Genocide denial by default

—Nicole Rafter

The great centennial commemoration of the Armenian genocide is almost over. With parades in San Francisco, Los Angeles, and New York City, massive rallies in Argentina, prayer services in Washington, D.C., historical displays at the Library of Congress, and a formal remembrance by the European Union, Armenians and their supporters have kept alive memories of the atrocities of 1915.

In Boston, over three thousand gathered at the Armenian Heritage Park to honor the 1.5 million Armenians slaughtered by the Turks, a genocide that saw men tortured and shot, women raped and beheaded, and children forced to jump into the Black Sea to drown. Pope Francis recognized the event as “the first genocide of the 20th-century.”

Trouble is, the Pope—although admirable in his intentions—was wrong. So were others who memorialized the Armenians as the first 20th-century victims of mass atrocities.

The first victims of 20th-century genocide were in fact the Herero, a group of semi-nomadic tribes in South-West Africa (now Namibia). Before colonization by Germany began, in the 1880s, the Herero’s tribal confederation consisted of about 85,000 people. Caught up in the “scramble for Africa,” Germans settlers moved into South-West Africa as if by right, taking the natives’ cattle, building railroads on their grazing lands, raping and shooting women, and flogging men to death until the Herero decided to rise up.

The Herero knew they could not possibly win a fight against the Germans settlers and their army. “Let us die fighting,” counseled one chief, “rather than die as a result of maltreatment, imprisonment, or some other calamity.”

The surviving son of a Herero leader said his father “knew that if we rose in revolt we would be wiped out in battle because our men were almost unarmed and without ammunition. The cruelty and injustice of the Germans had driven us to despair, and our leaders and the people felt that death had lost much of its horror in the light of the conditions under which we lived.”

In response to the uprising, the German emperor put the colony under military rule and sent in Lieutenant General Lothar von Trotha, who had already brutally suppressed rebellious blacks in East Africa. Delivering his opinion of “race war” with Africans, von Trotha declared that “no war may be conducted humanely against nonhumans.” To his soldiers (as to the general himself), Africans seemed more like “baboons” than human beings.

Hung, burned, shot, starved, and driven into the desert to die of thirst, few Herero survived von Trotha’s extermination order. More than three-quarters died, while survivors became virtual slaves to the German settlers.

Germany held onto the colony for another decade but was forced out by an invasion from South Africa during World War I. After that, the British took control of what had once been Herero lands.

This was the first genocide of the 20th-century. If the Herero genocide is more obscure today than the Armenians’, it may be because of race, location, and geopolitics. It is wonderful that we have, in the Armenian case, monuments and memorials commemorating white people who were targeted for extermination partly because the Turks wanted their land. At the same time, we should remember these black people who were targeted for extermination because Germany wanted African land.

Genocide denial comes in many forms. We are familiar with the brazen dismissals of Holocaust deniers. We are also familiar with Turkish insistence that their country did nothing but “relocate” the Armenians. A more subtle but equally insidious form of erasure is genocide denial by default—by inadvertence or ignorance.

Unfortunately, the Pope’s claim that the Armenian genocide was “the first genocide of the 20th-century” marginalizes and ignores the near-extinction of the Herero.

This too is a form of genocide denial.

Nicole Rafter is Professor of Criminology and Criminal Justice at Northeastern University. She is the author of Criminology Goes to the Movies: Crime Theory and Popular Culture (NYU Press, 2011).

Comment forums reveal GOP dissatisfaction

—Karen S. Hoffman

[This post is part of the 2016 election series, curated by Victoria A. Farrar-Myers and Justin S. Vaughn, co-editors of Controlling the Message.]

Since the 2012 election cycle the role of digital politics continues to evolve. Now the story is all about social media: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and LinkedIn are all venues for candidates to communicate with voters. (All declared, and soon to be declared, candidates have Facebook and Twitter accounts.) Hillary Clinton leads on Twitter with over 3.7 million followers. Donald Trump is not far behind with just over 3 million. Rand Paul has the most “likes” on Facebook with over 2 million. There is good reason for the candidates to use social media tools. Pew reports that in 2014, 71% of adults online use Facebook. Sixty-five percent of those share, post, and comment at least sometimes on Facebook. And almost one-third of those post and comment about the news on Facebook. Data on Millennials is even more striking. According to Pew, Facebook is their main source for news about government and politics.

Social media has also impacted the way that citizens participate in political debate. At the time of my analysis of the 2012 presidential election, the main space for people to join an online debate about political issues was the comment forum that sits below individual articles on many news sites. While the democratizing effect of this type of public debate was celebrated, the substance of the discourse was also criticized as rude and vulgar. Some believed that the language on such forums represented only the most extreme and polemic views, undermining public discourse altogether. I disputed this position in my analysis of 2012 comment forum speech leading up to the presidential election, demonstrating that the substance of most comment forum speech was, in fact, fairly similar to elite discourse about the presidential election. If there was a problem with incivility during the 2012 election cycle, the problem existed far beyond citizen comment forums.

Heading into the 2016 presidential cycle, social media has also changed the nature of comment forums. Due to the tremendous increase in social media users, as well as a desire to improve the civility of comments, many news sources either require contributors to sign in through an existing social media account, or have moved public discussion to social media sites altogether. For instance, in 2014, Huffington Post banned anonymous comments and required contributors to sign in through a social media account to ensure that their comments were attached to a real name (no more “sukonthis,” “libs_r_trouble,” or “mancreatedgod”). CNN removed its comment forums altogether at the end of 2014, opting to host discussion via its Facebook and Twitter platforms. Fox News is an interesting exception. During the months leading up to the 2012 election, Fox News disabled its comment function completely, but since the election, has brought back the comment forum for some articles. In general, all news sites now have Facebook accounts, whether or not they have retained the comment forum function on their official news sites.

So, has the move to Facebook altered the substance of online public discourse? At this stage, it is difficult to compare current Facebook discussions with my original analysis. The 2012 data came from comments generated in the final months of the general election cycle, while we are barely into the primary season for 2016. Discussion during a primary season is likely qualitatively different from discussion during a general election, when internal party disagreement decreases. Keeping in mind that this is the primary stage, with most of the cycle still ahead us, two things stand out in comment forums. First, the changes in comment forums rules and venues have not changed the discourse. Second, conservative commenters are really angry at the Republican establishment.

First, language has not changed much as it moves to social media. Comments are still very polarized, routinely rude, and often tied to policy issues, very loosely defined, which is what I found in my first analysis. The one difference is not the speech, but the more polarized discussion spaces. As people rely on social media for their news, they are exposed to fewer perspectives, because even more than before, people see the news they want to see. It is also still true that social media comments on the 2016 presidential race still track fairly closely with elite discourse, which is similar to my findings in 2012. Because the rules now make it harder (although not impossible) to post anonymously, it is increasingly difficult to dismiss comment forums as the ravings of extremists and trolls who do not represent real citizens’ views. Further, as Pew reports, “For most politically active SNS users, social networking sites are not a separate realm of political activity. They are frequently active in other aspects of civic life.” While we might want to ignore this discourse, the people posting on comment forums are likely to be a factor in the presidential election.

Second, it is abundantly clear that there is discontent amongst the conservatives represented on comment forums. Everyone knows that liberals and conservatives are polarized, but the division within the Republican Party is extremely evident online, as well. Conservatives who post on these forums are very upset with the Republican establishment. They believe that their causes have faced nothing but losses – losses that are the fault of Republicans, such as a majority Republican Congress that has not delivered results (in their minds) and two significant defeats from a presumably conservative Supreme Court (on healthcare and gay marriage.) Typical posts on the subject are as follows:

“Why [have] the Republicans…done NOTHING since they won a landslide victory in both houses???????????????”

“I have not missed a presidential vote since Reagan in 1980. I’m so very close to sitting this next one out. The candidate better be an uncompromised Constitutionalist or I’m out.”

“…Thus far, none of the elected Republicans have shown any backbone at all or done what they promised they would do. We still have Obamacare, it’s not defunded, or removed. We still have a budget that only serves special interests. We have the rights of Christians, gun owners, and the constitution under attack. Can ANY of YOU remember that you are elected to protect the Constitution?…”

The fury fairly leaps off the page on these forums and it is clear that at this point in the election cycle they are not at all interested in candidates who can build coalitions and consensus. They want a fighter who will defeat the opposition, not work with them.

Enter Donald Trump. Many elites scoff at Trump’s bombastic language, fairly criticizing its flaws in fact and tone. They are also surprised (and sometimes worried) at the support he has received thus far. Based on comment forum discourse, however, it is not surprising at all. The attraction of Trump is not his mastery of policy issues – it is his uncompromising, “take no prisoners” approach to our political problems. For conservatives who feel the establishment wing achieves nothing by bargaining and negotiating in the political process, his rhetoric is music to their ears. In the words of commenters,

“These main stream Republicans are running scared. The are basically no different than the democrats. Spineless. Crank it up Mr. Trump!”

“The republicans bashing trump are weak. And jealous of him. These republicans are the same ones meander [sic] with the dems behind close [sic] doors.”

“I want Ted Cruz, Carly Fiornia and other candidates – including Donald Trump included in the upcoming debates. No more shoving some weak kneed GOP candidate who will lose (again) to the Liberal Progressives who have taken over the Democrat party. If FOX can’t accomplish this simple task, why should we TRUST FOX NEWS anymore?”

There is currently great support for Trump’s candidacy. Of the first 100 comments on a Fox News Facebook post about Trump, 92 expressed support. This is typical for conservative forums where support for Trump currently in the majority, if not a supermajority. A tally of the comments on a CNN Facebook post about Anderson Cooper’s interview with Trump showed less support, only 24 of the first 100 comments were supportive (which is not insignificant, given CNN’s position in the media’s mainstream). Based on a reading of the first 100 comments of four CNN Facebook pieces about presidential candidates, approximately 20% support Trump. Of course, today’s frontrunners may be forgotten in a few months (or even weeks), but the anger at establishment Republicans is the force driving support for Trump and will likely continue to be a factor in the race. Trump may not be the ultimate vehicle for this element of the Republican Party, but they want a candidate who is a fighter and not interested in bargaining and compromise.

Viewed individually, comment forum posts do not provide much insight on public opinion and they mostly serve to alarm everyone about the decline of civilized discourse. If you read enough of this speech, however, overall trends emerge. In the aggregate, comment forums are particularly useful in identifying more visceral aspects of opinion. The substance of this language is similar to elite discourse, but public comments tap into an overall mood.

Every week is a lifetime in a political campaign and it is not likely that Trump’s appeal can survive the entire primary cycle. The details of his various policy pronouncements are conveniently vague, and his bold statements will not be as impressive when subjected to close scrutiny. The anger and division within the Republican Party will remain, however, and Republican candidates will have the unenviable task of placating a very active wing of the Republican Party that is not in the mood for compromise and wants nothing to do with Establishment Republicans. I would not be surprised if many Republican candidates are currently hearing this message loud and clear (which is why many of them are hesitant to simply denounce Trump) and will continue to incorporate plenty of “fighting” words in their discourse. It is telling that Scott Walker’s speech declaring his candidacy did not tout a record of building consensus and getting things done, but rather that he could fight and win.

By the time the general election rolls around, this rebellion could subside as Republicans close ranks against the Democratic candidate, but the gist of the current comment forum language is that they erred in “settling” for Mitt Romney in 2012 and are not going to make that mistake again.

Karen S. Hoffman is Director of Undergraduate Studies and Visiting Assistant Professor in the Department of Political Science at Marquette University. She is the author of Popular Leadership in the Presidency: Origins and Practice. She has also published articles on the presidency, presidential rhetoric, and political communication in Rhetoric & Public Affairs and Congress and the Presidency. Her essay on comment forum speech appears in Controlling the Message: New Media in American Political Campaigns (NYU Press, 2015).

Controlling the message

—Victoria A. Farrar-Myers and Justin S. Vaughn

It is that time of the election cycle again, when presidential campaigns are gearing up and preparing for primary contests and, for a select few, general election races. As the would-be presidents seek to turn their electoral dreams into action, they are hiring staff, establishing PACs, and wooing donors. In addition, as many hopeful candidates have done in recent elections, they are building social media management teams, whose sole job it is to shape the candidate’s brand, leverage their political platform, and control ‘the message.’

In our recent volume, Controlling the Message: New Media in American Political Campaigns, we collected more than a dozen essays that draw on real-time data collected during the 2012 election cycle to analyze how the new politics of social media affect, and are affected by, political campaigns. As the 2016 elections approach, we plan to bring you a series of blog posts from authors of those essays that link this scholarly knowledge to ongoing developments in the world of politics.

The excerpt that follows is from the first of these pieces. Authored by Karen Hoffman of Marquette University, it examines the political rhetoric of comment forums found at online media sites. Professor Hoffman shows that the dynamics of comment forum rhetoric so far in this election cycle continue to demonstrate the characteristics she wrote about in Controlling the Message. Further, she makes key observations about what this rhetoric tells us about conservative Republicans in the current election cycle.

So, has the move to Facebook altered the substance of online public discourse? At this stage, it is difficult to compare current Facebook discussions with my original analysis. The 2012 data came from comments generated in the final months of the general election cycle, while we are barely into the primary season for 2016. Discussion during a primary season is likely qualitatively different from discussion during a general election, when internal party disagreement decreases. Keeping in mind that this is the primary stage, with most of the cycle still ahead us, two things stand out in comment forums. First, the changes in comment forums rules and venues have not changed the discourse. Second, conservative commenters are really angry at the Republican establishment…

Read the whole essay here, and follow the series on the NYU Press blog.

Victoria A. Farrar-Myers is Senior Fellow and Director of the Tower Scholars Program in the John Goodwin Tower Center for Political Studies at Southern Methodist UniversityJustin S. Vaughn is Associate Professor of Political Science at Boise State University. They are co-editors of Controlling the Message: New Media in American Political Campaigns (NYU Press, 2015).

Book notes: Beyond Deportation

—Shoba Sivaprasad Wadhia

“Prosecutorial discretion” refers to a decision made by an agency (in this case, the Department of Homeland Security) about whether or not to enforce the immigration laws against a person or group of persons. A prosecutorial discretion grant is significant because it functions as a temporary form of protection from deportation even though the immigration “status” conferred is tenuous.

wadhia frontA prosecutorial discretion grant is also important to the agency because it allows the agency to use its limited resources to pursue true enforcement priorities and also injects compassion into an otherwise complex and broken immigration ­system. Beyond Deportation reveals just how much and for how long prosecutorial discretion in immigration law has been grounded on compassion.

The visibility of prosecutorial discretion has increased in such dramatic ways that it becomes hard to imagine a time when prosecutorial discretion fell outside the popular immigration vocabulary. Its popularity peaked in June 2012 when President Barack Obama announced a policy termed DACA, or Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals. DACA is a form of prosecutorial discretion in immigration law and has allowed thousands of young people to work, study, and drive in the United States with dignity and without the constant fear of arrest and possible deportation.

Prosecutorial discretion became even more popular after November 20, 2014 when President Obama announced a series of executive actions on immi­gration. These actions include an expansion of the DACA program and the establishment of a new deferred action program for qualifying parents of U.S. citizens and lawful permanent residents in cases where the parents have resided in the United States for at least five years. These most recent deferred action programs are on hold because of litigation by 25 states and the state of Texas against the federal government challenging the legality of these programs. Along with these “on-hold” deferred action programs, the Administration published a new priorities memo entitled “Policies for Apprehen­sion, Detention, and Removal of Undocumented Immigrants.” The priorities memo is operational today and in six pages attempts to spell out the Administration’s priorities for removal and a refined prosecutorial discretion policy.

One of the chapters in Beyond Deportation discusses the immigration case of John Lennon and the efforts undertaken by his attorney, Leon Wildes, to encourage the immigra­tion agency to publish its policies about prosecutorial discretion. The Lennon case is significant because it triggered the publication of the immigration agency’s first guidance on “deferred action,” a form of prosecutorial discretion that has been used as a remedy for individu­als facing compelling circumstances for many years and was showcased most recently with the President’s executive actions. The book offers context to this case by providing a detailed history of “deferred action” and examples of how it has been applied to both individuals and special populations, such as vic­tims of domestic violence, sexual assault, and other crimes. The book scrutinizes thousands of deferred action cases and identifies a historical and humanitarian pattern for the types of cases that are processed and granted deferred action. In the last fifty years, people have received deferred action for largely humanitarian reasons, including the following attributes: advanced or tender age; long term presence in the United States; serious medical condition, or a primary caregiver to a person with a serious medical condition; and family members who are U.S. citizens.

Much of the deferred action data analyzed in Beyond Deportation was obtained through the Freedom of Information Act, or FOIA. In the early years of my FOIA adventures, the data was in some cases disorganized, illegible and elusive. Even obtaining illegible data was remarkably exhausting and sometimes involved multiple communications with FOIA officers, government attorneys and the DHS’s own ombudsman. But the challenge was not limited to the shield held by the agency over the information itself or questions to myself about whether practitioners and scholars should have to file a FOIA to obtain basic information on topics such as ‘how to file a deferred action request.’ The challenges were more complex because some of the data I sought was simply not tracked by the agency. As one example and as a result of a FOIA lawsuit with ICE over deferred action cases, ICE confirmed that it did not track deferred action cases before 2012.

My own experiences in seeking and sorting data inform the book’s discussion about transparency. Transparency in prosecutorial discretion mat­ters because it improves the possibility that justice will be served for people whose roots and presence are in United States. Transparency also promotes other administrative law values like consistency, efficiency and public acceptability. I commend DHS for advancing these values through DACA—by creating a program that is trans­parent and aimed at protecting young people who satisfy the program’s core elements and, in these modern times, reflect the program’s humanitarian roots.

Beyond Deportation closes with praise for DACA but is replete with recommendations to the general deferred action program, which continues to lack form, specific criteria or even basic instructions on how to apply. As to the broader prosecutorial discretion policy, the bookcalls on DHS to look at the whole person when making prosecutorial discretion decisions. DHS memoranda on prosecutorial discretion suggest that no one single factor is dispositive to a prosecutorial discretion decision. However, the book’s case profiles of those deported—and anecdotes from immigration advocates and members of Congress about the impact of these deportations on families—raise important concerns to the contrary.

Whether or not prosecutorial discretion has earned visibility for political reasons, understanding the history of prosecutorial discretion and the important role it plays in U.S. immigration law is essential. My own preoccupation with prosecutorial discretion began during my time as law student clerk and later attorney at Maggio Kattar P.C. I worked on a wide range of immigration cases, but the most life-changing cases involved those individuals whose only prayer was prosecutorial discretion. Following the attacks of September 11, 2001, I worked for several years as a legislative lawyer in front of the “political” branches, advocates, and affected communities. In the decade after 9/11, agency officials and policymakers were loath to openly discuss “prosecutorial discretion.” For the last seven years, I have lived in central Pennsylvania writing largely about the role of discretion, teaching immigration, and directing the Center for Immigrants’ Rights Clinic. This professional background combined my personal life experience as a child of immigrants raised in the U.S. with tremendous opportunity, a wife, and mother set the landscape for Beyond Deportation. I am honored to have had the opportunity to write this book and to share some of its origins here.

Shoba Sivaprasad Wadhia is the Samuel Weiss Faculty Scholar, law professor, and director of the Center for Immigrants’ Rights at Penn State Law. She is the author of Beyond Deportation: The Role of Prosecutorial Discretion in Immigration Cases (NYU Press, 2015).

To eradicate health care disparities, the Supreme Court needs enforcement

—Dayna Bowen Matthew

matthewIn the long-awaited King v. Burwell ruling last month, the Supreme Court took a major step forward in the fight to eradicate the racial and ethnic health disparities that result in the loss of over 83,000 black and brown lives in America each year. But just as the Court’s groundbreaking Brown v. Board of Education decision was not enough to guarantee equal educational opportunity for minorities in 1959, the Supreme Court’s ruling alone cannot ensure equality in American health care today.

King v. Burwell hinged on the decision to uphold tax subsidies for those who purchased coverage through the Affordable Care Act (ACA).  By affirming the constitutionality of the Affordable Care Act’s tax credits for individuals with household incomes between 100% and 400% of the federal poverty line, the Court’s ruling preserved the economic support that many low income families (by some estimates, over 26 million Americans) rely on to buy health insurance and access health care.

Beyond preserving the Act’s economic support, King v. Burwell also protected the Affordable Care Act’s nondiscrimination provisions. Section 1557 of the ACA is the first-ever civil rights provision to specifically prohibit discrimination in the health care industry. This statute could represent a turning point—a veritable Gettysburg—in the fight against racial and ethnic health disparities. But only if the Department of Health and Human Services (DHHS) makes full use of it.

Section 1557 breathes new life into Title VI of the Civil Rights Act and could be enforced to prohibit discrimination in health care based on race, color, or national origin. Thus far, the DHHS has applied Section 1557 successfully to combat sex discrimination in health care—important in its use to protect transgender patients, and ensure that providers treat men and women equitably in the context of hospital emergency departments. DHHS has also employed Section 1557 to win a number of significant agreements requiring providers across the country to ensure language access for persons with limited English proficiency. But HHS can, and must, go further.

The Department of Health and Human Services must use Section 1557 to challenge the well-documented discriminatory treatment practices that deny minority patients access to medical care for heart disease, diabetes, cancer, and a wide range of other illnesses. Section 1557 has yet to be leveraged to curb rampant discriminatory patient admission and transfer practices; differential pricing and prescribing of specialty drugs used to treat chronic diseases that disproportionately affect minority patients; gross under-representation of minorities in research clinical trials; or the shocking lack of diversity in the medical workforce, all of which are persistent contributors to disparate health outcomes for racial and ethnic minorities.

The deadly, disparate impact of these and other discriminatory practices can and should be the focus of new investigations and enforcement activities. Only then will we ensure an end to the legacy of inequality in America’s health care system.

Dayna Bowen Matthew is Professor at University of Colorado Law School and the Colorado School of Public Health. She serves on the faculty of the University of Colorado Center for Bioethics and Humanities, and she is co-founder of the Colorado Health Equity Project, a medical legal partnership whose mission is to remove barriers to good health for low-income clients. She is the author of Just Medicine: A Cure for Racial Inequality in American Health Care (NYU Press, 2015).

The moment of maybe

—Joshua Gamson

rainbow-flagIn the days since Obergefell v. Hodges and its rainbow celebration, I spent way too much time on Facebook reading through the voluminous posts and commentaries about how wonderful, awful, incomplete, conservative, progressive, lame, and historic is the Supreme Court’s decision.

Setting aside the more strident, ungenerous, overstated, patronizing, and self-serving of these—frankly, that eliminates a lot of them—these stocktaking discussions highlight several important, basic points. First, marriage equality symbolically and legally marks the end of outsider status for many within gay movements, and that is both an uneasy and vexed transition. Second, there’s a whole lot more work to be done, both in terms of completing the equalization of rights and the broader work of social justice and institutional change; beware of what Michelangelo Signorile has called “victory blindness.” Third, the fact that the Supreme Court ruled favorably towards marriage equality, and that public opinion, pop culture, and big business have shifted so favorably towards gay rights in recent years, stands in stark, telling juxtaposition to the heightened attacks on black Americans and the rollback of reproductive rights.

Clearly, the Supreme Court’s marriage equality decision marks a turning point for the LGBT movement—or rather, for the diverse, messy array of efforts and organizations that fall under that rubric. The question now is what that movement will do in this moment of possibility. A lot of smart people have been thinking, writing, talking, and acting on that question, and the best I can do is to cull from them the intertwined principles that might guide the next stages in this vibrant, ass-kicking movement.

Formal equality is not enough. Activists such as Urvashi Vaid have for decades been pointing to the limits of pursuing a “state of virtual equality that would grant legal and formal equal rights to LGBT people but would not transform the institutions of society that repress sexual, racial, and gender difference.” If you needed a devastating reminder of legal equality’s insufficiency, you could get that by flipping from the breathless SCOTUS celebrations to Rev. Pinckney’s dead body being carried past the Confederate flag. Now that gay and lesbian virtual equality is now well within reach—legal scholar Nan Hunter predicts that the LGBT-rights movement “will seem banal in 20 years if not sooner”—LGBT movements can return to a more ambitious social justice agenda.

Do not close the doors. A few years ago, Vaid suggested the guiding movement principle of “Leave No Queer Behind,” and it’s a crucial one at this moment. One of the risks when some beneficiaries of a movement are invited into social institutions is that they will abandon those who remain by necessity or choice on the margins. Refusing to do so—refusing to betray or abandon those who aren’t easily assimilated or who don’t want to assimilate—may involve the movement, as historian Timothy Stewart-Winter points out, in challenging the institutions that have just invited some of us in.

Intersectionality is not just a theory. That sexuality is intertwined with race, class, gender, physical ability, age, and the like is often noted but has not deeply informed much of mainstream LGBT rights organizing. It should be impossible to see the attacks on black and brown bodies, for instance, as an issue separate from LGBT concerns, if only for the obvious reason that some of us are LGBT people of color. The fight for gay rights has advanced in part by deploying economic and racial privilege, and over time, Vaid asserts, LGBT organizations have moved away from their earlier intersectional roots; the movement has been “oddly complacent in its acceptance of racial, gender, and economic inequalities, and vocal only in its challenge to the conditions facing a white, middle-class conception of the ‘status queer.’” At this turning point moment, she has advocated, a “re-formed LGBT movement focused on social justice [must] commit itself to one truth: that not all LGBT people are white or well-off.”

Coalitions, coalitions, coalitions. All of these linked principles—seeing formal equality as a starting rather than end point, refusing to leave anyone behind, making intersectionality a core organizing principle—promote a renewed focus on building and strengthening coalitions. The movement itself has always been a coalition, of course, and a fragile one; this transitional moment offer an opportunity to recommit to a coalition of lesbian and gay and bisexual and transgender coalition. It’s also an opportunity to imagine and enact new progressive coalitions; some are already working on these coalitions, and others have long ties that can be renewed.

Until last week, these principles seemed right but like a bit of a lost cause. As sociologist Suzanna Danuta Walters puts it, the gay marriage fight, for all its practical and symbolic value, took up a lot of “bandwidth and sucked the air out of the potentially more capacious room of queer world-making.” Now, at this turning point, when energy can be redirected and different voices emboldened, they seem instead like hopeful possibilities. Whether the LGBT movement manages to, as Walters says, “pivot and recalibrate,” I can’t predict, but the principles for recalibration are certainly well articulated. We are in a big moment of maybe.

Joshua Gamson is Professor of Sociology at the University of San Francisco. He is the author of Modern Families: Stories of Extraordinary Journeys to Kinship (NYU Press, 2015). Follow him at @joshgamson.

[This article originally appeared on the Contexts blog, a publication of the American Sociological Association.]

Gay marriage: Check. Queer liberation: ?

—Suzanna Danuta Walters

Even a feminist/queer critic of marriage (me, alas) can’t help but be moved by today’s decision by the Supreme Court that finally makes marriage equality the law of the land. And coming as this does the day after the Supremes ruled for the Affordable Care Act, putting to rest the Republican obsession with denying Americans health care coverage, all people of good faith (or even simple common sense) should be celebrating. But after the champagne corks are popped and the tears of victory dry, it may be time (long overdue, in my estimation) for the LGBT movement to pivot and recalibrate. The push for marriage rights as signifying all things gay and all things “equal” has taken up too much bandwidth and sucked the air out of the potentially more capacious room of queer world-making.

So no27scotus4w that the battle is won, how can the movement (or movements more accurately, since the idea of some monolithic “gay movement” is already a problem) re-imagine and re-invent itself? Some moves are already being made, as LGBT activists and organizations have increasingly engaged with broader social justice movements such as “Black Lives Matter,” and other interventions against police brutality and mass incarceration. Surely this work needs to deepen and continue. And the always-frustrating inability for the gay movement to double down on its commitments to core feminist concerns such as sexual freedom, gender violence, and reproductive rights needs to be reckoned with head on. Indeed, as gay marriage triumphed in state after state (and now the Supreme Court), anti-abortion laws and restrictions also barreled ahead, a point Katha Pollitt detailed painfully in a recent piece in The Nation.

There is a danger that this pivot won’t happen, that gay rights organizations and the money that backs them will pat themselves on the back and declare victory over the ills of homophobia, as if one basic right signifies full inclusion and the end of anti-gay animus.

But there is also a danger that the ideology that undergirded much of the marriage movement (that the couple is sacrosanct and “special,” and the only way to raise healthy children; that gays are “born this way” and sexual identity and desire are hardwired so we just can’t help ourselves; that same-sex marriages and parenting as “no different” from heterosexual ones and pose no challenge to heterosexual business as usual) will mitigate against a recalibration that requires a more complex understanding of discrimination and hatred and a more robust vision of inclusion and freedom. In other words, this recalibration must entail a hard look at the problematic arguments (about biology, about family, about gender, about tolerance) that became the common-sense ideology of the marriage movement and, more generally, came to stand in for how “gay rights” have been thought about these past ten years or so.

Celebrate we should – but let us now look back to our more radical liberationist past (a past linked closely with broader concerns over social justice and gender equity) and look forward to a utopian future in which marriage is a basic right, not the brass ring of equality, and the queering of the world does more to rattle the cages than knock discreetly at the chapel door.

Suzanna Danuta Walters, author of The Tolerance Trap: How God, Genes, and Good Intentions are Sabotaging Gay Equality (NYU Press, 2014), is Professor of Sociology and Director of Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies at Northeastern University and Editor-in-Chief of Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society. 

Obama and the N-word

—Andra Gillespie

The president said the N-word, and it became a top news story.

Now, it wasn’t the first time a president said the word — recordings exist in which Lyndon Johnson and Richard Nixon use the term artfully and prolifically.

However, it was the first time in recent memory that we know that a president used the term and meant to be heard saying it publicly. And, of course, it is not lost on audiences that said president is black.

Since I am someone who studies how black politicians born after 1960 advocate for African American interests, this story definitely piqued my interest.

What does it mean for any president, much less a black one who used race-neutral campaign tactics, to use such a word?

And is our attention on this story a distraction, especially in light of real racial issues, like police brutality and the recent hate crime in Charleston?

A proper use of language

I think people are making a bigger deal about President Obama’s use of this word than is necessary.

Yes, it is rarely heard in polite company. But if one has to use the word, the way in which President Obama deployed it was entirely proper.

He was not using it as part of his Chris Rock or Richard Pryor impression. He was not calling out any person or group of people. He used the term in the context of talking about people who say that word.

And frankly, by using the actual word instead of resorting to the contrivance of saying “the N-word,” he was rhetorically effective.

The problem is our collective American tendency to be superficial.

When President Obama invoked the N-word, he was making an important point about structural racism and our moral responsibility to be vigilant against all remaining forms of racial discrimination.

He rightly pointed out that some people think that refraining from the use of racial slurs is the sum of eliminating racism.

He rightfully observed that removing those words from one’s vocabulary is but a small part of promoting racial equality.

Yes, we should modify our language to be respectful of all people, but one can racially profile, deny jobs, housing and equal pay, and provide substandard schooling to minorities without calling them a racial slur. Frankly, these things are materially more important.

In his own way, President Obama was trying to shock Americans into thinking more critically about racial issues.

Starting a conversation about race

There is a tendency in this country to avoid serious conversations about race.

We’d rather relegate racism to the 1950s or contend that it is a province of backwards southerners.

Then, when we are confronted with the facts of continuing inequality — like the fact that in New York, black and Latino youth were more likely to be stopped and frisked by the police without cause or that last year, the Pew Research Center found that median white net worth was 13 times the median net worth of blacks — we look for every other possible explanation and refuse to confront the ways that racism explains a lot of the disparity.

Americans’ tendency to not address an obvious cause of so much inequality and strife dooms us to repeat the same cycle of racial conflict and even violence over and over again.

Some people might argue that by resurrecting such a hurtful word, President Obama was creating another smokescreen for racial issues.

Instead of talking about healing Charleston, for instance, news programs are devoting airtime to deconstructing the president’s use of this word.

Just one of the many media dissections of the president’s language.

Hopefully, though, the president’s deployment of this term (and his larger argument for having deeper discussions about how to reduce racial inequality) will sink in because of the shock of having him speak so bluntly about the issue.

If by next week, we are talking about actual structural inequality and not about the fact that President Obama said the N-word (to be clear, the current debate about the Confederate flag is an important one but a symbolic issue), then perhaps we can give him credit for having started a meaningful dialogue about race.

Andra Gillespie is Associate Professor of Political Science at Emory University and author of The New Black Politician: Cory Booker, Newark, and Post-Racial America (NYU Press, 2012).

[This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.]