February 23, 2012

Protesting Violence

I read an article by Marcus Gee in the Globe and Mail today (Why some G20 protesters won’t condemn violence).  The piece looked at a number of groups protesting the G20 who were unwilling to renounce violence: Creative Queer Resistance, Toronto Community Mobilization Network, and the Southern Ontario Anarchist Resistance among others.  The last of these was quoted as organizing against the “capatalist, colonial, racist, patriarchal, homophobic, transphobic Canadian state” with “militant and confrontational action”.  Therein lies a major problem.

Yes, the status quo that basically rules what we do and how we think is pulling us all down, and every expression of patriarchy cited above belongs to that status quo.  But whoever aims to overthrow patriarchy by subscribing to its means (“militant and confrontational action”) is either unwittingly committed to replacing one form of patriarchy with another, or is simply blinded to the fact that to activate and rely on the means perfected by patriarchy will inevitably reinforce it.  The end may not justify the means, but the means always justify the tacit values that underlie them.

In other words, violent protest against the organizers of the G20 will justify and more deeply entrench the role they have chosen for themselves.  It will justify the hundreds of millions of dollars they have spent on security.  It will tacitly assert that might is right.  And it will reinforce how important their mission is even it strives to undermine it.  There is so much anger and frustration and anxiety in the world that it’s easy to tap into those roots and express rage once a target has been identified.  It feels good to say, “Fuck you”, and move in a mob that “leaves Bay Street blazing”, as one rap video puts it.  But let us distinguish between what merely feels good, and the deep, deep need to engage with our wounded world and help it heal.

If we are to change the status quo, we first have to recognize it, name it, and feel it living within us.  That is really the main task I took on when I wroteNew Self, New World.  We are all up against some long-standing and profoundly embodied habits of being – habits that have been practiced since the Neolithic Revolution took hold (which anthropologist and author Hugh Brody aptly calls the Neolithic Catastrophe).  I think anyone undertaking that work with honesty is inevitably led to the conclusion that the violence we commit against others is always a reflection of the violence we commit against ourselves – against our own being.  I call the source of that self-conflict our “inner patriarchy”.  The organizers of the G20 are as stuck in those cycles of violence as we are, and no act of violence will awaken them to that fact.

The G20

“Meetings of nations are always better than not having meetings of nations. I think, however, they should have their meetings on that island of floating plastic [garbage] in the Pacific. They should sit there, and look at that and make their decisions.” — singer/songwriter Bruce Cockburn

The G20 is coming to Toronto, and the city is being bent out of shape to accommodate it: concrete barriers cutting across public spaces, chain-link fences erected down the middle of city streets, businesses closed, snipers strategically positioned. What I find most interesting about all of this is that the way we defend our heads of state from the unruly inconveniences of reality exactly parallels the way, within our own bodies, we defend the rule of the head from the nitty gritty inconveniences of reality. And that nitty gritty is what most deeply informs us about the world’s reality.

This is something I write about in New Self, New World. When we live in our heads, we shut out the sensations of the world: we position ourselves in a realm that is largely cut off from feeling. Here’s the main difference: instead of erecting chain-link fences, we erect our ideas about the world, like a set of theatre flats that stand between us and the eloquent flux of ‘what is’. And the way we presume to act and think – not in harmony with ‘what is’, but according to our static ideas of ‘what is’ – is exactly how our heads of state debate policies to shape our future. Cossetted at every turn, spared every possible inconvenience, fed only the information they have agreed to listen to, they inevitably seek to perpetuate the fantasy they have chosen to live. In their deliberate exile from the world’s reality, they cannot do otherwise.

And so I agree with Bruce Cockburn. Send the lot of them out to live for a week on that growing continent, the Great Pacific Garbage Patch – which we inadvertently created and contribute to every day. Let them smell it and live with its unthinkable, massive expanse. Let them feel the despair. And then let them begin the conversation.

The dust has settled

The book is finished.  I’m bewildered, amazed, spent, ecstatic and grateful beyond speaking.  After a decade working at it – tracing out miles of pencil lead over countless sheets of paper – and decades more than that researching it and living out its premises and preparing for the task of writing – it is finally done.  For the first time in many years I am suddenly no longer someone who is writing a book.  No more changes, corrections, edits or new perceptions to weave into it.  And the funny thing is, I’m not being tugged at by regrets or desires to rework or add or delete.  New Self, New World seems to have become what it needed to be.  It has come to rest in itself.  And now I begin a new chapter in my own life.

It’s been three and a half weeks since the manuscript was sent off to the printer, and that’s how long it’s taken me to begin to pull the neglected corners of my life back into the light, and into a semblance of order.  The cord of wood at the side of the house has been split and stacked.  The toilet repaired.  My study excavated and two boxes of drafts and notes stashed away in the crawlspace (maybe someday an archivist will thank me, or perhaps the papers will just go up in flames over the course of a dark winter, starting evening fires.  Either way, I’m content).  When I first started the book (and I was ambushed by it, awakened in the night by its sudden arrival, and it wouldn’t let go, not even when the light of day appeared, not even when weeks turned into months) I talked with my wife about it and told her that if I worked on it full time, I thought I could have a first draft completed in about six weeks.  I don’t know if there has ever in the history of writing been as grave an underestimation as that, but the fact is that if I had been told at the time how long it would actually take to complete, I would have said, “Forget it, then.  I just can’t afford to.”  Ignorance may not be bliss, but sometimes it’s a blessing.

Now that New Self, New World is wrapped, I’ll need some place into which my ideas and questions can be channeled, so I’ll be blogging on a regular basis.  I note wryly that I wrote two blogs in ’08, and only one in ’09.  Well, I was still in labour, bringing my book forth into the world.  My fondest hope is that, once it arrives, it will strike up some close friendships, and initiate some rich conversations with its readers.