The Terri Schiavo freak show is so deeply crazy, so unhinged, such a brew of religiosity and hypocrisy and tabloid sensationalism.1
It's all there. Contrary arguments are "crazy" and needn't be engaged. Religion is religiosity." Hypocrisy is this: juxtapose two facts, assume dishonesty, and you're set. Tabloid sensationalism is the other guy discussing a hot story; what Pollitt does is "debate."
She names names:
"I don't believe they [the antecedent is "Americans"] want Tom DeLay to be their personal physician."
Now, it's easy to imagine Tom DeLay, the Hammer, threatening, twisting arms, browbeating, calling in favors, forcing a bill through by one or two votes. But here, DeLay does not get paternity. The Congressional act ordering Federal judicial review of the case passed the House overwhelmingly, and the Senate without a single vote against. DeLay matters that much to Pollitt, not because he matters that much, but because she knows her audience. Medical questions come up in Congress all the time (Medicare, research, V.A. hospitals): can't any member of Congress be derided as "personal physician?" Better to save the sneer for the declasse bug-squasher from Texas.
Newt Gingrich makes the list. His offense was to call Ms. Schiavo by her first name. Such informality is something she claims "they" (Americans) don't want. But Gingrich himself is more often spoken of in public by his first than by his last name. And Pollitt herself - who only wants the woman dead, after all - feels free to call her "Terri."
And Senator Frist, she goes on, has "diagnose[d]" [Schiavo] by video."
Granted, Frist is a politician, making political points, and may deserve some distrust. But he is a practicing doctor (or in Pollitt's pompous preference, "physician"), and doctors can make diagnoses without being in the same room as the patient. Frist's diagnosis may be wrong, but it will take more than the word "video" to show that it is. 2
Jesse Jackson's there, too. A lot of The Nation's readership swooned for him when he ran for President in 1988; and a lot of that readership swooned for Ralph Nader in 2000. Jackson and Nader were on the same side here - they spoke up for prolonging Ms. Schiavo's life. In Pollitt's cropped picture, only Jackson is allowed to appear. She couldn't squeeze Nader into the "religious left" (scare quotes in original), or convincingly have him "pop in for a prayer." This was all about religious zealotry, and the many people on that side of the question who clearly had nothing to do with religion - in Pollitt's world, it just can't be.
And Randall Terry was guaranteed to show up, outside the hospice, and inside the column. A comparison with the Rev. Sharpton may be useful. Not even he expects everything he says to be taken seriously. Some causes he's embraced have been hoaxes. Some have been very real. Families that have lost someone to a mob or a police shooting have turned to him. He's the guy that's there for that kind of thing. You may question his motives or the families' judgment, but about the merits of each case, you know nothing up front. Pollitt throws out the name Randall Terry, who is a guy for this other sort of thing. Pollitt knows nothing up front, and she won't learn.
And there's Pollitt's find: "Scott Holdreth, a convicted sex offender who told an A.P. reporter that driving long hours to the hospital and getting arrested was all his 10- year-old son's idea. The least of it first: "all his 10-year-old son's idea." The word "all" conveys Pollitt's disbelief adequately; but it doesn't begin to justify it. What, at all, does she know about the man and his son and any conversations they ever had? "Convicted sex offender," though, is the supposed scoop. What kind of sex offender? One thinks immediately rapist. If he was that it was inept not to say so. If it was something less, it was less than honest not to specify. And what is this "sex offender" doing in Pollitt's column? Does she mean that he was typical of people outside the hospice? Should public demonstrations run background checks on participants, because a rap sheet or two invalidates the whole thing? At a time when the voting rights of felons are hotly contested, Pollitt has taken an extreme position: felons - assuming Holdreth is a felon - shouldn't have the right to an opinion.
For Pollitt, the Schiavo case is tied up with abortion. The connection is rather fanciful. She claims that the starving of and denial of water to Schiavo is a metaphorical abortion (and abortion is sacrosanct). But anything can be a metaphor for anything, as she would understand were she a less pedestrian writer. There is also some slippery-slope sentiment at work in her piece. Let the "religious right" and "its Republican friends" (i.e. the overwhelming, bipartisan majority of Congress) have their way on this, and it's on to a regimen of compelled pregnancies, of "mak[ing] women pay for sex with childbirth." (That Karl Rove, he plays a deep game of chess!) Sometimes this will lead to that, but not always, and not here. People are capable of making distinctions.
Pollitt even shows us people making distinctions. She notes that Tom DeLay took his father off life support and that Robert Schindler (Theresa Schiavo's father) took his mother off life support. Here, she intimates, is proof of hypocrisy. It is no such thing. Putting DeLay's name first was supposed to cinch it. Delay knows that pulling the plug is the right thing to do. Stringing the yahoos along here is to his political advantage. Robert Schindler is not a politician. But in Pollitt's logic, if DeLay is a proven hypocrite, so must Schindler be.
But, like people, let's make distinctions. The cases are not the same. Theresa Schindler Schiavo was never on life support, and this was never a right-to-die case. Suspect DeLay all you want (as long as you don't pretend to know). But Robert Schindler's willingness not to stretch out his mother's life lends his campaign here more credibility. That campaign was not the fruit of abstraction. Years spent with his daughter told him this was a life worth saving, a life necessary to be saved.
The particulars of the case, though, are of no interest to Pollitt. The woman at the center of the case gets the heave-ho from Pollitt, who just wants to talk about the usual villains and "John Q. Public" and "Cousin Jim," and Americans in general, helpfully defined in her second sentence as the people who "tell pollsters the earth was created in six days flat3 and dinosaurs shared the planet with Adam and Eve." And just about dead center in her piece, and the thing she really came to say is this:
"It's about time Americans woke up."
Theresa Schindler Schiavo had little chance of waking up. Little wonder, then that Pollitt would consign her to cinders with so little concern.
I
In the ordinary run of things, an article by Katha Pollitt would be a thing apart from any serious consideration of an issue. Here, however - and it is a disturbing thing - some of her attitude seems to have spread to others. The case for starving Theresa Schindler Schiavo went like this:
Terri Schiavo died 15 years ago. Her family, i.e. her husband, has cared for her during that time and has sought to effectuate her wish not be kept on life support. Other relatives have interfered. Nevertheless, courts have, in carefully crafted decisions, ordered that her wishes be respected. Recently, the Evangelical Right - a nascent theocracy - has mobilized around this non-issue. The Republican Party has signed on.
Justice prevailed, of course,. But the judiciary has become a target: its independence is threatened, and the physical safety of judges is at risk. Theocracy still looms.
It didn't happen that way, though.
The question whether it is legitimate to cut a life short - what's come up in right-to-die and assisted suicide cases - was not at issue here. The disagreement was less over legal principle than over Ms. Schiavo's condition. The justifications for speeding someone's death are basically these.
1. Death is inevitable and will come soon. If someone is allowed to die in one hour, instead of a day, or in a day, instead of ten, no harm has been done. Ms. Schiavo could have been sustained indefinitely.
2. The patient is in great pain. Ms. Schiavo had none.
3. The most discomfiting, and probably the commonest: Long-term and/or intensive care for a patient will work the financial ruin of a family. Here, the Schindlers were willing to cover the expenses (and there was money remaining from a judgment earmarked for Schiavo's long-term care).
Michael Schiavo, it was frequently said, proposed to take his wife off life support. She was not on life support. She was being fed through a tube. There were no machines performing organs' functions. "Life support" may be defined expansively, of course. But anyone with an oxygen tank, a pacemaker, an ampule of insulin in the refrigerator, an appointment at the dialysis center needs to be wary of such expansion.
There was nothing reassuring about Michael Schiavo. In the role of the devoted husband - his required role - he was not at all credible. (In the Lifetime movie of the week, who could play him? Tom Sizemore? Michael Madsden?) It's well-known, and apparently regarded as unimportant, that he lived with another woman whom he wanted to marry, and with whom he had two children. His wife was an obstacle - the only one - to his happiness, such as that was. Ending her life also made all her property his. Somebody who was a fiduciary for even $500 of somebody's money would be disqualified for far less. He, and he alone, was called "the family." Her natural family, against whom there were no claims of a conflicting interest, were treated as undesirables. 4 "Her family", i.e. her adulterous husband, swore that he was only carrying out her wishes. 5 It's true that she never said it in writing, in the form of a living will. Ultimately that absence wouldn't matter. On tv, it was often said that this was useful reminder, that everybody needed to see a lawyer right away. Most people would say, I think, thanks. Katha Pollitt, in her fatuous way, says that the young don't think to write out living wills. She has a living will, or means to get one; and the rest of the population is now on notice.
But no, according to Michael Schiavo, she said she wanted to cut things short. This, he alleged, happened after she saw a movie on tv about somebody on life support. Now, it happened that I had finished watching the first three seasons of Curb Your Enthusiasm just before the Schiavo story took over the news. Larry David is unusually fond of funerals as settings (true of many Seinfeld episodes, too). "Clear your mind of cant," said Samuel Johnson, and Larry David is here to expatiate. There's a very narrow range of what may be said in certain settings e.g. in the presence of the dead. If you hear of someone being horribly mangled, and more so if it's a presented in a movie, consider two responses. The first is the heartless, technocratic, unfeeling, unempathetic one. It talks about prostheses, wheelchairs, adjustment to a diminished life, reconstructive surgery. It sounds robotic - and it may be the only useful thing to be said. The other is the sensitive, caring, all-heart, ostentatiously human one. This is terrible. And I feel it deeply. I would stake my own life on it. Just kill me! An oral statement is not equivalent to a written authorization. The writing may reflect the author's wishes, but that is secondary. It confers a right on some other person, and how the author felt about it all is not of too much interest. It is surprising that a vacuous remark about a movie could be mistaken for the expression of anyone's deepest, most considered wishes; astonishing that it could be the basis for a death sentence.
Remember, too, that the alleged expression was fifteen years old. People can change their minds with time, and if they do, they can always tear up a document, or write a different one. A casual remark, which they are unlikely even to remember, how might it be revoked? Or consider this scenario: A candidate for a fellowship far excels any other candidate. But it is learned that when he was five, he said he wanted to be a cowboy when he grew up. The fellowship is denied him, for fear that he'd run off with the rodeo.
And the witness to the statement is Michael Schiavo, the most conflicted man in the world. Did she say it? Had he disclosed such a statement while he was seeking damages for his wife's condition (and making sworn statements to get those damages), he would likely have been awarded far less. Award in hand, Michael Schiavo came to regret his selfish desire to give her long-term care and hopes for rehabilitation. He would do the right thing: see her dead, and the quicker the better. 6
How explain (but not justify) the result? Trial courts are not commissions of inquiry. They adjudicate differences between this party and that. A Michael Schiavo, comes to court for permission to terminate his wife, seriously damaged, and unlikely to recover. He throws into the mix an alleged statement by his wife giving the go-ahead. The probate judge could go along, or declare the testimony perjurious - on what proof? - and tantamount to attempted murder (a subject outside his jurisdiction). The Schindlers, for their part, could not rebut Schiavo's claim: they weren't there. And appellate courts - they weren't there, either, in the courtroom - are barred, in just about every case, from upsetting findings of fact. The advocates for Terry Schiavo's death have rested a lot on Michael Schiavo's string of court victories. He hasn't been proven right again and again, only won a single dubious judgment, that inertially replicates itself.
Ms. Schiavo's death has had a lot of sugar-coating. After her starvation had begun, the media continued to talk about the hospice "where she was being cared for." Katha Pollitt complained about the "fanatics moaning [!] and praying outside the hospital while they [Pollitt's conception of plain folks] 're making hard decisions." The "hard decisions" made here were, of course, harder on some people than on others. And nobody was "making" hard decisions. Those decisions had been made long since and were being pursued remorselessly, with no evident agonizing or hint of a second thought. This was what she wanted, it was insisted. People want quick deaths, not two weeks (an index, by the way, of her vitality) without food or water. She felt nothing, yet she was given morphine. George Felos, Michael Schiavo's lawyer, and author of Litigation as Spiritual Practice, described her as "peaceful" and "beautiful." Dante, a somewhat more consequential poet than Katha Pollitt, has some lines on starvation. In Canto XXXIII of The Divine Comedy, Ugolino describes the death of his children
Pianger senti fra 'l sonno i miei figliuoli dimandar del pane
I heard my sons cry from out their sleep and plead for bread
E se non piangi, di che pianger suoli?
And if you do not weep, when will you weep?
When will you weep? Not, apparently, if the politics are not in order. There was nothing inherently left/right about the case. Conservative Republican judges ruled for Michael Schiavo. Politicians like Barney Frank opposed those rulings. (Pollitt: "The Dems 6 who mostly cowered.") Disability activists, from Not Dead Yet, were prominent outside the hospice (Pollitt: "freak show"). It was true, though, that most of the Right stood with the Schindlers. That was enough. In the mindlessness of Nation-style politics, it's always, "Gimme none of what he's having." The rulers of Afghanistan, Iraq, Sudan, whoever, wherever will be taken under a protective wing, and cooed over. The insurgents are doing just fine in Iraq and Michael Schiavo is Father of the Year. When Pollitt says that Jesse Jackson "seems not to have gotten the memo," she- altogether by accident - says something true.
The support of many religious people for the Schindlers won Michael Schiavo many adherents. There's a lot of talk of the Religious Right, "Christianists," "fundamentalists" (the moral equals of a Zawahiri), theocrats. Such could be found outside Theresa Schiavo's hospice. The larger crowd looked different.
The most noticeable group there - apart from the wheelchair-bound - were Roman Catholics, who are hardly evangelicals. For purposes of polemic, the Catholics were wished away. The evangelicals, for present purposes, made a better target. But there was nothing necessarily religious about wanting to spare Theresa Schiavo, and a number of people taking her side made a point of their absence of religious belief.
But grant (as you shouldn't) that religion was central to the Schindlers' position. So what? Abolitionism and the civil rights movement, it will be acknowledged came out of the churches. And, more recently, the toppling of the Taliban (Stop Bush's War on Women!) and the liberation of Iraq were preceded by many a prayerful hour at the
White House. This kind of thing is often found: A cleric who denounces an execution speaks truth to power; a cleric who denounces an abortion imposes religion. To raise the religious objection, as in the Schiavo case, is to reverse the order of argument. You must prove a position wrong before you can criticize its etiology - a separate argument to be made. There is no neat distinction between religious thought and other thought. Until recent times, the same people who did theology also did philosophy. Such fields as ethics, politics and anthropology were understood within a religious context, and they are not thereby any less philosophy. Take Hegel, if you will. His early writings were theological, and, famously, he made up part of the curriculum at divinity schools when Martin Luther King Jr. was studying. Even his more secular works are not innocent of religion. If Hegel is in hell, it might be for cheating the Holy Ghost of royalties.
A secular legal order is something all but a tiny minority believe in. A legal order purged of anything shared with religious tenets (Thou shalt not steal?) is not to be had, and not to be sought.
II
Late in the day, the legislative and executive branches of the United States combined in an effort to save Ms. Schiavo's life. They bumped into the Federal judiciary. That judiciary is a hot issue these days. Let's go into it. In 1803, in Marbury against Madison, John Marshall threw out a case brought under a Congressional act that purported to expand the original jurisdiction of the Supreme Court in violation of the plain meaning of Section 2 (2) of Article III of the United States Constitution. What is not plain anywhere in Article III, is the power of any Federal court to invalidate acts of Congress. English courts did not toss out acts of Parliament. Surely, if the Constitution afforded the Article II branch, the President, the limited power to undo the work of the Article I branch, the Congress, by veto, and did so expressly, it would have been more forthcoming about this extraordinary, unprecedented new power assumed by the Article III branch. Marshall writes, "It is emphatically the province and duty of the judicial department to say what the law is." Emphatically, it is not. How did he get away with it? First, the country's political institutions were a-building, and Marshall's reading was, if not definitive, at least not altogether implausible. Second, he was declining a case, not ruling on it. When George Washington asked the Supreme Court to render an advisory opinion, he was told they lacked jurisdiction. Better not to insist. Third, and most important, the result in Marbury was a congenial one to the Congressional majority that first heard it. Marshall's long, involved reasoning could be taken as ornamental. 7 Since then, the judiciary has received great deference. If courts can rule on the constitutionality of a statute, legislators are spared some work, and lifetime appointees can take some political risks - when they will - that elected officials prefer to avoid.
Let's distinguish three terms: judicial independence, judicial ultimacy, and judicial supremacy. Courts should be independent, in the sense that results shouldn't be pre-judged. There are limits on that independence. Just as Congress can't find someone guilty of a crime, a court can't impose a greater sentence than Congress has legislated.
And a judge's independence is not compromised because a jury's acquittal cannot be reversed. Independence properly means freedom from interference in carrying out proper judicial functions. Past that, whether it is courts declaring themselves beyond regulation or beyond criticism or, as the Supreme Court has recently done, pronouncing legislation "unwise" - it's a dishonest slogan.
Judicial ultimacy is just the idea that the fate of a law once it gets to the courts is what the courts make of it. Ultimacy, too, has it limits. A judicial interpretation unacceptable to a legislature will result in revised legislation. And as the judiciary is ultimate relative to the legislature, so the executive is ultimate relative to the judiciary. The executive usually does defer to the judiciary. But Lincoln's reading of Dred Scott is the great counter-example. He said the case bound only the parties to the case, and Roger Taney had no authority to extend it to anyone else. Had Taney opposed Lincoln on the point, it is not hard to picture (not unpleasant either) a couple of soldiers showing up at the Capital with an order from the President in hand, and escorting Roger Taney to a ship bound for exile.
Judicial supremacy is, essentially, a myth. The Supreme Court did not explicitly claim its rulings were "the law of the land" until the second half of the Twentieth Century. It is a doctrine not found in the Constitution itself and never ratified by either collateral branch. Judicial supremacy is harmless enough as a controversial hypothesis.
It becomes dangerous when it masquerades as judicial independence.
Those on Michael Schiavo's side are also on the side of such judicial "independence." "Terri's Law" directed the District Court in Florida to hear the Schiavo's case de novo. By way of comparison, a civil case in New York involving a few thousand dollars can be heard de novo after a verdict, as a matter of right. That the Congress could direct a Federal trial court to sit as a Federal trial court - this was not Marbury - would seem beyond dispute. The District Court disagreed. It refused to hear the case de novo, preferring to treat the case as an appeal and, predictably, it saw nothing irreversible. And its idea of a stay was not to keep the patient alive throughout the litigation, which was likely to be brief, but to keep her starving and dehydrated, on the fast track to the crematorium. The Federal appeals court, jeeringly, affirmed. The Supreme Court declined to hear the case. At least, we were spared a variant of "Three generations of imbeciles is enough."
In the left/right alignment of the Schiavo case, the judges opposing the will of, oh, the Worst President Ever and Tom DeLay and Randall Terry and that sex offender are the progressives. That many of the judges are known to be conservative Republicans is offered as proof of the extremism of "Terri's Law." The institutional solidarity of judges is imagined away. When judges are of one mind, who knows whether that mind is of the left or of the right? The knowing know.8 The Supreme Court (and by some illogical extension, all courts) acquired a halo more than a half-century ago. Little in its history presaged Brown vs. Board; nothing since has matched it. We may, for argument's sake, take Brown as more typical of the Court's practice than Scott against Sanford. Even so, the cult of the Supreme Court should look a little closer at Brown. The case was first argued during Fred Vinson's last term as Chief Justice. The preliminary vote was 6-3 to retain segregation. Earl Warren was to replace Vinson, so decision was reserved, and argument was rescheduled. Assuming a Court made up of learned jurists applying settled Constitutional principle, we would expect the vote in favor of separate-but-equal to be either 5-4 or 7-2. It was, of course, 9-0 to end segregation in the primary schools. Warren lobbied his associates effectively and insistently. Two aims of that lobbying stand out. First, segregation was a serious handicap for the United States in the prosecution of the Cold War; i.e., the immediate political situation outweighed the intent of the Congress that wrote the Fourteenth Amendment. Second, Warren only needed to flip one vote to get a 5-4 majority, but he saw a unanimous Court as necessary to secure compliance from a recalcitrant South. (When George W. Bush came back to Washington to sign "Terri's Law", of course, that was just grandstanding.) The main thing that the cult of the Supreme Court should understand is this: what Brown overturned was less the rule of a Kansas school board, than the "law of the land" as pronounced by the Supreme Court in the Nineteenth Century and affirmed over and over again in the Twentieth.
But there's more to it than Brown's warm afterglow.
"Progressives," who can't win elections (i.e., who are not the majority) turn to courts instead. It ought to be a bitter pill to rely on such anti-majoritarian institutions, but nobody seems bothered. There are costs, naturally. First, the vision of political action becomes this: small teams of professionals, preferably graduates of elite schools, funded by large fortunes, either directly or indirectly through foundations, win one-vote majorities of this or that appellate branch. The idea of democracy as the public life of a free people is, well, it'd be a freak show. The thought of a people once upon a time in Michigan, seizing their factories, making themselves at home there, fending off official violence, emancipating themselves, and all in open contempt of Federal injunctions - was it all just a dream?
Second, there is a cultural component. Any savage can run for office, and with enough votes, serve. The judiciary are the gatekept. Judges, with virtually no exceptions, are people in suits with graduate degrees. One is expected to stand in a judge's presence, etc., etc.
The gatekept may, in fact, often act more justly than the elected savage. But it is noxious to a democratic ethos to favor a politics that filters out the yahoos (also/known/as one's fellow citizens).
III
It's been said that the Schiavo case was a major defeat for the "right." Don't be so sure. People are said to have rallied around the judiciary in the face of extremism. Tom DeLay has threatened to impeach judges. Except he hasn't, and he's not a Senator, and nobody's getting impeached, and it is not beyond the pale to mention constitutionally prescribed measures. The spectre of violence is raised. The family of a Federal judge in Illinois was killed, and a state judge in Georgia, along with other court employees, was killed. In the first case, the killer was a disappointed litigant, in the second, a desperate criminal defendant. Neither had any political affiliations. The lesson: This is where criticism of the courts leads, and why it must stop now. (By contrast, at a time when one man has confessed to participation in a plan to fly a jet into the White House, and another man has been indicted in Virginia for planning to kill George W. Bush with a car bomb, nobody has suggested that it is out of order to criticize the Chimperor.)
A few public opinion polls have been offered as evidence for a backlash against the alleged overreaching of the far right. An ABC poll showed a majority favoring Michael Schiavo's position - but the question wrongly included the words "life support." Time's poll showed a similar majority - but the question took this form: The Schindlers'
say x. Michael Schiavo says y. The judge ruled for Michael Schiavo. Who do you like? On the other hand, a Zogby poll showed 79% favoring the Schindlers' position. Howard Dean has said he means to "use" this case in 2006 and in 2008. It's unlikely to do him any good. Those who regard the resolution of this case as an occasion for gloating, are, whatever a flawed poll or a perfect Katha Pollitt might say, few, and their victories ought to be few. And the untimely death of Teresa Schindler Shivao is, for the small, a small victory.
--------
Notes
1 If only she had been talking about Feb. 15, 2003!
2 By contrast; Howard Dean retired from medical practice years ago (and what a waste of a bedside manner that is!). But out on the campaign trail, would slip the smock on again and treat his audience to his recovered memories of innumerable minors he saw in his practice impregnated by their fathers.
3 This little word "flat" tells us a lot about Pollitt. There are some people who believe the Creation account in Genesis is literally true, some who believe it is literarily true, some who think it's all nonsense. Has anyone ever said, "I could believe God made the world, but in just six days? Come on, it'd take a least a coupla months."
That Pollitt presumably credits some sort of non-theistic Big Bang theory shows her snideness about "six days flat" even sillier.
With Pollitt, there's no reasoning. "Flat" is just attitude. The rest of her sentence says that she disdains this canaille. "Flat" says, No, I really disdain it.
4 It is possible to sympathize with the man in a noirish, all-too-human perspective. He's got an unconscious wife, no good to herself, and to him nothing but a burden. And he's got a whole contraband family. He wants out. Of course, the lightest breath of that sympathy is also the whirlwind that carries all the public posturing away, and no one knows where. [Or more blandly he's moved on. But if he's moved on, he's no longer her family.]
5 Assume even it was her wish. She had no need to die now. The need was all his, and even a living will would have given him authorization but now commanded him to let her die.
Supporters of Michael Schiavo like to imagine that if only Terri had five minutes of full consciousness and the full use of her hands, she'd surely sign a living will. Isn't it at least as likely that she'd sign a divorce petition?
6 "Dems"? Is it the proud full sail of her great ego that has her referring to the Democrats in such a chummy, breezy way, even as she slanders them? Dems is acceptable in a headline, where mordancy (not something Katha Pollitt does) is prized. "Dems" in this context is just vulgar, and not in a good way.
7 Twenty years later, in Johnson against M'Intosh, a parcel of land in today's Midwest had been sold by a local Indian tribe and also sold as United States property (the title claimed by James I had passed to the U.S.). Marshall ruled that the claim of the United States would prevail. He wrote "these claims have been maintained as far west as the river Mississippi, by the sword. It is not for the courts of this country to question the validity of this title."
Where the sword was drawn, it would be impolitic for him to oppose.
Judges have the last word as they have careers: only during good behavior.
8 Some further left/right commentary: The New Republic and The Nation
(!) ran articles expressing some nervousness about the privileging of courts. Charles Krauthammer and Ted Olson came to the defense of the judiciary.
We wore felt hats
That took a month to buy
In small installments
Shiny Florsheim or Stacy Adams shoes
Carried our dancing gait
And flashed our challenge
Breathing our aspirations into words
We harmonized our yearnings to the night
And when old folks on porches dared complain
We cussed them out
under our breaths
And walked away
and once a block away
Held learned speculations
About the character of their relations
With their mothers
It’s true
That every now and then
We killed each other
Borrowed a stranger’s car
Burned down a house
But most boys went to jail
For knocking up a girl
He really truly deeply loved
really truly deeply
But was too young
Too stupid, poor, or scared
To marry
Since then I’ve learned
Some things don’t never change:
The breakfast chatter of the newly met
Our disappointment
With the world as given
Today,
News and amusements
Filled with automatic fire
Misspelled alarms
Sullen posturings and bellowed anthems
Our scholars say
Young people doubt tomorrow
This afternoon I watched
A group of young men
Or tall boys
Handsome and shining with the strength of futures
Africa’s stubborn present
To a declining white man’s land
Lamenting
As boys always did and do
Time be moving on
Some things don’t never change
And how
back in the day
Well
things were somehow better
They laughed and jived
Slapped hands
And called each other “Dog”
Copyright C 2004 Lorenzo Thomas - Permission to reprint “Back in the Day” granted by Coffee House Press, Minneapolis.
What's the Matter with Kansas? is one of those books passed around and recommended by friends to explain the continuing rightward lurch of the USA, and Thomas Frank himself, funny in person as well as in print, appears to be the keynote speaker at all conferences to the left of the DLC. Besides the fact that what he's saying is true, Frank's thesis gains traction because he comes across as having genuine affection for the working class pro-life, creationist activists he profiles. Briefly put, Frank sees his native Kansas as the prototype for a nationwide right wing forged by the corporate class accommodating itself to anti-elite culture-issue voters kept at a boil since the Democratic Party abandoned economic issues that matter to working people. Kansans lose ground while taxes are cut, the rich grow richer, and ambitious politicians take the corporate cash and learn to use God-centric lingo.
I think it's a great book, short and entertaining enough to loan to a friend; not the kind of book that should be scrutinized for a tightly reasoned academic argument. But it does leave itself open to one line of attack: isn't this just a fancy new version of the old left "false consciousness" line? Isn't Frank saying that if the anti-evolution school board activists really knew what they really really wanted, they'd be joining the Communist Party, oops, er, um, reading The Nation?
Actually, Frank believes the working class of Kansas has been abandoned by the left, with nowhere to turn but activism drained of any economic interpretation, and suggests the anti-evolution activists may be Pentecostal Abbie Hoffmans, cooking up new ways to freak out the snobs. Still, there is a whiff of the false consciousness argument here, because Frank leaves the impression that religion is something people turn to when the role of business is removed from their politics. So right-wingers can dismiss him as just another secularist trying to reimpose his atheistic world-view on the faithful. Kansas is too good a book to allow that attack to succeed. In defense, I would offer the following CDs and books to elaborate beyond Frank's basic argument.
Iris DeMent occupies the same musical space between country and folk as her occasional touring and singing partner John Prine. Sometimes this is called Americana, or Roots music, and DeMent can out-rootsy anyone, but she has irked the taste police of this tasteful genre by lurching from old-timey backed confessional insight to folk-rock social critiques to a whole pile of old hymns (and one self-penned song about Jesus) on her latest album Lifeline. Folkies may recognize a couple of these from the Joan Baez repertoire; some are songs we sing with the words changed at my liberal Protestant church on Sunday. But DeMent achieves a kind of miracle. She skips the smug satisfaction and washed-out enervation of much white Christianity as well as the hats-off-to-mama obligatory nod of country stars' occasional sacred albums. Instead, she sings like her life depends on it, the Okie Aretha, with a desperation we usually attribute to black gospel music, as if the music is indeed a lifeline.
What's this got to do with Thomas Frank? Iris is on the left; check out "Wasteland of the Free" on her CD The Way I Should. Sample stanza: "We got CEO's makin' 200 times the workers' pay/ But they'll fight like hell against raisin' the minimum wage/ And if you don't like it mister/ They'll ship your job to some third world country ‘cross the sea/ And it feels like I'm living in the wasteland of the free." But she inhabits the same secular, well, wasteland as those anti-evolution activists in Kansas, with many of the same cultural reference points. As Iris sings it, the quest for meaning and personal grounding in a de-industrialized, globalized, brutalized consumer culture can turn to tradition without turning towards intolerance. "These songs aren't about religion," she writes in the liner notes. "At least for me they aren't. They're about something bigger than that."
This is doubly important because the secular white left sometimes "allows" African-Americans a spirituality considered out of date or out of bounds for Euro-Americans. Everyone from John Kerry to Alexander Cockburn practices this weird double standard, where a political position intertwined with religion is tolerated from blacks but not from whites. That's the open playing field George W Bush runs in for his frequent touchdowns. If only Blacks can mix politics and traditional religion on the left, then when a white person works that angle, they must be on the right. Not true, sings Iris.
This is dangerous terrain. With that cat out of that bag, we might have something in common with those anti-abortion activists out in Wichita. James M. Ault Jr. explores this possibility in Spirit and Flesh, a description of his time spent researching a right-wing born-again Christian church down the Turnpike from his home in Northampton, Massachusetts.
There are a number of things to like about the book, besides the fact that it takes everyone seriously as human beings. For one, these Falwellites live and worship in ultra-liberal western Massachusetts; this red state is in the next town. For another, Ault lets you watch him shuffle between them and his post-modern academic buddies over at Brown. (Guess who comes across as the more intolerant?) By book's end, Ault, a lapsed Methodist has even been inspired by his born-again friends and becomes . . .a liberal Episcopalian! Holy connection!
Ault parses out how the religion actually works in the working class lives of the congregation. For instance, the sex role differences backed up by Bible verses that seem retrograde to outsiders in the professions are used within the community to increase interactions between husband and wife. The emphasis on family sustains extended families that are the crucial safety net; the sexual morality is applied with more elasticity than the rhetoric suggests.
Taking this one last step in American Jesus, Stephen Prothero shows us the salesman Jesus, the Black radical Jesus, the reform Jew Jesus, the biker Jesus, the sexually ambiguous Jesus, the Muslim Jesus and suggests that something in our culture or political structure, (maybe the absence of a state religion), requires a mediating metaphor. If true, Thomas Frank's fellow Kansans are onto something, and it might be better to acknowledge that and work out the differences from there rather than jumping off from an a priori "Are you out of your f. . . . . . . mind?" Those of us lucky enough to experience inspiring political movements know that engagement can be fulfilling without being, to use the current phrase, faith-based. But trying to re-establish some sacred space in a world drained of meaning by corporate culture shouldn't be left to those who can only pull towards reaction.
Iris DeMent knows it isn't easy, but show's that it's possible, even necessary. The art of her singing manages to locate and highlight the psychological payoff inside the idiom of traditional southern white Gospel music. But the urgency in her voice leaves an open question. Is this the sound of someone reclaiming a tradition, or the sound of a tradition being ripped away from the Left for good? Thomas Frank lays out what happened in Kansas. Is Ohio next?
This Black Curtain's divide is not economic or moral but cultural. And unless one is sensitive to the deprivations black youth face, the Black Curtain is virtually invisible because the black youth behavior that popular culture frequently displays cannot be easily distinguished from what admirably, and naturally, defines black American lifestyles. Like the Iron Curtain Winston Churchill described at the end of World War II, hiphop's Black Curtain cuts off a real segment of the population, exerting influence and control over a group's aspirations. The habits and achievements of these children of capitalism are not autonomous; they have come to fit a pattern, reflecting the commercial conventions of the day.
Behind this Black Curtain, anything that pertains to black segregation is considered acceptable, whether it is an intrinsic style of speaking, singing, dancing, dressing--or unlearning or lassitude or fecklessness. Just ask a ruthless and wealthy entrepreneur like Def Jam/Rockafella's Damon Dash, a privileged spokesman for the marketable deprivations of black youth culture. The less-fortunated are perpetually teased by Success such as Dash lives out. The myth of the American Dream is embodied--celebrated--by black-face revenants from Russell Simmons and P. Diddy to Queen Latifah and Eve. A generation of media consumers remains in the straits between their subculture and mainstream culture.
Hiphop's prominence results from a collision between prideful black nationalism and Reagan-era capitalism. Who knew the fall of Communism would coincide with a new, homegrown Balkanization? Both the Civil Rights Era ideal of advancement through integration and the race man/woman's vision of black solidarity have been subsumed by avarice. "We Shall Overcome" has been replaced by the imperative "Do What You Gotta Do." This development was underscored by comedian Chris Rock while hosting the MTV Video Awards. Following a performance by Snoop Dogg and his mentor Don "Magic" Juan who hoisted a pimp's chalice in salute to the chorus line of half-clad, vixenish sisters parading in front of a global audience of viewers, Rock ad-libbed, "Isn't it wonderful to see Dr. Martin Luther King's dream come true?" Here are several recent moments in our hiphop era's waking nightmare.
1
Chris Rock's obnoxious performance at this year's Academy Awards ceremony was what African Americans down South describe as "showing your ass." The mainstream media responded differently, praising Rock for being "edgy," because it was content with the liberal condescension to which Rock caters. Typically, Rock will angle his stand-up comedy routine to ridicule black culture and black behavior, justifying cultural stigma and racist stereotype. This has won him acclaim as "The Funniest Man in America" in a Vanity Fair cover story (a rare exception to its white cover conventions). Rock also received a featured profile in the New York Times Magazine; one of the story's anecdotes recounted how even white officers at a police precinct in the notoriously racist Staten Island proclaimed Rock as their favorite comedian.
The Oscars confirmed Rock's mainstream approval. His hosting gig was praised in advance as a social advance, elevating Rock from his neo-chitlin' circuit/hiphop subculture. Fact is, Rock's precedent set back the progress of black performers by demonstrating how easily success in mainline culture can be had if one lacks principles. His presumed "edge" was to seem outside Hollywood corruption while simultaneously being all up in it. Rock's tactless, unfunny jokes (against left pariahs George Bush, Mel Gibson and box-office failures Jude Law, Colin Farrell) got great reviews from pundits because he displayed enmity for the incorrect and mocked momentarily disgraced celebrities.
Rock's comic specialty should be properly recognized as "punk"--not in the sense of British pop music rebellion but in the long-standing American sense of bratty yet cowardly behavior. (He joined the Hollywood mob against Bush and Gibson and kicked Law and Colin at career low-points.) In the now unfashionable sense of ethnic accountability, this can be called: selling out.
In the most high-profile moment of Rock's career, he brazened "blackness" while misrepresenting it. The pretense of black folks' advancement--further promoted by the Oscars' celebration of Jamie Foxx's performance as Ray Charles--is what's most troubling about Rock's new status. (In 1969, film critic Pauline Kael bemoaned Hollywood's exclusion of black pop performers: "Hollywood did more with Fats Waller in the 40s than it has done with Ray Charles and Aretha Franklin throughout the 60s." She pointed out the reality of cultural racism that has not changed despite the current heroicizing of Charles and Rock's recent ordination.) Selling-out means Rock can accept Hollywood's blandishments without having to reject its racism.
Rock's "progress" is facetious. He actually upholds cultural stigma. That was clarified by his disgraceful Oscar segment taped at a Magic Johnson movie theater in Compton, CA. Rock's shtick was to show the Oscars were out of touch with movies that "real people" (black ghetto folk) enjoy. But he manipulated the skit to show only those blacks who went to stereotypical exploitation films like White Chicks, Saw and Soul Plane. He left out blacks who went to Million Dollar Baby and The Aviator, as well as those whites (or any one else) who went to Soul Plane and White Girls. Rock fostered the racist notion that all black folks think alike and enjoy the same dumbed-down entertainment. He appealed to white racist ignorance by excluding other ethnic groups (and their varied, surprising, democratic range of taste) from his jokey film culture essay. Rock's basic message--as usual--was: Yes, blacks deserve to be stereotyped negatively.
2
Tyra Banks' reality tv series America's Next Top Model is the best of the prime time shows that pretend documentary realism but are really sweepstakes contests. Banks offers her young female contestants the carrot of extending their 15 minutes of fame. But more importantly, she gives viewers a helpful look at the competitive nature of American big business (plus the insight that fashion and entertainment are indeed parts of big business). Producer-creator-host Banks--perfectly named--is one of the few contemporary Black pop figures to balance her pride of accomplishment with social consciousness. She ensures that ANTM is also a civics lesson. The show's biggest revelation came in the episode where the most feckless black contestant declared: "My mother and grandmother are not ghetto but I choose to be ghetto."
When the stubborn fashion-industry hopeful refused to participate in the show's games then laughed off her failure, Banks exploded. She berated the girl with the full indignation of the previous generation of African American strivers. Banks nailed young blacks who angrily defy social strictures without summoning the energy to accomplish worthwhile goals. P. Diddy's Making the Band series for MTV, by contrast, embraces those ingrates' attitude of entitlement. Diddy's show is built on arrogant tantrums, which he manufactures. While Banks' preferable program offered rare, raw proof of illiteracy and rascality (hiphop era defiance) chosen as a kind of life-style option, ANTM condemns this dire social development; Banks instructs her young charges rather than exploiting them Diddy-style. Though glamorizing the competition for fame and riches, she manages to shine a light through the fog of caste.
3
Ossie Davis' funeral marked the end of the Civil Rights Era's Old Guard. This solemn occasion illuminated the existence of the Black Curtain more than even the controversy over Bill Cosby criticizing the failures of modern black parenting. Davis' passing was mourned by a retinue of elderly, unfashionable cultural figures, even a retired American President (Bill Clinton surprisingly quoting Nina Simone). It was a rare public demonstration of blacks and whites who shared a social vision that's fading. Actor Burt Reynolds' confession, "Ossie Davis took the bad part of the white south out of me," was humble, loving, familial--a startling contrast to the cartel-brotherhood modeled by Eminem, Dr. Dre and 50 Cent.
With each testament to Davis's now unfashionable political drive and ethical stance, the line of obsequies (from Attala Shabazz's personal memories to Alan Alda's professional recall), began to resemble a parade of shattered hopes. As a tv broadcast--indicative of America's consciousness--it seemed anomalous amongst the game shows and celebrity marathons regularly televised. Although it was "live," it was also sur-reality tv--and saddening for its evidence of social decline.
In Black gospel parlance, a funeral is called a "home-going;" the perspective meant to revitalize mourners suffering through their time of loss. But a cultural leader's funeral marks a larger moment of transition; it is more than a personal tragedy. The author of Purlie Victorious (the satire about an itinerant 1960s Black preacher finally overthrowing the remnants of Jim Crow) and the man whose oration designated Malcolm X "Our black shining prince" demonstrated an awe-inspiring accountability to the future. Davis epitomized the 60s moment when activists not only had a sense of duty, but felt anxiety lest they fall below the level of achievement that would uplift their people, and move the whole wide world up a little higher. Davis believed in culture that edified and sustained his people, while affirming their claim upon society. But today the claim has narrowed into the covetousness that pop entrepreneurs now cultivate to tease--and delimit--their audience's aspirations. Laissez-faire capitalism and laissez-faire democracy are the bulwarks of the Black Curtain. Davis' funeral is the perfect moment to realize hiphop's confusion of doing well with doing good. As a result, hiphop culture's demand for black folks' acceptance and prosperity by any means necessary has unwittingly become a barrier to their empowerment.
]]>No Half-Stepping
By Lawrence Goodwyn
This is the most important election in the country since 1936 and poses the same question: what kind of America will emerge from the economic and cultural wars of the immediate on-coming generations. In the very short-run, the government's "faith based initiative" offers the prospect of federal money to help churches fund local humanitarian programs, a hand in hand effort reciprocated by energetic get-out-the-vote campaigns staffed by the rank and file of cooperating churches. Emerging in the same fortnight is a local (and perhaps even statewide) vote suppression initiative such as the one this week that generated a march on the Republican Supervisor in Madison, Wisconsin. This gentleman responded to the sharp increase in voter registration in inner city wards by declining citizen requests to increase the number of printed ballots.
The premature unveiling of this kind of limp civic consciousness on the part of the Bushites is actually fairly small potatoes compared to the vast electronic opportunities for fraudulent vote counting opening up as a result of the appearance of thousands of new "touch" voting machines across the land-housed as many of them are in unreliable political structures such as, to name one, Jeb Bush's Florida.
In what might aptly be called "experientially grounded expertise," Ronnie Dugger, founder and continuing spirit behind the liberal Texas Observer, has been going around the country in an effort to sensitize competent computer specialists, non-complacent lawyers, and relevant others as to the dangers of November vote frauds by people who are self-consciously determined to "change the culture" of America. The well-timed corporate giveaway in Congress in mid-October is merely a small piece of cement in the evangelical-corporate-frontiersman ethos that has become the "mainstream" of the neo-conservative party. Those who think Tom DeLay has "overstepped" himself lately do not understand the stakes here: Oversteppiing is the game.
The Republican negotiators charged with setting the ground rules for the presidential debates made a serious mistake when they endeavored to protect themselves and the President against having too lengthy a period of time allocated for extemporaneous replies. When they settled for one-and-a-half minutes, they were unwittingly forcing their cautious, thoughtful and polysyllabic Democratic opponent to be clear in the name of being concise. The shift in cadence transformed Kerry as a national campaigner. The clear-cut Kerry victory wiped out Bush's lead and appears to have brought the presidency within reach. The challenge now is to protect the victory. This absolutely includes making systematic plans to have in place a massive popular response in the event of "overstepping." After all, the neo-conservatives are right: what is at stake is the political culture of the country.
October 14, 2004
Word Up
By Casey Hayden
I heard somewhere recently the dictionary definition of fascism has been altered. It now focuses narrowly on abridgements of civil liberties and other oppressive actions by a government. Before, the definition invoked regimes where government and corporate power collaborated to command a country's economy. The loss of clarity here this abrasion of our language makes it more difficult to describe the actual conditions the Republican Party's far right has generated.
The Dean campaign's capacity to generate new sources of funding for the Democratic Party was hopeful. It's a prerequisite for the emergence of a new politics capable of confronting the current situation. As long as the Democrats get their money from the same sources as the Republicans... However, I'll be voting for John Kerry.
September 29, 2004
It Can Happen Here
By Greil Marcus
With all the latest polls showing Bush solidifying his position in state after state, either taking Pennsylvania and Florida from Kerry by small margins or increasing leads in Wisconsin, Ohio, Missouri, and Virginia - all state supposedly up for grabs a week ago - I don't think I have any thoughts that far from what others, from Joe Klein to Joe Conason, are saying. I can offer this passage from Sinclair Lewis's 1935 "It Can't Happen Here" about the election of Senator Buzz Windrip, running on a platform of fascist dictatorship, as president in 1936. With the Depression still ruling the country, he ran as a Democrat, having taken the nomination from FDR, who denounced Windrip as a fraud and formed the Jeffersonian Party; the Republicans nominated the liberal Senator Walter Trowbridge:
The conspicuous fault of the Jeffersonian Party, like the personal fault of Senator Trowbridge, was that it represented integrity and reason, in a year when the electorate hungered for frisky emotions, for the peppery sensations associated, usually, not with monetary systems and taxations rates but with baptism by immersion in the creek, young love under the elms, straight whisky, angelic orchestras heard soaring down from the full moon, fear of death when an automobile teeters above a canyon, thirst in a desert and quenching it with spring water.
September 15, 2004
What's Love Got to Do With It?
By Mike Rose
There was a remarkable moment in former New York mayor Rudy Giuliani's speech at the Republican National Convention, a moment I keep turning over and over in my mind. It had to do with love. About half-way through the speech - after praising George Bush's leadership in responding to 9/11 and before an affirmation of the Bush foreign policy doctrine - Giuliani offers the following scene.
Bush is visiting ground zero and is soon surrounded by "big, real big" construction workers. Their "arms are bigger than [Giuliani's] legs, and their opinions are even bigger than their arms." Using language that Giuliani "can't repeat", one of the men begins speaking with deep feeling about the attackers to Mr. Bush, and then "embraced the president and began hugging him enthusiastically." Giuliani completes the moment by observing this was an act of love.
I don't know this worker, so I can only imagine what feelings must have been churning inside him, seeking some kind of meaningful expression. And suddenly here before him stands the president of the United States. At ground zero. Overwhelming.
What troubles me, though, what I can't shake, is the use of that moment by Giuliani - and similar moments by other Republican strategists and speechwriters - to certify George Bush's deep bond with working people. Giuliani describes the construction worker with genial humor, but if you think about it, the portrait is pretty stereotypical: the big, patriotic hard hat. Joe Sixpack. The working men and women I grew up with were strong, yes, and loyal to country, but they were much more. Smart and skeptical, for starters.
Think, for a moment, of all that you won't see in these GOP portraits. You won't see the female cannery worker with injured hands or the guys at bitter loose ends when the factory closes. You won't see people, exhausted, shuttling between two (or more) jobs to make a living or the anxious scramble for minimal health care for their kids. And you sure won't see people organizing to improve their working lives.
What a funny kind of love it is that undercuts unions, erodes workplace health and safety regulations, opposes increases in the minimum wage, changes overtime rules. The invocation of love at ground zero - and the replaying of the image - mystifies things terribly. Emotion trumps fact: the awful Republican record on working America. God forbid that the fellow embracing Bush develops, as so many have, serious respiratory disease. He won't find the administration's policies hospitable to his plight. He'd better seek instead the much-maligned trial lawyer.
American workers don't need love from their government, especially this funky seduction. They need opportunity. They need an understanding of their struggles. They need an appreciation of the skill and intelligence they bring to their work. They need enough respect for that intelligence that they're provided with facts rather than emotion. They need the protections of the secure workplace, of the fair wage, of the union contract. They don't need a one-way romance, the administration taking the embrace, but returning a deadly kiss.
October 4, 2004
[Mike Rose is author of The Mind at Work: Valuing the Intelligence of the American Worker (Viking, 2004) www.mikerosebooks.com.]
Don't Mourn...
By Steve Sleigh
Which side are you on? The election of 2004 provides workers with a stark choice. George W. Bush and the extreme right Republican record on issues of concern to working people speaks for itself.
Bush's lopsided tax cuts gifted millionaires with an average tax break of $136,398 while middle-income earners made do with an average of $652 (which often failed to cover increases in state and city taxes). Bush cut overtime pay for 6 million workers; looked away as health care costs doubled in four year (and 45 million Americans struggled to get by without health insurance), proposed giving $60 billion to companies that lay off American workers while outsourcing work overseas, and urged Americans to dream on about our ("feeling stronger everyday") economy as nearly 2 million manufacturing jobs were eliminated over the past four years. Democrats (and even some Republicans) have drawn attention to many of Bush's failings on the economic front. But his assault on workers' organizations has been less visible though it's deeply dispiriting to people who depend on wages or salaries for their income. In early 2001 workers at United Airlines exercised their right to strike after more than two years of unsuccessful attempts to reach agreement through negotiations. The Bush administration, at the request of United, intervened on the side of the Company to keep workers from using their weapon of last resort: not working!
Later that same year the Longshoreman's union on the West Coast struck the ports of California, Oregon, and Washington. The longshoreman's strike paralyzed shipments to and from Asia, putting a serious crimp in the global economy. The Bush administration couldn't stand for that and declared a national emergency, forcing the workers back to work and seriously compromising their bargaining power.
Throughout the past four years organized labor has been unwelcome at the White House and, for the most part, at the Department of Labor. In fact, the Department of Labor issued new, punitive measures that require all unions to provide public reporting on their operations that would send corporate America into cardiac arrest. Republican appointees in the Department of Labor seem to be laboring under the illusion that those corporate scandals that robbed American workers and shareholders alike at Enron, World Com, Tyco, and on and on, were caused by unions! Recent polling and experience indicate that Kerry will receive around 65% of the vote from union members and their immediate family members. The union influence extends to about 25% of the electorate. The real problem for Kerry and the Democrats is their inability to articulate a coherent economic program that addresses the concerns of American workers. The party that brought workers NAFTA and the WTO (the Democrats) needs to shift gears and get back on the side of working people. When they do that, we will have something to celebrate!
September 29, 2004
[Steve Sleigh is Director of Strategic Resources for the International Association of Machinists and Aerospace Workers.]
No Lunatic
By Ellen Willis
As I write this, in the wake of the first Bush-Kerry debate, the Cheney-Edwards debate, and polls showing that the race has tightened again, my predictive powers fail me. I have no idea ‹ or rather I can make an equally plausible argument either way ‹ if on November 2 American voters will give the present rogue regime a license to run amok for four more years or choose to return, temporarily at least, to neoliberal business as usual. Nor do I know if the election results will be decisive enough to satisfy some basic notion of legitimate government, or whether various kinds of fraud and bullying compounded by unrecountable votes on electronic machines will throw the political system into chaos. But whatever the outcome, one thing is clear: inside or outside the Democratic Party, there is no effective opposition to the Republican right; and therefore the country's rightward march will continue ‹ either with a recklessness that will further destabilize the U.S. economy and move the world in the direction of apocalyptic catastrophe, or at a slower, more responsible pace. My personal campaign slogan, "John Kerry: Not a Lunatic," about sums it up.
The Democrats are a party in chronic crisis, a condition that will be easier to deny if Kerry is elected but will not go away. Their dilemma, which dates back at least to the Carter administration and has gotten steadily more untenable in the intervening years, begins with the determination of the Democratic leadership to distance itself from the legacy of the New Deal and the cultural revolt of the `60s and fashion a party of the neoliberal center-right‹a party that will, in essence, further the agenda of corporate globalization. The "new Democrats" support unregulated markets, unrestricted trade, privatization, the shrinking of public goods and entitlements, and lowering taxes on corporations and the wealthy, but they are also cautious and "realistic" in both domestic and foreign affairs. As they see it, moves toward a free market economy must be accompanied by palliatives to reduce the economic dislocation (and potential political turmoil) they cause; deficit spending is irresponsible; making the global economy safe for investment demands international cooperation, choosing one's battles carefully, and promoting stability above all.
The problem with this program, from the standpoint of winning elections, is that while it reflects the interests of powerful elites, it expresses no moral or social vision that might engage the public's imagination and therefore has no mass constituency whatsoever. Indeed, the neoliberals, with their top-down philosophy, are deeply uncomfortable with mass mobilization of any sort. Yet the party still depends on the votes of liberals and "progressives" as well as the money and activism of labor unions and liberal organizations, which it must manage to hang onto despite its repeated and predictable betrayals. In a further irony, by collaborating with Republican conservatives in isolating the left, the neolibs have succeeded in shrinking their own electoral base.
So far the party leadership ‹ with considerable help from the ultra-right in general and George W. Bush in particular ‹ has done an excellent job of keeping its left flank in line by mixing bits of vaguely populist rhetoric with the argument that its brand of "moderation" is the only practical alternative to the right-wing bogeyman. But to win in the circumstances they themselves have helped create, Democrats also have to change the minds of people who vote Republican or lure to the polls people who don't normally vote at all, and neoliberalism has little intrinsic appeal for either group.
In 1988 Dukakis lost less because he was a "Massachusetts liberal" than because he presented himself as a technocrat who thought the election was about "competence, not ideology": competence was no match for Willie Horton. In 1992, the party cobbled together a victory from a chancy confluence of factors‹a particularly charming candidate (whose informal "unpresidential" demeanor and lack of foreign affairs or military credentials were not the disqualifiers they would be now), an incumbent who seemed passionless and disengaged, a religious right that came across as punitive and scary at the Republican convention, a third-party candidate who cut into the Republican vote, and a lousy economy, stupid. In 2000 Gore's anemic neoliberal campaign resulted in an election so close as to come down to the disputed Florida vote; then, in rejecting the militance of his black and labor-union supporters and making his first priority the stability of the system, he ensured his ultimate loss. In 2004, if Kerry wins it will be because the right has badly overreached and Iraq is a bloody mess ‹ not because he has promised to cut corporate taxes. This is not a politics capable of threatening Republican dominance in any serious way.
The Democratic establishment sells itself to liberals by professing to be pragmatic, but on its central concerns it could hardly be more ideological. In a campaign where the Democrats' greatest liability is the perception that Bush stands for something and Kerry does not, can there be any doubt that Kerry would stir up excitement and gain crucial votes by moving left? Suppose he announced that since national security begins at home, he would propose a federal public works cum civil defense program that would simultaneously shore up our crumbling infrastructure, help protect our borders, ports, and nuclear facilities, and create jobs? Or that, in the name of national solidarity and equality of sacrifice, it's time to face the crisis in our health care system and institute national health insurance, paid for by a steep rise in the maximum income tax rate? Not a chance: after years of uniting with the Republicans to dismiss such welfare-state measures as looney-tunes and beyond the bounds of responsible debate, the new Democrats would rather lose than allow them back into the conversation. Nor do they want to win an election by arousing the hopes and expectations of workers, black people and other such grass-roots constituencies, for this would mean an end to neoliberal control of the party.
Within these unacknowledged strictures, the neolibs' only strategy is to peel off "swing voters" from the Republicans. But in trying to project themselves as moderate, they come across as bland. Their proposed economic remedies, which mainly seem to consist of throwing tax credits at problems, cannot compete with Republicans' appeals to people's hopes of getting rich in an "opportunity" or "ownership" society; nor does realist foreign policy have the ring of exhortations to crush the terrorists and make the world safe for democracy. Lacking a compelling theme to put in perspective the shifts and compromises that are the very definition of professional politics, neoliberal candidates are vulnerable to the charge of "flip-flopping." (As Jonathan Chait reminds us in The New Republic, this line of attack on Kerry is not new: Gore and Clinton before him were also accused of waffling.)
On social and cultural issues, regardless of how often they repeat patriotic, pro-family, faith-based platitudes, Democratic candidates have great difficulty convincing voters that they have "mainstream values." This is in part because the neoliberal program, like global capital itself, is grounded in secular cosmopolitanism, and in part because the Democrats' indispensable feminist and gay constituencies, though willing to swallow a lot of pandering to swing voters' presumed social conservatism, do have certain bottom lines‹like support for legal abortion and opposition to a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage. But it's mostly because neoliberalism is a politics of class interest, not moral conviction. While there's some crossover between "pure" neolibs and communitarians or evangelical Christians who are genuine social conservatives, the real payoff, from a neoliberal standpoint, of "values" like "hard work" and "playing by the rules" is disciplining the workforce to accept longer hours, lower pay, and fewer social benefits. Democratic value-speak is widely perceived as phony and opportunistic because, for the most part, it is. Witness party insiders' agonizing over Kerry's lack of religiosity (surely his most appealing trait), apparently seeing no contradiction in the idea that he can convince Americans he has deeply-held beliefs by pretending to be someone he is not.
The flip side of the Democrats' crisis is, of course, the quiescence of its rank and file of labor, liberal and social democratic activists and fellow travelers. Having bought the myth of the public's intractable conservatism, and internalized the propaganda of the Republicans and the Democratic centrists that liberals are not "real Americans" but some sort of mutant `60s-urban-coastal life form, they feel illegitimate and cannot imagine themselves governing. Terrified of bringing on the Holocaust by asserting themselves in any way, they demand nothing from Democratic candidates in return for their support and tolerate no breaking of ranks, a mindset that has reached its apotheosis in the present orgy of "Anybody But Bush" self-abnegation.
Instead of blaming Gore and the Democrats for the myriad ways they blew the 2000 election, or the Republicans for shameless thuggery on the part of everyone from Katherine Harris to the "bourgeois rioters" who shut down the Miami-Dade recount to the Bush v. Gore 5, liberals have displaced their frustration and rage onto an obsession with Ralph Nader. In the past four years, hysteria over Nader the anti-Christ has taken on all the symptoms of moral panic; this year ridiculous amounts of time and money have been spent fighting to knock him off the ballot even in states that are not contested. Here we leave the realm of rational politics for that of psychoanalysis. Granted that Nader too has gone off the deep end, collaborating with Republicans and the Reform Party at the expense of his credibility and to no apparent end but to punish his Democratic tormentors. It is nonetheless true that Nader fixation is a grand diversion from the painful task of facing up to the bankruptcy of the Democrats. For if Kerry and his crowd were willing to give an inch to the left, Nader would be easily neutralized.
The paralysis of liberal Democrats can't be disentangled from the absence of a radical left in any way comparable to the organized radical right either in numbers or ideological impact. Why the left has, by and large, failed to come to terms with the failure of socialism and develop convincing new models of social transformation is a subject for another essay. The result, however, is a vacuum of ideas and an inability to translate left positions on this or that issue into a larger vision, which might excite a mass movement powerful enough to put pressure on the Democrats and either change the party from within or supplant it with a new party of insurgents. Deprived of such an infusion of ideas, liberals can fulfill their political function‹watering down and making respectable the demands of radicals‹only by continuing to draw down the political and cultural capital of the `30s and `60s, to less and less effect. Meanwhile, the radicals of the right have managed to parlay the main assumptions of their economic and to a lesser extent their social agenda into bipartisan common sense.
True, with their relentless aggressiveness the radicals periodically push too far, and the public slaps them down. But unlike liberals who cave at the first hint of opposition, the right views lost political battles and lost elections as temporary glitches, picks itself up off the floor and goes on pushing. If Kerry wins in November, he will have no mandate to do anything but be not-Bush ‹ that is, give the electorate a breather from the right-wing revolution. And if past experience is any guide, the right, after a short period of recriminations and disarray, will do everything in its power to undermine and delegitimize the Kerry administration. Kerry and the Democrats will be under constant pressure from the right, and little or none from the left. The depressing consequences are far easier to predict than the outcome of the election itself.
October 15, 2004
All Politics Becomes Foreign
By Sheldon Wolin
For many liberals the all-consuming passion of the 2004 election is to defeat George Bush. I, too, shared the passion and signed a public statement in support of Kerry. As the campaign unfolded I became steadily more dubious, not so much of the two candidates as of the election itself and the party system. One question that nagged was what have elections become such that, beginning with Reagan, they generate more demagogic sloganeering, less light, and bigger campaign funds to solicit support from an electorate, almost half of which will probably not vote? Does a politics, at once vicious and simplistic, suit a turned-off, uninformed electorate? And what kind of political system surely not a democracy would thrive on a politics of apathy and its correlate of relentlessly mind-numbing attack ads?
A second question was, are we experiencing in our politics and parties the combined efforts of a globalizing economy and an imperial politics? And are these new scales reflected in our party system? Under a two-party system, in which the majority party undertakes to govern while the other serves as an opposition, offering criticism and proposing alternatives, there is always the chance that party politics will cause some moments of instability. However, imperial politics and globalizing capital are allergic to instability and so we are given a one-and-a-half party system. Only one party, the Republican, appears equally capable of governing when elected and opposing when out of power - and both with a vengeance. In both roles it performs a stabilizing function. The Democrats resemble the remains of a party, desperately seeking the center, consistently half-hearted whether opposing or governing a party so unsure of its identity that it could not muster sufficient resolve to disown the reactionary Zell Miller. No pun intended, but John Kerry truly is representative of the party's center of gravity. After co-opting Dean's anti-war following to win the Kansas delegation, he hastened to reassure the Democratic Leadership Council, the center of the center, that no one was a more fervent defender of corporate capitalism than he.
As Kerry's campaign wandered aimlessly prior to and after the Democratic convention, liberal pundits (Dowd, Krugman, et. al.) struggled valiantly, even hermeneutically, to identify and interpret the "real" meaning of Kerry's pronouncements. That was, however, to miss the point. The problem was not Kerry's meandering rhetoric, or uncertain resolve. Rather it has to do with the consolidation of a system of politics in which players amd parties are so deeply dependent on corporate sponsors for election, on their lobbyists and think tanks for policy formulations, on the media (a Fourth Estate that resembles an estate under the ancien regime) that party differences seem to shrink. This is not because Republicans have expediently adopted liberal policies. Rather the reverse. As the globalizing and imperial party, as well as the dominant party, Republicans have set the terms of competition by defining themselves as anti-liberal. Democrats followed suit by reducing differences to a matter of nuance.
Just how the politics of stabilization works was displayed in the venomous attacks on Nader by liberal pundits and Democratic leaders following the Florida debacle in 2000. Historically, third parties have served to raise issues which the traditional parties are reluctant to address but which they sometimes adopt, if only out of expediency. The claim that Nader "lost" the election for the Democrats rests on an astonishing assumption; that a third party candidate, who had sharply contrasted his views with those of the Democratic candidate, was somehow obligated to abandon his principles, withdrawing in favor of a candidate with whom he profoundly disagreed. Without exacting any reciprocity, Nader and his supporters were supposed to betray their convictions and abandon their challenge to corporate domination of politics. Further, it meant that for all practical purposes, the only justifiable third parties are those with views so cranky that their supporters could not in any way affect an election. The best response to the Nader challenge would have been for the Democratic candidate to entice Nader supporters by adopting some of his signature issues. That would have meant taking on corporate power, historically a major concern of the party but now viewed as the equivalent of a third rail.
The issue comes down to one of bad faith: granted that Kerry would probably wind down the Iraq operations sooner than Bush whether in fact, he could is debatable we're left with a domestic program which is marginally superior; not because of its inventiveness, much less of any promises of sweeping social or environmental reforms, but because of its contrast with the wildly reactionary policies pursued by the Bush administration. The problem with the modest promise of Kerry's program is that it underestimates the nature of the threat posed by the present administration. It involves nothing less than the transformation of American politics, beyond the evisceration of liberalism's civil liberties and social welfare programs, to the eradication of the remaining vestiges of a democratic politics.
The character of that transformation is prefigured in the changed character of the Republican party from deficit hawks, isolationists, opponents of the intrusive government to big spenders, interventionists, champions of judicial extremists who, perhaps, want to return to the original Constitution because that document had no Bill of rights.
Republicans offer the best clues about the new shape of politics and about the transformation of modern democracy. Socially it takes the form of widening class disparities in income, education, access to health care and retirement arrangements. Social inequality acquires the status of social given as well as a political assumption and carries with it widening disparities of power. Culturally it plays off the tensions between a growing religiosity, repressive and self-righteous, against a juvenile hedonism that exhausts itself in the chase after novelty. The "political" is displaced by a political economy compounded of an amalgamation of state and corporate powers, of political empire with global markets. The imperial dimension serves to attenuate citizen-politics. Imperial politics is confided to nation-sates and corporations. Domestic politics and policies become increasingly subservient to international politics and policies: politics becomes, remote, "foreign" to the citizen.
Until politicians and parties show how we can retrieve, let alone revitalize, political and social democracy; or whether we can reconcile the inner contradictions of an imperial democracy or a constitutional superpower, the election of 2004 will at best, provide some breathing space for tackling these deeper issues; or, at worst, continue to exhaust the nation's economic resources as it has its political inheritance.
October 8, 2004
[An augmented edition of Sheldon Wolin's Politics and Vision has just been published by Princeton University Press.]
Odds On? Odds Off?
By Sidney Offit
I was baptized as a skeptic of presidential polls during the 1948 campaign. An an editor of the Johns Hopkins students' weekly, I wrote editorials in supporting Henry A. Wallace, the Progressive Party candidate whom I'd met, and his running mate Glen. H. Taylor, with whom I'd hummed along as he strummed his banjo and sang to the tune of "Home on the Range": "Oh give me a home/Near the Capitol Dome..."
With a few exceptions all the members of the campus paper staff along with every English, political science, history and philosophy student I knew supported the Third Party ticket. But George Gallup was galloping over the country predicting Thomas E. Dewey as the odds-on favorite. With the counsel of Professor V.O. Key, an authority on political parties and pressure groups, and Dr. Charles Hammond, a statistics professor, we conducted our own campus poll. Following our experts' directions, we checked out students majoring in business, engineering, biology, physics and political economics, as well as our hometeam Progressives.
The results were surprisingly! outrageous! impossible! Approximately 54% of the students we polled favored the Republican John Dewey, 38% were for the Democrat Truman, and only 8% preferred our man Wallace.
I haven't felt more disturbed by polls until this year. But then I recall my Dad's response when I shared the 1948 poll results with him. He was sitting in his rocker on the porch of our Baltimore apartment, puffing a Herbert Tareyton, and contemplating his day's action as the most respected bookmaker in Maryland. When I expressed my disappointment, and confessed my fear that Gallup and our campus polls might be right, my Dad, the Sage of me life, said quietly, "My money is on Harry Truman." He paused and then continued as if prodded by my need to know more. "Comes down to the wire, dis country will go with party of the underdog, the working stiff, the champion of the little guy. Dem polls, they're like the morning line, handicappers. They got nothin' to say to you if you got an opinion of yer own."
On the eve of this election more than a half a century later, with the polls predicting a Bush victory, I remember my Dad's words and am comforted and confident of my own opinion: Odds on favorites Kerry and Edwards! "all the way to the White House "...Near the Capitol Dome..."
September 23, 2004
Green Thumb in Your Eye
By Lorna Salzman
John Kerry is going to lose to George Bush, and frankly I will be very sorry, but not because I like John Kerry. I was hoping that Kerry would win so we could have four crumby years under his administration, at the end of which time we greens could turn to the "progressive" community and its paleoliberal pals and say: See, we told you how bad things would be if the Democrats won.
Why will Kerry lose? Lots of reasons: he is a lousy candidate, he can't attract independent voters because he doesn't offer a meaningful alternative to Bush, he cant attract disgruntled Republicans or centrists because they want The Real Thing, not Bush Lite, and perhaps most significantly he isn't really running to win.
In fact it is likely that the Democrats really don't care if they lose the election. The fat cats in the DP wont starve, lose their legal fees or alienate their corporate friends. They will still be riding the gravy train. Most important of all, if the Democrats actually won the election, they, not the Republicans, would be in the hot seat on the Iraq war and would spend their days worrying how to continue the war while saying they wanted to pull out our troops.
It will be a lot more comfortable for them if they let Bush and the Republicans take the flak for the war, which worsens day by day, while they sit back and cluck "tsk tsk tsk, aren't you sorry you voted for Bush?".
Since the Republican agenda on virtually all issues - health care, corporate subsidies, globalization, WTO, energy policy - is the same as the Democrats' agenda, the Democrats can sit back for another four years, just as they have done since 2000, letting the Republican steamroller flatten them in congress like dead possums in the road. That is bad enough, but it will be compounded by the paleoliberals who will berate the greens ad nauseum for not supporting Kerry and will once again blame Nader for their loss. They haven't figured out that they don't need Nader to lose an election. They are quite capable of losing on their own.
September 17, 2004
Beat Bush'it
By Amiri Baraka
A critical lack of understanding of the US nation, by too many of those who feature themselves "Knowledgeable" hip, blase, &c is that they think the world is a fixed entity that actually only responds to their over the top idealism as appetite.
For instance, even people close to me have said, "How can you tell people to vote for Kerry, there's no real difference!"
To say - as the Nadir of Liberalism mumbles that Democrats and Republicans are the same - is common weed type Liberalism (See Lenin, "How Democracy and Liberalism separated," BUSH IS IN POWER. HE IS THE COMMANDER IN neo -Fascist mufti CHIEF. Bush and the Cheney's, Rummy's, Colons, Condoskeezas, Wolf -o Half Wits, &c are IN CHARGE. They could, by the time this appears, ignite, aid or initiate a couple of even more fatal 911's. (See Moore's flick ASAP)
If we can understand finally that the overall struggle is for A PEOPLES DEMOCRACY, that is the main struggle, the abiding life or death ground combat we should find ourselves in. BEAT BUSH is the KEY LINK in that because if we don't stop the death ship of Bush'it, Obsession with World Conquest, the anti China deep cover war head these ass hole of Evil are aiming at, and with that, imagine, overweight, comfort corrupt worm head Americans might try, we are looking for real, at the potential destruction of any thing passing as civilization for the endless conflicts of Orwell's "1984". For these racist imbeciles to imagine they can conquer China, with its 1 Billions folk is Texas Roulette!
We cannot reduce our intelligence to the Liberal longing of the Nader's who simply want to share power with the Imperialists, not overthrow them (Read his telephone dialogue, e.g..) This is the weasely absorption into swamplib, the more reactionary sector of the petty bourgeois radicals of the 60's, the flower children, the radicals who now sell us interesting teas, and organic diversion. Or retrograde politics disguised as Democracy and Independence. This is outright vomity fraud.
Nader will get Bush elected if he has way, (he is about a minute I feel, from outright accepting the petty bourgeois whore job... Can anyone doubt it after the revelations of his funding from big Republicans, his forthcoming book published by, Thass right, Rupert Murdoch
WE MUST STOP BUSH TO DEEPEN AND STRENGTHEN THE FIGHT BACK AGAINST OBVIOUSLY EXPRESS TRAIN FASCISM. ("Post pone the election"??, a New Jersey Negro, Buster Soaries, a DISMORAL paradigm, he belonged to The Congress of African People for about thirty seconds, then claimed he got kidnapped by anonymous gangsters.) (True)! The whole campaign that must be launched to reform the US political system, as a beginning, will not move under the Bush hammer. No matter the foolish Social Democrats who think fascism will bring us Revolution. (Like the violently deceased Social Democrats in Weimar, Germany, as well as, sadly, the Liebnecht-Luxembourg Spartacist Left-Communists.)
We have no party, we have no mobilization, and we have no movement, except objectively intense opposition to the BushReich is burgeoning swiftly. We must have time and a break in the steadily right moving US political trend, as led by the Superpower neo fascist Bush coven.
It is this Beat Bush initiative that is the only shortstop of the neo-Nazi Bush Right and their Corporate, Religious, Opportunist liberal Gestalt. The Political Reforms, one person one vote, elimination of the Billionaire Club US Senate, Prohibition of private monies in the elections, standard methods and times of voting and the Direct Democracy and elimination of the Electoral College and Winner Take All Sham cannot be eliminated under the Bush Juggernaut.
We are not saying "VOTE FOR KERRY"...WE ARE SAYING "BEAT BUSH!" AND THAT IS THE ONLY WAY to Political Reforms, (and yes, the struggle for Afro-American Reparations, as a struggle for a Peoples Democracy is part of that)! End of Super Power profit making Wars, and the critical Cultural Revolution to reorganize a Revolutionary Democratic & cultural movement and shut down the corporate reactionary domination by the most backward sectors of the bourgeois over the Communications and Culture of the US, and the entire superstructure, which makes for domination of the political culture and economic development.,
Either the US people BEAT BUSH, or the Ghosts of Weimar, an American Weimar will surely rise to Beat US!
September 21, 2004
Out of Time
By Wesley Hogan and Dirk Philipsen
The stark election moonscape appears forlorn to most everyone. From out here in Left-Field, the scene seems particularly barren. There stands Kerry, a centrist-right candidate wedded to corporate money. Only a vote for him can prevent a stampede by the "R" party the Rich, the Religious Right, and the cultural Reactionaries. Progressives like Robin Kelley and Eric Mann persevere, urging us to go one step further than the Anybody-But-Bushies and serve our civic duty by organizing the left as pressure on Kerry. Regardless of the courses we choose, most independent progressives seem to be searching for an escape hatch from the poverty of what passes as American political discourse. None of the important topics are on the table of the Republicrats.
First, we need to talk about money and how it's distributed. How are we to achieve some level of economic equity, when seventy-four percent of Americans are working longer hours for less money than in the 1980s, not to mention that by now less than 500 of the richest people in the world‹many of them Americans‹own more wealth than over one half of the entire global population combined? Second, Kyoto-Schmeeoto. We need to put our current course of environmental suicide on the political table. While it would be prudent to plan for the seventh generation, at this point even planning for our grandchildren's energy, food, water, and air supply would be radical. Third, the U.S. government squandered the entire surplus of international sympathy post-9/11. Instead the W. government speedily crushed new opportunities for a more stable and just international system by invading Iraq, alongside a small Coalition of the Bribed and Coerced. Killing tens of thousands of civilians in an unprovoked war, fought outside of international protocol against a country that caused no danger to us marks it as indefensible. Our history of aiding and abetting dictators, including Saddam Hussein, short-circuits the oft-cited "getting-rid-of a brutal dictator" justification. Either we are the guardians of humanity, or we pursue a policy of national self-interest‹we can't have it both ways.
Fourth, real women's issues are not present anywhere. Not anywhere. In neither major party is anyone talking about women and work: availability of decent jobs, family choices that empower, healthcare and childcare that is feasible, pay equity, or the ongoing struggle against sexual harassment and assault. Fifth, neither Kerry nor Bush speak to quality of life issues for the eighty-five percent of the population who lack access to one or all of the following essentials: healthcare, good schools, college, job security, retirement, healthy & affordable childcare, physical safety, green space, and a quality family/community life. Sixth, where is the plan to address the fact that we have burned up and wasted two generations of African American kids through "sharecropper education," hyper-segregated urban neighborhoods, and the prison system? No one is talking about it but progressives like bell hooks and Barbara Lee, shouting out from the far corners of marginality. If that gaping hole in the national discourse is not appalling, what is?
Finally, somebody needs to put it out there as a Major Political Issue: we have no Reflection Time. How can we figure out what is important and what is not when most of us are exhausted and frantic during our waking hours? Americans now work about 390 hours on average more per year than Western Europeans. And then we commute, drive kids to soccer, fill out forms, chase after health insurance claims or languish in the ER if we don't have insurance.... and on and on. The "R" Party rhetoric pulls in some of us who are anxious: they argue for "Less Government," yet burden future generations with endless national debt and coercive social policies that plunge into the furthest recesses of our vaginas and psyches. They are "pro-education," yet subsidize people sending their kids to private schools. They "lower taxes" by promoting policies that benefit only the top 26% of income-earners. They "Fight Terrorism," yet pursue a foreign policy that alienates just about everyone outside our borders (thus producing unprecedented hostility and swelling the ranks of terrorists each week).
These slogans only succeed to the extent that we continue in a fog of franticness. Desperate for a clear indicator of personal success, we measure our achievement by what brand of car we drive or what kind of mustard or mayonnaise we use. This intellectual and spiritual impoverishment leaves us drained and empty, and many end up in front of their flat screen tv happy to watch 249 channels of drivel all the way into the Neverland of sleep. We consume it all so well. Yet the central question for Election 2004 is wholly ignored in Bush v. Kerry: What kind of society are we producing?
September 29, 2004
Common Cruelty
By Kate Millett
Despite his little grin, his carefully built common man's appeal, there is something genuinely evil about George Bush. Consider how he treats his prisoners of war. The pictures from Abu Ghraib prison. It is significant that they have become their photographs, visual reproductions of what they once were, human beings caricatured by outlandish poses into a series of protruding arms and legs from a central core of buttocks. Or lying along the ground like a dog. Or squatting on a stool with electrodes attached to what were its arms, a hood over what was its face.
Bush and Rumsfeld have found ways to make everyone talk to keep you naked and in the dark, for days at a time. To make the night hideous with screams. To do this to time, to pain, to consciousness and to do it not only in Abu Ghraib but in countless unnamed and unlocated prisons throughout the region. Even to confining thousands of undocumented prisoners held in Guantanamo Bay for three years now in a living hell without any recourse to justice or law. These are not a few tormented by a handful. This is a deliberate policy arrived at wholesale.
This is not just an angry man debating on television, furious at being challenged by a far more sophisticated debater. Why has Kerry never mentioned Abu Ghraib prison? George Bush is not merely stubborn as a male driver miles from his destination clinging to the wheel with a heavy foot on the gas pedal this is a criminal behavior. This is the crux of the matter.
For George Bush is cruel as well as incompetent. And it is not merely the careless cruelty of the rich and powerful who really cannot see those smaller and frailer and less well-connected. It is something we are almost ashamed to admit is our own now it is official sadism. Something he has made American. Beyond bullying. Beyond macho insensitivity. It is something he espouses and if you don't like it you are unpatriotic. You're maybe not "normal". Maybe you're not even "Christian". His is indeed "God-driven". He has used 9/11 to make himself a dictator.
There's something perversely sexual about Bush's wars. These wars have a peculiar "gender specific" bent to them. Men in Iraq are tortured and phootographs are taken so that others may know their shame. A sexual shame. One hears the voice of the army psychologist "explaining" the policy that Arab men are more the prisoners of macho myth than we are and how we can entirely humiliate them, complicating the humiliation by dragging Private Lindy England into the picture.
Does anyone remember that one of the reasons we went to war in Afghanistan was to stop the Taliban from butchering women who learned how to read? And now we collaborate with warlords who would have them raped on the way to school. The gender wars have taken a bitter turn in both countries. A turn towards the barbarous, the cruel. Mixed with sex, the perfect repressive formula. Puritanical. Complete misery. Cruelty for its own sake in the contorted photographs of our "enemies", the corrupt reports of our generals, the mean-spirited snicker of our President. It hides unspeakable things, crimes against the human spirit he feels perfectly at ease committing. He is a dangerous man. We would follow him at our peril.
October 11, 2004
I Walk the Line
By Howard Zinn
I believe George Bush is the most dangerous p resident we have had in this century, or in any century dangerous to our lives and our liberties, a man who meets the definition of "high crimes and misdemeanors as required by the impeachment process and I would suggest impeachment except that we have an easier method coming up. Therefore I want John Kerry to win in November.
However, I also believe it is necessary for us to speak to John Kerry and let him now in as strong a way as we can, that, if he wants to win, he must begin to represent what is now a majority opinion in the American public, that our military intervention in Iraq is a disaster, for Americans, for Iraqis, for the world.
John Kerry needs to stop boasting of his physical courage in fighting in Vietnam, and talk of his moral courage in opposing that war. He needs to stop saying, as he did the other day in the Midwest, that he defended this country when he was fighting in Vietnam. That is not an honest statement. If it were true, than he would not have turned against the war. He was not defending this country when he fought in Vietnam. He was defending this country when he said we were wrong to be in Vietnam and we should get out.
He should not be saying about Iraq that he will wage the war better, that he will replace US troops with solders from other countries. If it is immoral for our soldiers to be occupying Iraq and killing Iraqis every day, it is immoral for foreign soldiers to do the same.
He should be clear: we are not defending our country by our war in Iraq and we should get out. He should stop saying what Bush is saying, that we have to "stay the course". We stayed the course in Vietnam and it cost 58,000 American lives and millions of Vietnamese lives.
And for those who say we must not "cut and run", John Kerry can say, with some authority, we did cut and run in Vietnam and it was the right thing to do. And if someone doesn't like the words "cut and run", he can say: "Okay, lets cut and walk." Like those signs you see: "In case of fire, do not run, but walk to the nearest exit." There's a fire in Iraq whose flames we are fanning. Let's walk.
September 30, 2004
The Future in the Past
By Staughton Lynd
I shall vote for John Kerry because of his statement to the Senate Foreign Relations Committee in 1971. (Available at http://www.truthout.org/docs_04/082204F.shtml.) Kerry's summary of the testimony of fellow soldiers at the Winter Soldier hearing in Detroit, several months before, displays the same anguish that so many of us felt from 1964 on. Kerry is in this sense a Movement candidate. Far more than Jimmy Carter or Bill Clinton he went through the Vietnam experience. At some level of his being he must have been stamped forever by it.
Of course, this fact does not explain away or excuse Kerry's apparent intention to remain in Iraq until that war is won, whatever that means, or to support the government of Israel uncritically, or . . . so many things.
The analogy in my mind is to JFK's election in 1960. Kennedy, too, was hardly Left of center at the time of his election. He permitted the Bay of Pigs to go forward. He and his brother Robert were insensitive to the Southern civil rights movement, and especially to SNCC. Yet we were able to pressure the Kennedys from below so that, for example in negotiating the nuclear test ban treaty and causing it to be passed by Congress, they accomplished much that was helpful and created political space within which the Movement could do more by its own means.
No matter who is elected, the time we are coming into is one in which we must all be prepared publicly to support servicemen and servicewomen who say No, whether in Iraq or before deployment.
October 5, 2004
Remembering with Advantages
By Fred Smoler
I cringed a bit when Kerry saluted and shouted that he was reporting for duty, but I knew what he was getting at, and I think most people did: he was drawing an illuminating and very pointed contrast. Given conscription in a democratic political order, serving your country in wartime may reasonably be considered one's duty, while expertly playing the deferment system or using family influence to jump the queue into the National Guard was shirking that duty. If you weren't too sure that serving in Vietnam was anyone's duty, or if you were convinced that the moral obligation consisted in refusing to serve, the point might have been lost on you‹it periodically seemed to be lost on a number of New York Times editorialists‹and you might be inclined to mistake the shout as a species of jingoism, or moral idiocy, or simple militarism. There was indeed some of that, both at the Times and to points Left, but even in those cases, the contrast with the Bush and Cheney biographies tended to clarify the issue, at least for a while. In the wake of the Democratic convention, when Kerry rose in the polls, and the war news got steadily worse, it looked as if Kerry had found a magic bullet. It seemed that Vietnam, properly remembered, undercut Bush's appropriation of the military virtues, and softened doubts about Kerry's willingness to use force. In the minds of the more resolutely anti-war Democrats, moreover, the lessons of the old war could only remind the electorate that the new war was a catastrophe. Perhaps Bush had indeed found his Vietnam, not in Iraq, but in Vietnam.
Even if you rejected the absolute conflation of Vietnam with Iraq‹some did, and at first, most prominently, Kerry did himself‹the magic bullet had still found its target. When you remembered that Cheney had notoriously sneered that he'd had more important things to do than serve in Vietnam‹in a war he still supported‹and learned that while taking his MBA at Harvard soon after his Guard service, Bush had apparently boasted that he'd worked the system to avoid risking his life in Indochina, reporting for duty' seemed to get the point across with admirable economy. The endless invocation of the band of brothers sometimes looked stagy and crass, but it seemed like a very effective way of breaking the Right's rhetorical near-monopoly on values', character' and patriotism. Boasting about avoiding your obligations apparently spoke with inadvertent eloquence about your values and your character, and at least at first, it spoke volumes. A friend visiting the Army War College a month or so before the convention heard numbers of officers quoting Cheney with some savagery, one observing that at least 50,000 young Americans had had much better things to do. As for Bush, another officer observed that he'd known a lot of aviators, fixed wing and rotary, and that while they tended to lose a lot of things‹they seemed to be particularly careless about wives and girlfriends‹he'd never known one to lose a logbook. So in parts of Carlisle, PA, Bush was a barefaced liar, Cheney was shamelessly truthful, and Kerry had fought for his country. There was disquiet, and in many cases anger, about Kerry's 1971 testimony, but it was more than counterbalanced by contempt for Bush and Cheney. And if this was what they were saying at the War College, one imagined that in Ohio, they'd be saying it with fewer reservations. But so far, it hasn't turned out that way, although Kerry's victorious tactics in the first debate may reverse the current yet again.
What went wrong? Famously, a committee of Swift Boat vets turned up to slander Kerry: he was a coward, a liar, he hadn't deserved his medals, neither the first nor perhaps the second Purple Heart, not the Bronze Star, maybe not the Silver Star. The smears kept changing, but a fair summary of the narrative constructed around the charges would be that Kerry had solicited some of the medals to get out of a combat zone he'd never intended to enter‹when Kerry had requested the duty, it had not been nearly as hazardous as it became once the deployment of the boats changed‹and hadn't deserved the others. In other words, he was on a moral par with Bush and Cheney, merely less successful in achieving the same end. He'd tried to avoid serving at all, and when that failed, he'd kept out of harm's way; when the rules changed, he'd hazarded his life as briefly as possible, and gamed the system to get the hell out after four months.
In some versions of the smears, he'd invented, misrepresented or inflated the acts that had secured the decorations, in others he'd been the beneficiary of a culture in which medals had been shamelessly devalued, for all intents and purposes given away in crackerjack boxes: this was more or less the ingenious retort of one of the accusers, when it turned out that his own citation included a reference to the hostile fire he'd insisted had never happened, on an occasion that resulted in one of Kerry's medals. In the more polite version, Kerry wasn't directly at fault, but he deserved none of the honor wounds and decorations normally confer; in the less polite version, Kerry had plain lied, cooked the books, knowingly worn medals to which he had no moral claim.
When the dust settled, some of the smears had been discredited, and with slight exceptions, there was no persuasive reason to believe any of the others, since there was evidence on both sides, and never less for Kerry's (and the Navy's) version than for the ones asserted by his detractors. The exception seems to be a claim that Kerry had served in Cambodia on a particular Christmas day. That doesn't seem to be true. Further evidence may yet come to light about some of the other assertions, one of which also involves service in Cambodia. One of the Purple Hearts may have been awarded for a wound unwittingly self-inflicted, and the wounds for one of the Purple Hearts were apparently trivial'; I use the inverted commas to avoid seeming to myself minimize any wounds suffered in combat, not least because I have not myself ever incurred any, nor, for that matter, served. I may be excessively timid; these considerations do not seem to have restrained a very large number of other commentators, so perhaps our mores are changing. A number of commentators have been admirably stoical about the wounds Kerry suffered, and have splendidly resisted any temptation to self-indulgent generosity when judging the honor appropriately awarded for someone else's military service.
In any event, the strategy of the detractors was to paint Kerry as an alazon‹the comic butt who claims powers he does not possess‹indeed, as the most famous and ludicrous type of alazon, the Miles Gloriosus. On this account, Kerry is a boastful, swaggering soldier, secretly a coward, his heroic deeds are fictions, his courage an absurd lie, his reputation something to be utterly exploded, to demystifying and delicious effect. Even if this fails, any substantial diminishment of Kerry's war record occludes the painful comparison with Bush and Cheney.
The potential difficulty with this approach was that there is no dispute that Kerry had dispatched twenty of his country's enemies‹this is not a case of Cheney wittily vowing to eat as many a Kerry had killed. Nor is there any dispute that casualties in the Swift Boats could run to 90 per cent around the time that Kerry served in them, nor that four months is actually a long time in combat, as indeed four minutes can be‹the risk upon first exposure to combat is proverbial, and the source of a great deal of savagely ironical anecdote by veterans. Four months in combat compared very sharply with no time in combat, the record of Bush, Cheney, and some (although not all) of Kerry's detractors. And after a month or so of what should have been grossly unseemly controversy, but somehow wasn't so described while it dominated the news coverage, most of this set of charges against Kerry was dismissed by much of the mainstream media (although not by all of the bloggers).
Then came the error about Cambodia on Christmas Day. If you followed the chatter in the blogs, or spoke to some people on the Right, this Cambodia business was devastating, and in any case it was taken to somehow revive the plausibility of the previous charges about the medals‹falsus in uno, falsus in omnibus. There was renewed glee on the blogs, and at other places on the web, and in conversations‹they'd got the bastard now, this was the story that wouldn't go away, despite the Liberal Media's alleged refusal to touch the story (to other eyes, it rather looked as if the media spent the better part of a month obsessed with the story, to the exclusion of almost any other coverage of the campaign). But the happy triumph of the Swift Boat vets, by their own account, was now absolute: band of brothers, phooey.
What should fair-minded people think of Kerry's mistake about being in Cambodia on Christmas Day? The specific text that gave us the phrase band of brothers' is itself shrewdly apposite for anyone considering the allegedly damning, dispositive fact that Kerry had exaggerated his service in this one respect, and perhaps in others:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named, And rouse him at the name of Crispian. He that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, And say To-morrow is Saint Crispin:' Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars. And say These wounds I had on Crispin's day.' Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot, But he'll remember with advantages What feats he did that day...
Illiterate groundlings apparently knew that people who'd secured imperishable glory at Agincourt, outnumbered ten to one, would also, inevitably, remember things with advantages; the comic can coexist with epic, the ordinary with the extraordinary, and not only as comic relief, as the plunge from high to low. This, the poet says, is what men are like, and their heroism survives our knowledge of the fact. You had to know wonderfully little about human nature to decide that on the strength of the Cambodia slip, Kerry was no worthy member of any band of brothers. Nonetheless, Kerry's apparent lead had disappeared, and by late September Kerry's use of his Vietnam service, which had dominated the convention, was widely written off as a catastrophic miscalculation: he'd invited scrutiny of his military record it couldn't possibly have survived. The fact that the record had survived pretty much unscathed didn't seem to matter. By September, Vietnam wasn't a magic bullet, or if it was, it had at best misfired, and maybe it had been suicidal to bring it up at all. The smears were assumed to have worked because of some omni-competent Republican spin machine, a machine which its mourner-celebrants imagined could always make fantasy triumph over fact. Or maybe Vietnam was simply an irrelevancy: this is what the Times editorialists had written in the immediate aftermath of the Democratic convention: enough about the four months in combat, what about the almost forty years that had followed them? And soon enough, that was what the Right began saying, too.
The difficulty with this line of thought is that it risks missing what did happen between the Democratic convention and late September: Kerry lost his lead among women. And he seems to have lost it because of an inversion of traditional patterns of electoral behavior: this year, foreign policy apparently matters more to much of the electorate than domestic policy does, and, quite remarkably, women may be more concerned than men are with questions of national security. So it is worth considering the possibility that something about the memory of Vietnam was indeed relevant to how the Band of Brothers strategy had turned out, and how the election will turn out, if Bush in fact wins it. In the context of current realities, maybe there are some significant risks and weaknesses, as well as opportunities, in the way portions of the Democratic party talk about Vietnam.
After all, Kerry's supporters had not restricted themselves to drawing inferences about character; they had made some other rhetorical moves on Vietnam. People began to argue that Kerry knew war, that Bush did not, and thus Kerry was uniquely entitled to speak on the subject. Kerry himself began to imply that his experience would have let him avoid some of the mistakes Bush had made, and that some of those mistakes were the consequence of Bush's callow ignorance of war. The strong form of the argument ran that Bush and Cheney, like the neo-con civilians at the Pentagon, had not fought, so they simply had no right to advocate a war. This in fact echoed what many on the Right had said about Clinton in Bosnia and Kossovo, Haiti and Somalia, and what the anti-war Right had said about the neo-cons in both Iraq wars, although not about Bush and Cheney themselves. And the refrain began to be more audible, as his anti-war supporters tried to push Kerry off the fence: the mistake in going to war‹Kerry was not yet willing to say that going to war had been a mistake, although he would finally do so in the immediate run-up to the first debate, but many of his supporters were bolder‹was a mistake no veteran who remembered Vietnam would have made. This seems to have sounded a deal better at the Times than had all that than all that Band of Brothers stuff, and it may have sounded better to other Kerry supporters, too. One gets the impression that combat‹certainly combat in Vietnam-- is not widely seen as a crucial test of character throughout the Kerry coalition.
But if you thought about it, this new argument verged on a militarist, even a fascist argument: bereft of the blood-knowledge of war, the civilians (and the women, etc.), should shut up about matters they have not earned the right to speak on. People who made this argument did not seem to recognize how appealing squadristi and stormtroopers would have found it. As it happens, the argument was also a very bad argument: combat experience does not have predictable effects on judgments about the wisdom of war, or about the best conduct of wars. Many of the most determined appeasers had fought in the First World War, as had many of the most bellicose fascists and Nazis. People can serve in combat and reach very bad conclusions about the merits of prospective wars, and about the lessons of war generally. Hitler was immensely proud of his very considerable combat experience, and relied upon it when making military policy; FDR, who did not see combat, was not on that account, or any other, the worse commander in chief; Lincoln had never seen combat, Jefferson Davis had, and so on, and on, and on. The vastly experienced British and French generals of the inter-war years were very confident that their experience had taught them the best way to prosecute the next war, and about the wisdom of delaying one. They had, quite notoriously, been tragically mistaken. Many of the Vietnam generation had misjudged the likely course of the first Iraq war, and for that matter, of the second. But despite its idiocy, this one "lesson"‹you didn't fight, so you can neither speak nor lead in wartime‹did seem to resonate; it did not hurt the Democrats, indeed seemed to help them, and many Republicans were visibly embarrassed when it was drawn. Maybe the First World War soldier poets still cast a very long shadow, or, more plausibly, their argument, fused with a much older veneration for military experience, now half-inverted, has become a durable part of our culture. Even when CBS shamefully bungled the story of Bush's behavior, the White House was initially silent, apparently fearing that any insistence that Bush had behaved honorably would be too easily refuted, would in fact prove disastrous. When CBS's malfeasance and incompetence became the whole of the story, the harm done to Kerry was only indirect; Bush's defenders did not try to rehabilitate him, but instead exulted in a Scotch verdict.
Nonetheless, for the two weeks leading up to the first debate, while the war news sounded dreadful, and while Kerry's supporters started hammering ever more vigorously on the Vietnam analogy, Bush soared in the best-reported polls. For technical reasons, some of the most-reported polls were defective, but they still disclosed something real. Could the use to which the Democrats put the lessons of Vietnam' have in fact helped Bush? If so, how?
Vietnam, like all wars, did not teach only one lesson, the lessons it taught were not invariably correct, or even applicable, and the lessons various sections of the electorate might have drawn from Vietnam were not necessarily the ones the Times editorialists kept drawing, week after week. For one thing. analogies between Vietnam and Iraq can be overdrawn: the Vietnamese Communists had a sanctuary in a neighboring state, they had the massive and open support of industrialized allies, they were unified in a disciplined Leninist party, and spoke for an ethnic and confessional majority. They lived among a peasantry, in swamps, mountains and jungle; the cities of South Vietnam were more or less controlled by their enemies. When they finally won‹it took decades, and cost millions of lives--they came to power on tanks, organized in divisions, employing conventional weapons and tactics. None of these things are yet true of the hard core of the Iraqi insurgents, or particularly likely to be true any time soon, or in most particulars, ever. Then again, none of these differences had been pointed up by the Republicans. The equation of Vietnam with Iraq resonated in two important ways: after Abu Ghraib, we seemed to be waging the war with inexcusable cruelty, and by the early fall, it began to be feared, with no apparent chance of success.
On the other hand, the much touted, and infinitely various (and contradictory) lessons of Vietnam' had arguably contained some quite relevant information about what should have been done in Iraq, and what might still be done: counter-insurgency, nation-building, civil affairs, all the things the American army had once known at least something (and sometimes a great deal) about, and which some of the generals seemed to have willingly forgotten, lest they be expected to attempt those things again.
But for some Kerry's supporters, for much of the anti-war camp, Vietnam contained no lessons about how the war in Iraq should be waged: it contained only lessons about how the war was a disastrous mistake, damned from its inception, and how it could never be successfully fought. In those quarters, the war could only be lost, with luck as quickly as possible, to spare the Iraqis and the Americans further suffering. The suffering that the American war in Vietnam had caused on all sides was something these people understood very clearly; what they chose not to understand was that a significant portion of Vietnamese suffering--the gulags, the long imprisonment in an immiserated tyranny, now evolved into a corrupt kelptocracy, the hundreds of thousands of refugees--was the product of the American defeat. One of Kerry's problems about Vietnam was almost certainly that some of its lessons' were too clear to his supporters, every bit as clear as they had been in 1975, and every bit as relevant, and that certain other lessons were inadmissible.
Still, the bulk of the electorate did not seem to be worrying too much about the suffering an American withdrawal might inflict on the Iraqis. One lesson of Vietnam seemed to be that if a people will not defend themselves, Americans cannot forever defend them. Another lesson that did reward Kerry seemed to come out of Abu Ghraib. The swift boat vets, among others, had been enraged when Kerry had in 1971 condemned the Vietnam war as defined by its atrocities. The statements they quoted did not quite read, to my eyes, as insisting that all American troops in Vietnam had committed atrocities. But they had been read that way, were still being read that way, and the awkward fact is that some of the anti-war movement had made precisely such an argument at the time, and ever after. The argument was a version of the one made famous in Ponetecorvo's The Battle of Algiers: atrocity is the inevitable tactic of the colonial power, which will just as inevitably lose. This was not necessarily irrelevant to the strength of the anti-war case about Iraq; after Abu Ghraib, when news of American atrocities in Iraq became undeniable, the bulk of the electorate seemed to recoil from the war. Public sentiment seemed to shift, and the anti-war camp began to publicly draw Pontecorvo's lesson, which by 1975 had long become its own: we are the colonialists, our war's elemental moral meaning is inevitable atrocity, and inevitable (and just) defeat. Our enemies, meanwhile, must gain in moral stature, if we, their foes, are so vile: they are best understood as nationalists, not as Stalinists, or terrorists, or jihadists. Their victory, while it will involve cruelty, is somehow on the right side of history; it is hubris to seek to oppose, or even delay it. The center of the electorate did not seem to go so far, but Abu Ghraib had shaken them. And still, by September, Kerry was losing, among people who seemed to think that he did not have the will to defend them.
Perhaps the electorate sensed something about the Vietnam comparison, and about the eagerness with which it had been invoked. I suspect that it may have sounded too cheerfully defeatist, and, especially in the wake of Beslan, some people seemed uneasy about their prospective political leaders looking too willing to chuck it in. That, after all, was the lesson the New York Times was drawing from Vietnam: this new war, like that old one, was so obviously unnecessary and un-winnable, perhaps it was best to give it up, concentrate on the real enemy', we said so at the beginning, and we're repeating it now, perhaps a bit smugly. But it seemed that important elements of the electorate‹most crucially, a significant number of women--did not entirely trust people who were eager to bolt from Iraq to choose to fight anywhere else. In the wake of Beslan, with three hundred and fifty or so children murdered by people who rather sounded like the people killing American troops in Iraq, and like people who had earlier killed American civilians in Manhattan, it looked as if a crucial percentage of the electorate wanted leaders who might be willing to seek out that enemy, to bring the war to them.
Although not necessarily in Iraq. Everything Bush had done seemed to a large number of voters to be wrong, or at least to have failed. But simultaneously, a clear majority of the electorate thought that Bush could be better trusted to fight terrorism‹despite the fact that they simultaneously suspected that much (maybe everything) of what he'd done to date had turned out badly. If the ghosts of Vietnam haunted the campaign in ways more subtle than the editorialists seemed to think, it seemed likely that the most dangerous ghost was the suspicion that in the wake of Vietnam, the Democrats had become a party who, while unwilling to fight an unnecessary war, might well be unwilling to fight a just or possibly necessary one, either. Perhaps Iraq-as-Vietnam could make people remember the Clinton who had been unwilling to fight a just war in Rwanda, rather than the Republicans who had hysterically opposed him over Kossovo, or recall the Clinton who had let Bosnian Muslims die, rather than the Clinton who had brought their torment to an end (or the first Bush, whose cynical derelictions had allowed the Bosnian catastrophe to erupt). Maybe Iraq-as-Vietnam made people remember the Carter of the hostage crisis, rather than the Reagan who slunk away from Marines slaughtered in Beirut.
In the wake of the first debate, Kerry, prematurely written off, was suddenly again in close contention. During the debate, Kerry argued that the war had not been necessary when it was fought, but that defeat would be catastrophic, that he would not shrink from preemptive war, and that he would win the war Bush had started. He promised victory‹as he had done in Boston, after which his stock had also risen. Yet as the race entered its final month, popular doubts about Kerry remained what they had been in September: that he could not be trusted to defend the people against terror. It seems possible that a crucial section of the electorate, while it had drawn many of the same lessons from Vietnam that the candidate had, was nonetheless uneasy that he had taken those lessons too inflexibly to heart.
October 10, 2004
A Fan's Note
By Benjamin DeMott
Election times are hell on self-respect. Usually when I hear or read political garbage I don't give it an automatic pass and don't worry much about being snobbish or self-indulgently eccentric. Usually I'm clear that genuine sacrifice is one thing and getting a moral rush from other people's pain is another. Usually I hate the world of they say and believe there's nothing shameful about trying to be your own man.
But when the partisan heat is up, forget it. Everything changes. The questioning critic in me dopes off. In the aftermath of the first presidential debate a consensus began to build that "my" candidate wasn't disastrously stiff after all, had a certain command of issues, looked "presidential" and so on. Friends who had previously badmouthed Kerry for pomposity suddenly found reason to take a second look. Some read the shifting poll numbers as evidence of the fundamental health of democracy. I felt gratified by what was happening. I was heartened by TV replays of "my" candidate's scores and the other man's grimacing errors relished exchanges in which rounded-up half-truths encouraged faith in fluency as the highest virtue. Suckered into the delights of belonging, I became for days a Kerry guy.
Yes I know solidarity has had decent uses in the past and will have them again in the future. The point is that election time is self-simplification time. The temptation grows to stop being a person who thinks - a thinking being as distinguished from a fan. Somebody sustained by the habit of trying to talk back to pseudo-thought wherever it originates, in political season and out the stuff that paves the world with con.
I'm venting, of course. When you feel yourself being not so gradually massified back into the natural human mediocre state, you vent. The case is that I can't wait for the day after Election Day and the chance to aspire to a better self.
October 9, 2004
[Benjamin DeMott is the author most recently of "Whitewash as Public Service: How the 9/11 Commission Report Defrauds the Nation" in the October Harper's magazine.]
The House that I Live In
By Kurt Vonnegut
THE OVERWHELMING POPULARITY OF BUSH, IN SPITE OF EVERYTHING, FINALLY SHOWS US WHAT THE AMERICAN PEOPLE, WHOM WE HAVE SO SENTIMENTALZED FOR SO LONG, A LA NORMAN ROCKWELL, REALLY ARE AND ALWAYS HAVE BEEN.
September 23, 2004
"There Are So Many of Them"
By Scott Spencer
We, the people who want Bush out, are approaching a state of nervous collapse. We are slapping our foreheads, pointing in disbelief we simply cannot understand how anyone can find this smirking, strutting President likeable, or trustworthy, humane, or even competent. But they're out there, tens of millions of them, and we'd sort of like to wring their necks. And why? Because we think they'd like to wring our necks.
The politics of unseating the President has something desperate at the core of it the feeling that our government has been hijacked by a group of ideologues who actively despise us, actors, writers, trade unionists, environmentalists, feminists, gay activists, New Yorkers, San Franciscans, etc etc. The fierce, pitiless eyes of the Bush gang burn holes in our chests, and now, with thirty days to go before the election or what one friend calls "the pre-recount" mwe are out there pulling for Senator Kerry as if our very lives depend on his victory. Democrats accuse Bush of playing on the peoples' post 911 fear, and he is, he is, but so far the most deeply frightened people I have seen in this election or in any American election have been the people who want the Bush out of power. Mass arrests, further illegal detentions, the complete disintegration of our alliances, widespread bloodshed, nuclear Armageddon, it all seems horribly possible.
The old liberal swagger is gone the sense that Kennedy supporters and Clinton supporters had that their candidate and they themselves were so much looser and cooler and sexier and contemporary than anything calling itself a Republican. (Now it seems as if the Republicans have more logged in more hours getting high than the Dems!) And in place of our old superiority complex has come a sense of hopelessness, and isolation. Of course we've recently had the experience of actually winning an election and then having it bullied right out of our hands and you could fill a book with left wing blogs about chicanery already in place for this upcoming election.
Since the first debate, the polls seem to be tilting slightly in Kerry's direction. But most of us keep our eyes on a few states, a few districts. We're more than content to squeeze out a victory in the Electoral College. Screw the popular vote. We'll take our blue states, as few as they are. As to the others no love lost. We have gotten the message -- the Pentecostals and the people of Utah would just as soon we not exist, all those people, all those so-called red states. And there are so many of them. It's the new Red Scare, and this time it's not the little old ladies in Peoria quaking in their tennis shoes, it's us. Since 2000, liberals have been talking about taking their country back. What none of us is talking about is our greatest fear that it isn't really our country at all, not any longer. Will we show the grit and confidence of the hard right if the Republicans succeed in pushing us to the margins of political life?
October 2, 2004
Rats and Mice
By Stanley Aronowitz
To begin with I want to stipulate that Bush and his cabal are a bunch of dirty, stinking, cheating rats. That's all that needs saying about them. Except for the fact that half the American electorate -- most white men over age 25, a hefty portion of millionaires, the eighth of the voters who are self-defined Christian fundamentalists, members of the armed forces and people in small towns and in the countryside -- is willing to ignore Bush's chronic lying, that truth should be enough to produce a landslide victory for the Democrats. But it won't. In fact, John Kerry, a devout centrist who voted for the war resolution, the Patriot Act, NAFTA, and the Welfare Reform Act of 1996 that abrogated the only guaranteed income program in American history, will be lucky to squeak past a President who has presided over an immensely unpopular and largely unsuccessful war and an economy that can't produce good jobs but has created wage stagnation for most people.
The three debates between Kerry and Bush have elevated the challenger from a sure loser in early September, to a probable winner, but only if the Democratic Party establishment opposes the GOP's vote-stealing tactics and is willing to fight in the courts and in the streets to prevent another election robbery. If the Democrats put stability ahead of victory they will repeat the 2000 fiasco when Al Gore called upon his followers to quit the barricades and respect the Supreme Court's gift to Bush. If the election hangs on vote fraud, I suspect the DP's Centrist leadership will choose defeat rather than taking the risk of sparking chaos. The DP establishment is, in the first place, republican in classic sense, not democratic.
Even before he vanquished his opponents in the primaries, Kerry knew he has the left and the liberals in his pocket. This cancels out the fundamentalist Christians, except in electoral college terms. Add blacks, a substantial portion of Latinos, legions of party loyalists and he draws even with Bush. Kerry's recitations of Bush's calumnies, especially on the war and the economy, is designed to solidify his base and, simultaneously reach out to undecided constituencies, maybe 3-5% of the vote. Kerry and his handlers have chosen to direct their rhetoric to the dead center. Rather than raising the economic stakes in the campaign by openly adopting a class-based, redistributive perspective or aiming to register new voters currently outside the pool of "likely" voters, Kerry offers himself as the genuine conservative candidate resisting Bush's military Keynesian spending spree.
Make no mistake: invoking fiscal responsibility has nothing to do with the party's populist past: it is reminiscent of the pre-New Deal Franklin Roosevelt who attacked Herbert Hoover as a big spender.
Meanwhile, activist union members, liberal religionists, Move On, American Come Together and dozens of other so-called 527s have raised hundreds of millions of dollars and placed tens of thousands volunteers in the streets, registering maybe two million new voters, especially poor blacks, Latinos and college students. Of course Kerry's key strategists -- the Democratic Leadership Council which Kerry joined long -- has no intention of offering these social formations more than a fig leaf of promises: tuition college credit for students, a higher minimum wage and, folks, that's about it. Uunless you count the senator's exhilarating jobs program i.e. tax credits to businesses that hire American workers. In short, while his liberal tail enlarges the election rolls, Kerry provides no reason except ABB to vote. What's going on? While Bush can dress up as a compassionate conservative, even as he has fostered policies that widen the gap between rich, middle class and poor, the centrists who control the Democratic Party would rather lose than advocate policies that would redistribute wealth. They won't propos to create public jobs with public funds; to establish real homeland security by expanding airport and train inspections (among other measures); to fund more teachers in public school classrooms; to expand environmental protection; to create new low and middle income public housing; to guarantee universal health care; to broaden day care services to unemployed and working parents. Mention the word liberal as Bush has repeatedly done in the last three weeks of the campaign, and the Democrats rip a page from the discredited playbook of Michael Dukakis who, in 1988, renounced ideology in favor of technical competence and threw the election to Bush's father, one of the least able of American presidents. It remains unclear whether the Democrats can be tarnished with labels of "left" and "liberal" in the wake of their blatant surrender of their own progressive traditions, but even if Kerry wins, he will enter the White House with no real mandate for change. His victory would be a signal for liberals and left to climb back into their holes and resume business as usual -- bitching and moaning and warning everybody else to keep quiet, lest the right be resurgent. Guess what? If the right loses on November 2, their 2008 campaign begins on November 3 because they believe they are anointed to rule. On the other hand, since Jimmy Carter's term in office, the Democrats desperately seek defeat.
October 16th
Rough Around the Edges
By Charles O'Brien
I'm not where I want to be.
The 2000 campaign offered two uninspiring candidates in an unheroic time. After a run of fat years, where reflection was scare, and distraction was rife, the electorate was offered competing insurance plans. Even before the Supreme Court, in a new low, voted its preference, the public had been worn down enough to accept any result. 2001 started unpromising. A campaign by stealth and victory by dissimulation had produced a President of obvious limitations. The Republicans were the dominant party, and they were not reticent about wielding power. There was hardly an opposition to speak of. Bush's legislation passed easily, and even his more controversial appointments were confirmed without much fuss.
9/11, as we see, did not change everything. It did change some things, though, and did change some people. But mostly, for most people, it has clarified things. But to some, to many of those who style themselves a Left - here and elsewhere - 9/11 has been a source of befuddlement, the Great Wha Happen??
Whatever a left may be, it should at least have been: unbeholden to Pakistan and Saudi Arabia; unenamored of stability; contemptuous of Islamism; at ease with the idea of force as amelioration. It should have looked at our enemies - and in the first place, it would have needed to see them as enemies, rather than the REVOLUTION, Minute Men, la resistance - as our enemies, of whom our loathing was greater than theirs of us, and said, as Brecht once did:
Von diesen Staedten wird bleiben
der durchdem sie hindurchging, der Wind!
There'll be left, of these cities, what
passed through them, the wind.
Instead, what became the anti-war left, responded with:
a refusal to reconsider -
What you knew at midnight on Sept. 10 was still true at nightfall on Sept. 11, truer than ever. Unsurprising was the unsurprised Chomsky, crying Remember al-Shifa. An article in the Nation praised one anti-war activist who said that two seconds after he heard about the Twin Towers, he realized that he must start organizing immediately. "Don't mourn" didn't use to mean this, quite. The slogan, Justice, Not Revenge, enjoyed a vogue. This is a law enforcement matter. Seeing people jump from the 100th floor led easily enough to the realization that what's wrong with America is the jails are underpopulated. Not In Our Name: it was assumed that military measures undertaken with overwhelming public support and near-unanimous Congressional approval should be forestalled by the disapproval of we few, we self-satisfied few, who didn't see things had changed all that much
an attribution of bad motives -
Afghanistan was invaded to install a gas pipeline (three years later, there is no sign of one, and in fact, negotiations for one were livest during the Clinton administration). Yassir Arafat, Nobel Laureate and statesman, said that the motive was to enable millions of Afghan Jews to come to Palestine to steal land. Iraq was invaded, by forces from 30 countries (and American troops were evacuated from Saudi Arabia, as part of Operation Iraqi Freedom), for one simple reason: oil. And cheaper oil would ensure Bush's re-election. Iraq was invaded at the behest of the Likud1. Jews are behind it. Christian missionaries were to be given the run of the place. (In fact, Iraqi Christians are being driven out.) George W. Bush invaded Iraq to avenge/impress/show up his father, and figures like James Woolsey shared his Oedipal obsession.
This summer, it was announced that certain buildings in New York and Newark were threatened with attacks. For real? No, said Howard Dean, the announcement was made two days after the Democratic convention. (He said this before Kerry's appearance at midnight on the last night of the Republican convention. Kerry couldn't wait one more hour to denounce Dick Cheney for getting a draft deferment when he was 18.) Saddaam's capture in mid-December was timed to coincide with...mid-December. Homeland Security is an excuse to strip us of our rights. Using Richard Reid as a pretext, the Bush administration has got what it wanted all along: to look at the American people's stocking feet.
fake pacifism
There is something admirable about principled pacifists. In some times and places, their pacifism has cost them dearly, even to the death. And when things have been not as harsh, they must still live with the uncomfortable intellectual consequences of their position. Fake pacifism is not admirable. You can't say: Violence is always wrong, and by the way, who're we talking about? "If there is war, people will be killed." True, but in "peace" i.e. non-belligerence, people are killed. What the guy said, you must choose. A magazine with the word "Socialist" in the title ran a cover picture of a boy in a hospital bed with a heavily bandaged leg. And in bold letters, "This is why we oppose the war." A hurt child is evocative, but something other than an argument. What had happened here? Nobody involved with the publication of the photo could be trusted not to lie, so we must speculate. A hurt child in a hospital bed in the world one is up against, such a photo is the pornography of fine feeling is relatively well-off. In the photo, he had a leg, so he had not fallen victim to a Taliban mine. He had a foot, so he had not suffered cross-amputation as shari'a provides for petty theft. If his injury was war-related - and no reason to believe it was what were the war's causes and consequences? Our socialists might have more convincingly declared: this is why we oppose roller skates.
I
And since 9/ll, a long decline. From the earliest interventions for "peace" to Feb. 15, 2003, when the World Said No To War (When in history has The World said no to war? Not on Feb. 15, and not before or after.) to the Deaniac phenomenon to the Kerry candidacy, from the happy few of Not in Our Name to the Band of Brothers.
In the early years of the XX Century, Georg Lukacs, wrestled with his, and Europe's, situation. There is a real grandeur about the enterprise, even if his answer was wrong (and clearly so). He looked at Lenin (and Stalin, and Malenkov, and Khruschev) and saw the Party: History's consummation. But the Party was made up of, and finally was only, these guys.
The opposition to George W. Bush has wished up the alternative to him. They have willed into being the embodiment of Anybody But Bush, and it is this guy. John Kerry is said to be better on domestic issues. It's hard to tell. Much of his campaign has been, "I have a plan", sometimes a secret plan, and you must elect him before he'll fill you in, "I would do things very differently", "I would do a better job". Kerry is as convincing as his is inspiring. FDR was reviled as a traitor to his class. Does anyone believe that of John Kerry?
It's hard to care about his domestic agenda. Single-issue voting is, generally, for suckers. Not this time out. The military trappings of the Democratic convention conceded as much. Well-wishers have urged Kerry (or the Democrats more broadly) to run "to the right" on the war (as if blowing up hitlerians were the special province of the right!), or even claiming that he's actually doing so..
Where is Kerry on the war? The Republicans call him a "flip-flopper"; his supporters call him "nuanced". Nearer to the truth would be to note Kerry's parallel lives. John Kerry was an early opponent of the Vietnam War; tried to get a deferment to study in France; was a leader of the V.V.A. W.' was a generic Democrat from Massachusetts; advocated the freeze; and was generally dovish; was sympathetic to the Sandinistas; voted against the first Gulf War; opposed, or something, the war in Iraq; is international-minded. John Kerry volunteered for the Navy during the Vietnam War; solicited decorations there; re-enacted his exploits there on film; became a prosecutor; supported, or something, the war in Iraq; has, past parody, run on his military career, culminating in his "reporting for duty" shtik this summer. If it turns out that there's no real John Kerry in the space between (no "moral core"), that's just gossip. What matters is which of the two Kerry's would govern. The warlike one is the opportunist one, most consistently on display at his stealth convention. The unwarlike one is, if not his "core", certainly his base.
"Respected in the world." He has promised to convene a summit. A summit! Summits are hardly even news, much less the main objective of an administration's foreign policy. And who would attend this summit, and to what end? France insists that les resistants from Iraq be there. At that table, who would be dinner? Kerry frequently invokes "our allies". But nobody is inherently "our allies". The United States, has gone to war against England and Germany; very nearly done so against France and Russia. Syria signed on for the first Gulf War; with any luck we will soon oversee the destruction of the regime there. "Our allies", you'd think, are those that are allied with us. But no, says Kerry, those actually allied with us are only a "coalition of the coerced and bribed". In fact, the coerced Zapatero and the bribed Chirac are both leaders who would prefer a Kerry presidency (and would still not lift a finger to help the American effort). "Our allies" might include Russia: would Kerry like to see Grozny methods rolled out in Iraq? Ultimately, for Kerry, "our allies"" is France. Think of the last French election. Jospin was the candidate of the generic, generically anti-American left and of those with a nostalgia for the good old days of solidarity with the FLN. Le Pen, as much as he detests North African immigrants, finds the Americans and the Jews still more odious, and so supports the Iraqi Baa'th Party. Chirac has been in bed with Saaddam forever. The counterweight to all this is John Kerry's charm.
John Kerry's faith in the United Nations Organization is well past a sell-by date. Since Sept. 12, 2002, the American public has seen, over and over, the U.N. display its incapacity and bad faith. When Kofi Annan, advertising his ignorance, called the Iraq War "illegal", he left unanswered, what would, or could, he then do about it? George W. Bush, against all opprobrium, distinguished the U.N. from the League of Nations - presumably Annan's job by enforcing its binding resolutions at the cost of American blood.
But enough about summits, allies, U.N.'s, all those non-voting constituencies. They won't determine the war's course, as long as Kerry is not President.2 Kerry's own inclinations we can guess at. What Bush calls (not too felicitously) the Global War on Terror, Kerry distinguishes into the pursuit of Usaama Bin Laadin (good) and the war in Iraq (not so good). Take Iraq first. Kerry says he would have fought it "better". Bush, he says, "rushed to war." Bush did no such thing, and a war launched in March 2002 might have been better. (It's not hard to imagine a Michael Moore style documentary only true about that year's grace given Saddaam3. Bush failed to get the U.N.'s support: not needed, and not possible. Bush should only have gone to war "as a last resort" (by which Kerry means "never"). Kerry says that Saddaam had no ties to al-qaa'ida (untrue); that Saddaam posed no imminent threat, even though Bush said exactly that -- part of his doctrine of pre-emption was the obsolescence of imminence as a policy consideration; and that Iraq had no WMD's. On this last point, there are many opinions. My own is that Saddaam did have them. If you don't know what happened to them, assume the worst (as Saddaam's conduct warranted). "It's not here" doesn't equal "It doesn't' exist". Ricin has appeared in Europe A major attack with chemical weapons was reportedly attempted in Jordan, the objectives 80,000 deaths. Syria recently tested poison gas on civilians in Darfur. But Kerry says only, no WMD. He says that Bush has offered 23 separate rationales for toppling Saddaam (and surely there were many more than 23 rationales for doing so). If Kerry denies the war's justifications, how would he support it? His "major speech" on the war, at NYU, was all about getting out, complete with disastrously timetables. When he talks, as he does intermittently, about staying the course in Iraq, he is like nothing so much as a prosecutor pressing a meritless case because letting the innocent defendant off might make the office look bad. Which is worse, the ethics, or the tactics?
Iraq apart, Kerry's version of the war is, it's a big law-enforcement operation. If we're attacked, we'll hit back (Thanks). We will continue the hunt for UBL (even though there is no reason to think he is alive, and his death has resolved/will resolve next to nothing). Bush "took his eye of the ball in Tora Bora." although we don't know that UBL was there; although our utmost military presence there could not have guaranteed UBL's apprehension there; although lingering Sept. 10 sentiment at home and Bush's perhaps unavoidable deference to it worked to prevent such a presence. Iraq was a "distraction" all the while American special ops are successfully engaging the enemy all around the world. Bush's approach is a restrained maximalism. Kerry's is too little, too late, cops and robbers and joint declarations. The enemy, has promised the "storm of planes" will continue; John Kerry threatens a flurry of (unenforceable) arrest warrants.
In a long article in the New York Times Magazine, he is quoted comparing terror to prostitution. (All right, where is his moral core?) Prostitutes should be treated with respect, jihadis exterminated. On October 11, Michael Meehan, a senior spokesman for the Kerry campaign, was on tv trying to explain Kerry's comments away. He insinuated that Kerry's comments which the Bush campaign, understandably, had seized on had been made up. Meehan added this: Kerry as a young man had "fought terrorists." That "terrorist" is a malleable term has long been well-known, and that John Kerry can put Vietnam to just about any use is not unfamiliar, but this conjunction is, well, inventive. And there are "terrorists" and "terrorists." Muhammad Ali said that no Viet Cong every called him nigger. But every al Quaeda calls him, and all of us, kaffir. And when the last American helicopter left Saigon, it was with the understanding that we'd never have to lay eyes on them again, that they'd never have to lay eyes on us again. In this war, there is no such understanding. It is the opposite understanding that has caused the war. And if what John Kerry did there was "fighting terrorists", does he think he got the job done?
Kerry's problem is not just that he hasn't learned anything since Sept 10, 2001, but that he hasn't learned anything in the past 30 years. He rarely talks about his twenty years in the Senate (or as the ponderous John Forbes Kerry says, the senate of the United States), and George Bush says it's because his record there is too undistinguished and too liberal. Rather, it's too recent, and Kerry can't make sense of it to himself. During his debates with George Bush, Kerry said that he had a plan, yes, and that, yes, he could do better, but he also said that George Bush offered "more of the same." Now Kerry is nothing but more of the same. As he told the Times, "We have to get back to the place we were". The Kerry campaign has uttered the phrase, "as a young man", more than VH-I ever has. Kerry's musical references stand looking at. In one report, Peter Yarrow (of Peter Paul & Mary) was traveling on Kerry's campaign bus, the Real Deal Express would John Kerry, when not condescending to the public, describe anything as the "real deal"? and at one point, Kerry said to him, "Give us a song, Pedro?" Pedro? For a while, his campaign was using Jimi Hendrix's "Fire" as a theme song. "Let me stand next to your fire." John Kerry? They also played Elvis Presley's "A Little Less Conversation", a song they should have known Dick Cheney, curled lip and all, owns. And lately, Bruce Springsteen's "No Retreat, No Surrender" has become their official song a song, 20 years old, about nostalgia. If Kerry had any sense, he would have gone to Tyrone Davis for a theme song: not this one's too easy "Baby, Can I Change My Mind?", but "If I Could Turn Back the Hands of Time."
II
The house of Bush-hatred has many mansions. Here are a few of the main complaints.
He's a drunken frat boy.
That frat boy belongs to the same college fraternity as John Kerry did. Bush used to drink and now doesn't. And...? The Democratic Party, whose song was once "Happy Days Are Here Again", now purses it lips and thinks that because it is virtuous that there shall be no more cakes and ale.4
Florida.
The 2000 election is said to have been stolen. First, whoever will defend Samir al-Arian or Ralph Nader or the U.S. Supreme Court needs to be quiet about this. Second, we should recall what the two parties said at the time. The Republicans said simply that they had won. The Democrats said, over and over, Count every vote.5 The Republicans could exclude whatever votes they liked. The Democrats could exclude none, and only argue vainly, it turned out for votes here and there. Unconscionable as the Republicans' methods were, and however many if-onlies the Democrats had, Gore never had the majority of Florida's votes in hand. The result was certainly unfair, but the election can't be called stolen at most, expropriated.
2002 was to be the payback for the recount battles. It wasn't. Today, Jeb Bush is the easily re-elected Governor, and Katherine Harris is in the House of Representatives. The Florida and Federal legislatures are solidly Republican. The Bush v. Gore 5 still sit on the Supreme Court. As rallying cries go, "Florida" is pretty wan.
His assault on civil liberties.
In fact, people can speak, write, assemble as they please. George W. Bush can be freely called, among other things, traitor and deserter both capital offenses. On the other side, Michael Moore announces that he has a team of defamation lawyers primed to protect Fahrenheit 9/11 from criticism; the Kerry campaign's legal muscle sends threatening letters to tv stations to try to dissuade them from running hostile ads; and Chad Clanton, a spokesman for the same campaign, says of Sinclair Broadcasting, who will broadcast an anti-Kerry film, "They better hope we don't win."
His whole manner.
And this one covers a lot. Bush, like Kerry is a New Englander. But Bush has turned himself into a Texan kind of a hyper-Texan. It might be useful to think of it as performance art. Not every Texan owns a ranch, or wears Western clothes, or walks that way.
It is his speech that is most hyper-Texan and farthest removed from his roots. Think of him, the son of George H.W. Bush, and familiar from childhood with Washington insiders, addressing Vladimir Putin as Pooty-Poot. He has been eloquent, when occasion demanded, but his usual slapdash speech is a foreswearing of eloquence. Jay Leno occasionally runs clips of Bush speaking Spanish where he is easy, unhalting, in full command followed by Bush in English two or three pratfalls on the way to an awkward conclusion. In 2000,m the Bush campaign was accused of inserting subliminal messages in a tv ad. Asked about it, Bush struggled with the word, managing no better than something like sublimimable. The performance raised two questions, both answered, No: Can this guy get to the end of one four-syllable world? And, Can this guy be devious enough to play with people's heads? And notice: only the second question matters. His gaffes are famous putting food on your family, etc. but you know what he means. It's easy to put his verbal gaffes down to stupidity, except that you don't know what he knows. To someone in thrall to Enlightenment ideology, he must seem the very image of the unenlightened: malicious and dumb. Better, he just started from a different point of view.
The cultural gap between Bush and those who detest him also involves his religion. He is regarded as a fanatic, an extremist. But he's a Methodist, not a snake handler. The upper reaches of his own denomination condemned the invasion of Iraq (testimony, of course, to their firm conscience and high principle). It is something of a commonplace that George W. Bush is Usaama's mirror image. Though this be Methodism, yet there's madness to it! It is odd that Bush should be attacked for meaning the professions that public figures make. And it's odd that he should be far more forbearing toward the secular-minded than they are toward him.
He has made the world, and America in particular, a more dangerous place.
The world is a dangerous place. Bush acknowledges that fact. Was America safer in 1993 or 1999, or 2000? John Kerry likes to call attention to the 1,000 Americans dead in Iraq. But the choice, in Iraq or elsewhere, was never between 1,000 deaths or zero. The almost 3,000 dead in New York could easily have been a much higher number. Nobody should think there can't be another major attack here, nor that it can't involve some sort of WMD. Against the 1,000 dead in Iraq we should put the something like 2,000,000 lives taken by jihad in Sudan alone.
We're not at the end of anything. But the more resolved, the sooner resolved.
III
The "left" opposition to Bush today embodied in John Kerry's candidacy - involves no principle worth holding. It is no more than resting on class prejudice, wishing away unpleasantness, and shoring up certitude with fantasy. It finds Bush, above all, unsettling. Mickey Kaus, of Slate, who certainly has no illusions about John Kerry nevertheless endorsed him, because Bush was just too much excitement. A while ago, it was revealed that The Osbournes was George Bush's favorite tv program; and so, Ozzy was invited to a dinner where he could meet Bush. Catching sight of the President, he lowered his head and shook it back and forth. He called out to Bush, "Ya should wear your hair like this." Bush answered: "Second term, Oz!" And yet Ozzy has declined to endorse the President's re-election. It's understandable: Ozzy's been through a lot and is a delicate mechanism.
The rest of us have nothing to fear.
Notes
1 While the world was focused on the war in Iraq, Israel would ethnically cleanse the territories, or even the pre-67 Israel. No such thing happened, of course, although the Cuban regime did take advantage of the time by launching a new wave of repression.
2 After the fall of Saddaam, Donald Rumsfeld was in Europe, addressing a group of political leaders there. He noted that some of those present had declared themselves neutral as between Saddaam and the United States. "Shocking. Absolutely shocking," he said, and there wasn't a peep out of them. Kerry's "reaching out' would include nothing so forceful.
3 Actually, twelve years' grace, since Saddaam had started violating the cease-fire in 1991,and the penalty for violations of cease-fires is, though it's often forgotten, the full resumption of hostilities.
4 Bush and Kerry complement each other nicely. Kerry wants his life to end in his early twenties. When, under pressure, he points to his record as a legislator, it's embarrassing. Bush and this excites resentment writes off his life before 40 as wayward youth. But why shouldn't he? His finds his earlier self wearisome, and who would expect anything there a DWI? to hold any great interest to anyone else?
In his way, George W. Bush is truer to the spirit of the Sixties. A tab of acid, or whatever else, could be that the thing that made your past life a thing of the past.
5 i.e. they never claimed they had won and can't now claim they were robbed of a victory.
October 15, 2004
Vote and Die
By Kurt Vonnegut
OUR PLANET'S IMMUNE SYSTEM IS OBVIOUSLY TRYING TO GET RID OF US, AND HIGH TIME! BUT VOTE FOR SOMEBODY ANYWAY. WHAT THE HELL.
September 24, 2004
]]>Beyond Terror: Strategy in a Changing World by Ralph Peters
Fighting for the Future: Will America Triumph? by Ralph Peters
Flames of Heaven: A Novel of the End of the Soviet Union by Ralph Peters
The Perfect Soldier by Ralph Peters
The Devil's Garden by Ralph Peters
Traitor by Ralph Peters
Faded Coat of Blue by Owen Parry
"...the Cold War deformed American strategic thought and our applied values beyond recognition. From the amoral defender of Europe's rotten empires, we descended to an immoral propping up of every soulless dictator who preferred our payments to those offered by Moscow. We utterly rejected our professed values, consistently struggling against genuine national liberation movements because we saw the hand of Moscow wherever a poor man reached out for food or asked for dignity. At our worst in the Middle East, we unreservedly supported--or enthroned--medieval despots who suppressed popular liberalization efforts, thus driving moderate dissidents into the arms of fanatics. From our diplomatic personnel held hostage in Iran a generation ago, to the 11 September 2001 terrorist attack on the United States, we have suffered for our support of repressive, "stable² regimes that radicalized their own impoverished citizens. In the interests of stability, we looked the other way while secret police tortured and shabby armies massacred their own people, from Iran to Guatemala. But the shah always falls.
Would that we could tattoo that on the back of every diplomat's hand: The shah always falls."
Until recently, this sort of thing was branded sententious moralism from aging New Left academics, or from bien pensant editorialists, and a certain amount of it still appears in such places, and from such people. But the passage is in fact excerpted from an essay written on September 13, 2001, by a recently retired Lieutenant Colonel, a specialist in intelligence who has worked in more than fifty countries. Ralph Peters, who in his most demotic voice writes for the New York Post, was in this case writing in Parameters, a US Army War College quarterly. If you have absorbed the prejudices of the faculty dining room, it is initially a little startling to discover this sort of political temperament in an army officer.
But upon reflection, an enthusiasm for instability is at the present moment an imperfect guide to membership in our moral elect. After all, university-based critics of the Iraq war have now joined up with 'liberal' newspaper columnists -- and with gentlemanly paleo-con alumni of the first Bush Administration -- to deprecate what is dismissed as a neo-con enthusiasm for reordering the Middle East. 'Wilsonian' is again as ugly an epithet on the Left as it has always been in the mouth of Henry Kissinger. And this political shift takes in more rhetorical ground than one might suspect.
"Any country or culture that suppresses half its population, excluding them from economic contribution and wasting energy keeping them out of the school and workplace is not going to perform...The point isn't really the fear that women will steal jobs in Country X. Rather, it's a fundamental fear of women -- or of a cultural caricature of women as incapable, stupid, and worrisomely sexual...It is difficult for any human being to share power already possessed. Authority over their women is the only power many males will ever enjoy."
Again, Ralph Peters in Parameters, assessing leading indicators of political failure. A few years ago, this was Left-talk; in some quarters, it is now pilloried as Islamophobia. In its defense, one can say only that it seems to be true. In any case, it raises an interesting question: why have people who until recently swore by these truths never heard of Ralph Peters?
***
SWINDON
What do you expect me to think of that speech, Mr. Anderson?
RICHARD
I never expect a soldier to think, sir.
Burgoyne is boundlessly delighted by this retort, which almost reconciles him to the loss of America.
George Bernard Shaw, The Devil's Disciple, Act III
The joke is now more than a hundred years old -- Three Plays for Puritans was published in 1897 -- and it continues to delight people, especially intellectuals, who run to vanity about their putative monopoly on serious thinking. It is tempting to say that one's amusement at the gag may be inversely proportional to one's knowledge of soldiers, but that probably isn't true: Marine officers in Vietnam seem to have been great fans of Catch 22, and I get the impression that conscripts have always liked jokes about regulars, while people who've served a hitch in the regular army like jokes about people who make a career of it. On all the available evidence, the authoritarianism of military life abrades most people at least a little bit, with laughter at one's tormentors a balm. In any event, General Haig cast a long shadow; the laughter has been more savage, and more widespread, since 1914. I first came across Shaw's joke as a teenager, during the Vietnam War, and that may explain my initial rhapsody over it, but again, probably not: at least some of the émigrés in the 10th Mountain Division, who carried The Good Soldier Schweik into battle during WWII, knew and loved Shaw's gibe. For quite a while, though, the joke has sounded exasperatingly smug when told by people with a lazy assumption about their own intellectual superiority, and now Ralph Peters has more or less ruined it for me.
Peters is the author of seventeen books, fourteen of them novels, three of them collections of essays and journalism. He enlisted in the Army as a private in 1976, serving in a mechanized infantry division, was commissioned in 1980 as a second lieutenant in military intelligence, and rose to the rank of lieutenant colonel by 1998. Recently retired, a decision made to allow fuller criticism of American policy, he continues to publish those remarkable essays in Parameters, and has branched out into almost daily journalism. The essays published in Parameters, available on-line as well as in the collections, are some of the most radical writing published on what is known as the revolution in military affairs -- the changes in warfare wrought by the synergy between a number of new technologies -- and on strategy.
They also contain serial appraisals of the coming international environment, and Peters' track record has been pretty good. In the immediate wake of the Soviet implosion, he was less optimistic than most about the likely future, and the essays, which began appearing in the early nineteen nineties, have for the most part proved eerily prescient: Peters was taking religion seriously for a decade before it became a respectable topic for strategists, and he foresaw something like 9/11 at a time when Dr. Pangloss seemed to be writing half of what was published on international relations, and Sax Rohmer the other half. Peters was neither a triumphalist nor a Sinophobe: he saw trouble coming from the Arab core of the Islamic world, more optimistic about Indonesia and Turkey, and cautious although not despairing about Pakistan -- and in the near term, he was not optimistic about a lot of the rest of the planet, either. He was, however, optimistic about the United States. He wrote fascinating pieces on the likely evolution of urban warfare and armored forces, and on the probable political environment in a number of the post-Soviet successor states, (and in other Islamic polities), places where he had served as an intelligence office -- although that category takes in a lot of ground; in addition to a job in the Pentagon, Peters has served, worked or traveled in something like sixty countries. His relative obscurity on the Left, and in the academy, has something to do with the fact that neither the Left nor the professors spent the 'nineties reading intelligence officers publishing in service journals -- in 1997, as in 1897, no-one expected a solider to think.
He remains relatively obscure in those quarters because people like us do not spend much time surfing the blogosphere, where Peters has a lot of fans. Neither group spends too much time reading Murdoch tabloids, for one of which Peters started writing after 9/11. When he appears on television, it is likely to be on Fox -- probably strike three. But even if we had been reading him, the content of Peters' thinking would probably put him beyond the pale in our circles, and that is a shame, because Peters fuses an authentic radicalism about foreign policy with a commitment to what remains a Left position on domestic policy and the meaning of American history.
The most depressing part of the current debate on 9/11 and the Iraq war is the Left's conviction that in some sense, we had it coming: that 9/11 was the result of our enemies having legitimate grievances, and that they can be appeased. If you think this, Peters is an invaluable corrective, for he is eloquent on the multiple sources of irrational, murderous and probably unshakeable resentment of the United States. His feminism, his patriotism and his hawkishness fuse: he is passionately convinced that the unprecedented sexual egalitarianism of American society is not the least important cause of the furies we have roused. On his account, we are hated at least as much for our virtues as for our vices: our relative tolerance, our cultural fluidity, our innovativeness in the face of much of the world's conservatism, and our dynamism in the face of much of the world's stagnation, are at least as maddening as our position on the Kyoto accord and our support of Israel. On his account, our wealth, inexplicable other than as an example of spectacular and vicious predation, is a profound cause of the hatred we have aroused. And Peters sees an intimate relationship between our feminism and our wealth: he is struck by the remarkable correlation between our new sexual meritocracy and American economic performance over the last quarter century. Our wealth is rarely explained this way, even in our own society, but for Peters the correlation is overwhelming: in his words, we are running a wartime economy 365 days a year.
On Peters' account, for many people in less successful (or failing) societies, the comparison to America is inevitable and shaming, so that the immense and intractable difficulties of parts of what was once too-optimistically known as "the developing world" make us simultaneously alluring and enraging, and if we abandon the Israelis, significant number of people are still going to want to kill us like flies. For Peters, the Palestinians deserve a state, but our troubles are unlikely to diminish much when they get one. The gap between our success and the achievements of those who hate and fear us is likely to keep growing: the demographic, military, technological, social and economic trends are mutually reinforcing, and all work in our favor. He thinks that even an Administration with a domestic policy he clearly deplores is unlikely to do much to slow the trends. Peters' belief in our current and continuing success are possibly reasons for his obscurity in our circles: a significant section of the Left, like a good chunk of the Right, does not go in for relatively cheery assessments of this society.
But Peters probably can't help it: he seems to have spent almost all of his adult life abroad, and he is apparently the first one in his family for six generations not to scrabble out a living in the Pennsylvania coal mines. He knows how a lot of the rest of the world lives and thinks, also how most of us used to live and think; compared to the competition, and to our own history, he thinks we're looking pretty good. He is not a culture warrior, not least because he has trouble working up a sweat about even the silliest Eng. Lit. profs: in the scale of dangerous cultural authorities in comparative perspective, Eng. Lit. profs must surely rank near the bottom of the chart. He has trouble deploring a mass culture that puts cheap paperback editions of most of world literature in every Borders store and Barnes and Noble, because he remembers how hard it was to come by that range of good books in much of America only a generation ago. I suspect that our racial troubles look different if you have spent your life in an Army that has probably come closer to solving them than has any other part of the society, and in a profession that keeps tabs on what ethnic conflict looks like in Bosnia, Pakistan, Rwanda and Gujurat.
Life in America can be sad and cruel, but these do not seem to be its most salient characteristics for someone who spent the better part of a decade in the wreckage of the Soviet Union, where some of Peters' best novels are set. Similarly, while Peters is steeped in European high culture -- he translates German Romantic novels for pleasure, and collects Russian paintings -- Europe has none of the startling allure that it has for Americans who are inner émigrés in Bush's America. This is probably because Peters lived in Europe for decades, speaks the languages (he is trilingual in German, English and Russian, and gets around in a lot of other languages), and has watched the moral acuity of Western Europe in action, in contexts like Srebenica, or in the Germany that saw skinheads cut out the tongues of Vietnamese guest workers after the wall came down.
It is instructive to look at the historical novels Peters publishes under the name of Owen Parry. Peters dislikes aristocratic cultures, he is indeed not much enraptured by social or cultural hierarchies of any sort, and he sees the Civil War as our decisive break with a hierarchical society. The Owen Parry novels are genre fiction, mysteries set during the American Civil War, and what is initially astonishing about these novels is their depiction of the brutality and irresponsibility of American elites. To a remarkable extent, Peter's 19th century patricians and industrialists look as if they had wandered into his books from the pages of Howard Zinn. In correspondence, Peters argued that there is no contradiction between the America of his historical novels and his striking patriotism: we are in his view an unprecedentedly open society now because of a couple of centuries of political struggle. Our racism, our cruelty, the savagery and greed of our elites, were beaten down by mass movements in the course of a very long fight.
As Peters sees it, we now have a chance to help out others in comparable struggles, and while the odds of failure are real, he is not always averse to our taking a chance. While not universally enthusiastic about American intervention in other people's fights, he knows too much about the truly hideous cruelty of the state of affairs in much of the world to recite cheap pieties about our hubris. He was one of the people who initially advised against intervention in the Yugoslavian succession crisis, and now thinks that he was very wrong to have done so. Intervention in Iraq may looks less hubristic if you have known people who had the sublime arrogance to tell the citizens of Sarajevo -- and subsequently the Tutsi -- that their hope of rescue was a utopian fantasy. Peters is unimpressed by the new rhapsody over multi-lateralism, by what he takes to crocodile tears accompanying de facto (and appalling) cynicism, and by the insistence that the Administration could have readily forged a broad alliance to liquidate fascism in Iraq:
"We must accept, from today onward, that America shall often need to act alone or with a handful of courageous allies. Increasingly, we will need to do that which we recognize as strategically and morally necessary, disregarding those states, in Europe and elsewhere, that weep so readily for the dead while caring so little for the living."
And Peters is eloquent on the moral and strategic idiocy of making stability the cornerstone of our foreign policy, when in the wake of the Iraq war worship of the virtues of stability is becoming the conventional wisdom at both ends of our political spectrum, and in portions closer to the middle, too:
"...the consistent, pervasive goal of Washington's foreign policy is stability. America's finest values are sacrificed to keep bad governments in place, dysfunctional borders intact, and oppressed human beings well-behaved. In one of the greatest acts of self-betrayal in history, the nation that long was the catalyst of global change and which remains the beneficiary of international upheaval has made stability its diplomatic god. Our insistence on stability above all stands against the tides of history, and that is always a losing proposition. Nonetheless, our efforts might be understandable were they in our national interest. But they are not..."
We are entering a campaign season in which some Democrats look set to run on the absurd pretence that there was an obvious third choice between war and leaving Saddam in place, others on the shameful program that the fate of the Iraqis was none of our business. Simultaneously, some Republicans look set to run on the promise that overturning what remains of the New Deal is the answer to our troubles, others with the implication that we need to return to a social order Islamic fundamentalists would in fact find more congenial. At such a time, Peters makes for interesting reading, not least in his attempt to find an idiom for explaining the true complexities of modern war and international politics to people who take the bus to work, and are paid by the week, while simultaneously writing for his fellow professionals (in different places). The general combination of bleakness and confidence is remarkable, and brave. I think it was Camus who said that we all need the courage to imagine the real, and in imagining some deeply dispiriting political realities, as well as in writing about former and perhaps future employers, Peters is genuinely fearless. He has a splendid contempt for the bounds of respectable discourse, and for the prejudices and sensibilities of the allies of the moment. In the middle of the Iraq war, he was writing the most savage criticism of Rumsfeld that saw the light of day outside the ghetto of the hard-line anti-war camp. In contemporary America, some of the soldiers seem to be thinking all the time. That, I fear, is more than you can say for their employers, or their newly-solicitous friends on the editorial and Op Ed pages.
"It is a significant point that in America, where Burgoyne was an enemy and an invader, he was admired and praised. The climate there is no doubt more favorable to intellectual vivacity." From Shaw's notes to The Devil's Disciple, 1897
]]>[The Department of Defense's annual] budget is really a point in a time continuum linking us to the past and to the future. Viewed from this perspective, the DoD's financial management problems can be summed up quite succinctly: Both links are broken. The historical books cannot pass the routine audits required by law and planning data systematically misrepresent the future consequences of current decisions. The double breakdown in these information links makes it impossible for decision-makers to assemble the information needed to synthesize a coherent defense plan that is both accountable to the American people and responsive to the changing threats, opportunities, and constraints of an uncertain world.
The Breakdown Between the Present and the Past
There can be no dispute over the contention that the link connecting the present with the past is broken. One needs only to glance at the pile of reports produced by the General Accounting Office and the Defense Department's Inspector General as well as the final report of Mr. Stephen Friedman's financial transformation panel (Transforming Department of Defense Financial Management: A Strategy for Change) to appreciate the rich variety of detailed information about the incredibly complex nature of the Defense Department's bookkeeping shambles. Yet within that variety, these reports converge on two central conclusions.
First, the Defense Department's accounting systems do not provide the information needed to relate financial inputs to policy outputs. The Friedman report says, for example, these systems do not provide reliable information that "tells managers the costs of forces or activities that they manage and the relationship of funding levels to output, capability or performance of those forces or activities." A logical consequence of this conclusion is that unreliable accounting information makes it impossible to link the intended consequences of past decisions to the defense budget now before Congress...
Second, these reports agree that the Pentagon's bookkeeping systems do not comply with legal requirements of the Chief Financial Officers (CFO) Act of 1990. This conclusion goes well beyond the principles of sound financial management and strikes at the soul of the Constitution. The CFO Act requires government agencies to pass annual audits of the links between an executive agency's expenditures and the legally enacted appropriations authorizing those expenditures. This audit requirement is intended to sharpen the teeth of the Appropriations and Accountability Clauses in the Constitution, Article 1, Section 9, Clause 7, which says, "No Money shall be drawn from the Treasury, but in Consequence of Appropriations made by Law; and a regular Statement and Account of the Receipts and Expenditures of all public Money shall be published from time to time." This clause, as we all know, assigns the power of the purse to Congress, and it does so with language that denotes (1) a clear and absolute prohibition on spending (i.e., "No Money") and (2) an all-encompassing requirement for accountability (i.e, "all public Money"). The sweeping construction allows no room for exception...It is therefore clear that a finding of non-compliance with the CFO Act is a dagger aimed at the heart of American constitutional theory -- the idea of making the government accountable to the people via a legal system of checks and balances -- a system, I might add that everyone in the Federal Government has sworn freely and without reservation to uphold, protect and defend.
In conclusion, the breakdown in the link between the past and present carries with it profound managerial, constitutional, and moral implications. The historical accounting shambles is a crisis, and it must be rectified as soon as possible, but this is only half the story: We face a double crisis, because the accounting systems that link the present budget to the future are also a shambles.
The Plans Reality Mismatch
The information in our database...shows a repetitive bias to grossly understate future costs is typical of weapons programs in the early stages of their acquisition life cycles. In part, this bias is a natural result of uncertainty -- as weapons get more complex, it becomes more difficult to predict what they will eventually cost. But more importantly, in my opinion, the bias reflects the first step in an ubiquitous two-step bureaucratic gaming strategy, known as Front--loading and Political Engineering .
Brutally stated: the aim of this gaming strategy is to turn on the money spigot and lock it open.
Front-loading is the art of planting seed money today while downplaying the future consequences of a decision to spend that money. While it takes many forms, the most well known form is the so-called "Milestone II Buy-In," a deliberately "low-balled" estimate of future costs made to obtain a Milestone II approval in a weapons acquisition program. A Milestone II approval is crucially important, because it allows an acquisition program to move into concurrent engineering and manufacturing development (EMD). Once EMD is approved, the defense contractor can begin to "invest" contract dollars (i.e., tax dollars) in building a geographically distributed production base as well as a nationwide network of suppliers. The EMD decision, in effect, gives the contractor permission to use public money to build his political protection network by systematically spreading subcontracts and production facilities to as many congressional districts as possible. This spreading operation is the second step in the gaming strategy and is known as political engineering.
The goal is to raise the political stakes before the true costs of the front-loaded program become apparent. By the time these costs emerge, the series of sequential adjustments in the succession of Future Years Defense Plans (or FYDPs) have bought enough time and desensitized decision makers to the effects of additional production cutbacks, while the political cost of a fundamental redirection (i.e., termination) has become prohibitive. So, decision-makers on both sides of the Potomac take the easy way out: they cut back production rates to reduce total costs in order to protect the jobs and profits of their constituents.
While these power games may work to get programs started in the short term, they create a brain lock that produces a vicious cycle of decay over the long term.
The Boom and Bust Cycle of Decay
The "low-balled" cost projections made during the pre-production phase of a weapon's life cycle permit too many new programs to get stuffed into the out years of the FYDP. This sets the stage for repeated increments of cost growth and ever-rising pressure to grow the entire defense budget.
But the budget cannot grow as fast as the unit costs of front-loaded programs increase and eventually a retrenchment sets in. At the same time, the effects of political engineering paralyze decision-makers and induce them to absorb the cost growth through inefficient expediencies, like repeated production stretch-outs in lieu of terminations. The lower rates of production naturally decrease the rate of inventory turnover, which increases the age of weapons and makes them more expensive to operate, thereby driving up the operating budget. But the increasing age of the equipment also increases the pressure to transfer money from the operating budget to the modernization budget, while the rising cost of operating the older weapons makes it more difficult to do so. Consequently, cost pressure builds up rapidly over time, and a kind of boom and bust cycle is born: Budget retrenchments like those in the 1970s and 1990s make problems worse, which are followed by budget expansions that naturally overreach when the front loaders and political engineers plant the seeds for anther round of outyear underfunding problems, as happened in 1980s. Over time, the cycle of decay takes the form of the so-called death spiral of shrinking combat forces, decreasing rates of modernization, aging weapons inventories, with the rising cost of operations creating continual pressure to reduce readiness...
Strategic Planning
By far, the most important internal constraint shaping the evolution of our military capabilities is the perpetual budget squeeze. Since this squeeze is a consequence of habitual behavior patterns that produce an economic relationship wherein costs always grow faster than budgets, a necessary condition for a competent decision-making activity is to make the long-term consequences of this asymmetry evident before decision-makers lock themselves into a given course of action. But a requirement to make the long-term consequences of current decisions visible before the fact embodies a necessary pre-condition: Reliable information.
Job 1, therefore, is to fix the Pentagon's accounting problems, or at least reduce them to an acceptable level.
Fixing the books is not sufficient to produce a sound strategy, but it is self-evident that a more reliable description of our internal conditions, as well as the future consequences of changes to those conditions, would give planners the wherewithal to better understand a given defense program in terms of its perceived match-up, or mismatch, with external reality.
The end of the Cold War in 1990 provided a unique opportunity to take decisive action without jeopardizing our national security, but that opportunity was squandered over the next decade. And now the open-ended war on terrorism makes the required fix far more difficult.
But the war should not be used as an excuse to live with the status quo. To be sure, a decisive correction will be more painful today than it otherwise might have been, yet the readiness and modernization problems that emerged in the late 1990s, together with the exploding bow wave, cry more urgently for action to put the Defense Department on a more sustainable pathway into the future. Moreover, the crisis in intensified by the fact that we must get our house in order before the demographic time bomb of retiring baby boomers starts sucking money out of the federal tax base early in the next decade. To be decisive, the military services must first produce better decision-making information. It will take at least a year to begin the necessary book-cleaning operation, yet during that time, we must provide the military with resources to fight the war on terrorism.
Conclusion
In the late Nineteenth Century, Britan's Royal Navy bestrode the world's oceans like a colossus when compared to other Navies, but, it should be noted, to a lesser extent than the U.S. military relates to the rest of world's conventional forces today. Strategic planners in the Royal Navy adopted what came to be known as the Two Power Standard to maintain their superiority. They used this standard to plan for the Royal Navy's budgets, particularly its battleship modernization program. The Two Power Standard simply meant that the Royal Navy should maintain a battleship fleet that was at least as powerful as the next two biggest fleets combined, which were those of United States and Germany. Note that this standard was applied to friend as well as foe. If we applied the logic of this standard to the current U.S. defense budget, the next two biggest spenders would be Russia and China (about $102B total). So, a Two Power Standard applied to the United States defense budget would reduce the current budget by over 70 percent...
It might be feared that even thinking about lower defense budgets will create a self-fulfilling prophecy, because it will open the door to opportunistic budget-cutting by an irresponsible OSD or Congress. This argument plays well in the mendacious atmosphere of Washington. But it must be rejected for logical as well as moral reasons: To say that the Pentagon should continue producing irresponsible plans, because acting responsibly will provoke OSD or Congress into acting irresponsibly leads to the conclusion that we should deliberately misrepresent our needs; in other words, we are justified in committing a crime -- lying to Congress -- because we are morally superior.
Strategy is not a game; it is the art of the possible in a world where changing threats and constraints force us to choose between unpleasant or imperfect alternatives. The aim of any strategy should be to continuously improve our capacity to shape and adapt to these changes. To do this, we must continually strive to improve the "fit" of our plans to the reality we face today while preserving or increasing our fitness to cope with unpredictable changes in the future. If we want meaningful strategic priorities, we must understand the tradeoffs they imply before we make rigid commitments that lock us into a long-term, non-adaptive course of action. Who knows, with a little accountability, perhaps the Pentagon can learn to think before it spends. That might help the President and Congress adapt our military forces to the end of the Cold War, balance the budget, avoid a budget war with Social Security and Medicare, and preserve the integrity of the Constitution.
Franklin Spinney's full Statement is available online at www.d-n-i.net/fcs/spinney_testimony_060402.htm
]]>FOTM:In the Soul of Capitalism you argue that Americans must re-invent the economic engine that's made America the richest country on earth. Tell us why you predict a change in Wall Street's core values is "likely to occur."
GREIDER:In an ironic way, Wall Street's crimes and excesses are more visible than the innards of corporations. People can read the numbers and see the reckless waste and other contradictions. The New York Times had a business-section piece the other day on global warming and took note of the fact that better social performance produces a better bottom line, with major corporate logos as evidence. These facts are not secret and there are numerous interests outside the big boardrooms that can act on them in their investing behavior. The disconnect between conventional business lore and practical reality will sooner or later force people to move, even if the big banks and brokerages wish to remain in denial.
FOTM: You allow that Americans are currently at the mercy of imperious financiers who love liquidity not community, yet you propose that a kind of counter-culture is busy being born thanks to more conscientious venture capitalists, forward-thinking union officials, bootstrappers, enviro-developers, et. al. How is this trajectory related -- or opposed -- to the ongoing incorporation of the 60's "cultural revolution" (what Tom Frank has dubbed "the conquest of cool")?
GREIDER: That's a very interesting question, but I think its approach to cultural change is too shallow. This is not simply about a softer focus or people changing their values. It is about people discovering their self-interest has been misdefined for them by the current system. I'm not sure whether that's cool or hot, but I know people act on it once they grasp that they are actually losing something of value in their lives.
FOTM: You point out that American workers have the potential to transform the nature of American capitalism through their pension funds (now worth $6 trillion dollars; "$10 trillion before the stock market meltdown"). To quote AFL-CIO's Ronald Blackwell: "The capital that belongs to working people should serve their purposes and values; right now it doesn't. If this can be accomplished, I envision a labor movement that will step forward as an able critic of business as usual. Labor, which has frequently been seen as a narrow special interest, would become an advocate for real development and the whole community -- and labor will have real money in its pocket to back up its advocacy?" Can you give us examples of union officials who are currently using pension funds to back up their advocacy for workers and communities? And would you allow that unions have been slow to exercise their power on this front?
GREIDER: The unions that have rediscovered ownership and its potential for the future mostly got there from necessity -- trying to defend viable production that the home office was prepared to jettison. Some of those early leaders like Lynn Williams of the steel workers always had a larger vision -- an economy in which worker ownership is the general pattern -- but it's damned hard to be visionary when your back is against the wall. Most of organized labor still does not see all the possibilities and many are still skeptical of changes that would complicate the bargaining position for unions. But I do think labor generally is ahead of the curve in understanding the potential power of their wealth holdings to force changes that go beyond narrow definitions of "economic gains." They are in the early stages of figuring out how to apply this power.
FOTM: Over 10 million Americans are worker-owners in some 11,000 employee-owned companies. In the Soul of Capitalism , you tell the story of an exemplary temp agency called Solidarity that's owned by the temp workers -- many of whom are ex-cons and/or recovering addicts. How did you find out about their business?
GREIDER: The origins of Solidarity are far more complicated than I described in the book. It began with BUILD, the strong and enduring Baltimore community organization developed by the Industrial Areas Foundation, a network that originated with Saul Alinsky. The first objective was to develop a union for marginalized workers of many kinds -- from crossing guards to Head Start aides -- and ways to improve incomes for the working poor. That led, among other things, to the living wage legislation that was pioneered in Baltimore and has since spread around the country. The temp agency was launched as an extension of those efforts and I learned about it from friends who were active in the development. These same inner-city pioneers are now on the brink of acquiring a small bank, which will provide the kind of financial oxygen that all struggling small businesses need to survive and flourish.
FOTM: You celebrate "humanist-populist-capitalists" who are practical visionaries and introduce readers to John Logue -- Director of the Ohio Ownership Center...
GREIDER: John Logue is not a capitalist himself -- he's a political science professor at Kent State who had the nerve and stamina to develop the Center as necessary infrastructure to assist companies and unions make the transition to employee ownership. (That is to provide experienced lawyers, accountants and bankers with the expertise to do the necessary business deals.) The "humanist-populist-capitalists" are the owners who on their own figured out why this transition could be good for wealth creation and quality as well as for the workers who become owners. They are not sentimentalists, but practical-minded types who, if pressed, will acknowledge that this also seems "the right thing to do."
FOTM:You recently heard Logue lead a workshop on what workers might want if they could create "an employee-owned industrial park." Tell us about that and why you found it inspiring?
GREIDER: The discussion among worker owners and their allies about a "Mondragon in Ohio" -- an industrial park composed of small, employee-owned companies sharing assets and overhead functions -- illustrates for me the open-ended nature of human possibilities, once people imagine beyond existing structures of control. It also explodes the usual stereotypes about what workers want. They want whole lives, they want more control over their destinies, they want practical, intelligent, self-interested collaboration with others. The present system not only discourages such creative thinking, it makes it impossible for most workers even to entertain new ideas. Given the advanced level of our development, this seems to me a criminal waste of human capabilities.
FOTM: You devote a chapter -- "Consuming the Future" -- to America's environmental crisis. While you allow that employee ownership doesn't necessarily guarantee a firm will challenge the narrow hegemonic logic of consumerism/materialism, you tell of a worker-owned firm -- Blue Ridge Paper Products -- that's been relatively responsive to environmentalists. What's the lesson implicit in their experiences on this front?
GREIDER: What's happened at the North Carolina mills and processing plant illustrates why power is the crucial variable -- ideally power located close to the operating realities of a company.This doesn't turn the workers or their union or their management into idealized visionaries. Quite the opposite, they now have the power to alter things within the flow of production -- practical changes that will yield real-life benefit where they live.This is what I mean by well-informed self-interest. As the union veep said, "we live here too." From the other side of this great divide, environmentalists are now talking up-close with the people who have control and who vet all their recommendations in the practical setting of running a mill profitably. This does not lead to utopia, I repeat.But it brings the pressure points closer together and makes the trade-offs more visible to both sides.Human experience suggests this is a better basis for reconciliation than hammer-and-tongs confrontation or orders from on high by a few remote insiders.
FOTM: You're fully aware of the new limits to growth, but even here you resist pessimism. Tell us where and how natural capitalism is winning and what kind of institutions will enable Green values to trump bottom-line imperatives?
GREIDER: You can look at the chemical industry or the furniture industry -- both notorious polluters -- and see lots of surprising gains in companies, large and small, that have embraced the commitment to sustainability. This too is self-interested, if only to avoid a black eye with consumers. But it also promises more efficiency in the long-term and prudent avoidance of obvious financial risks. The corporate lobbyists prevail today in blocking stronger regulation but it doesn't take a management genius to figure out that sooner or later they are going to lose. Then rogue companies will face very steep costs and deteriorating stock prices. Europe is way ahead on these matters, having imposed recovery and recycling regulations that require development and design capital in the short run but deliver great savings in the long run.
That's before you calculate the social costs that have been eliminated. While these variables have been factored in by ecologists (and some corporate managers) the connection between private and public interests lacks political standing. (It would help if a few brave candidates began to articulate a deeper conception of economic values). As progress on this front becomes more visible, it should encourage a more complex process of revaluation -- what are the true costs in the production process and products? Economists tend to be oblivious here because their discipline teaches them to be concerned only with the costs to the immediate producers or the costs of change. That reactionary perspective will sooner or later lose political clout as citizens learn to see the subject whole.
FOTM: You recognize the power of corporations must be restrained ASAP and you focus on the resistance offered by citizens' groups (like the Program on Corporation Law and Democracy). What's the basic question that should inform struggles here?
GREIDER: The democratic question -- who has power to decide, who is excluded from any meaningful voice? I am convinced that virtually all institutions within capitalism will perform better for society and for genuine economic gain if they undergo democratizing reforms. Some are simply too large and too concentrated in their power to be reformed in this manner. They will be replaced gradually by many, many smaller firms and those smaller firms will have to learn how to overcome the disadvantages of their size and scale through cooperative networks -- shared functions, markets, expertise. This is doable but difficult. As I suggested in the book, it is actually a good fit with the new technologies and some well-established companies are already heading in this direction.
Other reformers would say that I'm TOO patient -- that it's possible to achieve much greater changes much faster by confronting such issues as the corporate charter and changing it to require concrete social obligations alongside the profit motive in the behavior of companies. I am not opposed to that goal. I do doubt that it is politically attainable any time soon -- especially before there are more obvious outlines of an alternative social reality, existing examples of successful reform that people and politicians can observe.
FOTM: While you acknowledge the "plain fact" that "reinventing capitalism is impossible without reformation of government," your own vision is marked by your clarity about the (relative) pointlessness of national party politics at this juncture. Would it be right to assume that you've pretty much bought out of disputes on the left between, say, liberal Democrats and Greens?
GREIDER: I deliberately avoided the ideological disputes in my book, partly because these tend to turn the discussion to large abstractions rather than toward concrete examples from reality. My strong feeling is that we are about to enter a new era of reform (something like the early 20th century) but it's a bit premature to try to define its outlines and contending forces.
Someone once said: let a thousand flowers bloom. We will learn soon enough which ones flourish and which ones wilt of their own contradictions. I am for radical change. I am for incremental change. I have an idealized notion of how things might turn out. I also have patience and tolerance for imperfect experiments that may be half-steps toward something larger. If you believe, as I do, that we really are at a new moment in history, you have to acknowledge that we simply do not know enough yet to describe what the future will look like with ideological certainty. This means we're on a longer, open road, but it holds true to what we say we believe about democracy.
FOTM: While you suggest that national party politics is a non-starter given that corporations rule Washington, you note that local and state politics are more promising venues for political reformers. I wonder if you paid much attention to what recently happened in Alabama where the conservative, born-again Republican governor tried to take on entrenched class power? Do you consider that battle to be an anomaly or is it a sign of what could happen (for better or worse) in the future?
GREIDER: I tried to write this book in a way that would speak to ordinary Americans. That approach assumes that underneath class and partisan labels, even regional and religious differences, there is a commonality. I believe some aspect of my subject should be available to most everyone, whatever their circumstances. That is wishful, I know, but that was my goal. It required me not to demonize some citizens as backward and others as enlightened. I have found some confirmation for this approach in people's reactions to the book.
Thinking in those terms, the dilemma of born-again Christian Republicans, especially in the conservative south, is particularly acute. I hope my book pokes at their sensibilities too. The recent battle over tax reform in Alabama demonstrates how difficult it is to overcome class-determined cultural reflexes and self-injuries. People of modest means rushed to vote against their own interests, as well as those of their state and society in general. A pessimist would say these dividing lines are immutable. My life's experience -- witnessing how the civil rights movement changed this country, changed all of our lives -- tells me that cannot be so.
FOTM: Many of your exemplary capitalists are Republicans -- David Stockman, Robert Monks. Do their counter-cultural business practices hint at the possibility of a significant realignment of our party politics down the line?
GREIDER: Yes, but don't ask me how. We have already seen currents shift over the last two decades as some who grew up affluent and Republican (myself included) found the liberal Democratic party more comfortable, while lots of working class Democrats moved in the opposite direction, feeling abandoned or disrespected by the party of their upbringing. I can't read the future currents with any confidence because, frankly, neither party is yet prepared to embrace what I describe. Who owns the idea of worker ownership, for instance? There are a scattered few in both parties who advocate it now, but is this a conservative idea or a liberal idea? It's not easy to answer that question.
FOTM: It's been suggested (most recently by the journalist Christopher Caldwell) that liberty is the foundational principle of those on the right while equality is the key for people on the left. Would you elaborate on the idea that the examples of soulful capitalism you cite implicitly refuse this antimony?
GREIDER: I reject the long-argued view that those are polar opposites. I embrace both and so do most Americans. If we tinker with the words a bit, it seems clear that liberty and equality go hand in hand, especially in our modern circumstances. First, if liberty in fact means the freedom of self-realization, then most Americans cannot possibly become genuinely free without engaging in collective action. Second, in a society of great abundance where scarcity is no longer the main challenge, then equality must be based on something beyond material accumulation. It should be founded on the ability -- the right -- to live one's life as fully as one's spirit and energy allow. This is an old socialist conception, of course, but I do not envision everyone winding up with the same bank account. Or the same set of aspirations and talents (or the same level of money-seeking intensity). What I can imagine is a society in which every child feels a sense of entitlement (as Robert Coles called it). To go anywhere in this country and feel comfortable, if not at home. To pursue life's possibilities from a platform of material comforts and with the skills to participate fully in work that is self-fulfilling (also productive). To reach beyond one's inherited circumstances -- or to remain comfortably within them. We need -- someday -- a new bill of rights. I am not sure I will be around for that happy moment, but it could be an empowering national goal -- literally liberating for most citizens.
FOTM:The Soul of Capitalism's sense of possibility may seem out of time at a moment when many commentators see America on the verge of a kinder, gentler fascism. Do the doomy analyses of the academic left confirm their distance from the experience of everyday people -- and experience in general? (I'm reminded on this score of a well-known man of the left who ended what was meant to be a stirring address at a "Socialist Scholars Conference" with the following call: "Back to the libraries!")
GREIDER: There is of course a lot of brilliant analysis and I read it. I do think, however, that much of the left-liberal progressive side (but not all) is looking backward, not forward.Their most creative decades are way in the past and it's naturally hard for them to let go. One implicit purpose of my new book -- never stated plainly -- is to help younger thinkers break free of that past and see the present more clearly, more creatively. There is plenty of misery in our present circumstances, but it is not like the 1930s or 1890s and it is not going to be like those times. This sounds arrogant, which is why I did not state it plainly in the book.
FOTM: Your invocation of the need for "radical patience" reminds me of the lessons implicit in Lawrence Goodwyn's great books on the American populist movement and Poland's Solidarnosc. I know you appreciate those works. Tell us why they matter to you...
GREIDER: Goodwyn's books gave me the language of democracy -- and the nerve -- to write the kind of books I have written. He has also been my great teacher in person -- rigorous and yet unbelievably generous. Whenever we talk, I feel refreshed and ready to plunge on. The core of what I learned from him is that the deeper politics of this country lies in the experiences and stored knowledge of ordinary people. It flows along mostly unnoted, like an underground river, and once in a great while it surfaces with force and changes the society.
When he explained this to me years ago, I realized this is what I had been hearing as a reporter for many years in my encounters with ordinary folks who lack power and influence, who have no credentials or even much book learning, but who know certain things -- important verities that ought to be part of our democratic politics, actually some day ought to steer it.
This view offends many learned citizens, of course, regardless of their political persuasions. But I can listen to Goodwyn or listen to those ordinary citizens and realize that they are speaking for the core of our history. They should be able to speak for our common future. So I am on their side. I write my books in the hope that explaining power in plain English may help them find their voice.
FOTM: In your acknowledgements, you mention that you're indebted to your editor Alice Mayhew who told you (gently) to start over after reading an early draft of the book? How did she help you?
GREIDER: In a subtle sense, she gave me the authority to write the book I have written (for better or worse). She read early chapters and saw that the pace I had set was going to make a very long book in which I told too many stories and slipped in the big points along the way. In effect, she said: don't hide behind a lot of stories -- wonderful as they may be. Come out front and say what it is you wish to say. As a reporter, I had learned to do the former. So I tried to do the latter. There is more me, upfront, in this book than in my previous ones. It is also (I hope) easier to read, easier to see my message whole.
FOTM: You argue that citizens need to think like capitalists - "to develop their own forward-looking narratives for the society and figure out how to make them come true" -- but isn't there a danger in a relentless focus on the future. Doesn't that give a historical pass to George W. Bush's class? I'm reminded of the President's suggestion that the recent corporate scandals might have had the silver lining of making Americans a more ethical people: "I believe people have taken a step back and asked, 'What's important in life? You know, the bottom line and this corporate America stuff, is that important? Or is serving your neighbor, loving your neighbor like you'd like to be loved yourself?'" As one commentator noted: "No decent human being could disagree. But no half-intelligent human being could fail to note that such things are a lot easier to say when you've already banked your own 30 or 50 mil." Does it make sense to foster a hand-as-dealt acceptance (at least for now) of current class-based disparities in wealth?
GREIDER: I suppose my emphasis on "thinking forward" could be misunderstood. But I am trying to coax people -- especially young people -- out of their sense of resignation and timidity.I've had beer-drinking sessions with young people in which I announce one rule -- let's not talk about current politics and issues. Let's talk about what you want this country to become, say, 25 years from now.Once they get over a natural hesitation (nobody wants to sound like a fool), the conversation becomes rich, illuminating and contentious. Once you have articulated a vision of the future, then you can work your way back to the present and talk about how the country might get there. At a minimum, it's a lot more fun than droning on about how hopeless things are.
FOTM:In your chapter on "Public Works" you look back to grand moments of government-sponsored economic development (like Lincoln's Homestead Act-- "some 80 million acres of government land became the private property of families.") Does the administration's current readiness to fund the reconstruction of Iraq offer an opening to politicians inclined to make the case for public works in America?
GREIDER: Yes indeed. We are getting some good questions raised by candidates in this presidential cycle about the purposes of government and the follies of empire. I expect those questions to intensify in the next few years as Americans at large begin to grasp that we are not the triumphant economy they have been told. When our foreign creditors start to exercise power over our destiny as a nation, this is going to be very upsetting for folks. It could turn reactionary, of course. Or it could open a rich discussion, not only of our role in the world, but about re-developing our nation's interior landscape. I think most Americans would choose make the latter a priority.
]]>There is enough radioactive material in the so-called "spent fuel pool" (believe me, it ain't "spent," and there's enough nasty stuff in there to keep millions of people downstream and downwind of it moving away from the area for a century or two if it should suddenly be distributed in a big way out of the "pool" and into the air, water and soil) enough to damage the genes and chromosomes of all species for many millenia. Spent Fuel Pools = Spent Gene Pools! All 7 or 8 millions species, large and very small, experience varying degrees of gene damage when a nuke plant chrenobylizes. The worst damage depends on which way the radiation "plume" goes, of course. Who and what will the "fallout" fall on? Only God knows. But all of Gaia will feel an increase in suffering over a long time. This is not a one day 9/11 deal with deep and painful memories. The actual damaging goes on and on and on and on, perhaps magnifying over generations.
The state's governor, Pataki, must be pretty wacky by now because he comes from a town near the Indian Point plant, and he knows in his heart of hearts, if not in his brain, that he is partially insane. It's crazy to keep the plant open, and he knows it. But he is well rewarded to stay "partially insane" for the duration. Can't be easy. I suspect most days the winds are from the West, heading south and east from Albany, most days any accident or terrorism at Indian Point will produce a plume that floats away from Pataki and legislators in Albany. Probably it will be people in New York City and southern Connecticut or a part of New Jersey who will have to leave their homes forever, never to return. Whichever way the wind blows, any Patakis still in Peekskill will have to leave for sure. They will sit in the certified-adequate-evacuation-plan traffic jam and get fried sure as hell. Most days Pataki doesn't worry about it much. Too busy. But on those days when it's misty, humid, light breeze coming up river it's possible that Pataki imagines what Albany will look like after it has been empty for a century: reforested, green, suprisingly beautiful like Ankor Vat in Cambodia, a ruin in the jungle, a boonduks or no man's land, but a few men go there in defiance of the law just to feel the sadness, the loneliness, the gradual reclaiming by a damaged but recovering Nature of what had been the state capital so long ago. What will New York City be a hundred years from now if the winds take the radiation plume down stream? If the weather conditions are "exactly wrong" on the fateful day, NYC and vicinity could be uninhabitable for hundreds of years.
Take a little time to try imagining Pataki's state of mind, or Cuomo's before him, because some part of the buck or denial or partial insanity stops there in the Governor's office. Will we the people allow the governor to play the hero on the day after Indian Point "goes"? The joke of an evacuation plan will have failed miserably. If the breeze is down the Hudson, 3 million people rather than 3 thousand will be wondering how much radiation they are absorbing as they flee and they will be discovering that this "9/11" is not just for a day, but forever. Not a few buildings but all buildings in the path of the plume. Not some people, but all people. Will we be angry at ourselves for not doing more to close Indian Point? Will we quickly forgive the governors for going along with business as usual during the years when we could have closed the plant and heavily fortified the "spent fuel pool"?
I try to imagine the governor's mind working, because quite frankly, I can't imagine what is going on in the mind of you the reader. If you have gotten this far you are about to sigh, and turn the page. I know what the sigh of dispair sounds like, because I heard it yesterday over the phone when I talked to a policeman in the Central Park precinct. I was asking about the parameters for demonstrations, finding out that more than 20 people assembled count as an "event" and need a permit, figuring out that a small acoustic brass band passing out leaflets might be just under the permitted decibel level, telling him that we will "stroll" and never get to be more than 20, etc. when I mentioned in passing that we would be urging people to shut down Indian Point, that nuclear power plant upstream from New York City. He sighed. And his sigh was so sudden and heartfelt that it stopped my mind. I think the sigh was about "another 9/11 only much, much worse." What can a good cop on duty do about non-symbolic terrorism? How are we supposed to protect citizens from an atomic bomb heavier with radiation than 100 Hiroshimas (anniversary coming up Aug. 6th)? And we went on to talk more about who I could call for info, which parks were easier to make music in; he was very helpful and I think he too would probably like to see Indian Point closed and better fortified.
Food for thought. Unradiated food for thought. Anyone who is able to think about Indian Point for more than a minute wants it closed and fortified. Give yourself a sigh of dispair, but stay engaged, like the officer at Central Park Precinct.
S14, the energy bill now before the Senate has a provision to build new nuclear power plants with taxpayer dollars! No US capitalists will invest in one. No one will sell insurance for one. And we the people have already been stuck with owning the "waste" that has been created the past fifty years, forever. And no one knows what to do with it. It's crazy. It's extremely costly, and getting more costly by the minute. Sane people don't believe this plan can go forward. But perpetual war, preemptive strikes, empire and nation building are also crazy and very costly and burdening future generations with pollution and debt - what's wrong with a little more pollution and public debt for a centrally controlled alternative to oil and coal?
Indian Point is on the Hudson 30 miles from New York City.
Winds are blowing down the Hudson much of the time.
Over 20 million people live within 50 miles of this plant.
The recently recertified "evacuation plan" certifies the insanity of the certifiers.
Nothing physical and obvious has been done to increase the shields around spent fuel pools at over 100 nuclear power plants in the USA. People might get scared and want to stop using nuclear power altogether when they see what it takes to protect a "spent fuel pool" from a mortar attack, never mind a big plane.
Bush, announced to the world in one state of the union speech that there are 1000s of Al Qaeda on the loose and that they have the plans to our nuclear power plants! An early version of "Bring em on!"? Unfortunately it only takes one American loonie with a mortar on the other side of the river to spend the spent fuel, so to speak.
Or an accident. Indian Point is old, troubled, has had a poor safety and security record for a long time.
See Playboy feature story, http://www.pogo.org/m/ep/ep-playboy-2003.pdf
Get the pamphlet from Riverkeeper, "The Truth about our Nuclear Neighbor" that explains the trillions of dollars in devastation that a meltdown will cost, why the evacuation plan will not work, why we do not need Indian Point's electricity, why Indian Point is much safer closed than operating. Read it and sigh, and weep, and then, if you value your own sanity and serenity, get active.
What you can do with 20 minutes a week to Close Indian Point:
1. call Pataki AGAIN (518) 474-8390 or 212-681-4580 (takes about 40 seconds)
2. call your Congressperson's helper AGAIN (get better acquainted)
3. try something different like calling a radio station or a newspaper, or. . . . . .
4. call another friend and ask them to give 20 minutes a week to it
5. after you finish buying groceries spend 10 minutes of your "CIP20" with an Indian Pt. petition and/or some postcards hoping to find one (1) complete stranger who will pledge 20 minutes a week to closing Indian Point (stay in touch with them)
6. call up an artist, poet, musician or comedian you admire and ask them if they have done anything that addresses the actual Weapon of Mass Destruction in our lives
7. call Riverkeeper (845-424-4149) or Clearwater or any organization you know that is working on closing Indian Point and thank them for their work
8. call the person who coaxed a pledge of 20 minutes from you just to say you're keeping your word and hoping that they are still on it.
At the Falcon Ridge Folk Fest last weekend I spent a few hours with the Berkshire Stompers 12/8 path band (128path.org) passing out "The Truth about our Nuclear Neighbor" and a postcard that asks "what exactly do WEAPONS of MASS DESTRUCTION look like?" (photo of Indian Point) A lot of people wouldn't look me in the eye or respond at all when I offered to talk with them about shutting down Indian Point; so much for the folksiness of about a third of the folk festers passing by. I discovered during the course of the afternoon that a lot of curious young people don't know that there is an old nuke plant nearby, don't know that Indian Point is on the Hudson, don't know how dangerous it is, haven't a clue as to what they might do to close it. Another substantial number of people gave me a "been there done that" shrug, some saying they lived fairly close to the plant, as if that explained how they were able to stop worrying about it, and wished us luck! About one person in 25 or 30 was already an activist of some kind, would think about signing on for 20 minutes a week of CIP work, and I have seven people who gave me their contact information and want to help Close Indian Point. I'm going to snail mail them a copy of this piece. And next weekend I hope to find another 3 or 4 "CIP 20" pledgers.
This may not be America's Solidarnosc, but maybe it will do until the real thing comes along. IF this regime can commit us to building new nuclear power plants for a transition from centrally controlled fossil fuels to centrally controlled nuclear energy then nuclear fleets, depleted uranium munitions, nuclear arms proliferation, nukes in space to power lasers that zap the next axis of evil, a nuke based empire capable of plundering the planet will seem plausible to many and a way for the rich to stay in power and get richer as all of us begin to glow in the dark. (The rich may find ways to glow slower, or glow less, but radiation once released is hard to contain or defend against.) IF we can stop nuclear power one Indian Point at a time, then all the other issues that have been raised by environmentalists, working people, the oppressed and disenfranchised of the planet, have a chance to be raised and resolved in favor of a sustainable future and social justice. IF we can't close old nukes and stop new ones, the people and their issues will both become radioactive toast.
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Bohemians have been the gypsies of late capitalism. For a century they set down their tents at the heart of cities only to be upbraided as exemplars of sloth, celebrated as nouveau romantic heroes and then, finally, uprooted. The everyday life of classic bohemians was a monumental struggle to beat the 'system' by winning and reconfiguring urban space in ways that were simply unavailable to those caught in the job machine. Bohemians attempted to enter the realm of freedom -- life minus (much) wage labor -- without the material means.
Bohemias have been located in less coveted urban neighborhoods for one simple reason: cheap rent. Cheap rent meant that the artist or would-be artist could survive on part-time and occasional wage-work and whatever their art or music or writing might bring in; less than splendor, but with luck, more than subsistence. Some lived in communes (in effect, if not in name). Railroad flats might be shared by a floating cast of tenants, the rent shared haphazardly but somehow.
Greenwich Village has been the echt Bohemia of the 20th century (though it now lives on only in the collective imagination of its former residents, scholars and tourists). At the turn of the 20th century it bordered on the old Canal Street Irish ghetto whose residents worked on the bustling West Side docks and as lorry drivers. The Village's inhabitants then were chiefly the Italian immigrants who came to sweat in Lower East Side garment shops, other factories, and in construction. These working-class precincts were the model for bohemian enclaves -- shabby housing, mean streets and, of course, cheap rent. In this era, Bohemia was informed by a commitment to sexual liberation and radical politics. From the turn of the century to the 1920's, the Village was a haven for rebel artists, politicos and patrons like Mabel Dodge -- that notorious class traitor to the Establishment. Militant labor leaders like Big Bill Haywood were regulars at Dodge's 5th Avenue Salon along with figures like Masses editor Max Eastman and the political artist, John Sloan. It was a moment when novelist Floyd Dell (along with many others) advocated 'free love.' While feminist Margaret Sanger (another Dodge regular) provided the technology -- and modeled the awareness -- to make it feasible.
In the 1920's the Village was discovered by mainline culture vultures. It became a chic neighborhood. New money converted the old working-class boarding houses into town houses and built large apartment buildings above 8th street where, even in the Great Depression, rents were too high for most bohemians. A few artists and writers managed to stay put, though, and through the 1950's the Village served as something of an ideal for similar neighborhoods in other large cities.
Dan Wolf helped promote that ideal by founding the Village Voice in 1955. The Voice would become closely associated with Bohemia, but it began as a vehicle for political reformers. The Voice was originally the mouthpiece of (relatively affluent) promoters of civic virtue who fervently sought to upgrade their neighborhood and replace the old Tammany machine headed by Carmine DiSapio. The Voice spoke through and for figures like Ed Gold, a journalist at Fairchild Publications, shoe fortune heir Stanley Geller, the high-strung (and ambitious!) attorney Ed Koch, Sarah Schoenkop (like Koch, a migrant from Essex County, New Jersey). People who came together to support Adlai Stevenson and found in his losing campaigns hope for a new reform politics in New York City. (An inspiration that led to them to lay the groundwork for the eventual victory over the machine.)
But political commentary by these relatively staid types didn't make for a lively newspaper. And Dan Wolf realized he needed to recruit real writers and reporters. Soon Norman Mailer, Michael Harrington, the jazz critic Nat Hentoff, the poet Joel Oppenheimer, and political cartoonist Jules Feiffer -- from the dwindling ranks of the Village Bohemia -- joined the paper, giving it a more radical (and imaginative) cast. Reporters Stephanie Harrington, Jack Newfield, Susan Brownmiller and Mary Nichols came along to help the reform movement by exposing the shady dealings of city and state government. And, of course, the Voice became the newspaper of record for counter-cultural art movements -- the exploding Off Off Broadway theater, avant garde film, downtown galleries (which were challenging the hegemony of 57th Street), and the Jazz scene (which gradually settled in the Village after being run off 52nd Street).
When a new Bohemia began to emerge in the Lower East Side, the Voice seemed to break its back trying to respond. In the early 70's -- and in ensuing years -- more than half of the paper tended to be counter-cultural, much to the chagrin of those on the staff who wanted the paper to follow a narrow economistic line and pursue the kind of anti-corruption reform agenda that still dominated the front-of-the-book.
The Voice, of course, was never the voice of Downtown bohemians. During the mid-60's, the East Village Other managed to make the Voice seem square. The Other wasn't just hip; it excoriated gentrifiers and tried to reconcile Bohemia with blacks and the barrio. There were other radical papers located in the Lower East Side. On 4th Street, there was The Guardian -- a national newspaper of distinctly Old Left origins that briefly became the chief paper of the New Left (though not of the counterculture). The Rat was a local sheet that tried to combine a counter-cultural esprit with revolutionary politics. Both papers failed to survive scorching splits over social issues, chiefly feminism. Women seized power at The Rat but couldn't get it to fly after the conspirators split over ideological issues. The Guardian survived its own internal battles, but eventually folded after it lost Old Left financial support.
II
Bohemian desire and working class consciousness have (occasionally) melded in the Village. For much of this century, younger bohemians made hang-outs of the same old Irish bars that served blue collar workers. Despite the steady decline of the Manhattan docks, longshoremen and truckers remained a presence in the Village until automation ended up closing nearly all Manhattan piers for cargo.
For decades, the arts community in the Village (very much in the spirit of Jane Jacobs and her Death and Life of Great American Cities) joined with local working-class tenants in mounting fierce opposition to co-op conversions and other development schemes designed to make this area of little streets the Shangri-la of the real estate speculator. Working with residents of the Lower East Side and the few Italians remaining in the South Village, they beat back first, David Rockefeller's plan for a lower Manhattan Expressway, and then, a proposed Beltway. These combined forces managed to save some of the besieged areas. But the gentry still encroached, and the bohemians were forced to pull back. To appease the protestors, the city erected Westbeth as artist housing in a sparsely-populated, hence more easily, cleared, industrial section of the Village. But Westbeth was no Bohemia. Soon enough, gourmet food shops and dry-cleaning emporia clustered in the neighborhood.
Rents rose; and the area was now beyond the financial reach of bohemians. The nearest available thing for them was the area south of Houston, down to Chambers street (by the 1970's, experiencing its own deindustrialization) and more significantly, the area east of Third Avenue.
Well before this influx, the Lower East Side had had a bohemian flavor. I myself, in 1969, took an apartment on St. Mark's Place (#26), a fourth floor walkup. The building, a few steps west of 2nd Avenue, had recently been cut up into studios and one-bedroom apartments. Across the street was the Dom, formerly The Polish National Home (whence the name), now devoted to loud rock music. Finding it hard to sleep (especially on weekends), I often walked the streets, until the streets absorbed me. I took my meals at Veselka's, at the 2nd Avenue Deli, or at the many Polish and Ukranian Establishments so abundant in the area. Around midnight, I'd descend on Gem Spa to nurse an egg cream as I read the next morning's newspaper. I could usually anticipate what was happening thanks to my night-strolls on the block.
Of an evening, Herbert Marcuse, the age's brightest radical intellectual star, stepped out on stage at a filled-to-the-rafters Fillmore East. With his first words, a group of enragŽs -- Up-Against-the-Wall, Motherfuckers -- brought the program to a screeching halt. The group, led there by Tom Neumann, wasn't happy; not with the academic character of the event, not with Marcuse's prosperity, not with the fact that Marcuse had married Neumann's mother and had even -- according to rumor -- had an affair with her while she was still married to Neumann's father, Franz (who had been Marcuse's best friend).
Up-Aginst-the-Wall, Motherfuckers regularly placed themselves in implacable opposition to the prevailing culture, expressing disgust for (what they regarded as) hypocritical liberals in the most direct fashion. The group rejected the application for membership by Abbie Hoffman (of 9 St. Marks Place) because he did not meet their high radical standards. After all, Abbie consorted with liberal lawyers and politicians (and was accused of pandering to the media). Abbie was furious at his rejection and wrote a passionate defense of his radical credentials in the Voice. The Motherfuckers never had more than a few members but they made a lot of noise and managed to influence hundreds of radicals who wished they had the nerve to go public with their politics and passions.
The Motherfuckers knew how to make a scene, all right. And scenes, being commercial draws bring in real estate developers. (As C. Carr has noted, the Lower East Side has gone the way of Greenwich Village of the 20's and 40's.) The area was gradually gentrified, and the Lower East Sider of today is more likely to be a financial analyst than a colleague of Tom Neumann. There, Bohemia has been priced out. The scene, what there is of it, has shifted to the peripheries: to Williamsburg, and elsewhere in Brooklyn; to Queens; to the South Bronx, where some young Latino artists have turned old buildings into new performance spaces; to Jersey City; and, in a move presaged years ago by Amiri Baraka, to Newark.
Bohemia today is hardly on the map. The question is, though, whether Bohemia was ever primarily about space at all. An identifiable placeable bohemian enclave offers certain benefits to its residents. Gregarious by nature, bohemians are simply more likely to bump into each other in their areas. Shared coffee shops, bars, laundromats, and parks are the places where ideas can be discussed, information exchanged, assignations proposed. Bookstores, newsstands, and record stores there will contain items of greater interest to the bohemian sensibility. And in a few cases, e.g. performance spaces for music and live theater, the bohemian enclave is a precondition for the bohemian's artistic endeavors.
But space, important as it is, is less important than time. The space of Bohemia exists so that bohemians may there do what it is they do: lay claim to their time. This space may be occupied; you may move elsewhere, even if to a far less satisfactory where. But if this time of yours is taken from you; it is gone forever. Time colonized is not replaceable. The worse news for bohemians is not that they are scattered (unpleasant but bearable), but that economic circumstances have forced them onto the job market.
Is a bohemian in the job market still a bohemian? Only to this extent: the bohemian must still fight for control of her own time. Many have entered the job market as part-timers (e.g. adjunct instructors at universities) or as flexible timers. (Many of the self-employed, for example, in PC-related businesses, have gone this route.) But eventually, the colonization of time must be confronted. Bohemians, even while steering clear of the most obviously deadening jobs, have come under the yoke. Such supposedly congenial jobs as teaching (whether in the lower grades or in the university) or work drawing on writing or design skills is, ultimately, just labor, and tedious. Bohemians in these circumstances have been forced to do something very traditional: organize. For example, the film-maker Tami Gold, a full-time teacher, is an activist in her union chapter at Hunter college. Literary scholar Barbara Bowen, a former union organizer and now Queens College English professor, is running for president of the faculty and staff union at C.U.N.Y. And organizing today must address more than minimally defined conditions of labor; it must address the pointlessness of the labor that is on offer.
The older bohemian alternative to dead time has been free time. That alternative now less available, the better answer today, and it hardly matters where it happens, is the demand for -- in true bohemian style -- the time of their lives.
***
Stanley Aronowitz's The Knowledge Factory: Dismantling the Corporate University and Creating True Higher Learning will be published in February 2000 by Beacon Press.
MR. MAKIYA: Let me begin with a very strong impression that I get coming back to the United States. The fact is the Iraq that I've just come from isn't the one that is being portrayed in the media and talked about so much these days. I simply don't connect with the discourse that is going on here about Iraq.
Not that I'm about to paint a very rosy picture of how wonderful things are compared to how badly they're being portrayed by the media; no, I'm not trying to deny that there are very serious problems in Iraq. But they're not the problems that people are talking about here. There are all kinds of very important issues and grave questions that we need to deal with, but I don't see them being discussed in the press here, and that is really troubling.
Now I'm going to speak for myself in terms of discussing those problems as I see them Some of those problems -- I will admit -- stem from what I personally and what many of my compatriots did not quite realize before the war about the very peculiar and terrible state of the Arab Socialist Party in Iraq.
Speaking for myself, I admit I did not realize the full extent of the rot that had corroded the entire state system in Iraq before the war. There's a part of me back then that kept on insisting that the state that the coalition forces so rightly took out in April of this year was still the one I had described in Republic of Fear. But the fact is it was not.
That state had changed. A totalitarian state described in Republic of Fear had metamorphosed into a full-fledged criminal state, and by that I mean that institutions designed and perfected for violence, but nonetheless still institutions, and ministries and structures that were set up to run this terrorist state had changed or had rotted from within to the point that when the war finally came and toppled this edifice, it turned out there was nothing much of substance there.
Let me make this point by way of a couple of figures that were being discussed in the governing council of Iraq about three weeks ago, four weeks ago, which I think highlight the point I'm trying to make.
It transpired we now know from the budget -- the Iraqi budget between February 2002 and February 2003 -- that Saddam Hussein spent about $1.9 billion on the Republican Guard. We also know that for the entire educational sector of Iraq, leaving out salaries, he spent $3.5 million during that same period.
And I'm just going to add one more figure, $6.5 million on the health sector for 25 million people. Think for a moment what those figures imply.-- they explain the rotting away of the state, the criminal enterprise that the Baath had become.
And when the war actually transpired, these criminals robbed the banks, quite literally emptied the vaults of dollars and dinars -- and melted away into the populace. They didn't fight the war, they did what criminals do, they undertake the kind of operations that we now see them financing -- a hand grenade here, a rocket attack there, and doing all of this in precisely the criminal mode to which they were accustomed and to which their politics have evolved from the totalitarian style politics that I described in Republic of Fear.
Now is this metamorphosis from, as I said, a totalitarian state to a criminal state, an argument for not having gone to war? Not in my judgment. But the question of whether or not the war was justified is at this point in time a historical one; it's something for scholars to discuss, but it is not the question we now face.
There is no alternative but to making this story a success story, no alternative it seems to me to the United States, no alternative for peoples of the Middle East themselves.
I.
I could speak a bit on the constitutional process and lay out some of the actual discussions that are going on there because that, too, is part of the future. Let me describe what the deliberations of the constitutional committee have been.
From very early on, a committee of 25 people was selected by members of the governing council. It is a body selected entirely by Iraqis. That body's mandate was limited to the mechanics of the convening of the constitutional convention. (It is not yet a body mandated to discuss the contents of the constitution or to draft any kind of text.)
There's a consensus that the convention will consist of some 250-odd people. That figure, incidentally, comes from a formula that is widely accepted in the governing council and amongst all members of the constitutional committee; namely, that every 100,000 Iraqis should somehow have a representative at the convention; that if you assume Iraq's population is about 25 million people, that's a body of about 250 persons. There's also a consensus that those 250 people should be broadly, geographically representative of the country as a whole.
So in a city of Mosul with, say, a million people, there should be about ten delegates. The city of Baghdad has about 5 million people so there would be about fifty delegates, and so on. There is no disagreement of any significance that I am aware about the size of the body that that we're talking about here or the principle of geographical representation. But there is a serious discussion over how you go about convening that body.
We met over two months to discuss this question and three basic positions have evolved. Let me describe them to you.
The first position, which I emphasize is a minority position, is that the body should be selected much as the constitutional committee itself was selected. Perhaps by the governing council consulting with professional organizations, and -- up and down the country -- with minority communities, with national groups, and so on. A massive process of consultation that eventually leads to a sifting out of names that produces 250 people that meet the criteria I previously described. That's one point of view -- a very small minority point of view.
Another point of view -- much more strongly represented in the constitutional committee and championed at the moment by, let us say, the Kurdish members of the constitutional committee -- is that we should arrive at the constitutional convention through a mixture of selection and election.
The third point of view, which has the strong support of the majority of Shiites in the constitutional convention, emanates from a fatwa that came from the Ayatollah Sistani. I'm now going to spell out his argument at some length because we spent most of our time in the constitutional committee discussing its pros and cons.
He argues that because we have not had a permanent constitution in Iraq since 1958 or even a basic set of laws (because the very nature of the Baath system is such as to have made that foreign to Iraqis) that the idea of a constitution needs to be resuscitated, revived. It's something that Iraqis have to adopt as a very important principle.
For these reasons, more time needs to be given to the constitutional process and greater participation is needed in the selection of the delegates to the constitutional convention. And so, he says, it is not enough to get the head of a particular professional association -- say, the lawyers association of the City of Mosul -- to appoint a number of people. It's necessary for all members of the lawyers association to be able to at least vote for the delegates that the City of Mosul will end up sending to the constitutional convention.
That case for direct elections across the board, across the country faces a number of obstacles, principally the fact that the Iraqi body politic is, in many people's opinion, not ready for elections. After all, this is a country that has for 30 years lived under a closed autarchic system; it is discovering politics even as we speak. It is like an infant, you could say, learning to walk -- finding its political identity, its parties, its structures, its ways of articulating what it wants out of life. It's too early, this counter argument goes, for elections to mean very much in the very turbulent and constantly changing world of Iraqi politics today.
So that is, I think, the strongest argument for not holding these elections. There's a technical argument that the security situation perhaps may not allow for the kind of elections that, let us be clear, the Ayatollah himself wants.
I should note that there is nothing in the Ayatollah Sistani's fatwa that indicates any kind of an Islamic rationale for his particular position. There is simply nothing -- and we questioned him on this when the constitutional committee met with the Ayatollah in Najaf at his home. This is an argument based on democratic principles.
And also, I should point out that he was for international supervision of these elections, He did not trust even Iraqis themselves to run them. He's not looking for some sort of populist campaign, he is looking for careful, internationally supervised, directed and observed elections.
Now I want to observe here an argument that one does not hear in public, but one does hear very much in private amongst prominent Shiites who are propounding this idea of direct elections as a way of establishing a constituent assembly (because that is in effect what we would be talking about if we went for elections up and down the country) and that argument goes like this:
Elections are what we -- clerics for instance -- need in order to be able to support some kind of secular constitution. In order to essentially cover ourselves, we need the most Iraqi-based -- the most transparent -- kind of process by which this constitutional assembly could come into being. And for that, elections are the best answer and that way we would be able to rebuff all critic and also, more importantly, we would be able to engage larger and larger numbers of people.
The argument that [Sistani] made quite directly and exactly in these terms is why should a young man of 19 or 20 go along with what his father wants in terms of a candidate for the constituent assembly? That is surely a thing of the past, as he put it. We live in a world where that young man has the right to somehow feel that his vote has influenced the process. It's very hard to rebut that kind of argument.
Coming from him and in the absence of any purely religious argument -- it represents, quite a powerful case that many, many people are finding hard to resist. Even the Kurds, when they attended the private meeting with him, found themselves at a loss for words almost as the argument developed between the members of the committee and [Sistani] sitting, you know, on the floor around his house. They came out nonplussed and there was a period when positions changed and then changed back again.
I'm boring you with perhaps too many details here, but those are the main lines that are emerging in the debate over the constitution. The report that finally went to the governing council contained those three options. We were not able as a committee to decide -- and we chose not to vote in favor of one particular option. I actually wanted it to be left as three options so the governing council would have to choose, and that is where the subject lies.
I should add that in the course of the deliberations of the constitutional committee, three or four very important things need to be noted:
First, experts from the Ministry of Planning did come in and talk about the feasibility of having quick elections; how do you actually go about getting a population count? In the beginning, we had to deal with an argument that said they could not have elections before there was a full census of the country. The last census that is accepted by virtually all Iraqis is a 1957 census.
So the imperative of having a census was hotly argued for awhile in the early stages of the discussion, and later on the Kurds were very insistent on this point, and the Shiites to some extent, both agreed to something that we called a population count -- something less than a census but, say, more than just an electoral register. I was arguing that any operation that involves going house to house to establish a registry is a time-consuming process and will delay the constitution. So we labored hard over the issue of the mechanics of holding an election and we did consult experts.
Also when the constitutional committee broke up into small groups that went and visited the different provinces of Iraq, the experiences that we had were/are extremely telling.
First, there was widespread interest in the constitutional process. In Basra alone, 2,500 people came to the meeting. Unheard of. Nobody in recent memory can remember any such a meeting taking place in Basra before. The meetings were never less than 300 or 400 people strong. There would be two or three members of the constitutional committee going out to the provinces, talking to people and telling, as I have done here, about the deliberations inside the constitutional committee. Then listening to what people had to say
Only one little incident marred this, and it is of some relevance to mention this -- and that happened in Hellah when supporters of Moqtadr al-Sadr blocked the delegation, saying there's no point for you to even come here, we know what we want. We don't want to hear what you have -- the fatwa of Sistani decides everything. These people pretended to be acting under a mandate from Sistani, but Sistani's office said they were under no such mandate and they would deal with it. That is not how he operates. But these were thugs trying to stop a meeting from taking place.
They didn't succeed, but they then behaved atrociously and stopped anybody else from speaking. About 50 people walked out and afterwards caught up with the members of the constitutional committee and they told them that many of these club wielders, which is what they were, had come from the outer environs -- they'd been recruited for this particular job, they were not really bona fide citizens of the City of Hellah. Then complaints were lodged with various parties.
But apart from that one incident, the visits to the different provinces went well and the overwhelming feeling was that this is an issue in which the population of Iraq is deeply interested. So we're not going to have a rubber stamp type of situation; it's going to be a very exciting process to watch in the months to come.
I think I will end there and just open it up for discussion.
UNIDENTIFIED SPEAKER: It certainly appears to be the consensus here in Washington is that they'd rather have a selected constitutional assembly than an elected one if for no other reason they believe it would be quicker.
MR. MAKIYA: Yes.
UNIDENTIFIED SPEAKER: From what you've just said, it would appear to me that you sort of agree with that view. One, do you? And two, do you think it's possible to get Sistani to walk back his position? I mean, a fatwa may have a little bit of maneuvering room in it, but all six lines of it seem to be pretty clear.
MR. MAKIYA: Exactly.
UNIDENTIFIED SPEAKER: Do you think that he can be walked back and do you think it's wise to ignore his position?
MR. MAKIYA: I'll start with the last one. I do not think it is wise to ignore his position. He was the absent presence in our meetings throughout. What I learnt in the course of my work on this committee is that he is an important moral force in the country and potentially a force for the good and in the direction of stability and in the direction of the kind of constitution that I think we would all like to see.
His influence is simply enormous. It would be very interesting to trace how it grew so fast, but every element imaginable tries to speak in his name. I'd say that it is important to approach him in the right way and talk with him. I don't think he will reverse his fatwa. I entertained such thoughts in the beginning, but I realized he won't. But given his influence, I think it's important to work with him for the smoothness of the process -- for something that would be truly dramatic when it ends.
Now I realize there are real problems and schedule is one of them, and perhaps he's he can be made aware of the mechanics and the difficulties of the elections. But my own view on this has been changing. I'll be absolutely honest with you. I always believed that the constitutional process will benefit from time. At the end of the day, it's not just about the piece of paper. It's about the piece of paper taking root in hearts and minds and, therefore, the process is all important.
Now -- given the long history of disregard for law in Iraq -- it's very necessary to resurrect that idea, to cultivate it, and there are some very complex questions, like federalism, for instance, involved here. These are not going to be easy to communicate to large numbers of people. Work has to be done in advance.
Delaying things, or appearing to delay things, may not mean no work is done on the content of the constitution. We can use that time fruitfully in all kinds of very useful ways to open up that public discourse.
We have a problem though, and this brings me back to the Sistani issue. I very much like the way it was done in South Africa. Unfortunately, we can't quite work to that model.
In South Africa, because of the character of Nelson Mandela -- because of who he was -- a very small group of people put together the first draft of what was going to become the South African constitution. Three parties -- the Liberal Party, I think, and the ANC and the ruling party at the time. And then a public debate erupted. It was very intense throughout South Africa, and it was important to cementing the ideas of that constitution amongst South Africans.
It's a very long document. Actually, that's a problem. It's over a hundred pages. But putting that question aside, they had an important, intense public debate, which the evidence suggests we can have also in Iraq. But what I don't want to have is a debate with nothing there. At the end of the day, the final South African constitution is not all that different from the thing they started with. The debate went on about lots of little clauses, changes and so forth, but at the end of the day nothing of great substance was changed. But the debate took place -- I wish we could emulate that.
Now you need characters with the moral authority to pull that off. Here's where you come back to Sistani. I want a debate on the constitution. It's essential to the future of the country, but we need it with the backing of some of these hidden players. With that we could have something truly interesting happen here. So how to finesse this is the critical question as I see it.
Also, I might say on the matter of finessing, federalism, too, needs to be finessed. It's not enough to stand back from it the way the United States has done. It's necessary to get in there and engage -- it's a geopolitical question, it's a question that involves surrounding countries, it's a question that interests a lot of people other than just Iraqis.
So there has to be real work with -- for instance, the Kurds, -- ground work before the question erupts in public. This is very, very important . Otherwise, it could become a mess and opinions could go all over the place. So we need to contain that and the way to do that is to have some working principles in place and have those debated and discussed to frame the discussion.
UNIDENTIFIED SPEAKER: Iraq being Islamic, what does this mean to different Muslims and how are non-Muslims reacting to this? And has the work done in Afghanistan and Palestine on their constitutions played a role or had any influence on Iraq's constitutional work? And then Sharia and Islamic law, how many Iraqis want this?
MR. MAKIYA: Regarding -- first of all, we don't have a constitution that actually says anything about Islam yet. But it does seem like a majority -- an overwhelming majority of people in the committee would support some reference to Islam or the main religions of Iraq as being a source of inspiration for the laws and so on of the country, but left in that very general phraseology.
And so from various discussions that have taken place, although this is not the mandate of the committee, I suspect some such formula will be all that is required to satisfy the overwhelming majority of people in Iraq. And the idea of Sharia law being present in the constitution is, I think, a non-starter. There's too much opposition to it; it reminds people of the Iranian experience which none of them want to see replicated in Iraq, even Shiite Iraqis.
UNIDENTIFIED SPEAKER: [Inaudible] the U.N. role?
MR. MAKIYA: My -- you're asking my personal view on what the U.N. role should be?
UNIDENTIFIED SPEAKER: Yes.
MR. MAKIYA: I think that if you want a dramatic break with the past -- in the direction of some of the things I've been talking about, then we have made progress and things should be left for the Coalition to sort out on the political front. The U.N. would introduce an element of delay, it would be inclined as an institution to make the future Iraq more like an improved version of one of the Arab states. Personally, I don't want that.
So involvement of the U.N. is from my point of view an invitation to keep Iraq closer to what the norm is in that part of the world. I suspect that that would be the consequence. I prefer to see the U.N. supervising elections and distributing aid, all of which I think are great functions for it in Iraq, and I'm all for that.
UNIDENTIFIED SPEAKER: Kanan, currently the process that you're describing is fascinating. I mean, this is the first time in the Arab world in years, if ever, that there's this intellectual bubbling debate about what the future will be. Do you have any indications of how peoples in the surrounding countries view this? I don't mean the governments, I mean the peoples, and how intensely are they watching this?
MR. MAKIYA: I'm glad you made that distinction between the countries and the governments. And you should add a third party, the satellite stations and the Arab media. The Arab populations that I run into, say, in Jordan or in Kuwait, see something new going on. They're riddled with feelings of guilt, why didn't we. since there's no doubt about the criminality of Saddam, for instance.
But the old ideologies still hang in and there isn't an alternative to that way of thinking that, okay, true, he was a criminal and maybe I misjudged how bad a criminal he was, and maybe we should show what he did to the Kurds, and maybe we should start showing all that stuff, not hiding it.
But after all, he's an Arab and after all this is the West. The ideology stays and it's cemented, unfortunately, by -- I have to be absolutely frank here -- the very negative role that the Arab media is playing in the whole Iraq crisis.
That having been said, some stations are occasionally putting out some extremely good material. For instance, Lebanon's LBC, while they really did a number on me personally, have been regularly putting out a series on the crimes of the former regime. That's new. That never happened in Arab media before.
Even one of the worst offenders, Aladabia, has access to some of the videotapes of the regime's own barbarous acts that it keeps on putting out from time to time. But the overwhelming message is negative and anti what the coalition is trying to do and what Iraqis are trying to do.
]]>It's not enough to say that those who opposed the war against the Iraqi state were wrong. Nobody can be asked to know the future. But how to you continue to be so wrong? Almost as bad - the badness mitigated by its inconsequentiality - is the unwillingness to acknowledge the wrong. The hapless Dennis Kucinch declared, on the eve of the fall of Baghdad, that now was the moment to withdraw. A major anti-war demo was scheduled for April 12. There has been an easy forgetting of all the horrible consequences that we should surely have expected. There was some grudging concession that it was good to see Sadaam Hussein turned out: unsaid was how else but by massive American violence it was to be done.
What's left of the anti-war movement is now outraged at the peace. There's been lots of carping, at this and that, almost all of it some combination of disingenuous, petty, and wrongheaded. Looting was reported. Thefts of Iraq's (pre-Arab) antiquities received the most attention. When the stories sifted, though, what had happened was found to be rather different. The losses were smaller than announced and the thefts were mostly an inside job (by people with Ba'thist connections). So? News stories develop one way or another. Anyone can draw the wrong conclusion from a story's first couple of days. What's not so excusable is the pouncing on this story, as if missing art-work invalidated the freeing of a people.
It is argued that since America made such quick work of the Iraqi forces, the war is now shown to have been unjustified. Well, no. Consider two points. First, we knew, nightfall of Sept. 11, certain things about our enemies. They torture flight attendants in this country. They routinely massacre non-Pashtun populations in Afghanistan. They machine-gun tourists in Egypt. They rape and murder entire villages in Algeria. They carry out slave-raids in Sudan. They blow up Israeli civilians by the busload. These are not worthy opponents.1 They still need to be killed, and in great number.
Second, let's state the obvious: this was a brilliant military victory. Iraq's forces might have defeated someone else. It didn't happen this time. American victory, was not simply the result of overwhelming firepower. "Shock and awe" fell flat. But the targeting of commanders and command structures worked, as did the campaign to induce military units to disband without a fight. And the individual American soldier, one on one, overwhelmingly outfought their Arab adversaries. How does any of that amount to being wrong?
The big complaint these days is, the W.M.D, where are they? Since the war was all about W.M.D, it's clear that we were gulled. Well, again, no. First, it is fantastic to think that Iraq had no programs to develop weapons of mass destruction. Nobody really argued such a thing, not even the Iraqi state. The argument was always, what to think of those programs, and how to regulate or end them. The remnants of the anti-war movement are claiming that the non-discovery (i.e. except where it 's been discovered) of materials and documents easily hidden or destroyed prove the badness of the war. Surely, being proved wrong must be addictive.
But also: was this war just about non-proliferation? The administration often gave that impression. Our objective was said to be that "Sadaam must disarm," and in its overtures to the U.N. it spoke of disarmament above all.2 The real objective was, or should have been, the destruction of the Iraqi state. That was worth a war. The Iraqis who refused to fight for Sadaam, they saw that. The Iraqis, who rejoiced in Sadaam's fall, they saw that. One slogan had it - with some truth - that "The World Says No To War." Fool of a World: it should learn to see what should have been plain to all.
What's particularly revealing about the anti-war movement is its current position on sanctions. Supporters of the "pro-Arab" position have long maintained that the U.N. (not U.S.) sanctions against Iraq were a great crime against humanity - remember that these sanctions were offered in extenuation of 9/11. Today, when they are so clearly pointless, sanctions are no longer an issue for the proponents of peace (just not this peace).
***
Now's not the time to gloat.
From September 11 to April 9, we have been living through (if amid languors) Churchillian great days. "Nothing almost sees miracles but misery." Great days, but not good times. The world is, unavoidably, not what it was. It is a smaller world, and not overall, a happier one. It will seem ominous to some that the President spoke of the "battle" of Iraq. But we are still, like it or not, in the day after 9/11. The thing must be seen to its end. The rousting of the Arab and Afghan pirate utopias was a good start. The destruction of the most heavily armed Arab state, and perhaps the most hostile to us, was a good follow-up. What follows will depend on some combination of our will and local circumstances in that part of the world. But it's not over. No more 9-11's means that even the most obtuse Middle Eastern bigot comes to understand that such measures as 9-11 will be answered with utterly disproportionate violence; and that nothing in his world can force us to surrender. And certainly, if we enter Syria and its Lebanese colony, and we destroy the Ba'th Party there and Hizbullah, there is no ethical obstacle to doing so. But it's bloody work, and not work we ever asked for.
After April 9, recriminations should be precision weapons. It's not unfair to call the big anti-war protests "objectively pro-Sadaam;" but it would not be useful to describe a random participant so. Many who marched simply don't trust this administration - and there they had a point, even if they had got this issue wrong. Many thought that peace just is a good thing - and it often is, even though this "peace" was far more destructive than "Bush's War on the Iraqi People." Most of the peace movement's slogans were, at least, embarrassing. But only the prominent need be embarrassed. Celebrities fall into two groups. People in entertainment - showfolk - shouldn't face boycotts. Actors and musicians don't do opinion professionally. (Imagine listening to a musician hold forth on the economic consequences of a war.) Opinion-mongers are a different case. They shouldn't be boycotted, quite. But why would you want to take seriously on a subject someone who has been so wrong so consistently? Those who have discredited themselves are - discredited.
The question of recriminations is distinct from civil liberties issues, although many in the peace movement have tried to blur the distinction. Criticism of the peace movement does not violate free speech, not do boycotts. And look at those supposedly victimized by their anti-war advocacy.
* Noam Chomsky's non-book 9-11 becomes a #1 best seller.
* Michael Moore won an Academy Award for a tendentious "documentary."
* Katha Pollitt has just won a National Magazine Award (proof that no-one reads her)
* Edward Said was most recently awarded a literary prize worth $50,000 Euros (and a Miro sculpture)
* Susan Sontag sold her papers for over a $1,000,000
* Lynne Stewart was just given a public interest award at the CUNY Law School
* Cornel West's snits have been given front-page attention by The New York Times, which also ran an article treating him as our Socrates (minus the wisdom, and the humility and the hemlock)
Contrast this with the coals of unkindness heaped on Steve Earle and the Dixie Chicks.3 The First Amendment and the Justice Department have nothing to do with it. It's capitalism at work. People who appear on CMT protest the war at some risk. A Chomsky has a niche, a market sector.4 He can lie outrageously and profit from those lies. Sontag complains of how she is treated. Think rather of poor Steve and poor Natalie, Sontag once - a long time ago (and even then it wasn't the hippest preference imaginable) - spoke approvingly of the Supremes. Today, Steve Earle and the Dixie Chicks might easily record a Supremes song; and it would be a greater addition to the culture than, say, In America. There are civil liberties concerns in the country, as there were on Sept. 10, 2001. The anti-war left has had nothing useful to say on the subject, being to pre-occupied admiring its embattled self, pumping up the prerogatives of an Arab/Islamic constituency, and otherwise offering Chicken-Little prognoses. Those most seriously and effectively concerned with civil liberties post-USA Patriot Act have been libertarians - who skew right.
People should be free to say whatever they want, but nothing protects them from being wrong. The claims of the anti-war movement have been so demonstrably false (or beside-the-point) and, often, so repugnant as to make any criticism of administration policy look bad. That's unfortunate. Years ago, Jeanne Kirkpatrick coined the phrase, "Blame America first," and the anti-war movement could have been her Exhibit A. There's a problem with the phrase, though. Where public opinion can be said to exist - and that's not everywhere - appeal should be made to that opinion. When opposition to government policy can be expressed at no great cost in one place, but not in another, it should be more readily expressed there (whether it should be expressed at all depends on the policy). When your actions can affect an outcome, the case for taking action is, to that extent, stronger. So, yes, blame America first: first, because you can, and because it may do some good. And yes, blame America. Virtue ought to begin at home. A patriotism that gives blanket approval to everything about the home country and magnifies the slightest failure of the rest of the world is simple hypocrisy. To blame America first is fine. What's not fine is to blame America when it was not blameworthy, to accuse it falsely - as the peace movement did. And it's not fine, having "blamed America first," to stop there, to then refuse to blame, say, the other side (or to offer the most perfunctory, pro forma, unctuous condemnations of truly monstrous characters).
There is a need for a left, now that the imagined left has excised itself so clearly from the national conversation. The peace movement looked at polls showing support for military action with U.N. approval and concluded that a majority was against the war. The moment came. The U.N. didn't matter, and opposition to the war sank toward single digit percentages. Domestically, the war has had some clear winners, all on one side. Those who said "no to Bush's war" - as if it were his war - have no share in the victory. Nancy Pelosi was reduced to saying, truly enough, that the Democratic Party had "no position" on the war. No position! The Nation had dreamt that she was "ready to rumble." Her stance, rather, was, No comment in thunder.
The former left might have avoided becoming Sadaam's Great White Hope. It might have asked the right questions instead of offering the wrong answers. A war like this one could be a very bad thing. This one wasn't. This one wasn't. A war like this could be a very bad thing. Who, worth listening to, will tell the wars apart? To have a hegemon in the world is dangerous. Not to have a hegemon in the world is dangerous. What is to become of Iraq? Will it become a free-trading, constitutional republic? Are they supposed to become just like us? How constrained is possibility? Is our future, and the world's, just more of our present?
Think no.
Notes
1 September 11 seemed unprecedented. But that combination of months (or years) of planning and the meagerness of tools is actually typical of most jailbreaks, once the trick is known, it stops working: Flight 93. What distinguishes the flower of Arab manhood from our worst felons was not a greater ingenuity, or courage, or any virtue, but its unsought of depravity.
2 The U.S., of course, failed to get a second (in fact, eighteenth) resolution in the Security Council. Suppose that a resolution had been proposed forbidding the U.S. from going to war? Clearly, it would have been vetoed (or ignored). So, too, if Russia were to invade Georgia, it would have its veto ready, and if China attacked Taiwan, and so on... The United Nations Organization is not without value, but it is very limited and very flawed. Most people if they were confused about it before, they're not now.
3 Steve Earle and the Dixie Chicks aren't hardcore country but their hardcore fans are. These performers deserve sympathy. Think of Steve Earle, skeletal and near death from drug use, imprisoned, and always eagerly courting commercial failure: In trouble again. And the Dixie Chicks: I saw them on TV explaining to John Hiatt that they haven't known too much sorrow, and so there is none in the songs they write. He brightened up and offered that he thought he could help. Now, they're probably learning on their own. By contrast, what a repellent bunch Chomsky and the others are.
4 It would, of course, be reductive to say that a Chomsky is in it for the money. But he cannot seriously pretend to disinterest. His stance pays, and it doesn't cost. And we should be mindful of the claims of a hack like Paul Buhler that everybody on the other side has been bought and paid for: Paul Buhle, a tenured professor (and fighter for the workers) at Brown University, and holder of one book contract after another (and what books they are). We should remember, too, Edward Said's constant query: Who's behind him? There's a lot of money behind him.
A Note on Profiling
Before the 2000 election, there was a lot of argument about profiling. Part of the argument was deciding just what the thing was. Two things could be distinguished, with lots falling in between, and both were, unfortunately called "profiling." One was driving-while-black profiling. The other was the narrowing of suspects in a particular police investigation to one racial category.
The driving-while-black issue is not a hard one: it is standard for long-standing police practice. There is a continuity from the Slave Codes to Jim Crow to de facto segregation to DWB. It has served to restrict the movement of black people (not just young men) to certain areas, and within certain areas. It has resulted in a liberty under proviso. Doing away with this kind of profiling has more to do with the Thirteenth Amendment than the Fourth.
The other kind of "profiling" can very easily be abused, but it is not itself an abuse. Take the case of Amadou Diallo. The cops in that case were said to be looking for a serial rapist in that neighborhood. The rapist was black; his victims were black. You can if you like believe that the cops were, in fact, guilty of murder. But does the case say anything about profiling, or alternatives to profiling? To avoid profiling, would it have made sense to stop white men (or women) in another borough?
Turn it around. A kid with pink hair is reported to be selling Ecstasy in a club. Plainclothes cops come in, and they stop/question/search/arrest someone within the usual search-and-seizure/due process constraints. They should be looking for a kid with pink hair, or if there's more than one, try to determine which is their kid with pink hair. They cannot justify giving a black kid in the club a hard time. "Inclusion" won't justify it. "Color-blindness" won't justify it. Sensitivity to the feelings of people with minority fashion preferences won't justify it. The "profile" is what it is. Including someone extraneous to the profile within an investigation is either, in most cases, inconsequential, or else, simple oppression.
The debate over profiling - once a real one - was killed on the 2000 campaign trail. George W. Bush seized on "profiling" - carefully undefined - as a "black" issue he could get behind. There was a twist, though. The Republican Party was trolling for Arab-American votes; and with the assistance of such unsavory types as Grover Norquist and Sami al-Arian, the effort had some success. And Al Gore was not about to be out civil rightsed. So: "profiling" - whatever it was - died officially (whatever police practice on the ground may continue to be).
The great beneficiaries of this death have been, with no history of oppression, with higher income levels than the average, with no little degree of privilege: Arabs and Arab-Americans. For every 25 year-old male Saudi searched at an airport, a black grandmother must be searched. A quick look under a hijab is protested as virtual rape. A woman described as a "convert to Islam" demands that her Florida driver's license show her with a veil, as if Andres Serrano had gone to work for the DMV. Groups like CAIR and AMC, so generally dishonest, are thieves of other people's oppression. As matters stand, you are likelier to be profiled into prison for making a wallet disappear than for making a city disappear.
It's not surprising that the "profiling" of those ethnically most eligible for al-Qa'ida got more support from black than white Americans. (They knew the difference.)
]]>It can be difficult to keep straight that much-urged distinction between anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism. When Nobel laureate Jose Saramago described last year's siege of Arafat's compound as "a crime comparable to Auschwitz," I confess that my confidence in the distinction briefly faltered. I imagine that Berman's confidence in the distinction sometimes falters, too: when he googled "Jenin" and "Auschwitz," he got 2,890 hits; when he googled "Jenin and Nazi", he got 8,100 hits; "Sharon and Hitler" got 63,100.
It is not the smallest virtue of Terror and Liberalism that its argument establishes a plausible motive for these linguistic tics. On Berman's account, while anti-Semitism infiltrates this sort of anti-Zionist polemic, the anti-Semitism is beside the point. Berman establishes a fascinating inverse correlation: last year's hysterical anti-Israeli passion rose with Palestinian atrocities, specifically with the rise of the suicide bombers' attacks on civilians, and fell with the largely successful Israeli repression of the suicide bombers, and the accompanying vast increase in Palestinian misery and oppression. So it was not Palestinian suffering that produced the Left's demonization of the Israelis; only Palestinian crime had that effect. How did this happen?
Berman argues that a significant portion of the Left cannot abide evidence that large numbers of people adopt mad and murderous politics‹and have never been able to abide such evidence. The resulting parody of reasoning is by now wearily familiar: if a political group is given to serial atrocity, its members must surely have been grossly provoked. If they have been so grossly provoked, those who have provoked them more or less deserve the atrocities inflicted on them. The impulse to serial atrocity is thus understandable, at least partially extenuated, and in some sense rational.People who are rational and aggrieved can be appeased, or better yet, persuaded. People who are rational, unappeasable and un-persuadable can be deterred. If you live in the shadow of the Somme, or Nagasaki, or Vietnam, it is very appealing to think that your enemies can be persuaded, or appeased, or deterred.
On the strength of Berman's analysis, we can also make sense of some of the first (and very imperfectly-remembered) responses to September 11th. For example, that lively issue of the London Review of Books, where Cambridge classicist Mary Beard startlingly observed that after the first unreflecting reactions wore off, "when the shock had faded, more hard-headed reaction set in. This wasn't just the feeling that, however tactfully you dress it up, the United States had it coming. That is, of course, what many people openly or privately think. World bullies, even if their heart is in the right place, will in the end pay the price." When some of the London Review's American correspondents expressed their irritation and incredulity at this little homily, and doubted that the incinerated office workers and crushed firemen "had it coming," Mary Beard's circle of acquaintance was by no means eager to back away from her summary of its pithy moral calculus. The exchange ran for months‹and the LRB's circulation allegedly rose on the strength of it. It is important to remember, as we hear repeated warnings that our subsequent actions have cost us the almost-universal sympathy September 11th is supposed to have earned us, that the comments cited above were among the earlier reactions to the attacks. Assertions of near-universal sympathy for our losses are fantasies; what was most striking about the first reaction to September 11th was what seemed to be the venomous Schadenfreude it evoked. But on Berman's reading, it wasn't Schadenfreude: it was the recurrent, seductive desire that the world be less terrible than the world turns out to be.
So a year and a half ago, it was necessary to look a little carefully at those bullying acts we had committed in the immediate run-up to September 11th. Which bullying had so offended al-Qaeda? We had (very belatedly) rescued the Muslims of Bosnia from their Christian tormentors, the Muslim Kossovars from their Muslim tormentors, the Muslims of Kuwait from a secular Arab invasion, attempted to rescue the Muslims of Mogadishu from a famineŠthe list went on.American history was not without spot or stain, but if Osama bin Laden was on the 11th of September attempting to avenge Wounded Knee, or My Lai, or the sundry injuries the Palestinians have suffered at the hands of American proxies, he'd kept it to himself. Although it seemed grotesque, bin Laden, vexed not least by Ataturk's abolition of the Caliphate--in the early 1920s--had commissioned mass murder in Manhattan late in 2001. Mary Beard and her friends, who were not in any simple sense strikingly stupid or villainous people, could not imagine the real.
Berman argues that Breytenbach mistook the Israelis for a would-be Herrenvolk (his own usage), and Saramago mistook Jenin for Auschwitz, for the same reason that an earlier generation of the Left mistook the Gulag for a tough-minded version of the New Jerusalem, and the horrors of the Cultural Revolution for more of the same; for the same reason that Noam Chomsky, after failing to discredit the horrific reports coming out of Cambodia, settled for conflating Pol Pot with Suharto. For Berman, Chomsky is the most indefatigable example of the type:mad rationalists, people who lack the courage to imagine the real.
Terror and Liberalism attempts a lot in a short book.Berman very quickly anatomizes totalitarianism, locates some of its roots in European Romanticism, traces a genealogy, and extends that genealogy to include the progenitors of what has come to be called Islamo-fascism: to Hassan al-Banna, and Sayyid Qutb, and Michael Aflaq.He insists on the inevitable link between totalitarianism and terror. There is much to argue with, and much to commend. Alas, the book has received the treatment one might have anticipated: a protracted and spiteful attack in The Nation, one enlivened by a defense of Chomsky's take on Pol Pot (a stirring display of Kadavergehorsamkeit in the face of an awful lot of real corpses), and what looks like a subtler bit of malice by the New York Times, where the book was assigned to the managing editor of Commentary, who (between sneers) damned it with very faint praise.
One suspects that the Commentary fellow was animated by more than mere tribalism. On occasion, Berman seems to suggest that Islamo-fascism may be more of a threat to Muslims than it is to us, and that we owe a duty of solidarity to its chief victims. This is not (to say the least) a popular line on the Right, where enlightened self-interest apparently remains a sufficiently radical notion to elicit howls of rage at newly-idealistic neo-cons, at least from the paleo-cons and the senior survivors of the first Bush Administration. Berman also suggests that a political campaign against Islamo-fascism must be fought on the classic liberal ground of human rights and feminism.These tones presumably grate on an ear trained at Commentary, where affectionate institutional memory presumably stretches back to the days when Mrs. Kirkpatrick was solidarizing with Argentine generals given to vivisecting nuns with chain-saws. Berman is uneasy about the durability of the neo-con commitment to human rights for Middle Easterners. His Times review suggests that he is right.
]]>A natural democrat, Hogan identifies with everyday people in motion. Feeling her way forward, she fully comprehends the personal transformations at the "base" of SNCC's peak political achievements. But Hogan also dares to explore why SNCC went down slow. Pressing beyond more superficial explanations that have focused, for example, on racial tensions within the organization, she tells an intense story of how a "structural" problem became moral one. "Many Minds, One Heart" is a historical narrative that's right on time for anyone concerned with the future of democratic practice in America (or Iraq! or Cuba!).
We thank Wesley Hogan for allowing us to print the introduction to "Many Minds, One Heart' below along with a slightly adapted excerpt from her dissertation's penultimate chapter on SNCC's demise.
Sweat beaded on twenty-one year old Charles McLaurin's head as he opened the car door and got out. His stomach felt weak, his knees unsure. What he called "the fear" was upon him. He stood up as the three elderly women got out of the back seat and started toward the courthouse on a hot August day in 1962, "as if this was the long walk that led to the Golden Gate of Heaven, their heads held high." He stood behind them, watching the "pride with which they walked. The strong convictions that they held." The women had told stories of the years gone by in the car while McLaurin sat "with knees shaking, mouth closed tightly so as to not let them hear the fear in my voice." When they drove through Sunflower, Mississippi, one of the women said, "Won't be long now." McLaurin's heart jumped, and then seemed to stop: "fear, so much fear, realizing what danger could lie ahead for us, especially me." The women, whose ages ranged from 65 to 85, "knew the white man and his ways, they knew him because they had lived, worked for him." At the courthouse in Indianola, McLaurin stayed by the car as each woman walked up to the white registrar and said, "I want to vote."
McLaurin spent the next four years "registrating." That is to say, in the majority-black Mississippi delta, he encouraged African Americans to exercise their right to vote. Eventually, those who registered and those who were stopped from registering combined forces to invent something entirely new in American politics - a party structure made up of "legal" and "illegal" voters. At the Democratic National Convention in Atlantic City in 1964, they would introduce their creation to the nation: the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party.
Yet nothing in 1964 or later was the high point for McLaurin. Nor was any event later in the decade. His peak moment occurred when these three black elderly ladies had given him "the spirit to continue." So instructed on that day in 1962, he fixed in his mind how to live.1
For subsequent observers, Charles McLaurin becomes an exemplar of where the movement stood at a critical juncture during 1965-66. He was a member of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC). Inside SNCC between 1960 and 1966, people learned to identify the specific nature of their grievances, and to act in a way that verified their own dignity. The young people of SNCC often felt like pioneers - "in a strange place and an unknown land," as McLaurin put it. They tried to provide "light," or follow a light, or perhaps even be a light that illuminated a New World of political activity. Drawing upon American traditions and Gandhian sources, they imagined and then put into practice fresh models of resistance - the sit-ins of 1960, and the freedom rides of 1961. Such dramatic innovations were not appreciated by the relevant authorities. Nevertheless, these activists managed to achieve a series of victories through their creative - and electrifying - protests. SNCC's assertions of independence from America's racial caste system - and the high drama of their efforts at self-definition - carried a recruiting power of its own. The movement's early philosophy and tactics were sympathetically greeted, if not fully grasped, by large number of young white Americans who adapted and experimented with the SNCC folkway of "acting as if you were free to act." The result was the "counterculture" of the 1960s.
The totality of these cultural transformations, both real and attempted, had the effect of generating inside SNCC an unstable combination of rising expectations and accelerating tensions. One of the great strengths of the civil rights movement had been the utter unpredictability that grew out of its experimental approach to inherited tradition. Within SNCC, this presence necessarily depended upon a genuine tolerance of error. Indeed, it was SNCC's faith in the lessons derived from experience (from failure), its seemingly effortless capacity for improvisation, that most dramatically stamped its style and also its appeal. If SNCC had anything to say about it, the new desegregated America would be generous.
Yet the acceleration of political resistance and police repression began to widen the gap between the political perceptions of the larger society and those of people in the movement. Lyndon Johnson's landslide victory in November 1964 did not resonate among either of the contending parties in the Mississippi delta - the hard-line segregationists anchored in the White Citizen's Councils or movement activists like Charles McLaurin who had built the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party. Despite some concessions by the President, the movement felt rejected by the regular Democrats. By the time Johnson settled into his new term of office at the beginning of l965, SNCC was no longer riding some burgeoning tide of popular understanding and support. Quite the contrary. The movement turned inward, focused on internal recriminations and, in a remarkably brief time, lost its hard-won momentum.
By the late summer of 1965, McLaurin found the Greenwood project staff "divided and about to kill one another and the project not doing a thing." He soon got it back on track, determined to keep on "until more than 10,000 Negroes are registered to vote in LeFlore County."2 One of many who tried to deflect dissention in the name of preserving the movement's focus on organizing in the towns and hamlets of the South, he found the barriers to grassroots empowerment too imposing. The movement's cutting edge, its McLaurins working at the base of society, had been blunted. Things began to disintegrate. By the end of the following year, 1966, SNCC had ceased, in any programmatic sense, to exist.
Precisely how this happened has remained, for almost four decades, something of a puzzle. It is as if the civil rights movement became sacred ground, occupying terrain beyond reach, beyond interpretation, beyond analysis. A kind of sanctified mist hovers over this landscape. Doubting any movement pieties appears akin to correcting the grammar of the Gettysburg Address. 3
The result is profoundly destructive: the act of raising people to sainthood dehumanizes them. As the late historian Herbert Gutman vividly noted, it is not possible to honor people by romanticizing them. Today, forty years after the fact, young people are quietly skeptical of the idealized narrative they are often handed on Martin Luther King Jr. Day, or by Hollywood. Discussion of the movement is seen as just "old folks talking." Even those who don't know or care much about the inaugural dramas of the sit-ins and the apocalyptic freedom rides, or the tension and grandeur of the Selma March, can't grope their way to any sort of genuine historical understanding because they are, like everyone else, trapped within the aura of sainthood.
This is not to say that this book constitutes a dramatic break with tradition, because, simply enough, it begins and lives on this sanctified terrain. It must - and for a very elemental reason: In the 1950s, the rituals of a racial caste system rooted in three hundred years of lived experience persisted in the cities, towns and countryside of America. A scant ten years later those rituals lay shattered. The social relations of black and white Americans fashioned over the better part of three centuries had been consigned to historical oblivion. The ten year achievement was profound; the cost for many people was severe; the long-term meaning still to be acted out on the stages of the nation's history. Nothing is settled. While segregation had been dismantled, the culture of white supremacy endures. Nevertheless, the Movement's rise and fall remains one of the pivotal sequences of American history.4 Riven with agonizing contradictions, this moment is too rich in tragedy and rebirth to be sanded off, polished and then domesticated under a cacophony of churchly hymns.
What follows, then, proceeds from an undeniable premise: fallible human beings gave this epochal decade the shape it came to have. They did so with resolve, with imagination and while in thrall to grand dreams. They also, on occasion, proceeded in error. At their best moments, it appears they were ahead of where we are today.
It may be time to acknowledge that we cannot go much further up the road until we find a way to be precise about what they knew and what they had not yet learned...
WHAT DO YOU MEAN REVOLUTION?
In the weeks following the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party's betrayal and defeat in Atlantic City, SNCC staff struggled with the realization that the movement had gotten itself bogged down in some sort of impasse - at the very least a setback and perhaps something much broader and deeper, something approaching a crisis. SNCC was perceived to have "structural problems."
The answer offered by SNCC's Atlanta-based executive director, Jim Forman, was to put aside the movement's experimental style. He made very clear his view that the organization's decentralized structure was the causative factor in the aimlessness and confusion that beset the organization. SNCC needed to "alter the over-all decision-making body within the organization, for the organization has been in limbo, because of the unresolved nature of this question." SNCC was much too leaderless and people continued to shy away from power, he said. SNCC needed a strong centralized executive structure. It was the only way to maintain internal cohesion and unity.5
Yet Forman's proposed alteration of the movement's trajectory contrasted too markedly with SNCC's own traditions. 6 From the very outset, the organizers deeply engaged in SNCC's most developed local projects did not support Forman's approach. Most prominent among them were Bob Moses and Charles Sherrod. Many other well known local organizers, like Charles McLaurin and Hollis Watkins among them, also listened respectfully but did not rally to the views of SNCC's executive secretary. Nonetheless, Forman proved tenacious. Participants discovered that we was doing more than floating a trial balloon; when his sought-after support failed to materialize, he tried again. And he kept trying.
This impasse among the most compelling veterans of SNCC created what can perhaps best be described as a problem in manners. No one wanted to be seen participating in a public rebuke of Jim Forman. He was a committed son of the movement. Yet his very unwillingness to acknowledge the absence of support created an awkward gridlock...
Before the Waveland staff meeting - which, in retrospect, proved to be one of the critical junctures of the movements of the 1960s - Forman had tried to address the vacuum of power he perceived within SNCC by introducing a Black Belt Program. He proposed that SNCC recruit black students to fan out from Virginia to Texas, registering voters over the following summer. For Forman, the Black Belt Summer Project could "serve to capitalize on the momentum of the Mississippi Project, but with our errors in Mississippi corrected, and [serve] to consolidate bases in regional structure with national potential."7 There was no questioning Forman's personal courage or dedication. Over the past five years, he had faced down lynch mobs from Monroe, North Carolina to McComb, Mississippi, and many places in between. To provide administrative support to those in the field, he had made countless drives on lonely country roads, always wondering if nearing headlights signaled a mere passing car or imminent death. He had stayed - and not bailed out of - jails in Albany, Greenwood, and Atlanta. Once, in 1963, in Danville, Virginia, he had personally challenged E.G. McCain, that city's malevolent police chief, in order to give demonstrators time to get away from McCain's fire hoses. Furthermore, Forman had tirelessly maintained the material base of the organization since 1961, setting up an administrative structure to fund-raise and communicate with northern supporters - all despite serious health problems which led to multiple hospitalizations.8
Yet just as he admitted in his opening speech at Waveland, each SNCC person could only know so much. "I shall attempt to write a personal history of SNCC," he said on November 6, "because there are many things about this organization which only I can write, just as there are many things about the Indianola project which only Charles McLaurin can write, or just as there are many things about McComb which only Jesse Harris can write, or Bill Hansen about Arkansas or Cordell Reagon about Southwest Georgia." Forman had kept the Atlanta office functioning. He had traveled extensively in the field, spending a great deal amount of time in local projects in order to better understand and assess local needs - and convey these needs to northern supporters. In the aggregate, he had volunteered for a greater variety of undertakings than the vast majority of Americans, the vast majority of activists, and indeed, a goodly number of those present at Waveland.
There was one area of organizing in which Forman's level of experience did not set him apart from a large number of his movement associates. That activity centered around the slow and patient work in communities - the daily work that an old time labor activist once described as happening "at the base of society where people lived." And this fact associated Forman not with grassroots insurgency but with the political assumptions of all others persons, including activist intellectuals, who did not live "at the base." This happenstance kept Forman from a central movement insight - namely, the specific process through which ordinary humans acquired that most sought-after political attribute: "consciousness." It was not something that one learned by reading an approved text, or by following an esteemed leader. It was, rather, something one experienced through acting. And it was something that a large number (but not all) SNCC people learned through their own experiences at the base of society - people like Charles McDew, Diane Nash, John Lewis, Casey Hayden, Charles McLaurin, Hollis Watkins, and Charles Sherrod. Together with literally scores of other people who had lived in the movement long enough to see first-hand the process at work, these staff people learned (experientially and therefore in a manner that was reproducible) the specific ways through which self-activity generated consciousness.
Forman's work did not involve prolonged personal relationships "at the base of society where people live." He thus did not experience the process through which people moved from passive victims to active participants capable of saying (as the old lady in Indianola said to Charles McLaurin in 1962) "won't be long now."9 As a result, McLaurin possessed a different understanding than Forman did of how to give concrete meaning to such terms of political description as "revolutionary." The difference was graphic and unmistakable. This was why in 1964, Forman could not understand as McLaurin and Hayes did, voter registration as activity that could be transforming. "People going to the courthouse, for the first time. Then telling their friends to go down." When McLaurin expressed this at Waveland, he condensed into two sentences the monumental battles black Mississippians had experienced in their own minds of whether or not to go to the courthouse. They were lines that carried much more meaning for McLaurin and other voter registration staff than for those whose major experiences were in remote administrative enclaves. McLaurin called this activity - working to get people to think of themselves as citizens not subjects - winning the "revolution."10 It was not the revolution envisioned by Forman. Theirs was not so much an ideological disagreement; more accurately, it was an experiential gulf.
Moses, however, had shared McLaurin's work. Consequently, Forman's concept of revolution through simply increasing the numbers of black voters did not at all appeal to Moses. Students could not just come down and do the slow and respectful work of encouraging people to risk their lives to vote. They had to be trained by people like McLaurin. Yet this training took time and energy, and Moses felt "it was useless to try and go into another student project" when SNCC first needed to focus on its internal problems.
Forman elected to describe Moses' actions as a refusal to lead. It was clear to Moses, however, that he could not tell people what to do because he never in his own mind thought he had that right. "A basic principal in decision making in SNCC is that people who do the work make the decisions," Moses stated at the beginning of the summer. "Decision making should be geared to programs, not to hierarchy."11 He simply did not believe that telling others what to do was the way people learned to grow.
Forman, on the other hand, worked from a different understanding of politics. He thought the task was to "outmaneuver the racists ... hammer against the federal government ... consolidate our power and extend our influence." He felt that spending time in debate on how leadership was developed or decisions made within SNCC was an abdication of power - at the very moment in 1964-65 when SNCC might well be at its "peak of power and influence."12
The gulf between Moses' and Forman's visions now widened. In fact, their philosophies and methods seemed so far apart that in hindsight it is difficult to envision how they appeared to work in concert for so long. A plausible explanation may simply be that a singular determination to register black voters had held them together prior to the Summer Project.
What would replace this working consensus? Two different modes of thinking appeared within SNCC at this point (although many people moved frequently between them). At one pole were people clustered around James Forman's driving question: how could SNCC create an organization which would survive and seek power? Forman and those who supported him felt that SNCC "had reached the point where it was necessary to become a revolutionary organization in every sense...And an organization that is seeking revolution, and willing to use violence, cannot afford the fear of power. It cannot afford weak or vacillating leadership; it cannot afford liberalistic forms of self-assertion." At the other pole were those like Sherrod and Moses, who saw developing people at the grassroots to be their own leaders as the only coherent way to try to revolutionize society.13
Forman was very clear on this point: "Most [in SNCC], in fact, did not see themselves as creating an organization which would survive and seek power, but rather as working themselves out of business as a result of community organizing efforts that would spin off other organizations. Most did not see SNCC building a revolutionary organization." What Forman did not acknowledge was that the two groups differed on how to define revolution: for Forman, it was building a revolutionary organization to seek power. Sherrod and Moses saw power emanating from building people at the grassroots, so they could articulate and achieve their own desires and needs.14
WAVELAND
In later years, Forman considered those at Waveland to adhere around two factions, "Freedom Highs" and "Field Staff." For reasons that are not self-evident, historians and movement people alike then widely adapted this terminology. Yet it did not accurately describe the divisions at Waveland: it was not a matter of organizers on one side, and dreamers on the other. Everyone present was interested in organizing: they differed on what that meant. Some, like Moses and Sherrod, had come through the organization committed to the building of relationships that had emerged from the sit-ins and strengthened by their rural voter registration experiences. Forman labeled them "Freedom High."15 Subjecting his categories to the activity at Waveland, however, it is clear that those who were labeled "Freedom High" did not strategize together. They were not organizing for power within SNCC as an organization - they were searching desperately for a way to keep bringing people to civic life in local communities.
By the Waveland meeting, Forman said later, it was "revealed very clearly to me that we had a factional fight on our hands, and that it was necessary to organize in a way appropriate to such a fight" (emphasis added). Framing his understanding through such conceptual terms, he found it impossible to work any longer within the group's democratic ethic. Forman now prepared for a battle, organizing against others in SNCC. In other moments he had advocated bringing criticisms of others - those whom he perceived as organizing against him - out into the open. Now he worked secretly to destabilize and overcome those he named Freedom Highs.16
At a certain point a small rump group led by Forman began to believe that their analysis was more important than maintaining the group and holding it together. At this moment, some attempted to take control of SNCC to enact their agenda. Simply enough, people who wanted power took it. Goals become more important than process.
It was a circumstance repeated during the decade most notably in the national SDS organization through the fervent Progressive Labor Party between 1967-1968, but one that also played out in hundreds of local activist groups as well as those of regional or national scope.
Long before SNCC evolved, other groups of Americans had experienced similar tensions between hierarchical and democratic forms. But SNCC workers had pushed their capacities to participate in public life to a new limit - for themselves, and for the local people with whom they worked. The range of issues that emerged within SNCC during the fall of 1964 had been developing for at least two years. The limit of the democratic terrain they had plowed for so long as an organization was reached at Waveland.17 [There would be one more SNCC moment of Democratic innovation - the Lowndes County Alabama organizing that took place in 1965-66. W. H.]
However, it is critical to note that even if no one had stepped forward to organize against others in SNCC, multiple impediments - disagreement on priorities, the lack of a process to make decisions or educate new workers, money problems, the central and undiscussed dynamic of racial identity, the questions surrounding nonviolence, and the lack of interpersonal trust - now had the cumulative effect of inhibiting both candor and mutual respect. This situation was noted by nearly everyone in the group at this point, and surely would have presented a crisis throughout the fall of 1964 and into 1965 even if factions had not developed. No individual can be saddled with the blame. It seems to be a strategic point in time reached by every voluntary organization striving for an authentic organizational form. At a juncture where the group has had enough success to attract many others, it then becomes too large to continue to depend on personal ties to hold it together.
Ella Baker had taught those at the center of SNCC the importance of a firm commitment to kindling these personal connections. But there was no longer enough interpersonal contact among all of the people within the group to maintain the interdependent vision possible through daily, shared experiences.18 Without this contact, some people, in Baker's vivid phrase, "ate on each other," harshly critical of their comrades in order to justify their own vision. Forman was the most visible - but certainly not the only - such critic. He characterized those who opposed his vision as infected with a "middle-class bias." Sometimes he distinguished them as too close to whites, or decried them for smoking marijuana, or cast them as people too tightly wedded to individualist or "liberalist" thought. Some, Forman said, lacked discipline or engaged in self-indulgence or elitism. Others, he alleged, were too close to SDS and its ethic of "participatory democracy." He characterized his colleagues as a "small elitist core of self-perpetuating organizers," who could not recruit masses of people into the organization. 19 But Forman's style of argumentation never isolated the specific organizing methods that had to be guarded against - that is, the debilitating hazards remained undefined. Indeed, the prevailing reality was quite stark: the founding organizers of SNCC's two largest and most visible projects - its bellwether projects - were the Mississippi project initiated by Bob Moses and the Southwest Georgia project launched by Charles Sherrod. Among the many local organizers SNCC had across the country, none had more prestige than Moses and Sherrod. Both persistently declined to cooperate with Forman's centralizing objective.
DEMOCRATIC PATIENCE
Up until the 1964-65 period, respect and candor as modes of conduct had been the "radical" manners that structured the way people within SNCC were sanctioned to act with each other. The only way they had found to work successfully against all outside impediments - against the caste system itself - had been to band together and fight their way through to agreement, by compromise. As Dorie Ladner remarked at Waveland, "We have got to trust each other. If it takes all night, we should discuss [the lack of trust among us], to impress upon us all to be honest, a band of brothers we must be." Mike Thelwell agreed. "If one doesn't really trust someone in the organization, it is because we haven't taught trust here. We have got to find ways of creating trust and responsibility with everyone here." Absent these ways of being, the community faltered.20
How did this happen? In their own way, the participants have been trying to tell us. John Lewis noted, in preparing for the sit-ins over the winter of 1959-1960, that the Nashville group knew they were "going to do something. But it's strange. We were very patient." It was a remark that meant much more to the sit-in participants than to those who later heard it. What did Lewis mean by "patience"? It was not the patience called for by southern authorities, needless to say. Nor was it "radical" patience. It was, indeed, not a call to be patient relative to the external pace of change. Instead, it was an understanding each workshop participant had to maintain while sifting through his or her own experiences, feelings, and possible future actions. It was patience with each other. Patience in the presence of their own errors. Patience with their predecessors in the older generation. Patience with larger African-American constituencies across America. It was a mode of persistent but calm behavior that allowed people to combine the ingredients necessary to act, and to do so with sustained poise. Looking back on the Nashville workshops, Lewis' comment defines a type of democratic act. His form of patience allowed people raised in a hierarchical and segregated society to go through a sequential process that prepared them to act as full citizens.
It would, in fact, be patience that Lawson-workshop participant Marion Barry would call for in his Waveland paper. "We want a world where people grow up learning to care for others and learning many different things they can do with their lives," Barry wrote. "We hope for this world, all of us (although we don't all believe it will ever really come about.)" Even though the programs SNCC developed "are sometimes dull, or ugly, or too impatient, the hope is beautiful," he continued. "Maybe we would be more patient with each other - and our organization would therefore become more democratic - if we remember that while we are all very different, we are joined together by a hope that is very beautiful."21
But this idea of democratic patience would be hard to summon in the crisis period following Atlantic City. For most people at Waveland, their sole experience outside of the civil rights movement took place within hierarchical institutions - those of family, church, school, or business. In fact, few Americans had extensive experience with voluntary social forms. When the staff gathered at Waveland and put all of these matters on the table, it was difficult for most people to even envision, much less create, an efficient and non-hierarchical structure for SNCC.
STRUCTURING FREEDOM
At Waveland, the staff discussed "program" - what to do next - for three and a half days. On Monday, Forman passed around a paper suggesting a new staff structure. to grow the group into what he later defined as a "revolutionary organization in every sense." In it, the Coordinating Committee would meet three times a year to decide on policy, voting "very tightly and efficiently." An administrative body, the Executive Committee, would then form a Finance Committee to raise monies to disburse the budget laid out by the Coordinating Committee. An Executive Secretary "should be asked by [that] body to be the overall administrative officer of the organization." A single person - the Program Secretary - would be assigned to support people's work in the field. Even this was presented as more of an enforcer role than a supportive one: the role of the Program Secretary, Forman wrote, "will be to travel in the field to examine how programs are carried out and to report to the Executive Secretary his findings and to the Executive Committee." 22
The other two structure groups - one led by Francis Mitchell, the other by Casey Hayden and Maria Varela - presented alternatives to Forman's proposal to knit local groups through a tightly-controlled hierarchy. In contrast, Hayden and Varela's group suggested a structure in which local groups could decide themselves when to draw together to show collective strength. Mitchell's group presented what amounted to a compromise between the decentralized and hierarchical models, instituting a 'representative democracy' with an elected "interim committee" that met monthly and made decisions between full staff meetings.23
On Wednesday, the second-to-last day of the retreat, each group presented their workshop's structure to the full staff at Waveland. When Hayden's turn came, she felt it difficult to make clear an organizational form that unfamiliar to people largely accustomed to hierarchies. She consequently drew a picture of seven or eight dots connected by a circle. Each dot, Hayden explained, represented a work group. Work groups consisted of people working on the same programs: a freedom school work group, a community center work group, voter registration work group, etc. Each work group would elect an administrator from the group, who would then talk to every other group's administrator, exchanging ideas, coordinating plans, and distributing scarce resources. She then drew a triangle to represent the hierarchy Forman's structure represented. The executive secretary would be at the tip of the triangle, and s/he would tell subordinates how to proceed.24
But when Hayden finished, people laughed and booed. It was unclear why.25 In this rancorous environment, no clear resolution of SNCC's identity and purpose was possible. The three proposals by Forman, Mitchell, and Varela and Hayden both provided a strong framework for the organization, although the decentralist models were seen by some within the organization as "no structure," or "loose" compared to Forman's hierarchical structure. "That is inaccurate," Hayden later wrote. "Both are tight." Both, in other words, had the potential to hold people accountable and effectively distribute resources.26
Staff members then discussed the possible drawbacks to each of the three structures. The Forman ("C" in the minutes) and Mitchell ("A") proposals would make SNCC an institution, not service a movement. The Varela-Hayden proposal ("B") could service the movement, but did not have a formalized channel to interact with the outside world, and did not have a check or balance on the personnel/finance committee. Structure B also assumed that people in the field had enough information to make decisions every day, but SNCC's communication channels were not efficient or dependable enough to provide such information. Structure A did not clarify responsibilities for personnel and budget decisions, and required work specialization. Structure C did not provide adequately for field needs.27
All of the designs were sincere, legitimate structures for the organization, and in the tradition of SNCC, democratically generated by staff. Compared to traditional hierarchical models, the A and B structures offered SNCC a way to stay both "organized" and "accountable" to one another, without resorting to telling others what to do. B had flaws, but amounted to a decentralized structure, not anarchy.
In the absence of using consensus, Forman noted, they could not find a group solution "in an honest, thorough, collective way that would put problems in perspective and reduce frustration." Faced with this impasse, those at the Waveland conference ended on the decision to "remain with what we now have." Forman, Ivanhoe Donaldson, and Courtland Cox remained as executive secretary, administrative assistant, and program director respectively. Those interested in planning the next staff gathering were encouraged to meet.28
Though nothing in the existing secondary literature reveals that Forman's plan was a "minority position" during the Waveland meeting, the minutes of the retreat make clear that a majority of those voicing their opinion were highly skeptical of centralization; indeed, two of the three proposals for a new SNCC structure rejected hierarchy, and Forman himself noted that his ideas were out of sync with most others in SNCC. "What kind of structure we are to have was left hanging," one staff member reported. Most later secondary accounts simply note that over the course of 1965, a hierarchical structure was implemented. South Carolinian and summer recruit Cleveland Sellers recalled that in this period, SNCC workers lost the "zip and enthusiasm that had kept us going in previous times."29
SNCC persisted. Forman pursued the "Black Belt Project." Others participated in the Selma campaign in the spring of 1965. Out of this effort came SNCC's last major organizing campaign in Lowndes County, Alabama. 30
Outside of Lowndes, though, organizing now took a back seat to the traditional idea of leadership. The energy generated by the group who remained in the organization now came from the fundamental intellectual ferment that the SNCC leaders created amongst themselves in an immense struggle to reinvent black culture, the effort so powerfully documented by historian Clayborne Carson. Over the next two years, SNCC became an organization of leaders that told people what to think, rather than developing individuals' capacities to think.31
1. Charles McLaurin, "To Overcome Fear," Frame 55-56, Reel 40, SNCC Papers.
2. Charles McLaurin to Cleve Sellers, n.d. [August 1965], "Report on the Second Congressional District," Frame 165-166, Reel 40, SNCC Papers.
3. Common custom in a field of literature already flowering with thousands of books is to challenge traditional narratives, asserting the luminosity of the new work when compared to the fading explanatory power of previous endeavors. My intent is to deviate from this patricidal pattern. Instead, what follows is only one piece of the larger truths emerging from the activity known as the "civil rights movement": It is an attempt to uncover the precise sequential dynamics of how individuals successfully insisted on the right to their own lives. Barbara Deming's insightful approach has shaped my own. See Barbara Deming, We Are All Part of One Another: A Barbara Deming Reader (Phila.: New Society Publishers, 1984). Deming's idea, that we all only have one piece of the truth, does however open one to criticism - how does one's work interact with and reshape the themes in previous work in the field? Rather than include this material in the footnotes, I have included most of it in a separate appendix, "A Note on the Literature of the Movement." I beg the scholarly reader's patience with the placement of material in the footnotes that specialists in the field might include in the text. However, since such matters are of primary interest only to specialists, I tried to keep them in the notes, and direct the text toward the general reader.
4. Recent emphasis by historians on transnational scholarship illuminates the profound limitations of writing "U.S." history in the post World War II period. While the story that follows focuses on a movement within U.S. borders, it is essential to note that the participants saw their activity in the context of global liberation activities.
5. James Forman, "Text of speech delivered at the staff retreat of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee..." 6 Nov. 1964, page 2- 3, Stewart Ewen Papers, SHSW.
6. Martha Norman summarized these traditions: "Everybody ran their own project. Bob Moses used to say, 'When people are volunteering to do things, you can't tell them what to do.' And they were risking their lives. The combination meant that the people doing it made the decisions about what they were going to do." Martha Norman, Interview by Eynon and Fishman. In his autobiography, The Making of Black Revolutionaries, Forman noted that it was not until this period that he realized "the gap between my ideas of what SNCC should be and the ideas of most SNCC workers." (Forman, Black Revolutionaries, 430).
7. Forman mentioned the Black Belt Project earlier as well, in a June, 1964 staff meeting: "We should begin to view MSP [Mississippi Summer Project] as pilot project and after summer begin a black belt project." In a memo to all staff before he left for Guinea, Forman listed six positions that would be opening on the black belt project, including administrator, labor program coordinator, federal program coordinator, FDP coordinator, community center coordinator, and freedom school coordinator. Despite the fact that the full staff had not yet agreed to it, Forman's memo indicated that the project had been approved the by executive committee in September. Forman, "Staff Meeting Minutes, June 9-11, 1964," p.24-25, Frame 988, Reel 3, SNCC Papers; James Forman, to "All staff, Friends of SNCC, and potential members of the Freedom Corps," n.d. [early fall, 1964], f. 679, reel 12, SNCC Papers; Forman, Black Revolutionaries, 414, 416, 426, 429. Forman writes that "Moses and I were [the Black Belt Project's] chief proponents." Moses specifically stated that he did not support it in the interview with Carson. Ella Baker advised: "We should accept the concept that our first consideration is to solidify the programs we have; and the second step is to establish a nucleus in one or two areas in which we can develop programs via workshops and exploratory meetings. Do not commit selves to summer [Black Belt] project." (Ella Baker, "Staff meeting Oct. 11," [1964], p. 6, Frame 1018, Reel 3, SNCC Papers). The October, 1964, debate on the Black Belt project can be found on Frames 1016-1021, Reel 3, SNCC Papers. From the minutes, it appears that among those who supported it at this time were Courtland Cox, Mendy Samstein, James Forman, Ivanhoe Donaldson; those cautious, hesitant, or skeptical included Ed Brown, Charles McLaurin, Tom Brown, Lawrence Guyot, Ruby Doris Smith Robinson, Ella Baker, Marion Barry.
8. Forman suffered from bleeding ulcers. See "SNCC [Interstaff] Newsletter," 21 Jan. 1963, Frame 4, Reel 15, SNCC Papers. On Forman's confrontations with southern sheriffs and other authorities, see The Student Voice, Oct. 1962, 20 Jan. 1964, 20 Dec. 1965, as well as Making of Black Revolutionaries, 197, 257, 303, 329.
9. See introduction, p. 3.
10. Frank Smith raised this point at the staff meeting in October, 1964: "Atlantic City left many people with feeling for the necessity of an increased impetus to work in the political arena. Are we interested in building a politicial empire for SNCC [Forman's vision], or in building local leadership. ...these two types of organizations are not compatible. We must discuss what SNCC is." Frank Smith, "Staff Meeting Oct. 11," [1964,] page 4, Frame 1017, Reel 3, SNCC Papers; James Forman, "Text of speech delivered at the staff retreat..." Mary King Papers, SHSW; Charles McLaurin, "Minutes," 8 Nov. 1964, page 7, SNCC Papers, Reel 11, Frame 939. On McLaurin's work in Ruleville, see for example SNCC [Interstaff] Newsletter, 21 Jan. 1963, Frame 5, Reel 15, SNCC Papers.
11. Moses also supported the concept of group leadership, rather than that of individuals. A telling example of this involved a decision he made in rejecting CBS Television's proposal to interview Governor Paul Johnson, then Moses. Moses rejected it "because I didn't want myself projected as leader as would be if set next to Johnson. Concept of group leadership more important to get across. Decided we'd focus on a group which was representative not necessarily of the decision-making group in COFO but of COFO itself." Moses, "Staff Meeting Minutes, June 9-11, 1964," p. 21; Frame 986, Reel 3, SNCC Papers; Forman, Black Revolutionaries, 416, 417; Bob Moses, "Staff Meeting Minutes, June 9-11, 1964," page 11; Frame 980, Reel 3, SNCC Papers; Robert Moses, Interview by Clayborne Carson. These ideas of non-directive leadership are also clearly articulated in the position paper Maria Varela wrote for Waveland, "Training SNCC Staff to Be Organizers," Charles Sherrod Papers, SHSW.
12. Forman, Making of Black Revolutionaries, 418.
13. Sherrod pressed the group to examine SNCC after five years in the field. Who were they as organizers, and who did they want to organize next? To what end? These questions "flowed out" of what was for them "the central issue": who was SNCC? "Who we are and who we will be should determine what we want, what direction we go in." Forman, Making of Black Revolutionaries, 412; It is not in the minutes, everyone citing it is coming off of Forman, Dittmer knows about this according to Casey; Charles Sherrod, "From Sherrod," n.d. [Nov. 1964], Stuart Ewen Papers, SHSW.
14. Lawrence Guyot later voiced the impact this divide had on staff in February, 1965, as the group still struggled over the structure question. Guyot averred: "I'll work with anyone willing to work" rather than "polarize about structure." "We were told what we needed was a structure to operate. That's intimidation, only we didn't know it." James Forman, Making of Black Revolutionaries, 412; Lawrence Guyot, Staff meeting minutes, Feb. 1965, p. 9, Mary King Papers, SHSW.
15. "Freedom High" surfaces in the SNCC papers for the first time, to my knowledge, in May 1965, in Mary King's minutes of the staff meeting at Gammon Theological Seminary. Mary King Papers, SHSW. Forman uses the term in Black Revolutionaries, 422.
16. It was following the October 1964 staff meeting, Forman recalled in his memoirs, that he felt for the first time, "careful planning and control of SNCC meetings" was an "absolute necessity." There is some contradiction within Forman's account about when he began to perceive a faction working against him. On page 419, he puts it following the Gammon conference in Oct. 1964. On page 433, he puts it between his return from Atlanta and the Waveland conference. On page 436, he says it is immediately after Waveland. The matter is relevant because at whatever point he began to feel a faction was being organized against him, he responded in a way that fundamentally changed the organization. His opening speech at Waveland represented a departure from usual SNCC practice, but became more common in subsequent years.
17. Individuals within SNCC continued to pioneer new democratic forms. But the organization had reached its limit.
18. Interestingly, Joseph Ellis has recently argued that such daily shared experiences was a major factor holding the generation of "founding brothers" together through the war of independence and the creation of permanent federal institutions. Ellis, Founding Brothers, (NY: Knopf, 2000), 7.
19. Ella Baker, quoted in Payne, I've Got the Light of Freedom, 367; Forman, Black Revolutionaries, 412. The number of references to "middle-class" SNCC workers as part of the problem in this crucial section of Forman's history of SNCC is staggering. The analytical weight Forman puts to bear on class as an explanation for people's actions indicates that we as a culture need more precise terms of description to explain why people do the things they do in addition to whatever class they come from or reside within. Certainly more precise terms of description would elucidate in finer detail the complex reasons why the staff began to fracture at this point. Class orientation simply cannot account for the entirely of the reasons why they began to split. For instance, Moses, Sherrod, and Hayden were all from families without great means. Furthermore, they did not adhere to middle-class lifestyles or values. Forman, Black Revolutionaries, 413, 414, 418, 419, 425, 431, 434, 435, 437, 440, 444; Sellers, River of No Return, 133.
20. Dorie Ladner and Mike Thelwell, 9 Nov. 1964, page 26, Frame 951, Reel 11, SNCC Papers; Jimmy Bolton to Personnel Committee, 9 March 1965, frame 689, reel 1, SNCC Papers.
21. Marion Barry, "What is SNCC," position paper prepared for Waveland [Nov. 1964], Mary King Papers, SHSW.
22. This was the role Forman had been carrying out during the previous four years. Forman suggested that the Executive Secretary appoint at least seven people to report to him in carrying out the administrative duties: an administrative assistant, a Program Secretary, someone to run the Jackson office, a Northern Coordinator, Southern Campus Coordinator, a Director of Communications, and a Research Director. James Forman, "Memorandum on the Structure of the Student Nonviolence Coordinating Committee," submitted to staff at Waveland [Nov. 1964], Mary King Papers, SHSW. Forman, Black Revolutionaries, 435-437. See also, James Forman, "Text of Speech delivered at the staff retreat of the SNCC at Waveland..." and James Forman, "What is the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee: A Band of Brothers, A Circle of Trust," prepared for the SNCC staff retreat of Nov. 1964..." in Mary King Papers, SHSW.
23. The two groups differed in their decentralized structure. See Appendix. A decentralized structure would later be suggested by Greg Calvert within SDS. Indeed, Charles Payne argues that such a structure was favored by Ella Baker: "She envisioned small groups of people working together," Charles Payne wrote, "but also retaining contact in some form with other such groups, so that coordinated action would be possible whenever large numbers were really necessary. I know of no place where she fully explains her thinking, but, given her values, it is almost certain that she would have been put off by the undemocratic tendencies of larger organizations as well as by their usual failure to provide the kind of environment that encouraged individual growth. I suspect that she also favored smaller organizations precisely because they were less likely to factionalize or develop climates of distrust." (Payne, I've Got the Light of Freedom, 369). Baker's position on structure, however, is made a bit more obscure by her remarks at a Personnel Committee Meeting in May, 1964, where SNCC people were discussing a wide range of the organization's structural problems. Baker noted that "Some jobs are more specific, i.e., well run offices, fund raising, bookkeeping, etc. [SNCC people] have been running away from structure, established procedure." Ella Baker, Frame 480, Reel 12, SNCC Papers. On Waveland, "Group 5, Francis Mitchell chairman," n.d. [Nov. 1964], Mary King Papers, SHSW; Mitchell, "Minutes," 10 Nov. 1964, page 32-35, Frames 954-955, Reel 11, SNCC Papers.
24. Casey Hayden, "Memorandum on structure," n.d. [Nov. 1964], Casey Hayden Papers; Casey Hayden, "Fields of Blue," 361-364; Hayden, personal interview.
25. For some time, Cason felt that the people who were booing her wanted a strong leader, and reacted to her as a white woman, rather than to her idea. Later on, she felt the explanation was more complex than race and gender. This is one moment where it would be important to determine exactly at what point Forman began to organize against what he perceived to be a faction organizing against him within SNCC. If it was prior to the Waveland meeting, then this might have been part of the reason why Hayden's ideas were dismissed. But certainly at Waveland, when Forman stated: "I want to deal with the idea in Casey's mind of where power in the organization resides..." (p. 36) he had recognized the differences between his own and Hayden's approach. Frame 955-956, Reel 11, SNCC Papers.
26. It was not until three months later, at the February 1965 staff meeting, that the decentralized structure was "not being 'no structure' but different structure," Mary King's notes indicate. But it was here to that many of those felt that hierarchical structure was a "hard line" position, "with all its phallic appeal and connotations," recalled Emmie Schrader Adams. Feb. 1965 Atlanta SNCC Meeting, transcription of M. King notes, Mary King Papers, SHSW; Emmie Schrader Adams, "From Africa to Mississippi," Deep in Our Hearts, 327. Casey Hayden, "Fields of Blue," 363. Forman referred to weak versus strong structures in Black Revolutionaries, 424. One of the more interesting examples today of this structure of a horizontal network of projects with a coordinating center is the Frente Autentico del Trabajo union in Mexico. See Dale Hathaway, Allies Across the Border: Mexico's "Authentic Labor Front" and Global Solidarity (Boston: South End, 2000).
27. "Minutes," 12 Nov. 1964, pp. 35-39, Frame 956-957, Reel 11, SNCC Papers; "Summary of Staff Retreat Minutes," [Nov. 1964], page 4, Frame 718, Reel 12, SNCC Papers.
28. The Planning Committee Meeting for the next staff meeting (Feb. 1965) was held in Pine Bluff, Ark. People disagreed about what had actually been decided or not decided at Waveland. See, for example, Mary King's response to John Lewis's memo to staff over "alleged coup" in SNCC, and "red-baiting of SNCC": John Lewis to All SNCC Staff, n.d. [winter 1964-65], Frame 23, Reel 2, SNCC Papers; Mary King to John Lewis, 10 Jan. 1965, Frame 650, Reel 1, SNCC Papers. "Minutes" 12 Nov. 1964, p.39, Frame 957, Reel 11, SNCC Papers.
29. The next full staff meeting was in February, 1965, in Atlanta. Sections of these minutes are in the Mary King Papers. The structure discussion continued at the February meeting. It is unclear to me if or when a structure was actually decided upon, or if the designs presented at Waveland ever received a vote. "Summary of Staff Retreat Minutes," [1964], frame 716, Reel 12, SNCC Papers; Sellers, River of No Return, 131; Carson, In Struggle, 149. Muriel Tillinghast reported that "people knew how to manipulate the organ. I mean Forman used to manipulate SNCC to beat the [inaudible] who used to cuss Forman out, because if he wanted to get a vote through, he knew exactly who to pinhole, how long to hold them in the meeting and when to bring the vote up and usually votes were around 2 a.m. and everyone would be stoned asleep." Muriel Tillinghast, interview with Clay Carson, 6 Nov. 1976, courtesy of Clayborne Carson.
30. The one significant exception to the inertia subsequently characterizing SNCC's organizing was their activity in Alabama during 1965-1966, where a voter registration drive resulted in the formation of the Lowndes County Freedom Party infamously symbolized by a black panther. SNCC entered Lowndes County - whose adult population was 82% African American - in February, 1965. Stokely Carmichael led the effort. On Lowndes County, see Hasan Jeffries, "Standing Up For Freedom: the Civil Rights Movement in Lowndes County, Alabama," (Ph.D. diss., Duke University, 2002). John Hullet and Stokely Carmichael, The Black Panther Party: Speech by John Hullet, Interview with Stokely Carmichael, Report from Lowndes County (NY: Merit Publishers, 1966); Jack Minnis, Lowndes County Freedom Organization; the Story of the Development of an Independent Political movement on the County Level (Louisville: Southern Conference Educational Fund, 1967); Lowndes County Freedom movement: the Rise of the Black Panthers, Films for the Humanities and Sciences, 25 min., Princeton, NJ: 1995, videocassette; "The Time Has Come (1964-66)," Eyes on the Prize: America's Civil Rights Years 1954 to 1965, produced and directed by James DeVinney and Madison Davis Lacy, Jr., 60 min., Pacific Arts, 1992, videocassette. The MFDP also spun off organizations to work on issues including welfare distribution, low-income housing, and education. Evidence of their activities can be found in the SNCC and MFDP Papers, WATS line reports, Frames 520-on, Reel 14, SNCC Papers. Marion Barry, "Minutes," 9 Nov. 1964, page 26, SNCC Papers, Reel 11, Frame 951; Charles Sherrod, "From Sherrod," [Nov. 1964], Stewart Ewen Papers, SHSW; "Minutes," 12 Nov. 1964, SNCC Papers, microfilm, Reel 11, Frame 955. The issue of different values and priorities between SNCC staff and MFDP organizations emerges throughout the SNCC minutes. See, for example, Ed [Brown], "Transcription of MEK Notes, Feb '65 Atlanta SNCC Meeting [historic]," Mary King Papers, SHSW.
31. On SNCC's intellectual contributions to the Black Cultural movement, see Carson, In Struggle, chapters 11, 13, and 14. For an account of the loss of the organizing tradition that is stunning for its clarity and poignancy, see Payne, I've Got the Light of Freedom, chapter 13.
The fact that an oppressor nation could judge the creations of the people they oppress is not strange but "natural" in the context of the relationship between ruler and ruled. Just as the slave was part of the "Means of Production", (and when feudal slavery changed to capitalist slavery) variable capital, so whatever was produced by the slaves was, by definition, part of what the owner of the slave owned
As "art", the music was useful as entertainment, social control, pedagogy, as commerce. "Black Tom" the amazing 19th century slave pianist, who knew 10,000 pieces of music and became a touring novelty, known throughout the South, even during slavery, is said to have "made" a million dollars for his owners!
In contrast, there were thousands of slave "entertainers" confined to a single plantation. At first despised in a utilitarian way, but ironically, as democracy made its tortured way toward the Afro American their cultural product was more and more co-opted, commercialized and, nowadays, even claimed.
To read Lincoln Collier or Richard Sudhalter, and their bizarre ubermenschlichkeit is to be annoyed with a tinge of melancholy that our oppressors are, to quote poet, Robert Creeley, such "unsure egotists". Like a poem I wrote, MTV: "We can have your life, without being poor, &c"
The New Orleans Rhythm Kings, after the first years of the music's emergence, claimed that the Black musicians were white. The context of a white racist superstructure, i.e., institutions, organizations, and the curricula, ideas and philosophies those are meant to maintain and forward. They are a reflection of the Monopoly Capitalist imperialist economic base, almost completely defining, "evaluating", advancing dubious or ingenuously chauvinist theories, explanations, about Black Music (at this point through writing, other media, reaching incredible proportions). Each year floods of such mainly superficial materials (from books, TV and radio series, even calendars, t-shirts, post cards) defining and classifying Black Music are produced.
It is this superstructure with its various critics, scholars, journalists that have even succeeded in naming Afro-American Music, "Rag Time", "Jass & Jazz" (in their musical and non-musical definition), "Swing", "BeBop", "Rock & Roll", all coined as media- driven generic titles, by this collection entity. Since the creators of the music did not have the same access to publishing, writing &c
Max Roach tells how Duke Ellington first told him that when we accept and forward this essential commercial nomenclature, foisted on the music by others, same presence can then identify any thing commerce want as that.
So that Paul Whiteman became "The King of Jazz", Benny Goodman, "The King of Swing", The Rolling Stones, "The Greatest Rock & Roll Band in The World". Then dig the grand larcenous essence of commercial Copperheads inducting Black Musicians into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame when, Naw, Jimmy them dudes was playing Rhythm and Blues, BEFORE THERE WAS A ROCK OR A ROLL!
There is not general commercial label for the works of Bach, Brahms, Beethoven, &c. That music is called, more precisely, "The Music of Ludwig Beethoven". "The Music of Bela Bartok", then why not, says Roach, "The Music of Duke Ellington", "The Music of Thelonius Monk", &c. But then that would confer a station and dignity to The Music the racist superstructure has never wanted to allow.
To this day, there is not a single Afro American writer heading up the Jazz Section of a major newspaper! (Imagine there were only Afro American or other non-white writers who entirely monopolized writing about European Concert music!) During the hot sixties there were black writers about the music on the Village Voice, Philadelphia Inquirer, Washington Post, but dig this, when the hot times passed, the most fortunate of these were made sports writers! Get to that! (Now what that mean, Jimmy?) Stanley Crouch was the last surviving name by-lining writing about the music. And I told him at a forum at the Village Gate, that the VV was going to sic him off in another direction, e.g., politics, novels, the former which he is completely off-the-wall, the latter ...well, ax his boys, Bellow or Updike! I told Stanley, Gary Giddins was going to get that main VV gig. And while the editorial Iblis is working his number Stanley has still not put out a single book on the music, though he is more knowledgeable about the straight up history of American Classical Music than most of the chosen at the Times, Voice, &c Why? (A good question bu...oy!) Is it, in this case, because Stanley could say some heavy stuff that perhaps dem udder guise wdnt dig? It seems Die Ubermenschen hate for the darkies to sound knowledgeable about anything, even their own lives. But tell me this glaring ugliness of arbitrary (racial?) exclusion from access to professional position in a subject which must bear some relationship to Afro-America is not dagger-sharp proof of the continuing national oppression of the Afro-American people, right now!
The ownership relationship of Big America to The Music has meant denigration, marginalization, "covers" and dismissal. While European concert music is produced in major US concert halls, theaters, played by permanent resident orchestras in cities across the country, while the authentic Classical Music of the US has historically been marginalized, performed in the worst venues available. The conductor of the New York Philharmonic is paid 1.5 Million dollars a year. This music is called "Legit", i.e. "Legitimate", historically Afro-American music, by inference, is "Illegitimate". In the NY Times and NJ Star Ledger, there is a category called "Music", another called "Jazz"!
What is even more disingenuous, as it is dishonest, is that within the last decade or so, there has been a distinct movement issuing crab-like across the chauvinist US superstructure to systematically distort the history & development of The Music, but also its class origins in the marginalization of this, only recently recognized by Congress "American National Treasure". One main distortion made essentially by positing a simultaneous development in the white and black communities. Obviously chauvinist commentators, like Sudhalter, Collier, sickening with their disinformational denigration of Black creativity, seek to construct, at the same time, a completely ersatz meta-history for its actual evolution.
Collier's idiotic and bluntly racist attacks on Duke Ellington, claiming, as the New Orleans Rhythm Kings, that Ellington's music is just an imitation of European concert music, flies in the face of astute European commentators like Ernest Ansermet, Ravel, Stravinsky, Horowitz. Likewise, the testimonials of even American popular artists like Bix Beiderbecke, Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, &c.
Obscenities like Colliers racism confirm and pipsqueaks some continued legitimization of the general historic American chauvinism toward Black Music, including an earlier travesty such as The American Pulitzer Prize committees refusal to award Duke Ellington that prize in 1967, even though their own group of judges named Duke to receive the Pulitzer! The bitter absurdity of all this white supremacy is that Afro American music is in its total possession by the American people, American Classical Music!
People like George Gershwin, who literally learned at the feet and elbows of Willie "The Lion" Smith, James P. Johnson and Fats Waller could be named Great Composers and live sumptuously, while his teachers always struggled for recognition even survival! Gershwin's internationally acclaimed masterpiece "Rhapsody in Blue" is clearly a skillful recombining of essential elements of James P.'s "Yamekraw Rhapsody", orchestrated by William Grant Still, performed at Carnegie Hall 1927, with Fats Waller as soloist,
Johnson, himself, was an awesome composer of extended works, at least two symphonies - "Harlem Symphony", 34, "Symphony in Brown", 35 - operas - one of which, "The Organizer", 1940 (with Libretto by Langston Hughes) was performed (like "Yamekraw") exactly Once, at Carnegie Hall! Duke's extended work, "Jump for Joy" (performed, to my knowledge, about the same number of times). While Gershwin's estimable "adaptation" of these composers works, is given grand presence as an American Classic! Or consider for a split second, in contrast to any of the great Afro-American composers the awesome tribute and major repertory status given to Gershwin's "Porgy and Bess", a work derived directly from and shaped by Afro-American life and culture.
The arrogant cultural and musical "autonomy" American critics bestowed upon Gershwin and the work was so aggressively and subjectively chauvinist that it even caused Ellington, usually a consummate diplomat about these things, to express his irritation openly at such haughty white nationalism.
Yet, to be bluntly precise, just as the history of European "Classical" music would not be essentially changed by the exclusion of the many non-European artists who have contributed to it, by the same measure Afro-American music, which is the Soul of what must be regarded as American Classical music, would not be changed if not a single white artist's contributions were included. And, face it, this analysis is not black chauvinism, but like they say, hard fact!
One important development and change in the US since my earlier article, is that where I saw, as principal, the contradictory relationship between Black Music, its creators, on one hand and The White Critical establishment on the other, today it should be more and more obvious that that contradiction, still, at times, antagonistic, is, at base, the contradiction of class and class "stance", distance and alienation, which exist generally in bourgeois society and are no less clearly perceivable in the context of this relationship between "critic" and creator. Even though this contradiction is still most obviously visible as "Black Vs White"
That it, there has been, since the late 50s, a very visible and impacting increase in the size and influence of the Black petty-bourgeois (middle class). This has been caused directly by the political-social upsurge of the period, of the Civil Rights-Black Liberation Movement or more precisely what substantive changes occurred because of the interlocking force of the twined Afro American national movements for Democracy and Self-Determination, one aspect loosely labeled "integrationist", the other, "separatist". (The essentially anti-imperialist anti-war movement should also be factored into this analysis.)
Ironically, but predictable scientifically, this development has created a much larger "gap" between the burgeoning, but still mustard-seed sized, recently emerging Black petty bourgeoisie and the great majority of Afro-Americans with considerably more distance between the black majority and the so called "neo-con" (neo-conservative) Negroes, now hoisted into profitable visibility with attendant official "Hoorahs" as a fallacious display of American "democracy".
This has meant that more and more we see "well placed" Negroes co-signing the most backward ideas of the US rulers. The most bizarre for instances, the "three blind mice" The Colon, The Skeeza and Tom Ass, at the top of Bush-2's junta. They have been made seemingly ubiquitous by the power of relentless duplicity. At American Express, Newsweek, across the media, as film stars, &c.
In the field of Jazz commentary, we have Stanley Crouch, Albert Murray, who have taken up many of the reactionary, even white-chauvinist, ideas of the racist U.S. superstructure and its critical establishment. A few years ago, at a Midwestern seminar headed by Dave Baker, Crouch, in a discussion on intellectual contributions to The Music, and in response to this writers statement that it should be obvious that it has been Black people who have contributed the fundamental and essential intellectual innovations to the music, spontaneously ejaculated, that "Black people have not contributed ..." Breaking the statement off in mid ugly, apparently shocking even himself, at the ignorance of his intended comment. Especially, I would imagine, in the face of several scowling "Bloods", most, prominent musicians, including Muhal Abrams, who commented immediately on the tail of my repeated requests for Stanley to finish his thought!
Crouch also wrote more recently in the New York Times, that Black musicians didn't like George Gershwin because he was a better composer than all of them (except Duke). It should be clear to most folks with any clarity that both statements are false and reek of the national (racial) foolishness that characterizes white supremacy. And this from a "Negro" (as Crouch, with objective accuracy, prefers to be called)!
What it means is that the creators and artist-guardians of American Classical music must create, as part of a revolutionary democratic movement, an alternative superstructure - institutions, organizations, venues, critical journals - in order to rescue the history, socio-economic productiveness and potential and even its artistic strength and free them and themselves from dependence on the socially exploitative and artistically diluting mechanisms of corporate commercialism and its attendant racism.
There is a howling need for more independent journals, performance circuits, educational institutions, whose form and content relate directly to the artists, the history, the socio-economic and political needs of the masses of Afro-American people and to the whole of the US majority itself.
The title "Ken Burns Jazz" is disheartening up front. Whether there is an apostrophe or not! It's always gratifying to see tapes and cuts of the musicians and hear some of the music. But it is maddening in the extreme not to hear them speak for themselves! For all the petty jealously that Wynton Marsalis elicits behind his Lincoln Center visibility, even from otherwise knowledgeable people, Wynton was the single saving element to the series. Without him it would have consisted of almost random images and largely superficial injections by Burns' obligatory clutch of "ultimate" critics, "scholars", "Gee Whiz"-ologists and now a smaller group of Negro autodidacts, Crouch, the most prominent, but also a Negro "Gee Whiz"-ologist, Gerald Early, who was an embarrassing tourist of very limited relevance to any serious discussion!
At one point, Crouch referred to the musicians in Ellington's great orchestra as "knuckleheads"! You mean Hodges, Gonsalves, Webster, Carney, Tizol, Cootie, Tricky Sam, Blanton, Strayhorn...&c.? What kind of thoughtful analysis could come from such contempt? But such is one of the seamier products of the vaunted "social equality" of the fake "post- civil rights era". But in addition to this direct class-deformed commentary, a more subtly obvious ignorance and dismissal characterized the series as "white critic, black musician apartheid".
From the top, Burns said he knew nothing about the music! Then how did he get to do a series? I wonder if the producers would allow some similarly self-described "Non" to do such a series on European classical music? Please!
But this similar "Gee Whiz!", essentially non-intellectual, attitude and method has always been allowed in what passes as serious commentary on the music because of the predominance of Afro- American artists. It is a ruthless paternalism!
This is one reason I support Marsalis' work of, to some extent, archiving the music at Lincoln Center. By re-presenting the music's classics in repertory, a consolidating stability and status is accorded to it, not seen before. Just as Lincoln Center does its annual "Mostly Mozart", we should be gratified to see something like a "Mostly Monk" repertory established. Even if Marsalis orchestra is sometimes not fully up to the task of say, reincarnating Duke Ellington. (But could Bernstein improvise like Herr Beethoven?)
The essence of Burns' piece is the implied ideological dictum that the collective "brain trust" Burns gathered, largely white, mainly "un-hip", is the paradigm for the intellectual source for any lasting analysis and measure of this music and that is the deepest content of its vulgar chauvinist presumptions.
This accounts for the general absence of any impressive philosophical analysis of the music itself and except for Marsalis, scant discussion of its changing genres as music as art or social expression! What the music means, at a given period, as aesthetic, social and philosophical expression. Why it moved from one genre or style to another. Why the abiding classical elements of its constantly reconfigured continuum?
Often specific musicians were characterized by raconteurish gossip or clichéd retellings of flaws in their personal lives. Sidney Bechet described as "a thug". The drawn out docudrama of Birds drug addiction, likewise Billie Holiday, without a similar depth of musical, aesthetic and philosophical analysis of their music. Nor was there a historical overview of these constantly developing factors intrinsic to the music. Serious interviews with a representative group of the great musicians still around would have offered a much more profound composite plus intellectual and social access to this still unplumbed cultural treasure chest of American culture and art. Far from opposing the interviews of critics, scholars, writers, club owners, the greater and more informed presence of the artists themselves (not just contemporarily but from existing archives) would have provided a much more incisive, scholarly and entertaining document to inform the ages.
Before saying "Later!", I would add that like Fred Douglass, after he whipped on the "white church" in his majestic "Fourth of July" speech and so had to make some slight qualification, if my analysis of "white critics" seems inaccurately sweeping, I should point out that at root it is aimed at "the establishment" of what passes and has passed, for over a century, as "Jazz Criticism."
I say this because of some of the young critics I met when I first came to New York - Dick Hadlock (whom I worked for at The Record Changer), the always penetrating, Martin Williams (though we had a running argument about whether Billie Holiday sang the Blues or not), others like Larry Gushee, Dan Morgenstern (once he began to dig that the music did not stop after Duke Ellington, if he ever really believed that), my man, John Sinclair, the mixed up Frank Kofsky, I have always had respect for, whether we totally agreed or not.
Still other "white critics" like the great Sidney Finklestein was an immense contributor to what storehouse of scientific discourse there is about this music. I could add the redoubtable Stanley Dance, Ellington's shadow, not a deep thinker, (but European analysis of the music for a long time was always more objective and scientific) the anthropologist Herskovits. There were even some dudes we will always jump on we learned something from, (I won't even mention Nat Hentoff till he returns from the land of national-liberal crypto chauvinist social-hypocrisy). Suffice it to say, there is That and there is Them. I know the difference.
But just to add some reminder of the kind of stilted hollowness most commentary on the music resembles, recently there was an article in the New Jersey Star Ledger, some of us call The Star Liar, by writer George Kanzler. (How are you spelling that?) In claiming to list the musicians coming out of and associated with Newark and environs, he left out the following:.
** SALOME BEY, Lead Singer with Andy (Bey) & The Bey Sisters, Jackie Bland, Leader of the legendary teenage bebop orchestra out of which came Wayne Shorter, Grachan Moncur 111, Harold Van Pelt , Hugh Brodey, Walter Davis, "Humphrey" the Be Boppers Be Bopper, Blakeys Pianist for years; EDDIE GLADDEN, Dexter Gordons regular drummer; VICTOR JONES, Getz regular drummer, the last years; Harold Mitchell, who played with Willie The Lion, Basie, Lionel Hamptaon, Gillespies Big Band, NAT PHIPPS, Leader of the other wonderful 50s teenage orchestra, which featured Nat & Billy Phipps, Moncur 111, Ed Station , Wayne and (& Allen) Shorter, L,ightsey:, Danny Quebec, one of the earliest Bop saxists, also with Babs Gonzalez , Tadd Dameron, JJ Johnson in Babs classic 3 BIPS & A BOP; Lawrence Killian, long time hand drum master; SCOTT LAFARO, Ornette Coleman bassist, LaRue, an unsung master piano teacher to Newark musicians, ask Moncur, Gladden, Morgan, &c : Freddie Roach, one of Newarks organ funk-masters, along with Larry Young &c; CHRIS WHITE, one of Cecil Taylors early stalwarts
Also absent: The entire Newark Phipps Family, Harold, Ernie, drums, Gene, Nat, pianist, Billy, Gene Jr., the rest well known saxophonists, Robert Banks, piano, Herbie Morgan, Tenor & reeds, Jimmy Anderson, tenor, Ed Lightsey, bass: Bradford Hays, tenor, Steve Colson, piano, Ronnell Bey, vocal, Chink Wing, drums, Chops Jones, Bass, Rudy Walker, Drums, Pancho Diggs, Orch leader, piano, Rasheema, vocal, Eddie Crawford, drums, piano, Orch leader, Santi DiBriano, drums, Pat Tandy, vocal, Charyn Moffett, trumpet, Hugh Brodey, saxophone, Eli Yamin, Piano, Gloria Coleman, vocal, Bernie James, sax, Art Williams, bass, club owner, "The Cellar"; Shad Royful, Orch leader, piano, Harold Van Pelt, Tenor, Geri Allen, Piano, Wilber Morris, bass, Connie Pitts Speed, piano, vocal, Gene Goldston, vocal, Everett Laws, vocals, Warren Smith, drums.
Long Time Area Residents: RAY BROWN, DIZZY GILLESPIE , DONALD BYRD
Recent Residents: David Murray, tenor; Reggie Workman, bass; Oliver Lake, alto, reeds; Andrew Cyrille, drums; Steve Turre, trombone. So thirty years later....you dig?
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