In short, the caravan forces us to contend with the political efficacy of these forms of self-activity that are indifferent or opposed to electoral contestation; that are registered instead in another terrain altogether; that measure their success by the degree that they cultivate political agency and construct organizational forms that point beyond the state and its apparatuses, beyond the nation, legal citizenship, and social partitions.
Although identity politics sometimes act as a fetter on genuine multiracial/multicultural alliances, I believe it has also enriched our conception of class. Indeed, there are many serious scholars — I count myself among them — trying to understand how various forms of fellowship, racial solidarity, communion, the creation of sexual communities, and nationalism shape class politics and cross-racial alliances. We are grappling with how self-love and solidarity in a hostile context of white supremacy, the embrace of certain vernaculars, can be expressions of racial and class solidarity, and the way class and racial solidarity are gendered. Not to recognize this is to wonder why more West Indian workers participate in Carnival than in the Labor Day Parade, or why District 1199 had the foresight and vision to maintain an 1199 float and/or banner in the West Indian Day parade. Those who pine for the good old days before identity politics, when class struggle meant rough guys who understood that simply fighting the bosses united us, forget that Yiddish was a source of solidarity within the International Ladies Garment Workers Union, to the point where union leaders were offering courses in Yiddish for black and Puerto Rican workers in the late 1950s, to their dismay. Identity politics, in other words, has always been central to working class movements, from minstrelsy on up.
“But today, as racism and xenophobia return to the centre of western politics, it is time to remember that the background to the first world war was decades of racist imperialism whose consequences still endure. It is something that is not remembered much, if at all, on Remembrance Day.”
But we’re talking about institutions, that also serve as breeding grounds for violent behavior. We’re talking about not only sexual assault in the military, but domestic abuse of those surrounding it and those outside of it. And we’re talking about other institutions, as well, that you could bring into the picture, institutions like policing, in which domestic violence is absolutely rife and in which it’s very difficult to keep weapons out of the hands of those domestic abusers.
And so, we need to think very deeply, I think, about the structural role of what’s going in the society. Trump is abroad selling weapons. And we’ve got someone who, in this case, apparently, was trained, you know, trained to engage in violence abroad. And yet we act surprised when these people have breaks, when they fall into some kind of crisis, when they find maybe feelings of entitlement frustrated, that they then resort to violence, when we’re talking about a structure and institutional apparatus that trains people in violence and that encourages them to feel as though they’re on the losing side of history. You know, Trump makes hay out of the fact that white men, in particular, feel as though they’re the victims of this society, despite being in absolute control of it. And this is something that is powerfully dangerous, and it’s why we’re not seeing only the rise in violent attacks, more generally, and the rise of far-right movements, but we’re certainly seeing, you know, clearly, sort of some very serious incidents of mass violence, as well.