The smoke of the dignity of man
We have seen Anders Carlberg's support for nationalism, mobilisation of parents, trust in military service, lodging of nazis, masculinity bullshit - everybody know what a swine he is.
We have seen a film called "Plenty of boys but few men", made by post-leftist aunt Marianne Ahrne and the rigid Jungian Rigmor Robert (by the way the leader of Carlbergs masculinity therapy). In this film is constructed a Jungian typology of correct and incorrect types of men. The true men (such as elite soldiers and policemen) have left the feminine sphere behind and learnt positive violence. Otherwise the boys become either violinists or philosophers, or desperate nervous wrecks that kill people in restaurant queues.
We have seen the first tracks of the campaign "Male 2000" aiming to create a menīs movement as big as the womenīs movement. Among the leading figures we find for example ex-party leader of right-populist ex-party New Democracy Ian Wachtmeister and ex-manager of ABB Lars Bern, which says enough.
All these people have reached the conclusion that the cause of violence in the streets and everything else that feels troublesome in todays society, is the lack of transfering of good old swedish norms between men (because of the dissolution of nuclear family, the slimming of the military, immigration and the following mixing of cultures, and of what they regard as a femininisation and psychologisation within school, social security system and other institutions). An important part of the recipe they recommend goes under the name of good violence, that violence which is based on overcoming oneself with will-power and put into the service of society.
All this is nothing but the neo-conservative safeguarding of classic bourgeoise ideology; the customary anti-feminism, nationalism, fear of disorder and insurrection. It has only been furnished with inciting cosmetics in the form of opportunistic Jungian speculations and the awkward dreams of male omnipotence of that muddle-head Robert Bly, and then arrayed it all in a postmodernly media-adjusted form.
Itīs all just the nostalgic thought muddle of a bunch of embittered ex-s, and of course we do not give the least for their stupid norms and values, their pitiful "identities" and perverse careers. We spit at the musty construction they call masculinity, which cannot but crack and fall apart in the convulsions of the thorough adventure of flesh and spirit: that of becoming human. It will require a good deal of burning bridges, a good deal of violence against personality (that power-intoxicated market-adapted jumping jack), a mighty desire for revolt (the old and ever new value of total responsibility), in order to face the vastness of human insufficience and passion and become capable of genuine communication and sociality, based on real social needs and not on submission and prestige. The path of treason lies before us.
Stora Saltet's editors, november 1995
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