Thursday, April 25, 2024

Report Sounds Alarm Over Growing Role of Big Tech in US Military-Industrial Complex

The center of the U.S. military-industrial complex has been shifting over the past decade from the Washington, D.C. metropolitan area to Northern California – a shift that is accelerating with the rise of artificial intelligence-based systems, according to a report published Wednesday.

The report – entitled How Big Tech and Silicon Valley Are Transforming the Military-Industrial Complex – was authored by Roberto J. González, a professor of cultural anthropology at San José State University, for the Costs of War Project at Brown University’s Watson Institute for International & Public Affairs.

The new paper comes amid the contentious rise of AI-powered lethal autonomous weapons systems, or killer robots; increasing reliance upon AI on battlefields from Gaza to Ukraine; and growing backlash from tech workers opposed to their companies’ products and services being used to commit or enable war crimes.

“Although much of the Pentagon’s $886 billion budget is spent on conventional weapon systems and goes to well-established defense giants such as Lockheed Martin, RTX, Northrop Grumman, General Dynamics, Boeing, and BAE Systems, a new political economy is emerging, driven by the imperatives of big tech companies, venture capital (VC), and private equity firms,” González wrote.

“As Defense Department officials have sought to adopt AI-enabled systems and secure cloud computing services, they have awarded large multibillion-dollar contracts to Microsoft, Amazon, Google, and Oracle,” he added. “At the same time, the Pentagon has increased funding for smaller defense tech startups seeking to ‘disrupt’ existing markets and ‘move fast and break things.'”

The report highlights the rise of a new class of billion-dollar military contractors, “a combination of gargantuan tech firms like Microsoft, Amazon, and Google, and hundreds of smaller, pre-IPO startup companies supported by VC firms.”

“The use of drones and AI-enabled weapons systems in Ukraine and Gaza, and a feared AI arms race with China, have fueled the Pentagon’s heavy investment in advanced digital tech,” González wrote.

A lack of transparency is obscuring the true value of some of the largest military contracts to tech companies.

“One estimate indicates that U.S. military and intelligence agencies awarded at least $28 billion to Microsoft, Amazon, and Alphabet (Google’s parent company) between 2018 and 2022,” the report states. “The actual value of these contracts is likely much higher, because many of the largest known contracts with U.S. tech companies are classified and withheld from public procurement databases.”

González found that the five largest military contracts to major tech firms between 2018 and 2022 “had contract ceilings totaling at least $53 billion combined.”

“Major tech firms are also awarded large subcontracts from relatively obscure intermediaries or ‘passthrough’ companies that are granted primary contracts from the Pentagon – evading scrutiny and analysis,” the paper adds.

González said that multi-year software-as-a-service contracts “could make the Pentagon and CIA more dependent than ever on the expertise of technical experts from the private sector.”

The risk of conflicts of interest increases as military-dependent tech companies go public.

“As just one example, since going public, more than half of Palantir Technologies’ revenue has come from the federal government,” the report states. “Recent Palantir contracts with the U.S. Army Special Operations Command and the Air Force are worth more than $900 million. Palantir stock rose more than 170% in 2023.”

There’s also the danger of a “revolving door” between Silicon Valley and the Pentagon as many senior government officials “are now gravitating towards defense-related VC or private equity firms as executives or advisers after they retire from public service.”

“The traditional ‘revolving door’ meant that a former defense official might accept an executive position with traditional weapons manufacturers; there are more lucrative options now,” González wrote. “At least 50 former defense officials are working in VC and private equity, leveraging their connections with current officials or members of Congress to advance beneficial legislation for defense tech firms in their firms’ investment portfolios.”

“The implications are significant: The new ‘revolving door’ will accelerate military and intelligence agency funding for early-stage defense tech startups,” the report states.

González details how “overblown, inaccurate, ideological talking points are driving defense funding for Big Tech,” including “grandiose claims about the effectiveness of artificial intelligence; the overestimation of China’s military and technological capabilities; the idea that America has the ability and duty to protect the world’s democratic societies; and a steadfast belief that the best way to preserve U.S. dominance is through a free market that prioritizes corporate needs.”

“These perspectives boost demand for military AI, and are promoted by a network of tech executives, venture capitalists, think tank analysts, academic researchers, journalists, and Pentagon leaders,” he wrote.

Finally, the report warns that “aggressive Big Tech business models” can rush the development of weapons, endangering both combatants and civilians.

“Members of the armed services and civilians are in danger of being harmed by inadequately tested – or algorithmically flawed – AI-enabled technologies,” the paper states. “By nature, VC firms seek rapid returns on investment by quickly bringing a product to market, and then ‘cashing out’ by either selling the startup or going public. This means that VC-funded defense tech companies are under pressure to produce prototypes quickly and then move to production before adequate testing has occurred.”

Brett Wilkins is is staff writer for Common Dreams. Based in San Francisco, his work covers issues of social justice, human rights and war and peace. This originally appeared at CommonDreams and is reprinted with the author’s permission.

US Foreign Policy: ‘No Daylight’ Is Where Peace Dies In Darkness

“Absent a directed, sustained, and articulated policy of no daylight between the United States and Israel,” Matthew Continetti wrote in the Washington Free Beacon on March 29, “the rift between America and her ally will widen and the world will grow more dangerous.”

Proof that Continetti had things completely bass-ackward arrived on April 1, when Israeli aircraft attacked an Iranian consulate building in Syria, killing 16 and boosting the already not insignificant prospect of a wider regional war. The US regime disclaimed prior knowledge of the Israeli strike, but couldn’t be bothered to actually condemn it.

While occasionally, softly, and grudgingly calling for “restraint” from all parties, Washington has continued its policy of supporting the Israeli regime no matter what it does, and blaming Israel’s adversaries for every Bad Thing that happens in the Middle East.

The US and Israeli regimes remain in a bear hug through which not so much as a single ray of daylight passes. And THAT makes the world more dangerous.

If the US left Israel to its own devices, or at the very least conditioned its billions of dollars in annual aid — not to mention its support in every argument — on good behavior, we might see some progress toward peace.

How many fights would Israel pick with Iran, Syria, and Lebanon if it didn’t have the US threatening to pound anyone who doesn’t comply with its every demand?

Without the US backing its every play, might not Israel eventually consider withdrawing to within its own borders and leaving the state of Palestine to chart its own future course, instead of continuing decades of military occupation both rooted in, and giving rise to, numerous large and small wars?

The US-Israeli relationship is, essentially, a big bully standing behind a smaller bully, routinely supporting the smaller bully’s bullying.

When, as (very) occasionally happens, Big Bully whispers “hey, you might want to take it down a notch,” Little Bully ignores the whisper.

But instead of walking away and letting Little Bully experience the full consequences of his actions, Big Bully always gives in and protects Little Bully from those consequences.

That raise the interesting question of who’s really the more powerful bully in the relationship. And, more importantly, it tells Little Bully “there are no consequences for bad behavior — do whatever you feel like doing with impunity.”

Such a policy both creates and increases the dangers of war. For everyone.

Author: Thomas Knapp

Thomas L. Knapp is director and senior news analyst at the William Lloyd Garrison Center for Libertarian Advocacy Journalism, publisher of Rational Review News Digest, and moderator of Antiwar.com’s commenting/discussion community. View all posts by Thomas Knapp

The legacy of Portugal's Carnation Revolution in Africa

On April 25, 1974, the Carnation Revolution marked a turning point for Portugal and its colonies in Africa. Fifty years later, links between the Lusophone countries are stronger than ever — with a few exceptions.

Antonio Cascais

Led by the left-wing Armed Forces Movement and supported by the vast majority of the population, Carnation Revolution not only brought down Portugal's nearly 50-year dictatorship under Antonio de Oliveira Salazar and Marcelo Caetano, but also paved the way for the end of the country's colonial wars in Africa.

Within a few years, Angola, Mozambique, Guinea-Bissau, Cape Verde, and Sao Tome and Príncipe would celebrate their independence.

On Thursday, the 50th anniversary of the Carnation Revolution will be officially celebrated in Portugal's capital, Lisbon, in the presence of various heads of state and government, including from Africa's five Lusophone countries.
Carnation Revolution and Angola's independence

"In Angola, the Carnation Revolution evokes positive feelings," said Nkikinamo Tussamba, a political analyst who was born in the northern province of Zaire 13 years after the revolution.

"The Portuguese Revolution significantly influenced the independence process of our own country," Tussamba said. "Thanks to the Carnation Revolution, the independence of our country could be proclaimed a year and a half later — on November 11, 1975."

With the change of regime, direct negotiations between the Portuguese government and the independence movements in Angola began in earnest, and, in January 1975, Portugal signed independence agreements with the three liberation organizations of Angola — MPLA, UNITA and FNLA — in the southern Portuguese town of Alvor in the Algarve.

Portuguese officials sign the Alvor Agreement with representatives of Angolan liberation movementsImage: casacomum.org/Arquivo Mário Soares

'An important milestone' in Mozambique

The journalist Fernando Lima told DW that "April 25 was an important milestone," in Mozambique.

"It is indisputable that the Carnation Revolution was decisive in allowing us to sign an independence agreement with Portugal a few months later — in September 1974 — and that our country could become independent a year later," he said.

The son of Portuguese settlers, Lima chose Mozambican citizenship after independence, opting to "remain an African in Africa."

Fernando Cardoso, a professor of international relations and geopolitics at the Autonomous University of Lisbon, had the opposite experience: Cardoso had also grown up in Mozambique during colonial times but moved to Lisbon with his parents shortly after independence.

As an adult, he kept his links to the African continent, traveling to Mozambique, Angola and Cape Verde as a lecturer and as the head of several research projects.

"The Carnation Revolution undoubtedly accelerated the process of decolonization," Cardoso told DW.

"The independence of the Portuguese colonies would have occurred sooner or later, even without the Carnation Revolution in Portugal," Cardoso said. He added that the United Nations and several countries had exerted enormous diplomatic pressure on Portugal as the "first and last colonial power in Africa."

There was also increased military pressure on Portugal to grant Mozambique its independence: Angola's MPLA, UNITA and FNLA were receiving increasingly large weapons deliveries and military training from the Soviet Union and other Eastern bloc countries, as well as from China.

This helped fighters of the Mozambican liberation movement FRELIMO advance from the north toward the heart of the country.

In June 1974, Portuguese Foreign Minister Mario Soares met Samora Machel, who became Mozambique's president a year later

Image: casacomum.org/Arquivo Mário Soares

Cape Verde and Sao Tome and Principe

If the Carnation Revolution had not taken place in Portugal, Sao Tome and Príncipe, as well as the Cape Verde islands, might have remained in the hands of European colonizers for longer.

Even now, island groups such as the Azores remain in Portugal's hands despite the liberation movements that established a foothold there in the 1970s.

This was not quite the case on the ground in Cape Verde and in Sao Tome and Principe. However, Cardoso said, "there were loud voices demanding comprehensive autonomy or even complete independence for the islands," in both archipelagos.

In Cape Verde in particular, the struggle for freedom was seen as an extension of the independence movement of Guinea-Bissau.

Guinea-Bissau set tone for other colonies

At the time of the Carnation Revolution, the process of gaining independence was most advanced in Guinea-Bissau. Militarily, the Portuguese army had long lost control over large parts of the West African colony.

The African Party for the Independence of Guinea and Cape Verde (PAIGC) under the leadership of Amilcar Cabral had unilaterally declared independence from Portugal on September 25, 1973 — exactly seven months before the Carnation Revolution.

By the time Portugual's dictatorship — and thus the colonial regime — collapsed, 34 UN member states had already recognized Guinea-Bissau as an independent state.

Carmelita Pires, the former justice minister of Guinea-Bissau, told DW that the independence movement in Guinea-Bissau helped Portugal throw off the shackles of dictatorship. "Through our successful liberation war in Guinea-Bissau," Pires said, "we indirectly supported the demands of the Portuguese population for an end to colonialism and war and for freedom."

"We Guineans do not want to be immodest," Pires said, "but I dare say that we have made a not insignificant contribution to the success of the Carnation Revolution."

Guinea-Bissau, 1972: The liberation organization PAIGC, under the leadership of Amilcar Cabral (in the foreground), gradually takes control over large parts of the country

Image: casacomum.org/Documentos Amílcar Cabral

Relations in the Lusosphere 'never better than now'

In the first years after independence, relations between the newly emerged independent states of Africa and Portugal were difficult.

The five new countries took ideologically divergent paths from their erstwhile colonial power: While Portugal turned toward Western Europe, the African nations established Marxism-based one-party systems with the help of the Soviet Union.

In the early days, the new African governments repeatedly accused Portugal of harboring representatives of rebel organizations, especially Mozambique's RENAMO and Angola's UNITA, who would fight against the Soviet-aligned regimes in their countries.

But the discord between Portugal and the former colonies did not last for long, Pires said: "After a certain transitional period, we Guineans approached Portugal again. For us, it was always clear that our liberation struggle was directed against the Portuguese colonial system, and by no means against the Portuguese people."
Familial and cultural ties in Lusophone Africa

Pires is a descendant of a Portuguese settler in Guinea-Bissau who married a woman from the Fulani ethnic group. For her, these familial and cultural ties continue to connect the people of Guinea-Bissau to Portugal.

"Many Guineans still bear Portuguese names today," Pires said. "That sets us apart from peoples from other colonial systems, such as Anglophone or Francophone ones."

Carmelita Pires, former Minister of Justice of Guinea-Bissau, says her country's ties to Portugal remain strong

Image: DW/F. Tchumá

The Mozambican writer Adelino Timoteo, whose latest novel is set during the Carnation Revolution, told DW that "in Mozambique, there have always been close contacts between African, European and even Arab cultures."

"Later, Indians and Chinese from the former Portuguese colonies in Asia also joined in," Timoteo said. "They were all integrated with us. We are still influenced by this legacy of the Portuguese colonial era and therefore are better able today, despite all the wounds of the past, to maintain good relations with Portugal and the Portuguese."

Community of Portuguese Language Countries

It wasn't clear from the outset that the cultural relationship between Portugal and its former colonies would always be painted in such positive colors.

Andre Thomashausen, a professor of international law and constitutional law at the University of South Africa, told DW that, after the Carnation Revolution, "people in Portugal asked anxious questions: What will become of Portugal's relations with Africa?"

"I was in Portugal at the time and advocated the firm belief that the country should play an important and special role in Africa, and that Portugal had the potential to serve as a gateway from Africa to Europe," Thomashausen said.

Portugal went on to establish close links with all the Lusophone countries based on the shared history, culture and language. "All former colonies adopted Portuguese as the official language," Thomashausen said, "and, for many young people as well as businessmen from the former colonies, Portugal today is the most important gateway to Europe."

In fact, Thomashausen said, Lusophony is part of Portugal's "raison d'etat."

In 1996, the Community of Portuguese Language Countries was founded. The CPLP encompasses the nine countries where Portuguese is the official language — from East Timor in Asia to Brazil in South America.

"The CPLP is now more important and functions better than the Francophonie of the French," Thomashausen said. "Portuguese diplomacy has achieved excellent results."

The CPLP was founded in Lisbon in 1996 with nine core member statesImage: Ricardo Stuckert/PR

'Historical and emotional'

Cardoso said Portugal's diplomatic, cultural and economic relations with its former colonies had developed relatively well. "More important than trade exchange for the Portuguese, however, is the historical and emotional dimension," Cardoso said.

"In Portugal, it is believed that a privileged cultural and political partnership with the Portuguese-speaking countries is indispensable," he said. "That was also the main motivation for the founding of the CPLP in 1996," he added. He said Portugal had also done much to process the negative aspects of its shared history with its former colonies.

This does not mean that all of the governments in the CPLP always see eye-to-eye; the war in Ukraine, for instance, has shown that there are divergent positions.

"The dividing lines on the Ukraine issue run through the Portuguese-speaking countries," Cardoso said. "Some African countries abstained from voting on UN resolutions condemning Russia's aggression, unlike Portugal."

Still, the overall impression half a century later is one of success. "People perform together, record albums together, organize joint parties and concerts or sports events, or publish books on transnational topics together," Cardoso said.

"Fifty years ago, in the turmoil of the Carnation Revolution, I would not have dared to dream that encounters — both in qualitative and quantitative terms — would develop so well."

Ngungunyane, a king against Portuguese occupation
01:39

Edited by: Sertan Sanderson

Antonio Cascais Antonio Cascais is an award-winning documentary filmmaker and investigative journalist.twitter.com/antoniocascais

Portugal’s Carnation Revolution, Fifty Years Later

By Boaventura de Sousa Santos

April 23, 2024

Source: Originally published by Z. Feel free to share widely.

For forty years I have been writing an article about each decade of the revolution of April 25, 1974 that brought democracy back to Portugal after 48 years of dictatorship. The analysis of interpretative or prospective priorities shows that over the years I have been faced with two resentments, one the major one, the other secondary. To both I have responded, without resentment, but with arguments and justification for political choices. I’m referring to resentment of the lost opportunity and resentment of the lost past. Over the course of this long period, the two resentments have changed their positions of relative prominence. The first resentment dominated in the first three decades and the second has dominated ever since.

There are two types of resentment: the historical-ideological and the interpersonal-intra-community. In both cases, what is at stake is emotions or feelings that dramatize damage considered unjust in an ethical-moral and therefore non-political way. They always involve the existence and celebration of victims. Both types of resentment demonize the aggressor and, in the case of historical-ideological resentment, repentance or reparation is much more difficult, if not impossible. In the resentments that abound in contemporary society, we find components of both types of resentment, but it is always possible to detect nuances and prevalences. In this text I’m dealing exclusively with historical-ideological resentment.

The resentment of the lost opportunity.

The revolution of April 25, 1974 unleashed two extraordinary political energies that were intertwined: democracy and socialism. After 48 years of dictatorship, democracy was at the heart of the revolution. It took place a few years after the student movement of 1968, which had its precursor in Coimbra in 1962, and a year after Pinochet’s coup against Salvador Allende’s democratic socialist regim . Of course, in Portugal, extremist positions did emerge in the socialist camp that didn’t want representative democracy because they considered it bourgeois; they were divided between supporters of the Soviet, Albanian or Chinese systems. The truly hegemonic idea was democratic socialism. It was enshrined in the 1976 Constitution and the very parties that are now right-wing considered themselves to be defenders of socialism. The idea of democratic socialism was inscribed in popular aspirations, even if it wasn’t clear what it consisted of. I remember that in 1980 – at the time I was liaising between the University of Coimbra and the Coimbra section of the captains’ Movement of the Armed Forces (MFA), led by Lieutenant General Franco Charais – the Rector asked me to visit Yugoslavia to learn about the self-managing socialist system, which was anti-Soviet but about which little was known, and to write a report about it. I spent a month in that country and also in Albania (for contrast), but when I returned the interest in socialism back home had waned.

In 1985, I wrote: “Portuguese society today lives in an atmosphere of reserved expectation. The last ten years have been the unfolding of a very complex process of social transformation whose implications are not yet fully visible. There are fears and, at the same time, hopes that the future will be different from the many recent pasts that have resulted in our uncertain present. Everything, or almost everything, began with April 25, 1974, undoubtedly the most significant event in our country’s contemporary history. To come to know in depth what happened then (and right afterwards) and why it so happened, is the key to understanding many of our questions today. It is therefore a challenge for social scientists and, in general, for all of us citizens committed to the historical development of our country […], to launch a scientific debate, looking back from this particular historical moment [1985], on this important date in our contemporaneity. It was indeed a rich and complex social process that has covered (deeply? superficially?) the Portuguese reality with development models and political plans, with action projects and programs for the future as so many threads of ruptures and continuities between the emerging society and the old society which went on resisting them with the strength of its years.” Democracy was not questioned, as it was seen as an unconditional and irreversibly acquired good, but socialism was already a long way off, replaced by its capitalist version – never mind the contradiction – of social democracy. The main topics of reflection were “culture and new ways of life; changes in the law and the administration of justice; the struggle for control of production; popular movements to improve living conditions”.

Almost thirty years later, in the midst of the financial-existential crisis that the intervention of the Troika (European Union-European Central Bank-International Monetary Fund) meant, I wrote on April 25, 2011: “We are living the darkest April 25 since the one that 37 years ago, like an unholy miracle, called out to us: get up and walk. And so we did, by leaps and bounds, overcoming challenges, falling into traps, until we reached these days when a strange god, because trinitarian but without grace, commands us: get down on your knees and crawl. It’s also a strange imperative, although not unprecedented in our history, because it offers us salvation in exchange for losing our souls.

We are witnessing the development of our country’s underdevelopment and apparently we are watching passively. As if the country were a distant place, inhabited by people we hardly know, for whom we have no special esteem and who certainly deserve the burden they have to carry. Listening to or reading some commentators gives the impression that they are Germans talking about our country. They dissect the national reality as if they were coroners, butchering the corpse as if they were not part of it. Others, the super-rich, whose money entitles them to a wealth of wisdom, declare themselves disgusted by poverty and miserable pensions, as if poverty were a sin of which their wealth is innocent. And almost all of them flagellate the country, as if the causes of our financial crisis weren’t systemic and therefore, in part, foreign to our action, however clumsy our action may have been. Self-flagellation is the bad conscience of passivity and it’s not easy to overcome it in a context where passivity, when it’s not wanted, is imposed. The arrival in Lisbon of the EU-ECB-IMF trinity symbolically constitutes a high-intensity activism that contrasts with our inability to act. We are being acted upon. Ours is only the name in which others act for the good that is only ours if it is also theirs. In order to act, we have to take our eyes off this landscape and walk in the dark for a few moments until we reach the back of it to see the scaffolding that supports it, observe the bustle that goes on there and identify the empty stretches waiting for our action. We don’t need captains, but we do need the lucidity and courage that some of them had 37 years ago to act without fearing the reactions of the markets or the ratings of the rating agencies.”

This text was part of a book, Portugal: ensaio contra a autoflagelação (Portugal: Essay against Self-flagellation) (Almedina 2012), which, although analytical, represented the end of the idea (and resentment) of the missed opportunity. From then on, another resentment would dominate.

The resentment of the lost past

The last decade has been characterized globally by the growth of the extreme right as a politically organized expression. In Portugal, its organization was later and we have come to attribute this to the strength of the 1974 Revolution. But last March’s elections showed that Portugal was not only not immune to this wave, but was riding it more boldly than other European countries. There are points of convergence both in the causes of this global phenomenon and in the forms it takes. The most common manifestations of the far right are: xenophobic and anti-immigrant nationalism; anti-system, which encompasses more than the political system and embraces social relations; racism and sexism; the idea that all use of power is abuse of power, except when it comes to the forces of repression and security, where all abuse of power is legitimate use of power; instrumental use of democracy with the subversion of the separation of powers and the progressive trivialization of violations of liberal democratic procedures; naturalization of social inequalities; minimal social protection state or only for “us” and strong repressive state and only for “them”.

In the Portuguese case, the extreme right takes the form of resentment of two lost pasts: colonialism, as an expression of greatness and civilization, and the Salazar dictatorship, as a time of order and expectations in line with the country’s limited possibilities. As we can see, these are two pasts based on two contradictory ideas of the country’s identity. One, invoking defiant grandeur, daring out of proportion to real possibilities, and therefore successful; the other, invoking mediocrity, humility, restraint, shrewdness in managing limitations, and therefore successful. It is typical of this type of resentment that the past, whatever it may have been, was better than the present. The contradictions only become apparent when you leave the world of resentment.

The revolution of April 25 implied a profound break with both pasts. The break with the colonial past was irreversible because, to a large extent, it didn’t depend on the Portuguese but on the anti-colonial liberation movements. Despite what colonialist resentment holds, relations with the ex-colonial world continued and diversified, but obviously purged of colonial violence and geared towards reciprocal and multilaterally established benefits. In turn, the break with the dictatorial past was also intended to be irreversible, not least because the fascist regime had placed its future in maintaining the colonies. But the irreversibility of democracy was always less certain than that of the end of colonialism, not only because it depended solely on the Portuguese, but also because it soon cut the umbilical cord with the socialism that supported it at the beginning. The question of irreversibility takes liberal democracy as a fixed and unequivocal entity, which is disproved by reality every day. What is an oyster shell worth without an oyster inside? What will democracy be if the majority of citizens vote for far-right parties that use democracy to get into power but, once in power, don’t use it or accept losing it democratically?

Both concerning the case of Portugal and the global phenomenon, it has been said that the new extreme right, unlike that of the last century, does not resort to one-party fascism. On a formal level this seems to be the case, but the reality is much more complex. The neoliberalism of the post-fall of the Berlin Wall is a new stage in the class struggle that aims to eliminate the relative distribution of wealth that the social struggles of the working classes have achieved at great cost over the last century. Like human rights, democracy has been celebrated at the same time as it has been emptied of material content in the concrete lives of families. Under current conditions, the political cost of eliminating social policies in a democracy is much lower than in a dictatorship. But no one can predict until when.

The other pillar of neoliberalism has been to globalize real political and financial power (centered on a small circle of dominant countries), while keeping democratic political conflicts at national level. This mismatch, combined with the control of media opinion, sophisticated surveillance policies and technological changes in the organization of work, has almost completely disarmed social struggles for a fairer society. If these struggles cannot be rebuilt, democracy itself will be disarmed without being eliminated. President Julius Nyerere of Tanzania once said that the USA was also a one-party regime, only with the specificity that there were two. Democracy, even if empty, is always better than dictatorship, but only for those who can benefit from it. And there are fewer and fewer of them. The masks of colonialist and fascist resentment hide the faces of simple, voiceless people who feel they have lost what little they had and have no hope of getting it back.

This year, more than in previous years, “what’s needed is to cheer people up”, to remember José Afonso. And to do this we need policies and governments that tackle resentment without resentment.

Boaventura de Sousa Santos is the emeritus professor of sociology at the University of Coimbra in Portugal.

Portugal marks 50 years of democracy with far right on rise

By AFP
April 24, 2024

A flower placed in a gun -- as depicted in a giant mural in Lisbon -- has become a symbol of Portugal's 1974 'Carnation Revolution'

- Copyright AFP PATRICIA DE MELO MOREIRA
Thomas CABRAL

Portugal marks Thursday 50 years since a military coup ended a decades-long dictatorship and 13 years of colonial wars in Africa, an anniversary that comes as a far-right party gains prominence.

The anniversary of the Carnation Revolution — named after the flowers protesters placed in soldiers’ guns during the peaceful uprising — comes a month after the far-right party Chega more than quadrupled its seats in parliament, cementing its position as Portugal’s third-largest party.

The highlight of the celebrations will be a military parade through central Lisbon featuring some of the roughly 5,000 soldiers who were part of the putsch, as well as around 15 restored military vehicles used on the day.

On April 25, 1974, the oldest authoritarian regime in Western Europe at the time fell within a matter of hours, virtually without bloodshed, thanks to an uprising by non-commissioned officers that was immediately backed by the public.

The coup paved the way for the country’s first free elections based on universal suffrage on April 25, 1975, as well as the independence of Portugal’s remaining African colonies: Angola, Mozambique, Guinea-Bissau and Cape Verde.

“The main motivation was to resolve the problem of the colonial wars” that had been going on for 13 years in Angola, and almost as long in Mozambique and Guinea-Bissau, said retired colonel Vasco Lourenco.

Lourenco, one of the officers who took part in the coup, now heads the April 25 Association that represents putschist soldiers.

As a young officer, he said it took almost a year to put together the “conspiracy” to carry out “a coup d’etat aimed at opening the way to freedom, putting an end to the wars and building democracy in Portugal”, he told AFP.

As it does every year, parliament will hold a special commemorative session and there will be a parade. And this year the heads of African states that were once Portuguese colonies will join the celebrations.

– ‘Poor, backward, illiterate’ –

Portugal’s dictatorship years began in 1926, consolidated under prime minister Antonio de Oliveira Salazar and continued from 1968 by his successor Marcelo Caetano.

Many Portuguese believed the country’s authoritarian past would offer it some protection from the rise of the far right, which has been seen elsewhere in Europe, but the breakthrough by Chega in a general election last month has dampened this view.

While its founder and leader Andre Ventura has criticised the dictatorship years, Chega (“Enough”) has used the slogan “God, Homeland, Family, Work” — an echo of the Salazar dictatorship’s “God, Homeland, Family”.

Set up in 2019, Chega promises greater law and order, tougher immigration measures and chemical castration for paedophiles.

It is the first hard-right party to gain ground on Portugal’s political scene since the end of the dictatorship.

“I thought that 48 years of dictatorship would have made the country immune to this wave of populism and radical far-right movements, but the reality turned out to be different,” said Maria Inacia Rezola, a historian who is overseeing the anniversary celebrations.

During the dictatorship Portugal remained “a poor, backward, illiterate country isolated from the rest of the world”, Rezola said.

Despite the fact that the Carnation Revolution still appears widely appreciated, a sizable part of the population express a certain nostalgia for the previous regime.

A survey published last week found that half of respondents said the former regime had more negative aspects than positive — but a fifth said the opposite.

Debate At UN Examines Impact Of Portugal’s ‘Carnation Revolution’

Friday, 26 April 2024,
Press Release: UN News

On 25 April 1974, military officers overthrew the nearly 50-year dictatorship in Portugal in a largely peaceful coup known as the Carnation Revolution.

Named after the flowers civilians stuffed in the muzzles of the soldiers’ guns, the revolution put Portugal on the path to democracy and led to the independence of its six remaining colonies, stretching from Africa to the Pacific, with ripple effects in Brazil – independent since 1822, but under military rule at the time.

UN Secretary-General António Guterres, a former Portuguese Prime Minister, argues that from a historical perspective, the uprising “should have occurred decades earlier.”

Reflection and analysis

Ahead of the 50th anniversary of the revolution, which is also known as 25 April, Mr. Guterres and UN Ambassadors from Portuguese-speaking countries sat down to reflect on its significance and implications today.

Participating in the debate were the Permanent Representatives of Angola, Brazil, Cabo Verde, Mozambique, Portugal and Timor-Leste. Their countries are all members of the Community of Portuguese Language Countries (CPLP), established roughly a decade after the revolution. Other members include Guinea-Bissau and the island nation of São Tomé and Príncipe.

UN News’s Portuguese team organized the high-level discussion, moderated by journalists Marta Moreira from Portugal and Felippe Coaglio from Brazil.

The debate will be broadcast by media outlets throughout the Lusophone world. Globally, roughly 250 million people speak Portuguese.

'On the right side of history'

Having experienced the events of the Carnation Revolution firsthand, Mr. Guterres declared that “being on the side of freedom against oppression” means being on the right side of history.

“It is clear that we are on the right side of history, freeing a country from dictatorship, and we are on the right side of history re-establishing justice in international relations after a colonial past that is unacceptable,” he said.

The UN chief declared that 25 April would not have occurred “without the struggle of the African liberation movements”. For him, “the two things are interconnected and that is why there is no cause-and-effect relationship”.

In this regard, Mr. Guterres noted that if there were any criticism of 25 April, it would be that “from a historical point of view, it should have happened decades earlier.”

Catalyst for independence

The Permanent Representative of Angola, Francisco José da Cruz, stated that the Carnation Revolution was of great importance to Angolans as it created the dynamics that led to the country's independence.

“Portugal's desire to move forward in this process became clearer when the Secretary-General of the United Nations, Kurt Waldheim, visited Portugal in August, and Portugal made it clear that this would be the path to follow and that the liberation movements would be the legitimate interlocutors in this process that would lead to independence,” he said.

Brazilian Ambassador Sérgio Danese said 25 April had two main impacts on South America’s largest country. The first was to show that “there was hope” for a path towards democratic rule once again and the second was in diplomacy.

“We had a very strong contradiction in our foreign policy. We recognized the independence of all former French, British and Dutch colonies, but we remained tied to Portuguese colonialism, and the 25th of April and its immediate consequences promptly freed us from that yoke," he recalled.

“We were the first country to recognize Angola. And then we were among the first to recognize each of the former Portuguese colonies,” he added.

A deep friendship

When asked what helped shape new relations between the Portuguese-speaking nations, the Ambassador of Cabo Verde, Tânia Romualdo, highlighted the relationship between their populations as the basis for the bond between the emerging States.

“This revolution made it possible not to begin, but to continue this deep friendship that united peoples,” she said. “There was a union there, a very strong friendship, that preceded the revolution itself which contributed to the revolution and which helped the decolonization process after 25 April to accelerate bilateral cooperation”.

Among the issues raised during the debate was how Portuguese-speaking countries have much in common, despite their different paths to democracy and nationhood.

Unity and fraternity

Ambassador Pedro Commissar of Mozambique highlighted how the Lusophone bloc is defined by ties of proximity and solidarity with the United Nations. Mozambique is currently the only Lusophone country on the 15-member UN Security Council, occupying one of the 10 seats allotted to non-permanent members.

“The CPLP is a totally different model from the Commonwealth or Francophonie model. It is a model of sovereign States but linked by a bond of deep fraternity. 25 April gave us that basis, that impulse so that today we have this affection that unites our countries,” he said.

On this issue, the Ambassador of Portugal, Ana Paula Zacarias, pointed to ongoing efforts on the diplomatic front to amplify their common voice, in Portuguese, at the UN. She emphasized that some of their common positions are already being heard in the General Assembly and the Security Council.

“Being heard means working together - and working together in areas that have already been identified,” she said. “Above all, we have a lot to do in political coordination, in coordinating security and defense issues which are currently fundamental. And everything that has to do with the fight against climate change.”

The Representative of Timor-Leste, Dionísio Babo Soares, spoke of reinforcement at an internal and external level to boost future action as a bloc in a world marked by complexities in politics and development.

“For Timor-Leste, the CPLP is an entry point to the world. Member countries are located in different parts of the world,” he said. Furthermore, efforts to reintroduce the Portuguese language in Timor-Leste are intensifiying.

“We work together with Portugal in this sense, and we are committed to moving forward with this programme of having Portuguese as the official language of the United Nations”.

‘Symbol of peace’

Looking to the future, Mr. Guterres characterized the cooperative relations that exist today between Portuguese-speaking countries as a “symbol of peace” that should inspire the world.

The Secretary-General expressed hope that the bloc “can play a decisive role in re-establishing the trust that has unfortunately been lost in our world, and in re-establishing the conditions that can allow us not only more peace but at the same time fairer development, respect for human rights and overcoming the dramatic divisions that today weigh on us all as a threat to the future of humanity.”

50 years of the Portuguese revolution

Europe’s oldest dictatorship was overthrown half a century ago today. Mike Phipps reviews The Carnation Revolution: The Day Portugal’s Dictatorship Fell, by Alex Fernandes, published by Oneworld.

APRIL 25, 2024

LABOUR HUB

“On 25 April 1974, a group of junior officers in the Portuguese armed forces led a military coup that, in a scant few hours, achieved the total surrender of the Portuguese government,” writes Alex Fernandes at the start of this riveting narrative. “In doing so they toppled the oldest dictatorship in Europe and ended a brutal colonial war that had raged for thirteen years on three fronts in Africa.”

It was the first day of what would be a protracted and turbulent revolution. But it was also the culmination of many failed rebellions and acts of resistance since a military dictatorship took control of the country 48 years earlier and proceeded to suppress all opposition with the utmost brutality, filling its prisons with thousands of political activists.

Fernandes highlights some of the resistance to the dictatorship, including daring prison escapes and the hijacking in 1961 of a commercial aircraft, whose pilot was ordered to fly low over Lisbon and other cities so that anti-dictatorship leaflets could be dropped onto the population below. Growing student unrest was another focus of political opposition. Its brutal repression would have a lasting effect on those who experienced it and constitute a tipping point.

The arrival of students from Portugal’s colonies also had a radicalising effect within the country’s universities. The army too began to change, as young men from a working class background joined. Men like Otelo Saraiva de Carvalho, later the leader of the Armed Forces Movement, saw it as a route to better opportunities, and got “a first glimpse of what life is like outside of a suffocating dictatorship.”

The anti-colonial struggle played a critical role in the lead-up to the Carnation revolution. In 1961, industrial action by cotton workers in Angola was met by aerial bombardment and a ground assault by the Portuguese military that left thousands dead. Riots and massacres followed and a full-scale colonial war ensued. A second front was opened in Guinea in 1963 by national liberation activists under the leadership of Amílcar Cabral. In 1964, FRELIMO opened a third front, launching their first offensive in the north of Mozambique. The army, made up of badly equipped, poorly fed young soldiers and directed by out of touch senior officers, began taking heavy casualties. By 1973, a significant majority of Portugal’s male population of ‘recruitable’ age was fighting in these conflicts.

Fernandes takes us through the growing opposition among junior military officers – “the captains” – the development of their political programme and the formulation of plans for a takeover. Meanwhile the more conservative General Spínola, himself no stranger to atrocities in Portugal’s colonies, begins to position himself as the nation’s saviour. He publishes a book that falls short of calling for independence for Portugal’s overseas territories, but nonetheless “sends shock waves through the military establishment.”

Days before the revolution, Spínola agrees to the Armed Forces Movement’s programme and agrees to join the incoming junta, if the seizure of power is successful. The hours leading up to this constitute a gripping narrative in the author’s hands. On the night of the coup, the head of the Army Cavalry School, 29-year old Salgueiro Maia, has his men woken from their beds and addresses them:

“Gentlemen, there are various kinds of state. Liberal states, social democratic states, socialist states, and so on. But none is as bad as the state we live under now! So, whoever wants to come with me, let’s go to Lisbon and end this son of a bitch of a situation. Opportunities to enter into the annals of history only arise once in life. Anyone who’s willing to join me, arm yourselves. Whoever doesn’t want to go can stay here.”

All 500 men volunteer enthusiastically. The same happens in military barracks across the country.

Lisbon wakes up to find the city occupied by the military, under the control of the Armed Forces Movement, with its programme being broadcast to the world. When a cleaner tells Salgueiro Maia, who has positioned his tanks on Lisbon’s main square, that she has to get to work urgently, she is confidently told: “Don’t worry – today, and every year going forward, 25 April will be a national holiday.”

As commanders still loyal to the regime find themselves outnumbered and their men refuse to battle the insurgents, resistance to the takeover crumbles quickly and thousands of civilians pour out onto the streets. Within hours, the soldiers are wearing carnations in their lapels and have placed them in the barrel of their guns – a clear indication of their peaceful intentions.

Realising the impossibility of the situation, Prime Minister Caetano calls General Spínola, who denies being involved with the conspiracy, and offers to transfer power to him, rather than ‘the streets’. The Armed Forces Movement leadership agree, rather than see bloodshed.

Blood is shed, however, outside the headquarters of the secret police, when a crowd that has assembled and chants “murderers” is met with a hail of bullets from the windows and balconies. Four are killed and over forty wounded.

With Caetano gone, the leadership of the Armed Forces Movement meets with General Spínola to discuss the political way forward. Spínola wants changes to the Movement’s programme, despite the fact that it has only recently been modified at his request. One officer responds: “Our armoured cars and troops are still all out on the streets. If it needs to, this coup will carry on.” The discussion is postponed while Spínola addresses the country.

In the days immediately following, “the signs of a new landscape for the working class begin to emerge,” suggests Fernandes. Workers in the Mague metallurgical plant in Alverca, the only workers on strike at the time of the coup, have their demands met at once by a management suddenly terrified of their workforce. A few days later, families occupy vacant properties in the Lisbon neighbourhood of Boavista and refuse to leave – followed by the occupation of thousands of empty, government-owned properties over the next few weeks amid the creation of residents’ commissions, particularly within the large shanty towns. In workplaces, the priority becomes the removal of managers tied to the old regime, a task carried out by emergent workers’ councils.

As agreed with the Armed Forces Movement, General Spínola dismisses vast swathes of the senior military and political hierarchy. Socialist and Communist exiles return and are included in the new government; new parties emerge. But friction remains between the Movement and Spínola over the issue of decolonisation. As strikes spread across the country, Spínola’s first Provisional Government, which wants to break the agreement to hold early elections to a Constitutional Assembly, collapses.

By September, Spínola is calling on the silent majority to “defend itself from the extremist authoritarians” – the communists. It’s a signal for the right to mobilise in force, but the Armed Forces Movement leadership out-mobilise and the counter-revolutionary demonstration is cancelled. Spínola resigns, denouncing the “general climate of anarchy”. Five months after he was originally meant to, General Francisco da Costa Gomes, the Movement’s choice, takes over as president. The decolonisation process accelerates.

On 11th March 1975, Portuguese Air Force planes and helicopters bomb and strafe the HQ of the 1st Light Artillery Regiment, a body that is staunchly loyal to the Armed Forces Movement. It’s the start of a counter-coup by former president Spínola, but it proves abortive. Tens of thousands take to the streets and his book, once a bestseller, is publicly burned. Rather than get bogged down in reprisals, the Revolution nationalises the banks and other major companies.

Constituency Assembly elections see the Socialists come top with 38% of the vote, the centrist Social Democrats second with 26% and the Communists third with 12%. Divisions within the left are sharpening, particularly between the established parties and militants on the ground, but also within the Armed Forces Movement itself.

The ‘Hot Summer’ of 1975 sees the extension of the Revolution into the countryside with the takeover of big farms – 10,000 square kilometres of estates in the Alentejo are confiscated. But in the more conservative north, where the Catholic Church remains highly influential, there is a backlash against the left, with 200 attacks on Communist centres in particular.

By late autumn, it’s clear that “Lisbon has become the Red Commune, ungoverned and ungovernable,” as Fernandes puts it. Many moderate leaders relocate to the north, where the situation is less anarchic. “In a country paralysed by a year and a half of strike action, the government follow suit,” refusing to continue performing its duties until the president can guarantee the conditions in which to do them. With significant unrest within the military, a state of emergency is declared within Lisbon and on November 25th the radical army units threatening a takeover are forced to surrender.

It’s a triumph for the moderates and a routing of the revolutionaries. The militant armed wing of the Movement is dissolved and Otelo de Carvalho stripped of power. The Revolution is effectively over.

But its legacy endures – to an extent. Many of its reforms bear similarities to the Popular Unity movement in Chile (1970-1973), but unlike the latter, the Portuguese Revolution was not drowned in blood. It had a profound impact on neighbouring Spain, whose transition to democracy began just as the Portuguese Revolution came to an end.

“Portugal also fulfilled its pledge to grant full independence to its colonial territories,” noted one analyst recently. “There were no attempts to establish a system of neocolonial rule which could have allowed the country to maintain political influence, or to grant Portuguese businesses control over sectors of the economy in former colonies.”

The constitution that was adopted in Portugal in 1976 was radical and the Socialists topped the poll in the first free legislative elections in half a century. Through the 1980s, however, most of the nationalisations were overturned and Portugal became a conventional, capitalist, European liberal democracy. Today the country is subject to the same political trends as elsewhere in Europe, including the resurgence of the extreme right. This has specifically Portuguese characteristics, including nostalgia for the years of dictatorship and empire.

“In the wake of the right’s resurgence, and the revolution’s contested legacy, it might be tempting to accuse the revolution of failing to live up to its own ideals. But this is a fatal mistake,” concludes Fernandes. “The Portugal of 1976 was undoubtedly, in a million distinct ways, better than the Portugal of 1973. The revolution killed, decisively, two of the most vicious elements of Portuguese history – the centuries-long colonial project, and the vile carceral apparatus that kept the population under the regime’s boot for nearly five decades. For women, for workers, for immigrants, for the poor, for the masses – things are better.”

For its pacy narrative and evocative detail, this book is the best account I have read of the Revolution, particularly recommended for new readers with little knowledge of these events. The memory of the Portuguese Revolution needs to be kept alive, to show what is possible when people decide to challenge even the harshest political regimes in the most difficult conditions.

Mike Phipps’ book Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow: The Labour Party after Jeremy Corbyn (OR Books, 2022) can be ordered here.

Jane McAlevey on UAW’s Astounding Victory in VW Tennessee & Her Fight Against Cancer

By Jane McAlevey, Amy Goodman April 24, 2024

Source: Democracy Now!

Democracy Now! speaks with the celebrated labor organizer and writer Jane McAlevey about the historic victory for Volkswagen employees at a Chattanooga, Tennessee, factory who voted overwhelmingly to join the United Auto Workers union. The plant will become the first foreign-owned car factory in the South to unionize. “This win wasn’t just a win — it was what we would call a beatdown,” says McAlevey, who says the UAW’s recent success is a result of direct democracy and smart, strategic organizing that could lead to the unionizing of Mercedes workers in Alabama. “It’ll be a massive change in the U.S. South.” We also speak with McAlevey about her terminal cancer diagnosis and why she’s “going to fight until the last dying minute, because that’s what American workers deserve.”

More Than 4 Dozen Unions Demand ‘End of Repression’ of Columbia Protests

By Julia Conley

April 24, 2024

Source: Common Dreams

Image by Tariq Kenney-Shawa

More than four dozen labor unions across numerous industries on Tuesday signed a letter expressing solidarity with students who have been suspended and arrested in recent days for protesting at Columbia University, including members of the on-campus labor group Student Workers of Columbia.

Unionized student workers in SWC-UAW 2710 were among the hundreds of picketers who have been protecting the Gaza Solidarity Encampment, which students set up at Columbia on April 17 to pressure administrators to divest from weapons manufacturers, tech companies, and other entities that benefit from Israel’s apartheid policies in the occupied Palestinian territories.

The Ivy League institution, protesters say, will remain complicit in Israel’s bombardment and blockade on Gaza, the killing of at least 34,183 Palestinians in the enclave since October, and the intentional starvation of dozens of people, until it entirely divests from Israel.

“As workers, we stand in solidarity with our union siblings in SWC-UAW 2710 who were arrested and face suspension,” said the unions, including the Mother Jones Staff Union, Irvine Faculty Association, and Cleveland Jobs With Justice. “We call for their and their classmates’ immediate reinstatement and for Columbia to drop all charges against them, both legal and academic. We deplore [Columbia president Minouche Shafik]’s actions and call for Columbia to immediately end the repression of protest.”

The protests at Columbia—where more than 100 students were suspended, arrested for trespassing, and in some cases, evicted from their housing—have galvanized college students and faculty members at a growing number of universities in recent days.

Campus groups at the University of Minnesota and the University of Pittsburgh both announced early Tuesday that they were setting up their own encampments in solidarity with Columbia students and victims of the Israel Defense Forces’ relentless attacks on Gaza, which the International Court of Justice said in January was “plausibly” a genocide.

After police arrested students at the University of Minnesota Tuesday afternoon and broke up the encampment, thousands of members of the school community rallied to demand that the university divest from all arms manufacturers.

Encampments were also erected Monday at University of California, Berkeley and University of Michigan.

Jessica Christian, a photojournalist for the San Francisco Chronicle, reported that students were stopping to “ask what supplies the campers need as they walk by to class” at Berkeley, where roughly 50 tents were set up on Tuesday.

On Monday night, dozens of students at Yale University and New York University were arrested for protesting, setting up encampments, and “disorderly conduct.”

The arrests at Columbia last week have not stopped students and educators from speaking out against the administration. A new encampment was set up last Friday and hundreds of faculty members staged a walkout Monday in support of the students.

In their letter, the unions on Tuesday warned that “the repression and criminalization of activists, students, professors, and academic workers across the country are violations of our elementary rights to free speech and protest.”

“The right to protest is necessary for every struggle, and the direct attack on this right is an attack on labor as well,” said the unions, “An injury to one is an injury to all—if the Columbia students can be repressed for protesting, Columbia workers and all workers could be too. Workers stand in full solidarity with this student movement.”

LA REVUE GAUCHE - Left Comment