Race and Class: This Socialist Moment

Twenty-nine years ago (July 26, 1989) I wrote an introduction to a book I was writing on revolutionary movements in America. I titled that introduction "Against Amnesia" and opened it with these words:

I am really scared about loss of memory. I keep thinking that the revolutionary movement in this country won't revive until there is nothing left of the organizations of the last generation to provide a bridge to the past. I'm afraid that the new generation of radicals will have to start from scratch, just like we did, as if nothing had come before.

We are living through an ascendance of unabashed racism, misogyny, xenophobia, corruption, and unrestricted capitalist greed associated with the presidency of Donald Trump. Despite (because of?) that, it is also a moment of enthusiasm for socialism in this country. Bernie Sanders did well as a candidate for the Democratic nomination two years ago while broadcasting his identity as a democratic socialist. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortéz scored a primary upset against the number-four Democrat in the House of Representatives a few weeks ago and has been riding a wave of national enthusiasm since then that shows no sign of ebbing.  She, too, is unafraid of the word socialist, which she defines with a platform of extending free public education through college, Medicare for all, and a living wage.  So I definitely think we are looking at a new birth for the radical movement. But will the young socialists of today have the benefit of understanding the victories and defeats of previous generations? And - importantly - can we elders share our own experiences without descending into grumpy-old-codger behavior?

Yesterday I listened to Nathan J. Robinson, editor of Current Affairs, as he discussed the revival of American socialism with Bob Garfield on WNYC radio. Robinson spoke enthusiastically about the history of socialism in America, especially the period between 1908 and 1912 during which socialists held over 1000 elected offices in this country. When he referred to the divisions among those socialists I thought I was about to hear something significant and difficult, but, no; he only wanted to talk about their debate over the importance of elections. He described the 110-year old argument between electoral and direct-action socialists. He saw a parallel between that dichotomy and the differences between the Justice Democrats of today and the Occupy movement of 2011.

Why did this disappoint me? Because the challenge facing a socialist movement is the same as that facing this country as a whole: Race.

Remember how this showed up in the 2016 campaign? Remember the Black Lives Matter activists who interrupted a Sanders rally in Seattle that August? And do you remember the fury of the Bernie supporters on Twitter, insistently whitesplaining that Bernie was the best friend Black people had and referring to his 50+ year-old participation in the civil rights movement (which they insisted on characterizing as "marching with Dr. King")?

I don't want to argue that Bernie Sanders is personally racist toward Black people. I do want to argue that he assiduously avoids issues, phrasing, and slogans that he fears may alienate white people. After he was pressed on the question of Black Lives, he responded by speaking out about criminal justice reform. See the difference? When he was pressed on the question of reparations, he responded by arguing that tuition-free college, a living wage, and investment in our cities would help "the most impoverished communities, often African American and Latino." See the difference? For the Sanders socialist, everything has to be expressed in color-free terms. Benefits for working-class Americans will automatically address the problems of racism.

It may be necessary to clarify why this is untrue. You may want to revisit how the discussion of a "white working class" since the 2016 election has made excuses for racism. You may want to look at the extent to which the U.S. union movement has been a bulwark securing good-paying jobs from members of racial and ethnic minorities, and not just in the building trades. You may want to look at how people of color have been historically excluded from the benefits of FHA loans. You may want to consider how AFL agitation against Americans of Mexican descent during the Great Depression led to the deportation of over 400,000 (about half of whom were US citizens!) You may want to remind yourself of the role of labor organizations in perpetrating mob violence and pogroms against people of color. (Just two examples: the 1885 Rock Springs massacre of Chinese coal miners in Wyoming; the 1917 massacre of African Americans in East St. Louis, Illinois.)

If we return to that period of 1908-1912 that Nathan Robinson was talking about, we find that there were two distinct views among socialists on race. On one side you find those like Victor Berger of Wisconsin, the first socialist member of the House of Representatives, who said, "There can be no doubt that the Negroes and mulattoes constitute a lower race." Kate Richard O'Hare, the socialist candidate for Senate from Missouri wrote a pamphlet supporting racial segregation and opposing what she called - in its title - "Nigger Equality"!

The opposing view was represented the by Socialist Party's candidate for President, former union leader Eugene V. Debs. Debs stood firmly for racial equality. He responded directly to views like those of Berger and O'Hare, writing, "The man who seeks to arouse prejudice among workingmen is not their friend. He who advises the white wage-worker to look down upon the black wage-worker is the enemy of both." He rejected the fear that belief that social equality is "divisive":

I say that the Socialist Party would be false to its historic mission, violate the fundamental principles of Socialism, deny its philosophy and repudiate its own teachings if, on account of race considerations, it sought to exclude any human being from political equality and economic freedom. Then, indeed, would it not only "jeopardize" its best interests, but forfeit its very life, for it would soon be scorned and deserted as a thing unclean, leaving but a stench in the nostrils of honest men.

Yet this is the same Debs who wrote: "We have nothing special to offer the Negro, and we cannot make special appeals to all the races. The Socialist Party is the Party of the whole working class, regardless of color - the whole working class of the whole world." How? Because he believed that the class struggle is colorless. In writing about this in 1990 I commented that "The most obvious 'special' things in those days were an end to segregation, an end to lynching, an end to discriminatory voting laws" and added: "These are things Debs should have been able to see."

Ta-Nehisi Coates wrote in January 2016 that he found it hard to believe that Bernie Sanders was concerned that reparations were politically divisive because "there are few political labels more divisive in the minds of Americans than socialist." He identified Sanders's reluctance to address race directly in what he identified as "the 'class first' approach, originating in the myth that racism and socialism are incompatible." It is precisely the view of Debs in his articles of 114 years ago. It is a view that insists on working-class unity, but without asking white people to reject the less obvious (to them, not to people of color!) benefits of white supremacy.

Consider the current debate on immigration. Bernie Sanders has tried for years to thread a needle that allows him to retain progressive credentials while continuing to ally with the dominant elements in the AFL-CIO that see immigrants as competitors for work. I have always been mystified by the blindness of this view. When the law restricts migration into the US but the economy demands workers that mismatch creates a caste of workers who are restricted from defending themselves, either in court or through organizing unions. It is immigration restriction that puts downward pressure on wages, not immigration. But Bernie opposed the 2007 immigration reform and was only a reluctant voter for the 2013 immigration reform. And he still characterizes any policy that would provide a welcome to immigrants as a "Koch Brothers proposal." On its face these positions are nuanced discussion of policy. Hiding behind them, though, is the belief that everybody south of the Mexican border is some other kind of person.

What about Black Lives? Everybody who has met with Bernie on this subject is quick to point to his willingness to discuss the problems with mass incarceration, asset forfeiture, and inequality in the justice system. But they also remain uncomfortable with his insistence on talking about the "hard job" police face in providing safety in some neighborhoods. He seems not to be aware of the role of police as an occupying force, nor to recognize the way the "blue wall" protects those who took jobs in urban police departments just so they could be abusive toward people they hate. I could point to the rush of racists into ICE, which provides them the cover of a rogue agency for their vicious behavior, but you see the same thing in so many departments. The hashtag #BlackLivesMatter began trending in 1913, after the acquittal of George Zimmerman for the racist murder of Trayvon Martin. Ever since, there have been white people who pretend not to understand it. They forlornly ask, "What about my life?" They counter with the hashtag #AllLivesMatter, although they don't seem to insist on this to cry for justice for Sandra Bland, or Eric Garner, or Philando Castile. When Bernie finds other words, when he calls for "criminal justice reform" instead of insisting that "Black lives matter," I feel that he is echoing Debs in refusing to offer something "special" and claiming that fighting for workers' rights is enough.

I don't think Bernie has any problems personally with people of color. I don't think he is racist in that way. I have long suspected, though, that Bernie moved to Vermont fifty years ago because people of color introduce too much complexity into his class analysis. In Vermont (95% white) he could talk about labor and capital without talking about race. Brooklyn, where Bernie grew up, is -- by contrast -- 36% white, 35% African American, 20% Latino and 12% Asian. Roughly half the people speak a language other than English when they are in their homes. Chicago, where he went to university, is similarly diverse. So I can't help but feel that he wanted to avoid talking about things that "didn't fit" with his theory.

I can't say that about Alexandria Ocasio-Cortéz. She is Puerto Rican herself. Even if she hasn't developed a theoretical understanding about the relationship between Puerto Rico and the US, she sees the effects of colonialism, especially since last year's hurricane. I cant't say it about Kaniela Ing, either. He is not afraid to speak about colonizers in Hawaii. That's why I have a great deal of hope about the new generation of socialists. But I also feel strongly about the need to share what we have learned about the relationship between race and class. History tells us that there will be white people in the socialist movement who are afraid of antagonizing "the white working class" with talk of "special demands," even if those demands are as elemental as not killing people of color.

This conversation is not unique to the United States. Throughout the imperialist world there are colonizers on both sides of the class divide who take the supremacy of white people and culture so much for granted that it is invisible to them as a question. In 1960, Ousmane Sembène wrote Le Bouts de Bois de Dieu  about a railway strike in 1940's Senegal. The meeting between the workers' committee and the company gets off to a contentious start when the manager insists that it be conducted in French. Bakayoko, a leader of the strike replies:

"I am not alone in this strike," he said, looking at the personnel director, "but since your ignorance of any of our language is a handicap for you, we will use French as a matter of courtesy.  But is is a courtesy that will not last forever."

This exchange has stayed with me because the demand for French could as easily have come from a white union leader. In February 2017 I wrote an essay questioning the very existence of a working class in the US today. I pointed out that in 1964, when there was still an immense steel industry in this country, a quarter of union steel workers were African American, but no African American had yet been elected as a national officer of the USW. The contract negotiated by the union itself had the effect of keeping African American steel workers in the hottest, most dangerous, worst paid jobs in the mills. There is nothing about working class organization that guarantees justice for all. That requires "special demands."