Family Resemblances and Political Movements

Pulpit at the Washington National Cathedral

I find that Wittgenstein’s notion of family resemblances is most apt when thinking about things that are socially constructed. So, when thinking about fascism, my tendency is to think of it as a family resemblance term, rather than a term with necessary and sufficient conditions. According to this way of thinking, one doesn’t search for identical features between different instances but instead one looks for links between aspects of possible cases. 

Doing a little looking around, I see that Dimitris Gakis has written an insightful chapter, "Wittgenstein’s 'Family Resemblances' and Their Political Potential," on this topic, and more, in the recent collection Wittgenstein and Democratic Politics, edited by Lotar Rasiński, Anat Biletzki, Leszek Koczanowicz, Alois Pichler, and Thomas Wallgren (Routledge 2024). At one point in the chapter, Gakis writes: "Fascism, viewed as a family‑resemblance concept, i.e. as dynamic and open‑ended, is not a historical relic or a reified, historically limited, ideal type to which today’s reality either conforms or not, but a complex and diverse, continuously developing living reality that many experience (and understand as such) first‑hand today." (Gakis 2024, 187)

This sort of approach to thinking about fascism is sensitive to differences small and large between different instances; however, what is true of one historical form of fascism will not necessarily be true of a new instance. A key difficulty in this is that if one labels Trumpism as a form of fascism, one thereby knows some *possibilities* for the future for which we need to prepare ourselves, not necessarily that there will be some sort of historical repetition of a prototype (as, say, with a Spenglerian conception of history). But two features of Trumpism that are abundantly clear are its cruelty and cronyism. Directly or indirectly, these features are already leading to considerable fear and suffering.

But we can still prepare for these uncertain times. To that end, grounding oneself psychologically, ethically, and emotionally may be helpful. For me, among other things, this means I am listening a lot to John Coltrane these days and writing.

John Coltrane at the Village Vanguard, "Spiritual" (1961)

Like a great many people, I was struck by Bishop Mariann Budde’s sermon last week (was it just last week!?). I found it to be grounding in its way. It was a heartening instance of moral and spiritual call, even if it could not and would not be heard by its intended audience. I hope her appeal for mercy will inspire others to make their own appeals for mercy as well as empathy and humaneness. 

Bishop Mariann Budde's Sermon at the Washington National Cathedral on 1/21/25

It is necessary to reach deep into our wells of empathy and centeredness if we are going to be able to face the cruelty emerging in Washington and around the country. While I have no illusions about the efficacy of empathetic speech when hearts have been “hardened,” to use what seems perhaps an apt Biblical expression, they are not the only audiences out there. There are significant numbers of people who are scared by cruel power, who are depressed in the face of it, or who feel it is pointless to resist tyranny. Budde’s plea shows it is not pointless. 

Living in concert with one’s higher values and aspirations and in solidarity with those who are vulnerable is what makes one truly free. Acts of daring love are needed to make our society worth living in and, if one were to speak as a Christian, churches worth supporting.

Whatever movements for freedom and resistance to cruelty are called for in these Trumpist times, they too will bear family resemblances to movements of the past. We may take inspiration from figures like John Lewis, Ella Baker, or Dietrich Bonhoeffer, but our times call for new artists, leaders, and critics—and ordinary people just trying to live lives of decency—who will offer their own improvisational variations on tactics and strategies of the past. In anticipating the democratic movements of near future, attending to the patterns of the past may help us to have an ear for where, when, and how to act.

Detail of the "Human Rights Half Boss" at the Washington National Cathedral.

The sign for this small sculpted piece included this passage from Amos 5:24: 

"Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever flowing stream."

Reference

Gakis, Dimitris. 2024. "Wittgenstein’s 'Family Resemblances' and Their Political Potential," in Lotar Rasiński, Anat Biletzki, Leszek Koczanowicz, Alois Pichler, and Thomas Wallgren, eds, Wittgenstein and Democratic Politics, New York: Routledge.