newyorker--2020-06-13--Spike Lee’s “Da 5 Bloods,” Reviewed: Vietnam and the Never-Ending War of Being Black in America

History is power .
That ’ s why the removal and destruction of statues devoted to Confederate leaders , slave owners , Jim Crow politicians , and other architects of American hatred going back to Columbus are not a sidebar but a principled core of the nationwide protests that have arisen in response to the police killing of George Floyd and other black men and women—because those protests are challenging the entire history of racist police violence and the long-standing society-wide policies and prejudices that have been used to justify it .
But history is also memory—a matter of whose @ @ @ @ @ @ @ are recorded , which communities ’ experiences are officially chosen to represent a neighborhood , a city , a state , the country .
Spike Lee ’ s new film , “ Da 5 Bloods ” ( streaming on Netflix ) , pulls the traumas of black men ’ s experiences of the Vietnam War out of obscurity and puts them in the forefront of political consciousness .
Far from merely offering a corrective or footnote to a chapter of American history , he transforms them into a new and improved cinematic mythology @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of black Americans and creates a place for them at the center of modern culture—and , in the process , redefines American heroism as such .
The film tells the the story of four Vietnam War veterans and lifelong friends , distanced but not estranged , who regroup in Ho Chi Minh City with a dual mission : to recover the body of their former commanding officer and to collect a stash of gold bars that they ’ d buried after the firefight in which he was killed .
When the four veterans @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a hangout movie , and the leisurely pace of the early scenes—centered principally on the men at a table in a bar behind the loud throng at a night club called Apocalypse Now—is outrun by the mercurial dialogue , the memories that arise , the traumas that come to the fore .
“ Da 5 Bloods ” runs two hours and thirty-four minutes , but it ’ s not a second too long .
On the contrary , it feels compressed , bustling , and frenzied with its intellectual and dramatic energy .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ it—is intense , furious , yet parsed with a magisterial assurance , in images that range from the sculpturally iconic to the screen-piercingly intimate .
The teeming profusion of events that Lee dramatizes is inseparable from the historiography that he foregrounds throughout .
Both are brought to life with an intricately varied texture of dialogue and gesture , purpose and spirit—a crucial aspect of Lee ’ s career-long artistry that , here , reaches new heights , thanks to an extraordinary cast of actors who blend fervor and nuance , and whom Lee @ @ @ @ @ @ @ by Lee and Kevin Willmott , who reworked an original version by Danny Bilson and Paul De Meo—offers the actors a dazzling emotional spectrum , from sublime profanity and rowdy ball-breaking to soul-baring confrontation and quasi-scriptural exaltation .
Otis ( Clarke Peters ) , who ’ s running the expedition from behind the scenes , has an air of quiet authority .
Melvin ( Isiah Whitlock , Jr. ) , the least defined of the group , is something of its skeptical conscience .
Eddie ( Norm Lewis ) is a glad-handing businessman @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s also an image-maker , travelling with a 35mm .
S.L.R .
and a Super-8 camera ) .
The big and gruff Paul ( Delroy Lindo ) , one of the most distinctive characters in recent cinema , is a Trump supporter , complete with MAGA cap , who thinks that immigrants are taking jobs from black people .
Paul ’ s political position is roundly mocked by his friends , but they soon learn that he is deeply damaged : suffering from P.T.S.D .
and carrying the agony of his commanding @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and angry over the death of his wife , in childbirth ; and in the grips of self-scourging rage that allow him no reconciliation with the Vietnamese people .
The festive yet solemn warmth of the first dramatic sequence , of the men ’ s reunion at the hotel lobby and the bar , is built upon a brief history lesson , a montage of clips that connect black American activists and the struggle for civil rights to opposition to the Vietnam War and the denunciation of the American atrocities perpetrated there—and of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ them .
That history then gets dramatized throughout the film in one of Lee ’ s boldest dramatic strokes : the men ’ s wartime experiences—and , in particular , the events that led to the death in combat of their leader , Norman—recur as flashbacks throughout .
For these flashbacks , Lee shifts the borders of the widescreen action to the narrower , nearly square , traditional Hollywood ( and TV ) aspect ratio .
He also films the four older actors as their younger selves in the wartime action with no @ @ @ @ @ @ @ recur from the perspective of the older men who lived them , alongside Norman , perpetually frozen in youth .
Norman ’ s absence is matched by the presence , on the expedition , of another young man who shows up uninvited : David ( Jonathan Majors ) , Paul ’ s estranged son , a schoolteacher ( and a Morehouse graduate , like Lee ) who hopes to finally reconcile with his father .
Though Paul wants to send him home , the men—led by Otis , who is David ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s leadership extends to the particulars of the treasure hunt : Tiên ( Lê Y Lan ) , a Vietnamese woman with whom Otis had a relationship while stationed in Saigon , and who is the mother of a daughter ( Sandy Huong Pham ) whom he had never met , connects the four veterans with a suave French grifter ( Jean Reno ) , who will launder—for a hefty fee—whatever gold they find .
( Tiên also secretly provides Otis with a handgun , which of course will play a major @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s through the character of Norman , a.k.a .
Stormin ’ Norman ( Chadwick Boseman ) , seen in the flashbacks , that Lee delivers some of his crucial history lessons .
Telling David about Norman , Otis details the backstory to Norman ’ s command : the disregard of white officers for black draftees , who were thrust callously into harm ’ s way , used as cannon fodder .
Norman , Otis explains , was a supreme soldier who passed his skills and wiles along to the other four men @ @ @ @ @ @ @ or patriotic duty but of their survival .
Norman was himself a student of history who gave the men an ideological focus ( “ He was our Malcolm and our Martin , ” Otis says ) and put it into play on the battlefield : “ War is about money , money is about war , ” Norman told them , and likened their treatment by the military command to their treatment by the police back home .
Norman ’ s body was never found ; the gold was hidden at his behest @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Army as payment for South Vietnamese fighters ; the plane that carried it crashed ; the outfit was tasked with finding it ; and Norman ’ s idea was to hide it and come back for it , as compensation for the sacrifices of black soldiers in a racist war and payment long overdue for the history of oppression endured by black Americans—as reparations , he called it .
The men ’ s mission to find Norman ’ s remains is also a mission to honor his intentions—which happen to coincide with their @ @ @ @ @ @ @ course , what the four veterans and David discover is that money is indeed war—that , in pursuing and transporting millions of dollars ’ worth of gold , they are sparking a new round of horrific violence , and , in effect , not merely returning to the scene of their war but reviving and reliving it .

History is power. That’s why the removal and destruction of statues devoted to Confederate leaders, slave owners, Jim Crow politicians, and other architects of American hatred going back to Columbus are not a sidebar but a principled core of the nationwide protests that have arisen in response to the police killing of George Floyd and other black men and women—because those protests are challenging the entire history of racist police violence and the long-standing society-wide policies and prejudices that have been used to justify it. But history is also memory—a matter of whose voices are heard, whose personal experiences are recorded, which communities’ experiences are officially chosen to represent a neighborhood, a city, a state, the country.
Spike Lee’s new film, “Da 5 Bloods” (streaming on Netflix), pulls the traumas of black men’s experiences of the Vietnam War out of obscurity and puts them in the forefront of political consciousness. Far from merely offering a corrective or footnote to a chapter of American history, he transforms them into a new and improved cinematic mythology, one that exalts the unacknowledged heroism of black Americans and creates a place for them at the center of modern culture—and, in the process, redefines American heroism as such.
The film tells the the story of four Vietnam War veterans and lifelong friends, distanced but not estranged, who regroup in Ho Chi Minh City with a dual mission: to recover the body of their former commanding officer and to collect a stash of gold bars that they’d buried after the firefight in which he was killed. When the four veterans gather, the tone is that of a hangout movie, and the leisurely pace of the early scenes—centered principally on the men at a table in a bar behind the loud throng at a night club called Apocalypse Now—is outrun by the mercurial dialogue, the memories that arise, the traumas that come to the fore.
“Da 5 Bloods” runs two hours and thirty-four minutes, but it’s not a second too long. On the contrary, it feels compressed, bustling, and frenzied with its intellectual and dramatic energy. The action—and there’s plenty of it—is intense, furious, yet parsed with a magisterial assurance, in images that range from the sculpturally iconic to the screen-piercingly intimate. The teeming profusion of events that Lee dramatizes is inseparable from the historiography that he foregrounds throughout. Both are brought to life with an intricately varied texture of dialogue and gesture, purpose and spirit—a crucial aspect of Lee’s career-long artistry that, here, reaches new heights, thanks to an extraordinary cast of actors who blend fervor and nuance, and whom Lee directs with manifest inspiration. The script—written by Lee and Kevin Willmott, who reworked an original version by Danny Bilson and Paul De Meo—offers the actors a dazzling emotional spectrum, from sublime profanity and rowdy ball-breaking to soul-baring confrontation and quasi-scriptural exaltation.
Otis (Clarke Peters), who’s running the expedition from behind the scenes, has an air of quiet authority. Melvin (Isiah Whitlock, Jr.), the least defined of the group, is something of its skeptical conscience. Eddie (Norm Lewis) is a glad-handing businessman with bourgeois habits and styles (he’s also an image-maker, travelling with a 35mm. S.L.R. and a Super-8 camera). The big and gruff Paul (Delroy Lindo), one of the most distinctive characters in recent cinema, is a Trump supporter, complete with MAGA cap, who thinks that immigrants are taking jobs from black people. Paul’s political position is roundly mocked by his friends, but they soon learn that he is deeply damaged: suffering from P.T.S.D. and carrying the agony of his commanding officer Norman’s killing; isolated and angry over the death of his wife, in childbirth; and in the grips of self-scourging rage that allow him no reconciliation with the Vietnamese people.
The festive yet solemn warmth of the first dramatic sequence, of the men’s reunion at the hotel lobby and the bar, is built upon a brief history lesson, a montage of clips that connect black American activists and the struggle for civil rights to opposition to the Vietnam War and the denunciation of the American atrocities perpetrated there—and of the white-supremacist ideology that gave rise to them. That history then gets dramatized throughout the film in one of Lee’s boldest dramatic strokes: the men’s wartime experiences—and, in particular, the events that led to the death in combat of their leader, Norman—recur as flashbacks throughout. For these flashbacks, Lee shifts the borders of the widescreen action to the narrower, nearly square, traditional Hollywood (and TV) aspect ratio. He also films the four older actors as their younger selves in the wartime action with no de-aging technology or makeup: the scenes recur from the perspective of the older men who lived them, alongside Norman, perpetually frozen in youth.
Norman’s absence is matched by the presence, on the expedition, of another young man who shows up uninvited: David (Jonathan Majors), Paul’s estranged son, a schoolteacher (and a Morehouse graduate, like Lee) who hopes to finally reconcile with his father. Though Paul wants to send him home, the men—led by Otis, who is David’s godfather—agree to bring him along. Otis’s leadership extends to the particulars of the treasure hunt: Tiên (Lê Y Lan), a Vietnamese woman with whom Otis had a relationship while stationed in Saigon, and who is the mother of a daughter (Sandy Huong Pham) whom he had never met, connects the four veterans with a suave French grifter (Jean Reno), who will launder—for a hefty fee—whatever gold they find. (Tiên also secretly provides Otis with a handgun, which of course will play a major role in the action.)
It’s through the character of Norman, a.k.a. Stormin’ Norman (Chadwick Boseman), seen in the flashbacks, that Lee delivers some of his crucial history lessons. Telling David about Norman, Otis details the backstory to Norman’s command: the disregard of white officers for black draftees, who were thrust callously into harm’s way, used as cannon fodder. Norman, Otis explains, was a supreme soldier who passed his skills and wiles along to the other four men, in the interest not of victory or patriotic duty but of their survival. Norman was himself a student of history who gave the men an ideological focus (“He was our Malcolm and our Martin,” Otis says) and put it into play on the battlefield: “War is about money, money is about war,” Norman told them, and likened their treatment by the military command to their treatment by the police back home.
Norman’s body was never found; the gold was hidden at his behest. It had been sent by the Army as payment for South Vietnamese fighters; the plane that carried it crashed; the outfit was tasked with finding it; and Norman’s idea was to hide it and come back for it, as compensation for the sacrifices of black soldiers in a racist war and payment long overdue for the history of oppression endured by black Americans—as reparations, he called it. The men’s mission to find Norman’s remains is also a mission to honor his intentions—which happen to coincide with their sense of self-interest. Yet, of course, what the four veterans and David discover is that money is indeed war—that, in pursuing and transporting millions of dollars’ worth of gold, they are sparking a new round of horrific violence, and, in effect, not merely returning to the scene of their war but reviving and reliving it.
In “Da 5 Bloods,” Lee revisits and revises his 2008 film, “The Miracle at St. Anna,” also a drama of four black American soldiers, whose doomed mission in Nazi-occupied Italy in 1944 returns to the fore when, in 1984, one of them, a postal clerk, kills a seemingly random customer. The wartime action of that film—flashbacks that take up most of the movie—also dramatizes the deadly indifference that black soldiers endured. (Several key elements are echoed in the new film: a relationship with a local woman, enemy propaganda aimed at black American soldiers, hidden wartime treasure, and a stealthily offered handgun.) The earlier film, however, gives equal weight to local politics in Italy and even in the Nazi ranks, and distills the war’s recurrence to a tale of personal revenge. The essence of “Da 5 Bloods”—a story set entirely within Lee’s own lifetime and memory—is the experience of the Vietnam War and the war’s endurance into the present day, in concealed private wounds and unredressed public and political ones.


newyorker--2020-06-13--How Things Work in a Pandemic

How Things Work in a Pandemic

Limit your number of trips to the store and , when you do shop , don ’ t stockpile .
Consider buying shelf-stable items such as canned vegetables , tuna , rice , the last box of pasta ( likely gluten-free or whole-wheat ) , every kind of bean , frozen fruit , jelly beans just in case those count as beans , coconut shavings because you never know , cat food in case all the human food runs out , fish food in case all the cat food runs out , and a jar of pickles to shove in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ about .
Before you check out , put back that extra pack of toilet paper you panic-grabbed .
C ’ mon—you ’ re better than that !
All e-mails are required to start with the sentence “ I hope this finds you well in these strange and unprecedented times , ” regardless of the fact that absolutely no one is currently “ well.
” None of us are “ well , ” and most of us have probably never been “ well.
” What does “ well ” even mean ?
If someone @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ just following up !
!
!
” you are legally allowed to egg their house .
The longer your Zoom background makes your co-workers chuckle , the longer you reign as “ Daddy ’ s Best Little Zoom Baby.
” Staying connected is important during this time of social isolation .
Reach out to loved ones via group text or video call , or form close relationships with your houseplants .
Your ficus is such a Miranda .
It only took a global pandemic for your parents to stop hounding you about @ @ @ @ @ @ @ her sourdough starter like it ’ s her grandchild .
Also , Tinder is as awful as it was before , times a thousand .
Breakfast , lunch , and dinner are no longer the designated meals of the day .
Now there is “ eating , ” “ not eating , ” and “ thinking about what to eat next.
” Sometimes “ eating ” takes place from dawn until dusk .
Other times , you will just go back and forth between “ eating ” and “ thinking about what to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
You will forever be doing dishes and never stop doing the dishes into infinity .
You don ’ t own your dishes anymore .
The dishes own you .
In lieu of talking about the weather , we will now say things like , “ Is your home hot or cold ?
” Instead of asking about weekend plans , we ’ ll ask each other if we ever remember a time when Saturday felt like a respite .
We do not ask , “ How are you ?
” unless it @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Gossip is still permissible and very much encouraged .
How else will you vent to your lamp about how your fake succulent has been really bitchy lately ?
God , it ’ s such an Aries .
Duvets , blankets , and towels are all acceptable outfits .
Dress shoes are just something you say to make a funny joke .
Bras have gone extinct .
Every day is like the week between Christmas and New Year ’ s—devoid of time or meaning .
Days have no name or number , and months @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ Wait .
.
.
April happened already ?
” ) .
It ’ s always 4 P.M.
It ’ s never not 4 P.M. , and it will always be 4 P.M .
Productivity has never been simpler .
Just lay flat on your face on the floor and hope something happens .
These are now escape pods for feelings .
Have a nice cry , a good scream , or simply sit and stare into the abyss inside your tin box of despair .
It is now a rule that all @ @ @ @ @ @ @ more dad .
They live at Home Depot .
Are they working on D.I.Y .
projects ?
No .
Why are they there ?
Who knows .
As orgasmic as ever .

Grocery Shopping
Limit your number of trips to the store and, when you do shop, don’t stockpile. Consider buying shelf-stable items such as canned vegetables, tuna, rice, the last box of pasta (likely gluten-free or whole-wheat), every kind of bean, frozen fruit, jelly beans just in case those count as beans, coconut shavings because you never know, cat food in case all the human food runs out, fish food in case all the cat food runs out, and a jar of pickles to shove in the back of your fridge and forget about. Before you check out, put back that extra pack of toilet paper you panic-grabbed. C’mon—you’re better than that!
E-mails
All e-mails are required to start with the sentence “I hope this finds you well in these strange and unprecedented times,” regardless of the fact that absolutely no one is currently “well.” None of us are “well,” and most of us have probably never been “well.” What does “well” even mean? If someone sends you an e-mail with the phrase “just following up!!!” you are legally allowed to egg their house.
Zoom Backgrounds
The longer your Zoom background makes your co-workers chuckle, the longer you reign as “Daddy’s Best Little Zoom Baby.”
Having Friends
Staying connected is important during this time of social isolation. Reach out to loved ones via group text or video call, or form close relationships with your houseplants. Your ficus is such a Miranda.
Dating
It only took a global pandemic for your parents to stop hounding you about getting married. Now your mom treats her sourdough starter like it’s her grandchild. Also, Tinder is as awful as it was before, times a thousand.
Meals
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are no longer the designated meals of the day. Now there is “eating,” “not eating,” and “thinking about what to eat next.” Sometimes “eating” takes place from dawn until dusk. Other times, you will just go back and forth between “eating” and “thinking about what to eat next” until you pass out.
Doing the Dishes
You will forever be doing dishes and never stop doing the dishes into infinity. You don’t own your dishes anymore. The dishes own you.
Small Talk
In lieu of talking about the weather, we will now say things like, “Is your home hot or cold?” Instead of asking about weekend plans, we’ll ask each other if we ever remember a time when Saturday felt like a respite. We do not ask, “How are you?” unless it’s meant to be ironic. Gossip is still permissible and very much encouraged. How else will you vent to your lamp about how your fake succulent has been really bitchy lately? God, it’s such an Aries.
Clothing
Duvets, blankets, and towels are all acceptable outfits. Dress shoes are just something you say to make a funny joke. Bras have gone extinct.
Days
Every day is like the week between Christmas and New Year’s—devoid of time or meaning. Days have no name or number, and months exist only in hindsight (e.g., “Wait . . . April happened already?”).
Time
It’s always 4 P.M. It’s never not 4 P.M., and it will always be 4 P.M.
Productivity
Productivity has never been simpler. Just lay flat on your face on the floor and hope something happens.
Cars
These are now escape pods for feelings. Have a nice cry, a good scream, or simply sit and stare into the abyss inside your tin box of despair.
Dads
It is now a rule that all dads have become a thousand per cent more dad. They live at Home Depot. Are they working on D.I.Y. projects? No. Why are they there? Who knows.
At-Home Workouts
Hahahahahaha.
Cancelling Plans
As orgasmic as ever.


newyorker--2020-06-14--An American Spring of Reckoning

An American Spring of Reckoning

Consider for a moment how the events of May 25th through June 9th—the days of democratic bedlam in the streets , bracketed by the death and the burial of George Floyd—would appear had they occurred in some distant nation that most Americans have heard of but might not be able to find on a map .
Consider that , in the midst of a pandemic whose toll was magnified by government incompetence , a member of a long-exploited ethnic minority was killed by the state , in an act defined by its casual sadism .
Demonstrators pour into the streets @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in a scene that is soon repeated in city after city .
The police arrest members of the media reporting the story .
The President cites a threat to law and order , and federal agents are dispatched to disrupt protests in the nation ’ s capital , using tear gas and a military helicopter .
These acts further erode his already tenuous position , prompting church leaders to rebuke him , and decorated generals to question his fitness for office .
In such a scenario , the lines of conflict gain new @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
American commentators would compare the successive nights of protests to the Iranian uprisings of 2009 and the Arab Spring of 2011 .
The U.S. State Department , depending on its allegiances , might surreptitiously aid the protesters .
We would all recognize the moment as the product of a traumatized society .
Now consider a different idea , that the death of George Floyd did occur in another country : the traumatized version of America inhabited by black people .
Fifty-two years ago , following the storm of riots that swept through @ @ @ @ @ @ @ report noted that “ our nation is moving toward two societies—one black , one white , separate and unequal.
” Today , the weight of grief and poverty in this country still falls disproportionately on black shoulders .
The eight minutes and forty-six seconds during which a Minneapolis police officer killed George Floyd as three others looked on can not be understood outside the context of a pandemic in which African-Americans have died at three times the rate of white Americans .
The chaotic , angry , defiant tableaux in the streets of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ New York , Philadelphia , Oakland , Atlanta , Chicago , Houston , Louisville , San Francisco , Indianapolis , Charleston , Detroit , Baltimore , and beyond represent a reckoning , a kind of American Spring , one long in the making and ignited not just by a single police killing .
In death , George Floyd ’ s name has become a metaphor for the stacked inequities of the society that produced them .
Race , to the degree that it represents anything coherent in the United States , is shorthand @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
The inequalities between black and white Americans are documented in rates of morbidity and infant mortality , wealth , and unemployment , which attest that although race may be a biological fiction , its reality is seen in what is likely to happen in our lives .
The more than forty million people of African descent who live in the United States recognize this reality , but it ’ s largely invisible in the lives of white Americans .
As with men , who , upon seeing the scroll of # MeToo @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , sisters , and co-workers , “ Is it really that bad ?
, ” the shock of revelation that attended the video of Floyd ’ s death is itself a kind of inequality , a barometer of the extent to which one group of Americans have moved through life largely free from the burden of such terrible knowledge .
At a congressional hearing last Wednesday , Philonise Floyd said that he hoped his brother would be “ more than a face on a T‑shirt , more than a name on a list @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The Reverend Al Sharpton cited that list , of the wrongfully dead , in the eulogy that he delivered at Floyd ’ s funeral , naming Ahmaud Arbery , Breonna Taylor , Eric Garner , Trayvon Martin .
He could have gone on : Jordan Davis , Rekia Boyd , Freddie Gray , Tamir Rice .
A sentiment common among many African-Americans is that these people lived and died in Black America , which is a different place from America at large—and that their deaths , most of which came at the hands @ @ @ @ @ @ @ reality , even though a significant number of white Americans were skeptical of its existence .
The demographics of the protests that followed those deaths tended to reflect this disparity , with overwhelmingly black crowds turning out to demand justice .
But Floyd ’ s death , and the agonizing , protracted manner in which it occurred , has produced a different reaction .
Seventy-one per cent of white Americans now say that racial discrimination is a “ big problem.
” They , too , rushed into the streets .
In Salt Lake @ @ @ @ @ @ @ at just two per cent , huge , raucous protests stretched on for days .
Confronted with this challenge , the system went on a self-incrimination spree .
In Atlanta , police officers used stun guns against two college students as they sat in a car ; in Buffalo , officers shoved a seventy-five-year-old man to the ground , while others walked past as he lay bleeding ; in Brooklyn , two N.Y.P.D .
S.U.V.s drove into protesters .
Images of such incidents spurred protests and acts of solidarity in dozens of countries @ @ @ @ @ @ @ saw was astonishing not because it was contrary to what they ’ d heard of this nation but because it was similar to the repression they ’ d experienced at home .
Policing is inescapably a metaphor for governmental power .
The impunity of the American police has been achieved by slow accretion through the decades , and with the tacit understanding that it would be deployed in great disproportion against black people .
But , whatever ensues now , we are in a different moment .
Officers in Atlanta , New York @ @ @ @ @ @ @ been charged with assault for their actions against protesters .
Calls to “ defund the police , ” stripping them of all but their core law-enforcement functions , and allocating resources to other community institutions , are being taken seriously ; in Los Angeles , Mayor Eric Garcetti has pledged to cut two hundred and fifty million dollars from the police budget .
Last week , Democrats in the House of Representatives announced the Justice in Policing Act , which would ban choke holds , mandate body cameras , and establish a national @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , Governor Tim Walz endorsed a package of comprehensive police reforms .
The Louisville city council passed Breonna ’ s Law , for Breonna Taylor , banning the no-knock warrants that enabled the police to shoot her while she was in bed .
There have been other developments .
The argument once mired in pointless circumambulation , between “ All Lives Matter ” and “ Blue Lives Matter , ” has been settled .
Muriel Bowser , the mayor of Washington , D.C. , renamed a street leading to the White House Black @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on the asphalt in gigantic yellow letters .
The near-ubiquity of those words in the past three weeks—Amazon , Apple , and Airbnb all added some version of it to their home pages—has prompted a consideration of what this means in practical terms .
Critics on social media were quick to assert that the truest endorsement of Black Lives Matter lies not in what you say on your Web site but in what you do for your black employees .
The American Spring has not toppled a power , but it has led @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that power and the citizens from whom it is derived .
It has resolved any remaining questions regarding Donald Trump ’ s utter ineptitude as President ; it has laid bare the contradictory and partial democracy that the United States holds before the world as exemplary .
Most significant , it has clarified our terms .
Floyd ’ s life is the awful price we have paid for a momentarily common tongue , a language that precisely conveys what we are speaking of when we say “ American.
” Fourteen successive days of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ died in America , not simply in its black corollary .
The task that remains is to insure that more of us might actually live there .
♦

Illustration by João Fazenda
Consider for a moment how the events of May 25th through June 9th—the days of democratic bedlam in the streets, bracketed by the death and the burial of George Floyd—would appear had they occurred in some distant nation that most Americans have heard of but might not be able to find on a map. Consider that, in the midst of a pandemic whose toll was magnified by government incompetence, a member of a long-exploited ethnic minority was killed by the state, in an act defined by its casual sadism. Demonstrators pour into the streets near the site of the killing, in a scene that is soon repeated in city after city. The police arrest members of the media reporting the story. The President cites a threat to law and order, and federal agents are dispatched to disrupt protests in the nation’s capital, using tear gas and a military helicopter. These acts further erode his already tenuous position, prompting church leaders to rebuke him, and decorated generals to question his fitness for office.
In such a scenario, the lines of conflict gain new clarity, the abuses more unqualified horror. American commentators would compare the successive nights of protests to the Iranian uprisings of 2009 and the Arab Spring of 2011. The U.S. State Department, depending on its allegiances, might surreptitiously aid the protesters. We would all recognize the moment as the product of a traumatized society.
Now consider a different idea, that the death of George Floyd did occur in another country: the traumatized version of America inhabited by black people. Fifty-two years ago, following the storm of riots that swept through 1967 and 1968, the Kerner Commission report noted that “our nation is moving toward two societies—one black, one white, separate and unequal.” Today, the weight of grief and poverty in this country still falls disproportionately on black shoulders. The eight minutes and forty-six seconds during which a Minneapolis police officer killed George Floyd as three others looked on cannot be understood outside the context of a pandemic in which African-Americans have died at three times the rate of white Americans. The chaotic, angry, defiant tableaux in the streets of Minneapolis, Seattle, Los Angeles, New York, Philadelphia, Oakland, Atlanta, Chicago, Houston, Louisville, San Francisco, Indianapolis, Charleston, Detroit, Baltimore, and beyond represent a reckoning, a kind of American Spring, one long in the making and ignited not just by a single police killing. In death, George Floyd’s name has become a metaphor for the stacked inequities of the society that produced them.
Race, to the degree that it represents anything coherent in the United States, is shorthand for a specific set of life probabilities. The inequalities between black and white Americans are documented in rates of morbidity and infant mortality, wealth, and unemployment, which attest that although race may be a biological fiction, its reality is seen in what is likely to happen in our lives. The more than forty million people of African descent who live in the United States recognize this reality, but it’s largely invisible in the lives of white Americans. As with men, who, upon seeing the scroll of #MeToo testimonies, asked their wives, daughters, sisters, and co-workers, “Is it really that bad?,” the shock of revelation that attended the video of Floyd’s death is itself a kind of inequality, a barometer of the extent to which one group of Americans have moved through life largely free from the burden of such terrible knowledge.
At a congressional hearing last Wednesday, Philonise Floyd said that he hoped his brother would be “more than a face on a T‑shirt, more than a name on a list that won’t stop growing.” The Reverend Al Sharpton cited that list, of the wrongfully dead, in the eulogy that he delivered at Floyd’s funeral, naming Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, Eric Garner, Trayvon Martin. He could have gone on: Jordan Davis, Rekia Boyd, Freddie Gray, Tamir Rice. A sentiment common among many African-Americans is that these people lived and died in Black America, which is a different place from America at large—and that their deaths, most of which came at the hands of law enforcement, represent a broader reality, even though a significant number of white Americans were skeptical of its existence.
The demographics of the protests that followed those deaths tended to reflect this disparity, with overwhelmingly black crowds turning out to demand justice. But Floyd’s death, and the agonizing, protracted manner in which it occurred, has produced a different reaction. Seventy-one per cent of white Americans now say that racial discrimination is a “big problem.” They, too, rushed into the streets. In Salt Lake City, where the black population stands at just two per cent, huge, raucous protests stretched on for days.
Confronted with this challenge, the system went on a self-incrimination spree. In Atlanta, police officers used stun guns against two college students as they sat in a car; in Buffalo, officers shoved a seventy-five-year-old man to the ground, while others walked past as he lay bleeding; in Brooklyn, two N.Y.P.D. S.U.V.s drove into protesters. Images of such incidents spurred protests and acts of solidarity in dozens of countries. For many people, what they saw was astonishing not because it was contrary to what they’d heard of this nation but because it was similar to the repression they’d experienced at home.
Policing is inescapably a metaphor for governmental power. The impunity of the American police has been achieved by slow accretion through the decades, and with the tacit understanding that it would be deployed in great disproportion against black people. But, whatever ensues now, we are in a different moment. Officers in Atlanta, New York City, Buffalo, and Philadelphia have been charged with assault for their actions against protesters. Calls to “defund the police,” stripping them of all but their core law-enforcement functions, and allocating resources to other community institutions, are being taken seriously; in Los Angeles, Mayor Eric Garcetti has proposed cutting up to a hundred and fifty million dollars from the police budget. Last week, Democrats in the House of Representatives announced the Justice in Policing Act, which would ban choke holds, mandate body cameras, and establish a national registry of police misconduct. In Minnesota, Governor Tim Walz endorsed a package of comprehensive police reforms. The Louisville city council passed Breonna’s Law, for Breonna Taylor, banning the no-knock warrants that enabled the police to shoot her in her home.
There have been other developments. The argument once mired in pointless circumambulation, between “All Lives Matter” and “Blue Lives Matter,” has been settled. Muriel Bowser, the mayor of Washington, D.C., renamed a street leading to the White House Black Lives Matter Plaza, emblazoning the phrase on the asphalt in gigantic yellow letters. The near-ubiquity of those words in the past three weeks—Amazon, Apple, and Airbnb all added some version of it to their home pages—has prompted a consideration of what this means in practical terms. Critics on social media were quick to assert that the truest endorsement of Black Lives Matter lies not in what you say on your Web site but in what you do for your black employees.
The American Spring has not toppled a power, but it has led to a reassessment of the relationship between that power and the citizens from whom it is derived. It has resolved any remaining questions regarding Donald Trump’s utter ineptitude as President; it has laid bare the contradictory and partial democracy that the United States holds before the world as exemplary. Most significant, it has clarified our terms. Floyd’s life is the awful price we have paid for a momentarily common tongue, a language that precisely conveys what we are speaking of when we say “American.” Fourteen successive days of protest opened the possibility that George Floyd died in America, not simply in its black corollary. The task that remains is to insure that more of us might actually live there. ♦
An earlier version of this article misstated Mayor Garcetti’s plans for cutting funds from the L.A.P.D. and the location in Breonna Taylor’s home where she was shot by the Louisville police.


newyorker--2020-06-14--Sunday Reading: Where Art and Politics Meet

In an interview in 2012 , the artist Kara Walker remarked that “ art as a pursuit embraces so many facets of life that it figuratively ‘ works ’ on the spirits and minds of those who encounter it.
” Walker ’ s own work uses various techniques , such as cutouts and silhouettes , to evoke the complicated history of race relations .
In his Profile of Walker , published in 2007 , Hilton Als observes that her work often has a spiritual yet fantastical quality—it ’ s a reflection of American history as trompe-l ’ oeil .
“ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ writes , “ Walker was appropriating a sentimental form to build a narrative about power.
” This week , we ’ re bringing you a selection of pieces about artists and creative visionaries who are pushing the boundaries of social and cultural conventions .
In “ Banksy Was Here , ” Lauren Collins writes about the anti-authoritarian work of the British graffiti artist .
In “ It ’ s Not Beautiful , ” Evan Osnos profiles the artist Ai Weiwei , whose imaginative work has challenged the strictures of censorship in China .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ Calvin Tomkins examines the innovative artistry behind Cindy Sherman ’ s radical portraits .
Finally , in “ In the Picture , ” Raffi Khatchadourian chronicles the impact of the large-scale guerrilla photo installations of the French artist JR. We hope that you find these glimpses of artistic minds as fascinating as we do .
Cindy Sherman ’ s art is as mysterious as ever .
So is Cindy Sherman .
JR ’ s global experiment to help people be seen .

Photograph by Charlotte Hadden / NYT / Redux
In an interview in 2012, the artist Kara Walker remarked that “art as a pursuit embraces so many facets of life that it figuratively ‘works’ on the spirits and minds of those who encounter it.” Walker’s own work uses various techniques, such as cutouts and silhouettes, to evoke the complicated history of race relations. In his Profile of Walker, published in 2007, Hilton Als observes that her work often has a spiritual yet fantastical quality—it’s a reflection of American history as trompe-l’oeil. “In using the silhouette,” Als writes, “Walker was appropriating a sentimental form to build a narrative about power.” This week, we’re bringing you a selection of pieces about artists and creative visionaries who are pushing the boundaries of social and cultural conventions. In “Banksy Was Here,” Lauren Collins writes about the anti-authoritarian work of the British graffiti artist. In “It’s Not Beautiful,” Evan Osnos profiles the artist Ai Weiwei, whose imaginative work has challenged the strictures of censorship in China. In “Her Secret Identities,” Calvin Tomkins examines the innovative artistry behind Cindy Sherman’s radical portraits. Finally, in “In the Picture,” Raffi Khatchadourian chronicles the impact of the large-scale guerrilla photo installations of the French artist JR. We hope that you find these glimpses of artistic minds as fascinating as we do.
—David Remnick
Kara Walker’s vision.
Courtesy Banksy (2005)
The invisible man of graffiti art.
Photograph by Ian Teh / Panos
Ai Weiwei takes on the system.
Cindy Sherman’s art is as mysterious as ever. So is Cindy Sherman.
Photograph by the artist JR
JR’s global experiment to help people be seen.


newyorker--2020-06-14--Kadir Nelson’s “Say Their Names”

Kadir Nelson’s “Say Their Names”

Tulsa Race Massacre
Between May 31 and June 1, 1921, white mobs in Tulsa, Oklahoma, attacked black residents in the Greenwood district, then one of the wealthiest black communities in the United States. Hundreds were hospitalized and killed, and more than a thousand homes and businesses were burned or destroyed. In 2000, a commission formed by the state of Oklahoma suggested that thirty-three million dollars in restitution be paid to the survivors and descendants of victims. No such legislation was passed.


newyorker--2020-06-15--Revisiting Mengele’s Malignant “Race Science”

Have we come , at last , to the end of morally instructive Nazis ?
After eight decades , Nazis may seem to have retreated into a class with orcs and cable-TV sharks , fantastic creatures representing evil , rather than historical figures who actually were evil .
It is fine to say we should look past the History Channel Nazis— “ Hitler and the Occult ” —to the real thing , but there comes a time when the iconic imagination really does overwhelm the historical imagination .
No one any longer objects to jokes about the Spanish Inquisition , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ but which exists now first of all as a Monty Python sketch ( “ Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition !
” ) , while Henry VIII and the Tudors , who burned men , too , and brutalized thousands , are a soap opera before they are a sermon .
Two new books suggest that we may not have come to the end , and that , on the contrary , our struggle to understand how evil happens is still best helped by understanding how evil happened .
The subject of David G. @ @ @ @ @ @ @ W. W. Norton ) is one of the leading orcs : Josef Mengele , the Angel of Death at Auschwitz , who oversaw selections on the train ramp—sending some family members off to be gassed or worked to death , while conducting bizarre medical experiments on others—and who then escaped scot-free to a secret life in South America .
Mengele ’ s name became synonymous with pure evil of the sinister , educated sort : the movie “ Marathon Man , ” with Laurence Olivier as the Dustin Hoffman-torturing dentist , making dental @ @ @ @ @ @ @ inspired by Mengele .
Marwell ’ s life has much new to tell us , both about Mengele himself and , more significant , about the social and scientific milieu that allowed him to flourish .
There is nothing surprising in educated people doing evil , but it is still amazing to see how fully they construct a rationale to let them do it , piling plausible reason on self-justification , until , like Mengele , they are able to look themselves in the mirror every morning with bright-eyed self-congratulation .
Mengele , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ thought of himself as a scientist .
He trained as a physical anthropologist at the highest levels of German academia .
The offspring of a solid Bavarian Catholic family—during his later years in exile , he wrote tearful memoirs about his mother ’ s Catholic pieties—he studied in Bonn and Vienna , and , in 1933 , worked in Munich , under the Scottish-German anthropologist Theodor Mollison .
It was Mollison , Marwell writes , who “ perfected a series of measuring and recording devices that helped to standardize and increase the precision @ @ @ @ @ @ @ basis of physical anthropology.
” Even in the early thirties , Mollison was an eager Nazi , and the particular kind of anthropology he taught turned very easily to a völkisch ideology ; it was a purely descriptive science that easily lent itself to pseudoscience , what Stephen Jay Gould memorably dubbed “ the mismeasure of man.
” Mollison became famous for his “ deviation curves , ” graphs that seemed to show differences among racial kinds .
All ideas , and ideals , are capable of being twisted into their opposites .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ enemy quickly turn into a search for enemies not to love .
The intention and its perversion are usually transparent .
We even have a good word for this bad practice : hypocrisy .
But scientific theories , which get their credibility from their ability to explain the action of a limited domain of objects , can explode into false models for unrelated subjects without conscious hypocrisy .
The Darwinian idea of the struggle for existence , designed to explain the chiselling of birds ’ beaks , becomes in a generation the idea @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Einstein ’ s idea that the measurement of time is relative can warp into the idea that morality is .
The missteps can be hard to track .
The perversion of a scientific practice takes a second ; its rectification takes a semester .
The German anthropological practice of measuring people and typing them according to race , in which Mengele was trained , had , as the Columbia historian Andrew Zimmerman has shown , begun on a large scale half a century before Mengele was schooled in it .
It was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ direction of the impeccably liberal scientist Rudolf Virchow , who was a leading voice against anti-Semitism at the time , vying with a notorious anti-Semitic agitator for a seat in the Reichstag , and winning .
And , indeed , dividing schoolchildren into “ Blonds ” ( Nordic types ) and “ Brunets ” ( everyone else ) , Virchow found that “ Brunets occurred among all the schoolchildren a bit more than 14 percent ; among the Jews it was 42 percent.
” Looking at the numbers , we might think that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Jews .
But people make numbers mean what they want them to mean , as in baseball negotiations , and in this case the numbers were taken to mean that the Jews were not subtly different but utterly Other .
Analyzing the numbers with sufficient acuity to see what they really did or didn ’ t show was complicated , like explaining why high batting averages aren ’ t a good guide to winning baseball games : you have to be willing to hang around for the explanation , rather than rushing to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ idea of objectifying standards of human measurement was easily married to the ( anti-Darwinian ) idea that what you were measuring was not individual variations but racial essences—that races were like species , and came in fixed , unchanging kinds , discernible and deducible from fixed measures .
Mengele , studying human mandibles under Mollison ’ s supervision , concluded that “ the jaws of the examined racial groups indicate in their front sections such distinct differences that they permit one to distinguish between the races.
” It was like trying to study @ @ @ @ @ @ @ parked cars on a street .
You would end up with a significant-seeming taxonomy of windshield sizes and bumper dents , but you would have no idea that they all had the same motor inside , much less how it worked .
Even by the politicized standards of the field , Mengele was a mediocre student .
His doctoral thesis , Mollison judged , though it “ suffers from a somewhat clumsy manner of presentation and expression , may be described as fulfilling the requirements ” —academese , in any era , for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to study with the big names and win their support , but not good enough to go far in their world .
He went on to write another doctoral dissertation , in medical genetics , studying the heritability of cleft palates , which reinforced Nazi legislation requiring the sterilization of Germans with genetic disorders .
By the late nineteen-thirties , he had been put to work as an expert consultant on racial types , evaluating such variables as blood types , eye color , eyebrow shapes , and fingerprints , to determine if @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a full Jew or a half Jew .
In one instance , a Jew named Heinz Alexander was accused of the racial crime of miscegenation for having had an affair with an Aryan .
He defended himself by insisting that he was not , in fact , fully Jewish but the bastard of an Aryan father .
( Mengele wasn ’ t convinced . )
Reading about Mengele ’ s prewar training , one is struck by the enormous investment of resources , intellectual and financial , that was poured into this weirdly @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
When Mengele , newly enlisted in the S.S. on the brink of war in 1938 , sought to marry a twenty-one-year-old named Irene Schönbein , the Racial Office of the S.S. traced her ancestry back to 1648 to look for any signs of non-Aryan taint , and , unable to confidently establish the racial identity of her paternal grandfather , refused to enter her into its “ clan registry.
” ( Nazi rules about “ racial purity ” were inspired by , but did not go as far as , American “ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” laws , enacted in the South , which stipulated that even a remote black ancestor rendered an individual nonwhite .
As with Hitler ’ s likening of his conquest of the East to the American conquest of the West , our worst history encouraged the Nazis ’ worst instincts . )

Have we come, at last, to the end of morally instructive Nazis? After eight decades, Nazis may seem to have retreated into a class with orcs and cable-TV sharks, fantastic creatures representing evil, rather than historical figures who actually were evil. It is fine to say we should look past the History Channel Nazis—“Hitler and the Occult”—to the real thing, but there comes a time when the iconic imagination really does overwhelm the historical imagination. No one any longer objects to jokes about the Spanish Inquisition, which burned skeptics and Jews alive, but which exists now first of all as a Monty Python sketch (“Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!”), while Henry VIII and the Tudors, who burned men, too, and brutalized thousands, are a soap opera before they are a sermon.
Two new books suggest that we may not have come to the end, and that, on the contrary, our struggle to understand how evil happens is still best helped by understanding how evil happened. The subject of David G. Marwell’s “Mengele” (W. W. Norton) is one of the leading orcs: Josef Mengele, the Angel of Death at Auschwitz, who oversaw selections on the train ramp—sending some family members off to be gassed or worked to death, while conducting bizarre medical experiments on others—and who then escaped scot-free to a secret life in South America. Mengele’s name became synonymous with pure evil of the sinister, educated sort: the movie “Marathon Man,” with Laurence Olivier as the Dustin Hoffman-torturing dentist, making dental visits difficult for a generation, was inspired by Mengele.
Marwell’s life has much new to tell us, both about Mengele himself and, more significant, about the social and scientific milieu that allowed him to flourish. There is nothing surprising in educated people doing evil, but it is still amazing to see how fully they construct a rationale to let them do it, piling plausible reason on self-justification, until, like Mengele, they are able to look themselves in the mirror every morning with bright-eyed self-congratulation. Mengele, though he had a medical degree, thought of himself as a scientist. He trained as a physical anthropologist at the highest levels of German academia. The offspring of a solid Bavarian Catholic family—during his later years in exile, he wrote tearful memoirs about his mother’s Catholic pieties—he studied in Bonn and Vienna, and, in 1933, worked in Munich, under the Scottish-German anthropologist Theodor Mollison. It was Mollison, Marwell writes, who “perfected a series of measuring and recording devices that helped to standardize and increase the precision of the essential measurements that were the basis of physical anthropology.” Even in the early thirties, Mollison was an eager Nazi, and the particular kind of anthropology he taught turned very easily to a völkisch ideology; it was a purely descriptive science that easily lent itself to pseudoscience, what Stephen Jay Gould memorably dubbed “the mismeasure of man.” Mollison became famous for his “deviation curves,” graphs that seemed to show differences among racial kinds.
All ideas, and ideals, are capable of being twisted into their opposites. Religious doctrines preaching nonviolence and loving thy enemy quickly turn into a search for enemies not to love. The intention and its perversion are usually transparent. We even have a good word for this bad practice: hypocrisy. But scientific theories, which get their credibility from their ability to explain the action of a limited domain of objects, can explode into false models for unrelated subjects without conscious hypocrisy. The Darwinian idea of the struggle for existence, designed to explain the chiselling of birds’ beaks, becomes in a generation the idea that poor people deserve to be poor. Einstein’s idea that the measurement of time is relative can warp into the idea that morality is. The missteps can be hard to track. The perversion of a scientific practice takes a second; its rectification takes a semester.
The German anthropological practice of measuring people and typing them according to race, in which Mengele was trained, had, as the Columbia historian Andrew Zimmerman has shown, begun on a large scale half a century before Mengele was schooled in it. It was pioneered in the eighteen-seventies, under the direction of the impeccably liberal scientist Rudolf Virchow, who was a leading voice against anti-Semitism at the time, vying with a notorious anti-Semitic agitator for a seat in the Reichstag, and winning. And, indeed, dividing schoolchildren into “Blonds” (Nordic types) and “Brunets” (everyone else), Virchow found that “Brunets occurred among all the schoolchildren a bit more than 14 percent; among the Jews it was 42 percent.” Looking at the numbers, we might think that there was remarkably little measurable uniformity among Jews. But people make numbers mean what they want them to mean, as in baseball negotiations, and in this case the numbers were taken to mean that the Jews were not subtly different but utterly Other. Analyzing the numbers with sufficient acuity to see what they really did or didn’t show was complicated, like explaining why high batting averages aren’t a good guide to winning baseball games: you have to be willing to hang around for the explanation, rather than rushing to sign the contract. And so the idea of objectifying standards of human measurement was easily married to the (anti-Darwinian) idea that what you were measuring was not individual variations but racial essences—that races were like species, and came in fixed, unchanging kinds, discernible and deducible from fixed measures.
Mengele, studying human mandibles under Mollison’s supervision, concluded that “the jaws of the examined racial groups indicate in their front sections such distinct differences that they permit one to distinguish between the races.” It was like trying to study the internal-combustion engine by surveying all the parked cars on a street. You would end up with a significant-seeming taxonomy of windshield sizes and bumper dents, but you would have no idea that they all had the same motor inside, much less how it worked.
Even by the politicized standards of the field, Mengele was a mediocre student. His doctoral thesis, Mollison judged, though it “suffers from a somewhat clumsy manner of presentation and expression, may be described as fulfilling the requirements”—academese, in any era, for a B-minus. Mengele was good enough to study with the big names and win their support, but not good enough to go far in their world.
He went on to write another doctoral dissertation, in medical genetics, studying the heritability of cleft palates, which reinforced Nazi legislation requiring the sterilization of Germans with genetic disorders. By the late nineteen-thirties, he had been put to work as an expert consultant on racial types, evaluating such variables as blood types, eye color, eyebrow shapes, and fingerprints, to determine if a subject in a court case was a full Jew or a half Jew. In one instance, a Jew named Heinz Alexander was accused of the racial crime of miscegenation for having had an affair with an Aryan. He defended himself by insisting that he was not, in fact, fully Jewish but the bastard of an Aryan father. (Mengele wasn’t convinced.)
Reading about Mengele’s prewar training, one is struck by the enormous investment of resources, intellectual and financial, that was poured into this weirdly minute and futile science of racial difference. When Mengele, newly enlisted in the S.S. on the brink of war in 1938, sought to marry a twenty-one-year-old named Irene Schönbein, the Racial Office of the S.S. traced her ancestry back to 1648 to look for any signs of non-Aryan taint, and, unable to confidently establish the racial identity of her paternal grandfather, refused to enter her into its “clan registry.” (Nazi rules about “racial purity” were inspired by, but did not go as far as, American “one drop” and “blood fraction” laws, enacted in the South, which stipulated that even a remote black ancestor rendered an individual nonwhite. As with Hitler’s likening of his conquest of the East to the American conquest of the West, our worst history encouraged the Nazis’ worst instincts.)


newyorker--2020-06-15--The History of the “Riot” Report

The History of the “Riot” Report

On February 14 , 1965 , back from a trip to Los Angeles , and a week before he was killed in New York , Malcolm X gave a speech in Detroit .
“ Brothers and sisters , let me tell you , I spend my time out there in the street with people , all kind of people , listening to what they have to say , ” he said .
“ And they ’ re dissatisfied , they ’ re disillusioned , they ’ re fed up , they ’ re getting to the point of frustration where @ @ @ @ @ @ @ do they have to lose ?
” That summer , President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the Voting Rights Act .
In a ceremony at the Capitol Rotunda attended by Martin Luther King , Jr. , Johnson invoked the arrival of enslaved Africans in Jamestown , in 1619 : “ They came in darkness and they came in chains .
And today we strike away the last major shackles of those fierce and ancient bonds.
” Five days later , Watts was swept by violence and flames , following a protest against police brutality @ @ @ @ @ @ @ thousand people ; thirty-four people died .
“ How is it possible , after all we ’ ve accomplished ?
” Johnson asked .
“ How could it be ?
Is the world topsy-turvy ?
” Two years later , after thousands of police officers and National Guard troops blocked off fourteen square miles of Newark and nearly five thousand troops from the 82nd and the 101st Airborne were deployed to Detroit , where seven thousand people were arrested , Johnson convened a National Advisory Commission on Civil Disorders , chaired by Illinois @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Jr. , and charged it with answering three questions : “ What happened ?
Why did it happen ?
What can be done to prevent it from happening again and again ?
” Johnson wanted to know why black people were still protesting , after Congress had finally passed landmark legislation , not only the Voting Rights Act but also the Civil Rights Act of 1964 , and a raft of anti-poverty programs .
Or maybe he really didn ’ t want to know why .
When the Kerner Commission submitted its report @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
There ’ s a limit to the relevance of the so-called race riots of the nineteen-sixties to the protests of the moment .
But the tragedy is : they ’ re not irrelevant .
Nor is the history that came before .
The language changes , from “ insurrection ” to “ uprising ” to the bureaucratic “ civil disorder , ” terms used to describe everything from organized resistance to mayhem .
But , nearly always , they leave a bloody trail in the historical record , in the form of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ centuries of official and generally hysterical government inquiries into black rebellion , from the unhinged “ A Journal of the proceedings in the Detection of the Conspiracy formed by some White People , in conjunction with Negro and other Slaves , for burning the City of New-York in America , and murdering the Inhabitants , ” in 1744 , to the largely fabricated “ Official Report of the Trials of Sundry Negroes , charged with an attempt to raise an insurrection in the state of South-Carolina , ” in 1822 .
The white @ @ @ @ @ @ @ dubious ) “ The Confessions of Nat Turner , the Leader of the Late Insurrection in Southampton , Va. .
.
.
also , An Authentic Account of the Whole Insurrection , with Lists of the Whites Who Were Murdered .
.
.
, ” in 1831 , wrote , “ Public curiosity has been on the stretch to understand the origin and progress of this dreadful conspiracy , and the motives which influences its diabolical actors.
” What happened ?
Why did it happen ?
What can be done to prevent it @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Reconstruction , Ida B .
Wells , in “ Southern Horrors : Lynch Law in All Its Phases , ” which appeared in 1892 , turned the genre on its head , offering a report on white mobs attacking black men , a litany of lynchings .
“ Somebody must show that the Afro-American race is more sinned against than sinning , and it seems to have fallen upon me to do so , ” Wells wrote in the book ’ s preface , after a mob burned the offices of her newspaper @ @ @ @ @ @ @ violence against black people and their homes and businesses was the far more common variety of race riot , from the first rising of the K.K.K.
, after the Civil War , through the second , in 1915 .
And so the earliest twentieth-century commissions charged with investigating “ race riots ” reported on the riots of white mobs , beginning with the massacre in East St. Louis , Illinois , in 1917 , in which , following labor unrest , as many as three thousand white men roamed the city , attacking @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , and burning their homes .
Wells wrote that as many as a hundred and fifty men were killed , while police officers and National Guardsmen either looked on or joined in .
Similar riots took place in 1919 , in twenty-six cities , and the governor of Illinois appointed an interracial commission to investigate .
“ This is a tribunal constituted to get the facts and interpret them and to find a way out , ” he said .
The Chicago Commission on Race Relations , composed of six whites and six @ @ @ @ @ @ @ as many as twenty-two whites and fifteen blacks , heard nearly two hundred witnesses , and , in 1922 , published a seven-hundred-page report , with photographs , maps , and color plates : “ The Negro in Chicago : A Study of Race Relations and a Race Riot.
” It paid particular attention to racial antipathy : “ Many white Americans , while technically recognizing Negroes as citizens , can not bring themselves to feel that they should participate in government as freely as other citizens.
” Much of the report traces @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of blacks from the Jim Crow South to Chicago , where they faced discrimination in housing and employment , and persecution at the hands of local police and the criminal-justice system :

On February 14, 1965, back from a trip to Los Angeles, and a week before he was killed in New York, Malcolm X gave a speech in Detroit. “Brothers and sisters, let me tell you, I spend my time out there in the street with people, all kind of people, listening to what they have to say,” he said. “And they’re dissatisfied, they’re disillusioned, they’re fed up, they’re getting to the point of frustration where they are beginning to feel: What do they have to lose?”
That summer, President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the Voting Rights Act. In a ceremony at the Capitol Rotunda attended by Martin Luther King, Jr., Johnson invoked the arrival of enslaved Africans in Jamestown, in 1619: “They came in darkness and they came in chains. And today we strike away the last major shackles of those fierce and ancient bonds.” Five days later, Watts was swept by violence and flames, following a protest against police brutality. The authorities eventually arrested nearly four thousand people; thirty-four people died. “How is it possible, after all we’ve accomplished?” Johnson asked. “How could it be? Is the world topsy-turvy?”
Two years later, after thousands of police officers and National Guard troops blocked off fourteen square miles of Newark and nearly five thousand troops from the 82nd and the 101st Airborne were deployed to Detroit, where seven thousand people were arrested, Johnson convened a National Advisory Commission on Civil Disorders, chaired by Illinois’s governor, Otto Kerner, Jr., and charged it with answering three questions: “What happened? Why did it happen? What can be done to prevent it from happening again and again?” Johnson wanted to know why black people were still protesting, after Congress had finally passed landmark legislation, not only the Voting Rights Act but also the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and a raft of anti-poverty programs. Or maybe he really didn’t want to know why. When the Kerner Commission submitted its report, the President refused to acknowledge it.
There’s a limit to the relevance of the so-called race riots of the nineteen-sixties to the protests of the moment. But the tragedy is: they’re not irrelevant. Nor is the history that came before. The language changes, from “insurrection” to “uprising” to the bureaucratic “civil disorder,” terms used to describe everything from organized resistance to mayhem. But, nearly always, they leave a bloody trail in the historical record, in the form of government reports. The Kerner Report followed centuries of official and generally hysterical government inquiries into black rebellion, from the unhinged “A Journal of the proceedings in the Detection of the Conspiracy formed by some White People, in conjunction with Negro and other Slaves, for burning the City of New-York in America, and murdering the Inhabitants,” in 1744, to the largely fabricated “Official Report of the Trials of Sundry Negroes, charged with an attempt to raise an insurrection in the state of South-Carolina,” in 1822. The white editor of the as-told-to (and highly dubious) “The Confessions of Nat Turner, the Leader of the Late Insurrection in Southampton, Va. . . . also, An Authentic Account of the Whole Insurrection, with Lists of the Whites Who Were Murdered . . . ,” in 1831, wrote, “Public curiosity has been on the stretch to understand the origin and progress of this dreadful conspiracy, and the motives which influences its diabolical actors.” What happened? Why did it happen? What can be done to prevent it from happening again and again?
After Reconstruction, Ida B. Wells, in “Southern Horrors: Lynch Law in All Its Phases,” which appeared in 1892, turned the genre on its head, offering a report on white mobs attacking black men, a litany of lynchings. “Somebody must show that the Afro-American race is more sinned against than sinning, and it seems to have fallen upon me to do so,” Wells wrote in the book’s preface, after a mob burned the offices of her newspaper, the Free Speech. White mob violence against black people and their homes and businesses was the far more common variety of race riot, from the first rising of the K.K.K., after the Civil War, through the second, in 1915. And so the earliest twentieth-century commissions charged with investigating “race riots” reported on the riots of white mobs, beginning with the massacre in East St. Louis, Illinois, in 1917, in which, following labor unrest, as many as three thousand white men roamed the city, attacking, killing, and lynching black people, and burning their homes. Wells wrote that as many as a hundred and fifty men were killed, while police officers and National Guardsmen either looked on or joined in. Similar riots took place in 1919, in twenty-six cities, and the governor of Illinois appointed an interracial commission to investigate. “This is a tribunal constituted to get the facts and interpret them and to find a way out,” he said.
“Do you think you and Daddy might be brave enough to sleep in your own bed tonight?” Cartoon by Emily Flake Copy link to cartoon Copy link to cartoon Shop Shop
The Chicago Commission on Race Relations, composed of six whites and six blacks, who engaged the work of as many as twenty-two whites and fifteen blacks, heard nearly two hundred witnesses, and, in 1922, published a seven-hundred-page report, with photographs, maps, and color plates: “The Negro in Chicago: A Study of Race Relations and a Race Riot.” It paid particular attention to racial antipathy: “Many white Americans, while technically recognizing Negroes as citizens, cannot bring themselves to feel that they should participate in government as freely as other citizens.” Much of the report traces how the Great Migration brought large numbers of blacks from the Jim Crow South to Chicago, where they faced discrimination in housing and employment, and persecution at the hands of local police and the criminal-justice system:
The testimony of court officials before the Commission and its investigations indicate that Negroes are more commonly arrested, subjected to police identification, and convicted than white offenders, that on similar evidence they are generally held and convicted on more serious charges, and that they are given longer sentences. . . . These practices and tendencies are not only unfair to Negroes, but weaken the machinery of justice and, when taken with the greater inability of Negroes to pay fines in addition to or in lieu of terms in jail, produce misleading statistics of Negro crime.
Very little came of the report. In 1935, following riots in Harlem, yet another hardworking commission weighed in:
This sudden breach of the public order was the result of a highly emotional situation among the colored people of Harlem, due in large part to the nervous strain of years of unemployment and insecurity. To this must be added their deep sense of wrong through discrimination against their employment in stores which live chiefly upon their purchases, discrimination against them in the school system and by the police, and all the evils due to dreadful overcrowding, unfair rentals and inadequate institutional care. It is probable that their justifiable pent-up feeling, that they were and are the victims of gross injustice and prejudice, would sooner or later have brought about an explosion.
Who was to blame?
The blame belongs to a society that tolerates inadequate and often wretched housing, inadequate and inefficient schools and other public facilities, unemployment, unduly high rents, the lack of recreation grounds, discrimination in industry and public utilities against colored people, brutality and lack of courtesy of the police.
In Detroit in 1943, after a riot left twenty-five blacks and nine whites dead and led to the arrest of nearly two thousand people, Michigan’s governor appointed the commissioner of police and the attorney general to a panel that concluded, without conducting much of an investigation, that responsibility for the riots lay with black leaders, and defended the police, whom many had blamed for the violence. A separate, independent commission, led by Thurgood Marshall, then chief counsel for the N.A.A.C.P., conducted interviews, hired private detectives, and produced a report titled “The Gestapo in Detroit.” The group called for a grand jury, arguing that “much of the blood spilled in the Detroit riot is on the hands of the Detroit police department.” No further investigation took place, and no material reforms were implemented.
That’s what usually happens. In a 1977 study, “Commission Politics: The Processing of Racial Crisis in America,” Michael Lipsky and David J. Olson reported that, between 1917 and 1943, at least twenty-one commissions were appointed to investigate race riots, and, however sincerely their members might have been interested in structural change, none of the commissions led to any. The point of a race-riot commission, Lipsky and Olson argue, is for the government that appoints it to appear to be doing something, while actually doing nothing.
The convulsions that led to the Kerner Commission began in Los Angeles, in 1965. Between 1960 and 1964, the nation enjoyed unrivalled prosperity, but in Watts, among the poorest neighborhoods of L.A., one in three men had no work. In Los Angeles, as Mike Davis and Jon Wiener write in a new book, “Set the Night on Fire: L.A. in the Sixties,” “the LAPD operated the nation’s most successful negative employment scheme.” Police stopped black men for little or no reason, and, if they talked back, they got arrested; left with an arrest record, they became unemployable.
On August 11, 1965, a Wednesday, a motorcycle cop pulled over a car with a driver and a passenger, two brothers, Ronald and Marquette Frye, about a block from their house, near 116th Street. Their mother, Rena, all of five feet tall, came over. Marquette resisted handcuffs—he would strike those fierce and ancient shackles. The motorcycle cop called for backup; twenty-six police vehicles raced to the scene, sirens screaming. “Does it take all these people to arrest three people?” an onlooker asked. When Rena Frye tried to stop the police from beating her sons with billy clubs, they pinned her to the hood of a patrol car and, after a crowd had gathered, arrested another of her sons and dragged away a woman in a stranglehold. “Goddam! They’d never treat a white woman like that!” someone called out. The crowd protested, and grew, and protested, and grew. What came to be known as the Watts riot lasted for six days and spread across nearly fifty square miles. On Friday night, a man said:


newyorker--2020-06-15--“Pigeon and Hawk,” by Marilyn Nelson

“Pigeon and Hawk,” by Marilyn Nelson

A new grad student far away from home , I took every step on trembling ground .
I knew no one .
Who were my friends ?
The other black student in the program ducked and rushed away when our eyes met .
Seminar rooms were full of hungry dogs snapping up scraps of nodding approval .
At the end of a campus reception I accepted the offer of a ride from campus to my downtown room-with-bath .
October .
Evenings were getting cool .
The walk over the bridge downtown felt dangerously long when it was dark .
Did @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ride tell me his name ?
What was it about him that made me say Yes thanks , like a damn fool ?
When we were in his car and he said oops , he had forgotten something at his place he had to pick up , and asked if I ’ d mind if we stopped there , why did I say O.K.
?
Did we talk during the drive ?
Was the radio on ?
Did I just watch the businesses , in thinning traffic , become a suburb where his @ @ @ @ @ @ @ splendid in autumn colors so beautiful they took my words away ?
When he pulled up and said I should come in , it would only take a minute , why did I go upstairs with him , wait as the key unlocked his apartment , and go inside ?
The building was silent .
A big window in the living room looked at parking lots with a few parked cars , and the glowing trees .
He said I ’ ll be right back , and disappeared into the bedroom .
I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ nothing , my mind a blank page that grew emptier as the minutes passed .
What was he doing during those minutes , as I stood dreaming like a fat pigeon in the keen purview of a circling hawk ?
What could he have needed to go home for , that was so important he had to go there first , before he drove me home ?
Was he wrestling with opportunity ?
Human horrors are not inevitable .
Some people stop themselves , before they cross moral divides .
A drinking buddy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ A cop might take his knee off a black man ’ s throat .
A young man might come out and say O.K.
, let ’ s go , and drive you home .
What was his name ?

Audio: A version read by the author.
A new grad student far away from home,
I took every step on trembling ground.
I knew no one. Who were my friends?
The other black student in the program
ducked and rushed away when our eyes met.
Seminar rooms were full of hungry dogs
snapping up scraps of nodding approval.
At the end of a campus reception
I accepted the offer of a ride
from campus to my downtown room-with-bath.
October. Evenings were getting cool.
The walk over the bridge downtown
felt dangerously long when it was dark.
Did the young man who offered me a ride
tell me his name? What was it about him
that made me say Yes thanks, like a damn fool?
When we were in his car and he said oops,
he had forgotten something at his place
he had to pick up, and asked if I’d mind
if we stopped there, why did I say O.K.?
Did we talk during the drive? Was the radio on?
Did I just watch the businesses,
in thinning traffic, become a suburb
where his apartment complex was in a woods
already splendid in autumn colors
so beautiful they took my words away?
When he pulled up and said I should come in,
it would only take a minute, why did I go
upstairs with him, wait as the key unlocked
his apartment, and go inside?
The building was silent. A big window
in the living room looked at parking lots
with a few parked cars, and the glowing trees.
He said I’ll be right back, and disappeared
into the bedroom. I turned to the view,
thinking of nothing, my mind a blank page
that grew emptier as the minutes passed.
What was he doing during those minutes,
as I stood dreaming like a fat pigeon
in the keen purview of a circling hawk?
What could he have needed to go home for,
that was so important he had to go
there first, before he drove me home? Was he
wrestling with opportunity?
Human horrors
are not inevitable. Some people stop
themselves, before they cross moral divides.
A drinking buddy might say Cool it, bro.
A cop might take his knee off a black man’s throat.
A young man might come out and say O.K.,
let’s go, and drive you home. What was his name?