Some thoughts on the NATO summit and the future of Occupy

The stories may have been compelling, but we were itching for more. Something less symbolic, something more disruptive to the dignitaries assembled for the NATO summit.

So as decorated veterans disavowed their war medals and eloquently outlined their opposition to militarism, the more militant factions of the just-completed, thousands-strong anti-war march amassed to the west of the stage. With cops suffusing the area, strategizing about our next step was essentially impossible.

But both sides knew the desired terminus: McCormick Place, just a few blocks east of the crowd and the site of the NATO summit.

Ever since protestors successfully shut down the WTO summit in 1999 in Seattle– the so-called “Battle in Seattle”– authorities have adeptly adapted. No more shut downs, they vowed. I doubt any of my fellow protesters thought we had a chance at breaking that ignominious streak.

We’d circumvented police barricades and played cat-and-mouse with cops all weekend. But this was different. The state/ police strategy, as far as I could tell, had been to exercise (relative) restraint on the streets– essentially cede control to protesters during unpermitted marches, don’t mass arrest or tear gas, limit the disgorging of blood– and repress behind the scenes. There had been a few brutal slip-ups, but forbearance had characterized the past few days, not a full-scale crackdown on peaceful protesters.

Now, though, we were in close proximity to McCormick Place, on the first day of the summit. As I peeped over the crowd after the speeches ended, I wasn’t surprised to see an inauspicious sight: rows of riot cops, backed up by mounted police. (Hundreds of cops were behind us as well.)

Confronted with this tableau, we still surged forward. Some would say it was quixotic. I’d say it was courageous. Either way, the result was predictable. Bloodied protesters, police brutality, claustrophobic chaos. Before long the police pushed us back, and we were at an impasse. More cops encircled us. The most obdurate stuck around (and were ultimately arrested), but the crowd began to thin out over the next hour or so, presumably resigned to the insuperable obstacle before us. And it hadn’t even taken tear gas or pepper spray, just some good old fashioned truncheon-wielding riot cops.

I left frustrated at our defeat, then grew incensed when I ventured out and was met with still more riot cops, bike cops, police vans, and helicopters. It’s not hyperbolic to say the summit had occasioned the establishment of a temporary police state. World leaders would assemble undisturbed, civil liberties be damned.

The question is, what was the upshot of all of this– not just protesters’ abortive attempts to shut down the conference, but the other permitted and unpermitted actions? And what, if anything, did it mean for the Occupy movement moving forward?

On some level, we failed. We didn’t shut down the conference. We were able to mobilize thousands in the streets and use a variety of tactics, though, including permitted and unpermitted marches, street theater, and nonviolent direct action. In doing so, we made manifest the latent “streams,”  to use scholar Ziad Munson‘s term, of a burgeoning social justice movement. In his excellent book The Making of Pro-Life Activists, Munson defines streams as collections of organizations and activists that share an understanding of the best means to achieve the goal of ending abortion. In other words, differences in beliefs about action constitute the different streams, and the streams, in turn, define the structure of the movement.”

This is a crucial concept moving forward. What I hope will blossom over the coming weeks, months, and years is a broader movement (“the 99 percent movement,” perhaps?) that contains multiple “streams,” of which Occupy is just one. Unlike the anti-abortion movement, in which activists are united behind an end goal and differ only in tactics and strategy, the left-wing movement I’m envisioning would be more variegated.

Occupy would inhabit the left flank of the movement, both tactically and ideologically. Unconstrained by institutional exigencies, nonviolent direct action would be its tactical calling card (even as it employed other tactics). Its ideological makeup would not be wholly anti-capitalist, but a preponderance of Occupy activists would at least question some of the core assumptions of the capitalist system. Established community groups and progressive unions would be to Occupy’s right, able to mobilize thousands for protests and engage in limited civil disobedience, but less willing to directly “throw a wrench in the gears.” They’d also be content calling, and agitating, for a “fair economy”; you wouldn’t find them castigating capitalism. The final stream would be electoral. These activists would attempt to move the Democratic Party to the left and get liberal policies passed, using the political process and conventional electoral means.

This is an ambitious vision I’ve sketched out, I’ll admit. Occupy would have to do a lot more waxing and lot less waning to make it a reality–even in its major epicenters. And mid-sized cities likely wouldn’t have the people power to populate the three streams. Regardless, it’s this type of symbiotic triumvirate, one in which activists could recognize and respect the limitations of organizations and individuals embedded within different streams, that I believe is the way forward.

The left flank is absolutely crucial to all of this. They make ideas and tactics once thought anathema more palatable, gradually shifting and reshaping the contours of political debate. In short, Occupy must be here to stay if justice is to be won.

Neoliberalism and power

Freddie takes a crack at defining neoliberalism (a rather easy endeavor, he avers):

“Neoliberalism is no more vague, complicated, or ill-defined than any other conventional political ideologies, which are by nature shaggy beasts… To put it simply, neoliberalism is the pursuit of traditionally liberal ends through traditionally conservative means, with the important corollary that when faced with a conflict between those liberal ends and those conservative means, neoliberals will always choose the means. In practice, this means that neoliberals prefer redistributive economic justice, but only insofar as it is achieved through ‘market’ mechanisms.”

I’m with political theorist Wendy Brown when she writes in “Neoliberalism and the End of Liberal Democracy” that “ours is a time of often bewildering political nomenclature.”

Is it simple enough to say that guys like Matt Yglesias and Ezra Klein are just avatars of the left variant of neoliberalism, distinguished by their affinity for redistribution but committed to the “the most successful ideology in world history” all the same? In the same essay, Brown argues: “Neoliberal rationality, while foregrounding the market, is not only or even primarily focused on the economy; it involves extending and disseminating market values to all institutions and social actions, even as the market itself remains a distinctive player.” Does this apply to the pity-charity liberals out there? Or is their neoliberalism less thoroughgoing, a repudiation of New Deal liberalism more than a totalizing ideology?

I honestly don’t know.

But this, from Klein himself, is telling:

“What [Romney] could have learned from that experience [at Bain] is that, just as creative destruction is important for moving an economy forward, a safety net is important for catching those who are left behind… There’s no inherent contradiction between appreciating change and being sensitive to its costs. In Northern Europe, countries like Switzerland, Denmark and the Netherlands have married dynamic economies to expansive social safety nets, and seen remarkable, durable growth as a result. The United States would do well to follow their example on both sides: We could be more open to disruptive change in the economy, and better at helping those who are left behind rebuild their careers.”

This is the policy agenda of left-neoliberalism, as expounded by one if its most prominent exponents. Accept the erosion of agency and democratic sovereignty, submit to market forces, then smooth out the rough patches “for those left behind.”

Freddie is right to questioning the feasibility of this agenda (it’s easier politically to deregulate than to meaningfully redistribute). But to me the most striking thing about left-neoliberalism—and the primary reason I think leftists aren’t just being schismatic or sanctimonious when they call its proponents out—is its lack of concern with power. Neoliberal wonks would do well to put down the latest Brookings white paper and read some Alinsky. Politics is a conflict over ideas and interests, but the actual outcomes of these battles is largely contingent upon underlying power differentials. Political and societal actors don’t operate on an even playing field or in a vacuum, and politics isn’t a subdued back and forth between people possessing equal power. The best ideas often don’t win out, and the poor almost always get the shaft.

Several months back I was sitting in a first-time offenders class, my punishment for Occupy-related crimes against humanity. Our instructor expected us to be contrite and, preferably, to reevaluate our lives, identifying and then rooting our destructive tendencies. The ensuing quasi-therapy session was predictably reductionist (structural constraints and the social contexts in which people operate, of course, went undiscussed). No excuse was a good excuse. To contextualize would have been to shift blame away from you, the malevolent perpetrator.

One comment that afternoon, though, was especially jarring: Our instructor claimed bosses were justified in intentionally scheduling workers at times that conflict with workers’ other jobs. This serves the purpose of weeding out the indolent and unreliable, she said. My protestations were quickly swept aside—in this weak economy, workers just have to suck it up. Our instructor was right in one respect. Mass unemployment has further disempowered a labor force long subjected to precarity. Absent full employment, worker power in capitalist economies is scarce. Browbeat and abuse your employees— if they quit they’ll have to compete with the rest of the unemployed, Marx’s industrial reserve army. (Aside from full employment, unionization also serves as a countervailing force that can combat worker docility.) The right response to this repugnant reality would have been to decry an economic system that has failed the many. Instead, our instructor valorized dehumanizing work and admonished the recalcitrant to accept subservience.

I recount this story not to dump on my instructor, a parole officer just trying to make some extra money on the side, but to illustrate how deeply market rationality has seeped into the populace. I think most left-neoliberals in America are more sympathetic to the plight of workers than my instructor. But the left has to be centrally concerned with empowering the marginalized. In relegating questions of worker power to the periphery, left-neoliberals are already arguing on the right’s terms. If we want to directly bolster the power of labor vis-a-vis capital, capital will stand to lose power. That’s not just a petty policy dispute, it’s an attack on the 1 percent.

If that sounds too class-warfare-y for left-neoliberals and the circles in which they operate, so be it. That’s power, and that’s politics.

The Safe Depository’s raison d’etre

The left has been on the defensive for decades.

Attempting to parry attacks on unions and the social welfare state has monopolized our time, settling for half-loafs and neoliberal-lite candidates has been our modus operandi. And still the country has slid to the right, the inequality gulf has expanded apace, and union density has plummeted. There’s been little time and energy to think big about fundamental questions. The confabs and conversations that did occur were accompanied by more than just a tincture of resignation. (It should also be noted that seismic shifts for the good, including the expansion of LGBTQ rights, have occurred over the same time span.)

Then Occupy happened. If its legislative effect has been hard to quantify—and its future remains uncertain—Occupy has immeasurably improved the mood and vibrancy of the left, vanquishing hopelessness, despondency, and torpor. Fresh ideas and lively debates are around again. One of the most invigorating developments in the age of Occupy has been the rise of what some have called The Next Left, a cadre of impressive young lefty writers;  Jacobin, The New Inquiry, and N+1 are the primary organs of this precocious cohort. The expanded conversation extends outside of these pages, however, and I’d like to use this blog to consciously insert myself into the conversation.

As such, “The Safe Depository” will focus on more intra-left discussions and conflicts I feel the front page is less amenable to exploring. The mission of The League, as I see it, is to have a running discussion with intelligent people of widely varying political persuasions. I still value that, so I’ll maintain my (sporadic) front-page presence. My intended audience, though, is those already firmly on the left, especially those interested in wrestling with questions of power and inequality and the future of Occupy and the democratic left.

I look forward to fruitful conversations and spirited disagreements. Thanks in advance for reading.