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His clarifying insistence on truth telling will be sorely missed during a time when people are being threatened, demonized, and fired for telling American history’s multiple truths.
On Saturday, February 22, one of America’s great civil rights and labor activists was laid to rest in Greensboro, North Carolina. It’s possible you haven’t heard of Reverend Nelson Johnson, though Reverend Dr. William Barber II, the dynamic founder of Repairers of the Breach, the “co-anchor” of the new Poor People’s Campaign, and professor of the practice of public theology and public policy, places him (and his wife Joyce Johnson) in the rank of “Harriet Tubman and Frederick Douglass, Mother Jones and Martin Luther King Jr.” It’s salient in this moment, too, that the social, racial, and economic rifts that sparked the 1979 Greensboro Massacre and claimed the lives of five of Reverend Johnson’s fellow activists—scarring him for life—continue to divide our country today.
His clarifying insistence on truth telling will be sorely missed during a time when people are being threatened, demonized, and fired for telling American history’s multiple truths. Given this, it’s imperative to correct the historical errors and omissions in a recent New York Times obituary for Reverend Johnson.
The obituary reports that when, just prior to the November 3, 1979 murders, a caravan of Ku Klux Klansmen and American Nazis arrived at the start of a march Nelson Johnson and his fellow communists were mounting against racism, the police were “standing nearby.” This isn’t true. The police were, by official order, absent and out of sight and therefore unable to stop the approaching violence. What makes this particularly alarming is that at least three law enforcement agencies—the Greensboro Police Department, the FBI, and the Bureau of Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms—had elicited enough information from informants and infiltrators to stop the white supremacist attack before it happened. Every serious investigation of the November 3, 1979 events over the last quarter century acknowledges this.
When the facts of the Greensboro Massacre are presented clearly, it’s easy to see how the white power politics, law enforcement bias, and political opportunism that led to that tragedy illuminate the time we are in.
Klansmen and Nazis inflicting violence on African Americans, Jews, Catholics, Latinos, Native Americans and left activists is a horrific though unsurprising fact of American history. However, we must not omit from this history the responsibility of the public officials charged with protecting and serving all our citizens. The very foundation of our democratic system rests on the implicit and explicit trust we place in state officials and institutions to protect us in situations like the one that led to the Greensboro Massacre.
The Greensboro Massacre reminds us, as we are being reminded again today, that the only way to preserve that trust is to hold officials accountable when they betray it and commit crimes. Sadly, our justice system did not find the vigilante white supremacists or complicit officers of the law criminally responsible for the November 3, 1979 murders. Only a federal civil suit brought a sliver of justice to the tragedy. The New York Times obituary notes the civil judgement that found eight defendants liable for death but does not tell readers who they were: Five were Klansmen and Nazis, one was a police informant (and former FBI informant), and two were Greensboro police officers. This judgement reminds us that we must continuously resist the influence of reactionary white supremacist politics in our law enforcement agencies and justice system.
The obituary concludes with the installation of the 2015 North Carolina state historical marker commemorating the massacre. Left unreported, however, is the tenacious and hopeful work, not only by Reverend Johnson, but by Greensboro’s civil society, to set their history right. Thanks to these groundbreaking efforts, which included a two-year Truth and Reconciliation Commission, the City of Greensboro offered two apologies for the massacre: one in 2017, following the deadly Unite the Right rally in Charlottesville, and another in 2020, in the wake of George Floyd’s murder. This second apology explicitly acknowledged that the Greensboro Police Department could have prevented the violence on November 3, 1979. Movingly, the city established a scholarship fund in the names of the five slain activists.
When the facts of the Greensboro Massacre are presented clearly, it’s easy to see how the white power politics, law enforcement bias, and political opportunism that led to that tragedy illuminate the time we are in.
It’s also important to remember, however, that Reverend Johnson’s historical significance is far greater than the trauma of November 3, 1979. His 60 years of racial and economic justice activism may be seen as an essential bridge, spanning from the revolutionary visions of Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X to Dr. William Barber’s current mobilizations on behalf of our nation’s poor. Like both these leaders, Johnson saw race and economics as inextricably linked. And like them, he never stopped trying to fix the root causes of inequality in America for all people suffering predatory capitalism. He came to consider demonizing others, even one’s enemies, as a mistake. That revelation would lead him away from communism to liberation theology and the idea of revolutionary, Christian love. This philosophical shift, however, didn’t transform Johnson from radical to reformer; he never stopped believing that true equality and justice in the United States will only come with fundamental changes to our values, our institutions, and our economy.
Reverend Johnson’s community-based work has inspired labor and racial justice leaders all around the country. Though his name might not, until now, have been known widely, his work with unions and churches and social justice organizations has been buttressing grassroots democracy for decades.
The life of this big-hearted farm kid from the Airlie, North Carolina expands the geography, timeline, and scope of the conventional civil rights story. Getting his story right broadens our understanding of American history’s lessons, affirms a powerful faith in equal justice and democracy, embraces the power of community, and rejects the repression of our country’s truths.
Individuals eager to overturn democratic institutions stand sanctioned, if not emboldened, to commit another violent insurrection.
U.S. President Donald Trump’s flurry of executive orders rattled nerves, elevating the tension levels of many Americans. On his first day in office, he pardoned the January 6 rioters, withdrew from the Paris climate agreement, transferred 1,500 military personnel to the southern border, and began mass deportations. Each of his leadership behaviors rings their own unique alarms. But in the interest of brevity, I’ll explore only the impact of the pardons.
Trump promised to screen those prosecuted for the seriousness of those January 6 crimes—at least during the weeks prior to taking office. Nonetheless, on his fateful first day, Trump issued blanket pardons for all of the approximately 1,600 individuals involved in the insurrection. One-third of those cases involved “assaulting, resisting, or impeding law enforcement.” Trump wiped the insurrection’s criminality clean, issuing “a full, complete, and unconditional pardon” to those prosecuted; he also commuted the sentences of those already serving prison time. A few cases involved brutal violence, and several others sedition.
Examination of even a small sampling of these cases explains why anxiety erupted, how rage fuels it, and how general fearfulness can be expected to surge over time. Consider these examples, starting with the ones who committed violent acts.
Trump rendered the January 6 event a non-event. The insurrection (almost) vanishes from history.
Daniel Rodriguez received a three-year sentence for deploying an “electroshock weapon” against a policeman and then “plunging it into the officer’s neck.” William Lewis received the same amount of jail time for spraying “streams of Wasp and Hornet Killer spray at multiple police officers.” Israel Easterday received a 30-month sentence for blasting an officer “in the face with pepper spray at point-blank range,” after which the officer “collapsed and temporarily lost consciousness.” The brutality of these crimes is self-evident.
Regarding prosecutions for sedition, former Proud Boys leader Enrique Tarrio received a 22-year prison sentence for orchestrating his far-right extremist group’s attack on the Capitol. It topped the 18-year sentence handed out for Oath Keeper’s founder Stewart Rhodes. One-time Proud Boys leader Ethan Nordean also received an 18-year sentence. The leader of the Florida chapter of the Oath Keepers, Kelly Megs, was sentenced to 12 years in prison. Details of their guilt in directly planning to overturn the U.S. government can be found in publicly available court documents.
Perhaps the clearest example of sedition occurred when the Southern states seceded from the United States in 1861, sparking the Civil War. Sedition, the crime of illegally inciting people to rebel against a government, is rarely prosecuted. The last significant case of sedition involved socialist leader Eugene V. Debs who, during World War I, urged resistance to the draft and obstructed military recruitment. He was convicted of sedition in 1918, receiving a 10-year sentence. The fact that four of the January 6 insurrectionists were convicted of sedition is remarkable. But, now, and again, those convictions—for literally attempting to topple our government—are moot.
Most presidents issue pardons at the end of their terms, not at the beginning. They deliver them for reasons related to the public good, not for their self-interests. For the first time in U.S. history, Trump pardoned these individuals on his first day and for his personal gain. The pardons reinforce the fictional narrative that the 2020 election was “stolen” from him—a belief Trump (allegedly) holds despite the absence of a shred of tangible evidence. More importantly, they show how Trump’s egotism overshadows his regard for the rule of law.
Americans’ levels of anxiety heightened, in reaction to these pardons, for several reasons. The perpetrators of the January 6 violence, not only freed but newly empowered, may go on to harm others. Several have already threatened those who testified against them, including injured Capitol police officers. Some promise retribution. Who cannot help but feel fearful of the release of violent criminals in any context?
Those convicted of sedition, and many of those who committed violence, show no remorse. Some feel proud, considering their actions necessary. Because of the pardons or commutations, the perpetrators can retain weapons they own or purchase new ones. Will their freedom lead directly to other forms of violence? Might Trump’s pardons inspire other would-be violent criminals? These are all nerve-wracking questions.
Trump’s executive order also negates the time spent by prosecutors, defense attorneys, bailiffs, and jurors involved in these cases, blatantly disrespecting them. Given that nearly 2,000 cases were filed, it is likely that 40,000 or more persons served in the justice process. Their hundreds of thousands of hours of work, time spent away from the families, and the stress involved in processing these cases ends up a total waste. Dispiriting is too mild a word. Trump shows a breathtaking lack of understanding of what justice means.
On an entirely different level, the pardons and commutations threaten the foundations of governmental order. All indictments, prosecutions, and sentences, for charges ranging from trespassing to seditious conspiracy, have been nullified. Trump rendered the January 6 event a non-event. The insurrection (almost) vanishes from history. And now armed individuals intent on overturning the U.S. government, and those lying in wait for the opportunity, remain a lingering risk. Individual loyalties to Trump could change in a hot second. Individuals eager to overturn democratic institutions stand sanctioned, if not emboldened, to commit another violent insurrection.
Trump’s executive orders impact the American psyche in still other ways. We Americans, or citizens of any country, rely on government to provide a basic sense of physical and emotional stability. Along with ensuring access to clean water and air, food, education, and medical care, governments provide citizens with law enforcement and judicial systems. The fairness of these systems warrant constant evaluation, but not through their destruction. Trump opened fault lines in these basic structures, eliciting distrust. Whether conscious of them or not, Americans feel these losses. Will we be safe from harm, or from another attempt to bring the government down? Will other institutions be threatened? While I was finalizing this essay, Trump issued a directive freezing spending on all forms of federal assistance.
Finally, many individuals (like me) are enraged at Trump’s release of individuals who the justice system indicted, tried, and imprisoned. Anger that lacks an adaptive channel of expression may cause any number of psychophysiological problems. It becomes suppressed (conscious) and repressed (unconscious). Americans can expect to experience symptoms ranging from headaches and muscle pain to panic attacks and depression.
Events like these pardons and commutations, or the federal funding freeze, seep into our collective psyches, our unconscious minds. They impact Trump’s supporters, most of whom will feel concern about his impulsivity despite their backing his election. In a statement made in his first day in office, Trump declared, “We’re going to do things that people will be shocked at.” One week in, and he has indeed delivered shocks.
Trump continues to make disquieting speeches and to issue orders. He acts impulsively. Many of his directives, like nominating unfit individuals for cabinet level positions or removing security details for his former advisors, show a reckless disregard for the American public. Trump is motivated by power and revenge, not by empathy and care. He displays precisely the opposite qualities of a competent leader. Simple logic argues that Americans’ anxiety levels will be on the rise.
Thus far, Americans mostly remain apathetic, as I discussed in arecent essay. However, one wonders when the angst and the anger fueling much of it will rise to the surface. When, and if, it does, oppositional movements will likely emerge. Quite possibly, there will be mass demonstrations. These will further test Trump’s judgment. Will he heed their calls, or will he turn the military against American citizens? What if the military refuses? Could there be a military coup? Then, real panic would arise. The international financial markets would crash. Even glancing fantasies of such scenarios raise blood pressures, validating that Trump’s first days in office are truly creating a pandemic of fear.
To honor Brian Thompson, and to ensure his death is not in vain, we can engage in the needed conversation about the extreme depravity of our healthcare system which his death revitalized.
Early this month Luigi Mangione, 26, University of Pennsylvania graduate, allegedly gunned down CEO of UnitedHealthcare, Brian Thompson, 50. The public response has been varied, with many supporting Mangione. Some fear the positive regard of Mangione is indicative of a shift into a new era where violence is glorified and humanity is lost. As a sociology professor who teaches Poverty, Wealth, and Privilege, I disagree. This failure of subsets of the public to broadly denounce the actions of Mangione does not herald a cultural shift in appreciation of violence.
Instead this unusual display of class consciousness reflects two things. First, the reaction is due to the shift in who bore the cost of violence. Class under-resourced; Black, Indigenous, Latinx and people of color; women; and queer and trans people are the normal recipients of societal violence. Wealthy, cishet, white men in positions of power are not. Wealthy, white communities are conditioned to expect protection, and the revocation of that sheltering is rare.
Second, the working classes are weary from surviving an unnecessarily violent and unjust society. We live amid staggering class, race, and gender-based stratification and life and death stakes everyday. The ruling class profits from our blood, sweat, and tears. And yet, when one of the elite passes, they want us to give them more. They ask us to give them our love. Yet, they remain calloused to our pain and ignore our pleas for fairness.
We, as a community, might ask, how are the elite and their apologists not appalled by a harm-rich system that normalizes the idea that humans are only as valuable as their economic worth?
We all deserve the same sanctity of life given to wealthy insiders. However, when it comes to many of our social systems, such as healthcare, respect and care are not institutionalized; instead, harm is normalized. We see “out-sized returns” to private equity investors.
Recently, a magician performed at a kid’s birthday party. Magic tricks work through deception. A magician distracts the audience to hide what else they are doing. Similar dynamics play out in our public life. The wealth gap continues to grow, yet we voted in a billionaire to be president. The public is shamed for failing to appropriately sympathize with Brian Thompson and his family, yet everyday targeted attacks and systemic neglect accumulate to harm and render disposable historically and strategically marginalized communities, such as class under-resourced, BIPOC, women, and trans and queer people.
Let us stop this charade. Our healthcare system is not pro-health. The World Health Organization (WHO) names universal healthcare as a worldwide goal. The United States has not complied. Most Americans are insured through private companies. Many Americans struggle to pay for healthcare, they postpone receiving care, and are in medical debt. The healthcare system has practices, such as using AI to deny a high number of healthcare claims, which put profits over people. There is something deeply inhumane and harmful about this disregard for health in a healthcare system. It may not be illegal, but it is savage.
The elite and their apologists ask, “How could they not be appalled by Thompson’s murder?” Instead we, as a community, might ask, how are the elite and their apologists not appalled by a harm-rich system that normalizes the idea that humans are only as valuable as their economic worth? Decades ago, Larry Summers, currently on the board of directors of OpenAI, famously wrote that people who produce less are more expendable. This classist ideology pervades our healthcare system.
To honor Brian Thompson, and to ensure his death is not in vain, we can engage in the needed conversation about the extreme depravity of our healthcare system which his death revitalized. A path forward that reforms a calloused healthcare system can provide benefits to all of us. Those among us who deeply mourn Brian’s death can take solace that it can impart a legacy of positive, sustainable, and overdue social change. Those among us who view Mangione’s action as predictable, if not understandable, can appreciate the same reform.
To be sure, there are people who claim that human fallibility is a predestined curse that we cannot overcome, that we are born sinners and that we cannot do better than prioritize greed over care of each other, even within our healthcare system. There will be those of us who feel that disproportionate wealth is a triumph and that our healthcare should reflect the position we hold in our socioeconomic system. However, 73 countries have universal healthcare, including China, Russia, Mexico and Canada. Us Americans are also worthy.
Wealthy and powerful people are the most protected against societal harms, and they also have disproportionate control over them. We need the CEOs, billionaires, and other power elites to do better. The system does not have a great way to hold those in charge accountable for bad behavior. Can they figure out a way to hold themselves accountable? Can they reorganize to prioritize care, a virtue, over greed, a vice, in our healthcare system? If they are immune to this self-correcting recovery, we need to organize around collective action, such as voting, for example for single-payer healthcare, because our lives depend on it. We don’t want anyone dying in the street. We also don’t want anyone dying or in pain due to a broken so-called healthcare system.