Stanford University Urban Studies &
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I walk past this painting of Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. multiple times a day at the ACLU San Diego office. It seemed an appropriated way to set the stage. I’d love to write about the report on policies and practices regarding the treatment of immigrant communities I’ve been compiling, or the calls I’ve been making for the Deported Veterans project, but Charlottesville happened. And shortly before, the ACLU of Virginia went to court and argued that the white supremacists should be allowed to protest the removal of the statue of Robert E. Lee in Emancipation Park (the presence of such a statue in a park thus named emerges as a contradiction of the most absurd variety) and not, as the city would have it, in a larger park a mile away. The judge found the argument compelling and, well, we know how the rest of the story goes. Who can say if events would have turned out differently had the protest been relocated to a larger space; more concerning for me, the staff here at the ACLU of San Diego, and the rest of the country, was the fact that our partners in Virginia represented the organizers of the rally and for a brief, eternal moment the ACLU stood behind Neo-Nazis and the Ku Klux Klan. In their first breath of response, some might defend the ACLU for its principled defense of free speech. But those who think the conversation ends there, seem to not grasp the whole picture. First off, the image of the gun-toting, armor-clad white supremacists is seared into my mind. One can hardly imagine that a Black Lives Matter-led protest would be met with the same level of police restraint had they taken the streets armed in such a fashion. So before we even address the odious content of the message that the white supremacists were intent on delivering, there is the question of how that message is delivered. Moreover, when it comes to “free speech,” we need to talk about how the racism embedded in this nation’s institutions affects who gets to exercise that right. Even without a sympathizer in the Oval Office, white nationalists benefit from a certain level of power and privilege in virtue of the very injustices they seek to perpetuate. To help put this into focus, given that the first amendment is intended to promote the advancement of democratic and egalitarian values, its abuse by the tiki torch tantrum troupe is like a vacuum cleaner that belches soot and sludge on carpet that is already so splotchy it looks like a 3rd grader’s attempt at abstract impressionism. Now, this is not to say that the white supremacists should be denied the right to peaceful assembly; but rather that the ACLU does not need to expend its time and resources defending that right. Blind adherence to principle will do far less for the cause of racial justice than careful consideration of its application in the context of hierarchies of power and privilege that have persisted in this country for too long. The claim that racial equity is not achieved through strict and consistent application of principle across all cases is not a new one. Its validity has been acknowledged in arguments supporting affirmative action and reparations (for the injustices of slavery, Jim Crowe, housing discrimination and so forth), and its importance to this conversation surrounding free speech cannot be understated. In deciding whether or not to advocate on behalf of the white supremacists, it at first appears that the ACLU is forced to choose between a principle of free speech and one of racial justice: that our guiding morals have led us into some kind of genuine ethical dilemma. However, I think that apparent contradiction can, with careful thinking, be resolved. But first, I want to make it perfectly clear that I am speaking solely from my own perspective and not on behalf of this organization. The key, I think, for the ACLU, when white supremacists come knocking on our door the next time, is to pay close attention not just to the action that we choose to take, but also to the reasons we give ourselves for taking that action, so that we avoid incurring a kind of hypocrisy when it comes time to hold fast to our principles down the line. A bit more on this: It would not suffice to say that we will not advocate for these people simply because we do not agree with them. Though that is certainly within our rights as an organization, it gives us little credibility when it comes time to defend the civil liberties of the groups whose efforts we support. On the other hand, it would not suffice to support these people simply on the grounds that free speech must be defended consistently and indiscriminately. Though in the past we have advocated for free speech groups with whom we disagree, a decision on the aforementioned basis alone fails to recognize the context and consequences of that support at such a time as this. Furthermore, it leaves us without any kind of answer when the communities of color with whom we work ask us, “Why should we trust you? You represented the Klan.” So, in order to best honor our commitment to justice on all fronts and the democratic and egalitarian ideals upon which this nation was founded, we must provide reasoning that is grounded in a recognition that when it comes to free speech the playing field is not even. As an organization that stands in defense of fundamental rights, we are called to address the inequities of today that arise from the deprivation of those rights yesterday. And so we will go to the defense of those who need us, those whose voices are threatened to be drowned out by raving calls for “blood and soil.” White supremacy does not need the ACLU. We stand for those without privilege and without power, and the day white supremacy* has none of those things is the day that this organization will no longer need to exist. And right now, that day seems a long way off. In Solidarity, Sebastian Green *I'm taking some liberties here. It goes without saying that the fight for justice necessarily must go beyond racial justice. I fully acknowledge the intersectional nature of this work and I don't mean to diminish the importance of efforts combating injustice with regard to sexism, homophobia, xenophobia, poverty, and/or religious discrimination (and so forth).
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AuthorThis blog is authored by Stanford University students engaged in summer fellowships through the Cardinal Quarter and the Program on Urban Studies. All writings and thoughts belong to the Fellows and do not represent the opinion of the sponsoring programs. Archives
September 2018
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