"The Best and the Brightest"

Governor Christie committed a verbal irony that's quite common, but still worthy of note. In calling for a new system for hiring school superintendents he stated that the new system would allow the hiring of "the best and brightest." This phrase has of course entered the popular lexicon via David Halberstam's book on the Vietnam War. Of course, Halberstam meant the term to be ironic; a bitter comment on how individuals and groups possessing the most impressive of credentials can still exhibit no real understanding of a situation and make horrific and disastrous decisions as a result.

If By "Anybody" You Mean "Most Men"

Anton Scalia has raised a ruckus with his statement that the Fourteenth Amendment does not protect women or GLBTQ folks from discrimination. I will leave to those more knowledgeable to parse the legal questions. What I found troubling were certain underlying assumptions embedded in the language of the question and Scalia's response. Here is the text of the question:

California Lawyer: "In 1868, when the 39th Congress was debating and ultimately proposing the 14th Amendment, I don't think anybody would have thought that equal protection applied to sex discrimination, or certainly not to sexual orientation."

What appears problematic is the idea that it is foolish to think "anybody" would have conceived of the Fourteenth Amendment protecting women at that time. Tell it to Susan B. Anthony! As noted in this piece, feminist activists of the time advanced their own interpretation focusing on section 1's use of gender neutral language to make the case that the Fourteenth Amendment did protect suffrage rights, at the very least. This in fact led to a great act of symbolic protest as women activists in 10 states attempted (and in a few cases) succeeded in casting ballots, leading to Anthony being put on trial.

More broadly, we must be wary of statements regarding prevailing views in society which it is said that "everybody" or "nobody" held a certain belief. Such assertions usually consist of taking a certain sub-group of people (often "most white men") and universalizing their perspective to all of society. In doing so, we erase whole populations and histories; making unjust ideas and structures seem a universal norm. Men had greater power in the 1860s and could create laws and social structures enforcing that superiority; that does not mean everyone believed that this was "the way it ought to be."

Forgetting Reconstruction

The end of last year witnessed a perfect storm hit of news stories on race and history in the United States. At one end was Mississippi governor Haley Barbour’s nostalgic reminisces of the Citizens Councils, which attempted to put a “respectable” (and more effective) face to white supremacy. The story breaking on the 150^th anniversary of South Carolina’s declaration of secession seemed too perfect as a demonstration of how alive the gap between ideals and realities of equality remain.

At the same time, these incidents illuminate a profound deficit in how the history of racism and the struggle for equal rights are remembered. For in our popular imagination, the great struggles over these issues exist at two poles separated by exactly a century: the Civil War and the Civil Rights Movement. With regards to historical memory, the Civil War in the next years is sure to burn brightly, as the 150^th anniversaries of innumerable battles, the Emancipation Proclamation, etc arrive. However, as obviously significant as the Civil War is, focusing on the actual conflict does a disservice to understanding the full history. Certainly the war created many dramatic and concrete transformations, most notably the end of slavery and the intensification of modern capitalism’s emergence. Yet, especially when talking about the African-American community, the war’s greatest importance lies in the possibilities it created for even deeper changes and which, albeit with limitations, were seized upon during Reconstruction.

As well known as the Civil War’s contours are, outside of academics who study it, Reconstruction appears lost in a haze. The single best known depiction of the period remains Gone With the Wind, which traffics in the frankly racist viewpoint which received academic validation from historians of the “Dunning School” (think a somewhat toned down Birth of a Nation in footnoted book form). For the Dunning school, Reconstruction was a tragedy in which the North (or more specifically the Radical Republicans) imposed unfairly harsh conditions on Southern states' re-entry to the Union and Northern opportunists (so-called “carpetbaggers”) swept into the South to take financial advantage of a defeated land. Furthermore, in this interpretation, African-Americans were unable to take advantage of freedom; proving dangerously incompetent at governing or building independent lives. The advent of Jim Crow and the return to Democratic rule are thus seen as the forces that rescued the South from further misery.

Corruption and exploitation by Northern businessmen, entrepreneurs, and politicians of the Southern states did exist. To see Reconstruction as a tragic period is certainly apt, yet the tragedy lies not in its severity, but in its limitations. Many of the struggles for civil rights of the 1950s and 1960s were in fact efforts to regain rights that African-Americans enjoyed, briefly, one hundred years earlier. The period saw significant reforms to southern society beyond those directly concerned with the freedmen and women, such as the establishment of public school systems, economic development (such as railroad lines and non-agricultural industry). The reversal of the period’s gains, especially regarding African-American rights and dreams of fairness, represented a severe blow to creating a United States whose policies reflected its highest ideals. To forget it is to forget one of the most concentrated attempts to build a true “land of the free.”

Note: In a second post (and I’ll actually do it!), I’ll go into more detail on the specific history of the period, its gains and failures.

Remembering who "they first came for"

I see that Andrew Napolitano, a Fox News analyst referenced the infamous Martin Niemöller "first they came" statement regarding the TSA. Glenn Beck, in one of his daily rants against the dangers of progressive radicals, has also cited it. In these cases the quote has been trotted out to warn about the dangers of big government and progressivism. Slippery-slope arguments are perfectly fine political rhetoric, however, the constant analogizing of U.S. liberals to the Nazis, merits context about this quotation.

First, to the man who said it: Martin Niemöller. A conservative Lutheran minister who initially supported Hitler's rise to power, Niemöller increasingly saw the Nazi regime as a danger that needed to be confronted. He began to speak out openly against the regime, and for that he was imprisoned in concentration camps from 1937 to 1945. His elegant words about the dangers of staying silent as different groups are targeted for persecution have become a profound and universal admonition.

That said, the quote is often misstated as referring only to Jews. Professor Harold Marcuse at UC-Santa Barbara, whose expertise is in modern German history, has a very comprehensive website about the quotation and Niemöller. Based on that, I have placed below the most accurate version of it (emphasis added):

"First they came for the Communists, but I was not a Communist so I did not speak out.
Then they came for the Socialists and the Trade Unionists, but I was neither, so I did not speak out.
Then they came for the Jews, but I was not a Jew so I did not speak out. And when they came for me, there was no one left to speak out for me."

Yes, the people who they "first came for" were, in fact, Communists, socialists, and trade unionists. The reasons are fairly straightforward: the German left, particularly the more moderate (but still quite progressive) Social Democrats, were Hitler's chief opponents. On a practical level, they represented alternative sources of political power that Hitler needed to eliminate to assert complete control.

Ideologically, the situation is somewhat more complicated. Fascism is a frankly weird ideology, melding some left-wing ideas (a disdain for capitalism) with other views more associated with the political right (hyper-nationalism and militarism).* I hesitate to call Hitler "right-wing," but it is definitively the case that most everyone who identified as "left" in Germany opposed the Nazis.

Of course, Beck and his fellow travelers cannot be bothered with such details. Speaking of Beck however, remind me again, who gives regular speeches denouncing socialism and social democracy and insisting they must be combated vigorously? And who sees unions as a malignant force in our society? Well, let's see, Glenn Beck and . . . Adolf Hitler! Why, could it be, that Glenn Beck is a Nazi sympathizer?

Actually, no. Just because he opposes some of the ideologies that fought Nazism does not make him a Nazi. There were conservatives (like Niemöller) who stood up against the Nazis too. But sadly, such historical complexities apparently do not fit into sarcastic, ill-informed rants made in front of a chalkboard.

*Hopefully this image gives a sense of how difficult placing the Nazis on the conventional ideological spectrum is. This is a Nazi election poster from 1932, portraying Social Democrats and capitalists as part of the same evil; it states (paradoxically) that "Marxism is the patron saint of Capitalism."

A Very Hayekian Thanksgiving?

This past Sunday’s New York Times points to yet another battlefield in the war of historical interpretation that is one of many fronts in our current ideological conflict. This time, it is the stories of the initial failures and later successes of the Jamestown and Plymouth colonies that serve as convenient fables proving the universal superiority of the pure free market. Specifically, conservatives attribute these colonies’ initial hardships to the fact that “the first settlers were actually early socialists. They realized the error of their collectivist ways and embraced capitalism, producing a bumper year, upon which they decided that it was only right to celebrate the glory of the free market and private property.”

What this example demonstrates is that any historical episode can be employed to “prove” a political perspective’s assertions, as long as the analysis is kept generalized. Such as by claiming that Jamestown and Plymouth actually are evidence that markets lead to disaster and only heavy state intervention provides stability and growth. Observe.

In the case of Jamestown, a strong argument can be made that the obsession with profits over other community needs characterizing the colony's early years (as well as a conservative view on how capitalism best functions) caused many of the colony’s troubles. In its first decades, Jamestown was run by the seventeenth century version of a multinational corporation, the Virginia Company. As historian Karen Kupperman (who is interviewed in the article) describes, the drive for profit pushed by the company meant that “much attention was diverted from building essential infrastructure to the continuing effort to find those indispensable ‘marchantable commodities.’” To take one concrete example, the initial colonists sent by the Virginia Company included numerous individuals expert in mining and metallurgy, but fewer who knew about agriculture.

In fact, the private management of Jamestown proved so problematic that in 1624 the colony underwent a seventeenth century version of nationalization, becoming a royal colony administered directly by the crown. This change happened after a government investigation uncovered evidence of severe mismanagement by the Virginia Company, even as its directors collected scandalously large salaries. Jamestown's transformation to a royal colony had beneficial results; in its aftermath began a “great period of varied production” that included everything from brewing to gun making (oh Virginia).

So Jamestown proves the universal superiority of state-run institutions over private, profit-seeking ones? Hardly. There are of course state-run institutions that run with great efficiency. There are also private businesses that run competently. The crises of Jamestown's early years had as much to do with disease and bad weather as it did with how English colonists organized themselves economically. And while I cannot speak to the details, I would expect that studying a seventeenth-century royal colony can tell you as much about modern day state-run enterprises as studying radical Republicans circa 1866 can tell you about radical Republicans today (ie., a little, but not much).

How about Plymouth? The Times article notes the central thesis for conservatives lies with the changes in land distribution. Initially, Plymouth’s farm lands were communal (which proved disastrous) and then they were divided into individual plots (which proved successful). Not being an expert on this, it sounds plausible; collective agriculture has certainly seen its historical disasters, and a lot depends on the dynamics of the community. The article quotes scholars who note (as could be expected) a number of other factors were at play (such as the Pilgrims becoming better farmers with time). Furthermore, what the conservative account ignores is that, while the Pilgrims may have given up on communal ownership, they maintained policies around land to promote general social welfare. Looking over the right-wing “Great Thanksgiving Hoax” site, one is hard pressed to find the portion of Plymouth governor William Bradford’s decree on creating individual land ownership that also required farmers to set aside some of their food for those who needed it; “a portion for public fishermen &c. who could not work” to quote directly. Apparently even privatization could not kill welfare socialism.

As always, the take-away message is that simplified history does a disservice not only to understanding the past, but also for interpreting the present and building for the future.

The 1830s Cartoon That Explains Today's Tea Party

Sometimes a historical document comes along which seems to reach across the centuries and achieve an almost timeless resonance. While doing research on the English anti-slavery movement I came across such an item in the form of an early 1830s political cartoon satirizing the English anti-slavery movement. What is striking is how, in one image, it encapsulates the complexities of a strain of conservative populism that has been an important force in U.S. and global politics (albeit in dramatically different ways) for a long, long time.

First, here is the cartoon in question (clicking on the link you can go to a page that allows for zooming in closer on the image):

Before going into detail, a few more words about the idea of "conservative populism." As Michael Kazin, one of the leading scholar of the topic, explains in his book The Populist Persuasion, conservative populism premises itself on the defense of the great "middle" of American society. These are the people and families who "paid America's taxes, fought its wars, and upheld the ideal of economic independence." While not by definition white, throughout U.S. history and to this day, that middle has, sometimes more expressly than others, been defined as white Americans.

The spark for initiating populist uprisings comes when the middle is threatened by forces of insecurity, whether they be direct material challenges to the "middle" economically and politically or focus more on abstract notions of identity (social, racial, political, etc). What distinguishes right-wing populism lies in its emphasis on threats from both "above" and "below." Progressive and left-wing populism focuses overwhelmingly on dangers from above, particularly emanating from the business classes. As Kazin describes, conservative populism sees both threats from "above," consisting of "a tiny elite that lived off the labor of others," along with a related danger from below, made up of "a larger group whose poverty seemed perpetual and whose behavior appeared servile, undisciplined, and childlike."

All of these themes are expressed in this one image. On the left side we find a hard-working, white middle or working class English family, crushed by taxation and debt. The man's attentive wife laments their situation, questioning "What [probably meaning "why] must an industrious and honest man starve in a country like this?" Meanwhile, the man decries his situation, bemoaning the fact that his plight (and of those like him) does not receive the same care and attention from elites as does that of the slaves. He notes that people like himself can get no help, "unless I draw a cart harnessed like a beast and get fed by the Parish." Meanwhile, the obviously affluent abolitionist chides the white workers for not recognizing how well off they are, and for not caring more deeply about the plight of the slaves. Finally, to the right, a group of slaves merrily dance in the background and those foreground seem both slothful and by no means in dire straits (they are well-fed and clothed for example)

Anything seem familiar? It is all here: the snide, wealthy liberal elites who care more about the undeserving (and racially different) than they do about the dignified common (read: white) middle and working classes. The beset upon, earnest white working-class family struggling to be independent and productive. And finally, in the image of the "happy slaves," the racialized "other" who represent social inferiors, yet who still receive all of elite society's sympathy and assistance.

All of this I believe is present in the current conservative movement. Besides the obvious racism of some elements of the Tea Party, for much of the movement there seems to exist an undercurrent of resentment not totally unlike the cartoon above. This feeling, for example, helps explain how so many Tea Party activists can sincerely proclaim the need to roll back government (even to pre-New Deal days), while seeing no problem with big government programs like Medicare and Social Security. The problem is not the existence of such programs, but the fact that to the Tea Party, the liberal elites care more about helping those who do not contribute to society than looking out for the interests of the majority. Take this exchange from Matt Taibbi with several Tea Party activists (bolded text is my emphasis):

"I'm anti-spending and anti-government," crows David, as scooter-bound Janice looks on. "The welfare state is out of control."

"OK," I say. "And what do you do for a living?"

"Me?" he says proudly. "Oh, I'm a property appraiser. Have been my whole life."

I frown. "Are either of you on Medicare?"

Silence: Then Janice, a nice enough woman, it seems, slowly raises her hand, offering a faint smile, as if to say, You got me!

"Let me get this straight," I say to David. "You've been picking up a check from the government for decades, as a tax assessor, and your wife is on Medicare. How can you complain about the welfare state?"

"Well," he says, "there's a lot of people on welfare who don't deserve it. Too many people are living off the government."

"But," I protest, "you live off the government. And have been your whole life!"

"Yeah," he says, "but I don't make very much."

It is essentially the same message as the cartoon: I deserve assistance because I am a model citizen, yet the elites who spend our taxes and have the power in society spend all their time helping the undeserving "other."

How do we deal with this? In future posts I hope to talk more about these racial dimensions. I should note that this comparison is not supposed to dip into territory somehow suggesting the Tea Party is pro-slavery. Nor do I think most of the movement is racist, not in the way most people still think about that term. Having a more honest dialogue about racism could be a small part of the solution. Then there is the issue of making a populism which unites people more than it divides them. That my friends, represents the ultimate question (and thus one I will try to pick at in some small way, another time).

Anti-slavery Electioneering

With all the talk about special interest group politics (damn that "Professional Left"!) it's worth pointing out that "special interests" have also contributed to some of the brighter moments in human history and that the dirty work of politics can achieve real accomplishments.

Take the poster below. As quick context: In 1832, after almost fifty years of campaigning the English anti-slavery movement was on the cusp of achieving the emancipation of all slaves in the English empire. While suffrage was very constricted in England, some people could vote, and professional anti-slavery organizations and citizen committees worked to elect pro-abolition candidates and punish those whose who stood in their way. This campaign also built on momentum caused by the so-called "Baptist War," a slave revolt in Jamaica which is widely seen as hastening emancipation by only further revealing the utter brutality of the slave owners and the instability of the slave system in the British Caribbean. Slavery would end in the empire two years later with the passage of the Slavery Abolition Act of 1833 (a bill that was in many ways deeply flawed, but still a major step forward for human freedom).