In contemporary discourse, we are increasingly confronted with a peculiar phenomenon: the denial of ideology in the very moment of its most aggressive assertion. This paradox is most evident in the popular claim that certain political or economic positions are “devoid of ideology.” Such claims are not merely erroneous; they are symptomatic of a deeper ideological function, one that conceals its own operations behind a façade of neutrality and objectivity.
To understand this, we must first recognize that the very notion of being “devoid of ideology” is itself an ideological position. It is not an absence but a presence—a presence that disavows itself, thereby rendering its influence all the more pervasive. The denial of ideology is perhaps the most insidious form of ideology, for it presents itself as the neutral ground of common sense, the universal vantage point from which all other perspectives are judged. By claiming to transcend ideology, it situates itself as the ultimate arbiter of truth, dismissing alternative views as mere deviations from the norm.
Consider, for instance, the rhetoric of being “pro-Western, pro-private property, and pro-tradition.” These positions are often presented as self-evident, as though they were the natural outcomes of reasoned thought rather than the products of specific historical and ideological developments. The “pro-Western” stance, in particular, is frequently articulated as a defense of civilization against barbarism, a bulwark of democracy and human rights. Yet, this position is deeply rooted in a Eurocentric narrative that obscures the colonial violence and exploitation upon which the so-called “West” was built.
To be “pro-Western” is, therefore, not merely to support a set of values but to endorse a historical trajectory that has systematically marginalized and oppressed non-Western cultures. It is to align oneself with an ideology that privileges the experiences and perspectives of the West, while dismissing or trivializing the experiences of others. This is not an objective stance but an ideological one, steeped in the legacies of imperialism and domination.
Similarly, the “pro-private property” position is often framed as a defense of individual freedom and economic efficiency. Yet, this framing ignores the deeply ideological nature of property rights themselves, which are not natural or self-evident but the product of specific social and legal arrangements. Property, in this context, is not merely a material possession but a social relation, one that is fundamentally about power and control. The defense of private property, therefore, is not a neutral stance but an ideological commitment to a particular mode of social organization—one that privileges capital over labor, the wealthy over the poor.
What is perhaps most striking about the “pro-private property” position is the way it conceals its own historical contingency. The idea that property rights are sacrosanct is a relatively recent invention, one that emerged in tandem with the rise of capitalism. By presenting this idea as timeless and universal, proponents of private property obscure the fact that it is an ideological construct, one that serves the interests of a specific class at the expense of others.
The invocation of “tradition” adds another layer to this ideological edifice. To be “pro-tradition” is often to resist change, to cling to established norms and values in the face of new challenges. Yet, tradition is itself a constructed category, one that is constantly being reinterpreted and reimagined. What is presented as “tradition” is often a selective memory, a nostalgic idealization of the past that ignores the complexities and contradictions of history.
The appeal to tradition, then, is not a neutral or apolitical act. It is an ideological move that seeks to legitimize existing power structures by invoking the authority of the past. By appealing to tradition, one is not merely defending a set of practices or beliefs but asserting a particular vision of society, one that privileges continuity over change, stability over transformation. This is an inherently conservative stance, one that resists the disruptions and dislocations of modernity in favor of a comforting, if illusory, return to a simpler time.
What these positions—pro-Western, pro-private property, pro-tradition—share is a common strategy of disavowal. Each claims to be devoid of ideology, yet each is deeply ideological in its own right. By denying their own ideological character, they seek to impose themselves as the natural, common-sense alternatives to more “ideological” positions. This is the ultimate ideological move: to present one’s own ideology as the absence of ideology, as the neutral ground upon which all others must be judged.
In this sense, the denial of ideology is itself a form of ideological mystification. It functions to obscure the power relations and historical contingencies that underlie supposedly “natural” or “neutral” positions. By claiming to be devoid of ideology, these positions reinforce the very ideological structures they purport to transcend. They naturalize what is contingent, universalize what is particular, and render invisible the operations of power that sustain them.
In conclusion, the rhetoric of being “devoid of ideology” is not merely a false claim; it is a profoundly ideological one. It serves to conceal the ideological underpinnings of certain positions, while simultaneously asserting them as natural and universal truths. To challenge this rhetoric is not simply to expose its falsity but to reveal the ideological structures that it seeks to obscure. In this way, we can begin to dismantle the ideologies that present themselves as ideology-free, and to uncover the hidden power relations that they seek to legitimize.