Reflections on Cochabamba, Part 5: Working Groups, Capitalism vs. Socialsim and what might be in between
Before the conference, some of the working groups’ themes just plain scared me. I
did not want to get into discussing structural causes of climate
change, a climate justice tribunal, climate debt, financing, or the
dangers of the carbon market. First of all, I was not very informed on some of these subjects. I felt I could contribute more to other topics. But there was more than that. I
was not convinced of the validity of some of the topics, or that they
were the best strategies to create worldwide consensus around climate
change.
One of my concerns about the tone of some of the documents I had seen relating to these themes is that they seemed to me to be rhetoric instead of deeply-thought-about considerations and solutions. Much of the wording seemed to be repetitive and the thinking to me was black and white, oversimplifying complex issues into good and evil. I believed in many of the concepts presented, such as favoring harmony with nature over unlimited (economic) growth, but I didn’t consider that I was anti capitalism in all forms
Structural causes of climate change was another way of saying that we need to get rid of capitalism as a system. Although
I have long been an advocate of people before profits,
anti-consumerism, anti-competition, and anti-multi national
corporations, I felt that these were extreme imbalances in the
capitalistic system, sometimes referred to as corporate capitalism, and
that some of the practices in capitalism, mainly innovation and small
business entrepreneurship, are valuable and beneficial overall. Indeed,
one of the highlights of the conference was the large-scale fair-like
atmosphere that prevailed outside of the meeting rooms and
auditoriums—two long meandering rows of booths where people,
organizations, and companies were giving away or selling information,
books, CDs, T-shirts, plants, herbs, components, and more. This was one
of the most vibrant and energetic parts of the conference, a reflection
of the diversity of the gathering, a way to share with each other that
was spontaneous and often one-on-one. There were also vendors selling
beverages and all kinds of cooked and prepared foods, both on the
grounds of the university where much of the conference took place, and
along the streets on the way to the event. Here was capitalism in the midst of the cries to eliminate capitalism.
As a person who has spent much of her adult life self-employed, I am in some ways an example of a capitalist. I have benefited from tax breaks in the US that favor small business. True, I have undertaken enterprises that I have considered right livelihood, in which people came before profits, and many aspects of these enterprises were considered illegal by the larger culture of which I was a part (herbal medicine, homebirth midwifery, even selling jewelry on street corners in Mexico was technically against the law in many of the towns we frequented, and doing so while in possession of a tourist visa was not allowed). I had no bank account for years, and worked mostly for cash, sometimes for barter. I was willing and eager to, and did, give up the American Dream and live outside of the US for much of my adult life, instead choosing to experiment with the idea of Living Well. Yet, even with my background, I found myself squirming when I read the frequent anti-capitalist sentiments in conference literature and on the website. I noticed my discomfort but didn’t dwell on it. I looked for ideas that I resonated with, of which there were many, and I was curious about what I would find when I actually journeyed south. Later I would become ready to look further into my resistance to these ideas.
I must admit that it has been hard for me to imagine giving up having the final say in the decisions in my own life, even if that is an illusion in the culture we live in. I watched the development of state socialism or communism in other parts of the world in my youth; although I did not pay close attention, what I understood about these systems did not endear me to them even as I struggled with the concepts and realities of capitalism. Perhaps my feelings have the same roots as wealthy persons who protest sharing their resources with all members of society; I hope not, but am trying to understand where and how my feelings have originated. I fear the loss of my artistic license, the freedom to think and act for myself, to be a unique individual. I fear it because I have found myself on the fringe, or cutting edge, or someplace not where most people’s comfort zones lie, for most of my life, even as a child. Ideas I first considered a generation ago, on a wide range of topics, are starting to take hold in today’s world. I thrive when I allow my intuition to lead me and my mind to explore whatever ideas show up. I don’t want to give up my unique perspective or the choice to live as I see fit; even if I do so at the expense of wealth, security, or social approval, in the greater North American culture, I am still able to make those choices.
I remembered my early years in Mexico when I had discovered that capitalism and communism both served as models in distinct economic situations in that country, instead of vilifying communism and glorifying capitalism as we do in the US. I loved that! I loved that people could find what worked in a given situation and use that model, instead of being stuck on only one way of doing things. For example, the modern-day ejido system is a process whereby the government promotes the use of communal land shared by the people of the community. The ejido system was introduced as an important component of the land reform program that began in Mexico after Lazaras Cardenas became President in 1934. It was one of the promises of the Mexican Constitution of 1917. Ejidatarios did not actually own the land, but were allowed to use their allotted parcels indefinitely as long as they did not fail to use the land for more than two years. They could even pass their rights on to their children.
Like Living Well in the Andes, the concept of the ejido in Mexico is prehispanic; however, present day ejidos stem from the theories of democratic communism. Our US
society is based on democratic capitalism in which the individual and
not the community determines what he or she is going to do. In a
communistic society the community as a whole determines what it is going
to do, including agreeing upon how the land they hold is to be used.
I am not sure as to the status of ejidos in the Mexico of today. In 1991, President Carlos Salinas de Gortari eliminated the constitutional right to ejidos, citing the "low productivity" of communally owned land. Salinas de Gortari was one of a series of Mexican Presidents who had been educated at Harvard. He also signed NAFTA into law in 1992. Certainly the big boys in Mexico, the US, and Canada felt that NAFTA was the way to guarantee economic growth and stability in North America, at least on the books of the governments and in the pockets of the multi-national corporations. From the beginning, the Zapatistas in Chiapas protested the move, and declared that it would adversely affect the small farmer and merchant in Mexico, which it did. There are those, I’m sure, who will still argue that NAFTA and the embracing of capitalism over concepts such as the ejido were necessary to protect the economy in Mexico. Yet, although immigration from Mexico to the US has been ongoing for the last hundred years or so, there are many more immigrants today than there were before NAFTA was enacted. These numbers far exceed what could be accounted from more members of a younger generation.
During a trip to Venezuela last spring, on my way
to the People’s Conference, I began aware of the difference between
state socialism and what has been called 21st century socialism, which includes participatory democracy, especially on a local level. The main values of 21st socialism are said to be liberty, equality, social justice, and sustainability. I am intrigued and I want to learn more. Twenty first century socialism seems to offer solutions to the drawbacks of state socialism of the twentieth century.
Still, there are those in the US who shut down upon the mention of the word ‘socialism’. I asked a relative recently what her concerns were, and she answered that if people’s basic needs are met, they won’t be motivated. In their late 70s, my relatives had grown up in the Depression and seen a variety of economic policies over their lifetimes, as well as the promise and benefits in their own lives that economic growth and materialism brought them. They were hard workers who had dedicated their lives to getting the comfort and security that they had set out to achieve. They were concerned about their tax dollars paying for social programs for others who weren’t as motivated to ‘put their nose to the grindstone’. Having made very different choices in my own adult life, I am now looking at how I can reach people such as them, listen to their concerns and point of view, and share mine, without alienating them altogether. We made a good start during our recent visit, but dialog/conversation/consensus takes time, and before it can begin, all parties need to be interested enough to show up.
Before I even set out on my journey south, I noticed that I sometimes felt afraid about what lay ahead. As
much as I would like to see myself as someone not influenced by fear,
especially in these circumstances, I cannot say that this was so. I did hold a place of fear in my heart as I journeyed south. It was not just about the unknown. I
was hesitant about going into a strange situation by myself if the
dominant attitude there was hostility to the US, not just the government
but also the people. I was not sure if there would be
hostility and if so, how much hostility, towards US citizens, at the
conference. I did not feel passionate about either defending or
apologizing for what might be considered structural causes of climate
change, which I understood to mean capitalism. I did not
feel that I had the tools, the knowledge and the understanding, to
engage in debate about some of the working group topics. I
did not feel that I had the wherewithal or conviction to stand up for
and state clearly and out loud what I believed if it was very different
from the consensus of a group at the conference involved with one of the
topics that I considered controversial.
I have mixed feelings about the idea that a people need to pay for something that their ancestors have done. I have also felt at various points in my life that I was blamed for what white people in the past have done even though I was not related to them and that the people from whom I am descended, the Jews, were also persecuted over thousands of years. Historically, the Jewish people were not aggressors and conquerors; they were enslaved and yes, sometimes had slaves, but for the most part, asked to be left alone to practice their faith in peace. Judaism traditionally was a Patriarchal culture, and that is one reason I grew away from it as I came of age. However, my ancestors did not come to the US until the early 20th century, and there are still those who would hold me responsible for how the slaves were treated in the 18th and 19th centuries. Appearances are deceiving—I am Caucasian and look more like those in the dominant US culture than other minorities. Without knowing the historical context of this nation, one could easily lump all white people together. For example, many of my friends from Latin America have been shocked when I told them that John Kennedy was the first Catholic president in the US and how much that was an issue in his election. Generally, from where they come, all of the presidents have been Catholic. I also understand that in my lifetime I have reaped some of the benefits and privileges that grew out of the exploitation of slaves and others in early US history; I have also contributed to social justice on many levels and tried to not exploit my entitlements. Being prejudged and attacked based on the color of my skin and my nationality was what I feared at Cochabamba. I have learned that there are no arguments that are valid for those who want to point the finger at others. And that it has not been the best use of my time, energy, resources, and talents to engage on these issues.
In the document that shared the final conclusion of working group 1, structural causes, I found this quote--- Capitalism responds through militarization, repression and war to the resistance of the people.
But for me, coming to the south from the north, I see that this has been a pattern far more in the south than in the north. We
the people in the north have not yet been attacked violently on the
same level and with the frequency as have the people in the global
south. It’s true that some minorities and those in certain neighborhoods
or social strata more often meet with violence from armed officials of
the government; still, it happens more on a one-on-one basis. To date,
we have not yet violated the agreement in the US that the military not
take action against protesters on our own soil. The history of
militarization, repression and war to the resistance of the people in
the global south terrifies me. I am drawn to the hope and
possibility resonating from many of the documents written for and by
those at the People’s conference while being fully aware of the
repressive history of the region, and that it has lacked stability for
many years. The recent resurgence of leftist leaders is
exciting to witness, and it is easy to jump on the bandwagon with the
hope and activism of masses. But it is not the whole story. The
US and other industrialized nations have played a big part in the long
standing repression of the people of Latin America, but not the only
part. The School of the Americas, which has trained
paramilitary torturers and many involved in recent coups and
would-be-coups in the global south, also exists because the governments
of nations in the south send their personnel there for training.
As a friend from Ecuador pointed out, political
leaders there rarely if ever have lasted a full term even when
democratically elected. The people in Latin America have lived with
unstable governments, dictators, violence as a means of political
change, and a wide gap between the rich and the rest of the population
of any given country, since the Europeans first landed there.
The ideas and solutions that I had thought to offer at the conference were based on shifts in attitudes and practices within the current economic and social structure of the global north. Permaculture Design works to change invisible structures, but, would the others (Fossil Free by ’33 and Architecture 2030) be considered as false solutions as mentioned in the final conclusions, Working Group 1, Structural Causes: “Today, “climate change” has become a business for the capitalist system. Governments and ¨developed¨ countries are promising so-called ¨green¨ reforms of the system. These mechanisms of technological innovation are directed by the creation of new sources of investment and business under the pretext that this technology will resolve the climate crisis”. I guess that they would have been rejected as such, although I never found out, since I did not participate in the Structural Changes group. Naively, I came to Bolivia bearing the best gifts I could find from the region in which I lived. And after the Inauguration was over, I headed over to join those dedicated to achieving consensus around Harmony with Nature.
A Permaculture designer, water harvesting advocate, and longtime environmental steward, Barbara Wishingrad, attended the Peoples’ World Conference on Climate Change in Cochabamba, Bolivia, April 19-22, 2010, along with 35, 000 other people. She also traveled with a delegation from SOA Watch to Venezuela to visit clinics, schools, cooperatives,and other social programs under the Hugo Chavez government. Barbara has worked as an herbalist, homebirth midwife, street artist, interpreter, and with special needs babies, among other things; she is currently organizing a Water Harvesting Co-op in the Santa Barbara area. Barbara has lived and worked among indigenous artisans and midwives and has made sharing indigenous wisdom an important part of her life work. She is founder and President of Nurturing Across Cultures, formerly The Rebozo Way Project:http://www.nurturingacrosscultures.org
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