It’s been quite a spring. Some say it started in December 2010 with the self-sacrifice of Tunisian street vendor Muhammad Bouazzizi. Many have said it started long before that, with the years of multigenerational organizing, grassroots movement building, and worker strikes. But if we are to understand the sweep of pro-democracy demonstrations from Tunisia to Egypt to Yemen, Syria, Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, and beyond as more than a series of unrelated events, then exactly how should we characterize them?
Plenty of journalists and politicians have used metaphors of disease, calling the spread of revolt a “virus.” Nahda (awakening, renaissance) is the term many media commentators in the Arab world have used to describe the revolutions and protests that have been birthed across North Africa and the Middle East.
Nonviolent revolution—if we agree that’s what is happening—is not an event at all but a current, like electricity running through underground cables. When the groundwork has been well laid, we can plug into this electric current to see its power at work. Revolutionary nonviolence is not a protest or even a series of them but is the power of the people itself. What we saw in Egypt’s Tahrir Square when Hosni Mubarak refused to step down as president was a current so strong it kept the crowds there, refusing to back down until their demands were met. Even after Mubarak’s departure, they stayed, calling for his trial as a criminal.
And what of Wisconsin and other Midwestern states whose residents rallied against the stripping of their union bargaining rights, healthcare, and public education? Parallels were quickly drawn between Tahrir Square and Wisconsin’s occupied capitol building, and not without some reason, for a similar spirit of nonviolence, unity, and defiance were seen in those who refused to make deals with police to tone down or disperse the gathering (see Joy First’s firsthand account in this issue).
These connections were not lost on Hassan Jum’a, President of the Iraqi Federation of Oil Unions, who wrote a letter of solidarity to U.S. activists involved in the struggle for workers’ rights (reprinted in these pages). International solidarity surely played a role in strengthening the revolutionary current that recognizes fewer and fewer national borders.
Of course, solidarity doesn’t mean that we’re one cohesive unit with the same needs and struggles, the same enemies and aims. In this issue of WIN, Raha Iranian Feminist Collective points to U.S. sanctions of Iran and uncovers the deep pain they cause its people. Further along in the issue, we hear from Rebecca Vilkomerson of Jewish Voice for Peace on the movement for boycott, divestment, and sanctions (BDS) against Israel and the companies that profit from Israel’s occupation of Palestine. Initiated by Palestinians living in occupied territories, BDS seeks to defund illegal Israeli settlements in the West Bank and Gaza and supports Palestinians’ right to return to their homes and land.
This spring, many U.S. cities were graced with a visit from Malalai Joya, former Afghan parliamentarian, outspoken defender of women’s rights, and critic of her country’s warlords and the U.S. occupation of Afghanistan. Of her visit, she said in an interview, “I also met some soldiers and families who lost their sons or daughters serving in my country. I told them, ‘Please take your sorrows to the streets. Condolences are not enough. Raise your voice more strongly against the occupation and this brutal war in Afghanistan.’”
With so many voices being raised these past months, it seems less difficult to imagine an even more massive awakening with the potential to end U.S. wars and occupations, bring down U.S.-backed dictators, win rights for workers and immigrants, and build real solidarity among our movements. Once the sun begins to rise, who can stop it?
Good morning!
