Quote

Coming to Terms with Actually-Existing Black Life: A Response to Mia White and Kim Moody — Cedric G. Johnson | New Politics

Featured

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , ,

Source: New Politics

Coming to Terms with Actually-Existing Black Life: A Response to Mia White and Kim Moody

Photo of Johnson, Cedric

By: Cedric G. Johnson April 9, 2019

FacebookTwitterEmail

Over the last five years, Black Lives Matter has served as a broad banner uniting citizens from all walks of life against the most egregious and visible use of police force against black civilians.  Until the election of Donald Trump, who made his “Blue Lives Matter” commitments well-known from the very moment he announced his candidacy, popular demonstrations against police killings spread like prairie fires across the country from Oakland to Ferguson, Missouri, and on to Baltimore, Chicago, Dallas, and Baton Rouge.  As a rallying cry, Black Lives Matter opened up public space for disparate campaigns, networks of grieving families, criminal justice reform organizations, and localized struggles against the carceral state that had been in motion for decades.  At the same time, however, like most great slogans, #BlackLivesMatter advanced a rather straightforward, if not simplistic analysis of the issue at hand, that the problems of policing were primarily racial.  Black Lives Matter fervor also unleashed a torrent of historical misinformation, conspiracy theory, and wrong-headed thinking about politics. In elevating a race-centric interpretation of American life and history, Black Lives Matters has actually had the effect of making it more difficult to think critically and honestly about black life as it exists, in all of its complexity and contradictions.  Rather than clearing a path through the thickets, some left intellectuals have made peace with this overgrowth of bad historical thinking, even though it threatens to choke out the possibility for cultivating the kind of critical left analyses of society we so desperately need.

Mia White’s “In Defense of Black Sentiment,” offers criticism of my 2017 Catalyst essay, “The Panthers Can’t Save Us Now:  Anti-Policing Struggles and the Limits of Black Power,” and Kim Moody’s “Cedric Johnson and the Other Sixties’ Nostalgia” addresses that essay, and my more recent New Politics essay, “Who’s Afraid of Left Populism?”  I appreciate that both White and Moody have taken time to craft responses to my work. I first came to know White as part of a growing, dedicated community of scholars researching the 2005 Hurricane Katrina disaster and the long process of reconstruction and recovery that followed.  White’s work stood out because of its focus on the Mississippi Gulf Coast, often neglected by the urban-studies bias towards the plight of New Orleans.  I’ve never met Moody, but during the aughts, when my economist colleague Chris Gunn and I routinely co-taught a labor course at Hobart and William Smith Colleges, Moody’s writings on American working-class history were instrumental in shaping our approach to the course, and were a mainstay of our assigned readings.  His 1997 book Workers in a Lean World was especially helpful for making sense of the painful impact of globalized production on the once-bustling manufacturing towns surrounding us in Western New York.  While I think we are all on the same side politically, and there are definite points of agreement between our essays, White and Moody rehearse some errant arguments about race, politics, and class power that have become orthodoxy on the contemporary Left. In what follows, I want to contest some of their core claims regarding the character of black political life, the role of contemporary policing in managing surplus population, New Deal social democracy, and African American progress, and finally, the relationship between electoral politics, the Democratic Party, and the future of the American Left.

Both authors abide some version of Black Lives Matter sensibility, sharing a suspicion of class-conscious politics as always reproducing racial disparities historically and into the future.  My central contention with both White and Moody lies in their reluctance to engage in meaningful class analysis of black political life.  Their use of clichés and anachronisms when addressing black life reflects a broader affliction of the contemporary Left.  This difficulty in discussing black life in a critical-historical manner filters out and contaminates interpretations of labor and capital, and ultimately undermines strategic political thinking.  At the start of his essay, Moody says that he “will not attempt to present a different analysis of ‘black exceptionalism’,” but in fact, his and White’s essays are both defenses of black exceptionalism, the very interpretative and discursive sensibility that I have criticized in recent writings.  Black political life is and always has been heterogeneous, a complex of shifting ideological positions and competing interests.  Black political life has always been shaped by broader conflicts between labor and capital, even in the contexts where black non-citizen or second-class citizen status was the norm.  When White and Moody turn to black political life, however, these basic empirical-historical facts of African American political development are minimized, or vanish altogether. This is not a new problem. Continue reading

Quote

Syria, the United States, and the Left — Ella Wind | New Politics

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , ,

Source: New Politics / Hat tip: Alliance of Middle Eastern Socialists

Syria, the United States, and the Left

By: Ella Wind

Winter 2019 (New Politics, Vol. XVII, No. 2, Whole Number 66)

FacebookTwitterEmail

As the war in Syria draws to a close, the debate on the U.S. left over that conflict seems as intractable as ever. The immediacy of Syrian politics for Americans seems to ebb and flow as the war impinges on a shifting but surprisingly broad scope of issues salient to U.S. politics: migration, Islamism, foreign intervention, terrorism, and relations with Iran and Russia. At times its relevance crashes in sudden waves. The photo of Alan Kurdi washed up on a beach seemed to suddenly offer the possibility of a more concerted international effort to resettle refugees humanely. But other waves come, just as fierce as those before. For many, the ISIS-affiliated attacks in France seemed to sweep away the sympathy for the plight of refugees just as quickly as Kurdi’s photo had brought it.

The controversies feel near-mechanical at this point. There are of course the now well-trodden quarrels over the veracity of reports on gas attacks or on the origins of various groups inside Syria. A more general debate pivots on uncovering the “true” nature of the opposition and revolt: Was it an anti-democratic uprising to install an Islamist regime, or was it a democratic and secular revolutionary attempt? What was the exact ratio of these two opposed camps, and when did one or the other take dominance?

As with other international conflicts, there has been contention over how to characterize the involvement of third countries. Many argue that censure of Russian and Iranian involvement in Syria should take second place to condemnation of the United States and its allies’ role. A less persuasive version of this argument, which claims that the United States is at root the primary cause of the world’s woes, suffers from a bizarre version of U.S.-centrism, being overly dismissive of the importance of internal and regional political dynamics. A more compelling case for the U.S. left to retain a primary focus on the imperialism of their own country is offered by Noam Chomsky: “Even if the United States was responsible for 2 percent of the violence in the world instead of the majority of it, it would be that 2 percent I would be primarily responsible for. And that is a simple ethical judgment.”1

This essay does not seek to make an intervention on any of these well-worn debates, as necessary as any of them might be. Whether or not one accepts Chomsky’s argument about a primary moral responsibility for one’s own country’s actions, it does seem that there is an especially large gap on the U.S. left regarding a big-picture understanding of the nature of U.S. involvement in Syria over the past eight years. A less muddled analysis of our government’s actions and intentions is needed.

The argument has often been made that the left is so weak that any foreign policy stance it takes is mostly irrelevant in any case. Yet, in the last few years, with the rise of left groups like the Democratic Socialists of America with some degree of influence on American politics, a future in which leftist debates over far-flung countries might have actual consequences has become less difficult to imagine.2 These debates about moral responsibility are not merely philosophical but also empirical questions. The correct diagnosis requires an accurate understanding of the situation to be resolved. Such an understanding of Syria is unquestionably absent on the left today. Continue reading