Tag Archives: Occupy

Fascism-Light Has Come to America: Its Name is the Tea Party

Even if they don’t win this time around, the Tea Party’s defining influence in the 2012 election should concern everyone who does not want the U.S. decline to give rise to a new breed of 21st century, American-style fascism. I cam to this conclusion while watching Democracy Now!’s coverage of the Republican National Convention. Admittedly, Democracy Now! is very little pre-occupied with American journalism’s fetish for “objectivism”. From time to time their coverage comes across as paranoid and strident. In this case, I believe that they are right to be paranoid. Growing up here in the Bay Area, I have been witness to all manner of hand-wringing and chicken littling about the unchecked powers of the presidency, destruction of the environment, the rise of the military state, etc. etc., particularly during the Bush years. But George W. Bush, for all his destructiveness and extra-constitutional over-reaches, did not scare me the way that the Tea Party scares me. He infuriated and frustrated, and he forced me to marvel at the gullibility of those who supported him, who, as I believed, failed to see through his flimsy smokescreens. The worse alternative, of course, being that there were people out there who actually believed GW was right to reach for American global hegemony. Call this my political naivety. It is always better to assume the other side is ill informed, rather than malicious. It is less terrifying that way.

To my eyes, George W. always seemed something of an outlier, someone that we could probably handle when it came down to it. Even with his formidable machine of right wing political gamers, media cheerleaders and Christian zealots, he always seemed so alone up there, so paltry. His posturing, his transparently Freudian hang-ups, his almost comically sinister vice president. After his re-election in 2004, by my reading, it didn’t take long for the nation to experience something of a collective buyers’ remorse. Not that we regretted turning down the tepid John Kerry. More like we were embarrassed to have been taken by so obvious a straw man, wannabe strongman, duped by his manufactured threats, his in-retrospect almost childish war game rhetoric.

September 11th traumatized us, and the politicians in power took advantage. But even at our worst, I think we all knew that 9/11 was exceptional. Chances were, it wouldn’t happen again. There would be no war on American soil. The mere passage of days, suspiciously free of Muslim terrorism, proceeded to prove as much. The Bushites had gone out on a limb, and sure enough, with the Democrats’ 2006 and 2008 triumphs, the limb broke. As it turned out, we Americans weren’t so easily fooled. Our political system still had some life left in it, and we could elect, and at first overwhelmingly support, a man who seemed to represent everything that his predecessors weren’t. As if to show the world we had so blatantly disrespected that we weren’t all bad, after all.

Little did we know that the 21st Century was only just getting started. Indeed, seven years after 9/11 a trauma far more significant, and far more impactful fell swift and hard upon us. Upon all of us. And this time assigning blame wasn’t so easy. No WMDs, no terrorist training camps, no Axis of Evil. Rather, our entire way of life was put to trial. Something had gone wrong, or maybe it had been wrong all along. Maybe it had always been, and always would be a house of cards. The economy in free fall, basic comforts and assumptions once taken for granted now called into question, along with our very collective future. Our debt. Our children. Our homes. It was all going to be different now. Recession. Depression. The Great American Decline.

At first, we liberals liked to believe that the election of Obama had been our country’s answer to these new challenges. But this over-optimistic assumption was quick put to the lie. No, that had been too soon. Obama came about because of George W. Bush, not the economic collapse. But almost as soon as he stepped foot in office, a buyers’ remorse of a wholly different nature swept the country. Those who had once supported George Bush, and now felt over-chastened, felt it all slipping away. Our economy brought to its knees, our military chastened, And a fucking black man in the Oval Office? A black man with a middle name of Hussein? This while immigration continued unabated, and we whites’ majority status now on numbered days?

Well, not if we had anything to say about it.

With Paul Ryan as VP, Mitt Romney becomes a Tea Party candidate

And thus, the Tea Party was born. The fruits of the Great American Decline. Comparable in genesis, if not yet ferocity, to Weimar Germany’s National Socialists — the once Great Power Germans grappling with sudden collapse, vs. the still Great Power Americans faced with gradual decline. George W. was the political machine’s power grab. Now it was the “grassroots’” turn. White men, Christians, the “real” Americans as Sarah Palin so memorably put it. A nostalgic, virulently nativist, often expressly xenophobic, soon sponsored by bottomless pools of cash and corporate, political and private donor/allies. Encouraged and enabled by the same well-oiled machine that had directed George W. Bush, their intension from the very beginning was to seize control of the political system, and enact radical change in response to the sudden fears and altered realities of 21st Century America. It has been a little over two years since they first came onto the scene. Already they have ensconced themselves within a political system that had never intended to defend against such a movement in the first place. Now, with their first national convention, their mission has been codified and advertised for the nation and incorporated whole-heartedly into the political mainstream. Neither the old style “country club” Republicans like John Boehner, nor the neo-conservative Karl Rovians Republicans knew how to deal with them at first. Now, it seems that the Tea Party has been accepted. Jim Crow-reminiscent anti-immigration and voter suppression laws are passing everywhere, and the Citizens United decision has facilitated the total corruption, and near-absolute oligarchy of a system already groaning with such pressures. Ron Paul, whose delegates could have functioned as dissenting voices, were decisively excluded from the Convention. John McCain and Sarah Palin in 2008 are small fries compared to Paul Ryan and Marco Rubio.  Even if Mitt Romney proves too weak a candidate to best Obama this time around, in the long run, I fear that the piddling Democrats do not stand a chance.

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Searching for Occupy 2.0: Here’s to the Fights Worth Fighting

It is probably facetious to say outright that Occupy is dead. At the same time, there’s truth in the statement. Since May 1st, generally seen as a disappointment if not an overtly spectacular one, it seems indisputable here in Oakland that things have changed. The Oscar Grant Plaza Gazette, which served an important role as a running catalogue of Occupy Oakland actions and events and related writings since the first camp’s inception, has officially packed it in, stating that in manic effort at self-preservation, “Occupy Oakland as such is on a slow and sure downslide as we fail to become less insular and self-referential and remain largely irrelevant to local struggles.” Bay of Rage, which seems to function as something of an intellectual voice for the anarchists and black bloccers, published an article entitled “Occupy Oakland is dead. Long live the Oakland Commune” (pretty well demonstrating the eternal elusiveness of any definitive statements regarding this movement). A working group has formed in effort to plan a re-thinking of the General Assemblies, whose attendance has dwindled and all but flattened in the weeks following May Day. My own prediction had been that Occupy Oakland, whose popular support within the city by many accounts has all but evaporated, would become increasingly irrelevant, but activists who had already connected, and the many virtually autonomous working groups which formed beneath the OO umbrella, would branch out to find their own battles to wage. Meanwhile, the state, with their ruthless persecution of the (honestly quite cooperative) Gill Tract Occupy farmers serving as a perfect example, has proven that they have no intention at all of pulling back the pressure. Many Occupiers these days are beginning to look a little worn, a little dispirited, in stark contrast to the energy and enthusiasm of only a few months ago. Indeed, many could be forgiven for declaring the American Occupy Movement dead, or at the very least on terminal life support.

And yet, while in many senses they would be right, they also couldn’t be more wrong. Occupy 1.0 is dead. The camps are dead, and they’re not coming back. But the new word buzz word now, repeated over and over on list serve e-mails and the endless underground journalism articles shared through them, is Occupy 2.0. Occupy, phase 2. While the first incarnation of Occupy Oakland may be dead, its spirit is very much alive. And, after-all, what more was there to begin with? Of the several list serves to which I subscribe, Labor Solidarity, Occupy the Hood (now called ROOTS), Brooms Collective, Occupy Education, none have shown any discernible drop in activity. Even Occupy Oakland, which (forgive me) I now almost exclusively identify with endless police skirmishes, still shows signs of potency and danger. This is perhaps best evidenced by the immediate and truly inspiring reaction to the shamelessly extra-judicial arrest of Christopher, an active, well-known and well-loved OO member, who was charged with assaulting a police officer with a deadly weapon (which turned out to be no more than his own voice projected through a megaphone). Chris and others had attended a townhall meeting called for OPD officials to address the Alan Blueford shooting. It was a meeting which fast turned riotous, and the anger and shouting followed Chief Jordan and his entourage out of the hall when they left and into their cruisers. Chris was one of those leading the charge. Perhaps 30 minutes later Chris was followed and quite literally kidnapped by OPD Officers. This time they went too far. This was made evident that very evening, when the weekly Fuck the Police march drew numbers greater than it ever had before, and (somewhat uncharacteristically) remained peaceful. NLG Lawyers were out in force at Chris’ hearing the next day. And, sure enough, Chris’ bail was lowered and the charges drastically reduced. All of this within 24 hours of his arrest. Maybe it’s wishful thinking to detect a little fear in the immediacy of the city’s response. Had more peaceful protests continued, and Chris’ situation not remedied, the city at large might have learned a little more about the repression going on in downtown Oakland everyday, right under their noses, might have learned why those FTP marches have managed on for so long after all. It hasn’t happened in a vacuum, that’s for sure.

But FTP marches cannot define the movement. If they do, then, in my opinion, the state will have effectively won. Our message will have been subdued and many of the very people who should be joining us will instead bear the worst of a fight that isn’t theres. Right now, I think of the FTP marches, the vandalism and the police provocation, as last desperate attempts to cling to Occupy 1.0. So then, what is Occupy 2.0? Where do we find it? What will it look like?

To a large degree, it will look like what was already there. Just more so. Here I can only speak for Oakland. Oakland is what I know and I have never been to an Occupy elsewhere (except Berkeley, and I wouldn’t go back). Oakland has a long history of activism, and groups such as Just Cause, ACCE and Ella Baker have deep roots here. The “community organizer” title here is not an empty abstraction, and now, since Occupy, there are just a lot more them. With the camps disappeared, we have been forced to get away from our comfort zones. We have been forced out of our shell, to engage in the hard work of alliance building, to consider the issues that people face on the day to day, those problems that need fixing, that many have been working towards fixing for generations. Oftentimes we can provide numbers and energy to fights that are already being waged. Other times we can create self-functioning organizations ourselves.

Such is the case for Occupy Education, and possibly the newly formed Workers’ Assemblies. Occupy Education in California is a mammoth list serve of teachers and educators, some employed and some not, some members of the union, some temporary hires and Teach for America alums. Some of them are just parents, and some of them, like myself, are unaffiliated with any of them. I’ll be attending my first GA for this group on Saturday. I attended a Townhall meeting at Lakeview Elementary, one of five Oakland public schools slated to close in a few weeks (all of which attended by primarily poor, primarily minority students). Then I attended an Occupy Oakland Education meeting the next week. These are groups that are not bound by the typical union/non-union strictures, and they lack leadership. They are Occupy, but at the same time they are specialized. Education and school closures, specifically the closure of Lakeview Elementary, is one fight I’m particularly interested in, because in my opinion it represents a wrong that cuts across many issues, and typifies a place where labor, community and Occupy-style protest could coincide and reinforce one another. When the building re-opens in the fall, it will be an OUSD administrative building. What better target could there be?

There’s Occupy AC Transit, which today has one simple and attainable demand, arrived at through months of planning and dealings with drivers and riders: that is, to make bus transfers multi-use. As people grow poorer, they won’t be able to afford cars. And yet public transit has never been a viable option either, and since I started riding BART and bus to school about fifteen years ago, prices have almost doubled. Piecemeal, five cents here, ten cents there, year after year. Service hasn’t improved, if anything it’s worsened. Well, how about 40 of us taking over a bus and refusing to pay? How about drivers taking us to our stops anyway? Yeah, there’s an issue that people could get behind, that people are already behind.

So, is Occupy dead? Absolutely. Are we still Occupying? You bet. At this point, the damage has already been done. People have woken up, and they have realized that they are strong. Politicians everywhere would do well to take note. Even if our GA’s don’t draw numbers, and our movement has disappeared from the headlines, expect continuing civil unrest throughout the country as people realize their ability to stand up for their lives and their rights.

Long live the Oakland Commune!

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Impressions from May Day, Part 1: A Problematic Spring

I went to work on May Day. I believe that the vast majority of Occupy supporters did, at least those lucky enough to have work. I walked to the 19th St BART Station, and I didn’t see any shuttered businesses. During my lunch break in San Francisco, I went out to observe the protest just down the street on Market, and the crowd was exuberant and cheering and they were drawing friendly honks from the diverted motorists. It made me smile. But, unlike last November, this time there was no way that I would be willing to skip work. For one thing, my days at this job are numbered. It’s temp work, and I need the money. For another I just wasn’t sure that there were that many actions I was all that interested in joining. The build up to May Day, which I’d observed from a relative remove, myself having somewhat drawn away from Occupy over my last few months of full-time work, had seemed fraught with contention and worry. There was talk of a few scattered strikes, such as the shutdown of the Golden Gate Bridge, but that was dependent on the union’s participation (which ultimately fell through); perhaps another port blockade, but this perhaps would have seemed a bit redundant and mean-spirited. Some seemed to think that a reckoning of some kind was coming. Perhaps there were no good actions. Perhaps, things had changed.

But while a general strike of any real significance didn’t come to pass, neither did the reckoning, at least not in so dramatic a fashion. There were no spectacular arrests or instances of violence. Indeed, I was pleased and surprised, if not by the numbers of the specific protests, as by the level of support they still enjoyed. The Bay Area public is not yet completely exasperated with us. Even the vandalism and property destruction is still met with a degree of understanding. This is testament to the intelligence of the American people, which manifests in surprising ways just when it seems that all hope is lost and everybody else is just worth writing off.

After work I went home, ate some dinner, and decided to pass by the protest en-route to a Wifi café. I’m moving apartments soon, and I’ve felt the need to get out in the meantime, the walls a little too stir crazy and close. Internet cafés have been my best place for getting work done over the last few weeks, and I’ve come up with a nice and sizable little network of them (favorites being House Café on Grand, Urban Blends on Broadway, and the Barnes & Nobles Starbucks in Emeryville on Sundays, for the outdoor seating and people watching).

It was about 8:00 when I pulled my bike to a stop on 14th and Broadway. The crowd was diverse and fairly sizable. Speeches were still blasting away from the Dignity and Resistance March, an annual event that traditionally disembarks from Fruitvale BART and terminates at San Antonio Park, but this year made the longer trek downtown, perhaps in honor of the Occupy Movement. This was, from the accounts I’ve heard, the piéce de resistance of the Bay Area’s events, in the numbers it drew (up to 5,000), the manner of the demonstrators, and, of course, the inherent cultural strength of this action, having sprung from the activism of people like César Chavez and Oakland’s strong and proud Latino community, which has grown so spectacularly in recent years. My own impression is that many Latinos seem to sympathize with Occupy, and are pleasantly surprised to find more people responding to some kind of the same pain that people within their own community have experienced since ever hence. But this sympathy has limits, generally defined by the actions by protesters that will draw the police, and therefore precipitate risk of arrest. One well-respected speaker at an OO GA several weeks ago went so far as to say that the OO’s employment of the so-called “diversity of tactics” was becoming a race thing — that if Occupy couldn’t cut out their destructive behavior they risked further alienating minorities, who inevitably bear the brunt of police aggression. I’ve heard this sort of sentiment from other places that have reached out to us as well, such as activists out of Allen Temple Baptist Church in East Oakland, to which a group of Occupiers were invited one day to participate in organizing against the Goldman Sachs credit swap scam, and who, upon arrival, attempted to commandeer the event, and left their hosts with an impression of arrogance and pomposity. I’ve heard black people refer to us as “entitled.” How unfortunate that I even feel the need to write “black people,” as if our movement were distinct from this population, as, unfortunately, it seems largely to have become, with a good portion of Occupy Oakland still remaining the blessed exception. Perhaps tensions of this sort are unavoidable. Indeed, the genuineness of these controversies can’t help but inspire a little pride in my own lily white heart, which, pre-Occupy, had been all but convinced that my people and my generation were good for little else but iPod-buying and afternoon beer-drinking. Thank God some of us at least are willing to take stances, to take risks. Such are the qualities of a strong and healthy populace. Such is the essence of the true American way, which is at its best when at its most disobedient.

OPD shows of its new hardware

As it turns out, I never made it to the internet café. I locked my bike up in front of Walgreens, and then I ran into a friend I hadn’t seen in months and we decided to stick around to see what happens. It was only a few minutes later that the sound truck packed up and left, and the officially sanctioned dignity and resistance march ended. Soon after, the police began to mobilize on 14th East of Broadway. Protesters at the intersection would not be moved. Skirmishes broke out near the front. A man in a suit came down from one of the office buildings to heckle the crowd, and, sure enough, a crowd formed around him. Yelling ensued, and police approached, and after a tense few minutes, the man disappeared into their protection, followed by calls of “That guy’s the 1%! That guy’s the 1%” Some people had to be pulled back from following him further. The energy in the crowd was intense and passionate, and it wasn’t all white people. Far from it in fact, even as the dignity and resistance marchers left, though the crowd grew increasingly thick now with masked black bloccers, some bearing shields. I pulled my friend a little ways back from the front. I had the feeling that she’d never been in one of the bad protests before (Julie, if you read this, please feel free to correct me J), so didn’t quite understand how quickly these things can spin out of control. I for one had no interest in being arrested again, and I doubt that she did either. Mostly I think she came for the spectacle, perhaps a little late for the good stuff. Everyone should know by now that when the night falls, generally, everything goes, and that if you remain, you do so at your peril. I was not into peril on that day. When I heard them announce unlawful assembly, then I knew it was coming soon. And sure enough, not ten minutes later, the line of police charged us en masse, in effect arresting everyone who was not fast enough to get away from them, and, in one fast and screaming crowd, we ran. Julie and I ducked down 19th Street away from them. We stopped at a bar on Broadway, and watched out the glass windows as lines of police and white riot vans passed by over the next several hours, together with periodic sirens, and groups of shabbily clad, backpack-bearing kids, moving in groups intent on a mission of some kind or another. Luka’s was just as busy as it should be on a Tuesday night. Apparently, the fear of Occupy’s May 1st re-birth wasn’t enough to keep the revelers away. Or maybe they weren’t aware that Occupy had been planning anything in the first place. At this point, I’m not sure which is the preferable truth.

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