year, a right-wing extremist
in New Zealand killed 50 Muslim worshippers. This list could
be expanded.
The shadow of the radical right haunting the world feels like déjà vu.
There have been similar specters—from right wing populism to extrem-
ism—as parts of the history of many countries. To name but a few: the
nineteenth and twentieth century saw battles of the North American
right (Protestant groups, Ku Klux Clan, etc.) against racial, ethnic, and
cultural pluralism as well as against political, economic, and cultural
elites. In the twentieth century, Germany’s National Socialists left blood,
death, and devastation in many countries. Even after the Holocaust, rac-
ism and nationalism remained strong ideologies in large parts of the
world. In recent decades, somewhat more moderate forms of the radical
right have spread throughout both sides of the Atlantic—the populist
right. In the twenty-first century, in particular, the terrorist attacks dur-
ing and after 9/11, the financial and economic crises, and the flows of
refugees and immigrants to western countries seem to have been crucial
events that continue to shape the socio-political landscape on the right
side of the political spectrum with radical right-wing parties and move-
ments and influencing the whole political system.
There is a lot of media coverage of populist and radical right parties,
movements, anti-Semitism, anti-Islamism, hate speech, and racially
motivated crimes. Many scientists from history, political science, and
sociology present empirical studies on these phenomena. However, the
question remains—does this amount of research in different countries
(e.g., in Western, Central, and Eastern Europe and the United States)
Preface vii
particularly in Europe and the United States, I was very glad to gain the
support of experts on these countries. Actually, Britta Schellenberg with
her profound knowledge of the European variations of the radical right
gave me so much helpful information for the chapter on Europe and
comments on other parts of the book that she should have been a co-
author. I was also very glad to gain the support of Heather Painter with
her first-hand knowledge of the United States. She contributed to the
chapter on the United States and improved my English through-
out the book.
During the endless process of writing, authors are isolated at their desk
using a stack of books, papers, memos, a notebook, and the memory
areas of their brains. However, I also received many suggestions: to
explore the causes of political phenomena in a vertical or interdisciplinary
dimension, that is on the different layers of the psyche and societies, in my
research in recent decades I have been working with political scientists,
historians, sociologists, statisticians, psychologists, educationalists,
behavior scientists, brain researchers, and biologists in studies on xeno-
phobic and right-wing extremist violent offenders and on the develop-
ment of aggression and prejudice among children and adolescents. In
addition, in a horizontal or international dimension, lots of ideas, ques-
tions, and criticism from conferences and discussions with scientists,
politicians, ministry officials, police officers, representatives of NGOs,
from university seminars, courses for kindergarten and school teachers,
and social workers from Moscow to Washington, DC and from Stockholm
to Brasília have left their mark on this text. I am deeply grateful to Lerke
Gravenhorst, Uwe Haasen, Melanie Rhea Wahl, and the anonymous
reviewers for helpful comments on draft versions of parts of this book.
Last but not least, I want to thank Sharla Plant and Poppy Hull at Palgrave
Macmillan for supporting this project and for helping me throughout the
publishing stages from proposal to final publication.
ix
x Contents
Index369
About the Authors
xiii
List of Figures
xv
1
The Radical Right: More than a Topic
of Political Science
Some authors locate the dissatisfaction with the democratic system (Foa
& Mounk, 2017) in the larger development of a global recession of
democracies since 2006 and a deepening of authoritarianism (Diamond,
2015). Could it be that racist and authoritarian attitudes and political
preferences for populist right-wing parties have reached a critical mass in
quite a number of countries, a tipping point, whereby sufficiently large
minorities can change political cultures (Centola, Becker, Brackbill, &
Baronchelli, 2018)? Others criticize this pessimistic view (Levitsky &
Way, 2015).
For a long time, political science, history, sociology, psychology, and
even biological sciences have tried to find obvious conditions, not so
obvious preconditions, and deeper causes of these right-wing manifesta-
tions with divergent research paradigms and unconnected findings,
which have resulted in questionable proposals for prevention. Therefore,
this book has several aims:
c ultures of the countries, but they usually do not cover deeper indi-
vidual psychological and biological factors (Chaps. 5, 6 and 7).
• Fourth, the book will confront empirical research findings with some
of the “usual suspects” of the causes of the radical right, which are fre-
quently discussed in public: are the main culprits only “hard” factors
such as globalization with the consequences of low wages, unemploy-
ment, or economic inequality? How important are “soft” factors like
emotions, views of life, and cultural change? To what extent do objec-
tive and subjective aspects affect political processes? In addition, there
are some short glances to other parts of the world and to the differ-
ences between the radical right and the radical left. Finally, the book
offers—along the various levels of our biopsychosociological model—
a sketch of possible approaches to political and pedagogical measures
for the prevention of xenophobia and right-wing ideologies (Chap. 8).
Historically, the political distinction between left and right began with the
seating arrangements of the delegates in the National Assembly during
the French Revolution. For Lipset, Lazarsfeld, Barton, and Linz (1962,
1 The Radical Right: More than a Topic of Political Science 5
1.2.2 Populism
All the cotton had been picked except scraps in the tip-top of the
stalks. When these were gathered, the last chance for the women to
make a little money would be over until early next spring when the
stables were cleaned out and the black manure put in piles for them
to scatter over the fields.
The sultry day was saturated with heat. The swollen sun shone
white through a fog that brought the sky low over the cotton field.
The cotton pickers swarmed thick, sweat poured off faces and hands
and feet. Slowly, steadily they moved, up and down the long rows of
tall rank stalks, carefully picking every wisp of staple out of the wide-
open brown burrs.
Everybody was barefooted, most of the boys and men wearing only
shirts and overalls, and the women had their skirts tied up almost to
their knees.
Not the smallest gust of wind stirred the steamy air. Sweat
blackened sleeves and shirts and dresses, yet the talk stayed bright
and chatty.
Breeze had picked all morning except for one little while when he
stopped to eat a piece of cold corn-pone and drink a few swallows
out of his bottle of sweetened water. He wanted to pick a good
weight, but the cotton was light and sparse. April was paying a
whole cent a pound instead of the half a cent he paid when the
cotton was green and heavy.
If Big Sue would pick faster instead of talking so much, together
they ought to get a hundred pounds. Maybe even a hundred and
twenty-five.
Side by side they trudged along, but too often Big Sue stopped and
straightened up her bent shoulders and stretched her arms for a
rest. Leaning over so long had her all but in a cramp. Yet when
Breeze stopped to eat she scolded him. This was no time for
lingering. Every pound picked meant a cent.
“Wha’ de news f’om Joy?” Leah called across the rows.
“Joy wa’n’t so well when I heared last.”
“Wa’n’t Joy kinder sickly all last summer?”
Big Sue admitted it grumly.
“I hear-say Joy have changed e boardin’ place since e went back to
school.”
Big Sue took her time to answer. After picking several stalks clean
she said Joy had changed, fo’ true. She was staying right on the
campus now. Right with the teachers and the professors and all the
high-up people.
Leah spat on the ground. “Lawd, Joy must be know ev’yt’ing by
now, long as e’s been off at school. How much years? Five or six?”
“Joy do know a lot, but ’e ain’ been off but four years. You know it
too, Leah.”
“Joy’s a stylish gal, Big Sue. Even if e is puny.” Zeda was plainly
siding against Leah.
“Joy ought to look stylish, much money as I spent on em. When e
went back to school dis fall, Joy’s trunk looked fine as a white lady’s
trunk. Not a outin’ gown in em! Not a outin’ petticoat! Even to de
shimmys, Joy had ev’yt’ing made out o’ pink and blue and yellow
crêpe. Joy is a fine seamster, if I do say it myse’f. Joy’s clothes is fine
as any store-bought clothes.”
“Wha’s Joy gwine do when e finish college?” Leah asked presently.
Big Sue was uncertain. Joy was working to get a depluma. When she
got that she could be anything she liked. Joy was sickly last summer
because she had so much learning stirring around in her head. Leah
laughed—innocently. There was no need to worry, as long as a girl
was sickly from things stirring in her head.
“Wha you mean by dat, Leah?” Big Sue stopped short and her
narrowed eyes gazed fixedly at Leah who went on picking.
“I ain’ say nothin’ to vex you, Big Sue! You’s too touchous! Joy ain’
gold neither silver.”
“You keep Joy’s name out you’ mouth, Leah!” Big Sue snapped the
words out in a stinging tone that cut through the heat.
Zeda stood still and gave a wide-mouthed yawn and a lazy laugh.
“Do hush you’ wranglin’. When it’s hot like dis, I can’ stan’ to hear
nobody tryin’ to start a brawl. You womens ain’ chillen! Joy’s a nice
gal. Fo’ Gawd’s sake, le’ em ’lone!”
She looked up at the sun hanging low in a whitish glow, then down
at the short shadows and the heat wilted leaves. Not a bird chirped.
Not a locust or grasshopper spoke.
“I bet Joy’ll marry some o’ dem fine professors or either preachers,”
Bina drawled.
“Joy might, fo’ true,” Big Sue bragged.
Zeda said nothing, but her eyes darted a sharp look at Big Sue, then
turned toward the rice-fields where the river crept up without a
murmur or a shimmer of light on its surface.
Breeze picked on and on long after his back was tired and his fingers
sore from the sharp points of the stiff burrs. The crocus sheets
spread out along the road at the side of the field were piled higher
and higher with cotton which was heaped up, packed down, running
over. The last picking yielded more than anybody expected.
Thank God, the sun was setting at last. Wagons were rattling in the
distance, coming to haul the cotton to the big gin-house! This year’s
crop was done.
XVI
PLOWING
In the cabin, a big fire blazed up the chimney, and a delicious scent
of food came to meet them.
“Who dat in my house?” Big Sue cried out, when April came to the
door.
“You got company.”
“Who? You?”
“No. You guess again.”
“I dunno, an’ I’m too weak to walk, much less talk.”
“It’s Joy. E come on de boat dis evenin’.”
Big Sue stopped short in her tracks, dumb-struck. “Great Gawd! You
don’ mean it! Whe’ is Joy?”
Instead of hurrying forward she gazed at the cabin with black
dismay as if she turned some terrible thought over and over in her
mind, but a warm laugh gurgled out, and a low voice called:
“What did you tell Ma for, Cun April? I been want to fool em!”
A girl in a bright red dress and with red-stockinged legs came
bounding across the yard to meet them.
“How you do, Ma? I bet you is surprised to see me!” She held her
mouth up to meet Big Sue’s, their kiss made a loud smack, then
Uncle Bill hurried to shake her hand.
“Lawd, Joy! Just de sight o’ you would cure de sore eyes! Honey,
you looks sweet enough to eat!” Breeze stared at her. Deep down in
his heart he felt Uncle Bill spoke the truth. He had never seen any
one like Joy before.
She leaned to pull up one red stocking tighter over a knee, but she
grinned up into Uncle Bill’s face. “Do listen at Uncle Bill! A-sweet-
talkin’ me right here befo’ ev’ybody!” Her eyes beamed, her low soft
drawl was full of friendliness, and she turned to Breeze with a blithe
greeting:
“How you do, son? I’m sho’ glad to see you here wid Ma!” A small
bold hand shot out to meet his, but Breeze cast his eyes down,
bashful and afraid. The hand gave his shoulder a light pat, took one
of his and led him toward the house.
“You ain’ scared o’ me, is you, son? Come on in by de fire. I want to
see you good.”
Breeze couldn’t say a word, but as they walked in April threw a fat
pine knot on the fire to make a better light. The fire blazed up,
crackling merrily, making the room hot and bright, but shyness kept
Breeze’s face turned away from Joy, until with a quick laugh she
wheeled him around and lifted his chin.
“How come you won’ look at me, son?” Her face was so close Breeze
could feel her breath when she laughed again, but his eyes were
riveted on her twinkling shoe-buckles.
“Left de boy ’lone, Joy. E don’ feel like playin’. His ma was just buried
dis evenin’. Come unstring my shoes, son. I ain’ gwine let Joy plague
you.”
As he knelt to unlace the shoes Joy appealed to him: “I ain’ plaguin’
you, is I, Breeze? Me an’ you is gwine be buddies, enty?” Breeze
looked up and met her slanting eyes, and the smile that lit them
seemed to him so lovely, so gentle, he fairly tingled all over. He had
never seen anybody like Joy before. Her slight body in its scant, red
satin dress was not tall, but it had the straight, swift, upward thrust
of a pine sapling. Her slim black arms, bare from the elbows, and
held akimbo, came out from shoulders lean as his own. Her short
skirt gave a flirt and Breeze’s glance darted to the skinniness of her
red-stockinged legs. But her smile had thrilled the fear out of him,
and given him confidence enough to feast his eyes on her gay over-
ripe little figure, from the bright buckles on her shiny black slippers
to the short coarse straightened hair on her small head.
“Set down, honey. Talk to Uncle Bill an’ you’ Cun April whilst me an’
Breeze fixes supper.” Big Sue’s bare feet pattered back and forth
from the hearth to the four-legged safe against the wall, mixing
bread, and smoothing it on a hot griddle, slicing meat and dropping
it on a hot spider, once in a while scolding Breeze for dawdling, or
asking Joy a question about the town or the school. April smiled and
joined pleasantly in the talk Joy led. A necklace of blue glass beads
clinked against the smooth black skin of her neck, gold bracelets
glittered on her slim wrists. Breeze was bewildered, rapt with the
glamour of her. Her sparkling eyes strayed from one face to another
until they met April’s, bold and staring. Joy’s flickered and fell and
her laughter chilled. Like everybody else, she feared him, and his
shining gaze, fixed on her alone, withered all the fun out of her and
put something sober in its place.
Except for the fire’s crackling a hush filled the room. Big Sue
suddenly straightened up from bending over the pots and, looking
over her shoulder, said, “Git de plates out o’ de safe, Breeze. How
come yunnuh is so quiet? Dis ain’ church!”
April laughed and shifted in his chair and his eyes turned from Joy to
her mother. “De victuals smells so good, I’m gone got speechless!”
“Me too,” Joy chimed, but Uncle Bill got up to go. He had already
stayed longer than he intended. He must go see if everything at the
barnyard was in order.
April stood up to say good night, tall, straight-limbed, broad-
shouldered, hawk-eyed.
“Stay an’ eat wid us, Cun April, you too, Uncle Bill! What’s you’
hurry?”
Uncle Bill had to go. He had left Jake to see about feeding the stock,
and Jake was mighty forgetful and careless. Nobody could depend
on him.
In spite of the fineness of her red satin dress, Joy took the plates
from Breeze and piling two of them with the collards dripping with
pot liquor, and chunks of fat meat and pieces of the newly baked
corn-bread, she gave Big Sue and April each one.
“Yunnuh must eat all dis I put on you’ plates,” Joy bade them gaily,
but silence had fallen over them. Both their faces wore a troubled
look. April’s eyes held both darkness and light, and a kind of sadness
Breeze had seen sometimes in Sis’ eyes.
“How was de buryin’?” April asked when the edge of his appetite
was dulled.
“Fine! Fine! All but dat fool boy Breeze. E made me pure shame.” Big
Sue’s words were smothered by food in her mouth, but Breeze felt
the sharp sting of their bitter contempt. He longed to get up and go
back into the dark shed-room and hide, but shame chained his feet
to the floor and made his neck so limp his head drooped lower and
lower.
“Wha’ dat Breeze done so bad?”
April leaned his head against the mantel-shelf, and listened without
a word to Big Sue’s story. Most of the time he looked into the fire,
deep in thought, forgetting to eat his supper.
When Big Sue’s tale was done, Breeze listened for April’s abuse, but
instead of scolding him, April spoke kindly, gently.
“Don’ be too hard on de boy, Big Sue. Death kin scare bigger people
dan Breeze. I don’ like to look on em myself. Gawd made people so.
Mules too. When Dukkin put pizen in de spring last summer and
killed Uncle Isaac’s old mule, Lula, I had a time gittin’ em dragged
off to de woods. Sherry said he could hitch Clara to em, but Clara
was so scared, e reared up and kicked an’ tried to run away. Sherry
had to blindfold Clara wid a cloth over both eyes befo’ she’d go