Category: gmoses

By Greg Moses

OpEdNews / UrukNet / SamHamod / CounterPunch / Bella Ciao

In homage to the Nobel Prize for Literature, Harold Pinter’s acceptance speech testifies to gifts of inspiration; hints of realms apart within; callings to craft that expose writers to tempestuous solitudes where lines between truth and unreality are not marked out in advance, where things press against each other in duality, both untrue and real at the same time.

That the writer who is driven into realms of edginess and duality can still keep a cold eye on profanity, horror, and outlandish hypocrisy is what Pinter then sets out to prove. His object lesson is the USA. By the time he is finished, we have a perfect ice sculpture of American immanence. One should take 46 minutes to see the words played out to their full and freezing effect.

One thing Pinter does not confess is that the writer sometimes presents a carefully chosen lie that begs to be decried. This prophetic lie is not to be confused with what Pinter calls the political lie that aims to keep truth well buried under phrases like “the American people”. The prophetic lie is what Pinter delivers when he states that “the most saleable commodity” being pushed by the juggernaut of the USA is “self love”.

We know that Pinter is not accepting the USA’s brand of ‘self love’ as self love itself, because for 46 minutes, Pinter practices a kind of self love that would freeze such salesmanship at the doorstep. And we know that any people comforted by the sound of their own name can have no real capacity for self love, because self love must have something to do with self knowledge, but knowledge is precisely what “the American people” do not seek at the sound of their own name.

So when Pinter hisses at the USA for selling ‘self love’ on the global market, he is really provoking us to argue that it’s not real ‘self-love’ that the USA is selling. The problem goes that deep.

On the 13th of December, twelve days before Christmas, the governor of California decides whether to stop the execution of Tookie Williams. Fantasy blurs into reality. The governor could never have been elected without first making himself real to the American people through fantasy projections of obligatory violence, heavily capitalized and mass produced. Fantasy gunslinger, property developer, the state’s executioner in chief. A kind of ‘self love’ is being sold in the governor’s tale. Is this not the kind of ‘self-love’ that Pinter accuses the USA of exporting?

But ask Tookie Williams (as Phil Gasper asked him) where do the problems of real-life gang violence begin and he will tell you the answer is ‘self-hate’. The ‘self-love’ so well commodified in Schwarzenegger (a minstrel name if ever there was one) is minted in a dual economy that also circulates ‘self-hate’. The same fantasy machine that lifts the Aryan upward churns whirlpools for others, tugging them down into gulags for life.

This is Pinter’s provocation: are “the American people” practicing real ‘self-love’? The kind of self love that Martin Luther King, Jr. once called ‘somebodiness’ and that serves as the first condition of empowerment? If it was ‘somebodiness’ we were practicing, wouldn’t we be a little busier about our own freedoms at home? Wouldn’t we care not to be the kind of people who send black ops around the world and then pretend not to see? Isn’t there a kind of self love that demands something from us long before we have to be needled into noticing that we have in fact given up our ‘self-love’ to a commodified political lie?

There is a kind of self-love that answers to the crisis we are in, and I’m sure Pinter knows it, but it is not the kind that he sees us selling, and so he spits the lie right back into our faces. Will we swallow it? If we are selling such a deeply counterfeit value to the world, are we capable of being ashamed about it? In a nation preparing for holy days of shopping, have we lost our capacity to be provoked by Pinter’s allegation of counterfeit love?

Somewhere it is written that we should do unto others as we would have them do unto us. Yet we have long holiday debates about torture and human rights. This is what happens when you turn your self-love into snake oil. Commodify the self-love that you plug into the golden rule, and you forge an ironclad alibi for worldwide scourge. Question is, America, do we have the shame needed to tell Pinter that we recognize his prophetic lie?

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Note: special thanks to CounterPunch for updating the above article following the unconscionable execution of Tookie Williams.

Note: I hold in my hands a book printed in 1822 by Philo Pacificus (Noah Worcester) containing his “Solemn Review of the Custom of War” and several issues of the “Friend of Peace” journal. The third number of the journal begins with a lengthy review of “The Horrors of Napoleon’s Campaign in Russia” in the which the following section is inserted, titled:

BRIEF REMARKS

In the Russian campaign we have a view of the effects of war on a large scale. It was not a war of “small states in close neighborhood,” which Lord Kames censured as “brutal and bloody;” but it was a “war for glory” between two large empires, remote from each other:–Such a war as his lordship styled “the school of every manly virtue,” in which “barbarity gives place to magnanimity, and soldiers are converted from brutes into heroes.”

Let Christians then reflect on the scenes which have been exhibited, and ask themselves, whether they wish their children to be educated in such a “school;” whether such a school is adapted to form disciples of Jesus Christ; and whether robbers and pirates were ever chargeable with more flagrant violations of the principles of reason, religion and humanity.

Let it not be said that war in Russia was of a peculiar character, that French soldiers are worse than the soldiers of other nations, or that Napoleon was the worst of all military men.

Wars are generally terrible proportional to the numbers actually engaged. The same spirit uniformly prevails in war. Similar scenes of havoc and horror, similar outrages and distresses, have been witnessed in other wars, but commonly on a similar scale. Every war, like that in Russia, is on one side or the other a war of aggression. Every war is carried on by violence, rapine and injustice. The innocent, the aged and infirm–females old and young, and innocent children, fall a prey to the savage vengeance of unprincipled officers and soldiers. In thousands of instances the soldiers of other nations have conducted as bad, according to their numbers, as the French did at Moscow. The people of invaded territories alway complain of the violence and rapacity of invaders; and never have they been without reason for complaint. The cry of “Goths and Vandals!” has been commonly raised, and commonly just.

It may indeed be true, that Napoleon has caused the death of several millions of his fellow beings; but this does not prove that he is worst of military men. He has been more successful than many others, but not more than others have wished to be. Ambition for military fame is insatiable and never says, “it is enough.” Any man who will sacrifice a single life to his own ambition, is brother to Cain, and to Napoleon; and any man who will excite war to advance his own fame or wealth, is brother to the highway robber.

It is proper that we should reflect on the righteous retributions of Providence in the Russian Campaign. After the French army had wantonly massacred the people of Moscow—filling the city with distress, murder and violation—and had loaded themselves with plunder, they were compelled to retreat. But the vengeance of God pursued them, overtook them, and overwhelmed them. Those who without mercy had distressed and destroyed others perished without mercy.—Distressed for food, they were compelled to eat their famished horses; and what is still more revolting, they fed on the flesh of their famished and dead brethren. The sword, the famine and the frost, sweeps them off by multitudes, till their terrific army was reduced to a twentieth part of its original number. Such was the terror, frenzy and despair, that they, murdered one another; and “thousands and thousands” plunged themselves headlong into the Beresina.

Now, what have the French nation gained by all their wars and conquest since their violation? Their wars have been a continual source of misery at home, as well as abroad; and in their turn they have been inundated, harassed and distressed by foreign troops. Such are the genuine fruits of the war spirit and a thirst for military fame.

The distress of the Russian empire was indeed terrible.—But that empire, like others, had been formed by war, and cemented by blood. In past ages the Russians were a ferocious and bloody people. Their invasion of Poland and their storming of Warsaw, were as unjust and cruel, as the conduct of the French towards them.—Similar complaints may be brought against all the allied powers.

The people of Great Britain have a tremendous account lying against them. The history for ages is filled with records of blood. They have indeed become a powerful nation; but they are in the hands of God, as clay is in the hands of the potter; and except they repent and abandon the custom of war, their sins will surely find them out. As by war their empire has been widely extended; so by war it will probably be diminished and overthrown—unless they shall awake to righteousness and adopt the path of peace. Above all other nations they now possess the means to give peace to the world. But if they shall refuse to employ their influence for this purpose, their long arrears of blood will probably involve them in ruin. Their pecuniary debt is indeed enormous, but it is nothing compared with their debt of blood. The former may be a means of binding them together for some years to come; the latter is a tremendous millstone about the neck of that nation, from which nothing but reformation and divine mercy can ever relieve them.

Note: at this point the narrative turns to “An Estimate of Human Sacrifice in the Russian Campaign”

By Greg Moses

OpEdNews / DissidentVoice

In a few minutes I want to speak about nonviolence. But on Veteran’s Day, allow me to speak first about the truth, goodness, and beauty of violence; because if violence could be none of these things, how would Hollywood bake its bread?

I have sometimes confessed to the joys of war games on computer, so now I admit to the thrill of action movies, whether lo-tech Westerns or hi-tech Terminators. In Westerns, violence of the false, bad, and ugly kind gets sprayed onto our faces early in the show, so that a more satisfying violence may follow.

Thousands of frames must be exposed to the construction of villains, proving them incorrigible and irredeemable in this world, the better to experience salvation in the moments their celluloid bodies are shot to the dirt. But in order for cinematic killings to achieve that cheering experience, nonviolent alternatives must be thoroughly discredited and the villain must always pull his gun first.

For the lone gunman who faces the villain, moreover, the issue must ever exceed the crucial matter of mere self-defense. In the killing by which he saves himself (sic) the hero also redeems the rule of law and preserves some innocent community from black clouds of dread. Whew. For the audience, perspiration gives way to relief in the last millisecond of a villain’s life, as the eyes of a human monster register mortality realized too late.

In the Terminator versions, the formula is only slightly adjusted. A beautiful and vulnerable woman, veritable vessel of truth herself, must be proved to have an array of enemies who, again, can neither be redeemed nor deterred. As the biceps of the hero bear the responsibility of mega-caliber arsenals, we wish only for the kills to come a little quicker than they do as Hollywood stretches out our pleasure time.

These are the archetypes that also inform our passions on Veterans Day. We speak of heroes who were dropped to death by incorrigible forces of evil during great confrontations between darkness and light. They died so that other heroes could prevail. So far as that archetype goes, it comes empowered with force irresistible. I make no pretense to immunity. Nonviolence does not require me to pretend.

And when it comes to the right of self-defense or defense of the innocent, the power of the hero proves that there can be no moral culpability in necessary violence of this sort. For oneself alone, one may renounce self-defense as a pure matter of conscience, but it is a rare pacifist who would argue that anyone is compelled to surrender one’s own life by some other kind of higher law. At any rate, such pacifism I could not believe. Self-defense is something like an inalienable right. While in the case of aggressive violence, you have a right to expect others to refrain, there is no similar moral obligation that you can place in the way of someone else’s right to a violence of self-defense. Nonviolence does not contradict this.

But if nonviolence can neither deflect the power of the hero nor refute the inalienable right to self-defense, what’s left? And here we begin to leave Hollywood and the purity of its archetypes behind. Because we can’t be caught forgetting that the cheering experience of a happy Hollywood killing rests upon a precisely scrubbed image, created from scratch in the interplay of light, lens, film, and artistic direction.

So the first problem we face as we hit the light of day with nonviolence is our addiction to the image of the incorrigible villain. If we are going to continue enjoying our participation in violence, we need him; but nonviolence denies the incorrigibility of the human spirit, period. So the dynamic of our process in nonviolent struggle is the reverse of Hollywood manufacture. Instead of refining a character down to an incorrigible core, the nonviolent activist looks for glitches of complexity and contradiction. In every which way possible we set out to multiply dimensions of character.

Maybe this is difficult sometimes, to pick out transformative shreds of possibility in a living human being. Everyone has their favorite example. I remember a civil rights activist telling me that extensive research into one president of the USA yielded a core personality of no commitment whatsoever. It was chilling to hear this as memory; it must have been terrifying to discover it in action. But even a power-monger has some sense of self-interest, which brings us to the second problem for nonviolence by comparison to Hollywood scripts.

When it comes to imagining nonviolent alternatives to terrible situations, illiteracy is what we share. Of the hundreds of nonviolent tactics actually used already in history (as documented by Gene Sharp) who can name more than five? Requirements for the time limits of your average Hollywood film would discourage getting very entangled at this stage of nonviolent activism. Negotiation, information gathering, organizing, education, and mobilization require Soap-Opera-like patience, not feature-film impact. So if we are used to seeing action films (and playing action games) we have grown quite used to feeling that alternatives to violence are neither very numerous nor effective in resolving actual conflicts of real life.

Yet Veterans Day reminds us of the price we pay for failing to do better in the nonviolence department. If heroism is an archetype of Veterans Day, so is abject loss of life; death come knocking; lives and loves interrupted forever. War on film may be a stage for heroic character, and on-screen killings might provide certain air-conditioned thrills, but war lived through is horror by the second, and the sight of an authentic human body etches the mind. Veterans Day therefore is a most logical time to decide that we can create better arts of peace.

A failure of American literacy contributes to the 2,000 sons and daughters whom we now add to the rolls of Veterans Day. As a people we never demanded serious attention to the corrigibility of our opponents. The image of the Muslim Terrorist fits our minds like a snap top. Where there is such a thing as a Muslim Terrorist, a suspected Muslim Terrorist, or a possible ally for a suspected Muslim Terrorist, our imaginations lock down into scrubbed stereotypes of villainhood. Yet if we do not learn to look for corrigibility, fallibility, and real human individuals, we will continue to set death traps for ourselves.

A powerful political strategist accuses peaceniks of preferring indictments and therapy in the aftermath of 9/11, and we certainly preferred arms inspections during the run-up to war on Iraq. In retrospect, we can claim that peaceniks were only exposing their literacy in matters of nonviolence. Who actually agreed or disagreed back then is no longer important. But it is crucial to never forget that we as American people never demanded a serious nonviolence debate. We could not weigh with any patience the costs or benefits of alternatives to outright war. Racism played a decisive role in this, as we usually stand willing to sweep with broad suspicion any image of threat from the pan-Muslim world.

Not that we have to learn to disengage ourselves from images of violence, but we must learn how to engage those images in more complex fields of understanding, where they are connected to histories of real people like us.

This is the meaning of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s insistence that human equality is an essential value for nonviolence. In the being and actions of others we must learn to see people equal to ourselves, and in the glaring inequalities of social practice we must learn to feel the outrages of injustice that will sooner or later erupt among peoples whose equality has been denied.

Afghanistan showed America clear examples of social inequality. The poverty and rubble of that country spoke with glaring images of international gaps. Yet the overwhelming sense of inequality between Afghanistan and the USA was massaged for us into an outrage at the inequalities between Afghan women and men. If the treatment of women in Afghanistan was an outrage (as it was) then how much of an outrage was the treatment of Afghanistan by the USA?

In the opening days of the so-called war on terror those who jumped on board were separated from those who jumped off, and the key to understanding the difference in those days of division was how people were reading the history of inequality between the USA and Afghanistan. Simply put, the pro-war faction attributed Afghanistan’s inequality to Afghanistan itself (supported by the shocking images of soccer field executions). Here were an incorrigible people, locked into their own tight circles of madness, there was no way to think of nonviolent alternatives, etc.

On the other side (one would like to say ‘of the debate’ but there was no debate) was a very different reading of the history of inequality in Afghanistan—a history of corrigible people who once lived under constitutional rule, but who were trounced into rubble by deliberate politics of belligerence that included yes the recruitment, care, and feeding of Osama bin Laden by the greater CIA network, and the nurturing of religious fundamentalism so crucial to lockstep social totalitarianism in Baghdad and Houston alike.

So from the start of the so-called war on terror (which has become a war for terror everywhere, with my deepest apologies to our soldiers for saying this) we have had the resources to deliberate this predicament nonviolently. But as the scandal over the Downing Street memo suggests, from the top of the start, it was war more than anything that was wanted, and our vaunted democracy could speak barely a peep about peace. We have to admit what this proves: we are not a very peace loving people; because love is best known during the testing times, and our love of peace collapsed right away when times got tough.

Based upon glaring inequalities that we witness between the USA and other states, nonviolent inquiry demands us to seriously investigate structural features that perpetuate these tawdry affairs. And very likely we have reason to believe that structures on the international scene are not that much different from the inequalities we find in our own cities at home.

Racism, poverty, and war were structures that King identified. They are structures because they are not disconnected from the very mechanisms of production and wealth as we know them. Racism toward the pan-Muslim world functions with the same purpose as racism toward peoples of the EastSide, or SouthSide, or whichever side your favorite city chooses to ghettoize the lowest-paid workers who provide the necessary conditions of wealth.

Briefly returning to the question of self-defense: in a conscious, militant confrontation with structure, the nonviolent activist gives up this precious and necessary right as a matter of personal conscience. One does not give it up absolutely. For example, yes, King collected signatures from fellow protesters pledging not to use violence (not even the violence of self-defense) during organized demonstrations. But at the same time, King insisted on responsible police protection from vigilante action.

King never said, let anybody do anything at any time, and that’s okay. While he set out to break the will of law enforcement to stand in the way of freedom, he campaigned for equal protection against discrimination and vigilante action. In this context, he gave up his right to self defense, and he encouraged others to join him in a brotherhood and sisterhood of conscience. This was his morality, and his shrewdness. We know how his life ended. But how much sooner would it have ended had he decided to pack a gun? Against the grimly structured powers of the USA, the chances of struggle do not necessarily increase if you announce that you are arming yourself or your movement for self defense.

At home and abroad, nonviolence must focus its struggles against structures of racism, poverty, and war; not against so many pawns in the game ( Dylan). From the nonviolent point of view, structures must remain in focus, because when structures come down, equality liberates love between corrigible people and we find ourselves more free to care about each other, rather than the structures that hold us apart. Wherever you find a world structured around racism, poverty, and war, there love has become unwise. On Veterans Day why shouldn’t we be encouraged to mutter, enough is enough. Why not give nonviolence another chance?

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Note: thanks to Matthew Daude and Kitty Henderson at the Ethics Resource Center of Austin Community College for the invitation to deliver remarks about pacifism on Nov. 11, 2005.

By Greg Moses

OpEdNews / AfterDowningStreet / Bella Ciao / BlackCommentator

Whip lashed by serial collisions of imperial power, dissident movements in the USA brace for the next shocking thing. We have been hijacked into a crashing invasion of Iraq, slammed around by evasive maneuvers in New Orleans, and now along the borderlands of the Southwest USA, signs warn that a highway of accommodation is about to end, dumping us head-on into deserts of aggression upon Latin American peoples.

Into each new crisis, empire roars forward, pumping high octane into its five-piston engine. Whether stirring borderland provocations at home, fighting wars of aggression abroad, or exploiting crises of colonized communities anywhere, the five pistons of empire always work the same.

The first two pistons of empire rub against each other in a dual cycle of excitement: racialization and criminalization. Whether we are talking about war on terror, containment of victims of Katrina, or preparations for aggression upon Latin American immigrants, empire is busy making peoples into races the better to criminalize them wholesale.

The third piston kicks into motion after peoples have been racialized and criminalized. This is the piston of militarization. Guns and propaganda. Brute technologies of power. In Iraq, this piston was stoked on a large scale with advance planning. In New Orleans, as if by reflex, it was improvised overnight. And in the future of the borderlands, militarization is being foreshadowed in word and deed.

The fourth piston is privatization. Political players who deploy military strategies profitize the game so that huge fortunes can be made quickly. In Iraq we see privatization with malice aforethought; in the aftermath of Katrina, privatization on the fly. Along the borderlands, keep an eye out. How much of the militarization will be subcontracted? How much cement will be cast into a great wall, by whom will it be poured, and for how much moolah?

Piston five is legitimization, the sweet arts that consolidate empire’s victory as ‘common good’ and ‘enduring freedom’ for all. This last piston is knocking around under the hood these days. In Iraq and New Orleans, there is a legitimization gap. That would be better news, if the gap in those places didn’t make the border wars seem all the more tempting as a red-blooded thrust to re-energize an imperial base.

So these are the five pistons. One right after the other, they fire up for every imperial advance. And they have been working this way at least since Western Pennsylvania was conquered by settlers and the Pennsylvania legislature taken out of Quaker control and put into the hands of a faction led by Benjamin Franklin. We’re not the first generation of peacemakers to be tossed around the back of the wagon by expansionists for self defense.

Quakers remind us that resistance to the five pistons of empire has been going on at least since the day William Penn named the town of Philadelphia. For Pennsylvania, Penn envisioned an enterprise of peace and reciprocity. Indigenous peoples would be respected, slavery outlawed, etc. A penitentiary would be a dwelling place for thinking things through. For about 75 years, the method worked astonishingly well.

Meanwhile, near Philadelphia grew the Germantown community, with its stream of mystics and cooperative entrepreneurs who came from the farms and universities of Europe into thick Eastern woodlands seeking unification with the One. In 1688, Germantown passed an anti-slavery resolution, said to be the first of its kind among the European immigrant communities of the so-called New World.

So when I travel through the heart of German Texas, near towns named Boerne, Fredericksburg, and New Braunfels, I am reminded that empire has never been a totalizing machine. Surely things could be worse and would be, had we not always in North America grown our own resistance, too. Against the five pistons there are — and for several centuries there have been — five modes of resistance.

Against the first two pistons of empire (racialization and criminalization) resistance poses counterforces of pluralization and legalization: establishing equity between peoples (not just between persons) and working against the tendency for law to be used a weapon of group domination. When George Fox toured America in 1661 (with William Penn) he sat down and slept beside indigenous peoples. To the offense of white Christians, Fox denounced attitudes of Christian spiritual superiority and practices of slavery, too.

In Iraq, the process of racialization and criminalization draws upon thick cultural roots old as the crusades. USA provisional authorities racialized and criminalized Sunni Muslims as a strategy to neutralize Saddamist resistance. Widespread enforcement of de-Baathification violated international laws against collective punishment and provoked deadly backlash, which empire loves to see, because backlash begets backlash, and guess who’s ready to privatize such a colossal mess? Recently, thanks to a film by Arkansas brothers Craig and Brent Renaud, we have watched a guardsman say: every civilian in the Middle East is a potential terrorist, the more killed the better. This well-fed attitude is sure to keep the privatizers in business just a little longer, with each passing month good for a few billion more.

In New Orleans, says grassroots organizer Malik Rahim, white activists with guns were allowed to pass into the city, while black doctors with medicine were not. Whereas guns were welcomed into a criminalizing situation, medicine could not be allowed to humanize. In New Orleans, a Common Ground Collective respects needs of all individuals and takes seriously the differing circumstances that people face. If cops can make allowances for each other when looting stores for ice and batteries, then activists can make allowances for petty theft among desperate victims, too. This is criminalization’s counterforce. Call it legalization of human beings and pluralism between peoples.

Along the borderlands between Latin American and El Norte, pluralism and legalization would mean respecting each other’s needs for free movement, suitable work, and fair pay, regardless of national origin. With militarization threatening the borderlands, it is urgent that we seek de-militarization certainly, but more than that, we have to try for something that has no single word. The opposite of militarization is not de-militarization; it is wholesale commitment to an economy of nonviolence, a prioritization of peaceful means to power among the people. If not pacification, shall we call it peace work? Such work builds the kind of human security that follows from experiences of pluralization and legalization.

Which brings us to the problem of privatization or the exploitation of a militarized situation for profit. The Common Ground Collective in New Orleans points directly toward struggle’s answer: collective, open, democratic organization of resources. I don’t think this precludes private property, but it certainly does debunk private profit as an end in itself. And this denunciation of private profit as the ultimate ruler of values is about as communist as Thomas Hobbes (who said you have to throw out the right to all things only if you want peace).

The final mode of resistance is education. After pluralization, legalization, pacification, and collective organization, education is badly needed to tend the crafts of knowledge and learning — to counteract legitimization.

If these modes of resistance have to be re-invented, then so be it. But we never find ourselves nowhere, especially not right now. I am only trying to think about resistance in hopeful ways as interlocking and multidimensional struggle, already and always on the ground with real life experience of the imperial pistons. De-militarizers are coming to the fore lately, and that’s good. But pluralizers are hard at work, and legalizers, too. Collective organizers are always findable. And educators are widely dispersed and active.

As we prepare to face the pistons of empire at the borderlands, we may look forward to a historical opportunity to unify American resistance from North to South. And that’s far from a nowhere place to begin.

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Note: Thanks to Tom Wells and the Speak Truth to Power Series at Schreiner University, Kerrville, TX for commissioning these remarks for a talk on Oct. 19, 2005.