Over my years supporting Nader’s various runs, I’ve had nothing but respect for the man. I’ve have happily taken my share of abuse. And I have wondered who’ll replace him.
But to be honest, Ralph’s cranky e-mail blast on the night of the election sounded like nothing but sound and fury. You didn’t see it, I know, but it was sent around 6 pm–a moment when pretty much nobody was all that interested, to put it mildly, and even if I agreed with his points, this was no night to be calling Senator Obama “cowardly.” He came off sounding oblivious to the greater import of what was going down. What of it, I thought. He ran, I voted for him, we suffered exactly the fate we knew we would; we’d remember the points he raises, we’ll continue to fight for them … but last night … last night, there was something else on the table requiring our attention. So I let it pass.
That was one thing. But it was only tonight that I saw the clip on FOX News in which Ralph defends and reiterates his comment made earlier, that Obama could wind up either ”Uncle Sam or Uncle Tom.” I understood the importance of the points he’s trying to drive home, but there was sense in employinga label both offensive and demeaning–and not simply to Senator Obama, nor his black constituency, but to all of us.
I’m pretty sure that what Nader wanted to highlight was the fact that it’s all too easy to succumb to the “society of the spectacle,” where symbols deflect from rather than reflect realities. A good example: when asked about the significance of the moment, CNN commentator William Bennett, noting his previous stint as “education czar,” said that–I have to paraphrase here–this means that there are no more excuses. Uh-uh. You see, if a black guy can become president, then race is no longer a viable obstacle. Which is utter BS, of course, because a third grader can grasp the connection between urban poverty and basement-level educational systems. It’s precisely that kind of symbolic-level thinking that we need people like Nader to continue to deconstruct. Because we’re going to hear plenty more of it.
And too, a black president is no more likely to serve the black community than a white president whites, and won’t be serving either if he succumbs to the same Wall Street pressures that make Goldman Sachs and Exxon wealthier and me, and you, both economically and politically poorer. Nader can only go on what he sees, and what we have seen to date, in the world of realpolitik, has not been in the least reassuring. That point needs also to be brought out into the open at almost every opportunity, no matter how many illusions it may dissolve–and god knows but we love our illusions, nurturing and protecting them at all cost against the bitter winds of reality–and hammered home. But not last night; and not in that language. No. Because something else happened, that has nothing to do with Obama or investment firms or Iraq and everything to do with us.
And that was where he blew it. To consciously use that term to describe Obama–there were so many ways to express it!!! (“running dog lackey of Yankee imperialism” always plays well in the heartland… never mind)–displays not simply a degree of sheer contempt that Obama simply has not earned, no matter what your politics; it also shows a genuinely in-credible insensitivity to the culture he would represent. Not black culture, but American culture, and Americans, who, whatever else you feel, did something last night that stunned me.
Like Ralph, I’ve pretty much eschewed identity politics. It’s too easy, and it leads too easily to smugness, and tends to obscure the discomfiting realities of class in America and the share of wealth and power held firmly in the grasp of the topmost elites with it’s inevitable effect on politics electoral and otherwise. And sharing that assumption, I’ve tended to agree with Ralph that the plutocracy, with its aggregation of resources, is not very good, not very good at all, for this democracy thing. But while Nader, so far as I know–no, I do know, I do know this about the man who campaigns in the slums while the others gather in the fancy-ass ballrooms–is no racist, there is something almost as bad as racism, and that is the willfull and obstinate refusal to acknowledge it’s history and remnants and to deny the role it still plays in our thinking, in our economy, and hence in our overall power structure.
And that’s what Ralph Nader did last night. Casually dismissed three hundred years of American history and one of its most historically salient features, that racism which is one of the single greatest hindrances to achieving that egalitarian democracy of which Nader always speaks so highly.
I don’t like word “spiritual.” I’m not sure what other term to use, though, to contrast with Nader’s unrelenting materialism. In his interview on FOX, during which he was asked to explain–and permitted to apologize–for his usage of “Uncle Tom,” he began with a cavalier, “oh, sure it was great night for African-Americans and all that,” before launching into attack mode. Sheesh. I didn’t see a single right wing commentator last night who wasn’t in some way moved by what we saw, who didn’t say something genuine about the wonder of what happened.
There is plenty of time to start harping about Obama the President-Elect. Starting right now, in fact. But last night was as joyous as it was because eight years of Cheney and all that he has come to represent has made America and the world a harsher, less beautiful place, and Americans a frightened people, a people of narrower scope and breadth, and the people who danced at the White House gates and raised their hands in the air in downtown Chicago were not frightened. And because we for the moment see at least the small open window, the one the Bushies had covered with plywood a la Night of the Living Dead. And because for the first time in memory the world celebrated with us
.
Hence the joy. But what elevated the event to sublimity was the fact of Obama’s race. And what made it so significant was that it wasn’t just Obama’s triumph, or a triumph for black people–it was a triumph for America–for all the people whose moms and dads would never have dreamed of voting for a black guy but who went and did just that. After what we’ve been showing the world for far too long–our fat backside–we turned around and showed the rest of the globe what a remarkable people we are, we sons and daughters of immigrants who are forever banging out our own culture and identity. Without a manual.
Too many of us fetishize our socialist, “progressive” counterparts in Europe. Well: when do you think you’ll see a Muslim Prime Minister in Holland? An Algerian President of France? A Pakistani in 5 Downing Street? The kids in the streets are fond of chanting “this is what democracy looks like.” Last night, no one said it, because it was so splendidly self-evident. That doesn’t mean that the big donors won’t be calling too many of the shots. Nader’s right about that, and he’d be right to go right back to war again today. But Grant Park at midnight? That’s what democracy IS supposed to look like, and only a fool would disregard it.
It was great thing to see, no matter what your politics, and for all my class-war-now ideology, for once, the cultural significance of what happened really did trump fundamental ideological considerations, because the importance of what happened–yeah, on the purely symbolic level–may turn out to be of greater long term significance than Obama’s centrist politics. Because what happened was a revelation–the change that occurred when Americans showed themselves able to transcend their own past was in itself proof that this people can change on a very fundamental level, and can effect change.
I’ve always admired Nader’s decided lack of sentimental cant, his contempt for the show business aspects of electioneering that obscures so much. And like him, I can always spot the fly in the ointment. It’s easy to be cranky. But its too easy to make such a habitual mindset out of carping that you fail to feel, on a visceral level, the kinds of emotions certain events would seem to demand–even if you disagree with some elements on an intellectual basis. The next four years will be about battling centrist Democratic politics. Last night–a few hours worth of last night–was about something infinitely grander than that, something transcendent. Literally transcendent, as America rose above its own past, showed a genuine willingness to expiate it’s great sin. How the hell often do you see that?
There are moments to be just a little awe struck. They are so few and far between that we need to appreciate them for goddsake. Those tears streaming down Jesse Jackson Sr’s face last night–a man capable of stunning blunders of his own, to be sure–they were real tears shed by a man who held Martin Luther King as he died, and who conducted a rip-roaring campaign of his a few years back. How you could look into his lion-in-winter face and not be moved is beyond me (and Jesse will be all over Obama soon enough, too).
And there are times to be reverent–not in light of Obama, or even that sea of faces ”young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Latino, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled” but in light of the crumbling of an old world in front of us.
And there are times … there are times to just shut up. If only for a few hours.
This morning was glorious up here, all brisk and sunny. It’s chilly and rainy tonight. And seeing the Nader clip has put a damper on my spirits. Meaning no disrespect to him, and I hope he’d agree, our movement needs to be lead by the next generation too, you know?–not by fading figures who made their chops in the 60s, as I’m sure he’d agree, and our electoral and other efforts need to consist of ever so much more than rallies every four years. You may say this is a lot of weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth over a figure that’s already been marginalized practically out of existence, but he meant a lot to me over these years, and his core ideas are as valid today as they were in 2000–more so–and he was one unyielding if increasingly shrill voice that was never quite drowned, try as so many did to silence him.
We can’t expect Nader to be the oen to lead us out of the wilderness (this time he at least managed to get on the ballot in 45 states).The Greens: in shambles–McKinney wasn’t even on the ballot in Massachusetts. The paradox being that no one is seemingly thrilled by the prospect of what’s starting to look like the Clinton administration redux, there’s still plenty of lingering resentment about the bail out, and with all the enticing water-cooler fodder elements of the election over, this could well be another winter of discontent. In short, there’s plenty of disaffection. But there is no focal point for disaffection. Not even the signs of a nascent movement of the disaffected. There is opportunity to be seized, there, that’s for certain, but there’s not even a foundation in place. Some of that will be the stuff of ensuing posts here.
I’ll remember Ralph’s superhuman energy, what he meant to us, the disaffected, and what he was fighting and fighting for. None of that goes away. But plenty of other people are going to remember his distinct lack of humanity last night, and I just wish it had all played out differently. If you want an example of real magnanimity and graciousness, look at McCain’s concession remarks. Granted McCain and Obama have a lot more in common with each other than either do with Nader–see the post below about their chummy advisors; but keep in mind too that when Obama spoke to McCain he asked for help, noting that McCain is a significant voice in the Senate. A touch of humanity can’t help but get you that.
I wanted to write about some other stuff tonight related to last night. This has me rattled. On the other hand, it’s a symptom–a movement that depends on a 75 year old man to throw rallies every four years is going to accomplish .. pretty much what we have. That should give us pause.
But any case, for now, one thought: no more heroes any more.
