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Jackson was the first American political leader to recognize and incorporate into his movement my community of Arab Americans and our domestic and foreign policy concerns.
Rev. Jesse Jackson, who passed away last week, was a larger-than-life figure who made enormous and consequential contributions to American life. He registered millions of voters laying the groundwork for a substantial increase in the number of Black elected officials across the country. He also succeeded in pressing major corporations to increase economic opportunities for Black Americans thereby significantly increasing the Black middle class.
As part of the younger generation of Black leaders who had developed a global consciousness, his agenda moved beyond civil rights to make support for movements for social justice and liberation part of the mainstream of American politics. Because of this, he was the first American political leader to recognize and incorporate into his movement my community of Arab Americans and our domestic and foreign policy concerns.
I first began working with Rev. Jesse Jackson in the late 1970s. His staff approached me to discuss his plans for a visit to Palestine-Israel to see for himself the situation in the occupied lands. The injustices he witnessed left an indelible impression, leaving him committed to addressing the centrality of Palestinian rights to Middle East peace.
In 1979, when US Ambassador to the United Nations Andrew Young was removed from his post for speaking with the Palestine Liberation Organization’s United Nations representative, many Black leaders, Reverend Jackson included, were outraged. It wasn’t just that Andy Young had been a colleague in the civil rights movement. Jackson could not accept that the US had committed itself to a “no talk” policy with the Palestinian leaders.
In all the years I worked with Rev. Jackson, I witnessed not only his commitment to justice and courage in the face of challenges, but also the extent to which he recognized that his personal power could make a difference on the world stage.
He resolved to visit Beirut to meet directly with PLO chief Yasser Arafat and demonstrate that “a no talk policy is no policy at all.” Before leaving, he asked to address my Palestine Human Rights Campaign convention, taking place at that time. His presence and his remarks were electrifying and drew national and international media coverage.
In 1983 Rev. Jackson approached me at a dinner and asked me to leave what I was doing and join his campaign for president. When I replied, “I’ve been organizing my community of Arab Americans for the last four years and I’m not sure I can leave what I’m doing,” he said, “You will do more for your community in the next four months than you’ve done in the last four years.” He was right.
Up until that point, Arab Americans had never been welcomed in American politics as an ethnic constituency, mainly because of our support for Palestinian human rights. Candidates had rejected our contributions and endorsements. No campaign had ever included an Arab American committee. And no candidate had raised the issues about which our community cared deeply.
Rev. Jackson changed all that, and the response from Arab Americans was overwhelming. In fact, we were so moved by that 1984 campaign, that we launched the Arab American Institute to focus on lessons we’d learned: increasing voter registration, encouraging candidate engagement, and the importance of bringing our concerns into the electoral arena.
Because Rev. Jackson had made it possible to speak about Palestine, we built coalitions around the issue during the 1988 presidential campaign. We elected a record number of delegates across the country, and built coalitions with Black, Latino, progressive Jewish delegates, and others. We passed resolutions supporting Palestinian rights in 10 state Democratic conventions. And at the national convention in Atlanta, we’d earned enough delegates to call for a minority plank on Palestinian rights.
There had never been a discussion about Palestine at a Democratic convention. In negotiations with the presumptive winner Michael Dukakis’s campaign, they were adamant that the issue would not be raised. In fact, Madeleine Albright, representing the Dukakis people, said if the “P word” was even mentioned at the convention, “all hell would break loose.” I told them not to play “chicken little” with us and insisted that the issue be discussed. Rev. Jackson asked me to present our plank from the podium of the convention and I did. It was a heady experience to be able to address the National Convention calling for “mutual recognition, territorial compromise, and self-determination for both Israelis and Palestinians.” My speech was preceded by a floor demonstration of more than 1000 delegates carrying signs calling for Israeli-Palestinian peace and a two-state solution and waving Palestinian flags. It was the first (and unfortunately, the last) time that that issue was raised at a party convention.
The backlash was intense. While Rev. Jackson had secured a position for me on the Democratic National Committee, party leaders told me I should withdraw because my presence would make me a target for Republicans and for some Jewish Democrats, who would use an Arab American in a DNC leadership role to attack Dukakis. Incoming Party Chair Ron Brown thought it best that I withdraw but promised to make it up to us. And he did. He became the first party chair to host Arab Americans at party headquarters, to meet with Arab American Democrats around the country, and to address our national conventions. A few years into his term, he appointed me to fill a vacancy on the DNC where I’ve been ever since.
In 1994 in the months after Oslo Accords signing, Rev. Jackson accepted an invitation to be keynote speaker at an international peace conference the Palestinians were convening in Jerusalem. Once there, the Israelis said that we could not meet in Jerusalem or hold a political meeting with Palestinians. Rev. Jackson was determined to go forward. We spoke with Prime Minister Yitzak Rabin and Foreign Minister Shimon Perez urging them to allow the event to go forward. Even though they were unrelenting, Jackson convened the meeting and then announced that we’d march from the hotel to the Orient House, the Jerusalem headquarters of the Palestinians. The Israeli military surrounded the hotel and told us we could not leave.
True to form, Rev. Jackson announced that we’d march anyway and so we left the hotel walking through the lines of Israeli soldiers. To be honest, I was frightened, but what happened surprised us. Because of the power of his personality and his work, Jackson’s presence was formidable on the world stage. Once the Israelis soldiers saw him leading this peaceful march right up to their blockade, they parted and not only allowed him through, but many gathered around, wanting to touch or shake his hand, asking to have their pictures taken with him. The Israeli commanders were furious and continued barking orders to their troops to back away. The soldiers ignored them. We marched to Orient House and had our meeting.
In all the years I worked with Rev. Jackson, I witnessed not only his commitment to justice and courage in the face of challenges, but also the extent to which he recognized that his personal power could make a difference on the world stage. He freed prisoners. He opened doors to negotiations. He gave hope to the hopeless and voice to the voiceless. He also challenged the Democratic Party to be principled and consistent in its commitment to human rights and justice. He will be missed, but his legacy lives on in the progressive movement for domestic and foreign policy change that he helped shape.
Jackson's "rainbow coalition" helped open the doors for Blacks, Hispanics, Arab and Muslim Americans, and the LGBTQ community while sharing a powerful populist economic message at the height of Reaganism.
It would be hard to overstate Jesse Jackson’s importance in opening up American politics and society, not just to Black Americans, but also to Hispanics, and the LGTBQ community. It is probably difficult for younger people to imagine, and even old-timers like myself to remember, how bad discrimination was in the not very distant past.
When Jackson ran the first time in 1984, and even the second time in 1988, there was not a single Black governor in the United States. There had been no Black governors since the end of Reconstruction. There were also no Black senators.
The only Black person to serve in the Senate since Reconstruction was a Republican, Edward Brooke, who was elected in Massachusetts. When Carol Mosley Braun got elected to the Senate from Illinois in 1992, it was widely noted that she was first Black women to be elected to the Senate. She was also the first Black Democrat to be elected to the Senate.
It wasn’t just in politics; Blacks were largely excluded from the top reaches in most areas. I recall when I was a grad student at the University of Michigan in the 1980s. There we just two Black tenured professors in the whole university. There was a similar story in corporate America.
This was a period of serious upward redistribution and the losers, as in most people, were not happy campers. Jackson spoke to those people.
Jackson’s campaign didn’t turn things around by itself, but it certainly helped to spur momentum for larger changes. Back then people seriously debated whether a Black person could be elected president in the United States. Jackson’s campaign raised that question in a very serious way.
Barack Obama (the second Black Democrat to be elected to the Senate) answered that question definitively two decades later. While President Obama is obviously an enormously talented politician, without Jackson’s campaigns it is hard to envision Obama ever having been a serious presidential contender.
And Jackson was serious about a “rainbow coalition.” He also helped open the door for Hispanics, for Arab and Muslim Americans, and for the LGBTQ community. At a time when there were no openly gay or lesbian members of Congress, and even liberals were afraid to be associated with anyone who was openly gay, Jackson stood out in offering a welcome mat.
Jackson also pushed a powerful economic message. At a time when Ronald Reagan was busy cutting taxes for the rich and cutting back social programs, and trade was devastating large parts of the industrial Midwest, Jackson was advocating a populist agenda that focused on building up the poor and the working class. His message resonated with many white workers who felt abandoned by the mainstream of the Democratic Party, and even many farmers who were devastated by over-valued dollar in the early and mid-1980s.
There is a bizarre revisionism that has gained currency among people who pass for intellectuals that says the baby boomers grew up in Golden Age in the 1970s and 1980s. The unemployment rate averaged over 7% from 1974 to 1992. The median wage actually fell from 1973 to the mid-1990s. This was a period of serious upward redistribution and the losers, as in most people, were not happy campers. Jackson spoke to those people.
I had the opportunity to work in Jackson’s campaign in Michigan in 1988, and I still remember it as one of the high points of my life. Even though Jackson had vastly outperformed anyone’s expectations in the early primaries (probably even his own), he was not taken seriously in the Michigan race. Most of the pundits considered it a race between the frontrunner Michael Dukakis and Congressman Dick Gephardt, who had strong union support. As it turned out Jackson handily beat both, getting an absolute majority of the votes cast in the state.
In my own congressional district, which centered on Ann Arbor, all the party leaders lined up for Dukakis. The Jackson campaign was composed of a number of people who worked in less prestigious jobs, like salesclerks and custodians, and grad students like me. It really was a multiracial coalition.
We managed to totally outwork the party hacks. First, because it was a caucus and not a primary, it meant that people would not go to their regular precincts to cast their votes. We made sure that our supporters had a neatly coded map that told them where their voting site was.
Also, since it was a caucus and not a primary, the state’s usual rules on being registered 30 days ahead of an election did not apply. We had a deputy registrar at every voting site who would register people who had not previously registered.
We also made a point of having all our workers knocking on doors on election day and offering to drive people to the polls who needed a ride. The Dukakis people were all standing around the voting sites, handing out literature with their big Dukakis buttons, apparently not realizing that anyone who showed up had already decided how to vote.
I remember talking to a reporter late that night after the size of Jackson’s victory became clear. Up until that point, there had been numerous pieces in the media asking, “What does Jesse Jackson really want?” as though the idea that a Black person wanting to be president was absurd on its face.
I couldn’t resist having a little fun. I pointed out that with his big victory in Michigan, Jackson was now ahead in both votes cast and delegates. I said that I think we have to start asking what Michael Dukakis really wants.
Anyhow, the high didn’t last. The party closed ranks behind Dukakis, and he won the nomination. He then lost decisively to George Bush in the fall. His margin of defeat was larger than in any election since then.
All the gains of the last four decades are now on the line, as Donald Trump and his white supremacist gang look to turn back the clock. We have the battle of our lives on our hands right now.
But Jesse Jackson was a huge player in the changes that created the America that Donald Trump wants to destroy. He had serious flaws, like any great political leader, but for now we should remember the enormous impact he had in making this a better country.
"His unwavering belief in justice, equality, and love uplifted millions, and we ask you to honor his memory by continuing the fight for the values he lived by," said Jackson's family.
Rev. Jesse Jackson, a renowned civil rights activist and two-time US presidential candidate who pushed for a multiracial movement united around the common fight for economic justice, has died at the age of 84, his family announced in a statement on Tuesday.
"Our father was a servant leader—not only to our family, but to the oppressed, the voiceless, and the overlooked around the world," said Jackson's family. "We shared him with the world, and in return, the world became part of our extended family. His unwavering belief in justice, equality, and love uplifted millions, and we ask you to honor his memory by continuing the fight for the values he lived by."
The family's statement does not specify a cause of death, saying Jackson "died peacefully" on Tuesday morning. Jackson was formally diagnosed with progressive supranuclear palsy last year after managing the condition for more than a decade.
After taking part in and organizing sit-ins and other civil rights actions as a university student, Jackson worked alongside Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. at the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) and was later elevated to national director of SCLC's economic arm, Operation Breadbasket.
Jackson ran unsuccessfully for the Democratic presidential nomination in 1984 and 1988, amassing more than 10 million votes across both campaigns—making him, up to that time, the most successful Black presidential candidate in US history.
In his 1984 speech at the Democratic National Convention, Jackson made the case for a "Rainbow Coalition" organized around a common mission: "to feed the hungry; to clothe the naked; to house the homeless; to teach the illiterate; to provide jobs for the jobless; and to choose the human race over the nuclear race."
"We must leave racial battleground and come to economic common ground and moral higher ground," said Jackson. "America, our time has come. We come from disgrace to amazing grace."
We at the Fellowship of Reconciliation, where he worked for many years, are blessed to have counted the civil rights leader among our core team of organizers. It is with reverence that we remember his life and time with us.
Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. called him “the leading theorist and strategist of nonviolence in the world.” To Rep. John Lewis, he was “the architect of the nonviolence movement.” Jesse Jackson simply called him “the Teacher.” We at the Fellowship of Reconciliation are blessed to have counted him among our core team of organizers. It is with reverence that we remember his life and time with us.
Rev. James M. Lawson, Jr., who died Sunday at age 95, was born in Uniontown, Pennsylvania, and moved with his family to Massillon, Ohio, shortly after. As part of a deeply Christian family, James began regularly reading the bible and developed a prophetic and liberatory interpretation of the gospels at an early age. In a 2014 interview published by Fellowship magazine, Lawson told Diane Lefer, “By the end of my high school years, I came to recognize that that whole business – walk the second mile, turn the other cheek, pray for the enemy, see the enemy as a fellow human being – was a resistance movement. It was not an acquiescent affair or a passive affair. I saw it as a place where my own life grew in strength inwardly, and where I had actually seen people changed because I responded with the other cheek. I went the second mile with them.”
While attending Baldwin-Wallace College, Lawson met A.J. Muste, the Fellowship of Reconciliation’s executive secretary, a renowned pacifist and nonviolent direct action strategist. Deeply inspired, Lawson immediately joined the FOR. Graduating college in 1950, as the Cold War grew, Lawson determined that he would refuse the military draft. Instead of Korea, he was sent to prison, where he served 13 months.
In 1953, Lawson accepted an offer from Hislop College in Nagpur, India, to teach and coach athletics, giving him the opportunity to, like FOR members Howard Thurman and Bayard Rustin had done before him, explore the connections between the Indian self-determination movement and the African-American freedom struggle. Lawson spent the next three years on the subcontinent studying Gandhi’s life and the Satyagraha movement. “I combined the methodological analysis of Gandhi with the teachings of Jesus, who concludes that there are no human beings that you can exclude from the grace of God,” Lawson described to Lefer.
Lawson was completing a graduate degree at the Oberlin School of Theology when Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., while visiting the campus, recruited him. King insisted to Lawson that his expertise was needed, not eventually, but immediately! “I mentioned to [King] that while in college I had long wanted to work in the South – especially because of segregation – as a place of work, and that I wanted to do that still,” Lawson told Fellowship magazine editor Richard Deats in 1999. “His response was: ‘Come now! Don’t wait! Don’t put it off too long. We need you NOW!”
When Lawson told A.J. Muste of his decision to move South, Muste quickly offered him a position as FOR’s Southern Field Secretary. Basing himself initially in Nashville, Lawson began working throughout the South, initially with FOR and then the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC). He focused especially on recruiting and training a generation of nonviolent direct-action activists. Those young people then launched the sit-ins and Freedom Rides and founded the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC).
In 1965, while representing SCLC on an International FOR delegation to Vietnam, Lawson met Thich Nhat Hanh. This encounter significantly affected Lawson, inspiring him to facilitate a meeting between the Buddhist monk and Dr. King, and ultimately led to King’s dramatic public stance against the U.S. war in Vietnam. Lawson’s profound assessment of U.S. militarism and what he called “plantation capitalism” shaped not only the interweaving of the 1960s civil rights and anti-war struggles but ultimately how our intersectional social movements are shaped today.
In 1974, in Los Angeles, Lawson continued his solidarity with impoverished low-wage workers. He founded Clergy and Laity United for Economic Justice to enlist faith communities in this struggle and pushed direct action campaigns for which he was arrested “more [times] than [during] all his work in the South.”
Lawson spent his last decades both working within peace circles while offering critiques that their movements devoted too much of their focus outside U.S. borders. He believed that true change could only come from within. “Only by engaging in domestic issues and molding a domestic coalition for justice can we confront the militarization of our land,” he argued to Lefer in 2014. “We must confront that here – not over there.”
Whether prophetically interpreting the scriptures, challenging America’s original sin with the fierce power of nonviolent direct action, or strategically connecting with other monumental peace leaders, Lawson’s commitment to social justice was relentless and unwavering. We at the Fellowship of Reconciliation are blessed to have worked with and been mentored by him. As we continue to confront the injustices of our times, we know that Lawson’s spirit is walking beside us.
U.S. Sen. Bernie Sanders rallied with Jonathan Jackson and Delia Ramirez, a pair of progressive congressional candidates, in Chicago on Saturday.
"We desperately need more leaders in the Congress who understand the need to stand up and fight against the corporate greed that is running rampant in this country."
"We desperately need more leaders in the Congress who understand the need to stand up and fight against the corporate greed that is running rampant in this country," said Sanders (I-Vt.), arguing that Jackson and Ramirez "are those leaders."
"I was proud to have Jonathan Jackson as my state co-chair in 2020 and I'm proud to endorse Jonathan Jackson for Illinois' 1st Congressional District," the two-time presidential candidate previously said in a statement. "He has long been a fighter for working people and he will be a champion for Medicare for All and a Green New Deal in the Congress."
Jackson--the son of the Rev. Jesse Jackson--is among several Democrats running in a district that has been represented for decades by retiring Democratic Congressman Bobby Rush.
In Sanders' endorsement of Ramirez, a Democratic candidate for the state's 3rd Congressional District, he highlighted her work in the Illinois House of Representatives.
"Ramirez has been a champion of working families in Illinois," he said. "As a state legislator, she has expanded Medicaid for all seniors regardless of legal status, has secured millions of dollars for affordable housing, and defended reproductive rights by codifying Roe v. Wade in Illinois."
As the Chicago Tribune reported Saturday:
Sanders told the crowd that Ramirez and Jackson both understand what is "profoundly wrong" in the nation and what needs to be addressed, such as affordable healthcare, a "livable wage more than 15 bucks an hour," tuition-free higher education, and working to ensure oil companies aren't allowed to absorb massive profits while motorists are forced to pay $5 to $6 per gallon for gas.
He said inflation, climate change, the war in Ukraine, and more have all created a "pivotal moment in American history."
"Now is the time to take on all those demagogues out there who are trying to divide working [families] based on the color of our skin or where we were born or our sexual orientation," he said. "Now is the time to stand together."
"Chicago now has the opportunity to send two great, progressive fighters to Washington in Delia and in Jonathan," Sanders said. "Let's make sure that happens."
The newspaper noted that Democratic Congressman Jesus "Chuy" Garcia, who represents Illinois' 4th District, has also endorsed both candidates and spoke at the rally on Saturday.
"As we build our muscle and our power in Congress, that's how we redefine who will run this country," he said. "It won't be the billionaires. It won't be the corporations. It will be the working people and young people and students and our future intellectuals. That's who will run this country."
Early voting is already underway in Illinois for the primary on June 28.
The rally capped off Sanders' short tour of the Midwest, which included a rally against corproate greed along with a speech at a labor conference in Illinois as well as meeting with striking union workers in Racine, Wisconsin, and Burlington, Iowa.
Vive la France. In Europe and the U.S., Emmanuel Macron's victory in the French presidential elections elicited a huge sigh of relief. His victory margin, a 17-point defeat of the right-wing challenger Marine Le Pen, surprised most observers.
The parallels with the U.S. political situation are striking. In both countries, the economy no longer works for working people.
Recognizing the stakes, President Joe Biden congratulated Macron on his victory, tweeting that there would be "continued close cooperation, including on supporting Ukraine, defending democracy, and countering climate change."
Contributing to Macron's victory was his relative success in handling COVID-19 and accelerating economic and jobs growth. His basic decency contrasted sharply with his opponent. He was aided by voters to his left who, as the paper Liberation wrote, demonstrated their "political maturity," and voted against Le Pen, despite "sometimes holding their noses." Polls suggested that over 40% of Macron's vote came from those voting to block the threat posed by Le Pen.
Despite the victory, the danger signs are apparent. Over a fourth of voters abstained, an abnormally high percentage for France. Le Pen apparently won a majority of working class voters who have suffered greatly from de-industrialization and declining prospects in an economy of greater and greater inequality.
The parallels with the U.S. political situation are striking. In both countries, the economy no longer works for working people. In both, inequality has soared, while good jobs have been shipped abroad. In both, demagogic politicians peddle an ugly right-wing fake populism. Centrist leaders like Macron and Biden offer decency and defend democracy, but in the end, democracy will thrive only if it serves the welfare of the vast majority.
As in the U.S., labor unions and progressive groups in France are pushing Macron to address France's divide, urging him to focus on making the economy work for working people. Macron's people, like Biden's, say they got the message. Bruno Le Maire, the French finance minister, was quoted as saying, "We can't forget the message they sent. We need to change our way of governing."
Macron is promising what is called a "purchasing power package," to increase pensions, raise social subsidies for families struggling with inflation and offer incentives to companies to lift wages. Whether he can move forward on this will depend on the results of the parliamentary elections in June.
Internationally, Macron's victory will consolidate the alliance that is opposing the Russian invasion of Ukraine. But here too, real challenges remain. Efforts to stop the war must intensify as casualties mount. And popular support will surely flag unless the economic dislocations--particularly the rising prices of fuel and food--are handled successfully.
A centerpiece of Macron's agenda is concern about climate change. Ukraine has pushed that existential threat off the front pages, even as scientists have issued new warnings and calls for action. Hopefully, as Biden suggests, Macron can join in helping to launch a new push on this real security threat.
Politicians for both parties loudly praise the courage of Ukrainians defending their democracy from the Russian invasion. Yet, bipartisan defense of democracy disappears when the question is democracy at home. Mar. 7 marked the 57th anniversary of "Bloody Sunday" in 1965, when the police attack of a peaceful march of Blacks seeking the right to vote in Selma, Alabama, stirred the outrage that led to passage of the Voting Rights Act.
At stake is the direction of the country. Republicans have voted against raising the minimum wage, paid family leave, support for families with children, affordable day care, affordable prescription drugs, and fair taxes on the rich.
Today the right to vote is once more in question.
We witness the second great drive to suppress voting in American history. The first came after the Civil War, when the constitutional amendment to free the slaves and guarantee the right to vote to African Americans sparked a vicious reaction across the South to enforce segregation and suppress the right to vote.
Today, Republican politicians are making it harder to vote, particularly for those in urban areas, on Native American reservations and on college campuses. In July 2021, the Brennan Center reported that lawmakers had introduced at least 389 restrictive bills in 48 states in the 2021 legislative sessions, while 17 states enacted 28 new laws that restrict voting access.
Partisan gerrymandering has been given a free pass by right-wing judges on the Supreme Court. Worse, election officials are under assault. One in six have received threats of violence; one in three say they feel unsafe. As President Joe Biden declared, "We're facing the most significant test of our democracy since the Civil War."
The reason for the assault is clear. After 2020, Republicans know that they are the minority and their prospects are getting worse with younger, more diverse voters. In the last presidential election, Donald Trump captured a stunning 74 million votes, but Joe Biden won 81 million.
When the House of Representatives took up legislation to revive the Voting Rights Act, what used to enjoy bipartisan support was passed, but with a partisan divide. Similarly, when the Senate considered the For the People Act to create federal safeguards on voting rights, limit the role of secret money in politics and rein in gerrymandering, Republican Sen. Mike Lee of Utah described it as a bill "written in Hell by the Devil himself." Republicans used a filibuster to block passage of both bills.
The anniversary of Selma reminds us of how democracy is defended. Southern senators blocked any reforms at the federal level for years. In the states, police and organized terror enforced the suppression of Black votes.
African Americans won the right to vote because we and our allies marched for it, demonstrated for it, were beaten and died to gain it. And finally, after Selma, people of conscience demanded that the country live up to its Constitution and its democratic ideals. That is when President Lyndon Johnson could overcome the filibuster and pass the Voting Rights Act.
If the new voter suppression effort is to be overcome, it won't come from the White House or Congress. The Justice Department will do its best, but will face obstruction from right-wing judges. In states controlled by Republicans, the onslaught is brazen and clear.
What is needed now is massive, unrelenting, passionate organizing to register people to vote and to get them to the polls. Mobilized people won't be intimidated. With organization, the tricks and traps passed to suppress the vote can be overcome. Workers will have to sacrifice if early voting hours are restricted. Urban voters will have to put up with long lines, since polling sites are being eliminated. Mail-in ballots will face more obstacles. College students may need to organize the ID needed to qualify to vote on their campuses.
At stake is the direction of the country. Republicans have voted against raising the minimum wage, paid family leave, support for families with children, affordable day care, affordable prescription drugs, and fair taxes on the rich. They oppose action on catastrophic climate change. They vote against reproductive choice, civil rights, environmental and worker protections. They oppose tuition-free college and student debt relief.
All of these are supported by the vast majority of Americans. So, Republicans try to make voting harder.
We don't have to risk the bullets of the Ku Klux Klan or the billy clubs of Southern sheriffs as the marchers of Selma faced. We do have to organize to make our voices heard and our votes cast and counted. Historically, the core of the reform majority--African Americans, Hispanics, single women, the young--turn out in smaller numbers in off-year elections.
We can't afford that this year. At stake is literally what kind of country we will live in.
An attorney for one of the three men accused of murdering unarmed Black runner Ahmaud Arbery in Brunswick, Georgia last year raised eyebrows and ire Thursday after asking the presiding judge in the case to exclude Black faith leaders from the courtroom because he believes their presence is "political" and could sway the nearly all-white jury.
"Asking a judge to bar me or any minister of the family's choice underscores the disregard for the value of the human life lost and the grieving of a family in need of spiritual and community support."
Kevin Gough, the defense attorney for William "Roddie" Bryan--who recorded cellphone video of the February 23, 2020 pickup truck chase and fatal shooting of the 25-year-old Black jogger--unsuccessfully argued that the presence of well-known Black clergy including Revs. Al Sharpton, Jesse Jackson, and William Barber II would be "intimidating" to jurors.
"If we're... going to bring high-profile members of the African-American community into the courtroom to sit with the family during the trial in the presence of the jury I believe intimidating, that's an attempt to pressure... or influence the jury," Gough argued.
"There's only so many pastors they can have," he continued. "If their pastor is Al Sharpton right now that's fine, but that's it."
"We don't want any more Black pastors in here," Gough added as members of the defendants' legal team visibly expressed shock and disdain.
Gough, referring to the founder and marketing mascot of the fast-food chain Kentucky Fried Chicken, curiously added that "if a bunch of folks came in here dressed like Colonel Sanders with white masks sitting in the back," before trailing off.
Flatly denying Gough's request, Judge Timothy Walmsley said, "I'm not going to start blanketly excluding members of the public from this courtroom."
Sharpton, who was invited by Arbery's parents and who has called his killing a "lynching," issued a statement accusing Gough of "insulting the family of the victim" and "pouring salt into their wounds."
"The arrogant insensitivity of attorney Kevin Gough in asking a judge to bar me or any minister of the family's choice underscores the disregard for the value of the human life lost and the grieving of a family in need of spiritual and community support," he said.
Barbara Arnwine, founder of the Transformative Justice Coalition, said outside the Brunswick courthouse that Gough's request are part of a pattern of "race-baiting" and "fearmongering," and that the attorney "ought to be ashamed of himself."
Just say no. That seems to sum up the position of Republicans in the Congress these days. For all the talk about bipartisan compromise or about the two parties working together, at the end of the day, the Republican position is simply to say no.
The scope of what they won't do is breathtaking.
They say no to expanding support for day care, vital in an economy where both parents must work. They say no to investing in renewable energy and electric cars. They say no to renovating America's decrepit and outmoded infrastructure, including clean and safe drinking water. They say no to democracy reforms and ending secret money in politics. They just say no.
It doesn't matter if the reform is essential to human life and to equal justice under the law.
It doesn't matter how popular the issue is. Most Americans want sensible gun control laws. According to the Pew Research Center, 70% of Republicans support background checks for all sales of guns, including those at gun shows. When it comes to passing the reforms, Republicans in both Houses just say no.
It doesn't matter if it is simply about basic fairness. Fifty-five of America's biggest corporations paid no federal income taxes last year and the wealth of just 650 billionaires rose by 50%, all while millions of working Americans suffered. Two-thirds of Americans support raising taxes on those making more than $400,000 a year, as Joe Biden has proposed. Republicans in both Houses reject any tax increase on corporations or the wealthy, including the 82% benefit that went to the top 1% and 63% that went to the top one-tenth of 1% of Trump's only major legislative accomplishment in 2017.
It doesn't matter if the reform is about meeting a threat to our existence. Catastrophic climate change already takes lives and costs this country billions of dollars each year--and it gets worse annually. Scientists give us about 10 years to make the transition to renewable energy. Joe Biden has proposed a modest investment in renewable energy, electric cars and retrofitting homes. His proposal is far less than scientists say is needed, far less even from what he promised during his campaign. He's already compromised in the face of expected Republican opposition. But Republicans just say no.
It doesn't matter if the reform is essential to human life and to equal justice under the law. Most Americans support police reform, including a federal ban on chokeholds (71%), a prohibition of racial profiling (71%), and an end to "qualified immunity" for officers in legal cases (59%). For decades and currently Congress hasn't been able to pass an anti-lynching law. Efforts to pass reforms meet with--no surprise now--almost universal Republican opposition.
It doesn't even matter if the measure is a bipartisan bill to have an independent bipartisan commission investigate sacking the Capitol and the attempt to stop certification of the 2020 presidential election on Jan. 6. Even though their lives and limbs were at risk, Senate Republicans lined up in support of a filibuster to just say no.
Republicans use efforts to find common ground to stall progress before lining up to say no. They make big gestures that turn out on inspection just to be jive. For example, the biggest "bipartisan" negotiations are over Joe Biden's Americans Jobs Bill, which Republicans oppose. Biden called for $2.3 trillion over eight years to invest in rebuilding America, kickstarting the transition to sustainable energy, and ensuring quality affordable day care, essential if parents are to go back to work. In April, Republicans offered a laughable $568 billion over five years, stripping virtually everything but roads and bridges from their proposal (and most of that was already in the budget).
Biden compromised, cutting $552 billion out of his proposal. Republicans got headlines for going up to $953 billion--only that was a feint. As the analysis of the invaluable Congressional Progressive Caucus Action Fund showed, the second Republican offer was spread out over eight years. And they proposed to pay for most of that by taking funds previously appropriated to deal with the pandemic and its victims over the next years. In spending per year, the actual change in the second proposal over the first was just $2 billion a year. That isn't a good faith negotiation; that's a joke.
Republicans don't want corporations or the wealthy to pay more in taxes. They don't want to raise the minimum wage. They oppose reforms that would make it easier for workers to organize and bargain collectively. In 20 states, Republican governors are cutting off federal unemployment insurance, hoping to force people to take low-paying jobs. They don't want to revive the Voting Rights Act; they want to further suppress the vote. They don't want to limit the role of big money in elections or end gerrymandering of districts to their benefit. This list can go on.
Republicans celebrate the economy of 2018 under Donald Trump before the pandemic. Yet that was an economy in which 40% of Americans had negative net incomes, and were forced to borrow to pay for basic household needs. That was an economy that subsidized fossil fuels and ignored the threat posed by climate change. That was an economy that forced parents into debt to pay for day care, forced students into debt to pay for college, and forced Americans to pay the highest prices in the world for prescription drugs, even those that were created on the taxpayer's dime.
Of course, when they run for re-election, Republicans will take credit for Biden's American Rescue Plan that was passed without one Republican vote. No one should be fooled. At a time when America faces cascading crises, Republicans just say no. If we want even to begin to address the troubles we have, voters will have to say no to those who are standing in the way.
Memorial Day marks one year since the murder of George Floyd by the hands of the Minneapolis police. This week also marks the 100-year anniversary of the Tulsa Race Massacre, a brutal government-aided leveling of a prosperous African American community for which there still has been no accounting and no justice. Few even know about the massacre. It hasn't even been taught in the Tulsa public schools until this year. Although 100 years old, the massacre poses questions of justice and of decency that America cannot avoid.
After World War I, a neighborhood in Tulsa, Oklahoma, named Greenwood grew to be among the wealthiest Black communities in the country. Booker T. Washington called it the "Black Wall Street." Here were successful entrepreneurs, doctors, and lawyers who through hard work and good minds were building a prosperous Black community. The district was lined with Black-owned shops. restaurants, a 54-room grand hotel and the Dreamland Theater. It supported two newspapers and a hospital.
No one was held responsible for the deaths and injuries, or the millions in property losses.
Then on the day after Memorial Day, a white mob gathered to lynch a young Black 19-year-old who had startled a 17-year-old white girl, an elevator operator, in an elevator. Rumors inflated the incident into an alleged rape. Black veterans of World War I rushed to the jail to try to protect the young man from the mob. A shot was fired, and the enraged white mob chased blacks back into Greenwood.
Then the massacre began. The police and National Guard joined the mob rather than enforce the peace. Planes circled overhead to drop turpentine bombs on homes and businesses. As Rev. Robert Turner, pastor of the historic Vernon African Methodist Episcopal Church that was torched in the massacre, notes, "The first time in American history that airplanes were used to terrorize America was not in 9/11, was not at Pearl Harbor, it was right here in the Greenwood District."
The 2001 report of the Oklahoma Commission to Study the Race Riot of 1921, created by the state legislature, found that the city of Tulsa conspired to destroy Greenwood. According to the commission's report, the massacre destroyed some 40 square blocks. Nearly 10,000 people were left homeless as 1,256 homes were looted and burned down. So too was the thriving commercial district, including the Black hospital.
White hospitals turned away Greenwood's wounded. Many bled to death, including Greenwood's most prominent surgeon. The number of dead is estimated to be as many as 300, but went uncounted. Many were simply dumped in unmarked graves. Ten thousand African Americans were left homeless; some 6,000 were herded into internment camps for weeks. Government officials committed no public money to help Greenwood rebuild. Instead, they opposed any revival, even rejecting offers of assistance from outside of Tulsa.
No one was held responsible for the deaths and injuries, or the millions in property losses. Not one insurance company honored a claim by an African American. City and state officials covered up the crime for decades.
As Dreisen Heath, author of a Human Rights Watch report on the massacre summarized, "The Greenwood neighborhood in Tulsa was destroyed, but survivors of the massacre and their descendants are still suffering the consequences. Decades of Black prosperity and millions of dollars in hard-earned wealth were wiped out in hours, but nobody was ever held accountable, and no compensation was ever paid."
That history lives today. Tulsa is still one of the most segregated cities in the country. The current mayor acknowledges "the history of racial disparity that exists in our city. A kid that's growing up in the predominantly African American part of our city is expected to live 11 years less than a kid that's growing up in a whiter part of the city." Tulsa still suffers from discrimination, institutionalized in the police, zoning laws, housing policies and more.
One hundred years later, the African American community still seeks justice. Rev. Turner marches each week to the city council to demand repair, reparations for the damage done. The state-created commission called for reparations such as direct payments to "riot survivors and descendants," a scholarship fund and a memorial. The Human Rights Watch report on the massacre calls on the Tulsa and Oklahoma governments to provide reparations, including "direct payments to the few massacre victims still living and the descendants," efforts to recover remains from mass graves, and a "comprehensive reparations plan," including targeted investments in health, education and economic opportunities." A House subcommittee has opened an inquiry into what can be done.
The issue of reparations always meets with resistance. Why should this generation pay for the crimes of those who lived 100 years ago? Yet once the massacre is admitted, the violation done to people can't be simply ignored. And the damage incurred--erasing a prosperous Black community and enforcing racially discriminatory policies through the decades--is real.
The mark of history scars Tulsa today. There, and elsewhere in America, there needs to be a process that can officially recognize the injustice, act to repair the damages done, and bring us together, so that our society can continue to make its difficult way to an inclusive, and better America.