Reflections on American Democracy from West Africa

 

Reflections on American Democracy from West Africa

Two Decades, Two Elections, a World Apart

Today, on my daily hike, I walked into the past while reflecting on the recent attack on Democracy in our nation’s capital.

In 1997 I had the privilege of being asked by the Ford Foundation to put together a team of people to introduce the Internet to the Civil Society community in West Africa. Until we brought several thousand computers and training to the region even most students taking computer training classes had not laid hands on a keyboard. What flowed from that Ford grant was far more than just hardware, software and training for the NGOs in West Africa but also ten life-altering years for us. Years that gave us insights into the revolutionary possibilities of the net as well as the importance of the example that we in the USA set for the rest of the world.

Nigeria was particularly instructive in this process. In 1997 Nigeria was a study in authoritarian repression, under the thumb of a dictator named Sanny Abacha. The warnings of the US State Department were enough to scare off most of the people I invited to be on the team initially, but eventually, I was able to put together a team that included an extraordinary Nigerian-born American citizen, Dr. Chidi Nwachukwu, and a fearless friend from college Philip “Kip” Bates III who was a tech guru for the University of California in Santa Barbara. It was our task to help pro-democracy, healthcare, environmental and economic development organizations be more effective; to expand their reach through digital communication, providing computers, training and support for their efforts. Four other Nigerians, two men and two women played critical roles in the work we were to do. In the interest of their own safety right now I hesitate to name them for reasons that will become clear.  

The flight into Lagos, Nigeria aboard British Airways was to be the beginning of a surreal experience. Nothing on the trip to that point would hint at the experience that lay ahead. It was only when we deplaned into Lagos on a gangway that was completely dark, forcing us to feel our way into the terminal where only 1 in 4 lights were functional that we began to realize that we were, as Kip put it: “not in Kansas anymore.”  Almost nothing else that defines a well-run airport was working - people movers and escalators were motionless, arrival and departure boards void and unlit, 

Within 24 hours we were subject to numerous shakedowns by uniformed officers, saw a headless corpse along the freeway (“It takes a few days to pick those up” -  our driver remarked.). 

A few days later we were arrested on the streets of Lagos when our cabbie stopped to ask for directions. Only the most rudimentary maps existed of the city of 13 million and GPS was et to come.  My entire team was held at gunpoint by military and police officers, pointing semi-automatic rifles, for more than 6 hours - demanding to know what our “mission” was. Eventually, we were released. 

Years later, from the safety of home, we would speculate that we were arrested because we were helping pro-democracy NGOs, but it is just as likely that it was pure paranoia by police and military infected by the tentacles of authoritarianism.

I relate this beginning to a decade of work mostly because it gave us a glimpse into what happens when a government runs roughshod over its people and the rule of law is a far off dream to the millions of people living in the grip of authoritarian rule. 

Within a year of that first trip to West Africa Abacha had died - under mysterious circumstances - and Nigerian leadership had been taken over by General Abubakar, who replaced Abacha, but who was determined to return Nigeria to democratic rule. In 1999 the Nigerian people elected Olusegun Obasinga president of a Democratic Nigeria.  

Obasinga was far from perfect as a leader but a focus on ending official corruption began to lift the spirits of the Nigerian people and by the time we made a trip in November 2000 it was clear that Nigeria was moving in the right direction and hope was beginning to blossom. Suddenly, if a uniformed officer tried to shake us down for money all we had to do was ask them - very publicly - to speak up and they would immediately back off. 

The US election of 2000 occurred right in the middle of our trip. The recount in Florida, the hanging chads, the protests, the judicial decisions. In every moment of the drama I had a hoard of “students” eager to understand what was going on, full of questions, awestruck that an election this close did not result in soldiers and tanks in the streets. 

Despite my intense disappointment over the results and the final decision by the Supreme court, I watched Vice President Gore make what was the most wrenching speech of his life, a concession in spite of winning a majority of votes. It was heartbreaking and yet I have never been so proud of my country and our dedication to the rule of law and the democratic process. I shared that with all of the Nigerian people who watched and listened to me in rapt attention. They had a front-row seat not only to history but to the power of an idea. 

On Thursday the 7th of January 2021 I wept as I watched a few thousand people attack OUR capital in an attempt to overturn a valid election. My sadness was not only because all of those people, young and old, with whom I had stood in Nigeria some twenty years ago had watched that idea betrayed, but also because they are living with a president of their own who has taken a lead from our president to drag Nigeria into their own corrupt hell. 

For nearly ten years Nigeria was on a path toward a more perfect union and in the last 4 years everything they had gained has been lost. 

It’s quite likely that you never even knew this. Even in normal times Nigeria is not really on the radar of most Americans, though it has the potential to be the economic powerhouse of Africa. Over the past four years we have all been drinking daily from the firehose of Donald Trump’s narcissism, there has barely been any bandwidth for most of what has truly mattered.

While America has looked the other way President Muhammadu Buhari has looted his country and betrayed his people. 

Donald Trump has done more than just coddle the dictators and strongmen we know, he has done violence to the idea of Democracy all over the world and it is in the quiet recesses of human endeavor that he may have done the greatest violence of all.

Now it falls to us, we the people, to wrest our democracy back from the precipice and to send a message to tyrants near and far, including our own, that we may have lost sight of the dream briefly but we will not squander the lessons we have learned. It will not be easy, it will not be fast, and it will not be without sacrifice - but let us begin.

To my friends in Nigeria and in the hundreds of countries where men and women yearn for freedom, equality and opportunity, do not despair, the dream lives on.

Wayne King is an author, artist, activist and recovering politician. A three-term State Senator, he was the 1994 Democratic nominee for Governor and most recently the CEO of MOP Environmental Solutions Inc., a public company in the environmental cleanup space. His art  (WayneDKing.com) is exhibited nationally in galleries and he has published three books of his images with another, "New Hampshire - a Love Story", on the way. His most recent novel "Sacred Trust" a vicarious, high voltage adventure to stop a private powerline is available on Amazon.com. He lives in Thornton, between Rattlesnake Ridge and the Waterville Range. He proudly flies both the American and Iroquois Flags. His website is: http://bit.ly/WayneDKing

Aspenglow on the Roaring Fork River

Umbrellas in a Museum

Storm Over Half Dome, Yosemite National Park

Esheheman's Breath

The Sorkin Solution - The View From Rattlesnake Ridge

 

The View From Rattlesnake Ridge

Ruminations from an Unabashed Optimist, an Environmental Patriot and a Radical Centrist

 

The Sorkin Solution 

A “West Wing style” Unity Slate for Supreme Court might begin to heal the wounds and restore the Court’s standing

This past spring, in the throes of the early days of the pandemic I went for my twice-daily walk along the path to the Welch Mountain trailhead, stopping by the beaver pond along Orris road. I sat by the pond quietly watching for the pair of beaver that I had greeted almost every day before the ice formed in late fall and realized after an hour that something was wrong. How many days had my dog, Boof, and I visited that pond in the past year and seen our erstwhile pals every day? How many times had the loud “SLAP” of their tails served as both greeting and warning of our intrusion into their peaceful world? They were gone. 

A month later when I had the opportunity to interview legendary mid-wife and author Carol Leonard, guardian of about 400 beaver on Bad Beaver Farm in Maine - and author of “Tales from Bad Beaver Farm” - she suggested that they may have run out of softwood - a staple of their diet. They may also have just decided to move on for any of a half dozen other reasons, or, they could have been “trapped out” during the winter. In any case, they were gone and I was denied the joy of their company on my daily pilgrimage to the pond. I’ve had my fair share of mourning over the last year and a half but it still felt a bit like an added dose in the midst of a pandemic. 

In addition to this, I’ve been mourning for my country. Yearning - not for bygone days - but for what seems like a loss of shared values that allow us to reach beyond differences of opinions toward that mythic “more perfect union”. We have made so much progress in the last 60 years, yet it seems, in these past four, that we’ve all simply stopped listening to one another. With this lack of communication and community has come a decaying of the institutions that have been the vanguard of our progress, among them the US Supreme Court. 

I expect this idea will elicit slings and arrows from plenty of people from all around the political universe, but hear me out.

We all know that the divisions between Americans over the Supreme Court have grown increasingly poisonous since Mitch McConnell spent more than a year bottling up the nominations of hundreds of judges during the Presidency of Barack Obama, culminating with the blocking of the nomination of Merrick Garland as Associate Justice of the US Supreme Court. 

A solid majority of American citizens believe that we should wait until the next President is inaugurated before choosing a replacement for Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg. This is understandable. Despite the verbal gymnastics of McConnell, Lindsay Graham and other Senators who pledged to follow the “McConnell rule” established to prevent Merrick Garland from being seated. A majority of Americans are justifiably disturbed by the hypocrisy that has the Senate barrelling toward confirmation of Judge Barrett contrary to those promises. The American people are clearly moved by a sense of fairness and justice. They are clearly also concerned about what is likely to happen to the Affordable Care Act and the Roe Decision in the wake of a Barrett confirmation.

The Winter Warrior

If cooler heads don’t prevail, and right now that looks almost impossible, we are headed down the road toward all-out political warfare over the Supreme Court and the possibility that a generation, or more, of decisions made by the Court, will be made under a cloud of illegitimacy and suspicion.  

Sadly, just as Judge Garland was caught up in the political warfare of the 2016 election, so too is Judge Barrett in the 2020 election. Let’s face it, if Judges Garland or Barrett had been nominated in the more collegial days that Justice Ginsberg was (RBG was confirmed by a near-unanimous vote), both would have been confirmed without question. Unlike many of the nominees of Donald Trump - who have been panned by their peers as unfit - Both Judge Garland and Barrett have broad support from their peers of all political persuasions. Both are individuals of honor and integrity, both are hailed for their hard work, their understanding of the law and their ability to work with peers. 

We can’t go back to the days of civility easily and without some form of redress for the excesses of this partisan era. If we try, we will be caught in an ever-widening and increasingly vicious cycle of recrimination, reprisal, and its accompanying bending and breaking of democratic norms.

Without a game-changing idea we are doomed to suffer through perhaps decades of all-out political warfare over the Supreme Court, with each swing of the political pendulum initiating the abandonment of more and more of the norms and democratic guardrails that encourage comity and civility at the core of vigorous debate. 

We need to find our way back to a place where our shared American values take precedence over our differences. Where we see our opponents as the loyal opposition not the enemy. This was the example of Justice Ginsberg. It was also the example of her good friend on the court, Justice Scalia. Each stood strongly for their ideals. Each stood up to one another on the judicial “battlefield”; but each saw the humanity, integrity, and commitment to the rule of law in the other and drew first from that well of goodwill.  

I suggest that Joe Biden propose an American Unity slate for the Supreme Court. To be confirmed following the election by the next congress. Ideally, both Presidential candidates would commit to the idea but like JFK’s nuclear test ban challenge issued to the Soviets in the early 60s, Biden’s leadership can set the course of the debate.

In exchange for holding off on the appointment of Amy Coney Barrett until after the inauguration of the next president, Joe Biden should propose and pledge to honor the creation of a national unity slate for the Supreme Court, specifically intended to heal the divisions within the country and to balance the Supreme Court, to include Barrett, Garland and one Justice to be named by Biden from his own list of candidates. 

While this proposal - loosely inspired by an episode of “The West Wing” by Aaron Sorkin - would increase the size of the court by two justices, the National Unity benefits far outweigh the fears expressed about court-packing and do justice to both Judge Garland and Barrett. There is no reason why it should be seen as anything but an effort to correct the wrongs inflicted by the McConnell Senate and a forthright effort to restore balance to the court, without an all-out arms race - to continue the JFK metaphor.

 It is true that the court would still maintain a slightly conservative-leaning but Justice Robert’s has demonstrated that he cares more about the institution than ideology. His hero, Justice John Marshall, was - arguably - the greatest Chief Justice in American history and I have come to believe that Marshall’s example is an important touchstone for Roberts and presents the opportunity for Roberts to burnish his legacy as the Chief Justice who restored the Court’s standing. 

Through no fault of their own, the reputation of the Supreme Court has been tarnished in the last few years. Yet, faith in our highest court is of paramount importance in these times of maximum danger to the Republic. 

Restoring faith in the court and our judicial system is worthy of serious consideration - after all there is no constitutional provision that dictates the number of justices on the court and the reasoning behind a national unity slate is solid and presents legitimate arguments against a future expansion for purely political purposes. 

There is a runaway train speeding down the tracks of the American judicial system. A national unity slate may be the last chance to control it before we all end up tied to the rails.

About Wayne D. King: Wayne King is an author, artist, activist and recovering politician. A three-term State Senator, 1994 Democratic nominee for Governor; he is  the former publisher of Heart of New Hampshire Magazine and CEO of MOP Environmental Solutions Inc., and now a columnist for the New Hampshire Center for Public Interest Journalism (inDepthNH.org) where he writes “The View from Rattlesnake Ridge” and hosts two Podcasts: The Radical Centrist (www.theradicalcentrist.us) and NH Secrets, Legends and Lore (www.nhsecrets.blogspot.com). His art (www.waynedking.com) is exhibited nationally in galleries and he has published three books of his images and a novel "Sacred Trust"  a vicarious, high voltage adventure to stop a private powerline - all available on Amazon.com. His art website is: www.waynedking.com , and his writing site:  http://bit.ly/WayneDKing . He lives in Thornton, New Hampshire at the base of Welch Mountain where he proudly flies both the American and Iroquois Flags. 

Buffalo Dreams of an Old Abenaki

The Apples of the Asquamchumaukee Valley

Indian Sunset

Burlap in a Barn Door

Red Squirrel Chaos

Thunder Over the Mountains

Last Apples on a Hedgerow

Soft Light on Lupine Poster

Joe Biden’s Bobby Kennedy Moment . . . and Ours

 

Red Squirrel Chaos

The View from Rattlesnake Ridge

Joe Biden’s Bobby Kennedy Moment . . . and Ours
Lessons on Common Humanity from A Radical Centrist
Common Humanity Must Be Our Calling


"Whenever any American's life is taken by another American unnecessarily - whether it is done in the name of the law or in the defiance of law, by one man or a gang, in cold blood or in passion, in an attack of violence or in response to violence - whenever we tear at the fabric of life which another man has painfully and clumsily woven for himself and his children, the whole nation is degraded.”

~ Robert F. Kennedy


Sleep cycles in the midst of a pandemic can be pretty crazy things. I’ve always been an early riser but 

lately 4am is usually my new wake-up hour. At 5 I head out for a walk. 

Usually, I begin on the trails behind my home through white pine forest, meandering to the Welch Mountain trailhead before heading back along Orris Road. 

The early start has introduced me to a wholly new phenomenon - the Red Squirrel bombardment. 

Beginning in late July and continuing into September for 2 or 3 hours each morning - beginning at about 5am - the army of Red Squirrels who inhabit these woods are ensconced at the top of the forests canopy, freeing pine cones from the trees, resulting in a hail of debris. Then, almost as if by design, by 7 or 8 am the straffing has stopped completely and peace once again reigns. It makes walking through the woods at this time a bit of a challenge but something of an adventure as well. Picking my way through the woods as the pine cones rain down is something akin to trying to find my way through the flood of tweets and Facebook posts emails and Instagram posts that will greet me when I return to my studio with coffee in hand. 

Will I be able to navigate the digital forest without being clipped by flying debris or being dragged down into a rabbit hole of some wacky conspiracy? Is the storm of detritus in my inbox ever going to subside? How many times will candidate x, y or z cry wolf before I stop paying attention? 

Yet, like those Red Squirrels, I keep coming back. Because our survival as a nation depends on navigating the storm. 

Let me be clear about this - if I have not already been - I believe that Donald Trump has been a train wreck for our nation and our constitution. Four more years with him as President will likely permanently relegate the United States to second-rate nation status. Yet there is still a chance that he will be able to win by capturing the Electoral College or by “stealing” the election. Just as worrisome is the mischief he is likely to do even if he loses, and the possibility that he will foment violence. All of this has been further exacerbated by the result of the first presidential debate: his refusal to condemn white nationalists and his interruptions that made it impossible for Joe Biden to deliver a clear and concise response.

In the past months, the nation’s divisions over racial issues have been deepened by the President’s efforts to pit one American against another, supported unashamedly by his Attorney General. What began as a strongly supported series of protests around the murder of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and others, has morphed into a deep division driven by small contingents of violent individuals motivated not by a yearning for justice but by their own selfish and violent intentions; far outnumbered by the peaceful demonstrators, but still creating discomfort among Americans of all colors, races, and religions.

Joe Biden has handled the task of speaking out on racism and justice admirably, but there is more that he can do - both now and especially after the election - and each of us can play our part as well. 

Biden can begin by delivering a series of brief and cogent responses on the major issues where Donald Trump monopolized the moment and denied Biden the ability to clearly articulate his vision. In doing this he can also draw attention to the unhinged behavior of Donald Trump that made the debate a horrific experience for any thinking American.

I began this column intending to speak about one of this nation’s great Radical Centrists, Bobby Kennedy, and then the loss of John Lewis, followed closely by Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg seemed to call out for their inclusion as well, since I see them both in that same light. All of them drew inspiration from the great feminist and spiritual leader Rev Pauli Murray who said “when others try to exclude me, I draw my circles wider to include them.” While I focus on Bobby - he was, for me, the person who inspired my own deep thirst for a just world - I hope you will see the examples of John Lewis and Justice Ginsberg in both the pauses, the words and the spirit.

Why does it matter that I view them as “Radical Centrists”?
A Radical Centrist is not an individual who embraces the “mushy middle”. Rather, it is a man or a woman who believes in the healing power of civility and dialogue and is “radically” committed to a set of moral and ethical principles, superceeding ideology or party, that guide them throughout their lives. A commitment to radical inclusion, innovation, and progressive ideals. 

In June of 1968 Bobby Kennedy’s funeral train made its way from New York to Washington DC. All along the route Americans of every color, age, religion and social status lined the tracks to say goodbye. Likewise, this week we watched as more than 100 of Justice Ginsburg’s former clerks and Americans of all political viewpoints gathered to see her off. The outpouring of grief and gratitude from Americans as they celebrated the life of John Lewis speaks for itself.

On the night Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated Bobby Kennedy was scheduled to speak at a street gathering in Indianapolis - in what was then referred to as the “most dangerous neighborhood (read black) of the city. “ The Mayor and most of the city officials, even some of his own advisers - urged him to cancel his appearance. There was sure to be violence they said and they could not guarantee his safety. But Bobby was determined.

News traveled much slower in 1968. Most of those who would attend the event - at which Kennedy would speak from the back of a flatbed truck - had not yet heard about the assassination. RFK would be the bearer of devastating news. . . Never a good position for a political leader. 

He began his impromptu remarks saying that he would only speak for a few minutes - that he had sad news. 

When he announced the death of Dr. King an audible gasp rose from the crowd. He spoke without prepared remarks - from the heart. Paying tribute to the work of Dr. King and the things for which he had dedicated, and given, his life. His voice quavering, hesitant, soft, he expressed not only his empathy for the pain the crowd felt but the pain that was in his own heart.

“Martin Luther King dedicated his life to love and to justice for his fellow human beings, and he died because of that effort.

In this difficult day, in this difficult time for the United States, it is perhaps well to ask what kind of a nation we are and what direction we want to move in. For those of you who are black--considering that the evidence is that there were white people who were responsible--you can be filled with bitterness, with hatred, and a desire for revenge. We can move in that direction as a country, in great polarization--black people amongst black, white people amongst white, filled with hatred toward one another.

Or we can make an effort, as Martin Luther King did, to understand and to comprehend, and to replace that violence, that stain of bloodshed that has spread across our land, with an effort to understand with compassion and love.”

“What we need in the United States is not division; what we need in the United States is not hatred; what we need in the United States is not violence or lawlessness; but love and wisdom, and compassion toward one another, and a feeling of justice toward those who still suffer within our country, whether they be white or they be black.

So I shall ask you tonight to return home, to say a prayer for the family of Martin Luther King, that's true, but more importantly to say a prayer for our own country, which all of us love --a prayer for understanding and that compassion of which I spoke.

.. the vast majority of white people and the vast majority of black people in this country want to live together, want to improve the quality of our life, and want justice for all human beings who abide in our land.

Let us dedicate ourselves to what the Greeks wrote so many years ago: to tame the savageness of man and make gentle the life of this world.

Let us dedicate ourselves to that, and say a prayer for our country and for our people.”

That night, as cities burned all across America, Indianapolis was spared. Such is the power of words that heal and call us to a higher purpose.

On the day that followed, Bobby Kennedy kept only one speaking engagement- at the Cleveland City Club. In what historians consider to be one of the most powerful speeches in American history, He spoke only 10 minutes but his words echo down through the years to remind us of the common humanity we share and the path we must find to build a future together.

Cleveland Club Speech

“It is not the concern of any one race. The victims of the violence are black and white, rich and poor, young and old, famous and unknown. They are, most important of all, human beings whom other human beings loved and needed. No one - no matter where he lives or what he does - can be certain who will suffer from some senseless act of bloodshed. And yet it goes on and on.

Why? What has violence ever accomplished? What has it ever created? No martyr's cause has ever been stilled by his assassin's bullet.

No wrongs have ever been righted by riots and civil disorders. A sniper is only a coward, not a hero; and an uncontrolled, uncontrollable mob is only the voice of madness, not the voice of the people.

Whenever any American's life is taken by another American unnecessarily - whether it is done in the name of the law or in the defiance of law, by one man or a gang, in cold blood or in passion, in an attack of violence or in response to violence - whenever we tear at the fabric of life which another man has painfully and clumsily woven for himself and his children, the whole nation is degraded.”

“For there is another kind of violence, slower but just as deadly, destructive as the shot or the bomb in the night. This is the violence of institutions; indifference and inaction and slow decay. This is the violence that afflicts the poor, that poisons relations between men because their skin has different colors. This is a slow destruction of a child by hunger, and schools without books and homes without heat in the winter.

This is the breaking of a man's spirit by denying him the chance to stand as a father and as a man among other men. And this too afflicts us all. I have not come here to propose a set of specific remedies nor is there a single set. For a broad and adequate outline we know what must be done. When you teach a man to hate and fear his brother, when you teach that he is a lesser man because of his color or his beliefs or the policies he pursues, when you teach that those who differ from you threaten your freedom or your job or your family, then you also learn to confront others not as fellow citizens but as enemies - to be met not with cooperation but with conquest, to be subjugated and mastered.

We learn, at the last, to look at our brothers as aliens, men with whom we share a city, but not a community, men bound to us in common dwelling, but not in common effort. We learn to share only a common fear - only a common desire to retreat from each other - only a common impulse to meet disagreement with force. For all this there are no final answers.

Yet we know what we must do. It is to achieve true justice among our fellow citizens. The question is not what programs we should seek to enact. The question is whether we can find in our own midst and in our own hearts that leadership of humane purpose that will recognize the terrible truths of our existence.

We must admit the vanity of our false distinctions among men and learn to find our own advancement in the search for the advancement of all. We must admit in ourselves that our own children's future cannot be built on the misfortunes of others. We must recognize that this short life can neither be ennobled or enriched by hatred or revenge.”

As I have said before . . . “a storm is coming”. I hope that all of us will embrace our common humanity as we face it.



Links


Kennedy Library Archives - Robert Kennedy Speeches

https://www.jfklibrary.org/learn/about-jfk/the-kennedy-family/robert-f-kennedy/robert-f-kennedy-speeches

Robert F. Kennedy's speech on the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr.

https://www.jfklibrary.org/learn/about-jfk/the-kennedy-family/robert-f-kennedy/robert-f-kennedy-speeches/statement-on-assassination-of-martin-luther-king-jr-indianapolis-indiana-april-4-1968



On the Mindless Menace of Violence - Remarks to the Cleveland City Club

https://www.jfklibrary.org/learn/about-jfk/the-kennedy-family/robert-f-kennedy/robert-f-kennedy-speeches/remarks-to-the-cleveland-city-club-april-5-1968


Rev. Pauli Murray

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pauli_Murray

About Wayne D. King: Wayne King is an author, artist, activist and recovering politician. A three-term State Senator, 1994 Democratic nominee for Governor, now a registered Independent; he is  the former publisher of Heart of New Hampshire Magazine and CEO of MOP Environmental Solutions Inc., and now the host of two Podcasts - The Radical Centrist (www.theradicalcentrist.us) and NH Secrets, Legends and Lore (www.nhsecrets.blogspot.com). His art (www.waynedking.com) is exhibited nationally in galleries and he has published three books of his images and a novel "Sacred Trust"  a vicarious, high voltage adventure to stop a private powerline all available on Amazon.com. He now lives in Thornton, New Hampshire at the base of Welch Mountain where he proudly flies both the American and Iroquois Flags. His website is: http://bit.ly/WayneDKing . You can help spread the word by following and supporting him at www.Patreon.com/TheRadicalCentrist .

Thunder Over the Mountains

PoplarWind

The Winter Warrior

Drumbeats from My Father

Indian Sunset

“The soul would have no rainbow if the eyes had no tears.” — MINQUASS PROVERB

My father was a simple man.

Born in Medford, Oregon on a Depression-era “side trip” from Bartlett, New Hampshire. 

A few years before he was born, his father had managed to land a job there after the Boston and Maine Railroad’s ridership dried up and precipitated a similar decline in jobs for their employees. The King and George families had piled brothers, sisters, cousins, mothers and fathers into two old Woodies, Beverly Hillbilly style - beds, bureaus and all - headed for hope and higher ground. 

Along the way my Aunt Nancy was born in the back seat - somewhere in Kansas - after my grandmother Charlotte had brought on her own labor by operating the hand crank on the car with my grandfather Fred at the wheel.  

Dad was born a few years later, in his family’s modest home, in the depths of the Depression. 

Eventually, even as the country endured depression, war and deprivation, the family managed to leapfrog its way back east. Their northstar: New Hampshire. There was a brief time in Taunton, Massachusetts where dad and the Kings lived in a house next door to an elementary school teacher, Bernice Dixon, with eight girls - one of whom he would later court and marry. Though he was barely a teenager then.

After finally making the last quantum leap, returning to Bartlett and then graduating from Bartlett Combined School, he went to UNH. 

His one year at UNH was an eventful one. His father died unexpectedly in the spring and dad “jumped a freight train” back to Bartlett to be with his mother.  

He never returned to UNH, instead he joined the Navy, assigned to the USS Fiske during the Korean “conflict”.  The Fiske was a destroyer that provided protection for larger ships and the years in the navy were, from his perspective, largely uneventful except for being arrested on liberty and spending a night in jail because he got into a fight when a bar in California tried to prevent his shipmate - who happened to be black - from joining them for a drink. 

In my earlier years of life he was a Barber, first in Gorham, then Conway, Laconia and Plymouth while my mom was a nurse in various hospitals in those same towns. 

In 1962 my mother started a real estate business in Campton and within a few years dad had gotten his own license and joined her. But Dad was a story-teller, and a Barber, he liked the real estate business but missed the camaraderie of the barbershop. By the end of his first year he had built a little shop in the back of the real estate office and local folks would pop in for a shave, a haircut, good conversation, and occasionally a tip or a listing.

My UNH college friends, Kip Bates, Christopher Polydoroff, Michelle Boucher, Bobbie Boudreau, Edward Acker, and others, used to love coming north for the weekend to hang out around the dining table at our home. They lovingly referred to my Dad as “Jolly Roger”. He would laugh and tell stories that kept everyone entertained. Hanging with him was better than a night partying anywhere. 

Despite his sense of humor, my dad was not a very emotive fellow. In my entire life I only saw or heard my dad cry three times. 

The first time, around 1960, our very young family had moved to Tempe, Arizona. We were living in a small apartment and late one night I overheard my father sobbing as he told my mom that he could not find work. His barbers license was not transferable without two years of “training” despite the fact he had been cutting hair for years in New Hampshire. Within a few days the entire family was back on the road to NH. My mother was the hero of that story. She stood by her man, held his heart ever so gently in her hands and, I suppose, remembered that he had helped her hide her pregnancy from the administrators at Bridgewater State Nursing School when that would have meant termination of her own career. So, despite the fact that she already had a good job as a nurse in Tempe we headed back to the Granite State. 

The second time was also late at night only a few years later. My father and mother had been reasonably successful in the new real estate venture and had bought an old farm from a retired Pinkerton Detective - believe it or not, named MacDonald. Two weeks after beginning a remodeling job on the place the entire first floor of the house collapsed into the crawlspace below, just days before we were to move into “Old MacDonald’s Farm”. We ended up in a cramped little one room cabin - more of a shack really- on the property. They built a triple decker bunk into a 6’x5’ tool shed/closet - converted for my sisters and I.  Each of us had one drawer for our stuff built below the beds. Mom and dad slept on a pull-out sofa in the Kitchen/Livingroom. It wasn’t so bad for the first month or so, but when the job of fixing the house dragged on into the winter months it was stressful both emotionally and financially. . . and cold because in their rush to put a roof over our heads they had been unable to insulate the place.  One night after mom and dad figured we were all asleep they had a heated and emotion filled discussion about their marriage. My dad cried when he thought he might lose her as his 11 year old son listened silently from the top bunk in the dark.

The final time, and the only time when I actually witnessed his tears, came just a few years before he died. I was visiting my parents and had been trying to learn to play a song by Elton John called “Indian Sunset” on the guitar. My father walked into the room and sat down quietly. He had been listening and he said he had something very important to tell me. He had known for most of my life of my interest in social justice and could not help but notice my interest in Native American culture and the struggles of indigeneous people.  He wanted me to know that his father, who had died before I was born, had been the son of an Iroquois Father and an Abenaki mother, thrown together in life at an orphanage in Quebec. Both full blooded from their respective nations. Their story is another saga entirely and will have to be told separately.

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he told me that he had promised his father to keep this secret to protect his family from the racism so prevalent at the time, but he realized now that he needed to tell me. To tear down the veil of silence that had existed for all those years. 

More than twenty-five years since that day I find myself, still, trying to understand it all. I find great comfort in the spiritual beliefs of my ancestors, they saved me after I lost Alice two years ago.  I take great pride in my heritage and try to impart its importance to my son and my nephews and nieces. 

Yet, somehow, I know that it is not completely mine. I have not had to bear the weight of what my Cheyenne brother Jim calls “our pain” because I was shielded from it. Shielded by the generational pain borne by my father, my grandfather, my great-grandfather and great-grandmother. 

Even though there has always been a place in my heart that sensed my connection to my heritage I have - nonetheless - lived a life one-half step, or more, removed from the pain of my brothers and sisters of native descent.  It makes me question my right to speak at all in light of the relative harm I have endured. Yet the confluence of recent events compels me to take the risk nonetheless.

The Pandemic we all face has laid bare a myriad of failings and challenges we face as a nation and as a world. There is so much death and sadness and every day we grieve for the families who have endured the tragedy of lost loved ones. So, too, we grieve the loss of simple human contact, everyday expressions of love, passion, lust, friendship and camaraderie. 

In the days and weeks that have passed since the killing of George Floyd the protests across the nation and the world have signaled an awakening, a soul-searching, perhaps even a reckoning. When talk has turned to police violence or reparations, I have been torn between my support for Black Lives Matter, my lifelong personal  commitment to racial equality and the power of this moment, and the desire to remind people that the first slaves of the new world were indigenous people and that Native people are killed by overzealous or racist police at least as much as any other people.  The impacts of the pandemic are so profound among Indian nations that word is barely even able to get out from reservations roiling with the virus. Pandemics are not new to Native people. My Great-grandmother’s people were nearly obliterated by one introduced by Lord Jeffrey Amherst when he sent wagons of smallpox infected blankets to the Abenaki village of Saint Francis. Intended to “extirpate the savages”.  Today one of the nation’s most prestigious colleges bears his name. . . 

But arguing over relative harm only divides us at a time when unity is the one best weapon we have.

The Lakota (Sioux) have an old legend that holds that we are now entering a time of the Eagle and the Condor -  when the wings of these two great symbols will call all people to come together as brothers and sisters to save the earth and the human race. Other Indian nations have similar stories as well.

Congressman John Lewis, the conscience of our nation in so many ways, said something similar only a few months before his death last week:

I believe race is too heavy a burden to carry into the 21st century. It's time to lay it down. We all came here in different ships, but now we're all in the same boat. ~ John Lewis

There are many challenges that face us ahead and there will undoubtedly be lengthy and ongoing debate over the solutions. This is in keeping with our most cherished traditions. We must not fear vigorous debate but we must listen to one another - and seek the place of healing. With few exceptions we have all been the victims in this story. . . But If the determination of the people in our streets demanding a more just society  - people of every color and station in life - show us anything - we have also been the beneficiaries.  It is still the greatest story ever told. The one story where even men with feet of clay for a brief shining moment glimpsed a world beyond what any humans had imagined before and committed a young nation to making that journey.

As a start, we could continue that great journey by instituting a basic income as a means of tackling the most pressing of our challenges, the economic fallout from the pandemic, reparations and the savage inequality of wealth in our nation. Give every American the real opportunity to exercise the power of their purse. To defund and refund - to rebuild their communities from the ground up on their own terms - neighborhood by neighborhood, city by city, town by town, state by state.

If you have read my previous appeals for a Universal Basic Income - an American Dividend- you have heard me say before that it is reparations for every American, irrespective of race, creed or national origin, who has borne the pain of a nation still struggling, yet still committed, to forming that more perfect union. 

We are still far from that day yet, but I believe more fervently than ever we are the last best hope for making it so. 

About Wayne D. King: Wayne King is an author, artist, activist and recovering politician. A three-term State Senator, 1994 Democratic nominee for Governor, now a registered Independent; he is  the former publisher of Heart of New Hampshire Magazine and CEO of MOP Environmental Solutions Inc., and now the host of two Podcasts - The Radical Centrist (www.theradicalcentrist.us) and NH Secrets, Legends and Lore (www.nhsecrets.blogspot.com). His art (www.waynedking.com) is exhibited nationally in galleries and he has published three books of his images and a novel "Sacred Trust"  a vicarious, high voltage adventure to stop a private powerline all available on Amazon.com. He now lives in Thornton, New Hampshire at the base of Welch Mountain where he proudly flies both the American and Iroquois Flags. His website is: http://bit.ly/WayneDKing . You can help spread the word by following and supporting him at www.Patreon.com/TheRadicalCentrist .

Aspenglow on the Roaring Fork River

Umbrellas in a Museum

Storm Over Half Dome, Yosemite National Park

Esheheman's Breath

Roaring Back Economically - Now is the Time for a Basic Income and National Healthcare

American Spirit

The View From Rattlesnake Ridge
Ruminations from an Unabashed Optimist, an Environmental Patriot and a Radical Centrist


Roaring Back Economically
Now is the Time for a Basic Income and National Healthcare


In this age of Covid-19, I am unable to experience the day to day joys of sharing time with neighbors and measuring their sentiments, hearing their stories, and drawing on them for life lessons. There will come a time, again, when we will be able to do this, and again I will return to my perambulations among neighbors in search of their stories and sensibilities for this column.

For now, my walks and rambles are solitary. I am alone with only my thoughts, the sounds of the brook, the wind, the pileated woodpeckers hammering at the trees, the red squirrels chattering at me. Some days my thoughts are small and parochial. Some days they range like a mountain lion, covering ground like a river tracing its tributaries high into the rocky precipices.

Lately, most of those thoughts have focused on the tragedy confronting our beloved American family. Today, my mind wandered to my other family, a proud part of the American family but also distinctive in its own way.

My Grandfather’s people, and by birthright mine, the Haudenausanee - also known as the Iroquois - in the early years of the republic would range well down into the Rattlesnake Ridge area from time to time, sometimes in search of game and other times empire. For 500 years before the birth of the United States, the Iroquois people nurtured and sustained the first and only democratic republican form of government. Long before the birth of Jefferson and Adams, even before John Locke from whom Adams and Jefferson drew inspiration, the Iroquois were gathering to make decisions collectively and democratically. There is evidence that Ben Franklin looked to the Iroquois confederacy as he helped craft the US Constitution.

Esheheman's Breath

One of the most striking aspects of the Iroquois Confederacy’s democratic deliberations is that they were required to consider the effect of their actions, not just in terms of their immediate needs, but in light of the effect on the next 7 generations before arriving at a decision. So today I am doing just that in my rambling ruminations.

This pandemic has laid bare many of the weaknesses in our democracy and our economy. A significant portion of the economic tragedy has its roots in an economy that for 50 years - since the early 1970s - has slowly drained wealth from the middle class, the working class and the poor. Only a year ago a report from the Federal Reserve found that 40% of Americans would be unable to cover a $400 emergency with cash, savings, or a credit card. This growing disparity of wealth had already begun to blossom into a crisis before we were struck with the Covid-19 crisis affecting every aspect of American lives.

The existential crisis of Climate Change has faded from the light of public discourse, eclipsed by an even more immediate crisis. But, like the Covid-19 Pandemic, Climate Change is a science-based crisis and if there is one thing that we have all learned - with the possible exception of the Trump administration - science-based challenges don’t respond to lies, bullying, and spin. Eventually, they will bite you.

The marginalization of communities of color has come into full public view as the numbers of cases and deaths among black, brown, and Indian communities dramatically outpace even the high numbers among the general population.

These and other challenges are mixed in the rich stew of partisanship and culture wars, cooked up by Newt Gingrich in 1994 and today boiling vigorously as Donald Trump turns up the heat in anticipation of the coming election. One need only count the number of times the President uses the words “I” and “me” when he addresses the nation or the media, and how little he uses the word “we”. His lack of empathy for the 80,000 plus Americans who have lost their lives is shocking and disheartening, but not surprising.

Secrets of the Patriot

The good news is that American’s have come together as we always do in a real crisis. There are signs that the efforts of a small vocal minority supported by the President are causing even that rare unity to fray but polling shows that most people have taken their lives and their safety into their own (well-washed) hands and have stopped listening to the President and turned their attention to those who will tell them the truth.

Even Congress has demonstrated a willingness to push partisanship aside in the best interests of the American people. Let’s hope they continue to do so because the challenges ahead are going to require that they continue to step up and that the sacred cows of both the Republicans and the Democrats will be put to the test and found wanting.

This Pandemic raging around us has created the perfect storm for many Americans - a catastrophic convergence of forces over which we have almost no control.

Since the beginning of this pandemic, it is estimated that 27 million Americans have already lost their health care insurance and that number may rise to 45 million before the worst is over. Despite this, the Trump administration refuses to reopen enrollment in the ACA, otherwise referred to as “Obama Care”. Congress should immediately reopen the ACA enrollment. Furthermore, they should do something they have stopped doing for a long time - taking a page from the Iroquois Confederacy and looking for solutions that consider the next 7 generations of Americans. Americans deserve a national healthcare plan that covers every single American.

Over the course of the last few years I have made the case for an American Dividend, more commonly referred to as a Universal Basic Income based on the presumption that Americans have contributed to the wealth of the nation through their sacrifices, their labor, and their taxes - but have never been included as shareholders in the economic miracle. I won’t reiterate all of the arguments for a UBI here, but you can read previous columns about it and there are a lot of people of all political persuasions who are now talking about it and writing about it. What I will do is try - in a few paragraphs - to make the case for doing it NOW - even as a temporary measure - as the most effective way to drive our economy forward and find our way out of this pandemic while respecting and protecting one another.

As impatience grows for restarting our economy and for resuming some semblance of normalcy in our day-to-day lives we will continue to experience the push and pull between economic needs and health and safety needs. While we must let the science and data drive our decisions in order to minimize the rate of new infections and deaths, we clearly must begin making efforts where possible to reopen the economy and return to life in a new normal. However, the challenge we face is one at the confluence of science, psychology, and economics, presenting a significant challenge and the need for our leaders, and each of us, to exercise judgment. Even as our Governors and policymakers begin this process, carefully laying out rules regarding testing, tracing and isolation, social distancing, and other safety measures, many folks will not be comfortable resuming “normal” life without confidence that we have flattened the curve sufficiently to make venturing out safe. Furthermore, rebounding economically, especially for our small businesses, will be profoundly challenging at 25% or even 50% of their previous capacity. We need to find a way to harness the economic power of both those who are ready to venture out and those who are not. Here’s where a basic income for every American can drive a robust resurgence.

Amazon founder and CEO Jeff Bezos makes $6.54 billion dollars per month. If he dines at the most expensive restaurant in America, “Per Se” Restaurant in New York City, it will cost him $685.00. In his home state of Washington, “the Herbfarm Restaurant”, located on the outskirts of Seattle will cost you a more affordable $285. But Jeff Bezos can only eat ONE dinner.

One month of Jeff Bezos income would cover a $2,000 basic income for three million two hundred seventy thousand Americans, roughly 1% of the entire population; men, women and children; roughly 2% of American households.

So here’s a simple question: What is going to have a greater impact on the US economy: a month of dinners for Jeff Bezos (at $8,550) or 10 million dinners purchased by American families from local grocery stores and restaurants? Which of these is more likely to help save small businesses on Main street?

Stinson Brook Camus Poster

Now I’m not picking on Jeff Bezos, whom I admire immensely, but last year any one single American paid more in taxes than Amazon, which paid no taxes because of a tax code heavily skewed to the wealthy in our nation.

Businesses don’t create jobs, CONSUMERS create jobs through demand and businesses respond by hiring labor sufficient to meet the demand. It’s simple economics.

Put a basic income of $2,000 per month in the pockets of every American for the remainder of the year and it will cost half of what any of the previous 3 “relief” packages have cost and you can bet that - whether they are sheltering in place or out and about - Americans will drive the economy and support their local businesses. With real disposable income, the free market will determine how that income is used and most of the businesses we know and love in our communities all over America will find a way through this crisis. Furthermore, you will see a flurry of new entrepreneurial activity as Americans find new ways to create jobs and generate income using some of that disposable income to launch startups. In addition to this the President, The Speaker of the House, and the Majority Leader of the Senate, should appoint a blue-ribbon task force to look at ways to fund a basic income permanently.

None of this should be construed to ignore the need for an aggressive, nationally-directed system of testing, tracing, and isolating. If we had a national service requirement, that most Americans - from all parts of the political spectrum - support, we would be able to activate that network of millions of Americans to do the testing and contact tracing. As it stands the use of Americorp and Peace Corps volunteers could be activated immediately to fill much of the need. If we do not aggressively develop such a system quickly, few of us will feel comfortable about emerging into a world where a simple, and desperately needed, embrace can end in tragedy.

Americans of all political persuasions have set aside their differences in this pandemic and we can hear the faint but growing sound of the American song rising from their efforts, as they cheer for our frontline heroes, as they check on elderly neighbors and greet one another walking in the park or on the trail, even in acts as simple as paying for the coffee of the next car in line at the Dunkin Donuts drive-through.

Keep singing. Don’t let tribalism and partisanship derail what could be the great American renaissance after we beat back Covid-19. Dream 7 generations ahead.


Wayne King is an author, artist, activist and recovering politician. A three-term State Senator, he was the 1994 Democratic nominee for Governor and most recently the CEO of MOP Environmental Solutions Inc., a public company in the environmental cleanup space. His art is exhibited nationally in galleries and he has published three books of his images with another, "New Hampshire - a Love Story", on the way. His most recent novel "Sacred Trust" a vicarious, high voltage adventure to stop a private powerline is available on Amazon.com. He lives in Thornton, between Rattlesnake Ridge and the Waterville Range. He proudly flies both the American and Iroquois Flags. His website is: http://bit.ly/WayneDKing
UBI, Basic Income, American Dividend, Roaring back, recovery, Pandemic, Covid-19, truth, testing, healthcare, insurance, national service