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  • The Unbearable Centrism of Mainstream Documentaries

    ImageThe Obamas’ deal with Netflix is the culmination of a worrisome turn in contemporary documentary.

    Since the announcement in May of Former President Barack and First Lady Michelle Obama’s multi-year production deal to produce narrative and documentary films and series with Netflix, there has been remarkably little conversation about it. Admittedly, there isn’t any work to evaluate just yet, but the news does raise enormously important questions in and of itself.

    For example, isn’t it a bit hypocritical of the 44th President to be venturing into nonfiction media? As Washington Post media columnist Margaret Sullivan recently reminded readers, although he “once claimed that he would be the most transparent president ever,” Obama was in fact “no friend to press rights.” Arguing that President Trump’s “aggression against reporters and sources” follows “the blueprint drawn by Obama,” she cites the litany of reprehensible moves made by the latter’s Justice Department that clearly set very dangerous precedents — including subpoenaing reporters’ phone records, and applying legal pressure to those covering government leaks. In addition, as CNN’s Jake Tapper has pointed out, the Obama White House “used the Espionage Act to go after whistleblowers who leaked to journalists…more than all previous administrations combined.”

    Obama’s disdain for journalists was also apparent in his obvious preference for highly contrived public relations opportunities over actual news interviews. In a 2014 piece about the former President’s sit-downs with Zach Galifianakis, Charles Barkley, Bill Simmons, Steve Harvey, and Jon Stewart, the Washington Post’s Chris Cillizza quantified this disparity: “…Compare those appearances to the number of times Obama has sat down with more ‘traditional’ media outlets. The last time the Washington Post had an interview with Obama was in December 2009. The last time the New York Times had one was July 2013.” That same year, an analysis by the Columbia Journalism Review found a larger, more disconcerting pattern: “An exhaustive study of every official exchange Obama had with the press corps in 2014, supplemented by a review of daily press briefings and interviews with more than a dozen current and former correspondents and White House press secretaries, reveals a White House determined to conceal its workings from the press, and by extension, the public.”

    On top of his dreadful track record with the fourth estate, the former President’s status as the highest profile member of the Democratic Party raises further questions about any nonfiction work he and Mrs. Obama will be producing. Specifically: will it be Third Way propaganda dressed up as hard-hitting documentary?

    Speaking to the issue of potential bias at a recent Paley Center for Media event, Netflix’s chief content officer Ted Sarandos insisted that there would be “no political slant to [the Obamas’] programming.” But that can’t possibly be true: all art is political, implicitly or explicitly, whether we like it or not. What’s more, Sarandos is hardly a nonpartisan source of information here: he was a fundraiser for Obama’s 2012 reelection campaign, and is the spouse of Nicole Avant, the President’s Ambassador to the Bahamas from 2009 to 2011. So can we expect that the Obamas’ newly formed “Higher Ground Productions” will reflect the same values and positions advanced by his Administration, or not?

    Realistically speaking, we’re likely to get at least some New Democrat puffery repackaged as “streaming content.” As such, we shouldn’t hold our collective breath for substantive critical analysis in any of these forthcoming documentaries. Indeed, the very idea that the former President would rigorously question the party lines on things like American imperialism, criminal justice, immigration, surveillance and encryption policy, and drone warfare, let alone income inequality, is laughable. If House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi asserts, “We’re capitalists, and that’s just the way it is,” then why wouldn’t that be the a priori starting point of an Obama-produced documentary on, say, economic issues?

    That the Obamas’ Netflix deal seems to have gone largely uncriticized probably has something to do with how effectively we’ve been conditioned for such an eventuality: this development is the logical culmination of a centrist turn that has been taking place within mainstream documentary culture over the past few years.

    Now, it has long been the case, as Cinema Politica co-founder and Director of Programming Ezra Winton has observed, that “among documentaries concerned with socio-political issues and subjects, some tend toward a more populist, liberal and feel-good variety, such as Waiting for Superman (dir. Davis Guggenheim, 2010), while others tend to be more radical (in form and/or argument), and are inclined to challenge, implicate and confront (subjects and audiences), such as Kanehsatake: 270 Years of Resistance (dir. Alanis Obomsawin, 1993).” Increasingly, however, on the whole, we’re seeing far more of the former than the latter. Writer Daniel Glassman puts it well in another, more recent article for the Canadian documentary magazine Point of View: “Documentaries now prize story arc, sentiment and sanctimony over thorough investigation and argument; it’s not expected that they play any important role in the information ecosystem. Their purpose seems to be to preach to the choir: tepid left sentiments for tepid left audiences.” [Full disclose: Point of View’s editor, Marc Glassman, is one of the author’s professors at Ryerson University.]

    If there’s any doubt that what Winton calls “liberal consensus documentaries” have sucked far too much of the air out of their corner of the media landscape, consider how low the bar is currently set for documentary impact. In a recent piece for The Ringer about “this amazing golden era of documentary,” for example, Sean Fennessey says this about the two highest grossing documentaries of the year so far: “Together, [Betsy West and Julie Cohen’s RBG and Morgan Neville’s Won’t You Be My Neighbor?] make a pair of political moviegoing experiences — a history lesson about sincerity and an art project about the law — using totemic figures to make their points” (emphasis added). Not only is it worrying that two touchy-feely hagiographies — of Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg and children’s television host Fred Rogers, respectively — might pass for political cinema in 2018, but their politics are obstinately centrist and middlebrow.

    RBG, for instance, is a righteous paean to Ginsburg as a second-wave feminist icon that insists on seeing everything through rose-colored glasses. By way of example, in his review of the film for the A.V. Club, critic Ignatiy Vishnevetsky rightly notes that the reason “Ginsburg’s dissenting opinions…are much better known than her majorities” is because “her judicial stance has always been that of a pragmatist, a moderate, and a middle-of-the-road Democrat.” Unsurprisingly, then, RBG, has trouble “making a rousing appraisal of Ginsburg’s moderate record as the stuff of radical sainthood.” As he puts it, “centrism is still centrism, even when it’s dressed up with ‘Yas Queen’s and fire emojis.” Additionally, nowhere in the film do we find any critique whatsoever of things like the aged justice’s strategically high-risk choice to not retire during the Obama years, or her tone-deaf comments about Colin Kaepernick.

    Won’t You Be My Neighbor? does better by “Mister Rogers,” but has its issues too. For example, in the sentimental framing of its subject as a “lifelong registered Republican” whose work consistently cut against the grain of his party’s positions, the film (whether it means to or not) contributes to a dangerously wrongheaded fixation — specifically, what journalists Adam H. Johnson and Nima Shirazi have called “liberals’ obsession with the phantom reasonable Republican.” If anything, that’s the kind of preoccupation documentary media should be more ruthlessly interrogating, not propping up.

    And yet, the very same bill of goods is being sold in Peter Kunhardt’s treacly new HBO documentary John McCain: For Whom the Bell Tolls. The film “celebrates [the Arizona senator] as a relic of a past when ‘reaching across the aisle’ was still possible,” writes Matt Taibbi in his review for Rolling Stone. “[And its] extraordinary lineup of gushing interviewees — [George W.] Bush, [Henry] Kissinger, Bill Clinton, Barack Obama, Hillary Clinton, Joe Biden, John Kerry, etc. — is an implicit endorsement of this idea.” The Hollywood Reporter’s Inkoo Kang is quite right, though, when she says that the film’s “nostalgia for a more reasonable sort of Republican isn’t entirely earned.” For one thing, as Taibbi puts it, For Whom the Bell Tolls and McCain’s vision of bipartisanship really belongs to “the pre-Trump age when ‘the middle’ was still sought-after political territory, and the political class to which they all belong was not yet despised enough to make someone like Donald Trump a viable spite vote.” For another, as Kang notes, “McCain’s hawkish foreign-policy views…which barely get a mention, seem to assume that solutions are mainly to be found in an armory.”

     

    Appropriately enough, the centrist turn in mainstream documentaries is especially apparent when it comes to the issue of war. In his survey of the 2000-2010 decade for Cinema Scope, for instance, filmmaker Thom Andersen (who is best known for 2003’s Los Angeles Plays Itself) makes a special point of noting that, during the Iraq War, the American cinema “admirably [assumed] the role [that was] inexcusably abdicated by television.” Nieman Reports’ early praise on this front was even more specific: “Iraq war documentaries [filled] a press vacuum…[offering] alternative explanations for the war in Iraq and the news coverage of it, as well as [criticism] of the administration’s policies.” (emphasis added). Though not all of these works found an audience, it’s nonetheless worth remembering that some certainly did: Michael Moore’s 2004 opus Fahrenheit 9/11, for example, remains the highest grossing documentary of all time, and by an incredibly wide margin.

    Today, though, despite excellent work being done on the fringes, it’s far less clear that documentaries in the main are fulfilling the same essential, radical function that they did in the early 2000s. Worse still, the tenor has changed enough such that some projects are now even carrying water for apologists of the U.S.’s most divisive conflicts. The most obvious example here would be Ken Burns and Lynn Novick’s recent PBS series The Vietnam War, which was seen by a whopping 39 million viewers. Despite an adulatory reception from critics, it is, to be quite sure, a problematic work. In a post at Public Books, for example, College of the Holy Cross emeritus professor Jerry Lembcke points out that, among other things, “The Vietnam War echoes Jimmy Carter’s ‘mutual destruction’ thesis that Vietnam and the United States were equally damaged by the conflict,” and “in promoting healing instead of the search for truth,” it “offers misleading comforts.”

    In a report for Inside Higher Ed, Colleen Flaherty enumerates further criticisms voiced during “A Fateful Misunderstanding: A Discussion of the Film Documentary The Vietnam War,” a panel at this year’s annual meeting of the American Historical Association. Evidently, participating scholars’ major point of contention was that “the documentary [includes only] two trained historians with military credentials but otherwise [relies] on witnesses — mainly U.S. veterans and their families.” In addition, as Flaherty explains, Burns and Novick’s documentary “avoids overt judgments about policy decisions that led to and prolonged the war, and instead takes what panelists described as an ‘elegiac’ and ‘conciliatory’ tone.” Among other things, the article also describes University of Chicago historian Mark Philip Bradley finding fault with the filmmakers for “glossing over…previous U.S. military involvement in Asia” and “framing…the war as a ‘tragedy’ rather than a series of ‘immeasurable and irredeemable’ mistakes.” (Fittingly, The Vietnam War’s cringe-worthy opening lines — “It was begun in good faith by decent people, out of fateful misunderstandings, American overconfidence and Cold War miscalculation” — have received a good drubbing, including at least one snarky comment that went viral on Twitter.)

    There’s a good deal of image rehabilitation going on in Liz Garbus’s new Showtime series The Fourth Estate as well. A behind-the-scenes peek into the New York Times’ coverage of the Trump Administration’s first year, the series is, as Variety’s Owen Gleiberman observes, keenly focused on “the nuts and bolts of [their] news process.” Given that it’s four episodes of this (for a combined total of around four-and-a-half hours), it’s hard not to get the impression that Garbus sees the “Gray Lady” as the gold standard and our best journalistic defense against the current regime. But especially after the “paper of record’s” historically disastrous and unforgivable role in the run up to the Iraq War — to say nothing of more recent blunders — perhaps what it really needs is to be knocked off its pedestal. Indeed, in a mixed-to-negative review of the series for, of all publications, the New York Times, Maureen Ryan opines that “not talking to higher-ups about gaps, blind spots and stumbles comes off as a missed opportunity.”

    To be fair, Garbus was given astonishing access to the Times, and it’s generally not advisable to bite the hand that feeds you. At the same time, though, a choice of subject or way shaping a project can often betray a filmmaker’s particular biases or leanings. Because The Fourth Estate offers, in Ryan’s words, “almost no substantive examination” of “the things that really aggravate the paper’s critics” (i.e. “emphasis, omissions and the sheer tonnage of certain kinds of coverage”), it definitely feels like a documentary by and for “Times partisans” who more or less share the subjects’ “defensive mindset.”

    Still, perhaps no recent documentary is quite as in the tank for the cause of centrist liberals as Greg Barker’s The Final Year. Coming full circle, the film follows Former President Obama, Former Secretary Of State John Kerry, Former U.N. Ambassador Samantha Power, and Former Deputy National Security Advisor Ben Rhodes as they attend to various foreign policy matters in the months before the 2016 Election. Taking notice of the film’s “promotional quality,” Variety’s Scott Tobias writes in his review that “the Obama team was always expert at protecting and polishing its image, and the film happily acquiesces with a highlight reel of diplomatic missions.” But by the time we get to the ending that clearly neither Barker nor the Obama White House were expecting, the limitations of not only The Final Year’s approach but its subjects’ ethos have become painfully obvious to the viewer. As Chuck Bowen puts it in his review for Slant Magazine, “the film smugly bolsters a cliché of the Democratic Party: obsessed by symbolism and decorum, it misses the sea change in plain sight, and seems terrifyingly unable and unwilling to question its direction, message, and salesmanship.”

    Broadly speaking, this is a salient point for mainstream documentary culture to consider,  as it’s very far from clear that the centrist turn is making inroads with audiences. For example, in an article from June about RBG and Won’t You Be My Neighbor? as “surprise hits,” the New York Times included an important caveat from IndieWire’s Tom Brueggemann. Putting things into perspective, he noted that their box offices performances, at that point, paled in comparison to the films of odious conservative commentator Dinesh D’Souza: 2012’s 2016: Obama’s America ($33.4 million), 2014’s America: Imagine the World Without Her ($14.4 million), and 2016’s Hillary’s America: The Secret History of the Democratic Party ($13 million). As of this article’s writing, however, both RBG and Won’t You Be My Neighbor? have outgrossed Hillary’s AmericaRBG, though, is still trailing behind America, and both still have quite a bit of work to do before they catch up to 2016.

    But, of course, documentaries don’t just exist on the center-to-far-right spectrum. Though they may get overshadowed by this more narrow range of work, there are what Winton calls “radically-committed documentaries” being made both within and without the mainstream. His aforementioned nonprofit Cinema Politica, for example, “supports and screens alternative, independent, and radical political film and video” through its “network of community and campus locals.” They offer a curated, subscription-based streaming service that greatly expands the audience for such work as well.

    The work of Laura Poitras is also about as radically-committed as you can get: even before her jaw-dropping 2014 Edward Snowden documentary CITIZENFOUR, she found herself unjustly placed on the Department of Homeland Security’s watchlist for 2006’s My Country, My Country, a revealing look inside U.S.-occupied Iraq. Moreover, her “filmmaker-driven documentary unit” Field of Vision, which “commissions and creates” short works, has quickly distinguished itself as one of our most thrilling and vital platforms for documentary filmmaking. In addition, Ava DuVernay’s Oscar-nominated 13th and Brett Story’s critically acclaimed The Prison in Twelve Landscapes, both released in 2016, are examinations of the prison-industrial complex that come from filmmakers who publicly self-identify as prison abolitionists. [Full disclosure: Story is another of the author’s professors at Ryerson University.]

    There’s even more on the horizon. Among others, Did You Wonder Who Fired the Gun?, an essay film about white supremacy from Travis Wilkerson (who is best known for 2002’s An Injury to One), will bow in theaters this fall. Like all of his work, the much-buzzed-about new film is made “in the tradition of the ‘Third Cinema,’ wedding politics to form in an indivisible manner.” Robert Greene’s Bisbee ‘17, a timely look at the Bisbee Deportation of 1917 and the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW)’s role in the event, will have a national release before the year’s end as well. The magazine Jacobin is also involved in the production of a new documentary about socialism in America, which has apparently had impressive access to Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, the Democratic Socialists of America member who won a startling victory in the Democratic primary in New York’s 14th congressional district.

    That said, resolutely leftist films do often face an uphill battle against mainstream documentary’s centrist turn. For one thing, “radically-committed documentaries” don’t usually have the resources for promotion and advertising that many “liberal-consensus documentaries” do. Netflix, for example, spent $2 billion on marketing in 2018, so it’s likely that Obama productions in the offing will get a proportionally larger push than anything coming from the margins. For another, as this article has endeavored to point out, radical perspectives have become more the exception than the rule in mainstream documentary, with liberal centrism dominating political discourse in films and series. This state of affairs makes it appreciably harder for alternative voices and stories to be heard by those who need to hear them.

    But American audiences, like the American electorate, can and must reject the ideas we’re getting inundated with in favor of more revolutionary ones. The Obamas’ impending Netflix documentaries will probably tell us what we want to hear in an effort to make us feel good, but what our times call for instead is something else entirely: an activist-minded cinema devoted not to the Democratic establishment but to the people.

    *Daniel Clarkson Fisher is a Toronto-based writer whose work has appeared in AlterNet, New Politics, PopMatters, Bright Lights Film Journal, Nonfics, Tricycle, Religion Dispatches, and Diabolique. He is a student in the MFA in Documentary Media program at Ryerson University, and member of IWW Educational Workers Industrial Union 620.

  • Globalists vs. Internationalists

    ImageQuinn Slobodian. Globalists: The End of Empire and the Birth of Neoliberalism. Harvard University Press, 2018. 381pp.

    Neoliberalism is dead, if it ever existed at all. Centrists and so-called moderates dismiss it as nothing more than a slur bandied around by leftists. On the left on the other hand, neoliberalism is at times portrayed as mere free market fundamentalism, or simply as a return to capitalism as it was intended, before the post-war social democratic hiatus. Thatcher and Reagan, the thinking goes, along with Milton Friedman and his “Chicago Boys”, wanted to unleash the full power of free markets’ self-regulating force.

    These stories have had a long life, but they might be misleading caricatures, or at best tell only a very partial story, as Quinn Slobodian’s sweeping intellectual history of neoliberalism illustrates. Globalists is the work of an historian that relishes the opportunity to excavate, like an archaeologist, the fossils of an idea. In this genealogy of neoliberalism, a sweeping travelogue meandering through European intellectual history from the interwar period onwards, the roots are not to be found in a resurgent West’s fear of Soviet Communism during the Cold War, claims Slobodian, but rather in the more gentile central Europe of the late 1920s. The Austro-Hungarian empire has collapsed, and in a continent of new nations, a group of economists sees in this “world of walls” a menace to an international market that should lead to convergence across nations. Always the magnanimous one, economist Ludwig von Mises envisions, as recounted in the book, a world in which European workers earn less, but also in which “Hindus and coolies” would earn more.

    Slobodian defines neoliberalism as an ideology devoted to finding extra-economic ways to protect the global economic order, to encase—rather than to unleash—market dogmas in a solid international institutional and juridical edifice. They formulate the idea that the realm of dominium, property rights, should be more important than imperium—a country’s sovereignty. Governments should act as gardeners, Hayek would write, tending to the flows of capital and trade, keeping the environment ideal for markets to thrive. Hayek’s garden would be protected by regulating structures, “establishments which are the result of human action, but not the execution of any human design”, in the words of 18th century philosopher Adam Ferguson. Scholars of neoliberalism, from Michel Foucault to Loïc Wacquant, had long understood that it operated as a reconfiguration—rather than a retreat—of the state. Slobodian’s book however adds a historical perspective, detailing how this ideological battle was waged through a clear strategy of lobbying in international institutional settings, pushing newly decolonized countries to relinquish economic nationalism, “kicking away the ladder” that had allowed the West to develop. One of the more interesting conceptualizations Slobodian credits to neoliberals in his book is the notion of “xenos rights” of capital, namely the “rights to safe passage and unmolested ownership of their property and capital, regardless of the territory.”

    The term “neoliberalism” itself was coined through much debate at the Walter Lippmann Colloqium, organized in Paris in 1938, and it might have been helpful for readers of Slobodian’s book to learn more about one of the conveners, philosopher Louis Rougier, if only because his perspective is central to understanding the Franco-German roots of neoliberalism. At the heart of his thought and of that 1938 meeting is the idea that laissez-faire economics—i.e. Manchester Liberalism—and planisme were two sides of the same medal: “mystical doctrines”, as he would define them. Channeling ordoliberals, Rougier would write that “constructive liberalism implies a juridical order in which free competition would be enshrined, a juridical order in which the formation of trusts would become impossible, just as much as trade union tyranny, which imposes employment and salary conditions contrary to the balance of the labor market.” Rougier’s intellectual history almost mirrors Wilhelm Röpke’s, to whom Slobodian dedicates many pages. Röpke, a committed culturalist and racist, supported apartheid South Africa in the name of his belief in the fundamental difference between races, and the superiority of European civilization (sic) over Africans. Rougier collaborated with the Vichy regime during World War II, reason for which he would be barred from attending the first meeting of the Société du Mont Pélerin—founded by Röpke and Hayek—in 1947. He would later join in the 1970s Alain de Benoist’s GRECE, a neo-fascist and culturalist European group of intellectuals, to whom our contemporary nativist right owes a significant intellectual debt.

    The trajectories of people like Röpke and Rougier hint to an unresolved tension amongst neoliberals, and one that Slobodian does not linger on enough, arguably. How come people that share a similar vision of the global economy—across a similar spectrum, at the very least—differ so much in their view of the world? How can neoliberalism make room for both Wilhelm Röpke and someone like Pascal Lamy, director-general of the WTO from 2005 to 2013, and who could not even remotely be suspected of harboring racial supremacist ideas? How come amongst neoliberals, equally committed to a free and encased global market, some are so attached to national sovereignty, like Brexit ideologue Douglas Carswell or Alternative for Germany’s Alice Weidel, while others, like European Union MP Guy Verhofstadt or philanthro-capitalist George Soros long for a post-national world? Perhaps an answer to this question also lies in the evolution of neoliberalism in Europe.

    In Slobodian’s book in fact, neoliberals appear as somewhat uninterested in liberal democracy. Their main concern is the defense and securing of dominium rights over the fluctuations of politics played out on national stages. However, for a particular school of neoliberalism emerging in France, liberal democracy appears quite clearly as the condition of realization of a free market economy. They could be labeled the “idealist” branch of neoliberalism, covering their economic ideology with a veneer of high-minded liberal values. The Fondation Saint-Simon, a think tank started around historian Pierre Rosanvallon and economist Alain Minc in 1981 illustrated this evolution. Minc would coin the term of “circle of reason” to describe themselves, and more broadly the neoliberals across the right and left that were committed to their agenda. In recent years, this distinction between French and German ordoliberalism was seen in the EU’s reaction to the Greek government’s resistance in 2015. For both Emmanuel Macron and Wolfgang Schaüble, respectively finance ministers of France and Germany at the time, the outcome of the crisis would have been the same from the start: the submission of Greece to EU’s supra-national rules. Whereas Schaüble took the part of the bad cop, proudly showcasing his ordo-intransigence, Macron could play the good cop, covering the submission and impoverishment of the Greeks in the honey-tongued language of European liberal values. “We cannot let elections affect economic policy”, Schaüble would tell Greek finance minister Yanis Varoufakis during their first Eurogroup meeting, channeling the book’s cast of characters.

    By situating the neoliberal movement as a globalist one, intent on creating a fully integrated world economy shielded from political change, one can see through Slobodian’s book the specter of the nativist backlash we have witnessed in recent years. Far-right movements have rebranded themselves as those more likely to protect people from the globalists—those that break walls and want to bring to the West “the standards of life of Hindus and coolies”, to circle back to Mises’ earlier words. Neoliberal globalists are coherent, claim the Steve Bannons and Marine Le Pens of the world: they want xenos rights of capital, which impoverish national economies; they also defend xenos rights of immigrants, who change national cultures and replace native populations (sic). The populist right contrasts to that a return to idealized national economies of the past, a shattering of the international juridical apparatuses encasing global market flows, to protect people from globalization. There is an apparent pernicious coherence in their reasoning.

    Although the author does not enter into contemporary political debates, his book can be read as a defense of the nation against neoliberal policies. If neoliberalism places dominium rights over imperium, countering it will mean flipping that hierarchy and replacing at the center of political life the rule of the state over property and capital rights. This does not have to be a sclerotic statist and nationalist imperium. For Spinoza, as defined in his Tractatus Politicus, imperium is nothing more than “the right determined by the power of the multitude.” The first step against neoliberal hegemony might be to shatter the preeminence of dominium.

    However, whenever one tries to theorize the nation from the left and to appropriate it as an emancipatory political unit, many within its ranks raise an eyebrow. Going down that line, they say, you will play perfectly into the hands of the nationalists. They have more experience with that form. Granted, the horrors of 20th century nationalism in Europe have made Europeans weary of any claim about nations. But the most radical decolonial movements are not averse to embracing that category, in Africa or South America. The greatest ideological victory of neoliberals might very well be the idea that any attempt to break the encasing of markets in an oppressive global order is, regardless of conditions, a reactionary and conservative move. Seen that way, there is, indeed, no alternative.

    Yet the nation does not have to be a nativist nightmare. The populist rights think it is coherent in choosing to curb all xenos rights—of both capital and humans. A vision of the nation by the left would grant unalienable xenos rights to human beings, freedom of movement and settlement for all those wishing to do so. This way, no risks of confusion with the crypto-fascists, who pretend to defend the downtrodden as long as they have the right name or the right passport, only to foster conflicts between people that would have every interest in uniting politically. These unalienable xenos rights for humans would have to go along with a serious dismantling of the inalienability of Hayek’s xenos rights for capital. Disentangling freedom of human movement from the freedom of capital movement could be a way to free ourselves from the liberal capitalist mindset, which treats every human as capital.

    This would have the beneficial consequence of stopping the political blackmail that consists in capital pitting regions of the world against each other in a race to the bottom. Economist Dani Rodrik theorized at the end of the last century the “trilemma” of international political economy: one can only have two out of national sovereignty, global economic integration, and democratic government. But as Slobodian’s book makes clear, global economic integration in its neoliberal form cannot allow for democracy, because it is precisely predicated on protecting the market from democracies.

    Political constructivism beyond the nation-state is possible, but history shows that upheavals of that magnitude, namely changing people’s perspective of their communities of belonging and purpose, is usually a long and violent process. With which political resources could we organize a truly democratic global government, and in how much time? Those suffering the effects of neoliberalism across the world do not have that much time. This is why one is forced to sneer at suggestions like some recently seen in the media, suggesting the imminent demise of nation-states. The hope could instead be to have inter-national movements, where the convergence of standards of living does not happen at the lowest common denominator for the majority, as Ludwig von Mises would have wanted. Internationalism, in this sense, becomes the true opposition to globalism. There is nothing mystical about this nation, it is just the perimeter on which collective sovereignty is exercised, just one product of historical contingency like others. But the one that seems to be at this historical juncture the most useful in effecting progressive change in the world. The question then becomes how to organize inter-national rules and inter-national solidarity, an effort in building true internationalism for everyone—not just globalism for elites.

  • Marx and Marxism in Berkeley in 1968

    Image

    Berkeley (California) was probably a unique political-cultural milieu in the U.S. in the 1960s, both before and after 1968. It was part of the larger political-cultural scene of the San Francisco Bay Area from 1945 onward. The Bay Area at the time was a relative backwater in the U.S., compared to the East coast. The area had, however, seen one of the biggest general strikes of the 1930s, when the Communist Party-influenced ILWU (International Longshore Workers Union) helped bring San Francisco to a halt in 1934, including mass street battles with the police.

    As late as the 1970’s, prior to the serious beginnings of gentrification, San Francisco was still something of a “labor town” where capitalists and politicians had to tread softly. In 1945, the poet Kenneth Rexroth and others had laid the foundations of the later San Francisco Renaissance with a gathering of poets and radicals that reached into the 1960s, when it was challenged and overwhelmed by the hippie counter-culture. In 1951, the anarchist poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti, in San Francisco’s North Beach area, had founded City Lights Bookstore, a center for books and poetry available in few other places (and still in existence).

    Across the Bay from San Francisco, Berkeley was a somewhat different but related cultural-political scene. One of the differences was, of course, the main campus of the University of California system, which by the 1960s had over 20,000 students. UC Berkeley had famously purged its own radical professors during the McCarthy era (late 1940s/early 1950s), a kind of liberal house-cleaning intended to keep at bay right-wing witch hunt forces such as HUAC (House of Un-American Activities Committee, a congressional investigative body) by doing their dirty work for them. In 1960, there were major riots against HUAC in San Francisco, in which Berkeley radicals participated, effectively ending HUAC as a force.

    Berkeley was a city (population 100,000) where Communists, ex-Communists and other radicals from the 1930s and 1940s could to some extent “lay low” during the period of McCarthyite reaction. The city saw the (1948) origins of Pacifica radio, in which many such types found a home during the 1950s emergence of FM broadcasting, featuring not only jazz and classical music but also poetry and serious news programs not available elsewhere. Cody’s Bookstore, another iconic scene, was started in the 1950s, and by the late 1960’s occupied a large building on Telegraph Avenue, south of the campus, where it remained for decades, one of the best bookstores in the U.S.

    By the early 1960s, Berkeley and San Francisco were increasingly swept up in the emerging black civil rights movement. By 1964, there were mass demonstrations in both San Francisco and Oakland against racial discrimination in hiring, and some Berkeley students went to the Deep South in the summer of 1964 to help with voter registration of black people. When they returned, they brought with them the outlook and organizing methods learned in the South, for movements both on and off campus. This led directly to the origins of the Free Speech Movement in Fall 1964, in which 800 Berkeley students ultimately occupied the administration building, demanding the right to have political tables on campus, including for organizing off campus. They won. Their arrests became a national and international flashpoint. Sproul Plaza, the main campus area for tabling and leafleting, became something like a major Athenian agora in which two dozen political and cultural tendencies vied for influence.

    Both interesting and significant was the fact that, amidst such ferment, Students for a Democratic Society (SDS), the main national group of radical students, never gained a foothold in Berkeley, in contrast to many other U.S. campuses which lacked such a varied political and cultural scene.

    The national elections of 1964 were a major turning point. The “great liberal” Democrat and “peace candidate,” Lyndon Johnson, overwhelmingly defeated a right-wing, war-mongering Republican, Barry Goldwater, in an election in which both the civil rights movement and the then-emerging Vietnam War were major issues. Within a few months of his landslide victory, Johnson escalated the bombing of North Vietnam, an unsurpassable education by events for the 1960’s generation then coming of age. Shortly thereafter, the U.S. invaded the Dominican Republic to put down a radical uprising there, warning of possible “Communist influence” from the nearby Cuban Revolution, which was then consolidating itself and was (seemingly) oriented to exporting revolution throughout Latin America and beyond. New Deal Democratic Party liberalism never recovered from these and other developments.

    I became a student at UC Berkeley in the spring of 1966, above all to maintain a student draft deferment, as the American troop presence in Vietnam reached 500,000. I was bored by the classes and dreamed of expatriating to Paris. There were daily political rallies on the main campus plaza, overwhelmingly left-wing and anti-war. I was anti-war but mistrustful of the Maoist, Trotskyist and vaguely Third Wordist groups that partly set the tone. The Chinese “Cultural Revolution” was then in ascendance, which many Berkeley students and ex-students rather naively assumed was a counterpart of the cultural revolution then taking shape in the Bay Area, centered in the “sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll” of the burgeoning hippie scene in the Haight-Ashbury district of San Francisco.

    In 1966, UC Berkeley offered no courses in Marx and Marxism per se, though that was mainly beside the point because, especially to hostile outsiders, led by newly-elected California governor Ronald Reagan, much of the “Berkeley” experience at that time seemed a 24/7 immersion in Marxism. A number of the speakers haranguing the noontime crowds on Sproul Plaza were from self-styled Marxist groups, such as the often spellbinding Peter Camejo (Socialist Workers Party) or the recovering left-liberal Bob Avakian, also a great demagogue, and not yet the jefe maximo of what became today’s Revolutionary Communist Party (RCP). The junior philosophy professor Richard Lichtman, with a humorless rapid-fire but competent delivery, began offering courses on Hegel and Marx around this time. Two of the highly talented theorists of the political science department, John Scharr and Sheldon Wolin, taught Marx and Lenin in their classes. Professors of German and Russia history (Gerald Feldman, Martin Malia, Carl Schorske) were not sympathetic to Marxism per se, but could hardly avoid dealing with it. In 1969, after Lichtman was denied tenure, the philosophy department brought in the eminent Polish thinker Leszek Kolakowski to teach Marx, though by the time he arrived he had already turned away from the Marxist humanism for which he had become famous in Eastern Europe. The opening lecture of his undergraduate Marxism class was packed with student militants, but Kolakowski’s talk on the origins of the dialectic in the neo-Platonic thinkers of late antiquity, above all Plotinus, quickly cleared out the room. I stayed; it was a great course on a history of which I was, to put it mildly, unaware, of the philosophical expressions of the great medieval and Renaissance-era millenarian uprisings.

    It was actually an offhand comment by a maverick anthropology professor named Ernest Becker that inspired me to read, over the summer of 1967, the three volumes of Isaac Deutscher’s biography of Trotsky, which (in the slang of the day and since) “blew my mind.” I was not specifically taken with Trotsky’s politics, aside from the obvious anti-Stalinism, nor Deutscher’s spin on them, but by the sweep of his life as an activist, writer and speaker. I was already receiving English translations from the Socialisme ou Barbarie group in France, and other “ultra-left” writings such as Ida Mett’s pamphlet on Kronstadt, from S ou B’s fraternal group in Britain, Solidarity. I set out looking for a group with some variant of these politics, and a friend pointed me to the (then) Independent Socialist Clubs (ISC), which called for the working-class overthrow of every government in the world. I had found “my people.”

    Perhaps the most accomplished Marxist on campus at that time was actually Hal Draper, who by then worked in the acquisitions department of the library (as a result of which Berkeley had an outstanding collection of working-class and socialist history). Draper had emerged as a firebrand speaker at mass rallies during the Free Speech Movement, earning respect as the “one person over 30” (in the trope of that time) who could be trusted. Draper was the grey eminence of the ISC (later renamed International Socialists (IS). He also gave public talks for the group, and wrote a widely-read pamphlet “The Two Souls of Socialism,” contrasting Marx and Engels (socialism from below) with an array of (in Draper’s view) then popular “socialism from above” figures ranging from Fidel Castro to Mao to Herbert Marcuse. Because of Marcuse’s World War II work for the OSS (Organization of Strategic Services), the predecessor to the CIA, the ultra-Stalinist Progressive Labor Party (with a negligible presence in Berkeley) ran a campaign against him called “Marcuse: Cop-Out or Cop?.”

    These campus goings-on could hardly be understood separately from the larger mobilizations and events of these years: the mass anti-war march in San Francisco of spring 1967 of perhaps 100,000 people, the fall 1967 Stop the Draft Week demos at the army induction center in downtown Oakland, involving thousands, or the (less successful) attempts to halt the troop trains in western Berkeley. Nor could they be separated from the (above mentioned) hippie counter-culture developing across the bay in San Francisco. Fall 1967 also saw the giant March on Washington DC, during which the poet Allen Ginsberg tried to levitate the Pentagon with Buddhist chants.

    In early spring 1968, the Tet offensive in Vietnam, though it was militarily defeated, ripped away the last vestiges of the U.S. claim that it was “winning the war,” which no one in Berkeley had taken seriously for years previously. The Orwellian statement by a U.S. officer “We had to destroy the village to save it” summed up the outrages being committed there to “defend democracy,” supposedly embodied by the corrupt militarist clique then ruling South Vietnam.

    The 1960s radical black movement was present in Berkeley above all through the Black Panther Party (BPP), which had been founded in Oakland in 1966 and quickly gained national notoriety for armed public demonstrations (entirely legal under the Second Amendment of the U.S. Constitution, but which terrified the “establishment”, which never imagined the constitution extending to black people). BPP founder Huey P. Newton was in jail from Fall 1967 until 1970, but other talented leaders such as Eldridge Cleaver (whatever his other problems) and Bobby Seale spoke at Sproul Plaza and elsewhere on the campus. I remember Cleaver in 1968 telling a meeting to “get down” with the thought of “Big Daddy Karl Marx.”

    A mass registration campaign throughout California in 1967 succeeded in getting the newly-founded antiwar Peace and Freedom Party (PFP) on the statewide ballot with over 100,000 signatures, a development carefully monitored in the White House itself, as a sign of the disintegrating Democratic Party. The 1968 PFP convention nominated Cleaver for president of the United States. Shortly thereafter, however, he and other Panthers were involved in a shoot-out with police, and Cleaver had to flee the U.S., first to Algeria and then to France, where he was granted asylum by Giscard d’Estaing. (The PFP later nominated Dr. Benjamin Spock, of liberal child-rearing fame.)

    My own real education in Marxist politics was provided by older members of the ISC and the internal education meetings we had on China, where we read books like Harold Isaacs’ classic The Tragedy of the Chinese Revolution, and on the Russian Revolution. As a result of this education, combined of course with involvement in the unfolding of the broader left movement, I was, age 21, able to hold my own in study groups in the county jail in December 1968, against older speakers from the Stalinist PLP, and others. The hippies who had been arrested with us looked on in awe at such “head trip” debates, and one of them later said “That ISC really educates its members.” Which it did. (I remember a new arrival from Cornell taking me aside and saying “In Ithaca, you just had to be against racism and imperialism. Here in Berkeley, people want to know where you stand on Norman O. Brown’s theory of polymorphous perversity vs. Freud’s genital organization before they’ll even talk to you.”)

    Berkeley was occupied five times in 1968-1969 by the National Guard and by the Alameda County sheriffs. Twice in summer 1968 there were confrontations on Telegraph Avenue, just off the campus; in Fall 1968, 80 people (myself included) occupied the philosophy department building, and were arrested; in February and March 1969 there were violent confrontations over the demand for a “Third World Studies” program for black, brown and Asian students, and finally in May 1969 there were even larger confrontations over the mass appropriation of (off campus) university land for what became “People’s Park,” during which the police shot and killed one guy throwing rocks from a rooftop. When asked at a press conference why the sheriffs had fired buckshot at the crowds, Alameda County sheriff commander Frank Madigan replied laconically “We ran out of birdshot.”

    Such, then, were the local, national and international contexts for my encounter with Marx in Berkeley, 1968.

    Originally posted at Insurgent Notes.

  • How Prisons Serve Capitalism

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    I once asked a class at a prison in Washington State how they would describe the relationship between capitalism and incarceration. “They get you coming and going,” someone quickly offered.

    Perhaps he had in mind the legal financial obligations that are levied against many people upon their conviction.1 He also could have been referring to the exorbitant costs of commissary supplies. In January, Florida prisoners announced a strike to protest their conditions. Among their grievances, the high cost of commissary, including $17 for a case of soup and $18 for tampons.2 Or maybe he was thinking about the lengths his loved ones went to communicate with him. Since being asked to write this review, I’ve paid $53 to the telecommunications company Securus so that a friend incarcerated in New York could call me—a $3 activation fee in addition to a $50 deposit in his account for future collect calls—and $50 to JPay, a subsidiary of Securus that bills itself as “the most trusted name in corrections,” so that I could email with people incarcerated here in the Northwest. This money is on top of my regular acquisition of stamps and envelopes to maintain traditional forms of correspondence with incarcerated friends who do not have email access.

    That prisons incarcerate almost exclusively poor people is a truism. Less discussed is that imprisonment keeps people—and communities—poor. Although overwhelmingly government-run, the US penal system extracts wealth from people least able to pay and, by making them pay, it keeps them in its grip.3

    People often misread the role of economics in giving the United States the world’s largest prison system. Surely, many commentators insist, the whole enterprise must be driven by profit; why else would the country lock up so many people for so long in conditions so cruel? Capitalism is a central character in the story of American punishment—but not because the criminal justice system is an elaborate pyramid scheme. A summary review of the half-century expansion of police and prison power shows that debt, violence, and prison have served primarily political purposes in the context of deepening economic inequality. More than profit, capitalism generatesmisery from its poorest subjects.

    While it has a long history, the braiding of debt and punishment has become a core feature of how criminal justice has anchored the American state since the early 1970s. In her new book, Jackie Wang dubs this development “carceral capitalism”: a draconian model of economic governance that approaches Black urban communities with a mixture of debt and police violence. Carceral capitalism turns police, prosecutors, and courts into creditors, lessors, and debt collectors. Capitalism, Wang shows, integrates the punitive state through debt. For many people, debt itself is a form of punishment.

    Examining how police power grows through the imposition of debt and the deployment of new technologies, Wang wants readers to understand the role of incarceration in “the dynamics of late capitalism.” As city and state governments themselves are squeezed for funds, they pick the pockets of the poor to pay their bills. From the debtors’ prisons of 17th-century America to the high-interest legal financial obligations of today that cannot be discharged in bankruptcy, to be in debt is to be exposed to the government’s power to punish. One means for city and state governments to keep the funds flowing is to prey on those who already occupy the economic margins, and novel technologies have elaborated ever-more sophisticated ways of tracking their quarry.

    Still, focusing too closely on the technological innovations of finance and debt obscure a more profound transformation. The story of debt that Wang traces says more about broader trends in contemporary American capitalism, including its urban political economy, than about carceral injustice.

    The idea of “carceral capitalism” suggests a different way of naming the convergence of finance capitalism and the punitive state that has seen so many people sacrificed to cops and cages. Scholars and activists have offered terms such as “mass incarceration,” which emphasizes the rapid growth of imprisonment since the 1970s; the “prison industrial complex,” which is often misread as an economistic focus on prison labor or the small number of private prisons; or the “carceral state,” a clunky phrase that focuses on the state form but makes no mention of the economic transformations precipitating or propelling industrialized punishment.

    No single phrase can capture the complex integration of the state, private actors, and impoverishment that is made manifest through the 10 million people that annually pass through America’s jails, the more than 1.5 million held in prisons and detention centers on any given day, the 4.5 million on parole or probation, and the uncounted masses daily stopped, frisked, harassed, and surveilled. But the concept of “carceral capitalism” offers a way to synthesize the parts that have made the United States the world’s biggest jailer.

    Today, elites gain political and financial rewards for imprisoning groups of people. The roots of this system can be traced to a political-economic project aimed at preserving capitalism’s racial inequalities: the quelling of the rebellions of working-class Black communities in the 1960s. A deeper look into this history places the repression and disappearance of racialized labor at the center of the story. To full understand carceral capitalism, then, it is necessary to look at the history of labor and joblessness in Black urban neighborhoods.

    Throughout the 1960s, Black working-class people rose up against racial capitalism. Their uprisings also catalyzed similar rebellions in Puerto Rican and Chicano communities. Police brutality was invariably the spark. Yet the tender had been provided by decades of housing and employment segregation that saw Black (and Latinx) communities overwhelmingly housed in squalid conditions and chronically under- or unemployed. In Watts, Detroit, and Newark; in Plainfield, NJ, Cambridge, MD, and Waukegan, IL; and in so many other locales, the fires were lit by the same arsonist: patterned segregation upheld by routine if spontaneous police violence. The National Guard helped local and state police arrest 10s of thousands of people in these long, hot summers. In response, metropolitan police forces increasingly began to resemble the National Guard in weaponry and authority.

    The crisis of worklessness led many people to protest in the streets or join organizations ranging from the Black Panther Party to the Urban League, the Communist Party to the NAACP. The government, however, responded to these groups and the crisis by expanding the legal rationale and physical capacity for incarceration. It was not debt, as Wang highlights with regard to the contemporary period, but war that explained the imprisonment of the period: wars on communism, crime, drugs, gangs, and guns.4

    Debt has become a form of repression for those rendered obsolete by globalizing capital. A number of analysts within the 1960s-era Black freedom struggle recognized the looming challenge. Jack O’Dell opined in a 1967 issue of Freedomways that the response to urban rebellions of the 1960s augured a dangerous trend: “Despite certain concessions to civil rights and a number of important court decisions favorable to the defense of civil liberties, militarism and the military presence are rapidly becoming the main features of governmental power in American life.”5 Three years later, in his book Who Needs the Negro?, sociologist Sidney Willhelm warned that automation caused increasing worklessness for Black communities that would have to be addressed—either through public works programs or increasing authoritarianism, social democracy, or state violence.6

    Soon after, the US incarceration rate began its inexorable climb.

    Punishment came to preoccupy the state in response to Black working-class protests against the racism of 1960s capitalism. Once local and federal government entities redirected public coffers toward punishment, it was only a matter of time before private companies tried monetizing racist and political repression—much as they have done with housing and employment segregation. Their literal and ideological investments in punishment are fundamentally parasitic: punishingly extractive themselves, they are yet still dependent on the motivation of external entities. State policy, and state funding, drives their actions.

    As elites responded to labor crises in communities of color with mass incarceration, prisons accelerated worklessness itself. The idea of rehabilitation had always existed uneasily with the punitive mission of incarceration. As prisons became filled with more Black and Brown people, antiracist rebellions erupted within prison with an urgency that matched their urban counterparts. Talk of rehabilitation all but disappeared. Longtime wardens lamented the “new breed of inmate” entering their custody and lobbied for greater severity in punishment.7 Removing work was part of increasing the prison’s severity. “Prison provided inmates with few opportunities to constructively pass the time they were sentenced to serve,” journalist John McCoy wrote in a 1981 photo-essay on Washington’s Walla Walla prison. “Jobs were few.” Those that did exist tended to be make-work activities that offered neither gratification nor meaningful training.8

    The expansion of punishment under neoliberalism has exacerbated the warehouse prison. Less than half of the 2.3 million people currently incarcerated do any work in prison, and the vast majority of those who do work inside work for the prison itself: sweeping the halls of the cell block, cleaning the kitchen, assisting one of the scant programs available to prisoners. Idleness is a feature, not a bug, of American punishment. Conservative criminologists and reactionary politicians soon replaced even the idea of rehabilitation with incapacitation. “Incapacitation doesn’t pretend to change anything about people except where they are,” writes geographer Ruth Wilson Gilmore in her trenchant study of California prisons.9

    Much of the current scholarship on the carceral state has added more data points to the insights Black radicals offered in the 1960s and 1970s, investigating its metastasization as a reflection of disciplining an unruly, politically militant Black working class. Although there are significant differences in the literature, including how to weigh economic transformations in relation to explicit political repression, there is an emerging consensus that the rise of mass incarceration needs to be understood as the elite response to politically rebellious Black and Brown communities at the advent of neoliberalism.10

    The phrase “carceral capitalism” raises a question: how do capitalism and carceral power not just coexist but come to constitute each other? Debt is a necessary but insufficient explanatory variable in understanding how carceral capitalism comes to exist—and what it would mean to abolish it. Wang celebrates the utopian, “prophetic dream” of abolition, to which we must add concrete organizing efforts to reduce the scale and scope of the punishment system. Recognizing that carceral power is a measure of American inequality, abolitionists have pursued full employment, universal health care, educational equity, and restorative justice alongside an end to prisons, jails, and immigrant detention and deportation.

    Carceral power exceeds the framework of finance capital and technological innovation around which Wang builds her argument. Rather, carceral expansion is a form of political as well as economic repression aimed at managing worklessness among the Black and Brown (and increasingly white) working class for whom global capitalism has limited need.11 The generative theorizing of Carceral Capitalism needs to be put in further conversation with the empirical work on the political economy of prisons.

    Police and prisons have expanded in both quantity and meanness over the last half century to enable the brutal management of (potentially) rebellious workers made obsolete by the increasing globalization of American capitalism. But perhaps, in the depths of the Trump era, buoyed by the hunger and labor strikes that increasingly dot the American carceral landscape, the demands for full employment and universal health care, the civil disobedience actions aiming to halt the detention and deportation of immigrant workers, we can start to see the abolitionist horizon come into focus.

    This article was commissioned by Destin Jenkins.

    1. On legal financial obligations, see Alexes Harris, Pound of Flesh: Monetary Sanctions as Punishment for the Poor (Russell Sage Foundation, 2016). ↩
    2. The claim about the price of a case of soup can be found in “FL Prisoners Call for Operation PUSH to Improve the Lives of Incarcerated People and the Communities We Come From,” an open letter from Florida prisoners, reprinted in Jerry Iannelli, “Florida Prisoners Plan Huge Strike for Civil Rights on MLK Day This Monday,” Miami New Times, January 9, 2018. PolitiFact Florida tried to investigate the accusations of price-gouging; information provided by the state’s Department of Corrections showed prices to be much lower, though still marked up. See Allison Graves, “Claims about Prison Price-Gouging Decry $17 Soup, $18 Tampons,” Politifact Florida, January 22, 2018. ↩
    3. On the community costs of incarceration, see the Ella Baker Center for Human Rights, Forward Together, and Research Action Design, “Who Pays? The True Cost of Incarceration on Families,” September 2015. ↩
    4. In his Pulitzer-winning book, James Forman adds the “war on guns” to the list of interrelated domestic wars targeting the Black urban working class since the 1970s. See James Forman Jr., Locking Up Our Own: Crime and Punishment in Black America (Farrar, Strauss & Giroux: 2017). ↩
    5. Jack O’Dell, “July Rebellions and the ‘Military State,’” in Climbin’ Jacob’s Ladder: The Black Freedom Movement Writings of Jack O’Dell, edited by Nikhil Pal Singh (University of California Press, 2010), p. 154. ↩
    6. Sidney M. Willhelm, Who Needs the Negro? (Schenkman, 1970). ↩
    7. For an example from Washington State, see the comments of Walla Walla Warden Bobby J. Rhay, quoted in Charles Stastny and Gabrielle Tyrnauer, Who Rules the Joint? The Changing Political Culture of Maximum-Security Prisons in America (Lexington Books, 1982), p. 81. ↩
    8. John McCoy and Ethan Hoffman, Concrete Mama: Prison Profiles from Walla Walla (University of Missouri Press, 1981), pp. 134–135. ↩
    9. Ruth Wilson Gilmore, Golden Gulag: Prisons, Surplus, Crisis, and Opposition in Globalizing California (University of California Press, 2007), pp. 14, 21. ↩
    10. See, for instance, Elizabeth Hinton, From the War on Poverty to the War on Crime (Harvard University Press, 2016); Heather Ann Thompson, Blood in the Water: The Attica Prison Uprising of 1971 and its Legacy (Pantheon, 2016); Julilly Kohler-Haussman, Getting Tough: Welfare and Imprisonment in 1970s America (Princeton University Press, 2017). For critical debates on these questions, see Alessandro De Giorgi, “Five Theses on Mass Incarceration,” Social Justice, vol. 42, no. 2 (2015); Ruth Wilson Gilmore, “The Worrying State of the Anti-Prison Movement,” Social Justice blog, February 23, 2015; and Orisanmi Burton, “Diluting Radical History: Blood in the Water and the Politics of Erasure,” Abolition, January 26, 2017. For an activist attempt to synthesize these issues, written by a longtime political prisoner, see David Gilbert, Our Commitment Is to Our Communities (Kersplebedeb, 2014). ↩
    11. Michelle Chen, “Is the Opioid Crisis Leading to a Spike in the White Incarceration Rate?” The Nation, March 7, 2018. ↩

    Originally posted at Public Books.

  • A Marxist theory of music: it’s all in the groove

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    Much analysis of modern music focuses on lyrical content, but how can we understand modern musical forms? What relation do they have to the capitalist world in which they’ve developed? To answer these questions Kate Bradley interviewed Mark Abel, author of Groove: An Aesthetic of Measured Time.

    Is it fair to say that Groove is a defence of popular music from a Marxist perspective? Could you summarise your argument in brief?

    It is a defence of popular music, but in the first place it is an attempt to explain why the music of our time sounds the way it does. In studying music, I hold to the Marxist principle that cultural phenomena are shaped by the material practices of the society that produces them. Culture also tends to get naturalised so that it seems to most people that things couldn’t be any other way. In the case of music, what I call ‘groove music’ is so ubiquitous that we are tempted to think that it’s just the way that music is, but it’s important to have a historical picture which can show that groove arises in music around the beginning of the twentieth century, initially in America. In turn, it represents an intensification of an aspect of music – meter – which dates from only a few hundred years before that.

    What is your definition of ‘groove music’?

    ‘Groove’ is a word used by musicians to describe the way that the different layers of music, the various instruments and voices, lock together to produce a tight overall rhythmic feel. Although all musical ensembles need to be coordinated in time, I argue that groove is unique to the popular music of the twentieth (and twenty-first) century and is not a feature of ‘classical’ music or folk or traditional musics. My analysis of groove identifies four characteristics: strict metronomic timing; a highly structured meter; backbeat – an emphasis on the off-beats of the meter; and syncopation. Other musics might display one or two of these, but not consistently all four.

    Your argument seems to hinge on how different people experience time, especially people of different classes and historical periods. Why do you think time is crucial to understanding music?

    Time is an obvious place to start for a materialist understanding of music because time is a feature of both social life and music. I think it is reasonable to assume that there is a close connection between musical time and social time, and that the way that a society organises the lived experience of time finds its expression in the language of music. Historically, we can see this happening as the temporal structures of music (how rhythm is organised) change as a result of developments in society.

    So, the emergence of meter – represented by the time-signature in Western notation – can be traced to the urbanisation of European society, as the rhythms of daily life begin to be organised less around the natural phenomena of sunrise and sunset varying with the seasons, and become governed instead by the measured time of the newly invented clock. I identify the intensification of this into ‘groove’ with the penetration of measured time still further into people’s lives with monopoly capitalism, as clock time became standardised across the world, and as workers were increasingly subjected to the discipline of clocking on and off and time and motion studies. Underlying this is Marx’s insight that value in a capitalist economy is determined by abstract labour time. Abstract time is at the heart of social reproduction under capitalism and I describe groove as an “aesthetic of measured time”.

    You criticise thinkers like Theodor Adorno for their retreat from the experience of time that most people have, and you suggest that the most dialectical approach to understanding music actually embraces ‘reified’ or ‘abstract’ time – the conception of time used by capitalists to measure and exploit workers’ labour. How does this work? How can listening to or making popular music help to fight back against capitalism?

    It’s important to note that I am heavily influenced by Adorno’s materialist approach to music. From him I take the powerful idea that music’s meaning is found in the way that society’s material processes become embedded in the very language and form of music. But Adorno hears only alienation in the rhythm of the popular music of his day, and advocates instead modernist composers who avoided any sense of meter or rhythmic regularity in their music. This is part of a general intellectual revolt in the early twentieth century against the stultifying effects of industrial capitalism and its cult of abstract time on society, but simply turning one’s back on measured time is not a realistic option for most people.

    This is where a class differentiation enters the analysis. It is striking that both groove music based on measured time and modernist trends which reject it emerge at the same historical moment. Modernism is the preserve of a section of society’s cultural elite (albeit a radical one) while groove comes from below, circulating amongst workers and ordinary people. Making use of abstract capitalist time has a parallel in the organised working class movement. The first proletarians tried to refuse the tyranny of the clock by being late and skiving. By the late nineteenth century trade unionists had learned that the only way to make gains was to fight the bosses on their own terrain – accepting the discipline of measured time, but using it to fight for a shorter working day.

    I don’t suggest that listening or making groove music helps the fightback against capitalism. Nor do I say that groove music is proletarian music. Art doesn’t match up neatly to class interests. But I do defend groove music against high-brow criticism as a valid aesthetic response to the experience of capitalist society.

    Marxist critics of pop music have pointed to capitalist control of the music industry – say, ‘manufactured’ pop like the music made by Justin Bieber or X Factor winners – and have said that it is used to distract people, to exploit musicians to make more money for their bosses. What do you think of this argument? It is possible that some groove music is just the sound of capitalism?

    That is certainly arguable and is essentially Adorno’s position – that groove music is simply the music of capitalism and we should reject it. But this relies on a view of culture as a tool wielded by the capitalist class. I think we need a more dialectical conception. In the first place, as I have explained, the music of our society cannot, in one sense, be anything other than the music of capitalism. That is central to a materialist understanding of art and culture. But in incorporating and manipulating the nature of time in our society, groove music does not merely reinforce capitalism. Musicians are taking an aspect of society and treating it aesthetically. Abstract measured time becomes the object of free play rather than utility. I believe we are attracted to it because we sense that through music we have taken control – albeit temporarily – of an aspect of our existence which normally dominates us. An oppressive aspect of the world becomes a means of artistic expression.

    It is true that not all groove music does this successfully, and that much popular music is churned out purely to fill the catalogues of Spotify and Apple Music. But nonetheless it’s important to recognise the degree of autonomy involved in the best of it.

    In Groove, you criticise the term ‘black music’ and suggest that ‘groove’ music is not African in descent. Why? Is there no case that some music – for example, grime or hip-hop – might only be possible due to a uniquely ‘black Atlantic’ experience (as Paul Gilroy has argued) that has happened because of the conditions of colonialism and racism experienced by people of colour?

    There is no doubt that black Americans have played a huge role in the development of groove music and that it is an important part of black culture. Because of this, many people have argued that the rhythmic quality I describe as groove is African in origin. I don’t think this is true. In the first place, groove as I define it is not simply a feature of those genres of popular music commonly thought of as ‘black music’. In any case, the concept of ‘black music’ is problematic. At the level of musical language, it’s not really possible to talk about different music corresponding to different social groups except in the most conditional and contingent way.

    But secondly, groove is not a feature of traditional African musics. Today, globalisation means that African urban popular musics have adopted the groove principle, but the traditional music of Africa is not organised on metrical lines. The notion of on- and off-beats on which both backbeat and syncopation rely is absent, making this music more akin in its temporal organisation to European music before the development of meter.

    A range of different musical cultures, both African and European, came together to synthesise Western popular music in America. But it is my argument that its central distinguishing feature – groove – was new and was shaped by monopoly capitalism.

    Which is more important for assessing the value and politics of music – how it was produced, its aesthetics, or the contexts in which it is received?

    While it’s obvious that people’s feelings about music are shaped by the conditions under which it is experienced, I think it’s important to oppose the view, common among postmodernists, that the listener can freely determine the meaning they take from music. As a Marxist musicologist (for want of a better term) my focus is to try to understand how musical meaning is encoded in the language of music.

    But it’s also not a coincidence that groove music emerges with a new, more collective way of creating music, one based on improvisation, or ‘jamming’. This is completely different from both the classical model where the composer sets out the entire piece in advance, and the folk model in which traditional tunes are handed down. Although my definition of groove doesn’t depend on it, I think there is something special about a group of individuals coming together to create a groove, something that is lacking, for instance, in music created by a single person using the tool which is the epitome of measured time – the computer.

    What are your favourite kinds of music, and do you think this reflects the value system implied in Groove?

    I got interested in this area when, as a musician, I realised that the rhythmic skills and mind-set I needed to play funk, soca and r&b were of a different order from the classical training that I had received. Ever since, I have been attracted to music that isn’t just groove music, but puts groove centre-stage. I’m fascinated by salsa and Cuban-derived music and also have a soft-spot for reggae and dub. And it seems to me that jazz is the arena which provides the greatest opportunities for the generation of collectively improvised grooves.

    There’s a line from Debord’s Society of the Spectacle which I quote in the book in which he describes a liberated society as one based on the free play of “autonomous yet federated times”. It seems to me to sum up the politics of improvised grooves perfectly.

    Groove: An Aesthetic of Measured Time by Mark Abel is published by Haymarket Books.

    Originally posted at RS21.
  • In Memoriam: David McReynolds, 1929-2018

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    Early Friday morning, socialist, photographer, and lifetime War Resisters League member David McReynolds  committed pacifist + socialist  passed peacefully at the age of 88. David was on WRL staff for a large part of his life and remained within our community long, long after. 

    Presente.

    As written by WRL Member Ed Hedemann.

    David McReynolds died at 1:30 am, August 17th, a day after being brought to Beth Israel ICU in Manhattan. He had suffered a fall in his apartment and apparently never regained consciousness.

    I first met him during a trip from Austin to NYC in 1970, and three years later joined him as a member of the War Resisters League staff. Though we would periodically differ on tactics and politics, he could always be relied upon as a brilliant, challenging, blunt thinker, speaker, and writer, who many times came up with projects — some resulting in his arrest — that would help propel WRL's militantly pacifist message to the wider public.

    For those who don't know, David was on the WRL staff for almost 40 years (1960-1999), a long time member of the Socialist Party, who ran for Congress in 1958 and 1968, President of the United States on the SPUSA ticket in 1980 and 2000 — the first (I think) openly gay candidate for President — and for the U.S. Senate from New York in 2004 on the Green Party ticket. An internationalist and former chair of the War Resisters' International, he traveled extensively, many times to war-torn countries, once getting arrested in Red Square during an anti-nuclear protest in 1978.

    Born in 1929 in Los Angeles, he moved to the East Village in 1956 and began working for Liberation magazine, before joining the WRL staff. An avid photographer, a collection of his photos can be found at http://www.mcreynoldsphotos.org/. All his life he adored animals, most especially cats (sadly, Shaman, his cat — seen in the photo — died shortly after David was taken to the hospital), was a dedicated member of the Bromeliad Society and many other groups that I don't have time to research before this quick post.

    Heartbreaking.

    Originally posted at the War Resisters League website.

    Ed will be writing a more comprehensive memoriam for the Winter 2019 issue of New Politics.

  • The Fires This Time and Their Implications for Ecosocialists

    Image“Deindustrialization.” That’s a word you virtually never hear in the debate around global warming. Not surprising. It’s a word that’s loaded with negative implications: economic collapse, mass layoffs, falling living standards. Who wants to think about those, let alone think about this as a strategy of suppressing CO2 emissions?

    Imagine suggesting to the next oil driller, auto worker or airline flight attendant you run into that the only way to stop global warming is stop producing oil, park the cars, and ground the airplanes. Even the word “degrowth” is beyond the pale of thinkable thought in mainstream discourse. Yet we had better start thinking and talking and organizing around this strategy because, as is becoming more and more apparent, deindustrialization is the only means to avert global ecological collapse. If we do not organize a rationally-planned partial but very substantial deindustrialization of the overindustrialized nations of the North including China, Mother Nature is going to do it for us in a much less pleasant manner and we will face the prospect of the collapse of civilization in this century.

    If humanity had taken serious steps to reduce emissions decades ago in the 1980s when climate scientists began warning us (as the New York Times magazine of last weekend reminds us) then perhaps we wouldn't be in the fix we're in right now. But we didn't and haven't and so now scientists tell us we face a CLIMATE EMERGENCY. For decades the developed economies of the world and the rogue party-state of China have ignored the threat of global warming and kicked the can down the road on the assumption “dangerous” global warming is not imminent or not much of a threat to them at least in the near future. After all, we in the temperate regions of the northern hemisphere have not suffered so much because the heating is more extreme at the poles than the temperature latitudes. The Arctic and Antarctica are melting very fast, with immediate and dire implications for the whole world. And global warming is hitting the neo-tropical Middle East, India and Africa very hard. But in the U.S. all the media talks about is increased flooding along coastlines, more frequent droughts in the West and Southwest, more fires in the west and so on.

    But this summer, the belt of furious fires all around the northern hemisphere from California to Greece to Japan which cost the lives of hundreds has finally  grabbed public attention, even the media. I don't know if this is the first time that the Times even published an article on global warming on the front page (above the fold) but I believe this is the first time it has explicitly blamed global warming for the fires this time in a top-of-the-page headline. And this is only the beginning. As climate scientist Michael Mann is quoted in the lead editorial of the Times of August 10th: “What we call an ‘extreme heat wave’ today we will simply call ‘summer’ in a matter of decades if we don’t sharply reduce carbon emissions.”

    Yet from the first warnings of scientists and the first efforts to come up with plans to restrain emissions, all efforts to reduce emissions have been subordinated to maximizing economic growth: Whatever we do, we MUST NOT slow economic growth. Or, as George Bush Sr. put it: "We will never sacrifice the American way of life." So instead of simply imposing rationing of fossil fuels, suppressing vehicle production, grounding civilian aircraft (all of which President Roosevelt did during WWII), all mainstream efforts from the voluntary curbs of Kyoto in the 1990s to the cap & trade schemes of the 2000s to the carbon tax schemes of today, have been explicitly premised on the assumption that they must not impede growth. In other words, they were all designed to fail. Which they have. In result, as global economic growth soared since the 1980s, so have emissions. So now what?

    We certainly can't expect any change from the powers that be. So long as we live under capitalism, governments, industries, industrial unions, as well as most workers and consumers will continue to prioritize growth over saving the planet because, given capitalism, what else can they do? The planet may collapse tomorrow but degrowth or deindustrialization would mean I’m out of a job today. This is how we drive off the cliff to collapse — “unless” (as the Lorax said) . . .

    Unless we change the conversation. Unless we get people to start thinking about and talking about and working for a viable alternative to the market-driven collapse of civilization. Our job, as ecosocialists is to put forward a practical plan to slam the brakes on emissions, an EMERGENCY RESPONSE TO THE CLIMATE EMERGENCY. This plan has to begin with brutal honesty:

    1. WE CAN’T HAVE AN INFINITELY GROWING ECONOMY ON A FINITE PLANET. This growth-till-we-bust logic “worked” in Adam Smith’s day. But today, this is the road to collective suicide. All mainstream efforts to suppress emissions while maintaining economic growth have failed. The only way to suppress emissions is to suppress emissions: impose firm caps, impose rationing regardless of the impact on the economy. We have to say this, and hammer this point home relentlessly. People and planet have to take priority over profit or we’re doomed.
    2. WE CAN’T SUPPRESS EMISSIONS WITHOUT CLOSING DOWN COMPANIES. Suppressing emissions means closing down the producers of those emissions – the oil companies, auto manufacturers, power plants, chemical companies, construction companies, airlines, etc. According to the EPA in the U.S. the largest generators of CO2 emissions are transportation (28.5%), energy (mainly electricity generation) 28.4%, manufacturing 22%, construction 11%, industrial farming 9%. We have to say to people “Sorry, but lots of companies, beginning with fossil fuel producers but also fossil fuel-based companies will have to be shut down or drastically retrenched. It’s either that or your children are going to burn up in an uninhabitable planet.” This is the only way to suppress emissions in brief window of opportunity we still have left. There is no other alternative.
    3. WE NEED TO SOCIALIZE THOSE COMPANIES, NATIONALIZE THEM, BUY THEM OUT AND TAKE THEM INTO PUBLIC HANDS SO WE CAN PHASE THEM OUT OR RETRENCH THEM. ExxonMobil, General Motors, United Airlines, Monsanto and Cargill can't put themselves out of business even to save the planet because they're owned by private shareholders. Either we save the companies (till the planet collapses) or we take them over and put them out of business or reduce their production to sustainable levels.
    4. IF WE CLOSE DOWN/RETRENCH INDUSTRIES THEN SOCIETY MUST PROVIDE NEW LOW- OR NO-CARBON JOBS FOR ALL THOSE DISPLACED WORKERS AND AT COMPARABLE WAGES AND CONDITIONS. Corporations, typically limited to one line or field of production, like oil production for example, can’t be expected provide new jobs in an entirely different field for displaced workers and have no mandate to do so. Society has do this. Otherwise those workers will not be able to see their way to joining with us to do what we have to do to save them and their children.
    5. WE HAVE TO REPLACE OUR ANARCHIC MARKET ECONOMY WITH A LARGLY, THOUGH NOT ENTIRELY, PLANNED ECONOMY, A BOTTOM-UP DEMOCRATICALLY-PLANNED ECONOMY. The environmental, social and economic problems we face cannot be solved individual choices in the marketplace. They require collective democratic control over the economy to prioritize the needs of society and the environment. And they require national and international economic planning to reorganize and restructure our economies and redeploy labor and resources to those ends. In other words, if humanity is to save itself, we have to overthrow capitalism and replace it with some form of democratic eco-socialism.

    This is the public conversation the whole nation and the whole world needs to be having right now. There is no other alternative. It's up to us ecosocialists to motivate this conversation because no mainstream organization is willing to risk challenging the government, capitalism, unions, workers, and consumers, let alone taking them on all together. Yet the abject failure of all mainstream approaches opens the way for us to put forward more radical approaches to a mass audience. Awful as things are at the moment, this presents a huge opportunity to ecosocialists. But we really need to get moving on this, develop educational materials of all kinds from videos to bumper strips, organize forums, teach-ins, write opinion pieces, and develop ecosocialist politics within the rapidly growing 48,000-member Democratic Socialists of America, and so on.

    Richard Smith is a founder of SystemChangeNotClimsteChange.org and a member of the New York City chapter of Democratic Socialists of America and the national DSA Climate and Environmental Justice Working Group.

    A version of this article first appeared as a contribution to a thread on SCNCC.net, a discussion forum.  If you would like to see the whole thread and join the discussion, click here.

  • Mexican Independent and Democratic Auto Unions Form a New Federation

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    Mexico’s auto workers are for the first time forming a national federation in what is a very significant development both for Mexican labor and for Mexican society as a whole. Ten organizations representing over 25,000 Mexican workers have committed to the new organization.

     

    There have been conversations between Mexican auto industry unions for 20 years, and there have been good relations between the oldest independent auto unions, SITIAVW of Puebla and SITNISSAN of Morelos, but until recently the conversations have included some CTM auto unions that were trying to legitimize themselves as relatively independent. The CTM unions have now dropped out of the conversations, and the truly independent and democratic unions are moving to formalize their alliance and found a legally recognized federation.

    SITIAVW (Independent Union of Workers of Auto Industry VW) is a founding member of the new federation, along with SITAUDI, SITNISSAN (the independent union of Nissan-Cuernavaca, Morelos), STIMAHCS (an auto parts union affiliated with the FAT), los Mineros (miners) of Bombardier Hidalgo (aerospace and auto parts), SNTGT (General Tire), SINTB (Bridgestone Tire), SEGLO (logistics services) and the newly formed SITGM (Goodyear Mexico) of San Luis Potosí.

    SITIAVW and SITAUDI are independent, single-factory unions based in Puebla, SITIAVW with over 10,000 members, SITAUDI with somewhat less

    The addition of auto parts unions and rubber worker unions is an important move, since for every auto assembly worker it is estimated there are at least twice as many parts and component supplier workers.

    The project is sponsored jointly by IndustriALL and IG Metall, and the project organizer is José Luis Rodríguez Salazar, a former president of SITIAVW. Find here a link to a recent IndustriALL article about the struggle of the union at Goodyear.

    This is an incredibly important development in Mexican labor, as the auto, auto parts, tire and aerospace industries are one of the biggest, most important and most advanced industrial sectors of the Mexican economy. The leading role of SITIAVW in this is due to their long history of independence, democracy and militancy, earning them the best contracts in the industry and the respect of the entire labor movement. The project director is also widely respected, as he led SITIAVW through some of its most difficult struggles during the Vicente Fox sexenio (six-year term) and is the only SITIAVW president to have been re-elected and to serve more than one term.

    Equally important in the leadership of this initiative are los Mineros, a powerful national miners union whose leader, Napoleón Gómez Urrutia broke with the corporativist labor movement (CTM, CROC, CROM, allied in the Congreso de Trabajo or Congress of Labor) fifteen years ago and embarked on militant organizing and collective bargaining campaigns, challenging the biggest, most powerful Mexican industrial conglomerate Grupo Mexico, expanding their jurisdiction to aerospace and auto parts, aiding progressive independent organizing projects like CAT-Puebla and CFO on the border.

    Gómez Urrutia was falsely accused and threatened by the Mexican government and has been living in exile in Canada for over ten years, but has been elected Senator on the list of MORENA, the reform party whose presidential candidate Andrés Manuel López Obrador was just elected president. Gómez will return to Mexico to take his seat on September 1, giving the independent labor movement a powerful voice in the Senate. Los Mineros have an affiliation agreement with the United Steel Workers (USW), which represents workers in Canada and the United States.

    This is happening at a time of historic change in Mexican politics, with the defeat of the presidential candidates of the PRI and PAN by López Obrador or AMLO, the founder and leader of MORENA, who was elected in a landslide. This could mean the reform of Mexico's labor laws. The independent labor movement is working to take advantage of this opportunity to become a leading force in Mexican society.

    *Jeffery Hermanson has been a union organizer with ILGWU/UNITE, the Carpenters and the Writers Guild of America since 1977. He was the Field Representative in Mexico for the AFL-CIO Solidarity Center from 2000-2003 and currently works with the International Union Educational League.

     

     

     

  • NYC DSA's Endorsement of Cynthia Nixon: A Reply to Dan La Botz

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    I appreciate Dan La Botz' well-reasoned article, but do not agree with his conclusion.

    As usual, Dan's argument is judicious and clear, courteous to other points of view. Such civility is essential to maintaining the health and vitality of a diverse big tent organization like the Democratic Socialist of America (DSA).

    Those of us like Dan who have spent many decades in Left political organizations have adopted our core political ideas from diverse philosophical and life experiences. We however share a commitment to building a global democratic socialist movement based on the working class majority. The differences are chiefly tactical.

    Today we democratic socialists face great challenges, but at the same time are confronted with rare historical opportunities.  A large fraction of U.S. residents, concentrated in the Millennial generation, are open to democratic socialist ideas, and many seem willing to commit themselves to long-term political struggle.

    DSA is therefore growing rapidly, and is attracting attention in progressive circles and media. Dan correctly identifies the possibility that aspiring progressive politicians may court DSA endorsement and/or even take out a membership card, without a genuine commitment to the full range of democratic socialist values.

    I would argue the flip side. DSA's decision (not an uncontested one!) to support the Bernie Sanders campaign in the Democratic primaries was eventually responsible for laying a foundation for this surge in membership. Sanders was not, and is unlikely to become, a member of DSA; his version of "democratic socialism" is close to Nordic social democracy; and he would never submit to DSA "discipline." Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, whose primary victory was supported by and very useful to building DSA, is of course using Justice Democrats and Sanders to project herself nationally to support other progressive insurgents.

    To be provocative, Sanders and Ocasio-Cortez illustrate the most promising scenario that will help DSA build a much stronger and more diverse democratic socialist movement, including embedding that movement and winning more allies and recruits from the broader progressive movement. I think that those like Dan who argue that the current Democratic Party leadership cannot or will not be able to accommodate that surge are correct. But in order to create the "dirty break" needed to supplant the Democratic Party in the two-party system with a real Left alternative based on the diverse working class – with DSA as a core component – we have to decisively defeat that DP leadership. Nixon's challenge to Cuomo, even if defeated, forms part of that tactic.

    Paul Garver is a retired union official and a longtime DSA member.

     

  • Youth and Our Future: An Era of Superficial Outrage Politics?

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    Many would like to believe that this American period of rampant national-conservatism is nothing more than a short stay in Republican purgatory. It is a reassuring idea that in a few years, as today’s progressive youth becomes a large part of the electorate, the United States will become a shining example of tolerant and progressive prosperity. Just as neo-conservatives envision a global American hegemony built on capitalism and military strength, some progressives have adopted a belief that the United States is destined to reach national political moksha with strong welfare, a prosperous middle class, and minority rights; the nasty racists and homophobes, the “deplorables”, will soon be outnumbered so vastly in the face of common-sense political ideology that the right will simply cease to exist. Unfortunately, this prophecy has proven a myth for millennials—and the nascent Generation Z doesn’t appear to have better prospects.

    Millenials were supposed to be the generation who would sweep away the conservative baby-boomers that elected neo-liberal career politicians like Ronald Reagan and George Bush for good. The results have been disappointing. While a 2017 Pew Research study indicates that millennials are more Democratic and more progressive than any generation before them, another Pew study indicates that millennials have by far the lowest rates of eligible voter turnout. For millennials in a world of increasing globalization and interconnectedness, where tech-savvy young people have the means of truly understanding the injustices around them, it may seem surprising that so few are willing to take the simplest step to better the world in their vision. Regardless of one’s personal agreement with their beliefs, it is clear that many millennials can’t be bothered to put in the time to vote.

    But even if millennials exercised their right to vote, our time of increasingly overt plutocracy raises questions over the utility of voting in the first place. The capitalist erosion of democracy isn’t unique to the modern United States. Through uncountable channels, institutions, and even ideas, the ruling class maintains a cultural hegemony that prevents deviation from the current window of acceptable moderate beliefs: the Overton window. From the sham of the American Dream to the illusion of choice in mainstream media, capital’s power perverts young Americans’ political lives. Sometimes, capitalists dispense with the pleasantries and tell elected lawmakers how to vote. The existing system was built by magnates and executives and continues under their supervision. Given that, it’s not surprising that it’s incredibly hard for any real progress to take form so long as it plays within the existing rules.

    Within the system prescribed by the ruling class, young progressives lack the interest or the will for bettering society. It seems that millennials are more content having it be known how progressive they are, rather than actually effecting the change they claim to want. This phenomenon, dubbed “virtue signaling”, can take many forms—among them, making true but ostentatious statements on low-hanging political fruit. For example, most of the criticisms of Trump I hear on campus are of his latest sex scandal or constant vulgarity. While his antics show his questionable personal character and morals, they hardly constitute terrible politics. More convincing attacks might be on Trump’s rollbacks on numerous critical environmental protections, or his continued expansion of U.S. imperial interests abroad, or his support for warmongering state sponsors of terrorism like Saudi Arabia.

    If young people aren’t even digging into issues that will matter dearly to them in the future, but instead raging at the potty-mouth of one man, then it’s a far reach to assume that they’ll suddenly become well-informed and engaged citizens when they grow up. It’s easier to make broad political statements that lack substance or a need for background knowledge than to actually change society, and that has created a precarious political situation for today’s youth. What will happen when another neoconservative de-regulationist comes along, but this time with slightly more tact? Can millennials be trusted to support ideologically sound candidates, if nearly 70% of their disapproval for Trump stems from his personality issues rather than his policy?

    Today’s voting-age youth grew up during a shift where the political question for individuals in America became one where information and opinions flowed from the top-down. It began with the rise of right-wing conservative talk shows on mass-media channels like Fox in the early 2000’s and simultaneous development of platforms like Youtube and Facebook that allowed for uninformed and often untrue opinions to spread at a breakneck pace. The product was that already-busy Americans were presented with an accessible form of political media that treated them as equals and required little background or deep thought to consume. The simplest topics to discuss are personal matters that everyone can relate to, as opposed to often complex and unclear matters of policy. What we get now is coverage of inane personal issues: Obama using Grey Poupon mustard, or Trump’s typos on Twitter. Sardonically amusing to watch, perhaps, but this type of reporting detracts from education of the public on substantive matters. Now, we have a falsely conscious mass of voting youth who believe they are politically involved when they point out the president’s spelling errors.

    The appeal of widely disseminated yet poorly constructed political beliefs has created opportunities for academic frauds like Stefan Molyneux and Jordan Peterson, just as it catalyzes vitriol against Trump. From the top, FoxNews is relentless in its polarizing barrage of patriotic right-wing propaganda and race relations are at an all-time low in the United States. Youth involvement is only now beginning to rise, but young progressives’ responses still come only after a specific issue has personally affected them. Young progressives are loath to act meaningfully outside of the riggings of the established system, and the most they can give in the standard political arena is occasional moral support. We are headed directly towards an era of superficial outrage politics, if we aren’t already there—and young people are fine with it.

    *Jack Zhang is a sophomore at Phillips Exeter Academy. His columns on youth politics and global student issues have appeared in the Boston Herald and Dissident Voice. He can be contacted at jzhang2@exeter.edu.

     

     

     

  • A Massacre, Not a Coup: A Response to Misinformation on Nicaragua

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    For the past 3 months, progressive websites and journals have run articles that paint a picture of the crisis in Nicaragua that is dangerously misleading.  Many of these articles have been circulated among people on the left who were in solidarity with Nicaragua and the FSLN during the 1970s and 1980s but haven’t kept up with what has happened over the last 30 years—particularly since 2007, when Daniel Ortega returned to the Presidency and has been there since. I’d like to take a moment to correct some misconceptions about the current crisis in Nicaragua.

    I will first say that I consider myself a Sandinista, as do many of my friends and colleagues who are currently resisting the Ortega/Murillo regime, and I have spent most of my life working for peace and social justice in Nicaragua.

    I went to Nicaragua in 1979 and lived there for 20 years after the Sandinista victory. I participated in the Literacy Crusade in Native Languages. During the war, I worked for the Nicaraguan Ministry of Health on the Caribbean Coast. I have been involved with the women’s movement in Nicaragua for almost 30 years, and launched research on domestic violence that was used to pass the first domestic violence law in 1996. I have been an outspoken critic of US intervention in Central America, and other unjust policies, both abroad and at home.

    Since moving back to the US, I travel to Nicaragua several times a year and recently carried out a two-year study on domestic violence, interviewing 1,500 community women, women’s rights activists, and dozens of government officials, including police, judges and health providers.

    Many articles on the current crisis that have been published on leftist websites such as popularresistance.org or Grayzone Project reproduce the talking points of the Ortega/Murillo government: they insist that the opposition is almost already defeated; they are all “coup mongers” (golpistas) made up of US-funded oligarchs and have no popular backing; the majority of the violence is carried out by opposition protesters; and the dozens of young men were killed by snipers who were either mysterious “third party provocateurs,” or “neighborhood self-defense groups” – with no ties to the police or the army. They have referred to the current crisis as an “upside down class war.”

    In fact, what is happening in Nicaragua is a massacre.

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    The first claim, that the opposition has been defeated and consists of exclusively right-wing oligarchs is patently false. This photo shows gigantic peaceful demonstrations in Managua, which make the FSLN demonstration two days prior (which state employees were required to attend) look like Trump’s inauguration crowd compared to Obama’s. The next day Managua was emptied out in support of the national strike called by the oppositionThis hardly looks like the work of a tiny group of bloodsucking parasites, as Rosario Murillo has called them. Indeed, it would take much more than $700,000, which, Grayzone states is the amount the NED has channeled into Nicaraguan non-governmental organizations to mobilize hundreds of thousands of protesters onto the streets, and get them to stop their economic activities and stay home the next day. There is no other plausible motive other than their belief that Ortega and Murillo are behind the repression and must go.

    The next idea floated by the government, that masked men and snipers appearing all over the country, and by all accounts, responsible for a huge proportion of the murders, are a mysterious third party, is ridiculous. It might have been plausible, if Nicaraguans didn’t all have cell phones, weren’t filming everything and posting it onto social media (the government insists the photos are fake).

    Last week, social media has filmed huge caravans with dozens of state and police-owned trucks with masked men, including police, waving guns and shooting into the air. Jacinto Suarez, the External Relations Secretary of the FSLN acknowledged that many of these men are retired Sandinista combatants that were recruited to help repress the demonstration. Even Daniel Ortega, after countless denials of the existence of para-police forces, recently admitted that they were “voluntary police.”

    The Popular Resistance Article links to a video clip that supposedly shows a weapon cache found in a church. In fact, it is actually part of a Univision news story showing the masked thugs beating the Cardinal and Bishops of Managua, including the Papal Nuncio in the Basilica of Diriamba, outside of Managua. Since this could potentially result in an international incident, they also stole many of the cameras of journalists filming. Fortunately, several still got through.

    The police were outside the church and hundreds more masked men were crowding around the outside: although no weapons were found, the church was desecrated and first aid materials and church benches were burned.

    At the insistence of Nicaraguan civil society, the government allowed the Inter-American Human Rights Commission (IACHR) to investigate the situation in Nicaragua. The report was presented at the OAS Assembly on June 30.  It’s worth pausing for a moment on the IACHR Report because it is a truly extraordinary document. The Commission interviewed over 1000 individuals, including family members of those killed, released prisoners, government officials, and other witnesses, and it reviewed hundreds of hours of video recordings, and documents, as well as forensic reports. The report found:

    “The repression on the part of the Government of Nicaragua in response to the protests has resulted in a serious human rights crisis. In particular, the IACHR finds excessive use of force by the police, para-police forces, and groups of armed third persons. This is reflected in more than 212 persons losing their lives as of June 20, as well as in the number of persons wounded and detained arbitrarily, which as of June 6 came to 1,337 and 507 persons respectively, according to the records of the IACHR. Despite the Commission’s call for an immediate cessation of the state repression, it has not stopped. To the contrary, the repressive response has worsened in recent weeks, further accentuating the crisis.”

    The Ortega government’s accusation that investigators did not interview pro-government forces, is simply false. The government was given a draft of the report before it was presented, and all of their comments and denials were incorporated.  It details all of the government’s accusations of violence towards state actors:

    “It has come to the attention of the IACHR that private individuals and groups of civilians have attacked the public security forces, strike groups and individuals and media outlets sympathetic to the government. According to figures provided by the State, from April 18 to June 6, 2018, at least 5 police officers have lost their lives and 65 have been injured in the context of the protests.”

    It also acknowledged the government’s report of 100 acts of violence by non-state actors, including 40 burning incidents or damages to property; 29 kidnappings; 33 robberies of government property (mostly vehicles); 17 violent deaths of individuals linked to the government and the FSLN; and 13 attacks on public officials.

    The problem is that these claims by the government, which tries to present itself as a victim, pale next to the hundreds of complaints lodged and investigated by the IACHR that involved excessive use of force by the police and paramilitary forces. During the first four days of the demonstrations, 49 young men were killed by gun-shot wounds. Of these, 32 were shot in the eyes, heads, neck and chest, all lethal spots indicating an intention to kill. The downward trajectory of the bullet wounds indicated the use of snipers. During the same period 9 young men were wounded by rubber bullets shot directly into their eyes. During the same period 2 policemen died as a result of attacks using firearms.

    There was also ample evidence of refusal to provide medical attention, by police stationed inside the hospitals either preventing the wounded from entering or threatening doctors who tried to treat the wounded. The first documented instance of this was a 15-year-old boy named Álvaro Manuel Conrado Dávila, who was shot in the neck while carrying water to help the students. He was denied medical care at the Cruz Azul (public) hospital and was taken to a second hospital where he subsequently died. In the hospital of Leon, medical students who tried to treat wounded demonstrators were evicted from the hospital; they set up makeshift field hospitals in private homes. Therefore, the actual number of wounded is likely much higher; the figures in the report were compiled by hospital records and do not include those who were denied care, or who were afraid to go to the hospital.

    One of the more nefarious acts that has not received much attention is that family members of the victims were required to sign a document waiving their right to file a complaint to be able to withdraw the corpse or obtain a death certificate. Some of the documents were actually drafted at Police Stations and specifically state that the relatives release the police from any responsibility in the death. No autopsy was performed in most cases, and death certificates were signed based on documents without a personal inspection by the Institute of Forensic Medicine. In other complaints the medical certificates were falsified, noting causes of death such as suicide, heart attacks or traffic accidents, even in the case of gunshot wounds. These false documents have been subsequently used by the government to accuse the IACHR of inflating their numbers by including deaths that had nothing to do with the conflict.

    While they haven’t been given full access to many sites, including the jails, much of the violence has happened while the Commission, and the OAS-sponsored Interdisciplinary Group of Independent Experts (GIEI), were in Nicaragua, witnessing it first-hand.

    GIEI members are distinguished human rights experts, including Claudia Paz y Paz, the Guatemalan Attorney General who prosecuted Efraín Rios Montt, and who can hardly be considered an imperialist tool.

    At the OAS special sessions held last week to present the second report of the IACHR, Executive Secretary Paulo Abrao noted that the violence has escalated in the month since the first report was presented in June, and there are now close to 300 verified deaths, most of whom are civilians killed in state-sponsored violence by the police or paramilitary forces. Nicaraguan Chancellor Denis Moncada denounced the report’s findings and although he admitted that “it is hard to say how many deaths there have been,” he pointed out that many of the civilians killed were Sandinistas – including Angel Gahona, the journalist shot by a sniper in Bluefields while reporting on the protests. This may be true, but it doesn’t mean they were killed by the opposition. A huge number of the protesters are people who historically identified with the FSLN and who were horrified by the government’s brutal response. Although two young men have been arrested for the murder, Gahona’s family is convinced he was killed by the police. It even appears that some police among the dead were having second thoughts about participating in the repression. The mother of policeman Faber Lopez, said that her son had tried to leave the police and was told that if he did, the whole family would be killed. One week later he was killed during an attack on protesters.

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    The government has attempted to blame some of the most horrendous crimes on the protesters, such as an entire family that was burned alive in Managua. Multiple witnesses and the only surviving family members say that armed masked men connected to the police tried to get onto the roof of the three-story building to set up a sniper’s nest. When the family refused to let them in, they set the house ablaze.

    The economic and social progress in the last years by the Ortega regime is being lauded, but again, it needs to be clarified. Although poverty was reduced overall, a study showed that income inequality actually increased from 2009 to 2014, indicating that the wealthy oligarchs are the ones who most benefited from the government’s economic policies. Most of the funds for social programs (the part that did not go into funding FSLN electoral campaigns, and wasn’t funneled into party members’ bank accounts) was funded through more than 3.5 billion dollars in soft loans from Venezuela with petroleum money. Although the loans were made to a mixed business venture called Albanisa and never accounted for in the national budget, the economic crisis in Venezuela has meant the end of subsidies to the social programs in Nicaragua.

    These articles also imply that the U.S. is a major funder of the women’s movement, which is false. In fact, the Global Gag Rule prohibits US funding to any international organizations that promote safe abortions. And, while the Sandinista-led Parliament abolished therapeutic abortions in 2006, even in the case of rape or a risk to the mother’s life, the women’s movement has continued to demand that safe procedures be restored.

    Nicaragua has the largest, most diverse women’s movement in the world. Although it was started by Sandinista women, it has not been linked to any political party since the 1990s, particularly after Daniel Ortega’s stepdaughter, Zoilamerica Narvaez, disclosed that he had been raping her since she was a child. Her case was ignored in the country because as an ex-president and member of Parliament, Ortega had immunity from prosecution—although it was looked into by the Inter-American Human Rights Commission in 2000 (the case was eventually closed in 2002, when the Nicaraguan government accepted the IACHR’s recommendation to reach an amicable agreement with Narvaez). She had a very credible claim, which was an open secret among high-level Sandinistas, who swept the accusations under the carpet in order to regain power. No wonder Ortega doesn’t like the IACHR. Many experts consider that a combination of impunity for sexual offenders (starting with Ortega),and the abortion ban have contributed to Nicaragua’s soaring rates of adolescent pregnancy, among the highest in Latin America.

    Increasing women’s access to justice and services for gender-based violence has long been a key goal for the women’s movement in Nicaragua. I carried out a prevalence study of domestic violence in Nicaragua in 1995, which was used as the basis for the first domestic violence law in 1996. We found that 50% of women had been beaten or raped by their partner, one of the highest figures in Latin America, despite the apparently progressive discourse of the Sandinista revolution. During the 90s and the beginning of the 2000s, the women’s movement achieved enormous progress in raising awareness around domestic violence, and improving laws and services for survivors of violence. Once Ortega and Murillo took over the government, programs such as the specialized police stations for women and children were systematically dismantled. Rosario Murillo has explicitly promoted “family values” over women’s rights and put new processes in place that make it more difficult for survivors to report violence or obtain justice. The recent follow-up study we just completed in Nicaragua shows that, although there was a decline in levels of domestic violence over a twenty-year period, there is almost nothing left of the original programs that were set up through the efforts of the women’s movement. As a result, women human rights defenders were already concerned that domestic violence and femicides were on the rise again, even before the current crisis.

    This brings us to the issue of U.S. support for the opposition. The only evidence of US support to opposition groups was reported by the Grayzone project, estimating that $700,000 in 2017 had been granted through the National Endowment for Democracy to a handful of Nicaragua NGOs, totaling $4.4 million over 4 years. Since this relatively paltry sum does not fit the Ortega propaganda machine’s narrative of massive US funding for a right-wing coup, the amount was adjusted upwards to $500 million dollars, with absolutely no evidence to back it up.

    It is true that the opposition is extremely diverse, which reflects many different agendas—including the business community. But this is not unique in Nicaraguan history. When the FSLN overthrew Somoza in 1979, they benefited from a broad-based coalition that included business interests and oligarchs in the Reconstruction Government, a strategy that validated Ortega’s Tercerista branch of the party. The fact that today’s opposition is so diverse and includes social movements from all political ideologies should tell us about Ortega’s and Murillo’s lack of support: a recent Cid Gallup poll found that nearly 70% of the Nicaragua people thinks Ortega and Murillo should go. After the repression of the last three months, the current regime has zero credibility.

    On July 13th, police and paramilitary forces attacked UNAN, the national public university, which students have occupied for the last few months. When some left the university to find refuge in a nearby church, government forces surrounded it and shot at them in a 15-hour siege. The police closed all the roads to UNAN and refused to let ambulances evacuate the wounded. During this time, the students were sending messages via Facebook, begging for help and saying goodbye to their parents. Hundreds of people came by foot and cars in the middle of the night to hold a peaceful vigil for the students in front of the police roadblocks. Coincidentally, Joshua Partlow, a Washington Post reporter, was trapped in the church with the wounded students and wrote a harrowing account of the experience.  

    As a result of the UNAN attacks and multiple brutal “clean up” operations carried out by the police and paramilitaries to clear the roadblocks in time for the 39th anniversary of Liberation Day, the Ortega regime is becoming increasingly isolated internationally.  Currently 49 countries, including the European Union and the Organization of American States, have condemned the state-sponsored violence in Nicaragua. Rupert Colville, spokesperson for the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR), criticised the new anti-terrorism law approved by the Parliament on July 9 for using “a very broad definition of terrorism, which raises concerns that it could be used against people taking part in protests.” In fact, this is exactly what is happening now, as the crisis enters a new phase where protesters are being tracked down and arrested under the charge of terrorism.

    Significantly, some of Ortega’s closest allies, such as Jose Mujica, the former President of Uruguay, have also finally turned their backs on him.  Only three weeks ago, on July 5, Mujica called for international leftists to stand with Ortega against right wing forces. One week later, he admitted he had been wrong, and that it was now time for Ortega to leave. Similarly, Noam Chomsky, who had been silent until recently, has also advised Ortega to call for early elections.

    Ortega’s claims to have vanquished the opposition notwithstanding, this crisis is far from over. Ultimately, Ortega’s insistence on retaining power, even if elections were moved up to next year (which he refuses to do), means more bloodshed for Nicaraguans. This is why progressives need to show solidarity with the authentic resistance movement, which includes the women’s movement, most student groups, environmentalists, and the anti-canal farmers movement.

    It is monstrous and heartbreaking to think that Ortega and Murillo could be murdering their own people just to stay in power. Having worked for the Ministry of Health during the 80s, I would never have believed a few months ago that protesters could die because the public hospitals refused to admit them, or that doctors could be dismissed or jailed for treating them. But that is exactly the point.

    What is happening right now is monstrous.

    Ortega and Murillo could end the massacre immediately by disarming the paramilitary forces, bringing those guilty of crimes against humanity to justice, and engaging in good faith national dialogue. Those of us on the left should be able to be to adapt to changed realities: none of us wants a return to a right-wing government in Nicaragua, and we should continue to oppose U.S. intervention. But that doesn’t mean we must accept the status quo or the ruthless abuse of power. Our solidarity should be with the Nicaraguan people, who are being killed, not with a political party. Otherwise, this bloodbath can only get worse.

     

    Dr. Mary Ellsberg is a Professor of Global Health and International Studies, and Founding Director of the Global Women’s Institute of the George Washington University in Washington, DC.

    This article is reprinted with permission from Pulse.

  • Return of the Strike: The Teachers Rebellion in the United States: A Forum

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    A Forum on the Teachers Rebellion in the United States with Tithi Bhattacharya, Eric Blanc, Kate Doyle Griffiths, Lois Weiner. Edited and introduced by Jeffery R. Webber

    Few anticipated a labour upsurge in the United States in early 2018, and fewer still expected a blaze to ignite among teachers in West Virginia, or for it to spread to Oklahoma, Arizona, Kentucky, and Colorado. Ellen David Friedman poses one of the questions which immediately springs to mind: “why is this stunning revolt occurring where unions are weak, where labor rights are thin, and where popular politics are considered to be on the Right?”[1]

    Just last year, the United States registered the second lowest number of work stoppages involving 1,000 or more strikers since data collection began in the Department of Labour in 1947. There were only seven such stoppages in 2017, amounting to a total of 440,000 idle days.[2] Between January and May 2018, the tide turned, largely as a result of the teachers’ revolt: 16 work stoppages, 556,200 workers involved, and 1,885,200 idle days.[3]

    On the back of three fierce decades of neoliberal restructuring, the austerity measures implemented in the wake of the Great Recession eroded the world of work still further. There were 68,000 state government jobs cut between 2009 and late 2016, alongside 418,000 at the local government level. Teachers, especially, were in the line of fire. ‘While between 2008 and 2015 the number of students rose by 804,000,’ Kim Moody points out, ‘the number of teachers fell by 297,000 – with women accounting for the majority of these workers.’[4] For those still employed, wages and benefits have been ruthlessly scaled back. Job security has been reduced, with the lengthening of probation periods and weakening of tenure systems. Meanwhile, austerity measures have annihilated provisions for student services and public school building infrastructure has been left to decay. Ideologically, a bipartisan pact between Republicans and Democrats has underpinned ‘the hysterical drumbeat that public schools are failing and must be replaced with private charters.’[5]

    At a more general level, unions have been in structural decline in the United States, and where they have survived they have often been refashioned into business unions, inclined above all to cooperation with bosses and the state. In the private sector, union membership was only 7.6 percent in 2015, with the public sector membership down as well, to 35.2 percent. Union membership overall has declined 45 percent since the 1970s, while strike activity has fallen an astonishing 95 percent.[6] Across the working class, living standards and working conditions have declined, while work has been intensified and degraded through myriad managerial innovations. Hourly and weekly real wages sit below their 1972 level.[7]

    On the one hand, the public education sectors endures as a stronghold of unionization within this otherwise bleak landscape. The National Education Association (NEA) is the largest union in the country, with 3.2 million members, while the American Federation of Teachers (AFT) has a further 1.7 million.[8] On the other hand, the bureaucratization of teachers’ unions has run in tandem with the turn to business unionism elsewhere. ‘By the 1980s,’ David Friedman notes, ‘as the numbers of unionized teachers swelled and dues revenue soared, the unions began to staff up and professionalize, precipitating a culture of negotiating instead of fighting, servicing instead of organizing, and relegating members to client status… leaders adopted key principles such as rule by experts, inflated executive salaries, limits on internal democracy, centralization of decision-making, and intolerance of dissent.’[9] For Chris Brooks, likewise, ‘the staff-driven, top-down structure of the state associations leaves many teachers and school support personnel feeling only loosely connected to the union,’ which helps to explain why in West Virginia, Kentucky, Oklahoma, and Arizona, walkouts and rallies were dependent upon alternative, rank-and-file organizations to the union, even when the union itself was involved to varying degrees.[10]

    This forum provides both panoramic and fine-grained analyses of the teachers’ rebellion, with the discussion spanning everything from large-scale structural conditions to local-level strategies of organization. We examine the relations between union bureaucracies and the rank and file; the wider political context of the United States and how it has conditioned the roll out of the struggle thus far; the geography of the strike and the specificity of the public education sector; the immediate and longer-term grievances underlying the eruption; the relationship between spontaneity and organization in the dynamic of the strikes; the role of specific cultural contexts and labour histories in the different states; the factors involved in strategies and tactics jumping from one state to another; the centrality of social reproduction and the politics of gender; the politics of race and racism in shaping the terrain of conflict; and the potentialities and obstacles facing the teachers in the coming months and years, as well as what it all means for the labour movement more generally in the United States.

    Jeffrey Webber: Could you begin by briefly describing your political and intellectual formation and reflect on how this background has affected your engagement with and perception of the strike wave.

    Tithi Bhattacharya (TB): I grew up in a staunch Communist Party (CP) family in India in the 1970s. For me, strikes were called by ‘Parties’ as opposed to labour unions. In my experience political parties, of the left and the right, called strikes, they were often one-day affairs, and were very much managed by political leaders from above. I was too young to remember the brilliant Railway Strike of 1974— very much led by a militant labour union—so my first encounter with a strike of a different order was the Bombay textile strike of 1982. It was majestic: involved hundreds and thousands of workers in India’s commercial centre and posed a real threat to the Indira Gandhi government. I remember my parents saying that its defeat was equivalent to the defeat of the miners by Thatcher. It is not that I understood what a struggle from below is, or the power of rank and file organizing, but I knew that the textile strike was different.  Later, when I became a Trotskyist and understood the politics of a rank and file strategy, it was the 1982 strike that sutured experience to analysis for me.  The teacher’s strikes this spring, and the effect of this strike wave in other sections of the labour movement, is history reminding capitalism of the power of workers and the power of the self-activity of ordinary workers over the bureaucratic power of union leaders.

    Eric Blanc (EB): I come from a family of teachers, labour militants, and socialists. I began organizing around public education issues in high school in San Francisco, followed by the University of California, Santa Cruz. After graduating from college, I was a high school teacher in the East Bay and I was an organizer in various movements in defence of public education in California. As a socialist, I’ve always seen these struggles as part of broader movement of working people against capitalist exploitation. I’m now a doctoral student in sociology at NYU, which has given me some new institutional resources to conduct sustained research on the labour movement and public education struggles in particular.

    Kate Doyle Griffiths (KDG): I come from a family with ties to the labour movement and to some extent socialist/communist politics as well as a decidedly feminist sensibility and tradition of women working in health and education; as a teen I was very interested in campaign finance reform and questions of democracy.  I was radicalized in 1999, when ‘teamsters and turtles’ – an alliance between local Seattle teamsters and an international coalition of environmentalists and anarchists—played a starring role in shutting World Trade Organization meeting in Seattle through direct action.  It seemed to me then to mark that a kind of political engagement through direct action was possible in the present and shifted my political interest toward the potentially transformative power of the labour movement and worker struggle.  I promptly transferred to NYU in part because, at the time, it was the site of a well-developed anti-sweatshop campaign by United Students Against Sweatshops (USAS.) There, I became heavily involved in a group called Students for Social Equality, through which we supported graduate worker union agitation with the UAW and other campus union activity, USAS, and the antiwar movement, among other things.  We thought it was important to introduce the idea of local campus and community- based student-labour solidarity into USAS’s national agenda and succeeded in doing that. So, the kinds of issues that are driving the wave of teacher strikes have long been the things that have motivated me politically.

    During this period, I was involved with Union Summer in a campaign on the Gulf Coast, and a bunch of organizing drives in New York City, I met a pretty large variety of socialist activists, including grad student militants from the socialist organization Solidarity, who were initially described to me by a UAW staffer as ‘the radicals from the History department,’ and not meant in a positive light. I was a History major myself, so I figured I should meet them. The department at the time was staffed by an incredible array of marxist historians who led seminars I was lucky to be able to participate in; Robin D.G. Kelley was the chair, and I got to take classes with him as well as with Marilyn Young, Molly Nolan, Manu Goswami and Elizabeth Esh, sometimes more than once. I took a Gender Studies minor, and the periodization of the women’s movement and the framework for debates I learned then from Lisa Duggan is still the one that I teach.  It was a formative experience of learning about a range of Marxist, feminist, anti-racist analysis in concrete historical contexts, from politically committed intellectuals who were also women and/or scholars of colour. It was important, I think, for seeing myself in that role.  Solidarity’s commitment to the development of that kind of politics in practice shaped me indelibly, as has the mentorship and example of comrades who are probably too numerous to name or fully explicate within this word count. I’m no longer a member, but it would be hard to overstate the impact the group had on my intellectual and political disposition.  Through the New York University History department, and Solidarity, I not only got an education in the history of the socialist movement (broadly anarchist, Communist Party USA, Trotskyist/post-Trotsyist)  and labour movements, the women’s movement, the anti-war movement, and to the radical black tradition but also a lot of exposure to theories and practices for organizing.

    For a period after graduation, I worked as a staff organizer and fundraiser for Teamsters for a Democratic Union (TDU), an exciting thing for me because that was when I learned about the role that caucusing and fights for union democracy had played as a kind of ‘hidden script,’ making the Seattle moment of militancy possible, along with the relationship between rank and file organizing and the 1997 UPS strike, one of the few class-conscious bright spots in USA labour history during the period of my lifetime. Awareness of that 90’s moment of struggle certainly situated my interest in teacher strikes from that period and their relationship to what is taking place today.

    This background affected my engagement with the strike wave on a number of other, different levels; it attuned me to the difference between the first deal announced in West Virginia and the comments and assessments of rank and file teachers I encountered online; enough to make me get on a plane before a full blown wildcat had been put into action. My political and academic background primed me to see the possibility of a broader wave of strikes, to see them as a potential turning point for the workers’ movement, and to hold out faith in the capacity of rank-and-file workers to organize workplace and social networks toward active solidarity in ways that might from the outside seem sudden, and in advance of their expression, unlikely.  In South Africa during the period I lived and researched there, similar strikes in the public sector paved the way to widespread and ongoing rank and file action in the private sector, which anticipated and constitutes ongoing political crises for the ruling ANC; this shaped my attention to the role of state-employed workers in acting as a transmission belt, who are in a position to turn a broad crises of social reproduction into a political confrontation between workers and the ruling class precisely because the state, here, is also the boss. South Africa attuned me to the lessons this might hold for workers more broadly and the possibility that the strike may spread.  All this also shaped my approach in situ; while Im always interested in the experiences of formal and self-identified leaders, I was most interested in learning about how the strike was organized and why, where the organization and political line emerged, from the perspective of teachers and other workers who were running the carpools, pickets, student lunches, school-wide voting, and t-shirt design.

    Lois Weiner (LW): As an undergraduate in the 1960s, I was immersed in movement politics: anti-war, civil rights and labour, attracted to the ideas of ‘socialism from below’ and ‘third camp socialism.’ I trained to become a high school teacher.  I taught journalism, English and was a union activist for fifteen years in public schools in California, suburbs of New York, and last in New York City. In New York City’s United Federation of Teachers (UFT), I was a building leader, active in city-wide union politics. I later became a college professor and teacher educator, specializing in urban teaching.  In 2003, I began to read widely about neoliberalism’s global transformation of work and education and began a collabouration with Mary Compton, former president of the UK’s National Union of Teachers (NUT), to support teacher union resistance globally.  Our edited collection, The Global Assault on Teaching, Teachers, and Teachers Unions: Stories for Resistance (Palgrave Macmillan, 2008) initiated many projects to develop teacher union solidarity internationally and push the international confederation of teachers unions, the Education International, to break with its cooperative relations with the World Bank and the Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD). Part of that work was Mary’s creation of www.teachersolidarity.com, which a collective has managed since her death. Simultaneous to my research on neoliberalism’s global project in education, I again became a union activist, in my higher education local, making equality of adjunct faculty a key principle.   The global and local work were key in my producing The future of our schools: Teachers unions and social justice (Haymarket Press, 2012), which is being used in the Anglophone world by teachers who see the need for better unions.

    This strike wave has demonstrated an intensity and scale of self-activity and organization of workers we have not seen in the US in decades and has confirmed the driving principle of my lifetime of union work, Marx’s dictum ‘the emancipation of the working class must be the act of the working class itself.’  It has also demonstrated the power of ideas that I first experienced in the women’s movement in the 1970s, understandings about social relations that have supported my lifetime commitment as a socialist and political activist.

    The strike wave is evidence that teaching is real work and teachers are real workers.  It is a needed corrective about the marginalization of education as a field of study and analysis for the Left, beyond those directly in the schools.  Education has low status within the academy because it is an applied subject – the academy rewards the abstract and theoretical – but also because education is women’s work. Teaching is not valued labour in the academy, a reality demonstrated in many ways, from the low pay adjunct faculty receive to the assumption that faculty need no preparation to teach.

    Though the strikers have not identified the movement as being feminist, the broad support of the strike among teachers reflects the #metoo movement’s rebirth of feminist consciousness.  Elementary school teachers, who are one-third of the teaching force, are overwhelmingly female. They are generally not interested in politics and become teachers because they love and want to work with children.  My  earliest union work taught me that when a union is democratic and encourages voice, and when  elementary school teachers see the union supports their  commitment to be present for ‘their kids,’  they support militant action.  Neither democracy nor support for non-monetary concerns has characterized teachers unions for many years, because of their embrace of business unionism.

    As a union activist, I was often not sure about how to address racism, but as an educator of city teachers, I’ve learned from and with my colleagues of colour about how to address the unions’ silence about systemic racism in education.  In the Oklahoma and Kentucky strikes, race and racism were unspoken. Yet Tulsa, Oklahoma City, and Louisville were all strongholds of the walkouts and have African American communities that have uneasy relationships with teachers’ unionism. Arizona’s intense anti-immigrant politics have been inseparable from the Right’s attack on public education. I’ve found that race doesn’t emerge as a subject in union discussions unless those of us who are alert to racism’s salience and are outside the union but support its struggles push on it.

    Because of my background as an educational researcher, I’ve tried to correct the lack of analysis about how teachers’ work has been altered by the project to privatize the education sector. The other aims have been to diminish access to higher education and control what is taught, synchronizing  education with capitalist economic and social relations assumed (by the ruling class) to be inevitable.

    JW: Each of you has conducted analytical reportage from the scene of one or more of the different strikes which constitute this ongoing cycle. Can you explain which strikes you have covered and what your point of entry was into each of them?

    TB: When it was clear that something was going to happen in West Virginia, I just got in my car and started to drive.  If this was going to be the first wild cat strike in decades, led by and shaped by hundreds of women, I had to be there. My friend, the feminist journalist, Sarah Jaffe gave me the names of the teachers that she had spoken with in a recent interview.  One of them was Jay O’Neil.  I did not know then that I was about to meet someone who was one of the first to start a process of organizing that was going to become this tsunami.

    After my time in West Virginia, undoubtedly one of the best weekend of my life, I slowly began to speak with other teachers and education activists around the country.  This was not because I had some genius inkling that the West Virginia strike would spread.  It was the outpouring of solidarity from teachers and workers in other states that I witnessed while at that statehouse in WEST VIRGINIA.  As one Arizona teacher later told me ‘when they did it, I know we could too.’ So this was why I again just got in the car and drove to Louisville, Kentucky where, thanks to the contacts shared with me by Lois Weiner, I met some fantastic teachers who were fighting a difficult battle of organizing against a racist bill that was being tacked on to the bill that attacked teachers’ pensions.

    EB: I was Jacobin’s on-the-ground correspondent during the West Virginia, Oklahoma, and Arizona strikes and I helped organize national solidarity efforts to support the strikers. In part due to my experience as a teacher and as an activist, strike leaders in West Virginia and Arizona gave me access to their organizing meetings and Facebook groups.

    KDG: Unfortunately, I have only been able to travel, so far, to West Virginia. I have developed phone contact and conversation with a few different activists and organizers in Oklahoma, Kentucky, Arizona and Colourado. My point of entry to each was, to be honest, Facebook.  In retrospect this makes sense given how much organizing has taken place on Facebook and Twitter; I was able to read comments and debates from rank and file West Virginia teachers, who were the first people to alert me that an initial victory might not be all that it seemed, and that teachers were talking wildcat.  Since then, and as facebook discussion in new strike states has gotten to be more public I’ve been able to keep up with the online teacher debate. That said, my new contacts in states beyond the first strike have come largely through online feminist and queer networks; people I already ‘knew’ through non-labour and largely non-hard-left internet spaces, including in one case an online discussion group for atheist mothers. Of course, for left contacts in each area on and off-line left contacts and relationships are also quite important.

    But there is really no substitute for being there and meeting people ‘IRL.’ Because I went to West Virginia primarily as an organizer for the International Women’s Strike (IWS), I was initially introduced by my left contacts (from Democratic Socialists of America [DSA] and Working Families Party [WFP]) to liberal feminist activists, from West Virginia Free and Planned Parenthood, those were the first people I met. I could have taken this to be diversionary to my aims of investigating the strike, but instead it furnished me with two crucial insights. First, that even among liberal activists who were habituated to  understanding struggle purely in terms of lobbying and elections, the conflict between union staff and leaders and the rank and file was, at least in the moment I arrived, quite apparent and obvious to people who might not be attuned to looking for that. Second, that the struggle by teachers and support staff for wages, health care and resources was taking place concurrently with a direct legislative attack on the rights of women and queer people in West Virginia, and later, I realized, also across the country in states where the strike has spread. It made it easy to identify both the points of convergence and of conflict between a strike framed by its activists as ‘not about politics’ and the efforts of Democratic Party partisans who were suspicious even of activist women workers because they included among their ranks (as a minority) some of the voters that had helped to turn West Virginia into a ‘red’ state in the sense of being dominated by Republican Party politics. I found both categories of activist surprisingly open to the more explicitly feminist and political (but nonpartisan) approach of IWS on the one hand, and to the more direct action and class-oriented elements of the IWS framework on the other.  Talking to strikers and activists in West Virginia reminded me a lot of liberal-left politics in my home state of Texas, and gave me a lot of hope for the development of a class politics that takes on political issues and which can bring some clarity to the conflicts between ‘women’ and ‘workers’ that, in my view, are often artificial and exacerbated by bourgeois political parties and interests.

    To me, the most important aspect of the victory in West Virginia was the degree of solidarity, in practice, between teachers, support staff, and other public sector workers. While they weren’t able to win concretized gains on health care, just winning a state-wide raise beyond their own pay checks set a tone for the strikes that followed and represent still a high water-mark of the strike; since then teachers have had more difficulty winning broad demands or consolidating them; the element of a successful state-wide wildcat is, I think, what made that possible and makes West Virginia still particular. The goal is to understand dynamics that made that happen and how those can be deepened in West Virginia and elsewhere.

    LW: As a career teacher and union activist with a second career as an education researcher and teacher educator, involved in socialist politics and anti-racism work for many years, I’m in many networks of people who don’t ordinarily connect with one another. My involvement with radical teachers precedes this strike wave, going back even before I met with Caucus of Rank-and-File Educators (CORE) activists as they were organizing their campaign to win the Chicago Teachers Union (CTU) election. I think of my relationship to the movement as a ‘critical friend.’ Sometimes my contact with teachers is negotiated by progressive education faculty who work with communities of colour and teachers active in anti-racism and immigrant rights struggles. In several places, teachers have contacted me directly after having read my book.

    In the current strike wave, I was put in touch with leaders in two states by a labour activist in the Midwest who admires my work. A teacher active in the Bad Ass Teachers (BATS) in New Jersey is in contact with BATS in almost every state. If I want to become involved, I ask her how to do so. Once I was invited/allowed onto the closed or secret Facebook page I identified myself as a guest and supporter.  If I thought I could help, I offered to do so.  As I’m fairly well-known in education circles as a friend to teachers and union supporter, I’m asked to participate in phone calls.  I’ve been involved advising leaders in West Virginia, Kentucky, Oklahoma, and Arizona.  North Carolina is not yet on people’s radar, but a walkout is in the works there. Organize 2020, a reform caucus already exists and is taking responsibility for the action.

    I have seen my role as learning about what is new in this movement and establishing relationships with activists, so I am available to support them when they are ready to tackle transforming the unions.  That should be on the agenda, everywhere.

    JW: These strikes took place against a historical backdrop of a major decline in union membership in the United States, and a longstanding and debilitating turn toward business unionism. Walkouts often began outside of official unions. Can you explain what part the legacy of business unionism played in different cases, the role of union bureaucracies, and the evolution of relations between the mobilized strikers and their union leaderships over the course of these disputes?

    TB: We have all written about the complicated relationship the strikers had to the union.  There were three components to that relationship:

    (a) a large number of strikers had no union experience, and even less knowledge of labour history;

    (b) those that were unionized had a set of expectations from the union.  But these were expectations that were about what the union could deliver for them, seeing the union as a service provider rather than as a tool for their own struggle. There is a reason for this. The post war ‘labour peace’ in the US was achieved by capital through a disastrous partnership with unions.  The business union model that developed from it was marked by unions negotiating health care and pensions with private employers for their members.  These strikes, whether by unionized workers or non-unionized ones, are an effort to defend those past gains;

    (c) when the union leadership failed to ‘deliver’ that’s when a leap in consciousness and struggle was made with strikers defying their union and refusing the mealy compromises the leadership was offering.  The other challenge to the business union model posed by these strikes has been in what can be called the ‘solidarity model’ where in several states including West Virginia and Kentucky, strikers have insisted on fighting for all public sector employees, not just teachers.  This is an important blow to a sectoral understanding of struggle and has real potential for the future.[11]

    EB: In all of these states, labour-management ‘cooperation’ has led to concession after concession over the past decades. Instead of building workplace power or strikes, unions have generally focused on public relations campaigns and lobbying Democratic Party politicians.

    The initiative for work stoppages in Arizona, Oklahoma and West Virginia clearly came from rank-and-filers, not the top bureaucracy. But relations between the ranks and the union differed considerably in each state.

    Many commentators underestimate the importance of unions in West Virginia’s strike. Of course, the state-wide Facebook group created by Charleston radicals in November 2017 was a crucial rank-and-file organizing hub throughout the course of the movement. And while it’s true that West Virginian unions were weakened by the absence of collective bargaining, the decline of coal, and years of retreats, some of most influential rank-and-file strike leaders were elected local representatives of their unions.

    These leaders, including the local union presidents, functioned like shop stewards, since they were still full-time workers. They were able to lean on the existing union infrastructures to organize the strike and to overcome the initial hesitations of the top union officials – and to continue the strike after the labour leaderships prematurely called the strike off after reaching a deal with the governor.

    In contrast, Oklahoma’s rank-and-file activists had virtually no base in the unions, which made it much harder for them to cohere a militant network to drive the strike forward. This lack of roots in the unions – combined with their lack of organizing experience generally – pushed Oklahoman rank-and-file leaders to rely very heavily on Facebook, a useful but limited mobilizing tool. It also facilitated an often unproductively antagonistic relationship with the union. As such, Oklahoma did not experience the months of build-up actions and school-by-school strike votes that played such a key role in building, unifying, and legitimizing the West Virginia action. In Oklahoma, the rank-and-file’s level of organization at the workplace remained weak, even after the strike began.

    Through strategic clarity and tactical creativity, Arizona’s rank-and-file group – Arizona Educators United (AEU) – not only surpassed the level of rank-and-file organization reached by West Virginia, it built an organization almost double the size of the official education union.  The organizational strength and legitimacy of AEU transformed it into a body resembling a bona-fide trade union more than a loose rank-and-file network.

    Part of the reason for this anomalous development is that the wariness or hostility that labour officials tend to display toward militant rank-and-file movements was generally absent in Arizona. In other words, a critical factor enabling the rise of AEU has been the active support of the Arizona Education Association (AEA), Arizona’s official educators’ union. Various AEU leaders and site liaisons are also local AEA union activists. More surprisingly, the top union leadership also backed the rank-and-file movement.

    ‘Teachers are the drivers of this bus, we’re steering the struggle,’ noted AUE leader Rebecca Garelli. ‘But the union is our parallel and it has really supported us.’ Whether this dynamic will continue now that the strike has ended remains to be seen.

    KDG: The most important and overriding failure of business unionism that is relevant here is the failure to meaningfully challenge the right-to-work[12] labour regime when it was limited to the South and broadly the failure to organize the unorganized or push back against labour laws that often outlaw strike action and even collective bargaining for public sector workers. This is tied to a second, crucial error, the commitment of the organized labour movement to operate as a source of funding and foot soldiers for a Democratic Party that has failed to defend unions against a four decade long ruling class offensive, and which, in the particular situation of teachers, has often led the charge.

    That has set the context of the strikes; in some cases right-to-work is a very recent development, and in most cases statehouses dominated by Democrats initiated the cuts to wages, health care and funding in education starting in the late eighties and early nineties. It put teachers unions in very marginal position when teachers and support staff began to move; the idea that the union could or should be the place to organize that movement was pretty far removed from most people’s experience and instinct. As a result, most of the teachers I have spoken with see unions as useful when they have followed and consolidated teacher demands, and often as a positive resource in the legal defence of teachers, for striking unlawfully and in regular workplace disputes. On the other hand, when unions have pushed for premature deals and a slower process of escalation, teachers have seen them as a source of conservatism and at times betrayal. Union leaderships themselves, where they don’t have bargaining power, industry density or the legal right to strike, have a hard time positioning themselves as the only or main legitimate leaders of the teacher struggle, and have a lot of catch up work to do in terms of educating members and potential members about the internal democratic mechanisms that exist within unions, if that’s a goal.  Of course, current union leaders have a contradictory interest in terms of seeking new members while not necessarily encouraging those new and newly activated to run for office as political opponents in future union elections. Instead, they have tended to push teachers into less confrontational and more symbolic action, and toward state-wide and national government elections as the arena for long term change, while also playing a crucial role as bargaining agent, albeit an agent whose only power to bargain is directly derived from the more militant actions led and propagated by teachers themselves, given their legally marginal role as minority representatives without collective bargaining rights.

    To me, that means that the left, and newly activated and organized teachers are the main potential source for any organized attempt at spreading and deeping strike action, and for consolidating the lessons and victories of the strikes.

    LW: This question is very important because it asks us to look critically at the unions, which makes many on the Left uncomfortable. As I’ve written elsewhere and told activists, if the unions had been doing what they should, the Facebook pages and the movement they spawned wouldn’t have been needed.  The vast majority of teachers in these states are not union members, and they give reasons familiar to teachers in most districts, not only in Red states: the unions are invisible in the schools and seem irrelevant to teachers’ lives. Facebook provided the forum and organizing space most of their state teachers unions would not.  With one exception, discussion and decision-making on the FB pages were extraordinarily democratic, especially in contrast to the secretive functioning of officers and staff of the state unions. Still, local union activists, on the county level and in cities, especially in West Virginia, were often key in coordinating the energy and activism of the Facebook pages.

    In addition to defining their purpose primarily as protecting members’ narrowly conceived economic interests, business unions construct a very limited role for the workers they represent. Members are passive, with limited authority and voice. Their sole ‘power’ is to pay dues and cast votes in what are generally uncontested elections for officers. The implicit arrangement is that members do what the experts (staff and officers) tell them and in return, the union delivers at least modest economic gains in contract negotiations. Even under the best of circumstances, the union is limited in what it can ‘deliver’ to improve teachers’ work lives (and the quality of education) because collective bargaining laws strictly limit what can be negotiated. Many issues teachers care most about, like selection of teaching materials, fall outside the scope of bargaining. These issues have become increasingly important as teachers’ work has been transformed: standardized testing and ‘data driven instruction,’ methods of surveillance and control, have reduced autonomy and increased work load while reducing time for interactions with students that actually help them. Regulations that ‘push in’ students with special needs without providing needed supports create tremendous stress for teachers. ‘Merit’ pay based on ‘performance,’ defined as scores on standardized tests, means that those who teach the students with most needs are under the most pressure, yet the conditions in their schools are often the worst.

    Though they differ in their rhetoric, in practice both the American Federation of Teachers (AFT) and National Education Association (NEA) act on the assumption that gains are won through the personal relations highly-placed union officials have with politicians who are ‘friends of labour.’ This disempowers members and encourages passivity.  The strikes have shown that we need organization that gives access to politicians to realize our economic and political demands. We also need mobilization to make that access happen.

    JW: With regard to the wider political context, these strikes have taken place against a backdrop of contradictory trends in the United States. On the one hand, the last several years have witnessed the Occupy Movement, the immigrant rights movement, the Wisconsin protests, the Chicago teachers’ strike, Black Lives Matter (BLM), the Fight for Fifteen, Me Too (#metoo), the International Women’s Strike (IWS), the politicization of new layers of young people around the Bernie Sanders campaign, and the concomitant growth of socialist organizations – especially the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA) – among other dynamics. On the other hand, we have witnessed the bankruptcy of Hilary Clinton and the ascendancy of Donald Trump. Many of the teacher strikes are occurring in Red states, controlled by the Republicans. What role has this political backdrop played? What are the dynamics of party politics in all of this? To what extent could the November 2018 pull of electoralism – a call to vote for the Democrats – stifle the nascent growth of a fighting, rank-and-file infrastructure in the labour movement in these states and others?

    TB: Many of the social movements you list —Occupy, BLM, IWS etc— are non-workplace struggles.  The CTU strike and Fight for 15, being the two big exceptions.  It is also a list of movements most of which emerged from the wreckages of the crash of 2008-09 (the immigrant right movement slightly preceded it). I see the following as challenges to how we, as the Left, understand, prognosticate and participate in the struggles ahead:

    Naming: We must jettison the notion once and for all that only struggles at the point of production can bear the name of class struggles. All the social movements of the last decade or so are examples of the US working class responding to the various dynamics of capitalist social relations.

    Expressions: Politicization of the class, then, has been rapid if somewhat uneven, but the expressions of this politicization has remained largely sectoral.  The various struggles, important exceptions exist, have not generalized their issues/demands beyond immediate goals or made conscious efforts to seek allies.

    Tools: The above two challenges are themselves shaped by a third: What tools exist with which the class can fight against capital? This is the vital question of organization.  The tools that the working class traditionally used in its battles— unions, socialist/communist party forms — have been spectacularly weak since the 1980s.  In the US, their place has been taken by business unions, liberal NGOs masquerading as the radical left and by the Democratic Party.  This legacy of progressive neoliberalism is not going to disappear overnight, and so the election, or voting for progressive Democrats, is definitely going to be seen, at least in the near short term, as a political alternative.

    EB: Partly out of conviction, and mostly out of electoral opportunism, the Democratic minority in the legislatures of West Virginia, Oklahoma, and Arizona consistently supported the strikers’ basic demands. One of the most common chants throughout the strikes was, ‘We’ll remember in November.’

    On the one hand, the strikers’ political intuition is correct. Protests aren’t enough. To systematically transform social priorities requires political power. Given this fact, and the role played by local Democrats during the strike, it’s understandable that most teachers and staff will enthusiastically vote for Democrats in November.

    The problem, of course, is that the Democratic Party is a party of Capital – not a party of, or for, the working class. Not only have past attempts to ‘take back’ the Democratic Party failed, but such efforts often played a critical role in demobilizing and defanging unions and social movements in the 1930s and 1960s. Sentiment to pivot to the November elections also played an important role in undercutting the potential for a more prolonged strike in Kentucky, Oklahoma and Arizona.

    Of course, we shouldn’t minimize the importance of electoral politics in an advanced capitalist democracy like the US. The Bernie Sanders campaign in many ways laid the foundation for these strikes by radicalizing and cohering a new generation of socialists. And the whole political dynamic in the US would be different if we had a real workers’ party, something like the Labour Party led by Corbyn in the UK. But there’s a danger that this historic labour upsurge will get channeled into traditional Democratic Party politics; the turn to electing Democrats this November could really undercut the momentum generated by these strikes.

    West Virginia, Oklahoma, and Arizona have demonstrated that mass struggle can win major gains no matter who is in power. Even if most workers vote for Democrats in November, the labour movement will be in a better position to defend the interests of working people if it mobilizes independently and resists absorption into the Democratic Party. Maintaining the political independence of the unions and the broader movement is a burning question – and the question of building a mass workers’ party remains a necessary strategic horizon.

    KDG: This backdrop has played a mixed role, to some extent crystallized in the politics and role of the DSA. For the ‘movement’ backdrop, it’s clear to me that Occupy, the Dakota Pipeline Access Protests (NoDAPL), BLM, the Immigrant Rights Movement, the Women’s March and the International Women’s Strike have had significant and in some cases transformative effects on the consciousness of newly radicalizing layers. I think the Day Without An Immigrant (February 16, 2017) and Occupy, and later, IWS, certainly were among the things that helped to popularize and revitalize a broader understanding of the potential power of strike action (where IWS strikes that shut down whole workplaces happened in 2017, they happened in ‘red state’ schools districts ) ; BLM has invigorated a debate about the class nature of the police and the role of racism in working class organizing that at times has emerged as clearly class conscious rejection of neoliberal ‘leadership’ of the black movement and a move toward what seems to me to be a transitional, and during the peak of the movement, organic demand to not only reform but abolish the police.  IWS has tried to play a similar role in the feminist movement, raising and consolidating ‘from below’ push back against boss-driven/white/Zionist/trans-and-sexworker-exclusive feminism originally proposed by Democratic Party organizers.

    That much of  this has become common sense for a newly radicalized layer of socialists and a subject of hot debate in the DSA is promising, almost especially because the source of new membership has been so heavily drawn from white, ‘professional’ layers of proletarianizing people in their 20’s and 30’s. It certainly has created new space for leadership of previously sidelined categories of people as well as strains of socialist and Marxist thought.

    I think the role the DSA has played as a catchment for this group of people moving left has been mixed, but also quite hopeful.  DSA members old and new, and newly politicized teachers inspired by Bernie have played a key role in consolidating strike organizing in West Virginia and elsewhere, and provided some organizational scaffolding that could potentially build the strike in more states, deepen its demands and consolidate the lessons of victory and of defeat. No other socialist organization, or organization generally, in the USA today is in a position to play this role; consolidating networks of teacher activists, propagation techniques for strike action and organization developing and spreading a strategy for making demands and escalation of struggle to win them through meetings and caravans across state lines, development and dissemination of analysis building a winning strike strategy as well as one for union reform. The level of debate and its wide ranging character seems to be, to me, improving over time and too often hit important notes; about the nature and use of the Democratic Party, the degree of emphasis on elections versus building working class institutions, the class nature of the police, and the relationship between ‘identity’ categories (like gender, race and disability) and working class oriented politics have all been exciting entry points for discussion fueled by the sense, for the first time in a long time, that the conclusions of these debates might matter, and might have a chance of being put into practice by a critical mass of people willing to do serious organizing work.

     

    But the fact that Bernie made so many new socialists in the context of an Democratic Party electoral campaign and that most of them landed in an organization once almost wholly committed to the realignment of the Democratic Party, and which has historically housed the left-wing of the labour bureaucracy is a double edged sword. It means that the emergence of a truly rank-and-file led strike wave initially focused on winning demands through direct strike action produces some immediate conflicts of interest as well as a tendency to push the struggle toward support for left Democratic candidates as primary solution for achieving reform and toward emphasis on union recruitment (even towards the ends of union democracy and reform) as the immediate goal of socialist organizers relating to the strike.

    I’m certainly in favour of both union recruitment and reform, but my ideal socialist intervention would primarily focus on building the strike, and transmitting the lesson that direct action wins even against overtly hostile political majorities within and beyond the strike. In fact, I think that’s the best way to build unions and union reform. I think the goal should be to develop the emerging network of strike leaders – some of which is certainly underway in long standing left-labour institutions like Labor Notes – towards winning greater demands and expanding the strikes already political nature both in terms of the demands themselves and the analysis emerging within leadership networks. Ideally, in part, doing this by building relationships with the working class sections of aforementioned movements, even as those movements themselves have been weakened by elements (within and outside the DSA). These are elements oriented toward Democratic Party elections and legalistic defence and revitalization of feminist, queer and anti -racist non-profit layers of lobbyists and service providers.

    In some ways this vision is more immediately achievable in so-called red states where the internal left and Democratic Party debates are less central as immediate questions of elections and individual Democratic politicians, but I’d like to see and I think we are seeing the strike begin to spread to ‘blue’ cities.

    LW: I think a key factor is that Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders, although campaigning on diametrically opposed premises about capitalism, refocused attention on job creation and federal policies that could alleviate economic inequality. They implicitly rejected education as the key vehicle for economic progress, the ‘one true path out of poverty,’ as Arne Duncan phrased the neoliberal project in education. The bipartisan consensus that education is the best or only lever to improve the nation’s economic prospects and workers’ well-being has been shattered. Moreover, the GOP’s and Trump’s explicit encouragement of racial, religious, and sexual bigotry, and the mass popular opposition to the new administration that has emerged, have radicalized a new generation, including many teachers. For the first time since teachers unions won collective bargaining in the 1960s, we are seeing a generation of activist teachers who want to engage in union activity.  Many are socialists, in the DSA.

    One contradiction post-election is that teachers unions feel pressures from social justice movements, especially Black Lives Movement, that emerged before Trump’s victory, to confront the Trump administration, not negotiate with it. The political tightrope NEA and AFT must now walk was illustrated shortly after Betsy DeVos was approved as Trump’s Secretary of Education. Parent and community activists blocked DeVos from entering a Washington DC school; AFT President Weingarten tweeted a reprimand to the protestors for blocking the school. She later invited DeVos to visit schools and engage in dialogue; the NEA President issued statements the organization had not decided how to engage with DeVos. Weingarten also met with Steve Bannon before he was ousted, arguing she wanted to ‘make the case’ for public education. However, both actions show the union leadership’s willingness to desert allies when it’s convenient.

    The on-going challenge for union reformers is negotiating the tensions between defending members on economic concerns while showing parents and students how unions can use organizational strength and political power to defend good schools for their children. One element in the emerging reform caucuses in unions, inspired by the victory of CORE in the Chicago Teachers Union, is the effort to develop new kinds of alliances with parents and community, taking traditional coalition work to a different territory, one that can make unions uncomfortable because they must share power in ways that are often unfamiliar and difficult to manage with legal strictures of collective bargaining.  However these alliances, in turn, generate new tactics and strategies.  We saw the need for a broad-based political movement in the Red states, to ‘up the ante’ politically. Though the teachers were militant and united, even when they had organized ‘wall to wall’ with other school workers as occurred in West Virginia, despite their having deep parent support, they could not achieve the goals for which they walked out.

    These strikes are the first round in a struggle to make space for Left ideas and build a new labour movement in the South. That’s why it’s vital for the movement to demand that school funding come from increased taxes on corporations and that historic inequalities in education due to race and racism be addressed. The strikes and the movements may be able to generate the critical mass other struggles, like the fight for ‘single payer’ healthcare and union organizing efforts need.The movements have also been characterized by the hope that once they disband, they can win at the ballot what they couldn’t in struggle. This optimism wasn’t supported by debate about whom to support and why. It’s a phenomenon that shows the inexperience and naivete of the movement. It may be they have to learn through error that electoral politics is a dead end without a mobilized membership and a broad political movement.  But remember that many teachers in these walkouts are Republicans. Or rather, were before they started this radicalizing journey. Comments on the Facebook pages were testimony to the power of struggle in altering consciousness.

    JW: The geography of the strike wave is interesting beyond the fact that many of the states are controlled by Republicans. For one thing, it is notable that many strikes are unfolding in desperately impoverished states, like West Virginia, Kentucky, and Oklahoma. While the austerity of neoliberalism has been unleashed everywhere in the country, the bite has been particularly hard in states such as these. Cuts to education have been a crucial component of neoliberal restructuring, which perhaps is one part of the explanation for why it is this sector in particular in which there has finally been a labour explosion. Could you speak to the deterioration of the education sector generally in the United States in the past few decades in the context of neoliberalism? Could you explain the role it has played in fomenting these strikes in general and particularly in the poorest states? 

    TB: One of the common things teachers always say, and I have heard several strikers say is ‘I am not doing this for the money.’ We should take this statement seriously, because it is not a sentimental statement but a political one.  Primarily it is a tribute to the fact that people choose to be teachers because they are actually happy teaching young people and being around them.  Neoliberal school reforms, such as high stakes testing, data driven instructional models, have attacked precisely the joy and dignity a good teacher associates with her classroom. This in addition to the attacks on her wages, health care, and benefits.  In most states it is nigh impossible to raise a family on a teacher’s salary and teachers, just like preschool workers, often hold down multiple jobs to sustain themselves and their family. Studies show that public school teachers earn 17 percent less than other workers in comparable jobs.  The strikes are a call to restore dignity and value to teaching as work and in that they are about the defence of the future of public education as a whole. One of the most popular chants of the West Virginia strike was ‘we are worthy’, a slogan that beautifully unites the struggle for wages with the struggle for workplace dignity and power.

    KDG: I’m from Texas originally, which in many ways has been a particular laboratory for the ‘deterioration’ of the education sector, which, I think, should not be only understood as a simple matter of underfunding. There are two levels here of underlying conditions for the strike; first a broad crisis of social reproduction which is particularly acute in ‘red’ states, particularly those with large urban populations, and, second, a specific assault on education. Both have been intensely bipartisan affairs, particularly but not exclusively in ‘red’ states.

    I have argued, along with others developing an analysis of Social Reproduction Theory, that work centered on social reproduction, like teaching, provides workers with an immediate window and experience of a broader crisis of social reproduction, because they are often both immediately responsible for organizing the paid and unpaid work of reproducing their own (often extended) families in the context of a broad decline in working class security and living standards, and because the nature of their work exposes them on a daily basis to those in even more dire straits, often making them personally responsible for making up for the effects of austerity. In education that means children with less support at home, due to overworked and/underemployed parents, and to those affected by hunger, homelessness and a nation-wide drug epidemic.

    I think we’ve often been less developed and less clear on the specific role of restructuring broadly in the way this social reproduction crisis has played out for teachers. It’s not only cuts to education that produce needy students, large class sizes, and lack of access to resources. It’s also that educators have been increasingly tasked with the work that might previously have been done in other public sector institutions that have also been hit with austerity and restructuring; increasingly schools and teachers have been made responsible for the health of their students and that has played a role in the intensification of their work, with increasing and specific legal and professional obligations toward students with disabilities and individual health needs. They more systematically encounter immediate health (including mental health) crises  that might have been previously addressed first in medical settings. The same can be said for social work, supplementary educational programs, and even within school for arts and physical education programs.

    This change in the work process has not only been driven by cuts, but also restructuring in the guise of educational reform and ‘innovation,’ the assault on public education is clearly indicated in defunding-focused, overtly racist, Republican-led measures like school district gerrymandering and ‘voucher’ programs, but also in charterization[13] led mostly by Democrats and piloted in urban districts across the country.  Harkening back to the Oceanhill/Brownsville debacle which pitted disproportionately white unionized Brooklyn teachers against politicized black parents advocating to community control, these ‘reform’ efforts are often highly funded and lucrative for NGO and for-profit networks of schools. Much of the money is poured into Potemkin-like exemplary models of ‘new’ and small schools, couched in anti-racist progressive educational rhetoric, and buttressed by seemingly objective measures which largely consist of standardized testing.  These schools rely on their economic model for deskilling and union busting of teachers, on consolidating formerly distinct areas of work, and increasingly on support staff who are wildly underpaid and whose job categories require less comprehensive educational preparation.  The ‘model’ versions of these school almost universally make the model work by quietly expelling students with lower scores and who require more help, foisting them on the very schools – ‘old’, unionized, large – public schools they are being compared with and propose to replace.  Ironically, in this instantiation, less qualified, younger and whiter teachers are proposed as replacements for unionized older teachers more likely to be women of colour, as black and Latina women in particular have made headway in unionized public sector work.

    On the one hand this intensification of work and deskilling, at the centre of a crisis of social reproduction, has created the dire conditions and the consciousness that has propelled people to strike. It has also been the basis for increased solidarity between teachers and support staff, which, when compared to the 90s’ iteration of teachers’ strikes, has been one of the most crucial aspects of these latest strikes. Teachers depend in an unprecedented way on support staff, while austerity-has only increased the specific strategic power of cooks and bus drivers, who have a concentrated power to shut down schools for safety reasons and put pressure on districts; when drivers and cooks face overwork, overtime, and staff cuts, their ability to shut down an entire school with small numbers of ‘sick’ or striking workers increases.

    On the other hand it’s important to recognize that this background phenomena is not geographically centred on poor or red states, but particularly on poor and urban school districts. If anything, this will be the reason strikes are able to spread beyond border-states and the west and to blue coastal states and the Deep South and Midwest via big cities. But to do so, the strikes will have to directly confront Democratic Party machine politics in ‘blue’ urban islands in red states that are more solidly in the South along with Democrat-dominated states like New York, California, and Illinois.

    It will also mean an increasingly practical debate about the degree to which teachers directly confront the role of racism in attacks on public education and its broader role in the crises of social reproduction, some of which came to the fore in Chicago’s teacher struggle several years ago.

    LW: It’s essential to understand neoliberalism’s project in education has been global, starting in Chile under Pinochet, endorsed by the World Bank, then spreading to Latin America, Asia, and Africa, enforced by structural adjustment programs of the International Monetary Fund.  The World Bank has been explicit that teachers unions have to be weakened or destroyed because they are the greatest threat to the goals of the capitalist elite: privatizing the education sector; eliminating democratic oversight of schools; making teaching a revolving door of low-paid, minimally educated people who will teach to tests over which users of public education have no voice.  These goals are cast as improving services for poor people so teachers unions and teachers are attacked as being enemies of prosperity.  It’s rather amazing that the teachers unions have for so long not exposed or attacked the ideological grounding of the reforms.

    The footprint is essentially the same everywhere, with the worst ‘reforms’ imposed on those least able to resist.

    The most intense, newest forms of exploitation generally occur where there is opportunity, regardless of geography. For example, Hurricane Katrina allowed the federal government and the local ruling class to raze New Orleans’ public school system, replacing it with networks of charter schools owned by private operators. It’s mostly experienced Black teaching force was fired, replaced in good part by Teach for America recruits – young, white, monolingual females with no previous teaching experience.  In the takeovers by state legislatures of city school systems, said to be failing, city residents lose their right to elect school boards and are subjected to an essentially colonial relationship.   In Detroit, a city that was taken over by the Michigan legislature, teachers organized their own ‘sick out’ in 2016 using Facebook, because of abominable conditions in schools that posed health risks for teachers and students, like rat bites, and mould on the floors and walls.  Schools in Baltimore lacked heat in the winter. Other than Finland and North Korea, it’s hard to think of a country in which teachers have not organized about terrible working conditions in schools, threats to public employee pensions, and salaries that are so low teachers must hold two or three jobs.  In Africa, teachers often strike for back wages that have been promised and not paid, for months.  Liberia privatized its entire education system until international outcry forced the government to pull back.  Conditions we once thought were limited to the global South are now endemic in the US, and not just in large urban districts.

    Having pointed out those similarities, I should note what is unique in the Red states is the explosiveness of the struggles, how quickly the movement grew and spread.  One reason is the lack of collective bargaining, which acts as a brake and legal straight jacket but also provides some economic gains.  But another factor is the 2016 election and the broad popular resistance to Trump and his policies.

    JW: What were the immediate trigger causes of the strikes you’re most familiar with? What do these specific grievances reveal about our present moment? How were these specific grievances linked to wider issues and demands over the course of distinct disputes?

    TB: Wages, pensions and healthcare have been the immediate triggers for the strikes.  But in reality there are two aspects to these strikes.  First, as I said above, they are a response to decades of neoliberal attack on wages and benefits on the one hand, and the dignity of the profession on the other; second, while the neoliberal period has seen virulent attacks on public education the period has also been marked by a countervailing tendency— an unprecedented growth in the sectors of social reproduction.  Kim Moody has recently assessed that service jobs grew by 14.2 million between 1990 and 2010 and more than half of these jobs have been in the sphere of social reproduction such as social care, health and food services.  This has given workers in these sectors – teachers and nurses – unique social power that was bound to run up against their complete lack of political power.  The strikes should be seen within this framework because I think we should expect more of them in this sphere.

    EB: Since conditions in West Virginia are relatively well known, I’ll focus my comments on Oklahoma and Arizona. In both states, the fundamental factors driving educators into action were low pay and brutal cuts to public school funding.

    Years of austerity devastated Oklahoma’s education system. Since 2008, per-pupil instructional funding has been cut by 28 percent — by far the worst reduction in the whole country. As a result, a fifth of Oklahoma’s school districts were forced to reduce the school week to four days.

    Textbooks are scarce and scandalously out of date. Innumerable arts, languages, and sports courses or programs have been eliminated. Class sizes are enormous. A legislative deal to lower class sizes — won by a four-day strike in April 1990 — was subsequently ditched because of a funding shortage. Many of Oklahoma’s 695,000 students are obliged to sit on the floor in class.

    The gutting of public education was accompanied by a push for vouchers and, especially, the spread of charter schools. There are now twenty-eight charter school districts and fifty-eight charter schools across Oklahoma.

    Pay, of course, was also a central grievance.   Public school teacher pay was the forty-eighth worst in the nation. Like in West Virginia, many teachers were unwilling or unable to work in these conditions. Roughly two thousand teaching positions are currently filled by emergency-certified staff with no teaching degrees and little training.  Those teachers and staff who stay in state are often forced to work multiple jobs.

    The roots of this crisis are not hard to find. Taxes have not been raised by the Oklahoma legislature since 1990. Due to a right-wing 1992 anti-tax initiative, a supermajority of 75 percent of legislators is now needed to impose new taxes. Yet the need for a supermajority was not a major political issue until very recently, since there was a strong bipartisan consensus in favor of cutting taxes. Some of the first major tax breaks for the rich and corporations began in 2004 under Democratic governor Brad Henry and a Democratic-led Senate. One recent study estimates that $1 billion in state revenue has been lost yearly due to the giveaways pushed through since the early 2000s.

    Republicans swept into the state government in 2010 and promptly accelerated this one-sided class war. Governor Mary Fallin and the Republican legislature slashed income taxes for the rich. They have also passed huge breaks for the oil and gas companies — not a minor issue in a state that is the third-largest producer of natural gas and fifth-largest producer of crude oil in the country. Even the fiscal fallout of the 2014 oil bust did not lead the administration to reverse course.

    The mundane brutality of this free-market fundamentalism set the stage for the strike and turned Fallin into one of the country’s most unpopular governors, with an approval rating hovering around 28 percent.

    In Arizona, the public education system reached a breaking point after years of austerity. Students and educators across the state are faced with the same litany of problems as their colleagues in Oklahoma: excessive class sizes, broken desks, crumbling ceilings, chair shortages, rodent infestations, school buses without air conditioning, and outdated school material.

    Arizona salaries are also infamously low. Pay for the state’s elementary school teachers ranked fiftieth in the US and high school teachers came in at forty-ninth. When adjusted for inflation, teachers have received a 10 percent pay cut since 2010.

    Unsurprisingly, there is a drastic teacher shortage. Roughly 2,000 positions remain vacant and another 3,400 have been filled by individuals who do not have standard teaching credentials. Almost 1,000 teachers have quit since August 2017 alone.

    Years of drastic funding cuts also took a toll on Arizona’s schools. The state’s annual investment in public education was $1.1 billion lower than it was before the onset of the Great Recession, which wiped out the housing boom upon which Arizona’s tax base had relied. Per-pupil funding plummeted since 2007-08: Arizona currently ranks forty-eighth in the nation.

    Though Arizona’s funding crisis arose in the wake of the Great Recession, its roots lie much deeper. Two decades of tax breaks for the rich and corporations have been no less damaging.

    Since 1990, the Arizona legislature has cut taxes every year but one. According to a recent study, the tax giveaways passed in this period amounted to roughly $4 billion in lost revenue in 2015. And while Arizona’s Republicans have been the main drivers of these policies, the Democratic Party has also been complicit. Democratic governor Janet Napolitano, for instance, partnered with the GOP-dominated legislature in 2006 to push through $500 million in tax breaks.

    These cuts went hand in hand with one of the most concerted privatizing offensives in the country. About 17 percent of Arizonan students currently attend a charter school — more than three times the national average.

    KDG: I’ve emphasized elsewhere the role of a particular preventative health program – Go 365 – on triggering the strike in West Virginia. The voluntary program asked teachers to upload sensitive health data – including body measurements and sexual activity – to a third party provider. Teachers made it into a joke, but it was clearly humiliating and I was honestly inspired by their response, both rejecting the invasion of privacy and bodily autonomy and the widespread sense, derived from the progression of innovations in work, that ‘voluntary’ now could only mean ‘required’ in the future.

    Broadly, the defunding of teacher health care was crucial in most of the states that have gone on strike, followed by teacher pay as the most central concern. Again, Democrats led the way with their active development of Health Maintenance Organisations (HMOs) and defunding of public workers health funds over the last three decades; in Colourado and Oklahoma deep austerity enforced by Republicans led to the drastic measure of reducing teachers paid work days, as states formally recognized the degree to which teachers continued ability to work as teachers is completely dependent on having multiple part time jobs and threatened by having  little time to pursue these supplementary wages.  In what we’ve seen so far, wages and school funding are the easiest to win, and health care funding the hardest (though any sort of win has so far been predicated on the rank and files willingness to push past the union leaderships’ inclination to settle quickly and walk away from strikes before the ink is dry; where this hasn’t happened or happened yet, there are no results to show). This is precisely because teachers linked their wages to a broad sense of solidarity with other public sector workers and with their students. From the beginning teachers emphasized this solidarity across categories of work, beyond education and with their communities, both rhetorically and with social reproduction strike tactics, including taking over the daily obligations of schools to provide lunch for children who depend on it.

    Broadly this tells us that the crises of social reproduction that set the stage for strikes is in many way fundamentally a struggle for bodily autonomy, in a collective sense. I think it’s hard to overestimate the importance – often triggering – of this basic dignity in any workers struggle, but teachers’ strikes make this extremely apparent.

    LW: The strikes have focused on economic issues, take-home pay and school funding.  I’m not persuaded these issues should be identified as ‘triggers.’  Strikes are never just about money.  They’re about the desire for dignity and respect for one’s work, feeling valued. Wages, money is how we show value in capitalism, so it’s the natural demand for workers to take up first.  But dissatisfaction about wages doesn’t by itself produce strikes or militancy. What I saw on the Facebook pages was an astounding development of political consciousness.  Someone would post ‘Where is the money going to come from to pay for the salary increase?’ and, bam, we were off in exchanges about who should pay for public services and why, the control of the Koch brothers and the Right of the state legislature. Note that many of the striking teachers self-identify as Republicans and conservatives. The dynamic of the struggle was to radicalize them. Each time the right-wing governor issued a statement belittling and ridiculing the teachers, you’d see an explosion of rage, postings saying ‘I voted for him and now don’t see how I made that mistake. It’s not one I’ll make again.’ Still, I also saw ‘Trump wouldn’t have done that’ on the West Virginia page. So consciousness was very mixed.

    The strikes with more politically conscious leadership, Arizona and West Virginia, had more sophisticated discussions about political options.  These leaders understood that the strikes had to include all school employees and that the movement needed to use the unions – rather than allowing the unions to use them.

    JW: In much of the media’s reporting on the teacher strikes they are made to seem as if they emerged out of nothing. Eruptions such as this are rarely as spontaneous as they appear on the surface. To what extent has there been a militant layer of organizers in these different struggles? Who are they? What role have they played? What tactics and methods of organizing have they found to be most effective, and what obstacles have they come up against?

    TB: There is no such thing as a spontaneous strike.  In each state there was a core of people who took a lead in organizing.  The fact that many of the strikes began in right-to-work states meant two contradictory things: that workers in these states lacked access to the history and strength of the union movement; but because this was so they had to create, from below, their own networks of political mobilization and organizing.  In some states, such as West Virginia, this was a self-conscious process with a handful of socialists from the DSA doing the hard work of building the campaign months before the strike.  But we should not underestimate the power and potential inherent in self organizing even without a conscious militant minority.  Movements create leaders.  Even newcomers to movements, through collective action, quickly learn to formulate, what Gramsci has called ‘good sense’ against the prevailing ‘common sense’.

    EB: Many people seemed to get the impression from West Virginia that all you needed for a successful strike was a lot of anger and a Facebook page. But the course of the strikes in Oklahoma and Arizona prove that leadership, organization, and strategy are indispensable.

    It’s unlikely the West Virginia strike would have happened — or succeeded — without the efforts of a small group of radical teachers rooted in their workplaces. Many of West Virginia’s rank-and-file leaders first coalesced during the 2016 Bernie Sanders campaign and subsequently joined the DSA. It was this group based out of Charleston that first initiated the state-wide Facebook group and state-wide organizing efforts in late 2017. Other teacher activists, particularly in the southern part of the state, were part of a multigenerational tradition of class-struggle politics going back to the Mine Wars of the early twentieth century; the first walkouts in February 2018 came from the initiative of these southern teacher leaders.

    Since the role of socialists in reviving the labour movement is often deeply underestimated, it’s important to underscore the fact that key strike leaders in West Virginia were organized socialists. They had a basic understanding of capitalism and the class struggle; they studied the 2012 Chicago teachers’ strike and they consciously sought to implement its key lessons. Though there were not many of them, these young socialists were able to intervene collectively in West Virginia’s movement and they played a crucial leadership role.

    Oklahoma had a similar number of socialists, but none of them had jobs in the schools. Because of this, they weren’t able to transmit class politics or organizing know-how into Oklahoma’s education movement either in the lead-up to the strike or once it began. Without any members working in public education, Oklahoma’s socialists were limited to providing outside support to the strike.

    One can’t help but wonder how Oklahoma’s movement would have developed had there existed a core of radical teachers capable of providing it guidance. In the absence of such a militant minority, Oklahoma’s inexperienced rank-and-file leadership punted on big political questions, over-relied on Facebook, failed to work within (or with) the union, did not see the centrality of workplace organization, and neglected to prepare for the strike through a series of escalating build-up actions.

    The experience in Arizona was similar to West Virginia. Arizona’s key rank-and-file leaders were either open socialists or labour militants trained in class struggle politics, e.g. through direct participation in the 2012 Chicago teachers’ strike. Many first became politically active in the Bernie Sanders campaign. Though Red for Ed is a completely non-partisan movement, the radical political perspectives and accumulated organizing experiences of these leaders informed the Arizona Educators United’s (AEU) successful organizing drive. Anybody interested in how a militant minority of workplace radicals can build workplace power and strike momentum should closely study the organizing blitz led by AEU over the two months preceding the strike.

    AEU began small, by asking educators to wear red on Wednesday, 7 March. The action caught on and has was repeated on every Wednesday since. Soon afterward, AEU leader Rebecca Garelli called on educators and allies to put supportive messages and red markings on their cars, small businesses, and homes. The next mobilization was a 12 March protest of Governor Doug Ducey’s monthly radio interview. This was followed two weeks later by an afternoon rally of a few thousand educators at the state capitol, where the AEU issued its demands.

    In the process of mobilizing for these actions, the Red for Ed movement began systematically building a network of ‘site liaisons’ at each school. The idea came from Garelli’s experience in the Chicago Teachers Union. To gauge its organizational capacity, and to build parent support, AEU organized educational walk-ins before school on 4 April. The following day it issued a joint letter with the union calling on the governor to meet with them to negotiate on their demands — a request Ducey never ended up accepting.

    AEU leaders began openly raising the possibility of a walkout, while simultaneously pushing for more mass actions to build up community support. On Wednesday, 11 April, over 110,000 educators, parents, and students participated in walk-ins across Arizona.

    Encouraged by the massive walk-ins, AEU leaders on 15 April issued a call for a state-wide strike vote. After multiple days of voting through paper ballots at each school site, AEU and union leaders made the results public at a joint press conference on 19 April. Of the more than 57,000 teachers and school staff who participated in the vote, 78 percent supported a walkout. Armed with a clear mandate for action, Red for Ed leaders announced that the walkout would begin on Thursday 26 April. And now that the strike is over, AEU is consciously building off the momentum to continue the movement, in the form of a ballot initiative to tax the rich to fund schools.

    KDG: I think we don’t yet have the full answer to this. It’s clear to me that DSA and WFP people in West Virginia played an important role in creating space for discussion and debate, raising and developing the idea of strike action, partly in multi-thousand person Facebook discussion groups. It also seems to me that Bernie-influenced teachers there did important work face-to-face organizing across counties with road trips and in person meetings with key leaders from different communities. West Virginia also demonstrates particularly the ability of teachers, who likely have a uniquely historical perspective, to mobilize the experiences of coal mine militancy and solidarity toward a practice that was incredibly anti-scab and pro-solidarity.  At the same time, it seemed important that many teachers themselves had personal experience of striking, and generational continuity among families of teachers, and that they had largely learned a lesson from the previous strike, namely that solidarity with support staff was a critical difference between winning real gains and false promises of future compromise. I also heard about a more recent grocery workers strike that had apparently educated more than a few people on how to handle scabs in practice.

    Facebook and left/labour movement organizational connections have played an important role in spreading the lessons of the strike. It’s easy to find discussion and debate online between teachers from different states and in different stages of struggle, and it was exciting to see a pretty local West Virginia consciousness develop quickly into the voice of experience.  I wasn’t able to attend but a Labour Notes workshop that included leaders from Arizona, West Virginia, and Oklahoma really pointed toward the possibility of developing the militant layer of teacher-leaders that are clearly emerging.

    I do think about not only the structural challenges of the strikes in larger states, but also the social ones. It seems to me that if this wave spreads one thing that both history teachers and socialists can contribute is drawing out broad histories of militancy that can inspire and inform teachers struggle; histories of native and black independent communities and self defence, womens and queer struggles, as well as less well-known moments in the history of socialist politics and workplace strike and struggle.  This broader reservoir seems particularly interesting and fruitful in places like Arizona and Oklahoma.

    LW: Visible resistance emerges from molecular changes, in consciousness, in relationships, in knowledge, configured by and acting on material conditions.  So  I think the phrase ‘militant layer of organizers’ is misleading. It flattens a complex reality of social relations in the workplace and outside of it. The term also assumes there is one way to be an ‘organizer.’ In my experience, some people are natural leaders, respected by their peers, on issues unrelated to union concerns.  Other workers may be ‘organizers’ outside of the school and yet not in their workplace.  In education the way these differences play out is that teachers are often activists in social struggles outside of education or in schools on issues unrelated to the union domain, such as curriculum (what’s taught) and instruction (how we teach it). Often the people who are activists in teachers unions are White, male, hetero radicals who are high school teachers, often Social Studies or History teachers, who have a theoretical commitment to unionism. Teachers who are committed to a social justice agenda, often anti-racism, immigrant rights, or LBGT students’ rights often have no interest in the union because it seems irrelevant or even hostile to their political ideals.

    Moreover, the term ignores the alliances that have formed between activist teachers and parents for many years, to stop testing or make instruction and curriculum culturally responsive.

    I’ll give just a few examples of the activism, the networks, and organizing that preceded the walkouts. The Bad Ass Teachers (BATS) should be considered the pioneers of this current strike wave.  Several years ago teachers who were frustrated by the attacks on them formed a Facebook group by this name, committed to fighting against the degradation of teaching and teachers in the media. They did not feel protected or defended by the unions.  Teachers have been working with parents in the opt-out (of testing) movement, in Red states and Blue, without support from teachers unions. In fact, the unions did not oppose testing until legislation was passed to link teacher evaluations and salaries to their students’ test scores, using a pseudo-scientific statistical formula, called Valued Added Measures (VAM).

    One of the leaders of the Kentucky movement is a BAT.  Save our Schools Kentucky, a group of teachers, parents, and education activists allied with the Network for Public Education, the advocacy organization Diane Ravitch formed, provided pivotal leadership.

    Labour is not strong in the Red states, but it’s telling that often other unions stepped in to support striking teachers well before the teachers unions did so. I saw pictures on the Facebook pages in all the states of workers from various union locals showing up at picket lines and reading news of motions of support.  United Food and Commercial Workers Union has contributed to the fund Arizona teachers have created to help school workers who helped them by supporting their strike and so lost wages but will not get wage increases in the new state budget.

    JW: In different states we have seen the teachers draw on and reinvent distinct cultural reservoirs of local labour histories, some quite distant and subterranean vis-à-vis the contemporary culture, others more evidently embedded in the living social fabric of the present, even if somewhat eroded. How important is this element to understanding the development of the movement in particular cases?

    EB: I think the role of labour traditions has been relatively low in these strikes, with West Virginia being only a partial exception. On the whole, this strike wave marks a first step in generating new labour traditions in these states and across the US.

    West Virginia’s strike has often been attributed to the state’s labour traditions. Of course, this legacy of militant trade unionism was significant: many strikers wore red bandannas in homage to the mine wars, many came from coal-miner families, and many repeated that they were trained as children never to cross a picket line. The weight of this history was particularly strong in the southern counties.

    But it’s also true that by 2018 these traditions were dormant or fading away. Unions have been in decline for decades and were widely discredited, enabling the state to turn right-to-work a few years prior. The public sector, unlike coal, has not historically been a hotbed of militancy in West Virginia – though there had been a strike in 1990, for most current teachers this was their first strike ever. And the initiative for the action came from a core of young teachers, motivated more by political conviction than tradition. If anything, the current action helped many people rediscover and reclaim a political legacy that was fading away.

    Even once the strike took off, the level of political-cultural continuity with the traditional labour movement was lower than portrayed in most outside accounts of the strike. The critical role of Facebook was just one manifestation of this relative political-organizational novelty. It’s also significant that protestors at the West Virginian capitol didn’t ever sing labour songs – songs like ‘Country Roads’ or ‘Seven Nation Army’ were the norm, not ‘Solidarity Forever.’ Nor were traditional labour chants a part of the action. Protest signs were more likely to reference Beyoncé than Mother Jones.

    The relative absence of labour traditions was even more marked in the Oklahoma and Arizona strikes. Oklahoma has a deep, but forgotten, history of militancy. It’s a little-known fact that Oklahoma had the strongest Socialist Party in the country a century ago. Yet this experience has been almost completely erased from the state’s textbooks and collective memory.

    At most, this socialist history left some political sediment in the form of a generalized collectivist ethos in Oklahoma. ‘Oklahomans who are traditionally religious, with strong family values, also often have a very strong communitarian mindset,’ observed DSA organizer Xavier Doolittle. ‘That collective sentiment really still does exist here, it’s one of the main reasons why the striking teachers have so much support.’

    Specific labour and radical traditions, however, remained very weak in Oklahoma. The amazing thing about the strike is how massive it was despite the absence of such traditions in the state. Oklahoma’s capitol protests — peaking at 50,000 on Monday, April 9 — were actually significantly larger than in West Virginia. Likewise, popular support for the Oklahoma strike was very high: over 72 percent, according to the most recent poll. So the divergent strike outcomes in West Virginia and Oklahoma can’t be explained primarily by differences in the depth of popular support or the strength of labour traditions.

    Arizona’s strike was perhaps the most remarkable. Of the three states, it had the strongest right-wing and by far the weakest labour or collectivist traditions. Strikers consistently expressed their shock that a strike of this depth could happen in Arizona. By all accounts, the Red for Ed movement marked a definite break with Arizona’s strong traditions of individualism and conservatism.

    The following tweet by Arizona educator Warren Faulkner gives a good sense not only of the defiant mood on the ground, but also the breadth of the popular radicalization:

    ‘I’m a registered Republican and a conservative. I’ve taught high school math for 27 years and the last thing I ever thought I’d do is a walkout, but I will walk out this Thursday. Enough is enough. … I love my job and I love the students I teach. I don’t want to walk out, but I will for my students.’

    Despite the unfavourable political context and the absence of strong labour unions or traditions, Arizona’s teachers and staff were remarkably well-prepared for their strike. In less than two months, under the guidance of AEU leaders, they cohered themselves into a formidably organized force and won important concessions from the state in their walkout. The victory in Arizona, in comparison with Oklahoma (which many teachers felt was a defeat, despite the important pay raise won on the eve of the action), underscores the important role that radical organizers can play at a moment of crisis and mobilization, irrespective of the presence or absence of labour traditions.

    JW: How does a strike wave like this unfold? It began first in West Virginia, how did it expand from there? Which kinds of experiences, tactics and strategies move easily between states with very different labour movement histories, and which kind are more difficult to replicate?

    EB: West Virginia’s example was a critical factor in the emergence and development of the strikes in Oklahoma and Arizona. Usually, the conscious intervention of organized radicals is required to transmit the lessons of the past into today’s struggles. But because West Virginia’s successful strike took place so recently and was so widely publicized, its lessons diffused widely across the country, even in places like Oklahoma where there was no significant militant minority of radical workers.

    Rank-and-file teacher Micky Miller recalled: ‘Oklahoma teachers have felt hopeless and powerless for years. So when I first heard about West Virginia, I didn’t think it would spill over for us. But teachers here started closely watching the strike. They began saying, “Wait a second, they did it there, they were able to get all counties to go out. Why can’t we do that here?” People saw that West Virginian strikers were strong, that they didn’t back down. The legislature gave a little and the union leaders said to go back to work, but the teachers and staff continued to strike anyways, until they won all their demands.’

    In Arizona, it also took the example of West Virginia to ignite labour action locally. Rebecca Garelli explained:

    ‘People were scared to rock the boat — and then West Virginia happened. All of a sudden, the catalyst was there. They’re doing it, why can’t we? So in the first days of March I got in touch over Facebook with one of the West Virginia strike leaders, Jay O’Neal — we discussed how they had organized their walkout and how we could do the same in Arizona.

    As can be gleaned from Garelli’s quote, one of the most novel aspects of this strike wave is that rank-and-file teacher leaders in different states have been in constant communication with each-other ever since West Virginia’s strike. Most of these discussions of strategy and tactics have taken place over Facebook. The recent Labour Notes conference, and the United Caucuses of Rank-and-File Educators (UCORE) network in particular, also played an important role in connecting these militants to each other and facilitating an interchange of experiences.

    KDG: Similar to the large Day Without an Immigrant and 2017 Women’s Strike, the mainstream media played a significant role. Teachers with no connections I can discover to left political formations started Facebook groups on the model reported in the media, which played a similar role and benefitted from being public in the sense that they also attracted experienced strikers. In Oklahoma these groups were able to push forward a strike date and reject slower levels of escalation proposed by teacher union officials. But I think the difference between strike action and protest or lobbying, anti-scab culture, and the strategic importance of support staff strikes has been harder to communicate and actualize. Still the lesson of unsigned, insufficient deals did make the jump across state borders even as the Arizona Education Association (AEA) and the Oklahoma Education Association (OEA) seem to have completely folded in the face of legislative intransigence. We’re starting to both see union officialdom take a more proactive role, polling states still yet to strike, and coordinating mass actions at the capitals. We’re also starting to see teachers’ consolidation of rank-and-file organization outside of unions, in Oklahoma and Arizona, as a response to failures of leadership. It’s not entirely clear to me what effects these developments will have in places like Louisiana or Texas, let alone in ‘blue’ states where unions have more power and more immediate ties to state and local government. Teacher union internationals have the resources to build the strikes and the ability, when they take teachers lead, to win real gains, but it doesn’t seem like that’s the lesson they learned from West Virginia.

    One thing both unions and socialist organizers have so far been unable to achieve is a sense of pushing the understanding of demands and strikes beyond a legislative horizon, one underwritten by balanced budget guarantees; so far, even militant teachers seem to often imagine themselves both responsible for the legislative calendar and for the ‘funding source’ that can reverse austerity.  This is something that, if the struggle is going to develop, will have to be challenged more directly.

    To do so, I think, requires a concerted plan and a team of skilled organizers with this in mind, more than simply imposing a new more political program through new leadership, this will require concerted agitational interviews and strategic relationship building through concrete solidarity that can broaden the frame and a strategy of escalation and coordination with other immediate struggles to win the intermediate and maximum demands of teachers and others in motion. Widespread strike action is a crucial environment for this kind of activity.

    LW: I think the idea of replication is unhelpful and even misleading.  Every context is different. We have to ground our work in the specific material conditions and ideological frame.  Of course one of those material conditions is struggle that has preceded ours and changed consciousness, which is what happened with the victory in West Virginia.

    Though our strategies and conditions differ, our goal is the same, what I’ve referred to as the ‘trifecta’: a commitment to workers’ self-organization and mobilization of members; democratic structure and culture; and integration of social justice commitments that speak to the needs of the broader society into the union’s functioning.

    One question is how to do that when we have collective bargaining, as in the Blue states. Another is how to do it when we don’t, as in the Red states and the Blue states like Wisconsin, where we’ve lost it.  We shouldn’t be re-creating CORE.  We should take what we know works for us from what CORE has done.[14]

    JW: Close to 80 percent of teachers in the United States are women, with the highest concentration in elementary schools. Both the deterioration of the public sector under neoliberalism – that is, the foundational environment for these strikes – and the process of the strikes themselves, have been deeply gendered. Could you comment on the importance of this facet of the latest cycle of labour militancy in the United States?

    TB: I am going to be repeating myself on this issue as I have written so much on this. First, not only are the majority of teachers women, teaching is also seen as ‘women’s work.’ The institutional efforts to erode dignity from the profession is fuelled by this sexist assumption. Second, because teaching is gendered in this manner it is also see as ‘care work.’ Neoliberal education bosses often treat teachers, especially elementary school teachers, as glorified baby sitters thereby attempting to de-professionalize a vital profession.  Third, because women still disproportionately do the actual work of care in homes and communities, health care costs and pensions are unfortunately and uniquely ‘women’s issues’.  While these can be catalogued as ‘causes’ or triggers for the strike it would be wrong to underplay the fact that there has been a real growth in specifically feminist organizing and consciousness in recent years.  Since the recession there has been both an escalation of sexism (think legal restrictions on reproductive rights, a complete misogynist in the White House, repeated defence of rape by politicians) as well as open resistance to it.  The success of #metoo in cleaning out the stables is matched by the fact that for the first time in decades there is an anticapitalist feminism in the making in the form of the International Women’s Strikes with its slogan of ‘feminism for the 99 per cent’.  This general backdrop cannot but play a role in how militancy is shaped amongst teachers and will undoubtedly continue to do so in the future.

    EB: It’s certainly true that the objective social conditions that generated these strikes – and the dynamics of the mobilizations themselves – are deeply gendered.  Low pay for teachers, as many analysts have shown, is rooted to a significant extent in the fact that K-12 teaching in the US is a predominantly female profession. The strategic location of education at the heart of social reproduction meant that these work stoppages impacted workers far beyond the schools. That most educators are women also certainly shaped the course of the strike. It was no easy feat for striking mothers charged with family obligations to find the time or means to participate in – and lead – these strikes. Particularly given these challenges, these actions were remarkable expressions of the agency and leadership of working-class women.

    At the same time, I was struck by how few strikers in these states saw the strikes – or the social context that they arose from – in gendered terms. In West Virginia, Oklahoma, and Arizona, an organic, bottom-up stress on unity to win common demands was so strong that participants tended to avoid talking about (let along stressing) internal differences, either in regards to gender, race, political affiliation, or religion. In the words of Charleston high school teacher and union activist Emily Comer: ‘For a successful mass movement, people don’t have to agree on partisan politics, on religion, or anything else for that matter. But they do have to come together and fight in solidarity around a shared issue.’

    In West Virginia I interviewed a dozen female teacher leaders for an article I planned to write for Jacobin on gender and the strike. I ended up not knowing what do with the piece since the overwhelming majority of these women insisted that issues of gender had not played an important role in emergence or development of the strike. When I asked them about the particular challenges facing female teachers and strikers, they almost always replied by pivoting the discussion and insisting that the salient feature of the movement was that it united all educators, all public employees, or working people generally.

    KDG: It’s nothing new.  Both historical and sociological accounting of workers’ struggle in the twentieth- and twenty-first centuries point to the importance of social reproductive sectors, inhabited mostly by women, and disproportionately by queer people, paid and unpaid, in kicking off new waves of worker militancy. Partly this is simply due to the disproportionate impact of crises of social reproduction on women and gender-oppressed workers, particularly as austerity is itself gendered and combined with direct political assaults on women (like abortion bans, trans bans, FOSTA/SESTA[15], welfare reform, hospital closings, etc). It’s also partly that the gendered nature of organizing daily survival gives women workers social networks on and off the job that can be mobilized as they are politicized for action.

    The issues raised in these struggles are gendered, but it’s important to note, they are also universal; women and other gender oppressed and racialized people have particularly intense experiences of humiliation and loss of control over their personal and bodily autonomy, extreme experiences of managing precarity as it is distributed across the class among high and low wage workers across family and social networks, and face particularly dismissive and chauvinist reactions to their organizing (dumb bunnies in West Virginia, ‘like teenagers’ in Oklahoma) but these issues are also experienced by men, white workers etc.  This kind of alienation is universal; all workers experience it. And the bills—abortion, anti-gang bills, anti-sex work bills, anti-trans ones—impact everyone. Racist anti-gang and FOSTA/SESTA have clear direct implications for organizing on and offline; anti-trans bills (in North Carolina and elsewhere) have nullified local municipalities’ abilities to set minimum wages. Anti-immigrant bills press all workers to have and show papers, and increase employers role as law enforcement. Far from being a diversion or a distraction, the conditions of the vulnerable sectors of the class set the conditions of work and organizing for the whole working class.

    A solidaristic approach to understanding and responding to the universal sense of humiliation, degradation and precarity is precisely the fuel that can spark wider strikes and other direct action. I think it’s notable that where we’ve seen notions and concrete steps toward secondary strikes, those have been among the trades and in logistics.  My home  tradition of socialist thinking about class composition and labour organizing has long recognized the strategic necessity of activating these sectors, and their tendency toward militancy; I think the teachers’ strikes are a good example of the kind of political – in the most small p, democratic sense – context crucial for inspiring and activating these sectors.

    It’s also important to consider, as this struggle develops, assuming it does, how workers’ power and the example of strikes might move toward effective resistance to laws and policies that specifically target women and other so-called particular sections of the working class.  That’s certainly one of the aims of IWS, and we’ve seen that used to great effect in other places, including Poland, Spain, Ireland, and across Latin America.

    JW: The politics of race has been distinct across different teacher strike scenarios in recent years. There are variegated experiences rooted in urban versus rural contexts, and disparate demographics across states. How do the politics of race enter into the latest strikes in specific ways, according to specific, local particularities?

    TB: I went to Kentucky to specifically report on this. In Kentucky, along with the bill that attacked the pension plan for teachers, state legislators had passed an overtly racist ‘gang bill’, giving the police the right to stop and frisk people of colour at will. Unfortunately when teachers and students of colour and their supporters wanted the pension campaign to include a demand to reject the ‘gang bill’ many opposed such a merger of issues.  But, as I pointed out in my essay, race is not an ‘add-on’ to the struggle for wages and benefits. In all these states of teachers’ revolt—Arizona, Oklahoma, and Kentucky—an increase in the concentration of students of colour is associated with a decrease in dollars spent per pupil. The school to prison pipe line is an everyday reality for thousands of teachers and students. With this strike wave we have a second chance to rebuild the labour movement such that race and gender are not considered boutique issues of interest only to feminists and antiracists, but are seen as vital to how they are harnessed by capital to make certain sections of the working class more vulnerable than others. All wage struggles arise on this landscape of differential degradation and it is vital that questions of social oppression be included within the purview of labour organizing and collective bargaining.

    EB: In all of these states, like in the country as a whole, African Americans and Latinos are disproportionately poor and criminalized. Across the board, schools tend to be worse off in non-white communities. People of colour are underrepresented in the teacher workforce and overrepresented in support staff positions. At the same time, open or coded racism and support for regressive policies that disproportionately hurt working-class communities of colour have long been part of the strategy of Republican leaders, as well as a significant number of Democratic politicians.

    In both West Virginia and Oklahoma there was little discussion of race or racism among the majority of strikers. This was partially due to the fact that the overwhelming majority of strikers and students were white. A large number of strikers were also Republicans and had voted for Trump. The consciousness of most white educators on racial justice certainly fell short of where socialists and anti-racist activists would have liked it to be. But the eruption of these strikes also undermines the widespread idea that white workers, particularly in ‘red states,’ are so blinded by their racism and whiteness that they are incapable of fighting for their own interests or allying with workers of colour against the bosses. The blind-spots, or unconscious prejudices, of many white educators did not prevent them from striking together with non-white teachers and staff for their mutually shared interests. Not incidentally, the main rank-and-file leader in Oklahoma was a Latino teacher, Alberto Morejon.

    Racial justice and immigrant rights were more clearly part of the strike dynamic in Arizona. The state has a particularly vicious recent history of anti-immigrant attacks and Latinos are a single-largest group of students in the school system.

    Mass incarceration was one important factor in the state’s funding crisis for schools. Disproportionately locking up Latinos and African Americans, Arizona has one of the highest incarceration rates in the nation. With an annual expenditure of approximately $1 billion — over 10 percent of the state’s total budget — the Department of Corrections was the rare state agency that continued to receive funding increases even after the recession began.

    The privatization offensive in the state has also led to a significant racial re-segregation of the school system. While 44 percent of Arizona students are Latino, they make up only 36 percent of charter-school students. Unsurprisingly, the most vocal proponents of ‘school choice’ in Arizona, such as Debbie Lesko and other American Legislative Exchange Council (ALEC)-funded politicians, are also open advocates of the anti-immigrant border-wall plan, stepped-up ICE deportations, and Arizona’s infamous SB 1070, a 2010 bill that sanctioned racial profiling.

    Arizona’s strike represented an alternative to this right-wing racism and xenophobia. It was consciously multi-racial and multi-lingual: all Red For Ed placards, for instance, were bi-lingual, not a minor detail in a state where the politics of language has long been central to the right-wing agenda. Unlike in other the states that struck, various Arizona union leaders – including the vice president of the AEA, Marisol Garcia – were not white. Speakers at the rallies, including teachers from Arizona’s Native American reservations, often spoke in their native languages and openly criticized anti-immigrant policies. AEA union president Joe Thomas has also openly denounced the school to prison pipeline. The Arizona strike’s model of multi-racial unity for a common working-class goal will hopefully set an example for other states – it could also help generate the political space and momentum in Arizona for a revived immigrant rights movement to stop deportations and win papers for all.

    In all states, rebuilding a militant labour movement will be crucial not only for defending public education and winning broad demands for wealth redistribution, but also in helping beat back attacks on immigrants, African Americans, women, and all other oppressed groups.

    KDG: The politics of race enter in because they  inseparable both from the politics of austerity generally and of education particularly.  Even in states where the population is overwhelmingly white, racist dog whistles are used both to pass regressive social legislation and to bait workers in motion; for example, in West Virginia, the abortion ban was motivated by legislature particularly against patients on ‘medicaid,’ while the legislature threatened to move funds  from medicaid to fund increased wages for public sector workers, though this wasn’t ultimately part of the bill.  Teachers declared this unacceptable, but this attempt to pit higher paid teachers (who of course aren’t all white) against real and imaginary poor and black workers is only likely to intensify, and so must the level and directness of teacher’s refutation of this tactic.

    In the longer view, the attack on public education itself has been highly racialized, with constant invocation of failing schools and lazy tenured teachers perpetually identifying black students, black teachers, and black schools as the source of a problem needing fixing.  Recent student walkouts, and the variegated demands from different sections of the country and sectors of the education system emphasized the conflict between a racist anti-gun violence politics and a clearly anti-racist one. On the one hand, we saw demands for more police in schools and decreased Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA) protections as part of a plan to deal with gun violence in schools, coming out of Parkland, Florida, and Florida Democrats. On the other an articulation of BLM influenced demands for more funding, fewer police in schools and more student support emerging from Philadelphia, Chicago, Brooklyn and even from dissident black students at Parkland.  Clearly, the later set of demands has more in common with the demands of rank and file teachers, who themselves strongly oppose any weakening  of HIPAA, but it’s not clear to what extent that identification has or can be made.

    BLM, and broadly the black movement that has long highlighted the racial inequalities in education and their connection to mass incarceration, seems like a point that will repeatedly emerge as the teacher struggle develops and one that is deeply ingrained in both its long and its recent history, for example with CTU in Chicago, where a demonstration with BLM speakers raised the question of teacher and teacher union support for the demands of BLM and where teachers didn’t clearly rise to the challenge. In New York, explicit pro-BLM demands and anti-police demands were supported by the rank-and-file caucus but rejected by the leadership of the United Federation of Teachers (UFT).  To say nothing of the internal racial disparities and divides within and between teachers’ organizations and school support staff, and the labour movement as a whole.  The class nature of the police, and the racial divide between sections of white workers who tend to be generally supportive of police, and racialized workers who tend to be less so is going to keep emerging directly from the fight itself, probably particularly in education.  Philando Castile, famously executed by police while carrying a legal gun, was himself a school cafeteria worker, apparently much loved and deeply involved in the formal and informal social reproduction of students and staff at his school. He was a member of a Teamsters local in Minneapolis that includes law enforcement, as a result his union local had little to say on the matter.  To win initial significant demands, build solidarity, and to keep winning, unions and other workers organizations  are going to have to take up the basic demands of BLM, not merely as ‘resolutions’ but as an active process of developing members as they get involved in militant worker action. This is not an easy task and building that solidarity in practice requires a concerted vision and effort, but a primarily electoral strategy for winning even bread and butter reforms relies on a majoritarian accommodation of unchallenged right-wing impulses and sensibilities of teachers and workers-as-voters in a way that tends to work against raising demands that seem particular or divisive.   So I think the strike wave represents a unique opportunity for building a class conscious layer of workers, and a strategy for struggle that, while not in contradiction to some electoral action, poses direct action as specific point of emphasis and focus.

    For me, this again highlights the degree to which a particular working class experience – that of black, disabled, and queer workers with police violence and vigilante fascists – has universal implications that require attention and advancement by socialists and militant worker activists. International examples – for me South African ones – are particularly instructive.  Already in the United States, we’ve seen fascists attack the strike of public sector workers in the university system with a moving car as they did anti-fascist demonstrators in Charlottesville.  In South Africa, as we’ve seen time and time again in the history of worker struggle, the wildcat at Marikana was met with a brutal massacre of striking miners at the hands of national police and directed in part by now South African President and former union-organizer-cum-mining-industry-capitalist Cyril Ramaphosa. It’s not simply that the police-in-our-unions question is a matter of racial justice, though it is, but that it’s an existential question for a rank-and-file workers’ movement exercising its power through direct action.

    JW: What is the potential for expanding this new labour militancy into other sectors? If there is potential, where do you think this is most likely to happen?

    EB: Since attacks on educators are part of a more generalized offensive against public services and public employees, there exists the potential for this movement to spread beyond education, particularly in those states where it was generally felt that teachers won major gains by striking. In the short run, the most likely place this militancy could emerge is the rest of the public sector in West Virginia and Arizona. (I’m less optimistic about the short-term prospects in Oklahoma, which was not generally felt from below to be a clear-cut victory, unlike West Virginia and Arizona.)

    Had other public sector employees struck in any of these states this spring, it is possible that the strikes could have gone significantly further in winning concessions from the government. Unfortunately, the level of trade union – and rank-and-file – organization in the non-education public sector remains very low. Public employees were inspired by the actions of teachers, but they remained more fearful of taking any illegal job actions. And unlike in teaching, there are few organized radicals in the rest of the public sector. It will likely take a sustained organizing effort by union organizers and socialists to start laying the basis for public employees in West Virginia, Arizona, and beyond to join in militant job actions.

    KDG: The teacher strikes themselves seem likely to spread as new states come into legislative session, and to major cities. The obvious next sector in line to strike is health care, both because this has been historically true, because the conditions are similar, and because it’s already happening with strike action on the agenda for California in university hospitals. As teacher and other public sector strikes develop, the lesson of broad public sector and working class solidarity is I think the most important one: where teachers and support staff have together won gains for the whole public sector, or where teachers have held out for education funding in general, I think are the examples of victory that should be propagated. Where gains have been isolated, only teacher pay, or not fully consolidated (as in Oklahoma and Arizona), the lesson must be that that isn’t enough. It certainly doesn’t represent the totality or even the main focus for the striking teachers I have spoken with across a range of political party allegiance or general skepticism toward electoral politics.  I anticipate the possibility for another large Teamsters strike at UPS, again, still fuelled by the same problems of part-time work and extreme exploitation that loomed in the 1990s, only worse. It will be interesting to see if this moment can develop, and if unions themselves can develop, beyond the partial and sectorally isolated strikes of that period, to connecting the crisis of social reproduction with the issue of part-time work and to the reactionary agenda being broadly pushed at state and national levels. It will be interesting to see if drivers in privatized school bus companies can harness the strategic power drivers put on the table in West Virginia; we’ve seen a few localized attempts in this direction. Public sector strikers have a unique role in setting the agenda in terms of winning through strike action; they’ve demonstrated the possibility of negotiating directly with the employer –in their case, the state – through strikes and winning demands.  Emphasis on that lesson, and on its political implications, can pave the way for public sector strikes that go beyond narrow bread-and-butter affairs to ones which are broadly engaged in advancing and defending gains for the working class as a whole.

    References

    Brooks, Chris, ‘What Should Unions Do After The Strike Wave Recedes?’, New Labor Forum, 2018 <http://newlaborforum.cuny.edu/2018/04/27/unions-strike-wave-recedes/&gt; [accessed 24 June 2018]

    David Friedman, Ellen, ‘What’s Behind the Teachers’ Strikes’, Dollars & Sense<http://www.dollarsandsense.org/archives/2018/0518edfriedman.html&gt; [accessed 24 June 2018]

    ‘Major U.S. Labor Strikes Second Lowest on Record in 2017’, Bloomberg.com, 9 February 2018 <https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2018-02-09/major-u-s-labor-stri…; [accessed 24 June 2018]

    Moody, Kim, On New Terrain: How Capital Is Reshaping the Battleground of Class War (Haymarket Books, 2017)

    ‘Work Stoppages’, United States Department of Labor, Bureau of Labor Statistics, 2018 <https://www.bls.gov/wsp/&gt; [accessed 24 June 2018]

    Contributor Bios:

    Tithi Bhattacharya is a professor of South Asian History and the Director of Global Studies at Purdue University.  She has recently edited Social Reproduction Theory: Remapping Class, Recentering Oppression (Pluto Press, 2017) and is a national organizer for the International Women’s Strike US.

    Eric Blanc is a doctoral candidate in the Department of Sociology at New York University. He is the author of Anti-Colonial Marxism: Oppression and Revolution in the Tsarist Borderlands, 1881-1917 (Brill, forthcoming).

    Kate Doyle Griffiths is a doctoral candidate in Anthropology at the CUNY Graduate Center.  Her research focuses on social reproduction in South Africa, and more recently in the USA, with a focus on gender, sexuality, the family, waged and unwaged work, health and health care, strikes, politics and the elaboration of a Marxist theory of Social Reproduction.  She is a member of the Professional Staff Congress (PSC), and of Fordham Faculty United, as well as an organizer with the International Women’s Strike (IWS) and the Red Bloom Collective. She is a regular contributor to the Historical Materialism series of conferences in the USA, UK and Canada and her political writing has appeared in Viewpoint MagazineThe Nation, on the Versoblog series, and in Truthout as well as in scholarly venues in her field.

    Lois Weiner writes for a wide range of popular publications and scholarly journals about teachers’ work, urban education, and labour, focusing especially on teacher unionism.  Her writing is informed by her two careers in education, the first as a career teacher and union activist and subsequently as a teacher educator and researcher.  Her book, The Future of Our Schools: Teachers Unions and Social Justice (Haymarket, 2012), widely read by activists in the Anglophone world, explains the nature of neoliberalism’s global project to destroy public education and the role of transformed teachers’ unions in reversing the attacks.  A life-long socialist, she is on the editorial board of New Politics and informally advises education activists in a wide range of settings.

    This forum was first published in Historical Materialism.


    [1]  David Friedman 2018.

    [2]  Bloomberg 2018.

    [3]  United States Department of Labor, Bureau of Labor Statistics 2018.

    [4]  Moody 2017, pp. 97–98.

    [5]  David Friedman.

    [6]  Moody, pp. 78, 82.

    [7]  Moody, p. 30.

    [8]  David Friedman.

    [9]  David Friedman.

    [10]  Brooks 2018.

    [11] I am grateful to Charles Post for pointing this out.

    [12] Editor’s note: Right-to-work laws allow individuals who work in a union shop to refuse to join the union.

    [13] Editor’s note: Charter Schools are publicly funded independent schools established outside the public school system, which are often run by businesses, non-profit organizations, or universities that have established charters and won approval from local authorities. Their rapid growth in the United States parallels and contributes to the undermining of traditional public schools.

    [14] Because I have already addressed the answers posed below in what I have said thus far I’ll end my contribution here.

    [15] Editor’s note: Stop Enabling Sex-Trafficking Act (SESTA) and Fight Online Sex Trafficking Act (FOSTA) impinge upon the rights of sex workers.

     

     

  • The Third Camp in Theory and Practice: An Interview with Joanne Landy and Thomas Harrison

    The Third Camp in Theory and Practice: An Interview with Joanne Landy and Thomas Harrison

    [Reprinted by permission from Left History 21.2]

    Introduction

    Joanne Landy (1941–2017) and Thomas Harrison (1948–) became socialists as teenagers and have remained involved in the democratic left ever since. They were active in the student protest movement at the University of California at Berkeley in the 1960s, where they met and became close friends and collaborators. During the 1970s, they became increasingly interested in the issue of labor rights in Central and Eastern Europe, and they worked to link democratic and social justice struggles in the Eastern Bloc with social movements in the United States, the West, and the Third World. Until Joanne Landy’s death in October 2017, they were co-directors of the Campaign for Peace and Democracy (CPD), which was founded in 1982. Initially, the organization was called the Campaign for Peace and Democracy/East and West, but with the end of the Cold War the title was shortened.

    The Campaign promoted a policy of “détente from below” and worked to advance “a new, progressive, and non-militaristic U.S. foreign policy—one that encourages democracy and social justice by promoting solidarity with activists and progressive movements throughout the world.”[1] During the Cold War, the Campaign defended independent human rights, labor, and peace activists in Soviet Bloc countries and enlisted support for them among labor, human rights and anti-war activists in the West. CPD also mounted campaigns in opposition to U.S.-supported dictatorships in Latin America like Chile and Nicaragua and organized public support for these campaigns by Eastern Bloc dissidents. In the post-Cold War period, CPD opposed U.S.-led wars in the Middle East and Israel’s denial of Palestinian rights, and supported movements for democracy and social justice in Greece, Mexico, and the Middle East, including Iran, Tunisia, Egypt, Bahrain, and Syria, while opposing Russian intervention in Syria, Ukraine, and Georgia.[2]

    As young radicals, Landy and Harrison gravitated to the “third camp” wing of the organized left. Perhaps the most prominent figure in the third camp tendency was Max Shachtman, a writer and organizer who led a major split out of the Socialist Workers Party in 1940, and helped launch a succession of socialist groups and periodicals in the mid-century period. However, by the end of the 1950s Shachtman had abandoned third camp principles, becoming a defender of United States foreign policy.[3] Another key figure on the third camp left was Hal Draper, who later won acclaim for his five-volume series on the revolutionary ideas of Karl Marx. While Shachtman was based in New York City, Draper was a longtime Bay Area resident and, along with Joanne Landy, Joel Geier, Mike Parker, and other “left Shachtmanites,” played a leading part in Berkeley’s Free Speech movement.[4]

    The term “third camp” implies a rejection of both the Western alliance (the first camp) and Soviet-style societies (the second camp), in favor of democratic movements in opposition to western capitalism, as well as various forms of authoritarian statism. Since its inception, the CPD developed and advanced a third camp perspective on a range of global issues, from dissident movements in Eastern Europe and the breakup of Yugoslavia, to the rise of the Arab Spring in 2010–2011, and contemporary conflicts in the Near and Middle East. Arguably, the CPD helped to reorient sections of the peace movement and the left more generally away from a focus on great power actors to a strategy of building movements from below across national and regional borders.

    Joanne Landy joined the Young People’s Socialist League (YPSL), the youth group of the Socialist Party, in 1958. She became active in the YPSL left wing, and along with Draper, Geier, and others, helped launch Berkeley’s Independent Socialist Club (ISC) in 1964. During this period, Landy was also heavily involved in the Free Speech Movement. Thomas Harrison moved to Berkeley in 1966, and joined the ISC in the same year. As the group evolved—changing its name to the International Socialists (IS) in 1969 and moving toward a “democratic centralist” internal regime—Landy and Harrison found themselves increasingly at odds with the group’s trajectory. They were expelled in 1972 for violating internal discipline, and remained independent socialist activists afterwards, though collaborating with like-minded socialist organizations and individuals, including many who were in the ISC and/or IS. In addition to their work on behalf of the Campaign, Landy and Harrison contributed to debates over foreign policy, health care, the two-party system, and third party politics, through public lectures and contributions to the socialist journal New Politics, along with other magazines and newspapers such as The Nation, The Progressive, and the New York Times.

    In their capacities as co-directors of CPD, Landy and Harrison worked alongside several prominent figures, such as the Berkeley student radical Mario Savio, Chilean playwright Ariel Dorman, whistleblower Daniel Ellsberg, actor Ed Asner, French leftist writer Daniel Singer, then-radical Polish dissident Jacek Kuron, and the historian and anti-nuclear activist E.P. Thompson. The conversation that follows addresses important theoretical and strategic issues, but it also touches on these and other larger-than-life personalities. As the conversation makes clear, Landy and Harrison developed a carefully considered approach to social activism that combined a firm commitment to political clarity with a willingness to pursue friendships and common activity with people from a broad range of backgrounds and perspectives.

    The interview is organized into eleven sections. The first and second (Family Backgrounds, and Radical Politics) explore the social milieu in which Joanne Landy and Thomas Harrison were radicalized in the late 1950s (Landy) and mid-1960s (Harrison). The third, fourth, and fifth sections (The Independent Socialist Club, Socialist Horizons, and The International Socialists) address their involvement in organized third camp politics from the mid-1960s through the early 1970s. The history of Shachtmanism is not well documented and these sections may be of particular interest to readers who are curious about the development of radical, small-d democratic leftism in the United States. The sections that follow (Expulsion and Beyond, Solidarnosc, and Détente from Below) are concerned with the turn Landy and Harrison made in the mid-1970s toward building solidarity with Soviet bloc activists and dissidents, which led to the formation of the Campaign for Peace and Democracy in the early 1980s. The final sections (Liberal Interventionism, and The Near and Middle East) explore the ways in which Landy and Harrison responded to the collapse of the Soviet Union and allied regimes in Central and Eastern Europe, as well as how they sought to apply the third camp template to developments in the Near and Middle East in the wake of the United States’ invasion of Iraq in 2003 and the Arab Spring uprisings in 2010–2011.

    The first half of the interview addresses the question of socialist organization in the U.S. during the midcentury era, while the second is concerned with how two leading third camp activists responded to major international and global crises and conflicts over the past four decades. While a certain amount of biographical information is presented in these pages, there is also a great deal of political analysis that tackles contested issues on the United States and international left.

    In 2014, Left History published my interview with Phyllis and Julius Jacobson, who founded and subsequently co-edited New Politics for four decades.[5] That interview focused on the Jacobsons’ journey from party building in the 1930s and 1940s to producing a pluralistic journal of leftist opinion and debate during the final decades of the twentieth century. The present interview tracks the ways in which two sixties activists have sought to relate third camp principles to ever-changing realities throughout their adult lives. In tandem, the two interviews provide an in-depth look at the development of third camp politics from the 1930s to the present day.

    Family Backgrounds

    Kent Worcester (KW): Did you come from the kinds of families that prepared you for the world of leftwing activism?

    Joanne Landy (JL): My mother was a liberal activist—active in the Parent-Teacher Association, fighting for integrated schools in Chicago in the 1950s. She was not a radical. She supported Planned Parenthood, civil rights, and so on, but she was a little like the people today who would argue that you should vote for Hillary Clinton over Bernie Sanders in the Democratic primary because “she would have had a better chance to win against the Republican” (though perhaps I’m being unfair—she might well have supported Sanders. Since she’s no longer alive, I can’t ask her). But she was a real activist. She would spend hours on the phone talking to allies in the PTA. She was really good at convincing people of her point of view, taking a lot of time, and both feeling and showing respect for people she disagreed with. I learned a lot from her about the nuts and bolts of organizing.

    I had a younger sister—four years younger. I was born in 1941 and she was born in 1945. She died at the age of 36 from alcohol and drugs. My dad was German and Jewish. He left Germany in 1933. He had trained as a lawyer, but the Nazis did not allow Jews to serve in the professions. I don’t think he saw what was coming in Germany, but he knew that things were getting bad. Once he left he lived in France for two years and then came to the U.S. in 1935. He earned a Ph.D. in library science and later became the director of the library at Chicago State University (when he started it was Chicago Teachers College and Wilson Junior College), which is now in the news because it’s being starved of funds. It’s tragic because it was a kind of avenue of mobility for black youth. My dad wasn’t a liberal—he tended more toward moderate conservatism—but he was very proud of the University and the opportunities it offered to people who had few opportunities.

    KW: So when the civil rights movement came along they were both sympathetic.

    JL: I wouldn’t say that. My mother was very sympathetic, but my father complained about how disruptive Martin Luther King was. Then later, when Malcolm X came along, he contrasted him to Martin Luther King. I said, “well, Daddy, don’t you remember how you used to denounce Martin Luther King?” He would just mutter something in response. His takeaway from the German experience was that it was important to maintain order. He had a visceral reaction against chaos. Over time he became mellower about the Civil Rights Movement, but his initial reaction was to say that he was against segregation but that this wasn’t the way to change things.

    So it was a mixed marriage in more than one sense. He was Jewish and she was Unitarian, but at my father’s insistence they agreed to raise my sister and me in the Jewish tradition. Then again, at my mother’s insistence we always had a Christmas tree. My father would turn ashen when it went up a few days before Christmas and regained his color when the tree was taken down in early January. A little tension there.

    Thomas Harrison (TH): My father was a career army officer, whereas my mother’s background was labor liberal. Neither of my parents went to college. My paternal grandfather was a career army sergeant stationed on one of those sleepy pre-World War II bases, this one in Washington State—Fort Casey, on an island at the entrance to Puget Sound. It had big guns trained seaward that were meant to defend Seattle from a maritime invasion. I don’t think my dad originally intended to follow in his father’s footsteps. He worked at the Isaacson steel mill in Seattle and as a merchant seaman on a Dutch ship before he was drafted after Pearl Harbor. Dad saw combat at the Battle of Okinawa, one of the worst, and later in Korea.

    My mother came from a working class family, most of them in the building trades. Her dad was a house painter and a staunch trade unionist. Seattle had this fabulous history of militant labor—the IWW, the 1919 General Strike, etc.—of which I was very much aware even at an early age. I used to do odd jobs for a neighbor, an elderly widow named Betty, who told me how she and her husband would join the mass pickets, thousands of them, in support of the 1934 waterfront strike. My brothers and I were taught never to cross a picket line, and whenever my mother would drive by one she would honk and wave. She was always a New Deal Democrat, and I am sure that had she lived she would have been an enthusiastic supporter of Bernie Sanders. During the War she worked at a radio station in Seattle and belonged to a union that was controlled or heavily influenced by CPers. After she married my father, who had by then become an officer, the FBI came to our door to ask some questions about that; my parents were extremely upset.

    KW: Did she support Henry Wallace in 1948?

    TH: It’s interesting that you ask me this. I don’t think so, but her brother told me, only a short time ago, that he voted for Wallace in ’48. My father became a Reagan Democrat in 1980, for reasons having to do with foreign policy. He was liberal on social issues but he was a hawk. Dad abhorred Communism, of course, but he always had a sneaking interest in it. For example he took me to hear a speech at an outdoor rally in San Jose by Glen Taylor, a fellow traveler and one-time senator from Idaho who had been Wallace’s running mate in ’48. Anyway, he and I had terrible fights about the Vietnam War, the New Left, the draft, and that sort of thing.

    We moved around a lot but both of my parents had roots in Seattle, and it’s where I was born, and we sometimes lived there when I was growing up. I was closest to my maternal grandmother’s side of the family, who were Swedes by way of Norway. My grandmother migrated from Oslo, with her parents and eight of her ten siblings, in 1914. She was active in a Swedish sect, the Mission Covenant Church, and I was baptized at the “Swedish Tabernacle” in downtown Seattle. We also spent time in Germany, Japan, New Orleans, Baltimore, Monterey, Fort Monmouth, New Jersey, and Augusta, Georgia. Never lived in one place longer than three years. I went to a segregated junior high school in a suburb of New Orleans (and later David Duke’s base)—and got in a lot of trouble with my schoolmates for supporting integration, as you might imagine.  I really hated that place, hated the whole South.

    KW: You both went to Berkeley as undergraduates.

    JL: I went to a few schools before I ended up in Berkeley. I started at the University of Chicago just before I turned sixteen. I was there for two years. It was then that I met my first husband—Sy Landy.[6] He lived in New York, so I moved to New York in the fall of 1959.

    KW: How old were you when you got married?

    JL: Eighteen. My parents wondered if I was perhaps a little young, but you have to understand that at the time it was not so very unusual. In general, middle class kids who went to college got married at 21 or 22, but not infrequently they were younger. Things have really changed since then. My parents weren’t too upset by it. They simply wanted to make sure that I was doing what I wanted to do.

    Radical Politics

    KW: Was Sy Landy a Marxist at this point?

    JL: Oh yeah. We met in the Young Peoples Socialist League (YPSL), pronounced yipsel, which was the youth group of the Socialist Party. In high school I had attended workshops organized by the American Friends Service Committee, and I was a committed pacifist by the age of 12 or 13. I made my parents have a minute of silence before every meal, which is something I’d picked up from the Quakers. They patiently went along. I joined YPSL in the late 1950s—1958—which was around the same time that the Shachtman group, the Independent Socialist League (ISL), decided to disband and join the Socialist Party.[7] As a result, the Shachtman youth group, the Young Socialist League (YSL) joined YPSL. In fact, it was Debbie Meier, who had been in the ISL and YSL, who recruited me into YPSL.[8] There were other groups at the University of Chicago in the late 1950s—there were members of the Cochranite group, and the Socialist Workers Party. George Rawick was teaching at the University of Chicago and he had been a Shachtmanite and close to YPSL as well.[9]

    I spent a lot of time reading socialist books and magazines. I was reading a lot of George Orwell (Homage to Catalonia and more), of course Trotsky’s History of the Russian Revolution, and Edmund Wilson’s To the Finland Station—there were a bunch of things you were supposed to have read if you were in or around YPSL. Debbie kept pressing me to join YPSL, and I kept telling her, “Well, there’s so much more I need to read.” She finally said, in an exasperated voice, “Joanne, there will always be more to read. If you basically agree with us now you should help build the organization. If you change your mind later you can always leave.” “Okay, okay, okay,” I finally said.

    Close to when I joined—it might have been just before, or just after—George Rawick and I had a big argument about pacifism. George used to look at his fingernails whenever he would have a serious conversation—so as he was intently focusing on his nails, he said to me, “Well, I would really like to be a pacifist, Joanne, but I can’t for moral reasons.” “Moral reasons?” I squeaked, “That’s my thing!” So he explained to me that you have to look at the consequences of your actions, and that there are situations in which a pacifist position means that not only will you die but other people might die as well. We had a furious argument about this but I recognized pretty quickly that I had been defeated, though it took me a few days to admit it. Nonetheless, to this day I retain a strong sympathy for non-violence, even though I’ve had fierce arguments with pacifists since that time.

    TH: In the 1950s the pacifists were some of the only allies that the ISL had because most were opposed to both sides of the Cold War.

    JL: Even now the War Resisters League are people we often agree with and work with. They’re pacifists but we can agree that in a strategic sense that it’s more often smarter to use non-violent means. Non-violent strategies and tactics are often helpful in terms of exposing the elite causes and sources of violence.

    KW: Tom, were you radicalized in high school?

    TH: Yes, but in an isolated sort of way. I had one or two friends whom I talked politics with, but when I opposed U.S. involvement in Vietnam in a high school debate around 1963 or ‘64, I was the only one. During my senior year in San Jose, I used to spend time with my best friend (who later joined the ISC) at a bookstore that had lots of Marxist and leftwing books and was owned by two friendly older women who must have been current or former members of the CP. The high school library happened to have Isaac Deutscher’s anthology of Trotsky’s writings, which I checked out. As a result of reading Trotsky I started to think of myself as a Trotskyist. I arrived at Berkeley in the fall of 1966, looking for something to join.

    KW: Did you pick Berkeley because of its radical reputation?

    TH: I picked Berkeley because it was affordable—I was a California resident, and it was considered the best of the UC campuses. Even though I had radical ideas, they were pretty inconsistent. For example, I definitely considered myself a revolutionary socialist, yet I was very excited by Bob Scheer’s antiwar campaign in the Democratic primary that summer.

    KW: Joanne, you were at Berkeley by 1964. What was the campus like back then?

    JL: For various reasons a number of us who had been active in YPSL ended up in the Bay Area in the early-to-mid 1960s—Mike Parker,[10] Joel Geier,[11] Sam Farber,[12] Mike Shute,[13] Kit and Lisa Lyons,[14] myself and a few others.

    KW: Sy Landy?

    JL: No, he was still in New York. Sy and I broke up in 1962 or 1963. We remained friendly. Getting divorced was a little difficult—New York State’s laws were pretty archaic. But I found out that we could get our marriage annulled under two conditions: first, if we had been married for under three years, which we were, and, second, if someone would testify that before we were married they had heard Sy promise to support me financially and to have children, and that later, after we were married, that same person had conveniently been present when Sy said that he had never intended to do either. The divorce court was lined end to end with women and a family member or friend who supposedly witnessed such pre-wedding and post-wedding conversations. A real farce.

    TH: Sy was a quintessential New Yorker, very much at home in NYC, and very likeable. Joel Geier used to say that Sy would never leave New York because he’d miss his delicatessen too much. He had a sly sense of humor; Sy once compared some pretentious little revolutionary sect to a flea floating down the river on its back with an erection shouting, “open the drawbridge!”

    JL: We weren’t close after the marriage ended but we were friendly. There’s a funny story about this. At some point in the 1980s, I was one of the main speakers at a public meeting held at the Workmen’s Circle in New York City in defense of Poland’s Solidarnosc. Sy got up during the question-and-answer period and said that Solidarnosc was a bourgeois organization and that no self-respecting socialist should have anything to do with it. Afterwards he came up to me with his sly smile and said, “You know, you owe me a debt of gratitude.” And I said, “Why is that?” And he said, “Well, I didn’t say my name!” That’s an example of his quick sense of humor.

    After Sy and I broke up Mike Shute became my boyfriend. We visited Berkeley in August 1964 and it was hopping. It had campus radicalism, great weather. Mike decided to go to graduate school there, and I was really happy about that.

    TH: There were lots of literature tables that various groups set up on campus, and people would hang around for hours talking about politics. It was an incredible scene. Every day people would stand around and argue for hours and hours. And after the tables were taken down, they would move to The Terrace, behind Sproul Plaza, and continue discussing things over coffee for hours more.

    The Independent Socialist Club

    KW: When did you decide to join the Independent Socialist Club (ISC) in Berkeley?

    JL: I helped to form it in the fall of 1964, shortly before the Free Speech Movement was born. Hal Draper,[15] Ernie Haberkern,[16] David and Mike Friedman, Mike Parker, Joel Geier, Kit and Lisa Lyons, and a number of other people who had been active in the Independent Socialist League or the leftwing of the YPSL decided to launch the ISC in the fall of 1964. The YPSL leftwing was defined by its “third camp” politics—“Neither Washington nor Moscow”—and by its opposition to supporting the Democratic Party. The YPSL right wing followed Max Shachtman, who had earlier advocated for the third camp and independent political action, but who by the early 1960s had become pro-West and for entry into the Democratic Party.

    The ISC got off the ground pretty quickly, and played an important role in the Free Speech Movement—Hal Draper and Jack Weinberg,[17] for example, were leading figures in the FSM.

    KW: Did the ISC view the Free Speech Movement as a recruiting ground?

    JL: That wasn’t the focus or the mentality, though we did recruit dozens of people in those years. The ISC was an organic part of the FSM, and the student movement in general. We recruited out of the movement but we were also part of the movement. We probably had 60-70 members in the Bay Area by the mid-1960s, many of whom were highly active in student politics.

    Image

     Tom Harrison, back row, center; Joanne Landy, second row, right

    KW: Was Hal Draper the group’s leader?

    TH: He was a central figure because of his writings, and he often gave talks and spoke at rallies. We always got a good turnout whenever he spoke. He also took part in a debate with Sociology professor Nathan Glazer about the Free Speech Movement that attracted hundreds of people.

    JL: But he was not the central player from an organizational perspective. Joel Geier and Mike Parker were key in terms of maintaining the group on a daily basis. Geier and Draper would often confer.

    KW: Phyllis and Julius Jacobson suggested that Draper was something of a paradox—he could be remote, but he also was a beloved figure among younger radicals.[18] Jack Weinberg, for example, famously said, “Don’t trust anyone over 30—except Hal Draper.”

    TH: He was just a brilliant guy. And while he was an inspiring speaker, he also spent time talking with people. I remember going on a hike with him and his wife Anne and a bunch of others on Mount Tamalpais. Once he told me I should learn German and dedicate myself to the history of the early years of the Third International. He could be intimidating, and he wasn’t warm or cuddly. I heard that he greeted people by saying, “and how are you justifying your existence?” He was a big wine aficionado—did you know that? He knew a tremendous amount about California wines.

    JL: And he organized square dances! He definitely socialized with people.

    TH: But he maintained a certain distance. He and Anne weren’t expansive and embracing like Phyllis and Julius Jacobson, who would frequently invite us over for dinner and holidays, invite us to stay at their vacation home upstate, and so on.

    JL: The Drapers were much older than most of us, but they weren’t anti-social. I wrote my senior thesis at Berkeley on the ideas of Lenin and Luxemburg, and Hal spent many hours helping me with it. The Drapers were always friendly with me, but some people may have had different experiences. Whenever I called Hal, and said, “How are you?” there was silence on the other end. Finally, one day I said, “Hal, why aren’t you saying something?” He said, “Well, the question is just a formality.” And I said, “Hal, it’s a conversation stopper if you don’t say anything. You need to say ‘fine’ or ‘not bad’ or something.” He said, “Really? OK.” After that he would always say, “fine” whenever I asked him how he was. Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?

    KW: Mario Savio, the leader of the Free Speech Movement, seems to have been the right person at the right time.

    JL: Very sweet and very smart. The Free Speech Movement was much bigger than anything I’d ever seen before—it was an engulfing moment. It was a revolution, but on a single campus. It bore a kinship to what I had read about the Russian Revolution, but on a smaller scale of course. You saw authority crumble, you saw the students win their demands, you saw different sectors of the students and faculty come over to our side. There were setbacks and pauses, and times when we vigorously debated how to respond to one problem or another. In the end, we won. It was invigorating and educational.

    TH: When I was an undergraduate at Berkeley there was a student strike almost every quarter, it seemed. I actually went to very few classes. I was reading a lot, but not necessarily what was required for my classes.

    Just to give you a sense of the times, there was a sit-in a couple of months after my arriving on campus, which I rushed to join. It was around a Naval ROTC table in the Student Union—as a non-student group they were allowed to recruit there while the non-student political groups weren’t. I didn’t get arrested, but a few people, including Mario Savio, did. That led to a strike. Before that, in September I think, I was attending a rally at Sproul Plaza and a young woman came up to me with a piece of cardboard that was filled with political buttons. One of the buttons said, “I wouldn’t vote for [Edmund] Brown even if he ran against Ronald Reagan.” This was prior to the California gubernatorial election, which Reagan won.

    And this was Joanne. She asked me if I’d like to buy this button, and I said, “No, but I would like to buy a button with a picture of Karl Marx,” which she said she had. So we had a conversation that lasted several hours on the steps of Sproul Plaza.

    JL: We went through all the big issues—the Russian Revolution, Stalinism, the Cold War.

    KW: Who were some of your favorite professors?

    TH: Carl Schorske, Larry Levine, Reginald Zelnick in History, and Mike Rogin in the Political Science department.

    JL: Mike Rogin was close to the ISC, in fact. All of these people we’ve named were part of the pro-student wing of the faculty. They didn’t take part in the sit-ins but they played an active supporting role. William Kornhauser, Philip Selznick in Sociology, Sheldon Wolin in Political Science.

    TH: Right. But there were some real trolls, too—Martin Malia, who was a great historian but a terrible reactionary. Gerald Feldman was another, a specialist in German history. He absolutely hated the student movement, and there was a rumor that he carried a blackjack in his pocket. One night there was a fire at Wheeler Auditorium, and I was with Joanne, and Feldman was there and accused Joanne of being to blame.

    JL: And I said, “What the hell are you talking about?”

    KW: Nathan Glazer was another critic of the student movement, although his approach was much more low-key.

    JL: There’s a funny story about Hal Draper and Nathan Glazer. We—the ISC branch—had decided to organize a debate about the Free Speech Movement after the FSM had won. And we wanted to invite Glazer to represent the liberal position. Glazer’s view was that the FSM’s use of civil disobedience was illegitimate. Draper’s position was that the FSM needed radical means and radical leaders to win even liberal goals—and that without radicals taking the lead the Free Speech Movement would have never succeeded.

    So I phoned Glazer and invited him to participate in this debate. And Glazer, who was well aware of Draper’s debating prowess, said, “I’ll get slaughtered.” So I said, “Don’t say yes or no right away, but take some time to think it over. Let me call you back in a couple of days.”

    And I called him back a couple of days later, and he said, “Joanne, I’m not suicidal. I’m not going to do this.” I told him, “If you don’t do it, we’re going to have to ask Professor William Petersen to do it.” “Oh no!” he said, aghast, because he knew that this would discredit his side of the debate. I said, “Why don’t you think about it some more? Let me call you back in a couple of days.” Eventually he said, “OK, but I’m going to regret this for the rest of my life.” The debate finally happened, and of course he got slaughtered.

    KW: Did ISC members listen to rock music? Did the men grow their hair long?

    TH: We certainly weren’t hippies, but there was long hair, short hair – there was no sense whatsoever of a dress code in the ISC. Lots of people smoked dope, went to rock concerts, and so on. It was all very porous. And of course that was a glorious time and Berkeley was a glorious place for popular culture. Bands such as Big Brother and the Holding Company and Jefferson Airplane sometimes played for free in the parks. Janis Joplin was just mind-blowing. Right after my freshman year was the “Human Be-In” and afterwards the “Summer of Love.”

    JL: And we were all affected by what was going on around us, including the music. But there were arguments—we would argue with people over what might be described today as “anti-politics.” We didn’t think that dropping out or building communes would lead to the revolution. But we were part of the sixties culture.

    Socialist Horizons

    KW: In the mid-1960s the ISC is growing and the anti-Vietnam war movement is gaining traction. Did you think that a socialist transformation might be on the horizon?

    TH: No. We never thought that socialist revolution was imminent. Never.

    JL: But we were excited about the antiwar movement, and we were also excited about how the ISC was doing. We had an optimistic and enthusiastic feeling, but we weren’t living under the illusion that socialism was around the corner. We tried to be sober about these things. But on the other hand the group gained members and established new chapters in the late 1960s—there was a definite sense of momentum.

    KW: When did your optimism peak?

    TH: 1968 of course was the most exciting year. It was worldwide. France, Czechoslovakia. If you think about what took place in France it is almost unbelievable—workers and students united, the government shaken to its foundations, our dream come true.

    JL: There was a vibrant if not unproblematic student movement, and antiwar movement, here in the United States. You didn’t have to believe that we would soon be following in France’s footsteps to be hopeful. It’s perhaps easier for people who lived through this period to retain a sense of optimism than it might be for people who didn’t experience the sixties firsthand.

    KW: My impression is that the Students for a Democratic Society (SDS) was not much of a factor at Berkeley.

    TH: It was there—it had a presence—but it never amounted to much, mainly because it was so faction-ridden and full of internal bickering.

    JL: It wasn’t hegemonic in the way it was on some campuses. Also, by the time that SDS was on the scene there was already a well-established campus left that had a strong sense of itself. And to some degree Berkeley is in its own world. It’s not that we didn’t know about what was going on at Harvard or Columbia, but Berkeley’s New Left was unique.

    KW: And when did you start to think, “Oh no, this is starting to smell bad.”

    TH: 1969. Things started to get very dire—Weathermen, Progressive Labor…

    JL: And SDS split apart.

    TH: Maoism in this country really got going around 1969-1970. Bob Avakian is part of this story of course, and he was in the Bay Area.[19]

    JL: Bob Avakian’s father, Spurgeon Avakian, was a judge, and in fact he presided at my second wedding, to Nelson Lichtenstein.[20] A while after Mike and I broke up in the late sixties I began to see Nelson, also a history PhD student at UC Berkeley. We lived together and then got married. Nelson and I moved to New York in 1975—he couldn’t find a job in the academy, so he moved here to work at Facts on File. Tom moved to New York a few months after we did.

    TH: Nelson is a very warm person, generous and full of enthusiasm, and he’s been an outstanding labor historian for many years. His first book, which was based on his dissertation, was profoundly shaped by his time around the ISC. When I moved to New York to attend grad school at Columbia, Nelson gave me some writing work at Facts on File, where he was an editor, providing badly needed income to supplement my measly fellowship.

    JL: The ISC changed dramatically in the early 1970s, however. It was larger in numbers, and had already decided to rename itself the International Socialists in 1969. There was a sharp turn toward industry, which meant placing members in key industrial sectors such as auto and steel. The group became “harder” as a result—this wouldn’t have necessarily followed, but it did. Draper initially supported the policy of industrialization but didn’t agree with the way in which it was implemented, and he dropped out of the organization in 1971.

    TH: By the way, we very much agreed with Draper about the recklessness with which the IS tried to turn itself into a workers’ party.

    JL: I wasn’t against the general strategy of industrialization—Hal and Anne actually were the ones who convinced me of its merits. But I was not in favor of the manner in which it was done, and the things that went along with it. I wasn’t in favor of shaming people who for whatever reason weren’t ready to take the plunge. I wasn’t in favor of ignoring the gains we had made and could still make on college campuses. And I wasn’t in favor of the idea that we had become a “pre-party” formation, and that we were on the way to building the revolutionary party.

    TH: What we needed was a few more years to build a healthy third camp tendency.

    KW: Tom, you didn’t come out as a gay man while you were at Berkeley.

    TH: Oh no, that was much later. I was very confused—it was personal and it’s hard to describe or explain. I didn’t know. Plus, this was before Gay Liberation—before 1969, I mean—and the atmosphere in the ISC did not seem friendly to homosexuality. It was a subtle thing; there was no formal sanction on being gay, as there was in some of the sects. On the contrary, after Stonewall the IS responded quickly to Gay Liberation by adopting an excellent position on gay rights, and the atmosphere improved a great deal. But before 1969 there were the occasional (private) sneers and jokes about homosexuals, and, to me at least, there was a sense that gays were merely tolerated. I certainly felt intimidated, but I can’t blame that for my confusion, which had much more to do with my own anxieties than anything about the organization.

    I think it’s hard now to recall how natural it was in those days for straights—including socialists—to treat gays as at best neurotic and embarrassing and at worst disgusting. After all, it wasn’t until 1973 that the American Psychiatric Association declared that homosexuality was not a mental illness. And psychiatric orthodoxy, Freudianism, etc., was widely accepted among the comrades.

    JL. I’m horrified to learn that anyone in the ISC was making such degrading, coarse jokes and sneers.

    The International Socialists

    KW: The IS was launched in 1969; Hal Draper joins the organization but leaves in 1971. Were you part of a factional grouping within the IS during this period?

    TH: Joanne, Mike Shute, and Charlie Capper were not quite a faction but they were…

    JL: We were a tendency—with a small-t—of like-minded people. We didn’t draw organizational lines that you could or couldn’t cross.

    KW: But your opposition to calling for a National Liberation Front (NLF) victory in Vietnam helped bring you together.

    JL: That was the main issue. We formed a “third camp tendency” a few months before we were expelled from the Berkeley IS in January 1972. Tom was a member but he wasn’t expelled, because he was living in Seattle at the time.

    KW: Is opposition to an NLF victory a policy you support in retrospect? I assume that by this point the radical wing of the anti-Vietnam War movement actively favored an NLF victory.

    JL: The ISC had always maintained a third camp position on the question of the Vietnam War. After the Tet Offensive, however, Draper argued that the group should support the military victory of the NLF on the grounds that the NLF had become the de facto government, so it had become a question of national self-determination. Mike Shute and I and others continued to support what we believed to be the consistent third camp position, and we made our case in a leaflet that we distributed at an antiwar demonstration in 1971, which led to our expulsion in January of the following year.

    TH: The “third camp tendency” consisted of a small group of IS members: Joanne and myself, Mike Shute, Charlie Capper, Lois Weiner,[21] Nelson Lichtenstein, Bruce and Cynthia Novack, and one or two others. Draper had written this long piece on self-determination in which he made his case for military support to the NLF, while our group coalesced around the third camp position. Joanne wrote a response to Draper’s piece that was also quite lengthy. Some of the same questions arise today in relation to, say, Iraq and Syria. We argued that one could unequivocally call for unilateral U.S. withdrawal from Vietnam without supporting the NLF; today we oppose U.S. military intervention in the Middle East but also oppose regimes like those of Saddam Hussein or Bashar al-Assad.

    KW: Let’s suppose the organizers of a demonstration issue four demands, and one of the demands is victory to the NLF. Would you encourage people to skip the demonstration?

    JL: It’s always a question of degree. Similar questions came up with protests over the Iraq war. If it was a demonstration organized by ANSWER, then their support for Saddam Hussein became a prominent part of the demonstration, and I myself wouldn’t attend such a protest.[22] But if it’s part of the mix I’m not going to be happy, but I go. And if I have the time, and courage, and wit to say something or carry a third camp sign, then I’ll do that.

    TH: People who are involved in ANSWER support all kinds of dictators—not only Saddam Hussein, but Assad in Syria, Kim Il-Jung in North Korea, and so on. But most people who join a march organized by ANSWER aren’t necessarily aware of the group’s hideous politics.

    JL: An example of this came up last weekend. There was an anti-NATO demonstration where nothing was said about Putin, Assad, Ukraine, and so on. A supporter of the Campaign for Peace and Democracy urged people to attend the march even though he wasn’t endorsing it. I probably would have gone if I could have but I’m not completely certain about that. There’s not a single formula we can use to decide these things. It’s on a spectrum.

    KW: Were there antiwar activists who tuned you out once they learned about your position on the NLF?

    TH: It was an unpopular position, that’s for sure—and still is!

    JL: It seemed to us that the IS people felt relieved that they no longer had to defend this unpopular position. They gave military support to the NLF but not political support, but you didn’t hear much about their political criticisms.

    KW: The U.S. Socialist Workers Party also opposed the “victory to the NLF” demand. Their position was, “Bring the Troops Home Now.” Is that where you ended up?

    TH: Of course we supported the demand of Bring the Troops Home Now, but we also emphasized the question of independent political action. And in practice this differentiated us from the SWP and their youth group the YSA. The SWP danced around the issue of the Democratic Party and its role vis-à-vis the antiwar movement. Meanwhile, they would run their own sectarian electoral campaigns.

    JL: Although the SWP had its own speakers advocating a vote for its own candidates, it avoided including non-SWP speakers, such as from the new Peace and Freedom Party, who advocated independence from and no support to the Democratic Party at their rallies and demonstrations. I would never insist that an antiwar demonstration be built around a call for independent political action, or that liberal politicians be excluded as speakers. But I would want to make sure that the independent political action position was represented on the speakers’ platform.

    Expulsion and Beyond

    KW: But why did the IS expel you over this question of support for the NLF? Why wasn’t this something that could be debated within the organization?

    JL: It could be debated. We were expelled because we passed out a leaflet with our point of view at an antiwar demonstration, even though the leaflet said clearly that we were a minority tendency in the IS.

    TH: We had “violated discipline.” And this was at a time when the IS was trying to transform itself into a more disciplined organization.

    JL: The leadership said that we could make the case for our position in the group’s journal, but that we couldn’t pass out our own leaflet at a public event. They insisted that Lenin and the Bolsheviks would never have allowed it. We responded by pointing out that we weren’t experiencing another 1917, that the stakes were not quite as high, and that in fact the Bolsheviks were often rather looser in their approach to discipline. We also predicted that our expulsion was going to be the beginning of a process of the organization enduring more and more splits and expulsions in the future.

    On a related point, Mike Shute had an excellent piece of advice, which we did our best to adhere to—he said, let’s make this the friendliest split in the history of the left. We realized that despite our expulsion these were the people that we were closest to politically, so why not try to get along? In this we succeeded; in fact, we are friendly to this day with people who voted for or supported our expulsion, and often collaborate with them.

    TH: The judge at our “trial” was Sam Farber, a brilliant analyst of the Cuban Stalinist regime, a longtime friend of the Campaign for Peace and Democracy, and a personal friend.

    JL: For a long time, whenever Sam came in the room we’d say, “Here comes the judge!”

    KW: If your group had said, “We’ve made a mistake, you were right,” they would have taken you back.

    JL: Oh yeah. They regretted, as they saw it, having to drive us out. It was…peculiar. And we weren’t at all eager to leave the organization, but we weren’t willing to remain under the conditions the majority insisted on.

    KW: After you left IS you formed a group called “Socialists for Independent Politics.” What did you hope to accomplish?

    JL: Just to hold things together. To get some ideas down on paper.

    KW: Why didn’t you leave with Draper?

    TH: Because we didn’t agree with his organizational proposals—turning the group into a mere editorial board plus supporters—and we felt that he was soft on the union bureaucracy.

    KW: Nevertheless, Draper’s departure must have been a little discouraging.

    TH: Yes, but I think that Draper himself had become discouraged. The fiasco of the Cleaver campaign for president in 1968, on the Peace and Freedom Party ticket, definitely played a part in this. He had been a big proponent of both Peace and Freedom, and, at first, the Cleaver ticket. But Cleaver made a farce out of the entire campaign. With a different candidate and a serious, broader campaign, Peace and Freedom might have picked up a lot of Eugene McCarthy’s supporters after the Democratic convention, I think, because there were thousands of angry young McCarthy supporters who hated Humphrey and didn’t know where to turn, and because the idea of a genuinely antiwar party had a certain appeal at the time. After that, Draper really became sour on organizational issues.

    JL: He reacted correctly, I think, against some of the wild-eyed “struggle group” ideas—that rank and file militants should leave the existing unions and build new working class organizations to replace them—that were floating around the IS at the time. On the other hand he was skating toward a generalized defense of the labor bureaucracy. We didn’t really agree with either position.

    TH: In addition, the tone of the Draper group was very different from our tone. We tried to be friendly. Their approach was the opposite. They were contemptuous, arrogant, and hostile in their dealing with the IS majority.

    JL: But we also tried to maintain good relationships with the folks around Draper.

    KW: Did it take you a few years to adjust to not being in an organization?

    JL: It’s true that ever since then I’ve felt a little sorry not to have an organization like the ISC was before it changed—radical, democratic, third campish, and looser than the IS became in the 1970s. A small group of determined people can make a difference, especially if you have good ideas. As socialist independents, we’ve worked alongside small socialist groups—Solidarity, for example, as well as the International Socialist Organization (ISO), and the Democratic Socialists of American (DSA). We’ve been involved in politics for quite a few years without being in a formal group, so we’ve gotten used to it. The Campaign for Peace and Democracy has provided a way of promoting third camp ideas without having to belong to any particular socialist organization.

    KW: Before we talk more about the Campaign, could you both say something about the shock of moving from the West Coast to New York City in the mid-1970s.

    TH: There were times when I wondered whether I had made a big mistake. This was 1975. The city was in terrible shape. It looked bad, and it felt scary. It actually smelled bad. I arrived in the summer and it was just hideous.

    KW: George Orwell here.

    TH: I was starting grad school at Columbia, in History. I never finished my Ph.D., however. I received a fellowship to study in Paris in 1978, and ended up staying longer than I had expected—a year and a half—because I liked it so much. My advisor was Robert Paxton, whose path-breaking book on Vichy France had come out just three years before I came to Columbia and caused a huge sensation in France. He was an outstanding scholar, dignified and extremely erudite, and very principled. I returned to New York in 1980 and was at loose ends. I found a job at the Brearley School, a private girl’s school in Manhattan, and I’ve been teaching there ever since.

    KW: When did you join the New Politics editorial board?

    JL: My former husband Sy Landy and I had worked on the magazine when we were living in New York City in the early 1960s. Sy was on the editorial board for a few years, and I wasn’t. The sexist exclusion wasn’t just about me—Julie [Julius] was editor, and his wife Phyllis wasn’t even though she was actually co-editor. The exclusion was completely unconscious.

    Even after I moved to Berkeley in 1964 we sold the magazine at ISC tables and events. New Politics was starting to wind down in the mid-1970s but the magazine revived in 1986, and Tom and I have both been active as contributors and editors of this second series of the magazine.

    We did maintain a Socialists for Independent Politics discussion group for several years. We met at Cynthia Novack and Dick Bull’s (her second husband) apartment every couple of months or so. Cynthia and Dick were dancers and their apartment was also a dance studio. Draper spoke to our group when he was in town. There were eight or ten of us, and another ten or fifteen people would turn up. We weren’t a formal organization but it was a way to keep our politics alive. We even published a mimeographed bulletin.

    TH: We had an interesting discussion about the 1980 Barry Commoner campaign, as I recall. And some of us were active in the campaign.

    Solidarnosc

    KW: Solidarnosc, the independent trade union in Poland, was launched in 1980, and the Campaign for Peace and Democracy/East and West was formed a couple of years later to help promote ties between democratic labor, peace and human rights activists across Cold War lines.

    JL: I remember quite vividly how the group got started. Arthur Lipow was visiting New York, and Solidarnosc had just gotten underway in Poland.[23] In his typical manner he said, “Joanne, you must do something about this. This is a historic opportunity for our politics and you just have to organize something.” I have to give him credit—he was right.

    A small group of us then met in my apartment – Gail Daneker, Judy Hempfling, Chris Meagher, Sam Farber, Gabe Gabrielsky, Mel Bienenfeld, and a couple of others. Gail had come from the world of left-leaning NGOs, and she was the person who knew that we would need a board of directors, and that we would need to file the paperwork in order to claim nonprofit status. She also encouraged us to reach out to folks like Ed Asner, Paul Sweezy, Seymour Melman, Erika Munk, Pete Seeger—people from outside our existing circle of contacts, in other words. We also got in touch with Mike Harrington, Barbara Garson, and David McReynolds, whom I had known from past activities. In addition, we made a point of making sure that we involved people who had been in and around the Communist Party but who were shaken up by the struggles that were taking place in countries like Poland. It was easy to attract the support of people who already had third camp politics, but we worked hard to reach beyond the traditional third camp milieu.

    KW: Were you thinking that this was broadly analogous to the crisis within the Communist world that erupted in 1956-1957, as a result of the Hungarian revolt and the Khrushchev revelations about Stalin?

    JL: Maybe we should have but I don’t remember thinking in those terms.

    TH: We didn’t anticipate anything quite so cosmic. We just knew that Poland was in turmoil.

    JL: In 1980 it was just Poland. We wanted to get people talking about the importance of independent trade unions in so-called workers’ states, and toward that end we organized a couple of well-attended public events in New York. And in fact, we hadn’t expected these events to attract as many people as they did. We organized a public meeting with something like twenty speakers at Washington Irving High School, and after that there was a big event at the Town Hall that was mainly organized by Ralph Schoenman.

    These events helped bring together a core group of people, many of whom came out of third camp politics. But it wasn’t limited to third camp socialists—Gail, for example, wasn’t a socialist but was a Green. She didn’t like the idea of nationalizing practically anything. But she was pro-labor and had worked for a group called Environmentalists for Full Employment, so she came out of a small-d democratic background. Steve Becker was another pro-labor green who worked closely with the Campaign.

    KW: Women have played a central leadership role in the Campaign from the beginning. Were you thinking that peace groups had been mostly dominated by men and that you needed a more feminist approach to these issues?

    JL: I had been a leading member of the ISC, and for a short period the IS, and of course a woman, but I never thought about the question of leadership from a feminist perspective until years later. Gail and I were both feminists, and we were the Campaign’s leading members, but we didn’t think about the Campaign as a women-led movement.

    TH: I never thought about it either.

    JL: But now that you mention it…

    KW: Who were the most interesting speakers at your early events?

    JL: Harrington comes to mind. He quite liked what we were up to, i.e., the broadness of our approach. We weren’t close friends, and had many disagreements, but he was a friendly kind of person.

    TH: Daniel Singer was an inspiring speaker and very close to us.

    KW: What made you decide to create an actual organization?

    JL: Well, we had organized a couple of big events, and we wanted to build on our success. We officially launched CPD/EW in 1982 with a dinner at Sardi’s. Adam Hochschild came to the dinner, and he later joined our board.

    KW: You must have spent hours setting up the organization—tax forms, post office forms, and so on. Did any other ISC/IS spin-offs go in this NGO direction?

    TH: Labor Notes and Teamsters for a Democratic Union both come to mind. But our focus on foreign policy was distinctive.

    KW: The NGO model of organization offered certain advantages—it’s much easier to raise foundation money if you have a 501(c)(3) status, for example.

    JL: Even individuals. If you want gifts to be tax deductible you need that 501(c)(3) status. I never even knew about this until Gail laid it all out. The problem with the term “NGO” is that it has a bad odor for some people—there are definitely NGOs out there that exist simply in order to keep themselves afloat.

    KW: How would you describe the Campaign?

    JL: As an advocacy group—a third camp advocacy organization. We were radical democrats who opposed the elite-driven foreign policy of the United States and supported social justice, democracy and freedom from great power domination everywhere.

    KW: What was it like working with Ed Asner?

    JL: “Work with” is a little bit of an exaggeration. He signed our first ad in the New York Times, “U.S. Peace and Labor activists defend Polish Solidarnosc on Trial,” which appeared on April 10, 1983, and he came with us later when we went to the Polish Embassy to protest repression against Solidarnosc. We had sent out a press release, but there didn’t seem to be any press in the vicinity as we gathered our group outside the embassy, but when Ed showed up suddenly there were press photographers everywhere, sprouting up like mushrooms after the rain. Another big name was the writer Ariel Dorfman, whom Tom mentioned. He also has joined many of our protests and petitions.

    Building the Campaign

    TH: In some ways the most important people who worked with us were from Europe—E.P. Thompson, for example, as well as folks from Eastern Europe.

    KW: Were European leftists were generally more willing to criticize the Soviet Union, and Soviet-style states in Eastern Europe, than U.S. leftists, many of whom clung to the perspective that the enemy of our enemy is our friend?

    TH: It certainly seemed that way. There was less interest in the Solidarnosc movement in the U.S. than there seemed to be in Europe. Also, Europeans felt under the gun because of the military buildup that was taking place. There was genuine grassroots concern about what both the Americans and the Soviets were up to so far as nuclear weapons were concerned.

    JL: The Campaign helped encourage the major U.S. peace organizations to reach out to independent peace activists in the Soviet bloc. The Fellowship of Reconciliation, War Resisters League, Sojourners, the nuclear freeze campaign, and the American Friends Service Committee (AFSC), as well as local peace groups around the country—they all became more interested in and supportive of independent movements in Eastern Europe as a result of our efforts. This also applied to leading individuals in the peace movement, such as Randy Forsberg and Pam Solo. To say that we worked closely with them might be an overstatement, but people from these groups supported our campaigns, came to our events, and sometimes spoke at them. That was one of the big accomplishments of the Campaign. The tendency of the big peace groups had been to avoid having anything to do with independent activists from places like Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union out of concern for legitimizing U.S. militarism. This started to change as a result of our efforts to show that opposing the U.S. war machine and supporting democratic rights in the Soviet bloc could actually strengthen both causes. The U.S. Peace Council would have nothing to do with us, of course, because they really were pro-Soviet.

    Image

    Our position was quite simple. We were not demanding that the peace movement make a complete break with people who were soft on the Soviet question. So for example, if a group such as the AFSC or the Fellowship of Reconciliation went to Moscow, we would encourage them to meet with independent people, and we wouldn’t denounce them for meeting the leaders of the official peace groups, even though we believed and said that these official groups weren’t genuine anti-war organizations since they condemned only the U.S. and not the Soviet Union.

    TH: E.P. Thompson played a crucial role in all of this. He really encouraged peace activists in Britain as well as Western Europe and the United States to search for counterparts in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union, and to help them in any way that we could. His writings were critically important in terms of taking on the theories that were used to justify the Cold War and nuclear deterrence, making the case for a nuclear free world and for building a peace movement that was genuinely independent of both the West and the Soviet bloc. He was also an incredibly electrifying speaker.

    JL: Thompson was the person who developed the intellectual framework for the idea of détente from below. Of course, when we read about his ideas they fit perfectly with the politics that we had already had, but he put it in new language and from a fresh perspective. The fact that he was an ex-CP person himself was also important.

    KW: The ice was cracking.

    TH: There was a parallel with 1956 in that you could begin to see the possibility of a real embodiment of the third camp ideal. Here was this peace movement in the West with major components consciously committed to building bridges with independent peace activists in Eastern Europe. There was a point in the 1980s when it seemed as if there was a common struggle that united people across the Cold War divide—a struggle that was against U.S. foreign policy, about the placement of missiles on European soil, but that was also against authoritarian rule in the Soviet bloc. It was very exciting.

    KW: When does Christopher Hitchens enter this story?

    JL: There was a vivid personality! And he really did work closely with the Campaign until he broke with us over Bosnia. He came with a group of us when we went to Czechoslovakia; he organized a public meeting for the Campaign in Washington, D.C.; he spoke at many of our events, including the big one-day conferences. The first inkling that I had that there was an emerging divergence between us was in the early 1990s, when we were talking about the United Nations. I was making the point that it is a top-down organization in which the great powers make the crucial decisions. And he said, “Well, it’s run by the victors of World War Two and that’s pretty good.”

    TH: The big turning point for him, as Joanne noted, was Yugoslavia, when he came out in favor of a NATO intervention in Bosnia in 1994.

    KW: Whereas the Campaign’s position was that the international embargo against Bosnia should have been lifted, so that they could defend themselves.

    TH: I ended up writing a great deal about Bosnia, and spoke at quite a few events. At one point I, along with Steve Shalom, took part in a public debate with Michael Walzer and Bogdan Denitch on the question of U.S. and NATO intervention in Bosnia. It was actually broadcast on cable TV, on a show called “Perspectives from the Left.”

    Détente from Below

    KW: The Campaign initially focused on developments in Eastern Europe. What made you decide to expand your focus to encompass Latin America, the Near and Middle East, and so on?

    JL: It’s not exactly true that we initially focused on Eastern Europe to the exclusion of other areas of the world. Even at the beginning we were interested in countries within the Western “camp,” such as Turkey, the Philippines, in Latin America, etc. One of the most important things we did was to enlist Eastern European intellectuals and trade union activists to sign statements opposing U.S. policy towards Nicaragua and Chile. International solidarity—independent of and in defiance of the superpowers—was baked into the Campaign from the beginning.

    TH: That was the point. We were trying to break down bipolar, Cold War-type thinking.

    JL: We never imagined that we could address every issue around the world. For a long time, our focus was on Eastern Europe and Latin America.

    TH: Even at our first all-day conference we included a panel on Tibet. Other panels I recall were on Kashmir, and the EU with John Palmer. We did events about the Kurds. The goal was to encourage solidarity from below, and to bring together democratic, peace, and trade union activists in a way that was genuinely independent of Cold War thinking.

    KW: What was it like to have been heavily involved in Eastern European solidarity activism, and then for the Soviet bloc to fall apart in a few short years?

    TH: It was a big surprise. Everybody says that, and it’s true. Despite all of the warning signs, none of us expected it. The system may have been disintegrating, but it seemed like it would never end. When the end came, it was thrilling. We had high hopes, which sadly were not realized. And so we had to adjust to a new set of realities. Joanne wrote a series of very effective essays about shock therapy and so on.

    JL: I was in Poland in 1989, and it was clear that things were not moving in a socialist direction. Some of the activists that I knew were still holding onto a radical sensibility but other people who had come out of leftwing anti-Stalinist politics were beginning to think and sound like typical Western politicians. I remember going to a meeting after 1989 at Helsinki Watch in New York where Adam Michnik gave a presentation. He had recently been elected to parliament, and I asked him why he hadn’t told voters that his party was planning to close many of the Gdansk shipyards. He said that they hadn’t expected to get elected so that’s why they hadn’t spelled out their program. I followed up by saying, well, once you were elected and you were going to begin to take action, don’t you think you should have consulted the Polish people again, and asked for some kind of support for your plans? He didn’t reply.

    So you can imagine how devastating it was to see people who had been grassroots activists suddenly become the shock troops for neoliberalism. I don’t think that what happened was inevitable. But it was a reflection of the weakness of the global left that the only thing that seemed like an alternative to the Communist regimes was the capitalist system. Anyway, by the summer of ‘89 I was very depressed about the pro-capitalist direction developments in Eastern Europe were taking, even though I of course welcomed the end of Russian domination and one-party dictatorship.

    TH: This was at a time when Reaganism, Thatcherism, and neoliberalism were absolutely hegemonic. The left was at its very weakest.

    JL: And on the whole, the left in the West was very reluctant to extend its support to the struggles of dissidents and ordinary people in Eastern Europe in initiatives such as Solidarnosc in Poland and Charter 77 in Czechoslovakia. The people who were actually on the ground, offering support, were from the National Endowment for Democracy, the AFL-CIO, and others who supported U.S. imperial foreign policy aims. And their support came with all kinds of conditions. It wasn’t that individual dissidents were corrupt or greedy—most of the people we knew in Poland, for example, were dedicated small-d democratic activists. Many had embraced democratic socialist ideals in their youth and were broadly egalitarian in their outlook. But the system they were living under collapsed at a time when it seemed like the only option on the table was market capitalism. Progressive and left movements in the West were not only weak; they were generally uninterested in offering the East Europeans a different path as they ended the Communist system.

    TH: Many of the people we’re talking about came of age during the 1960s, when the left was relatively strong and hopes were high. And it went downhill from that point on. It was tragic.

    KW: What are some of the lessons of the Campaign? What kinds of initiatives worked and what kinds didn’t?

    TH: We got a lot of things right, in my view. For example, the work we did in the 1980s around dissidents and movements from below in Eastern Europe, like the work we did around Bosnia in the 1990s, was unusual on the radical left for its emphasis on the issue of democracy, including the democratic right of peoples to self-determination.

    JL: It’s important to emphasize that the Campaign was and is a specific type of group. It’s not a membership organization. The projects that we undertook were related to how we were organized. We were always a small, self-organized group that wrote statements, sponsored public meetings, and so forth. We started with Poland, and a lot of people continued to associate us with the work we did around Solidarnosc, and Central and Eastern Europe more generally. Our approach then was to build ties between grassroots activists in the West and dissidents in the East—détente from below, in other words.

    And over time we were able to attract support from prominent individuals in the peace movement who proved willing to sign statements of support for Solidarnosc and other grassroots movements in Eastern Europe. Peace groups had traditionally stayed away from taking a critical stand on anything having to do with the Soviet bloc, and were often willing to meet with official peace groups from the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe, validating the idea that they were actual counterparts to our own independent peace organizations. Our efforts had an impact in terms of helping people move beyond the Cold War framework: even though some peace groups continued to meet with government-controlled groups from the Eastern bloc, they frequently challenged authorities on their repression of independent groups and met with independent groups as well.

    My first trip to the region was in 1981, the year of the U.S. Professional Air Traffic Controllers Organization (PATCO) strike. I recall that vividly. Since I was respecting the strike by not flying from a U.S. airport, I took a train to Montreal and flew from there to Warsaw on LOT Polish airlines. When I got to Warsaw, I went into the LOT ticket office to arrange details of my return flight. I was wearing my “Support PATCO Strikers” button, and the staff spontaneously shouted out their approval.

    KW: What was it like to visit Warsaw in this period?

    JL: It was thrilling. The atmosphere in the building where Solidarnosc was meeting was electric. There were meetings of all sorts going on simultaneously—steelworkers, journalists, academics. People were rushing up and down the stairs with papers, coffee, etc. It reminded me of the heady days in Berkeley, California, when I was active in the Free Speech Movement in 1964.

    KW: Was your hotel room bugged?

    JL: I assumed that it might be, so I was cautious in what I said. When I met with Solidarnosc people in their homes, if a sensitive topic came up they would point to the ceiling and twirl their index finger in a circle to indicate that we were likely being bugged, at which point we would just write down key points of our conversation and show the paper to one another.

    KW: Were you followed from the airport?

    JL: I don’t know. I wasn’t aware of being followed from the airport, but once, a few years later, when I was in Gdansk, I met with one of the women who had been active in the Gdansk shipyard strike that sparked the birth of Solidarnosc as an independent trade union. As we walked through the streets she said, “Well, you know, they’re following us”—I hadn’t noticed a thing—and she took me through a couple of crowded department stores, where we’d go in one set of doors and leave by another that exited onto another street.

    TH: When I visited members of the Trust Group in Moscow in the 1980s they didn’t even write things down on paper—they used those erasable pads with cellophane, so that anything they wrote down could be immediately erased.

    KW: How did you know whom to work with?

    TH: It was usually pretty obvious, because these were the people who were leading members of democratic movements, whether they were organized around issues of peace, labor rights, or whatever.

    JL: Helsinki Watch helped us identify some people, but as far back as the early 1960s we were in touch with various radicals in Eastern Europe. Back in Berkeley there was a fellow named Witold Jedlicki who had been hidden by the family of Jan-Jósef Lipski during World War II. As a result, he was a close friend of Lipski, who became a leading member of the KOR group of intellectuals that helped advise Solidarnosc in its early phase. The first time I went to Poland I was able to meet Lipski. There was a Solidarnosc conference going on at the time and I was able to attend the conference and met a lot of interesting people as a result. At a later point an independent peace group called Freedom and Peace was organized in Poland and they were particularly keen to establish links with groups like ours in the west. Their leader, Jacek Czaputowicz, was in and out of jail in the 1980s, and I visited with him very shortly after he had been released from jail. He was a young guy—maybe twenty—and I remember thinking that he was the palest person I had ever met. There must have been a long period when he was in prison that he had no access to sunlight.

    KW: Did you carry CPD materials in your suitcases?

    JL: Generally no. I once went to participate in a demonstration in Poland that called for the release of prisoners who were in jail under martial law. I wore a t-shirt that carried a political message—I think I still have the t-shirt—but I had taken a white t-shirt and a magic marker with me, and wrote down the message the night before. I did once bring some materials sent by the London-based Czech human rights activist Jan Kavan to dissidents in Czechoslovakia. I definitely breathed a sigh of relief once I was out of the airport carrying the books he’d asked me to bring. On one of my early trips to Poland I’d received a request from women there for books about feminism, and I brought as many as I could manage.

    I didn’t bring lists of names and phone numbers with me on these visits, of course. I’d usually have the phone number of a key contact person memorized, or partially written out in two or three different places, and it was usually someone whom the authorities were already very familiar with. They were public dissidents, and presumably known for meeting with people from outside the country. That person would then make the necessary introductions.

    KW: Would you have gone to the U.S. embassy if you’d been arrested in a country like Poland or Czechoslovakia?

    JL: Maybe.

    TH: When I met with the Trust Group people in Moscow there was an unmarked KGB truck outside the building with listening devices. You could see a couple of tall poles poking out of the truck.

    JL: I remember when I met with the activist Petr Uhl at his home in Prague. He told me to take a look out the window at the traffic light on the street corner. There was a camera placed on top of the traffic light that was pointed right at his apartment.

    TH: The repression in the Soviet Union was a lot fiercer than it was in these other countries. Dissidents were still being shipped off to mental hospitals in the 1980s in the Soviet Union, for example.

    KW: The 1991 Yale conference on “Post-Communist Futures” was held in the aftermath of the collapse of the Soviet Union and Soviet-style regimes across Central and Eastern Europe. Did the Campaign have a clear sense of what was happening, or did you think to yourselves, “Man, we are really paddling in the dark here.”

    TH: Something in-between. We knew that there were certain demands that we needed to raise—for example, we were strongly opposed to the policy of shock therapy.

    Liberal Interventionism

    JL: But we were also experiencing some arguments within the Campaign before the start of the Gulf War in 1991. Some members of the Campaign’s Board of Directors were in favor of sending hundreds of thousands of U.S. troops into the region—not necessarily to start a war, but to send the Iraq government a message. That was Noam Chomsky’s position, for example. Tom and I were unconvinced, shall we say, and we wrote an article opposing the impending war that appeared in The Progressive. On the other hand, everyone on the Board was against the war once it started, which enabled us to move on. But for a while things were a little tense.

    During the Cold War these kinds of disagreements didn’t surface, since everyone broadly agreed that they were opposed to both Washington and Moscow. But as the Cold War ended, these differences emerged. Some were willing to back some forms of U.S. military intervention—not uncritically, and not consistently, but on occasion.

    TH: An early glimmer of this kind of liberal interventionism surfaced around the issue of Bosnia in 1992-1994. The Campaign took a position in favor of lifting the arms embargo so that the Bosnians could defend themselves against Serbian aggression. But we also argued against any form of U.S. military intervention in Bosnia, whether through bombing campaigns or troops on the ground or whatever.

    KW: Tom, you wrote extensively on foreign policy questions in the 1980s and 1990s, but you were also writing about party politics. Did you feel torn between writing about domestic and international issues?

    TH: Both were interesting to me, and they were interconnected politically.

    JL: You’re not going to get a better foreign policy without a powerful movement independent of the Democratic Party.

    TH: Yes. Part of what I tried to argue in my pieces on the Democrats was the importance of formulating a new, democratic foreign policy through independent politics, by creating a new party of the left. We obviously need to open up the question of military spending and it’s not possible to do that within the current two-party system.

    JL: Some of the people who have supported the Campaign over the years are also inclined to vote for Democrats. We did not make the question of the Democratic Party a make-or-break issue for our supporters. But at the same time, Tom and I never downplayed or disguised our fundamental critique of the Democrats and our support for independent political action.

    TH: You know who was a big influence on me? Sheldon Wolin (1922-2015), along with his magazine Democracy (1980-1983). It was in large measure because of Wolin that I became inspired to write about American politics. He had a very sophisticated, radical point of view that was opposed to the two-party system and the status quo. If you look at my articles for New Politics on U.S. politics you’ll see that the tone was definitely inspired by Wolin’s essays and books. Very sarcastic, and a little bitter.

    KW: Did you take any classes with Wolin when you were at Berkeley?

    TH: No, much to my regret. I don’t know why I didn’t. Wolin had a lot to say about Reagan’s triumph in 1980, not only about the Republicans but also about the complicitous, enabling role of the Democrats and the political system as a whole. That had a big effect on my thinking. Most people don’t remember now how thoroughly traditional labor-liberalism collapsed at the end of the 1970s and the beginning of the 1980s. With Reagan’s election I thought that we had reached the bottom of the barrel.

    KW: Back to the Campaign: presumably your work attracted some fierce criticism from folks who were favorably disposed toward the Soviet Union. Were you bothered by some of the negativity?

    JL: We were most definitely disliked by pro-Soviet types, including people around the U.S. Peace Council. Mainly what we encountered was the secondary effect, however. We had to deal with activists in the peace movement who were influenced by or at least talking to pro-Soviet types. The occupational hazard of the peace movement during the Cold War was the reluctance to criticize the “other side” so as, the thinking went, not to give support to “your side.” They were not hardline CPers but many people did believe that in order to justify lower military spending you had to argue that the Soviet Union was basically a benign actor in international affairs. Luckily there were always some people who supported us and who recognized the importance of reaching out to genuine peace activists in the Soviet bloc—and in fact the numbers of such people increased over the years of our work.

    These questions are relevant to this today. Most people in the peace movement are not pro-Assad, for example, but they are reluctant to criticize the Syrian government on the grounds that if you attack Assad you must favor U.S. military intervention. There are some people in the peace movement, for example, who call for organizing delegations to visit the Russian Embassy in Washington, D.C. to thank them for agreeing to a ceasefire, rather than challenging their intervention in the first place.

    KW: Jesus, that’s idiotic.

    JL: That’s what was so useful about E.P. Thompson’s role in the 1980s in the peace movement. He very skillfully articulated a perspective of détente from below.

    TH: After the fall of Soviet Communism in the early 1990s things became a little more difficult. Many human rights and peace activists developed serious illusions about U.S. imperialism. That was a battle that had to be fought over and over again.

    JL: There were a number of people—not in the Campaign, but in the larger peace movement—who argued, with the fall of USSR, that NATO had a valuable role to play in Europe and elsewhere. For some people the idea of being opposed to U.S. military intervention on principle was a difficult pill to swallow. I remember just after Bill Clinton was elected in 1992, meeting with someone who had been a Campaign supporter in the past . CPD co-director Jennifer Scarlott[24] and I met with him to ask for further support, and he began the conversation by asking eagerly, “Does either of you have the ear of the Clinton administration?” as if that were the key question. I doubt that he would have asked about our influence with an American president during the Cold War.

    KW: Did it become harder and harder to raise money after the fall of the Soviet Union? Was this one of the reasons why the Campaign was put on hold in the mid-to-late 1990s?

    TH: That was the big reason. The Clinton years were the years of the locust so far as the Campaign was concerned. It was very hard to do anything. None of our funders were interested in the issue of Bosnia, for example. Many people felt that Serbian aggression against Bosnia had to do with age-old incorrigible ethnic hatreds, and that all sides were somehow equally aggressive and bloodthirsty. Then they looked to the Clinton administration and the UN to figure things out. They weren’t interested in an independent approach to defending Bosnia’s sovereignty and the lives of ordinary Bosnians.

    Near and Middle East

    KW: What led you to revive the Campaign in the early twenty-first century? Was it the build-up to the Iraq war?

    JL: That was definitely part of it. In 2002 we drafted a statement that made the case for opposing both Saddam Hussein and U.S. military intervention. The statement first appeared in the Nation, and then in the New York Times and elsewhere.

    KW: It’s striking how a third camp approach can be applied to both Eastern Europe in the 1980s and the Middle East in the early 21st century.

    JL: More recently we were inspired by the Arab Spring in 2011, but the problem is that pretty much everywhere—not just Syria—serious repression has been directed toward pro-democratic forces in the region. I reluctantly accept what Gilbert Achcar has argued, that the Arab Spring was the start of what is going to a long process, and that we can’t expect sustained immediate victories. But at the moment the situation is grim—there’s not only repression directed by state military forces, but also the rise of jihadists of different varieties. As a result, pro-democratic forces face at least two enemies, if not more.

    It’s also worth noting that it was much easier for people like us to meet activists in Eastern Europe and even the Soviet Union than it is in places like Iraq and Syria. The way we sorted out who was who in Eastern Europe was by going there and meeting with people. I wouldn’t feel safe visiting Iran, for example, even though at the moment there isn’t the kind of overt military conflict that’s going on in Libya or Syria.

    KW: Are you beginning to get a sense of who’s who in the Syrian opposition?

    TH: It’s murky—we don’t know much about the groups. Unlike a lot of people, we recognize that there is a civil society in Syria that is very much alive in many parts of the country. That’s a hopeful sign, but I’m not optimistic about how things will play out in the coming months and years. The better groups are getting decimated, or have made their peace with the jihadists.

    KW: Are you surprised at the scale of quasi-Stalinist support for Bashar al-Assad and the Russians within many sections of the American left?

    TH: I’m not sure if Stalinism is the best label for this. Certainly there’s a fear of radical Islam that pushes some people in the direction of strongmen like Assad—that you need a strong leader to keep the forces of Islamic extremism from gaining power.

    JL: I also think that it reflects U.S. leftists’ terrible sense of weakness—they don’t feel as if they can influence events, so they look to someone like Assad who can stand up against the Americans and the jihadists.

    TH: The collapse of the Arab Spring has paved the way for a profound sense of pessimism. So many people refuse to believe that there was anything good about the Syrian revolution. There’s a lot of cynicism about this, and people just refuse to be convinced that there are masses of ordinary people on the ground in places like Syria who are neither pro-regime, nor pro-U.S., nor jihadist.

    JL: From the outset there have been important voices on the left who have argued that Assad is an anti-imperialist leader who stands up against the United States and therefore deserves our support. And their attitude toward Syrian opponents of Assad is that these people are objectively helping U.S. imperialism. Beneath that is a larger sense of cynicism and pessimism that is very pervasive on the U.S. left.

    TH: Even before the Arab Spring there were people on the left who refused to believe that there could be authentically indigenous movements from below in the Middle East. Quite a few people, for example, argued that the Green Movement in Iran was something that the State Department had somehow organized, and this was a couple of years before the Arab Spring. The same arguments that people made against the reform movement in Iran are now being used to prop up Assad’s regime in Syria.

    JL: It was easier to make the argument, however, that the Green Movement was a mass, democratic movement—the evidence in terms of photographs of hundreds of thousands of people marching in Tehran and so forth was very difficult to overlook. The initial movement in Syria was so quickly repressed that it’s easier for these people to deny that it ever took place. The situation became militarized very quickly, which placed democratic activists in an almost impossible position. The pro-Assad forces are receiving an enormous amount of support from the Russians, whose leaders are keen to restore Russia’s status as a world power.

     

    Further Reading

    Cohen, Robert and Reginald E. Zelnick, eds. The Free Speech Movement: Reflections on Berkeley in the 1960s. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2002.

    Draper, Hal, ed. Berkeley: The Student Revolt. New York: Grove Press, 1965.

    ———. Karl Marx’s Theory of Revolution, vols. 1–5. New York: Monthly Review Press, 1977–1990.

    Drucker, Peter, Max Shachtman and His Left: A Socialist’s Odyssey Through the “American Century.” Atlantic Highlands, N.J.: Humanities Press, 1994.

    Feffer, John. “Regretting the Region’s Right Turn.” JohnFeffer.com. Last modified 23 April, 2013.

    Fisk, Milt. Socialism From Below in the United States: The Origins of the International Socialist Organization. Cleveland, OH: Hera Press, 1977.

    Fisk, Robert. “Revolution in the Teamsters.” Tikkun 8, no. 2 (March, 1993): 19–24, 71–74.

    Friedman, Michael, ed. The New Left of the Sixties. Berkeley, CA: Independent Socialist Press, 1972.

    Harrison, Thomas. “Breaking Through by Breaking Free: Why the Left Needs to Declare Its Political Independence.” In Empowering Progressive Third Parties in the United States: Defeating Duopoly, Advancing Democracy, edited by Jonathan H. Martin, New York: Routledge, 2016.

    ———. “After the Elections: Which Way for the Left?” New Politics 54 (Winter, 2013).

    ———. “Socialism and Homosexuality.” New Politics 46 (Winter, 2009).

    ———. “Obama and Empire.” New Politics 47 (Summer, 2009).

    ———. “The 2004 Elections and the Collapse of the Left.” New Politics 38 (Winter, 2005).

    ———. “The Dead-End of Lesser Evilism.” New Politics 37 (Summer, 2004).

    ———. “Only a Democratic Foreign Policy Can Combat Terrorism.” New Politics 32 (Winter, 2002).

    ———. “The Democrats: No Way To Fight the Right.” New Politics 31 (Summer, 2001).

    ———. “Election 2000: Infamy and Hope.” New Politics 30 (Winter, 2001).

    ———. “The Need for a Political Alternative to Clintonism.” New Politics 27 (Summer, 1999).

    ———. “France (1789–1794): The Mother of Revolutions.” New Politics 25 (Summer, 1998).

    ———. “The 1996 Elections: Angry Voters with Nowhere to Go.” New Politics 22 (Winter, 1997).

    ———. Review of Radical Democracy, by C. Douglas Lummis. The Nation: 50–52.

    ———. Review of Yugoslavia: Death of a Nation, by Laura Silber and Allan Little. The Nation (April 8, 1996): 37–40.

    ———. “The Empire and Left Illusions.” Against the Current 61 (March/April, 1996).

    ———. “A Cold Peace in Bosnia.” New Politics 20 (Winter, 1996): 6–12.

    ———. “Bosnia: Against Interventionism, Lift the Arms Embargo.” New Politics 17 (Summer, 1994): 3–10.

    ———. “Somalia and U.S. Imperial Policy.” New Politics 16 (Winter, 1994): 5–9.

    ———. “Intervention Won’t Achieve Our Goals.” Peace and Democracy News (Winter, 1993/1994): 1–3.

    ———. “A Question of International Solidarity.” In Why Bosnia? Writings On the Balkan War, edited by Rabia Ali and Lawrence Lifschultz. Stony Creek, CN: Pamphleteer’s Press, 1993.

    ———. “The Betrayal of Bosnia.” Z Magazine (July/August, 1993): 34–40.

    ———. “Intervention in Bosnia: The Arguments Against.” Labour Focus on Eastern Europe (May–August, 1993).

    ———. “Solidarity With Bosnia.” Peace and Democracy News (Winter, 1992/3): 1–2.

    ———. “The Gulf War and the Anti-War Movement.” Peace and Democracy News (Summer, 1991): 1–3.

    Harrison, Thomas and Joanne Landy. “The Greek Grassroots Challenge to the Politics of Austerity.” Campaign for Peace and Democracy. 2012. (accessed January 9, 2018).

    Howe, Irving. A Margin of Hope: An Intellectual Autobiography. New York: Harvest, 1984.

    Isserman, Maurice. If I Had a Hammer: The Death of the Old Left and the Birth of the New Left. New York: Basic Books, 1987.

    Landy, Joanne. “The Foreign Policies of Sanders, Trump, and Clinton: America and the World in 2016 and Beyond.” New Politics 61 (Summer, 2016).

    ———. “Ukraine Between a Rock and a Hard Place: Is There a Way Out?” New Politics 57 (Summer, 2014).

    ———. “Some Lessons of 1989’s East European Revolutions: Reflections of a U.S. Peace Activist,” New Politics 53 (Summer, 2012).

    ———. “The Change We Really Want?” New Politics 46 (Winter, 2009).

    ———. “Iraq: The Case for Immediate U.S. Withdrawal,” New Politics 37 (Summer, 2004).

    ———. “Revolution and Us.” Tikkun 5, no. 2 (March, 1990): 18–27.

    ———. “Two Steps Back: The East Chases the Worst of the West.” The Progressive (June, 1991).

    ———. “Suppose We Invade Haiti. Then What?” New York Times (op-ed), August 7, 1994.

    ———. “A New Goal for the Peace Movement.” New York Times (op-ed), December 25, 1988.

    ———. “The Polish Regime Calls It Justice.” New York Times (op-ed), June 15, 1985.

    ———. “Let U.N. Assembly Elect Security Council.” New York Times (letter), December 24, 1992.

    Landy, Joanne and Oliver Fein. “We Can Do It! The Case for Single Payer National Health Insurance.” New Politics 45 (Summer, 2008).

    Landy, Joanne and Jennifer Scarlott. “Democratic Movements Can Force Disarmament.” The Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists 48, no. 4 (May, 1992).

    Morton, Brian and Joanne Landy, “East European Activists Test Glasnost,” Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists 44, no. 4 (May, 1988): 18–26.

    Polish Video Tribute to Joanne Landy, New Politics (last modified July 1, 2017).

    Worcester, Kent. “From the Sixties to the Present: An Interview with Lisa Lyons.” In Silent Agitators: Cartoon Art From the Pages of New Politics, edited by Kent Worcester, 96–101. New York: New Politics, 2016.

    ———. “Third Camp Politics: An Interview with Julius and Phyllis Jacobson.” Left History 18, no. 1 (Spring/Summer, 2014): 39–60.

     


    [1]Statement of Purpose,” Campaign for Peace and Democracy, accessed on January 9, 2018.

    [2]Highlights of CPD Initiatives, 2002–2013,” Campaign for Peace and Democracy, accessed on January 10, 2018.

    [3] Key sources on the history of the Shachtmanite current include Peter Drucker, Max Shachtman and His Left: A Socialist’s Odyssey Through the “American Century” (Atlantic Highlands, N.J.: Humanities Press, 1994); Irving Howe, A Margin of Hope: An Intellectual Autobiography (New York: Harvest, 1984); and Maurice Isserman, If I Had a Hammer: The Death of the Old Left and the Birth of the New Left (New York: Basic Books, 1987).

    [4] On the Berkeley Free Speech Movement, see Robert Cohen and Reginald E. Zelnick, eds., The Free Speech Movement: Reflections on Berkeley in the 1960s (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2002), and Hal Draper, ed., Berkeley: The Student Revolt (New York: Grove Press, 1965).

    [5] Kent Worcester, “Third Camp Politics: An Interview with Phyllis and Julius Jacobson,” Left History 18, no. 1 (2014): 39–60.

    [6] Seymour Landy (1931–2007) was a Marxist writer and activist. He was a member of the Independent Socialist Clubs (ISC) and the International Socialists (IS) in the 1960s and early 1970s, before breaking with the IS in 1973. He subsequently cofounded the League for the Revolutionary Party in 1976.

    [7] Max Shachtman (1904–1972) was a leading Trotskyist before he split with the movement in 1939–1940. He cofounded the Workers Party (1940–1947) and its successor organization, the Independent Socialist League (1947–1958). His books include Behind the Moscow Trial (1936) and The Bureaucratic Revolution: The Rise of the Stalinist State (1962).

    [8] Deborah Meier is a longtime educator and a leading advocate for the small schools movement. Her books include In Schools We Trust (2002) and Many Children Left Behind (2004).

    [9] George Rawick (1929–1990) was a historian whose works include From Sundown to Sunup (1971) and Listening to Revolt: The Selected Writings of George Rawick (2010). He edited the 41-volume set of oral histories of former slaves, The American Slave: A Composite Autobiography (1971–1979).

    [10] Mike Parker is a veteran labor activist. His books include Inside the Circle: A Union Guide to QWL (1986) and Choosing Sides: Unions and the Team Concept (1988, with Jane Slaughter). He is currently active with the Richmond Progressive Alliance in California.

    [11] Joel Geier is an associate editor of the International Socialist Review (ISR). His coauthored response to Martin Smith’s “Talkin’ ‘bout a Working-Class Revolution” appeared in Left History in 2013. See Candace Cohn et al., “Response to Martin Smith’s ‘Talkin’ about a Working-Class Revolution’: Not the IS, Not in Our Name,” Left History 17, no. 2 (2013): 137–156.

    [12] Sam Farber is a Cuban-born socialist. His books include Revolution and Reaction in Cuba, 1933-1960 (1976), Before Stalinism: The Rise and Fall of Soviet Democracy (1990), and The Origins of the Cuban Revolution Reconsidered (2007).

    [13] Mike Shute’s essay “For an Independent Campaign against Brown and Reagan, and the Building of a New Party” was circulated by the ISC in 1966.

    [14] Lisa Lyons is a longtime socialist-feminist cartoonist. She creates cover art and interior illustrations for the semiannual journal New Politics.

    [15] Hal Draper (1914–1990) was a writer and socialist activist. His essay “The Two Souls of Socialism” (1966) is a classic of socialist thought. His books include Berkeley: The New Student Revolt (1965), Karl Marx’s Theory of Revolution, Vols. 1–5 (1977–1990), and War and Revolution: Lenin and the Myth of Revolutionary Defeatism (1996).

    [16] Ernest E. Haberkern is a member of the Board of Directors of the Center for Socialist History and the coeditor, with Arthur Lipow, of Neither Capitalism nor Socialism: Theories of Bureaucratic Collectivism (1996).

    [17] Jack Weinberg is a longtime labor and environmental activist. He was held in a police car for 32 hours for sitting at a Congress of Racial Equality table and not showing a student ID. Three thousand people surrounded the police car, and the FSM was launched.

    [18] Phyllis Jacobson (1922–2010) and Julius Jacobson (1922–2003) co-founded New Politics in 1961 and served as co-editors until 2002. Their co-edited book Socialist Perspectives was published in 1983. Julius Jacobson also edited The Negro and the American Labor Movement (1968), and Soviet Communism and the Socialist Vision (1972).

    [19] Robert Avakian is a former Free Speech Movement activist and Chairman of the Revolutionary Communist Party (RCP).

    [20] Nelson Lichtenstein is a professor of history at the University of California at Santa Barbara and director of the Center for the Study of Work, Labor and Democracy. His books include Walter Reuther: The Most Dangerous Man in America (1997), State of the Union (2002), and The Retail Revolution: How Wal-Mart Created a Brave New World of Business (2009).

    [21] Lois Weiner is a professor of education at New Jersey City University and a member of the New Politics editorial board. Her books include Urban Teaching: The Essentials (2006) and The Future of Our Schools (2012).

    [22] ANSWER (“Act Now to Stop War and End Racism”) is a U.S.-based coalition that was founded by members and supporters of the Workers World Party shortly after 9/11. The group maintains a self-consciously “anti-imperialist” stance and continues to organize rallies and demonstrations against different aspects of U.S. and Israeli foreign policy. Both the Workers World Party and ANSWER are loath to criticize authoritarian regimes that are in conflict with the United States and its allies. See Answer Coalition; and David Corn, “Behind the Placards,” LA Weekly, October 30, 2002, both accessed on January 9, 2018.

    [23] Arthur Lipow’s (1935–2016) books include Authoritarian Socialism in America: Edward Bellamy and the Nationalist Movement (1982) and Political Parties and Democracy: Explorations in History and Theory (1996).

    [24] Jennifer Scarlott was a co-director of the Campaign for Peace and Democracy, as well as an editor and contributor to CPD’s Peace and Democracy News, from 1990 to 1998. She currently serves as Coordinator of two grassroots organizations in the Bronx—Bronx Climate Justice North and North Bronx Racial Justice.

     

  • Siege and Resistance in Gaza: An Interview with Toufic Haddad

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    For more than 10 weeks, Palestinians have gathered in protest every Friday at the Israeli-Gaza Strip buffer zone, located in the perimeter of the 1949 armistice lines. Called by organisers the Great March of Return, the mobilisations have demanded an end to the crippling Western state-Israeli economic and political blockade of the Gaza Strip and that families expelled for generations from their homelands be allowed to return.

    In response, the Israeli military has unleashed waves of violence on unarmed demonstrators. At least 110 have been killed and more than 12,000 wounded since the protests began on 30 March, the bloodiest day occurring at demonstrations on 14 May commemorating the Nakba (catastrophe), the original ethnic cleansing of Palestinians in 1948, when the state of Israel was formed.

    Toufic Haddad, an activist, academic and author of Palestine Ltd: Neoliberalism and Nationalism in the Occupied Territory, spoke to Omar Hassan about the meaning of the protests – and what next in the struggle for the liberation of Palestine.

    WHAT IS THE BACKGROUND TO THE PROTESTS?

    The regime of control Israel imposes over Gaza is unprecedented globally, some academics calling it a “digital occupation”. Remote control machine guns and drones monitor and police this tiny territory, which is 360 square kilometres, while Gaza’s access regime is so sophisticated that Israel counts every calorie and controls every chemical compound that enters the territory.

    It would be imprecise, however, to reduce the protests to purely humanitarian questions. Gaza has been under siege because the international community and Israel want to prevent an alternative political model emerging within Palestinian politics. Hamas has led this alternative political project, and could again legitimately take power if elections took place.

    But the issue is far larger than Hamas.

    The Gaza Strip exists only because of the 1948 war. It is a rump territory where the victims of the Zionist campaign to ethnically cleanse Palestine ended up. Three-quarters of residents are refugees originating from the coastal and southern regions of Palestine. This is, demographically, the reverse of the West Bank, where refugees constitute only a quarter of the population.

    The collective experience of displacement and harsh living conditions transformed Gaza into the crucible of Palestinian nationalism and the refugee return movement. The territory gave birth to the most significant vanguard political tendencies – from the Communist Party in the 1950s and 1960s, to Fatah in the late 1960s and Hamas and Islamic Jihad more recently.

    The protests are the latest incarnation of these dynamics. We are witnessing yet another popular uprising launched around all the historical issues of the Palestinian movement (for return, self-determination, liberation etc.), and seeing all the new means that Israel and the international “community” have used to try to control and subvert Palestinian rights.

    There is yet another important factor. Hamas, which won the 2006 elections [for the Palestinian Legislative Council] and attempted to reform the Palestinian national movement through the Palestinian Authority’s state-like institutions, eventually concluded that Gaza is ungovernable within existing constraints.

    Self-governance – the crowning achievement of the Oslo Accords signed in the 1990s – became a way to alleviate Israel from the most “burdensome” elements of its occupation, while leaving it in ultimate control.

    Hamas is abandoning civil governance and service provision because it understands, correctly, that it is a trap. The Palestinian Authority cannot manage Gaza and its contradictions without sovereignty and freedom of movement and goods.

    When we add that the Fatah government in Ramallah, in the occupied West Bank, has cut spending on Gaza in recent years to pressure Hamas, we see that the protests are both a popular rejection of the occupation, the siege and the political crisis of Palestinian politics, and a way for Hamas to kick the “problem” of Gaza back to its rightful place – Israel and the international community, which are the main parties responsible for the perpetuation of the problem of Palestine for 70 years.

    WHO IS LEADING THE NEW MOVEMENT?

    With Hamas’ decision to abstain from governance, the path was opened for popular forces, and particularly a younger generation of activists, to take the initiative and see what could be done to change the situation.

    Having said this, the traditional structures of the Palestinian national movement – the Palestine Liberation Organisation factions, and Hamas and Islamic Jihad – have gathered around the new mobilisations and their organic leadership to form the Higher Committee for the Great March of Return, which oversees the movement and protests. So it is a combination of new and old actors, experimenting with new and old tactics.

    Hamas is still the dominant political player in Gaza, and its ability to mobilise forces is unmatched there. Its decision to abstain from governance essentially green-lighted its members to join popular mobilisations, providing numerical and logistical weight. This should not be confused with Hamas being the organisers of the demonstrations. Hamas is an organic actor in Gaza, and it is and will be a part of any mobilisation against the occupation there – whether it initiates these movements or follows them.

    The base of the movement comprises what can be termed “the Oslo generation”. These are youth, mainly up to 30 years old, who grew up in Gaza during the Oslo years, who have never left the Gaza Strip and had minimal opportunities for a decent living.

    Remember that Oslo was a cover for Israel to implement apartheid. Israel used the peace process to impose “closure” on the West Bank and Gaza to pen Palestinians in, particularly Gaza residents, and to take their lands.

    The majority of Gaza’s workers used to work inside the Israeli labour market, and almost everyone was thrown out of work and imprisoned in the economically unsustainable Gaza Strip because of “peace”. A fence was built to hermetically seal the area in 1995 – at the height of the peace process – seven years before Israel built its apartheid wall across the West Bank.

    So youth in Gaza have grown up isolated from the rest of the world, without opportunities for normal living, with a historical understanding of their refugee status and its causes and with the dashed hopes of the peace process.

    Their parents would have witnessed or participated in the first (1987) Intifada (uprising), but have since witnessed the drastic deterioration of life quality because of the “peace process”. These older people have also been protesting because the siege means that they cannot take care of their families; it is crushing new and old generations alike.

    An Arabic news correspondent went to the buffer zone where the demonstrations were taking place and interviewed an elderly woman there. He joked that most women of her generation would be at home making bread, and asked her what she was doing. With cold resolve, she responded, “My husband has been killed, two of my sons have been killed, another is in a wheelchair, and I don’t care if a bullet hits me through the forehead”.

    People feel they have little to lose. Non-action is a form of certain slow death. Under these conditions, why not risk an active/fast death if there is at least a chance something can change?

    PROTESTS IN THE WEST BANK SEEM TO HAVE BEEN MORE SUBDUED. IS THERE A REASON FOR THIS?

    Israel has different interests in different parts of historic Palestine and therefore implements different strategies to realise its goals.

    Gaza is the most intense of the theatres because it is the least important for Zionist aspirations. Gaza is the territory that former Israeli prime minister Yitzhak Rabin – the Nobel Peace Prize winner – wished would “sink into the sea”.

    But the West Bank is different. Israel has key strategic interests there: the territory is much larger and contains strategic high grounds, important water reserves and the historical sites important for the Zionist movement to assert its mythology of “returning the Jewish people to the land of Israel”.

    This is why Israel used the peace process to “separate” from the Palestinians across the 1967 occupied territory, while investing in massive colony construction projects in the West Bank, tripling the number of settlers since 1993. Israel aims to annex these territories, uniting the conquests of 1948 with those of 1967.

    In more recent times Israel and the Western states have tried to make the West Bank seem more prosperous compared to Gaza, to lessen the anti-Oslo political tendency manifested most coherently in Hamas.

    The West Bank was given a carrot while Gaza was given the stick. But the logic of the arrangement was aimed at getting Palestinians to believe that resistance was futile. While there were nominal improvements to economic conditions in the West Bank after 2007, the situation remains unstable. In recent years, economic conditions have worsened, and there is a no less brutal occupation regime, albeit administered differently.

    The West Bank is also more difficult to organise. Israel is on the ground there and daily enters Palestinian cities and towns to conduct arrest campaigns. This does not happen in Gaza, which helps resistance experience and leadership to accumulate.

    Israel holds around 7,000 Palestinian prisoners; the overwhelming majority of these are the political leadership of the West Bank. If they could organise, the West Bank would look different. Israel well understands this.

    On top of this is the dynamic of Fatah, and in particular the majority branch of the party, which is loyal to Abu Mazen [Palestinian president Mahmoud Abbas] and nominally in control of Palestinian governance in the West Bank.

    As far as Fatah is concerned, the Palestinians have paid the price of armed resistance (winning recognition through it) while Palestinians should avoid a damaging frontal confrontation with Israel. Fatah believes this strategy will ultimately defeat Zionist ambitions because, if Palestinians survive and remain in Palestine, organised as self-identifying Palestinians, they will remain “the non-Jews” within the “Jewish democratic state” from an Israeli perspective. Fatah believes that this contradiction will eventually force either statehood or the collapse of Zionism.

    So the Palestinian Authority and Fatah in the West Bank are not interested in a popular mobilisation that could threaten their hold on power and displace their claim to be the sole legitimate representative of the Palestinian struggle. They are interested in the status quo and demobilisation. Thus, a debilitating, divided situation prevails across the Palestinian political sphere and within the West Bank in particular.

    WHERE DO YOU SEE THE PALESTINIAN MOVEMENT IN THE BROADER CONTEXT OF MIDDLE EASTERN POLITICS?

    Historically, Palestine has been touted as the “cause of the Arabs”. But it’s been obvious to most that this hasn’t been the case for decades, if it ever was. Palestinians have been left to their own fate, especially after Oslo. With the Arab uprisings of 2010-11, the limited support the cause received further deteriorated in light of local revolutionary dynamics becoming more important.

    The Palestinian movement was fracturing internally around the same time, between the West Bank and Gaza, which created a crisis of representation and leadership. Popular forces across the Arab world remain in solidarity with Palestine. However, this solidarity cannot actualise in a context marked by the extreme counter-revolutionary forces and dynamics unleashed.

    The counter-revolutionary waves unleashed have understandably preoccupied Arab revolutionary actors, further isolating the Palestinian theatre from its natural periphery. But this is temporary; it will not last indefinitely. Eventually revolutionary dynamics will reignite across the region because the old regimes have no answers to the questions the revolutions posed.

    Meanwhile, we are witnessing unprecedented Arab state collusion with Israel – represented most vividly in Saudi-Israeli rapprochement, but also unprecedented Egyptian-Israeli collusion. Egypt has even invited Israel to bomb the Sinai with its fleet of drones to squelch the local opposition movements there.

    The Arab states seek to team up with Israel and the Trump administration to counter Iran – but also any perceived local opposition to their rule. These dynamics are debilitating for the Arab revolutionary currents, particularly without a larger progressive movement and network to sustain it.

    The Middle East and Palestine feature within a central axis of world trade, energy and political conflicts. This means that any genuine democratic forces in the area must counter a substantial number of reactionary elements of the world order, with their local manifestation. The stakes in this respect couldn’t be higher.

    ———-

    A longer version of this edited transcript will be published in the forthcoming Marxist Left Review.

    Originally posted at Red Flag.

  • The Movement-Building Potential of Socialist Electoral Victories

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    On June 26th, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez defeated, against all odds, the incumbent Congressman from New York’s 14th district, a safe Democratic seat, in the party’s primary. Spectacular as it was to see a Democratic political boss (the “King of Queens”) humbled by a left-wing challenger, the real spoils of this victory do not lie in the House seat itself.

    Realistically, her position to impact policy on the national level is not particularly favorable. As a socialist, Ocasio-Cortez will be isolated in Congress. Most of her colleagues, Republican or Democrat, are opportunists, conservatives, or plain reactionaries. Even among the “progressives” of the House, she is singular in her political consciousness and independence from the Democratic Party’s institutional checks on meaningful political action. Her presence in Congress has powerful symbolism, yet her actual influence will be hampered by the sheer inertia of most of her fellow Democrats.

    Democrats who don’t belong to the party’s left-leaning camp are aware of the rising tide of discontent among their base and rank and file. Of course, some, like Tammy Duckworth, will go to their grave denying anything like mass support for leftist policies exists anywhere outside of New York city.  Many others who do change their rhetoric a little cannot be trusted. They will never throw away the network of deals and social connections that underlie their power (and their future enrichment) for a meaningful reformist program.

    With this victory, we need to reflect on the relationship between elections and the aims and development of our movement. Electoral gains must translate into a new political and social movement capable of not just advocating reforms but fighting for them through social mobilization. It cannot be another political party amongst others but must embody, through the ties it fosters among its members, social principles fundamentally opposed to those of bourgeois society.

    Socialism right now speaks to people in the language of reforms, to which they respond positively. The experience of everyday life under capitalism produces approval among working people for policies like Medicare for All and fully funded public education, while the current political conjuncture is one of a mass rejection of the “mainstream”. When a socialist campaigns well on a reformist platform against an incumbent who could only maintain power through political apathy, it is only a matter of tapping into an already formed social mood.

    This formula will most likely produce several further victories.  However, the interest of the electorate in socialism may be brief, if it is not substantiated by a consolidation of socialist consciousness at the grassroots. If the Democrats keep at their usual cynicism, rhetorically moving to the left yet doing nothing, then public opinion which favored progressive reforms will grow apathetic.

    Socialists Cannot Ignore Electoral Politics

    The centrality of electoral contests to American politics means that when it comes to building a socialist movement in the United States, there is no option but to take part in them. The Bolsheviks could seriously debate whether to participate in or boycott the State Duma formed after the 1905 Revolution. We cannot. The Duma was a concession from the Tsar to the workers and peasants after the near collapse of his rule. This was very clear to the conscious, revolutionary working class which organized the Soviets. Thus, the Bolsheviks could contemplate whether it would be a better strategy to exploit the limited freedom the Duma provided for agitational purposes or to reject it as a diversion from the complete eradication of Tsarism.

    In the United States, on the other hand, elections are the sole realm of politics for a large depoliticized mass of the population. For many, the strict separation of politics from the rest of social life is only broken through by the electoral horse race. An election is a ritual which suddenly interrupts normal daily life and gives people the chance to participate in an act of consequence. Even non-voters, those totally apathetic, are suddenly woken up by the media’s continuous coverage of the characters, plots, and scenarios of any good electoral season (especially when the presidency is at stake).

    When people are possessed by the simultaneous sense of importance and excitement which an election brings, they start to consider what they want from politicians. Personal needs normally pursued through individualized strategies dependent on institutions beyond anyone’s control are elevated to political questions.  In that moment a more radical political perspective has the potential to form. That Bernie Sanders’ campaign was so instrumental for a sudden reawakening of the left in the past year and half is proof enough.

    Building From Electoral Victories

    The real prize of June 26th was not the position Ocasio-Cortez won, but the bond she formed with the electorate. That bond was forged by the efforts of grassroots campaigners, from the DSA and other groups, who went out into the neighborhoods of the Bronx and Queens and presented socialism, in the form of Ocasio-Cortez’s program, to the residents. Her victory solidified that bond, by confirming to each atomized voter, unaware of the choices of the other 26,657 voting in that election, that their individual act was part of a greater collective one. Unconsciously, the ballots they cast transformed them overnight from protest voters supporting a long shot candidate into a potential left-wing base. When Ocasio-Cortez volunteers descended upon the 14th district, they were not merely winning votes. They were planting the seeds of a socialist movement.

    National Nurses United members and supporters march for single-payer health care. Photo: Michael Nigro /Sipa.

    Now once the bond has been formed, a new struggle begins. In areas where socialist candidates, like Ocasio-Cortez, win or have the potential to win elections, there must be a concentrated effort to turn the progressive electorate into something more than an electorate. For socialism to have a real base, it needs to go beyond just appealing to voters with popular reforms. Many liberals will now try to stave off the threat to their power by adopting the same slogans. What needs to happen is a shift in the consciousness of the Ocasio-Cortez voter from support for certain programmatic points to identification with a socialist movement.

    It should be emphasized that community members attracted to a left-wing message are not blank slates. They possess the characteristics of the working class– that they are employed in socialized production, paid wages, and work for someone else’s gain– as well as the characteristics of the urban masses more broadly–that they share their extended communal living space with many others, rent their homes, and are dependent upon municipal agencies for many of their everyday concerns. The social position of the urban working class means that socialism, once they have grasped it as a worldview, is not an abstract construct but a form of self-knowledge.

    Socialist Organizations Rooted in Communities

    Socialist organizations should strive to build organic links with working people in their communities. Socialists need to prove themselves to be popular champions not just at the national level, where their influence is still minimal, but in the thousand little struggles – with employers, landlords, administrators etc. – which constitute daily life in a capitalist society. When socialists organize in participatory struggles, we create the basis for working-class people to learn that their interests are not best served by picking now and then from a set of declared programs, but by organizing themselves into a movement which wages a constant fight for their betterment.

    Henry Street Settlement Collection, Social Welfare Archives, University of Minnesota

    The question of how the attraction of a reformist program can be transformed into participation in a socialist movement is one whose real substance can only be answered through practice; but certain speculative points can be made. The instruments of this effort should be grassroots level organizations. Efforts should be made to organize committees at the level of neighborhoods and even streets or housing blocs. These committees should focus as widely as possible on bringing in people who are attracted to a left-wing candidate’s reformist programs, and who are willing to mobilize, not merely vote, for it.

    Mobilization must be accompanied by efforts to raise the political understanding of these participants. This should be a gradual process done in a conscientious, empowering way. The fundamental antagonism between working people and the ruling class needs to be communicated through the way in which political goals, which are still reformist in nature, are framed. Class identity can be built through the solidarity of participation in a political struggle, the activity, duty, and responsibility which comes with that struggle, and the knowledge of that struggle’s relationship with the larger clash of class forces.

    Theory must come in conjunction with political practice. Marxism as “a unity of theory and practice” is not just a nice sounding slogan but expresses the truth that reading State and Revolution cannot substitute for real activism; but at the same time activism must facilitate a robust socialist perspective which requires a steady assimilation of theory. The key lesson is not simply the working class coming to understand its static position within capitalist society, but its dynamic role as the agent of a socialist revolution.  The goal of socialist organizing is to create a working-class movement united by solidarity, cooperation, and egalitarianism, driven by the political initiative of workers as conscious participants in a struggle to abolish classes and other oppressive social distinctions. In this form, the proletariat becomes a ruling class in waiting, the embryo of a socialist society.

    The propositions above are schematic. They are not so much guidelines as attempts to grasp the sudden opportunity presented before us by the leftward electoral shift we are observing. My purpose has been to try to relate the present situation to the broader aims of our movement. The two alternatives, of being scornful of electoral success because it isn’t “revolutionary” enough or of being so intoxicated with sudden electoral victories that the fundamental task of organizing for socialism is forgotten, are both one-sided.

    If there is one thing I want the reader to take away it is this: only when socialism becomes part of the consciousness of working people, when socialist organizations become interwoven with the social fabric of their communities, when a socialist party forms a durable bond with them, can we really speak of success. If electoral momentum is utilized in the proper way, elections can win us more than seats in congress. They can win us a movement.

    Originally posted on the Solidarity website. 

  • The Rebirth of Social Democracy in the U.S.

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    The Democratic Socialists of America (DSA) has emerged as the largest socialist organization in the United States since the collapse of the Communist Party (CP) in the mid-1950s. While Bernie Sanders’ ‘democratic socialist’ campaign for president in 2016 laid much of the groundwork for DSA’s growth, it was Donald Trump’s election to the presidency that boosted its membership from 6,700 in 2016 to around 48,000 members today.

    There is simply no other organization on the U.S. Left that can claim such membership numbers. DSA has given some form and structure to the growing radicalization of a new generation of young people after being quite formless for some time. Reflecting the influx of new, younger people, DSA’s average median age has dramatically changed from sixty-eight years old in 2013 to thirty-three today.

    It is a younger, vibrant, and more confident organization, no longer a political retirement home for an older generation.

    A Political Transformation

    The influx of young radicals has also led to a dramatic political transformation of the group. At their 2017 convention, DSA passed a series of resolutions in support of the Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions (BDS) movement against Israeli apartheid, Black Lives Matter, prison abolition, and also voted to leave the right-wing Socialist International (SI). A complete list of DSA conventions resolutions that passed or failed is available here. These are some of the key issues that have shaped the new radicalization.

    This is what makes the emergence of DSA so important. It is an explicitly socialist, anti-capitalist organization at the beginning phase of a period of radicalization, not at the end, like in the 1960s and 1970s. As the authors of the DSA document, Resistance Rising: Socialist Strategy in the Age of Political Revolution, put it in 2016, before their explosive growth:

    Despite these challenges, once in a generation opportunities currently exist for taking the offensive and launching an assertive anti-capitalist politics in the United States.

    Contradictions, however, also abound in the current DSA. It voted to leave the SI because of the latter’s support for imperialism and austerity, but meanwhile DSA remains supportive of Bernie Sanders’s campaign to transform the Democratic Party, a party of imperialism and austerity. Socialism still needs to separate itself from liberalism in the U.S.

    Many DSAers, at the same time, are very critical of the Democrats and are supportive of independent socialist/Green party campaigns like Jabari Brisport’s recent campaign for city council in New York. While still others wish to use the Democrats’ ballot line for their own purposes; something that I personally believe is an untenable political position. It creates enormous confusion about what the socialist project in the U.S. is. Are you a socialist or a Democrat? Are you building the Democratic Party or not? If you are ‘using’ the ballot line, doesn’t that make you vulnerable to accusations of dishonesty?

    Several DSAers won election to public office last November, including Lee Carter in Virginia who won an inspiring victory over Jackson Miller, the Republican majority whip in the Virginia House of Delegates. Carter won despite being abandoned by the state Democratic Party. Since then he has faced redbaiting from his fellow Democratic Party colleagues.

    Nevertheless, the transformation of DSA has been extraordinary. Delegates to their 2017 convention elected a new National Political Committee, with few holdovers from the previous leadership, made up of young people, including former International Socialist Organization member Delé Balogun. DSA is not your grandfather’s old Cold War Social Democratic grouping anymore. Let me explain.

    State Department ‘Socialism’

    Throughout the Cold War (1948 to 1989), the socialist, social democratic, and labour parties around the world were allied with US imperialism against the USSR. While not uncritical of certain aspects of US foreign policy, even the tiny, moribund Socialist Party of America led by Norman Thomas, was motivated by “anti-Communism” to support the United States in its battle against the USSR for global influence from the late 1940s to the early 1970s. Revealingly, Thomas was a friend of the notorious CIA Director Allen Dulles, who toppled nationalist and progressive governments around the world.

    This State Department ‘socialism,’ as it was derisively called, led to disastrous results at home and abroad. Leading Socialist Party activists like Tom Kahn, along with former CP leader Jay Lovestone, played major roles in keeping the AFL-CIO allied with US imperialism while directing their fire at critics of US foreign policy. The Students for a Democratic Society (SDS) and many other New Left organizations that wanted to break out of the Cold War consensus and opposed the Vietnam War were attacked by Norman Thomas and DSA co-founder Michael Harrington. Such reactionary political positions ensured that the 1960s passed them by.

    Michael Harrington later regretted the scorn he heaped on the New Left. Harrington was the best-known socialist in the United States in the 1960s after the publication of his best-selling book, The Other America, an exposé of widespread poverty in affluent America. In 1973, Harrington founded the Democratic Socialist Organization Committee (DSOC), following the crack-up of the Socialist Party in the early 1970s, largely over issues related to the Vietnam War.

    DSOC took more critical positions on US foreign policy. It played a major role in organizing a national demonstration against registration and the draft, part of President Jimmy Carter’s ramping up of Cold War hostility towards the USSR. This was the first demonstration I went to in Washington, DC. I reminded Joe Schwartz, a Harrington protégé and the only holdover from DSA’s old National Political Committee, not too long ago that the hundreds of posters that DSOC produced for the demonstration were supposed to say “Apocalypse Never”—but they spelled apocalypse wrong.

    In 1982, DSOC merged with the New America Movement (NAM), a group with more radical roots in the New Left, that created DSA. NAM’s best known figures were the popular writer Barbara Ehrenreich and the erratic intellectual Stanley Aronowitz. While Harrington and Ehrenreich were elected co-chairs of the newly founded DSA, it was Harrington’s ideas and strategy that dominated the group. He argued for a “left-wing of the possible” that easily fit inside the existing liberal wing of the Democratic Party and supported Israel, a continuation of a long tradition of Labor/Socialist Zionism in the United States.

    Several of us have critiqued Harrington’s politics from the standpoint of revolutionary socialism. Paul Heideman did an exhaustive critique of the “realignment” politics that Harrington’s politics are derivative of, here. I took a stab at it, hereJacobin editor Bhaskar Sunkara and I had an exchange of views on the legacy of Harrington in Socialist Workerherehere, and here. My full take on Harrington’s life and legacy is also available, here.

    There’s no one more surprised by DSA’s rapid transformation than myself. Michael Harrington was the first socialist I read. He convinced me to be a socialist. It was the right-turn of the Carter presidency, however, that drew me to the politics of the International Socialist Organization. When Harrington died in 1989, I wondered at that point if the DSA would survive since it was so identified with him. I had stopped paying attention to them years before then. During the course of the long, difficult decades during the 1980s and 1990s, and well into the 2000s, DSA simply dropped off the map for me. They seemed irrelevant.

    What does DSA’s transformation mean for the future of the US socialist movement?

    Rebuilding a Socialist Movement in the US

    Much of my thinking on the question of socialist organization today has been influenced by Scottish Marxist and Haymarket Books author Neil Davidson. Please pardon the long quote from Neil:

    I suspect that the reality or possibility of left-wing leadership is only one of the reasons why the option of joining Social Democratic parties has begun to look like an attractive proposition. The other is the failure of anyone, anywhere, to successfully build a mass revolutionary party since 1968, through a variety of different periods and situations. Given this failure, it is understandable that some socialists have begun to regard it as impossible, and to draw organizational conclusions. I think that conclusion about revolutionary parties is wrong and stems from the conflation of two separate issues: one is the need for revolutionaries to operate together in a common interventionist organisation and the other is the construction of a mass revolutionary party. The problem, in my view, is that while the first is possible, the experience of the last half century suggests that the latter is not, outside of a revolutionary situation, and imagining that it is has led to some of the difficulties we currently face. I am not opposed to in principle to joining the Labour Party provided revolutionaries who do so can be open about their politics, but until we resolve the central issue of revolutionary organisation, this can only be a tactical issue.

    I broadly agree with Neil’s major points. I would even extend the failure to build successful revolutionary parties back to the 1930s. But Neil is mostly discussing the question of revolutionaries operating inside the British Labour Party. In the United States, I think we are in a different place. We face even greater difficulties than European socialists that are deeply rooted in American history and society. Fashionable or just plain lazy proclamations that we need a “Syriza” or a “Podemos” discounts the obvious and important difference in the political traditions in the US working class. To name a few:

    1. Socialist and communist militants were physically removed from the working class during the late 1940s and 1950s.
    2. The socialist tradition is very weak, and still marginal despite the Sanders’ campaign and the growth of DSA.
    3. The US political system is weighed heavily against dissenting or third parties.

    First, I think we need to answer one big question: What type of political organization are we trying to build? I believe that we need to stand for creating a new multi-tendency socialist party. If we live in a new Gilded Age of capitalism, we are certainly back to the beginning in creating a socialist movement.

    We are starting from scratch, literally. Did the Sanders’ campaign demonstrate the possibility of building a new socialist party even if it was refracted through the distorted prism of the Democratic Party? Yes. Does DSA provide us with the kernel of a new socialist party? It might. I also find it hard to conceive of any revolutionary party emerging in this country outside of a broader, working class-based socialist party. Some people might respond to this by arguing that it’s pure speculation or a dangerous leap. Is arguing for a revolutionary party in the here and now more realistic or practical? I don’t think so. But what are we defending? Staying on the margins of politics for another generation?

    There are, of course, many important areas of common political work. These are my suggestions. Joint Anti-War/Pro-Palestine campaigning also has the added urgency of pushing the Zombie Stalinists out of the niche they have created for themselves. For example, as Vermont-based socialist and anti-war campaigner, Ashley Smith, wrote a few years ago: “Even in the early stages of the Syrian uprising, when it was plainly following the inspiration of the popular revolts in Tunisia and Egypt, Stalinist groups like the Workers World Party, Party for Socialism and Liberation, and Freedom Road Socialist Organization never wavered in their support for the Assad regime. They have always preached uncritical support for opponents (perceived or real) of the U.S. government, no matter how oppressive and reactionary.”

    We will not have an effective Anti-War movement as long as they are allowed to spread their poison. DSA’s statements on the bombing of Syria, Afghanistan, and on the case of Ahed Tamini are very good and available, herehere, and here. The DSA’s extraordinary gesture to Ahed is fantastic:

    We unequivocally stand in solidarity with Ahed Tamimi and all those struggling for the liberation of the Palestinian people in Occupied Palestine. We also stand with the 63 Israeli youth who recently wrote a letter saying they won’t serve in the IDF. We recognize our government’s active collaboration with the occupation and oppression of the Palestinian people and we are against it, as evidenced by DSA’s 2017 national convention passing a resolution in support of the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions movement.

    Should she be released and allowed to travel to the United States, we would be honoured to co-sponsor an event at which Ahed and her family of leaders speak. We encourage all members to follow Ahed’s story and continue with our organization’s efforts to support the BDS movement.

    What I am saying is the reborn DSA—or the next political formation that arises that will share similarities to it—provides the opportunity to create a large socialist organization, even an embryonic party in the United States. That appears to me to be a once in a lifetime opportunity. To even begin to address the enormity of crisis before revolutionaries we have to be prepared to take serious risks to break out of the political margins. Whether it is with the current DSA or another similar organization down the road, this question will not go away, but will become more pressing at each time.

    Originally posted at New Socialist

  • Taking Some Distance from Dan La Botz's Demurrer of the DSA Endorsement for Cynthia Nixon

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    Dan's sober and sobering comment on why he opposed an endorsement by DSA of the Cynthia Nixon campaign to dethrone Andrew Cuomo, New York's corporate deny-the-corporate-class-nothing's two-term governor [see "Why I voted Against Endorsing Cynthia Nixon"] is sharply and smartly posed. It deserves a similar if brief reply, one crafted in what I hope encapsulates the same spirit. 

    I was one of the more than 70 percent of the Lower Manhattan DSA branch members who agreed that endorsements for Cynthia Nixon and Jamaane Williams were at bottom necessary. The debate in the branch, like the exchange Dan relates, was among the most comradely and constructive of any I've taken part of in my many years on the left, and the wisdom of making the case coherently — pro or con — is reflected well in Dan's demurrer, too, though his insistence that Nixon be a DSA member to qualify for endorsement is the only serious misstep in his perspective. Asking candidates to declare as socialists is one thing; insisting they join our own organization as a precondition is at best premature if not eerily sect-like. Know that were the lesser Cuomo even a tad less of a corporate tool, I'd be siding with Dan and his otherwise well-sculpted perspective.

    Part of my interest in seeing a maximum vote for Nixon in the September 13 primary has less to do with any realistic assumption that we precious few can hold her accountable in the event of her long-shot election victory (which is the real and only compelling reason to be involved in electoral efforts generally, and we can't do that just now for compelling reasons if we're honest. And holding electeds accountable or else in most situations has to be the core condition for endorsing candidates and following through. Otherwise we're just playing at politicking or collecting creds for a political consulting resume resume. What bears remembering is that there are short range tactical advantages in being visible in this race. To name one, it's a stick in the eye to the labor bureaucracy. With virtually no exception the union tops in New York State are lining up with Cuomo — spinning a mythos of how he's helped workers — this in the face of his laggard labor record, his dirty development deals and the real damage his eight years in office has done to public sector workers' lives. Endorsing Cuomo's opponent says to the union tops — and more to the point their members — that the leaderships are ill-serving their own members, the communities and our class.

    I am fully aware of the limited benefits of a Nixon victory but unlike Jason I don't see the endorsement as an error or even much of a misstep, but a tactical accommodation to the moment that could do justified harm to the state's thug governor. I also don't see this NYCDSA decision as a template for future DP work or a body blow to independent political action or the fostering of illusions in the bought-and-paid for Democrats. This race is anomalous, no product of a "lesser of two evils" syndrome, and no slippery slope to DP perdition as I think Dan would agree. Of course the danger in endorsing a Nixon-type is if it is mistakenly taken as a precedent for future endorsements; it isn't, I'd insist, though it may make those of us who support independent political action have to argue all the harder for building a movement where we don't have to endorse or do ward work for a so-so liberal aspirant to defeat a pro-business cat's paw. But those are the cards we're dealt. With just some six weeks before the state primary, there's no time to reshuffle the cards.

    I do think, as I've written before in New Politics and on DSA blogs, that the enchantment many DSAers have with electoral work, whether for Democrats or independents, tends to overshadow work in base building with the movements. Electoral activity is a tool, but so is direct action, socialist education, propagating anti-capitalist programs that go beyond mere social tinkering, and engaging in other forms of extraparliamentary insurgencies not synchronous with the election cycles. The battle over Nixon, even in interventions with the high degree of comity expressed by Dan and his critics, will soon be over. Situating electoral work in our overall anticapitalist politics needs doing, but not at the expense of either sanctifying political action as purely electoral, whether for or against the corporate friendly Democratic party. Add to that the hard fact that a refusal to endorse doesn't by definition favor other work; it merely obviates campaigning in what little time is left. Sitting out the race does nothing to prepare the left now for moving on developing the many critical nonelectoral programs that a revolutionary opposition must develop to prepare itself and the movements for the coming struggles. At its best, the "no endorsement" argument for this time and place represents stasis. At it's worse, it is a defense of an abstracted independent political action stance that never gets beyond the rhetorical or sabotages any efforts to raise a radical profile in local areas through press-the-flesh organizing that have salience, win or lose, post-election. If IPA is to be the wave of the future — and like Dan I believe it must — it won't come from a principled electoral abstentionism, by enshrining protest voting as anything more than an individual and abstracted moral stance, or by pretending that the fractious Greens are a viable alternative. Abstentions build nothing.

     

  • Nicaragua’s Popular Rebellion Stopped—For Now

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    What is the state of the popular rebellion in Nicaragua? What brought about the rebellion? Who is involved in the rebellion? Who are the most important national and international actors? And what is the nature of the Left’s debate over Nicaragua?

    President Daniel Ortega’s government has succeeded—for now—in stopping the Nicaragua’s popular rebellion after four months of the most severe repression, including killings, kidnappings, and torture of the regime’s opponents by both the police and paramilitary forces.

    During the months of June and July the Ortega government dispatched police and paramilitary forces to take the university campuses, towns and cities such as Masaya, and Managua neighborhoods held by the opposition, killing dozens of people, kidnapping others, wounding scores, and arresting and torturing many. The best estimate is that more than 300 have been killed and thousands wounded, but no hard numbers are available.[1] Ortega’s renewed offensive against what were at first largely peaceful protestors has succeeded for the moment in paralyzing the opposition, though the country continues to seethe.

    During the last few months, in addition to violence, Ortega used a variety of other tactics to defeat the movement. To combat the business class with which he has collaborated since the 1990s, Ortega—who through three recent presidential terms had no interest in land redistribution—sent his followers to seize and occupy some lands held by his wealthy opponents, most of whom make their money in agriculture. Ortega also lashed out at the hierarchy of the Catholic Church, with which he had an alliance for many years, but which is now on his enemies list because of its support for the opposition. He has called Nicaraguan Catholic leaders co-conspirators in a “coup” aimed at overthrowing him.

    Ordinary citizens and working people who joined the democratic protests and then what became a popular and peaceful rebellion are being fired from government jobs, and a number have been arrested, accused of “terrorism,” and jailed. For example, doctors and professors of medicine in the public universities and hospitals are being fired for participating in anti-government protests. The students who were among the first to protest have born the brunt of the violence throughout, dozens being killed, wounded, or tortured. As former Sandinista Oscar René Vargas put it, “The government is trying to decapitate the social movements by arresting local leaders and anyone who has criticized the [government’s] violence against the people.” We are in the “Pinochet phase of the regime,”[2] he said referring to the military dictatorship of General Augusto Pinochet of Chile from 1973-90, who imprisoned and murdered hundreds of leftists associated with the former government of Salvador Allende, which was overthrown by the 1973 coup that Pinochet led. There could hardly be a stronger condemnation of a government by a Latin American leftist.

    Following up on the months of violence and the suppression of the opposition, as the government’s mopping up operation against its opponents went on, Ortega used the July 19 anniversary celebration of the 1979 revolution against the Somoza dynastic dictatorship to mobilize his supporters, though many attended out of fear of being fired from government jobs or attacked by his paramilitary forces. In reality, Ortega’s masked paramilitary thugs—whom he refers to as “voluntary police”—have become for the moment his principal source of power. As in so many other parts of the world, we now have government by a dictator and his gangsters. Still, most Nicaraguans appear to remain opposed to Ortega and the government’s repression of the rebellion. The recent events have created a whole series of economic, social, and political problems—interruption of agricultural production, the collapse of tourism, and international condemnation of the regime—that will not easily be resolved. The popular rebellion may only have been a rehearsal for a revolution, but only time will answer that.

    The Ortega Regime: Neoliberal Dictatorship

    How did things get to this point? The Daniel Ortega government, as I have explained in my book What Went Wrong? The Nicaraguan Revolution: A Marxist Analysis, has its roots in the revolution of 1979 that overthrew the Somoza dynasty. Modeling themselves on Fidel Castro, Che Guevara, and the Cuban Revolution, Ortega and the other leaders of the Sandinista Front for National Liberation (FSLN) who overthrew the Somoza dictatorship wanted to create a new one-party state that controlled absolutely both politics and the national economy, but both the U.S.-backed Contra (counter-revolutionary) war against the FSLN government and divisions within Nicaraguan society made that impossible.

    The threat from the United States of continued war drove Nicaraguans in 1990 to vote for the opposition coalition of Violeta Chamorro, who became president. Daniel Ortega first formed an alliance with Chamorro’s son-in-law Antonio Lacayo, and then gradually made peace and then formed a de facto partnership with Nicaragua’s corrupt Liberal and Conservative parties, with the country’s capitalist class, and with the rightwing head of the Catholic hierarchy, Miguel Obando y Bravo. From the 1990 election until 2006, Daniel Ortega and his conservative allies were the powers behind the throne, wielding enormous power during the presidencies of rightwingers Arnoldo Alemán and Enrique Bolaños.

    Finally in 2006 Ortega succeeded in winning election to the presidency once again (he had served as president during the war in the 1980s). He consolidated his hold on the government, taking control not only of the presidency, but also of the legislature, and the Supreme Court, as well as controlling social organizations and NGOs, and buying up television stations. Ortega imposed neoliberal economic policies aimed at attracting and maintaining domestic, U.S. and other foreign investment by suppressing maquiladora labor unions and keeping wages low. Nicaragua became integrated into the U.S.-dominated North American economy, selling half its products to the United States. At the same time, Ortega established a partnership with the U.S. government, collaborating with the U.S. military, U.S. Navy, and the U.S. Drug Enforcement Agency. Nicaraguan continued to be dependent upon U.S., Venezuelan, and other international aid, but still remained one of the poorest countries in Latin America. Changes were made in the Constitution to permit Ortega to run for a third consecutive term, and with the traditional political tools of fear and favors, he won election again in 2011 and then 2016 with his wife Rosario Murillo as his vice-presidential running mate.

    The Resistance

    Ortega had for years harassed his political opponents, sending his FSLN thugs to beat them when they campaigned against his party. He also worked to discredit and to destroy independent social movements, especially the feminist movement. Large-scale opposition to Ortega began in 2014 with his plan to build an interoceanic canal financed by a Chinese capitalist. Farmers and environmentalists began to protest against the canal; on several occasions police confronted and beat some of them. When in April of this year Ortega announced a reform of social security, both business groups and pensioners objected, and the latter took to the streets to protest. When the elderly protestors were pushed around by police, students came out to join them. Ortega’s forces then shot some of the students, and a few weeks later when mourning mothers led the Mother’s Day demonstration, Ortega’s police and paramilitary fired on them too. The Catholic Church attempted to organize a national dialogue, but Ortega stonewalled the discussions, while the opposition had become intransigent in its demand that he and his wife-vice-president step down.

    The Nicaraguan popular rebellion of this spring and early summer developed as a broad multi-class movement—students, retirees, farmers, working people and businesspeople, religious and lay people—a broad democratic movement that lacked a common political program. The strongest organization with the clearest political ideas—fundamentally conservative, pro-capitalist ideas—is COSEP (Consejo Superior de la Empresa Privada en Nicaragua), the leading business organization. The Catholic Church is also powerful, though it is historically divided into the conservative hierarchy, a theology of liberation current led by some university professors and parish priests, and the mass of pious believers. Students created several organizations, but they have had a tenuous existence because of the government persecution of student activists. Now it seems that some students have begun to sort themselves out politically and a student “left” could be emerging,[3] though exactly what they think is still not clear.The farmers’ movement has been largely limited to those fighting to defends lands directly affected by the proposed transoceanic canal.

    There do exist social movements—environmentalists and feminists—among the educated middle class, but because of government persecution over the last decade or more, they remain small and marginal to the society as a whole. Because Ortega’s FSLN controlled the industrial and agricultural unions, there is virtually no independent labor movement. While there is no independent working class movement, working people have been very active in the opposition movement. Two left opposition groups with social democratic politics do exist, the Sandinista Renovation Movement (MRS) and the Movement to Rescue Sandinismo (MPRS), both of which broke with Ortega and the FSLN years ago, but they never succeeded in finding a following among the increasingly alienated and politically apathetic public. And because Ortega’s FSLN has discredited the idea of socialism and repressed rival democratic socialist currents, it is not surprising that aside from the MRS and the MPRS there is no left to speak of in the movement. The result is that the popular rebellion has been a democratic movement fighting against dictatorship, but its constituent members have failed to create clear political programs. There is, however, the possibility that the democratic struggle could open up a social struggle that would create a new left, while in any case many believe that even a more democratic bourgeois regime would be superior to Ortega’s dictatorship.

    The popular rebellion’s activists occupied university campuses, barricaded themselves in Managua neighborhoods, and fortified their villages and towns. Opponents set up something like 150 roadblocks throughout the country, bringing the economy to a virtual halt. They also organized at least two general strikes that paralyzed the country for a day or more. Whenever possible they took to the streets again and again in massive protest demonstrations against the government, marching even as sharpshooters fired on them, killing dozens. Attacked by the police and paramilitaries, some opponents fabricated weapons or took them from the police and fought back. So the violence continued until Ortega’s police and paramilitaries eventually succeeded in stopping if not entirely eradicating the largely peaceful rebellion.[4]  

    International Actors

    The popular rebellion and its violent suppression, which had interrupted the economies of all of Central America and raised the specter of revolution or reaction, led international actors to become involved. The United States government, which has dominatedthe Caribbean and Central America since 1900 or earlier had been happy enough with Ortega until quite recently. U.S. organizations such as USAID and the National Endowment for Democracy (NED), and no doubt the CIA had for decades, of course, worked in Nicaragua as they do everywhere in the world. It would take a few months, however, before President Donald J. Trump’s State Department began to see the rebellion against Ortega as an opportunity perhaps to establish an even more pliant government, though it did so gradually and cautiously.

    In May, messaging on Twitter, Vice-President Mike Pence condemned the Nicaraguan government’s violence, but only demanded that the Ortega government protect its citizens and their rights.[5] Speaking at the Organization of American States on June 4, U.S. Secretary of State Mike Pompeo said:

    In Nicaragua police and government-controlled armed groups have killed dozens, merely for peacefully protesting. I echo what Vice President Pence said in this very building on May 7th: “We join with nations around the world in demanding that Ortega Government [respond] to the Nicaraguan people’s demands for the democratic reform and hold accountable those responsible for violence.” The United States supports the work of the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights and what it is doing in Nicaragua, and strongly urges the Nicaraguan Government to implement the recommendations issued by the commission this past May 21st.[6]

    Still there was no general condemnation of the Ortega government, only a call for reform. The United States appeared to support the call made by Nicaraguan business and the Church for early elections.

    Ironically the Trump administration behaves as if it were a defender of democracy and freedom. Trump's government issued a general condemnation of the regime did not come until late July, and even thensimply called for an end to violence, for dialogue, and for fair elections:

    The United States strongly condemns the ongoing violence in Nicaragua and human rights abuses committed by the Ortega regime in response to protests. After years of fraudulent elections and the regime’s manipulation of Nicaraguan law – as well as the suppression of civil society, opposition parties, and independent media – the Nicaraguan people have taken to the streets to call for democratic reforms. These demands have been met with indiscriminate violence, with more than 350 dead, thousands injured, and hundreds of citizens falsely labeled “coup-mongers” and “terrorists” who have been jailed, tortured, or who have gone missing. President Ortega and Vice President Murillo are ultimately responsible for the pro-government parapolice that have brutalized their own people.

    The United States stands with the people of Nicaragua, including members of the Sandinista party, who are calling for democratic reforms and an end to the violence. Free, fair, and transparent elections are the only avenue toward restoring democracy in Nicaragua. We support the Catholic Church-led National Dialogue process for good faith negotiations.[7]

    The Trump administration limited sanctions to personal sanctions against Ortega, Murillo, and Francisco Díaz, head of the national police,[8] and to a revocation of the visas of Nicaraguan government officials and their families.[9]

    While the Trump administration’s public statements remained mild, there is no doubt that the U.S. State Department, Republican Senators and Representatives, and rightwing organizations were deepening their contacts with conservative elements in Nicaragua and exploring political alternatives to the continued rule of Ortega. The Republicans put forward and the U.S. House of Representatives passed a resolution criticizing the Ortega government.[10] Republican members of Congress invited Nicaraguan students to meet with them in Washington while the students were there to speak before international organizations and human rights groups. All of this is, of course, standard practice of the U.S. government, which works everywhere in the Americas (and for that matter throughout the world) to shape international developments, even if it did not initiate them and cannot control them.

    In response to the U.S. government’s pressure, Daniel Ortega gave an interview to Fox News, the one TV channel that Donald Trump always watches, no doubt with the goal of speaking directly to the U.S. president.[11] Ortega denied that the government had been violently repressing its citizens and claimed that on the contrary it was the popular rebellion that had unleashed the violence and attacked “Sandinista families.” Historian Alejandro Bendaña suggested that Ortega’s goal was to convince Trump that if his government fell there would be chaos in Nicaragua and possibly more migrants to the United Staes. Trump, however, did not tweet any response to Ortega.[12]

    The Organization of American States (OAS) debated Nicaragua and passed a resolution, sponsored by the United States and several Latin American nations, that similarly called on the government to protect its citizens, to enter into dialogue, and to hold early elections.[13] The United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights issued on July 17 a very strong condemnation of the Nicaraguan government together with specific details of human rights violations and demanded that the government follow international law and protect its citizens. (I urge readers to consult the statement via the link in the footnotes).[14] Members of the European Parliament passed a non-legislative resolution on May 31 denouncing “the decline in democracy and the rule of law in Nicaragua over the last decade, as well as increased corruption, often involving relatives of President Daniel Ortega.” The resolution passed by 536 votes to 39, with 53 abstentions.[15]

    The United States worked to coordinate the international responses to the Nicaraguan crisis, but it appeared to aim principally at a gradual transition through early elections.[16] Early elections would give the United States time to work with conservative parties and business groups in Nicaragua to construct a political coalition and find a conservative candidate for president who would serve U.S. interests. The aims of the Nicaraguan business class, the Church hierarchy, and the United States government happen to coincide, but they do not represent the interests of the students, pensioners, farmers, environmentalists and feminists, and working people fighting for democracy.

    The Popular Rebellion and the Left

    The Nicaraguan popular rebellion has been the subject of a debate between the democratic left, which has supported it, and the neo-Stalinist left, which has backed the dictator Ortega. Kevin Zeese and Max Blumenthal wrote many articles, sent many tweets, and gave many interviews in which they alleged that the United States had orchestrated an attempted coup in Nicaragua. They and other authors like them offered as evidence the historical record of U.S. imperialism in Latin America (which is indisputable) and the long-term and well-known role of U.S. agencies such as USAID and NED in attempting to strengthen conservative forces, and they quoted the words or rightwing Republican representatives and suggested with no actual proof the existence of a CIA plot. What they did not do was discuss the actual nature of the Ortega government and its authoritarian and conservative policies; in fact they seemed to know little about recent Nicaraguan developments.[17]

    Many of my generation, the generation of 1968, who supported the Nicaraguan revolution of 1979 (as I did), may have found these arguments appealing, reflecting as they did the situation forty years ago, but not only do they have little factual or logical merit, but they are based on a specious reasoning that denigrates ordinary people and idolizes strongmen. Such arguments are based upon three fundamental suppositions:

    1) Nicaraguans and other Latin Americans cannot have legitimate grievances against the “Leftists” governments and would any case be incapable of creating their own movement, so they must be manipulated by some other force;

    2) the United States masterminds and controls all political developments in Latin America from Argentina and Brazil to Venezuela and Nicaragua, and it is the real force behind any apparent popular opposition;

    3) existing “anti-imperialist” governments (Russia, Syria, Nicaragua), whatever their character, must be supported against the world’s only imperialist nation, the United States.

    These arguments can only appeal to those who have no understanding of the complexity of international political developments, of a world where, for example, people can organize themselves, a left can develop critical of a so-called leftist government, and the United States, powerful as it is, cannot always call the shots. That these authors provide shameful support for an authoritarian, capitalist government murdering hundreds and wounding thousands of its citizens is not surprising, given their support for Vladimir Putin’s regime in Russia, Iran’s theocratic dictatorship, and Assad’s dictatorship in Syria. Zeese and Blumenthal represent what writer Rohini Hensman has called a neo-Stalinist current that came out of the left but now has little that is even vaguely leftists about it.[18]   

    Fortunately, the international democratic left has rallied in defense of the Nicaraguan people’s rebellion. Noam Chomsky spoke out against Ortega’s “authoritarian” government on Democracy Now.[19] Dozens of leftist intellectuals and political activists  principally from Europe and Latin America signed a statement strongly condemning the Ortega governments and containing these demands:

    The unconditional release of all political prisoners; the transfer of information from the authorities to human rights organizations about the real situation of the persons declared missing; disarmament of the paramilitary army organized by Ortega and his government; an independent international investigation into the various forms and facets of repression, with appropriate sanctions; the constitution of a transitional government — with a limited mandate, — leading to free elections; and the end of the Ortega-Murillo government.[20]

    The international democratic and revolutionary left by and large shares the view presented in this article, that Nicaragua has experienced a popular rebellion against a dictator, and that the Ortega government should be condemned and the popular movement supported.

    Conclusion

    While the popular rebellion developed in their homeland, many Nicaraguans rallied to support it, but now some fear that that solidarity with their compatriots may put them in danger. There are 5,300 Nicaraguans living in the United States who have Temporary Protective Status (TPS), which provides them with temporary residence and work authorization. The Trump administration plans to end TPS for Nicaraguans in January 2019. If Nicaraguans return to their country in January 2019, all of them will face a potentially dangerous situation, Some who have been supporting the rebellion from here may also face reprisals when they return, which, based on recent experience, might include imprisonment, torture, or worse. We as socialists should support the Nicaraguan community in the United States should it call for an extension of Nicaraguan TPS.

     

    The first stage of the Nicaraguan popular rebellion of 2018 has ended, and whether or not there will be a second stage depends upon many factors: Ortega’s ability to keep the movement down, the ability of the movement to regroup and reorganize, the role of the U.S. government in attempting to shape a new government to its liking, and our ability to show solidarity with the Nicaraguan popular movement. Our positions should be clear:

    Ortega must go. The U.S. must keep out. The popular movement must be supported.

     



    [1] Reports of the repression can be found at the Nicaraguan Human Rights Center at: https://www.cenidh.org/; at the Amnesty International site searching Nicaragua: https://www.amnestyusa.org/search/Nicaragua/;  at the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR) at: http://www.oas.org/en/iachr/reports/pdfs/Nicaragua2018-en.pdf

    [2] Lucia Navas, “Oscar René Vargas: regimen pasa “a fase pinochetista” contra protesta,” La Prensa,  https://www.laprensa.com.ni/2018/07/27/politica/2453383-oscar-rene-vargas-regimen-pasa-fase-pinochetista-contra-protesta

    [3] Lori Hanson and Miguel Gomez, “Deciphering the Nicaraguan Student Uprising/ Descifrando el levantamiento estudiantil nicaragüense,” NACLA (website), at: https://nacla.org/news/2018/07/03/deciphering-nicaraguan-student-uprising-descifrando-el-levantamiento-estudiantil

    [6] U.S. State Department, “Remarks at the General Assembly of the OAS,” at: https://www.state.gov/secretary/remarks/2018/06/282938.htm

    [8] Catie Edmondson, “U.S. Imposes Sanctions on 3 Top Nicaraguan Officials After Violent Crackdown,” New York Times, at:

    https://www.nytimes.com/2018/07/05/us/politics/us-nicaragua-sanctions.html

    [10] House Foreign Affairs Committee, “House Condemns Ortega Regime’s Violence in Nicaragua,” at: https://foreignaffairs.house.gov/press-release/house-condemns-ortega-regimes-violence-in-nicaragua/

    [11] “Daniel Ortega on Fox News” at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y7Oxprcai-g

    [13] OAS statement on Nicargua at; http://www.oas.org/en/media_center/press_release.asp?sCodigo=E-048/18 This was the vote: The resolution was approved with 21 votes in favor (Colombia, Costa Rica, Ecuador, United States, Guatemala, Guyana, Honduras, Jamaica, Mexico, Panama, Paraguay, Peru, Dominican Republic, Saint Lucia, Uruguay, Antigua and Barbuda, Argentina, The Bahamas, Brazil, Canada, Chile), 3 against (Nicaragua, Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, Venezuela), 7 abstentions (El Salvador, Grenada, Haiti, Suriname, Trinidad and Tobago, Barbados, Belize) and three absences (Dominica, Saint Kitts and Nevis, Bolivia).

    [14] UN High Commissioner for Hunan Rights statement on Nicaragua at: https://www.ohchr.org/EN/NewsEvents/Pages/DisplayNews.aspx?NewsID=23383&LangID=E

    [15]  EU Parliament News, “Nicaragua: MEPs condemn brutal repression and demand elections,” at: http://www.europarl.europa.eu/news/en/press-room/20180524IPR04239/nicaragua-meps-condemn-brutal-repression-and-demand-elections

    [17] Zeese and Blumenthal’s articles, interviews, and tweets can be found by searching their last names together with Nicaragua in Google. While they wrote much

    [18] Rohini Hensman, Indefensible: Democracy, Counterrevolution, and the Rhetoric of Anti-Imperialism (Chicago: Haymarket, 2018).

    [20] “Standing Against State Violence in Nicaragua,” Socialist Worker, July 30, at: https://socialistworker.org/2018/07/30/standing-against-state-violence-in-nicaragua

     

  • Why Humanism Matters in the Fight Against Capital

    ImageDehumanization is the word that best captures our present moment. How else to describe separating children as young as two or three from their parents and throwing them in cages and detention centers just because their families are fleeing severe persecution? It isn’t just about Trump; it’s also about the tens of millions in the U.S. who are avidly supporting his policies. How could this be happening?

    And how could the European Union be shutting the doors on immigrants from Africa and the Middle East when just a few years ago Angela Merkel proclaimed “Wir Schaffen Das! [We Can Do This!]” in welcoming a million refugees into Germany? The number of asylum seekers going to Europe has now dwindled to a trickle, yet anti-immigrant sentiment has grown so much that Merkel and almost every other European leader has capitulated to it (do note that the latest restrictions were also agreed to by the “left” of center German Social Democrats).

    And how could Israel get away with murdering hundreds of non-violent Palestinian protestors in Gaza over the past months, many of them children as young as 11 or 12, at the same time as it seeks to evict tens of thousands of African migrants who sought asylum there in response to war and repression in the Horn of Africa?

    These are not the only signs of dehumanization today—I have not mentioned the massacre of hundreds of thousands by Assad in Syria, which (incredibly) a portion of the U.S. left supports. But we only have so much time, so let’s get to the key question: What explains this world-wide descent into conditions of outright dehumanization?             

    It’s a difficult question, but it cannot be answered without confronting the logic of capital. Marx and Engels’s Communist Manifesto spoke of how capital “has left remaining no other nexus between man and man than naked self-interest, than callous ‘cash payment.’” How much truer is this now! The drive to augment value (or wealth measured in monetary terms) as an end in itself has led to an unprecedented level of instability and insecurity. It has destroyed the manual working class in much of the Western world, producing hollowed-out communities, shattered families, and severe atomization. Since value production generates ever-more abstract and indirect forms of domination, the dynamic that drives this process is often hard to see. This creates fertile soil for resurgent racism and sexism, as many seek simplistic answers to their problems by blaming people of color—an option that is all too readily available in a society whose entire ways of seeing has been over-determined by racism since its inception.

    This dehumanization is bound to continue so long as capitalism lives on. So is it possible to develop a viable alternative to capitalism? There surely is a desire to do so—as seen in the growth of opposition to Trump and his policies. A recent poll showed that 61% of 18 to 34-year-olds say they prefer socialism to capitalism. Welcome news as this is, it by no means guarantees that opposition to capitalism and imperialism will lead to a viable alternative to capitalist dehumanization. Social Democracy, despite introducing at times some valuable reforms, utterly failed to pose such an alternative; its capitulation to neoliberalism has completely discredited it and left the field open for resurgent xenophobic nationalism and racism. The putatively Marxist-Leninist states, despite their initial success in obtaining freedom from imperialism, were no less of a failure; their replacement of “market anarchy” with state-command economies produced some of the most repressive regimes on earth, while virtually all of them regressed into one or another form of market capitalism as their economic non-viability became evident.

    The unanswered question that hovers over us all is can opposition to existing society overcome dehumanization? We have a chance, if we target the core of capitalism as delineated in Marx’s critique of capital. He once wrote, “When one speaks of private property, one believes he has only to deal with a fact outside of humanity. When man speaks of labor, he has to deal directly with humanity itself.” Marx’s critique of capital goes much deeper than focusing on property forms, exchange relations, and the seizure of state power. It focuses on the need to uproot the human relations that give rise to the drive to augment value and profit as an end in itself in the first place.

    The key here is that value, or wealth measured in monetary terms, is the expression of a peculiar form of social labor— “abstract” or alienated labor. The value of a commodity, Marx shows, is not determined by the actual amount of time taken to produce it but by the socially necessary labor time established on a global level. This average varies continuously, due to technological innovations that increase the productivity of labor. It is communicated to social agents behind their backs, through the laws of competition. As capitalism progresses, concrete labor—the varied kinds of labor employed in making use-values—becomes increasingly dominated by labor that conforms to an abstract average. Abstract labor—and abstract labor alone—is the substance of value, which takes the phenomenal form of exchange-value in the market.

    Value may be a rather abstract category, but it depends upon a very concrete kind of human activity: labor that is constrained by a time determination that is completely outside of human control. Once labor assumes a dual form in which abstract labor dominates concrete labor, productive activity ceases to be the expression of workers’ creativity, but instead becomes a monotonous, thing-like activity that suppresses it. This reification of the workers’ concrete, sensuous activity in the drive to generate ever-greater amounts of wealth in abstract, monetary form is the essence of capitalism. As Raya Dunayevskaya put it in her book Marxism and Freedom,

    “Marx’s primary theory is a theory of what he first called ‘alienated labor’ and then ‘abstract’ or ‘value-producing’ labor…In essence what Marx said to [the classical political economists] was: you thought your task was done with the discovery of labor as the source of value. In reality, it has just begun. If that theory means anything at all, it means that you must deal with man, the laborer, directly…Marx’s analysis of labor—and this is what distinguishes him from all other Socialists and Communists and his day and of ours—goes much further than the economic structure of society. His analysis goes to the actual human relations.”

     

    There are a large number of Marxist theorists in recent years (Backhaus, Postone, Arthur, Bonefeld, Uno, Sekina, et al.) that have focused on critiquing the logic of capital in terms of the forms of domination generated by capitalist value production. And most have done so by critiquing versions of statist or market socialism that limits the critique of capitalism to the existence of private property and the free market. More and more have come to see that the critique of capital must go much deeper than the surface level of society (such as property forms, market relations, and unequal forms of distribution) by dealing with the alienated mode of production and reproduction that drives capital accumulation. However, few of them connect the critique of value production to humanism—that is, to the need to transform the very fabric of human relations that serve as the basis of value production. It is as if they have become imprisoned by the object of their critique: They have much to say about the limits of capitalism, but remarkably little about what constitutes an emancipatory alternative to it.

    Marxist-Humanism offers a different approach. It critiques value production with full awareness that it is the result of an array of specific alienated relations, each of which must be transformed on the grassroots level to produce an exit from capitalism. The challenge is to critique capitalism’s most abstract forms of domination without taking one’s finger off the pulse of human relations. This what Marx called for in writing, “All emancipation is a reduction of the human world and relationships to humanity itself.”

    That Marxist-Humanism pinpoints the central importance of transforming conditions of labor by no means leads it into the blind alley of a “class-first” position that treats gender and race as secondary considerations. The very opposite is the case. Marxism is not a mere theory of class struggle; it is a philosophy of liberation that seeks to give voice to those who resist capitalist dehumanization in its myriad forms.

    The market makes of everything—whether labor, art, or sexual desire—a commodity to be bought and sold, with one unit of value replaceable by any other of equivalent value. Just as each product of labor is mutually exchangeable, every person is as well—so long as each embodies an equivalent amount of economic value (herein lies the basis of the bourgeois illusion that we are all equal agents, despite the inequities of modern society). But as all of us know all too well, many of our relations are based on an entirely different structure—especially between parents and children­. No matter how strained or patriarchal it may be at times, this relation is not based on an exchange of products or activities of equal (abstract) economic value. One of the mysteries of capitalism is that workers freely agree to sell their labor power to the capitalists, even though only one side (the capitalist) benefits. Marx spent twenty years trying to figure out why. But no person within a family would willingly consent to being treated as just another commodity by another member of the same family. As Virginia Held has argued, although individuals of any gender or sexual orientation may participate in mothering a child, and an individual may mother many children, no child and no mothering person relates to each other as merely replaceable commodities.

    Capitalism treats all human relations as potentially replaceable commodities. So what does it do when it comes across human relations that resist its “process of suction” (to borrow a phrase from Marx)? It simply casts them to the side, and even seeks to destroy them. Such is what we are seeing in this world today.

    But there is a way out. We are already in touch with forms of caring, reciprocity, and communalism that have a completely different ontological structure than capital’s logic of commodification. They are part of the fabric of our everyday experience. We need not pass over or ignore them for the sake of bowing to capital’s drive to augment economic value. The basis of resistance lies in us and around us. What we need is a revolutionary philosophy that captures, emphasizes, and expresses that humanism.

    Marx once stated—a comment many “Marxists” seem to go out of their way to avoid mentioning—that the relation between men and women is the “most fundamental” and the “measure” of how free or unfree is any society. Perhaps we should update this by saying that the relation between child and parent is the most fundamental, and any society that tramples on it is condemned, under penalty of death, to be uprooted by a thorough-going revolutionary transformation. If this is the case, then regardless of where we live, we face the task that Frantz Fanon spelled out in his very last words, just before his death in 1961: “For Europe, for ourselves, and for humanity, comrades, we must make a new start, develop a new way of thinking, and endeavor to create a new humanity.”

  • Whither Korea?

    Image

    After the Singapore meeting between Trump and Kim Jong-un, questions loom large. What is the path ahead for North Korea? What chances are there for a lasting peace on the Korean Peninsula? South Korean socialists weigh in.

    The original version of this article was published May 6, 2018, by 노동해방투쟁연대 준비모임 (No He Tu—Solidarity for Workers’ Liberation Struggle), a revolutionary socialist organization based in South Korea. For years, No He Tu militants have focused their activities on organizing among industrial workers and, through struggle, cultivating political leadership within the working class. Recently, they played a pivotal role in the SK Broadband workers’ strike in Seoul (interview forthcoming). In addition to its website, No He Tu publishes a biweekly newspaper and journals covering global imperialism, Marxist theory, international politics, and the Korean labor movement. The following is their analysis of the shifting relations between North and South Korea. The views expressed in this article do not necessarily reflect the positions of Left Voice’s editorial board.

    Seoul, South Korea, It is still unclear how the situation in Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK) will develop. Beyond the process of negotiations and trade agreements among rulers, there is an urgent need to establish a class policy for the workers on the Korean Peninsula. How the Korean political situation develops will reveal itself only in the struggles between the capitalist and working classes. How should the workers’ movement operate in the context of this class struggle? The specific means may vary according to circumstances and conditions, but they will inevitably be connected to the fundamental problem, “capitalism or socialism?”

    Declaring Peace in an Unending War

    The meeting between South Korean President Moon Jae-in and North Korean Leader Kim Jong-un took place April 27, 2018. That day, the two Korean leaders issued the Panmunjom Declaration for Peace, Prosperity and Unification on the Korean Peninsula, in which the leaders “solemnly declared before the 80 million Korean people and the whole world that there will be no more war on the Korean Peninsula and thus a new era of peace has begun.”

    The statement, fashioned in abstract terms, was said to be a kind of road map for denuclearization talks between the United States and the DPRK. Then, on June 13, the on-again, off-again meeting between President Trump and Kim Jong-un finally took place in Singapore.

    Although these meetings have captured the media’s attention and earned President Moon a favorable rating among South Koreans (and international media), these peace maneuvers are in fact unsustainable and can never guarantee permanent peace. Instead, the situation in the region has become extremely dangerous amid increasing tensions between imperialist powers, particularly the United States and China.

    In the absence of a worldwide workers’ revolution, we cannot begin to expect a lasting peace on the Korean Peninsula. More importantly, the various peace treaties stem from the expansion of “dirty trade” among the ruling classes of North and South Korea and of the imperialist powers (United States, China, Japan and Russia). This trade is based on the exploiters’ interest in stabilizing the Korean Peninsula and expanding their profits.

    South Korean Capitalists’ Plan for the North

    Lee Jong-seok, senior adviser of the inter-Korean summit and former South Korean Minister of Unification, praised the North Korean workers at Kaesong Industrial Complex for their 100% literacy rate, high level of discipline and “diligence” rated among the best in the world. Lee said DPRK workers are “South Korean workers without unions,” exemplifying South Korean capitalists’ perspective on denuclearization and inter-Korean relations.

    South Korean capitalists do not oppose inter-Korean rapprochement; they generally support it, whether implicitly or explicitly. They regard the North Korean working class as fodder. DPRK workers speak the same language, have not waged any class struggle for decades and lack independent organization. The full and open opportunity to exploit North Korean workers can serve as a potent weapon against the South Korean working class, increasing the rate of exploitation by oppressing the more disobedient ones.

    South Korea’s approach to North Korea can thus be described as establishing a prospective internal colony.

    New pressures will likely be placed on South Korean workers through the use of subcontract orders (i.e., Original Equipment Manufacturer deals), the transfer of production bases to the North and the development of large-scale production facilities in inter-Korean border areas that employ low-wage North Korean workers. These would be useful means of suppressing a generation of young workers in the South, who in the coming decade would otherwise probably earn higher wages (thanks in part to a low birth rate in the South) and gain the confidence to organize themselves. Furthermore, North Korea’s abundant mining resources, such as iron, tungsten, molybdenum and magnesite used to produce high-tech devices and systems, could reduce the costs.

    The advancement of inter-Korean relations opens up opportunities for South Korean capital to penetrate the enormous market in China. Breaking from its dependence on shipping, South Korea’s trade with China via railways traversing North Korea would speed up transport and reduce logistics costs threefold. Using cheap labor in the North to export products to China, as well as to Russia, would maximize this effect.

    We can also expect massive investment opportunities in social overhead capital (SOC) and infrastructure in the process of the DPRK’s primitive accumulation. For example, the cost of modernizing railways and roads in North Korea is estimated at 150 trillion won (US$150 billion), matched by expected investment opportunities in the electricity sector. The share of South Korean companies in the electric power industry is already surging by over 40 percent. Steel and construction capital are salivating over future demand in the North, which is increasingly seen as a prospective oasis for South Korean capital, which has searched in vain for suitable investment markets after recently experiencing a sharp fall in investment rates.

    Thus, improving inter-Korean relations and economic cooperation would allow the Korean capitalist class to achieve a variety of goals, including an increase in the rate of profit, the opening of new markets, heightened exploitation of South Korean workers and the sweeping exploitation of North Korean workers.

    In this way, Korean capital sees inter-Korean problems as an opportunity to relieve the catastrophic crises that it faces and will face in the future. South Korea’s approach to North Korea can thus be described as establishing a prospective “internal colony.”

    The North’s Plans

    In exchange for nuclear disarmament, the North Korean capitalist class seeks to draw a promise of security from the imperialist powers surrounding the Korean Peninsula, especially from American imperialism. But the North Korean capitalists are not foolish. To them, the guarantees of a new arrangement must not only be etched in politics and diplomacy, but also in economic terms. They are clearly aware that if the material lives of North Korean workers who have fallen to the bottom do not improve, the regime will eventually collapse.

    So far, North Korean rulers have placed most of their social resources and capabilities in military power and nuclear weapons. For them, nuclear power is practically the only “fruit” of North Korea’s social capacity. Their current strategy is to use the nuclear program as crucial collateral to expand trade with imperialists—thereby obtaining a base for economic growth (electricity, rails, roads, ports)—and to shift the country’s capacities toward capital accumulation (not unlike the Vietnamese reforms and the Chinese open-door policy).

    Hundreds of billions of dollars would be necessary for such an undertaking, which is what the DPRK desperately requests in exchange for abandoning nuclear energy. But who will invest these billions? Negotiations for nuclear dismantlement, which have taken place several times over the decades, have repeatedly failed because the United States refused to pay and demanded total nuclear dismantlement—no railways or power lines in exchange.

    Perhaps counterintuitively, this has reflected U.S. imperialism’s weakening economic power. After WWII and during the Korean War, the burgeoning U.S. empire had enough power to “support” a postcolonial South Korea. But the U.S. imperialism of 2018 is not that of the 1940s and 1950s. This old and infirm imperialism lacks the economic capability to embrace the DPRK rulers’ requests. The United States today can only survive by brutally exploiting weaker countries. Even faced with the golden opportunity to expand its political influence in the DPRK, U.S. imperialism cannot bear the cost.

    But South Korean capital may be able to accomplish what U.S. capital cannot. The South has become economically powerful enough to meet the demands of the North Korean ruling class, despite some foreseeable challenges. The crisis of South Korean capitalism—a huge surplus capital and declining rate of profit—has pushed the country’s capitalists to look to the colossal project of economic investment in North Korea. Cheap labor power, abundant minerals and the potential for massive markets in North Korea, China and Russia are seductive enough for South Korean capital to consider the task.

    If the U.S.-DPRK summit is the “political stage” for North Korean nuclear disarmament, then the inter-Korean summit is the “economic stage.” As the Moon Jae-in government promises to make such investments on behalf of the South Korean capitalist class, the current deal is being made.

    By trading nuclear power for economic support, the North Korean ruling class seizes the opportunity for primitive accumulation, seeking to build a strong enough economic base to overcome major threats to its political system. Besides new foreign investment, the other decisive means for the North’s ruling class to mobilize is the country’s workers—who will be ruthlessly exploited as part of the regime’s plan to rapidly accumulate capital. As can be seen from the example of the Kaesong Industrial Complex (KIC), which provided a large-scale labor force for South Korean capitalists, the NK ruling class will guarantee miserably low wages and use the remains for accumulation.

    In short, the North Korean government will play the role of “human resource intermediary” between South Korean capitalists and North Korean workers. The commission for this mediation is sure to be tremendously high, and it will be used as primary capital for the development of North Korean capitalism.

    Let’s take the case of the KIC. In February 2016, North Korea’s Minister of Unification Hong Yong-pyo stated, “Seventy percent of workers’ wages in KIC go into the [North Korean Labor] Party Secretariat, and this money is used for nuclear development.” But the government takes 100 percent, not 70 percent.

    After the North Korean government receives wages in dollars from South Korean companies, it pays the North Korean workers with North Korean money or in kind, at a very low rate. Former U.S. ambassador Alexander Vershbow has even argued that the KIC actually plays a role in funding North Korea’s nuclear development, since the KIC’s workers do not directly receive wages from Korean companies. But Hong Yong-pyo and Vershbow did not mention the North Korean government’s role as a labor-power intermediary, which it plays by brutally repressing unionization and strikes.

    Both the North and South Korean capitalists assume that the North Korean government will freely exploit and repress the North Korean working class to no end. This is a very dangerous calculation.

    The KIC can be seen as a tiny fraction, or foreshadowing of the so-called planned “economic cooperation” between the Moon Jae-in and Kim Jong-un governments. The North Korean government’s intermediary role will be greatly expanded. But there will be a departure from the past: the enormous profits extorted from North Korean workers through economic cooperation will be used not for nuclear development, but for primitive accumulation in the North.

    The ROK government and Korea Railroad Corporation (KORAIL) estimate that the costs of restoring and modernizing the Gyeong-eui, Dong-hae and Gyeong-won rails (for uninterrupted service to China) would be cut in half if the North Korean government provides free labor. They arrived at this calculation from the following: In various areas, South Korean capital will draw profits by investing capital in North Korea, paying only the minimum wage to North Korean workers; the North Korean government then takes the extraordinary profits for capital accumulation funds. In addition, some profits will be collected regularly from South Korean capitalists by the North, in exchange for passage through their territory. Through these sorts of tariffs from China and South Korea, they will try to gain the means of capital accumulation. According to their calculations, capitalists on both sides of the DMZ [Demilitarized Zone that separates North and South Korea] could make huge profits and break out of their respective crises.

    But these projections presuppose an infinite, joint exploitation of the North Korean working class. Both the North and South Korean capitalists assume that the North Korean government will freely exploit and repress the North Korean working class to no end. This is a very dangerous calculation.
    Chinese capitalists are also creating plans that do not conflict with those of the North Korean capitalists. The Chinese rulers have no choice but to agree to establish a peace regime on the Korean Peninsula at the moment because they want to avoid a nuclear crisis. China appears to be alienated from the current flow of events, but we can expect China to be the most influential player in the long term.

    What will happen if an inland economic network that runs from South Korea, through the North and into China, and, as a result, China’s economic power grows to challenge the United States? Chinese capitalists believe that this enormous economic influence would be paired with decisive influence on the rulers of both Koreas.

    Therefore, although it appears that the Chinese state capitalist bureaucracies have given the United States the upper hand in its initiatives on the Korean peninsula, they can be sure that their interests will improve naturally with the smooth expansion of the economic link between the two Koreas.

    Of course, unlike the expectations of Chinese state bureaucrats, the reality will be very complicated and contradictory. The reform and opening of North Korea will go along with the utmost utilitarian calculations, as in the Vietnamese model. The North Korean ruling class will likely pursue utilitarian relations between China and the United States, swinging back and forth like a pendulum. In the process, the United States and China will compete fiercely for control of the Peninsula, bringing crisis to the region in various forms. This would ultimately become the crisis of global capitalism, expanding the unresolved crisis on the Korean Peninsula beyond the region.
    The North Korean capitalists are now convinced that it is time for them to be bold, taking advantage of the various contradictory interests of Korea, the United States and China. It is a great opportunity, perhaps the only opportunity, to stabilize the North Korean state capitalist system.

    For or Against the Current Peace Process?

    What should be the attitude of the South Korean working class toward the agreement to end the war, the peace treaty and the declaration of denuclearization? Ultimately, we do not oppose these aims. But we approve them only conditionally.

    First, these various peace treaties can have only a temporary and limited effect, because real peace on the Korean Peninsula can never be achieved without cutting the roots of imperialism and capitalism, which lead to the threat of war. True peace on the Peninsula can be achieved only through the international unity of the working class and the revolutionary action of eliminating capitalism based on this unity—not through peace agreements between capitalists.

    Second, we conditionally approve the peace agreement only in terms of advancing the unity between workers in both Koreas, and the development of the working class’ power to struggle.

    At present, the workers of the two Koreas and the worldwide working class have not reached the stage of unity and revolutionary preparation to end capitalism at once. In this situation, peace provides more favorable conditions for the total unity of the working class, compared to the condition of war, which forces the working class to point their guns at each other. More opportunities for communication may make it possible for once-isolated segments of the working class to better understand each other and unite.

    The denuclearization, expansion of North-South exchanges and the peace agreement will provide the chance for revolutionary advancement within the working class of both Koreas.

    Unlike the hopes of the North Korean capitalist bureaucracy, the North Korean system, punctured everywhere by economic cooperation, will be unable to prevent the awakening of the North Korean working class. North Korean workers will become increasingly aware of the regime’s backwardness and the vicious oppression with which it rules, wiping out the illusions that the North Korean rulers have imposed through external containment and media control. They will realize quickly that their suffering is not solely caused by U.S. imperialism but by the oppression, exploitation and incompetence of the North Korean rulers.

    Of course, the North Korean rulers will try to stabilize the system and consolidate control by attracting public support à la Park Jung-hee (the former South Korean president who took power through a military coup in 1963), with speedy industrialization and economic development through economic cooperation and the opening of North Korean markets. But things will never happen according to their expectations, because North Korea’s rulers will try to absorb the fruits of economic growth for the rapid accumulation of capital, forcing high rates of exploitation; the fruits of economic development will not return to the North Korean working class quickly.

    As a result, the growth of awareness, consciousness, enthusiasm and resistance of the North Korean working class will not keep pace with changes in living conditions, which will improve very slowly. The North Korean regime will be shaken by this gap, as the struggle, resistance and independent organization of the North Korean working class will spread.

    Moreover, the North Korean hereditary system and state organization is too old and rigid to cope with rapid economic changes, and will collide everywhere with the demands of emerging capitalists, who are rapidly growing in accordance with private capitalization. This results in a struggle for leadership between the old and new bureaucracies among the North Korean rulers. The unity of the North Korean ruling class will face risks from time to time. And this crack in the North Korean ruling class, coupled with the growing resistance of the working class, is likely to bring great upheaval to North Korea.

    Resolving the inter-Korean conflict will have a great effect on the advancement of the South Korean working class. After the fall of the South Korean Park Geun-hye government in 2016, the Moon Jae-in administration, seeing itself as a descendent of the candlelight protests, has put various democratic policies into practice.

    But workers increasingly ask, “Why is there no change in the lives of workers? Why is it that poverty, inequality, irregular employment, layoffs and instability still determine our realities? Why is power in society still monopolized by capitalists? What is democracy today?”

    Marx and Lenin were correct to argue that workers’ movements should support bourgeois democratic revolution and the advancement of bourgeois democracy, not because something revolutionary will automatically result. The more bourgeois democracy is completed, the more it cannot transcend fake democracy unless it abolishes capitalism; workers’ democracy can be achieved only through the realization of socialism. Following the government of Kim Dae-jung and Roh Moo-hyun, the government of Moon Jae-in today plays a historic role in proving this point.

    The expansion of inter-Korean communications will declare bankruptcy on nationalism. The Korean working class will learn that peace and cooperation on the Korean Peninsula is no more than the cooperation between the ruling classes of the two Koreas for the exploitation of the working class, and that the two Korean capitalists nations will strengthen the oppression, control, division and exploitation of the working class.

    It will be revealed clearly to workers that the prosperity of the nation is no more than the prosperity of the ruling class of the two Koreas, and the prosperity of working class can be achieved only through the unification of the workers in both Koreas, and the unification of the working class around the world. This will undermine the illusion of nationalism and the illusion of bourgeois democracy, which has been the decisive obstacle to the development of vigorous class struggle.

    What will emerge as an alternative for the workers’ movement when these fantasies are stripped away? A revolutionary awareness of workers’ internationalism, that is, the union of the working class all over the world, including the working class of the two Koreas, and awareness that the fundamental problem lies not in democracy or national division, but in capitalism.

    And finally, there will emerge an awareness of socialism as the only alternative to capitalism. The historical mission for socialists and militant workers in South Korea is to promote this alternative.

    Two Prospects

    We are passing through vile times. Trump, an imperialist gangster, is emerging as a Nobel Peace Prize nominee. Moon Jae-in has referred to Trump as a contributor to peace in Korea, stating, “We can take peace, and Trump can take the Nobel Prize.” It shows the weak position of a South Korean capitalist government, which can gain only temporary peace through its obedience to the U.S. imperialist government.

    In addition, the imperialist powers of the United States, China, Japan and Russia, along with the South and North Korean capitalists, all share a common interest: intensifying the exploitation of the working class on the Korean Peninsula. The rulers of the two Koreas are hiding behind the curtains of inter-Korean exchanges and peace and seeking the prosperity and stabilization of the capitalist system of the two Koreas by collateralizing the sacrifice of the working class of the two Koreas. Will the events proceed according to their wishes?

    There are other prospects. As the tensions between the two Koreas and the threat of war temporarily decrease, it will become clear where the real problems are to all the working class. The capitalist system of exploitation, once hidden behind the fog of democracy and nationalism, will reveal itself more clearly. This will open up possibilities for working-class unity and the chance for joint struggle against the rulers. Thus, we will open the way for socialism on the Korean peninsula.

    Which of the two prospects will come true? Nothing is decided. Only the unity and struggle of the working class will determine the result. In the meantime, South Korean workers are forced into the vanguard of building unity between the workers of the two Koreas. North Korean workers, who have not had class struggle in recent decades and have not had the right to organize independent organizations, need time to play a role.

    First, the Korean working class needs to actively intervene in the current phase with the following demands: “Open up all borders for complete inter-Korean exchange! Ensure that all workers on the Korean Peninsula are free to travel and have the freedom to get a job! Let all South Korean companies that directly or indirectly employ North Korean workers apply South Korea’s minimum-wage policy! Pay all wages to North Korean workers directly! Ensure freedom of thought, freedom of assembly and freedom of speech, both in North and South Korea! Ensure that North Korean workers are free to form trade unions and political parties!”

    The struggle to support the North Korean working class and to promote the unity of the North and South Korean working class is also effective in protecting the rights of the South Korean working class. Unlike the expectation of the South Korean capitalist class that North Korean workers are “South Korean workers without labor unions,” the North Korean working class should rise as workers who struggle with unions, so that the South Korean workers can also resist the pressure of the race to the bottom.

    The barriers of bourgeois democracy and nationalism are rapidly collapsing. The capitalist class seeks to establish a capitalist kingdom on the ruins of nationalism. But, through the struggle for solidarity between the workers of the two Koreas, they can take a precious opportunity to advance to socialism under the banner of total unity of the international working class, staring capitalism in face.

    In these circumstances, we conditionally approve the denuclearization of the Korean peninsula, the end of the war and the peace agreement, with no illusions. We declare, however, that we cannot stop there, but must push forward for internationalism and socialism on the Korean Peninsula!

    Originally posted at Left Voice

  • Race, Capitalism, and Resistance in the United States

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    Introduction and My Experiences

    “It is our duty to fight for our freedom. It is our duty to win. We must love and protect one another other. We have nothing to lose but our chains”.

    You may recognize this as the rallying cry for the Black liberation movement in the United States, as written by Assata Shakur.

    You may also recognize part of it from Marx: “Let the ruling classes tremble at a Communistic revolution. The proletarians have nothing to lose but their chains”.

    I offer these two related quotes to prime our discussion of this new era in the struggle against racism and capital in the United States.

    At this time, U.S. Black and Brown masses are experiencing even more systemic oppression and exploitation through over-policing, state violence, gentrification, lowered health and education outcomes, poverty wages and victimization through increased hate crimes to list a few concerns.

    This struggle is also inextricably linked to the concerns of people of color in the current U.S. immigration crisis.

    These assaults are occurring through detaining, deporting and criminalizing asylum seekers, kidnapping of border-crossing children and their parents, placing them in for-profit detention centers, the recent supreme court upholding the Muslim ban which limits travel for persons of 5 Muslim majority countries, ending temporary protection status for refugees from countries like Haiti, discharging enlisted immigrant military personal who were promised a path to U.S. citizenship through their service and threatening to de-naturalize U.S. citizens.

    Only two weeks ago in San Diego, California, less than twenty miles from the Mexican-CA border, I joined with a coalition of Black and Brown activists and organizers to address the current U.S. immigration crisis. This coalition included African Americans, the Latinx community, Caribbean, African and Middle Eastern immigrant organizers and Palestinian liberation groups. This particular action drew thousands of activists from Oakland, San Francisco, Minneapolis, Los Angeles, San Diego, Arizona, New Mexico and the U.S. South.

    Beyond the marching and activities of the day, we were able to educate each other, theorize and connect our individual projects of Black and Brown liberation, immigrant rights, fighting Islamophobia and renouncing U.S. imperialism abroad to our collective struggle against capital.  If and when we can draw more masses from the current moments of outrage we are experiencing here, we will build bigger movements, harness collective power and be on our way create a new society.

    My experiences in the types of activism described above have been relatively broad-based: In recent years I have participated in several actions, networked, protested, rallied, workshopped, created curriculum, and teach-ins with various Black and Brown-led movements across Southern California. In recent weeks this participation has intensified.

    I also witnessed this collective organizing with Occupy ICE LA, a small group of activists who are camping outside the Federal Detention Building in Los Angeles demanding for the abolishment of the immigration detention empire. Most of the persons participating here in LA are Queer, working class, Brown and Black folks. There is also a significant Native American presence. Without the actions of the brave people in this movement throughout the U.S., their ability to mobilize across cities and their social media activism the call to abolish ICE (U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement) would be unheard of; now abolishing ICE is becoming a liberal establishment campaigning point. Political opportunists might very well be bandwagoning on this hashtag but have yet to understand that the occupiers see their protests as a larger critique of U.S. imperialism and the Prison Industrial Complex as well as the very systems they uphold.

    As with past movements, POC have been looking to uproot capitalism and develop their own theories of liberation, including those that can be found in non-Western epistemologies. The Native American presence at Occupy ICE LA in particular has contributed to this, similar to the way it was done at Standing Rock. In all of the groups I have described, praxis is informed by aspects of classical Marxism, traditional African epistemologies, Native American theories of collectivity and conflict resolution, as well as Black, Brown & Red liberation theories.

    So what about identity politics and identity-first left movements?

    I need to begin by admitting that I currently work with college graduate students in the oft-maligned “identity” course. Almost all universities in the United States have a diversity course requirement for all of their undergraduate and sometimes for graduate students. This course takes on many forms but generally addresses the oppression of minorities, issues of diversity, intersectionality, inclusion and so forth.

    Sociologists Wright, Subedi and Daza note that these types of courses are often designated “low status” in general, and even more so when taught by people of color, queer folks and other minority groups… particularly when those instructors attempt to offer a Marxist analysis of the phenomena being explored. While educators of color do have opportunities to do research and pursue other passions, there is a great reliance on our ‘identities’ when it comes to representing for minorities in workshops. We are relied on to provide the necessary “cache” for the diversity courses that make universities compliant to their accreditation bodies and boards. These same scholars also note that in many ways, folks of color have become the face of this theoretical framing whose other unrelated work and authority is to be constantly challenged both in and out of the university.

    For all of the neoliberal so-called commitment to identity, diversity, multiculturalism etc, in many ways the academy truly does not consider this to be important work, and it is in many ways merely performative. Why even mention the university? The heavy “reliance” on having people of color from social science fields teach these courses has created an interesting opportunity.  While not every young college student will explore Marxism in a meaningful way, many if not most must take that problematic identity course.

    Here I suggest that these courses, for all the ire they bring the left, have great revolutionary potential and that many of us who teach in this area take on this work with that understanding and ethos. For instance, what is generally referred to as classism in these courses amounts to elitism but with the proper framing, a conversation on classism can be used to explore the fundamental organization of society under capitalism.

    Intersectionality theory is often used to understand the compounding consequences of different forms of oppressions. Exploring the intersections of race, gender, sexual orientation, ability etc as systems born out of the material relations shaped by capitalism can move the incompleteness of intersectionality theory to a place of radical criticality (Taylor, 2011).

    Outside of the academy, the current Black and Brown liberation movements have been both disregarded and highly critiqued among the left. Some dismissals of these movements come from our popular progressive leaders. For example, during his 2016 presidential bid, Bernie Sanders initially refused to engage Black Lives Matter resulting in protesters disrupting his rally and demanding to be heard. I attended a local rally where Sanders collaborated with Black Lives Matter-LA to speak on criminal justice reform. Sanders said that up until recently he did not know that of the 2 million people incarcerated in the U.S., roughly ⅕ are in jail for “being poor” and was that he had only recently began to understand what the prison industrial complex meant for Black and Brown folks. He did however claim that he’s now aware and that he was quote “learning fast.” Most recently the same politician finally was able to proclaim, “Abolish ICE” after sustained pushback from activists. I mention Bernie Sanders here only as an example to demonstrate that dismantling any system and indeed uprooting capitalism remains a far-off cry for even the more progressive political class but those in these movements will continue to push their elected officials to take more radical stances.

    We also find dismissals of Black and Brown organizations from some parts of the Marxist left who deconstruct every aspect of these movements, from theory, to organization, to practice, to revolutionary capacity.  Often these organizations are accused of operating from a philosophical wilderness or taking an a la carte approach to Marxist thinking. This sociological waxing on might have potential but I rarely encounter critiques offered alongside a practical path to move us forward in conceptualizing alternatives to our current systems. I also never encounter these same critics at places where those of us are part of these movements do the theorizing, organizing and praxis.

    Identity politics and intersectionality theory indeed have the capacity to be bourgeois. They can reduce struggles to individualized forms or reproduce the same alienated individual under capitalism. These concepts and elements of another stream, postmodern thought might offer theories of resistance without real liberatory models. It may be fair and even useful to critique some of these organizations for their political stances, and who they form alliances with or what we may consider reformist vs revolutionary action. I argue that many are in fact seeking emancipatory structures and are not in a mere state of resistance. The ways in which the leaders of the Black and Brown movements write, think, act and function will not look like those of revolutions past. Keeanga-Yamahtta Taylor very importantly reminds us that, “Marxism should not be conceived of as an unchanging dogma. It is a guide to social revolution and political action, and has been built upon by successive generations of Marxists”.

    I also note that outside of academia, people of color, LGBTQ folk and indeed any vulnerable person who is driven to change his/her/their conditions in U.S. society can nevertheless encounter Marx. They can find Marx in spaces where people are taking action against oppression. Even where these organizations may not provide robust and constant theory, they offer humanizing spaces for masses to come together for the purpose of changing their material conditions.

    Here I must agree with my friend and mentor Lilia Monzo who reminds us that, “While identity politics has been a thorn among many on the radical left due to its ties to a postmodern preoccupation with difference and multiple realities eliminate collective consciousness, …(she) believes we can draw on our multiple identities to create a broader base that challenges all forms of oppression. Organizing across differences has a humanist element that aligns well with the Marx’s new humanism that engenders mutual respect and equality”. (Monzo, 2018).

    What then is the current role of the revolutionary Marxist left in these movements? And what does it mean to be in solidarity with such movements?

    Founder of the Marxist-humanist tradition Raya Dunayevskaya understood the importance of Black liberation movements and those of other minorities noting that “The Black dimension is crucial to the total uprooting of the existing, exploitative, racist, sexist society and the creation of new, truly human foundations”.

    From this understanding we should position ourselves in our organizations to do the theoretical labor that is required to be in critical solidarity with Black and Brown movements. As revolutionary Marxists, we view solidarity as sharing the risks of movements for the purpose of collective consciousness-raising and to create a new society. We also recognize our responsibility in proposing and theorizing “what comes next” when old systems have been overthrown.  It should then follow that our critiques cannot be ones where we question everything and defend nothing. We should have the capacity to offer coherent theory and a measured response to the activities of these movements. Dunayevskaya in her brilliance also understood the contradictions produced in theorizing and organizing noting that, “Philosophy itself does not reach its full articulation until it has discovered the right organizational form” and “without a philosophy of revolution, activism spends itself in mere anti-imperialism and anti-capitalism, without ever revealing what it is for”. Our work here is to maintain this tension in what we offer as we witness how these movements both work out their theory and theorize their work.

    One way to do so which is already occurring is for the Marxist Left to include People of Color in their gatherings, and vise-versa. A more important way is to understand the revolutionary capacity of the forms of expression we are seeing in current Black and Brown movements as our analysis is made. The discussion of non-western pedagogy and thought may produce anxieties for Marxists. Of Dunayevskaya Adrienne Rich writes, “she had the capacity, rare in people learned on Western philosophy and theory-including Marxists-to respect, learn from other kinds of thinking and other modes of expression: those of the third world or ordinary militant women, of working people who are perfectly aware that theirs in alienated labor and know how to say that without political indoctrination.”

    Of the Combahee River Collective a group of Black women revolutionaries in the late 70s- African American studies scholar and Marxist Keeanga-Yamahtta Taylor notes that the women, “not only saw themselves as “radicals” but also considered themselves socialists. They were not acting or writing against Marxism, but, in their own words, they looked to “extend” Marxist analysis to incorporate an understanding of the oppression of Black women.” In the same way, the activities of those in these movements have the same potential. This potential is actually what moves Marx from a mere theory of class struggle to one of real revolution and liberation.

    As we press forward as the radical left, we eschew abstract universals while “recognizing” that particulars can orient us towards the future, i.e. that Marx’s dialectic (rooted in Hegel) offers space for the particulars of race, ethnicity and nationalities to be addressed. At this particular time, Black and Brown folks are on the frontlines of the struggle for liberation from the systematic oppressions of the day.

    As conceptualized by Raya Dunayevskaya, “Blacks and other minorities, youth, women and the working class in fact form the powerful unified resistance to inspire a new society”. Those of us who participate in these current-day movements do not struggle in competition with the class struggle, we struggle together. We struggle for liberation which includes both the universal and the particular, a struggle to forge a new human society for the future, and to seize our freedoms in the present one.

    Thank you.

    Based on a talk at the panel on “Revitalizing Revolutionary Theory and Practice,” Loyola University July 13, 2018, sponsored by Loyola University and the International Marxist-Humanist Organization.

    Originally posted at The International Marxist-Humanist.