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Who says Conservatives have to be square?
Adam Daifallah
Weekend Post
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Crunchy Cons: How Birkenstocked Burkeans, Gun-Loving Organic
Gardeners, Evangelical Free-Range Farmers, Hip Homeschooling
Mamas, Right-Wing Nature Lovers, and Their Diverse Tribe of
Countercultural Conservatives Plan to Save America (Or At
Least the Republican Party).
By Rod Dreher
Crown Forum
272 pp., $34
The conservative movement in the United States is, if anything,
diverse. There's a wide spectrum of views within the conservative
family. And over the years a rather lengthy list of neologisms
has developed to label adherents of the various strains of
America's dominant ideology.
Lately we've heard a lot about the neo-cons, a term used to
describe those who favour hawkish foreign policy (though it
has morphed into a code-word for "Jewish conservative").
Then there are the so-cons (social conservatives), those who
support traditional moral values and oppose abortion. The
paleo-cons are the faction of isolationist and anti-immigration
types: Think Pat Buchanan.
Now, thanks to Rod Dreher, a former writer for National Review,
now of the Dallas Morning News, we can add yet another to
the growing list, which Dreher describes in Crunchy Cons:
How Birkenstocked Burkeans, Gun-Loving Organic Gardeners,
Evangelical Free-Range Farmers, Hip Homeschooling Mamas, Right-Wing
Nature Lovers, and Their Diverse Tribe of Countercultural
Conservatives Plan to Save America (Or At Least the Republican
Party).
What, exactly, is crunchy conservatism? Like other subgroups
of conservative thought, fitting it into a neat little box
is difficult. Dreher, who coined the term, likens crunchy-cons
(the "crunchy" is in reference to granola, which
they eat) to right-wing hippies. This heretofore unbranded
variety of right-winger exhibits certain bedrock conservative
traits: a commitment to small government and support for traditional
values and the free market. But they dissent on many others.
Just about everything else, in fact.
Inspired by two of the godfathers of modern American conservatism,
Richard Weaver and Russell Kirk, Dreher gives us a crunchy-con
manifesto that advocates, in essence, a communitarian outlook
on life (it can't really be called an ideology per se), emphasizing
the importance of family, spirituality, restraint and protecting
the environment. If your idea of a conservative is Gordon
Gekko, this book will surprise you.
In short, Dreher's crunchy conservatism combines strong social
conservative beliefs with moderate fiscal conservatism, while
rejecting the excesses and rougher edges of modern right-wing
dogma. Crunchy-cons oppose factory farming, urban sprawl and
daycare. They avoid processed foods, and are just as skeptical
of big business as they are of big government. They believe
strongly in home schooling, organic foods and protecting the
environment. In the Canadian context it sounds like a brew
consisting of two parts Conservative Party and one part Green
Party. Fundamentally, crunchy-cons are just conservatives
who want to conserve.
"Too many people who call themselves conservative share
the same fundamental conviction of many liberals," Dreher
writes. "Namely, that individual fulfilment is the point
of life." As Dreher sees it, the unbridled consumerism
and materialism often associated with modern conservatism
has gone too far. He supports conservative ideas, but will
concede that the state sometimes has a role to play.
In a way, Dreher seems to be pining for a conservatism of
a bygone era, perhaps of the type epitomized by Teddy Roosevelt's
progressivism, or Benjamin Disraeli's "one nation"
variety. Crunchy conservatism is like a reaction to the nameless,
faceless bureaucratic state and the growth of big corporations.
After taking us through his own conversion to crunchy conservatism
(the book is semi-autobiographical), Dreher introduces us
to various Americans living out the crunchy ethos across the
U.S.: people who grow their own veggies, drive hybrids, run
conservationist environmental organizations and practise natural
family planning. And, though reluctantly for some, they generally
vote Republican. (As one of Dreher's interviewees puts it,
"The alternative is so much worse.")
This book is a quick, fun read that highlights the diversity
of thought within the conservative tribe. Dreher doesn't so
much put forward new ideas as write a biography of a way of
life.
Crunchy conservatism is not a political movement -- not yet,
anyway. It remains to be seen whether these ideas will catch
on and become a political force. My guess is many crunchy
beliefs would resonate with a large chunk of the American
public. It could probably do well in Canada, too. But as of
now, the movement doesn't have a leader to champion it. Perhaps
Dreher is ready for a second career?
Adam Daifallah is co-author, with Tasha Kheiriddin, of Rescuing
Canada's Right (John Wiley & Sons).
© National Post 2006
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