Teen Spirit, Protest Theater, and Participatory Democracy

In a column called Grand Theft Politics, Joshua Glenn reviews Dream: Reimagining Progressive Politics in an Age of Fantasy, by Stephen Duncombe. If you can ignore obnoxious references to Nietzche's Birth of Tragedy, it's a really interesting article all about the Democratic Party's (next to non-existent) relationship to culture, and what a new participatory politics might look like.

On the relationship to culture (and what that means for our politics):

After Reagan's re-election, the Democratic Leadership Council was formed to unburden the Democrats of their '60s-style ideological baggage. The New Democrats borrowed planks from the Republican platform and eschewed Dionysian spectacles like large peace rallies in favor of studying, lobbying, and regulating. Throughout the 1990s, Apollonian progressive figures such as Joe Lieberman and Tipper Gore tut-tutted about rap music, violent video games, and action movies without pausing to reflect on why suburban middle-class youth might enjoy those phenomena. Our leaders seemed out of touch, even inhuman.

I think this is on point. I've just started re-reading Dispatches from the Culture Wars: How the Left Lost Teen Spirit. It's an account of how Democrats lost their connection to culture in the 80s and 90s, and the consequences of that loss for the party. Written by Danny Goldberg, a music executive (Nirvana) and political activist (ACLU), it's a pretty amazing story that I highly recommend. When the MFA gang was getting together, this book was a pretty big part of our initial thinking. In it, Goldberg makes similar points to Glenn. Allow me to cram 6 pages into 2 paragraphs:

This isn't exactly a culture war so much as a disconnect between the progressive political leaders and the culture of the people they want to lead . . . the insulated consultants and pundits who have enormous influence . . . and . . . are much more tuned in to other mavens in Washginton than what Americans are really thinking.
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It's not just the loss of younger voters that should concern Democrats, it's the loss of youthful energy and innovation -- the loss of teen spirit, embodied in a popular culture that almost inevitably is created by the young and then spreads . . . it is impossible to imagine the civil rights movement, the labor movement, the protests against the Vietnam War, the environmental movement, the women's movement, and the struggle for gay and lesbian rights without the powerful catalyst provided by the energy and inspiration of the young and their popular culture. The Democratic Party and the left will either heed that message or find themselves doomed to more decades of cultural victories and political defeats.

Based on the Slate article, Duncombe, holds similar views, as well as some interesting thoughts on how the Democrats might recover that Teen Spirit:

If progressives ever want to set the national agenda, Duncombe insists, they must embrace what he calls dreampolitik, a politics that "embraces the dreams of people and fashions spectacles which give these fantasies form." With the exception of street activists at the far fringes—he praises Billionaires for Bush, Critical Mass, and Reverend Billy and the Church of Stop Shopping—progressives remain convinced that "their sense of superior seriousness will win debates, convince the public, and lead them back into the halls of power." Talk about fantasy! Witness the last presidential race, when stagecrafted spectacles that associated President Bush with military prowess trumped the sober-sided efforts of John Kerry to win debates and votes.
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The people who built the New Deal and led the civil rights struggle are now engaging in old-fashioned, top-down political practices. These days, whether you attend a rally, sign a petition, or forward a MoveOn e-mail, it can be a disempowering experience. Duncombe is not contemptuous of the traditional anti-war demonstrations against Iraq, but, he argues, obscured within these and other well-intended political actions is "a philosophy of passive political spectatorship: they organize, we come; they talk, we listen."
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Duncombe's answer is something he calls the "ethical spectacle." Unlike the unethical kind of spectacle, which conceals a rotten state of affairs, and which demands passivity and acquiescence from spectators, an ethical spectacle promotes progressive ideals of egalitarianism and inclusivity. It models at the level of form what progressive politicians promise in the content of their speeches: demonstrating the ideals of its participants, none of whom are relegated to the role of sign-toting spectator.

It's an interesting theory. For years now, based on my own personal experiences with the movement, I've come to dislike protest politics. Mostly that dislike is based on a feeling that protests accomplish little, but my assumption has always been that they are a fully participatory element of our political process. Maybe that's not true - at least in terms of large scale protests of the kind created by ANSWER and UFPJ (certainly not for MoveOn, whose members votes help steer the course of the organization). It seems like that's what Duncombe is suggesting.

On the whole, though, I don't buy it. I don't see too much difference between someone who marches or attends a protest and brings a sign vs. the Billionaires. To be sure, there is a difference in commitment and creativity and product, but not in the underlying substance and meaning of the act.

We can all agree that myth-making is important, and its something that the Right has used to their own advantage spectacularly. Fred offers up a good myth of our own that the Left should be promoting to unify our coalition and explain our values to the country. But at the end of the day, spectacle requires both a viewer and viewed. Their is passivity built into that system as well.

Manufacturing new spectacles that exemplify our values, but which are always outside and apart from real life, does not offer a longterm, sustainable solution to the loss of teen spirit, the (still) broadcast nature of our politics, or the Left's lack of cultural relevance. Rather, we need to work to change the institutions that have real social capital, and use them as an outlet and power base for our political goals and values. That's why organizations like Living Liberally are so important. Rather than manufacture a spectacle out of whole cloth - one that is forever ghettoized in the minds of Americans to a non-normal act of "protest" or "political theater," we need to reawaken the political awareness of social and cultural institutions that are common place, everyday, and woven deeply into the fabric of the lives of Americans.

Doing that - at concerts, at bars, through comedy and film and YouTube and MySpace - is what will make our politics more participatory. To be truly successful, it will require an abandonment on the part of Democrats of their endless disavowal of pop culture (all while hypocritically taking the money of cultural icons). If Democrats embrace that, they will go a long way toward reclaiming that teen spirit they lost so many decades ago, and maybe we'll see a truly participatory model of politics and governance emerge from within the party.

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Party Spirit Means Party People

I think the real issue with the Billionaires is not that they were spectacular. This isn’t in and of itself a bad thing. Bands are spectacular too. The question of spectation vs participation has to be taken in a more broad timespan, e.g. yes I sit and watch a band one night, but the next night I’m leading a workshop or working on a remix or having a really lively club meeting, etc.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. The problem with protest politics is threefold, I believe:

  • It remains ineffective against a government that isn’t listening, although I do believe that with the issue of the war congress could possibly be prompted to be more proactive by the right kind of protest, and/or that public anti-war consensus could be further consolidated through the right kind of mass action.

  • More germane to this discussion, protest doesn’t represent a “culture” in and of itself. It tends to be a reactive event with a reactive message, and it only has any lasting cultural relevance when it’s woven into a larger narrative. Seattle 1999 was like that for a lot of people I know. NYC (and everywhere else) in Feb 2003, not so much.

  • Most importantly, as you point out, these things have a 0% chance of impacting the “loss of spirit” among the political leadership when it doesn’t contain any elements of that leadership. Until the actual individuals in leadership positions begin to open up a bit more to express a culturally informed and relevant point of view, it’s all water under the bridge as far as the Party’s “Teen Spirit” is concerned. I would point to Gore’s movie as an example of how individuals from the leadership can change their tone and manner of presentation and strike a culturally resonant chord.

In the end I think we need to connect both the spectacular and the social to truly create a culture of participatory politics. Events and organizations that build social capital (e.g. Living Liberally) provide the means for participation, but culture is also about narratives and stories. Where does the content come from? I’m not saying that protest orgs or political street theater are the answer to that part of the equation, but they can be a part of it.

The narrative

You are right about the narrative. It’s an important part of all of this, but I still wonder about protest/spectacle as a viable vehicle for that narrative.

When support for the war was at its zenith, we still saw some of the most massive demonstrations in the history of this country. Now popular support has turned against the war and we have a democratic congress elected out of frustration with Republican policies. Yet still the mainstream narratives remain unchanged (by and large, with some tinkering around the edges). Still congress is barely scraping up the gumption to make a token gesture of trying to stop the war.

Maybe I have protest fatigue and am just sick of banging my head up against this problem. Maybe I buy into Bower’s idea that there is no possible way to stop the war before the end of Bush’s term.

With MFA, we didn’t have huge massive protest concerts - the only massive protest concert that did happen, Vote for Change - engendered a huge backlash. But it’s fashionable and non-career threatening nowadays for musicians to be political. I like to think that we had a pretty big part in that (more so than Springstein or the Dixie Chicks). We did that not by spectacle, but by changing the whole ecology/environment in which artists operate. More specifically, Dan did it through thousands of phone calls with artists, good word of mouth, and us actually showing up 9 times out of 10 to deliver on MFA’s promises. Small events that accumulated into a change within entire music scenes.

A new narrative about music and politics, culture and the youth vote, flowed from that.

The one “mass culture” moment that I’ll grant was Eminem’s Mosh - but that’s more akin to Gore’s work than it is to what UFPJ does on the streets.

I’m not against other forms of direct action, or maybe even protest of other things. But as an anti-war vehicle, I just don’t see it anymore.

Or maybe I’m just looking for something smaller, more pragmatic, and more likely to provoke geometric change over a short time. I don’t want to protest the war anymore, I want to work on Election Day Registration in all 50 states. Something like that would bump up young voter turnout by 10-11% across the board. With the trends we’re seeing now, that would go a long way towards ending this current war and preventing future catastrophes. More so than all of us getting in the streets to (end the war, free palestine, free mumia, suppor t the socialist workers party, end racism, dance, hold up clever signs) ever will.

UFPJ isn't the model

I completely grant you that the current state of anti-war protest is ineffective, and that it’s clearly not going to change Bush’s mind. I just don’t think that means that protest in and of itself is a dead letter. I think the semi-spontaneous pro-immigration protests of last year were much more effective, for instance.

Also, spectacular events (which all concerts are, even when they’re not in arenas) are a critical part of building narratives within a civilization.

The work of activists may not to be to create those events themselves. Lobbying artists — which is one thing MFA did very effectively — is a good tactic.

spectacle

Agreed that other forms of protest can be and are effective. But for this particular issue, (which seems to be one of the only issues protested in any mass number in recent years), it’s a dead end. Your point about the immigration protests is somewhat well taken. They raised awareness and energized some organizations, and probably radicalized some people. They may have even contributed to the youth bump among latino voters, but overall immigrant voter registrations failed to materialize, comprehensive reform did not occur, and some bad legislation was still passed in their wake. And subsequent attempts to organize and repeat those demonstrations have been anemic at best.

I will agree that protests can be good for building that narrative - which is important - but they are still very much an indirect agent of change.

W/r/t any show being a spectacle - we’re getting into semantics and probably some underlying philosophy here, but practically speaking, it only makes sense to me to apply spectacle to something out of the ordinary, extraordinary. A smallish concert (say the Bowery Ballroom or Irving Plaza), and one that would have already occured absent a political event, does not qualify. (Thus disqualifying about 2,300 of the shows MFA was part of).

These are normal occurrences, not spectacle. In some ways, with repetition, I think that is more powerful.

terminology

but overall immigrant voter registrations failed to materialize, comprehensive reform did not occur, and some bad legislation was still passed in their wake.

I think the major achievement was in derailing some truly awful legislation — something Bush (to his credit) probably wouldn’t have done, but the 109th congress seemed to be headed towards doing.

As for the issue of a spectacle, we are probably wading into the reeds of semantics. I think what I was keying off wasn’t necessarily the idea of “spectacular” events, but rather things which require spectators: non-participatory events like acts of political theater or concerts of any size.

I definitely agree on the power/necessity of repetition.

I’ve really enjoyed

I’ve really enjoyed reading the back and forth here. Mike invited me to add in my thoughts so here are some early, somewhat bleary, AM ones:

I, too, am disenchanted/dissapointed by most “mass” demonstrations — both for reasons of efficacy and the shear boredom factor (which are, of course, interrelated) I’ve attended hundreds and organized dozens (my first movement job back when I was 17 was working for Leslie Cagan, now of UFPJ) yet I find myself making excuses for why I can’t go to the latest demo. In fact, it might be that the only thing that bonds together a certain generation of activists is our disdain for the standard street demo.

In any case, the simple point I want to make is this: that we take seriously the word “demonstrate” and always consider what it is that we are demonstrating to the world and to ourselves through the form of our protest . A typical mass march: planned and policed route, long, slow walk, standard boring chants, stop and “rally” to listen to speakers on the dais tell us what we already know, and then, maybe a “CD” in a CD area, with the final image being walked off to the police wagon with arms handcuffed behind. What does this demonstrate? In the name of “people’s power” we’ve demonstrated our unimaginitive impotence.

This is what we were trying to get around with Reclaim the Streets and Billionaires for Bush. With the former we were attempting to stage truly participatory spectacles (Yes Mike, semantics aside, I do think it’s possible—and essential, but you’ll have to read [[http://www.dreampolitik.com|DREAM]] to find out how, ha!). With the latter we were trying to use irony and transparent performance in order to demonstrate what we were not — thus leaving open the positive moment to be filled in. These were just stabs at defining a different political aesthetic but I think they were moves in the right direction.

Thanks, Stephen

Stephen,

Thanks for taking the time to join the conversation here. On this, we are apparently very much in agreement:

.A typical mass march: planned and policed route, long, slow walk, standard boring chants, stop and “rally” to listen to speakers on the dais tell us what we already know, and then, maybe a “CD” in a CD area, with the final image being walked off to the police wagon with arms handcuffed behind. What does this demonstrate? In the name of “people’s power” we’ve demonstrated our unimaginitive impotence.

In that light, I can see how you differentiate between the Billionaires and more standard protest. I can live with that distinction.

I’m going to stick to my guns though (at least until I’ve read your book) and say that while I certainly appreciate and admire what the Billionaires and other similar groups are trying to do, at the end of the dayy it doesn’t totally cut it for me. I’d still prefer Drinking Liberally or the small concert with a solid political message or component. I still feel much more of a participant and a conscious member of a community from those events, and ultimately I think they add up to something more effective.

I’m not discounting what you are saying or what groups like the Billionaires do. As Josh says, these can be powerful things in developing an alternative narrative, and that story is an equally important element to any movement. But I’d rather put my effort and time into those other activities I’ve listed.

I will def. check out the book. Thanks for stopping in (and sorry if I mangled your premise in my blog post).

Duncombe!

I for one am honored to see your comment here. My friend and comrade Frank Robbins (who took a class of yrs) got me to come see your presentation of Blade Runner at the Cantor film center. Good stuff. I’ve been a fan ever since.

More fanboy adulation

I just started “Dream”, and am loving it. There’s a Baudrillardian aspect to Bush that I’ve been harping on for years (often when inebriated) and it’s a pleasure to see that line expounded upon. The only other article I’ve read along that line is [[http://www.ctheory.net/articles.aspx?id=427|this gem]] entitled “George W. Bush as Presidential Simulacrum”. If you haven’t read it, it’s a hoot.

Stephen, nice to see you around here. Hope you’ll stay a while.