WP_Post Object
(
    [ID] => 1113
    [post_author] => 2
    [post_date] => 2019-06-14 15:48:34
    [post_date_gmt] => 2019-06-14 15:48:34
    [post_content] => The combination of jokes and storytelling has become a potent weapon in the culture wars

With “Nanette,” her critically acclaimed 2018 Netflix special, Australian comedian Hannah Gadsby inspired an international conversation about the purpose of comedy. During her hour-long monologue, filmed in front of a rapt audience at the Sydney Opera House, Gadsby challenges the idea that comedy is an effective means of dealing with controversial issues. In theory, she explains, comedy creates a connection through laughter; but in practice, it undermines serious discussions and perpetuates toxic norms.

Gadsby grew up lesbian and gender non-conforming in ultra-conservative Tasmania, where homosexuality was legalized only in 1997. Humor was her defence mechanism against fear and shame, but it also kept her from thriving. She has come to realize, she explains in “Nanette,” that the price of self-deprecating humor is her dignity. “I put myself down in order to seek permission to speak,” she says.

Storytelling succeeds where jokes fail, says Gadsby. They can provide answers by integrating marginalized voices in a three-dimensional way that is not just a setup and a punchline, but an arc with a beginning, a middle, and an end.  “What I would have done,” she said, “to have heard a story like mine, to feel less alone, to feel connected.” She adds: “This is bigger than homosexuality; this is about how we conduct debate in public about sensitive things.”

Comedy and storytelling

Several comedians and writers have embraced the challenge of creating films and television series that combine jokes and storytelling to catalyze and reflect new norms. “Booksmart,” a hilarious and charming new film directed by Olivia Wilde, brings marginalized voices into the mainstream and normalizes them. The film replaces the conventional teen rom-com device of shy boy and awkward girl with two socially awkward teenage girls, best friends, one of whom is straight and the other a lesbian. The girls don't bother to correct the impression of their performatively liberal parents, who believe the girls are romantically involved. On the eve of their high school graduation, they decide to misbehave radically for the first time in their bookish lives, which leads to a series of hilarious misadventures. The girls are precocious and they live in Los Angeles, but they are highly relatable and possess an age-appropriate innocence that transcends their coastal elite status. “Crazy Ex-Girlfriend,” an ingenious comedy that has as its protagonist a woman who is obsessed with a man she dated as a teenager, explores mental health seriously and unflinchingly rather than playing it for laughs. It works because the plots are hilarious and the characters compelling. The show manages to combine brilliantly written comedy and story development with a serious agenda — and on mainstream cable television. Premium cable channels have also been taking some chances with programs about the lives of social groups that were all-but unknown on mainstream television just a few years ago. HBO’s “Insecure,” for example, presents the lives of 20-something middle class African-American women. Star Issa Rae mines her own life in the series, set in Los Angeles. She works for a non-profit while Molly, her best friend since they were undergraduates at Stanford, is a corporate attorney. The series follows Issa’s foundering relationship with a live-in boyfriend, Molly’s awkward dating life, their career hurdles, and all the other universal agonies of fumbling toward adulthood — but presented through a lens that focuses on the unique aspects of the African-American experience in a white-majority society. If the series were about white women, “Insecure” would be a cliché. But because it’s about black women whose life experiences are as recognizable as that of Abbi Jacobson and Ilana Glazer of “Broad City,” it is revolutionary. “Crashing,” by and with Pete Holmes, and also on HBO, takes on comedy. Holmes’s character, based on a version of himself, is a white, Christian comedian pursuing his career in New York City’s less-than-earnest comedy scene. In this context, Holmes is the marginal one. Viewers gain a visceral understanding that there is no such thing as “normal,” and that diversity is what makes us human. As he struggles to make it, Holmes finds himself crashing on the couches of comedians who have achieved a degree of fame and financial success; this is a plot device that brings cameo appearances by pretty much everyone in the business — a true comedy nerd’s delight. “Crashing,” has taken on serious issues, such as addiction — with an amazing performance by veteran comic Artie Lange, who has struggled with addiction for decades. The series includes episodes with angry male comics who refuse to adapt to evolving social mores, as well as new female and non-white voices. “Crashing” was not renewed for a fourth season, which is a real loss for the broader conversation about comedy, especially about its changing landscape. The show upends the notion that sensitivity to new voices and old tropes will spell an end to “funny.” Instead it challenges the older guard to be more creative and opens the conversation to those that have been marginalized, which is a lot of very funny people. But scripted comedy and the traditional comedy set do pose limitations that underscore Hannah Gadsby’s central points. The characters are ultimately fictional, even if they are relatable and represent more diversity. They reflect real concerns, but they they don’t live beyond the page on which they are written.

Unscripted and stand-up comedy

One of the reasons the stand-up comic seems to offer truth, is that she stands there as herself, connecting with her audience through a combination of vulnerability and sharp insights. Comics tend to be quite open about their personal struggles and often draw on them for material. But the stand-up set is usually a well-honed combination of jokes and short stories. With “Nanette,” Hannah Gadsby shows that comedians now have a much broader range of options in which they can present their work. Comedy seems to have found its value as storytelling. “Nanette” is one example of this form, but podcasts seem to be the perfect storytelling platform.

Comedy and the podcast

Podcasting has helped the golden age of comedy to flourish. It also offers perhaps the most intimate ways of experiencing entertainment, as a one-on-one experience between the listener and the podcaster. In the case of podcasts hosted by people who allow the listener into their personal lives, a long-lasting bond is created. “My Favorite Murder,” a true-crime podcast hosted by Karen Kilgariff, a veteran comic and writer, and Georgia Hardstark, a Cooking Channel personality and food writer, embodies the way in which comedy can be a valuable storyteller, a medium for serious conversations, and a means to connect. They achieved this unintentionally, as a result of tapping into the zeitgeist. The format is simple: in each episode, the hosts take turns telling the story of their “favorite murder” – stories that have fascinated them and fed their obsession with true crime, ranging from Jon Benet Ramsey to the Golden State Killer. The retellings are not especially well-researched, with Hardstark and Kilgariff openly relying on Wikipedia, or episodes of true crime shows. The hosts also often mispronounce places and names, and sometimes have a tenuous grasp of history or basic geography. It is their very frank awareness of their ignorance, and their openness to being challenged, that taps into the vulnerability and empathy through which they connect — both to one another, and to their audience. Kilgariff and Hardstark have also arrived at their podcast with baggage they are willing to unpack. The two discuss their past substance abuse, eating disorders, failure to thrive in conventional settings (neither has a college degree), dysfunctional relationships, watching a parent succumb to Alzheimers, and ultimately, the way both have achieved growth through years of therapy. And it is clear they are sharing themselves in a way that they think will be valuable to others. Since its launch in 2016, the podcast has soared in the charts, sold out live shows nationally and internationally, and has a cult following of fellow “Murderinos.” Their fans are mostly women, who make up the vast majority of true crime fans. There are as many true crime podcasts as there are comedy podcasts, but with this combination, their talent and chemistry, and ability to connect through their own stories, the duo have captured a perfect medium for an audience that seemed urgently hungry for it. Their new memoir, “Stay Sexy & Don’t Get Murdered,” is an even more candid extension of the themes they have spoken about on the show. And they have bared themselves even more-so, to everyone’s benefit. The podcast has received thousands of emails over the years with fans expressing deeply personal reasons for feeling connected to and by the show. Between full episodes, MFM releases mini-episodes, with the hosts reading out a select few “Hometown Murders” sent in by listeners (really any true crime story that the listener has some kind of personal connection to). Almost invariably, the listener explains at the end of the show why it touched her, and expresses gratitude. One listener, who is a sex worker, told the hosts that they are “angels for trying to contribute to the [conversation around] the frequent mockery and stereotyping of violence against sex workers;” another wrote, after telling a story about her dad’s role in helping end a hostage situation, that “I am so grateful for the way you ladies talk and are so open about mental illnesses, it was (my dad’s) own bipolar disorder that led to the end of his life and I’ve always felt a stigma around his disease and death like it was an anomaly and isolate thing when really it’s everywhere and I appreciate your willingness to start an honest conversation;” and one woman wrote in to tell a story and thank them for, “helping this junior lawyer with long hours and unbelievable professional self-doubt.” In the interest of total disclosure, I once wrote them myself with a hometown story and thanked them for sharing themselves in the way they do. They were my loyal and constant companions who kept me feeling connected to the world when I was laid off from my job. Comedy has certainly grown to include more storytelling, and deeper excavations than throwaway punchlines. It helps that comedians often come equipped with a wide array of dysfunctions they are happy to discuss. Hannah Gadsby was right to question the value of comedy if it was used only as a means of defusing tension. But the medium seems to be expanding. It is becoming an avenue for serious conversations, and for a wider variety of us to connect.  Hannah Gadsby is returning this summer with a new special, “Douglas, we may well get a new verdict from her as well. It will be on Netflix in 2020. [post_title] => Comedy's role as a catalyst for social change [post_excerpt] => The combination of jokes and storytelling has become a potent weapon in the culture wars [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => open [ping_status] => open [post_password] => [post_name] => the-new-comedy-has-become-a-catalyst-for-social-change [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2024-08-28 21:14:03 [post_modified_gmt] => 2024-08-28 21:14:03 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://conversationalist.org/?p=1113 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw )

Comedy’s role as a catalyst for social change

WP_Post Object
(
    [ID] => 1108
    [post_author] => 2
    [post_date] => 2019-06-13 15:06:55
    [post_date_gmt] => 2019-06-13 15:06:55
    [post_content] => Social media platforms and authoritarian populists have a troubled, tangled, symbiotic relationship

Evgeny Morozov, a prominent culture critic and social media expert, argues in a recent opinion piece for The Guardian that the global right-wing populist movement is divided over Big Tech companies. Globally, populists see the platforms as a way to subvert mainstream media, but in the United States the right wing sees it as a target to attack.  Morozov's analysis overlooks, however, the fact that American extremists have been having it both ways: they capitalize off the opportunity to radicalize individuals on social media, while cynically complaining about “far-left” ideologues, as demonstrated by recent events.

Last week, YouTube initially declined to sanction the right-wing comedian Stephen Crowder for posting videos filled with racist and homophobic attacks against a Vox journalist. As HuffPo reporter Andy Campbell observes, this is a really bad sign for the company’s new anti-hate policy.

Then the company proceeded to prove, as Will Oremus describes it, “The One Rule of Content Moderation”: Namely, if a decision is too controversial, reverse it. YouTube’s decision to take away Crowder’s ability to make money off his videos is neither a “hard-won victory” nor “mob rule,” but merely more evidence that the tech companies have no idea what they’re doing.

As this story by New York Times reporter Kevin Roose demonstrates, the recommendation engines that power platforms like YouTube are as influential as content moderation — if less visible. Roose reports that a series of tweaks to the recommendation system on YouTube made it even easier for white supremacists and other right-wing populists to radicalize their audiences.

However, Roose also reports that some left-wing YouTubers are hacking the system by mimicking the video style, lingo, and subject matter of right-wing populists, and then debunking their messages. These activists are modeling their tactics on successful de-radicalization by co-opting the medium, meme by meme. While this community-driven strategy is promising, its creators are ultimately at the mercy of the same algorithms as their far-right colleagues: if YouTube switches things up again, who knows whether they can still get their videos in front of the people who need them.

In other news:

States race to ban styrofoam in the latest skirmish of the much-needed war on plastic. Read more. How an “innovation team” is ending blight in Mobile, Alabama. Learn more. The small Hawaiian island of Moloka‘i is modeling a post-carbon future for us all. Here’s how. [post_title] => How the far right games social media platforms [post_excerpt] => [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => open [ping_status] => open [post_password] => [post_name] => how-the-far-right-games-social-media-platforms [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2024-08-28 21:15:14 [post_modified_gmt] => 2024-08-28 21:15:14 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://conversationalist.org/?p=1108 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw )

How the far right games social media platforms

WP_Post Object
(
    [ID] => 826
    [post_author] => 5
    [post_date] => 2019-04-11 18:53:26
    [post_date_gmt] => 2019-04-11 18:53:26
    [post_content] => While the #metoo movement has led to a reconsideration of how masculinity functions in our society, it’s also important to be aware of when the movement acts to constrain conversations about modern feminism, and how to correct this problem.

Men convicted of gender-based crimes in El Salvador are required to enter a program on masculinity. The program seeks to correct the learned behaviors associated with a culture of toxic masculinity and has produced some promising results. Read more.

At Brown University, a program called called Masculinity 101 hosts discussion groups on what masculinity means, relationship dynamics, empathy with others, and male privilege. Other programs at colleges and universities have tried similar or related initiatives with mixed success. Learn more.

Students in a solutions journalism course at the University of Oregon reported on #MeToo initiatives on and off their campuses, asking tough questions about what works and why, and what doesn’t. It’s thoughtful work on an important subject. Read their stories here.

Journalist Sady Doyle tweeted an interesting thread this week, in which she posits that issues once classified as purely “feminist” are now labeled "#MeToo" issues. Doyle's argument mirrors the thesis that David Klion advances in an article for ANI, in which he points out that #MeToo makes both men and women of the ruling class nervous because it is essentially a labor movement, with women demanding the same salaries and opportunities currently available to their male peers. Click on the tweet embedded below to read the entire thread. 

https://twitter.com/sadydoyle/status/1114289946439897093

And then there’s this: what will history will say about the fact that the first, loudest, and best-funded films about the #MeToo moment all made by men? Read about that here.
    [post_title] => Stage two of #metoo: the pros, the cons & the consequences
    [post_excerpt] => 				Taking a look at how the movement has affected the expression of masculinity and where it will go from here.		
    [post_status] => publish
    [comment_status] => open
    [ping_status] => open
    [post_password] => 
    [post_name] => stage-two-of-metoo-the-pros-the-cons-the-consequences
    [to_ping] => 
    [pinged] => 
https://conversationalist.org/2019/02/14/why-metoo-makes-the-ruling-class-nervous/
    [post_modified] => 2024-08-28 21:14:03
    [post_modified_gmt] => 2024-08-28 21:14:03
    [post_content_filtered] => 
    [post_parent] => 0
    [guid] => https://conversationalist.org/?p=826
    [menu_order] => 0
    [post_type] => post
    [post_mime_type] => 
    [comment_count] => 0
    [filter] => raw
)

Stage two of #metoo: the pros, the cons & the consequences

WP_Post Object
(
    [ID] => 730
    [post_author] => 2
    [post_date] => 2019-03-15 16:32:04
    [post_date_gmt] => 2019-03-15 16:32:04
    [post_content] => Thousands of Pakistani women took to the streets of cities across the country to demand gender equality. 

On March 8 thousands of women took to the streets of Pakistan's cities to join the Aurat March, or Women’s March, and demand their rights. The atmosphere was exuberant and hopeful, and the march felt as though it were an announcement: a new generation of homegrown feminists had come of age. In their battle for gender equality, however, Pakistani women face some heavy and unique socio-political challenges. 

The demands voiced by the women who assembled in urban areas across Pakistan might sound anachronistic or quaint to Western feminists. In addition to calling for an end to violence toward women, they chanted and carried signs for a living wage for female workers, for increased political participation — and the right to move freely in public spaces. 

In Pakistan, the march’s detractors claimed that it was copied from the Women’s March that took place in the United States in January 2017. Given the very tangible risks Pakistani feminists face, this dismissive attitude is at best ignorant. The women who marched in the United States did not fear physical violence or social condemnation. And the women who marched in Pakistan were inspired not by foreign activists, but by homegrown feminist icons.

The Aurat March is only the latest iteration of a complex feminist movement Pakistan, which was recently declared the sixth most dangerous country in the world for women.

The power of the patriarchy

Pakistani feminists seek to raise awareness among their female peers about their basic rights. Women have the right, for example, to safety and security; to freedom from gender-based discrimination and from sexual harassment. They have the right to equal career opportunities, to schooling and healthcare. Women in Pakistan are struggling against decades, if not centuries, of strict gender roles defined by one of the harshest patriarchies in the world. That patriarchy implements strict control over all areas of girls’ and women’s lives. It enacts violence on women’s bodies, using a strict interpretation of Islam as justification for this misogyny. Pakistan’s legal system perpetuates this. While pro-women laws have been passed by the government,  the police do not enforce them and the legal system rarely prosecutes them. Pakistani feminists also face accusations that feminism is a movement of the privileged, or the Western-educated; that by fighting for women’s rights they are undermining Islam, which they claim already gives women their rights in the context of religious law. In conservative Pakistan, all revolutionaries are accused of immorality and obscenity, and of causing social upheaval and corruption. But the backlash against the feminist movement is even more vindictive than usual. It is colored by misogynist abuse and condescending dismissal that comes from even the most educated men and women — because they are heavily invested in the patriarchal structure of the country, which is the source of their privilege.

Accusations of foreign influence

Some of the suspicions toward the Pakistani feminist movement comes from the fact that Western feminists have, particularly since 9/11, attempted to impose their particular expression of feminism in non-Western parts of the world, such as Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, and Pakistan, often in conjunction with foreign military interventions. Now, with the rise of global and intersectional feminism, “white feminism” is under strong criticism for its inability to place the voices of those non-Western women above its own agenda. But this criticism ignores the fact that there is a genuine home-grown feminism in all these non-western countries. It is led by local women who express their own needs and desires, form their own agendas, and fight their own battles.   Pakistani feminists have refuted accusations that feminism is a Western-imposed movement, or that it is secular (i.e., un-Islamic), by placing the struggle in the context of Pakistan’s social and political issues, and by addressing the immediate needs and concerns of Pakistani women. Feminists in Pakistan have coined the Urdu word behenchara, or sisterhood, to enact a feminist takeover of the word bhaichara, or fraternity.  They have also placed an inclusive, intersectional ethos at the center of the movement to bring together Pakistan’s diverse groups under the banner of yakhjeti, or unity.

Raising a grassroots movement

On March 8 Pakistani women gathered in Lahore, Karachi and Islamabad, just as they did in 2018. Following weeks of project-building, intense campaigning, door-to-door awareness-raising, and clear and urgent communication of their goals, they marched through public spaces. They made sure to express their message in a host of local languages, in order to make it accessible to as broad as possible a swathe of Pakistani society. They framed the struggle for women’s liberation as one that is inherently linked with the liberation of all oppressed groups and minorities. Last year, 5,000 women from all sections of society marched. They attracted attention from the media, both local and international, and starting a dynamic conversation on social media, in classrooms, and on television, about what feminism is and why it is necessary in Pakistan. This year the turnout was even bigger, as women across ethnic groups and religious sects, socioeconomic groups and gender identities, turned out to hear inspirational speeches from women leaders and representatives, to sing and dance and to take over the streets. In Pakistan, both dancing and taking control of public space are considered immoral behavior for women.

Pakistani feminists don’t need white saviors

The march was not limited to the educated, urban elite. The women of Sindhiani Tehreek, the rural Sindhi Women’s Movement, came to Karachi from Hyderabad and the village Jungshahi on the coast of Sindh. Women from the Hindu and Christian minority communities attended in Lahore and Karachi. Female health workers and midwives, who provide medical care in the most intimate of women’s spaces and have been identified as a major part of the grassroots feminist movement in Pakistan, took center stage at the march. Women marched in Peshawar, Quetta, Faislabad, Hyderabad, and Chitral too, bringing the numbers to nearly 8,000 across the country.  Pakistani feminists have never waited for Western feminists to instruct them in how to fight for their rights. Today a younger generation of feminists is building on the work of female activists who struggled against dictatorship in the 1970s. The Women’s Action Forum was at the forefront of that struggle against Islamist General Mohammed Zia ul Haq, who controlled Pakistan for a decade beginning in 1978. During that time of dictatorship and martial law, the regime stole many of the rights for which women had long struggled; trying to confine them behind the veil and in the home. The brave young women of WAF endured political oppression, social condemnation, and physical violence. In one infamous incident, during their protest on the Lahore Mall against the 1979 Hudood Ordinances — newly introduced laws that criminalized adultery and non-marital sex — police beat them and tried to disperse them with tear gas. The Pakistani feminists of 2019 are inspired by those women, who are now feminist icons, and their groundbreaking activism. Metaphorically taking the torch passed on from the previous generation, contemporary feminists formed a new collective last year; it is called Hum Aurtain (We Women —  the title comes from Pakistani poet Kishwar Naheed’s famous poem “We Sinful Women), and it was instrumental in organizing Karachi's Aurat March in 2018.

A second generation of homegrown feminists

Aurat March organizers made it clear that the march was not foreign-funded, nor funded by NGOs or corporations, and that there were no alliances with any political party. The Pakistani feminist movement is homegrown, inclusive, and intersectional.  They urged men to become allies and join the movement; standing against patriarchal structures, they said, was open to all. But the Aurat March of 2018 and 2019 did not happen overnight. Feminist groups and collectives like Girls at Dhabas, Aurat Raj, Women on Wheels, Girls on Bikes, and the Lyari Girls Café have been chipping away at those societal strictures for several years now. Thanks to their work, people are starting to challenge restrictive attitudes toward women. The work of Pakistani feminists will continue even after the high of the Aurat March 2019 fades away. Pakistani women are exploring female-led initiatives in technology and finance, women’s leadership in sports, academics, media, and the military. They have formed organizations that seek to put women on company boards, on panels, position them as experts in every field. Women in the rural areas area agitating for a living wage, for their work to be recognized as formal labor. Most excitingly, all of these components form a feminist discourse that is gaining momentum among young people, women, men, trans, straight, queer. Feminism is rapidly becoming part of the everyday conversation shaping a more progressive Pakistan. [post_title] => Pakistan’s feminist revolution: the second generation [post_excerpt] => Pakistani feminists have never waited for Western feminists to instruct them in how to fight for their rights. Today a younger generation of feminists is building on the work of female activists who struggled against dictatorship in the 1970s. [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => open [ping_status] => open [post_password] => [post_name] => pakistans-feminist-revolution-the-second-generation [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2024-08-28 21:14:03 [post_modified_gmt] => 2024-08-28 21:14:03 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://conversationalist.org/?p=730 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw )
Poster for Aurat March 2018

Pakistan’s feminist revolution: the second generation

WP_Post Object
(
    [ID] => 673
    [post_author] => 8
    [post_date] => 2019-03-01 20:57:17
    [post_date_gmt] => 2019-03-01 20:57:17
    [post_content] => 

The most compelling argument for repatriating British citizen Shamima Begum, who sneaked into Syria and joined the Islamic State when she was 15, is based not on emotion but on cold, hard logic.

On February 19 the British home secretary announced that he had decided to revoke the citizenship of 19 year-old Shamima Begum, the London-born daughter of immigrants from Bangladesh. Begum sneaked out of Britain and infiltrated Syria to join the Islamic State when she was 15 years old, becoming one of its most notorious promoters on social media platforms. Now, with the ISIS routed from nearly all its territory in Syria, Begum is detained in a Kurdish-controlled detention camp. In interviews with British media outlets, the teenage ISIS bride, who recently gave birth to her third child (the first two died), asked to be allowed to return to the UK.

Begum’s request set off a storm of controversy, with those who opposed her repatriation pointing to her lack of contrition for having supported notorious terror attacks like the 2017 Manchester Arena bombing. Those who favor bringing the young woman back to Britain point to international law, which prohibits rendering a person stateless. While Begum’s parents are Bangladeshi, she is not a citizen of the South Asian country; the government of Bangladesh has said that it would not be willing to take her in.

Other arguments in support of her repatriation include the fact that her child is a UK citizen, and revoking the citizenship of one person for engaging in politically unacceptable activity sets a dangerous precedent.

My argument is based neither on international law nor on sympathy for Begum's innocent child, but rather on cold logic. The fact is that the British government, with its decision to strip Shamima Begum of her citizenship, is playing directly into the hands of ISIS. It is implementing the Islamic State’s own policy — thereby strengthening jihadi recruiting methods.

The Begum case pours salt into one of the gaping wounds of the postcolonial condition: as in the case of other ISIS brides, the British government’s decision to revoke Shamima Begum’s citizenship makes her “someone else’s problem now.” She has been cast aside, a move justified by pointing to her ancestral roots in another nation-state (which happens to be a former British colony) — where she is not even a citizen. To British Muslims, their government’s message is very clear: “you will never really be British.”

But the fundamental problem with stripping citizenship from ISIS returnees is far more worrying and destructive than having made Muslims feel that they will never belong in the so-called West. The real consequence of the British home secretary's announcement is that is doing  the work of the Islamic State by stepping right into its propaganda trap.

The difference between compassion and understanding

Shamima Begum’s case elicits heated emotions and divisive debates. People who say they are trying to “understand” the teenager's motives, or who call for compassion to be shown toward her, provoke reflexive and performative expressions of horror and, often, the accusation that they are soft on ISIS.

Propaganda succeeds when it provokes emotional responses that override one’s willingness or ability to respond with logic and reason — rather than reacting emotionally. And that is the ISIS trap.

I understand well the temptation to give in to one’s emotions: Steven Sotloff, the American journalist who was killed in Syria by ISIS in 2014, was a close friend.

The way to lose a war is by dehumanizing your enemy.  When your enemy appears wholly irrational and monstrous, the idea of trying to “understand” her ostensibly renders one guilty of “sympathizing.” But it is impossible to defeat an opponent whom you do not understand — because you will never see them coming.

ISIS 101: Citizenship, gender, and civilians in the caliphate

If Shamima Begum joined a terrorist group, does that make her a terrorist? The question is a valid one, albeit controversial. There is a difference between offering support and actively carrying a weapon for a terrorist group. The jihadi brides are accused of providing support by disseminating pro-ISIS propaganda on social media platforms.

But while the regime of Syria’s President Bashar al-Assad has killed far more civilians than ISIS could ever aspire to, one very rarely hears calls to revoke the British passport of Asma al-Assad, the London-born wife of the Syrian dictator. And yet, Asma al-Assad frequently and vehemently expresses her uncritical support for her husband’s regime and its army, both on social media and in television appearances that are broadcast all over the world.

Note, too, that men who were recruited to become fighters with ISIS were later repatriated to their home countries with only a fraction of the media attention paid to Shamima Begum’s request return to her native England. If we fail to grasp that the case of Shamima Begum is complex, then we simply do not understand ISIS.

The first two letters of the acronym ISIS stand for Islamic State. The caliphate aspires to establish a state, and states need civilian settlers, not just an army. They need a nation of citizens to govern, which requires civilians — including women and children — who have chosen the caliphate over the contemporary nation-state.

That is why when men who are new recruits to the Islamic State’s fighting force arrive in IS-held territory, they are compelled to burn their passports in a ritual act that is recorded. ISIS propagandists disseminate the videos of those passport burning ceremonies online, where they are shared widely, with the intended impact of severing from those new recruits the possibility of returning home. Women who join the Islamic State as jihadi brides are also compelled to burn their passports.

Why, then, is the public far less outraged about male jihadi fighters having been repatriated to their home countries than they are about women who joined the Islamic State and now want to return home? The answer is that when young women like 19 year-old Shamima Begum join the jihadis to become their brides, and praise them for carrying out beheadings or terror attacks on European soil, they contradict a very commonly held orientalist stereotype about oppressed Muslim women who lack agency. Note well that much of the controversy over Shamima Begum has been over her apparent lack of contrition. There is an unsettling contrast between her shapeless traditional black robe and hijab, which many interpret as a symbol of oppression, and the assertive manner in which she expresses pro-ISIS opinions.

The fastest and most efficient way to lose a war is to underestimate your opponent. If you believe they are irrational and incapable of strategizing, then you are underestimating them. The key to winning the war is to understand the enemy. Critical here is an overlooked feature of ISIS propaganda — the organization tailors messaging with particular audience demographics in mind. ISIS purposely represents themselves as monstrous and irrational, because that image plays into our fears and stereotypes. They weaponize orientalist stereotypes against us — and we fall for it, every time..

Remember that ISIS sees itself as a state, which means it must attract civilians, including women, as well as male fighters. The vast majority of ISIS propaganda is, to the surprise of many, not violent. Instead, it employs utopian images of a sustainable state and nation—where civilians can live in safety and security in a welcoming, multi-racial, autonomous and sovereign state. Shamima Begum was recruited online from her London home, when she was only 15 years old, because she saw those propaganda videos of a land where — in contrast to Saudi Arabia — women could drive, and were promised comfortable lives as the wives of fighters, but not as fighters themselves.  Of course we can find Begum’s decision to join ISIS abhorrent, and her gullibility for the group’s propaganda absurd. But remember: we are falling for ISIS propaganda too — just different propaganda, which targets a different audience.

Neurology, violence, and trauma: The making of child soldiers

Public outcry over Shamima Begum has largely focused on her failure to express remorse. Fundamental to both the ISIS state-making project, and the production of child soldiers is the role of neurological development before the age of twenty-five. Begum joined the IS when she was 15 years old. Much like the ISIS youth group, Cubs of the Caliphate, Begum has witnessed — and perhaps committed — acts of grotesque violence and morally abhorrent trauma at an age well before the brain develops its capacity to exert full agency, to cope with trauma, or to deal with the consequences of one’s actions.

The leaders of the ISIS youth groups deliberately traumatize children when they are very young, as a means of ensuring that their psychological scars make their reentry to their home society nearly impossible. In their graduation ceremony from ISIS youth groups, children are forced to commit an act of murder. This same method was used to recruit child soldiers in Sierra Leone and Côte d'Ivoire. 

Once children have been forced to witness or participate in morally injurious acts like murder, the psychological scars are profound. The guilt and self-hatred can prove irreversible without considerable assistance—one reason, among others, that the reintegration of child soldiers proves a challenge across global conflict zones. Worse, these underage returnees are well aware that society views them as monsters — damaged beyond recognition. And so they are inculcated with the idea that there is no going back home, because “home” no longer exists.

Successful counterterrorism tactics

Shamima Begum needs help — if for no other reason than the biological reality of her age means that her neurological ability to reason is limited. There is also the concern that she has witnessed extensive trauma that she is — again, for neurological reasons — unable to process. This is not an appeal to set her free, nor a suggestion that she face no consequences for her actions. One can understand why she behaved as she did, without condoning her actions.

The fact is that we, the people who want to defeat ISIS, need Shamima Begum. Repatriated former members of the Islamic State are the best weapon we have in the war against jihadism. They are, in fact, the only credible messengers. By repatriating them, we slay the jihadi propaganda claim that the so-called West not only doesn’t care about its Muslim citizens, or that it commits human rights abuses far worse than those of the caliphate’s fighters. By bringing Shamima Begum home to Britain, we give lie to the ISIS claim that once recruits join the Islamic State, they can never go home again  — that their governments will disown them, because they do not care about or want their Muslim citizens. 

What next

Successful counterterrorism strategy is not driven by public emotion or political expediency. The politicians who chose to take the populist route in revoking Shamima Begum’s citizenship capitulated in the face of a frightened electorate. In doing so, they fell straight into the trap set by ISIS. They confirmed what jihadi propaganda videos preach to followers and to potential new recruits: that their home countries are led by non-believers who don’t care about them or want them, and that they are thus better off in the caliphate than in suburban London (or Paris, or Brussels, or Toronto).

I am not calling for peace, love, and understanding for ISIS, but precisely the opposite: an emphatic reminder that cold, hard logic makes for successful policy. The purpose of ISIS propaganda is to undermine our ability to engage in logical thought by blinding us with hate-filled emotion. In the case of Shamima Begum, the British government handed ISIS their victory — because a public frightened by beheading videos votes on emotion. Politicians win elections not on strategy that is born of detached logic, but on the calculus of political expediency.

Fear-inducing propaganda is extremely effective — until it isn’t. But rather than wait to see if something worse comes after propaganda stops working, let's take some preemptive, logical action. Let's show vulnerable teenagers who spend far too much time online that ISIS propaganda is a lie. 

[post_title] => When Britain Revoked a Jihadi Bride's Citizenship, They Fell for ISIS Propaganda [post_excerpt] => The most compelling argument for repatriating British citizen Shamima Begum, who sneaked into Syria and joined the Islamic State when she was 15, is based not on emotion but on cold, hard logic. [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => open [ping_status] => open [post_password] => [post_name] => when-britain-revoked-isis-bride-shamima-begums-citizenship-they-fell-right-into-the-isis-propaganda-trap [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2024-08-28 21:11:31 [post_modified_gmt] => 2024-08-28 21:11:31 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://conversationalist.org/?p=673 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw )
The older sister of Shamima Begum, Renu Begum, holds a photo of her sister with a child. Two of her fingers obscure the child's face. She is wearing rings on two of her fingers and a watch on her wrist. In the photo, Shamima's hair is tied in a bun and she's wearing a burgundy button down shirt buttoned to the top, and a matching blazer over it. She is looking directly at the camera.

When Britain Revoked a Jihadi Bride’s Citizenship, They Fell for ISIS Propaganda

WP_Post Object
(
    [ID] => 646
    [post_author] => 7
    [post_date] => 2019-02-22 14:30:42
    [post_date_gmt] => 2019-02-22 14:30:42
    [post_content] => The MeToo movement inspired a much-needed conversation about the treatment of women at the hands of powerful men. For the past year and half, those with “an upper hand” have learned it’s best to keep both hands to themselves. Society is finally beginning to internalize the understanding that women are not mere sexual objects. 

But while that same society has cautioned men about their behavior, it has done little to widen their perspectives about who women are – and can be: experts. 

We are still far behind in acknowledging and learning from the knowledge and contributions of women who are leading experts in a wide range of professional fields. This is especially true in science, technology, finance, law, and national security. “Expertise” in these fields is still one-dimensional and dominated by men. Given the enormous challenges we face today – from climate change to extremism and pandemics to inequality, it is imperative that we graduate from peering at the world through a peephole and instead look at it through a much wider frame.

In 2018 my organization, Foreign Policy Interrupted (FPI), released a study that looked at foreign policy op-eds across three one-year periods, in four major U.S. newspapers. The op-eds we examined were on a broad variety of topics that included global affairs, national security, war, development, human rights, global trade and commerce, and bilateral and multilateral issues. We found that over a 20-year period, from 1996-2016, women authored only 15 percent of all the op-eds published in those four newspapers. 

Breaking the all-male habit

“Women don’t pitch,” is the response commonly heard from editors. Often they will add that “women lack confidence.” In this way they place the blame on women, rather than acknowledging a fact of which all women are aware: that the majority of institutions, such as government, finance, and media, were and still are man-made and male-dominated. The same is true for the professional and social networks from which those experts are selected. Women have been struggling for decades just to break into those institutions and networks — never mind actually rise in the ranks and become influencers. It is still the case that most editors, producers, and reporters are men, as a study published this week shows, and men are unlikely to seek out female experts. The result is that the public does not hear from leading experts who could bring real insight to pressing issues. In an article I co-authored last August for the Columbia Journalism Review, I note that journalists tend to return to the same sources because they are “...driven by the pressure to produce ever more content with ever fewer resources.” When breaking news hits, journalists, editors, and producers are under tremendous deadline pressure, and so they do not have the time or inclination to research and talk to real experts. Instead, they go directly to the people working on and influencing an issue. If it’s North Korea, the media is knocking at the National Security Council and Defense Department. If it’s the Amazon headquarters deal in New York City, the media calls up contacts in the tech industry. If it’s a drop in the NASDAQ, the media rushes to Wall Street bankers and investors. In each case, men occupy the top spots – which means, of course, that the reporting on these stories is dominated by opinions expressed by men. These men are presented as the “experts,” but in fact they are the kingmakers. They drive the narrative – not to share understanding, but to justify their own positions and decisions.

The perils of quick 'n easy information

This is a dangerous state of affairs. The public is led to believe that their media platforms present them with the best information, when in fact they are mostly presenting them with information that happens to be the easiest and quickest to obtain. The troubling result is an opinionated public that believes it is well-informed, when it is actually being kept in the dark. Because female expertise has for so long been ignored or minimized, women who pitch opinion pieces to media outlets are often held to a different, harsher standard than a man. When, for example, Beatrice Fihn, the director of the International Campaign to Abolish Nuclear Weapons, pitched a piece about her work on disarmament in the fall of 2017, editors turned it down on the grounds that it was “too idealistic” or not “hard hitting.” Several months later Ms. Fihn accepted the Nobel Peace Prize on behalf of her organization. Perhaps it is, indeed, “idealistic” to campaign for the abolishment of nuclear weapons. But that campaign represents an important point of view that adds another dimension to a consequential topic — specifically, the fate of humanity. The only way we are going to hear about these added dimensions is by reaching beyond the status quo and tapping into different experiences and backgrounds. That is true not only for women, but also for people of color. The consequences of ignoring women and other diverse voices are far reaching. Not only are we presented with an incomplete picture but, even more gravely, we are overlooking the people who have the knowledge and skills to help us all reach comprehensive solutions to serious problems. When women participate in peace talks, for example, agreements are 64 percent less likely to fail. When women play a role in creating a peace process, the resulting agreement is 35 percent more likely to last at least 15 years.

How to do better

A number of journalists have made an effort to seek out alternative voices. Ed Young from The Atlantic has talked about the efforts he has put in to diversify his sources, doing extra work to find women in science. A number of other journalists have contacted me about female voices in foreign policy, namely from NPR, and Australia’s ABC. Bloomberg has also reached out. Time, CNN, and The New Republic have been champions — in each case, because female editors have taken the lead. Given the enormity of global challenges and the rapid pace at which the world is changing, it is vitally incumbent upon editors to widen their scope. They must consider pitches from voices that diverge from the ones they are accustomed to hearing, and they must be open to different perspectives — even if they sound “idealistic.” When editors make the effort to expand their worldview, they will find numerous resources to support their work.  FPI’s Friday newsletter, SheSource,  Women Also Know Stuff, and Sourcelist, list female experts in all areas, in multitudes. The point is not to reach down and pull women up. Rather, it is to throw off the blinders and reach wide to grasp the abundant and multidimensional expertise that will make the world a better place for all of us. Elmira Bayrasli is the author of  From The Other Side of The World: Extraordinary Entrepreneurs, Unlikely Places. She is the co-founder and CEO of Foreign Policy Interrupted and teaches at Bard College. She lives in Brooklyn, New York. [post_title] => Media outlets are still not amplifying female experts, and this means we really don't know what's going on in the world [post_excerpt] => According to a 2018 study that looked at foreign policy op-eds across three one-year periods in four major U.S. newspapers, women authored only 15 percent of all the op-eds published in those four newspapers over a 20-year period. [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => open [ping_status] => open [post_password] => [post_name] => media-outlets-are-still-not-amplifying-female-experts-and-this-means-we-really-dont-know-whats-going-on-in-the-world [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2024-08-28 21:15:14 [post_modified_gmt] => 2024-08-28 21:15:14 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://conversationalist.org/?p=646 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw )

Media outlets are still not amplifying female experts, and this means we really don’t know what’s going on in the world

WP_Post Object
(
    [ID] => 611
    [post_author] => 6
    [post_date] => 2019-02-14 19:18:23
    [post_date_gmt] => 2019-02-14 19:18:23
    [post_content] => 

 

Critics of the #metoo movement see trends that threaten to undermine the privileges they regard as rightfully theirs

More than a year into the #MeToo movement, new stories continue to break about powerful men brought low over patterns of sexual misconduct. In January alone, singer R. Kelly, actor Kevin Spacey, and director Bryan Singer all saw real professional and legal consequences for years of sexual predation. The conversations #MeToo has inspired on long-festering issues of sexual harassment and gender discrimination are acquiring momentum and depth. But there is one aspect of #MeToo that has not yet received the attention it deserves — possibly because it is discomfiting to so many of its would-be allies — and that is the threat the movement poses to the ruling class.

The people who see this threat clearly are the critics of #MeToo who identify as social liberals. Many of them claim to admire the movement’s achievements, and to rejoice in the downfall of egregious offenders like Harvey Weinstein. But those same putative allies of the movement also sense that #MeToo represents a real threat to the social hierarchy from which they benefit — and this elicits deep anxiety and fear.

A challenge to the social order

#MeToo is, among many other things, a revolt against the establishment. It is a revolt against the inadequacies of the legal system that usually protects the rulers, even as it fails to protect vulnerable people from predators. Every #MeToo story represents accountability not just for a particular bad man, but for a wider network of people who have profited from enabling and protecting him. The movement has exposed a narrow, legalistic understanding of morality, whereby actions can only be judged by the standards of what is admissible in court. The #MeToo movement challenges everyone to uphold standards of ethical decency that do not fall under the rubric of the letter of the law. This is a threat to those who have benefited from the status quo.

The anxiety of the establishment has been palpable almost from the beginning of the #MeToo movement. The New York Times broke the Weinstein story in October 2017; within one month, Times opinion editor and columnist Bari Weiss was concern-trolling that “due process is better than mob rule.” In a November 2017 column titled, “The Limits of Believe All Women” Weiss writes: “In less than two months we’ve moved from uncovering accusations of criminal behavior (Harvey Weinstein) to criminalizing behavior that we previously regarded as presumptuous and boorish (Glenn Thrush).”

A month later, in a column entitled “When #MeToo Goes Too Far,” Bret Stephens stood up for Thrush, then a star reporter at the Washington bureau of the Times who was under investigation for sexually harassing much younger women. Dean Baquet, the newspaper’s executive editor, eventually decided that while Thrush had “behaved in ways that [the Times] does not condone,” he “does not deserve to be fired.” Instead, management decided to punish Thrush by suspending him without pay for two months, and by removing him from the prestigious D.C. bureau. Many eyebrows rose over this decision and the ambivalent message it telegraphed about the paper’s policy toward sexual predators on staff.

On the one hand, investigative reporters Jodi Kantor and Megan Twohey were doing Pulitzer Prize-winning work that took down Harvey Weinstein, one of the most powerful men in Hollywood, and inspired a global reckoning with sexual predation and the people who enable it. On the other hand, when one of the paper’s own staffers was credibly accused of behaving inappropriately toward much younger women, management decided against enacting a policy that protected women by making men like Thrush understand the cost of harassment and predation.

The law v ethics

In publicly defending Thrush before the investigation into his behavior had concluded, Weiss and Stephens were expressing a concern that went far beyond the impulse to protect a colleague. Their worry is one that has echoed during the #MeToo era: what if the movement gets out of hand and “mob justice” fills the vacuum left by the failure of the legal system to punish sexual predators and protect the vulnerable? If someone like Thrush hasn’t committed a crime according to the law, but he has, to borrow a phrase from Baquet’s statement, “acted offensively,” who decides on the appropriate punishment? Thrush’s fate showed that the privileges men like him had viewed as rightfully theirs were suddenly vulnerable. It is this understanding that elicits the fearful responses we see disguised as righteous indignation.

What really worried Weiss and Stephens, in other words, wasn’t the threatening work  environment that someone like Thrush might have created for younger women, but the idea that Thrush’s career trajectory might be affected negatively if he were judged by ethical standards instead of legal standards. In short, they were defending the freedom from accountability that is a perk of membership in the elite.

A September 2018 scandal involving an employee of Israel’s foreign ministry provides further insight into this anxiety. In the wake of credible accusations of sexual misconduct leveled by several women, David Keyes, who had been hired two years earlier as a spokesperson for Israel’s Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, was forced to resign. Bret Stephens, who in his previous position as deputy opinion editor of the Wall Street Journal had worked with Keyes, commented on the record for the Times on this incident.

Back in 2013, Keyes, then a New York-based neoconservative activist, had frequented the Journal’s offices as part of his outreach to the opinion section. During this period, he propositioned at least four female Journal employees at the office. Stephens told the Times that “he gave Mr. Keyes a dressing-down, calling him a ‘disgrace to men’ and ‘a disgrace as a Jew,’ and barred him from the office without an appointment.” Stephens also said that in November 2016 he contacted Ron Dermer, Israel’s ambassador to the US, to warn him that Keyes “posed a risk to women in Israeli government offices.”

Stephens’s self-described actions in this story seem honorable at first glance. He chastised Keyes for his harassment of women at the Journal and he warned Keyes’s employer. But if Stephens knew that Keyes was harassing Journal employees, why didn’t he bar him altogether from the newspaper’s offices, instead of limiting him to visits by appointment? Why did a non-employee get to wander the Journal offices without an appointment in the first place, and why would anyone make an appointment with Keyes after being made aware of the serious allegations against him? Stephens also delayed contacting Dermer until months after Netanyahu hired Keyes as his spokesperson. He apparently took no further action after warning Dermer, and didn’t go public with any of this information until the story broke two years later.

These situations are, to be fair, not easy to navigate. Stephens might not have had enough information to take more drastic action than he did. Or he might have felt bound to respect the privacy of Keyes’s accusers, who had not yet gone public. And it’s also worth acknowledging that all of the incidents involving Keyes preying on women at the Journal took place before #MeToo, which upended everyone’s understanding of how someone like Keyes might be held accountable.

Who decides on justice?

But what’s striking about the way Stephens chose to handle the matter is that he deferred to Dermer’s judgment and kept the matter out of the public domain. Stephens balanced his desire to prevent workplace harassment of women against his relationship with Dermer, who is an extremely powerful figure in Israel and in the elite U.S. media circles in which Stephens operates; and he exercised the prerogative of powerful white men to decide how best to handle a male employee’s conduct toward women.

I don’t like Stephens’s work and I disagree with his politics, but this isn’t about picking on him. This is about identifying the real source of his concern regarding #MeToo — i.e., not that predatory men are being held accountable for their behavior, but that powerful people won’t be able to control the process of accountability, and that instead accusers will be able to try predatory men in the court of public opinion. Stephens isn’t defending the right to harass, but he is defending the right of people like him to decide what constitutes harassment — and what an appropriate punishment ought to be. He is defending, in short, the existing power structure.

Another recent example can be seen in Ian Buruma’s brief tenure as editor of the New York Review of Books. Last fall, Buruma decided, against the wishes of most of the NYRB staff, to publish a first-person essay by Jian Ghomeshi, the disgraced host of Q, a syndicated radio program, who had been fired from the Canadian Broadcasting Company (CBC) in 2014 after more than 20 women accused him of non-consensual violence during sexual encounters.

The Ghomeshi essay prompted mass outrage in the literary world and set off a storm of rage on Twitter. Then Buruma compounded his error by agreeing to an interview with Slate’s Isaac Chotiner, in which he made clear his ambivalence about #MeToo and his concern that it could have “undesirable consequences.” Of Ghomeshi’s actions, Buruma said “All I know is that in a court of law he was acquitted, and there is no proof he committed a crime.” He added, “The exact nature of his behavior — how much consent was involved — I have no idea, nor is it really my concern.” After the Chotiner interview, NYRB staff revolted, and the magazine’s publisher forced Buruma to resign.

Buruma, like Stephens, has not been accused of sexual misconduct. The unsettling thing about his actions is that he instinctively extended the benefit of the doubt to a credibly accused violent predator whose behavior had long been an open secret in Canadian media circles, tolerated by male executives who for years had considered Ghomeshi too valuable to fire. Instead of experiencing relief that such a dangerous man had been exiled from media, Buruma felt moved to give Ghomeshi a prestigious new platform, to facilitate his return to polite society, and to defend him on the grounds that he hadn’t been convicted in court. Ghomeshi is legally entitled to his freedom, but it’s men like Buruma who think he’s entitled to a powerful position in the culture as well.

Or consider the most recent edition of Esquire magazine. It features a cover story on a white middle-class 17-year-old boy in Wisconsin trying to navigate the murky waters of the post-#MeToo era. The teenager in question comes across as remarkably ordinary, but Esquire editor Jay Fielden provides a very telling reason for telling the boy’s banal story via one of the most widely read publications in print journalism. In an editor’s letter, he writes:

"The very social fabric of modern democratic civilization — watercooler BS, chats with cabbies and total strangers, dinner parties, large family gatherings — sometimes feel like a Kafkaesque thought-police nightmare of paranoia and nausea, in which you might accidentally say what you really believe and get burned at the stake."

Fielden mourns an imaginary era in which playing devil’s advocate at parties was a fun pastime (for white men like him, he neglects to add). And he expresses his concern that kids today are feeling overwhelmed by “the passions and change this moment has unleashed—#MeToo, gender fluidity, Black Lives Matter, “check your privilege,” and #TheFutureIsFemale.” #MeToo, of course, is the first item on the list.

Protecting one's own

Again, no one is accusing either Fielden or his teenage protagonist of having behaved inappropriately in their dealings with women. But Fielden shares with Buruma, Stephens, and so many other powerful white men in media an abiding concern that #MeToo represents a threat to him and to everyone else in his insulated world of upper middle class white people. It’s not sexual misconduct per se that he’s defending; rather, he is defending the right to be forgiven easily, to be protected from consequences, and to set the terms of debate, as men like Fielden can do by deciding who gets to be on the cover of a prestigious national magazine that is displayed on every newsstand in the country.

At its core, #MeToo is about who gets to hold power in the workplace. Until now, the people holding the power have been overwhelmingly white and male. Since almost no one gives up power and privilege voluntarily, these white men are obviously invested in maintaining the status quo. But even if that weren’t the case, even if the leadership class were fully representative of the country’s actual demographics, unaccountable power would be a problem in and of itself.

That’s why #MeToo frightens elites. It’s one thing to banish a handful of men for sexual predation or for using racial slurs, or even to replace them with leaders from the communities they offended and marginalized. It’s another thing to challenge the entire premise of their authority, to argue that the lowliest employees have a right to tell their story, to take private transgressions and make them public, to build solidarity with other people in the same position, and to rewrite the terms of one’s own employment without asking anyone’s permission. #MeToo isn’t just a cultural revolution; it’s a labor revolution, and it won’t be complete until the entire system that allows people to get away with predatory behavior is toppled.

David Klion is a freelance journalist who has written for The Nation, Jewish Currents, and The Guardian. Follow him on Twitter.

 

[post_title] => Why #metoo makes the ruling class nervous [post_excerpt] => The people who see this threat clearly are the critics of #MeToo who identify as social liberals. Many of them claim to admire the movement’s achievements, and to rejoice in the downfall of egregious offenders like Harvey Weinstein. But those same putative allies of the movement also sense that #MeToo represents a real threat to the social hierarchy from which they benefit. [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => open [ping_status] => open [post_password] => [post_name] => why-metoo-makes-the-ruling-class-nervous [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2024-08-28 21:14:03 [post_modified_gmt] => 2024-08-28 21:14:03 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://conversationalist.org/?p=611 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw )

Why #metoo makes the ruling class nervous

WP_Post Object
(
    [ID] => 398
    [post_author] => 2
    [post_date] => 2019-01-22 14:38:04
    [post_date_gmt] => 2019-01-22 14:38:04
    [post_content] => 

Donald Trump is a criminal, just not in the spy-game fever dream you’ve imagined.

The real trick to making sense of Trump lies in understanding the black market. You know who gets this dual mentality? Vladimir “Panama Papers” Putin. The chaotic narrative of Trump’s actions gains some coherence when you frame his dealings as either legitimate or on the side. It’s a kind of double-speak Russians are familiar with.

Once known primarily for fraud, including allegations of money laundering and labor trafficking, Trump has leveled upwards in the gangster world. As president, his social set now includes mercenary billionairesbanking oligarchs and oil tycoons. Men who considered him small fry just months ago are knocking down Mar-a-Lago’s door.

Some have likened this presidency to "House of Cards,” but Trump can’t hold a candle to Frank Underwood’s brilliant maneuvering. As has been noted before, Trump is a Batman villain rampaging through a Gotham with no Batman. He’s the Queens construction boss with a short fuse, mob ties, a penchant for stiffing workers and a predatory appetite for women. Bankrupt morally and financially, he becomes a reality star and ultimately President. Next step, attempted global domination.

Is it any wonder that Americans jumped at the mention of Trump Escorts being trademarked in China? Never mind the Trump lawyer’s reasonable statement that it was done to circumvent notorious Chinese piracy. On some level, however, we were hoping for a new twist in the drama, for some kind of evidence that our president is a glorified pimp.

After all, human trafficking, defined by the use of force or coercion to extract labor, including sex work, is the second-most lucrative transnational crime after drugs. Trafficking often occurs when migrants are forced from their homes in search of opportunities elsewhere, whether due to poverty, violence or increasing geopolitical and environmental instability. Long before he was president, Trump had a track record of intimidating vulnerable immigrants, his wives included.

Trump has previously capitalized on women through beauty pageants and his modeling agency, which is alleged to have trafficked women into the country on incorrect visas, subsequently taking their passports and withholding wages. Boasting about spying on underage women doesn’t help his case. Meanwhile, whether the sensational Steele dossier is true or not, one thing it did reveal is how comfortably Putin and Trump laugh when characterizing Russian prostitutes as one of Russia’s great natural resources.

Trump stinks of corruption. Even if we don’t know what he is up to exactly, we do know something about his scene. The tourism industry has come under increased scrutiny over its unique position with regard to human trafficking. Hotels, not pizza parlors, are known hot spots for many forms of trafficking. Victims range from the construction workers who build them and the house keepers who clean them to the sex workers who service men in them.

To use the earlier example of China, the 2016 Global Study on Sexual Exploitation of Children in Travel and Tourism says that increased business travel in East Asia has increased the likelihood of children being sexually exploited. “Corporate culture in these [East Asian] countries often calls for after-hours “meetings” characterized by alcohol and sex to cement social and business relations.” The study further notes that some Chinese men value sex with children because virginity brings youthfulness and good fortune in business.

More generally, the 2016 U.S. State Department Trafficking in Persons Reportnotes that like many countries, criminal syndicates and local gangs run trafficking networks in China. Meanwhile, the One Child Policy and cultural gender bias has created a lopsided number of male children. Women from poorer regions and neighboring countries have been trafficked in to make up the difference.

Some international hotel chains like Marriott International and Wyndham Hotels have taken note of the larger problem and partnered with anti-trafficking groups ECPAT-USA and Polaris to create the Code, a specific set of practices and guidelines for the tourism industry to combat the sexual exploitation of children. The new training guidelines were implemented by Marriott in Rio de Janeiro during the Olympics and has gained traction since.

As for Trump, there has been no sign of his hotels’ participation in these tourism initiatives. Trump may have left Atlantic City for the White House, but he’ll never be better than Trump Taj Mahal.

Take for instance Vice’s report from Dubai about Trump paying migrant workers poorly, keeping them in squalor while they build his new golf course. The New Yorker’s investigation into Trump Tower Baku opens up the possibilities that Trump was in bed with the Iranian Revolutionary Guard through a partnership with the Mammadov family, paid for in cash and personally supervised by his daughter Ivanka.

As president, Trump continues to exploit workers while paying lip service to human trafficking and sexual assault. His current reign of terror against undocumented immigrants in the U.S. is reminiscent of the time Trump threatened to deport the undocumented Polish workers who cleared the land for Trump Tower. Mexican and Central American construction workers are still victims of trafficking here in America.

Trump has preyed on vulnerable communities his whole life, as the repeated labor violations and discriminatory practices show. As President, he’s vowed to fight the epidemic of human trafficking though he openly promotes policies which exacerbate its root causes. Banning refugees, closing our borders, and stirring up global and environmental chaos benefits the criminal underground, as Trump well knows.

Time to face it — we’ve put a thug in the Oval Office because we’re racist snobs about crime and who constitutes a “criminal.” When Trump strikes, his tailored suit doesn’t in any way mean that he hurts people less; it just helps conceal who he actually is. If you don’t believe me, ask the Russians.

 

[post_title] => Trump Underground [post_excerpt] => The chaotic narrative of Trump’s actions gains some coherence when you frame his dealings as either legitimate or on the side. It’s a kind of double-speak Russians are familiar with. [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => open [ping_status] => open [post_password] => [post_name] => trump-underground-2 [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2024-08-28 21:11:31 [post_modified_gmt] => 2024-08-28 21:11:31 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://conversationalist.org/?p=398 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw )

Trump Underground

WP_Post Object
(
    [ID] => 378
    [post_author] => 2
    [post_date] => 2019-01-22 14:24:07
    [post_date_gmt] => 2019-01-22 14:24:07
    [post_content] => 

Valid criticisms of Melania Trump have been taken as a license to mock her marriage.

It’s hard to feel sympathy for Cersei Lannister, the icy queen from Game of Thrones. She’s a vindictive, murderous woman whose only redeeming quality is her love for her children (until it isn’t.) Still, I cannot rejoice when her character is paraded naked before crowds shouting “Shame! Shame!” nor when her brother rapes her or her father brutally dismisses her. Her humiliation in those instances is too familiar. It’s not fantasy. The thing about those scenes is that Cersei is not being punished for the evil she’s committed — she is being punished because she’s a woman. Gender violence is like an invisible cage, and no amount of money or status can free you from it. I won’t ever cheer for it.

This is why the recent attacks on Melania Trump, an unsympathetic character, give me chills.

It’s not because she’s immune from criticism, whether for enabling Donald Trump or for her own bigotry, far from it. It’s because those valid criticisms have been taken as license to mock her unfortunate marriage to DJT.

Trump is an abuser. He himself has made that clear. That makes him dangerous to his wife. And she likely won’t be able to redeem herself without putting herself and her child in harm’s way.

The viral video of Melania’s face falling as her husband turns his back to her during the inauguration made many people laugh. But while you’re mocking their marriage, he’s likely terrorizing her for letting her face slip on television.

How do I know that?

1)The news is already filled with White House leaks about his uncontrollable narcissistic rage.

2) An abuser’s greatest fear is that his victim might tell on him. Around the world, women and children in abusive situations are killed over revelations far smaller than what this GIF reveals:

Your denial of the stakes involved only isolates abused women and children further.

Believe me, they feel your indifference. They know that you don’t believe them. Their worst fears are realized every time people turn their heads, close their eyes and refuse to bear witness.

Victims of domestic violence, if they’re lucky, find strength in good samaritans — people who are disturbed and refuse to look away — people like Michelle and Barack Obama, who graciously waited for Melania on inauguration day and escorted her inside the White House. Even then, the relief is temporary. Eventually she’ll be alone with him again.

Don’t fear intimate violence in your daily life? Lucky you. Now shut up, because you know nothing.

The comedian Russell Peters has a famous bit about immigrant parents beating their children. “White people, please beat your kids,” he says. Why? Because immigrant kids want what white kids have — no real consequences for their behavior.

In Peters’ bit, a white kid tells little Russell, “next time your parents try and beat you, threaten Child Protective Services.” Little Russell goes home, threatens his Indian dad and gets his ass whooped like never before. Never adopt that angry white kid’s advice, Peters warns — it’ll get you killed.

Think about that the next time you judge Melania for staying with Trump. Imagine what kind of threats he uses to make her stay. It’s hard to understand them if you’ve never been subjected to them. It’s easy to be like the white kid in the Peters bit.

Remember, this country was so indifferent to Trump’s abusive ways, it elected him President. He has the lawyers, the money, and the muscle. He is free to humiliate any member of his family — whether it’s publicly agreeing that his daughter Ivanka is a “piece of ass,” or making it obvious that he cheats on his wife.

Once upon a time, Melania was literally an illegal immigrant, and while the hypocrisy of that fact in light of Trump’s racist, anti-immigrant campaign is obvious, her vulnerability should be too.

After multiple divorces, it’s no accident that Trump eventually seduced a much younger, poorer immigrant woman who could not defend herself publicly for fear of being kicked out of the country.

Though Melania consented to marry him, liberals who claim she therefore deserves whatever comes next are adopting Trump’s logic.

Meanwhile, Melania’s famous nude photos are empowering to Trump but not to her. He shows his wife off like a thoroughbred. She, on the other hand, can’t win. If she’s proud of them, she’s a whore. If she’s not, she’s a prude and a hypocrite.

Either way, Melania is stuck with a conman who raped his first wife, Ivana, because he was enraged about a bald spot, and whose idea of consent is to grab first and never apologize. Let me remind you that, according to this man’s lawyer, “you can’t rape your spouse.”

Speaking of which, where have Ivana and Marla been hidden? Ivana has been conspicuously silent about her daughter, Ivanka, essentially playing First Lady for her ex. Marla has reportedly been begging for hand-outs.

Finally, if you think Trump wouldn’t forcibly separate his youngest son Barron from his mother, you’re naïve.

Trump, like other narcissists, gets off on the impunity with which he transgresses norms. He wants you to think that Melania “deserves” whatever she gets.

Appearances can be deceptive. #BlackLivesMatter, for example, has disrupted white Americans’ benevolent view of “nice police officers who are only doing their jobs.” Melania, meanwhile, disrupts the commonly held belief that “a wealthy lifestyle means you’re safe.”

For abused women and children, the family home is not a refuge — it’s a prison. Despite what you think, prisons can come in gold.

I never felt for Melania more than when she was allowed to remain in New York with Barron. She didn’t want to see Trump every day — who would? And my stomach flipped when Trump looked over Melania’s shoulder as she voted. We turned that image into another fun meme — but ignored the darker implications:

Trump wasn’t just checking to see that Melania voted for him. He was threatening her should she hesitate.

Why? Because monsters hate being reminded that they’re monsters. Abusers beat you harder when you wince.

Forgive the frankness, but despite what you think, Melania’s job isn’t to get fucked by her husband; it’s to smile and scream that she loves it when he hurts her. He relishes her forgiveness of the unforgivable; her total submission.

Remember how he embarrassed her for laughs at the Al Smith dinner? It was played as a warm-hearted joke — but Trump never makes jokes like that about himself. And while Trump’s base may laud “Empress Melania”, her stunning good looks, and her submission to her husband, none of that makes her safe from him or his well-documented rage.

Don’t think this is just a private matter between husband and wife. Humiliating those closest to him gives Trump the energy to screw this country. Abuse makes him feel like a king. Not just Melania’s king anymore. Our king.

So don’t trash Melania just to get to Trump. He already tells her she’s trash every day.

If you don’t have the energy to go to bat for Melania, I respect that. There are many underprivileged victims of abuse in this country who need our support. I believe that we can support them without kicking a woman who, in one way or another, gets kicked every day, fancy clothes and shoes be damned.

Attack Melania’s birtherism. Criticize the fact that she hung journalist Julia Ioffe out to dry and didn’t care about the anti-Semitic attacks that followed. But please don’t talk about how she “deserves” her abusive marriage. You’re only empowering Trump when you do that.

For more information about domestic and gender violence: https://www.sanctuaryforfamilies.org/

 

[post_title] => Think Melania 'deserves what she gets'? Guess what, you’re helping Trump [post_excerpt] => Don’t trash Melania just to get to Trump. He already tells her she’s trash every day. [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => open [ping_status] => open [post_password] => [post_name] => think-melania-deserves-what-she-gets-guess-what-youre-helping-trump-2 [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2024-08-28 21:14:03 [post_modified_gmt] => 2024-08-28 21:14:03 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://conversationalist.org/?p=378 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw )

Think Melania ‘deserves what she gets’? Guess what, you’re helping Trump