Social Movement Studies

Black Politicians: White Supremacy's Indirect Rulers

By Christian Gines

The Black Community is an internal colony within America. We have a Perpetual Foreigner status and are treated as such. We are socially, politically, educationally, and economically deprived. We have no self-determination. Where there is institutional racism, there is colonization. U.S. Imperialism affects black people abroad just as much as it does at home, and it is sustained in one fundamental way: Black Politicians. Black Politicians are the faces of white supremacy in the black community. They uphold the same structures that we need to dismantle under the guise of them having to “play ball,” which they claim will lead to “useful” compromise. That approach only benefits the individual and not the entire race. Black Politicians are colonial masters. They are indirect rulers and one of the biggest roadblocks to Black Liberation.  

Black Visibility does not equal Black Power. Just because we have black people that look like us in office or in power doesn't mean that it will benefit us. Just because you have a Black face on a white-supremacist system doesn't mean that white supremacy is over. It has just adapted to the conditions of society. Take the state of Mississippi, for example. Mississippi has the most black politicians in office. Yet, the state still has one of the highest poverty rates, one of the lowest education ratings, worst healthcare systems, and more than half of our renters are at stake of homelessness because of Covid-19. If we have a black person in power implementing the same policies that the white people are implementing, then that representation has no worth to us. What is good for America does not equal what is good for black people. That representation is only worth something to the white-supremacist structure which benefits from the facade of progress by placing a black face on racism and oppression. 

Black Politicians are the same as the indirect rulers that were in colonies during the Scramble for Africa. They come to us saying that they “see us, hear us, and are going to do something about it.” Then they get into office and say that they can't speak up about an issue plaguing the black community because if they speak up, they will be ousted from the club. They claim that they won't have a seat at the table anymore. That shows you the fundamental problem right there. Black Politicians don't really exercise any real power for the community. They are more interested in their individual wealth and comfort than actually fighting for any real change. They are no more than puppets that, instead of being loyal to the constituents that put them into office, are loyal to a political party. They are more worried about personal status than changing the status quo. 

Take the Congressional Black Caucus, for example. The Congressional Black Caucus is dominated by politicians who are more worried about their corporate interests and filling their pockets than actually representing the Black Community's interests. Take the race of Jamal Bowman and Eliot Engel. Jamal Bowman was a black progressive candidate running against the incumbent Eliot Engel, who is a moderate white politician. In this race, the CBC decided to endorse Eliot Engel instead of Jamal Bowman. This example right here goes to show you what the goal of black politicians is to protect the status quo of the White Supremacist Capitalist Patriarchy. They are elected to do the bidding of the ruler. Same as colonial masters. They co-opt revolutionary language to benefit the goals of neoliberalism. 

Look at Jim Clyburn, who was a Freedom Rider and participated in the civil rights movement. When young, he put in work and likely had revolutionary tendencies and thoughts. His effectiveness, though, after being brought into the Democratic Machine, has gone to waste. He no longer articulates the ideas and needs of the black community. What he does now is silence black radical thought and dissent. Take for instance what he said about the protest happening around Defunding the Police. He stated that "Nobody is going to defund the police." That statement is very disingenuous, seeing that most of the protesters are calling for defunding if not abolition. He is doing his job as a colonial master. He is watering down the movement and  trying to subside the black masses by getting us to settle for incremental change instead of fighting to dismantle current systems of oppression. 

Joe Biden picking Kamala Harris as his running mate displays this indirect rule the most. Right now, we are going through a global uprising against policing and prison systems, with people advocating for the abolition of both. During this time, Joe Biden decides to choose a candidate who is known for criminalizing black and brown bodies by keeping innocent people in jail for labor, defending the three-strike system, withholding police misconduct information, defending the death penalty, defending prosecutors falsifying confessions, and a myriad of other things. This shows you the logic of the Democratic Party. They see black people as political pawns who they can manipulate into giving their undying support to the party by just nominating a black woman as Vice President without substantial policy promises. And this strategy has worked. People who were calling for the abolition of police and prisons in June and July are now the same people supporting the Vice Presidential pick of Kamala Harris.

In Black Power, Kwame Ture quoted Machiavelli in saying, "And here it should be noted that a prince ought never to make common cause with one more powerful than himself to injure another unless necessity forces him to it.… for if he wins you rest in his power, and princes must avoid as much as possible being under the will and pleasure of other." This is the reckoning that the Black Community has to have because when we hear talks about “harm reduction,” what harm is actually being reduced. Bombs are still going to be dropped, people are still going to get shot by police, people will still be in jail under both presidents. Harris is deliberately being used to sideline the discussions of real change that we need because we have a black face as the possible second-in-charge of the oppression. We had a black face as the head of America for eight years, and the black community's situation did not get better. Black Lives Matter started under his presidency, and he was hesitant to speak about it, let alone offer substantial change. The Flint Water Crisis was under his presidency, and he didn't provide any substantial change. Not to mention, he dropped 72 bombs a day on the Global South and helped coordinate the outright destruction of one of Africa’s most prosperous nations in Libya. Black faces in high places are just brokers of White Supremacy sold with the guise of progress. 

We don't need Colonial Masters and empty representation. It's not about having a Black person in a position of White Supremacy. We need new institutions in place and new systems that will actually bring about change. Black people are not politically, socially, and economically depressed because of our character or work ethic. Black people are politically, socially, and economically depressed because we are a colonized community. The indirect ruler does not make any colonized situation better. It is just cheaper and easier than having white men run everything in the colony. If we ushered an end to colonization, then we would have an end to our economic serfdom, exploitation, and oppression. We have just as much right to self-determination and freedom than any other colonized group has, and having Black faces doing the bidding of the White Supremacist Capitalist Patriarchy is not the way to achieving that liberation and freedom.

Frantz Fanon: A Personal Tribute to the Philosopher of the Colossal Mass

By Alieu Bah

Originally published at Red Voice.

"The colonized intellectual you so much detest has come to become the so-called guardian of your name. I hope you come into the whirlwind and destroy that myth... But in the end, I guess that’s our battle to fight."

The wretched of the earth, the damned of humanity are still here. Still clamoring, still caught in a thousand many battles with themselves and the world built to keep them in their place. Their fate signed, sealed, and packaged for the consumption of the rich and wealthy few of the earth — buffets where the flesh, blood and tears of the poor are served to a greedy, barbaric, capitalist horde are even more sumptuous. Their feasting is the stuff of legend and their belch a recognition of a satisfied bunch of heartless thieves who rejoice more in their heist than any sort of remorse or regret thereof. The proverbial cocktail party list that was supposed to be changed at the dawn of decolonization remains the same even as it is inherited and one family name supplanted for another in a vicious circle of inheritance.

(Un)fortunately your book ‘The Wretched of the Earth’ is still relevant to us. It was supposed to be an artifact of history, forever to rest in the museums of liberated territories. But fact is, it remains this living, breathing, painful reminder to us the colonized of the earth. We still study it because it’s more relevant than ever in this colonial continuity. From the favelas of Brazil, the hoodlands of America, the jungles of Chiapas, from the townships of Johannesburg to the slums of Nairobi, this masterpiece continues to shine in the eyes of a new generation whose parents were sold nothing but dreams.

The shantytown, the medinas, the slums of the world still persist. The compartmentalization of the world continues unabated. However, the divide gets deeper and more cancerous, the line, the border isn’t in the same town or neighborhood anymore, but between the geography of the oppressed — the third world — and the center of the oppressor, the colonist. With the ever-increasing globalized configuration of capital, the choke hold of a staggering market to the expansion of “soft” imperialism in the form of intergovernmental organizations and NGOs from the colonizer, the metropolis has exceeded all expectations of a shared analysis between our generations; the chasm deepened as Hannibal crossed the alps. It all has gotten deeper since you've succumbed to the white claws of death in that hospital in Maryland. The rich neighborhood and the slums today are mostly populated by the same faces, the same race of men and women. When I was in Nairobi last year, it reminded me so much of your analysis on the divided, schizophrenic colonial society.

In more ways than one it’s as if your take was about the neocolonial state in those illuminating first chapters of The Wretched of the Earth. The naked violence of it and the wanton disregard for human life makes you a prophet in this secular tradition of progressive politics we share. But more searing and penetrating of your analysis was the scholar and intellectual who comes home from the west. They’re here after all this time, still concerned about particulars and false western moralisms. They do all kinds of gymnastics with the minds of the masses to divert them from the struggle for land, bread, and water.

They are being found out, though. Young and old progressive Africans have started studying and propagating your works and see their (colonized intellectuals') likeness once again. The objective conditions are also giving rise to a newer, more badass context that defies the pull and gravity of bourgeois intellection grown from those barren western soils. These new rebels, ghetto-grown intellectuals, unknown revolutionaries, are at once denouncing these puppets and concretely building again the old-but-known mass organizational model that led to our liberation in times gone by from the clutches of classic colonialism.

Your name, though, continues to raise colonial anxiety. It continues to sound like metal dropping on the silence and soothing sounds of the corporate world. From Palestine to Panama, it continues to liberate, to agitate, even, as it brings home sanity to a lost generation. Your righteous ghost keeps coming back to haunt the Towers of Babel. Even after all this time! It reminds one of the old saying that wickedness tarries but a little while, but the works of the righteous lives on forevermore. Your lives and afterlives have clearly shown the truth and precision of that good old saying. Year after year, you resurface in the most unlikeliest of places, but unbeknownst to bourgeois historians, so long as oppression exists and there is a demand for the objective material conditions to change, you, the philosopher of the colossal mass, will show face, heart, and mind, and guide the movement even from the grave.

But there is trouble now. Your name and your work continues to be appropriated by academe. You’ve become a career for the well-to-do, the ones who erase. They have complicated your legacy. The colonized intellectual you so much detest has come to become the so-called guardian of your name. I hope you come into the whirlwind and destroy that myth. I hope you come into the thunder, into the tsunami, into the catalytic force of nature. But in the end, I guess that’s our battle to fight. To honor your name by bringing it home to the oppressed and the wretched of the earth.

There is so much to enrich this letter with, but so little time and space. But we who inherited the disinherited, we who took the pledge to raise a billion-strong army, we who know liberation and freedom is a birthright, we who want to end the compartmentalization of the world — the Manichaeism of the land — we are here, in our many forms, subjectively and objectively honoring the call to “...shake off the great mantle of night which has enveloped us, and reach for the light. The new day which is dawning must find us determined, enlightened and resolute. We must abandon our dreams and say farewell to our old beliefs and former friendships. Let us not lose time in useless laments or sickening mimicry.

Breonna Taylor and the Framing of Black Women as "Soft Targets" in America

By Ameer Hasan Loggins

Originally published at the author’s blog.

12:38 a.m. was the last peaceful minute of Breonna Taylor’s life.

On March 13, 2020, at 12:38 a.m., Breonna Taylor and her partner Kenneth Walker were asleep in bed. At 12:39 a.m. officers beat on her door for approximately one-minute. During that 59-seconds of banging, Taylor screamed “at the top of her lungs,” “Who is it?” But no one said a word. “No answer. No response. No anything.” The boogeymen kept beating on her door. By 12:40 a.m. Plainclothes Louisville Metro Police Department Officers Myles Cosgrove and Brett Hankison, as well as Sgt. Jonathan Mattingly, shattered the forest green front door of Breonna Taylor’s apartment with a battering ram.

“Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.”

The police blindly shot over 20 rounds of bullets into the home of Breonna Taylor. Eight of those officers’ bullets found their way into Breonna’s Black body.

Sgt. Mattingly spoke to Louisville Police internal investigators roughly two weeks after Breonna’s killing. During that conversation he said officers were told her ground floor apartment was a “soft target” and that Taylor too was a soft target, because she, “should be there alone.”

A “soft target.”

A soft target is a person, location, or thing that is deemed as unprotected. As vulnerable. As powerless against military or terrorist attacks. Attacking soft targets are meant to, “disrupt daily life, and spread fear.” They are meant to target, “identities, histories and dignity.” They are meant to ambush and bring unexpected carnage. In 1845, attacking soft targets is how James Marion Sims, who is considered to be “the father” of modern gynecological studied, was permitted to experiment on enslaved Black women without consent, without anesthesia, and without consideration of their humanity. In 2015, attacking soft targets is what lead to 13 Black women testifying against Officer Daniel Holtzclaw. They spoke of how Holtzclaw targeted them during traffic stops and interrogations. How the officer forced them into sexual acts in his police car or in their homes. Prosecutors spoke to how Holtzclaw, “deliberately preyed on vulnerable Black women from low-income neighborhoods,” while committing his acts of sexual terrorism. 170 years separates the hellish acts of Sims and Holtzclaw, but what bridges the gap in time between those two men serially targeting the identities, dignities, and humanhood’s of these Black women is an unbroken history of war being waged on their entire self.

I cast my mind back to Malcolm X’s rebuking of this nation in 1962, when he said, “The most disrespected person in America is the Black woman. The most unprotected person in America is the Black woman. The most neglected person in America is the Black woman.” Here we are, in the year 2020, and the Louisville Police are framing Breonna Taylor as a “soft target.” It’s as if Brother Malcolm was talking about Breonna’s death before she was even born into this world. Before she was awakened by police pounding on her front door. Before she had a name that needed to be said. While Malcolm’s words may feel prophetic in their preciseness, they are not. They were painfully predictable. Malcolm lived, and died in anti-Black America. He was a scholar of America’s history of anti-Blackness.

There has never been a period in the history of America where Black women’s bodies, hearts, minds and beings have not been reduced to being treated as soft targets.

Black women have always been exploited in America. Violated in America. Terrorized in America. Killed in America. The relationship between Black women and America was birthed in targeting and torture.

In Antebellum America, white owners of enslaved African women freely and with legal impunity raped them, often in front of their own families and fictive kin. In Jim Crow America, close to 200 Black women too were murdered by lynch mobs in the American South, many of whom had been raped before having their necks bound and burned by knotted nooses before being hanged to death.

Black women too, were strange fruit.

Black women like Eliza Woods. Woods was a cook. A cook, who in 1866, was accused of poisoning a white woman to death by the woman’s husband. She was arrested and taken from the county jail by a lynch mob. She was stripped naked. She was hung from an elm tree in the courthouse yard. Her lifeless body was then riddled with bullets as over a thousand spectators watched.

In 1899, the husband admitted that he poisoned his wife — not Woods.

Black women like Laura Nelson. Nelson allegedly shot a sheriff, in 1911, to protect her 14-year-old son. A mob of white people seized Nelson along with her son, and lynched them both. Laura Nelson, “was first raped by several men. The bodies of Laura and her son were hung from a bridge for hundreds of people to see.”

Elderly Black women like 93-year-old Pearlie Golden (2014), 92-year-old Kathryn Johnson (2006), 66-year-old Eleanor Bumpurs (1984), and 66-year-old Deborah Danner (2016), all were in their homes and shot to death by the police. Michelle Cusseaux (2014) was 50-years-old. Kayla Moore (2013) was 41-years-old. Aura Rosser (2014) was 40-years-old. Tanisha Anderson (2014) was 37-years-old. Natasha McKenna (2015) was 37-year-old. Alesia Thomas (2012) was 35-years-old. Miriam Carey (2013) was 34-years-old. Charleen Lyles (2017) was 30-years-old. India Kager (2015) was 28-years-old. Sandra Bland (2015) was 28-years-old. Atatiana Jefferson (2019) was 28-years-old. Mya Hall (2015) was 27-years-old. Meagan Hockaday (2015) was 26-years-old. Shantel Davis (2012) was 23-years-old. Korryn Gains (2016) was 23-years-old. Rakia Boyd (2012) was 22-years-old. Gabriella Nevarez (2014) was 22-years-old. Janisha Fonville (2015) was 20-years-old.

The police did not give a damn about the ages of these Black women. They did not care if they had nearly lived for a century on this earth, or if they were just a few years removed from their high school graduation. They killed them just the same. The police have shown that anybody, at any age, can be on the fatal end of their force, if you were born with Black skin.

Aiyana Mo’nay Stanley-Jones was only seven-years-old. On May 16, 2010, at 12:40 am, a Detroit Police Department Special Response Team Officer ended her life. Her last peaceful minutes in this world were spent sleeping on the couch, near her grandmother. That’s before a no-knock warrant (at the wrong apartment) was executed. That’s before law enforcement threw a flash-bang grenade through her family’s front window. That’s before the grenade burned the blanket covering Aiyana’s body. That’s before the wooden front door exploded under the force of police boots. That’s before Officer Joseph Weekley fired a single shot, that entered Aiyana’s head and exited through her neck — all while an A&E crew were filming an episode of the cop- aganda program, The First 48.

There is no softer target in this world than a sleeping child.

Aiyana never had the chance to reach womanhood, but had she, her “soft target” status, both in perceived personhood and lived location, would have left her vulnerable to domestic anti-Black police terrorism attacks. The disturbing truth is that, as Kimberlie Crenshaw notes, “about a third of women who are killed by police in the United States are Black, but Black women are less than ten percent all women,” in this country. This speaks directly to the hazard level and susceptibility to anti-Black police terrorism faced by Black women of all ages in America. The devil is in the details. Look directly into the data, and see how many of the law enforcers who have killed Black women have been convicted of committing a crime. The American Judicial System does not protect Black women. It too treats them as soft targets. The lack of Black women’s names being said in conversations surrounding anti-Black police terror speaks directly to their deaths and narratives as being deemed as unworthy of outrage. Of newsworthiness. Of action.

Breonna Taylor’s killers are free. Brett Hankison, Jonathan Mattingly, and Myles Cosgrove are walking the streets…free. Breonna was shot dead in her home in March, and we are in the month of August. 143 days have passed…and her killers are free. There is no justice to be had for Black women when the intersections of their Blackness, their class, and their gender mark their bodies, their homes, and their narratives as “soft targets” to be attacked with little to no consequences.

The politics of Black women being unprotected against targeting in America, predates America being a sovereign nation. It goes as far back as Virginia’s December 1662 decree, “that the children of enslaved Africans and Englishmen would be ‘held bond or free according to the condition of the mother’ which, in effect, monetarily incentivized the sexual terror against Black women, “as their offspring would swell planters’ coffers — a prospect boon to countless rapes and instances of forced breeding.” One must understand, when you witness Black women passionately protesting on behalf of Breonna Taylor, yes, it is a fight for Black women today, but it is also a part of the uninterrupted fight Black women have always faced in America — the fight against being casualties of “soft target” terrorists attacks.

The Garifuna in Honduras: A History of Pillage and Dispossession

By Yanis Iqbal

Originally published at Green Social Thought.

Amid the current Covid-19 pandemic, the Garifuna community of Honduras is experiencing state-sponsored violence and regulated repression. On July 18 2020, heavily armed personnel of the Police Investigation Department (DPI) barged into the house of Alberth Sneider Centeno, Garifuna president of the land community of El Triunfo de la Cruz, and abducted him. Later, the same armed group kidnapped Suami Aparicio Mejía García, Gerardo Mizael Rochez Cálix and Milton Joel Martínez Álvarez, members of the OFRANEH (Black Fraternal Organization of Honduras), and a fifth person, Junior Rafael Juárez Mejía. The General Confederation of Labor (CGT) has issued a statement saying “that the kidnapping of these people is motivated by the activity of the Garifuna people in defense of their ancestral lands and the rights of Afro-indigenous and indigenous people in these territories.”

The Honduran Solidarity Network (HSN) has similarly stated that “There are powerful people and businesses that have every interest in terrorizing the Garifuna communities in Tela Bay including Triunfo de la Cruz. Snider Centeno was an outspoken leader fighting against the global tourist industry allied with powerful and wealthy families in Honduras. Centeno was defending his community's collective and ancestral land rights. An investigation into the Honduran government's role in not only the kidnapping but also the context in which the kidnappings occurred, is absolutely necessary and important. The Honduran government has violated the Garifuna's land rights for decades.”

From the statements issued by CGT and HSN, it is clear that the kidnapping is not a regionally restricted event. Rather, it is an act involving myriad actors, both national and international. For example, DPI, the armed group responsible for the kidnapping, is a police force which is economically supported by the US State Department’s Bureau for International Narcotics and Law Enforcement Affairs. With American assistance, the DPI has enormously expanded and by 2022, it is expected to have 3,000 personnel or 12% of the entire Honduran force.

Furthermore, the authoritarian alacrity with which the state has suppressed protests against the kidnappings betokens that there is something deeper of which the government is afraid. These peaceful protests were carried out by the residents of El Triunfo de la Cruz, Sambo Creek, Nueva Armenia and Corozal on Highway CA-13 and demanded that the 5 Garifuna activists be returned alive. In order to understand the underlying factors which are shaping the dynamics of violence and intimidation against the Garifuna community, we need to take a look at the historical backdrop against which it is occurring and understand the path-dependent nature of present-day happenings.

The Garifuna people are a community who find their existential roots in the soil of anti-colonialism and anti-imperialism. In 1675, a ship carrying Mokko people, slated to be enslaved, was wrecked near Saint Vincent, an island in the Caribbean. These people settled in the Caribbean island and resolutely resisted colonialist attempts by the French and British. Inspired by the heroic courage of the indigenous people in Saint Vincent, enslaved Africans escaped from the clutches of colonialism and arrived at the Saint Vincent Island. Through the intermixing of enslaved Africans and Caribs-Arawaks, the Garifuna subjectivity was produced which moored its identity in a revolutionary fight against the savagery of slavery and cruelty of colonialism.

While the Treaty of Paris of 1763 granted to Britain the Saint Vincent Island, the Garifuna people fought against colonialism for 34 long years. It was only in 1797 that the British were able to colonize the island of Saint Vincent, segregate the intermixed population and deport the darker colored Mokko to the island of Roatan, off the Northern coast of Honduras. Initially, the Garifuna community faced a lot of xenophobia and Ramon de Anguiano, the intendant governor of Honduras, had suggested that “all this coast be left clean of blacks...before they multiply further…in order to remove them from this Kingdom a people only good for itself [and] useless for our works”.

Later, it dawned on the Spanish officials that they could exploit the expendable bodies of black workers for mahogany tree cultivation and banana production. The Spanish considered the Garifuna as “diligent in agriculture, incessant in the work of cutting exquisite woods, like ‘fish in the water’ for fishing, skillful sailors, and brave soldiers. By virtue of their physical constitution they are strong and robust; for them, these climes are healthy, and they multiply in great numbers—wherefore they are very suitable for populating the immense wastelands of this coast with benefit to the state, and for forming settlements along the roads, which are so sorely lacking.”

Despite the evident exploitation of Garifuna workers by colonial trade, the community’s territory remained protected. The low population density of the coastal territories ensured that Garifuna people continued to cultivate their ancestral lands at least till the late twentieth century. But beginning in the 1990s, Garifuna land ownership got jeopardized as private investments in activities such as coastal tourism, housing and palm oil production became dominant. Dressed in development, these trade activities pulled to pieces the indigenous culture of the Garifuna people.

While the Garifuna people are present in four different countries (Honduras, Belize, Nicaragua and Guatemala), Honduras has the largest Garifuna population at an estimated 250,000 people located primarily within 48 coastal and island communities. For money-grubbing barons, this meant that “development” required enhanced efforts in Honduras where stronger and sterner techniques would have to be used to subjugate such a large population and conquer their large territory. This type of development was initiated in the 1990s, the age of neoliberalism and Washington Consensus, and the Garifuna labeled it as la maldición – the curse.

In 1992, the government passed the 1992 Law for the Modernization and Development of the Agricultural Sector (LMA) which “promoted foreign and domestic investment in agriculture by accelerating land titling and enabling land cooperative members to break up their holdings into small plots to be sold as private lands.” The Congressional Decree 90-90 supplemented LMA by making foreigners eligible for purchasing coastal lands for tourism.

Earlier, the Honduran constitution had restricted such a free-flowing movement of foreign capital through article 107 which had enunciated that “The land of the Republic, municipal, communal and private property situated on the border zones with neighboring states and on the shores of both oceans for 40 kilometers inland, and the islands, cays, reefs, cliffs, and sand banks, may only be acquired and possessed by Hondurans by birth or corporations made up of only Honduran stockholders and by state institutions, punishable by annulment of the respective title or contract.” Now, any foreign capital seeking to build tourism project is allowed to purchase lands within 40 kilometers of the coast.

Impact of Tourism on the Garifuna People

The Honduran government, apart from instituting the Congressional Decree 90-90, has also passed the Tourism Incentives Law in 2017 which has given a number of benefits to tourism in Honduras: touristic initiatives are exempt from taxes on profits for 15 years, taxes on construction-related activities for 5 years and are provided with the freedom to not pay custom duties and tariffs tax for 10 years. These incentives are paying off as international tourism spending increased from $685 million in 2016 to more than $700 million in 2017. While the pockets of select-few Honduran elites and foreign businessmen get filled to the brim, the unsavory side of tourism is being delicately obscured: As European and American “recreational investors” visit Honduras, the Garifuna people get whipped by the scourge of suppression.

According to Christopher A. Loperena, “Tourism, like mining, is an export-based industry, since the products (e.g. hotel stays, package tours, air and ground transportation) are mostly marketed to, and consumed by, foreigners….Touted as sustainable development, the “industry without smoke” entails the intense commodification of natural and cultural resources, giving rise to recurrent conflicts between subsistence based producers and elite investors.” In Honduras, a number of tourism-related conflicts have arisen between the Garifuna collectivity and politically powerful capitalists and international organizations.

In 2007, for example, “Garifuna land between San Martin and Santa Fe was sold by Omar Laredo, president of the Garifuna community, to a local businessman. There was a community consultation in which it was agreed that about 20 hectares would be sold. The businessman paid $5000 to the president of the Garifuna community and then immediately sold the land for US$20,000 to Randy Jorgensen [a Canadian investor]. Without community consultation, however, the amount of land sold had increased to 53 hectares. According to INA [National Agrarian Institute] surveys done later, Jorgensen then actually fenced-in 62 hectares.” In a similarly shoddy manner, lands belonging to the villages of Cristales and Guadalupe were usurped by Canadian investors and the entire village of Rio Negro was evicted to make way for the construction of “Banana Coast” cruise ship port, a project of the Life Vision Properties, a company owned by Randy Jorgen.

John Thompson, a close friend of Randy Jorgensen, while arguing for the benefits of the cruise terminal in Rio Negro, said that “This cruise ship terminal is vitally important to this entire town . . . all these people are going to lose everything that they could possibly have here because of this. Because he’s [referring to Jorgensen] about to give up and go home. And then we’ll be left on our own, with no money, no cruise ships, no passengers, no airport. Nothing. That’s it. So these people are killing the golden goose.” No one apparently knows what else was left for the Garifuna to lose. With the loss of ancestral territories, Garifuna lose everything and according to Miriam Miranda, the coordinator of OFRANEH, “Without our lands, we cease to be a people. Our lands and identities are critical to our lives, our waters, our forests, our culture, our global commons, our territories. For us, the struggle for our territories and our commons and our natural resources is of primary importance to preserve ourselves as a people.”

Eco-tourism, a sub-category of tourism related to the visiting of fragile and endangered ecosystems, is a “green” way of dispossessing Garifuna people and attracting tourists to sanitized places, purged of little impurities called “indigenous people”. The Honduras Caribbean Biological Corridor (HCBC), part of the larger Mesoamerican Biological Corridor (MBC), is one such example of eco-tourism which uses “neoliberal conservation” to build purified (cleansed of indigenous people) eco-tourist destinations. The Jeanette Kawas National Park, present with the HCBC, covers over 70,000 hectares in Tela Bay and houses the Garifuna communities of Miami, Barra Vieja, Tornabe and San Juan. In this national park, intermittent bans are constantly placed on fishing and the areas of cultivation have also been reduced. In the Cayos Cochinos Marine Protected Area (MPA), similar restrictions have been placed on the extraction of marine life, leading to clashes between the inhabitants of Chachahuate, a Garífuna fishing village, and the state security forces.

In both the instances, the “environmentally conscious” policies of the government have undermined the Garifuna’s primary subsistence strategy i.e. fishing. Apart from being the economic foundation of the Garifuna group, fishing is the main protein source for the Garifuna living in the Tela Bay. Moreover, the limiting of land cultivation in the JKNP shows how indifferent capitalists are to the exceptionally viable agricultural practices of the Garifuna people. According to a local Garifuna individual, “We don’t use fertilizers because we don’t want to offend the earth. What do we do? There is a model of working, it’s called Barbecho. We work five years in one area, then we let it ferment and fertilize, and then we occupy another space. This is why our property is collectively owned. Because we need this space, which relates to our functional habitat … so the cultural and ancestral life we are accustomed to can continue. Rights are collective; there is no private property in our way of thinking.” In order to utterly uproot this anti-capitalist idea of land ownership and use, imperialists are effectuating “green grabs” i.e. the violent dispossession of lands in the name of sustainable development and environmental conservation. Instead of overtly and barbarously displacing Garifuna people from their lands, a green grab strategy uses the ideological integument of nature conservation to viably and ecologically expel them from their lands.

Through the deliberate destabilization of existential paradigms, eco-tourist projects are excluding Garifuna people from the ecologies in which these indigenous individuals are embedded. CA Loperena calls this “Garifuna Otherness” which is “packaged as a good to further the development of the Caribbean coast as a tourist destination. Garífuna subsistence practices, including fishing, are not contemplated within national development imaginaries, since environmental foundations view these activities as a threat to the touristic potential of protected areas and the sociospatial order pursued by the Honduran government.”

The Violence of Palm Oil

Honduras is the biggest exporter of palm oil in Central America. In the last two decades, its production has increased by 560%, making it the third largest producer in Latin America and eight largest in the world. This productivity increase has been propelled by a favorable global context where both demand and supply are consistently ballooning. From 15 million tonnes in 1995, global palm oil production has increased to 66 million tonnes in 2017. In response to this rising demand for palm oil, Honduras too expanded its production, exporting almost 50% of its palm oil. While countries such as China, India, USA and Netherlands indifferently import palm oil for manufacturing cosmetics, soaps, toothpastes and consumer retail food, the Garifuna community in Honduras is paying a heavy price for the production of these goods.

Vallecito, a Garifuna ancestral land in the municipality of Limón on the north-east coast, is an appropriate example for depicting the dispossession and disruption which has accompanies palm oil production. In this area, “the INA [National Agrarian Institute] handed out new titles to new ‘settlers’ who promptly sold them to the palm oil magnates. In this area alone, the Garifuna communities went from owning 20,000 hectares to 400 within a decade.” An important and strategic player in this chain of dispossession was Miguel Facusse, a Honduran business magnate labeled by locals as "the palm plantation owner of death”.

Between 1970 and 1989, Facusse had expropriated a large number of Garifuna lands to plant African palm, a product necessary to sustain his prosperous company Dinant which sold detergents, soaps and foodstuffs. In 1989, OFRANEH started a land recuperation campaign, aimed at retrieving an ancestral plot of 1600 hectares that 6 Garifuna cooperatives had cultivated. After sporadic and violent clashes between Dinant’s private security forces and Garifuna activists, the land was finally granted to the latter in 1989 by INA. But this gain was soon reversed by the 1992 Agricultural Modernization Law that, in a period of 5 years, planted African palm in 28,000 hectares of Garifuna land. The Vallecito region too experienced the pressures of palm oil predation as Facusse again arrived in the Vallecito cooperatives in 1995 and initiated his palm oil violence. The INA, after much Garifuna activism, chose to extend its administrative sinews and in 1995, restored the stolen lands. Not demoralized by consecutive failures, Facusse came to Vallecito in 1997 and planted African palm on 100 hectares of Garifuna land. OFRANEH, in response to this intrusion, took this land case to the Honduran court and surprisingly, was able to expel Facusse from that piece of land.

The constant cycle of dispossession in Vallecito continues till the present-day, despite the fact that a 2012 INA survey had confirmed Garifuna ownership of specific lands and had asked Facusse to evacuate the region. In 2019, it was found that armed groups carrying high-caliber weapons were patrolling Vallecito, cutting security wires, randomly shooting at community members and raiding the beach everyday with motorcycles. The Honduran poet Chaco de la Pitoreta’s poem “Ode to the African Palm”, written a few years back, lyrically expresses the current situation in Vallecito:

You came when we least needed you

and remained longer than we expected.

You displaced the ancestral kapok tree that used to

rise upon my fields

and shook off the maize that filled my plains…

Oh, African palm!

neither white, nor black…

red and bloodied.

You are not from the…peasants

nor from Honduras or Central America.

You are of the looters that ruin us,

of Facussé and his killers.

Challenging Development

With the kidnapping of Garifuna people in Honduras, the thick mystificatory veil of development is slowly peeling off. For decades, the Honduran Garifuna community has been culturally compressed and tyrannized into accepting development. The current kidnappings belong to that concatenation of development-oriented cold-bloodedness. Miriam Miranda, while delivering a speech in New York during the September 2014 People’s Climate March, said that “The time has arrived to question the model of ‘development’ that has been imposed on us in these last decades. We cannot accept nor perpetuate this supposed development which doesn’t take into account or respect nature and the earth’s natural resources...We act NOW against the culture of death that we are being condemned to by the grand corporations of death and transnational capital.” In the current conjuncture, we can’t remain silent on the development which has kidnapped Garifuna people and depredated the entire community. The time has come to challenge development.

Yanis Iqbal is a student and freelance writer based in Aligarh, India and can be contacted at yanisiqbal@gmail.com. His articles have been published by different magazines and websites such as Monthly Review Online, ZNet, Green Social Thought, Weekly Worker, News and Letters Weekly, Economic and Political Weekly, Arena, Eurasia Review, Coventry University Press, Culture Matters, Global Research, Dissident Voice, Countercurrents, Counterview, Hampton Institute, Ecuador Today, People’s Review, Eleventh Column, Karvaan India, Clarion India, OpEd News, The Iraq File, Portside and the Institute of Latin American Studies. 

Guns Without Political Education is Like a Journey Without Direction

[Brett Carlsen/Getty Images]

By Ahjamu Umi

Originally published at the author’s blog.

Africans (Black people) everywhere are expressing joy and support for the presence of this Not F – - king Around Coalition (NFAC).  If you don’t know, they are the coalition of armed Africans who have gathered hundreds of armed Africans, mostly men identifying folks, to display weapons and demonstrate symbolic resistance against white supremacy.

The idea is understandable. Five hundred plus years of African people being terrorized systemically all over the world would certainly generate a strong desire on behalf of our people to strike out against the terror we experience.  So, the concept is perfectly valid.  The only question/concern is what the proper response actually is to address our oppression?

The answer to that last question can only be answered one of two ways.  Either we desire to engage in performative actions that make us feel better about the oppression we experience every-day.  Or, we want to figure out how to eliminate this suffering once and for all.

The challenge of this internet/social media based reality we live with today is we all function under the illusion that just because all of us have the same accounts, a computer, and an ability to voice a perspective, it has become normalized for people to believe all opinions matter.  Or, just because someone has the ability to express an opinion in a post, meme, video, etc., that constitutes a perspective where its value is gauged not on the quality of the information within it, but the form in which the perspective is presented.  In other words, form always supersedes essence.  If something looks good, it will get more likes and attention than something with much more substance that doesn’t appeal to us the same way.

As a result, most Africans, and most people overall, are choosing symbolic actions that make us feel better over actual work to eliminate the oppression.  The European woman in Portland, Oregon, U.S. stripping naked and standing/sitting in front of terrorist police makes some of us feel better because for that moment, the police left.  Of course, the gestapo terrorists came back with a vengeance the very next night, probably further infuriated that they couldn’t terrorize as they wanted the night before. This reality hasn’t stopped scores of primarily European observers from praising this individual act. This symbolic act, as if it represents some tangible victory.  This is the surreal reality we face when we know not one less African has been brutalized by state-sanctioned terrorists anywhere on earth as a result of that woman showing her genitals to those terrorists.

By the same token, these Africans come out in the thousands with these guns.  There is no clear plan or idea about how the guns will be used.  And, as someone who has lots of experience handling firearms, I was more than a little squeamish watching the video of the action today, about how careless many of the armed participants were in handling their weapons (and that was before there were reports of gunshots at the action).

Still, more than a few Africans and other goodhearted people were jumping to the ceiling at the sight of these armed Africans, as if this symbolic action was going to intimidate one gestapo cop or white supremacist from their plans to terrorize any of us.  In fact, the videos from today’s events show glimpses of the white right militia members of the Three Percenters present at the NFAC action.  I’m speaking as an activist/organizer who has stood up against the Three Percenters on multiple occasions.  If those Africans permitted those clear white supremacists (their name depicts their racist interpretation of the history of how this country was formed) to rub shoulders with them armed, that’s nothing we should feel any comfort and strength from. 

There should be absolutely no question that guns, no matter how many of them, without organized political education guiding the usage and existence of the guns, is never a good formula.  Guns without political education, like the title says; is like a journey that has absolutely no direction.  We like the guns and the imagery because it symbolizes us having the power to defend our lives, but as was demonstrated when the shots rang out earlier today, the police – the same gestapos we are in the streets protesting in the first place – were able to instantly take control of the day, despite the presence of all of those Africans with guns.  If nothing else, that should show you how its performative and not anything designed to build capacity and strength for our liberation because if it was, we could never surrender our authority to the same gestapos who are killing us.

The final conclusion for us has to be that even if we have a militia of 10,000 people, even 50,000, while the overwhelming majority of our people are not even involved in any organization, that represents no real strength for the masses of our people.  Instead, it has the potential to be a detriment to our forward progress.  Our history is full of examples of paramilitary groups with no political education and clearly this has not worked out well for us.  In Azania (South Africa), we had the Inkatha Movement in the 80s which was mobilized by the racist apartheid regime to use its massive military strength to work against the African National Congress, the Pan-Africanist Congress of Azania, the Black Consciousness Movement, the Azanian People’s Organization, and all the anti-apartheid forces operating there.  This was possible because of the lack of political education which caused people who rallied around Inkatha to believe the talking points that the anti-apartheid organizations mentioned were fronts for outside “communist agitators.”  In the same vein, the U.S. government was able to manipulate the lack of political maturity within our Black power organizations to easily facilitate violence between the Black Panther Party and the US Organization in which a number of Panthers, including Alprentice “Bunchy” Carter and John Huggins were killed on the UCLA campus in 1969.  There are volumes written by those who lived through those experiences expressing dismay at the toxic masculinity, patriarchy, and the use of guns without the level of organization to ensure the masses are being organized to confront the state to seize power (the only logical reason weapons should ever exist for us).

Until we get people engaged with organizations, the guns are useless.  We realize that Mao Tse Tung said “power grows out of the barrel of the gun” but his statement should be viewed in the context of the mass organization that his Communist Party in China certainly demonstrated. Without the organized masses – which requires people in organizations – we can’t do anything with guns above just attempting theater to make us feel better about the system continuing to dominate our lives.  At least the good news is simple.  Join some organization working for justice and if you don’t see an organization you feel you can join, start one.  And make sure your organization has a strong political education process.  Once those components are in place, you can add community defense projects that help you train with weapons, but all of that work should always be couched in political education.  Once we recognize this, we can really begin getting to work towards liberation.

Systemic Racism and the Prison-Industrial Complex in the 'Land of the Free'

[Image by Keith Negley via NY Times]

By Holly Barrow

Following the tragic murder of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin on 25th May, the world has erupted into protest to demand an end to the vicious racism which continues to infiltrate society. At the forefront of this crucial public discourse on race lies the criminal justice system as it has disproportionately targeted and traumatized BIPOC (Black, Indigenous and people of color) communities for decades.

Systemic racism and inequality is intrinsic to law enforcement in the US, with mass incarceration riddled with racial disparities. From the thirteenth amendment loophole to the War on Drugs, Black communities have suffered exponentially under this facade of ‘justice’, with families torn apart as a result. The War on Drugs is in fact one of the plainest and most brazen examples of heavily racialized laws borne out of a desire to incriminate Black communities. When looking at initial federal sentences for crack cocaine offenses, such inequalities within law enforcement become strikingly clear: conviction for crack selling - more heavily sold and used by people of color — resulted in a sentence 100 times more severe than selling the same amount of powder cocaine — more heavily sold and used by white people.

This is no coincidence and just one example of a system patently stacked against low-income, Black communities. We need only look at some key statistics to recognize how deeply this goes: African Americans are more likely than white Americans to be arrested, are more likely to be convicted and are more likely to experience lengthy prison sentences. Beyond this, African American adults are 5.9 times as likely to be incarcerated as white adults.

In light of such disproportionate arrest and convictions of Black people in the US, dismantling the current prison system - particularly the prison-industrial complex - is key in the fight against racism. The prison-industrial complex describes the overlapping interests of government and industry; essentially, it refers to the corruption at the heart of the criminal justice system in the use of prisons as a mechanism for profit.

This is a system that abolitionists and activists have been attempting to eradicate for decades as it has become increasingly clear over the years that there is a very real and dangerous incentive to incarcerate human beings. With the rise of for-profit prison systems has come further exploitation of predominantly African-American men and other ethnic minorities. With regards to class, this system additionally hurts low-income citizens at a significantly higher rate, with many recognizing the harrowing reality that, in the US, poverty is often treated as a crime.

Poor and minority defendants are typically unable to access the same level of protection and defense as their wealthier counterparts. Similarly, the state recognizes the likelihood of their inability to afford bail, with over 10 million Americans in prison as they await trial on low-level misdemeanors or violations simply because they cannot afford the bail set for them. This keeps prisons filled; a key proponent of the prison-industrial complex.

With police officers incentivized to make arrests as they are aware that police departments will not be funded adequately if there is no motive to do so, and billion-dollar corporations having stakes in the private prison system - from technology such as tagging to hospitality for inmates - incarceration has become a means to generate wealth and boost local economies. This comes at the expense of the most marginalized groups, namely poor people of color.

Regrettably, this line between ‘justice’, ‘protection’ and corporate interest is becoming comparably distorted across immigration removal centers. And again, it is BIPOC who largely fall victim to this. Detention, surveillance and border wall construction have all become big business, with approximately two-thirds of all detainees being held in for-profit facilities. Tech companies have thrived off of tracking migrants, with software company Palantir holding a $38 million contract with ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement).

To provide further insight into just how money-oriented the detention of predominantly vulnerable individuals - such as asylum seekers - has become, we can observe the distressing rise in shares in the largest prison company in the world. Shares in CoreCivic — which runs both private prison facilities and detention centers — spiralled by 40% when Trump was elected as president. This came following his promises to deport thousands and demonstrates a clear recognition that this would see private, for-profit immigration detention facilities boom.

To deny the concerning correlation between incarceration - both within prisons and detention facilities - and investment suggests willful ignorance. The treatment of prisons and detention facilities as money-making machines is of detriment to democracy and makes a mockery of those who hail America as the ‘land of the free.’

In fighting systemic racism, we cannot neglect to tackle the prison-industrial complex. Its roots and very mechanisms are rooted in the oppression of the most marginalized.

Holly Barrow is a political correspondent for the Immigration Advice Service; an organization of immigration lawyers based in the UK and the US

Childhood and Exodus

By Richard Allen

Originally published at Theology Corner.

…Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

Matthew 18:3 (NRSV)

The praxis of the linguistic animal does not have a definite script, nor does it produce a final outcome, precisely because it continuously retraces anthropogenesis.

Paolo Virno, When the Word Becomes Flesh: Language and Human Nature (2015)

By any reasonable metric, I am a bad Marxist. I never finished reading the first volume of Capital. Moreover, my entrance to the Marxist ecosystem came through a circuitous route, beginning with Christian appropriators of Derrida, slowly working through assorted figureheads within twentieth-century critical theory, and settling on the Italian autonomia movement as my base framework. Clearly, orthodoxy is not my strong suit. Likewise, one might also say that I am a bad Christian. I tend to bristle at vehement defenses of objectivity and static truth within Christian discourse. Certainly, it would be unfair to label oneself as “Christian” without basic affirmation of specific theological assumptions. However, suffice it to say, I find inventiveness a far more enticing approach than mere acquiescence to “the way things are.” Truth, at least the sort of truth necessary for spiritual or political liberation, needs more emphasis on radical potential compared to aged rigidity.

One of the underlying questions common to any version of Marxist thought and practice is: how does one exit an oppressive environment? What tools, paths, and ideas aid the quest for liberation? How do we actualize liberation? Furthermore, we see that this question assumes any oppressive environment exists within tangible, fleshly materiality. In other words, even in spiritual or religious contexts, oppression always takes material form, despite any connection to metaphysical or revelatory ideas. It affects our bodies and consciousness. We sense this cognitively and feel it physically. It changes the material nature of our existence. Put simply, if oppression always takes a material form and alters our tangible experience of the world, then liberation will always respond in like kind. If oppression is material, so too is liberation.

Returning to the initial question—how does one exit an oppressive environment?—it seems clear that a turn toward static truth is not necessarily the wisest decision. How can we solely rely upon elements and ideas of old in order to actualize the liberation we seek for oppressed peoples? In my view, a turn toward inventiveness, the process of creating “new” truth by “resting” within the expansive field of pure potentiality (more on this later), carries within it greater capacity for liberation. This is not to say what passes for orthodoxy in any tradition, spiritual or otherwise, holds no value. Rather, at some point we must return to a new understanding of subjectivity and being in our way of analyzing the world so that we can more easily see through the structures which sustain oppression. We must recognize that as conditioned subjects within the ecosystem of late capitalism we learn to make basic assumptions which arguably sustain the very structures that sustain oppression, even if our intention resists that assumption (I’ve written more about this here).

In his latest piece for Cultural Politics entitled “The Aesthetics of Exodus: Virno and Lyotard on Art, Timbre, and the General Intellect” educator and activist Derek R. Ford uses Virno’s analysis of potential, performance, and the “general intellect” in conjunction with Lyotard’s treatment of art and music to describe an “exodus” from subjectivity as such toward a “de-individualized,” fugitive retreat from capitalism. Ford offers an erudite reading of both Virno and Lyotard, and his use of aesthetic theory to ground this fugitive act toward exodus carries great potential for liberative politics. My goal in this response is to expand upon Ford and Virno’s work. As an (informal) student of Virno and the Italian autonomia movement more broadly, I share similar conclusions to what Ford suggests. Say what you will about the sometimes fraught relationship between postmodern thought and Marxism (in this case, represented by Lyotard) or autonomia and Marxism (represented by Virno) there is certainly no shortage of radical, liberative possibilities when these respective traditions encounter each other.

More specifically, Virno’s treatment of infancy and the radical potential inherent to language should be a necessary component of any radical politic. Ford describes Virno’s reinterpretation of the “general intellect” in Marx’s writings as “indeterminate,” preferring instead to read the general intellect as pure potential rather than “particular knowledges and thoughts.” As I’ve written elsewhere, Virno’s understanding of “potential” as an unlimited field of productive praxis—since the linguistic animal speaks but does not exhaust the potential of the speech-act—represents a helpful corrective to aged assumptions common to the most militantly orthodox Marxists among us. In short, by recognizing a space wherein praxis finds its potential before actualization allows for a renewed understanding of how much power we have in the pursuit of liberation or “exodus” (both for the individual and the multitude). If I consciously remain aware that my speech does not ever touch the boundary lines of pure potential, which lies in wait before the utterance, then I can find new ways of living and being through the field of potential, boundless and unformed as it is. However, in order to more clearly see the usefulness of said potential, we must all undergo “desubjectification.”

In Virno’s text When the Word Becomes Flesh: Language and Human Nature, he describes the speech-act as ritualistic. “The ceremony of the voice, the occurrence of speech, makes the speaker visible as the bearer of the power to speak” (p. 56). Language is performative, similar to the virtuosity of a musician playing an instrument or an actor transforming into another character. There is something ethereal to the act of speaking, where we enact cultural and environmental rituals unconsciously, expressed through the declarative utterance (“egocentric”) “I speak.” We bring to presence the power of language’s potential as we speak. Additionally, Virno brings the “egocentric” language of children into play just a few pages over, “The child, when verbally announcing what he or she is doing, is not describing an action, but completes a secondary, auxiliary action (the production of an enunciation), whose goal is the visibility of its subject” (p. 63). When one speaks, they perform two tasks: first, they consciously emit vocalized sounds; second, they unconsciously enact “anthropogenesis,” or the production of the subject. This second task, which Virno describes as an “auxiliary action,” is where we find the liberative potential of human language. It is how the subject presents themselves as a subject, or how they “individualize” themselves, which means that behind any form of language (intelligible or otherwise) there lies a space of limitless potential, the potential for speech, which cannot be exhausted. If the multitude understands the power of potential then they can more easily engender new speech to actualize liberation.

Likewise, Ford is correct when, in tandem with Virno, he writes:

Through the acquisition of language, the child is separated from their surroundings through individuation, hence the significance of “I speak.” By learning language, we encounter the disjuncture between the world and ourselves because we discover that we can change the world and that the world can change us.”

Through childhood and the development of our linguistic faculties, we undergo conscious and unconscious individualization, a gradual understanding of our distinction from the world even as we recognize our place within it and its effects upon our life. The problem lies in the ways capitalism forms our respective identities or individualization as we practice the act of speech. This conditioning teaches us prescriptive or authoritative ways of speech which only serve to reify existing structures and assumptions. Thus, while in a general sense, despite these oppressive restrictions upon the way in which the individual speaks under capitalism the individual never truly loses access to pure potential behind the utterance, exodus allows us to retreat from the confines of capital in order to learn new ways of speaking. Because the capacity for speech is limitless, the potential for new language to unlock liberation awaits us, so long as we make an exodus from capitalism. The way out is through a regression of sorts or a “de-individualization,” a return to childhood. In Ford’s words, “As a recursive state, childhood…is the return to potentiality in order to actualize differently.”

Turning our attention toward the biblical text cited above, when asked who deserves recognition as the “greatest” in the kingdom of heaven, Jesus responds with a seemingly odd analogy. Bringing a child to his side, Jesus instructs his followers that “unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (emphasis added). At first glance, Jesus’ words seem to refer to obvious differences in societal status (the child being one of the “lowest” members of society) as a way to highlight the necessity of humility when responding to the divine. However, in light of what Ford and Virno suggest in reference to childhood, we see an expanded, materialist vision of the spiritual insight Jesus offers. Childhood is not merely a state of simple humility, although it includes this dimension. Instead, childhood is the closest any of us come to understanding and accessing the pure potential of language. Put another way, childhood is the closest we come to the innocence of simply being human in the world, unburdened by the demands we experience later in our life through capitalist individualization. If childhood is where we learn language, then the only way we can actualize liberation under the confines of the world is to learn to speak differently. In the same way that the only way one can “enter” the kingdom of heaven is to become like a child, the only way we can “enter” liberation is to, in some sense, leave “adulthood” or what passes for our being as we age. I must emphasize that all of this takes place within material form. None of this regression is possible in the abstract. It relies upon the physical and biological capacity to speak.

Thus, I contend, in what I believe to be a shared pursuit of both Ford and Virno, that the only way to liberation is through an exodus of being, leaving behind and stripping away the linguistic assumptions of late capitalism. By returning to a state of being closest to the often untapped potential of speech, we can more easily learn new words, new phrases, and new public utterances which aid the quest for liberation. This process de-individualizes from the world in order to fashion a radical understanding of subjectivity over and against the assumptions made toward subjectivity through capitalism. As Ford states:

Exodus subverts the dominant ideology of individuality by posing childhood as a project that connects the individual back to the general intellect in its potentiality rather than its potential actualizations.

In short, in order to progress, we must first regress and mine the fields of potential we have long forgotten; we must become like children in order to retrace our steps in the pursuit of justice and liberation for all. As mentioned earlier, what passes for orthodoxy tends to reify existing structures and assumptions. Orthodoxy will not save us. We must remake the world entirely, and the only path toward this vision is through childlike inventiveness.

Let us all make the exodus from subjectivity, individualization, and being toward the horizon of pure potentiality, where like children, we have the chance to form ourselves.

The Case Against the Fourth of July

By Ryan Wentz

In 1992, indigenous leaders succeeded in pressuring Berkeley, California to drop the Columbus Day holiday and replace it with Indigenous Peoples Day. Since then, hundreds of U.S. cities and a handful of U.S. states have followed suit. This shift is merely symbolic, but it does reflect a change in how the general public understands American history. Today, in 2020, a national uprising against anti-Black state violence has pushed the discourse into uncharted territory: all around the country, protesters are tearing down statues of notorious racists, from Christopher Columbus to Thomas Jefferson. This reckoning is long overdue; American exceptionalism, militarism, and patriotism must be challenged. Displays and celebrations of oppressive structures like settler colonialism and white supremacy must be put to rest. This year and each of the next, don’t celebrate the Fourth of July.

As it was in 1776, the U.S. today is a genocidal, anti-indigenous, and anti-Black settler colony;  the country’s anti-indigenous, anti-Black past has transformed into an anti-indigenous, anti-Black present. The U.S. government’s response to the ongoing coronavirus pandemic and national uprising against racist police violence illuminates how little it values indigenous and Black lives. For indigenous communities, coronavirus has been especially devastating. Navajo Nation has recorded more cases per-capita than any U.S. state, and had to sue the federal government to receive the funding that it was promised. Meanwhile, police forces across the country continue to terrorize Black communities. That this global pandemic has not been able to slow down state terror against Black people speaks volumes. In fact, authorities have cracked down harder; police murdered Breonna Taylor and George Floyd, among others, during this global pandemic. Additionally, it is stunning to compare how authorities have responded to protests for justice for Black people with protests demanding the U.S. reopen its economy. 

Considering that the Fourth of July is a celebration of the U.S. and its so-called “independence,” perhaps it’s important to relitigate why the so-called “Founding Fathers” fought the British. In his 2014 book, “The Counter-Revolution of 1776: Slave Resistance and the Origins of the United States of America,” Dr. Gerald Horne asserts that the revolution was in fact a counterrevolution to preserve slavery. At the time, the British empire was inching closer to abolishing slavery, which scared American capitalists who relied on slave labor to accumulate massive fortunes. Thus, the following question must be asked: what is the Fourth of July actually celebrating, if not the creation of an inherently violent settler colony built on stolen land by stolen labor? 

These are the types of difficult questions that we must ask ourselves as we seriously interrogate U.S. history. It may be unpleasant, or even earth-shattering, to reconsider the narrative that we have been told about the U.S. But that is precisely what needs to happen; the public must grapple with the lies that it has been told to justify and uphold white supremacy, settler colonialism, imperialism, and capitalism. 

Every year on July 4th, it is nearly impossible to escape the flag-waving and fireworks. We can, however, reject everything that the holiday stands for and make the choice not to celebrate it. The U.S. government is currently terrorizing entire indigenous and Black communities both inside and outside of its colonial borders; we cannot go on ignoring these crimes.

In Bolivia, for example, last year’s U.S.-backed military coup forced Evo Morales, the first indigenous leader in a country with an indigenous majority, into exile. The coup regime and its supporters are explicitly racist towards Bolivia’s indigenous communities; in 2013, Jeanine Áñez, the unelected leader who has ruled the country since November, tweeted that “I dream of a Bolivia free of satanic indigenous rites.” Additionally, after the coup, its supporters declared: “Bolivia is for Christ.” Many burned Wiphala flags, a symbol of Bolivia’s indigenous majority. In the following weeks, the military massacred at least 18 indigenous protesters in Sacaba and Senkata. Protests against the unelected government continue to this day.

In addition, U.S. support for the Israeli occupation and colonization of Palestine illuminates how central anti-indigenous racism is to U.S. policy. In 1923, Vladimir Jabotinsky, an influential Zionist leader, wrote: “Zionist colonization must either be terminated or carried out against the wishes of the native population.” Today, as Israel moves closer to the annexation of the occupied West Bank, Zionist leaders share the same understanding. The U.S., meanwhile, enables Israel to colonize Palestine “against the wishes of the native population” by providing its military with $3.8 billion per year, approximately $10 million per day, to continue ethnically cleansing Palestine and entrenching the illegal occupation. 

Just as it has propped up anti-indigenous movements around the world, the U.S. has supported explicitly anti-Black regimes, like in Apartheid South Africa. In November 1973, the U.N. General Assembly adopted the International Convention on the Suppression and Punishment of the Crime of Apartheid (ICSPCA). The U.S., however, neither signed nor ratified the convention. Over one decade later, in 1984, Archbishop Desmond Tutu, one of the leaders of the anti-apartheid movement, declared that “apartheid is an evil as immoral and unchristian in my view as Nazism, and in my view the Reagan administration's support in collaboration with it is equally immoral, evil, and totally unchristian, without remainder.” The U.S., along with its Western allies, was one of the last states to officially cut ties with the apartheid regime in South Africa.

In the twenty-first century, the U.S.’s assault on Black lives on the African continent has continued. The U.S. has been meddling in Somalia for over three decades, and continues to drone bomb the country with impunity. Meanwhile, the U.S., with the support of N.A.T.O. and Western-backed rebels, overthrew Libyan leader Muammar Gaddafi in 2011. By 2011, Libya was atop the African continent in Human Development Index; nearly 85% of Libyans were literate, while the average life expectancy hovered around 75. Yet because Gaddafi refused to completely submit to Western imperialists, he was deemed a threat that needed to be taken out. Today, Libya is a collapsed state where Black people are being sold in open-air slave markets.

The U.S.’s horrific treatment of indigenous and Black communities abroad is a reflection of the crimes it has committed against both communities at home. It is essential that we understand that anti-indigenous and anti-Black racism is foundational to the existence of the U.S.; without them, there would be no U.S. empire. Thus, celebrating the U.S. is celebrating anti-indigenous and anti-Black racism. It is celebrating settler colonialism, ethnic cleansing, slavery, genocide, and imperialism. Ultimately, what Christopher Columbus represents is no different from what the U.S. represents.

Ryan Wentz (any pronouns) is a Los Angeles-based field organizer for Beyond the Bomb, a grassroots organization committed to preventing nuclear war. Ryan has experience in the anti-war and Palestine solidarity movements, and has in the past worked at the American Friends Service Committee and CODEPINK. 

What to the African American is the Fourth of July?

[PHOTO CREDIT: BOSTON GLOBE]

By Christian Gines

I. Every time a firecracker pops I think of every pop of a whip that cracked a back of my ancestor
An uncle or aunt
A cousin
A best friend

Every whip that drove my people
Deeper
*Whip*
Deeper
*Whip*
Deeper
Into oppression
Every whip that moved my parents
One step farther from their homeland
And closer to their new land
A land that’s not really theirs
Where they are a troublesome presence
A land where they are 3/5 of a person
“A slave”
“A nigger”
“A coon”
“A boy”
“A negro”
“A convict”
“A drug dealer”
“A thug”
A
ME

II. Every time a firecracker pops I can hear their fingers pop
The blood seeping out
A paper cut
But from thorns
The same color of the white stuff that they make out of trees 
But the white that makes the white people a lot of money 
The pop that makes me want to complain and get Band-Aid 
But the pop that if they didn’t keep picking then they would be DEAD
I think of the crackling heat of that day
Gleaming on their flared backs
“How is it that we hear the loudest yelps for liberty among the drivers of Negroes?”

III. Every time a firecracker pops I think of the popped naps
The naps from the black panther party that uncurled into an Afro
The naps of my people that remains
Un kept
Un picked
Un bothered
To reflect that we are from our homeland Africa
To reflect that we belong here in America
To show that we shouldn’t be defined by our haircuts or our skin color
To show that when we pick our hair it is a symbol of black power
And that power doesn’t have to infringe on anyone else
For some reason I have to say that
But when you’re accustomed to privilege
Equality feels like oppression
When I pop my knuckles I think of all the black women that struggle with their natural hair 
That need to pop their naps to fit into what society preaches
So they can seem intelligent and smart
So they can be accepted into a society that stresses how they can and should look

IV. Every time a firecracker pops I think of the hanging nooses
The nooses that have my brothers head hanging in them 
That pop
One piece of rope at a time it pops
Waiting on the limb to break
POP
There it goes again
Another black boy dead
When I pop my knuckles I think of the gunshots that go off unexpectedly
One that didn’t have to happen
One that makes another black boy disappear from this earth like nothing ever happens
And when I pop my knuckles I think of
99% percent of those gavels that leave those officers convicted of nothing
And how this criminal justice system fails us
Time and time again
And when I pop my knuckles I think of the moment when that time will stop
And a pop will sound but
It will be a firework of equality and justice
Spreading across the world one by one
On a path that will stop only when that pop is a firework on June 19th not July 4th

V. Every time a firecracker pops I think of Thurgood Marshall and his fight for equality
I think of him hitting his gavel as the first black on the Supreme Court of the United States of America
When I pop my knuckles I think of the jails locked forever
The mass incarceration of African Americans
I think of the closing of MLK’s jail cell and the letters he sent from there
I think of the killings of 
Medgar Evers
Malcolm X

Fred Hampton

Patrice Lumumba
Laquon McDonald
Eric Garner
Sandra Bland
Freddie Gray

Trayvon Martin
Stephon Clark

Sandra Bland
Kaleif Browner

Ahmaud Arbery

George Floyd

Breonna Taylor

Oluwatoyin Salau


 VI. Every time a firecracker pops I think of the last poll closing on election night in 2008 
Black people were lynched for this right
I think of the opening of the White House door
And the hope that came with it
The dream that we could become a better America

VII. Every time a firecracker pops I think of Crispus Attucks
The first person killed in the Revolutionary war
A black person
Not even fighting for his own freedom
We have fought in every American war
We are more likely to join the army than any other race
But we're still not seen as American
Yet you still hate us
You brought us over here yet you hate us
We were told once, by virtue of our bondage, that we could never be American.
But like Langston Hughes said
They’ll see how beautiful I am/And be ashamed —/I, too, am America.”

David Walker's Appeal: Thinking About White Supremacy's Archenemy As We Approach July 4th

[PHOTO CREDIT: AP/NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY]

By Robert Bohm

David Walker (1976?-1830), a free black parented by a slave father and a freedwoman, he was born and raised in Wilmington, North Carolina, although he left there as an adult to travel in various states. He didn't depart out of boredom or simple restlessness. But because of disgust.

If I remain in this bloody land, I will not live long. . . . I cannot remain where I must hear slaves' chains continually and where I must encounter the insults of their hypocritical enslavers.[1] ("David Walker" 2020)

Eventually, he ended up in Boston. There, he settled down, married and had two children.

Although what we know of Walker biographically is far from complete, we at least know one thing about him with certainty—

By the time he arrived in Boston he was a knowledgeable abolitionist. But he wasn't merely one among many abolitionists. He was on the verge of becoming the author of David Walker's Appeal[2], the most ferocious and multipronged analysis of white supremacy and slavery up until its publication in1829.

In it, he not only laid out a justification for, and a call for, a slave uprising, but also paved the way for future thinker-activists who explored the nature of racial and colonial oppression from what came to be called a psychohistorical standpoint. Such persons included W.E.B. Du Bois and Franz Fanon.  

If anyone is relevant to our era with regard to US racism, its history, white supremacy, and incite into, and rage against, the persistence of these things, it is David Walker.

He has something informative to say to everyone recently in the streets following George Floyd's murder.

He also has something darker to say to those who occupy our nation's seats of power.

Contexts

In spite of this legacy, Walker remains one of the least known of the early 19th century's black liberationists. This is in spite of the fact that it reasonably can be argued that no student can grasp the Declaration of Independence's (US 1776) status as an historical document without also reading Walker's Appeal[3] which critiques both Thomas Jefferson's vision of race and the Declaration's role in a racialized America as a white privilege document — one, however, which Walker believed was subvertable by blacks if they employed, in an act of transgressive chutzpah, the Declaration's own words to assault US racism. Which is exactly what Walker did.

In doing so, he instantly turned the Appeal into one-half of a Siamese twins relationship with the Declaration, tying the black freedom-fighter's vision and the white oppressor's vision together forever in all their historical complexity. Consequently, it's impossible for US citizens or anyone else to grasp the Declaration's significance without also reading Walker's deconstruction of it in the Appeal.

That the Appeal possessed visceral power was clear from the moment it was published. Almost instantly, southern officials and other whites responded to it with alarm. As the Appeal's circulation in the south began, a bounty was placed on Walker's head — $3,000 for simply killing him and $10,000 for the more complex feat of capturing him alive, then returning him to the south for (it seems clear) torture and execution.[4] ("David Walker" 2020)

But the money on Walker's head was only one part of the south's enraged response. To reduce the possibility of slave rebellion, new antiblack laws were passed throughout the region while old ones were toughened. Georgia, as an example, passed legislation that made circulation of antislavery manifestos subject to the death penalty. During the same period, in other states from Virginia to Louisiana, laws against teaching slaves to read and write were made harsher, prohibitions against slaves gathering in groups without white oversight were passed, and it was made illegal for freedmen and freedwomen to interact with slaves. Even the Columbian Centinel, a Boston publication, editorialized that these measures were justified to guarantee "The immediate safety of the whites."[5]

The panic that precipitated these responses to the Appeal was triggered by Walker's call to arms in a society already riven by fear of what blacks would do to whites if slaves united and revolted. That there were slaves willing to take great risks and even die in their fight for freedom was something whites knew well, since examples of such incidents were preserved in folklore and historical memory.

One of the first of these incidents occurred in the late 1600s when four blacks were hanged after slaves and white indentured servants joined forces to attack their Virginia owners. Another was the 1739 Stono Rebellion in South Carolina during which slaves killed and beheaded whites, then marched toward Spanish controlled Florida in the hope of finding freedom there. And only twenty years prior to Walker's treatise, an 1811 uprising in Louisiana, numbering approximately five hundred slaves at its maximum strength, burned plantations and killed slave-owners, then later, using guns, hoes, axes, clubs and anything else they could lay their hands on, battled two better-armed white militias until the uprising was crushed as the rebels tried to reach New Orleans which they'd planned to conquer.

Closer in time to the Appeal's publication, the 1820s also provided fodder for white worries, particularly with regard to fugitive slaves who, hiding in out-of-the-way places in the southern states, adopted arson as a kind of guerrilla weapon, setting fire to key locations in certain cities, then fleeing[6] and thus stoking white paranoia about the ever-present potential of black retaliation.

‌Another source of white uneasiness during this period was the 1822 slave conspiracy led by Denmark Vesey in Charleston, South Carolina.

Vesey, a skilled carpenter and freedman, initiated the conspiracy out of a long-lasting hatred of slavery which was further aggravated by the fact that his wife and children were still enslaved. His family's plight was further compounded by a recent change in local laws which made the process by which slaves could be freed more difficult.

Working from these interlaced motives, Vesey recruited an initial group of Charleston slaves (domestics, general laborers, blacksmiths and other skilled workers, etc.,) to become part of the planned uprising. Once this cadre was pulled together, the group further expanded its numbers via secret meetings through which it brought in new members from unrepresented parts of the city as well as from the countryside. The intended insurgence to which these women and men pledged their support was a three-part revolt designed to be both an uprising against and an escape from slavery.

The plan's three phases consisted of the following.

First, on the designated date, July 14, 1822, slaves were to arise in the middle of the night, then slay their white masters and families. Second, those from the countryside were to combine with those from Charleston to take over the city, torch its buildings, kill any whites who interfered, and steal the city's weapons supplies. Third, the rebels were to march as a united force to the city's docks, requisition ships for their use, then sail to Haiti where blacks had overthrown white French colonists two decades earlier.

As reported in the official summary of events, Negro Plot. An Account of the Late Intended Insurrection, the rebellion was quelled a month and a half prior to its scheduled onset. This happened when a Charleston "gentlemen of great respectability" heard of the plot from "a favourite and confidential slave of his" who learned about it from another slave.[7] (James Hamilton, Negro Plot, 2020) When the slave-owner relayed what he'd discovered to the authorities, it set off a chain of events which in a matter of days ended badly for the conspirators. Of the 131 arrested in raids, 35, including Vesey, were hanged as the prime instigators. Others received lesser sentences, and some were acquitted.[8] Also, untold numbers of other committed participants retreated, unnamed and unrevealed, into the silence of their previous lives.

As the court-imposed death sentences given to Vesey and the thirty-four others who were hanged showed, they were sentenced not only for the conspiracy per se, but for their supposed strangeness as Africans, a strangeness perceived by whites as a kind of precivilized spiritual disfigurement which reduced blacks to less-than-human creatures controlled by brutish instincts and prone to crude forms of occultism.

Typical of how this attitude manifested itself in the court's proceedings is the wording of the court's findings with regard to each individual found guilty. A case in point is one Jack Pritchard, aka Gullah Jack, whom the court accused of rejecting "natural and ordinary means" in helping to develop the plot and instead employing "the most disgusting mummery and superstition" to achieve the conspirators' ends. Furthermore, the court found that such behavior could "excite no other emotion in the mind of the intelligent and enlightened, but contempt and disgust" and therefore Gullah Jack should know that no matter what kind of conjuring he practiced or barbaric beliefs he held, "all the powers of darkness cannot rescue you from your approaching fate!"[9]

(It's appropriate to take note here of how different types of othering employ similar forms of demonization. The phrases "disgusting mummery" and "all the powers of darkness" could just as easily be quotes from the Salem witch trial judges in 1692-93 as from racist whites rabid to punish the Vesey conspirators one-hundred-thirty years later.)

Although by the time the Appeal reached the south, the failed 1822 conspiracy, and even more so the earlier rebellions, might seem from our perspective today to have been sufficiently in the past to no longer impact whites, this wasn't the case.

Living in a world in which acts of slave insolence and memories of old slave revolts regularly stirred white society's fears of what black revenge might look like if it succeeded, stories of such incidents, present or past, weren't soon forgotten. Regarding the Vesey conspiracy, the memory of its apparently large size (it was rumored to include thousands of co-conspirators)[10] and massive ambition (its aim was to flee the country for Haiti)[11] still reminded whites in 1829 of their need to always be on the alert and, when necessary, to crush black anger the moment it appeared.

This was the context in which the Appeal's appearance in the south triggered white rage, bolstered antiblack laws and increased vigilantism. What made matters even more enraging for the slave-owning hierarchy was Walker's distribution network, which initially baffled them because of the author's sly use of commercial sailors from the waterfront near his Boston shop to smuggle copies into the south on their cargo trips, then deliver them into the hands of slaves, manumitted slaves and white antislavers.

What grabbed readers' attention — including white supremacists who invariably got hold of copies — about the Appeal was Walker's writing style, a combination of pulpit-pounding oratory, knifeblade-sharp analysis, and a self-confident tone which ranged from insurrectionary to mockery.

Not surprisingly, many slaves and antislavers were moved and/or inspired by the author's rhetoric, whereas bigots and go-alongs loathed it. Even some abolitionists regarded it suspiciously. Many of these believed, as did William Lloyd Garrison, the famous white abolitionist, that the pamphlet's tone was aggressive and promoted violence. 

We deprecate the spirit and tendency of this Appeal . . . We do not preach rebellion — no, but submission and peace . . . We say, that the possibility of a bloody insurrection at the south fills us with dismay.[12]

So, even here, among Walker's supposed allies, there were those offended by the Appeal's fiery style and its call for a so-called "bloody insurrection." What those like Garrison who were offended by this aspect of Walker's argument failed to grasp (or did grasp but refused to support) was that Walker's demand for full equality resembled nothing so much as the Declaration of Independence's proclamation, "That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive" of people's right to "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness . . . it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it."

Unlike Garrison, Walker understood that he had framed his Appeal in the only way it could successfully be framed in the US—by using the young nation's own words against it. The Declaration, after all, consisted of nothing more than one part of the British population (the colonies) proclaiming war against another part (those living in Britain (the exploiters). That war, which was precisely the type of "bloody insurrection" which Garrison wanted to deny to blacks, ended with the colonies' secession from Britain and their formation into the United States. Although Walker didn't want secession for slaves and free blacks, he did employ the Declaration's formula—i.e., of one part of a population declaring war against another part in the name of freedom—for the purpose of agitating for black liberation from white rule.

David Walker

David Walker

In this regard, Walker's assertion in the Appeal that it was better to "kill or be killed . . . rather . . . than to be a slave to a tyrant"[13] perfectly echoed the Declaration. For him, the July 4th document wasn't a fantasy about freedom, it was a text which validated precisely what Garrison denounced in the Appeal: the right to "preach rebellion" in order to stir the oppressed (in this case, not the colonies but slaves) to rise up against their tormenters, just as the colonies had done against Britain.

Between Garrison and Walker, Walker's read of the Declaration's implications was clearly deeper and more exploratory.  

Another white abolitionist who rejected the Appeal was Benjamin Lundy whose critique, although similar to Garrison's at a certain level, contained a more noticeable paternalism in the way he expressed his need to "set the broadest seal of condemnation upon" Walker's manifesto and its (according to Lundy) vile tone.

Such things can have no other earthly effect than to injure our cause. The writer indulges himself in the wildest strain of reckless fanaticism . . . It is a labored attempt to rouse the worst passions of human nature, and inflame the minds of those to whom it is addressed.[14]

Lundy goes on to warn all abolitionists against stooping to the arousal of what he labels "malignant passions," then warns antislavery proponents, particularly blacks, against speaking or writing with a lack of decorum.

There can be no impropriety in an expression of sentiment, on the part of the colored people, relative to their wrongs . . . acrimonious language should not be indulged, and even revengeful feeling should be repressed, as much as possible. A disposition to promote turbulent and violent commotion, will only tend to procrastinate the march of justice.[15] (Ibid.)

Although Lundy was a "sincere" abolitionist, he was also a contradictory one. In reading his comments above it's difficult not to spot the archetype of the White Master transformed into the archetype of the White Liberator instructing blacks about how to speak and write correctly. It's an interesting thought: a white member of the language police deciding what defiant slaves and freedman were and weren't permitted to say as they strove to topple slavery.

Walker refused to bow down to such paternalism. Quite to the contrary, he realized the challenge he faced in authoring the Appeal was to name and explicate the reasons behind the black right to revolt against and abolish the slave system, and in doing so to create a language of black insurrection more comprehensive than any so far heard.

To say the least, this was a daring endeavor in 1829 in a country built on racial bigotry where any effort to discuss black rights was experienced by whites (as it often is today) as insulting and belligerent. —in Lundy's term, an "impropriety." Hence, Walker's condemnation by even many antislavers. In the always ongoing language disputes which throughout history inevitably insinuate themselves into politics, to tell the truth about slavery during Walker's time, and well beyond, was, to again quote Lundy, for Walker allegedly to indulge "himself in the wildest strain of reckless fanaticism."

But Walker's real "crime" is that he did his job so well, by writing the most thorough and inspiring antislavery manifesto up until that time. One example of this was the way he anchored his statements about the need for black resistance to slavery with an often folksy simplicity which nonetheless didn't prevent his words from possessing a hard-hitting truthfulness —

it is no more harm for you to kill a man, who is trying to kill you, than it is for you to take a drink of water when thirsty.[16]

The simplicity of these words is incontestable. Also incontestable is how brazen they are. They announce, in a society in which whites are in all matters privileged over blacks, the slave's right to kill whites, since whites possess the right to kill blacks on a whim or to kill them slowly by starving them of all the nourishments that only equality can provide. This power of the individual of European stock over anyone of African heritage means that a white person is always potentially only one step away from becoming a black's executioner. Knowing this, Walker views a black's murder of a white supremacist as simultaneously a simple act of self-defense and a freedom proclamation.

To understand how explosive Walker's "to kill a man" statement was, we must recognize that it was an announcement of the black freedom struggle's presence in the midst of an array of forces, each of which wanted to crush it. Consequently, it was a announcement of its own survivor status, of its refusal to play dead and pray that one day whites would gift slaves freedom because slaves and free blacks had chosen to abide by Lundy's directive to be polite and therefore should be rewarded. But instead of passivity, what Walker gives his readers in the above statement are thirty words organized into a blunt and simple foundational thought which speaks to the principle of self-determination in a self-determined way.

The black body, Thomas Jefferson, white Christianity

As previously mentioned, Walker referenced the Declaration of Independence in his Appeal on a number of occasions. He did so sometimes in order to make points about the righteousness of slaves' struggle for freedom and at other times as an example of the degree to which most U.S. whites were either too hypocritical or disinterested to acknowledge the contradiction in lauding the Declaration as the nation's founding document while simultaneously denying that slavery revealed a gaping hole in the country's notion of freedom.

Realizing this state of affairs demanded demythization, Walker chose to expose how behind America's swagger and braggadocio, and undergirding its supposed high ideals, was hidden the nation's true source of strength, the foundation upon which it was built: not the Declaration's soaring language, but the black body, available for anything whites demanded of it.

This, Walker understood, was what the American Dream was built on. Following from this, he believed, was that continued subjugation of the black body was whites' raison d'être, which was why they persisted—through either active support (political formations, lynch mobs, etc) or simple indifference to blacks' plight—in conceptualizing freedom as by definition pertaining only to themselves and therefore not relevant to slaves, Native Americans and others of non-European background.

Regarding this situation, Walker's writing bellowed off the page with sarcasm and exasperation in the Appeal when he castigated whites for their self-serving ignorance—

See your declaration, Americans!! Do you understand your own language?[17] (David Walker 1965)

Even here, though, with his tone so caustic, Walker didn't surrender to blind emotion but methodically constructed a well-planned critique, not merely of U.S. racial hypocrisy in general, but against the Declaration of Independence's primary author himself, Thomas Jefferson, the third U.S. president and a man renowned for supposedly being more sensitive than many whites to slaves' plight. 

Saying about Jefferson that he "was one of as great characters as ever lived among the whites," Walker proceeds to eviscerate him for his shallow racial views.

In analyzing Jefferson's racial stereotyping, Walker quotes part of a passage from Jefferson's book, Notes on the State of Virginia, in which the Declaration's author stresses that whites haven't yet found a good reason to consider "the races of black and of red men" worthy "subjects of natural history"[18] (Avalon Project, Notes on . . . Virginia, 2020). To further elaborate this point, the third president admits to having a suspicion

that the blacks, whether originally a distinct race, or made distinct by time and circumstances, are inferior to the whites in the endowments both of body and mind. It is not against experience to suppose, that different species of the same genus, or varieties of the same species, may possess different qualifications.[19] (David Walker 1965)

‌In another area of Notes which Walker also quotes, Jefferson adds to this argument by insisting that when considered historically, the idea of black backwardness wasn't the product of systemic racism but of blacks' biological predisposition—i.e., blacks' "nature." To buttress this perspective, Jefferson compares Africans enslaved in the US (who weren't allowed to read and write) with Rome's' slaves (who were allowed to read and write), proclaiming that Roman slaves were often that nation's

rarest artists. They excelled too in science, insomuch as to be usually employed as tutors to their master's children; Epictetus, Terence and Phadrus, were slaves,--but they were of the race of whites. It is not their condition then, but nature, which has produced the distinction."[20] (Walker, Appeal, 15)

Walker lambasts this analysis by identifying the structural weakness at its core: the inherent imbalance of equating educated white slaves with uneducated black slaves. How, he contends, can you compare people living under incommensurate conditions as if their situations were the same and therefore their responses to particular stimuli equivalent?

Mr. Jefferson declared to the world, that we are inferior to the whites . . . It is indeed surprising, that a man of such great learning . . . should speak so of a set of men in chains. I do not know what to compare it to, unless, like putting one wild deer in an iron cage, where it will be secured, and hold another by the side of the same, then let it go, and expect the one in the cage to run as fast as the one at liberty.[21] (Walker, Appeal, 10)

Clearly, Walker had no tolerance for white supremacist thinking's convoluted nature, no matter how allegedly important the spouter.

But as deeply incensed as he was about this aspect of the race issue, he also was filled with disdain for the young country's sense of white entitlement and what it fed: the nation's duplicity in refusing to apply the Declaration's egalitarian philosophy to blacks. He considered it abhorrent that whites (and too many slaves) didn't comprehend how relevant the Declaration's section on a government's "ends" (i.e., the freedoms and rights it supplies to its population) was to blacks, with its guarantee that

whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government.

Although Walker understood that the vast majority of whites would never agree this statement applied to US blacks, he was defiant in his persistence in trying to make the case. He knew, and refused to let go of this knowledge, that if this statement was philosophically sound enough to justify the colonists' war against Britain, it also was sound enough to justify a black war of freedom against the current (white) government and economic system. Walker not only understood this, but launching such a war is precisely what he proposed in the Appeal that blacks do. He also argued it was the only Christian route to follow, since from his revolutionary perspective the majority of those whom he labeled "American Christians" risked their souls by living lives which were the antithesis of Christianity because of how they sowed antiblack loathing everywhere while refusing to listen to blacks' outcries, including his own—

It is a notorious fact that the major part of the white Americans have, ever since we have been among them, tried to keep us ignorant and make us believe that God made us and our children to be slaves to them and theirs. Oh! my God, have mercy on Christian Americans!!. . . .[22]

O ye christians!!! who hold us and our children, in the most abject ignorance and degradation, that ever a people were afflicted with since the world began-- I say, if God gives you peace and tranquility, and suffers you thus to go on afflicting us and our children, who have never given you the least provocation,--Would he be to us a God of justice?[23]

With white Christianity long ago having spiritually disfigured itself, turning itself into a continent-conquering mass of bible-quoting marauders who viewed blacks and the indigenous as fair game for every kind of white supremacist lunacy, Walker relished the Declaration's insistence on people's right, if a government oppresses them, to rise up and "alter or . . . abolish it."

In only a few words, penned in a moment of historical irony by a slave-owner, the Declaration's announcement that people possessed the right to abolish a government which didn't adequately represent them, Walker discovered a rationale for black upheaval against slavery. Yet finding this rationale was no easy matter, he had to first   do what whites had failed to do: think more deeply about the Declaration's words. After all, what was inferred by terms like "people" and "mankind" in the document was people=white people and mankind=white humans. In such instances Walker replaced such connotations by employing each word's universalist definition—i.e., human beings—and thereby removing reference to skin color. Doing so not only enabled him to use the Declaration's phraseology to include blacks, but also to remind white supremacist Christians of how, once blacks felt sufficiently empowered by this new inclusion, they

will retaliate, and woe will be to them.[24] 

The alternative to such conflict, Walker insisted, was for white Christianity's adherents to reinvent their dead spirituality by turning it into something resembling what it was supposed to resemble: an aspiration toward brotherhood, toward a willingness to accept human beings other than themselves as their equals.

But since no evidence existed that whites in general would make this effort on their own, Walker saw blacks as ironically positioned to potentially be whites' saviors by launching an insurrection that would destroy white supremacy's institutional structures and, in the process, cleanse white Christianity's hatred-fueled underpinnings while simultaneously transforming the Declaration and other national founding documents into something substantively different than what they currently were — i.e., white-settler power treatises.

This vision, coupled with the vividness, cutting eloquence and range of topics that fueled Walker's totalistic critique, makes Walker a ground-breaker in the black liberation struggle's history. As Herbert Aptheker wrote in "One Continual Cry," his introduction to one of the Appeal's editions, Walker's book is

the first sustained written assault upon slavery and racism to come from a black man in the United States. This was the main source of its overwhelming power in its own time; this is the source of the great relevance and enormous impact that remain in it . . . Never before or since was there a more uncompromising and devastating attack upon the hypocrisy of a jim-crow Christianity . . . Never before or since was there  a more passionate denunciation of the hypocrisy of the nation as a whole—democratic and fraternal and equalitarian and all the other words.[25]

Walker clearly wasn't a cavalier writer, no dilettante with only a casual relationship to the ideas his Appeal expressed. Deadly earnest and devoted to the goal of transforming the U.S. from a nation racialized by white bigotry into one with a political culture that better incarnated the Declaration's ideas about equality than the existing one, he was an activist whose words were intended as a prompt for a specific action — i.e., a revolution against slavery and for equality. That this war was inevitable was a fact of which he was certain.

Although correct in his certainty this war would happen, he didn't know it would take thirty years to arrive, nor did he realize that after the civil war which resulted in the freeing of slaves was over, the battle against racism would still be far from concluded. Instead, the struggle would be transformed. First, it transitioned into a failed resistance to the massive dismantling of black freedoms following Reconstruction, then it evolved into a battle against de facto bigotry in the north and Jim Crow racism in the south. And now today, in the midst of the nation's "post-racist" racism, our streets are teeming with Black Lives Matter demonstrators demanding an end to continued attacks on black bodies.

It is true, of course, that in terms of racism things are better than during slavery. But they're also not. White America's failure to grasp this paradox is the failure that will destroy the nation if it isn't remedied.

We live with, and inside of, paradox.

Epilogue: Consciousness & revolution

David Walker never flinched from the fight against racism nor from the challenge of connecting issues in ways which shed light on problems other than racism—for instance, how an economy and value system that privileged profits above everything else fueled a white racism that transformed black humans into commodities for the purpose of enriching those in power. Walker identified avarice as such a system's primary motivator, writing that because of avarice and the self-importance which accompanies it, such profiteers "murder all before them, in order to subject men to wretchedness and degradation under them."[26]

This was Walker's take on an emerging free market system.

Walker also grasped how a belief system like Christianity, considered sacred by Europeans and their descendents, could be deployed against blacks by those very caucasians as a method of psychological disempowerment. This disempowerment took the form of a generation-to-generation miseducation which bombarded slaves with the "knowledge" that according to God's plan their conquerors were superior, they themselves were less than human, and obedience to their masters was the sole course of action available to them.  According to Walker, this constant white nullification of the value of black life left slaves mired in "abject ignorance," convinced by their masters and overseers "that Heaven has designed us and our children to be slaves and beasts of burden to them and their children."[27]

Walker's insights into the commodification of the African body and the use of Christianity as a psychology-based mind-control tool showed how diverse forces interacted within the institution of slavery to keep blacks oppressed.

The difficulty of penetrating the slave fatalism perpetuated by these realities was Walker's greatest frustration. Making the situation even worse was that no matter where one turned at the time, other forces made the project of turning slave despair into slave rebelliousness even more difficult.

Take popular culture as an example. During Walker's adulthood, one aspect of popular culture was the same as it is today, taking bits and pieces of daily life and turning them into easily graspable entertainments.

One of this process's subgenres during the period 1800-1830 was the production of amusing (to whites) black characters who wore the signs of their alleged inferiority (a "childish" pidgin English, cartoonishly "thick" lips, etc.) as badges of honor. In this regard, one famous image of blacks at the time was a character created by Thomas D. Rice, a white actor who kicked off the minstrelsy trend in 1828.[28] (“Thomas Dartmouth Rice | American Entertainer | Britannica” 2020)The character Rice originated was a would-be black dandy named Jim Crow,[29] whom Rice played in blackface while garbed in raggedy clothes worn in such a way as to give the impression that Crow was less of a dandy than an inept black whose unfounded airs made him, not  a hip fashion devotee, but a farcical illustration of what it meant to be black and out of your league. As Rice acted his heart out on stage night after night, Jim Crow evolved into a living stereotype — a goofy-thinking, lazy, fawning, unintentionally hilarious buffoon.

All this for the pleasure of white audiences, exactly as the doctor ordered! Not only had patrons been entertained, now they "knew" exactly what blacks were supposedly like!

Culturally defined by such stereotypes as well as by intersecting rationalizations (e.g., theological, scientific, cultural) for black enslavement, the challenge of developing a black revolutionary consciousness among slaves undoubtedly seemed impossible at times to Walker and other antislavery activists. Still, in spite of such realities Walker accepted the challenge of breaking through the wall of racist mythology in order to define more clearly how slaves were held back by a worldview designed to guarantee their continued physical as well as mental subjugation.

In one of the book's examples of this problem—i.e., the issue of black identity in a whites-defined society—Walker retells a newspaper story concerning sixty newly purchased slaves who were being transported in a wagon to Kentucky by two guards and a driver. Of the slaves, the males were shackled with iron fetters, whereas women and children remained unbound. During the journey, however, the men secretly loosened their restraints with a chisel, then, when they thought the time right, attacked those in charge, killing, they believed, all three of them. Nevertheless, after the slaves escaped into the woods, it turned out the wagon driver whom they thought they believed dead wasn't dead and regained consciousness. Seeing this, one of the female slaves who had stayed behind revived him either out of pity or from a sense of duty, then helped him escape.

Walker criticizes this slave's behavior, accusing her of accepting her oppressors' view of what was expected of her as a slave—i.e., to protect white power and its needs, regardless of the costs. From Walker's perspective, these costs included not only the endless drudgery of slave life, but also the cost of the slave's acceptance of white supremacy's view of reality as your own. Therefore, the author concludes that the woman's apparently charitable act of nursing the white man back to health is, in fact, a type of self-mutilation. Disregarding her own needs as an enslaved black, she instead clings to her mandated role as a white enabler. In doing this, she fails to see, from Walker's perspective, the moment when the other slaves escape as a moment of potential free action for herself also, a chance to reclaim her identity as a free human being by joining the other slaves' rebellion. Instead, she digs down as deeply, as securely as possible, into the imagined safety of her enslavedness.

By offering this analysis, Walker proves himself to be not merely a promoter of black insurrection, but also a psychologist of such insurrection, of how the "outer" antislavery battle is also an inner psychological one that entails the slave's struggles with the values instilled in her/him by white society. In taking this approach, he foreshadowed W.E.B. Du Boise's work decades later (1877) in developing the concept of black double consciousness. Walker also was the forerunner of another thinker, Franz Fanon, whose book Black Skin, White Masks, pursued similar concerns, particularly with regard to the impact of white colonial ideology and culture on the colonized's consciousness. 

Although Walker understood black liberation would entail in significant part a casting-off of the negative impact of white supremacist values on black consciousness, he also grasped, and in the Appeal expressed his frustrations about, the enormous difficulty of doing so, a difficulty which began with the slave's "animal existence,"[30] a life of unceasing labor and exhaustion, along with the perpetual threat of the whipping post or a beating at the least sign of fatigue or a failure to do what was ordered.  

Although Walker believed that, if his words could only penetrate the slave's propagandized consciousness, he would be able to communicate with a purer, less subjugated place within them, an area of "unconquerable disposition"[31] and stoke revolt, he found his attempts to do this often frustrating and elusive.

This is why the slave who helped the wagon driver escape was a enigma to him. From the author's perspective, the slave's assistance saved

the life of a desperate man, whose avaricious and cruel object was to drive her and her companions in miseries, through the country like cattle, to make his fortune on their carcasses.[32]

Why would she do that? the author wondered.

For Walker, this was the problem in a nutshell. Providing people with information about their selfhood, about their right not to be driven "like cattle" here and there by a white man only so he can "make his fortune on their carcasses"—this information alone, this revelation of their selfhood as free human beings, didn't seem sufficient to arouse significant numbers of slaves to open acts of individual rebellion or to join a group insurrection. This both stumped him and complicated his efforts to communicate his message. Something blocked many blacks, prevented them from internalizing, then acting upon, their right to revolt. Consequently, he writes—  

Oh! coloured people of these United States, I ask you, in the name of that God who made us, have we, in consequence of oppression, nearly lost the spirit of man, and, in no very trifling degree, adopted that of brutes?[33]

Although Walker understood that the very fact of enslavement entails not only the surrender of one's body to someone else's control (as well as to the slave system's control), but also the usurpation of that which makes a human being human (e.g., critical thought, freedom of ideas, etc.), he nonetheless was exasperated by it, which is evidenced in the Appeal's many expressions of aggravation with how difficult it was for slaves to extricate themselves from the "wretchedness and miseries"[34] imposed on them by the totality of society — religion, government, the economy, white supremacy's ownership of the word freedom.

Clearly, it wasn't merely forced labor and forced ignorance that comprised the tribulation facing slaves and other blacks. It was also the fact that slavery didn't merely consist of the ownership of black bodies and the extraction from those bodies of wealth-producing labor. It also consisted in the constant reproduction of the very conditions which guaranteed that white supremacy/black subjugation would continue generation after generation via a white power structure and culture, and a slave class shaped by the black codes which spelled out what slaves were and weren't allowed to do.

For Walker, these codes structured black consciousness, providing the slave with a framework for how to view her or himself, since what the slave was allowed to do in many ways constituted who he or she was. According to the codes, slaves were denied, among other rights, the following ones: to testify against whites in court, read and write, marry, gather in a group unless supervised by whites, own firearms, read or distribute antislavery literature, retaliate against white physical abuse, leave a plantation without written permission.

By definition, then, the black self was rooted in the principle of not: not intellectually able, not allowed to (do anything autonomous), not white, not . . . of value, other than as a product owned by a white. The slave's conception, therefore, of right and wrong and, indeed, of who exactly he or she was, was modulated by a whites-imposed system of principles and behavioral restrictions based on the premise that a slave was a nothing, a brute good for only one thing, forced labor.

The way white consciousness is implicated in black consciousness, imbuing it with a self-awareness rooted in a caucasian vision of blacks' essence, convinced Walker that the young country's whites, including the founders, possessed no inclination to extend to people of color the Declaration of Independence's "unalienable rights" principle or the document's proclamation that the oppressed were allowed "to alter or to abolish" tyrannical governments. What whites wanted, he believed, was simple: to keep blacks enslaved, permanently. "The natural love in them to be called masters,"[35] Walker wrote in the Appeal, guaranteed that whites "will keep us in ignorance and wretchedness, as long as they possibly can."[36] (Walker, Appeal, 62)

Given these thoughts, it's not surprising that although Walker believed cultivating a black liberationist consciousness was achievable, he also periodically succumbed to the fear that freeing black consciousness from its colonization by the dominant race's thinking was nearly impossible.

Walker's wrestling with the question of what was necessary to ignite a black uprising in multiple states led to his book's many expressions of despair, as when he noted that too many blacks "yield in a moment to the whites" and this is "the reason the whites are able to keep their feet on our throats."[37] Consequently, he cries out in frustration, "Oh! my coloured brethren . . . when shall we arise from this death-like apathy?--And be men!!"[38] (Ibid.) Another time he writes, "Many of us know no better than to fight against ourselves."[39] He didn't mean here only that blacks sometimes sided with their masters against other slaves, but also that blacks, by internalizing the white power system's worldview, developed a whites-based self-image rooted in the idea that if they questioned white rule, they themselves became the enemy which they had to fight.

It is here, in Walker's exasperation with and fear of what white supremacist thought had done to black consciousness, that Walker made one of his most creative contributions to the philosophy of black liberation. This contribution, unlike his use of the Declaration of Independence to justify black revolution, isn't as concrete, although it is as door-opening. With the Declaration, he recontextualized the original meaning of "all men are created equal" in which by the word man the reader was to understand white man, so that now the word man was redesignated to mean human being. In this other contribution, Walker opened up the door to studying the psychology of racial oppression in ways which hadn't been employed before.

In other words, he paved the way for a revolutionary enquiry that hadn't yet been defined, but was necessary for strategizing black liberation. This is called leaving a legacy.

For Walker, one crucial part of remedying the problem of the debilitating effects of enslavement on black consciousness entails developing a new black self by reincluding in it what's been exiled from it by white supremacy: its own history seen through its own eyes and undistorted by racist assumptions.

In large part, this is precisely what the Appeal is, an anti-story—i.e., a narrative which, once inserted into, or set side by side with, the dominant white story of white superiority, would destroy the notion of that superiority by showing what it did in order to sanctify the myth of its greatness—e.g., the mass murders and use of terrorism to enslave and demonize the innocent for the sole purpose of allowing "those who are actuated by sordid avarice"[40] to rule over the so-called inferior in order to accumulate greater wealth as the result of how "the labor of slaves comes so cheap"[41] to them.

This unearthing of such a buried history is a form of the return of the repressed. As detailed by Herbert Marcuse in Eros and Civilization, this is a process during which a "tabooed and subterranean history" disruptively resurfaces after a long absence in order to provide us with a fuller history which reveals "not only the secret of the individual" within society during the relevant period "but also that of civilization at the time."[42]

Walker's analysis is connected to this approach in that he views all forms of black anger and frustration at, and resistance to, white domination as signaling the homecoming or return of blacks to themselves from their whites-imposed anonymity within a denied history created by white supremacy's powers that be—pastors, government officials, educators, etc.—as well as by all those who either happily or out of convenience participate in this denial by accepting its righteousness without question.

That this hidden history's return from death by exclusion is an explosive moment for a white supremacist society should be no surprise, since it disrupts the dominant racial narrative and thereby unsettles the status quo's smugness, replacing it with white dread of what comes next. Hence, the hysteria triggered by Walker's Appeal, which was, up until that time, the most comprehensive summation/analysis of the nation's untold racist history, a history which, when made visible, possessed the power to rewrite the traditional fairytale account of American grandeur.

This is what white supremacy fears, the unearthing of the nation's racial anti-story, a reformulation of the nation's history.

Consequently, this is why even today the killing of unarmed blacks isn't confined to a two or three month hunting season, but is instead allowed every month of the year. For white supremacists, this hunt isn't for food, but part of a collective attempt to eliminate as many blacks as possible.

As David Walker understood, a battle against this level of racism can't be won by endlessly waiting for the system to self-correct. Rather, he tells his readers, it rather requires insurrectionists to appear on the scene like "a gang of lions and tigers" whose threatening energy forces the dominant society to realize this is a challenge it can't afford not "to deal with."[43]

Notes

[1] "David Walker, 1785-1830.” 2020. Univ. North Carolina - Education. 2020. https://docsouth.unc.edu/nc/walker/bio.html.

[2] David Walker, (Full title) Appeal to the COLOURERED CITIZENS OF THE WORLD, but in particular, and very expressly, to those of THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. (New York: Hill and Wang, 1965).

[3] Walker, Appeal, 75.

[4] "David Walker." Pbs.Org. 2020. https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part4/4p2930.html.

[5] Walker, Appeal, x.

[6] Herbert Aptheker, ed. One Continual Cry: David Walker's Appeal to the Colored Citizens of the World. (New York: Humanities Press, 1965), p.34.

[7] "James Hamilton, 1786-1857. Negro Plot. An Account of the Late Intended Insurrection." (Boston: Joseph W. Ingraham, 1822). 2020. https://docsouth.unc.edu/church/hamilton/hamilton.html.

[8] Ibid.

[9] James Hamilton, Negro Plot, 2020.

[10] James Spady, "Power and Confession: On the Credibility of the Earliest Reports of the Denmark Vesey Slave Conspiracy." (Virginia: The William and Mary Quarterly Vol. 68, April 2011), p. 287.

[11] Ibid.

[12] William Lloyd Garrison. Editorial regarding Walker's pamphlet. The Liberator. Jan. 8, 1831

[13] Walker, Appeal, 26.

[14] “Full Text of ‘Genius of Universal Emancipation.’” 2015. Archive.Org. 2015. https://archive.org/stream/geniusuniversal01garrgoog/geniusuniversal01garrgoog_djvu.txt.

[15] Ibid.

[16] Walker, Appeal, 26.

[17] Walker, Appeal, 75.

[18] “Avalon Project - Notes on the State of Virginia.” 2020. Yale.Edu. 2020. https://avalon.law.yale.edu/18th_century/jeffvir.asp.

[19] Walker, Appeal, 26.

[20] Walker, Appeal, 15

[21] Walker, Appeal, 10.

[22] Walker, Appeal, 35.

[23] Walker, Appeal, 5.

[24] Walker, Appeal, 61.

[25] Herbert Aptheker, One Continual Cry, 54.

[26] Walker, Appeal, 24

[27] Walker, Appeal, 2.

[28] "Thomas Dartmouth Rice | American Entertainer | Britannica." 2020. In Encyclopædia Britannica. https://www.britannica.com/biography/Thomas-Dartmouth-Rice.

[29] Rice's Jim Crow character is the source of the name later adopted to describe the violently racist post-Reconstruction south.

[30] Walker, Appeal, 25.

[31] Walker, Appeal, 25.

[32] Walker, Appeal, 26.

[33] Ibid.

[34] Walker, Appeal, 1.

[35] Walker, Appeal, 61.

[36] Walker, Appeal, 62.

[37] Ibid.

[38] Ibid.

[39] Walker, Appeal, 60.

[40] Walker, Appeal, 3.

[41] Ibid.

[42] Herbert Marcuse, Eros and Civilization. (New York: Vintage Books, February 1962), p. 15.

[43] Walker, Appeal, 25.