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Brazil 2022 elections: Part 2- What would a Lula victory mean?

It is important to defeat Bolsonaro, but the Left – in Brazil and beyond – must stay vigilant.


04/10/2022

Jair Bolsonaro. Photo: Beto Oliveira / Câmara dos Deputados. CC3.0

Following his article on the run-up to the elections, Bernardo Jurema looks at the potentials and limitations of a possible Lula victory. While winning a majority (48%) presidential candidate Lula has failed to gain 50% of the votes, and will have to face incumbent president Bolsonaro in a second round run-off at the end of  October

Lula and the indigenous movement

The indigenous movement has been the one social sector that has managed to extract some sort of commitment from Lula. In April, during an event at the indigenous gathering Acampamento Terra Livre (Free Land Camp), Lula promised to create a Ministry of Indigenous Peoples and revoke all the measures taken by President Bolsonaro against native peoples. That’s a welcome sign, and one of the very few concrete pledges made by former president Lula. It is also a demonstration of the strength of indigenous mobilization.

But as indigenous leader and thinker Aílton Krenak recalled in a recent interview, Marina Silva resigned as Lula’s Minister of the Environment because she firmly opposed the government’s push to “develop” the Amazon. Under Lula’s presidency between 2003-2010, hydroelectric dams such as Balbina, Belo Monte, Santo Antônio and Jirau, and other agribusiness and mining projects were greenlit, to the detriment of the forest and its inhabitants. Unfortunately, this was the approach that prevailed with Lula’s Worker’s Party (PT) in power, and continued, on steroids, after it was kicked out of power by those very sectors that benefited – and grew – under its tenure.

In another interview, Krenak acknowledges that there was some progress under the PT governments – “Something in the area of education, creation of more infrastructure in the indigenous territories, university places, recognition of cultural diversity. But these are things that only mitigate our drama.” He added, “The problem with our cause is that it doesn’t have a definitive solution. We have to fight for our rights all the time, because they are constantly being attacked. When the attack doesn’t come from the State, it comes from agribusiness. We are beaten by the left and the right. During the decade of Lula/Dilma governments 253 indigenous leaders were assassinated. We continue resisting, but also dying like bees. And two hundred dead people don’t make headlines. We want what is in the Constitution and should have been done by 1993: the demarcation of our lands.”

Raoni Metuktire, the kayapó leader, who is thought to be around 90 years old, led the opposition to the construction of the Belo Monte hydroelectric dam on the Xingu River. His people have opposed this project since its inception during the civil-military dictatorship that ruled Brazil between 1964 and 1985. It was under the PT government that the dam was built.

Raoni said: “[Lula] started planning this idea of raising Belo Monte. We managed to stop the construction, but it was restarted with the Dilma government. Our fight against Bolsonaro is the same as the one we had against Lula and Dilma. All of them – Lula, Dilma, Bolsonaro – generated this division between the Indians and the government. That’s why I’ve been fighting for there not to be this division.” The indigenous movement was able to extract a rare commitment from Lula not by uncritically adhering to his campaign. It is unfortunate that more sectors have not done the same.

Lack of political imagination on the left

Of course, the indigenous struggles go much beyond specific demands. It is worth quoting Krenak at length here: “The planet, this living organism on Earth, is not a warehouse. And the logic of governments, unfortunately, goes in this direction. Rethinking all this requires a huge mobilisation of different layers of reality – the economic, political, educational, technological, infrastructure idea. […] If we consider that we can deepen the debate in Brazil about the re-founding of Brazil, then we would have the possibility of articulating with Latin America, in a perspective of the new Latin American constitutionalism, that conceives the idea of a plurinational state. Because this colonial state -it doesn’t admit it- but because it is colonial, its DNA is that of a pirate, of a bandeirante [a settler-colonialist], that came to eat others, to steal from others. So if we don’t re-found, it is no use changing the government… we have to question the Brazilian colonial state. I am amazed that most of the political leaders that are in the debate are so alienated that they don’t realise that if we don’t change this broad cultural matrix, we will only reproduce the disaster, including from the environmental point of view.”

This lack of political imagination in Brazil’s left is at the root of much of the current woes that the country faces. As Brazialian philosopher Rodrigo Nunes has eloquently put it: “What should be criticised in the PT governments, it seems to me, is not the fact that they did not correspond to some ideal of what a leftist government should be, but the absence of a strategy so that the changes they introduced would feed back, reinforce themselves over time, take root, and create the conditions for more ambitious changes in the future. This becomes clear when we compare the ease with which the advances of the last decade are being reversed with the long historical continuity of the Vargas era. The project had feet of clay, in that it depended on conditions (mainly the win-win allowed by the commodities boom) that could not last forever, and it did not prepare for when these would end.”

“What one should criticise is not pragmatism per se, but a narrow pragmatism that says “one must do what is possible” without understanding that the “possible” is not a fixed quantity, but precisely the object of a transformative politics. The struggle is always to modify the possible, that is, to enlarge the sphere of possible transformations. If you don’t do this, you are left to luck: when conditions change, your strategy becomes unworkable. It is obvious that nobody can afford to simply ignore Realpolitik; but it is not given that Realpolitik can only be cynical, narrow-minded, dumb. It can also be invested with desire and ambition for transformation.”

What does a Lula win mean for European leftists?

It is clear that Lula’s victory over Bolsonaro is desirable. But leftists, in Brazil and abroad, should remain vigilant and pressure Lula towards the left. It is true that in certain aspects, the new government will be better and more progressive than the current far-right government. But it’s complicated. Take the war in Ukraine. In not taking sides and staying neutral, Lula’s stance is not substantially different from that of Bolsonaro. That’s because the latter, after taking an unabashedly pro-U.S. line under his disgraced former foreign minister Ernesto Araújo, has shifted back to Brazil’s long-standing foreign policy tradition of non-alignment.

Celso Amorim, who was hailed as “the world’s best foreign minister” by the Democratic establishment-aligned Foreign Policy magazine when he headed Brazil’s diplomacy under Lula, recently said in an interview: “you only end war in two ways: a total surrender, as in the case of World War II, or by negotiation, which can come from fatigue and various factors. But by negotiation you need both sides to make concessions”. In fact, that’s a position that is largely in sync with large swaths of the Global South. Amorim is currently Lula’s main foreign policy advisor. We can expect to see Brazil take a more assertive role in international affairs, and that is a welcome development for anti-imperialists and internationalists in general.

But there will be moments when the Global North left will have a role to play. The EU-Mercosur trade deal, for example, “represents a neoliberal trade model, which perpetuates neo-colonial patterns and increases the economic and political power of big corporations at the expense of human rights, the environment and people’s health” and “would increase inequalities, worsen precarious working conditions, land concentration and disregard for indigenous rights, disrupt local food production and increase the use of pesticides in Mercosur countries – with knock on effects for EU food safety”. The deal has not been closed because the EU has decided not to sign it as long as Bolsonaro leads Brazil. This could change after the election in October, but it should be strongly opposed by the European left.

Conclusion

Lula’s foreign policy can serve as a synthesis to shed light on the potentials and limitations of Lulismo. Evident achievements (WTO, FAO, relevant geopolitical actor in multilateral negotiations, Brazil-Iran-Turkey Agreement) managed to transform the balance of power (something not even attempted at the domestic level) in a creative and intelligent way, building coalitions, trying to change the agenda of the international public debate and maintaining a coherent practice and discourse emphasising multilateralism and mutual respect.

On the other hand, domestic “accommodation” – “respect” for the rules of the game – led to the cosy relationship between PT and contractors, who were taken along on presidential trips, especially to Latin America and Africa. Thanks to the Lava Jato investigations and its derivatives across Latin America, today we know exactly the extent of what happened (even if it was politically weaponized). This compromised and jeopardized the undeniable advances that occurred in the same government. This is the complexity of the Lula government. It is not only that both aspects have occurred, but that the second one has put the first one in jeopardy.

Yes, it is important to defeat Bolsonaro. Bolsonarismo, and the conditions that led to its emergence, also need to be, if not defeated – that is a tall order, after all – at the very least tackled. Automatic adhesion to Lula by the Brazilian left and social movements may lead to an electoral victory, but it most certainly won’t lead to a political one. On top of that, it is important to face the challenges presented by the climate emergency and Lula’s platform falls well short of what the moment requires.

The reactionary forces – the agribusiness sector, the financial sectors, the military, the evangelical churches, and so on – have been pressuring and will continue to pressure Lula to meet their demands. It is crucial that the left in Brazil steps up and starts to exert pressure as well. The international left must tread a fine line and support the Lula government whenever it faces imperialist attacks, but ultimately the allegiance should be with the people of Brazil and not with any one particular individual or political party.

Ultimately, international solidarity for those of us leftists in the Global North means pressuring our own governments to take decisions that lift the constraints for emancipatory policies to be carried out in the Global South.

Brazil 2022 elections: Part 1 – How did we get here?

The rise of Bolsonaro is partly down to mistakes made by the Left in government, argues Brazilan socialist Bernardo Jurema. First of a Two Part article


01/10/2022

The first round of the Brazilian elections will be held on October 2, 2022. 156 million Brazilians will vote to choose representatives for state legislatures, both houses of Congress, state governors and the presidency. Over the last months, opinion polls show a polarization between the incumbent far-right Jair Bolsonaro (with around 31 percent) and the center-left former president Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva (at about 48 percent). Despite several attempts to prop up a “third way” alternative, no other candidate has gone past one digit figures. In order to win outright in the first round, Lula needs 50 percent plus 1 of valid votes (excluding blank and null votes), otherwise the first- and second-place candidates face off in the second round.

An analysis of respectable, recent Ipec polls, by journalist José Roberto de Toledo, between December 2021 to August 2022, Lula went from 49 percent to 44 percent, while Bolsonaro shot up from 22 percent to 32 percent, and the total sum of all of Lula’s adversaries combined went from 38 percent to 44 percent. Toledo added that in this period, Bolsonaro has grown across all social segments and in all regions.

To understand this trend, look at how the two candidates acted in the past eight months. Lula has pandered to the right… To be more precise, he has pandered to a very specific and tiny, albeit influential, constituency: Brazil’s financial sector. This is illustrated by his vice presidential pick, former São Paulo governor and the darling of ‘Faria Lima‘ (Brazil’s Wall Street) Geraldo Alckmin. In May, Lula said “we don’t discuss economic policies before winning the elections. First, you have to win the elections. And then you have to know who you will have in your team and what you will do.” Lula has made no promises on the economy, except for the pledge to increase the minimum wage above inflation.

Bolsonaro’s record

This is nothing short of appalling. Under his watch, “Brazil has recorded 34.5 million Covid-19 cases, the third highest in the world, and 685,000 deaths, the second highest after the U.S. […] with the president’s denialism obstructing the state from effectively combating the pandemic”. Those figures are likely underestimated.

Deforestation of the Amazon forest exploded, illegal mining hit a record high (a territory the size of Taiwan has been deforested since he took power in 2019). Bolsanaro’s expected defeat led to intensified destruction in the forest by illegal loggers, cattle ranchers and gold miners. Incidences of abuse of Brazil’s indigenous tribes have risen sharply under Bolsonaro, as illegal gold miners flocked to the supposedly protected reserves. His administration “attacked Brazilian indigenous communities in every possible way”.

He presided over weakening of the country’s democratic institutions by constant threats of military intervention. Bolsonaro’s finance minister Paulo Guedes, a University of Chicago graduate, led a “free market, pro-business agenda” focused “on cutting bureaucracy, promoting privatisation and simplifying labour regulations” that led to a “widespread decline in quality of life”, says the Financial Times.

About 27 million Brazilians now live below the poverty line, the most since the start of records 10 years ago. Some 125.2 million people (58.7%) are food insecure, while 33 million (15%) go hungry every day. Bolsonaro has been a disaster across the board, amounting to a human rights crisis and a threat to democracy. None of this came as a surprise to anyone paying attention. Before being elected president, he had a long, well recorded history of racist, misogynistic, hateful statements and positions over 30 years in Congress.

Facing such a dire scenario, one cannot help but struggle to understand how this government can keep the solid support of one third of voters. Rio-based philosopher Rodrigo Nunes provides a compelling explanation: “In the face of this psychic suffering that is produced by the structural impossibility of realizing one of the most widespread beliefs in our society (that anyone can be their own boss, of meritocracy and of working with what they dream of), what the extreme right does is to say “you failed”. But “It’s not your fault, it’s the fault of Workers’ Party (PT) for stealing; of the artists who let themselves be bought by the Rouanet Law (a tax incentive policy for arts and culture); of the poor who were bought by the income transfer policies”.

Bolsonarismo, did not come out of the blue. It is a symptom of deep-seated problems in Brazilian society. These problems came to the fore in the wave of protests sweeping Brazil between June 2013 and the 2014 World Cup, with demonstrations, school occupations, shopping mall protests, garbage collectors’ wildcat strike in Rio, and so on,  across the country. Nunes argues that this was the most significant mass political fact since the re-democratization protests of the early 1980s. Nunes said, “The potential that existed there was much greater than all the subsequent developments, and it was not exhausted in any of them.”

This cycle of protests should be understood in the global context – alongside Occupy, Indignados, Arab Spring, Turkey’s Gezi Park, and so on. It was a diffuse uprising against the political system that on so many levels had failed many societal sectors. The insurgents/protesters broadly demanded better public services like healthcare, education, transit, housing.

The Dilma Rousseff government was caught off guard and was unable to address the protesters’ demands. Protesters were instead met with police brutality and media demonization. Because, as Nunes puts it, “the first Dilma government from the beginning had been alienating its natural political base, especially among younger people”.

The Workers Party (PT) in Office

Let’s assess the 14 years (2003-16) of the PT in power in order to understand how we got here. It was under the nominally leftist government of the PT that mega dam projects in the Amazon forest were built with devastating ecological and social consequences. Brazil’s prison population skyrocketed. An anti-terrorist bill that criminalized protests was approved and the Law and Order Guarantee decree, authorizing the deployment of army troops to a low-income neighborhood in Rio – was signed. This is far from an exhaustive list.

Between 2003 and 2012, 560 indigenous people were murdered in Brazil, an average of 56 per year – an increase of 168.3 percent compared to the average during the tenure of Lula’s predecessor, center-right Fernando Henrique Cardoso (1995-2002). According to Ermínia Maricato, one of Brazil’s most renowned urban planners and activists who worked in Lula’s government, the PT’s housing policy was a boon to the contractors, real estate developers and land owners. Meanwhile it “worsened the cities, aggravated the difficulties of access to housing among the poorest and created neighborhoods especially vulnerable to organized crime”.

A recent study published in the Revista Brasileira de Estudos e Defesa (Brazilian Journal of Defense Studies) found that the PT governments led the further militarization of the Ministry of Defense. “If we had built the necessary institutions for civilian control at that time, when this was possible politically speaking, today we probably wouldn’t have the absurdities that we see on a daily basis: too many military personnel in the government, too many benefits and excessive salaries.”

“All of this is related to the fact that we didn’t do our homework during a more progressive government,” said one of the co-authors, Juliano Cortinhas (Universidade de Brasília). In 2013, one newspaper article observed that “In Brazil, the homosexual issue moves at a slow pace”. One study found that in 2017, one year after the PT left office, violent deaths of LGBTQ people had reached an all time high. Things have only worsened since then.

Some recent research even questions the PT’s trademark achievement: the reduction of inequality. Upon closer inspection, it turns out that during the PT’s tenure “concentration of income in the hands of the richest actually increased”. One study “found that while the least wealthy 50 per cent of Brazilians increased their share of national income from 13 per cent to 14 per cent between 2001 and 2015, those in the top 10 per cent also grew their share – from 54 per cent to 55 per cent – and of course this share was substantially bigger to begin with.”

Marcelo Medeiros, visiting professor at Columbia University and one of Brazil’s most respected experts on inequality, noted, “Our policies to reduce inequality need to be revised. There are new players in the game, and they are heavy players, like wealth, inheritances, profits and capital gains … A very large part of inequality in Brazil will not be affected by anything that affects the labour market – such as education. That doesn’t affect taxation or inheritance.”

The PT’s legacy

There has been no reckoning with the Left’s experience in power. Lula’s approach of social-democratic conciliation has not been critically debated either within the PT or the broader Brazilian Left. Instead, Lula continues to play the game – a very rotten game – of Brazilian politics. He continues business as usual, preferring to build support within the country’s political and economic establishment, rather than the more arduous, but perhaps more sustainable work of building social support.

As pointed out, in 2002, Lula was elected president for the first time, with the backing of five parties and the PT controlled 19 of the 34 ministerial positions. Four years later on re-election, Lula had three parties in his coalition and the PT controlled 16 out of 36 ministerial positions. This year, Lula’s coalition is composed of 10 parties, including many who opposed the PT their whole political lives.

The best example is Lula’s VP pick. Geraldo Alckmin is a socially conservative, pro-police, anti-labour, neo-liberal former governor of São Paulo state, closely aligned with Brazil’s financial elite and the political godfather of notorious former Bolsonaro environment minister Ricardo Salles.

The risk of relying on Brazil’s political system is that it is not very reliable. Out of the 13 coalition parties that helped Rousseff get re-elected by a tiny margin in 2014, most including the largest ones, voted for her impeachment, while a couple smaller ones though divided, sided towards impeachment (Data here in Portuguese). Only her own party, the PT, and a small center-left party, voted against impeachment.

This illustrates the point. The fact that there has been no reckoning of the PT or Brazil’s left generally with the 14 years of the left in power means that lessons have not been learnt, and hence the same political approaches are doomed to be repeated.

Michel Temer, who took over after Dilma Rousseff’s impeachment (however spurious the grounds on which it was carried out), was her vice-president. At least 11 of Temer’s 24 ministers had been under investigation for participating in various capacities in the Petrobras corruption scheme that took place during the PT years. Some of them had been ministers or held key positions in the previous PT governments.

In fact, Temer’s finance minister, Henrique Meirelles, had been the president of Brazil’s Central Bank during both of Lula’s tenures (and before he had been President and COO of BankBoston worldwide). It was under Meirelles’ tenure as finance minister that the infamous spending cap to limit public spending to the inflation rate, “at the heart of President Michel Temer’s austerity plan”, was approved. It severely hindered any serious social spending.

Two weeks before the first round of the upcoming elections, Meirelles appeared alongside seven other former presidential candidates in past elections to show support for Lula. As one news report noted, “Meirelles’ presence is also a nod to the financial market and the business community, which has been in contact with the PT campaign, and raises speculation about the possible presence of the former minister in a future Lula government”.

This highlights that the problems and shortcomings of the experience of the Left in power in Brazil, stemmed not from being too radical, but, on the contrary, for accommodating Brazil’s political and economic establishment. As one on-line commentator has eloquently put it: “The ‘polarization’ equivalent of Bolsonarismo would be an outspoken supporter of the Shining Path with a real chance of coming to power through the ballot box. What we have is a completely bizarre right-wing turn of the Overton Window. Where fascio-liberalism has been normalized into the landscape and a center-right social-liberalism is seen as ‘left-wing extremism’.”

Most of Brazil’s Left and social movements have unconditionally adhered to Lula’s campaign. This has increased in the weeks prior to the first round vote amid intensifying calls for the so-called “useful vote“. Such calls, stemming from various societal sectors, urge Brazilians to vote for Lula in the first round in order to finish this off quickly. One independent journalist, voicing this position cautioned, “After the election, the matter is different: we will demand a better Brazil. Today’s vote does not mean automatic alignment tomorrow”. Others who support Lula, seek to extract guarantees – the business and financial sectors, for instance. One journalist wrote, “In the final stretch of the campaign before the first round of voting, different market and business sectors have intensified conversations with Lula’s (PT) headquarters in search of definitions or signals for a possible ministry of the Economy – should Lula be elected”.

As Carlos Eduardo Martins, Professor of Political Science at the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro (UFRJ), eloquently puts it: “A univocal position of the left in support of this path impoverishes it enormously, does not reflect its diversity and obscures its potential in the design of alternatives to the dramatic scenario in which Brazil finds itself. The problem of fascism in our country goes far beyond Bolsonaro, it is deeply linked to the excluding dynamics of our liberalism and to the place Brazil occupies in world geopolitics.”

To be continued after the election…

“Germany can’t just put its head in the sand because of the Holocaust.”

Interview with Wieland Hoban, chair of Jüdische Stimme für gerechten Frieden in Nahost

Interview with Wieland Hoban, chair of Jüdische Stimme für gerechten Frieden in Nahost

 

Ali Khan (AK): First of all, thank you for giving us your time today. I‘ll start by asking you about yourself, the organization, and your involvement in it.

Wieland Hoban (WH): I’m a composer and academic translator. It’s only over the last few years that I’ve really become involved in explicit activism. The Palestinian cause has been very important to me for many years, but I suppose I didn’t feel able to really get involved in the activism.

Especially in Germany, the Jewish population is so small and there’s nothing comparable to the kind of Jewish opposition to Zionism and Israeli policy that exists in the US or even in the UK. There is an even stronger assumption that Jews are on the side of Israel, and often those who aren’t are reluctant to get involved in activism because they feel under pressure to distance themselves from Israel and they easily feel attacked themselves.

I think Jewish people are often in a kind of bind in which they are forced to take sides. Their communities may be very pro-Israel, but their political outlook and identity might actually go against that.

I thought that this cause of Jewish pro-Palestinian activism was especially worth supporting. It’s also a better outlet for the Jewish identity of being an anti-Zionist, because in a lot of Jewish spaces that’s an unpopular position to have.

AK: What is the composition of your organization? And could you tell me a little bit about your own Jewish background? How has that inspired you in this direction?

WH: Our organization has existed since 2003, and in 2007 became a registered society. We’ve gotten some attacks from the mainstream, including Jewish organizations. We were awarded a peace prize by the city of Göttingen in 2019, and there was some protest because it was known that we support BDS. Fortunately, the jury stood firm. And even though the city and the university actually tried to prevent the prize ceremony in a university hall, fortunately, an alternative space was found.

I didn’t grow up with any strong sense of Jewishness. There was nothing religious about my upbringing. My father was American and, as a very young man, he had volunteered to join the US army in the Second World War when he heard what was happening to the Jews. Because, as he put it, he wanted to defend his people. This sense of tribal allegiance was something familiar to me, but not so much on my own part.

He didn’t observe any sort of rituals or traditions; his own parents were secular. The strongest, or the most obvious Jewish part of their identity was that Yiddish was their first language. They didn’t pass that on to him because I think they wanted him to be just an American without the baggage of being the foreigner – they had come from the Russian Empire (now Ukraine). In my twenties, when I was first became interested in exploring Jewish thought and culture a bit more, something that really got in the way of that was this strong association of all things Jewish with Israel.

That was around the same time that I was started feeling strongly about the Palestinian issue. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a way really to reconcile this Jewish element with my political position. You might say I allowed Zionism to spoil Jewishness for me, something that unfortunately lasted for many years.

The work of Jewish groups (like our own), such as Jewish Voice for Labour in the UK, and of course Jewish Voice for Peace in the US, inspired me and made me see that there was a way to combine a Palestinian, anti-Zionist position without having to leave behind or be alienated from Jewishness. Thiscreated a stronger sense of Jewishness in me and showed me a way to overcome that alienation.

AK: Your organisation’s complaint specifically targeted Yair Lapid and Benny Gantz, who are considered to be on the liberal spectrum. These politicians are defined by their opposition to Bibi Netanyahu. Tell us what motivated you to target these two people and not Naftali Bennett, for example, and his right-wing party.

WH: First off, I should say that these classifications of left and right might apply to domestic policies in Israel, but when it comes to the oppression of Palestinians, everyone is the same, regardless if they’re so-called liberals or hardliners.

Back in 2014, during the carnage of Operation Protective Edge in Gaza, Benny Gantz was Chief of Staff in the army. He was directly responsible for the bombing and the massacres there. Not long after that, during his own election campaign, he actually boasted about his anti-Palestinian credentials by saying that he had bombed Gaza back to the stone age.

Lapid has only recently come to enjoy this level of power. Accordingly, he hasn’t been directly involved in crimes against Palestinians for so long, but he was Prime Minister when the latest attacks on Gaza occurred in August.

More immediately, he was very recently in Germany visiting so soon after the attacks on Gaza, that we felt that it just highlighted the hypocrisy. Especially if you consider that a month or so previously, Mahmoud Abbas made this embarrassing and tasteless gaffe in his speech in Berlin where he spoke about 50 Holocausts. He was just slammed for that in a way that no Israeli politician would ever be slammed for killing Palestinians. In Germany, it was the greater offense to go against “Holocaust etiquette” than actually to kill people. So, we felt it would be an important way of drawing attention to this to say that Lapid is actually a criminal and that Gantz is one of the greatest war criminals in Israel.

We know that a complaint like this isn’t going to land them in jail, but we wanted this to be a reminder of what these people are and issue a statement against normalising relations with them.

AK: The Abbas incident was in response to a question about the Munich massacre. No journalist would ever ask an Israeli politician about any massacre and say, “Apologize.”

WH: That’s exactly why Abbas got worked up about it. If he had just refrained from the last bit of his statement, from using the word “holocausts,” then it would’ve been a reasonable statement. He’s saying, “You always expect us to condemn this or apologize for that, but what about all the massacres that have been perpetrated against Palestinians?” It’s an important point to make, but then he blew it with his choice of words – any and everything became about the Holocaust then.

AK: The use of the word Holocaust offended German sensibility more than anything.

WH: Correct. In fact, even the National Commissioner for fighting antisemitism, Felix Klein, commented that Abbas had been inconsiderate towards his host – i.e., not that it had been offensive to victims of the Holocaust, but rather to Germans. I thought that was just a remarkable, accidentally honest confession and expression of how much the Holocaust is part of German identity politics.

AK: Yair Lapid was at the UN General Assembly this month explicitly promoting a two-state solution with a peaceful Palestinian state, with the caveat that Israel will allow it – but it has to be to Israel’s taste. What is your organization’s views of a just peace (as stated in its name)?

WH: If I had to choose between justice and peace for the name, then I would opt for justice. There’s this old slogan that became more widely known with the George Floyd protests: “No justice, no peace.” Peace isn’t just when the oppressed submit or when they stop complaining, which is really what Israel’s expectation is. “If the Palestinians just shut up and stop making trouble, then it’ll be peaceful.” But the reason for the non-peace is the injustice.

These expectations are always asymmetrical. They want a demilitarized Palestinian state ­– one expects them to make do with some sort of pseudo-sovereignty that wouldn’t be expected of any state. Palestine is expected to be grateful for this. As subalterns, it’s all they can really aspire to.

We reject that. Our principle is that every person in historic Palestine – the territory controlled by Israel, regardless of whether it officially belongs to the state or not – should be equal, both in terms of human and electoral rights. Only a situation in which everybody is equal can be considered a just solution. Any so-called peace that isn’t based on justice is not peace; it’s just a sham, an arrangement, a lull in conflict.

AK: There’s a need for restitution as well.

WH: One of the crucial points is the right of return: Palestinians who have made their lives in different countries and who have substantial Palestinian communities – whether in the US or in Europe – are not going to suddenly move to Palestine.

The same rights any Jew in the world has to come to Israel and become a citizen in a fast track process with a lot of perks is what Palestinians need as well. They also need to be given a nice subsidized apartment in the West Bank, for example, or in Israel (but in the West Bank it’s cheaper). That’s considered reasonable based on the idea that that thousands of years ago Jews somehow came from there. But when you have Palestinians whose parents and grandparents still have the keys of houses that they lived in, we’re talking about a literal family connection still within living memory, not some distant quasi-mythological connection. The fact that the Jews would have that right, but not Palestinians, is already a form of apartheid.

AK: What kind of response has your activism generated within the media?

WH: There has been an international response and a number of articles. I also did a live interview for Al-Jazeera. In Germany I did an interview with one leftist paper, Junge Welt; we have a connection to them. They’ve often written about us. I’m sure plenty of people have seen it – we’re pretty active on Twitter and have plenty of followers, so that information is circulated. Germans mostly didn’t want to give the story any oxygen, so they avoided it.

AK: Is that the primary strategy: to deprive any Jewish group of oxygen rather than attack them directly?

WH: You get both. On platforms like Twitter, there are plenty of people who are happy to attack us and even call us anti-Semitic. As far as the wider discourse goes, I think people try to ignore us because quite often they don’t know what to do with Jewish anti-Zionists. The majority of our members have an Israeli background.

No one can say to them, “You don’t know anything about Israel.” Now I’ve been seeing the argument that most of us didn’t grow up in Germany, so we are not able to speak about anti-Semitism here.

A relatively small part of our members actually did grow up in Germany, but many have lived here for decades, or they have children who were born here. Clearly, it’s absurd to try to somehow invalidate our position by saying we’re not German enough. They can’t say, “You don’t know enough about Israel,” so instead they say, “You’re not German enough” to comment on the anti-Semitism discourse here. The hostile actors who engage with us just try to delegitimise our position by saying, “These people support BDS.” The idea is that clearly one can’t talk to such people, the same way one wouldn’t talk to neo-Nazis at a public discussion.

AK: The AfD presented a resolution declaring BDS to be antisemitic, while they have Nazi Holocaust denialists within their movement, not to mention a general rise in extra-parliamentary far-right violence. What do you think of the effects of these associations between anti-Palestinian, pro-Israel discourses and the far-right on Jewish life?

We’ve seen now in a variety of places how supporting Israel and the Zionist project is perfectly compatible with being on the far right. What we see today in Israel is far-right politics. Jewish and European nationalists – Viktor Orban in Hungary is a particularly clear example – have the common enemy of Muslims, Arabs – basically non-white people.

Whether or not he likes Jews is not so important because this is realpolitik. Netanyahu was always very happy to take the money of Christian Zionists, who cling to this anti-Semitic fantasy of the Messiah returning and requiring all Jews either to convert or be damned or killed. Obviously, Netanyahu is not interested in their bizarre beliefs. If they’re giving money and advocacy, then he’s happy to take that.

The AfD know that in Germany, it goes down well in the political mainstream to seem pro-Jewish. At the same time, they also feel an affinity with Israeli nationalism simply because they’re nationalists. Again, they have the shared enemy of Muslims and PoCs.

This is the political level. At street level, the neo-Nazis who go out marching are certainly not trying to seem pro-Jewish. They’ll be happy to beat up any Jews or to say that Jews have too much control and should therefore be contained or eliminated.

AK: It’s like a lot of these white nationalists just want to deport Jewish people into Israel. That’s almost their fantasy.

That’s also the sense in which Zionism is an internalization of anti-Semitic logic because it’s based on the idea that Jews really belong in Israel. It was undoing this long struggle for assimilation, recognition, and equality that Jews had gone through in Europe.

Whenever I have the opportunity to talk about the history of both Zionism and anti-Zionism, I highlight the way in which it’s just doing the anti-Semites a favor. It’s like people saying to immigrants, as they often do, “If you don’t like it here, then why don’t you go back where you came from.”

In earlier centuries, when people were more defined by religion, religious Jews could be treated as a foreign barbaric culture, in the same way that Muslims still are in some places. Once Jews had become accepted a part of mainstream society, they still occupied an in-between role. This is something that you see in far-right ideologies: the idea that Jews look like they belong to us, to the white race, but they actually don’t. They’re going to bring in all these dark-skinned people through immigration in order to destroy the white race.

On the left, plenty of Jews have a more diasporist view, and say that Jewish self-determination is not about founding a state with Jewish sovereignty but just about being part of our societies wherever we live. Similarly, they advocate joining in the struggle against discrimination towards all minorities, rather than seeking to be a majority with power. That, for me, is the alternative to Jewish nationalism.

AK: The “rootless cosmopolitanism” slur?

Yes, but in the 19th century, when European societies were less racially diverse, this sense of color and ethnicity was  different from what it is today. Today, I’d speak of a kind of conditional whiteness, in the sense that we aren’t harassed by the police in the same way that Black or visibly Muslim people are. At the same time, white supremacists are also going to view us as some of the people they want to get rid of.

AK: What is your advice on the strategies to pressure the state of Israel to help move this peace forward? What would you suggest the reader of this interview do in their locale, but particularly in Germany?

It’s important for white Jews to recognize that we do have the privilege of whiteness at the same time as being a minority, and that these kinds of privilege are contextual and conditional. Something that often causes tension between Jewish and PoC communities are competing claims about levels of discrimination and oppression.

I find it very important at generally – i.e., not just in anti-Zionist activism, but also in terms of how Jewish activism generally can work – for solidarity across minorities to be emphasized. That’s something you see a lot in the US, that an organization like JVP does.

That is really necessary here in Germany. There is a battle over who deserves more attention as a minority that suffers discrimination. That really gets in the way of the larger anti-racism and anti-discrimination struggle.

Of course, racists will also target Jews, but we are conditionally white and therefore, unless we’re wearing religious garb, we’re not going to get harassed by strangers as easily as people who simply look different. It’s a banal but important fact. It’s important to use the privilege that one does have and to create stronger ties between Jews and other minorities. That strengthens the Palestinian cause, too.

Berlin, for example, is the city with the largest Palestinian population in Europe. There are methods like BDS as a foreign activist policy, and there’s also the domestic activist policy of amplifying Palestinian voices, of trying to push the understanding that being pro-Palestine is part of the wider anti-racist cause rather than the wedge issue on the left.

Some people on the left think that fighting anti-Semitism takes precedence over fighting other kinds of discrimination. They follow the misguided logic that this equates to support for Israel in order to make up for the Holocaust. People on the left who otherwise support leftist causes end up supporting Jewish nationalism because they feel that Jews must be given this protected space. If you compare that to any other minority, the idea is normally for them to live without discrimination here and not to be sent off to some reservation.

Another tactic is to present to the majority the facts of the occupation. Point to the fact that increasingly more human rights organizations are talking about apartheid. One can’t just keep calling them all anti-Semitic. Germany can’t just put its head in the sand because of the Holocaust. We’re in a different situation now, in which a Jewish state is highly militarized, has nuclear weapons, and is supported by the most powerful countries in the world.

We can’t cling to this idea of the Jew as a victim. The Jew in Auschwitz is the image held in people’s minds in Germany, as is the Jew at risk from all these Muslim immigrants. Being against anti-Semitism then leads to a xenophobic way of protesting it. That is what I also see as part of our work because we are in Germany,  as opposed to Israel or in Palestine.

At the same time as supporting the international cause and trying to do international activism where we can, we’re also trying somehow to affect the German discourse. Because Germany is a major supporter of Israel – not just discursively but also militarily.

In case you missed it: Highlights from documenta 15

A glimpse of this year’s 15th edition of the international art festival


29/09/2022

Photo: https://ruangrupa.id/en/documenta-fifteen/

The backstory

In late September, I joined the great migration to Kassel to experience the city’s international art festival, referred to as “documenta” (this year named documenta 15). According to its website the origin of the event dates back to 1955, when the Kassel painter and academy professor Arnold Bode endeavored to bring Germany back into dialogue with the rest of the world after the end of World War II, and to connect the international art scene through a “presentation of twentieth century art.” 

Presently, documenta is an exhibition of contemporary art held in Kassel every five years under changing Artistic Direction. documenta is considered one of the most important exhibitions of contemporary art worldwide. Kassel’s “Museum of 100 Days,” as documenta is often called, has become a seismograph for international contemporary art and its engagement with current social issues attracts artists and visitors on a global scale. This year, the 15th documenta is being curated by the Jakarta-based artists’ collective ruangrupa. This year documenta exceeded initial projections, attracting 738K visitors who came to the mountainous city to take part in the monumental exhibits. 

Unfortunately, documenta 15 fell victim to Germany’s controversial censorship, provoking unfounded claims of antisemitism. In reaction to these claims, ruangrupa collected 65 signatories and issued an assertive open letter addressed to documenta’s board and shareholders, including the city of Kassel and the German state of Hesse. This letter addresses the emotional sentiment exasperated by German institutions’ policing through manufactured censorship, “we are angry, we are sad, we are tired, we are united.” 

Visiting documenta 15 

I spent two full days touring the endless exhibitions scattered around Kassel (as seen on the map below). documenta strives to offer compelling experiences for less privileged audiences. ruangrupa brought forward a whole generation of artists and types of practice for the 15th edition of Documenta delivering [a social] purpose, giving “some idea of what it is like to make art in precarious political, economic and social circumstances.”

Taring Padi

The Taring Padi dates back to 1998, founded by a group of progressive art students and activists in response to the Indonesian socio-political upheavals during the country’s reformation era. “In 2002 Taring Padi became a collective in order to further inclusivity and to facilitate personal dynamic of its members, whilst maintaining its progressive and militant character in realizing the potential of art as a tool for social change.” Over the years the group has produced a distinctive collection of banners, woodcut posters, and wayang kardus (life-sized cardboard puppets) which have produced examples for art as a tool for social change within socio-political and cultural solidarity and action. Taring Padi’s murals and painted works are colorful, using an array of vibrant—sometimes intentionally garish or, evidently, unintentionally offensive—symbols and figures. 

Regrettably, several pieces that were planned for display became “confronted with harsh, outlandish accusations of anti-Semitism.”  In an interesting element of the backlash against their now-removed mural People’s Justice (2002), their stated mission in documenta 15 is to communicate, as they write: “Flame of Solidarity: First they came for them, then they came for us”—a quote that, clanging against a furor about anti-Semitism evokes Martin Niemöller’s oft-referenced poem about the Holocaust:

“First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—Because I was not a Socialist. Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—Because I was not a Trade Unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—Because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.”

Smashing Monuments 

The film “Smashing Monuments” by Argentinian Sebastián Diaz Morales, interviews five ruangrupa members who surprisingly emerge from the group’s anonymity. Each artist visits a different monument from the 1960s to early 1970s and engages in friendly mocking dialogue with the figures from a time of nationalism and power struggles juxtaposed with Indonesia’s past and present. The dialogue with these monuments sculpted with intentional meaning, provokes a thought-provoking dialogue “questioning and appropriating reality” which “strip reality of its familiarity and distort it, making it seem like something else.” 

Photo courtesy of Instagram (@firmanyursak)/NOWJAKARTA

Tokyo Reels Film Festival

The Tokyo Reels Film Festival was presented by Subversive Film, a cinema research and production collective that aims to cast new light upon historic works related to Palestine and the region, to engender support for film preservation, and to investigate archival practices. Their long-term and ongoing projects explore this cine-historic field including digitally reissuing previously overlooked films, curating rare film screening cycles, subtitling rediscovered films, producing publications, and devising other forms of interventions. Formed in 2011, Subversive Film is based between Ramallah and Brussels.

documenta details that the screening of a recently restored film, sheds light on the overlooked and still undocumented anti-imperialist solidarity between Japan and Palestine. Subversive Film was entrusted with a collection of 16mm films and U-matic tapes, dozens of posters, and a full library safe-guarded by a Japanese solidarity group in Tokyo. The material, considered either lost or unknown to the public, was sent to Japan in several waves from 1967 to 1982.

Unsurprisingly, the Palestinian film was put on blast. As Dafoe writes “calling it “highly problematic,” the panel said the film is “filled with anti-Semitic and anti-Zionist set pieces” that are presented as objective fact. The artists’ “uncritical discussion” glorifies the “terrorism of the source material,” the committee argued.”

The Question of Funding

An exhibit offered by a growing collective of cultural producers and community organizers from Palestine called The Question of Funding focused on representing the ongoing process involved in producing, documenting, accumulating, and disseminating resources, experience, and knowledge with their wider community. It aims to rethink the economy of funding and how it affects cultural production both in Palestine and the world.

Born out of informal and open encounters within Palestine’s wider arts community, The Question of Funding sought to question, debate, and find solutions to the prevalent constrictive international funding models on which Palestinian cultural institutions continue to depend.* These encounters grew beyond the cultural sphere to include the wider Palestinian community. They touched on pressing issues concerning the political and economic roles of cultural work, both within and outside the institution, and their impact on cultural infrastructures in Palestine and worldwide.

Photo: https://thequestionoffunding.com/How-to-work-together

In addition to the detailed infographics (displayed above), the exhibition offers a creative approach to the questions about the financial burdens of cultural work and the economy more generally will take the form of four books in which they explore issues related to labor, communal resources, and value through illustrated stories addressed to the youth. Each story was translated and offered in Arabic, German and English to promote accessibility.

The Gentle Asphalt I Deserved is the journey of a shoe that travels between different owners and classes. The story explores how the shoe’s value changes from one geography to the next.

Photo: https://thequestionoffunding.com/How-to-work-together

Britto Arts Trust: rasad

The rasad exhibit offers an elaborate twist on a visit to the market. A playful series of fake food objects—eggs, milk, vegetables, potatoes—is installed across a number of different shelves and inside a constructed pantry. These faux foods, made from surprising materials—including ceramic, plaster, plastic, cotton, and corrugated metal—include painted ceramic papaya juice cartons and squishy, embroidered cushions shaped like Campbell’s soup cans. Some, like painted cartons that remind viewers that “organic food is a lie,” are overtly political, drawing a thought-provoking connection between the international food trade, the legacy of colonialism, the slave trade, and ongoing economics of extraction and exploitation. 

documenta’s Dismal Labor Conditions

documenta’s last edition (documenta 14) made headlines regarding the “personal and political interests” that “led to lack of oversight ” and, allegedly, “borderline-illegal money transports”. Leading to bags of cash being transferred, and yet staff that earned well under the promised 9 euros/hour. Although the event happens every 5 years, there is plenty of time to see what else could go wrong. The ongoing anti-Semitism publicity and demonstrations became the focus, and this anger evolved into misdirected racist activity aimed at the staff themselves. “On May 28, the exhibition and living spaces of documenta were broken into and defaced with what can only be interpreted as a death threat.”

Gaining little attention were the continued poor labor conditions cast upon the staff of documenta. This open letter addressed to all members of documenta und Museum Fridericianum GmbH, outlines concerns from the  employees regarding their intense working conditions, high levels of stress and the devaluation of their role – feedback that was given, but completely ignored. The letter goes on to detail dozens of examples of mismanagement including: poor staff coverage during covid outbreaks, violent communication from top-down staff members and uncompensated workloads, to name a few. 

Overworked employees cast doubt over the documenta’s touted “lumbung spirit”. documenta employees provided context to their frustration:

“1,500+ artists have been invited to show work, requiring lots of extra red tape, from last-minute visas to readjusted wall labels.”

Unsurprisingly, the open letter mentions the problems are “rooted more broadly within the structures of culture work in Germany and beyond.” Here’s hoping documenta will finally turn a corner and start practicing what they preach in the godliness of their prestigious art platform for which they are internationally known. 

 

 

Eastern European racial capitalism

Romania’s economy is built on the expropriation of unfree Roma labor. It is time for reparations.


25/09/2022

On the grounds of one of Romania’s most famous monasteries, Cozia, stands an intriguing well. The inside of its walls is decorated by four statues, depicting the heads of a Hungarian, an Ottoman, a Wallachian Prince, and an enslaved Roma man. If the first two represent the enemies that the third defeated, the presence of the last statue might seem surprising. Historian Petre Petcuț, however, proposes an explanation: the Roma enslaved by the Cozia Monastery might have provided the labor for the 1517 renovation works that also saw the building of the well, a labor chronicled in the statuary record.

That the presence of this statue might come as a surprise is due to the collective forgetting and denial of Romanian chattel slavery. Indeed, the Cozia Monastery is the setting for the first historical mention of enslaved Roma on the territory of modern Romania: in 1388, Wallachian Prince Mircea the Elder gifted the Monastery 300 enslaved families. From the Middle Ages to the final abolition act of 1856, the unfree labor of the Roma was essential for Wallachia’s and Moldova’s economies, while racialized precarity is part of Romanian capitalism to this day.

A regime of coerced labor

The Roma in Wallachia and Moldova, two of Romania’s precursor states, were enslaved by the Crown, by the Orthodox Church, and by the nobility. Many were forced to labor in the fields and to maintain the vast domains of noblemen and monasteries. Others worked as skilled craftsmen, an economic domain that was virtually exclusively Roma during the Middle Ages. Some of them, as well as the Roma enslaved by the Crown to mine precious salt or pan for gold, would lead a nomadic lifestyle. Regardless of where they worked and by whom they were enslaved, the Roma all shared the same condition. They could be sold, gifted, sexually abused, or punished in any way the enslaver desired. And, according to the law, their children would be born into slavery.

During the Romanian Middle Ages, the Roma were marked as different because of their origins, language, and religion. As scientific racism was developing in Europe and the Americas in the 18th century, Roma enslavement too became racialized. But, as with other examples of slavery, racialization came as “part of a labor regime with an elaborate infrastructure.” Unfree, violently coerced labor built Romanian monasteries and courts. The crops, gold, salt, and craft and luxury products that created the wealth of noblemen, princes and the church were similarly the result of enslaved labor. This accumulation of wealth constituted the foundation of modern Romanian states’ capitalist economies and markets.

The study of capitalism’s dependence on unfree labor has a long history, especially in the Atlantic world. One of its milestones is the 1944 publication of Capitalism and Slavery, written by radical historian Eric Williams, later the first prime-minister of Trinidad and Tobago. In this book, Williams argues that not only had the Industrial Revolution been built on the labor of enslaved Africans, but abolition itself came when it was an economic necessity for the British Empire.

There are, of course, major differences between the histories of slavery in the Caribbean and the Romanian states. But, in this respect they are similar. After centuries of Roma resistance and maroonage, Romanian noblemen and politicians finally abolished slavery in the mid-19th century. This happened against the background of moral pressure from Western Europe, as the “shame” of being the last slaveholders on European soil was a common trope in abolitionist discourse. But it was also the result of economic pressure and part of the transition toward capitalism. In the same Western Europe, wealth was being produced in large-scale agriculture, factories, and trade. A mode of production based on enslaved labor could not function this close to the core of the capitalist world. Modern Romanian entrepreneurs needed employees, not enslaved people tied to monasteries and noblemen. Perhaps more importantly, early Romanian capitalists also needed the essential skills of nomadic craftsmen, especially the Roma blacksmiths. For them, abolition was followed by constant efforts at forced sedentarization and employment.

Roma laborers under capitalism and communism

It is no surprise that the Roma received no property or compensation after emancipation. “Free in the double sense” of being able to enter employment and having nothing else to sell but their labor power, they had no choice but to work for their former masters. Either at the center of budding industries or precariously employed in agriculture, Roma labor remained foundational to the Romanian economy. Some emancipated Roma continued to practice their crafts through towns and villages, but by the end of World War I, most were replaced by industrial production.

The Roma were nevertheless still marginalized within, or excluded from, the working class. Racialized differentiation and violence culminated in the horrors of the Porajmos. Afterwards, communism partially interrupted the precarization of Roma laborers. Through industrialization and collectivization, marginalized Roma workers were offered permanent employment. This employment, however, was in heavy industrial and agricultural labor, with still insufficient remuneration. Moreover, the “colorblind” communist approach to ethnic differences meant that racism was merely swept under the rug. This exploded after 1989, when pent-up racial resentment, together with political and economic uncertainty, triggered ethnic clashes throughout Romania, including anti-Roma pogroms that continued into the 2000s. Having entered communism with little to no property, Roma families also had little to gain from Romania’s rabid privatization. With no employment and no intergenerational wealth, the Roma were once again marginalized within Romania’s newly capitalist economy.

This economy nevertheless still depends on precarious, underpaid, and seasonal employment. Especially in constructions or agriculture (be it industrial or small-scale), informal employment predominates, without contracts, taxes, or social protections. Despite the stigmatizing discourse accusing Roma people of laziness and of lacking a “culture of work,” these sectors of the economy would simply not be profitable without precarious labor. Because of its structural expropriation of marginalized labor, capitalism coopts and reproduces racialized differentiations within the working class. In Romania, the Roma occupy these precarious margins as the result of centuries of slavery, economic coercion, racial violence, and geographic segregation. Of course, the masking of such structural divides under moralizing discourses is not without its purpose. By blaming the Roma, Romanian workers can look down on an inferior class that makes their own position look more stable and keeps them from identifying the structural sources of Romania’s poverty and corruption.

Toward reparations?

In the Americas, awareness of how slavery and colonialism built the wealth of the US and Europe led to calls for reparations. If the coerced work of African Americans made the US into what it is today, then they deserve a bigger slice of the pie; or, at the very least, acknowledgments and apologies. In Romania, this consciousness is still being born, due to the tireless work of Roma and gadjo (non-Roma) activists and scholars. Still, reparations are already being demanded. Political activist Ciprian Necula puts forth a “rough calculation,” as “an illustration of a potential direct contribution of the Roma over the centuries as slaves:”

“266,335 (slaves [recorded as being emancipated]) x 471 (years) x 365 (days) x 5.4 Euro (minimum [wage] per day) =247,249,700,235 Euro”

This is the money that the Roma did not receive for their work. As Necula notes, this is higher than Romania’s GDP, showing the “dimension of the contribution of Roma – with their own hands and skills – to modern Romania.” Margareta Matache, an activist and Harvard researcher, is another prominent supporter of reparations. She highlights the lack of acknowledgement and reconciliation efforts from the Romanian state, from the Orthodox Church, and from Romanian civil society. All these add up to a continuation of racial violence, one that erupted to new heights during the Covid pandemic.

Eastern European whiteness is complicated and ambiguous, but, at least in Romania, it can be better understood as what Matache calls gadjo-ness. Gadjo-ness is built on a foundation of anti-Roma racism and through an erasure of histories of violence and oppression. Gadjo-ness is also embedded in a material system, placing some in positions of domination and economic advantage over others. Romania (and not just Romania) was built, sometimes quite literally, by enslaved Roma people, and gadje benefit from this to this day. This history of Romanian slavery, of Eastern European racial capitalism, and the consequences that it has on European anti-Roma racism to this day can no longer be denied.