Pots and Pans Protest: The Montreal Student Strikes

We saw them dotting the streets as we drove into town; here and there, the red squares pinned to shirts, bags, occasionally hats, pots and pans in hand. Little handfuls of them, walking together.

We saw the police, too—passed a line of police cars as we parked our rental, my friends and I, and we watched where they were going with eyes made extra wary by nine months of Occupy Wall Street-related clashes and plenty of recent Montreal news items. We’d driven up that day after a spontaneous decision that we were too close, mentally, emotionally, and yes physically, to Montreal not to go.

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Violence, resistance and protest

I’m thinking about violence a lot lately.

It seems appropriate, now, to write about it, as we just saw actions around the U.S. to commemorate the anniversary of nonviolent activist Martin Luther King, Jr.’s death by a violent act.

As I arrived at work April 4, the anniversary of King’s murder, my boss read us the article in Haaretz about actor/director/activist Juliano Mer-Khamis‘s death in a refugee camp in Jenin. More violence taking the life of another nonviolent activist.

I’ve commented many times that I don’t consider breaking windows or property damage “violence.” I consider violence to be harm against a human, not a pane of glass. Yet when I retweeted that statement in reference to the March 26 protests in London, I was reminded by Jack Aponte, via Twitter, that smashing windows or walls can be used by domestic abusers to threaten their victims. And Molly Crabapple noted that it’s only a short step from smashing a shop’s windows in the name of “feminism” to smashing art. And we’ve seen more than enough art censorship lately.

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Riot music: Our writers’ favorite revolutionary music

This year, revolution is in the air.  It is on the streets of Tunis and Cairo, in Tripoli, Athens and Madison.  It is in hearts and minds, on the airwaves and TV channels, on the page, online and on protest signs.  And it is on car stereos, CD players, mobile phones and I-Pods.

With so much change going on in the world lately, I decided to ask some of our writers to provide a soundtrack to revolution, protest and social change.  From classic soul to riot grrl punk, each writer responded with a unique take on the idea of protest music.  I suggest you hunt these songs down, crank the volume up, and get moving.

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Holding Out for a Hero: Julian Assange and moving beyond heroes

Time magazine’s annual Person of the Year attracts far more attention than almost anything else the magazine publishes. This year it was Mark Zuckerberg, Facebook founder and subject of a well-reviewed biopic. The not-so-charismatic choice overruled readers’ 382,020 votes for WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange, who currently is relaxing on an estate in England, fighting extradition to Sweden on sexual assault charges—that is, if the U.S. government doesn’t manage to snag him first.

Julian Assange is also at the center of a debate among free speech advocates, progressives, and other WikiLeaks supporters. While almost no one thinks that the timing of Assange’s arrest was free from political motives, it seems that many have a hard time separating support for WikiLeaks’ mission from support for Assange, who is accused, just for the record, of rape, sexual molestation, and unlawful coercion by two separate women. It seems too difficult for some to understand that the man behind a site that does significant, important work might also have done horrible things to people in his personal life—and that the government might be taking advantage of that, without having to fabricate charges.

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Editor’s Diary: Missed Connections and Magic

Hey girl in the strobing light
What your mama never told ya
Love hurts when you do it right
You can cry when you get older – Robyn

Last weekend, an old friend of mine was in town.  I jokingly introduced him to people by saying “I broke his heart in high school,” but that’s not exactly true even in the metaphorical territory of broken hearts.

He walked me home from the subway after drinks with a crew of other friends old and new and we talked about all the times we’d really had our hearts broken in the intervening years and at one point I shrugged something off and he told me I sounded like I’d lost the idea of magic. Continue reading

Editor’s Diary: Whither Socialism?

Just a note before I start: this is the 1000th post on Global Comment! To celebrate, why not become a subscriber and help us keep bringing you thought-provoking content?

The real objective of Socialism is human brotherhood…Men use up their lives in heart-breaking political struggles, or get themselves killed in civil wars, or tortured in the secret prisons of the Gestapo, not in order to establish some central-heated, air-conditioned, strip-lighted Paradise, but because they want a world in which human beings love one another instead of swindling and murdering one another.

-George Orwell, “Can Socialists Be Happy?”  1943

I start with Orwell because people often forget that he remained a socialist even as he mounted critique after critique of the U.S.S.R. and other totalitarian-Communist states. Because the first argument one often faces in the U.S. when one suggests socialism as an alternative to the current political-economic structure is that Communism failed.  But reading Orwell’s essays from the 40s, from an England struggling against Nazism on one side and yet learning of the brutality of Stalinism, is to remember that it is possible to have an intellectually honest critique of the states that called themselves socialist and to still advocate for socialism. Continue reading

Editor’s Diary: Hate is still hate

Politics in the U.S. has reached a level of toxicity that those of us who worked the campaign trail during the 2008 elections couldn’t have imagined. Foolishly, perhaps, my friends and I on the Obama campaign thought that things would get better once he was in office.

Instead, the hatred has grown and swelled, enveloping people who didn’t succumb during the endless campaign season, and threats of violence seem to be everywhere.

Fed up with it last week, I lashed out on Twitter:

If half these a**holes inserted “Jews” where they rant about “Muslims,” do you think it would become clear how f***ed up this all is?

I mean really, we’ve never seen where scapegoating an entire religion or ethnicity can get us…

Someone replied “apples and oranges” to me and I almost had to laugh. Because it’s not, of course.

Later on in the week, I listened to Qasim ‘Q’ Basir discuss his new movie, Mooz-Lum, on GRITtv, and he said much the same thing as I had:

“Every time I see something that seems offensive or just totally wrong in general, I say what if they were saying this about black people, or Jewish people, or anyone else, would this be OK? Most of the time it’s like no! This is not OK! The idea that they’re questioning our president, asking if he’s Muslim, what if he were a Caucasian man who may have had African-American blood in his bloodline years, generations ago? Would it be OK for people to say ‘Is he part black?’ Would that be OK?”

Well, many commentators have noted that in fact, the constant Muslim-baiting of Obama is based in part on reminding white Americans with a much longer history of racial resentment directed toward black Americans than they have toward Islam that he’s black. So playing fill-in-the-blanks there isn’t as much of a stretch.

But in a country whose foreign policy is based around unconditional support for Israel, despite plenty of lingering antisemitism in all corners, it’s heresy to note the similarity between ginned-up anger at Muslims as the racial Other du jour and the ginned-up anger at Jews in times past.

Marty Peretz, publisher of The New Republic, caused even Nicholas Kristof at the New York Times to make the comparison to antisemitism when he wrote:

But, frankly, Muslim life is cheap, most notably to Muslims. And among those Muslims led by the Imam Rauf there is hardly one who has raised a fuss about the routine and random bloodshed that defines their brotherhood. So, yes, I wonder whether I need honor these people and pretend that they are worthy of the privileges of the First Amendment which I have in my gut the sense that they will abuse.

The public castigation from Kristof forced Peretz to backtrack, but the fact that a public figure like him–one long identified, for what it’s worth, with the Democratic party–felt comfortable writing this in public speaks volumes about how far our public discourse has fallen.

I’m Jewish. I had to explain to nice Jewish families on the campaign trail that no, Obama was not going to allow Iran to nuke Israel (and bit my tongue to keep from further explaining that while I’d like Obama to take a hard line on Israel and maybe stop selling them weapons, that was probably quite unlikely, actually). I could see the residual fear in the faces of people not unlike my grandparents, the mistrust of people who might hate them for simply being who they are.

In my time at Hebrew school and studying history, I learned about how anger and fear were created, in a time of economic crisis, in a country looking desperately for someone to blame. I learned what happened to those who took the blame.

I hate Nazi comparisons, and to suggest that this country is on the road to Fascism would be hyperbole. And yet, what if you take those lines of Marty Peretz’s–a man considered a liberal by many–and substitute the word Jew? What if you take Dinesh D’Souza‘s words–published in Forbes, not an anonymous email–about Obama and his father, and change two words, so it says “the U.S. is being ruled according to the dreams of a [Jew] of the 1950s”?

I know what it’s like to stumble across a slur directed at you. Just the words hit like a slap across the face that you have to stand there and take–you can’t fight back, it’s already out of range. And these words that are coming now from all angles, fast and furious, in anonymous emails or from the mouths and pens of well-paid writers and politicians, are increasingly hitting the headlines along with reports of vandalism and violence.

I believe in the first amendment as a bedrock principle of the U.S. government–free speech, freedom of religion, freedom to peaceably assemble. I believe that the best cure for bad speech isn’t censorship, it’s more speech. I don’t have a platform the size of Peretz or D’Souza. Few of us do. But we’re going to have to speak up, and loud, to counter all the hate flying around right now.

Editor’s Diary: What does labor mean?

I had a sort of vacation recently, a week or so out of the office in which I tried mightily not to do any work. I sat in coffee shops across Brooklyn, read books, scribbled notes, spilled my guts on a piece of paper or twelve and wondered why I was just struggling with vague anxiety the whole time.

Back at work this week, I felt my jangling nerves still, my muscles unlock, my body relax. See, work is more than what we do to pay the bills, sometimes. It’s what we do to make us feel human, too.

So it’s Labor Day here in the U.S. and I’m working anyway.  I’m writing. Because that’s what I do, and as I noted to a friend a few days ago, sometimes me trying not to work is just trying to force myself into someone else’s idea of happiness. Continue reading

Katrina 5 Years After: Loving New Orleans from afar

I’ve written so often that New Orleans is like a lost love I can’t bear to see again that it’s become a cliche, party of one. I haven’t been back since 2002, you see, and this year once again I couldn’t do it.

But that’s not really true. I visit my exes all the time (and not just because the Internet has made drive-bys a lot easier; you can do them on Facebook instead of having to have a car and be in the same town). I have to see for myself that they’re OK.If they aren’t, I just can’t handle it.

I had made tentative plans to go to New Orleans this year, though, and then the Deepwater Horizon well blew and oil saturated my beloved Gulf and I thought about a New Orleans with another haze of depression, tragedy, pain hovering over it, the threat of hurricane season not just possibly breaching levees that still, five years on, are not up to snuff, but pouring crude oil all over the city, coating still-devastated areas in toxic sludge far worse than the swampy cocktail that soaked into the city in August and September, 2005. Continue reading

Editor’s Diary: Being allowed to want

I always love when things I’ve written turn back up in my Internet “social circle”–mentioned in a blog I read, reblogged on Tumblr weeks or even months later, forwarded on Twitter by someone I didn’t know was reading.

Recently an excerpt from a blog post I’d written back in June of 2008 crossed my Tumblr dash again, reblogged by a friend, and it made me think.

“Sexual desire isn’t the only thing that women have been limited on. We’re expected to be restrained about food, about power, about love, about friendships, about everything. Even I worry constantly that I’ve crossed a line, that I’m bothering someone if I call too much or email too much, and I think that stems from the same place: feeling that I’ve made the fact that I want something too clear, too obvious.” Continue reading