I picked up a copy of the excellent left wing thinker, Nick Cohen's, latest book, What's Left? (Harper Perennial) while I was in the UK the other week.  It's essentially an analysis, by a man of the left, of the moral and intellectual crisis that exists on the left of British politics.  His analysis of the baleful impact of postmodern twaddle on left thinking is brilliant, and includes a trenchant criticism of one of my own heroes, Edward Said, which, I am sad to say, is somewhat compelling vis a vi Said's post-2001 stance.

A couple of things struck me.  1. I had forgotten about the pathetic visit of Michel Foucault to Iran in 1978, just before the Islamic Revolution, when MF delighted in the oppression which was about to descend on that land -- seeing the different `regime of truth' in Iran (we might say `language game') as legitimating the abominations about to come.  Left ('scuse the pun) me wondering if the reason I still want to be on the left -- above all, a basic respect for universal human rights, democracy etc -- is now, ironically, more a distinctive of the right (memo to self -- keep reading Nat Hentoff and everything will be OK).  And it reminded me once again of the problem of those left evangelicals who appeal to tradition as the solution to all our problems and yet, with neither the doctrine of scripture of, say, a Warfield, nor the ecclesiology of, say, Benedict XVI, seem incapable of explaining why their notion of `tradition' allows them to avoid Ku Klux Klan freaks claiming that lynching is part of the Christian tradition.  I guess it's because the nice people who attend their seminaries or turn up at their conferences have a different `regime of truth' to the Klan.  So that's all right then..

2. Cohen's attack on the gnostic bombast that is part of the very essence of new left theory reminded me of the garbage with which so many postmodern emergent types fill up the pages of their books.  As Orwell argued so brilliantly, good writing is essential to a healthy political process; and so good writing is to theology.  Here's what Cohen says on page 96:

Writers write badly when they have something to hide.  Clarity makes their shaky assumptions plain to the readers -- and to themselves.  By keeping it foggy they save themselves the trouble of spelling out their beliefs and recommendations for the future.  For academics, of all people, this is a disreputable way of going about business, but one that has many uses.  Obscurantism spared the theorists who emerged from the grave of Marxism the pain of testing dearly held beliefs and prejudices, as well as the inevitable accusations of selling out from friends and colleagues [which] a clear-headed revision of their ideas would bring.

Now there's a powerful dissenting opinion.  Or, as our emergent friends might say, `There is a dissonant vocality challenging the hegemony of the Other.'