Thursday, June 18, 2015


*In Honor Of Our Class-War Prisoners- Free All The Class-War Prisoners!-Bill Dunne

 


http://www.thejerichomovement.com/prisoners.html

 

A link above to more information about the class-war prisoner honored in this entry.

Make June Class-War Prisoners Freedom Month

Markin comment (reposted from 2010)


In “surfing” the National Jericho Movement Website recently in order to find out more, if possible, about class- war prisoner and 1960s radical, Marilyn Buck, whom I had read about in a The Rag Blog post I linked to the Jericho list of class war prisoners. I found Marilyn Buck listed there but also others, some of whose cases, like that of the “voice of the voiceless” Pennsylvania death row prisoner, Mumia Abu-Jamal, are well-known and others who seemingly have languished in obscurity. All of the cases, at least from the information that I could glean from the site, seemed compelling. And all seemed worthy of far more publicity and of a more public fight for their freedom.

That last notion set me to the task at hand. Readers of this space know that I am a longtime supporter of the Partisan Defense Committee, a class struggle, non-sectarian legal and social defense organization which supports class war prisoners as part of the process of advancing the international working class’ struggle for socialism. In that spirit I am honoring the class war prisoners on the National Jericho Movement list this June as the start of what I hope will be an on-going attempt by all serious leftist militants to do their duty- fighting for freedom for these brothers and sisters. We will fight out our political differences and disagreements as a separate matter. What matters here and now is the old Wobblie (IWW) slogan - An injury to one is an injury to all.

Note: This list, right now, is composed of class-war prisoners held in American detention. If others are likewise incarcerated that are not listed here feel free to leave information on their cases in the comment section. Likewise any cases, internationally, that come to your attention. I am sure there are many, many such cases out there. Make this June, and every June, a Class-War Prisoners Freedom Month- Free All Class-War Prisoners Now!

*In Honor Of Our Class-War Prisoners- Free All The Class-War Prisoners!- Reverend Joy Powell

 


http://www.thejerichomovement.com/prisoners.html

 

A link above to more information about the class-war prisoner honored in this entry.

Make June Class-War Prisoners Freedom Month

Markin comment (reposted from 2010)


In “surfing” the National Jericho Movement Website recently in order to find out more, if possible, about class- war prisoner and 1960s radical, Marilyn Buck, whom I had read about in a The Rag Blog post I linked to the Jericho list of class war prisoners. I found Marilyn Buck listed there but also others, some of whose cases, like that of the “voice of the voiceless” Pennsylvania death row prisoner, Mumia Abu-Jamal, are well-known and others who seemingly have languished in obscurity. All of the cases, at least from the information that I could glean from the site, seemed compelling. And all seemed worthy of far more publicity and of a more public fight for their freedom.

That last notion set me to the task at hand. Readers of this space know that I am a longtime supporter of the Partisan Defense Committee, a class struggle, non-sectarian legal and social defense organization which supports class war prisoners as part of the process of advancing the international working class’ struggle for socialism. In that spirit I am honoring the class war prisoners on the National Jericho Movement list this June as the start of what I hope will be an on-going attempt by all serious leftist militants to do their duty- fighting for freedom for these brothers and sisters. We will fight out our political differences and disagreements as a separate matter. What matters here and now is the old Wobblie (IWW) slogan - An injury to one is an injury to all.

Note: This list, right now, is composed of class-war prisoners held in American detention. If others are likewise incarcerated that are not listed here feel free to leave information on their cases in the comment section. Likewise any cases, internationally, that come to your attention. I am sure there are many, many such cases out there. Make this June, and every June, a Class-War Prisoners Freedom Month- Free All Class-War Prisoners Now!
As Obama, His House And Senate Allies, His “Coalition Of The Willing” Ramp Up The War Drums-Again- Stop The Bombings-Stop The Incessant Escalations-- Immediate Withdrawal Of All U.S. Troops And Mercenaries From The Middle East! –Stop The U.S. Arms Shipments …

A New American Military Push In Iraq


 




Ralph Morris comment:

This is my first effort at writing for a blog so bear with me but I have been incensed, no, worse than that, in a rage, over the recent announcement by the Obama administration that he is sending more American “advisers” into the hell-hole in Iraq. The classic incremental mission creep anybody who knew anything about the situation in Iraq could have told you was going to happen after the last set of escalations Obama announced over a year ago. My old friend Sam Easton whom I have worked with in the anti-war struggles since we met in RFK stadium in Washington, D.C. when we were trying to shut down another government, the Nixon one of unblessed memory, to end the bombing escalations of the already lost Vietnam War, and got nothing but a few days in the bastinado for our efforts is also livid about the latest Obama stunt which has all the earmarks of previous “mission creeps”-escalations to call a thing by its right name. Sam usually is the one who actually likes, if you can believe this, to write his little pieces about what is on his mind and I contribute on the ideas end but Sam has convinced me that I should go public on this one.

See Sam is always one for symbolism, has been as long as I have known him and learned why he was back in 1971 so incensed about the Vietnam War since he had had an exemption due to the fact that he was the sole support of his mother and four younger sisters. Actually had met him first on that May Day after my own arrest for trying to march with a group of ex-veterans to the Pentagon to stage a symbolic shutdown and I had noticed him wandering around the football field wearing a button as a supporter of my organization, Vietnam Veterans Against The War (VVAW) and asked if he was a member since I had not seen him at any of our actions. Then he told me the story about Jeff Mullin his closest high school friend being blown away in 1968 in some nondescript village near Pleiku up in the Central Highland not all that far from where my unit was located for most of 1967. He said that he had become an anti-warrior with a vengeance and a supporter of VVAW in Jeff’s memory sitting in at draft boards, military bases, recruiting stations and the like in the Boston area and had come down with a group of radicals from Cambridge when they, he, had gotten totally fed up with the Nixon government’s continuation of a war that could only tear the country apart further.

My own story when I told it to Sam as we lingered in that stadium for a few days before we figured out (based on somebody else’s information) that there were some unguarded side exits in which to get out was not untypical of a lot of guys, a lot of working class guys anyway, maybe a few college guys too early on in the war. I had been working in my father’s high skill electrical shop in Troy, New York which had a number of contracts with General Electric, in those days the largest private employer in the area, who had a ton of contracts with the Defense Department. When my draft notice came in early 1967 I flipped out, decided that I did not want to be “cannon fodder” (I did not know that term then or would not have used it then if I did, that can later) and joined up, RA (Regular Army), figuring or rather my recruiting sergeant figuring that I would get into electronics, something I could be useful at. But see in 1967, 1968 what Uncle wanted was cannon fodder in Vietnam to go out into the bush and kill commies. And I did, extending my tour six months in 1968 to get out of my three year commitment a little early. But when I got out I freaked out, freaked out about what I had done to those poor villagers who got in the way, got in the cross-fire, freaked about what my buddies had done too, but mainly was disgusted that the government had made animals out of us, nothing less. So sure I headed to VVAW like a moth to a flame.

And not just giving a couple of years in my youth either since Sam and I have been putting on the good fight against this damn government’s endless wars ever since, especially since the start of the 2003 Iraq endless war. So when a guy like Obama, a Nobel Peace Prize winner if you can believe that (hell, whatever criterion they used probably George Bush I and II could have qualified too), starts rattling off about how we need to go in and stiffen up the Iraq Army which has this tendency to run the minute there is an conflict (heck, maybe they should be nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize, or some prize for running away) then I dust off my “Not Another War in Iraq” sign and hit the streets. Sam too.

You know why-because we have heard that one before, heard it in the American death pits of Vietnam, know it is the same old government rot with a new name, ISIS this time but Viet Cong then (we called them Charlie amongst ourselves when we had to face his relentless fire). So Sam and I urge you to get out in the streets-again. It is the only way to make them listen. And if they don’t well remember May Day 1971 and maybe this time we can shut down the damn wars.        

That is the political action part here is how Sam and I have been putting our heads together over the last couple of years as we could see with un-blinkered eyes the nightmare scenario which Obama and his military gurus and hangers-on have unleashed. Listen up:     

One night not long ago when my friend from high school, Carver High Class of 1967 down in southeastern Massachusetts, Sam Eaton, who I hadn’t seen in a while were, full disclosure, having a few high-shelf whiskeys at Jack Higgin’s Sunnyvale Grille in Boston, arguing over the increasing use of and increased dependence on killer/spy drones in military doctrine, American military doctrine anyway. I also mentioned which is germane here in discussing the broader category of the seemingly endless wars that the American government is determined to wage at the close of our lives so that we never again utter the word “peace” with anything but ironic sneers that I, again for full disclosure, am a supporter of Veterans For Peace and have been involved with such groups, both veteran and civilian peace groups, since my own military service ended back during Vietnam War days. For those not in the know that organization of ex-veterans of the last couple of generations of America’s wars has for over a quarter of a century been determinedly committed to opposing war as an instrument, as the first instrument, of American policy in what it sees as a hostile world (a view that it has held for a long time, only the targeted enemy and the amount of devastation brought forth has changed).  

But Sam is nothing if not determined just like me to carry on in his views and so another night at Jack Higgin’s found us arguing over the more recent egg-in-face aspects of American war policy in the Middle East with the rise of ISIS, the demise of the failed states of Syria, Iraq, and Afghanistan and with it whatever rationale made the American government built a thing from which it had to run. Here is some of our thinking as this damn Iraq War started escalating a couple of years ago:

“Nobel “Peace” Prize Winner, U.S. President Barack Obama (and yes that word peace should be placed in quotation marks every time that award winning is referenced in relationship to this “new age” warmonger extraordinaire), abetted by the usual suspects in the House and Senate (not so strangely more Republicans than Democrats, at least more vociferously so) as internationally (Britain, France, the NATO guys, etc.), has over the past year or so ordered more air bombing strikes in the north of Iraq and in Syria, has sent more “advisers”, another fifteen hundred at last count (but who really knows the real number with all the “smoke and mirrors” by the time you rotate guys in and out, hire mercenaries, and other tricks of the trade long worked out among the bureaucratiti), to “protect” American outposts in Iraq and buck up the feckless Iraqi Army whose main attribute is to run even before contact is made, has sent seemingly limitless arms shipments to the Kurds now acting as on the ground agents of American imperialism whatever their otherwise supportable desires for a unified Kurdish state, and has authorized supplies of arms to the cutthroat and ghost-like moderate Syrian opposition if it can be found to give weapons to,  quite a lot of war-like actions for a “peace” guy (maybe those quotation mark should be used anytime anyone is talking about Obama on any subject ).

 

Of course the existential threat of ISIS has Obama crying to the high heavens for authorizations, essentially "blank check" authorizations just like any other "war" president, from Congress in order to immerse the United States on one side in a merciless sectarian war which countless American blunders from the get go has helped create.

 

All these actions, and threatened future ones as well, have made guys who served in the American military during the Vietnam War and who, like me, belatedly, got “religion” on the war issue from the experience (and have become a fervent anti-warrior ever since), learn to think long and hard about the war drums rising as a kneejerk way to resolve the conflicts in this wicked old world. Have made us very skeptical. We might very well be excused for our failed suspension of disbelief when the White House keeps pounding out the propaganda that these actions are limited when all signs point to the slippery slope of escalation (and the most recent hikes of whatever number for "training" purposes puts paid to that thought).

 

And during all this deluge Obama and company have been saying with a straight face the familiar (Vietnam-era familiar updated for the present)-“we seek no wider war”-meaning no American combat troops. Well if you start bombing places back to the Stone Age, or trying to, if you cannot rely on the weak-kneed Iraqi troops who have already shown what they are made of and cannot rely on a now virtually non-existent “Syrian Free Army” which you are willing to give whatever they want and will still come up short what do you think the next step will be?

 

Now not every event in history gets repeated exactly but given the recent United States Government’s history in Iraq those old time Vietnam vets who I like to hang around with might be on to something. In any case dust off the old banners, placards, and buttons and get your voices in shape- just in case. No New War In Iraq!–Stop The Bombings!- Stop The Arms Shipments!-Vote Down The Syria-Iraq War Budget Appropriations!     

 

***

 

Here is something to think about picked up from a leaflet I picked up at a recent (small) anti-war rally:  

 

Workers and the oppressed have no interest in a victory by one combatant or the other in the reactionary Sunni-Shi’ite civil war in Iraq or the victory of any side in Syria. However, the international working class definitely has a side in opposing imperialist intervention in Iraq and demanding the immediate withdrawal of all U.S. troops and mercenaries. It is U.S. imperialism that constitutes the greatest danger to the world’s working people and downtrodden.

[Whatever unknown sister or brother put that idea together sure has it right]  

The Latest From The Partisan Defense Committee Website-


 

James P. Cannon (center)-Founding leader of The International Labor Defense- a model for labor defense work in the 1920s and 1930s-and today too.

Click below to link to the Partisan Defense Committee website.

http://www.partisandefense.org/

 

Sam Eaton comment:

I have already elsewhere gone over the ground of how me and my old time left-wing political activist comrade, Ralph Morris, met under odd circumstances in Washington, D.C. while we were trying each in his own way to help the efforts on May Day 1971 to shut down the government if it would not shut down the Vietnam War. We did not succeed in that effort, not by a long shot but what did happen there was to cement our longtime friendship and political activity (then in those days at full heat, later to die down to occasional protests against the American monster imperial war machine, and since the lead-up to the ill-fated Iraq War in 2002 a steady continuous struggle against the endless wars and endless war policies of the last two presidential administrations). A lot of the activity of the time beside the fight against the Vietnam War centered on defense of the Black Panthers who had been hounded by the cops and governmental spy agencies almost since their beginning in 1966 out in Oakland. As proven later by the release of various documents under the Freedom of Information Act the cops, especially the then J. Edgar Hoover-led FBI really were out to decimate the Panthers and that we were not being paranoid or hyperbolic in our characterizations of the state’s attitude toward the Panthers and all left-wing political dissenters.        

Ralph and I would go to various Panther defense rallies and do other support work for that organization under the rubric of the “United Front Against Fascism” (an organization that was supported heavily by the Communist Party and its legal apparatus once the Panthers realized that they needed some serious legal services and the CP had the history and resources to provide such help). One of our first ventures together had been to go down to New Haven to rally support for what was then called the New Haven Nine, mainly though Bobby Seale and Erica Huggins. (In those days there were plenty of show trials-the Chicago Nine, then Eight, the New York 21, the Catonsville Nine and so on so there was plenty of need for political defense which both taxed all our limited resources and drained and restrained people from our kind of political activities).    

I bring this political defense work around the black liberation fighters up for a couple of reasons. First, neither Ralph nor I except for the extraordinary nature of the times when this country was torn asunder by the conflict between generations and the conflict in Vietnam would have been involved with helping the black liberation struggle. As I will explain in a minute it was not something that through our previous life experiences we would have gravitated toward. Second, if it had not been for our involvement then in the black liberation struggles and other left-wing political work and our subsequent learning about the history of such work before our time we would not have today been standing in solidarity with freedom for Mumia-Abu-Jamal, Albert Woodfox, Leonard Peltier, Hugo Pinell, Chelsea Manning and for the government to keep their dirty hands off of the likes of Edward Snowden and Julian. And many more cases, as well, too many to mention here right now. More about that in a minute too.   

On the first point I had been brought up in Carver in Massachusetts, the cranberry bog capital of the world, then anyway, in the 1950s and 1960s where there were no black people, none and where, truth be told, no blacks were welcome. Certainly not welcomed by my father before he died early of a massive heart attack probably from too much smoking, drinking and hardly heathy food (my mother I don’t know since she never expressed herself on the matter, at least in my hearing) who had all of the white male Northern working-class prejudices that were prevalent in that day (and still are just not as openly expressed except in private company). Moreover the guys I hung around with in school, mainly high school, including Jeff Mullins who I will discuss more in a minute, hated “n-----s,” would go out of their way to harass a couple of brothers over in Lakeville who didn’t bother anybody. And I went along with it, yeah, went along with it and never said boo about what they were doing.   

But here is where things got funny, got all mixed in the turbulent 60s. I was just going along working in Mister Snyder’s print shop, hoping someday to have my own shop, have my own little business, while the Vietnam War was beginning to heat up, to force people to take sides, to be for the kids who opposed it or got caught up in the military. Me, well, the one thing my father did do   for his family by dying early was leaving me to support my mother and four very younger sisters so I was exempt from the draft, was not going to be cannon fodder, so like I said I was just going along. Then my best friend, my corner boy best friend from Jimmy Jack’s Diner over on Main Street where we hung out in high school, got blown away in the Central Highlands in Vietnam  (in a place that I can’t spell or pronounce right to this day). I took it hard because despite his racism (which I did not know what to call it then, or didn’t want to) Jeff was a guy who got me out of more scrapes than you could shake a stick at, had more moxie than any five guys I knew. So that senseless death tuned me into the war, tuned me into what the opponents were saying, got me active with things like sitting in with Quakers of all people at draft boards, recruiting stations, military bases and later with more secular radicals as I moved a little further left that big Washington action to shut down the government where I met Ralph. (The Quakers by the way did not endorse that May Day event as I recall since they were knee deep in “quiet” civil disobedience and the like.)  

Ralph’s story, well Ralph’s story goes a different way and kind of tells you about the times and how you met people that you probably would not have connected with before, or later. Ralph, from Troy, New York, the same kind of working class town as Carver except lots bigger, an old factory town, where the big deal was General Electric. Ralph’s father a high-skilled electrical shop owner had a few contracts with them and Ralph worked in that shop before he was drafted. Ralph’s father from what he told me hated blacks even worse than my father, especially when they started to try to move into the Tappan Street section of town. Ralph’s father led the opposition and Ralph was right there with him. But here is where things changed in other ways too. Ralph instead of taking the draft decided to enlist, to get an electronics specialty to keep his “young white ass” away from harm. But see in 1967, 1968 Uncle needed killers in the field to kill every commie in Vietnam and so Ralph was cannon fodder, strangely also stationed with a unit up in the Central Highlands. He extended his tour to get out early but when he did in 1969 he was a changed man, he had hated what he did there, hated what his buddies did, including a couple of black guys who had saved his bacon a couple of times, and what the government had done to make him and them nothing but animals, nothing more. So he got the anti-war “religion” the hard way and tagged along with Vietnam Veterans Against the War (VVAW) when he got out. So he with his veterans and me with my Cambridge radical friends wound up in Washington on May Day 1917 and the start of a long friendship.

Things were hot then and you could find almost any kind of progressive or left-wing action you wanted if that is what you wanted probably seven days a week. Then things cooled considerable when the draft changed and then was ended and the various liberation struggles (blacks, Chicanos, Native peoples, gays, women) went their separate ways and a kind of cultural counter-revolution if I am not incorrectly using that over-worked word set in. A counter-revolution that we are to this day fighting a rearguard action against. At that time though Ralph and I who had been so busy doing the day to day political stuff that we both agreed we had kind of lost the thread of what we were doing, except we knew we were spinning our wheels against the monster using the old strategies and tactics. So we, me first since I was living in a commune in Cambridge, started studying old time texts about early left-wing movements in American history and their international connections  (and my getting back into the swing of the workaday world for me then with the very small print shop I had set up and let an old friend from Carver, Jack Callahan, manage in my absence) and ran into lots of people, mainly radicals, who were also trying to figure out where we had gone wrong, what had worked and not worked and which was the way forward. So in the summer of 1972 I invited Ralph to join me and we joined a study group led by one of the many “red collectives” that were sprouting up at the time to try to figure things out.            

What we learned in that group and I think probably held our interests and anchored or studies for the rest of our lives was a better appreciation of the long haul of the struggle against imperialism, against militarism, against racial, gender and class biases which have held us together in the rather barren period since those heady 1960, 1970 days. After the high tide ebbed about 1975, 76, we continued as best we could to support what we could while raising families and building up our small businesses (Ralph eventually after some hard fights finally made a “truce” with his father and wound up taking over that electrical business of his when his father retires.).   

One area that we were always willing to lend a hand was anytime the question of political prisoner defense work came up, especially around death penalty cases or attempts to put people away for political offenses. Along the way we helped defend guys like the Angola Three (now down to Albert Woodfox), a lot of ex-Panthers in trouble for one thing or another like Mumia Abu Jamal, Leonard Peltier of the Native American movement, the remnants of the Weather Underground, the Ohio Seven, Assata Shakur, and more recently, especially Ralph, Chelsea Manning.

Along the way we worked with lots of defense groups like the National Jericho Movement and the group I am writing this piece for, the Partisan Defense Committee. The latter because they have declared themselves to be working in the tradition of James P. Cannon and the old International Labor Defense organization that the American Communist Party established to work on political prisoner cases. They, as far as we can see, have generally held to that standard.  So even when things were slow, or we were on the defensive in some social struggle Ralph and I would always heed the PDCs annual appeal to donate money for the good old cause. I wrote a letter one time giving my reasons for doing so and rather than write something new will finish up here with an updated version of that letter:   

 

 

I like to think of myself as a long-time fervent supporter of the Partisan Defense Committee, an organization committed to social and political defense cases and causes in the interests of the international working class. Cases from early on in the 1970s when the organization was founded and the committee defended the Black Panthers who were being targeted by every police agency that had an say in the matter, the almost abandoned by the left Weather Underground (in its various incantations) and Chilean miners in the wake of the Pinochet coup there in 1973 up to more recent times with the Mumia death penalty case, defense of the Occupy movement and the NATO three, and defense of the heroic Wiki-leaks whistle-blower Chelsea Manning [formerly Bradley].

Moreover the PDC is an organization committed, at this time of the year, to raising funds to support the class-war prisoners’ stipend program through the annual Holiday Appeal drive. Unfortunately having to raise these funds in support of political prisoners for many years now, too many years, as the American and international capitalist class and their hangers-on have declared relentless war, recently a very one-sided war, against those who would cry out against the monster. Attempting to silence voices from zealous lawyers like Lynne Stewart, articulate death-row prisoners like Mumia and the late Tookie Williams, anti-fascist street fighters like the Tingsley Five to black liberation fighters like the Assata Shakur, the Omaha Three and the Angola Three and who ended up on the wrong side of a cop and state vendetta. Anti-imperialist fighters like the working-class based Ohio Seven and student-based Weather Underground who took Che Guevara’s admonition to wage battle inside the “belly of the beast” seriously. Others, other militant labor and social liberation fighters as well, too numerous to mention here but remembered.

Normally I do not need any prompting in the matter. This year though when I read the 25th Anniversary Appeal leaflet I was startled to note how many of the names, organizations, and political philosophies mentioned there hark back to my own radical coming of age, and the need for class-struggle defense of all our political prisoners in the late 1960s (although I may not have used that exact term at the time).

That recognition included names like black liberation fighter George Jackson’s present class-war prisoner Hugo Pinell’s San Quentin Six comrade; the Black Panthers in their better days, the days when the American state really was out to kill or detain every last supporter, and in the days when we needed, desperately needed, to fight for their defense in places from Oakland to New Haven,  as represented by two of the Omaha Three (Poindexter and wa Langa), in their younger days; the struggle, the fierce struggle, against the death penalty as represented in Mumia’s case today (also Black Panther-connected); the Ohio 7 and the Weather Underground who, rightly or wrongly, were committed to building a second front against American imperialism, and who most of the left, the respectable left, abandoned; and, of course, Leonard Peltier and the Native American struggles from Pine Ridge to the Southwest. It has been a long time and victories few. I could go on but you get the point.

That point also includes the hard fact that we have paid a high price, a very high price, for not winning back in the late 1960s and early 1970s when we last had this capitalist imperialist society on the ropes. Maybe it was political immaturity, maybe it was cranky theory, maybe it was elitism, hell, maybe it was just old-fashioned hubris but we let them off the hook. And have had to fight forty years of rear-guard “culture wars” since just to keep from falling further behind.

And the class-war prisoners, our class-war prisoners, have had to face their “justice” and their prisons. Many, too many for most of that time. That lesson should be etched in the memory of every pro-working class militant today. And this, as well, as a quick glance at the news these days should make every liberation fighter realize; the difference between being on one side of that prison wall and the other is a very close thing when the bourgeoisie decides to pull the hammer down. The support of class-war prisoners is thus not charity, as International Labor Defense founder James P. Cannon noted back in the 1920s, but a duty of those fighters outside the walls. Today I do my duty, and gladly. I urge others to do the same now at the holidays and throughout the year. The class-war prisoners must not stand alone. 

And this at another time when one of the Ohio Seven died in jail

*Free The Last of the Ohio Seven-They Must Not Die In Jail

COMMENTARY

ONE OF THE OHIO SEVEN -RICHARD WILLIAMS- RECENTLY DIED IN PRISON (2006). THAT LEAVES JAAN LAAMAN AND TOM MANNING STILL IN PRISON. IT IS AN URGENT DUTY FOR THE INTERNATIONAL LABOR MOVEMENT AND OTHERS TO RAISE THE CALL FOR THEIR FREEDOM. FREE ALL CLASS WAR PRISONERS.


Free the last of the Seven. Below is a commentary written in 2006 arguing for their freedom.

The Ohio Seven, like many other subjective revolutionaries, coming out of the turbulent anti-Vietnam War and anti-imperialist movements, were committed to social change. The different is that this organization included mainly working class militants, some of whose political consciousness was formed by participation as soldiers in the Vietnam War itself. Various members were convicted for carrying out robberies, apparently to raise money for their struggles, and bombings of imperialist targets. Without going into their particular personal and political biographies I note that these were the kind of subjective revolutionaries that must be recruited to a working class vanguard party if there ever is to be a chance of bringing off a socialist revolution. In the absence of a viable revolutionary labor party in the 1970’s and 1980’s the politics of the Ohio Seven, like the Black Panthers and the Weathermen, were borne of despair at the immensity of the task and also by desperation to do something concrete in aid of the Vietnamese Revolution and other Third World struggles . Their actions in trying to open up a second front militarily in the United States in aid of Third World struggles without a mass base proved to be mistaken but, as the Partisan Defense Committee which I support has noted, their actions were no crime in the eyes of the international working class.

The lack of a revolutionary vanguard to attract such working class elements away from adventurism is rendered even more tragic in the case of the Ohio Seven. Leon Trotsky, a leader with Lenin of the Russian Revolution of 1917, noted in a political obituary for his fallen comrade and fellow Left Oppositionist Kote Tsintadze that the West has not produced such fighters as Kote. Kote, who went through all the phases of struggle for the Russian Revolution, including imprisonment and exile under both the Czar and Stalin benefited from solidarity in a mass revolutionary vanguard party to sustain him through the hard times. What a revolutionary party could have done with the evident capacity and continuing commitment of subjective revolutionaries like the Ohio Seven poses that question point blank. This is the central problem and task of cadre development in the West in resolving the crisis of revolutionary leadership.

Finally, I would like to note that except for the Partisan Defense Committee and their own defense organizations – the Ohio 7 Defense Committee and the Jaan Laaman Defense Fund- the Ohio Seven have long ago been abandoned by those New Left elements and others, who as noted, at one time had very similar politics. At least part of this can be attributed to the rightward drift to liberal pacifist politics by many of them, but some must be attributed to class. Although the Ohio Seven were not our people- they are our people. All honor to them. As James P Cannon, a founding leader of the International Labor Defense, forerunner of the Partisan Defense Committee, pointed out long ago –Solidarity with class war prisoners is not charity- it is a duty. Their fight is our fight! LET US DO OUR DUTY HERE. RAISE THE CALL FOR THE FREEDOM OF LAAMAN AND MANNING. MAKE MOTIONS OF SOLIDARITY IN YOUR POLITICAL ORGANIZATION, SCHOOL OR UNION.


I Did It My Way-With Bob Dylan’s Shadows In The Night In Mind



 

 

 

 


Recently I did a review of Bob Dylan’s latest CD brought out in 2014, Shadows In The Night, a tribute to the king of Tin Pan Alley songwriter fest Frank Sinatra. In that review I noted that such an effort was bound to happen if Dylan lived long enough. Going back to the Great Depression/World War II period that our parents, we the baby-boomers parents slogged through for musical inspiration. Going back to something, some place that when were young and immortal, young and thinking that what we had created would last forever we would have, rightly, dismissed out of hand. And since Dylan has lived long enough, long enough to go back to some bygones roots  here we are talking about something that let us say in 1970 I would have dismissed as impossible, dismissed as the delusional ravings of somebody like my brother who hated almost everything about the counter-cultural movement of the 1960s, had been ready to spill blood it seemed to cut off the heads of anybody who wanted to breathe a new fresh breath not tinged with our parents’ worn out ways of doing business in civil society.

Strange as it may seem to a generation, the generation of ’68, today’s AARP generation, okay, baby-boomers who came of age with the clarion call put forth musically by Bob Dylan and others to dramatically break with the music of our parents’ pasts, the music that got them through the Great Depression and slogging through World War II, he has put out an album featuring the work of Mr. Frank Sinatra the king of that era in many our parents’ households. The music of the Broadway shows, Tin Pan Alley, Cole Porter/Irving Berlin/ the Gershwins/Jerome Kern, have I mssed anybody of important, probably, probably missed some of those Rogers and Hart Broadway show tunes teams, and so on. That proposition though, at least as it pertains to Bob Dylan as an individual, seems less strange if you are not totally mired in the Bob Dylan protest minute of the early 1960s when he, whether he wanted that designation or not, was the “voice of a generation,” catching the new breeze a lot of us felt coming through the land. (In the end he did not want it, did not want to be the voice of a generation, although he liked and wanted to be king of the hill in the music department of that generation, no question. Wanted too to be the king hell troubadour entertaining the world for as long as he drew breathe and he has accomplished that.)

What Dylan has been about for the greater part of his career has been as an entertainer, a guy who sings his songs to the crowd and hopes they share his feelings for his songs. As he is quoted as saying in a recent AARP magazine article connected with the release of his Frank Sinatra tribute what he hoped was that like Frank he sang to, not at, his audience. Just like Frank did when he was in high tide around the 1940s and 1950s. That sensibility is emphatically not what the folk protest music ethos was about but rather about stirring up the troops, stirring up the latter day Gideon’s army to go smite the dragon. Dylan early on came close, then drew back, and it is hard to think of anybody from our generation except maybe Joan Baez and Phil Ochs who wrote and sang to move people from point A to point B in the social struggles of the times.

What Dylan has also been about through it all has been a deep and abiding respect for the American songbook that he began to gather in his mind early on (look on YouTube to a clip from Don’t Look Back where he is up in some European hotel room with Joan Baez and Bob Neuwirth singing Hank Williams ballads or stuff from the Basement tapes where he runs the table on a few earlier genres). In the old days that was looking for roots, roots music from the mountains, the desolate oceans, the slave quarters, along the rivers and Dylan’s hero then was Woody Guthrie. But the American songbook is a “big tent” operation and the Tin Pan Alley that he broke from when he became his own songwriter is an important part of the overall tradition and now he has added his hero Frank Sinatra to his version of the songbook.

I may long for the old protest songs, the songs that stirred my blood to push on with the political struggles of the time like With God On Our Side which pushed me into the ranks of the Quakers, shakers, and little old ladies and men in tennis sneakers in the fight for nuclear disarmament, songs from the album pictured above, you know Blowin’ In The Wind which fit perfectly with the sense that something, something undefinable, something new as in the air in the early 1960s and The Times Are A Changin’ stuff like that, the roots music and not just Woody but Hank (including an incredible version of You Win Again, Tex-Mex (working later with George  Sahms of the Sir George Quintet, the Carters, the odd and unusual like the magic lyric play in Desolation Row, his cover of Charley Patton’s Highwater Rising or his cover of a song Lonnie Johnson made famous, Tomorrow Night, but Dylan has sought to entertain and there is room in his tent for the king of Tin Pan Alley (as Billie Holiday was the queen). Having heard Dylan live and in concert over the past several years with his grating lost voice (for me it was always about the lyrics not the voice although in looking at old tapes from the Newport Folk Festival on YouTube his voice was actually far better then than I would have given him credit for) I do wonder though how much production was needed to get the wrinkles out of that voice to sing as smoothly as the “Chairman of the boards,” to run the pauses and the hushed tones Frank knew how to do to keep his audience in his clutches. What goes around comes around.             

The Latest From The United National Anti-War Coalition (UNAC) Website- Immediate, Unconditional Withdrawal Of All U.S./Allied Troops, Mercenaries, Contractors, Etc. From Afghanistan! -Hands Off Syria! No New War In Iraq- Stop The Bombings-Stop The Arms Shipments To The Kurds And Shia-Stay Out Of The Civil War! No Intervention In Ukraine! Defend The Palestinians! No U.S. Aid To Israel! No One Penny, Not One Person For Obama’s War Machine!
 


Click below for link to the United National Anti-War Coalition (UNAC) website for more information about various anti-war, anti-imperialist, anti-capitalist actions around the country.


Markin comment: 
 
A while back, maybe last year as things seemed to be winding down in the Middle East, or at least the American presence was scheduled to decrease in places like Afghanistan and Iraq, and before  Ukraine, Syria, Gaza and a number of other flash points erupted I mentioned that every once in a while it is necessary, if for no other reason than to proclaim from the public square that we are alive, and fighting, to show “the colors,” our anti-war colors. I also mentioned at the time that while endless marches are not going to end any war the imperialists decide to provoke the street opposition to the war in what appeared then to be the fading American presence in Afghanistan or whatever else the Obama/Kerry cabal has lined up for the military to do in the Middle East, Ukraine or the China seas as well as protests against other imperialist adventures had been under the radar of late.

Over the summer there had been a small uptick in street protest over the Zionist massacre in Gaza (a situation now in “cease-fire” mode but who knows how long that will last) and the threat of yet a third American war in Iraq with the increasing bombing campaign and escalating troop levels now expanded to Syria. Although not nearly enough. As I mentioned at that earlier time it is time, way beyond time, for anti-warriors, even his liberal backers, to get back where we belong on the streets in the struggle against Nobel Peace Prize winner Obama’s seemingly endless wars. And his surreptitious “drone strategy” to "sanitize" war when he is not very publicly busy revving up the bombers and fighter jets in Iraq, Syria and wherever else he feels needs the soft touch of American “shock and awe, part two.”

The UNAC for a while now, particularly since the collapse of the mass peace movement that hit the streets for a few minutes before the second Iraq war in 2003, appears to be the umbrella clearing house these days for many anti-war, anti-drone, anti-imperialist and anti-capitalist actions. Not all the demands of this coalition are ones that I would raise, or support but the key ones of late are enough to take to the streets. More than enough to whet the appetite of even the most jaded anti-warrior.


And as we hit the fall anti-war trail:

As Obama, His House And Senate Allies, His “Coalition Of The Willing”    Beat The War Drums-Again- Stop The Escalations-No New U.S. War In Iraq- No Intervention In Syria! Immediate Withdrawal Of All U.S. Troops And Mercenaries!  Stop The U.S. And Allied Bombings! –Stop The Arms Shipments …

Frank Jackman comment:

As the Nobel Peace Prize Winner, U.S. President Barack Obama, abetted by the usual suspects in the House and Senate as well as internationally, orders more air bombing strikes in the north and in Syria,  sends more “advisers” to “protect” American outposts in Iraq, and sends arms shipments to the Kurds, supplies arms to the moderate Syrian opposition if it can be found to give weapons to, guys who served in the American military during the Vietnam War and who, like me, belatedly, got “religion” on the war issue as a kneejerk way to resolve the conflicts in this wicked old world might very well be excused for disbelief when the White House keeps pounding out the propaganda that these actions are limited when all signs point to the slippery slope of escalation. And all the time saying the familiar (Vietnam era familiar updated for the present)-“we seek no wider war”-meaning no American combat troops. Well if you start bombing places back to the Stone Age, cannot rely on the Iraqi troops who have already shown what they are made of and cannot rely on a now non-existent “Syrian Free Army” which you are willing to get whatever they want and will still come up short what do you think the next step will be? Now not every event in history gets exactly repeated but given the recent United States Government’s history in Iraq those old time vets might be on to something. In any case dust off the old banners, placards, and buttons and get your voices in shape- just in case. No New War In Iraq –Stop The Bombings- No Intervention In Syria! 
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Here is something to think about:  

Workers and the oppressed have no interest in a victory by one combatant or the other in the reactionary Sunni-Shi’ite civil war. However, the international working class definitely has a side in opposing imperialist intervention in Iraq and demanding the immediate withdrawal of all U.S. troops and mercenaries. It is U.S. imperialism that constitutes the greatest danger to the world’s working people and downtrodden. 
 
Immediate, Unconditional Withdrawal Of All U.S./Allied Troops, Mercenaries, Contractors, Etc. From Afghanistan! Hands Off Syria! No New War In Iraq- Stop The Bombings-Stop The Arms Shipments To The Kurds And Shia-Stay Out Of The Civil War! No Intervention In Ukraine! Defend The Palestinians! No U.S. Aid To Israel! Not One Penny, Not One Person For Obama’s War Machine!

BostonUNAC.org | 781-285-8622 | BostonUNAC(S)gmail.com
   
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The Struggle For Justice In Boston-Black Lives Matter 




Wednesday, June 17, 2015


As The 100th Anniversary Of The First Year Of World War I (Remember The War To End All Wars) Continues ... Some Remembrances-The Culturati’s Corner

In say 1912, 1913, hell, even the beginning of 1914, the first few months anyway, before the war clouds got a full head of steam in the summer they all profusely professed their unmitigated horror at the thought of war, thought of the old way of doing business in the world. Yes the artists of every school the Cubist/Fauvists/Futurists/Constructivists, Surrealists or those who would come to speak for those movements (hell even the hide-bound Academy filled with its rules, or be damned, spoke the pious words of peace, brotherhood and the affinity of all humankind when there was sunny weather), those who saw the disjointedness of modern industrial society in its squalor, it creation of generations of short, nasty, brutish lives just like the philosophers predicted and put the pieces to paint, sculptors who put twisted pieces of metal juxtaposed to each other saw that building a mighty machine from which you had to run created many problems; writers of serious history books proving that, according to their Whiggish theory of progress,  humankind had moved beyond war as an instrument of policy and the diplomats and high and mighty would put the brakes on in time, not realizing that they were all squabbling cousins; writers of serious and not so serious novels drenched in platitudes and hidden gazebo love affairs put paid to that notion in their sweet nothing words that man and woman had too much to do, too much sex to harness to denigrate themselves by crying the warrior’s cry and by having half-virgin, neat trick, maidens strewing flowers on the bloodlust streets; musicians whose muse spoke of delicate tempos and sweet muted violin concertos, not the stress and strife of the tattoos of war marches with their tinny conceits; and poets, ah, those constricted poets who bleed the moon of its amber swearing, swearing on a stack of seven sealed bibles, that they would go to the hells before touching the hair of another man, putting another man to ground or laying their own heads down for some imperial mission.

They all professed loudly (and those few who did not profess, could not profess because they were happily getting their blood rising, kept their own consul until the summer), that come the war drums they would resist the siren call, would stick to their Whiggish, Futurist, Constructionist, Cubist worlds and blast the war-makers to hell in quotes, words, chords, clanged metal, and pretty pastels. They would stay the course. 

And then the war drums intensified, the people, their clients, patrons and buyers, cried out their lusts and they, they made of ordinary human clay as it turned out, poets, beautiful poets like Wilfred Owens who would sicken of war before he passed leaving a beautiful damnation on war, its psychoses, and broken bones and dreams, and the idiots who brought humankind to such a fate, like e. e. cummings who drove through sheer hell in those rickety ambulances floors sprayed with blood, man blood, angers, anguishes and more sets of broken bones, and broken dreams, like Rupert Brooke all manly and old school give and go, as they marched in formation leaving the ports and then mowed down like freshly mown grass in their thousands as the charge call came and they rested, a lot of them, in those freshly mown grasses, like Robert Graves all grave all sputtering in his words confused about what had happened, suppressing, always suppressing that instinct to cry out against the hatred night, like old school, old Thomas Hardy writing beautiful old English pastoral sentiments before the war and then full-blown into imperium’s service, no questions asked old England right or wrong, like old stuffed shirt himself T.S. Eliot speaking of hollow loves, hollow men, wastelands, and such in the high club rooms on the home front, and like old brother Yeats speaking of terrible beauties born in the colonies and maybe at the home front too as long as Eliot does not miss his high tea. Jesus what a blasted night that Great War time was.  

And as the war drums intensified, the people, their clients, patrons and buyers, cried out their lusts and they, they made of ordinary human clay as it turned out, artists, beautiful artists like Fernand Leger who could no longer push the envelope of representative art because it had been twisted by the rubble of war, by the crashing big guns, by the hubris of commanders and commanded and he turned to new form, tubes, cubes, prisms, anything but battered humankind in its every rusts and lusts, all bright and intersecting once he got the mustard gas out of his system, once he had done his patria duty, like speaking of mustard gas old worn out John Singer Sargent of the three name WASPs forgetting Boston Brahmin society ladies in decollage, forgetting ancient world religious murals hanging atop Boston museum and spewing trench warfare and the blind leading the blind out of no man’s land, out of the devil’s claws, like Umberto Boccioni, all swirls, curves, dashes, and dangling guns as the endless charges endlessly charge, like Gustav Klimt and his endlessly detailed gold dust opulent Asiatic dreams filled with lovely matrons and high symbolism and blessed Eve women to fill the night, Adam’s night after they fled the garden, like Joan Miro and his infernal boxes, circles, spats, eyes, dibs, dabs, vaginas, and blots forever suspended in deep space for a candid world to fret through, fret through a long career, and like poor maddened rising like a phoenix in the Spartacist uprising George Grosz puncturing the nasty bourgeoisie, the big bourgeoisie the ones with the real dough and their overfed dreams stuffed with sausage, and from the bloated military and their fat-assed generals stuff with howitzers and rocket shells, like Picasso, yeah, Picasso taking the shape out of recognized human existence and reconfiguring the forms, the mesh of form to fit the new hard order, like, Braque, if only because if you put the yolk on Picasso you have to tie him to the tether too.          

And do not forget when the war drums intensified, and the people, their clients, patrons and buyers, cried out their lusts and they, they, other creative souls made of ordinary human clay as it turned out sculptors, writers, serious and not, musicians went to the trenches to die deathless deaths in their thousands for, well, for humankind, of course, their always fate ….