On incoherence.

Thinking about political contradictions.

I am in Liverpool and I am in a taxi. 

The reason I am in Liverpool is for The World Transformed, an annual socialist festival. The reason The World Transformed is in Liverpool is because the Labour Party conference is in Liverpool, even though the socialist Left has no meaningful influence in the Labour Party anymore, so there is no real reason to continue orbiting around their annual gathering. Still. We are here. 

The reason I am in a taxi is because public transport in Liverpool is plagued with all the normal horrors of a public service run by private operators who compete in name-only and I need to get to my destination on time. 

My taxi driver is giving me a well-practised whistle-stop tour of Liverpool, which quickly turns to a well-practised introduction to his personal political stance. Among other titbits (including that the sun sets in the West), he tells me these things: 

That he grew up with a lot of Black people in the south end. They’re the “lifeblood” of the city, apparently. 

That he now lives by the sea, in a Merseyside suburban town. He is pleased when I recognise the name of the famous sculptor whose works line the town’s beach. 

That I should jack in my rental contract and move north now, not in two years, because life is short and I can buy a property in Liverpool for a pittance, like other Londoners are doing.

That many of Liverpool’s beggars are on the streets because they can’t be bothered to get a job.

That he was present for the taking of the famous photo of the Beatles standing on a Liverpool Town Hall balcony.

That Liverpool is the British city boasting the most Grade I and II listed buildings. “That means heritage,” he adds.

That he doesn’t give a monkey’s which political party is in charge of the council so long as he gets paid and can afford the roof over his head. 

That people in Merseyside suburbia are being neglected while millions are poured into inner city renewal projects. 

“You gonna quote me?” he says, when I tell him I’m a journalist. “‘Taxi driver says…” 

He’s poking fun at the tendency of journalists to take one cab journey in an unfamiliar city and turn their driver into the voice of the people. Instead, I’m thinking about political incoherence. I don’t term it that at first, nor do I apply it to myself. I just think the cabbie is another example of the “complexity of people as political animals”, a pretentious phrase I’ve recently taken to trotting out. 

Later that evening, I am chairing a panel on moral panics, and the academic Sita Balani makes a point about coherence. 

“We’re the side that thinks we should be coherent,” she says, in answer to a question about why we don’t learn from recycled panics past. “Nobody else is burdened by the idea of coherence.” 

I return to this remark repeatedly in the following days, turning it over in my head. After consideration, I would open it up; many who identify as being on the Left are not burdened by the idea of political coherence either. I think I have been politically incoherent for much of my life. 

Previously I might have chalked this up to age but I’ve had enough conversations now with those well into middle age and beyond to know political incoherence is not limited to the young. The Liverpudlian taxi driver who bemoaned the housing costs in London, while encouraging me to use my London money to buy up his own city’s housing stock, is just one example of many. 

Political incoherence feels like one of the dominant themes of our time. In Britain, people used to more commonly identify as supporters of a political party or movement, with an accompanying subscription to a coherent ideological framework. But now single issue politics is on the rise. 

Instead of being, say, a socialist wedded to a specific political outlook and set of policies, people identify on a moral basis with single issues that often contradict one another. See:  another Liverpudlian taxi driver who told me he was a Labour voter, yet thought the entire benefits system should be scrapped because it only incentivises the lazy. Or the Albanian asylum seeker I met who believed in much stricter border controls for refugees and free healthcare and education for all. 

Each single issue stance might have its own internal logic but those logics contradict one another when compared and don’t add up to a coherent worldview. This – as far as I can see – contributes to political uncertainty, individualisation and disengagement. It is terribly difficult to try and talk out political incoherence with someone; it is usually based on hot blooded emotion alone: anger, grief, fear. Feelings often trump facts, rather than working alongside them to form a position based on empathy, compassion and evidence. 

To question political incoherence is to light a touchpaper – I know this from experience, having been both the hapless incoherent under scrutiny, and the person doing the gentle pressing. The more deeply you feel something, with emotion as your sole guiding rationale as to why, the more rabid you will be in defending that position. 

I thought about the rot of incoherence more this week, when someone challenged me on sharing an image on social media that celebrated bulldozers tearing down a checkpoint at the Erez Crossing, the only civilian route between Israel and the Gaza Strip. To cheer such imagery, they said, was to celebrate Hamas, the fundamentalist organisation that governs Gaza, and the civilian massacre militants from the group had carried out in Israel on 7 October. Did I not value those lives? Could I not see how this was a grossly inappropriate time to post such an image?

Unlike the messages I received calling me a “fucking idiot”, I engaged. At first I defended my repost. But I thought about it further; my challenger was right, in one sense.

I felt – and still feel – this picture was resonant of decolonial struggle. It is not up to me to dictate the forms that struggle takes. What was within my grasp, was an ability to satisfy the coherence that was being demanded of me – albeit, a demand not applied equally to pro-Israeli supporters by any means. I conceded slightly. Hamas are undeniably a militant organisation who preside over their own forms of suppression of human rights within Gaza – ultimately they do not seek liberation by the definition I adhere to, but religious extremism. It had been insensitive to share that particular image, so directly related to the subsequent murders, at that particular moment. However, I was grateful for the interaction, tense as it was, because it demanded I immediately sorted out my coherence on the issue. 

Taking the time to stress-test my position in accordance with my professed political beliefs – which sounds obvious but is rarer than ever these days – was immediately calming. I could be asked to condemn Hamas until the cows come home but it wouldn’t change the only coherent conclusion according to my political framework: that Palestine must be free. The illegal occupation must end. It is the root of the violence. 

To oppose Hamas is to oppose the occupation; Hamas is a creation of Israel, birthed and financed by the occupying state, as a vehicle to suppress secular and leftist political leadership in Palestine. Benjamin Netanyahu, the most influential Israeli politician of our times and the country’s longest-tenured prime minister, was so terrified by the prospect of a Palestinian state, he told his party members as recently as 2019 that bolstering and funding Hamas was a key strategy in thwarting that future and dividing the Palestinian population. 

To oppose territorial incursions is to oppose the occupation; since 1967, Israel - one of the most militarised powers in the world - has illegally occupied parts of Palestine and embarked on a land confiscation policy that has seen it seize over 100,000 hectares of territory. Tens of thousands of Palestinians are under threat of eviction from their homes, at the hands of settlers recruited as the civilian arm of the expansion project. 

To oppose senseless murder is to oppose the occupation. Since 2008, more than 6,000 Palestinians, the majority of them civilians, have been killed in the occupied Palestinian territories by Israeli soldiers or settlers. The comparable figures for Israeli victims of the conflict is 308. All these lives should carry equal weight but, as we have seen this week, widespread, global grieving is reserved only for one group. 

To oppose war crimes and the terrorising of civilians is to oppose the occupation. Gaza – where nearly 50% of the 2.3 million population is made up of children – has been under illegal blockade for the past 13 years. Israel’s immediate retaliation to the 7 October attacks, greenlit by the likes of Britain and the US, has been to escalate this siege. No electricity, no food, no water, no gas. The power ran out at midday on 11 October. All “basic life services” are at risk.

This is collective punishment, says the UN. By definition, it is a war crime, as much as Hamas’ most recent massacres are. It is also a war crime that Israel has been perpetuating for a lot longer than 24 hours. In 2020, Michael Lynk, the UN’s special rapporteur on human rights in the occupied Palestinian territories, published a report on Israel’s collective punishment policy.

“It is an affront to justice and the rule of law to see that such methods continue to be used in the 21st century and that Palestinians collectively continue to be punished for the actions of a few,” Lynk stated. “While Israel's justification for imposing the closure on Gaza was to contain Hamas and ensure Israel's security, the actual impact of the closure has been the destruction of Gaza's economy, causing immeasurable suffering to its two million inhabitants”. 

To bring up this context, in an age where political incoherence reigns, is to attract accusations of ‘whataboutery’. That term, fittingly, was created in the 1970s by proponents of continued British occupation in Northern Ireland_, wishing to dismiss the political arguments for Irish independence on the basis of the methods used by the IRA. The parallels are pretty clear. I don’t think it is ‘whataboutery’ to cite pertinent information when you’re asked to explain your position, or when responding to accusations of being a terrorist sympathiser because you express fear at the consequences of encouraging a militarised response from an extremist, nationalist government that wants to rob even their own citizens of legal rights.

Political incoherence isn’t Zionism - which is part of a coherent ideology, although one I disagree with. 

Incoherence is, to me, those who don’t identify as Zionists sharing calls to denounce senseless civilian murder, yet remaining silent on the thousands dead at the hands of the Israeli state - and the conditions that gave rise to their deaths. Incoherence is denying these killings are equivalent, or relevant, to the Hamas attacks. Incoherence is arguing that increased blockades and carpet bombing millions of people will restore security for Israel and save lives. 

Incoherence is being able to recognise that the political project of the Israeli state is separate from many of the people living in it (an understanding the Israeli state itself has tried to obstruct, by equating Judaism with Zionism), while equating Hamas wholesale with Palestinian liberation and the Palestinian population. Incoherence is asking Palestinians to rebuke Hamas’ attacks, and demanding no such contrition from Israel’s government regarding their war crimes. Incoherence is stating your wish is peace in the region and failing to advocate for restraint and de-escalation. 

Political incoherence dogs us, at least in Britain - another triumph of neoliberalism. Under a dead end ideology, where the only political framework touted is look out for yourself and accrue capital (essentially: fuck bitches, get money), it’s no wonder many of us are pulled in competing directions. But while the cradle of incoherence may seem akin to the bliss of ignorance, it’s a canker that can lead to you being ten toes down, furiously defending an oppressive political strategy, or blaming the marginalised for their impoverished circumstances.

Piecemeal, contradictory beliefs produce piecemeal, contradictory outcomes. No long-term, cohesive vision. No chance at substantial, progressive lasting consensus or coalition. Just short-termism and firefighting individual issues, rather than joined up, consistent political thinking. As a slowly reforming incoherent, I hope others in the same boat are feeling the same, looking for something bigger to believe in. It’s the only way things might start making sense again.