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Posts from 2004

No Pity. No Shame. No Silence.

If you don’t read feministe, you really should. Here’s one reason why:

Last week I came across this at MetaFilter:

I wondered for a moment what it would look like if just for one day, everyone who had survived sexual violence were visible as a survivor, if we could actually see the extent of it, if we could all know just how very not-alone we are. I wondered how angry and sad it would make me to know. I wondered how much power there might be in the truth.

She ends her post with:

I’m Hanne. I’m a survivor of sexual violence.

No Pity. No Shame. No Silence.

Both the LiveJournal post and the MetaFilter post have a long string of comments — some heart-breaking, some infuriating. In fact, misia, the original poster, had to shut down comments after receiving nearly one thousand of them during the first twenty-four hours after her post.

This post seems to have incited a movement of sorts, at least within the LiveJournal universe; people are making buttons and banners; people are coming out of the survivor closet.

— SB, at feministe, 2004-08-15

I have nothing to add. This is far more important, and far more powerful, than anything I could say. Go read. Now.

The Long Memory

CSPAN is always a bit hard-up for programming at 12 in the morning, except when a marathon Congressional debate happens to be stretching into the long, cold hours. Tonight they’ve managed to do–maybe without realizing it–quite a public service, for those who had the chance to see it: they replayed, in its entirety, a remarkable episode of the Dick Cavett show from 1971, featuring a debate between a 27-year-old John F. Kerry, representing Vietnam Veterans for the War, and John O’Neill, representing a small administration front-group calling itself Vietnam Veterans for a Just Peace. In a generation endlessly bombarded with pre-packaged popcult nostalgia, where whole channels are devoted to sit-com reruns and to musical has-beens, this is something unique, and valuable: a chance to sit your fat ass in front of the television and see some actual political history–some of the stuff that people were actually worried about in the 1970s. Of course, that remembering and witnessing basic points of the political debate at a time so recent in living memory counts as mining history, by the standards of our day, is sad enough in itself–but that is another diatribe for another time.

JohnKerryInfrontofCongress1971.jpg

John Kerry testifies before Congress in 1971

As for the show itself: it’s interesting, but I’m not really that concerned with the current well-publicized flap between Mr. Kerry and Mr. O’Neill, or how the Cavett debate illuminates it. It’s obvious that Mr. O’Neill is a two-bit character assassin; and it’s also obvious that he’s a dishonest tool. You could tell that from his recent appearances, and you could tell it from his endless, vituperative red herrings from the encounter in 1971. Nothing new here. And while I do think that the tenor and the conduct of the debate–where, for all of Mr. O’Neill’s interruptions and hectoring, Mr. Kerry’s tightly-argued case was given the space and time and moderation to win the audience over by force of reason–is remarkable as a point of contrast to Howler Monkey cognitive style that is so favored in contemporary public debate, that’s also not what grabs my attention most tonight. What I’m more interested in is what Mr. Kerry said then, when he was younger and wiser:

I want to know why we can’t set a date when we know that the prisoners will come home, when we know that people will stop being maimed for the most senseless purpose in the world …

Whether or not the group on the other side knows it or not–in fact, they should change their name from Vietnam Veterans for a Just Peace to Vietnam Veterans for a Continued War because that in fact is really what Vietnamization is. It is nothing more than a way of getting the United States out of Vietnam by changing the colors of the bodies in that country. It’s a military solution in a problem that requires a very, very sophisticated political solution. And all that it will do in the end is possibly intricate us into a much, much deeper war than we are in now or at least allow us to withdraw in time for the elections of next year when the president can say, Yes, indeed, we did withdraw, at which time more Americans will have lost their lives and more Vietnamese will have lost their lives needlessly.

The bigger issue at hand is the question literally of how the United States is going to get out of Vietnam now, and I have said again and again this evening that we can set a date, that we can bring the prisoners home, but the point is I think this administration is still seeking some kind of victory over there.

as long as you do not settle the political question of how the Vietnamese communists are going to fit in to some kind of regime, as long as you continue the hypocrisy of saying that we are fighting for a democracy when you have a regime which only recently passed a law which may not let them have other candidates in an election, which has some 40 thousand to 100 to 200 thousand political prisoners in jail, which 14 days ago closed down–excuse me–10 days ago closed down 14 newspapers because they printed a key speech about the corruption of the government, as long as we’re supporting this kind of government that doesn’t allow representative forces to be part of it, you are asking for trouble, and that’s what we’re doing.

But I’m glad you’ve raised the question of the Pentagon Papers because I think that … they are a terribly, terribly important aspect of what has happened because they do show–well, they show a great many things and they are partially incomplete, but they certainly show the duplicity and the deceit which has been involved in building up this war because clearly there was a peace candidate who ran in 1964 who was not a peace candidate, and clearly we had–we were committing aggressive acts against–covert warfare against Laos and against North Vietnam prior–without telling the American people. We’ve been bombing Laos now for seven years, and only this year the American people were told, and I think that this typifies a great deal of the most recent approach of the American government to the people, that they’ve shown a kind of disdain for the ability of the American people to determine for themselves the difference between right and wrong, and I think clearly that when it comes to a question of sending men off to fight and to die, the people of this country have the ability to make that decision for themselves.

–John F. Kerry, on the Dick Cavett show in 1971. You can read a decent full transcript online from an anti-John Kerry hatchet site.

JohnKerry2004.jpg

John Kerry hangs out in Congress, 2004

What is it about walking in the halls of power that has put John Kerry so far away from the man who said these words in 1971, with a sense of urgency and earnest moral conviction? When did the mental and moral rot of national honor and winning the peace sink in? Why doesn’t he seem to believe, anymore, that we have a real duty to honestly account for the human costs of a seemingly endless, futile counter-insurgency war?

Why doesn’t he see how living up to his younger seriousness and earnestness would help him (both morally and practically)? Is it controversial, at this point, that Vietnam was a dreadful mistake? How much longer will it be controversial that the Iraq war and the ongoing occupation are also dreadful mistakes, for almost exactly the same reasons as in Vietnam? Why doesn’t Kerry feel that he can connect with the people he’s trying to win over on these grounds? (Hell, when Kerry is facing a steady barrage of character-assassination over how he spent the late 1960s and early 1970s, why aren’t the Democrats paying to run the tapes of this show during prime-time?)

And why don’t we, as citizens, remember what it was like then, and what he was like then? Why can’t we do a better job of urging Mr. Kerry to live up to his best self, and hold him to the standards that he set for himself three decades ago?

Utah Phillips put it this way, and I think he was right: The long memory is the most radical idea in America.

In other news, Senator Kerry tried to head off charges of inconsistent dithering by announcing the other day that he still would have voted for the Iraq war even if he’d known it was all a bunch of goddamned lies. Mr. Bush responded by claiming that this vindicated his bunch of goddamned lies and attempted to slam Mr. Kerry by saying My opponent has found a new nuance–apparently suggesting that nuanced political positions are a sign of weakness. May God continue to bless America, and may God have mercy on our souls.

Further reading

Democracy in Iraq

(I owe the link on Al-Jazeera to Roderick’s News from the Front)

Now that Saddam Hussein’s tyrannical regime is nothing more than a terrible memory, and resistance to the new, friendly, liberal regime is just about almost sorta kinda crushed, we can no doubt look forward to dramatic progress toward the creation of a vigorous, free, American-style democracy in Iraq. For example:

BAGHDAD, Iraq (AP) – Police ordered Al-Jazeera’s employees out of their newsroom Saturday after the Iraqi government accused the Arab satellite channel of inciting violence and closed its office for 30 days.

Iraqi Interior Minister Falah al-Naqib said the closure was intended to give the station a chance to re-adjust their policy against Iraq.

They have been showing a lot of crimes and criminals on TV, and they transfer a bad picture about Iraq and about Iraqis and encourage criminals to increase their activities, he said. We want to protect our people.

from Iraqi Government Shuts Al-Jazeera Station, the Guardian 2004-08-08

You might think I’m just being sarcastic–and very heavy-handedly so. Not at all: I really do think that, in spite of many obvious differences, the new state of Iraq and the polity of the United States are growing more alike with every passing day:

Michael Moore may be prevented from advertising his controversial new movie, Fahrenheit 9/11, on television or radio after July 30 if the Federal Election Commission (FEC) today accepts the legal advice of its general counsel.

At the same time, a Republican-allied 527 soft-money group is preparing to file a complaint against Moore’s film with the FEC for violating campaign-finance law.

In a draft advisory opinion placed on the FEC’s agenda for today’s meeting, the agency’s general counsel states that political documentary filmmakers may not air television or radio ads referring to federal candidates within 30 days of a primary election or 60 days of a general election.

The opinion is generated under the new McCain-Feingold campaign-finance law, which prohibits corporate-funded ads that identify a federal candidate before a primary or general election.

. . .

The FEC ruling may also affect promotion of a slew of other upcoming political documentaries and films, such as “Uncovered: The Whole Truth About the Iraq War,” which opens in August, “The Corporation,” about democratic institutions being subsumed by the corporate agenda, or “Silver City,” a recently finished film by John Sayles that criticizes the Bush administration.

. . .

Since the FEC considers the Republican presidential convention scheduled to begin Aug. 30 a national political primary in which Bush is a candidate, Moore and other politically oriented filmmakers could not air any ad mentioning Bush after July 30.

from Fahrenheit 9/11 ban?, The Hill 2004-06-24

Welcome to the new Iraq and the new America: where democracy is defended by giving the State massive new powers over citizens, and where speech is free as long as you don’t criticize the government.

Here I Am, O Blog

I have returned from six weeks of teaching Logic to gifted junior high and high school students in upstate New York. Yes, if you read the New Yorker, it was that nerd camp–although it’s hard to say, from reading the article, how much of a picture you’ll actually get of what happens (it seems more interested in giving a gawking impressionistic portrait of tricks that really smart adolescents can do–rather than giving an idea of what it’s like at the camp, or taking up an argument on some of the serious ethical and educational dilemmas that a program like CTY raises. The online interview with the author, Burkhard Bilger is actually much better in some ways than the article that appeared in print.) This is one of those things that I’ll hopefully be getting to shortly. In the meantime, though, there’s still plenty to do:

  1. Finish unpacking and clean up around the house
  2. Finish grading post-tests and send them off to the overlords in Baltimore
  3. Apply for substitute teaching jobs in Ypsilanti and Ann Arbor
  4. Post articles to the weblog about two or three things I’ve been meaning to post about for the past 6 weeks
  5. Visit the fam in Auburn. Possibly do a bit of paid petitioning for the Libertarian Party while in Alabama.
  6. Prepare applications for graduate school. Try not to gnaw my gnails down to the knuckle.
  7. Post articles to the weblog about 5,000,000 things or so that I’ve been meaning to post about for the past 6 weeks
  8. Finish reading Toward a Feminist Theory of the State and some other stuff. Work with Roderick on a co-authored paper on libertarianism and radical feminism for the APA Eastern Division.
  9. Smash patriarchy
  10. … and the State.

Cheers, all! I’m glad to be back, and you should be hearing from me again soon.

Pro-Choice on Everything, Part I

When it comes to political argument, you can usually count on abortion to get a response, and it seems that Why We Marched (GT 2004/05/30) was no exception to the trend. Fortunately, unlike most of the responses that you usually expect to draw by writing on abortion, the responses to my article were thoughtful, carefully argued, and deserve consideration and reply. (I think this just goes to show that pessimism about conversation on abortion is understandable but overly hasty. The problem is not that rational argument on the topic is impossible–just that it is very hard; not that people can’t talk reasonably about it, but rather that they don’t. Here, even more than in other areas, it’s vitally important to elicit just what the structure of the arguments is, and I hope I’ve helped a bit in that direction.)

After reading over my post again, and seeing how the responses sorted themselves out, I do think that I didn’t do nearly as good a job as I should have in marking out the two different purposes that I had in the post–the fact that it had two different purposes, that is; if you got that, then I think what they were is pretty easy to discern. This is important, because I think some of the critical replies to my post seemed to muddle the two different issues together, and I think that muddling allowed people to endorse claims for abortion that they would be hesitant–or, at least ought to be hesitant–about endorsing in other areas.

Well, what were the two points being made? To wit:

  1. … that arguments against pro-choice political strategy as anti-democratic (by judicial tyranny in Roe v. Wade-style court decisions as a means to repeal abortion laws) are question-begging: if the basic pro-choice position is correct, then it would be judicial activism to uphold an abortion bill–because there could be no such thing as a (legimately enacted) law to ban abortion.

  2. … that the basic pro-choice position is in fact both reasonable and correct–and thus that courts do have an obligation to throw out abortion bills.

Both of these points are connected with the deductive argument that I gave in defense of Roe-style court decisions:

  1. No government body has the legitimate authority to legalize slavery. (premise)
  2. A legislature can only successfully make a law if they have the legitimate authority to enact that law. (premise)
  3. Courts can only enforce such laws as have successfully been made by the legislature. (premise)
  4. Forcing a woman to carry a pregnancy to term against her will is a form of slavery. (premise)
  5. Courts can only enforce bills that the legislature has the legitimate authority to enact (from 2, 3)
  6. Courts cannot enforce bills that purport to legalize slavery (from 1, 5)
  7. Courts cannot enforce bills that purport to legalize forcing a woman to carry a pregnancy to term against her will. (from 4, 6)

Therefore, no court can rightly uphold, or make a ruling based on, a law that purports to criminalize abortion. Q.E.D.

The first point that I was defending (which I had already argued at some length in my comments at Alas, A Blog) is that this argument is valid, and that all of the premises other than (4) are not only eminently reasonable, but also premises that you have to endorse in order to take judicial activism seriously as a term of critique. And what that means is that if (4) is true, you ought to endorse the conclusion; thus, whether premise (4) is true or not, it is the real issue in the debate. If (4) is accepted, then upholding state abortion bills, not overturning them, would be an act of judicial activism (since no such laws could legitimately have been made by the state legislature). Even if (4) is denied, a charge of judicial activism against pro-choice political methods without an independent argument against pro-choice political goals just begs the question against the pro-choice position–much like trying to give a Christian an argument that Christian doctrines stifle social reform, without first showing her that quietistic doctrines are false.

The second point that I was defending, enlarging on the first, is that the argument is not only valid but also sound: not only are premises (1)-(3) true, but so is premise (4) (because a woman has the right to control her own internal organs–yes, even the reproductive ones–and that right cannot be undermined by someone else’s need to use them). It’s important to see here that you can (indeed, should) accept the first point even if you don’t buy my defense of the second point. If you’re unconvinced by my argument in defense of (4), and remain unconvinced after my clarifications and emendations here, fine–but don’t keep basing your arguments on claims about judicial tyranny (or, mutatis mutandis, principles of democracy, federalism, etc.). The real action is in the debate over premise (4).

Well, just saying that you should accept the first point is not the same as demonstrating it, and apparently some of my interlocutors aren’t yet ready to buy in. Thus, for example, Otto Kerner wrote:

Charles, the flaw in your QED is in an implicit assumption that it is relevant to Roe. It is not. The US Supreme Court has no business enforcing or not enforcing state laws, except in a few specific cases. It was acting outside of its jurisdiction.

The question, of course, is why the Supreme Court has no business upholding or nullifying state laws; and there are a few different reasons that you might hold that. You might, for example, base it on a view of the powers delegated by the United States Constitution; or maybe on a prior notion of state sovereignty (perhaps as recognized by the Constitution); or on a strategic concern for political decentralization. Far be it from me to impute an argument to Otto without his consent–but since I’ll discuss the decentralist concerns in greater detail below I’ll take a moment to deal with the Constitutional claim here whether that’s Otto’s claim or not.

Now, I don’t recognize the authority of the U.S. Constitution in the first place; but since most people seem to think it matters, we can set aside my views on the nature of legal authority for the moment for a bit of immanent critique. The first of the common-sense premises I introduced for my argument was (1) that no government body has the legitimate authority to legalize slavery. I think that (1) is always and everywhere true, under principles of natural law. But whether I’m right about that or not, it’s certainly true of governing bodies if they derive their authority from the United States Constitution–since that reads, in part:

Amendment XIII

Section 1. Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.

Section 2. Congress shall have power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation.

Note that it says within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction; if that doesn’t make state slavery bills the Feds’ concern, I don’t know what could. So if the Supreme Court were ever to hear a case concerning a state bill that purported to legalize slavery, what possible basis could it have for devolving the issue to state courts rather than applying the clear text of the federal Constitution? (Again, since under the Thirteenth Amendment no state legislature can have the authority to make a law that authorizes slavery, it follows that any bill that a state legislature passed to that effect would not be a law; it’s a dead letter just as surely as some “bill” that I wrote on a napkin and passed around to my friends. Thus, any Court which upheld the bill would, in fact, be engaging in an astonishing act of judicial activism, since it is purporting to effect a law where no law had been made by the legislature.)

Of course, this leaves open an additional question (which, I suppose, Otto is right to chide me on) of whether the Supreme Court should hear these cases in the first place. But I can hardly see any way that one could argue that (given the scope of the Thirteenth Amendment) a case over a state slavery bill would not be within the category of all cases, in law and equity, arising under this Constitution (Article III).

Of course, you might argue that forced childbearing is not slavery. You might even think it’s outrageous to even compare the two. But if so, your issue is with premise (4), not with the other premises. (Acid test: would you say the same thing if, say, South Carolina’s legislature were to pass a bill authorizing the enslavement of all Blacks, and the Supreme Court proceeded to strike it down? If you would, you’re nuts. If you wouldn’t, your problem is with (4) alone.)

You might also give me a thwack on the noggin and point out that the Court did not base its decision, in Roe, on the Thirteenth Amendment. True; and that’s too bad, because I think the reasoning would have been much stronger and the ruling much better if they had relied on the Thirteenth Amendment rather than on privacy rights that Griswold claimed to find hanging out in the penumbra of various parts of the Bill of Rights. But you can defend the outcome of a Court case (and the fact that it was decided by the Court) without defending the reasoning behind that outcome. And besides, aren’t the rights protected in the Bill of Rights also the U.S. Supreme Court’s concern (mutatis, mutandis), under the Fourteenth Amendment’s provision that No state shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States? (If not, then what in the world does that provision do?)

Moving away from Constitutional exegesis, Kevin Vallier objected to what he saw as my neglect of the libertarian arguments against Roe specifically: to wit, that

the decision allows the judiciary to literally create rights out of thin air — that in the end, creating a right to privacy and having an institution that is allowed to do this will be destructive of liberty. It isn’t that many libertarians think that abortion should be illegal. It’s that Roe should be repealed and the battle fought in a different way. That’s the reason I’m against Roe; it increases statism by centralizing power.

Now, I don’t doubt that this is an argument against Roe, but I have trouble understanding it as a libertarian argument. I take it to be absolutely vital to libertarianism (as a theory of justice, not as a region on the Nolan Chart) that rights can be recognized or ignored, respected or violated, but they cannot be created or destroyed by anyone–not by judges, not by legislatures, not by executives, and not by constitutions either. A corollary of this is that when a piece of jurisprudence claims to recognize a right, the important question to ask is not whether the judge has the authority to make or unmake the right (no-one does), but rather whether the judge’s claims are true or false. Do you think that a woman’s right to control her own body includes the right to seek an abortion? If so, then you think Roe was rightly decided (although perhaps for the wrong reasons). And if you think that Roe recognizes a legitimate right, then what’s the problem with enforcing it?

That’s not to say that there’s no legitimate issue worth raising here: aside from the question of whether defending Roe is just, there is also the question of whether defending Roe is prudent. As I’ve argued elsewhere (concerning the Violence Against Women Act), it’s perfectly reasonable to be concerned about the strategic value of vesting our hopes in the tender mercies of a highly centralized federal court. It’s something worth worrying about on libertarian grounds–and, for that matter, on radical feminist grounds too (anyone who thinks that a bunch of old white dudes with black robes and government pensions are the source of, or a reliable bulwark for, women’s liberation needs to get their head checked). But I think it’s no less foolish to put our hopes in highly centralized state courts, or state legislatures. When it comes to matters of strategy in playing the two off one another, we have to ask ourselves which of these pompous outlaw gangs is likely to commit or sanction fewer rights violations in the long run? I think any honest appraisal of the past couple centuries of American history has to show that the answer is Well, it depends. Reactionary states have been the primary agents of tyranny no less than the Feds (see: Crow, Jim; see also: race slavery), and choosing which to side with in a conflict is not something to which I think there is any good answer other than ad hockery based on historical precedent. And if we look at the history of cases decided under the Supreme Court’s doctrine of privacy rights, I have to say that the record looks pretty positive: Griswold (1965) abolished state laws banning married couples from obtaining contraceptives, Eisenstadt v. Baird (1972) struck down all state laws banning consenting adults from obtaining contraceptives from a doctor, Roe (1973) nullified most state abortion laws, and Lawrence (2003) did away with state sodomy laws. If you’re pro-choice (mildly or otherwise) and libertarian, that looks like a pretty solid record!

Broadly speaking, it’s very difficult for me to understand the charge that the Court’s privacy doctrine is a harbinger of statism. Whatever the hell the penumbral right of privacy is supposed to mean (and I’m not at all clear on this myself), it is certainly privacy from government interference. It’s no accident that every landmark ruling on the doctrine has curtailed the power of government over the individual rather than enlarged it. How, exactly, is a ruling based on such a principle, even such an admittedly vague one, supposed to give the State more power over people’s day to day lives?

Now, again, I suspect that a lot of the worry that seems to be directed against premises (1)-(3) actually has more to do with discomfort with (4)–and with my failure to adequately put asunder the two questions in my last post. If forced childbearing is slavery, then how could we possibly let the modest rhetorical gains that statism might make in delivering a Supreme Court decision outweigh the massive victory for women’s freedom from government control over their own bodies that the abolition of state abortion bills wins? If, on the other hand, you’re not willing to defend the rightness of the Roe decision, isn’t that just an indicator that you think forced childbearing is different from slavery in some salient respect?

What about the second point of my post–that premise (4) is true, and so that the argument for defending Roe (or similar court rulings) is sound? Well, there’s plenty to say about that, too–but not, alas, tonight. I hope, for now, that I’ve cleared the ground for approaching what I take to be the real issue in the debate.

For further reading

(Standard disclaimer: People other than myself may or may not agree with everything I have to say here; and while they certainly ought to, my act of linking shouldn’t be taken as a claim in either direction.)

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