PARIS -- For a magic moment, the citizens' movement was no longer on the defensive.
From Seattle to Genoa, via Washington, Prague, Quebec, Nice and a dozen other
destinations, the dispiriting decades of unbridled corporate greed and freewheeling
financial markets seemed to be drawing to an ignominious close, smothered under
their own sheer awfulness. Or if such a perception was mere wishful thinking and
a bit premature, at least neoliberalism was under credible and forceful attack.
Negatively labeled "antiglobalization" by the media but known to its thousands
of participants and millions of sympathizers as the movement for global justice,
the nebula of protest and proposals was coalescing and gaining strength. The corporate
and political elites could no longer meet in plush peace and confidential quiet
to do their deals, and were obliged to retreat to fortresses whose defenses the
demonstrators regularly stormed both physically and ideologically. The winds of
history were blowing in a new and refreshing direction.
Then came September 11. Like the rest of the world, Europeans were shocked
and horrified, especially by the sheer scale of the destruction and the potent
symbolism of the targets, but in another and admittedly limited sense, we'd been
there before. We'd had bombs in our metros, terrorist attacks on our railways
and exploding cars in our streets, not to mention centuries of wars, invasions
and occupations.
As the initial trauma wore off, we also tried to analyze what precisely lay
behind the attacks and to ask political as well as moral questions. While everyone
agreed that nothing could justify the terrorist attacks on the United States,
some also recalled another September 11 when the American-sponsored coup d'état
in Chile brought down the democratically elected Allende government, ushering
in a fascist regime that murdered and "disappeared" thousands. American support
for the contras in Nicaragua; the training of Latin American torturers
in North America; the attacks against weak and defenseless countries like Panama,
Grenada and Sudan; the bombing and blockading of Iraq leaving civilians dead and
maimed but Saddam Hussein firmly in place--all these were remembered and discussed,
as was the crucial US role in the endlessly destructive Israel-Palestine war.
While the prestigious French daily Le Monde headlined "We Are All Americans,"
others felt that this assertion very much depended on "which" Americans. Yes,
without question, if it meant mourning for the victims and their families; no,
if it meant unqualified support for the corporate, financial and government elites,
and for business as usual.
Nor were we surprised when these same elites in Europe, our neoliberal corporate
adversaries and their domestics, instantly seized upon the atrocities to advance
their cause. By the morning of the 12th they had already sharpened their sticks.
Using crude, faulty but sometimes effective logic in an attempt to intimidate
and criminalize the citizens' movement, they declared, "You're antiglobalization,
therefore you're anti-American, therefore you're on the side of the terrorists."
For weeks, the media gleefully and unrelentingly framed their coverage and their
questions in that light alone.
So we've had to explain incessantly why such arguments are not just wrong but
pernicious, and we've refused them the pleasure of painting us into the villain's
corner they had reserved for us. We reject as well the "antiglobalization" label
and, in order to counter accusations of "anti-Americanism," stress our ties with
our American friends in the global justice movement. We've also continued to mobilize,
and on that score, it's gratifying to report that September 11 has had relatively
little long-term impact. Although virtually unreported in the mainstream press
and, alas, with zero effect on the negotiations themselves, the recent WTO ministerial
meeting in Doha, Qatar, brought far more people into the streets than had gathered
in Seattle. Decentralized demonstrations were organized in at least thirty countries,
including forty locations in France and twenty-five in Germany.
The demonstrations in Laeken at the end of the Belgian EU presidency in December
brought out tens of thousands, including a large number of trade unionists, with
almost no violence (one or two shattered bank windows). On January 19, ATTAC-France
(ATTAC is an acronym for the Association for the Taxation of Financial Transactions
to Aid Citizens, whose program now reaches well beyond the push for the so-called
Tobin Tax, the proposed small tax on international currency transactions) filled
to overflowing the largest rock concert hall in Paris for the kickoff of the upcoming
presidential and legislative election season. While we have no intention of becoming
a party, we do promise to harass all the candidates unmercifully around our issues.
Next month, ATTAC-Hungary will be launched, the fortieth country to join this
international movement. The CGIL, Italy's largest and most progressive trade union,
recently decided to become a "founding institutional member" of ATTAC-Italy. Kids
all over Europe asked their parents to give them the airfare to Porto Alegre for
Christmas so they could attend the historic international citizens' gathering
there January 31-February 5.
We know that for Americans, the backlash of the terrorist attacks has been
far more powerful and the aftermath more lingering. With flags flying on every
corner, the obligatory rallying around President George W. Bush no matter what
he decides, and a kind of suffocating and frequently phony patriotism dominating
the debate, it's clear that the pressure is considerable.
Allow me still to argue that it's time to pull ourselves together, pull up
our socks and pull together--take your pick of metaphors, but also take heart:
September 11 is not the end of the world. History may even be handing us a radically
new moment, one we did not choose but ours to seize. Our message is more relevant
today than it was on the eve of September 11.
The emotions the atrocities awakened in all the rich Western countries caused
me briefly to entertain the naïve hope that their leadership might finally
recognize the gravity of the situation and provide an appropriate response. I
should have known better. Those who hold our futures in their hands are not serious.
They see no farther than the noses of their bombers. Frightening though the prospect
may seem, citizens must accept the risk of being serious in their place.
What does "being serious" mean? For starters, recognizing what our leadership
refuses to admit: that terrorist nihilism is one response to poverty, despair
and hopelessness. I don't mean to imply that redistribution of resources and aid
programs, however well conceived, could have stopped bin Laden and his immediate
followers. They care nothing about the poverty of their own compatriots, but they
do know that terrorism thrives in the rich soil of exclusion and victimhood.
On September 10, half the world was already living, if one can call it that,
on less than $2 a day, with a fifth surviving on half of that. Thirty thousand
children were already dying needless deaths daily. Inequality is exploding both
within and among nations, and perhaps contrary to the poor of the nineteenth century,
today's poor know they are poor. The plausible fantasies of Western television
constantly remind them of their own failure to capture the material rewards of
modernity.
The only rational response to global problems is global solutions. "Foreign
direct investment," the panacea of the World Bank and the International Monetary
Fund, consists mostly of mergers and acquisitions that result in harmful economic
concentration and job losses, and in any case such investment flows to only a
dozen or so countries. The UN target of 0.7 percent of the wealthy countries'
GNP for development aid is never going to be met, and we should stop pretending
that it will be, because this particular pot of money is shrinking by some 5 percent
a year. What resources do exist are unaccompanied by control over the local elites,
who all too frequently use them for their own ends, a recipe for waste, corruption
and inefficiency. What's needed is to ratchet up our efforts to the international
level and launch a global Marshall Plan, financed by various international tax
instruments (including but not confined to Tobin-type taxes) and made conditional
on genuine civil society participation and rigorous auditing. Debt relief ought
to be a precondition of a properly functioning world system; otherwise the debtors
are competing on the "level playing field" the neoliberals never tire of extolling
with lead in their sneakers.
The cash is out there. It can be found not only by taxing financial transactions
but in tax havens where, as Bush himself has proven, it's possible to identify,
target and close down accounts belonging to anyone the United States identifies
as a terrorist--so why not the accounts of drug barons and traffickers in women,
children, endangered species and armaments? Thanks to these same cozy locations
in the Caribbean and other fiscal paradises, taxes on transnational corporations
are undermined while taxes on labor and consumption contribute far more than their
fair share.
"Free trade" as managed by the World Trade Organization and reinvigorated at
the recent negotiations in Doha is largely the freedom of the fox in the henhouse.
Despite the advance on generic drugs for pandemics like AIDS, tuberculosis and
malaria, the South's needs are shelved and the transnationals continue to run
the show according to their own preferred rules.
None of the profound changes we call for will, however, happen spontaneously,
and our present elites certainly don't want them. Clearly the shock of September
was not great enough to force them to change their minds and their behavior.
So, American friends, where does all this leave us? First of all, please bring
the United States back. We need you, the world needs you. Although people on every
continent are joining in this struggle, there are no guarantees we can win. Without
a strong US movement, in the bastion of corporate and financial-market-driven
globalization, we are in fact likely to fail.
I hope not to be misunderstood in saying that September 11 must not lead to
an unhealthy inwardness and self-preoccupation but to tough-minded analysis followed
by outward-looking action. The adversary hasn't changed since September 11. That
adversary is still "Davos" and everything Davos stands for, whether meeting in
the mountains or on the banks of the Hudson. Homo davosiensis wants all
the resources, all the wealth, all the power and all the freedom to extend his
ascendancy across time and space. This means that we too must be world-spanners
and history-inventors, right now. As we say in French, l'histoire ne repasse
pas les plats--"History doesn't offer second helpings"--so we'd better deal
with what's on our plate now, which is world poverty, inequality, exploitation
and hopelessness. How?
The great Chinese general Sun Tzu said 2,400 years ago, "Do not do what you
would most like to do. Do what your adversary would least like you to do." In
Porto Alegre, people from all over the world will be trying to determine what
the adversary least wants and how to deliver it. In New York, we hope you will
be supremely inconveniencing the Davos mob, denying it whatever it may want just
now and in future (one thing it does want is for violence to spoil the
proceedings and attract exclusive media attention, so watch out for agents
provocateurs).
Personally, I have not been so hopeful in decades. The mood is changing. People
no longer believe that the unjust world order is inevitable. To Margaret Thatcher's
TINA--"There is no alternative"--they are replying that there are thousands of
them. Now it's up to us all, especially to Americans, to prove that, as we say
in ATTAC, "Another world is possible." And urgent.
Susan George is associate director of the Transnational
Institute in Amsterdam and vice president of ATTAC-France.
Her most recent book in English is The Lugano Report (Pluto).
© 2002 The Nation Company, L.P.
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