Hey, I think that’s a wolf
Let us assume that one day a new sheep wanders its way into our barnyard. A particularly stunning sheep, but every animal in the barnyard is skeptical of the sheep’s presence because no one recognizes it. The sheep, aware of the discomfort being project from the other animals, retreats from the barnyard only to be spotted again the next day and every day after that until, eventually, the other animals in the barnyard are no longer surprised by our sheep’s presence. Eventually our stunning sheep is allowed to roam free and mingle with the other sheep in the barnyard. But, alias, something is amiss here because slowly the population of sheep begins to dwindle a little for no apparent reason. Our sheep, huddled together with other frightened barnyard sheep, however, shows no sign of fear and one can almost detect a slight smile behind its eyes. Eventually, the only sheep remaining in the barnyard are the strongest of the original flock and all seem to have a similar pattern of discoloration in their coats. The other animals in the barnyard begin to notice a change in the demeanor of the remaining sheep, almost bordering on constant agitation or aggression. Then, other animals from the barnyard start disappearing. Suddenly the chickens once again become skeptical of our originally wayward sheep and charge the unsuspecting animal. After a brutal furry of flying wool and feathers, the leader of the chickens cries “It’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
What happened one might ask? How could a wolf disguised as a sheep penetrate and cause so much havoc in our once peaceful barnyard? Could it be that our original wayward sheep, now unmasked to be a wolf in disguise, used rhetoric “to gain the advantage of one sort of another” (RM 60)? Did our sheep create Identification with the other sheep because they could identify with him because of his disguise and then were persuaded to follow toward a common interest? Could it be that by concealing or omitting parts of its substance through dissuasion by amplifying the false sheep outerwear the other sheep were deceived into action (RM 61, 69)? Or did our sheep “induce” the action of the other sheep through “neutralization” (making his entire meaning representative of the disguise) (RM 95-96)? Or was our wolf simply lonely and was only looking for a place to fit in and has now become the barnyard’s scapegoat? I’m not sure, but if you change the term “barnyard” to “German” or “Cuba” the reaction and interpretation may become different. What do you think?
Breaking the Metaphor?
But the real question is...is it the same big bad wolf that ate Little Red Riding Hood? C'mon, where's the ethos?
And what about the loyal sheepdogs, trained to sniff out any predators?
All kidding aside, I can agree that this kind of trickster rhetoric can make one person gain some kind of advantage over another, but Burke asks the question (and I must too) "as to whether advantage in general, or particular advantages are to be conceived idealistically, materialistically, or even cynically," (RM 61) and further, if this kind of advantage is individual, on the aim of a partisan group, or universal.
How would our parable look different based on those concerns?
I only pretended to be consubstantial with your sheepliness...
Because I really enjoy mutton. This kind of thing goes back to second grade. "You just used me for my Nintendo/pool/pony/permissive parent/cute older brother!" In this case the rhetor "fakes" consubstantiality and it is the kind of thing that happens all the time. In fact it makes me think of your earlier post about "B"; "B" often puts on its very old, outgrown suit of revolutionary clothing in order to identify with whatever "A" it needs to negotiate with at the present moment. I wonder, however, how long "B" can continue squeeze its fat frame into its antique war uniform and still be taken seriously?
Eventually that wolf will be too rotund from its many meals at the trough and on the sly to fit into that little sheepskin...