THE REVOLUTION WILL NOT BE CHOREOGRAPHED

SATURDAY, DEC 3rd

Doors open at 9pm, Show Starts at 10pm, Dancing until 2am!

The Pinhook, 117 W Main St, Durham, NC
We all know the crisis is raging, but why aren’t you? Dress to sweat off your capitalist blues, and join FIST in occupying the dance floor for a night of rock and hip hop. We’re raising funds the fun way for the court costs of some young comrades who have been arrested fighting for education, against the banks and for immigrant rights in NC and beyond.

Winter’s got us all worked up, exams coming your way, and occupying your city or school is cold and hard — warm up on the dance floor with our amazing list of boogy-enducing DJ’s & music acts:

TripKnight
Lucky Strikes
And DJ Yammy !

$5 (21+)/$7 (under 21) admission
this is a fundraiser for FIST! be as generous as you can

check check check us out — http://raleighfist.wordpress.com/ & http://thepinhook.com/

‘Shut it down!’ Oakland, Nov. 2. WW photo: Bill Bowers

The call by Occupy Oakland for a general strike on Nov. 2 came after police from agencies across Alameda County brutally assaulted people trying to return to their encampment on Oct. 25 at Frank Ogawa Plaza (renamed Oscar Grant Plaza) after police had ousted them and ransacked their belongings.

Videos show what resembled a war zone as police attacked demonstrators with pepper gas, “flash-bang” grenades and disabling projectiles. A 24-year-old Marine veteran, Scott Olsen, was severely injured when a projectile launched by police hit him in the face. Dozens of people were arrested and injured and more than 500 cops from 12 different police agencies were involved.

The call for a general strike on Nov. 2 was a bold move.

The attempt to crack down on the occupation in Oakland was not an isolated event. Similar actions by police have occurred in Washington state, Denver, Atlanta and elsewhere.

Each time the state has stepped in, the movement has grown larger and attracted more attention. Its primary target, as evidenced by Occupy Wall Street, has been the banks and financial institutions and the wealthy. Each attack has made it ever clearer that the fundamental function of the state apparatus is to protect the interests of the ruling elite.

The Oakland General Strike came at this juncture.

Even four months earlier, it would have seemed impossible to launch a large action in a week’s time. When the South Central Federation of Labor in Wisconsin, which represented 45,000 workers, endorsed a call for a general strike last winter in response to Gov. Scott Walker’s bill to curtail collective bargaining, labor, progressives and revolutionaries held their collective breath. A tremendous uprising was underway in Wisconsin, but labor leaders did not heed the call.

But in Oakland, the occupation movement, spurred by the police attack and the lies emanating from city politicians, wasted no time. The proposal for a general strike, made by Marxist and cultural artist Boots Riley of the rap group The Coup, was supported by more than 90 percent of the General Assembly in Oakland. Support poured in from around the country. A national call was put out by Bayan USA, Bail Out the People Movement, and other groups and individuals.

Day of the strike

This writer was able to participate in the general strike action. The call was ultimately supported by the Oakland Education Association, California Nurses Association, members of International Longshore and Warehouse Union Local 10, Service Employees Local 1021, United Auto Workers Local 2865, United Brotherhood of Carpenters Local 713, who voted to go on strike, and the marine division of the ILWU, the Inlandboatmen’s Union.

City workers were allowed to take the day off.

Starting at 9 a.m. people began amassing at Oscar Grant Plaza and from there marched to downtown banks. They forced Wells Fargo, Bank of America and Chase to close. Young people tied a banner that read “Death to Capitalism” between two lamp poles.

No police were in sight. Though police agencies across Alameda County were put on alert and fully mobilized, they were not a visual presence as young people took streets, sealed off bank doors with caution tape, taped eviction posters to their doors and banged on the windows while chanting.

The noise was deafening. It is estimated that at least 50,000 people took part in numerous protests that wound through the streets of downtown Oakland. The activists directed traffic and ultimately ended up at the port of Oakland — the fifth-busiest port in the country. Earlier, a march explicitly against capitalism included as many as 5,000 students, children, teachers and homeless in a multinational crowd.

The march to the port began to assemble at 4 p.m. Several busloads of people were also driven the two-plus miles to the port. Earlier in the day, the port operated at 50 percent capacity, with at least one-third of the jobs unclaimed. Because many high-skilled positions weren’t filled, whole crews were idled.

Three groups of marchers left from downtown Oakland between 4:30 p.m. and 6 p.m. Still there was no visible police presence other than helicopters. It was later revealed that there were plainclothes police in the crowd, but no cruisers or uniform cops on motorcycles, bikes, horses or foot could be seen.

As the march neared the docks, it became clear how large it was. Tens of thousands were participating to stop the unloading and loading of ships by the night shift.

No trucks were allowed to leave. Barricades were erected and protesters blocked trucks with their bodies, asking the drivers for solidarity. In every case the trucks turned back.

Protesters blocked every gate and waited until nightfall, when an arbitrator was supposed to come and determine whether or not the workers could “safely” cross the picket lines at each gate. The thousands who marched on the port remained, sitting on cold concrete or standing, talking politics, getting acquainted with one another. The mood was electric.

ILWU Local 10 has a history of dynamic action, going back to one of its founders and leaders, Harry Bridges, who helped lead the San Francisco General Strike of 1934 that ended with all the ports on the West Coast being unionized. ILWU Local 10 has led solidarity actions against the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, against apartheid in South Africa and in solidarity with the Palestinian struggle. ILWU Local 21 is currently leading a valiant effort against EGT grain terminal in Longview, Wash.

Demonstrators waited as the start of the shift was moved from 7 p.m. to 8 p.m. Finally, word of the shift being canceled was greeted by cheers. The marching band that had participated in all the day’s actions continued to play, energizing the crowd.

Marchers began leaving the port, stopping to talk to people at the barricades. It was under an overpass, just off the docks, that the first police cars were spotted: rows of them from Oakland, California Highway Patrol and other agencies.

Some people remained to make sure no trucks left to deliver their cargo. Later in the evening a group of a few hundred tried to take over a building and were met with police violence. Again, a thick cloud of pepper gas wafted over downtown as cops battled the protesters who had chosen a more confrontational action.

The day was a success and has inspired other calls for general strikes around the country.

Consciousness is indeed deepening. The crisis is not going away.

Now is a time for boldness and action. The Oakland General Strike proves that much is possible and can be achieved.

This is a time when revolutionary ideology is needed more than ever. The fundamental contradiction is between the oppressed and working class, on the one hand, and the ruling wealthy class and their system, on the other. The only way to end the increasing misery is to do away with this capitalist system and build socialism.

By Lamont Lilly
Occupy Wall Street, N.Y.

The scene was a perfect storm of organized chaos. Here were the young and old, students and workers, immigrants and oppressed, all addressing the failures of capitalism’s current worldwide crisis, outlining the destructive forces of global banking systems and highlighting the lack of communal values in a place that loves to cry patriotism.

Right-wing, conservative press would have you to believe that the only “fanatics” there were Ivy League, white, college kids — the privileged and idle-minded, or simply a cadre of recent graduates who have yet to find jobs after completing master’s degrees. But that wasn’t true at all. The idea of occupying Wall Street may have begun as a young, white thing, but by the time we arrived on the evening of Oct.8, there were participants of all nations, all races and all ages — raising a range of pertinent issues.

There were Haitians from the Bronx who had marched across the George Washington Bridge earlier that day in a show of solidarity. There were domestic and sanitation workers from Queens. There were the unions and labor organizations from all over the country — working-class adults who currently live the effects of capitalism from the front lines; blue-collar folks whose wages have been decimated by the manipulation of global markets, international corporatism and “Third World” exploitation. For this one night, I was living what democracy really looks like: the common masses united in a single front.

Creatively illustrated cardboard was everywhere. Homemade signs and justice banners waited on deck for live action. While some were large and others were small, all were quite grand in stature, bearing sharp demands and philosophical ideals such as “Books not Bombs” and “Stop the War on the Poor.” It was a true Who’s Who of change slogans. There were also posters of Troy Davis and Mumia Abu-Jamal. However, nearly everyone possessed an anti-capitalist placard of some sort. The LGBTQ community was also in full-effect, but that was merely the surface.

There, within this tightly restricted park-ground, was everything a revolutionary would need for a couple of months; that is, aside from a public restroom. There were mass water dispensers and community chow lines, a first aid station equipped with medics, and an immense library for learning and entertainment. There were sleeping bags, tents and thinly padded nap mats for rest and relaxation. There was art and music, love and hope. There was one common cause and one loud voice: The People. No lobbyists or politicians were allowed. No bureaucrats or corporate bourgeoisie were welcomed.

Sure, to some it was a festival. While walking around attempting to find a place to post my belongings, I ran across what appeared to be an old makeshift reggae band — four middle-aged white men with golden-locked hair and long beards, sitting on the ground with their guitars, fumbling through Bob Marley’s, “Redemption Song.” I jumped in, considering they only knew half the words to one of my personal favorites. There I was, howling to the top of my lungs with four strangers. We were 30 yards from the Occupy Wall Street drummers.

However, on the north end there were serious politics being discussed. I was completely awed by their covert development of order and social structure. Formally entitled The General Assembly, there were 500 or so people tightly interwoven in a scattered circle, Indian style. There were no microphones. Yet, all could be heard via the systematic rippling effect where each phrase was repeated backwards, twice. There was no President or Speaker of the House to go through in order to be heard — no political red tape to be understood. Here, any man, woman or child who wanted to address the masses was permitted to do so by simply waiting behind “the podium,” (a small group of steep, opal-shaped steps perpendicular from the street).

During the Assembly, it was clear that a wide array of interests were there in attendance. However, I don’t recall one time there being any certain individual or targeted companies mentioned. It wasn’t about hate or animosity, at least not that particular night. It encompassed more of a rallying of sociopolitical thought, a brewing of further direction — a galvanization based on commonality and mutual strands of oppression. Spirits were high and emotions were free. For those who’ve grown up in the Black Church, it was the embodiment of a Pentecostal Worship Service, a Holy Ghost hour, primarily reserved for human rights activists, anti-capitalists and concerned citizens at-large. Of course Dr. King would have supported the Occupy Movement. These were some of the same issues Dr. King advocated for through his Poor People’s Campaign in the spring of 1968 — through his efforts with the sanitation workers in Memphis, Tenn.

Purpose and the point

What the general public or your casual Fox News consumer has failed to understand is the power of struggle and its catalytic ability to unite the oppressed and disenfranchised. These whirlwinds of local protests sprouting across the country aren’t simply about disproportionate tax benefits, financial inequality and corporate greed. It’s far bigger than just the “rich and poor.” The complexities of the issues are much more intertwined than that. This is about the mismanagement of human capital — the manipulation of the common masses worldwide. This is about the audacity of the “haves” who obviously don’t give a damn, who could care less whether your home was foreclosed last year or not, or whether your daughter had a decent meal at her public school today. The 1 percent aren’t concerned with racism, sexism and homophobia. Worker’s rights don’t affect them. Social class is nonexistent from the elite’s perspective. Homeless veterans are “no such thing,” while universal health care is considered a “waste of money.” But really, what else should we expect from a socioeconomic system that breeds such chiseled individualism? It’s me, me, me, with an emphasis on “I.”

However, there’s something uniquely rugged about this generation. We were the “Crack Babies,” the children of Ronald Reagan. Growing up in the 1980s, we witnessed firsthand how greed drives poverty, and in turn, how poverty perpetuates crime. We understand fully that within our current social fabric, someone’s always going to lose. We are the Prison Industrial Complex! And we’re the same ones who keep being told educational funds have run dry. Yet, we operate under the guise of a government that somehow finds scores of resources for military occupations.

This isn’t about demands, folks. The Occupy phenomenon is really about the People reclaiming our own destiny, producing our own change from the ground up. “Occupying” is about the connection of all oppressed people. Ultimately, what we desire is something better than the flesh-eating machine we’ve been feeding since Reaganomics. It’s been eating us from the inside out for three decades now, patiently preying upon the same proletariat and underclass that helped to build and stabilize it.

Some have deemed the Occupy Movement, a leaderless struggle, but that’s the whole point. We’re all leaders and should be respected as such — not lied to, cheated on and outright deceived by state-sponsored pimps swindling billions from the few crumbs we do have. Well, “We the People” have decided it’s time to represent ourselves, whether it’s Raleigh or Wall Street. We’re tired of being wage slaves. We’re tired of our jobs skipping town for open borders and vast NAFTA experiments. We’re also tired of a justice system that bears no resemblance to justice, at least not from Oscar Grant’s perspective. Yet, Republicans and Democrats alike wonder why the People are taking to the street. Probably because that’s the one place they never come. Power to the People! Power to the Streets!

By James Wrenn
Rocky Mount, N.C.

A North Carolina Highway Historical Marker recognizing the 1946 tobacco leaf house workers union campaign was unveiled in Rocky Mount by the Phoenix Historical Society on Sept. 3. The United Electrical Workers union, Local 150 co-sponsored the event.

Entitled “Operation Dixie,” the marker stands on N. Franklin Street at the corner of McDonald Street, across from the Imperial Centre, and denotes the China American Tobacco Company plant on N. Pearl Street, Rocky Mount, N.C., where workers cast the first pro-union vote in the campaign on Sept. 5, 1946.

Most African-American workers cast their first vote ever in this union election, since racist Jim Crow laws denied voting rights to Black people in North Carolina. This leaf house union campaign in 1946 is considered a precursor to the civil rights movement.

More than 90 people gathered at the Imperial Centre to hear remarks from Duke University historian Robert Korstad (author of “Civil Rights Unionism”), UE Local 150 Vice President Larsene Taylor and N.C. AFL-CIO President James Andrews. Rocky Mount City Councilman Reuben Blackwell read a moving resolution from the City Council honoring the courage of the tobacco workers of 1946.

Retired Wilson tobacco union worker Dorothy Edwards gave tribute to the pioneers of 1946 who paved the way for workers’ rights and civil rights in eastern North Carolina. The highlight of the day was 94-year-old Cora Baines Tann, who was a worker at China American and joined the FTA-CIO union in that historic 1946 vote. She and James Andrews had the honor of unveiling the marker.

Leaf house workers, who were 100-percent African-American and 75-percent women, stemmed and processed tobacco in miserable working conditions with low pay and 12-hour shifts under often abusive white male supervisors in factories across eastern North Carolina. These workers were at the base of a very profitable tobacco and cigarette industry.

In the summer and fall of 1946, nearly 10,000 leaf house workers joined unions in a massive organizing campaign called “Operation Dixie” with the Food, Tobacco, Agricultural & Allied Workers of America, and also the Tobacco Workers International Union.

The first pro-union vote by Chinese-American workers was followed by 26 more pro-union votes in the next two months in the North Carolina towns of Oxford, Henderson, Rocky Mount, Greenville, Wilson, Smithfield, Goldsboro, Kinston and Lumberton, and South Boston, Va. Workers secured union contracts in over 30 tobacco plants that resulted in higher pay, eight-hour workdays, paid holidays, improved working conditions and grievance procedures to address abusive supervisors. Today, only two tobacco union locals remain.

The Phoenix Society will present a lunchtime “History a la carte” program on Operation Dixie at the North Carolina Museum of History on Wednesday, Feb. 8, 2012, at noon.