Category Archives: Revolutionary Education

Learning from the History of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee

Below is a recent letter by the International School for Bottom Up Organizing about the organizing of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (the student movement that led the 1960s Civil Rights movement on college and other campuses across the nation) and what current students can learn from that history. In the future I will write a post on the SNCC aesthetic and why design and tone is important for movement building. Enjoy.

This is a letter to the young radicals who are trying to find direction for rebuilding a movement in the US to create a just and equal world, and who respect, admire and want to learn from the experience of the 1960s radicals in SNCC who set out to eradicate racism and change the world. We encourage you to attend the SNCC 50th anniversary commemorative meeting in North Carolina this April.

Right now, as you read this letter, there is a determined campaign to distort the true story of what SNCC did and stood for and how it changed history. You need to know this so you are not misled. You need to know this because the true story of SNCC contains lessons for present-day organizing we cannot do without.

Early SNCC organizers in places like Mississippi, Alabama, Louisiana and Arkansas were guided by elders in the community who had been struggling against racism in the previous decades. This tradition of bottom-up struggle against racism had unbroken roots going back to the days of slavery and slave rebellions, the Underground Railroad and maroon communities of escaped slaves. It moved through the amazing experiences of free, collective living led by former slaves during the Reconstruction after the Civil War. It remained alive in ongoing resistance to Jim Crow and various
strategies for self-sustenance that kept black folk strong, united and proud against all the vicious physical and psychic oppression surrounding them.

Julian Bond and members of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, Atlanta, Georgia, March 23, 1963 Photograph Richard Avedo

The early SNCC organizers had and promoted a deep respect for the genius of the people themselves, though they might seem powerless, though they might not be able to read and write. This respect and confidence was borne out in the massive struggles of the early 60s for
the right to vote, in which thousands of those same ”powerless,” “illiterate” black sharecroppers overturned Jim Crow.

Unlike most other civil rights groups and so-called leaders, SNCC took a bottom-up approach to organizing. It was guided by the leadership of women such as Ella Baker, Septima Clark, Ruby Doris, Fannie Lou Hamer, Annie Devine, Victoria Gray, Annelle Ponder, Aylene Quinn, and many others throughout the black-belt South (many who these writers can’t name because our experience was in Mississippi). These profound women taught a humble, relationship-building, persistent organizing method. SNCC was about knocking on doors, talking for hours with individuals, conducting classes
on reading, writing and politics. SNCC staff members met in interminable meetings, often all night, to achieve the consensus necessary to move forward. White volunteers to SNCC dedicated themselves to serving the poor black folk they lived among and following the leadership of black local people and black SNCC field secretaries. People came to trust and rely on SNCC because every time SNCC folk were knocked down, they stood back up and kept on going. They trusted SNCC because SNCC wasn’t about some charismatic leader arriving with fanfare to give an inspirational speech and leaving just as fast. It was about young people who lived with them, ate with them, slept with them, faced the Klan alongside them and devoted their lives to them. It was about young people who refused to buckle under either to lynching or to various tactics to buy them off or turn them aside.

In the middle 60s, the organizing of the South surged into the North in the form of the Black Power movement. Rebellions erupted in the major cities. The Black Panther party and other organizations germinated and grew. The student movement against the Vietnam War was
initiated in large part by white youth who had volunteered with SNCC in the South. SDS adopted the organizing methods of SNCC and worked tirelessly for years knocking on doors in dormitories, staying up long hours talking and meeting, and finally bursting into actions that galvanized the whole country and helped end that war. Soldiers who came out of the black struggles mounted mutinies inside Vietnam itself until the US military was crippled in its ability to conduct the war. The power elite and its government feared outright revolution and began extraordinary measures to derail the movement.

The patient, persistent, humble and bottom-up organizing method of early SNCC was the genesis of much of this mass eruption. SNCC effected international struggles, both directly – by being invited to meetings and planning sessions in Africa, the Middle East and elsewhere – and indirectly by the spread of the mass movements generated out of the Southern black struggle.

As youth who despair at the state of the country and the world today, and are seeking ways to build a new
movement, you well know that the struggle SNCC helped start is far from over. You know that electing a black president has not eradicated racism, police terror, the cradle-to-prison pipeline, unemployment or war. It has not made men and women equal collaborators; it has not saved the world from ecological destruction.

Only the people themselves have the power to save themselves and the earth. As the early SNCC mentors taught, the role of the organizer is to organize the people to lead themselves. It is not flashy work; it is a persistent daily grind based on humility, love and belief in the genius of the people.

This is the work the International School for Bottom-up Organizing is teaching, and the kind of organizing ISBO is doing in the Americas: a direct descendant of SNCC.

However, SNCC field workers moved in many different directions after the 60s; not all of them continued organizing. The US government made a concerted and successful campaign to destroy the militancy and organizations of the 60s. COINTELPRO, which was a counter-intelligence program of the government, targeted, murdered and forced into exile many of the most revolutionary black leaders. Meanwhile, the temptations of political influence seduced others into going to work for the very government that they had previously struggled against, opting for trying to change the world from the top down rather than the bottom up. Still others simply went back to living life, pursuing careers, and tried in their own ways to continue to fight racism and oppression within whatever sphere they were in. The government also bought off or infiltrated and led astray most white-led radical/revolutionary organizations coming out of the SNCC experience and the 60s.

A number of SNCC staff members became successful politicians, worked within government policy institutes, worked for the State Department in ambassadorial positions, became heads of institutions or highly respected professionals within the status quo. It is this group that has the most influence on the current interpretations of what SNCC was.

Of course, the system’s normal methods of rewriting history also exist. Many books have been written that manage to hide the true essence of SNCC. Hollywood has produced movies in which the FBI appears to be the heroes of the civil rights movement. Even now, Spike Lee is producing a major film focusing on the first white SNCC field secretary. Where are the books and movies about the sharecroppers who risked and lost their lives in the struggle? Where are the movies about the daily door-knocking, the sleeping on floors, the freedom houses where young, mainly black organizers struggled with overcoming racism and sexism and experimented in creating free and equal relationships, the living on $10 a week, the non-dramatic, persistent, hard, dirty work it took and takes to really organize a movement?

But we can expect the government and the racist system to distort history in their own interest, to bury the knowledge necessary to continue the struggle. What is particularly galling is that many former SNCC members, who have made their peace with the US government (particularly its current leadership), are distorting that history, too.

The upcoming 50th anniversary celebration of SNCC, planned for this April, is an example. Many of the keynote speakers are present or former government
officials. The committee to organize and plan the event is self-selected and top down: a complete reversal of
SNCC principles. Far from a humble opportunity for serving and lifting up the genius of the most oppressed, this conference treats SNCC as dead history, a subject of academic interest and nostalgia. Where are the workshops on current organizing? Where is the training of organizers? Where is the laying bare the current oppression of black America, which in many ways is deeper, more violent and more intense than it was when SNCC was working in the South?

Without these – without the SNCC spirit of bottom up and black leadership – this conference will be a travesty, a distortion, a lie.

We call on young people who want to walk in the shoes of SNCC to do their own investigation. Read books like Charles Payne’s I’ve Got the Light of Freedom. Interview SNCC field workers who are still organizing the people on the bottom, still carrying on the SNCC principles. Learn about people like Ella Baker, Septima Clark, Ruby Doris and Fannie Lou Hamer. Attend organizing training through the International School for Bottom-up Organizing, led by former SNCC members who are still actively organizing. Go into the community, find the people with the darkest skin and least resources (these are one and the same worldwide!) and ask them what they would have you do. Bring them together to meet and discuss what they need, based on principles of equality.

But don’t think of SNCC and the Southern organizing as a dead tradition for a long-past world. Don’t imagine that the struggle was won while right now black men are being shot down in the street, black babies are dying from lack of medical care, schools are falling apart, young people are being sent to die to protect oil pipelines and profits in the Middle East and Afghanistan, while poor people are homeless and jobless and hungry inside the richest country in the world, while the rich and powerful pollute and destroy the earth. Don’t think that electing Obama is the beginning of a new world. Only the people themselves, led by those most oppressed and despised, the poorest and darkest, can create a free, just and equal world. If you want a new world, become an organizer who serves the people.

Thank you for reading this.

The ISBO organizing trainers’ collective

Images from the SNCC movement:

Inspiration from Subcomandante Marcos

For those of you who don’t know, Subcomandante Marcos and the Zapatistas are something of folk heros for the people of Mexico and for social justice organizers around the world. The Zapatistas rose up in armed resistance against the North American Free Trade Agreement on New Year’s Day 1994 in order to create for a world where “many worlds are possible.” Their ability to wield the contradiction as a weapon, to use words as weapons, is central to their strategy. Here, Marcos replies to a child about why the Zapatistas became “soldiers so that one day soldiers would not be needed.” Enjoy.

Professionals in Hope

[La Jornada, 3/6]

March 5, 1994

Manuel Henríquez, corespondent, La Paz, Baja California Sur.

At 1:30 a.m. on Saturday, February 26, Francisco de los Santos, auxiliary
of Bishop Samuel Ruiz, looked for Marina Valtierra at a hotel in San Cristóbal
de las Casas, Chiapas, to give her a letter that Subcommander Marcos wrote
in response to the message that Miguel A. Vázquez–13 years old–had
written and sent via his mother, Marina.

Briefly, Miguel said to Marcos:

“I think that you did what was necessary, because there was no alternative
to rising up in arms, since the government did not listen to the needs
of the Indians; it was not interested in the misery or the hunger of the
Chiapaneco population.

“Admired subcommander: Sometimes it is necessary, as in this case, to
rise up in arms to be heard and paid attention to by the corrupt government.
I would have liked for there to have been peace from the start. I send
you this letter to tell you that since the armed conflict in Chiapas began,
I have kept informed of it.”

The young man decided to extend the message of the subcommander to all
of the children of Mexico by sharing his letter with El Financiero, Proceso
and La Jornada:

To the child Miguel A. Vázquez Valtierra:

Miguel:

Your mother gave me your letter, along with the photo of you and your
dog. I’m taking advantage of the fact that your mother is returning to
your land to write you a few hurried lines which you may not yet understand.
Nevertheless, I am sure that one day, as I write to you here, you will
understand that it is possible that men and women exist like us–faceless
and nameless, who have left everything, even life itself, so that others
(children like you and those who are not like you) can wake up every morning
without words that silence and without masks to face the world. When this
day comes we, the faceless and the nameless, will be able to rest, finally,
under the ground… quite dead, certainly, but happy.

Our profession: Hope.

The day is almost dead-dark as it dresses in night and the next day
begins to be born, first with its black veil, then with gray or blue, according
to the taste of the sun, whether it will shine or not, dust and mud in
our path. The day is almost dead in the nighttime arms of the crickets,
and then this idea of writing you comes to me, to tell you something that
comes from one of those “professionals in violence,” which they have called
us so often.

It turns out that yes, we are professionals. But our profession is hope.
We decided one fine day to make ourselves soldiers so that one day soldiers
would not be needed. That is, we picked a suicidal profession because it
is a profession whose objective is to disappear: Soldiers who are soldiers
so that one day nobody will need to be a soldier. This is clear, right?
And then it turns out that these soldiers who want to stop being soldiers,
us, have something that the books and speeches call “patriotism.” Because
that which we call country is not a vague idea found only in letters and
books, but a great body of meat and bone, of pain and suffering, of sorrow,
of hope that everything will change in the end, one fine day. And the country
that we want will have to be born also from our errors and missteps. From
our dispossession and our broken bodies a new world will have to rise up.
Will we see it? Does it matter if we see it? I think that it does not matter
as much as knowing for certain that it will be born and that, in the long
and painful birth of history, we contributed something and everything:
life, body and soul. Love and pain, not only do they rhyme [in Spanish,
"amor y dolor"] but they unite and march together. Because of this we are
soldiers who want to stop being soldiers. But it turns out that in order
for soldiers to no longer be necessary, one has to become a soldier and
prescribe a discrete quantity of lead, hot lead writing freedom and justice
for all, not for one or for a few, but for all, everyone, the dead of before
and of tomorrow, the living of today and always, all of those who we call
people and country, those without anything, the losers of always before
tomorrow, the nameless, the faceless.

To be a soldier who wants there to be no need for soldiers is very simple.
It is enough to respond firmly to a small piece of hope that everyone else
deposits in each one of us, those who have nothing, those who will have
everything. For them and for those who have kept to the path, for one unjust
reason or another. For those who try to really change and become better
every day, every evening, every night of rain and crickets. To accumulate
hate and love with patience. To cultivate the fierce tree of hate for the
oppressor with the love that struggles and liberates. To cultivate the
powerful tree of love that is wind that cleans and cures; not the small
and egotistical love–the large one, the one that improves and makes one
grow. To cultivate among us the tree of the hate and of love, the tree
of duty. In this cultivation to put one’s whole life, body and soul, breath
and hope. To grow, then, crow and grow step by step, pace by pace. And
in that climbing and falling of red stars, to not fear, to not fear until
surrendering, sitting down in a chair to rest while others continue, to
catch our breath while others struggle, to sleep while others stay up.

Abandon, if you have it, the love of death and the fascination with
martyrs. Revolutionaries love life without fearing death, and seek a life
that is dignified for all, and if for that they need to pay with their
death, they will do it without drama or hesitation.

Receive my best hug and this tender pain that will always be hope.

Health, Miguel.

From the mountains of the Mexican Southeast,

Insurgent Subcommander Marcos

P.S. Here we live worse than dogs. We had to choose: to live like animals
or die like dignified people. Dignity, Miguel, is the only thing that one
should never lose…never.