Showing posts with label the Culture wars. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the Culture wars. Show all posts

Sunday, August 9, 2009

The Ugly Role of Race, Class, and Gender in the Right Wing's Opposition To Supreme Court Nominee Sonia Sotomayor

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/19/weekinreview/19abramson.html?_r=1&nl=pol&emc=polb1&pagewanted=all

All,

The dynamics of Race & Gender/Gender & Race in an openly racist and sexist society...and the ongoing cultural and political battles against it.

...And oh yeah please don't forget CLASS as well. Capitalism takes a backseat to NO ONE...

Kofi


July 19, 2009

FLASHBACK

Women on the Verge of the Law: From Anita Hill to Sonia Sotomayor

By JILL ABRAMSON
New York Times

A lone woman sits at the witness table, hoping her Yale law degree will help her survive a charged Supreme Court confirmation hearing. She faces a battery of powerful white senators on the Judiciary Committee, a contrast that cannot help but make her look like easy pickings.

That was the tableau inside the Senate Judiciary Committee back in 1991, when Anita Hill leveled her accusations of sexual harassment against Clarence Thomas, who had been nominated for the Supreme Court by President George H. W. Bush. But the scene was repeated last week as Judge Sonia Sotomayor took her seat at the table. Although in this tableau she was the nominee and not the opposition witness — and although there was little of the raw tension and none of the unhinged free-for-all that characterized the earlier proceedings — there were unmistakable echoes.

Despite the nearly two decades that separated these women’s Senate moments, Professor Hill and Judge Sotomayor are both from the generation of women who graduated from distinguished law schools in a second wave beginning in the late 1970s. It was a time when law firms, the government and even the judiciary were eager to add women and minorities to their staffs.

The two are linked in another way. Together, their experiences before the committee summarize a change in recent American politics. Professor Hill’s treatment by an all-male Judiciary panel presaged an outcry of “They just don’t get it!” and the election of many more women to the Congress. And the atmosphere of those earlier proceedings also insured a far tamer set of hearings this time, as neither Republicans nor Democrats have wanted to face the kind of damage inflicted by the partisan circus of 1991.

Inside the hearing room last week, a number of figures who played important roles in the Hill-Thomas confrontation were again present, although some in different parts. Senator Arlen Specter of Pennsylvania, a onetime chairman of the Judiciary Committee whose harshly prosecutorial questioning of Ms. Hill almost cost him re-election in 1992, was now on the Democratic side of the dais, looking a bit out of place. His suddenly junior status placed him next to the party’s newest member, Al Franken. Mr. Specter, too, was having flashbacks.

“Professor Hill produced the year of women in the Senate,” he recalled during a break. “That proceeding was a real lesson to me. I heard from so many women who saw themselves in her place, who felt their veracity was being questioned along with hers.”

Another familiar face was Senator Orrin Hatch, Republican of Utah, whose questions about pornographic movies, especially one with a character named Long Dong Silver, and suggestions that Ms. Hill had fabricated her testimony, helped ignite women’s anger. Questioning Judge Sotomayor last week, Mr. Hatch was among the tamest of the Republicans. Whispering in his ear was his aide Thomas Jipping, who in 1991 was an influential conservative activist working for Paul Weyrich, the movement leader who coined the phrase “moral majority.” When Mr. Jipping was asked by the first Bush White House to suggest a nominee who might excite the conservative base, he supplied a single name: Clarence Thomas.

Senator Patrick Leahy, too, was a holdover from the Thomas hearings. Now the Judiciary chairman, he has played the role of avuncular protector to Judge Sotomayor. He seemed relaxed and jocular in these hearings, signaling his confidence that she would be confirmed easily. When the Republican senators doggedly returned to the judge’s “wise Latina” remarks, Mr. Leahy and his Democratic colleagues, with discipline not always seen in the past, steered the subject back to her long, rather mainstream judicial record. It was a tight script, one coordinated with the White House. Not so in 1991. Ms. Hill did not receive much help from the Democrats on the committee, and the tempestuous proceedings made Mr. Leahy so distraught that he feared he was having a heart attack and was rushed to a hospital.

In 1991, there were no women on the Judiciary Committee; today there are just 2 among the 19 members. One of them is Dianne Feinstein, elected in 1992 as part of the so-called Anita Hill class, which brought a record number of women to the House (47) and Senate (6). Senator Feinstein noted that when Judge Sotomayor graduated from Yale Law in 1979, there had never been a woman on the Supreme Court and that although women represent 50.7 percent of the population, 48 percent of law school graduates and 30 percent of American lawyers, there are now only 17 women in the Senate and one on the Supreme Court.

“So we’re making progress, but we’re not there yet,” Ms. Feinstein said.

She invited Judge Sotomayor to expound, but the judge didn’t bite, instead talking about how she hoped to be a role model for “Americans of all kinds and all backgrounds.”

Sitting approvingly behind Judge Sotomayor through the long hours was her White House handler, Cynthia Hogan. Judge Sotomayor’s almost robotic performance must have seemed a triumph for Ms. Hogan, working as she does for a president who famously eschews drama. In 1991, Ms. Hogan often sat behind Joe Biden, who was then chairman of the Judiciary Committee, as he struggled to keep the spectacle from turning into theater of the absurd.

That legacy has left little possibility for what Senator Lindsey Graham called the only thing that could scuttle Judge Sotomayor’s confirmation: “a complete meltdown” in the hearing room. In 1987, Robert Bork proved that it was confirmation suicide to have a frank discussion about judicial philosophy, and nominees have since refused to drop even small hints about their views on issues that might come before the court.

Personal background checks of nominees are now so rigorous that there is little chance of a skeleton dancing out of the closet. Although there were references to Judge Sotomayor’s running a “hot bench,” and anonymous comments accusing her of bullying lawyers, her preternaturally measured statements blunted them. The wild times of the Bork and Thomas hearings are over, and confirmations have become so sedate that several prominent lawyers loudly complained that absolutely nothing about either the law or Judge Sotomayor was learned in four days of hearings.

Still, history is being made. The first Latina, and third woman, will be appointed to the court. And though Republicans pushed her into disowning her “wise Latina” remarks, the full texts of those speeches reveal an interesting generational shift between Judge Sotomayor and the women who preceded her, Sandra Day O’Connor and Ruth Bader Ginsburg. Justices O’Connor and Ginsburg were among a tiny minority of women in their law school classes, and both faced barriers as they broke into the legal profession. (Justice O’Connor was offered secretarial jobs after graduating third in her Stanford Law class in 1952.) Justice Ginsburg vividly recalls that when she entered law school in 1956, the dean asked each of the nine women in the class why they were at Harvard, taking the seat of a man.

Much had changed by the 1970s, when Judge Sotomayor entered Yale. The nation’s best law schools were filling up with what Stephen Carter, a Yale law professor, calls affirmative action babies. By the time Judge Sotomayor graduated, women made up 28 percent of all law graduates. Law firms were aggressively recruiting more women, as were judicial chambers and, in Judge Sotomayor’s case, prosecutors’ offices.

With a lot of hard work and long hours, women were breaking into the partnership ranks of white-shoe firms and onto the upper rungs of the federal judiciary. (Notwithstanding the greater opportunities for women, Judge Sotomayor filed a grievance when a law firm refused to consider her for employment because, she said, she was Latina.)

But success came at a price. Judge Sotomayor has talked about having to turn down dates because of work. “A man who calls three times, and three times you answer, ‘I’ve got to work late,’ ‘I’m flying to such and such a place,’ ” she said, “After the third time, ‘gee, maybe she’s not interested.’ ” Even her closest friends say they have to set up “play dates” months in advance. Although she is a godmother to her clerks’ children and a devoted aunt, Judge Sotomayor divorced after seven years of marriage and has no children.

Judge Sotomayor’s struggles resonate with Alice Young, who graduated from Harvard Law School in 1974, a few years before Judge Sotomayor. She notes that most of the women in her class who made partner at law firms did not marry or have children. “You had to make a choice about what was more important, your professional or personal life,” she said. (In Ms. Young’s case, the road led to partnership, as well as marriage and children.)

The women coming up behind Judge Sotomayor have given these tradeoffs a lot of agonized thought. Emily Bazelon, a fellow at Yale Law School, has been writing about the hearings for Double X, Slate’s new women’s Web site. “Women of accomplishment like Sotomayor make many of us so proud,” she said, “but they are not necessarily a model if you want to balance work and family, which is a huge issue for younger lawyers.”

Lauren Gerber is a leader of Yale Law Women, which recently sponsored a conference that examined the pressures on social and family life in the legal profession. While finding a balance has been particularly elusive for women, Ms. Gerber noted that quite a few men showed up for the conference.

Someone who is celebrating Judge Sotomayor’s elevation to the Supreme Court without ambiguity is Anita Hill, who graduated from Yale Law one year after her and now teaches social policy, law and women’s studies at Brandeis University. “As an experienced lawyer and jurist,” Ms. Hill wrote on the first day of the hearings, “Judge Sotomayor is representative of a generation of hardworking and talented women lawyers.”


Jill Abramson, a managing editor of The Times, is co-author of “Strange Justice: The Selling of Clarence Thomas” and “Where They Are Now: The Story of the Women of Harvard Law 1974.”


Copyright 2009 The New York Times Company

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Politics and Cultural Hegemony in Post-Bush America

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/03/15/opinion/15rich.html?_r=1&th&emc=th

All,

Following the incisive and valuable admonition of the late, great Miles Davis-- legendary musician, composer, and first rate literary critic-- Frank Rich always "writes what he knows." And like the redoubtable Miles himself Rich also manages to kick mucho ass in the process. Clarity, depth, insight, and precision are in short supply these days with far too many writers but Rich's mature appreciation for the intricacies and nuances of "truth and consequences" in our public political and cultural lives marks his stylish ongoing journalistic commentary as a highly accurate and reliable barometer of the times we currently live in. What more could we ask of any writer at any time?...

Kofi


P.S. For further evidence check out Rich's extraordinary 2006 magnum opus "The Greatest Story Ever Sold: The Decline and Fall of Truth in Bush's America" (Penguin Books)


March 15, 2009
OP-ED COLUMNIST

The Culture Warriors Get Laid Off
By FRANK RICH
New York Times


SOMEDAY we’ll learn the whole story of why George W. Bush brushed off that intelligence briefing of Aug. 6, 2001, “Bin Laden Determined to Strike in U.S.” But surely a big distraction was the major speech he was readying for delivery on Aug. 9, his first prime-time address to the nation. The subject — which Bush hyped as “one of the most profound of our time” — was stem cells. For a presidency in thrall to a thriving religious right (and a presidency incapable of multi-tasking), nothing, not even terrorism, could be more urgent.

When Barack Obama ended the Bush stem-cell policy last week, there were no such overheated theatrics. No oversold prime-time address. No hysteria from politicians, the news media or the public. The family-values dinosaurs that once stalked the earth — Falwell, Robertson, Dobson and Reed — are now either dead, retired or disgraced. Their less-famous successors pumped out their pro forma e-mail blasts, but to little avail. The Republican National Committee said nothing whatsoever about Obama’s reversal of Bush stem-cell policy. That’s quite a contrast to 2006, when the party’s wild and crazy (and perhaps transitory) new chairman, Michael Steele, likened embryonic stem-cell research to Nazi medical experiments during his failed Senate campaign.

What has happened between 2001 and 2009 to so radically change the cultural climate? Here, at last, is one piece of good news in our global economic meltdown: Americans have less and less patience for the intrusive and divisive moral scolds who thrived in the bubbles of the Clinton and Bush years. Culture wars are a luxury the country — the G.O.P. included — can no longer afford.

Not only was Obama’s stem-cell decree an anticlimactic blip in the news, but so was his earlier reversal of Bush restrictions on the use of federal money by organizations offering abortions overseas. When the administration tardily ends “don’t ask, don’t tell,” you can bet that this action, too, will be greeted by more yawns than howls.

Once again, both the president and the country are following New Deal-era precedent. In the 1920s boom, the reigning moral crusade was Prohibition, and it packed so much political muscle that F.D.R. didn’t oppose it. The Anti-Saloon League was the Moral Majority of its day, the vanguard of a powerful fundamentalist movement that pushed anti-evolution legislation as vehemently as it did its war on booze. (The Scopes “monkey trial” was in 1925.) But the political standing of this crowd crashed along with the stock market. Roosevelt shrewdly came down on the side of “the wets” in his presidential campaign, leaving Hoover to drown with “the dries.”

Much as Obama repealed the Bush restrictions on abortion and stem-cell research shortly after pushing through his stimulus package, so F.D.R. jump-started the repeal of Prohibition by asking Congress to legalize beer and wine just days after his March 1933 inauguration and declaration of a bank holiday. As Michael A. Lerner writes in his fascinating 2007 book “Dry Manhattan,” Roosevelt’s stance reassured many Americans that they would have a president “who not only cared about their economic well-being” but who also understood their desire to be liberated from “the intrusion of the state into their private lives.” Having lost plenty in the Depression, the public did not want to surrender any more freedoms to the noisy minority that had shut down the nation’s saloons.

In our own hard times, the former moral “majority” has been downsized to more of a minority than ever. Polling shows that nearly 60 percent of Americans agree with ending Bush restrictions on stem-cell research (a Washington Post/ABC News survey in January); that 55 percent endorse either gay civil unions or same-sex marriage (Newsweek, December 2008); and that 75 percent believe openly gay Americans should serve in the military (Post/ABC, July 2008). Even the old indecency wars have subsided. When a federal court last year struck down the F.C.C. fine against CBS for Janet Jackson’s “wardrobe malfunction” at the 2004 Super Bowl, few Americans either noticed or cared about the latest twist in what had once been a national cause célèbre.

It’s not hard to see why Eric Cantor, the conservative House firebrand who is vehemently opposed to stem-cell research, was disinclined to linger on the subject when asked about it on CNN last Sunday. He instead accused the White House of acting on stem cells as a ploy to distract from the economy. “Let’s take care of business first,” he said. “People are out of jobs.” (On this, he’s joining us late, but better late than never.)

Even were the public still in the mood for fiery invective about family values, the G.O.P. has long since lost any authority to lead the charge. The current Democratic president and his family are exemplars of precisely the Eisenhower-era squareness — albeit refurbished by feminism — that the Republicans often preached but rarely practiced. Obama actually walks the walk. As the former Bush speechwriter David Frum recently wrote, the new president is an “apparently devoted husband and father” whose worst vice is “an occasional cigarette.”

Frum was contrasting Obama to his own party’s star attraction, Rush Limbaugh, whose “history of drug dependency” and “tangled marital history” make him “a walking stereotype of self-indulgence.” Indeed, the two top candidates for leader of the post-Bush G.O.P, Rush and Newt, have six marriages between them. The party that once declared war on unmarried welfare moms, homosexual “recruiters” and Bill Clinton’s private life has been rebranded by Mark Foley, Larry Craig, David Vitter and the irrepressible Palins. Even before the economy tanked, Americans had more faith in medical researchers using discarded embryos to battle Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s than in Washington politicians making ad hoc medical decisions for Terri Schiavo.

What’s been revealing about watching conservatives debate their fate since their Election Day Waterloo is how, the occasional Frum excepted, so many of them don’t want to confront the obsolescence of culture wars as a political crutch. They’d rather, like Cantor, just change the subject — much as they avoid talking about Bush and avoid reckoning with the doomed demographics of the G.O.P.’s old white male base. To recognize all these failings would be to confront why a once-national party can now be tucked into the Bible Belt.

The religious right is even more in denial than the Republicans. When Obama nominated Kathleen Sebelius, the Roman Catholic Kansas governor who supports abortion rights, as his secretary of health and human services, Tony Perkins, the leader of the Family Research Council, became nearly as apoplectic as the other Tony Perkins playing Norman Bates. “If Republicans won’t take a stand now, when will they?” the godly Perkins thundered online. But Congressional Republicans ignored him, sending out (at most) tepid press releases of complaint, much as they did in response to Obama’s stem-cell order. The two antiabortion Kansas Republicans in the Senate, Sam Brownback and Pat Roberts, both endorsed Sebelius.

Perkins is now praying that economic failure will be a stimulus for his family-values business. “As the economy goes downward,” he has theorized, “I think people are going to be driven to religion.” Wrong again. The latest American Religious Identification Survey, published last week, found that most faiths have lost ground since 1990 and that the fastest-growing religious choice is “None,” up from 8 percent to 15 percent (which makes it larger than all denominations except Roman Catholics and Baptists). Another highly regarded poll, the General Social Survey, had an even more startling finding in its preliminary 2008 data released this month: Twice as many Americans have a “great deal” of confidence in the scientific community as do in organized religion. How the almighty has fallen: organized religion is in a dead heat with banks and financial institutions on the confidence scale.

This, too, is a replay of the Great Depression. “One might have expected that in such a crisis great numbers of these people would have turned to the consolations of and inspirations of religion,” wrote Frederick Lewis Allen in “Since Yesterday,” his history of the 1930s published in 1940. But that did not happen: “The long slow retreat of the churches into less and less significance in the life of the country, and even in the lives of the majority of their members, continued almost unabated.”

The new American faith, Allen wrote, was the “secular religion of social consciousness.” It took the form of campaigns for economic and social justice — as exemplified by the New Deal and those movements that challenged it from both the left and the right. It’s too early in our crisis and too early in the new administration to know whether this decade will so closely replicate the 1930s, but so far Obama has far more moral authority than any religious leader in America with the possible exception of his sometime ally, the Rev. Rick Warren.

History is cyclical, and it would be foolhardy to assume that the culture wars will never return. But after the humiliations of the Scopes trial and the repeal of Prohibition, it did take a good four decades for the religious right to begin its comeback in the 1970s. In our tough times, when any happy news can be counted as a miracle, a 40-year exodus for these ayatollahs can pass for an answer to America’s prayers.


Copyright 2009 The New York Times Company