FROM THE FIELD
Vol. 4, No. 3: Fall, 2005
Chalmers Johnson , The Sorrows of Empire (p311-312)
“. . . there can be no doubt that the course on which we are launched will lead us into new versions of the Bay of Pigs and updated, speeded-up replays of Vietnam War scenarios. When such disasters occur, as they—or as-yet-unknown versions of them certainly will, a world disgusted by the betrayal of the idealism associated with the United States will welcome them, just as most people did when the former USSR fell apart. Like other empires of the past century, the United States has chosen to live not prudently, in peace and prosperity, but as a massive military power athwart an angry, resistant globe.
“There is one development that could conceivably stop this process of overreaching: the people could retake control of Congress, reform it along with the corrupted election laws that have made it into a forum for special interests, turn it into a genuine assembly of democratic representatives, and cut off the supply of money to the Pentagon and secret intelligence agencies. We have a strong civil society that could, in theory, overcome the entrenched interests of the armed forces and the military-industrial complex. At this late date, however, it is difficult to imagine how Congress, much like the Roman senate in the last days of the republic, could be brought back to life and cleansed of its endemic corruption. Failing such a reform, Nemesis, the goddess of retribution and vengeance, the punisher of pride and hubris, waits impatiently for her meeting with us.”
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OPEN LETTER RE: NEW ORLEANS
by
Jane Poindexter
For weeks now I have wanted to make a contribution to assist the people of New Orleans. For any number of reasons, the normal avenues did not appeal - the Red Cross, the Salvation Army and, of course, Operation Blessing (Pat Robertson's organization), a group recommended for donations on FEMA's web site (subsequently removed), was, for obvious reasons, out of the goddamn question.
After a great deal of thought, I have come to the conclusion that the best thing for me to do is contribute to a New Orleans based community organization. In other words, I am looking for a group that worked on behalf of the poor people of New Orleans before the hurricane hit.
Profiteers are already flooding the city, looking to make a quick buck on the backs of the poor. Some of them, such as Haliburton and Bechtel, are government profiteers, some are just your every day greedy land developers, strip mall devotees, and others simply your garden variety get-rich-quick-schemers.
The poor, mostly African-American evacuees will not be able to afford to live in a rebuilt New Orleans . In fact, history tells us that their representation in the planning process will be token at best and low income housing will be virtually non-existent. This cannot be allowed to happen. I, for one, do not want to see New Orleans rebuilt for the rich, the casinos, or the chemical and oil companies.
In my wish to support a local community organization, I made several phone calls to the States. I have made a decision to contribute to the People's Hurricane Relief Fund and Reconstruction Project, a coalition of 45 New Orleans based grassroots organizations. Information about this effort can be found on the internet - simply google the name of the organization. Donations can be made through the Vanguard Public Foundation. To go to their website, just click HERE.
You can also go to San Francisco Bay View and look under the heading "Trustworthy Grass Roots Relief Groups" for suggestions of local community organizations. I called the San Francisco Bay View, a newspaper dedicated to presenting the views of African Americans not found in the traditional media and was told that all their recommendations have been researched to ensure the legitimacy of the groups recommended.
My request is not that you support the above groups. What I am asking is that you join me in supporting grass roots efforts. Pick your own. The government has already issued more than 50 no-bid contracts and is allowing these companies to lower the wages for their workers, stating that since it is an emergency, the companies do not have to pay the standard hourly wage. Have they capped profits? That's, obviously, a rhetorical question. Who's looting now? Another rhetorical question.
This disaster does not end with the relocation of the residents. It does not end when children are registered in schools. The struggle of and for the displaced, the uprooted, will continue for years to come. If we are lucky, this struggle just may spread to every other American city which, after a disaster, would post the same images of poor, mostly Black people on your television screen.
The images we have seen are not endemic to New Orleans . They exist in your home town.
I hope you will help.
Thanks.
Jane Poindexter
P.S. If you have a computer in your home, I suggest listening to "Democracy Now!," hosted by Amy Goodman and Juan Gonzalez. This program is broadcast Monday through Friday, and can be accessed any time of day at www.democracynow.org.
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AN ARAB TALE FOR TODAY
An old Arab lived close to New York City for more than 40 years. One day he decided he would love to plant potatoes and herbs in his garden, but he knew that he was alone and too old and weak.
His son was in college in Paris , so the old man sent him an email explaining the problem:
“Beloved son, I am very sad because I can't plant potatoes in my garden. I am sure, if only you were here, that you would help me and dig up the garden for me. I love you, your father.”
The following day, the old man received a response email from his son:
”Beloved father, please don't touch the garden. That is where I've hidden ‘the THING'. I love you, too, Ahmed.”
At 4pm the U.S.Army, the Marines, the FBI, the CIA, the NSA, the OHS, and the Rangers visited the house of the old man and took the whole garden apart, searching every inch. But they couldn't find anything. Disappointed, they left the house.
The next day, the old man received another email from his son:
“Beloved father, I hope the garden is dug up by now and you can plant your potatoes. That is all I could do for you from here. Your loving son, Ahmed.”
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Oba, Dafina and Family
(from left to right: Itara, Myra , Siyanda, Askalae, Oba, Kaylah, Dafina, Tesfa)
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The Publication of “Oba's Story”
“Oba's Story: Rastafari, Purification and Power” by George Colman has now been published by Africa World Press. The following comments are taken from the book's jacket.
“Oba's Story” tells of the life, religious development and work for justice of a Rastafarian on the island of St.Vincent in the Caribbean . He was born Richard Jacobs in 1948, a brown West Indian subject of the British Empire but he became Ras Oba Chatoyer, a black African-in-exile, a leader in the Rastafarian community and a political radical. The book follows the dramatic changes in Oba's life and thought and places them in the broader context of anti-colonial movements, the emergence and growth of Rastafarians in St.Vincent and the dynamics of social and economic justice in the islands of the eastern Caribbean .
“George D.Colman's presentation of Oba's Story is an engaging social history of the peoples of St.Vincent and their connection to the rest of the English-speaking Caribbean community. Oba's life, work and words personalize a complex political and social history and provide valuable insights into Rastafarian convictions on the critical issues of gender, social equality and political struggle. This highly readable book would be a welcome addition to anyone's library.”
----Michael James Higgins, Emeritus Professor Anthropology, University of Northern Colorado . Visiting Scholar at Centro de Investigaciones y Estudios Superiores en Antropologia Social de Oaxaca, Mexico .
“George Colman is clear, graceful and steady as he adroitly weaves Oba's personal story with its generative social, political, economic, spiritual, revolutionary and pan-Africanist contexts. As a white ally, and without hype or apology, Colman lets Oba's humanity, dignity, and passion carry themselves while he provides just the right facts and perspectives. Eye-opening and quietly-explosive, this book is an amazing labor of scholarship and love.”
----Akasha Gloria Hull, Writer and Professor, University of California , Santa Cruz
“Oba's Story” can be ordered three ways: directly from Africa World Press at #609-695-3200, from Amazon.com, or through a book store.
That's Michele in the middle.
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TWO POEMS FOR “LOS MUERTOS”
( In Mexico , this is the season when the ancestral and familial dead are remembered; and when they live again. Ed.)
LJUELLE, COMPANERO
By
Ana Clarissa Rojas Durazo
(para Lino Antonio Almaraz), el ascendido compañero de Loxicha , Oaxaca )
no te concoí
pero si te conozco
tus palabras nunca las escuché
pero tus cantares invoco
de foto no te podré identificar
pero sin duda tu rostro es conocido
taana
hermano
eres
tejido tenaz
de la tierra
cimiento y vispera del terso
amanacer
zapoteco
distée
eres
y cae sobre este mundo
el breve suspiro de tu alma
hasta el capullo ardiente de la llamarada
lleva el destino marcado
y tu
lumbre fuerte
a raiz de las contumbres
un modo de ser
atropezado
por este un mundo perdido
el llamado nuevo desde la gran e inolvidable
violación gachupín
hasta la recién e imperdonable
vilación murat
y tu
aluvión del ayer
y de mañana
brotando justicia
en alas de libertad
consagrando el amor
de hijas, hijos, loxicha
soberania se alcanzará
y tu
mátir de medianoche
te entregas
por luu gáa rena
semilla al vientre
del terruño
ofrendas y restos sosteñ
almimento diurno
de la lucha
y tu
mano
a mano
avenzas
junto al pueblo
mariposa de índigo
guia
en los montes
sempiternos
y sollozo ante el pueblo que lamenta perderte
y reclamo ante el mexico que niego tenerte
Lino Antonio
No te concocí
Pero sí te conozco
En el cieloañil se grabaron tus sueños
Y la noche iluminadora enciende tareas
pa'que surja el aguacero de su realidad
gracias compañero
ioskxhi
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por luu gáa rena: por ti he de morir
Ana Clarissa Rojas Durazo
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POEM ON RECEIVING NEWS OF TWO MORE FRIENDS GONE
By
Michele Gibbs
Strange
To watch the passing of a generation,
Especially when it's your own;
To be left
Standing in a landscape
Littered with bodies
Communing with ghosts.
I did not ask to be spared;
Nor did they to be taken.
It happened singly,
The best among us, stricken.
Not all at once, like a ‘sunami'
Grabbing the world's attention.
A quiet disaster, this attrition;
All the more so with their voices absent.
Revolutionaries, poets, musicians
Heralding the way ahead:
All dead.
And while the children keep coming
They, too, are falling –
From police bullets, official executions,
o.d.'s, HIV/AIDS,
ignorance, road rage –
at a faster rate than we:
bewildered branches of a hacked tree
that the nation they inhabit refuses to see.
When the floodtide is high
As in New Orleans
A new millenium's generation
Finds out what it means
To sing the “Backwater Blues.”
While Barbara Bush,
The President's mother and former ‘First Lady'
Surveying the damage
Is satisfied to say:
“They were underprivileged, anyway.”
So, that means what?
‘They're used to it; it's okay?!'
Now hurricane Rita batters the coast
But disaster prevention
Is out of the question.
Her son says, “I'll send more troops
To restore order
He doesn't mention
Sending drinkable water.
Dead bodies rotting
In the street for days,
Pervasive taste of decay
Coating every tongue
Presages the end to come
In this country
Dumbed down by the idiot killers in power;
Their death throes,
Our eleventh hour.
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Click here to go to the fall, 2005 GALLERY: Unnatural Disasters
