But politicians’ exploitation of communal divides is by no means the only reason that fascism has arrived on our shores.
Over the past fifty years, ordinary citizens’ modest hopes for lives of dignity, security, and relief from abject poverty have been systematically snuffed out. Every “democratic” institution in this country has shown itself to be unaccountable, inaccessible to the ordinary citizen, and either unwilling or incapable of acting in the interests of genuine social justice. Every strategy for real social change—land reform, education, public health, the equitable distribution of natural resources, the implementation of positive discrimination—has been cleverly, cunningly, and consistently scuttled and rendered ineffectual by those castes and that class of people which have a stranglehold on the political process. And now corporate globalization is being relentlessly and arbitrarily imposed on an essentially feudal society, tearing through its complex, tiered social fabric, ripping it apart culturally and economically.
There is very real grievance here. And the fascists didn’t create it. But they have seized upon it, upturned it, and forged from it a hideous, bogus sense of pride. They have mobilized human beings using the lowest common denominator—religion. People who have lost control over their lives, people who have been uprooted from their homes and communities, who have lost their culture and their language, are being made to feel proud of something. Not something they have striven for and achieved, not something they can count as a personal accomplishment, but something they just happen to be. Or, more accurately, something they happen not to be. And the falseness, the emptiness, of that pride is fueling a gladiatorial anger that is then directed toward a simulated target that has been wheeled into the amphitheater.
How else can you explain the project of trying to disenfranchise, drive out, or exterminate the second-poorest community in this country, using as your foot soldiers the very poorest (Dalits and Adivasis)? How else can you explain why Dalits in Gujarat, who have been despised, oppressed, and treated worse than refuse by the upper castes for thousands of years, have joined hands with their oppressors to turn on those who are only marginally less unfortunate than they themselves? Are they just wage slaves, mercenaries for hire? Is it all right to patronize them and absolve them of responsibility for their own actions? Or am I being obtuse? Perhaps it’s common practice for the unfortunate to vent their rage and hatred on the next most unfortunate, because their real adversaries are inaccessible, seemingly invincible, and completely out of range. Because their own leaders have cut loose and are feasting at the high table, leaving them to wander rudderless in the wilderness, spouting nonsense about returning to the Hindu fold. (The first step, presumably, toward founding a global Hindu empire, as realistic a goal as fascism’s previously failed projects—the restoration of Roman glory, the purification of the German race, or the establishment of an Islamic sultanate.)
One hundred thirty million Muslims live in India.46 Hindu fascists regard them as legitimate prey. Do people like Modi and Bal Thackeray think that the world will stand by and watch while they’re liquidated in a “civil war”? Press reports say that the European Union and several other countries have condemned what happened in Gujarat and likened it to Nazi rule.47 The Indian government’s portentous response is that foreigners should not use the Indian media to comment on what is an “internal matter” (like the chilling goings-on in Kashmir?).48 What next? Censorship? Closing down the Internet? Blocking international calls? Killing the wrong “terrorists” and fudging the DNA samples? There is no terrorism like state terrorism.
But who will take them on? Their fascist cant can perhaps be dented by some blood and thunder from the Opposition. So far only Laloo Yadav, head of the Rashtriya Janata Dal (RJD), the National People’s Party, in Bihar, has shown himself to be truly passionate: “Kaun mai ka lal kehtha hai ki yeh Hindu Rashtra hai? Usko yahan bhej do, chhaahti phad doonga!” (Which mother’s son says this is a Hindu Nation? Send him here, I’ll tear his chest open).49
Unfortunately, there’s no quick fix. Fascism itself can only be turned away if all those who are outraged by it show a commitment to social justice that equals the intensity of their indignation.
Are we ready to get off our starting blocks? Are we ready, many millions of us, to rally, not just on the streets but at work and in schools and in our homes, in every decision we take, and every choice we make?
Or not just yet . . . ?
If not, then years from now, when the rest of the world has shunned us (as it should), we too will learn, like the ordinary citizens of Hitler’s Germany, to recognize revulsion in the gaze of our fellow human beings. We too will find ourselves unable to look our own children in the eye, for the shame of what we did and didn’t do. For the shame of what we allowed to happen.
This is us. In India. Heaven help us make it through the night.
3. When the Saints Go Marching Out
The Strange Fate of Martin, Mohandas, and Mandela
Expanded version of essay originally broadcasted by BBC Radio 4, August 25, 2003.
We’re coming up to the fortieth anniversary of the March on Washington, when Martin Luther King Jr. gave his famous “I Have a Dream” speech. Perhaps it’s time to reflect—again—on what has become of that dream.
It’s interesting how icons, when their time has passed, are commodified and appropriated (some voluntarily, others involuntarily) to promote the prejudice, bigotry, and inequity they battled against. But then in an age when everything’s up for sale, why not icons? In an era when all of humanity, when every creature of God’s earth, is trapped between the IMF checkbook and the American cruise missile, can icons stage a getaway?
Martin Luther King is part of a trinity. So it’s hard to think of him without two others elbowing their way into the picture: Mohandas Gandhi and Nelson Mandela. The three high priests of nonviolent resistance. Together they represent (to a greater or lesser extent) the twentieth century’s nonviolent liberation struggles (or should we say “negotiated settlements”?): of colonized against colonizer, former slave against slave owner.
Today the elites of the very societies and peoples in whose name the battles for freedom were waged use them as mascots to entice new masters.
Mohandas, Mandela, Martin.
India, South Africa, the United States.
Broken dreams, betrayal, nightmares.
A quick snapshot of the supposedly “Free World” today.
Last March in India, in Gujarat—Gandhi’s Gujarat—right-wing Hindu mobs murdered two thousand Muslims in a chillingly efficient orgy of violence. Women were gang-raped and burned alive. Muslim tombs and shrines were razed to the ground. More than a hundred fifty thousand Muslims have been driven from their homes. The economic base of the community has been destroyed. Eyewitness accounts and several fact-finding commissions have accused the state government and the police of collusion in the violence.1 I was present at a meeting where a group of victims kept wailing, “Please save us from the police! That’s all we ask . . .”
In December 2002, the same state government was voted back to office. Narendra Modi, who was widely accused of having orchestrated the riots, has embarked on his second term as Chief Minister of Gujarat. On August 15, 2003, Independence Day, he hoisted the Indian flag before thousands of cheering people. In a gesture of menacing symbolism, he wore the black RSS cap—which proclaims him as a member of the Hindu nationalist guild that has not been shy of admiring Hitler and his methods.2
One hundred thirty million Muslims—not to mention the other minorities, Dalits, Christians, Sikhs, Adivasis—live in India under the shadow of Hindu nationalism.
As his confidence in his political future brimmed over, Narendra Modi, master of seizing the political moment, invited Nelson Mandela to Gujarat to be the chief guest at the celebration of Gandhi’s birth anniversary on October 2, 2002.3 Fortunately t
he invitation was turned down.4
And what of Mandela’s South Africa? Otherwise known as the Small Miracle, the Rainbow Nation of God? South Africans say that the only miracle they know of is how quickly the rainbow has been privatized, sectioned off, and auctioned to the highest bidders. In its rush to replace Argentina as neoliberalism’s poster child, it has instituted a massive program of privatization and structural adjustment. The government’s promise to redistribute agricultural land to 26 million landless people has remained in the realm of dark humor.5 While more than 50 percent of the population remains landless, almost all agricultural land is owned by sixty thousand white farmers.6 (Small wonder that George Bush on his recent visit to South Africa referred to Thabo Mbeki as his “point man” on the Zimbabwe issue.)
Post-apartheid, the income of the poorest 40 percent of Black families has diminished by about 20 percent.7 Two million have been evicted from their homes.8 Six hundred die of AIDS every day. Forty percent of the population is unemployed, and that number is rising sharply.9 The corporatization of basic services has meant that millions have been disconnected from water and electricity.10
A fortnight ago, I visited the home of Teresa Naidoo in Chatsworth, Durban. Her husband had died the previous day of AIDS. She had no money for a coffin. She and her two small children are HIV-positive. The government disconnected her water supply because she was unable to pay her water bills and her rent arrears for her tiny council flat. The government dismisses her troubles and those of millions like her as a “culture of non-payment.”11
In what ought to be an international scandal, this same government has officially asked the judge in a US court case to rule against forcing companies to pay reparations for the role they played during apartheid.12 Its reasoning is that reparations—in other words, justice—will discourage foreign investment.13 So South Africa’s poorest must pay apartheid’s debts, so that those who amassed profit by exploiting Black people during apartheid can profit even more from the goodwill generated by Nelson Mandela’s Rainbow Nation of God. President Thabo Mbeki is still called “comrade” by his colleagues in government. In South Africa, Orwellian parody goes under the genre of Real Life.
What’s left to say about Martin Luther King’s America? Perhaps it’s worth asking a simple question: Had he been alive today, would he have chosen to stay warm in his undisputed place in the pantheon of Great Americans? Or would he have stepped off his pedestal, shrugged off the empty hosannas, and walked out on to the streets to rally his people once more?
On April 4, 1967, one year before he was assassinated, Martin Luther King spoke at the Riverside Church in New York City. That evening he said: “I could never again raise my voice against the violence of the oppressed in the ghettos without having first spoken clearly to the greatest purveyor of violence in the world today—my own government.”14
Has anything happened in the thirty-six years between 1967 and 2003 that would have made him change his mind? Or would he be doubly confirmed in his opinion after the overt and covert wars and acts of mass killing that successive governments of his country, both Republican and Democrat, have engaged in since then?
Let’s not forget that Martin Luther King Jr. didn’t start out as a militant. He began as a Persuader, a Believer. In 1964 he won the Nobel Peace Prize. He was held up by the media as an exemplary Black leader, unlike, say, the more militant Malcolm X. It was only three years later that Martin Luther King publicly connected the US government’s racist war in Vietnam with its racist policies at home.
In 1967, in an uncompromising, militant speech, he denounced the American invasion of Vietnam. He said:
We have been repeatedly faced with the cruel irony of watching Negro and white boys on TV screens as they kill and die together for a nation that has been unable to seat them together in the same schools. So we watch them in brutal solidarity burning the huts of a poor village, but we realize that they would never live on the same block in Detroit.15
The New York Times had some wonderful counter-logic to offer the growing anti-war sentiment among Black Americans: “In Vietnam,” it said, “the Negro for the first time has been given the chance to do his share of fighting for his country.”16
It omitted to mention Martin Luther King Jr.’s remark that “there are twice as many Negroes dying in Vietnam as whites in proportion to their size in the population.”17 It omitted to mention that when the body bags came home, some of the Black soldiers were buried in segregated graves in the Deep South.
What would Martin Luther King Jr. say today about the fact that federal statistics show that African Americans, who account for 12 percent of America’s population, make up 21 percent of the total armed forces and 29 percent of the US Army?18
Perhaps he would take a positive view and look at this as affirmative action at its most effective?
What would he say about the fact that having fought so hard to win the right to vote, today 1.4 million African Americans, which means 13 percent of all voting-age Black people, have been disenfranchised because of felony convictions?19
To Black soldiers fighting in Vietnam, Martin Luther King Jr. said, “As we counsel young men concerning military service we must clarify for them our nation’s role in Vietnam and challenge them with the alternative of conscientious objection.”20
In April 1967, at a massive anti-war demonstration in Manhattan, Stokely Carmichael described the draft as “white people sending Black people to make war on yellow people in order to defend land they stole from red people.”21
What’s changed? Except of course the compulsory draft has become a poverty draft—a different kind of compulsion. Would Martin Luther King Jr. say today that the invasion and occupation of Iraq and Afghanistan are in any way morally different from the US government’s invasion of Vietnam? Would he say that it was just and moral to participate in these wars? Would he say that it was right for the US government to have supported a dictator like Saddam Hussein politically and financially for years while he committed his worst excesses against Kurds, Iranians, and Iraqis—in the 1980s when he was an ally against Iran?
And that when that dictator began to chafe at the bit, as Saddam Hussein did, would he say it was right to go to war against Iraq, to fire several hundred tons of depleted uranium into its fields, to degrade its water supply systems, to institute a regime of economic sanctions that resulted in the death of half a million children, to use UN weapons inspectors to force it to disarm, to mislead the public about an arsenal of weapons of mass destruction that could be deployed in a matter of minutes, and then, when the country was on its knees, to send in an invading army to conquer it, occupy it, humiliate its people, take control of its natural resources and infrastructure, and award contracts worth hundreds of millions of dollars to American corporations like Bechtel?
When he spoke out against the Vietnam War, Martin Luther King Jr. drew some connections that many these days shy away from making. He said, “The problem of racism, the problem of economic exploitation, and the problem of war are all tied together. These are the triple evils that are interrelated.”22 Would he tell people today that it is right for the US government to export its cruelties—its racism, its economic bullying, and its war machine—to poorer countries?
Would he say that Black Americans must fight for their fair share of the American pie and the bigger the pie, the better their share—never mind the terrible price that the people of Africa, Asia, the Middle East, and Latin America are paying for the American Way of Life? Would he support the grafting of the Great American Dream onto his own dream, which was a very different, very beautiful sort of dream? Or would he see that as a desecration of his memory and everything that he stood for?
The Black American struggle for civil rights gave us some of the most magnificent political fighters, thinkers, public speakers, and writers of our times. Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, Fannie Lou Ham
er, Ella Baker, James Baldwin, and of course the marvelous, magical, mythical Muhammad Ali.
Who has inherited their mantle?
Could it be the likes of Colin Powell? Condoleezza Rice? Michael Powell?
They’re the exact opposite of icons or role models. They appear to be the embodiment of Black people’s dreams of material success, but in actual fact they represent the Great Betrayal. They are the liveried doormen guarding the portals of the glittering ballroom against the press and swirl of the darker races. Their role and purpose is to be trotted out by the Bush administration looking for brownie points in its racist wars and African safaris.
If these are Black America’s new icons, then the old ones must be dispensed with because they do not belong in the same pantheon. If these are Black America’s new icons, then perhaps the haunting image that Mike Marqusee describes in his beautiful book Redemption Song—an old Muhammad Ali, afflicted with Parkinson’s disease, advertising a retirement pension—symbolizes what has happened to Black Power, not just in the United States but the world over.23
The End of Imagination Page 10
