The Left wages its own battle against sin in North Carolina.
This article is actually a very good illustration of a point I’ve made before about pan-secessionism and anarcho-pluralism. Some perceive these concepts as creating situations where particular sets of cultural, economic, or political values are written in stone and locked in forever within the context of decentralized polities. But pan-secessionism nor anarcho-pluralism are nothing of the sort. I’ve always assumed that with decentralization these kinds of battles would be played out at the local and regional level. North Carolina is a fairly red state, but that doesn’t mean the blues aren’t going to put up a fight just like the reds might put up a similar fight in uber-blue California. I wholeheartedly endorse the Southern Independence movement myself. Even better, I’d like to see North Carolina become an independent nation. Or even better yet, I’d like to see North Carolina dissolved into a federation of cities, towns, counties, villages, and neighborhoods. That said, I don’t disagree with at least some of the issues these folks are raising either. It’s not always a question of either/or.
I spent most of this past weekend answering two questions: “Why are you so interested in what happens in North Carolina?” (Posed mainly by people not from North Carolina.) And: “Why doesn’t anyone care what’s happening here in North Carolina?” (Posed largely by folks rallying in North Carolina.)
Dahlia Lithwick writes about the courts and the law for Slate. Follow her on Twitter.
The answer to the first question was laid out forcefully by Prof. Jedediah Purdy in the Huffington Post. As state governments limit reproductive rights, gerrymander voting districts, harm workers and the environment, and suppress the vote, we are all North Carolina now. The answer to the second question is that I don’t really know why the major national media, with a few notable exceptions, keeps ignoring this story.
So my son and I joined friends from Virginia and Georgia on a road trip to Raleigh, N.C., on Saturday, where tens of thousands of protesters gathered, largely undetected by cable news, to protest the raft of vicious new laws passed by the North Carolina state legislature in the past two years. Organizers hoped that 20,000 protesters would assemble. The NAACP estimates that between 80,000–100,000 protesters turned out. Either way, it should have been news.
If you haven’t heard of “Moral Mondays” or North Carolina NAACP President Rev. William Barber II or the amazing HKonJ coalition, which stands for Historic Thousands on Jones Street, well, check it out: For the past eight years, a diverse group of North Carolinians under the HKonJ umbrella have been protesting state government policies at monthly rallies. Then last spring Moral Mondays became a thing. When the GOP won both the state House and Senate and then elected Republican Pat McCrory as governor in 2012, the party gained complete control of state government for the first time in more than 100 years. GOP-controlled redistricting and a truly nasty voter suppression bill attempt to ensure that this remains the permanent state of affairs in North Carolina. The legislature promptly raised taxes on the bottom 80 percent, eliminated the earned-income tax credit for 900,000 people, slashed education spending, passed radical gun legislation, declined the Medicaid expansion (leaving 500,000 of its poorest citizens without health insurance), and passed a draconian abortion bill that was tacked onto a motorcycle safety law. The state, in short, turned on its own workers, its own minorities, its own teachers, its own doctors, its poor, its women, and its prisoners, with what has looked like unbridled glee. As Deborah Gerhardt explained recently in Slate, the effect of the school cuts on the state’s teachers has been nothing short of devastating.
The steadily expanding Moral Mondays protests—held since April at the state legislature—led to the arrests of almost 1,000 peaceful citizens protesting at the rotunda. And Saturday’s demonstration was, according to Ari Berman, “the largest civil rights rally in the South since tens of thousands of voting rights activists marched from Selma to Montgomery in support of the Voting Rights Act.” As the Moral Mondays movement has grown, it has spread to other states, with protesters in Tennessee and Georgia recently arrested at their own Moral Mondays demonstrations in response to state government outrages. South Carolina has now created “Truthful Tuesday.” I think it’s probably high time Virginia progressives adopted something along the lines of a “Thoughtful Thursday.”
Based on Saturday’s turnout in Raleigh, this is not a movement that is going to fade away. And based on the growth of out-of-state participation, it’s no longer clear that what happens in North Carolina only matters to North Carolinians. One of the great ironies of the Moral Mondays movement is that although Republican politicians like to deride the protesters as out-of-state meddlers, they are passing mass-produced American Legislative Exchange Council–sponsored laws that are crafted at the national level by huge interest groups promoting national big-business interests. Hardly a grassroots effort. It turns out that social justice, like corporate greed, knows no geographic boundaries.
So what was Saturday’s protest like? Lovely. Busloads of marchers from across the country joined tens of thousands of state protesters on a chilly gray morning. They started at Shaw University, where 54 years ago the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee was founded and radically altered both politics and protest in the South. They ended up in the plaza and surrounding streets across from the state Capitol. No arrests were planned at this protest, and none occurred. Parents marched with their babies, LGBT activists stood next to doctors in lab coats, and immigration reformers and students of all ages chanted and sang. The reproductive rights activists wore pink. Organized labor supporters wore red. Teachers, veterans, and nurses stood shoulder to shoulder with rabbis, imams, Unitarians, and Baptist preachers. Sound corny to you? As someone who fully supported the goals of the Occupy movement of 2011 but never felt perfectly comfortable with the fact or rhetoric of an occupation, this form of protest—nonviolent, respectful, even expressly faith-based and across multiple coalitions—felt right. As Barber put it: “Justice is what love looks like in public.”