By Greg Guma, March 1979, Vanguard Press
We can't just buy, build or bully our way out of problems. But we do have another choice: learn from the past, open up the debate, and build a movement for preservation & change.
Showing posts with label OWS. Economics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label OWS. Economics. Show all posts
Friday, November 13, 2015
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Lockheed in Vermont: Sanders’ Corporate Conundrum
Progressive
Eclipse – Chapter Ten
Sandia, Citizens United, and Smart Meters: December 2011
EVERYONE WAS TALKING about the one percent, the few with
most of the wealth. The inequality that Bernie Sanders had railed against since
his first campaign was becoming indisputable. Therefore, it wasn’t surprising
that he was one of the first elected officials to back the Occupy Wall Street
movement. Sanders offered practical proposals to address some of its complaints
and praised protesters for “shining a national spotlight on the most powerful,
dangerous and secretive economic and political force in America.”
He was also leading the charge to have Congress consider a
Constitutional Amendment to address a radical Supreme Court ruling. On Jan. 21,
2010, in the Citizens United v. Federal
Election Commission case, the nation’s High Court said that corporations
are “persons” with First Amendment rights and can’t be prevented from spending
unlimited funds on political campaigns.
| OWS Protest, October 2011 |
The case had begun in 2008 with a dispute over the right of
a non-profit corporation to air a film critical of Hillary Clinton, and
whether the group, Citizens United, could promote their film with ads featuring
Clinton’s image – an apparent violation of the 2002 Bipartisan Campaign Reform
Act, also known as McCain–Feingold. The Supreme Court struck down the
McCain–Feingold provision that prohibited corporations – both for- and non-profit,
as well as unions – from broadcasting “electioneering communications” within
60 days of a general election or 30 days of a primary. It did allow for
disclaimer requirements and disclosure by sponsors of advertisements.
The problem went back to the 1970s, when Congress amended
the Federal Election Campaign Act in an attempt to regulate campaign contributions
and spending. After that, in the controversial 1976 Buckley v. Valeo case, the Supreme Court ruled that spending money
to influence elections is constitutionally protected speech and struck down
parts of the law. It also ruled that candidates could give unlimited amounts of
money to their own campaigns.
Prior to Citizens United, however, a century of US
election laws prohibited corporate managers from spending general treasury
funds in federal elections. Instead, they could expend on campaigns through
separate segregated funds, known as corporate political action committees. Shareholders,
officers and managers who wanted a corporation to advance a political agenda
could contribute funds for that purpose. But the Supreme Court’s new ruling said
that corporations had the same First Amendment rights to make independent
expenditures as natural people, and restrictions prohibiting both corporations
and unions from spending their general treasury funds on independent
expenditures violated the First Amendment.
According to Robert Reich, a public policy expert and former
Secretary of Labor, Citizens United would extent corporate control and drive up
the cost of future presidential races. “All this money is drowning out the
voices of average Americans,” he noted. “Most of us don’t have the dough to
break through. Giving First Amendment rights to money and corporations has hobbled
the First Amendment rights of the rest of us.”
The growing influence of corporations made the emerging
relationship between Sandia Laboratories and Bernie Sanders somewhat
perplexing. Sandia was managed by Lockheed Martin for the Department of
Defense, had roots in the Manhattan Project and a history of turning nuclear
research into weapons. Most of its revenue still came from maintaining and
developing defense systems. Beyond that, as Sanders himself had frequently charged,
Lockheed Martin ranked at the top of the heap in corporate misconduct. Between 1995
and 2010 it was charged with 50 violations and paid $577 million in fines and
settlements. Sanders, an opponent of the Iraq war and wasteful military
spending, had been a vocal congressional critic for more
than a decade. It exemplified corporate power and the one percent.
In the mid-1990s, he’d led the charge against $92 billion in
bonuses for Lockheed Martin executives – nearly $31 million of that received from the
Department of Defense as "restructuring costs" – after the corporation laid
off 17,000 workers. He called that “payoffs for layoffs.” In September 1995, after
his amendment to stop the bonuses passed in the US House, Lockheed launched a
campaign to kill the proposal. When the amendment came back to the floor,
Sanders decided that it still contained too much for the military and opposed
it himself.
In 2009, he was still going after Lockheed in the Senate,
calling out its “systemic, illegal, and fraudulent behavior, while receiving
hundreds and hundreds of billions of dollars of taxpayer money.” By then, however,
he had visited Sandia headquarters and come away eager to have a satellite lab
in Vermont.
Learning
to love Sandia
In January 2010, Sanders led a delegation to Sandia’s New
Mexico lab for a closer look. The group included the CEO of Green Mountain
Power, the state’s leading private utility; the vice president for research at
the University of Vermont; the co-founder of successful alternative energy
companies; and the head of the Vermont Energy Investment Corporation, which runs
Efficiency Vermont.
At the end of the same year, ten days after the
mini-filibuster that jump-started the “draft Bernie” for president campaign,
Mayor Bob Kiss announced the results of his own Lockheed negotiations, begun at
billionaire Richard Branson’s Carbon War Room. It took the form of a “letter of
cooperation” to address climate change by developing local green-energy
solutions.
Lockheed’s proposal to the city focused on “the economic and
strategic challenges posed by our dependence on foreign oil and the potential
destabilizing effects of climate change.” Their partnership would “demonstrate
a model for sustainability that can be replicated across the nation.” Meanwhile,
the Vermont Sandia lab, simultaneously being developed at UVM with Sanders help,
would focus on cyber security and “smart grid” technology. Yet Kiss and
Sanders denied knowing about the partnership being negotiated by the other.
Both Burlington’s Progressive mayor and its famous former mayor-turned-Senator apparently
saw no need to consult. Yet somehow everyone was on the same page.
By 2011, Sanders was also supporting the Pentagon’s proposal
to base Lockheed-built F-35 fight jets at the Burlington International
Airport. Despite his past criticisms of the corporation’s serial misconduct
and excess, he joined with Vermont’s most enthusiastic booster, Senator Patrick
Leahy, signing on to a joint statement of support. If the fighter jet, widely
considered a massive military boondoggle, was going to be built and deployed anyway,
Sanders argued that some of the work ought to done by Vermonters, while Vermont
National Guard jobs should certainly be protected. Noise impacts and
neighborhood dislocation were minimized, while criticism of corporate
exploitation had given way to pork barrel politics and a justification based on
protecting military jobs.
Still, his position hadn’t changed that much. Sandia’s
nuclear associations were never a major obstacle; Sanders had once been
pro-nuclear power, and his criticisms were restrained. His stalwart alliance with
labor had always outweighed his skepticism about military spending. And his
corporate criticism, which focused on fairness and inequality, rarely prevented
him from making an alliance that furthered “bold” initiatives or burnished his record
of leadership.
| Pushing the partnership: Sandia's Rich Stulen presents, Powell, Shumlin and Sanders listen. |
When Vermont’s partnership with Sandia was ultimately
announced, Governor Peter Shumlin didn’t merely share the credit for bringing the
Center for Energy Transformation and Innovation to Vermont. He joked that
Sanders was “like a dog with a bone” on the issue. They had agreed to co-host a
press conference on December 12 to outline the initiative, which now included Sandia,
UVM, Green Mountain Power, several Vermont energy businesses and state
government. The ambitious goal, announced the Senator, was to create “a
revolution in the way we are using power.” At this point the “Draft Bernie” for
president campaign was underway and running as a Democrat, most likely in 2016,
was on the table.
For the next three years, Sandia’s new outpost would have up
to $15 million to research energy efficiency, develop renewable and “localized
sources” and, according to Sanders, make Vermont “the first state to have
near-universal smart meter installations.” Shumlin meanwhile announced a Sandia
pledge to invest $3 million a year, along with $1 million each from the
Department of Energy and state coffers.
Several enthusiastic backers – Sandia VP Richard Stulen, GMP’s Mary
Powell, and UVM’s Acting President John Bramley – joined the governor at
Sanders’ Burlington office for the launch. For Sandia, it was “a way to
understand all of the challenges that face all states,” Stulen explained.
Vermont’s size simply made it more possible “to get something done,” especially
since “integration” had already begun with the university, utilities and other
stakeholders.
It didn’t hurt that Vermont’s reputation for energy
innovation had also attracted $69.8 million in US Department of Energy funding
to promote a rapid statewide conversion to smart grid technology. This would be
matched by another $69 million from Vermont utilities. The goal was to “turn
the grid from a one-way into a two-way street,” Stulen announced. Another focus
would be to ensure reliable service. That meant “anticipating any cyber
challenges that may be opened up, or vulnerabilities that may be opened up as
we move to this new future,” he explained. “Sandia is very much in the
forefront of cyber research.”
Sanders’ statement stressed the more provincial point that
although the US had 17 national labs doing “cutting edge research,” none of
them were yet located in New England.
“It occurred to me,” he explained, “that we have the potential to establish
a very strong and positive relationship with Sandia here in the State of
Vermont.” Thus, his intention was to turn the three-year arrangement into “a
long-term presence.” By implication, Lockheed Martin had gone from corporate scofflaw
to valued research partner.
Vermont
as testing ground
“From an environmental, global warming and economic
perspective, it is enormously important that we transform our energy system
away from fossil fuel to energy efficiency and sustainable energy,” Sanders
argued at the launch. “And working with Sandia and their wide areas of
knowledge – some of the best scientists in the country – we hope to take a
state that is already a leader in some of these areas even further.”
For many activists and progressives, it sounded more like
corporate “greenwashing” than a bold step forward.
Shumlin called it “a really exciting development” for the
state. “We have an extraordinary opportunity to show the nation how to use
smart grid, how to use energy efficiency to save money for businesses, and for
consumers. And how to insure that Vermont is the leader in getting off our
addiction to oil.” He noted that when people asked him how Vermont had snagged
so much money for the project, his answer was the partnership the center would represent.
“It’s a huge opportunity and a huge accomplishment.”
On the other hand, there was little dispute that having so
many interactive devices on two-way networks would create new risks. In fact,
Kenneth van Meter, Lockheed’s manager of energy and cyber services, admitted
it, predicting that by 2015 there would be “440 million new hackable points on
the grid. Nobody’s equipped to deal with that today.”
Asked about cyber threats, Stulen acknowledged that “more
portals” certainly did create more potential threats, but countered that “we
think this is a manageable situation. In fact, the benefits far outweigh the
risks.” The main benefit was the potential for lower utilities bills by
monitoring home energy use. But security would also be a focus. “We don’t see
it as an overriding issue right now, but as a national laboratory our job is to
anticipate the future,” he said.
Smart Meters, the basic unit of a smart grid, are digital,
usually wireless utility meters with the ability to collect information and
transmit it to a central location. Supporters claim their widespread use will
improve energy efficiency, service reliability, and the environment. Critics
counter that they also make the power grid more vulnerable to hacking, have
potential radiation-related health effects, and don’t really reduce energy
consumption. They also charge that “time-of-use” pricing penalizes people who
can least afford it, while a centralized grid threatens privacy and gives
corporations more access to private data.
Smart meters have also been linked to fires and other
damage, but aren’t covered by homeowners insurance because the devices haven’t
been industry-approved. Needless to say, such problems and potential side
effects didn’t come up at Sanders’ press conference.
Instead, the Senator explained that “the federal government
has invested $4 billion in smart grid technology, and they want to know that
we’re going to work out some of the problems as other states follow us. So
Vermont, in a sense, becomes a resource for other states to learn how to do it,
how to overcome problems that may arise.” Another way to put that: Vermont
would be a testing ground, Sandia’s smart grid guinea pig.
It was a good example of Sanders’ style and pragmatism,
leveraging Vermont’s assets in a privately negotiated arrangement, a public-private
partnership with PR value and short-term economic benefits – but unknown
long-term consequences. And justifying the high-level deal on the grounds of
leading the nation, a transparent appeal to state chauvinism.
“In many ways, we are a laboratory for the rest of this
country in this area,” Sanders crowed. “With Sandia’s help, I think we are
going to do that job very effectively.” But in another way, it suggested that being
a corporate predator wasn’t always disqualifying, especially when weighed
against the mainstream acclaim and leadership role such a partnership would
confer.
Despite the confident presentation, however, the launch ended
abruptly after a single question was asked about the city’s aborted partnership
with Lockheed Martin. Before a TV reporter could even complete his query Sanders
interrupted and challenged it. Lockheed is not “a parent company” of Sandia, he
objected.
Then, as often the case when fielding unwelcome
questions, he declined to say more – about Lockheed Martin or the climate
change agreement Mayor Kiss had signed, the standards adopted by the City
Council, the mayor’s veto, or Lockheed’s subsequent withdrawal from the deal.
Instead, he turned the question over to Stulen, the man from Sandia, who
offered what he called “some myth-busting.”
It was more like a clarification. All national laboratories
are required to have “an oversight board provided by the private sector,” he
said. “So, Lockheed Martin does provide oversight, but all of the work is done
by Sandia National Laboratories and we’re careful to put firewalls in place
between the laboratory and Lockheed Martin.”
In other words, trust us to respect the appropriate boundaries,
do the right thing, and follow the rules. Moments later, the press conference
was over.
NEXT:
A Tale of Two Caucuses
Thursday, May 14, 2015
Bernie's Paper Trail: The Burlington Years (1981-1990)
Progressive Eclipse - Chapter Eight
UPON LEAVING THE mayor’s office after four terms, Bernie Sanders donated more than 50 boxes of official papers and files to the University of Vermont library. The index created by UVM's Special Collections listed around 1,400 separate files covering March 1981 to November 1988. According to Sanders aide George Thabault, much correspondence during the first few years had been lost. But what remained ran from Abenaki to Zoning. About 10 boxes covered areas like administrative meetings, speeches and statements, commissions, selected departments and people, proclamations and controversial topics.
To a supporter who thought, in 1988, that Sanders was a socialist candidate for Congress, he explained candidly, “Socialist is the political and economic philosophy I hold, not a party I run under.” And when two Californians asked in a letter, “What does Socialism really mean in the United States at the current state of conditions and confusion that exists at all levels?” he offered this characteristic reply:
| Reading poetry at Maverick Bookstore, 1986 |
“That’s an excellent question which I really don’t have time to answer now. I will simply say that in Burlington we have a three-party system – Progressive, Republicans and Democrats, and that I think we are doing many good things for working people, poor people and elderly people in our community.”
People often urged him to run for one thing or another. They also offered advice, warnings and pats on the back. Author Gerard Colby, for example, noted in a November 1983 letter that interstate banking would hurt efforts to stop condominium development on the waterfront by giving entrepreneurs and developers “a valuable and powerful ally beyond Vermont’s borders.” Three years later, that became a hot statewide issue.
Around the same time, Montpelier attorney Richard Rubin expressed his concern that the city might be duped in dealings with developers of the waterfront. “I thought I would point out to you that the term ‘profit’ has little meaning in large-scale real estate developments,” he wrote. “These projects can operate as substantial balance-sheet losses but still be quite lucrative to the investors. I am sure there are good accountants who can explain this to you.”
By Spring 1984, Sanders had statewide visibility and growing political power. With George Thabault’s victory in solidly Democratic Ward 5, the Progressives had gained a sixth seat on the City Council. Sanders considered briefly, but then rejected the idea of a run for governor that year. Many people offered opinions on what he should do. Among them was Democrat Peter Welch, himself a potential statewide candidate. Welch wrote, “Congratulations on your recent victories. Perhaps your opponents have come to the reluctant conclusion that the politics of obstruction doesn’t work. While I understand your decision, many have looked forward to your campaign. Perhaps another day.”
In 1990, Sanders did the convincing. He persuaded Welch to run for governor instead of the US House of Representatives, while he made his successful bid for Congress. Welch lost. But the two remained political allies, and when Sanders became a US Senator in 2006 Welch replaced him in the House.
Occasionally Sanders offered advice to presidents. To Ronald Reagan, on the occasion of declaring October 24-31, 1981 Disarmament Week in Burlington, he wrote:
“I urge you, in the strongest possible way, to stop doing ‘business as usual.’ International conflicts can no longer be solved by war. It has no worked in the past, and it may well destroy the world in the future.”
Several years later, he made a proposal to former President Carter: that Carter visit Nicaragua and help build some housing. “Your presence there,” he urged in August 1985, “would send a powerful message to the citizens of the United States, challenging them by the model of your own efforts to provide material aid to help the people of Nicaragua in constructive ways."
Despite his stated desire to change military and foreign policies, however, there wasn’t much in his papers about local support for these goals. His coolness to economic conversion of Burlington’s armaments plant was evidenced by the absence of any file on the subject. In 1987, he did note to activist Robin Lloyd that opposition to any peace initiatives that "cost jobs" would be enormous.
Still, he did add, “I believe that a rational conversion policy will not only result in more employment opportunities for Americans but in a radical improvement in the quality of life in our country.” It was more support for changing basic military spending priorities than he ever gave in public.
On the Rise
By 1983 the Sanders administration and local progressive movement were in high gear. The minutes of the April 6 administrative meeting show a broad and systematic approach. Personnel Director Peter Clavelle and Treasurer Jonathan Leopold were at the center of things. Clavelle ended up succeeding Sanders as mayor. Leopold, although leaving city government after a succession rivalry with Clavelle, returned as the City’s Chief Financial and Operating Officer under Clavelle’s successor Bob Kiss. In 1983, they were pushing plans to expand health insurance for city employees, streamline Council meetings, bring more women into the Police Department, and push through interim zoning.
An April memo listed more than 40 actual and proposed projects, including a rental housing clearinghouse, alternative school, emergency shelter, office of arts and culture, international work camp, taxi subsidies, park improvements, youth center and self-defense classes. Each month the list got longer.
Among Sanders’ frustrations about Burlington’s form of government, commissions were at the top of the list. Commissioners, a majority of them aligned with the Democrats and Republicans, controlled most city departments. Attempts to unify and streamline were resisted until Clavelle, a decade later, succeeded in pushing through charter revisions favoring a strong chief executive. Prior to Sanders’ election the vast majority of commission appointments were made with only one candidate in the running. In 1980, only two out of 25 appointments were contested. Two years later, all but two involved competition.
In a March 1983 letter to the City Council Sanders focuses on one area of concern. “Of the 103 citizens currently serving on Burlington’s commissions,” he reminded them, “only 21 are women. Clearly, the City of Burlington wants to address this serious inequality of representation.” But he wanted more than that, changes in the city charter and shorter terms for commissioners. The current structure, he said, relies on Council members “for handling many routine administrative matters more properly the responsibility of an executive. The Mayor competes with a variety of independent boards, commissioners, committees, and individuals.”
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| Representation on commissions remains a problem |
When the Council asked for a clarification, the city attorney wrote back, “Some commissions are subject to orders issued by the City Council while other are not.” In fact, at least eight commissions, including traffic, police, planning, parks and recreation, light and the library, were not subject to the council’s orders in areas delegated to them by the charter. Determined to unify administration, Sanders and his staff turned to departmental mergers, starting with the Department of Public Works. Others were considered during the 1980s.
Although leaning toward the fan mail variety, correspondence files were not short on criticisms. One example came from Antonio Pomerleau, the influential developer who had been excoriated by Sanders during his initial run for mayor, yet remained the key man on the Police Commission. In 1987, he finally resigned, confident that he and the mayor had come to an understanding. But less than a year later he was upset to learn that the police force wouldn’t get five more men.
“Remember Bernie at your last re-election,” he wrote heatedly, “you promised the people of Burlington you would put on an additional 20 officers over the next four years…Bernie, this was an absolute definite commitment to the people of Burlington. Let’s get together on this as I am extremely disappointed.”
But was he actually surprised? Hadn’t he heard, from Sanders’ most bitter opponents, that the “Sanderistas” couldn’t be trusted? Perhaps he had missed the Paul Revere-like warning issued several years earlier by state Senator Tom Crowley. Writing to Rutland Mayor John Daley in 1982, Crowley offered a bizarre conspiracy theory.
Daley apparently harbored hopes that, if Burlington’s Southern Connector project was terminated, some of the funds might be freed up for a road in his area. Not likely, responded Crowley. But he went much farther. “Watch this group from Burlington,” he warned. “They are the exact same group that ‘sprouted the seed’ which is flourishing in Burlington now. They started under the guise of the connector as a front. Their program worked so well in Burlington that they have apparently targeted Rutland as Bernie Sandersville number 2.”
Despite such dire warnings, Pomerleau and Sanders did ultimately declare a truce and develop an alliance. Decades later, Pomerleau provided crucial help to Jane Sanders, then President of Burlington College, when the school purchased 33 acres of land owned by the Catholic diocese, even providing a loan of $500,000 to close the deal.
By 1988, midway through his fourth mayoral term, Sanders clearly had his eye on Congress. “While it is true,” he wrote to a supporter in Newport, “that a Congressman is only one of 435, a strong Congressman saying things that few others have the courage to say could have a national impact. Ultimately, the most important questions facing the nation are being dealt with in Washington. It would be very interesting being there.”
Management of day-to-day affairs was now in the hands of Clavelle and Leopold, but the broad vision emanated from his office. When the University Health Center decided to restructure its board of directors, for instance, he was quick to suggest that UHC, the most powerful association of doctors in the state, put a consumer representative on the board. Or, when word filtered back about a conflict between the Public Works Department and city workers, he warned the commission supervising the department that he would “not tolerate any department in this city attempting to subvert the legal contract that we have with the union.”
Sanders’ papers also reveal concern about how his marriage to Jane Driscoll, who had become Sanders’ second wife, would affect her employment as director of the city’s youth office. She had created the office and her job in 1981, beginning as a volunteer, and developed it into a well-paid contract position. William Aswad, a longtime opponent of the mayor who had become a member of the City Council, made not-so-subtle inquiries about her salary and status.
![]() |
| Power Couple: Jane and Bernie with Lance Armstrong |
In May 1988, Sanders asked City Attorney Joe McNeil if the city’s “anti-nepotism” rules would preclude his new wife from continuing her work. The answer was a clear no. Personnel regulations were intended to limit the hiring of a relative, not to prevent existing employees from becoming relatives or forcing them to lose their jobs if they did so. “In conclusion, this office wishes you and Jane a very happy marriage,” wrote McNeil. “This is the first time in nearly 20 years as City Attorney that I have been able to close a legal opinion in this fashion.”
Like watching his administration, reviewing Sanders papers revealed a few blind spots. Environmental matters, local control, participatory management and alternatives in areas like development rarely received more than lip service. Researchers will have trouble finding any Sanders thoughts during this period on nuclear power, growth or pollution. On the other hand, his eight years in local office represented an ambitious attempt to change the rules and scope of local government. Just holding the reins of an unruly, often resistant power structure often took all the effort he and the Progressives could muster.
Maybe the strain was on his mind when he issued one of his more personal comments on the radio.
“It’s all so confusing,” he told listeners one summer day. “And then – life goes on back at home – in the real world. Another farm disappears. Another parking lot is built.” Family breadwinners are afraid to speak out on the job for fear of being fired, he lamented. They have phone and electric bills to pay and car repairs to think about. “And it’s summer time, and maybe we’ll get to the beach, if the lake’s not polluted."
“I’m Bernie Sanders,” he finished. “It’s been a very long day at the office. Thanks for listening.”
NEXT: The Pragmatic Populist
Thursday, April 9, 2015
Burlington Gets Occupied
Progressive Eclipse – Chapter
Three
Burlington’s OWS wasn’t just complaining about Wall Street; its objective was to give the growing activist urgency a local focus. Social networks made it possible both to mobilize people within hours and provide local examples of larger problems. “We need to start looking here in Burlington with our homeless shelters being more than three times of capacity,” suggested local organizer Jonathan Leavitt. Months earlier Leavitt had been a leader in the local anti-Lockheed mobilization.
Senator Bernie Sanders and Congressman Peter Welch were among the first officials to back the goals of Occupy, and even offered some legislative proposals to address its grievances. For example, Welch was opposing attempts to add banking fees to checking accounts. He called the plan by Bank of America and Citibank to charge users a monthly fee for the use of their debit cards “simply shameless.” At a time when consumers are struggling, “they stick the knife in by charging customers to get access to their accounts,” Welch charged. “When will enough be enough for big banks?”
Sanders meanwhile praised the protesters for “shining a national spotlight on the most powerful, dangerous and secretive economic and political force in America.” He floated a list of ideas to change the financial system, including a proposal to break up banks that were supposedly “too big to fail,” cap credit card interest rates, provide low-interest loans to small businesses through the Federal Reserve, end excessive oil speculation, force Wall Street to invest in job creation and impose a fee for speculative investments like credit default swaps and derivatives.
At Marlboro College, Ralph Meima, director of the school’s Sustainability Management graduate program, launched an online “crowd-sourced” Google document that let contributors around the world help to develop an American People’s New Economic Charter. Crowd-sourcing had recently emerged as an Internet strategy to promote diverse, democratic input. Contributions varied from the profound to the superfluous.
The overall goal was to create a comprehensive list of legislative, regulatory and social reforms consistent with the new movement. Billed as an “experiment in total inclusion and transparency,” Meima described his project as “a declaration of the economic changes that the 99 percent want to see come out of the Occupy Wall Street movement.”
Labor leaders also backed the general goals of the Occupy movement, according to AFL-CIO President Richard Trumka. During a conference with reporters he announced, “We are going to support them in any way we can. We’re not going to try to usurp them in any way.”
The poster for an October 15 Montpelier rally captured the mood with this pointed headline: “The War on Wealth.” The schedule for the day included a solidarity rally at City Hall, then a March to the Statehouse and a people’s General Assembly. Similar events were organized in Burlington, Brattleboro and Rutland. In Burlington, more than 500 people marched for two hours, taking their jobs and justice message from downtown to the University of Vermont campus. In Montpelier, 300 turned out on the steps of City Hall and the Statehouse.
At this point, almost half of all Americans felt that the economic system was personally unfair to them, according to a Gallup poll. A big reason was that they were getting the picture: The top 1 percent had amassed greater net worth than the “bottom” 90 percent. And, in an unusual generational twist, more people under 30 viewed the concept of socialism in a positive light than capitalism.
The movement’s objective was nevertheless ambitious – to occupy parks, schools, corporate offices, streets, basically anywhere and everywhere – until something substantial was done about what was now being called economic tyranny. It was an uncomfortably apt description of the current “world order.”
On the other hand, many in the movement expressed shock at the heavy-handed official response, as if they had discovered something new about the relationship between the state and those who disagree. Others tended to be overly suspicious about cooptation or thought that even unions and moveon.org were political “Trojan horses.” Still others suggested that their efforts to create self-governing communities represented a breakthrough of paradigm-altering significance. Was it hubris, naiveté, or just idealism and youthful ambition?
Many saw OWS as a counterculture, a transformational social experiment. To survive, they argued, it would have to remain separate and uncompromised by the dominant culture. The problem was that, in order to fully participate in its non-hierarchical, consensus-based process, people had to make it a central part of their lives. This posed a problem for those without that much “free time.”
Thousands of people were taking
to the streets, protesting the growing global disparity of wealth and income.
Beginning on Wall Street a decentralized rebellion had spread nationwide, and
was on the verge of turning into a significant multi-issue mobilization. By
October 2011, the fledgling movement had reached at least 150 communities
across the country and more overseas. In the nation’s capital a group calling
itself Occupy DC set up camp in McPherson Square, a few blocks from the White
House; more events were being planned from New York and Boston to Chicago,
Denver, Seattle, and San Francisco.
In Burlington, hundreds of people
began to gather as part of the broader uprising, giving voice to local anger
about economic inequality and the excesses of banks and economic elites.
Inspired and emboldened by the wave of protests, they promised to return each
week until the roots of problem were addressed. They also began to discuss whether
a local “occupation” should occur.
On a typical Sunday, after a warm
up in City Hall Park, the group would march and sing their way up Church
Street’s pedestrian mall as shoppers watched. Then, without having requested a
permit, they’d turn down College Street to the Citizens Bank, a convenient symbol
of excess across from City Hall. Standing in front of the bank door, people
took turns addressing the crowd, which repeated key phrases so that everyone
could hear. Participants were also learning a new language, one linked in turn to
a radical democratic process.
“You go bankrupt you lose your
house,” shouted organizer Matthew Cropp on a Sunday in early October. “The
largest banks in this country go bankrupt and they get a free ride from the
government. They get billions of dollars in bailout money.” Each sentence was
repeated by about 125 people.
The local protest was part of what
was now called Occupy Wall Street, or the 99% movement. Spokespeople – it
claimed to have no leaders – described it as a decentralized, non-violent
rebellion against economic tyranny that had burst forth through social networks,
websites, and a loose alliance of groups and activists.
On June 13, as part of a “day of
action” in New York, a group had attempted to occupy Zucotti Park, a
public space close to Wall Street and the New York Federal Reserve. Although
that early attempt to “occupy” the park failed a People’s General Assembly was
formed, and by October Zucotti had become the site of what was looking like a permanent
encampment attracting thousands and serving as the nexus for decision-making
and broader action plans.
On September
17, Adbusters magazine issued a public call to Occupy Wall
Street, which immediately became known as OWS. Radical groups with names like
Anonymous, A99, and US Day of Rage were among the earliest to endorse its goals.
According to David DeGraw, editor of AmpedStatus.com, the unifying principle
was that, “anything you can do to rebel against the system of economic tyranny
in a non-violent manner is welcome.”
It was radical, but in some ways mirrored
the outrage and defiance of the conservative, anti-government Tea Party
movement that had preceded it.
After weeks of rallies, police eventually
arrested 700 protesters for attempting to block Brooklyn Bridge. This hardly
discouraged the movement. In fact, more people joined. OWS wasn’t focusing
primarily on the government, although it did have a legislative agenda. Its
primary targets were “banksters” and corporate forces that had destabilized the
economy and widened the gap between the rich and poor while enriching
themselves.Burlington’s OWS wasn’t just complaining about Wall Street; its objective was to give the growing activist urgency a local focus. Social networks made it possible both to mobilize people within hours and provide local examples of larger problems. “We need to start looking here in Burlington with our homeless shelters being more than three times of capacity,” suggested local organizer Jonathan Leavitt. Months earlier Leavitt had been a leader in the local anti-Lockheed mobilization.
Senator Bernie Sanders and Congressman Peter Welch were among the first officials to back the goals of Occupy, and even offered some legislative proposals to address its grievances. For example, Welch was opposing attempts to add banking fees to checking accounts. He called the plan by Bank of America and Citibank to charge users a monthly fee for the use of their debit cards “simply shameless.” At a time when consumers are struggling, “they stick the knife in by charging customers to get access to their accounts,” Welch charged. “When will enough be enough for big banks?”
Sanders meanwhile praised the protesters for “shining a national spotlight on the most powerful, dangerous and secretive economic and political force in America.” He floated a list of ideas to change the financial system, including a proposal to break up banks that were supposedly “too big to fail,” cap credit card interest rates, provide low-interest loans to small businesses through the Federal Reserve, end excessive oil speculation, force Wall Street to invest in job creation and impose a fee for speculative investments like credit default swaps and derivatives.
At Marlboro College, Ralph Meima, director of the school’s Sustainability Management graduate program, launched an online “crowd-sourced” Google document that let contributors around the world help to develop an American People’s New Economic Charter. Crowd-sourcing had recently emerged as an Internet strategy to promote diverse, democratic input. Contributions varied from the profound to the superfluous.
The overall goal was to create a comprehensive list of legislative, regulatory and social reforms consistent with the new movement. Billed as an “experiment in total inclusion and transparency,” Meima described his project as “a declaration of the economic changes that the 99 percent want to see come out of the Occupy Wall Street movement.”
Labor leaders also backed the general goals of the Occupy movement, according to AFL-CIO President Richard Trumka. During a conference with reporters he announced, “We are going to support them in any way we can. We’re not going to try to usurp them in any way.”
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| General Assembly in City Hall Park |
The poster for an October 15 Montpelier rally captured the mood with this pointed headline: “The War on Wealth.” The schedule for the day included a solidarity rally at City Hall, then a March to the Statehouse and a people’s General Assembly. Similar events were organized in Burlington, Brattleboro and Rutland. In Burlington, more than 500 people marched for two hours, taking their jobs and justice message from downtown to the University of Vermont campus. In Montpelier, 300 turned out on the steps of City Hall and the Statehouse.
At this point, almost half of all Americans felt that the economic system was personally unfair to them, according to a Gallup poll. A big reason was that they were getting the picture: The top 1 percent had amassed greater net worth than the “bottom” 90 percent. And, in an unusual generational twist, more people under 30 viewed the concept of socialism in a positive light than capitalism.
The movement’s objective was nevertheless ambitious – to occupy parks, schools, corporate offices, streets, basically anywhere and everywhere – until something substantial was done about what was now being called economic tyranny. It was an uncomfortably apt description of the current “world order.”
On the other hand, many in the movement expressed shock at the heavy-handed official response, as if they had discovered something new about the relationship between the state and those who disagree. Others tended to be overly suspicious about cooptation or thought that even unions and moveon.org were political “Trojan horses.” Still others suggested that their efforts to create self-governing communities represented a breakthrough of paradigm-altering significance. Was it hubris, naiveté, or just idealism and youthful ambition?
Many saw OWS as a counterculture, a transformational social experiment. To survive, they argued, it would have to remain separate and uncompromised by the dominant culture. The problem was that, in order to fully participate in its non-hierarchical, consensus-based process, people had to make it a central part of their lives. This posed a problem for those without that much “free time.”
Combining 18th century democratic
principles with 21st century methods, Occupy activists wanted to change the political
culture. And to some extent, they were starting to succeed, shifting the focus
from debt and deficits to wealth inequality. But they also wanted much more. As
writer Todd Gitlin explained, “They wanted to produce a society of their own,
and half believed they were producing it.”
By late October OWS activists in
Burlington had launched an encampment at City Hall Park. As long as some
basic rules were followed, announced Mayor Kiss, he was prepared to be
flexible. Things went well at first, in contrast with the violent
confrontations between police and protesters that shut down encampments elsewhere.
But an impromptu concert in the park led to the relaxation of normal rules one
night, and the next day some campers were still intoxicated -- including Joshua
Pfenning, a 35-year-old homeless man. His
death that day from a self-inflicted gunshot wound was traumatic for the local movement,
and especially for those who had tried to help Pfenning. It also marked the
abrupt end of the Burlington encampment.
By that time, however, almost everyone
was talking about the 1%, the few with most of the wealth – bankers, energy
tycoons, hedge fund managers and the rest. And as filmmaker Robert Greenwald
pointed out, there was an even smaller elite – the top 0.01 percent, wealthy
military contractors. That made the welcome given to Sandia Laboratories
and Lockheed Martin by Vermont’s progressive leaders even more troubling for
local liberals and peace activists.
As
protesters on the streets chanted "We are the 99%,” election season was
just heating up in Burlington. At a Democratic debate two days after declaring
his candidacy for mayor, State Sen. Tim Ashe, a former Progressive
member of the City Council, proposed an unusual alliance – fusion with the
Democrats to defeat the Republican challenge from Kurt Wright. Yet on the F-35s
and partnering with a predatory corporation, leading progressive critics of
concentrated wealth and the military-industrial complex like Bernie Sanders and
Bob Kiss were making basically the same arguments as their conservative
opponents. Most local Progressives preferred to ignore it and focus instead on
survival.
NEXT: The Fusion Option
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