The Decline and Fall

So much for calculations
So much for standing tall
So much for implications
So much for the decline and fall

Manic Street Preachers

The release of the latest single from my favorite rock band this week got me thinking: have we been witnessing the decline of Israel as Bibi’s “startup nation” and, more broadly, the decline of Western civilization? And if so, is that necessarily a bad thing? Is there a kind of glory to be found at the end of a cycle?

The Manic Street Preachers have been my favorite band since I was 17, when I first heard their anthem for the Welsh volunteers of the Spanish Civil War, “If You Tolerate This Your Children Will Be Next.” I suppose it is a teenage crush. Global Anglo-Saxon pop culture often works that way, boxing people in by design—fans of the ’60s gravitate towards The Stones or The Beatles, while those from the ’70s might prefer Led Zeppelin or ABBA. As for me, I had my moments with Radiohead and Blur, but the Manics were the only band that could seamlessly fuse imagery, music, and lyrics in a truly satisfying way.

Moreover, they’ve never split up, so here I am, in my 40s, still enjoying music from the band I loved as a teenager. While my ideas have evolved and the world has changed, your first band is like your first love—you remain eternally faithful to it, not because it defines you more than it fulfills you.

Back in the ’90s, much like today, music singles often had three-letter titles and explored deep philosophical themes like unreciprocated love or inexplicable happiness. But the Manic Street Preachers brought something different to the table, injecting Nietzsche and Chomsky in the vein. Whether out of arrogance or pretentiousness, this trio from a small, working-class town in Wales, shaped by the 1984 miner’s strike, always aimed to infuse their music with a political dimension. They famously claimed that their songs are more frequently cited in university PhD thesis than those of other rock bands. With titles like “I Am Just a Patsy” (a reference to Lee Harvey Oswald’s statement when arrested), “Kevin Carter” (named after the anti-Apartheid South African photographer), and “Let Robeson Sing” (dedicated to African American communist singer Paul Robeson), it’s easy to see why. They even launched an album in Cuba, where pop music is usually forbidden, and performed with Fidel Castro in the audience.

I don’t rely on the Manic, or any rock band, for political insights. I’m not naïve, and I recognize that Nicky Wire and his bandmates share Roger Waters’ “From the River to the Sea” anti-Zionist stance, which, by extension, makes them antisemitic out of ignorance. But I do pay attention to aging rockers who have managed to adapt to a changing cultural landscape, as they can often provide insight into emerging trends. In 2010, amid the rise of social media and its transformation of humans into fodder for algorithms, they released a song called “A Billion Balconies Facing the Sun,” followed by an album aptly titled Resistance is Futile. After COVID, the lockdowns, and the disappearance of a whole way of life, they released another album called The Ultra Vivid Lament.

Last week, the Manic Street Preachers released a single called “The Decline and Fall.” You don’t need to have experienced the prosperity of the ’90s to recognize that the turbulent times we live in are not so much about the rise of something new as they are about the decline of something old. In England, the far right takes to the streets while radical Islam dominates discourse. In Europe, immigration competes with jobs, just as automation encroaches on creativity. In America, much like in ancient Rome, the current oligarchy represented by the Democratic party battles at the ballot box against the empire represented by Trump. No matter the outcome of the election, it seems to signal the decline and fall of popular democracy.

Here in Israel, the government’s incompetence and sluggish response have led to the deaths of hostages, while a chaotic opposition tries to overturn the results of democratic elections through street protests. This doesn’t feel like the rise of anything new; rather, it feels like the end of a cycle.

As for the world, we are facing a structural problem: an exhausted economic model that fails to provide solutions for an overpopulated planet with limited resources. Placing all our hopes on the internet revolution only prolongs the agony without offering any concrete answers.

Focusing on Israel, which rode the wave of the internet revolution as far as it could, it’s clear that the country is not an emirate economy where a few exploit millions; it is a Western democracy that must find solutions for all its citizens. Eventually, the fact that Israel is surrounded by failed states and struggling economies will come back to haunt it, whether through war or blockades. Now, we are facing war, and a country designed to be a startup hub has been fighting it for a year. Something will have to give—either the war or the startup hub. We shall see which prevails.

This situation calls for more than just a new government; it requires a new economic model. Either way, even without the benefit of historical distance, it seems clear that we are witnessing the decline and fall of a world order that once gave us the welfare state and decades of prosperity. What will rise in its place remains to be seen.

I can try to make a political essay based on the lyrics of Taylor Swift but it may be a bit shorter, and limited to the passionate meeting of Ben Gvir with fascism after their break up.