By Peter Wilbur
Edited by Natalie Herr
In the wake of the Charlottesville violence and subsequent actions and debate surrounding Confederate monuments, millions of Americans are learning of experienced activist groups whom most have rarely heard of or encountered before. At the same time, these groups are now interacting with a cadre of brand-new activists drawn to the internet--and the streets--in response to Trump's ascendence. Inevitably, mischaracterization and misunderstanding have ensued, so I think it worthwhile at this critical juncture to unpack some mythology about anti-fascists and to offer a few suggestions as we move forward through this dark era in our nation's history.
Edited by Natalie Herr
In the wake of the Charlottesville violence and subsequent actions and debate surrounding Confederate monuments, millions of Americans are learning of experienced activist groups whom most have rarely heard of or encountered before. At the same time, these groups are now interacting with a cadre of brand-new activists drawn to the internet--and the streets--in response to Trump's ascendence. Inevitably, mischaracterization and misunderstanding have ensued, so I think it worthwhile at this critical juncture to unpack some mythology about anti-fascists and to offer a few suggestions as we move forward through this dark era in our nation's history.
Let's be clear: the president is not the only person drawing false equivalencies between neo-Nazis and far-left activists. Even the New York Times engaged in a bit of it in a recent piece about leftists that relied heavily on anecdote, and opened with a discussion of violence, a very real concern, but was possibly not as researched or nuanced as it could have been. Media reports during and after Charlottesville reported "skirmishes" that originated from both sides. And while a crowd or movement can never be judged in totality, it is generally true that anti-fascists resort to violence only when attacked themselves. We shall return to the generations-old question of self defense vs. non-violent resistance later, but it is crucial to set the record straight: the neo-Nazis initiated the violence, and in fact had assembled for violent ends.
I am now going to draw from an interview with Dartmouth professor Mark Bray, an expert on anti-fascists who was interviewed recently by Virginia Heffernan on the must-listen Trumpcast. Bray presents a portrait of a group whose ends are much more broad-ranging than many people realize. Someone has to be tracking all of these hate groups, right? The Southern Poverty Law Center? Yes, but most of this work is done by average citizens who painstakingly follow odious far-right web sites and chat groups and who attempt to alert the authorities to dangerous gatherings before they take place. When this fails, they organize and show up to bear witness to and resist gatherings of hate. TV viewers may see anti-fascist activists as just another bunch of violent, disorganized young people, but in fact they are drawn from a diverse set of the population and they train for their actions. If you came of age in a big city in the 80s or 90s, you are probably at least dimly aware of the overlap between anti-fascists and punk rock. I grew up in Washington, D.C., where the threat from Nazi punks was very real on the streets. Shows often became violent melees, and the scene became highly politicized.
There is plenty of overlap between those fighting fascism and those fighting other leftist causes, such as the environment and workers' rights. As such, many anti-fascist adherents question the underlying assumptions of our capitalist order as inherently racist and classist. For many of these people, Trump is no aberration to the political scene who represents some new and different danger. Rather, Trump is simply an inevitable expression of the latent hostility towards marginalized people that is baked into the system itself. Meanwhile, the average new resister is typically a mainline Democrat who was shocked, or "woke" to action by the election of the grabber-in-chief. Most of these folks would not be protesting or even paying much attention to politics if the 2016 presidential election had gone another way. We see the differences playing out painfully online, within the Democratic party (Bernie “purists” vs. moderates who call for “unity”), and at recent vigils and protests. The leaders of new activist groups are now having to confront much more militant activists who want to address much more than Civil War statues. These conversations are uncomfortable to many, as even on the left we have a difficult time owning up to our privilege, and yes, our racism.
What galls many of us about Donald Trump (and the North Carolina legislature) is that he holds himself above the law. Whether it's his tax returns, continued profit from hotels and golf courses, hiring his cronies and family members, firing James Comey, or disparaging the free press, the Donald lays waste to the very institutions that form the bedrock of liberal belief. Therefore, it gives many of us great pause to consider illegal and violent counter-actions such as spray painting or toppling offensive statues, or fighting back against neo-Nazis in the streets. If we don't have law, what do we have, the argument goes? Doesn't the example of Martin Luther King, Jr. teach us that non-violence is always preferable? Yes and no. For starters, non-violence does not mean passive resistance, and in fact, relies as much on direct actions of civil disobedience, as it does on rallies and more traditional advocacy work. The history of the civil rights struggle is old and complex, and cannot be reduced to a few decontextualized quotes or memes. The dialectic between accommodation and resistance, from integration to self-reliance within the black community and among white allies is far from settled. Our nation began as a violent revolt against a regime of colonizers. Of course, the fact that millions were in bondage was conveniently left out of the founding story and resultant documents that began our nation.
As we face a rising tide of nationalism, racism, sexism, homophobia, Islamophobia, and anti-Semitism, we are bound to see more violence. The genie of paramilitary militias marching in formation in broad daylight through the otherwise sleepy streets of Charlottesville will not be stuffed back in the bottle with a few counter protests. Boston was a huge success, but what will happen in small towns across the South? Defenders of so-called white supremacy are not going to stand idly by while every statue is taken down. This is why it is crucial that new activists do their best to seek out anti-fascist leaders to dialogue with and learn from. These folks have been at this stuff for a while, and they will keep showing up at rallies involving fascists. Members of our movement should refrain from overt critiques of vandalism and violence. We may believe in our ideas to the core of our beings, but public expressions of such sentiments smack of privilege. It is easy for me, an educated, middle-aged, cis-gendered white male to preach peace, process, and patience from my comfortable and well-fed perch on a quiet street in a so-called “safe” neighborhood. If we truly believe in the values of inclusion and anti-racism, it is time to center some other voices that have not been heard from as much. Let’s pause for a moment, silence our assumptions and biases long enough to learn the names of these leaders, and listen for a while. What we hear may challenge us, surprise us, make us uncomfortable, and even force us to new ways of thinking.
Do we all need to become anarchists in order to have a voice or any measure of credibility? No, of course not. But, we should and must take a hard look at some of the assumptions that guide our thinking, and open up for inspection areas of our own personal bigotry. We should also shine a spotlight on aspects of our communities that are blatantly racist. Why are our public schools highly segregated in 2017? And why are the predominantly minority schools underperforming compared to the majority white schools? Why do we have levels of homelessness and infant mortality that put us on par with some developing nations? Why do we suffer race-based gerrymandering? Who can live on $7.25 an hour? What does it actually mean to have no health insurance? The causes of these societal ills are far deeper than the election of Donald Trump, and the solutions will take more work than posting on Facebook and attending a few rallies.
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