Wednesday, May 13, 2020


Naomi Klein: How big tech plans to profit from the pandemic 


Eric Schmidt, Google’s former executive chair, left, with the New York governor Andrew Cuomo. Photograph: Getty

As the coronavirus continues to kill thousands each day, tech companies are seizing the opportunity to extend their reach and power. By Naomi Klein
Republished with permission from The Intercept

THE GUARDIAN
Wed 13 May 2020

For a few fleeting moments during the New York governor Andrew Cuomo’s daily coronavirus briefing on Wednesday 6 May, the sombre grimace that has filled our screens for weeks was briefly replaced by something resembling a smile.

“We are ready, we’re all-in,” the governor gushed. “We are New Yorkers, so we’re aggressive about it, we’re ambitious about it … We realise that change is not only imminent, but it can actually be a friend if done the right way.”

The inspiration for these uncharacteristically good vibes was a video visit from the former Google CEO Eric Schmidt, who joined the governor’s briefing to announce that he will be heading up a panel to reimagine New York state’s post-Covid reality, with an emphasis on permanently integrating technology into every aspect of civic life.


“The first priorities of what we’re trying to do,” Schmidt said, “are focused on telehealth, remote learning, and broadband … We need to look for solutions that can be presented now, and accelerated, and use technology to make things better.” Lest there be any doubt that the former Google chair’s goals were purely benevolent, his video background featured a framed pair of golden angel wings.

Just one day earlier, Cuomo had announced a similar partnership with the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation to develop “a smarter education system”. Calling Gates a “visionary”, Cuomo said the pandemic has created “a moment in history when we can actually incorporate and advance [Gates’s] ideas … all these buildings, all these physical classrooms – why, with all the technology you have?” he asked, apparently rhetorically.

It has taken some time to gel, but something resembling a coherent pandemic shock doctrine is beginning to emerge. Call it the Screen New Deal. Far more hi-tech than anything we have seen during previous disasters, the future that is being rushed into being as the bodies still pile up treats our past weeks of physical isolation not as a painful necessity to save lives, but as a living laboratory for a permanent – and highly profitable – no-touch future.

Anuja Sonalker, the CEO of Steer Tech, a Maryland-based company selling self-parking technology, recently summed up the new virus-personalised pitch. “There has been a distinct warming up to humanless, contactless technology,” she said. “Humans are biohazards, machines are not.”

It’s a future in which our homes are never again exclusively personal spaces, but are also, via high-speed digital connectivity, our schools, our doctor’s offices, our gyms, and, if determined by the state, our jails. Of course, for many of us, those same homes were already turning into our never-off workplaces and our primary entertainment venues before the pandemic, and surveillance incarceration “in the community” was already booming. But in the future that is hastily being constructed, all of these trends are poised for a warp-speed acceleration.

This is a future in which, for the privileged, almost everything is home delivered, either virtually via streaming and cloud technology, or physically via driverless vehicle or drone, then screen “shared” on a mediated platform. It’s a future that employs far fewer teachers, doctors and drivers. It accepts no cash or credit cards (under guise of virus control), and has skeletal mass transit and far less live art. It’s a future that claims to be run on “artificial intelligence”, but is actually held together by tens of millions of anonymous workers tucked away in warehouses, data centres, content-moderation mills, electronic sweatshops, lithium mines, industrial farms, meat-processing plants and prisons, where they are left unprotected from disease and hyper-exploitation. It’s a future in which our every move, our every word, our every relationship is trackable, traceable and data-mineable by unprecedented collaborations between government and tech giants.
 
Eric Schmidt, via video call, joins the media briefing given by the New York governor Andrew Cuomo on 6 May 2020. Photograph: Lev Radin/Pacific Press/Rex/Shutterstock

If all of this sounds familiar, it’s because, pre-Covid, this precise app-driven, gig-fuelled future was being sold to us in the name of friction-free convenience and personalisation. But many of us had concerns. About the security, quality and inequity of telehealth and online classrooms. About driverless cars mowing down pedestrians and drones smashing packages (and people). About location tracking and cash-free commerce obliterating our privacy and entrenching racial and gender discrimination. About unscrupulous social media platforms poisoning our information ecology and our kids’ mental health. About “smart cities” filled with sensors supplanting local government. About the good jobs these technologies wiped out. About the bad jobs they mass produced.

And most of all, we had concerns about the democracy-threatening wealth and power accumulated by a handful of tech companies that are masters of abdication – eschewing all responsibility for the wreckage left behind in the fields they now dominate, whether media, retail or transportation.

That was the ancient past, also known as February. Today, a great many of those well-founded concerns are being swept away by a tidal wave of panic, and this warmed-over dystopia is going through a rush-job rebranding. Now, against a harrowing backdrop of mass death, it is being sold to us on the dubious promise that these technologies are the only possible way to pandemic-proof our lives, the indispensable keys to keeping ourselves and our loved ones safe.

Thanks to Cuomo and his various billionaire partnerships (including one with Michael Bloomberg for testing and tracing), New York state is being positioned as the gleaming showroom for this grim future – but the ambitions reach far beyond the borders of any one state or country.

And at the dead centre of it all is Eric Schmidt.

Well before Americans understood the threat of Covid-19, Schmidt had been on an aggressive lobbying and public-relations campaign, pushing precisely the Black Mirror vision of society that Cuomo has just empowered him to build. At the heart of this vision is seamless integration of government with a handful of Silicon Valley giants – with public schools, hospitals, doctor’s offices, police and military all outsourcing (at a high cost) many of their core functions to private tech companies.

It’s a vision Schmidt has been advancing in his roles as chair of the Defense Innovation Board, which advises the US Department of Defense on increased use of artificial intelligence in the military, and as chair of the powerful National Security Commission on Artificial Intelligence, or NSCAI, which advises Congress on “advances in artificial intelligence, related machine learning developments and associated technologies”, with the goal of addressing “the national and economic security needs of the United States, including economic risk”. Both boards are crowded with powerful Silicon Valley CEOs and top executives from companies including Oracle, Amazon, Microsoft, Facebook and of course, Schmidt’s former colleagues at Google.

As chair, Schmidt – who still holds more than $5.3bn in shares of Alphabet (Google’s parent company), as well as large investments in other tech firms – has essentially been running a Washington-based shakedown on behalf of Silicon Valley. The main purpose of the two boards is to call for exponential increases in government spending on research into artificial intelligence and on tech-enabling infrastructure such as 5G – investments that would directly benefit the companies in which Schmidt and other members of these boards have extensive holdings.

First in closed-door presentations to lawmakers, and later in public-facing opinion articles and interviews, the thrust of Schmidt’s argument has been that since the Chinese government is willing to spend limitless public money building the infrastructure of high-tech surveillance, while allowing Chinese tech companies such as Alibaba, Baidu and Huawei to pocket the profits from commercial applications, the US’s dominant position in the global economy is on the precipice of collapsing.

The Electronic Privacy Information Center (Epic) recently got access, through a freedom of information (FOI) request, to a presentation made by Schmidt’s NSCAI in May 2019. Its slides make a series of alarmist claims about how China’s relatively lax regulatory infrastructure and its bottomless appetite for surveillance are causing it to pull ahead of the US in a number of fields, including “AI for medical diagnosis”, autonomous vehicles, digital infrastructure, “smart cities”, ride-sharing and cashless commerce.

The reasons given for China’s competitive edge are myriad, ranging from the sheer volume of consumers who shop online; “the lack of legacy banking systems in China”, which has allowed it to leapfrog over cash and credit cards and unleash “a huge e-commerce and digital services market” using digital payments; and a severe doctor shortage, which has led the government to work closely with tech companies such as Tencent to use AI for “predictive” medicine. The slides note that in China, tech companies “have the authority to quickly clear regulatory barriers, while American initiatives are mired in HIPPA compliance and FDA approval”.

A slide from the Chinese Tech Landscape Overview (NSCAI presentation) discussing surveillance. Photograph: NSCAI
More than any other factor, however, the NSCAI points to China’s willingness to embrace public-private partnerships in mass surveillance and data collection as a reason for its competitive edge. The presentation touts China’s “Explicit government support and involvement eg facial recognition deployment”. It argues that “surveillance is one of the ‘first-and-best customers’ for Al” and further, that “mass surveillance is a killer application for deep learning”.

A slide titled “State Datasets: Surveillance = Smart Cities” notes that China, along with Google’s main Chinese competitor, Alibaba, are racing ahead.
A slide from the Chinese Tech Landscape Overview (NSCAI presentation) discussing surveillance. Photograph: NSCAI

This is notable because Google’s parent company, Alphabet, has been pushing this precise vision through its Sidewalk Labs division, choosing a large portion of Toronto’s waterfront as its “smart city” prototype. But the Toronto project was just shut down after two years of ceaseless controversy relating to the enormous amounts of personal data that Alphabet would collect, a lack of privacy protections, and questionable benefits for the city as a whole.

Five months after this presentation, in November, NSCAI issued an interim report to Congress further raising the alarm about the need for the US to match China’s adaptation of these controversial technologies. “We are in a strategic competition,” states the report, obtained via FOI by Epic. “AI will be at the centre. The future of our national security and economy are at stake.”
 
Sidewalk Labs, an Alphabet affiliate, planned to build a neighbourhood ‘from the internet up’ on Toronto’s lakefront. But the project has been shut down after two years of controversy Photograph: AFP via Getty

By late February, Schmidt was taking his campaign to the public, perhaps understanding that the budget increases his board was calling for could not be approved without a great deal more buy-in. In a New York Times article headlined “I used to Run Google. Silicon Valley Could Lose to China”, Schmidt called for “unprecedented partnerships between government and industry” and, once again sounding the yellow peril alarm, wrote:

“AI will open new frontiers in everything from biotechnology to banking, and it is also a defense department priority … If current trends continue, China’s overall investments in research and development are expected to surpass those of the United States within 10 years, around the same time its economy is projected to become larger than ours.

Unless these trends change, in the 2030s we will be competing with a country that has a bigger economy, more research and development investments, better research, wider deployment of new technologies and stronger computing infrastructure … Ultimately, the Chinese are competing to become the world’s leading innovators, and the United States is not playing to win.”

The only solution, for Schmidt, was a gush of public money. Praising the White House for requesting a doubling of research funding in AI and quantum information science, he wrote: “We should plan to double funding in those fields again as we build institutional capacity in labs and research centres … At the same time, Congress should meet the president’s request for the highest level of defence R & D funding in over 70 years, and the defense department should capitalise on that resource surge to build breakthrough capabilities in AI, quantum, hypersonics and other priority technology areas.”

That was exactly two weeks before the coronavirus outbreak was declared a pandemic, and there was no mention that a goal of this vast, hi-tech expansion was to protect American health. Only that it was necessary to avoid being outcompeted by China. But, of course, that would soon change.

In the two months since, Schmidt has put these pre-existing demands – for massive public expenditures on high-tech research and infrastructure, for a slew of “public-private partnerships” in AI, and for the loosening of myriad privacy and safety protections – through an aggressive rebranding exercise. Now all of these measures (and more) are being sold to the public as our only possible hope of protecting ourselves from a novel virus that will be with us for years to come.

And the tech companies to which Schmidt has deep ties, and which populate the influential advisory boards he chairs, have all repositioned themselves as benevolent protectors of public health and munificent champions of “everyday hero” essential workers (many of whom, like delivery drivers, would lose their jobs if these companies get their way). Less than two weeks into New York state’s lockdown, Schmidt wrote an article for the Wall Street Journal that both set the new tone and made clear that Silicon Valley had every intention of leveraging the crisis for a permanent transformation.

“Like other Americans, technologists are trying to do their part to support the front-line pandemic response …

But every American should be asking where we want the nation to be when the Covid-19 pandemic is over. How could the emerging technologies being deployed in the current crisis propel us into a better future? … Companies like Amazon know how to supply and distribute efficiently. They will need to provide services and advice to government officials who lack the computing systems and expertise.

We should also accelerate the trend toward remote learning, which is being tested today as never before. Online, there is no requirement of proximity, which allows students to get instruction from the best teachers, no matter what school district they reside in …

The need for fast, large-scale experimentation will also accelerate the biotech revolution … Finally, the country is long overdue for a real digital infrastructure … If we are to build a future economy and education system based on tele-everything, we need a fully connected population and ultrafast infrastructure. The government must make a massive investment – perhaps as part of a stimulus package – to convert the nation’s digital infrastructure to cloud-based platforms and link them with a 5G network.”

Indeed, Schmidt has been relentless in pursuing this vision. Two weeks after that article appeared, he described the ad-hoc home schooling programming that teachers and families across the country had been forced to cobble together during this public health emergency as “a massive experiment in remote learning”.

The goal of this experiment, he said, was “trying to find out: how do kids learn remotely? And with that data we should be able to build better remote and distance learning tools which, when combined with the teacher … will help kids learn better.” During this same video call, hosted by the Economic Club of New York, Schmidt also called for more telehealth, more 5G, more digital commerce and the rest of the preexisting wish list. All in the name of fighting the virus.

His most telling comment, however, was this: “The benefit of these corporations, which we love to malign, in terms of the ability to communicate, the ability to deal with health, the ability to get information, is profound. Think about what your life would be like in America without Amazon.” He added that people should “be a little bit grateful that these companies got the capital, did the investment, built the tools that we’re using now, and have really helped us out”.

Schmidt’s words are a reminder that until very recently, public pushback against these companies was surging. Presidential candidates were openly discussing breaking up big tech. Amazon was forced to pull its plans for a New York headquarters because of fierce local opposition. Google’s Sidewalk Labs project was in perennial crisis, and Google workers were refusing to build surveillance tech with military applications.

In short, democracy – inconvenient public engagement in the designing of critical institutions and public spaces – was turning out to be the single greatest obstacle to the vision Schmidt was advancing, first from his perch at the top of Google and Alphabet, and then as chair of two powerful boards advising US Congress and the Department of Defense. As the NSCAI documents reveal, this inconvenient exercise of power by members of the public and by tech workers inside these mega-firms has, from the perspective of men such as Schmidt and the Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos, maddeningly slowed down the AI arms race, keeping fleets of potentially deadly driverless cars and trucks off the roads, protecting private health records from becoming a weapon used by employers against workers, preventing urban spaces from being blanketing with facial recognition software, and much more.

Now, in the midst of the carnage of this ongoing pandemic, and the fear and uncertainty about the future it has brought, these companies clearly see their moment to sweep out all that democratic engagement. To have the same kind of power as their Chinese competitors, who have the luxury of functioning without being hampered by intrusions of either labour or civil rights.
 
Schoolchildren walking below surveillance cameras in Akto in China’s Xinjiang region. Photograph: Greg Baker/AFP via Getty Images

All of this is moving very fast. The Australian government has contracted with Amazon to store the data for its controversial coronavirus tracking app. The Canadian government has contracted with Amazon to deliver medical equipment, raising questions about why it bypassed the public postal service. And in just a few short days in early May, Alphabet has spun up a new Sidewalk Labs initiative to remake urban infrastructure with $400m in seed capital. Josh Marcuse, the executive director of the Defense Innovation Board chaired by Schmidt, announced that he was leaving that job to work full-time at Google as head of strategy and innovation for global public sector, meaning that he will be helping Google to cash in on some of the many opportunities he and Schmidt have been busily creating with their lobbying.

To be clear, technology is most certainly a key part of how we must protect public health in the coming months and years. The question is: will that technology be subject to the disciplines of democracy and public oversight, or will it be rolled out in state-of-exception frenzy, without asking critical questions that will shape our lives for decades to come? Questions such as these, for instance: if we are indeed seeing how critical digital connectivity is in times of crisis, should these networks, and our data, really be in the hands of private players such as Google, Amazon and Apple? If public funds are paying for so much of it, should the public also own and control it? If the internet is essential for so much in our lives, as it clearly is, should it be treated as a nonprofit public utility?

And while there is no doubt that the ability to teleconference has been a lifeline in this period of lockdown, there are serious debates to be had about whether our more lasting protections are distinctly more human. Take education. Schmidt is right that overcrowded classrooms present a health risk, at least until we have a vaccine. So how about hiring double the number of teachers and cutting class size in half? How about making sure that every school has a nurse?

That would create much-needed jobs in a depression-level unemployment crisis, and give everyone in the learning environment more elbow room. If buildings are too crowded, how about dividing the day into shifts, and having more outdoor education, drawing on the plentiful research that shows that time in nature enhances children’s capacity to learn?

Introducing those kinds of changes would be hard, to be sure. But they are not nearly as risky as giving up on the tried-and-true technology of trained humans teaching younger humans face-to-face, in groups where they learn to socialise with one another to boot.

Upon learning of New York state’s new partnership with the Gates Foundation, Andy Pallotta, the president of the New York State United Teachers union, was quick to react: “If we want to reimagine education, let’s start with addressing the need for social workers, mental health counsellors, school nurses, enriching arts courses, advanced courses and smaller class sizes in school districts across the state,” he said. A coalition of parents’ groups also pointed out that if they had indeed been living an “experiment in remote learning” (as Schmidt put it), then the results were deeply worrying: “Since the schools were shut down in mid-March, our understanding of the profound deficiencies of screen-based instruction has only grown.”

In addition to the obvious class and race biases against children who lack internet access and home computers (problems that tech companies are eager to be paid to solve with massive tech buys), there are big questions about whether remote teaching can serve many kids with disabilities, as required by law. And there is no technological solution to the problem of learning in a home environment that is overcrowded and/or abusive.

The issue is not whether schools must change in the face of a highly contagious virus for which we have neither cure nor inoculation. Like every institution where humans gather in groups, they will change. The trouble, as always in these moments of collective shock, is the absence of public debate about what those changes should look like, and who they should benefit – private tech companies or students?

The same questions need to be asked about health. Avoiding doctor’s offices and hospitals during a pandemic makes good sense. But telehealth misses a huge amount. So we need to have an evidence-based debate about the pros and cons of spending scarce public resources on telehealth – rather than on more trained nurses, equipped with all the necessary protective equipment, who are able to make house calls to diagnose and treat patients in their homes. And, perhaps most urgently, we need to get the balance right between virus tracking apps, which, with the proper privacy protections, have a role to play, and the calls for a “community health corps” that would put millions of Americans to work, not only doing contact-tracing, but making sure that everyone has the material resources and support they need to quarantine safely. 
 
A teacher in Maryland, US, handing out computers to students for remote learning. Photograph: Win McNamee/Getty Images

In each case, we face real and hard choices between investing in humans and investing in technology. Because the brutal truth is that, as it stands, we are very unlikely to do both. The refusal to transfer anything like the needed resources to states and cities in successive federal bailouts means that the coronavirus health crisis is now slamming headlong into a manufactured austerity crisis. Public schools, universities, hospitals and transit are facing existential questions about their futures. If tech companies win their ferocious lobbying campaign for remote learning, telehealth, 5G and driverless vehicles – their Screen New Deal – there simply won’t be any money left over for urgent public priorities, never mind the Green New Deal that our planet urgently needs. On the contrary: the price tag for all the shiny gadgets will be mass teacher layoffs and hospital closures.

Tech provides us with powerful tools, but not every solution is technological. And the trouble with outsourcing key decisions about how to “reimagine” our states and cities to men such as Bill Gates and Schmidt is that they have spent their lives demonstrating the belief that there is no problem that technology cannot fix.

For them, and many others in Silicon Valley, the pandemic is a golden opportunity to receive not just the gratitude, but the deference and power that they feel has been unjustly denied. And Andrew Cuomo, by putting the former Google chair in charge of the body that will shape the state’s reopening, appears to have just given him something close to free rein.

• Republished with permission from The Intercept.

• Follow the Long Read on Twitter at @gdnlongread


Robert Reich breaks down the deathly tragedy of American exceptionalism

May 12, 2020 By Robert Reich- Commentary



No other nation has endured as much death from Covid-19 nor nearly as a high a death rate as has the United States.

With 4.25 percent of the world population, America has the tragic distinction of accounting for about 30 percent of pandemic deaths so far.

And it is the only advanced nation where the death rate is still climbing. Three thousand deaths per day are anticipated by June 1st.


No other nation has loosened lockdowns and other social-distancing measures while deaths are increasing, as the U.S. is now doing.

No other advanced nation was as unprepared for the pandemic as was the U.S.

We now know Donald Trump and his administration were told by public health experts in mid-January that immediate action was required to stop the spread of Covid-19. But according to Dr Anthony Fauci, “there was a lot of pushback”. Trump didn’t act until March 16.

Epidemiologists estimate 90 percent of the deaths in the U.S. from the first wave of Covid-19 might have been prevented had social distancing policies been put into effect two weeks earlier, on March 2.

No nation other than the U.S. has left it to subordinate units of government – states and cities – to buy ventilators and personal protective equipment. In no other nation have such sub-governments been forced to bid against each another.

In no other nation have experts in public health and emergency preparedness been pushed aside and replaced by political cronies like Trump’s son-in-law, Jared Kushner, who in turn has been advised by Trump donors and Fox News celebrities.

In no other advanced nation has Covid-19 forced so many average citizens into poverty so quickly. The Urban Institute reports that more than 30 percent of American adults have had to reduce their spending on food.

Elsewhere around the world, governments are providing generous income support. Not in the U.S.

At best, Americans have received one-time checks for $1,200, about a week’s worth of rent, groceries and utilities. Few are collecting unemployment benefits because unemployment offices are overwhelmed with claims.

Congress’s “payroll protection plan” has been a mess. Because funds have been distributed through financial institutions, banks have raked off money for themselves and rewarded their favored customers. Of the $350 billion originally intended for small businesses, $243.4 million has gone to large publicly held companies.

Meanwhile, the Treasury and the Fed are bailing out big corporations from the debts they accumulated in recent years to buy back their shares of stock.

Why is America so different from other advanced nations facing the same coronavirus threat? Why has everything gone so tragically wrong?

Some of it is due to Trump and his hapless and corrupt collection of grifters, buffoons, sycophants, lobbyists and relatives.

But there are also deeper roots.

The coronavirus has been especially potent in the U.S. because America is the only industrialized nation lacking universal healthcare. Many families have been reluctant to see doctors or check into emergency rooms for fear of racking up large bills.

America is also the only one of 22 advanced nations failing to give all workers some form of paid sick leave. As a result, many American workers have remained on the job when they should have been home.

Adding to this is the skimpiness of unemployment benefits in America – providing less support in the first year of unemployment than those in any other advanced country.

American workplaces are also more dangerous. Even before Covid-19 ripped through meatpackers and warehouses, fatality rates were higher among American workers than European.

Even before the pandemic robbed Americans of their jobs and incomes, average wage growth in the U.S. had lagged behind average wage growth in most other advanced countries. Since 1980, American workers’ share of total national income has declined more than in any other rich nation.

In other nations, unions have long pushed for safer working conditions and higher wages. But American workers are far less unionized than workers in other advanced economies. Only 6.4% of private-sector workers in America belong to a union, compared to more than 26% in Canada, 37% in Italy, 67% in Sweden, and 25% in Britain.

So who and what’s to blame for the worst avoidable loss of life in American history?

Partly, Donald Trump’s malfeasance.

But the calamity is also due to America’s longer-term failure to provide its people the basic support they need.
Trump’s coronavirus response is genocide: 
Yale psychiatrist
I CONCUR

By Bandy X. Lee, DC Report @Raw Story - Commentary
May 12, 2020

This article was paid for by reader donations to Raw Story Investigates.

Based on my violence prevention work with international organizations, I had classified Donald Trump’s refusal to protect the American people against COVID-19 as “democide” and stated it was “democide of genocidal proportions.” But can we truly call it “genocide”?

Yes. According to the UN’s Genocide Convention, the perpetration of genocide requires an “intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group.” Since the White House itself has acknowledged the disproportionate deadly effects of the virus on minority communities, the intent can no longer be denied.

If a government fails to protect a racial, religious, national, social, or political group against violence, it is considered governmental violence.

Over my 15 years of teaching Yale Law School students to represent asylum seekers, we emphasized that if a government fails to protect a racial, religious, national, social, or political group against violence, it is considered governmental violence. The Trump administration may not have produced the novel coronavirus, but an overwhelming majority of COVID-19 illnesses and deaths are attributable to his failure to act or to use the resources at the government’s disposal.

Currently, African Americans are bearing the disproportionate brunt. According to the American Public Media Research Lab, the COVID-19 mortality rate for African Americans is 2.3 to 2.6 times higher than other ethnicities. A national study found that socioeconomic factors, such as decades of spatial segregation, inequitable access to testing and treatment, and employment status predict infection and death rates better than underlying health conditions. Predisposing co-morbidities, such as diabetes and hypertension, are themselves associated with the stress of being systematically despised, disinherited and disenfranchised. There is nothing “natural” about this racial difference for an infection that does not biologically discriminate.

Latinos in many places are also disproportionately affected. A family physician in Oregon found among low-income patients over several weeks, for example, that Latinos were 20 times as likely as other patients to test positive for the virus. According to public health experts, Latinos, like African Americans, often have low-paying service jobs that require them to work through the pandemic, in close interaction with the public. Poor access to health care also contributes to preexisting conditions that worsen outcomes.
Native Americans are similarly suffering. According to Indian Health Services, the Navajo reservation, which stretches across parts of Arizona, New Mexico, and Utah, had as of April 30 the third-highest per-capita rate of COVID-19 in the country, after New York and New Jersey. Native Americans also appear to have a higher risk of serious complications, as they are likelier to suffer from diabetes, heart disease, and other conditions. Meanwhile, nearly 500 tribal casinos remain shut down, ravaging fragile tribal finances.

All this brings structural violence to sharp relief. “Structural violence,” coined by the great Norwegian sociologist Johan Galtung, refers to the avoidable limitations that society places on groups of people that constrain them from meeting their basic needs.

Unlike more visible and obvious forms of violence, where a person or a group of persons physically harms someone, structural violence works politically, economically, socially, and culturally to diminish its victims’ chances at life. At first glance, this does not seem like violence, since inequality and injustice are embedded in stable social structures that show little overt disruption.

Most Lethal Form of Violence

But structural violence is by far the most lethal type of violence, causing excess deaths—deaths that would not occur in more equal societies—that dwarf the deadliness of behavioral violence. It causes more than 10 times the deaths from behavioral violence, or homicides, suicides, mass murders and wars combined, year after year, and is also the most potent stimulant of behavioral violence.

Structural violence imposes limitations that are socioeconomic, educational, medical or legal in nature, and usually originate in institutions that exercise power over particular subjects. Because these limitations are insidious and embedded in structures of long duration, people grow accustomed to them and overlook them as nothing more than ordinary, daily difficulties. Yet it is an adaptation to enduring conditions that are in truth more insidious and damaging than any other violence, even as they grow exponentially as unequal power differentials create more unequal structures. Crises such as the viral pandemic expose these vulnerabilities, as the acute worsening of injury and death causes untenable façades and collective denial to crumble.

I had introduced the collection of expert essays, The Dangerous Case of Donald Trump, with the disclaimer that: “the main point of this book is not about Mr. Trump. It is about the larger context that has given rise to his presidency, and the greater population that he affects by virtue of his position.” I was referring to a collective responsibility that the Trump presidency exposes and calls for. A president who separates children from their families and cages them, builds border walls, inspires white supremacist terrorism, institutes travel bans along nationality rather than infectability lines and calls a global pandemic a “Chinese virus,” vastly exacerbating racist attacks, is an expression of longstanding, systemic violence.
The Greatest Perpetrator

The president also becomes, by virtue of his position, the greatest perpetrator of structural violence, as his policies such as tax cuts that funnel wealth to the rich, or coronavirus stimulus packages that favor large corporate bailouts, accelerate economic inequality. His long-standing racism, such as wishing to kill five black men wrongly convicted of a Central Park assault and rape of a white woman, has found policy expression through the likes of Stephen Miller, Steve Bannon, Wilbur Ross and his enablers throughout the Republican party. If we know nothing else about the inner workings of Trump’s mind, we should know by now to take him at his word: He hates Mexican “rapists,” immigrants from non-European “shithole countries,” and “losers.” If COVID-19 kills some of them off, well, to Trump, all the better.

And as the occupant of the world’s most powerful office, Trump’s mere suggestions may be taken as orders for behavioral violence. Charging his followers to “liberate” the economy and exhorting governors to open their states is like Henry II asking: “Will no one rid me of this meddlesome priest?” Trump puts mostly minority workers in danger, principally to improve his reelection prospects rather than to protect public health.

With his inaction and sometimes cavalier attitude toward this COVID-19 crisis, Trump is facilitating the most insidious, enduring and most lethal form of genocide. Since violent societies support the rise of violent individuals, the path for healing is not to enable this attraction but to name it and to allow for a moment of redress, rather than to rush down the precipice of self-destruction.

Transfer of sphinxes to Cairo square stirs controversy

 Agence France-Presse MAY 12, 2020


In a bustling square of Egypt’s capital, four sphinx-like statues stand in wooden crates ahead of a planned unveiling ceremony following their controversial transfer from historical sites.

With the bodies of lions and heads of rams, the statues had for millennia graced Karnak temple in the southern city of Luxor representing the ancient Egyptian god “Amun”.

This month, the restored sandstone statues were moved to Cairo’s landmark Tahrir Square, the epicenter of a 2011 popular uprising that toppled longtime ruler Hosni Mubarak.

“I am against the moving of Luxor monuments. I was especially saddened by their relocation,” legislator Ahmed Idris from the city told AFP.

“Luxor has long been like an open museum which should be developed and its monuments’ historical value are tied to the city,” said Idris.

The statues will be the square’s centrepieces, along with a 19-meter-tall (60-foot-tall) pink granite obelisk of the famed Ramses II.

The 3,000-year-old obelisk — of Ramses II facing an ancient deity as well as inscriptions of his titles — was moved from a Nile Delta archaeological site.

The relocations which came as part of government plans to renovate Tahrir Square have drawn wide criticism from archaeologists and activists.

Some petitioned President Abdel Fattah al-Sisi to stop the transfer.

Others including lawyers from a rights group filed a lawsuit citing a 1964 Venice Charter on the conservation and restoration of monuments, saying the move could “jeopardize the priceless artefacts”.

Egypt signed the charter, adopted by UNESCO, in 1974.

– ‘A touch of civilization’ –


A frenetically busy square, Tahrir in downtown Cairo has long been associated with blaring car horns, traffic jams and exhaust fumes.

It stands a short stroll away from the Egyptian Museum, a tourist magnet which holds a vast collection of precious relics.

A staging ground for major protests in Egypt, the square has undergone multiple phases of renovation since the 2011 uprising.

Its renovation plan includes unifying building facades, removing street advertisements and an overhaul of its lighting.

In December, Sisi said the transfer of artefacts would add “a touch of civilization” to the site.

But fears have grown over possible damage to the monuments.

“The high pollution in Tahrir Square will ruin the antiquities and accelerate their deterioration,” Egyptologist Monica Hanna said in a Facebook post in December.

“A monument’s value is diminished when removed from its original historical context and becomes an ornament rather than a monument,” she said.

Egyptian architect Ayman Badr has said the square does not need “to be adorned with historical elements” as it “already holds historical value”.

– ‘A great honor’ –

Antiquities and Tourism Minister Khaled al-Anani has dismissed warnings that the monuments could be vandalized or be affected by pollution.

Ancient relics in Egyptian museums or public spaces often suffer damage by graffiti, engravings or just being frequently touched.

“No-one will be able to touch them. They will be placed on a high pedestal and surrounded by a water fountain,” Anani told a private television channel in March.

He said they would undergo regular restoration and maintenance.

The statues were not among those lined up on the famed Kebash (rams) avenue linking Karnak and Luxor temples, according to the minister.

Mahmoud Zaki, a tour guide from Luxor, also sided with those defending the transfers.

“We exhibit artefacts abroad for foreigners to enjoy… and now it’s a great honor that antiquities from Karnak temple adorn Egypt’s most popular square,” he told AFP.

An unveiling ceremony is planned but an official date has yet to be announced.

“It’s nonsensical that (Egyptian) obelisks could be found in public spaces across the world and none of them stands in Egypt’s most popular square,” said antiquities expert Ali Abu Deshish.

© 2020 AFP
OTD 
May 13, 1985

The bombing of MOVE

When the police dropped a bomb on a quiet Philly neighborhood
by Alex Q. Arbuckle




1978

MOVE members in front of their original headquarters in the Powelton Village area of Philadelphia.

IMAGE: LEIF SKOOGFORS/CORBIS

Drop a bomb on a residential area? I never in my life heard of that. It's like Vietnam.
STEVE HARMON, NEIGHBORHOOD RESIDENT


The black liberation group MOVE was founded in 1972 by John Africa (born Vincent Leaphart). Living communally in a house in West Philadelphia, members of MOVE all changed their surnames to Africa, shunned modern technology and materialism, and preached support of animal rights, revolution and a return to nature.

Their first conflict with law enforcement occurred in 1978, when police tried to evict them from their house. A firefight erupted, killing one police officer and injuring several more on both sides.

Nine members of the group were sentenced to 100 years in prison for the officer’s killing. In 1981, the group moved to a row house on Osage Avenue.



May 14, 1985

The three blocks destroyed by the fire.

IMAGE: BETTMANN/CORBIS
The city administration discounted negotiation as a method of resolving the problem. Any attempted negotiations were haphazard and uncoordinated.
PHILADELPHIA SPECIAL INVESTIGATION COMMISSION, MARCH 6, 1986


At their new headquarters, MOVE members boarded up the windows, built a fortified rooftop bunker and broadcasted profanity-laced political lectures with bullhorns at all hours, drawing complaints from neighbors. Members continued to rack up violations from contempt of court to illegal possession of firearms, to the point where they were considered a terrorist organization by the mayor and police commissioner.

On the morning of May 13, 1985, the police moved on the house.

Arriving with arrest warrants for four residents of the house, the police ordered them to come out peacefully. Before long, shooting began.

In response to gunfire from inside the house, more than 500 police officers discharged over 10,000 rounds of ammunition in 90 minutes. The house was hit with high-pressure firehoses and tear gas, but MOVE did not surrender.

Despite pleas for deescalation to the mayor from City Council President Joseph Coleman and State Senator Hardy Williams, Police Commissioner Gregore Sambor gave the order to bomb the house.



May 13, 1985

The fortified MOVE headquarters is hit with a deluge of water by firefighters.

IMAGE: AMY SANCETTA/AP
The Mayor's failure to call a halt to the operation on May 12, when he knew that children were in the house, was grossly negligent and clearly risked the lives of those children.
PHILADELPHIA SPECIAL INVESTIGATION COMMISSION, MARCH 6, 1986



May 13, 1985

A man flees for safety with a child while police assault the MOVE headquarters.

IMAGE: PETER MORGAN/AP
The Mayor abdicated his responsibilities as a leader when, after midday, he permitted a clearly failed operation to continue which posed great risk to life and property.
PHILADELPHIA SPECIAL INVESTIGATION COMMISSION, MARCH 6, 1986


At 5:28 p.m., a satchel bomb composed of FBI-supplied C4 and Tovex TR2, a dynamite substitute, on a 45-second timer was dropped from a state police helicopter, detonating near the fortified pillbox on the roof of the house.

Within minutes, a fire had consumed the roof and begun to spread.

Firefighters, already fearful of being shot at by MOVE members, were told to let the fire burn.

The blaze raged out of control, spreading down the block of row houses and hopping the narrow streets.




May 13, 1985

Smoke billows from the spreading fire after the bombing.

IMAGE: BETTMANN/CORBIS



May 13, 1985

A police officer looks on as the blaze spreads.

IMAGE: GEORGE WIDMAN/AP
We tried to get our children, our animals, ourselves out of that blazing inferno. And as the cops saw us coming out, they opened fire.
RAMONA AFRICA, BOMBING SURVIVOR



May 13, 1985



IMAGE: AP




May 13, 1985

A Philadelphia police officer watches a block of houses burn.

IMAGE: GEORGE WIDMAN/AP
The plan to bomb the MOVE house was reckless, ill-conceived and hastily approved. Dropping a bomb on an occupied row house was unconscionable and should have been rejected out-of-hand.
PHILADELPHIA SPECIAL INVESTIGATION COMMISSION, MARCH 6, 1986



May 14, 1985

Police officers walk through the destroyed neighborhood the day after the bombing.

IMAGE: BETTMANN/CORBIS



May 14, 1985

Dozens of houses continue to smolder the day after the bombing.

IMAGE: BETTMANN/CORBIS

The hasty, reckless and irresponsible decision by the Police Commissioner and the Fire Commissioner to use the fire as a tactical weapon was unconscionable.
PHILADELPHIA SPECIAL INVESTIGATION COMMISSION, MARCH 6, 1986



May 14, 1985

Workers remove the remains of a body from the rubble.

IMAGE: J. SCOTT APPLEWHITE/AP
Police gunfire in the rear alley prevented the escape from the fire of some occupants of the MOVE house.
PHILADELPHIA SPECIAL INVESTIGATION COMMISSION, MARCH 6, 1986



May 15, 1985

A worker transports the remains of a body found in the rubble.

IMAGE: GEORGE WIDMAN/AP



May 15, 1985



IMAGE: AP




May 15, 1985

Investigators search the rubble for bodies.

IMAGE: GEORGE WIDMAN/AP



May 16, 1985

Investigators use a screen to sift through debris.

IMAGE: GEORGE WIDMAN/AP




May 15, 1985

A woman mourns after returning to her destroyed neighborhood.

IMAGE: JACK KANTHAL/AP


By the time it was extinguished four hours later, 61 houses had been razed. Apart from a woman and 13-year-old boy who escaped when the fire started, everyone in the MOVE house was dead.

The 11 deaths included MOVE founder John Africa, five adults and five children between the ages of seven and 13.

Despite investigations and formal apologies, neither the mayor, nor the police commissioner, nor anyone else from the city was criminally charged.



Dec. 5, 1985

Mourners stand in front of the former MOVE headquarters as the funeral procession of John Africa passes.

IMAGE: BETTMANN/CORBIS

Curation:
Alex Q. Arbuckle

OTD MAY 13, 1985
The day Philadelphia bombed its own people

An oral history of a 1985 police bombing that changed the city forever.


By Lindsey Norward Updated Aug 15, 2019



As the smoke rose from 6221 Osage Avenue, Philadelphia residents watched through their windows or television screens in a state of stunned disbelief. Their city had just bombed its own people.

On the evening of May 13, 1985, longstanding tensions between MOVE, a black liberation group, and the Philadelphia Police Department erupted horrifically. That night, the city of Philadelphia dropped a satchel bomb, a demolition device typically used in combat, laced with Tovex and C-4 explosives on the MOVE organization, who were living in a West Philadelphia rowhome known to be occupied by men, women, and children. It went up in unextinguished flames. Eleven people were killed, including five children and the founder of the organization. Sixty-one homes were destroyed, and more than 250 citizens were left homeless.

A view of Osage Avenue in Philadelphia, just two days after a shootout and bombing between police and MOVE. Bettmann Archive/Getty Images

For the next several years, the confrontation with MOVE would be remembered as an ordeal that transformed the fabric of the city. The show of force, unjustified to many, solidified mistrust between Philadelphia’s residents and government. “The story is a parable of sorts; it’s a parable of how the unthinkable comes to happen,” said Jason Osder, the director of Let the Fire Burn, a documentary about the bombing. “It’s a tragedy. In my opinion, everyone who was an adult in the city failed that day ... collectively, the whole city failed.”

MOVE, not an acronym, was a political and religious organization whose principles were anti-government, anti-technology, and anti-corporation. Its creator, John Africa, born Vincent Leaphart, was a West Philadelphia native and Korean War veteran whose ideology combined black revolutionary ideas with environmental and animal rights, as well as a back-to-nature movement.

John Africa, founder of MOVE, leaves a federal courthouse in Philadelphia, after being acquitted on weapons and conspiracy charges on July 23, 1981. Bill Ingraham/AP
Members of MOVE gather in front of their house in the Powelton Village neighborhood of Philadelphia in 1978. Leif Skoogfors/Corbis via Getty Images

MOVE was founded in 1972 and still exists today, though its membership numbers are unknown. Members lived communally and described themselves as a family, changing their last names to Africa out of reverence for their founder and for the continent. In nonviolent but disruptive demonstrations, members protested at zoos, pet stores, and political rallies; the group believed in composting, homeschooling, and a diet of raw foods, and spoke out against war and police brutality. They maintained a complicated relationship with Philadelphia residents; some sympathized with their mission, while others found their lifestyle to be disruptive.

Members frequently had run-ins with authorities. In 1978, MOVE engaged in a 15-month standoff after then-Mayor Frank Rizzo, notorious for a volatile relationship with black residents and activist groups, ordered the group to be removed from their home. The confrontation ended in the death of a police officer for which nine members of MOVE, nicknamed the MOVE 9, were controversially convicted and given life sentences.

Four years later, MOVE relocated to the quiet, largely middle-class African American residence on Osage Avenue. Their neighbors continually complained to the city about trash around their rowhouse, confrontations with residents, and that MOVE members broadcast sometimes obscene political messages by bullhorn. After they’d spent three years on Osage Avenue, then-Mayor Wilson Goode, the first African American mayor of Philadelphia, gave the order to evict them. What began as a door-to-door evacuation of the neighborhood the night before became a violent, day-long ordeal no one in the community could have foreseen.

MOVE members hold sawed-off shotguns and automatic weapons as they stand in front of their barricaded headquarters on May 21, 1977. AP

Mayor W. Wilson Goode, center, leaves court after testifying at the trial of MOVE member, Ramona Africa, on January 25, 1986. Peter Morgan/AP
MOVE member Ramona Africa after being sentenced on April 14, 1986, for her role in the fatal confrontation with police on May 13, 1985. Peter Morgan/AP

Only two people survived the bombing — Ramona Africa, then 29, and a child, Birdie Africa, then 13, later known as Michael Moses Ward; both were badly burned. Despite two grand jury investigations, a civil suit, and a commission final report that cited the bombing as “reckless, ill-conceived, and hastily-approved,” no one was ever criminally charged for the attack. Survivor Ramona Africa immediately went on to serve seven years in prison on rioting and conspiracy charges for arrest warrants from before the bombing.

Neighbors returned to shoddy construction in 1986, and by the early 2000s, two-thirds of the neighborhood was bought out by the city. Today, the houses are largely vacant. The bombing, now deemed one of the worst tragedies in the history of Philadelphia, lives on in the memories of the city’s residents. A few years later, the Waco siege standoff between law enforcement and a Texas religious sect would sear itself into the country’s consciousness. The MOVE bombing remains largely forgotten nationally.

Mattie Cloves, 80 (right), who claims to be first black person to have moved onto the 6200 block of Osage Avenue in Philadelphia, sits on her porch with her daughter Nan Chaniey on June 24, 1996. Eleven years after officials dropped a bomb on the MOVE house and let the resulting fire burn, a federal jury found the city and two former top officials liable for the deadly incident, which also destroyed Cloves’s residence. Sabina Pierce/AP

Based on testimonies, interviews, and retellings from then and now by people who lived it, here’s the tale of how the fateful tragedy unfolded and changed Philadelphia forever. Some quotes have been condensed for clarity.

Diane J., a resident of the neighborhood: I went to hang out at the home of my friend’s in-laws that day. It was a beautiful day outside, a beautiful neighborhood. They were out of town and we went to watch the dog. We got there early and hadn’t been in the house very long. The police knocked on the door and told us everyone had to leave. There was a swarm of police officers outside — we had no idea what was going on. They told us it was an investigation of the MOVE people on the block over and we could come back later. So we took the dog and left.

Akhen Wilson, then a next-door neighbor of MOVE: The cops evacuated our block the night before. A lot of families went to shelters or hotels. My dad took us to a condo he started renting that week, because my parents were through with the situation. We took stuff to stay overnight and left everything else in the house.

Andrea Walls, writer and resident of the neighborhood: That morning, there was an announcement the police commissioner made over a bullhorn. I’ll never forget it.

Gregore Sambor, then-Philadelphia police commissioner (in testimony): With the bullhorn, I read the message ...

Ramona Africa, lone adult survivor of bombing (in 2015 interview with PressTV): Police Commissioner Gregore Sambor came out and said “Attention MOVE, this is America. You have to abide by the laws and rules of [the United States]”, words to that effect. I’m still trying to figure out what he meant by that...After they made that announcement, they didn’t just try to wait us out or anything. What was the hurry?

Albert Revel, then-Philadelphia police sergeant (in testimony): The tactical plan as I understood it was to remove the MOVE people, all the people from the house safely … by causing a diversion on the roof, inserting the insertion teams on either side of the properties, and by then, inducing an amount of CS gas in a sufficient concentration to make those people come out of the house.

Ramona Africa, lone adult survivor of bombing (in 2010 interview with Angola News): They aimed four water cannons at our home. We were all in the basement and the water was just pouring down on us for the longest time. Mind you, this is when there was no fire at all...

Michael Moses Ward, lone child survivor, also known as Birdie Africa (in testimony): We was in the cellar for a while … and tear gas started coming in and we got the blankets. And they was wet. And then we put them over our heads and started laying down.

Angie Lofton, a resident of the neighborhood: I went to work and turned on the news. I saw clouds of tear gas and the gunfire started. It was rapid-fire. I couldn’t believe it. I had heard the MOVE kids were supposed to be picked up by authorities at Cobbs Creek Parkway before any action was supposed to happen. It was horrifying to know that they were still in the house.

Wilson Goode, then-mayor of Philadelphia (during a press conference): There was no way to avoid it. No way to extract ourselves from that situation except by armed confrontation.

William Brown III, chair of the Special Investigation MOVE Commission: It was clear that the MOVE people didn’t have any automatic weapons. They later found only a couple of shotguns and a rifle [in the MOVE house]. Yet the police fired so many rounds of ammunition — at least 10,000 — into that building during the day that they had to send up to the police headquarters to get more.

Andrea Walls, writer and a resident of the neighborhood: How could they decide to fire 10,000 rounds of ammunition into a building with women and children? It was absolutely insane.

Ron Archer, a resident of the neighboring block: Helicopters were everywhere. I was standing at the corner and I climbed on top of the mailbox so I could see better. I saw a bomb drop. Then it felt like someone had pushed me.

Michael Moses Ward, also known as Birdie Africa: That’s when the big bomb went off. It shook the whole house up.

Arnett Woodall, a resident and current store owner in the neighborhood: We were playing basketball at a recreational center in the area. When the explosion went off, it shook the ground.

Gregore Sambor, then-Philadelphia police commissioner (in testimony): … I had recommended that the best way was to use an explosive entry device to blow a hole in the roof to insert gas in through the roof, and also to dislodge the bunker.

Frank Powell, retired Philadelphia police lieutenant, known for dropping the bomb (in 1985 interview with the Philadelphia Inquirer): The bunker was not destroyed. There was a hole in the roof, a football-shaped hole about 1 foot wide, 2 feet long. I looked down in the hole. There was no fire and no smoke. … About 15 to 20 minutes later, I started to receive information from the stakeout post that there was a fire …

Ramona Africa, lone adult survivor of the bombing: We felt the house shake, but it hadn’t occurred to us that they dropped a bomb. Pretty quickly, it got smokier and smokier. At first we thought it was the tear gas, but then it got thicker. … It started getting hot in there. The house was on fire.

Michael Africa Jr., MOVE member and son of Debbie and Michael Africa Sr.: I was living with my grandmother at the time. We were 4 miles away, but I could see the black smoke in the sky as if it was down the street. ... I went in and saw my grandmother and aunts watching the news. They were all huddled up together and they were all crying. I looked at the TV and I said, “That looks like our house”. And my aunt looked at me and said, “It is.”

Akhen Wilson, then a next-door neighbor of MOVE: We watched the bombing on TV at the condo. Our house started to go up in flames. I went out on the balcony and I could see the smoke billowing from across the city.

Angie Lofton, a resident of the neighborhood: At the back of our house, the kids playing in their yards were yelling, “Ouch! Ouch!” because they were getting singed from ash falling.

Wilson Goode, then-mayor of Philadelphia: You can always second-guess any decision. The one thing we did that went wrong was when the percussion grenade was dropped, it caused a fire. That was an accident. I was as saddened by that as anyone else.

Diane J., a resident of the neighborhood: We went to my friend’s house, and later that day we saw the bombing on the news. We were devastated. I was angry, heartbroken. It was a beautiful home. They were travelers. They had things that were priceless. And they lost everything. Everything.


Angie Lofton, a resident of the neighborhood: Everyone’s question at the time was why weren’t they putting the fire out. They were just gonna let the fire burn. Later we’d find out that the police commissioner and fire commissioner agreed to use it as a tactical plan.

William Brown III, chair of the Special Investigation MOVE Commission: We were told by the experts that when the fire first started, you could have put it out with a bucket of water.

Andrea Walls, writer and resident of the neighborhood: The building is on fire, with firemen on the scene, and everyone agrees not to fight the fire and to allow 60 homes to burn. How can this happen? How could no one say, wait, hold up, something’s not right. Y’all are serving misdemeanor warrants and this is where we end up at the end of the day? What does it mean? For years, I’ve been trying to understand. And I came to the conclusion that we have been absorbing all of this anti-black rhetoric, all of this anti-black imagery, our entire lives. We’re just all absorbing this expectation that black life and black bodies have very little value.

Angie Lofton, a resident of the neighborhood: It started spreading only two blocks from where we lived; I stayed awake that night praying it wouldn’t spread to ours.

James Berghaier, retired Philadelphia police officer (in 2010 interview with the Philadelphia Inquirer): That’s the closest I’ve ever been to a large fire. The heat would pop the glass … you couldn’t interpret if it was a gunshot or not. We heard over the radio that they were coming out.

Ramona Africa, lone adult survivor of bombing: We immediately tried to get our children, our animals, ourselves out of the burning building. We were hollering, “We’re coming out!” [The cops] immediately started shooting, trying to prevent anybody from coming out of that house. We were forced back in at least twice.

William Brown III, chairperson of the Special Investigation “MOVE” Commission: Police officers denied using gunfire, though it is unclear why MOVE members would choose to run back into the fire.

James Berghaier, retired Philadelphia police officer: Out of the smoke, the first person I saw was Ramona. Then I see who was later identified as Birdie come out of the fire … I ran out and scooped him underneath his left arm.

Angie Lofton, a resident of the neighborhood: I had never seen anything like it. I had seen the Vietnam War coverage on TV but never my neighborhood in flames. When I watered the plants the day after the bombing, they had burn holes.

Diane J., a resident of the neighborhood: I didn’t know until later there were people still in the MOVE house. I didn’t know that my friend’s husband who was a MOVE member was killed in that fire.

Debbie Africa, member of MOVE 9 released from prison in 2018: A prison guard came to our cells and told Janine, Janet, and Sue, “They just had a firebombing at your house and your children are dead.” I don’t blame her because it was her job to tell us. But we couldn’t believe it. It was just horrible and unbelievable.


Michael Africa Sr., member of MOVE 9 released from prison in 2018: Even while watching the footage it was unbelievable. Unbelievable something like that could happen, that a government would do that to its own people.

Akhen Wilson, then a next-door neighbor of MOVE: In ’86, it was a 180-degree [turn]. The neighbors were all excited to get back into our homes and back to the new normal. There were a lot of people displaced during that time … people returned with hope. They took tragedy and learned from it.

Ron Archer, a resident of the neighboring block: The stab to the heart was when the buyout happened, when the old people left. I want to say that 90 percent of those people took it. It was a close-knit community.

Diane J., a resident of the neighborhood: Folks just moved on from the community because it was easier. But the memories will always be there.

Gerald Renfrow, a resident on the block (in 2019 interview with WHYY): My hope is that it will be, once again, a beautiful community. And maybe once again, we can be extended family. We’ll be getting to know our new neighbors, they’ll be getting to know us.

Arnett Woodall, a resident and store owner in the neighborhood: We must rebuild and remember that day. We must remember the children who died, the lives that were lost. It’s a black eye on the city we can’t let them forget.
MOVE members’ children listen to speeches during a commemorative march for the victims of the 1985 MOVE bombing and fire on May 14, 2005, in Philadelphia. William Thomas Cain/Getty Images

Lindsey Norward is a Brooklyn- and Philadelphia-based journalist who writes about history, culture, and media.


SEE

https://plawiuk.blogspot.com/2020/05/the-day-philadelphia-bombed-its-own.html    

https://plawiuk.blogspot.com/2020/05/may-13-1985-bombing-of-move-when-police.html


https://plawiuk.blogspot.com/2020/05/opinion-35-years-ago-philly-dropped.html
OTD MAY 13, 1985
35 years ago, Philly dropped a bomb on MOVE. It’s time to apologize. | Editorial

OPINION
Updated: May 12, 2020 -


The Inquirer Editorial Board | opinion@inquirer.com


FILE PHOTOGRAPH

Former Philadelphia Mayor W. Wilson Goode Sr. has called on the city of Philadelphia — in an op-ed published by the Guardian — to issue a formal apology Wednesday, the 35th anniversary of the day his administration dropped a bomb on a group of citizens. The action claimed the lives of six adults and five children and burned a neighborhood to the ground.


Both Mayor Jim Kenney and City Council President Darrell L. Clarke have so far remained mum on whether they will respond. They may think there are more important things to deal with at a time of a deadly public health crisis. They might think they didn’t participate in the bombing, so why should they apologize? They may wonder what good an apology would do, anyway.

These are fair questions. Still, it is an opportunity for city leaders to acknowledge some hard truths — about how race was at the center of a terrible loss of life and livelihood then, and 35 years later, it remains at the center of a terrible loss of life and livelihood.

On May 13, 1985, the police, after a day-long confrontation with the black radical and naturalist group MOVE, in an attempt to evict their compound on 6221 Osage Ave., dropped an explosive device on the roof of the building. The roof caught fire. Committed to achieving “tactical superiority” to his mission, then-Police Commissioner Gregore J. Sambor told the fire commissioner to let the fire burn. Eleven people, including five children, died, 61 houses burned, and at least 250 people were left homeless.

The vast majority of victims — MOVE and neighbors — were black.

The former mayor is adamant to this day that he was misled and didn’t know about the plan to drop an explosive device on the house, despite conflicting accounts that he approved it.

Heavily armed, and infamous for a confrontation with police in 1978 in which an officer was killed, and a nuisance on the block it occupied, MOVE was not a sympathetic group. But sympathy is not a prerequisite to recognizing injustice.

The bombing isn’t the only part of the MOVE story tainted with systemic racism. Neighbors of MOVE had complained about the commune for years but were ignored by the city. After the bombing, the city rebuilt houses that quickly fell apart, leaving many without decent shelter, and the neighborhood physically scarred.

Today, as poverty continues to choke the city, and Kensington residents ask how long homeless encampments would have been allowed in Rittenhouse Square, and as Benjamin Franklin High School parents whose concerns about asbestos were ignored until whiter, Science Leadership Academy students were exposed, it’s clear that questions of race and class continue to resonate. And long-standing racial health disparities mean that the coronavirus is killing nearly twice as many blacks than whites in Philadelphia.

Mayor Kenney and City Council President Clarke might have not been there on that day in 1985, but they are here today, as heirs to the city’s leadership history — and its future. Acknowledging mistakes is a powerful way to move forward and to demand change — even if those mistakes were made by someone else.




Philadelphia Mayor Jim Kenney, Council President Darrell Clarke silent on whether city should apologize for MOVE bombing
by Sean Collins Walsh, Updated: May 10, 2020



TOM GRALISH / STAFF PHOTOGRAPHER

As calls grow for the city to issue a formal apology for the MOVE bombing timed for Wednesday’s 35th anniversary of the tragedy — which left 11 people dead, including five children, and burned down 61 homes — the city’s top leaders have so far declined to weigh in.

“Nothing is planned,” said Mike Dunn, a spokesperson for Mayor Jim Kenney. Dunn did not respond to a question about whether Kenney would be supportive of efforts to acknowledge the city’s role in what is remembered as one of the darkest chapters in Philadelphia history.

Council President Darrell L. Clarke declined to comment through a spokesperson on whether he would support legislation related to MOVE, described at the time of the 1985 bombing as a radical back-to-nature group.

Former Mayor W. Wilson Goode Sr., who authorized the bombing on Osage Avenue in Cobbs Creek and has publicly apologized for his role, called for an official atonement by the city in an op/ed published Sunday by a British newspaper, the Guardian.

“After 35 years, it would be helpful for the healing of all involved, especially the victims of this terrible event, if there was a formal apology made by the City of Philadelphia,” Goode wrote. “That way, we can begin to build a bridge that spans from the tragic events of the past into our future.”

Goode’s comments are part of a nearly two-year effort by an ad hoc group of former city officials, MOVE members, and reconciliation experts, the Guardian reported. The group, which was formed after critics of Goode’s handling of the tragedy protested a 2018 ceremony naming a street after him, has also produced a draft apology resolution that City Councilmember Jamie Gauthier, who represents West Philadelphia, plans to introduce.

Kenney and Clarke were invited to participate in the process, but have not done so, said Pauline Thompson Guerin, a Penn State University psychologist working with the group.

“To not engage with an apology says a lot,” Thompson Guerin said in an interview. “It’s the city of brotherly love and sisterly affection, but you won’t apologize for an obvious harm, an event that nobody questions the devastation, nobody questions how horrible that was.”

Former Gov. Ed Rendell, who as district attorney prosecuted MOVE members, worked with the group for a time, but stopped participating, Thompson Guerin said. Rendell said Friday that he is skeptical that Council will approve a formal apology.

It is unclear when Gauthier’s resolution could be introduced. Council, which has been holding virtual meetings to practice social distancing during the coronavirus pandemic, is acting only on legislation related to the public-health emergency or the city budget.

Gauthier, however, said that, even without an official resolution, Council members could still recognize the anniversary at their meeting Thursday.

“It’s long overdue. This was a tragic and atrocious human-rights tragedy committed by our government against its own people,” Gauthier said in an interview Sunday.

But offering an official apology to MOVE remains a politically contentious proposal. Police Officer James Ramp was killed in a 1978 standoff that set the stage for the infamous bombing, although MOVE members say he was killed accidentally by another officer. The group was despised by some of its neighbors, who, among other complaints to the city, alleged that the children in the home were being neglected.

Thompson Guerin noted that the resolution offers an apology not just to MOVE members, but to everyone touched by the tragedy, such as police officers who have told the group they still struggle with post-traumatic stress disorder due to their involvement, and for a neighborhood that was turned upside down.

“This isn’t just about MOVE. A lot of people were harmed through a lot of incidents related to MOVE: the police officers, firefighters, responders,” she said. “We’ve talked to so many people who were impacted in a variety of ways.”

Ulysses Slaughter, a reconciliation strategist working with the group, said it was unfortunate that top city leaders couldn’t agree that an official apology was warranted.

“If the people who we say are our leaders … cannot see the value in that, it becomes more clear for me as to why people withdraw from political engagement because it doesn’t seem to have any real value,” Slaughter said.

Nonetheless, Slaughter said, he is optimistic the city will one day make amends.

“If the apology doesn’t come now," he said, "it’s the beginning of a long road ahead.”


When I was mayor, Philadelphia bombed civilians. It's time for the city to apologise

Thiry-five years ago, we did something inexcusable. A formal apology is crucial for the healing process, and overdue


W Wilson Goode
Sun 10 May 2020 
THE GUARDIAN
 

‘We will never know exactly what happened on 13 May 1985 on Osage Avenue, but I do know there are some things beyond excusing.’ Photograph: George Widman/AP

The date 13 May will be forever etched in my mind.

Thirty-five years ago, members of Move, a black liberation and back-to-nature group, barricaded themselves in a row house in west Philadelphia. The situation escalated into an armed standoff with the Philadelphia police. On 13 May 1985, the police dropped an explosive device from a helicopter on to the house. The decision to drop explosives on a house filled with people was indefensible. The bombs ignited a fire which killed 11 people, including five children, and razed 61 homes to the ground.

The event will remain on my conscience for the rest of my life. I was the mayor of Philadelphia at the time. Although I was not personally involved in all the decisions that resulted in 11 deaths, I was chief executive of the city. I would not intentionally harm anyone, but it happened on my watch. I am ultimately responsible for those I appointed. I accept that responsibility and I apologize for their reckless actions that brought about this horrific outcome, even though I knew nothing about their specific plan of action.

This is the fourth time I’ve publicly apologized. My first official apology on behalf of the city came on 14 May 1985 in a televised address to the citizens of Philadelphia, to the Move family and to their neighbors. Today I would like to apologize again and extend that apology to all who experienced, and in many cases continue to experience, pain and distress from the government actions that day. They include the Move family, their neighbors, the police officers, firefighters and other public servants as well as all the citizens of Philadelphia.

There can never be an excuse for dropping an explosive from a helicopter on to a house with men, women and children inside

But there’s something more I want to suggest on this important anniversary. After 35 years it would be helpful for the healing of all involved, especially the victims of this terrible event, if there was a formal apology made by the City of Philadelphia. That way we can begin to build a bridge that spans from the tragic events of the past into our future. Many in the city still feel the pain of that day. I know I will always feel the pain.

There can never be an excuse for dropping an explosive from a helicopter on to a house with men, women and children inside and then letting the fire burn. I will never accept one. Some want me to blame the Move family or their neighbors; that is absolutely wrong thinking and I will never do so. We will never know exactly what happened on 13 May 1985 on Osage Avenue, but I do know there are some things beyond excusing.

I know I can’t change the past by apologizing, but I can express my deep and sincere regrets and call upon other former and current elected officials to do so. I believe this action can be a small step toward healing. I apologize and encourage others do the same. We will be a better city for it.

The Rev Dr W Wilson Goode, Sr served as mayor of Philadelphia from 1984-1992



SEE

https://plawiuk.blogspot.com/2020/05/the-day-philadelphia-bombed-its-own.html    

https://plawiuk.blogspot.com/2020/05/may-13-1985-bombing-of-move-when-police.html


https://plawiuk.blogspot.com/2020/05/opinion-35-years-ago-philly-dropped.html