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A Diplomat Defects From the Kremlin over Ukraine

The Sources of Russian Misconduct

A Diplomat Defects From the Kremlin

By Boris Bondarev

Foreign Affairs

November/December 2022

For three years, my workdays began the same way. At 7:30 a.m., I woke up, checked the news, and drove to work at the Russian mission to the United Nations Office in Geneva. The routine was easy and predictable, two of the hallmarks of life as a Russian diplomat.

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February 24 was different. When I checked my phone, I saw startling and mortifying news: the Russian air force was bombing Ukraine. Kharkiv, Kyiv, and Odessa were under attack. Russian troops were surging out of Crimea and toward the southern city of Kherson. Russian missiles had reduced buildings to rubble and sent residents fleeing. I watched videos of the blasts, complete with air-raid sirens, and saw people run around in panic.

As someone born in the Soviet Union, I found the attack almost unimaginable, even though I had heard Western news reports that an invasion might be imminent. Ukrainians were supposed to be our close friends, and we had much in common, including a history of fighting Germany as part of the same country. I thought about the lyrics of a famous patriotic song from World War II, one that many residents of the former Soviet Union know well: “On June 22, exactly at 4:00 a.m., Kyiv was bombed, and we were told that the war had started.” Russian President Vladimir Putin described the invasion of Ukraine as a “special military operation” intended to “de-Nazify” Russia’s neighbor. But in Ukraine, it was Russia that had taken the Nazis’ place.

“That is the beginning of the end,” I told my wife. We decided I had to quit.

Resigning meant throwing away a twenty-year career as a Russian diplomat and, with it, many of my friendships. But the decision was a long time coming. When I joined the ministry in 2002, it was during a period of relative openness, when we diplomats could work cordially with our counterparts from other countries. Still, it was apparent from my earliest days that Russia’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs was deeply flawed. Even then, it discouraged critical thinking, and over the course of my tenure, it became increasingly belligerent. I stayed on anyway, managing the cognitive dissonance by hoping that I could use whatever power I had to moderate my country’s international behavior. But certain events can make a person accept things they didn’t dare to before.

The invasion of Ukraine made it impossible to deny just how brutal and repressive Russia had become. It was an unspeakable act of cruelty, designed to subjugate a neighbor and erase its ethnic identity. It gave Moscow an excuse to crush any domestic opposition. Now, the government is sending thousands upon thousands of drafted men to go kill Ukrainians. The war shows that Russia is no longer just dictatorial and aggressive; it has become a fascist state.

But for me, one of the invasion’s central lessons had to do with something I had witnessed over the preceding two decades: what happens when a government is slowly warped by its own propaganda. For years, Russian diplomats were made to confront Washington and defend the country’s meddling abroad with lies and non sequiturs. We were taught to embrace bombastic rhetoric and to uncritically parrot to other states what the Kremlin said to us. But eventually, the target audience for this propaganda was not just foreign countries; it was our own leadership. In cables and statements, we were made to tell the Kremlin that we had sold the world on Russian greatness and demolished the West’s arguments. We had to withhold any criticism about the president’s dangerous plans. This performance took place even at the ministry’s highest levels. My colleagues in the Kremlin repeatedly told me that Putin likes his foreign minister, Sergey Lavrov, because he is “comfortable” to work with, always saying yes to the president and telling him what he wants to hear. Small wonder, then, that Putin thought he would have no trouble defeating Kyiv.

The war shows that decisions made in echo chambers can backfire.

The war is a stark demonstration of how decisions made in echo chambers can backfire. Putin has failed in his bid to conquer Ukraine, an initiative that he might have understood would be impossible if his government had been designed to give honest assessments. For those of us who worked on military issues, it was plain that the Russian armed forces were not as mighty as the West feared—in part thanks to economic restrictions the West implemented after Russia’s 2014 seizure of Crimea that were more effective than policymakers seemed to realize.

The Kremlin’s invasion has strengthened NATO, an entity it was designed to humiliate, and resulted in sanctions strong enough to make Russia’s economy contract. But fascist regimes legitimize themselves more by exercising power than by delivering economic gains, and Putin is so aggressive and detached from reality that a recession is unlikely to stop him. To justify his rule, Putin wants the great victory he promised and believes he can obtain. If he agrees to a cease-fire, it will only be to give Russian troops a rest before continuing to fight. And if he wins in Ukraine, Putin will likely move to attack another post-Soviet state, such as Moldova, where Moscow already props up a breakaway region.

There is, then, only one way to stop Russia’s dictator, and that is to do what U.S. Secretary of Defense Lloyd Austin suggested in April: weaken the country “to the degree that it can’t do the kinds of things that it has done in invading Ukraine.” This may seem like a tall order. But Russia’s military has been substantially weakened, and the country has lost many of its best soldiers. With broad support from NATO, Ukraine is capable of eventually beating Russia in the east and south, just as it has done in the north.

If defeated, Putin will face a perilous situation at home. He will have to explain to the elite and the masses why he betrayed their expectations. He will have to tell the families of dead soldiers why they perished for nothing. And thanks to the mounting pressure from sanctions, he will have to do all of this at a time when Russians are even worse off than they are today. He could fail at this task, face widespread backlash, and be shunted aside. He could look for scapegoats and be overthrown by the advisers and deputies he threatens to purge. Either way, should Putin go, Russia will have a chance to truly rebuild—and finally abandon its delusions of grandeur.

PIPE DREAMS

I was born in 1980 to parents in the middle strata of the Soviet intelligentsia. My father was an economist at the foreign trade ministry, and my mother taught English at the Moscow State Institute of Foreign Relations. She was the daughter of a general who commanded a rifle division during World War II and was recognized as a “Hero of the Soviet Union.”

We lived in a large Moscow apartment assigned by the state to my grandfather after the war, and we had opportunities that most Soviet residents did not. My father was appointed to a position at a joint Soviet-Swiss venture, which allowed us to live in Switzerland in 1984 and 1985. For my parents, this time was transformative. They experienced what it was like to reside in a wealthy country, with amenities—grocery carts, quality dental care—that the Soviet Union lacked.

As an economist, my father was already aware of the Soviet Union’s structural problems. But living in western Europe led him and my mother to question the system more deeply, and they were excited when Mikhail Gorbachev launched perestroika in 1985. So, it seemed, were most Soviet residents. One didn’t have to live in western Europe to realize that the Soviet Union’s shops offered a narrow range of low-quality products, such as shoes that were painful to wear. Soviet residents knew the government was lying when it claimed to be leading “progressive mankind.”

Russia’s bureaucracy discourages independent thought.

Many Soviet citizens believed that the West would help their country as it transitioned to a market economy. But such hopes proved naive. The West did not provide Russia with the amount of aid that many of its residents—and some prominent U.S. economists—thought necessary to address the country’s tremendous economic challenges. Instead, the West encouraged the Kremlin as it quickly lifted price controls and rapidly privatized state resources. A small group of people grew extremely rich from this process by snapping up public assets. But for most Russians, the so-called shock therapy led to impoverishment. Hyperinflation hit, and average life expectancy went down. The country did experience a period of democratization, but much of the public equated the new freedoms with destitution. As a result, the West’s status in Russia seriously suffered.

It took another major hit after NATO’s 1999 campaign against Serbia. To Russia, the bombings looked less like an operation to protect the country’s Albanian minority than like aggression by a large power against a tiny victim. I vividly remember walking by the U.S. embassy in Moscow the day after a mob attacked it and noticing marks left by paint that had been splattered against its walls.

As the child of middle-class parents—my father left the civil service in 1991 and started a successful small business—I experienced this decade of turbulence mostly secondhand. My teenage years were stable, and my future seemed fairly predictable. I became a student at the same university where my mother taught and set my sights on working in international affairs as my father had. I benefited from studying at a time when Russian discourse was open. Our professors encouraged us to read a variety of sources, including some that were previously banned. We held debates in class. In the summer of 2000, I excitedly walked into the Ministry of Foreign Affairs for an internship, ready to embark on a career I hoped would teach me about the world.

My experience proved disheartening. Rather than working with skilled elites in stylish suits—the stereotype of diplomats in Soviet films—I was led by a collection of tired, middle-aged bosses who idly performed unglamorous tasks, such as drafting talking points for higher-level officials. Most of the time, they didn’t appear to be working at all. They sat around smoking, reading newspapers, and talking about their weekend plans. My internship mostly consisted of getting their newspapers and buying them snacks.

I decided to join the ministry anyway. I was eager to earn my own money, and I still hoped to learn more about other places by traveling far from Moscow. When I was hired in 2002 to be an assistant attaché at the Russian embassy in Cambodia, I was happy. I would have a chance to use my Khmer language skills and studies of Southeast Asia.

Since Cambodia is on the periphery of Russia’s interests, I had little work to do. But living abroad was an upgrade over living in Moscow. Diplomats stationed outside Russia made much more money than those placed domestically. The embassy’s second-in-command, Viacheslav Loukianov, appreciated open discussion and encouraged me to defend my opinions. And our attitude to the West was fairly congenial. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs always had an anti-American bent—one inherited from its Soviet predecessor—but the bias was not overpowering. My colleagues and I did not think much about NATO, and when we did, we usually viewed the organization as a partner. One evening, I went out for beers with a fellow embassy employee at an underground bar. There, we ran into an American official who invited us to drink with him. Today, such an encounter would be fraught with tension, but at the time, it was an opportunity for friendship.

Yet even then, it was clear that the Russian government had a culture that discouraged independent thought—despite Loukianov’s impulses to the contrary. One day, I was called to meet with the embassy’s number three official, a quiet, middle-aged diplomat who had joined the foreign ministry during the Soviet era. He handed me text from a cable from Moscow, which I was told to incorporate into a document we would deliver to Cambodian authorities. Noticing several typos, I told him that I would correct them. “Don’t do that!” he shot back. “We got the text straight from Moscow. They know better. Even if there are errors, it’s not up to us to correct the center.” It was emblematic of what would become a growing trend in the ministry: unquestioned deference to leaders.

YES MEN

In Russia, the first decade of the twenty-first century was initially hopeful. The country’s average income level was increasing, as were its living standards. Putin, who assumed the presidency at the start of the millennium, promised an end to the chaos of the 1990s.

And yet plenty of Russians grew tired of Putin during the aughts. Most intellectuals regarded his strongman image as an unwelcome artifact of the past, and there were many cases of corruption among senior government officials. Putin responded to investigations into his administration by cracking down on free speech. By the end of his first term in office, he had effectively taken control of all three of Russia’s main television networks.

Within the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, however, Putin’s early moves raised few alarms. He appointed Lavrov to be foreign minister in 2004, a decision that we applauded. Lavrov was known to be highly intelligent and have deep diplomatic experience, with a track record of forging lasting relationships with foreign officials. Both Putin and Lavrov were becoming increasingly confrontational toward NATO, but the behavioral changes were subtle. Many diplomats didn’t notice, including me.

Even limited displays of opposition make Moscow nervous.

In retrospect, however, it’s clear that Moscow was laying the groundwork for Putin’s imperial project—especially in Ukraine. The Kremlin developed an obsession with the country after its Orange Revolution of 2004–5, when hundreds of thousands of protesters prevented Russia’s preferred candidate from becoming president after what was widely considered to be a rigged election. This obsession was reflected in the major Russian political shows, which started dedicating their primetime coverage to Ukraine, droning on about the country’s supposedly Russophobic authorities. For the next 16 years, right up to the invasion, Russians heard newscasters describe Ukraine as an evil country, controlled by the United States, that oppressed its Russian-speaking population. (Putin is seemingly incapable of believing that countries can genuinely cooperate, and he believes that most of Washington’s closest partners are really just its puppets—including other members of NATO.)

Putin, meanwhile, continued working to consolidate power at home. The country’s constitution limited presidents to two consecutive terms, but in 2008, Putin crafted a scheme to preserve his control: he would support his ally Dmitry Medvedev’s presidential candidacy if Medvedev promised to make Putin prime minister. Both men followed through, and for the first few weeks of Medvedev’s presidency, those of us at the foreign ministry were uncertain which of the two men we should address our reports to. As president, Medvedev was constitutionally charged with directing foreign policy, but everybody understood that Putin was the power behind the throne.

We eventually reported to Medvedev. The decision was one of several developments that made me think that Russia’s new president might be more than a mere caretaker. Medvedev established warm ties with U.S. President Barack Obama, met with American business leaders, and cooperated with the West even when it seemed to contradict Russian interests. When rebels tried to topple the regime of Muammar al-Qaddafi in Libya, for example, the Russian military and foreign ministry opposed NATO efforts to establish a no-fly zone over the country. Qaddafi historically had good relations with Moscow, and our country had investments in Libya’s oil sector, so our ministry didn’t want to help the rebels win. Yet when France, Lebanon, and the United Kingdom—backed by the United States—brought a motion before the UN Security Council that would have authorized a no-fly zone, Medvedev had us abstain rather than veto it. (There is evidence that Putin may have disagreed with this decision.)

But in 2011, Putin announced plans to run for president again. Medvedev—reluctantly, it appeared—stepped aside and accepted the position of prime minister. Liberals were outraged, and many called for boycotts or argued that Russians should deliberately spoil their ballots. These protesters made up only a small part of Russia’s population, so their dissent didn’t seriously threaten Putin’s plans. But even the limited display of opposition seemed to make Moscow nervous. Putin thus worked to bolster turnout in the 2011 parliamentary elections to make the results of the contest seem legitimate—one of his earlier efforts to narrow the political space separating the people from his rule. This effort extended to the foreign ministry. The Kremlin gave my embassy, and all the others, the task of getting overseas Russians to vote.

I worked at the time in Mongolia. When the election came, I voted for a non-Putin party, worrying that if I didn’t vote at all, my ballot would be cast on my behalf for Putin’s United Russia. But my wife, who worked at the embassy as chief office manager, boycotted. She was one of just three embassy employees who did not participate.

A few days later, embassy leaders looked through the list of staff who cast ballots in the elections. On being named, the other two nonvoters said they were not aware that they needed to participate and promised to do so in the upcoming presidential elections. My wife, however, said that she did not want to vote, noting that it was her constitutional right not to participate. In response, the embassy’s second-in-command organized a campaign against her. He shouted at her, accused her of breaking discipline, and said that she would be labeled “politically unreliable.” He described her as an “accomplice” of Alexei Navalny, a prominent opposition leader. After my wife didn’t vote in the presidential contest either, the ambassador didn’t talk to her for a week. His deputy didn’t speak to her for over a month.

BREAKING BAD

My next position was in the ministry’s Department for Nonproliferation and Arms Control. In addition to issues related to weapons of mass destruction, I was assigned to focus on export controls—regulations governing the international transfer of goods and technology that can be used for defense and civilian purposes. It was a job that would give me a clear view of Russia’s military, just as it became newly relevant.

In March 2014, Russia annexed Crimea and began fueling an insurgency in the Donbas. When news of the annexation was announced, I was at the International Export Control Conference in Dubai. During a lunch break, I was approached by colleagues from post-Soviet republics, all of whom wanted to know what was happening. I told them the truth: “Guys, I know as much as you do.” It was not the last time that Moscow made major foreign policy decisions while leaving its diplomats in the dark.

Among my colleagues, reactions to the annexation of Crimea ranged from mixed to positive. Ukraine was drifting Westward, but the province was one of the few places where Putin’s mangled view of history had some basis: the Crimean Peninsula, transferred within the Soviet Union from Russia to Ukraine in 1954, was culturally closer to Moscow than to Kyiv. (Over 75 percent of its population speaks Russian as their first language.) The swift and bloodless takeover elicited little protest among us and was extremely popular at home. Lavrov used it as an opportunity to grandstand, giving a speech blaming “radical nationalists” in Ukraine for Russia’s behavior. I and many colleagues thought that it would have been more strategic for Putin to turn Crimea into an independent state, an action we could have tried to sell as less aggressive. Subtlety, however, is not in Putin’s toolbox. An independent Crimea would not have given him the glory of gathering “traditional” Russian lands.

Creating a separatist movement in and occupying the Donbas, in eastern Ukraine, was more of a head-scratcher. The moves, which largely took place in the first third of 2014, didn’t generate the same outpouring of support in Russia as did annexing Crimea, and they invited another wave of international opprobrium. Many ministry employees were uneasy about Russia’s operation, but no one dared convey this discomfort to the Kremlin. My colleagues and I decided that Putin had seized the Donbas to keep Ukraine distracted, to prevent the country from creating a serious military threat to Russia, and to stop it from cooperating with NATO. Yet few diplomats, if any, told Putin that by fueling the separatists, he had in fact pushed Kyiv closer to his nemesis.

The West’s 2014 sanctions substantially weakened the Russian military.

My diplomatic work with Western delegations continued after the Crimean annexation and the Donbas operation. At times, it felt unchanged. I still had positive relations with my colleagues from the United States and Europe as we worked productively on arms control issues. Russia was hit with sanctions, but they had a limited impact on Russia’s economy. “Sanctions are a sign of irritation,” Lavrov said in a 2014 interview. “They are not the instrument of serious policies.”

But as an export official, I could see that the West’s economic restrictions had serious repercussions for the country. The Russian military industry was heavily dependent on Western-made components and products. It used U.S. and European tools to service drone engines and motors. It relied on Western producers to build gear for radiation-proof electronics, which are critical for the satellites Russian officials use to gather intelligence, communicate, and carry out precision strikes. Russian manufacturers worked with French companies to get the sensors needed for our airplanes. Even some of the cloth used in light aircraft, such as weather balloons, was made by Western businesses. The sanctions suddenly cut off our access to these products and left our military weaker than the West understood. But although it was clear to my team how these losses undermined Russia’s strength, the foreign ministry’s propaganda helped keep the Kremlin from finding out. The consequences of this ignorance are now on full display in Ukraine: the sanctions are one reason Russia has had so much trouble with its invasion.

The diminishing military capacity did not prevent the foreign ministry from becoming increasingly belligerent. At summits or in meetings with other states, Russian diplomats spent more and more time attacking the United States and its allies. My export team held many bilateral meetings with, for instance, Japan, focused on how our countries could cooperate, and almost every one of them served as an opportunity to say to Japan, “Don’t forget who nuked you.”

I attempted some damage control. When my bosses drafted belligerent remarks or reports, I tried persuading them to soften the tone, and I warned against warlike language and constantly appealing to our victory over the Nazis. But the tenor of our statements—internal and external—grew more antagonistic as our bosses edited in aggression. Soviet-style propaganda had fully returned to Russian diplomacy.

HIGH ON ITS OWN SUPPLY

On March 4, 2018, former Russian double agent Sergei Skripal and his daughter Yulia were poisoned, almost fatally, at their home in the United Kingdom. It took just ten days for British investigators to identify Russia as the culprit. Initially, I didn’t believe the finding. Skripal, a former Russian spy, had been convicted for divulging state secrets to the British government and sent to prison for several years before being freed in a spy swap. It was difficult for me to understand why he could still be of interest to us. If Moscow had wanted him dead, it could have had him killed while he was still in Russia.

My disbelief came in handy. My department was responsible for issues related to chemical weapons, so we spent a good deal of time arguing that Russia was not responsible for the poisoning—something I could do with conviction. Yet the more the foreign ministry denied responsibility, the less convinced I became. The poisoning, we claimed, was carried out not by Russia but by supposedly Russophobic British authorities bent on spoiling our sterling international reputation. The United Kingdom, of course, had absolutely no reason to want Skripal dead, so Moscow’s claims seemed less like real arguments than a shoddy attempt to divert attention away from Russia and onto the West—a common aim of Kremlin propaganda. Eventually, I had to accept the truth: the poisonings were a crime perpetrated by Russian authorities.

Many Russians still deny that Moscow was responsible. I know it can be hard to process that your country is run by criminals who will kill for revenge. But Russia’s lies were not persuasive to other countries, which decisively voted down a Russian resolution before the Organization for the Prohibition of Chemical Weapons meant to derail the prominent intergovernmental organization’s investigation into the attack. Only Algeria, Azerbaijan, China, Iran, and Sudan took Moscow’s side. Sure enough, the investigation concluded that the Skripals had been poisoned by Novichok: a Russian-made nerve agent.

Moscow wanted to be told what it hoped to be true—not what was actually happening.

Russia’s delegates could have honestly conveyed this loss to their superiors. Instead, they effectively did the opposite. Back in Moscow, I read long cables from Russia’s OPCW delegation about how they had defeated the numerous “anti-Russian,” “nonsensical,” and “groundless” moves made by Western states. The fact that Russia’s resolution had been defeated was often reduced to a sentence.

At first, I simply rolled my eyes at these reports. But soon, I noticed that they were taken seriously at the ministry’s highest levels. Diplomats who wrote such fiction received applause from their bosses and saw their career fortunes rise. Moscow wanted to be told what it hoped to be true—not what was actually happening. Ambassadors everywhere got the message, and they competed to send the most over-the-top cables.

The propaganda grew even more outlandish after Navalny was poisoned with Novichok in August 2020. The cables left me astonished. One referred to Western diplomats as “hunted beasts of prey.” Another waxed on about “the gravity and incontestability of our arguments.” A third spoke about how Russian diplomats had “easily nipped in the bud” Westerners’ “pitiful attempts to raise their voices.”

Such behavior was both unprofessional and dangerous. A healthy foreign ministry is designed to provide leaders with an unvarnished view of the world so they can make informed decisions. Yet although Russian diplomats would include inconvenient facts in their reports, lest their supervisors discover an omission, they would bury these nuggets of truth in mountains of propaganda. A 2021 cable might have had a line explaining, for instance, that the Ukrainian military was stronger than it was in 2014. But that admission would have come only after a lengthy paean to the mighty Russian armed forces.

The disconnect from reality became even more extreme in January 2022, when U.S. and Russian diplomats met at the U.S. mission in Geneva to discuss a Moscow-proposed treaty to rework NATO. The foreign ministry was increasingly focused on the supposed dangers of the Western security bloc, and Russian troops were massing on the Ukrainian border. I served as a liaison officer for the meeting—on call to provide assistance if our delegation needed anything from Russia’s local mission—and received a copy of our proposal. It was bewildering, filled with provisions that would clearly be unacceptable to the West, such as a demand that NATO withdraw all troops and weapons from states that joined after 1997, which would include Bulgaria, the Czech Republic, Poland, and the Baltic states. I assumed its author was either laying the groundwork for war or had no idea how the United States or Europe worked—or both. I chatted with our delegates during coffee breaks, and they seemed perplexed as well. I asked my supervisor about it, and he, too, was bewildered. No one could understand how we would go to the United States with a document that demanded, among other things, that NATO permanently close its door to new members. Eventually, we learned the document’s origin: it came straight from the Kremlin. It was therefore not to be questioned.

I kept hoping that my colleagues would privately express concern, rather than just confusion, about what we were doing. But many told me that they were perfectly content to embrace the Kremlin’s lies. For some, this was a way to evade responsibility for Russia’s actions; they could explain their behavior by telling themselves and others that they were merely following orders. That I understood. What was more troubling was that many took pride in our increasingly bellicose behavior. Several times, when I cautioned colleagues that their actions were too abrasive to help Russia, they gestured at our nuclear force. “We are a great power,” one person said to me. Other countries, he continued, “must do what we say.”

CRAZY TRAIN

Even after the January summit, I didn’t believe that Putin would launch a full-fledged war. Ukraine in 2022 was plainly more united and pro-Western than it had been in 2014. Nobody would greet Russians with flowers. The West’s highly combative statements about a potential Russian invasion made clear that the United States and Europe would react strongly. My time working in arms and exports had taught me that the Russian military did not have the capability to overrun its biggest European neighbor and that, aside from Belarus, no outside state would offer us meaningful support. Putin, I figured, must have known this, too—despite all the yes men who shielded him from the truth.

The invasion made my decision to leave ethically straightforward. But the logistics were still hard. My wife was visiting me in Geneva when the war broke out—she had recently quit her job at a Moscow-based industrial association—but resigning publicly meant that neither she nor I would be safe in Russia. We therefore agreed that she would travel back to Moscow to get our kitten before I handed in my papers. It proved to be a complex, three-month process. The cat, a young stray, needed to be neutered and vaccinated before we could take him to Switzerland, and the European Union quickly banned Russian planes. To get from Moscow back to Geneva, my wife had to take three flights, two cab rides, and cross the Lithuanian border twice—both times on foot.

In the meantime, I watched as my colleagues surrendered to Putin’s aims. In the early days of the war, most were beaming with pride. “At last!” one exclaimed. “Now we will show the Americans! Now they know who the boss is.” In a few weeks, when it became clear that the blitzkrieg against Kyiv had failed, the rhetoric grew gloomier but no less belligerent. One official, a respected expert on ballistic missiles, told me that Russia needed to “send a nuclear warhead to a suburb of Washington.” He added, “Americans will shit their pants and rush to beg us for peace.” He appeared to be partially joking. But Russians tend to think that Americans are too pampered to risk their lives for anything, so when I pointed out that a nuclear attack would invite catastrophic retaliation, he scoffed: “No it wouldn’t.”

The only thing that can stop Putin is a comprehensive rout.

Perhaps a few dozen diplomats quietly left the ministry. (So far, I am the only one who has publicly broken with Moscow.) But most of the colleagues whom I regarded as sensible and smart stuck around. “What can we do?” one asked. “We are small people.” He gave up on reasoning for himself. “Those in Moscow know better,” he said. Others acknowledged the insanity of the situation in private conversations. But it wasn’t reflected in their work. They continued to spew lies about Ukrainian aggression. I saw daily reports that mentioned Ukraine’s nonexistent biological weapons. I walked around our building—effectively a long corridor with private offices for each diplomat—and noticed that even some of my smart colleagues had Russian propaganda playing on their televisions all day. It was as if they were trying to indoctrinate themselves.

The nature of all our jobs inevitably changed. For one thing, relations with Western diplomats collapsed. We stopped discussing almost everything with them; some of my colleagues from Europe even stopped saying hello when we crossed paths at the United Nations’ Geneva campus. Instead, we focused on our contacts with China, who expressed their “understanding” about Russia’s security concerns but were careful not to comment on the war. We also spent more time working with the other members of the Collective Security Treaty Organization—Armenia, Belarus, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan—a fractured bloc of states that my bosses loved to trot out as Russia’s own NATO. After the invasion, my team held rounds and rounds of consultations with these countries that were focused on biological and nuclear weapons, but we didn’t speak about the war. When I talked with a Central Asian diplomat about supposed biological weapons laboratories in Ukraine, he dismissed the notion as ridiculous. I agreed.

A few weeks later, I handed in my resignation. At last, I was no longer complicit in a system that believed it had a divine right to subjugate its neighbor.

SHOCK AND AWE

Over the course of the war, Western leaders have become acutely aware of Russia’s military’s failings. But they do not seem to grasp that Russian foreign policy is equally broken. Multiple European officials have spoken about the need for a negotiated settlement to the war in Ukraine, and if their countries grow tired of bearing the energy and economic costs associated with supporting Kyiv, they could press Ukraine to make a deal. The West may be especially tempted to push Kyiv to sue for peace if Putin aggressively threatens to use nuclear weapons.

But as long as Putin is in power, Ukraine will have no one in Moscow with whom to genuinely negotiate. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs will not be a reliable interlocutor, nor will any other Russian government apparatus. They are all extensions of Putin and his imperial agenda. Any cease-fire will just give Russia a chance to rearm before attacking again.

There’s only one thing that can really stop Putin, and that is a comprehensive rout. The Kremlin can lie to Russians all it wants, and it can order its diplomats to lie to everyone else. But Ukrainian soldiers pay no attention to Russian state television. And it became apparent that Russia’s defeats cannot always be shielded from the Russian public when, in the course of a few days in September, Ukrainians managed to retake almost all of Kharkiv Province. In response, Russian TV panelists bemoaned the losses. Online, hawkish Russian commentators directly criticized the president. “You’re throwing a billion-ruble party,” one wrote in a widely circulated online post, mocking Putin for presiding over the opening of a Ferris wheel as Russian forces retreated. “What is wrong with you?”

Putin responded to the loss—and to his critics—by drafting enormous numbers of people into the military. (Moscow says it is conscripting 300,000 men, yet the actual figure may be higher.) But in the long run, conscription won’t solve his problems. The Russian armed forces suffer from low morale and shoddy equipment, problems that mobilization cannot fix. With large-scale Western support, the Ukrainian military can inflict more serious defeats on Russian troops, forcing them to retreat from other territories. It’s possible that Ukraine could eventually best Russia’s soldiers in the parts of the Donbas where both sides have been fighting since 2014.

Should that happen, Putin would find himself in a corner. He could respond to defeat with a nuclear attack. But Russia’s president likes his luxurious life and should recognize that using nuclear weapons could start a war that would kill even him. (If he doesn’t know this, his subordinates would, one hopes, avoid following such a suicidal command.) Putin could order a full-on general mobilization—conscripting almost all of Russia’s young men—but that is unlikely to offer more than a temporary respite, and the more Russian deaths from the fighting, the more domestic discontent he will face. Putin may eventually withdraw and have Russian propagandists fault those around him for the embarrassing defeat, as some did after the losses in Kharkiv. But that could push Putin to purge his associates, making it dangerous for his closest allies to keep supporting him. The result might be Moscow’s first palace coup since Nikita Khrushchev was toppled in 1964.

If Putin is kicked out office, Russia’s future will be deeply uncertain. It’s entirely possible that his successor will try to carry on the war, especially given that Putin’s main advisers hail from the security services. But no one in Russia commands his stature, so the country would likely enter a period of political turbulence. It could even descend into chaos.

Outside analysts might enjoy watching Russia undergo a major domestic crisis. But they should think twice about rooting for the country’s implosion—and not only because it would leave Russia’s massive nuclear arsenal in uncertain hands. Most Russians are in a tricky mental space, brought about by poverty and huge doses of propaganda that sow hatred, fear, and a simultaneous sense of superiority and helplessness. If the country breaks apart or experiences an economic and political cataclysm, it would push them over the edge. Russians might unify behind an even more belligerent leader than Putin, provoking a civil war, more outside aggression, or both.

If Ukraine wins and Putin falls, the best thing the West can do isn’t to inflict humiliation. Instead, it’s the opposite: provide support. This might seem counterintuitive or distasteful, and any aid would have to be heavily conditioned on political reform. But Russia will need financial help after losing, and by offering substantial funding, the United States and Europe could gain leverage in a post-Putin power struggle. They could, for example, help one of Russia’s respected economic technocrats become the interim leader, and they could help the country’s democratic forces build power. Providing aid would also allow the West to avoid repeating its behavior from the 1990s, when Russians felt scammed by the United States, and would make it easier for the population to finally accept the loss of their empire. Russia could then create a new foreign policy, carried out by a class of truly professional diplomats. They could finally do what the current generation of diplomats has been unable to—make Russia a responsible and honest global partner.

BORIS BONDAREV worked as a diplomat in the Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs from 2002 to 2022, most recently as a counsellor at the Russian Mission to the United Nations Office in Geneva. He resigned in May to protest the invasion of Ukraine.

[carldavidson]

The Manufacturing Renaissance Agenda to Build Back Better

Creating Manufacturing Renaissance Councils:  A renaissance in manufacturing requires strong and vibrant organizations gathered in strong public/private coalitions that understand, support, and defend the new responsibilities and the new roles that are required for success.  

We support strong unions, strong community and faith-based organizations, strong management associations, and strong government that are gathered in Manufacturing Renaissance Councils that guide, support, and mobilize public opinion for the Manufacturing Renaissance Agenda and its programs.  We deeply believe that these coalitions are more powerful than the sum of their parts.

Impact of the deindustrialization of America:  In the 1950s, manufacturing represented 27% of GDP.  We had an expanding economy, and a broad-based middle class although still anchored in discrimination by race and gender.  By the late 1970s, we began to witness the rapid destruction of our industrial base with the loss of millions of companies and millions of jobs.  This decline is a major source of growing income inequality, little to no progress in alleviating poverty, and increasing instability in all aspects of life. Today, manufacturing constitutes only 12% of US GDP.

A Foundation for Development:  Manufacturing is central to the health of our society.  It provides good, family-supporting jobs paying $84,000 a year including benefits.  It creates more jobs in the economy than any other sector, creating 5 other jobs in the economy on average—far more than service or retail sector jobs. These are often good union jobs.  A growth in manufacturing can be a tide that lifts all boats including communities, local government, companies, unions, and civic organizations of all types.  It can be at the heart of the compounding and intersecting challenges of our time, especially climate change, wealth inequality, and discrimination based on color, gender, and identity.  

“...Better:” We embrace the slogan of President Biden of “Build Back Better.”  We must “Build Back” our manufacturing sector. But this must be done in a way that is “Better” than in the past when BIPOC as well as women were last hired and first fired and then disproportionately affected by de-industrialization; and when employees were excluded from the critical decisions in the productive process.  Embracing inclusion and empowerment of BIPOC people, employees, and women in all aspects of manufacturing should be our competitive advantage.  

A Green Economy/A Green Society:  We place a manufacturing renaissance at the heart of legislation to address Climate Change and the environmental crisis.  Only the manufacturing sector can create the products and processes that will achieve our environmental goals.  Our goal is 0 emissions.  There must be a dramatic increase in funding for research and product development explicitly tied to climate change.  As important is a just transition for workers and communities most affected by environmental racism and the need to shift away from carbon intensive production and processes.  

Rebuilding manufacturing becomes:

The path for BIPOC to join the Climate Change movement knowing that it’s premised on their inclusion; and

The path for the Green and progressive movement to see the importance and possibilities in manufacturing and re-building inner city communities.

We call for:

A High Road Industrial Policy--Inclusion & Industry 4.0:

1. Manufacturing must represent 20% of US GDP by 2035.

2, Government must provide for equivalent investment in inclusion as in technology.

3. We bring employers, labor unions, community organizations, religious organizations, and government to work together in coalition to promote Inclusion & Industry 4.0 policies.  

4. We encourage participatory management as well as employee ownership. 

5. Manufacturing will help build our communities and restore the environment.

 Industrial Retention:  We must:

1, Close the skills gap.  Millions of jobs are going unfilled due to the lack of exposure, education and training of young people denying our manufacturing companies the talent they need to compete in the global economy.

2. Proactively reach out to smaller companies to identify problems and provide assistance before they become a crisis through the creation of Early Warning Networks.

3. Assist employees as well as Black, Latinx, Indigenous and other people of color entrepreneurs to purchase companies facing a succession challenge.

Education and training:  We need:

1. Expanded programs from pre-school to graduate school in all aspects of manufacturing including production, product development, engineering, management, and entrepreneurship; and

2. Sectoral partnerships between industry and community that focus on racial equity, wrap around and support services, and training including but not limited to apprenticeship.

3. Driving equity in manufacturing:  Federal manufacturing programs like those we propose, the Manufacturing Extension Partnership, Manufacturing USA and others must have explicit goals around diversity, equity, and inclusion, including tracking services by race and mandated partnerships with HBCUs and other Minority Serving Institutions.  

April 4 2021

Dan Swinney, Manufacturing Renaissance www.mfgren.org

David Robinson, Manufacturing Renaissance, www.mfgren.org

Alan Minsky, Progressive Democrats of America, https://pdamerica.org/

Bob Creamer, Democracy Partners, https://democracypartners.com/

Andy Stettner, The Century Foundation, https://tcf.org/

Teresa Cordova, Great Cities Institute, University of IL, https://greatcities.uic.edu/

Michael Bennett, African American Institute for Leadership and Policy, https://theaalpi.org/

Tim Wright, Quintairos, Prieto Wood & Boyer, https://www.qpwblaw.com/

Thomas Hanna, Democracy Collaborative, https://democracycollaborative.org/

[carldavidson]

INSTANT ANALYSIS: My Two Cents

The Three-Cornered Fight

By Carl Davidson

Keep On Keepin’ On

As I watched Trump leaving in the Marine One helicopter, my day was already made. Anything else was gravy. I’ll admit to a few tears—J-lo doing Woody’s Guthrie’s ‘This Land is Your Land’ and the magnificent poet Amanda Gorman ( I didn’t learn until later she practiced hard to overcome her speech impediment to deliver it). But I‘ll put up front what we’ll face in the coming period—a complicated, three-cornered (at least) series of battles. 

First, the GOP cabal in the anti-fascist battle took a hard hit, but they are far from out. About 10 in the Senate and 120 fascist-populist enablers remain in the Congress, and many more in 50 statehouses. This is one corner. 

The second is our corner, Bernie in the Senate, now boosted up to Chair of the Senate Budget Committee, a powerful spot. In the House of Congress,  we have the AOC ‘Squad’ now expanded, and a tougher Congressional Progressive Caucus. All this gives us some clout, but far from hegemony.

President Biden is the third corner, along with his Third Way Centrists, Blue Dogs, and the few GOPers he will win over. He hit the ground running today restoring the Paris Accords, giving a small modicum of student debt relief, and help to the dreamers. But Biden faces not only the ‘uncivil war’ with the right he wants to stop (we can mostly back him here) but also his ‘cascading crises,' four of them—the virus pandemic, a gutted economy, ongoing climate change damage to our habitat, and ongoing racialized injustices. He has at least identified them correctly. 

But on each one, there will be a stingy neoliberal approach and a more full-throated progressive approach to meeting and solving them. On these, if we can't find common ground and unity, we will have to fight it out. We will win some, we will get lousy compromises on some, and we will lose some. Mostly, we will do well first to follow Bernie's and AOC’s lead. And second, we need to build up local and state-wide left, anti-fascist voting blocs, uniting around Medicare for All, changes in a racialized justice system, and a Green New Deal.

International policy, finally, will be a hot point. Biden is already moving on China and Venezuela in negative ways, and he should reverse Trump’s stupid designation of Cuba as a ‘terrorist’ state. We have to demand a foreign policy based on noninterference, mutual assistance, and peaceful co-existence. It will require winning some unity in our own peace and solidarity movements on these points. Let’s get started.

[carldavidson]

Book Review: Globalization, Police and Fascism 

The Global Police State

By William I. Robinison 

London: Pluto Press, 2020

190 pp. Paper $22.68.

Reviewed Jerry Harris

Leftlinks

In the American Revolution Paul Revere famously rode his horse through sleepy New England towns, clanging a bell and warning everyone that British troops were on the march. For the past decade William Robinson has been on a similar mission, alerting all who would listen to the dangers of a rising police state. With the publication of his new book he brings together all the major elements of his analysis in a tightly woven presentation. As Robinson writes; 'I want to develop the concept of global police state to identify more broadly the emerging character of the global economy and society as a repressive totality whose logic is a much economic and cultural as it is political.' (p. 3).

After the introduction the book is organized into four chapters filled with hard hitting data. These are: 

1) Global Capitalism and its Crisis; 

2) Savage Inequalities: The Imperative of Social Control;

 3) Militarized Accumulation and Accumulation by Repression; and 

4) The Battle for the Future. 

His thesis, in simplified terms, is that the capitalist crisis of accumulation results in a large impoverished surplus population that needs to be controlled through a police state which also provides an outlet for surplus capital to be invested. This ruling class bloc is lead by the most reactionary fraction of the transnational capitalist class that creates a social base by using nationalist rhetoric. But this narrative is limited to the political and ideological sphere, and rarely impedes on transnational economic interests.

Robinson's starting point is an examination of the transnational capitalist class (TCC) as the hegemonic fraction of global capitalism. But global capitalism suffers from the crisis of over accumulation which develops from the never ending drive to lower costs, particularly the cost of labor. This takes place through defeating unions, seeking lower wages in the Global South, and the precariatization of labor. Another essential element is replacing labor with technology, which in turn increases unemployment. But as large sections of the working class are pushed into insecurity and unable to buy all that's produced, capitalists need to find other avenues to invest their accumulated wealth. This leads directly to financialization, a process in which trillions are poured into

speculative ventures, debt, derivatives and a plethora of financial markets bringing unimagined wealth to a few, while widening the ranks of those impoverished. Moreover, computerized finance produces trillions in value with a fraction of the labor that was necessary in the old industrial economy. All this would have been virtually impossible to construct without the digital revolution. As Robinson points out “The tech sector becomes a layer that sits across the entire economy” (p. 36), linking finance, media and the military. Not only providing the equipment that runs the global economy, but also tying Silicon Valley to finance capital and military contracts.

Such an economy has created a world labor force in which half the urban population is precarious, and one-third are locked out of work in any given period of time. This vast precariat and surplus population presents a constant danger to the TCC, a danger which must be contained and controlled. To do so the TCC greatly expands the military and other repressive tools and institutions. This not only provides a method of control, but also new areas for investments and profits where over accumulated capital can find a home. Consequently, the path of neoliberal globalization has lead inexorability towards a police state and neo- fascism.

Militarized and repressive accumulation are at the heart of Robinson’s analysis, as it ties together both the need for social control with the core economic strategy of the TCC. As the author states “that unprecedented global inequalities can only be sustained by ubiquitous systems of social control and repression (and) it becomes equally evident that …the TCC has acquired a vested interest in war, conflict, and repression as a means of accumulation” (p. 72). From here Robinson amasses a body of evidence and data to trace the economic size and growth of the defense industry, weapon sales, privatized military organizations, the security industry, surveillance capitalism, the prison-industrial complex and the repressive treatment of migrants and refugees. All this is tied to both the tech industry and finance capital to present a hegemonic bloc wedded to the development of a globalized police state.

This brings us to the last chapter in which Robinson delves more deeply into a Gramscian analysis of hegemonic blocs and their social base. To exercise hegemony the ruling class needs political legitimacy gained through material rewards and ideology. This provides a large and solid base of support, with repressive exclusion for those unwilling or unable to join the system. But as the circle of poverty and instability grows reliance on coercive control comes to

dominate. However, even a police state needs a degree of political support. Unable to provide the same level of material rewards as the Keynesian state, the authoritarian capitalist bloc turns to nationalist and racist appeals and militaristic culture. As Robinson points out the police state project; “hinges on the psychosocial mechanism of displacing mass fear and anxiety at a time of acute capitalist crisis towards scapegoated communities such as immigrants, Muslims, refugees” and a long list of others (p. 117-118). Robinson sees Trump’s populism as “almost entirely symbolic.” Essentially an attempt to appease his angry social base with political rhetoric and an ideological smokescreen. But this presents a fundamental contradiction within the authoritarian hegemonic bloc because the “pretense of economic nationalism disrupts global supply chains and undermines TCC interests (opening) up severe splits in ruling blocs, erodes the ruling groups’ capacity to rule, and heightens the political crisis” (p. 126).

Such instability opens up alternative political paths. But Robinson has little hope or confidence in capitalist reformers. Instead he calls for a revitalized international left forming a broad anti-fascist alliance, but one in which the working class has leadership. That necessitates organization and a clear revolutionary project, and the author urges the formation of a new left international. Whatever the road forward is, Robinson has offered one of the best analysis of the grave dangers we face. His book is not an academic exercise, but a tool in the fight against barbarism. All those involved in the struggle for a better future need to read this book.

Jerry Harris  is the executive director of the Global Studies Association. gharris234@comcast.net

[carldavidson]

Book Review: Mike Stout’s ‘Homestead Steel Mill’ Is a Manual for Organizers

Homestead Steel Mill: The Final Ten Years

USWA Local 1397 and the Fight for Union Democracy

By Mike Stout

PM Press 2020

 By Carl Davidson

Keep on Keepin’ On

Mike Stout’s remarkable new book of a recent large-scale class battle in Western PA can be read in many ways. First, it’s a history of Homestead steelworkers in the last years of their battles to improve their conditions and save their jobs. It’s also Stout’s personal autobiography of a working-class youth radicalized by the 1960s and 1970s and the culture of rebellion of which he was a part. Then one can read it as a fine example of sociological investigation and economic analysis of the Pittsburgh region.

All those brief summations are fine. But most of all, within all these, Stout has written an organizing manual for radicalizing workers of any age embedded in large manufacturing industries. Despite relative declines, these still exist in the Rust Belt and elsewhere. Unfortunately, the current  younger workers in them have never been in a union and only know about them from the lore passed down by fathers and grandfathers. Thus nearly all of them are in dire need of new crews of organizers like Mike Stout--or who at least have studied this book.

What makes Stout’s narrative unique is the quality of his personal commitment. In the 1970s, thousands of radicalized young college students, with or without degrees, went into the factories to organize ‘for the revolution.’ A few did well; most did not. But Stout was not one of these. Getting into the mill and the struggle there was a step up for him, as an unemployed kid from Kentucky trying to make a living as a political rock and roller and folk singer. He desperately needed a day job, and getting into Homestead mill enabled him to do both, however hard the work. He had more in common with the returning Vietnam vets in the mill than transplanted student radicals, not that he lacked respect for the latter.

This is not to say that the thousands of workers in a four-mile-long mill were monolithic. Far from it. Stout goes on at length throughout the book describing rivalries between a dozen nationalities, between races and sexes, generations, skilled and lesser skilled, and old timers and newcomers.

‘As the book’s title suggests, however, Stout sticks to his outline of ‘the last ten years,’ although it stretches a bit longer to include the aftermath. At the start, hardly anyone had a premonition of what was in store for them—the mills had been there as long as anyone could remember, and thus they would continue into the future. What was different was the owners were squeezing the workers harder, and after the Red purges of the 1950s, the unions had grown cozier with the bosses, The stage was set for rank and file insurgency, and this is the setting Stout entered as a new hire.

Nearly everyone in Western PA gets a nickname in high school or at work. Stout was no different, and his fellow workers tagged him ‘Kentucky’ and it stuck.  He laid low in his early months, trying to find the best ways to survive and thrive working rotating shifts. The older ‘beer and a shot’ workers in the bars raised an eyebrow because he only drank red wine, but he slid in easy with the younger crowd that liked their alcohol combined with reefer. Mainly Stout had his eye on a crane operating job, but he was amazed at the skills—and luck—involved to do it safely.  It would take some time. But early on, he got the reputation as a guy who resisted any crap thrown at him by foremen. This led him to find a small group of militant workers seeking to find a way to change the union into an instrument that would fight for them.

They certainly had a history behind them. Homestead was a center for more than 150,000 steelworkers in Western PA and neighboring states. The ‘Battle of Homestead’ of the previous century had been compared to the Paris Commune, and fierce battles of the Steel Workers Organizing Committee in the 1930s had helped found the CIO. FDR’s Labor Secretary, Frances Perkins, visited the Homestead Works, but forbidden to speak on the grounds. Legend has it that she spotted a US flag flying over a post office, made her way there, where she delivered a fiery speech for the rights of labor.

Stout quickly joined up with the rank-and-file group and started planning a campaign. Perhaps their most important early project was to start a plant-wide newspaper, the 1397 Rank and Filer.  Stout’s description of its impact and evolution over the years is an instructive tale of how a newspaper can become a ‘collective organizer.’ When an organization had to spread the word over a mill measured in square miles, and where thousands of workers on one end often knew little of events on another, it was indispensable. Moreover, the mill was subdivided into what Spout called ‘feudal fiefdoms’ ruled by petty tyrants with divide and rule tactics

The workers also had to have access to the newspaper and to trust it. So it was open to letters, hand-drawn cartoons, and a popular feature called ‘Plant Plague’ that expose the injustices and pure nastiness of plant foremen. It also published studies of the union contract and the misdeeds of the union officials, all with an eye toward replacing them.

After many skirmishes, it paid off. The Local 1397 Rank and File Caucus eventually evolved from a militant minority to a progressive majority of union members and took over the local. There’s a long story in between, of course, but it’s worth reading Stout’s account in full.

For his own role, Stout appears to have made several wise decisions early on and stuck to them. One was to keep his connection with the editorial group that put out the newspaper, both before and after the takeover of the local. The other was to avoid seeking a top post for himself. Early on, because of his unflinching willingness to not only defend workers with a beef, but also to get them involved in their own defense, he rose to a more organic leader. This meant he became a ‘griever’ or grievanceman, eventually becoming a chief griever, and one of the best of them. It might take years, but Stout often won his cases. Even if a worker died, he persisted, winning benefits for surviving families.

Another reason for Stout’s influence was practicing a consistent left politics, expressed in his own terms, and never trying to hide his values, despite red-baiting and other attempts at personal slanders. He offers several accounts of standing up against racism and sexism when it erupted among the workers themselves, as well as used as a weapon by supervisors and other higher-ups.

Stout was known as a socialist inside and outside the mill. At one point, he was connected with the Revolutionary Union, an early 1970s Marxist-Leninist nationwide group. It had rank-and-file union newspapers in other cities and industries, but Stout detached from it as it became too sectarian for his taste.

But what is powerfully portrayed in the book is Stout’s astute combinations of politics with culture. Its pages are replete with the lyrics of dozens of songs written for working-class battles in Homestead and beyond. Together with them are stories of how music was used for firing up picket lines or finding creative ways to raise money. It helped that Stout was good at it, not just knowing a few old labor songs, but pulling together full-fledged rock band performances.

By the middle of the book, you get pulled into the sense of impending doom shared among the workers. What we now know as ‘the Rust Belt’ was being born. Faced with competition abroad and poor management at home, neoliberal capitalism tore up its postwar ‘social contracts.’ Corporate boardrooms closed plants here and shipped production offshore in search of cheaper labor. In some cases, it used modernization to cut workforces by half or more, while keeping production at old levels.

At this point, both Local 1397 and the USW generally learned that unions could not survive without wider allies. Stout unfolds the saga of the nationwide movements in the 1980s and 1990s against plant closings. Workers sought community and government  partners in an effort to save profitable businesses by innovation and reorganization, or even in some cases, attempting to buy out and take over the plants themselves.

None of these paid off much, at least in the Homestead area. Stout describes somes of the proposed deals as ‘Last Suppers before our execution.’ But he nonetheless tells a tale of the value of persistence, where he continued to carry on battles and win major grievances for workers even after the plant was closed, the union reduced to a shell and Stout himself among the unemployed. He soldiered on by forming a union print shop as a workers coop, as well as making a few bucks playing concerts here and abroad.

Despite this grim conclusion, ‘Homestead Steel Mill: The Last Ten Years’ is a hopeful book. It draws positive lessons from defeats, showing the need for wider and more protracted political strategies. It’s not enough to press liberals to do good things; workers need a vision of taking power themselves. And the lessons of its victories stand out as well. Workers can win when they are well-organized, well-informed, and well-inspired. They need a culture of solidarity and mutual aid to fight for what belongs to them, not only the part, but the whole deal. You can buy the book HERE

[carldavidson]

INSTANT ANALYSIS, NIGHT FOUR. My two cents. 

By Carl Davidson

This was a night for our full conflicted consciousness to be on display. It opened with the joyful music from African American culture, with music from the church blending into modern rap and hip hop, calling out hope for the future. It was quickly followed by Rep Debra Anne Haaland of New Mexico, a member of the state's Laguna people, who migrated there and built their pueblos long before Columbus, Naturally, she was backing Biden, but simply that she stood there spoke volumes more.

The session ended with Biden asking God to bless our troops, a departure from the usual phrase, reminding us that his was a military family, as well as one rooted in the working class. (He calls it the 'middle class', a term I can't stand. It reduces us to consumers. If you asked a guy from my hometown, Aliquippa, in Western PA, when he was at work, what class he was in, he'd look at his hands and say 'working class'. But if you asked him the same question on Sunday, he'd look around his yard and porch furniture and say 'middle class,' dividing him from the 'lower class.'). Gramsci's 'conflicted consciousness' spotlights it all.

Those contradictions are part of the story of my life. When I grew up in the 1950s, we didn't call it 'the military,' we called it 'the service.' I saw too many high school buddies drawn into it, then sent to Vietnam, perhaps to recover later from physical wounds, but not the psychic ones. I was one who refused, and dedicated 15 years of my life, through battles large and small, to bring it to an end. Part of the reason was that my eyes were opened by the other battles praised that night, from John Lewis eulogies to hearing Ella Baker quoted as a speech opening. I knew Lewis personally, who stayed with me a few days at Penn State and inspired me to do my 'tour of duty' in the Deep South. Ella Baker was the mother and teacher of us all in those days. So for me, I have bitter memories of the Democratic party of those years, of the escalation in Vietnam and the sellouts of Blacks in Atlantic City and Mississippi.

I have family members in 'the service' today--Coast Guard, Marines, Homeland Security. They chose their careers for honorable reasons, and did well in them. I knew Illinois' s Sen.Tammy Duckworth when she first ran for office. So when images of our soldiers in Iraq crossed the screen tonight, there was a void. Those of us who rose up against that invasion and ongoing occupation knew it well. It was a stupid, brutal, unjust and imperialist venture, with Trump even bragging just today, 'I got the oil, We'll keep the oil.' I'd rather Duckworth had her two legs. And while Biden went on about his support for military families, which I understand, I also noticed a silence. He refused to mention his support for that war, backing the GOP, even though his own party was divided, starting with the heroic stand of Rep, Barbara Lee.

The story of Biden's empathy is authentic. I think it largely rises from his successful but still evident battle with his stutter. And the story shown of how he helped the young boy working on the same problem was heartwarming. No one can ignore the contrast with Trump on camera mocking a reporter with a stutter and a crippled hand. It tells you all you need to know about Trump, even though there is much more pond scum where that came from. The Democratic party is deeply conflicted this round; the GOP, on the other hand, has devolved into a fascist death cult devoid of shame. So I will give Biden a vote to defeat the fascist cult, but I don't kid myself that the Dems are one happy family. Far from it.

Biden ended with a line from the Irish poet looking for a day when hope and history would rhyme. It's a good line, but my guess it will arrive in a way unforeseen. The virus, together with all our other conflicts, has made the world, for the first time, view us not with fear but with pity. It's the end of the era of the America of Empire, and perhaps a beginning for the era of an America of popular democracy. If so, there will be much more room for poets and less for soldiers.

[carldavidson]

INSTANT ANALYSIS, NIGHT THREE. My two cents. 

By Carl Davidson

This evening was a tribute and a celebration of women, not only in politics but in the entire life of the country. We expect it of Democrats these days, in the wake of the risings of the 1960s and 70s. It wasn't always so. But I have always admired strong and unbowed women, most likely because my mother was one. Not only her but also her sisters and all the tough working-class women of my extended family.

I loved Elizabeth Warren's story about her Aunt Bea, who came to her rescue when the burdens of the house and children were too heavy. It reminded me of my Great Grandma Minnie, who showed up on the doorstep with two suitcases when my Mom was due to deliver a new brother or sister, or when all of us kids were down with whooping cough. There are women like these throughout the working class, and to see them paid some due respect was heartening, even if many Democrats, not to mention the GOP, had to be pulled here with their heels dragging.

The key political point of the night was made by Barack Obama. It was a dramatic warning that American democracy, even with the flaws of its class blinders, was at stake. He stretched it to new dimensions, and I could hear the tropes of John Dewey's philosophical exploration of a democracy of mass participation in his phrasing. He also warned us about the little cop of cynicism that resides between our ears, the one that whispers two lies, nothing changes and you have no power anyway. The truth is everything changes and with solidarity, we have immense power. After outlining for us all of the virtues of democracy American-style, he coldly told us a chilling truth about Trump and his crew: they don't believe in any of it. And it's up for grabs unless we act. Therein was a warning of the fascist danger.

Kamala Harris wrapped up the night. Some on the left, in my opinion, misjudge her, thinking she's a rightwing cop because she was a DA and an Attorney General. To be polite, it's reductionist. As Senator, she voted 92% of the time with Bernie Sanders. As a prosecutor, she made some decisions worthy of criticism. But she also took on finance capital and organized crime, winning billions for homeowners and others. My hero in Congress, Barbara Lee, thinks well of her. Harris softened the stern persona she revealed when slicing up William Barr in Congress, and she touched my bases by naming Fannie Lou Hamer and SNCC's Diane Nash as inspirations. My point? I don't think her story is finished and we will see what unfolds.

[carldavidson]

INSTANT ANALYSIS, NIGHT TWO: My two cents. 

By Carl Davidson

This session's task was mainly to humanize the Democrats and Biden and his family. It did a fairly effective job of it, including things that I don't support. I'm talking about the section on national security and international relations toward the end. Biden's presidency will work to restore Cold War hegemonism with the US as 'leader of the free world.' That was the content of John Kerry and Colin Powell's short speeches, both underscoring how Trump has wrecked the earlier US position in favor of a weird alliance with Putin, the UAE and Turkey. Trump's dalliance with Kim Jong Un defies rationality of any sort, as does his trade war with China. The real question is whether anyone can make US imperialism 'normal' again. I think not, and even Biden will have to adapt to a multipolar world in some new way. The only contrast to this stance was implied in Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez's brief speech nominating Bernie. She touched on decolonization and a different relationship with other peoples: "...a movement striving to recognize and repair the wounds of racial injustice, colonization, misogyny, and homophobia, and to propose and build reimagined systems of immigration and foreign policy that turn away from the violence and xenophobia of our past." (Something positive could also be said for both Kerry and Powell's presence, in that it served as a warning to Trump that the Pentagon, State Dept and intelligence agencies were not likely to brook any nonsense about his refusing to leave office when defeated). I enjoyed the roll call most. Rather than droning on a packed arena floor, we got to see real people in their states and territories, and something about them. Best was the shoutout of tallies for Bernie and Joe. Of course, Bernie lost, but for me, as a socialist, to hear that we had chalked up a sizable minority of delegates, and hearing them repeated from all over, was an inspiration for the struggle to continue. Bernie will be emeritus, of course, as will I. But AOC and 'The Squad', and the Bernie union people, will carry on through the next rounds, gaining strength, until a new First Party emerges. One last point for those in my age cohort. Listening to Caroline Kennedy, I recalled the little girl playing with John-John on the White House lawn. Then I looked at her son, and unmistakably saw how different he looked from his Mom, but clearly, he was the Grandson of Jacqueline Bouvier.

[carldavidson]

INSTANT ANALYSIS: MY TWO CENTS...

By Carl Davidson

Between Bernie Sanders and Michelle Obama, we got the solid call for a popular front against fascism. Bernie ran down the platform of the left, but tailored it to unite with the many in the center and some among the right who are deserting the GOP as well.

Michelle Obama, however, hit the ball out of the park with bases loaded, with a speech that both dug into the emotional depth of progressive politics and voiced razor-like and understated takedowns of Trump. One of my favorites, which I've often expressed myself, is that he's just 'in way over his head' and not up for the job. She also issued a dark warning, as did Bernie: if you think it can't get worse, it can, and it will if Trump is not crushed in November.

I also thought the format came off decently even if a bit hokey at points. (It was the first time out for a virtual convention.) The music was excellent, and I teared up when John Prine was singing, himself a victim of the virus. The brief statements from the frontline medical workers and survivors were moving and brilliant. And throughout, great care was taken to reveal and celebrate the rainbow diversity of our working class and our people generally. I know very well the nature of our Democratic party, and the class character of those who control its central levers. But this round, this is the hand we're dealt, and I'm not one to fold. We'll see what follows over the next few days.

[carldavidson]

I STARTED AS A PHYSICS MAJOR INTERESTED IN THE STARS. But with the felt danger of nuclear war at the Cuba crisis, I started questioning it, then got into the philosophy of science, then the history of philosophy, then from Hegel into Marx. I stayed there since Marx helped me understand the working class I came from and how we could get free. But it was never enough. Kerouac's Dharma Bums, a serious book on Buddhism, got me deeper into it as well, and I studied with a Zen Monk in Nebraska and read Henry Bugbee, a Daoist with American characteristics, in Montana from Penn State. Now with this little piece, I see I was on to something, and I was not alone.

[carldavidson]

The Biggest Guns: The Social Base of Militarism

By Carl Davidson

ONE TRILLION DOLLARS. FOR A GROUP OF PLANES THAT CAN'T FLY HALF THE TIME. Now here's the question. Who among your neighbors--all who say we can't afford immigrants or health care or green energy--then bother to ask 'can we afford it for these weapons? 

My guess is practically none do.

The interesting question is why. First, they think we need them to be safe. We don't. They don't even work half the time. Second, they think we need them to sell them to the Arabs oil guys to protect the oil. We don't. All it means is some people get rich on the sales, and it's not us. 

The third is the one not mentioned much. Making weapons is a jobs program. About 10% of the workers in our country work for the military industries in one way or another. It pays well. It puts you in the ‘middle class’ so far as consumption is concerned.

It also pays well to the Congresscritters who get the military factories and facilities in their districts. It's a kind of affirmative action for skilled workers in the trades that build these things and supply the parts and maintenance. 

Their income is on the government tab, sucking on that teat far more than all the assistance cases for those at the bottom combined.

If you think the F-35 protects you, read this NYT article above. It doesn't, and in a way, it doesn't matter. It does a 'more important' job. It's a drug that dopes up a large number of workers and their families. It clouds their brains so they are blind to what the country really needs, and why we live in a culture of death, guns, and slaughter, and think it's normal. 

It isn't normal. Awaken, and take a stand to end it. Find your local peace group. We have Beaver County Peace Links, and we have a table at the Big Knob Fair. Come visit us.

[carldavidson]

IT WILL TAKE MORE THAN TODAY'S HEARINGS TO IMPEACH TRUMP 

By Carl Davidson

Keep On Keepin’ On

 That’s my conclusion from watching today’s Mueller hearing and the ensuing commentary. I'm one who believes that when it comes to high crimes and misdemeanors, Trump is guilty as sin. But that's because I've not only read 'The Report', I've dug into a lot more, beyond the parameters put of the Special Prosecutor and his team have been allowed to do. Trump, for example, has been laundering billons for Russian oligarchs for decades, ever since his Atlantic City casinos went bust. But these kinds of facts, along with Trump’s tax returns, are supposed to be out of bounds.

Likewise with today's events. Mueller placed himself in a self-constricted box ahead of time, saying his testimony would be limited by the 'four corners' of the report. This left his GOP inquisitors free to rant and rave unchallenged except defensively. Mueller had restrictions; they didn't.

There's one way it could be overcome. It just requires every adult citizen to read the 448-page report for themselves. Unfortunately, that is not likely to happen. One reason among many is that Trump's button-pushing daily spectacles put up a smokescreen. He wants us to ignore the crisis is steel caused by his tariffs, or embrace his policy of cruelty toward people at our borders seeking safety and work.

Trump's latest bizarre assertion, that Article Two of the Constitution means he 'can do whatever I want', is reason enough for an impeachment hearing. Article Two does the exact opposite, defining any number of things a US president cannot do. This is the voice of a tyrannical autocrat, and dealing with it put us in a situation that is not going to end well. We are in uncharted territory where ‘normal’ gets redefined every day.

Probably a third of the country would like to see Trump impeached. The NAACP national convention a few days ago called for it unanimously. Another third want to see him re-elected no matter what he says or does, some because they give his racism a pass and cling to his promises; others because they have been enclosed into Trump's fascistic, anti-Constitutional bubble. This means the battles continue to get him out, by an election or impeachment, whichever comes first. But this is not a spectator sport. If you're not already engaged, the time to start is now.

[carldavidson]

Picture: Rebellion on the Amistead.

[This is a brief comment i wrote five years back that seems relevant here]

On Natural Vanguards A Comment on David Graeber’s “Twilight of Vanguardism”

January 2007

By Carl Davidson

I think those opposed to “vanguardism,” or even those in favor of it, often have their own definitions of the term that are too narrow.

For instance, at any given time, I find it useful to try to figure out the proportions of advanced, middle and backward among the general population in regards to politics. The backward are those who like and defend the existing order of oppression, the middle don’t want to be bothered with politics all that much because it doesn’t make sense in their daily lives and they are focused on themselves and family, and the advanced are those who see the present order as unfair, unjust and/or oppressive and would like to do something to change it.

This “sectoring” is fluid; any given individual can move from one to another from time to time as conditions vary. But at any given time, the advanced are usually a minority, although they may be a relatively large minority.

Within the advanced, moreover, there are those who are presently active and those who are waiting to do something, those who are in organizations, mass or otherwise, and those who haven’t joined anything yet, and those who think just a few major reforms will do and those who think the whole system has to go.

This narrows things down a bit. If you look at the advanced who are active, in an organization and who think the whole order needs to be replaced, you have what I would call the revolutionary vanguard. Notice that I didn’t say they had to be in ONE organization, or have ONE program, or leader. At some point they might, although it’s unlikely and certainly doesn’t happen by declaration or fiat or self-assertion. In any case, this grouping is what I would call the “natural vanguard” that shrinks or swells with the ebb and flow of class struggle and social crisis.

Now there are many organizations in the “natural vanguard.” Some better, some worse. Some on an open road; some stuck in a cul-de-sac.Does any one or any one cluster of them ever get to be “the vanguard party?”

Only if certain conditions are met, including one very practical but often ignored factor: your group gets to be a LEADER if it has FOLLOWERS.

This seems clear as day to me, but we still have dozens of groups running around claiming to be the leader, but they don’t have any followers or supporters to speak of. They have the mistaken notion that a ‘correct line’ or ‘scientific program’ is sufficient, even granting that there is such a thing. Myself, I’ve come to the conclusion that I much prefer to work in groups that deal in ‘fruitful working hypotheses’ rather than ‘correct lines.’

I would say that to be the vanguard party, or the vanguard anything, a group or alliance of groups has to earn that designation by, first, winning over the vast majority of the advanced sector to choose it as their own organization; and second, by then in turn winning over large numbers of the middle forces to respect and follow its course of action, at least a good part of the time. 

Becoming a vanguard in this sense is something that is done practically and over time. The best examples I can think of were Vietnam and China. It simply means that masses of people recognize your group’s leadership ability that they will want to defend and protect you against the enemy, and finally, will want to join your ranks and shape the group’s politics and future themselves.

All the other disputes about the “genuine” vanguard status being achieved by assembling varying sets of principles or ideological coda is more in tune with medieval theological or Talmudic disputation, rather than the kind of fresh thinking we need today.

[carldavidson]

Book Review: Bringing Police Torture in Chicago to the Full Light of Day

The Torture Machine: Racism and Police Violence in Chicago By Flint Taylor Haymarket Books, Chicago March 2019, $27.00

By Carl Davidson LeftLinks

Flint Taylor's new book, 'The Torture Machine: Racism and Police Violence in Chicago,' is one of those remarkable works that won't fit under any one category. It's at once a history of a civil and human rights battles in Chicago with national and global reach, a text of modern urban sociology, an example of critical legal theory, a long polemic against white and class privilege, a literature of political exposure, a manual of strategy and tactics and, last but not least, for Flint himself, an autobiography. In its pages, Chicago's top lawyer of the left also shares with us the intense and determined commitment, with all his highs and lows, that lasted through five decades of his personal life to the present day.

The narrative begins with Taylor as a young man, teamed up with other young radical lawyers fresh from passing their bar exams. They had been working with Chicago's Black Panther Party and were among the first on the scene just after Fred Hampton was murdered in his bed. As the cops pulled out, the young lawyers managed to take over and secure the site, and pulled in the media and community leaders to examine the scene before any evidence was altered or disappeared. The reaction sent shock waves through Chicago, since it was clear there was no 'shoot-out,' as authorities had claimed, but cold-blooded assassination by Chicago police, with an assist from the FBI. To make a long story short, Hampton's killers were never tried and walked free, but Taylor and his fellow legal team won a substantial wrongful death settlement from the City of Chicago for Hampton's family in 1982. In the spirit of the times, the young lawyers took their share of the settlement and used it help sustain the People's Law Office (PLO), dedicated to fighting police brutality and other injustices in the greater Chicago area, which they had founded in 1969.

To this day, the Chicago Police Department has never stopped supplying the PLO and other progressive lawyers with a constant source of new clients seeking justice. Whether by mistreating young people of color on the streets, trying to suppress free speech and protest, abusing of men in prison, attacking the LBGTQ community, or warping the courts with false evidence and accusations, through the daily practice of the CPD, the State's Attorney's office and City Hall, Chicagoans experienced or witnessed a decades-long reign of terror carried out by a police force with the rarely, if ever, observed mission of 'we serve and protect.'

The book cover of 'The Torture Machine' features an odd graphic at the heart of the story. Anyone not yet familiar will be puzzled by it. It's a plain black box with a series of wires streaming out of it, along with a crank handle and knobs. It's a replica of a device concocted by GIs in Vietnam to torture captured Vietnamese, both soldiers and civilians. Based on field telephones that could be charged up by cranking the handle, the wires, with alligator clips, would be connected to fingers, ears, nipples, testicles and genitals to deliver severe shocks and burns. Its jerry-rigged purpose was to torture those it was inflicted upon, to punish, and to extract information, all at once.

What did the device have to do with Chicago? Taylor and the PLO team, in taking up brutality and wrongful conviction cases over several years, kept hearing from clients that 'confessions' had been extracted from them by torture, and these accounts often had one thing in common, the mention of this device and its use in Chicago's Area Two police headquarters, in its upstairs detective offices headed up by Lt. Jon Burge, and a team of more than a dozen detectives and other CPD officers. Flint Taylor

The PLO lawyers did a simple but radical thing. They took their clients at their word. They believed them and set about digging up the truth of their claims. They learned that Burge was a Vietnam veteran, and learned to use the electric shock device on prisoners during the war. Once Burge was in the CPD and moving up to detective rank, he had built at least one of his own, and was making use of it on Black male prisoners. And not just one or two prisoners, but at least 100 or more. Nor was it a rare event. Burge did it regularly, over decades. Nor did he do it alone; he had a squad of more than a dozen Area 2 and Area 3 detectives regularly using the box and other torture devices, such as plastic bags for suffocation. While they worked this evil mainly at night in the upstairs rooms of Area 2, they weren't hidden from other cops. Others, all the way to the top of the CPD, knew about it. Likewise, the States Attorneys, some judges, and the Mayor's office-in short, to one degree or another, the entire criminal justice system in the city was complicit in torture and other human rights abuses.

These assertions may seem far-fetched and over-the-top, at least to those unfamiliar with Chicago's politics and police. But the power of the book is Taylor's relentless and tenacious bringing the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, to the surface and the bright light of day. He had to do it doggedly, repetitively and sometimes little piece by little piece, decade after decade. But in the end, there it is, and there's no one who can deny it without turning beet red with shame.

The torture saga begins with an incident in the early 1980s, where two Chicago police officers were shot and killed in an altercation with several Black men they had stopped. Over the next five days, six men were soon rounded up and tortured, and two of them, Andrew and Jackie Wilson, brothers, made 'confessions' and were found guilty of the killings. Jackie Wilson contended that police abused him during interrogation, and his co-defendant and brother Andrew, was found by doctors after his interrogation to have numerous injuries. From prison, Andrew Wilson contacted the PLO and asked if they would work on a federal civil rights case, since his confession was extracted by torture.

'Labyrinthine' would be a mild word for the complex maneuvers through the courts on the cases of the two brothers over several years. But thanks to the PLO and allies, Jackie Wilson, sentenced to life, won his freedom. Andrew Wilson, sentenced to death, won a new trial, was convicted again, but was sentenced to life instead of death, and eventually died in prison. Andrew had also won a federal civil rights judgment.

Intermixed with the Wilson cases are dozens of others, some who committed no crime save being in the wrong place at the wrong time, with many victories for the defendants and their families. The crass examples of racial and class privilege and abuse in the prisons and courts introduced in Taylor's accounts could fill a book on any one of those charged.

Chicago authorities were not happy with the work of the PLO lawyers. Time and again they were slandered as liars, con artists and only in it for the money made in million-dollar settlements. The cops were especially hostile and the source of threats of violence as well. But opposing attorneys, politicians, and supposedly neutral judges piled on as well.

Several key points, however, stand out in the course of the book and the evidence behind it. First, Taylor and his PLO colleagues were meticulous in putting the interests of their clients and their client's families first and foremost. Second, they went to great lengths in 'seeking truth from facts', even when dangerous to themselves. Third, they deserved every penny they got, and continue to get, in settlements-a good deal of which keeps the People's Law Office alive and functioning for future cases.

But Taylor also had another motive, which weaves through the book like a red thread. He is determined to bring Jon Burge to justice, to try him in a court of law, and see him sent to prison. Moreover, he wants to see Burge's boss, Richard M. Daley, held accountable. To accomplish these goals, Taylor and the PLO are well aware that the effort will be political as well as legal.

This is where a unique value of 'The Torture Machine' shines. It's a field manual of strategy and tactics, and Taylor is very good at it. From the start, he seizes every opportunity at the use of media to build his clients' stories with a bigger picture of big-city politics, corruption, and injustice. It doesn't matter if it's a small neighborhood newsletter, the independent Chicago Reader, the widely read free paper selling futons along with progressive news, the Chicago Defender and other small Black newspapers, the Sun-Times and the Tribune, local and national TV, and the New York Times and other national publications. As one of his adversaries warned, 'there's nothing more dangerous than letting Flint Taylor get in front of a camera or microphone.'

Even in unfriendly news outlets, Taylor takes the trouble to find and befriend those reporters with an open mind and a degree of professional objectively, if not sympathy. His goal seems to be recognizing that the court record is not the only record of value, and once something is in print or on tape, it might have multiple uses elsewhere, in or out of court, and often does. Taylor is also deft at building organizations and making use of coalitions, acknowledging a truth that trials are not only won in courtrooms, but in the wider community as well. Organizations not 'officers of the court' can often speak more freely to the public. To win the victories and settlements aimed for, the PLO often had to assist in building an entire counter-hegemonic bloc, from people in the neighborhoods to the media and political groups, to a majority of the City Council.

Taylor and his comrades also do well in finding and making good use of conflicts and tensions in the camp of their adversaries. They evaluate judges one by one, check out the family inter-connections of various police officers and officials, looking for hints of bias, and make good use of the well-known differences between African American patrolmen and the rest of the force-all to find information to get them closer to the truths that will help their clients. A handful of cops even come forward out of the blue, disgusted with what they know is happening and breaking the 'code of silence.' One goes to great length to remain secret-Flint nicknames him or her 'Deep Badge'-but he or she helped reveal the scope and breadth of the torture scandal (it was early on in the history of the scandal)

In the end, Taylor gets his man. First Burge is suspended, then fired, and retires with his pension and boat, the Vigilante (you can't make this up!). But even as the statute of limitations runs out, Taylor makes trips to Florida (with bodyguard) to depose Burge, gets him back in court, and gets him found guilty of perjury, and finally sentenced to 4 and a half years in prison. Burge is broken physically but remains an unbowed racist and fascist to the bitter end. His luck with Daley is not quite as good. Taylor wins motion after motion to bring Daley to a deposition table, but Daley is not without resources and manages to parry all but one narrow last decision, one that might still go the wrong way for the former mayor. The final version of the book reveals that Daley, now suffering from the effects of a reported stroke, was deposed by Taylor in 2018 but the transcript is shrouded in court-ordered secrecy.

As Taylor notes, however, this is far from the only reason that Burge's fate is only a partial victory. True, the PLO and allied lawyers have forced the city to pay over $130 million to those tortured and their families-not counting the enormous costs of lawyers for the police. Many police involved remain free and many tortured prisoners remain behind bars. The torture outrages will 'never be behind us,' Taylor writes in his epilogue, not until Chicago 'reckons fully with the racist nature of law enforcement and mass incarceration.'

-----

Carl Davidson is the editor of Leftlinks, a DSA member and serves on the National Committee of Committees of Correspondence for Democracy and Socialism. He is author of several books, including 'New Paths to Socialism,' available at Changemaker Publications.

[carldavidson]

Trump’s’State of the Union’: Let’s Glorify Chauvinism and the Superpower Blindspot

By Carl Davidson

INSTANT ANALYSIS: My Two Cents. President Trump delivered an overlong and underweight 'State of the Union' address that had a contentious underlying theme. Calling for an end to partisan opposition, he was asserting a hegemony that he was still far from achieving, especially with only a third of the country favorable toward him. What was worse, he basically threatened Congress with a demand to end the investigations concerning the 2016 election and related corrupt and abusive practices, or there would be no peace abroad or legislation at home.

Overall the speech was laced with 'Great Nation' nationalism and chauvinism. He directly pushed a wedge trying to divide the US working class against distressed people seeking asylum at the southern border. He falsely blamed immigrants with distressing our safety net and taking away jobs, all while portraying them as violent rapists, drug dealers, and violent criminals generally.

Nearly none of this is true. Illegal border crossings have been in decline for years. Immigrants without papers are not eligible for safety net benefits. As a demographic group, they are less prone to criminal activity than the average American. And their overall impact on the economy and the communities where they live is positive.

Trump indulged in absurd exaggerations concerning American and world history. No one doubts the importance of D-Day and the opening of the 2nd Front in WW2. But to call it 'the most momentous battle in the history of war' would make any serious student of history wince. Stalingrad was the battle that broke the Nazi war machine.

He did likewise on the state of the economy. 'We are considered far and away the hottest economy anywhere in the world. Not even close.' China's steady economic growth over nearly two decades gets that position.

Trump did acknowledge some advances for women in the labor force and in recent elections. It was hard not to, since Speaker Nancy Pelosi and all the Democratic women were wearing white, a visual tribute to the suffragists of 100 years ago. It also stood out when Trump backed efforts to make late-term abortions illegal, rare procedures usually required when a woman's life is endangered by pregnancies turned toxic. The silence of the white-clad section of the room spoke volumes.

But the greatest dangers were his treatment of matters of war and peace. Trump scraped the INF treaty in Europe and threatened a nuclear arms race. He 'recognized' the new 'president' of Venezuela, a blatant intervention against the duly elected Maduro government. He also threatened regime change in Iran. Only in Syria and Afghanistan did he suggest US troops would be coming home soon.

The fatal flaw in Trumpism is his resurrection of 'America First,' the slogan of the pro-German rightwingers in the late 1930s. It was a terrible position then, and still bad in today's multipolar world. While every country is expected to work for its interests, there are global problems, such as climate change or intractable regional conflicts, that require a degree of inter-dependence, joint efforts, compromises, and the seeking of common ground. Trump will need all of these to come to a successful agreement with the DPRK at the end of the month, where he will find out that 'de-nuclearization' requires action by both sides in the region. We'll see how it unfolds.

Finally, I was amused by Trump's warning about socialism being considered on the home front, and that the US would never go for it. We've got one socialist Senator and two DSA members in Congress, and he feels the need to unload like we're on the cusp of armed insurrection. But with the supportive applause, he got from about 80% of the attendees on that line, it shows they're worried. Good. I'll take it as a compliment.

[carldavidson]

INSTANT ANALYSIS: MY TWO CENTS: On Trump’s Teleprompter Tirade against Murderous, Thieving, Dope Smuggling and Cop-Killing Illegal Immigrant Rapists of Our Women and Young Girls--All in Less than 10 Minutes

 By Carl Davidson

Keep on Keeepin’ On

To get at the heart of Trump’s 10-minute performance on prime time January 8, we need to get clear on a long-standing feature from the dark side of American politics and culture, i.e., race-baiting. Or to be more precise with Trump’s closing rant, illegal immigrant-baiting.

“He just turned immigrants all into ‘Willie Horton’” was the crisp and succinct way my partner put it. Those of you who were around for the infamous ad in the campaign by the elder Bush against Michael Dukakis back in 1988 will know exactly what she meant. For those of who weren’t, Lee Atwater, a GOP operative, took a case of an inmate on furlough in Massachusetts, one William Horton, who was arrested soon after and convicted for raping a woman and stabbing her friend, and turned an ugly mugshot of Horton into an ad blaming the crimes on Dukakis.

"By the time we're finished, they're going to wonder whether Willie Horton is Dukakis' running mate," quipped Atwater at the time. Years later, facing an early death from cancer, Atwater apologized to Dukakis for ‘naked cruelty’ that grew from a ‘tumor of the soul’ in American racialized politics.

What does a race baiter do? He picks a particularly vile example of an outrage, real or fiction, attached to a person of color, and uses it to condemn an entire category of people, whipping up a generalized fear of ‘The Other’ in the minds of his designated popular base, to entice them into supporting repressive responses. The outrage is the ‘bait’ on the hook of social control and manipulation.

Trump’s aim was for us to take the bait. He knows as well as anyone that the illegal immigrant population, as a whole, once living in the U.S., is more law-abiding than the American average. He knows that a majority of the undocumented in the U.S. enter the country legally, then overstayed their visas. He knows that most drugs entering the country from Mexico do so on trucks and cars at ports of entry, or planes at airports. He knows that his immigration policies are designed to curb all immigrants from ‘shit hole’ countries, legal or otherwise, while enticing the highly educated from 'Norway' instead.

Trump wants you to see him as your savior against ‘them,’ those seeking safety and work. And to keep you fired up, he has to insist on including the irrational into any rational package of reforms making for decent treatment of immigrants at well-regulated and efficient border crossings.

But what’s the larger purpose? My guess is that it serves as a distraction. It diverts our attention away from a more serious challenge to his presidency, his business and his family, the step-by-step relentless series of indictments and convictions coming from Special Prosecutor Robert Mueller, who is likely soon to reveal a Donald Trump that no one voted for. Then we'll be tested more seriously.

[carldavidson]

OUR CONFLICTED STORIES...

By Carl Davidson

Keep On Keepin’ On

MANY THINGS DON’T BOTHER ME MUCH, BUT A FEW THINGS BOTHER ME A LOT. One is how our minds work, especially about what we think we know, mainly the memories and lessons we draw on when we are faced with choices and problems. Some are rules we believe workable. But most of us most of the time, and all of us some of the time, rely on NARRATIVE, OR STORIES, some told to us yesterday, some we overheard, many more that we recall from our memories, both of things we directly experienced or indirectly heard or read about.

Our minds are full of bundles of stories. When we confide in friends about our troubles or our victories, we start with telling stories. I’ve given thousands of speeches, and by far the best way to give a speech is to start with a story about yourself. (You don’t usually forget these, so you get rolling comfortably). Then you connect that story to other stories about the topic at hand, and so on. Audiences like stories more so than a string of propositions or a list of facts. So make sure you put these facts and propositions into your stories.

But here’s the hard nut to crack. What if our stories are fully imaginary and have little to do with the real world? In fact, a few philosophers today tell us there is no ‘real’ world,’ that we only have our ‘lifeworlds’ that are comprised of our stories, and who is to say one lifeworld is superior to another? Wouldn’t that be tyrannical? (These people are called ‘postmodernists,’ and they posit a ‘post-truth world’, so now you have a decent idea of what these $10 words mean.)

Why is this a problem? Because it leaves your mind open to narratives and stories that make you feel good, that confirm what you and those close to you like to hear about yourselves, your family, your friends, your fellow church members, your country. But it also allows leave you open to anger and outrage over undermining stories that make you uncomfortable, and these thus become lies and ‘fake news.’ iT LEAVES YOU OPEN TO FASCISM.

The truth will make us free, Scripture tells us. But I’m also reminded of Jack Nicolson’s movie outburst, ‘The Truth? You can’t handle the truth!’

There is a real world, a multilayered universe of inorganic, organic, social and intellectual values that operate by laws and rules. Here I’m affirming a social reality, and we can find it, but sometimes the means of finding it are uncomfortable. I’m not a postmodernist, but a dialectical guy, asking pointed questions like Socrates did. If it stings a bit, good. That means you’ll remember it.

One tool I use these days is to ask some disgruntled people what seems a simple question, ‘Who is your neighbor?’ A few will immediately mention family or people on their block, but they quickly realize it’s far from a simple question.

It’s a profound one, and like Jack Nicholson said in the movie, many people can’t handle it. They know where it’s coming from. They’ve heard it for years. It’s the question a snarky lawyer tossed at Jesus to trip Him up. Jesus answers with a story too, a story about a Samaritan, a group of people despised by Jews back then. It’s perhaps the deepest story in the entire New Testament, one that applies to all faiths and people of no faith, well worth reading again. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parable_of_the_Good_Samaritan