6. Gun violence is
a single SPECIES in the larger GENUS of violence that must be situated.
The considerations in
this section of my rant on guns should, also, be pretty basic to a discussion
of the problem of guns in the U.S. The
problem prompting legislatures at the state and federal level to waste many
hours in discussion of bills that have little prospect of becoming laws or
standing up to Constitutional muster is not merely the production, sale,
distribution, and possession of firearms, nor is it the mere utilization
of firearms against human beings (police officers are sometimes forced to
discharge their weapons in their own defense or in defense of the peace, but
legislators are not concerned about this use of firearms). It is a particular species of the use of
firearms – the use of firearms by private individuals against other human
beings in order to achieve effects that would be construed as
illegal. This variety of gun
violence needs to be situated against other types of violence where, in an
abstract philosophical sense, I would define violence as any human
action intended to either disrupt (offensive/transformative) or reinforce
(defensive/reactive) a social status quo. What I am implying here is that we can construct a taxonomy of
violence, where gun violence of different types could be situated in relation
to other forms of violence.
In
this regard, there are multiple dimensions to what I characterize as violence. The first, implied above, involves the relationship
of a violent act to the social status quo – whether the act is intended to
disrupt the status quo or to defend it (i.e. reacting to
disruptive/offensive/transformative violence).
A second dimension involves the physical or non-physical nature of
the violence – whether the violence is waged against persons or property or
whether it is waged against non-physical institutions. A third dimension involves the scale
– both whether the violence is waged by individuals or by collective
bodies/organizations and the geographic dimensions of the violence being
performed (i.e. geographical continuity or dispersion, overall geographic size
of affected spaces, pathways for transmission of effects). A fourth dimension involves degrees of intentionality
and contemplation – whether a violent act is premeditated and
subject to extensive consideration and planning or an impetuous act
undertaken within a state of emotional duress, if not a complete accident. These four dimensions, considered as
continua/continuous ranges relative to each dimension, might be enough to
consider in theorizing what violence is, but I would go a little further to add
that most violent acts are not singular processes, but assemblages/networks,
where, when I am talking about a network I mean a collection/complex of
processes or agents (human and non-human) that gets assembled together and described as if it was a
whole even though it is just a collection of linked up parts.
The
way I have conceptualized violence here sets it up as a fundamental
philosophical issue that could be theorized over hundreds or thousands of pages
as an inescapable part of the human condition – every change in the lives of
individuals and the societies in which they live would be violence. If I went too far with this it would
completely overwhelm the rest of my rant on guns! I want to play with it just a little more, however, because I
think that the theme of violence is extremely important as a matter of
political change (i.e. political violence/revolution) and, maybe a little bit,
because it reveals a little bit more about me, my politics, and what I think
about violence.
Reasoning
through my dimensions and networks, the 2003 U.S. invasion of Iraq involves a
highly complex network of offensive/transformative lethal physical acts against
human life and property, deliberately planned on a strategic level but subject
to infinitely impetuous/subconscious variation on the most microscopically
tactical level (e.g. the actions of a single U.S. Army infantryman or Marine,
trained and armed to inflict deadly violence with minimal contemplation,
confronting a single armed Mahdi militiaman while his squad tries to clear
houses of opposing forces in Sadr City in the aftermath of the initial
invasion). It implicates whole
organizations of agents (i.e. the Baath-party regime of Hussein in Iraq with
its armed forces and militias against the military forces of a U.S.-led
“alliance of the willing”) and is conceived with an offensive/transformative
end goal, transforming a political status quo (i.e. “regime change”). The geography of the invasion and the slew
of network pathways involved in it, including not only the space of Iraq, but
the space of U.S. and U.K. military bases and command facilities, bases in countries
like Kuwait and Bahrain, and all the pathways (air, sea, and
virtual/electronic) in between, underscore just the massive scalar dimensions
of this assemblage of violence.
If
this constitutes one obvious species of what I regard as violence, the
Montgomery, Alabama bus boycott of 1955-56 constitutes another, less obvious
one. This event constituted a
deliberate, planned and executed assemblage of offensive/transformative,
non-physical violent acts against property (i.e. the Montgomery city bus system)
by a loosely configured collective within the Black community of Montgomery,
organized through the Montgomery Improvement Association led by Dr. Martin
Luther King, Jr., and supported, financially and otherwise, by a wider network
of Black communities and other supporters of civil rights across the U.S. In this regard, any commodity boycott
constitutes a violent act because the organization of consumers to avoid
purchasing a good or service undermines the capacity of the producer to profit
from the sale of the commodity.
Whatever the strategic objectives of a boycott are, the tactical and
operational motive is to (violently) damage/destroy the ability of a
business to sell its goods and services and, thus, to prevent a business owner
and his/her employers from earning a living!
The same could certainly be said about the boycott of imported
Lancashire cotton textiles, called by the All-India Congress, under the moral
leadership of Mahatma Gandhi, in 1921.
The strategic intent of this action was to revive indigenous Indian
production of textiles (e.g. home spun materials), ultimately as a prelude to
the demand for Indian independence from British rule, but the operational
functioning of the boycott operated as an act of violence against British cotton
textile manufacturers and their workers, many of whom ended up unemployed as a
result of the boycott.
Gandhi’s
“non-violent” non-cooperation (Satyagraha) inspired Dr. King’s
leadership of the Montgomery boycott, but, in both circumstances, I contest the
notion this is actually “non-violence.”
They are intentional, planned, collectively executed
offensive/transformative violent acts conducted with economic weapons rather
than with firearms or bombs. There
are, obviously, many other economic weapons available to organizations seeking
to undertake transformative violence.
The sanctions the U.S. and the E.U. have issued against Iran to
force it to renounce nuclear development involve the violent use of an economic
weapon – violence that might be evident to Iranian civilians trying to obtain
particular scarce imported consumption necessities under circumstances in which
the country maintains a diminished capacity to earn foreign currency for their
purchase through trade. The imposition
of taxes may also be a kind of economic violence. Thus, U.S. Chief Justice John Marshall
recognized that “the power to tax involves the power to destroy” (McCulloch
v. Maryland, 17 U.S. 316 (1819)).
Cigarette taxes, beyond the immediate goals of raising revenue and,
hopefully, dissuading nicotine addicts from buying another carton, are,
ultimately, oriented toward the goal of destroying an entire industrial supply
chain, from tobacco cultivation, through processing and marketing of a
legally-sanctioned good. The legal or
effective establishment of a monopoly might, likewise, be seen as an
economic weapon in transformative violence.
The British Parliament’s Tea Act of 1773, which established a legal
exemption from export duties for tea sold by the British East India Company in
North America, involves just such an act of offensive violence, intended to
undercut North American merchants and shippers not exempted from paying taxes
on tea to establish a monopoly. This
action provoked the very defensive/reactive violence that has so
captivated the contemporary American political right, the Boston Tea Party, and
set in train a number of events culminating in the overthrow of British rule in
the North American colonies.
Organized
labor has always recognized the power of its own range of economic weapons in
transformative violence. Individual strikes
as acts of violence against the property of an employer (i.e. depriving him/her
of the immediate ability to produce goods or services with existing supplies of
labor) regardless of whether there happens to be any defensive/reactive
violence against strikers (e.g. bringing in scab workers; arresting strike
leaders) and regardless of whether strikers physically damage the
property of the employer – the UAW sit-down strikers at the General Motors
Fisher Body Plant #1 in Flint, Michigan in 1936-37 actually performed
necessary maintenance on the machines that they had forcibly idled
while they occupied the facility. On a
more broad level, the idea of general strike has played very heavily on the
minds of European leftists for over century.
The French theorist Georges Sorel made the idea of the general strike,
embracing all sectors of an economy, the centerpiece of his larger theory of
the formative value of transformative violence, arguing that the symbolic value
of the general strike (or its mythological appeal) resided in its
ability to shake the “working classes” out the embrace of the morally
decadent spectacle of bourgeois consumerism – that taking the power at
their disposal into their hands to bring the economy to its knees would revive
the faith of workers in their own capacity to re-craft society in their
image.
Violence is basic and fundamental to the human condition
– the alternative is the permanent stasis of humanity as a species against a
changing environment, implying certain eventual extinction. Our lives, as individuals and collectively
as individual societies and as a species, are continuously changing by our
hands. Every change in the life of an
individual or of the society around him/her brought about by human hands is, by
definition, an act of violence (good or bad).
If, in this sense, the violent acts that I’ve evaluated here are big,
broadly experienced events, violence on a small scale between individuals is
still violence, and all violence is subject to the dual rationalities
of subjectively-defined moral consequences and instrumental
efficiency. I have already
considered, in a previous entry, the instrumentality of firearms. There are appropriate contexts to use firearms
to commit violent acts and there are places where firearms are just not
efficient for the acts we are trying to commit. The same thing can be said for killing technologies in general. If, for example, we desire “regime change”
in, say, Iran, are there more efficient ways to achieve this than utilizing the
tools of war? What about using economic
weapons like sanctions to cripple the Ayatollahs? What about other kinds of economic weapons that confer benefits
on the country, rather than exacting costs, in order to transform their
behavior and make the regime act in ways that conform to our interests? What weapons are most likely to get the job
that we want done accomplished?
Then there is the separate question of moral
consequences, which is not really a separate question – the perception
of moral implications always shapes our conception of what is necessary and/or
sufficient to achieve the changes that we are trying to effect. We are always simultaneously asking whether
the ends justify the means while we evaluate what means are best suited to
getting the job done. Context, again,
is everything and there are no absolutes, enforceable under every possible
context. Most importantly, every set of
moral evaluations on violent acts is subjectively formed from the
limited perspectives of the perpetrators, the beneficiaries, the victims, and
the relatively impartial observers.
With
all this in mind, as someone who is committed to changing the world in
particular ways, where do guns fit in when the ends supported by transformative
violent acts happen to be ends that I agree with? For example, can I categorically rule out the tactics employed by
groups like the Weathermen/Weather Underground as morally inconsistent with the
sort of transformative vision that I have in mind? Maybe the bombings and other tactics employed by these radicals
were simply instrumentally unsuited/inefficient given the possibilities for
radical change available in the 1970s (a vision of revolutionary change too
Blanquist – configured on small conspiratorial groups – to conform to my own
preferences for democracy). Under other
circumstances, the situation might be different. Guns and other killing technologies are always only
instruments that can be put to use by human beings to commit (good and bad)
violent acts. Satyagraha is also a
tool, however, and, under some circumstances, a useful and efficient tool for
violent change – it did, after all, help in securing the independence of the
world’s second largest country from imperial rule and its American variation
helped to secure civil rights for African-Americans in the U.S. South (and, finally, given the numbers of
people it requires to work, it can be very democratic)! Ultimately, I cannot answer the question of
where guns fit in a portrait of revolutionary/transformative violence because I
cannot identify all of the possible contexts in which guns might be efficient
to the ends I am seeking. That said,
could it ever really make sense to take guns completely off the table as
a means to achieve change?
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