Tuesday, November 09, 2004

What Is to Be Done?

A week ago today, America (seemingly, there are still a lot of disenfranchisement issues out there) for the first time legitimately elected George W. Bush as its President. With “the people at (his) back,” Bush and exit polls showing a return of “moral issues,” look ready to steamroll into existence the most radically pro-wealth, antidemocratic and socially regressive agenda (not to mention misguided foreign policy) since Grover Cleveland’s second administration. According to most, but not all of the leading Democrats, punditry (Bob Herbert has been the key exception here) and many usually intelligent leftwing bloggers (those that haven’t been even more idiotically exploring the constitutional possibilities of the secession of American Coastopia), we lost because of the rise of Evangelicals and their concern with moral issues like the “preservation of marriage” and “life.” They argue, that, “gays cost us the election” (subtext: I liked queer people so much better when Queer Eye’s Carson was telling me not to wear blue with black than when they actually demanded their constitutional rights). That, the party must veer rightward to capture the ubiquitous (and monolithic) southern white man, who likes his God and guns but doesn’t like his gays (for more on “gays cost us the election,” see Securityrisk’s brilliant analysis of a few days ago). According to Astrogeist (see his recent “Popular Front” in this forum) this is a misconceived choice. He is wrong—it is a choice, one that is being played out in Congressional caucuses and local party headquarters as we speak—it is just the incorrect one.
Why then did we lose this election (and let the last one become stealable)? The answer is simple. We lost because we didn’t want to win—at least not as much as the other side did (I do not mean to sound preachy, we all deserve blame, myself as much, if not more than, anyone else). We lost because we substituted celebrity endorsements for political organizing. We lost because we thought that our arguments and policies were naturally better—or more to the point, that people’s local and historic context did not and does not matter. We lost because we continue to believe, against all evidence to the contrary, that ‘speaking truth to power,’ has anything to do with politics. We lost because we inevitably gave up on the parts of the country that need us most. We lost, not because we supported gay marriage, but because we did not support it enough. We lost because we’ve been painted as the party of the elite—and it’s true. While we are still less (though not by that much anymore) the party of the capitalist elite than the Republicans, we are the Party of the cultural elite. I do not mean this in a David Brook-ish sense, but rather in a purely political-economic one. Most Americans see no difference between the capitalist and cultural elite (and really, with people like Paris Hilton and Donald Trump blurring the lines, who’s to blame them) and thus (rightly) identify us much more with wealth and privilege than they do the other side. We lost because we refuse to utter the word ‘class,’ and alienate our own financial backers and “responsible capitalist” friends. We lost because inevitably the first people we blamed for our loss are those ‘backwards rednecks out in the scary red states.’ We lost because, over and over again, we substituted posture for politics, style for substance.
What, then, is to be done? First, we must truly want to win. I do not mean want to win because we’ll feel more comfortable with our European friends or because the thought of ‘uneducated and irrational Evangelicals’ controlling the federal government makes us squeamish. No, by wanting to win I mean admitting to ourselves that we must work two, three, four times as hard as the other side—we are on the side of history, but history shows us that we always must work harder, be better organized and more politically sophisticated to have any chance in hell. At the moment we are not doing this, we (I) are sulking, bitching about irrational masses, dreading what the rest of the world thinks of us, despairing the “obvious fact that this is a center-right” country, calling for the secession of the enlightened states of New England and the West Coast. Over the course of the past year, while many of us worked hard and devoted our energies and talents, most (especially myself) did not do enough. Hitherto, most of us thought that the other side’s monopoly on information, pulpit of the federal government and control of political discourse could be overcome with truth, a few days of getting out the vote (again, I blame myself here decidedly more than anyone else) and its own contradictions. We must rid ourselves of the notion that historical and local context does not matter, that given a choice people will always vote their economic interests. People will vote (and organize and revolt) over their economic interests, but only if we are successful in dislodging hundreds of years of efforts, ranging from race-baiting, to Jesus pandering to gay-bashing, to keep people from voting with their interests as a class against another class. This cannot, and should not happen over night, but it can happen much quicker than many think. Only though, if we devote ourselves to the mundane and quotidian efforts of changing and organizing people, person by person, workplace by workplace, town by town, etc.. We must not, at all costs, ever waver on issues of Civil Rights. When people see us selling out those we claim to represent—be they African-Americans, gays and lesbians, women or the poor—how can they be expected to think that they won’t go to the chopping block the minute their issues and rights are deemed ‘unpopular’ by Gallup. We must no longer temper our inclinations to use the term ‘class,” and more importantly, to engage in ‘class warfare.’ Class warfare and conflict is the most potent organizing principle in modern human history, the GOP has been using it for years—it’s time we did too. By doing this, not only can we fight fire with fire, but we can help dislodge the image of the Democratic Party as an eastern elite while simultaneously awakening people’s desire for their own economic justice. To do this though, we must be willing to distance ourselves from, even alienate our “responsible capitalist” friends who love their gay sons and maybe even accept their daughter’s black husband but can’t stand the notion of repealing NAFTA or their janitors engaging in collective bargaining It is these people who should have to make a tough choice whether to remain in the party, not gays, African-Americans, the working-class and the poor. We must never blame our losses on those who will suffer most from them, but rather blame ourselves, ask ourselves what could we have done better. Finally, we must treat politics in this country and the world not as a dinner party conversation, t-shirt slogan or hipster posture, but as the true life and death struggle that it is.

Word of the Day: Mammon

As defined by the OED, mammon is the biblical term that implies the corrupting and injust influence of wealth and the pursuit thereof, usually the result of the work of satan. As in, "The Republican Party is the party of mammon." Or, "the redistribution of wealth from poor to rich is the work of mammon."

I like the possibilities for a good slogan here.

Sunday, November 07, 2004

Dangerously Antidemocratic (and anti-intellectual to boot)

No, this is not about the Bush administration's war on voting rights. Or the dangerously unreported lack of vote counting and voter impediments across the country on Tuesday, or even the idea of holding elections in "most of" Iraq. No, in the same spirit that moves progressives to understand the necessity of criticizing their own country more than others that are perhaps more guilty of human rights violations, etc., this is about a (hopefully) small, but all too vocal section of the Democratic Party and left that I am increasingly ashamed to be associated with.
Over the past 5 days there has been a chorus of anti-democratic rhetoric coming from many corners of the party. Examples include, "those backwards rednecks shouldn't be allowed to vote," "only people with college educations should get the right to vote," "voters should have to pass a test on issue awareness.," etc.. Gee, how come we get painted as elitist?
This rhetoric is some of the most shameful talk coming from the party (though the "gays cost us the election" movement is right up there) since before the scapegoating of "welfare moms" and the Moynihan Report, since, in fact, the party was largely controlled by its southern wing in the pre-New Deal days (see any irony there). Why is it shameful? Besides the obviously oligarchal underpinnings, complete anti-intellectal stance toward why people vote, disavowal of the central principals that make many of us wedded to the party, and its utterly elitist and class determined logic, it is also a classic example of the self-satisfaction of "intellectuals" in this country since the end of class-based political analysis in the early 1970s (for more on this, see Terry Eagleton, Adolph Reed, Teresa Ebert, etc.). Isn't it nice to blame all those backwards and illogical legions in those scary and ignorant red states that we could never, ever live in. I voted for Kerry, I bought a "beat Bush" T-shirt, it can't have anything to do with me and my role in the changing of American political discourse, economy and reality. If (other) Americans just weren't so ignorant I'd feel a lot more comfortable when I travel to Europe. It's a good thing we're raising our kids to shop at Whole Foods instead of Wal-Mart, a least they won't turn out like those hillbillies. Oh wait, my 401(k) is dependent upon Wal-Mart and Sodexho stock? Fuck, oh well, those ignorant yokels don't deserve more than $5.75 an hour anyway.

A Bit of Advice From C. Vann Woodward

C. Vann Woodward, perhaps America's greatest historian, once wrote the following words about the South that seem especially important for progressives to remember today.
"The expression 'Solid South' . . . is of questionable value. . . The solidarity of the region has long been exaggerated. Thus one New Yorker wrote in 1879 (or was that 2004?), 'Find what a Virginian or a Georgian is thinking on any question of national politics and you need not ask what a Louisianan or Texan is thinking." In point of fact though, there is "(N)o love lost betwen the . . . gentry and the . . . commoners, then or now."

Perhaps a little wisdom from the century's most astute observer of the South, perhaps even a little direction for the future mixed in? More to come.