The final nail of the political class’ coffin split and fell – they were not
even going to get an honourable burial. The lid had slid!
It was to be the ritual recovery of the shattered ideology that lay in the ruins
of Abu Ghraib, the Patriots’ Act and Guantanamo. Democracy was to rise
phoenix-like from the ashes. It had been brilliantly staged and mounted at a
cost of millions. The ‘restoration’ of democracy was designed to assure the
rescue of corporation capitalism. To distract from a world of disappearing
billions and a contract to enslave the masses to the task of paying back the
impossible debt – the ultimate figure of democracy, the American Dream and
racial tolerance, had been found. The mantra of his name had finally obliterated
the former mantra of the political class – Weapons of Mass Destruction. That one
had got us into Iraq, this one would get us into Afghanistan.
It was, of course, the ultimate swindle.
Let us cast a cold eye on the racaille.
Sarkozy, the Hungarian dwarf President of France, called France’s Muslim
citizens “racaille”. Scum. That name recoils on the political class and its
leadership. As the Americans say, “Back at ya!” The political class are the scum
of the earth.
The ‘change’ of Administration in the USA trumpeted a new regime. After all, had
the country not voted for a Black Man, an Afro-American? Indeed, had he not
risen up from Nigger to Black to Afro-American? Was this not the Promised Land,
the Dream, the Rhetoric made flesh?
It must be understood. The tragedy of America is not the oppression of its
former-slave Blacks. The scandal of America is that it has refused to accept
that the future, and present already, is brown.
Apartheid South Africa and now ANC South Africa wanted a one race nation. Israel
wants a one race nation.
The USA wants a one race nation, but a nice one with the all-enslaving doctrine
of Tolerance.
“We tolerate the Blacks. Look, we’ve voted for a Black President.”
“We tolerate the Muslims. Look, we are closing Guantanamo.”
Faulkner knew the sickness of America.
America has never had the courage to read him, even after his receiving world
recognition. Why? Because Faulkner’s view of America was that it could never
succeed as a social project, based as it was on two enslaved and slaughtered
nations – the Black Slaves and the indigenous American tribes, the former
plunged into an inescapable poverty, and the latter decimated by genocide, and
locked-up in human zoos called Reservations.
Deeper even than that, Faulkner saw that the preservation of the racial
distinction guaranteed their continued separation. From Nigger to Black to
Afro-American was that notorious ‘change’ that kept everything the same.
It has been the refusal to acknowledge the ‘brown’ result of miscegenation that
is at the heart of racism. It is also the socially oppressive doctrine that
fails to recognise that the ‘coloured’ person is genetic good news, indeed
genetic rescue for the disappearing whites and blacks. It leaves the
unlegislated stigma of ‘inter-marriage’ as powerful as the earlier social
separations. The ‘coloured’ man in South Africa is told that race distinction is
abolished and he is now black. Denied access to ‘affirmative action’ and black
empowerment, with his passport and identity card number still classifying him as
in Apartheid, he simply is denied university scholarship and listing on the
entry quota.
In Faulkner’s great symphonic study of this issue, ‘Absalom, Absalom!’ Charles
Bon, the coloured protagonist of the book confronts Henry Sutpen, the Southern
white: “So it’s miscegenation, not the incest, which you cant bear... Henry
doesn’t answer.”
As the knotted intrigue of the novel’s survey of the 19th century
South ends in bloody conflict – the character of that conflict finally reveals
itself. The blacks against the whites is not what is happening.
The outrage is the child of that union, bitterly named miscegenation, the word
implying the sin of which both black and white seem irretrievably ashamed.
Bon pulls a pistol out and points it at Henry.
“Henry looks at the pistol; now he is not only panting, he is trembling; when he
speaks now his voice is not even the exhalation, it is the suffused and
suffocating inbreath itself:
—You are my brother.
No I’m not. I’m the nigger that’s going to sleep with your sister. Unless you
stop me, Henry.
Suddenly Henry grasps the pistol, jerks it free of Bon’s hand and stands so, the
pistol in his hand, panting and panting; again Bon can see the whites of his
inrolled eyes while he sits on the log and watches Henry with that faint
expression about the eyes and mouth which might be smiling.
—Do it now, Henry, he says.
Henry whirls; in the same motion he hurls the pistol from him and stoops again,
gripping Bon by both shoulders, panting.
—You shall not! he says. —You shall not! Do you hear me?
Bon does not move beneath the gripping hands; he sits motionless, with his faint
fixed grimace; his voice is gentler than that first breath in which the pine
branches begin to move a little:
—You will have to stop me, Henry.”
And so Henry Sutpen shoots Bon.
The tangled epic unravels the tragedy of the South. White had killed white in
the Civil War – but in the South white and black united, guilty, condemned, and
ashamed, to make little brown babies.
In the final tremendous passage of the book Faulkner announces the secret
destiny of America, and one which in itself demands the collapse of the racist
state, the USA.
“‘So it took Charles Bon and his mother to get rid of old Tom, and Charles Bon
and the octoroon to get rid of Judith, and Charles Bon and Clytie to get rid of
Henry; and Charles Bon’s mother and Charles Bon’s grandmother got rid of Charles
Bon. So it takes two niggers to get rid of one Sutpen, don’t it?’ Quentin did
not answer; evidently Shreve did not want an answer now; he continued almost
without a pause:
‘Which is all right, it’s fine; it clears the whole ledger, you can tear all the
pages out and burn them, except for one thing. And do you know what that is?’
Perhaps he hoped for an answer this time, or perhaps he merely paused for
emphasis, since he got no answer: ‘You’ve got one nigger left. One nigger Sutpen
left. Of course you cant catch him and you dont even always see him and you
never will be able to use him. But you’ve got him there still. You still hear
him at night sometimes. Dont you?’
‘Yes,’ Quentin said.
‘And so do you know what I think?’ Now he did expect answer, and now he got one:
‘No,’ Quentin said.
‘Do you want to know what I think?’
‘No,’ Quentin said.
‘Then I’ll tell you. I think that in time the Jim Bonds are going to conquer the
western hemisphere. Of course it wont quite be in our time and of course as they
spread toward the poles they will bleach out again like the rabbits and the
birds do, so they wont show up so sharp against the snow. But it will still be
Jim Bond; and so in a few thousand years, I who regard you will also have sprung
from the loins of African kings. Now I want you to tell me just one thing more.
Why do you hate the South?’
‘I dont hate it,’ Quentin said, quickly, at once, immediately; ‘I
dont hate it,’ he said. I dont hate it he thought, panting in the cold
air, the iron New England dark: I dont. I dont! I dont
hate it! I dont hate it!”
Now against the genetic and social crisis in which the whole capitalist system
has collapsed there is put forward as a solution – not only for America but for
the financial world system – not a political party, not the political system but
one man. This fact in itself finishes forever the idea that a structured
political system of elected personnel can be the solution.
For those who read omens – and they do happen – the beginning could not have
been more ominous.
Firstly:
The Oath of the Presidency. It did not happen. The Chief Justice, by Allah,
found he could not say it correctly. The President corrected him. The Judge
re-said it. Obama giggled. It all had to be re-run in a back room since it had
not, legally speaking, happened.
Secondly:
At the President’s Inaugural Lunch the two doyens of the Republican and
Democratic Parties both collapsed on the floor, the Democrat in convulsions.
They had to be stretchered out.
Thirdly:
The first official policy statement revealed the ugly truth – in Washington,
with America’s wealth vanishing by the billion, its foreign policy was to
continue the fantasy of power and missionary humanism.
A
man who can declare that the death of both Palestinians and jews distresses him
equally is devoid of moral compass. The ‘rights’ of the Israelis and to us, the
terrible wrongs of both Palestinian peoples is not the issue.
The moral issue is that a ratio of one to a hundred, and that imbalance being an
addition of women and children – is unacceptable, is criminal and anarchic.
Israel has torn up the UNO Charter and proved it without authority. No one spoke
of suspending or expelling Israel from the UNO. That cannot be ignored.
If the USA is to return to its moral values in relation to torture – what about
Israel adopting some in relation to Gaza? Iraq is over – the withdrawal was in
fact designed by Bush. Transfer of troops to Afghanistan is a disastrous policy.
Not only in the licence to slaughter thousands of Afghans – but in the political
reality that this operation is controlled by an organisation that is itself the
abrogation of morality. Its record is Srebrenica. Its legal status is that it is
above the law – it cannot be brought before any national court and charged with
war crimes. Its concentration camps in Afghanistan remain. The bombing of
sovereign Pakistan continues.
Fourthly:
The financial policy in terms of endebtment of the masses not only endorses the
Bush scheme but increases it by tens of billions.
Fifthly:
His message to us, the Muslim ‘Umma, is an outright insult. We are not Ismaili
(Qaeda) terrorists. We are not Shi‘a – that post-Islamic religion. We are the
people of justice, warning against evil and urging good action. Mr Obama, your
father was a Muslim. You have denied his fundamental being. Your mother was
white. In taking on the mantle of Black you are merely confirming what you see
as the shame of your birth.
Since you dare not read the Qur’an – at least read your Faulkner.
Edmund Burke said: “People will not look forward to posterity who never look
backward to their ancestors.”
Obama is a cypher, a deception, a misnomer.
He is a third class mass political product. He is boring.
He is unspontaneous. His repeated gesture is that of a man taking a pinch of
salt – perhaps he is admitting something to us.
What is the future for America? Well, if the country’s Islamic leadership does
not confront the true nature of the Deen – Imam Malik’s Al-Muwatta is one half
‘Ibada and one half commercial transactions – then its road can only get worse.
Mississippi Goddam – that will be the national diagnosis.
What could rescue America while its Muslims hide under the ruins of the dollar
system, i.e. Islam without Zakat? If power and governance was taken – not
elected – during the bankruptcy phase – by one man and that one man was a Navaho
Chief – now THAT would be change. Yes, they can!