The Forgotten Populist
Looks like i'm moving to san francisco. While I was looking forward to supporting Donna Frye through the new SD november mayoral election, the politics of san francisco have always been intriguing in both a volatile and inviting way. Just a few weeks ago I fell witness to a political comedy event in san francisco, where i watched the former mayor of sf drink wine and call a spectator "bitch" during a "round table" discussion following the event. Hardly the McLaughlin group, but the political situation became clear and stimulating; and boy oh boy, Harvey Milk left quite a legacy.
I recently re-viewed the documentary Times Of Harvey Milk and was reminded of a brief, yet deep, adolescent obsession i had with the story itself. Not merely due to Milk's embodiment of all things populist and the emanating positivism which spilled from his earnest speeches, but because of the state of california's blatant malicious use of the court system to enhance prejudice and condone murder.
essay copyright 1993, Gregory J. Rosmaita
excerpts:
. . .Despite the clarity of his populist vision, his piercing assessment of the socio-economic crisis confronting contemporary America, and his eloquent defense of personal liberties, Harvey Milk has been forgotten by the majority of Americans. His is not a household name, invoking only blank stares or the faintest glimmer of recognition. It is tragically ironic that the notorious "twinkie defense" of his assassin is better remembered by Americans than the mercurial Milk himself. Those who do remember Milk remember him only as a "minor" footnote in American history--the first openly homosexual man to be popularly elevated into elective office in the United States. To remember Milk solely for his sexual orientation, however, is not only to misunderstand him, but his concept of gay pride as well. Harvey Milk was one of the most charismatic and pragmatic populists of the past half-century, a man of remarkable organizational talent who never compromised his vision of "a city of neighborhoods" nor sought to hide his homosexuality.
. . .Harvey Milk was not a professional politician--he was the quintessential populist maverick. He owed no allegiance to any party or platform, leaving him free to follow the dictates of common sense, not dogma. This independence freed him from the compromising intrigues of inter-party politics, as well, allowing him to be ruled by his conscience rather than the accumulated debt traditional politicians owe special interest groups. Milk's populism stemmed from an absolute faith in the Jeffersonian principles of American democracy as outlined in the Declaration of Independence and in the inviolable sanctity of the Constitution.
. . .The sole safeguard of individual rights, Milk fervently believed, is individual participation in the political process. As an open homosexual, Milk knew all to well that whoever holds the reigns of power, dictates the limits of individual liberty. Milk perceived political parties--which he invariably referred to as "machines"--as the most pernicious threat to democracy. "Machines operate on oil and grease; they're dirty, dehumanizing, and too often unresponsive to any needs but those of the operator."
. . .By reprioritizing government spending, Milk believed, the neighborhoods could begin the process of rebuilding the city from within, by utilizing the resources which the machine had squandered. Simply by mandating that all city employees must be residents of the city, the neighborhoods would have taken a giant step forward, Milk argued. From a fiscal standpoint, it made no sense to do otherwise, since city employees are paid with the tax revenues the city has raised from its residents. If the employee lives in the city, the money he is paid does not leave the city, but is recycled within the neighborhoods. Furthermore, exclusively employing residents of the city would ensure each distinct neighborhood that its policemen, firemen, ambulance drivers, etc., spoke the same language as it did, shared its values, understood the subtle nuances of its culture, and respected its way of life.
The city could not afford to do otherwise, Milk warned:
Unfortunately for those who would like to flee them, the problems of the cities don't stop at the city limits. There are no moats around our cities that keep the problems in. What happens in New York or San Francisco will eventually happen in San Jose. It's just a matter of time. And like the flu, it usually gets worse the further it travels. Our cities must not be abandoned. They're worth fighting for, not just by those who live in them, but by industry, commerce, unions, everyone. Not alone because they represent the past, but because they also represent the future. Your children will live there and hopefully, so will your grand-children.
"...You can't run a city by people who don't live there," Milk warned America, "any more than you can have an effective police force made up of people who don't live there. In either case, what you've got is an occupying army."
. . .Harvey Milk lent the power of his eloquent voice not only to the voiceless invisible minority, but to all minorities, whose voices are often lost in the gale winds of conformity that sweep the American cultural landscape. Milk often said that all he ever sought was "to open up a dialogue that involves all of us." Tragically, his assassin's bullet not only quelled his voice, but his populist vision as well. The machines ground on and the apocalyptic cycle of inner city despair against which he battled has repeated itself in Homedale and South Central Los Angeles.
. . .Industry and business has made our country the greatest military and economic power in the world. Now I think it's time to look at our future with a realistic eye. I don't think the American Dream necessarily includes two cars in every garage and a disposal in every kitchen. What it does need is an educational system with incentives. To spend twelve years at school--almost a fifth of your life without a job at the other end is meaningless. Every ghetto child has the right to ask: Education for what?
Until his voice is ressussitated, his piercing question will remain unanswered.
I recently told the end of the story incorrectly to a friend, and looked it up to be sure. Here's the outcome of Milk's assassin and what happens when homophobia overrules justice:
(text paraphrased from deep within ask.yahoo.com)
On November 27, 1978, in San Francisco, Dan White, who had recently resigned from his city supervisor position, climbed through a basement window in City Hall and walked upstairs to Mayor George Moscone's office. He demanded his job back, and when Moscone refused, White fatally wounded the mayor with four gunshots. White quickly reloaded, walked down the hall to the office of Harvey Milk, the first openly gay person to hold public office, and killed him with five gunshots.
In White's trial, his defense attorneys stated that he was suffering from "diminished capacity," a defense that was permissible in California at that time. White's lawyers argued that he suffered from depression and was therefore incapable of any premeditation. Psychiatrist Martin Blinder testified that White was addicted to junk food and that too much sugar could have had an effect on the brain and worsened White's depression. Blinder offered the junk food addiction as evidence of the depression, rather than a cause for the crime. This distinction failed to make it into the media accounts of the trial, however.
The defense worked. The jury found White guilty of the lesser charge of voluntary manslaughter and sentenced him to six years. Many residents of San Francisco were outraged and riots broke out in the city.
In 1982, California voters approved a proposition to abolish the "diminished capacity" defense.
Dan White served his time, was paroled in 1985, and took his own life later that year.
I recently re-viewed the documentary Times Of Harvey Milk and was reminded of a brief, yet deep, adolescent obsession i had with the story itself. Not merely due to Milk's embodiment of all things populist and the emanating positivism which spilled from his earnest speeches, but because of the state of california's blatant malicious use of the court system to enhance prejudice and condone murder.
essay copyright 1993, Gregory J. Rosmaita
excerpts:
. . .Despite the clarity of his populist vision, his piercing assessment of the socio-economic crisis confronting contemporary America, and his eloquent defense of personal liberties, Harvey Milk has been forgotten by the majority of Americans. His is not a household name, invoking only blank stares or the faintest glimmer of recognition. It is tragically ironic that the notorious "twinkie defense" of his assassin is better remembered by Americans than the mercurial Milk himself. Those who do remember Milk remember him only as a "minor" footnote in American history--the first openly homosexual man to be popularly elevated into elective office in the United States. To remember Milk solely for his sexual orientation, however, is not only to misunderstand him, but his concept of gay pride as well. Harvey Milk was one of the most charismatic and pragmatic populists of the past half-century, a man of remarkable organizational talent who never compromised his vision of "a city of neighborhoods" nor sought to hide his homosexuality.
. . .Harvey Milk was not a professional politician--he was the quintessential populist maverick. He owed no allegiance to any party or platform, leaving him free to follow the dictates of common sense, not dogma. This independence freed him from the compromising intrigues of inter-party politics, as well, allowing him to be ruled by his conscience rather than the accumulated debt traditional politicians owe special interest groups. Milk's populism stemmed from an absolute faith in the Jeffersonian principles of American democracy as outlined in the Declaration of Independence and in the inviolable sanctity of the Constitution.
. . .The sole safeguard of individual rights, Milk fervently believed, is individual participation in the political process. As an open homosexual, Milk knew all to well that whoever holds the reigns of power, dictates the limits of individual liberty. Milk perceived political parties--which he invariably referred to as "machines"--as the most pernicious threat to democracy. "Machines operate on oil and grease; they're dirty, dehumanizing, and too often unresponsive to any needs but those of the operator."
. . .By reprioritizing government spending, Milk believed, the neighborhoods could begin the process of rebuilding the city from within, by utilizing the resources which the machine had squandered. Simply by mandating that all city employees must be residents of the city, the neighborhoods would have taken a giant step forward, Milk argued. From a fiscal standpoint, it made no sense to do otherwise, since city employees are paid with the tax revenues the city has raised from its residents. If the employee lives in the city, the money he is paid does not leave the city, but is recycled within the neighborhoods. Furthermore, exclusively employing residents of the city would ensure each distinct neighborhood that its policemen, firemen, ambulance drivers, etc., spoke the same language as it did, shared its values, understood the subtle nuances of its culture, and respected its way of life.
The city could not afford to do otherwise, Milk warned:
Unfortunately for those who would like to flee them, the problems of the cities don't stop at the city limits. There are no moats around our cities that keep the problems in. What happens in New York or San Francisco will eventually happen in San Jose. It's just a matter of time. And like the flu, it usually gets worse the further it travels. Our cities must not be abandoned. They're worth fighting for, not just by those who live in them, but by industry, commerce, unions, everyone. Not alone because they represent the past, but because they also represent the future. Your children will live there and hopefully, so will your grand-children.
"...You can't run a city by people who don't live there," Milk warned America, "any more than you can have an effective police force made up of people who don't live there. In either case, what you've got is an occupying army."
. . .Harvey Milk lent the power of his eloquent voice not only to the voiceless invisible minority, but to all minorities, whose voices are often lost in the gale winds of conformity that sweep the American cultural landscape. Milk often said that all he ever sought was "to open up a dialogue that involves all of us." Tragically, his assassin's bullet not only quelled his voice, but his populist vision as well. The machines ground on and the apocalyptic cycle of inner city despair against which he battled has repeated itself in Homedale and South Central Los Angeles.
. . .Industry and business has made our country the greatest military and economic power in the world. Now I think it's time to look at our future with a realistic eye. I don't think the American Dream necessarily includes two cars in every garage and a disposal in every kitchen. What it does need is an educational system with incentives. To spend twelve years at school--almost a fifth of your life without a job at the other end is meaningless. Every ghetto child has the right to ask: Education for what?
Until his voice is ressussitated, his piercing question will remain unanswered.
- The Twinkie Defense
what utter bullshit
I recently told the end of the story incorrectly to a friend, and looked it up to be sure. Here's the outcome of Milk's assassin and what happens when homophobia overrules justice:
(text paraphrased from deep within ask.yahoo.com)
On November 27, 1978, in San Francisco, Dan White, who had recently resigned from his city supervisor position, climbed through a basement window in City Hall and walked upstairs to Mayor George Moscone's office. He demanded his job back, and when Moscone refused, White fatally wounded the mayor with four gunshots. White quickly reloaded, walked down the hall to the office of Harvey Milk, the first openly gay person to hold public office, and killed him with five gunshots.
In White's trial, his defense attorneys stated that he was suffering from "diminished capacity," a defense that was permissible in California at that time. White's lawyers argued that he suffered from depression and was therefore incapable of any premeditation. Psychiatrist Martin Blinder testified that White was addicted to junk food and that too much sugar could have had an effect on the brain and worsened White's depression. Blinder offered the junk food addiction as evidence of the depression, rather than a cause for the crime. This distinction failed to make it into the media accounts of the trial, however.
The defense worked. The jury found White guilty of the lesser charge of voluntary manslaughter and sentenced him to six years. Many residents of San Francisco were outraged and riots broke out in the city.
In 1982, California voters approved a proposition to abolish the "diminished capacity" defense.
Dan White served his time, was paroled in 1985, and took his own life later that year.
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