Howard Zinn's The Bomb
By David Swanson
The late Howard Zinn's new book "The Bomb" is a brilliant little dissection of some of the central myths of our militarized society. Those who've read "A Terrible Mistake: The Murder of Frank Olson and the CIA's Secret Cold War Experiments," by H.P. Albarelli Jr. know that this is a year for publishing the stories of horrible things that the United States has done to French towns. In that case, Albarelli, describes the CIA administering LSD to an entire town, with deadly results. In "The Bomb," Zinn describes the U.S. military making its first use of napalm by dropping it all over another French town, burning anyone and anything it touched. Zinn was in one of the planes, taking part in this horrendous crime.
In mid-April 1945, the war in Europe was essentially over. Everyone knew it was ending. There was no military reason (if that's not an oxymoron) to attack the Germans stationed near Royan, France, much less to burn the French men, women, and children in the town to death. The British had already destroyed the town in January, similarly bombing it because of its vicinity to German troops, in what was widely called a tragic mistake. This tragic mistake was rationalized as an inevitable part of war, just as were the horrific firebombings that successfully reached German targets, just as was the later bombing of Royan with napalm. Zinn blames the Supreme Allied Command for seeking to add a "victory" in the final weeks of a war already won. He blames the local military commanders' ambitions. He blames the American Air Force's desire to test a new weapon. And he blames everyone involved -- which must include himself -- for "the most powerful motive of all: the habit of obedience, the universal teaching of all cultures, not to get out of line, not even to think about that which one has not been assigned to think about, the negative motive of not having either a reason or a will to intercede."
When Zinn returned from the war in Europe, he expected to be sent to the war in the Pacific, until he saw and rejoiced at seeing the news of the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima, 65 years ago this August. Only years later did Zinn come to understand the inexcusable crime of the greatest proportions that was the dropping of nuclear bombs in Japan, actions similar in some ways to the final bombing of Royan. The war with Japan was already over, the Japanese seeking peace and willing to surrender. Japan asked only that it be permitted to keep its emperor, a request that was later granted. But, like napalm, the nuclear bombs were weapons that needed testing. The second bomb, dropped on Nagasaki, was a different sort of bomb that also needed testing. President Harry Truman wanted to demonstrate nuclear bombs to the world and especially to Russia. And he wanted to end the war with Japan before Russia became part of it. The horrific form of mass murder he employed was in no way justifiable.
Zinn also goes back to dismantle the mythical reasons the United States was in the war to begin with. The United States, England, and France were imperial powers supporting each other's international aggressions in places like the Philippines. They opposed the same from Germany and Japan, but not aggression itself. Most of America's tin and rubber came from the Southwest Pacific. The United States made clear for years its lack of concern for the Jews being attacked in Germany. It also demonstrated its lack of opposition to racism through its treatment of African Americans and Japanese Americans. Franklin D. Roosevelt described fascist bombing campaigns over civilian areas as "inhuman barbarity" but then did the same on a much larger scale to German cities, which was followed up by the destruction on an unprecedented scale of Hiroshima and Nagasaki -- actions that came after years of dehumanizing the Japanese. Zinn points out that "LIFE magazine showed a picture of a Japanese person burning to death and commented: 'This is the only way.'" Aware that the war would end without any more bombing, and aware that U.S. prisoners of war would be killed by the bomb dropped on Nagasaki, the U.S. military went ahead and dropped the bombs.
Americans allowed these things to be done in their name, just as the Germans and Japanese allowed horrible crimes to be committed in their names. Zinn points out, with his trademark clarity, how the use of the word "we" blends governments together with peoples and serves to equate our own people with our military, while we demonize the people of other lands because of actions by their governments. "The Bomb" suggest a better way to think about such matters and firmly establishes that
--what the U.S. military is doing now, today, parallels the crimes of the past and shares their dishonorable motivations;
--the bad wars have a lot in common with the so-called "good war," about which there was little if anything good;
--Howard Zinn did far more in his life for peace than for war, and more for peace than just about anybody else, certainly more than several Nobel Peace Prize winners.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Anti-torture Activists Meet Former Gitmo Detainees
American Anti-Torture Activists Visit Former Guantánamo Prisoners in Bermuda
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE Monday, July 19, 2010
Contact: Matt Daloisio, 201-264-4424, daloisio@earthlink.net
Luke Hansen, 605-407-2799, lukejhansen@yahoo.com
New York City — Three Christian activists from Witness Against Torture
traveled to Bermuda on Friday, July 16, 2010 to meet with four Uyghur
men who were detained in Guantánamo Bay, Cuba for more than seven years.
(The Uyghur ethnic group primarily resides in western China.) The Bush
administration conceded that the men are not “enemy combatants,” and in
October 2008 a federal judge ordered their release. Eight months later,
four Uyghurs were resettled in Bermuda. Other Uyghur detainees were
resettled elsewhere while five Uyghurs remain in Guantánamo.
The purpose of the delegation to Bermuda is to build relationships with
the Uyghurs, seek their counsel concerning further advocacy for both
current and former Guantánamo prisoners, and to bring a message of
atonement and reconciliation from the American people to the former
prisoners. “In the United States, public discourse on Guantánamo is
mainly informed by various perspectives from the military, politicians
and the U.S. public,” says John Bambrick, a Chicago youth minister. “We
have come to Bermuda to seek the perspectives of men who have
experienced Guantánamo firsthand.”
“The Uyghur men in Bermuda, like us, are people of faith,” says Jeremy
Kirk, a Ph.D. student in social ethics at Union Theological Seminary in
New York City. “We are practicing our Christian faith by seeking
connection with our Muslim brothers, in whose detention and abuse we
have participated as U.S. taxpayers and citizens.”
On Saturday, the three activists visited the Uyghurs’ apartment, shared
a meal and swam in the ocean with the former prisoners, and swapped
stories about family and religious faith. The Uyghur men shared some of
their experiences of being in Guantánamo and discussed their gratitude
for and challenges associated with resettlement. (They are very grateful
to the Bermudan Government’s support and hospitality.) On Sunday, the
activists will speak with the Uyghurs in further detail about their
experiences at Guantánamo and the conditions currently faced by the men
who remain in detention. Luke Hansen, who is studying to become a Jesuit
priest, states, “One of the many things that has impressed me in our
conversations with these men, whom the Bush administration repeatedly
labeled as the ‘worst of the worst,’ is their gentleness and compassion.
While these men fiercely criticize the rationalizations behind their
detention, they have expressed no resentment towards their captors, but
rather have focused solely on the imperative to release the remaining
Uyghur detainees at Guantánamo.”
The delegation to Bermuda included:
John Bambrick, 31, works as a Catholic youth minister in Chicago and is
a member of the White Rose Catholic Worker. He earned his B.A. at
Marquette University in 2001 and his M.A. in Pastoral Studies from
Loyola University Chicago in 2008.
Luke Hansen, S.J., 28, is part of the Wisconsin Province of the Society
of Jesus (Jesuits). In May, Luke earned an M.A. at Loyola University
Chicago. His thesis is titled, “Countering Terrorism with Justice: A
Catholic Response to Policies of Indefinite Detention in the Fight
Against Terrorism.”
Jeremy Kirk, 32, is a Ph.D. student in social ethics at Union
Theological Seminary in New York City, where he studies interfaith
response to crisis and liberation theology. He has worked as an
organizer with various environmental and human rights groups.
All three are members of Witness Against Torture, a grassroots
organization that formed in December 2005 when twenty-five activists
walked to Guantánamo to visit the prisoners and protest torture
policies. Since then, the group has engaged in public education,
lobbying, demonstrations, and nonviolent civil disobedience.
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE Monday, July 19, 2010
Contact: Matt Daloisio, 201-264-4424, daloisio@earthlink.net
Luke Hansen, 605-407-2799, lukejhansen@yahoo.com
New York City — Three Christian activists from Witness Against Torture
traveled to Bermuda on Friday, July 16, 2010 to meet with four Uyghur
men who were detained in Guantánamo Bay, Cuba for more than seven years.
(The Uyghur ethnic group primarily resides in western China.) The Bush
administration conceded that the men are not “enemy combatants,” and in
October 2008 a federal judge ordered their release. Eight months later,
four Uyghurs were resettled in Bermuda. Other Uyghur detainees were
resettled elsewhere while five Uyghurs remain in Guantánamo.
The purpose of the delegation to Bermuda is to build relationships with
the Uyghurs, seek their counsel concerning further advocacy for both
current and former Guantánamo prisoners, and to bring a message of
atonement and reconciliation from the American people to the former
prisoners. “In the United States, public discourse on Guantánamo is
mainly informed by various perspectives from the military, politicians
and the U.S. public,” says John Bambrick, a Chicago youth minister. “We
have come to Bermuda to seek the perspectives of men who have
experienced Guantánamo firsthand.”
“The Uyghur men in Bermuda, like us, are people of faith,” says Jeremy
Kirk, a Ph.D. student in social ethics at Union Theological Seminary in
New York City. “We are practicing our Christian faith by seeking
connection with our Muslim brothers, in whose detention and abuse we
have participated as U.S. taxpayers and citizens.”
On Saturday, the three activists visited the Uyghurs’ apartment, shared
a meal and swam in the ocean with the former prisoners, and swapped
stories about family and religious faith. The Uyghur men shared some of
their experiences of being in Guantánamo and discussed their gratitude
for and challenges associated with resettlement. (They are very grateful
to the Bermudan Government’s support and hospitality.) On Sunday, the
activists will speak with the Uyghurs in further detail about their
experiences at Guantánamo and the conditions currently faced by the men
who remain in detention. Luke Hansen, who is studying to become a Jesuit
priest, states, “One of the many things that has impressed me in our
conversations with these men, whom the Bush administration repeatedly
labeled as the ‘worst of the worst,’ is their gentleness and compassion.
While these men fiercely criticize the rationalizations behind their
detention, they have expressed no resentment towards their captors, but
rather have focused solely on the imperative to release the remaining
Uyghur detainees at Guantánamo.”
The delegation to Bermuda included:
John Bambrick, 31, works as a Catholic youth minister in Chicago and is
a member of the White Rose Catholic Worker. He earned his B.A. at
Marquette University in 2001 and his M.A. in Pastoral Studies from
Loyola University Chicago in 2008.
Luke Hansen, S.J., 28, is part of the Wisconsin Province of the Society
of Jesus (Jesuits). In May, Luke earned an M.A. at Loyola University
Chicago. His thesis is titled, “Countering Terrorism with Justice: A
Catholic Response to Policies of Indefinite Detention in the Fight
Against Terrorism.”
Jeremy Kirk, 32, is a Ph.D. student in social ethics at Union
Theological Seminary in New York City, where he studies interfaith
response to crisis and liberation theology. He has worked as an
organizer with various environmental and human rights groups.
All three are members of Witness Against Torture, a grassroots
organization that formed in December 2005 when twenty-five activists
walked to Guantánamo to visit the prisoners and protest torture
policies. Since then, the group has engaged in public education,
lobbying, demonstrations, and nonviolent civil disobedience.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Women Nobel Peace Prize Winners
2004, The Nobel Peace Prize
Wangari Muta Maathai
2003, The Nobel Peace Prize
Shirin Ebadi
1997, The Nobel Peace Prize
Jody Williams
1992, The Nobel Peace Prize
Rigoberta Menchú Tum
1991, The Nobel Peace Prize
Aung San Suu Kyi
1982, The Nobel Peace Prize
Alva Myrdal
1979, The Nobel Peace Prize
Mother Teresa
1976, The Nobel Peace Prize
Betty Williams
1976, The Nobel Peace Prize
Mairead Corrigan
1946, The Nobel Peace Prize
Emily Greene Balch
1931, The Nobel Peace Prize
Jane Addams
1905, The Nobel Peace Prize
Baroness Bertha Sophie Felicita von Suttner, née Countess Kinsky von Chinic und Tettau
Wangari Muta Maathai
2003, The Nobel Peace Prize
Shirin Ebadi
1997, The Nobel Peace Prize
Jody Williams
1992, The Nobel Peace Prize
Rigoberta Menchú Tum
1991, The Nobel Peace Prize
Aung San Suu Kyi
1982, The Nobel Peace Prize
Alva Myrdal
1979, The Nobel Peace Prize
Mother Teresa
1976, The Nobel Peace Prize
Betty Williams
1976, The Nobel Peace Prize
Mairead Corrigan
1946, The Nobel Peace Prize
Emily Greene Balch
1931, The Nobel Peace Prize
Jane Addams
1905, The Nobel Peace Prize
Baroness Bertha Sophie Felicita von Suttner, née Countess Kinsky von Chinic und Tettau
Thursday, July 8, 2010
4th of July: Independence or Explosions?
Is it About Independence, Or Explosions?
I sat on the stone wall that lines Druid Lake tonight and watched Baltimore destroyed by bombs. I watched tracers light up the sky, followed by the deep pulse of distant explosions.
I watched huge clouds of smoke rise from downtown, escaping from the flaming buildings. I saw explosions as far as Dundalk, Curtis Bay, and Morgan State. I saw light emerging from deep in the West Side, illuminating the trees that line the park.
I saw the Belvedere Hotel hit by a series of missiles, a huge flame bursting out the East wall. I remembered when the bartender there took me and a friend on the roof to see the best 360 degree view I’d ever seen of the city. I wondered if he would survive the attack.
Then a huge bomb fell into the apartment building at Howard and 28th, sending a large cloud of smoke into the air. I could only imagine the horrors inside as elderly residents tried to escape the flames. I watched cars crossing the 29th St. bridge fired on by helicopters that then continued on their way into Remington. I watched mortar fire land in the houses of Reservoir Hill that face the park, and heard the sounds of gunfire from the streets behind them.
It was a total nightmare, something I never wanted to experience. Thankfully, it was mostly in my head. It was the Fourth of July, and celebratory explosions were popping off all over the city.
But I wasn’t celebrating, I was mourning. The fireworks reminded me not of 1776 or 1812, but of 2003, when I watched an almost identical scene on the TV news. I thought not of British Redcoats, but of U.S. Soldiers and Marines. I was watching a re-run of Shock And Awe, the massive bombing campaign the U.S. unleashed on Baghdad on March 19th, 2003.
I texted a friend, a former National Guardsman who participated in the initial invasion of Iraq. I told him I was thinking of Baghdad, watching the city light up, and I asked how he was. He said he was “in hiding”, not interested in being taken back to that place again, at least, not this year.
I thought how many friends of mine, Iraq and Afghanistan war veterans who have joined the ranks of the anti-war movement, were in hiding too, taking pills to calm their shattered nerves, reasoning with their shame and anger at the roles they played in occupying these countries.
I thought of my childhood friend Austin Koth, who deployed to Baghdad in 2006 with an Explosive Ordnance Disposal unit. I imagined which exploding firework might best match the sound of the Improvised Explosive Device (IED) that took his life two weeks before he would have come home. Then I heard it.
I thought about the millions of Iraqi and Afghan citizens whose lives have been turned upside down by the “Global War on Terror”. I felt so sad and sorry to the Iraqi people for the actions of my government, a government that wouldn’t budge no matter how unpopular the invasion was or how many people voiced opposition to it.
I wondered how I could explain that to those who lost limbs when our bombs came crashing into their neighborhoods because one of their neighbors may or may not have posed a threat to U.S. forces. I thought about the brave people who picked up weapons to defend their communities from the invasion of my government.
I thought “what if Baltimore was really being bombed right now?” I wondered what I would actually feel like, what it means to watch your home, the home of so many friends and family, crumble under the bombs of a foreign government. I wondered what I would do and what my friends would do. Would I go out into the chaos to look for survivors? Would I stay far away hoping to save my own life? Would I fight? Would I organize others to fight with me?
These thoughts paralyzed me for an hour as I sat and stared out into the city. I was among families having cookouts, all the while a simulation of a major bombing campaign lit up my city’s skyline.
All I could think of was Baghdad.
It is amazing that we celebrate our Independence Day in such a way. A total glorification of war. A sensory overload of violence. After all, our fireworks are meant to imitate the “bombs bursting in air” which helped win the Independence War against Britain.
I wonder how many take time on this day to consider the Independence movement that led to the creation of the United States. I wonder if they think about other Independence movements, from India to Algeria to Mozambique, that fought similar struggles against colonialism.
I wonder if any note the parallels between British policy in colonial America and U.S. policy in Iraq. After all, it was the British who set the stage for our presence when they invaded and occupied Iraq in 1921.
And the Iraqi resistance that arose after U.S. Administrator of Iraq Paul Bremer set drastic and far-reaching economic decrees in 2004 isn’t that different from events in our own history. American Patriots fought back after similar changes were initiated by the British in the 1760s and 70s. They rioted against the Stamp Act and dumped Tea in the Boston Harbor to protest British economic policies.
Then they picked up guns.
But political history aside, a deeper question remains; why the glorification of war? Is it to remind ourselves of the glory of victory, to remember those who suffered and died to free the United States from Britain? Is it to turn war into a celebration, to be enjoyed from afar, knowing we will probably never see it?
I tend to believe the latter, that the fireworks celebration is not about Independence, it’s about explosions. It’s about war. It’s a yearly mass-experience that reminds us that we live in a culture of violence and that we are safe enough from war that we can celebrate it from a detached position. But it’s not a conspiracy by some branch of government or some multinational fireworks company, it’s a cultural practice, an unwritten consensus.
If we took time to consider the real impacts that war and mass violence have across the world, I don’t think we would be able to stomach all the hot dogs. I think we would start to feel the weight of so many lives that were taken early by the crippling shards of shrapnel bursting out of bombs and missiles dropped by our military around the world.
And if we all considered what we would do if we were on the receiving end of such an assault, if we saw the bombing of Baltimore the way i did tonight, maybe we would feel the common humanity that binds us to those in Iraq, Afghanistan, and countless other countries that live the results of our government’s aggressive foreign policy.
Perhaps then we could start celebrating Independence Day in a way that honors, educates about, or supports those fighting similar battles today, even if they are against our own government’s policies.
- Ryan Harvey is a musician and organizer with Civilian Soldier Alliance. Check out his blog at http://voiceshakes.wordpress.com/.
I sat on the stone wall that lines Druid Lake tonight and watched Baltimore destroyed by bombs. I watched tracers light up the sky, followed by the deep pulse of distant explosions.
I watched huge clouds of smoke rise from downtown, escaping from the flaming buildings. I saw explosions as far as Dundalk, Curtis Bay, and Morgan State. I saw light emerging from deep in the West Side, illuminating the trees that line the park.
I saw the Belvedere Hotel hit by a series of missiles, a huge flame bursting out the East wall. I remembered when the bartender there took me and a friend on the roof to see the best 360 degree view I’d ever seen of the city. I wondered if he would survive the attack.
Then a huge bomb fell into the apartment building at Howard and 28th, sending a large cloud of smoke into the air. I could only imagine the horrors inside as elderly residents tried to escape the flames. I watched cars crossing the 29th St. bridge fired on by helicopters that then continued on their way into Remington. I watched mortar fire land in the houses of Reservoir Hill that face the park, and heard the sounds of gunfire from the streets behind them.
It was a total nightmare, something I never wanted to experience. Thankfully, it was mostly in my head. It was the Fourth of July, and celebratory explosions were popping off all over the city.
But I wasn’t celebrating, I was mourning. The fireworks reminded me not of 1776 or 1812, but of 2003, when I watched an almost identical scene on the TV news. I thought not of British Redcoats, but of U.S. Soldiers and Marines. I was watching a re-run of Shock And Awe, the massive bombing campaign the U.S. unleashed on Baghdad on March 19th, 2003.
I texted a friend, a former National Guardsman who participated in the initial invasion of Iraq. I told him I was thinking of Baghdad, watching the city light up, and I asked how he was. He said he was “in hiding”, not interested in being taken back to that place again, at least, not this year.
I thought how many friends of mine, Iraq and Afghanistan war veterans who have joined the ranks of the anti-war movement, were in hiding too, taking pills to calm their shattered nerves, reasoning with their shame and anger at the roles they played in occupying these countries.
I thought of my childhood friend Austin Koth, who deployed to Baghdad in 2006 with an Explosive Ordnance Disposal unit. I imagined which exploding firework might best match the sound of the Improvised Explosive Device (IED) that took his life two weeks before he would have come home. Then I heard it.
I thought about the millions of Iraqi and Afghan citizens whose lives have been turned upside down by the “Global War on Terror”. I felt so sad and sorry to the Iraqi people for the actions of my government, a government that wouldn’t budge no matter how unpopular the invasion was or how many people voiced opposition to it.
I wondered how I could explain that to those who lost limbs when our bombs came crashing into their neighborhoods because one of their neighbors may or may not have posed a threat to U.S. forces. I thought about the brave people who picked up weapons to defend their communities from the invasion of my government.
I thought “what if Baltimore was really being bombed right now?” I wondered what I would actually feel like, what it means to watch your home, the home of so many friends and family, crumble under the bombs of a foreign government. I wondered what I would do and what my friends would do. Would I go out into the chaos to look for survivors? Would I stay far away hoping to save my own life? Would I fight? Would I organize others to fight with me?
These thoughts paralyzed me for an hour as I sat and stared out into the city. I was among families having cookouts, all the while a simulation of a major bombing campaign lit up my city’s skyline.
All I could think of was Baghdad.
It is amazing that we celebrate our Independence Day in such a way. A total glorification of war. A sensory overload of violence. After all, our fireworks are meant to imitate the “bombs bursting in air” which helped win the Independence War against Britain.
I wonder how many take time on this day to consider the Independence movement that led to the creation of the United States. I wonder if they think about other Independence movements, from India to Algeria to Mozambique, that fought similar struggles against colonialism.
I wonder if any note the parallels between British policy in colonial America and U.S. policy in Iraq. After all, it was the British who set the stage for our presence when they invaded and occupied Iraq in 1921.
And the Iraqi resistance that arose after U.S. Administrator of Iraq Paul Bremer set drastic and far-reaching economic decrees in 2004 isn’t that different from events in our own history. American Patriots fought back after similar changes were initiated by the British in the 1760s and 70s. They rioted against the Stamp Act and dumped Tea in the Boston Harbor to protest British economic policies.
Then they picked up guns.
But political history aside, a deeper question remains; why the glorification of war? Is it to remind ourselves of the glory of victory, to remember those who suffered and died to free the United States from Britain? Is it to turn war into a celebration, to be enjoyed from afar, knowing we will probably never see it?
I tend to believe the latter, that the fireworks celebration is not about Independence, it’s about explosions. It’s about war. It’s a yearly mass-experience that reminds us that we live in a culture of violence and that we are safe enough from war that we can celebrate it from a detached position. But it’s not a conspiracy by some branch of government or some multinational fireworks company, it’s a cultural practice, an unwritten consensus.
If we took time to consider the real impacts that war and mass violence have across the world, I don’t think we would be able to stomach all the hot dogs. I think we would start to feel the weight of so many lives that were taken early by the crippling shards of shrapnel bursting out of bombs and missiles dropped by our military around the world.
And if we all considered what we would do if we were on the receiving end of such an assault, if we saw the bombing of Baltimore the way i did tonight, maybe we would feel the common humanity that binds us to those in Iraq, Afghanistan, and countless other countries that live the results of our government’s aggressive foreign policy.
Perhaps then we could start celebrating Independence Day in a way that honors, educates about, or supports those fighting similar battles today, even if they are against our own government’s policies.
- Ryan Harvey is a musician and organizer with Civilian Soldier Alliance. Check out his blog at http://voiceshakes.wordpress.com/.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Guilt, Necessity, and Solidarity
Guilt, Necessity, and Solidarity
I was out with a friend last night talking about the usual oppression and societal injustice when she said that she liked how I wasn’t a guilty white man. This made me consider the difference between acting out of guilt, necessity, and solidarity. As far as I’m concerned, these are the three main motivators for any sort of social justice or humanitarian work. I do not think they overlap because they depend greatly on the activist’s position in society and view of that society.
Guilt, in my mind, is the weakest of the three motivators. Guilt is ultimately selfish. It does not serve the needs of the victim, but of the perpetrator. Let’s say my father used to be a Klansman, and I decided that once reaching adulthood and understanding the legacy I was inheriting that I would donate 15 percent of my salary to black charities. This would not be serving the true needs of the victims in this situation because I did not ask the victims what their needs were. I did not seek out the families that were directly harmed by my father, and I certainly didn’t engage in anti-racist work in my own family and larger community. I merely sent money to assuage my guilt.
Perhaps a more compelling example is progressive white supporters of President Obama. I can’t help but wonder if they really support his policies or if they are just too afraid, out of guilt, to criticize a black president. They might also be too afraid, out of insecurity, to criticize a man who is ultimately doing more for their community than he is for most blacks. But for the sake of argument, let’s just say that they do care about the larger black community in the United States. Is it not hypocrisy, perhaps even racism, to refuse to criticize a black man for pushing the same policies as his white, despised predecessor? Do they really think their reverence for a black man in the White House is going to make up for centuries of slavery, murder, rape, discrimination, imprisonment, and exploitation?
People who identity as oppressed — whether they be impoverished, of color, homosexual, or disabled — generally engage in so-called activism out of necessity. They are not in a position to simply don a business suit and join the ranks of the privileged. Many of these individuals did not have to learn about racism, classicism, sexism, or any other –ism in college; they experienced them firsthand. If they are to live healthy, safe, and equitable lives in the United States of America, they are obliged to organize or agitate in some way. They do not change causes the way people change clothes — as some white progressive-types do. They do not have this luxury.
Solidarity, I would argue, is the proper role for the privileged in relation to the oppressed or the underprivileged. This is not an easy concept to explain. It must be felt by the privileged person on a deeper level than guilt. The privileged person must understand that his personal suffering or forbearance means little to the underprivileged person’s liberation. He or she must understand that there is an oppressive system at work here that manipulates the oppressed and the oppressor alike and that the liberation of one is irrevocably tied to the liberation of the other. We, as the privileged, must not attempt to simply reach out and pull our underprivileged brothers and sisters up to our level. This is not enough, for we must also jump down from our pedestals. We must ultimately join them in the middle, for it is self-evident that the underprivileged becoming “white,” or privileged themselves, is not the answer. It is the privilege itself that separates us from each other and makes peace and justice impossible; it is not the color or even the centuries of exploitation.
I was out with a friend last night talking about the usual oppression and societal injustice when she said that she liked how I wasn’t a guilty white man. This made me consider the difference between acting out of guilt, necessity, and solidarity. As far as I’m concerned, these are the three main motivators for any sort of social justice or humanitarian work. I do not think they overlap because they depend greatly on the activist’s position in society and view of that society.
Guilt, in my mind, is the weakest of the three motivators. Guilt is ultimately selfish. It does not serve the needs of the victim, but of the perpetrator. Let’s say my father used to be a Klansman, and I decided that once reaching adulthood and understanding the legacy I was inheriting that I would donate 15 percent of my salary to black charities. This would not be serving the true needs of the victims in this situation because I did not ask the victims what their needs were. I did not seek out the families that were directly harmed by my father, and I certainly didn’t engage in anti-racist work in my own family and larger community. I merely sent money to assuage my guilt.
Perhaps a more compelling example is progressive white supporters of President Obama. I can’t help but wonder if they really support his policies or if they are just too afraid, out of guilt, to criticize a black president. They might also be too afraid, out of insecurity, to criticize a man who is ultimately doing more for their community than he is for most blacks. But for the sake of argument, let’s just say that they do care about the larger black community in the United States. Is it not hypocrisy, perhaps even racism, to refuse to criticize a black man for pushing the same policies as his white, despised predecessor? Do they really think their reverence for a black man in the White House is going to make up for centuries of slavery, murder, rape, discrimination, imprisonment, and exploitation?
People who identity as oppressed — whether they be impoverished, of color, homosexual, or disabled — generally engage in so-called activism out of necessity. They are not in a position to simply don a business suit and join the ranks of the privileged. Many of these individuals did not have to learn about racism, classicism, sexism, or any other –ism in college; they experienced them firsthand. If they are to live healthy, safe, and equitable lives in the United States of America, they are obliged to organize or agitate in some way. They do not change causes the way people change clothes — as some white progressive-types do. They do not have this luxury.
Solidarity, I would argue, is the proper role for the privileged in relation to the oppressed or the underprivileged. This is not an easy concept to explain. It must be felt by the privileged person on a deeper level than guilt. The privileged person must understand that his personal suffering or forbearance means little to the underprivileged person’s liberation. He or she must understand that there is an oppressive system at work here that manipulates the oppressed and the oppressor alike and that the liberation of one is irrevocably tied to the liberation of the other. We, as the privileged, must not attempt to simply reach out and pull our underprivileged brothers and sisters up to our level. This is not enough, for we must also jump down from our pedestals. We must ultimately join them in the middle, for it is self-evident that the underprivileged becoming “white,” or privileged themselves, is not the answer. It is the privilege itself that separates us from each other and makes peace and justice impossible; it is not the color or even the centuries of exploitation.
Monday, July 5, 2010
The Peace Movement's Progress
The Peace Movement's Progress
By David Swanson
The peace movement has made significant progress in the United States since its low point of late 2008, and just about everything anyone in it has done has been a contribution. If everyone keeps doing
what they're doing, and more of it, we might just end some wars,
eventually. But I think some techniques are working better than others,
and that pursuing the most strategic approaches would make victory
likelier sooner and longer-lasting when it comes.
I think the peace movement bottomed out in late 2008 for two reasons above all others. One was the election of a Democratic president. I wasn't around for Wilson, FDR, or LBJ, but my impression is that
electing Democratic presidents is often bad news for both peace and,
paradoxically, for the peace movement. But both can eventually recover.
The other reason was the unconstitutional and uncertain treaty that
Bush and Maliki created, requiring the complete end of the Iraq
occupation following three more years of it. The agreement actually
made this delay a year and a half, rather than three years, by making
the treaty breakable through a vote of the Iraqi people (the outcome of
which could not be doubted). However, that was denied to them. While
the US peace movement had always demanded an IMMEDIATE end to the war
in Iraq, and might have been expected to go on doing so, the
combination of a written deadline and the ascension of a Democrat to
the throne proved deadly, even as the occupation of Iraq continued and
that in Afghanistan escalated.
We now have a larger and more costly military, and larger and more costly wars -- costly in financial terms -- than when Bush was president. We have more troops in the field, more mercenaries in the
field, bases in more nations, a heightened use of drone strikes into
additional countries, new secret military forces in still other
nations, and greater war powers assumed by the president, including the
power to assassinate Americans, the more firmly established powers to
imprison without charge, rendition, and torture, and heightened powers
of secrecy.
So, why do I say we've made progress? Well, I said we've made progress from where we were in late 2008, at which point the downward trends I've just mentioned could be foreseen. We'd just elected a
president promising a larger military and an escalation in Afghanistan.
Since then, the U.S. public has turned dramatically from supporting to
opposing the war in Afghanistan and the President's handling of it. The
planned escalation in Kandahar has failed to get off the ground. Every
official governmental and non-governmental study has deemed the effort
in Afghanistan hopeless, pointless, catastrophic, or criminal. High
ranking whistleblowers have spoken out. The Pentagon has resorted to
wild claims of mineral wealth, as it flails about for new ways to
justify the war. And the blame game, surrounding the eventual
withdrawal, has begun; the general in charge has been dismissed. In
addition, the withdrawal dates that people associate with Iraq and
Afghanistan (out of Iraq by the end of 2011, beginning to get out of
Afghanistan by July 2011) are closer, meaning that outrage at their
violation is closer.
At the same time, counter-recruitment efforts in the United States have begun achieving real successes, forcing the closure of the Army Experience Center in Pennsylvania and denying recruiters students' test
data in Maryland. US troops have begun refusing illegal orders in
greater numbers, and a culture of troop resistance coffee houses near
US bases has been reborn. The economic slide in the United States,
while in no sense desirable, and hurting the ability of some of us to
be engaged in the movement, is opening people's eyes to the impact of
the war economy on the peace economy, and allowing coalitions to be
formed of groups that want to defund wars and the military plus groups
that want to fund everything else: healthcare, schools, jobs, green
energy, etc. Resolutions against war spending are being passed by
political parties, towns, cities, and labor councils. Cities are
putting cost of war counters on city hall. A coalition of peace and
social justice groups has been holding monthly vigils at congress
members' local offices, with significant local impact in dozens of
districts, even if less noticeable nationally than big annual marches.
During the past year and a half, numerous activist organizations and somewhat independent media outlets have shifted from supporting the war in Afghanistan to opposing it. By opposing it, they are not necessarily
lobbying to defund it or taking any other steps to resist it or educate
people about it, but they are officially opposed to it, meaning that
they are our untapped potential waiting to be put into action. And
numerous other groups, old and news, have to various degrees and in
various ways become active, opposing the wars, each in their own way,
and contributing to these kinds of results:
May-June 2009 - 51 Democrats vote against war funding when it's guaranteed to pass; 32 vote against it when it might fail.
Late June 2009 - 131 Democrats vote for the Pentagon to produce an exit strategy, any exit strategy, for Afghanistan.
March 2010 - 65 Democrats vote to end the war in Afghanistan by the end of 2010.
July 1, 2010 - Well over 40, at least 51, and possibly 90 or more (up from 32) Democrats refuse to vote for Afghan war escalation funding, even with pleasant unrelated legislation attached, forcing
House leadership to delay the bill for months and then maneuver it to
passage without a vote.
July 1, 2010 - 38 Democrats (up from 32, but similarly limited to the number Speaker Nancy Pelosi would allow -- see below) vote against the Rule that effectively allows the funding bill to go forward toward
becoming law.
July 1, 2010 - 25 congress members vote to cut off all funding for the war in Afghanistan. 100 vote to fund only withdrawal. And 162 (up from 131, and for a strengthened amendment) vote to require the
president to present Congress with a National Intelligence Estimate on
Afghanistan and a withdrawal plan and completion date, and to require
that Congress vote by July 2011 "if it wants to allow the obligation
and expenditure of funds for Afghanistan in a manner that is not
consistent with the president's announced policy of December 2009 to
begin to drawdown troops by July 2011."
Two separate events in 2009 were combined into one in 2010. First, the funding vote was held in 2009, and the peace movement pushed for No votes hard. The White House and the House leadership were forced to
bribe and threaten congress members for weeks to keep the Democratic No
votes down to 32. Had they reached 39 the bill would have (at least in
its current form) failed, due to all the Republicans voting No because
of an unrelated measure packaged into it. It was easy to see that we
could get to 39 by the next "emergency" supplemental bill if we wanted
to work at it. The second event in 2009 was the vote on Congressman Jim
McGovern's proposal for an exit timetable. The peace movement worked
hard for this and won 131 Yes votes. This generated two separate
stories, and the two agendas did not come into conflict with each other.
In 2010 it was a different story. Congressman McGovern made his proposal for an exit timetable an amendment to the funding bill. So, some peace groups promoted yes votes on that amendment, some pushed for
No votes on the funding, and others did both. And the pressure for No
votes on the funding was felt by congress members whose constituents
were organized and active. Rep. Chellie Pingree was pressured hard in
Maine, and began to speak out for stopping the funding. She told
General Petraeus in a hearing that he was making us all less safe (even
if she did thank him three times for that "service"). And Congressman
Alan Grayson, in a move I don't recall ever having seen before, set up
a website for people to use in lobbying his colleagues to vote No on
the funding.
If the amendments had been held back for a later date and a second event, then what happened on July 1, 2010, might have looked a little different. Progressive congress members might not have accepted a
byzantine procedural maneuver that allowed the war escalation funding
to be sent back to the Senate without the House actually voting on it.
Or if such a procedure was tried, more of them might have voted No on
the Rule allowing it. Instead, almost all the committed war opponents
voted for the Rule that moved the funding along, with the double excuse
that it was only a Rule vote, not a real true policy vote, and they
were voting for it in order to have a chance to vote for good
amendments.
And what would have happened next, if this procedure had been rejected? I can't be sure, because I don't know every crazy trick to be found in House parliamentary precedents, but one distinct possibility
is that the Democratic leadership would have been forced to pass the
war escalation funding on its own with mostly Republican votes, and to
pass useful peaceful spending on its own with mostly Democratic votes.
The war funding would then have sailed through the Senate and been
signed by the President. The non-destructive spending would then have
passed the Senate if its leadership had fought hard enough and been
willing if necessary to throw out the filibuster rule. McGovern's exit
strategy bill could then have garnered its 162 votes the next week or
next month instead of being buried in the news of late-night funding
passage.
Why would this result have been any better than what we got?
Well, for one thing, it would have informed people that there was a war and that the war was being funded. My local right-wing Democrat voted No on the Rule and Yes on McGovern's amendment, but he voted No
on the Rule because of all sorts of other nonsense added into it. The
local media reported on his objection to the budgetary procedures
involved and never reported in any way that there had been any vote in
Congress related to the war. As far as my neighbors know, the wars fund
themselves.
Secondly, it would have identified who was pro-war and who was anti-war by their votes. Local activists in my town spent months demanding that our representative take a position on the war. He has
yet to do so, and if he can avoid it he never will. We can't hold
people accountable unless we know what they've done. Right now some
congress members are claiming they opposed the war by voting against
the Rule while others are claiming they opposed the war by voting for
it.
Thirdly, forcing the Democratic leadership to line up with the Republican caucus and against most of the Democrats on war votes would be educational for people who are unaware that their chief opponent
when lobbying their local Democrat for peace and justice is the
leadership of his or her party.
Fourth, the demand to stop funding the war comes from people. It's a demand we take to Congress, not one we pick up from Congress and try to explain to others. We can form huge coalitions with economic justice
groups around the demand to shift our spending from wars to jobs and
housing. We can't organize two kids and a dog from outside the peace
movement to join a coalition for an unspecified non-binding exit
timetable or a new National Intelligence Estimate. That doesn't mean
these are counterproductive demands. I would certainly support them on
any day of the year other than the day Congress is voting to fund the
wars. The problem is when one useful campaign unnecessarily interferes
with another.
Fifth, if we think of Congress as sending messages to the president who will make all the decisions as "the decider," I would rather have two events and send two messages. And the strongest message I can
imagine is this: "A growing number of House members have committed to
voting against any more war funding, no matter how much lipstick is
applied to it, and this group includes the majority of your party's
caucus, and people are organizing to keep these members in office and
vote the others out". Other, weaker messages could still be sent, and
sent more strongly, on another day.
Sixth, if we think of Congress as potentially resembling the creature defined in Article I of the U.S. Constitution, as capable of actual action, not just rhetoric, then our goal becomes building toward
the day on which the House actually refuses any more funding for a war
it opposes. In order to think this way, we have to stop thinking
exclusively in terms of passing bills that then must pass the Senate
and the President. We have to also be able to think in terms of
blocking the passage of bills. For this we only need the House. We can
focus our attention on the House and stop petitioning the Senate and
the President. This gives us a lot more resources. Plus, we don't have
to antagonize president worshippers. Instead we can focus our demands
on House members. And we can insist on other forms of action from
Congress as well, such as oversight of wars involving subpoenas and
their enforcement and the threat of high level impeachments. The
strongest message a Congress can send to a president is, with all due
respect to many of my friends, not "We wish you would end the war some
day," but "We will expose any war crimes, and we hold the power of the
purse."
Seventh, while our ideal must be ending the current wars in whatever combination of approaches is most likely to succeed the fastest, we should also take an interest in ending wars in a manner that helps
prevent the next ones from beginning immediately. This means focusing
on the funding, and moving from the defunding of wars to the defunding
of the military and the empire of foreign bases, shrinking the machine
that creates the wars. And it means taking the power to initiate or
escalate or indefinitely continue wars away from presidents.
The peace movement in the US, organizationally, and much to its disadvantage, has its headquarters in Washington, D.C. We are, consequently, often instructed in the need to relate to congress
members on their terms, using their language, etc. One good friend of
mine is quite energized with the need to instruct us that the recent
vote on a Rule did not technically fund the war escalation, even while
readily admitting that the only way to stop that particular bill that
day (at least momentarily) was to vote No on the Rule. But there is
also a value to forcing congress members to speak our language. It is
not, after all, our job to represent them. Peace activists in Maine
made themselves so clear to Rep. Chellie Pingree that she was compelled
to vote against the Rule and understood immediately that its being
merely a Rule vote would constitute no excuse whatsoever. Peace
activists in some parts of Tennessee and Pennsylvania (who may have a
harder base to work with) did not do as well, as illustrated by this
passage from the Hill describing the July 1, 2010, vote on the Rule:
"Party leaders were forced to hold open the vote for several minutes, and Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.) could be seen huddling with Reps. Steve Cohen (Tenn.) and Paul Kanjorski (Penn.), the last
Democratic holdouts. Both cast 'yes' votes to push the motion over the
top. When it was clear the measure had passed, Rep. Gabrielle Giffords
(D-Ariz.) switched her vote from 'yes' to 'no.' The final total was
215-210, with 8 lawmakers not voting. Cohen told The Hill earlier in
the week that he was disinclined to support a war funding bill after
bowing to pressure from party leaders who needed him to switch his vote
from 'no' to 'yes' a year ago."
Almost no one in Maine, including the leading activists had any idea what a self-executing Rule is. But Congresswoman Pingree had a good idea what was expected of her. We have to take our message to Congress,
not the reverse. Our message, the one that comes from our people, the
one that builds coalitions with our allies in the broader justice
movement is: Stop the funding!
By David Swanson
The peace movement has made significant progress in the United States since its low point of late 2008, and just about everything anyone in it has done has been a contribution. If everyone keeps doing
what they're doing, and more of it, we might just end some wars,
eventually. But I think some techniques are working better than others,
and that pursuing the most strategic approaches would make victory
likelier sooner and longer-lasting when it comes.
I think the peace movement bottomed out in late 2008 for two reasons above all others. One was the election of a Democratic president. I wasn't around for Wilson, FDR, or LBJ, but my impression is that
electing Democratic presidents is often bad news for both peace and,
paradoxically, for the peace movement. But both can eventually recover.
The other reason was the unconstitutional and uncertain treaty that
Bush and Maliki created, requiring the complete end of the Iraq
occupation following three more years of it. The agreement actually
made this delay a year and a half, rather than three years, by making
the treaty breakable through a vote of the Iraqi people (the outcome of
which could not be doubted). However, that was denied to them. While
the US peace movement had always demanded an IMMEDIATE end to the war
in Iraq, and might have been expected to go on doing so, the
combination of a written deadline and the ascension of a Democrat to
the throne proved deadly, even as the occupation of Iraq continued and
that in Afghanistan escalated.
We now have a larger and more costly military, and larger and more costly wars -- costly in financial terms -- than when Bush was president. We have more troops in the field, more mercenaries in the
field, bases in more nations, a heightened use of drone strikes into
additional countries, new secret military forces in still other
nations, and greater war powers assumed by the president, including the
power to assassinate Americans, the more firmly established powers to
imprison without charge, rendition, and torture, and heightened powers
of secrecy.
So, why do I say we've made progress? Well, I said we've made progress from where we were in late 2008, at which point the downward trends I've just mentioned could be foreseen. We'd just elected a
president promising a larger military and an escalation in Afghanistan.
Since then, the U.S. public has turned dramatically from supporting to
opposing the war in Afghanistan and the President's handling of it. The
planned escalation in Kandahar has failed to get off the ground. Every
official governmental and non-governmental study has deemed the effort
in Afghanistan hopeless, pointless, catastrophic, or criminal. High
ranking whistleblowers have spoken out. The Pentagon has resorted to
wild claims of mineral wealth, as it flails about for new ways to
justify the war. And the blame game, surrounding the eventual
withdrawal, has begun; the general in charge has been dismissed. In
addition, the withdrawal dates that people associate with Iraq and
Afghanistan (out of Iraq by the end of 2011, beginning to get out of
Afghanistan by July 2011) are closer, meaning that outrage at their
violation is closer.
At the same time, counter-recruitment efforts in the United States have begun achieving real successes, forcing the closure of the Army Experience Center in Pennsylvania and denying recruiters students' test
data in Maryland. US troops have begun refusing illegal orders in
greater numbers, and a culture of troop resistance coffee houses near
US bases has been reborn. The economic slide in the United States,
while in no sense desirable, and hurting the ability of some of us to
be engaged in the movement, is opening people's eyes to the impact of
the war economy on the peace economy, and allowing coalitions to be
formed of groups that want to defund wars and the military plus groups
that want to fund everything else: healthcare, schools, jobs, green
energy, etc. Resolutions against war spending are being passed by
political parties, towns, cities, and labor councils. Cities are
putting cost of war counters on city hall. A coalition of peace and
social justice groups has been holding monthly vigils at congress
members' local offices, with significant local impact in dozens of
districts, even if less noticeable nationally than big annual marches.
During the past year and a half, numerous activist organizations and somewhat independent media outlets have shifted from supporting the war in Afghanistan to opposing it. By opposing it, they are not necessarily
lobbying to defund it or taking any other steps to resist it or educate
people about it, but they are officially opposed to it, meaning that
they are our untapped potential waiting to be put into action. And
numerous other groups, old and news, have to various degrees and in
various ways become active, opposing the wars, each in their own way,
and contributing to these kinds of results:
May-June 2009 - 51 Democrats vote against war funding when it's guaranteed to pass; 32 vote against it when it might fail.
Late June 2009 - 131 Democrats vote for the Pentagon to produce an exit strategy, any exit strategy, for Afghanistan.
March 2010 - 65 Democrats vote to end the war in Afghanistan by the end of 2010.
July 1, 2010 - Well over 40, at least 51, and possibly 90 or more (up from 32) Democrats refuse to vote for Afghan war escalation funding, even with pleasant unrelated legislation attached, forcing
House leadership to delay the bill for months and then maneuver it to
passage without a vote.
July 1, 2010 - 38 Democrats (up from 32, but similarly limited to the number Speaker Nancy Pelosi would allow -- see below) vote against the Rule that effectively allows the funding bill to go forward toward
becoming law.
July 1, 2010 - 25 congress members vote to cut off all funding for the war in Afghanistan. 100 vote to fund only withdrawal. And 162 (up from 131, and for a strengthened amendment) vote to require the
president to present Congress with a National Intelligence Estimate on
Afghanistan and a withdrawal plan and completion date, and to require
that Congress vote by July 2011 "if it wants to allow the obligation
and expenditure of funds for Afghanistan in a manner that is not
consistent with the president's announced policy of December 2009 to
begin to drawdown troops by July 2011."
Two separate events in 2009 were combined into one in 2010. First, the funding vote was held in 2009, and the peace movement pushed for No votes hard. The White House and the House leadership were forced to
bribe and threaten congress members for weeks to keep the Democratic No
votes down to 32. Had they reached 39 the bill would have (at least in
its current form) failed, due to all the Republicans voting No because
of an unrelated measure packaged into it. It was easy to see that we
could get to 39 by the next "emergency" supplemental bill if we wanted
to work at it. The second event in 2009 was the vote on Congressman Jim
McGovern's proposal for an exit timetable. The peace movement worked
hard for this and won 131 Yes votes. This generated two separate
stories, and the two agendas did not come into conflict with each other.
In 2010 it was a different story. Congressman McGovern made his proposal for an exit timetable an amendment to the funding bill. So, some peace groups promoted yes votes on that amendment, some pushed for
No votes on the funding, and others did both. And the pressure for No
votes on the funding was felt by congress members whose constituents
were organized and active. Rep. Chellie Pingree was pressured hard in
Maine, and began to speak out for stopping the funding. She told
General Petraeus in a hearing that he was making us all less safe (even
if she did thank him three times for that "service"). And Congressman
Alan Grayson, in a move I don't recall ever having seen before, set up
a website for people to use in lobbying his colleagues to vote No on
the funding.
If the amendments had been held back for a later date and a second event, then what happened on July 1, 2010, might have looked a little different. Progressive congress members might not have accepted a
byzantine procedural maneuver that allowed the war escalation funding
to be sent back to the Senate without the House actually voting on it.
Or if such a procedure was tried, more of them might have voted No on
the Rule allowing it. Instead, almost all the committed war opponents
voted for the Rule that moved the funding along, with the double excuse
that it was only a Rule vote, not a real true policy vote, and they
were voting for it in order to have a chance to vote for good
amendments.
And what would have happened next, if this procedure had been rejected? I can't be sure, because I don't know every crazy trick to be found in House parliamentary precedents, but one distinct possibility
is that the Democratic leadership would have been forced to pass the
war escalation funding on its own with mostly Republican votes, and to
pass useful peaceful spending on its own with mostly Democratic votes.
The war funding would then have sailed through the Senate and been
signed by the President. The non-destructive spending would then have
passed the Senate if its leadership had fought hard enough and been
willing if necessary to throw out the filibuster rule. McGovern's exit
strategy bill could then have garnered its 162 votes the next week or
next month instead of being buried in the news of late-night funding
passage.
Why would this result have been any better than what we got?
Well, for one thing, it would have informed people that there was a war and that the war was being funded. My local right-wing Democrat voted No on the Rule and Yes on McGovern's amendment, but he voted No
on the Rule because of all sorts of other nonsense added into it. The
local media reported on his objection to the budgetary procedures
involved and never reported in any way that there had been any vote in
Congress related to the war. As far as my neighbors know, the wars fund
themselves.
Secondly, it would have identified who was pro-war and who was anti-war by their votes. Local activists in my town spent months demanding that our representative take a position on the war. He has
yet to do so, and if he can avoid it he never will. We can't hold
people accountable unless we know what they've done. Right now some
congress members are claiming they opposed the war by voting against
the Rule while others are claiming they opposed the war by voting for
it.
Thirdly, forcing the Democratic leadership to line up with the Republican caucus and against most of the Democrats on war votes would be educational for people who are unaware that their chief opponent
when lobbying their local Democrat for peace and justice is the
leadership of his or her party.
Fourth, the demand to stop funding the war comes from people. It's a demand we take to Congress, not one we pick up from Congress and try to explain to others. We can form huge coalitions with economic justice
groups around the demand to shift our spending from wars to jobs and
housing. We can't organize two kids and a dog from outside the peace
movement to join a coalition for an unspecified non-binding exit
timetable or a new National Intelligence Estimate. That doesn't mean
these are counterproductive demands. I would certainly support them on
any day of the year other than the day Congress is voting to fund the
wars. The problem is when one useful campaign unnecessarily interferes
with another.
Fifth, if we think of Congress as sending messages to the president who will make all the decisions as "the decider," I would rather have two events and send two messages. And the strongest message I can
imagine is this: "A growing number of House members have committed to
voting against any more war funding, no matter how much lipstick is
applied to it, and this group includes the majority of your party's
caucus, and people are organizing to keep these members in office and
vote the others out". Other, weaker messages could still be sent, and
sent more strongly, on another day.
Sixth, if we think of Congress as potentially resembling the creature defined in Article I of the U.S. Constitution, as capable of actual action, not just rhetoric, then our goal becomes building toward
the day on which the House actually refuses any more funding for a war
it opposes. In order to think this way, we have to stop thinking
exclusively in terms of passing bills that then must pass the Senate
and the President. We have to also be able to think in terms of
blocking the passage of bills. For this we only need the House. We can
focus our attention on the House and stop petitioning the Senate and
the President. This gives us a lot more resources. Plus, we don't have
to antagonize president worshippers. Instead we can focus our demands
on House members. And we can insist on other forms of action from
Congress as well, such as oversight of wars involving subpoenas and
their enforcement and the threat of high level impeachments. The
strongest message a Congress can send to a president is, with all due
respect to many of my friends, not "We wish you would end the war some
day," but "We will expose any war crimes, and we hold the power of the
purse."
Seventh, while our ideal must be ending the current wars in whatever combination of approaches is most likely to succeed the fastest, we should also take an interest in ending wars in a manner that helps
prevent the next ones from beginning immediately. This means focusing
on the funding, and moving from the defunding of wars to the defunding
of the military and the empire of foreign bases, shrinking the machine
that creates the wars. And it means taking the power to initiate or
escalate or indefinitely continue wars away from presidents.
The peace movement in the US, organizationally, and much to its disadvantage, has its headquarters in Washington, D.C. We are, consequently, often instructed in the need to relate to congress
members on their terms, using their language, etc. One good friend of
mine is quite energized with the need to instruct us that the recent
vote on a Rule did not technically fund the war escalation, even while
readily admitting that the only way to stop that particular bill that
day (at least momentarily) was to vote No on the Rule. But there is
also a value to forcing congress members to speak our language. It is
not, after all, our job to represent them. Peace activists in Maine
made themselves so clear to Rep. Chellie Pingree that she was compelled
to vote against the Rule and understood immediately that its being
merely a Rule vote would constitute no excuse whatsoever. Peace
activists in some parts of Tennessee and Pennsylvania (who may have a
harder base to work with) did not do as well, as illustrated by this
passage from the Hill describing the July 1, 2010, vote on the Rule:
"Party leaders were forced to hold open the vote for several minutes, and Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.) could be seen huddling with Reps. Steve Cohen (Tenn.) and Paul Kanjorski (Penn.), the last
Democratic holdouts. Both cast 'yes' votes to push the motion over the
top. When it was clear the measure had passed, Rep. Gabrielle Giffords
(D-Ariz.) switched her vote from 'yes' to 'no.' The final total was
215-210, with 8 lawmakers not voting. Cohen told The Hill earlier in
the week that he was disinclined to support a war funding bill after
bowing to pressure from party leaders who needed him to switch his vote
from 'no' to 'yes' a year ago."
Almost no one in Maine, including the leading activists had any idea what a self-executing Rule is. But Congresswoman Pingree had a good idea what was expected of her. We have to take our message to Congress,
not the reverse. Our message, the one that comes from our people, the
one that builds coalitions with our allies in the broader justice
movement is: Stop the funding!
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