Almost
40 years ago, a united black community in Memphis stepped forward to
support 1,300 municipal sanitation workers as they demanded higher
wages, union recognition, and respect for black personhood embodied in
the slogan “I Am a Man!” Memphis’s black women organized tenant and
welfare unions, discovering pervasive hunger among the city’s poor and
black children. They demanded rights to food and medical care from a
city and medical establishment blind to their existence. That same
month, March 1968, 100 grassroots organizations met in Atlanta to
support Martin Luther King’s dream of a poor people’s march on
Washington. They pressed concrete demands for economic justice under
the slogan “Jobs or Income Now!” King celebrated the “determination by
poor people of all colors” to win their human rights. “Established
powers of rich America have deliberately exploited poor people by
isolating them in ethnic, nationality, religious and racial groups,”
the delegates declared.
So
when King came to Memphis to support the strike, a local labor and
community struggle became intertwined with his dream of mobilizing a
national coalition strong enough to reorient national priorities from
imperial war in Vietnam to domestic reconstruction, especially in
America’s riot-torn cities. To non-poor Americans, King called for a
“revolution of values,” a move from self-seeking to service, from
property rights to human rights.
King’s assassination—and the
urban revolts that followed—led to a local Memphis settlement that
furthered the cause of public employee unionism. The Poor People’s
March nonviolently won small concessions in the national food stamp
program. But reporters covered the bickering and squalor in the poor
people’s tent city, rather than the movement’s detailed demands for
waging a real war on poverty. Marchers wanted guaranteed public
employment when the private sector failed, a raise in the federal
minimum wage, a national income floor for all families, and a national
commitment to reconstruct cities blighted by corporate disinvestment and
white flight. And they wanted poor people’s representation in urban
renewal and social service programs that had customarily benefited only
businesses or the middle class. King’s dreams reverberated back in the
movements that had risen him up.
It is widely believed that King’s
deep dedication to workers’ rights and international human rights came
late in life, when cities burned, Vietnamese villagers fled American
napalm, and King faced stone-throwing Nazis in Chicago’s white
working-class inner suburbs. But King began his public ministry in
Montgomery in 1956, dreaming of “a world in which men will no longer
take necessities from the masses to give luxuries to the classes.” He
demanded that imperial nations give up their power and privileges over
oppressed and colonized peoples struggling against “segregation,
political domination, and economic exploitation”—whether they were in
South Africa or South Alabama.
King’s commitments to economic
justice and workers’ rights are becoming more widely appreciated today
as we continue to confront all of the unresolved challenges King
confronted in his day.
Around 1964, King announced that the
movement had moved “beyond civil rights.” Constitutional rights to free
assembly, equality in voting, and access to public accommodations had
marched forward with little cost to the nation, he said. Human rights—to
dignified work, decent wages, income support, and decent housing for
all Americans—would cost the nation billions of dollars. In other
speeches, however, King recognized that human rights and civil rights
were bound up with each other, part of a “Worldwide Human Rights
Revolution.” The practical experience of building a movement had already
made these connections. In Montgomery’s struggle to desegregate bus
seating, for example, King heralded the American “right to protest for
right,” but discovered that it was inseparable from the human rights to
work and eat. Why? Hundreds of African Americans were fired or evicted
or denied public aid for expressing themselves politically, and King
was intimately involved in campaigns for their material relief. This
pattern continued throughout the 1960s. The southern struggle for
rights became a struggle against poverty long before Lyndon Johnson’s
wars in Vietnam and on poverty.
Similarly, in New York City in
1959, King joined A. Philip Randolph and Malcolm X in supporting the
white, black and Puerto Rican hospital workers of NewYork’s newly
organized Local 1199. Over 3,000 hospital workers—laundry workers,
cafeteria workers, janitors and orderlies—struck seven New York private
hospitals. At the bottom of the new service economy they were legally
barred from collective bargaining; excluded from minimum wage
protections and unemployment compensation; and denied the medical
insurance that might give them access to the hospitals where they
worked. Harlem’s black community rallied to their defense. King cheered a
struggle that transcended “a fight for union rights” and had become a
multiracial “fight for human rights.”
King’s commitments to
economic justice and workers’ rights are becoming more widely
appreciated today as we continue to confront all of the unresolved
challenges King confronted in his day. Joblessness is still pervasive
under the official unemployment statistics, and wages remain too low
to lift millions of people out of poverty. Conservative politicians and
globalizing corporations have relentlessly chipped away at union
rights and workplace safety. Tattered safety nets have become even
shoddier for poor people who are not capable of earning. Forty-seven
million Americans are, medically, second-class citizens. Unequal
landscapes of wealth and opportunity in housing and schools still make
the words “American apartheid” a dirty but accurate epithet. And again,
in a different part of the world, our military wages a war of empire
cloaked in robes of democratic idealism. On the right, complacent
religious leaders preach family morality and personal responsibility,
while neglecting our collective moral commitments to materially
supporting “the least of these.” But across the country too, citizens
are uncovering stones of hope and finding new democratic determination.
We have come a long way, but we have a long way to go, as King would
say. Lost ground and shattered dreams are bearable, he would have
preached, as we continue the struggles for multiracial democracy,
economic justice, and human dignity that were begun long ago, under
even more challenging circumstances than we face today.
Thomas
F. Jackson is Associate Professor of History at the University of North
Carolina Greensboro, and author of the prizewinning From Civil Rights to Human Rights: Martin Luther King Jr. and the Struggle for Economic Justice (University of Pennsylvania Press, 2007). For more about this important book, we recommend Maurice Isserman's review in the Summer 2007 Dissent.
This essay originally appeared on the website of Interfaith Worker Justice.
Posted from Talking Union.
Posted from Talking Union.
"Remaking America: From Poverty to Prosperity", was held at George Washington University's Lisner Auditorium,.
2 hours, 37 minutes | 4,145 Views
Speakers include Cornel West, Barbara Ehrenreich, Michael Moore, and more.
I tried to post this on Sat. but was unable to post.
On CSPAN. The video stream should still be available. Tavis Smiley said it would be played on PBS this week.
No comments:
Post a Comment