Our Tragic Flaw

This is a continuation of my review of Peter Gelderloos' 2007 book, How Nonviolence Protects the State. In the first part, I critiqued the opening chapter of this provocative work, concluding that Gelderloos failed to prove that nonviolence is ineffective (which is the title of the chapter). He depends on the ineffectiveness of nonviolence as the ultimate reason to eschew it, and the rest of his claims--about it being racistist, statist, patriarchal and so on--are built on this foundation. Having failed in establishing this foundation, the rest of his case is significantly weakened.

Now I shall turn to the claims of his second chapter, "Nonviolence Is Racist." It's probably true that some supporters of nonviolence are consciously or unconsciously racist, and that some people of privilege feel more comfortable with nonviolence because they are consciously or unconsciously fearful of compromising their privilege in some way. But Gelderloos paints with a rather broad brush when he suggests that these motives are "inherent" in the nonviolent position.

He writes:

At first, nonviolence seems like a clear moral position that has little to do with race. This view is based on the simplistic assumption that violence is first and foremost something that we choose. But which people in this world have the privilege to choose nonviolence, and which people live in violent circumstances whether they want to or not?

It seems to me that this critique misses the point completely. In the first place, revolutionary nonviolence has a great deal to do with race, to be sure. The violence to which oppressed people have been subject over the millennia demands redress and relief. A nonviolent revolution would, among other things, free the oppressed from oppression, and liberate them at last from being the disproportionate bearers of violence.

More to the point: violence (or nonviolence) is something that we choose. In response to any condition, whether it be violent or peaceful, each of us has the choice to act violently or nonviolently. Nonviolence has never been about choosing to live apart from violent contexts, but specifically about choosing to respond to violent contexts nonviolently.

Gelderloos seems to take aim at a shallow, immature understanding of nonviolence when he supposes that advocates for nonviolence believe that:

Just as criminals deserve repression and punishment, people who use violence deserve the inevitable karmic violent consequences; this is integral to the pacifist position.

Perhaps it's me who doesn't fathom the true meaning of nonviolence, but I don't believe that criminals (or anyone else for that matter) "deserve repression and punishment" or that violent actors "deserve" the consequences--and I certainly don't believe that any of this is "integral" to nonviolence!

Whatever anyone else may say, my position is simply that violence is very costly in terms of suffering. I would counsel against anyone using violence if the costs of doing so are greater than some other means of achieving the goal. And it would be difficult to persuade me that no less costly means could possibly be found. But this is entirely different from saying that anyone deserves to suffer--no one does.

I absolutely honor in each struggle its full right of self-determination, a right I think all of us should exercise. I will not judge people for choosing violence, especially when their circumstances are largely unknown to me. But it is my view that violence, no matter how justified it may seem to those closest to it, always carries with it a tragically high cost. People caught in the high emotions of resistance to overwhelming state violence are likely to see the immediate benefits of choosing violence, but are less likely to take into account the long-term costs (which are almost impossible to calculate even in the best of circumstances).

My function as a privileged, white, male theorist (like Gelderloos) is to leverage my privilege to explore the dynamics of radical struggle, and to use my personal detachment from imminent violence to work out a thoughtful understanding of these dynamics, and engage in dialogues with anyone who wishes to. Of course, this is a completely different role than Subcomandante Marcos plays, or an organizer working in the prisons, ghettos, or in their own communities of color around the world.

I certainly have much to learn from activists on the front lines, especially people of color, the very poor, and the most oppressed. I have no desire to school anyone in how to wage a revolution. But in the end, in an expressive and non-impositional way, it's my responsibility to call it like I see it. What else can I do? So long as this expression is informed by ample humility, compassion and a strong practice of self-reflection, I have no alternative but to "trust my own analysis" (to use Gelderloos' words).

Gelderloos writes:

People who insist on nonviolence among the oppressed, if they are to have any role, end up doing the work of the white supremacist power structure whether they mean to or not.

The argument here is, essentially, that nonviolence is ineffective and it "pacifies" the potentially angry, revolutionary mob--which, of course, is good for the status quo and the elites who benefit therefrom. Gelderloos supports this argument by repeating the charges often made against Martin Luther King by more militant leaders working for racial equality, such as Malcolm X and the Black Panthers, that his nonviolent stance worked against the struggle itself.

This may be true, as a hisorical matter, for all anyone knows. But Gelderloos fails to offer a single shred of evidence--for no such evidence exists--that violence has ever caused oppression or violence to diminish lastingly in the world. Indeed, such a claim would be nonsensical on its surface. And if violence used by radicals cannot solve the problem of violence, will there not always be oppressed people suffering disproportionate violence?

What troubles Gelderloos, I would speculate, is not that nonviolence is about "staying safe, not getting hurt, not alienating anyone, not giving anyone a bitter pill to swallow," but rather that nonviolence of a truly radical kind is not safe, may require the ultimate self-sacrifice, forces one to stand by one's convictions in the purest possible sense, and involves a complete renunciation of all safety nets--including the "safety" of standing behind a loaded gun. Nonviolence is really about walking straight up to the terrible monster (violence), looking him in the eye, and saying to him, "Kill me if you must--but at your own peril--for, you know, truth and history are on our side."

Or, put more poetically: "He who lives by the sword dies by the sword." 

Update on Thursday, May 29, 2008 at 11:23AM by Parke Burgess

This review continues here.