The Intellectual Temptation: Dangerous Ideas in Politics

© 2013 by Frits Bolkestein. All rights reserved.

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Published by AuthorHouse 03/25/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-0901-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-1559-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-0900-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013901134

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Table of Contents

Preface

Introduction

PART I

The Eighteenth Century

Chapter 1: Three models and two intellectuals – : Fashionable ideas in the 18th century

Classicism

Enlightenment

Romanticism, particularly in Germany

Rousseau

Mandeville

Chapter 2: The Theater

Sturm und Drang

The Robbers

Kabale und Liebe

Figaro

Chapter 3: German idealism is born

Hamann

Herder

Kant and his legacy

PART II

The Nineteenth Century

Chapter 4: German idealism enters politics

Fichte’s influence

Nationalism

The political effects of German idealism

The German bourgeoisie

Conclusion

Chapter 5: The Russian intelligentsia

Slavophiles

The intelligentsia

After 1848

Alexander Herzen

Ivan Turgenev

Nicolai Chernyshevsky

Dostoyevsky

Chapter 6: The Austro-Hungarian : monarchy and its intellectuals

Three movements that took down the Empire

Abolition of the robot

Fostering national languages

The precarious place of Jews

Nostalgia for the lost Empire?

Chapter 7: The philosophy of the Will

Schopenhauer

Nietzsche

Nietzsche and the Nazis

Bergson and irrationalism

Sorel and the crisis in Marxist ideology

Chapter 8: Fin de siècle

The Conservative Revolution in Germany

The myth of purity

The Dreyfus Affair

The hatred of the bourgeoisie

Futurism and the aesthetic of violence

PART III

The Twentieth Century

Chapter 9: To end all wars: : The beginnings of the First World War

Austria

Germany

German intellectuals

Martin Buber

France

Three concepts of war

The death of the aristocratic worldview

Chapter 10: Fascism

Mussolini

Chapter 11: National Socialism

The Inheritance

Ernst Jünger

The rise of National Socialism

Intellectuals and National Socialism

Chapter 12: Communism

The Black Book of Communism

The fellow travelers as model intellectuals

The World Council of Churches

Chapter 13: The Counterculture

The prehistory of counterculture

The bourgeoisie and the dialectic of history

The arts fall victim to internal conflict

Counterculture

Postmodernism

Where do we go from here?

PART IV

Present

Chapter 14: The European Union

L’ Europe et les Intellectuels

The European Union

The European Commission

The Monetary Union

Foreign Policy

Enlargement

Reality strikes back

The Treaty of Lisbon

The future of the EU

Chapter 15: Look back in anger – : Development aid in Africa

Recent criticisms of aid

Aid’s spotted history

What should be done?

A gigantic experiment

Intellectuals assist

Governance not aid

Culture counts

Aiding trade

Chapter 16: 1968 - Sturm und Drang Revisited?

International concerns

Education

Feminism

The rule of law

Endings

Chapter 17: Multiculturalism

Chapter 18: Intellectuals and capitalism

France

The Sokal Affair

Capitalism

Intellectuals and capitalism

Conclusion

Chapter 19: The Angel and the Beast - : On the proper limits of government

Conclusion: Cultural masochism & the liberal death wish

Author biography

Endnotes

Praise for The Intellectual Temptation

"The fruit of enormous practical experience, wide reading and deep reflection, Frits Bolkestein gives us a splendidly lucid tour d’horizon of the origins and consequences of bad philosophical ideas. I think many intellectuals will blush as they read it."

- Theodore Dalrymple

Bravo to Frits Bolkestein. He writes as a politician critiquing intellectuals, but he is also himself an intellectual of a high caliber. Other perhaps than the late Daniel Patrick Moynihan, it is difficult to think of an American holding high office in modern times who has displayed anything like Bolkestein’s erudition. Thus, Bolkestein brings rare if not unique qualifications to this examination of the impact of intellectuals on politics. It makes for an absorbing (and beautifully written) study that deserves a very wide audience.

- Joshua Muravchik, Fellow, the Johns Hopkins University School of Advanced International Studies

"In The Intellectual Temptation Frits Bolkestein combines the sophistication of a lifetime in domestic and international politics with that shrewdness of the native comfortable with his fellow citizens, regardless of class or rank. In this important book, Bolkestein shows, he does not merely tell. He exposes today’s fashionable yet dangerous ideas. His timely advice is to apply rational thought in the political realm, so that policy propositions are accepted on the basis of their merits, which might be tested, verified and accepted or rejected. Bolkestein does a great service not only to the Netherlands and Europe but indeed to the whole of Western civilization."

- Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Frits Bolkestein is the pre-eminent liberal statesman of the Netherlands – statesman, rather than politician, because his writings have been as influential as his public engagements. A vision of individual liberty – in political, cultural and economic life – has always motivated Bolkestein. Here is an erudite account of where that vision comes from, why some ideologues set themselves against it, and how our contemporaries have ceased to treasure it.

- Christopher Caldwell

Preface

When I completed my graduate studies in 1959 the Cold War was in

full swing. Observing the relation between ideas and politics, I thought

of writing a thesis on the anti-democratic intellectual. Instead I went

to Mombasa to sell oil, which was probably a good choice.

Nevertheless, the subject stayed with me and it broadened into intellectuals and politics. Not the influence of intellectuals upon other intellectuals, for that is the history of ideas. Instead, what began to interest me was the influence of intellectuals upon actual politics – politics at street level, as it were. In particular, I became concerned with two defining event of the twentieth century: first the rise and fall of totalitarian dictatorship and, later, the gestation of the European Union. That is what this book is about. I have spent most of my career in dealing with practical affairs. It is only since I resigned from the European Commission in November 2004 that I have found time to study the matter at hand.

This book concerns contemporary politics. But to understand how we got here, I have also looked back into the history of modern Europe to a number of formative episodes.

It consists of four parts. The first three parts are concerned with the eighteenth, the nineteenth and the twentieth centuries. The fourth part deals with six subjects of current importance: the European Union, development aid, multiculturalism, intellectuals and capitalism, the proper role of government and, lastly, cultural masochism and the Liberal Death Wish. It is my intention here to share the defense and endorsement of the central principles of Modernity against a variety of forms of irrationalism, such as Romanticism, postmodernism, vitalism and religious fundamentalism.

In writing this book I have benefited greatly from discussions I have had with a number of persons who were interested in what I was doing. I must thank them profusely. They are Arend-Jan Boekes-

tijn, Diederik Boomsma, Maarten Brands, Christopher Caldwell, Paul Cliteur, Derk-Jan Eppink, Paul Everard, Meindert Fennema, John Gillingham, Caroline van der Graaf, Arnold Heumakers, Ayaan Hirsi Ali, Jeroen van Hoven, Andreas Kinneging, Hans Kribbe, Hans Labohm, Joshua Livestro, Joshua Muravchik, W.H. Roobol, Amnon Rubinstein, and my editor Jonathan Price, who peeled off a great deal of time during the summer to rid the text of many infelicities. I must also warmly thank the Leiden University and the Technical University of Delft for allowing me to lecture on this subject between 2005-9.

I want to express my sincere gratitude to the Foundation for Agnosticism and Meritocracy for its financial support, which has made this edition possible.

Frits Bolkestein

Amsterdam

January 2013

Introduction

Do ideas matter? Of course they do. Right or wrong, dangerous or

tame, they matter. The British economist John Maynard Keynes warn-

ed against underrating the power of ideas, especially those descen-

ding from economists and political philosophers. Indeed, he said, the world is ruled by little else.¹ His own economic theory is a case in

point. Keynes went on to say: Practical men among whom, it should

be mentioned, he would include politicians, who believe themselves to be quite exempt from any intellectual influences, are usually the slave of some defunct economist. Keynes has for a long time been defunct, with his influence waning – particularly amongst economists. Yet this did not stop politicians from pump priming the economy in 2008, in the spirit of Keynes, when the credit crisis hit. But was Keynes right, not about the economy but about ideas? Is the world run by little else?

If we limit ourselves to politics, the answer is yes. One could men-

tion a few famous historic instances, but famous examples could be the exception to the rule, rather than proving it. Fortunately, the force of ideas in politics is also ever-present in the mundane. I have been a student of ideas as they are found both in books and in the world. Let me therefore begin with a few anecdotes from my political career, where I served both nationally (as a Dutch parliamentarian, minister and party leader) and internationally (as a European commissioner).

My first venture into politics of any kind was as a student. In the autumn of 1956, I visited Prague. My purpose was to observe the Congress of the International Union of Students, which was commu-

nist-run. The Hungarian revolt had not yet happened. I was due short-

ly to become president of the Amsterdam Student Body. In the enormous hall where the congress took place there sat row upon row of student representatives. In speech after speech, we were inundated with numbers: the number of schools built in Outer Mongolia, of engineers trained in the Ukraine, of Polish farmers bringing in a record harvest, and so on. Amidst the red jingoism there was no shortage of

denunciations of Western colonialism. After each speech applause poured over the room as if a tap had been opened. I recognized what was taking place, as the Soviet Union was attempting to use students as an intellectual weapon against the West.

This began to irk me, so I asked for the floor. I was the first non-

communist to speak. I began with a few polite things and then remarked that it was all very well to criticize Western colonialism – 

which was indeed a bad thing – but that it should not be forgotten that Poland was colonized by Soviet Russia. I walked back to my seat through what had become as silent as a funeral wake. The next day a Polish delegation visited me and demanded an apology, which I refused. I was then invited to visit Poland the next year, which I did.

At the beginning of 1978, I became a Member of Parliament in The Netherlands and was quickly made spokesman of my party on foreign affairs. That meant, among other things, a confrontation on the stationing of cruise missiles. They were intended by NATO as a deterrent to the SS-20 missiles deployed by Soviet Russia. When as Minister for Foreign Trade I later met Werner Krolikovski, first Vice Prime Minister of the German Democratic Republic in Berlin, I said: These SS-20s constitute a political intimidation by military means, which NATO cannot possibly leave unanswered. It was not easy to convince the Dutch Labour Party and assorted leftist action groups of this.² They seemed to think that one could just negotiate the SS-20s away, having forgotten the Roman saying: "Si vis pacem para bellum / whoever wants peace should prepare for war. The so-called critical generation" proved itself to be anything but critical and they had a number of quixotic ideas not only about foreign policy but also about the nature of the Soviet Union. The ruling idea was that people – including the Russians – were basically good.³

In 1990 I became leader of the Dutch Liberal Party, which was liberal in the sense of the classical liberals.⁴ Up to that point I had occupied myself with economic and foreign affairs. Now I had to divide my attention to include domestic affairs. A policy was needed to deal with the increasing number of non-Western immigrants, who came mostly from Morocco and Turkey, but also from Somalia, Syria, Iraq, and many from former Dutch colonies. To my amazement, the contemporary policy was epitomized by the phrase integration while retaining cultural identity. This was a contradiction in terms and betrayed little knowledge of the world. At the very least, I thought, immigrants should conform to the essential values of Dutch society (secular state, individual rights, the rule of law and equality before the law, and acquisition of the Dutch language). This opinion was fought tooth and nail by the cartel of experts that had dominated the debate until then. They marched under banners bearing the catchphrase multiculturalism. The contours of this idea were never made clear to me. However, it did not include anything that could be called political or social integration. Especially when the word integration was used by them, it meant nothing close to its dictionary definition. Here the ruling idea was The Good Stranger, who was always better than the citizen. Romanticizing these immigrants was easy, as most came from places that would have been described by our ancestors as primitive. So the idea of the essential goodness of man, which could only be spoiled by civilization, reigned supreme. Rousseau made another appearance in our part of the world.

Goethe is supposed to have said: An idea whose time has come, has an irresistible force (eine unüberwindliche Kraft). The political power that these ideas wield is immense. The theory of Keynes mentioned above is an example. But it might be said that while ideas are important and powerful they are not the full story. There are also interests. Consider the Uganda Railway which was built by the United Kingdom to protect the upper reaches of the Nile so that no non-British power could control the Suez Canal. This was key to controlling the colony of India. Britain’s consul in Cairo, Sir Evelyn Baring, wrote: Whatever power holds the Upper Nile Valley must, by mere force of its geographical situation, dominate Egypt.⁵ The debate on the Uganda Railway lasted in the House of Commons for almost three years. It was important, for it concerned foreign policy, colonialism and commerce: the interests of the British Empire.

But these interests existed for a reason and that reason was bound up in ideas about who should rule whom and why, as well as how this rule should be exercised. As was asked in the Commons at the time, By what right did Britain assert mastery over thousands of unlettered tribesmen?⁶ If the answer to this failed to satisfy, then the foreign policy that included a Uganda Railway and also India would lack a foundation – and could even be considered immoral – no matter what interests lie there. Any number of ideas stands behind most of what happens politically, socially and economically. Interests, in the end, cannot stand alone; they must be supported by ideas. Tremendous power then rests upon these. Of course, that is not quite what Keynes meant, but it remains true.

How do ideas enter politics?

This book is concerned with ideas which relate to the world or a part of it and, in particular, to society – ideas with a bearing on politics. They are abstract, value-laden or moralizing and betray a worldview. Examples are social justice, equality, freedom, multiculturalism, racism and diversity. Such concepts may be used to formulate an ideology, that is, a system of ideas to mobilize people for action.

That ideas are important to politics is not in itself problematic. It would be hard to imagine politics without ideas, and it is not something which I would find desirable. Nor is the problem that ideology sometimes drives political action. Again it would be difficult to think of politics without some sort of ideology. It is rather the origin of many – perhaps most – modern political ideas in the minds of intellectuals. The problem has to do with the nature of intellectuals and consequently the type of ideas that they are attracted to, both of which I will say more about below.

Additionally, the oblique relation between truly original thinkers and day-to-day politics has a corrupting influence on even the best ideas. One should be aware of the chief mechanism which allows the ideas of first-rate thinkers to descend to street level, where they exert power over the real world. Usually this conveyor belt of intellectuals consists of second or even third-rate thinkers: the fellow travelers, epigones and popularizes – in short, the Lumpenintelligenz – who use and often abuse the ideas of their intellectual masters, frequently to their own advantage and sometimes to the detriment of many others. These second-hand dealers in ideas, as Arthur Seldon has called them, create the intellectual environment in which politicians have to work⁷. A few political thinkers, however, are truly original and we shall meet some of them in what follows. For now it is important to ask: Who is an intellectual?

Intellectuals

The equivalent of the term intellectual was first recorded in Russia in 1861. It soon found itself employed alongside other words ascribed to thinkers, such as "intelligentsia" and intelligent.⁸ In late nineteenth century France, on the occasion of the Dreyfus Affair, intellectuals were for the first time spoken of as a class or interest group in society. This was after they appeared as one side in a political row which nearly split the nation from top to bottom.⁹

Of course, there were intellectuals before we had common terms for them. Alexis de Tocqueville’s (1805-59) "hommes de lettres, and the hônnetes hommes" of the Parisian salons, look suspiciously like many pre-

sent-day intellectuals. In the first chapter of the third book of his L’an-

cien régime et la revolution (1856), the master sociologist tells us much of these men of letters: General and abstract ideas had become their daily conversation and they lacked interest in what existed in order to dream of what could be. Everywhere the same distrust of existing facts, the same trust in theory. He goes on to say that since "[n]o

experience tempered their passions, their temptation was toward violence. It seemed as if one should either suffer everything or des-

troy everything in the constitution of the country." He concludes by

saying it was a terrible spectacle, noting that the same things that have often given rise to beautiful books may lead to great revolutions. Part of his last words are the warning what is a quality in a writer is often a vice in a statesman.

Tocqueville’s analysis should be seen against the background of the Parisian salons. In his book, La faute à Rousseau, the French histo-

rian Jacques Julliard says, "It all started with the salon."¹⁰ This social institution was inaugurated by the Marquise de Rambouillet in the seven-

teenth century. She was the first to let men of letters and members of the aristocracy – as well as the sexes – mingle on an equal footing. In her view class was less important than ability. From this beginning, the salons, where the form of sociability was centred on the art of conversation became the brilliant schools of civilisation.¹¹ Or at least that has been a dominant perception of them by their advocates and imitators.

In the salons, among the hônnetes hommes, language took on a promi-

nent role. The ideal and most polite form was what went "straight to the essence [ . . . ] to the detriment of the pittoresque, the des-

criptive and the particular."¹² By restricting themselves to simple and general words, language gained clarity. The abstraction of language led,

in turn, to the abstraction of thought. And a form of reasoning emerged that neglected concrete details to the profit of general principles. (Curiously enough, this also resulted from German ide-

alist philosophy, as I shall describe below.) All this came at the expense

of the connection between language and the world. What Tocqueville and Julliard describe was common among intellectuals in the century leading up to the Revolution in France, where the action of this book begins.

It is, nevertheless, true that if we define intellectuals merely as per-

sons who are interested in ideas, then they existed even earlier. Many older ideas have had (and still have) great influence on politics. The mere mention here of Plato and Aristotle should suffice. Another re-

levant example is Thomas Aquinas, who formulated the doctrine of subsidiarity which the European Union adopted, albeit more in theo-

ry than in practice. But this book focuses especially on a particular type of thinker’s ideas. This type is historically located from about the middle of the eighteenth century – exemplified by the "hommes de lettres and the hônnetes hommes" – almost exclusively in Europe, including Russia.

With this in mind, I want to sketch more precisely what I mean by intellectual. They are persons who are interested in abstract ideas. These may concern various aspects of life. Some may be about the arts or sciences, religion or culture, others indeed about politics. In the case of politics, such ideas are eventually communicated to the public. Three elements - abstract ideas, politics and communications - combine to form what is known as the public intellectual. This felicitous expression (which has no proper equivalents in French, German or Dutch) is a more precise definition of what I mean by intellectual.

Since the middle of the nineteenth century the state has intervened deeply in society. The domain of politics has thereby become much more extensive. Mass media now play a very important role. It is, in fact, difficult to think of public intellectuals apart from the communicative powers of mass media. These two developments have caused a great increase in the number of public intellectuals. But words are like money in that they can suffer from inflation. Formerly Thomas H. Huxley’s voice was solitary and strong – as the great public intellectual defending Darwin’s doctrines, but today few individual public intellectuals are heard. Nevertheless, collectively they make an incessant din, amplified by a barrage of opinion polls. Public intellectuals associate with other (public) intellectuals, often forming an in-crowd. These cliques are susceptible to hypes, captivated by appealing ideas and have a predilection for trumpeting catastrophes.

Even though these hypes are ephemeral, they rob the individual public intellectuals, who may occasionally disagree with the collective, of the courage and the stamina to stand alone against the thunde-

ring herd. The fight between Whittaker Chambers and Alger Hiss is a case in point. In 1948 Chambers accused Hiss of having spied for the Soviet Union. He was short and fat and sweated when speaking to cameras. Hiss on the contrary was suave, elegant, witty, Ivy League educated. Without knowing much about the case, the American liberal intelligentsia fell for him like a block. How could Hiss, with such a background, have been a spy?¹³ Few felt strong enough to object to the intelligentsia.

A number of continental intellectuals are discussed in this book but very few English ones. That is because English politics has been marked by anti-intellectualism at least since the Civil War. As George Orwell wrote: English intellectuals hate their country.¹⁴ In a sense, when an Englishman becomes an intellectual he becomes a Continental. Hence, the following ditty by Auden from his New Year Letter poem (1940):

To the man-in-the-street

Who I’m sorry to say

Is a shrewd observer of life

The word ‘intellectual’

Suggests straight away

A man who is untrue to his wife.

According to Bertrand Russell the conflict between King and Parliament in the Civil War gave Englishmen, once for all, a love of compromise and moderation, and a fear of pushing any theory to its logical conclusion, which has dominated them down to the present time¹⁵

The influence of intellectuals

My intention in this book is to show how ideas of intellectuals have at various times wrong-footed people, caused damage and even demanded casualties. A high price has been paid for them, but why are the political ideas of many intellectuals so costly? The answer is threefold. First, the political inexperience of most intellectuals allows them to hold untenable ideas. In the arts and sciences there are often child prodigies or precocious talents: Mozart, da Vinci, Pascal and Einstein, all of whom achieved great things before turning thirty. Not so in politics and political thinking, where ideas of value are based upon, and capable of being tested by, experience. With a few notable exceptions (Hume and Tocqueville), the great political treatises were written after the author had turned at least fifty-five. Most young people – and nearly all young intellectuals – have not had the opportunity to acquire experience. It is therefore likely that their political ideas have little value and may even be dangerous – in particular if they are of a general nature.

Among the fellow travelers with communism there were few with experience of the Soviet Union. Those that went there were bamboozled by proletarian hospitality. Mary McCarthy describes how her guide in Hanoi never left her side, not even when, at night, she went to the toilet. André Gide was an exception. Having joined communism out of a religious feeling, he went to the Soviet Union. Upon his return he wrote "Retour de l’URSS" in which he debunked the Soviet myth.

But experience need not always be of the object under discussion. Experience in one field may suffice for judgment in another. During the war in Vietnam one crusty old Southern senator remarked that, of course, he knew little of Vietnam but he still thought that the proposal by the United States Army to herd Vietnamese peasants into restricted areas would be fiercely resisted. That is what his experience with the US Corps of Engineers had taught him. As senator, whenever the engineers wanted to improve the infrastructure in Georgia he made a point of being out of state, because the people valued the prospective improvements less than the enforced change to their way of life.¹⁶

Another example is Harriet Beecher Stowe, who published the first installment of Uncle Tom’s Cabin in 1851, when she was 40. The Stowes then lived in Cincinnati, Ohio. They supported the Underground Railway and housed several fugitive slaves in their home. Here again plenty of experience.

In part because of inexperience, the second reason the political ideas of intellectuals are often so costly is that they frequently espouse ideas because they are appealing rather than because they are sound.

The third reason for the cost is what may be called the globalization of errors. The ideas of intellectuals do not tend to stay within the boundaries of one nation, much less one discipline. In this respect, the contemporary situation is no different from that in the eighteenth or nineteenth centuries. The language of choice is now English rather than French or Latin, and the communications are both more frequent and quicker. But the fact that a bad idea which is introduced in Paris finds its way into the politics of England or India is not new. For these reasons, it is my contention that appealing, general and abstract ideas in the hands of the inexperienced are able to cause untold suffering.

I say cause; however, causality is always difficult to prove, especially in something as nebulous as the world of ideas. The causal force of ideas in history is, and will always remain, highly controversial. Yet sometimes their force seems both clear and overwhelming: then it is undeniable. I have tried to choose episodes in intellectual history which meet these criteria, and I hope that my conclusions in this respect have been sufficiently prudent.

Common rallying points

There are a few concepts, proclivities and values – which I shall call themes – that distinguish these intellectuals from others who deal in ideas. Adhering to these themes also sets them apart from intellectuals who have had a positive effect on politics. Some of these themes have been common to intellectuals since the days of the Marquise de Rambouillet. Others have been picked up (and retained) along the way, like a mental venereal disease. Knowing these in advance is helpful in understanding why such intellectuals tend to espouse certain ideas and flee from others. These themes will recur in the book, but I shall briefly sketch them here.

To begin, the mantra First we destroy and then we’ll see. This was not only the Russian anarchist Bakunin’s slogan but also that of many revolutionaries who came after him. The Futurist Movement pretended the same, as did some of the wilder enthusiasts of the cultural revolution of 1968. Second, the frustrated love for the common working man. Alexander Herzen and Leo Tolstoy both admired the self-governing peasant village, the mir – a love that was not returned. The Russian narodniki wanted to educate the peasants, but the peasants turned them over to the police. They were interested in potatoes not in a constitution. Third, the concept of true needs which differ from needs that are manipulated by society – what Timur Kuran speaks of as preference falsification.¹⁷ This is foreshadowed by Rousseau, given expression to by Marx, put in practice by communists and surfaces in the writings of Herbert Marcuse – prophet of the generation of 1968.

Fourth, a loathing of the bourgeoisie. This is a constant theme among intellectuals. Both Alexander Herzen and Georges Sorel were very explicit about it, as was Gustave Flaubert. It is telling that bourgeois has remained a common term of abuse to this day.¹⁸ Fifth, faint-hearted sympathizers who remain on the fence and finally undermine their own position. The sad story of the Weimar republic – a democracy without democrats – showed this clearly, as did the disturbances at the Polytechnic of North London and the University of Essex.¹⁹ Sixth, the importance of youth for the development and reception of the ideas of intellectuals. Fascism appealed to giovinezza. Many young Germans, such as were to be found in the Wandervögelbewegung, the Birds of Passage Movement, supported the National Socialists. The left-wing Nazi, Gregor Strasser, famously said Out of the way, old men ("Macht Platz, ihr Alten). The Revolution of 1968 inspired almost exclusively young people: Don’t trust anyone over 30" became their slogan.

Lastly, boredom, which has not often been recognized as an important political factor. Yet it underlay the enthusiasm for war which enveloped a large part of Europe in August 1914. As Eric Hobsbawm (1917-2012) has written, it meant an end to  . . . the graduation of the 19th century improvement. The Counterculture rose in the 1950s, al-

though there were no events at that time which could really explain it, except the boredom of bourgeois society. A few months before the student revolt of 1968, Pierre Vianson Ponté wrote, The French are bored.²⁰ At a more fundamental level, Heidegger may well have been right when he