Such a set of beliefs, Deleuze and Guattari demonstrate, such a herd instinct, is based on the desire to be led, the desire to have someone else legislate life. The very desire that was brought so glaringly into focus in Europe with Hitler, Mussolini, and fascism; the desire that is still at work, making us all sick, today. Anti-Oedipus starts by reviving Reich's completely serious question with respect to the rise of fascism: 'How could the masses be made to desire their own repression?' This is a question which the English and Americans are reluctant to deal with directly, tending too often to respond: "Fascism is a phenomenon that took place elsewhere, something that could only happen to others, but not to us; it's their problem." Is it though? Is fascism really a problem for others to deal with? Even revolutionary groups deal gingerly with the fascisizing elements we all carry deep within us, and yet they often possess a rarely analyzed but overriding group 'superego' that leads them to state, much like Nietzsche's man of ressentiment, that the other is evil (the Fascist! the Capitalist! the Communist!), and hence that they themselves are good. This conclusion is reached as an afterthought and a justification, a supremely se//-righteous rationalization for a politics that can only "squint" at life, through the thick clouds of foul-smelling air that permeates secret meeting places and "security" councils. The man of ressentiment, as Nietzsche explains, "loves hiding places, secret paths and back doors, everything covert entices him as his world, his security, his refreshment; he understands how to keep silent, how not to forget, how to wait, how to be provisionally self-deprecating and humble." Such a man, Nietzsche concludes, needs very much to believe in some neutral, independent "subject"—the ego—for he is prompted by an instinct of self-affirmation and Jeff-preservation that cares little about preserving or affirming life, an instinct "in which every lie is sancti- fied." This is the realm of the silent majority. And it is into these back rooms, behind the closed doors of the analyst's office, in the wings of the Oedipal theater, that Deleuze and Guattari weave their way, exclaiming as does Nietzsche that it smells bad there, and that what is needed is "a breath of fresh air, a relationship with the outside world.