Category: CounterPunch+

  • In the West, citizens have for years been given the impression that ‘jihad’ is spreading like a ‘contagion‘ n the Maghreb and sub-Saharan Africa. News editors in London and New York know that adding the magical letters I and S to a story gives it instant wings. Pentagon analysts’ dire warnings about the ‘risks of More

    The post Fighting the Wrong Enemy in Africa appeared first on CounterPunch.org.


    This content originally appeared on CounterPunch.org and was authored by John Clamp.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • The post What is Black Anarchism? appeared first on CounterPunch.org.


    This content originally appeared on CounterPunch.org and was authored by Josh Frank.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • “Nowadays, anyone who wishes to combat lies and ignorance and to write the truth must overcome at least five difficulties. He must have the courage to write the truth when truth is everywhere opposed; the keenness to recognize it, although it is everywhere concealed; the skill to manipulate it as a weapon; the judgment to select those in whose hands it will be More

    The post Liberal Complicity: On Not asking the Right Questions appeared first on CounterPunch.org.


    This content originally appeared on CounterPunch.org and was authored by Thomas Stephens.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • In a recent May 29 Bend Bulletin article, Senator Merkley asserted he “wants to boost spending on forest management by $1 billion annually through work, such as thinning and prescribed burning, to reduce the prospects of catastrophic wildfires.” An unexamined assumption is that thinning/logging work significantly reduces the pejoratively named “catastrophic” fires. Despite assertions from More

    The post What Jeff Merkley Gets Wrong About Forests and Fire appeared first on CounterPunch.org.


    This content originally appeared on CounterPunch.org and was authored by George Wuerthner.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • Image by Unseen Histories.

    Upon passage of HB 87 Texas will require students to read Jefferson’s 1802 letter to the Danbury Baptists in which the third President states the principle of the separation of church and state and proclaims “the legitimate powers of government reach actions only, & not opinions”. At the same time this law prohibits teachers from telling students that “slavery and racism are anything other than deviations from, betrayals of, or failures to live up to, the authentic founding principles of the United States”. Such head-spinning duplicity could be explained glibly by wondering if Texas Republicans ever read Jefferson’s missive to the Baptists. But much more is revealed by taking this and other similar bills moving through state legislatures throughout Red America as deliberate and serious expressions of modern conservatism.

    Texas’ bill, and similar GOP legislation elsewhere, began as a knee-jerk reaction to the popularity among educators of the New York Times’ 1619 Project and right-wing media click-bait stories of the horrors of multicultural workshops and diversity training. Conservatives have lumped all these approaches to analyzing the dynamics of racism under the umbrella of “Critical Race Theory” (CRT) which Idaho has legally condemned for “inflame[ing] divisions on the basis of sex, race, ethnicity, religion, color, national origin, or other criteria in ways contrary to the unity of the nation”. When the legislative template for these bills was crafted it came to reflect certain novel aspects of the conservative mind as it has been shaped by evangelicalism, Newt Gingrich, the Tea Party, Fox News, Trump, and Q-anon.

    Texas’ HB 87 declares that the purpose of social studies education is to “develop each student ’s civic knowledge” of “the fundamental moral, political, and intellectual foundations of the American experiment”. The key word here is “the”, as in “the fundamental moral, political, and intellectual foundations”, strongly implying that there was some unity, some sort of consensus about moral and political principles at the founding. To view American society in 1776 as having anything approaching agreement about what constituted morality or the proper basis of government requires ignoring the deep factional fights within patriot ranks that eventually festered into America’s first party system, the many dissenting religious groups, and the views of the one in five Americans who were legally property. Lurking in this idea of “civic knowledge” is a mandate to consider only land-owning whites as constituting “the American experiment”.

    To read this article, log in or or Subscribe

    More

    The post Inside the Attacks on Critical Race Theory appeared first on CounterPunch.org.


    This content originally appeared on CounterPunch.org and was authored by Timothy Messer-Kruse.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • Gaza under attack stories; war 2021

    Image by Dan Meyers.

    Aya’s Story

    My name is Aya al-Louh. I live in Gaza City and I am a cancer patient. I have a brother, Mahmoud, 26 years old, with special needs. He is unable to leave the house due to the constant bombing and we are trying to integrate him with us so that he is not affected by the continuous missile strikes. He cannot sleep, not even during the day. Every moment he suffers from Psychiatric disorders, we uselessly try to control it, once he hears the sound of explosions.

    To read this article, log in or or Subscribe

    More

    The post Stories from Cancer Patients in Gaza appeared first on CounterPunch.org.

    This post was originally published on CounterPunch.org.

  • Image by Josh Carter.

    Not to return. Earth’s the right place for love:

    I don’t know where it’s likely to go better.

    -Robert Frost, “Birches” (1916)

    Suzanne Simard is a professor in the Faculty of Forestry at the University of British Columbia. She conducts research in a number of related ecological areas, including forest ecology, plant-soil microbial interactions, plant-plant interactions, ectomycorrhizae, and mycorrhizal networks.

    In her new book, Finding the Mother Tree, she describes them, thusly:

    [between trees] “both neural networks and mycorrhizal networks transmit information molecules across synapses …The mycorrhizal networks could have the signature of intelligence. At the hub of the neural network in the forest were the Mother Trees, as central to the lives of the smaller trees as I was to [my young daughters]. ‘

    She’s a leader in The Mother Tree Project, a “guiding principle of retaining Mother Trees and maintaining connections within forests to keep them regenerative, especially as the climate changes.” She grew up in British Columbia’s rain forests. She comes from a family of lumberjacks, but after a first job out of college working for a clear-cut lumber company and was appalled at the lack of personal indifference to the environment being cleared.

    This interview was conducted on May 26, 2021.

    To read this article, log in or or Subscribe

    More

    The post Finding the Mother Tree appeared first on CounterPunch.org.

    This post was originally published on CounterPunch.org.

  • Talk about Palestine, and inevitably you will come up against the persistent fallacy of its “self-defeating” tendency to embrace “violence”. This uninformed and implicitly racist assessment of Palestine’s history, its people, and their struggle, is just as often proffered by those claiming some degree of sympathy for their plight, as it is enshrined into hard […]

    To read this article, log in or or Subscribe

    More

    The post “Both Sides Are to Blame” appeared first on CounterPunch.org.


    This content originally appeared on CounterPunch.org and was authored by Jennifer Matsui.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • On June 18, 2019, then-candidate Joe Biden appeared on the campaign trail at a posh fundraiser on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. He remarked to about a hundred prospective wealthy donors that if elected, “nothing will fundamentally change.” In the context of the quote, Biden was referencing their pocketbooks and stock portfolios under his leadership. As […]

    To read this article, log in or or Subscribe

    More

    The post Business As Usual On Biden’s Border appeared first on CounterPunch.org.


    This content originally appeared on CounterPunch.org and was authored by Jack Delaney.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • Crowned with bird dung, a 7.2-meter-tall bronze Columbus towers over Barcelona atop a 40-meter Corinthian column, symbolically pointing to both the Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean. The statue was constructed for the 1888 World’s Fair. Just ten years before Spain lost its colonies in Cuba and Puerto Rico following the Spanish-American War, it was […]

    To read this article, log in or or Subscribe

    More

    The post Monumentalizing Iniquity appeared first on CounterPunch.org.


    This content originally appeared on CounterPunch.org and was authored by Daniel Raventos – Julie Wark.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • With an impeccable sense of timing, a 40-year-old documentary is felicitously being re-released and is far more relevant – and urgent – now than when it first aired on German TV and PBS in 1981, as an actor became US president. Writer/director/producer Wieland Schulz-Keil’s New Deal for Artists is a refreshing reminder of when state […]

    To read this article, log in or or Subscribe

    More

    The post Do We Need a New Deal for Artists Today? appeared first on CounterPunch.org.

    This post was originally published on CounterPunch.org.

  • India, the pharmacy of the world is currently facing a devastating second wave of the COVID pandemic. With a surge in infections crossing the 400,000 mark on a daily basis, the population of over a billion people were pinning its hopes on the ongoing vaccination drive. This, as the world’s largest vaccine manufacturer, is staring More

    The post Inside India’s Vaccine Divide appeared first on CounterPunch.org.


    This content originally appeared on CounterPunch.org and was authored by Sumedha Pal.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • India, the pharmacy of the world is currently facing a devastating second wave of the COVID pandemic. With a surge in infections crossing the 400,000 mark on a daily basis, the population of over a billion people were pinning its hopes on the ongoing vaccination drive. This, as the world’s largest vaccine manufacturer, is staring More

    The post Inside India’s Vaccine Divide appeared first on CounterPunch.org.

    This post was originally published on CounterPunch.org.

  • For anyone disturbed by the number of U.S. military bases abroad, roughly 800, it comes as little solace to learn that this high concentration of military outposts has a long genealogy, one that stretches back to the first days of the republic. Because back then we had forts, bristling with guns and soldiers, on other More

    The post War and More War appeared first on CounterPunch.org.

    This post was originally published on CounterPunch.org.

  • For anyone disturbed by the number of U.S. military bases abroad, roughly 800, it comes as little solace to learn that this high concentration of military outposts has a long genealogy, one that stretches back to the first days of the republic. Because back then we had forts, bristling with guns and soldiers, on other More

    The post War and More War appeared first on CounterPunch.org.

    This post was originally published on CounterPunch.org.

  • Image by Mufid Majnun.

    Under the rightwing presidency of Jair Bolsonaro, Brazilians are once again witnessing intimidation tactics against anyone who speaks out against his government. Bolsonaro and his administration have attacked the press, specific journalists, a Supreme Court justice, opposition leaders, the health and science institution FIOCRUZ, and many others. This disturbing trend has just targeted two indigenous leaders. However, this latest strategy failed.

    Brazil’s Federal Police agency subpoenaed Sônia Guajajara, the executive coordinator for the Articulation Indigenous Peoples of Brazil (APIB) on April 26 to respond to charges of slander as well as the dissemination of fake news. These accusations are the result of her appearance in a 2020 eight-part web documentary series called Maracá. In it, Guajajara, along with dozens of other natives, activists, artists, and academics denounced numerous health protocol violations committed against indigenous communities by drawing links between Brazil’s 521 years of genocidal history to the current COVID-19 pandemic.

    “I was intimidated by the federal police, as a representative of @apiboficial to testify in an inquiry about the Maracá web series,” Guajajara shared on Twitter on April 30, about the police action. “The persecution from this government is unacceptable and absurd! They won’t silence us!” she added. Guajajara was a Socialism and Liberty Party candidate during the 2018 Presidential elections and has been a fierce critic of Bolsonaro and his administration’s indigenous and environmental policies, and its handling of the pandemic.

    Brazil’s federal police also summoned Almir Narayamoga Suruí, an indigenous Chief of the Paiter Suruí peoples, over allegations of defamation against Bolsonaro’s government. The National Indigenous Foundation (FUNAI), the Brazilian government agency created in 1967 under the Ministry of Justice to protect Indigenous peoples’ rights, filed both charges in mid-March.

    After Guajajara’s tweet, dozens of politicians, organizations, and allies of indigenous communities expressed outrage over the government’s strategy. Former President Luis Inácio ‘Lula’ da Silva tweeted, “It is the government of lies chasing and trying to intimidate those who denounce the truth. They won’t win. My solidarity, @GuajajaraSonia.” Former Green Party Presidential Candidate, Mariana da Silva also expressed indignation by writing, “Once again I register my repudiation of the arbitrary and intimidating acts of the Bolsonaro government. My solidarity with @GuajajaraSonia and @narayamoga.”

    APIB also released a statement denouncing the act as political and racist persecution to “criminalize the indigenous movement, intimidate [APIB], our network of grassroots organizations, and the leadership of Sônia Guajajara.”

    With the overwhelming attention and counter lawsuits, a federal judge suspended the police probe into Guajajara on May 5 citing no indication of a crime being committed. And on May 6, the federal police decided to archive Almir Suruí’s case.

    Celebrating these favorable decisions, Guajajara shared a video on social media thanking for all the support given to the indigenous movement and APIB that were targeted for resisting “against the constant violations of [our] rights and neglect by the Federal Government.”

    Here is the background of how these two cases unfolded.

    During an episode of the series Maracá called Healing Plan, Guajajara is heard speaking during a United Nations meeting in New York on April 2019 explaining how Brazil’s indigenous peoples honed the craft of resistance:

    “…with the European caravels arrived swords and greed and the idea that we were not masters of our own lands and lives. Despite the genocide over these five hundred years, we have managed to reach the 21st century.” She added, “During this period, many of us were enslaved, hundreds of people were decimated, and several cultures extinguished. The Europeans treated us as merchandise, or as a major obstacle to their idea of progress. We resisted the colonial period. We resisted the empire. We resisted even the military dictatorship [1964-1985], which killed more than 8,000 indigenous people.”

    Last year, APIB released Maracá as part of an international campaign to save indigenous lives and to highlight Bolsonaro’s mismanagement of the pandemic. The organization submitted the same complaints last August to Brazil’s Supreme Federal Court, which ruled in favor of the indigenous groups, and determined that the federal government must implement measures to contain the spread of the virus in indigenous communities. APIB is a grassroots organization that represents some 300 indigenous ethnic groups in Brazil. It was founded in 2005 with the mission to unify interests, strengthen communities, and advocate for indigenous rights.

    In March FUNAI sent a slander complaint against Guajajara and Almir Suruí to the federal police, and on April 26, a federal agent contacted her to respond to the charges.

    Following Guajajara probe, the federal police also questioned Almir Suruí on April 30. He was similarly being charged with defamation for seeking financial help to fight the pandemic during a virtual campaign from September 2020 called “Forest Peoples against COVID-19.”

    “We are always saying that the government has not dealt with indigenous issues in a respectful way, [especially] when it comes to indigenous policy and land management. But this is not defamation,” he told columnist Rubens Valente. “They want us to back off, but we are going to continue fighting,” he added.

    Then a federal agent called Almir’s nephew, Rubens Suruí about the virtual campaign. “I was surprised,” Rubens told the columnist. “The action was to collect funds to help the Paiter Suruí peoples to stay on their land during the pandemic and not have to go to the cities and get contaminated. [It was also used] to buy cleaning products and food,” he explained.

    Ramirez Andrade, the lawyer representing the Paiter Suruí peoples, told Valente that the interrogation of both men by the federal police via the popular texting software, “WhatsApp” was not a standard procedure. “This is an unprecedented, unusual situation,” the lawyer said. He added, “the strange thing is to investigate a relief campaign and use it to say that, when asking for help, the indigenous people would be defaming the government.”

    On May 6, the federal police announced they had stopped investigating Almir.

    Although the Brazilian native rights’ movement succeeded on these two cases, activists have refused to acquiesce. That’s because Bolsonaro and his administration are still targeting their critics and they remain in charge of the COVID crisis in Brazil, which has had devastating impacts on indigenous communities.

    Handling of the Pandemic

    The indigenous leaders’ characterization of Bolsonaro’s mishandling of the pandemic is not an exaggeration. On April 12, 2021, Brazil’s Senate opened a Parliamentary Committee Inquiry (CPI) to investigate “actions and omissions by the federal government in facing the pandemic and the collapse of the healthcare system” across the country. With the ongoing inquiry, indigenous communities also want to be heard. They are seeking ways to expose how their people have been treated during the pandemic and the lack of the federal government’s response to combat the virus from reaching their lands.

    On April 30, Joênia Wapichana, the first indigenous Congresswoman elected to office, presented data and complaints from indigenous organizations during a Senate public hearing. At the meeting she requested that the CPI called upon others to testify, including authorities responsible for the implementation of local and national indigenous healthcare protocols, indigenous leaders, and victims’ family members. In her view this administration committed “gross mistakes, omission, denialism and even prejudice” against indigenous communities and needs to be scrutinized.

    “It got to a point when I didn’t want to look at my cell phone due to sadness [because] there were messages about indigenous deaths and reports that many were dying due to lack of drugs for intubation,” Wapichana commented at the hearing.

    According to APIB’s epidemiological bulletin as of May 7, more than 53,641 cases and 1,063 deaths have been confirmed amongst indigenous communities. Brazil has about 850,000 indigenous peoples, representing a .4% of the country’s population.

    The Congresswoman also handed over other complaints to Senators, which include the lack of access to clean water and adequate sanitary conditions at an indigenous shelter; an increase of illegal mining in indigenous lands during the pandemic; accounts that a health employee was selling COVID-vaccines to miners for gold instead of inoculating indigenous communities; low vaccination rates due to ‘fake news’ disseminated by President Bolsonaro and religious groups; lack of intensive care units and oxygen; and the militarization of indigenous healthcare’s management, which prescribed the use of the drug hydroxychloroquine to treat infected indigenous people.

    Although the allegation about the military’s distribution of the hydroxychloroquine drug to indigenous communities is being discussed at the CPI, as of today, indigenous peoples have not been invited to testify about it or how the pandemic crisis has affected them. And despite these two victories, Bolsonaro’s critics see these latest police charges as yet another tactic to censor and intimidate them and expect to be targeted again.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • Image by Mufid Majnun.

    Under the rightwing presidency of Jair Bolsonaro, Brazilians are once again witnessing intimidation tactics against anyone who speaks out against his government. Bolsonaro and his administration have attacked the press, specific journalists, a Supreme Court justice, opposition leaders, the health and science institution FIOCRUZ, and many others. This disturbing trend has just targeted two indigenous leaders. However, this latest strategy failed.

    Brazil’s Federal Police agency subpoenaed Sônia Guajajara, the executive coordinator for the Articulation Indigenous Peoples of Brazil (APIB) on April 26 to respond to charges of slander as well as the dissemination of fake news. These accusations are the result of her appearance in a 2020 eight-part web documentary series called Maracá. In it, Guajajara, along with dozens of other natives, activists, artists, and academics denounced numerous health protocol violations committed against indigenous communities by drawing links between Brazil’s 521 years of genocidal history to the current COVID-19 pandemic.

    “I was intimidated by the federal police, as a representative of @apiboficial to testify in an inquiry about the Maracá web series,” Guajajara shared on Twitter on April 30, about the police action. “The persecution from this government is unacceptable and absurd! They won’t silence us!” she added. Guajajara was a Socialism and Liberty Party candidate during the 2018 Presidential elections and has been a fierce critic of Bolsonaro and his administration’s indigenous and environmental policies, and its handling of the pandemic.

    Brazil’s federal police also summoned Almir Narayamoga Suruí, an indigenous Chief of the Paiter Suruí peoples, over allegations of defamation against Bolsonaro’s government. The National Indigenous Foundation (FUNAI), the Brazilian government agency created in 1967 under the Ministry of Justice to protect Indigenous peoples’ rights, filed both charges in mid-March.

    After Guajajara’s tweet, dozens of politicians, organizations, and allies of indigenous communities expressed outrage over the government’s strategy. Former President Luis Inácio ‘Lula’ da Silva tweeted, “It is the government of lies chasing and trying to intimidate those who denounce the truth. They won’t win. My solidarity, @GuajajaraSonia.” Former Green Party Presidential Candidate, Mariana da Silva also expressed indignation by writing, “Once again I register my repudiation of the arbitrary and intimidating acts of the Bolsonaro government. My solidarity with @GuajajaraSonia and @narayamoga.”

    APIB also released a statement denouncing the act as political and racist persecution to “criminalize the indigenous movement, intimidate [APIB], our network of grassroots organizations, and the leadership of Sônia Guajajara.”

    With the overwhelming attention and counter lawsuits, a federal judge suspended the police probe into Guajajara on May 5 citing no indication of a crime being committed. And on May 6, the federal police decided to archive Almir Suruí’s case.

    Celebrating these favorable decisions, Guajajara shared a video on social media thanking for all the support given to the indigenous movement and APIB that were targeted for resisting “against the constant violations of [our] rights and neglect by the Federal Government.”

    Here is the background of how these two cases unfolded.

    During an episode of the series Maracá called Healing Plan, Guajajara is heard speaking during a United Nations meeting in New York on April 2019 explaining how Brazil’s indigenous peoples honed the craft of resistance:

    “…with the European caravels arrived swords and greed and the idea that we were not masters of our own lands and lives. Despite the genocide over these five hundred years, we have managed to reach the 21st century.” She added, “During this period, many of us were enslaved, hundreds of people were decimated, and several cultures extinguished. The Europeans treated us as merchandise, or as a major obstacle to their idea of progress. We resisted the colonial period. We resisted the empire. We resisted even the military dictatorship [1964-1985], which killed more than 8,000 indigenous people.”

    Last year, APIB released Maracá as part of an international campaign to save indigenous lives and to highlight Bolsonaro’s mismanagement of the pandemic. The organization submitted the same complaints last August to Brazil’s Supreme Federal Court, which ruled in favor of the indigenous groups, and determined that the federal government must implement measures to contain the spread of the virus in indigenous communities. APIB is a grassroots organization that represents some 300 indigenous ethnic groups in Brazil. It was founded in 2005 with the mission to unify interests, strengthen communities, and advocate for indigenous rights.

    In March FUNAI sent a slander complaint against Guajajara and Almir Suruí to the federal police, and on April 26, a federal agent contacted her to respond to the charges.

    Following Guajajara probe, the federal police also questioned Almir Suruí on April 30. He was similarly being charged with defamation for seeking financial help to fight the pandemic during a virtual campaign from September 2020 called “Forest Peoples against COVID-19.”

    “We are always saying that the government has not dealt with indigenous issues in a respectful way, [especially] when it comes to indigenous policy and land management. But this is not defamation,” he told columnist Rubens Valente. “They want us to back off, but we are going to continue fighting,” he added.

    Then a federal agent called Almir’s nephew, Rubens Suruí about the virtual campaign. “I was surprised,” Rubens told the columnist. “The action was to collect funds to help the Paiter Suruí peoples to stay on their land during the pandemic and not have to go to the cities and get contaminated. [It was also used] to buy cleaning products and food,” he explained.

    Ramirez Andrade, the lawyer representing the Paiter Suruí peoples, told Valente that the interrogation of both men by the federal police via the popular texting software, “WhatsApp” was not a standard procedure. “This is an unprecedented, unusual situation,” the lawyer said. He added, “the strange thing is to investigate a relief campaign and use it to say that, when asking for help, the indigenous people would be defaming the government.”

    On May 6, the federal police announced they had stopped investigating Almir.

    Although the Brazilian native rights’ movement succeeded on these two cases, activists have refused to acquiesce. That’s because Bolsonaro and his administration are still targeting their critics and they remain in charge of the COVID crisis in Brazil, which has had devastating impacts on indigenous communities.

    Handling of the Pandemic

    The indigenous leaders’ characterization of Bolsonaro’s mishandling of the pandemic is not an exaggeration. On April 12, 2021, Brazil’s Senate opened a Parliamentary Committee Inquiry (CPI) to investigate “actions and omissions by the federal government in facing the pandemic and the collapse of the healthcare system” across the country. With the ongoing inquiry, indigenous communities also want to be heard. They are seeking ways to expose how their people have been treated during the pandemic and the lack of the federal government’s response to combat the virus from reaching their lands.

    On April 30, Joênia Wapichana, the first indigenous Congresswoman elected to office, presented data and complaints from indigenous organizations during a Senate public hearing. At the meeting she requested that the CPI called upon others to testify, including authorities responsible for the implementation of local and national indigenous healthcare protocols, indigenous leaders, and victims’ family members. In her view this administration committed “gross mistakes, omission, denialism and even prejudice” against indigenous communities and needs to be scrutinized.

    “It got to a point when I didn’t want to look at my cell phone due to sadness [because] there were messages about indigenous deaths and reports that many were dying due to lack of drugs for intubation,” Wapichana commented at the hearing.

    According to APIB’s epidemiological bulletin as of May 7, more than 53,641 cases and 1,063 deaths have been confirmed amongst indigenous communities. Brazil has about 850,000 indigenous peoples, representing a .4% of the country’s population.

    The Congresswoman also handed over other complaints to Senators, which include the lack of access to clean water and adequate sanitary conditions at an indigenous shelter; an increase of illegal mining in indigenous lands during the pandemic; accounts that a health employee was selling COVID-vaccines to miners for gold instead of inoculating indigenous communities; low vaccination rates due to ‘fake news’ disseminated by President Bolsonaro and religious groups; lack of intensive care units and oxygen; and the militarization of indigenous healthcare’s management, which prescribed the use of the drug hydroxychloroquine to treat infected indigenous people.

    Although the allegation about the military’s distribution of the hydroxychloroquine drug to indigenous communities is being discussed at the CPI, as of today, indigenous peoples have not been invited to testify about it or how the pandemic crisis has affected them. And despite these two victories, Bolsonaro’s critics see these latest police charges as yet another tactic to censor and intimidate them and expect to be targeted again.

    The post Bolsonaro’s Administration Attempts to Silence Indigenous Leaders for Criticizing Its Handling of the Pandemic appeared first on CounterPunch.org.

    This post was originally published on CounterPunch.org.

  • Checkpoint Zipolite: Quarantine in a Small Place by Belen Fernandez is impossible to put down. Unlike some other travelogues or memoirs by women (pace Elizabeth Gilbert’s, Eat Pray Love), Belen Fernandez’s candor and self-deprecating humor combined with a deep love and compassion for people and places torn apart by political and social turmoil draws the reader all over the world and yet, reminds one that the author is stuck, like all of us, due to an unforeseen global disaster: Covid-19 and pandemic quarantine. While Mexico was supposed to be quick stop for Fernandez on her way to Istanbul, “March 13-25 (2020) would turn into March 13 until further notice” (7). For this writer-traveler, the idea of being unable to move is a nightmare; Fernandez shares that she is constantly moving, between cities, nations, and continents. Unintentionally, she ends up in the only “official” clothing-optional beach in Mexico named Zipolite, “the beach of death,” known for being home to some of the deadliest waves in the world, and yet, apropos for someone who creates a life of “manic itinerancy” for herself. Zipolite embodies Fernandez’s desires for unpredictable movement, transformation, and beauty. Besides the dangers of the ocean, she deals with scorpions, iguanas, 7.4 magnitude earthquakes and impending tsunamis, and while she defies death by crushing wave, recovers from a bout of illness from typhoid, and lockdown in a tiny village in southern Mexico where a local officials erect a checkpoint in front of her temporary abode, Fernandez finds herself in “coronastalgia … which comprised anguished nostalgia for not only all of the things I already missed and the places I now couldn’t go but also for the present quarantined moment and, if possible, nostalgia itself” (70). Zipolite becomes home, a source of stability and comfort, and yet, the reader is consummately reminded that Fernandez is stuck; her choices and ability to pick up and dash off interrupted without any promises of ending.

    For many of us during this pandemic, our own values, needs, and safety became glaringly apparent. Our entire human connections transformed to the point that some relationships ended while others emerged as responses to our needs. In essence, Covid-19 brings us face to face with our personal AS political lives and Fernandez interrogates the idea of the personal is political in Checkpoint Zipolite: Quarantine in a Small Place. At once a witty, interrogative, and nostalgic memoir, the reader finds an astute and humane documentation of atrocious sites of injustice in impeccable journalistic fashion. Fernandez makes no secret of her disdain of the nation she spent her childhood in, but she also offers bold and righteously damning critiques of many nation-states, always championing the masses and the collective lamentation of freedoms denied all over the world. Her self-awareness about her privileges as a white woman who holds powerful documents that allow her to pursue her needs by leaving and arriving whenever and wherever she wants to grounds the reader in being less critical of her and more empathetic to oneself and by default, others. Fernandez shares that she always felt the need to leave; the desire for movement and a fast-paced life. While globe hopping, Fernandez takes the reader through Lebanon, Morocco, Minnesota/the United States, Palestine, and El Salvador. The checkpoint at her very front door in a small, coastal town meant to control the spread of Covid-19, checkpoints in Gaza, checkpoints at airports, and checkpoints of whiteness intertwine and meld to remind the reader that freedom for some means disaster for many.

    The confinement of people she loves in places throughout the world who experience a lack of agency due to political oppression is a palpable concern in her story. Gaza and Lebanon, but also the United States, her place of birth and childhood, that is the most problematic for her and the one place to which she avoids returning. Fernandez learns of George Floyd’s lynching through the television of a Zipolite family giving her shelter during the aftermath of an earthquake and for readers around the world, we are immediately reminded that justice and peace are eternally elusive for the masses of people without racial, gender, sexual, economic, and other privileges. She never shies away from turning these critiques upon herself; and yet, the reader empathizes with her because in our own ways, we avoid the discomfort of lacking agency to do more for each other. As she says, a sentiment the reader can understand deeply because of quarantine, “there was no longer a surplus of people to throw me into ethical dilemmas” about personal choices of say, yoga clothed or nude, but the political became even more tantamount as Black and brown bodies piled higher and higher because of structural inequities throughout the world.

    Fernandez’s arduous search for her favorite brand of mate, tender attachment to colorful buckets with multiple uses and purposes, and devastation at the departure of random strangers who become stable parts of her quarantined life remind us that we, too, were forced to slow down in our own small places. She repeatedly acknowledges the privileges of her status, but the loss of the life she created and longed for stand out as a reminder to us that we often have more than we need and can (and maybe should?) get by in this post-1492 world with less emphasis on material accumulation and standards of success as defined by whiteness, heteropatriarchy, and capitalism. The reader shares Fernandez’s final musing that “plenty of movement [is] possible while standing still” (75), especially as circumstances beyond our control, such as a global pandemic, force us to contend with the strengths, weaknesses, chaos and calm, and political events that guide and affect our personal lives. For all the shifts in Fernandez’s life, she diligently creates routines, simple activities that ground her including her morning jogs, afternoon wine, and conversations about Zipolite community members and their fight for land rights. While politics often separate us, the human condition bridges the borders: Beirut, San Salvador, Minneapolis, and Zipolite. As Fernandez opines, “Checkpoints can also, then, be instrumental in maintaining sectarian geographies—and the confessionalization of space—by reminding the Other of his or her outsider-ness.”

    The post A Uniquely Mexican Quarantine appeared first on CounterPunch.org.

    This post was originally published on CounterPunch.org.

  • Checkpoint Zipolite: Quarantine in a Small Place by Belen Fernandez is impossible to put down. Unlike some other travelogues or memoirs by women (pace Elizabeth Gilbert’s, Eat Pray Love), Belen Fernandez’s candor and self-deprecating humor combined with a deep love and compassion for people and places torn apart by political and social turmoil draws the reader all over the world and yet, reminds one that the author is stuck, like all of us, due to an unforeseen global disaster: Covid-19 and pandemic quarantine. While Mexico was supposed to be quick stop for Fernandez on her way to Istanbul, “March 13-25 (2020) would turn into March 13 until further notice” (7). For this writer-traveler, the idea of being unable to move is a nightmare; Fernandez shares that she is constantly moving, between cities, nations, and continents. Unintentionally, she ends up in the only “official” clothing-optional beach in Mexico named Zipolite, “the beach of death,” known for being home to some of the deadliest waves in the world, and yet, apropos for someone who creates a life of “manic itinerancy” for herself. Zipolite embodies Fernandez’s desires for unpredictable movement, transformation, and beauty. Besides the dangers of the ocean, she deals with scorpions, iguanas, 7.4 magnitude earthquakes and impending tsunamis, and while she defies death by crushing wave, recovers from a bout of illness from typhoid, and lockdown in a tiny village in southern Mexico where a local officials erect a checkpoint in front of her temporary abode, Fernandez finds herself in “coronastalgia … which comprised anguished nostalgia for not only all of the things I already missed and the places I now couldn’t go but also for the present quarantined moment and, if possible, nostalgia itself” (70). Zipolite becomes home, a source of stability and comfort, and yet, the reader is consummately reminded that Fernandez is stuck; her choices and ability to pick up and dash off interrupted without any promises of ending.

    For many of us during this pandemic, our own values, needs, and safety became glaringly apparent. Our entire human connections transformed to the point that some relationships ended while others emerged as responses to our needs. In essence, Covid-19 brings us face to face with our personal AS political lives and Fernandez interrogates the idea of the personal is political in Checkpoint Zipolite: Quarantine in a Small Place. At once a witty, interrogative, and nostalgic memoir, the reader finds an astute and humane documentation of atrocious sites of injustice in impeccable journalistic fashion. Fernandez makes no secret of her disdain of the nation she spent her childhood in, but she also offers bold and righteously damning critiques of many nation-states, always championing the masses and the collective lamentation of freedoms denied all over the world. Her self-awareness about her privileges as a white woman who holds powerful documents that allow her to pursue her needs by leaving and arriving whenever and wherever she wants to grounds the reader in being less critical of her and more empathetic to oneself and by default, others. Fernandez shares that she always felt the need to leave; the desire for movement and a fast-paced life. While globe hopping, Fernandez takes the reader through Lebanon, Morocco, Minnesota/the United States, Palestine, and El Salvador. The checkpoint at her very front door in a small, coastal town meant to control the spread of Covid-19, checkpoints in Gaza, checkpoints at airports, and checkpoints of whiteness intertwine and meld to remind the reader that freedom for some means disaster for many.

    The confinement of people she loves in places throughout the world who experience a lack of agency due to political oppression is a palpable concern in her story. Gaza and Lebanon, but also the United States, her place of birth and childhood, that is the most problematic for her and the one place to which she avoids returning. Fernandez learns of George Floyd’s lynching through the television of a Zipolite family giving her shelter during the aftermath of an earthquake and for readers around the world, we are immediately reminded that justice and peace are eternally elusive for the masses of people without racial, gender, sexual, economic, and other privileges. She never shies away from turning these critiques upon herself; and yet, the reader empathizes with her because in our own ways, we avoid the discomfort of lacking agency to do more for each other. As she says, a sentiment the reader can understand deeply because of quarantine, “there was no longer a surplus of people to throw me into ethical dilemmas” about personal choices of say, yoga clothed or nude, but the political became even more tantamount as Black and brown bodies piled higher and higher because of structural inequities throughout the world.

    Fernandez’s arduous search for her favorite brand of mate, tender attachment to colorful buckets with multiple uses and purposes, and devastation at the departure of random strangers who become stable parts of her quarantined life remind us that we, too, were forced to slow down in our own small places. She repeatedly acknowledges the privileges of her status, but the loss of the life she created and longed for stand out as a reminder to us that we often have more than we need and can (and maybe should?) get by in this post-1492 world with less emphasis on material accumulation and standards of success as defined by whiteness, heteropatriarchy, and capitalism. The reader shares Fernandez’s final musing that “plenty of movement [is] possible while standing still” (75), especially as circumstances beyond our control, such as a global pandemic, force us to contend with the strengths, weaknesses, chaos and calm, and political events that guide and affect our personal lives. For all the shifts in Fernandez’s life, she diligently creates routines, simple activities that ground her including her morning jogs, afternoon wine, and conversations about Zipolite community members and their fight for land rights. While politics often separate us, the human condition bridges the borders: Beirut, San Salvador, Minneapolis, and Zipolite. As Fernandez opines, “Checkpoints can also, then, be instrumental in maintaining sectarian geographies—and the confessionalization of space—by reminding the Other of his or her outsider-ness.”

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • Checkpoint Zipolite: Quarantine in a Small Place by Belen Fernandez is impossible to put down. Unlike some other travelogues or memoirs by women (pace Elizabeth Gilbert’s, Eat Pray Love), Belen Fernandez’s candor and self-deprecating humor combined with a deep love and compassion for people and places torn apart by political and social turmoil draws the reader all over the world and yet, reminds one that the author is stuck, like all of us, due to an unforeseen global disaster: Covid-19 and pandemic quarantine. While Mexico was supposed to be quick stop for Fernandez on her way to Istanbul, “March 13-25 (2020) would turn into March 13 until further notice” (7). For this writer-traveler, the idea of being unable to move is a nightmare; Fernandez shares that she is constantly moving, between cities, nations, and continents. Unintentionally, she ends up in the only “official” clothing-optional beach in Mexico named Zipolite, “the beach of death,” known for being home to some of the deadliest waves in the world, and yet, apropos for someone who creates a life of “manic itinerancy” for herself. Zipolite embodies Fernandez’s desires for unpredictable movement, transformation, and beauty. Besides the dangers of the ocean, she deals with scorpions, iguanas, 7.4 magnitude earthquakes and impending tsunamis, and while she defies death by crushing wave, recovers from a bout of illness from typhoid, and lockdown in a tiny village in southern Mexico where a local officials erect a checkpoint in front of her temporary abode, Fernandez finds herself in “coronastalgia … which comprised anguished nostalgia for not only all of the things I already missed and the places I now couldn’t go but also for the present quarantined moment and, if possible, nostalgia itself” (70). Zipolite becomes home, a source of stability and comfort, and yet, the reader is consummately reminded that Fernandez is stuck; her choices and ability to pick up and dash off interrupted without any promises of ending.

    For many of us during this pandemic, our own values, needs, and safety became glaringly apparent. Our entire human connections transformed to the point that some relationships ended while others emerged as responses to our needs. In essence, Covid-19 brings us face to face with our personal AS political lives and Fernandez interrogates the idea of the personal is political in Checkpoint Zipolite: Quarantine in a Small Place. At once a witty, interrogative, and nostalgic memoir, the reader finds an astute and humane documentation of atrocious sites of injustice in impeccable journalistic fashion. Fernandez makes no secret of her disdain of the nation she spent her childhood in, but she also offers bold and righteously damning critiques of many nation-states, always championing the masses and the collective lamentation of freedoms denied all over the world. Her self-awareness about her privileges as a white woman who holds powerful documents that allow her to pursue her needs by leaving and arriving whenever and wherever she wants to grounds the reader in being less critical of her and more empathetic to oneself and by default, others. Fernandez shares that she always felt the need to leave; the desire for movement and a fast-paced life. While globe hopping, Fernandez takes the reader through Lebanon, Morocco, Minnesota/the United States, Palestine, and El Salvador. The checkpoint at her very front door in a small, coastal town meant to control the spread of Covid-19, checkpoints in Gaza, checkpoints at airports, and checkpoints of whiteness intertwine and meld to remind the reader that freedom for some means disaster for many.

    The confinement of people she loves in places throughout the world who experience a lack of agency due to political oppression is a palpable concern in her story. Gaza and Lebanon, but also the United States, her place of birth and childhood, that is the most problematic for her and the one place to which she avoids returning. Fernandez learns of George Floyd’s lynching through the television of a Zipolite family giving her shelter during the aftermath of an earthquake and for readers around the world, we are immediately reminded that justice and peace are eternally elusive for the masses of people without racial, gender, sexual, economic, and other privileges. She never shies away from turning these critiques upon herself; and yet, the reader empathizes with her because in our own ways, we avoid the discomfort of lacking agency to do more for each other. As she says, a sentiment the reader can understand deeply because of quarantine, “there was no longer a surplus of people to throw me into ethical dilemmas” about personal choices of say, yoga clothed or nude, but the political became even more tantamount as Black and brown bodies piled higher and higher because of structural inequities throughout the world.

    Fernandez’s arduous search for her favorite brand of mate, tender attachment to colorful buckets with multiple uses and purposes, and devastation at the departure of random strangers who become stable parts of her quarantined life remind us that we, too, were forced to slow down in our own small places. She repeatedly acknowledges the privileges of her status, but the loss of the life she created and longed for stand out as a reminder to us that we often have more than we need and can (and maybe should?) get by in this post-1492 world with less emphasis on material accumulation and standards of success as defined by whiteness, heteropatriarchy, and capitalism. The reader shares Fernandez’s final musing that “plenty of movement [is] possible while standing still” (75), especially as circumstances beyond our control, such as a global pandemic, force us to contend with the strengths, weaknesses, chaos and calm, and political events that guide and affect our personal lives. For all the shifts in Fernandez’s life, she diligently creates routines, simple activities that ground her including her morning jogs, afternoon wine, and conversations about Zipolite community members and their fight for land rights. While politics often separate us, the human condition bridges the borders: Beirut, San Salvador, Minneapolis, and Zipolite. As Fernandez opines, “Checkpoints can also, then, be instrumental in maintaining sectarian geographies—and the confessionalization of space—by reminding the Other of his or her outsider-ness.”

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • Image by Li-An Lim.

    President Joe Biden announced on Earth Day that under the Paris climate agreement, the United States will pledge a 50-percent reduction in greenhouse-gas emissions by 2030. He also reiterated his intention to “set a course” toward “net zero emissions economy-wide” by 2050.

    This was a welcome change from life under the previous president, who had rejected all action on climate, even the toothless Paris emissions pledges (known to bureaucrats everywhere as “Nationally Determined Contributions,” or NDCs). Yet there are at least three things wrong with Biden’s climate vision: a 50 percent emissions reduction by 2030 is too slow; the “net zero emissions by 2050” goal is no more than a euphemism for continued burning of fossil fuels; and the president has not articulated any strategy or mechanism for achieving even these overly modest goals. In other words, there’s no plan in the Biden plan.

    The only strategy, it seems, is to infuse the U.S. economy with trillions of dollars of funds for energy and other infrastructure, then hand the keys over to the corporate sector and wait for them to figure out how to wean the economy off of fossil fuels.

    The Biden pledge to cut emissions in half within a decade has wowed the media, but it’s not as impressive as it seems. That reduction is relative to the year 2005, when our national emissions were significantly higher than they are now. The neat, round-number pledge of 50 percent takes credit, so to speak, for reductions that are already in the bag. Set those aside, and Biden’s goal is to cut current emissions by just 43 percent.

    A 43-percent pledge falls well short of what is needed. The latest edition of the authoritative United Nations’ Emissions Gap Report shows that to give the Earth a fighting chance to avoid catastrophic heating of more than 1.5 degrees Celsius above the pre-industrial temperatures, we must, between 2021 and 2030, shrink global emissions by 57 percent. The NDC pledges of all nations combined, noted the report, would come nowhere close to achieving that necessary reduction. Adding in the Biden pledge, which came four months after the UN report was published, doesn’t substantially change the dismal math.

    Annual U.S. greenhouse emissions remain second-highest in the world, and our cumulative historical contribution to atmospheric carbon is the largest of any nation; therefore, we have a moral obligation to make cuts that are much larger on a percentage basis than the minimum necessary global reductions. The Biden targets effectively shirk that responsibility. Whereas the Emissions Gap Report calls, as a minimum, for an almost 60 percent decrease from today’s global emissions, the Biden target would, by 3030, sustain U.S. emissions at almost 60 percent of today’s oversized greenhouse-gas output.

    The “net zero” head-fake

    Over time, government and industry have adopted ever more inventive circumlocutions designed to make climate-mitigation measures and technologies sound a lot more impressive than they are. (My favorite example is featured in an EPA-certified decal on the left rear window of our fourteen-year-old Honda Civic hybrid sedan: PARTIAL ZERO EMISSIONS VEHICLE.) Now in recent years, with the point of no return for decisive climate action fast approaching, the designers of climate policy have converged on a term that, while comprising only seven letters, is big enough to contain all of our hopes: “net zero.”

    The adoption of “net zero” grows out of a longstanding desire to keep burning fossil fuels for decades to come—especially in power plants, where coal and gas are able to provide the steady, continuous “base load” that wind and solar sources cannot support. That desire is wrapped within another seemingly ambitious Biden’s pledge: to achieve a “carbon pollution-free power sector by 2035.” In this context, “carbon-free” is not the same as fossil-fuel-free.

    Biden himself has noted that fossil-fueled power stations can be made ostensibly “carbon-free” by capturing exhaust from the smokestack, extracting almost all the CO2, and injecting it belowground. This has not actually been done in practice (except as a technique for extracting more oil, which does not reduce emissions), but just the idea of carbon burial has long enabled governments and utilities to formulate “net zero by year X” emissions targets.

    In contrast, another nominally “net zero” process, electricity generation from plant biomass, has been widely adopted in the U.S. and elsewhere. The European Union classifies biomass burning as “renewable,” so over the past decade, biomass, mostly in the form of wood pellets, has come to account for well over half of the union’s “carbon-free” electricity supply. But, as always, there’s a catch. The wood is obtained mostly from live trees, leading to extensive deforestation in Eastern Europe. In Estonia, the land-use sector, which includes forestry, is traditionally a net accumulator of carbon from the atmosphere. Now, with extensive clearcutting underway to feed Europe’s power plants, Estonia’s forest lands are on course to become a net carbon emitter by 2030.

    As it has become increasingly clear that neither old-school carbon capture nor electricity-from-biomass alone will be sufficient to achieve “net zero” emissions economy-wide, strategists have gravitated toward the clever idea of combining bioenergy with carbon sequestration, the goal being to achieve not just carbon neutrality but a net reduction of emissions. In the concept called “bioenergy with carbon capture and storage” (BECCS), harvests from large plantations of trees or other high-yield biomass crops would be dried and pelletized, hauled to power plants, and burned like coal to produce electricity, as in the EU’s “renewable” system. But with BECCS, the CO2 emitted from the biomass-fed power plants would be captured and buried before escaping the smokestack.

    BECCS would be aimed at a double win: reduction of atmospheric CO2 plus electricity generation. But closer examination shows that it would fail on both counts, delivering less net energy and capturing less net carbon than promised. That’s because vast quantities of energy would have to be expended in growing and harvesting biomass crops, hauling the biomass to the processing factory, grinding and pelletizing, hauling pellets to the power plant, sucking CO2 out of the smokestack, liquefying the CO2, hauling the liquid to an abandoned oil or gas well, and injecting it under high pressure.

    Energy expenditures for all of those processes would, in sum, reduce the net energy produced by the BECCS power plant by 25 to 100 percent. If the energy input comes from fossil fuels (as would be the case well into the future), a goodly portion of the carbon-capture benefits of BECCS also would be canceled out.

    Growing the plantations to feed BECCS would do the kind of ecological and social damage to the entire Earth that Europe’s biomass-burning is doing to Estonia. To pull less than one-third of human-produced CO2 emissions out of the atmosphere would require the planting of bioenergy crops on as much land as is already used to grow the world’s food, feed, and fiber crops. As much as half of all natural forests, grasslands, and savannahs could be lost, wiping out more biodiversity than would die off with a global temperature rise of 2+ degrees above pre-industrial levels—the very scale of disaster that carbon sequestration is aimed at preventing.

    Planting and harvesting vast new acreages of biomass crops would also break down organic matter in soils, releasing CO2 into the atmosphere and canceling out a big portion of what’s being captured. Indeed, if very large natural landscapes are brought into production of feedstocks for BECCS, the whole project could become a net carbon emitter.

    It’s not surprising, given these problems, that there are no full-scale BECCS facilities in operation; nevertheless, the very idea that they can be deployed in the future will be incorporated into climate models to claim the theoretical possibility of “net zero by 2050” for a long time to come—or at least until 2045 or so.

    As it becomes clearer that world-scale biomass burning would be a fiasco, those seeking an alternative route to “net zero” (including Biden) have latched onto the idea of pulling CO2 directly out of thin air, in an industrial process known as “direct-air capture.” But the technology is not safely applicable at large scale, and it has impossibly large energy requirements.

    James Dyke, Robert Watson, and Wolfgang Knorr of the University of Exeter, the University of East Anglia, and Lund University, respectively, have been researching climate change for decades but they’d never raised objections to “net zero” claims until this year’s Earth Day, when they published an article admitting that “the premise of net zero is deceptively simple – and we admit that it deceived us.” Their conclusion: “We have arrived at the painful realization that the idea of net zero has licensed a recklessly cavalier ‘burn now, pay later’ approach which has seen carbon emissions continue to soar. It has also hastened the destruction of the natural world by increasing deforestation today, and greatly increases the risk of further devastation in the future.”

    If legislation emerges from the Biden climate plan as it’s currently conceived, its Congressional sponsors should level with the American people and call it the “Not Zero by 2050 Act.”

    A hole that must be plugged

    The gaping hole in the middle of Biden’s climate vision—a deficiency shared by the Green New Deal and almost all other such plans—is the lack of any policy to directly phase out the extraction and burning of fossil fuels on a strict deadline.

    Instead, the mainstream climate movement is counting on indirect nudges from market competition, carbon pricing, disinvestment, etc., along with partial withdrawal of federal support for fossil fuels (by, for example, ending subsidies to the industry or banning new leases for exploration and drilling on federal land).

    If our nation and world had committed to such measures in, say, 1990, when the world was just waking up to climate change, there might have been enough time for such gradualist policies to have an impact. But if, at this late date, high-emitting countries were at long last to drag themselves across the starting line and declare ambitious 2030 emissions targets, it would be much too late for market nudges and regulatory half-measures to succeed.

    The 2020 Emissions Gap Report notes that if the world were to begin cutting emissions tomorrow, the rate of reduction required to stay below 1.5 degrees of warming would have to be four times as fast as the rate that would have been required had we started just in 2010. An 8 percent annual decrease in fossil fuel use will be obligatory through the 2020s and beyond, and that can be achieved only through nationalization of the fossil fuel industries, followed by imposition of mandatory, fast-falling limits on the numbers of barrels of oil, cubic feet of gas, and tons of coal coming out of the ground and into the economy each year. I realize that such a proposal would be a non-starter in the current White House and Congress. But that doesn’t change the fact that such steep reductions are necessary.

    When the new White House fact sheet on the climate plan tells us there are “multiple paths” to reaching “carbon free” electricity and other goals “while supporting a strong economy,” it’s not talking about eliminating fossil fuels; rather, it’s implicitly referring to reliance on gimmicks like carbon-capture schemes or forest-based offset programs. (Under the latter, landowners can simply refrain from cutting their trees and thereby earn carbon credits that they sell to utilities or other companies, which can use the credits as permits to keep burning fossil fuels. The result is an overall increase in emissions.) Electric utilities are counting on the continued federal laxity toward fossil energy as they make plans to build a staggering 235 new natural gas–fired power plants in coming years.

    As if tolerating fossil fuels was not dangerous enough, the White House fact sheet also assumes a continued dependence on nuclear energy—not only to help cobble together a nominally “carbon-free” power sector but also for generating “green hydrogen” that can be burned to, among other things, keep the airline industry aloft.

    The fact sheet furthermore declares an intention to “ship American-made, clean energy products — like EV batteries— around the world.” In other words, U.S. companies will increase their imports of lithium, cobalt, rare earths, and other metals—mined and processed in other lands at incalculable ecological and humanitarian costs—in order to manufacture and export electric-vehicle batteries at a sweet “green” profit.

    With a quest underway to replace the entire U.S. fleet of private cars and trucks with hundreds of millions of battery-powered vehicles while soon attempting to equip a brand-new national electric grid with at least 6 trillion pounds worth of batteries, I doubt that U.S. corporations will even have any surplus batteries to export under Biden’s plan. And I do not expect that either our current case of battery fever or the broader pursuit of mineral resources required by the entire high-tech “green” infrastructure will end well.

    Those resources, like oil, are non-renewable and, like oil, most of them lie under someone else’s soil. America’s desperation to satisfy its prodigious energy appetite by pursuing fossil fuels across the globe over the past century led to political oppression and repeated military invasions—a dirty history of imperialism that could continue, this time with the prize being metals. Writing for CounterPunch way back in 2014, Don Fitz warned of “green wars” over minerals for use in renewable energy, asking,

    Would the Green World Order mean that Venezuela might have less reason to fear an invasion aimed at gaining access to its heavy oils? Or, would it mean an additional invasion of Bolivia to grab its lithium for green batteries? Would northern Africa no longer need to fear attacks to secure Libyan oil? Or, would new green armies to secure solar collectors for European energy be added to existing armies? Across the globe, those marching with the red, white and blue banner of the War for Oil would continue to invade. But they could be joined by those marching with a green banner.

    Which FDR will show up?

    In April, an array of civil society organizations that included Friends of the Earth U.S. and the Sunrise Movement submitted a report titled “United States of America: Fair Shares Nationally Determined Contribution” to the UN body overseeing the Paris agreement. The report urges a 70 percent cut in U.S. emissions by 2030. That is a much more robust NDC than Biden proposes, and it’s also more realistic—not realistic in the current political context, of course, but rather in its acknowledgement that very aggressive action will be necessary if we are to avoid a torrid 2-degree future.

    While the U.S. and other affluent countries need to go on an energy diet, the majority of people in many other countries, many of them in Africa and South Asia, are starved of energy, whether from fossil or renewable sources. At the same time, many face severe exposure and vulnerability to climate disruption. Accordingly, the Fair Shares report calls for Washington to provide $800 billion over the next decade in climate reparations to low-income countries for mitigation, adaptation, and loss and damage. In addition, it proposes up to $3 trillion to help those countries implement the UN Sustainable Development Goals and Paris Agreement goals.

    On the downside, the Fair Shares report has a deficiency in common with the Biden non-plan and the Green New Deal. It suggests no surefire mandatory mechanism to fulfill its goal of driving fossil fuel use down by 70 percent by 2030 and down to (real) zero in time to avoid catastrophe.

    We are faced with an urgent need to completely ditch our primary sources of energy—oil, gas, and coal—on a crash schedule and partially replace them with new systems. Given the urgency, we do not have the luxury of reducing fossil-fuel use at the same gradual rate at which non-fossil energy capacity, with its wholly new, coast-to-coast electric grid big enough to support “the electrification of everything,” can be built.

    Fossil fuels will have to be phased out at a rate that can prevent catastrophic warming—that is, much faster than a new renewable-energy system can be developed to compensate. Therefore, the necessary energy transformation will, by necessity, be a time of smaller total energy supply.

    The White House’s climate ambitions don’t follow such logic. They aim to satisfy, throughout the transition, as much energy demand as the market can bear. Whether that entails “multiple paths to carbon-free” or “net zero,” the result will be long-term dependence on fossil fuels and nuclear energy. A direct, mandatory, accelerated phase-out of fossil fuels would rule out such self-delusion, bringing us face to face with our predicament and spurring creative adaptation to a new, low-energy reality.

    Like the Green New Deal, the Biden vision has some laudable features that really will be essential to getting us through the coming decades. We do need a buildup (modest, not overblown) of non-fossil energy sources. Even more importantly, provisions to ensure economic justice, security, and equity for the non-affluent majority are all urgently needed.

    In calling for such policies as part of broader infrastructure legislation, President Biden has explicitly invoked the example of Franklin D. Roosevelt, who fostered Congress’s passage in his first term of the National Industrial Recovery Act, the Works Progress Administration, the Social Security Act, the National Labor Relations Act, and the Civilian Conservation Corps.

    Now that he is embracing forceful government action to solve urgent problems, Biden must be pushed further, to recognize the need for a federal cap-and-adapt policy that rapidly phases out fossil fuels while managing the consequences with economic fairness and sufficiency. In that, he would have to emulate not just the FDR of 1933-35 but the FDR of 1941 as well.

    By 1941, I’m referring not to the armament buildup for World War II but rather to the federal government’s redirection of the civilian economy toward restraint in the use of scarce energy and material resources, the allocation of those resources toward essential goods and services, and the guarantee, through rationing, of universal, fair, equitable access to food and energy.

    Biden’s hundred-days speech to Congress on April 28, and the broader Democratic legislative agenda, suggest that the party has explicitly abandoned the idea that the market can solve our thorniest problems in areas of economic inequality, racial justice, health care, and other issues. The global ecological emergency requires that Washington likewise ditch the naïve belief that markets can end the fossil-fuel plague. That hole in our climate policies must be plugged immediately.

    The post Biden’s Climate Proposals: Tiptoeing Across the Starting Line appeared first on CounterPunch.org.

    This post was originally published on CounterPunch.org.

  • President Joe Biden announced on Earth Day that under the Paris climate agreement, the United States will pledge a 50-percent reduction in greenhouse-gas emissions by 2030. He also reiterated his intention to “set a course” toward “net zero emissions economy-wide” by 2050.

    This was a welcome change from life under the previous president, who had rejected all action on climate, even the toothless Paris emissions pledges (known to bureaucrats everywhere as “Nationally Determined Contributions,” or NDCs). Yet there are at least three things wrong with Biden’s climate vision: a 50 percent emissions reduction by 2030 is too slow; the “net zero emissions by 2050” goal is no more than a euphemism for continued burning of fossil fuels; and the president has not articulated any strategy or mechanism for achieving even these overly modest goals. In other words, there’s no plan in the Biden plan.

    The only strategy, it seems, is to infuse the U.S. economy with trillions of dollars of funds for energy and other infrastructure, then hand the keys over to the corporate sector and wait for them to figure out how to wean the economy off of fossil fuels.

    The Biden pledge to cut emissions in half within a decade has wowed the media, but it’s not as impressive as it seems. That reduction is relative to the year 2005, when our national emissions were significantly higher than they are now. The neat, round-number pledge of 50 percent takes credit, so to speak, for reductions that are already in the bag. Set those aside, and Biden’s goal is to cut current emissions by just 43 percent.

    A 43-percent pledge falls well short of what is needed. The latest edition of the authoritative United Nations’ Emissions Gap Report shows that to give the Earth a fighting chance to avoid catastrophic heating of more than 1.5 degrees Celsius above the pre-industrial temperatures, we must, between 2021 and 2030, shrink global emissions by 57 percent. The NDC pledges of all nations combined, noted the report, would come nowhere close to achieving that necessary reduction. Adding in the Biden pledge, which came four months after the UN report was published, doesn’t substantially change the dismal math.

    Annual U.S. greenhouse emissions remain second-highest in the world, and our cumulative historical contribution to atmospheric carbon is the largest of any nation; therefore, we have a moral obligation to make cuts that are much larger on a percentage basis than the minimum necessary global reductions. The Biden targets effectively shirk that responsibility. Whereas the Emissions Gap Report calls, as a minimum, for an almost 60 percent decrease from today’s global emissions, the Biden target would, by 3030, sustain U.S. emissions at almost 60 percent of today’s oversized greenhouse-gas output.

    The “net zero” head-fake

    Over time, government and industry have adopted ever more inventive circumlocutions designed to make climate-mitigation measures and technologies sound a lot more impressive than they are. (My favorite example is featured in an EPA-certified decal on the left rear window of our fourteen-year-old Honda Civic hybrid sedan: PARTIAL ZERO EMISSIONS VEHICLE.) Now in recent years, with the point of no return for decisive climate action fast approaching, the designers of climate policy have converged on a term that, while comprising only seven letters, is big enough to contain all of our hopes: “net zero.”

    The adoption of “net zero” grows out of a longstanding desire to keep burning fossil fuels for decades to come—especially in power plants, where coal and gas are able to provide the steady, continuous “base load” that wind and solar sources cannot support. That desire is wrapped within another seemingly ambitious Biden’s pledge: to achieve a “carbon pollution-free power sector by 2035.” In this context, “carbon-free” is not the same as fossil-fuel-free.

    Biden himself has noted that fossil-fueled power stations can be made ostensibly “carbon-free” by capturing exhaust from the smokestack, extracting almost all the CO2, and injecting it belowground. This has not actually been done in practice (except as a technique for extracting more oil, which does not reduce emissions), but just the idea of carbon burial has long enabled governments and utilities to formulate “net zero by year X” emissions targets.

    In contrast, another nominally “net zero” process, electricity generation from plant biomass, has been widely adopted in the U.S. and elsewhere. The European Union classifies biomass burning as “renewable,” so over the past decade, biomass, mostly in the form of wood pellets, has come to account for well over half of the union’s “carbon-free” electricity supply. But, as always, there’s a catch. The wood is obtained mostly from live trees, leading to extensive deforestation in Eastern Europe. In Estonia, the land-use sector, which includes forestry, is traditionally a net accumulator of carbon from the atmosphere. Now, with extensive clearcutting underway to feed Europe’s power plants, Estonia’s forest lands are on course to become a net carbon emitter by 2030.

    As it has become increasingly clear that neither old-school carbon capture nor electricity-from-biomass alone will be sufficient to achieve “net zero” emissions economy-wide, strategists have gravitated toward the clever idea of combining bioenergy with carbon sequestration, the goal being to achieve not just carbon neutrality but a net reduction of emissions. In the concept called “bioenergy with carbon capture and storage” (BECCS), harvests from large plantations of trees or other high-yield biomass crops would be dried and pelletized, hauled to power plants, and burned like coal to produce electricity, as in the EU’s “renewable” system. But with BECCS, the CO2 emitted from the biomass-fed power plants would be captured and buried before escaping the smokestack.

    BECCS would be aimed at a double win: reduction of atmospheric CO2 plus electricity generation. But closer examination shows that it would fail on both counts, delivering less net energy and capturing less net carbon than promised. That’s because vast quantities of energy would have to be expended in growing and harvesting biomass crops, hauling the biomass to the processing factory, grinding and pelletizing, hauling pellets to the power plant, sucking CO2 out of the smokestack, liquefying the CO2, hauling the liquid to an abandoned oil or gas well, and injecting it under high pressure.

    Energy expenditures for all of those processes would, in sum, reduce the net energy produced by the BECCS power plant by 25 to 100 percent. If the energy input comes from fossil fuels (as would be the case well into the future), a goodly portion of the carbon-capture benefits of BECCS also would be canceled out.

    Growing the plantations to feed BECCS would do the kind of ecological and social damage to the entire Earth that Europe’s biomass-burning is doing to Estonia. To pull less than one-third of human-produced CO2 emissions out of the atmosphere would require the planting of bioenergy crops on as much land as is already used to grow the world’s food, feed, and fiber crops. As much as half of all natural forests, grasslands, and savannahs could be lost, wiping out more biodiversity than would die off with a global temperature rise of 2+ degrees above pre-industrial levels—the very scale of disaster that carbon sequestration is aimed at preventing.

    Planting and harvesting vast new acreages of biomass crops would also break down organic matter in soils, releasing CO2 into the atmosphere and canceling out a big portion of what’s being captured. Indeed, if very large natural landscapes are brought into production of feedstocks for BECCS, the whole project could become a net carbon emitter.

    It’s not surprising, given these problems, that there are no full-scale BECCS facilities in operation; nevertheless, the very idea that they can be deployed in the future will be incorporated into climate models to claim the theoretical possibility of “net zero by 2050” for a long time to come—or at least until 2045 or so.

    As it becomes clearer that world-scale biomass burning would be a fiasco, those seeking an alternative route to “net zero” (including Biden) have latched onto the idea of pulling CO2 directly out of thin air, in an industrial process known as “direct-air capture.” But the technology is not safely applicable at large scale, and it has impossibly large energy requirements.

    James Dyke, Robert Watson, and Wolfgang Knorr of the University of Exeter, the University of East Anglia, and Lund University, respectively, have been researching climate change for decades but they’d never raised objections to “net zero” claims until this year’s Earth Day, when they published an article admitting that “the premise of net zero is deceptively simple – and we admit that it deceived us.” Their conclusion: “We have arrived at the painful realization that the idea of net zero has licensed a recklessly cavalier ‘burn now, pay later’ approach which has seen carbon emissions continue to soar. It has also hastened the destruction of the natural world by increasing deforestation today, and greatly increases the risk of further devastation in the future.”

    If legislation emerges from the Biden climate plan as it’s currently conceived, its Congressional sponsors should level with the American people and call it the “Not Zero by 2050 Act.”

    A hole that must be plugged

    The gaping hole in the middle of Biden’s climate vision—a deficiency shared by the Green New Deal and almost all other such plans—is the lack of any policy to directly phase out the extraction and burning of fossil fuels on a strict deadline.

    Instead, the mainstream climate movement is counting on indirect nudges from market competition, carbon pricing, disinvestment, etc., along with partial withdrawal of federal support for fossil fuels (by, for example, ending subsidies to the industry or banning new leases for exploration and drilling on federal land).

    If our nation and world had committed to such measures in, say, 1990, when the world was just waking up to climate change, there might have been enough time for such gradualist policies to have an impact. But if, at this late date, high-emitting countries were at long last to drag themselves across the starting line and declare ambitious 2030 emissions targets, it would be much too late for market nudges and regulatory half-measures to succeed.

    The 2020 Emissions Gap Report notes that if the world were to begin cutting emissions tomorrow, the rate of reduction required to stay below 1.5 degrees of warming would have to be four times as fast as the rate that would have been required had we started just in 2010. An 8 percent annual decrease in fossil fuel use will be obligatory through the 2020s and beyond, and that can be achieved only through nationalization of the fossil fuel industries, followed by imposition of mandatory, fast-falling limits on the numbers of barrels of oil, cubic feet of gas, and tons of coal coming out of the ground and into the economy each year. I realize that such a proposal would be a non-starter in the current White House and Congress. But that doesn’t change the fact that such steep reductions are necessary.

    When the new White House fact sheet on the climate plan tells us there are “multiple paths” to reaching “carbon free” electricity and other goals “while supporting a strong economy,” it’s not talking about eliminating fossil fuels; rather, it’s implicitly referring to reliance on gimmicks like carbon-capture schemes or forest-based offset programs. (Under the latter, landowners can simply refrain from cutting their trees and thereby earn carbon credits that they sell to utilities or other companies, which can use the credits as permits to keep burning fossil fuels. The result is an overall increase in emissions.) Electric utilities are counting on the continued federal laxity toward fossil energy as they make plans to build a staggering 235 new natural gas–fired power plants in coming years.

    As if tolerating fossil fuels was not dangerous enough, the White House fact sheet also assumes a continued dependence on nuclear energy—not only to help cobble together a nominally “carbon-free” power sector but also for generating “green hydrogen” that can be burned to, among other things, keep the airline industry aloft.

    The fact sheet furthermore declares an intention to “ship American-made, clean energy products — like EV batteries— around the world.” In other words, U.S. companies will increase their imports of lithium, cobalt, rare earths, and other metals—mined and processed in other lands at incalculable ecological and humanitarian costs—in order to manufacture and export electric-vehicle batteries at a sweet “green” profit.

    With a quest underway to replace the entire U.S. fleet of private cars and trucks with hundreds of millions of battery-powered vehicles while soon attempting to equip a brand-new national electric grid with at least 6 trillion pounds worth of batteries, I doubt that U.S. corporations will even have any surplus batteries to export under Biden’s plan. And I do not expect that either our current case of battery fever or the broader pursuit of mineral resources required by the entire high-tech “green” infrastructure will end well.

    Those resources, like oil, are non-renewable and, like oil, most of them lie under someone else’s soil. America’s desperation to satisfy its prodigious energy appetite by pursuing fossil fuels across the globe over the past century led to political oppression and repeated military invasions—a dirty history of imperialism that could continue, this time with the prize being metals. Writing for CounterPunch way back in 2014, Don Fitz warned of “green wars” over minerals for use in renewable energy, asking,

    Would the Green World Order mean that Venezuela might have less reason to fear an invasion aimed at gaining access to its heavy oils? Or, would it mean an additional invasion of Bolivia to grab its lithium for green batteries? Would northern Africa no longer need to fear attacks to secure Libyan oil? Or, would new green armies to secure solar collectors for European energy be added to existing armies? Across the globe, those marching with the red, white and blue banner of the War for Oil would continue to invade. But they could be joined by those marching with a green banner.

    Which FDR will show up?

    In April, an array of civil society organizations that included Friends of the Earth U.S. and the Sunrise Movement submitted a report titled “United States of America: Fair Shares Nationally Determined Contribution” to the UN body overseeing the Paris agreement. The report urges a 70 percent cut in U.S. emissions by 2030. That is a much more robust NDC than Biden proposes, and it’s also more realistic—not realistic in the current political context, of course, but rather in its acknowledgement that very aggressive action will be necessary if we are to avoid a torrid 2-degree future.

    While the U.S. and other affluent countries need to go on an energy diet, the majority of people in many other countries, many of them in Africa and South Asia, are starved of energy, whether from fossil or renewable sources. At the same time, many face severe exposure and vulnerability to climate disruption. Accordingly, the Fair Shares report calls for Washington to provide $800 billion over the next decade in climate reparations to low-income countries for mitigation, adaptation, and loss and damage. In addition, it proposes up to $3 trillion to help those countries implement the UN Sustainable Development Goals and Paris Agreement goals.

    On the downside, the Fair Shares report has a deficiency in common with the Biden non-plan and the Green New Deal. It suggests no surefire mandatory mechanism to fulfill its goal of driving fossil fuel use down by 70 percent by 2030 and down to (real) zero in time to avoid catastrophe.

    We are faced with an urgent need to completely ditch our primary sources of energy—oil, gas, and coal—on a crash schedule and partially replace them with new systems. Given the urgency, we do not have the luxury of reducing fossil-fuel use at the same gradual rate at which non-fossil energy capacity, with its wholly new, coast-to-coast electric grid big enough to support “the electrification of everything,” can be built.

    Fossil fuels will have to be phased out at a rate that can prevent catastrophic warming—that is, much faster than a new renewable-energy system can be developed to compensate. Therefore, the necessary energy transformation will, by necessity, be a time of smaller total energy supply.

    The White House’s climate ambitions don’t follow such logic. They aim to satisfy, throughout the transition, as much energy demand as the market can bear. Whether that entails “multiple paths to carbon-free” or “net zero,” the result will be long-term dependence on fossil fuels and nuclear energy. A direct, mandatory, accelerated phase-out of fossil fuels would rule out such self-delusion, bringing us face to face with our predicament and spurring creative adaptation to a new, low-energy reality.

    Like the Green New Deal, the Biden vision has some laudable features that really will be essential to getting us through the coming decades. We do need a buildup (modest, not overblown) of non-fossil energy sources. Even more importantly, provisions to ensure economic justice, security, and equity for the non-affluent majority are all urgently needed.

    In calling for such policies as part of broader infrastructure legislation, President Biden has explicitly invoked the example of Franklin D. Roosevelt, who fostered Congress’s passage in his first term of the National Industrial Recovery Act, the Works Progress Administration, the Social Security Act, the National Labor Relations Act, and the Civilian Conservation Corps.

    Now that he is embracing forceful government action to solve urgent problems, Biden must be pushed further, to recognize the need for a federal cap-and-adapt policy that rapidly phases out fossil fuels while managing the consequences with economic fairness and sufficiency. In that, he would have to emulate not just the FDR of 1933-35 but the FDR of 1941 as well.

    By 1941, I’m referring not to the armament buildup for World War II but rather to the federal government’s redirection of the civilian economy toward restraint in the use of scarce energy and material resources, the allocation of those resources toward essential goods and services, and the guarantee, through rationing, of universal, fair, equitable access to food and energy.

    Biden’s hundred-days speech to Congress on April 28, and the broader Democratic legislative agenda, suggest that the party has explicitly abandoned the idea that the market can solve our thorniest problems in areas of economic inequality, racial justice, health care, and other issues. The global ecological emergency requires that Washington likewise ditch the naïve belief that markets can end the fossil-fuel plague. That hole in our climate policies must be plugged immediately.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • The Belgian colonizers transformed Congo into a slave-state for rubber and ivory. So-called Congo Free State (État indépendant du Congo) existed as a private colony of King Leopold II (1835-1909) until the Belgian government took over in 1908. Belgian rule killed an estimated 10 million people. Post-independence, the country split into what is now the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC, known for a time as Zaire,) and the Republic of Congo (a.k.a., Congo-Brazzaville).

    This article mainly concerns the DRC, which has a population of 91 million. With a GDP of just $50 billion a year and an extreme poverty rate of over 70 percent, it is one of the poorest nations on Earth. The infant mortality rate is 66 per 1,000 live births—one of the worst in the world, life expectancy is 60 years, and per 100k people maternal mortality is over 690. Conflicts from 1996 to the present, plus the resultant malnutrition and disease, have killed six million people.

    Like their Franco-Belgian predecessors, the main interest of U.S. imperialists in DRC, on which this article focuses is Katanga, the uranium- and coltan-rich, south-eastern region that borders Angola and Zambia.

    THE MINE

    Congolese were not passive victims. Although 80 percent of the population is Bantu, DRC has some 200 ethnic communities. The majority of other groups include Kongo, Luba, Lunda, and Mongo. Belgian hegemons struggled to force the diverse country to accept a national identity. For instance, in 1920s’ Kinshasa, the Simonist Christian movement, Kimbanguism, encouraged resistance to the Europeans. A decade later, the ethnic Bapende (a.k.a., Pende) went on strike in Kwilu Province in the west of the country.

    Secessionist Katanga in the south contained uranium deposits, particularly at Shinkolobwe. The mine was owned by Belgium’s Union Minière, in which the UK had investments. The best U.S. and Canadian uranium mines typically yielded 0.03 percent uranium per ore deposit. Shinkolobwe’s uranium averaged 65 percent, making it unique. Uranium at the mine was used in the all-important nuclear weapons industry. Western intelligence agencies wanted to deprive the Soviets of access.

    The U.S. struck a secret deal with Union Minière to supply uranium for use in the Manhattan Project (1942-46). The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, which also initially headed the Manhattan Project, set up base at Shinkolobwe to drain the mine and export the uranium. The bombs that murdered hundreds of thousands of Japanese civilians at Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945 were built with uranium extracted from Shinkolobwe.

    The CIA opened a desk in Léopoldville (now Kinshasa the capital) in 1951. From Kwilu and other Provinces (then “districts”) grew the Parti Solidaire Africain (African Mutual Party), a leftish, pro-independence movement led by future PM Antoine Gizenga (1925-2019). Gizenga allied with Patrice Lumumba’s Congolese National Movement (Mouvement national Congolais, MNC), founded in 1958 and whose members included Joseph-Désiré Mobutu (1930-97).

    Mobutu (later Mobutu Sese Seko) was a high-ranking Army officer and asset of the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency. A CIA report from November 1959 bemoans the lack of control by the Belgian authorities. This led the way for “political groups [that] want immediate independence, while tribal leaders [are] interested primarily perpetuating [their] own local authority.” The CIA describes this as Congo’s “absence [of] responsible African leadership.” The Washington Post writes that “Mobutu first became an ‘asset’ of the CIA in 1959 during a meeting in Brussels,” but gives no further details.

    Future President Joseph Kasavubu (1915-69) led the ethnic ABAKO party (Association des BaKongo), which the Belgians banned. Under Prime Minister Lumumba’s MNC umbrella, Kasavubu became President and Gizenga Deputy PM. Sgt-Maj. Mobutu continued to lead the Army (Force Publique). The Parti Solidaire Africain began to fall apart as the MNC declared Congo’s independence from Belgium on June 30th, 1960. The Force Publique was renamed Congolese Army (Armée Nationale Congolaise, ANC).

    LUMUMBA: “AVOID ANOTHER CUBA”

    The U.S. State Department’s Office of the Historian writes that the Dwight D. Eisenhower administration (1953-61) “had high hopes that [Congo] would form a stable, pro-Western, central government. Those hopes vanished in a matter of days as the newly independent nation descended into chaos.” It notes that, “[w]hile the United States supported the U.N. effort, members of the Eisenhower administration [grew] increasingly concerned that the Congo crisis would provide an opening for Soviet intervention.”

    Mobutu refused to back Lumumba’s government. Moïse Tshombé (1919-69) co-founded the Confederation of Tribal Associations of Katanga (Confédération des associations tribales du Katanga, CONAKAT). In July 1960, Tshombé declared Katanga independent from Congo. The Belgian colonizers figured that if they couldn’t control Congo, they could at least retain the most important region.

    U.S. Director of Central Intelligence, John McCone (1902-91) was a businessman sent to lead the Agency by President Kennedy after the Bay of Pigs debacle (1961). Against the wishes of Ambassador G. McMurtrie Godley (1917-99), McCone insisted on continuing U.S. covert operations in Congo, particularly fostering closer relations with Tshombé. McCone told Secretary of State Dean Rusk (1909-94): “we should not be deterred from this by the persuasion of do-gooders, by reactions from African states in the United Nations who didn’t like us anyway.”

    Under United Nations Security Council Resolution 143 (1960), the U.N., led by Secretary-General Dag Hammarskjöld (1905-61), demanded the withdrawal of Belgian troops and sent armed forces. Lumumba pushed Hammarskjöld to use the forces to quell Tshombé rebellion, but Hammarskjöld refused and PM Lumumba (1925-61) sought military assistance from the Soviets.

    In 1960, the CIA’s Station Chief in Léopoldville, Lawrence Devlin (1922-2008, alias Victor Hedgman or Hedgeman), cabled Washington. “[Congo is] experiencing classic communist effort [to] takeover government. Whether or not Lumumba actually [is a] commie or just playing commie game[s] to assist solidifying power, anti-West forces [are] rapidly increasing power … [T]here may be little time left in which take action [to] avoid another Cuba.”

    In May, the CIA admitted that there are “no known Communists among Congo leaders,” but the Agency suspected sympathies. It acknowledged that “post-independence [Soviet] bloc aid may push Congo toward bloc-oriented neutralism.” The CIA wanted Congo in the U.S. sphere, not neutral. Contrary to the mythology pushed the likes of CIA Director Allen Dulles (1893-1969) and Léopoldville Station Chief Devlin, that Lumumba was a Soviet asset, a July 1960 National Security Council briefing notes that “Lumumba wants aid from any and all quarters; he is therefore not anxious to burn his bridges to [the] West.” The CIA was there to do that for him.

    Another NSC briefing regarded Belgium’s attitude towards Katangan independence as ambiguous because secessionist Tshombé could be used as a proxy against Lumumba. “Brussels [is] anxious to protect its investments in Katanga and probably views Lumumba as a budding Castro.”

    CIA Director Dulles and Chief of the Africa Division (clandestine services), Bronson Tweedy (1914-2004), believed that Lumumba’s existence would lead to “disastrous consequences for the prestige of the UN and for the interests of the free world generally.” Dulles gave his officers permission to act without the consent of Ambassadors: “Time does not permit referral here.” (Cable likely drafted by Tweedy, signed by Dulles).

    KILLING LUMUMBA: “I ORGANISED IT”

    Aside from the spectacular and unrealized plots to poison Lumumba with toxins invented by the CIA’s poisoner-in-chief Sidney Gottlieb (a.k.a., Joseph Scheider, 1918-99), practical CIA operations saw covert support for anti-Lumumba politicians and militia. In late-1960, CIA Deputy Director for Plans, Richard Bissell (1909-94), co-authored a cable with Tweedy outlining plans to “provide clandestine support to elements in armed opposition to Lumumba.” Tweedy writes: “The concern with Lumumba was not really the concern with Lumumba as a person,” but with his “effect on the balance of the Continent of a disintegration of the Congo.”

    In July 1960 and in contrast to other, then-classified reports, CIA Director Dulles told the National Security Council: “It is safe to go on the assumption that Lumumba has been bought by the Communists; this also, however, fits with his own orientation.” President Kasavubu wanted no part in Bissell’s plot to kill Lumumba. CIA representative Thomas Parrott (1914-2007) outlined plans to get labor unions to push for a vote of no confidence in Lumumba at the Senate. CIA Station Chief Devlin sent a cable on August 18th 1960: “Difficult [to] determine major influencing factors to predict outcome. [S]truggle for power[. D]ecisive period not far off.”

    Future MI5 Director and then-British Foreign Office civil servant, Sir Howard Smith (1919-96), came up with numerous scenarios for ousting Lumumba: “The first is the simple one of removing him from the scene by killing him.” So-called Queen of Spies, Daphne Park OBE (1921-2010), was an MI6 agent, Special Operations Executive Sergeant, future Somerville College (Oxford) Principal, and later Baroness of Monmouth. Between 1959 and 1961, Sgt. Park was MI6’s Consul and First Secretary in Léopoldville, where she developed close contacts with warring Congolese factions, including the secessionists in Katanga. When asked if MI6 had been involved in Lumumba’s murder, Sgt. Park admitted: “I organised it.”

    In December 1960, Mobutu’s forces captured Lumumba en route to Stanleyville in the north. Mobutu handed Lumumba to the secessionist forces in Katanga. The 34-year-old Lumumba appears to have been murdered in mid-January 1961. To prevent the location of death becoming a pilgrimage site, his body was dissolved in acid.

    Chief Historian of the CIA, David Robarge, says: “Agency [covert action] concentrated on stabilizing and supporting the [post-Lumumba] government of President Joseph Kasavubu and Prime Ministers Cyrille Adoula and Moise Tshombe, with Mobutu as behind-the-scenes power broker.” The CIA paid Mobutu’s soldiers to be loyal. (At the end of Mobutu’s long reign, the Army’s faux loyalty rapidly disintegrated.) Details are not known, but at the time, the CIA also paid politicians to engage in “Parliamentary maneuvering” to support the central regime.

    KILLING HAMMARSKJÖLD

    Mobutu soon dispensed with the façade of democracy. He seized power, filled the regime’s Équateurian elite with ethnic Ngbandi people, and ruled with an iron fist. For instance, André Lubaya (1932-68) was President of Kasaï Province, Economic Minister (1965-68), and founder of the Union Démocratique Africaine. Mobutu accused Lubaya of being part of a coup plot and reportedly had him executed. Between 1963 and ’65, Mobutu crushed the pro-Lumumba Simba (“Lion”) Rebellion in the north. Mobutu placed President Kasavubu (1960-65) under house arrest until Kasavubu’s death in 1969. A CIA report from late-1961 dismisses claims that the quasi-civil war was “part of a Communist master plan” as “not supported by other evidence.”

    The CIA also noted that the killing of U.N. Ghanaian troops by Congo Army soldiers showed the weakness of the 20,000 U.N. peacekeepers in the country. The CIA appeared to agree with the Belgian foreign ministry, that NATO could play a role. U.N. Secretary-General Hammarskjöld “indicated dissatisfaction at pace of Belgian withdrawal from Katanga.” At the close of ‘61, former FBI Agent and ex-corporate lobbyist in Guatemala, Democrat Thomas J. Dodd (1907-71), wrote against Hammarskjöld’s peace efforts at the U.N., falsely arguing that the warring factions in the government were close to sorting out their own affairs. Dodd publicly claimed that the Soviets favored U.N. involvement in Congo to destabilize the country.

    Against this propaganda backdrop, CIA Air Operations began in 1962 as a tactic to raise Mobutu’s profile. They soon extended to tactical support to U.N. peacekeepers and foreign mercenaries. Historian Robarge says that the Congolese Air Forces “existed only because of US assistance.” Six agents oversaw 125 contractors, including 79 foreign pilots.

    The American, Belgian, British, and South African intelligence agencies plotted Operation Celeste: Hammarskjöld’s murder. South African intelligence used a mercenary company called the SA Institute for Maritime Research (SAIMAR). Prior to the murder, Britain’s MI5 and Special Operations Executive (for which Sgt. Park worked) met with SAIMAR.

    Documents, which various authorities have tried to dismiss as forgeries, state: “[United Nations Organization] is becoming troublesome and it is felt that Hammarskjöld should be removed.” CIA Director Dulles “agrees and has promised full cooperation from his people.” Referring to Hammarskjöld and Lumumba, respectively, the author writes: “I want his removal to be handled more efficiently than was Patrice.” SAIMAR arranged to blow up Hammarskjöld’s DC-6 plane with 6lbs of TNT. The bomb failed and a contingency plan involved Hammarskjöld’s plane being shot down by a British-Belgian former Royal Air Force pilot, Jan van Risseghem, known as the Lone Ranger.

    At the time, Rhodesia was part of the waning British Empire. U.S. Naval Officer, Charles Southall, heard intercepted transmissions in which Risseghem said of Hammarskjöld’s plane attempting to land in Rhodesia: “I’m going to go down to make a run on it. Yes, it’s the Transair DC­6. It’s the plane. I’ve hit it. There are flames. It’s going down. It’s crashing.” Now-declassified cables by U.S. Ambassador, Edward Gullion (1913-98), confirmed Risseghem’s presence at the crash site. Former President Harry Truman (1884-1972) later told reporters: “[Hammarskjöld] was on the point of getting something done when they killed him. Notice that I said ‘when they killed him’.”

    Given that Hammarskjöld’s body was photographed with the Ace of Spades death card in his collar, “they” presumably means the CIA.

    REIGN OF TERROR

    With Lumumba and Hammarskjöld out of the way, the CIA beefed up Mobutu’s Army. Katangan secessionists fell in 1963 and most gendarmes fled to Angola, forming the Lunda people-majority’s Congolese National Liberation Front (Front de libération nationale congolaise, FLNC): a group described by the CIA as the only feasible threat to Mobutu.

    Between 1963 and ‘64, revolts and insurrections occurred in Kasais, Kivu, and Kwilu. Led by Pierre Mulele (1929-68), the ethnic Mumbunda, politically Marxist rebels in Kwilu failed to mobilize the locals. Mulele was tortured to death by Mobutu’s forces. Via Station Chief Devlin, the CIA hired British mercenaries, including Col. “Mad Mike” Hoare, to train Mobutu’s forces and crush the rebellions. Mobutu sentenced secessionist Tshombé to death in absentia. Tshombé settled in Franco’s Spain but was captured by the French agent, Francis Bodenan, who took him to French Algeria, where he later died, supposedly of heart failure.

    CIA-backed Congolese Air Force sorties against Cuban and Chinese-trained guerrillas began in February 1964 and continued into ‘66. Operations included assisting Mobutu’s “crackdown” against mutineers in Katanga. With its “pocket navy,” the CIA assisted Mobutu’s counter-rebel maritime operations on Lake Tanganyika on the eastern border, as well as on Lake Albert in the northeast.

    The CIA estimated in mid-1966: “The Cuban presence in Africa is not large.” Even in Congo-Brazzaville, the largest contingent was “a relatively small contribution of Cuban training, materiel, or manpower.” Yet they feared that even this “would somewhat increase [the] potential” of rebel groups. In the same year Mobutu banned the communist-oriented General Confederation of Congolese Workers (Confédération Générale du Travail du Congo). A year later, Mobutu created a single labor union to support his MPR government. The union was the National Union of Workers of Congo/Zaire (Union Nationale des Travailleurs du Zaire). Strikes were outlawed and the labor code non-binding. Mobutu retained control over union-industry relations.

    The U.S. tolerated Mobutu’s nationalization programs because the IMF had, in 1967, imposed financial reforms, and the worst effects of nationalization from U.S. corporations’ perspective was the exodus of Belgian specialists, who could anyway be replaced with U.S. experts. The Équateur region “apparently has no mineral wealth,” thus the CIA permitted nationalization in the early-‘70s.

    Between 1957 and 1972, the number of doctors declined from one in 20,000—already one of the lowest on the Continent—to one in 30,000: one in 50,000 in many rural regions.

    Katangans refused to support an invasion of Angola-based mercenaries. The CIA reckoned that the Simba insurgency was “little more than banditry.” By 1970, the CIA was quite impressed with Mobutu. “[He] has given his country better internal security and political stability … He has gone far toward remaking an unruly army into a fairly effective counterinsurgency force, and the once-formidable rebel bands have been whittled down to small groups of fugitives.” It added that Mobutu’s politics “will not give voters a real choice of candidates.” In 1971, Mobutu changed the name of the country to Zaire and, within a year, Katanga was renamed Shaba (“copper”).

    By early-1973, the CIA was confident that Shaba with its all-important minerals was under the “unchallenged authority” of Mobutu.

    An undated CIA memo notes that, “without Shaba’s wealth Zaire would not be a viable entity.” Formed from the remnants of the Katangan gendarmerie, the Angola-based FLNC periodically attempted to take Shaba (Katanga). In March 1977, the FLNC took over the major towns, but received no support from the general public in Katanga. The U.S., France, and Belgium sent troops to the region.

    Another invasion in 1978 failed when the U.S. aided 1,200 Belgian airborne rescue personnel as French Legionnaires fought the rebels. A government official was killed and the attack blamed on ethnic Mumbunda. In the southern town Idiofa, 350 Mumbunda were murdered in revenge and 12 Kimbanguist Christians hanged. At the end of the decade in the diamond-rich region of Kasaï, the Defense Intelligence Agency says: “soldiers massacred hundreds of students and miners in the region.” In 1980, 60 people in Bas-Zaire (now Kongo Central in the west) were arrested for forming an opposition party. In the same year, Mobutu arrested and exiled former Parliamentarians who were trying to form a new authority in Katanga.

    U.S. diplomat and future executive director of the World Bank, Bob Keating (1924-2012), wrote to CIA Director, Admiral Stansfield Turner (1923-2018), about Zaire, in which Keating was heading the Mobutu-initiated Committee for Industrial Development. “[I]t is the policy of the United States to help stabilize the political and economic situation.” Keating writes: “Large sums of money will be spent for this purpose over the next three years through emergency programs of foreign aid and investment.”

    A March 1979 assessment notes that “The Zairian Army (FAZ) is more a menace to the country’s civilian population than a threat to any outside force.” It describes Zaire as “a military regime with a civilian façade,” as well as Mobutu’s loosening grip on power and the absence of suitable successors. Drought in Bas-Zaire caused serious food shortages. Internal opposition was “non-existent” and European-based opponents “divided and weak.” The CIA feared “spontaneous uprisings” in Kinshasa and Shaba (Katanga). “Without continued external economic and military support, the President’s rule would deteriorate even more rapidly … There are no readily identifiable potential successors.”

    Military assistance continued to pour into Zaire.

    INTO THE ‘80s: FATALISM

    The CIA notes that by the 1980s, Zaire was a hub for international military training. Belgian forces mainly concentrated on training commandos in Kinshasa, Kota Koli, and Shaba. Chinese advisers provided small arms and training. Egyptian personnel trained and armed the military. French paratroopers equipped armored units, including the Air Force. Israelis aided the Special Presidential Brigades. West Germany exported communications equipment and soldiers.

    The U.S. spent millions of dollars “to finance most of the country’s inventory of military vehicles, nearly all of its airlift capability …, some naval craft, and much of the … communications equipment.” This was conducted under the International Military Education Training Program.

    A June 1980 CIA report notes that: “US strategic interests in Zaire, along with those of most other industrial powers outside the Communist world, are influenced by their almost total reliance on imported cobalt and by Zaire’s prominent role in supply of this critical metal.”

    Shaba alone accounted for 60 percent of Zaire’s foreign exchange earnings. In 1982, the Directorate of Intelligence reported “conditions that appear worse than at any time since the turbulent years just after the country became independent”: debt servicing burdens, stagflation, and unemployment. Even if an anti-Mobutu coup had taken place, “Zaire probably would remain Western oriented and would continue to depend on the West or assistance and markets for its mineral exports.”

    In the early-80s, Mobutu imposed austerity in response to currency devaluation and trade imbalances. “There may be future protest by mineworkers, students, and civil servants, but Mobutu remains firmly in control.” The CIA notes that “the majority of the population has apparently adopted a fatalistic attitude towards hard times.” But fatalism was not to last. By the mid-‘80s, the CIA was reporting that “Cutbacks in education have provoked strikes at a number of universities … leading Mobutu to close several campuses and arrest some students and teachers.” These conditions “could set the stage for open unrest among various domestic interest groups.” A redacted section notes Mobutu’s opposition to “US plans to sell cobalt from [Zaire’s] strategic stockpile, claiming this would drive the world price down.”

    CONCLUSION: THE CONGO WARS

    The CIA’s publicly-available Congo record dries up in the 1980s. By the early-‘90s, internal and external tensions, including a politically active public and conflicts on the border, pushed Mobutu’s regime to the brink. The dictator was abroad for health treatment when an old Katanga rival, Laurent Kabila (1939-2001), triggered the first of the Congo Wars (1996-97 and ’98-2003) and deposed Mobutu. The nation went from the agonies of dictatorship to the trauma of genocidal war. Western corporations and consumers continue to benefit from cheap coltan. The CIA’s mission was complete.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • The Belgian colonizers transformed Congo into a slave-state for rubber and ivory. So-called Congo Free State (État indépendant du Congo) existed as a private colony of King Leopold II (1835-1909) until the Belgian government took over in 1908. Belgian rule killed an estimated 10 million people. Post-independence, the country split into what is now the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC, known for a time as Zaire,) and the Republic of Congo (a.k.a., Congo-Brazzaville).

    This article mainly concerns the DRC, which has a population of 91 million. With a GDP of just $50 billion a year and an extreme poverty rate of over 70 percent, it is one of the poorest nations on Earth. The infant mortality rate is 66 per 1,000 live births—one of the worst in the world, life expectancy is 60 years, and per 100k people maternal mortality is over 690. Conflicts from 1996 to the present, plus the resultant malnutrition and disease, have killed six million people.

    Like their Franco-Belgian predecessors, the main interest of U.S. imperialists in DRC, on which this article focuses is Katanga, the uranium- and coltan-rich, south-eastern region that borders Angola and Zambia.

    THE MINE

    Congolese were not passive victims. Although 80 percent of the population is Bantu, DRC has some 200 ethnic communities. The majority of other groups include Kongo, Luba, Lunda, and Mongo. Belgian hegemons struggled to force the diverse country to accept a national identity. For instance, in 1920s’ Kinshasa, the Simonist Christian movement, Kimbanguism, encouraged resistance to the Europeans. A decade later, the ethnic Bapende (a.k.a., Pende) went on strike in Kwilu Province in the west of the country.

    Secessionist Katanga in the south contained uranium deposits, particularly at Shinkolobwe. The mine was owned by Belgium’s Union Minière, in which the UK had investments. The best U.S. and Canadian uranium mines typically yielded 0.03 percent uranium per ore deposit. Shinkolobwe’s uranium averaged 65 percent, making it unique. Uranium at the mine was used in the all-important nuclear weapons industry. Western intelligence agencies wanted to deprive the Soviets of access.

    The U.S. struck a secret deal with Union Minière to supply uranium for use in the Manhattan Project (1942-46). The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, which also initially headed the Manhattan Project, set up base at Shinkolobwe to drain the mine and export the uranium. The bombs that murdered hundreds of thousands of Japanese civilians at Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945 were built with uranium extracted from Shinkolobwe.

    The CIA opened a desk in Léopoldville (now Kinshasa the capital) in 1951. From Kwilu and other Provinces (then “districts”) grew the Parti Solidaire Africain (African Mutual Party), a leftish, pro-independence movement led by future PM Antoine Gizenga (1925-2019). Gizenga allied with Patrice Lumumba’s Congolese National Movement (Mouvement national Congolais, MNC), founded in 1958 and whose members included Joseph-Désiré Mobutu (1930-97).

    Mobutu (later Mobutu Sese Seko) was a high-ranking Army officer and asset of the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency. A CIA report from November 1959 bemoans the lack of control by the Belgian authorities. This led the way for “political groups [that] want immediate independence, while tribal leaders [are] interested primarily perpetuating [their] own local authority.” The CIA describes this as Congo’s “absence [of] responsible African leadership.” The Washington Post writes that “Mobutu first became an ‘asset’ of the CIA in 1959 during a meeting in Brussels,” but gives no further details.

    Future President Joseph Kasavubu (1915-69) led the ethnic ABAKO party (Association des BaKongo), which the Belgians banned. Under Prime Minister Lumumba’s MNC umbrella, Kasavubu became President and Gizenga Deputy PM. Sgt-Maj. Mobutu continued to lead the Army (Force Publique). The Parti Solidaire Africain began to fall apart as the MNC declared Congo’s independence from Belgium on June 30th, 1960. The Force Publique was renamed Congolese Army (Armée Nationale Congolaise, ANC).

    LUMUMBA: “AVOID ANOTHER CUBA”

    The U.S. State Department’s Office of the Historian writes that the Dwight D. Eisenhower administration (1953-61) “had high hopes that [Congo] would form a stable, pro-Western, central government. Those hopes vanished in a matter of days as the newly independent nation descended into chaos.” It notes that, “[w]hile the United States supported the U.N. effort, members of the Eisenhower administration [grew] increasingly concerned that the Congo crisis would provide an opening for Soviet intervention.”

    Mobutu refused to back Lumumba’s government. Moïse Tshombé (1919-69) co-founded the Confederation of Tribal Associations of Katanga (Confédération des associations tribales du Katanga, CONAKAT). In July 1960, Tshombé declared Katanga independent from Congo. The Belgian colonizers figured that if they couldn’t control Congo, they could at least retain the most important region.

    U.S. Director of Central Intelligence, John McCone (1902-91) was a businessman sent to lead the Agency by President Kennedy after the Bay of Pigs debacle (1961). Against the wishes of Ambassador G. McMurtrie Godley (1917-99), McCone insisted on continuing U.S. covert operations in Congo, particularly fostering closer relations with Tshombé. McCone told Secretary of State Dean Rusk (1909-94): “we should not be deterred from this by the persuasion of do-gooders, by reactions from African states in the United Nations who didn’t like us anyway.”

    Under United Nations Security Council Resolution 143 (1960), the U.N., led by Secretary-General Dag Hammarskjöld (1905-61), demanded the withdrawal of Belgian troops and sent armed forces. Lumumba pushed Hammarskjöld to use the forces to quell Tshombé rebellion, but Hammarskjöld refused and PM Lumumba (1925-61) sought military assistance from the Soviets.

    In 1960, the CIA’s Station Chief in Léopoldville, Lawrence Devlin (1922-2008, alias Victor Hedgman or Hedgeman), cabled Washington. “[Congo is] experiencing classic communist effort [to] takeover government. Whether or not Lumumba actually [is a] commie or just playing commie game[s] to assist solidifying power, anti-West forces [are] rapidly increasing power … [T]here may be little time left in which take action [to] avoid another Cuba.”

    In May, the CIA admitted that there are “no known Communists among Congo leaders,” but the Agency suspected sympathies. It acknowledged that “post-independence [Soviet] bloc aid may push Congo toward bloc-oriented neutralism.” The CIA wanted Congo in the U.S. sphere, not neutral. Contrary to the mythology pushed the likes of CIA Director Allen Dulles (1893-1969) and Léopoldville Station Chief Devlin, that Lumumba was a Soviet asset, a July 1960 National Security Council briefing notes that “Lumumba wants aid from any and all quarters; he is therefore not anxious to burn his bridges to [the] West.” The CIA was there to do that for him.

    Another NSC briefing regarded Belgium’s attitude towards Katangan independence as ambiguous because secessionist Tshombé could be used as a proxy against Lumumba. “Brussels [is] anxious to protect its investments in Katanga and probably views Lumumba as a budding Castro.”

    CIA Director Dulles and Chief of the Africa Division (clandestine services), Bronson Tweedy (1914-2004), believed that Lumumba’s existence would lead to “disastrous consequences for the prestige of the UN and for the interests of the free world generally.” Dulles gave his officers permission to act without the consent of Ambassadors: “Time does not permit referral here.” (Cable likely drafted by Tweedy, signed by Dulles).

    KILLING LUMUMBA: “I ORGANISED IT”

    Aside from the spectacular and unrealized plots to poison Lumumba with toxins invented by the CIA’s poisoner-in-chief Sidney Gottlieb (a.k.a., Joseph Scheider, 1918-99), practical CIA operations saw covert support for anti-Lumumba politicians and militia. In late-1960, CIA Deputy Director for Plans, Richard Bissell (1909-94), co-authored a cable with Tweedy outlining plans to “provide clandestine support to elements in armed opposition to Lumumba.” Tweedy writes: “The concern with Lumumba was not really the concern with Lumumba as a person,” but with his “effect on the balance of the Continent of a disintegration of the Congo.”

    In July 1960 and in contrast to other, then-classified reports, CIA Director Dulles told the National Security Council: “It is safe to go on the assumption that Lumumba has been bought by the Communists; this also, however, fits with his own orientation.” President Kasavubu wanted no part in Bissell’s plot to kill Lumumba. CIA representative Thomas Parrott (1914-2007) outlined plans to get labor unions to push for a vote of no confidence in Lumumba at the Senate. CIA Station Chief Devlin sent a cable on August 18th 1960: “Difficult [to] determine major influencing factors to predict outcome. [S]truggle for power[. D]ecisive period not far off.”

    Future MI5 Director and then-British Foreign Office civil servant, Sir Howard Smith (1919-96), came up with numerous scenarios for ousting Lumumba: “The first is the simple one of removing him from the scene by killing him.” So-called Queen of Spies, Daphne Park OBE (1921-2010), was an MI6 agent, Special Operations Executive Sergeant, future Somerville College (Oxford) Principal, and later Baroness of Monmouth. Between 1959 and 1961, Sgt. Park was MI6’s Consul and First Secretary in Léopoldville, where she developed close contacts with warring Congolese factions, including the secessionists in Katanga. When asked if MI6 had been involved in Lumumba’s murder, Sgt. Park admitted: “I organised it.”

    In December 1960, Mobutu’s forces captured Lumumba en route to Stanleyville in the north. Mobutu handed Lumumba to the secessionist forces in Katanga. The 34-year-old Lumumba appears to have been murdered in mid-January 1961. To prevent the location of death becoming a pilgrimage site, his body was dissolved in acid.

    Chief Historian of the CIA, David Robarge, says: “Agency [covert action] concentrated on stabilizing and supporting the [post-Lumumba] government of President Joseph Kasavubu and Prime Ministers Cyrille Adoula and Moise Tshombe, with Mobutu as behind-the-scenes power broker.” The CIA paid Mobutu’s soldiers to be loyal. (At the end of Mobutu’s long reign, the Army’s faux loyalty rapidly disintegrated.) Details are not known, but at the time, the CIA also paid politicians to engage in “Parliamentary maneuvering” to support the central regime.

    KILLING HAMMARSKJÖLD

    Mobutu soon dispensed with the façade of democracy. He seized power, filled the regime’s Équateurian elite with ethnic Ngbandi people, and ruled with an iron fist. For instance, André Lubaya (1932-68) was President of Kasaï Province, Economic Minister (1965-68), and founder of the Union Démocratique Africaine. Mobutu accused Lubaya of being part of a coup plot and reportedly had him executed. Between 1963 and ’65, Mobutu crushed the pro-Lumumba Simba (“Lion”) Rebellion in the north. Mobutu placed President Kasavubu (1960-65) under house arrest until Kasavubu’s death in 1969. A CIA report from late-1961 dismisses claims that the quasi-civil war was “part of a Communist master plan” as “not supported by other evidence.”

    The CIA also noted that the killing of U.N. Ghanaian troops by Congo Army soldiers showed the weakness of the 20,000 U.N. peacekeepers in the country. The CIA appeared to agree with the Belgian foreign ministry, that NATO could play a role. U.N. Secretary-General Hammarskjöld “indicated dissatisfaction at pace of Belgian withdrawal from Katanga.” At the close of ‘61, former FBI Agent and ex-corporate lobbyist in Guatemala, Democrat Thomas J. Dodd (1907-71), wrote against Hammarskjöld’s peace efforts at the U.N., falsely arguing that the warring factions in the government were close to sorting out their own affairs. Dodd publicly claimed that the Soviets favored U.N. involvement in Congo to destabilize the country.

    Against this propaganda backdrop, CIA Air Operations began in 1962 as a tactic to raise Mobutu’s profile. They soon extended to tactical support to U.N. peacekeepers and foreign mercenaries. Historian Robarge says that the Congolese Air Forces “existed only because of US assistance.” Six agents oversaw 125 contractors, including 79 foreign pilots.

    The American, Belgian, British, and South African intelligence agencies plotted Operation Celeste: Hammarskjöld’s murder. South African intelligence used a mercenary company called the SA Institute for Maritime Research (SAIMAR). Prior to the murder, Britain’s MI5 and Special Operations Executive (for which Sgt. Park worked) met with SAIMAR.

    Documents, which various authorities have tried to dismiss as forgeries, state: “[United Nations Organization] is becoming troublesome and it is felt that Hammarskjöld should be removed.” CIA Director Dulles “agrees and has promised full cooperation from his people.” Referring to Hammarskjöld and Lumumba, respectively, the author writes: “I want his removal to be handled more efficiently than was Patrice.” SAIMAR arranged to blow up Hammarskjöld’s DC-6 plane with 6lbs of TNT. The bomb failed and a contingency plan involved Hammarskjöld’s plane being shot down by a British-Belgian former Royal Air Force pilot, Jan van Risseghem, known as the Lone Ranger.

    At the time, Rhodesia was part of the waning British Empire. U.S. Naval Officer, Charles Southall, heard intercepted transmissions in which Risseghem said of Hammarskjöld’s plane attempting to land in Rhodesia: “I’m going to go down to make a run on it. Yes, it’s the Transair DC­6. It’s the plane. I’ve hit it. There are flames. It’s going down. It’s crashing.” Now-declassified cables by U.S. Ambassador, Edward Gullion (1913-98), confirmed Risseghem’s presence at the crash site. Former President Harry Truman (1884-1972) later told reporters: “[Hammarskjöld] was on the point of getting something done when they killed him. Notice that I said ‘when they killed him’.”

    Given that Hammarskjöld’s body was photographed with the Ace of Spades death card in his collar, “they” presumably means the CIA.

    REIGN OF TERROR

    With Lumumba and Hammarskjöld out of the way, the CIA beefed up Mobutu’s Army. Katangan secessionists fell in 1963 and most gendarmes fled to Angola, forming the Lunda people-majority’s Congolese National Liberation Front (Front de libération nationale congolaise, FLNC): a group described by the CIA as the only feasible threat to Mobutu.

    Between 1963 and ‘64, revolts and insurrections occurred in Kasais, Kivu, and Kwilu. Led by Pierre Mulele (1929-68), the ethnic Mumbunda, politically Marxist rebels in Kwilu failed to mobilize the locals. Mulele was tortured to death by Mobutu’s forces. Via Station Chief Devlin, the CIA hired British mercenaries, including Col. “Mad Mike” Hoare, to train Mobutu’s forces and crush the rebellions. Mobutu sentenced secessionist Tshombé to death in absentia. Tshombé settled in Franco’s Spain but was captured by the French agent, Francis Bodenan, who took him to French Algeria, where he later died, supposedly of heart failure.

    CIA-backed Congolese Air Force sorties against Cuban and Chinese-trained guerrillas began in February 1964 and continued into ‘66. Operations included assisting Mobutu’s “crackdown” against mutineers in Katanga. With its “pocket navy,” the CIA assisted Mobutu’s counter-rebel maritime operations on Lake Tanganyika on the eastern border, as well as on Lake Albert in the northeast.

    The CIA estimated in mid-1966: “The Cuban presence in Africa is not large.” Even in Congo-Brazzaville, the largest contingent was “a relatively small contribution of Cuban training, materiel, or manpower.” Yet they feared that even this “would somewhat increase [the] potential” of rebel groups. In the same year Mobutu banned the communist-oriented General Confederation of Congolese Workers (Confédération Générale du Travail du Congo). A year later, Mobutu created a single labor union to support his MPR government. The union was the National Union of Workers of Congo/Zaire (Union Nationale des Travailleurs du Zaire). Strikes were outlawed and the labor code non-binding. Mobutu retained control over union-industry relations.

    The U.S. tolerated Mobutu’s nationalization programs because the IMF had, in 1967, imposed financial reforms, and the worst effects of nationalization from U.S. corporations’ perspective was the exodus of Belgian specialists, who could anyway be replaced with U.S. experts. The Équateur region “apparently has no mineral wealth,” thus the CIA permitted nationalization in the early-‘70s.

    Between 1957 and 1972, the number of doctors declined from one in 20,000—already one of the lowest on the Continent—to one in 30,000: one in 50,000 in many rural regions.

    Katangans refused to support an invasion of Angola-based mercenaries. The CIA reckoned that the Simba insurgency was “little more than banditry.” By 1970, the CIA was quite impressed with Mobutu. “[He] has given his country better internal security and political stability … He has gone far toward remaking an unruly army into a fairly effective counterinsurgency force, and the once-formidable rebel bands have been whittled down to small groups of fugitives.” It added that Mobutu’s politics “will not give voters a real choice of candidates.” In 1971, Mobutu changed the name of the country to Zaire and, within a year, Katanga was renamed Shaba (“copper”).

    By early-1973, the CIA was confident that Shaba with its all-important minerals was under the “unchallenged authority” of Mobutu.

    An undated CIA memo notes that, “without Shaba’s wealth Zaire would not be a viable entity.” Formed from the remnants of the Katangan gendarmerie, the Angola-based FLNC periodically attempted to take Shaba (Katanga). In March 1977, the FLNC took over the major towns, but received no support from the general public in Katanga. The U.S., France, and Belgium sent troops to the region.

    Another invasion in 1978 failed when the U.S. aided 1,200 Belgian airborne rescue personnel as French Legionnaires fought the rebels. A government official was killed and the attack blamed on ethnic Mumbunda. In the southern town Idiofa, 350 Mumbunda were murdered in revenge and 12 Kimbanguist Christians hanged. At the end of the decade in the diamond-rich region of Kasaï, the Defense Intelligence Agency says: “soldiers massacred hundreds of students and miners in the region.” In 1980, 60 people in Bas-Zaire (now Kongo Central in the west) were arrested for forming an opposition party. In the same year, Mobutu arrested and exiled former Parliamentarians who were trying to form a new authority in Katanga.

    U.S. diplomat and future executive director of the World Bank, Bob Keating (1924-2012), wrote to CIA Director, Admiral Stansfield Turner (1923-2018), about Zaire, in which Keating was heading the Mobutu-initiated Committee for Industrial Development. “[I]t is the policy of the United States to help stabilize the political and economic situation.” Keating writes: “Large sums of money will be spent for this purpose over the next three years through emergency programs of foreign aid and investment.”

    A March 1979 assessment notes that “The Zairian Army (FAZ) is more a menace to the country’s civilian population than a threat to any outside force.” It describes Zaire as “a military regime with a civilian façade,” as well as Mobutu’s loosening grip on power and the absence of suitable successors. Drought in Bas-Zaire caused serious food shortages. Internal opposition was “non-existent” and European-based opponents “divided and weak.” The CIA feared “spontaneous uprisings” in Kinshasa and Shaba (Katanga). “Without continued external economic and military support, the President’s rule would deteriorate even more rapidly … There are no readily identifiable potential successors.”

    Military assistance continued to pour into Zaire.

    INTO THE ‘80s: FATALISM

    The CIA notes that by the 1980s, Zaire was a hub for international military training. Belgian forces mainly concentrated on training commandos in Kinshasa, Kota Koli, and Shaba. Chinese advisers provided small arms and training. Egyptian personnel trained and armed the military. French paratroopers equipped armored units, including the Air Force. Israelis aided the Special Presidential Brigades. West Germany exported communications equipment and soldiers.

    The U.S. spent millions of dollars “to finance most of the country’s inventory of military vehicles, nearly all of its airlift capability …, some naval craft, and much of the … communications equipment.” This was conducted under the International Military Education Training Program.

    A June 1980 CIA report notes that: “US strategic interests in Zaire, along with those of most other industrial powers outside the Communist world, are influenced by their almost total reliance on imported cobalt and by Zaire’s prominent role in supply of this critical metal.”

    Shaba alone accounted for 60 percent of Zaire’s foreign exchange earnings. In 1982, the Directorate of Intelligence reported “conditions that appear worse than at any time since the turbulent years just after the country became independent”: debt servicing burdens, stagflation, and unemployment. Even if an anti-Mobutu coup had taken place, “Zaire probably would remain Western oriented and would continue to depend on the West or assistance and markets for its mineral exports.”

    In the early-80s, Mobutu imposed austerity in response to currency devaluation and trade imbalances. “There may be future protest by mineworkers, students, and civil servants, but Mobutu remains firmly in control.” The CIA notes that “the majority of the population has apparently adopted a fatalistic attitude towards hard times.” But fatalism was not to last. By the mid-‘80s, the CIA was reporting that “Cutbacks in education have provoked strikes at a number of universities … leading Mobutu to close several campuses and arrest some students and teachers.” These conditions “could set the stage for open unrest among various domestic interest groups.” A redacted section notes Mobutu’s opposition to “US plans to sell cobalt from [Zaire’s] strategic stockpile, claiming this would drive the world price down.”

    CONCLUSION: THE CONGO WARS

    The CIA’s publicly-available Congo record dries up in the 1980s. By the early-‘90s, internal and external tensions, including a politically active public and conflicts on the border, pushed Mobutu’s regime to the brink. The dictator was abroad for health treatment when an old Katanga rival, Laurent Kabila (1939-2001), triggered the first of the Congo Wars (1996-97 and ’98-2003) and deposed Mobutu. The nation went from the agonies of dictatorship to the trauma of genocidal war. Western corporations and consumers continue to benefit from cheap coltan. The CIA’s mission was complete.

    The post A History of the CIA in Congo (Zaire) appeared first on CounterPunch.org.

    This post was originally published on CounterPunch.org.

  • The circumstances under which you watch a film invariably affect the experience. Watching Kazuhiko Hasegawa’s The Man Who Stole the Sun (1979) in the middle of America’s COVID-19 pandemic as well as the race protests certainly shaped how I viewed what is, at first glance, a critique of Japanese culture’s tendency to blindly obey. Written by an American ex-pat and directed by a Japanese rebel filmmaker, it is a fascinating cultural hybrid. The two perspectives elevate the film to a breezy, angry and universal meditation on power and obedience.

    The film follows Makoto Kido, a bored high school science teacher who seems to be sleepwalking through a lonely life in an overcrowded Tokyo. We first meet him with his face smashed against the window of an overflowing subway car. A bit of a Japanese Travis Bickle, one might say. Early on in the film we see him fiddling with an idea for what will eventually become his diabolical plan but based on the man’s lazy attitude, it feels like mere daydreaming.

    He is suddenly shaken out of his ennui when, on a field trip, he and his students are taken hostage by a veteran of the Imperial Army who demands a meeting with the Emperor. Kido assists Yamashita, a square-jawed detective in taking the hijacker down and the two are hailed as heroes in the process. This act of rebellion proves contagious and Kido puts a plan in motion to build his own atomic bomb. Following a ridiculous action sequence wherein he steals plutonium, the film settles into a proto-Lo-Fi Hip Hop mood of hanging out with Kido as he crafts an unholy weapon of mass destruction, dancing to Bob Marley and even kicking the bomb around like a soccer ball.

    The rub occurs when he announces what he’s done to the authorities. They ask for his demands and Kido finds himself at a loss. The only things he can think to demand are fixes to the small annoyances like having the local tv station let the baseball game play uninterrupted by nightly news. The government concedes and Kido’s confidence grows, next demanding The Rolling Stones play Tokyo for the first time. This draws the attention of a plucky radio DJ named Zero who finds the story novel enough to inject herself into the action and play it out for the ratings. At the request of Kido, Detective Yamashita is assigned to the case and the rest of the film plays out as an ever-ratcheting-up series of cat and mouse between the three.

    A still from The Man Who Stole the Sun.

    Screenwriter Leonard Schrader, brother of Taxi Driver scribe Paul Schrader, had moved to Japan in the 1960s in order to avoid being drafted. He taught English, married a Japanese woman and even wrote the Sydney Pollack film The Yakuza with his brother. He came up with the story for Sun by observing the Japanese’s tendency to follow the rules without pushback, even when things rarely worked the way they should. This was in stark contrast to America’s knee jerk reaction to question authority, though I suspect he was also venting some of his frustrations about his strict Midwest Calvinist upbringing. There’s an undeniable irony to the fact that Leonard’s act of draft-dodging rebellion in America brought him to a nation known for its rule-following.

    Apparently Dustin Hoffman originally showed interest in the script but Schrader wisely went with Kazuhiko Hasegawa. A large part of Schrader’s decision had to do with Hasegawa experiencing the atomic bombing of Hiroshima, albeit inside his mother’s womb at the time. In much the same way that Mary Haron was the perfect woman to tow the line between horror and humor in her adaptation of the notoriously misogynistic American Psycho, so too did Hasegawa understand the dark humor of a homegrown Japanese A-bomb. He was a veteran of iconoclast auteur Shohei Imamura as well as the Nikatsu Roman Pornos. As such, the film toes the line between pulp and near-avant garde.

    Hasegawa was responsible for many of the film’s most crucial and daring elements. Chief among them was the decision to have Kido contract radiation poisoning in the process of his bomb-making. Given the fantastical action-movie nature of the second half of the film, the stark reality of the hero’s slow decay feels truly subversive. The lighthearted tone about a terrorist is reminiscent of Lindsay Anderson’s satirical If…. in the wake of so many school shootings. Yet, somehow it all works, perhaps because of these sharp tonal contrasts.

    The film’s most incisive note is that once Kato possesses the same power as giant nation states, he’s unable to wrap his head around what to do with it. While Schrader’s original idea was a humorous jab at Japanese culture, Hasegawa focuses on a larger existential problem faced by most people in a modern, globalized world. Kato is so starved of any real power in his life, that when he is actually able to affect change, all he can think to demand are trivial things. Even the Stones concert is something Kido has to crowdsource with the help of Zero.

    Speaking of Zero, although she becomes Kido’s ally and even helps him recover the bomb, she and Detective Yamashita suffer the same inner emptiness. Yamashita leans into the old-world virtues of blind duty and obedience. So much so that by the end of the film he’s morphed into a comically unstoppable Terminator-like justice enforcer. Zero, on the other hand, is a slave to the ratings and is willing to assist in a potential nuclear holocaust, all with a smile and looking great without any clear human reflection on what her actions enact.

    In a way, the character arc of Kido is a man who, in creating this weapon, finally sees just how large the power vacuum is in his life and the rest of the film is him inching closer to this edge of self-realization. For this reason, the bomb itself is viewed as a rather positive entity. That which gives Kido power, but also a life straight out of a spy-thriller. Imagine an American film framing a terrorist and his weapon of mass destruction in a positive light and you start to see just how radical The Man Who Stole the Sun was at the time and still feels.

    Watching it from my shut-in room in Los Angeles, police helicopters constantly zooming overhead, the film had a powerful effect. Watching my country buck and fight on both sides of the political spectrum, Hasegawa’s commentary on power still rings true. Americans can buck and scream about freedom all we want, none of that means anything unless you know what to do with it.

    The post The Man Who Stole the Sun appeared first on CounterPunch.org.

    This post was originally published on CounterPunch.org.

  • The circumstances under which you watch a film invariably affect the experience. Watching Kazuhiko Hasegawa’s The Man Who Stole the Sun (1979) in the middle of America’s COVID-19 pandemic as well as the race protests certainly shaped how I viewed what is, at first glance, a critique of Japanese culture’s tendency to blindly obey. Written by an American ex-pat and directed by a Japanese rebel filmmaker, it is a fascinating cultural hybrid. The two perspectives elevate the film to a breezy, angry and universal meditation on power and obedience.

    The film follows Makoto Kido, a bored high school science teacher who seems to be sleepwalking through a lonely life in an overcrowded Tokyo. We first meet him with his face smashed against the window of an overflowing subway car. A bit of a Japanese Travis Bickle, one might say. Early on in the film we see him fiddling with an idea for what will eventually become his diabolical plan but based on the man’s lazy attitude, it feels like mere daydreaming.

    He is suddenly shaken out of his ennui when, on a field trip, he and his students are taken hostage by a veteran of the Imperial Army who demands a meeting with the Emperor. Kido assists Yamashita, a square-jawed detective in taking the hijacker down and the two are hailed as heroes in the process. This act of rebellion proves contagious and Kido puts a plan in motion to build his own atomic bomb. Following a ridiculous action sequence wherein he steals plutonium, the film settles into a proto-Lo-Fi Hip Hop mood of hanging out with Kido as he crafts an unholy weapon of mass destruction, dancing to Bob Marley and even kicking the bomb around like a soccer ball.

    The rub occurs when he announces what he’s done to the authorities. They ask for his demands and Kido finds himself at a loss. The only things he can think to demand are fixes to the small annoyances like having the local tv station let the baseball game play uninterrupted by nightly news. The government concedes and Kido’s confidence grows, next demanding The Rolling Stones play Tokyo for the first time. This draws the attention of a plucky radio DJ named Zero who finds the story novel enough to inject herself into the action and play it out for the ratings. At the request of Kido, Detective Yamashita is assigned to the case and the rest of the film plays out as an ever-ratcheting-up series of cat and mouse between the three.

    A still from The Man Who Stole the Sun.

    Screenwriter Leonard Schrader, brother of Taxi Driver scribe Paul Schrader, had moved to Japan in the 1960s in order to avoid being drafted. He taught English, married a Japanese woman and even wrote the Sydney Pollack film The Yakuza with his brother. He came up with the story for Sun by observing the Japanese’s tendency to follow the rules without pushback, even when things rarely worked the way they should. This was in stark contrast to America’s knee jerk reaction to question authority, though I suspect he was also venting some of his frustrations about his strict Midwest Calvinist upbringing. There’s an undeniable irony to the fact that Leonard’s act of draft-dodging rebellion in America brought him to a nation known for its rule-following.

    Apparently Dustin Hoffman originally showed interest in the script but Schrader wisely went with Kazuhiko Hasegawa. A large part of Schrader’s decision had to do with Hasegawa experiencing the atomic bombing of Hiroshima, albeit inside his mother’s womb at the time. In much the same way that Mary Haron was the perfect woman to tow the line between horror and humor in her adaptation of the notoriously misogynistic American Psycho, so too did Hasegawa understand the dark humor of a homegrown Japanese A-bomb. He was a veteran of iconoclast auteur Shohei Imamura as well as the Nikatsu Roman Pornos. As such, the film toes the line between pulp and near-avant garde.

    Hasegawa was responsible for many of the film’s most crucial and daring elements. Chief among them was the decision to have Kido contract radiation poisoning in the process of his bomb-making. Given the fantastical action-movie nature of the second half of the film, the stark reality of the hero’s slow decay feels truly subversive. The lighthearted tone about a terrorist is reminiscent of Lindsay Anderson’s satirical If…. in the wake of so many school shootings. Yet, somehow it all works, perhaps because of these sharp tonal contrasts.

    The film’s most incisive note is that once Kato possesses the same power as giant nation states, he’s unable to wrap his head around what to do with it. While Schrader’s original idea was a humorous jab at Japanese culture, Hasegawa focuses on a larger existential problem faced by most people in a modern, globalized world. Kato is so starved of any real power in his life, that when he is actually able to affect change, all he can think to demand are trivial things. Even the Stones concert is something Kido has to crowdsource with the help of Zero.

    Speaking of Zero, although she becomes Kido’s ally and even helps him recover the bomb, she and Detective Yamashita suffer the same inner emptiness. Yamashita leans into the old-world virtues of blind duty and obedience. So much so that by the end of the film he’s morphed into a comically unstoppable Terminator-like justice enforcer. Zero, on the other hand, is a slave to the ratings and is willing to assist in a potential nuclear holocaust, all with a smile and looking great without any clear human reflection on what her actions enact.

    In a way, the character arc of Kido is a man who, in creating this weapon, finally sees just how large the power vacuum is in his life and the rest of the film is him inching closer to this edge of self-realization. For this reason, the bomb itself is viewed as a rather positive entity. That which gives Kido power, but also a life straight out of a spy-thriller. Imagine an American film framing a terrorist and his weapon of mass destruction in a positive light and you start to see just how radical The Man Who Stole the Sun was at the time and still feels.

    Watching it from my shut-in room in Los Angeles, police helicopters constantly zooming overhead, the film had a powerful effect. Watching my country buck and fight on both sides of the political spectrum, Hasegawa’s commentary on power still rings true. Americans can buck and scream about freedom all we want, none of that means anything unless you know what to do with it.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • It is not unusual for critics of United States foreign policy, whether or not they feel free to use the term “imperialism,” to express regret that a previously rational system has soured. Such sentiments are routine for liberals and hardly unknown among social democrats.

    Such sentiments are, to anyone who cares to pursue a study of history, quite ahistorical. Violence, force and coercion — exemplified in widespread use of slave labor, imperialist conquests of peoples around the world and ruthless extraction of natural resources — pervades the entire history of capitalism. The rise of capitalism can’t be understood outside slavery, colonialism and plunder. To follow up on my previous article discussing how U.S. domination of the world is rooted in the stranglehold Washington has over the world’s financial institutions and its possession of the dominant currency, let’s conduct a further examination of the history of how capitalism functions, this time highlighting imperialism and violence.

    My inspiration for this examination is my recent reading of John Perkins’ Confessions of an Economic Hit Man. Mr. Perkins, for those not familiar with his book, provides a first-hand account of how the U.S. government employs debt, financial entanglements, bribes, threats and finally violence and assassinations of national leaders who won’t place their economies and resources under the control of U.S.-based multi-national corporations. That is no surprise to anyone paying attention, but the book became an improbable best seller, meaning there must have been many eyes opened. That can only be a positive development.

    But even Mr. Perkins, who is unsparing in drawing conclusions and under no illusions about what he and his fellow “economic hit men” were doing and on whose behalf, shows a measure of naïveté. He repeatedly draws upon the “ideals of the U.S. founding fathers” and laments that a republic dedicated to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” has morphed into a global empire. Given the outstanding service he has provided in writing his book, and the physical danger that he put himself in to publish it (he postponed writing it multiple times fearing possible consequences), least of all do I want to imply criticism or raise any snarky accusations against Mr. Perkins. My point here is that even a strong critic of U.S. imperialism with eyes open can harbor illusions about the nature of capitalism. The all-encompassing pervasiveness of capitalist propaganda, and that the relentless dissemination of it across every conceivable media and institutional outlet, still leaves most people with a wistful idealization of some earlier, innocent capitalism not yet befouled by anti-social behavior and violence or by greed.

    Such an innocent capitalism has never existed, and couldn’t.

    Horrific, state-directed violence in massive doses enabled capitalism to slowly establish itself, then methodically expand from its northwestern European beginnings. It is not for nothing that Karl Marx famously wrote, “If money … ‘comes into the world with a congenital blood-stain on one cheek,’ capital comes dripping from head to foot, from every pore, with blood and dirt.”

    Markets over people from the start

    Although the relative weight that should be given to the two sides of the equation of how capitalism took root in feudal Europe — feudal lords pushing their peasants off the land to clear space for commodity agricultural products or the capital accumulated from trade by merchants growing large enough to create the surpluses capable of being converted into the capital necessary to start production on a scale larger than artisan production — is likely never to be definitively settled (and the two basic factors reinforced one another), force was a crucial midwife. English lords wanted to transform arable land into sheep meadows to take advantage of the demand for wool, and began razing peasant cottages to clear the land. These actions became known as the “enclosure movement.”

    Forced off the land they had farmed and barred from the “commons” (cleared land on which they grazed cattle and forests in which they foraged), peasants could either become beggars, risking draconian punishment for doing so, or become laborers in the new factories at pitifully low wages and enduring inhuman conditions and working hours. The brutality of this process is glimpsed in this account by historian Michael Perelman, in his book The Invention of Capitalism:

    Simple dispossession from the commons was a necessary, but not always sufficient, condition to harness rural people to the labor market. A series of cruel laws accompanied the dispossession of the peasants’ rights, including the period before capitalism had become a significant economic force.

    For example, beginning with the Tudors, England created a series of stern measures to prevent peasants from drifting into vagrancy or falling back onto welfare systems. According to a 1572 statute, beggars over the age of fourteen were to be severely flogged and branded with a red-hot iron on the left ear unless someone was willing to take them into service for two years. Repeat offenders over the age of eighteen were to be executed unless someone would take them into service. Third offenses automatically resulted in execution. … Similar statutes appeared almost simultaneously in England, the Low Countries, and Zurich. … Eventually, the majority of workers, lacking any alternative, had little choice but to work for wages at something close to subsistence level.”

    Additional taking of the commons occurred in the early 19th century, when British industrialists sought to eliminate the remaining portions of any commons left so there would be no alternative to selling one’s labor power to capitalists for a pittance. As industrial resistance gathered steam, the British government employed 12,000 troops to repress craft workers, artisans, factory workers and small farmers who were resisting the introduction of machinery by capitalists, seeing these machines as threats to their freedom and dignity. That represented more troops than Britain was using in its simultaneous fight against Napoleon’s armies in Spain.

    Slavery critical to capitalist accumulation

    Nor can the role of slavery in bootstrapping the rise of capitalism be ignored. The slave trade, until the end of the seventeenth century, was conducted by government monopolies. European economies grew on the “triangular trade” in which European manufactured goods were shipped to the coast of western Africa in exchange for slaves, who were shipped to the Americas, which in turn sent sugar and other commodities back to Europe. Britain and other European powers earned far more from the plantations of their Caribbean colonies than from North American possessions; much Caribbean produce could not be grown in Europe, while North American colonies tended to produce what Europe could already provide for itself.

    Britain profited enormously from the triangular trade, both in the slave trade itself and the surpluses generated from plantation crops produced with slave labor. Proceeds from the slave trade were large enough to lift the prosperity of the British economy as a whole, provide the investment funds to build the infrastructure necessary to support industry and the scale of trade resulting from a growing industrial economy, and ease credit problems.

    Spain’s slaughter of Indigenous peoples and Spanish use of the survivors as slaves to mine enormous amounts of gold and silver — the basis of money across Europe and Asia — also was a crucial contributor to the rise of European economies, both by swelling the amount of money available and enabling the importation of goods from China, which was not interested in buying European products but had a need of silver to stabilize its own economy. The Spanish priest Bartolomé de las Casas, horrified at what he witnessed, wrote in 1542, “the Spaniards, who no sooner had knowledge of these people than they became like fierce wolves and tigers and lions who have gone many days without food or nourishment. And no other thing have they done for forty years until this day, and still today see fit to do, but dismember, slay, perturb, afflict, torment, and destroy the Indians by all manner of cruelty — new and divers and most singular manners such as never before seen or read of heard of — some few of which shall be recounted below, and they do this to such a degree that on the Island of Hispaniola, of the above three millions souls that we once saw, today there be no more than two hundred of those native people remaining.”

    When the Spanish were kicked out by Latin America’s early 19th century wars of liberation, that did not mean real independence. The British replaced the Spanish, using more modern financial means to exploit the region. The era of direct colonialism, beginning with Spain’s massive extraction of gold and silver, was replaced by one-sided trading relationships following the region’s formal independence in the early nineteenth century. George Canning, an imperialist “free trader” who was the British foreign secretary, wrote in 1824: “The deed is done, the nail is driven, Spanish America is free; and if we do not mismanage our affairs sadly, she is English.”

    Canning was no idle boaster. At the same time, the French foreign minister lamented, “In the hour of emancipation the Spanish colonies turned into some sort of British colonies.” And lest we think this was simply European hubris, here is what the Argentine finance minister had to say: “We are not in a position to take measures against foreign trade, particularly British, because we are bound to that nation by large debts and would expose ourselves to a rupture which would cause much harm.” What had happened? Argentina flung its ports wide open to trade under British influence, flooding itself with a deluge of European goods sufficient to strangle nascent local production; when Argentina later attempted to escape dependency by imposing trade barriers in order to build up its own industry, British and French warships forced the country open again.

    The “right” to force opium on China to maintain profits

    Imperialism was not confined to any single continent. Consider Britain’s treatment of China in the latter half of the 19th century. (We are concentrating on Britain for the moment because it was the leading capitalist power at this time.) British warships were sent to China to force the Chinese to import opium, a drug that was illegal back home. This was done under the rubric of Britain’s alleged “right to trade.” Under this doctrine, underdeveloped countries had no choice but to buy products from more powerful capitalist countries, even products that caused widespread injury to the country’s people. This could also be considered a “right” to force opium on China. Where else but under capitalism could such a preposterous “right” be conjured? U.S. smugglers also made enormous fortunes selling opium to Chinese as well.

    A 2015 Medium article detailing the background and results of the two opium wars, noted the huge amounts of money that were made:

    “Opium was big business for the British, one of the critical economic engines of the era. Britain controlled India and oversaw one million Indian opium farmers. By 1850, the drug accounted for a staggering 15 to 20 percent of the British Empire’s revenue, and the India-to-China opium business became, in the words of Frederic Wakeman, a leading historian of the period, the ‘world’s most valuable single commodity trade of the nineteenth century.’ Notes Carl Trocki, author of Opium, Empire and the Global Economy, ‘The entire commercial infrastructure of European trade in Asia was built around opium. … [A] procession of American sea merchants made their fortunes smuggling opium. They were aware of its poisonous effects on the Chinese people, but few of them ever mentioned the drug in the thousands of pages of letters and documents they sent back to America.’ ”

    Eventually, Chinese authorities ordered foreigners, mainly British and U.S., to hand over all opium. After a refusal, Chinese authorities destroyed all the opium they could find. In response, British warships were sent to bombard coastal cities until China agreed to the one-sided Treaty of Nanking, in which it was forced to pay Britain an indemnity of millions, to cede Hong Kong and to open five ports to trade, where foreigners were not subject to Chinese law or authorities.

    When further demands were refused, the British, French and U.S. navies launched the second opium war, attacking coastal and interior cities. They invaded Beijing, “chased the emperor out of town, and, in an orgy of fine-art and jewelry looting, destroyed the Versailles of China, the old Summer Palace.” A new treaty, more unequal than the first, was imposed, forcing open the entire country. A British lawyer enlisted to provide justification for this behavior wrote, as the first opium war was developing, “Our men of war are now, it is to be hoped, far on their way towards China, which shall be ‘our oyster, which [we] with sword will open.’ Then may we extract from the Emperor an acknowledgement of the heinous offence — or series of offences — which he has committed against the law of nature and of nations, and read him a lesson, even from a barbarian book, which will benefit him and all his successors.”

    Fantastic profits for European capital; death for Africans

    Nor was Africa spared exploitation. Far from it. The exact number of Africans kidnapped and forcibly transported across the Atlantic will never be known, but scholars’ estimates tend to range from about ten million to twelve million. The human toll, however, is still higher because, simultaneous with those who were successfully kidnapped, millions more were killed or maimed, and thus not shipped across the Atlantic. This level of inhumanity cannot be accomplished without an accompanying ideology.

    Walter Rodney, in his outstanding contribution to understanding lagging development in the South, How Europe Underdeveloped Africa, pointed out that although racism and other hatreds, including anti-Semitism, long existed across Europe, racism was an integral part of capitalism because it was necessary to rationalize the exploitation of African labor that was crucial to their accumulations of wealth.  “Occasionally, it is mistakenly held that Europeans enslaved Africans for racist reasons,” Dr. Rodney wrote. “European planters and miners enslaved Africans for economic reasons, so that their labor power could be exploited. Indeed, it would have been impossible to open up the New World and to use it as a constant generator of wealth, had it not been for African labor. There were no other alternatives: the American (Indian) population was virtually wiped out and Europe’s population was too small for settlement overseas at that time.”

    Exploitation did not end with the end of slavery in the 19th century, Dr. Rodney pointed out. Colonial powers confiscated huge areas of arable land in Africa, then sold it at nominal prices to the well-connected. In Kenya, for example, the British declared the fertile highlands “crown lands” and sold blocks of land as large as 550 square miles (1,400 square kilometers). These massive land confiscations not only enabled the creation of massively profitable plantations, but created the conditions that forced newly landless Africans to become low-wage agricultural workers and to pay taxes to the colonial power. Laws were passed forbidding Africans from growing cash crops in plantation regions, a system of compulsion summed up by a British colonel who became a settler in Kenya: “We have stolen his land. Now we must steal his limbs. Compulsory labor is the corollary of our occupation of the country.” In other parts of colonial Africa, where land remained in African hands, colonial governments slapped money taxes on cattle, land, houses and the people themselves; subsistence farmers don’t have money to pay money taxes so farmers were forced to grow cash crops, for which they were paid very little.

    The alternative to farming was to go to work in the mines, where wages were set at starvation levels. European and North American mining and trading companies made fantastic profits (sometimes as high as 90 percent) and raw materials could be exploited at similar levels. (A U.S. rubber company, from 1940 to 1965, took 160 million dollars worth of rubber out of Liberia while the Liberian government received eight million dollars.) Another method of extracting wealth was through forced labor — French, British, Belgian and Portuguese colonial governments required Africans to perform unpaid labor on railroads and other infrastructure projects. The French were particularly vicious in their use of forced labor (each year throughout the 1920s, 10,000 new people were put to work on a single railroad and at least 25 percent of the railroad’s forced laborers died from starvation or disease). These railroads did not benefit Africans when independence came in the mid-20th century because they were laid down to bring raw materials to a port and had no relationship to the trading or geographical patterns of the new countries or their neighbors.

    The entire territory that today constitutes the Democratic Republic of Congo was, in the late 19th and early 20th century, the personal possession of Belgium’s king, Leopold II. At least 10 million Congolese lost their lives at the hands of Belgian authorities eager to extract rubber and other resources at any cost. This genocidal plunder — the loss of life halved the local population — rested on a system of terror and slave labor. This system included forced labor requiring work in mines day and night, the chopping off of hands as punishment and “the burning of countless villages and cities where every individual who was found was killed.”

    As the U.S. grew to prominence, becoming a leading capitalist power itself as the 20th century began, overthrowing governments to ensure undisputed “profitable investment” became routine. The U.S., incidentally, was the first country to recognize King Leopold’s claim to Congo.

    If it’s your “backyard” you do what you want to do

    The U.S. has long considered Latin America its “backyard.” Cuba’s economy was based on slave-produced sugar cane under Spanish rule, and when a series of rebellions finally succeeded in freeing the country from Spanish colonial rule, Cuban independence was formal only as the United States quickly became a colonial master in all but name. U.S. forces left Cuba in 1902 after a four-year occupation but not before dictating that Cubans agree to the Platt Amendment. The amendment, inserted into the Cuban constitution as the price for U.S. withdrawal, gave the U.S. control over Cuban foreign and economic policies and the right to intervene with military force to protect U.S. corporate interests. By 1905, U.S. interests owned 60 percent of Cuba’s land and controlled most of its industry. Just four months after the 1959 revolution took power, the U.S. government was already viewing the potential success of the revolution as a “bad example” for the rest of Latin America. The U.S. State Department defined U.S. goals in Cuba as “receptivity to U.S. and free world capital and increasing trade” and “access by the United States to essential Cuban resources.” Those goals have not changed to this day.

    That follows naturally from what the pre-revolution U.S. ambassador to Cuba, Earl T. Smith, had said of the island country: “I ran Cuba from the sixth floor of the US embassy. The Cubans’ job was to grow sugar and shut up.”

    When a strike broke out against the United Fruit Company in Colombia in 1929, the action was put down through a massacre of the workers. The U.S. embassy in Bogotá cabled the State Department in Washington this triumphant message: “I have the honor to report that the Bogotá representative of the United Fruit Company told me yesterday that the total number of strikers killed by the Colombian military exceeded one thousand.” Honor. Think about that.

    For much of the 20th century, the effective ruler of Guatemala and Honduras was the United Fruit Company. The company owned vast plantations in eight countries, and toppled governments in Guatemala and Honduras. For many years, United Fruit had an especially sweet deal in Guatemala. The company paid no taxes, imported equipment without paying duties and was guaranteed low wages. The company also possessed a monopoly on Guatemalan railroads, ocean ports and the telegraph. When a president, Jacobo Arbenz, moved to end this exploitation and orient Guatemala’s economy toward benefiting Guatemalans through mild reforms, the CIA overthrew him. U.S. intelligence agencies declared Arbenz’s program had to be reversed because loosening the United Fruit Company’s domination of the country was against U.S. interests. The U.S. instituted what would become a 40-year nightmare of state-organized mass murder. A series of military leaders, each more brutal than the last and fortified with U.S. aid, unleashed a reign of terror that ultimately cost 200,000 lives, 93 percent of whom were murdered by the state through its army and its death squads.But not outside ordinary policy. The United States has militarily invaded Latin American and Caribbean countries 96 times, including 48 times in the 20th century. That total constitutes only direct interventions and doesn’t include coups fomented by the U.S., such as Guatemala in 1954 and Chile in 1973. Most of these invasions were for reasons along the lines articulated by former U.S. president William Howard Taft: to ensure profits for one or more U.S. corporations or to overthrow governments that did not prioritize the maximization of those profits.

    But not outside ordinary policy. The United States has militarily invaded Latin American and Caribbean countries 96 times, including 48 times in the 20th century. That total constitutes only direct interventions and doesn’t include coups fomented by the U.S., such as Guatemala in 1954 and Chile in 1973. Most of these invasions were for reasons along the lines articulated by former U.S. president William Howard Taft: to ensure profits for one or more U.S. corporations or to overthrow governments that did not prioritize the maximization of those profits.

    The U.S. invaded and occupied Nicaragua multiple times. One of these occasions, in 1909, came as a result of a Nicaraguan president accepting a loan from British bankers instead of U.S. bankers, then opening negotiations with Germany and Japan to build a new canal to rival the Panama Canal. The U.S. installed a dictatorship, and President Taft placed Nicaragua’s customs collections under U.S. control. The disapproved British loan was refinanced through two U.S. banks, which were given control of Nicaragua’s national bank and railroad as a reward. These developments were not an accident, for President Taft had already declared that his foreign policy was “to include active intervention to secure our merchandise and our capitalists opportunity for profitable investment” abroad.

    All these atrocities — and countless others — all happened before the assassinations in Ecuador, Iran and Panama of heads of state who refused to do as they were ordered to by U.S. government operatives (and, in the case of Omar Torrijos, refusing the bribes that were the first tactic to get local leaders on side) recounted by Mr. Perkins in Confessions. No, those atrocities — and the author leaves us in no doubt that those were not “accidents” but were assassinations carried out by the U.S. government — do not represent an unprecedented turn to the dark side. Those acts, as are the present-day sanctions that kill in the hundreds of thousands, are business as usual for the U.S. government and the capitalism it imposes around the world. Imperialism, brutality and violence are nothing new; they are essential tools long wielded in abundance.

    Far more examples could be cited; the above represents a minuscule fraction of atrocities that could be told. Such a long history of systematic violence and brutality speaks for itself as to the “morality” of capitalism.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.

  • It is not unusual for critics of United States foreign policy, whether or not they feel free to use the term “imperialism,” to express regret that a previously rational system has soured. Such sentiments are routine for liberals and hardly unknown among social democrats.

    Such sentiments are, to anyone who cares to pursue a study of history, quite ahistorical. Violence, force and coercion — exemplified in widespread use of slave labor, imperialist conquests of peoples around the world and ruthless extraction of natural resources — pervades the entire history of capitalism. The rise of capitalism can’t be understood outside slavery, colonialism and plunder. To follow up on my previous article discussing how U.S. domination of the world is rooted in the stranglehold Washington has over the world’s financial institutions and its possession of the dominant currency, let’s conduct a further examination of the history of how capitalism functions, this time highlighting imperialism and violence.

    My inspiration for this examination is my recent reading of John Perkins’ Confessions of an Economic Hit Man. Mr. Perkins, for those not familiar with his book, provides a first-hand account of how the U.S. government employs debt, financial entanglements, bribes, threats and finally violence and assassinations of national leaders who won’t place their economies and resources under the control of U.S.-based multi-national corporations. That is no surprise to anyone paying attention, but the book became an improbable best seller, meaning there must have been many eyes opened. That can only be a positive development.

    But even Mr. Perkins, who is unsparing in drawing conclusions and under no illusions about what he and his fellow “economic hit men” were doing and on whose behalf, shows a measure of naïveté. He repeatedly draws upon the “ideals of the U.S. founding fathers” and laments that a republic dedicated to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” has morphed into a global empire. Given the outstanding service he has provided in writing his book, and the physical danger that he put himself in to publish it (he postponed writing it multiple times fearing possible consequences), least of all do I want to imply criticism or raise any snarky accusations against Mr. Perkins. My point here is that even a strong critic of U.S. imperialism with eyes open can harbor illusions about the nature of capitalism. The all-encompassing pervasiveness of capitalist propaganda, and that the relentless dissemination of it across every conceivable media and institutional outlet, still leaves most people with a wistful idealization of some earlier, innocent capitalism not yet befouled by anti-social behavior and violence or by greed.

    Such an innocent capitalism has never existed, and couldn’t.

    Horrific, state-directed violence in massive doses enabled capitalism to slowly establish itself, then methodically expand from its northwestern European beginnings. It is not for nothing that Karl Marx famously wrote, “If money … ‘comes into the world with a congenital blood-stain on one cheek,’ capital comes dripping from head to foot, from every pore, with blood and dirt.”

    Markets over people from the start

    Although the relative weight that should be given to the two sides of the equation of how capitalism took root in feudal Europe — feudal lords pushing their peasants off the land to clear space for commodity agricultural products or the capital accumulated from trade by merchants growing large enough to create the surpluses capable of being converted into the capital necessary to start production on a scale larger than artisan production — is likely never to be definitively settled (and the two basic factors reinforced one another), force was a crucial midwife. English lords wanted to transform arable land into sheep meadows to take advantage of the demand for wool, and began razing peasant cottages to clear the land. These actions became known as the “enclosure movement.”

    Forced off the land they had farmed and barred from the “commons” (cleared land on which they grazed cattle and forests in which they foraged), peasants could either become beggars, risking draconian punishment for doing so, or become laborers in the new factories at pitifully low wages and enduring inhuman conditions and working hours. The brutality of this process is glimpsed in this account by historian Michael Perelman, in his book The Invention of Capitalism:

    Simple dispossession from the commons was a necessary, but not always sufficient, condition to harness rural people to the labor market. A series of cruel laws accompanied the dispossession of the peasants’ rights, including the period before capitalism had become a significant economic force.

    For example, beginning with the Tudors, England created a series of stern measures to prevent peasants from drifting into vagrancy or falling back onto welfare systems. According to a 1572 statute, beggars over the age of fourteen were to be severely flogged and branded with a red-hot iron on the left ear unless someone was willing to take them into service for two years. Repeat offenders over the age of eighteen were to be executed unless someone would take them into service. Third offenses automatically resulted in execution. … Similar statutes appeared almost simultaneously in England, the Low Countries, and Zurich. … Eventually, the majority of workers, lacking any alternative, had little choice but to work for wages at something close to subsistence level.”

    Additional taking of the commons occurred in the early 19th century, when British industrialists sought to eliminate the remaining portions of any commons left so there would be no alternative to selling one’s labor power to capitalists for a pittance. As industrial resistance gathered steam, the British government employed 12,000 troops to repress craft workers, artisans, factory workers and small farmers who were resisting the introduction of machinery by capitalists, seeing these machines as threats to their freedom and dignity. That represented more troops than Britain was using in its simultaneous fight against Napoleon’s armies in Spain.

    Slavery critical to capitalist accumulation

    Nor can the role of slavery in bootstrapping the rise of capitalism be ignored. The slave trade, until the end of the seventeenth century, was conducted by government monopolies. European economies grew on the “triangular trade” in which European manufactured goods were shipped to the coast of western Africa in exchange for slaves, who were shipped to the Americas, which in turn sent sugar and other commodities back to Europe. Britain and other European powers earned far more from the plantations of their Caribbean colonies than from North American possessions; much Caribbean produce could not be grown in Europe, while North American colonies tended to produce what Europe could already provide for itself.

    Britain profited enormously from the triangular trade, both in the slave trade itself and the surpluses generated from plantation crops produced with slave labor. Proceeds from the slave trade were large enough to lift the prosperity of the British economy as a whole, provide the investment funds to build the infrastructure necessary to support industry and the scale of trade resulting from a growing industrial economy, and ease credit problems.

    Spain’s slaughter of Indigenous peoples and Spanish use of the survivors as slaves to mine enormous amounts of gold and silver — the basis of money across Europe and Asia — also was a crucial contributor to the rise of European economies, both by swelling the amount of money available and enabling the importation of goods from China, which was not interested in buying European products but had a need of silver to stabilize its own economy. The Spanish priest Bartolomé de las Casas, horrified at what he witnessed, wrote in 1542, “the Spaniards, who no sooner had knowledge of these people than they became like fierce wolves and tigers and lions who have gone many days without food or nourishment. And no other thing have they done for forty years until this day, and still today see fit to do, but dismember, slay, perturb, afflict, torment, and destroy the Indians by all manner of cruelty — new and divers and most singular manners such as never before seen or read of heard of — some few of which shall be recounted below, and they do this to such a degree that on the Island of Hispaniola, of the above three millions souls that we once saw, today there be no more than two hundred of those native people remaining.”

    When the Spanish were kicked out by Latin America’s early 19th century wars of liberation, that did not mean real independence. The British replaced the Spanish, using more modern financial means to exploit the region. The era of direct colonialism, beginning with Spain’s massive extraction of gold and silver, was replaced by one-sided trading relationships following the region’s formal independence in the early nineteenth century. George Canning, an imperialist “free trader” who was the British foreign secretary, wrote in 1824: “The deed is done, the nail is driven, Spanish America is free; and if we do not mismanage our affairs sadly, she is English.”

    Canning was no idle boaster. At the same time, the French foreign minister lamented, “In the hour of emancipation the Spanish colonies turned into some sort of British colonies.” And lest we think this was simply European hubris, here is what the Argentine finance minister had to say: “We are not in a position to take measures against foreign trade, particularly British, because we are bound to that nation by large debts and would expose ourselves to a rupture which would cause much harm.” What had happened? Argentina flung its ports wide open to trade under British influence, flooding itself with a deluge of European goods sufficient to strangle nascent local production; when Argentina later attempted to escape dependency by imposing trade barriers in order to build up its own industry, British and French warships forced the country open again.

    The “right” to force opium on China to maintain profits

    Imperialism was not confined to any single continent. Consider Britain’s treatment of China in the latter half of the 19th century. (We are concentrating on Britain for the moment because it was the leading capitalist power at this time.) British warships were sent to China to force the Chinese to import opium, a drug that was illegal back home. This was done under the rubric of Britain’s alleged “right to trade.” Under this doctrine, underdeveloped countries had no choice but to buy products from more powerful capitalist countries, even products that caused widespread injury to the country’s people. This could also be considered a “right” to force opium on China. Where else but under capitalism could such a preposterous “right” be conjured? U.S. smugglers also made enormous fortunes selling opium to Chinese as well.

    A 2015 Medium article detailing the background and results of the two opium wars, noted the huge amounts of money that were made:

    “Opium was big business for the British, one of the critical economic engines of the era. Britain controlled India and oversaw one million Indian opium farmers. By 1850, the drug accounted for a staggering 15 to 20 percent of the British Empire’s revenue, and the India-to-China opium business became, in the words of Frederic Wakeman, a leading historian of the period, the ‘world’s most valuable single commodity trade of the nineteenth century.’ Notes Carl Trocki, author of Opium, Empire and the Global Economy, ‘The entire commercial infrastructure of European trade in Asia was built around opium. … [A] procession of American sea merchants made their fortunes smuggling opium. They were aware of its poisonous effects on the Chinese people, but few of them ever mentioned the drug in the thousands of pages of letters and documents they sent back to America.’ ”

    Eventually, Chinese authorities ordered foreigners, mainly British and U.S., to hand over all opium. After a refusal, Chinese authorities destroyed all the opium they could find. In response, British warships were sent to bombard coastal cities until China agreed to the one-sided Treaty of Nanking, in which it was forced to pay Britain an indemnity of millions, to cede Hong Kong and to open five ports to trade, where foreigners were not subject to Chinese law or authorities.

    When further demands were refused, the British, French and U.S. navies launched the second opium war, attacking coastal and interior cities. They invaded Beijing, “chased the emperor out of town, and, in an orgy of fine-art and jewelry looting, destroyed the Versailles of China, the old Summer Palace.” A new treaty, more unequal than the first, was imposed, forcing open the entire country. A British lawyer enlisted to provide justification for this behavior wrote, as the first opium war was developing, “Our men of war are now, it is to be hoped, far on their way towards China, which shall be ‘our oyster, which [we] with sword will open.’ Then may we extract from the Emperor an acknowledgement of the heinous offence — or series of offences — which he has committed against the law of nature and of nations, and read him a lesson, even from a barbarian book, which will benefit him and all his successors.”

    Fantastic profits for European capital; death for Africans

    Nor was Africa spared exploitation. Far from it. The exact number of Africans kidnapped and forcibly transported across the Atlantic will never be known, but scholars’ estimates tend to range from about ten million to twelve million. The human toll, however, is still higher because, simultaneous with those who were successfully kidnapped, millions more were killed or maimed, and thus not shipped across the Atlantic. This level of inhumanity cannot be accomplished without an accompanying ideology.

    Walter Rodney, in his outstanding contribution to understanding lagging development in the South, How Europe Underdeveloped Africa, pointed out that although racism and other hatreds, including anti-Semitism, long existed across Europe, racism was an integral part of capitalism because it was necessary to rationalize the exploitation of African labor that was crucial to their accumulations of wealth.  “Occasionally, it is mistakenly held that Europeans enslaved Africans for racist reasons,” Dr. Rodney wrote. “European planters and miners enslaved Africans for economic reasons, so that their labor power could be exploited. Indeed, it would have been impossible to open up the New World and to use it as a constant generator of wealth, had it not been for African labor. There were no other alternatives: the American (Indian) population was virtually wiped out and Europe’s population was too small for settlement overseas at that time.”

    Exploitation did not end with the end of slavery in the 19th century, Dr. Rodney pointed out. Colonial powers confiscated huge areas of arable land in Africa, then sold it at nominal prices to the well-connected. In Kenya, for example, the British declared the fertile highlands “crown lands” and sold blocks of land as large as 550 square miles (1,400 square kilometers). These massive land confiscations not only enabled the creation of massively profitable plantations, but created the conditions that forced newly landless Africans to become low-wage agricultural workers and to pay taxes to the colonial power. Laws were passed forbidding Africans from growing cash crops in plantation regions, a system of compulsion summed up by a British colonel who became a settler in Kenya: “We have stolen his land. Now we must steal his limbs. Compulsory labor is the corollary of our occupation of the country.” In other parts of colonial Africa, where land remained in African hands, colonial governments slapped money taxes on cattle, land, houses and the people themselves; subsistence farmers don’t have money to pay money taxes so farmers were forced to grow cash crops, for which they were paid very little.

    The alternative to farming was to go to work in the mines, where wages were set at starvation levels. European and North American mining and trading companies made fantastic profits (sometimes as high as 90 percent) and raw materials could be exploited at similar levels. (A U.S. rubber company, from 1940 to 1965, took 160 million dollars worth of rubber out of Liberia while the Liberian government received eight million dollars.) Another method of extracting wealth was through forced labor — French, British, Belgian and Portuguese colonial governments required Africans to perform unpaid labor on railroads and other infrastructure projects. The French were particularly vicious in their use of forced labor (each year throughout the 1920s, 10,000 new people were put to work on a single railroad and at least 25 percent of the railroad’s forced laborers died from starvation or disease). These railroads did not benefit Africans when independence came in the mid-20th century because they were laid down to bring raw materials to a port and had no relationship to the trading or geographical patterns of the new countries or their neighbors.

    The entire territory that today constitutes the Democratic Republic of Congo was, in the late 19th and early 20th century, the personal possession of Belgium’s king, Leopold II. At least 10 million Congolese lost their lives at the hands of Belgian authorities eager to extract rubber and other resources at any cost. This genocidal plunder — the loss of life halved the local population — rested on a system of terror and slave labor. This system included forced labor requiring work in mines day and night, the chopping off of hands as punishment and “the burning of countless villages and cities where every individual who was found was killed.”

    As the U.S. grew to prominence, becoming a leading capitalist power itself as the 20th century began, overthrowing governments to ensure undisputed “profitable investment” became routine. The U.S., incidentally, was the first country to recognize King Leopold’s claim to Congo.

    If it’s your “backyard” you do what you want to do

    The U.S. has long considered Latin America its “backyard.” Cuba’s economy was based on slave-produced sugar cane under Spanish rule, and when a series of rebellions finally succeeded in freeing the country from Spanish colonial rule, Cuban independence was formal only as the United States quickly became a colonial master in all but name. U.S. forces left Cuba in 1902 after a four-year occupation but not before dictating that Cubans agree to the Platt Amendment. The amendment, inserted into the Cuban constitution as the price for U.S. withdrawal, gave the U.S. control over Cuban foreign and economic policies and the right to intervene with military force to protect U.S. corporate interests. By 1905, U.S. interests owned 60 percent of Cuba’s land and controlled most of its industry. Just four months after the 1959 revolution took power, the U.S. government was already viewing the potential success of the revolution as a “bad example” for the rest of Latin America. The U.S. State Department defined U.S. goals in Cuba as “receptivity to U.S. and free world capital and increasing trade” and “access by the United States to essential Cuban resources.” Those goals have not changed to this day.

    That follows naturally from what the pre-revolution U.S. ambassador to Cuba, Earl T. Smith, had said of the island country: “I ran Cuba from the sixth floor of the US embassy. The Cubans’ job was to grow sugar and shut up.”

    When a strike broke out against the United Fruit Company in Colombia in 1929, the action was put down through a massacre of the workers. The U.S. embassy in Bogotá cabled the State Department in Washington this triumphant message: “I have the honor to report that the Bogotá representative of the United Fruit Company told me yesterday that the total number of strikers killed by the Colombian military exceeded one thousand.” Honor. Think about that.

    For much of the 20th century, the effective ruler of Guatemala and Honduras was the United Fruit Company. The company owned vast plantations in eight countries, and toppled governments in Guatemala and Honduras. For many years, United Fruit had an especially sweet deal in Guatemala. The company paid no taxes, imported equipment without paying duties and was guaranteed low wages. The company also possessed a monopoly on Guatemalan railroads, ocean ports and the telegraph. When a president, Jacobo Arbenz, moved to end this exploitation and orient Guatemala’s economy toward benefiting Guatemalans through mild reforms, the CIA overthrew him. U.S. intelligence agencies declared Arbenz’s program had to be reversed because loosening the United Fruit Company’s domination of the country was against U.S. interests. The U.S. instituted what would become a 40-year nightmare of state-organized mass murder. A series of military leaders, each more brutal than the last and fortified with U.S. aid, unleashed a reign of terror that ultimately cost 200,000 lives, 93 percent of whom were murdered by the state through its army and its death squads.But not outside ordinary policy. The United States has militarily invaded Latin American and Caribbean countries 96 times, including 48 times in the 20th century. That total constitutes only direct interventions and doesn’t include coups fomented by the U.S., such as Guatemala in 1954 and Chile in 1973. Most of these invasions were for reasons along the lines articulated by former U.S. president William Howard Taft: to ensure profits for one or more U.S. corporations or to overthrow governments that did not prioritize the maximization of those profits.

    But not outside ordinary policy. The United States has militarily invaded Latin American and Caribbean countries 96 times, including 48 times in the 20th century. That total constitutes only direct interventions and doesn’t include coups fomented by the U.S., such as Guatemala in 1954 and Chile in 1973. Most of these invasions were for reasons along the lines articulated by former U.S. president William Howard Taft: to ensure profits for one or more U.S. corporations or to overthrow governments that did not prioritize the maximization of those profits.

    The U.S. invaded and occupied Nicaragua multiple times. One of these occasions, in 1909, came as a result of a Nicaraguan president accepting a loan from British bankers instead of U.S. bankers, then opening negotiations with Germany and Japan to build a new canal to rival the Panama Canal. The U.S. installed a dictatorship, and President Taft placed Nicaragua’s customs collections under U.S. control. The disapproved British loan was refinanced through two U.S. banks, which were given control of Nicaragua’s national bank and railroad as a reward. These developments were not an accident, for President Taft had already declared that his foreign policy was “to include active intervention to secure our merchandise and our capitalists opportunity for profitable investment” abroad.

    All these atrocities — and countless others — all happened before the assassinations in Ecuador, Iran and Panama of heads of state who refused to do as they were ordered to by U.S. government operatives (and, in the case of Omar Torrijos, refusing the bribes that were the first tactic to get local leaders on side) recounted by Mr. Perkins in Confessions. No, those atrocities — and the author leaves us in no doubt that those were not “accidents” but were assassinations carried out by the U.S. government — do not represent an unprecedented turn to the dark side. Those acts, as are the present-day sanctions that kill in the hundreds of thousands, are business as usual for the U.S. government and the capitalism it imposes around the world. Imperialism, brutality and violence are nothing new; they are essential tools long wielded in abundance.

    Far more examples could be cited; the above represents a minuscule fraction of atrocities that could be told. Such a long history of systematic violence and brutality speaks for itself as to the “morality” of capitalism.

    The post The “Innocence” of Early Capitalism is Another Fantastical Myth appeared first on CounterPunch.org.

    This post was originally published on CounterPunch.org.

  • Although the Blinken-Biden foreign policy approach may be more palatable to European governments and much of the US population, that doesn’t mean it’s that different from what preceded it. Besides the possible reinstatement of the Iran nuclear deal and a re-engagement with Cuba, little seems likely to change. US residents will continue to be told that China is a potentially dangerous enemy and that Russia wants to rule the world. This is despite the fairly obvious evidence to the contrary. While both nations seem to want to expand their economic influence—a natural result of the capitalist nature of their economies—the actions of neither nation indicate a desire to create an empire of military bases and operations like that currently run by the United States. Although Washington would like the world to believe China’s ship movements near its borders are aggressive in nature, a more honest perspective defines those actions as primarily defensive. In a similar fashion, the Russian actions in eastern Ukraine, Georgia and Crimea could be considered as such. No matter how one perceives these actions, however, they pale behind the US military reach around the globe in oceans and countries far from its borders. The presence of two carrier groups in the Mideast, at least two in the Pacific and a couple others in waters far from any US shores is much different from the defensive positions held by Chinese and Russian ships. In addition, the continued presence of US troops and special forces in nations around the world, including many that directly border Russia, China and smaller adversaries like Iran and Venezuela can only be considered defensive in nature if one accepts Washington’s belief that the world is Washington’s to own.

    As an indication of his worldview, it is revealing to note Blinken’s membership in the Center for Strategic and International Studies(CSIS). According to its website, the CSIS “has been dedicated to finding ways to sustain American prominence and prosperity as a force for good in the world.” One is not being particularly cynical when they point out that the good this statement is referring to is the good of Wall Street, and not necessarily Main Street. The CSIS bills itself as a nonpartisan entity. It is funded in large part by war industry contractors, energy corporations and US based banks with an expressed purpose of “maintaining US prominence” in the world. Given the nature of its board of trustees, it’s clear that what that nonpartisansship means is it represents the power elites that run the United States. Democrats and Republicans share a common goal of ensuring the US remains the world’s most powerful state. The differences of opinion the parties have on certain issues do not exist when it comes to enveloping the world in the web of US imperialism. There are differences in how to go about this, but not on the goal itself. This is why both parties are up in arms about China’s rising star and Russian challenges in the Mideast and Europe. The non-partisan nature of the Board lies in the inclusion of both US capitalist parties, not in the inclusion of anti-capitalist or anti-imperialist viewpoints.

    Image by Lencer, CC BY-SA 3.0.

    Biden, Blinken and DOD

    As mentioned at the beginning of this piece, Biden’s foreign policy is fundamentally the same as that of the past several decades. The differences we are likely to see will be mostly cosmetic. Yes, moves like re-instituting the Iran agreement and re-establishing ties with Cuba are important and a step away from unnecessary aggressiveness. However, these actions, if undertaken, have an underlying goal of creating broader support for the ongoing hegemonic endeavor that defines US foreign policy. If there are any defining differences in foreign policy approaches over the last five presidential administrations one such difference would be this: should the US create coalitions of nations when it attacks another country or should it go it alone? One could reasonably argue that the military actions taken under cover of a coalition of the “willing” tend to be more successful, while primarily solo adventures have tended to backfire. This isn’t to say that any US-inspired military action of the last thirty years has achieved the goals originally presented by the White House, but those where the US acted unilaterally seem to have been much more disastrous than those where a coalition of allies and client states was involved.

    It is not my purpose here to predict the future of US foreign policy in the Biden White House. However, there are some potentially predictive statements and actions that have come from that direction since Inauguration Day. One such statement that sticks in my mind is Secretary of State Blinken’s repeated reference to something he calls a “rules-based order.” So, what is this rules-based order Mr. Blinken is always going on about and who makes the rules? Near as I can tell, it’s Washington who makes the rules he’s talking about and it’s Wall Street that informs them. The apparent purpose of this rules-based order is to institute capitalist “democracy” throughout the world, even though the current situation seems to show that capitalism and democracy are not synonymous nor is democracy necessarily the preferred form of government among many capitalist entities.

    In a March 24, 2021 speech Blinken accused China of economically coercing Australia. To state the obvious, this statement was certainly not self-reflective. After all, Washington has written the book about economic coercion for at least the past sixty years. Indeed, it is currently sanctioning several nations because they are resisting its attempts to dominate the world. Sanctions are the definition of economic coercion. Indeed, pointing fingers at China’s coercive behavior only highlights Washington’s decades of such behavior.

    While it is somewhat reasonable to assume that the Biden White House will try and avoid instigating a military conflict with China, Russia, Iran or Venezuela, there is little indication it will withdraw all forces from the Middle East or South Asia or that Special Forces operations around the globe will cease or even be cut back. If present budget proposals remain close to what they are, Biden’s first Pentagon budget will check in at around 1.7 percent more than Trump’s last budget. After all, history tells us that when economic and political coercion fails, war and threats of war often follow. Therefore, the war department’s budget must never decrease.

    The post Biden, Blinken and DOD appeared first on CounterPunch.org.

    This post was originally published on CounterPunch.org.

  • Although the Blinken-Biden foreign policy approach may be more palatable to European governments and much of the US population, that doesn’t mean it’s that different from what preceded it. Besides the possible reinstatement of the Iran nuclear deal and a re-engagement with Cuba, little seems likely to change. US residents will continue to be told that China is a potentially dangerous enemy and that Russia wants to rule the world. This is despite the fairly obvious evidence to the contrary. While both nations seem to want to expand their economic influence—a natural result of the capitalist nature of their economies—the actions of neither nation indicate a desire to create an empire of military bases and operations like that currently run by the United States. Although Washington would like the world to believe China’s ship movements near its borders are aggressive in nature, a more honest perspective defines those actions as primarily defensive. In a similar fashion, the Russian actions in eastern Ukraine, Georgia and Crimea could be considered as such. No matter how one perceives these actions, however, they pale behind the US military reach around the globe in oceans and countries far from its borders. The presence of two carrier groups in the Mideast, at least two in the Pacific and a couple others in waters far from any US shores is much different from the defensive positions held by Chinese and Russian ships. In addition, the continued presence of US troops and special forces in nations around the world, including many that directly border Russia, China and smaller adversaries like Iran and Venezuela can only be considered defensive in nature if one accepts Washington’s belief that the world is Washington’s to own.

    As an indication of his worldview, it is revealing to note Blinken’s membership in the Center for Strategic and International Studies(CSIS). According to its website, the CSIS “has been dedicated to finding ways to sustain American prominence and prosperity as a force for good in the world.” One is not being particularly cynical when they point out that the good this statement is referring to is the good of Wall Street, and not necessarily Main Street. The CSIS bills itself as a nonpartisan entity. It is funded in large part by war industry contractors, energy corporations and US based banks with an expressed purpose of “maintaining US prominence” in the world. Given the nature of its board of trustees, it’s clear that what that nonpartisansship means is it represents the power elites that run the United States. Democrats and Republicans share a common goal of ensuring the US remains the world’s most powerful state. The differences of opinion the parties have on certain issues do not exist when it comes to enveloping the world in the web of US imperialism. There are differences in how to go about this, but not on the goal itself. This is why both parties are up in arms about China’s rising star and Russian challenges in the Mideast and Europe. The non-partisan nature of the Board lies in the inclusion of both US capitalist parties, not in the inclusion of anti-capitalist or anti-imperialist viewpoints.

    Image by Lencer, CC BY-SA 3.0.

    Biden, Blinken and DOD

    As mentioned at the beginning of this piece, Biden’s foreign policy is fundamentally the same as that of the past several decades. The differences we are likely to see will be mostly cosmetic. Yes, moves like re-instituting the Iran agreement and re-establishing ties with Cuba are important and a step away from unnecessary aggressiveness. However, these actions, if undertaken, have an underlying goal of creating broader support for the ongoing hegemonic endeavor that defines US foreign policy. If there are any defining differences in foreign policy approaches over the last five presidential administrations one such difference would be this: should the US create coalitions of nations when it attacks another country or should it go it alone? One could reasonably argue that the military actions taken under cover of a coalition of the “willing” tend to be more successful, while primarily solo adventures have tended to backfire. This isn’t to say that any US-inspired military action of the last thirty years has achieved the goals originally presented by the White House, but those where the US acted unilaterally seem to have been much more disastrous than those where a coalition of allies and client states was involved.

    It is not my purpose here to predict the future of US foreign policy in the Biden White House. However, there are some potentially predictive statements and actions that have come from that direction since Inauguration Day. One such statement that sticks in my mind is Secretary of State Blinken’s repeated reference to something he calls a “rules-based order.” So, what is this rules-based order Mr. Blinken is always going on about and who makes the rules? Near as I can tell, it’s Washington who makes the rules he’s talking about and it’s Wall Street that informs them. The apparent purpose of this rules-based order is to institute capitalist “democracy” throughout the world, even though the current situation seems to show that capitalism and democracy are not synonymous nor is democracy necessarily the preferred form of government among many capitalist entities.

    In a March 24, 2021 speech Blinken accused China of economically coercing Australia. To state the obvious, this statement was certainly not self-reflective. After all, Washington has written the book about economic coercion for at least the past sixty years. Indeed, it is currently sanctioning several nations because they are resisting its attempts to dominate the world. Sanctions are the definition of economic coercion. Indeed, pointing fingers at China’s coercive behavior only highlights Washington’s decades of such behavior.

    While it is somewhat reasonable to assume that the Biden White House will try and avoid instigating a military conflict with China, Russia, Iran or Venezuela, there is little indication it will withdraw all forces from the Middle East or South Asia or that Special Forces operations around the globe will cease or even be cut back. If present budget proposals remain close to what they are, Biden’s first Pentagon budget will check in at around 1.7 percent more than Trump’s last budget. After all, history tells us that when economic and political coercion fails, war and threats of war often follow. Therefore, the war department’s budget must never decrease.

    This post was originally published on Radio Free.