Discourse that allows us to express a wide range of ideas, opinions, and analysis that can be used as an opportunity to critically examine and observe what our experience means to us beyond the given social/cultural contexts and norms that are provided us.
"...When the GOP won white voters by dog-whistling white supremacy, Democrats wooed them back with a renewed commitment to “mainstream America.”
To “solve” the Reagan-Jackson antinomy, centrist and conservative white Democrats from the South—led by political strategist Al From and including Georgia Senator Sam Nunn, Virginia Governor Chuck Robb, Arkansas Governor Bill Clinton, and Tennessee Senator Al Gore—established the Democratic Leadership Council (DLC) in 1985 with the chief aim of “mov[ing] the party—both in substance and perception—back into the mainstream of political life.
The DLC repudiated Franklin D. Roosevelt’s development of the social welfare state through New Deal initiatives and what it perceived to be Lyndon B. Johnson’s partiality to special interest groups. No longer was the Democratic Party interested in speaking to, and representing, its core constituency since the 1960s: people of color, labor, women, the working poor, and the unemployed. Instead, the DLC couched its campaign rhetoric and policy platforms in the language of “mainstream America” and “the forgotten middle class.” The DLC was determined to make the party more palatable to the white men—especially the Southern white men—the Democratic Party had lost to the GOP after the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and other political victories won by people of color. If Nixon’s Southern strategy opened the GOP’s door to alienated white voters by dog-whistling an embrace of white supremacy, the DLC’s aspiration to move the party into the mainstream of political life was an attempt to court those same voters.
Though the DLC was established in 1985, it didn’t become a significant force within the Democratic Party until after Jackson’s second-place primary finish in 1988. At a DLC conference in November 1989, Louisiana Senator John Breaux told attendees that the party needed to redirect itself “toward a mainstream agenda” because “working-class white Democrats have been deserting the Democratic primary process in droves.” That same morning, Robb, now a senator, asserted:
Policies forged in the economic crisis of the 1930s and the social and cultural schisms of the 1960s are less and less relevant to the changes and challenges that are facing America domestically and internationally. . . . the national Democratic Party has in some important respects strayed from its historic mission of expanding opportunities for ordinary Americans. Instead, far too many Americans have come to believe that our party is more interested in expanding government for the benefit of special interests.
The Democratic Party had a choice: incorporate progressive “special interest” elements of Jackson’s National Rainbow Coalition platform—such as single-payer universal healthcare, living-wage policies, and alternatives to incarceration—or ingratiate itself to “ordinary Americans”—the white electorate—through scarcely hidden, racially encoded appeals to continued white political dominance. At the urging of the DLC, the Party chose the latter. Although the DLC officially closed its doors in 2011, many of its former members are now part of the Obama administration, and there is ample evidence that the DLC’s white-dominated racial legacy lives on within today’s Democratic Party..." --Christopher Petrella, "On Stone Mountain: Bill Clinton, white supremacy, and the birth of the modern Democratic Party", Boston Review, March 30, 2016
Last month, in an article for The Nation on “Why Hillary Clinton Doesn’t Deserve the Black Vote,” Michelle Alexander detailed the toxic consequences for black families and communities of President Bill Clinton’s 1994 criminalization bill and his 1996 welfare-to-workfare act—and the first lady’s vigorous lobbying for both pieces of legislation. Considering these bills alongside Hillary Clinton’s blithe description of black youth as “superpredators” in need of being brought “to heel,” Alexander concludes that the Clintons did not “courageously stand up to right-wing demagoguery about black communities,” as they have claimed. Neither did they “take extreme political risks to defend the rights of African Americans” nor “help usher in a new era of hope and prosperity for neighborhoods devastated by deindustrialization, globalization, and the disappearance of work.”
The title of Alexander’s article positions readers to anticipate a clear-eyed, full-throated endorsement of Bernie Sanders. Yet Alexander offers no such thing. “The biggest problem with Bernie,” Alexander writes, “is that he’s running as a Democrat—as a member of a political party that not only capitulated to right-wing demagoguery but is now owned and controlled by a relatively small number of millionaires and billionaires. . . . I am inclined to believe that it would be easier to build a new party than to save the Democratic Party from itself.”
To this end, the real power of Alexander’s critique is in using the Clintons as a lens through which to consider larger questions about the modern Democratic Party. Is it capable of offering a truly progressive political vision that reflects the needs of working women and men and aspirations of communities of color? Indeed, how did it move so far to the right?
One explanation sees the failures of today’s Democratic Party being sown in the 1980s. But narrating the ’80s as the Age of Reagan mistakenly suggests the left’s rightward turn was inevitable, and it obscures political battles that raged within the Democratic Party during that decade. Yes, Reagan and the Republican Party pulled the Democratic Party to the right, but at the same time Jesse Jackson and his National Rainbow Coalition were pulling the party to the left. We need to reckon with how the Democratic Party chose to deal with these competing pressures.
In 1983 Jesse Jackson announced his presidential platform in starkly multiracial terms:
"This candidacy is not for blacks only. This is a national campaign growing out of the black experience and seen through the eyes of a black perspective—which is the experience and perspective of the rejected. Because of this experience, I can empathize with the plight of Appalachia because I have known poverty. I know the pain of anti-Semitism because I have felt the humiliation of discrimination. I know firsthand the shame of bread lines and the horror of hopelessness and despair. . ."
Although Jackson lost the 1984 Democratic nomination to Walter Mondale, he managed to place third in the primary with more than 3 million votes. When Jackson ran again in 1988 he placed second, winning nearly 7 million votes and more than one thousand delegates—more than any runner-up in history, according to journalist JoAnn Wypijewski. Pulled between Reagan, Jackson, and an electorate that for five out of the previous six presidential election cycles had chosen a Republican, the Democratic Party was in crisis.
When the GOP won white voters by dog-whistling white supremacy, Democrats wooed them back with a renewed commitment to “mainstream America.”
To “solve” the Reagan-Jackson antinomy, centrist and conservative white Democrats from the South—led by political strategist Al From and including Georgia Senator Sam Nunn, Virginia Governor Chuck Robb, Arkansas Governor Bill Clinton, and Tennessee Senator Al Gore—established the Democratic Leadership Council (DLC) in 1985 with the chief aim of “mov[ing] the party—both in substance and perception—back into the mainstream of political life.”
The DLC repudiated Franklin D. Roosevelt’s development of the social welfare state through New Deal initiatives and what it perceived to be Lyndon B. Johnson’s partiality to special interest groups. No longer was the Democratic Party interested in speaking to, and representing, its core constituency since the 1960s: people of color, labor, women, the working poor, and the unemployed. Instead, the DLC couched its campaign rhetoric and policy platforms in the language of “mainstream America” and “the forgotten middle class.” The DLC was determined to make the party more palatable to the white men—especially the Southern white men—the Democratic Party had lost to the GOP after the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and other political victories won by people of color. If Nixon’s Southern strategy opened the GOP’s door to alienated white voters by dog-whistling an embrace of white supremacy, the DLC’s aspiration to move the party into the mainstream of political life was an attempt to court those same voters.
Though the DLC was established in 1985, it didn’t become a significant force within the Democratic Party until after Jackson’s second-place primary finish in 1988. At a DLC conference in November 1989, Louisiana Senator John Breaux told attendees that the party needed to redirect itself “toward a mainstream agenda” because “working-class white Democrats have been deserting the Democratic primary process in droves.” That same morning, Robb, now a senator, asserted:
Policies forged in the economic crisis of the 1930s and the social and cultural schisms of the 1960s are less and less relevant to the changes and challenges that are facing America domestically and internationally. . . . the national Democratic Party has in some important respects strayed from its historic mission of expanding opportunities for ordinary Americans. Instead, far too many Americans have come to believe that our party is more interested in expanding government for the benefit of special interests.
The Democratic Party had a choice: incorporate progressive “special interest” elements of Jackson’s National Rainbow Coalition platform—such as single-payer universal healthcare, living-wage policies, and alternatives to incarceration—or ingratiate itself to “ordinary Americans”—the white electorate—through scarcely hidden, racially encoded appeals to continued white political dominance. At the urging of the DLC, the Party chose the latter. Although the DLC officially closed its doors in 2011, many of its former members are now part of the Obama administration, and there is ample evidence that the DLC’s white-dominated racial legacy lives on within today’s Democratic Party.
On March 1, 1992, just a week before Super Tuesday—itself a DLC invention to address the supposedly outsized role that “issue activist and interest group leaders” had come to play in the nomination process—the DLC held a Clinton campaign event at the Stone Mountain Correctional Institution in Stone Mountain, Georgia, a suburb of Atlanta. The event took place in the months between Bill Clinton’s peregrination to Arkansas to oversee the execution of Ricky Ray Rector, a black prisoner with documented intellectual disabilities, and his “Sister Souljah moment” in May, when he vocally distanced himself from Jackson and radical black activism.
A striking photograph from the Stone Mountain event, which Wypijewski describes as “the iconic image of ’92,” shows “Clinton and [DLC leader] Senator Sam Nunn posing at Stone Mountain, Georgia . . . and in the middle distance, a group of black prisoners.” Directly behind Clinton stands Georgia Governor Zell Miller, who made headlines in 2004 when he crossed party lines to support George W. Bush instead of John Kerry. Flanking Clinton opposite Nunn is Georgia Congressman Ben Lewis Jones, former star of The Dukes of Hazzard and outspoken defender of the Confederate flag.
Perhaps even more consequential than the photograph’s mise en scène is its location. Stone Mountain, is Georgia’s “most renowned historical marker,” as Somini Sengupta points out, and “one that many people would rather not remember.” The modern Ku Klux Klan was born in 1915 at a Stone Mountain rally celebrating President Woodrow Wilson’s White House screening of D. W. Griffith’s The Birth of a Nation. Griffith’s movie, often credited as the first feature-length film, is a white supremacist hagiography narrating the Klan’s Reconstruction-era “protection” of white women from the uncontrolled sexual aggressions of free black men. For the next fifty years, Stone Mountain was the site of an annual Labor Day cross-burning ceremony. It is also home to the Confederate Memorial Carving (begun in 1923 but only completed in 1972), a Mt. Rushmore–style grotesquerie that depicts three leaders of the Confederacy: Robert E. Lee, Stonewall Jackson, and Jefferson Davis.
It is hard to imagine the DLC would not have been aware of Stone Mountain’s significance as a theater of white supremacy when it staged Clinton’s campaign event at the prison there. In fact, the choice of that particular place as a campaign stop—arranging white political leaders in business suits in front of subjugated black male prisoners in jumpsuits—is illegible except in light of this history. One would be hard-pressed to find a photograph that more forcefully exposes the deep racial paradox of the DLC and the modern Democratic Party. Perhaps this helps to explain why Alexander holds “little hope that a political revolution will occur within the Democratic Party without a sustained outside movement forcing truly transformational change.”
Of course, white supremacy proliferates even more flagrantly within today’s Republican Party. White supremacy is not a party issue. It transcends such porous boundaries in order to remain ubiquitous yet unmarked. Indeed, part of what makes its endurance possible in the two-party electoral arena is that each party marshals the language, tropes, optics, politics, and policies of white supremacy in distinct ways. One party’s tepid attempts to “improve race relations” become visible only when juxtaposed against those of the other party. Whereas the modern Republican Party often seems disturbingly unwilling to critique even the most conspicuous forms of white supremacy, the Democratic Party seems eager to reach for “post-race” without giving serious attention to the historical production of race itself. The difference is more tactical than substantive.
Most problematic, however, is the near-total erasure from canonical history of watershed, critically symbolic events such as Clinton’s photo op at Stone Mountain—and what they reveal about the birth of the modern Democratic Party. Examination of this history unlocks the possibility of truthful public conversations about the harm done by the party’s rightward shift. It is a pre-requisite in moving the party back to the left.
This election cycle presents an opportunity to draw on the organizing potential of forceful, progressive grassroots movements such as Black Lives Matter and the Bernie Sanders campaign to demand that, this time around, the Democratic Party accept an invitation to move left. History doesn’t pass; it accumulates. Seizing the present as a historical moment requires policies that repair our nation’s collective racial and economic supremacies. Demanding that the Democratic Party confront its serrated legacy of white supremacy in the modern era—and its reflexive groveling at the jagged edges of capitalism—is but one of many steps toward creating a politics inclusive of those the party alleges to support.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Christopher Petrella received his doctorate in African American Studies from the University of California, Berkeley.
Trump and MAGA are incapable of creating relevant and meaningful culture, so they must rig the system, appropriate our institutions, and cheat because they can't compete with the rest of us.
Trump Names Kennedy Center Honorees and Says He Will Host Ceremony
The president has taken a strong interest in the Kennedy Center’s affairs ever since naming himself chairman in February, when he restocked its traditionally bipartisan board with loyalists.
IMAGE: President Donald J. Trump said that he would be hosting the Kennedy Center Honors himself in December and announced the honorees, which included Sylvester Stallone and Gloria Gaynor. Mr. Trump then focused most of his remarks on the National Guard being deployed to Washington.Credit:Tierney L. Cross/The New York Times
President Trump affirmed his growing influence over the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington on Wednesday morning by announcing the new class of Kennedy Center honorees and revealing that he would host this year’s ceremony personally.
Mr. Trump has taken a strong interest in the Kennedy Center’s affairs ever since naming himself chairman in February, when he purged its traditionally bipartisan board of Biden-era appointees and restocked it with loyalists. His news conference made clear that he is in complete control of the Kennedy Center Honors: He suggested he had approved the final list of honorees himself, saying he rejected several prospective names he called “wokesters.”
Instead, his list included the country music legend George Strait, the disco queen Gloria Gaynor, and the glam rock band Kiss as musical honorees. Joining them were Michael Crawford, a British actor decorated for his stage performances in musicals like “Phantom of the Opera,” and Sylvester Stallone, the American action actor best known for portraying the boxer Rocky Balboa in a series of eponymous films and the mercenary warrior John Rambo in another box-office franchise.
Mr. Trump spoke at length about Mr. Stallone, whom he said in January would serve as a special ambassador to Hollywood along with two other supporters, Mel Gibson and Jon Voight, who he said would be his “eyes and ears” in the entertainment capital.
The announcement, in a week when Mr. Trump has taken federal control of Washington’s police department and launched a review of exhibits at the Smithsonian, marked another step in his cultural takeover of Washington and its institutions.
In March, Mr. Trump toured the Kennedy Center and met with his new board for the first time and floated the idea of hosting its annual honors ceremony himself, according to an audio recording of the meeting obtained by The New York Times. Mr. Trump referred to himself then as “the king of ratings.”
He boycotted the ceremony during his first term after several of the artists who were being honored criticized him. This time, he reveled in his view from behind the lectern, remarking on the center’s marble columns and his thoughts about how to renovate everything from its grand spaces to the lawns outside. “We’re going to redo the grass with the finest grasses,” he said.
His lengthy remarks veered between topics for about an hour, and included personal memories of Mr. Stallone’s films, his thoughts about a peace deal for Ukraine; critiques of favored targets like former President Joseph R. Biden Jr. and the Federal Reserve chair Jerome H. Powell; and his distaste for Washington itself, a capital city that he once again derided as “dirty.”
Asked by reporters about his looming summit with President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia on Friday in Alaska, Mr. Trump said Russia would face consequences if it did not agree to stop its war in Ukraine. He did not offer details except to say those consequences would be “very severe.”
Mr. Trump told a reporter that he probably would not be able to stop Mr. Putin from targeting civilians in Ukraine, because he had had that conversation with the Russian leader before, and the killings of civilians have continued.
Shawn McCreesh is a White House reporter for The Times covering the Trump administration.
Katie Rogers is a White House correspondent for The Times, reporting on President Trump.
[Shawn McCreesh is a White House correspondent. He reported from the Kennedy Center in Washington.]
The president of the United States was talking about Gloria Gaynor, Rambo, Kiss, “The Phantom of the Opera” and Nancy Reagan’s “Just Say No” campaign.
It was not 1986 and the president was not Ronald Reagan. It was 2025 and it was Donald Trump.
He was standing on the plush, red-carpeted grand foyer of the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, unveiling his own personal choices for the next class of Kennedy Center honorees. He also announced his plans to host the award ceremony himself, and then began to hold forth more generally about the nature of show business and his own tortured relationship with celebrity.
“I’m on the Hollywood Walk of Fame,” Mr. Trump said proudly at one point. “If you can believe that one.”
There is something about the Kennedy Center that seems to bring this out in him — a kind of yearning for a simpler time when he was thought of as a tabloid rascal turned reality television maestro, a mostly in-on-the-joke figure who symbolized greed and commercialism and who appeared in everything from “Home Alone 2” to “Sex and the City” to a Pizza Hut commercial.
Whatever else he is or has become, Donald J. Trump is at heart a pop culture obsessive. A fame junkie of the highest order. Us Weekly in human form.
That piece of him did not just fade away because he became the leader of a populist political movement and a two-time president. It’s all still wound up in there, as was evidenced by so much of what he said on Wednesday.
“Since 1978, the Kennedy Center honors have been among the most prestigious awards in the performing arts,” he said before a small group of top aides, Kennedy Center employees and a bank of television cameras. “I wanted one. I was never able to get one. It’s true, I would have taken it if they would’ve called me. I waited and waited and waited, and I said to hell with it, I’ll become chairman, and I’ll give myself an honor. Next year we’ll honor Trump, OK?”
That last part was said like a joke, but really, who can be sure? Now that Mr. Trump is empowered as never before, he is scratching all sorts of long-held itches. He wants a military parade on his birthday? He throws one. He wants a Mar-a-Lago-style patio off the Oval Office? He paves over the Rose Garden and builds one. He’s sick and tired of being a pariah in the liberal showbusinessland whence he came? He takes over the Kennedy Center and decides to host an awards ceremony himself.
“Look at the Academy Awards,” he said at one point. “It gets lousy ratings now. It’s all woke. All they do is talk about how much they hate Trump, but nobody likes that. They don’t watch anymore.” He talked repeatedly about the ratings he got when he hosted “The Apprentice.”
“I shouldn’t make this political,” he said at another point, “because they made the Academy Awards political, and they went down the tubes.”
Behind him were a series of easel-like stands, covered in red fabric. Two women in very high heels traipsed from stand to stand, Vanna White style, yanking off the fabric to show the faces of celebrity honorees. Each was picked by the president. “I was about 98 percent involved,” Mr. Trump said. “They all went through me.”
He added that he “turned down plenty” because “they were too woke. I had a couple of wokesters.”
The faces of the sufficiently unwoke were revealed.
Among them were the men of Kiss, the glam rock metal band known for the way the members do their makeup. “They made a fortune, and they’re great people, and they deserve it,” Mr. Trump said.
There was also Gloria Gaynor, a disco queen who sang “I Will Survive,” widely considered to be one of the most popular gay anthems of all time. “I will say, ‘I Will Survive’ is an unbelievable song,” Mr. Trump said. “I’ve heard it, you know, like everyone else here, thousands of times, and it’s one of those few that gets better every time you hear it.”
Sylvester Stallone’s mug was up there, too. Mr. Trump recalled the first time he saw the first “Rambo” movie, which came out in 1982. “I’ll never forget, I was a young guy, and I went to see a thing called ‘Rambo,’” he said. “It had just come out and I didn’t know anything about it. I was in a movie theater. We used to go to movie theaters a lot … .”
He referred to Mr. Stallone as “Sly” and called him a “legend of the silver screen.”
This was Mr. Trump’s third visit to the Kennedy Center since he took over in February. His second visit was in June, when he showed up to see a performance of one of his favorite plays, “Les Misérables.” He said he had a great time.
The first time he dropped by since taking over was in March, when he took a tour of the center and met with the new members of the board whom he had appointed. That day he told them that when he was a child he had shown a special aptitude for music. And he reminisced about going to see the premiere of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Cats” on Broadway in the early 1980s. “They were treating me good because I was a young star, for whatever reason,” he said then. “This is a crazy life I’ve had.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Shawn McCreesh is a White House reporter for The Times covering the Trump administration.
A version of this article appears in print on Aug. 14, 2025, Section A, Page 17 of the New York edition with the headline: Pop Culture Fanatic Relives the Glory Days, With Envy for Rambo and Kiss. Order Reprints | Today’s Paper
DOGE Gets Sensitive Data: An appeals court granted teams associated with the federal cost-cutting effort access to Americans’ data stored at the Treasury Department, the Education Department and the Office of Personnel Management.
"The man in the White House wants to “crack down” on crime in D.C.…cute. The audacity of sitting in the Oval Office with felony charges and thinking you can lecture anyone on “law and order.” This isn’t about safety — it’s about power, control, and distraction. If Trump cared about crime, he’d start by looking in the mirror."
In this incisive conversation, historian Gerald Horne responds to growing critiques of identity politics from sections of the Left. Is identity politics merely a ruling-class ideology? Does race-based politics distract from class struggle? Should reparations be abandoned in favor of “universalist” class demands?
We tackle these hard questions: Why many on the Left wrongly claim that Black identity politics lacks intellectual depth Whether the Democratic Party engineered identity politics to contain radical Black movements How reparations, anti-racist politics, and Black power remain vital tools of liberation Why calls for campaigns like Mamdani’s or DSA’s to "stick to class" often erase the lived realities of Black Americans And what a truly radical, anti-capitalist race-and-class politics might look like Gerald Horne brings historical clarity and revolutionary insight to challenge the idea that class and identity are mutually exclusive.
Dr. Gerald Horne: The Left, Class Collaboration, and The Origins of White Supremacy, What Blacks Need to Do Now with The Rise of Authoritarianism, The Origins of Black music and Organized Crime
ABOUT THE SPEAKER:
Gerald Horne is Moores Professor of History and African American Studies at the University of Houston, His scholarly research has addressed issues of racism in a variety of social and historical contexts involving labor, politics, civil rights, international relations and war. He has also written extensively about the film industry. Dr. Horne received his M.A. Phil. from Columbia University, Ph.D. in history from Columbia University and his J.D. from the University of California, Berkeley and his B.A. from Princeton University. A critically acclaimed scholar and writer Dr Horne has written 40 books and hundreds of essays and articles for a wide variety of magazines, newspapers, anthologies, and journals in not only the United States but Europe, Asia, Latin America, the Carribean, and Africa.
Selected Bibliography of books by Dr. Gerald Horne:
Black and Red: W.E.B. Du Bois and the Afro-American response to the Cold War. SUNY Press (1986)
Black Liberation/Red Scare: Ben Davis and the Communist Party. University of Delaware Press (1994)
Fire This Time: The Watts Uprising And The 1960s. Da Capo Press (1997)
From the Barrel of a Gun: The United States and the War against Zimbabwe, 1965-1980. University of North Carolina Press (2000)
Class Struggle in Hollywood, 1930-1950 : Moguls, Mobsters, Stars, Reds and Trade Unionists. University of Texas Press (2001)
Race Woman: The Lives of Shirley Graham Du Bois. NYU Press (2002)
Black and Brown: African Americans and the Mexican Revolution, 1910-1920. NYU Press (2005)
Race War!: White Supremacy and the Japanese Attack on the British Empire. NYU Press (2005)
The Final Victim of the Blacklist: John Howard Lawson, Dean of the Hollywood Ten. University of California Press (2006)
The White Pacific: U.S. Imperialism and Black Slavery in the South Seas After the Civil War. University of Hawaii Press (2007)
The Deepest South: The United States, Brazil, and the African Slave Trade. NYU Press (2007)
Blows Against the Empire: U.S. Imperialism in Crisis. International Publishers (2008)
Red Seas: Ferdinand Smith and Radical Black Sailors in the United States and Jamaica. NYU Press (2009)
Mau Mau in Harlem?: The U.S. and the Liberation of Kenya. Palgrave MacMillan (2009)
The Color of Fascism: Lawrence Dennis, Racial Passing, and the Rise of Right-Wing Extremism in the United States. NYU Press (2009)
W.E.B. Du Bois: A Biography. Greenwood (2009)
The End of Empires: African Americans and India. Temple University Press (2009)
Negro Comrades of the Crown: African Americans and the British Empire Fight the U.S. Before Emancipation. NYU Press (2013)
Black Revolutionary: William Patterson & the Globalization of the African American Freedom Struggle. University of Illinois Press (2013)
The Counter-Revolution of 1776: Slave Resistance and the Origins of the United States of America. NYU Press (2014)
Race to Revolution: The U.S. and Cuba during Slavery and Jim Crow. Monthly Review Press (2014)
Confronting Black Jacobins: The U.S., the Haitian Revolution and the Origins of the Dominican Republic. Monthly Review Press (2015)
Paul Robeson: The Artist as Revolutionary. Pluto Press (2016)
The Rise and Fall of the Associated Negro Press: Claude Albert Barnett's Pan-African News and the Jim Crow Paradox. University of Illinois Press (2017)
Storming the Heavens: African Americans and the Early Struggle for the Right to Fly. Black Classic Press (2017)
Facing the Rising Sun: African Americans, Japan the Rise of Afro-Asian Solidarity. NYU Press (2018)
The Apocalypse of Settler Colonialism: The Roots of Slavery, White Supremacy and Capitalism in Seventeenth Century North America and the Caribbean. Monthly Review Press (2018)
Jazz and Justice: Racism and the Political Economy of the Music. Monthly Review Press (2019)
White Supremacy Confronted: U.S. Imperialism and Anti-Communism vs. the Liberation of Southern Africa from Rhodes to Mandela. International Publishers (2019)
The Dawning of the Apocalypse: The Roots of Slavery, White Supremacy, Settler Colonialism, and Capitalism in the Long Sixteenth Century. Monthly Review Press (2020)
Sweet Science: Racism, Racketeering, and the Political Economy of Boxing. International Publishers (2020)
Cold War in a Hot Zone: The United States Confronts Labor and Independence Struggles in the British West Indies (2007)
Black and Red: W.E.B. Du Bois and the Afro-American Response to the Cold War. SUNY Press (1986)
Communist Front? The Civil Rights Congress, 1946-1956. Farleigh Dickinson University Press (1987)
Black Liberation/Red Scare: Ben Davis and the Communist Party. University of Delaware Press (1994)
Fire This Time: The Watts Uprising And The 1960s. Da Capo Press (1997)
From the Barrel of a Gun: The United States and the War against Zimbabwe, 1965-1980. University of North Carolina Press (2000)
Class Struggle in Hollywood, 1930-1950 : Moguls, Mobsters, Stars, Reds and Trade Unionists. University of Texas Press (2001) Race Woman: The Lives of Shirley Graham Du Bois. NYU Press (2002)
Black and Brown: African Americans and the Mexican Revolution, 1910-1920. NYU Press (2005)
Race War!: White Supremacy and the Japanese Attack on the British Empire. NYU Press (2005)
The Final Victim of the Blacklist: John Howard Lawson, Dean of the Hollywood Ten. University of California Press (2006)
The White Pacific: U.S. Imperialism and Black Slavery in the South Seas After the Civil War. University of Hawaii Press (2007)
The Deepest South: The United States, Brazil, and the African Slave Trade. NYU Press (2007)
Blows Against the Empire: U.S. Imperialism in Crisis. International Publishers (2008)
Red Seas: Ferdinand Smith and Radical Black Sailors in the United States and Jamaica. NYU Press (2009)
Mau Mau in Harlem?: The U.S. and the Liberation of Kenya. Palgrave MacMillan (2009)
The Color of Fascism: Lawrence Dennis, Racial Passing, and the Rise of Right-Wing Extremism in the United States. NYU Press (2009) W.E.B. Du Bois: A Biography. Greenwood Press (2009)
The End of Empires: African Americans and India. Temple University Press (2009)
Fighting in Paradise: Labor Unions, Racism, and Communists in the Making of Modern Hawaii. University of Hawaii Press. (2011)
Negro Comrades of the Crown: African Americans and the British Empire Fight the U.S. Before Emancipation. NYU Press. (2013)
Black Revolutionary: William Patterson & the Globalization of the African American Freedom Struggle. University of Illinois Press (2013)
The Counter-Revolution of 1776: Slave Resistance and the Origins of the United States of America. NYU Press (2014)
Race to Revolution: The U.S. and Cuba during Slavery and Jim Crow. Monthly Review Press (2014)
Confronting Black Jacobins: The U.S., the Haitian Revolution and the Origins of the Dominican Republic (2015)
Paul Robeson: The Artist as Revolutionary (2016)
The Rise and Fall of the Associated Negro Press: Claude Barnett's Pan-African News and the Jim Crow Paradox 2017)
Storming the Heavens: African Americans and the Early Struggle for the Right to Fly (2017)
Facing the Rising Sun: African Americans, Japan the Rise of Afro-Asian Solidarity (2018)
The Apocalypse of Settler Colonialism: The Roots of Slavery, White Supremacy and Capitalism in Seventeenth Century North America and the Caribbean (2018)
Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist Chris Hedges joins India & Global Left to break down the moral and political crisis of our time. We discuss: The deeper meaning of Trump’s rise U.S. complicity in Israel’s war on Palestine The real motives behind U.S. policy on Iran The Jeffrey Epstein case and elite impunity And how the corporate media has failed the public This is a sweeping conversation about empire, resistance, and the cost of silence.
BigTentUSA hosted civic strategist and former Georgia State Representative Stacey Abrams, and renowned historian Heather Cox Richardson for a conversation moderated by well known journalist Kimberly Atkins Stohr. Their powerful discussion focused on how the Trump administration & MAGA reveal a coordinated plan to undermine democratic norms, and how we can fight back. See below for links to items discussed on the zoom.
ABOUT THE SPEAKERS:
STACEY ABRAMS is a political leader, business owner and New York Times bestselling author. A tax attorney by training, Abrams served eleven years in the Georgia House of Representatives, seven as Minority Leader, and became the Democratic nominee for governor of Georgia in 2018 and 2022. Over the course of her career, she has launched multiple organizations devoted to democracy protection, voter engagement, tackling social issues, and building a more equitable future in the South. Committed to the pursuit of equity, she works to break barriers for young people, people of color and the marginalized through her work in the public, nonprofit and corporate sectors.
HEATHER COX RICHARDSON is a renowned historian, writing widely about Reconstruction, the Civil War, and the history of the Republican Party. She is the author of seven books including, most recently, Democracy Awakening, as well as the award-winning How the South Won the Civil War: Oligarchy, Democracy, and the Continuing Fight for the Soul of America. She writes the popular newsletter, Letters from an American, a daily chronicle of the history behind American politics.
KIMBERLY ATKINS STOHR is a senior opinion writer and columnist at The Boston Globe. She is also an MSNBC contributor, a frequent panelist on NBC’s “Meet the Press,” and co-host of the weekly Politicon legal news podcast #SistersInLaw.
Previously, Kim was the inaugural columnist for The Emancipator, a collaboration between The Boston Globe and Boston University’s Center for Antiracist Research that reframes the conversation about racial justice and equality.
Brittney Leeanne Williams, Inner Storm 2: Spiraling, 2022. Courtesy of the artist and Alexander Berggruen, NY. In building a politics to fight the right, economic populism is necessary but insufficient. Policies and rhetoric framed in the interests of the working class as a whole are crucial. But organizers have always known that in order to build a movement, you need to address specific yet important concerns that affect only some parts of your coalition while also speaking to the issues shared by everyone you want to draw into your base. Because the U.S. working class is already segmented, an emancipatory class politics that can beat the right must do both.
But recent conventional wisdom says otherwise.
In the wake of Kamala Harris’s catastrophic loss to Donald Trump in the 2024 presidential election, a narrative has taken hold: “Woke” costs elections. Only by abandoning so-called identity politics or issues specific to minorities will the left win working-class voters back.
This war on identity has powerful proponents across the political spectrum, including the tech billionaires Marc Andreessen, Elon Musk, and Peter Thiel, who continue to pour millions of dollars into initiatives aimed at destroying the causes they deem woke or antiracist. Even prominent centrists like The New York Times editorial board joined the right-wing activist Christopher Rufo’s side of the culture war when it recently complained that the Democratic Party “remains too focused on personal identity and on Americans’ differences — by race, gender, sexuality and religion — rather than our shared values.”
Instead, economic populism has emerged as a compelling alternative. On the left, some argue that economic populism is the only grounds for building a working-class movement that can reverse class dealignment. In this view, the left should simply pursue a politics of class while identity issues, such as immigration, gender, race, and sexuality, should be downplayed in political organizing. Others go further and treat conservative views on those topics as working-class majority views that the left must learn to embrace.
But this new common sense contradicts reality. Setting forms of identity, such as race, against class as fundamentally opposed bases of politics misrepresents how building working-class power works on the ground, both today and throughout history. Dismissing the social differences between working-class people as irrelevant ignores the key building blocks of class politics. And a left that embraces the right’s divide-and-conquer rhetoric on criminal justice, gender, race, and immigration will only deepen political divisions within the working class. Subscribing to either view would doom the working-class solidarity needed to win.
When it comes to building a working-class politics against the right, the stakes couldn’t be higher. Either we construct the solidarity needed to dismantle the political oligarchy and achieve the massive redistribution that the 99 percent needs, or our country will continue to slide into an authoritarianism that scapegoats the most precarious members of the working class.
A closer look at the democratic socialist Zohran Mamdani’s extraordinary victory over Andrew Cuomo in New York City’s Democratic mayoral primary shows how economic populism works best when combined with targeted appeals. Some have held up Mamdani’s win as vindication of the view that economic populism alone gets the goods, but he built a campaign on listening and meeting voters where they are. After his success in the primary, he told New York magazine, “We have tried to listen more and lecture less, and it’s in those very conversations that I had with Democrats who voted for Donald Trump many months ago that I heard what it would take to bring them back to the Democratic Party — that it would be a relentless focus on an economic agenda.” It’s true his campaign foregrounded bread-and-butter issues, but not at the exclusion of other aspects of working people’s lives that matter to them.
Though Mamdani leads with the cost of living and uses plain, sensible language, his platform also includes positions on particular sectors of the working class and the unique problems they face. He has been a principled voice of opposition against the genocide in Gaza, has vowed to oppose ICE, and celebrates his status as an immigrant and a South Asian. On policing and public safety, while he distanced himself from unpopular rhetoric such as “defund the police” on the campaign trail, he offered restorative justice proposals, including expanding non-police social workers to intervene in crises, providing mental health services, and ending Mayor Eric Adams’s plan to build a $225 million “cop city” in Queens. He invited people into his coalition by recognizing LGBTQIA+ New Yorkers; appealing to Haitian New Yorkers by calling Haiti its Creole name, Ayiti; and speaking to the particular experiences of Bangladeshi aunties, who turned out to be a powerful organizing force for his campaign. These complexities don’t fit easily into the economic populist playbook, and upend the view that working people have conservative cultural values that the left needs to defer to.
Mamdani’s campaign shows that working-class politics always relates to the ways people’s particular experiences move them to fight. The idea that workers simply have a one-dimensional set of interchangeable class interests that motivate them and that politicians can activate with the correct message deals in what Stuart Hall termed “low-flying economism masquerading as ‘materialism.’” The reality is that working-class political action always develops out of the intersecting forces, interests, and identities of the working class itself and cannot be activated or imposed from above. People don’t merely show up to a protest against ICE because they are immigrants themselves. They may be there because they have undocumented people in their personal networks or simply want to express solidarity for a group they feel is being treated unfairly. People voted for Mamdani not only because he promises to lower the cost of living in New York but also because particular aspects of his platform, targeted at subgroups such as parents who cannot afford child care, either benefit them personally or are things they believe in. Emancipatory working-class politics is about both what is good for workers and also what is good in general.
There are versions of the view that identity politics is a distraction from the real class struggle on both the left and on the right. A closer look shows that perspective is based on simplistic and distorting characterizations of working-class people and their interests, an error my colleague Mathieu Desan and I call class abstractionism.
The core claims of this view of the working class are: Everyone requires a basic set of material needs — housing, health care, and food — to live. In capitalist society, most people work for an employer to acquire these core goods. Capitalists depend on workers but have an interest in minimizing the wages and benefits they give their workers in order to increase profits. So far, so good, but here is the twist: Class is therefore more important than non-class social factors, including race, because it alone directly governs workers’ material well-being. Both capitalists and workers understand their antagonistic interests, and that understanding shapes them as political actors. Identity categories such as race occlude these core relations because they form social bases to organize politically that are distinct from class. The argument is that you can organize on the basis of class or race — the two do not overlap.
That leads to an important strategic upshot. The working class is the only group able to challenge the power of capitalists because its members make up the majority of society and, because of their unique role in production, can shut the system down by withholding labor. They have both the numbers and the leverage. Again, so far, so good, but class abstractionists further argue that that makes identity-based movements within the working class distractions from working-class politics at large because, as one commenter puts it, they are not “the central and the key players in this society that can bring the kind of changes we need.” Only a working-class majority can win, and to the extent that minorities are part of that majority, they need to subsume their own interests into those of the whole.
But this claim is absurd when set against demographic and historical facts. First, even within a working-class majority, it is always a minority of workers who are involved in major labor actions and strikes. The working class never acts as a whole; it isn’t a unitary bloc. Second, subgroups within the working class organize along non-class lines regularly and have dramatically changed history — see the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965.
More broadly, many aspects of how working people’s lives are structured beyond the worker-employer relation determine what they do to survive and therefore how they see their own material interests. This is obvious for Black politics. Consider, for instance, the greater historic risk of Black people dying of tuberculosis in the U.S. because of racial segregation. Or the stress and physical pain of social alienation caused by persistent racial dehumanization. Or the psychic burden of the double consciousness described by W. E. B. Du Bois that results from pervasive discrimination. Or the anxiety produced by the increased surveillance and hostile interactions with law enforcement a poor Black neighborhood endures. Or the difficulty in navigating labor or housing markets because of racism or fewer personal and familial networks to draw upon. The list goes on. The key point is that all of these factors shape what people have to do to get by and therefore their material interests. In New York, the Black teenager who regularly gets stopped and frisked by the police on the way to his underfunded public high school doesn’t merely have interests as a worker.
The wealth of elites can afford them the ability to transcend any hardships that might be particular to their demographic group, allowing them to have a laser focus on amassing more money and prestige. But working-class people aren’t defined only by the burden of capitalists gaining more and more at their expense; a wide range of things matter to them, too, and some are specific to their sectors of the working class. The fruit picker in California’s Central Valley is not only exploited by the Trump-voting farmer who withholds wages but also is dominated by the ICE agents stalking him through the fields.
What does this mean for working-class politics? First, workers come to redistributive and egalitarian projects through both class and non-class appeals. In the workplace, they do not form unions and withdraw their labor in protest only as workers but also as Democrats or Republicans, immigrants or citizens, free or incarcerated, straight or queer, Christians or Muslims, women or men, white people or Black people. The hard work of organizing involves creating shared goals that can speak to different needs, as well as acts of solidarity in which some segments of workers defend others, thereby creating the social context for broader collective action. It means building a view of what is good in general, not just what is good for an individual. The Knights of Labor slogan, which the organization sometimes struggled to live up to, captures it best: “An injury to one is the concern of all.”
Second, working-class politics develops and forms in all the places working-class people live, breathe, and form attachments, needs, and grievances, including outside the workplace. Look at organizing among Black prisoners led by working-class Black women connected to the carceral state through their families. The existence of Mothers Reclaiming Our Children, Black Mamas Bail Out Action, and similar organizations shows that the issues workers fight for reflect their distinct positions in an overlapping set of material relations. This is precisely why, as the criminologist Beth Richie writes, “in the realm of issues related to incarceration, women have assumed key leadership positions, advocating for critical resistance to the prison-industrial complex, sentencing reform, a moratorium on the death penalty, and the development of alternative sanctions,” even when these are not narrowly understood as women’s issues or working-class issues.
The abstract class structure does not determine the form working-class politics takes. Anyone interested in the future of working-class politics needs to consider non-class social structures, such as race, gender, citizenship, and place — what are dismissed as identity issues in U.S. politics — not as distractions but as building blocks. The working class as an organizational and political force has always been assembled out of those segments.
As capitalism develops, it generates social differentiation within the working class itself. Competition between firms and workers creates uneven development both within and between places. Profit-driven competition does not raise all boats; some places receive more investment while others are starved. Similar to the way a city can have both food deserts and extraordinary food waste, the working class encompasses credentialed workers who have job protections and good wages, people in rural and urban areas with concentrated poverty whose work is poorly paid and precarious, and undocumented workers in the shadows earning below the minimum wage because of their citizenship status.
Class struggles that emerge from working-class communities where there are already strong communal bonds tend to be more effective. Capitalism doesn’t simply dissolve such bonds, leaving unorganized workers atomized; it also produces them or builds them anew. It segments the working class into subgroups with their own subcultures. This differentiation makes non-class identities such as race central to class politics. This is our basic reality. Working-class politics always starts with an already differentiated working class that is mobilized around different collective concerns.
It is also why building solidarity across social differences both at the workplace and beyond, where people have competing material grievances, is so hard. The challenge is exponentially harder at the national level. And it is even more precarious as an international project, as we see today, when some segments of the working class embrace immigration restrictions while others protest the armed forces defending ICE raids. Segments of the working class are often involved in opposing political projects that self-serving politicians across the political spectrum claim to be in their class interests.
It is no surprise that in the wake of the 2008 financial crisis and the wave of foreclosures that disproportionately devastated Black and Latino working-class neighborhoods the collective political struggles springing up from working-class Black neighborhoods were articulated as Black struggles. These poor people’s movements took the form of a radical refusal not of work but of civil order. It was not a movement of workers in the workplace via strikes but rather, because of residential segregation and concentrated unemployment, a movement of workers in the streets via protests. Black politics was the form this class struggle took before political entrepreneurs, corporate boards, and diversity officers claimed the movement as their own.
Politicians using economic populist or class rhetoric don’t create working-class politics; at their best, they help assemble it. Class politics always arises out of the identities and bonds people have already formed, which is precisely why successful left politicians need multidimensional platforms.
Nowhere is the dynamic view of class more explicit than in the work of Du Bois. In his 1935 masterpiece, Black Reconstruction in America 1860–1880, he gives an account of the democratic revolution of enslaved Black people and the counterrevolution of property as one of class struggle, domination, and divisions, expressed in racial terms. Du Bois explains the mass exodus of former slaves from Southern plantations during the Civil War as a general strike, in which Black power was class power. But the book is titled Black Reconstruction rather than Working-Class Reconstruction because it tells the history of poor and disenfranchised Black people liberating themselves and then seeing their gains ripped away. The bourgeois counterrevolution of the Southern planter class allied with Northern manufacturing, with the Southern white worker as junior partner, to crush the nascent Southern democracy by stripping away Black people’s newly won right to vote and destroying their organizations with racial terror. Du Bois writes, “The slave went free; stood for a brief moment in the sun, then moved back again toward slavery,” thanks to capital’s offensive and white workers’ failure to pursue working-class solidarity.
Earlier, in 1933, Du Bois wrote, “There is not at present the slightest indication that a Marxian revolution based on a united class-conscious proletariat is anywhere on the American far horizon. Rather race antagonism and labor group rivalry is still undisturbed by world catastrophe. In the hearts of black laborers alone, therefore, lie those ideals of democracy in politics and industry which may in time make the workers of the world effective dictators of civilization.” Du Bois’s claim is that it is through the unique political agency of the Black working class that America might move toward genuine interracial solidarity.
Many other Black socialists also understood Black people’s struggle for democratic rights as central to the working-class struggle. In 1948 the Trinidadian revolutionary C. L. R. James clearly centered Black agency, pointing out that the Black struggle of the emergent civil rights movement “has a vitality and a validity of its own” with “roots in the past of America” that give it “an organic political perspective” that “is in itself a constituent part of the struggle for socialism.”
The dynamic perspectives of Du Bois and James emphasize the way that working-class politics emerge out of particular historical moments by particular subsections of the working class itself — and not always under the banner of “workers.” They understood the working class as segmented and their unity as potential rather than given. When movements and organizers lose sight of the reality of working-class differentiation, solidarity has no ground to stand on.
The socialist movement in the U.S. had to learn this lesson early in the 20th century. At the Socialist Party’s founding convention in Indianapolis in 1901, members adopted a “Negro Resolution” that acknowledged the “peculiar position” of Black workers. Yet the resolution offered nothing more than an invitation to Black workers to join the party, asserting, “We declare to the negro worker the identity of his interests and struggles with the interests and struggles of the workers of all lands, without regard to race, or color, or sectional lines.” Socialist Party members pushed to remove a clause from the resolution recognizing Black people’s political disenfranchisement and subjection to lynching terror, instead opting to emphasize the homogeneity of the working class, declaring that “the only line of division which exists in fact is that between the producers and the owners of the world.”
There were real racists in the party, such as the founding party member Victor Berger, the first socialist elected to Congress. But the majority view within the Socialist Party was that Black people in America needed no special place on the party’s founding platform because Black working-class people were already part of that class and therefore entirely equal. Eugene Debs raged against the “savory bouquet of white superiority” and cancelled a 1912 speaking tour of the South in protest of segregation. Yet even Debs said “the class struggle is colorless” and supported the repeal of Socialist Party resolutions on the “Negro question” on the grounds that “we have nothing special to offer the Negro, and we cannot make separate appeals to all the races.” In 1913, Du Bois argued that “the Negro Problem” is “the great test of the American Socialist.” What history shows ever since is that the class struggle is colorful.
There are, of course, far darker moments in the U.S. labor movement. Working-class politics and organizing can just as easily turn reactionary. Consider the massacre of East St. Louis, Ill., where in 1917 as many as 200 Black workers and their family members were shot, burned, or hanged by mobs of raging white workers. Investigating the mass violence for The Crisis, Martha Gruening and Du Bois homed in on the cause: Strikes of the relatively unskilled all-white manufacturing unions were being weakened by Black strikebreakers, who had recently migrated in the thousands from the South. Instead of organizing with them — an idea that was beyond the pale for the union — white workers opted for a murderous race riot. Of the union’s motto, “Labor conquers everything,” Du Bois wrote, “In East St. Louis it has conquered Liberty, Justice, Mercy, Law and the Democracy which is a nation’s vaunt.”
But socialism and labor in the U.S. have seen more than just missteps and massacres; an intertwining current of interracial solidarity also runs through their histories. In 1921, at Vladimir Lenin’s urging, the Communist Party USA explicitly recognized the special character of Black oppression in America, acknowledging that “the history of the Southern Negro is the history of a reign of terror — of persecution, rape and murder.” The party program pledged, “The Workers Party will support the Negroes in their struggle for Liberation, and will help them in their fight for economic, political and social equality.” It continued, “Its task will be to destroy altogether the barrier of race prejudice that has been used to keep apart the Black and white workers, and bind them into a solid union of revolutionary forces for the overthrow of our common enemy.” During the Great Depression, Black workers in both the North and the South joined the Communist Party in far greater numbers than they did the Socialist Party.
When the communists soon began to organize explicitly around struggles particular to Black people, such as the wrongful conviction of the Scottsboro Boys, their Black working-class membership grew. Robin D. G. Kelley’s Hammer and Hoe shows that in the early 1930s, Black membership in the Alabama Communist Party grew even more rapidly than white membership. The interracial solidarity of Reds in the workplace in turn helped to fuel the grassroots organizing that injected the CIO with militancy, leading to a major upsurge in labor organizing and an increase in union density. Despite the New Deal’s racial shortfalls, as a whole it established crucial labor provisions that were a direct result of this interracial solidarity.
After the Taft-Hartley Act of 1947 demanded labor leaders submit affidavits disavowing communism and the Red Scare took hold, communists — many of them Black — were purged from American unions. The result was that many unions shifted into business unionism, weakening their militancy and inroads into interracial solidarity.
Class abstractionists view class politics and racial politics as mutually exclusive and competing alternatives when it comes to organizing. In reality, class struggles and antiracist struggles often feed into each other. As the labor scholar Cedric De Leon argues, Black working-class organizations played the driving role in desegregating the American labor movement. A. Philip Randolph helped create the Negro American Labor Council to fight against segregation when the AFL-CIO refused to desegregate its own unions. Work from the sociologist Matthew Nichter shows that many of the communists and socialists trained in the interracial labor organizing of the 1930s and 1940s became leaders of the civil rights movement in the 1950s and 1960s. In turn, the civil rights movement revitalized American labor militancy in the 1960s and 1970s. Continuing the pattern of one feeding into the other, following a series of labor strikes demanding hazard pay and coronavirus protections, the Black Lives Matter protests of 2020 led to new workplace organizing over the past five years. Working-class fights at work were triggered by Black struggles in the streets, and vice versa.
Through the lens of Black socialists like Du Bois, we understand that the working class is not an undifferentiated mass with a one-dimensional set of interests located in the employer-worker relation. Competition in the labor market, which pits workers against one another and divides working people into segments, makes solidarity across the workplace and beyond it the fundamental key to building a working-class politics that can ratchet up to the level of a national and international political project.
Working-class solidarity is cleareyed about these divisions and the different conditions they produce for the separate segments of the class. They cannot be papered over with empty theoretical abstractions. This is a challenge for working-class politics that nobody understands better than Steve Bannon and other economic populists on the right who manipulate insider-outsider divisions among the working class to build their own coalitions. When Trump described immigrants as “poisoning the blood of our country,” he was framing his populism around the idea that there are good and bad workers. The right is undeniably practicing identity politics. An economic populism of the left that wishes such differences away will have only weak grounds for building a coalition.
Karl Marx himself came to similar conclusions. In an 1870 letter to America, he compared intra-class divisions between poor white workers and Black workers there to the divisions between Irish workers and English workers: “Every industrial and commercial centre in England now possesses a working class divided into two hostile camps, English proletarians and Irish proletarians. The ordinary English worker hates the Irish worker as a competitor who lowers his standard of life.” He continued, “This antagonism is the secret of the impotence of the English working class, despite its organisation. It is the secret by which the capitalist class maintains its power.” Working-class power in England had to be forged through solidarity, he argued, and the work had to be done by the workers themselves, because “the national emancipation of Ireland is not a question of abstract justice or humanitarian sentiment but the first condition of their own social emancipation.”
What is the future of working-class politics in America? Either organizers in the workplace and community and politicians on the campaign trail and in Congress build a project that links the distinct segments of the working-class together in solidarity through both economic populism and targeted appeals, or the fascists will win.
DOGE Gets Sensitive Data: An appeals court granted teams associated with the federal cost-cutting effort access to Americans’ data stored at the Treasury Department, the Education Department and the Office of Personnel Management.
"I'm for truth, no matter who tells it. I'm for justice, no matter who it's for or against."
W.E.B. DuBois (1868-1963)
"There is but one coward on earth, and that is the coward that dare not know."
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. (1929-1968)
"Change does not roll in on the wheels of inevitability, but comes through continuous struggle. And so we must straighten our backs and work for our freedom. A man can't ride you unless your back is bent. "
James Baldwin (1924-1987)
"Precisely at the point when you begin to develop a conscience you must find yourself at war with your society."
Aimé Césaire (1913-2008)
"A civilization that proves incapable of solving the problems it creates is a decadent civilization. A civilization that chooses to close its eyes to its most crucial problems is a stricken civilization. A civilization that uses its principles for trickery and deceit is a dying civilization."
Nina Simone (1933-2003)
"There's no other purpose, so far as I'm concerned, for us except to reflect the times, the situations around us and the things we're able to say through our art, the things that millions of people can't say. I think that's the function of an artist and, of course, those of us who are lucky leave a legacy so that when we're dead, we also live on. That's people like Billie Holiday and I hope that I will be that lucky, but meanwhile, the function, so far as I'm concerned, is to reflect the times, whatever that might be."
Amilcar Cabral (1924-1973)
"Always bear in mind that the people are not fighting for ideas, for the things in anyone's head. They are fighting to live better and in peace, to see their lives go forward, to guarantee the future of their children ....Hide nothing from the masses of our people. Tell no lies. Expose lies whenever they are told. Mask no difficulties, mistakes, failures. Claim no easy victories..." .
Angela Davis (b. 1944)
"The idea of freedom is inspiring. But what does it mean? If you are free in a political sense but have no food, what's that? The freedom to starve?”
Duke Ellington (1899-1974)
“Jazz is the freest musical expression we have yet seen. To me, then, jazz means simply freedom of musical speech! And it is precisely because of this freedom that so many varied forms of jazz exist. The important thing to remember, however, is that not one of these forms represents jazz by itself. Jazz simply means the freedom to have many forms.”
Amiri Baraka (1934-2014)
"Thought is more important than art. To revere art and have no understanding of the process that forces it into existence, is finally not even to understand what art is."
Frederick Douglass (1817-1895)
"Power concedes nothing without a demand. It never did and it never will. Find out just what any people will quietly submit to and you have found out the exact measure of injustice and wrong which will be imposed upon them, and these will continue till they are resisted with either words or blows, or both. The limits of tyrants are prescribed by the endurance of those whom they oppress.” --August 3, 1857
Cecil Taylor (1929-2018)
“Musical categories don’t mean anything unless we talk about the actual specific acts that people go through to make music, how one speaks, dances, dresses, moves, thinks, makes love...all these things. We begin with a sound and then say, what is the function of that sound, what is determining the procedures of that sound? Then we can talk about how it motivates or regenerates itself, and that’s where we have tradition.”
Ella Baker (1903-1986)
"Strong people don't need strong leaders"
Paul Robeson (1898-1976)
"The artist must take sides. He must elect to fight for freedom or for slavery. I have made my choice. I had no alternative."
John Coltrane (1926-1967)
"I want to be a force for real good. In other words, I know there are bad forces. I know that there are forces out here that bring suffering to others and misery to the world, but I want to be the opposite force. I want to be the force which is truly for good."
Miles Davis (1926-1991)
"Jazz is the big brother of Revolution. Revolution follows it around."
C.L.R. James (1901-1989)
"All development takes place by means of self-movement, not organization by external forces. It is within the organism itself (i.e. within the society) that there must be realized new motives, new possibilities."
Frantz Fanon (1925-1961)
"Now, political education means opening minds, awakening them, and allowing the birth of their intelligence as [Aime] Cesaire said, it is 'to invent souls.' To educate the masses politically does not mean, cannot mean, making a political speech. What it means is to try, relentlessly and passionately, to teach the masses that everything depends on them."
Edward Said (1935-2003)
“I take criticism so seriously as to believe that, even in the midst of a battle in which one is unmistakably on one side against another, there should be criticism, because there must be critical consciousness if there are to be issues, problems, values, even lives to be fought for."
Antonio Gramsci (1891-1937)
“The challenge of modernity is to live without illusions and without becoming disillusioned. There must be pessimism of the intellect and optimism of the will.”
Susan Sontag (1933-2004)
"Do stuff. Be clenched, curious. Not waiting for inspiration’s shove or society’s kiss on your forehead. Pay attention. It’s all about paying attention. Attention is vitality. It connects you with others. It makes you eager. Stay eager."
Kofi Natambu, editor of The Panopticon Review, is a writer, poet, cultural critic, and political journalist whose poetry, essays, criticism, reviews, and journalism have appeared in many literary magazines, journals, newspapers, and anthologies. He is the author of a biography MALCOLM X: His Life & Work (Alpha Books) and two books of poetry: THE MELODY NEVER STOPS (Past Tents Press) and INTERVALS (Post Aesthetic Press). He was the founder and editor of SOLID GROUND: A NEW WORLD JOURNAL, a national quarterly magazine of the arts, culture, and politics and the editor of a literary anthology NOSTALGIA FOR THE PRESENT (Post Aesthetic Press). Natambu has read his work throughout the country and given many lectures and workshops at academic and arts institutions. He has taught American literature, literary theory and criticism, cultural history and criticism, film studies, political science, creative writing, philosophy, critical theory, and music history and criticism (Jazz, Blues, R&B, Hip Hop) at many universities and colleges. He was also a curator in the Education Department of Detroit’s Museum of African American History. Born in Detroit, Michigan, Natambu currently lives in Berkeley, California with his wife Chuleenan.
