A continuation of reactionary politics - Review of Disaster Nationalism

In recognition of an important contribution to the analysis of emerging far-right forces internationally, Rupture is seeking reviews and articles engaging with Richard Seymour’s recent book Disaster Nationalism: The Downfall of Liberal Civilization. Seymour explores the troubling rise of ‘disaster nationalism’ in global politics, examining its origins, key figures, and the danger it presents. Through careful analysis the book offers a stark warning: the fight against disaster nationalism is a battle for the future of humanity. As a start to this discussion, we are happy to run a review from socialist writer Pádraig Mac Oscair. 

Disaster Nationalism: The Downfall of Liberal Civilisation (Richard Seymour, Verso Books, 2024)

A recurring point in Irish political writing for several years in the opening years of the 21st century, particularly from the ‘centre’ and academia, was the seeming immunity of Ireland from the mass racist parties and movements which were coming to prominence across Western Europe. This was often smugly described as being due to Ireland’s experience as a nation of emigrants or the egalitarian nature of our republican tradition, particularly the presence of Sinn Féin as a non-racist “nationalist” option. Whilst Irish politics was never actually spared the taint of racism, this myth has been thoroughly punctured since 2020. The leadership and organisational strategies of the anti-lockdown movement which emerged in response to the Covid-19 pandemic were adapted seamlessly into anti-migrant demonstrations such as those proclaiming “Ireland is Full” and the Dublin riots of November 2023. Far-right candidates may have failed to secure any Dáil seats in the recent General Election, but nevertheless did take a handful of council seats in the 2024 local election and ran on a far greater scale than ever before.

These are a local example of the emergence of what Richard Seymour calls “Disaster Nationalism”, a strain of far-right politics exemplified by the likes of Trump, Modi, Netanyahu, Bolsonaro, and Le Pen. The advocates of disaster nationalism, whilst not cleanly fascist as Mussolini would have understood the term, are nevertheless fixated with fantasies of catastrophe and conspiracy alongside mass scapegoating of minorities and moral panics. Unsurprisingly, much of their ire is directed at the gains in racial and gender justice that have been won at great difficulty in recent decades and its impact on the privileged status of white men.

These movements have become prominent in recent years. In the absence of viable mainstream alternatives to neoliberalism within by offering alienated voters the possibility of a future in which, to quote Seymour: “Your life may not get any better, but your neighbour’s can get worse”. The emergence of social media has allowed the proponents of disaster nationalism to disseminate disinformation on a scale unimaginable to previous far-right activists. Disinformation can be adapted to fit local contexts and reach a highly specific audience via social media, with manufactured stories about people nearby dying after taking vaccines, or entire classes of girls in local schools identifying as cats being allowed to take on a life of their own in the wider community. This element may go some way to explain why this has taken root in Ireland, unlike its predecessors.

Seymour identifies this as a very contemporary carnival of reaction, albeit one with clear historical parallels to fascism and the psychological conditions that made it possible (drawn out over the course of numerous lengthy digressions about Guattari, Freud and others). It was not only made possible, and accelerated by social media, but has its roots in a very particular ethic of competition and resentment exacerbated by ever-increasing precarity and burnout in a workforce, housing market, and romantic landscape that have been decimated by neoliberalism. In the absence of a vision of a better world under socialism (or a worse world under fascism) which previous generations could aspire to, disaster nationalism instead offers a project based on violent catharsis in which the (largely imagined) enemies of society are punished endlessly. This culminates in a dystopia not unlike the present state of Israel, which Seymour analyses at length as an example of a political order where the ruling classes rely on the public’s hatred of the other to compensate for a declining standard of living and uncertain future.

Whilst Seymour does make important connections between these disparate movements, and articulates how this is very much a problem of the present moment, what’s missing is a sufficient sense of how the emergence of “disaster nationalism” fits into a broader trend towards the mainstreaming of far-right politics that’s been taking place for decades. Netanyahu, Trump, and Modi arguably represent more of a continuation than a breach from what reactionary politics have looked like in their respective countries since the 1980s when examined in context. Mainstream conservative parties have been incorporating and normalising far-right positions for decades now - no less an authority than Marine Le Pen described Sarkozy’s 2007 French presidential election win on an anti-migrant platform as vindication for their movement. The Front National (now known as the Rassamblement National) have since become the biggest party of opposition in the French parliament, proving this position was unfortunately correct.

While this is a deft analysis which does set out how this is a very contemporary phenomenon made possible by the internet and a wider context of social alienation in the aftermath of the 2008 crash, Seymour is overdependent on theory and psychoanalysis in his account of how this reactionary turn came about. The book feels overly fatalist in places as a result, as Seymour overemphasises the importance of the tendencies towards resentment and catastrophism identified by psychoanalysis and downplays the wider political context for the emergence of disaster nationalism. Whilst certain human characteristics which make us innately susceptible to conspiracism and scapegoating might explain the behaviour of the most devout followers of Trump or Modi, it hardly accounts for all of their success amongst the general electorate in the US or India. A cursory look at their contrasting recent electoral fortunes would show Trump’s share of the vote rose and Modi’s declined largely due to economic anxiety amongst voters living through a major cost of living crisis. In turn, it’s hard to imagine Bolsanaro coming to power without the Petrobras scandal sparking mass protests over corruption and the cost of living in Brazil. Would the cries of “Ireland is Full” have fallen on deaf ears had the decade prior not seen the decimation of public services and the worst housing crisis in a century?

Disaster Nationalism provides a useful account of contemporary far-right politics, but an incomplete one which doesn’t always discuss the material and political context in which Trump or Modi have come to power in sufficient detail. All of the movements studied have their forebears and fit within a given tradition of reactionary politics and racism in their particular countries. For instance, Trump arguably represents a version of the racial dog-whistle politics which emerged in both parties following the 1964 Civil Rights Act updated for an age of anxieties over immigration rather than desegregation. The fact that his share of the vote amongst white Americans in the last US Presidential election matched that of Nixon and Reagan in their landslide wins in 1972 and 1984 respectively indicates a comparable racial element to his popularity. The duty of the left to communicate a vision for something better, and to stand up for the vulnerable in society, remains the same as it was before the internet melted our brains and made this contemporary iteration of an old problem possible.

Pádraig Mac Oscair is an Irish activist and socialist writer involved with CATU