Vox Publica

I received the following article through the Party for Islamic Renewal's mailing list (one of the "benefits" of being an activist is that all sorts of people and organizations subscribe you to their mailing lists, once in a while with interesting results). In it, a self-described "Muslim student of Political Philosophy" constructs an attack on the perceived "clash of civilizations" thesis, which might explain the Muslim response to the Mohammed cartoons published by a Danish newspaper, and on secular liberalism in general. He calls on liberals for their alledged hypocrisy in supporting freedom of expression in some contexts but apparently not in others, and questions the rational bases for freedom of expression itself.

Though, as a secular liberal, I don't agree with much of the article and I find the author's reasoning fallacious and partial in many ways, I still found the article very interesting. Some of his criticisms of liberalism deserve at least some thought, but most importantly, the article provides a window as to how Muslim intellectuals understand this particular conflict.

I first received a copy of this article through the mailing list of the "Party for Islamic Renewal" in England. I don't know anything about the party, other than it's composed of Islamic fundamentalists, but many of the readings they send are interesting (if you can ignore their vitriolic rethoric) and if nothing else they provide a window onto what some radical muslims might be thinking of.

This article, however, was not written by a Muslim but by James Petras, an American sociology professor with a long history of supporting popular struggles in Latin America. He's a prolific author and is well respected in the Latin American progressive community.

In this article, he argues that the cartoon crisis was actually manufactured by the Israeli Mossad - who has strong links both to the Danish intelligence services and to Flemming Rose, the editor responsible for their publication. Israel, he claims, is fomenting this idea of the "class of civilizations" so as to make military action in the Middle East more palatable. Indeed, he claims that the Iraqi war was pushed by Israelis.

Whether you buy the arguments or not the article makes for an interesting read.

The article follows:

I'm copying this article by Van Jones, a San Francisco black activist and community leader, to hear one black perspective on the marches.
--

On Being Black at a Latino March

By Van Jones, HuffingtonPost.com. Posted May 5, 2006.

Just as non-blacks supported our freedom movement in the last century, I am determined to give my passionate support to this righteous cause.

At Monday's "Dia Sin Inmigrantes/Day Without Immigrants" march in San Francisco, I saw a beautiful, exciting and hopeful vision of the future of this country. I also caught a glimpse of a familiar past, fading away. And I shed a few tears for both.

>From the moment I boarded the BART car, I knew this May Day march and rally would differ from the Bay Area's usual protest fare. The trains headed into downtown San Francisco were filled with working-class Latinos, all wearing white; most had kids in tow. There were few protest signs or banners, but the stars and stripes were everywhere. One tyke on my train kept trying to poke his cousin with a little American flag.

Some of the teeniest kids were wearing their older sibling's white T-shirts with their shirt hems hanging down past their knees. The children were all well-scrubbed and happy ... and very proud.

So were their parents. They knew they were part of something new, and big, and promising.

The bright mood contrasted starkly with the dreary atmosphere that chokes most protests nowadays. On this march, I saw no resigned shuffling of already defeated feet. No sea of scowls. No pierced tongues, screaming. Nor could I spy a single person dragging behind her the weighty conviction that resistance -- though obligatory -- was futile.

To the contrary. Beaming, brown-skinned families walked off those trains with their heads held high. Sure, they may have been poor, facing tough challenges in the near term. But they stepped like they were marching into a future of limitless promise and potential.

Their optimism brought tears to my eyes. And not only for the obvious reasons.

Deep inside, I was grieving for my own people. I wished that my beloved African-American community had managed, somehow, to retain our own sparkling sense of faith in a magnificent future. There was once a time when we, too, marched forward together, filled with utter confidence in the new day dawning. There was a time when we, too, believed that America's tomorrow held something bright for us ... and for our children.

But those dreams have been eaten away by the AIDS virus, laid off by down-sizers, locked out by smiling bigots, shot up by gang-bangers and buried in a corporate-run prison yard. Now we cling to Black History Month for validation or inspiration. That's because Black Present Moment is so depressing -- with worse, almost certainly, on the way.

When Katrina's floodwaters washed our problems back onto the front pages, the once-mighty Black Freedom Movement could not rise even to that occasion. Our legendary "movement" has collapsed, fallen apart. It is now a hollowed-out shell -- with our "spokespersons," both young and old, trying somehow to live off our past glories.

Meanwhile, the white-shirted future was pouring itself down Market Street, chanting "Si, se puede!"

My feelings of solidarity quickly trumped my sorrows. Thousands of people were standing up, here and across the United States, for their right to live and work in dignity in this country. Deep in my bones, I felt their pain, knew their hopes and affirmed their dreams. And just as non-blacks had supported our freedom movement in the last century, I was determined, as a non-immigrant, to give my passionate support to this righteous cause.

So I joined the crowds in the street, trying to add my voice to the thunderous chants. But I quickly discovered that, good intentions notwithstanding, political solidarity is sometimes more easily felt than expressed.

My fellow marchers started roaring out: "Zapata! Vive! La lucha! Sigue!"

I was like, Huh? What?

"Zapata! Vive! La lucha! Sigue!"

Say what?

Then louder, faster: "LaLuchaSigueSigue! ZapataViveVive!
LaLuchaSigueSigue! ZapataViveVive!"

Bewildered, but undeterred, I got myself a "chant sheet." I figured that I could use one of the official written guides to keep me in the know and on track. Sure enough, the handy leaflet spelled everything out very clearly: "Las Calles Son Del Pueblo! El Pueblo Donde Esta? El Pueblo Esta En Las Calles, Exigiendo Libertad!"

Unfortunately, those words looked precisely like alphabet soup to me. I found myself desperately trying to remember back to 11th grade, wondering what sound an "x" makes in Spanish.

Finally, I had to face the sad truth: I had B.S.-ed my way through all my high school and college language requirements. I had to admit that Mrs. Savage (from fourth-period Espanol) had been right, after all: I really hadn't cheated anyone but myself.

Now I had to accept the miserable results: as an utterly monolingual English speaker, I wasn't even knowledgeable enough about the Spanish language to shout out simple phrases, during most of the protest.

Okay, I told myself. Fine. I decided instead to just walk cheerfully along, clapping in time with the drummers. But even some of the Latin rhythms were unfamiliar, strangely syncopated. I couldn't always find the beat, despite my best efforts. (Suddenly, I was filled with love and sympathy for all those arhythmic white folks whom I used to make fun of at black rallies, parties and churches. I am so sorry, y'all!)

Well, needless to say, I was on the verge of giving up. Then I found a solution: I would simply listen for any chant that had the word "Viva!" in it. For some reason, there were lots of chants with that word in it. And then, whenever appropriate, I would just raise my fist and shout "Viva!" along with the crowd, as loud as I could.

And that was pretty much all I could do. I did it for a few hours, then went home. I hope it was enough. Because, despite feeling somewhat out of place, I was absolutely thrilled to see my sisters and brothers taking the future into their own hands. By simply standing up for their own kids and grandparents -- for their own dignity and futures -- activist Latinos today are pulling the nation to a higher level of fairness and inclusion.

They are posing a simple and devastating question: should U.S. society continue to profit from the labor of 11 million people -- many of whom pick our fruit, nurse our children, clean our workplaces -- without embracing them fully, without honoring their work, without extending to them the same rights and respect we would want for ourselves?

Can we countenance or tolerate a Jim Crow system -- in brown-face -- with a shunned tier of second-class workers, enriching society but lacking legal status and protections?

Or are we willing to change our laws, and change our hearts, to embrace those upon whom our economy has come to rest? This is a simple moral challenge. The right answers are not easy, but they are obvious.

I know there will be a backlash (there always is when people push for fairness), even coming from some black folks. But I also know that the Latino-led struggle for justice and inclusion offers hope to all of us. A national conversation about the true meaning of dignity, equality, opportunity and fair play in the modern economy can ultimately benefit every American community.

I am confident that it will. Because during the two prior centuries, it was the African-American community that performed this service for the country. And we paid a high and awful cost in blood and martyrs. Unfortunately, we did not achieve all of our aims. But we did tear apartheid from pages of U.S. law books. And in the course of that struggle, we improved the lot of all Americans; expanding social programs, democratic rights and social tolerance for all people. And our efforts opened the doors for today's equality struggles. Our marching feet moved the whole nation forward.

I cannot help but mourn the loss of a black community strong enough to put this nation on its back, and carry it forward, step by step, toward justice ... as we once did. But my pain only amplifies and underscores my joy that this marvelous new force has arisen, one that is capable -- in this tough, new era -- of deepening and extending the struggle to transform and redeem.

Strong brown hands have grabbed hold of the U.S. flag. They are pulling it away from those who have monopolized it, from bullies who have abused the nation's symbols for their violent and illegitimate ends.

I am glad. Because only a mass movement with broad shoulders -- and rough hands -- will have the power to win the coming tug-of-war for the heart and soul of this country. The Latino community has birthed just such a movement. If history is any guide, as Latinos and other immigrant communities raise core questions about their children's access to education, health care, jobs and safety, every American community will benefit hugely from their efforts. Including my own.

Van Jones is executive director of the Ella Baker Center for Human Rights in Oakland, California.

Sí Se Puede" Means "We Shall Overcome"
Reverend Jesse L. Jackson, Sr. President and Founder,
Rainbow PUSH Coalition

The earth is shaking as immigrants rise up around the country with their voices singing "Sí se puede"--Yes, we can. This uprising is in the best tradition of the American Dream and the civil rights struggle for freedom. At great personal risk, immigrants are defending their dignity and energizing the whole movement for social justice.

Let's be clear right from the start: while the mainstream media seeks to put just a "Mexican face" on the issue, immigrants from Haiti and the Dominican Republic, from Ireland and Canada, from Africa are part of the equation.

Immigrants seek precisely what has made our country great: They thirst for democracy and freedom, a job and security for their families, for citizenship rights and to leave repression and poverty behind. While the White House has turned the fight for freedom and democracy into a tragic rhetorical farce in Iraq, millions of
immigrants are keeping the dream alive.

No human being is "illegal." All human beings have human rights. No legislation should pass that violates this fundamental principle.

This new immigrant freedom movement must and is being embraced by African Americans and today's movement for peace and social justice. The polls show that the hands that picked the cotton are joining with the hands that picked the lettuce, connecting barrios and ghettos, fields and plantations.

The Republicans have passed the draconian Sensenbrenner legislation in the House of Representatives. This bill would make felons of millions of undocumented immigrants as well as anyone who aids them such as friends, church leaders, teachers, employers and unionists. It authorizes the building of a prison wall between the U.S. and Mexico.

In the name of "fighting terrorism," it unfairly punishes immigrants.

So far the Sensenbrenner bill has not passed the
Senate or become law.
But it has inspired literally millions of Latinos and
human rights
supporters to rise up with one voice to defend the
integrity and
dignity of their community.

Anti-immigrant legislation is a cutting edge of the Bush administration's "war on terror" at home: unconstitutional spying, military tribunals and other acts that undermine the civil liberties of all of us. It is ironic yet fitting that undocumented immigrants, used and abused for so long, are now standing up in unprecedented numbers to assert their humanity and to lead the fight for freedom for all.

Hot anti-immigrant rhetoric--"illegal alien hordes are pouring across the border taking jobs away from Americans"--is an awful refrain we have heard before: in the 1880s the anti-Chinese movement led to the 1882 Chinese Exclusion Act banning their immigration; by 1924 all Asians were excluded. The "bracero" program in place from the 1940s to 1960s enticed Filipino and Mexicans to serve as America's new source of cheap labor.

But immigrants have not just "come" here - they were "brought" here by employers who have always sought out the lowest wage workforce possible - by going abroad and exploiting Third World workers, and by bringing immigrant labor into the fields, factories, restaurants, high tech firms and even the homes of the U.S.

Immigrants didn't take jobs from U.S. auto, steel and mineworkers. Big business has been exporting whole industries and jobs - from steel to textiles - and replacing them with low wage service jobs. This policy has undermined America's industrial base and resulted in the loss of millions of middle class jobs. It's what I call the Wal-Martization of our economy.

Indeed the current circumstances and history of African Americans and Latinos, immigrant and non-immigrant, are indelibly linked.

Many of today's immigrants share with African Americans a history of enslavement and colonization. They share a history of being subjected to back-breaking, soul deadening work - or to no work at all.

They share a history of making a way where there was no way, creating community in often hostile environments, and fighting to carve out a better future for their children.

Less than ten percent of enslaved Africans ended up in the United States. The vast majority was shipped to Latin America and the West Indies. Numerous Asian workers were also brought to the Caribbean and Latin America to serve as cheap labor. And indigenous peoples still constitute the core of the population of many of those countries.

African Americans, like Latinos and West Indians, are a beautiful amalgam of many different peoples who share a common history. People of color are brothers and sisters under and of the skin, whether we are called undocumented "Latino" immigrants or "African Americans."

And hundreds of thousands of Asians, Africans and indigenous people are among those now scorned as "illegal" immigrants.

Few complain when African Americans and immigrants are deprived of their rights and relegated to enslavement or cheap labor. But when we become too numerous, begin to demand our right to fair wages, human rights or citizenship suddenly we are denounced as "undermining the economy."

Critics emerge who want to send us back to Africa, back to the plantation, back to Mexico, back to China or shift us to even more barren Native reservations, even those of us who have been here for generations.

Last century's slave hunters become this era's illegal alien hunter. The KKK has morphed into the Minutemen border vigilantes. Segregationists have reemerged as exclusionists. Ironically each new group is said to "undermine the standard of living" of the poorest groupings that preceded it, the better to keep us divided and powerless. 19th and early 20th century European immigrant workers were said to undercut "genuine American stock." African Americans migrants from the South were cursed as scabs on the "white worker." Asians were denounced as a yellow horde that threatened American
civilization.

And now Mexican and other undocumented immigrants are said to threaten African Americans and other poor people, not to speak of the entire "American way of life." We cannot underestimate the impact of this new wave of hate-filled rhetoric: just last week, Mayor Antonio Villargorosa of Los Angeles and California Lt. Governor Cruz Bustamante received death threats. And a new, "Kill Mexicans" video game is piercing its way through the internet.

But something unprecedented happened when the House approved this latest anti-immigrant legislation. It awakened and stirred the entire Latino community in the U.S. - 20 million and growing.

Criminals? No. They are our mothers, fathers, aunts and uncles. Illegal aliens? No. They are our friends, teachers, church leaders, health care providers and business owners. Whatever differences we may have are dwarfed by our common struggle for dignity.

>From Chicago to Dallas, from Atlanta to Nebraska, from Maine to Los Angeles, and in small towns throughout the land an outpouring of millions of Latinos and human rights supporters are taking to the streets. Immigrants have reignited this era's civil rights struggle.

Now is the time to put an end to the vicious cycle of pain and blame, to fulfill the promise of the Statue of Liberty and the fundamental notion that all people have "an inalienable right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."

And, indeed, this country also has a powerful tradition of freedom struggle. From Thomas Paine to Harriet Tubman to
Eugene Debs to Susan B. Anthony to Martin Luther King to Cesar Chavez and Dolores Huerta, it is this freedom struggle that has made our country great.

In today's great movement, many undocumented immigrants have already lost their jobs, been detained or deported, and separated from their families. But like the African American freedom fighters of the 1960s, their minds are "stayed on freedom."

Undocumented Latino and other immigrants have magnificently taken a place in the front ranks of the historic freedom struggle. It is up to the rest of us who profess to love freedom to join them in this epic
battle, a battle that is for all of us.

As I see it, their rallying cry--"Sí se puede--(Yes We Can)" is Spanish for "We Shall Overcome."

Here is a very interesting article by Le Monde Diplomatique on Israel's offensive in Gaza. Its premise is that Israel's actions constitute clear violations of the Geneva Convention (e.g. its prohibition to attack, destroy, remove or render useless objects indispensable to the survival of the civilian population and to starve the population) and therefore constitute war crimes. The article also talks about how the kidnapping of the soldier was only an excuse and that Israel had prepared this offensive even before Hamas won the election.

It's worth reading.

Want to achieve Nirvana without spening all your in meditation? Take some mushrooms - and in particular mushrooms that contain psilocybin. People who took the drug as part of a controlled study experienced feelings of love, compassion, optimism and patience - and were still on a high several weeks after the experience. Psilocybin may be of use in the treatment of mood disorders - a fact that seems to have been known for forty years.

What does Hizbullah want? Professor Haykel asserts that it's fighting "the generalized Arab and Muslim feeling of defeat, humiliation and genuine incompetence." Victory has been redefined as bleeding Israel, rather than defeating it militarily. It is, in another words, a psychological victory. But is that victory?

Professor tony D'Amato of Northwestern University has written a quick and clear analysis of the UN ceasefire plan, and its legal and practical implications. It's worth a read.

I wonder if ultimately there is a solution to the Iraqi problem other than partitioning the country. Indeed, this is a very difficult thing to do - and we have the example of Pakistan and India to show us that not only its human toll is enormous during partition, but that it doesn't solve the problems after partition. Whether the partition would work better as a federation is difficult to predict.

Este es un breve resumen de la historia del sindicalismo dominicano que me pareció interesante y pensé en compartirla con Uds. Viene del periódico HOY a través de José Gómez Cerda.

This is a short but interesting historio of the labor union movement in the Dominican Republic. I thought you might find it interesting - if you speak Spanish

I think by now the idea that we went into Iraq to "liberate" Iraqis has lost so much credibility that it is laughable. Our liberation has brought about a civil war, hundreds of thousands of dead Iraqis, hundreds of thousands more refugees, the establishment of death squads, a systematic policy of torture and disappearance, and plenty of other horrible consequences. When we say "liberate", we really mean destroy.

Having Iraqi women sold into sexual slavery may be a small evil in comparative terms, but for the victims it's just as horrifying. This article by IRIN covers the issue.

Report, IRIN
26 October 2006

DUBAI - Mariam, 16, relives the day her father in Baghdad sold her off as a domestic worker in one of the prosperous Gulf nations. Instead, she was forced into the sex trade.