This collection of Cohen’s reportage, spanning May 2003 to October 2008, focuses on misdirected blame and anger. His wrath is directed at the ‘leftish’ commentators and politicians whose crisis of ideological confidence has led to a peculiar moral paralysis, the main symptom of which is to blame the West in general and American foreign policy in particular for all the world’s ills. He registers his fury at the propensity of his former allies on the left to indulge in the kind of victim-blaming the treats those blown up in London and Madrid as mere collateral damage sustained in the fight against western imperialism; understandably appalled by the “reckless brutality” of the Bush administration these liberals take the side of its opponents, yet in so doing end up “excusing or endorsing the far right” in the form of Baathist insurgents and Hamas. That they cannot scrape together the moral substance to condemn the killing of innocent civilians is shaming, and the old platitude about terrorists and freedom-fighters is a nonsense in these circumstances. Cohen singles out for particular contempt the Respect party’s attempt to forge a coalition under the anti-war banner that included a number of ultra-conservative religious groups: “the party’s paper tried to reconcile anti-capitalism with religious fanaticism by calling on the comrades to protest against Spearmint Rhino lap-dancing clubs.”
But Cohen is sensitive to the predicament of intellectuals that gives rise to such bizarre contortions, even as he condemns their cowardice. (Although his patience meets its match in the form of Ted Honderich, whose determination to distribute the blame for terrorism at the feet of everyone except terrorists is more than Cohen can stomach). This is symptomatic of what Cohen regards as the vacuity of the left. He argues that “today’s left cannot tell its friends from its enemies because it has no programme for a better world”. Faced with the collapse of communism, and the apparent refutation by Russia and China of the assumption that only liberal democracies can succeed in the global market, a relativism has set in that sees democracy not as Cohen does, as a necessary condition for a flourishing civilisation, but as a western affectation. While “pseudo-leftists” continue to argue against democratic deficits and the infringement of civil liberties at home, “their principles flip as soon as they leave Heathrow.”
Cohen is no ideologue, and this collection offers no map for the future; indeed he rarely comments on the specifics of policy. And there are inconsistencies. For example, he objects, rightly, to the spurious use of labels like ‘neocon’, ‘imperialist’ to discredit the perceived political apostasy involved in supporting intervention against repressive regimes. However when Cohen wonders why Oxfam, rather than campaigning against the rampant corruption and illegitimate governance responsible for so much starvation in the developing world, lobbied wealthy governments for debt cancellation instead, he suggests that it is a reflection of an “almost colonialist” worldview. This is consistent with his identification of a tendency by the left to misplace blame, yet it has a whiff of the propaganda slur about it, especially since the section begins with an epigraph from Kipling’s ‘The White Man’s Burden’. What’s more I think he underestimates the intelligence of Oxfam’s supporters; it may be true that the “blood-drenched dictators” and “kleptomaniac families” responsible for much of Africa’s suffering were not mentioned at Live 8, but that is not to say that those who attended or watched at home were not aware that they existed. I don’t think anyone seriously believed debt cancellation was a panacea that would transform Africa into a land of plenty. It was instead a necessary breakthrough. Cohen seems concerned about the simplistic, fragmented tendencies of the new single-issue, lobby-dominated politics; however he may misjudge young people’s ability to negotiate with plurality (after all, we’ve never known the ideological certainties that once sustained the 1968ers).
The main problem with Cohen is that he focuses on the reprehensible silences surrounding touchy subjects, but skirts around the difficulties of tackling those subjects head on. He rails against the lack of interest in the starving of Zimbabwe and Darfur, a lack of interest from governments as well as from the commentariat and the public at large, yet offers no suggestion as to how interest could be made into action. This is reportage, not policy-making – let’s be fair – but to lambast the developed world for its callousness without giving any thought to the potential catastrophe that could be invoked by military intervention (given his criticism of “the aid movement” it’s hard to see how he could approve of any other kind) in a country already on its knees is a half-formed argument. It’s not clear from the evidence here that Cohen has any clearer idea about how to handle the religious dictatorship of Iran than anyone else; it is admirable to demand that liberals commit themselves with more ardour to the principle that “any democracy is better than a dictatorship”, but without any suggestion about how that maxim may be put into practice it is really just a demand for vocal unanimity. That is clearly not what Cohen wants, but it seems to be what his argument amounts to. His consistent support for the war in Iraq is well documented, but that cannot (financially, ethically or strategically) be the model for foreign policy across the world. The defense that Cohen is a commentator not a policy-maker is belied when it is the left’s lack of practical strategy that is the target of his fury.
Although Cohen proclaims himself an optimist, there is little cheer here. The Britain that emerges through his reports is rent with increasingly insurmountable class barriers and governed by and for the super-rich elite (his pieces on class are superb); it is a country in which the poor are denigrated and immigrants ruthlessly exploited while the “mind-boggling bungling” of chief executives is handsomely rewarded; a country held in thrall by maniacal, nuclear-capable regimes that its intellectuals could not find the guts to condemn; a country in which the high arts are incapable of providing critical reflection, choosing instead to revel in the trends and consensus of the moment (Mark Wallinger, Damien Hirst), while popular culture merely degrades and infantilises its viewers and participants (Little Britain, Shameless). And then there’s David Cameron, whose metamorphosis from archetypal Tory-boy throwback to polished PM-in-waiting is recorded in all its astonishing detail in this collection. Nick Cohen’s writing may not point the way to the future, but it at least strives to see the present accurately, to identify the real enemy. He does not always succeed, and some of his strength as a commentator comes from his ability to change his mind and own up to the fact (see his 2002 piece on Anti-Americanism), but this remains a vital collection of reporting, a courageous and thoughtful work.
Alphabet Rain 