Reflections on the day of remembrance for Dr. Martin Luther King, 2008

We often find ourselves looking back, into history, for tried solutions to modern problems and an experienced guide towards the future. We wrap ourselves in the words of the heroes on headstones, weaving their bold triumphs into the fabric and strength of our identities. And yet these exercises in continuity are rarely pure; quotations given new meanings by new orators, symbols of peace re-appropriated onto flags of war, and ancient history twisted to justify modern inhumanity. The leaders of our world are professionals in this dance of national identity and pride. They gather up their symbols and their heroes and say "This is what it means to be Kenyan" and "This is what it means to be American". These leaders are our leaders, and so we, the people, are just as guilty as they, our eyes and souls willing partners in this dance of manipulation.

What does it mean, then, to have a national holiday for a man who was an opponent of the national government? And what does it mean to celebrate a man whose vision, now forty years old, is barely closer to fruition than it was on the day he was assassinated? These questions, I believe, point to the great strengths and to the great weaknesses of our society. We must take pride in those strengths, but at the same time acknowledge our weaknesses -- not as unnecessary grime due to the "others" in our society, but as a real part of our identity.

Dr. King was fought and feared, not just by stereotypical racist segregationists, but by the 'liberal' establishment as well. Robert Kennedy himself signed the order to begin FBI wiretapping of King. King's Riverside Church speech against the war in Vietnam earned him the ire of the 'liberal media' Washington Post, Time Magazine, and New York Times. Lyndon Johnson once referred to him as a "hypocrite preacher". Dr. King advocated for democratic socialism and serious social and economic reform. It took fifteen years to pass a bill in Congress creating a national holiday, and it was only in 1999 that the last state (way to go, New Hampshire) joined recognition of the holiday. Senator Jesse Helms, the strongest opponent of the holiday, publicly called Dr. King a Communist and a sexual predator and still went on to win three more terms (thank you, North Carolina). And here lies one great social strength: our ability to function despite polarizing differences, allowing all sides to speak their mind and receive recognition. We did not choose to forget such a polarizing figure; we simply debated, peacefully, until one side got its way. Having a holiday for Dr. King is only one example. Here free speech is not a right begrudged by a wary elite, but instead a celebrated pillar of our national identity. We are able to subsume our hatred for the Other's opinion, religion, or values, under this blanket of freedom. Diversity does not threaten our national identity, rather it fortifies our belief that we are special for being able to accept these differences. This is no small achievement. One need not look far in the foreign headlines to find countries torn to shreds by diversity.

And yet despite the stability of our progress over the last few decades, we have done little to erase the social and economic problems that racked the days of Dr. King. Despite the efforts of thousands of well-intentioned bureaucrats and activists, we still live in a country where class mobility is shrinking, the income gap is growing, health care and higher education are inaccessible to the poor, and great gleaming walls of prejudice still stand between racial and ethnic minorities and their dreams. Poor people, seduced by the military with rarely-heard promises of a better life, are still dying in unnecessary wars -- fighting for a country in which, no matter how many 'gooks' or 'towelheads' they killed, they will still be judged based on the color of their skin and the content of their wallet.

So this is America: Freedom and Inequality for all. A land where you are free to speak your mind, just so long as you understand that your opinions are worth less than they would be if you were wearing a more expensive suit and a lighter tone of skin. A land where theft and exploitation are accepted, as long as you do it with a pen instead of with a gun. This is America. So where do Dr. King and his legacy fit in? We must struggle to not let our history define us; we must instead seek to define its place in our struggle for self- and national improvement. Dr. King fought for social equality, but he would not want to see a nation of people yoked to the beam balance. Improvement isn't about getting rid of the "bad" elements, because that divide is never clear. The "good" and the "bad" are part and parcel. It is because of our insistence on freedom that inequality persists. And it is because of how secure the elite feel that they allow such freedom among the masses. We should not rid ourselves of the racists or the corporate raiders, because all of us are prejudiced and all of us would exploit the "other" if it sufficiently benefited ourselves and our families. We, personally and nationally, are all responsible for everything "good" or "bad" that goes on in our society.

Where, then, do we go from here? Do we accept the status quo, the permanence and necessity of the Yin and the Yang, and go about our business? Or is there a path to action without anger, to change without destruction? In lieu of any futile answers, I will quote the eloquence of Dr. King:

"We are now faced with the fact that tomorrow is today. We are confronted with the fierce urgency of now. In this unfolding conundrum of life and history there is such a thing as being too late. Procrastination is still the thief of time. Life often leaves us standing bare, naked and dejected with a lost opportunity. The "tide in the affairs of men" does not remain at the flood; it ebbs. We may cry out desperately for time to pause in her passage, but time is deaf to every plea and rushes on. Over the bleached bones and jumbled residue of numerous civilizations are written the pathetic words: "Too late." There is an invisible book of life that faithfully records our vigilance or our neglect. "The moving finger writes, and having writ moves on..." We still have a choice today; nonviolent coexistence or violent co-annihilation.

We must move past indecision to action. We must find new ways to speak for peace in Vietnam and justice throughout the developing world -- a world that borders on our doors. If we do not act we shall surely be dragged down the long dark and shameful corridors of time reserved for those who possess power without compassion, might without morality, and strength without sight.

Now let us begin. Now let us rededicate ourselves to the long and bitter -- but beautiful -- struggle for a new world. This is the calling of the sons of God, and our brothers wait eagerly for our response. Shall we say the odds are too great? Shall we tell them the struggle is too hard? Will our message be that the forces of American life militate against their arrival as full men, and we send our deepest regrets? Or will there be another message, of longing, of hope, of solidarity with their yearnings, of commitment to their cause, whatever the cost? The choice is ours, and though we might prefer it otherwise we must choose in this crucial moment of human history."

(Another blog's take on MLK Day here.)

Hotspot: Kenya

Kenya is seen by many as a stable democratic stronghold in an otherwise chaotic and despotic area of Africa. Neighbored by Somalia, Ethiopia, and Sudan, its political and economic progress over the past years has been remarkable. It was the country that housed refugees, not created them. It was a country that rose from the ashes of harsh British rule and decades of dictatorship to become the favored nation of the West; its aid dollars and its tourism. However this status is at serious risk as a result of violence sweeping the country following the December 27 presidential and parliamentary elections.

Over 300 people have been killed so far in post-election violence. Much of this violence seems to have an ethnic basis, pitting the politically advantaged Kikuyu tribe against the Luo and other minorities. Violent attacks, looting, militia roadblocks, and police clashes with protesters have swept through the country. In one particularly horrific incident, 89 people were burned alive in a church in Eldoret. According to the UN, there are now over 180,000 IDPs (Internally Displaced Persons) in Kenya, and thousands more have fled to neighboring Uganda.

What are the causes of this sudden and terrible transformation? Let us take a look at Kenyan history, both past and present.

The area now called Kenya has a human history dating back millions of years, to the days of homo habilis and homo erectus. It has since played host to a variety of homo sapiens ethnic groups, including the Cushitic, Nilotic, Bantu, and Arab peoples. The Swahili language developed as a result of this linguistic amalgam; a need for a common language among merchants and prospective husbands. At various points the region suffered from colonization attempts by the Portugese, Germans, and British. It was the British who finally surrendered to local rule in 1963, whereupon Jomo Kenyatta became the new nation's first president. The years preceding independence had seen great bloodshed with the British exerting full military pressure to crush the Mau Mau rebellion from 1952-1960. Out of this chaos came the strongman Kenyatta and his Kenyan African National Union party. One party rule lasted from 1963 until 2002, through the reigns of Kenyatta and Daniel Arap Moi (1978-2002). In 2002 Arap Moi was defeated by current president Mwai Kibaki, a former economist, and his National Rainbow Coalition. 2002 marked the first time in nearly forty years that power had changed hands in Kenya. Despite the lack of political freedom, the Kenyan economy had flourished, becoming a huge tourist destination and recipient of Western aid. The second economy, made up of unofficial and undocumented employment, grew as well, providing jobs for the masses in Kenya's teeming urban centers. Corruption remains entrenched -- but in this part of Africa, if corruption is your biggest problem, then you are quite lucky.

Which brings us to the December 27 election. Raila Odinga, leader of the opposition Orange Democratic Movement, was challenging Kibaki for the presidency. Raila seemed to have momentum going into the election, and the initial vote counts were going his way. But then the counts shifted, and on December 30 Kibaki was declared the winner. Within an hour he had himself sworn in for a second term. EU election monitors began murmuring about fraudulent vote counts and, as word got out, protests by Raila's supporters began. Raila declared himself the winner of the election and demanded a recount. Within days the international community was convinced that the vote counts were false, and Kibaki's own people began deserting him. His election commission chief said that he was not sure if Kibaki had won. His attorney general called for an independent investigation. Meanwhile violence sweeps the country, and neither Kibaki nor Raila makes a move to bring about reconciliation. The BBC has an excellent break-down of recent political events here.

What seems to be appearing here is a choice between democracy and stability. Kibaki obviously has a strong desire to stay in power, and he is probably still the candidate favored by the U.S. and Britain. It seems that Kibaki's strategy is to clamp down on major protests, and wait until people decide that they would rather have stability than democracy. Raila benefits from continued unrest, as it brings the attention of international observers who lend substance to his claim of election fraud and puts pressure on Kibaki's government. Herein lies the problem: Both leaders think they will benefit by waiting. Meanwhile the Kenyan people are being chased from their homes, killed in the street, starved by lack of supplies or employment, and ethnic rivalries are bursting with rage through the seams of a once-peaceful nation.