Socialism: “Lefty” Hooligan, “What’s Left?”, May 2023

I traveled to see friends in Bristol, England, in 1974. Harold Wilson’s Labor Party had been elected as a minority government for a second round of Keynesian social democracy intended to put the finishing touches on the British welfare state built from 1945 to 1951. Swaths of industry remained under state regulation and ownership. Social insurance, public housing, education, and unemployment relief had been established and expanded. An Equal Pay Act was passed in 1970. And Wilson’s government abolished the death penalty, decriminalized homosexuality, and outlawed racial discrimination. But it was no longer the “swinging sixties.” The Beatles had disbanded and the countercultural tribes were getting a dose of hard reality. The Angry Brigade’s bombing campaign in 1970-71 brought a crackdown on youth, which proved nothing compared to the society-wide clampdown instigated by the spillover of The Troubles from Northern Island to England with the IRA’s London bombing campaign. Even my liberal Bristol friends were anti-Irish. I stepped a couple of feet away from my backpack in the London Underground to examine the subway wall map, only to have my hippie ass immediately surrounded by suspicious Bobbies and plain-clothed officers.

I visited my relatives the same year in Poland deep in the Soviet Bloc; my grandmother in Gdynia with its massive Paris Commune Shipyards and my cousins in Warsaw with its famous Zeran car factory and working-class suburb Ursus. These locations were recurring flash-points in the off-again-on-again Polish rebellion against Soviet occupation.[1] The economy was state-owned and run, the society dreary. Polish Peoples’ Army and Soviet Red Army soldiers were everywhere, along with the police. In Warsaw, an additional reminder of the Soviet presence was the massive Palace of Culture and Science done up in Stalinist wedding cake style. Gomulka’s gray years as First Secretary of the Polish United Workers’ Party had given way to a more optimistic time under Edward Gierek who tried to boost economic development and average income through foreign loans, which meant that instead of bread lines people queued up for a few basic consumer goods. All my relatives told Russian jokes. On Sundays they took me to church where, beneath cover of the Catholic mass, an overflowing crowd whispered, argued and organized against the Soviets.

I also hitchhiked through Josip Tito’s Yugoslavia and enjoyed the novelty of staying at hotels, going to restaurants and buying supplies from enterprises that were worker-owned councils operating in a market economy. The newsstands carried uncensored every Western newspaper and magazine and the country was prospering. But there was little doubt that I was in a one-party Marxist-Leninist country. When I failed to convince several Yugoslav Peoples’ Army soldiers to give me the striking red star pins on their hats I tried to take their picture. They warned me off with threatening gestures.

My most inspiring and troubling experience of socialism was Israel when I lived on a kibbutz for six months in 1974. A kibbutz is a rural commune with a mixed agricultural/industrial economy where people own all private property in common, raise their children socially and work cooperatively “from each according to ability, to each according to need.” Kibbutzim were but one of many forms of cooperative agriculture within the Histadrut, a centralized syndicalist trade union which was at the same time the owner of numerous businesses and factories. The Histadrut ran about 65% of the Jewish economy and 75% of the Jewish workforce in Palestine by 1948. Its state-building function, alongside the Hagana, spearheaded the Labor Zionist national liberation struggle that declared independence for the State of Israel in 1948. The parliamentary, multi-party Jewish state nationalized half of the Histadrut’s economy almost immediately. Israel’s Jewish socialism was one of the more self-organized, communitarian, liberatory forms of socialism I’ve known. But it was Jewish socialism nonetheless, an exclusionary “socialism for one people” that placed ethnic identity over class identity, resulting in Israel devolving into a settler-colonial apartheid state.

Now it’s a bad time for socialism.

During the 1980s, socialism advanced by one-party Marxist-Leninist regimes was based on centrally planned command economies, collectivized agriculture and industry, and nationalized property. “Real existing socialism” encompassed one-third of the world’s population (over a billion people) and close to a fourth of world’s land surface. After the collapse of the Communist bloc (1989-1991)—instigated by Reagan and the US striving to bankrupt the Soviet Union and its allied nations—there are now only five explicitly Marxist-Leninist countries remaining in the world—China, Laos, Vietnam, Cuba, and North Korea. North Korea further refined its state ideology into Kimilsungism–Kimjongilism which is also defined as the Juche Principle. This supposedly is a revolutionary socialism of material necessity grounded in concrete, immutable realities where “the people” have all the basic means of life. Yet in reality it is a socialism of chronic scarcity where people often don’t have even the basics to survive, where workers’ power is substituted for the power of the vanguard party and frequently the power of a dictatorial cult leader.

From 1945 until 2015, social democracy was seen as a viable socialist alternative in Western Europe and other parts of the Western world. Epitomized by the Nordic Model—Iceland, Denmark, Norway, Sweden and Finland—it involved market-based mixed economies, private property, a strong labor movement, multi-level collective bargaining and a comprehensive welfare state administered by multi-party parliamentary democracies that mediate between capital and labor. Norway extended this with extensive state-owned enterprises and natural resources as well as state share ownership in publicly listed enterprises. This democratic socialism sometimes considers itself a moral crusade against capitalism and the profit motive and for workers’ rights and freedoms. Democracy, egalitarianism and social justice are emphasized over a specific form of socialist economy. Social democratic parties have peacefully traded governance with more conservative political parties even in the Nordic countries. Issues of national sovereignty and immigration after 2015 have caused a marked decline in their popularity.

The “hard” socialism of Marxist-Leninists regimes is attributed to their Third World context, to the oppressed and exploited peoples of color and proletarian-peasant nations of the Global South. The “soft” socialism of social democracies is not really considered socialist by “hard” socialists, but rather is of a piece of the Global North, of the First World whose nations are capitalist, imperialist and mostly white. I don’t regard either Marxist-Leninist regimes or social democracies as truly socialist, even though I’d much rather live in the latter than in the former.

I reserve the term socialism for a handful or two of historical periods and relatively short social experiments that broadly fall under the general category of “libertarian socialism.” Among them are examples that readily cross over the First/Third World-Global North/South and the “hard”/“soft” socialist categories. First is the Soviet-led government from the Russian 1917 Revolution until 1922 when opposition parties were outlawed, factions within the Bolshevik party were banned and Stalin started his rise to power. Second is the self-managed anarchist/socialist territories of the Spanish Republic during the 1936-39 civil war before Franco liquidated them. Third is the ongoing policies of indigenismo promoted by the EZLN in Chiapas, Mexico. And fourth is the ongoing system of democratic confederalism under the PYD/YPG in Rojava, Northern Syria.

Each of these examples of libertarian socialist economics—decentralized, socialized economies of collectives, cooperatives, communes, committees and councils—are coupled with democratic multi-party political systems based on parliaments, soviets or assemblies. Libertarian socialist economies have occasionally been combined with one-party vanguardist regimes—the first ten years of villagist ujamaa in Tanzania under the rule of Julius Nyerere’s TANU party, Tito’s Yugoslavia of workers’ councils—but they are no longer libertarian socialism proper.

To be clear, nations that call themselves socialist are a dime-a-dozen.[2] Some have references to socialism in their constitutions, most others are ruled by nationalist political parties that claim to operate on socialist or communist principles, but virtually none are Marxist. A fair number are one-party regimes, military juntas or personal dictatorships. And almost all have capitalist, oligarchic or corporatist economies.

There is also an implied socialism that is winning big by default.

In a world supposedly divided irreconcilably between imperialist nations and anti-imperialist nations, it is common to assume that those countries in the imperialist “camp” are reactionary whereas those countries in the anti-imperialist “camp” are progressive. This basic campism insists that the US is the center of global imperialism and therefore the primary enemy. The anti-imperialist forces arrayed against the US are on the right side of history and are, if not socialist, at least leaning Left. So campism implies that those who oppose imperialism are socialistic.

Lenin formulated the theory of imperialism, but there are no pure Leninist movements, parties or regimes any longer. All are some form of Leninist hybrid—Stalinist, Trotskyist, Maoist, Hoxhaist, Marcyist, ad nauseam. Additionally, the concept of anti-imperialism has spread far beyond its Marxist-Leninist origins. Maoist-inspired movements and parties multiplied under the rubric of anti-revisionism. With the rise of anti-colonial and national liberation struggles the Third World came into its own. But it also became the ideology of Third Worldism. And anti-imperialism has infected anarchism (Love and Rage), autonomism (German Wildcat), even democratic socialism (Democratic Socialists of America). In turn, tankies are Stalinists or campist apologists who defend the use of tanks in the Soviet Union’s invasion of Hungary in 1956, the Warsaw Pact’s suppression of Czechoslovakia in 1968, China’s massacre of the Tiananmen Square protestors in 1989, and the like.

So ideologies that embrace anti-imperialist campism often uphold an ersatz socialistic prognosis. They often claim that since the US is the only imperialist power in the world no other nation can be imperialist. And they often defend not just authoritarian Marxist-Leninist regimes past and present but authoritarian states in general.

Campism is truly the anti-imperialism of fools.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] 1944-47, 1956, 1968, 1970-71, 1976, 1980-81, 1982, 1988

[2] Algeria, Angola, Argentina, Bangladesh, Barbados, Bolivia, Republic of the Congo, Djibouti, Guinea-Bissau, Guyana, Mauritius, Mexico, Moldova, Mozambique, Namibia, Nepal, Nicaragua, Peru, Portugal, Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, South Africa, Sri Lanka, Syria, Tanzania, Venezuela, Zambia, and Zimbabwe.

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Left of the Left: “Lefty” Hooligan, “What’s Left?”, July 2022

I sometimes view humanity’s sordid past as one long, interminable tale chronicling organized bands of murderous thugs trying to exterminate each other. Much as I admire the sentiment of pacifism and humanism, I’m neither a pacifist nor a humanist. Homicide seems to be part of our species, with genocide often its inevitable conclusion.

I’ve been on the left of the Left for most of my life; from being a left anarchist in my youth to a half-assed libertarian Marxist today. That means embracing a vision of stateless, classless global communism even as I abhor the terrors perpetrated by Leninist movements and regimes. I consider all forms of Fascism an abomination, and I dismiss the red-brown sophistry of Third Positionism as fascist sleight-of-hand. In the wake of the precipitous 1989-91 collapse of the Communist bloc, there’s been an upsurge of tankyism/campism on the Left that sees world conflict in terms of US-led imperialism versus any and all opposition to imperialism. That anti-imperialist “camp” is considered socialist by default, even when it’s in defense of patently capitalist, authoritarian, totalitarian, even outright fascist regimes. Then there’s the steady rehabilitation of overtly Fascist/Nazi politics. Last column I commented that, when I was growing up I only saw Nazis as fictional TV characters. Now I see them unashamedly flaunting their fascism in the Republican Party and in demonstrations I’ve recently organized against.

So why do I identify with the Left, despise the Right, and consistently choose socialism over barbarism every time?

Antiwar: “Lefty” Hooligan, “What’s Left?”, May 2022

“Peace is not simply the absence of violence or war”—a truism I grew up with in the 1960s. When I first got politics in 1968 I called myself an anarchist-pacifist and affiliated with the American Friends Service Committee, War Resisters League, and similar organizations which promoted the concept that in order to achieve a social order based on peace, one had to use nonviolent methods. I flirted with the eastern religious concept of ahimsa and the western religious notion of turning the other cheek, as well as more formalized nonviolent practices like Gandhi’s satyagraha.  But soon the contradictions of pacifism, specifically the argument that nonviolence doesn’t save lives or guarantee peace in the short or long run, dissuaded me from remaining a pacifist. Besides, I didn’t have the integrity or discipline to practice any form of nonviolence. And while I rejected the pacifist notion that nonviolent ends require nonviolent means, I incorporated the whole “means-and-ends” argument into my anti-authoritarian politics at the time.

So I opposed the Vietnam War, not so much out of principle but out of self interest. I was subject to the draft and I didn’t want to be conscripted and shipped off to die in a rice paddy in Southeast Asia. Thus I wasn’t part of the peace movement so much as I participated in the antiwar movement. I’ll briefly discuss one small aspect of the anti-Vietnam War movement’s wide and convoluted history—the attempt to build and sustain a single, overarching antiwar organization in the US. The broadest umbrella coalition of people, organizations and issues seeking to end America’s intervention in Southeast Asia was the National Mobilization Committee to End the War in Vietnam (the Mobe).

Anti-imperialism: “Lefty” Hooligan, “What’s Left?”, September 2021

I am against imperialism, be it French, British, US or Chinese. I am not an “anti-imperialist,” since that is a political position supporting national liberation movements opposed to imperialist powers.
—Gilles Dauvé

Mark Twain was an anti-imperialist, a member of the American Anti-Imperialist League (1898-1920) which opposed US annexation of the Philippines. For the League, just republican government was based on the principle of the “consent of the governed” as embodied in the Declaration of Independence, Washington’s Farewell Address, and Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address. The imperialism of US territorial expansion thus violated the classical liberal precepts of self-government and non-intervention as put forward by British writers like John A. Hobson. Twain’s dark sarcasm and claims of America’s liberatory intent notwithstanding, he was neither so generous nor as damning regarding the US continental expansion of Manifest Destiny that expropriated the native peoples. The raison d’être of this type of anti-imperialism was simple; empire was bad and needed to be morally opposed.

Rojava and the ghost of Kropotkin: “What’s Left?” April 2019, MRR #431

Hegel remarks somewhere that all great world-historic facts and personages appear, so to speak, twice. He forgot to add: the first time as tragedy, the second time as farce.
Karl Marx
The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte, 1852

There’s no Left left.
riffing on Gertrude Stein

 

Does history repeat? Are we living through a rerun of the interwar period (1918-1939) with a repeat of the wealth-crazed Roaring Twenties, the dark rise of Fascism, the growing international crisis, and the imminent threat to progressive politics if not all of civilization as we know it? Karl Marx was using the debacle of Louis Bonaparte rhetorically to elicit historical comparisons, bitterly mocking the political situation of his time after the dismal defeat of the 1848 revolutionary wave. Dialectics kept him from falling into the aphoristic thinking of liberal historiography a la Santayana. In reviewing the current state of affairs, I’m tempted to sidestep Marx’s biting humor to acknowledge that history often happens first as tragedy and second as even greater tragedy.

A critique of Fourth Worldism

No more Negative Ned. Instead of critiquing Leftist practice and politics as I often do, I’m writing about something positive and hopeful this essay. To develop some PMA. I wrote a stupider version of this critique many years ago, from which I split off my July 17, 2017, piece called “San Cristobal and Zomia, an exercise in fantasy.” And like that essay, this commentary is not an official MRR column. It’s not Hooligan canon, but apocrypha.

***

Lenin formulated his theory of imperialism in 1900 which differentiates the world capitalist economy into the capitalist national centers of European empire and their exploited colonial periphery. In a Marxist anti-imperialist context, French social scientist Alfred Sauvy coined the term Third World in 1952 as an analog to the Third Estate of the French Revolution. Also jumping off from Leninist anti-imperialism, Mao propounded his Three Worlds Theory by 1974 in which the First World is the developed capitalist nations, the Second World is the socialist nations posing as an international alternative, and the Third World is the orthodox category of undeveloped, underdeveloped and developing  nations. Starting in 1974, Immanuel Wallerstein charted the differentiation of the present world capitalist economy via the consolidation of nation-states and national economies into the fully developed core region, an undeveloped, underdeveloped and developing exploited periphery, and a semi-peripheral region in between. These tripartite schemas imply a fourth geographic tier, a Fourth World in Maoism and an outer periphery in the case of Wallerstein encompassing the marginal territories and peoples incapable of consolidating viable nation-states and national economies.

Against But Not Anti: “What’s Left?” December 2017, MRR #415

I fancy myself a “citizen of the world,” but I’m merely a denizen of these United States of America. As such I feel obliged to oppose US imperialism and seek to dismantle the American empire. But that doesn’t make me an “anti-imperialist.” To quote Gilles Dauvé: “I am against imperialism, be it French, British, US or Chinese. I am not an ‘anti-imperialist’, since that is a political position supporting national liberation movements opposed to imperialist powers.”

For me then, part of not being a dyed-in-the-wool vulgar Leninist anti-imperialist and opposing imperialism “objectively” everywhere is focusing primarily on my country’s imperialist exploitation and appropriation around the world. I really don’t spend much time and energy railing against, for instance, either Russian imperialism or Israeli imperialism.

Russia is a US rival and sometime enemy that has imperialized Georgia, Chechnya, Ukraine, etc., while Israel is a US ally and client state that has imperialized the West Bank and parts of Egypt, Jordan, Syria, and Lebanon. Those military and economic encroachments are only secondarily my concern as I am currently focused on US saber rattling in East Asia (Korea) and South America (Venezuela).

There can be extenuating circumstances of course. I am Polish by family origin so when Russia recently threatened Poland over the removal of WWII Soviet era statues I took notice. My wife is a Jewish “red diaper baby” and she has a consistent anti-Zionist take on Israel. But we don’t spend every minute of every hour of every day denouncing respectively Russian or Israeli imperialism.

What’s more, I suspect that my fellow American netizens who spend all their time and energy condemning Russian imperialism or Israeli imperialism have ulterior motives. In the case of Russia it’s Cold War anti-communism and in the case of Israel it’s old fashioned anti-semitism. Long associated with rightwing politics, anti-communism and anti-semitism are more and more products of the Left.

Anti-imperialism is one of those unifying principles common to Leftist organizations and movements. From the Black Panther Party’s 10-Point Program to more generic points of unity, an ideological laundry list is de rigueur for the Left. Classical anarchism remained largely aloof from this requirement until the rise of the New Left in the 1960s. The practice of formulating points of unity as a programmatic norm and organizing method eventually became part-and-parcel of anarchist organizations and movements generally as they incorporated elements of New Left and old Left politics, an argument post-left anarchists are fond of making. As for the ultraleft, we’ve tended to make each point in any list of basic positions a thorough treatise worthy of its own volume of Capital. Antifascism is yet another unifying Leftist principle.

We’d planned to go to Crissy Field to confront the Patriot Prayer fascists on August 26 when the whole Bay Area was mobilizing despite cancelled bus lines, locked down militarized neighborhoods, unnerving uncertainties, and real physical dangers. There was a lot of political pressure for the National Parks Department to cancel the permit, which didn’t happen, even as other similar provocations around the country were shut down. The overwhelming media coverage of the proposed event guaranteed that the Bay Area Left showed up in force on Saturday.

Other protest events had been planned nearby, such as the SF LovedUp Mobile Dance Counter-Rally just down the bay at Marina Green Park. And lots of folks thought the best strategy was to avoid Crissy Field altogether for symbolic anti-fash events elsewhere. Me, I think it’s always necessary to confront fascism directly. So when Patriot Prayer cancelled their rally the night before and it was clear Joey Gibson had flown the coop the morning of, I was relieved and elated, but also disappointed. Things had changed from directly confronting real live fascists to symbolically protesting the rise of fascism, and I’d done enough symbolic protesting during my last half century of leftist politics thank you. So while I was glad, I only briefly attended the largely celebratory demonstrations at Alamo Square and then the Castro, and I didn’t care to march down Market Street yet one more time. Truth be told, while I was happy San Francisco had repelled the fascists through our mobilization, the symbolic mass demonstrations that followed were a bit of a letdown.

Leave it to Berkeley to set the standard for directly confronting the fash, when a demonstration of 7,000 anti-fascist protesters marched on MLK/Civic Center Park, with 500 embedded black clad antifa overwhelming the police and taking over the park on Sunday, August 27.

I’d intended to demonstrate in San Francisco as an unaffiliated leftist against fascism, not as antifa. For one thing I’m 65 years old, take blood thinners, and have bad knees. I’d stopped the blood thinners days before in case I got hit upside the head by a rogue nazi. But I was there to demonstrate against, not to fight the fash, so I wasn’t going to be on the front lines. I admire antifa and their stated strategy to confront fascism everywhere with direct action. I post a lot of pro-antifa stuff on my facebook profile. But I also hold to a diversity of strategies (per Doug Henwood of The Nation), where “some of us are fighters, some of us organizers—and some of us like to write about history, theory, and the current conjuncture.” I was never good at the “boring hard slog of organizing” and I’m too old for “street-based politics.” So now I kibbitz from the sidelines and go to demonstrations and protest against fascism.

Notice I didn’t say I was antifascist. I have Gilles Dauvé’s reservations of liberal antifascism: “I am (and so is the proletariat) against fascism, be it in the form of Hitler or Le Pen. I am not an ‘anti-fascist’, since this is a political position regarding the fascist state or threat as a first and foremost enemy to be destroyed at all costs, i.e. siding with bourgeois democrats as a lesser evil, and postponing revolution until fascism is disposed of.” Antifa suffers from a similar political monomania, tempered only by it’s emphasis on direct action and it’s de facto anarchism.

And I have criticisms of antifa’s direct action and default anarchism as well. Militarily speaking the decentralized black bloc tactic might work well as cat-and-mouse with the cops, but it’s more like brutal gang warfare against alt.right paramilitary formations. It lacks the capacity to scale up to higher levels of organization, logistics, and mobility, so I think antifa needs to investigate other historic antifascist modes of self-defense such as militias and commando operations.

I have the usual ultraleft critique of anarchism, but for now I think that antifa’s implied goal of anarchism is so far removed from its tactics and strategy as to be useless. To understand my point, consider the goal of democratic socialism held by orthodox social democracy. To achieve that goal social democrats usually put forward parallel political party and labor union mass strategies out of which spring a myriad of tactics—education and propaganda, electioneering and organizing, shadow governments and mass strikes, etc. Rules of engagement are derived from one’s strategies and measures of success from the outcome of one’s tactics. By contrast, antifa has a single strategy—stop the fash—which produces limited tactics—education, doxxing, direct action. Strategy and tactics are so immediate and narrow as to have virtually no direct connection to any stated or implied goal of anarchism. Frankly, I don’t see how one leads to the other except for the usual @ cliché that antifa’s means and ends are identical.

I’m critical of anti-imperialism even while I’m against imperialism. I have criticisms of antifascism and antifa even while I’m against fascism. Similarly, I have problems with most anti-capitalist and anti-colonialist stances even while I’m against capitalism and colonialism. I like to think my political critiques are well-reasoned and not simply a product of my characteristic devil’s advocacy, my knee-jerk contrarianism expressed by Groucho Marx and the Ramones when they sang: “I’m against it!”

De-Identity Theft: “What’s Left?” January 2017, MRR #404

When hungry, eat. When thirsty, drink. When tired, sleep.

― Attributed variously to Baizhang (720-814), Tanxia Tianran (736-824), Huihai (788), Linji (867), or Bankei (1622-1693)

I am against imperialism, be it French, British, US or Chinese. I am not an ‘anti-imperialist’, since that is a political position supporting national liberation movements opposed to imperialist powers.

I am (and so is the proletariat) against fascism, be it in the form of Hitler or Le Pen. I am not an ‘anti-fascist’, since this is a political position regarding the fascist state or threat as a first and foremost enemy to be destroyed at all costs, i.e. siding with bourgeois democrats as a lesser evil, and postponing revolution until fascism is disposed of.

—Gilles Dauvé

I’m going to start a new philosophical movement while I wait to learn whether this country elected the corporatist-globalist-multiculturalist or the nativist-isolationist-populist to be president. It’s like waiting to hear whether the terminal diagnosis is heart failure or cancer. Or the COD is death by firing squad or death by lethal injection. Either way, it’s not good. As for my philosophical movement, I think I’ll call it de-identity.

The germ for my de-identity philosophy started when I took a writing workshop from Cary Tennis who used the Amherst Writers & Artists method developed by Pat Schneider. The AWA appropriated writer William Stafford’s aphorism—“A writer is someone who writes”—and built it into a writing methodology that emphasizes spontaneous writing techniques employed in a group process unencumbered by criticism or deadlines. The whole experience was a little too hippie-dippy-new-agey for my tastes and not at all conducive to honing the craft of writing. So I was glad when Cary developed the idea of the Finishing School, which helped me finish rewriting my second novel.

The phrase “a writer is someone who writes” remains troublesome for me however, not the least because it’s a tautology that means little and tells us less. A dancer is someone who dances. A policeman is someone who polices. A bricklayer is someone who lays bricks. These statements are not just self-evident, they are redundant. Am I a writer if all I do is write a grocery list every morning? If I write the orders for the execution of prisoners on death row? If I write nonsensical word salad screeds because I’m schizophrenic? And how long do I remain a writer once I stop writing? Five minutes? Twenty-four hours? Or once I earn the appellation, is it good for life? This all sounds rather hazy even as the phrase seems vaguely self-congratulatory.

Yes I can be harsh on the AWA’s inspiration and methodology even as I acknowledge that it works for some people to encourage them to write. I have similar reservations for the process and declarations of AA, including their signature “I’m so-and-so and I’m an alcoholic” statement, even while I grant that AA does work for some people to keep them sober. If nothing else, the placebo effect is quite real even though any “cure” remains elusive. My concern is with the identitarian claims that such statements foster and whether they hinder or help the efforts of those who make them. I think that the attempt to fix one’s identity—“I am a writer” or “I am an alcoholic”—in order to fix one’s problems—“I can’t write” or “I drink too much”—ultimately does more harm than good. Rather than face their declining writing abilities, Ernest Hemingway and Hunter S. Thompson committed suicide. Certainly, creative individuals like Philip Seymour Hoffman and Robin Williams were tired and depressed from constantly dealing with their self-admitted addictions and may have committed suicide as a consequence. Issues of declining health and mental problems combined with issues of addiction and creative obsession complicated matters for all four of these individuals, but this but doesn’t negate the point I’m hoping to make.

In line with Gilles Dauvé’s above distinction between opposing imperialism and being an anti-imperialist, or opposing fascism and being an anti-fascist, I rarely call myself an anarchist, a left communist, or even an anti-authoritarian these days. I support most, if not all the positions associated with these political identities at the same time that I reject the inclusive wingnuttery of anarchism, the vulgar dogmatism of left communism, and the kneejerk sectarianism of both. A similar attitude informs my comments in a previous column that sometimes a vote is just a vote. I’ve voted in the Peace and Freedom Party primaries much of my adult life, which doesn’t make me a leftover 60s Leftist. I voted for Barack Obama for president both times around, which doesn’t make me a Democrat. And I voted for Bernie Sanders, which doesn’t make me a democratic-socialist.

Defining a political identity based on voting, or even electoral politics, is ludicrous because that’s not all I do. To expand on a bumper sticker type of mentality, I vote but I also sign petitions, write letters, demonstrate, protest, commit civil disobedience, and riot. Pointing out the broad range of my political involvements is one way of de-indentifying with any one particular political activity, but it doesn’t actually decontextualize me and my politics. Quite the opposite. If I sum up all my individual political tactics into a personal political whole, I arrive at an overall political strategy, that being of an independent-minded, left-of-liberal kind of person. What I’m after instead is what I alluded to above in discussing writing. I’m trying to be overly literal with the phrase “a writer is someone who writes.”

I am a writer only when I write. I am a reader only when I read. I am a critic only when I criticize. I am a voter only when I vote. You get the idea.

It’s one of the flip sides of the Zen saying at the top of this column. And it has some interesting implications. A tongue-in-cheek Zen aphorisms I like is “don’t just do something, sit there” which flips a common saying. When I sit zazen, my intent is to be mindful, to be here now, to be in the moment. So if I’m doing nothing, I’m being nothing. At the moment I sit, my intention is to have no ego. My intention is to have no identity.

And I bet you thought I was going to rail against identity politics.

MY PREDICTIONS

I’m one for four on my electoral predictions, the same odds according to Nate Silver that the Cubs had of winning the World Series or that Trump had of winning the election. Or, more precisely, one for three, with one that doesn’t count. I predicted that Trump and Clinton would win their respective primaries, but I was wrong about everything else. There were no riots at the RNC, indeed there was much more action outside on the streets and inside on the convention floor at the DNC. I certainly was wrong when I thought Clinton would squeak by Trump to win the presidency. And it really doesn’t matter how Gary Johnson did as he was incidental to November 8th’s outcome.

The big news is that Clinton might have won the popular vote, which is still to be determined, but lost to Trump in the electoral vote. I’ll wait until next column to do a more thorough analysis, but for now, a couple of points. Michael Moore early on predicted that the anger and alienation felt by America’s white working class, especially in the midwestern Rust Belt, was so intense that Trump was likely to win if the Democrats didn’t take them into account and do something dramatic. And Nate Silver, whose prediction metrics based on crunching poll numbers, had Clinton leading Trump at around three points just before the elections, with the caveat that three points is well within the margin of error. So while Silver said: “In an extremely narrow sense, I’m not that surprised by the outcome,” he also said: “But in a broader sense? It’s the most shocking political development of my lifetime.” I echo his sentiments.

Now I need to practice some of that detachment I try to cultivate sitting zazen.