Show Hide image

Laurie Penny on Rush Limbaugh: a vicious clown

When somebody is paid to say the worst possible thing, it allows someone else to say the next worst.

Before I arrived in the United States, I thought that Rush Limbaugh was a special American legend, like the headless horseman, or meritocracy.

Before this week, I thought the real Rush Limbaugh -- bile-spitting Conservative radio wingnut, professional despiser of women, workers and minorities and peddler of frothing crypto-fascist hatespeech to millions of listeners -- had long ago imploded under the pressure of his own hot air.

I thought of Limbaugh as a fairytale, the sort that liberal parents use to frighten their children into eating up all their alfalfa. It turns out that the beast is alive and embarrassing Republicans everywhere by saying what they really think about women in plain, paranoid English.

This week, Limbaugh launched a four-day attack on Georgetown law student Sandra Fluke, who testified before Congress to the effect that all Americans should have the right to affordable birth control, even if their bosses object to it on religious grounds.

Limbaugh called her a slut and a prostitute and wondered aloud how she could walk after all the sex she must be having.

The torrent of misogynist abuse was vile enough that advertisers scrambled to pull funding from Limbaugh's show, convinced by many of the millions of Americans who believe that no woman should be ashamed of wanting to live in the 21st century that the ultra-right pundit had finally "gone too far".

Too far, however is where Limbaugh is paid to go -- he is a cartoon monster, and that's precisely what makes him so dangerous. The trouble with cartoon monsters is that noone quite believes they're real.

Pundits as viciously hysterical as Rush Limbaugh -- and I do mean literally hysterical, "womb-crazy", driven spitting nuts by the notion of women's icky, sticky bodies becoming a known and open part of the political process -- pundits like that have only one real political function. They are decoys. they make a loud noise and a dirty flash and draw our eyes slightly to the right of where the real attack is coming from.

This week, as American right-wingers rushed to disavow the tone of Limbaugh's attack, they have barely been pulled up for backing up its substance. Commentators like Monica Charen got clean away with saying that Limbaugh's "choice of words was crude but that I certainly understood and sympathized with the point he was making."

The left has been drawn into defending the personal attack on Fluke's reputation -- and not the political attack on millions of American women in the anti-contraceptive, anti-sex backlash which is infecting public discourse on both sides of the Atlantic.

When somebody is paid to say the worst possible thing, it allows someone else to say the next worst thing and sound sane.

That's the real danger here, for women and for everyone else who believes in real sexual equality. In an apology so half-arsed it needed a special chair made for it at the misogyny table, Limbaugh said that he had not meant "a personal attack" on Ms Fluke, but noted that " I personally do not agree that American citizens should pay for these social activities."

By "social activities", he means women having sex without fear of pregnancy, and by "pay for", he means "allow to continue without a government crackdown".

Limbaugh's essential point -- that women and girls who want the right to affordable contraception are prostitutes, that women who use contraception are sluts who should be ashamed of themselves -- remains largely unchallenged.

Americans call this a "war on women", but only one side appears to be putting up a fight.

 

Laurie Penny is a contributing editor to the New Statesman. She is the author of five books, most recently Unspeakable Things.

Getty
Show Hide image

What “Dutch Justin Trudeau” Jesse Klaver can teach the British left

The young Dutch politician is organised, photogenic - and optimistic. 

The first surprising thing about Jesse Klaver, is how in one night he overtook the established left to become the leader of the biggest left-wing party in the Netherlands. The second is that few in the UK’s green and alternative left scene seem to have previously heard of him (When I phoned round to ask the response was a combination of “Not very much”, “Only what I read in the headlines", “I’m really not the best person to ask.”)

With floppy black curls and a sideways smile, international election spectators quickly dubbed their progressive hero “the Dutch Justin Trudeau”. Asked about the comparison with the photogenic Canadian Prime Minister, the 30-year-old Klaver quipped: “I’m very jealous of Trudeau’s muscles.”

But when it comes to the heavy lifting of party politics, Klaver has already revealed a hidden strength. The party he leads, GroenLinks (GreenLeft), was formidable in the 1990s and mid noughties, but spent the rest of the decade on the ropes. (One such low point was the resignation of GreenLeft politician Wijnand Duyvendak in 2008, after it emerged he had burgled the Ministry of Economic Affairs in 1985 to steal documents on nuclear power).

Amid this political gloom, Klaver was a rare rising star. In 2009, at just 23, he was leading a trade unionist youth organisation. The following year, he stood for election to the House of Representatives as a GreenLeft candidate and won. There, his attacks on bank bonus culture led one journalist to dismiss him as “snot”.

Within two years, though, Klaver would earn a new nickname – the Jessiah. After becoming leader of the GreenLeft in 2015, he looked westward across the Atlantic at the groundbreaking electoral tactics of Barack Obama, and hired the services of the company founded by the former US President’s digital strategist, Blue State Digital. His pledges include investing in renewable energy, sustainable agriculture and an embrace of international co-operation. 

The party soon was holding meet ups, attracting donations and recruiting new members – roughly 27 per cent of the party joined under Klaver’s leadership. His Facebook page has 110,256 Likes.

In embracing these tactics, of course, Klaver is not alone among Europeans on the left. More than 800,000 people like Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn’s page, while his grassroots group Momentum has more than 150 local groups. Unfortunately for Corbyn, this impressive 21st century organising has not delivered electorally (ask the Labour candidates in Copeland and Richmond Park).

The obvious difference between Klaver and the beleaguered Labour leader is the electoral system. Proportional representation allows smaller parties far greater clout in parliament, not to mention the flexibility to remake themselves. Indeed, Klaver's parliamentary haul was bittersweet for the left as a whole, as the Dutch Labour party had a catastrophic night. (In First Past The Post Canada, Trudeau heads up the established Liberal party).

But there is something more. In Scotland, where there is a form of proportional representation, the “green left” vote is split between a pro-independence Green party, the Scottish National Party, and a beaten down Labour party. In England, Labour is desperately trying to straddle the Leave and Remain camps after the EU referendum.

Klaver, on the other hand, has managed to roll up his shirt sleeves and deliver a credible, positive message without pandering to the far-right populist instincts embodied by Geert Wilders. A millennial whose ancestry includes Moroccan and Indonesian descent, he is unashamed about his embrace of the 21st century at a time when the older generations are doggedly nostalgic.

Now, as Dutch parties enter talks to form a government, he could be in reach of real power. Progressives on this side of the Channel may still be catching up with him but, as with Trudeau, in the absence of a UK figurehead, he will no doubt soon command a faithful British following. 

Julia Rampen is the editor of The Staggers, The New Statesman's online rolling politics blog. She was previously deputy editor at Mirror Money Online and has worked as a financial journalist for several trade magazines.