Note: In this piece, I draw mainly from my experience in the Democratic Socialists of America, which I joined in 2018 and which I intend to make my political home for as long as it will have me. However, I believe that the issues discussed here are not only present in DSA, but are endemic throughout the American left. Therefore I hope it will be of some use to you even if you organize outside of DSA.)
Statues of Martin Luther King Jr. and Thich Nhat Hanh stand together in the Beloved Community Garden of Magnolia Grove Monastery in Batesville, Mississippi.
You don’t need me to tell you that we have a communication problem on the left. For people constantly reminding ourselves to approach one another in good faith, we do remarkably little of it. As soon as a conflict kicks off, it doesn’t take long at all for it to devolve into a carousel of insults, wisecracks, and accusations of any number of ulterior motives. And when it isn’t scorchingly direct, it’s excruciatingly mealy-mouthed. We will admonish people we yet refuse to name, leaving others to deduce from context clues the very targets of our excoriation, which is otherwise publicly available. Intra-left dispute follows such a predictable pattern that you could set a watch by it.
These tendencies are hardly new. The socialist movement has, since its inception, been marred with internal strife, warranted or otherwise. From petty conflicts to catastrophic splits, the left’s history is that of disunity. In this country today, that manifests in the ephemeral and fragmented American left, where distrust flows like water. Organizations emerge and dissolve in no time at all. Bonds are difficult to form and easy to break. Irreverence has become a virtue, and much viciousness is given fair play in the name of subverting conventional norms of political communication.
This set of norms, which we have scorned as “civility politics,” was rightfully rejected. Conservatives and liberals alike have used them to dominate political discourse, belittling radicals by painting us as unserious or immature, and in doing so sneaking their way out of actually engaging with our demands. It’s only natural that those in power enrage us when they use civility as an excuse to ignore the call for a free and just society. But I fear that in taking so readily to anger, we have begun to use it as a crutch, and now too easily misplace it.
The way we talk to and about each other has become cruel, unsustainable, and unstrategic. It has diminished our ability to develop as a movement. We are hemorrhaging talented organizers at an alarming pace, and failing to form the requisite relationships that will carry our labor forward. And to top it all off, there is a broad refusal among the left to see this as a real and pressing issue.
Some might attempt to deploy the anti-civility politics rhetoric against me or anyone who agrees with me. To accuse us of using the same wickedness as the evangelizing conservatives and the scold-happy liberals. But the difference between us and them is that our concern is far from frivolous. We believe that the way we treat one another isn’t a tertiary or even secondary matter. Rather, it is of fundamental importance to our movement and must absolutely be sorted out if we are to go any further, for it determines our expectation of ourselves.
Others might argue, in a similar vein, that by focusing on our poor communication, we distract from the “real” issues that plague political spaces across America: namely, harm, discrimination, and abuse. I agree that these forces are undeniably present in our community and that we must name and neutralize them wherever they appear. Yet, I disagree that to be concerned with communication distracts us from addressing acts of egregious harm. In fact, I believe these are linked phenomena. They sit together on a spectrum of misbehavior. Poor communication and lack of conflict resolution skills lie on one extreme; harm and abuse lie on the other. But these behaviors share a common root, which is a failure by one party to treat another with dignity—in the words of the Combahee River Collective, to recognize the other as “human, levelly human.” Developing capacity to address one of these behaviors develops capacity to address them all.
Think about it this way. How can we trust each other to take harm and abuse seriously if we cannot even trust ourselves to take each other seriously? To tackle those issues in our organizations arising from racism, misogyny, transphobia, or any other prejudice will demand patience, grace, and discipline. These are muscles as yet underdeveloped in many American socialists, as they are underdeveloped among Americans more broadly. We must cultivate the necessary emotional intelligence to shelter one another from the worst aspects of society and ourselves. We need good, rich soil in order to grow—not this parched ground that has constituted our culture until now.
The reason this is absolutely necessary, and not merely beneficial, is because we are engaged in a multi-generational struggle. Not lifelong, but multi-generational, as I believe the project of implementing American socialism will outlive us all, as it outlived our forebears. Our job is to utilize what little time is allotted to us in order to advance the movement, and to do so without forsaking our other commitments, such as to our family and friends. To do this, we must have utter confidence in one another. If we’re going to fight for someone we don’t know, as a kind old man once asked us to do, we better start by fighting for the people we do know.
We do this by building an intentional organizational culture. What we have now is certainly a culture, but it’s hardly intentional. Instead, it is the kind of culture that spawns wildly, lacking a gardener’s guiding hand. It grows in directions it shouldn’t, takes roots in nutriments it shouldn’t, and bears bitter fruit. As it stands now, ours is a culture where the loudest, angriest voices dominate. We have confused decibels as a measure of righteousness. In the midst of friendly fire, we have forgotten to leave any room for mercy, which greases the wheel of all human growth.
To diagnose our ailment, we need to examine how we came together in the first place to constitute this loosely-defined group known as the left. As for me, I was radicalized by learning about the Haymarket Affair in school. That knowledge catalyzed my experiences growing up in a city defined by inequality and in an immigrant family that struggled under racial capitalism, yet was complicit in it in certain ways. I was mobilized, as I wager most leftists of my generation were, by political events which occurred in my adolescence: among them the Bernie 2016 campaign, the Dakota Access Pipeline protests, and the epidemic of extrajudicial killings of Black youth and young adults which continues to the present day. I came to fuel myself with hatred for those responsible for the misery I witnessed around me. Hatred for the wealthy, for politicians, for law enforcement, and for everybody who carried water for these corrupt institutions. It was this hatred that propelled me to inaugurate myself as a socialist and abolitionist. My path, I’d like to imagine, resembles those that brought the rest of you into the fold. That’s partly reassuring, but I’m afraid it’s also part of the problem.
I believe that today’s left has come to be bound more by hatred than love. Our shared contempt for the ruling class coheres us much more than any sense of mutual affinity. This is untenable. While hatred is an excellent motivator, it burns too quickly. It’s fuel-inefficient. Hatred is a destructive force, while love is a generative force. Hatred cannot build like love can, and our job is to build. Like Ruth Wilson Gilmore wrote: “Abolition is about presence, not absence. It’s about building life-affirming institutions.” I believe this statement applies broadly to all sectors of the left. I honestly believe that we must love one another in order to complete our mission. That doesn’t mean we need to like each other or be friends. I mean only that we must learn to recognize in each other an aspect of ourselves. To interpret the joy and suffering of others as an extension of our own. To never again treat another person as a means to an end, but as an end unto themselves.
What if we established an organizational culture that recognized the centrality of our task to the future of humankind? What if it were rooted in our better nature rather than our worst proclivities? What if it served us rather than subordinated us? In simple terms, what if it were worthy of us? I believe it is perfectly within our power to build that culture. We can begin by conceding that the way we talk to and about each other actually matters, and use that as a foundation for the rest.
There are any number of blueprints we can turn to in the culture-building project. As a religious socialist, I’m inclined to look back on the vast history of faith-based activism for inspiration. That is not to say our approach should be faith-based, of course—only that we have something to learn from faith leaders of the past who succeeded in mobilizing the masses for social change. Specifically, I am thinking of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and the Venerable Thich Nhat Hanh.
As contemporaries, they believed in the potential for what Dr. King knew as the Beloved Community. This community, incorporating all humankind, would be founded on agape love—an unconditional and sacrificial kind of love. Neither he nor Thay lived to see their vision brought to life, and chances are, neither will we. But at the very least, we can attempt to model the Beloved Community within the left. Let us begin by reconfiguring our approaches to conflict and communication. For the former, I ask that we look to Dr. King’s Six Steps of Nonviolent Social Change as a guide for resolving conflict:
Information Gathering — To understand and articulate an issue, problem or injustice facing a person, community, or institution you must do research. You must investigate and gather all vital information from all sides of the argument or issue so as to increase your understanding of the problem. You must become an expert on your opponent’s position.
Education — It is essential to inform others, including your opposition, about your issue. This minimizes misunderstandings and gains you support and sympathy.
Personal Commitment — Daily check and affirm your faith in the philosophy and methods of nonviolence. Eliminate hidden motives and prepare yourself to accept suffering, if necessary, in your work for justice.
Negotiation — Using grace, humor and intelligence, confront the other party with a list of injustices and a plan for addressing and resolving these injustices. Look for what is positive in every action and statement the opposition makes. Do not seek to humiliate the opponent but to call forth the good in the opponent.
Direct Action — These are actions taken when the opponent is unwilling to enter into, or remain in, discussion/negotiation. These actions impose a “creative tension” into the conflict, supplying moral pressure on your opponent to work with you in resolving the injustice.
Reconciliation — Nonviolence seeks friendship and understanding with the opponent. Nonviolence does not seek to defeat the opponent. Nonviolence is directed against evil systems, forces, oppressive policies, unjust acts, but not against persons. Through reasoned compromise, both sides resolve the injustice with a plan of action. Each act of reconciliation is one step close to the ‘Beloved Community.’
And for the latter, let us learn from the Fourth Mindfulness Training, one of a set of non-sectarian guidelines developed by Thich Nhat Hanh and rooted in Buddhism’s Five Precepts:
Aware of the suffering caused by unmindful speech and the inability to listen to others, I am committed to cultivating loving speech and compassionate listening in order to relieve suffering and to promote reconciliation and peace in myself and among other people, ethnic and religious groups, and nations. Knowing that words can create happiness or suffering, I am committed to speaking truthfully using words that inspire confidence, joy, and hope. When anger is manifesting in me, I am determined not to speak. I will practice mindful breathing and walking in order to recognize and to look deeply into my anger. I know that the roots of anger can be found in my wrong perceptions and lack of understanding of the suffering in myself and in the other person. I will speak and listen in a way that can help myself and the other person to transform suffering and see the way out of difficult situations. I am determined not to spread news that I do not know to be certain and not to utter words that can cause division or discord. I will practice Right Diligence to nourish my capacity for understanding, love, joy, and inclusiveness, and gradually transform anger, violence, and fear that lie deep in my consciousness.
Their dream of the Beloved Community may seem utopian, but the practices they laid before us are entirely actionable. They were fashioned by human minds for use by human hands. With them, I believe we can build an ecumenical, reconciliatory socialist movement. More than a big tent which merely accommodates differences, may we fashion a structure that synthesizes them into something new. Naturally, not every difference may be reconciled, but it is our duty to make an earnest attempt on every single one. Such is the practice of love, which—as Thay and bell hooks agreed—is of immense political utility.
I believe we need solidarity, and that to build real solidarity, we need a beloved community. When we think of solidarity, we tend to imagine a closed fist. But we should remember that solidarity only presents as a fist to its enemies. To its friends, it is an open hand.
Thanks for reading. I’ll see you again soon. For now, let me leave you with this quote from the unconquerable George Jackson:
“Settle your quarrels, come together, understand the reality of our situation, understand that fascism is already here, that people are already dying who could be saved, that generations more will live poor butchered half-lives if you fail to act. Do what must be done, discover your humanity and your love in revolution.”
Image credit:
By Ty Zhang - Own work, Public Domain.