Research,Revisionists and the Radical Right

Introduction

The early 1990s were exciting times for students of right-wing movements in America. Social historians were shaping a new historiographical focus, revisiting the social foundations of movements such as the 1920s Ku Klux Klan through detailed local studies. The findings produced began seriously to undermine ‘traditional’ interpretations that were fixed upon social pathology and which had a tendency to portray ‘extremists’ as individuals helplessly susceptible to irrational outbursts of aberrant extremism. ¹ In contrast, the revisionist turn instead emphasised the understandable and often highly localised concerns that motivated Klansmen. The ranks of such movements were composed predominantly not of racist bigots but rather ‘average citizens’ (Lay, 1994, pp. 668–669). These detailed local studies have been credited not only with providing a more nuanced picture of what drives individuals toward the political fringe but also with altering the broader historiographical landscape (Moore, 1996, p. 555).

A little over a decade later students of extreme right ² parties (ERPs) on the European continent began to urge political scientists to resist socio-economic determinism in favour of an actor-orientated approach (e.g. Mudde, 2007). Such calls were part of a general acknowledgement that the role of agency, specifically the extreme right party and party actors, needed to be placed at the centre of research. At the same time, it was argued that greater attention should be paid not solely to ‘supply-side’ factors and the parties themselves but also approaches that complement the traditional macro-level focus with detailed work at the micro and meso level of analysis (Eatwell, 2000). Perhaps, like those American scholars above, the findings produced from such work may stand in marked contrast to extant assumptions in the literature.

Implicit in this turn toward ‘internalist’ approaches (Goodwin, 2006) is a general acknowledgement that while we know a great deal about who votes for extreme right parties, we know significantly less about who joins and becomes active in this party type. ³ Scholars in the French case (Ivaldi, 1996, p. 340; Orfali, 1990) have also highlighted the absence of empirical studies focused on grass-roots members, while more recent contributors in Belgium compare the ‘extensive research’ on electoral supporters to the ‘extremely scarce’ data on active participants (de Witte, 2006, p. 127). With a few exceptions, ⁴ there is a distinct lack of empirical data available on the internal ‘life’ of right-extremist parties (Mudde, 2007).

By no means is this observation especially original. Early studies focused upon the emergence of the ‘third wave’ of ERPs (von Beyme, 1988) criticised the way in which scholars adopted a ‘hurried approach’ to their research topic, as opposed to in-depth systematic analysis (Billig, 1978, p. 94). As far back as the 1960s, American scholars likewise noted the scarcity of empirical investigation into members of ‘controversial organisations’ such as the John Birch Society (Grupp, 1969, p. 103). Slightly later, social historians similarly observed a tendency among scholars to eschew research projects about movements that appear either as ‘bastions of a crumbling status quo’ or as the domain of ‘puritanical, pathological yahoos’ (Kazin, 1992, p. 136). More generally, social movement theorists have criticised the jettisoning of the personal dimension of agency in movement studies (Flacks, 2005, p. 10; also Anheier, 2003; Benford, 1997, p. 413).

The utility of examining what attracts individuals to right-wing extremism is twofold. First, focusing upon actors may shed light upon the dynamics of activism more generally (Herrera, 1999, p. 239), as well as the nature of the respective political movement (Eldersveld, 1983, p. 47). Second, if a significant gap in the existing literature concerns our knowledge of how these parties formulate (and implement) strategic calculations and actions in response to a variety of factors (i.e. institutional, issues, party competition, etc.), then it makes sense to research the actors involved in these decisions. Researching extreme right actors on an empirical basis produces findings which challenge two existing assumptions: the first concerns the difficulties commonly associated with gaining access to these individuals; the second relates to traditional stereotypes of extreme right actors. These arguments draw upon both recent empirical studies as well as my own doctoral research which involved interviewing activists at various strata of the British National party (BNP). ⁵

Getting inside the black box

Beginning with the first, if actor-orientated studies and a local-level focus hold the potential to strengthen our understanding of the movement, the immediate question which presents itself concerns how best to ‘get inside the black box’ of extreme right parties. The theoretical proposition that political parties typically have ‘two faces’ is well established in party research (e.g. Charlot, 1989). This is especially true in the case of extremist groups which present a challenge to the social scientist as a result of there being ‘two levels of reality’: on one hand, the publicly disseminated image and, on the other, the internal secret reality (Blee, 1991, p. 4; also Almond, 1954).

In an effort to sidestep this complexity, scholars often rely extensively upon primary literature (e.g. Mudde, 2000). Yet in terms of providing an accurate picture of internal life the method is inadequate. Over 40 years ago party theorists stressed the inability of this approach to provide anything more than a ‘partial idea’ of internal life, ‘if indeed they describe reality at all’ (Duverger, 1964, p. xviii). Also, party actors themselves highlight how party statutes and official discourse ‘have nothing to do with content but everything to do with tactics’ (Dewinter, 2004). For activists in the BNP, party ideology is perceived as ‘standing above’ official rhetoric and policy (Golding, 2001). Thus serious questions exist over the capacity of primary literature to shed light on a party's latent ideology and objective reality (Blee, 1993, p. 596; Carter, 2005, p. 66; Mudde, 2000, p. 21). An additional (though oft-neglected) difficulty associated with this method is the way in which it often ignores completely the local dimension. For example, local BNP organisers explained how the exploitation of local issues is often central to explaining the mobilisation of support: while in Keighley it was the alleged ‘grooming’ of white girls by Asian men, in Barking and Dagenham it was strains on the local housing market and attempts to exploit a cultural identity specific to East London. ⁶ As noted (Tarchi, 2003, pp. 137–138), primary literature forces the focus of investigation toward elite level. It might also be hypothesised that the growing interest in the use of cyber-activism by extremist movements will further perpetuate the avoidance of contact with ‘real-life’ activists (e.g. Berbrier, 1998; Tateo, 2005; Weeber and Rodeheaver, 2003). The central point in this respect is that documentary sources, when set against qualitative interviews with actors, are unable to shed light upon the complexities of extreme right party ‘life’: the political experiences and beliefs of actors, the latent ideology and the internal movement culture (see Blee, 1993, p. 599).

Ubiquitous in the literature are references to the secretive nature of individuals active in ‘racist’ movements who often regard research as a task undertaken on behalf of ‘the establishment’ with a ‘sinister’ purpose (Moyser and Wagstaffe, 1987, pp. 185–186; also Blee, 1993, p. 596; Carter, 2005, pp. 8, 85–86; Norris, 2005, pp. 30–31). While Michael Billig (1978, p. 94) was correct to warn against minimising the difficulties associated with research into right-wing extremism, aside from several outright rejections the task of engaging with activists was surprisingly straightforward. Participants were quite open to interviews and, in some instances, provided primary literature and electoral data from their local wards. They also elaborated extensively upon their life experiences, their reasons for joining and views of societal change with rare hesitation. With a sample of 26 activists, over half agreed to a second interview (several were interviewed three times). The fact that so many consented to additional interviews is arguably testament to both their comfortableness with interview settings as well as their willingness to participate in social scientific research. Nor is this observation unique to the study in question (Klandermans and Mayer, 2006b, p. 269).

From the outset snowballing sampling techniques were employed. Unlike comparable studies in larger extreme right movements (Ivaldi, 1996) membership files were not made available. When the researcher is dealing with well-networked individuals in settings where a direct approach is inadvisable the strength of snowballing becomes especially salient (Bernard, 1988, p. 98). The study was fixed upon qualitative in-depth semi-structured interviews, with a sample of 26 activists located throughout England and Wales. The preference for qualitative as opposed to quantitative methods resulted from a desire to understand the behaviour of individuals in their natural setting and from their own viewpoint (Nardi, 2003, p. 15). Also, it is difficult to understand how we might gain a rich understanding of what attracts individuals to extremist movements by reducing interviewees to units of analysis and summary scores, reducing their motives to a selection of predetermined choices (see Mishler, 1986, p. 26). Rarely is the standardised method able to move beyond providing a mere ‘snapshot’ of a movement or ‘static language’ from its participants (Billig, 1978, pp. 94, 234).

The ‘Normality of Extremism’ ⁷

Second, empirical studies which have engaged with activists often challenge extant assumptions concerning the profiles and motive of participants. What emerged from this research was not a picture of ignorant, marginalised and poorly educated individuals driven primarily by irrational impulses but rather relatively ‘normal’ people concerned foremost with perceived threats to an established and traditional ‘way of life’. The majority were well integrated into their local communities, expressed a desire to uphold democratic institutions and to improve the provision of public services and distribution of regeneration funding at local level. Motivated not by anti-Semitism, a belief in the tenets of Nazism or a yearning for a strong and charismatic leader, rather activists talked of the perceived unfair distribution of local (scarce) resources and inter-group competition over cultural values, all of which can be summarised as a perceived sense of threat from ethnic minority groups to a traditional way of life and the apparent inefficacy of mainstream parties to respond to such concerns. Nor should these findings be viewed in isolation. One recent study similarly concludes: ‘The first impression one gets is at odds with the picture of marginality, pathology and violence’ (Klandermans and Mayer, 2006b, p. 269), as was prevalent in earlier accounts (Adorno et al., 1950; Billig, 1978). Based on interviews with 150 activists in five different countries, Bert Klandermans and Nonna Mayer observe how interviewees appeared as ‘perfectly normal people, socially integrated, connected in one way or another to mainstream groups and ideas’ (Klandermans and Mayer, 2006b, p. 269). Where individuals were isolated or marginalised in their local communities or political arenas, it was rather a result of their activism as opposed to the cause. ⁸

Expressing a deep sense of estrangement from the political system at national and local level, activism in the British National party represented foremost an opportunity to enact change in their local environment. As argued by Kathleen Blee (1993, p. 605; also Blee, 1996), though it might well be comforting if the researcher could find little commonality of thought or experience with those active in ‘far right’ political activity, both her and my own findings suggest a different reality. In this case, the ranks of the BNP are filled less with a pathological fringe than with ‘ordinary women and men’ who participate in the movement in an attempt to guard themselves against those perceived as threatening or different in some way.

By no means is this to neglect the presence of xenophobia and racist discourse, as espoused by interviewees. Nor is it to discount the possibility that initial grievances are embellished by elites which seek to promote belief in a more radical world-view. Rather, findings point toward the salience of Cas Mudde's (2007) call to shift from a ‘normal pathology’ to ‘pathological normalcy’ view of the extreme right. While the ‘traditional’ approach emphasises the pathological nature of right-wing extremism and the irrational behaviour of its participants, the empirical basis underlying this approach is thin at best. Instead of viewing contemporary extreme right parties and their actors as entities fundamentally alien to the central tenets of liberal democracy, rather – through a ‘normal pathology’ approach – we should accept them as radicalised versions of ideas often found in the mainstream political arena. From this perspective the central question guiding academic research from here on (at least for Mudde) should concern not why so many people hold attitudes supportive of the extreme right, but rather why people are not voting for the extreme right (based on the notion that there will always exist a significant proportion of citizens in Western liberal democracies willing to support extreme right parties). Recent research in Britain has challenged the view that support for the extreme right is confined to the ‘lunatic’ fringe, with findings indicating that there exists significant potential support for ‘far right’ parties (e.g. Margetts, John and Weir, 2004). The focus thus moves more toward ‘supply-side’ variables, not least how party actors seek to construct legitimacy and electoral credibility and how strategic appeals and ‘winning formulas’ are managed.

Concluding remarks

Recent research has increasingly challenged two assumptions that are frequently implicit in studies of the extreme right: first, that extreme right parties and their actors are ‘out of bounds’ for the empirical researcher; second, that irrationality, poor education, anomie or a combination of such traits are the hallmarks of contemporary activists. ⁹ Furthermore, future studies would do well to consult the literature on American-based ‘pariah’ movements which are often conspicuously absent in work focused upon Western Europe. As stated at the outset, detailed empirical research at neighbourhood level may well produce findings markedly at odds with extant theorising at macro level. Rather than maintain the ‘obsessional fascination’ with charismatic leaders (Andrews, 1991, p. 19), the issue of why average citizens become susceptible to extremist mobilisation and activism at local level warrants further examination.