helenaworthen

An American woman of the Viet Nam War generation goes to Viet Nam 40 years later to teach and learn

Did you know you can’t actually just join the Democratic Party? — February 15, 2017

Did you know you can’t actually just join the Democratic Party?

b-city-hallThis is the old Berkeley City Hall. The new main offices are about a block away. About 20 years ago, Joe and I got married on the grass among the redwood trees to the left of the picture. It was not raining at the time.

Did you know you can’t just join the Democratic Party? I didn’t either. And so don’t a whole lot of other people.

I was at a house meeting hosted by a neighbor the other night.  These are going on all over the US, hundreds and thousands of these meetings in what is reportedly the greatest upsurge of civil society activity in recent memory.  At this meeting people went round-robin listing the different organizations they were supporting, participating in, or organizing, and also events like demonstrations or sit-ins that they had gone to. The list was long. It ranged from church groups to lawyers’ groups to street demos to this group called the InDivisibles or the OurRevolution groups left over from Bernie’s campaign.

No one, however, mentioned being involved with the Democratic Party. This was kind of stunning. We speculated why and realized that as a group, we didn’t know how. But it was the Democratic Party that pushed Hilary Clinton forward despite Bernie’s grassroots support, the Democratic Party that hired the staffers who refused to give Bernie access to the Party contact list, the Democratic Party machine that ran picked who would be on the platform committee (and denied Roseann Demoro from CNA, the Nurse’s Union), the Democratic Party that choreographed the Convention, locking out Bernie delegates (people who were there are still talking about this). So this is an organization that has the power to do good or evil, let’s say.

But how do you get involved in the Democratic Party? The people at this meeting were mostly 40-ish young professionals, some retired professors — educated people. You would think they would know. But no one did. No one could even explain how the structure worked, where the entry points might be found.

(It turned out later that one woman actually did know and had gone to a meeting to elect delegates to the state committee. More about that later.)

Some of us knew about Democratic clubs, such as the Wellstone Club, but someone else explained that those are not the same as the Democratic Party. These clubs actually have to get a charter from the Party to use the word “Democratic.” You can be a member of a Democratic Club but still not “belong” — in the sense of being a member who has a vote — to the Democratic Party.  Seriously?

I had just read Robert Reich’s Seven Hard Truths blog article, in which he said that the Democratic Party is just a shell, on life support,and has to change from being a giant fundraising machine to being a movement, or throw in the towel.

http://www.salon.com/2017/01/22/robert-reich-7-hard-truths-democrats-must-acknowledge-if-they-want-a-better-future_partner/

It this group of people who were trying to become politically active had no idea how to engage with the Democratic Party, life support is putting it mildly.

So how do you join the Democratic Party?

I get probably three emails a day from something that seems to come from the DNC, presumably the Democratic National Committee, but while they urge me to support something, they have a button that says “DONATE” and no button that says “JOIN.”

But the day after that meeting someone from that group forwarded an email inviting people to a fundraiser for a woman named Kimberly Ellis who is running for Chair of the California Democratic Party Central Committee. The fundraiser was going to be held in the home of Sophie Hahn, the newly elected District Five Berkeley City Council Member, who lives just two blocks away. I figured it was time for me to go to that meeting and find out something.

The crowd at this event was mostly people 40 and up, well-dressed, white, drinking wine and nibbling on carrot sticks; lots of women. The person who is running for leadership of the CDP Central Committee is a handsome Black woman with short hair, dressed in black tights, boots and a nice jacket. Her speech would have been appropriate for the Women’s March — about how the Democratic Party has to change, catch up with the people, get new leadership especially with women, etc. It was a very “soft” speech in the sense that it would offend no one. Then she took questions.  Much to my satisfaction, all the first questions were about what the Party does and how it does it. The woman next to me and I had already checked each other out on this issue — she didn’t know either! How do you join the Party? How does it work?  If there is an election for Chair coming up, when is that election happening? Who gets to vote? Why don’t we hear anything about it? And who is she running against? So this group of people, who know enough about local Berkeley politics to get invited to a fundraiser, don’t know how the Party works, either.

I realized that I recognized one of the organizers of the event, a woman who has become the Comptroller of the Party. Her name is Hilary Crosby and she married an old friend of mine from college.They were both politically active at the time.  I remember that she had become an accountant, which seemed to me at the time to be a phenomenally practical thing to do with your life. Hilary answered some of the first questions, and what I write below is a mix of what she said and what I have found on line.

One of the later questions asked about the field — who else was running?  It was only then that I began to get a sense of the candidate. She answered with apparent reluctance. First, she said clearly that she was not “running against” anyone — she is running for California and the Democratic Party. She declined to name her opponent, in fact. But she then described what happened after she announced her campaign. She went to Los Angeles (“Got up at 6, took a plane, went to have lunch with them”) to pay her respects (“due diligence”) to two women who are very powerful in California Democratic Party politics; older women, Black, but again, no names.  She said that the first thing she was told when she sat down to lunch was that if she persisted in her campaign her political career would be destroyed and she would never be able to run for anything else ever again. “At that very moment,” she said, “I knew for sure I was going to run, because this is what I am running against.”

Her opponent is a (presumably white) man whose position as Chair of the Party has been glued in place for many years — whether he is the current Chair or just the Heir Apparent I couldn’t tell, but clearly, the idea of a contested election was not something anyone was planning on.

OK. I walked home in the rain.

So here is what I can figure out about the structure of the Democratic Party.  

There are over 7.5 million people registered as Democrats in California. The body that determines what the Party does is the Democratic State Central Committee (DSCC) that consists of 2900 members. These 2900 people come from three sources:

1. Counties: California has 52 counties. Each county has a County Committee. These committees function as voter registration, education and campaign organizations. Each County Committee gets 4 positions on the DSCC, plus one more for every 10,000 voters in that county who are registered Democrats. So a county with a 400,000 people in it would have 44 positions on the DSCC.  Names of Chairs of these county committees are listed on the website with phone numbers. You can volunteer to work on campaigns by calling those  numbers. This is how you probably get known, to begin with. As far as I can see, people who want to work in the Party get started by volunteering for these organizations. Then if you’re good, or do the right thing, or produce some money, you get noticed and picked up by someone.

2. Assembly Districts: California has 80 Assembly Districts. Every two years (odd-numbered years) there are January caucuses in the Assembly Districts where you can vote for delegates to the DSCC.  These caucuses elect 7 men and 7 women (that’s good!). This produces 1, 12o delegates. Our neighbor, whom I mentioned about, forwarded me the message that alerted her that this caucus was to take place on January 7. The message came from Bernie Sanders:

Vote for California’s Future Slate at the CA Democratic Party Delegate Elections!

Come out and vote for California’s Future to represent Assembly District 15 at the California Democratic Party State Central Committee!

What: Vote for California’s Future Slate for delegates to the Democratic Party from Assembly District 15. 

Where: Albany Community Center, 1249 Marin Ave 

When: Saturday, January 7th, 12 – 2pm (speeches start at 11:30am)

What do I need to bring: my ID and $5 to register to vote (hardship waiver is available) 

Our slate needs hundreds of people to show up between 12-  2pm on Saturday, January 7th at the Albany Community Center to vote for our slate to represent AD 15 to the California Democratic Party. In order to vote, you must be a registered Democrat as of October 24th, 2016 and live in Assembly District 15, which covers the East Bay from North Oakland to Hercules. California’s Future Slate is endorsed by Assemblymember Tony Thurmond, State Senator Nancy Skinner, and the Wellstone Democratic Club Coordinating Committee. 

I wonder how you get onto one of those slates?

3. And finally, elected officials — like Governor Brown, Lieutenant Governor Newsome, and the various legislators in both houses (both houses are dominated by Democrats and all state agencies are led by appointed Democrats) – who are just people who ran for office with the support of the Democratic Party. They are  not the same as the  Party Leaders. The Party Chair (who must be the guy that Kimblerly Ellis was talking about) is named John Burton, and he is indeed an old white guy.

So this is how you get to be among the 2,900 people who run the Democratic Party in California. Regular people who are just registered Democrats apparently can participate in choosing these people by voting for one slate or another at the January Assembly caucuses, in this case, a slate endorsed by well-known local politicos and the Wellstone Club – and Bernie!

So if you are one of the 2,900, does that make you a member of the Party?

No. Instead, I think you are a member of the Democratic State Central Committee. Maybe there aren’t actually any members.

What does the DSCC do? It meets once a year. It endorses candidates and drafts the platform.  It has a 320-person Executive Committee which meets twice a year.The Executive Committee members are chosen on the basis of what positions they hold (they are not elected).  In turn the Executive Committee elects 19 people to send to the Democratic National Committee in Washington.

So the only point at which you can walk in off the street and vote is the January Assembly caucuses, where all you have to do is be a registered Democrat, show an ID, and pay $5. Every other point at which authority and responsibility gets channeled (where 320 people make decisions for 2,900 people, for example) is a point at which you get chosen, not elected- except for the top 19 people who go to Washington.

There is a lot more democracy at the ballot box than in the Party, apparently. The Party will want to run people who can win. They have to balance that against which candidate will keep the machine running. Hilary was the machine candidate. So this is the process that gave us Hilary instead of Bernie, and then gave us Trump. This and the Russians, it’s turning out!

Direct Democracy?

The chances that an average person is going to be active in the Democratic Party were probably accurately reflected in the experience of the people in that meeting that I mentioned earlier, where no one even know how to become active in it.

The experience of democratic process that I have had all comes from being in unions. In the National Writers Union, part of the United Auto Workers,  chapter members voted for local Executive Board members and Union President, and for delegates to the Delegates Assembly.  This was also my experience in the California Federation of Teachers, where again there was voting for local Executive Board and local Union President, and then also voting on who would go to the annual Convention. Once at the convention there would be direct voting on the floor. I remember the excitement of a tense question, where first there would be a voice vote, and you couldn’t tell who won, and then someone would call for a “separation of the house” in order to eyeball the difference and that wouldn’t work, so then you’d have to do a roll call and officers would walk up and down the aisles while we’d stand there, hands in the air or down at our sides, as the case may be. And then the different officers would call in their counts and they’d get put up on the board, or at least jotted down by the chair, and then the winner would be announced.

Winning, in a situation like this, is really thrilling. It is especially thrilling if the issue is a tough one and the vote is prefaced by days (or maybe weeks, before the Convention) of debate and discussion. I will never forget a Delegates Assembly in the NWU where we arrived for the 3-day meeting and found that most of the other delegates didn’t understand the issue and were taking the President’s claims as fact. The issue was a  constitutional matter: whether the Oversight Committee, to which appeals about elections were referred, had the authority to overturn an election. Debates went on day and night; as the days passed, you could see that the discussions were having an effect, and finally, when the last vote was taken, we won. That was a thrilling combination of persistent discussion and debate, during which several hundred people shifted from one side of the issue to another.

Whether the outcome was correct or even good is another story. There were a lot of other things going on that were affecting the NWU at that time that I wasn’t aware; primarily, the changes in technology that was soon to completely transform the publishing industry.

The path up from the bus stop, and down toward the bus stop, in the rain. It has been raining and raining and raining this winter. Example of infrastructure in need of attention: Oroville Dam, which has overflowed into the emergency spillway, causing 200,000 people to flee the villages in the river valley below.

uphill

downhil

Late January 2017 — January 24, 2017

Late January 2017

The Women’s March

air-dancers

 

These women climbed out of windows up on the top (8th or 9th) floor of Oakland City Hall and descended via ropes, dancing to beautiful music sung by someone I couldn’t see. They  used gravity as a positive force that let them bounce gently out from the vertical wall and perform flips and somersaults and make pyramids as they slowly descended. The crowd was simply awed.

This was part of the rally at the end of the Saturday, January 21 Women’s March. Joe and I had front row seats on the Plaza because I’m still walking with sticks, and they had a special entrance for the disabled.

march-by-lake

We joined the march at about this point, near Lake Merritt. It had been raining for the last week so the sun was welcome. The mood was gentle but serious. Many, many of the people were young women. Some were with mothers and grandmothers. There were men, too, of course, but it felt like a women’s march. All the signs I saw were home made. I heard that nowhere in any of the 600 plus marches across the US was there any violence — no violence at all.

And somehow I had thought that young women had no idea what the women’s movement had achieved. Trump has certainly created a teaching moment — now they know, if they didn’t before.

This was the sign that Joe and I wore. We cut them out of a curtain and pinned them back and front. “Life is not a rich man’s sick joke.”

joes-sign

After the march, which was huge (60,000 plus) I felt better. Lots of people said that watching Trump get inaugurated felt like knife stabbing in the gut. Like something you’re ashamed to even look at. Watching him try to dance (it’s available on YouTube) at the ball that Friday night was equally heartsickening. A President should not be disgusting to look at. A president should have some grace and dignity. (Look up Barack and Michelle dancing, in 2008, also on YouTube). The cab driver who took us back from the march, a Chinese man, was railing at Trump for making grotesque thumbs-up “Hey lookit me!” gestures to the crowd while dancing.

But before Obama finished, he had pardoned Chelsea Manning and the Puerto Rican independence leader (I’ll get his name). That made me weep with relief. Why not Leonard Peltier?

A look back at Trumps’ first press conference, January 11; before he was inaugurated

The networks couldn’t say no to broadcasting Trump pre-election appearances because they were chasing ratings. He was a celebrity. It was money. People would tune in to be astonished. TV show hosts had to jolly him for the same reason. Even now he’s apparently collecting a $168,000 a year pension from his work as a celebrity, in fact.

But now he goes on TV and it’s not a reality show, it’s a White House Press Conference. Some reviews of his press conference on January 10 called it “rough.” I watched segments of it on various websites. It was an appalling performance of bluster, name-calling, evasion and bullying.

The National Memo, which is a cover-your-ass pseudo-liberal but really right wing channel, excerpted Trump’s interaction with a reporter, Jim Acosta, from CNN. I tried to write down the actual words as they were spoken.

Jim Acosta, who was sitting in the front row center, asked Trump about an early morning tweet in which Trump said the release of certain information by US intelligence agencies was something that would have happened in Nazi Germany.

CNN: ….what were you driving at?

 T: I think it was disgraceful, disgraceful, that the intelligence agencies allowed any information that turned out to be so false and fake, out, think it’s a disgrace. I say that. I say that, it was something Nazi Germany would have done and did do. I think it’s a disgrace. That information that was false and fake and never happened got released to the public – as far as Buzzfeed – which is a failing pile of garbage – writing it? I think they’re going to suffer the consequences, they already are – and as far as CNN going out of their way to build it up and by the way, we just found out, I was coming down – Michael Cohen he’s a very talented good lawyer in my firm, it was just reported that it wasn’t this Michael Cohen, so all night long, it’s Michael Cohen, Michael Cohen, I say I want to see your passport, he brings his passport to my office, I say hey, wait a minute, he didn’t leave the country, he wasn’t out of the country, they had, “Michael Cohen of the Trump Organization was in Prague.” It turned out to be a different Michael Cohen, it’s a disgrace what took place, it’s a disgrace, and I think they ought to apologize to start with Michael Cohen.

CNN: Since you’re attacking us, can you give us a question –

T: No, go ahead, (pointing at Breitbart reporter) no, not you (waving off the CNN reporter)

 CNN: Can you give us a question?

T: Go ahead, she’s asking a question, don’t be rude.

 CNN: Since you’re attacking our news organization. Mr. President Elect, can you give us a chance to ask a question – (other reporters start applauding)

T: No no, not you, your organization’s’ terrible –

 CNN: Since you’re attacking us, can you give us a question –

 T: No

CNN: Mr. President elect, can you give us a question

T: Don’t be rude. Don’t. Be Rude. No, I’m not going to give you a question. You are fake too.

More scattered applause.

 CNN: Can you state categorically that nobody –

 T: No, no –

 CNN: Mr. President elect, that’s not appropriate –

 T: Quiet, quiet – don’t be rude, don’t-be-rude- I’m not going to give you a question –

 CNN and Trump are going back and forth like badminton shuttlecocks, speaking over each other, and reporters in the room are applauding lightly, nervously, in support of CNN. Acosta is holding on, pushing Trump to see how far he will go. When he makes his point, he stops.

It’s hard to actually write down how this goes. Trump doesn’t speak in sentences. He huffs in one-liners, phrases, expletives (“terrible, disgusting, fake”). He likes to mimic other people’s voices (as Meryl Street pointed out). Anecdotes are his one rhetorical form — he knows where he’s going if it’s a 3 or 4 sentence story. Expository language, stuff that explains something – like, who is Michael Cohen?  — is not his way. He talks like an old yenta with a breathing problem, haranguing gossip about family.

Rough? Ragged. This was not a press conference. This was a display of personality. How long will these displays of personality last? As reality TV, people kept tuning in. But as our president? The press corps seems to have understood that this was not going to be a press conference. They pushed him toward the display of personality, to get it over with and warn us what we can expect.

I’ll bet that the deep staters could care less what Trump does as long as they can move their pieces into place. Six hearings are going on at once on Capitol Hill right now. I always thought that the main thing the Republicans wanted was stability, so that capitalism could grind along accumulating capital. How are they going to make a Trump presidency stable? I guess that by keeping him in the foreground they can swamp the media so that we don’t notice what they’re doing in the real world (not on reality TV). Then they’ll stand back and let an impeachment process go forward. They’ll sacrifice him and let Pence, who is a serious politician and, according to many people, much more dangerous, take over. Trump is dangerous because he’s a loose cannon with bad ideas. Pence is a serious guy.

The Future of the Media

Either they’ll cave, get wiped out (like in Russia) or they’ll do their job.

Buzzfeed, apparently has made $25,000 selling online swag such as plastic garbage cans labeled “failing pile of garbage” and has donated the money to the Committee for the Protection of Journalists. Meryl Streep urged us to support that organization.

City College Wins: The Long Haul

San Francisco City College received its full accreditation for the next 7 years. This is a total win. Telling the story of how we did this would be a good way to answer the question people always ask us, “How are unions doing these days?” It’s a long story. It’s a story that involves every level of government from the college up through the city and the state and into the federal Department of Education. It involves hundreds of people, to say nothing of the thousands who were students and who participated in demonstrations. It is the story of millions of dollars getting thrown around. The story of the role of the union in this victory would be a good story to tell in order to explain to someone why unions are critical players in anything that holds back the rush of money into the top 1%. We started to tell this story to Emmy and Brian, who dropped by last night with Anna and Rosie and some other friends while out for a walk. Emmy suggested trying to get people to collaborate on a book about this struggle. That would make a huge job less formidable. But as Joe says, “Another book project!!!”

Joe has joined Democratic Socialists of America and went to a meeting where they elected local leadership. He said it was a very good meeting, lots of young people; still not diverse enough, however. Maybe I’l join, too.

Finally: Why “labor” doesn’t count

Trump plays the building trades. There’s an old joke: These are the guys who would be happy to build crematoria.

http://www.lawyersgunsmoneyblog.com/2017/01/building-trades-allow-themselves-to-be-played-like-fools

January 2017 Winter Storms — January 11, 2017

January 2017 Winter Storms

solano-rally-music 

One afternoon a few weeks ago,  I joined in with a small demonstration that has been held on Monday afternoons at the top of Solano Avenue. Our friend Harry Brill has been the organizer. That’s Harry, beside me. Behind us are members of the Occupella singing group. It’s called the “Tax the Rich” demonstration. It has some persistence: nearly 5 years now, I believe. Mostly retired professors and teachers. Turns out, according to my surgeon, I shouldn’t have been out walking so much, so that was an anomaly. Since then I’ve not gone on so many walks. It’s more important to do my exercises than try to walk distances.

My knees get better all the time, but it is really slow. Apparently the pain should be pretty much gone at the end of 3 months, or 6, depending on whom you talk to; the healing really takes a year (now they tell me). The body experiences this kind of surgery like a serious car accident. I mainly do my exercises and read. California is enjoying a big storm, two weeks of steady rain, some strong winds. We joke that it’s like Seattle.

What I Am Reading

I didn’t want to read anything long until 4 weeks after the surgery, which took place on November 22, the day Kennedy was assassinated. Up until then, it was mostly The London Review of Books, etc.

But now, early January, I have a longer attention span. Here are some of the books spread out on chairs, floor, sofas and coffee table in the living room.

I will divide them into three kinds. First, books about Viet Nam written by Vietnamese-American authors. Second, books by Svetlana Alexeivitch, who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2015. Third, books I read or listen to as audio books, to relax.

Books by Vietnamese-American Authors

 These books give me views of Viet Nam from the perspective of Viet-Kieu, or “overseas Vietnamese.” They in turn help me understand the perspective of Vietnamese we met in Viet Nam who were from South Vietnamese families that had worked for the French or the Americans, or who had come to South Vietnam from the North after 1956 (Catholics, but not only Catholics – Nationalists were among these); they illuminate the attitudes of people who, for whatever other reason, did not flee or escape to the US.

If I think of a triangle with someone at each point, one point would be us, US citizens from the anti-war generation, remembering the 1970s and visiting in 2015; a second point would be the Vietnamese we met there, born in 1995 or 2000, mostly three generations away from the war (noticeably absent are the voices of the Vietnamese generation that corresponds to ours; and the third point would be the ‘overseas” Vietnamese, the ones who made it over to the US after 1975. These books fill in some background on that third point. They help me understand the passionate hunger of young Vietnamese, including our students, to become “global people,” along with the push at TDTU to learn and speak English. I also feel I can better appreciate the moment when, last January, one of our Ton Duc Thang students, a girl with a beautiful voice, sang “Hello, Vietnam” to the Cornell students, one of whom was a Viet-Kieu. I remember the heart-struck expression on his face as he watched he and listened to her.

Nguyen, Viet Than. 2016. Nothing Ever Dies: Vietnam and the Memory of War. Harvard University Press. This book, which is a collection of essays or meditations, is better than his Pulitzer winning mystery/spy novel, The Sympathizer, but still not very good. See my blog entry on The Sympathizer from last winter. Nguyen is a Professor of English and American Studies and Ethnicity at USC. His writing feels like literary philosophizing. One chapter, On Becoming Human, is about going to the War Museum of Korea, in Seoul. He chooses to focus on the exhibit that depicts the role of the Korean military in Viet Nam. His critique has some edge; it would be a measure against which to compare at the War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Minh City. After reading Pham’s books, which are much tougher and stronger, I feel as if I understand why Nguyen seemed cautious when being interviewed about his Pulitzer, insisting, for example, that he was writing for the Vietnamese community, not for the general public.

Pham, Andrew X. 2008. The Eaves of Heaven: A Life in Three Wars. Harmony House (part of Crown Books). This feels close to being a book you could trust to be a true story. It’s sufficiently full of accidents, contradictions, and choices made under conditions of insufficient information, so that I didn’t feel as if I am being pandered to. It’s the story of Pham’s father who grew up in the North, in a wealthy Nationalist family; was re-grouped to the South in 1955-56, got drafted into the South Vietnamese army, witnessed every kind of heroism and corruption, kindness and cruelty, spent time in a re-education/labor camp and then escaped in a boat with his family to America. This book was not available for sale on museum bookshelves in Viet Nam.

Pham, Andrew X. 1999. Catfish and Mandala: A Two-Wheeled Voyage through the landscape and memory of Viet Nam. Picador Press: Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Much of this overlaps with The Eaves of Heaven, but it’s a rougher, more brutal book. The story of the father is woven together with the story of Pham who, as a young man who has grown up in San Jose, California, decides to ride his bike north from San Francisco, down Japan, and through Viet Nam. With enough detail to make it seem as if he’s working from the daily notes in a journal, he takes us from Saigon to Hanoi, through the various towns that he knew as a child – Vang Tau, Phan Thiet where he was born, Nha Trang Hoi An, and others. It’s both a bike-riding adventure and a young man’s search for identity story, and it’s powerful and good in both ways. He’s writing about Viet Nam in about 1996, just after the embargo has been lifted but before the opening of the economy to market capitalism had really taken hold. He describes poverty that is much worse than what Joe and I saw last year. The question of how the war has dropped a knife between him, his family, young men of his age group –whether Vietnamese or not – and older Vietnamese rises behind every encounter, whether it’s with corrupt police, girls selling themselves as prostitutes, other European travellers. He goes into great detail about what he eats, where he sleeps, how his stomach handles or doesn’t handle the food and water. Despite being a personal history and a bike riding adventure, two genres that don’t usually build into a revelation, this does.

Some stories only get a chapter or a bit more: one example of a story that looms larger than what he tells us is a quick view of a monster Colonel, father of one of Pham’s girlfriends, a bully who wants to rouse the Vietnamese peasantry into  revolt – and who seems to have shown up again in Nguyen’s Pulitzer-winning book. Another powerful, necessarily incomplete story is that of his older sister, Chi, who runs away into the streets as a teenager and becomes a man named Minh.

Lam, Andrew. 2010 East Eats West: Writing in Two Hemispheres. Heyday Press. Back in the 1980’s I was teaching English at what is now Berkeley City College. People could take classes there that would count toward a more expensive degree at UCB, just up the street, so many students were getting rid of their requirements at BCC.   One of my students was a young Vietnamese man who wrote a memoir essay that was at least in part about his grandfather’s home in Viet Nam – verandas overlooking rice paddies, the graves of ancestors in the fields. I remember telling him how good it was, and then as months and hears went by, seeing his name in different places – the Nation magazine, for example, and on NPR. Years passed. Now I’m reading a lot about Viet Nam and I get a lot of books out of the library. I open this one, thinking, “I’ll bet this is that kid I had in class thirty years ago.” So I open up a chapter in this book and there he is, saying, “After reading one of my short stories, Helen, my first creative writing teacher, decided that I was to be a writer.” This is on page 39. When I read this, I shouted out loud and passed the book over to Joe.

I have another book by Andrew Lam: Perfume Dreams. Short essays, very well written, about what it is like to be Vietnamese American. From what I can see, this book is a lot like East Eats West. I am glad I didn’t read these books before going to Viet Namhowever.

Svetlana Alexeivich, interviews

The second category of books helps me deal with the election of Donald Trump. These are two books by Svetlana Alexievitch. They are about another period of rapid, profound transition, the fall of the Soviet Union in 1989. Nothing I was reading right after the election that was written for periodicals seemed to go far enough into the real darkness unleashed by the Trump election; it was as if they were written fast, to fill pages that were unexpectedly left blank. They revealed that no one – at least no one who writes for the things I read – really believed Trump would win. But Alexievich really goes there.

Alexeivitch, Svetlana. 2016. Secondhand Time: The Last of the Soviets, an Oral History. Random House. These are interviews with people who lived during the Soviet and post-Soviet periods, done between 1991 and 2012 to capture the experience of a whole nation that was taking itself apart piece by piece. This is better than typical Studs Terkel interview collections. They are arranged and edited with a stronger hand (you don’t get the feeling that she’s just typing up a tape recording). I can’t think of anything comparable, anywhere. She does some long (60) page interviews and some chapters that are collections of brief excerpts from interviews. She’s got everyone from low-level Communist Party apparatchiks to guards at labor camps to professors to farmers. There are people who are doing well, making big money in the new economy, and people who are heartbroken at the loss of the society they thought they were building.

She won a Nobel Prize for Literature in 2015, but not for Secondhand Time.

Alexeivitch opens Secondhand Time with the following sentences (page 3):

Communism had an insane plan: to remake the “old breed of man,” ancient Adam. And it really worked…Perhaps it was communism’s only achievement. Seventy plus years in the Marxist-Leninist laboratory gave rise to a new man: homo sovieticus. Some see him as a tragic figure; others call him a sovok. I feel like I know this person…. We’re easy to spot! People who come out of socialism are both like and unlike the rest of humanity…

Homo sovieticus: a person who could be both the local union president and the HR manager of a company. Another reason I want to know what people watching the Soviet Union fall apart had to say  is because a curriculum like the one we were originally asked to use at Ton Duc Thang, that teaches students to be good at sport, love education, work hard, be more productive workers and join the union, is the kind of curriculum that would have been designed for that new socialist man, homo sovieticus. It’s not inconsistent with the fact that many of the older professors in universities we  visited had received their PhD’s in Russia.

Training students to become homo sovieticus would be fine if Viet Nam were still socialist, or if these students were not going to be working for FDI firms from Japan, South Korea, Australia, the US and elsewhere. But since our students are going to be working, mostly, in firms that compete in the context of global capitalism, we have to teach them why, if they are union leaders, they can’t also be human resource managers, or vice versa. We have to teach them to begin their understanding of industrial relations by assuming that there is class conflict. Homo Sovieticus would get smashed in contemporary US-style industrial situations. We have to teach them how to advocate for workers and fight to keep the share of the productivity that they deserve, and not assume that the employer has their best interests at heart, or that they are part of a big family that will take care of them, or that socialism will provide for them according to their needs if they contribute according to their abilities.

Another book: Alexeivitch, Svetlana. 2011. Voices from Chernobyl. This is the only book I’ve read in recent months that goes as far into the dark as our whole country has gone politically. This is really a book for the end of times. She puts great art into the editing and pacing of these over 100 interviews so the book has a cumulative rhythm and logic.

The landscape around Chernobyl sounds like western Connecticut; pretty, orchards, small mountains, valleys, little rivers flowing into a bigger river, rich fields full of vegetables, corn and potatoes. But the houses are empty. Chernobyl blew in 1986, under Gorbachev. Today, a lot of the poisoned houses are actually inhabited, by people fleeing the many other wars in Chechnya Tajikistan, Afghanistan. Why not? Everything looks as if it’s fine. Even some birds have come back.

An aside: The descriptions of re-occupied Chernobyl reminded me of Ursula LeGuin’s Always Coming Home, in which LeGuin describes a civilization that has started to reconstitute itself. One out of four children are born “sith,” or disabled in some way, and we assume it comes from a nuclear or toxic chemical disaster a few generations ago.

The New Socialist Man and the Harvard Russian Project

guide-for-interviewing

Alexeivich’s words about homo sovieticus, or socialist man, reminded me of a treasure trove of an archive that I stumbled upon twenty or thirty years ago when I was trying to figure out how the work of the Soviet psychologist, L.S. Vygotsky, came to the US. There was a relationship between my professor at Harvard, Jerome Bruner, and Vygotsky. Bruner had introduced the just-published first collection of Vygotsky’s work into his social relations class as part of general ongoing support of academic exchange across borders and cultures about psychology. I happened to take that class, back in 1961.

Bruner himself had been part of the Harvard Russian Project. This project was a response to the fact that, following WWII, thousands of Soviet academics and intellectuals were among the waves of refugees pouring into the West, mainly Germany, where they found housing in refugee camps as displaced persons. They came from all over, but mostly Belorussia, Ukraine, and Great Russia. This created the opportunity for a “natural experiment.” The capitalist west, looking ahead into the decades of the Cold War, needed to know if they were facing a different kind of person.

http://hcl.harvard.edu/collections/hpsss/index.html

The Harvard Russian Project asked if the changed economic and cultural relationships of socialism could have produced a different psychology that could actually be called “socialist man.” Over 700 people were interviewed. These interviews, along with supplementary materials, ended up in this archive that is now on line.

Another person to look is Raymond Bauer, who was part of that project and became a professor at Harvard Business School. His papers related to the Harvard refugee interview projects are at;

http://oasis.lib.harvard.edu/oasis/deliver/~bak00063.

I read a book of his many years ago, which I am trying to find now. His answer to the question, “Is there such a thing as the “new socialist man?” was yes. I am trying to find that book. What I can see online right now is a different book by him, from MIT Press: https://mitpress.mit.edu/books/nine-soviet-portraits. This book portrays nine Soviet role types which he says are “the crucial group to examine in order to appreciate the problems of social control in the Soviet Union.

http://hcl.harvard.edu/collections/hpsss/index.html

http://oasis.lib.harvard.edu/oasis/deliver/~bak00063.

 

Finally, books I am reading to relax

Ghodsee, Kristen. 2015 The Left Side of History: World War II and the Unfullfilled promise of communism in Eastern Europe. Duke University Press. This unusual book wraps together at least two stories (I’m about half way through). One is the story of EP Thomson’s brother, Frank, who was in the British military and as a Communist managed to get assignments that eventually brought him to travelling and fighting with a Communist partisan group in the mountains of Bulgaria, supposedly preparing the people to welcome the Russian Army when it showed up from the east (I also remember seeing a movie about this, where the Russians show up and everyone is happy until they start looting and raping). Letters from Thompson to Iris Murdoch (of all people) and others were in an archive that the author was able to get into; she also got into archives in Bulgaria where she found documents related to the partisan group that Thompson was connected to. One of the leaders of this group was a girl who was still alive when Ghodsee was doing her research, and many pages include transcripts of interviews with this woman, Elena Lagadinova. The book is much more concrete than the title suggests.

Mann, Thomas. 1924. The Magic Mountain. Vintage, translation Woods, 1995. Alyosha gave this to me to read while I recover. I read it once many years ago and seem to remember bailing mid-book. I think it is supposed to be funny. I think you are supposed to laugh out loud. In fact, today this book would probably be a graphic novel. Every scene is described so clearly, even to the postures and gestures of the individuals involved in a conversation, that you can picture them. But the whole thing is so ironic: Hans Castorp, swaddled in his fur sleeping bag and camels’ hair blankets, taking his nightly rest cure by the orange glow of his table lamp, out on the balcony overlooking the lights of Davos-Platz, high in the Alps.

 

And then there are Audio Books

Gladwell, Malcolm. David and Goliath. Likes to play with ideas that touch down near sciences, statistics, technology. Good for listening to while exercising.

July, Miranda. 2015? The First Bad Man. I stopped in the middle of this one. Narrator is a masochist.

Mantel, Hilary. The Assassination of Margaret Thatcher. Three jewel-like, perfectly written, uncomfortable and chilling stories.

Pratchett, Terry. Dodger. I will read almost anything by Terry Pratchett. This seems to be a sort of young adult novel. One of the characters in it is Charles Dickens, who uses Dodger to solve a mystery. I have also down loaded Going Postal, which I have read once, and the Science of Discworld, which seems to be a serious science series.

Smiley, Jane. Early Warning: An Iowa Family Saga. This is organized like a diary. Takes a whole Iowa family from one end of the 1950s through the 1980s. I listened to this while doing exercises down in the back yard, where the sun shines hot even on a cold day. I also listened to it while going to sleep. The idea might have been pretty powerful, but if you are writing a book that bridges a generation, you have the opportunity to choose something that barely penetrates public consciousness when it starts, but then has a life-or-death consequence twenty years later. You can show how events don’t just happen and pass away, they carve out the future. Smiley completely misses this. It’s as if she googled the headlines for each year and makes sure that one of her characters is on the periphery of some famous events – the Moratorium march, the Jim Jones massacre, the farm crisis. But a dozen years later, these events have not left a mark.

Another photo of the Tax The Rich demonstration. I have heard that there is more civil society organizing going on these days in the US than anyone has ever documented in the past. Makes sense, but you have to organize among people who are not like yourselves.

solano-rally-evelyn

 

Knee Surgery — December 11, 2016

Knee Surgery

ice-machines-sm-xmas

Living room with rugs pulled up, ice machine under daybed, lots of pillows for elevating legs, yellow pad on which I keep a record of my medications, small Christmas tree to be decorated ASAP

I have not written much in this blog the last couple of weeks, but it’s not just because I was overwhelmed by the election.

On November 22 I had bilateral total knee replacement surgery at the Kaiser hospital in San Leandro. This is a new facility, only a couple of years old. It’s huge, very specialized.They have relocated all the leg joint surgery – knee, hip, whatever – there.  A gigantic facility like this pre-supposes continuity of funding. Kaiser was lining itself up to be the private sector model for Single Payer — now what? We’ve got Trump promising to do away with Obamacare and Medicare.

On my way into the pre-op suite I caught a vista of at least 25 fully equipped stations, all of them empty. Maybe because this was 2 days before Thanksgiving and the surgeons didn’t want to be on call to discharge patiences on Thanksgiving. Maybe there are some days when all 25 stations are full. That would look like, and sound like, a battleground.

Many friends were surprised that I needed knee replacement at all. In the daytime, I walked around like most other people. However, I stopped running for exercise back in 2006, in Chicago. The last 3 years I’ve noticed that riding more than 15 miles on my bike – even my electric bike – causes inflammation of my knees that wakes me up at night. According to X-rays, I’ve got severe arthritis in my knees (and moderate in my hips). Then last July, in Vermont, I took a Latin Dance class from my yoga instructor. It was three nights before the burning calmed down. A couple of days later I got out a shovel to dig up the raspberries. This time I had pain at 3 am that was kind of like solar flares. The flames had blue tips. On the pain scale where they ask you to rate your pain 1-10 I’d call it a 9. Since living in Vermont requires gardening, wheeling the wheelbarrow, etc, I asked for a recommendation from my GP at Kaiser who sent me to a young surgeon (David Junwoo Lee) who said I was a good candidate for a bilateral. It was a brisk, cheerful interview.

I had never heard of a bilateral, but apparently they are doing more and more of them. Several friends said I was crazy.

At first, my surgery was scheduled for February, so that was far enough away I could forget about it. But then I got a call saying he could do it in just a few weeks, November 22nd, right before Thanksgiving. Should I cancel? My reason for choosing “cancel” would be “fear.”

For the weeks before the surgery, I intensified my exercise program. Our carpenter friend Ben built a small yoga deck down in the back yard where the sun lands early in the morning. It was very pleasant to go down there with a yoga mat and my phone, which is loaded with audio books, and do yoga.The sun shone and the various things in the garden were thriving, except for a trumpet vine that seems to have not done well being watered by laundry wash outflow.

Now, post-surgery, Joe basically is full-time helping me. He cooks, shops, does the wash, makes the bed, cleans the floor, brings in the mail, puts out the garbage bins, even answers the phone. If he can carve out 2 hours to do his email, that’s good. Gabi and her family and my brother and his family have helped a lot. Brian came over and gave advice and drove us to my first post-op doctor’s appointment. Luckily, our living quarters are all on one floor. Bathroom, bedroom, living room, kitchen – all close together, one level.

Joe and Katie Quan took care of the presentation about labor, trade and Vietnam that we had signed up for at the Zinn Bookfair on December 4 and it went well. We have found that explaining what we were doing in Viet Nam to people in the US is like peeling layers off an onion, one at a time — and you have to do it slowly. You often have to go all the way back to the economic condition of Viet Nam after the American War in order to find a piece of the story that the other person knows. If you can find someone who has gone beyond that, you’re in luck. The people who came to their presentation were already a bit informed.

It has been raining hard and the days have been dark. Every day I work through a full list of exercises to do and medications to take. I am now progressing well enough to be “off the chart.” I can walk around the house and use crutches, go up and down a few steps very slowly, and have full extension and 112 degree retraction. The PT can’t justify home visits any more.  I still rely on the pain meds, although I’m stretching them out a bit. Their main effect (other than masking the pain) is to make me very short-tempered. I read, do email, listen to music and audio books. I also try to keep up with a little computer language program, Duo Lingo, to learn some kind of Vietnamese which is mind-bogglingly different from English. I can say, “I am forever in kindergarten,” or rather, I can recognize the Vietnamese words that mean this when spoken by the audio ap. Whether I could say those words in a way that any Vietnamese speaker could recognize is still to be tested.

It looks as if we will definitely be going back to Ton Duc Thang next August. I have been in touch with Dean Hoa, Vinh, Vy, An, Nghia and Nghia Vo, and also with the Director of the War Remnants Museum. We won’t stay for 6 months; it will be more like two or three. We will apply for Fullbrights but given the new politics, we aren’t counting on getting anything.

Revenge is a meal best eaten cold

Jan-Werner Muller has a pretty good article in the current (December 1, 2016) issue of the London Review of Books, which is the publication I go to more and more often for the most useful stuff. Muller quotes Michael Moore saying that Trump was elected on a revenge vote, the “biggest fuck-you in recorded history.” But now that Trump is elected, can he govern on “fuck-you”? What does that look like? Fuck who? Probably, the people who voted for him. “Down with everything!” includes “Down with you, suckers!”

Trump ran as a populist, claiming to speak for the “real people” who have been riding the race to the bottom since the 1970s. As a populist, he mirrored and gave voice to their collective, justified and mostly ignored or ridiculed anger. Too many real people in the US suffered material and moral injuries over the last 50 years; the remedy promised by Trump is non-specific revenge. Can revenge work as an organizing principle of government? Muller says yes:

The crucial thing to understand is that populists can govern as populists. . . . The wall might not get built [the wall along the border with Mexico] but that can be made to mean something other than the breaking of a campaign promise. Trump would merely need to convince enough people that it was the enemies of the nation – globalists, Democrats, former beauty queens, whatever – who prevented the practical realization of the imperative of white self-protection. The supply of enemies is inexhaustible (p. 13).

All he has to do to stay in power is to find a parade of people to blame when his policies fail or backfire. Last week he boasted that he had “saved 1100 jobs” at Carrier (air conditioning, heating) in Indiana. In fact, it’s somewhere near 500, or maybe 800 – I’ve seen different figures. He did it by promising $7 million in tax credits to Carrier. Actually Vice-President Elect Pence, as governor of Indiana, was the person who arranged that $7 million. So $7 million for 700 jobs is $10,000 per job, paid for by the taxes owed to the people of Indiana that Carrier should have paid. And all the jobs at a nearby Carrier plant are going to Mexico. In the course of this, Trump blamed the local USW president, Chuck Jones, saying that the union should spend more time working, less time talking, and reduce dues.

Real government is not a calendar of tweets, photo ops, rallies and talk show appearances. Those are government as reality TV show, which is how Muller forsees Trump consolidating his populist base. But in the background he has all the apparatus of real government to play with:

Populists aren’t just fantasy politicians; what they say and do can be in response to real grievances and can have very real consequences. . . They define an alternative political reality in which their monopoly on the representation of the “real” people is all that matters; in Trump’s case, an alt-reality under the auspices of the alt-right.

 In the US, this will probably mean a free hand for K Street lobbyists and all-out crony capitalism; continual attempts to undermine checks and balances (p 14).

My Viet Nam article in the LERA publication, Perspectives on Work, came out and I got a copy. It’s not bad, although it was written nearly 10 months ago. They printed the title wrong, unfortunately: Facing Capitalism: One View of Labor, Education in the New Vietnam, should have been Facing Capitalism: One View of Labor Education in the New Vietnam. Apparently the editor did not recognize labor education as the topic of the article. I had asked them to send me a galley proof but the editor told me they do not do that any more.

Liberal Nihilists

The “dark matter” in this picture – the heavyweight invisible mass that seems to add momentum to every whiplash curve on this roller coaster ride – are what Muller calls “the liberal nihilists.” Some of my friends, especially in my generation, fall into this category; publicly, they are keeping their heads high, but secretly, they are afraid and fatalistic. They live in gated communities, either real or imaginary, and apres moi le deluge.

Trump’s strategy for dealing with the liberal nihilists is to keep us confused by, for example, inviting Al Gore to come visit him in Trump Tower and then threatening to appoint the chair of Exxon Mobile as Secretary of State.

In the meantime, the deadlines created by climate change will draw closer and pass. Behind the curtain of the reality TV “government” show, Trump’s buddies will try to pack their suitcases with everything they think they might need to make it through the anthropocene.

People who are not liberal nihilists: Message from USA Labor Educators and Leaders Solidarity Network to our friends in Viet Nam

This was drafted by Leanna and Hollis, discussed by the rest of us, revised and approved on 12.04. 16. These people are not liberal nihilists. Note the links to readings at the bottom.

Statement from “USA Labor Educators & Leaders Solidarity Network” to Vietnam Friends

Dear Sisters and Brothers of Vietnam,

We write to you to express friendship and solidarity at a challenging moment for the United States. Although Hillary Clinton won the popular vote, because of the undemocratic election rules, Donald Trump will be our next President and the Republican Party will now control the Congress and be in position to control the U.S. Supreme Court as well.

First, we assure you that our strong commitment to solidarity between labor, academic and people’s organizations in Vietnam and the USA will continue regardless of who is President of the USA.

The role of the USA in international affairs in the coming four years is completely unknown. It is likely, however, that the USA will NOT ratify the Trans Pacific Partnership.

Donald Trump represents a huge threat to unions, immigrants, communities of color, diverse/different religions, women and all who support peace and justice. As labor educators and trade union leaders, we will face many challenges in the immediate FUTURE, but remain strong in raising consciousness against corporate power and the global race to the bottom.

The kind of democracy we have in the USA requires of us local organizing and grassroots activism. We are each doing all that we can individually and collectively.

We attach a list of readings that you may find helpful in learning about the recent USA elections and its potential impact.

We send to you our heartfelt solidarity and a deep commitment to continue to work with you for a better world for the people of Vietnam, the U.S. and throughout the world.

Onward for justice and peace!

Rick Bales

Joe Berry, retired labor educator, City College of San Francisco and University of Illinois, union leader AFT 2121, City College of San Francisco

Julie Brockman, Associate Professor of School of Human Resources and Labor Relations, Michigan State University

Elise Bryant

Richard Fincher, Mediator and Arbitrator

Michael Mauer, American Association of University Professors

Leanna Noble, retired union organizer and labor educator

Katie Quan, UC Berkeley Labor Center

Kim Scipes, Associate Professor of Sociology, Purdue University Northwest

Hollis Stewart, retired union leader and labor educator

Angie Ngoc Tran, Professor of Political Economy, Global Studies, CA State University, Monterey Bay

Kent Wong, UCLA Labor Center

Helena Worthen, retired labor educator, member, National Writers Union UAW 1981

 

Suggested Readings:

Quick Reflections on the November 2016 Elections, Bill Fletcher, http://billfletcherjr.com/2016/quick-reflections-november-2016-election/

Democrats, trump and the Ongoing Dangerous Refusal to Learn the Lesson of Brexit, Glenn Greenwald, https://theintercept.com/2016/11/09/democrats-trump-and-the-ongoing-dangerous-refusal-to-learn-the-lesson-of-brexit/

What Donald Trump Wants to Do in His 100 Days, Amita Kelly and Barbara Sprunt, http://www.npr.org/2016/11/09/501451368/here-is-what-donald-trump-wants-to-do-in-his-first-100-days

How Will a Trump Administration Lift Wages for the Vast Majority of Americans, Lawrence Mishel, http://www.epi.org/blog/how-will-a-trump-administration-lift-wages-for-the-vast-majority-of-americans-statement-of-lawrence-mishel-president-of-the-economic-policy-institute/

Revenge of the Forgotten Class, Alec MacGillis, https://www.propublica.org/article/revenge-of-the-forgotten-class

Labor Leaders Deserve their Share of the Blame for Donald Trump’s Victory, Micah Uetricht, http://inthesetimes.com/working/entry/19621/labor_leaders_deserve_their_share_of_the_blame_for_donald_trumps_victory

Why Trump Won the Electoral College Vote, Garrett Brown, http://stansburyforum.com/why-trump-won-the-electoral-college-vote/

In Trump, Extremism Found Its Champion and Maybe Its Demise, Adam G. Klein, http://theconversation.com/in-trump-extremism-found-its-champion-and-maybe-its-demise-67765

Still Trump, Black Panther Party exhibit, 3 summary points — November 12, 2016

Still Trump, Black Panther Party exhibit, 3 summary points

Protests

There are protests all over the country, but it’s not clear how well thought-through or coordinated they are. Many are anti-Trump but not pro-Hillary. The peaceful ones are about immigration, Black Lives Matter, and climate change.

Thousands of East Bay high schoolers flood Berkeley streets protesting Trump victory

There are also clusters of violence. I’m getting emails from the University of Illinois offering “safe” discussion group locations and a hotline for reporting violence or bullying. Today there was an announcement of cyber attacks on the U of Illinois email and website, and it is true, my email is acting funny. Friends on other campuses have told me about attacks on women wearing a hijab, vandalism, etc. The attacks are not pro-Trump. They are expressions of rage by people who  now think that they have license to behave like Trump. If the President can be racist, misogynist, insulting, and encourage violence (like assassinating Hillary), so can we.

A lot of the elite media (Washington Post, NYTimes, New Yorker) are publishing somewhat conciliatory opinion pieces. As in, “It’s not so bad, he seems to have a transition team of fairly moderate Republicans, etc.”

California

Locally, the candidates that we supported won. Jesse Arreguin will be the next Mayor of Berkeley, beating the well-funded  Laurie Capitelli, the apparent heir. Sophie Hahn will be the District 5 rep on the City Council. Most satisfying was the election of a young black woman, Shannell Williams, to the Board of Trustees of San Francisco City College. She was a student leader at the time that the accreditation attack began and has remained active and vocal all through the fight. She won with more votes than any candidate for the Board had ever received.

The top California legislators publicized a defiant statement promising to protect Californians and the rights and freedoms that we have here. They put it out in English and Spanish. This is specifically related to Trump’s threat to deport people but it is also more general:

http://sd24.senate.ca.gov/news/2016-11-09-joint-statement-california-legislative-leaders-result-presidential-election

The petition to secede from the United States is going around and getting a lot of signatures. The inside front page of today’s Chronicle had a long article supporting it. California has a Democratic governor, legislature and Congressional delegation, and went for Hillary 65% overall, 70-80-90% in the Bay Area.

These last two are challenges hurled at Trump the person. They are not directed against Trump supporters. In fact, the anger behind these initiatives is like the anger of Trump supporters.

Where is my community?

The neighborhood we live in is very white.The whiteness of my neighborhood makes me nervous. I have to go downtown Berkeley to even see a Black person.  Oakland, however, is mixed. (There is a big fight going on over gentrification in Oakland, which would price out the multi-ethnic and African American neighborhoods.)

A lesson that is coming home to me because of this election is that I need to find my community and get more involved in it.

Yesterday, Friday, Joe and I went to an exhibit at the Oakland Museum celebrating 50 years since the founding of the Black Panther Party. I went in hopes of seeing something that would help me understand grassroots organizing. It’s is a powerful and well-designed exhibit. The Black Panthers emerged out a redevelopment project that leveled an old Black neighborhood in Oakland, replacing it with office towers. It coincided with the Viet Nam War where disproportionate numbers of young Black men were sent to die fighting. The Panthers did deep community organizing, armed themselves, trained and scared the daylights out of white people. Their organization had chapters all across the country. Many of their leaders were jailed and shot.

bp-exhibit-bars

The long videos accompanying the exhibit are especially good. So are the galleries with the blown-up FBI files on the wall.

fbi-file-blowup

One lesson that applies right now, from the Black Panthers, is that they had a program. They weren’t just doing whatever came next. They worked out a 10-point program. In the exhibit, the actual sheets of yellow legal pad paper with corrections in pencil are arranged in a glass case, under a big wall on which the whole program is written.

10-p-program

The other lesson, which is more obvious, is that the kind of community organizing that they did involved intense, detailed planning and many, many people — all kinds and ages of people.  They had not only their famous breakfast program for kids; they also had medical emergency services and transportation, a newspaper, assistance for old folks, home repair collectives – the exhibit includes a “how to set up a plumbing repair service” booklet.  And of course they had their military drills, which were on the one hand a form of public dance and on the other hand real self-defense program, with guns and ammunition. Some of the most famous photos of the Black Panthers show them walking into the California legislature with their rifles.

We were there on Friday evening when entrance to the Museum is free after 5. Coming out of the exhibit, we heard music and found the main  foyer where there was a sound system and stage, long tables for eating, and a full bar. People — whole families – were dancing under the lights in the entrance. Up on the street a line of a dozen food trucks were selling wonderful food. Little kids, babies, old women, old men, couples, all colors and ethnicities mixed up together. You could see the direct line of descent passed down from the Panthers. I thought, “I’m glad I’m here.”

Only a few blocks away, last night there was a protest with people burning tires and garbage in the middle of the street.

This picture was taken early, before the crowd got really big. But you can see people dancing and eating.

oakland-dancing

Trump and TPP: Why trust him now? 

Questions from friends in Viet Nam are about TPP.  I wrote back to one of them, forwarding a typical anti-TPP message, this one from Tim Canova at Progress for Change:

But let this be a wake-up call.  There is no time to waste in organizing against the Trans-Pacific Partnership, the disastrous corporate giveaway that the political establishment may still try pushing through the upcoming lame-duck Congress. 

Some Senate leaders have indicated they may not bring the TPP up for a vote in the lame-duck Congress.  But now is not the time to trust in their sincerity or to let our guard down.  We must put a stake through the heart of the TPP and the anti-democratic agenda that it represents.

If passed, the TPP will outsource millions of our service jobs, raise prescription drug prices, endanger the open internet, and undermine our food safety, health and environmental protections.

This is the US progressive left-wing moderate argument against TPP.  As you can see, there is nothing in it about freedom of association, independent unions in Viet Nam or anywhere else. People in the US do not know anything about the Viet Nam labor side agreement. To us here, TPP is all about being a “corporate giveaway” that will send US jobs to low-wage countries and will allow corporations to sue countries and governments for “loss of future profits.” Bernie’s post-convention group, OurRevolution, calls for celebration of the death of TPP: “Dead in the water.”

However, since TPP favors corporations, there is every reason in the world for the Republicans to support it, and Trump will probably do whatever the majority party in Congress (Republicans) want on this one. TPP favors corporations in two ways: one, it allows US corporations to ship jobs overseas. But this is actually less important than the other part: like NAFTA, it enables corporations to sue governments if they (the government) takes actions that impact “future profits.” LIke increasing minimum wage, for example. Corporations can actually sue governments if the government takes an action that protects its people but impacts “future profits” – whatever they may be estimated to be — of a corporation.

Trump changes his mind whenever he thinks it will make a good TV photo-op moment or tweet. Since TPP is good for corporations in the US, it is very likely that Trump will change his mind about it and support it. The Clinton emails released a couple of weeks ago show her staff trying to figure out how to shift to respond to anti-TPP pressure from Bernie and they sure don’t sound committed to the new position. Would she have stuck to her position if she’d been elected? Probably not. On this one, Trump probably won’t either.

TPP, Viet Nam and Freedom of Association

It’s important to un-link freedom of association in Viet Nam from the current version of TPP. I personally agree that Viet Nam needs active, fighting unions in order to push back against FDI (foreign direct investment) companies. If the VGCL can re-make itself to accomplish that, great!! After all, it has a powerful history of being able to mount and carry on fights, going back to the French and the slavery conditions in the rubber plantations. But now I have been told that 90% of the people working at the VGCL are doing Party work, not organizing among workers. We in the US have plenty of similarities to this. It is very hard for a big bureaucratic union to re-create itself. I can not think of a single example from the US where a big, bureaucratic union  has been successful at re-inventing itself. Sending people who have spent 20 years at desk jobs out to salt in non-union workplaces? Look at the big breakaway in 2005 when SEIU, IBT, UFW and UNITE HERE left the AFL-CIO supposedly to re-create themselves as “organizing” unions. Some success, yes, but far from what we hoped for. 

I think that the form of unions proposed under the TPP side agreement is a good start, but has to be re-designed according to Vietnamese culture and history and values. The good thing about the side agreement is that it frees up grassroots level unions to self-organize and fight back against employers, which in the long run will bring wages up in Viet Nam and make Viet Nam less attractive to corporations that want to go low-wage. So if freedom of association produces grassroots fighting unions that drive wages and working conditions up in Viet Nam, fewer jobs from the US will relocate there, and that will be good for US workers. But that is not part of the discussion here in the US. Also, it is a long shot and no US worker who is trying to figure out how to pay next month’s rent and groceries is going to be impressed. 

Right now, the Republicans are saying TPP is not going to come up. Here is a link to a conference in Ho Chi Minh City for Nov 14. Note the segment on labor law:

http://36mfjx1a0yt01ki78v3bb46n15gp.wpengine.netdna-cdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/161114-AAFA-TPP-Workshop-2016_agenda-2.pdf

Boiling it down to three points

Today is Saturday the 12th. I dreamed last night that my car had been stolen and my purse had been stolen, and that the officer at the fire department (why did I seek help from the fire department?) told me I needed a lawyer to get them back.

I think I can summarize what has happened in three points:

  1. The pain is real.
  2. The fact that Trump will be president is a function of the electoral college.
  3. Hillary won the popular vote, but that’s not what matters.

The pain: People voted, as they say, with their middle finger. They are angry because their real life conditions are insecure, bad and getting worse. They see the rich getting richer. They feel like they are on a speeding-up down escalator headed toward a trash compactor. They know it’s a lottery, and they’re mad. These are the consequences of inequality. It’s not the objective conditions of someone’s life that produce this anger. Poverty, in a country where people are more equal to each other, does not in itself produce this sense of outrage. You can be content and live well on little, but not if you are being constantly tormented by incentives to consume and the sense that you are being publicly shamed and robbed. That causes pain, and a healthy response to pain like that is anger.

The electoral college: The electoral college process was invented soon after we became our own country and its purpose was to buffer the selection of top leaders from the popular vote. Its message is that you can’t trust the people. You can’t trust direct democracy. Well, it works.

The popular vote: Hillary actually won. But that doesn’t really matter, and not because it doesn’t make her president. Even if the electoral college were not a factor, and if she became president based on the popular vote, we would still be looking at a country  divided against itself and boiling in a fever of fear and resentment. If Hillary had won, the voices of those people probably would have been silenced, at least for the time being. They would have been scattered out into a few million individual voices. Cranks, wackos, Fox News types. But with Trump winning, those voices have made a collective point. Now the two sides can see each other in the light of day. Take a good hard look: this is us.

Trump — November 11, 2016

Trump

There is no way to avoid returning to this blog.

I worked at the polls on Tuesday, November 8, in Berkeley. Our polling place was in a Methodist church a few blocks away from our house. We met there at 6 am to  set up all the equipment. The instruction booklet was 164 pages long. The touch screen system alone was like setting up a whole home entertainment center and must have cost thousands of dollars but you had to have it in case someone blind, deaf or needing to use touch instead of writing wanted to use it. The polls opened at 7 am. We had a line out the door for a while

img_0912

By 7:30 pm we had had 191 people coming through. These were people who wanted to vote in person. Some brought young kids. A couple of parents brought older children. One angry mother brought her twenty-something daughter who looked as if she had been rousted out of bed after a night of partying. Probably more than half of the people who vote, vote by mail, so that 191 was less than half the people in our precinct. Only a few people who were not mail voters failed to show up and vote at the poll.

When you come in, you say your street address, we find you on a list organized by address, and we cross you off that list. The next person asks you your name and gets you to put your signature and address on an alphabetical list. Your party is listed on the page where you are listed by address. That’s the paper with the ruler lying on it. I only saw one person listed as Republican. There were maybe 20 people listed as Independent. All the rest, Democrat.

We did not have internet in the polling place so I was not keeping up on the reports coming in, for example, from the East Coast where the polls shut 3 hours before ours do.

At about 7:30 I went outside to see if anyone else was coming. A man was walking his dog. I said, “How are you doing?” He said, “I’m scared. I was so upset I had to go walk the dog.”

This was the first I heard that Trump was winning.

I felt like a knife was in my stomach. I went home, couldn’t stand hearing wise pundits make smart-ass remarks or even sensible left critiques on TV. I watched ABC, corporate news if there ever was any, where at least they just let a photographer pan a camera slowly across the faces of people at Hillary’s headquarters. They were mostly young. Many were crying. Mostly, they just sat staring. The emotions described the day after — “shocked,” “shattered”, “astonishing” – could be seen on their faces. Very little hugging going on. It wasn’t like a murder or a horrible accident, where you can turn to your next door neighbor and hug them and get comforted. This was worse. Blackout.

 

Next day I made it a point to talk with everyone I met, on the street, at Kaiser hospital where I was going for some tests, at the library downtown. For everyone, it was a bad, bad day. Grand-daughter Isabelle, like many her age (and rightly so) was in tears. These are tears of betrayal and fear. For them, climate change is the big issue — the Arctic has melted this year so much that a cruise ship is going through, and the fisheries offshore are nearly dead. The chance to put the brakes on the end of the world has been pissed away. It’s going to be Mad Max, all the dystopian movies they’ve watched come to life. Students at Berkeley High and Albany High, and others as the idea caught on, walked out.

 

By Thursday the emails are piling up. Instead of fundraising appeals, my inbox is now full of “What do we do now?” messages. A few people from Viet Nam have communicated: “What happened? How did this happen? Can you explain your electoral system?” And:”What will happen with TPP?”

 

Many of my friends are compiling reading lists or articles, books, podcasts, things that we will read from and learn from. I am doing this too. In Paris, where daughter Gabi has gone on a quick visit to a friend, they went to a museum exhibit on revolutions and came away feeling better. Joe and I are going to the Oakland Museum tomorrow where they have an exhibit commemorating the 50th anniversary of the Black Panthers.

There are a number of theories being floated about where the Trump phenomenon came from.

 

Silo-ed media

Silo-ed media. People don’t all read one or two newspapers any more. Some people listen to talk radio and watch reality TV; others read the New Yorker, the NYTimes, the London Review of Books, the Atlantic, etc.  People have their individual news feeds and they see and read what they want to see and read. They un-friend people they disagree with and re-post things they agree with. So do I. All the elite media were passionately pro-Hillary, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist (except as a curiosity). See the photos of “voters” (including several Trump supporters) served up as objects d’art in a recent issue of the New Yorker. A weary dirty tatooed coal miner in his pick up truck, suitable for framing.

I read the elite media, so I was shocked when Trump won. I didn’t believe it possible. If all these elite media (the power papers) are pro-Hillary, what could go wrong? Plenty.

Bernie could have won

Bernie could have won. The enthusiasm for Bernie was real. People trusted him. His speeches and messages gave real information about who we are and what the problems are. People loved him. He could have engaged the Trump voters – on the issues, such as inequality, he was hitting the same points only intelligently. The moment he turned it over to Hillary at the convention, the fire went out. The campaign went from fighting for what you want and believe in to second-guessing what you have to fight for in order to win.

The Democratic National Committee definitely undercut Bernie’s candidacy. I would like to know where Debbie Wasserman Schultz, the chair of the DNC who was caught doing this and had to resign, is now. I see that Bernie is proposing Congressman Keith Ellison, a black Muslim from Minnesota, as the new DNC chair.

Many supporters of Hillary, while Bernie was still in the race, liked Bernie but thought he wouldn’t win so they played it safe by supporting Hillary. Playing it safe is not a good strategy for winning a fight if the opposition is equipped with enormous power that it is willing to use ruthlessly. There is no safe strategy for winning in a situation like that. The safe strategy is losing. I actually am glad, in a way, that Bernie chose to step out of the fight at a point where he still had his health and his job and could live to fight again.

 

Hillary’s campaign was too much about fear and fundraising

Once Bernie went back to his job as Senator from Vermont, everything I got from Hillary’s campaign was fear-mongering pleas for money. These were one-way email messages, no reply possible. Sometimes I’d get a message from the DCCC saying that if I gave $5, someone else would give $20. With that kind of backup, they didn’t need my $5. And all the subject lines were panic.

What about support from women for Hillary?

Women my age understood how her experience had marked her — how women who graduated in the 60s and 70s often had to travel with a more powerful male partner in order to survive in the intensely sexist world of business and politics. But to men, and to younger people, this was invisible. That  would have taken a whole feminist critique that never happened. Can you imagine where teaching that curriculum would have had to start, in order to explain that? Young women today have no sense of what it was like to be a smart ambitious girl in the 1960s and 1970s.

The big unions played it safe, too

The big unions — SEIU, AFT, NEA, UAW, AFSCME — endorsed Hillary.  Some did it early without even consulting their members  (although some claimed they had). This turned them into gears in the Democratic machine, which didn’t inspire trust or enthusiasm. Instead, it inspired resentment. So many union voters, feeling betrayed, (this is post-election demographics hindsight) just went for Trump. The AFL CIO hung back and didn’t endorse anyone for a long time,which sent the message that they didn’t want to offend anyone until the convention, where Hillary would take over and it would be safe to endorse. “Playing it safe” is not a good strategy for a union. Unions like to have reputations for being able to mount a good fight. “The Union that Plays it Safe” is not a motto that unions want.

Voter suppression

Many people couldn’t vote.  There were many different kinds of voter suppression going on, from long lines at polling places, threats of intimidation of voters by Trump people, machines that didn’t work, the requirements for voter IDs that make it so if you can’t find your ID, you don’t bother, and all the constraints placed on people who have been through the criminal justice system (unequally black men) like not allowing people charged with a felony to vote. This varied state by state. In California, we don’t require ID at the polling place. But so many people have heard about “Voter ID” that many people came to our table and pulled out their driver’s licenses. “Voter suppression” is a big factor. The Voting Rights Act of 1965 was weakened in 2013 (http://www.latimes.com/nation/politics/trailguide/la-na-election-day-2016-how-did-the-weakened-voting-rights-act-1478670026-htmlstory.html) resulting in 13 states where there were new restrictions on voting.

Suppressed or not, many people didn’t vote, including African Americans

We’ll see, but it looks as if African Americans did not vote proportionally to their numbers. Supposedly, the Clintons had the black community wrapped up. But I have heard that there was a “You take us for granted” pushback going on. Memories of Bill Clinton playing the sax did not override memories of welfare reform and the spike in mass incarceration.

Polls were simply wrong

A woman in my yoga class has a son who works for a major news website and is in charge of designing the model that integrated the reports from all the different polls. She says, “He says that they got the model wrong.” Poof. So the 85% chance of winning that Hillary had last week was….not actually there.

So there’s two different things: what happened and what will happen. I am still thinking about what happened. I’m not yet ready to think about what will happen. To me, Trump is a grotesque toad-like gloating monster who has clearly shown himself to be racist, misogynist, bullying, a sexual predator, a flip-flopper liar, etc etc. He is ridiculous. No one could take him seriously! But then he wins. Once he wins he is just a monster.

Of course I also couldn’t believe people would vote for Schwartznegger, the body-builder actor with the Austrian accent who became Governor of California. He would have been President of the US, or at least run for it, if he had been born in the US. And then there’s Ronald Reagan. And Putin has made himself into a celebrity, apparently — photographed riding a horse bare-chested!

How do I feel about being an American?

One thing that is different for me today: I am beginning to think hard about what it means to me to be an American. I am thinking about what part of my identity “being” an American — meaning a US citizen, not a Mexican or a Brazilian, who are also Americans – actually is. I remember a year ago, sitting up in the bleachers in the soccer stadium at Ton Duc Thang, with Vinh, watching what looked like military exercises performed by students as part of some mass celebration. I remember feeling that the military exercises made me feel sick. It’s one thing if you’re a small country that gets invaded. It’s another thing if you come from a big country that has a history of invading other countries and fighting wars on the territory of other people’s countries and killing lots people that way.

 

Believe it or not, I may have always taken my identity as an American to be something neutral, kind of like being white. There are Americans, and then there is the rest of the world. There are white people, and then there are all those diversity people. In the last 20 years I have had some experiences, while traveling, of understanding that I could be disliked because I am American, and that this is well-justified. I have also been lucky enough to have had the experience of distrusted and excluded because I am white. Also justly. Really thinking about it is something I am going to be forced to do seriously now that I am a citizen of Trump’s America.

If I was in a small country that was over run by a violent invading country, it would be clearer to know who the enemy was and how to fight back. If this were Czechoslovakia in 1968 or Hungary in 1956 –  or Viet Nam, for that matter – I would know who was the enemy. But how about this – when the enemy is us? It’s kind of like rape: by the time it’s happening, it’s too late.

 

 

 

 

 

Vermont, looking ahead — October 4, 2016

Vermont, looking ahead

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not-a-lot-of-color

This is the view from Overlook Trail in the Jamaica State Park, near our village. The colors are olive-y and yellow, with only a few splashes of brighter color. We’re waiting for rain; scarlet will come later.

Our apple trees don’t make pretty apples, though they are perfectly good for cooking.

apple-in-grass

A closer look, if you’re interested…

apple-halves-skin

And this…

apple-halves-2

 

Yesterday I was clearing out some goldenrod and other stuff from behind the raspberries and found a monster wild grapevine draped and twisted up over two medium-sized smokebushes that turn purple and red at this time of year and two trees, an ash and a maple. The grapevine had ripe grapes on it — blackish purple blue, small, as little as kernels of corn but round of course, and stronger tasting than anything you can buy in a store. I picked them and brought them in, boiled them, strained them, added just a bit of sugar and got a syrup that tasted like pure essence of grape. Stronger than grape soda or grape candy. Bears go crazy for these. We bought vanilla ice cream at the store next door to dilute the intense grape flavor enough to make it edible.

Last weekend the Army Corps of Engineers, which operates the dam up at Ball Mountain, released water to raise the flow of the West River, which runs through the park. Kayakers from all over the East came to ride down the river, some going as far as the Townshend Dam ten miles below. The amount of equipment required for this sport is enormous. The skirts on this woman’s outfit snap onto the rim of the seat of the kayak, keeping it from filling up with water.

fully-equipped

A pickup truck carries boats and paddlers up from the parking lot, along the railroad right-of-way, and deposits them at the end of the trail just below the dam.  They gather along the shore before pushing out into the current.

jellybean kayaks.jpg

What does all this have to do with Viet Nam? Well, I’ve been loading papers onto Academia.edu all day now for four days. It’s a tricky website, but it seems to be working. It’s interesting to see what I’ve been up to for the last 15 years. I have also sent some emails. Joe and I have brooded over various ideas. I am reading the new book by John Marciano, The American War in Vietnam, published by Monthly Review, written to voice a perspective that is in angry opposition to the “noble cause” perspective of the Commemoration, an event apparently designed to last through 2025, which would be 50 years since the Americans left.

I’ve looked for and found Nghia’s blog:

It is at:

http://trongnghia1300057.blogspot.com/

We are now looking ahead a year instead of back a year.

August, 2016 — August 26, 2016

August, 2016

State capitol

Entryway of the Iowa State Capitol building seen from second floor landing of grand staircase

Exactly one year ago today Joe and I went to Viet Nam. The plane (San Francisco to Taipei, Taipei to Ho Chi Minh City) landed in HCMC about mid-day. Dean Hoa and Vinh met us at the airport, piled us — with our half dozen suitcases, heavy with books — into a van and took us first to our room at TDTU and then to lunch. The next day we staggered into class. Joe “taught” for 6 hours straight. Like being thrown into a chest-high river and trying to walk across it.

 

We stayed for 6 months. It was great. We want to go back.

 

Today, a year later, I have been upstairs in the guest room at the top of the house in Berkeley, where I have a sort of desk, going through a set of file folders full of anti-war material gathered by my parents between 1962 and 1970. The war in question is the Viet Nam war, known to the Vietnamese as the American War. I discovered these folders back in June, when we were in Vermont. They were up in the barn in a cardboard box. The loft of the barn is full of boxes. Every year I try to open at least one box up there, and this was the last box I opened in June of this year, two months ago.

 

I remember my mother saying, when she was in her late 80’s, “Oh, all the stuff in the barn!” And I would say, “Don’t throw it away! We’ll deal with it.” Now, twenty years later, bit by bit, I’m dealing with it. Often, it is stuff that I did not know existed. The box of Felix Greene photos that Joe and I donated to the War Remnants Museum in HCMC is an example of that stuff. And now, here are these file folders with the anti-war movement material inside.

 

So I have been going through these folders, reading most of the material, but skipping some things if they are too long or too technical. I am riveted by what I am reading. The documents range from handmade fliers, newspaper clippings and hand-written messages to an annual report of the South East Asia Treaty Organization (SEATO) that includes the treaty itself. I’m entering each of them into a table, which will serve as a sort of annotated bibliography. So far, the table is 12 pages long. I hope to take the whole archive back to Viet Nam and give it to the War Remnants Museum, which has expressed an interest in the US anti-war movement. Altogether, this material creates a day-to-day picture of what participating in that movement was like on the ground for ordinary people who were pushing back as hard as they could against the juggernaut of a government intoxicated by military imperialist ambitions.

 

This picture supports my overall argument that change for the better comes from below, which is related to the sub-argument that enforcement of anything good for the 99% (in current terminology) comes from below. This in turn is related to what we were trying to teach in our classes and in our discussions about higher education in Viet Nam last year. I think I can write a bullet-point explanation of the implications of this assertion – its implications for organizing, labor education, labor law, unions, labor judicial procedures, industrial relations regimes, etc. etc.

 

Among the documents are newspaper clippings about one of the Moratorium demonstrations, which my parents attended. There is a speech by Tran Van Dinh, along with photos of him and my father’s handwritten notes on that speech. There is a newspaper ad signed by fifty or more activists. It announces a silent vigil to be held at mid-day on the town common in Hudson, Ohio, where my father worked as a teacher at a boy’s private school. There is a letter to the editor of the local paper blaming the theft of Christmas decorations on the ‘rebellious” participants in that silent vigil. The writer’s son in law is a Marine in Viet Nam. There are some handwritten notes addressed to my mother, thanking her for staffing an anti-war booth at a county fair in Cummington, Massachusetts, a small farming village where we spent every summer. My grandfather, who was a professor and had long summer vacations, owned a very old house up on the side of a mountain above the fairground. I remember helping my mother at that booth, but I don’t remember much else. In one of her replies, she explains that a couple of weeks before the fair she had the idea of the booth, got one assigned to her (and some friends? How could she do this alone?), and wrote to various anti-war organizations who promptly sent along flyers, posters, petitions, etc. which she distributed. There are pages from I.F. Stone’s Weekly, Minority of One, a Catholic magazine and The Guardian (NY)

 

Of course, the first things that grabbed my attention in these files were copies of LOOK, LIFE, Newsweek and Saturday Evening Post with multi-page photo essays about life in North Vietnam under the bombings, some by Lee Lockwood, with text by David Schoenbrun.

 

I am embarrassed to say how much I am learning. I can’t believe that I went to Viet Nam and tried to teach anybody anything without knowing all this stuff first.

 

Concurrently I am reading Truth Is The First Casualty: The Gulf of Tonkin Affair – Illusion and Reality, by Joseph C. Goulden, Rand McNally, 1969, which tracks the provocation of North Vietnamese patrol boats by the spy ship Maddox, coincident with an attack on nearby islands by South Vietnamese-piloted but US-provided Swift boats, through deliberate misrepresentations of reports of what happened next, up through Lyndon Johnson’s shoving of the Tonkin Gulf Resolution through Congress. He later used this resolution to claim unlimited war powers. All of this despite repeated attempts by the Captain of the Maddox to cast doubt on the reality of the aggression on the part of any patrol boats and requests to be allowed to move his ship away from the North Vietnamese coast, arguing “unacceptable risk.” Of course it turns out he was being ordered to put his boat and his men at risk in order to provoke an attack. The book ends with the hearings led by Senator Fulbright in which his committee pushes McNamara to admit that the Tonkin Gulf resolution was based on lies. It took another couple of years for investigative journalists to really uncover the true story.

 

It’s was another variation on the fraudulent rationales for the beginnings of many other US wars — the Mexican War (“American blood has been shed on American soil” ), the Spanish-American War (“Remember the Maine”), even WWI (the sinking of the “harmless, civilian and unarmed Lusitania”), not to mention Korea and virtually all the US wars since Vietnam. And today there’s an article in the Chronicle about “an Iranian boat” tickling the nose of the American ship in the Persian Gulf. The US boat – actually a destroyer named the Tempest- fired three “warning shots” to challenge the “unprofessional” behavior of the Iranian boats.

 

So now Fulbright, the critic of Johnson and his Vietnam war policy, gets the new Harvard-related university in Ho Chi Minh City named after him. Someone probably thought this had to be balanced by naming Bob Kerrey, who as a Navy SEAL conducted a massacre of Vietnamese civilians during the war, to the position of Chairman of the Board.

 

I am mentally comparing the breadth and depth of the anti-war movement then, and the situation we are in now. To the extent that there is a movement in this country, it’s Black Lives Matter and Bernie. The current wars, although ignited by our invasion of Iraq in 2003, have been swept into the fallout from climate change (drought, hunger, migration) but the pieces have not been linked up into a coherent front of opposition.

 

The Roosevelt High School in Des Moines, Iowa, 50th Reunion

 

We were in Vermont in June but have spent July and August in Berkeley. The house in Vermont was rented out for much of that time, which helps pay the property tax and upkeep. But in August we took 5 days and went back to Iowa to attend Joe’s 50th high school reunion. Iowa is in the middle of the country. It’s got thousands and thousands of acres of fertile prairie planted with corn and soybeans, mostly agribusiness. Driving through Iowa is like driving along the ocean, except that the sea is green, not blue. There are no real cities in Iowa. Des Moines, at 200,000 people, (600,000 metro) is the biggest town and very spread out.

 

Joe graduated in 1966 from Roosevelt High School in Des Moines. It claimed, probably correctly, to be the best high school in Iowa. It was proud of being a “ranked” high school nationally. Back in the 1960s it was almost completely white, the kids came from wealthy families, and as far as I can tell what was going on was mostly athletics of the most gung-ho pep squad variety. So in 1965, the year after the Tonkin Gulf resolution, Joe was getting drawn into early (for Iowa) civil rights and anti-war movement activity along with a small group of other students. This activity included a student-led demonstration against the war in Viet Nam, in support of the North Vietnamese and Robert Kennedy calling for an open-ended Christmas truce. Students participating in the demonstration wore black armbands and got suspended from the their schools. The case filed in protest of this discipline went to the Supreme Court, which decided that black armbands were a form of free speech and that students and teachers “do not lose the right to free speech at the schoolhouse door”. The case is referred to as “the Tinker case” because the lead plaintiffs were named Tinker. Because Joe’s father was a public school teacher (at a different school, but he still could have been fired in retaliation for Joe’s behavior) Joe and one other student (also a “teacher’s kid”) wore black suits that day instead of black armbands. They were not sent home, but other kids threatened them, encouraged by the very popular football and basketball head coaches.

 

The reunion took place on three days, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Out of 700 odd in the class, a little over 100 returned. The returnees were all white with one exception on one day and three on another — a Black man, who came with a Black woman graduate, had taken a good look at the crowd and counted, but he included a woman from Hawaii as being a “person of color.” So that’s a story in itself. We went on a tour of the school. I found myself walking alongside a man (white, of course) about my age. I asked him, “Which way do you think this crowd is leaning, politically?” And he said, “50-50 Trump.” I had heard this from someone else, earlier. Looking around at the crowd, I saw fairly healthy looking people – yes, overwhelmingly white – nicely dressed, people who got at least a good high school education if not college (over 85% at least started college). Most of the people who talked with me seem to have worked for or maybe owned small businesses; trucking, communications, restaurants. Many retirees. I thought, is this the real Trump demographic? This is not the poor, uneducated, angry working class. These are people with something to lose. What’s happening here? What do these people think Trump can get them?

 

To me, a vote for Trump is like putting a gun in your mouth and pulling the trigger but expecting to rise up and live a new life afterwards, in a different body (but better-looking, and rich). I’ve heard that somewhere before, but it applies here.

 

Upon hearing that we had spent 6 months in Viet Nam, a pretty red-haired woman, Catholic, told the story of her husband who came back from Viet Nam with PTSD “before they knew what it was.” They had married five months before he went overseas. Her husband told her stories of taking big motorized equipment out along country roads to trigger explosives before troop movements, going into the jungle to collect body parts, and being told that he couldn’t shoot unless he was shot at. They had 3 kids. Over the next 20 years he drank himself to death.

 

There must be many Viet Nam vet stories in this crowd. Iowa was known to be a state where draft boards took their quotas religiously and were pitilessly patriotic about sending boys to war. Nearly all the men in this crowd must have had some brush with the war. The lottery saved some of them, of course. Either way, this crowd must still be living with those memories. But no attempt had been made by the organizers of the reunion to collect, synthesize and interpret the group experience of that cohort then and now.

 

Back in Viet Nam, when I tried to explain my knee-jerk distaste for military exhibitions by describing to our friends there how the trauma of the war shaped our generation in the US, they would nod respectfully but without much real interest. I don’t blame them. Viet Nam is a country that has been invaded over and over again. We are a country that invades other countries; that’s a big difference. On the other hand, while this has made me loathe military pomp, it seems to have had the opposite effect on many people in Iowa, at least people we saw at the Iowa State Fair (see below).

 

One hefty white male in a baseball cap, from Milwaukee (where there are a lot of demonstrations going on right now following another police shooting of a Black man) told me that he was retired and enjoys Bible study with an orthodox rabbi. This rabbi does not have a real congregation because he is “at odds’ with the orthodox community. He collects guns, has a sign in his kitchen saying “In Glock I trust”, rides a motorcycle, and keeps a kosher house. While this guy may have been making this all up just to horrify me, I doubt it. This same guy walked across the a whole room to talk to the only Black man in the room, who Joe was speaking with at the time, to tell him he was from Milwaukee, the “current riot capital of America” and the do a libertarian-racist rant about Black protestors and the government.

 

My main impression of the Roosevelt school buildings themselves is the amazing quantity of trophies – those gold-colored plastic (the older ones  are hard metal) models of athletes performing various sports, mounted on pedestals with plaques listing names and years – that seemed to decorate every single ledge or cabinet. Every trophy commemorates someone winning and someone losing. It’s as if winning or losing is the whole story of human experience. Joe says the coaches ran the school, and this seems to confirm that legacy. No art, no bookcases, no use of the long halls to educate or broaden the experience of kids by surrounding them with evidence of the wider world in which their high school is a part. No displays of student work, either art or writing or photography or crafts. No ethnic studies art or history, although today the school apparently has substantial African American, Latino and other minority enrollment. Come to think of it, we were not taken to see the library. We saw the gym, the weight room, the band room, the art studio, the swimming pool – but no library. In all of these locations, the décor was trophies or victory banners.

 

Among the 100-plus returnees, we connected with half a dozen kindred spirits, and will stay in touch with them if possible.

 

The Iowa State Fair

 

Once a year there is an enormous fair at the Fair Grounds outside of Des Moines. It runs for two weeks and is attended by over 100,000 people. The reunion program suggested going to the State Fair on the third day, so we went.

 

One reason to go to the Fair are the animals. Horses, cows, goats, chickens, dogs, rabbits — anything that has been domesticated is there showing off its best qualities, whether it is obedience, gorgeous fur, huge muscles, shiny coats, or just plain hugeness. This is the Big Boar, who weighs 1500 pounds. A woman farmer who was showing at 1250 pound boar in the next pen said that there was nothing special about her guy; he just kept eating and kept growing. Yes, they can stand up and walk, but they spend a lot of time sleeping.

Big Pig

Walking down the center road of the fair, we heard a trumpet playing reveille. I suspected that this was a signal of something ceremonial so I climbed a small slope and found myself looking down into an amphitheater. The crowd in the bleacher seats was just sitting down. It was part of an honor-the-veterans interlude. Then a woman sang a patriotic song – not the national anthem, but something different, and a band came onstage carrying smashed garbage can lids and tin cans as instruments. They were wearing a semi-military guerilla soldier outfit: black boots, puffy-leg black pants, big belts, bare chests under vests, wild haircuts and black rags tied sweat-band Rambo-style around their foreheads. This is the costume of hooligans, bad boys, gangsters and bullies. Pull a balaclava on and you’ve got an ISIS decapitation video costume. Then they started singing. The words of the song were about “I love my freedom” and “I love my country.” It was as if they were saying, “In America today, the true patriots are the bad boys who do desperate, violent, things.” Love of country is a violent, desperate, rebellious emotion. The enemy, they seemed to be saying, is among us.

 

I looked at the audience to see how they were feeling. There was nothing about their behavior that suggested that this performance was meant to be taken ironically. They shouted and raised their fists. Joe said it looked like a pep rally at Roosevelt in the old days; mindless nationalism grown up, with guns.

I love my freedom

 

This country is disturbed. People can shake their fists and shout “I love my freedom,” but they don’t talk to the person next to them. As a visitor, you’d never know there’s an election going on. No discussion. No yard signs, for example. Not a one. We visited Joe’s cousins 100 miles to the east, in Williamsburg, Iowa. No yard signs there, either. People don’t talk about politics there, say his cousins.
Wrecking the Special Ed Curriculum

I asked this guy if I could take a picture of his T-shirt and he said yes. He said it was a size 6-X and he had to buy it on Facebook, since he has a hard time finding his size. The writing says, “Have you ever seen a handgun shot from moving motorcycle? Just keep riding my ass!”

handgun

At one point I was blaming the rise of Trump voters on the destruction of our education system. De-fund education, and what do you expect? Of course it’s more than that, but here’s an example of how bad things are in schools.

One of Joe’s cousins, Anne, a special ed teacher, talked about how her work has changed. The state education system has privatized the curriculum. Now, instead of relying on the teachers to know how to teach, they buy commercially produced “programs” and the teachers have to follow them, word for word. The teacher tells the student things from the script and then the student takes the test. This is all part of the “No Child Left Behind” federal agenda that focuses on test scores. If the scores don’t go up under one program, the state buys another one and the teachers have to switch to the new one.

Anne gave three examples of how meaningless and wrong-headed are the tests that she has to give. Students get one minute to read out loud as many words as possible. “Reading” means pronouncing – nothing else, no comprehension, no understanding or learning, just “de-coding.” So Anne starts the timer and the first case, a little girl begins – but first she heaves a great deep sigh, to calm down. The sigh costs her three or four seconds, so her score goes down and she fails the test. Another little boy reads along fine but when he comes to a word that makes him think about something else, he starts commenting on it to the teacher – and loses more seconds. A third little boy is too short to really see the test, which is taped to a flat table. He can’t read what he can’t see. He fails the test. Anne will get him a stool to stand on for the next time he takes this test.

Anne says teachers hate this approach and feel de-professionalized, but they despair of taking any action against it. So where are these kids whose single opportunity to learn has been choked off by these “education reforms”?

Back in Berkeley

Hillary Clinton has disappeared from my media feed since the convention. All I get from her people is fundraising requests. I believe that she’s serious and works very hard and that people who are close to her trust her. I will vote for her. But we need some leadership to counter Trump. This is not a good time for her to go invisible. She has done three fundraising events with the super rich in CA in two days or so, with one public appearance in swing-state Nevada, but who knows what she is saying at these events.

We are hosting a “Watch Bernie” event at our house in Berkeley tomorrow night. We’re expecting 15-16 people. I’ll make some food and figure out how to stream the broadcast through my laptop into the flatscreen TV. Bernie is expected to talk about what comes next and the new organization he has founded, Our Revolution.

A Good Night’s Sleep — June 26, 2016

A Good Night’s Sleep

 

Two chairs

There are two wooden Adirondack chairs sitting out in the middle of the grass, far enough away from the road and nearby houses to feel like an island in the  middle of a peaceful grass pond. In the daytime, I can sit in one of these chairs and hear the river, watch the wind in the leaves of the tall trees over along the road, study the clouds and follow birds that flit from the telephone wire to the tops of the apple trees or flap honking across the sky way up high.  On either side the mountains, South Hill and the hill called Worden Road Hill, rise up steeply; that’s why the river is where it is.

Last night  we came back from a movie in Manchester (“Maggie’s Plan,” exactly as advertised, a serious romantic comedy, with Greta Gerwig) and I went and sat in one of those chairs and looked at the stars. Despite the streetlight over by the road — it’s a new LED light and focuses down rather than glowing all around — it was possible to look up and get lost. I have never — not since I can remember, anyway — lived for long in a place where you could really see the stars. On a few camping trips I’ve been too tired to stay awake. I climb into the tent vaguely aware that something amazing is going on up above. But here I can lean back in this wooden chair and just stare and stare. I don’t know the names of what I’m seeing, and I wish I did. I can see the Big DIpper but which of the stars that the handle points to is the North Star? I should know that. I could see the Milky Way, though. My grasp of the Milky Way is basically what’s on that famous T-shirt, “You are here.”

We have been here a little more than three weeks. I am starting to calm down. Days consist of yoga, breakfast, reading, email, writing, email, lunch, a bike ride — often up to Pike’s Falls – reading, writing, dinner, reading, maybe watching Borgen or Outlander, reading, bed.  In the middle one of us goes next door to the store and buys something, a bottle of wine, a newspaper, some kale. Once or twice a week we drive to Brattleboro. On Friday nights we go to the Townshend Farmer’s Market where we see people we know, meet people we don’t know, and eat great pizza cooked in their stone outdoor oven. Sometimes LInda and Roger have their stall up, selling Abenaki jewelry and art goods. Usually Albert Litchfield III is there, too – he makes everything, from laundry soap to mosquito repellent to vinegar, and also sells eggs, bread and ham (from the pigs he raises out among the stacks of wooden picnic tables that are his main income). On Tuesdays and Thursdays we go to the Jamaica library, a white clapboard building behind the church, with a lively children’s room and a peaceful, high-ceilinged reading room full of old and new books.

We are working on the organizing and collective bargaining handbook for VInh, a popular education gathering in San Francisco on July 8 and 9, a session for Local 2121 to prepare members for a strike in the fall, and an event for our friends from Mexico, Maria Theresa and Arturo Ramos, who will come at the end of July and can present a close-up, comprehensible picture of the crisis in higher education in Mexico.

Pikes falls 2016

PIke’s Falls on a sunny Saturday afternoon. There is no sign; you park near where you see other cars, and find your way down a steep path. On the weekends, the people are a lot of out-of-staters. The sun is very hot and the water is very cold; the best. 

In Vermont I am able to read long books. I have read the entire Robert Frost collected poems from 1930, Michael Chabon’s Telegraph Avenue (not great), and a good book called The Theater of War. I am deep into Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan Quartet. I have finished the first two volumes. She and her main characters are my generation, born in 1944 (I was born in 1943), children of WWII, only in Italy. It’s shocking to recognize how closely my own story runs to the story she writes. The assumptions behind the power of men over women are perfectly familiar to me, as are the assumptions about what the paths for girls to security and success look like. Who would believe it if I said that a girl who goes to Harvard as a freshman in 1961 will have an experience of male hegemony, both intellectually and physically, not that different from the experience of a girl from the slums of Naples?  I think most of today’s young women and men would find this inconceivable. I do not plan to list moments from my own experience, and the experience of other girls of my generation, that substantiate this claim. But how about this: When I was at Stanford on a Stegner Fellowship (a big deal), a New York literary agent offered to represent me and one of the things we did was choose a man’s name for me to use as a pseudonym. This would have been in 1966-67. If I remember correctly, all the names I proposed (I sent her a list) were very Jewish: Moses this, Simon that…By the time  my first novel was going around in the late 1970s’, it was under my own name.

This morning, having finished the second volume of Ferrante’s quartet, I opened the next book I had on my list, a book I had ordered from the library soon after we got here to be my “long book” for this month: Gibbons’ Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.  The volume I got was a 1952 Great Books of the Western World edition, and on the inside cover there was a list of all the other books in the series. Fresh from Ferrante, I read the list as if I was turning over a rock and finding a complete and perfect but dead insect: all men. Every one of them.Not Sappho, not Jane Austen, not George Eliot, not Virginia Woolf.

I reacted in two ways The first was a flashback, the second was shaped by having spent the last week reading Ferrante.

The first felt like being back at Harvard in 1962, walking around among the men, the men’s buildings, the men’s statues, men’s clubs, men’s books and equipment. I felt unemotional acknowledgement, like arriving at a building and finding all the doors locked; it’s closed, it’s after 5 pm, of course. Well, never mind. Not anger, which might suggest that things could be otherwise. Just, “Oh, these are men’s books,” period. Not a hint of thinking that the category “great books” might not be synonymous with “things men wrote.”

My second reaction came a moment later, when I read the brief introduction, giving a quick overview of Gibbon’s life. It was written in a distinctively accessible, even chatty style, as if the author was speaking about someone he had known personally, a slightly troublesome but amusing second cousin, and sharing this private view with us, his privileged listeners. The emphasis was not at all on the labor required to produce this monumental history. Instead, it was on Gibbon the person, “unprepossesing,” under his father’s thumb, disliked by Boswell, a member of the House of Commons who never spoke once (although it was during the American Revolution) and holding a sinecure with the Board of Trade and ultimately, unable to “maintain his life in London” he “arranged to live in Lausanne with his life-long friend, George Deyverdun.” “Life-long friend” is 1952 code for gay, which probably has something to do with the tone of the piece, which to me, today, seems smug. But if I had read this at the time it was published (and by the late 1950’s I was likely to do that kind of thing, just like the narrator in Ferrante’s novels), it would have been code that I could not break. I would have felt confused by the tone of the article. Why was everyone having a snicker about Gibbon? But that snicker  had power; it created an in-group and and out-group, unless you could break the code — or unless you were one of the people who wrote the code – you were not in the club of those who knew. I am now thinking of Elena’s experience in the third Ferrante novel, when her own novel is meeting her first critics and readers.

Now, from reading these novels,  it is as if the door that I had found locked was a glass door, not a giant oak or bronze door the way they are in real life: it was glass and I could not only see through it but I could see it. The glass was something in itself, something that could be looked at. It had shine, smears, discolorations, depth. I suddenly realized (this is all this morning, while I’m sitting on the deck in the bright sun, with cornbread cooking in the oven and Joe getting out the apple butter and honey) that it was reading Ferrante that had enabled me to actually see the glass itself. In her novels, the glass is always present in the perspective of the narrator. The narrator carries the glass with her and sets it in front of her when she describes a scene, whether its swimming in the sea, riding the bus, working in a shop, getting married, having sex — everything. The glass, thick and heavy, compressed out of the power relationships between men and women, is never pulled away. Not that she talks about it directly. She just makes sure it is always right in front of us. Through it we see clearly the busy, terrible and courageous actions and we hear clearly the intense, pivotal conversations of her multitudinous characters. Yes, sometimes the glass is darker and gives us a darker picture; sometimes the glass is colorless and hardly visible. But it is never missing.

If you spend enough time in her writing, you can produce that glass yourself and use it to look at things with. That’s what happened to me, unawares, when I read the introduction to the 1952 edition of Gibbon.

I have bought and started the third volume and will read it on the plane going back to California next Saturday. We’ll have Isabelle and her friend Chloe with us. They arrive tomorrow, on the train from NY after a week exploring Manhattan and staying with Chloe’s aunt and uncle who have an apartment there.

Rose bush going nuts 2016

I trimmed these roses when I was here in April, when everything was gray and leafless and pretty grim. I cut them way back and pulled out all the dead stems. Now they’ve gone crazy. This is the most bloom I’ve ever seen on them. They smell great.

I sleep better here than anywhere else. Look at these beautiful eggs!!!

Nice eggs_1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

June 7, 2016 — June 8, 2016

June 7, 2016

Dad's letters

A year’s worth of reading: Letters, 1930-1939

I have been writing this for over a year now. We are in Vermont (again). Beautiful hot weather when the sun is out; chilly enough for a wood stove fire when it’s not. Deep quiet; I can hear individual cars coming down Jamaica Mountain and passing through the village. I can hear voices from somewhere up in the village. Also birds. A cardinal sat on the telephone wire, cackling and whistling.  Something large slept in the raspberries last night, leaving a mashed area the size of a king bed.

Down in Brattleboro, 23 miles southeast following the river, they have an annual celebration of the dairy industry called “The Strolling of the Heifers.”  Here’s a moment from the parade last Saturday: kids with cows from their family herds. There were many booths with people selling jewelry, jam and baked goods. No evidence of actual farm workers, as a letter to the Brattleboro Reformer pointed out a few days later. It’s a tourist event.

Cow parade

My various writing assignments are quieting down and I am bit by bit more able to read “long things,” whole books, whole academic papers. I have read the whole of a book by Bryan Dorries, The Theater of War, (Knopf 2015), nearly all of Robert Frost’s collected poems (as of 1930), and the second volume of a wonderful fantasy series with dragons by Naomi Rovik. Something I like to do in Vermont is read whole books.

I am thinking more, not less, about Viet Nam as time goes by. I’m in email touch with 3 or 4 people there; I want to refresh my contacts with others. I see many students on Facebook; it looks as if they’re vacation these days, posing near beaches. Joe and I are working through the Handbook (the collective bargaining/organizing teaching handbook). We got stalled when Joe took two classes at City College and had to spend time with that. The first section of the handbook has been sent to Vinh for translation.

In the meantime, Obama has been to Viet Nam “to rapturous” response (according to the US press). Vinh was invited to his Town Hall meeting in HCMC. Obama has promised a “free flow” of arms to Viet Nam, as if there weren’t enough unexploded bombs in the rice paddies  — and cities, too — already. This agreement to sell weapons to Viet Nam is related to the tension with China.  Bob Kerrey, who led a massacre during the American war, has been appointed to the Board of the new Fulbright University. There is some discussion about this, not a lot, in the press here.

Hollis has had heart surgery; he has a new mitral valve and is now home, recovering. We went down to Monterey Bay to see Angie Ngoc Tran and her husband, Joe Lubow, and had  great long evening of intense conversation. And the California primary is today. Amazingly, but not surprisingly, the Associated Press ( a news agency) did a “survey”, called up uncommitted superdelegates to the Democratic convention and “found out” that enough were planning to vote for Hilary so that in effect, she has won the primary — the day before the California (and 6 other states) actually vote.  One can always be amazed at new strategic moves!! People will confuse a survey with an election, and seem to be doing so already. Will this affect turnout? Or will people who were saying, “Oh, Bernie can’t win so I’ll vote for Hilary to prevent Trump from winning,” now say, “OK, she’s won already so I’ll vote for the person I really want”? I actually believe that everything possible will be done to stop Bernie.

(Note from July 8, the day after: Hilary won California, 56% to 43%. Click on individual states at http://www.nytimes.com/elections/results in order to see how things shifted as the votes came in.)

On our way here we changed planes in Las Vegas. I looked into the smoker’s lounge. There are slot machines everywhere; in this one, you can smoke and slot at the same time. Throw it all away at once, why not? These are people who I assume would be Trump supporters. Nihilists, content to risk it all for the sake of a spinning wheel, some bright lights.

smoking Vegas airport

It’s beautiful here in Vermont, but people in my generation are dying. I went to the Lady’s Benefit lunch last week, eleven or twelve women over 60, holding a meeting in the church and sharing pot luck, mostly salads. The stories were about husbands  who are ill or dying in nursing homes. Dale Ameden, Karen’s husband, died about a week ago, after 8 years of illness. I remember him as a quiet, strong, good-looking guy. Their romance was the talk of the town at the time, and they produced 5 kids, now all grown or at least graduated. Karen is working in the store every day, seems to be moving in slow motion, taking deep breaths, says she’s doing fine.

Property, Political and Civil Rights

Hilary gave me an article to read which although it’s  a draft (2015) is available on the web at http://drodrik.scholar.harvard.edu/files/dani-rodrik/files/the_political_economy_of_liberal_democracy.pdf

Mukand and Rodrik propose three categories of rights: property rights, political rights, and civil rights. Property rights are a concern of the elite: the right to the private ownership of property is a right extracted from the king’s total ownership of everything (like the Magna Carta).  Political rights are a concern of the majority, the right to be counted among the people who, because of their numbers, are the decision-makers in a society. These rights are voting rights, extracted from the elite on the principal that the majority wins (the elite being, by defnition, not the majority). Civil rights are the concern of a minority; the right to be treated equally or protected despite not being either among the elite or in the majority. Mukand and Rodrik say that most of the time, civil rights and political rights are bundled together; this makes it hard to see what deals can be made when the interests of the majority and the minority coincide, for example, against the elite, or when the interests of the elite and the majority coincide against the minority. They want to be able to consider what happens in a country when it goes through transitions (that’s how this relates to Viet Nam). They are asking how it happens that the share of democracies is increasing world-wide (from about 15 in 1950 to about 82 in 2005, according to their figures), why most of these are electoral democracies (run by majorities) and why liberal democracies (in which civil rights are protected) are so fragile.

They offer South Korea, Lebanon (before 1975) and South Africa as case studies of liberal democracies (not the US). South Korea became a liberal democracy because of a powerful labor movement; Lebanon was a “cosociational” government, with power distributed among three religious groups; and South Africa became a liberal democracy (respecting the rights of minorities and establishing majority rule) because the minority happened to be identical with the elite; the white Afrikaners were both the elite and the minority. All three transitioned to a liberal democracy. The authors want to know what pushes a transition in that direction (what makes liberal democracy the “downhill” into which power flows).

They write, in their conclusion:

The crucial building block of our analysis is a taxonomy of political regimes, based on a tripartite division of rights: property rights, political rights, and civil rights. We have argued that these rights operate across two fundamental types of cleavage in society: an elite/non-elite cleavage that is largely economic or class-based, and a majority/minority cleavage that typically revolves around the politics of identity. Property rights are important to the elite; political rights empower the majority; and civil rights protect the minority. Liberal democracy requires all three sets of rights, while the bargains that produce electoral democracy generate only the first two. 

Democratic transitions rely on the resolution of conflict between the elite and the masses. Our central message is that in the presence of additional cleavages — identity cleavages in particular — this resolution does little, in general, to promote liberal politics. The stars must be aligned just right for liberal democracy to emerge. The rarity of liberal democracy is not surprising.

I am thinking about this on the day of the Democratic primary in California (with the AP announcing Hilary’s victory before the vote). I am also thinking about the transitions going on in Viet Nam.

Here, the Hilary supporters are going for an electoral win that unites the elite and the majority. The majority in our case refers to the majority of people who vote, who are predominantly middle class as compared to poor and/or ethnic minority. The minority means people who may be the most in number (“the 99%”) but who either have never exercised voting  power equivalent to their numbers, or who have been systematically excluded from political power by voter suppression, such as we have seen in the recent primaries. Focusing on the preferences of the majority cuts out the needs of the minority, which include basic public goods such as universal healthcare, public transportation, safe drinking water and free higher education, for example. (I am thinking of the roads, electricity, schools and water that we saw in the villages in Sapa.) These are all on the list that Bernie makes, in every speech.

Hilary has made common cause between the majority and the elite and their money, but the race is tight enough that they – Hilary’s campaign –  doesn’t trust the vote; they send the AP to go do a survey of super delegates and pre-empt the outcome of today’s primary. This is why Bernie talks about his campaign as being a political revolution.

I would say that in the US, we have property rights and limited political rights but not civil rights — not as long as the police can shoot people and nothing happens to them; not as long as we have the death penalty and “detainees” in Guantanamo. But a regime that lacks civil rights is an electoral, il-liberal democracy: majority rule and the hell with the rest of you. Or it can be a right-wing autocracy, which is what Trump is going for — property rights only, no civil rights and no electoral rights.

Mukand and Rodrick write out these relationships using Greek symbols and equations, and then chart them on x-y axes in order to show where the possible zones converge that allow alliances and compromises. I am not actually sure how they can do this without using numbers. But their conclusions — they show that the zone of alliance that can pull the minority and majority together against the elite is small –is provocative. It mainly shows how hard it is  (and thus what a great job Bernie’s campaign has been doing).

So what kind of democracy is taking place in Viet Nam? At the end of the American war, I think Viet Nam was what Mukand and Rodrik would call a political regime organized as “democratic communism” which means a political system that respects civil rights and political rights but not property rights. Is it an electoral democracy today? I am not a good judge of the way voting takes place in Viet Nam. I have had it described to me, and I have seen evidence of Party Congresses, and I know that a certain small number of non-Party people participate in a National Assembly which is elected every 5 years and in turn elects the President, but I do not really know how it works or what what you have to do or be in order to participate. So I can’t comment further on the “political rights” aspect. Also, I am only too aware of how distorted political rights are here in the US to be a judge of what goes on in Viet Nam. So, let’s start with democratic communism. Probably beginning with doi moi in 1986, Viet Nam began to move toward recognizing property rights; businesses could be privately owned, etc. Even today, all the land in Viet Nam is owned by the government or the nation, and is leased out for use. So, with the spread of property rights, does Viet Nam become a liberal democracy (where civil rights, political rights and property rights all combine?) or a liberal autocracy, where the masses of people have civil rights and property rights, but few political rights?

All of these are on a spectrum, all of them are in transition (because there is a struggle going on over all of them) and all of them tangle together like plot lines in a novel. The current election has surfaced many issues that were treated as concerns of the minority; it turns out that inequality has increased so much that now they are majority issues, too. This  mainly means that the fight will get tougher, or, as Bernie says, “The struggle continues.”

Barn attic

I went up into the attic of the barn to measure the dimensions of a chair to have cushions made. This chair was used by my grandfather when he was a student at Amherst College in 1900. After I took the measurements, and realized that the chair itself may be too fragile to be used even if it gets re-glued, I decided to proceed with a major project that I engage in every time I come to Vermont: opening another box.

The first box I opened contained 6 or 8 matched volumes of works by Victor Hugo in red bindings. Some were sections of Les Miserables. There was also The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Han of Iceland, and Ninety-Three, which I’d never heard of. I took these down to the house and read quite a bit of Ninety-Three, which means 1793 and is about the counter-revolution invasion of France, supported by England, that attempted to overthrow the government set up by the French Revolution. Long speeches by leaders on the aristocrat and revolutionary sides express conflicting world views exhaustively.

The second box contained letters from my father to his mother.

It looks as  if they cover the years 1930 – 1939. Many letters back from her as well, and some from his sister Talitha. I had no idea these existed. A year’s worth of reading, if such a thing is imaginable.

The third box contained vertical files labeled Viet Nam, Cuba, China, etc. They are full of newspaper, newsletter and magazine articles. Here are some photos  of the April 7, 1967 issue of LIFE magazine that had a spread of photos by Lee Lockwood taken during a month-long visit to North Viet Nam earlier that year.

Life cover

Life photo villages

Life Mag prisoners

Life photos Hanoi

We will go through all this, thinking about what might be of value at the War Remnants Museum in HCMC.