Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Jonathan Schell on Reagan and nuclear (non)proliferation

Jonathan Schell's piece in the last issue of The Nation discussing Reagan's legacy of non-proliferation is provocative. His account of Reagan as a committed nuclear abolitionist and the very small opening there was for this idea at a certain moment at the zenith of the Cold War disturbs most understandings of him on the right and the left and gives a good deal of rhetorical force behind the argument that Schell has been making for many decades. As he confesses in an early aside, "It is a perverse pleasure to be able to quote Schwarzenegger, Shultz, Kissinger, Perry, Nunn and Reagan approvingly in a single article in The Nation, which normally does not keep company of this kind." It is not just a random exercise in reinforcing his own position to show that Reagan was committed to something with such a widespread public approval, but which rarely gets a hearing in major policy circles. After pointing out the divergent positions between major Democratic candidates for president, he notes that none of the Republicans have any debate on the issue,

So far, Reagan's legacy has found no takers among the Republican candidates, even as they claim with every other breath to be his heirs. The debate question for them would be whether their admiration for their hero extends to his vision of nuclear abolition, and if not, why not?

I found the account very informative, though I'm sure the nuclear hawks who prop up Reagan's image in front of anything they do would, if they found Schell a worthy critic, present their own more equivocal account of the events. On the other hand, I find Schell's continued interest in this issue to be important. Having grown up with nuclear arms as a sort of common sense background to late twentieth century life, discussion about non-proliferation seems like a relic of a time when they made cars with tail fins. It's not for nothing that Kubric shot Dr. Strangelove, made in 1964, in black and white: though we might not all love the bomb, we've certainly learned to stop worrying.

Schell and others help remind us that the current foreign policy crises in Iraq, Iran, and elsewhere are not the just random, unconnected headlines, but the historical consequences of a certain decision made by US policy makers to abandon non-proliferation--and a policy that many of the current candidates for US president are likely to repeat. In speaking about Hillary's position, he comments that, "It's hard to imagine a stance more likely to accelerate nuclear proliferation." He goes on to ask, "Wouldn't this matter be as worthy of a few questions in the debates as, say, driver's licenses for undocumented immigrants or Obama's readiness to get verbally tough with Clinton?" The answer of course, is yes, but unfortunately the issue of non-proliferation seems like such a relic. In some ways it's quite remarkable that the current cultural climate is able to make xenophobic claims about being overrun by immigrants seem like a unique, modern narrative while talking about reducing nuclear arms seems like yesterday's news. It isn't, of course, but for some reason the popular discourse in the US makes it seem that way.

For me, it is a reminder of an earlier moment in the US and British Left, a time when one of the biggest issues to unite the left was not labor rights or the war in Vietnam, but the increased production of Nuclear Arms. As Dennis Dworkin discusses in his book on Cultural Marxism in Postwar Britain, one of the early issues that inspired the New Left "Originating as a force opposed to the spread of nuclear weapons, it came to symbolize a wider discontent with the institutions of modern society. It was the only genuine mass political movement between the Popular Front in the 1930s and the student revolt of the late 1960s." (64) But even the latter was, in part, an outgrowth of the earlier unity in the CND. Specifically, the different factions that eventually became identified with Stuart Hall and E. P. Thompson and the journals that they worked on (The Universities and Left Review [ULR] and The Reasoner respectively, which were eventually merged to form The New Left Review) were initially united over the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament. The ULR, Dworkin contends, "saw themselves as possible mediators between the CND and the mainstream labor movement" while

Even before the founding of the nuclear disarmament movement, Thompson was writing in the New Reasoner about the relationship between nuclear disarmament and socialist strategy: "The bomb must be dismantled; but in dismantling it, men will summon up energies which will open the way to their inheritance. The bomb is like an image of man's whole predicament: it bears within it death and life, total destruction or human mastery over human history."

The issue, in other words, that eventually brought forth the energy of the left that created what became known as Cultural Studies, was the proliferation of Nuclear Arms. Now the latter seem largely to be a hegemonic commonplace and the question is less about whether they should exist than who should possess them. The shift mirrors the shift in the conversation of Cultural Studies more generally. The original concern was with what defined the culture of capitalist democracies and what mechanisms were used to reproduce this culture by the ruling classes of nation states that adopted this as the dominant mode of production. Now this is basically accepted as "the" mode of production; it forms the background of conversations about identity politics which no longer question the dominant organization of commercial media and instead look at the issue of who gets represented and how. This shift is being reversed--or, more accurately, the dialectic of the relevance of the earlier concern with present ones is being realized--but for a time, the acceptance of the status quo was seen as a precondition for critiquing the surface manifestations of more fundamental inequalities.

Whether the issue of Nuclear Proliferation should become some sort of guiding question in Cultural Studies is likely connected to the question of whether one of our major concerns should shift to issues of war--particularly the US war in Iraq (especially for US CS thinkers). Paul Smith said as much at the Canadian Association of Cultural Studies conference and there is certainly some shift in this direction. Since, for the time being, my work on IPR is dealing with what could be seen as an incidental concern in this kind of global environment I'll defer any grand pronouncement on the issue. But I will note that the current strategy used to counter proliferation faces roughly the same problem which faces interests who hope to create a common worldwide legal regime for intellectual property rights. Namely, that they face a world in which they have done everything they can to tear down states which might protect the interests of their citizens over the interests of the international regime. In doing so they have effectively weakened--both in terms of the institutions of government and their popular legitimacy--the very instruments that might be needed to enforce such a regime. The flipside of this argument could be that the state was never so strong except in the metropolitan center, and either way the attempt to stem what is basically a sort of mercurial flow of knowledge and ideas is a Herculean task even the strongest Leviathan would be hard pressed to execute. Still, it ironically points to the continued need for executive instruments even in seemingly the most immaterial of issues.

Friday, December 07, 2007

Peter Vlach

So it has taken me a few weeks to get it together, but I've finally been able to scan in the photos I had of Peter. I also have something I've written, but I had to do it freehand and will have to transcribe it when I have more time. It was really upsetting to hear the news about him and it took me quite some time to really get my head around why. I don't know that I have, but at least I'm not thinking about it all the time anymore.



Here is Peter the way many people seem to remember him. As best I can recall I took this picture in the Summer of 1995, after I had just bought my first SLR camera. Peter had already gone to school but had come back to Lewisville to visit. I was hanging out a lot with John, Syd, and Chris who all lived together in some apartments off of Main St. One night peter took John, Joel and I cruising in his awesome red car. I feel like it was earlier that year that John and Peter introduced me to the music of Tom Waits and we had all been listening to him pretty much non-stop for several months. Something about that car just screamed Tom Waits (or maybe Tom Jones and Tom Waits) and he might have gone for a ride with us had he been around that night. I don't think he would have joined John and Peter at the destination, however.

Here's the photo as it appeared in my photo album. I thought it was a good snapshot of a moment. The top is taken of John at his place. I don't know the provenance of the T-shirt, but I know that Peter eventually ended up with it for at least a time as he's wearing it in the photo his brother has of him on his website. The middle, is, of course, Peter and the bottom is Andy from our road trip from TX to OR later that summer. Andy was also hanging out at John and Syd's quite a bit that summer, as was Joel. Speaking of...


I don't know why there's a picture of Cliff on this page, but the other two are of John and Joel in the backseat of Peter's car on the way that night to the railroad trestle. I don't know what inspired the trip, but I know that Pete and John ended up jumping off the top and I got these two shots.

I know that by the end of that summer a lot had changed for everyone. And after I went to school, I lost touch with Peter and John and Syd moved into a new place (the apartments where my Brother lives now and Leah's brother used to live. ) I hung out with them quite a lot when I moved back to TX, but when I went to school in Georgetown, TX, I lost touch with them. I tried to remain in contact, but they were doing their own thing. I can't remember how that little clique parted, but I know that by the following year (maybe the fall of 1997) Syd had moved somewhere to work on acting and John had moved down to live with Peter in Austin. I think the last time I saw Peter was at their place around that time. Here are a few photo's from that night.




the book in the foreground is Umberto Eco's "A Theory of Semiotics." What I remember most about that evening was that we had just discussed Eco in one of my classes and in conversation with Peter I discovered that he was studying semiotics. Thinking that I could therefore hold my own in a conversation on this topic, I started asking some questions. Peter, of course, effortlessly and with no pretense, began speaking at a level way beyond my comprehension. I tried, briefly, to play along, but he was quick to realize that I had no idea what he was talking about. So he gently pulled back the throttle on his big brain and we chatted for a bit longer about something mundane.

I remembered him that way for several years. Hearing about his exploits second or third hand, I knew that this calm, humble, effortless genius, this singular, quirky spirit was traveling East Asia, meeting interesting new people and having adventures. Though I didn't keep in touch with him, there was something comforting in knowing that he was out there, that Peter existed.