Soldier4Christ
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« Reply #1 on: March 30, 2007, 11:08:51 PM » |
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While SDSers are extraordinarily skillful at dissecting race, gender, class and sexuality in their personal lives, they show less aptitude, as yet, for economic research and political analysis. Most SDSers would have an easier time defining "heteronormativity" than corporate liberalism. Their knowledge of the labor movement all too often begins and ends with the Industrial Workers of the World. However, the new SDS's sensitivity to group dynamics is light-years--or several decades--ahead of its '60s predecessor. Women compose 40 percent or more of the membership and often exert chapter leadership. Sarah McGarity, 20, a political science and women's studies major, helped create the Ohio University chapter and believes women are for the most part equals within SDS. "Women definitely have the opportunities that weren't necessarily given to them in the '60s," she says.
Race today is not quite the study in black and white that it was in the '60s. Now as then, there are few African-Americans in SDS, but proportions vary. Of the five who started Wayne State's chapter in Detroit, two were African-American, one Asian and one Latina, says Carmen Mendoza-King, 21. If SDS is not as heavily white as it was in the '60s, this is mostly a result of subsequent waves of Asian and Latin American immigration. Hunter College senior Daniel Tasripin, 24, whose father was Indonesian and mother Polish-Jewish and French, argues that SDS should recognize affirmative action, the curriculum and the "basic justice of the university in relation to the surrounding community" as issues not specific to people of color but reflective of "the universal need for a university that represents all the people."
SDS is loose, more movement than organization. Anyone can sign up online. The group now claims more than 2,000 members, but it is hard to tell what that means. There are no dues, and therefore no funds, no staff, no office and no national publication apart from the website. The group has no elected national leaders and no basis for national decision-making. Paradoxically, these weaknesses provide some strength. The very élan of SDS is anti-bureaucratic. SDS enables regional and national linkages while preserving local control. Its appeal is that it is self-creating, do-it-yourself, free from centralized discipline or external control.
This explains why SDS displays such variety and vitality at the chapter level. At Brown University, where meetings regularly attract twenty-five people, SDS distributed a "Disorientation Guide" to 1,600 new students this fall. At Olympia last May and in Tacoma this March, Washington state SDSers were arrested for blocking Army Stryker vehicles from being loaded onto ships bound for Iraq. At Pace University in Manhattan, five SDSers were arrested in November simply for stepping onto campus to exercise free speech in protest against their administration.
From the outset, the new SDS sought interaction with older radicals, in particular veterans of the first SDS. This, however, has proved more vexing than anyone anticipated. The new SDS's adult counterpart, Movement for a Democratic Society (MDS), has been riven by divisions rooted deep in SDS history. Power has resided largely with three figures: historian Paul Buhle, once editor of the original SDS journal Radical America; Thomas Good, a 48-year-old Communist-turned-anarchist who created the new SDS website; and Bruce Rubenstein, a Connecticut personal-injury attorney. Left on the outs have been Haber, a kindly bearded sage, and a small "democracy" caucus whose best-known member is historian Jesse Lemisch.
The MDS tensions trace in part to distinct pasts. Both Haber and Lemisch were present at SDS's founding convention in 1960; Rubenstein was part of Weatherman, a faction that scuttled SDS in 1969, and its successor, the Weather Underground, which bombed corporate and government targets. Bitter sniping on group listservs has been a more recent source of estrangement. Substantively, the dividing lines surfaced in an early discussion about whether to bring young and old together in one big-tent SDS. That proposal proved a dead letter when the students stated their desire for autonomy. A more gnawing issue is whether processes in MDS have been transparent, legitimate or democratic. A final matter is the residual influence of Weatherman.
The Weather controversy erupted when Bernardine Dohrn, a Weather leader who now teaches law at Northwestern University, was invited to speak at the first new SDS conference, held in Providence, Rhode Island, in April 2006. Dohrn received a rousing welcome, but when Bob Ross, an early SDSer, used his talk to lament that "the largest legal and unarmed movement in the history of the West" turned "ineffectually violent and useless," he was received coolly. At the first new SDS national convention in Chicago, in August, Good opened the proceedings by reading greetings from Dohrn. Moreover, Rubenstein, MDS's treasurer, is unapologetic about his Weather history and says that if it were 1969 he would "do it all over again," but that he does "not endorse those tactics" for SDS today.
Many in MDS consider Weatherman ancient history. "Heck, they're all 65 already," says Penelope Rosemont, another graying MDS officer. "How violent can you get at 65?" Lemisch, however, is concerned that a rehabilitated Weather may corrupt the revived SDS. A critic of a recent spate of films and books that sanitize and romanticize the Weather past, he has interpreted some direct actions of the new SDS as reminiscent of Weatherman's "Fight the People" slogan. The students, for their part, find Lemisch's criticism lacking in proportionality. Although intrigued by Weather's notoriety and susceptible to being impressed by Dohrn's celebrity, they regard Weather as a negative political example. "They espoused a sort of white-guilt and white-privileged politics that is, in my estimation, wrongheaded," says Tasripin. Co-founder Korte, now a 19-year-old student at the New School, objects to "people trying to conjure or dress us in Weather's clothes." An actual inspiration for the new SDS, says Senia Barrigan, 20, a Brown University student and daughter of immigrants from Colombia and Ecuador, was last year's strike by 70,000 teachers in Oaxaca, Mexico, which sparked a militant but peaceful popular insurgency against a corrupt, autocratic government.
MDS secretary Good, however, has referred to "my Weather comrades" and called himself "an unrepentant Weather supporter." He donned a "gotcha1 Jesse Lemisch" T-shirt at the national convention and issued a facetious "fatwa" calling for a pie to be thrown in Lemisch's face. Some in MDS and SDS find these puerilities obnoxious or embarrassing, but that hasn't translated into support for the "democracy" caucus, widely regarded as a nuisance for sending frequent, adversarial complaints over the group's listservs. (The dissidents, for their part, object that they have been removed or excluded from many listservs.)
In February MDS held a daylong public meeting to announce a nonprofit corporation, MDS, Inc., that will raise funds for SDS. One of the selected speakers, former Weather leader Mark Rudd, delivered a piercingly honest self-criticism, stating that Weather "did the work" of the FBI by "killing off" the original SDS. Rudd urged the new SDS to recognize violence and property destruction as politically self-defeating in the United States. A panel of students, in turn, asked MDS to assist SDS by sharing wisdom and skills rather than bickering. However, Haber's desire for extended participatory conversation among the gathered MDS members was not fulfilled, and the dissidents felt railroaded. "It was not democracy's finest hour," allows Rudd. "I felt they should have been given ten minutes to present their case."
cont'd
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