Helen H. Moore's Blog, page 805
April 14, 2016
“We’ve got to have the guts to rethink the so-called ‘War on Drugs’”: Bernie renews call to legalize pot at debate
During Thursday night's Democratic debate, Vermont Senator Bernie Sanders launched into former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton for supporting the omnibus crime bill her husband passed in the 1990s, especially the parts of it that related to drug sentencing. "I tell you what I think," Sanders said, "we've got to have the guts to rethink the so-called 'War on Drugs.' Too many lives have been destroyed because people have possessed marijuana." "Millions," he added, "which is why I believe we should take marijuana out of the federal controlled substance act." Hillary Clinton replied that "we recognize that we have a set of problems that we cannot ignore and must address," but instead of addressing the issue of the crime bill her husband shepherded into law, she began to discuss early childhood education. Watch Sanders’ speech here: [jwplayer file="http://media.salon.com/2016/04/4.14.2..." image="http://media.salon.com/2016/04/Screen...]
Forget the pundits and political experts: Let Patton Oswalt guide you through tonight’s Democratic debate
Political addicts and commentators love live-tweeting political debates — hey, it's a great hobby. But no one seems to do it better than Patton Oswalt. Here's some of his best tweets from Thursday's Democratic debate between Hillary Clinton and Bernie Sanders in Brooklyn, New York.
"I HATE the way Hillary and Bernie talk. Their voices annoy me." -- Trump and Cruz voters. #DemDebate
— Patton Oswalt (@pattonoswalt) April 15, 2016
Guys, we'd be fine with either of these candidates as president. We'd be great. Stop your posturing, both sides. #DemDebate
— Patton Oswalt (@pattonoswalt) April 15, 2016
Bernie connects to millennials with his masterful use of winces and sighs. #DemDebate — Patton Oswalt (@pattonoswalt) April 15, 2016
My take on the #DemDebate: really looking forward to SNL this Saturday.
— Patton Oswalt (@pattonoswalt) April 15, 2016
The lung-wad Bernie almost just coughed up was formed during the Woodstock Festival. #DemDebate — Patton Oswalt (@pattonoswalt) April 15, 2016
What DON'T you cheer for, debate crowd? #DemDebate
— Patton Oswalt (@pattonoswalt) April 15, 2016
I'm sorry guys, I'd happily vote for either of these candidates. But I'll try to be funnier live Tweeting this. #DemDebate — Patton Oswalt (@pattonoswalt) April 15, 2016Political addicts and commentators love live-tweeting political debates — hey, it's a great hobby. But no one seems to do it better than Patton Oswalt. Here's some of his best tweets from Thursday's Democratic debate between Hillary Clinton and Bernie Sanders in Brooklyn, New York.
"I HATE the way Hillary and Bernie talk. Their voices annoy me." -- Trump and Cruz voters. #DemDebate
— Patton Oswalt (@pattonoswalt) April 15, 2016
Guys, we'd be fine with either of these candidates as president. We'd be great. Stop your posturing, both sides. #DemDebate
— Patton Oswalt (@pattonoswalt) April 15, 2016
Bernie connects to millennials with his masterful use of winces and sighs. #DemDebate — Patton Oswalt (@pattonoswalt) April 15, 2016
My take on the #DemDebate: really looking forward to SNL this Saturday.
— Patton Oswalt (@pattonoswalt) April 15, 2016
The lung-wad Bernie almost just coughed up was formed during the Woodstock Festival. #DemDebate — Patton Oswalt (@pattonoswalt) April 15, 2016
What DON'T you cheer for, debate crowd? #DemDebate
— Patton Oswalt (@pattonoswalt) April 15, 2016
I'm sorry guys, I'd happily vote for either of these candidates. But I'll try to be funnier live Tweeting this. #DemDebate — Patton Oswalt (@pattonoswalt) April 15, 2016
From trade agreements to minimum wage, Hillary and Bernie scuffle over what’s destroying the middle class
During Thursday night's Democratic debate, Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders attacked Hillary Clinton for voting for trade agreements that, according to him, have destroyed the middle class. CNN's Wolf Blitzer asked Sanders how he would bring jobs back to the United States "without affecting the cost of goods," to which the senator replied that "for a start, we're going to raise the minimum wage to $15 an hour. While it is true, we may end up paying a few cents more for a hamburger -- what this economy needs is to rebuild jobs in the manufacturing sector." "This country cannot continue to sustain the loss of millions of decent paying jobs over the last 20 or thirty 30," Sanders said, "based on trade agreements for which Secretary Clinton has voted [for] almost every one of." Clinton replied that "I do have a comprehensive plan to create more jobs," and discussed a $10 million dollar plan that she believes "will jump start manufacturing." She also said she's "seen the results of government cooperating with business," a clear shot across Sanders' anti-corporate bow. She added that her plan, the details of which she didn't expound upon, would bring "more good jobs to more people, from inner cities to rural areas to every distressed community in America, and that's exactly what my plan would bring about." Watch Clinton and Sanders debate trade and the minimum wage here: [jwplayer file="http://media.salon.com/2016/04/4.14.1..." image="http://media.salon.com/2016/04/Screen... Thursday night's Democratic debate, Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders attacked Hillary Clinton for voting for trade agreements that, according to him, have destroyed the middle class. CNN's Wolf Blitzer asked Sanders how he would bring jobs back to the United States "without affecting the cost of goods," to which the senator replied that "for a start, we're going to raise the minimum wage to $15 an hour. While it is true, we may end up paying a few cents more for a hamburger -- what this economy needs is to rebuild jobs in the manufacturing sector." "This country cannot continue to sustain the loss of millions of decent paying jobs over the last 20 or thirty 30," Sanders said, "based on trade agreements for which Secretary Clinton has voted [for] almost every one of." Clinton replied that "I do have a comprehensive plan to create more jobs," and discussed a $10 million dollar plan that she believes "will jump start manufacturing." She also said she's "seen the results of government cooperating with business," a clear shot across Sanders' anti-corporate bow. She added that her plan, the details of which she didn't expound upon, would bring "more good jobs to more people, from inner cities to rural areas to every distressed community in America, and that's exactly what my plan would bring about." Watch Clinton and Sanders debate trade and the minimum wage here: [jwplayer file="http://media.salon.com/2016/04/4.14.1..." image="http://media.salon.com/2016/04/Screen... Thursday night's Democratic debate, Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders attacked Hillary Clinton for voting for trade agreements that, according to him, have destroyed the middle class. CNN's Wolf Blitzer asked Sanders how he would bring jobs back to the United States "without affecting the cost of goods," to which the senator replied that "for a start, we're going to raise the minimum wage to $15 an hour. While it is true, we may end up paying a few cents more for a hamburger -- what this economy needs is to rebuild jobs in the manufacturing sector." "This country cannot continue to sustain the loss of millions of decent paying jobs over the last 20 or thirty 30," Sanders said, "based on trade agreements for which Secretary Clinton has voted [for] almost every one of." Clinton replied that "I do have a comprehensive plan to create more jobs," and discussed a $10 million dollar plan that she believes "will jump start manufacturing." She also said she's "seen the results of government cooperating with business," a clear shot across Sanders' anti-corporate bow. She added that her plan, the details of which she didn't expound upon, would bring "more good jobs to more people, from inner cities to rural areas to every distressed community in America, and that's exactly what my plan would bring about." Watch Clinton and Sanders debate trade and the minimum wage here: [jwplayer file="http://media.salon.com/2016/04/4.14.1..." image="http://media.salon.com/2016/04/Screen...]
Fireworks over Wall Street at Democratic debate: Bernie Sanders rips Hillary Clinton for taking big-bank cash
CNN's Democratic debate is getting increasingly testy. In response to a question in which he was asked to name "one decision in which she, as a senator, favored banks because of the money she received." "Sure," Sanders replied a bit too generally, and then he started talking about the Great Depression. "That was my view my back," he said -- before suddenly twisted a knife it wasn't even apparent he had. "I introduced legislation to [prevent banks from being predatory] when Secretary Clinton was busy giving speeches to Goldman Sachs for $225,000 a speech." "The proper response, in my view, is that we should break them up," Sanders added. Clinton replied, as any good debater who knew she'd lost on merit would, that "he couldn't come up with any example," because a technicality is technically a win. "It is important, it may be inconvenient, to get the facts straight," she said. "I called [the banks] out on their mortgage behavior, and was willing to speak out about the special privileges they have under the tax code." She insisted that "you don't just break [the banks] up, because we have a law, we are a nation of laws. So I support Dodd-Frank, but I've consistently said we have to include the shadow banking sector." Sanders replied that "Secretary Clinton called them out, my goodness -- they must have been really crushed by this. Was this before or after you received huge sums of money speaking before them? They must have been very, very upset." "These banks, in my view, have been proven to be fraudulent organizations that are a danger to our economy," he continued. "If elected president, I will break them up, I have legislation to do that, end of discussion." Watch the entire exchange here: [jwplayer file="http://media.salon.com/2016/04/4.14.2..." image="http://media.salon.com/2016/04/Screen...] CNN's Democratic debate is getting increasingly testy. In response to a question in which he was asked to name "one decision in which she, as a senator, favored banks because of the money she received." "Sure," Sanders replied a bit too generally, and then he started talking about the Great Depression. "That was my view my back," he said -- before suddenly twisted a knife it wasn't even apparent he had. "I introduced legislation to [prevent banks from being predatory] when Secretary Clinton was busy giving speeches to Goldman Sachs for $225,000 a speech." "The proper response, in my view, is that we should break them up," Sanders added. Clinton replied, as any good debater who knew she'd lost on merit would, that "he couldn't come up with any example," because a technicality is technically a win. "It is important, it may be inconvenient, to get the facts straight," she said. "I called [the banks] out on their mortgage behavior, and was willing to speak out about the special privileges they have under the tax code." She insisted that "you don't just break [the banks] up, because we have a law, we are a nation of laws. So I support Dodd-Frank, but I've consistently said we have to include the shadow banking sector." Sanders replied that "Secretary Clinton called them out, my goodness -- they must have been really crushed by this. Was this before or after you received huge sums of money speaking before them? They must have been very, very upset." "These banks, in my view, have been proven to be fraudulent organizations that are a danger to our economy," he continued. "If elected president, I will break them up, I have legislation to do that, end of discussion." Watch the entire exchange here: [jwplayer file="http://media.salon.com/2016/04/4.14.2..." image="http://media.salon.com/2016/04/Screen...] CNN's Democratic debate is getting increasingly testy. In response to a question in which he was asked to name "one decision in which she, as a senator, favored banks because of the money she received." "Sure," Sanders replied a bit too generally, and then he started talking about the Great Depression. "That was my view my back," he said -- before suddenly twisted a knife it wasn't even apparent he had. "I introduced legislation to [prevent banks from being predatory] when Secretary Clinton was busy giving speeches to Goldman Sachs for $225,000 a speech." "The proper response, in my view, is that we should break them up," Sanders added. Clinton replied, as any good debater who knew she'd lost on merit would, that "he couldn't come up with any example," because a technicality is technically a win. "It is important, it may be inconvenient, to get the facts straight," she said. "I called [the banks] out on their mortgage behavior, and was willing to speak out about the special privileges they have under the tax code." She insisted that "you don't just break [the banks] up, because we have a law, we are a nation of laws. So I support Dodd-Frank, but I've consistently said we have to include the shadow banking sector." Sanders replied that "Secretary Clinton called them out, my goodness -- they must have been really crushed by this. Was this before or after you received huge sums of money speaking before them? They must have been very, very upset." "These banks, in my view, have been proven to be fraudulent organizations that are a danger to our economy," he continued. "If elected president, I will break them up, I have legislation to do that, end of discussion." Watch the entire exchange here: [jwplayer file="http://media.salon.com/2016/04/4.14.2..." image="http://media.salon.com/2016/04/Screen...] CNN's Democratic debate is getting increasingly testy. In response to a question in which he was asked to name "one decision in which she, as a senator, favored banks because of the money she received." "Sure," Sanders replied a bit too generally, and then he started talking about the Great Depression. "That was my view my back," he said -- before suddenly twisted a knife it wasn't even apparent he had. "I introduced legislation to [prevent banks from being predatory] when Secretary Clinton was busy giving speeches to Goldman Sachs for $225,000 a speech." "The proper response, in my view, is that we should break them up," Sanders added. Clinton replied, as any good debater who knew she'd lost on merit would, that "he couldn't come up with any example," because a technicality is technically a win. "It is important, it may be inconvenient, to get the facts straight," she said. "I called [the banks] out on their mortgage behavior, and was willing to speak out about the special privileges they have under the tax code." She insisted that "you don't just break [the banks] up, because we have a law, we are a nation of laws. So I support Dodd-Frank, but I've consistently said we have to include the shadow banking sector." Sanders replied that "Secretary Clinton called them out, my goodness -- they must have been really crushed by this. Was this before or after you received huge sums of money speaking before them? They must have been very, very upset." "These banks, in my view, have been proven to be fraudulent organizations that are a danger to our economy," he continued. "If elected president, I will break them up, I have legislation to do that, end of discussion." Watch the entire exchange here: [jwplayer file="http://media.salon.com/2016/04/4.14.2..." image="http://media.salon.com/2016/04/Screen...] CNN's Democratic debate is getting increasingly testy. In response to a question in which he was asked to name "one decision in which she, as a senator, favored banks because of the money she received." "Sure," Sanders replied a bit too generally, and then he started talking about the Great Depression. "That was my view my back," he said -- before suddenly twisted a knife it wasn't even apparent he had. "I introduced legislation to [prevent banks from being predatory] when Secretary Clinton was busy giving speeches to Goldman Sachs for $225,000 a speech." "The proper response, in my view, is that we should break them up," Sanders added. Clinton replied, as any good debater who knew she'd lost on merit would, that "he couldn't come up with any example," because a technicality is technically a win. "It is important, it may be inconvenient, to get the facts straight," she said. "I called [the banks] out on their mortgage behavior, and was willing to speak out about the special privileges they have under the tax code." She insisted that "you don't just break [the banks] up, because we have a law, we are a nation of laws. So I support Dodd-Frank, but I've consistently said we have to include the shadow banking sector." Sanders replied that "Secretary Clinton called them out, my goodness -- they must have been really crushed by this. Was this before or after you received huge sums of money speaking before them? They must have been very, very upset." "These banks, in my view, have been proven to be fraudulent organizations that are a danger to our economy," he continued. "If elected president, I will break them up, I have legislation to do that, end of discussion." Watch the entire exchange here: [jwplayer file="http://media.salon.com/2016/04/4.14.2..." image="http://media.salon.com/2016/04/Screen...]
Bernie and the Bolsheviks: Why the implications of Sanders’ “political revolution” go further than you think
On Wednesday night I attended the huge Bernie Sanders rally in Washington Square Park in Manhattan, where thousands of people crammed themselves into that historic quadrangle to hear the hoarse-voiced Vermont senator give the same speech he has given hundreds of times now. According to the Sanders campaign, 27,000 people turned out -- roughly equivalent to a mid-sized Yankee Stadium crowd -- and that doesn’t sound implausible. From where I was standing near the western edge of the park, Sanders himself was an illuminated matchstick figure, nearly a quarter-mile away. Spike Lee and Rosario Dawson and Tim Robbins warmed up the crowd, along with officials from the Communications Workers of America (currently on strike against Verizon) and the New York transit workers union, two large and diverse labor groups that have recently endorsed Sanders. People like me should have learned by now to be cautious about declaring a high-water mark to the Sanders campaign, since to Hillary Clinton’s chagrin it has proved unquenchable to this point. Clinton is clearly still favored in Tuesday’s decisive New York primary, but the polls have tightened noticeably, and the support of two activist unions that reach deep into the city’s African-American and Latino communities may make the race tighter still. Moving through the crowd, I was struck once again by what I first noticed in New Hampshire: Hillary Clinton is a political candidate; Bernie Sanders has galvanized a mass movement. As Clinton’s supporters will tell you, she has attracted more votes than Sanders, and may well do so again on Tuesday. But could she pull a crowd of 27,000 in Washington Square? She wouldn’t even try. Sanders represents the emergence of something that goes beyond winning or losing elections, a collective awareness that once upon a time would have been called “class consciousness.” This may be widely misinterpreted, and may land me a slot on Fox News, but I’m going to say it anyway: The split between Sanders and Clinton within the Democratic Party — or let’s say the “Democratic coalition,” since political parties are rapidly becoming irrelevant — is like a distorted mirror-image of the legendary split between the Bolsheviks and the Mensheviks, roughly 110 years ago, that preceded the Russian Revolution. Wait, hang on: I’m not saying that Bernie Sanders is a Lenin-in-waiting, or that he covertly supports the confiscation of all private wealth and property. (Can we pause a moment to acknowledge the remarkable fact that someone who did support those things might actually get votes in 2016?) In political terms, both Sanders and Clinton are Mensheviks at most (the ancestors of modern European social democrats, more or less), and not the most adventurous among them. Those Democratic loyalists who emphasize that the two candidates aren’t far apart on many issues, and that the difference between them is mostly a matter of symbolism and semantics, are partly right. But they fail to appreciate how deep that symbolic divide goes, and how much meaning it carries. The Bolsheviks and Mensheviks both wanted to "build socialism,” but one group went into parliamentary politics forever while the other overthrew the Romanov dynasty and then liberal democracy and tried to establish the “dictatorship of the proletariat.” Neither experiment worked out exactly as intended, but that would be an extremely long tangent. What I mean is that the division between Clinton and Sanders represents exactly the same ideological conflict, in the same form: How do we engage with a corrupt political and economic system that is showing signs of terminal decline? This is of course the political and strategic division between reform and revolution, a conflict which the Bolshevik faction of the Russian Social Democratic Labor Party (as it was then called) did not invent, and which has long outlasted it. On one hand, we find the idea that progressive change requires working within the ideological system that surrounds us, and the political and economic institutions it has enabled — either because those things represent an unalterable reality, or because we conclude that they cannot be changed right now, or because they are good and just and right. Hillary Clinton has seemingly embraced all three of those perspectives at various times and before various audiences: My hunch about her Goldman Sachs speeches is that the problem is less whatever substantive arguments she made to the Wall Street overlords than how she framed them. In any event, Clinton clearly represents the Democratic Party establishment as it was reshaped under her husband, which has irrevocably allied itself with neoliberal economics, finance capital, globalized free trade and the entire pseudo-imperialist military-industrial package sometimes called the “Washington consensus.” She didn’t know that those things would suddenly and inexplicably (in her view) become unpopular with much of the supposed Democratic base, and she could not plausibly pose as a spokesperson for revolutionary paradigm shift if she wanted to. (In fairness, she doesn’t want to.) Bernie Sanders’ repeated use of the term “revolution” is in some sense metaphorical, and in another sense conflicted or confusing. But it’s also deliberate: He is invoking the revolutionary tradition of the last three centuries, with its entire range of associations, without quite explaining what he means. He always says “political revolution,” to make clear that he doesn’t mean the kind of revolution that involves blowing up the old regime’s monuments and hanging its leaders from the lampposts. But what does he mean? Sanders’ specific proposals really don’t merit that term: Single-payer healthcare, free higher education for all, tighter regulation of financial markets and higher wages for working people all are, or were, mainstream positions within the recent history of Western politics. Sanders is advocating a wide-ranging package of political and economic reforms, to be sure, but nothing that comes close to the overthrow of our political institutions or the widespread seizure of capital. But to get from here to there, in the context of 21st-century America, requires a revolutionary shift in consciousness. Sanders speaks to, and speaks for, a large group of people who have arrived with unexpected rapidity at a consciousness of their own exploitation, and even their “immiseration,” to use a Marxist-Leninist term. They see the global economic and financial system produced by neoliberal fiscal policies and “free trade” as a massive con game designed to steal from the poor and give to the rich. They see the bipartisan political system of the United States as paralyzed, poisoned and all but powerless. Such a shift in consciousness is correctly perceived as dangerous by the elites behind our political parties and our economic system, but those are also difficult ideas to argue directly against, amid the chaos of 2016. (Jeb Bush took that line, with all the money in the world behind him, and look what happened.) After his own bizarre fashion, Donald Trump also represents a radical shift in consciousness, although from your perspective and mine it may look like a delusional shift toward a false consciousness. When Sanders suggests, sometimes by implication and sometimes directly, that the fundamental ideological precepts that have governed our social, economic and political lives since the Reagan era must be overthrown, that is indeed a call for revolution. Hillary Clinton has always been an amorphous politician leery of ideological labeling, but at her most effective moments of this campaign she has positioned herself as the decaf Bernie, a not-quite-revolutionary armed with less strident rhetoric, less radical proposals and a greater ability to get things done. I’ve been struggling through a recent revisionist biography called “Reconstructing Lenin,” by the Hungarian academic Tamás Krausz, which strives to rescue at least some of the Soviet founder’s political and philosophical insights from the long hangover of his failed state. It's a fascinating account with many points of surprising contemporary relevance, especially if you skip over the lengthy expositions of arcane debates within Marxist theory. (Despite his best efforts, Krausz can do little to change the perception that Lenin was a thin-skinned, arrogant jerk.) For all the enormous differences between early 20th-century Russia and early 21st-century America — not least the near-total disappearance of the “industrial proletariat,” at least as Lenin understood it — it strikes me that Lenin would have grasped the dynamics (or the dialectics) of the American left's current dilemma immediately. He was a shrewd and pragmatic tactician who spent much of his career navigating between strategies of reform and revolution, and grappling with the distance between incremental progress and ultimate goals. He was constantly bedeviled by the mysterious nature of “revolutionary class consciousness,” which appeared first and strongest among relatively privileged groups — the students and the intellectuals and what we would today call the downwardly mobile middle class — and only took hold later or not at all among the workers who stood to benefit most. Does any of that sound familiar? Lenin applied some of his most vicious rhetoric to the “foulness” of the kind of "bourgeois liberalism" that opportunistically attached itself to the fringes of the socialist movement, preaching the "renunciation of the class struggle" and the politics of "peace with the slave-owners." He hated such “class traitors” who undermined the cause of revolution more than he hated monarchists and right-wingers, who at least did not conceal their true motives. It’s almost hilariously similar to some of the exaggerated bile directed at Hillary Clinton, and in both cases the question of who was right and who was wrong defies any easy answer. As for those who feel sure that the revolutionary shift in consciousness revealed or channeled by Bernie Sanders is a transitory fad that will soon be swept aside, and that true social progress demands long and difficult work within existing political institutions, however diseased and dysfunctional they have become -- those people could be right. At least for now. That’s what the Mensheviks of 1907 thought too.
Rosario Dawson slams Hillary Clinton for her hypocrisy about Israel’s wall vs. Donald Trump’s Mexican wall
The Young Turks hosted a discussion of Hillary Clinton's foreign policy credentials with a group of activists last night, including Nomiki Konst, founder of the Accountability Project, and outspoken Bernie Sanders supporter Rosario Dawson. Host Cenk Uygur pointed out that Clinton is a firm believer in a "muscular" foreign policy. “It’s just that she believes in that concept. She believes in what she calls a muscular foreign policy and she wanted to emphasize to the press after the March 15 elections when she thought it was already all over, ‘Don’t worry, I willl be more muscular than Obama in foreign policy. It [Libya] wasn’t a mistake; that was the intention and the press has to be told not to worry, don’t worry, we’ll give you more wars." Actress and activist Rosario Dawson pointed out the hypocrisy of Clinton’s praise for Israel. “Trump is a horrible person because he wants to put a wall between [the U.S.] and Mexico. But that’s okay with [Hillary] when Netanyahu says he wants to do that between Israelis and Palestinians?” Dawson asked. “It reminds me of another secretary of state who said 500,000 dead Iraqi children was worth it. And I don’t understand [how Hillary is] good with children and women’s rights when [she] clearly hasn’t interviewed any Syrian children or Honduran children or Libyan children or Iraqi children. Why don’t they count? What is this line that is drawn?” Watch the video: This article originally appeared on alternet.org
The Young Turks hosted a discussion of Hillary Clinton's foreign policy credentials with a group of activists last night, including Nomiki Konst, founder of the Accountability Project, and outspoken Bernie Sanders supporter Rosario Dawson. Host Cenk Uygur pointed out that Clinton is a firm believer in a "muscular" foreign policy. “It’s just that she believes in that concept. She believes in what she calls a muscular foreign policy and she wanted to emphasize to the press after the March 15 elections when she thought it was already all over, ‘Don’t worry, I willl be more muscular than Obama in foreign policy. It [Libya] wasn’t a mistake; that was the intention and the press has to be told not to worry, don’t worry, we’ll give you more wars." Actress and activist Rosario Dawson pointed out the hypocrisy of Clinton’s praise for Israel. “Trump is a horrible person because he wants to put a wall between [the U.S.] and Mexico. But that’s okay with [Hillary] when Netanyahu says he wants to do that between Israelis and Palestinians?” Dawson asked. “It reminds me of another secretary of state who said 500,000 dead Iraqi children was worth it. And I don’t understand [how Hillary is] good with children and women’s rights when [she] clearly hasn’t interviewed any Syrian children or Honduran children or Libyan children or Iraqi children. Why don’t they count? What is this line that is drawn?” Watch the video: This article originally appeared on alternet.org
We failed Anita Hill: Decades after Clarence Thomas’ “Confirmation,” we still can’t handle talking about sexual harrassment
The timing of HBO’s original film “Confirmation,” debuting Saturday night, is accidentally quite appropriate. Naturally, any film about a Supreme Court nomination process — released in a major election year, when the next president will be appointing as many as four justices — is a relevant one. But “Confirmation” comes out just months after Justice Antonin Scalia was found dead at an exclusive hunting lodge in Texas, in the middle of one of the strangest presidential elections in history — and in a political era of weaponized identity politics, where candidates can run on a platform of excluding a whole religion and deporting an ethnicity but will be excoriated for running as a member of a marginalized minority, whether that is a woman, a Latino, a Jewish person, or any combination thereof. Much like “The People V. O.J. Simpson: American Crime Story,” “Confirmation” aims to recreate a media circus from the ‘90s that most of its viewers already lived through (albeit with varying recollection or understanding of the topic). It is not nearly as adroit with the hairpin curves of tone, fact, and sympathy that “The People V. O.J. Simpson” delivered with so much verve. But in some ways, it comes to “The People V. O.J. Simpson”’s natural conclusion with much more efficiency; where the FX miniseries (brilliantly) allowed its viewer to hope, “Confirmation” is tinged with despair from the start. It makes for a less entertaining rollercoaster, but one that delivers the more relevant punch for the modern viewer. The punch, in question, is this: Do we, as a society, know how to talk about sexual harassment? The answer, as framed by “Confirmation,” is emphatically no; the film depicts the end of the hearings less as a calculated fallback on the parts of the major players and more as an inability to keep going and maintain any sense of wholeness or dignity. The Clarence Thomas confirmation hearings brought several unsolvable things together for the American populace—the nastiness of politics, the prevalence of sexual harassment, the complexities of racial representation, and the careerism of the ‘80s—into one neat little package. (You can see how the confused climate of that media circus was just table dressing for the O.J. Simpson trial; “Confirmation” and “The People V. O.J. Simpson” would make a great double feature about how fraught the meeting between media and justice can be.) And the story is—as it continually seems to be—that the country couldn’t handle it. “Confirmation” delivers no flashbacks to the incidents where Clarence Thomas (Wendell Pierce, in the film) allegedly sexually harassed Anita Hill (Kerry Washington) — accusations which include talking about pornography, his own sexual prowess, and the size of various women’s breasts. The audience of “Confirmation” receives the same he-said/she-said that viewers at the time did, albeit with a few more long, still shots of isolation. Thomas gardens in his yard with a laser-like, blinders-on intensity; Hill stares into the distance, with that combination of fragility and strength that has made Washington such a success on Shonda Rhimes’ “Scandal.” Both are enclosed in their own hermetically sealed points of view, and neither can quite be reconciled with the other; the audience is made witness to their exteriority, but can’t quite crack what is underneath. As with so many exercises of historification, there is an almost gleeful presentation of the notable moments of the confirmation hearings, such as Senator Orrin Hatch (Dylan Baker)’s reading of “The Exorcist” during Thomas’ testimony and Senator Ted Kennedy (Treat Williams)’s impassioned declaration to focus on harassment during the proceedings. Everyone wears very bad wigs and worse fashion. Thomas and his wife Virginia (Alison Wright) prepare for the hearing with a short meeting in the only private place left in the Capitol—a bathroom. And yes, Kerry Washington has to say “Long Dong Silver.” It’s this last, though, that cuts through some of the cheese. “Confirmation” is a bit indulgent, as many made-for-TV films are. The words “Long Dong Silver,” in the mouth of another actor, would be (and are, in the film) delivered with a derisive snarl or a note of the ridiculous. In Washington’s delivery, it is poised and pained horror—an uncomfortable, long-buried memory, dragged out to become public ridicule. Opposite Greg Kinnear’s Senator Joe Biden—the ineffectual chair of the Judiciary Committee, whose balding pate and hangdog look practically summons the “Benny Hill” theme—Washington’s Anita Hill is a stalwart bastion of compassion, the grave human center of the circus. Biden—now Vice President Biden, of course—is the film’s villain, if there is a villain at all. It’s a bit of a shock, because bumbling ol’ Biden has become a kind of liberal mascot, both adorably ineffectual and predictably loyal. But before ascending to the glorified retirement of the vice presidency, the Anita Hill hearings always dogged him. In “Strange Justice,” a history of the Clarence Thomas confirmation process written by Jill Abramson and Jane Mayer, he acknowledges that he acted “in fairness to Thomas, which in retrospect he didn’t deserve.” Kate Phillips observed in 2008 that when then-candidate Barack Obama criticized the appointment of Justice Thomas, it brought renewed scrutiny to his running mate’s handling of the situation. So does “Confirmation.” To my mind, Biden—at least in the way he’s portrayed in “Confirmation”—is the classic hypocrite who chirps, perhaps apocryphally, that “you gotta hear both sides.” It’s a reading that willfully ignores power imbalance. But if “Confirmation” makes clear that Biden erred, it also makes clear from the moment he gets wind of Hill’s story, he’s in over his head. The judiciary committee is comprised of 14 white men, facing down first one petite black woman and then a lone black man. Who could possibly be less qualified to weigh in on the issue of “a high-tech lynching,” or on why a woman would not report years-long harassment from her employer? The Thomas confirmation hearings existed in a weird extra-judicial space where they were not a trial, but felt like one; only instead of a jury making a decision, it was the far less reliable pool of 100 senators, casting each aye or nay vote. Thomas has the backing of the Bush administration and the united front of the Republican party. Politically, Biden, as the Democrat chair, could have been on Hill’s side (or at least, not on Thomas’ side), but he opted to play judge. That left Hill alone, and “Confirmation” is careful to depict her that way, bolstered by occasional friends and lieutenants but otherwise very much the single career woman, facing classrooms and press conferences and the judiciary committee with the same level gaze. It weighs on the viewer’s conscience. Two of her friends, watching her speak, deliver a concise appraisal of what it means to be female and under scrutiny: One says, "You think she should be more emotional?" The other replies: “If she were, you’d be saying, ‘She should be less emotional.’” “Confirmation” watches as Biden kowtows to the Bush administration’s demands that Thomas get the chance to testify to the hearing first, despite that flying in the face of common sense; he quashes a second accuser, Angela Wright (Jennifer Hudson), because he can’t bear to have the story continue to unfold. Biden is depicted as troubled by the tenor of the conversation, and assailed, in some way, by growing public frustration with the once-hallowed halls of government. In Kinnear’s hands, as the official calling the shots, he’s less malicious than desperately impotent—in a way that could be hilarious, if the stakes weren’t so high, if it weren’t so eerily close to home. His demeanor in “Confirmation” is of a man slowly realizing the extent of the moral bankruptcy of government. So in order to cope with it, he chooses to uphold the integrity of the status quo, no matter how sexist, flawed, or inclusive of abuse it is. And more than now-Justice Thomas' brooding, mysterious silence, it’s this ducking of the issue at hand that feels like the worst injustice. The decision to end the hearings felt unsavory at the time; it has done nothing but molder in hindsight. It feels like something important was snatched away from the American public; even the lukewarm comfort of a trial with a verdict is denied. The film, like the hearings, ends somewhat anticlimactically, with a sense that the quashed proceedings paved the way for Democratic victories and a huge influx of female politicians in the 1992 cycle. Above all is a grand sense of a missed opportunity; for an overturned nomination, or more nebulously, for change, yes. But even an acknowledgement of sexual harassment, and what it means, by the highest authorities in the world, would have maybe been a start.
“When Csanad came in for Yom Kippur, people walked out”: The remarkable transformation of an anti-Semite extremist who didn’t know he was Jewish
Csanad Szegedi is a former right-wing extremist, who rose to power in Hungary and helped found the Hungarian Guard. He eventually became second-in-command of the Jobbik party—even getting a seat in European Parliament. Then, it was revealed his grandmother was Jewish, and a survivor of Auschwitz. Szegedi made an about-face; he embraced his Jewish roots. He started learning about Judaism, and was even circumcised. He started atoning for his sins, hoping to find support with the Jewish people he once hated. While Rabbi Boruch Oberlander assists Szegedi in his efforts, giving the former anti-Semite a chance to repent and do penance, others are less inclined to support Szegedi’s efforts, doubting the sincerity of his transformation. The new documentary, “Keep Quiet” by Joseph Martin and Sam Blair, which makes its world premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival, chronicles Szegedi’s story, and his experiences reinventing his identity and searching for belonging. Szegedi and Rabi Oberlander spoke with Salon about this remarkable transformation. Csanad, many people doubt the credibility of your transformation. Why is it difficult to believe a man like you can undergo extreme change? Szegedi: This transformation has a certain depth and time span [3 years]. The depth and profoundness of this transformation is too big for such a short time span. I don't know what people think, but this change has been big and that comes out of the film. Many people may think I started something and I completed it but in fact, I have only just started on this path. Why did you want to make this film that chronicles your experiences? How did the project come about? Did you feel it was a way to convince folks? Szegedi: Everybody can doubt, and they are free to doubt, and I don't want to convince anyone. I've started a process in my life and many people find it interesting. A lot of people told me my change may inspire other people. Many people came to me because they wanted to make a film, but I didn't want a Hungarian production because I wanted objectivity. I don't think the film should reflect a political side, and the filmmakers guaranteed objectivity, which is why I agreed to make this film. It seems you were susceptible to anti-Semitism when you were young, that you needed a cause and you found Jobbik. What was the appeal of that group? Szegedi: When I was a student at university, I went to live in Budapest. I grew up in the countryside. In those days, I had a conservative right-wing way of thinking. At university, I met the other young people with whom I made this party, Jobbik. These friends grew to include more people, and as more people with these extreme-right views joined us, Jobbik became more and more extreme right. I was young, in my 20s, and we could continuously identify with these ideas. I was receptive to anti-Semitism as well. The roots of anti-Semitism is a complex question--if I think about why I was open to these thoughts, it was because I had never met any Jews before and therefore I could believe all the stereotypes of these people. I read a lot of extreme-right books that were written before the war. I saw propagandistic films. Before the change of regime in 1989, you couldn't talk about anti-Semitism, and after the regime change, people started to talk about taboo subjects. I was 8 years old in those days, and later, in politics and society, these extreme wright ideologies got stronger--the skinhead movement was started, a lot of ex-Nazis emigrated and financially supported these extreme right movements in Hungary. It’s often the case that people fear who or what they don’t know. Given your experiences in the Jobbik party, have you changed your mind about hatred towards other minority targets like Roma gypsies? Szegedi: Of course, its a long process. As I'm getting to know Judaism, my view of the whole world is changing. I got into the situation where I was extreme right. It turned out that my mother is Jewish, my grandmother is Jewish. I am Jewish. So I can't hate Jewish people. But it could also have been the case that I would have been a Roma gypsy, or some other minority. Judaism teaches everyone tolerance towards everyone. Yes, I can say it's true that if I want to understand a certain minority, I need to meet them and get to know them. I went to see Roma people in Hungary, so I could understand them. You talk about symbols being used to represent the right wing party in Hungary. Judaism (like every religion) has rituals and symbols. Do you feel you traded one set of meanings in for another? Szegedi: When I belonged to Jobbik, I didn't wear a kippa and I didn't light Hannukah candles. Putting aside that joke, it's a change in lifestyle. When I belonged to Jobbik, I used to have a shop selling nationalist symbols on t-shirts. I closed the shop when this change started and then I destroyed all the products. I haven't opened a shop with Jewish symbols yet, but...Of course, we think of symbols, I now put on tefillin and wear a kippa... Your Grandmother tells you to “keep quiet” about being Jewish; that she feels there will always be people against the Jews. You had your Judaism announced publicly. And you have not “kept quiet” about it, making this film. Do you feel this was the best option in your situation? Rabbi Oberlander tell you that if you are wrong, admit it. You have. But you still face many battles… Szegedi: I asked my grandmother how a Hungarian Jewish person can experience being Jewish. My grandmother answered was the only choice was to "keep quiet." I can understand her because she was a Holocaust survivor, and for her survival, she had to keep quiet. But I didn't obey my grandmother when I was a child, and in this case, I don't obey her either. You give a speech, seen in the film, likening Judaism to a flower. Did you you apply the same kind of rhetoric you did in Jobbik to Judaism? Szegedi: The idea of Judaism as a flower, it a message for Jewish people, talking about the future. Many people associate Judaism with old and dry laws, and the Holocaust. But with this metaphor, Judaism for me is useful, pleasant, and fills me with good feelings. The Jewish people have to get rid of their fears so they see the positive things and they need to dare to look at the world through their Judaism. I used my talent as a speaker giving lectures to young people at schools in Hungary and I speak against hatred and anti-Semitism. Its part of the institution of teshuva, if you make a mistake, you have to restore it as you can. You talk as long as you are listened to. Rabbi Oberlander, your first reaction to being approached by Csanad was “What am I supposed to tell him?” How did you find the strength or even courage, to accept Csanad and help him embrace his Judaism? Oberlander: I had just finished studying the question as an abstract question, I wrote a long responsum about this question in Jewish law, that I got the call he wants to meet. I thought it was a bad joke. I learned from the Lubavitch Rebbe that he was a strong believer. He believed in God, but also that he strongly believed in man--that people have the ability to change and the strength to do it if they really want to. That's what I tried to apply. It was not an easy decision. I had many sleepless nights, but I still believe I didn't make a mistake. What can you say about the Jewish traditions of tikkun olam, or communal social responsibility? The word means fixing/rectification. I see this case being an extreme but plausible example of that. Oberlander: Responsibility means that a person has to act on his convictions. They have to be able to decide and be able to do what is right. But they also have to act when they realize they were wrong. This is a special strength that God gave us. Changing can mean 5 or 10 degrees, or 180 degrees. It's not simple. I saw how hard it is. But if you are committed, and need some help... I sat with Csanad for 2 hours every Friday, and he is not at the end of his journey. He is doing well, and with God's help, I think he will do even better. There is concern that Csanad is not sincere in his beliefs. Are you worried that if he renounces his Judaism, that will reflect badly on you as a Rabbi? How much responsibility to you feel towards Csanad? Oberlander: A Rabbi should never work based on what's good for public relations. A Rabbi has to live with his convictions. If it's not popular, it's not popular. When Csanad came in for Yom Kippur, people walked out. His presence was not popular with a lot of people, even between the Rabbis. A Lubavitch Rebbe once told me you have to love every Jew--the most wicked Jew the same as the most devout Jew. With Csanad, I found the most wicked Jew. You have to love everyone and give everyone the chance to change.Csanad Szegedi is a former right-wing extremist, who rose to power in Hungary and helped found the Hungarian Guard. He eventually became second-in-command of the Jobbik party—even getting a seat in European Parliament. Then, it was revealed his grandmother was Jewish, and a survivor of Auschwitz. Szegedi made an about-face; he embraced his Jewish roots. He started learning about Judaism, and was even circumcised. He started atoning for his sins, hoping to find support with the Jewish people he once hated. While Rabbi Boruch Oberlander assists Szegedi in his efforts, giving the former anti-Semite a chance to repent and do penance, others are less inclined to support Szegedi’s efforts, doubting the sincerity of his transformation. The new documentary, “Keep Quiet” by Joseph Martin and Sam Blair, which makes its world premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival, chronicles Szegedi’s story, and his experiences reinventing his identity and searching for belonging. Szegedi and Rabi Oberlander spoke with Salon about this remarkable transformation. Csanad, many people doubt the credibility of your transformation. Why is it difficult to believe a man like you can undergo extreme change? Szegedi: This transformation has a certain depth and time span [3 years]. The depth and profoundness of this transformation is too big for such a short time span. I don't know what people think, but this change has been big and that comes out of the film. Many people may think I started something and I completed it but in fact, I have only just started on this path. Why did you want to make this film that chronicles your experiences? How did the project come about? Did you feel it was a way to convince folks? Szegedi: Everybody can doubt, and they are free to doubt, and I don't want to convince anyone. I've started a process in my life and many people find it interesting. A lot of people told me my change may inspire other people. Many people came to me because they wanted to make a film, but I didn't want a Hungarian production because I wanted objectivity. I don't think the film should reflect a political side, and the filmmakers guaranteed objectivity, which is why I agreed to make this film. It seems you were susceptible to anti-Semitism when you were young, that you needed a cause and you found Jobbik. What was the appeal of that group? Szegedi: When I was a student at university, I went to live in Budapest. I grew up in the countryside. In those days, I had a conservative right-wing way of thinking. At university, I met the other young people with whom I made this party, Jobbik. These friends grew to include more people, and as more people with these extreme-right views joined us, Jobbik became more and more extreme right. I was young, in my 20s, and we could continuously identify with these ideas. I was receptive to anti-Semitism as well. The roots of anti-Semitism is a complex question--if I think about why I was open to these thoughts, it was because I had never met any Jews before and therefore I could believe all the stereotypes of these people. I read a lot of extreme-right books that were written before the war. I saw propagandistic films. Before the change of regime in 1989, you couldn't talk about anti-Semitism, and after the regime change, people started to talk about taboo subjects. I was 8 years old in those days, and later, in politics and society, these extreme wright ideologies got stronger--the skinhead movement was started, a lot of ex-Nazis emigrated and financially supported these extreme right movements in Hungary. It’s often the case that people fear who or what they don’t know. Given your experiences in the Jobbik party, have you changed your mind about hatred towards other minority targets like Roma gypsies? Szegedi: Of course, its a long process. As I'm getting to know Judaism, my view of the whole world is changing. I got into the situation where I was extreme right. It turned out that my mother is Jewish, my grandmother is Jewish. I am Jewish. So I can't hate Jewish people. But it could also have been the case that I would have been a Roma gypsy, or some other minority. Judaism teaches everyone tolerance towards everyone. Yes, I can say it's true that if I want to understand a certain minority, I need to meet them and get to know them. I went to see Roma people in Hungary, so I could understand them. You talk about symbols being used to represent the right wing party in Hungary. Judaism (like every religion) has rituals and symbols. Do you feel you traded one set of meanings in for another? Szegedi: When I belonged to Jobbik, I didn't wear a kippa and I didn't light Hannukah candles. Putting aside that joke, it's a change in lifestyle. When I belonged to Jobbik, I used to have a shop selling nationalist symbols on t-shirts. I closed the shop when this change started and then I destroyed all the products. I haven't opened a shop with Jewish symbols yet, but...Of course, we think of symbols, I now put on tefillin and wear a kippa... Your Grandmother tells you to “keep quiet” about being Jewish; that she feels there will always be people against the Jews. You had your Judaism announced publicly. And you have not “kept quiet” about it, making this film. Do you feel this was the best option in your situation? Rabbi Oberlander tell you that if you are wrong, admit it. You have. But you still face many battles… Szegedi: I asked my grandmother how a Hungarian Jewish person can experience being Jewish. My grandmother answered was the only choice was to "keep quiet." I can understand her because she was a Holocaust survivor, and for her survival, she had to keep quiet. But I didn't obey my grandmother when I was a child, and in this case, I don't obey her either. You give a speech, seen in the film, likening Judaism to a flower. Did you you apply the same kind of rhetoric you did in Jobbik to Judaism? Szegedi: The idea of Judaism as a flower, it a message for Jewish people, talking about the future. Many people associate Judaism with old and dry laws, and the Holocaust. But with this metaphor, Judaism for me is useful, pleasant, and fills me with good feelings. The Jewish people have to get rid of their fears so they see the positive things and they need to dare to look at the world through their Judaism. I used my talent as a speaker giving lectures to young people at schools in Hungary and I speak against hatred and anti-Semitism. Its part of the institution of teshuva, if you make a mistake, you have to restore it as you can. You talk as long as you are listened to. Rabbi Oberlander, your first reaction to being approached by Csanad was “What am I supposed to tell him?” How did you find the strength or even courage, to accept Csanad and help him embrace his Judaism? Oberlander: I had just finished studying the question as an abstract question, I wrote a long responsum about this question in Jewish law, that I got the call he wants to meet. I thought it was a bad joke. I learned from the Lubavitch Rebbe that he was a strong believer. He believed in God, but also that he strongly believed in man--that people have the ability to change and the strength to do it if they really want to. That's what I tried to apply. It was not an easy decision. I had many sleepless nights, but I still believe I didn't make a mistake. What can you say about the Jewish traditions of tikkun olam, or communal social responsibility? The word means fixing/rectification. I see this case being an extreme but plausible example of that. Oberlander: Responsibility means that a person has to act on his convictions. They have to be able to decide and be able to do what is right. But they also have to act when they realize they were wrong. This is a special strength that God gave us. Changing can mean 5 or 10 degrees, or 180 degrees. It's not simple. I saw how hard it is. But if you are committed, and need some help... I sat with Csanad for 2 hours every Friday, and he is not at the end of his journey. He is doing well, and with God's help, I think he will do even better. There is concern that Csanad is not sincere in his beliefs. Are you worried that if he renounces his Judaism, that will reflect badly on you as a Rabbi? How much responsibility to you feel towards Csanad? Oberlander: A Rabbi should never work based on what's good for public relations. A Rabbi has to live with his convictions. If it's not popular, it's not popular. When Csanad came in for Yom Kippur, people walked out. His presence was not popular with a lot of people, even between the Rabbis. A Lubavitch Rebbe once told me you have to love every Jew--the most wicked Jew the same as the most devout Jew. With Csanad, I found the most wicked Jew. You have to love everyone and give everyone the chance to change.Csanad Szegedi is a former right-wing extremist, who rose to power in Hungary and helped found the Hungarian Guard. He eventually became second-in-command of the Jobbik party—even getting a seat in European Parliament. Then, it was revealed his grandmother was Jewish, and a survivor of Auschwitz. Szegedi made an about-face; he embraced his Jewish roots. He started learning about Judaism, and was even circumcised. He started atoning for his sins, hoping to find support with the Jewish people he once hated. While Rabbi Boruch Oberlander assists Szegedi in his efforts, giving the former anti-Semite a chance to repent and do penance, others are less inclined to support Szegedi’s efforts, doubting the sincerity of his transformation. The new documentary, “Keep Quiet” by Joseph Martin and Sam Blair, which makes its world premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival, chronicles Szegedi’s story, and his experiences reinventing his identity and searching for belonging. Szegedi and Rabi Oberlander spoke with Salon about this remarkable transformation. Csanad, many people doubt the credibility of your transformation. Why is it difficult to believe a man like you can undergo extreme change? Szegedi: This transformation has a certain depth and time span [3 years]. The depth and profoundness of this transformation is too big for such a short time span. I don't know what people think, but this change has been big and that comes out of the film. Many people may think I started something and I completed it but in fact, I have only just started on this path. Why did you want to make this film that chronicles your experiences? How did the project come about? Did you feel it was a way to convince folks? Szegedi: Everybody can doubt, and they are free to doubt, and I don't want to convince anyone. I've started a process in my life and many people find it interesting. A lot of people told me my change may inspire other people. Many people came to me because they wanted to make a film, but I didn't want a Hungarian production because I wanted objectivity. I don't think the film should reflect a political side, and the filmmakers guaranteed objectivity, which is why I agreed to make this film. It seems you were susceptible to anti-Semitism when you were young, that you needed a cause and you found Jobbik. What was the appeal of that group? Szegedi: When I was a student at university, I went to live in Budapest. I grew up in the countryside. In those days, I had a conservative right-wing way of thinking. At university, I met the other young people with whom I made this party, Jobbik. These friends grew to include more people, and as more people with these extreme-right views joined us, Jobbik became more and more extreme right. I was young, in my 20s, and we could continuously identify with these ideas. I was receptive to anti-Semitism as well. The roots of anti-Semitism is a complex question--if I think about why I was open to these thoughts, it was because I had never met any Jews before and therefore I could believe all the stereotypes of these people. I read a lot of extreme-right books that were written before the war. I saw propagandistic films. Before the change of regime in 1989, you couldn't talk about anti-Semitism, and after the regime change, people started to talk about taboo subjects. I was 8 years old in those days, and later, in politics and society, these extreme wright ideologies got stronger--the skinhead movement was started, a lot of ex-Nazis emigrated and financially supported these extreme right movements in Hungary. It’s often the case that people fear who or what they don’t know. Given your experiences in the Jobbik party, have you changed your mind about hatred towards other minority targets like Roma gypsies? Szegedi: Of course, its a long process. As I'm getting to know Judaism, my view of the whole world is changing. I got into the situation where I was extreme right. It turned out that my mother is Jewish, my grandmother is Jewish. I am Jewish. So I can't hate Jewish people. But it could also have been the case that I would have been a Roma gypsy, or some other minority. Judaism teaches everyone tolerance towards everyone. Yes, I can say it's true that if I want to understand a certain minority, I need to meet them and get to know them. I went to see Roma people in Hungary, so I could understand them. You talk about symbols being used to represent the right wing party in Hungary. Judaism (like every religion) has rituals and symbols. Do you feel you traded one set of meanings in for another? Szegedi: When I belonged to Jobbik, I didn't wear a kippa and I didn't light Hannukah candles. Putting aside that joke, it's a change in lifestyle. When I belonged to Jobbik, I used to have a shop selling nationalist symbols on t-shirts. I closed the shop when this change started and then I destroyed all the products. I haven't opened a shop with Jewish symbols yet, but...Of course, we think of symbols, I now put on tefillin and wear a kippa... Your Grandmother tells you to “keep quiet” about being Jewish; that she feels there will always be people against the Jews. You had your Judaism announced publicly. And you have not “kept quiet” about it, making this film. Do you feel this was the best option in your situation? Rabbi Oberlander tell you that if you are wrong, admit it. You have. But you still face many battles… Szegedi: I asked my grandmother how a Hungarian Jewish person can experience being Jewish. My grandmother answered was the only choice was to "keep quiet." I can understand her because she was a Holocaust survivor, and for her survival, she had to keep quiet. But I didn't obey my grandmother when I was a child, and in this case, I don't obey her either. You give a speech, seen in the film, likening Judaism to a flower. Did you you apply the same kind of rhetoric you did in Jobbik to Judaism? Szegedi: The idea of Judaism as a flower, it a message for Jewish people, talking about the future. Many people associate Judaism with old and dry laws, and the Holocaust. But with this metaphor, Judaism for me is useful, pleasant, and fills me with good feelings. The Jewish people have to get rid of their fears so they see the positive things and they need to dare to look at the world through their Judaism. I used my talent as a speaker giving lectures to young people at schools in Hungary and I speak against hatred and anti-Semitism. Its part of the institution of teshuva, if you make a mistake, you have to restore it as you can. You talk as long as you are listened to. Rabbi Oberlander, your first reaction to being approached by Csanad was “What am I supposed to tell him?” How did you find the strength or even courage, to accept Csanad and help him embrace his Judaism? Oberlander: I had just finished studying the question as an abstract question, I wrote a long responsum about this question in Jewish law, that I got the call he wants to meet. I thought it was a bad joke. I learned from the Lubavitch Rebbe that he was a strong believer. He believed in God, but also that he strongly believed in man--that people have the ability to change and the strength to do it if they really want to. That's what I tried to apply. It was not an easy decision. I had many sleepless nights, but I still believe I didn't make a mistake. What can you say about the Jewish traditions of tikkun olam, or communal social responsibility? The word means fixing/rectification. I see this case being an extreme but plausible example of that. Oberlander: Responsibility means that a person has to act on his convictions. They have to be able to decide and be able to do what is right. But they also have to act when they realize they were wrong. This is a special strength that God gave us. Changing can mean 5 or 10 degrees, or 180 degrees. It's not simple. I saw how hard it is. But if you are committed, and need some help... I sat with Csanad for 2 hours every Friday, and he is not at the end of his journey. He is doing well, and with God's help, I think he will do even better. There is concern that Csanad is not sincere in his beliefs. Are you worried that if he renounces his Judaism, that will reflect badly on you as a Rabbi? How much responsibility to you feel towards Csanad? Oberlander: A Rabbi should never work based on what's good for public relations. A Rabbi has to live with his convictions. If it's not popular, it's not popular. When Csanad came in for Yom Kippur, people walked out. His presence was not popular with a lot of people, even between the Rabbis. A Lubavitch Rebbe once told me you have to love every Jew--the most wicked Jew the same as the most devout Jew. With Csanad, I found the most wicked Jew. You have to love everyone and give everyone the chance to change.Csanad Szegedi is a former right-wing extremist, who rose to power in Hungary and helped found the Hungarian Guard. He eventually became second-in-command of the Jobbik party—even getting a seat in European Parliament. Then, it was revealed his grandmother was Jewish, and a survivor of Auschwitz. Szegedi made an about-face; he embraced his Jewish roots. He started learning about Judaism, and was even circumcised. He started atoning for his sins, hoping to find support with the Jewish people he once hated. While Rabbi Boruch Oberlander assists Szegedi in his efforts, giving the former anti-Semite a chance to repent and do penance, others are less inclined to support Szegedi’s efforts, doubting the sincerity of his transformation. The new documentary, “Keep Quiet” by Joseph Martin and Sam Blair, which makes its world premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival, chronicles Szegedi’s story, and his experiences reinventing his identity and searching for belonging. Szegedi and Rabi Oberlander spoke with Salon about this remarkable transformation. Csanad, many people doubt the credibility of your transformation. Why is it difficult to believe a man like you can undergo extreme change? Szegedi: This transformation has a certain depth and time span [3 years]. The depth and profoundness of this transformation is too big for such a short time span. I don't know what people think, but this change has been big and that comes out of the film. Many people may think I started something and I completed it but in fact, I have only just started on this path. Why did you want to make this film that chronicles your experiences? How did the project come about? Did you feel it was a way to convince folks? Szegedi: Everybody can doubt, and they are free to doubt, and I don't want to convince anyone. I've started a process in my life and many people find it interesting. A lot of people told me my change may inspire other people. Many people came to me because they wanted to make a film, but I didn't want a Hungarian production because I wanted objectivity. I don't think the film should reflect a political side, and the filmmakers guaranteed objectivity, which is why I agreed to make this film. It seems you were susceptible to anti-Semitism when you were young, that you needed a cause and you found Jobbik. What was the appeal of that group? Szegedi: When I was a student at university, I went to live in Budapest. I grew up in the countryside. In those days, I had a conservative right-wing way of thinking. At university, I met the other young people with whom I made this party, Jobbik. These friends grew to include more people, and as more people with these extreme-right views joined us, Jobbik became more and more extreme right. I was young, in my 20s, and we could continuously identify with these ideas. I was receptive to anti-Semitism as well. The roots of anti-Semitism is a complex question--if I think about why I was open to these thoughts, it was because I had never met any Jews before and therefore I could believe all the stereotypes of these people. I read a lot of extreme-right books that were written before the war. I saw propagandistic films. Before the change of regime in 1989, you couldn't talk about anti-Semitism, and after the regime change, people started to talk about taboo subjects. I was 8 years old in those days, and later, in politics and society, these extreme wright ideologies got stronger--the skinhead movement was started, a lot of ex-Nazis emigrated and financially supported these extreme right movements in Hungary. It’s often the case that people fear who or what they don’t know. Given your experiences in the Jobbik party, have you changed your mind about hatred towards other minority targets like Roma gypsies? Szegedi: Of course, its a long process. As I'm getting to know Judaism, my view of the whole world is changing. I got into the situation where I was extreme right. It turned out that my mother is Jewish, my grandmother is Jewish. I am Jewish. So I can't hate Jewish people. But it could also have been the case that I would have been a Roma gypsy, or some other minority. Judaism teaches everyone tolerance towards everyone. Yes, I can say it's true that if I want to understand a certain minority, I need to meet them and get to know them. I went to see Roma people in Hungary, so I could understand them. You talk about symbols being used to represent the right wing party in Hungary. Judaism (like every religion) has rituals and symbols. Do you feel you traded one set of meanings in for another? Szegedi: When I belonged to Jobbik, I didn't wear a kippa and I didn't light Hannukah candles. Putting aside that joke, it's a change in lifestyle. When I belonged to Jobbik, I used to have a shop selling nationalist symbols on t-shirts. I closed the shop when this change started and then I destroyed all the products. I haven't opened a shop with Jewish symbols yet, but...Of course, we think of symbols, I now put on tefillin and wear a kippa... Your Grandmother tells you to “keep quiet” about being Jewish; that she feels there will always be people against the Jews. You had your Judaism announced publicly. And you have not “kept quiet” about it, making this film. Do you feel this was the best option in your situation? Rabbi Oberlander tell you that if you are wrong, admit it. You have. But you still face many battles… Szegedi: I asked my grandmother how a Hungarian Jewish person can experience being Jewish. My grandmother answered was the only choice was to "keep quiet." I can understand her because she was a Holocaust survivor, and for her survival, she had to keep quiet. But I didn't obey my grandmother when I was a child, and in this case, I don't obey her either. You give a speech, seen in the film, likening Judaism to a flower. Did you you apply the same kind of rhetoric you did in Jobbik to Judaism? Szegedi: The idea of Judaism as a flower, it a message for Jewish people, talking about the future. Many people associate Judaism with old and dry laws, and the Holocaust. But with this metaphor, Judaism for me is useful, pleasant, and fills me with good feelings. The Jewish people have to get rid of their fears so they see the positive things and they need to dare to look at the world through their Judaism. I used my talent as a speaker giving lectures to young people at schools in Hungary and I speak against hatred and anti-Semitism. Its part of the institution of teshuva, if you make a mistake, you have to restore it as you can. You talk as long as you are listened to. Rabbi Oberlander, your first reaction to being approached by Csanad was “What am I supposed to tell him?” How did you find the strength or even courage, to accept Csanad and help him embrace his Judaism? Oberlander: I had just finished studying the question as an abstract question, I wrote a long responsum about this question in Jewish law, that I got the call he wants to meet. I thought it was a bad joke. I learned from the Lubavitch Rebbe that he was a strong believer. He believed in God, but also that he strongly believed in man--that people have the ability to change and the strength to do it if they really want to. That's what I tried to apply. It was not an easy decision. I had many sleepless nights, but I still believe I didn't make a mistake. What can you say about the Jewish traditions of tikkun olam, or communal social responsibility? The word means fixing/rectification. I see this case being an extreme but plausible example of that. Oberlander: Responsibility means that a person has to act on his convictions. They have to be able to decide and be able to do what is right. But they also have to act when they realize they were wrong. This is a special strength that God gave us. Changing can mean 5 or 10 degrees, or 180 degrees. It's not simple. I saw how hard it is. But if you are committed, and need some help... I sat with Csanad for 2 hours every Friday, and he is not at the end of his journey. He is doing well, and with God's help, I think he will do even better. There is concern that Csanad is not sincere in his beliefs. Are you worried that if he renounces his Judaism, that will reflect badly on you as a Rabbi? How much responsibility to you feel towards Csanad? Oberlander: A Rabbi should never work based on what's good for public relations. A Rabbi has to live with his convictions. If it's not popular, it's not popular. When Csanad came in for Yom Kippur, people walked out. His presence was not popular with a lot of people, even between the Rabbis. A Lubavitch Rebbe once told me you have to love every Jew--the most wicked Jew the same as the most devout Jew. With Csanad, I found the most wicked Jew. You have to love everyone and give everyone the chance to change.
The .1 percent are the true villains: What Americans don’t understand about income inequality
“We are the 99 percent” is a great slogan, but is it distracting our attention from a sinister reality? There’s strong evidence that it’s not the 1 percent you should worry about—it’s the 0.1 percent. That decimal point makes a big difference. Over the last decade, a gigantic share of America’s income and wealth gains has flowed to this group, the wealthiest one out of 1,000 households. These are the wildly exotic and rapidly growing plants in our economic hothouse. Their habits and approaches to life are far divorced from the rest of us, and if we let them, they will soon cut off all our air and light. The 99 percent would do well to find common ground with bulk of the 1 percent if we can, because we are going to need each other to tackle this mounting threat from above. To make it into the 1 percent, you need to have, according to some estimates, at least about $350,000 a year in income, or around $8 million accumulated in wealth. At the lower end of the 1 percent spectrum, the “lower-uppers,” as they have been called, you’ll find people like successful doctors, accountants, engineers, lawyers, vice-presidents of companies, and well-paid media figures. Plenty of these affluent people have enjoyed blessings from Lady Luck, but a lot of them work hard at their jobs and want to contribute to their communities in positive ways. In times past, these kinds of citizens served on the boards of museums and cultural institutions and were active and prominent figures in their towns and cities. But now they are getting shoved aside unceremoniously by the vastly richer Wall Street financiers and Silicon Valley tycoons above them. Those at the lower end of the 1 percent have very nice houses and take exotic vacations, but they aren’t zipping to and fro in personal helicopters or cruising the high seas in megayachts. In exorbitantly expensive places like New York City and San Francisco, the lower-uppers may not even feel particularly rich. Most of them aren't really growing their share of wealth and plenty are worried about tumbling down the economic ladder. They have reason to worry. Some lower-uppers are beginning to realize that their natural allies are not those above them on the economic ladder. They are getting the sense that the 0.1 percent is its own hyper-elite club, and lower-uppers are not invited to the party. The 0.1 percent has pulled away because at the tippy top, income has grown much faster than it has for the rest of the affluent.Unlike the lower-uppers, the super-rich folks are armed with every tax dodge in universe: they aren’t expected to pay nearly their share to Uncle Sam. Their income comes largely from capital gains, which are taxed at a far lower rate than income earned from working. As their money piles up higher and higher, their conspicuous consumption knows no bounds—they are building palatial homes and massive art collections and even gold-plated bunkers to protect themselves in case of an uprising. Many don’t really ever put down roots in communities; they roam from New York to London to Dubai to the Cayman Islands, following the favorability of weather and tax codes. All told, the 0.1 percent now owns about as much wealth as the bottom 90 percent of America combined. And that’s just the official numbers. Plenty of their wealth is parked overseas and in places where it’s hard to get an accurate count of what they’ve accumulated. To get into the club, which comprises around 115,000 households, you need to start with a nest egg of $20 million—and that’s at the very bottom of the super-rich group. George W. Bush just barely makes the cut. He’s very rich, but not among the highest fliers in today’s second Gilded Age. As you move on up the 0.1 percent ladder, you get folks like Steve Cohen, the hedge fund billionaire who bought a 14-foot shark in formaldehyde for his office, as if to signal his shady business practices (his previous firm, SAC Capital, was shut down by the feds for insider trading). Cohen doesn’t have just one mansion, he has lots of them. His $23 million principal home is in Greenwich, Connecticut, featuring an indoor basketball court, a glass-enclosed pool, a 6,700-square-foot ice skating rink with a Zamboni machine that smoothes the ice, a golf course and a private art museum. He also has five other homes just in the New York area alone. People like Cohen are a big part of the undue concentration of wealth at the expense of workers and communities—they create little of value for society and siphon off funds for our schools and infrastructure with tax loopholes allowed by bought politicians, like the notorious “carried interest” loophole. You also get bankers CEOs like Jamie Dimon of JPMorgan Chase and corporate chieftains paid stratospheric salaries even while driving their companies into the ground, like erstwhile GOP presidential hopeful Carly Fiorina, formerly of Hewlett Packard. It used to be that simply being a billionaire would get you into the Forbes 400 list—that was true up until 2006. No more. Our current herd of fatcats has blown past their Gilded Age counterparts to seize an even more gigantic share of the economic pie. According to the magazine, in 2014 you had to have $1.55 billion in the bank vault to make the list. That was $250 million more than in 2013. By 2015, you had to have even more: Carol Jenkins Barnett, whose wealth derives from Publix supermarkets, was too poor to make Forbes with her paltry $1.69 billion. The hurdle continues to rise rapidly. By 2015, the wealthiest 20 people ownedmore wealth than half the American population. This group is where you’ll find Mark Zuckerberg of Facebook and Larry Page of Google, as well as the most successful financiers, like Warren Buffett and George Soros. But the ranks of the very top are no longer filled by mainly by entrepreneurs or even financiers who are self-made. Increasingly, they are populated by people who, thanks to several decades of regressive tax policy, have inherited their wealth; names like Walton and Koch have become common at the apex of wealth. This is the new hereditary aristocracy of means and power. Figuring out exactly how the very richest spend politically is hard, but it’s obvious that big contributions from the 0.1 percent are sharply rising in importance. It used to be that these gazillionaires would make their donations and then simply pick up the phone and tell Congress what they wanted done—as Jamie Dimon did when he and other bankers wanted a key part of Dodd-Frank to be rolled back in 2014. They tend to get what they want (Dimon did), and above all, what they want is not to pay taxes or have their activities regulated. That’s why you will continue to hear politicians insist that the paltry amount you can expect in Social Security is too much and that “we can’t afford” to send kids to college without plunging them into debt peonage. Inequality of income and wealth has fed back into the political process in dramatic fashion this political season. Tycoons like Donald Trump are abandoning their behind-the-scenes positions and stepping right onto the political stage. We may be entering a new phase of American politics where the 0.1 percent more regularly takes on the mantle of public servant to run the show directly, highlighting the brokenness of our system of democratic representation. Bernie Sanders, who has made political revolution focused on wresting control from billionaires as a central theme, is clearly focused on the power of the 0.1 percent. The revolution he calls for will not likely happen unless the 99 percent and the lower-uppers can appreciate their common ground and common threat. Mike N., a North Carolina physician and entrepreneur, is a member of the 1 percent, but not in the 0.1 percent stratosphere. “Growing inequality is bad for everyone,” he wrote to me. “I do not believe that is sustainable.” He identifies with people who have a tough time making ends meet because he did this for most of his life before his career took off. He is concerned with serving the community through charitable work and political engagement, and he believes that “all should have the opportunity for things like education and healthcare.” Mike N. is the kind of person the 99 percent can work with. Unless we act boldly—together—to reduce private concentrations of wealth, inequality will continue to grow and that 0.1 percent will continue to explode because the returns on their wealth exceed increases in salaries and income, as Thomas Piketty noted in his book, Capital in the Twenty-First Century. They can get wealthier and wealthier just by sitting there doing absolutely nothing. In fact, it would be better if they did just sit there and do nothing, because when they do something, it is often reckless speculation that destabilizes the economy. By seriously taxing our wealthiest households, we could raise significant revenues and invest these funds to expand wealth-building opportunities across the economy. Until we are able to offer a challenge to the 0.1 percent, we will continue to see democracy undermined, social cohesion blown apart, economies destabilized, social mobility stalled, and many other important aspects of our personal and public lives degraded, including our health. We need the lower-uppers to construct a social and political movement big enough and powerful enough to do it.
“We are the 99 percent” is a great slogan, but is it distracting our attention from a sinister reality? There’s strong evidence that it’s not the 1 percent you should worry about—it’s the 0.1 percent. That decimal point makes a big difference. Over the last decade, a gigantic share of America’s income and wealth gains has flowed to this group, the wealthiest one out of 1,000 households. These are the wildly exotic and rapidly growing plants in our economic hothouse. Their habits and approaches to life are far divorced from the rest of us, and if we let them, they will soon cut off all our air and light. The 99 percent would do well to find common ground with bulk of the 1 percent if we can, because we are going to need each other to tackle this mounting threat from above. To make it into the 1 percent, you need to have, according to some estimates, at least about $350,000 a year in income, or around $8 million accumulated in wealth. At the lower end of the 1 percent spectrum, the “lower-uppers,” as they have been called, you’ll find people like successful doctors, accountants, engineers, lawyers, vice-presidents of companies, and well-paid media figures. Plenty of these affluent people have enjoyed blessings from Lady Luck, but a lot of them work hard at their jobs and want to contribute to their communities in positive ways. In times past, these kinds of citizens served on the boards of museums and cultural institutions and were active and prominent figures in their towns and cities. But now they are getting shoved aside unceremoniously by the vastly richer Wall Street financiers and Silicon Valley tycoons above them. Those at the lower end of the 1 percent have very nice houses and take exotic vacations, but they aren’t zipping to and fro in personal helicopters or cruising the high seas in megayachts. In exorbitantly expensive places like New York City and San Francisco, the lower-uppers may not even feel particularly rich. Most of them aren't really growing their share of wealth and plenty are worried about tumbling down the economic ladder. They have reason to worry. Some lower-uppers are beginning to realize that their natural allies are not those above them on the economic ladder. They are getting the sense that the 0.1 percent is its own hyper-elite club, and lower-uppers are not invited to the party. The 0.1 percent has pulled away because at the tippy top, income has grown much faster than it has for the rest of the affluent.Unlike the lower-uppers, the super-rich folks are armed with every tax dodge in universe: they aren’t expected to pay nearly their share to Uncle Sam. Their income comes largely from capital gains, which are taxed at a far lower rate than income earned from working. As their money piles up higher and higher, their conspicuous consumption knows no bounds—they are building palatial homes and massive art collections and even gold-plated bunkers to protect themselves in case of an uprising. Many don’t really ever put down roots in communities; they roam from New York to London to Dubai to the Cayman Islands, following the favorability of weather and tax codes. All told, the 0.1 percent now owns about as much wealth as the bottom 90 percent of America combined. And that’s just the official numbers. Plenty of their wealth is parked overseas and in places where it’s hard to get an accurate count of what they’ve accumulated. To get into the club, which comprises around 115,000 households, you need to start with a nest egg of $20 million—and that’s at the very bottom of the super-rich group. George W. Bush just barely makes the cut. He’s very rich, but not among the highest fliers in today’s second Gilded Age. As you move on up the 0.1 percent ladder, you get folks like Steve Cohen, the hedge fund billionaire who bought a 14-foot shark in formaldehyde for his office, as if to signal his shady business practices (his previous firm, SAC Capital, was shut down by the feds for insider trading). Cohen doesn’t have just one mansion, he has lots of them. His $23 million principal home is in Greenwich, Connecticut, featuring an indoor basketball court, a glass-enclosed pool, a 6,700-square-foot ice skating rink with a Zamboni machine that smoothes the ice, a golf course and a private art museum. He also has five other homes just in the New York area alone. People like Cohen are a big part of the undue concentration of wealth at the expense of workers and communities—they create little of value for society and siphon off funds for our schools and infrastructure with tax loopholes allowed by bought politicians, like the notorious “carried interest” loophole. You also get bankers CEOs like Jamie Dimon of JPMorgan Chase and corporate chieftains paid stratospheric salaries even while driving their companies into the ground, like erstwhile GOP presidential hopeful Carly Fiorina, formerly of Hewlett Packard. It used to be that simply being a billionaire would get you into the Forbes 400 list—that was true up until 2006. No more. Our current herd of fatcats has blown past their Gilded Age counterparts to seize an even more gigantic share of the economic pie. According to the magazine, in 2014 you had to have $1.55 billion in the bank vault to make the list. That was $250 million more than in 2013. By 2015, you had to have even more: Carol Jenkins Barnett, whose wealth derives from Publix supermarkets, was too poor to make Forbes with her paltry $1.69 billion. The hurdle continues to rise rapidly. By 2015, the wealthiest 20 people ownedmore wealth than half the American population. This group is where you’ll find Mark Zuckerberg of Facebook and Larry Page of Google, as well as the most successful financiers, like Warren Buffett and George Soros. But the ranks of the very top are no longer filled by mainly by entrepreneurs or even financiers who are self-made. Increasingly, they are populated by people who, thanks to several decades of regressive tax policy, have inherited their wealth; names like Walton and Koch have become common at the apex of wealth. This is the new hereditary aristocracy of means and power. Figuring out exactly how the very richest spend politically is hard, but it’s obvious that big contributions from the 0.1 percent are sharply rising in importance. It used to be that these gazillionaires would make their donations and then simply pick up the phone and tell Congress what they wanted done—as Jamie Dimon did when he and other bankers wanted a key part of Dodd-Frank to be rolled back in 2014. They tend to get what they want (Dimon did), and above all, what they want is not to pay taxes or have their activities regulated. That’s why you will continue to hear politicians insist that the paltry amount you can expect in Social Security is too much and that “we can’t afford” to send kids to college without plunging them into debt peonage. Inequality of income and wealth has fed back into the political process in dramatic fashion this political season. Tycoons like Donald Trump are abandoning their behind-the-scenes positions and stepping right onto the political stage. We may be entering a new phase of American politics where the 0.1 percent more regularly takes on the mantle of public servant to run the show directly, highlighting the brokenness of our system of democratic representation. Bernie Sanders, who has made political revolution focused on wresting control from billionaires as a central theme, is clearly focused on the power of the 0.1 percent. The revolution he calls for will not likely happen unless the 99 percent and the lower-uppers can appreciate their common ground and common threat. Mike N., a North Carolina physician and entrepreneur, is a member of the 1 percent, but not in the 0.1 percent stratosphere. “Growing inequality is bad for everyone,” he wrote to me. “I do not believe that is sustainable.” He identifies with people who have a tough time making ends meet because he did this for most of his life before his career took off. He is concerned with serving the community through charitable work and political engagement, and he believes that “all should have the opportunity for things like education and healthcare.” Mike N. is the kind of person the 99 percent can work with. Unless we act boldly—together—to reduce private concentrations of wealth, inequality will continue to grow and that 0.1 percent will continue to explode because the returns on their wealth exceed increases in salaries and income, as Thomas Piketty noted in his book, Capital in the Twenty-First Century. They can get wealthier and wealthier just by sitting there doing absolutely nothing. In fact, it would be better if they did just sit there and do nothing, because when they do something, it is often reckless speculation that destabilizes the economy. By seriously taxing our wealthiest households, we could raise significant revenues and invest these funds to expand wealth-building opportunities across the economy. Until we are able to offer a challenge to the 0.1 percent, we will continue to see democracy undermined, social cohesion blown apart, economies destabilized, social mobility stalled, and many other important aspects of our personal and public lives degraded, including our health. We need the lower-uppers to construct a social and political movement big enough and powerful enough to do it.
Rush Limbaugh hit where it hurts: World’s greatest troll faces steep pay cut
One of the favorite pastimes for sports fans is commiserating over the worst contract their home team ever made; guffawing over management’s decision to waste tens of millions of dollars for a player who never justified the huge payday. (See: Gilbert Arenas.) For talk radio, there’s probably only one contract that enters that realm of notoriety: Rush Limbaugh’s eight-year, $400-million deal, signed in the summer of 2008 with his longtime radio employer Premiere Radio Networks. Owned by Clear Channel Communications, which has since changed its name to iHeartRadio, Premiere’s Limbaugh deal instantly dwarfed any payout in AM/FM history. (Only Howard Stern’s contract with Sirius was larger.) The contract, which included a staggering $100 million signing bonus, never panned out as the wheels began to come off Limbaugh’s radio empire. This year, his contract is up and the timing couldn’t be worse. The talker is facing ratings hurdles, aging demographics, and an advertising community that increasingly views him as toxic, thanks in part to his days-long sexist meltdown over Sandra Fluke in 2012. (He’s also stumbling through the GOP primary season.) Concurrently, iHeartRadio’s parent company, iHeartMedia, is heading to court, teetering on bankruptcy. The once-dominant radio behemoth is saddled with $20 billion in debt, thanks to a misguided leveraged takeover engineered by Bain Capital in 2008, the same year the radio giant inked its disastrous Limbaugh deal. Today those two defining missteps from the past are crossing paths, which means Limbaugh’s radio future has never looked less bright. This, as Limbaugh passes his 65th birthday, which seems to mirror his audience’s age. "Who would even want someone whose audience is aging and is considered toxic to many advertisers," asked RadioInsight last year. Some industry insiders are wondering if his AM days are over and if Limbaugh’s futures rest with satellite radio, where advertiser indifference wouldn’t penalize him. The problem? His audience is so old. “With the aging and decline of Limbaugh's audience, Sirius may not be as viable an option as it once was,” Darryl Parks tells Media Matters. A former talk radio host, programmer, and self-identified Republican, Parks writes about the industry at DarrylParksBlog. Indeed, the conservative talk radio format has morphed into the Classic Rock of talk; super-serving the same aging demo for the last twenty-plus years. “Everything needs to evolve, but stations, conservative talk hosts and programmers have decided to double down and focus on the aging Baby Boomers,” says Parks. “When a group is no longer appealing to advertisers, that spells the end of any radio format.” The former Clear Channel network owns 850 radio stations across the country and the syndication rights to right-wing stars such as Limbaugh, Glenn Beck and Sean Hannity. During the late 1990s and early 2000s the company, feasting on the fruits of media deregulation, gorged itself with profits. (It also bullied the music business for years.) Since then, not so much. And what a brutal ride it’s been for investors: Clear Channel stock price, January 2000: $90. Clear Channel stock value, April 2007: $39. iHeartMedia stock price, July 2011: $8.30. iHeartMedia stock price at close of yesterday: $1.15. The company hasn’t reported a profit since 2007. Today, iHeartMedia is busy selling off assets in an effort to shore up its bottom line. “It’s a case of burning your sofa to heat up the house,” Philip Brendel, a credit analyst recently told Bloomberg. “It’s not necessarily a good idea but you’re running out of options.” The company’s woes date back to the Clear Channel leveraged buyout deal in 2008. It was overseen by private equity giants Thomas H. Lee Partners and Bain Capital, once headed by Mitt Romney. Coming just months before the U.S. financial crisis of September 2008, the Clear Channel deal couldn’t have been hatched at a worse time. How bad was the deal? Monumentally bad:
In 2007, the company, then called Clear Channel, reported a net income of $939 million. In the years since the LBO, the company has reported losses of between $220 million and $4 billion per year. For 2015, it reported a loss of $738 million.Today, the interest paid on iHeartMedia’s massive debt gobbles up earnings. “Revenue last year was $6.5 billion. A $1.74 billion interest expense drove a net loss of $661 million,” Billboard reported. (iHeartMedia also operates a huge billboard advertising and live concert business, among other interests.) Is this a company that can continue to fill wheelbarrows full of cash and pay Limbaugh $38 million annually, and bless him with another $100 million signing bonus? No way. In fact, iHeartMedia’s too busy putting out other raging fires right now -- like trying to stay solvent. What sparked the sudden specter of bankruptcy was an allegedly deceptive move made by iHeartMedia: Shifting money from one division of the business to another instead of paying debts owed to creditors. The creditors went to court and sued. They “believe the stock transfer constitutes a default and might call their debt within 60 days,” Billboard reported. iHeartMedia sought an emergency injunction, stressing that if creditors won their “default” claim, the dominoes would instantly fall and iHeartMedia would face an avalanche of bond defaults totaling $15 billion to a long line of creditors. Those are payments the company simply cannot make, which would mean bankruptcy for iHeartMedia. Having secured a temporary restraining order to halt the creditors’ actions, the two sides are set to square off in a courtroom next month to determine the outcome of the injunction request. “It’s not a question of whether it collapses but when, and it’s likely to come sooner rather than later,” suggested Media Life. “It could be within months." Meanwhile, not only has the bottom line for Limbaugh’s corporate radio home cratered since 2008, but the talker’s own business plan has become riddled with holes in recent years. Just look at Boston, where Limbaugh stood out as a talk radio star for years. In 2015, his affiliate there droppedhis midday show. Although not unheard of in the radio business (Limbaugh’s show is very expensive for stations to carry), what was surprising was that nobody else in Boston stepped forward to pick up Limbaugh’s program. Desperate not to lose coverage in the tenth largest radio market in America, iHeart shipped Limbaugh’s show down to a has-been station the company owns in Boston. Today, that station ranks 26th out of 29 stations in the market, boasting a .2 rating. Those aren’t the kind of major market ratings you want to take to the negotiating table for a new contract.One of the favorite pastimes for sports fans is commiserating over the worst contract their home team ever made; guffawing over management’s decision to waste tens of millions of dollars for a player who never justified the huge payday. (See: Gilbert Arenas.) For talk radio, there’s probably only one contract that enters that realm of notoriety: Rush Limbaugh’s eight-year, $400-million deal, signed in the summer of 2008 with his longtime radio employer Premiere Radio Networks. Owned by Clear Channel Communications, which has since changed its name to iHeartRadio, Premiere’s Limbaugh deal instantly dwarfed any payout in AM/FM history. (Only Howard Stern’s contract with Sirius was larger.) The contract, which included a staggering $100 million signing bonus, never panned out as the wheels began to come off Limbaugh’s radio empire. This year, his contract is up and the timing couldn’t be worse. The talker is facing ratings hurdles, aging demographics, and an advertising community that increasingly views him as toxic, thanks in part to his days-long sexist meltdown over Sandra Fluke in 2012. (He’s also stumbling through the GOP primary season.) Concurrently, iHeartRadio’s parent company, iHeartMedia, is heading to court, teetering on bankruptcy. The once-dominant radio behemoth is saddled with $20 billion in debt, thanks to a misguided leveraged takeover engineered by Bain Capital in 2008, the same year the radio giant inked its disastrous Limbaugh deal. Today those two defining missteps from the past are crossing paths, which means Limbaugh’s radio future has never looked less bright. This, as Limbaugh passes his 65th birthday, which seems to mirror his audience’s age. "Who would even want someone whose audience is aging and is considered toxic to many advertisers," asked RadioInsight last year. Some industry insiders are wondering if his AM days are over and if Limbaugh’s futures rest with satellite radio, where advertiser indifference wouldn’t penalize him. The problem? His audience is so old. “With the aging and decline of Limbaugh's audience, Sirius may not be as viable an option as it once was,” Darryl Parks tells Media Matters. A former talk radio host, programmer, and self-identified Republican, Parks writes about the industry at DarrylParksBlog. Indeed, the conservative talk radio format has morphed into the Classic Rock of talk; super-serving the same aging demo for the last twenty-plus years. “Everything needs to evolve, but stations, conservative talk hosts and programmers have decided to double down and focus on the aging Baby Boomers,” says Parks. “When a group is no longer appealing to advertisers, that spells the end of any radio format.” The former Clear Channel network owns 850 radio stations across the country and the syndication rights to right-wing stars such as Limbaugh, Glenn Beck and Sean Hannity. During the late 1990s and early 2000s the company, feasting on the fruits of media deregulation, gorged itself with profits. (It also bullied the music business for years.) Since then, not so much. And what a brutal ride it’s been for investors: Clear Channel stock price, January 2000: $90. Clear Channel stock value, April 2007: $39. iHeartMedia stock price, July 2011: $8.30. iHeartMedia stock price at close of yesterday: $1.15. The company hasn’t reported a profit since 2007. Today, iHeartMedia is busy selling off assets in an effort to shore up its bottom line. “It’s a case of burning your sofa to heat up the house,” Philip Brendel, a credit analyst recently told Bloomberg. “It’s not necessarily a good idea but you’re running out of options.” The company’s woes date back to the Clear Channel leveraged buyout deal in 2008. It was overseen by private equity giants Thomas H. Lee Partners and Bain Capital, once headed by Mitt Romney. Coming just months before the U.S. financial crisis of September 2008, the Clear Channel deal couldn’t have been hatched at a worse time. How bad was the deal? Monumentally bad:
In 2007, the company, then called Clear Channel, reported a net income of $939 million. In the years since the LBO, the company has reported losses of between $220 million and $4 billion per year. For 2015, it reported a loss of $738 million.Today, the interest paid on iHeartMedia’s massive debt gobbles up earnings. “Revenue last year was $6.5 billion. A $1.74 billion interest expense drove a net loss of $661 million,” Billboard reported. (iHeartMedia also operates a huge billboard advertising and live concert business, among other interests.) Is this a company that can continue to fill wheelbarrows full of cash and pay Limbaugh $38 million annually, and bless him with another $100 million signing bonus? No way. In fact, iHeartMedia’s too busy putting out other raging fires right now -- like trying to stay solvent. What sparked the sudden specter of bankruptcy was an allegedly deceptive move made by iHeartMedia: Shifting money from one division of the business to another instead of paying debts owed to creditors. The creditors went to court and sued. They “believe the stock transfer constitutes a default and might call their debt within 60 days,” Billboard reported. iHeartMedia sought an emergency injunction, stressing that if creditors won their “default” claim, the dominoes would instantly fall and iHeartMedia would face an avalanche of bond defaults totaling $15 billion to a long line of creditors. Those are payments the company simply cannot make, which would mean bankruptcy for iHeartMedia. Having secured a temporary restraining order to halt the creditors’ actions, the two sides are set to square off in a courtroom next month to determine the outcome of the injunction request. “It’s not a question of whether it collapses but when, and it’s likely to come sooner rather than later,” suggested Media Life. “It could be within months." Meanwhile, not only has the bottom line for Limbaugh’s corporate radio home cratered since 2008, but the talker’s own business plan has become riddled with holes in recent years. Just look at Boston, where Limbaugh stood out as a talk radio star for years. In 2015, his affiliate there droppedhis midday show. Although not unheard of in the radio business (Limbaugh’s show is very expensive for stations to carry), what was surprising was that nobody else in Boston stepped forward to pick up Limbaugh’s program. Desperate not to lose coverage in the tenth largest radio market in America, iHeart shipped Limbaugh’s show down to a has-been station the company owns in Boston. Today, that station ranks 26th out of 29 stations in the market, boasting a .2 rating. Those aren’t the kind of major market ratings you want to take to the negotiating table for a new contract.One of the favorite pastimes for sports fans is commiserating over the worst contract their home team ever made; guffawing over management’s decision to waste tens of millions of dollars for a player who never justified the huge payday. (See: Gilbert Arenas.) For talk radio, there’s probably only one contract that enters that realm of notoriety: Rush Limbaugh’s eight-year, $400-million deal, signed in the summer of 2008 with his longtime radio employer Premiere Radio Networks. Owned by Clear Channel Communications, which has since changed its name to iHeartRadio, Premiere’s Limbaugh deal instantly dwarfed any payout in AM/FM history. (Only Howard Stern’s contract with Sirius was larger.) The contract, which included a staggering $100 million signing bonus, never panned out as the wheels began to come off Limbaugh’s radio empire. This year, his contract is up and the timing couldn’t be worse. The talker is facing ratings hurdles, aging demographics, and an advertising community that increasingly views him as toxic, thanks in part to his days-long sexist meltdown over Sandra Fluke in 2012. (He’s also stumbling through the GOP primary season.) Concurrently, iHeartRadio’s parent company, iHeartMedia, is heading to court, teetering on bankruptcy. The once-dominant radio behemoth is saddled with $20 billion in debt, thanks to a misguided leveraged takeover engineered by Bain Capital in 2008, the same year the radio giant inked its disastrous Limbaugh deal. Today those two defining missteps from the past are crossing paths, which means Limbaugh’s radio future has never looked less bright. This, as Limbaugh passes his 65th birthday, which seems to mirror his audience’s age. "Who would even want someone whose audience is aging and is considered toxic to many advertisers," asked RadioInsight last year. Some industry insiders are wondering if his AM days are over and if Limbaugh’s futures rest with satellite radio, where advertiser indifference wouldn’t penalize him. The problem? His audience is so old. “With the aging and decline of Limbaugh's audience, Sirius may not be as viable an option as it once was,” Darryl Parks tells Media Matters. A former talk radio host, programmer, and self-identified Republican, Parks writes about the industry at DarrylParksBlog. Indeed, the conservative talk radio format has morphed into the Classic Rock of talk; super-serving the same aging demo for the last twenty-plus years. “Everything needs to evolve, but stations, conservative talk hosts and programmers have decided to double down and focus on the aging Baby Boomers,” says Parks. “When a group is no longer appealing to advertisers, that spells the end of any radio format.” The former Clear Channel network owns 850 radio stations across the country and the syndication rights to right-wing stars such as Limbaugh, Glenn Beck and Sean Hannity. During the late 1990s and early 2000s the company, feasting on the fruits of media deregulation, gorged itself with profits. (It also bullied the music business for years.) Since then, not so much. And what a brutal ride it’s been for investors: Clear Channel stock price, January 2000: $90. Clear Channel stock value, April 2007: $39. iHeartMedia stock price, July 2011: $8.30. iHeartMedia stock price at close of yesterday: $1.15. The company hasn’t reported a profit since 2007. Today, iHeartMedia is busy selling off assets in an effort to shore up its bottom line. “It’s a case of burning your sofa to heat up the house,” Philip Brendel, a credit analyst recently told Bloomberg. “It’s not necessarily a good idea but you’re running out of options.” The company’s woes date back to the Clear Channel leveraged buyout deal in 2008. It was overseen by private equity giants Thomas H. Lee Partners and Bain Capital, once headed by Mitt Romney. Coming just months before the U.S. financial crisis of September 2008, the Clear Channel deal couldn’t have been hatched at a worse time. How bad was the deal? Monumentally bad:
In 2007, the company, then called Clear Channel, reported a net income of $939 million. In the years since the LBO, the company has reported losses of between $220 million and $4 billion per year. For 2015, it reported a loss of $738 million.Today, the interest paid on iHeartMedia’s massive debt gobbles up earnings. “Revenue last year was $6.5 billion. A $1.74 billion interest expense drove a net loss of $661 million,” Billboard reported. (iHeartMedia also operates a huge billboard advertising and live concert business, among other interests.) Is this a company that can continue to fill wheelbarrows full of cash and pay Limbaugh $38 million annually, and bless him with another $100 million signing bonus? No way. In fact, iHeartMedia’s too busy putting out other raging fires right now -- like trying to stay solvent. What sparked the sudden specter of bankruptcy was an allegedly deceptive move made by iHeartMedia: Shifting money from one division of the business to another instead of paying debts owed to creditors. The creditors went to court and sued. They “believe the stock transfer constitutes a default and might call their debt within 60 days,” Billboard reported. iHeartMedia sought an emergency injunction, stressing that if creditors won their “default” claim, the dominoes would instantly fall and iHeartMedia would face an avalanche of bond defaults totaling $15 billion to a long line of creditors. Those are payments the company simply cannot make, which would mean bankruptcy for iHeartMedia. Having secured a temporary restraining order to halt the creditors’ actions, the two sides are set to square off in a courtroom next month to determine the outcome of the injunction request. “It’s not a question of whether it collapses but when, and it’s likely to come sooner rather than later,” suggested Media Life. “It could be within months." Meanwhile, not only has the bottom line for Limbaugh’s corporate radio home cratered since 2008, but the talker’s own business plan has become riddled with holes in recent years. Just look at Boston, where Limbaugh stood out as a talk radio star for years. In 2015, his affiliate there droppedhis midday show. Although not unheard of in the radio business (Limbaugh’s show is very expensive for stations to carry), what was surprising was that nobody else in Boston stepped forward to pick up Limbaugh’s program. Desperate not to lose coverage in the tenth largest radio market in America, iHeart shipped Limbaugh’s show down to a has-been station the company owns in Boston. Today, that station ranks 26th out of 29 stations in the market, boasting a .2 rating. Those aren’t the kind of major market ratings you want to take to the negotiating table for a new contract.
