Wednesday, February 19, 2020

Black Liberation Struggle: The Key to American Socialist Revolution Part Two In observance of Black History Month, we are pleased to publish the conclusion of an educational presented in December by comrade Jacob Zorn at a gathering of the Spartacist League in New York. Part One appeared in WV No. 1148 (8 February).


[American Left History publishes or re-publishes articles and notices of events that might be of interest to the liberal, left-liberal and radical public. That has been the policy generally since the publication due to financial constraints went solely on-line in the early 2000s as the Internet has allowed new and simply outlets for all kinds of material that were almost impossible to publish when it was solely hard copy going back to the early 1970s.

Over the past couple of months American Left History has received many comments about our policy of publishing materials and notices of events without comment. More than a few comments wondered aloud whether the publication agreed with all, or most of what has been published. Obviously given that we will republish material from sources like the ACLU, the movement for nuclear disarmament and established if small left-wing organizations formally outside the main party system in America unless we were mere by-standers to the political movements many of the positions are too contrary to agree with all of them.   

Policy: unless there is a signed statement of agreement by one of our writers, me or the Editorial Board assume that the article or notice is what we think might be of interest of the Left-wing public and does not constitute and endorsement. Greg Green, site manager]    

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[American Left History publishes or re-publishes articles and notices of events that might be of interest to the liberal, left-liberal and radical public. That has been the policy generally since the publication due to financial constraints went solely on-line in the early 2000s as the Internet has allowed new and simply outlets for all kinds of material that were almost impossible to publish when it was solely hard copy going back to the early 1970s.

Over the past couple of months American Left History has received many comments about our policy of publishing materials and notices of events without comment. More than a few comments wondered aloud whether the publication agreed with all, or most of what has been published. Obviously given that we will republish material from sources like the ACLU, the movement for nuclear disarmament and established if small left-wing organizations formally outside the main party system in America unless we were mere by-standers to the political movements many of the positions are too contrary to agree with all of them.   

Policy: unless there is a signed statement of agreement by one of our writers, me or the Editorial Board assume that the article or notice is what we think might be of interest of the Left-wing public and does not constitute and endorsement. Greg Green, site manager]    

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Workers Vanguard No. 1148
8 February 2019
Black Liberation Struggle: The Key to American Socialist Revolution
(Part One)
In observance of Black History month, we are pleased to publish an educational presented in December by comrade Jacob Zorn at a gathering of the Spartacist League in New York.
When I was asked to give a class on the black question, I was somewhat taken aback. The black question covers much ground and is central to both American society as a whole and our own history. I am not going to even pretend to cover the entirety of the history of black oppression in North America, much less the entire world. I want to underscore that being a cadre requires constant political study, and part of this is studying the black question. No class can teach you everything you need to know about the black question.
What do we mean by the “centrality of the black question”? Black oppression is still central to almost everything about culture and society in the United States. Discussions about health care, education, religion, sports, music, food, sex are usually at bottom discussions about race. Much of what makes the United States different from other advanced capitalist countries—the extreme religiosity and superstition, the lack of health care, the weakness of unions—is directly or indirectly due to black oppression. Black oppression hits you in the face a million ways each day.
As Marxists, our goal is to build a party that will lead the multiracial working class in struggle to take power through workers revolution. Racial divisions allow the capitalists to derail class struggle and class consciousness. This is the main reason that the United States is one of the few imperialist countries that does not have a party that speaks, even in a distorted and reformist way, in the name of the working class. In the United States, it is common among black people and white leftists to believe that some sort of ahistorical, metaphysical “white supremacy” applies to all white people, who are seen as irredeemably racist. In the New Left, this took the form of arguing that white workers were “bought off” and enjoyed “white skin privilege,” a notion that is once again in vogue. This is not Marxist: if true, socialist revolution would be impossible in the United States.
It is certainly true that many white people in the United States have held and still hold some form of racist ideas. But there is a difference between the racism of the ruling class, which depends on black oppression to maintain its power, and the racism of white workers, which is an obstacle to their class interests. At several times during U.S. history, white working people have fought alongside black working people for their common interests. It is the task of Leninists in the United States to build a party, with a heavily black and Latino leadership, that mobilizes white workers to fight black oppression. This points to the “subjective factor”: communist leadership and interracial class struggle can break down racial (and ethnic) divisions within the working class, raising the consciousness of the proletariat.
Any party which sets out to lead a workers revolution in the United States but which does not fight for black liberation will fail. The struggle against black oppression has proven its ability, time and again, to shake American capitalism to its core. Since the U.S. is at the moment the most powerful imperialist country in the world, the fight for black liberation here is an integral part of the struggle for the liberation of the masses throughout the world. This may appear obvious to us today, but it took the intervention of the Communist International of Lenin and Trotsky in the 1920s to bring this idea to the Communist movement in this country.
The black question is also key to the development of the fight by our political founders of the Revolutionary Tendency against the degeneration of the Socialist Workers Party (SWP) in the early 1960s, and hence for the survival of authentic Trotskyism in the world. It is impossible to be a cadre of the International Communist League for the long term, no matter where you are stationed, without having at least a rudimentary understanding of the black question in the United States. The black question is so important for the working class in the U.S. and throughout the world that it cannot be left to communists just in the United States.
Special Oppression
When we say that black Americans constitute a race-color caste, we mean something quite particular. Caste is not just another way of saying special oppression. Among academics and reformists of all sorts, a common criticism of Marxism has been that it is “class reductionist,” that is, Marxists don’t understand that there are forms of oppression besides class exploitation. This is false. Just to read Marx and Engels shows that they recognized national oppression and women’s oppression.
The current academic vogue of “intersectionality” obscures an understanding of special oppression. The key insight, as it were, of “intersectionality” is that there are various forms of oppression that intersect each other in different ways and at different angles. In looking at any individual, this is surely true. But from a political standpoint it dissolves each person into a mosaic of personal attributes while denying that any of these actually have anything to do with how society is structured. “Intersectionality” either empties any sense of political struggle into the need for mass therapy, or ends up in the old New Left dead end of sectoralism: black people fight for black people, gays fight for gays, women for women, etc.
Lenin’s What Is To Be Done? (1902) explains:
“In a word, every trade-union secretary conducts and helps to conduct ‘the economic struggle against the employers and the government’. It cannot be too strongly maintained that this is still not Social-Democracy [as revolutionary Marxists called themselves at the time], that the Social-Democrat’s ideal should not be the trade-union secretary, but the tribune of the people, who is able to react to every manifestation of tyranny and oppression, no matter where it appears, no matter what stratum or class of the people it affects; who is able to generalise all these manifestations and produce a single picture of police violence and capitalist exploitation; who is able to take advantage of every event, however small, in order to set forth before all his socialist convictions and his democratic demands, in order to clarify for all and everyone the world-historic significance of the struggle for the emancipation of the proletariat.”
Academic critics and pseudo-socialists deny just this: that the multiracial and multiethnic working class can struggle not just for its own benefit but for the liberation of society from all oppression. The working class includes white workers, who also have an interest in overthrowing this racist capitalist system, contrary to the ideology of “white skin privilege.” Lenin understood, however, that the working class would not struggle to overthrow capitalism except under the leadership of revolutionary Marxists. Part of providing this leadership is to stress the need for unity of the working class, and for all workers to champion the fight for black liberation.
Much of this presentation is based on the writings of Richard Fraser, the veteran Trotskyist and scholar of the black question who was a mentor to our founding cadre. He pioneered our analysis and program on this question. But one of the differences that Fraser had with us is our analysis of black oppression as race-color caste oppression. In a 21 April 1984 letter, Fraser wrote, “I have searched in vain in your literature for any theoretical analysis of the Black question which demonstrates that blacks are a caste.” This is a fair statement, and I think that it is worth going into the question a bit.
At the July 1963 SWP National Convention, the Revolutionary Tendency (RT) supported Fraser’s resolution against George Breitman’s view that the black question was a national question. But the RT submitted a statement that we had some important criticisms of Fraser, in which we stated: “The Negro people are not a nation; rather they are an oppressed race-color caste, in the main comprising the most exploited layer of the American working class.” More than 20 years later, in his polemical letter to us, Fraser claimed that our first use of the concept “race-color caste” came in a passage from a 1969 SDS position paper:
“Are Black people simply working-class, in their vast majority? No. They represent a specially oppressed color caste within the U.S. working class. There are other such specially oppressed strata, or ‘castes,’ within the working class, and within the petty bourgeoisie as well. The special oppression of Blacks is qualitatively similar to that endured by women, youth, many American Indians (some of whom would qualify for a national status in the Marxist sense), and white ethnic minority groups. These examples, too, are predominantly working-class in composition, though sometimes less overwhelmingly so than Blacks. Each of these groups suffers special oppression in addition to the fundamental oppression of the working class under capitalism.”
— “The Secret War Between Brother Klonsky and Stalin (And Who Won),” Spartacist (English-language edition) No. 13, August/September 1969
Comrade Fraser seized upon this formulation (which appeared in a signed article, and which we never repeated) because it wrongly equates black oppression with other forms of special oppression and argues that all forms of special oppression are at bottom caste oppression. He rightly understood this as wrong.
Consider particularly the case of American Indians, some of whom are wrongly considered nations in the above quote. As Leninists, we fight against all forms of oppression. But not every form of special oppression is strategic to the workers revolution. A strategic question really has two aspects. First, that the working class cannot come to power without fighting against that particular form of oppression. Second, that it is impossible for capitalism in a particular country to continue to exist without that type of oppression—in other words, this form of oppression is a central prop of bourgeois rule. Without a fight against black oppression, the revolutionary unity of the working class is impossible; without black oppression, the rule of the bourgeoisie in the United States could not exist.
Caste
In the United States, black and white people are essentially culturally the same. This is different from Québécois and English Canadians, for example, who despite having lived under the same state power for more than 250 years still have distinct cultures because they are different nations—unlike black people and white people in the United States. In 1963, Fraser wrote in an unpublished article titled “Revolutionary Integration!”:
“Among the oldest non-native inhabitants of this country, the Negro has contributed a huge share to its wealth, progress and world pre-eminence. He has played heroic and sometimes decisive roles in all of the historically important events. His life is inextricably involved with whites. Precisely because this is his homeland, prejudice and discrimination are infuriating. He has no other home. His Afro-Americanism doesn’t indicate a previous nationality, for a continent is not a nation, and his culture and customs are not those of any African nations. Indeed, he knows not where in Africa his ancestors lived, and often feels strange with Africans (and vice-versa). His affinity for Africa is racial and internationalist.”
In a Los Angeles lecture in 1953, Fraser pointed out: “In spite of the stigma of the black skin...the mutual assimilation of Negro and Anglo-American appears as an overriding law of American historical development which defies the laws of segregation, the prejudice of skin color, and the customs and social relations of the Jim Crow system” (printed in “In Memoriam—Richard S. Fraser,” Prometheus Research Series No. 3, August 1990). Four hundred years after the first people of African descent arrived in Virginia in 1619, two things are clear: their descendants are as American as their white counterparts, and they are still subject to racial oppression.
Despite centuries-long integration of the black population into the American political economy, black people remain forcibly segregated at the bottom of society. They are “the outcast[s] and the untouchable[s]...the pariah[s] at the bottom of the social structure,” as Max Shachtman put it in Communism and the Negro (1933). As comrade Jim Robertson underlined, “In caste-ridden countries...the invariant criteria for caste is a sexual line of division drawn in blood.” This is what anthropologists call “endogamy.” Alongside everyday police violence and extralegal terror, the prevention of interracial marriage is a central aspect of forced segregation.
When President Andrew Johnson vetoed the Civil Rights Bill in March 1866, he asked, “If Congress can abrogate all State laws of discrimination between the two races, in the matter of real estate, of suits, and of contracts generally, Congress may not also repeal the State laws as to the contract of marriage between the races?” This emphasizes that any struggle for social equality raises the specter of interracial marriage. Opposing interracial marriage remains the war cry of reactionaries and fascists to this day.
There is another mechanism for enforcing the caste nature of black oppression: the one-drop rule, or what anthropologists call “hypodescent.” This is the race-color aspect of caste oppression. In the United States, race really isn’t about skin color; it is about ancestry, and anybody who has any black ancestry is considered black, even if he or she looks white. Accompanied by violence, this prevents intermarriage. In the same 1953 lecture previously cited, Fraser observed, “It is not the purpose of the law to keep a visibly white person of one-sixty-fourth Negro ancestry in the ghetto in segregation with dark people, but to prevent social contact between white and black in the beginning of such a family descent by stigmatizing the offspring of mixed marriages as black.” Race has no biological basis; its basis is in society. Race in the United States is a permanent and hereditary status that is maintained through hypodescent and forced endogamy.
If one were to develop capitalism in a laboratory, one probably would not think of mixing caste into it, since in an abstract sense, caste cuts against the class-centered basis of capitalist society. In the Communist Manifesto, Marx and Engels wrote, “Our epoch, the epoch of the bourgeoisie, possesses...this distinctive feature: it has simplified the class antagonisms.... Society as a whole is more and more splitting up into two great hostile camps, into two great classes directly facing each other: Bourgeoisie and Proletariat.” Logically, this process should have destroyed all castes, just as it destroyed the medieval guilds. But this did not happen.
The three examples of caste oppressions that I am familiar with—in India, in Japan and in the United States—all originated in pre-capitalist forms of oppression that the bourgeoisie in each country made use of to bolster its own position as the ruling class. The rise of capitalism led to legal emancipation and equality in each country, but in each case, rather than being swept away, caste oppression became an integral part of the capitalist system. In all three countries, the capitalist class came to power in a belated, non-“classical” way: in India through British imperialism; in Japan through what we’ve termed a “bourgeois non-democratic revolution” (the 1867-68 Meiji Restoration); and in the U.S. through a belated Civil War (which brought the bourgeoisie to power on a national level). This points to a key aspect of the Marxist approach to caste oppression: since the mechanism of caste oppression is built into the fabric of capitalist society itself, the destruction of the caste system requires the working class to overthrow capitalist rule and take power in its own name. Applied to America, this is the program of revolutionary integrationism: the fight for the full integration of black people into an egalitarian socialist society.
In writing this class, I searched our website for the term “race-color caste” in Workers Vanguard over the past dozen years. We have tried in several articles to give a sense of when race-color caste oppression began. We have given conflicting explanations of its origins and the consolidation of black people as a race-color caste: in the period after Bacon’s Rebellion (in 1676); in the existence of slavery generally; the defeat of Reconstruction; the establishment of legalized segregation with the Plessy Supreme Court decision in 1896; the defeat of the Populist movement around the same time; and the Great Migration during World War I. Many of these are signed articles or forums. Truth be known, many of these are found in signed articles or forums by me.
There are three key junctures in the formation of race-color caste oppression in the United States. The first was the consolidation of chattel slavery in the late 1600s and early 1700s, when the American concept of race as we know it originated. The second was the consolidation of the black population in the South as a race-color caste after the Civil War destroyed slavery and in the aftermath of the failure of Radical Reconstruction in the late 1800s. Finally, the third key period was the establishment of a national system of race-color caste oppression with the mass migration of black people to the urban North and their integration into the industrial working class, in the early/​middle part of the 1900s. The legal abolition of Jim Crow segregation in the 1950s and 1960s did not change the nature of black oppression, but it did change some of its outward forms.
Slavery and the Origins of Capitalism...and Race
Ancient slavery was not race-based. Slavery had largely disappeared during the Middle Ages, but as capitalism developed, it resurrected slavery. Slavery was an integral part of what Marx labeled “primitive capital accumulation.” This included the slave trade itself, as well as the production of commodities—especially sugar—in the Americas. Africa was an important market for products that were manufactured in Europe. In the U.S., slavery was the bedrock of capitalism, with the wealth of cotton and other slave-produced products helping the capitalist system get started. To give two examples: Brooks Brothers profited from selling clothing to slaves, while the investment bank Brown Brothers and Co. owned slave plantations.
Race in the United States has always been inseparable from laborBefore the slave trade, the English had no concept of race as we understand it. As Fraser put it in an unfinished manuscript from the 1980s called “The Race Concept”: “The fact that slaves were black and masters were white was an accident of history.... Skin color was a fact of life that differed between these two people. That difference had an ancient and interesting origin, but it did not have anything to do with the ability of Europeans to enslave Africans.” The first Europeans to use enslaved Africans as a labor force were most likely the Portuguese, who developed sugar plantations in their colonies off the coast of Africa—for example, the Azores and Madeira—in the mid 1400s.
The English came to use slavery later. The first English slave colonies in the Americas were Barbados and Virginia, but English planters there did not use African slaves at first; they used indentured servants—poor people, criminals, Catholics, Irish, Scotsmen and others not seen as fully human. In the late 1600s and early 1700s, planters in both Barbados and Virginia transitioned to a workforce of black slaves. While the number of Europeans willing to be indentured servants was declining, there was a steady supply of Africans since there was a growing slave trade. Life expectancies were also increasing, which meant that slaves would provide more years of labor, and that indentured servants would survive their indentures and demand the land they had been promised.
In the 1600s, according to one estimate, at least 100,000 indentured servants became free in British North America (Charles Beard, A Basic History of the United States [1944]). For the planters, this posed a danger. Bacon’s Rebellion in 1676 underlined that colonial Virginia was a tinderbox ready to explode. Before the American Revolution, Bacon’s Rebellion was the largest popular rising in the colonies. Under the leadership of Nathaniel Bacon, thousands of Virginians—including indentured servants and slaves—rose up against Governor William Berkeley, accusing him of being too friendly with the Indians. This shook the planter elite, and they wanted to drive a wedge between white servants and black slaves. In the decades after Bacon’s Rebellion, black slaves became the dominant labor force in Virginia and skin color became a way of telling one’s place in society. Without glorifying Bacon, this episode underlines that race has always played a role in dividing the working people and stabilizing the rule of a small ruling class.
The consolidation of slavery gave rise to the concept of what was known as the “Negro” and “white” races. This was part of what Fraser referred to as the process of “how a social difference got transformed into a biological difference.” This color line became permanent and hereditary. Black slaves remained black slaves, as did their children and grandchildren. Unlike in ancient Rome, when an enslaved woman had a child, that child was also enslaved. Robert Beverley, a Virginia planter, published a book in 1705 that contains a chapter called “Of the Servants and Slaves in Virginia.” This chapter is a useful guide to the difference between indentured servants and slaves. It begins: “Their Servants, they distinguish by the Names of Slaves for Life, and Servants for a time. Slaves are the Negroes, and their Posterity, following the condition of the Mother.... They are call’d Slaves...because it is for Life.”
Black skin became a mark of permanent servitude, and was reflected as such in law. Black people were essentially cast out of the human race as pariahs. They became a race apart. The concept of race was created to justify slavery: slaves had black skin, and slaves were inferior; therefore, black skin was a sign of inferiority. This was the origin of the creation of race, but not yet caste.
[TO BE CONTINUED]
Workers Vanguard No. 1149
22 February 2019
 
Black Liberation Struggle: The Key to American Socialist Revolution
Part Two
In observance of Black History Month, we are pleased to publish the conclusion of an educational presented in December by comrade Jacob Zorn at a gathering of the Spartacist League in New York. Part One appeared in WV No. 1148 (8 February).
It is important to contrast how the race concept in the U.S. incorporated the “one-drop rule,” which was not the case elsewhere in the Americas. In Puerto Rico, there is a famous poem by Fortunato Vizcarrondo, “¿Y tu agüela, aonde ejtá?” whose title translates as, “Where is your grandmother?” In it, a black Puerto Rican responds to racist taunts by a white Puerto Rican, pointing out that both of them have black grandmothers, but his is a proud part of the family while the other’s is hidden. The poem is powerful because many “white” Puerto Ricans have black ancestors whom they deny. But such a poem wouldn’t work in the United States. Anybody in the U.S. with a black grandparent—or great-grandparent—is black, no matter his or her physical appearance.
For the overwhelming majority of slaves in the U.S., slavery was a permanent condition. Manumission was much less common than in other countries, so there was a much smaller population of free black people. There was at the same time a much larger white population than in much of the Caribbean.
Here it is important to keep in mind that about 500,000 African slaves ended up in the U.S.—out of 12.5 million enslaved Africans who were brought to the Americas between 1525 and 1866. More than a third of all these slaves ended up in Brazil—about ten times the number who ended up in the U.S. In Brazil by the time of abolition in 1888, there was a significant non-slave black population. According to the 1872 census, at least three-quarters of all black and mixed-race Brazilians—some 4.25 million people—were free. They constituted 40 percent of the entire population in Brazil.
Thus, the neat equation of black skin and being a slave broke down in Brazil in a way that it did not in the American South. I would argue that unlike in the United States, black people in Brazil do not form a caste. In fact, the term “black Brazilian” means something different in Brazil than it would to an American, since the “one-drop rule” does not exist in Brazil. Racial mixing is much more common—and accepted—in Brazil. There is a saying in Brazil, “money whitens.” This means that wealth and status can to some degree offset racial discrimination. In the U.S. it is usually the opposite: the caste nature of black oppression means that even the most distinguished black person is still subject to racist abuse.
Black oppression is central to Brazilian society, and black and mixed-race people are specially oppressed—but it takes a different form than in the United States. The prevalence of racial mixture—sometimes referred to as “racial democracy”—is used to obscure black oppression in Brazil. Of course, a revolutionary party in Brazil would crucially need to take up the banner of black liberation.
In the U.S., the free black population was much smaller. According to the census of 1860, there were slightly less than 500,000 free black people in the United States—mostly in the Mid-Atlantic region or the Upper South—compared to almost four million slaves. In the U.S., people of mixed race were considered black, and the free black population was much more marginal. Southern states tried to force free blacks to leave, and many Northern states passed laws trying to prevent them from settling there. Some whites who opposed slavery supported the colonization movement, which held that free blacks could not live alongside whites and that former slaves would have to “colonize” places in Africa or Central America.
The largest number of free blacks in the country before the Civil War lived in the North, and as C. Vann Woodward observed, Jim Crow segregation “was born in the North and reached an advanced age before moving South in force” (The Strange Career of Jim Crow [1974]). The Democratic Party in the North was dedicated to segregation. During the Civil War, a Democratic Party propagandist even invented a word, “miscegenation,” to describe the rampant race-mixing that was sure to follow if black people achieved equality.
This treatment of free black people was the “prototype” of caste subjugation: that a population, officially free and not slave, could be segregated, discriminated against, and at times violently attacked for no reason other than their skin color. The first use of the term “caste” that I am aware of was in the front page of the first issue of William Lloyd Garrison’s Liberator in 1831, referring to free black people in Washington, D.C., as “continuing, even as free men an unenlightened and degraded caste.” In 1850, Frederick Douglass referred to “the malign feeling which passes under the name of prejudice against color” as a “mean spirit of caste.” He added: “Properly speaking, prejudice against color does not exist in this country.” Douglass then gave a pretty good description of race-color caste oppression of black people who were not slaves:
“We are then a persecuted people; not because we are colored, but simply because that color has for a series of years been coupled in the public mind with the degradation of slavery and servitude. In these conditions, we are thought to be in our place; and to aspire to anything above them, is to contradict the established views of the community—to get out of our sphere, and commit the provoking sin of impudence.”
— “Prejudice Against Color” (1850), in The Life and Writings of Frederick Douglass, Vol. 2, ed. Philip S. Foner (1950)
After the recent furor over Trump’s appointment of Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court, I read one of its classic decisions, Dred Scott v. Sandford (1857). The immediate importance of the case was whether Dred Scott should be free because he had lived in Illinois, a free state. The historic importance of this decision is that it invalidated the Missouri Compromise (1820), destroying the balance between slave and free states and paving the way for the Civil War. Most of the decision deals with whether black people who were not slaves were citizens of the United States. As Chief Justice Taney put it:
“The question is simply this: can a negro whose ancestors were imported into this country and sold as slaves become a member of the political community formed and brought into existence by the Constitution of the United States, and as such become entitled to all the rights, and privileges, and immunities, guaranteed by that instrument to the citizen, one of which rights is the privilege of suing in a court of the United States in the cases specified in the Constitution?”
And Taney’s response was clear: Black people “had for more than a century before been regarded as beings of an inferior order, and altogether unfit to associate with the white race either in social or political relations, and so far inferior that they had no rights which the white man was bound to respect.” In other words, black people in the United States would forever be marked as inferior because their ancestors had been slaves. In a sense, the Dred Scott decision is an early defense of what would become race-color caste oppression.
The Civil War
This does not mean there was a straight line from the Supreme Court ruling in 1857 to black oppression today. One of the greatest periods of social struggle comes between the two: the Civil War and Reconstruction, which destroyed the entire slave system and opened the possibility of creating an interracial bourgeois democracy. Many academics, including several who are on the left side of the political spectrum, claim that there was no fundamental class difference between the slave South and the capitalist North.
Various leftists echo this. The crown of idiocy must go to Progressive Labor (PL). A 9 March 2018 Challenge article called Lincoln “a lifelong and committed racist,” a “white supremacist” and “ethnic cleanser.” Another PL article (16 June 2016) argues that “Juneteenth Hides Truth of Lincoln’s Racist Union ‘Victory’.” It seems pointless to polemicize against people who cannot tell the difference between Sherman’s march to the sea and Hitler’s Operation Barbarossa against the Soviet Union. To deny the progressive nature of the Civil War is to abandon historical materialism; it also takes capitalist society—and racist ideology—as everlasting. At bottom, it evinces a profound historical pessimism and liberal moralism.
But it is not just PL. Comrade Don Alexander brought to my attention a pamphlet that the Internationalist Group (IG) put out in 2009, “Marx on Slavery and the U.S. Civil War.” In it there is a polemic against my forum on the Mexican-American War of 1846-48 (reprinted in Black History and the Class Struggle No. 22, July 2012). The IG says that we “have lost sight of the capitalist character of slavery.” Referring to my article, they state:
“Here the slavocracy and the slave system are counterposed to the bourgeoisie and the capitalist system, as if they were two different ruling classes and two different modes of production, rather than two sections of the bourgeois ruling class whose interests clashed, and where defeat of the slave masters was necessary for industrial capitalism to flourish.”
If there was no class difference between the bourgeoisie in the North and the slavocracy in the South, but merely a squabble within the bourgeoisie as the IG states, then the Civil War was not necessary, and there is no reason to support one side of the bourgeoisie or the other. To be sure, the IG supports the North in the Civil War. In fact, in this same pamphlet there is a polemic against PL. But nowhere in the article does the IG disprove PL’s analysis—because they share the same point of view.
The IG pamphlet contains one of my favorite articles by Marx, the two-part “The Civil War in the United States,” published in October and November 1861. This is a polemic against the British bourgeoisie, who claimed that slavery was not the central issue in the Civil War. Marx shows how the Civil War was a social revolution and that the North would need to destroy slavery in order to win. In the second part, Marx asserted:
“The present struggle between the South and North is, therefore, nothing but a struggle between two social systems, the system of slavery and the system of free labour. The struggle has broken out because the two systems can no longer live peacefully side by side on the North American continent. It can only be ended by the victory of one system or the other.”
This contradicts the IG’s own view that there was no question of “two different ruling classes and two different modes of production” in the Civil War. Marx and Engels never wavered in their support to the North. Marx’s emphasis on the central role of slavery in the war was part of his effort to build support among British workers for a Northern victory, even though the shortage of cotton had devastated the British textile industry. The IG cynically reprints this article by Marx, which actually refutes their anti-Marxist position.
The IG’s argument dovetails with a growing trend among historians. On the one hand, this trend is useful because it highlights the connections between the slave system and early capitalism. But it also flattens out the development of slavery and capitalism. If slavery were just some variant of capitalism, there is no class difference between the North and South, and there is no reason to support the North in the Civil War. For that matter, then there is no difference between the Roman Empire and capitalism. And while they don’t write about it, it is safe to assume that most of these historians would think that China today is also a capitalist country.
They turn capitalism into a general abstraction—all of these systems have some form of market in which profit played a role—and remove the issue of class from capitalism. In that sense, they remove class strugglewhich is the only way that history progresses. But if history is really just different gradations of capitalism, there really isn’t any chance of fundamental social change. By denying that the Civil War was a revolution fought out between counterposed social systems, and that slavery was the central issue, this perspective despairs of white workers ever being won to the fight for black rights.
The Civil War was a great bourgeois revolution because it smashed slavery and meant the victory of the capitalist order, based on “free labor” as it was called, over the system of slave labor. It was also part of a whole series of wars for national unity. But it also came very late in the epoch of bourgeois revolutions. The most progressive period of American capitalism was compressed into a few years, and almost immediately after the end of the Civil War, the U.S. started becoming an imperialist power. In the 1870s, the progressive aspects and the reactionary aspects of capitalism are almost simultaneous.
Reconstruction and Its Defeat
Seeking to defend black oppression, bourgeois historians and politicians buried Reconstruction under a pile of racist lies to “prove” racial equality was impossible. W.E.B. Du Bois demolished this as early as 1910 in an article published in the American Historical Review, but it was not until the civil rights movement that white historians began to tell the truth about Reconstruction. It was during Reconstruction that two visions of black people in capitalist America were posed: full and equal citizens, or an oppressed caste. Again, at bottom this was a conflict over labor.
In Charleston, South Carolina, on 21 March 1865, 4,000 black people celebrated the Union occupation of their city. Among the banners were “We Know No Masters But Ourselves,” and “We Know No Caste or Color.” Former slaves and their allies fought for the ability to control their own labor, without being dominated by white planters. Above all, this meant that the former slaves wanted landthe main productive resource in the South—land that they and their ancestors had worked without compensation for almost 200 years.
On the other hand, after the Confederacy’s surrender in early April, the remnants of the defeated Southern planter class wanted former slaves to continue to work in the cotton fields as a cheap, steady supply of labor. Forced to ratify the Thirteenth Amendment, which abolished slavery, Southern politicians after the Civil War passed laws known as “Black Codes” that were designed to make sure black people were terrorized into being a reliable, docile, cheap labor force on the Southern plantations.
In 1865, ex-Confederate brigadier general Benjamin G. Humphreys was elected governor of Mississippi. In urging that Mississippi pass its Black Codes, he asserted: “The Negro is free, whether we like it or not. To be free, however, does not make him a citizen, or entitle him to political or social equality with the white race.” Crucially, these laws applied to all black people—including those few who had been free before the Civil War. The Black Codes were an attempt to decree that all black people in the South formed a subordinate caste, whose members might be free, but they still had no rights a white man had to respect.
But these laws met tremendous resistance among black people in the South. The Black Codes helped spur Northern Republicans to begin what became known as Radical Reconstruction, when Republicans in Congress passed the Civil Rights Act of 1866 over President Andrew Johnson’s veto. In 1868, Congress removed Governor Humphreys and replaced him with Union general Adelbert Ames. For a period, the national government, and crucially the military, pushed an egalitarian vision. The Fourteenth Amendment was ratified in 1868; this stated that everybody born in the United States was a citizen, invalidating the Dred Scott decision. In 1870, Congress ratified the Fifteenth Amendment which protected the right to vote for all male citizens.
Reconstruction was the first attempt to create a society in which black and white people were equal citizens—which flew in the face of the entire history of the U.S. since the 1670s. While Reconstruction is usually viewed as an issue of black and white, the defeat of the slavocracy also accentuated the class differences among Southern whites. Democratic Party appeals to white supremacy were a way to block unity between poor whites and blacks.
In less than a decade, people who had formerly been legal property, with no rights that whites were bound to respect, assumed key roles in society: attending schools, voting, running for office and demanding their rights. But despite the best efforts of a few courageous white Radical Republicans like Charles Sumner and his House colleague Thaddeus Stevens, as well as black leaders like Frederick Douglass, Reconstruction failed.
This raises the question: Could Reconstruction have succeeded? There is a tendency among some historians to pose the defeat of Reconstruction as a military question. To be sure, during Reconstruction, black Southerners and their white Republican allies faced tremendous violence by the Democratic Party and its military wing, the Ku Klux Klan. There is no military reason why the Union Army, that had already defeated the Confederacy, could not have put paid to Southern racists.
But the Republicans—the main party of the Northern bourgeoisie—did not do so, not because they were unable to do so, but because they decided this would not have been in their class interests. In order for Reconstruction to have worked, it would have needed to destroy the slavocracy, emancipate the slave population, break the former masters’ grip on the land, and distribute the productive resources of the South, the land, to the now-free population. This would likely have broken the dependency of the South on plantation monoculture and could have paved the way for the development of a modern, industrial South.
This is exactly what did not happen. This was not for lack of awareness. Black people during Reconstruction consistently and insistently demanded land. Sometimes, the Republicans and the bourgeoisie have been accused of “betraying” Reconstruction by not redistributing land. Certainly, they betrayed the hopes of the black population, but they did not betray their own class interests. As capitalists, the Northern bourgeoisie looked to the South not as a site for social transformation but as a place to make money. And making money required getting cotton production up and running on a large scale, not diversified agriculture on small holdings. They didn’t distribute the land to the former slaves because they wanted it themselves, which meant getting black people back to work.
The second reason is ideological. The Reconstruction era is a period of growth for Northern industry and we see the birth of a combative labor movement, along with the attempts of the U.S. capitalist class to smash the workers. The capitalist class, in the main, feared anything that could be seen as a threat to private property. The New York Times spelled this out when it warned in June 1867 that “confiscation as proposed by Stevens and [Wendell] Phillips, or a division of land as suggested by Senator Wade, is a war upon property, which, once begun, would not be confined to the South.” The Paris Commune of 1871, which saw the working class seize power for the first time, frightened the bourgeoisie even more.
As we wrote in “Black and Red—Class Struggle Road to Negro Freedom” (1966, reprinted in Marxist Bulletin No. 9):
“Capitalist and slave alike stood to gain from the suppression of the planter aristocracy but beyond that had no further common interests. In fact, it was the Negroes themselves who, within the protective framework provided by the Reconstruction Acts and the military dictatorship of the occupying Union army, carried through the social revolution and destruction of the older planter class.”
The bourgeoisie was not going to do what was necessary to finish the historic tasks of the Civil War. The black population lacked the strength to do so (which is not to say that the freedmen and their allies did not fight bravely for their rights, as was clear in their fights for public education and against school segregation). And the working class was too immature—focused on its own struggles and tied to the Democratic Party in the North—to take up these tasks in the 1870s.
The First International, founded by Karl Marx, did have followers in the U.S., but they were not strong enough to win over black militants and workers to a common working-class party. Instead of forming a mass workers party, white workers remained loyal to the Democratic Party and black people remained loyal to the Republicans. The defeat of Reconstruction set the stage for the consolidation of the black population in the South into a race-color caste.
This brings up another slogan that we use: Finish the Civil War! This means that the tasks first posed by Reconstruction—the integration of black people into American society on the basis of full social, political and economic equality—remain outstanding 150 years later. And they can only be accomplished through workers revolution.
Black Oppression and the Rise of U.S. Imperialism
Everybody is familiar with Marx’s famous saying, in Capital, Vol. 1 (1867), that “labour cannot emancipate itself in the white skin where in the black it is branded.” This was more than a moral appeal against slavery. It was a statement of fact: Marx recognized that so long as half the country was dominated by slavery, workers would never be able to fight for even basic trade-union rights. The Civil War paved the way for the growth of American capitalism and the labor movement.
This was shown most clearly by the 1877 railroad strike, the first nationwide strike. The number of production workers in the U.S. rose from 1.3 million before the Civil War to over 5 million at the end of the 1800s. The consolidation of the black population as an oppressed race-color caste took place at the same time the working class was growing; black oppression was imprinted upon the labor movement. This period saw the development of the Populist movement of farmers against their oppression by the banks, railroads, etc. This is covered in comrade Brian Manning’s forum in March 2017 (“Race, Class and American Populism,” reprinted in Black History and the Class Struggle No. 26, August 2018), so I won’t go into detail.
The Populist movement was not a working-class movement, but it did raise the specter of joint black-white struggle in the South. In order to undercut Populism, the bourgeoisie co-opted a section of the white leadership of the Populists into the Democratic Party, and passed a series of laws throughout the South that disenfranchised black voters and consolidated Jim Crow segregation. This is what Mike Goldfield called “the system of 1896” in The Color of Politics (1997).
Black oppression also left its indelible imprint on U.S. imperialism, which developed at the same time. U.S. foreign policy has always been racist, reflecting America’s genocide against American Indians and the domination of U.S. politics by the slavocracy. Nevertheless, there was a big change between the Mexican-American War of 1846-48 and the Spanish-American War of 1898. When the U.S. invaded Mexico, it took over only the section of Mexico that was the most sparsely populated in order to avoid having to incorporate non-white, non-English-speaking non-Protestants. In 1869, there was a plan to annex Santo Domingo, which failed in part because of racist opposition.
But in 1898, after the Plessy decision, the U.S. seized Cuba, Puerto Rico, the Philippines and Guam. By this time, racism no longer served as an obstacle to expansion, but as a justification for imperialism. The U.S. occupation of Cuba, which was a former slave society, reinforced the oppression of black Cubans. A few years later, the U.S. imperialists imposed strict segregation between black West Indian workers and white Americans in the Panama Canal Zone.
From 1870 to about 1900, only about 3 percent of Southern-born black people lived in the North. Then in the first half of the 20th century came the Great Migration, when millions of black people moved from the rural South to the urban North. This merits an entire class in itself, but I want to highlight two developments. First, the black question ceased to be a Southern question and became a nationwide question. Since black oppression in the North was not mainly a question of law, the conditions that black people faced in the North—residential segregation, police violence, poverty—underlined that black oppression was built into the base of American capitalism, not just its legal superstructure.
Second, black people became integrated into the industrial working class, albeit in the worst jobs and as the last hired and first fired. Religious and ethnic divisions between white workers of different backgrounds over time became subordinated to black-white divisions as the means to keep the working class down. This underscores the importance of the entire working class taking up the fight against black oppression, while also highlighting the role that black workers will play in the destruction of capitalism itself.
Race-Color Caste Analysis Complements Fraser
I want to conclude on the question of Richard Fraser and caste. Many comrades have observed that Fraser in his 1953 two-part lecture describes perfectly the mechanisms of race-color caste oppression. At the same time, Fraser opposed the term “caste” to describe the black question in the U.S. In his 1984 letter to us, Fraser notes that most of his ideas were based on black intellectuals, such as W.E.B. Du Bois, E. Franklin Frazier and Oliver Cromwell Cox. Later in the letter, he acknowledges an “original thought”: that racial oppression “will be overthrown with the overthrow of the capitalist class, and only by that.” The greatness of Fraser’s contribution to Marxism is just that: not only that he synthesized the disparate strands of black intellectual thought (which is a monumental task in itself) but he did so in the service of a revolutionary program to lead the working class to victory.
Rather than contradicting Fraser’s broader analysis of black oppression, the concept of color-caste oppression complements it. One of Fraser’s most insistent points is (as he put in his letter) “that the racial structure and race relations in the U.S. are historically unique. That no society has ever been founded upon a division based exclusively upon superficial characteristics.” To be honest, I long stumbled over this argument. The historical uniqueness of the American black question is obvious, but in my travels throughout the world, particularly Latin America, I have seen countries with a history of black chattel slavery in which black oppression today plays an important role in maintaining capitalism. As I hope I explained here, the historical evolution of race-color caste explains the fundamental difference between, say, black oppression in Cuba and Brazil, on the one hand, and in the United States on the other.
Fraser emphasized how the entire weight of American capitalism rests upon black oppression. This means that the bourgeoisie uses its arsenal of state repression to maintain black oppression. But it also means that the entire edifice of U.S. imperialism is built on an unstable foundation, since the struggle against black oppression shakes capitalist America to its core. This is even more true today, as the decaying bourgeoisie spits on its own heritage, defending the Confederacy and attacking the Fourteenth Amendment. This makes even more crucial our task of building a revolutionary workers party, 70 percent black, Latino and other minority, that can “clarify for all and everyone the world-historic significance of the struggle for the emancipation of the proletariat.”

Present At The Creation-The French Revolution Comes To Spain-Natasha Portman’s “Goya’s Ghosts” (2006)-A Film Review

Present At The Creation-The French Revolution Comes To Spain-Natasha Portman’s “Goya’s Ghosts” (2006)-A Film Review



DVD Review

By Bradley Fox, Junior

[As of this post under the new regime of Greg Green, formerly of the on-line American Film Gazette website brought in to shake things up a bit after a vote of no confidence in the previous site administrator Peter Markin was taken among all the writers at the request of some of the younger writers abetted by one key older writer, Sam Lowell, the habit of assigning writers to specific topics like film, books, political commentary, and culture is over. Also over is the designation of writers in this space, young or old, by job title like senior or associate. After a short-lived experiment designating everybody as “writer” seemingly in emulation of the French Revolution’s “citizen” or the Bolshevik Revolution’s “comrade all posts will be “signed” with given names only. The Editorial Board]

Goya’s Ghosts, starring Natasha Portman as Inez and Alicia, Javier Bardem as Lorenzo, Stellan Skargard as Goya, a Spanish production done in English, 2006)

[I find it ironic that one of the first assignments that new site administrator Greg Green has handed out deals with the turmoil of the French Revolution through the prism of the famous Spanish artist Francisco Goya which roiled through Spain during the height of the revolution in France and later during various Napoleonic conquests including Spain. Sometimes apparently, and this may have been Greg Green’s point in assigning the review life mirrors art as in the case of Lorenzo, the Spanish priest turned exiled partisan of the French Revolution and Napoleonic agent during the French occupation in the early 1800s before his downfall at Waterloo.

Seemingly a parallel example exists between Lorenzo’s topsy-turvy career and fate and that of the previous site administrator Peter Markin, who not so coincidentally was a good friend of my father Bradley, Senior and who has recently retired from that position after a vote of “no confidence” by the writers. The main reason given was Peter’s obsessive tilting of the coverage of subjects in this space toward events from the turbulent 1960s when most of the older writers came of age exemplified by the over-the-top coverage of the Summer of Love, 1967 he ordered the writers, young and old, familiar with the period or not, to cover. There has been, and here the parallel with Francisco who would go to his execution under the Inquisition once the French were defeated and swept out of Spain by the British with the aid of Spanish guerillas, a persistent rumor that Peter was purged and that the retirement ploy was just that a cover for the more aggressive removal mainly through the efforts of the younger writers which in the interest of transparency included me. So maybe Greg Green is trying to make a cautionary tale out of using this film plot as a review. I will try to track this down as I get more information by if you heard that one Peter Paul Markin has fallen under the wheels of a modern day Inquisition don’t be surprised. Don’t be surprised at all.]
*******
Artists, artist like the title’s Goya sometimes have the uncanny sense to be at the right place at the right time-at least the plot of this little gem of Spanish production film would indicate that. He lived and worked in the time of the French Revolution which was bringing a serious breathe of fresh air to feudal remnant Europe with the overthrown of the monarchy and of the attempt to bring the new democratic forms to the rest of the continent-including Spain which is where that revolution intersects with what Goya was observing and painting. In a sense Goya is all over the place in his work from the court painter to the royal family to the painter of the horrific effects of war on civilians and soldiers alike to the famous, or infamous if you like, painting of the Maja, the naked Maja which may or may not have scandalized European sensibilities. That is the subtext to the plot here where a Spanish priest, played by Javier Bardem, and Goya, played by Stellem Skargard, intersect through a rich merchant’s daughter model, played by Natalie Portman, whom Goya used and who inflamed the priest to lustful and criminal desire.  

Spain was, and maybe still is, a tough dollar place to be a dissenter, dissenter mainly being anything but a Roman Catholic and a hardened monarchist (and possibly a closet Francoist fascist if the recent struggle for the legitimate right to independent statehood of the Catalan peoples is any indication). Spain after all was the land of Inquisition which did not take kindly to any dissenters and had the means (torture and the rack, ultimately the auto de fe and the stake) That is where the action in this film starts (so the faint-hearted should push the stop button now). Lorenzo is the main prosecutor for the tribunals always looking for victims via his extensive stoolie spy network and he finds one in the person of the lusted after Inez. She goes into the dock after being tortured for her confession and before long Lorenzo has had his way with her. That way with her leading to her bearing his child. Eventually Inez get out of the slammer but the place took a lot out of her, left her mentally damaged.

Meanwhile the Church has no place for Lorenzo who is now considered an albatross around its neck and he gets out of Spain by hook or by crook landing in France. The scene then shifts back to Spain some fifteen years later. Like a lot of hard-boiled men who seek the main chance he became a senior bureaucrat in Napoleon’s administration of Spain after its conquest. Such men changing allegiance as easily as changing their shirts. Inez has seen better days but Lorenzo is still interested in finding his daughter. That search is interrupted by the British invasion which finds Lorenzo unsuccessfully fleeing but being caught and once the old order is reestablished the Inquisition in reinstated as well. Live by the sword die by the sword Lorenzo is condemned and in a defiant and honorable finish refuses to recant before he is executed.

What about Goya who after all is the hook for anybody with artistic sensibilities to have even bothered to watch this rather dragged out epic. He hovers over the scene doing his sketches and plotting his painting while trying to help Inez as best he could. But this film is mainly about Lorenzo and that is really the problem for me since we all know every revolutionary period brings certain figures from the old regime with them-after the masses have brought the changes and have fallen back exhausted. The French and Russian revolutions were full of such men who landed on their feet- for a time. Not enough Goya here to make this one move off dead center.

Tuesday, February 18, 2020

Artists’ Corner-In The Aftermath Of World War I- Dada Takes A Stab At Visually Understanding A Broken World After the Bloodbath Which Mowed Down The Flower Of The European Youth

Artists’ Corner-In The Aftermath Of World War I- Dada Takes A Stab At Visually Understanding A Broken World After the Bloodbath Which Mowed Down The Flower Of The European Youth     

By Lenny Lynch

I don’t know that much about the Dada movement that swept through Europe in the early part of the 20th century in response to the creation of modern industrial society that was going full steam and the modern industrial scale death and destruction such mass scale techniques brought upon this good green earth by World War I. (Foreshadowed it is agreed by the industrial carnage at places like Cold Harbor in the American Civil War, the butchery of the Franco-Prussian War and subsequent river of blood by its own rulers of the Paris Commune and the Boer War.) The war to end all wars which came up quite short of that goal but did decimate the flower of the European youth, including vast swaths of the working class. Such massive blood-lettings for a precious few inches of soil like at the Battle of the Somme took humankind back more than a few steps when the nightmare ended-for a while with the Armistice on November 11, 1918. An event which in observing its centennial every serious artist should consider putting to the paint. And every military veteran to take heart including the descendants of those artists who laid down their heads in those muddy wretched trenches. Should reclaim the idea behind Armistice Day from the militarists who could learn no lessons except up the kill and fields of fire ratios. 

I don’t know much but this space over this centennial year of the last year of the bloody war, the armistice year 1918 which stopped the bloodletting will explore that interesting art movement which reflected the times, the bloody times. First up to step up George Groz, step up and show your stuff, show how you see the blood-lusted world after four years of burning up the fields of sweet earth Europe making acres of white-crossed places where the sullen, jaded, mocked, buried youth of Europe caught shells and breezes. Take one look Republican Automatons. Look at the urban environment, look at those tall buildings dwarfing mere mortal man and woman, taking the measure of all, making them think, the thinking ones about having to run, run hard away from what they had built, about fear fretting that to continue would bury men and women without names, without honor either.          

Look too at honor denied, look at the handless hand, the legless leg, the good German flag, the Kaiser’s bloody medal, hard against the urban sky. The shaky republic, the republic without honor, shades of the murders of the honest revolutionary Liebknecht walking across Potsdam Plaza to go say no, no to the war budget and grab a hallowed cell the only place for a man of the people in those hard times and gallant Luxemburg, the rose of the revolution, mixed in with thoughts of renegade burned out soldiers ready for anything. Those former were forever your brethren and breathe. Weimar, weak-kneed and bleeding,  would shake and one George Groz would know that, would draw this picture that would tell the real story of why there was a Dada-da-da-da-da movement to chronicle the times if not to fight on the barricades against that beast from which we had to run.      




Step up Max Ernst and show us your stuff, show us what four fucking years of war did to the brain.  Ernst was drafted and served both on the Western and the Eastern front. Such was the devastating effect of the war on the artist that in his autobiography he referred to his time in the army thus: "On the first of August 1914 M[ax].E[rnst]. diedHe was resurrected on the eleventh of November 1918." How could one any longer draw bowls of fruits or natty portraits of high society fashion or even peaceful fishing villages like their forbears. The times were out of joint, connected only by the most tenuous thin reed bonds.   


History In The Making-In The Unmaking Too-Audrey Tautou’s “Coco before Chanel” (2009)-A Film Review

History In The Making-In The Unmaking Too-Audrey Tautou’s “Coco before Chanel” (2009)-A Film Review



DVD Review

By Leslie Dumont

Coco Before Chanel, starring Audrey Tautou, 2009   

Apparently Greg Green who hands out the assignment here, all the assignments here unlike before he came over to manage this sit and headed the film department at American Film Gazette where I was a stinger for a while early in his tenure has decided that I am to be the “women’s film” reviewer in residence since with the film under review Coco before Chanel marks the fourth straight women-oriented film I have reviewed. I don’t like, don’t like that implication at all, since if I had wanted to shell myself into a cozy non-threatening spot I could have kept my by-line at Women Today where I reviewed many things including films which were only marginally about women, one about a couple of gay men where there were no women at all.

The real thing that bothers me about this assignment from Greg who although he had posted in public that he reviews every film before assignment seemingly could not have done so here though is the subject matter on two counts. First dealing with famed Parisian haute couture fashion designer Coco Chanel when I do not give a damn about high fashion or low and resent that I have to blather on about fashionable hats and dresses like that meant anything in the real world. Fellow writer here Josh Breslin who was my companion for some years before I went to my by-line at Women Today can testify that I threw the bottle of Chanel No. 5 perfume he gave me one Christmas  across the room one time later when we having a drawn out, drag down fight about something. So much for fashion, high or low. The more egregious point though is that this is basically a dishonest film, a film which very conveniently cuts away before the German occupation of Paris when Ms. Chanel according to now disclosed documents worked hand and hand with the occupiers of what could have been burning Paris if Hitler had had his way and never was held truly accountable for her collaboration and her convenient grabbing fortunes when the Jews were rounded up. Thus this vehicle portrays yet another rags to riches by the bootstraps by a poor trodden down orphan who falls in love and is disappointed. Damn another two-bit love story.          

Holding my nose, officially holding my nose if anybody including Greg Green is asking, I will do what is expected ever since Sam Lowell’s days as film editor and tell a few details about the plot-line. Coco and her sister were treated as wayward orphans at the hellish Catholic orphanage they grew up in after their mother died. When they came of age (after learning how to sew at the orphanage) they hit the road as a sister singing act and drew the attentions of some high society patrons of the saloon where they worked (and where Coco got her moniker). These upscale relationships gained them, and eventually Coco alone, some important connections with high society, with the world of money where women as “pet poodles” were as conscious about fashion as they were about having their sullen little side affairs.     

Coco’s relationship with one such high society male got her entrée into the provincial country elite and then off to gay Paree where her hats first and later high end dresses gave her a certain cache. The film’s tension is between her overweening ambition, not a bad thing in and of itself especially for a single woman of limited means, and a love affair with a British businessman that cannot go anywhere since he, seeking his main chance, is engaged to be married to some daughter of the England nobility. Before that happens though the beast died in a car accident and that was that. Although Coco never married she was at least a mistress to some high ranking German when the Nazis tried to devour Europe, including Paris. I am still holding my nose. No mas.    

Monday, February 17, 2020

If You Want The Stuff Senator Bernie Sanders Has Been Talking About For A Million Years Including Out In The Wilderness When It Was Not Fashionable About Medicare For All, Eliminating Student Debt, The Fight For $15 (Hell Now More Than That) To Happen Accept No Substitutes-Fight For Bernie 2020 Not Come Lately Elizabeth Warren

If You Want The Stuff Senator Bernie Sanders Has Been Talking About For A Million Years Including Out In The Wilderness When It Was Not Fashionable About Medicare For All, Eliminating Student Debt, The Fight For $15 (Hell Now More Than That) To Happen Accept No Substitutes-Fight For Bernie 2020 Not Come Lately Elizabeth Warren  


Sunday, February 16, 2020

The Roots Is The Toots: The Music That Got The Generation Of ’68 Through The 1950s Red Scare Cold War Night-The Real Scoop Behind “Brother, Can You Spare A Dime?”-Martha and the Vandellas- Dancing In The Streets

The Roots Is The Toots: The Music That Got The Generation Of ’68 Through The 1950s Red Scare Cold War Night-The Real Scoop Behind “Brother, Can You Spare A Dime?”-Martha and the Vandellas- Dancing In The Streets



This sketch takes place in the 1970s but is driven, and driven hard, by the music of the early 1960s when the grifter described here first came of age and hence its inclusion. Frank Jackman

“Hey, brother, can you spare a dime?,” (or sister now something unheard of back in the day, back in the early 1960s, when some cop might pinch you at her request for disturbing the fair sex  for  being unseemly in public asking a proper lady for anything. Now here in the go-go 70s any human form is qualified for the hustle where every low-rent guy takes a shot figuring maybe to get something so the other party, particularly women, can get you out of their faces and move on) followed by “Got an extra cigarette, pal (or gal, ditto the sister thing except unlike back in the day, pal or gal, in the new age, as likely as not, probably has no butts, has no “cigs,” doesn’t touch the stuff ever since the Surgeon-General’s report put the fear of God in lots of people)?”

Yeah, Billy Bailey, William James Bailey, used-to-be brash corner boy, a contender for the title of king hell king of the corner boy night around Salducci’s Pizza Parlor, “up the downs” back in North Adamsville in the old days, the old days these days being the early 1960s before smart and brash corner boy Frankie Riley put an end to that dream by trumping all upstarts since  he was “in” with the shop owner, certainly had the panhandler lingo down, down pat, after only a few days on the bum. Funny during these few days on the bum this time he would almost blush when he thought back to the days when he used to laugh in the faces of swollen-faced raggedy-assed guys trying to pan-handle him for dough, trying to bum a smoke, and here he was with the brethren. Hustling maybe a little cleaner in attire that the brethren since he had not gotten down to second-hand Sally goods yet although a few more weeks with constant use of the few clothes that he did have might have him howling. Hustling too with cleaner breathe since he did not drink (that jones long over and done with substituted by several subsequent joneses including his current burden. He still felt that contempt for the buggers since he “knew” that a few days of this street work and he would be off the skids, on his feet again and then able to go back to laughing at the brethren, a good laugh too, while they pipe-dreamed their lives away.

Yeah, this was strictly temporary because his ship would come in before he wound up on cheap street like the boyos hanging around the Common swilling rotgut wine (or maybe low-rent whiskey if the day’s take was good) smoking tobacco “roaches,” butt end really off the ground and pissing all over themselves. However every once in a while he would get a funny feeling, kind of turn up his collar a little more, push his baseball cap lower on his head, put on sunglasses ( a real no-no in the pan-handler racket since you want the “marks” to see your desperate eyes, your pleading desperate eyes, to close the deal. Besides sunglasses might make them feel you just blew in from the coast.) when he realized that he was on the bum in his own home town, his ever-loving’ roots, Boston. (His hometown of North Adamsville close enough so that he did not have to tell people who asked the name of the town and could get by with Boston unlike if he was from Lowell or Lawrence or places like that. Sure he had been on the bum a few times, nothing big, once on the Mission in Frisco (where in the same day he walked across the Golden Gate Bridge and that night slept, slept newspaper for a pillow sleep, under that edifice), a couple of times on Larimer Street in Denver before they gentrified the damn place and along the arroyos down in Los Angeles with a bunch of Vietnam veterans like himself who unlike him couldn’t adjust to the “real” world. 

Yeah, those were a few day bums, maybe a week, couple of weeks, no more than a month and then back to the world. Short falls, maybe drunk too much and jobless, later maybe too much gambling on run-out horses and dogs (and no money coming in to feed the habits once he got behind), maybe some twist threw him over for a steady guy after he wore out his welcome (and her pocketbook). On the bum this time, this time though a real fall, in hock and up to his ass in debt, mostly big score no-go dope on credit deal debts,  when he had tired of drunk risks, gambling risks, frail risks,  guys looking for him, not Boston guys thankfully, well, looking for him to pay up. During the long days of pan-handling this time though he would think back to the old days, the days before the “falls” when hustling dough was just for some short money, pick up some spare change, to wander into free campsite, Volkswagen bus pick-up sharing stews, brews and dope hitchhike roads looking for the great blue-pink American West night with some honey, some Angelica honey, bum like a few years back. Angelica, the proto-type of his sexual desire in those days, all Midwest blonde, slender, frisky, proud and sensible, traipsing after him across half the continent before going home to Indiana and then later joining him in southern California before she decided on white picket fences and kids. Sweet kiss, baby, you were probably right when that last night you said your gallant knight was made of sawdust. Yeah, that was a while back, late 1960s back when even he sensed the world might be turned upside down. Hoped maybe he and his would get a fair shake in the world even though more pressing personal issues drove his days and nights. 

Those days, those days after the hellish army routine, the “Nam bummer, the Nam bummer before he hightailed it with the arroyos brothers who couldn’t face the “real” world down in L.A. he practically made a religion, yah a religion out of living “free,” living out of the knapsack(oddly an old World War II surplus job found at Snyder’s Army and Navy which he father had told him he carried all thorough Europe when it was to kick ass with the Nazi), living under bridge (not arroyos brother bridges but nice, meaning girl company nice, sleeping bag also Army surplus and light campfires and fine stews), no sweat, if need be. But those “golden days” dried up a few years back and now here in 1976 he was facing a real skid row choice. How it happened he will get to along the way but first let’s set the parameters of what 1976 panhandling, to put an eloquent name on it for “bumming”, shiftless bumming , looked like and how to survive in the new age of everybody me-ing themselves, even with people who were not on the bum. Christ, lord the times were hard, hard times in old Babylon, no question.

See, a guy, a guy who called himself “Shorty” McGee for obviously physical reasons but who knows what his real name was, maybe he didn’t remember either after all the rum-dum sterno heat years and the endless backsides of skid row haunts, that he had hitched up with for a minute, an overnight minute at the Salvation Army Harbor Lights Center over in the South End kind of hipped him to the obvious tricks of the new down-at the-heels road. Like putting the two requests, change and “cigs,” together when you were panhandling. See, Shorty said it was all a matter of psychology, of working the crowd, the downtown crowd, the bustling workaday Park Street Station crowd hurrying to and fro looking for quick lunches, maybe a minute shopping spree in Jordan Marsh’s or Filene’s, and the Copley Square sunning themselves crowd on the benches across from the library maybe reading a book or feeding the pigeons, right to get you out of their sights and back to whatever sweet thing they were doing. So you endlessly put the two requests together, time after time after time, and always. And what happened was that when they turned you down for the dough ( as happened a lot), or maybe took you literally and pieced you off with just a dime, Christ a dime that wouldn’t even buy a cup of joe, could feel good about themselves, if they smoked, smoked cigarettes anyway, by passing you a butt. Billy thought, nice, this Shorty really does have it worked out just about right. Of course dimes and drags were not going to get him out from under, not this time.

Well, rather than leaving the reader out in the dark, Billy Bailey this fair 1976 spring was not just on the bum, but on the lam as well, keeping his head very far down just in case there were some guys who were looking for him, or worst, the cops, in case some irate victim of one of his scams took a notion to “fry his ass.” Of course he was counting on them, those victims, being mainly friends and acquaintances, of not putting “the heat” on him since he had already promised through the grapevine that he would make restitution. But we are getting a little ahead of the story, let’s step back.

The early 1970s were not kind to “free spirits” the previous name for what on this day were “free-loaders” and Billy, well, got behind in his expenses, and his bills, his ever expanding bills. But see the transition from free “s” to free “l” caught him off-guard, moreover he was just then in the throes of a fit of “the world owes me a living,” a serious fit. Why? Well see, he as a pauper son of the desperate working poor, “felt” that since he missed out on the golden age benefits of his youth that he was to make up the difference by putting the “touch” on the richer friends that he had acquired through his doing this and that, mainly high-end drug connections (not really rich but richer since the really rich were hunkered down behind about fifteen layers of fortresses, physical and legal, and as some writer who knew what he was talking about really were different that you and me, no question).

The long and short it was that he work the deal this way, this way once he got his hard wanting habits on first he would “borrow” money off Friend A under some scam pretext of putting it to good use, usually using some exotic drug story as the front (yes, his good use, including several long airplane fight trips to California and other points west-no more hitchhike roads for this moving up the food chain lad) and then borrow dough off Friend B to cover some of his debt to Friend A. Something like an unconscious classic Ponzi scheme, as it turned out. And then when he got to Friend X or somewhere around there things got way too complicated and he started “kiting” checks, and on and on as far deep into his white- collar crime mind as he could think. That could only go on a for a short while and he calculated that "short while" almost to the day when he would have to go “underground” and that day had sprung up a couple of weeks before.

So it took no accountant or smart-ass attorney to know that dimes and drags were not going to get him back on his feet. Nor were many of the schemes that Shorty had outlined over at Harbor Lights as ways to grab quick cash. (Hitting the poor boy charity circuit, good mainly one time, grabbing stuff on credit using somebody’s credit card gained through guys who sold fake credit cards and then selling the stuff quick and deeply discounted. Some check finagling. All things that really took sunnier times to work and squeak maximum benefit from. These were chicken feed for his needs, even his immediate needs, although some of the scams would fill the bill for a rum-dum or life-long skid row bum. But here is the secret, the deep secret that Billy Bailey held in his heart, after a few nights on bus station benches, cold spring night park benches, a night bout under the Andersen Bridge over by old haunt Harvard Square (girl-less and with no cozy sleeping and stew campfires), and a few nights that he would rather not discuss just in case, he finally figured out, figured out kicking and screaming, that the world did not owe him a living and that if he wanted to survive past thirty he had better get the stardust and grit out of his eyes. But just this minute, just this undercover spring 1976 minute, he needed to work the Commons. “Hey, brother, hey sister, can you spare a dime?” “Pal, have you got an extra cigarette?”

Postscript: Not all wisdom ends happily, and not all good intentions grow to fruition. Yes, Billy paid off his debts to his friends, mostly. However, Billy Bailey was killed while “muling” in a drug war shoot-out in Juarez, Mexico in late 1979 trying to do an independent score when the bad boy Mexican and South American cartels were bundling things up. Found face down with two in the back of the head. Yeah, Billy Bailey had moved down the chain a lot since the days when he was a contender for the king hell king of the corner boy night.

On The 50th Anniversary Of Tet- “What The Hell Are We Fighting For-Next Stop Is Vietnam”-Never Forgive, Never Forget” From The North Adamsville Vietnam War Class of 1969- Novack-Ken Burns’ “The Vietnam War” Documentary

On The 50th Anniversary Of Tet- “What The Hell Are We Fighting For-Next Stop Is Vietnam”-Never Forgive, Never Forget” From The North Adamsville Vietnam War Class of 1969- Novack-Ken Burns’ “The Vietnam War” Documentary




For “Mogie” Crocker and all the other brothers and sisters who laid down their heads in that goddam war. Never forget, never forgive-Sam Lowell, Si Lannon, and Allan Jackson-War Class of 1969  

By Sam Eaton

If 1967 was dominated by the Summer of Love (the 50th anniversary of which was commemorated last year mainly on the West Coast which was the central axis of the movement and which had a hell of a lot of space in this blog in 2017 since a goodly number of the older writers from North Adamsville were involved one way or another) then 1968 was the Year Of Tet, the year of war, real war for a lot of the same guys around our way who celebrated the “drugs, sex, and rock and roll” cultural explosion of the previous year. You may wonder why I, Sam Eaton am writing this piece since usually in this space I do a little political commentary, mainly around war issues, books, and music and am not one of the guys listed in the epitaph. That answer is simple and two-fold. First, none of those North Adamsville guys after seeing the ten part Ken Burns/Lynn Novack series and the memories it stirred in them felt up to the task of actually writing about those old-time war experiences. (Even Frank Jackman who was in his own way part of the North Adamsville War Class of ’69, a soldier in the Army at that time but one who unlike them refused orders to Vietnam and served some serious time in an Army stockade which will be expanded upon below refused to write about his experiences.) Secondly, I too am a member of the War Class of ’69 although I came from Carver about forty miles south of North Adamsville and have unlike the other guys never mentioned that hard fact in the public prints. Hell most of the people I know do not know I was in Vietnam during that hellish war. In the Burns’ documentary very early on one of the “talking head” ex-Vietnam Marines mentioned that a very close friend of hers husband had been in Vietnam as well as her own husband but it was not until twelve years into their friendship that the even knew that mutual fact. So this is me coming out of the closet and so bear with me if I stumble a bit. (By the way my association with the North Adamsville guys happened a few years later after Vietnam when we were all way or another in Vietnam Veterans Against the War, VVAW, mostly in Boston with former Secretary of State John Kerry and later, and now too, with Veterans Peace Action, VPA)  

One of the big things that jogged my memories while watching the early parts of the documentary was how very similar the backgrounds and attitudes of the various “grunts,” the guys who fought the war on the ground, the mainly white working class and black and Hispanic (Latino if that is the preferred reference) whose stories were being told. How much of a true cross-section of the millions of men who went to that war I don’t know but the stories “spoke to me,” spoke of my own upbringing. Spoke too of a lot of the values and unquestioning subservience that we all were brought up in during that heinous Cold War red scare time. “Better dead that red,” “if your mommy is a commie turn her in” real slogans that expressed the underlying terms which we dealt with for anything that moved anywhere not 100 per cent pro-American “my country right or wrong” another key slogan, could be construed as pro-Soviet or pro-“Red Chinese’ an actual expression used to describe that country after the victory of Mao and his brethren.)

I will go into the very similar “life-styles” of the North Adamsville guys, the “corner boys” which meant something in working class culture in the 1950s and 1960s but is something I was not part of down in Carver since in those days before it became something of a bedroom community for the high tech industry about twenty miles away it didn’t have anything like a corner pizza parlor, bowling alleys or variety store to be a corner boy around. Or enough guys with time on their hands to hold up the wall in front of the place. Carver in those days was something like the cranberry capital of the world and those in the town, including four generations as far as I can figure on the Eaton side and three on the O’Brian side, who actually worked the bogs, were called derisively “boggers” which defined the class division in the town. Including where you lived, our section called the “Hump.” 

For our purposes though the “boggers” and the other cohort, the middle class cohort called “the Pilgrims” since many of those families could trace their roots pretty far back although I do not remember that any family could claim forebear’s passage on the Mayflower shared common patriotic holiday traditions with parades and other festivities which is the only time there was social mingling. With the exception of a couple of great bogger football players those lines held all through school, most rigidly in high school where you had no chance with the Pilgrim girls and either tied up with a bogger girl or looked out of town, something which I tended to do since I couldn’t deal with what the bogger girl expected on their guys, marriage right out of high school and some Hump small apartment.

The big thing though is that in the Hump you went into the military when called up by the draft, or more usually since the high school drop-out rate for boggers was pretty high volunteer. In my own family, mostly uneducated, I would be the first to actually go to college and get a degree, those four generations of boggers all went to war when called going back to World War I. On the O’Brian side likewise and my mother’s uncle, Frank, has a square still named after him in the town common having died in World War I. So, and it came through loud and clear in the various documentary interviews, where was there room for not going into the military when I was drafted. Where was there a support system if I, or anybody in town, had refused. At the time this town would have crucified any young man who refused the draft, thought about Canada which was not even on the radar, or even thought to express an anti-war opinion whatever they thought instead and whatever doubts they had about going to war especially in my time, my war class time of 1969 when all hell was breaking loose in Vietnam, and in this country. So I went in, did what I had to do to survive and tried to forget about the awful things I did, and had seen done to people I had no quarrel with. It took a few years to shake that horror loose before I grabbed a life-line from a bunch of guys, fellow veterans, who wanted to stop the war madness- and still do.

The impetus for my getting off my duff had been watching a bunch of Vietnam veterans marching in silence (and in an orderly march manner something which tended to be lacking up to this day in later anti-war veterans peace marches and such), down a hot and humid Miami boulevard during the week of the Republican National Convention in 1972. The sight of those be-medaled soldiers, sailors, Marines, airmen, stirred something in me that no dope, no alcohol my previous remedies of sorts could slake. Their rough treatment by the Nixon-fired up forces of law and order further made something in me snap. Don’t ask me now some fifty years later to explain everything I was thinking that pushed me on to the brink of self-destruction and everything that pulled me back any more than you could ask all those soldiers and Marines on the Ken Burns interviews what moved them to anti-war action. Amazingly when asked to articulate some of that experience and the why of it those interviewees stopped and could not come up with an answer other than the very familiar “I don’t know.”  Except I knew, they knew,  all roads led back to Vietnam, led back to the bad stuff we did there, stuff that we could never live down.  

Back in 1972, maybe 1971 too I was living in Rhode Island to be away from friends, family, girlfriends, everybody while I sorted things out. Didn’t let anybody but growing up friend Will Badger know where I was since while he had been in the Navy during the war shelling the hell out of places like Da Nang and far from the daily butchery on the ground he was a troubled soul as well. He did slip up one time and somehow my girlfriend who had been my fiancé before I left for Vietnam but as was the nature of the times we decided not to “go bourgeois” and get little white house with picket fence, kids, and dog married and wind up like our respective parents followed him one day. After something of a screaming match initiated by me we decided to keep company, be companions again and I was glad of that in the end even though we drifted apart a few years later when she wanted to get married and I was against the idea.

All through those experiences I kept thinking about that powerful silent veterans march and that fall of 1972 I went up to Boston once I found out where there was an active VVAW chapter. (This remember before the days of the Internet which would have let me find the organization in about two minutes. Then I had to check the telephone directory and got no information since the phone number was not listed as yet in that publication and only found out where they had an office and telephone number by going to Providence and Brown University to a Vietnam Mobilization office where they had such information about what was what in New England.)          

At that first meeting in Boston two things happened which marked me then and to this day. One was that in the political divide within the organization about what is always an issue with left-wing groups whether to push the electoral button or go for street confrontations I tended toward the street cred guys, the flame-throwers against guys like former Secretary of State (and U.S. Senator from Massachusetts) John Kerry who even then was looking for the “main chance” which he sought with a vengeance. This issue tended to draw something of a class line as well since those who favored the electoral essentially reformist way to deal with social change, with the struggle against the military machine and war tended to have been ROTC or OCS officers and from very middle class backgrounds and those like the guys from North Adamsville who I will discuss in a minute and me who wanted to “burn the mother-fucker down,” go after those in the mansions.            

The other thing that has stayed with me to this day are the friendships, social and political friendships, I struck up with the guys from North Adamsville and guys they had gathered around them like Josh Breslin from up in Maine whom they met out in California during that Summer of Love, 1967 that was the hot topic here last year and Fritz Taylor and Ralph Morse met in the Army. Everyone was a flame-thrower, a “burn the mansion down” guy then, and not far from that now either although time has mellowed them (and me) personally-a bit. The basis of that mutual attraction was the incredible similarity of all of our growing up experiences, the white working class and white trash poor backgrounds whether in North Adamsville, Carver, Olde Saco, Maine or with Fritz Fulton County, Georgia, the unquestioning patriotism, the anti-communism culled from the red scare Cold war night that enveloped us all, and the small town-ish values about “Mom, God and apple pie” Fourth of July parade façade that we swallowed hook, line and sinker.

Here is an antidote from the mad wizard Seth Garth which kind of sums up the social milieu around the war issue mid-1960s working class style which tells a lot, maybe all you need to know about how Uncle Sam got the “cannon fodder,” not my term originally but one that we all have adopted since back in the days, to fight his wars then, now too probably even with an all-volunteer army, the volunteer part subject to lots of social, class, racial, ethnic, and economic provisos. Seth had decided to attend his fiftieth class reunion, the Class of 1964 but the other classes around that time produced the same fact once the corner boys from different graduation years compared notes on the subject, a few years ago and as a prelude to that the organizers of the reunion (not so strangely the same “social butterflies,” male and female who were the “in crowd” back in high school at least the ones who were still standing), set up a class website to gather information about those still standing.

That class, that heart of the baby-boomer class, had about five hundred members of which about two hundred or so responded, about evenly divided between male and female. (By way of comparison my whole combined junior and senior high school had five hundred students to give another example of how small Carver was then.) One of the questions asked was about military service which in that day would have been a question asked and answered almost totally by males. Of that one hundred or so respondents ninety of them put down some military service from National Guard to Vietnam including a small clot of military lifers. That alone tells the tale about who went and what the environment was like for anybody who thought for a minute about resistance or even just questioning the aims of the war, or of war.           

We still gnash our teeth over our collective naïve, our collective taking in the bullshit without question and our failures to do something about the whole damn thing long before we were drafted or enlisted. (That latter condition, drafted or enlisted, the only thing that separated the entire collective which was as much about personal circumstances as anything since it never entered anybody’s mind, even special case, Frank Jackman, not to go into the military in our youth.)
The North Adamsville guys, I will deal with Josh, Fritz, and a couple of other guys in passing, were cemented together by one thing, they all grew up in the desperately poor working class and working poor neighborhood of the town called the “Acre.” All were members of the North Adamsville classes of 1963, 64, 65 (the prime years for young men who would face the grist mill of Vietnam which cut too many from those years in their prime). Josh was Olde Saco Class of 1967, Fritz Robert E. Lee High Class of 1962). More importantly the social glue that kept them together centered in their high school days around Tonio’s Pizza Parlor where they were the so-called corner boys, a mainly derogatory sociological and cultural term coined by legal professionals, cops, and academics who were worried about the angst and alienation of this swath of  youth. The term fit so completely that they adopted the expression for their own amusement. Mainly that amusement was hanging around Tonio’s since they rarely had dough for dates and such or going on what they called the “midnight creep,” grabbing stuff through burglaries to get dough for dates and such.  A hard dollar any way you look at it and it was a close thing that they mainly survived to tell the tale.       

You cannot, I cannot although I only him slightly personally and more through endless talk of his legend, talk about the North Adamsville corner boys without mentioning their “leader” Peter Paul Markin, always known as “Scribe.” (This is the real Markin who died in the 1970s not the former site manager of this blog who used the moniker on-line in honor of his fallen comrade which explains a lot of that “leader” point just made.) The Scribe was not the leader, leader, you know the one who kept things in order that was Frankie Riley who wound up 4-F (unfit for military duty) and who later became a very successful lawyer in Boston, but something like the intellectual leader. He was the guy who got Sam Lowell, Si Lannon, Jack Callahan, Bart Webber, Allan Jackson, Seth Garth, Frank Jackman, Jimmy Jenkins who would die in Vietnam in 1968, and Frankie all except Frankie who would be drafted or enlist in the military to head out to California in the summer of 1967 and get knee-deep, no, neck-deep in the Summer of Love. (Other North Adamsville corner boys Rick Rizzo and Johnny Kelly who lived right next door to each other and joined the Army together laid down their heads in Vietnam in 1966 so never got the chance to experiment with the “drugs, sex, and rock and roll” that drove those days.) Josh met this crew out there as well before his military service. Fritz came into the group through Sam when they were in the Army together.

Markin too was the guy who probably was the most affected by his loss of innocence from his Vietnam experience, by the shattering of his Summer of Love-like dreams for a new world which he really expected to happen according to all the guys. Like me his was “lost” coming back to the “real” world as we called it after landing in the U.S.A from Vietnam. He would drift back out to California and start writing for a bunch of alterative newspapers which were flourishing out there for a while. Did some award-winning work when he found and joined an alternative society of returned Vietnam War G.I.s who like him could not adjust to the “real” world and lived along the railroad tracks and bridges of South California doing the best they could. Singer/songwriter Bruce Springsteen would name a song later which would fit-“brothers under the bridge.” Markin wrote, or rather let them tell their stories for a while.

Josh who lived out in Oakland with him in a communal house then said he was starting to come out of his shell with that work. Not for long though because later in the mid-1970s he would develop a very serious cocaine habit which he fed by dealing the drug, always a bad proposition and wound up getting killed, murdered, down in Mexico after a botched drug deal with a couple of slugs in his head in some back alley. Nobody knows to this day exactly what happened although they still shed a tear every time his name is mentioned.

All of that was a few years later though when it was unmistakable that the “newer world” was not going to make it.  In 1972 they were under Markin’s guidance members of VVAW and in attendance that that first meeting I went to. They all had, except Frank Jackman who I will discuss in a minute, various evidences of their service on. As had I. My 101st Airborne patch on an old faded olive drab shirt with my name tag on it. Si had been attached to the same division and was the first to welcome me. The meeting, the long meeting as such things went in those days when in the interest of “democracy” everybody got to speak for as long as they wanted and seemingly whatever they wanted even if off-topic, went as expected as they were planning an action on Boston Common in conjunction with the inevitable Fall/Spring semi-annual anti-war mobilizations coming up a few weeks later. They invited me to Durgin Park for some food and drink (mostly drink and later some dope). During this meal/drink-fest Markin, who was back from California for a while since he was looking for a couple of guys who he had met “under the bridge” to get their “back stories” asked for my story.

Everybody except me laughed when I had finished my seemingly sad little tale of a story. Laughed a sardonic laugh when you think about it because Si asked me whether I had grown up in North Adamsville. I didn’t understand the question until he said that my story, like their stories, like the stories of Mogie, Mulgrave, Sullivan in the Burns’ documentary, was too familiar. That the working class from small towns and sections of cities and poor bastards in the ghettoes and barrios bore the brunt of the crap that went down in Vietnam no matter what happened at home (or among those groupings in Vietnam, not always brotherly, no way, the racial tensions would sometimes get hot and heavy especially when the mainly white officers overplayed placing black men on point or down in the fucking tunnels but also when guys from small white bread towns like me couldn’t figure out what made the black guys tick and the same the other way).   So I was “initiated” and like Josh and Fritz (and Remmy and Jamal, a couple of black brothers who have since died one of an overdose of heroin started out in the Golden Triangle madness) became an honorary North Adamsville corner boy. And I still am, proudly am.                 

The Scribe was one end of what happened to some guys during and after the war but I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the special case of Frank Jackman, another North Adamsville corner boy. In the Burns documentary the famous Vietnam War writer Tim O’Brien laments, no anguishes over the fact that he had not refused to be drafted, not refused to go to Vietnam. Others both in that presentation and in real life in the organizations I have belonged to most recently Veterans Peace Action where there are clots of guys who anguished over those kinds of decisions that young people, young soldiers are forced to deal  just like Tim O’Brian had had to do. It may be hard for the couple of generations that have now come of age since Vietnam time to fathom what EVERY young male had to go through back then even those who were gung-ho to go. Draft refusal, going to Canada or Sweden, going to jail, going to the stockade, faking all kind of injuries that would make one 4-F (unfit for military duty) some of them pretty gruesome, faking mental disorders,. faking homosexuality then a way out, scrambling to get into National Guard or Armed Forces Reserved units. I could go on but you get the picture, decisions all around the subject. So plenty of similar stories and regrets. After the service, after the fact. That was my case and the case of all the North Adamsville corner boys, real and honorary, everybody except beautiful and righteous Frank Jackman was did refuse to go, who let his conscience and maybe a few generations of hard won integrity and thoughtfulness DNA guide his decisions. A little balls too as we used to say back in the day when somebody did some action worthy of such a note, jail time always a qualifier, once he had orders to do so, to report to Fort Lewis for transit to Vietnam.     

Now we all know, and if the reader doesn’t then a run though this ten-part Burns-Novack series will enlighten you to the fact, that during the American portion of the war, the American War as the Vietnamese rightly called it, every and I mean every young man had a decision to make, consciously or unconsciously, about what to do about his participation in the war machine. Like I said above some refused the draft, some went to Canada, some filed and received civilian conscientious objector status of some kind, some when in the service went AWOL, and a lot of other things. Maybe Burns could have spent more time on those anguishing decisions and on the resistance in the military itself especially after Tet, 1968. A few, and Frank Jackman was one of them, were of that small, small as against a couple of million man army, category of military resister. Went in like the rest of us did but at some point said no-no to Vietnam, no to the killing the rest of us, anti-war and pro-war, proud of service or not, have spent the rest of our lives trying to square up. Funny because of all the guys who hung around the corner one would have expected the wild man Scribe, Markin, to have been a resister if anybody was. Still Frank Jackman’s story can serve as a very graphic example of the anguish of the generation of ’68.

If you noticed the headline to this piece there is a reference to the War Class of 1969. That is because everyone who I have mentioned here from North Adamsville to Fulton County, Georgia, including myself, served in the military during that fateful year, the year after Tet proved to all who cared to see, all who had anything but a hidebound refusal to see, that the war, the American war once again as the Vietnamese correctly called it, was unwinnable. Meaning that those who served in say 1969, who were the grunts, the “cannon fodder” were serving for no reasonable reason except as we learned later through The Pentagon Papers and other Freedom of Information documents governmental hubris. Only the names changed throughout the changes in government the hubris remained until almost the very end. They, we, all served and forevermore called ourselves the class of 1969. That class included one soldier, Frank Jackman, who did not serve in Vietnam but who will forevermore also be a member of that class of 1969.

Frank Jackman had had orders to report to Fort Lewis in Washington for transit to Vietnam and through a rather long process including stockade time refused to go. We would often talk, we still do although not when Frank is around because he like a ton of Vietnam era guys, military guys, don’t like to talk about those times even if he was righteous and as courageous as anybody who went to death trap Vietnam, about how Frank out of the almost dozen guys was the one guy who refused to go, refused to righteously go despite no support at home and no history of there being anything like it done in his town, my town, our collective clot of towns, before. Frank was not a leader among the North Adamsville corner boys like Frankie Riley or the Scribe but a sideliner, a guy who was as comfortable with a book as a jimmy for those infamous midnight creeps. (Everybody, all hands, except the Scribe who planned many of the creeps but who was totally incompetent to carry them out participated in every caper on principal-or would have gotten the boot.) Make no mistake he had imbibed, believed all of the stuff us other guys did about duty, patriotism and the like but there was something of the quietude in him that spoke of something more, or maybe as he pointed out when we discussed it later, that was so much eyewash.

Frank like all the others accepted induction in his case after he finished college in 1968 and received his draft notice to report in January 1969 (he had received four years of deferment for going to college standard at the time dependent on decent grades but in a way the kiss of death for the army with smart civilian citizens mixed in with the usual high school graduates and drop-outs). It was about after three days down in Fort Gordon for basic training far from home that he realized that he had made a mistake, that he should have refused induction. Being isolated down in the South he waited until he got back home after receiving order to Vietnam as an infantryman to decide what to do in August 1969. (Yes, the August 1969 when half a million other kids, boys and girls, were like lemmings to the sea to Woodstock nation and good luck.)

All he knew was that the war was over for him. He made his way over to Cambridge and the Quaker Meeting House where they were offering G.I. counselling for those who were military refuse-niks. For years the anti-war movement had bene centered on draft resistance and maybe rightly so but as the years rolled on and the number of Frank-like guys started needing help organizations like the Friends expanded their operation. There was a political component to it as well since protesting government policy was leading up a blind alley and if the natural objective of the anti-war was to stop the war then they had to get to the troops. Get down in the mud at the base and stop depending on some politician-savior to break the fall, to half-heartedly call the whole thing dust in the eyes.  

Through the counselling process plans were outlined, options presented the most reasonable given Frank’s situation was for him to go absent without leave (AWOL) for more than thirty days which would leave him dropped from the rolls out in Fort Lewis (AWOL a chargeable offense itself although pretty far down on the totem pole of penalties) and then turn himself to the nearest local fort, Fort Devens about forty miles from Boston to put in an application for status as a conscientious objector. A strategy while outlined which was aided by assigning him a pro bone civilian lawyer. (Not all G.I.s sought, desired, or received civilian lawyers partially because so few of them were familiar with the arcane Code of Military Justice but the way Frank presented himself, presented the case they thought he could use good legal advice and make some splash. That turned out to be true on all counts.)  
As that time conscientious objector status for those who were actually in the military was rare, very rare, and in due course he was turned down although at every level those who interviewed him believed he was sincere which would help him later when he got to civilian federal court. By a stroke of luck, and a good attorney, he was able to get his case into the federal court in Boston along with a temporary restraining order to keep him in the jurisdiction of the court. (The stroke of luck was getting a notoriously conservative judge to see that Frank had a case in civilian court that he could win. That too would come in handy later. But that was only the surface, the technical stuff.)            

That is where that idea of whatever Frank had inside him, whatever grit the generations had left in his DNA came to the fore. He decided that he would no longer play the soldier and so one Monday morning when the weekly formation came up he walked onto the parade field in civilian clothing and a sign “Bring the boys home.” Immediately a couple of lifer sergeants grabbed him and that started his road to the stockade. He would eventually serve two six month sentences for refusing to obey orders to wear the uniform. For years he would make the few people he told his story to laugh when he told them that if the federal court had not granted his writ of habeas corpus he might still be in that stockade he was so determined to fight the bastards to the end. So maybe that story should have gotten some play, or stories like that when Ken Burns was trying to tie the knot around what the whole thing meant. Might have thought twice, as a civilian, about a remark attributed to him about “war being in the DNA of the human species and hence all beyond the pale, all doomed to bloody up the world and let untold number lay down their heads for some stupid cause. Still and all Frank belongs in that small cohort of the war class of 1969 as some kind of beacon. That says it all, all that needs to be said.