Title: Brotherhoods of Fear

Author/Artist: Paul Elliott

Publisher: Blandford

Media: Book

Reviewer: Pan

‘Brotherhoods of Fear’ is a book that promises much more than it delivers. In looking at such diverse groups as the KKK, the Red Army Faction, the Mafia, Aum Shinrikyo and others, one would hope that Elliott would apply some kind of theoretical or psychological framework to link the different groups together. Instead we get the sketchiest kind of definition imaginable, which boils down to the fact that these groups are (a) violent and (b) they don’t give a toss what the rest of the world thinks of them.

If that sounds like a Readers Digest view of the world then you’d not be far off the mark. There’s a bias here, of course. Given the author’s hazy definition of what constitutes ‘a brotherhood of fear’ (and hey, don’t a lot of these groups have women in them?), it’s no surprise that he doesn’t include such vicious and violent brotherhoods as the SAS and the Metropolitan Police. But of course, they’re alright because they’re on the ‘right’ side of the law.

What this leads to is a survey of a number of different, unconnected groups and attempts to offer some degree of insight into their histories and motivations. And it’s a pretty mixed bag, starting with the Inquisition and the medieval witch-burnings and ending with Aum Shinrikyo’s sarin attack on the Tokyo subway. Along the way we meet 19th Century Anarchists, the Mafia, British neo-Nazis, Baader-Meinhof, the Klan and more. In each case we get a smattering of history, some facile analysis and then we’re off onto the next group.

There’s little depth here, and no understanding of the ideologies which underpin these disparate groups. For example the section on Anarchists focuses on Anarchists as lone assassins and ruthless bombers. There’s no mention of Anarchism as a mass movement or as a coherent ideology, no mention of the Russian Revolution or the Spanish Civil War. The author doesn’t even mention the phrase ‘propaganda by deed’, which even the most cursory research on 19th Century Anarchism would have turned up.

The treatment of Anarchists is indicative of the whole book, which is superficial, poorly researched and likely to appeal to people who find long words problematic. Just the sort of people, in fact, who buy the Readers Digest. If you’re interested in any of the groups included in this book then take my advice and seek out something better, it shouldn’t be too difficult to find.