Movements in a new America

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The voting booth is often touted as the way that Americans can change their society — the site where democracy plays out in its purest form. But we live in an era where electoral politics has been diluted, its power leeched into the hands of pollsters and lobbyists. So where does this leave democracy? If one vote per citizen is not enough to overcome the influence wielded by corporations and the wealthy elite, then where should we look to find the new face of political engagement?

When our democratic institutions fail us, when citizens lose their ability to speak and be heard, Americans organize. Political and civic associations form a kind of test kitchen for democracy. It is here that we serve up new and classic combinations of citizen participation. The debate within these groups over organizing tactics is not just a matter of touchy-feely outreach and political correctness. It is a struggle over the very nature of democracy.

In this special issue of InTheFray Magazine, we take a look at this process in action. How do today’s social movements organize themselves? In what ways are organizers dealing with the fragmentation of American society — its separation into bickering identity groups, its division into silos of single-issue organizations toiling in isolation? Has this generation of activists come up with innovative ways to bond communities and bridge their divides?

This month, we begin with a series of four articles. In “The new ‘crisis’ of democracy,” we speak with the legendary thinker and activist Noam Chomsky about the recent, encouraging signs of political protest around the world, and the barriers and backlash that continue to stand in the way of real change. In “The end of old-school organizing,” Victor Tan Chen looks at United for a Fair Economy, a Boston-based economic justice group that has staked its success upon reaching out to communities of color, winning over sympathetic wealthy elites, and bringing the white working class back to progressive politics — a tall order for even the most visionary of activists. In “Elisabeth Leonard, Raging Granny,” Henry Belanger profiles a veteran peace and justice activist whose life story shows us how much — and how little — the struggles against oppression have changed over the years. And in “World Trade Barricade,” Dustin Ross and Victor Tan Chen offer us a glimpse of last month’s protests in Cancún, where thousands of farmers and anarchists and environmentalists from around the globe converged to demonstrate against the World Trade Organization and its alleged bias in favor of "free-trade fundamentalism."

In November, we’ll follow up with two more updates to our Special Issue. The stories to come include:

  • A list of the Top 10 social justice organizations in the country — compiled by the editors with the help of activists across the country — and a chance for readers to choose their own favorite activists and groups.
  • Maureen Farrell’s profile of the Catholic Worker, a group that since the days of its legendary co-founder, Dorothy Day, has striven to “obliterate” the distinctions that separate the poor from everyone else.
  • Tamam Mango’s look at Palestinian Media Watch, a media advocacy group that is organizing individuals across geographic lines in a decentralized, democratic fashion.
  • Victor Tan Chen’s analysis of the global justice movement, which shut down Seattle in 1999, helped derail trade talks in Cancún last month, and is mobilizing for another huge protest next month in Miami.
  • An interview with renowned Indian environmentalist Vandana Shiva, author of Stolen Harvest: The Hijacking of the Global Food Supply and founder of Navdanya, a movement for agricultural diversity and farmers' rights.

Ben Helphand
Projects Editor, InTheFray Magazine
Chicago

p.s. You’ll notice a new look and feel to the magazine. Our redesigned site offers a range of new features, including a regularly updated blog (the reincarnation of our old “Pulse” department), the ability to post comments directly after articles, personalized user identities, automated printing and emailing of our online content, and a better-integrated Readers' Forum. We ask for your patience in the coming weeks as we work out the remaining bugs on the new site. Please send any feedback to webmaster-at-inthefray-dot-org.

STORY INDEX

TOPICS > SOCIAL MOVEMENTS >

“The Other Superpower”
By Jonathan Schell. Published in The Nation. March 27, 2003.
URL: http://www.thenation.com/doc.mhtml?i=20030414&s=schell

“The Second Superpower”
Explanation of the term “second superpower,” and its recent use by The New York Times. From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.
URL: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Second_Superpower

 

The new ‘crisis’ of democracy (complete transcript)

The world today is witnessing an unprecedented level of popular protest — but watch out, the Empire is striking back. A conversation with Noam Chomsky.

The New York Times Book Review has called him “arguably the most important intellectual alive today,” and the “foremost gadfly of our national conscience.” He is one of the ten most quoted sources in the humanities — just one notch below Freud on a list that includes Marx, Shakespeare, and the Bible. A giant in the field of linguistics, a prolific and uncompromising critic of American foreign policy, a radical activist for social justice — Noam Chomsky has managed to cram several lifetimes of intellectual and political labor in the span of his seventy-four years. He has also stirred several lifetimes’ worth of controversy: His political opponents have denounced him as a ringleader in the “blame America first” crowd, or a “self-hating Jew” who is dangerously critical of the Israeli state. Even one of the Times reviewers who heaped praise on him went on to call his political writings “maddeningly simple-minded” — a quote that Chomsky himself is fond of citing.

InTheFray Editor Victor Tan Chen met up this month with Professor Chomsky at his MIT office for an hour-long conversation on the state of today’s social movements. The focus of the interview was the recent growth in activism around the world, especially coming out of the massive popular protests against the U.S.-led war on Iraq. But in true Chomskian fashion, the discussion ranged widely — from Brazilian landless workers to sixties activism to free-trade economics to, yes, the elitist agenda of The New York Times.

(This is the complete transcript of the interview. For the highlights, including links, click here.)

Q: What do you think the present state of social movements around the globe is right now?

A: Well, it’s hard to think of a time when there has been anything approaching this level of activism, participation, and, in particular, interaction. That’s something quite new. The kinds of interaction that are reflected at the World Social Forum, for example, or at the international demonstrations at Cancún. There had never been anything like that in the past. The popular movements in the West, at least — the labor movement, the left movements from the nineteenth century — were always talking about internationalism. That’s why every union is called an international. And you have that series of [Communist] Internationals. But they were never anything remotely like internationals. Either unions, or the First and Second and Third Internationals were very localized and narrow.

Q: There wasn’t that kind of communication between national lines.

A: There was some but not much interaction. The unions are where they are: The international connections are very limited, even if they call themselves international. In Europe, there’s some integration, so the First International was a mixture of German, French, English. But, well, as you know, it just broke up. I think Marx destroyed it pretty much by moving the center to America and trying to get rid of it because he didn’t like the French influence. The Second International was substantial, but it was destroyed by the First World War. The Third International was just an agency of the Russian government. It meant nothing. The Fourth International were scattered intellectuals, mostly.

Q: So it was very top-bottom, it seems, very much centralized.

A: Well, the First International — which was the more serious one — broke up over the issue of centralization. I mean, Marx just didn’t wanted to relinquish control. And he didn’t like the French anarchists. There was a lot of Franco-German conflict. The Second International was also pretty much centralized. I mean, there were a lot of interesting people, and it was a huge organization, with huge mass parties. But it didn’t last very long; the others, not anything. These were the early attempts, in the early modern period. But then nothing much came of it. And it’s picked up through the growth of — first of all, through decolonization. Which didn’t mean necessarily throwing out foreign troops. Brazil wasn’t technically colonized, but it still had a kind of quasi-colonial relationship to the Western industrial powers. And of course, India was brutally colonized. But as decolonization and independence began to develop, and the Non-Aligned Movement developed, and the South Commission, and others, you started getting — these were reflections of popular activism throughout the South, which reached enormous proportions.

In Brazil, for example, it’s beyond anything in any Western country. In fact, what just happened in Brazil was historically pretty amazing. It’s the first time that popular movements reached this scale. A number of them: the Workers Party, the unions, the Landless Workers Movement — which played the most interesting role in many ways. They reached a sufficient scale so they could naturally take over political power over enormous odds: the centralization of capital and rich-poor gap and so on … What they can do about it is another question. There were efforts in this direction in the past. Forty years ago they did actually elect a mildly populist president — nothing remotely like Lula [Luis Inacio “Lula” da Silva, president of Brazil], and nothing like the populist Workers Party. But then it was just overthrown quickly by a military coup, organized from Washington and celebrated by American liberals as the greatest thing that ever happened.

Q: So there’s these external dangers that social movements face.

A: Well, that’s changed. There’s not going to be any military coup to overthrow Lula. For one thing, because the population no longer would accept it, either there or here. There’s been enough changes in popular consciousness, both in the South and, by now, in the rich countries, in the North. You couldn’t get away with a military coup now the way you could forty years ago when nobody paid attention. But it’s just almost unimaginable now.

The other, negative side is that they don’t need it now. Because the neoliberal mechanisms of the past thirty years have created conditions which undermine — severely undermine — the threat that democracy could actually function. So international financial markets have a stranglehold over Brazil and other Third World countries thanks to these measures. It’s almost unnecessary to think in terms of military coups. In fact, Lula is being compelled to follow policies more reactionary than the preceding government, the Cardoso government. It’s making it a little bit interesting to watch, and unpleasant to watch. Unless they want to pull out of the international financial system — like they create an independent new bloc of countries that just don’t want to accept these rules — unless they do that, as long as they decide to play by the rules, they have to maintain what’s called their “credibility,” with banks and foreign investors and the IMF and so on. And they have to work harder to do that than a reactionary government does, because the investors are always waiting to pounce on them if there’s any minor move towards social reform in health services or wherever. The result is he’s [Lula] got to go beyond the Cardoso government: raise interest rates higher, so on and so forth. So in a sense, they’re even harsher than the more center-right governments. And that’s coming to a crunch right now for the major players.

The point is, these things have developed in the South, in India and South Africa and other places, and there’s an enormous mobilization in the North that’s never existed before. And furthermore, there is solidarity. So at Cancún, where you were, there’s interaction among people. I mean, in Porto Alegre, when I got off the plane, I didn’t go to the World Social Forum, I went to the Via Campesina meeting — the international peasant movement, workers from all over the place. It’s alongside the World Social Forum, and interacts with it, but not the same. And it’s a powerful movement which could get participation by even Northern farmers who are, at a very different level, facing other, similar problems that are crushing them. The huge mass peasant movements in the world, which is probably more than half of the population of the world, is mirrored in the rich countries. Take a look at the food chain: There’s tremendous profits at both ends. The energy corporations, Cargill and those guys, are doing fine. But if you look at the middle, even rich countries’ farmers, the people who actually produce the food, are being crushed. Not in the sense that peasants get crushed … but the same phenomenon happens, and they have similar interests.

Q: What’s the situation for social movements in the United States right now? Is it favorable right now, the conditions for social movements?

A: The conditions are such that they ought to be able to achieve a lot. The United States is a complicated country. It’s very disorganized. There’s little in the way of political parties, the political system is almost unrelated to popular movements. On the other hand, there’s a tremendous amount of energy and activism, just very disorganized.

I travel a lot, and give talks. And one of the main reasons I go to give talks — and the organizers know it, we agree on this — is that, you know, I’ll go somewhere for a fundraiser or something, and one of the things it does, it just brings together people from that town or city or even region who are working along pretty similar lines, or at least parallel lines, and don’t have much to do with each other. But these events kind of bring them together and contribute to some further integration. This is a very disorganized, scattered country. If you just take Boston. Lots and lots of groups. But they barely know about each other. They’re doing their own thing, here, there, and the other place. I mean, the total level of participation is probably quite substantial. On the other hand, the degree of integration is slight, and the degree of involvement varies. And that means there’s not much in the way of long-term thinking or planning or strategy and so on.

Q: Why do you think there is such fragmentation within social movements within the United States?

A: In other industrial countries, these movements have tended to coalesce around the labor movement or social-democratic political parties or some kinds of ongoing institutions that maintain themselves. The United States does not have those institutions. So if I give a talk in some other industrial country, it’ll often be in a union hall. I almost never give a talk in a union hall [here] — occasionally, but it’s not a phenomenon that exists. Or even if it’s in a town hall, it’s set up by the labor council or labor party activists or something like that.

And that has both a positive side and a negative side. The positive side is that the movements here are not under the control of pretty autocratic, bureaucratized institutions. On the other hand it means there’s no center you can keep coming back to, there are no learning experiences. What was done ten years ago is forgotten because the people who did it are now somewhere else and you have to start over again and learn the same techniques. I mean, there are things you have to know: how do you distribute leaflets, how do you get people organized, how do you talk to people. And there’s just a lot of lore that’s involved in continual activism that gets lost because of the lack of continuing institutions.

In the United States, the one continuing institution is the church. The churches, a lot of the churches. So as a result, just because they exist, and they continue, a lot of the organizing and activism is around churches. I mean, just take Boston. Where do the groups have their offices? Usually in one or another church. But they’re there.

Q: [It’s] an institution to base your movement.

A: Well, there’s something there. There’s a church on Garden Street which will give you an office or something … But that’s unusual in the United States. And it’s also a big country, a very insular country, that doesn’t pay attention to the outside. There’s a tremendous amount of mobility as compared to other industrial countries — people don’t live where they grew up, others come from outside the country, and it means there’s a lack of ties.

And also this is an unusually business-run society. Other industrial countries are also largely business-run, but here it’s extraordinary. It shows up through the whole history. The U.S. has a very violent labor history. The major business-run propaganda institutions, the public relations industry, are in the U.S. or, secondarily, Britain, which is also where they had their major origins as part of the effort to control attitudes and beliefs.

And there’s enormous efforts going into trying to undermine popular organizations. And they are very centralized, and they are continuing, and they have an institutional base, and they have learning experiences — they pick up from last time and so on and so forth. So in terms of institutional structures it’s an extremely unequal battle. On the other hand it’s a pretty dissident population. And there’s plenty to be concerned about. So if you look at people’s attitudes, it looks like it ought to be an organizer’s paradise.

Q: In what sense?

A: For example, I remember on the Bicentennial, in 1976, there were lots of polls about people’s attitudes and all sorts of things. And some of them were pretty striking. One Gallup poll or something asked people, gave people slogans basically. The question was, “Is this in the Constitution?” Of course, nobody had a clue what’s in the Constitution — maybe they looked at it in eighth grade but forgot about it. So when you ask people is this in the Constitution, what you’re really asking them is this such an obvious truth that it must be in the Constitution. One of the questions was, “From each according to his ability, to each according to his need.” Fifty percent of the population thought that’s in the Constitution. Because it’s such an obvious truism. And you look at that, and you think, “Well, what are the organizers doing?” [laughs] Nobody, virtually, hears articulate support to this. Well, that’s what people think.

It’s the same on a lot of issues. Take, say, the Vietnam War. I mean, there was a huge amount of activism on the war, and there’s been a lot of studies of people’s attitudes on it. Because of the indoctrination in the academic world, people don’t go there, they don’t pursue the answers to the questions to find out what they mean, so all you know is the answers. The Chicago Council on Foreign Relations, for example, does regular polls on people’s attitudes towards international affairs every four years. And some of the questions are always about the Vietnam War. And there’s an open question, “What do you think of the Vietnam War?” And there’s maybe ten choices. And the one that’s had an overwhelming majority since 1969 is, “Fundamentally wrong and immoral, not a mistake.”

If you did a poll in the Harvard Faculty Club or editorial offices or something, nobody would say that. Everybody says, “It was a mistake. It was right, but it was a mistake. It was wrong because it cost us too much, but it was a mistake, it was a disaster, it got too costly, we got into a quagmire” — and that sort of thing. Well, apparently, that’s not the popular attitude. Now, what do people mean when they say, “Fundamentally wrong and immoral, not a mistake”? Well, in order to find that out, you have to ask the further questions. But those questions don’t come to the minds of investigators — academic investigators.

And in fact, if you look at their interpretation of it … what they say is, well, this must mean that people didn’t like the casualties. Well, maybe. But that’s not the obvious interpretation. “Fundamentally wrong and immoral” might mean something beyond just too many American casualties. But it’s been built up in the doctrinal system to be something called the “Vietnam Syndrome,” meaning you don’t want to take casualties. Actually, the polls that have been done on that show that that’s not true. Recently, the main polling institution in the country — academic one — the Program on International Policy Attitudes at Maryland — has investigated this, and they consistently show that people don’t think that casualties are a cost they’re unwilling to accept if the cause is just.

And it goes across the board. Seventy-five percent of the population before the last election — there was a Harvard project on this, [Thomas E.] Patterson’s project — they found that before the last [presidential] elections, 75 percent of the population regarded it as a farce. That’s before Florida, before the Supreme Court. In fact, if you look at this whole stolen election business, it’s of great concern among intellectuals, but there’s almost no popular resonance. They don’t care.

And I think the reason is — if you look at the Vanishing Voter Project you can see the reasons: Before the election people weren’t taking it seriously, because it’s just rich people and public relations operations and so on and so forth. If you ask people, “Is the economic system fair?”: overwhelmingly, it’s unfair. Ask people about national health insurance: There’s been very consistent support for it, some of the latest figures are about 75 percent. If it’s being discussed, it’s called “politically impossible” — meaning, the insurance companies won’t accept it. It doesn’t matter if the population would. We could go across the board. These are things that people can organize about.

Q: Why aren’t they organizing? If there’s such a degree of grievances about health care, about the minimum wage, about the lack of a U.N. role in foreign policy, why aren’t the people agitating?

A: Take the U.N. role in foreign policy. In April, before the whole thing started becoming a catastrophe, there was still about two-thirds in favor of the U.N. taking over reconstruction and the U.N. taking the lead — not the United States — in international conflicts. Take, say, Cancún. They ask the questions in skewed ways, but what basically it comes down to is that people are largely opposed — pluralities, or majorities — are opposed to the international economic agreements. But these don’t come up in the political system, and they don’t come up in media debates and so on, because the sectors that have power concentrations, including educated sectors, are almost uniform on the other side. So therefore these things just don’t come up.

At the year 2000 election, for example, the big issue that ought to have been right at the core of it, was the Free Trade Area of the Americas, which was just coming along. Nobody even mentioned it. And the reasons are simple: The population is opposed, the elites favor it. So therefore it isn’t part of the political system. It’s not part of the debate. It’s like national health care. If someone mentions it, it’s “politically impossible.” If it turns out that 75 percent of the population supports it, it doesn’t matter, it’s still politically impossible. Well, that’s the way our system works. But it means that there’s a potential for organizing which is quite substantial.

Q: Can you talk a little about your own background in social movements, the ones you’ve been involved with in the past, and what lessons you can draw from that that could apply today?

A: Well, I was very active and political as a child, as a teenager and so on, but then it was mostly Palestine-related. I was all involved in what was then called Zionist movements — they’d now be called anti-Zionist. And then in the sixties I just kind of joined in with the stuff that was going on. The civil rights movement. I was very active in organizing resistance, to try to organize national tax resistance in the sixties — organizing resistance against the [Vietnam] War. Then just hung out from there.

In the eighties, I was very heavily involved in the solidarity movements in regard to Central America. Which were a real breakthrough. They were what people would call conservative in many respects — the church, the Midwest. But it was the first time in the history of Europe or the United States ever, as far as I know, that large numbers of people from the imperial society went to live with the victims. Very courageously. To help them, to offer some protection because there’s a white face around. And a lot of them stayed. By now they’re all over the world. That’s a real breakthrough, and it’s part of the mood that led to the international solidarity that is now manifesting itself in coordination with these big Southern movements which were around building for some time.

Q: Do you see some continuity to the global justice movement?

A: The global justice movements, yeah. And they sort of grew out of this, in a kind of unplanned fashion, they just developed into these further interactions and developments. People think of the global justice movements as originating in Seattle. But that’s very misleading. They were much more powerful in the South. But they were kind of disregarded. When it hit a Northern city, you can’t disregard it any longer. So then, you know, Seattle, Genoa, Prague, Quebec — that’s visible, you can’t say I don’t see that. But if it’s peasants storming the Indian parliament and getting them to vote down the Uruguay Round — it might make a small note on the back page, even if though it’s a much more powerful movement.

Q: Because of the parochialism of Americans, or Northerners in general?

A: People in the rich countries didn’t care. Take the probably millions of people who have been killed in the Congo in the last two years. Nobody knows. Nobody cares. You can say, well, we’re sending troops to Iraq for humanitarian reasons. Whatever you think of that argument, a fraction of those forces in Eastern Congo would have deterred and maybe stopped huge massacres, way beyond anything there [in Iraq]. Of course, they don’t have oil wealth and are too unimportant to control and so on, so it doesn’t come up.

Probably the biggest international issue in the 1980s, the one that dominated the press more than anything else, was Nicaragua. A large part of the country didn’t know which side we were on. Many people thought the U.S. was supporting the government. Because the U.S. supports governments, and the guerrillas are the bad guys. And a lot of people didn’t know where Nicaragua was. An island somewhere maybe in Africa, or something like that.

There’s a lack of interest and concern about the rest of the world. When people here are asked, for example, about national health insurance. What they’re really asked about is, do you want the Canadian system? Because these people know Canada is there. But if you ask people, do you want the French system, they don’t know what you’re talking about. So these are things that have to be overcome if there’s going to real international solidarity. And the social justice movements have done it for a lot of people. They do reach out to plenty of people now who know a lot about the world. For example, by now there are plenty of people who are getting their information about ongoing events in the world through the Internet. I don’t know what the numbers are, but it’s not insubstantial. Whereas if you went back ten years, the number of people who even knew that the BBC or a foreign newspaper existed was extremely small.

Q: What kind of contribution do you think social movements can give to this distressing picture globally? What can social movements do to change the situation?

A: The bounds are endless. I mean, pick what you like. People are in favor of democratic control, they don’t want to work in corporate tyrannies, they don’t like aggression and massacre, they’d like to have social services.

Just run across the board. Every one of those things is a possibility for organizing. And nothing’s graven in stone. These are very fragile systems of control and domination. And the people in them know that — they’re always deeply concerned about any manifestation of popular activism, and react very powerfully to try to crush it. And there’s now pretty good scholarship on this, for the period after the Second World War … One of the results of the anti-fascist war was a growth of strong, kind of radical, democratic sentiment — including in the United States. You were hearing calls for worker takeover of industry, and things that went pretty far-reaching. And it struck a real panic in elite centers. And they organized huge campaigns to try to crush it. I mean, I thought I knew something about it until some of the scholarly work started to come out, and it’s shocking to see the extent and coordination and the concentration on trying to overcome what they called, “the hazard facing industrialists in the rising political power of the masses.”

And through the fifties it kind of calmed things down. Then the sixties came along and everything just blew up. And it had the same reaction. We’re right in the middle of that right now. There’s tremendous fear of a “crisis of democracy” — too much democratization. The right-wing think tanks got organized to try to shift the political spectrum. The spectrum of discussion and debate changed. The educational system changed.

In fact, a lot of the neoliberal programs which come from the early seventies — you can debate what their economic impact is. It’s pretty negative, in my opinion. But it’s debatable at least. However, what’s not debatable is their effect in undermining democracy. Almost every element of them is designed to reduce the arena of popular participation and decision-making. And that runs from free financial flows — as [economist John Maynard] Keynes knew all along — to privatization. So, reducing the arena of popular choice. And you can see it dramatically in places like Brazil. You can see it here, too. The fact that people may care about Social Security and the environment and health care and so on, is just gradually squeezed out of the public arena as much as possible.

Q: And social movements can provide some antidote to that?

A: Well, you can see the fear there is among highly concentrated — and very class conscious — business and elite interests, managerial interests. That’s in business, politics, education, and media. There’s a lot of interaction. There’s high class consciousness, high degree of commitment to preventing another “crisis of democracy” from developing. And the social movements, the only answer they have to that is to have the population on their side.

And the same is true of elections. Take, say, Brazil, which is democratic in a sense that we can barely aspire to at this point. I mean, the concentration of capital that dominates the electoral system is enormous. How are they able to counter it? Well, just by having mass popular movements of pretty poor people who combine and balance, counterbalance, capital concentrations.

We don’t have that here. So here the elections are just bought. If a candidate happens to represent the interests and concerns of maybe even a large majority of the population, he can’t even enter the political system. Because they’re not organized enough to counter the concentration of capital, media, propaganda, and other mechanisms. Well, you know, that all has to be developed.

Q: Do you think that people will, if given a chance, actually organize to change some of these things? Or do people really do crave submission, like [Russian novelist Fyodor] Dostoevsky’s Grand Inquisitor says?

A: You know, Grand Inquisitor is kind of a caricature. I think more to the point is to say what Josh Cohen and Joel Rogers wrote about twenty years ago. It’s not so much people crave submission. It’s just that the individual costs of opposition are reasonably high, and there’s a free-rider effect. Others can profit from the gains if somebody sacrifices themselves. And that makes it a hard choice for people to make that decision. Say you want to become a union organizer. You may have a rotten time of it, but the working people who you succeed in organizing may be better off at the end. But that kind of mechanism tends to dampen participation for an individual.

An individual is making a real choice that may be complicated and — by some measures — difficult. But if you measure the nature of your life by the standard criteria that are imposed on you by the doctrinal system — meaning make a lot of money, live in a nice house, don’t have people yell at you, and get a good job — if those are the criteria of what makes a decent life, then you pay a cost if you decide to become involved in a global justice movement or something else. On the other hand, there’s no reason why we should accept those values. The people who do it, they just have a different concept of what’s a decent life. But it’s drilled into you from childhood. It has a certain logic to it. And it’s easy to submit to it. And those mechanisms, much more than Grand Inquisitor-style subordination, I think are very real.

So I think Cohen and Rogers make a very convincing statement of that. They don’t think, and I don’t think, it necessarily immobilizes people. But it does reveal some of the impediments to participation as long as you subordinate yourself to the values that are imposed on you by massive propaganda systems. And they really are massive. I mean, if you look at the impact of television and commercialization and so on and so forth, it’s just enormous. It has an overwhelming effect, particularly on young people.

Go to part two

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

The new ‘crisis’ of democracy (complete transcript, part two)

The world today is witnessing an unprecedented level of popular protest — but watch out, the Empire is striking back. A conversation with Noam Chomsky.

Go to part one

Q: And that could have led to some of the misconceptions, for instance, about the Iraq War — people believing that the weapons of mass destruction had already been found.

A: Well, there, it’s pretty dramatic. There are cases, and that’s one of them, where you can see the effects of the propaganda showing almost immediately. So like in September 2002, when the propaganda began — the war drums began to beat — within a month, they had a majority of the population believing that Iraq is an imminent threat to the United States. The commitment — belief — that the weapons of mass destruction and connections to 9/11 and so on were there are so high that Bush can just say it, and there’s no reaction.

Like this morning, I was listening to the radio on the way in. The reaction to the Kay Report, was, “Okay, this proves our point.” And he can say it without real fear of contradiction, even though it’s so outlandish. On a radio address a week or two ago, the president’s Saturday radio address, the theme was that the war was justified because we removed a tyrant who was developing weapons of mass destruction, and plotting with international terrorists. Every one of those claims has been totally exploded. The only known connection to terrorism is that the war increased it, exactly as every intelligence agency predicted it was going to do. But the president can say it without fear of contradiction. That’s real propaganda. And it’s very striking because the U.S. is alone in the world on this. There’s no other country in the world where the majority of the population thought that Iraq was a threat to them.

Q: On February 15, you had millions of people around the world, and hundreds of thousands in the United States, protesting the war in Iraq. And yet some people came out of that saying, “Well, I protested, and nothing changed. The foreign policy didn’t change.”

A: You see, that goes back to the earlier discussion, where we were talking about before about institutional permanence and continuity. I mean, in the United States, where there is very little continuity of social movements, and little permanence, and no institutional base, the attitudes that people have are, “We’ll try, we’ll put out a lot of effort for the next couple months, and if it didn’t work, that shows everything’s impossible.” You know, that’s not the way any social movement’s ever worked. I mean, abolitionism, women’s rights, labor rights, anything you take — you have to expect to keep at it day after day. You have partial successes, failures — you pick up and go on. You figure [out] what did you learn last time, how you’re going to do it better next time.

But the idea that you’re going to have some kind of instant gratification, or else it was worthless, is a very typically American idea. And it’s deep in the history, it’s in the nature of the way the country works. There’s a ton of propaganda about it. You’re supposed to look for instant gratification. And if it didn’t work, well, it’s useless. Quit. I remember, for example, at the time of the Columbia strike in 1968, the students were very excited. I had discussions with them, trying to dampen down the enthusiasm. Same with France in ‘68. I, other people, were trying to dampen the enthusiasm. Because the young people involved were very dedicated, very brave, and they really believed that if they sat in for a couple of weeks, or did their thing on the streets of Paris, the whole system was going to collapse. That’s not going to happen, you know? You may make a dent. But you’re not going to achieve long-term institutional changes by sitting in a Columbia president’s office.

And when people failed to achieve the long-term goals, they regarded it as a failure. And right at that point, the massive popular movements here — the young ones — a lot of them went off into very self-destructive directions. Here, the Maoist groups, PL, the Weathermen. “We’ve shown that reform doesn’t work.” You haven’t shown anything. You’ve shown that one demonstration didn’t work — but when did it ever?

And the same is true in February. These were unprecedented protests. Of course they’re not going to stop power systems, and anyone who participated should have understood that. But they might be a barrier to the next step, if you persist with them. But you have to have a realistic understanding of where power lies, how it can adapt to large-scale protests, and where they must go if they want to really change things. This should have been used for ongoing organizing efforts. To say, yeah sure, we didn’t stop the war, we didn’t really expect to, but we want to make it harder for those guys to run the next war. And we want to make sure that we’re going to work to change the system of power which even allows them to make such decisions.

Q: Do you think that movements today are getting better at building bridges across lines of race, class, gender, religion, other lines of identity?

A: There are some that are pretty successful at it. How much that generalizes is really hard to say. Because it’s also quite easy for systems of power and domination to separate people on these issues. Take the Immigrant [Workers Freedom] Ride. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out how to get immigrants and workers to be on opposite sides. Same on international trade issues. I mean, there are real issues involved. If jobs are lost here, they’re going somewhere else. Well, how do you deal with that? The people and peasants in China have to eat too, so you can’t just disregard that question.

It was interesting in NAFTA — NAFTA was kind of narrow enough so that you could actually face the questions concretely. And it was quite interesting to see the debate about NAFTA, to go through it. It’s virtually unknown that the labor movement had a position on that. That was suppressed. I don’t know if you know the background of that, but it’s pretty interesting. You know, there is a Labor Advisory Council, which is the labor union groups, basically. And according to the congressional trade laws, they’re supposed to be consulted on any trade-related issue. But they weren’t even advised that NAFTA was being discussed until about a day before the congressional vote. I think they were given like twenty-four-hours notice.

Well, they did meet, nevertheless, and put together a pretty interesting proposal for a North American Free Trade Agreement — but not this one. It had other devices in it. They pointed out that this one was going to be an investor rights agreement, it’s going to harm working people — but it could be done differently, with compensatory funding, a partially European union model where they brought in Spain and Portugal and Greece, in such a way that it wouldn’t undermine Northern workers’ rights. A lot of ideas spelled out. Well, it was distributed. Never reported. The only mention of it I’ve ever seen is in stuff I wrote in Z Magazine at the time.

Their proposal happened to be almost the same as one done by the OTA, the Office of Technology Assessment, which has since been disbanded, but at that time was the congressional research organization. They did a detailed analysis of NAFTA, which reached pretty much the same conclusions: Namely, NAFTA could be good here, but not this one, because this one was aimed at low-wage, low-growth, high-profit outcomes. And it could be different, it could be done in a way that would lead to higher growth, higher wages, maybe lower profits, and that’s the way it ought to be done. Well, these are not radicals; this is OTA. Their report was never — I don’t think it was ever mentioned.

So here you have the congressional research office, the mass labor movement, giving alternative proposals for NAFTA. If you look at popular opinion, it was mostly opposed to the official version of NAFTA, either in majorities or pluralities depending on how you asked the question. Nothing in the press. I mean, the labor movement was bitterly condemned in the press by the so-called left commentators, like Anthony Lewis. But they were condemned for things they didn’t say. They were condemned for crude nationalism, and all kind of denunciations. No mention of what they actually proposed. And it died. To this day, nobody knows that any of this happened. Well, you know, if there were activist popular movements, they could have broken through on that. And you could have had a very different kind of NAFTA, which maybe would have benefited people instead of harming them.

The same thing happened at the Quebec meetings, at the summit in April 2001, where the top issue was the FTAA, which was going be modeled on NAFTA, and the declarations of the trade ministers and the headlines in the press hailed the great successes of NAFTA. The summit, first of all, never came up in the presidential campaign or election — which was interesting enough, because the issues in it are of major importance to people. They are high priority issues in polls. It never came up. Along comes the Quebec summit. You couldn’t suppress it, because there were massive protests, people breaking down the barricades, and you got to have commentary on them, and there was press commentary. But the commentary was almost entirely, “The model for the FTAA is NAFTA, which was a great success, and now we have to bring it to the hemisphere. And these crazy protesters are trying to undermine the poor, and so on and so forth.”

Well, you know, there were two major studies of NAFTA that were timed for release at the summit. They were on every editor’s desk in the country. One was Human Rights Watch, which is hard to ignore. The other is the Economic Policy Institute, which they all know … The Human Rights Watch report was on the effect of NAFTA on labor rights in the three countries. And it found negative in all three countries: It [NAFTA] harmed labor rights. The EPI report was an interesting and detailed study by specialists on the three countries about the effects of NAFTA on working people. And the conclusions were it was harmful in all three countries, and very harmful in Mexico — and not just on working people, but on businessmen and everyone else.

You know, here’s major studies by well-known organizations, timed for release at the summit, where the issue was the great success of NAFTA and can we extend it to the hemisphere. I had a friend do a database search afterwards. There was one mention of it in a column in a small newspaper in Madison, Wisconsin. That’s a level of discipline — and nobody is giving them orders, nobody is saying don’t report it. It’s just the level of internalized discipline is so enormous, that you don’t mention what was obviously highly topical, very important, but the wrong conclusion. It was redoing the NAFTA story.

Q: So bringing people on the streets can actually insert those issues onto the radar screen?

A: It didn’t. The only thing it did was allow the picture to be created of crazed protesters and odd Hippies and people with funny hats who were trying to harm the poor, because they’re trying to prevent the benefits of NAFTA. But a different kind of organizing could have forced this onto the agenda. And sometimes it works. Like on the Multilateral Agreement on Investments, it did, in fact, work.

Q: What kind of organizing would say would be more effective?

A: It’s got to be something that’s not just directed to a demonstration in Quebec, and then when you fail, you say, “Okay, we gave up.” It has to be day-to-day, ongoing organization. Delegations going to the Boston Globe editorial office and saying we want you to report the result of these reports, and if you don’t, we’re going to leaflet the whole city and say you’re a bunch of this, that, and the other thing. You know, that kind of pressure could work, and could break through. Alternative journalists could have done it. Very few did. Very few even knew about it. Again, you could read it in Z Magazine or probably IndyMedia and stuff like that. But it doesn’t reach people because we don’t have the regular, continuing organizations.

If you go back to an older period — take, say, the period when the Communist Party was alive. And there’s lots and lots of things wrong with the Communist Party, Stalinism and everything else. But it was a very important organization, because it existed, and it was continuing. And you had the same guys coming around to grind the mimeograph machines week after week, even if you lost the last battle. And I remember from my own childhood — my family was mostly unemployed Jewish working class. And they were mostly in and around the Communist Party. They didn’t give a damn about the Stalinist purge or anything else — if they had to nod at the right point, they’d nod at the right point. But they cared about those issues that were being struggled about here. So my aunts were seamstresses working in what amounted to sweatshops, but they got a couple of weeks in the summer at the union summer camp, and they got some protection at work, and some health care. And they had workers’ education. This was elite culture, incidentally. It would be normal to listen to the Budapest String Quartet, or go to performances of Shakespeare plays. And a lot of this was around the periphery of the Communist Party.

The fact that they had terrible attitudes toward Russia and hopeless misunderstanding of what was going on there — some of them at least, not others — was wrong, but irrelevant to most of the participants. And in the civil rights movement, it was a major phenomenon, in the revival of the labor movements in the thirties and so on. There were continuing resources. It wasn’t the whole story — there were lots of other things going on, too. But it was one part of it. You don’t want to reconstitute the old Stalinist Party, obviously. But you want to know what was right about it, as well as what was wrong about it. And what was right about it was things like this.

Q: So there’s a need for organization that the movements of today are lacking, but there’s also a need for democracy that the movements of old were lacking in some ways.

A: You’re looking at completely top-down hierarchies, arranged orders from the Kremlin, and so on. But at the sort of grassroots level, it might have been fairly democratic and participatory. You have to look closely to know. These are hard things to develop. They do require instilling the understanding that if you go to a demonstration and you didn’t win, it doesn’t mean everything’s hopeless, and now we join the Spartacist League or something.

Q: What role does democracy play in social movements today?

A: Unless they are really participatory, they’re not going to have staying power, and shouldn’t. And these are not easy things to develop. Anybody who’s been in any popular movement, whether it’s a group of twenty people or something larger, knows that there are internal tendencies that lead to hierarchy. People’s boredom level varies. There are some who are going to stick it out for hour after hour in meetings, and others who say, “I can’t take this anymore,” and who will end up with the former types being the decision-makers. And it goes from interpersonal things like that, to just the easy tendency to delegate authority and go do something else and let them run it.

Q: And that doesn’t work either, to let people run things.

A: No, then it’s just going to become hierarchical and bureaucratized and dominated, and you’ll end up being a servant again. And that’s true in any kind of organization. It has to be struggled with all the time. I mean, it has to be internalized, it’s part of the understanding of participation in a movement, that this is what it’s going to take.

Q: It has to be this consciousness among people, to make them creative, active citizens in a way, then?

A: It has to be a consciousness, yes. I mean, just as a massive propaganda system, that everyone’s subjected to from infancy, is trying to drive them to become what are called “rational wealth maximizers” — maximize your own wealth, and don’t give a damn about anybody else — there’s huge pressures to turn people into that, and there have to be equally huge pressures, or bigger ones, to bring out other aspects of human concerns and capacities. But it takes work.

Q: The New York Times is talking about the emergence of the “other superpower” to contest American power.

A: They were worried about it. Just like they were worried about the crisis of democracy. That one sentence in The New York Times represented real fear that the world may be getting out of control. And it shows up in other respects, too. Take this whole Old Europe, New Europe business. What was that all about? And in part, it was just the expression of the absolute, passionate hatred of democracy among American elites, which is really remarkable. I mean, the fact that Old Europe is denounced because the governments took the same position as the majority of the population, and New Europe is praised because the governments overrode an even bigger majority of the population — I mean, what that tells you is amazing, as is the fact that there’s no comment on it, that it’s just taken for granted.

But there’s much deeper issues than that. Old Europe is France and Germany. That’s the industrial and commercial and financial heartland of Europe. And the concern over that, reflects an old concern — going back to the Second World War — that Europe was going to strike an independent course. And if it does it’ll be led by its heartland, France and Germany. So when they get out of line, and if they don’t follow orders from Crawford, Texas, it’s really dangerous. Because they might take Europe along with them into an independent course in world affairs. A lot of the concern about China and Japan is the same. Northeast Asia is the most dynamic economic region in the world. Its GDP is much bigger than that of the United States. It’s potentially integrated. It could go in an independent direction.

So it’s not just the second superpower — you know, popular opinion. It’s also the fact that the world has conflicting centers of power. The U.S. happens to dominate militarily, but not in other dimensions. And this is a longstanding concern. Mostly with Europe, throughout the second half of the last century, but you will remember the concerns about Japan in the 1980s — “Japan is No. 1, what’s going to happen to us?” and so on and so forth. The idea of losing control is very frightening, whether it’s control of domestic population, or control of the world system and so on.

And international policies are very heavily geared toward this. Say, taking control of Iraqi oil, or making sure that Caspian Sea pipelines go to the West. A lot of this is based on the concern that Northeast Asia might seek energy independence. Which would mean the loss of a very powerful lever of control. On the other hand, if the U.S. has control over the levers of energy, and makes sure they basically decide what happens to it — that’s a way of blocking more independent development in economic and political and social centers that are on par with, or even greater than, the United States. So all this is being thought about all the time.

Q: When some Americans see the protests around the world against, for instance, the Iraq War, they see that as anti-Americanism.

A: That’s the way it was described.

Q: Do you think that’s a valid concern?

A: The very notion is interesting. The very fact that that notion exists is interesting. Concepts like anti-Americanism only exist in totalitarian states. Suppose people in Italy protest against Berlusconi. Is that called anti-Italianism? In Russia, it was called anti-Sovietism. In Brazil, under the generals, if you protested you were anti-Brazilian. But the only way that concept can exist is if you identify the leadership with the society, the culture, the people, their aspirations, and so on. If you do that, if you accept that deeply totalitarian doctrine, you can have notions like anti-Sovietism, anti-Brazilianism, anti-Americanism, and so on.

So the very existence of the concept reflects a deeply totalitarian streak in American elite thought. I mean, you’d laugh about it if you had a book in Italy called Anti-Italianism, referring to people who protest Berlusconi’s policies. People would just break up in laughter. When you have a book in the United States called Anti-Americanism, by Paul Hollander, referring to people who criticize U.S. policies or something, people don’t laugh, it gets a favorable review in The New York Times.

So you’re right about the concept, but you should think about what it means. The concept reflects the deep-seated conception that you must subordinate yourself to the leadership: If you’re critical of the leadership, even if you think this is the greatest country in the world, you’re anti-American.

Q: What do you think the future of social movements will be, and are you optimistic or pessimistic?

A: I think the tendencies over the last thirty or forty years are pretty hopeful. But it’s really a question of trajectory. I mean, there are very competing trajectories in the world. There’s one towards centralization and militarization and domination. And disaster, because it is facing disaster. There’s another towards increasing concern over human rights, over issues of peace, over — you know, “Is this going to be an environment for our grandchildren to live in?” — and so on. And the question is which of these trajectories dominates.

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

The new ‘crisis’ of democracy

BEST OF INTERACT (runner-up). The world today is witnessing an unprecedented level of popular protest — but watch out, the Empire is striking back. A conversation with Noam Chomsky.

The New York Times Book Review has called him “arguably the most important intellectual alive today,” and the “foremost gadfly of our national conscience.” He is one of the ten most quoted sources in the humanities — just one notch below Freud on a list that includes Marx, Shakespeare, and the Bible. A giant in the field of linguistics, a prolific and uncompromising critic of American foreign policy, a radical activist for social justice — Noam Chomsky has managed to cram several lifetimes of intellectual and political labor in the span of his seventy-four years. He has also stirred several lifetimes’ worth of controversy: His political opponents have denounced him as a ringleader in the “blame America first” crowd, or a “self-hating Jew” who is dangerously critical of the Israeli state. Even one of the Times reviewers who heaped praise on him went on to call his political writings “maddeningly simple-minded” — a quote that Chomsky himself is fond of citing.

InTheFray Editor Victor Tan Chen met up this month with Professor Chomsky at his MIT office for an hour-long conversation on the state of today’s social movements. The focus of the interview was the recent growth in activism around the world, especially coming out of the massive popular protests against the U.S.-led war on Iraq. But in true Chomskian fashion, the discussion ranged widely — from Brazilian landless workers to sixties activism to free-trade economics to, yes, the elitist agenda of The New York Times.

(The text below includes highlights from the interview, as well as links and the Story Index. For the complete transcript, click here.)

Lost in ‘paradise’

Q: What do you think the present state of social movements around the globe is right now?

A: Well, it’s hard to think of a time when there has been anything approaching this level of activism, participation, and, in particular, interaction. That’s something quite new. The kinds of interaction that are reflected at the World Social Forum, for example, or at the international demonstrations at Cancún [against the World Trade Organization]. There had never been anything like that in the past. The popular movements in the West, at least, were always talking about internationalism. That’s why every union is called an international. And you have that series of [Communist] Internationals. But they were never anything remotely like internationals. Either unions or the Internationals were very localized and narrow. [Click here for more on the Communist Internationals.]

In Brazil, for example, it’s beyond anything in any Western country. In fact, what just happened in Brazil was historically pretty amazing. It’s the first time that popular movements reached this scale. A number of them: the Workers Party, the unions, the Landless Workers Movement — which played the most interesting role in many ways. They reached a sufficient scale so they could naturally take over political power over enormous odds: the centralization of capital and rich-poor gap and so on.

What they can do about it is another question. There were efforts in this direction in the past. Forty years ago they did actually elect a mildly populist president — nothing remotely like Lula [Luis Inacio “Lula” da Silva, president of Brazil], and nothing like the populist Workers Party. But then it was just overthrown quickly by a military coup, organized from Washington and celebrated by American liberals as the greatest thing that ever happened.

Q: So there’s these external dangers that social movements face.

A: Well, that’s changed. There’s not going to be any military coup to overthrow Lula. For one thing, because the population no longer would accept it, either there or here. There’s been enough changes in popular consciousness, both in the South and, by now, in the rich countries, in the North.

The other, negative side is that they don’t need it now. Because the neoliberal mechanisms of the past thirty years have created conditions which undermine — severely undermine — the threat that democracy could actually function. So international financial markets have a stranglehold over Brazil and other Third World countries thanks to these measures. It’s almost unnecessary to think in terms of military coups. In fact, Lula is being compelled to follow policies more reactionary than the preceding government, the Cardoso government. [Click here for more on how foreign investors constrain the actions of developing countries like Brazil.]

The point is, these things have developed in the South, in India and South Africa and other places, and there’s an enormous mobilization in the North that’s never existed before. And furthermore, there is solidarity. I went to the Via Campesina meeting [in Porto Alegre this year] — the international peasant movement, workers from all over the place. It’s alongside the World Social Forum, and interacts with it, but not the same. And it’s a powerful movement which could get participation by even Northern farmers who are, at a very different level, facing other, similar problems that are crushing them.

Q: What’s the situation for social movements in the United States right now?

A: The conditions are such that they ought to be able to achieve a lot. The United States is a complicated country. There’s little in the way of political parties, the political system is almost unrelated to popular movements. On the other hand, there’s a tremendous amount of energy and activism, just very disorganized. Just take Boston. Lots and lots of groups. But they barely know about each other. They’re doing their own thing, here, there, and the other place. And that means there’s not much in the way of long-term thinking or planning or strategy and so on.

Q: Why do you think there is such fragmentation within social movements within the United States?

A: In other industrial countries, these movements have tended to coalesce around the labor movement or social-democratic political parties or some kinds of ongoing institutions that maintain themselves. The United States does not have those institutions. And that has both a positive side and a negative side. The positive side is that the movements here are not under the control of pretty autocratic, bureaucratized institutions. On the other hand it means there’s no center you can keep coming back to, there are no learning experiences. What was done ten years ago is forgotten because the people who did it are now somewhere else and you have to start over again and learn the same techniques. [Click here for discussion of the role of U.S. churches in promoting activism.]

It’s also a big country, a very insular country, that doesn’t pay attention to the outside. There’s a tremendous amount of mobility as compared to other industrial countries — people don’t live where they grew up, others come from outside the country, and it means there’s a lack of ties.

And also this is an unusually business-run society. The major business-run propaganda institutions, the public relations industry, are in the U.S. or, secondarily, Britain, which is also where they had their major origins as part of the effort to control attitudes and beliefs. And there’s enormous efforts going into trying to undermine popular organizations. On the other hand it’s a pretty dissident population. And there’s plenty to be concerned about. So if you look at people’s attitudes, it looks like it ought to be an organizer’s paradise.

Q: In what sense?

A: For example, I remember on the Bicentennial, in 1976, there were lots of polls about people’s attitudes. One Gallup poll gave people slogans. The question was, “Is this in the Constitution?” Of course, nobody had a clue what’s in the Constitution — maybe they looked at it in eighth grade but forgot about it. So when you ask people is this in the Constitution, what you’re really asking them is this such an obvious truth that it must be in the Constitution. One of the questions was, “From each according to his ability, to each according to his need.” Fifty percent of the population thought that’s in the Constitution. Because it’s such an obvious truism. And you look at that, and you think, “Well, what are the organizers doing?” [laughs]

It’s the same on a lot of issues. Take, say, the Vietnam War. There was a huge amount of activism on the war, and there’s been a lot of studies of people’s attitudes on it. Because of the indoctrination in the academic world, people don’t go there, they don’t pursue the answers to the questions to find out what they mean. [Click here for more on public attitudes toward the Vietnam War.]

And it goes across the board. [Harvard’s Vanishing Voter Project] found that before the last [presidential] elections, 75 percent of the population regarded it as a farce. That’s before Florida, before the Supreme Court. In fact, if you look at this whole stolen election business, it’s of great concern among intellectuals, but there’s almost no popular resonance. They don’t care.

And I think the reason is — if you look at the Vanishing Voter Project you can see the reasons: Before the election people weren’t taking it seriously, because it’s just rich people and public relations operations and so on and so forth. If you ask people, “Is the economic system fair?”: overwhelmingly, it’s unfair. Ask people about national health insurance: There’s been very consistent support for it, some of the latest figures are about 75 percent. If it’s being discussed, it’s called “politically impossible” — meaning, the insurance companies won’t accept it. It doesn’t matter if the population would. We could go across the board. These are things that people can organize about. [Click here for more on how important issues are kept out of the public arena.]

Democracy as a weapon

Q: Can you talk a little about your own background in social movements, the ones you’ve been involved with in the past, and what lessons you can draw from that that could apply today?

A: Well, I was very active and political as a child, as a teenager and so on, but then it was mostly Palestine-related. I was all involved in what was then called Zionist movements — they’d now be called anti-Zionist. And then in the sixties I just kind of joined in with the stuff that was going on. The civil rights movement. I was very active in organizing resistance, to try to organize national tax resistance in the sixties — organizing resistance against the [Vietnam] War. Then just hung out from there.

In the eighties, I was very heavily involved in the solidarity movements in regard to Central America. Which were a real breakthrough. They were what people would call conservative in many respects — the church, the Midwest. But it was the first time in the history of Europe or the United States ever, as far as I know, that large numbers of people from the imperial society went to live with the victims.

Q: Do you see some continuity to the global justice movement?

A: The global justice movements, yeah. And they sort of grew out of this, in a kind of unplanned fashion, they just developed into these further interactions and developments. People think of the global justice movements as originating in Seattle. But that’s very misleading. They were much more powerful in the South. But they were kind of disregarded.

People in the rich countries didn’t care. Take the probably millions of people who have been killed in the Congo in the last two years. Nobody knows. Nobody cares. You can say, well, we’re sending troops to Iraq for humanitarian reasons. Whatever you think of that argument, a fraction of those forces in Eastern Congo would have deterred and maybe stopped huge massacres, way beyond anything there [in Iraq]. Of course, they don’t have oil wealth and are too unimportant to control and so on, so it doesn’t come up. [Click here for discussion of U.S. intervention in Nicaragua.]

There’s a lack of interest and concern about the rest of the world. These are things that have to be overcome if there’s going to real international solidarity. And the social justice movements have done it for a lot of people. They do reach out to plenty of people now who know a lot about the world. For example, by now there are plenty of people who are getting their information about ongoing events in the world through the Internet.

Q: What can social movements do to change the situation?

A: The bounds are endless. I mean, pick what you like. People are in favor of democratic control, they don’t want to work in corporate tyrannies, they don’t like aggression and massacre, they’d like to have social services.

Just run across the board. Every one of those things is a possibility for organizing. And nothing’s graven in stone. These are very fragile systems of control and domination. And the people in them know that — they’re always deeply concerned about any manifestation of popular activism, and react very powerfully to try to crush it. [Click here for discussion of the backlash against popular uprisings since World War II.]

We’re right in the middle of that right now. There’s tremendous fear of a “crisis of democracy” — too much democratization. The right-wing think tanks got organized to try to shift the political spectrum. The spectrum of discussion and debate changed. The educational system changed.

In fact, a lot of the neoliberal programs which come from the early seventies — you can debate what their economic impact is. What’s not debatable is their effect in undermining democracy. Almost every element of them is designed to reduce the arena of popular participation and decision-making. And that runs from free financial flows to privatization. So, reducing the arena of popular choice. The fact that people may care about Social Security and the environment and health care and so on, is just gradually squeezed out of the public arena as much as possible.

Q: And social movements can provide some antidote to that?

A: Well, you can see the fear there is among highly concentrated business and elite interests. There’s high class consciousness, high degree of commitment to preventing another “crisis of democracy” from developing. And the social movements, the only answer they have to that is to have the population on their side.

And the same is true of elections. The concentration of capital that dominates the electoral system [in Brazil] is enormous. How are they able to counter it? Well, just by having mass popular movements of pretty poor people who combine and balance, counterbalance, capital concentrations. We don’t have that here. So here the elections are just bought. If a candidate happens to represent the interests and concerns of maybe even a large majority of the population, he can’t even enter the political system.

Q: Do you think that people will, if given a chance, actually organize to change some of these things?

A: It’s not so much people crave submission. It’s just that the individual costs of opposition are reasonably high, and there’s a free-rider effect. Others can profit from the gains if somebody sacrifices themselves. And that makes it a hard choice for people to make that decision. If you measure the nature of your life by the standard criteria that are imposed on you by the doctrinal system — meaning make a lot of money, live in a nice house, don’t have people yell at you, and get a good job — if those are the criteria of what makes a decent life, then you pay a cost if you decide to become involved in a global justice movement or something else.

[Joshua] Cohen and [Joel] Rogers make a very convincing statement of that. They don’t think, and I don’t think, it necessarily immobilizes people. But it does reveal some of the impediments to participation as long as you subordinate yourself to the values that are imposed on you by massive propaganda systems. And they really are massive. I mean, if you look at the impact of television and commercialization and so on and so forth, it’s just enormous. It has an overwhelming effect, particularly on young people.

Q: And that could have led to some of the misconceptions, for instance, about the Iraq War — people believing that the weapons of mass destruction had already been found.

A: Well, there, it’s pretty dramatic. There are cases, and that’s one of them, where you can see the effects of the propaganda showing almost immediately. So like in September 2002, when the propaganda began — the war drums began to beat — within a month, they had a majority of the population believing that Iraq is an imminent threat to the United States.

Like this morning, I was listening to the radio on the way in. The [president’s] reaction to the Kay Report, was, “Okay, this proves our point.” And he can say it without real fear of contradiction, even though it’s so outlandish. On a radio address a week or two ago, the president’s Saturday radio address, the theme was that the war was justified because we removed a tyrant who was developing weapons of mass destruction, and plotting with international terrorists. Every one of those claims has been totally exploded. The only known connection to terrorism is that the war increased it, exactly as every intelligence agency predicted it was going to do.

A culture of instant gratification

Q: On February 15, you had millions of people around the world, and hundreds of thousands in the United States, protesting the war in Iraq. And yet some people came out of that saying, “Well, I protested, and nothing changed. The foreign policy didn’t change.”

A: You see, that goes back to the earlier discussion, where we were talking about before about institutional permanence and continuity. I mean, in the United States, where there is very little continuity of social movements, and little permanence, and no institutional base, the attitudes that people have are, “We’ll try, we’ll put out a lot of effort for the next couple months, and if it didn’t work, that shows everything’s impossible.” You know, that’s not the way any social movement’s ever worked. I mean, abolitionism, women’s rights, labor rights, anything you take — you have to expect to keep at it day after day.

But the idea that you’re going to have some kind of instant gratification, or else it was worthless, is a very typically American idea. There’s a ton of propaganda about it. You’re supposed to look for instant gratification. [Click here for discussion of the 1968 Columbia University strike.] And when people [in the seventies] failed to achieve the long-term goals, they regarded it as a failure. And right at that point, the massive popular movements here — the young ones — a lot of them went off into very self-destructive directions.

These were unprecedented protests [in February]. Of course they’re not going to stop power systems, and anyone who participated should have understood that. But they might be a barrier to the next step, if you persist with them. But you have to have a realistic understanding of where power lies, how it can adapt to large-scale protests, and where they must go if they want to really change things.

Q: Do you think that movements today are getting better at building bridges across lines of race, class, gender, religion, other lines of identity?

A: There are some that are pretty successful at it. How much that generalizes is really hard to say. Because it’s also quite easy for systems of power and domination to separate people on these issues. Take the Immigrant [Workers Freedom] Ride. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out how to get immigrants and workers to be on opposite sides. Same on international trade issues. If jobs are lost here, they’re going somewhere else. Well, how do you deal with that? The people and peasants in China have to eat too, so you can’t just disregard that question. [Click here for discussion of the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) and the Free Trade Area of the Americas (FTAA).]

Q: What kind of organizing would say would be more effective?

A: It’s got to be something that’s not just directed to a demonstration and then when you fail, you say, “Okay, we gave up.” It has to be day-to-day, ongoing organization. Delegations going to the Boston Globe editorial office and saying we want you to report the result of these reports, and if you don’t, we’re going to leaflet the whole city and say you’re a bunch of this, that, and the other thing. You know, that kind of pressure could work, and could break through. Alternative journalists could have done it. Very few did. Very few even knew about [the demonstrations surrounding the 2001 Free Trade Area of the Americas summit in Quebec]. Again, you could read [about] it in Z Magazine or probably IndyMedia and stuff like that. But it doesn’t reach people because we don’t have the regular, continuing organizations.

If you go back to an older period — take, say, the period when the Communist Party was alive. And there’s lots and lots of things wrong with the Communist Party, Stalinism and everything else. But it was a very important organization, because it existed, and it was continuing. [Click here for discussion of Chomsky’s family and their involvement with the Communist Party.] You don’t want to reconstitute the old Stalinist Party, obviously. But you want to know what was right about it, as well as what was wrong about it.

Q: What role does democracy play in social movements today?

A: Unless they are really participatory, they’re not going to have staying power, and shouldn’t. And these are not easy things to develop. Anybody who’s been in any popular movement, whether it’s a group of twenty people or something larger, knows that there are internal tendencies that lead to hierarchy. [Click here for more on the importance of democracy in movements.]

Q: It has to be this consciousness among people, to make them creative, active citizens?

A: It has to be a consciousness, yes. Just as a massive propaganda system, that everyone’s subjected to from infancy, is trying to drive them to become what are called “rational wealth maximizers” — maximize your own wealth, and don’t give a damn about anybody else — there’s huge pressures to turn people into that, and there have to be equally huge pressures, or bigger ones, to bring out other aspects of human concerns and capacities. But it takes work.

Q: The New York Times is talking about the emergence of the “other superpower” to contest American power.

A: They were worried about it. Just like they were worried about the crisis of democracy. That one sentence in The New York Times represented real fear that the world may be getting out of control. And it shows up in other respects, too. Take this whole Old Europe, New Europe business. In part, it was just the expression of the absolute, passionate hatred of democracy among American elites, which is really remarkable. I mean, the fact that Old Europe is denounced because the governments took the same position as the majority of the population, and New Europe is praised because the governments overrode an even bigger majority of the population.

But there’s much deeper issues than that. Old Europe is France and Germany. That’s the industrial and commercial and financial heartland of Europe. And the concern over that, reflects an old concern — going back to the Second World War — that Europe was going to strike an independent course. And if it does it’ll be led by its heartland, France and Germany. So when they get out of line, and if they don’t follow orders from Crawford, Texas, it’s really dangerous. Because they might take Europe along with them into an independent course in world affairs. [Click here for discussion of the growing power of Northeast Asia.]

So it’s not just the “second superpower” — you know, popular opinion. It’s also the fact that the world has conflicting centers of power. The U.S. happens to dominate militarily, but not in other dimensions. The idea of losing control is very frightening, whether it’s control of domestic population, or control of the world system and so on. And international policies are very heavily geared toward this. Say, taking control of Iraqi oil, or making sure that Caspian Sea pipelines go to the West. A lot of this is based on the concern that Northeast Asia might seek energy independence. Which would mean the loss of a very powerful lever of control.

Q: When some Americans see the protests around the world against, for instance, the Iraq War, they see that as anti-Americanism. Do you think that’s a valid concern?

A: The very notion is interesting. The very fact that that notion exists is interesting. Concepts like anti-Americanism only exist in totalitarian states. Suppose people in Italy protest against Berlusconi. Is that called anti-Italianism? In Russia, it was called anti-Sovietism. In Brazil, under the generals, if you protested you were anti-Brazilian. But the only way that concept can exist is if you identify the leadership with the society, the culture, the people, their aspirations, and so on. If you do that, if you accept that deeply totalitarian doctrine, you can have notions like anti-Sovietism, anti-Brazilianism, anti-Americanism, and so on. [Click here for more on anti-Americanism.]

Q: What do you think the future of social movements will be, and are you optimistic or pessimistic?

A: I think the tendencies over the last thirty or forty years are pretty hopeful. But it’s really a question of trajectory. I mean, there are very competing trajectories in the world. There’s one towards centralization and militarization and domination. And disaster, because it is facing disaster. There’s another towards increasing concern over human rights, over issues of peace, over — you know, “Is this going to be an environment for our grandchildren to live in?” — and so on. And the question is which of these trajectories dominates.”

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

The end of old-school organizing

How United for a Fair Economy is reaching across lines of class and race in the fight for economic justice.

“Billionaires for Bush” take to the streets in support of Bush’s tax cuts. (United for a Fair Economy)

It’s day two of their hunger strike, and the men in red bandannas mill glumly in front of a wrought-iron fence, their shoes sodden from the cold February downpour. Beyond the fence, yellow-uniformed security guards block the way into Taco Bell Corp. headquarters, a sleek steel and glass building ensconced in a corporate park in Irvine, California.

Immigrants from Mexico, Guatemala, Haiti, and elsewhere, the men spent three days on a bus to get here from Immokalee, Florida, where they pick tomatoes for a living, the very tomatoes used in Taco Bell’s Soft Taco Supreme or Nachos BellGrande. Immokalee is, in the words of one Justice Department official, “ground zero for modern slavery.” Coercion and intimidation, the workers say, are commonplace in the fields; in the past six years, prosecutors there have successfully tried six cases of involuntary servitude.

It’s easy to see why the job isn’t appealing. Contractors pay the pickers a little more than one cent per pound of tomatoes picked — on a good day, a sum of $50 for ten hours of back-breaking work in the sun, among the mosquitoes. Now the workers are fighting rumbling bellies and inclement weather to get Taco Bell’s attention. Their demand: a raise of one penny per pound picked.

Tomás Aguilar, a popular educator for United for a Fair Economy who joined the men when their bus stopped in Los Angeles, is here to give the striking workers a sense of the “big picture” of inequality in America. He has given this talk — on the “Growing Divide” in wealth and income — at countless colleges and workplaces. But this time is different.

As he stands in the rain alongside the tomato pickers, Aguilar decides to ditch his flipcharts, handouts, and “inequality” exercises. Instead of launching into his usual spiel on the World Trade Organization, he begins by asking the men to tell their own stories — what drove them out of their communities, why they came to Florida to pick tomatoes, what brought them here to Irvine.

With his chubby cheeks and boyish looks, Aguilar doesn’t fit the part of the rabble-rousing labor activist, but at forty-one he has worked his share of minimum wage, service-sector jobs. He is also savvy enough to know how to adjust his pitch to the audience. The discussion he led that rainy day in February neatly illustrates the new approach that United for a Fair Economy (UFE) and other activist groups are taking nowadays: attempting to cross lines of culture, race, and class by recognizing rather than ignoring differences.

Explicitly rejecting the traditional “colorblind” approach that shuns potentially divisive issues like race, UFE has encouraged frank discussion among its members about their social divisions. It’s what is sometimes known as the “personal narrative” approach to organizing — a concerted effort to get people to air their own experiences, thoughts, and emotions, in the hope that such dialogue will help build the personal relationships that sustain a social movement.

To connect with the tomato pickers of Immokalee, Aguilar couldn’t do what he did at college campuses. He had to get beyond what he calls the “PowerPoint mentality” — that self-consciously sophisticated toolbox of snazzy computer presentations and carefully collated three-ring binders that the professional activist relies upon. He had to speak in plain Spanish. “I know [that in] Latino culture, people tell stories,” says Aguilar, the son of Mexican migrant workers who immigrated to Texas, where Aguilar was born. “And I had to get used to that. I had to get out of my mindset of saying, ‘But wait, the agenda says we should be here, and we’re only here.’ The important thing is for people to tell their story and get their point out.”

In a 1998 re-enactment of the Boston Tea Party, Republican lawmakers are poised to throw a crate containing the U.S. tax code into Boston Harbor — but then the “Working Family Life Raft” (manned by UFE staffers Chris Hartman and Kristin Barreli) floats into view. (United for a Fair Economy)

Organizing in America’s underbelly

Before he became a popular educator for UFE, Tomás Aguilar spent twenty years in America’s underpaid, underappreciated service sector. He did everything from making deliveries to answering telephones to waiting tables.

Working in the underbelly of the American economy, Aguilar got to see, firsthand, the ways that race — his race — shaped the opportunities available to him. In his native south Texas, Aguilar racked up years of experience waiting tables. But when he moved to Boston in the late eighties, he had trouble finding work. “The restaurants I had worked in before were nice restaurants,” Aguilar says. “But over here, they would just look at me and say, ‘Oh, we don’t have any waiter positions. How ’bout a busboy?’ ”

Eventually, Aguilar found a job at a KFC in a predominantly white suburb. Several Mexican and Central American immigrants worked there, alongside white teenage co-workers who would utter racial slurs to their faces while grumbling about the growing numbers of Asian American customers. “It was interesting,” Aguilar says. “You had the people coming in ‘taking over,’ who were Asian. And, on the other hand, [the white kids] were there serving them, but they were lashing out against the Latinos.”

The same questions Aguilar had back then, as a minimum-wage employee in a racially charged workplace, would later become the focus of his work at UFE. UFE’s team of “popular educators” help people make sense of the larger trends in income and wealth in America — how the gap between rich and poor is growing and what that means for politics, democracy, and workers’ everyday lives. Race is a large, yet often hidden, part of that story. The laborers toiling in the fields for U.S. corporations — including the Florida tomato pickers who waged a hunger strike against Taco Bell last February — tend to be dark-skinned. Likewise, poor people of color and immigrants tend to be among those most affected by the dramatic cuts in social services now occurring in state after state as the costs of war and recession mount.

Given that racial inequality is so tangled up with America’s economic inequality, UFE is trying to make race more central to their educational campaigns. To date, UFE has focused on reaching out to the country’s rapidly growing Latino community. Jeannette Huezo, UFE’s training network coordinator and herself a Salvadoran immigrant, spearheaded the work of making UFE’s resources accessible to Latinos — linguistically and culturally. UFE now offers versions of their educational workshops on economic inequality, progressive taxation, and the local consequences of global trade that are conducted completely in Spanish. And they have partnered with Latino activists across the country — doing workshops for the Florida-based Coalition of Immokalee Workers (the organizers of the Taco Bell hunger strike); making connections with housing activists in Jamaica Plain, Massachusetts; and organizing a network of Latino popular educators across New England.

Part of the challenge is learning to tailor UFE’s approach so that it’s culturally accessible to different groups. “You’re working on tax issues. Right away you assume that’s a wonky area that older white men work on,” Aguilar says. He remembers how a Latina woman once came to his workshop with a calculator, thinking that she’d have to do sums because it was supposed to be about “economics.”

Being able to talk to people about these issues in their own language also makes a huge difference, Aguilar says. “It’s a much different vibe than just having interpreters, because you lose all the storytelling, the sharing.”

Using the “personal narrative” approach to let Latino workers “tell their stories” goes beyond creating a pleasant group dynamic, or even dealing with cultural differences. It’s about sensitivity: opening up space at the table for a variety of voices, confronting problems head-on, treating differences as opportunities rather than challenges.

This approach can be seen in another of UFE’s recent projects, a book called The Color of Wealth, co-written by five authors — American Indian, African American, Asian American, Latino, and white. The book tells the stories of different racial and ethnic groups as they tried to “make it” in America, documenting the federal policies that helped whites gain wealth while throwing legal barriers in the way of the advancement of people of color. “We want to counter the argument that affirmative action has created a level playing field — in fact, there is a history of calculated, accumulated disadvantage,” says Meizhu Lui, UFE’s executive director. “Our message is that policies created the inequality, and policies can be changed.” The book will come out in early 2005; in the meantime, UFE is developing a new educational campaign focused on the “racial wealth gap,” and recently hired two African American staffers to work on it.

Three of the writers featured in The Color of Wealth come from UFE’s staff or board — a fact that speaks volumes about the organization’s new direction. In recent years UFE has tried to make its own office culture more welcoming to underrepresented minorities. For instance, it now has an affirmative action policy that takes class into account, and it also has designated staff to handle employee personality conflicts that are racially charged. It now has seven people of color on a staff of eighteen.

Even as they reach out to new communities, Lui and other activists recognize that their movement must appeal to broad segments of the American public — traversing racial and class lines — if it is going to muster any political wherewithal. Along these lines, organizers at UFE talk about the need to organize people of color on issues of economic inequality without alienating the white working class. They talk about creating a strong coalition of low- and middle-income Americans, while leaving room for affluent Americans who buy into the justice of their cause.

“Clearly, people need to organize around identity and fight fights around identity, and that’s a place for tremendous energy and power and self-interest,” says Chuck Collins, UFE’s program director and co-founder. The thing is, organizers for too long have been stuck in an “either-or” mindset, Collins says: Either they focus on class, and treat race as something “invisible,” or they hone in on race, and ignore how their race-based demands turn off the legions of white workers who also think of themselves as underpaid and exploited.

“In the process of doing multiracial, multiclass organizing, we’re kind of realizing that everyone has a piece of the puzzle,” Collins says.

Chuck Collins speaks at a Boston rally immediately following the landmark 1999 protest in Seattle against the World Trade Organization. (United for a Fair Economy)

Reaching out to the rich …

“Everyone” really does mean “everyone” — even the fabulously rich. In January, Beacon Press published a new book called Wealth and Our Commonwealth, which makes the case for preserving the estate tax, the tax on inherited fortunes that Republicans have been trying to kill for years and managed to strike down — temporarily — in the Bush administration’s tax cuts two years ago. The co-authors of that book? Chuck Collins and William H. Gates, Sr. — father of the richest man in the world.

The book was the brainchild of UFE’s Responsible Wealth project, a network of businesspeople, investors, and affluent Americans lobbying for policies to address the country’s “deepening economic inequality.” Their discontent could be summed up in one statistic: Today, the richest 1 percent of Americans own 40 percent of the country’s private wealth — more than the collective wealth of the bottom 95 percent of Americans. (The so-called “Gilded Age” of the late nineteenth century was only slightly worse: The richest 1 percent of families had about half of the wealth.) “Here we are in the second Gilded Age, and we’re dismantling the rungs of the ladder,” Collins says. “The more the political priorities reference the desires of the wealthy, the less friendly that policy will be to low- and middle-income people. It’s just not on the radar screen. [The wealthy] are not sitting around saying, ‘How can we solve the day-care crisis?’ They’re saying, ‘How can we reduce the tax burden on capital?’ ”

Attempting to reverse this trend, Responsible Wealth has recruited some of the nation’s richest businesspeople in a fight to preserve the estate tax, a tax levied on substantial personal fortunes ($1 million and above) upon the death of their owners. Investor Warren Buffett, financier George Soros, and Seattle lawyer William Gates, Sr. — father of Microsoft founder Bill Gates — are some of the big names on UFE’s all-star roster. Their insistence that they want to be taxed even more heavily recently landed UFE on the front page of The New York Times. “Dozens of Rich Americans Join In Fight to Retain the Estate Tax,” the headline read.

To date, Responsible Wealth has racked up the signatures of 1,555 individuals subject to the estate tax who have called for its preservation. In addition to its work on “tax fairness,” the project is also lobbying for corporate reforms (for instance, introducing shareholder resolutions that call for corporate boards to stop rewarding executives with bloated compensation packages) and for the passage of “living wage” ordinances (legislation that puts a floor on salaries based on what families need to survive).

Why would rich Americans support a cause seemingly against their self-interest? UFE’s wealthy allies point to the role that regulated markets, a reliable legal system, and publicly subsidized education and research have played in their own business success. They realize that too much wealth in the hands of too few ultimately threatens democracy and national unity. “These are people who understand good fortune is not entirely of their own making, who understand the role that society plays in their good fortune,” Collins says. “They are also parents and grandparents, and they see where things are heading, and know that there are limits to how tall they can build walls around their own families.”

Collins speaks from personal experience. The great-grandson of hotdog magnate Oscar Mayer, Collins grew up in Detroit amidst privileged surroundings — and extreme segregation. An awareness of inequality struck early, with the Detroit riot of 1967. “My seven-year-old impression was that things weren’t fair,” he says. “My analysis hasn’t changed much.” When he turned twenty-six and inherited half a million dollars, Collins astounded many by deciding to give it away. Most of it went to the Haymarket People’s Fund, a progressive foundation named after the 1886 Chicago riot that was a turning point in the American labor movement.

After spending more than a decade battling inequality — first as an affordable housing advocate, and then in the Central American peace movement — Collins co-founded United for a Fair Economy in 1995. He and other activists felt that the public lacked the information and context to criticize the country’s dramatic polarization of income and wealth in recent years. “People experience the economy in a very individual way,” he says, “kind of like the weather. They don’t look at how their individual circumstances are connected to these larger trends.” To combat this ignorance, it’s not very effective to crusade against specific rich individuals with nasty habits, even if the recent scandals at Enron and WorldCom have made this easy sport. Rather, Collin says, UFE has to show people how the rules themselves are being “hijacked” to favor some people over others.

With this strategy in mind, Collins sees winning over sympathetic billionaires as a smart tactic. “Successful social movements mobilize a base, but also undercut or divide an elite — or more affirmatively, win allies in the governing elite. When the elite is not totally lined up, you have a little room to move. When the elite is lined up, it’s tough to move — you don’t have much social organizing space, or legitimacy.” By getting the Rockefellers and Buffetts of the world on their side, UFE has been able to defend higher tax rates for the rich — that is, “progressive” taxation — by an appeal to “higher principles,” Collins says.

What UFE’s strategy makes clear is that divisions don’t necessarily undermine democracy. In fact, in the right hands, divisions can be harnessed to further democracy by rallying the public against those who would seek to concentrate political power in the hands of a select few. The trick is not to make the divisions too rigid — which would lead to the tired “us” vs. “them” mentality — but to open up space for people to cross categories, if they so choose.

UFE educator Betsy Leondar-Wright conducts a workshop on the growth of economic inequality in America.

… while still wooing the working class

Even as they try to win over new allies, activists for economic justice are coming to the painful realization that the people who have traditionally been their steadfast supporters — those downtrodden proletarians, the white working class — have largely turned away from progressives, the Democratic Party, or any other kind of politics that vaguely smells of liberalism. During the Cold War, conservative politicians stoked fears of communism to turn working- and middle-class Americans against a strong safety net and other social policies that could help equalize opportunities. Nowadays, they simply demonize the (dark-skinned) poor. “Conservatives have used race as a wedge to pull the white working class behind reactionary agendas,” Collins points out.

One of UFE’s goals is to “shift” that wedge — that is, redirect people’s anger away from immigrants and the poor and toward the richest 5 percent. “The right wing has been very successful at driving that wedge between the very poorest of people and everybody else,” says Lui. “So we try to drive the wedge between the very richest and everyone else.”

When Lui took over as UFE’s executive director two years ago, she sought to make race a more visible issue on the organization’s agenda. Much of UFE’s outreach into communities of color has taken place under her watch. But like Collins, she maintains that UFE should not give up its work with whites. “It’s kind of like, you don’t want to kill the goose that laid the golden egg, you know? So I see it not so much as bringing down something, but building something else up, so it’s equal,” she says.

A former service worker and union organizer, Lui has spent most of her life working alongside — and later, organizing — this much sought-after voting bloc. Her interactions haven’t always been pretty. In the mid-seventies, as a single mom with a seven-year-old son, she was desperately in need of work. It was the height of the recession, and the only job she could find was at Dunkin Donuts. “When I was hired for the job, the manager said to me, ‘Oh, you Chinese are good workers, aren’t you?’ So I said, ‘Ah-so, velly good!’“ Lui recalls, with a laugh. “Cause I really needed the job.”

Later, when she became a kitchen worker at Boston City Hospital and the first Asian American in the history of Massachusetts to be elected president of a union, she retained her thick skin. “I had to work with whites who were quite racist, but they were working-class whites, and I knew to form a strong union, I had to work with them — I had to win them over, too,” she says. “So it was good practice, because I think many times people of color on the left just say, ‘Okay, they’re racist, we’re going to write them off,’ but in the end we’re not going to win a victory, we’re not going to create the society we want, unless we move people who don’t agree with us to begin with.”

But how to woo people of color without alienating whites? Social policies directed at the poor have historically been seen as burdens on the white community, who believe the money is going only to African Americans and Latinos. UFE organizers have tried to get around the chasm of race politics by carting out their own bogeyman: the greed-crazed corporate CEO. They send political “groupies” dressed in three-piece suits and mink coats onto the campaign trail — “Billionaires for Bush (or Gore)” — to shine a light on politicians’ corporate influences. They take out irreverent ads ridiculing anti-estate tax activists as a small group of right-wing radicals. And they fire off press releases that illuminate the growing gulf between the salaries of CEOs and those of their worker bees (a ratio that rose from 42 to 1 in 1980 to 282 to 1 in 2002).

Another way that UFE works to defuse racial resentments is by advocating policies that aren’t “race-based,” but that working Americans across the racial spectrum can support. “Tactically, I think that’s a mistake,” says Collins, referring to racially targeted proposals such as slavery reparations. “We need to have a universal wealth-broadening agenda that, by the way, will disproportionately benefit people of color, but isn’t framed as such. Because there’s still a lot of divisions in the white working class, who also want access to home ownership, savings, debt-free college education.” Collins argues in favor of broad-based, universal social policies akin to the G.I. bill — the post-War War II legislation that enabled millions of working-class war veterans to go to college and buy homes.

“Is it possible? Will [these policies] lose political support because they’re seen as benefiting people of color? Will they not really redress the historic inequalities?” Collins doesn’t have a good answer to his questions. But he and Lui both agree that whatever policies ultimately get put forward, organizers need to show genuine sensitivity to all the different groups in their coalition in order to keep people happy and the movement progressing. “We’re fumbling along, trying to figure things out, but at the same time not remaking ourselves into the Center for Third World Organizing,” Collins says, referring to an Oakland-based activist group that organizes communities of color. “Where do we have a piece of the organizing puzzle that no one else is doing? Can we keep talking about the importance of class while ignoring the importance of race? It’s very emotionally charged at times: ‘Which side are you on?’ I hope we can get beyond the either-or politics.”

You can see this complex approach toward organizing in the way that UFE responded to the nationwide protests against the Iraq war. In a new workshop called “The War on the Economy,” the organization made a conscious effort to reach two distinct groups: middle-class whites disgusted with the Bush administration’s foreign adventures, and working-class people of color slammed by drastic cuts in social services. They hired an African American organizer to present the workshop to community organizations and political groups in the Boston area.

“Communities of color have been more focused on the war at home,” Lui says. “[Meanwhile], more progressive whites are thinking, ‘Oh my god, we’re doing this horrible stuff abroad!’ And they’re thinking less about … what’s going on in the neighborhood right next door.” By helping activists in communities of color understand the war abroad and the militarization of the U.S. economy, and helping white peace-and-justice activists appreciate the impact of the war on lower-income people at home, UFE hoped to bridge the two worlds, Lui says.

You could say that it’s the same kind of work that Tomás Aguilar was doing in Irvine, California last February — bridging the gulf between two cultures. The hunger strikers from the Florida tomato fields and the organizer from downtown Boston spoke the same language, but a cultural divide yawned before them. For his part, Aguilar wrestled with the extent of his own privilege — how he could go out and buy new socks, while the strikers walked around in soggy shoes — and wondered what he, the outsider, could contribute to their cause.

In the end, the strike reached a stalemate. Taco Bell only agreed to talks and made no promises. The workers’ campaign goes on.

Yet, the people who went through the concientitazión, or consciousness-raising, so essential to building a larger movement — Aguilar included — came out of it transformed. Aguilar remembers one moment in particular, when the tomato pickers began to get a sense of what all this talk of inequality really meant. Instead of turning to his prepared charts, Aguilar asked his audience to open their eyes and look around them. On one side: security guards, fences, luxury cars, shiny glass buildings. “And then us, sleeping on the sidewalk, rainy — with umbrellas, with little tents — out there, singing, playing guitar, fasting,” Aguilar says. “And educating ourselves. It was just like, wow … Who needs the charts? This is what it looks like.”

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ORGANIZATIONS >

Center for Third World Organizing
Racial justice organization that seeks to build a “social justice movement led by people of color.” Based in Oakland, California.
URL: http://www.ctwo.org

Coalition of Immokalee Workers
Workers’ rights group that organizes migrant farmworkers. Based in Immokalee, Florida.
URL: http://ciw-online.org

Responsible Wealth
Boston-based network of businesspeople and investors “concerned about deepening economic inequality.”
URL: http://www.responsiblewealth.org

United for a Fair Economy
Boston-based non-profit organization that supports social movements for greater equality.
URL: http://www.faireconomy.org (Spanish version: http://www.economiajusta.org)

TOPICS > ECONOMIC JUSTICE >

“Boycott the Bell!”
An account of the hunger strike by farmworkers outside Taco Bell headquarters in Irvine, California. By the Coalition of Immokalee Workers. February 20-March 5, 2003.
URL: http://www.ciw-online.org/CIW%20hunger_strike_site/hunger_strike_daily_report.html

“Call to Preserve the Estate Tax”
Signers of Responsible Wealth’s “Call to Preserve the Estate Tax” who are subject to that tax. By United for a Fair Economy. September 25, 2003.
URL: http://www.responsiblewealth.org/estatetax/ETCall_Signers.html

“The Triumph of Hope Over Self-Interest”
By David Brooks. Published in The New York Times. January 12, 2003.
URL: http://www.nytimes.com/2003/01/12/opinion/12BROO.html

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

Elisabeth Leonard, Raging Granny

Faith, righteousness, and the march to stamp out war.

Rush-hour pedestrians pass Elisabeth Leonard at a peace vigil in Boston’s Copley Square. Leonard and other members of United for Justice with Peace (UJP) were protesting the U.S.-led war on Iraq.

Wearing black clothes, mismatched floppy hats, and nervous, awkward smiles, the Raging Grannies form a line before an audience of twenty peace and justice activists. Their musical director, Mary Westropp, plays a stilted rhythm on a small keyboard in the corner of the room. Like a motley rebel army with more passion than practice, the Grannies begin marching in place, off time.

Gray metal folding chairs are arranged in horseshoe formation under humming fluorescent lights at the Mystic Community Center in Somerville, Massachusetts. Late arrivals at the Sunday brunch — held monthly by Boston-based United for Justice with Peace (UJP) — deposit their canvas bags and outdoor-store backpacks on a table inside the door and quietly find a seat. Elisabeth Leonard, a petite woman with a brown, boyish haircut and a gracefully wrinkled face, introduces the group.

“We are the Boston contingent of the Raging Grannies,” Elisabeth says to the white, middle-aged, and mostly female audience. Behind her, the ten other Grannies ready themselves to sing, lifting their photocopied lyric sheets to their eyes. The only UJP member among them, Elisabeth booked this gig. She wanted to make the introduction, and she’s enjoying her moment in the spotlight. “We have a repertoire and we’re ready to travel,” she adds, smiling.

Attendance for the Sunday brunch is down during the summer months, when Boston’s student population dwindles. Most of the twenty or so present this July morning are what college activists refer to as the “old school” — veterans of the anti-war, civil rights, and feminist movements of the 1960s and 1970s. Younger activists, who until recently focused their angst on the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank, tend to distinguish between themselves and the “old school.” To Elisabeth and the Grannies it’s all just “the movement.”

UJP, a loose coalition of area activist groups formed in the weeks following September 11, 2001, opposes the Iraq war and the Bush administration’s “with us or against us” posturing. The organization depends on the dedication of movement lifers like Elisabeth for survival during the lean summer months and for leadership year-round. A forty-year veteran of “the movement,” she has the idealism, energy, and righteous attitude of a twenty-year-old and is among the most active members of the organization. She works as a librarian twenty hours per week and spends another sixty or so doing unpaid peace work with various organizations. She does gigs with the Grannies on weekends, performing at demonstrations, conventions, and meetings like this one.

Wearing denim shorts, Elisabeth is the only Granny out of uniform. She steps back in line as they begin singing the first of three songs, “We March to Stamp Out War.” The number ends with the Grannies raising two-fingered peace signs high above their heads, and elicits approving hoots, hollers, and applause from the audience.

The second tune is an original Granny rap:

Watcha gonna do with a bunch of warlords
Never spent a day in the army
Ordered your kids into harm’s way
Watcha gonna do — two — three
Watcha gonna do — two — three
Watcha gonna do — two
One, two, three — go!

Watcha gonna do with a gang of imposters
Bush. Cheney. Donald. Star Wars.
Stole our election to build their empire
Watcha gonna do — two — three
Watcha gonna do — two — three
Watcha gonna do — two
One, two, three — go!

… Hey, hey, the heat is rising
Yo, yo, we’re realizing
We could be vaporizing,
Ear-lay in the morning!

Throughout the song the audience reacts awkwardly, unsure how much laughter is appropriate. The Grannies are smiling — it’s their intent to be silly — but there is earnestness in their delivery. If they’re irrelevant and out of touch, if they’re just “testifyin’ to the faithful,” they don’t seem to care.

Elisabeth and a passerby discuss the Iraq War.

Age and the ‘big picture’

Elisabeth, a founding member of the Boston Grannies, is a self-described Quaker, feminist, and peace and justice activist. “I think Martin Luther King’s march on Washington in August of 1963 was the first thing that I did that was socially active,” she says, having been a devoted full-time participant in the movement ever since. A subject of the FBI’s infamous COINTELPRO domestic counterintelligence surveillance program, she once harbored anti-war priest Daniel Berrigan. Older now, Elisabeth is more active than ever, organizing, protesting, putting on workshops, and singing with the Grannies. She admits her life investment in peace and justice may never pay off, but like our born-again Christian president, she says her faith keeps her going. “It couldn’t be any other way,” she says.

Elisabeth is a grandmother. She plays the part well, wearing colorful dangling earrings and flowing purple skirts, and ending phone calls with a cheerful “okie-doke.” She makes easy conversation with everyone, from age six to eighty-six. She won’t divulge her age in part because, she says, “I know I look a lot younger than I am.” She does.

Elisabeth wants to be taken seriously in what she sees as an ageist culture. If people know that you are a certain age “they just assume you’re on the brink of Alzheimer’s,” she says. She doesn’t want a triviality like age to stand in the way of dialogue. “I just feel it’s important to have as much credibility as possible,” she says. “And I really have a great feeling for working with young people.” Her youthful zeal and her experience in the trenches of peace and justice activism allow her to bridge the pronounced generation gap between passionate collegians and the more staid “old school.” It’s a role that’s essential to the movement’s progress and longevity beyond the lifespan of the current administration. She cautions the youth of the movement not to get discouraged — to dig in for a perpetual fight. Ironically, her enthusiasm and quiet leadership is buoyed by Bush-like faith and a big-picture mentality.

Elisabeth has never owned a television. It helps her to stay hopeful. She sees the mainstream media as jingoistic, simple-minded, and, for her own purposes, irrelevant. So she consumes media selectively. She reads and often cites articles from The New Yorker and Harper’s, and is on a handful of listservs. Lately, NPR has been too conservative, she complains, so she has taken to listening during her morning workout, to keep her heart rate up. Despite her partiality toward traditionally liberal media, she keeps on top of current events. “She’s always really up to date,” says Nancy Wrenn, her friend and fellow Granny. Elisabeth scoffs at the suggestion that she is naive or sheltered, and wonders how people who watch CNN all day get anything done.

The reinvigoration of “the movement” in the past few years, from the globalization protests of the late 1990s to the groundswell of resistance to the Bush administration, is encouraging to Elisabeth. On February 15, 2003, peace organizations staged the most coordinated and well-attended anti-war protests ever, fueled by activists’ new tool – the Internet. An estimated 10 million people in over 700 cities and towns participated. The worldwide demonstrations exposed a broad, diverse vein of opposition to the Bush administration’s policies, but, as we know, failed to stop the war.

President Bush was unmoved by the demonstrations. “Democracy is a beautiful thing,” he said. But he added that to be swayed by protests “is like saying I’m going to decide policy based upon a focus group.” He went on to mischaracterize the protesters’ central argument: “Some in the world don’t view Saddam Hussein as a risk to peace. I respectfully disagree.” What protesters like Elisabeth were really trying to say — as she will readily tell you — is that you can’t counter a “risk to peace” with a preemptive war.

Bush seemed to have made up his mind long before the “shock and awe” of the Iraq war commenced. His spiritual rebirth at age forty and subsequent ascendance to power came with an unshakable faith in Jesus Christ. He credits that faith for his recovery from alcohol abuse and his political success. “Without it I would be a different person and without it I doubt I’d be here today,” he said at the National Prayer Breakfast in 2001. During his determined push toward war in Iraq, Bush was hardly mired in self-doubt. He had long concluded that Saddam Hussein was evil, and once the determination was made, in his mind, there was little else to consider. “If anyone can be at peace,” he said, “I am at peace about this.”

Not surprisingly, Elisabeth is reluctant to acknowledge the parallels between herself and the president. Like Bush, she has a “big-picture” mentality. “I’m not a detail person,” she says. “I paint broad strokes.” The common result is a tendency to be dismissive toward opposing arguments, to the point of demonizing. “I think he’s evil,” Elisabeth says of Bush, “and I don’t usually say that.” This is just one of her unconscious fibs — she says that frequently.

Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld echoed the president’s smug indifference to February’s demonstrations. “Well, isn’t it a wonderful thing that we have a democracy and that [protesters] can say what they think?” he said in a March CNBC interview. Elisabeth bristles at Rumsfeld’s condescension, as she played a part — however small — in his rise to power.

Elisabeth and a fellow UJP member at the vigil.

Conservative beginnings, fugitives, and the FBI

Elisabeth’s simple two-room apartment is buried at the end of a narrow alley in her predominantly Hispanic East Boston neighborhood. On her kitchen table, her laptop sits open next to piles of computer printouts and peace organization mailings. She gets about eighty emails a day, she says. In her living room, between two windows that face the alley, a portrait of her mother painted by American impressionist Robert Vonnoh hangs on the wall.

Elisabeth sits opposite her bed, on a worn blue loveseat. “I’ll tell you something terrible,” she says, crossing her legs. “I went to the same high school as Donald Rumsfeld. I was one of the groupies, you know, when he first ran,” she laughs. “A little thing that didn’t know anything.” In 1962, over a decade after they were schoolmates and only a year before her conversion to peace and justice activism, Elisabeth volunteered for Rumsfeld’s congressional campaign, working the phones, stuffing envelopes, and, on one occasion, riding on a parade float. She is embarrassed by that time in her life — more by the fact of having conservative views than by abandoning them so quickly. “I thought he was just ‘it,’” she says, blushing. “I sure have changed.”

Elisabeth grew up in Kenilworth, Illinois, an affluent Chicago suburb. She was the first daughter of a wealthy mother and, she says, an alcoholic father. After high school, she attended the liberal Carleton College in Northfield, Minnesota. “I was glad to leave my family,” she says.

At Carleton, she met her first husband, with whom she had two children. After eight years of marriage they divorced in part because, Elisabeth says, he was also an alcoholic. While working at a Presbyterian church in Minnesota, she was introduced to Harry Leonard. They married six weeks later and had a boy, Andy. From Illinois, they moved to Brooklyn Heights, New York, where Elisabeth became active in Quaker action groups.

In the late 1960s, after her second divorce, Elisabeth moved her three sons from Brooklyn Heights to Swarthmore, Pennsylvania, for the open spaces, the good schools, and because “it was a hotbed of Quakerism,” she says. There, she became an active member of the American Friends Service Committee (AFSC), a high-profile anti-war group that’s still active today. Elisabeth’s youngest son remembers being different from his neighbors. “There weren’t any other families in town like us,” says Andy, who is now forty. “We had pretty long hair, and we dressed sort of funny, and not many people had divorced parents.”

Elisabeth’s unorthodox parenting did not end with long hair and funny clothes. “I was on the FBI list, and my kids always got a chuckle out of it,” Elisabeth says. Andy recalls coming home to find that his mother was in jail. She says she has been arrested three times, but she could be fibbing again. Andy confirms the doubt. “I think it’s an underestimate. I remember going to court and things like that,” he says. Elisabeth says later that it was “probably more like seven [times],” but she’s still not convincing. “It was all very conscientious,” she adds.

Court appearances weren’t the only way Elisabeth involved her family directly with “the movement.” In May 1968, nine anti-war activists broke into the local draft board in Catonsville, Maryland. Among them was Father Daniel Berrigan, an anti-war priest and prolific author. Before he was convicted of conspiracy and sentenced to three years in federal prison (he served eighteen months), he hid in Elisabeth’s Swarthmore home. “We had FBI cars out in the driveway, looking at us, keeping track of us, and my phone was bugged,” she says.

On March 8, 1971, a group calling itself the Citizens’ Commission to Investigate the FBI broke into the local FBI headquarters in Media, Pennsylvania. Photocopied files were distributed throughout the press and to documented activists. An official end to COINTELPRO followed fifty-one days later, on April 28. “One day I got all my files from the FBI mailed to me,” she says. Acting as if the story has little notoriety or significance, she doesn’t mention AFSC, COINTELPRO, or Media. “People had broken in and taken all the activists’ files and sent them out so the government couldn’t trace us,” she says. Elisabeth later destroyed her file.

By all accounts, Elisabeth rarely talks about her past. She keeps a lifetime of mementos above the closet in her apartment, on a shelf she can’t reach. The small red toy chest — no bigger than a breadbox — is full of pictures of her sons playing football and old birthday cards. The pictures of Elisabeth, the newspaper clippings, and the protest posters could all fit neatly in a manila envelope.

Elisabeth’s disinterest in her past explains her habit of fibbing; it’s less an attempt to deceive than it is an attempt to eschew what she views as extraneous details. “I don’t falsify things,” she says, “but I don’t also put things in exact order all the time.” Committed to change, she doesn’t have time to celebrate old victories or rehash stinging defeats. “The big push now is to get the Bush administration out,” she says. “After the Iraq war was over — I mean, it’s not over — we had to have some way of talking to people about getting involved.”

‘They thought I was going to end up a bag lady.’

There are at least forty overlapping peace organizations in Greater Boston. In lieu of traditional leadership, Elisabeth plays an important role in coordinating their efforts. “She’s a facilitator kind of person,” says Shelagh Foreman, director of Massachusetts Peace Action. “She’s the kind of person that tries to make things happen without pushing them in people’s faces.”

Elisabeth acknowledges that her strengths lie in her ability to foster dialogue across lines of race, age, and temperament. “I’m good with people,” she says. Fellow Raging Granny Nancy Wrenn agrees, saying Elisabeth has a talent for listening and for engaging people in conversation.

Having taken on the responsibility of compiling a comprehensive weekly peace and justice calendar, Elisabeth is a hub for local peace and justice news. She attends as many events as she can. “Sometimes there are two or three things happening at the same time and you have to choose,” she says. “It’s always exciting.” When she moved to Boston from Philadelphia in the mid-1990s, she sold her car. She prefers public transportation. “It’s a great place to organize,” she says. “You wouldn’t have that if you were sitting by yourself in a car.” When she’s not organizing on the Blue Line of the Boston T, she’s breezing past sidewalk window-shoppers on the way to a meeting or a vigil, carrying her ever-present black leather backpack. For Elisabeth, peace work has never been a hobby. “She’s devoting her whole life to movement work,” says Joan Ecklein, Elisabeth’s co-chair at the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom. “She goes from one meeting to another, flat out.”

Elisabeth’s perpetual motion — which explains her reluctance to relive the past — is fueled by her faith. “I keep plowing along with what I’m doing right now and believing that it’s going to make a difference,” she says. It’s part of the reason she doesn’t consume conservative media — she doesn’t want to get discouraged. “It’s important to be optimistic,” she says. “If you don’t believe you’re making a difference, you could get really depressed and dejected.”

The strength of Elisabeth’s faith has enabled her to persevere through years of setbacks and defeat — seldom, if ever, with the support of her family. “My whole life — until just recently, I think — they thought I was going to end up a bag lady,” she says. Her faith gave her the necessary fearlessness to put her own children in harm’s way, whether by inviting fugitives into her home or taking medical supplies for the Vietnamese across the Canadian border with three sons in tow.

She says she never feared for the welfare of her children, in part because the government was “less inclined to give long sentences, “especially to young mothers. But her faith in her surrogate family — her fellow Quakers — also helped. In Quaker action groups “you are all pledged to support each other in any way you possibly can,” she says. It’s an approach Elisabeth brings to all of her undertakings. And it helps explain why the Raging Grannies sing. Their performance is an exhibition of their solidarity, an attempt to take setbacks and defeats in stride, and a willingness to make light of an all-too-serious struggle.

Elisabeth is not alone in believing that the Bush administration and its policies are evil. “I am hell bent on getting [Bush] out of the White House,” Ecklein says. “Those characters in the White House — they’re evil. They have got to go.” There is a temptation to ascribe to “the movement” the same “black or white” mentality that they deplore in Bush. But there is a difference.

With Bush’s belief that “events aren’t moved by blind change and chance” and that “behind all of life and all of history there’s a dedication and purpose, set by the hand of a just and faithful God,” his ascription of evil carries ultimate justification. “Bush’s faith offers no speed bumps on the road to Baghdad,” Joe Klein wrote in the February 18, 2003 issue of Time magazine. “The world might have more confidence in the judgment of this president if he weren’t always bathed in the blinding glare of his own certainty.”

Elisabeth and her “old school” colleagues believe in Bush’s evil to the same degree, but for them, the triumph of freedom over oppression and terror isn’t certain. It’s an idealized, unrealizable end. So the means matters. “It’s just going to be a fight to the end of my life, to the end of your life,” Ecklein says. “It’s just going to be a fight, that’s all.”

During rush hour on Tuesday afternoons, in the shadow of the Hancock Tower in Boston’s Copley Square, UJP members hold signs opposing Bush administration policies and try — with limited success — to engage passersby in conversation. The “vigil,” as they call it, began in late 1998 and continued through the Iraq war and the coldest winter in memory. Elisabeth bought a warm winter coat and attended religiously. She still does.

As for the future, if Bush is unseated in the upcoming election, student participation may wane. But it’s unlikely that Elisabeth will lay down her placard and take up quilting. And she won’t waste much time celebrating. She’ll keep “plowing along.”

It couldn’t be any other way.  

STORY INDEX

ORGANIZATIONS >

American Friends Service Committee
Based in Philadelphia.
URL: http://www.afsc.org

Carleton College
Based in Northfield, Minnesota.
URL: http://www.carleton.edu

FBI
Based in Washington.
URL: http://www.fbi.gov

Massachusetts Peace Action
Peace organization based in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
URL: http://www.gis.net/~masspa/

NPR
National Public Radio. Based in Washington.
URL: http://www.npr.org

Raging Grannies
Based in Boston.
URL: http://www.wilpfboston.org/raging.html

United for Justice with Peace
Boston-based peace organization.
URL: http://www.justicewithpeace.org

United for Peace and Justice
International peace organization. Headquarters in New York.
URL: http://www.unitedforpeace.org

Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom
Boston-area website for the international organization.
URL: http://www.wilpfboston.org

PEOPLE > BERRIGAN, DANIEL >

Biography
Brief biography at Biography.com.
URL: http://search.biography.com/print_record.pl?id=12777

PEOPLE > BUSH, GEORGE W. >

“Remarks by the President at National Prayer Breakfast”
Official White House transcript of the National Prayer Breakfast 2001. February 1, 2001.
URL: http://www.whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2001/02/20010201.html

PEOPLE > RUMSFELD, DONALD >

“Secretary Rumsfeld Interview with CNBC”
Official Department of Defense transcript. From CNBC’s Capital Report. March 6, 2003.
URL: http://www.dod.gov/news/Mar2003/t03072003_t0306sdcnbc.html

TOPICS > COINTELPRO >

COINTELPRO
Unofficial website.
URL: http://www.cointel.org

 

The other side of Lawrence

BEST OF INTERACT 2003

A Supreme Court victory may turn out to be the gay community's death knell.

I don’t remember where I was when the Bowers v. Hardwick decision was handed down in 1986. I had not come out yet, but I do recall seeing protests on the news from my family’s living room in Wilmington, North Carolina. It would take me a few years to realize the significance of the decision on every aspect of gay life. By upholding a Georgia statute that outlawed consensual sodomy, the Supreme Court denied gays and lesbians any constitutional right to privacy in even the most intimate matters. Put into historical context–in the midst of the Reagan era and the full force of anti-AIDS homophobia–the opinion was hardly surprising.

On the morning of June 26, I woke to the sound of my radio alarm and the voice of an NPR news announcer, who said that Bowers v. Hardwick was no longer the law of the land. The Supreme Court had reversed itself in a sweeping decision, Lawrence v. Texas, that stunned court watchers across the country.

The Court could have taken the easy way out. In her concurring opinion, Justice Sandra Day O’Connor called for striking down the offending law–a Texas anti-sodomy statute–because it violated the equal protection rights of homosexuals (as acknowledged in the Evans decision back in 1995). But Justice Anthony Kennedy’s majority opinion went much farther, reviving the court’s dying concern for personal privacy and handing queers a monumental legal and political victory.

I applaud the Court for having the courage to correct its own mistake. The Lawrence decision is worthy of celebration, especially by those who have fought for the last seventeen years to overturn Bowers. Yet what disquiets me is the lack of debate about what the decision means for the queer community, culturally speaking. To read most of the queer press, you would get the impression that the Lawrence decision will have no negative consequences at all and it is up, up, up from here.

One thing is for certain: The Lawrence decision firmly establishes our place in the firmament of protected classes and sets the stage for the scuttling of laws against gay adoption, military service, and perhaps even marriage. We can leave behind our sequins and sexual liberation, and say begone to our urban, childless existence. Soon we can be as clueless about art and activism as Joe Sixpack and Sally Housecoat.

The danger of backsliding is real. Lawrence may mean the acceleration of what has become the gay community’s steady, incontrovertible course since the 1980s: assimilation. That assimilation is the primary goal of gay liberation is, for the most part, unquestioned. Those who agitate against it–like the group Gay Shame in San Francisco–are painted as fringe wackos who only want to spoil our gay old time.  

In the 1980s, AIDS and a conservative political climate created a schism in the queer community between the more radical approach of AIDS activists and the more sedate political activities of gay groups trying desperately to advance gay rights legislation in spite of AIDS. Queer Nation attempted to take the radical tactics of AIDS activists and use them to advance the visibility of queers and queer issues. But the nineties saw the decline of AIDS activism and Queer Nation and the rise of more mainstream and conservative gay groups, such as Human Rights Campaign (HRC) and the Log Cabin Republicans, and the ascent of assimilation-related issues–for instance, military service and marriage–to the top of the gay political agenda.  

Once Bill Clinton mentioned us in a political speech during his first run for president, the process of de-revolution” was complete: The gay community had become a player in mainstream politics. Gay conservative writer Bruce Bawer got his place at the table and gays were just happy with any political crumbs that were tossed their way.

With assimilation as our goal, we became a victim of our own success. Each victory created a more comfortable, accepting atmosphere for all to come out, finally resulting in a mass exodus by the last group to leave the closet: political conservatives. By moving the community to the right, we experienced a further loss of activist fervor and less support for issues like environmentalism, feminism, racial equality, and labor. While coming out is still a revolutionary act, for many it is the only one they will ever commit.

An examination of exit poll data over the last decade further illustrates our political drift to the right. According to the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force, a quarter of queer voters supported Republican congressional candidates in 1992; in 1998, that support had risen to one-third. The Log Cabin Republicans celebrated the fact that 25 percent of gay voters cast a ballot for George W. Bush in 2000, the highest percentage for a GOP presidential candidate ever. And the actual conservative numbers are probably much higher considering that most gay conservatives are less likely to feel comfortable admitting their homosexuality to exit pollsters.

Some would argue that the decrease in political fervor is only natural, now that we have gotten much of what we wanted, and there are few fights left to fight. But even if you think environmental, feminist, class, and racial issues are outside the purview of queer politics, internationally the queer rights movement is just beginning. After all, gays and lesbians in many countries are still subject to the death penalty for merely existing.

But if the queer community in the United States does recognize that a world exists outside our borders, you can’t tell it by our actions. Except for the admirable work of the International Gay and Lesbian Human Rights Commission (IGLHRC), which gets no attention in the mainstream gay press, little is being done to change the situation abroad.

Our community’s growing desire to assimilate affects not just our politics, but also our culture. Even as we gays and lesbians have influenced the culture of the larger society, mainstream American culture has had a diluting effect on us. Gay culture has been replaced with gay consumer culture.

Now that being gay will not lead to mainstream rejection per se, gay and lesbian artists can now be openly gay and pander to the mainstream–but at what price? In our consumer-oriented society, we abandon the queer aesthetic to increase sales. The music of Sylvester, Bronski Beat, and the in-your-face homosexuality of Pansy Division has given way to George Michael, Melissa Etheridge, and the almost apologetic homosexuality of Elton John. AIDS was once an important political issue for queer artists–embodied in the work of Keith Haring, Marlon Riggs, Tony Kushner, and Larry Kramer–but nowadays that and other kinds of politically infused queer art are on the decline. AIDS reinforced the role of gay men as cultural outsiders and was celebrated by gay men (and lesbians) in theater, visual arts, performance art, and literature. Imagine Keith Haring’s provocative work being used to sell Volkswagens back in 1985. Imagine Keith Haring allowing it.  

Today, politically charged art is the exception in the gay community rather than the rule. For every Laramie Project (a play about the murder of Matthew Shepard), you have ten plays where the story seems merely an excuse for male nudity. Nudity as a means of making a socio-political statement about gender has been replaced with naked boys for the sake of naked boys, a neoconservative celebration of sexual attraction within the context of good-old-fashioned, atavistic objectification: sex not as political statement but as consumer activity.  

Surveying the current queer political and artistic landscape is most disheartening because it is unlikely to change for the better. The last few decades have seen a growing anti-intellectualism in this country, resulting in an American society that does not like to be challenged or think critically, especially about itself. And this is one pernicious characteristic that the queer community has adopted. I have friends who refuse to question any decisions made by local queer leaders. This “we-must-support-the-troops” mentality is no prettier to gaze upon among gays than it is in the larger society. If objective, critical thinking is a crucial aspect of good art, then it is no small wonder that American culture, and by extension queer culture, is experiencing an artistic famine.

Perhaps queer culture is merely a transient state of being–a roadstop on the way from historically denied existence to complete mainstream cultural absorption. But there is no reason that members of an oppressed group cannot work to eradicate barriers to their full participation in the larger society while refusing to surrender their cultural identity. There is no reason that we in the gay community should exchange our hard-won political awareness for something we should have had all along: freedom.

STORY INDEX

ORGANIZATIONS >
  
  

  International Gay and Lesbian Human Rights Commission
  An organization that lobbies around the world on behalf of gay rights.
  URL: http://www.iglhrc.org            
    
  National Gay and Lesbian Task Force
  Washington-based organization working for the civil rights of gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people.
  URL: http://www.ngltf.org
  

 

Not on my watch

Can A Problem From Hell make stopping genocide a priority?

Can one writer single-handedly compel the world’s strongest nation to inject greater concern for human rights into its foreign policy? Thirty-three-year-old Samantha Power set out to do exactly that in her Pulitzer prize-winning book, A Problem From Hell, which chronicles the indifference of the world’s more powerful nations, particularly the United States, to genocide in the twentieth century.  

Power was a war correspondent in Bosnia in the mid-1990s and was frustrated at how little impact the horrific stories that she and her colleagues wrote about Serb atrocities had on U.S. policy-making. Her book both seeks to explain the reasons for this inaction and to indict the responsible policy-makers for their indifference. Through cases studies of many of these slaughters–the Turks’ 1915 decimation of the Armenians, the Holocaust, the Khmer Rouge’s wipeout of 30 percent of the Cambodian people, Saddam Hussein’s gassing of the Kurds, the Hutu murder of 800,000 Tutsis in Rwanda, and Serbian ethnic cleansing in Bosnia and Kosovo–Power demonstrates how the United States has consistently failed to respond to these massive human tragedies.  

By carefully documenting what policy-makers knew and when–even with the primitive technology available in 1915, The New York Times ran 145 stories about the killings of the Armenians–she removes the central rationalization for inaction. That the oft-heard post-Holocaust promise of never again” can co-exist alongside this record of non-intervention Power views as rank hypocrisy. Indeed, as she quotes writer David Rieff, “never again” might best be defined as, “Never again would Germans kill Jews in Europe in the 1940s.”

Less a work of original scholarship than a carefully researched and arrestingly written call to arms, Power’s book is clearly intended to jolt the world, and particularly U.S. policy-makers, into greater action in the future. And for a book that was dropped as too macabre by its original publisher, Random House, and one that was for a time refused by all the publishers in New York, it has made a remarkable splash. Former U.N. Ambassador Richard Holbrooke bought forty-five copies and distributed it widely, including one to U.N. Secretary-General Kofi Annan. After she published an article in The Atlantic in 2001 about governmental inaction in Rwanda, a memo summarizing the argument was given to President Bush, who wrote on it, “NOT ON MY WATCH.” If Power’s goal was to get prevention of genocide on the radar screen of the nation and the world’s most powerful people, the book is a rousing success.

Rhetoric and reality

How or whether these words translate to action, of course, is another matter. Judging from Power’s own description of the past, vague commitments to do the right thing are a dime a dozen, whereas a willingness to expend political capital, disrupt alliances, or risk soldiers is less likely than a Red Sox World Series championship. These past episodes of genocide did not suffer from a lack of idealistic academics, muckrakers in the press, or committed congressional staffers trying to raise the issue. These people are the tragic heroes of Power’s book, and their stories bear retelling.  

First among them was Raphael Lemkin, a Polish-Jewish legal academic, who invented the term genocide in 1945 to ensure that there was a single term that would distinctively capture the horrors perpetrated by Hitler against the Jews (including Lemkin’s family) and by the Turks against the Armenians. Lemkin spent much of his remaining years pushing the U.N. Genocide convention, first at the United Nations, where it passed in 1948, and then trying to get the domestic legislatures of the various countries to sign off. Lemkin worked himself to the bone–living off donations, haunting halls around the world where genocide was being debated–and died penniless in 1959.  

Others since have worked with equal fervor and disregard to their personal health, specifically Senate staffer Peter Galbraith’s unauthorized (and unprotected) trip to Iraq in 1991 that documented the Iraqis’ murderous repression of the Kurdish uprising. But despite the sympathy that Power evokes for Lemkin, Galbraith, and the various others who tried to bring genocide to the fore, the dominant message of her story is how these valiant efforts have been overwhelmed by the forces arrayed against them. There is a deep irony in Power carrying on their mission in large part by cataloging their failures.  

Specifically, two familiar and unchanging factors of the American political system consistently doomed their efforts: 1) a foreign policy that prioritizes national self-interest (generally defined as winning the Cold War for most of the period Power covers), and 2) a pluralist political system that is most responsive to organized and/or well-financed interests. Politicians, in turn, recognize that they do not have the domestic backing for interventions even if they are so inclined, and thus develop a variety of ways to downplay the horrors: by avoiding the use of the word “genocide” (Rwanda), by portraying the conflicts as ancient multi-sided ethnic struggles instead of as genocide (Bosnia), and by justifying state killings as a legitimate means of political repression against an insurgent group (Cambodia, Iraq).  

It is not that the American political system doesn’t work, Power ruefully concludes–it is that it works too well in representing American interests that are narrowly defined. As one reviewer pointed out, a foreign policy realist might wonder not why the United States does not generally intervene to prevent genocide, but rather why it ever would.  

Facing this climate, perhaps all that Power’s work could hope to do is stir the moral outrage that might bring about the political pressure to act against genocide. Indeed, Power recounts that National Security Adviser Anthony Lake told Human Rights Watch two weeks into the Rwandan genocide to “Make more noise!” Power’s book makes a lot of noise. But the noise comes at the price of some needed clarity, particularly in a newly constituted world where the wiping out of (selected) previously genocidal regimes is now claimed to be part of a more broadly defined set of national interests. The questions that Power avoids are ones that have become the paramount ones in this new world. What kind of human-rights violations are significant enough to override state sovereignty? Does it matter whether the intervention is unilateral or multilateral? Does it matter whether the genocide is in the past or on going? Power provides a devastating critique of the consequences of inaction, but does not specify the criteria for when it is appropriate to act.  

Indeed, some have even claimed that left-leaning critics’ cry about genocide in the 1990s–and the American-driven NATO bombings of Bosnia in 1995 and Kosovo in 1999–paved the road for Bush to declare preemptive war against Iraq in the new century. Writing in the London Review of Books, Stephen Holmes argued that “the 1990s advocates of humanitarian intervention have…helped rescue from the ashes of Vietnam the ideal of America as a global policeman, undaunted by other countries’ borders, defending civilisation against the forces of ‘evil’. By denouncing the U.S. primarily for standing idly by when atrocity abroad occurs, they have helped repopularise the idea of America as a potentially benign imperial power.” Holmes notes that key Bush administration unilateralist hawks Paul Wolfowitz and Richard Perle were among those who supported the interventions in Bosnia and Kosovo outside of the U.N. framework. In Holmes’ view, Power has “bequeathed a risky legacy” to the current administration through her endorsement of American-led, unilateral if necessary, intervention to protect human rights.  

We can’t place responsibility for the Iraq war on Power’s shoulders. No one has yet claimed that she is part of Bush’s Straussian “cabal,” and there is nothing in A Problem From Hell that suggests she would not have supported it. In large part, this is because at the time the book was written, after a century of American shirking of responsibility, the danger of too much intervention was not even a possibility.  

But there is another reason as well. Because Power’s primary goal was to motivate complacent policy-makers and a dormant public to greater concern for the victims of genocide, the book does not spend any time exploring the underlying issue of when it is or is not appropriate to intervene. Rather than try to reason us into some kind of consensus about when intervention is morally required, she begins by presenting us the death of nine-year-old girl in Sarajevo at the hands of a Serbian shell and then dares the reader to rationalize permitting genocide.  

This is by no means an uncontestable point. Even the leading just-war theorist on the left, Michael Walzer, sees genocide occurring within a state as a sufficient justification for war, but not one that imposes a duty on other powers to intervene. But to enter into this philosophical dialogue would detract from the book’s moral clarity that is its greatest strength. In other words, by choosing to take the crucial question of whether it is appropriate to intervene and positing it as a given, Power simultaneously gives her work a kind of punch it would not otherwise have had and leaves herself unable to deal with the changed problems posed in the new century.

The dithering and the messianic

In a more recent piece in The New Republic, Power takes a more analytical approach, and begins to diagram her view of what a foreign policy committed to human rights might look like. She tries to steer a middle course between the dithering, power-averse, “We can all get along” Clinton foreign policy of the 1990s, and the messianic, power-loving, “You’re with us or against us” Bush foreign policy of the past two years. Clinton’s strategy she derides as impotent and naïve about the ways of the world; Bush is overly cocksure and he unnecessarily alienates countries that should be allies. She favors the stated Clinton policy of acting “multilaterally when we can and unilaterally when we must” over the Bush administration’s implied policy of acting unilaterally when we can and multilaterally when we must.  

But more than the United States’ unilateralism, what bothers Powers is what she neatly labels its “a la cartism”–the mishmash of foreign policies that indicates to the rest of the world that the United States is only interested in human rights when it is otherwise convenient. To bomb Kosovo but to ignore Chechnya, and to gripe about the lack of democracy in Palestine but not in Pakistan, invites cynicism from the rest of the world when America claims to be acting on the basis of human rights in Iraq. (Not to mention the fact that, as Power points out, U.S. aid to Iraq doubled the year after Hussein gassed the Kurds.)  

Power would prefer the United States to come clean and acknowledge all of the black marks on its past record. Going forward, she argues that preventing genocide is only one part of a larger set of goals concerning human rights. For that reason, she suggests that human rights should be a stated consideration in all foreign policy decisions, including those that on the surface have little to do with human rights. Each treaty, photo-op and oil contract should be considered in light of its human rights implications.  

Knowing that it is naïve to argue for troop deployments too often, Power wants the United States use its entire toolbox of options (sanctions, moral censure, diplomatic pressure) to avert human rights abuses. Power argues that such a policy would be morally consistent, and would make the United States more attractive to the allies it needs in its war on terrorism. The battle to convince our allies over Iraq, Power avers, was less a battle over the nature of the Iraqi regime than it was one over the character of the U.S. regime. A foreign policy that consistently makes human rights central would not only be right, it would protect national interests by projecting an image of America that would be harder for terrorists to demonize and easier for allies to embrace.  

Power’s vision is difficult to evaluate responsibly, in large part because it rests upon a set of propositions about how others would react to a hypothetical foreign policy. But at least it is a vision–a way of drawing lines is at least somewhat realistically grounded in the ways of the world, but still idealistic in its aims. More context-specific than abstract concepts like just war theory, but more consistent and principled than a case-by-case approach, Power has articulated the kind of middle-range paradigm that is sorely needed to help us think about foreign policy in the post-September 11 world.  

As liberal intellectual George Packer has pointed out, the terms of the public debate over Iraq pushed liberals into an uncomfortable ambivalence: While they saw preemption as a dangerous precedent, thought war should still be a last resort, and distrusted the Bush administration’s motives, they were left defending a status quo that resulted in severe repression and was opposed by the majority of the Iraqi people. Power’s paradigm recasts the debate in a way that allows liberals to recapture their defining idealism by committing to a broader vision of protecting human rights, without being drawn into the dangers of preemptive war.

In the long run, creating this kind of middle-range paradigm may prove an even more powerful way of meeting Power’s ultimate objective of injecting concern for human rights into American foreign policy. The role played by Wolfowitz, William Kristol, and others, who have been outlining the case for war with Iraq since at least the mid-1990s, is only the most recent example of how idea-people can radically remake the world. As the Democratic presidential candidates mumble vaguely about the importance of strength, brag about past service, or join the reflexive anti-war left, it is striking how comparatively unprepared they are to articulate a vision for how to responsibly deploy American power in a world filled with terrorists and human rights abusers.  

To be sure, there can never be too few voices making noise about genocide. Even now, as the wars in Liberia and the Congo hang precipitously on the edge of the radar of the Western world, Power’s voice rings daily in my ears, reminding me that civil war is not an excuse for inaction if genocide is going on, and that history will judge us badly if we turn away. But it is also true that noise is not the only way to make change, and that the attacks of September 11 have made this a critical branching moment for the future of U.S. foreign policy, one that is just waiting for an intelligent paradigm to counter Bush’s simplistic preemption doctrine. We can only hope that Power, or someone with similar knowledge and commitment to human rights, will step in to fill the void.”

 

A walk in the dark

Photographs and notes from a long walk home during the Blackout of 2003.

Click here to enter the visual essay.

On Thursday, August 14, starting at 4:10 p.m., twenty-one power plants in the Northeast and Midwest shut down in a span of three minutes. Energy grids quickly dried up, computer screens shut off, and lights fizzled as millions of Americans suddenly found themselves without power.

This collection of photographs documents a seven-hour, six-mile walk home from 60th Street in Manhattan to Eastern Parkway in Brooklyn.

 

Por los ojos

BEST OF IMAGE 2003

Down a road in Central America, eyeing each other.

Click here to enter the visual essay.

There are storytellers who speak from the third person like gods with the omniscience of distance. The images in Por los ojos” are not of this type. They are face-to-face and first person. By way of a gaze we enter into the story of Nicas, Guanacos, Chapines, Catrachos, and Mexicanos encountered along the road.”

 

500 channels (and nothing on)

The FCC has dealt a major blow to diversity on our airwaves.

It might not seem like the sexiest story, but the Federal Communications Commission’s decision last week to loosen restrictions on media consolidation and monopoly is arguably one of the most important developments of our day. It is a major blow for those who want diverse viewpoints represented on our airwaves, in our newspapers, and throughout our ‘Net. The decision guts consumer protections put in place between 1945 and 1975 to foster competition and prevent monopoly control of the media. Under the new rules, a single company can keep buying TV stations until it reaches 45 percent of American households; previously, the cap was set at 35 percent. The decision also weakens two important regulations that prevented monopolies in local media markets. One banned the ownership of multiple TV stations in a single market (in the largest cities, a company is now allowed to own up to three TV stations). The other prevented a company from owning a broadcast station and a newspaper in a single city (under the new rules, only in markets with three or fewer TV stations would this “cross-ownership” ban still be in effect).

What does all this mean? Thanks to the rule changes, media giants like News Corp., Viacom, and Gannett will be able to control even more TV stations, newspapers, and radio stations across the country. “We are moving to a world where in larger markets one owner can combine the cable system, three television stations, eight radio stations, the dominant newspaper, and the leading Internet provider, not to mention cable networks, magazine publishers and programming studios which could produce the vast bulk of the programming available to those outlets”, said dissenting FCC Commissioner Michael J. Copps, in a statement released last week. “In my view, it is no exaggeration to say the rules now permit the emergence of a Twenty-First Century Citizen Kane on the local level, with perhaps a handful of Citizen Kanes on the national level.”

What made the decision so extraordinary was that it was made even as a broad coalition of citizens groups–conservative and liberal–rallied against it. Groups from the National Organization of Women to the National Rifle Association said that more consolidation would keep their opinions off the air and put too much power in the hands of a few already bloated corporations. Consumer advocates joined with small broadcasters, civil rights organizations joined with religious groups–denouncing as a chorus the relaxation of restrictions on “cross-ownership”, which they said would discourage news organizations from monitoring each other’s reporting and narrow the range of opinions presented for public consumption.

Conservative columnist William Safire went so far a to call the decision a “power grab” by the rich and powerful. “The concentration of power–political, corporate, media, cultural–should be anathema to conservatives”, he wrote last month in The New York Times. “Why do we have more channels but fewer real choices today? Because the ownership of our means of communication is shrinking. Moguls glory in amalgamation, but more individuals than they realize resent the loss of local control and community identity.”

Safire and others also complained that the FCC failed to take seriously the public’s opinion about whether to loosen the existing regulations. As it turned out, the FCC received a record number of comments from the public–almost three quarters of a million. “Nearly all oppose increased media consolidation–over 99.9 percent,” said Copps in his statement last week. “The spirit underlying the ‘notice and comment’ procedure of independent agencies is that important proposed changes need to be seen and vetted before they are voted. We haven’t been true to that spirit. Today we vote before we vet.”

Media conglomerates like Walt Disney Co. (owner of ABC) and News Corp. (owner of the Fox News Channel and Fox TV network) argued that the changes were needed because the dramatic growth of cable television, the Internet, and satellite TV had dramatically changed the industry. The free programming that networks like ABC and CBS have offered for decades could be in jeopardy, they argued, if these companies were not provided with more flexibility to make profits.

FCC Chairperson Powell, the son of Secretary of State Colin Powell, also pointed out that changing the rules was the only way to save them. The U.S. Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit had in recent years shot down several of the agency’s ownership rules, saying they were unjustified under present law. In fact, the 35-percent cap on TV station ownership that consumer advocates wanted kept in place had been unenforceable since 2001, when it was remanded by the court. “Keeping the rules exactly as they are, as some so stridently suggest, was not a viable option,” Powell said in a statement last week announcing the new rules.

But even if it’s true that reform was necessary, it does not follow that the FCC needed to stage a corporate coup d’etat of the likes of last week’s decision. For one thing, the arguments by large media companies that they need more flexibility to make profits is simply ludicrous. TV stations boast annual profit margins in the range of 20 to 50 percent, an astounding figure even in an industry as profitable as media. Just last month, a record $9.4 billion in upfront sales was purchased for the next season of network advertising, up 13 percent from the previous year.

Then there is the more troubling question of how relaxing regulations on media ownership in this day and age actually serves the public interest. After all, the changes that the FCC put in place last week threaten the two things that are crucial for healthy public debate: localism and diversity.

“I think we put into jeopardy a system that is reliant on local views and divergent thought,” Ben Turner, president of Fisher Broadcasting, told The Washington Post. Based in Seattle and broadcasting throughout the Pacific Northwest, Fisher Broadcasting is a medium-sized media company. Though the FCC insisted that the rule changes would encourage competition and help small broadcasters, Turner believes that the opposite is true. Local coverage will suffer, he says, as large companies buy up local TV stations and slash programming budgets. “The more power you give a few companies, the less opportunity you are going to have for a lot of divergent thought at the local level as a countercheck to network programming.”

Supporters of the relaxed regulations say that an open, unregulated market leads to a diversity of viewpoints. They point to the explosion of cable TV channels in recent years as evidence for this. But there’s reason to be suspicious of the claim. Remember that song by Bruce Springsteen, “57 Channels (And Nothing On)”? Having lots of options means little if the “options” are all the same. And as it turns out, almost all the top cable channels are owned by the same corporations that own the TV networks and cable systems. As for the programming that fills these airwaves and cable streams, the networks have substantially increased the amount that they own over the last decade–thanks to the absence of any restrictions on who owns programming. And so we’re left with hundreds of channels, thousands of media outlets–and the same mindless, formulaic shows. “A person can always add more electrical outlets throughout their home, but that doesn’t mean they will get their electricity from new sources. The same goes for media outlets,” said FCC Commissioner Jonathan S. Adelstein, who also voted against last week’s rule changes.

Perhaps we should look at what happened after a similar attempt to “encourage competition” in 1996, when Congress and the FCC decided to roll back regulations on the radio industry. What followed was a frenzy of corporate consolidation. “We saw a 34 percent reduction in the number of radio station owners,” Copps says. “Diversity of programming suffered. Homogenized music and standardized programming crowded out local and regional talent. Creative local artists found it evermore difficult to obtain play time.” And instead of encouraging a variety of viewpoints, the rapid consolidation of the radio industry has further “polarized” editorial opinion, Copps says. Consider the recent political activities of the country’s largest radio conglomerate, Clear Channel Communications. In 1995, it owned 43 radio stations; today it owns more than 1,200. Critics of the radio giant allege that it has used its clout to further its own political causes–promoting pro-war rallies during the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq, and keeping critics of the war, like the Dixie Chicks, off of its play lists.

The FCC’s new rules endanger diversity in another way. Those individuals who usually have the most difficulty getting their point of view out into the public arena–people of color, rural Americans, gays and lesbians–will find their task even harder. In a further deregulated marketplace, the (few) small media companies that aren’t interested in selling their stations will quickly be pushed out of business by the media giants. Since minorities tend to be at the helm of these smaller media companies, this effectively means they will be shut out of media ownership.

As it is now, less than four percent of radio and television owners are people of color. According to the National Association of Black Owned Broadcasters, the number of minority owners of broadcast facilities has dropped by 14 percent since 1997. Fearing that the FCC’s revised regulations would make this grim picture even worse, the Congressional Black, Hispanic, and Asian Pacific American caucuses on Capitol Hill all came out against last week’s decision.

For those who believed that the ‘Net might be the salvation of diversity in American media, think again: Almost a decade after the online revolution began, the top news sources are controlled by the same media giants who dominate radio, TV, newspapers, and cable. The new FCC regulations do little to stop the consolidation going on in our last bastion of media democracy–a consolidation that the agency has, in fact, encouraged over the past year. For instance, the FCC earlier this year gave regional phone companies the power to deny other companies access to their high-speed data pipelines. “This basically mirrored earlier policies allowing the cable companies, which also created networks by getting government-granted monopolies, to refuse to share access to their lines,” writes tech columnist Dan Gillmor in the San Jose Mercury News. “In other words, U.S. high-speed data access will soon be under the thumb of two of the most anti-competitive industries around.”

Fortunately, last week’s decision has not ended the public debate over how to regulate the media industry. The remarkable coalition of conservative and liberal groups that tried in vain to win over Powell’s commission is now putting pressure on lawmakers in Congress. So far, they’ve had some luck in the Senate, where Democrats and quite a few Republicans (including Mississippi Senator Trent Lott) have taken up the cause. Last week, Democratic Senator John F. Kerry of Massachusetts said he would file a “resolution of disapproval” to block the FCC’s rule changes, and Republican Senator Ted Stevens of Alaska introduced a bill to return the ownership cap to 35 percent. Even if it passes the Senate, however, the legislation will still need to pass muster in the House, where Republicans have an even heftier majority and the leadership has taken a more hostile attitude toward any additional regulations.

Much hangs in the balance. Mass media has always been the fabric of our sprawling democracy, allowing for public debate across a vast nation and making possible the very idea of government “by the people.” But now that control over the media is falling into the hands of a few, that debate–and that democracy–are in jeopardy.

If we do nothing to stop the federal government’s mad dash away from the public interest, the future that lies before us is grim indeed. At best, we will be served up ever larger helpings of the processed, formulaic, and focused-grouped content that we’ve grown to abhor on our evening news and prime-time TV; at worst, we will witness the corruption of our democracy, as media conglomerates silence local voices and limit the boundaries of public debate. At a time when the media already shapes so many of our perceptions of the world beyond our living rooms, the nightmare scenario might as well as be something out of The Matrix: a  “virtual” reality where everything we know, everything we think, has been packaged for our consumption by a few multinational corporations. Impossible, you say? I hope you’ll prove me wrong, and raise your voice before it’s drowned out.”

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

Free at last

Saying goodbye to that nettlesome question: Is it the French Quarter, or the Freedom Quarter?

No one could have been more relieved than I was to see George W. Bush make nice with French President Jacques Chirac. The olive branch he extended during last week’s G-8 summit in Evian, France–though frail–appears to have improved relations. Hopefully it’ll make it easier to have a French last name and to respect my home state again.

When freedom became the name of battered toast and fried pieces of potato, I expected Louisiana to be above the anti-French movement. After all, French culture is more prevalent here than in just about any other state. This has been the case ever since 1682, when Frenchman Rene’-Robert Cavalier arrived in the Mississippi River valley and declared it the territory of France (naming it “Louisiane” in honor of Louis XIV). Louisiana was sold to the Americans in 1803, but the French influence on its way of life has persisted. In fact, in my hometown of New Orleans, the city’s Francophile ways have become the cornerstone of its most important industry, tourism: Every year, revelers from around the world are drawn to the city by its distinct blend of French culture served up with American attitude.

But when French President Chirac openly opposed the U.S.-led effort to invade Iraq last spring, all things French suddenly became suspect. Bottles of French wine bled into sewers; French flags burned. The backlash reached its peak in mid-March, when Republican lawmakers in the U.S. House of Representatives decided to stage their own culinary coup–purging the menus in their cafeterias of French-named foods and putting “freedom fries” and “freedom toast” in their place.

Given its close ties to France, I was optimistic that the same thing would not happen in Louisiana. A state that packaged and sold its French influence like its seafood would be more mindful of stirring the waters of French denunciation, I thought.

I was wrong. Rather than trying to soothe the tensions brewing on both sides of the Atlantic, Louisianans quickly went on the attack–against France. Politicians condemned the French in ringing tones, even as they continued to market their Mardi Gras events and old-fashioned French ways to tourists. The lowest blow came when Republican state representative A.G. Crowe drafted a resolution to strip Chirac of his invitation to attend the state’s bicentennial celebration of the Louisiana Purchase, which will be held in New Orleans this December (Bush and King Juan Carlos of Spain were also invited). “Through his unwillingness to support the United States and President Bush at this crucial time, Mr. Chirac has appeared to be ungrateful for the tremendous help and genuine friendship that the United States has given to France for many years, including during both World War I and World War II,” Crowe’s resolution read.

Even Louisiana’s governor, Mike Foster, came out in support of the resolution. The Republican repeatedly savaged France in public statements throughout the spring. “People are really fed up with France,” he said last March on his radio show. “We have good relationships with the French people. They must have slipped up and elected somebody who doesn’t like us.”

Slipped up? Chirac’s approval ratings in France exceeded 90 percent at the end of March, when the French leader was sharply criticizing the United States for invading Iraq. Does that mean the French do not like us? If that is true, then we Americans have a much bigger problem on our hands: Other countries that did not support the war must not like us, either.

Now I have my own opinions about the war, but I see no reason to single out France for condemnation. It is one of many countries that opposed the Iraq invasion. And regardless of whether I agree with the French government, I respect the right of others to make up their own minds. Isn’t such freedom of opinion at the heart of our First Amendment?

What our state’s politicians never realized as they were railing against France was that Louisianans were the ones who were going to suffer most from any transatlantic boycott. Louisianan culture is French culture. Should we stop speaking French on the bayou? Stop offering cafe’ au lait and beignets? Burn down New Orleans’ French Quarter–or just rename it the Freedom Quarter? Better yet, cancel Mardi Gras–that’ll really show France!

In a state struggling with high poverty rates and a stagnant economy, perhaps it would have made sense to stay in good standing with a country that employs 10,000 Louisianans and every year sends tens of thousands of tourists to our state–a country that before the war had been showing interest in investing in New Orleans. But some Louisianan politicians were too patriotic to carefully craft their sound bites on France.

Maybe now, though, things will get better. Maybe this recent meeting between Bush and Chirac will bring Louisiana’s politicians to their senses, so that they can concentrate on promoting our state’s economic development rather than crippling our international relationships. And now that some of the wartime emotions have subsided, maybe we Louisianans can start treating other people’s opinions with a little more understanding and respect.

After all, don’t people–even French people–have the freedom to think what they want? Or is freedom reserved for fried potatoes?”

personal stories. global issues.