By Chris Hedges
truthout
(The following is excerpted from a Truthdig Op-Ed. To read the entire article, click on the truthout link above.)
The danger the corporate state faces does not come from the poor. The poor, those Karl Marx dismissed as the Lumpenproletariat, do not mount revolutions, although they join them and often become cannon fodder. The real danger to the elite comes from declasse intellectuals, those educated middle-class men and women who are barred by a calcified system from advancement. Artists without studios or theaters, teachers without classrooms, lawyers without clients, doctors without patients and journalists without newspapers descend economically. They become, as they mingle with the underclass, a bridge between the worlds of the elite and the oppressed. And they are the dynamite that triggers revolt.
This is why the Occupy movement frightens the corporate elite. What
fosters revolution is not misery, but the gap between what people expect
from their lives and what is offered. This is especially acute among
the educated and the talented. They feel, with much justification, that
they have been denied what they deserve. They set out to rectify this
injustice. And the longer the injustice festers, the more radical they
become.
The response of a dying regime—and our corporate regime is dying—is
to employ increasing levels of force, and to foolishly refuse to
ameliorate the chronic joblessness, foreclosures, mounting student debt,
lack of medical insurance and exclusion from the centers of power.
Revolutions are fueled by an inept and distant ruling class that
perpetuates political paralysis. This ensures its eventual death.
In every revolutionary movement I covered in Latin America, Africa
and the Middle East, the leadership emerged from déclassé intellectuals.
The leaders were usually young or middle-aged, educated and always
unable to meet their professional and personal aspirations. They were
never part of the power elite, although often their parents had been.
They were conversant in the language of power as well as the language of
oppression. It is the presence of large numbers of déclassé
intellectuals that makes the uprisings in Spain, Egypt, Greece and
finally the United States threatening to the overlords at Goldman Sachs,
ExxonMobil and JPMorgan Chase. They must face down opponents who
understand, in a way the uneducated often do not, the lies disseminated
on behalf of corporations by the public relations industry. These
déclassé intellectuals, because they are conversant in economics and
political theory, grasp that those who hold power, real power, are not
the elected mandarins in Washington but the criminal class on Wall
Street.
This is what made Malcolm X so threatening to the white power structure. He refused to countenance
Martin Luther King's fiction that white power and white liberals would
ever lift black people out of economic squalor. King belatedly came to
share Malcolm's view. Malcolm X named the enemy. He exposed the lies.
And until we see the corporate state, and the games it is playing with
us, with the same kind of clarity, we will be nothing more than useful
idiots.
"This is an era of hypocrisy," Malcolm X said. "When white folks
pretend that they want Negroes to be free, and Negroes pretend to white
folks that they really believe that white folks want 'em to be free,
it's an era of hypocrisy, brother. You fool me and I fool you. You
pretend that you're my brother and I pretend that I really believe you
believe you're my brother."
Those within a demoralized ruling elite, like characters in a Chekhov
play, increasingly understand that the system that enriches and
empowers them is corrupt and decayed. They become cynical. They do not
govern effectively. They retreat into hedonism. They no longer believe
their own rhetoric. They devote their energies to stealing and
exploiting as much, as fast, as possible. They pillage their own
institutions, as we have seen with the newly disclosed loss of $2
billion within JPMorgan Chase, the meltdown of Chesapeake Energy Corp.
or the collapse of Enron and Lehman Brothers. The elites become
cannibals. They consume each other. This is what happens in the latter
stages of all dying regimes. Louis XIV pillaged his own nobility by
revoking patents of nobility
and reselling them. It is what most corporations do to their
shareholders. A dying ruling class, in short, no longer acts to preserve
its own longevity. It becomes fashionable, even in the rarefied circles
of the elite, to ridicule and laugh at the political puppets that are
the public face of the corporate state.
"Ideas that have outlived their day may hobble about the world for years," Alexander Herzen
wrote, "but it is hard for them ever to lead and dominate life. Such
ideas never gain complete possession of a man, or they gain possession
only of incomplete people."
This loss of faith means that when it comes time to use force, the
elites employ it haphazardly and inefficiently, in large part because
they are unsure of the loyalty of the foot soldiers on the streets
charged with carrying out repression.
Revolutions take time. The American Revolution began with protests
against the Stamp Act of 1765 but did not erupt until a decade later.
The 1917 revolution in Russia started with a dress rehearsal in 1905.
The most effective revolutions, including the Russian Revolution, have
been largely nonviolent. There are always violent radicals who carry out
bombings and assassinations, but they hinder, especially in the early
stages, more than help revolutions. The anarchist Peter Kropotkin
during the Russian Revolution condemned the radical terrorists,
asserting that they only demoralized and frightened away the movement's
followers and discredited authentic anarchism.
Radical violent groups cling like parasites to popular protests. The
Black Panthers, the American Indian Movement, the Weather Underground,
the Red Brigades and the Symbionese Liberation Army arose in the ferment
of the 1960s. Violent radicals are used by the state to justify harsh
repression. They scare the mainstream from the movement. They thwart the
goal of all revolutions, which is to turn the majority against an
isolated and discredited ruling class. These violent fringe groups are
seductive to those who yearn for personal empowerment through
hyper-masculinity and violence, but they do little to advance the cause.
The primary role of radical extremists, such as Maximilien Robespierre
and Vladimir Lenin, is to hijack successful revolutions. They unleash a
reign of terror, primarily against fellow revolutionaries, which often
outdoes the repression of the old regime. They often do not play much of
a role in building a revolution.
The power of the Occupy movement is that it expresses the widespread
disgust with the elites, and the deep desire for justice and fairness
that is essential to all successful revolutionary movements. The Occupy
movement will change and mutate, but it will not go away. It may appear
to make little headway, but this is less because of the movement's
ineffectiveness and more because decayed systems of power have an
amazing ability to perpetuate themselves through habit, routine and
inertia. The press and organs of communication, along with the anointed
experts and academics, tied by money and ideology to the elites, are
useless in dissecting what is happening within these movements. They
view reality through the lens of their corporate sponsors. They have no
idea what is happening.
Dying regimes are chipped away slowly and imperceptibly. The
assumptions and daily formalities of the old system are difficult for
citizens to abandon, even when the old system is increasingly hostile to
their dignity, well-being and survival. Supplanting an old faith with a
new one is the silent, unseen battle of all revolutionary movements.
And during the slow transition it is almost impossible to measure
progress.
"Sometimes people hold a core belief that is very strong," Fanon wrote in "Black Skin, White Masks."
"When they are presented with evidence that works against that belief,
the new evidence cannot be accepted. It would create a feeling that is
extremely uncomfortable, called cognitive dissonance. And because it is
so important to protect the core belief, they will rationalize, ignore
and even deny anything that doesn't fit in with the core belief."
The end of these regimes comes when old beliefs die and the organs of
security, especially the police and military, abandon the elites and
join the revolutionaries. This is true in every successful revolution.
It does not matter how sophisticated the repressive apparatus. Once
those who handle the tools of repression become demoralized, the
security and surveillance state is impotent. Regimes, when they die, are
like a great ocean liner sinking in minutes on the horizon. And no one,
including the purported leaders of the opposition, can predict the
moment of death. Revolutions have an innate, mysterious life force that
defies comprehension. They are living entities.
The defection of the security apparatus is often done with little or
no violence, as I witnessed in Eastern Europe in 1989 and as was also
true in 1979 in Iran and in 1917 in Russia. At other times, when it has
enough residual force to fight back, the dying regime triggers a violent
clash as it did in the American Revolution when soldiers and officers
in the British army, including George Washington, rebelled to raise the
Continental Army. Violence also characterized the 1949 Chinese
revolution led by Mao Zedong. But even revolutions that turn violent
succeed, as Mao conceded, because they enjoy popular support and can
mount widespread protests, strikes, agitation, revolutionary propaganda
and acts of civil disobedience. The object is to try to get there
without violence. Armed revolutions, despite what the history books
often tell us, are tragic, ugly, frightening and sordid affairs. Those
who storm Bastilles, as the Polish dissident Adam Michnik wrote,
"unwittingly build new ones." And once revolutions turn violent it
becomes hard to speak of victors and losers.
A revolution has been unleashed across the globe. This revolution, a
popular repudiation of the old order, is where we should direct all our
energy and commitment. If we do not topple the corporate elites the
ecosystem will be destroyed and massive numbers of human beings along
with it. The struggle will be long. There will be times when it will
seem we are going nowhere. Victory is not inevitable. But this is our
best and only hope. The response of the corporate state will ultimately
determine the parameters and composition of rebellion. I pray we
replicate the 1989 nonviolent revolutions that overthrew the communist
regimes in Eastern Europe. But this is not in my hands or yours. Go
ahead and vote this November. But don't waste any more time or energy on
the presidential election than it takes to get to your polling station
and pull a lever for a third-party candidate—just enough to register
your obstruction and defiance—and then get back out onto the street.
That is where the question of real power is being decided.
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