Having a clear and obvious enemy is an invigorating thing. The enemy brings you together with others of a similar, opposing mind. It stirs up the atavistic animalistic spirit of your primordial origins. It motivates you with a focused mission, normally to do good as you see it, often to save or protect some ideal or, as a conservative, a way of life. We all benefit from enemies.
The woke battalions are not so good in choosing their enemies: their scatter-gun approach is to blast away at anything that simply does not conform to their latest faddish bête noir, be that genetically-modified houmous or transphobic bees. Mind you, this does provide an endless source of fascinating case studies for saner folk to trying to understand hysteria.
But by what name do we conservatives know our enemy? ‘Woke’ serves nicely for one branch of the ‘progressive’ left, but it applies more to the foot soldiers. What of the people pulling their strings – and yanking our chains? The orchestrators of the illiberal liberal movement? I struggle to find the appropriate nomenclature for the High Command of liberalism. And this frustrates me. I need something solid, clear and which is easily understood when I vent my spleen. Any suggestions?
Of course, one wants to avoid, if one can, the intemperate, Anglo-Saxon invective of the football terraces – though goodness knows that can be tremendously satisfying. I largely reserve that for the privacy of my own home when I feel the TV needs a good hollering at, taking care that I am alone at the time lest the Hyde in me is revealed to a shocked family. Besides, taking instant recourse to colourfully and joyfully robust pejoratives might mark me out to my enemy as an inarticulate, ranting neanderthal. (To be fair, I self-identify as that on the third Tuesday of every month or when, as they say, ‘tired and emotional’.)
There are some phrases that we know and which serve us well, but, well lack the necessary impact.
The Great and the Good – This term is all-too-readily accepted by our ‘progressive’ overlords as a worthy moniker for themselves, for surely, they proclaim, are we not both? Alas, the irony of the G’n’G is lost on a good many people.
The Ruling Classes – Good, grief, no! Again, we understand what is meant by that, but they just love that seeming affirmation of their rightful place in society’s hierarchical order, placing them at the top of the pile and the rest of us at their feet craving their benevolent rule.
The Elites – Same as above but even worse. Elites – ooh, aren’t we just? I have witnessed an audience smugly smirking in satisfaction at an academic political science conference when a speaker told them that they were part of the ‘elites’. They just loved it. Brrrrr! I can never shake that horrible image from my memory.
The Clerisy – This is my personal favourite and much vaunted by a perceptive and learned friend of mine. It hints at the slimy, sanctimonious moralising of the self-appointed priestly caste who are oh so much more intelligent than us and oh so much purer. But it lacks a broader appeal and understanding. Besides, the lib toffs would again adapt this as badge of pride – or rather a virtue-signalling lapel pin.
Currently I am employing the term ‘our overlords’, but I’m not sure that cuts the mustard either.
By what name shall I know my enemy?