Thursday, May 16, 2013

***Poet's Corner-William Wordsworth's Ode To The French Revolution As The Anniversary Approaches


William Wordsworth's famous ode to the beginning of the French revolution is full of all the youthful enthusiasm such a world historic event can elicit. Even in stuffy old Georgian England among the young, the radicals, and some of the plebeian masses the idea that one could break from the ancient regime, from taking humankind, taking French humankind anyway, where one was a mere subject of some arbitrary happenstance (although in England one should have reflected on one’s own monarchial state as well) to a cry of freedom citizen struck a deep chord throughout Europe and the Americas . No wonder the French went crazy, and in almost all classes too, began calling each other citizen, it certainly had a certain cache. At the beginning.

Of course we have now seen enough revolutions to know that they not only have their own cycles but that they, the great ones anyway, English, American, French, Russian, Chinese, are stern task-masters, make simple social patterns long established explode and create new forms, maybe many forms, before they are spent and not a few things go awry as well. Including the hard fact that revolutions have tended to devour their own. Then many a former fellow-traveler, rightly or wrongly, gets cold feet, gets a feeling that this revolution stuff is a lot more complicated that he or she had bargained for. And so they find reasons, rightly or wrongly, to move away from, to disown what they once proclaimed from the rooftops. Such, alas, has been the hard human experience thus far as we try, essentially, to struggle against the three great tragedies of life; sex, death, and hunger. It has been that last one that most modern revolutions, especially ones espousing socialist goals have, concentrated on.

And that seeming plebeian task is, perhaps, why, while there have been some creative artists associated with revolutions that the norm has been that such types, have shied away from non-artistic revolutionary movements. The exceptions like Milton in the English Revolution, Wordsworth in the early French Revolution and Gorky in the Russian Revolution have been driven by stronger political motives, for a time anyway. One also thinks of Andre Breton and the Surrealist whose Manifesto of Revolutionary Art was written in conjunction with Leon Trotsky’s efforts to form a new revolutionary international after the demise of the initial energies of Russian Revolution under Stalin. However , when one looks closely at the relationship between creative artists and revolutionary movements one notes the sparse numbers who have adhered to such movements welcome as they are.

That Wordsworth, like many another former 'friend' of revolutions over the ages, went over to the other side when things got too hot does not however take away from his efforts here in the fresh bloom of the French Revolution.

The French Revolution as it appeared to Enthusiasts

. Oh! pleasant exercise of hope and joy!
For mighty were the auxiliars which then stood
Upon our side, we who were strong in love!
Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,
But to be young was very heaven!—

Oh! times, In which the meagre, stale, forbidding ways
Of custom, law, and statute, took at once
The attraction of a country in romance!
When Reason seemed the most to assert her rights,

When most intent on making of herself
A prime Enchantress--to assist the work
Which then was going forward in her name!
Not favoured spots alone, but the whole earth,

The beauty wore of promise, that which sets
(As at some moment might not be unfelt
Among the bowers of paradise itself )
The budding rose above the rose full blown.

What temper at the prospect did not wake
To happiness unthought of? The inert
Were roused, and lively natures rapt away!
They who had fed their childhood upon dreams,

The playfellows of fancy, who had made
All powers of swiftness, subtilty, and strength
Their ministers,--who in lordly wise had stirred
Among the grandest objects of the sense,

And dealt with whatsoever they found there
As if they had within some lurking right
To wield it;--they, too, who, of gentle mood,
Had watched all gentle motions, and to these

Had fitted their own thoughts, schemers more wild,
And in the region of their peaceful selves;--
Now was it that both found, the meek and lofty
Did both find, helpers to their heart's desire,

And stuff at hand, plastic as they could wish;
Were called upon to exercise their skill,
Not in Utopia, subterranean fields,
Or some secreted island, Heaven knows where!

But in the very world, which is the world
Of all of us,--the place where in the end
We find our happiness, or not at all!

William Wordsworth

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Biggest week of actions yet!
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Bradley Manning Support Network

Week of action for Bradley, June 1-8

Can’t make it to Fort Meade on Sat., June 1st? Help sponsor travel for others -- each $20 will cover a bus ticket for someone who otherwise wouldn’t be able to come. Please note "Bus Sponsor" in the comments field when making your tax-deductible donation.
secret witnesses to testify
Join us at Fort Meade. June 1, 2013
June 1st will mark the beginning of Bradley Manning’s fourth year in prison and the start of his trial. The June 1st Ft. Meade protest for Bradley Manning will be the largest action of our campaign! People across the nation (and the globe) will converge on Ft. Meade to stand up for the Army whistle-blower who risked everything to give the public real facts about our government’s wars in the Middle East and foreign policy worldwide.
Join Pentagon Papers whistle-blower Daniel Ellsberg, LGBT activist US Army Lt. Dan Choi, former US diplomat US Army Col. Ann Wright (ret.), and former soldier Ethan McCord--who rescued the wounded children in the van in the Collateral Murder video—and hundreds of our supporters of heroic WikiLeaks whistle-blower Bradley Manning at Ft. Meade. Together we’ll make history.
Visit our new guide to transportation & lodging near Ft. Meade for help planning your trip.
Buses to the Ft. Meade rally for Bradley are now confirmed from Washington DC, Baltimore, New York City, Philadelphia, and New Brunswick (NJ). Learn more about buses to the Fort Meade demonstration.
For those unable to travel to Ft. Meade, Veterans for Peace, Iraq Veterans Against the War, and the Bradley Manning Support Network, are also calling for solidarity actions from June 1st-June 8th worldwide. So far events have been registered in the following cities:
Los Angeles 6/1/2013,
San Francisco 6/1/2013,
Portland, Maine 6/1/2013,
Tuscon, AZ 6/1/2013,
Honolulu, Hawai`i 6/1/2013,
Tampa, Florida 6/1/2013,
Boston, MA 6/1/2013,
Seattle, WA 6/1/2013,
London, UK 6/1/2013,
Heidelberg, Germany 6/1/2013,
Berlin, Germany 6/1/2013,
San Diego, CA 6/1/2013,
Seattle, WA 6/1/2013,
Tallahassee, Fl 6/2/2013,
Tampa, FL. 6/6/2013,
Montrose, CA 6/7/2013,
If you have planned an event or action, please register it on our website so we can promote it to other supporters in your area. Interested in organizing something but want some ideas, materials, or help contacting other activists in your area? Contact farah@bradleymanning.org for assistance!

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***Poet's Corner-William Wordsworth's Ode To The French Revolution As The Anniversary Approaches



Here is William Wordsworth's famous ode to the beginning of the French revolution full of all the youthful enthusiasm such a world historic event can elicit. That he, like many another former 'friend' of revolutions over the ages, went over to the other side when things got too hot does not take away from his efforts here.

The French Revolution as it appeared to Enthusiasts

. Oh! pleasant exercise of hope and joy!
For mighty were the auxiliars which then stood
Upon our side, we who were strong in love!
Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,
But to be young was very heaven!—

Oh! times, In which the meagre, stale, forbidding ways
Of custom, law, and statute, took at once
The attraction of a country in romance!
When Reason seemed the most to assert her rights,

When most intent on making of herself
A prime Enchantress--to assist the work
Which then was going forward in her name!
Not favoured spots alone, but the whole earth,

The beauty wore of promise, that which sets
(As at some moment might not be unfelt
Among the bowers of paradise itself )
The budding rose above the rose full blown.

What temper at the prospect did not wake
To happiness unthought of? The inert
Were roused, and lively natures rapt away!
They who had fed their childhood upon dreams,

The playfellows of fancy, who had made
All powers of swiftness, subtilty, and strength
Their ministers,--who in lordly wise had stirred
Among the grandest objects of the sense,

And dealt with whatsoever they found there
As if they had within some lurking right
To wield it;--they, too, who, of gentle mood,
Had watched all gentle motions, and to these

Had fitted their own thoughts, schemers more wild,
And in the region of their peaceful selves;--
Now was it that both found, the meek and lofty
Did both find, helpers to their heart's desire,

And stuff at hand, plastic as they could wish;
Were called upon to exercise their skill,
Not in Utopia, subterranean fields,
Or some secreted island, Heaven knows where!

But in the very world, which is the world
Of all of us,--the place where in the end
We find our happiness, or not at all!

William Wordsworth
 

 
 
***Prelude To The American Civil War-Kenneth Stampp’s America In 1857


From The Pen Of Frank Jackman

Book Review
America In 1857:A Nation On The Brink, Kenneth M. Stampp, Oxford University Press,  1990

As we commemorate the 150th anniversary of the American Civil War I have been poring through some books concerning the lead-up to that conflict trying to gather again a picture of what the political, social and economic landscape looked like that in a few short years would tear the American state apart and seriously jeopardize what Abraham Lincoln called this fragile experiment in democracy. The book under review, Kenneth Stampp’s America In 1857 is one such snapshot in time just prior to that war. And a good one.

The historian’s art is all about periodization, you know ages, eras, the times, zeitgeist, and things like that in order to set their arguments. Sometimes the choice is rather an arbitrary construct but here Professor Stampp has set out a pretty good argument for the year 1857 as decisive in the slide to civil war. Certainly the whole decade of the 1850s was filled with events that lead in that direction but 1857 with the inauguration of Democrat James Buchanan is not a bad place, especially over Kansas, to show where the “irrepressible conflict,” free labor or slave, would accelerate that rush to war.
Professor Stampp, who has written other books on antebellum slavery and post-war  reconstruction and so knows the period well, details how the forces that emerged from the presidential election of 1856 where Buchanan beat the upstart Republican Fremont played out in 1857 the first year of his administration. He runs through the important changing political party configurations, especially the final demise of the Whigs and the vanishing of the Know-Nothings and the rise of the anti-slavery Republican Party, the importance of the Dred Scott decision of that year which inflamed both sides on the slavery issue, and the almost infinite varieties of programs presented to find a political solution to the question of slavery expansion from popular sovereignty to filibusters. He also highlights and goes into great detail about the important of the struggle over the admission of Kansas into the Union as a defining issue that set both sides on edge. Many of the names like Douglas, Davis, Seward, Sumner, although not Lincoln’s, that will become familiar in the Civil War period are front and center in the Kansas struggles. Additionally, he factors in the Panic of 1857 and its aftermath in the political struggles of the times. Whether his thesis that 1857 was a decisive year holds up for future historians is uncertain but that he argues his position well and brings the period to life is not.                

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Boston Private Bradley Manning Stand-Out As Part Of An International Day Of Solidarity -Saturday June 1st Park Street Station – 1 PM



Let’s Redouble Our Efforts To Free Private Bradley Manning-President Obama Pardon Bradley Manning -Make Every Town Square In America (And The World) A Bradley Manning Square From Boston To Berkeley to Berlin-Join Us At Park Street Station In Boston On June 1st At 1 PM For A Stand-Out In Solidarity Before Bradley’s June 3rd Trial

Plan to go to Fort Meade outside of Washington, D.C. on June 1st for an international day of solidarity with Bradley before his scheduled June 3rd trial. Check with the Bradley Manning Support Network http://www.bradleymanning.org/for information about going to Fort Meade from your area.

If you can’t make it to Fort Meade come to Park Street Station on June 1st in support of this brave whistle-blower.

The Mulatta



From The Pen Of Frank Jackman
What the hell did he know. He had come from a white world, from a white bread (a word that before he met her was unknown, maybe unknowable, to him), a white world of neighborhoods meant to be kept that way without any overt effort, and certainly without any rancor but that was just the way things were in this wicked old world. You kept to your own and they kept to their own, whoever the “they” were. So he grew to manhood in a neighborhood, a working- class Irish neighborhood mainly with a few Italians thrown in who had come over to work the now worked-out quarries that had made the city famous (that and famous presidents, Presidents of the United States that is). A neighborhood where in early summer before the heat really beat down you could tell it was summer because every kid, or almost every kid, who went to the local beach was bright red from the sun’s exertions. 

There was a standing joke, a joke that should have let him know what was what but didn’t, that the Italian kids, especially the girls (and that was all that really counted in his corner boy guy-driven world) when they tanned up all dark and everything looked like n-----s, looked all black. Of course that was just an unkind joke, meant or not, since what really set the tone of the neighborhood was that in his high school graduating class of almost six hundred there was not one, not one, black student, and not much else for non-white minorities either . Another standing joke was that someone had seen, had actually sighted mind you, an Arab one time in downtown Adamsville. Only passing through though. What was not a joke was that from his house and from many houses in that insulated community you could see a bridge that led to the big city, Boston, and a teeming and growing black ghetto. Yah, so what did he know.       
Yes, so what did he know when he saw her walking down the street, down a friendly sunny early summer Frisco street, Bay Street, young, younger than he from a quick glance, all casually beautiful, brownish skin, long legs, short dress as was the fashion of the time, and some peasant blouse with multi-colored designs worked in, and she smiled at him. Not a “come hither” smile so much as a thanks for the look, and I hope I made your day smile like she had been doing that look and smile response for ten thousand years.  Maybe she had, had done that in five hundred previous generations and it has stuck, stuck deep in the DNA. And that would have been it that except some papers she was carrying in her right hand had blown away in the street after a sudden wind whirl from the bay, not unusual in Frisco town, caught them. He chased after them, retrieved most of them, and returned them to her. And that started a conversation, you know,” thanks,” “oh it was nothing,” “are you a student?” and then a few seconds silence while he/she calculated whether this thing should be a start or a finish. A start. He asked her where she was a student, she said, part-time over a San Francisco State. He told her that he had finished school, had headed to California to see what it was all about and stuff like that. And so they talked for a while. And after a while they headed to one of the cafes that dotted Mission Street just then.

So they did the eternal boy-girl thing, had a few drinks, a couple of stutter laughs and so maybe that was that. He hoped not although as they were talking he noticed that she would keep wiping her nose, not from a cold nose, and he thought maybe she was into cocaine, coke, girl, since he had tried it a few times and had the same reaction with the nose. He had given it up after a short while for just that reason, and also that he was far more comfortable with an occasional joint, some weed, marijuana the drug of choice then, mainly among the young. He asked her for a date just out of the blue, asked her if she lived in a dorm, or something and she said no, she lived over on a street in South San Francisco, a street that she gave him directions to since as a newcomer he was unfamiliar with that part of town. She said to pick her up there the next afternoon. He asked her why not a date at night and she said she was busy then.  Yah, so what did he know.                      
The next afternoon after about seven wrong turns and mis-directions he wound up at her address, an address that turned out to be in the heart of the black ghetto, although unlike back East the houses looked well-kept up and did not have that Boston shanty town look. He was afraid, very afraid, since he had never actually been in such a situation before, and was further afraid every time a black man looked at him with black man eyes, eyes that said “what the hell are you doing here white bread, go back to your own turf,” although, there was no apparent menace behind those eyes. He rang the doorbell to her apartment, the front foyer door opened and he walked up to the second floor where she lived. She opened the door and entered her small apartment which was half student modern, half dope den. He was familiar with that look from some places in Boston where he had friends so that did not scare him off. Nor did the telltale mirror on the coffee table in front of a flop house sofa, a universal sight in those days. And on the mirror were a couple of random lines of coke that were waiting to be inhaled. He asked her if they were for her use she said-“ Yes, was that a problem?” He said no although he related his own negative cocaine experiences and she said she felt the opposite. He shrugged his shoulders.

He really didn’t think much of that cocaine situation one way or the other because if that had bothered him he would have cut the thing short the previous day. He was more and more intrigued by her. What set off an explosion though was when he asked her why she was living in a black neighborhood. Was she trying to save money on rent or something. She laughed, laughed a self-conscious laugh that he thought was making fun of him. She told him she was black, well, not all black, black and white, a mulatto, a mulatta. He freaked for a minute and then blurted out that he thought she was either Italian or Mexican or something like that and that look was what intrigued him. He started, self-consciously, to tell her about where he came from to explain why he had freaked for a minute, about his white bread prior existence but she cut him short a little, cut him short by saying was he going to stay or go, stay and they maybe could work something out. Go and that would be that. He half-stuttered “stay.” Then she went to that flop house sofa, sat down, rolled up a dollar bill and snorted a line of coke. She offered him a line; he hesitated and then said “what the hell.”
Later, after a few more lines, and a little talk they went to her bedroom. After their sweaty exertions, after she made him holler to high heaven with her body moves he blurted out that although he had never been with a black woman before it didn’t seem that different except she was more thoughtful and inventive about her love-making that the white girls he had known. She laughed. Then they both laughed. Both knowing that he was in for the ride, that she had him hooked, and that they would see where this trouble led them. Yah, so what did he know.           

 
Lynne Stewart - breaking news re release application-Free Lynne Stewart

Please forward widely and immediately...


Dear Friends of Lynne Stewart and Mumia Abu-Jamal,


Here's the latest news further indicating that a recommendation from Judge Koelt to grant Lynne compassionate release to her family's New York City home and thence to Sloan Kettering Cancer Center may be close at hand. We are awaiting confirmation.


Please read the material below and redouble your efforts to obtain additional signatures on the petition for Lynne's release.


I am presently scheduled to visit with Lynne at FMC Carswell in Fort Worth,Texas. It is my greatest hope that I can cancel my plane tickets and instead visit Lynne at her new home in New York. The fight for her return to good health, as difficult as that will be, will continue as well as her winning her freedom as Lynne pursues her legal battle demanding that the U.S. Supreme Court hear her appeal.


There is absolutely no doubt that the progress that we have collectively made to date opens the door wide to further victories. Let us all press on at this critical moment.


In solidarity,


Jeff Mackler, West Coast Coordinator, Lynne Stewart Defense Committee
*** Please forward widely ****
1. BREAKING NEWS - May 13, 2013 2:00 p.m. PST:

The International Petition Campaign to Free Lynne Stewart and Save Her Life is gratified to report that today, May 13, following urgent communications from former Attorney General Ramsey Clark and social activist Dick Gregory, that Federal Bureau of Prisons (FBP) General Counsel Kathleen Kenney telephoned Ramsey Clark to advise that a recommendation of Compassionate Release for Lynne Stewart from FMC Carswell Warden Jody R. Upton is on the desk of FBP Director Charles E. Samuels, Jr. with a full package of documentation.

Ramsey Clark and the International Petition Campaign are on stand-by for further news regarding Federal Bureau of Prisons implementation of Compassionate Release for Lynne Stewart with the appropriate filing of this Motion with Judge John Koetl.

We call upon all to intensify our collective efforts and expand the Petition Campaign as this life and death decision for Lynne Stewart is pending.

Our grateful thanks to all for your dedication and commitment in waging this struggle for justice, compassion and freedom for Lynne Stewart
(This Breaking News Update was prepared by Co-Cordinators Mya Shone, Ralph Schoenman and Ralph Poynter.)
*****************************************
2. Email from We Will Not Be Silent:
LYNNE STEWART SHOULD BE FREE
We will stand for love, courage and solidarity to make the call for Lynne to return home.

STAND WITH THE MANY
NOT WITH THE FEW
On April 26, 2013, people gathered outside the gates of the U.S. Federal Prison in Carswell, Texas where Lynne Stewart is being held.
3. Write a letter to Charles Samuels, who is looking at Lynne's case. Write that Lynne Stewart should be discharged on Compassionate Release grounds.
Charles E. Samuels, Jr., Director
Federal Bureau of Prisons
321 First Street NW
Washington, DC 20534
4. We will come out to stand together in Foley Square, NYC, this Wednesday, in Lynne's city and stand up for her. We will create a public presence from Carswell, Texas to Times Square, to Foley Square, New York to stand for compassion, for love, for justice for Lynne Stewart and ask others to stand with us.
We will be part of this wave of humanity...
to get justice done to bring Lynne home.
We will not delay. Time is of the essence.
In Lynne's own words, "until my feet are planted like the Tree that grows in Brooklyn and I am around my friends, family and comrades... we must continue. Fight On!!"

Out In The Be-Bop 1950s Night- The Drifter Of No Known Trade, Take Two



From The Pen Of Frank Jackman

As the drifter of no known trade (that is the moniker that he gave himself although if you look for a birth certificate, driver’s license or, more importantly, through the police files you will no such name. You will however find William James Bradley, Willie Brads, William Lee, Billie Wills and at least one half dozen other aliases depending on where you look and the town but “drifter” and keep in mind the add on “of no known trade” will do here.) sat down on the windy day Boston Common park bench he eyed a beat cop eyeing him. A copper ready, willing, and able to add him to his resume, to his weekly quota, hell, maybe to his pension time the way those guys worked their retirement racket. The drifter had that look about him, the look, hell, these days too maybe the smell of con. Funny the park was filled with people, mothers or nursemaids with little children, a couple of young lovebirds, a wino singing to himself , a couple of girls, one white, one black, with the look of strictly trade about them, whom he sensed were walking the streets looking for tricks and who were just then gathering themselves for the next push.
All that was going on and that copper only had eyes for him. He didn’t know the cop from Adam and since he was new in town, had just drifted back a couple of days before, the cop didn’t know him either (and he looked too young to have nabbed him on anything at any time). But it was always the same story, the same story since childhood, but more recently since he had been on the nod it seemed every cop in every city had his number. Maybe they were right to take that stare what with him in a “seen better days” trench coat, soiled and spattered pants a size or two too big these days, worn-out shoes (worn from many miles of hobo wandering and hitchhike standing on desolate two in the morning no traffic side roads), needing a shave and a haircut and topped off with a soft fedora hat, fairly new and of a Kelly green color ,that did not in any way, shape or form, go with the rest of the outfit. But such are the ways of the nod, and maybe such are the cop antenna that they sense the nod, or at least in a park sense that some connection is about to be made and they should keep on their toes. As the cop started heading his way slowly, feeling his way, the drifter started working his way back in his mind about how it all had gone awry. When he thought such thoughts and they had not been often that indicated that he was in need of some fix, some connection, although he was only sitting on this bench just then to rest, to rest the rest of the weary. And think.

He swore as a kid back in those North Adamsville projects (the town located a short way from Boston and the Common he was sitting in just then) to his corner boy gang that he would never do a lick of work in his life, nine to five work, back-breaking work like many fathers, including his, did and had the damn tumbledown project life to show for their efforts. No that scene was not for him. He figured, figured almost right back then, back in the mid-1950s that he could take his good looks (all the girls were crazy for him then and he would give his “leavings,” his rejects, to his corner boys after he was done with them), his good singing voice, and his, well, style and make it as a rock and roll star with plenty of dough, girls and everything. And he almost made it except a funny thing happened. His voice changed, changed to a gruff if manly voice that might have later made it as some sissy boy folk singer but not as a rock star. So that dream road out smashed he had to hustle, hustle like crazy to keep up with expenses and the like.
That is where he started presenting himself under the moniker of the “drifter with no known trade.” One day a guy came up to him, a guy who was interested (not a cop) in finding out how a guy with no known trade had such a “boss” car, some nice duds, a couple of foxy chicks and plenty of dough. He replied that he was doing a little of this and a little of that, just a drifter of no known trade and that was that. End of story. Well not quite the end. See he was robbing everything that was not tied down, first around North Adamsville, then in Boston, and later in Philly. And he was good at it, made some dough and planned big heists, some that came off, a couple you might have read about in the newspapers that were never solved, until she came along.

No, not a woman she, sister, cocaine, snow, girl, although a woman was part of it. A young girl from Philly, a society girl that he was trying to ply for her society connections as well as trying to ply her, Ellen, took him up as partner in snorting every line put in front of her. She said she was bored with tea (grass, herb, marijuana whatever you call it in your neighborhood) and wanted to branch out. He liked it after trying it, liked that she liked it, liked that they got all sexy (for a while before the hunt to keep connected, always connected, took the edge off) and made endless bed time. Then the other shoe dropped. Her habit, and then his, got him to take more risks, to get “rum” brave and plan a big heist, a heist that went awry and which cost him to two to five (she, society girl she, got off with five years’ probation, but he wasn’t squawking).
When he got out, the world had changed a little, the dough wasn’t around, he had not been around, the cops started looking his way more closely everywhere he went. So he moved again. This time to New Orleans, New Orleans and graduation day. Cocaine, coke, was not doing it for him anymore, he needed more of a kick and then some whore he ran into on the street turned him on to boy, H, heroin. And the nod. A couple more years in stir, give or take, for this and that, mostly drug dealing now and then to keep even with his habit. And now a park bench, a cop heading his way and maybe thirty days “vag.” Hell, maybe this time he would go cold turkey and get well, real well, maybe even get a job, get a trade. Nah, he wasn’t built for that stuff …


The Class Struggle- With Preston Sturges’ Christmas In July In Mind

 From The Pen Of Frank Jackman  

Christmas In July, starring Dick Powell, directed by Preston Sturges  

Scene: A boy from the tenements, the New York City tenements from the high rise backdrop feel of it, the respectable working poor tenements not the rough-edged Hell’s Kitchen variety filled with pug uglies and the dregs of society if you please, is daydreaming, no, night dreaming with his girl about what they would do if they had some real dough. Real dough in the times we are talking about, maybe the late1930s early 1940s, being about twenty-five thousand dollar. Nothing but walking around money today but serious dough back then, especially for boys and girls who came up the hard way living on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Spam, or some such variations. And what they dream of coming out of the Great Depression is not some mansion or Rolls Royce but a little cottage for two (maybe for more later, after they tie the knot), with a white picket fence out in, well, out in not New York City tenement land. Maybe a nice Nash Rambler, a few bucks in the bank after taking care of the extended family and easy street all wrapped in a bow. Just like today except like I say, today you had better add some zeros to that easy street number discussed above.
Of course sitting on some star-crossed tenement rooftop dreaming such dreams does not get you to square one in the quest for easy street. You have to have an idea, a good idea, and work your butt off to prove that you are worthy of such easy street luxuries. And so boy, Dick, and girl, Ellen, just dream the dream and go to their nine to five prison office jobs and place those aforementioned dreams on hold just like millions of other in depression times or not. But not so fast. See Dick has an idea, an idea of himself as a budding Madison Avenue mad man ad man and with just a break or two, just a little whisper in some hot- shot’s ear might be just the thing to push him alone. Wouldn’t you know just as Dick is about give up hope he decides to screw up his courage and walk right in the general manager’s office with his bag full of ad ideas, good ones too, the ones not so good he left on the cutting room floor. Ads that will make confirmed tea drinkers cry out in the night for coffee, that will make housewives who swear by virtues of pure butter scratch each other’s eyes out getting to the dairy counter for oleomargarine, and make formerly satisfied Camel smokers turn with nicotine rage until they can get their hands on a fresh deck of  Lucky Strikes. More than one man, more than one company too, would be willing to pay a pretty penny for such results if only they were aware that such a budding ad man existed on the planet.                        

Dick finally did screw up that courage, finally did go into the general manager’s office and present his case. And while the general manager was skeptical about some of Dick’s ad ideas he passed the material on up the chain of command to the boss man, the owner, who liked many of his ideas, and thought they had some merit. And as a reward for such good ideas and the willingness to go to the mat for them Dick moved over from his thirty- dollar a week desk job along with forty others all arranged in rows of ten checking invoices to the ad department creating ads at fifty- dollars a week along with thirty others all arranged in rows of ten. Of course if somebody had an idea to make a movie of Dick’s’ life (and don’t forget faithful Ellen) he would have as a result of his pluck been on happy ending easy street cavorting with the Mayfair swells, working hard on the nightclub circuit and dreaming with Ellen out in some cozy little suburban cottage. But this is a saga of the class struggle, not about tinsel town movies and so it goes.           

 

Monday, May 13, 2013

Wounded Knee Massacre Site Up for Sale-Give It Back to the Oglala!

Workers Vanguard No. 1023
3 May 2013

Give It Back to the Oglala!

Wounded Knee Massacre Site Up for Sale

There is no more potent symbol of the genocide, wholesale land theft and dispossession meted out to the Native American peoples than Wounded Knee. It was the site of the last battle of the so-called Indian Wars—the 1890 massacre of some 300 men, women and children by the U.S. Army’s Seventh Cavalry. This was the same Seventh Cavalry once headed by one George Armstrong Custer, which was routed in the battle of Little Big Horn by the Lakota and their allies four years earlier. That may well have accounted for just how bloodthirsty the Army’s slaughter at Wounded Knee was. It was due to that legacy that this was also the site of the 1973 American Indian Movement (AIM) occupation and subsequent stand-off with federal agents armed to the teeth.

For the next three years, the Oglala Sioux Pine Ridge Reservation was subjected to a reign of terror by hundreds of FBI and Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) agents, supplemented by trained and armed thugs. Some 69 tribal members were victims of unsolved murders. Mass arrests were carried out and militants like Leonard Peltier were framed up and imprisoned (see accompanying article).

Adding insult to grave injury, the Wounded Knee site is now up for sale by a private owner for $3.9 million. The Oglala reportedly have a May 1 deadline to come up with the money or the site may be sold to one of the investment groups that have made offers. To say that the Oglala Sioux are cash-strapped is a cruel understatement. Having had their land stolen through broken treaties as well as by legislation sanctioning massive land grabs and sales to non-Native settlers as part of allotment schemes, those who survive at Pine Ridge live in conditions of absolute hopeless poverty. From 1980 to 2000, the counties that make up Pine Ridge comprised the poorest in the country. The 2000 census found them the third poorest, only because things got worse on two other South Dakota reservations. As of 2007, the unemployment rate was a staggering 80-90 percent, per capita income was $4,000, and teens committed suicide at four times the national rate. Infant mortality is three times the national rate, and life expectancy is the lowest in the United States and second-lowest in the Western Hemisphere, after Haiti.

The U.S. government stole the lands around Wounded Knee. They should be given back to the Oglala to do with as they see fit! There is no way to undo the destruction of the aboriginal tribes by the racist rulers who founded their republic on the backs of black chattel slaves and whose westward march was guided by the spirit of General Sheridan’s infamous remark: “There are no good Indians but dead Indians.” Only the destruction of capitalism through proletarian revolution and the inauguration of the era of socialist development can ensure the all-sided, voluntary integration of American Indians into society on the basis of the fullest equality and meet the special needs created by a history of injustice and oppression.

Last year, the Departments of Justice and the Interior (which oversees the Bureau of Indian Affairs) announced a $1 billion settlement over nearly 56 million acres of Indian land held “in trust” by Washington but in fact exploited by timber, farming, mining and other commercial interests with little benefit to the tribes. Attorney General Eric Holder proclaimed that the settlement “fairly and honorably resolves historical grievances over the accounting and management of tribal trust funds, trust lands and other non-monetary trust resources that, for far too long, have been a source of conflict between Indian tribes and the United States” (London Guardian, 4 May 2012). Ha!

The reality is that the successive defeats of the Native Americans in their struggles to preserve some independence from the capitalist state are reflected in the changes in the legal status of the tribes. In 1830, the Supreme Court ruled that the tribes “had always been considered as distinct, independent, political communities, retaining their original natural rights,” only to be informed by President Andrew Jackson that the Court could try to enforce this decision, but he controlled the army and was going to relocate the Cherokee. He did so under his bluntly named Indian Removal Act of 1830. Some 20,000 Cherokees were marched at gunpoint from Georgia to Oklahoma, with a quarter of those perishing on this Trail of Tears.

The Dawes Act of 1887 broke up, with few exceptions, what remained of the native communal holdings through a land-allotment system that gave small parcels to individual Native Americans and threw the rest onto the open market. Although citizenship was finally granted to Native Americans in 1924, the government has maintained an essentially custodial relationship to the reservations, holding the land “in trust.”

Until the New Deal’s Indian Reorganization Act (IRA) of 1934, the reservations were ruled autocratically by BIA agents. Designed as a reform measure to introduce limited self-rule, the IRA resulted in the creation of a layer of Indian bureaucrats on the reservations who rubber-stamp government policies and sell tribal land and mineral holdings. Later the government attempted to terminate tribal status and thereby end federal assistance programs and tax exemptions, the economic margin upon which many survive. Through this, the capitalist rulers washed their hands of the remnants of the Native American population.

Denied the old world of the tribe, shattered forever, and the new world of capitalist society, whose doors were closed, Native Americans have borne the full brunt of a capitalist system that long ago entered its period of decay. V.I. Lenin insisted that the revolutionary Marxist party must act as a tribune of the people, and it is as such that we call for the return of the Wounded Knee Massacre site to the Oglala Sioux, whose blood was spilled in a vindictive U.S. war crime. Proletarian revolutionaries seek to sear into the collective memory of the working class and the oppressed the genocidal near-destruction of the Native peoples. Under workers rule, new generations will be instructed in the history of capitalist barbarism, smashed once and for all through victorious proletarian socialist revolution. As the youth group of the Spartacist League wrote in the concluding part of the Young Spartacus three-part series on “Marxism and the American Indian Question” (Nos. 27, 28 and 31; December 1974, January and April 1975):

“Oppressed national and racial minorities throughout the world will look to the future workers state in this country to measure the commitment of the American proletariat to provide for the social emancipation and voluntary assimilation of Indians into society....

“Indians represent a significant part of the historical development of mankind, and revolutionary socialists understand their cultural uniqueness and share a mutual interest in preserving aspects of the Indians’ cultural heritage. This knowledge will help correct centuries of cultural erosion and social stagnation, to overcome the backwardness of reservation life and at the same time allow Indians, if they choose, to maintain their social identity.”

Budget Slashers Attack City College of San Francisco-For Free, Quality, Integrated Education for All!

Workers Vanguard No. 1023
3 May 2013

For Free, Quality, Integrated Education for All!

Budget Slashers Attack City College of San Francisco

(Young Spartacus pages)

City College of San Francisco (CCSF), one of the few remaining avenues to higher education for its 85,000 predominantly working-class, poor and minority students, is threatened with being shut down. Last July, the Accrediting Commission for Community and Junior Colleges (ACCJC) told the college that it would lose accreditation—i.e., face closure—if it did not sufficiently address the commission’s demands for fiscal and structural changes. The ACCJC particularly cited the costs of CCSF’s wages and benefits for the unionized faculty and campus workers. Seizing on the threatened sanction, the campus administration unilaterally imposed an 8.8 percent wage cut and began axing faculty and clerical workers’ jobs, paving the way to slashing more classes and even entire programs. Already, the administration has announced that it plans to close two of CCSF’s nine campus sites.

The ACCJC’s own report makes clear that the accreditation sanction has nothing to do with the quality of education at CCSF. In fact, the report commends “several exemplary models of demonstrated educational quality.” What they object to is that such programs and the unionized faculty who staff the departments haven’t been sufficiently slashed. Their purpose is to streamline programs that educate technicians and other skilled workers as are needed by business and get rid of the rest. Such cuts could potentially target bilingual education, food service and hospitality classes that allow working-class youth to get jobs in SF’s unionized hotel industry, as well as job-training programs for those just released from America’s prison hellholes.

California’s community college system is the largest in the country. For years it had provided working-class and poor youth with their best shot at getting into the elite University of California (UC) system, while offering other such students their only access to any education beyond the increasingly underfunded and decrepit high schools. But having wiped out whole swaths of industry and manufacturing, the American bourgeoisie has for decades been choking off funding for public education, seeing little value in educating youth for whom there are no jobs.

The attacks against CCSF are part of a broad nationwide assault on public schools and teachers unions. And California has led the nation on this score, particularly since the passage of Proposition 13 in 1978. A tax revolt by white property owners, Prop. 13 cut spending on social programs benefiting black people, minorities and the poor, with schools taking some of the biggest hits. The 2007-08 capitalist economic meltdown sent the budget-slashing, union-busting drive into high gear. Funding for the community college system has been slashed by over $1 billion, a quarter of classes have been cut entirely, and despite the fiction of “free tuition” the fees for classes have risen by an astronomical 255 percent in nine years.

Over the last several months, CCSF students, as well as faculty organized in the American Federation of Teachers (AFT), have participated in rallies against the attacks on the college. Protests organized by the Save CCSF Coalition, in which the reformist Socialist Organizer (S.O.) plays a leading role, have pleaded with CCSF Chancellor Thelma Scott-Skillman and the Board of Trustees to “reverse all cuts” and “promote equity.” A banner at a February 21 protest demanded “Trustees: Put Us First! We Are S.F. City College!” Fat chance of that! The whole purpose of the Board of Trustees is to enforce the dictates of the capitalist rulers whose interests they represent, and that means bringing down the budget ax. S.O. couples its entreaties to the good offices of the Chancellor with appeals to the bourgeoisie to fork out more tax money to fund education.

The government’s tax code flows from the class and social relations that define racist American capitalism, a system of production for profit based on the exploitation of labor and the brutal subjugation of black people. Look at Proposition A—a property parcel tax intended specifically to provide funds to stop budget cuts and layoffs at CCSF. Recognizing the importance of the school, an overwhelming majority of SF voters supported Prop. A in last November’s elections. But the rulers hold the purse strings. As Chancellor Scott-Skillman and the Board of Trustees made clear, they have no intention of using these funds to “save CCSF.” Rather, they have pledged that money raised under Prop. A will go to building up the college’s financial reserves, while the axing of jobs and classes continues.

There is no lack of money in this rich country that could be used to provide free, quality education for all. But for working people to get their hands on that wealth will require nothing less than socialist revolution to break the power of the bourgeoisie. It is this revolutionary perspective that guides the Spartacus Youth Club, which has intervened into student and labor rallies protesting the closure of CCSF. As a Spartacist speaker declared at a February 21 protest:

“CCSF isn’t going to be saved by appealing to the chancellor or the campus administration, which really exists to serve the capitalist rulers on the campus.... And it isn’t going to be saved by appealing for ‘bridge loans’ to the Democratic Party city administration, which has been cutting wages, benefits and jobs for workers all over the city. Alongside the students, there has to be mobilized the power of the workers, the people who make this city run.... The people who go to school here are the children of working-class people, and working people in this city and the whole Bay Area have an innate interest in fighting to save CCSF. And that fight must be mobilized around the call for free, quality, integrated education for everybody.”

The SYC demands: No tuition, open admissions and a full living stipend for all students! Abolish the Board of Trustees and the administration! Those who work, study and teach at the colleges and universities should run them—for worker/student/teacher control!

Race and Class Privilege in Education

Contrary to the myth that college and university campuses are ivory towers that exist apart from the broader society, the attack on CCSF shows in the realm of higher education the race and class privilege at the core of American capitalism. The whole history of the community college system provides a concrete demonstration that the bourgeoisie seeks to spend on educating poor and working-class youth only what they can realize back in profit through the exploitation of their labor. From the beginning, the conception of such colleges was to provide skilled workers and technicians for industry. They massively grew in the aftermath of World War II, particularly to provide workers for the growing defense industries that had moved to California. Indeed, when these industries faced a labor shortage during the war, California shipyard owners recruited untrained and often semiliterate Southern youth, many of them black, who learned how to read and write and often became skilled apprentices in little more than three months.

Following the war, the GI Bill provided free tuition for those who had served as cannon fodder for U.S. imperialism. Working-class and poor families thought that their sons and daughters would finally have access to higher education and a better future. But with enrollment skyrocketing, including many knocking on the door for entry into the prestigious University of California system, a committee headed by UC Berkeley Chancellor Clark Kerr came up with the Master Plan for Education in 1960. Qualifications for getting into UC were ramped up to limit enrollment to the top 12 percent of high school graduates. Meanwhile, the California state colleges, which previously had largely been teacher-training institutions, became officially recognized as liberal arts colleges. Qualifications for entry were tightened to apply to only 33 percent of high school graduates as opposed to the previous 50 to 70 percent. Community and junior colleges were to take and train the rest.

Affirmative action—a limited gain of the civil rights movement—allowed some access to the UC system for blacks and other minority youth. But these programs have been destroyed. California was in the vanguard of the campaign to roll back affirmative action. Moreover, poor, black and working-class youth were increasingly priced out of the UC market as tuition skyrocketed. The bourgeoisie increasingly considers the masses of black people in the inner cities as a “surplus population,” no longer needed as a reserve army of labor and thus not “worth” providing with even the basic means of survival, much less education.

As we wrote in early 2010, at a time of massive student and campus worker protests against tuition hikes, education cuts and job-slashing attacks:

“We think everyone should have access to the same quality education available to the sons and daughters of the bourgeoisie. We call to nationalize the private universities and for a state-paid living stipend so working people and the poor can attend. We demand the expansion of remedial programs for students relegated to inner-city public schools, an end to the racist ‘tracking’ system in the high schools and their genuine integration, including through the aggressive implementation of busing. Whether this is possible or not is in reality determined by the outcome of class and social struggle. Under capitalism, gains wrested from the ruling class through social struggle are limited and reversible. As communists, our goal is not what is possible within the framework of capitalist society, but the revolutionary overthrow of capitalist class rule and the establishment of a workers state as a transition to the construction of a classless, egalitarian society where scarcity has been eliminated and education is the right of all.”

—“ Protests Against Education Cuts and Fee Hikes Sweep California,” WV No. 950, 15 January 2010

The Dead End of Pressure Politics

Reformist “socialists” perennially peddle the lie that capitalism can be reformed to serve the interests of the working class and oppressed. To this end, Socialist Organizer even offers budgetary advice to the bourgeoisie. In a leaflet titled “Don’t Let the 1% Dismantle CCSF,” which was distributed at a March 14 protest at SF City Hall, S.O. opines:

“They tell us that there is no money, so we have to cut back or they will close our school. They are lying. There are many obvious solutions to CCSF’s and California’s financial woes: taxing the rich, taxing oil extraction, cutting prison and war funding, and/or amending Prop 13. Cuts are not inevitable. The school and the state is [sic] facing a priorities crisis—not a budget crisis” (emphasis in original).

The only “priority” for the bourgeoisie is the maintenance of their class rule and the protection and expansion of their global imperialist interests. That will not change short of socialist revolution. S.O. stops short of even the utopian call that reformists often raise for the capitalist rulers to end imperialist war. They simply and explicitly accept the capitalist machinery of repression, only urging that less money be spent on maintaining the prisons and subjugating peoples around the world.

At the same time, S.O. can talk out of the left side of its mouth, making a nod in its leaflet to mobilizing the power of organized labor and even writing that this “requires breaking labor’s subordination to the Democratic Party.” They acknowledge that “winning free, quality public education for all…requires eliminating capitalism and replacing it with a socialist society.” But this is window-dressing for their work on the ground as leaders of the Save CCSF Coalition.

From the podium at the March 14 rally, the speech by S.O.’s Eric Blanc had not a scintilla of “socialism.” He complained, “Unfortunately, the politicians have remained silent up until this moment,” adding that “when our school is under attack, the responsibility of the people who are elected from this city is to save our school, not dismantle it.” Indeed, a core demand of the Coalition is that “San Francisco’s elected representatives must step in” as allies providing funds and political support to the fight to save CCSF. S.O. & Co. appeal to Mayor Ed Lee and the Democratic-controlled city administration—the same capitalist politicians cutting the wages, benefits and pensions of city workers, including members of SEIU Local 1021, which also represents CCSF clerical employees.

Thus, like the trade-union bureaucracy, which has long subordinated labor to the Democratic Party, S.O. serves to channel the protests into the bourgeois electoral shell game. The idea that the Democrats—the other party of American capitalist rule—are the allies of the working class and poor has long served as a key prop for maintaining the system of racist U.S. imperialism.

As the youth auxiliary to the Marxist Spartacist League, the purpose of the Spartacus Youth Clubs is to win a new generation of students and youth to the fight to build a revolutionary workers party. Only under the leadership of such a party can the working class realize its social power and historic interests as the gravediggers of this system of wage slavery, racial oppression, poverty and war. The working class must seize state power and reorganize society on an egalitarian socialist basis, providing for the needs of the many rather than the profits of a tiny class of exploiters. The essential precondition for human emancipation from starvation, exploitation, ignorance and inequality is a planned, socialized economy on a global scale. Only in this way can the accumulated knowledge and culture of civilization be truly appropriated by those who are today deprived of the right to quality education. 

Proletarian Revolution: Answer to Capitalist Decay-From The Pen Of Leon Trotsky

Workers Vanguard No. 1023
3 May 2013

TROTSKY

LENIN

Proletarian Revolution: Answer to Capitalist Decay

(Quote of the Week)

The austerity and massive unemployment racking the southern tier of the European Union are hallmarks of the ongoing world economic crisis. In contrast to Eduard Bernstein, who projected that socialism would peacefully evolve from the bourgeois order, and other revisionists who predicted a final capitalist collapse, revolutionary Marxists understand that not even the most severe crisis is sufficient in itself to sweep this system away. Rather, as Leon Trotsky wrote, only proletarian revolution can lift humanity from capitalist decay.

The Bernsteinians outlined two perspectives: one, unreal, allegedly orthodox “Marxist,” according to which in the long run, under the influence of the internal contradictions of capitalism, its mechanical collapse was supposed to take place; and the second, “realistic,” according to which a gradual evolution from capitalism to socialism was to be accomplished. Antithetical as these two schemas may be at first glance, they are nevertheless united by a common trait: the absence of the revolutionary factor. While they disavowed the caricature of the automatic collapse of capitalism attributed to them, the Marxists demonstrated that, under the influence of the sharpening class struggle, the proletariat would carry through the revolution long before the objective contradictions of capitalism could lead to its automatic collapse....

The most important component of the theory of collapse was the theory of pauperization. The Marxists contended, with some prudence, that the sharpening of social contradictions need not signify unconditionally an absolute drop in the standard of living of the masses. But in reality, it is precisely this latter process which is unfolding. Wherein could the collapse of capitalism express itself more acutely than in chronic unemployment and the destruction of social insurance, that is, the refusal of the social order to feed its own slaves?

The opportunistic brakes in the working class have proved to be powerful enough to grant the elemental forces of outlived capitalism additional decades of life. As a result, it is not the idyll of the peaceful transformation of capitalism into socialism which has taken place, but a state of affairs infinitely closer to social decay....

Reformism will be unable to shift the historical responsibility from itself. By paralyzing and curbing the revolutionary energy of the proletariat, the international Social Democracy invests the process of the capitalist collapse with the blindest, most unbridled, catastrophic, and bloody forms.

Of course, one cannot speak of a realization of the revisionist caricature of Marxism except conditionally, in applying it to some given historical period. The way out of decaying capitalism, however, will be found, even if after a great delay, not upon the road of the automatic collapse but upon the revolutionary road.

—Leon Trotsky, “The Only Road” (14 September 1932), reprinted in The Struggle Against Fascism in Germany (1971)