Fox on the Run
Daniel Kruger’s article in the Spectator on neo-colonialism (which can best be characterized as, “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em,” and is well worth reading in full) begins with this wonderful preamble:
The West might be superficially divided between hawks and doves, but there is a deeper division: between foxes and hedgehogs. In a famous essay on Tolstoy, Isaiah Berlin said the division was ‘one of the deepest’ among human beings. The distinction applies just as well to politicians and governments.
Foxes, said Berlin, are sophisticated, pluralist, usually atheist, and distrustful of absolutes. Hedgehogs are anti-intellectual, single-minded, often religious, and comfortable with certainties, chief among which are ‘good’ and ‘evil’. Foxes think many small things; hedgehogs think one big thing.
A truer, more concise summation of the human condition could scarcely be imagined. Every population, regardless of ethnic or national origin, counts its foxes and its hedgehogs, and the essential arguments between the two are as eternal and predictable as the seasons. The utopias envisioned by pure-breeds of each species are notable for their total exclusion of the values cherished by the other, but history has shown that just about any unit of human society, from a commune to a nation-state, is too large for such unanimity. Even that arch fox haven of the moment, France, exhibited an embarrassingly severe hedgehog eruption last year with l’affaire LePen, and even the most benighted hedgehog state, Iran, has shown that it can’t keep its foxes down forever.
Regrettably, that does not stop either side from trying to score the final triumph. Long experience has given both sides ample insights into the conditions that favor one over the other. Foxes, which thrive on urbanity and spread their foxish ways through discussion and dialogue, build institutions which foster and valorize those values. Hedgehogs prefer hierarchies of authority to prevent the spread of harmful thoughts or discomforting questions, and these hierarchies are more readily constructed in small, traditional enclaves such as rural communities. Both actively propagate the institutions that support their world views (universities, media and consensus-based government in the case of foxes; churches, hierarchically-organized corporations and the military for hedgehogs), each trying desperately to cut of the oxygen supply of the other. Of course, neither side could last long without the contributions of the other, as much as they both hate to admit it.
The difference in outlook is mirrored in a difference of method. Foxes seek consensus – conflict is seen as a failure. Hedgehogs, certain in their views already, see no virtue to conversation and are quicker to resort to the use of force, which they see as a truer measure of conviction in any case. As means of dealing with the world, both methods have their merits. Unfortunately, in the internal dynamic between the two species, it leaves the foxes at a distinct disadvantage, as cunning will only get you so far in the face of an angry mob of torch- and pitchfork-bearing hedgehogs.
It’s also a problem when the heterogeneous community is faced with an external threat. Pragmatic foxes seek solutions to the problem at hand, or, at their worst, offer clever ways to suggest that there really is no problem at all. Hedgehogs equate subtlety of thought with lack of principle, and find ways to accommodate the new challenge into their pre-existing worldview, which offers simple, all-purpose directions for action. Most of all, whatever the immediate threat, hedgehogs are much less apt than foxes to forget who the real enemy is and make their plans accordingly.
Kruger concludes in his article that “the day of the hedgehog has dawned.” If that’s the case, history tells us that the foxes had better take cover.
9:03:30 AM 
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