Retrieved 4/11/09 from http://amerinz.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-dont-have-time-for-this.html
I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS
By AmeriNZ
I don’t have time for this. This is the busiest week of the month for me, and I have a lot of work to do, so I don’t have time for a blog post. But that’s not what I’m talking about: I just don’t have time for the bullshit anymore: Tonight Maine repealed marriage equality.
This came about because our opponents ran a campaign filled with lies and distortions made possible by millions of dollars in out-of-state contributions. This came about because of out-of-state agitators organised by a prominent national organisation quietly backed by the Mormons.
The people fighting for our side were brilliant: They ran a strong grassroots campaign involving thousands of ordinary Maine folks who made phone calls, went door-to-door and did all they could to keep equality in Maine. However, they had one major handicap: They were in the reality-based world where facts and reason matter, something our opponents know little about, but, apparently, didn’t need to.
Our opponents played on people’s fears, as they always do. They played on people’s ignorance, as they always do. They played on people’s prejudice and hatred, as they always do. And for good measure they just made stuff up, as they always do. Our side couldn’t match the millions of dollars the right’s churches collected to promote the lies and hatred, so it was always an uphill fight.
It’s time to make one thing abundantly clear: Our opponents don’t have a minor disagreement with us—they hate us. It’s not the word “marriage” they have a problem with—it’s that we have any rights whatsoever.
In California, they claimed their problem was with “activist judges” (a term they only use when they disagree with a ruling). If “the people” don’t enact it, it’s not legitimate, they said. Then when Maine’s elected legislature enacted marriage equality, and its elected Governor signed it into law, the religious extremists tripped all over themselves to repeal the law the people’s representatives had enacted. Apparently, by “the people” the religious extremists meant only themselves.
In doing so, the religious extremists glossed over the gross immorality of the majority ever being allowed to vote on the rights of the minority, as if it’s ever proper for voters to decide who has full equality and who does not.
Maine’s governor—who formerly opposed same-sex marriage—was a strong advocate. So were many other prominent Mainers. But the national Democratic Party, including President Obama, were absent. The president issued a mild, vague statement but never said, “vote NO”.
The mainstream news media failed miserably. They treated it as an interesting, possibly significant, curiosity. They never once called out the religious bigots on their lies; maybe they’re too frightened of them.
Still, despite all that, we'll win because we’re on the right side of history. Those who oppose us will be remembered like the famous bigots of the near past—Thurmond, Wallace, and so on—and that day is fast approaching.
So, I refuse to give up on America. Despite all the hate, despite all the money and power being deployed against us, despite the evil being done in the name of their god, I know we will win. I have that hope because America gave it to me as a birthright. I have that hope because generations of Americans have fought and died to nurture it. I have that hope because at this moment, all across America, millions of people are hanging their heads in sadness or shame over how GLBT people are being treated—again. I have hope because, as the president once said, “In the unlikely story that is America, there is nothing false about hope.”
An activist friend suggested the song in the video at the top of this post as an antidote for those filled with sadness from this defeat. I love how very gay it is to take courage from a song by Liza—Judy’s daughter—but I also love the sentiment.
This isn’t the end: It’s just the beginning. We will win—if not tomorrow, then the day after that.
Posted by Arthur (AmeriNZ)
AmeriNZ writes some brilliant posts commenting on life in both in New Zealand and the USA, check out his blog at http://amerinz.blogspot.com/
Showing posts with label Politics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Politics. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
More of 'What I Do'
176.206
Understanding Social Life
by Danny Rudd
"Critically discuss the relationship between the politics of research and how social scientists investigate the social world."
Course Coordinators:
Lesley Patterson, Avril Bell
The research process does not begin and end with the conducting of a study, rather, research inquiries are always situated within political contexts, and may have wide-ranging and possibly unintended consequences. In conducting research, social scientists strive to be objective and systematic, however their attempts to impose scientific rigour in the investigation of social phenomena may ultimately be unrealistic, as the politics of research that come into play may render such attempts at objectivity futile. What then are the politics surrounding research, and how do they constrain or enable research inquiries?
To understand the relationship between the politics of research and how social scientists investigate the social world, we first must define what is meant by the ‘politics of research’ and ‘how social scientists investigate the social world.’ We begin with the latter question: how do social scientists investigate the social world? Commonly employed research techniques include conducting interviews, designing and administering survey questionnaires, engaging in participant observation and making use of well-chosen informers to create ethnographies, life-histories and analyses of recorded communications and other representations by means of content analysis and semiotic analysis (McLennan, Ryan & Spoonley, 2004, pp.12-13). A fundamental difference between these methods is whether the techniques employed are quantitative or qualitative. Quantitative research may be characterised as “based on precise measurement” (Bilton et al., 1996, p.109), concerned primarily with description of the parameters of a population in regards to a variable or variables. Chamberlain (2000, p.290) notes that in quantitative analysis description is seen as a perfectly valid and desirable outcome. Ajwani et al.’s (2003) Decades of Disparity: Ethnic mortality trends in New Zealand 1980 – 1999, which counts and compares mortality across ethnic and gender and age categories in New Zealand, is an example of quantitative analysis.
Qualitative research, on the other hand, can be described as “the nonnumerical examination and interpretation of observations, for the purpose of discovering underlying meanings and patterns of relationships” (Babbie, 2007, p.378). It is concerned more with the ‘how’ and the ‘why’ than with precise measurements. Chamberlain, (2000, p.286) notes an increasing acceptance of qualitative work in sociology, health psychology and other fields, and suggests that this is indicative of “changing notions” of what constitutes research. Qualitative methods include participant observation, content analysis, case-studies, life histories and interviews (Babbie, 2007, p.377), such as those conducted by Hargreaves for her study Constructing families and kinship through donor insemination (2006). What all these quantitative and qualitative methods have in common is that they are critical, reflexive, and disciplined (Bilton et al., 1996, p.100), they are systematic and methodical attempts to accurately describe and understand the social world.
Having now described how social scientists investigate the social world, we turn to the politics of research. What is meant by the ‘politics of research’? Gelles (2007, p.42) uses the term to mean “how research is utilized, abused, and misused in policy and practice”. Similarly Babbie (2007, pp.74, 77) writes that political issues in social research are concerned with the findings of the research and how these are used, noting that “there is probably a political dimension to every attempt to study human social behaviour.” The politics of research therefore refers to how research is applied, and what it means to various interested parties or ‘stake holders’.
Giddens (1997, p.551) notes that “sociological research is rarely of interest only to the intellectual community of sociologists... [but is] ...often disseminated more widely.” Among those interested are members of the public, the government and the media. Social scientists study contentious issues, phenomena that people have much invested in. Members of the public care less about the extinction of a particular forest species or the mechanics of light and sound than they do about their children’s education, their access to healthcare, gender inequalities in the workplace or their likelihood of finding themselves unemployed. The findings of social scientists often inform the ‘common sense’ opinions of the public (Giddens, 1997, p.551), and thus members of the public are stake holders in research.
Politicians are also interested in social research. Social science especially is open to political interference because it is concerned with social life, and this is also the domain of Politics, the arena of policy-making and government (Babbie, 2007, p.79). Politicians need research done; Hodgetts et al. (2004, p.457) note that government can act on issues brought to its attention by social research, as the New Zealand government did with the findings of Decades of Disparity by addressing the health inequalities the report identified as existing between Maori and Pacific populations and the wider population. The authors of the study, Ajwani et al. (2003, p.1), also assert that governments need “reliable and valid information on population health outcomes, how equitably these outcomes are distributed, and the causes or determinants of both the level and distribution of these health outcomes” to reach their health goals. Governments use the information provided by social researchers to decide both where to intervene and how effective these interventions are.
Babbie (2007, p.77) notes that social research is intimately bound up with policy-making and government, and as an example he notes Laumann’s proposed 1987 studies of human sexual behaviour at different stages of life, requested by the National Institutes of Health to direct funding to populations at risk of HIV/AIDS in the United States. Politicians decried this proposed research as being intended to legitimate homosexuality, and diverted the requested public funding to ‘abstinence-only’ sex education for teens. Laumann therefore had to apply for funding from private foundations, and published his findings some years later (The Social Organisation of Sexuality, 1994), but the above is illustrative of the intertwined nature of Politics and social research, and of the fact that politics come into play in research inquiries even before the research is conducted. In this case, the politics of research and funding limited the size and extent of the study.
Another example of the intersection of Politics and research given by Babbie (2007, pp.77-78) is census data, which is collected every few years in different states around the world and used to determine proportionate representation. Parties that have reliable voting blocks (for instance, the Democrats in the United States, who rely on the fact that the urban poor overwhelmingly vote Democratic) are resistant to changes in counting or method, as this might weaken their position. Political parties are important stake holders in social research.
One of the most important ways that social research findings are disseminated is through the news media. Hodgetts et al. (2004, p. 458, 470) note that policy makers are part of the audience of the mediated reporting of research findings, and argue that addressing media coverage of research is important because the media is an important influence on policy formation, as politicians take the content of media reports as a good indication of what the public understands and supports. Hodgetts et al. (2004, pp.455, 458 & 470) note that in New Zealand as in other former colonial societies, media and government are dominated by the heirs to the colonising power (in New Zealand, by Pakeha), and there is a real media reluctance to report research findings that challenge the status quo and advocate societal change, with the effect that such findings are often misrepresented by the media [as was the case with the Decades of Disparity report, which media commentators characterised as attributing Maori and Pacific peoples’ greater ill-health and higher mortality to their own ineptitude and carelessness when the study itself had stressed structural explanations]; this means that researchers “need to become more actively involved in issue management”. Babbie (2007, p.80), citing Gans (2002), notes that social scientists have an obligation to speak out on social issues, because social scientists have in-depth knowledge of society and social inequalities, and can therefore shed much light on contentious issues.
This position is shared by Marxists and Neo-Marxists, who often believe that research should inspire and contribute to activism for social change, that research which stops at description and explanation of social phenomenon can be used to legitimate or justify existing inequalities, and as such it is irresponsible for researchers to ignore the social consequences of their research (Babbie, 2007, p.75). Certainly social researchers often become deeply committed to and involved with civil rights movements, such as the anti-segregation movements in the United States (Babbie, 2007, p.76).
Babbie (2007, pp.74-75) notes that in research “there are no formal codes of accepted political conduct” as there are ethical codes, but that it is generally accepted that a researcher’s own political views should be kept out of their research, they should try to be objective, to aspire to Weber’s value-free sociology. This means avoiding the temptation to distort one’s own research findings or use “shoddy techniques” to further one’s own political agenda, as is occasionally the case. Exodus International in the United States, for example, is known for publishing substandard articles and misrepresenting the research of others to achieve their political goals (Grace, 2008, p.547). But perhaps social scientists cannot in fact be objective, as human beings studying the behaviour of other human beings; if so, then perhaps the most that can be achieved is a degree of intersubjectivity, whereby anyone, regardless of their personal political views, should be able to come to the same conclusions using the appropriate techniques (Babbie, 2007, p.75).
Postmodern perspectives, which consider all claims to ‘truth’ equally valid, are increasingly being adopted by social researchers, and a principle tenet of postmodern social analysis is the assumption that objectivity is impossible (Bilton et al., 1996, pp.102, 129, 610). Babbie (2007, pp.76-77, 78) argues that “social research in relation to contested social issues simply cannot remain antiseptically objective,” and notes that doing research on hot topics opens the researcher up to a great deal of backlash. A researcher can come under personal attack from people who feel threatened by their findings, even within academia, other researchers who are attached to established wisdom or ideology can savage the work of others. It can be difficult, in such contexts, not to overstate or underplay the significance of one’s findings, and given the time and effort that has gone into the research process it is understandable that researchers may be defensive about their work. Impartiality in regards to one’s work is difficult, if not impossible. And yet it remains true that conflict in science actually benefits in that it serves as a source of inspiration, directs inquiry and forces researchers to refine their arguments, (Babbie, 2007, p.80).
In sum, there is more to research than just conducting a study; the research process is at all stages bound up in political concerns. What is eventually studied is influenced from the outset by the researcher’s own biases and interests, as well as by practical limitations such as securing adequate funding. In conducting the actual research, the researcher must be careful to remain as intellectually honest and objective as possible, and yet we should be aware that this may prove difficult and that certainly in some cases, the researcher’s personal political views have influenced their findings and the presentation of those findings. Researchers should be especially aware of these concerns where the research or its findings are particularly contentious. In conducting social research, they should be aware also that their findings may become part of wider public discourse, informing public opinion and government policy, and as such, that their research may have very real consequences for people in society. Further, researchers should be aware that their research is subject to interpretation by media and that their findings may be misinterpreted or perhaps appropriated by interest groups that will misrepresent them, and therefore be prepared to engage with media to minimise such occurrences.
References
Ajwani, S., Blakely, T., Robson, B., Tobias, M. & Bonne, M. (2003) Decades of Disparity: Ethnic mortality trends in New Zealand 1980 - 1999. Wellington, New Zealand: Ministry of Health & University of Otago [extracts], pp.i-14, 45-54.
Babbie, E. (2007). The Practice of Social Research (11th Ed.), Belmont, California: Thomson Wadsworth.
Bilton, T., Bonnett, K., Jones, P., Sheard, K., Stanworth, M., Webster, A. (1996). Introductory Sociology, (3rd Ed). Macmillan Press: London.
Chamberlain, K. (2000). Methodolatry and qualitative health research. Journal of Health Psychology, 5(3), 285-296.
Gelles, R. J. (2007). The politics of research: The use, abuse, and misuse of social science data – the cases of Intimate Partner Violence. Family Court Review, 45(1), 42–51.
Retrieved 10/09/09 from
http://www.familieslink.co.uk/download/july07/Politics%20of%20research.pdf
Giddens, A. (1997). Sociology (3rd Ed). Polity Press: Cambridge.
Grace, A. (2008). The Charisma and Deception of Reparative Therapies: When Medical Science Beds Religion. Journal of Homosexuality, 55(4), 545-580.
Retrieved 20/09/09 from
http://pdfserve.informaworld.com.ezproxy.massey.ac.nz/114641_751308139_906684075.pdf
Hargreaves, K. (2006). Constructing families and kinship through donor insemination. Sociology of Health & Illness, 28(3), 261-283.
Hodgetts, D., Masters, B., & Robertson, N. (2004). Media coverage of ‘Decades of Disparity’ in ethnic mortality in Aotearoa. Journal of Community and
Applied Social Psychology, 14,455-472.
McLennan, G., Ryan, A. & Spoonley, P. (2004). Exploring Society: Sociology for New Zealand students (2nd Ed.), Pearson Education: New Zealand,
pp. 77-95.
Understanding Social Life
by Danny Rudd
"Critically discuss the relationship between the politics of research and how social scientists investigate the social world."
Course Coordinators:
Lesley Patterson, Avril Bell
The research process does not begin and end with the conducting of a study, rather, research inquiries are always situated within political contexts, and may have wide-ranging and possibly unintended consequences. In conducting research, social scientists strive to be objective and systematic, however their attempts to impose scientific rigour in the investigation of social phenomena may ultimately be unrealistic, as the politics of research that come into play may render such attempts at objectivity futile. What then are the politics surrounding research, and how do they constrain or enable research inquiries?
To understand the relationship between the politics of research and how social scientists investigate the social world, we first must define what is meant by the ‘politics of research’ and ‘how social scientists investigate the social world.’ We begin with the latter question: how do social scientists investigate the social world? Commonly employed research techniques include conducting interviews, designing and administering survey questionnaires, engaging in participant observation and making use of well-chosen informers to create ethnographies, life-histories and analyses of recorded communications and other representations by means of content analysis and semiotic analysis (McLennan, Ryan & Spoonley, 2004, pp.12-13). A fundamental difference between these methods is whether the techniques employed are quantitative or qualitative. Quantitative research may be characterised as “based on precise measurement” (Bilton et al., 1996, p.109), concerned primarily with description of the parameters of a population in regards to a variable or variables. Chamberlain (2000, p.290) notes that in quantitative analysis description is seen as a perfectly valid and desirable outcome. Ajwani et al.’s (2003) Decades of Disparity: Ethnic mortality trends in New Zealand 1980 – 1999, which counts and compares mortality across ethnic and gender and age categories in New Zealand, is an example of quantitative analysis.
Qualitative research, on the other hand, can be described as “the nonnumerical examination and interpretation of observations, for the purpose of discovering underlying meanings and patterns of relationships” (Babbie, 2007, p.378). It is concerned more with the ‘how’ and the ‘why’ than with precise measurements. Chamberlain, (2000, p.286) notes an increasing acceptance of qualitative work in sociology, health psychology and other fields, and suggests that this is indicative of “changing notions” of what constitutes research. Qualitative methods include participant observation, content analysis, case-studies, life histories and interviews (Babbie, 2007, p.377), such as those conducted by Hargreaves for her study Constructing families and kinship through donor insemination (2006). What all these quantitative and qualitative methods have in common is that they are critical, reflexive, and disciplined (Bilton et al., 1996, p.100), they are systematic and methodical attempts to accurately describe and understand the social world.
Having now described how social scientists investigate the social world, we turn to the politics of research. What is meant by the ‘politics of research’? Gelles (2007, p.42) uses the term to mean “how research is utilized, abused, and misused in policy and practice”. Similarly Babbie (2007, pp.74, 77) writes that political issues in social research are concerned with the findings of the research and how these are used, noting that “there is probably a political dimension to every attempt to study human social behaviour.” The politics of research therefore refers to how research is applied, and what it means to various interested parties or ‘stake holders’.
Giddens (1997, p.551) notes that “sociological research is rarely of interest only to the intellectual community of sociologists... [but is] ...often disseminated more widely.” Among those interested are members of the public, the government and the media. Social scientists study contentious issues, phenomena that people have much invested in. Members of the public care less about the extinction of a particular forest species or the mechanics of light and sound than they do about their children’s education, their access to healthcare, gender inequalities in the workplace or their likelihood of finding themselves unemployed. The findings of social scientists often inform the ‘common sense’ opinions of the public (Giddens, 1997, p.551), and thus members of the public are stake holders in research.
Politicians are also interested in social research. Social science especially is open to political interference because it is concerned with social life, and this is also the domain of Politics, the arena of policy-making and government (Babbie, 2007, p.79). Politicians need research done; Hodgetts et al. (2004, p.457) note that government can act on issues brought to its attention by social research, as the New Zealand government did with the findings of Decades of Disparity by addressing the health inequalities the report identified as existing between Maori and Pacific populations and the wider population. The authors of the study, Ajwani et al. (2003, p.1), also assert that governments need “reliable and valid information on population health outcomes, how equitably these outcomes are distributed, and the causes or determinants of both the level and distribution of these health outcomes” to reach their health goals. Governments use the information provided by social researchers to decide both where to intervene and how effective these interventions are.
Babbie (2007, p.77) notes that social research is intimately bound up with policy-making and government, and as an example he notes Laumann’s proposed 1987 studies of human sexual behaviour at different stages of life, requested by the National Institutes of Health to direct funding to populations at risk of HIV/AIDS in the United States. Politicians decried this proposed research as being intended to legitimate homosexuality, and diverted the requested public funding to ‘abstinence-only’ sex education for teens. Laumann therefore had to apply for funding from private foundations, and published his findings some years later (The Social Organisation of Sexuality, 1994), but the above is illustrative of the intertwined nature of Politics and social research, and of the fact that politics come into play in research inquiries even before the research is conducted. In this case, the politics of research and funding limited the size and extent of the study.
Another example of the intersection of Politics and research given by Babbie (2007, pp.77-78) is census data, which is collected every few years in different states around the world and used to determine proportionate representation. Parties that have reliable voting blocks (for instance, the Democrats in the United States, who rely on the fact that the urban poor overwhelmingly vote Democratic) are resistant to changes in counting or method, as this might weaken their position. Political parties are important stake holders in social research.
One of the most important ways that social research findings are disseminated is through the news media. Hodgetts et al. (2004, p. 458, 470) note that policy makers are part of the audience of the mediated reporting of research findings, and argue that addressing media coverage of research is important because the media is an important influence on policy formation, as politicians take the content of media reports as a good indication of what the public understands and supports. Hodgetts et al. (2004, pp.455, 458 & 470) note that in New Zealand as in other former colonial societies, media and government are dominated by the heirs to the colonising power (in New Zealand, by Pakeha), and there is a real media reluctance to report research findings that challenge the status quo and advocate societal change, with the effect that such findings are often misrepresented by the media [as was the case with the Decades of Disparity report, which media commentators characterised as attributing Maori and Pacific peoples’ greater ill-health and higher mortality to their own ineptitude and carelessness when the study itself had stressed structural explanations]; this means that researchers “need to become more actively involved in issue management”. Babbie (2007, p.80), citing Gans (2002), notes that social scientists have an obligation to speak out on social issues, because social scientists have in-depth knowledge of society and social inequalities, and can therefore shed much light on contentious issues.
This position is shared by Marxists and Neo-Marxists, who often believe that research should inspire and contribute to activism for social change, that research which stops at description and explanation of social phenomenon can be used to legitimate or justify existing inequalities, and as such it is irresponsible for researchers to ignore the social consequences of their research (Babbie, 2007, p.75). Certainly social researchers often become deeply committed to and involved with civil rights movements, such as the anti-segregation movements in the United States (Babbie, 2007, p.76).
Babbie (2007, pp.74-75) notes that in research “there are no formal codes of accepted political conduct” as there are ethical codes, but that it is generally accepted that a researcher’s own political views should be kept out of their research, they should try to be objective, to aspire to Weber’s value-free sociology. This means avoiding the temptation to distort one’s own research findings or use “shoddy techniques” to further one’s own political agenda, as is occasionally the case. Exodus International in the United States, for example, is known for publishing substandard articles and misrepresenting the research of others to achieve their political goals (Grace, 2008, p.547). But perhaps social scientists cannot in fact be objective, as human beings studying the behaviour of other human beings; if so, then perhaps the most that can be achieved is a degree of intersubjectivity, whereby anyone, regardless of their personal political views, should be able to come to the same conclusions using the appropriate techniques (Babbie, 2007, p.75).
Postmodern perspectives, which consider all claims to ‘truth’ equally valid, are increasingly being adopted by social researchers, and a principle tenet of postmodern social analysis is the assumption that objectivity is impossible (Bilton et al., 1996, pp.102, 129, 610). Babbie (2007, pp.76-77, 78) argues that “social research in relation to contested social issues simply cannot remain antiseptically objective,” and notes that doing research on hot topics opens the researcher up to a great deal of backlash. A researcher can come under personal attack from people who feel threatened by their findings, even within academia, other researchers who are attached to established wisdom or ideology can savage the work of others. It can be difficult, in such contexts, not to overstate or underplay the significance of one’s findings, and given the time and effort that has gone into the research process it is understandable that researchers may be defensive about their work. Impartiality in regards to one’s work is difficult, if not impossible. And yet it remains true that conflict in science actually benefits in that it serves as a source of inspiration, directs inquiry and forces researchers to refine their arguments, (Babbie, 2007, p.80).
In sum, there is more to research than just conducting a study; the research process is at all stages bound up in political concerns. What is eventually studied is influenced from the outset by the researcher’s own biases and interests, as well as by practical limitations such as securing adequate funding. In conducting the actual research, the researcher must be careful to remain as intellectually honest and objective as possible, and yet we should be aware that this may prove difficult and that certainly in some cases, the researcher’s personal political views have influenced their findings and the presentation of those findings. Researchers should be especially aware of these concerns where the research or its findings are particularly contentious. In conducting social research, they should be aware also that their findings may become part of wider public discourse, informing public opinion and government policy, and as such, that their research may have very real consequences for people in society. Further, researchers should be aware that their research is subject to interpretation by media and that their findings may be misinterpreted or perhaps appropriated by interest groups that will misrepresent them, and therefore be prepared to engage with media to minimise such occurrences.
References
Ajwani, S., Blakely, T., Robson, B., Tobias, M. & Bonne, M. (2003) Decades of Disparity: Ethnic mortality trends in New Zealand 1980 - 1999. Wellington, New Zealand: Ministry of Health & University of Otago [extracts], pp.i-14, 45-54.
Babbie, E. (2007). The Practice of Social Research (11th Ed.), Belmont, California: Thomson Wadsworth.
Bilton, T., Bonnett, K., Jones, P., Sheard, K., Stanworth, M., Webster, A. (1996). Introductory Sociology, (3rd Ed). Macmillan Press: London.
Chamberlain, K. (2000). Methodolatry and qualitative health research. Journal of Health Psychology, 5(3), 285-296.
Gelles, R. J. (2007). The politics of research: The use, abuse, and misuse of social science data – the cases of Intimate Partner Violence. Family Court Review, 45(1), 42–51.
Retrieved 10/09/09 from
http://www.familieslink.co.uk/download/july07/Politics%20of%20research.pdf
Giddens, A. (1997). Sociology (3rd Ed). Polity Press: Cambridge.
Grace, A. (2008). The Charisma and Deception of Reparative Therapies: When Medical Science Beds Religion. Journal of Homosexuality, 55(4), 545-580.
Retrieved 20/09/09 from
http://pdfserve.informaworld.com.ezproxy.massey.ac.nz/114641_751308139_906684075.pdf
Hargreaves, K. (2006). Constructing families and kinship through donor insemination. Sociology of Health & Illness, 28(3), 261-283.
Hodgetts, D., Masters, B., & Robertson, N. (2004). Media coverage of ‘Decades of Disparity’ in ethnic mortality in Aotearoa. Journal of Community and
Applied Social Psychology, 14,455-472.
McLennan, G., Ryan, A. & Spoonley, P. (2004). Exploring Society: Sociology for New Zealand students (2nd Ed.), Pearson Education: New Zealand,
pp. 77-95.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
It Has To Be Said...
The Strange, Strange Story of the Gay Fascists
By Johann Hari
Retrieved 02/09/09 from
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/johann-hari/the-strange-strange-story_b_136697.html
The news that Jorg Haider - the Austrian fascist leader - spent his final few hours in a gay bar with a hot blond has shocked some people. It hasn't shocked me. This is a taboo topic for a gay left-wing man like me to touch, but there has always been a weird, disproportionate overlap between homosexuality and fascism. Take a deep breath; here goes.
Some 10,000 gay people were slaughtered in the Nazi death-camps. Many more were humiliated, jailed, deported, ethnically cleansed, or castrated. One gay survivor of the camps, LD Classen von Neudegg, has written about his experiences. A snapshot: "Three men had tried to escape one night. They were captured, and when they returned they had the word 'homo' scrawled across their clothing. They were placed on a block and whipped. Then they were forced to beat a drum and cheer, 'Hurrah! We're back! Hurrah!' Then they were hanged." This is one of the milder events documented in his book.
So the idea of a gay fascist seems ridiculous. Yet when the British National Party - our own home-grown Holocaust-denying bigots - announced it was fielding an openly gay candidate in the European elections this June, dedicated followers of fascism didn't blink. The twisted truth is that gay men have been at the heart of every major fascist movement that ever was - including the gay-gassing, homo-cidal Third Reich. With the exception of Jean-Marie Le Pen, all the most high-profile fascists in Europe in the past thirty years have been gay. It's time to admit something. Fascism isn't something that happens out there, a nasty habit acquired by the straight boys. It is - in part, at least - a gay thing, and it's time for non-fascist gay people to wake up and face the marching music.
Just look at our own continent over the past decade. Dutch fascist Pim Fortuyn ran on blatantly racist anti-immigrant platform, describing Islam as "a cancer" and "the biggest threat to Western civilisation today." Yet with two little fluffy dogs and a Mamma complex, he was openly, flamboyantly gay. When accused by a political opponent of hating Arabs, he replied, "How can I hate Arabs? I sucked one off last night."
Jorg Haider blasted Austria's cosy post-Nazi politics to rubble in 2000 when his neo-fascist 'Freedom Party' won a quarter of the vote and joined the country's government as a coalition partner. Several facts always cropped up in the international press coverage: his square jaw, his muscled torso, his SS-supporting father, his rabid anti-Semitism, his hatred of immigrants, his description of Auschwitz and Dachau as "punishment centres". A few newspapers mentioned that he is always surrounded by fit, fanatical young men. A handful went further and pointed out that several of these young men are openly gay. Then one left-wing German paper broke the story everybody else was hinting at. They alleged Haider is gay.
Rumours of an Indian waiter with "intimate details" of Haider's body broke into the press. The Freedom Party's general manager Gerald Miscka quickly quit, amid accusations that he was Haider's lover. Haider's close gay friend Walter Kohler - who has been photographed showing off a holstered pistol while Haider chuckled - declared his opposition to outing politicians. Haider - who was married and has two children - kept quiet while his functionaries denied the rumours. The revelation that he died after leaving a gay bar suggests these rumours were true.
On and on it goes. If you inter-railed across Europe, only stopping with gay fascists, there aren't many sights you'd miss. France's leading post-war fascist was Edouard Pfieffer, who was not batting for the straight side. Germany's leading neo-Nazi all through the eighties was called Michael Kuhnen; he died of AIDS in 1991 a few years after coming out. Martin Lee, author of a study of European fascism, explains, "For Kuhnen, there was something supermacho about being a Nazi, as well as being a homosexual, both of which enforced his sense of living on the edge, of belonging to an elite that was destined to make an impact. He told a West German journalist that homosexuals were 'especially well-suited for our task, because they do not want ties to wife, children and family.'"
And it wouldn't be long before your whistlestop tour arrived in Britain. At first glance, our Nazis seem militantly straight. They have tried to disrupt gay parades, describe gay people as "evil", and BNP leader Nick Griffin reacted charmingly to the bombing of the Admiral Duncan pub in 1999 with a column saying, "The TV footage of gay demonstrators [outside the scene of carnage] flaunting their perversion in front of the world's journalists showed just why so many ordinary people find these creatures repulsive."
But scratch to homophobic surface and there's a spandex swastika underneath. In 1999, Martin Webster, a former National Front organiser and head honcho in the British fascist movement, wrote a four-page pamphlet detailing his 'affair' with Nick Griffin. "Griffin sought out intimate relations with me," openly-gay Webster explained, "in the late 1970s. He was twenty years younger than me." Ray Hill, who infiltrated the British fascist movement for twelve years to gather information for anti-fascist groups, says it's all too plausible. Homosexuality is "extremely prevalent" in the upper echelons of the British far right, and at one stage in the 1980s nearly half of the movement's organisers were gay, he claims.
Gerry Gable, editor of the anti-fascist magazine 'Searchlight', explains, "I have looked at Britain's Nazi groups for decades and this homophobic hypocrisy has been there all the time. I cannot think of any organisation on the extreme right that hasn't attacked people on the grounds of their sexual preference and at the same time contained many gay officers and activists."
Griffins' alleged gay affair would stand in a long British fascist tradition. The leader of the skinhead movement all through the 1970s was a crazed, muscled thug called Nicky Crane. He was the icon of a reactionary backlash against immigrants, feminism and the 'hippy' lifetsyle of the 1960s. His movement's emphasis on conformity to a shaven, dehumanised norm resembled classical fascist movements; Crane soon became a campaigner and leading figure in the National Front. Oh, and he was gay. Before he died of AIDS in the mid-1980s, Crane came out and admitted he had starred in many gay porn videos. Just before he died in 1986, he was allowed to steward a Gay Pride march in London, even though he still said he was "proud to be a fascist."
The rubber-soled friction between gay fascists and progressive British gay people sparked into anger in 1985 when the Gay Skinhead Movement organised a disco at London's Gay Centre. Several lesbians in particular objected to the "invasion" of the centre. They felt that the cult of "real men" and hypermasculine thugs was stirring up the most base feelings "in the very place, the gay movement, where you would least expect them."
And this Gaystapo has an icon to revere, an alternative Fuhrer to worship: the lost gay fascist leader Ernst Rohm. Along with Adolf Hitler, Rohm was the founding father of Nazism. Born to conservative Bavarian civil servants in 1887, Ernst Rohm's life began - in his view - in the "heroic" trenches of the First World War. Like so many of the generation who formed the Nazi Party, he was nurtured by and obsessed with the homoerotic myth of the trenches - heroic, beautiful boys prepared to die for their brothers and their country.
He emerged from the war with a bullet-scarred face and a reverence for war. As he put it in his autobiography, "Since I am an immature and wicked man, war and unrest appeal to me more than the good bourgeois order." After being disbanded, he tried half-heartedly to get a foothold in civilian life, but he saw it as alien, bourgeois, boring. He had no political beliefs, only prejudices - particularly hatred of Jews. Historian Joachim Fest describes Rohm's generation of alienated, demobbed young men humiliated by defeat as "agents of a permanent revolution without any revolutionary idea of the future, only a wish to eternalize the values of the trenches."
It was Rohm who first spotted the potential of a soap-box ranter called Adolf Hitler. He saw him as the demagogue he needed to mobilize support for his plan to overthrow democracy and establish a "soldier's state" where the army ruled untrammelled. He introduced the young fascist to local politicians and military leaders; they knew him for many years as "Rohm's boy." Gay historian Frank Rector notes, "Hitler was, to a substantial extent, Rohm's protégé." Rohm integrated Hitler into his underground movement to overthrow the Weimar Republic.
Rohm's blatant, out homosexuality seems bizarre now, given the gay genocide that was to follow. He talked openly about his fondness for gay bars and Turkish baths, and was known for his virility. He believed that gay people were superior to straights, and saw homosexuality as a key principle of his proposed Brave New Fascist Order. As historian Louis Snyder explains, Rohm "projected a social order in which homosexuality would be regarded as a human behaviour pattern of high repute... He flaunted his homosexuality in public and insisted his cronies do the same. He believed straight people weren't as adept at bullying and aggression as homosexuals, so homosexuality was given a high premium in the SA." They promoted an aggressive, hypermasculine form of homosexuality, condemning "hysterical women of both sexes", in reference to feminine gay men.
This belief in the superiority of homosexuality had a strong German tradition that grew up at the turn of the twentieth century around Adolf Brand, publisher of the country's first gay magazine. You could call it 'Queer as Volk': they preached that gay men were the foundation of all nation-states and represented an elite, warrior caste that should rule. They venerated the ancient warrior cults of Sparta, Thebes and Athens.
Rohm often referred to the ancient Greek tradition of sending gay solider couples into battle, because they were believed to be the most ferocious fighters. The famous pass of Thermopylae, for example was held by 300 soldiers - who consisted of 150 gay couples. In its early years, the SA - Hitler and Rohm's underground army - was seen as predominantly gay. Rohm assigned prominent posts to his lovers, making Edmund Heines his deputy and Karl Ernst the SA commander in Berlin. The organisation would sometimes meet in gay bars. The gay art historian Christian Isermayer said in an interview, "I got to know people in the SA. They used to throw riotous parties even in 1933... I once attended one. It was quite well-behaved but thoroughly gay. But then, in those days, the SA was ultra-gay."
On June 30th 1934, Rohm was awoken in a Berlin hotel by Hitler himself. He sprang to his feet and saluted, calling, "Heil Mein Fuhrer!" Hitler said simply, "You are under arrest," and with that he left the room, giving orders for Rohm to be taken to Standelheim prison. He was shot that night. Rohm was the most high-profile kill in the massacre known as 'the Night of the Long Knives'.
Rohm had been suspected by Hitler of disloyalty, but his murder began a massive crackdown on gay people. Heinrich Himmler, head of the Gestapo, described homosexuality as "a symptom of degeneracy that could destroy our race. We must return to the guiding Nordic principle: extermination of degenerates."
German historian Lothar Machtan argues that Hitler had Rohm - and almost all of the large number of gay figures within the SA - killed to silence speculation about his own homosexual experiences. His 'evidence' for Hitler being gay is shaky and has been questioned by many historians, although some of his findings are at least suggestive. A close friend of Hitler's during his teenager years, August Kubizek, alleged a "romantic" affair between them. Hans Mend, a despatch rider who served alongside Hitler in the First World War, claimed to have seen Hitler having sex with a man. Hitler was certainly very close to several gay men, and never seems to have had a normal sexual relationship with a woman, not even his wife, Eva Braun.
Rudolph Diels, the founder of the Gestapo, recorded some of Hitler's private thoughts on homosexuality. "It had destroyed ancient Greece, he said. Once rife, it extended its contagious effects like an ineluctable law of nature to the best and most manly of characters, eliminating from the breeding pool the very men the Volk most needs." This idea - that homosexuality is 'contagious' and, implicitly, tempting - is revealing.
Rohm is venerated on the Homo-Nazi sites that have bred on the internet like germs in a wound. They have names like Gays Against Semitism (with the charming acronym GAS), and the Aryan Resistance Corps (ARC). Their Rohmite philosophy is simple: while white men are superior to other races, gay men are "the masters of the Master Race". They alone are endowed with the "capacity for pure male bonding" and the "superior intellect" that is needed for "a fascist revolution." The ARC even organises holiday "get-togethers" for its members where "you can relax amongst the company of our fellow white brothers."
So it's fairly easy to establish that gay people are not inoculated from fascism. They have often been at its heart. This begs the bigger question: why? How did gay people - so often victims of oppression and hate - become integral to the most hateful and evil political movement of all? Is it just an extreme form of self-harm, the political equivalent to the gay kids who slash their own arms to ribbons out of self-hate?
Gay pornographer and film-maker Bruce LaBruce has one explanation. He claims that "all gay porn today is implictly fascist. Fascism is in our bones, because it's all about glorifying white male supremacy and fetishizing domination, cruelty, power and monstrous authority figures." He has tried to explore the relationship between homosexuality and fascism in his movies, beginning with 'No Skin Off My Ass' in 1991. In his disturbing 1999 film "Skin Flick', a bourgeois gay couple - one black, one white - are sexually terrorised by a gang of gay skinheads who beat off to 'Mein Kampf' and beat up 'femmes'. He implies that bourgeois gay norms quickly break down to reveal a fascist lurking underneath; the movie ends with the black character being raped in front of his half-aroused white lover, as the racist gang chant, "Fuck the monkey."
I decided to track down some gay fascists and ask them directly. Wyatt Powers, director of the ARC, says, "I always knew in my heart racist and gay were both morally right. I don't see any conflict between them. It's only the Jew-owned gay press that tries to convince us that racialism is the same thing as homophobia. You can be an extreme nationalist and gay without any contradiction at all."
One comment board on a gay racist website goes even further into racist lunacy. One gay man from Ohio says, "Even if you are gay and white, or retarded and white, YOU ARE WHITE, BOTTOM LINE! Instead of letting the white race go extinct because of worthless races such as the Africans or Mexicans popping out literally millions of babies a day, we have to fight this fucked up shit they are doing. They are raping our country." It's true that racism and homophobia do not necessarily overlap - but as Rabbi Bernard Melchman explains, "Homophobia and anti-Semitism are so often part of the same disease." Racists are usually homophobic. Even after reading all their web rantings, I didn't feel any closer to understanding why so many gay men ally themselves with people who will almost always turn on them in the end, just as the Nazis did.
Gay rights campaigner Peter Tatchell has a sensitive and intriguing explanation. "There are many reasons for this kind of thing," he says. "Some of them are in denial. They are going for hyper-masculinity, the most extreme possible way of being a man. It's a way of ostentatiously rejecting the perceived effeminacy of the homosexual 'Other'. These troubled men have a simple belief in their minds: 'Straight men are tough. Queers are weak. Therefore if I'm tough I can't be queer.' It's a desperate way of proving their manhood."
'Searchlight' magazine - the bible of the British anti-fascist movement, with moles in every major far-right organisation - offers an alternative explanation. "Generally condemned by a society that continues to be largely hostile to gays, some men may find refuge and a new power status in the far right," one of their writers has explained. "Through adherence to the politics espoused by fascist groups, a new identity emerges - one where they aren't outcasts, because they are White Men, superior to everyone else. They render the gay part of their identity invisible - or reject the socially less acceptable parts, like being feminine - while vaunting what they see as superior."
But there's another important question: will fascist movements inevitably turn on gay people? In the case of the Nazis, it seems to have been fairly arbitrary; Hitler's main reason for killing Rohm was unrelated to his sexuality. From my perspective as a progressive-minded leftie, all fascism is evil; but should all gay people see it as inimical to their interests? Is it possible to have a gay fascist who wasn't acting against his own interests? Fascism is often defined as "a political ideology advocating hierarchical government that systematically denies equality to certain groups." It's true that this hierarchy could benefit gay people at the expense of, say, black people. But given the prevalence of homophobia, isn't that - even for people who don't see fascism as inherently evil - a terrible risk to take? Won't a culture that turns viciously on one minority get around to gay people in the end? This seems, ultimately, to be the lesson of Ernst Rohm's pitiful, squalid little life.
The growing awareness of the role gay men play in fascist movements has been abused by some homophobes. In an especially nutty work of revisionist history called 'The Pink Swastika', the 'historian' Scott Lively tries to blame gay people for the entire Holocaust, and describes the murder of gay men in the camps as merely "gay-on-gay violence." A typical website commenting on the book claims absurdly, "The Pink Swastika shows that there was far more brutality, rape, torture and murder committed against innocent people by Nazi homosexuals than there even was against homosexuals themselves."
Yet we can't allow these madmen to prevent a period of serious self-reflection from the gay movement. If Bruce LaBruce is right, many of the mainstream elements of gay culture - body worship, the lauding of the strong, a fetish for authority figures and cruelty - provide a swamp in which the fascist virus can thrive. Do some gay people really still need to learn that fascists will not bring on a Fabulous Solution for gay people, but a Final Solution for us all?
Johann Hari is a writer for the Independent newspaper.
By Johann Hari
Retrieved 02/09/09 from
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/johann-hari/the-strange-strange-story_b_136697.html
The news that Jorg Haider - the Austrian fascist leader - spent his final few hours in a gay bar with a hot blond has shocked some people. It hasn't shocked me. This is a taboo topic for a gay left-wing man like me to touch, but there has always been a weird, disproportionate overlap between homosexuality and fascism. Take a deep breath; here goes.
Some 10,000 gay people were slaughtered in the Nazi death-camps. Many more were humiliated, jailed, deported, ethnically cleansed, or castrated. One gay survivor of the camps, LD Classen von Neudegg, has written about his experiences. A snapshot: "Three men had tried to escape one night. They were captured, and when they returned they had the word 'homo' scrawled across their clothing. They were placed on a block and whipped. Then they were forced to beat a drum and cheer, 'Hurrah! We're back! Hurrah!' Then they were hanged." This is one of the milder events documented in his book.
So the idea of a gay fascist seems ridiculous. Yet when the British National Party - our own home-grown Holocaust-denying bigots - announced it was fielding an openly gay candidate in the European elections this June, dedicated followers of fascism didn't blink. The twisted truth is that gay men have been at the heart of every major fascist movement that ever was - including the gay-gassing, homo-cidal Third Reich. With the exception of Jean-Marie Le Pen, all the most high-profile fascists in Europe in the past thirty years have been gay. It's time to admit something. Fascism isn't something that happens out there, a nasty habit acquired by the straight boys. It is - in part, at least - a gay thing, and it's time for non-fascist gay people to wake up and face the marching music.
Just look at our own continent over the past decade. Dutch fascist Pim Fortuyn ran on blatantly racist anti-immigrant platform, describing Islam as "a cancer" and "the biggest threat to Western civilisation today." Yet with two little fluffy dogs and a Mamma complex, he was openly, flamboyantly gay. When accused by a political opponent of hating Arabs, he replied, "How can I hate Arabs? I sucked one off last night."
Jorg Haider blasted Austria's cosy post-Nazi politics to rubble in 2000 when his neo-fascist 'Freedom Party' won a quarter of the vote and joined the country's government as a coalition partner. Several facts always cropped up in the international press coverage: his square jaw, his muscled torso, his SS-supporting father, his rabid anti-Semitism, his hatred of immigrants, his description of Auschwitz and Dachau as "punishment centres". A few newspapers mentioned that he is always surrounded by fit, fanatical young men. A handful went further and pointed out that several of these young men are openly gay. Then one left-wing German paper broke the story everybody else was hinting at. They alleged Haider is gay.
Rumours of an Indian waiter with "intimate details" of Haider's body broke into the press. The Freedom Party's general manager Gerald Miscka quickly quit, amid accusations that he was Haider's lover. Haider's close gay friend Walter Kohler - who has been photographed showing off a holstered pistol while Haider chuckled - declared his opposition to outing politicians. Haider - who was married and has two children - kept quiet while his functionaries denied the rumours. The revelation that he died after leaving a gay bar suggests these rumours were true.
On and on it goes. If you inter-railed across Europe, only stopping with gay fascists, there aren't many sights you'd miss. France's leading post-war fascist was Edouard Pfieffer, who was not batting for the straight side. Germany's leading neo-Nazi all through the eighties was called Michael Kuhnen; he died of AIDS in 1991 a few years after coming out. Martin Lee, author of a study of European fascism, explains, "For Kuhnen, there was something supermacho about being a Nazi, as well as being a homosexual, both of which enforced his sense of living on the edge, of belonging to an elite that was destined to make an impact. He told a West German journalist that homosexuals were 'especially well-suited for our task, because they do not want ties to wife, children and family.'"
And it wouldn't be long before your whistlestop tour arrived in Britain. At first glance, our Nazis seem militantly straight. They have tried to disrupt gay parades, describe gay people as "evil", and BNP leader Nick Griffin reacted charmingly to the bombing of the Admiral Duncan pub in 1999 with a column saying, "The TV footage of gay demonstrators [outside the scene of carnage] flaunting their perversion in front of the world's journalists showed just why so many ordinary people find these creatures repulsive."
But scratch to homophobic surface and there's a spandex swastika underneath. In 1999, Martin Webster, a former National Front organiser and head honcho in the British fascist movement, wrote a four-page pamphlet detailing his 'affair' with Nick Griffin. "Griffin sought out intimate relations with me," openly-gay Webster explained, "in the late 1970s. He was twenty years younger than me." Ray Hill, who infiltrated the British fascist movement for twelve years to gather information for anti-fascist groups, says it's all too plausible. Homosexuality is "extremely prevalent" in the upper echelons of the British far right, and at one stage in the 1980s nearly half of the movement's organisers were gay, he claims.
Gerry Gable, editor of the anti-fascist magazine 'Searchlight', explains, "I have looked at Britain's Nazi groups for decades and this homophobic hypocrisy has been there all the time. I cannot think of any organisation on the extreme right that hasn't attacked people on the grounds of their sexual preference and at the same time contained many gay officers and activists."
Griffins' alleged gay affair would stand in a long British fascist tradition. The leader of the skinhead movement all through the 1970s was a crazed, muscled thug called Nicky Crane. He was the icon of a reactionary backlash against immigrants, feminism and the 'hippy' lifetsyle of the 1960s. His movement's emphasis on conformity to a shaven, dehumanised norm resembled classical fascist movements; Crane soon became a campaigner and leading figure in the National Front. Oh, and he was gay. Before he died of AIDS in the mid-1980s, Crane came out and admitted he had starred in many gay porn videos. Just before he died in 1986, he was allowed to steward a Gay Pride march in London, even though he still said he was "proud to be a fascist."
The rubber-soled friction between gay fascists and progressive British gay people sparked into anger in 1985 when the Gay Skinhead Movement organised a disco at London's Gay Centre. Several lesbians in particular objected to the "invasion" of the centre. They felt that the cult of "real men" and hypermasculine thugs was stirring up the most base feelings "in the very place, the gay movement, where you would least expect them."
And this Gaystapo has an icon to revere, an alternative Fuhrer to worship: the lost gay fascist leader Ernst Rohm. Along with Adolf Hitler, Rohm was the founding father of Nazism. Born to conservative Bavarian civil servants in 1887, Ernst Rohm's life began - in his view - in the "heroic" trenches of the First World War. Like so many of the generation who formed the Nazi Party, he was nurtured by and obsessed with the homoerotic myth of the trenches - heroic, beautiful boys prepared to die for their brothers and their country.
He emerged from the war with a bullet-scarred face and a reverence for war. As he put it in his autobiography, "Since I am an immature and wicked man, war and unrest appeal to me more than the good bourgeois order." After being disbanded, he tried half-heartedly to get a foothold in civilian life, but he saw it as alien, bourgeois, boring. He had no political beliefs, only prejudices - particularly hatred of Jews. Historian Joachim Fest describes Rohm's generation of alienated, demobbed young men humiliated by defeat as "agents of a permanent revolution without any revolutionary idea of the future, only a wish to eternalize the values of the trenches."
It was Rohm who first spotted the potential of a soap-box ranter called Adolf Hitler. He saw him as the demagogue he needed to mobilize support for his plan to overthrow democracy and establish a "soldier's state" where the army ruled untrammelled. He introduced the young fascist to local politicians and military leaders; they knew him for many years as "Rohm's boy." Gay historian Frank Rector notes, "Hitler was, to a substantial extent, Rohm's protégé." Rohm integrated Hitler into his underground movement to overthrow the Weimar Republic.
Rohm's blatant, out homosexuality seems bizarre now, given the gay genocide that was to follow. He talked openly about his fondness for gay bars and Turkish baths, and was known for his virility. He believed that gay people were superior to straights, and saw homosexuality as a key principle of his proposed Brave New Fascist Order. As historian Louis Snyder explains, Rohm "projected a social order in which homosexuality would be regarded as a human behaviour pattern of high repute... He flaunted his homosexuality in public and insisted his cronies do the same. He believed straight people weren't as adept at bullying and aggression as homosexuals, so homosexuality was given a high premium in the SA." They promoted an aggressive, hypermasculine form of homosexuality, condemning "hysterical women of both sexes", in reference to feminine gay men.
This belief in the superiority of homosexuality had a strong German tradition that grew up at the turn of the twentieth century around Adolf Brand, publisher of the country's first gay magazine. You could call it 'Queer as Volk': they preached that gay men were the foundation of all nation-states and represented an elite, warrior caste that should rule. They venerated the ancient warrior cults of Sparta, Thebes and Athens.
Rohm often referred to the ancient Greek tradition of sending gay solider couples into battle, because they were believed to be the most ferocious fighters. The famous pass of Thermopylae, for example was held by 300 soldiers - who consisted of 150 gay couples. In its early years, the SA - Hitler and Rohm's underground army - was seen as predominantly gay. Rohm assigned prominent posts to his lovers, making Edmund Heines his deputy and Karl Ernst the SA commander in Berlin. The organisation would sometimes meet in gay bars. The gay art historian Christian Isermayer said in an interview, "I got to know people in the SA. They used to throw riotous parties even in 1933... I once attended one. It was quite well-behaved but thoroughly gay. But then, in those days, the SA was ultra-gay."
On June 30th 1934, Rohm was awoken in a Berlin hotel by Hitler himself. He sprang to his feet and saluted, calling, "Heil Mein Fuhrer!" Hitler said simply, "You are under arrest," and with that he left the room, giving orders for Rohm to be taken to Standelheim prison. He was shot that night. Rohm was the most high-profile kill in the massacre known as 'the Night of the Long Knives'.
Rohm had been suspected by Hitler of disloyalty, but his murder began a massive crackdown on gay people. Heinrich Himmler, head of the Gestapo, described homosexuality as "a symptom of degeneracy that could destroy our race. We must return to the guiding Nordic principle: extermination of degenerates."
German historian Lothar Machtan argues that Hitler had Rohm - and almost all of the large number of gay figures within the SA - killed to silence speculation about his own homosexual experiences. His 'evidence' for Hitler being gay is shaky and has been questioned by many historians, although some of his findings are at least suggestive. A close friend of Hitler's during his teenager years, August Kubizek, alleged a "romantic" affair between them. Hans Mend, a despatch rider who served alongside Hitler in the First World War, claimed to have seen Hitler having sex with a man. Hitler was certainly very close to several gay men, and never seems to have had a normal sexual relationship with a woman, not even his wife, Eva Braun.
Rudolph Diels, the founder of the Gestapo, recorded some of Hitler's private thoughts on homosexuality. "It had destroyed ancient Greece, he said. Once rife, it extended its contagious effects like an ineluctable law of nature to the best and most manly of characters, eliminating from the breeding pool the very men the Volk most needs." This idea - that homosexuality is 'contagious' and, implicitly, tempting - is revealing.
Rohm is venerated on the Homo-Nazi sites that have bred on the internet like germs in a wound. They have names like Gays Against Semitism (with the charming acronym GAS), and the Aryan Resistance Corps (ARC). Their Rohmite philosophy is simple: while white men are superior to other races, gay men are "the masters of the Master Race". They alone are endowed with the "capacity for pure male bonding" and the "superior intellect" that is needed for "a fascist revolution." The ARC even organises holiday "get-togethers" for its members where "you can relax amongst the company of our fellow white brothers."
So it's fairly easy to establish that gay people are not inoculated from fascism. They have often been at its heart. This begs the bigger question: why? How did gay people - so often victims of oppression and hate - become integral to the most hateful and evil political movement of all? Is it just an extreme form of self-harm, the political equivalent to the gay kids who slash their own arms to ribbons out of self-hate?
Gay pornographer and film-maker Bruce LaBruce has one explanation. He claims that "all gay porn today is implictly fascist. Fascism is in our bones, because it's all about glorifying white male supremacy and fetishizing domination, cruelty, power and monstrous authority figures." He has tried to explore the relationship between homosexuality and fascism in his movies, beginning with 'No Skin Off My Ass' in 1991. In his disturbing 1999 film "Skin Flick', a bourgeois gay couple - one black, one white - are sexually terrorised by a gang of gay skinheads who beat off to 'Mein Kampf' and beat up 'femmes'. He implies that bourgeois gay norms quickly break down to reveal a fascist lurking underneath; the movie ends with the black character being raped in front of his half-aroused white lover, as the racist gang chant, "Fuck the monkey."
I decided to track down some gay fascists and ask them directly. Wyatt Powers, director of the ARC, says, "I always knew in my heart racist and gay were both morally right. I don't see any conflict between them. It's only the Jew-owned gay press that tries to convince us that racialism is the same thing as homophobia. You can be an extreme nationalist and gay without any contradiction at all."
One comment board on a gay racist website goes even further into racist lunacy. One gay man from Ohio says, "Even if you are gay and white, or retarded and white, YOU ARE WHITE, BOTTOM LINE! Instead of letting the white race go extinct because of worthless races such as the Africans or Mexicans popping out literally millions of babies a day, we have to fight this fucked up shit they are doing. They are raping our country." It's true that racism and homophobia do not necessarily overlap - but as Rabbi Bernard Melchman explains, "Homophobia and anti-Semitism are so often part of the same disease." Racists are usually homophobic. Even after reading all their web rantings, I didn't feel any closer to understanding why so many gay men ally themselves with people who will almost always turn on them in the end, just as the Nazis did.
Gay rights campaigner Peter Tatchell has a sensitive and intriguing explanation. "There are many reasons for this kind of thing," he says. "Some of them are in denial. They are going for hyper-masculinity, the most extreme possible way of being a man. It's a way of ostentatiously rejecting the perceived effeminacy of the homosexual 'Other'. These troubled men have a simple belief in their minds: 'Straight men are tough. Queers are weak. Therefore if I'm tough I can't be queer.' It's a desperate way of proving their manhood."
'Searchlight' magazine - the bible of the British anti-fascist movement, with moles in every major far-right organisation - offers an alternative explanation. "Generally condemned by a society that continues to be largely hostile to gays, some men may find refuge and a new power status in the far right," one of their writers has explained. "Through adherence to the politics espoused by fascist groups, a new identity emerges - one where they aren't outcasts, because they are White Men, superior to everyone else. They render the gay part of their identity invisible - or reject the socially less acceptable parts, like being feminine - while vaunting what they see as superior."
But there's another important question: will fascist movements inevitably turn on gay people? In the case of the Nazis, it seems to have been fairly arbitrary; Hitler's main reason for killing Rohm was unrelated to his sexuality. From my perspective as a progressive-minded leftie, all fascism is evil; but should all gay people see it as inimical to their interests? Is it possible to have a gay fascist who wasn't acting against his own interests? Fascism is often defined as "a political ideology advocating hierarchical government that systematically denies equality to certain groups." It's true that this hierarchy could benefit gay people at the expense of, say, black people. But given the prevalence of homophobia, isn't that - even for people who don't see fascism as inherently evil - a terrible risk to take? Won't a culture that turns viciously on one minority get around to gay people in the end? This seems, ultimately, to be the lesson of Ernst Rohm's pitiful, squalid little life.
The growing awareness of the role gay men play in fascist movements has been abused by some homophobes. In an especially nutty work of revisionist history called 'The Pink Swastika', the 'historian' Scott Lively tries to blame gay people for the entire Holocaust, and describes the murder of gay men in the camps as merely "gay-on-gay violence." A typical website commenting on the book claims absurdly, "The Pink Swastika shows that there was far more brutality, rape, torture and murder committed against innocent people by Nazi homosexuals than there even was against homosexuals themselves."
Yet we can't allow these madmen to prevent a period of serious self-reflection from the gay movement. If Bruce LaBruce is right, many of the mainstream elements of gay culture - body worship, the lauding of the strong, a fetish for authority figures and cruelty - provide a swamp in which the fascist virus can thrive. Do some gay people really still need to learn that fascists will not bring on a Fabulous Solution for gay people, but a Final Solution for us all?
Johann Hari is a writer for the Independent newspaper.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Cos I Can't Actually Be Bothered Writing Anything...
Cracker Lilo found this very good post about the Gay Generation Gap...
The Gay Generation Gap
Forty years after Stonewall, the gay movement has never been more united. So why do older gay men and younger ones often seem so far apart?
From http://nymag.com/guides/summer/2009/57467/
By Mark Harris Published Jun 21, 2009
This week, tens of thousands of gay people will converge on New York City for Pride Week, and tens of thousands of residents will come out to play as well. Some of us will indulge in clubbing and dancing, and some of us will bond over our ineptitude at both. Some of us will be in drag and some of us will roll our eyes at drag. We will rehash arguments so old that they’ve become a Pride Week staple; for instance, is the parade a joyous expression of liberation, or a counterproductive freak show dominated by needy exhibitionists and gawking news cameras? Other debates will be more freshly minted: Is President Obama’s procrastinatory approach to gay-rights issues an all-out betrayal, or just pragmatic incrementalism? We’ll have a good, long, energizing intra-family bull session about same-sex marriage and the New York State Senate, Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell and the Employment Non-Discrimination Act, Project Runway and Adam Lambert.
And at some point, a group of gay men in their forties or fifties will find themselves occupying the same bar or park or restaurant or subway car or patch of pavement as a group of gay men in their twenties. We will look at them. They will look at us. We will realize that we have absolutely nothing to say to one another.
And the gay generation gap will widen.
You hear the tone of brusque dismissiveness in private conversations, often fueled by a couple of drinks, and you see the irritation become combustible when it’s protected by Internet anonymity. On the well-trafficked chat site DataLounge, a self-described repository of “gay gossip, news, and pointless bitchery,” there’s no topic, from politics to locker-room etiquette to the proper locations for wearing cargo pants and flip-flops, that cannot quickly devolve into “What are you, 17?”–“What are you, some Stonewall-era relic?” sniping. And some not entirely dissimilar rhetoric is showing up in loftier media. In April, a 25-year-old right-of-center gay journalist argued in a Washington Post op-ed that many gay-rights groups are starting to outlive their purpose, and chided older activists for being stuck in “a mind-set that sees the plight of gay people as one of perpetual struggle … their life’s work depends on the notion that we are always and everywhere oppressed.” The scathing message-board replies pounded him at least as hard for his age as for his politics. “You twentysomething gays seem to think being out equals acceptance … Don’t be so quick to dissolve the organizations that made it possible for you to be so naïve,” wrote one reader. Another, blunter response: “Forgive me for not falling all over myself to do exactly what an inexperienced 25-year-old decrees … Don’t waltz in and start barking orders, little boy.”
Public infighting is a big minority-group taboo—it’s called taking your business out in the street. And it may seem strange to note this phenomenon at a juncture that, largely because of the fight for gay marriage, has been marked by impressive solidarity. But let’s have a look. Here’s the awful stuff, the deeply unfair (but maybe a little true) things that many middle-aged gay men say about their younger counterparts: They’re shallow. They’re silly. They reek of entitlement. They haven’t had to work for anything and therefore aren’t interested in anything that takes work. They’re profoundly ungrateful for the political and social gains we spent our own youth striving to obtain for them. They’re so sexually careless that you’d think a deadly worldwide epidemic was just an abstraction. They think old-fashioned What do we want! When do we want it! activism is icky and noisy. They toss around terms like “post-gay” without caring how hard we fought just to get all the way to “gay.”
And here’s the awful stuff they throw back at us—at 45, I write the word “us” from the graying side of the divide—a completely vicious slander (except that some of us are a little like this): We’re terminally depressed. We’re horrible scolds. We gas on about AIDS the way our parents or grandparents couldn’t stop talking about World War II. We act like we invented political action, and think the only way to accomplish something is by expressions of fury. We say we want change, but really what we want is to get off on our own victimhood. We’re made uncomfortable, or even jealous, by their easygoing confidence. We’re grim, prim, strident, self-ghettoizing, doctrinaire bores who think that if you’re not gloomy, you’re not worth taking seriously. Also, we’re probably cruising them.
To some extent, a generation gap in any subgroup with a history of struggle is good news, because it’s a sign of arrival. If you have to spend every minute fighting against social opprobrium, religious hatred, and governmental indifference, taking the time to grumble about generational issues would be a ridiculously off-mission luxury; there are no ageists in foxholes. But today, with the tide of history and public opinion finally (albeit fitfully) moving our way, we can afford to step back and exercise the same disrespect for our elders (or our juniors) as heterosexuals do. That’s progress, of a kind.
These unnuanced generalizations, as everyone who makes them quickly notes, do a gross injustice to both groups. The gay community—or more accurately, communities—is hardly monolithic, and its divisions, not just of age but of race, gender, region, and income, are too complex to paint with a broad brush. And Pride Week—which this year falls on the 40th anniversary of the Stonewall Inn riots—is a reminder that we have always been able to unite when faced with either a common cause or a common enemy. It’s when we’re not on the front lines that tensions flare. “On its simplest level,” says Jon Barrett, 40, the editor-in-chief of the 42-year-old gay magazine The Advocate, “we think they’re naïve. And they think we’re old.”
Even on those front lines, it’s a complex moment. Last November, eight days after the election, I found myself marching with thousands of gay men, lesbians, and friends of the cause from Lincoln Center to Columbus Circle to protest the passage of Proposition 8 in California. The air was charged; many of us were eager to call out the enemy—a well-organized, well-financed coalition of conservatives who were using churches as political-action bases designed to roll back civil rights for gay Americans. And our response was anger. We held up signs with slogans like TAX THIS CHURCH! We yelled ourselves hoarse.
But the demeanor of many of the young attendees felt unfamiliar to older protesters. They were smiling more than seething, and I noticed that many of their picket signs—LET ME GET MARRIED, LOVE ISN’T PREJUDICED, NYC LOVES GAY MARRIAGE—were more like let-the-sunshine-in expressions than clenched fists. Shouting did not come as naturally to them.
“There’s nothing duller than a young gay man whose curiosity about the world doesn’t appear to extend past his iPod.”
Activism is an unlikely realm in which to spot a generation gap; by definition, a rally attracts people who identify themselves by a shared goal. But it’s sometimes an uneasy union; the march marked an encounter between age groups that, although part of the same community, had previously spent little time together. And a difference in outlook was unmistakable. “After Prop 8 passed, a tremendous number of young people who had never been to a protest before wanted to release that energy,” says Corey Johnson, the event’s 27-year-old organizer. “And that night was a great example of the two generations being bridged in a productive way. But my impression is that there is a difference. Young people are, I think, upset, but it’s not with the level of anger that a lot of older folks feel, and perhaps there’s more hopefulness involved.”
To many young gay people, the passage of Prop 8 was shocking but not alarming; it has jolted them into action, but one suspects it’s out of a Milk-fed belief that identity-politics activism can be ennobling and cool. What doesn’t seem to be driving them is fear; their cheerful conviction that history is going their way seems unshakable compared to ours. That can lead to callousness on both sides; we patronizingly warn them that their optimism is dangerous; they patronizingly tell us that we’re too embittered by our own past struggles to see the big picture.
The notion that anger no longer has a primary place in the gay-rights movement can feel awfully uninformed to anyone raised on the protests of the late eighties, when say-it-loud outrage was one of the movement’s only effective weapons. To some of those whose identities as both homosexuals and activists were forged in the early years of the AIDS epidemic, this new aura of serenity is way too “Kumbaya.” It’s hard to overstate the centrality of the AIDS crisis in any gay generation gap (the divide between those who are currently 45 and their elders once yawned at least as wide). If you want to know where you stand in gay history, ask yourself where you were in 1982, when the disease took hold in public consciousness. If you were already sexually active by then and you’re still here to read this, you are someone who surely knows that fury has its uses. If you were in your teens, wondering how to take even your first steps into life as a gay man in a world in which a single encounter could become a death sentence, you understand fear, and its warping effects down through the decades. And if you were a kid, you grew up seeing AIDS as an unhappy fact of life.
But what about the ever-growing cohort of gay men who weren’t even born in 1982? For most of them, AIDS is not their past but the past. No wonder some of us feel frustrated; when we complain that young gay men don’t know their history, what we’re really saying is that they don’t know our history—that once again, we feel invisible, this time within our own ranks.
Were we that uninterested when we were that young? Actually, no, we weren’t; we were thirsty to acquire the vast range of knowledge, tastes, and encoded references that seemed to derive from some mysterious User’s Guide to Homosexuality, because even if we then rejected them, they still constituted a lingua franca (in an era well before LGBT studies programs or even many books on gay history made that kind of information easily accessible). Now, a familiarity with those movies, those plays, and those books will likely get you branded an “old queen” by people for whom “old” is by far the worse of those two epithets (unfortunately, a morbid fear of aging is one of the few ideas we seem to have done a good job instilling in the young).
For gay men who came of age 25 years ago in a tougher environment, knowing your (sub)cultural iconography was not only a way of connecting to past generations but a means of defiantly reorganizing the world, of asserting your right to literally see, hear, and perceive things differently. The need to hide yourself was thus transformed into the privilege of joining a private club with a private language. But to many younger gay men who grew up with gay public figures, fictional characters, and references, it’s a dead language—a calcified gallery of Judy Garland references and All About Eve bon mots that excludes them as much as it does the straight world.
So they react, as they react to many things, with a pose of bored indifference. Which is, of course, infuriating: There’s nothing duller than a young gay man who ornaments his ignorance with attitude and whose curiosity about the world doesn’t appear to extend past his iPod, certain that anything not already within his firsthand experience is by definition antiquated. But once we start blaming gay twentysomethings for not having gone through what we did, we turn into sour old reactionaries telling ourselves self-flattering lies about how misery builds character. Worse, we may in fact be doing damage. According to a 2005 report by the Institute for Gay and Lesbian Strategic Studies, our “emphasis on suffering reflects not the current reality of many LGBT adolescents so much as recollections of previous generations’ own ‘horror’ … LGBT adults’ residual fears and pain may be acting to magnify the real difficulties of LGBT teens.” Put simply, we talk too much, telling nightmare stories about AIDS and the Reagan administration when we should be listening—and then we get angry that they’re not listening to us.
“We’re just like our parents,” says a colleague of mine who came out right after college, in the mid-eighties. “We fought really hard so that our children would have things easier than we did, and now we resent them for it and sit around complaining that they lack character because they had everything too easy.”
That parent-child analogy also points to a larger cultural change, one that helped breed the hurt feelings that created the gay generation gap, which is that young gay men are, by and large, not our kids, even symbolically. The last twenty years—thanks to political progress, activism, education, the dying-off of a lot of homophobes, the Internet, and the mighty guiding arm of popular entertainment—have brought about a remarkable growth in straight America’s acceptance of homosexuality. Without forgetting that for too many gay kids, coming out is still hell, we’re also witnessing the rise of a parallel generation of gay kids with unflinchingly supportive parents, buddies who cheer their comings-out on Facebook, high schools with gay-straight alliances—in other words, kids who have grown up in a world that’s finally beginning, in a few places, to look like the one we wanted to create for them, or for ourselves.
And it would be dishonest to suggest that those kids—brash, at ease in their own skin, exuberant, happy—are being greeted by older gay men with nothing but uncomplicated joy. We can’t help but wonder how our lives might have been different if things had been easier for us, too. Some envy, some wistfulness, even some resentment is only human. And to add one further injury: Those kids don’t seem to need us anymore. For decades, gay men functioned as unofficial surrogate parents to the newly out and/or newly outcast. They’d offer reassurance that being gay didn’t mean being lonely. It was a bond that linked many generations of gay men across the age spectrum and created a real emotional connection, even if what necessitated it was pervasive prejudice. Today, though, the notion of quasi-parental gay mentorship feels ancient, a trope out of Tales of the City.
Unlike heterosexuals, most gay kids don’t grow up around adults who are like them, and gay adults in their forties, fifties, and sixties don’t have many occasions for routine, ordinary contact with a younger group of gay people. One of the benefits of Pride Week is that, however artificially, it breaks that barrier down and restarts the conversation. That’s appropriate for an occasion that’s meant to be steeped not just in optimism but in an awareness of history—a history that, by the way, includes a generation gap of its own. As author David Carter reminds us in his excellent 2004 book Stonewall, back in 1969, gay New York was deeply factionalized. Gay older men “passing” in coat-and-tie jobs on Madison and Park Avenues and then discreetly meeting each other in Turtle Bay bars had contempt for long-haired, sideburned Village hippies, and the reverse was also rudely, robustly the case. Even though gay Americans seem to have lived a century of tumult and progress since then, it’s good to know we still have something in common with our ancestral brothers-in-arms.
Comments:
I am a 29-year-old queer male and it is my belief that gay 20-somethings with no interest in the culture that gave birth to their own luxurious insularity are not so much a symbol of a generational gap as they are a reminder that LGBTQ History has been successfully marginalized in the education system -- despite the proliferation of Queer Studies as a tokenized academic discipline. LGBTQ Studies have been effectively relegated to a self-selecting minority of queer youth. From a pedagogical standpoint, the best course of action is to ensure the inclusion of the LGBTQ struggle for equality (and the slices of surrounding cultures that informed, inspired & supported those movements) within a broader framework of a living civil rights history. Trying to overturn Prop 8 is a noble and necessary stepping stone, but we won't bridge any gaps within or beyond our own movement until _all_ youth are educated that everyone is entitled to equal rights and treatment under the law (however far behind legislation is in making this a reality), and that all movements of oppressed groups are connected in that they all must struggle against bigoted policy. Our voices (angry or...gay) are important at a protest, yes, but perhaps not as paradigm-shifting as they are in history books.
By jorkane on 06/26/2009 at 2:14 pm
I'm 63. I came out during the Stonewall era. I feel enormously proud of what my gay brothers and sisters have accomplished over the last 40 years.
I feel proud every time I see how matter-of-factly kids say they don't think it's any big deal to be gay. It's only natural that they have a different point of view, and, in fact, we wanted them to feel the way they do.
But, if you're 25, it's unlikely you know how hard it was to get to this place. And, in a way, I'm glad you don't. But at the very least you should be aware that every gay man and woman who came out in the Stonewall era made social, financial, familial, and personal sacrifices to live openly and freely. And so did everybody else who came out after us.
If you're 25 and want to know what we were up against back then, take a trip to Saudi Arabia, or Nigeria, and live openly gay in those societies. Think I'm kidding?
When you're at the parade and see somebody my age, ask them what it was like. They'll appreciate being asked, and you might be surprised by what you hear. Don't assume we disdain who you are. We love who you are.
By ekeby on 06/25/2009 at 6:05 pm
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Maori Cultural Nationalism
by DannyR
Evan Te Ahu Poata-Smith’s He Pokeke Uenuku i Tu Ai: The evolution of contemporary Maori protest (1996) analyses the Maori cultural renaissance and political movement since the 1970s, highlighting the rise of Maori cultural nationalism and identifying its failures. The following outlines these failures and explores the validity of Poata-Smith’s analysis, concluding that while the focus on Maori identity has indeed brought about positive changes in New Zealand society, it is debatable whether these advances are in fact outweighed by the shortcomings of cultural nationalism.
Maori cultural nationalism has been primarily concerned with enabling Maori studies and language to be taught in schools, and with gaining recognition in public institutions and policies for the existence and concerns of Maori (Poata-Smith, 1996, p.106). Poata-Smith does not deny that the rediscovery and preservation of Maori culture is important, however he is highly critical of the shift within the Maori rights movement since the 1980s toward the emphasis on Maori identity and culture over political demonstration. Chief among Poata-Smith’s criticisms are that the rediscovery of Maori culture has superseded demonstrations for Maori rights and systemic change, that rhetoric around Maori identity obscures the sometimes significant differences in the actual experiences of Maori people, that the movement fails to challenge the capitalist system that creates the inequalities between Maori and Pakeha, and indeed between Maori of different socio-economic classes, and that the increasing autonomy of the Maori movement limits its effectiveness.
Cultural nationalism, Poata-Smith (1996, p.106-107, 113) argues, is a substitute for political activism and actual systemic change; its emphasis on changing individual lifestyles and developing individual Maori identity as the antidote to the ills inflicted by Pakeha society actually leads to people being less political. No Maori movement has been built on a foundation of cultural nationalism, Poata-Smith (1996, pp.113-114) notes, nevertheless the ideas and language of cultural nationalism have been adopted by Maori social movements and have inhibited activism and political involvement.
A second criticism of Maori cultural nationalism is that it treats Maori as a unified, homogenous group; from the poorest to the richest, Maori experience is assumed to be the same (Poata-Smith, 1996, p.112). There is no recognition that middle-class Maori have the same sort of privileges relative to working-class Maori that Pakeha middle-class people have relative to Pakeha working-class people. Cultural nationalism also fails to recognise that Maori are not and have never been one homogenous people; generational, gender and tribal differences have always existed, and these are often in conflict (McLennan et al., 2004, p.204; Melbourne, 1995, pp.155, 158; Poata-Smith, 1996, p.112). This assumption that there is one true Maori identity encourages Maori to fight over what constitutes ‘authentic’ Maori identity, failing to acknowledge that personal identities are embedded in historical contexts, that identities change over time, and that individuals often identify with multiple groups (Poata-Smith, 1996, p.112).
Similarly, cultural nationalists assume that Pakeha are one homogenous group and characterise them as the enemy of Maori, inherently and irredeemably greedy and exploitative, even those who would be allies (Poata-Smith, 1996, p.113). The emphasis on individual identity personalises the conflict, and thus Pakeha people and their presence in Aotearoa become the problem, rather than the capitalist system that perpetrates the inequalities between these groups (Poata-Smith, 1996, pp.111-112).
A further criticism levelled at cultural nationalism is that it has eliminated solidarity between Maori and other oppressed groups, its proponents have advocated the creation and maintenance of an autonomous Maori movement, based on the idea that Pakeha and other non-Maori cannot understand the oppression suffered by Maori people and should therefore be excluded. Poata-Smith (1996, p.107) notes that Donna Awatere and other Maori academics attacked and alienated other Left-wing social movements with accusations that these groups profited by and were in fact predicated on the exploitation of Maori, rather than gunning for the Right and the class system that created the inequalities in the first place. By excluding Pakeha, Poata-Smith (1996, p.114-115) argues, the Maori movement limits itself, depriving itself of Pakehas’ greater access to resources and channels of influence, and swinging from Left to Right policies and ideologies in an absence of any actual power to create change. Maori autonomy allows middle-class interests to hijack the movement and ensure that working-class concerns remain marginal, thus robbing the movement of its power to actually improve the lives of the very people who most need its advocacy (Poata-Smith, 1996, 115).
Poata-Smith (1996, pp.107-109) charges the Maori elite with complicity, in that they consistently fail to challenge the exploitative capitalist economic system that disadvantages Maori. This elite is made up of academics and corporate bosses, wealthy middle-class people employed by the Labour government of the mid-90s to simultaneously push for Maori interests and support the status quo; rewarded with opportunity, prestige and wealth, and thus effectively divorced from the realities of working-class life that the majority of Maori experience (McLennan et al., 2004, pp. 143, 208; Poata-Smith, 1996, pp.109-110). Poata-Smith notes that since the 1980’s the Maori movement has fought for precisely the political changes that benefit these already wealthy, middle-class Maori (Poata-Smith, 1996, p.112).
Poata-Smith’s analysis is correct on a number of points. In his assertion that Maori identity was unheard-of prior to European colonisation he is supported by Durie (1998, pp.53-55) and Sir Tipene O’Reagan (Melbourne, 1995, pp.155, 158), among others. He is also undoubtedly correct in asserting that the rediscovery of Maori heritage is valuable, but that it does not guarantee change in the present and future on its own, and therefore cannot be an end in itself. If action does not follow inspiration, all that will be accomplished is increased anger and resentment over past injustices, which will in turn make Maori people less inclined to engage with the problem in future.
Poata-Smith recognises that this rediscovery of Maori heritage is intended to enable a person to take action, but notes that this action is essentially individual, that is, increased Maori self-identification leads only to changes in one’s own lifestyle. The idea is that if more people are more ‘authentically’ Maori, they will make personal political choices consistent with that identity and in so doing influence the building of a society that is fair to Maori. This approach limits the spread of political discourse through society; individual choices in isolation make little differences in large populations, and clearly attempts at one-on-one persuasion will not be nearly as effective as an organised campaign to reach as many people as possible. Cultural nationalism, with its emphasis on individual identity and choice, fails to address larger, structural inequalities between Maori and Pakeha and ultimately renders Maori protest ineffective (Sissons, 1993).
Poata-Smith is also right to object to cultural nationalists’ insistence on the autonomy of the Maori movement, it is not necessary to experience first-hand the particular form of oppression, discrimination and exploitation faced by a minority to see how unjust it is and work to change it. Clearly there are plenty of Pakeha who sympathise with Maori (Melbourne, 1995, p.16), those that do not may be those who are unfamiliar with the issues facing Maori or those who are engaged in the promulgation of the dominant narrative, that Maori are receiving ‘special treatment,’ that they are lazy and so on; either way the Maori movement has failed to impress upon such people the extent of the difficulties faced by Maori people (Melbourne, 1995, p.160).
Of course there are other possible explanations for Pakeha indifference, certainly many Pakeha also feel disenfranchised and exploited and are perhaps too preoccupied with their own struggles. Spoonley (1995, pp.99, 110) notes that ‘Pakeha’ is itself an ambiguous and contested term and suggests that Pakeha are still in the process of making the awkward transition from seeing themselves as having been colonised and exploited by the British to seeing themselves as the colonisers, and thus they may not yet fully appreciate the Maori perspective.
It follows that Maori must seek alliances with other oppressed and marginalised groups across ethnic divisions, as they have many of the same concerns. Maori, particularly, are often materially disadvantaged and thus lacking in resources to challenge the prevailing system (McLennan et al., 2004, pp.208-209; Poata-Smith, 1996, pp.114-115). It can be argued that circumstances only really improve for minorities when they have allies who are not part of their group, as those ‘alien’ to the wider society need endorsement from others in the mainstream to be accepted. Certainly traditional Maori ways of life are alien to the Pakeha majority, Maori language and cultural expression having been all but banned from schools for the greater part of the twentieth century (McLennan et al., 2004, p.201).
There are points with which we might take issue in Poata-Smith’s analysis, however. A first objection is the unsupported assertion that cultural nationalists see the differences between Maori and Pakeha as biologically based (Poata-Smith, 1996, pp.111-112). He posits that racism is instead a product of capitalism, but does not make these links explicit. McLennan et al. (2004, pp.208-209) suggest that Maori disadvantage is due to New Zealand’s colonial history combined with the capitalist incorporation of Maori into the working-class. European colonisers thus came in, took over, deprived the native peoples and forced them into low-paid labouring jobs, and then interpreted their relative poverty as proof that Maori are racially inferior or just plain lazy.
Poata-Smith also questions the validity of a singular Maori identity, given that there are great disparities between tribes, genders, classes and the like, but others argue that this innovation is not necessarily a bad thing, as a great many Maori now live in cities and see their class as more important to their identity than their tribal affiliation. Some of these people do not have access to the traditional Maori world of marae and iwi, and so cultural nationalism allows them to retain a sense of connection with their ancestry in a way that they feel is relevant (Durie, 1998, pp.57-59). Sissons (1993) notes that Maori identity has such beneficial effects as improved self-esteem on the individual level and more harmonious relations at the group level. Others note that indigenous cultural revivals around the world are important precursors to community construction and mobilization (Najel, 1998, pp.252-253).
Lastly, it should be noted that subsequent to the publication of He Pokeke Uenuku i Tu Ai: The evolution of contemporary Maori protest, New Zealand has undergone significant changes to its political systems, going so far as to institute Maori seats in Parliament. Future research should examine the extent to which these changes exacerbate or compensate for the problems identified by Poata-Smith.
In conclusion, cultural nationalism has contributed in a number of positive ways to New Zealand society, and to Maori in particular, and can be seen as an important element in the movement for Maori equality. It is not, however, without significant problems, most importantly that it dissuades Maori from engaging in political activism, alienates the Maori movement from similar social movements that would otherwise be its allies, fails to recognise the sometimes substantial differences in the interests of those it claims to represent, and ultimately fails to challenge the system that creates the very inequalities in society that it purports to fight.
References
Durie, M. (1998). Mana Tupuna, identity and heritage. Te Mana, Te Kawanatanga: The politics of Maori self-determination. Auckland, New Zealand: Oxford University Press.
McLennan, G. Ryan, A. & Spoonley, P. (2004). Exploring Society: Sociology for New Zealand students, 2nd ed. New Zealand: Pearson Education.
Melbourne, H. (1995). Maori sovereignty: The Maori perspective. New Zealand: Hodder Moa Beckett.
Najel, J. (1998). Constructing ethnicity: Creating and recreating ethnic identity and culture. In M. W. Hughey (ed.) New tribalisms: The resurgence of race and ethnicity (pp.237-272). New York: New York University Press.
Poata-Smith, E. Te Ahu. (1996). He Pokeke Uenuku i Tu Ai: The evolution of contemporary Maori protest. In P. Spoonley, C. Macpherson and D. Pearson (eds.) Nga Patai:Racism and ethnic relations in Aotearoa/New Zealand (pp. 91-115). New Zealand: Dunmore Press.
Sissons, J. (1993). The systemisation of tradition: Maori culture as a strategic resource. Oceania, 64(2), 97-116.
Spoonley, P. (1995). Constructing ourselves: The postcolonial politics of Pakeha. In M. Wilson and A. Yeatman (eds.) Justice and identity: Antipodean practices (pp.96-115). New Zealand: Bridget Williams Books.
Evan Te Ahu Poata-Smith’s He Pokeke Uenuku i Tu Ai: The evolution of contemporary Maori protest (1996) analyses the Maori cultural renaissance and political movement since the 1970s, highlighting the rise of Maori cultural nationalism and identifying its failures. The following outlines these failures and explores the validity of Poata-Smith’s analysis, concluding that while the focus on Maori identity has indeed brought about positive changes in New Zealand society, it is debatable whether these advances are in fact outweighed by the shortcomings of cultural nationalism.
Maori cultural nationalism has been primarily concerned with enabling Maori studies and language to be taught in schools, and with gaining recognition in public institutions and policies for the existence and concerns of Maori (Poata-Smith, 1996, p.106). Poata-Smith does not deny that the rediscovery and preservation of Maori culture is important, however he is highly critical of the shift within the Maori rights movement since the 1980s toward the emphasis on Maori identity and culture over political demonstration. Chief among Poata-Smith’s criticisms are that the rediscovery of Maori culture has superseded demonstrations for Maori rights and systemic change, that rhetoric around Maori identity obscures the sometimes significant differences in the actual experiences of Maori people, that the movement fails to challenge the capitalist system that creates the inequalities between Maori and Pakeha, and indeed between Maori of different socio-economic classes, and that the increasing autonomy of the Maori movement limits its effectiveness.
Cultural nationalism, Poata-Smith (1996, p.106-107, 113) argues, is a substitute for political activism and actual systemic change; its emphasis on changing individual lifestyles and developing individual Maori identity as the antidote to the ills inflicted by Pakeha society actually leads to people being less political. No Maori movement has been built on a foundation of cultural nationalism, Poata-Smith (1996, pp.113-114) notes, nevertheless the ideas and language of cultural nationalism have been adopted by Maori social movements and have inhibited activism and political involvement.
A second criticism of Maori cultural nationalism is that it treats Maori as a unified, homogenous group; from the poorest to the richest, Maori experience is assumed to be the same (Poata-Smith, 1996, p.112). There is no recognition that middle-class Maori have the same sort of privileges relative to working-class Maori that Pakeha middle-class people have relative to Pakeha working-class people. Cultural nationalism also fails to recognise that Maori are not and have never been one homogenous people; generational, gender and tribal differences have always existed, and these are often in conflict (McLennan et al., 2004, p.204; Melbourne, 1995, pp.155, 158; Poata-Smith, 1996, p.112). This assumption that there is one true Maori identity encourages Maori to fight over what constitutes ‘authentic’ Maori identity, failing to acknowledge that personal identities are embedded in historical contexts, that identities change over time, and that individuals often identify with multiple groups (Poata-Smith, 1996, p.112).
Similarly, cultural nationalists assume that Pakeha are one homogenous group and characterise them as the enemy of Maori, inherently and irredeemably greedy and exploitative, even those who would be allies (Poata-Smith, 1996, p.113). The emphasis on individual identity personalises the conflict, and thus Pakeha people and their presence in Aotearoa become the problem, rather than the capitalist system that perpetrates the inequalities between these groups (Poata-Smith, 1996, pp.111-112).
A further criticism levelled at cultural nationalism is that it has eliminated solidarity between Maori and other oppressed groups, its proponents have advocated the creation and maintenance of an autonomous Maori movement, based on the idea that Pakeha and other non-Maori cannot understand the oppression suffered by Maori people and should therefore be excluded. Poata-Smith (1996, p.107) notes that Donna Awatere and other Maori academics attacked and alienated other Left-wing social movements with accusations that these groups profited by and were in fact predicated on the exploitation of Maori, rather than gunning for the Right and the class system that created the inequalities in the first place. By excluding Pakeha, Poata-Smith (1996, p.114-115) argues, the Maori movement limits itself, depriving itself of Pakehas’ greater access to resources and channels of influence, and swinging from Left to Right policies and ideologies in an absence of any actual power to create change. Maori autonomy allows middle-class interests to hijack the movement and ensure that working-class concerns remain marginal, thus robbing the movement of its power to actually improve the lives of the very people who most need its advocacy (Poata-Smith, 1996, 115).
Poata-Smith (1996, pp.107-109) charges the Maori elite with complicity, in that they consistently fail to challenge the exploitative capitalist economic system that disadvantages Maori. This elite is made up of academics and corporate bosses, wealthy middle-class people employed by the Labour government of the mid-90s to simultaneously push for Maori interests and support the status quo; rewarded with opportunity, prestige and wealth, and thus effectively divorced from the realities of working-class life that the majority of Maori experience (McLennan et al., 2004, pp. 143, 208; Poata-Smith, 1996, pp.109-110). Poata-Smith notes that since the 1980’s the Maori movement has fought for precisely the political changes that benefit these already wealthy, middle-class Maori (Poata-Smith, 1996, p.112).
Poata-Smith’s analysis is correct on a number of points. In his assertion that Maori identity was unheard-of prior to European colonisation he is supported by Durie (1998, pp.53-55) and Sir Tipene O’Reagan (Melbourne, 1995, pp.155, 158), among others. He is also undoubtedly correct in asserting that the rediscovery of Maori heritage is valuable, but that it does not guarantee change in the present and future on its own, and therefore cannot be an end in itself. If action does not follow inspiration, all that will be accomplished is increased anger and resentment over past injustices, which will in turn make Maori people less inclined to engage with the problem in future.
Poata-Smith recognises that this rediscovery of Maori heritage is intended to enable a person to take action, but notes that this action is essentially individual, that is, increased Maori self-identification leads only to changes in one’s own lifestyle. The idea is that if more people are more ‘authentically’ Maori, they will make personal political choices consistent with that identity and in so doing influence the building of a society that is fair to Maori. This approach limits the spread of political discourse through society; individual choices in isolation make little differences in large populations, and clearly attempts at one-on-one persuasion will not be nearly as effective as an organised campaign to reach as many people as possible. Cultural nationalism, with its emphasis on individual identity and choice, fails to address larger, structural inequalities between Maori and Pakeha and ultimately renders Maori protest ineffective (Sissons, 1993).
Poata-Smith is also right to object to cultural nationalists’ insistence on the autonomy of the Maori movement, it is not necessary to experience first-hand the particular form of oppression, discrimination and exploitation faced by a minority to see how unjust it is and work to change it. Clearly there are plenty of Pakeha who sympathise with Maori (Melbourne, 1995, p.16), those that do not may be those who are unfamiliar with the issues facing Maori or those who are engaged in the promulgation of the dominant narrative, that Maori are receiving ‘special treatment,’ that they are lazy and so on; either way the Maori movement has failed to impress upon such people the extent of the difficulties faced by Maori people (Melbourne, 1995, p.160).
Of course there are other possible explanations for Pakeha indifference, certainly many Pakeha also feel disenfranchised and exploited and are perhaps too preoccupied with their own struggles. Spoonley (1995, pp.99, 110) notes that ‘Pakeha’ is itself an ambiguous and contested term and suggests that Pakeha are still in the process of making the awkward transition from seeing themselves as having been colonised and exploited by the British to seeing themselves as the colonisers, and thus they may not yet fully appreciate the Maori perspective.
It follows that Maori must seek alliances with other oppressed and marginalised groups across ethnic divisions, as they have many of the same concerns. Maori, particularly, are often materially disadvantaged and thus lacking in resources to challenge the prevailing system (McLennan et al., 2004, pp.208-209; Poata-Smith, 1996, pp.114-115). It can be argued that circumstances only really improve for minorities when they have allies who are not part of their group, as those ‘alien’ to the wider society need endorsement from others in the mainstream to be accepted. Certainly traditional Maori ways of life are alien to the Pakeha majority, Maori language and cultural expression having been all but banned from schools for the greater part of the twentieth century (McLennan et al., 2004, p.201).
There are points with which we might take issue in Poata-Smith’s analysis, however. A first objection is the unsupported assertion that cultural nationalists see the differences between Maori and Pakeha as biologically based (Poata-Smith, 1996, pp.111-112). He posits that racism is instead a product of capitalism, but does not make these links explicit. McLennan et al. (2004, pp.208-209) suggest that Maori disadvantage is due to New Zealand’s colonial history combined with the capitalist incorporation of Maori into the working-class. European colonisers thus came in, took over, deprived the native peoples and forced them into low-paid labouring jobs, and then interpreted their relative poverty as proof that Maori are racially inferior or just plain lazy.
Poata-Smith also questions the validity of a singular Maori identity, given that there are great disparities between tribes, genders, classes and the like, but others argue that this innovation is not necessarily a bad thing, as a great many Maori now live in cities and see their class as more important to their identity than their tribal affiliation. Some of these people do not have access to the traditional Maori world of marae and iwi, and so cultural nationalism allows them to retain a sense of connection with their ancestry in a way that they feel is relevant (Durie, 1998, pp.57-59). Sissons (1993) notes that Maori identity has such beneficial effects as improved self-esteem on the individual level and more harmonious relations at the group level. Others note that indigenous cultural revivals around the world are important precursors to community construction and mobilization (Najel, 1998, pp.252-253).
Lastly, it should be noted that subsequent to the publication of He Pokeke Uenuku i Tu Ai: The evolution of contemporary Maori protest, New Zealand has undergone significant changes to its political systems, going so far as to institute Maori seats in Parliament. Future research should examine the extent to which these changes exacerbate or compensate for the problems identified by Poata-Smith.
In conclusion, cultural nationalism has contributed in a number of positive ways to New Zealand society, and to Maori in particular, and can be seen as an important element in the movement for Maori equality. It is not, however, without significant problems, most importantly that it dissuades Maori from engaging in political activism, alienates the Maori movement from similar social movements that would otherwise be its allies, fails to recognise the sometimes substantial differences in the interests of those it claims to represent, and ultimately fails to challenge the system that creates the very inequalities in society that it purports to fight.
References
Durie, M. (1998). Mana Tupuna, identity and heritage. Te Mana, Te Kawanatanga: The politics of Maori self-determination. Auckland, New Zealand: Oxford University Press.
McLennan, G. Ryan, A. & Spoonley, P. (2004). Exploring Society: Sociology for New Zealand students, 2nd ed. New Zealand: Pearson Education.
Melbourne, H. (1995). Maori sovereignty: The Maori perspective. New Zealand: Hodder Moa Beckett.
Najel, J. (1998). Constructing ethnicity: Creating and recreating ethnic identity and culture. In M. W. Hughey (ed.) New tribalisms: The resurgence of race and ethnicity (pp.237-272). New York: New York University Press.
Poata-Smith, E. Te Ahu. (1996). He Pokeke Uenuku i Tu Ai: The evolution of contemporary Maori protest. In P. Spoonley, C. Macpherson and D. Pearson (eds.) Nga Patai:Racism and ethnic relations in Aotearoa/New Zealand (pp. 91-115). New Zealand: Dunmore Press.
Sissons, J. (1993). The systemisation of tradition: Maori culture as a strategic resource. Oceania, 64(2), 97-116.
Spoonley, P. (1995). Constructing ourselves: The postcolonial politics of Pakeha. In M. Wilson and A. Yeatman (eds.) Justice and identity: Antipodean practices (pp.96-115). New Zealand: Bridget Williams Books.
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