• 25 Jan 2009 /  Uncategorized

    “Enough, one must go on, these are things that one thinks but does not say.” –Primo Levi, Survival in Auschwitz

    “It was their everyday duty.” –Primo Levi, on Nazi brutality

    I recently read the morning paper. I shouldn’t have done that. I also recently read Survival in Auschwitz, by Primo Levi. I shouldn’t have done that either, but for different reasons: it demanded too much grief and asked too many questions. Less recently, I went to a public meeting about a new pet-coke plant that Consolidated Energy wants to put next-to-the-refinery-next-to-the-freeway-next-to-the-asthmatic’s-worst-nightmare. I also shouldn’t have done that, and not just because it involved fighting Read the rest of this entry »

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  • 19 Dec 2008 /  Uncategorized

    This is something I wrote as part of an invite to a political summit I am organizing in Provo from December 28th-30th. If you would like to attend, you can email me for an agenda at sanders.ashley@gmail.com.

    As I traveled around on my Nader speaking tour this last month, I stayed with a dozen different friends. Every friend I visited wanted to have the same conversation. They were scared because they had entered the adult world of real jobs, real budget concerns, and real time constraints. They were worried that they would never find out what they really wanted to do, or, if they did find out, that they could never make it happen. They were worried that the restrictions and unimaginativeness and sheer drudgery of most organizations would suck their soul and keep them from being the person they wanted to be. They admitted they had a hard time standing up to the structures and managers of the status quo to demand what they really needed or what people in general really needed. They fretted that they were becoming slaves of a paycheck mentality, and that they were giving up their old ideals to be ‘practical’.

    In short, they realized that they were becoming the people they said they would never be, and they realized that this transformation did not occur overnight. Adulthood was waging a much more subtle assault on their ideals than they had imagined. They admitted that they thought their moments of defiance would be just that-moments of principle against egregious or unethical requests made by sinister bosses with ominous agendas. Instead, they acknowledged that losing your soul was a very mundane process-that they were losing it in a thousand miniscule concessions, not to overtly unethical propositions Read the rest of this entry »

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  • 20 Nov 2008 /  Uncategorized

    Reevaluating John Thomas’ demands, we can see that his suggestions are not escapist but necessary. We cannot simply legislate more rights; we must regain our imagination and believe in the transformative power of words and rituals. It is not that Thomas is merely arguing that we should exercise private forgiveness and let the State commit its terror. That is what bad religion does: denies the connection Read the rest of this entry »

  • 20 Nov 2008 /  Uncategorized

    The politics of beauty and mercy seek what all great reforms (and reformers) have sought: to universalize their radical subjectivity through the fundamentally unfounded logic of the State.

    So what does this all have to do with Elizabeth’s post? What does it have to do with religion being of use or the tension between bottom-up and top-down politics?

    Everything.

    John Thomas and Dietrich Bonhoeffer were both essentially wondering if religion was, by its nature, necessarily complicit in the structural horrors of the modern world. For example, they might wonder if religion, with its emphasis on radical forgiveness, Read the rest of this entry »

  • 20 Nov 2008 /  Uncategorized

    In other words, the politics of ‘rights’ breaks down as soon as we realize the rights exist merely as buffers between different freedoms ‘to’ and ‘from’. Classical politics contradicts itself when the rights it gives people to be free from others’ demands for mercy clashes with the freedom it gives people to live morally. The question is, essentially, whether a person should be able to universalize their merciful impulse in a way that would interrupt others’ freedoms from those claims.

    But any person who has confronted real suffering feels the obligation not to just personally end it, but to universally end it. The desire to end suffering Read the rest of this entry »

  • 20 Nov 2008 /  Uncategorized
    I wanted to post Elizabeth’s reflections because I’ve had so many thoughts on the things she talks about and I desperately need a starting point. These thoughts intersect and diverge in so many ways that I don’t know how to keep them together, so I will simply start writing and hope I cover everything along the way.

    First, I have been agonizing about what I a politics of mercy would look like. I have spent months in the belly of the political beast (Washington, DC) working on a political campaign-albeit, a very atypical political campaign-and I have seen again and again the limits of top-down politics.

    I remember being in a rhetoric class a few years ago, discussing the differences between Romanticism and Classicism. We were talking about Classicism and its effects on the structures and values of America’s political system. (In case you haven’t read your Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance lately, a Classical worldview is one of order and limits, uniformity and law. A Romantic worldview is one marked by subjectivity, irrationality, sublimity and erratic emotion-all things we can’t codify.)

    We were in the middle of discussing how these temperaments have influenced politics when it occurred to me: Classicism is the politics of limitation and restraint; it keeps people free from others’ excesses so that everyone can pursue what is actually important to them-the Romantic acts of creativity, love and meaning. Classical, top-down politics is not an end in itself, then, but a structure that tries to prevent one person from gaining so much power that they keep others from pursuing their real aspirations. Classical politics is the answer to this question: What if we are trying to live in harmony but one person abuses the general trust and expectations of living in a group? Classical politics attempts to restrain individual excess to allow for the individual extravagance of love Read the rest of this entry »

  • 20 Nov 2008 /  Uncategorized

    My friend Elizabeth is getting her Masters in Divinity at Yale. As part of her job, she interviewed John Thomas of the Unitied Church of Christ about the role of religion in addressing social injustice. I am posting her response to her interview (which deals with the topic in terms of her own faith (Mormonism)), and then responding to the ever-controversial religion and politics topic with my own essay. It is a long essay, as always, but some of the things I say in there will respond to or clarify or apologize for certain positions I have taken in other posts, so read on if that interests you.

    Elizabeth: 

    Yesterday was an exciting one for me. As part of my campus job writing what amounts to AP copy, I got to interview Reverend John Thomas, general minister of the United Church of Christ, before he spoke to the Yale community. He titled his speech “The Future of the Prophetic Voice in the Ecumenical Church.” Rev. Thomas amended this title to read “After Seven Years,” based on a letter Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote entitled “After Ten Years.”

    Bonhoeffer wrote the letter in December 1942 to his co-conspirators trying to put an end to war and to overturn Hitler. Rev. Thomas said that the letter was also Bonhoeffer’s attempt to speak to himself.” He was in a place of extremity, dealing with the deaths of the Jews he was trying to save a Read the rest of this entry »

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  • 13 Nov 2008 /  Uncategorized

    This wouldn’t fit as a comment, so I posted it.

    Thank you, Joe, for spreading the mental wealth with your free psychological diagnosis of my personality.

    You might have found the answers to a lot of the (condescending) questions in your comments if you had bothered to read this blog before asking them. I have supplemented all of my arguments with at least a dozen articles by respected journalists and have provided countless ‘facts’ (put in quotations to prevent you from going apoplectic) about Obama’s advisers and their political pasts, his campaign contributions, his own stated political goals (from his website and his mouth), and Wall Street’s take on his candidacy. But, as is almost always the case with Obama supporters, you have responded with shrill attacks on my character and mental state rather than with counterfacts.

    And so I will ask you. Did Barack Obama select Rahm Emmanuel as his chief of staff or did he not? And is it or isn’t it easy to look of Emmanuel’s positions and actions on NAFTA, welfare and war? And are those actions overhelmingly pro-NAFTA, pro-big-business, and pro-war, or are they not?

    Or we could talk about Joe Biden. Has he or hasn’t he consistently legislated in favor of credit card companies? Was he or wasn’t he for the war? And on and on.

    Or Barack Obama. Is he or isn’t he getting out of the war in Iraq? Has he or hasn’t he said he supported a border wall? Did he or didn’t he reject single payer healthcare?

    These facts are not hard to corroborate, but you (and many others like you) utterly refuse to address them, preferring instead to deal in Freudian analyses about how my desire for people to be safe and respected is some misdirected mother complex or an English education gone horribly wrong.

    If you had read my blog, you would know that I do not believe a president has much power. He is (or ought to be) a very limited political person. That is precisely why I always insist that a presidential election serves the same purpose as the medieval festivals that always cropped up whenever the poor started grumbling — festivals that allowed them to blow off steam and then return more subserviently to the same oppressive structures the next day. That is also why I did not take a break after the elections but have spent every day since drafting concrete plans for november5.org, organizing, as you suggested, thousands of artists and citizens to put pressure on Obama and Congress.

    In every speech I gave on my speaking tour, I stressed that the president’s powers were limited. As such, I believe that the president’s main role is to set the rhetorical tone of the country. Before you bombard me with a thousand links to Barack Obama’s ‘inspiring’ speeches, let me interject. I am not talking about making grandiose statements on unity and hope. When I talk of setting the rhetorical tone, I mean that it is the president’s job to dispell harmful myths, take responsibility for wrongs, articulate new and just ideas, identify the roots of problems, make corresponding critiques, and — above all — to use one’s power to speak for victims who have no voice in the media, the political process, or the political philosophies that dominate the current discourse. As we are well aware, George Bush used this power of rhetoric to plunge us into a destructive fear that in turn led to actual and horrifying legislation. I believe that the reverse is also true: that the President could use words that demanded more from people –  that led to a wave of peaceful legislation.

    This is where you jump in and tell me how Obama has done just that: that he has inspired people to be  unified and good and will usher in legislative peace. I don’t doubt that he has this effect on people, and I am glad for whatever good comes of it.

    But my entire point — and my point since my first political post on my other blog months ago — is that I cannot support Obama because he does not take on the philosophies of suffering that safeguard the neoliberal kingdom. When asked about free trade, Obama does not condemn it as a system of exploitation based fundamentally on a disparty of wealth; he says he is for free trade and praises this philosophically-ensconsed greed as if it were the best we could do for the world. Nowhere is there a lament for the workers who suffer to make our clothes (cue Viper on the glories of globalization) or a MLK-esque reminder that human rights are universal, not nation-specific – indeed, that the nation-state is a myth that makes us forget this. When asked about immigration, Obama does not bother to explain that corporations have always depended on an illegal class of exploitable labor (that they then cunningly vilify to keep them illegal) to survive. Nor does he talk about the hypocrisy inherent when immigrants who stole land from rightful owners criticize new immigrants who steal nothing from them. But most importantly, Barack Obama does not use his voice to counteract the million-million epithets that these people have had to endure at the behest of our invisible hand and our smugly jingoistic sense of superiority; nowhere does he remind us of the most obvious and basic fact: that an immigrant is a father or mother who has been thrust into economic despair (most likely by us) and who come here only to lift their children out of that despair. When we talk of war, Obama does not explode the bloody notions of eye-for-eye Statism. He strategically criticizes specific wars as mistakes; he makes the distinction between “smart” and “dumb” ones, but he refuses the brave idea that we could stop going to war at all. But his beautiful “inspiring” words cajole and lull us until we forget what is at stake–until we forget that our buzzed sense of unity actually excludes millions of the voiceless, whether they are such because of the misfortune of poverty or the greater misfortune of not being an American.

    Barack Obama similarly does not dispell dangerous myths. He capitalizes on them. If he stood up in a debate and questioned the American dream — if he criticized it as a hopelessly archaic and hopelessly self-centered philosophy at the heart of our environmental/economic crises and our exclusive trade philosophies –I would not only respect him, I would think he was doing his job as a presidential candidate. After all, that is exactly why I support DEMOCRATS like Kucinich and Gravel with no reservations whatsoever. But Obama does not. He says he admires Reagan’s policies. He spouts the American dream in a candied dialogue that is no less sinister for the absence of McCain’s iconic American Dreamer, Joe the Plumber.

    As for the dangerous myth of realpolitik, of nation-statism and the utterly accepted violence of balancing (read: overbalancing) power, Obama is equally silent. He scales it back like we like him to, choosing George H.W. Bush as his foreign policy ideal rather than George W, but his foreign policy rhetoric is essentially the same: he bandies the word terrorism around with the same ideological caprice, supports the overall motivation for and execution of the war in Iraq, and–after a few ceremonial nods to diplomacy — leaves untouched the whole idea that we must live a Hobbesian nightmare on a national level in order to live our pastoral ideals on a personal level.

    To remove any vestiges of confusion I will state my point for the hundredth time: I want a president who will speak to the suffering of the voiceless by criticizing the philosophies that allow us to legitimize our greed, superiority, and violence. Ralph Nader does that, and so I support him. Obama does not, and so I do not.

    Apparently, this makes me a racist. Beyond being confusing (I will refrain from re-asking why it is racist to demand that someone fairly characterize the plight of Palestinians, Iraqis, immigrants, sweatshop workers, poor farmers, and resistance movements in South America), I will merely suggest that if I need Black intellectuals on my side to make me legitimate, I would prefer to take my cue from the reporters at the Black Agenda Report, who have tirelessly and actually advocated for Black causes and who have been intensely critical of Obama’s campaign throughout the elections. You can read their excellent and most recent take on the elections here.

    Or, if it is still possible for a white person to make an acceptable critique in this ‘historical moment,’ you could read John Pilger’s recent analysis here (please do read it).

    And thank you for your education suggestions, Joe, but I have already taken post-colonial literature classes. That is why I am acutely concerned with the voiceless many that have no clout or narrative at all in our political discourse — people like the immigrants who die in the desert, or the victims of CIA-backed death squads all over the globe, or the millions of other people who have been the unhappy recipients of our sugar-coated neoliberal violence. I am sorry that a few abstract phrases cannot fill that narrative void, and I am sorry if I do not believe that an amorphous and vague hope will get people to make (and then correct) the connections between our political philosohies and the real violence they sponsor. My post-colonial literature classes have also helped me to make the comments I made above: they have made me aware of the ways that the white power structure will continue to exert its power even as it turns the forms of power over to its ‘enemies’. Your criticism of me as a white person speaking for Blacks falls into the same camp as those who howl against racial epithets but not not care about structural racism. Instead of asking why I would dare to speak for Blacks, why not ask why white Wall Street magnates are speaking for Obama? That seems to be the more important criticism. And besides, I have traveled around the whole country talking to Black communities. At each stop, I told them how uncomfortable it was for me to act as a killjoy for their excitement — how uncomfortable I was about speaking to them. But I also said that my goal was to be honest about the facts as I saw them BECAUSE I respected them. We had lots of good conversations, in which most of them openly admitted that they did not feel Obama stood for them. But even if they hadn’t, why is it my job as a white person to stop making criticisms of racist systems? I never said that election night was not meaningful to Black people or that I couldn’t understand why it would be; I said that my allegiances were not to hype but to actual equality. And I would never doubt the power of a narrative. I believe that if Obama ends up becoming the president that people want him to be, it will be largely because of this powerful narrative we have told ourselves. But does that bar me from pointing out that I think the narrative is not based on fact? It shouldn’t.

    None of this is fundamentalist. This is empathy for human suffering that rejects the philosophies that say I must condone it. It is not an opinion I have recently developed. It is the way I have always felt. Ever since I was very little, I remember turning on the television and wondering what all these suited people were talking about. It didn’t mean anything to me because I felt they were missing the point. I still feel that way. The only difference now is that I know that there are actually politicians who are willing to speak in a way that gets to the point, and that out of relief and respect and a real sense of hope I must vote for those people.

    If you asked me, I would tell you how much I have personally agonized over the subtleties in this election. I have written at least fifty single spaced pages in my journal about it, and I have spent hours arguing with people on my own campaign about the issues. Just yesterday I had a long conversation with a co-worker about George Bush’s motivations and whether religious people have an obligation to forgive him.

    It is not that I am unwilling to be subtle. It is that I am angry that I must constantly defend a minority idea against a smug, self-assured majority that tells me that my ideas do not even count, which does not do much to encourage subtle conversation. If you are so concerned about inequality and exclusion and histories of oppression, you might take some time to understand how third parties feel about elections, or how people who vote for third parties feel about a person who finally represents THEM. But third parties, apparently, are not worth our empathy and do not get their historical moments. Instead, they are asked by the very people who have slandered and dismissed them for months to buck up and act excited when the person they don’t want to win, wins.

  • 12 Nov 2008 /  Uncategorized

    Joe Vogel wrote a comment on my last post. This is my response to him that is also a partial response to election night.

    Joe,

    The final triumph of a white corporate power structure is to get a minority face to front for the continued racism of the white corporate power structure. The powerful know that the image of equality–the face of it–will have such a powerful affect on people that they won’t even think to ask about real equality.

    Real solidarity means solidarity with the disenfranchised (racially and economically) no matter what. This includes solidarity against an aesthetic equality that has no basis in the real political economy. Real solidarity is not narrow, it is expansive. It’s echo chamber is the echo chamber of history. If it is purist, it is purist in only one thing: it will not abide the suffering of the weak at the hands of the powerful.

    I do not believe Blacks won on November 4th, and so I will not rejoice. I believe the corporate power structure won. It won in several different ways. It won by manipulating racial despair for its own gain. It convinced millions of people, black and white, that they were witnessing a revolution. From all the available evidence, however, they were not. Whether you choose to look at advisers, contributors, or Obama’s own stated goals and policies, the disenfranchised were not getting the People’s President. You want me to say that they were, and rejoice alongside you. But I cannot and do not believe that, and so I won’t.

    I believe that November 4th was an unprecedented triumph for brand democracy, a politics that trades the actuality of equality and revolution for its images. It is not surprising, then, that the architects of brand revolution used the ultimate political aesthetic–a cosmetic Blackness–to cover the advance of a structural and economic racism.

    But the final victory is even more insidious. With the ascendancy of the first Black men to the presidency, the corporatists can now silence their critics by calling them racists. By putting a Black man between themselves and their crimes, they have virtually ensured themselves immunity from critique and breathed new life into a racist system that might otherwise have imploded.

    It is a victory we should know well: take a country in crisis; whip them into an angry frenzy; cunningly divide the structural (economic) problem from the political solution and offer a highly-visible aesthetic antidote that in no way threatens the powers that be. We saw this in South Africa, when the corporatists used highly-visible political freedoms for Blacks to distract people from a continued policy of less-visible but devastating economic racism. And what was the result? A politically “free” South Africa that, for minorities, is no more free than before.

    But we don’t want to learn from history.

    When Ralph Nader appeared on Fox News, he used the phrase ‘Uncle Tom’. This is seen as a racist term. In fact, the term is used to criticize the white power structure. It is used pejoratively precisely because it sees Black subservience to a white power structure as deplorable and traitorous to Blacks as a whole. To quote from the Wikipedia definition, it is a term “used to describe black people whose political views or allegiances are considered by their critics as detrimental to blacks as a group.” The point of using the phrase is to criticize those whose opportunisim has led them to abandon their solidarity with the disenfranchised. In other words, it means exactly what Nader was suggesting, which was this: that Barack Obama has opportunistically allied himself with a largely white corpocracy at the expense of solidarity with the Blacks he has consistently claimed to represent and understand. The fact that this duplicity occurs under the banner of “unity,” “post-racialism,” and a “historical Black candidacy” is no accident. Those are the tools used by the powerful to distract the people from what they are losing.

    All this should be obvious, unless you have come to believe that we have conquered structual racism and now need only to fight the battle against racial epithets. Americans’ response to Obama’s candidacy, along with their subsequent responses to Nader’s comments, indicates the depth of their delusion. They are willing to flay Nader relentlessy for making a racist statement, but they rejoice in the streets in the name of a Black candidate who–according to his own stated policies–will make people of color miserable all over the globe. All this, and you have the audacity to tell me that it is my job to drop my fight and join with you in happy delusion–that I must be racist or condescending or purist or something worse if I cannot abandon my principles to worship an image.

    I am sorry. My thoughts are with Iraqis who will wake up tomorrow to more bombs. My thoughts are with Afghanis who will see an escalated war and more bloody wedding parties. My thoughts are with Palestinians who will see more walls and less food. My thoughts are with Mexican farmers who will starve for NAFTA’s sake. My thoughts are with the species that suffer when we drill them from their homes. My thoughts are with the thousands of people who will get sick and die because they can’t afford healthcare, and with the immigrants who do our work and receive only our slanders. If you can give me a reason for my thoughts to be elsewhere, let me know. Until then, I will not look away.

    As for the Black community who supports Obama, I can only quote Malcom X: “You don’t stab a man in the back nine inches and pull it out six inches and say you’re making progress.” Or I could quote Martin Luther King, despite his posterity: “A true revolution of values will soon cause us to question the fairness and justice of many of our past and present policies… A true revolution of values will soon look uneasily on the glaring contrast of poverty and wealth. With righteous indignation, it will look across the seas and see individual capitalists of the West investing huge sums of money in Asia, Africa and South America, only to take the profits out with no concern for the social betterment of the countries, and say: ‘This is not just.’ …The Western arrogance of feeling that it has everything to teach others and nothing to learn from them is not just. A true revolution of values will lay hands on the world order and say of war: ‘This way of settling differences is not just.’ This business of burning human beings with napalm, of filling our nation’s homes with orphans and widows, of injecting poisonous drugs of hate into veins of people normally humane, of sending men home from dark and bloody battlefields physically handicapped and psychologically deranged, cannot be reconciled with wisdom, justice and love. A nation that continues year after year to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual death.”

    People always thought Malcom X went to far. Now we praise him. But what we don’t remember is that many people thought King had gone too far. They asked him to stop pushing it, to stop taking his critiques to their natural frontiers. They asked him to settle down and work with more moderate groups. But he wouldn’t. And that’s exactly why I admire him and exactly why I don’t admire Barack Obama. (I am sure you will say Obama is against wars. But Obama, in his own words, is only against “dumb” wars. Martin Luther King had the courage to say that all wars are stupid, and to connect war with a deeper economic imperialism. If Obama did these things, I would be with you in the streets. But he does not.)

    I don’t pretend to know more about Black people than they know about themselves. But I will speak up when I think that any group’s despair is being manipulated so that the powerful can continue to harm, and that is precisely what I think is happening. I am not suggesting that Black people are not capable of thinking hard about their vote. I am suggesting that any self-identified group, particularly if they have suffered a good deal, is in danger of confusing that history of suffering with the intoxication of great change. I say this as a Mormon who sat and watched as droves of “my people” voted for a Mormon candidate who directly threatened the peaceful principles of their religion.

    I would say that I believe we will look back in sorrow and regret on this election. The reality, however, is we won’t. Barack Obama will probably succeed at getting us to slide center a bit. He will not correct gross wrongs, or question the fundamental sociopathology of the modern nation-state. He will simply get us back to the pre-Bush years, in which our excesses were tidily contained in the philosophies that justified them and most people were politically bovine and satisfied. I am sure that most will look back on Obama’s presidency as a great success, a second Camelot of Kennedy-esque proportions. But that is no comfort to me precisely because I fear that the majority of people–political commentators and philosophers above all–are comfortable with an astounding degree of violence and terror. The problem with Bush was that he pushed the natural terror of the State out of invisibility–which it depends on–and into the light. If we can push it back so we do not have to see it, most of us will move on. And Barack Obama will help us do that. But I will not move on, and I hope other won’t either. I hope they won’t move on because there are millions of unvoiced others who, as direct recipients of the “acceptable” violence of the nation-state, will not have the luxury of that choice.

    We have entered a catatonic kumbaya–the prayer of the deluded that is deaf to the howls of the excluded.

    I leave with an image from election night. On a lighted street, crowds of screaming people banged pots and pans, hugged and kissed each other, and shouted: Everything is different! In the corner of the same street, seven black men slept on cardboard in front of a glassy store, pulling ratty blankets over their ears to avoid the noise.

  • 04 Nov 2008 /  Uncategorized

    Another STUPENDOUS video from John Harrison.

    Watch it before you vote.