In the progressive community, the word “activism,” like the words “left” or “liberal,” is generally a friendly term. We agree that the aim of activism—to effect social, political, and economic change in areas where direct or indirect oppression and suppression of rights is evident—is of utmost importance. But when it comes to what actually constitutes activism, the concept of activism, like the words “left” and “liberal,” becomes quite nebulous. It is imperative that we understand what does and does not constitute activism so we are able to determine the most effective methods of achieving activist goals.
Can true activism only be “traditional” activism, popularly identified with a long-haired youth chained to a tree? Or can activism include community service, publications and alternative media, and political and ethnic groups such as PBHA, Perspective, the IOP, UC, or BSA? Perhaps these are just different mediums for being active on social and political issues. But just as the tree-hugging definition of activism is unhelpful in its narrowness, the idea that activism means being involved in any political or social organization becomes meaningless in its broadness. By labeling virtually any involvement as activism, we can lose sight of what true activism is, and consequently spend our energies where they will less effectively accomplish our goals for social change.
In delineating for ourselves what does and does not constitute activism, we can look at Webster’s definition: “taking direct action to achieve a political or social end.” This definition incorporates two core features of activism, working and change: for a group to be activist, it must work for social change. All too often, our resistance to activism drives us towards social and political involvement that is not truly activist but is superficially close enough so as to soothe our consciences. The effect is a weakening of the progressive community from within: those who believe in activist goals spend their energies on placebo activism, and diminish the real impact of progressivism.
Many students, for instance, engage in community service with the goal of social change in mind. But community service rarely effects social change: it attempts to alleviate existing problems, and does not try to change the underlying structures that caused those problems in the first place. Community service can also have a dangerous side effect on the service-providers, lulling us into complacency and diminishing our long-term effect on the people we are seeking to help. Because the system will not change overnight, however, it is important to continue community service. If it is people we are working for, and not some ideology, then community service in the short term is as essential as working for long term social change. It also has the power to motivate people on activist issues, by exposing participants to social problems they might not have encountered otherwise. However, community service alone is not sufficient. To truly effect social change, activism is necessary.
Although the distinction is not black-and-white, activism can generally be divided into two categories: direct protest activism and less direct forms of activism, such as forums, debates, lectures, and articles. These less direct forms of activism are crucial in furthering activist goals. They play a key role in educating about activism and hence increasing public support, and they can serve to exert pressure on the offenders. An activist campaign without journalistic support lacks a certain intellectual cohesiveness and air of legitimacy, as well as the ability to influence the public and the offenders.
However, such methods alone cannot suffice. For activism to be as effective as it can be, direct physical protest is necessary. Only a limited number of forums can be held and articles written. And the impact of each subsequent article and organized discussion decreases. At some point, the physical support of the people is needed. Demonstrations show that many people, not just a few progressive writers, care—and care enough to spend their time and energy to actually go somewhere and do something. Furthermore, the visibility of demonstrations is invaluable. On campus, it is much easier for the administration to ignore pieces of newspaper than a throng of passionate students outside University Hall. Demonstrations also procure the attention of the press, stirring up more support for the issue as well as putting additional pressure on the offender. Students can write editorial after editorial about establishing an ethnic studies department, and hold forum after forum on the controversial issue, but these actions alone are not enough to get the administration to create an ethnic studies department. Physical demonstrations have not always been successful—perhaps rarely successful—on Harvard’s campus, but the primary reason is that most demonstrations do not have sufficient student support. If enough students consistently and forcefully demonstrated for a particular issue, it would be virtually impossible for the administration to neglect considering their demands, and the student pressure would most likely achieve some form of compromise with those in charge.
Granted, activist methods vary greatly depending on the specific issue. An activist campaign directed towards the administration of a university is different than a campaign directed towards a multinational corporation. That is, varying amounts of different forms of activism—forums, editorials, lobbying, letter-writing, direct protest—are suitable for different issues. Yet direct protest plays a special role that the other forms cannot play. Only direct protest can add mass visibility, procure strategic press coverage, demonstrate widespread and sincere public support, and add a sense of urgency to an issue. Direct protest is a vital part of virtually any activist campaign. Unfortunately, it is also the form of activism that is the least utilized.
Many progressive-minded individuals are very enthusiastic about writing on progressive issues in publications, as well as engaging in discourse about political and social issues. But the proportion of students who are also, or exclusively, engaged in direct protest activism is quite minimal. The result? At Harvard, where approximately 70 percent of the student body identifies itself as “liberal” (a loose term, admittedly), progressive publications thrive and social and political issues are passionately debated, direct protest activism occurs only on the fringes. Why? Why do we lack the activism that has the potential to be the most powerful?
There are numerous reasons why concerned progressive students rarely engage in direct protest activism. Many progressive students do not feel the need to do so because they feel they are already engaged in plenty of other progressive activities. After all, one can’t be involved in everything. But what makes them choose to be involved with other progressive activities and other forms of activism in place of direct protest activism? One answer is that direct protest activism is, quite frankly, a more foreign means of expression in our culture than the other activist forms of writing and discourse. Of course, Americans have a legacy for direct protest activism—who can forget the Boston Tea Party?—but in “mainstream” nineties America, physical protest is regarded as less kosher than written and oral protest. It is expected that progressive individuals will engage in casual conversations and organized discourse, take academic classes and write critical and inflammatory editorials on social and political issues.
Such are the common means of expression in the American mainstream (or elite, depending on from where one is coming). Our world very much revolves around the word—reading books, writing papers, conversing—and so it is understandable than when it comes to action we immediately fall back on these forms of expression which we use constantly and are very comfortable with. Organizing, marching, picketing, chanting—these are forms of expression to which we are much less accustomed and hence much less likely to participate in without making a conscious decision to do so. There is something that is perhaps a little too direct about direct protest activism for many people. It can feel raw, aggressive, and emotional to stand outside a store of a multinational corporation culpable of human rights abuses and shout, “What do we want? Justice! When do we want it? Now!” To engage in direct protest activism requires giving something of oneself, letting oneself care on an emotional level that goes deeper than the intellectual ideology that drives activism of the word. Such a commitment of emotional energy is more difficult than a commitment of intellectual energy for many people, and hence, consciously or unconsciously, they stay away.
Even when people are comfortable with the emotional tinge of direct protest activism, the fear that such activism will prove fruitless often wards them off. Picketing a Guess store on Newbury Street can feel depressing and intimidating—”Is my waving this sign really going to make a difference to the corporate heads miles and planets away?” Of course, the keys to such an action being effective are solidarity and commitment—i.e. having a solid mass of devoted individuals engage in protest activities for an extended period of time. “But if no one else is, what good will it do if I am?” It is much easier to write strong condemnations and believe that, “if people read this, things will change!” than it is to feel the crushing odds of Big Bad Corporation vs. Little Old Me by experiencing it directly. It is also easier to do nothing than to engage in what many students perceive to be half-hearted attempts at direct protest activism. We have an image of what direct activism could ideally achieve, and our fear of mediocrity keeps us away from realistic direct protest attempts. But direct protest activism is not an all-or-nothing activity; every little bit helps. Engaging oneself in direct protest activism is not a commitment to incite the Revolution.
The ivy-tower defense also finds many progressive students inactive in direct protest activism. It is easy to feel that more can be accomplished by self-educating and becoming involved in the discourse of the intelligentsia now so as to effect change later, than can be accomplished by protesting on the sidewalk outside of Guess. The insider approach is similar: many progressives feel it is more effective to work for change from within the establishment, and so, for example, they join the UC. Preparation for future work within the system is invaluable, and working within the system in the present can be a very effective form of activism. However, this does not replace the power of direct protest activism. It is a mistake to lock oneself in the ivy tower in anticipation of the “day of descent” when one will change the world; and it is a mistake to consider oneself beyond the proletarian tool of mass protest in favor of more palatable insider action.
Many progressives also harbor the belief that direct protest activism tends to degenerate into mindless radicalism, something they want no part of, for they fear it would undermine the credibility of the issue at hand. Such a fear is based more on buying into the propaganda of the establishment than on the truth of direct protest activism being inherently mindlessly radical.
As progressives, we must reclaim direct protest activism as a primary and more mainstream form of activism, thereby restoring its original strength. The progressive community is only as strong as its weakest link. We must all seek to overcome our comfortable yet self-defeating resistance to direct protest activism, for it is only by unleashing the potential power of direct protest activism that the progressive chain will be strengthened and battles will be won.