Yet it is generally admitted
that antisemitism is on the increase, that it has been greatly exacerbated by the war, and
that humane and enlightened people are not immune to it.
that antisemitism is on the increase, that it has been greatly exacerbated by the war, and
that humane and enlightened people are not immune to it.
Orwell
Four
hundred pounds worth of jewellery seems to him an excellent haul. And though the
stories are convincing in their physical detail, they contain very little sensationalism —
very few corpses, hardly any blood, no sex crimes, no sadism, no perversions of any kind.
It seems to be the case that the crime story, at any rate on its higher levels, has greatly
increased in blood-thirstiness during the past twenty years. Some of the early detective
stories do not even contain a murder. The Sherlock Holmes stories, for instance, are not
all murders, and some of them do not even deal with an indictable crime. So also with the
John Thorndyke stories, while of the Max Carrados stories only a minority are murders.
Since 1918, however, a detective story not containing a murder has been a great rarity,
and the most disgusting details of dismemberment and exhumation are commonly
exploited. Some of the Peter Wimsey stories, for instance, display an extremely morbid
interest in corpses. The Raffles stories, written from the angle of the criminal, are much
less anti-social than many modern stories written from the angle of the detective. The
main impression that they leave behind is of boyishness. They belong to a time when
people had standards, though they happened to be foolish standards. Their key-phrase is
‘not done’. The line that they draw between good and evil is as senseless as a Polynesian
taboo, but at least, like the taboo, it has the advantage that everyone accepts it.
So much for RAFFLES. Now for a header into the cesspool. NO ORCHIDS FOR MISS
BLANDISH, by James Hadley Chase, was published in 1939, but seems to have enjoyed
its greatest popularity in 1940, during the Battle of Britain and the blitz. In its main
outlines its story is this:
Miss Blandish, the daughter of a millionaire, is kidnapped by some gangsters who are
almost immediately surprised and killed off by a larger and better organized gang. They
hold her to ransom and extract half a million dollars from her father. Their original plan
had been to kill her as soon as the ransom-money was received, but a chance keeps her
alive. One of the gang is a young man named Slim, whose sole pleasure in life consists in
driving knives into other people’s bellies. In childhood he has graduated by cutting up
living animals with a pair of rusty scissors. Slim is sexually impotent, but takes a kind of
fancy to Miss Blandish. Slim’s mother, who is the real brains of the gang, sees in this the
chance of curing Slim’s impotence, and decides to keep Miss Blandish in custody till
Slim shall have succeeded in raping her. After many efforts and much persuasion,
including the flogging of Miss Blandish with a length of rubber hosepipe, the rape is
achieved. Meanwhile Miss Blandish’ s father has hired a private detective, and by means
of bribery and torture the detective and the police manage to round up and exterminate
the whole gang. Slim escapes with Miss Blandish and is killed after a final rape, and the
detective prepares to restore Miss Blandish to her family. By this time, however, she has
developed such a taste for Slim’s caresses * that she feels unable to live without him, and
she jumps, out of the window of a sky-scraper.
Several other points need noticing before one can grasp the full implications of this book.
To begin with, its central story bears a very marked resemblance to William Fau lk ner’s
novel, Sanctuary. Secondly, it is not, as one might expect, the product of an illiterate
hack, but a brilliant piece of writing, with hardly a wasted word or a jarring note
anywhere. Thirdly, the whole book, recit as well as dialogue, is written in the American
language; the author, an Englishman who has (I believe) never been in the United States,
seems to have made a complete mental transference to the American underworld.
Fourthly, the book sold, according to its publishers, no less than half a million copies.
I have already outlined the plot, but the subject-matter is much more sordid and brutal
than this suggests. The book contains eight full-dress murders, an unassessable number of
casual killings and woundings, an exhumation (with a careful reminder of the stench), the
flogging of Miss Blandish, the torture of another woman with red-hot cigarette-ends, a
strip-tease act, a third-degree scene of unheard-of cruelty and much else of the same kind.
It assumes great sexual sophistication in its readers (there is a scene, for instance, in
which a gangster, presumably of masochistic tendency, has an orgasm in the moment of
being knifed), and it takes for granted the most complete corruption and self-seeking as
the norm of human behaviour. The detective, for instance, is almost as great a rogue as
the gangsters, and actuated by nearly the same motives. Like them, he is in pursuit of
‘five hundred grand’. It is necessary to the machinery of the story that Mr. Blandish
should be anxious to get his daughter back, but apart from this, such things as affection,
friendship, good nature or even ordinary politeness simply do not enter. Nor, to any great
extent does nonnal sexuality. Ultimately only one motive is at work throughout the whole
story: the pursuit of power.
* Another reading of the final episode is possible. It may mean merely that Miss Blandish is
pregnant. But the interpretation I have given above seems more in keeping with the general
brutality of the book. ( Author’s footnote, 1945)
It should be noticed that the book is not in the ordinary sense pornography. Unlike most
books that deal in sexual sadism, it lays the emphasis on the cruelty and not on the
pleasure. Slim, the ravisher of Miss Blandish, has ‘wet slobbering lips’: this is disgusting,
and it is meant to be disgusting. But the scenes describing cruelty to women are
comparatively perfunctory. The real high-spots of the book are cruelties committed by
men upon other men; above all, the third-degreeing of the gangster, Eddie Schultz, who is
lashed into a chair and flogged on the windpipe with truncheons, his arms broken by
fresh blows as he breaks loose. In another of Mr. Chase’s books, HE WON’T NEED IT
NOW, the hero, who is intended to be a sympathetic and perhaps even noble character, is
described as stamping on somebody’s face, and then, having crushed the man’s mouth in,
grinding his heel round and round in it. Even when physical incidents of this kind are not
occurring, the mental atmosphere of these books is always the same. Their whole theme
is the struggle for power and the triumph of the strong over the weak. The big gangsters
wipe out the little ones as mercilessly as a pike gobbling up the little fish in a pond; the
police kill off the criminals as cruelly as the angler kills the pike. If ultimately one sides
with the police against the gangsters, it is merely because they are better organized and
more powerful, because, in fact, the law is a bigger racket than crime. Might is right: vae
victis.
As I have mentioned already, NO ORCHIDS enjoyed its greatest vogue in 1940, though
it was successfully running as a play till some time later. It was, in fact, one of the things
that helped to console people for the boredom of being bombed. Early in the war the
NEW YORKER had a picture of a little man approaching a news-stall littered with paper
with such headlines as ‘Great Tank Battles in Northern France’, ‘Big Naval Battle in the
North Sea’, ‘Huge Air Battles over the Channel’, etc. , etc. The little man is saying
‘ACTION STORIES, please’. That little man stood for all the drugged millions to whom
the world of the gangster and the prize-ring is more ‘real’, more ‘tough’, than such things
as wars, revolutions, earthquakes, famines and pestilences. From the point of view of a
reader of ACTION STORIES, a description of the London blitz, or of the struggles of the
European underground parties, would be ‘sissy stuff. On the other hand, some puny gun-
battle in Chicago, resulting in perhaps half a dozen deaths, would seem genuinely
‘tough’. This habit of mind is now extremely widespread. A soldier sprawls in a muddy
trench, with the machine-gun bullets crackling a foot or two overhead, and whiles away
his intolerable boredom by reading an American gangster story. And what is it that makes
that story so exciting? Precisely the fact that people are shooting at each other with
machine-guns! Neither the soldier nor anyone else sees anything curious in this. It is
taken for granted that an imaginary bullet is more thrilling than a real one.
The obvious explanation is that in real life one is usually a passive victim, whereas in the
adventure story one can think of oneself as being at the centre of events. But there is
more to it than that. Here it is necessary to refer again to the curious fact of NO
ORCHIDS being written — with technical errors, perhaps, but certainly with considerable
skill — in the American language.
There exists in America an enonnous literature of more or less the same stamp as NO
ORCHIDS. Quite apart from books, there is the huge array of ‘pulp magazines’, graded
so as to cater for different kinds of fantasy, but nearly all having much the same mental
atmosphere. A few of them go in for straight pornography, but the great majority are
quite plainly aimed at sadists and masochists. Sold at threepence a copy under the title of
Yank Mags, * these things used to enjoy considerable popularity in England, but when
the supply dried up owing to the war, no satisfactory substitute was forthcoming. English
imitations of the ‘pulp magazine’ do now exist, but they are poor things compared with
the original. English crook films, again, never approach the American crook film in
brutality. And yet the career of Mr. Chase shows how deep the American influence has
already gone. Not only is he himself living a continuous fantasy-life in the Chicago
underworld, but he can count on hundreds of thousands of readers who know what is
meant by a ‘clipshop’ or the ‘hotsquat’, do not have to do mental arithmetic when
confronted by ‘fifty grand’, and understand at sight a sentence like ‘Johnny was a rummy
and only two jumps ahead of the nut-factory’. Evidently there are great numbers of
English people who are partly americanized in language and, one ought to add, in moral
outlook. For there was no popular protest against NO ORCHIDS. In the end it was
withdrawn, but only retrospectively, when a later work, MISS CALLAGHAN COMES
TO GRIEF, brought Mr. Chase’s books to the attention of the authorities. Judging by
casual conversations at the time, ordinary readers got a mild thrill out of the obscenities
of NO ORCHIDS, but saw nothing undesirable in the book as a whole. Many people,
incidentally, were under the impression that it was an American book reissued in
England.
* They are said to have been imported into this country as ballast which accounted for their
low price and crumped appearance. Since the war the ships have been ballasted with
something more useful, probably gravel. (Author’s footnote)
The thing that the ordinary reader OUGHT to have objected to — almost certainly would
have objected to, a few decades earlier — was the equivocal attitude towards crime. It is
implied throughout NO ORCHIDS that being a criminal is only reprehensible in the
sense that it does not pay. Being a policeman pays better, but there is no moral difference,
since the police use essentially criminal methods. In a book like HE WON’T NEED IT
NOW the distinction between crime and crime -prevention practically disappears. This is
a new departure for English sensational fiction, in which till recently there has always
been a sharp distinction between right and wrong and a general agreement that virtue
must triumph in the last chapter. English books glorifying crime (modern crime, that is —
pirates and highwaymen are different) are very rare. Even a book like RAFFLES, as I
have pointed out, is governed by powerful taboos, and it is clearly understood that
Raffles ’s crimes must be expiated sooner or later. In America, both in life and fiction, the
tendency to tolerate crime, even to admire the criminal so long as he is success, is very
much more marked. It is, indeed, ultimately this attitude that has made it possible for
crime to flourish upon so huge a scale. Books have been written about A1 Capone that are
hardly different in tone from the books written about Henry Ford, Stalin, Lord Northcliffe
and all the rest of the ‘log cabin to White House’ brigade. And switching back eighty
years, one finds Mark Twain adopting much the same attitude towards the disgusting
bandit Slade, hero of twenty-eight murders, and towards the Western desperadoes
generally. They were successful, they ‘made good’, therefore he admired them.
In a book like NO ORCHIDS one is not, as in the old-style crime story, simply escaping
from dull reality into an imaginary world of action. One’s escape is essentially into
cruelty and sexual perversion. No Orchids is aimed at the power-instinct, which
RAFFLES or the Sherlock Holmes stories are not. At the same time the English attitude
towards crime is not so superior to the American as I may have seemed to imply. It too is
mixed up with power-worship, and has become more noticeably so in the last twenty
years. A writer who is worth examining is Edgar Wallace, especially in such typical
books as THE ORATOR and the Mr. J. G. Reeder stories. Wallace was one of the first
crime-story writers to break away from the old tradition of the private detective and make
his central figure a Scotland Yard official. Sherlock Holmes is an amateur, solving his
problems without the help and even, in the earlier stories, against the opposition of the
police. Moreover, like Lupin, he is essentially an intellectual, even a scientist. He reasons
logically from observed fact, and his intellectuality is constantly contrasted with the
routine methods of the police. Wallace objected strongly to this slur, as he considered it,
on Scotland Yard, and in several newspaper articles he went out of his way to denounce
Holmes byname. His own ideal was the detective-inspector who catches criminals not
because he is intellectually brilliant but because he is part of an all-powerful organi —
zation. Hence the curious fact that in Wallace’s most characteristic stories the ‘clue’ and
the ‘deduction’ play no part. The criminal is always defeated by an incredible
coincidence, or because in some unexplained manner the police know all about the crime
beforehand. The tone of the stories makes it quite clear that Wallace’s admiration for the
police is pure bully-worship. A Scotland Yard detective is the most powerful kind of
being that he can imagine, while the criminal figures in his mind as an outlaw against
whom anything is permissible, like the condemned slaves in the Roman arena. His
policemen behave much more brutally than British policemen do in real life — they hit
people with out provocation, fire revolvers past their ears to terrify them and so on — and
some of the stories exhibit a fearful intellectual sadism. (For instance, Wallace likes to
arrange things so that the villain is hanged on the same day as the heroine is married. ) But
it is sadism after the English fashion: that is to say, it is unconscious, there is not overtly
any sex in it, and it keeps within the bounds of the law. The British public tolerates a
harsh criminal law and gets a kick out of monstrously unfair murder trials: but still that is
better, on any account, than tolerating or admiring crime. If one must worship a bully, it
is better that he should be a policeman than a gangster. Wallace is still governed to some
extent by the concept of ‘not done. ’ In NO ORCHIDS anything is ‘done’ so long as it
leads on to power. All the barriers are down, all the motives are out in the open. Chase is
a worse symptom than Wallace, to the extent that all-in wrestling is worse than boxing, or
Fascism is worse than capitalist democracy.
In borrowing from William Faul kn er’s SANCTUARY, Chase only took the plot; the
mental atmosphere of the two books is not similar. Chase really derives from other
sources, and this particular bit of borrowing is only symbolic. What it symbolizes is the
vulgarization of ideas which is constantly happening, and which probably happens faster
in an age of print. Chase has been described as ‘Faulkner for the masses’, but it would be
more accurate to describe him as Carlyle for the masses. He is a popular writer — there are
many such in America, but they are still rarities in England — who has caught up with
what is now fashionable to call ‘realism’, meaning the doctrine that might is right. The
growth of ‘realism’ has been the great feature of the intellectual history of our own age.
Why this should be so is a complicated question. The interconnexion between sadism,
masochism, success-worship, power-worship, nationalism, and totalitarianism is a huge
subject whose edges have barely been scratched, and even to mention it is considered
somewhat indelicate. To take merely the first example that comes to mind, I believe no
one has ever pointed out the sadistic and masochistic element in Bernard Shaw’s work,
still less suggested that this probably has some connexion with Shaw’s admiration for
dictators. Fascism is often loosely equated with sadism, but nearly always by people who
see nothing wrong in the most slavish worship of Stalin. The truth is, of course, that the
countless English intellectuals who kiss the arse of Stalin are not different from the
minority who give their allegiance to Hitler or Mussolini, nor from the efficiency experts
who preached ‘punch’, ‘drive’, ‘personality’ and ‘learn to be a Tiger man’ in the
nineteen-twenties, nor from that older generation of intellectuals, Carlyle, Creasey and
the rest of them, who bowed down before Gennan militarism. All of them are
worshipping power and successful cruelty. It is important to notice that the cult of power
tends to be mixed up with a love of cruelty and wickedness FOR THEIR OWN SAKES.
A tyrant is all the more admired if he happens to be a bloodstained crook as well, and ‘the
end justifies the means’ often becomes, in effect, ‘the means justify themselves provided
they are dirty enough’. This idea colours the outlook of all sympathizers with
totalitarianism, and accounts, for instance, for the positive delight with which many
English intellectuals greeted the Nazi-Soviet pact. It was a step only doubtfully useful to
the U. S. S. R. , but it was entirely unmoral, and for that reason to be admired; the
explanations of it, which were numerous and self-contradictory, could come afterwards.
Until recently the characteristic adventure stories of the English-speaking peoples have
been stories in which the hero fights AGAINST ODDS. This is true all the way from
Robin Hood to Pop-eye the Sailor. Perhaps the basic myth of the Western world is Jack
the Giant-killer, but to be brought up to date this should be renamed Jack the Dwarf-
killer, and there already exists a considerable literature which teaches, either overtly or
implicitly, that one should side with the big man against the little man. Most of what is
now written about foreign policy is simply an embroidery on this theme, and for several
decades such phrases as ‘Play the game’, ‘Don’t hit a man when he’s down’ and ‘It’s not
cricket’ have never failed to draw a snigger from anyone of intellectual pretensions. What
is comparatively new is to find the accepted pattern, according to which (a) right is right
and wrong is wrong, whoever wins, and (b) weakness must be respected, disappearing
from popular literature as well. When I first read D. H. Lawrence’s novels, at the age of
about twenty, I was puzzled by the fact that there did not seem to be any classification of
the characters into ‘good’ and ‘bad’. Lawrence seemed to sympathize with all of them
about equally, and this was so unusual as to give me the feeling of having lost my
bearings. Today no one would think of looking for heroes and villains in a serious novel,
but in lowbrow fiction one still expects to find a sharp distinction between right and
wrong and between legality and illegality. The common people, on the whole, are still
living in the world of absolute good and evil from which the intellectuals have long since
escaped. But the popularity of NO ORCHIDS and the American books and magazines to
which it is akin shows how rapidly the doctrine of ‘realism’ is gaining ground.
Several people, after reading NO ORCHIDS, have remarked to me, ‘It’s pure Fascism’.
This is a correct description, although the book has not the smallest connexion with
politics and very little with social or economic problems. It has merely the same relation
to Fascism as, say Trollope’s novels have to nineteenth-century capitalism. It is a
daydream appropriate to a totalitarian age. In his imagined world of gangsters Chase is
presenting, as it were, a distilled version of the modem political scene, in which such
things as mass bombing of civilians, the use of hostages, torture to obtain confessions,
secret prisons, execution without trial, floggings with rubber truncheons, drownings in
cesspools, systematic falsification of records and statistics, treachery, bribery, and
quislingism are normal and morally neutral, even admirable when they are done in a large
and bold way. The average man is not directly interested in politics, and when he reads,
he wants the current struggles of the world to be translated into a simple story about
individuals. He can take an interest in Slim and Fenner as he could not in the G. P. U. and
the Gestapo. People worship power in the form in which they are able to understand it. A
twelve-year-old boy worships Jack Dempsey. An adolescent in a Glasgow slum worships
A1 Capone. An aspiring pupil at a business college worships Lord Nuffield. A NEW
STATESMAN reader worships Stalin. There is a difference in intellectual maturity, but
none in moral outlook. Thirty years ago the heroes of popular fiction had nothing in
common with Mr. Chase’s gangsters and detectives, and the idols of the English liberal
intelligentsia were also comparatively sympathetic figures. Between Holmes and Fenner
on the one hand, and between Abraham Lincoln and Stalin on the other, there is a similar
gulf.
One ought not to infer too much from the success of Mr. Chase’s books. It is possible that
it is an isolated phenomenon, brought about by the mingled boredom and brutality of war.
But if such books should definitely acclimatize themselves in England, instead of being
merely a half-understood import from America, there would be good grounds for dismay.
In choosing RAFFLES as a background for NO ORCHIDS I deliberately chose a book
which by the standards of its time was morally equivocal. Raffles, as I have pointed out,
has no real moral code, no religion, certainly no social consciousness. All he has is a set
of reflexes the nervous system, as it were, of a gentleman. Give him a sharp tap on this
reflex or that (they are called ‘sport’, ‘pal’, ‘woman’, ‘king and country’ and so forth),
and you get a predictable reaction. In Mr. Chase’s books there are no gentlemen and no
taboos. Emancipation is complete. Freud and Machiavelli have reached the outer suburbs.
Comparing the schoolboy atmosphere of the one book with the cruelty and corruption of
the other, one is driven to feel that snobbishness, like hypocrisy, is a check upon
behaviour whose value from a social point of view has been underrated.
ANTISEMITISM IN BRITAIN (1945)
There are about 400,000 known Jews in Britain, and in addition some thousands or, at
most, scores of thousands of Jewish refugees who have entered the country from 1934
onwards. The Jewish population is almost entirely concentrated in half a dozen big towns
and is mostly employed in the food, clothing and furniture trades. A few of the big
monopolies, such as the ICI, one or two leading newspapers and at least one big chain of
department stores are Jewish-owned or partly Jewish-owned, but it would be very far
from the truth to say that British business life is dominated by Jews. The Jews seem, on
the contrary, to have failed to keep up with the modern tendency towards big
amalgamations and to have remained fixed in those trades which are necessarily carried
out on a small scale and by old-fashioned methods.
I start off with these background facts, which are already known to any well-informed
person, in order to emphasise that there is no real Jewish “problem” in England. The Jews
are not numerous or powerful enough, and it is only in what are loosely called
“intellectual circles” that they have any noticeable influence.
Yet it is generally admitted
that antisemitism is on the increase, that it has been greatly exacerbated by the war, and
that humane and enlightened people are not immune to it. It does not take violent forms
(English people are almost invariably gentle and law-abiding), but it is ill-natured
enough, and in favourable circumstances it could have political results. Here are some
samples of antisemitic remarks that have been made to me during the past year or two:
Middle-aged office employee: “I generally come to work by bus. It takes longer, but I
don’t care about using the Underground from Golders Green nowadays. There’s too
many of the Chosen Race travelling on that line. ”
Tobacconist (woman): “No, I’ve got no matches for you. I should try the lady down the
street. SHE’S always got matches. One of the Chosen Race, you see. ”
Young intellectual, Communist or near-Communist: “No, I do NOT like Jews. I’ve never
made any secret of that. I can’t stick them. Mind you, I’m not antisemitic, of course. ”
Middle-class woman: “Well, no one could call me antisemitic, but I do think the way
these Jews behave is too absolutely stinking. The way they push their way to the head of
queues, and so on. They’re so abominably selfish. I think they’re responsible for a lot of
what happens to them. ”
Milk roundsman: “A Jew don’t do no work, not the same as what an Englishman does.
‘E’s too clever. We work with this ‘ere” (flexes his biceps). “They work with that there”
(taps his forehead).
Chartered accountant, intelligent, left-wing in an undirected way: “These bloody Yids are
all pro-German. They’d change sides tomorrow if the Nazis got here. I see a lot of them
in my business. They admire Hitler at the bottom of their hearts. They’ll always suck up
to anyone who kicks them. ”
Intelligent woman, on being offered a book dealing with antisemitism and Gennan
atrocities: “Don’t show it me, PLEASE don’t show it to me. It’ll only make me hate the
Jews more than ever. ”
I could fill pages with similar remarks, but these will do to go on with. Two facts emerge
from them. One — which is very important and which I must return to in a moment — is
that above a certain intellectual level people are ashamed of being antisemitic and are
careful to draw a distinction between “antisemitism” and “disliking Jews”. The other is
that antisemitism is an irrational thing. The Jews are accused of specific offences (for
instance, bad behaviour in food queues) which the person speaking feels strongly about,
but it is obvious that these accusations merely rationalise some deep-rooted prejudice. To
attempt to counter them with facts and statistics is useless, and may sometimes be worse
than useless. As the last of the above-quoted remarks shows, people can remain
antisemitic, or at least anti-Jewish, while being fully aware that their outlook is
indefensible. If you dislike somebody, you dislike him and there is an end of it: your
feelings are not made any better by a recital of his virtues.
It so happens that the war has encouraged the growth of antisemitism and even, in the
eyes of many ordinary people, given some justification for it. To begin with, the Jews are
one people of whom it can be said with complete certainty that they will benefit by an
Allied victory. Consequently the theory that “this is a Jewish war” has a certain
plausibility, all the more so because the Jewish war effort seldom gets its fair share of
recognition. The British Empire is a huge heterogeneous organisation held together
largely by mutual consent, and it is often necessary to flatter the less reliable elements at
the expense of the more loyal ones. To publicise the exploits of Jewish soldiers, or even
to admit the existence of a considerable Jewish army in the Middle East, rouses hostility
in South Africa, the Arab coun tries and elsewhere: it is easier to ignore the whole subject
and allow the man in the street to go on thinking that Jews are exceptionally clever at
dodging military service. Then again, Jews are to be found in exactly those trades which
are bound to incur unpopularity with the civilian public in war-time. Jews are mostly
concerned with selling food, clothes, furniture and tobacco — exactly the commodities of
which there is a chronic shortage, with consequent overcharging, black-marketing and
favouritism. And again, the common charge that Jews behave in an exceptionally
cowardly way during air raids was given a certain amount of colour by the big raids of
1940. As it happened, the Jewish quarter of Whitechapel was one of the first areas to be
heavily blitzed, with the natural result that swarms of Jewish refugees distributed
themselves all over London. If one judged merely from these war-time phenomena, it
would be easy to imagine that antisemitism is a quasi-rational thing, founded on mistaken
premises. And naturally the antisemite thinks of himself as a reasonable being. Whenever
I have touched on this subject in a newspaper article, I have always had a considerable
“come-back”, and invariably some of the letters are from well-balanced, middling
people — doctors, for example — with no apparent economic grievance. These people
always say (as Hitler says in MEIN KAMPF) that they started out with no anti-Jewish
prejudice but were driven into their present position by mere observation of the facts. Yet
one of the marks of antisemitism is an ability to believe stories that could not possibly be
true. One could see a good example of this in the strange accident that occurred in
London in 1942, when a crowd, frightened by a bomb-burst nearby, fled into the mouth
of an Underground station, with the result that something over a hundred people were
crushed to death. The very same day it was repeated all over London that “the Jews were
responsible”. Clearly, if people will believe this kind of thing, one will not get much
further by arguing with them. The only useful approach is to discover WHY they can
swallow absurdities on one particular subject while remaining sane on others.
But now let me come back to that point I mentioned earlier — that there is widespread
awareness of the prevalence of antisemitic feeling, and unwillingness to admit sharing it.
Among educated people, antisemitism is held to be an unforgivable sin and in a quite
different category from other kinds of racial prejudice. People will go to remarkable
lengths to demonstrate that they are NOT antisemitic. Thus, in 1943 an intercession
service on behalf of the Polish Jews was held in a synagogue in St John’s Wood. The
local authorities declared themselves anxious to participate in it, and the service was
attended by the mayor of the borough in his robes and chain, by representatives of all the
churches, and by detachments of RAF, Home Guards, nurses, Boy Scouts and what not.
On the surface it was a touching demonstration of solidarity with the suffering Jews. But
it was essentially a CONSCIOUS effort to behave decently by people whose subjective
feelings must in many cases have been very different. That quarter of London is partly
Jewish, antisemitism is rife there, and, as I well knew, some of the men sitting round me
in the synagogue were tinged by it. Indeed, the commander of my own platoon of Home
Guards, who had been especially keen beforehand that we should “make a good show” at
the intercession service, was an ex-member of Mosley’s Blackshirts. While this division
of feeling exists, tolerance of mass violence against Jews, or, what is more important,
antisemitic legislation, are not possible in England. It is not at present possible, indeed,
that antisemitism should BECOME RESPECTABLE. But this is less of an advantage
than it might appear.
One effect of the persecutions in Gennany has been to prevent antisemitism from being
seriously studied. In England a brief inadequate survey was made by Mass Observation a
year or two ago, but if there has been any other investigation of the subject, then its
findings have been kept strictly secret. At the same time there has been conscious
suppression, by all thoughtful people, of anything likely to wound Jewish susceptibilities.
After 1934 the Jew joke disappeared as though by magic from postcards, periodicals and
the music-hall stage, and to put an unsympathetic Jewish character into a novel or short
story came to be regarded as antisemitism. On the Palestine issue, too, it was DE
RIGUEUR among enlightened people to accept the Jewish case as proved and avoid
examining the claims of the Arabs — a decision which might be correct on its own merits,
but which was adopted primarily because the Jews were in trouble and it was felt that one
must not criticise them. Thanks to Hitler, therefore, you had a situation in which the press
was in effect censored in favour of the Jews while in private antisemitism was on the up-
grade, even, to some extent, among sensitive and intelligent people. This was particularly
noticeable in 1940 at the time of the internment of the refugees. Naturally, every thinking
person felt that it was his duty to protest against the wholesale locking-up of unfortunate
foreigners who for the most part were only in England because they were opponents of
Hitler. Privately, however, one heard very different sentiments expressed. A minority of
the refugees behaved in an exceedingly tactless way, and the feeling against them
necessarily had an antisemitic undercurrent, since they were largely Jews. A very eminent
figure in the Labour Party — I won’t name him, but he is one of the most respected people
in England — said to me quite violently: “We never asked these people to come to this
country. If they choose to come here, let them take the consequences. ” Yet this man
would as a matter of course have associated himself with any kind of petition or
manifesto against the internment of aliens. This feeling that antisemitism is something
sinful and disgraceful, something that a civilised person does not suffer from, is
unfavourable to a scientific approach, and indeed many people will admit that they are
frightened of probing too deeply into the subject. They are frightened, that is to say, of
discovering not only that antisemitism is spreading, but that they themselves are infected
by it.
To see this in perspective one must look back a few decades, to the days when Hitler was
an out-of-work house-painter whom nobody had heard of. One would then find that
though antisemitism is sufficiently in evidence now, it is probably LESS prevalent in
England than it was thirty years ago. It is true that antisemitism as a fully thought-out
racial or religious doctrine has never flourished in England. There has never been much
feeling against inter-marriage, or against Jews taking a prominent part in public life.
Nevertheless, thirty years ago it was accepted more or less as a law of nature that a Jew
was a figure of fun and — though superior in intelligence — slightly deficient in
“character”. In theory a Jew suffered from no legal disabilities, but in effect he was
debarred from certain professions. He would probably not have been accepted as an
officer in the navy, for instance, nor in what is called a “smart” regiment in the army. A
Jewish boy at a public school almost invariably had a bad time. He could, of course, live
down his Jewishness if he was exceptionally charming or athletic, but it was an initial
disability comparable to a stammer or a birthmark. Wealthy Jews tended to disguise
themselves under aristocratic English or Scottish names, and to the average person it
seemed quite natural that they should do this, just as it seems natural for a criminal to
change his identity if possible. About twenty years ago, in Rangoon, I was getting into a
taxi with a friend when a small ragged boy of fair complexion rushed up to us and began
a complicated story about having arrived from Colombo on a ship and wanting money to
get back. His manner and appearance were difficult to “place”, and I said to him:
“You speak very good English. What nationality are you? ”
He answered eagerly in his chi-chi accent: “I am a JOO, sir! ”
And I remember turning to my companion and saying, only partly in joke, “He admits it
openly. ” Ah the Jews I had known till then were people who were ashamed of being
Jews, or at any rate preferred not to talk about their ancestry, and if forced to do so tended
to use the word “Hebrew”.
The working-class attitude was no better. The Jew who grew up in Whitechapel took it
for granted that he would be assaulted, or at least hooted at, if he ventured into one of the
Christian slums nearby, and the “Jew joke” of the music halls and the comic papers was
almost consistently ill-natured. * There was also literary Jew-baiting, which in the hands
of Belloc, Chesterton and their followers reached an almost continental level of scurrility.
Non-Catholic writers were sometimes guilty of the same thing in a milder form. There
has been a perceptible antisemitic strain in English literature from Chaucer onwards, and
without even getting up from this table to consult a book I can think of passages which IF
WRITTEN NOW would be stigmatised as antisemitism, in the works of Shakespeare,
Smollett, Thackeray, Bernard Shaw, H. G. Wells, T. S. Eliot, Aldous Huxley and various
others. Offhand, the only English writers I can think of who, before the days of Hitler,
made a definite effort to stick up for Jews are Dickens and Charles Reade. And however
little the average intellectual may have agreed with the opinions of Belloc and
Chesterton, he did not acutely disapprove of them. Chesterton’s endless tirades against
Jews, which he thrust into stories and essays upon the flimsiest pretexts, never got him
into trouble — indeed Chesterton was one of the most generally respected figures in
English literary life. Anyone who wrote in that strain NOW would bring down a storm of
abuse upon himself, or more probably would find it impossible to get his writings
published.
* It is interesting to compare the “Jew joke” with that other stand-by of the music halls, the
“Scotch joke”, which superficially it resembles. Occasionally a story is told (e. g. the Jew
and the Scotsman who went into a pub together and both died of thirst) which puts both
races on an equality, but in general the Jew is credited MERELY with cunning and avarice
while the Scotsman is credited with physical hardihood as well. This is seen, for example, in
the story of the Jew and the Scotsman who go together to a meeting which has been
advertised as free. Unexpectedly there is a collection, and to avoid this the Jew faints and
the Scotsman carries him out. Here the Scotsman performs the athletic feat of carrying the
other. It would seem vaguely wrong if it were the other way about. ( Author’s footnote. )
If, as I suggest, prejudice against Jews has always been pretty widespread in England,
there is no reason to think that Hitler has genuinely diminished it. He has merely caused a
sharp division between the politically conscious person who realises that this is not a time
to throw stones at the Jews, and the unconscious person whose native antisemitism is
increased by the nervous strain of the war. One can assume, therefore, that many people
who would perish rather than admit to antisemitic feelings are secretly prone to them. I
have already indicated that I believe antisemitism to be essentially a neurosis, but of
course it has its rationalisations, which are sincerely believed in and are partly true. The
rationalisation put forward by the common man is that the Jew is an exploiter. The partial
justification for this is that the Jew, in England, is generally a small businessman — that is
to say a person whose depredations are more obvious and intelligible than those of, say, a
ha nk or an insurance company. Higher up the intellectual scale, antisemitism is
rationalised by saying that the Jew is a person who spreads disaffection and weakens
national morale. Again there is some superficial justification for this. During the past
twenty-five years the activities of what are called “intellectuals” have been largely
mischievous. I do not think it an exaggeration to say that if the “intellectuals” had done
their work a little more thoroughly, Britain would have surrendered in 1940. But the
disaffected intelligentsia inevitably included a large number of Jews. With some
plausibility it can be said that the Jews are the enemies of our native culture and our
national morale. Carefully examined, the claim is seen to be nonsense, but there are
always a few prominent individuals who can be cited in support of it. During the past few
years there has been what amounts to a counter-attack against the rather shallow Leftism
which was fashionable in the previous decade and which was exemplified by such
organisations as the Left Book Club. This counter-attack (see for instance such books as
Arnold Lutin’s THE GOOD GORILLA or Evelyn Waugh’s PUT OUT MORE FLAGS)
has an antisemitic strain, and it would probably be more marked if the subject were not so
obviously dangerous. It so happens that for some decades past Britain has had no
nationalist intelligentsia worth bothering about. But British nationalism, i. e. nationalism
of an intellectual kind, may revive, and probably will revive if Britain comes out of the
present war greatly weakened. The young intellectuals of 1950 may be as naively
patriotic as those of 1914. In that case the kind of antisemitism which flourished among
the anti-Dreyfusards in France, and which Chesterton and Belloc tried to import into this
country, might get a foothold.
I have no hard-and-fast theory about the origins of antisemitism. The two current
explanations, that it is due to economic causes, or on the other hand, that it is a legacy
from the Middle Ages, seem to me unsatisfactory, though I admit that if one combines
them they can be made to cover the facts. All I would say with confidence is that
antisemitism is part of the larger problem of nationalism, which has not yet been
seriously examined, and that the Jew is evidently a scapegoat, though for what he is a
scapegoat we do not yet know. In this essay I have relied almost entirely on my own
limited experience, and perhaps every one of my conclusions would be negatived by
other observers. The fact is that there are almost no data on this subject. But for what they
are worth I will summarise my opinions. Boiled down, they amount to this:
There is more antisemitism in England than we care to admit, and the war has
accentuated it, but it is not certain that it is on the increase if one thinks in terms of
decades rather than years.
It does not at present lead to open persecution, but it has the effect of making people
callous to the sufferings of Jews in other countries.
It is at bottom quite irrational and will not yield to argument.
The persecutions in Germany have caused much concealment of antisemitic feeling and
thus obscured the whole picture.
The subject needs serious investigation.
Only the last point is worth expanding. To study any subject scientifically one needs a
detached attitude, which is obviously harder when one’s own interests or emotions are
involved. Plenty of people who are quite capable of being objective about sea urchins,
say, or the square root of 2, become schizophrenic if they have to think about the sources
of their own income. What vitiates nearly all that is written about antisemitism is the
assumption in the writer’s mind that HE HIMSELF is immune to it. “Since I know that
antisemitism is irrational,” he argues, “it follows that I do not share it. ” He thus fails to
start his investigation in the one place where he could get hold of some reliable
evidence — that is, in his own mind.
It seems to me a safe assumption that the disease loosely called nationalism is now
almost universal. Antisemitism is only one manifestation of nationalism, and not
everyone will have the disease in that particular form. A Jew, for example, would not be
antisemitic: but then many Zionist Jews seem to me to be merely antisemites turned
upside-down, just as many Indians and Negroes display the normal colour prejudices in
an inverted form. The point is that something, some psychological vitamin, is lacking in
modem civilisation, and as a result we are all more or less subject to this lunacy of
believing that whole races or nations are mysteriously good or mysteriously evil. I defy
any modern intellectual to look closely and honestly into his own mind without coming
upon nationalistic loyalties and hatreds of one kind or another. It is the fact that he can
feel the emotional tug of such things, and yet see them dispassionately for what they are,
that gives him his status as an intellectual. It will be seen, therefore, that the starting point
for any investigation of antisemitism should not be “Why does this obviously irrational
belief appeal to other people? ” but “Why does antisemitism appeal TO ME? What is
there about it that I feel to be true? ” If one asks this question one at least discovers one’s
own rationalisations, and it may be possible to find out what lies beneath them.
Antisemitism should be investigated — and I will not say by antisemites, but at any rate by
people who know that they are not immune to that kind of emotion. When Hitler has
disappeared a real enquiry into this subject will be possible, and it would probably be best
to start not by debunking antisemitism, but by marshalling all the justifications for it that
can be found, in one’s own mind or anybody else’s. In that way one might get some clues
that would lead to its psychological roots. But that antisemitism will be definitively
CURED, without curing the larger disease of nationalism, I do not believe.
FREEDOM OF THE PARK (1945)
A few weeks ago, five people who were selling papers outside Hyde Park were arrested
by the police for obstruction. When taken before the magistartes, they were all found
guilty, four of them being bound over for six months and the other sentenced to forty
shillings fine or a month’s imprisonments. He preferred to serve his tenn.
The papers these people were selling were PEACE NEWS, FORWARD and FREEDOM,
besides other kindred literature. PEACE NEWS is the organ of the Peace Pledge Union,
FREEDOM (till recently called WAR COMMENTARY) is that of the Anarchists; as for
FORWARD, its politics defy definition, but at any rate it is violently Left. The
magistrate, in passing sentence, stated that he was not influenced by the nature of the
literature that was being sold; he was concerned merely with the fact of obstruction, and
that this offence had technically been committed.
This raises several important points. To begin with, how does the law stand on the
subject? As far as I can discover, selling newspapers in the street is technically an
obstruction, at any rate if you fail to move when the police tell you to. So it would be
legally possible for any policeman who felt like it to arrest any newsboy for selling the
EVENING NEWS. Obviously this doesn’t happen, so that the enforcement of the law
depends on the discretion of the police.
And what makes the police decide to arrest one man rather than another? However it may
be with the magistrate, I find it hard to believe that in this case the police were not
influenced by political considerations. It is a bit too much of a coincidence that they
should have picked on people selling just those papers.
If they had also arrested someone selling TRUTH, or the TABLET, or the SPECTATOR,
or even the CHURCH TIMES, their impartiality would be easier to believe in.
The British police are not like the continental GENDARMERIE or Gestapo, but I do not
think [sic] one maligns them in saying that, in the past, they have been unfriendly to Left-
wing activities. They have generally shown a tendency to side with those whom they
regarded as the defenders of private property. Till quite recently “red” and “illegal” were
almost synonymous, and it was always the seller of, say the DAILY WORKER, never the
seller of say, the DAILY TELEGRAPH, who was moved on and generally harassed.
Apparently it can be the same, at any rate at moments, under a Labour Government.
A thing I would like to know — it is a thing we hear very little about — is what changes
are made in the administrative personnel when there has been a change of government. .
Does a police officer who has a vague notion that “Socialism” means something against
the law carry on just the same when the government itself is Socialist?
When a Labour government takes over, I wonder what happens to Scotland Yard Special
Branch? To Military Intelligence? We are not told, but such symptoms as there are do not
suggest that any very extensive shuffling is going on.
However, the main point of this episode is that the sellers of newspapers and pamphlets
should be interfered with at all. Which particular minority is singled out — whether
Pacifists, Communists, Anarchists, Jehovah’s Witness of the Legion of Christian
Reformers who recently declared Hitler to be Jesus Christ — is a secondary matter. It is of
symptomatic importance that these people should have been arrested at that particular
spot. You are not allowed to sell literature inside Hyde Park, but for many years past it
has been usual for the paper-sellers to station themselves outside the gates and distribute
literature connected with the open air meetings a hundred yards away. Every kind of
publication has been sold there without interference.
hundred pounds worth of jewellery seems to him an excellent haul. And though the
stories are convincing in their physical detail, they contain very little sensationalism —
very few corpses, hardly any blood, no sex crimes, no sadism, no perversions of any kind.
It seems to be the case that the crime story, at any rate on its higher levels, has greatly
increased in blood-thirstiness during the past twenty years. Some of the early detective
stories do not even contain a murder. The Sherlock Holmes stories, for instance, are not
all murders, and some of them do not even deal with an indictable crime. So also with the
John Thorndyke stories, while of the Max Carrados stories only a minority are murders.
Since 1918, however, a detective story not containing a murder has been a great rarity,
and the most disgusting details of dismemberment and exhumation are commonly
exploited. Some of the Peter Wimsey stories, for instance, display an extremely morbid
interest in corpses. The Raffles stories, written from the angle of the criminal, are much
less anti-social than many modern stories written from the angle of the detective. The
main impression that they leave behind is of boyishness. They belong to a time when
people had standards, though they happened to be foolish standards. Their key-phrase is
‘not done’. The line that they draw between good and evil is as senseless as a Polynesian
taboo, but at least, like the taboo, it has the advantage that everyone accepts it.
So much for RAFFLES. Now for a header into the cesspool. NO ORCHIDS FOR MISS
BLANDISH, by James Hadley Chase, was published in 1939, but seems to have enjoyed
its greatest popularity in 1940, during the Battle of Britain and the blitz. In its main
outlines its story is this:
Miss Blandish, the daughter of a millionaire, is kidnapped by some gangsters who are
almost immediately surprised and killed off by a larger and better organized gang. They
hold her to ransom and extract half a million dollars from her father. Their original plan
had been to kill her as soon as the ransom-money was received, but a chance keeps her
alive. One of the gang is a young man named Slim, whose sole pleasure in life consists in
driving knives into other people’s bellies. In childhood he has graduated by cutting up
living animals with a pair of rusty scissors. Slim is sexually impotent, but takes a kind of
fancy to Miss Blandish. Slim’s mother, who is the real brains of the gang, sees in this the
chance of curing Slim’s impotence, and decides to keep Miss Blandish in custody till
Slim shall have succeeded in raping her. After many efforts and much persuasion,
including the flogging of Miss Blandish with a length of rubber hosepipe, the rape is
achieved. Meanwhile Miss Blandish’ s father has hired a private detective, and by means
of bribery and torture the detective and the police manage to round up and exterminate
the whole gang. Slim escapes with Miss Blandish and is killed after a final rape, and the
detective prepares to restore Miss Blandish to her family. By this time, however, she has
developed such a taste for Slim’s caresses * that she feels unable to live without him, and
she jumps, out of the window of a sky-scraper.
Several other points need noticing before one can grasp the full implications of this book.
To begin with, its central story bears a very marked resemblance to William Fau lk ner’s
novel, Sanctuary. Secondly, it is not, as one might expect, the product of an illiterate
hack, but a brilliant piece of writing, with hardly a wasted word or a jarring note
anywhere. Thirdly, the whole book, recit as well as dialogue, is written in the American
language; the author, an Englishman who has (I believe) never been in the United States,
seems to have made a complete mental transference to the American underworld.
Fourthly, the book sold, according to its publishers, no less than half a million copies.
I have already outlined the plot, but the subject-matter is much more sordid and brutal
than this suggests. The book contains eight full-dress murders, an unassessable number of
casual killings and woundings, an exhumation (with a careful reminder of the stench), the
flogging of Miss Blandish, the torture of another woman with red-hot cigarette-ends, a
strip-tease act, a third-degree scene of unheard-of cruelty and much else of the same kind.
It assumes great sexual sophistication in its readers (there is a scene, for instance, in
which a gangster, presumably of masochistic tendency, has an orgasm in the moment of
being knifed), and it takes for granted the most complete corruption and self-seeking as
the norm of human behaviour. The detective, for instance, is almost as great a rogue as
the gangsters, and actuated by nearly the same motives. Like them, he is in pursuit of
‘five hundred grand’. It is necessary to the machinery of the story that Mr. Blandish
should be anxious to get his daughter back, but apart from this, such things as affection,
friendship, good nature or even ordinary politeness simply do not enter. Nor, to any great
extent does nonnal sexuality. Ultimately only one motive is at work throughout the whole
story: the pursuit of power.
* Another reading of the final episode is possible. It may mean merely that Miss Blandish is
pregnant. But the interpretation I have given above seems more in keeping with the general
brutality of the book. ( Author’s footnote, 1945)
It should be noticed that the book is not in the ordinary sense pornography. Unlike most
books that deal in sexual sadism, it lays the emphasis on the cruelty and not on the
pleasure. Slim, the ravisher of Miss Blandish, has ‘wet slobbering lips’: this is disgusting,
and it is meant to be disgusting. But the scenes describing cruelty to women are
comparatively perfunctory. The real high-spots of the book are cruelties committed by
men upon other men; above all, the third-degreeing of the gangster, Eddie Schultz, who is
lashed into a chair and flogged on the windpipe with truncheons, his arms broken by
fresh blows as he breaks loose. In another of Mr. Chase’s books, HE WON’T NEED IT
NOW, the hero, who is intended to be a sympathetic and perhaps even noble character, is
described as stamping on somebody’s face, and then, having crushed the man’s mouth in,
grinding his heel round and round in it. Even when physical incidents of this kind are not
occurring, the mental atmosphere of these books is always the same. Their whole theme
is the struggle for power and the triumph of the strong over the weak. The big gangsters
wipe out the little ones as mercilessly as a pike gobbling up the little fish in a pond; the
police kill off the criminals as cruelly as the angler kills the pike. If ultimately one sides
with the police against the gangsters, it is merely because they are better organized and
more powerful, because, in fact, the law is a bigger racket than crime. Might is right: vae
victis.
As I have mentioned already, NO ORCHIDS enjoyed its greatest vogue in 1940, though
it was successfully running as a play till some time later. It was, in fact, one of the things
that helped to console people for the boredom of being bombed. Early in the war the
NEW YORKER had a picture of a little man approaching a news-stall littered with paper
with such headlines as ‘Great Tank Battles in Northern France’, ‘Big Naval Battle in the
North Sea’, ‘Huge Air Battles over the Channel’, etc. , etc. The little man is saying
‘ACTION STORIES, please’. That little man stood for all the drugged millions to whom
the world of the gangster and the prize-ring is more ‘real’, more ‘tough’, than such things
as wars, revolutions, earthquakes, famines and pestilences. From the point of view of a
reader of ACTION STORIES, a description of the London blitz, or of the struggles of the
European underground parties, would be ‘sissy stuff. On the other hand, some puny gun-
battle in Chicago, resulting in perhaps half a dozen deaths, would seem genuinely
‘tough’. This habit of mind is now extremely widespread. A soldier sprawls in a muddy
trench, with the machine-gun bullets crackling a foot or two overhead, and whiles away
his intolerable boredom by reading an American gangster story. And what is it that makes
that story so exciting? Precisely the fact that people are shooting at each other with
machine-guns! Neither the soldier nor anyone else sees anything curious in this. It is
taken for granted that an imaginary bullet is more thrilling than a real one.
The obvious explanation is that in real life one is usually a passive victim, whereas in the
adventure story one can think of oneself as being at the centre of events. But there is
more to it than that. Here it is necessary to refer again to the curious fact of NO
ORCHIDS being written — with technical errors, perhaps, but certainly with considerable
skill — in the American language.
There exists in America an enonnous literature of more or less the same stamp as NO
ORCHIDS. Quite apart from books, there is the huge array of ‘pulp magazines’, graded
so as to cater for different kinds of fantasy, but nearly all having much the same mental
atmosphere. A few of them go in for straight pornography, but the great majority are
quite plainly aimed at sadists and masochists. Sold at threepence a copy under the title of
Yank Mags, * these things used to enjoy considerable popularity in England, but when
the supply dried up owing to the war, no satisfactory substitute was forthcoming. English
imitations of the ‘pulp magazine’ do now exist, but they are poor things compared with
the original. English crook films, again, never approach the American crook film in
brutality. And yet the career of Mr. Chase shows how deep the American influence has
already gone. Not only is he himself living a continuous fantasy-life in the Chicago
underworld, but he can count on hundreds of thousands of readers who know what is
meant by a ‘clipshop’ or the ‘hotsquat’, do not have to do mental arithmetic when
confronted by ‘fifty grand’, and understand at sight a sentence like ‘Johnny was a rummy
and only two jumps ahead of the nut-factory’. Evidently there are great numbers of
English people who are partly americanized in language and, one ought to add, in moral
outlook. For there was no popular protest against NO ORCHIDS. In the end it was
withdrawn, but only retrospectively, when a later work, MISS CALLAGHAN COMES
TO GRIEF, brought Mr. Chase’s books to the attention of the authorities. Judging by
casual conversations at the time, ordinary readers got a mild thrill out of the obscenities
of NO ORCHIDS, but saw nothing undesirable in the book as a whole. Many people,
incidentally, were under the impression that it was an American book reissued in
England.
* They are said to have been imported into this country as ballast which accounted for their
low price and crumped appearance. Since the war the ships have been ballasted with
something more useful, probably gravel. (Author’s footnote)
The thing that the ordinary reader OUGHT to have objected to — almost certainly would
have objected to, a few decades earlier — was the equivocal attitude towards crime. It is
implied throughout NO ORCHIDS that being a criminal is only reprehensible in the
sense that it does not pay. Being a policeman pays better, but there is no moral difference,
since the police use essentially criminal methods. In a book like HE WON’T NEED IT
NOW the distinction between crime and crime -prevention practically disappears. This is
a new departure for English sensational fiction, in which till recently there has always
been a sharp distinction between right and wrong and a general agreement that virtue
must triumph in the last chapter. English books glorifying crime (modern crime, that is —
pirates and highwaymen are different) are very rare. Even a book like RAFFLES, as I
have pointed out, is governed by powerful taboos, and it is clearly understood that
Raffles ’s crimes must be expiated sooner or later. In America, both in life and fiction, the
tendency to tolerate crime, even to admire the criminal so long as he is success, is very
much more marked. It is, indeed, ultimately this attitude that has made it possible for
crime to flourish upon so huge a scale. Books have been written about A1 Capone that are
hardly different in tone from the books written about Henry Ford, Stalin, Lord Northcliffe
and all the rest of the ‘log cabin to White House’ brigade. And switching back eighty
years, one finds Mark Twain adopting much the same attitude towards the disgusting
bandit Slade, hero of twenty-eight murders, and towards the Western desperadoes
generally. They were successful, they ‘made good’, therefore he admired them.
In a book like NO ORCHIDS one is not, as in the old-style crime story, simply escaping
from dull reality into an imaginary world of action. One’s escape is essentially into
cruelty and sexual perversion. No Orchids is aimed at the power-instinct, which
RAFFLES or the Sherlock Holmes stories are not. At the same time the English attitude
towards crime is not so superior to the American as I may have seemed to imply. It too is
mixed up with power-worship, and has become more noticeably so in the last twenty
years. A writer who is worth examining is Edgar Wallace, especially in such typical
books as THE ORATOR and the Mr. J. G. Reeder stories. Wallace was one of the first
crime-story writers to break away from the old tradition of the private detective and make
his central figure a Scotland Yard official. Sherlock Holmes is an amateur, solving his
problems without the help and even, in the earlier stories, against the opposition of the
police. Moreover, like Lupin, he is essentially an intellectual, even a scientist. He reasons
logically from observed fact, and his intellectuality is constantly contrasted with the
routine methods of the police. Wallace objected strongly to this slur, as he considered it,
on Scotland Yard, and in several newspaper articles he went out of his way to denounce
Holmes byname. His own ideal was the detective-inspector who catches criminals not
because he is intellectually brilliant but because he is part of an all-powerful organi —
zation. Hence the curious fact that in Wallace’s most characteristic stories the ‘clue’ and
the ‘deduction’ play no part. The criminal is always defeated by an incredible
coincidence, or because in some unexplained manner the police know all about the crime
beforehand. The tone of the stories makes it quite clear that Wallace’s admiration for the
police is pure bully-worship. A Scotland Yard detective is the most powerful kind of
being that he can imagine, while the criminal figures in his mind as an outlaw against
whom anything is permissible, like the condemned slaves in the Roman arena. His
policemen behave much more brutally than British policemen do in real life — they hit
people with out provocation, fire revolvers past their ears to terrify them and so on — and
some of the stories exhibit a fearful intellectual sadism. (For instance, Wallace likes to
arrange things so that the villain is hanged on the same day as the heroine is married. ) But
it is sadism after the English fashion: that is to say, it is unconscious, there is not overtly
any sex in it, and it keeps within the bounds of the law. The British public tolerates a
harsh criminal law and gets a kick out of monstrously unfair murder trials: but still that is
better, on any account, than tolerating or admiring crime. If one must worship a bully, it
is better that he should be a policeman than a gangster. Wallace is still governed to some
extent by the concept of ‘not done. ’ In NO ORCHIDS anything is ‘done’ so long as it
leads on to power. All the barriers are down, all the motives are out in the open. Chase is
a worse symptom than Wallace, to the extent that all-in wrestling is worse than boxing, or
Fascism is worse than capitalist democracy.
In borrowing from William Faul kn er’s SANCTUARY, Chase only took the plot; the
mental atmosphere of the two books is not similar. Chase really derives from other
sources, and this particular bit of borrowing is only symbolic. What it symbolizes is the
vulgarization of ideas which is constantly happening, and which probably happens faster
in an age of print. Chase has been described as ‘Faulkner for the masses’, but it would be
more accurate to describe him as Carlyle for the masses. He is a popular writer — there are
many such in America, but they are still rarities in England — who has caught up with
what is now fashionable to call ‘realism’, meaning the doctrine that might is right. The
growth of ‘realism’ has been the great feature of the intellectual history of our own age.
Why this should be so is a complicated question. The interconnexion between sadism,
masochism, success-worship, power-worship, nationalism, and totalitarianism is a huge
subject whose edges have barely been scratched, and even to mention it is considered
somewhat indelicate. To take merely the first example that comes to mind, I believe no
one has ever pointed out the sadistic and masochistic element in Bernard Shaw’s work,
still less suggested that this probably has some connexion with Shaw’s admiration for
dictators. Fascism is often loosely equated with sadism, but nearly always by people who
see nothing wrong in the most slavish worship of Stalin. The truth is, of course, that the
countless English intellectuals who kiss the arse of Stalin are not different from the
minority who give their allegiance to Hitler or Mussolini, nor from the efficiency experts
who preached ‘punch’, ‘drive’, ‘personality’ and ‘learn to be a Tiger man’ in the
nineteen-twenties, nor from that older generation of intellectuals, Carlyle, Creasey and
the rest of them, who bowed down before Gennan militarism. All of them are
worshipping power and successful cruelty. It is important to notice that the cult of power
tends to be mixed up with a love of cruelty and wickedness FOR THEIR OWN SAKES.
A tyrant is all the more admired if he happens to be a bloodstained crook as well, and ‘the
end justifies the means’ often becomes, in effect, ‘the means justify themselves provided
they are dirty enough’. This idea colours the outlook of all sympathizers with
totalitarianism, and accounts, for instance, for the positive delight with which many
English intellectuals greeted the Nazi-Soviet pact. It was a step only doubtfully useful to
the U. S. S. R. , but it was entirely unmoral, and for that reason to be admired; the
explanations of it, which were numerous and self-contradictory, could come afterwards.
Until recently the characteristic adventure stories of the English-speaking peoples have
been stories in which the hero fights AGAINST ODDS. This is true all the way from
Robin Hood to Pop-eye the Sailor. Perhaps the basic myth of the Western world is Jack
the Giant-killer, but to be brought up to date this should be renamed Jack the Dwarf-
killer, and there already exists a considerable literature which teaches, either overtly or
implicitly, that one should side with the big man against the little man. Most of what is
now written about foreign policy is simply an embroidery on this theme, and for several
decades such phrases as ‘Play the game’, ‘Don’t hit a man when he’s down’ and ‘It’s not
cricket’ have never failed to draw a snigger from anyone of intellectual pretensions. What
is comparatively new is to find the accepted pattern, according to which (a) right is right
and wrong is wrong, whoever wins, and (b) weakness must be respected, disappearing
from popular literature as well. When I first read D. H. Lawrence’s novels, at the age of
about twenty, I was puzzled by the fact that there did not seem to be any classification of
the characters into ‘good’ and ‘bad’. Lawrence seemed to sympathize with all of them
about equally, and this was so unusual as to give me the feeling of having lost my
bearings. Today no one would think of looking for heroes and villains in a serious novel,
but in lowbrow fiction one still expects to find a sharp distinction between right and
wrong and between legality and illegality. The common people, on the whole, are still
living in the world of absolute good and evil from which the intellectuals have long since
escaped. But the popularity of NO ORCHIDS and the American books and magazines to
which it is akin shows how rapidly the doctrine of ‘realism’ is gaining ground.
Several people, after reading NO ORCHIDS, have remarked to me, ‘It’s pure Fascism’.
This is a correct description, although the book has not the smallest connexion with
politics and very little with social or economic problems. It has merely the same relation
to Fascism as, say Trollope’s novels have to nineteenth-century capitalism. It is a
daydream appropriate to a totalitarian age. In his imagined world of gangsters Chase is
presenting, as it were, a distilled version of the modem political scene, in which such
things as mass bombing of civilians, the use of hostages, torture to obtain confessions,
secret prisons, execution without trial, floggings with rubber truncheons, drownings in
cesspools, systematic falsification of records and statistics, treachery, bribery, and
quislingism are normal and morally neutral, even admirable when they are done in a large
and bold way. The average man is not directly interested in politics, and when he reads,
he wants the current struggles of the world to be translated into a simple story about
individuals. He can take an interest in Slim and Fenner as he could not in the G. P. U. and
the Gestapo. People worship power in the form in which they are able to understand it. A
twelve-year-old boy worships Jack Dempsey. An adolescent in a Glasgow slum worships
A1 Capone. An aspiring pupil at a business college worships Lord Nuffield. A NEW
STATESMAN reader worships Stalin. There is a difference in intellectual maturity, but
none in moral outlook. Thirty years ago the heroes of popular fiction had nothing in
common with Mr. Chase’s gangsters and detectives, and the idols of the English liberal
intelligentsia were also comparatively sympathetic figures. Between Holmes and Fenner
on the one hand, and between Abraham Lincoln and Stalin on the other, there is a similar
gulf.
One ought not to infer too much from the success of Mr. Chase’s books. It is possible that
it is an isolated phenomenon, brought about by the mingled boredom and brutality of war.
But if such books should definitely acclimatize themselves in England, instead of being
merely a half-understood import from America, there would be good grounds for dismay.
In choosing RAFFLES as a background for NO ORCHIDS I deliberately chose a book
which by the standards of its time was morally equivocal. Raffles, as I have pointed out,
has no real moral code, no religion, certainly no social consciousness. All he has is a set
of reflexes the nervous system, as it were, of a gentleman. Give him a sharp tap on this
reflex or that (they are called ‘sport’, ‘pal’, ‘woman’, ‘king and country’ and so forth),
and you get a predictable reaction. In Mr. Chase’s books there are no gentlemen and no
taboos. Emancipation is complete. Freud and Machiavelli have reached the outer suburbs.
Comparing the schoolboy atmosphere of the one book with the cruelty and corruption of
the other, one is driven to feel that snobbishness, like hypocrisy, is a check upon
behaviour whose value from a social point of view has been underrated.
ANTISEMITISM IN BRITAIN (1945)
There are about 400,000 known Jews in Britain, and in addition some thousands or, at
most, scores of thousands of Jewish refugees who have entered the country from 1934
onwards. The Jewish population is almost entirely concentrated in half a dozen big towns
and is mostly employed in the food, clothing and furniture trades. A few of the big
monopolies, such as the ICI, one or two leading newspapers and at least one big chain of
department stores are Jewish-owned or partly Jewish-owned, but it would be very far
from the truth to say that British business life is dominated by Jews. The Jews seem, on
the contrary, to have failed to keep up with the modern tendency towards big
amalgamations and to have remained fixed in those trades which are necessarily carried
out on a small scale and by old-fashioned methods.
I start off with these background facts, which are already known to any well-informed
person, in order to emphasise that there is no real Jewish “problem” in England. The Jews
are not numerous or powerful enough, and it is only in what are loosely called
“intellectual circles” that they have any noticeable influence.
Yet it is generally admitted
that antisemitism is on the increase, that it has been greatly exacerbated by the war, and
that humane and enlightened people are not immune to it. It does not take violent forms
(English people are almost invariably gentle and law-abiding), but it is ill-natured
enough, and in favourable circumstances it could have political results. Here are some
samples of antisemitic remarks that have been made to me during the past year or two:
Middle-aged office employee: “I generally come to work by bus. It takes longer, but I
don’t care about using the Underground from Golders Green nowadays. There’s too
many of the Chosen Race travelling on that line. ”
Tobacconist (woman): “No, I’ve got no matches for you. I should try the lady down the
street. SHE’S always got matches. One of the Chosen Race, you see. ”
Young intellectual, Communist or near-Communist: “No, I do NOT like Jews. I’ve never
made any secret of that. I can’t stick them. Mind you, I’m not antisemitic, of course. ”
Middle-class woman: “Well, no one could call me antisemitic, but I do think the way
these Jews behave is too absolutely stinking. The way they push their way to the head of
queues, and so on. They’re so abominably selfish. I think they’re responsible for a lot of
what happens to them. ”
Milk roundsman: “A Jew don’t do no work, not the same as what an Englishman does.
‘E’s too clever. We work with this ‘ere” (flexes his biceps). “They work with that there”
(taps his forehead).
Chartered accountant, intelligent, left-wing in an undirected way: “These bloody Yids are
all pro-German. They’d change sides tomorrow if the Nazis got here. I see a lot of them
in my business. They admire Hitler at the bottom of their hearts. They’ll always suck up
to anyone who kicks them. ”
Intelligent woman, on being offered a book dealing with antisemitism and Gennan
atrocities: “Don’t show it me, PLEASE don’t show it to me. It’ll only make me hate the
Jews more than ever. ”
I could fill pages with similar remarks, but these will do to go on with. Two facts emerge
from them. One — which is very important and which I must return to in a moment — is
that above a certain intellectual level people are ashamed of being antisemitic and are
careful to draw a distinction between “antisemitism” and “disliking Jews”. The other is
that antisemitism is an irrational thing. The Jews are accused of specific offences (for
instance, bad behaviour in food queues) which the person speaking feels strongly about,
but it is obvious that these accusations merely rationalise some deep-rooted prejudice. To
attempt to counter them with facts and statistics is useless, and may sometimes be worse
than useless. As the last of the above-quoted remarks shows, people can remain
antisemitic, or at least anti-Jewish, while being fully aware that their outlook is
indefensible. If you dislike somebody, you dislike him and there is an end of it: your
feelings are not made any better by a recital of his virtues.
It so happens that the war has encouraged the growth of antisemitism and even, in the
eyes of many ordinary people, given some justification for it. To begin with, the Jews are
one people of whom it can be said with complete certainty that they will benefit by an
Allied victory. Consequently the theory that “this is a Jewish war” has a certain
plausibility, all the more so because the Jewish war effort seldom gets its fair share of
recognition. The British Empire is a huge heterogeneous organisation held together
largely by mutual consent, and it is often necessary to flatter the less reliable elements at
the expense of the more loyal ones. To publicise the exploits of Jewish soldiers, or even
to admit the existence of a considerable Jewish army in the Middle East, rouses hostility
in South Africa, the Arab coun tries and elsewhere: it is easier to ignore the whole subject
and allow the man in the street to go on thinking that Jews are exceptionally clever at
dodging military service. Then again, Jews are to be found in exactly those trades which
are bound to incur unpopularity with the civilian public in war-time. Jews are mostly
concerned with selling food, clothes, furniture and tobacco — exactly the commodities of
which there is a chronic shortage, with consequent overcharging, black-marketing and
favouritism. And again, the common charge that Jews behave in an exceptionally
cowardly way during air raids was given a certain amount of colour by the big raids of
1940. As it happened, the Jewish quarter of Whitechapel was one of the first areas to be
heavily blitzed, with the natural result that swarms of Jewish refugees distributed
themselves all over London. If one judged merely from these war-time phenomena, it
would be easy to imagine that antisemitism is a quasi-rational thing, founded on mistaken
premises. And naturally the antisemite thinks of himself as a reasonable being. Whenever
I have touched on this subject in a newspaper article, I have always had a considerable
“come-back”, and invariably some of the letters are from well-balanced, middling
people — doctors, for example — with no apparent economic grievance. These people
always say (as Hitler says in MEIN KAMPF) that they started out with no anti-Jewish
prejudice but were driven into their present position by mere observation of the facts. Yet
one of the marks of antisemitism is an ability to believe stories that could not possibly be
true. One could see a good example of this in the strange accident that occurred in
London in 1942, when a crowd, frightened by a bomb-burst nearby, fled into the mouth
of an Underground station, with the result that something over a hundred people were
crushed to death. The very same day it was repeated all over London that “the Jews were
responsible”. Clearly, if people will believe this kind of thing, one will not get much
further by arguing with them. The only useful approach is to discover WHY they can
swallow absurdities on one particular subject while remaining sane on others.
But now let me come back to that point I mentioned earlier — that there is widespread
awareness of the prevalence of antisemitic feeling, and unwillingness to admit sharing it.
Among educated people, antisemitism is held to be an unforgivable sin and in a quite
different category from other kinds of racial prejudice. People will go to remarkable
lengths to demonstrate that they are NOT antisemitic. Thus, in 1943 an intercession
service on behalf of the Polish Jews was held in a synagogue in St John’s Wood. The
local authorities declared themselves anxious to participate in it, and the service was
attended by the mayor of the borough in his robes and chain, by representatives of all the
churches, and by detachments of RAF, Home Guards, nurses, Boy Scouts and what not.
On the surface it was a touching demonstration of solidarity with the suffering Jews. But
it was essentially a CONSCIOUS effort to behave decently by people whose subjective
feelings must in many cases have been very different. That quarter of London is partly
Jewish, antisemitism is rife there, and, as I well knew, some of the men sitting round me
in the synagogue were tinged by it. Indeed, the commander of my own platoon of Home
Guards, who had been especially keen beforehand that we should “make a good show” at
the intercession service, was an ex-member of Mosley’s Blackshirts. While this division
of feeling exists, tolerance of mass violence against Jews, or, what is more important,
antisemitic legislation, are not possible in England. It is not at present possible, indeed,
that antisemitism should BECOME RESPECTABLE. But this is less of an advantage
than it might appear.
One effect of the persecutions in Gennany has been to prevent antisemitism from being
seriously studied. In England a brief inadequate survey was made by Mass Observation a
year or two ago, but if there has been any other investigation of the subject, then its
findings have been kept strictly secret. At the same time there has been conscious
suppression, by all thoughtful people, of anything likely to wound Jewish susceptibilities.
After 1934 the Jew joke disappeared as though by magic from postcards, periodicals and
the music-hall stage, and to put an unsympathetic Jewish character into a novel or short
story came to be regarded as antisemitism. On the Palestine issue, too, it was DE
RIGUEUR among enlightened people to accept the Jewish case as proved and avoid
examining the claims of the Arabs — a decision which might be correct on its own merits,
but which was adopted primarily because the Jews were in trouble and it was felt that one
must not criticise them. Thanks to Hitler, therefore, you had a situation in which the press
was in effect censored in favour of the Jews while in private antisemitism was on the up-
grade, even, to some extent, among sensitive and intelligent people. This was particularly
noticeable in 1940 at the time of the internment of the refugees. Naturally, every thinking
person felt that it was his duty to protest against the wholesale locking-up of unfortunate
foreigners who for the most part were only in England because they were opponents of
Hitler. Privately, however, one heard very different sentiments expressed. A minority of
the refugees behaved in an exceedingly tactless way, and the feeling against them
necessarily had an antisemitic undercurrent, since they were largely Jews. A very eminent
figure in the Labour Party — I won’t name him, but he is one of the most respected people
in England — said to me quite violently: “We never asked these people to come to this
country. If they choose to come here, let them take the consequences. ” Yet this man
would as a matter of course have associated himself with any kind of petition or
manifesto against the internment of aliens. This feeling that antisemitism is something
sinful and disgraceful, something that a civilised person does not suffer from, is
unfavourable to a scientific approach, and indeed many people will admit that they are
frightened of probing too deeply into the subject. They are frightened, that is to say, of
discovering not only that antisemitism is spreading, but that they themselves are infected
by it.
To see this in perspective one must look back a few decades, to the days when Hitler was
an out-of-work house-painter whom nobody had heard of. One would then find that
though antisemitism is sufficiently in evidence now, it is probably LESS prevalent in
England than it was thirty years ago. It is true that antisemitism as a fully thought-out
racial or religious doctrine has never flourished in England. There has never been much
feeling against inter-marriage, or against Jews taking a prominent part in public life.
Nevertheless, thirty years ago it was accepted more or less as a law of nature that a Jew
was a figure of fun and — though superior in intelligence — slightly deficient in
“character”. In theory a Jew suffered from no legal disabilities, but in effect he was
debarred from certain professions. He would probably not have been accepted as an
officer in the navy, for instance, nor in what is called a “smart” regiment in the army. A
Jewish boy at a public school almost invariably had a bad time. He could, of course, live
down his Jewishness if he was exceptionally charming or athletic, but it was an initial
disability comparable to a stammer or a birthmark. Wealthy Jews tended to disguise
themselves under aristocratic English or Scottish names, and to the average person it
seemed quite natural that they should do this, just as it seems natural for a criminal to
change his identity if possible. About twenty years ago, in Rangoon, I was getting into a
taxi with a friend when a small ragged boy of fair complexion rushed up to us and began
a complicated story about having arrived from Colombo on a ship and wanting money to
get back. His manner and appearance were difficult to “place”, and I said to him:
“You speak very good English. What nationality are you? ”
He answered eagerly in his chi-chi accent: “I am a JOO, sir! ”
And I remember turning to my companion and saying, only partly in joke, “He admits it
openly. ” Ah the Jews I had known till then were people who were ashamed of being
Jews, or at any rate preferred not to talk about their ancestry, and if forced to do so tended
to use the word “Hebrew”.
The working-class attitude was no better. The Jew who grew up in Whitechapel took it
for granted that he would be assaulted, or at least hooted at, if he ventured into one of the
Christian slums nearby, and the “Jew joke” of the music halls and the comic papers was
almost consistently ill-natured. * There was also literary Jew-baiting, which in the hands
of Belloc, Chesterton and their followers reached an almost continental level of scurrility.
Non-Catholic writers were sometimes guilty of the same thing in a milder form. There
has been a perceptible antisemitic strain in English literature from Chaucer onwards, and
without even getting up from this table to consult a book I can think of passages which IF
WRITTEN NOW would be stigmatised as antisemitism, in the works of Shakespeare,
Smollett, Thackeray, Bernard Shaw, H. G. Wells, T. S. Eliot, Aldous Huxley and various
others. Offhand, the only English writers I can think of who, before the days of Hitler,
made a definite effort to stick up for Jews are Dickens and Charles Reade. And however
little the average intellectual may have agreed with the opinions of Belloc and
Chesterton, he did not acutely disapprove of them. Chesterton’s endless tirades against
Jews, which he thrust into stories and essays upon the flimsiest pretexts, never got him
into trouble — indeed Chesterton was one of the most generally respected figures in
English literary life. Anyone who wrote in that strain NOW would bring down a storm of
abuse upon himself, or more probably would find it impossible to get his writings
published.
* It is interesting to compare the “Jew joke” with that other stand-by of the music halls, the
“Scotch joke”, which superficially it resembles. Occasionally a story is told (e. g. the Jew
and the Scotsman who went into a pub together and both died of thirst) which puts both
races on an equality, but in general the Jew is credited MERELY with cunning and avarice
while the Scotsman is credited with physical hardihood as well. This is seen, for example, in
the story of the Jew and the Scotsman who go together to a meeting which has been
advertised as free. Unexpectedly there is a collection, and to avoid this the Jew faints and
the Scotsman carries him out. Here the Scotsman performs the athletic feat of carrying the
other. It would seem vaguely wrong if it were the other way about. ( Author’s footnote. )
If, as I suggest, prejudice against Jews has always been pretty widespread in England,
there is no reason to think that Hitler has genuinely diminished it. He has merely caused a
sharp division between the politically conscious person who realises that this is not a time
to throw stones at the Jews, and the unconscious person whose native antisemitism is
increased by the nervous strain of the war. One can assume, therefore, that many people
who would perish rather than admit to antisemitic feelings are secretly prone to them. I
have already indicated that I believe antisemitism to be essentially a neurosis, but of
course it has its rationalisations, which are sincerely believed in and are partly true. The
rationalisation put forward by the common man is that the Jew is an exploiter. The partial
justification for this is that the Jew, in England, is generally a small businessman — that is
to say a person whose depredations are more obvious and intelligible than those of, say, a
ha nk or an insurance company. Higher up the intellectual scale, antisemitism is
rationalised by saying that the Jew is a person who spreads disaffection and weakens
national morale. Again there is some superficial justification for this. During the past
twenty-five years the activities of what are called “intellectuals” have been largely
mischievous. I do not think it an exaggeration to say that if the “intellectuals” had done
their work a little more thoroughly, Britain would have surrendered in 1940. But the
disaffected intelligentsia inevitably included a large number of Jews. With some
plausibility it can be said that the Jews are the enemies of our native culture and our
national morale. Carefully examined, the claim is seen to be nonsense, but there are
always a few prominent individuals who can be cited in support of it. During the past few
years there has been what amounts to a counter-attack against the rather shallow Leftism
which was fashionable in the previous decade and which was exemplified by such
organisations as the Left Book Club. This counter-attack (see for instance such books as
Arnold Lutin’s THE GOOD GORILLA or Evelyn Waugh’s PUT OUT MORE FLAGS)
has an antisemitic strain, and it would probably be more marked if the subject were not so
obviously dangerous. It so happens that for some decades past Britain has had no
nationalist intelligentsia worth bothering about. But British nationalism, i. e. nationalism
of an intellectual kind, may revive, and probably will revive if Britain comes out of the
present war greatly weakened. The young intellectuals of 1950 may be as naively
patriotic as those of 1914. In that case the kind of antisemitism which flourished among
the anti-Dreyfusards in France, and which Chesterton and Belloc tried to import into this
country, might get a foothold.
I have no hard-and-fast theory about the origins of antisemitism. The two current
explanations, that it is due to economic causes, or on the other hand, that it is a legacy
from the Middle Ages, seem to me unsatisfactory, though I admit that if one combines
them they can be made to cover the facts. All I would say with confidence is that
antisemitism is part of the larger problem of nationalism, which has not yet been
seriously examined, and that the Jew is evidently a scapegoat, though for what he is a
scapegoat we do not yet know. In this essay I have relied almost entirely on my own
limited experience, and perhaps every one of my conclusions would be negatived by
other observers. The fact is that there are almost no data on this subject. But for what they
are worth I will summarise my opinions. Boiled down, they amount to this:
There is more antisemitism in England than we care to admit, and the war has
accentuated it, but it is not certain that it is on the increase if one thinks in terms of
decades rather than years.
It does not at present lead to open persecution, but it has the effect of making people
callous to the sufferings of Jews in other countries.
It is at bottom quite irrational and will not yield to argument.
The persecutions in Germany have caused much concealment of antisemitic feeling and
thus obscured the whole picture.
The subject needs serious investigation.
Only the last point is worth expanding. To study any subject scientifically one needs a
detached attitude, which is obviously harder when one’s own interests or emotions are
involved. Plenty of people who are quite capable of being objective about sea urchins,
say, or the square root of 2, become schizophrenic if they have to think about the sources
of their own income. What vitiates nearly all that is written about antisemitism is the
assumption in the writer’s mind that HE HIMSELF is immune to it. “Since I know that
antisemitism is irrational,” he argues, “it follows that I do not share it. ” He thus fails to
start his investigation in the one place where he could get hold of some reliable
evidence — that is, in his own mind.
It seems to me a safe assumption that the disease loosely called nationalism is now
almost universal. Antisemitism is only one manifestation of nationalism, and not
everyone will have the disease in that particular form. A Jew, for example, would not be
antisemitic: but then many Zionist Jews seem to me to be merely antisemites turned
upside-down, just as many Indians and Negroes display the normal colour prejudices in
an inverted form. The point is that something, some psychological vitamin, is lacking in
modem civilisation, and as a result we are all more or less subject to this lunacy of
believing that whole races or nations are mysteriously good or mysteriously evil. I defy
any modern intellectual to look closely and honestly into his own mind without coming
upon nationalistic loyalties and hatreds of one kind or another. It is the fact that he can
feel the emotional tug of such things, and yet see them dispassionately for what they are,
that gives him his status as an intellectual. It will be seen, therefore, that the starting point
for any investigation of antisemitism should not be “Why does this obviously irrational
belief appeal to other people? ” but “Why does antisemitism appeal TO ME? What is
there about it that I feel to be true? ” If one asks this question one at least discovers one’s
own rationalisations, and it may be possible to find out what lies beneath them.
Antisemitism should be investigated — and I will not say by antisemites, but at any rate by
people who know that they are not immune to that kind of emotion. When Hitler has
disappeared a real enquiry into this subject will be possible, and it would probably be best
to start not by debunking antisemitism, but by marshalling all the justifications for it that
can be found, in one’s own mind or anybody else’s. In that way one might get some clues
that would lead to its psychological roots. But that antisemitism will be definitively
CURED, without curing the larger disease of nationalism, I do not believe.
FREEDOM OF THE PARK (1945)
A few weeks ago, five people who were selling papers outside Hyde Park were arrested
by the police for obstruction. When taken before the magistartes, they were all found
guilty, four of them being bound over for six months and the other sentenced to forty
shillings fine or a month’s imprisonments. He preferred to serve his tenn.
The papers these people were selling were PEACE NEWS, FORWARD and FREEDOM,
besides other kindred literature. PEACE NEWS is the organ of the Peace Pledge Union,
FREEDOM (till recently called WAR COMMENTARY) is that of the Anarchists; as for
FORWARD, its politics defy definition, but at any rate it is violently Left. The
magistrate, in passing sentence, stated that he was not influenced by the nature of the
literature that was being sold; he was concerned merely with the fact of obstruction, and
that this offence had technically been committed.
This raises several important points. To begin with, how does the law stand on the
subject? As far as I can discover, selling newspapers in the street is technically an
obstruction, at any rate if you fail to move when the police tell you to. So it would be
legally possible for any policeman who felt like it to arrest any newsboy for selling the
EVENING NEWS. Obviously this doesn’t happen, so that the enforcement of the law
depends on the discretion of the police.
And what makes the police decide to arrest one man rather than another? However it may
be with the magistrate, I find it hard to believe that in this case the police were not
influenced by political considerations. It is a bit too much of a coincidence that they
should have picked on people selling just those papers.
If they had also arrested someone selling TRUTH, or the TABLET, or the SPECTATOR,
or even the CHURCH TIMES, their impartiality would be easier to believe in.
The British police are not like the continental GENDARMERIE or Gestapo, but I do not
think [sic] one maligns them in saying that, in the past, they have been unfriendly to Left-
wing activities. They have generally shown a tendency to side with those whom they
regarded as the defenders of private property. Till quite recently “red” and “illegal” were
almost synonymous, and it was always the seller of, say the DAILY WORKER, never the
seller of say, the DAILY TELEGRAPH, who was moved on and generally harassed.
Apparently it can be the same, at any rate at moments, under a Labour Government.
A thing I would like to know — it is a thing we hear very little about — is what changes
are made in the administrative personnel when there has been a change of government. .
Does a police officer who has a vague notion that “Socialism” means something against
the law carry on just the same when the government itself is Socialist?
When a Labour government takes over, I wonder what happens to Scotland Yard Special
Branch? To Military Intelligence? We are not told, but such symptoms as there are do not
suggest that any very extensive shuffling is going on.
However, the main point of this episode is that the sellers of newspapers and pamphlets
should be interfered with at all. Which particular minority is singled out — whether
Pacifists, Communists, Anarchists, Jehovah’s Witness of the Legion of Christian
Reformers who recently declared Hitler to be Jesus Christ — is a secondary matter. It is of
symptomatic importance that these people should have been arrested at that particular
spot. You are not allowed to sell literature inside Hyde Park, but for many years past it
has been usual for the paper-sellers to station themselves outside the gates and distribute
literature connected with the open air meetings a hundred yards away. Every kind of
publication has been sold there without interference.
