Peadar Kirby

When Fr Maurizio Patriciello, parish priest of Caivano, described Caivano as ‘a desolate, crime-ridden town on the outskirts of Naples’, controlled by the mafia, risking again the wrath of the crime bosses, he took the unusual step of writing to Italian Prime Minister, Giorgia Meloni, of the far-right Brothers of Italy party. ‘Her quick response left me really stunned’, the priest told The Guardian. ‘I had met Matteo Renzi and Giuseppe Conte, but the difference with Meloni is that she really took the situation in hand.’ Renzi had been leader of the centre-left Democratic Party, while Conte was an independent who joined the Five Star Movement after leaving office, both had served as prime ministers. Unlike them, Meloni visited within days, mounted a massive police operation against drug dealers, unlocked €30 million in funding and appointed three safety commissioners to oversee the district’s rehabilitation. While still critical of the inadequate nature of social services, Fr Patriciello is hopeful, ‘Caivano has become a symbol. But it could also now be a guiding light for all marginalised societies in Italy’, he said. ¹

Meloni, who cut her political teeth with the Italian Social Movement, inheritors of Mussolini’s fascist politics, founded the far-right Brothers of Italy party, bringing it from the margins to leading a government in a few short years. Since taking power, she has defied expectations, showing a pragmatic approach to enhancing Italy’s power within the EU and working with Ursula von der Leyen on restrictions to immigration, but holding strongly to conservative views on the family, gay rights, and abortion, and centralising power in her own hands. ‘Giorgia Meloni is western Europe’s most ruthless tactical operator – a new kind of nationalist populist who defies the easy categories’, wrote journalist Anne McElvoy.²

The example of Giorgia Meloni reminds us of the self-defeating futility of isolating the far-right in the hope that this is the way of ensuring they don’t get support. After decades, it must be clear that this strategy isn’t working and that a more serious attempt to understand what this growing phenomenon represents and why voters are flocking to support the far-right is urgently needed. Meloni’s response to Fr Patriciello’s plea is one hint. This second part of the article on the rise of the far-right places it in the wider context of the decay of mainstream politics over recent decades and how to begin to address this. ‘A better kind of politics’, which Pope Francis called for in the quote with which the first part of this article concluded, requires focusing on the social grounding of all political power, namely civil society and the many ways in which an individualistic atomisation has eroded the collectivities, and indeed the inherent democratic culture, on which political society depends if it is to flourish.

Reconstituting collectivities

The late Irish political scientist, Peter Mair, identified the roots of the fundamental transformation of politics over recent decades. In the ‘golden age’ of European politics, voters had a sense of belonging to their parties, and the act of voting was seen not as a calculated choice based on economic self-interest but rather ‘as an expression of identity and commitment’. Parties were built on a foundation of social communities ‘in which large collectivities of citizens shared distinct social experiences, whether these were defined in terms of occupation, working and living conditions, [or] religious practices’. Crucially, however, such social collectivities were ‘in their turn cemented by the existence of vibrant and effective social institutions, including trades union, churches, social clubs and so on’. In this way, the success of parties lay in their ability to channel a cohesive social identity in a way that strengthened the bonds of belonging.

None of this happened automatically. It required the conscious intervention of parties ‘actively mobilising citizens into a set of collective political identities’. Their success rested on cementing ‘the loyalties of their voters by building strong organisational networks on the basis of shared social experiences’ and reinforcing these through distinct policy programmes, which would be implemented once their party won power. As a result, voters felt represented, government by the people and for the people. This model of representative politics, of aligning identity and interests, has been undermined for two main reasons. One is the fragmentation of the cohesive social networks on which such parties were based, as workplace practices grow more and more segmented, trade union, social and church networks contract and weaken, and an ethic of individual self-realisation becomes more predominant. However, the other side of the equation is the ‘inexorable withdrawal of the parties from the realm of civil society towards the realm of government and the state’, thereby weakening their links to society and their representative functions.³

What Mair’s analysis alerts us to is the crucial connection between civil society and political society. The former is the place where new common projects are incubated, be they forms of social economy, sustainable eco- communities, radical forms of problem-posing education, creative protest actions, and many, many more. But what is crucial to their transformative potential is the link to political society, and that is where the major weakness lies in today’s society, as so much of politics has fallen victim to the corrupting inroads of strong economic interests within a broadly neoliberal conception of the role of the state. Pope Francis addresses the need to find ways of allowing the creative forces of civil society break through into political society:

What is needed is a model of social, political and economic participation ‘that can include popular movements and invigorate local, national and international governing structures with that torrent of moral energy that springs from including the excluded in the building of a common destiny’, while also ensuring that ‘these experiences of solidarity which grow up from below, from the subsoil of the planet – can come together, be more coordinated, keep on meeting one another’.⁴

Sundering the bonds of community

Pope Francis is pointing to the urgent need to again incubate a politics rooted in strong collective projects of social transformation. However, the very atomised nature of much of civil society is today allowing a toxic version of this link between civil and political society to emerge. It is, indeed, at the root of the politics of the far-right. The burning in mid-December last year of the Ross Lake House Hotel in Rosscahill, near Oughterard which was to be used to house seventyt asylum seekers, illustrates well the processes at work. Protesters blockading the hotel before the fire included members of the far-right National Party, while comments were made by two local Fianna Fáil councillors that appeared to echo anti-immigration sentiments, comments which were widely condemned. This is another example of the ways in which an issue emerging within civil society, amplified by far- right voices, is now making its way into mainstream political society, thus creating a dangerous culture that can be seen to legitimise anti-immigration protest actions. Another example was the motion put forward by the Rural Independents’ group in Dáil Éireann in early December, urging an immediate cap ‘on the influx of asylum seekers’ and asking ‘why unvetted single males, many from safe countries, are being accommodated’. Again, the content and tone of the motion echoed sentiments being promoted by the far-right. In these ways, we can trace how anti-immigration tropes move from fringe groups in civil society and, through being echoed within political society, gradually become mainstreamed. It is the trajectory through which far-right parties in many European countries emerged into parliament, and it may now be happening in Ireland. Just how fast this can happen was shown in March’s general election in Portugal, in which the far-right Chega party increased its seat numbers from 12 to 50 in the country’s 230-seat parliament.

However, for Pope Francis, what is required is a participative model that draws the excluded into the building of a common destiny. A report by the Hope and Courage Collective published last September gives practical guidance as to how – at this moment when far-right activists are seeking to exploit local grievances to divide and poison communities – to strengthen local community bonds, commitment, and solidarity. The report examines five recent cases of far-right activity in Ireland – Oughterard, Ballymun, Newbridge, Westport, and Fermoy. They distil the lessons learnt. Most important is to de-escalate rather than ignite, bringing down the temperature through not engaging in heated exchanges or mounting counter protests. Instead, the report recommends reaching out to local people, recognising their legitimate grievances and strengthening unity through organising events that celebrate diversity and the contribution of immigrants. ‘Recognising local expertise and putting it to good use worked very well for communities’, the report states, so that linking up these local networks and community groups, and drawing in organisations that may not be active on these issues (trades union are mentioned), ‘facilitate local integration and add strength and numbers in combating hate and disinformation’.⁵

When the tide goes out, looking at the pebbles left behind is important. There is always a fallout: communities are left managing after the far-right infiltrates. Relationships are strained, even fractured and a process of rebuilding is needed. The far-right is actively recruiting, and inoculating against their hate is a long process.⁶

Strengthening the bonds of community at a local level is therefore a vital first step towards incubating a new politics. But the Hope and Courage Collective also recognises the vital link between civil society and political society, when they recognise that local politicians, with a few notable exceptions, ‘were often absent, unavailable, or unwilling to address what was happening publicly … Some community leaders felt their representatives were ill-equipped and should have responded collectively, i.e. a council motion or statement.’⁷ This weak response from political society is an illustration of Mair’s point about the inexorable withdrawal of parties from civil society and illustrates very well the urgent need for a new generation of political leadership to emerge from civil society struggles. A first step in this direction would be to see far more candidates for local government emerging from local community groups.

‘The ordinary virtues’

This, then, is politics from the ground up, from the local to the national and the global. For most people the world over, it is the experiences and relationships of the local that most fundamentally shape their values and outlook, as Canadian academic and writer Michael Ignatieff found, when he teamed up with the Carnegie Council for Ethics in International Affairs to undertake a global study of ethics in action.⁸ Some of the findings were to be expected: the voices of the rich and propertied, the voice of money, have far greater weight that those of the poor. But they also found that what matters is not the abstract discourse of rights but rather the virtues that make sense of life’s harsh struggles and bind people to their communities: national pride, local tradition, religious vernacular. These are their defence against the globalising forces of money and power that can destroy communities, and it is very urgent that local communities mobilise and are supported to ensure that such virtues are not weaponised by the far-right.

Ignatieff’s inspired examination of ‘the ordinary virtues’ around the world offers a unique window on the challenge to politics today. For it identifies that even though we live in a globalised world in which moral values are converging, how these moral values are understood and how they are rooted can be very different. His conclusion is of immense importance:

We were struck, everywhere we went, by the primacy of the local. Even in a globalised world, local sources of moral life – our parents and siblings, our home, our place of worship, the local school, if there is one – are bound to be the primary shaping forces of our ordinary virtues.

Ignatieff concludes that ‘democratic sovereignty and the moral universalism of human rights are on a collision course everywhere’, as universalist claims such as the right to asylum or nationality are rejected in the name of a democratic defence of local values.⁹ What is being argued here, however, is that this collision course can be avoided if values of hospitality, diversity, universal concern are rooted in the local sources of virtue rather than in abstract formulations of universal values. To do this shifts the focus from defending liberalism to examining the ethical bonds that hold communities together at local level and ensuring these are not weaponised to divide and sow hatred but fostered to humanise and build solidarity. The crucial variable is institutions. These make all the difference. If they treat people with a basic decency, an evident equality, a tolerable efficiency, then they will tend to reinforce sociability and the bonds of community. However, ordinary virtues cannot flourish if honest, non-collusive, and responsive institutions are lacking, and liberal democracy is no guarantee against elite capture, corruption, and inequality.¹⁰ These findings raise major questions about how ‘liberal freedom’ supports and enhances or, alternatively, undermines and weakens, local virtue. However, such questions are far too often sidelined in the dismissive responses to the rise of the far-right and the failure to examine critically the local impacts of the dominant neoliberal development model. Meloni’s response to Fr Patriciello shows at least a sensitivity to such questions, which he didn’t find from those of her predecessors whom he had contacted.

It may not be surprising therefore that Meloni’s favourite philosopher, whom she describes as having the greatest influence on her party, is the English conservative Roger Scruton. Mathias Karlsson, the intellectual force behind the rise of the Swedish Democrats, says that ‘Scruton has been my inspiration’. ¹¹ In Scruton’s massive intellectual output, spanning some fifty books and hundreds of articles, far-right leaders find deep echoes of their concerns about the loss of a love of home, what Scruton called oikophilia. His oeuvre deals centrally with the sidelining of virtue, including piety, in the cosmopolitan multiculturalism that he sees now dominates European culture and which he describes as oikophobia, a rejection of family and local culture. Many of the key concerns of the far-right come straight from Scruton’s thought. He decries liberalism as reducing all obligations to those ‘created by individual choices’¹² and identifies transnational institutions, especially the European Union, as imposing laws on nation states by unelected bureaucrats. Immigration, laws on gay rights or abortion, and action for social justice or equality of opportunity, he criticises for undermining the attachment to a local community with families at their heart. The centrality of local citizens, living according to local customs, leads him to argue that ‘the real purpose of democratic government is less to impose laws than to prevent them’. ‘Parliament is constantly inventing new forms of regulation, new crimes, and new ways of controlling us, with seemingly no awareness of the fact that people are best regulated when they regulate themselves.’¹³ At the heart of Scruton’s work is the conviction that ‘civic order begins with the affections of local life, and transnational political institutions can only erode the capacity to develop them’, as Smith writes, adding that ‘his response is essentially an aristocratic one … and seems to assume a cultured elite might help guide our politics back’.¹⁴

As important as the themes the far-right derives from Scruton’s thought are, a sweeping tone of angry dismissal characterises so much of it. So, for example, in an interview with the Wall Street Journal, he said, ‘My own view is that left-wing positions largely come about from resentment … a resentment about the surrounding social order. They have privileges, I don’t.’ And he quickly added that this applies not just to the left but to the environmental movement also.¹⁵ Of certain left-wing intellectuals, he writes, ‘This essentially antipolitical impulse to silence their opponents leads the enemies of true cultural education to assert power over reality through language, inventing words and phrases that cloak their true meaning with obscurity while bathing them with moral authority.’¹⁶ This finds echoes in the scornful discourse of many on the far-right and may help to understand the deep attachment that some of them have to leaders who adopt such a tone. As Irish Times journalist Keith Duggan wrote, at the time of the Iowa primary in early 2024, quoting a local website founder Pat Rynard about why people support Donal Trump, ‘It is not about policies or issues or even realities. A lot of Iowans are very frustrated with the world. And the way things are. And they see Trump as someone who is also angry and wants to tear down the system.’ Duggan adds that the essential problem for the Democrats is that throughout the interior of the United States people think of them as ‘a political faith wedded to the interests of the elite’; this has never been more pronounced, he adds, ‘and is not without foundation’.¹⁷ So we badly need a more inclusive, more sustainable, and more humane response to the one Scruton’s work has helped inspire.

‘A healthy politics’

The late Fr Fergal O’Connor OP taught generations of politics students in UCD that the essence of politics is creating community. This points in a totally different direction to that of Roger Scruton, ‘a better kind of politics’¹⁸ as articulated by Pope Francis, which, ‘by its very nature calls for growth in openness and the ability to accept others as part of a continuing adventure that makes every periphery converge in a greater sense of mutual belonging’.¹⁹ This is the ‘exercise of political love’ that Pope Francis develops in Fratelli Tutti, ‘a healthy politics … capable of reforming and coordinating institutions, promoting best practices and overcoming undue pressure and bureaucratic inertia’.²⁰ Pope Francis too is concerned with questions of virtue and home, but these lead him to point in a very different political direction to Scruton. On virtue, he warns that ‘if the acts of the various moral virtues are to be rightly directed, one needs to take into account the extent to which they foster openness and union with others’,²¹ while he affirms that ‘love enables us to create one great family, where all of us can feel at home’.²² Unlike Scruton, who sees institutions as undermining local community bonds, Pope Francis echoes the findings of Ignatieff’s survey recognising, ‘What we need in fact are states and civil institutions that are present and active, that look beyond the free and efficient working of certain economic, political, or ideological systems, and are primarily concerned with individuals and the common good’.²³

It can be easy to dismiss the language of love when it comes to political struggle. But Pope Francis isn’t alone. The Hope and Courage Collective, quoted above, writes that, ‘Centring love, care and resilience in the community and more generally reinforcing our values is key in undermining the far-right agenda.’²⁴ And, as a new book on Hannah Arendt highlights, ‘The most effective antidote to totalitarian thought, she came to believe, is to love the diverse reality of the world so much as to summon the courage to defend it.’²⁵ We in Ireland have had inspiring examples of such a politics of love in the ways in which the referenda on marriage equality and repealing the Eighth Amendment to the Constitution were conducted, not by treating everything at the level of abstract principles and values but by creating space for conversations that allowed voters to grasp the lived realities of those personally affected by the issues involved. There are many lessons in this kind of relational politics for combatting the inroads of the far-right.

It is significant therefore that the topic of relational policy-making is emerging, and it deserves to be given far greater attention. Action Research for Transformation (ART) has been developed in the US by Irish researcher Hilary Bradbury, who sees the first step in all research as requiring the involvement of as many stakeholders as possible. She writes, ‘We can say that in formal education contexts, students are stakeholders; in healthcare, patients. What is interesting … is how often social science forgets to include these core stakeholders in producing reports on how to make their system better.’²⁶ So, when asked to report on reducing pollution in Los Angeles port, the ART team began by gathering all stakeholders together – shippers, manufacturers, truckers, retailers, waste haulers, the port executive but also the local communities living near the port. The first step in the research project therefore is the relational step, getting the stakeholders to engage with one another, give time to overcome fears and develop an understanding of one another’s interests and experiences. This transformation begins in fostering relationships. What a difference such a policy-making process would make to current standoffs with, for example, farmers throughout Europe and beyond. Mark Garavan applies ‘the dialogic solution’ to the Irish healthcare system, where managerial practices inspired by neoliberal emphases on individualism, on value for money, on time management, and on the commodification of care have become dominant. The challenge becomes to develop a system that fosters the relational potential of care:

What is important to recognise is that the logic of neoliberal care culminates in an array of performance indicator metrics, overseen by a managerial cadre. The attainment of these pre-determined indicators purports to offer a simulacrum of ‘market discipline’ by judging the competitive success of care providers (indeed even individual care workers within organisations) with the achievement of these indicators. Can we imagine a care system where if we must have them, the metrics of care are set by care receivers themselves? ²⁷

He outlines how this could be done through creating an ongoing dialogue between users of services and care professionals, so that the users have a key role in what outcomes they want. Garavan describes how this has been implemented in Finland and imagines that many service users may focus on a secure home or adequate heat rather than on a regime of medication or a place on a training programme.

Garavan adds, ‘Dialogue, genuinely manifested, is profoundly democratic.’ ²⁸ Here we have the seeds of an adequate response to the deep disquiet that motivates the followers of the far-right, based on constant experiences of disempowerment, exclusion, and abuse by institutions of state and market. All we have to remember are the experiences of the Post Office sub-postmistresses and postmasters or of the Windrush generation in the UK recently. To counter this, we need a genuine realisation of democracy throughout society rather than the semblance of democracy, which is all our system increasingly offers many citizens. And, though motivated by the challenges of climate change, the words of Pope Francis in his recent Apostolic Exhortation, Laudate Deum, outlining ‘a new procedure for decision-making’ apply this approach in a global context:

In this framework, there would necessarily be required spaces for conversation, consultation, arbitration, conflict resolution and supervision, and, in the end, a sort of increased ‘democratisation’ in the global context, so that the various situations can be expressed and included. It is no longer helpful for us to support institutions in order to preserve the rights of the more powerful without caring for those of all.²⁹

New stories

Writing about the ‘revolutionary spring’ of 1848–49, historian Christopher Clark states that ‘the “Social Question” that preoccupied mid-nineteenth- century Europeans was a constellation of real-world problems, but it was also a way of seeing’.³⁰ There is much about the present moment in global politics, but especially in Europe, that reminds one of the pre-revolutionary fears before the upheavals of 1789 in France, of 1848 throughout Europe, and of 1917 in Russia. The barbarians are at the gates, and the elites quake in their shoes. But, as Clark reminds us, much depends on the stories we tell, on the ways we see the situation.

The far-right is gaining strength in large part because they are turbo- charging very real sources of deep discontent with the current globalised, financialised, and technologised order, in which growing numbers feel they lack voice, find their grievances unheeded, face greater marginalisation, and are angered by wasteful displays of wealth by elites. The multiple symptoms of system breakdown, reinforced by the alarming changes to climate and ecosystems, can accurately be described as a pre-revolutionary moment. But if the message of the far-right causes alarm among many social sectors, it must be recognised that the alternative story on offer is, for many, simply a defence of the dominant order couched in abstract and individualistic principles that lack the charge and impact that the far-right can muster. The revolutionary urge to tear down the system is, by and large, being captured by them. As the title of Argentine journalist and historian Pablo Stefanoni’s book asks, ‘Has rebellion turned right-wing?’³¹

For generations the alternative story of revolutionary transformation was carried by versions of Marxism, but the greatest sign that this period is well and truly over is that many social sectors that voted solidly left in previous eras are now supporting the far-right. It may be that the traditional left-wing emphasis on the state as being the carrier of a transformative project is no longer credible nor desirable for many, or that the left is uneasy with the vocabulary of virtue, home, and belonging. Journalist Jack Shenker encounters again and again in his visits to broken communities around today’s Britain, abandoned both by state and by market, how ‘place matters far more than the high priests of globalism have reckoned for in recent years’; yet ‘attempts to rescue the notion of “community” from political purgatory need not depend on the construction of imaginary white idylls, as many nationalists would have us believe’.³²

The left needs an alternative vision of a radically new social order that takes seriously the need for a sense of secure belonging in local communities. Such a vision is on offer in the work of Karl Polanyi (1886–1964), a socialist thinker who focused his attention on the revolutionary potential of community, not as romantic nostalgia, as is often what the far-right offers, but as the site from which the foundations can be laid for a new global system that offers real possibilities of belonging and flourishing. Polanyi warns that ‘community for community’s sake is a poisonous beverage’, since it fails to acknowledge that the reality of community is impeded by our present market system, which ‘acts like an invisible boundary isolating all individuals in their day-to- day activities’. Achieving community, therefore, requires ‘a transformation of society through a change in the economic system’ by abolishing the private ownership of the means of production so that responsibility for the flourishing of society lies with the people as a whole rather than private owners.³³ This echoes the emergence of a co-operative economy in Ireland and elsewhere in the early twentieth century. Kate Raworth’s proposals for a doughnut economics³⁴ or Mary Murphy’s for an ecosocial welfare future³⁵ are examples that point in this direction.

The present moment can also be seen as a time of hope and immense opportunity, if we can elaborate a story that captures its full potential. The realities of climate change and biodiversity loss are highlighting the immensely destructive nature of our current socio-economic system and focusing attention back on the potential of localisation, developing its own resources to help community flourish, and fashioning radically transformed social institutions to allow us live in healthy balance with the ecosystems on which we all depend. The far-right are similarly focusing attention on the local but as a place to preserve traditions against the inroads of foreigners and of the state. Thus we have two stories pointing us in very different directions and with diametrically opposed potentials. As in all revolutionary moments, the future awaits to be constructed and no outcome is predetermined. It all depends on the stories we tell one another and where they lead us.

Peadar Kirby is Professor Emeritus of International Politics and Public Policy, University of Limerick. His most recent book is Karl Polanyi and the Contemporary Political Crisis: Transforming Market Society in the Era of Climate Change (London: Bloomsbury, 2021).

Notes

1. Angela Giuffrida, ‘Meloni’s response left me stunned: the Italian priest taking on the mafia’, The Guardian, 6 January 2024.
2. Anne McElvoy, ‘Ruthless, clever, pragmatic: why Giorgia Meloni is so dangerous to Italy – and Europe’, The Guardian, 14 November 2023.
3. Peter Mair, Ruling the Void: The Hollowing of Western Democracy (London: Verso, 2013), pp. 75–89.
4. Pope Francis, Fratelli Tutti (Vatican: The Holy See, 2020), 169.
5. Hope and Courage Collective, Greater Than Fear: A community based response to tackling hate and extremism (Dublin: Hope and Courage Collective, 2023), p. 43.
6. Hope and Courage Collective, Greater than Fear, p. 49.
7. Hope and Courage Collective, Greater than Fear, p. 46.
8. Michael Ignatieff, The Ordinary Virtues: Moral Order in a Divided World (Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 2017).
9. Ignatieff, The Ordinary Virtues, p. 207.
10. Ignatieff, The Ordinary Virtues, p. 220.
11. John Lloyd, ‘Can Roger Scruton save the European Right?’, UnHerd, 14 April 2023.
12. Quoted in Daniel Cullen, ‘The Personal and the Political in Roger Scruton’s Conservatism’, Perspectives in Political Science, 45:4 (2016), 261–71, at 264.
13. Roger Scruton, ‘Tyranny of the majority’, The Spectator, 288:9067, 18 May 2002, 16–18.
14. Brian Smith, ‘Roger Scruton and the Conservation of Culture’, Society, 45 (2008), 557–61, pp. 559–560.
15. Raymond Zhong, ‘Roger Scruton: Want to Save the Planet? Turn Right’, The Wall Street Journal, 13 April 2012.
16. Brian Smith, ‘Roger Scruton and the Conservation of Culture’, Society, 45 (2008), 557 – 61, p. 560.
17. Keith Duggan, ‘Triumphant Trump’, The Irish Times Weekend Review, 20 January 2024, p 1.
18. Pope Francis, Fratelli Tutti, 154.
19. Pope Francis, Fratelli Tutti, 95.
20. Pope Francis, Fratelli Tutti, 177, quoting Laudato Si’.
21. Pope Francis, Fratelli Tutti, 62.
22. Pope Francis, Fratelli Tutti, 91.
23. Pope Francis, Fratelli Tutti, 108.
24. Hope and Courage Collective, Greater than Fear, p. 45.
25. Ian Hughes, ‘The never ending fight against empty ideologies’, The Irish Times Ticket Review, 3 February 2024.
26. Hilary Bradbury, How to Do Action Research for Transformations at a Time of Eco-Social Crisis (Cheltenham, Edward Elgar, 2022), p. 53.
27. Mark Garavan, Care (Cork: Cork University Press, 2024), p. 36.
28. Garavan, Care, p. 97.
29. Pope Francis, Laudate Deum (Vatican: The Holy See, 2023), 43.
30. Christopher Clark, Revolutionary Spring: Fighting for a New World 1848–1849 (London: Allen Lane, 2023), p. 15.
31. Pablo Stefanoni, ¿La rebeldía se volvió de derecha? (Buenos Aires: Siglo XXI, 2021).
32. Jack Shenker, Now We Have Your Attention: The New Politics of the People (London: The Bodley Head, 2019), p. 65.
33. Peadar Kirby, Karl Polanyi and the Contemporary Political Crisis: Transforming Market Society in the Era of Climate Change (London: Bloomsbury, 2021), pp. 153–54.
34. Kate Raworth, Doughnut Economics: Seven Ways to Think Like a 21^st-Century Economist (London: RH Business Books, 2017).
35. Mary P. Murphy, Creating an Ecosocial Welfare Future (Bristol: Policy Press, 2023).