I am grateful to writer/activist Rebecca Solnit for her thoughtful discussion “The way we get through this is together.” Held on Martin Luther King Day, the conversation with Liz Ogbu, Akaya Windwood, Bill McKibben, Charlie Jane Anders, and Anand Giridharadas offers ways to “celebrate community and cultivate a pathway for hope in these dark times.” It is a rich, thoughtful discussion, reflecting expansive experiences by people deeply engaged in efforts to create a just and peaceful world. 

As the first week of Trump’s presidency unfolds, I have been thinking about key ideas they explored. One that I have found helpful is to consider the distinction between reaction and response.

The joy in Gaza at the announcement of a cease fire agreement has dominated the news. Announced on January 15^th, the 96^th birthday of Martin Luther King, the Biden administration said a cease fire would begin Sunday, January 19. Immediately people danced, hugged, sang, cried, and cheered at the possibilities of peace. It was an outpouring of relief at the end of a nightmare.

Across the country people gather at the end of January for a celebration of the life of Martin Luther King, Jr.  It is a time when we remember the people who struggled for a vision of America rooted in compassion, love, justice and peace. This year Detroiters organized to 22^nd annual commemoration under the banner “Six Decades of Mass Movements: The Struggle Continues.” Emphasizing our city’s long history in efforts for a just and peaceful world, the celebration is held at the Historic St. Mathew’s-St. Joseph’s Episcopal Church, a home of the Underground Railroad in the 19^th Century, a critical site in the Northern Highschool Student Strike in the 20th Century, and an important place for organizing in the 21^st Century as we face continued assaults on the lives of people.  This year, the national celebration is also the day we will witness the inauguration of Donald Trump as the President of the United States.

The turning of the year is an opportunity for reflection. This past year has held little joy. It has been a year of extraordinary cruelty and destruction.  It closed with the election of Donald Trump and the new year will open with his inauguration. Collective, creative solutions to the accelerating crises we face seem far away. We know there will be more suffering in this coming year.  We know that values we cherish are not only ridiculed but criminalized.

For most of my life, Syria has been dominated by the brutality of the Assad regime.  Hafez al-Assad came to power in 1971, ruling with an iron fist. In 2000 he handed power over to his son, Bashar al-Assad. For a brief moment the younger Assad offered some hope for a more open government, but this quickly faded. Since 2011, Assad’s response to the Arab Spring has been especially violent, marked by political repression, imprisonment, torture, and death to those who dared to disagree with him.

On December 4^th, members of the Boggs Center journeyed to Ann Arbor to meet with students to talk about what we have learned from our movement experiences that might help them navigate the growing fascist atmosphere descending on their campus and campuses around the country. 

Among us, we carried more than 60 years of history, including activism sparked by the 1967 rebellion, anti-Vietnam war organizing, the Black Panther Party, and deep engagement with local, visionary organizing work.

Separating truth from lies is difficult. It will become even more problematic over the next few years. During the last Trump presidency media outlets tracked the daily lies flowing from the oval office. In four years, reporters documented 30,573 false claims. Today much of that media is in greater disarray. And we have just experienced an election where people voted on a vision of the country that had no basis in fact. 

Developing a shared social reality is essential for effective political action. That is why the recent series of articles unpacking the voting behavior of this last election are welcome.

The horrifying contours of the Trump administration are emerging. Many of us are asking what now? We know we are facing serious questions. How at a time of such crises can we move toward more human and socially responsible ways of being? Resistance is essential. Yet there are larger concerns that we need to face if we are to understand the depth of the changes we must make to create a better world.

I was not surprised by the Trump victory. I had prepared myself for what I thought would be a long, contested election. I imagined we would face a situation much like in 2016 where Trump would lose the popular vote, but carry the Electoral College. I was prepared for any number of tricks, from Trump’s secret plans to violence at the ballot boxes. 

This week the Coalition for Police Transparency and Accountability (CPTA) and Urban Praxis joined with other community groups to discuss police surveillance in Detroit. People gathered to share information and ideas about the extent and effectiveness of surveillance techniques used by the Detroit Police.

Several key ideas emerged:

A fair argument can be made that Donald Trump is an isolationist. But he is not against war. Isolationism is one of the longest standing political philosophies in the U.S. and has attracted people from the far right to those who identify as progressive anti-capitalists.  

Often drawing its roots from George Washington’s Farewell address warning against entanglements in Europe, the 1920’s and 1930’s saw an expansion of the ideas.  The experiences of World War I led to the understanding that Americans had been pushed to war by bankers and industry who profited from dealing in death. The 1934 publication of Merchants of Death, followed by War is a Racket in 1935 gave isolationism a strong anti-capitalist sentiment.

Early this week Kamala Harris said it was fine with her to describe Donald Trump as “fascist.” By the end of the week, she had been joined by Gen. Mark A. Milley, Hillary Clinton, and Liz Cheney. The use of the term fascist to describe Trump’s peculiar brand of politics moved J.D. Vance to object. Vance said it was an incitement to violence.  Vance, of course, raises no such objections when Trump flings the term at Harris.

We should all welcome this political clarity in describing Trump. Many of us remember that efforts to use the term fascist  in 2016 were met with derision.  We were accused of overreacting and diminishing the real horrors of fascism.

This election cycle reveals the deep divide in the U.S.  No matter who wins in November, those of us who are concerned about creating a better world have a lot of work to do. Fully half the people in our country has embraced candidates who vilify other human beings,  support draconian laws assaulting basic human rights, and speak glibly of executing political rivals. Rambling falsehoods and dark descriptions of daily life abound at rallies and in what passes for news coverage in an ever partisan and fragmented media world.

It is easy to think that Donald Trump is the source of these problems. Certainly, he has taken conspiracy theories and outright lying to new dimensions. He has promoted the “Big Lie” that the previous election was stolen from him and he persistently denies facts. At the same time his crude, coarse, bullying makes him a good target for our frustrations and fears.

The world has witnessed one year of escalating barbarism. Each day we are moving closer to global destruction. In response, people are gathering to demand a cease fire and a US arms embargo on Israel. We are longing for a just path to peace. Yet those in authority continue to justify death and destruction.

The U.N. Secretary-General, António Guterres, issued a sober assessment of where the world stands today. He began by repeating his “utter condemnation” of the attacks by Hamas and the taking of hostages saying, “nothing can justify such acts.” He then concluded:

The dangers of Detroit’s unaccountable police department were on display this week. In a saga that is becoming all too familiar, the reliance on an expensive technology led to the detention of a young woman, the traumatizing of her small son, and the costly disruption of her daily life. In this case, Isoke Robinson was attacked by a SWAT team while sitting in her car with her son on a warm night, using the air conditioning to lessen the impact of the heat. 

The police had deduced her car was involved in a non-fatal drive by shooting. They found her car by depending on expensive license plate reader technology.  There was no evidence that Ms. Robinson’s car, or Ms. Robinson, had any connection to the shooting. Ms. Robinson is now suing the city for unreasonable seizure, intentional infliction of emotional distress, false imprisonment and negligence. She and her son still experience distress from the incident.

This is one of many from a growing list of police abuses of technology.  As a recent article in the Detroit Free Press commented:

This week marks the 23rd anniversary of the attack by Al Qaeda hijackers crashing two planes into the Twin Towers in New York, the Pentagon, and a field in Pennsylvania. Kamala Harris and Donald Trump both attended the ceremonies commemorating those lost.

This year the ceremony in New York took place not only against the backdrop of one of the most crucial elections ever facing this country, but in the context of growing movements for peace, challenging the military might of US empire. These movements, fueled by the courageous challenges to US military support of Israel, are the first real questionings of US military power since 9/11. Public attitude and polices combined in the aftermath of the attacks to effectively silence criticism of US corporate greed and use of military force to advance state interests. These movements today are challenging the powers of government to attack those whose conscience moves them to object to US policies. And they are challenging concept of the US military empire.

The Justice Coalition held a demonstration this week to increase the pressure on the Detroit Police Department to release the body camera images that were taken at the time of Sherman Lee Butler’s death, allegedly from shots fired by a bailiff from the 36^th District Court.

I was profoundly moved by the appearance of the Reverand Jesse Jackson at this year’s democratic convention. The Democratic Party and the country are better because of him. As Rep. Pramila Jayapal (D-Wash.) said, “The progressive caucus arose from the vision of Jesse Jackson.” He paved the way for Barack Obama and made space for Kamala Harris.  His two-time run for the presidency brought a deeper understanding to the country of the dignity of those who had been locked out, locked up, despised and disrespected. His 1984 speech to the Convention, “Our Time Has Come” speech stands out as a compelling vision of the values essential for a living democracy.

The Democratic National Convention was filled with energy and hope for a better future. There was a recognition that we are facing historic choices with far reaching consequences. In her acceptance speech Kamala Harris named the moment saying:

“With this election, our nation has a precious, fleeting opportunity to move past the bitterness, cynicism and divisive battles of the past. A chance to chart a new way forward. Not as members of any one party or faction, but as Americans.”

The convention offered thoughtful, rousing, courageous, and often playful comments about the choices in front of us.

This week much of the country will be watching the Democratic National Convention unfold in Chicago. For many people the parallels to the 1968 convention are unmistakable. It is a vivid reminder that public demonstrations matter. And that they are rarely welcomed by those in authority.

In 1968, demonstrations fueled by a desire for dignity at home and peace in Vietnam forced an incumbent president to withdraw from the presidential campaign. The nation was deeply divided over an increasingly unpopular administration and demonstrations demanding peace were growing stronger and more vocal.  The Chicago Police Department was well known for its anti-democratic, violent use of force.  The ultimate selection of Vice President Hubert Humphrey as the candidate was an effort to transcend these differences.  Humphrey was defeated by Richard Nixon, who went on to continue war policies and to crack down on demonstrations.