When every nuance can be discarded, everything is either black or white, reality, whosever it may be, has no place anymore. Grey is the only color that is truly there. Saying it is made up of black and white presupposes the existence of black and white. Nothing, however, has ever been completely clear, completely one thing. Grey is everywhere, grey overwhelms. Black and white are ideals, dreamt up to explain the existence of grey, to try to make sense of this all-encompassing mudded color that engulfs us all. Accepting this is hard, yet accept it we must.
Therein, perhaps, lies the appeal of radicalism: that every nuance can be discarded, every concession qualified as treason to the ideal.
Just as being in the majority does not lend your opinion the quality of truth, simply being in the minority does not mean that you are automatically right. Rebels might be wrong, the establishment might be the establishment for a reason. And let us not forget that the establishment of today was yesterday’s rebellion. What is important is that no side has the claim to absolute truth, no side is completely white, no side is completely black. Radicalism however is exactly that: taking the existence of white and black as a proven truth and claiming that white belongs to oneself. In this logic, saying the black side might be right in even the smallest way would be to soil the white robe in which one deems oneself draped.
That is the reason why one cannot reason with radicals, it is the reason every revolution has gone too far in its quest to keep its ideals pure from outside influence.
Messy. Everything. No escaping. If one gets those facts, the idea of purity cannot lead us to war anymore. War on purity instead!