Fascism
The Parallax ViewFascism appears here less as a self-contained historical case than as a political project within modernity: an alternative that claims to preserve the modern capitalist order while displacing the antagonisms built into it. The account connects that project to the contradiction between capitalism’s universal reach and its unequal social relations, and warns against treating fascism as either a harmless cultural variant or an evil wholly outside ordinary human and political life.
Fascism and the Idea of Alternative Modernity
The discussion begins with the contemporary language of alternative modernities: the reassuring proposal that different societies can fashion distinct versions of modern life without confronting the system that makes them modern. The difficulty is that modernity means more than a collection of cultural styles or national paths. It also names worldwide capitalism. If that systemic dimension is relegated to just one historical variant among many, the language of plurality can make the antagonism constitutive of modernity disappear from view.
Fascism and Communism are presented as major twentieth-century projects that fit the pattern of alternative modernity. In the account’s formulation, fascism offered a modernity distinct from Anglo-Saxon liberal capitalism while claiming to preserve capitalism’s core by identifying and casting out elements it treated as corrupting or disruptive. Its opposition to the standard liberal-capitalist model therefore did not, by itself, amount to a rejection of capitalist modernity. It was an attempt to manage that modernity’s contradictions through an exclusionary political answer.
The comparison with Soviet modernization clarifies the wider point without making the projects identical. The rapid industrialization of the Soviet Union in the late 1920s and 1930s also pursued modernization by a route distinct from Western capitalism. The book places both cases under the category of alternative modernity because each offered a different way to organize modern social life; it does not thereby erase their political differences. The analytical question is what such alternatives do with the antagonism of modernity, not simply how many cultural or institutional forms modernity can take.
Antagonism, Universality, and Political Difference
The critique of alternative modernities is part of a broader account of the relation between the universal and its particular forms. The universal is not a neutral container in which different political arrangements peacefully coexist. It is the site of an unresolved problem, and particular arrangements are attempted answers to it. Applied to modernity, this means that its capitalist character cannot be separated off as one optional species among others without losing sight of the contradiction that shapes the whole.
That distinction matters for interpreting fascism. Multiplying national or cultural models may appear to honor their differences, yet the multiplication can also obscure the common systemic antagonism that those models address. Fascism’s proposed alternative is therefore not simply another local expression of modernity: it is a political effort to displace the conflict internal to the capitalist order by assigning its cause to elements represented as alien to the order. The critique focuses on that displacement, rather than treating fascism’s self-description as proof that it has escaped the structure it seeks to reorganize.
The same method cautions against collapsing unlike political histories into a single moral comparison. The text opposes a supposedly neutral comparison of Fascism and Stalinism when that framing makes Nazism appear merely a reaction to, or repetition of, Bolshevik practices and consequently locates the original guilt in Communism. The objection is not that the regimes or their violence should be exempt from judgment; it is that the terms of comparison can predetermine which political project is treated as the source and which as the derivative one.
The Human Scale of Political Evil
A related argument challenges the easy description of Nazis as simply inhuman or bestial. The book suggests that the problem may lie precisely in their remaining human, all too human: political evil need not come from a realm beyond ordinary human motives and weaknesses. This formulation does not soften the judgment of Nazism. It unsettles the comforting separation by which evil is assigned to a monstrous outside and ordinary humanity is left unexamined.
The discussion develops this point through comedy. Comedy can expose the gap between a dignified political mask and the ordinary passions that sustain it, but its sharper operation is an exchange of emphasis: the supposedly sublime task or commanding persona can itself appear as an excessive, limited human attachment. In this reading of Charlie Chaplin’s The Great Dictator, Adolf Hitler’s political hubris is not made harmless by comedy; it is rendered ridiculous as an all-too-human idiosyncrasy. The comic perspective resists turning the dictator into an inexplicable supernatural embodiment of evil, while keeping his political conduct in view.
Historical Judgment and the Limits of Comparison
The discussion of Stalinism supplies the context for the book’s warning about comparative judgment. It presents the forced collectivization and rapid industrialization beginning in 1928 as an inward redirection of revolutionary energy after the Soviet project remained confined within one country. Drawing on Isaac Deutscher, it describes industrialization and collectivization as substitutes for the spread of revolution abroad, and the liquidation of the Russian kulaks as a substitute for the overthrow of bourgeois rule elsewhere. These claims concern the explanation of Stalinism’s emergence; they do not make it interchangeable with fascism.
The book’s stated task is to hold together the October Revolution’s emancipatory potential and the historical necessity of its Stalinist outcome, rejecting both the view that Stalinism was only a contingent deviation and the view that the Communist project was totalitarian at its core. In that framework, fascism is neither removed from the history of modernity as an alien aberration nor treated as a simple mirror of Communism. The analysis instead asks how distinct political projects respond to modernity’s antagonisms—and how descriptions of those projects can conceal, relocate, or falsely settle the conflicts they claim to resolve.