thenation--2020-06-24--Between Mystery and Social Democracy: A Journey Through Scandinavian Crime Novels

Wendy Lesser first became captivated by Scandinavian crime novels during the early 1980s , drawn in by the thrillingly realistic plots and their attention to social realities .
In the wake of Donald Trump ’ s election , that fascination reasserted itself ; she once again longed to be immersed in a region she ’ d visited only in fiction .
And then one day , she writes , the fictional Scandinavia “ no longer seemed sufficient.
” She traveled to Sweden , Norway , and Denmark , delving into how the real places aligned with—and differed from—the versions she @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
The result is Scandinavian Noir : In Pursuit of a Mystery , a book that ’ s part travelogue and part affectionate dissection of a genre .
As the coronavirus continued its creep across the world , Lesser and I spoke about Norway ’ s low murder rate , the escapist promise of crime fiction , and the role of guns in Scandinavian culture .
This interview has been edited for length and clarity .
Rachel Monroe : Reading your book right now was kind of deliciously escapist , to be honest @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , and there are people sunbathing and eating in cafes… Wendy Lesser : It ’ s armchair travel , which is highly recommended in times like these—although the Scandinavians are suffering under the same kinds of limitations we are at the moment .
But you get the feeling that they live under a government that takes care of them and that has concern for its citizens .
That was reassuring [ when I traveled there ] in 2018 , and it ’ s reassuring now , by comparison .
RM : In the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ describe your limited understanding of Scandinavian culture , which was based entirely on what you ’ d gleaned from crime novels .
In the second half , you actually travel to Denmark , Sweden , and Norway .
You interview homicide detectives , soak up the atmosphere , and visit the towns and cities depicted .
In some ways , the real places line up with your imaginary version , but in other ways , they don ’ t .
WL : The major discrepancy between the novels and reality is that there @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
[ In the books , most of the detectives are men . ]
It ’ s fascinating that both male and female Scandinavian detective writers did not use that fact .
They ’ re wedded to the old forms of the genre , where the male detective rushes in and saves the day after the female is chopped up by the serial killer .
But in reality , most of the people who are being killed are young men , and most of the people who are solving the crimes are women @ @ @ @ @ @ @ conservative genre , if not politically then maybe just structurally .
WL : Exactly .
In terms of style and what characteristics the protagonist is supposed to have , it ’ s usually male characteristics .
But in fact , being able to doggedly pursue lines of research and deal with huge piles of paper and work together with the people on your team—those turn out to be qualities that are more important than being the tough guy with a gun .
RM : You read about Scandinavia for a long time before @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I had wanted to go for a long time but didn ’ t really think I would get there .
One of my earlier books involved going to an island off the coast of Estonia .
I ’ m looking across the water , and I can practically see Sweden .
I thought , “ Gee , I ’ m so close—I wonder if I should go there.
” And I didn ’ t .
WL : This is definitely a post-2016 book .
My first experience of escapism to Scandinavia was during @ @ @ @ @ @ @ re going through a rerun of that , but it ’ s 10 times worse .
And I ’ m speaking before we ever heard of the coronavirus .
Going to other countries allows you to get out from under the stress of your own country .
Seeing it from the outside can be very freeing—and a little depressing .
You realize the flaws of your own country more , but you realize that there is an outside view .
I ’ ve felt this at different periods of my life .
I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the Vietnam War and had a similar experience .
And in Scandinavia , I really felt , “ OK , I ’ ve gotten out from under this temporarily .
I can see how horrible [ the political situation in the US ] is ; it makes me as angry as it ever did.
” It ’ s a book where you ’ re very aware that there ’ s this awful , looming reality in America and that Scandinavia is being presented as some kind of alternative—Scandinavia on the page , but @ @ @ @ @ @ @ : What do you think made Scandinavian crime novels—particularly the Martin Beck series—so appealing to you in the 1980s ?
WL : Those books are written by a couple , Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö , who viewed themselves as Marxist .
They thought that the Swedes weren ’ t doing enough social welfare .
That was just fascinating to me .
Here , I was in this country where every form of safety net for the poor or protection of individual rights was being taken apart , and meanwhile there was this @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in place and could be criticized as not being sufficient .
RM : What was so revolutionary about the Beck books , besides their politics ?
WL : Before the Beck books , the mysteries that most people were reading in Scandinavia were either in the Sherlock Holmes model with a lot of intellectual ratiocination or country-house murders of the Agatha Christie sort—the mystery as a gemlike piece of writing that had nothing to do with our world .
Sjöwall and Wahlöö decided to make very realistic characters set absolutely in their own @ @ @ @ @ @ @ every year from 1965 to 1975 , and they were about things that happened in the preceding year .
They refer to international politics , to the Vietnam War , to poverty and isolation in Sweden .
They are really—in such a gripping way—about the world .
RM : As a writer of true crime , this makes sense to me .
If you want to write about a subculture or a place or a way of life or a political issue , people are much more likely to read it if there @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
WL : My friends always say that I won ’ t really watch a TV show unless it has a murder in it .
Like , if I ’ ve been watching for half an hour and nobody ’ s dead , I turn it off .
RM : Why do you think that is ?
Does it have to do with your own psyche , or is it something broader than that ?
WL : I think it all has to do with plot .
Things that don ’ t have @ @ @ @ @ @ @ have such tight plots .
I really love plot .
I ’ m not as committed to it in a book as I am in TV or movies , but I like plots , and I like plots that resolve themselves .
There have been some great movies with unresolved endings , and I ’ ve been forced to admit that after watching them two or three times , but for the most part , I really like a plot that comes to an end and ties up the loose ends .
Murder @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and other kinds of plots don ’ t .
RM : While you ’ re in Scandinavia , you interview a number of real-life homicide detectives .
I couldn ’ t help contrasting their experiences with the way crime and law enforcement work in the United States .
There ’ s a moment when a Swedish police officer tells you that there are only 12 murders per year in Oslo… I was so shocked I almost dropped my book .
And then another really striking difference is their attitude toward guns .
Can @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in Scandinavia , both how they function in the novels and in real life ?
WL : In the books you hardly ever hear about guns .
There ’ s one moment in the 10-book Kurt Wallander series where Kurt actually had to shoot somebody—that stands out .
In the Martin Becks , you never hear much about law enforcement carrying guns .
One very prominent character , Kollberg , refuses to carry a gun for decades because he mistakenly killed a fellow policeman early in his career .
Even in the Jo @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , there are knives and baseball bats and weird , complicated torture instruments developed by the evil monster guy , but there aren ’ t very many guns .
And then it turned out that , in person , there were more guns in these countries than I expected , mainly because in Norway and Sweden there ’ s a lot of hunting .
Quite a few civilians own guns , and they were all going to get their gun permits in Oslo the day I was there speaking to the police .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ guns being used in crimes very often .
That ’ s true in Norway , and it ’ s true in Denmark , which has very , very severe anti-gun laws .
The police carry guns in Denmark , but for a civilian to carry a gun , you have to have it locked in a box with the ammunition locked away separately .
If you ’ re caught violating even one of these gun laws , you can go to jail for months or years .
Sweden is the exception : They @ @ @ @ @ @ @ violence , attributable mainly to gangs .
But still , the number of gun murders—or murders of any kind—in their biggest cities is tiny , proportional to the population , compared to St. Louis or Chicago .
RM : You also discuss how these countries are grappling with their own issues with immigration and xenophobia .
WL : Very much so .
They are facing similar problems but handling them differently .
I mean , their right wing is horrible , of course , but it just feels like miles away from our @ @ @ @ @ @ @ RM : That ’ s related to what you were saying earlier—how there ’ s a kind of hope in recognizing that the way things are isn ’ t the way that they have to be .
WL : Yes , that ’ s right .
And both travel and books can introduce you to that fact .

Wendy Lesser first became captivated by Scandinavian crime novels during the early 1980s, drawn in by the thrillingly realistic plots and their attention to social realities. In the wake of Donald Trump’s election, that fascination reasserted itself; she once again longed to be immersed in a region she’d visited only in fiction. And then one day, she writes, the fictional Scandinavia “no longer seemed sufficient.” She traveled to Sweden, Norway, and Denmark, delving into how the real places aligned with—and differed from—the versions she’d gleaned from Nordic police procedurals. The result is Scandinavian Noir: In Pursuit of a Mystery, a book that’s part travelogue and part affectionate dissection of a genre.
As the coronavirus continued its creep across the world, Lesser and I spoke about Norway’s low murder rate, the escapist promise of crime fiction, and the role of guns in Scandinavian culture. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
—Rachel Monroe
Rachel Monroe: Reading your book right now was kind of deliciously escapist, to be honest. You’re on public transportation, and there are people sunbathing and eating in cafes…
Wendy Lesser: It’s armchair travel, which is highly recommended in times like these—although the Scandinavians are suffering under the same kinds of limitations we are at the moment. But you get the feeling that they live under a government that takes care of them and that has concern for its citizens. That was reassuring [when I traveled there] in 2018, and it’s reassuring now, by comparison.
RM: In the first half of the book, you describe your limited understanding of Scandinavian culture, which was based entirely on what you’d gleaned from crime novels. In the second half, you actually travel to Denmark, Sweden, and Norway. You interview homicide detectives, soak up the atmosphere, and visit the towns and cities depicted. In some ways, the real places line up with your imaginary version, but in other ways, they don’t.
WL: The major discrepancy between the novels and reality is that there were so many policewomen working as detectives. [In the books, most of the detectives are men.] It’s fascinating that both male and female Scandinavian detective writers did not use that fact. They’re wedded to the old forms of the genre, where the male detective rushes in and saves the day after the female is chopped up by the serial killer. But in reality, most of the people who are being killed are young men, and most of the people who are solving the crimes are women.
RM: Crime can be a conservative genre, if not politically then maybe just structurally.
WL: Exactly. In terms of style and what characteristics the protagonist is supposed to have, it’s usually male characteristics. But in fact, being able to doggedly pursue lines of research and deal with huge piles of paper and work together with the people on your team—those turn out to be qualities that are more important than being the tough guy with a gun. Popular "swipe left below to view more authors"Swipe → The Evisceration of a Public University The Evisceration of a Public University Lisa M. Corrigan The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks Chris Lehmann “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash Dave Zirin A Grim Chronicle of Trump’s Corrupt Public Life A Grim Chronicle of Trump’s Corrupt Public Life Chris Lehmann Popular "swipe left below to view more authors"Swipe → The Evisceration of a Public University The Evisceration of a Public University Lisa M. Corrigan The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks Chris Lehmann “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash Dave Zirin A Grim Chronicle of Trump’s Corrupt Public Life A Grim Chronicle of Trump’s Corrupt Public Life Chris Lehmann
RM: You read about Scandinavia for a long time before you made that journey.
WL: I had wanted to go for a long time but didn’t really think I would get there. One of my earlier books involved going to an island off the coast of Estonia. I’m looking across the water, and I can practically see Sweden. I thought, “Gee, I’m so close—I wonder if I should go there.” And I didn’t.
RM: What changed?
WL: This is definitely a post-2016 book. My first experience of escapism to Scandinavia was during the Reagan administration. Now we’re going through a rerun of that, but it’s 10 times worse. And I’m speaking before we ever heard of the coronavirus.
Going to other countries allows you to get out from under the stress of your own country. Seeing it from the outside can be very freeing—and a little depressing. You realize the flaws of your own country more, but you realize that there is an outside view. I’ve felt this at different periods of my life. I lived in England for two years during the Vietnam War and had a similar experience.
And in Scandinavia, I really felt, “OK, I’ve gotten out from under this temporarily. I can see how horrible [the political situation in the US] is; it makes me as angry as it ever did.” It’s a book where you’re very aware that there’s this awful, looming reality in America and that Scandinavia is being presented as some kind of alternative—Scandinavia on the page, but also the one in reality.
RM: What do you think made Scandinavian crime novels—particularly the Martin Beck series—so appealing to you in the 1980s?
WL: Those books are written by a couple, Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö, who viewed themselves as Marxist. They thought that the Swedes weren’t doing enough social welfare. That was just fascinating to me. Here, I was in this country where every form of safety net for the poor or protection of individual rights was being taken apart, and meanwhile there was this other world where these things were still in place and could be criticized as not being sufficient.
RM: What was so revolutionary about the Beck books, besides their politics?
WL: Before the Beck books, the mysteries that most people were reading in Scandinavia were either in the Sherlock Holmes model with a lot of intellectual ratiocination or country-house murders of the Agatha Christie sort—the mystery as a gemlike piece of writing that had nothing to do with our world. Sjöwall and Wahlöö decided to make very realistic characters set absolutely in their own time. The books came out almost every year from 1965 to 1975, and they were about things that happened in the preceding year. They refer to international politics, to the Vietnam War, to poverty and isolation in Sweden. They are really—in such a gripping way—about the world.
RM: As a writer of true crime, this makes sense to me. If you want to write about a subculture or a place or a way of life or a political issue, people are much more likely to read it if there’s a murder in there somewhere.
WL: My friends always say that I won’t really watch a TV show unless it has a murder in it. Like, if I’ve been watching for half an hour and nobody’s dead, I turn it off.
RM: Why do you think that is? Does it have to do with your own psyche, or is it something broader than that?
WL: I think it all has to do with plot. Things that don’t have murders in them often don’t have such tight plots. I really love plot. I’m not as committed to it in a book as I am in TV or movies, but I like plots, and I like plots that resolve themselves. There have been some great movies with unresolved endings, and I’ve been forced to admit that after watching them two or three times, but for the most part, I really like a plot that comes to an end and ties up the loose ends. Murder plots feel obliged to do that, and other kinds of plots don’t.
RM: While you’re in Scandinavia, you interview a number of real-life homicide detectives. I couldn’t help contrasting their experiences with the way crime and law enforcement work in the United States. There’s a moment when a Swedish police officer tells you that there are only 12 murders per year in Oslo… I was so shocked I almost dropped my book. And then another really striking difference is their attitude toward guns. Can you talk a little bit about firearms in Scandinavia, both how they function in the novels and in real life?
WL: In the books you hardly ever hear about guns. There’s one moment in the 10-book Kurt Wallander series where Kurt actually had to shoot somebody—that stands out. In the Martin Becks, you never hear much about law enforcement carrying guns. One very prominent character, Kollberg, refuses to carry a gun for decades because he mistakenly killed a fellow policeman early in his career. Even in the Jo Nesbos, those notoriously violent Norweigan mysteries, there are knives and baseball bats and weird, complicated torture instruments developed by the evil monster guy, but there aren’t very many guns.
And then it turned out that, in person, there were more guns in these countries than I expected, mainly because in Norway and Sweden there’s a lot of hunting. Quite a few civilians own guns, and they were all going to get their gun permits in Oslo the day I was there speaking to the police. But somehow that has not translated to guns being used in crimes very often. That’s true in Norway, and it’s true in Denmark, which has very, very severe anti-gun laws. The police carry guns in Denmark, but for a civilian to carry a gun, you have to have it locked in a box with the ammunition locked away separately. If you’re caught violating even one of these gun laws, you can go to jail for months or years. Sweden is the exception: They’ve had a rash of gun violence, attributable mainly to gangs. But still, the number of gun murders—or murders of any kind—in their biggest cities is tiny, proportional to the population, compared to St. Louis or Chicago.
RM: You also discuss how these countries are grappling with their own issues with immigration and xenophobia.
WL: Very much so. They are facing similar problems but handling them differently. I mean, their right wing is horrible, of course, but it just feels like miles away from our superconservative, white supremacist right wing.
RM: That’s related to what you were saying earlier—how there’s a kind of hope in recognizing that the way things are isn’t the way that they have to be.
WL: Yes, that’s right. And both travel and books can introduce you to that fact.


thenation--2020-06-24--A Lesbian Archive Sends Its Love Letter: Find History, Find Yourself

akland , alif.—I am deeply urban .
My shoes , clothes , eyeglasses , are all assembled with an understanding of how they relate to pavement , changeable weather , and the glare bouncing off city buildings .
From Boston to New York City to San Francisco and Oakland , I ’ ve felt perfectly attuned to the cityscape .
But with quarantine , everything went askew , as if I had turned a corner into the Twilight Zone .
Something Is Happening Here is a collaboration between The Nation and Kopkind , a living memorial to radical journalist Andrew @ @ @ @ @ @ @ magazine ’ s chief political writer and analyst .
We ’ d lived in Oakland for only several months before I left in January for New York City , where my play about Alberta Hunter was enjoying a successful run—an engagement that ended just before the coronavirus landed with both feet in the US .
I returned to Oakland as the city was gearing up for lockdown .
I thought this would be fortuitous ; I ’ d write endlessly , perhaps in all genres .
We had masks .
We had access @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for unending hours and watch movies and television shows till dawn .
The money we previously spent on eating out , going to plays and movies we ’ d donate to relief efforts .
I have friends who have been teetering on the edge not of armed rebellion but of despondency .
I restricted myself to one broadcast news show , allowing my anxiety to be channeled through the erudite rantings of Rachel Maddow as I pondered who cut her hair .
I felt a warm spark at seeing other people ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi ’ s vast freezer of ice cream !
Stacey Abrams ’ s bookshelf with a copy of The Night Tiger , a novel I ’ d been on the verge of ordering !
I felt connected to them .
I couldn ’ t , however , reconnect with myself .
Inertia settled around me like the fog I ’ d left behind in San Francisco—I couldn ’ t see the pen in my hand in front of my face .
Sunny weather filled my days as @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Birds trilled safely as if they knew they could mesmerize our indoor cats .
But if I read for more than three hours my eyes went blurry .
My back rebelled from sitting , although I was only halfway through 10 seasons of the British detective series Vera .
Even with my totally non-green thumb I was rewarded by my verdant backyard , a profusion of calla lilies , birds of paradise , and the struggling fuchsia I ’ d rescued from a plastic bin bag .
After dutifully watering , though @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and watch them grow .
Food for Hard Times and Pleasure—Kimchee Out of Anything More in this series Something was missing : the ebb and flow of traffic ; voices and laughter when people walked by , and any number of sounds that had underscored my life in the city .
I enjoy the click of a cricket as much as the next person , but the roll of tires slowing for the STOP sign at the corner had always been the click track of my life .
So , I retreated to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in search of my own rhythms .
I fell into them almost by accident .
I ’ ve been a longtime fan of the British radio soap opera The Archers , so I tuned in and was immediately soothed by various English accents , the evocation of a world continuing on .
I couldn ’ t write anyway , so I used listening to the radio online as a time to clear out the boxes still cluttering my office since we ’ d moved .
And here ’ s where I found what @ @ @ @ @ @ @ been a kind of white noise , without which I ’ d been perched between anxiety , waiting for something bad to happen ( and the bad kept happening—out there ) , and fury at the deaths brought about because of the ineptitude and greed emanating from the White House .
In the little cottage , once I ’ d disposed of the recycling that we humans tend to box up and lug from home to home , I dove into a large box of photographs .
There I was aged 9 in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ past tumbling out : my youthful great grandmother ; my best friend and I looking unbelievably dewy at our high school graduation ; a group of feminist poets after a benefit reading ; my first publisher and I when we were young enough to stand up all day at the American Booksellers Association ; a clipping from the fight against The New York Times over its coverage of AIDS ; and a kaleidoscope of handsome women with whom I ’ d been lovers over the previous 40 years .
That was what had @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a history that had always been sweet and dangerous , creatively rebellious , and persistent in the face of grief and greed .
I started to feel the heartbeat emerging from within .
The city sounds , my natural ( or learned ) soundtrack , were really only the background , like elevator music .
The faces and memories were pulses reconnecting me to the well of emotion and ideas that sparked my life and my writing .
They were the jump start I had needed .
Once the engine turned over , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ day into past , present , and future .
Now I spend some time continuing to organize old treasures whose roots in last century ’ s battles against oppression keep me upright .
For the future , I investigate what nonprofits could use my support to defeat voter suppression—again , as we did in the 1960s ; or to find safe places for those without shelter ; or gather food for out-of-work parents .
( I also plan what to wear when I do return to those urban sounds , and finally get @ @ @ @ @ @ @ first gay liberation march on its 51st anniversary . )
With the past and the future regular parts of my day , the now feels more compelling ; change seems more possible .
Now I ’ ll get back to my new play if it still wants me .
Scenes From a Pandemic is a collaboration between The Nation and Kopkind , a living memorial to radical journalist Andrew Kopkind , who from 1982–94 was the magazine ’ s chief political writer and analyst .
This series of dispatches from Kopkind ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ guests , and friends is edited by Nation contributor and Kopkind program director JoAnn Wypijewski , and appears weekly on thenation.com and kopkind.org .

EDITOR’S NOTE: The Nation believes that helping readers stay informed about the impact of the coronavirus crisis is a form of public service. For that reason, this article, and all of our coronavirus coverage, is now free. Please subscribe to support our writers and staff, and stay healthy.
O akland, C alif.—I am deeply urban. My shoes, clothes, eyeglasses, are all assembled with an understanding of how they relate to pavement, changeable weather, and the glare bouncing off city buildings. From Boston to New York City to San Francisco and Oakland, I’ve felt perfectly attuned to the cityscape. But with quarantine, everything went askew, as if I had turned a corner into the Twilight Zone.
We’d lived in Oakland for only several months before I left in January for New York City, where my play about Alberta Hunter was enjoying a successful run—an engagement that ended just before the coronavirus landed with both feet in the US. I returned to Oakland as the city was gearing up for lockdown. I thought this would be fortuitous; I’d write endlessly, perhaps in all genres. We had masks. We had access to food. I could read books for unending hours and watch movies and television shows till dawn. The money we previously spent on eating out, going to plays and movies we’d donate to relief efforts.
I have friends who have been teetering on the edge not of armed rebellion but of despondency. I restricted myself to one broadcast news show, allowing my anxiety to be channeled through the erudite rantings of Rachel Maddow as I pondered who cut her hair. I felt a warm spark at seeing other people’s homes in Zoom interviews of political/medical/legal experts. Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi’s vast freezer of ice cream! Stacey Abrams’s bookshelf with a copy of The Night Tiger, a novel I’d been on the verge of ordering! I felt connected to them.
I couldn’t, however, reconnect with myself. Inertia settled around me like the fog I’d left behind in San Francisco—I couldn’t see the pen in my hand in front of my face. Sunny weather filled my days as camellia blossoms burst forth in the backyard. Birds trilled safely as if they knew they could mesmerize our indoor cats.
But if I read for more than three hours my eyes went blurry. My back rebelled from sitting, although I was only halfway through 10 seasons of the British detective series Vera. Even with my totally non-green thumb I was rewarded by my verdant backyard, a profusion of calla lilies, birds of paradise, and the struggling fuchsia I’d rescued from a plastic bin bag. After dutifully watering, though, I couldn’t just sit and watch them grow. Scenes From a Pandemic Untethered, or The Year of Living Virtually Patricia J. Williams The Art of the Meal Mary Lewis Maybe We Shouldn’t Go Back to Normal Bri M.
Something was missing: the ebb and flow of traffic; voices and laughter when people walked by, and any number of sounds that had underscored my life in the city. I enjoy the click of a cricket as much as the next person, but the roll of tires slowing for the STOP sign at the corner had always been the click track of my life.
So, I retreated to the little cottage office in our backyard in search of my own rhythms. I fell into them almost by accident. I’ve been a longtime fan of the British radio soap opera The Archers, so I tuned in and was immediately soothed by various English accents, the evocation of a world continuing on. I couldn’t write anyway, so I used listening to the radio online as a time to clear out the boxes still cluttering my office since we’d moved. And here’s where I found what was missing. Popular "swipe left below to view more authors"Swipe → The Evisceration of a Public University The Evisceration of a Public University Lisa M. Corrigan The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks Chris Lehmann “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash Dave Zirin A Grim Chronicle of Trump’s Corrupt Public Life A Grim Chronicle of Trump’s Corrupt Public Life Chris Lehmann Popular "swipe left below to view more authors"Swipe → The Evisceration of a Public University The Evisceration of a Public University Lisa M. Corrigan The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks Chris Lehmann “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash Dave Zirin A Grim Chronicle of Trump’s Corrupt Public Life A Grim Chronicle of Trump’s Corrupt Public Life Chris Lehmann
The external sounds had been a kind of white noise, without which I’d been perched between anxiety, waiting for something bad to happen (and the bad kept happening—out there), and fury at the deaths brought about because of the ineptitude and greed emanating from the White House. Current Issue View our current issue
In the little cottage, once I’d disposed of the recycling that we humans tend to box up and lug from home to home, I dove into a large box of photographs. There I was aged 9 in my tap-dancing costume; there was the past tumbling out: my youthful great grandmother; my best friend and I looking unbelievably dewy at our high school graduation; a group of feminist poets after a benefit reading; my first publisher and I when we were young enough to stand up all day at the American Booksellers Association; a clipping from the fight against The New York Times over its coverage of AIDS; and a kaleidoscope of handsome women with whom I’d been lovers over the previous 40 years.
That was what had been missing—being deeply sunk into myself and a history that had always been sweet and dangerous, creatively rebellious, and persistent in the face of grief and greed. I started to feel the heartbeat emerging from within. The city sounds, my natural (or learned) soundtrack, were really only the background, like elevator music. The faces and memories were pulses reconnecting me to the well of emotion and ideas that sparked my life and my writing. They were the jump start I had needed.
Once the engine turned over, I figured out how to divide my day into past, present, and future. Now I spend some time continuing to organize old treasures whose roots in last century’s battles against oppression keep me upright. For the future, I investigate what nonprofits could use my support to defeat voter suppression—again, as we did in the 1960s; or to find safe places for those without shelter; or gather food for out-of-work parents. (I also plan what to wear when I do return to those urban sounds, and finally get to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the first gay liberation march on its 51st anniversary.) With the past and the future regular parts of my day, the now feels more compelling; change seems more possible. Now I’ll get back to my new play if it still wants me.
Scenes From a Pandemic is a collaboration between The Nation and Kopkind, a living memorial to radical journalist Andrew Kopkind, who from 1982–94 was the magazine’s chief political writer and analyst. This series of dispatches from Kopkind’s far-flung network of participants, advisers, guests, and friends is edited by Nation contributor and Kopkind program director JoAnn Wypijewski, and appears weekly on thenation.com and kopkind.org.


thenation--2020-06-24--Defund the Police. And the Military, Too.

In the wake of the police killing of George Floyd , Americans are finally—or is it once again ?
—confronting the racism that afflicts this country and extends into just about every corner of our national life .
Something fundamental just might be happening .
Yet , to state the obvious , we ’ ve been here before .
Mass protests in response to racial inequality and discrimination , including police brutality , have been anything but unknown in the United States .
Much the same can be said of riots targeting black Americans , fomented and exploited by white @ @ @ @ @ @ @ by local law enforcement officials .
If Jamil Abdullah Al-Amin , formerly known as H. Rap Brown , was correct in calling violence “ as American as cherry pie , ” then race-related urban unrest is the apple-filled equivalent .
The optimists among us believe that “ this time is different.
” I hope events will prove them right .
Yet recalling expectations that Barack Obama ’ s election in 2008 signaled the dawn of a “ post-racial America , ” I see no reason to expect it to be so .
A @ @ @ @ @ @ @ hope from reality .
Let me suggest , however , that the nation ’ s current preoccupation with race , as honorable and necessary as it may be , falls well short of adequately responding to the situation confronting Americans as they enter the third decade of the 21st century .
Racism is a massive problem , but hardly our only one .
Indeed , as Martin Luther King sought to remind us many years ago , there are at least two others of comparable magnitude .
In April 1967 , at New @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Dr. King delivered a sermon that offered a profound diagnosis of the illnesses afflicting the nation .
His analysis remains as timely today as it was then , perhaps more so .
Americans remember King primarily as a great civil rights leader , and indeed he was that .
In his Riverside Church address , however , he turned to matters that went far beyond race .
In an immediate sense , his focus was the ongoing Vietnam War , which he denounced as “ madness ” that “ must cease.
” Yet @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the nation to “ undergo a radical revolution of values ” that would transform the United States “ from a thing-oriented society to a person-oriented society.
” Only through such a revolution , he declared , would we be able to overcome “ the giant triplets of racism , extreme materialism , and militarism.
” The challenge confronting Americans was to dismantle what King referred to as the “ edifice ” that produced and sustained each of those giant triplets .
Today ’ s protesters , crusading journalists , and engaged intellectuals make @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the first of those giant triplets .
Yet they generally treat the other two as , at best , mere afterthoughts , while the edifice itself , resting on a perverse understanding of freedom , goes almost entirely ignored .
I ’ m not suggesting that members of the grand coalition of Americans today fervently campaigning against racism favor extreme materialism .
Many of them merely accept its reality and move on .
Nor am I suggesting that they consciously endorse militarism , although in confusing “ support ” for the troops with @ @ @ @ @ @ @ implicitly .
What I am suggesting is that those calling for fundamental change will go badly astray if they ignore King ’ s insistence that each of the giant triplets is intimately tied to the other two .
The protests triggered by the recent murders of George Floyd and other black Americans have produced widespread demands to “ defund the police.
” Those demands don ’ t come out of nowhere .
While “ reform ” programs undertaken in innumerable American cities over the course of many years have demonstrably enhanced police firepower @ @ @ @ @ @ @ anything , to repair relations between police departments and communities of color .
As an aging middle-class white male , I don ’ t fear cops .
I respect the fact that theirs is a tough job , which I would not want .
Yet I realize that my attitude is one more expression of white privilege , which black men , regardless of their age and economic status , can ill afford to indulge .
So I fully accept the need for radical changes in policing—that ’ s what “ defund ” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to have law enforcement agencies that are effective , humane , and themselves law-abiding .
What I can ’ t fathom is why a similar logic doesn ’ t apply to the armed forces that we employ to police huge chunks of the world beyond our borders .
If Americans have reason to question the nation ’ s increasingly militarized approach to law enforcement , then shouldn ’ t they have equal reason to question this country ’ s thoroughly militarized approach to statecraft ?
Consider this : On an annual basis , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ approximately 1,000 Americans , with black people two-and-a-half times more likely than whites to be victimized .
Those are appalling figures , indicative of basic policy gone fundamentally awry .
So the outpouring of protest over the police and demands for change are understandable and justified .
Still , the question must be asked : Why have the nation ’ s post-9/11 wars not prompted similar expressions of outrage ?
The unjustified killing of black Americans rightly finds thousands upon thousands of protesters flooding the streets of major cities .
Yet the loss @ @ @ @ @ @ @ physical and psychological wounds sustained by tens of thousands more in foolhardy wars elicits , at best , shrugs .
Throw in the hundreds of thousands of non-American lives taken in those military campaigns and the trillions of taxpayer dollars they have consumed and you have a catastrophe that easily exceeds in scale the myriad race-related protests and riots that have roiled American cities in the recent past .
With their eyes fixed on elections that are now just months away , politicians of all stripes spare no effort to show that they @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of race and policing .
Race may well play a large role in determining who wins the White House this November and which party controls Congress .
It should .
Yet while the election ’ s final outcome may be uncertain , this much is not : Neither the American propensity for war , nor the bloated size of the Pentagon budget , nor the dubious habit of maintaining a sprawling network of military bases across much of the planet will receive serious scrutiny during the political season now underway .
Militarism will @ @ @ @ @ @ @ King described the US government as “ the greatest purveyor of violence in the world today.
” So it unquestionably remains , perpetrating immeasurably more violence than any other great power and with remarkably little to show in return .
Why , then , except on the easily ignored fringes of American politics , are there no demands to “ defund ” the Pentagon ?
King considered the Vietnam War an abomination .
At that time , more than a few Americans agreed with him and vigorously demonstrated against the conflict ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ have seemingly chosen to file away our post-9/11 military misadventures under the heading of regrettable but forgettable is itself an abomination .
While their sensitivity to racism is admirable , their indifference to war is nothing short of disheartening .
In 1967 , King warned that “ a nation that continues year after year to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual death.
” During the intervening decades , his charge has lost none of its sting or aptness .
Given their size and duration @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of the murder of George Floyd have been remarkably peaceful .
That said , some of them did , early on , include rioters who resorted to looting .
Smashing windows and ransacking stores , they walked off not with milk and bread for the hungry but with shopping bags filled with high-end swag—designer shoes and sneakers , purses , clothing , and jewelry lifted from stores like Prada and Alexander McQueen .
Also stolen were smart phones , handguns , even automobiles .
In-store surveillance systems recorded scenes reminiscent of Black Friday @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to pass through a checkout counter .
Some looters quickly attempted to monetize their hauls by offering to sell purloined items online .
Certain right-wing commentators wasted no time in using the looting to tar the protest movement as little more than an expression of nihilism .
Tucker Carlson of Fox News was particularly emphatic on this point .
Americans taking to the streets in response to George Floyd ’ s murder , he said , “ reject society itself.
” To explain such selfish and destructive misconduct , Carlson had an answer @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , hateful stuff , and entirely wrong—except perhaps on one point .
In attributing the looting to a deeper cause , Carlson was on to something , even if his effort to pinpoint that cause was wildly off the mark .
I won ’ t try to unravel the specific motives of those who saw an opportunity in the protests against racism to help themselves to goods that were not theirs .
How much was righteous anger turned to rage and how much cynical opportunism is beyond my ability to know .
This @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for certain : The grab-all-you-can-get impulse so vividly on display was as all-American as fireworks on the Fourth of July .
Those looters , after all , merely wanted more stuff .
What could be more American than that ?
In this country , after all , stuff carries with it the possibility of personal fulfillment , of achieving some version of happiness or status .
The looters that Tucker Carlson targeted with his ire were doing anything but “ rejecting society itself.
” They were merely helping themselves to what this society @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sufficient cash and credit cards in their wallets .
In a sense , they were treating themselves to a tiny sip of what passes these days for the American Dream .
With the exception of cloistered nuns , hippies , and other vanishing breeds , virtually all Americans have been conditioned to buy into the proposition that stuff correlates with the good life .
Unconvinced ?
Check out the videos from last year ’ s Black Friday and then consider the intense , if unsurprising , interest of economists and journalists in tracking @ @ @ @ @ @ @ least until Covid-19 came along , consumer spending served as the authoritative measure of the nation ’ s overall health .
The primary civic obligation of US citizens today is not to vote or pay taxes .
And it ’ s certainly not to defend the country , a task offloaded onto those who can be enticed to enlist ( with minorities vastly overrepresented ) in the so-called All-Volunteer Military .
No , the primary obligation of citizenship is to spend .
Ours is not a nation of mystics , philosophers , poets @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s yeomen farmers .
We are now a nation of citizen-consumers , held in thrall to the extreme materialism that King decried .
This , not a commitment to liberty or democracy , has become our true national signature and our chief contribution to late modernity .
At Riverside Church , King reminded his listeners that the Southern Christian Leadership Conference , which he had helped to found a decade earlier , had chosen this as its motto : “ To save the soul of America.
” The soul of a nation corrupted @ @ @ @ @ @ @ materialism represented King ’ s ultimate concern .
Vietnam , he said , was “ but a symptom of a far deeper malady within the American spirit.
” In a tone-deaf editorial criticizing his Riverside Church sermon , The New York Times chastised King for “ fusing two public problems ” —racism and the Vietnam War— “ that are distinct and separate.
” Yet part of King ’ s genius lay in his ability to recognize the interconnectedness of matters that Times editors , as oblivious to deeper maladies then as they are @ @ @ @ @ @ @ King sought to tear down the edifice that sustained all three of those giant triplets .
Indeed , it is all but certain that , were he alive now , he would call similar attention to a fourth related factor : climate change denial .
The refusal to treat seriously the threat posed by climate change underwrites the persistence of racism , militarism , and extreme materialism .
During the course of his sermon , King quoted this sentence from the statement of a group that called itself the Clergy and Laymen Concerned @ @ @ @ @ @ @ when silence is betrayal.
” Regarding race , it appears that the great majority of Americans have now rejected such silence .
This is good .
It remains an open question , however , when their silent acceptance of militarism , materialism , and the abuse of Planet Earth will end .

EDITOR’S NOTE: This article originally appeared at TomDispatch.com. To stay on top of important articles like these, sign up to receive the latest updates from TomDispatch.
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In the wake of the police killing of George Floyd, Americans are finally—or is it once again?—confronting the racism that afflicts this country and extends into just about every corner of our national life. Something fundamental just might be happening.
Yet, to state the obvious, we’ve been here before. Mass protests in response to racial inequality and discrimination, including police brutality, have been anything but unknown in the United States. Much the same can be said of riots targeting black Americans, fomented and exploited by white racists, often actively or passively abetted by local law enforcement officials. If Jamil Abdullah Al-Amin, formerly known as H. Rap Brown, was correct in calling violence “as American as cherry pie,” then race-related urban unrest is the apple-filled equivalent.
The optimists among us believe that “this time is different.” I hope events will prove them right. Yet recalling expectations that Barack Obama’s election in 2008 signaled the dawn of a “post-racial America,” I see no reason to expect it to be so. A yawning gap, I fear, separates hope from reality.
Let me suggest, however, that the nation’s current preoccupation with race, as honorable and necessary as it may be, falls well short of adequately responding to the situation confronting Americans as they enter the third decade of the 21st century. Racism is a massive problem, but hardly our only one. Indeed, as Martin Luther King sought to remind us many years ago, there are at least two others of comparable magnitude.
MLK Defines the Problem
In April 1967, at New York City’s Riverside Church, Dr. King delivered a sermon that offered a profound diagnosis of the illnesses afflicting the nation. His analysis remains as timely today as it was then, perhaps more so.
Americans remember King primarily as a great civil rights leader, and indeed he was that. In his Riverside Church address, however, he turned to matters that went far beyond race. In an immediate sense, his focus was the ongoing Vietnam War, which he denounced as “madness” that “must cease.” Yet King also used the occasion to summon the nation to “undergo a radical revolution of values” that would transform the United States “from a thing-oriented society to a person-oriented society.” Only through such a revolution, he declared, would we be able to overcome “the giant triplets of racism, extreme materialism, and militarism.” Popular "swipe left below to view more authors"Swipe → The Evisceration of a Public University The Evisceration of a Public University Lisa M. Corrigan The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks Chris Lehmann “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash Dave Zirin A Grim Chronicle of Trump’s Corrupt Public Life A Grim Chronicle of Trump’s Corrupt Public Life Chris Lehmann Popular "swipe left below to view more authors"Swipe → The Evisceration of a Public University The Evisceration of a Public University Lisa M. Corrigan The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks Chris Lehmann “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash Dave Zirin A Grim Chronicle of Trump’s Corrupt Public Life A Grim Chronicle of Trump’s Corrupt Public Life Chris Lehmann
The challenge confronting Americans was to dismantle what King referred to as the “edifice” that produced and sustained each of those giant triplets. Today’s protesters, crusading journalists, and engaged intellectuals make no bones about their determination to eliminate the first of those giant triplets. Yet they generally treat the other two as, at best, mere afterthoughts, while the edifice itself, resting on a perverse understanding of freedom, goes almost entirely ignored. Current Issue View our current issue
I’m not suggesting that members of the grand coalition of Americans today fervently campaigning against racism favor extreme materialism. Many of them merely accept its reality and move on. Nor am I suggesting that they consciously endorse militarism, although in confusing “support” for the troops with genuine patriotism some of them do so implicitly. What I am suggesting is that those calling for fundamental change will go badly astray if they ignore King’s insistence that each of the giant triplets is intimately tied to the other two.
Defund the Pentagon?
The protests triggered by the recent murders of George Floyd and other black Americans have produced widespread demands to “defund the police.” Those demands don’t come out of nowhere. While “reform” programs undertaken in innumerable American cities over the course of many years have demonstrably enhanced police firepower, they have done little, if anything, to repair relations between police departments and communities of color.
As an aging middle-class white male, I don’t fear cops. I respect the fact that theirs is a tough job, which I would not want. Yet I realize that my attitude is one more expression of white privilege, which black men, regardless of their age and economic status, can ill afford to indulge. So I fully accept the need for radical changes in policing—that’s what “defund” appears to imply—if American cities are ever to have law enforcement agencies that are effective, humane, and themselves law-abiding.
What I can’t fathom is why a similar logic doesn’t apply to the armed forces that we employ to police huge chunks of the world beyond our borders. If Americans have reason to question the nation’s increasingly militarized approach to law enforcement, then shouldn’t they have equal reason to question this country’s thoroughly militarized approach to statecraft?
Consider this: On an annual basis, police officers in the United States kill approximately 1,000 Americans, with black people two-and-a-half times more likely than whites to be victimized. Those are appalling figures, indicative of basic policy gone fundamentally awry. So the outpouring of protest over the police and demands for change are understandable and justified.
Still, the question must be asked: Why have the nation’s post-9/11 wars not prompted similar expressions of outrage? The unjustified killing of black Americans rightly finds thousands upon thousands of protesters flooding the streets of major cities. Yet the loss of thousands of American soldiers and the physical and psychological wounds sustained by tens of thousands more in foolhardy wars elicits, at best, shrugs. Throw in the hundreds of thousands of non-American lives taken in those military campaigns and the trillions of taxpayer dollars they have consumed and you have a catastrophe that easily exceeds in scale the myriad race-related protests and riots that have roiled American cities in the recent past.
With their eyes fixed on elections that are now just months away, politicians of all stripes spare no effort to show that they “get it” on the issue of race and policing. Race may well play a large role in determining who wins the White House this November and which party controls Congress. It should. Yet while the election’s final outcome may be uncertain, this much is not: Neither the American propensity for war, nor the bloated size of the Pentagon budget, nor the dubious habit of maintaining a sprawling network of military bases across much of the planet will receive serious scrutiny during the political season now underway. Militarism will escape unscathed.
At Riverside Church, King described the US government as “the greatest purveyor of violence in the world today.” So it unquestionably remains, perpetrating immeasurably more violence than any other great power and with remarkably little to show in return. Why, then, except on the easily ignored fringes of American politics, are there no demands to “defund” the Pentagon?
King considered the Vietnam War an abomination. At that time, more than a few Americans agreed with him and vigorously demonstrated against the conflict’s continuation. That today’s demonstrators have seemingly chosen to file away our post-9/11 military misadventures under the heading of regrettable but forgettable is itself an abomination. While their sensitivity to racism is admirable, their indifference to war is nothing short of disheartening.
In 1967, King warned that “a nation that continues year after year to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual death.” During the intervening decades, his charge has lost none of its sting or aptness.
America’s National Signature
Given their size and duration, the protests occurring in the wake of the murder of George Floyd have been remarkably peaceful. That said, some of them did, early on, include rioters who resorted to looting. Smashing windows and ransacking stores, they walked off not with milk and bread for the hungry but with shopping bags filled with high-end swag—designer shoes and sneakers, purses, clothing, and jewelry lifted from stores like Prada and Alexander McQueen. Also stolen were smart phones, handguns, even automobiles. In-store surveillance systems recorded scenes reminiscent of Black Friday doorbuster sales, though without anyone bothering to pass through a checkout counter. Some looters quickly attempted to monetize their hauls by offering to sell purloined items online.
Certain right-wing commentators wasted no time in using the looting to tar the protest movement as little more than an expression of nihilism. Tucker Carlson of Fox News was particularly emphatic on this point. Americans taking to the streets in response to George Floyd’s murder, he said, “reject society itself.”
Reason and process and precedent mean nothing to them. They use violence to get what they want immediately. People like this don’t bother to work. They don’t volunteer or pay taxes to help other people. They live for themselves. They do exactly what they feel like doing.… On television, hour by hour, we watch these people—criminal mobs—destroy what the rest of us have built…
To explain such selfish and destructive misconduct, Carlson had an answer readily at hand:
The ideologues will tell you that the problem is race relations, or capitalism, or police brutality, or global warming. But only on the surface. The real cause is deeper than that and it’s far darker. What you’re watching is the ancient battle between those who have a stake in society, and would like to preserve it, and those who don’t, and seek to destroy it.
This is vile, hateful stuff, and entirely wrong—except perhaps on one point. In attributing the looting to a deeper cause, Carlson was on to something, even if his effort to pinpoint that cause was wildly off the mark.
I won’t try to unravel the specific motives of those who saw an opportunity in the protests against racism to help themselves to goods that were not theirs. How much was righteous anger turned to rage and how much cynical opportunism is beyond my ability to know.
This much, however, can be said for certain: The grab-all-you-can-get impulse so vividly on display was as all-American as fireworks on the Fourth of July. Those looters, after all, merely wanted more stuff. What could be more American than that? In this country, after all, stuff carries with it the possibility of personal fulfillment, of achieving some version of happiness or status.
The looters that Tucker Carlson targeted with his ire were doing anything but “rejecting society itself.” They were merely helping themselves to what this society today has on offer for those with sufficient cash and credit cards in their wallets. In a sense, they were treating themselves to a tiny sip of what passes these days for the American Dream.
With the exception of cloistered nuns, hippies, and other vanishing breeds, virtually all Americans have been conditioned to buy into the proposition that stuff correlates with the good life. Unconvinced? Check out the videos from last year’s Black Friday and then consider the intense, if unsurprising, interest of economists and journalists in tracking the latest consumer spending trends. At least until Covid-19 came along, consumer spending served as the authoritative measure of the nation’s overall health.
The primary civic obligation of US citizens today is not to vote or pay taxes. And it’s certainly not to defend the country, a task offloaded onto those who can be enticed to enlist (with minorities vastly overrepresented) in the so-called All-Volunteer Military. No, the primary obligation of citizenship is to spend.
Ours is not a nation of mystics, philosophers, poets, artisans, or Thomas Jefferson’s yeomen farmers. We are now a nation of citizen-consumers, held in thrall to the extreme materialism that King decried. This, not a commitment to liberty or democracy, has become our true national signature and our chief contribution to late modernity.
Tearing Down the Edifice
At Riverside Church, King reminded his listeners that the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, which he had helped to found a decade earlier, had chosen this as its motto: “To save the soul of America.” The soul of a nation corrupted by racism, militarism, and extreme materialism represented King’s ultimate concern. Vietnam, he said, was “but a symptom of a far deeper malady within the American spirit.”
In a tone-deaf editorial criticizing his Riverside Church sermon, The New York Times chastised King for “fusing two public problems”—racism and the Vietnam War—“that are distinct and separate.” Yet part of King’s genius lay in his ability to recognize the interconnectedness of matters that Times editors, as oblivious to deeper maladies then as they are today, wish to keep separate. King sought to tear down the edifice that sustained all three of those giant triplets. Indeed, it is all but certain that, were he alive now, he would call similar attention to a fourth related factor: climate change denial. The refusal to treat seriously the threat posed by climate change underwrites the persistence of racism, militarism, and extreme materialism.
During the course of his sermon, King quoted this sentence from the statement of a group that called itself the Clergy and Laymen Concerned About Vietnam: “A time comes when silence is betrayal.” Regarding race, it appears that the great majority of Americans have now rejected such silence. This is good. It remains an open question, however, when their silent acceptance of militarism, materialism, and the abuse of Planet Earth will end.


thenation--2020-06-24--The Next Politics Is All About Movements—and It’s Winning

In June 2018 , the results of a New York City congressional primary woke people up to the prospect that a new politics might upend the status quo within the Democratic Party and across the nation .
A democratic socialist who had worked on the 2016 presidential campaign of Bernie Sanders , and who ran a grassroots campaign that championed economic , social , and racial justice , defeated one of the top Democrats in the House of Representatives .
And suddenly everyone was talking about Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez .
But a lot of the talk was dismissive : She upset @ @ @ @ @ @ @ paying attention , we were told .
It was a low-turnout election that drew fewer than 30,000 voters .
The leader of the Democrats in the House , Nancy Pelosi , pointedly rejected the notion that AOC ’ s win represented a seismic shift in the party ’ s direction .
It was a result of one race in one district ; she warned , “ It is not to be viewed as something that stands for everything else.
” Then came June 2020 .
Against a well-funded challenge from a former CNBC @ @ @ @ @ @ @ new incumbent was out of touch with the Bronx and Queens , AOC was winning bigger .
A lot bigger .
In a multicandidate field , the incumbent was securing almost 73 percent of the vote in the initial count from Tuesday ’ s primary .
Indeed , with many absentee ballots yet to be tabulated , she already had more than 27,000 votes—close to the combined vote that she and former representative Joe Crowley accumulated two years ago .
“ When I won in 2018 , many dismissed our victory as a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ as an aberration , or because my opponent ‘ didn ’ t try , ’ ” said Ocasio-Cortez as the magnitude of her win in the city ’ s 14th congressional district was becoming clear on Tuesday night .
“ So from the start , tonight ’ s race was important to me .
Tonight we are proving that the people ’ s movement in New York isn ’ t an accident .
It ’ s a mandate.
” Charles Booker Is Determined to Fight Voter Suppression in Kentucky Charles Booker Is the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Mitch McConnell For ‘ Police Accountability With Teeth , ’ Citizens Demand Elected and Empowered Oversight Boards That mandate challenges the Democratic Party to embrace Medicare for All , a Green New Deal , a federal jobs guarantee , an end to mass incarceration .
It asks , as does AOC : “ What if a better world is possible ?
” And it suggests that possibility can be turned to reality by recognizing that systemic problems can only be addressed by “ fighting for systemic solutions.
” This insurgent vision , which @ @ @ @ @ @ @ dismissed , was taking hold in Democratic primaries on Tuesday .
Candidates , many of them newcomers challenging incumbents and the party establishment , many of them supported by activists with groups such as the Sunrise Movement , were opening up leads in critical New York races and stood a chance of winning contests as far away as Kentucky .
This was about more than individuals , even individuals as prominent as AOC has become .
This was about movements , and the political possibilities that are revealed when candidates embrace them .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ former middle school principal Jamaal Bowman was leading House Foreign Affairs Committee chair Eliot Engel by a 62-35 margin in 16th District Democratic primary .
“ I can not wait to get to Congress and cause problems for the people in there that have been maintaining a status quo that has literally been killing our children , ” the outspoken supporter of # BlackLivesMatter protests told supporters on election night .
“ You know what Donald Trump is more afraid of than anything else ?
A black man with power .
That is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Supported by Ocasio-Cortez and prominent national progressives such as Sanders and Massachusetts Senator Elizabeth Warren , Bowman ran a values-based campaign that finished with the candidate telling supporters , “ Our movement is designed to restore that faith , to restore that hope , to bring back the belief in what is possible , to root our values in everything we do.
” Such a movement , he said , must be prepared to take on leaders of both parties .
“ It will be our job to hold Donald Trump accountable and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ continues to be beholden to corporate interests , that continues to be beholden to the wealthy , that is not fighting for the poor and is not fighting for the working class in our country.
” In the suburban 17th district , Mondaire Jones , a 33-year-old lawyer who was also endorsed by Warren , Sanders , and AOC , was accepting congratulations for moving significantly ahead of a crowded field in the race for the Democratic nomination for the open seat of retiring House Appropriations Committee chair Nita Lowry .
“ I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” he told supporters Tuesday night , adding that “ sometimes an idea is so powerful that it becomes an unstoppable force : a movement !
” Jones , who could become the first openly gay African American member of Congress , told the crowd , “ This is for [ former Texas US representative ] Barbara Jordan , that powerful voice in the United States House of Representatives who could not live an authentic life .
This is for Bayard Rustin , the architect of the March on Washington , who could @ @ @ @ @ @ @ King because of the scandal of who he loved .
This is for [ former San Francisco Supervisor ] Harvey Milk , who literally died as a pioneer for people like me .
I am so grateful to the folks on whose shoulders I stand.
” On a night that saw progressives pulling ahead in congressional and legislative primaries all over New York—some with support from AOC ; some , like 32-year-old South Bronx congressional candidate Ritchie Torres , without it—these breakthrough bids by young contenders who have pushed the boundaries of traditional @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 2018 was not a fluke .
There is a change taking place in our politics .
New ideas are being adopted .
New coalitions are being built .
Nowhere was that more true than in Kentucky , where US Senate candidate Charles Booker was holding his own in a race for the Democratic nomination to take on Mitch McConnell .
With days to go before the count is complete , the African American state legislator was just 4,000 votes behind Amy McGrath , the candidate tapped by Democratic leaders in Washington to take @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s hopes rest on the fact that two of the counties where he is expected to run strongest , Jefferson ( Louisville ) and Fayette ( Lexington ) , are not expected to release results until Tuesday , June 30 , when all mail-in ballots are counted .
With the prospect of an electoral windfall coming his way , Booker was celebrating Tuesday night with supporters who hailed the 35-year African American legislator ’ s vision of a movement that unites African Americans in his hometown of Louisville with rural white voters @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” Charles Booker Is Determined to Fight Voter Suppression in Kentucky “ We are on the verge of something big .
We are making History , Herstory , Theirstory , Ourstory…in real time , ” announced Booker .
“ The results are coming in , and we are fired up .
It may take a couple days for the final vote , but we are ready to bring this home.
” Unlike in the New York contests , where a Democratic primary victory virtually assures election in November , the biggest fight for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ he is confident that this new politics will prevail .
“ Only a movement can beat Mitch McConnell , ” he argues .
“ We are the people he has ignored for decades .
Black , Brown , and White Kentuckians , from the hood to the holler , we are rising up .
We were so invisible to him , he never saw us coming .
”

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In June 2018, the results of a New York City congressional primary woke people up to the prospect that a new politics might upend the status quo within the Democratic Party and across the nation. A democratic socialist who had worked on the 2016 presidential campaign of Bernie Sanders, and who ran a grassroots campaign that championed economic, social, and racial justice, defeated one of the top Democrats in the House of Representatives. And suddenly everyone was talking about Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.
But a lot of the talk was dismissive: She upset a 10-term incumbent who wasn’t paying attention, we were told. It was a low-turnout election that drew fewer than 30,000 voters. The leader of the Democrats in the House, Nancy Pelosi, pointedly rejected the notion that AOC’s win represented a seismic shift in the party’s direction. It was a result of one race in one district; she warned, “It is not to be viewed as something that stands for everything else.”
Then came June 2020. Against a well-funded challenge from a former CNBC anchor who tried to suggest that the new incumbent was out of touch with the Bronx and Queens, AOC was winning bigger. A lot bigger. In a multicandidate field, the incumbent was securing almost 73 percent of the vote in the initial count from Tuesday’s primary. Indeed, with many absentee ballots yet to be tabulated, she already had more than 27,000 votes—close to the combined vote that she and former representative Joe Crowley accumulated two years ago.
“When I won in 2018, many dismissed our victory as a ‘fluke.’ Our win was treated as an aberration, or because my opponent ‘didn’t try,’” said Ocasio-Cortez as the magnitude of her win in the city’s 14th congressional district was becoming clear on Tuesday night. “So from the start, tonight’s race was important to me. Tonight we are proving that the people’s movement in New York isn’t an accident. It’s a mandate.” More From John Nichols A GOP Debate Without Trump Is the Definition of Pointlessness August 11, 2023 A Win for Abortion Rights, a Win for Democracy: Ohio Voters Reject Issue 1 August 9, 2023 The Biggest Threat to Donald Trump Could Be the Constitution Itself August 4, 2023
That mandate challenges the Democratic Party to embrace Medicare for All, a Green New Deal, a federal jobs guarantee, an end to mass incarceration. It asks, as does AOC: “What if a better world is possible?” And it suggests that possibility can be turned to reality by recognizing that systemic problems can only be addressed by “fighting for systemic solutions.”
This insurgent vision, which just two years ago was so frequently dismissed, was taking hold in Democratic primaries on Tuesday. Candidates, many of them newcomers challenging incumbents and the party establishment, many of them supported by activists with groups such as the Sunrise Movement, were opening up leads in critical New York races and stood a chance of winning contests as far away as Kentucky. This was about more than individuals, even individuals as prominent as AOC has become. This was about movements, and the political possibilities that are revealed when candidates embrace them. Popular "swipe left below to view more authors"Swipe → The Evisceration of a Public University The Evisceration of a Public University Lisa M. Corrigan The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks Chris Lehmann “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash Dave Zirin A Grim Chronicle of Trump’s Corrupt Public Life A Grim Chronicle of Trump’s Corrupt Public Life Chris Lehmann Popular "swipe left below to view more authors"Swipe → The Evisceration of a Public University The Evisceration of a Public University Lisa M. Corrigan The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks Chris Lehmann “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash Dave Zirin A Grim Chronicle of Trump’s Corrupt Public Life A Grim Chronicle of Trump’s Corrupt Public Life Chris Lehmann
In the Bronx and Westchester County, former middle school principal Jamaal Bowman was leading House Foreign Affairs Committee chair Eliot Engel by a 62-35 margin in 16th District Democratic primary. “I cannot wait to get to Congress and cause problems for the people in there that have been maintaining a status quo that has literally been killing our children,” the outspoken supporter of #BlackLivesMatter protests told supporters on election night. “You know what Donald Trump is more afraid of than anything else? A black man with power. That is what Donald Trump is afraid of.” Current Issue View our current issue
Supported by Ocasio-Cortez and prominent national progressives such as Sanders and Massachusetts Senator Elizabeth Warren, Bowman ran a values-based campaign that finished with the candidate telling supporters, “Our movement is designed to restore that faith, to restore that hope, to bring back the belief in what is possible, to root our values in everything we do.” Such a movement, he said, must be prepared to take on leaders of both parties. “It will be our job to hold Donald Trump accountable and to hold every elected official accountable that continues to be beholden to corporate interests, that continues to be beholden to the wealthy, that is not fighting for the poor and is not fighting for the working class in our country.”
In the suburban 17th district, Mondaire Jones, a 33-year-old lawyer who was also endorsed by Warren, Sanders, and AOC, was accepting congratulations for moving significantly ahead of a crowded field in the race for the Democratic nomination for the open seat of retiring House Appropriations Committee chair Nita Lowry. “I have talked about big structural changes,” he told supporters Tuesday night, adding that “sometimes an idea is so powerful that it becomes an unstoppable force: a movement!” Jones, who could become the first openly gay African American member of Congress, told the crowd, “This is for [former Texas US representative] Barbara Jordan, that powerful voice in the United States House of Representatives who could not live an authentic life. This is for Bayard Rustin, the architect of the March on Washington, who could not publicly be associated with Martin Luther King because of the scandal of who he loved. This is for [former San Francisco Supervisor] Harvey Milk, who literally died as a pioneer for people like me. I am so grateful to the folks on whose shoulders I stand.”
On a night that saw progressives pulling ahead in congressional and legislative primaries all over New York—some with support from AOC; some, like 32-year-old South Bronx congressional candidate Ritchie Torres, without it—these breakthrough bids by young contenders who have pushed the boundaries of traditional politics were confirming that what happened in 2018 was not a fluke. There is a change taking place in our politics. New ideas are being adopted. New coalitions are being built.
Nowhere was that more true than in Kentucky, where US Senate candidate Charles Booker was holding his own in a race for the Democratic nomination to take on Mitch McConnell. With days to go before the count is complete, the African American state legislator was just 4,000 votes behind Amy McGrath, the candidate tapped by Democratic leaders in Washington to take on the Senate majority leader. Booker’s hopes rest on the fact that two of the counties where he is expected to run strongest, Jefferson (Louisville) and Fayette (Lexington), are not expected to release results until Tuesday, June 30, when all mail-in ballots are counted.
With the prospect of an electoral windfall coming his way, Booker was celebrating Tuesday night with supporters who hailed the 35-year African American legislator’s vision of a movement that unites African Americans in his hometown of Louisville with rural white voters “from the hood to the holler.” Related Article Charles Booker Is Determined to Fight Voter Suppression in Kentucky John Nichols
“We are on the verge of something big. We are making History, Herstory, Theirstory, Ourstory…in real time,” announced Booker. “The results are coming in, and we are fired up. It may take a couple days for the final vote, but we are ready to bring this home.”
Unlike in the New York contests, where a Democratic primary victory virtually assures election in November, the biggest fight for Booker is yet to come. But he is confident that this new politics will prevail. “Only a movement can beat Mitch McConnell,” he argues. “We are the people he has ignored for decades. Black, Brown, and White Kentuckians, from the hood to the holler, we are rising up. We were so invisible to him, he never saw us coming.”


thenation--2020-06-24--Unions Are Taking a Stand for Black Lives

Last Friday morning , thousands made their way to the Port of Oakland to gather for one of many national mobilizations planned for Juneteenth , commemorating the end of slavery in the United States .
In what has emerged as a daily ritual in many American cities , protesters carried placards denouncing systemic racism and expressing solidarity with black Americans killed by law enforcement .
But in Oakland , the proceedings went a step further , bringing economic activity to a halt at one of the busiest ports in the United States .
The action was one of 29 port @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to San Diego , organized by the International Longshore and Warehouse Union ( ILWU ) , which has a strong history of throwing its weight behind demands for racial justice .
After weeks of protests across the country , Friday ’ s mobilization offered a fresh glimpse at the intersection of organized labor and anti-racist activism—one that many at the rally hoped would gain momentum moving forward .
“ You represent the potential and the power of the labor movement , ” said Angela Davis , the activist and former member of the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ crowd .
“ Whenever the ILWU takes a stand , the world feels the reverberations , ” she said , listing the dockworker union ’ s history of activism—against , for example , the internment of Japanese Americans and apartheid in South Africa , in support of civil rights , and in solidarity with past victims of police violence .
On Friday , ILWU Local 10 , which is majority black , joined forces with other ILWU locals and Bay Area social justice organizations , not just calling to divest from Oakland ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of public spending—but to denounce a rezoning project that would transform the port into a sprawling complex with a sports stadium , condominiums , and mixed retail .
Protesters marching through Oakland chanting , “ Stop the cranes and say their names , ” drew attention to the racist undercurrents not just of law enforcement but of urban policy , and the urgent overlap between workers ’ rights , economic equality , and racial justice .
Dockworkers to Shut Down West Coast Ports in Memory of George Floyd Oakland , the birthplace of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the fastest-gentrifying US cities , puts that dynamic into sharp relief .
Between 2000 and 2016 , city police killed 90 people , three-quarters of whom were black .
And like other cities in the Bay Area , Oakland has seen a massive spike in housing costs that has pushed out people of color and low-income residents .
In 1980 , black residents made up nearly half of the city ’ s population ; today , they make up less than a quarter .
West Oakland , where the port is located and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , has been a focal point in the city ’ s gentrification .
For Cat Brooks , the executive director of the Justice Teams Network , a California-based organization that advocates racial justice , the convergence of labor and racial justice should be clear—in Oakland , and nationally .
“ People always think about labor and community , but labor is community , ” she said .
“ When you look at unions , the vast majority are black and brown , and the vast majority of people targeted by state violence are @ @ @ @ @ @ @ not just about state violence , but about economic violence , ” she added .
The privatization of the port , she explained , can ’ t be divorced from the broader fight for racial justice , and has strong parallels to rezoning projects in other US cities .
“ Today , we ’ re collectively having a conversation about what kind of community we want to live in .
One where working-class people can ’ t afford to live ?
A city with no remnants of its black community , where officials @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” The protesters who turned out on Friday echoed that sentiment .
For local activist Jazmin Garces , 20 , the scene in Oakland was a microcosm of broader national tensions .
“ We need to send a message that private development often adds to discrimination against black and brown laborers , and that ’ s not something that ’ s been said loudly enough .
So many black and brown people work here at the port , ” she said .
The action , she added , was a reminder that police @ @ @ @ @ @ @ racism .
Others stressed that labor should seize on the current moment to strengthen its alliance with those calling for an end to violent policing and demanding disinvestment from law enforcement .
“ We ’ re at a turning point in history and labor has to use its power , or we ’ re going to lose it , ” said Becca Lewis , 39 , who traveled from Portland for the Oakland rally .
“ The working class has an immense amount of power to actually withhold their labor and shut things @ @ @ @ @ @ @ have “ been way too slow to react to Black Lives Matter , partly because they ’ re still harboring police inside of the movement.
” Friday ’ s action hints at a new opportunity for collaboration between organized labor and anti-racism advocacy , potentially even further than ILWU has achieved before .
“ What the ILWU pulled off is unprecedented , ” said Peter Cole , a historian at Western Illinois University who published a book about Bay Area dockworkers and racial justice .
Last week ’ s mobilization , he noted @ @ @ @ @ @ @ union ’ s local chapters than in the past .
“ It ’ s the first time an entire union has taken such a bold stance on behalf of something that for many people , may not seem like it has anything directly to do with the union.
” Outrage over the pandemic ’ s disproportionate toll on working-class black and Latinx Americans has contributed to that momentum .
“ There ’ s been this perception that the working class is white and racist , ” Cole said .
“ But now everyone @ @ @ @ @ @ @ majority of working-class people are in fact nonwhite.
” “ Black and brown people are losing loved ones .
They ’ re the essential workers at the grocery store , and at the post office , ” Brooks said .
“ And then on top of that , now you ’ re going to kneel on our necks , too ?
” Covid-19 ’ s racial disparities , coupled with the recent spate of anti-black violence , she said , have “ combined to create an explosion of working-class rage with a racial @ @ @ @ @ @ @ national scale .
The alignment has been building over the past several years , as labor unions have increasingly worked in step with Black Lives Matter , responding to multinationals ’ attempts to block unionization among majority-black labor forces .
Union leadership , long notorious for being “ pale , male , and stale , ” is also becoming more diverse , with growing representation of women and people of color in high-ranking positions—including at the ILWU , which named its first black international president , William Adams , in 2018 .
While @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the ILWU ’ s mission , other unions are now displaying a heightened concern for racial justice—in part by reassessing the presence of police among their ranks .
Last week in Washington state , King County ’ s largest labor council expelled the Seattle Police Officers ’ Guild , responding to protesters ’ demands .
On Friday , the SEIU , one of the most powerful unions in the United States with a membership of 2 million , pledged to align itself with the Movement for Black Lives , called to divest from @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to eliminate police unions from the labor movement .
On Monday , Workers United in Upstate New York , which represents nearly 10,000 workers in New York state , called on the AFL-CIO , the largest federation of unions in the country , to cut ties with the International Union of Police Associations , the coalition ’ s largest police union .
“ This is a really interesting moment , where folks are trying to do better , ” Brooks said .
“ If the AFL-CIO says its mission is to protect working-class @ @ @ @ @ @ @ forces that harm working-class bodies ?
” Actions like Friday ’ s , Cole said , “ show how powerful it is to hold an eight-hour strike .
It sends the message that unions don ’ t just fight for their members—they fight for causes .
”

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Last Friday morning, thousands made their way to the Port of Oakland to gather for one of many national mobilizations planned for Juneteenth, commemorating the end of slavery in the United States. In what has emerged as a daily ritual in many American cities, protesters carried placards denouncing systemic racism and expressing solidarity with black Americans killed by law enforcement. But in Oakland, the proceedings went a step further, bringing economic activity to a halt at one of the busiest ports in the United States.
The action was one of 29 port shutdowns along the West Coast from Seattle to San Diego, organized by the International Longshore and Warehouse Union (ILWU), which has a strong history of throwing its weight behind demands for racial justice. After weeks of protests across the country, Friday’s mobilization offered a fresh glimpse at the intersection of organized labor and anti-racist activism—one that many at the rally hoped would gain momentum moving forward.
“You represent the potential and the power of the labor movement,” said Angela Davis, the activist and former member of the Black Panther Party, to the assembled crowd. “Whenever the ILWU takes a stand, the world feels the reverberations,” she said, listing the dockworker union’s history of activism—against, for example, the internment of Japanese Americans and apartheid in South Africa, in support of civil rights, and in solidarity with past victims of police violence.
On Friday, ILWU Local 10, which is majority black, joined forces with other ILWU locals and Bay Area social justice organizations, not just calling to divest from Oakland’s bloated police department—which receives 44 percent of public spending—but to denounce a rezoning project that would transform the port into a sprawling complex with a sports stadium, condominiums, and mixed retail. Protesters marching through Oakland chanting, “Stop the cranes and say their names,” drew attention to the racist undercurrents not just of law enforcement but of urban policy, and the urgent overlap between workers’ rights, economic equality, and racial justice. On the waterfront Dockworkers to Shut Down West Coast Ports in Memory of George Floyd Daniel Boguslaw
Oakland, the birthplace of the Black Panther Party and one of the fastest-gentrifying US cities, puts that dynamic into sharp relief. Between 2000 and 2016, city police killed 90 people, three-quarters of whom were black. And like other cities in the Bay Area, Oakland has seen a massive spike in housing costs that has pushed out people of color and low-income residents. In 1980, black residents made up nearly half of the city’s population; today, they make up less than a quarter. West Oakland, where the port is located and serves as a critical source of employment, has been a focal point in the city’s gentrification. Popular "swipe left below to view more authors"Swipe → The Evisceration of a Public University The Evisceration of a Public University Lisa M. Corrigan The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks Chris Lehmann “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash Dave Zirin A Grim Chronicle of Trump’s Corrupt Public Life A Grim Chronicle of Trump’s Corrupt Public Life Chris Lehmann Popular "swipe left below to view more authors"Swipe → The Evisceration of a Public University The Evisceration of a Public University Lisa M. Corrigan The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks Chris Lehmann “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash Dave Zirin A Grim Chronicle of Trump’s Corrupt Public Life A Grim Chronicle of Trump’s Corrupt Public Life Chris Lehmann
For Cat Brooks, the executive director of the Justice Teams Network, a California-based organization that advocates racial justice, the convergence of labor and racial justice should be clear—in Oakland, and nationally. “People always think about labor and community, but labor is community,” she said. “When you look at unions, the vast majority are black and brown, and the vast majority of people targeted by state violence are black and brown. It’s not just about state violence, but about economic violence,” she added.
The privatization of the port, she explained, can’t be divorced from the broader fight for racial justice, and has strong parallels to rezoning projects in other US cities. “Today, we’re collectively having a conversation about what kind of community we want to live in. One where working-class people can’t afford to live? A city with no remnants of its black community, where officials are bought off by powerful developers?” Current Issue View our current issue
The protesters who turned out on Friday echoed that sentiment. For local activist Jazmin Garces, 20, the scene in Oakland was a microcosm of broader national tensions. “We need to send a message that private development often adds to discrimination against black and brown laborers, and that’s not something that’s been said loudly enough. So many black and brown people work here at the port,” she said. The action, she added, was a reminder that police violence is one element of broader structural racism.
Others stressed that labor should seize on the current moment to strengthen its alliance with those calling for an end to violent policing and demanding disinvestment from law enforcement. “We’re at a turning point in history and labor has to use its power, or we’re going to lose it,” said Becca Lewis, 39, who traveled from Portland for the Oakland rally. “The working class has an immense amount of power to actually withhold their labor and shut things down.” Unions, she added, have “been way too slow to react to Black Lives Matter, partly because they’re still harboring police inside of the movement.”
Friday’s action hints at a new opportunity for collaboration between organized labor and anti-racism advocacy, potentially even further than ILWU has achieved before. “What the ILWU pulled off is unprecedented,” said Peter Cole, a historian at Western Illinois University who published a book about Bay Area dockworkers and racial justice. Last week’s mobilization, he noted, drew in far more of the union’s local chapters than in the past. “It’s the first time an entire union has taken such a bold stance on behalf of something that for many people, may not seem like it has anything directly to do with the union.”
Outrage over the pandemic’s disproportionate toll on working-class black and Latinx Americans has contributed to that momentum. “There’s been this perception that the working class is white and racist,” Cole said. “But now everyone sees it’s clear that the majority of working-class people are in fact nonwhite.”
“Black and brown people are losing loved ones. They’re the essential workers at the grocery store, and at the post office,” Brooks said. “And then on top of that, now you’re going to kneel on our necks, too?”
Covid-19’s racial disparities, coupled with the recent spate of anti-black violence, she said, have “combined to create an explosion of working-class rage with a racial dimension,” playing out on a national scale.
The alignment has been building over the past several years, as labor unions have increasingly worked in step with Black Lives Matter, responding to multinationals’ attempts to block unionization among majority-black labor forces. Union leadership, long notorious for being “pale, male, and stale,” is also becoming more diverse, with growing representation of women and people of color in high-ranking positions—including at the ILWU, which named its first black international president, William Adams, in 2018.
While that collaboration has long been central to the ILWU’s mission, other unions are now displaying a heightened concern for racial justice—in part by reassessing the presence of police among their ranks. Last week in Washington state, King County’s largest labor council expelled the Seattle Police Officers’ Guild, responding to protesters’ demands. On Friday, the SEIU, one of the most powerful unions in the United States with a membership of 2 million, pledged to align itself with the Movement for Black Lives, called to divest from the police, and acknowledged the demand to eliminate police unions from the labor movement. On Monday, Workers United in Upstate New York, which represents nearly 10,000 workers in New York state, called on the AFL-CIO, the largest federation of unions in the country, to cut ties with the International Union of Police Associations, the coalition’s largest police union.
“This is a really interesting moment, where folks are trying to do better,” Brooks said. “If the AFL-CIO says its mission is to protect working-class people, how can they ally with forces that harm working-class bodies?”
Actions like Friday’s, Cole said, “show how powerful it is to hold an eight-hour strike. It sends the message that unions don’t just fight for their members—they fight for causes.”