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The Merits and Limitations of Peaceful
Protest
By Gerasimos
Karavitis
The recent RNC related demonstrations invite us to revisit the question
of whether it is strategically preferable for the political Left in
the United States to continue staging entirely peaceful protests.
Obviously, the merits of the peaceful mode of protest are many, too
many to list in an article of this size. Nonetheless, three stand out
from a purely tactical perspective. First, a peaceful protest is likely
to draw a greater number of people than its violent counterpart would,
since the likelihood of sustaining a physical injury while participating
in it is relatively low. On the one hand, the potential for gathering
a larger crowd means that a greater number of people can be politically
socialized while attending the protest. And while it is true that the
people who attend the Left’s protests have—more often than
not—already been socialized to support its political agenda, their
participation in a protest makes them aware of the fact that they are
not alone, and thus deepens and strengthens their convictions.
On the other hand, the potential to draw a larger crowd can translate
into outcomes easily interpreted as political victories. Consider the
following. If the number of people marching in the August 29th protest
had been twice as large as what it actually was, then the official decree
that prohibited the protesters from entering Central Park en masse after
the march, and the police barricades that constrained the march within
a predetermined course would be de facto nullified: the number of people
at the protest would simply be too great for the police to enforce the
aforementioned constraints at a low political cost to the city’s
authorities.
Secondly, though peaceful protest is not the morally superior mode of
protest by definition, it is represented as such in American public
discourse, and, presumably, perceived as such by most Americans. Morality
is a word that the careful observer of life looks upon with vigorous
suspicion, because what is moral is—more often than not—difficult
to determine. However, despite its theoretical elusiveness, morality’s
political use is an undeniable fact: representations of good and evil
are careful considered by all political factions, because all political
factions recognize that by associating themselves with the most commonly
espoused representations of good, and by disassociating themselves from
the most commonly espoused representations of evil they increase their
capacity to recruit new supporters and consolidating the convictions
of their existing ones. When the Left employs the peaceful mode of protest,
it invests itself wisely in the conquest of moral terrain.
Thirdly, a peaceful protest permits for the bottom-up socialization
of the police officer by the protesting masses. Many activists view
the police officer as an automaton, a robotic organ of a headless system,
a being incapable of receiving messages from anyone other then his or
her superiors in the institution he or she serves. This perception is
not totally groundless. It reflects the type of subject that the figures
with decisionmaking authority in policing institutions wish to construct,
and often succeed in constructing, as the continuum of inhumane acts
perpetrated by police officers suffices to show. However, the figure
of the sadistic robo-cop is generalized at the risk of facilitating
the production of sadistic robo-cops. The fact of the matter is that
humane police officers who look beyond the strictures of their institutions
and follow their own understanding do exist, and it is of central importance
to the Left that these individuals are not alienated. Such alienation
is likely to be effected, if individuals of this type are subjected
to acts of violence during political protests, or if they come to feel
that the uniform they wear is desecrated.
In addition to its merits, the peaceful mode of protest has some serious
limitations. First, it does not directly question structures of political
authority, or the institutions which underlie configurations of power
is a society. Those of us who marched in the spaces designated by the
city authorities gave our tacit consent to the status quo relation between
state and society in this country. In so far as this status quo helps
people like the President and his wanton entourage to kill, steal, and
lie with impunity, we fell prey to an important contradiction, as we
failed to confront what is perhaps the most significant set of forces
behind the unjust political outcomes we profess to oppose. I do not
wish to imply here that the Left could deal these forces a blow through
any repertoire of vandalism or violence, but only to illuminate the
fact that it cannot do so through peaceful protest.
Secondly, contrary to what recent appearances of the movement might
suggest, the marches staged in the past few years have not yet amounted
to the formation of a counterhegemonic block. I sense that an effort
is being made to transform the Left’s variegated mass into a more
coherent and empowered whole, but no counterhegemonic block worthy of
the name can be said to exist in the US today. The existence of a counterhegemonic
block requires the existence of a unitary political imaginary among
the overwhelming majority of critical factions, a unity which in turn
requires the existence of a discourse that is extensive and penetrating
enough to confront the hegemonic discourse which hypostatizes—albeit
in different forms and degrees—both the Republican and the Democratic
party’s political agendas. We can begin to speak of the formation
of a counterhegemonic block only when we begin to see the multitudes
of protesters acting as a united front, and not as a large set of units,
seemingly united, but actually fragmented in the face of a status quo
that is protected by both of the major parties.
Finally, there is an ecological issue with regard to the peaceful protest,
one that is not often discussed. Looking at the photos shown by the
large New York newspapers, I was both impressed by the sight of the
recent protests and disturbed by how much paper we wasted in the construction
of signs—most of which were simply discarded on the streets after
the protest. As ecologically conscious members of society we should
condemn the waste that results during our protests, and seek to minimize
it. Of course, I understand that it is not possible to have a colorful
protest, or any protest for that matter without some waste. But the
movement should invest more energy in devising and employing methods
of protest that are ecologically more conscientious; methods of protest
that utilize the natural resources of the body (e.x. the voice, the
hands, the feet, physical presence itself) in more creative ways, and
for the production of symbolic effects that are superior to those produced
by sign raising. Other than by the force of sheer numbers (which, nonetheless,
denotes only a potential), fear is struck in the ranks of the political
Right and capitalist-state’s engineers of repression by the knowledge
that the political Left has the capacity and the willingness to act
as a united front. Gestures such as locking arms to form enormous human
chains, or the coordination of footsteps in blocks of thousands, or
periods of protracted silence, or the formation of a giant words, or
massive sit-downs would convey this capacity and willingness in ways
that the ecologically unconscionable and highly personalistic practice
of sign raising does not.
For all its problems, the peaceful path alone is currently open to the
American political Left. When certain factions of the anarchist Left
in this country challenge the state’s violence with a violence
of their own, they act to satisfy the commendable itch of a heavy conscience,
the peculiar neurosis of infantile militancy, and the condemnable desire
for masochistic annihilation, but they do not act with the intent of
winning a victory over injustice. Victory requires good strategy, and
strategy requires a good understanding of capacities. The political
techniques—vandalism and violence—that certain factions
of the American far Left have invested their faith in are useless in
challenging a state that does not run out of time, or money, or resources,
or the political will required to counteract them and to destroy their
agents.
Thus, the leaders of U.F.P.J., A.N.S.W.E.R. and other such organizations
are correct in consistently choosing the peaceful path, despite the
intense feeling of futility that many of their supporters—including
myself—might feel upon the completion of the protests that they
organize. In a country where a realistic and well cultivated understanding
of political violence absents from the popular consciousness, self-control
is the strongest card that the political Left has in its hand. The Left
in the US must challenge its opponents by using the advantages it enjoys
over them (i.e. members who are more willing to act politically, a culture
of higher intelligence and sensitivity, international support), and
by using the weight of the capitalist-state against itself by appealing
to the latter’s human foundations and exposing its moral emptiness.
The progress that accrues from following the peaceful path is incremental,
for sure, and the path as a method tests the individual’s activist’s
capacity to work patiently (with conviction over time) more than his
or her physical valiance (although it can do this as well), but it is
in this commitment to patience that the Left’s new technology
of power resides.
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