From Consortium News
Mosaic pavement showing what could be a Vandal cavalryman, excavated near Carthage.
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It's tempting to describe President Donald Trump, Prime Minister Boris Johnson, and their ilk as the new Vandals. But that would be unfair to the old Vandals, fifth-century Germanic tribesmen who defeated Rome, established a trans-Mediterranean empire, stabilized the economy, and, despite the bad rap they've gotten over the years, patronized learning and culture.
The new Vandals, on the other hand, seem interested in one thing only: spreading chaos. With their doughy bodies and similar hairdos, Trump and Johnson came across as a latter-day Gog and Magog as they praised one another to the skies at this weekend's G-7 conference in Biarritz and promised all sorts of mutually beneficial trade deals.
While Trump engages in a war of words with everyone from Denmark to Iran, Johnson is threatening to storm out of the European Union even though the likely result will be economic havoc and, in Northern Ireland, a return of the low-grade civil war that killed and wounded some 50,000 people over the course of three decades. Somewhere, somehow, there must be a method to their madness. But what can it be?
The answer may lie in the 1997 bestseller "The Sovereign Individual: Mastering the Transition to the Information Age." Written by popular stock analyst James Dale Davidson and former Financial Times editor William Rees-Mogg, it's basically a primer on how to profit from the coming politico-economic apocalypse.
What makes it oddly prescient, as publications ranging from the Guardian to The New European have pointed out, is lineage. William Rees-Mogg is the father of Jacob Rees-Mogg, leader of the House of Commons and Britain's best-known advocate for a "hard Brexit" after BoJo himself, as Johnson is popularly known.
Visiting the sins of the father on the son is usually unfair. But their ideas are so close in this instance it seems appropriate. The elder Rees-Mogg, who died in 2012, was not just a free-marketeer and an opponent of the EU, but a Catholic convert of such arch-reactionary views that he favored the long-banned Latin mass because it is associated with opposition to such radical upstarts as Henry VIII and Elizabeth I.
His son, a latter-day Bertie Wooster, the fictional creation of P.G. Wodehouse known for his double-breasted suits and upper-class drawl, goes even further. Not only does he champion the Latin mass, but he named one of his six children after the staunchly royalist Earl of Stafford, beheaded by Puritan revolutionaries in 1641. When a critic dubbed him "the member of parliament for the early twentieth century," he replied that the twentieth century was too modern for his tastes and that he'd rather be known as "the member for the early eighteenth century."
In short, an upper-class caricature of the sort that only England can produce. But where Tories are forever promising to turn back the clock, they have never actually done so by "a single second," as the satirist Evelyn Waugh once pointed out. So, what's this phony Neo-medievalism really about? "The Sovereign Individual" may provide a clue.
Basically, the book is not only an ode to the coming apocalypse but an extended assault on the 20th-century nation-state. That is something that people fought and died for but which Davidson and Rees-Mogg père associate with high taxes, burdensome regulation, and the pain and torture of having to do what other people tell them to. Hence, its demise is to be welcomed since it will unleash a revolutionary new force, that of the unchained individual. "The new Sovereign Individual," they write, "will operate like the gods of myth in the same physical environment as the ordinary, subject citizen but in a separate realm politically. Commanding vastly greater resources and beyond the reach of many forms of compulsion, the Sovereign Individual will redesign government and reconfigure economies in the new millennium."
With "much of the world's commerce ... migrat[ing] into the new realm of cyberspace," the book goes on, the old "nation-state, with all its pretensions, will starve to death as its tax revenues decline." Democracy, which "flourished as a fraternal twin of Communism precisely because it facilitated unimpeded control of resources by the state," will likewise wither away. So will hoary old concepts like "equal protection under the law" that rest on "power relations that are soon to be obsolete."
Jacob Rees-Mogg debating at the Cambridge Union Society in 2012.
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"With income-earning capacity more highly skewed than in the industrial era, jurisdictions will tend to cater to the needs of those customers whose business is most valuable and who have the greatest choice of where to bestow it," Davidson and Rees-Mogg continue. "Like Spengler," they add, "we see the impending death of Western civilization, and with it the collapse of the world order that has predominated these past five centuries, ever since Columbus sailed west to open contact with the New World. Yet unlike Spengler we see the birth of a new stage in Western civilization in the coming millennium."
Not only will democracy and equality go out the window, in other words, they should go out the window the quicker the better so that a new utopia can settle in.