EMILE DURKHEIM ONCE OBSERVED: is perhaps no collective representation which is not, in some sense, delirious (qtd. in Moscovici, 1987, p. 157). I begin this response by acknowledging that we all might be more prone than we realize to the powerful, often beguiling nature of appeals. As Stewart, Smith, & Denton (1994, pp. 52-53) observe, conspiracy may be real or imagined, but the process is the same; chain of apparently unrelated events or actions is linked to reveal concerted actions and intentions to cause all sorts of social, economic, political, religious, and moral problems. (1) In the process, it is sometimes difficult to distinguish reality from fantasy. It also may be difficult to avoid delirium. The Continuing Appeal of the Birch Society Robert Welch once publicly asserted that Republican Senator Robert Taft had died of that had been passed on to him by Soviet operatives through a radium tube planted in the upholstery of his Senate seat (Pipes, 1997, p. 37). The description of this absurd scenario can take on the patina of legitimacy when, for example, such claims are made in cold war setting where reputable sources report that KGB agents, in an effort to get British spy out of room, smeared poisonous substance on chair and made the intended victim violently ill. Telling the real from the imaginary can be difficult and demanding task. There are legions of subjective judgments attached. The reference to Welch is, of course, not so subtle transition to Professor Stewart's essay. Stewart rightly observes that the changing context of the times has everything to do with the believability and potential acceptance of conspiratorial forces. In fact, the social, historical, geographic, temporal, and contextual dimensions of change help account for the popularity or demise of particular accounts. In the John Birch Society, we encounter remarkable longevity and persistence. Professor Stewart persuasively documents why this is the case. I believe the Birchers have latched on to classic model; it is made even more complete because it is imbued with transhistorical significance through what Stewart terms interlocking conspiracies. Indeed, Stewart gives convincing account of how the Society made the transition from one context to the next. In Stewart's apt phrase, it was an effortless shift. This shift is particularly striking since we are now in the post-Soviet, post-Cold War era. Welch's guiding principles help establish the generic parameters of discourse. Key themes, like the cancer of collectivism, the master tracing its roots to the secret 18th century Bavarian society that came to be known as the Illuminati, all the way to the invisible government represented by the nefarious agents of Trilateral Commission and the Council on Foreign Relations, to the god and devil terms associated with the New World Order, and the attribution of moral decline associated with the family, strike, one and all, old familiar refrains. Indeed, the characters and actions emerge like family members in long lost but constantly resurrected picture album handed down through the generations. In this company and with these images, an article such as My Mother the State becomes generic warrant for all that is wrong with America and clarion call to action against wrongdoers (see e.g., Goldzwig, 1987). Thus, in conspiracy, active participants and dupes alike march inexorably toward the precipice of impending disaster. Ostensibly, only true believers can stanch the rising tides of ruin. What is most convincingly documented in Professor Stewart's account is vivid description and analysis of rhetoric of dystopian logic that has accomplished transgenerational influence through contextually constructed substitution of terms--each of which blurs distinctions as they chain out over time. …
No takes yet. Share an insight, caveat, or question.
Steven R. Goldzwig (2002) studied this question.
Synapse has enriched 5 closely related papers on similar clinical questions. Consider them for comparative context: