It’s possible that I shall make an ass of myself. But in that case one can always get out of it with a little dialectic. I have, of course, so worded my proposition as to be right either way (K.Marx, Letter to F.Engels on the Indian Mutiny)
Saturday, February 08, 2025
How Philly Whole Foods Workers Beat Bezos
"People need hope and the best place to find it is in your coworkers"
Can labor sustain its forward momentum under Trump? The first big test came last Monday, when Whole Foods workers in Philadelphia voted on whether to unionize with the United Food and Commercial Workers (UFCW). Many in the labor movement were expecting a loss, since MAGA is now in office and since management — headed by Trump’s new billionaire buddy Jeff Bezos — went scorched earth against the nascent union effort. But a multiracial crew of young, self-organized, left-leaning workers proved the skeptics wrong, as so often has been the case since 2021.
Despite intense management intimidation, workers voted for the union 130-100. Given that Trump’s chaotic power grabs dominated the headlines last week, it would be easy to underestimate the momentousness of the result: this was only the second time American workers have ever defeated Amazon in a union election. (The first was the Amazon Labor Union’s April 2022 win at the JFK8 warehouse on Staten Island.) By beating Bezos, these Whole Foods workers have given the labor movement a much needed shot in the arm.
To find out how these young workers took on the most powerful corporation in the world, I spoke with Ed Dupree, an eight-year Whole Foods employee who helped lead the drive.
Q: Can you describe the moment when you realized you’d won the election?
We were crammed into a small conference room to watch the votes get counted — just a handful of us lead organizers and UFCW reps — alongside nearly every level of management from our store, corporate, and even global. I think the Whole Foods vice president and someone else from higher up were there too. Watching them get increasingly nervous as more votes came in was an incredible feeling.
When the final votes were counted, it was an overwhelming moment. As soon as it became clear we’d won, a few of us — me, my buddy Mace, another organizer Jack, and one or two others — left the office and headed down to one of our coolers on the main floor to celebrate.
We were high-fiving and cheering and one of my co-workers actually started crying. After so much stress — being harassed, seeing our coworkers turned against us — winning felt like a thread of positivity in the face of so much negativity in the company and in the country. It was an incredible high.
Q: Can you share a little about your background and the main reasons you all unionized?
A: I’ve been working at Whole Foods for eight years in the produce department. I’m just a regular team member — I work the sales floor, handling receiving, breaking down pallets, and staging products.
As far as our issues, the main thing everyone felt strongly about was getting better pay, benefits, health care, and workplace protections, particularly for older employees and those with disabilities. And putting an end to coworkers getting harassed so much.
Q: How did the organizing drive begin?
A: It started when a longtime coworker of mine mentioned a new hire, Ben, who had only been there for two weeks but was already talking about forming a union. Since I’d been involved in a previous union campaign during the pandemic and often talked about labor issues, my coworker suggested I go talk to him.
At first, I was skeptical. I thought, “Who is this guy? He’s coming in way too hot. Is he a plant from the company?” But when I finally spoke with Ben, I realized he was serious and sincere. And I thought, “Hell yeah, let’s do this.”
That was about two years ago. We started talking to coworkers, many of whom already knew me because I’d been around for a long time. Some of them had also been part of our previous attempt to unionize. With them, it was just about reconnecting and seeing how they felt about organizing again.
Then we started by having conversations more broadly with other co-workers, hearing what their main issues were and gauging their interest in forming a union. We created a system to track support — rating the support of our co-workers, with ones being core organizers involved in our organizing committee and fours being totally anti-union. Initially, we had about 15-20 percent support, but within a few months, we were up to 30 percent. Ben was great with charts, with stuff like Excel, while I was better at talking to people.
Q: Since you were organizing before affiliating with an established union, how did you know what to do?
A: I had done some door-knocking for the Bernie 2020 campaign and local political campaigns. I’ve also read some labor history — Eugene Debs, the Industrial Workers of the World, that sort of thing. Also, Ben is in Philly Democratic Socialists of America and knew some EWOC [Emergency Workplace Organizing Committee] guys. So EWOC gave five of us at the store a training in organizing fundamentals: they gave us good feedback and resources, organizing pointers, and a good baseline understanding of how to talk to people who weren’t already on board, all that.
Q: Was it difficult to convince people to support the union?
A: Not at first, since I already knew so many people at work, we were cool. The hardest part was talking to employees I didn’t know well. Our store has high turnover, and about 10-15 percent of the workforce just sees it as a real temporary job. When I’d talk to them, at first, a bunch would be like “What are you talking about, bro?”
But once we hit around 30 percent support, we started working with the UFCW, and they really wanted us to get at least 70 percent signing cards before filing for a union election. We didn’t get exactly there, but by the time we did eventually file, we had almost 60 percent support. So it took a lot of conversations with people, and lots of the time we’d have to double back to folks we weren’t as confident about.
Q: It seems like management went really hard to stop you all. What did that look like?
At first, management didn’t take us seriously. But by October [2024], when they realized how much support we had, things changed. The good thing for us was that by that time we’d already canvassed over 50 percent of the store.
For a while in November they tried the “velvet glove” approach—they were really sweet, offering candy, constantly asking us how we were doing. Then in late December and early January, they cranked it up to eleven. Ever since, it’s been wild, just super intense union-busting. They held [captive audience] team “chats,” where they’d tell us the most insane anti-union bullshit you could ever imagine. Just flagrant lies.
They also got rid of most of our team leads [managers] and brought in new ones from other stores and from out of state to intimidate us. They brought in some lady from Florida to union bust, she’d always be surveilling me and dead-on staring at me during my shift, as I’m literally just stacking apples.
One of the most egregious things they did was fire a strong union supporter on a bogus pretext even though he was a model employee. They also started writing people up for tiny infractions, they bribed anti-union employees, and they set up a big-ass TV near our time clock just to play anti-union propaganda. In the lead up to the vote, they started pulling people straight from the sales floor into the team leads office to tell us to vote No.
Q: Were you personally scared?
A: I always understood the risks, so I wasn’t scared—more just baffled by how ridiculous some of their union-busting tactics were. These guys are clowns, honestly it was kind of surreal. But also they targeted Ben way more than they targeted me. I think part of that was because I’d been there so long and had lots of strong relationships with coworkers. But I also do low-key think it was a bit of a racist thing — I’m a big black dude, and they didn’t seem to want to confront me directly. So they didn’t fuck with me, but they would fuck with Ben. They tried to smear him, there was lots of character assassination and spreading rumors that he was a paid UFCW plant. But he wouldn’t let them scare him.
Q: Do you see this as part of a larger national effort to unionize Whole Foods?
A: Definitely. We took a lot of inspiration from what Starbucks has done. And we saw the need for militancy from UAW folks like Shawn Fain as well as what the Teamsters did at UPS to get strike ready. That all gave us an understanding of the scale we need to be operating on to get a first contract, and it influenced our decision to go with UFCW instead of going independent.
We know it’s going to take more than just our store, but winning this vote has been inspiring for others, and we’re ready to support them. Some Whole Foods stores were already organizing before last Monday, and ever since then, we’ve had a bunch more people reach out to us over our Instagram account. We’re talking to all of them, to give them an understanding of what we did to win, and also what to expect from management — to inoculate them against all the bullshit that they’ll throw at them.
We know what management is going to do. And now there are a lot of Whole Foods workers that want to do what we’re doing.
Q: With Trump now in office, do you think the movement can sustain itself? Lots of progressives seem to have fallen into despair.
Like you mentioned, people are at a point of despair and uncertainty, with a lot of negativity surrounding them. It’s important to remind them that while the government and electoral politics matter, real power comes from working-class people organizing — starting in their own workplaces. At work we have collective power, so that’s where we need to start turning things around.
Even with a piss-poor NLRB [National Labor Relations Board] coming into office, history has shown that workers have organized under far worse conditions, when there was no NLRB at all and when labor organizers were being killed left and right. Despite the challenges, people need hope, and the best place to find it is in your coworkers, the people you spend 20, 30, or 40 hours a week alongside.
Even in difficult and chaotic times, workplace organizing doesn’t stop. The Amazon union effort began during Trump’s first term, and the Starbucks union movement emerged during the pandemic, right? We need to remind people that workplace organizing continues no matter who’s in office and no matter how chaotic things get. Unionization is the best way we can empower ourselves and our coworkers: even when things seem bleak, we can reclaim our influence over our lives and make a real impact. We’ve shown at our store how this can happen. And anybody else can do it too
Ed Dupree An eight-year Whole Foods employee who helped lead the drive to unionize in Philidelphia.
Western-Backed NGOs: A Hollow Version of Civil Society
Donald Trump’s moves to dismantle USAID clearly aren’t driven by fears of infringing on other nations’ sovereignty. Still, we should recognize that Global South NGOs’ reliance on Western donors hinders the growth of self-sustaining civil societies.
Photo from US Embassy New Zealand (Flickr, Public domain)
Among the executive orders rushed out the day President Donald Trump took office was one ordering a ninety-day pause to all foreign aid, to assess “programmatic efficiencies and consistency with United States foreign policy.” Which, the order helpfully clarified, is the president’s foreign policy.
It contains an intriguing line: “[The United States foreign aid industry and bureaucracy] serve to destabilize world peace by promoting ideas in foreign countries that are directly inverse to harmonious and stable relations internal to and among countries.” This language echoes a complaint by Republican senators during Trump’s first term about US embassies and the US Agency for International Development (USAID) meddling in politics and promoting progressive causes to the dismay of locals in the Balkans, Latin America, and Africa. US foreign aid, this 2017 letter argued, was “disrespecting national sovereignty and civil society” and “fomenting unrest.”
It’s hard to imagine Trump is moved by genuine concern about the sovereignty and democratic self-determination of states in the Global South. This week’s moves to dismantle USAID clearly aren’t driven by fears of infringing on other nations’ authentic civil-society development. Trump’s nakedly transactional approach to foreign policy leaves little room for respect for what he has referred to as “shithole countries.”
The distorting and destabilizing aspects of foreign funding of developing countries’ civil society and politics are real, however — and increasingly glaring. If someone wanted to inquire earnestly into how foreign aid affects civil society, democracy, and sovereignty, and think honestly about what it all ultimately comes down to — money and power — there is a way to do it.
Money, after all, is never “just money.” It is the purest distillate of power. It sets things in motion, invisibly, like a magnet moving under a plate of iron filings. This realization makes a lot of people uncomfortable.
This discomfort turned to outrage when an Austrian scioness of one of Europe’s great industrial families, Marlene Engelhorn, decided she would give away nearly all of the $27 million she was to inherit from her grandmother. Engelhorn had done her homework. She had volunteered with anti-poverty groups, founded the “tax me now” movement, studied radical thinkers, and written a book titled Money, in which she laid out how money equals power — and how it was unjust that she should happen to be handed so much of both.
Going down the usual philanthropic route would mean using her power, not reducing it. She would not be another Bill Gates or George Soros, deploying their vast fortunes to pursue their own ideas of what ails the world and how to fix it, creating entire countries’ NGO sectors from scratch, micromanaging them with armies of program officers, and, as the ultimate prize, capturing policymaking in the countries targeted by their munificence. She would not even be a MacKenzie Scott (formerly Bezos), shedding her billions rapidly as multimillion-dollar surprise gifts without strings attached to well-established progressive institutions chosen by a council of high-end advisors.
Engelhorn would not wield her power but relinquish it. Not only would she return her money to society, from where, she had concluded, it had been extracted in the first place. She announced she would let society decide to whom her money would be redistributed, through randomly selected citizen assemblies.
Cue an outburst from Austrian polite society, squirming with resentment: Why does Engelhorn hate the success of the hard-working and talented? Why couldn’t she just join a political party to express her views? Why does such a young woman hog the limelight with her extravagant and dangerous ideas? What’s wrong with being a patron of the arts, like normal rich people?
A German proverb goes, “One doesn’t speak about money, one owns it.” But the outrage Engelhorn faced wasn’t because she had done the gauche thing of speaking about money. She had broken a much more fundamental taboo: saying out loud that money — always, inevitably, inherently — equals power. Transparent Funding and “Foreign Agents”
Unregulated money in politics hollows out our democracies from the inside. The 2024 US elections made this painfully obvious. The warnings had been loud and clear ever since the Supreme Court’s Citizens United ruling in 2010. Democracy has been brought to the brink; some would argue, beyond. Not because Donald Trump won, but because both major parties are thoroughly and openly, even proudly, beholden to big donors.
Alarm at money in politics is not limited to the United States. In 2021, Austrians were part shocked, part grimly amused by the discovery that Thomas Schmid, a senior political appointee in the Ministry of Finance, had texted tax officials the memorable line “Don’t forget, you are the whore of the rich” when urging favorable treatment for a politically connected entrepreneur. Soon more evidence surfaced: in return for convenient laws and pliable judicial appointees, the country’s big businesses had offered political donations and lucrative seats on company boards. In another chat, the formidable moral philosopher Schmid said something we all know: “He who pays the piper calls the tune.”
Money and power are inseparably connected, and money flowing from powerful interest groups therefore needs to be publicized, thoroughly scrutinized, and regulated. We know this. But we do not apply this knowledge when we funnel our money into the NGOs and political systems of the Global South.
Citizens United told a tale that unlimited and nontransparent money flowing into politics is an indispensable component of freedom of speech. Immediately and intuitively, we understand how problematic this is: how this interpretation twists the concepts of freedom and speech beyond recognition, weaponizing them for powerful interests.
Similarly, when an advisory opinion of the Venice Commission, the Council of Europe’s constitutional law advisors, in its analysis of the “Law on Transparency of Foreign Influence” recently adopted by the Republic of Georgia argues that requiring NGOs to disclose foreign financing violates freedom of association, our ears should prick up. It should be obvious that this interpretation takes freedom of association into uncharted territory. After all, foreign funding for NGOs touches on fundamental questions about democracy and sovereignty, about power and who can be held accountable for how it is wielded.
The regulatory purpose of freedom of association, one of the classic liberal civil rights, is to limit the power of the state, by creating protected spaces for people to come together and pool their action and resources to pursue their political, cultural, and social objectives. Because it defines the relationship between citizens and the state, freedom of association, like most other civil rights, was not conceived as transnational. It was never, and is not now, meant to enable transnational financial flows and to keep them as secret as possible, regardless of whether this might erode a country’s sovereignty.
It should make us think twice that this new interpretation by the Venice Commission (echoed by the United Nations and other international organizations) defines financial flows from rich, powerful countries into poor, developing countries as a “right” and does not pay any heed to the enormous discrepancy of power between donor and recipient countries. Significantly, the Supreme Court of India has pointedly declined such an interpretation: “Receiving foreign donations cannot be an absolute or even a vested right.”
The discussion about “foreign agent” laws, which regulate the financing of NGOs from abroad, has often been led dishonestly, at the very least superficially and with distortions. During the most recent controversy around such a law in Georgia in spring 2024, a whole phalanx of European representatives issued full-throated warnings about how the law would violate EU norms. But nonprofit organizations explicitly do not fall into the regulatory competence of the EU: there is no EU norm the Georgian law could violate. The Beam in Our Own Eye
Above all, the West does not see the beam in its own eye. For more than twenty years, Western governments and foundations have claimed a majority stake in Georgia’s political and social developments: in a country that received some of the highest per capita foreign aid for years and has been on the path of EU integration for a decade, foreign donors and international financial institutions have long dictated laws and reforms, and even opened offices right inside ministries, where they also top up officials’ salaries. Academics’ income often depends on foreign grants; in fact, entire universities do. The NGO sector, which is virtually all foreign-funded, forms the largest part of Georgia’s middle class and generates many of the political ideas and much of the mobilization that opposition parties rely on. Practically all media that styles itself “independent” is foreign-funded, some or all of it coming from governments. This has unfolded quite openly and for much of that time with the enthusiastic collaboration of Georgian decision-makers and elites.
But by 2020, this arrangement was beginning to show cracks. Under the ruling Georgian Dream party, Georgia might have excelled at adopting the technocratic reforms prescribed by its Western partners, but the latter nevertheless tried to squeeze Georgian Dream out of power. First partially, via a power-sharing scheme devised by the EU; then, after Russia’s 2022 invasion of Ukraine, increasingly urgently; and finally, before elections in October 2024, openly so. Throughout, Western governments kept funding a powerful and vocal group of partisan NGOs that variously called for sanctioning, ousting, or toppling the government. So in spring 2023, the Georgian government first introduced a law that would oblige foreign-funded NGOs to disclose their finances. After a year of intermittent, large-scale protests, it was adopted.
Once the Georgian government started to push back against the foreign hold on the country’s NGOs, media, policymaking, and politics, it faced shrill accusations of secret pacts with Russia and being under Vladimir Putin’s influence — never mind the lack of evidence.
This double standard is barely ever acknowledged and never questioned, since according to a tacit consensus, the West is in the influence game only because we want what’s best for Georgia and would never seek any advantage from “protecting Georgian democracy” and promoting “reforms” (shorthand for a wide range of legal and political changes favored by foreign partners instead of the electorate). Foreign influence and the erosion of sovereignty are all good, as long as it’s us doing it.
Our discussion of foreign agent legislation around the world also picks an odd and arbitrary starting point — decades too late. Russia’s first “foreign agent law,” passed in fall 2012, is often portrayed as the spark that set off a global trend. This conveniently amplifies the narrative du jour of the axis of autocracy, never mind the inaccuracy. Because even if we count only laws that regulate the NGO sector and not other forms of foreign influence, we find that such laws have been adopted since the 1990s in dozens of very different states around the world: 1991 in Mozambique, 2001 in Ireland, 2009 in Egypt, 2010 in India, and 2011 in Israel. Help With Drafting Laws
For over twenty years, during late nights at my computer, in donors’ conference rooms in New York or Brussels, and, in my happiest moments, in grassroots groups’ unheated basement offices in Odesa or Bishkek, I fought what felt like a valiant battle on the turf of civil-society promotion, money, and repression: I wrote hundreds of grant applications for and with NGOs, and I lobbied foundations, embassies, and aid agencies on behalf of grassroots activists. Then I watched, again and again, how the money I had secured would enable these activists to do good work yet simultaneously entrap them in a vicious cycle of material and psychological dependence and the political repression that descended on them precisely because their work was funded by foreigners. And then, I tried to mobilize against that fallout too.
In 2016, I took part in an international women’s rights conference, where we talked about the “shrinking space.” At the time, that term was being circulated — in appropriately somber tones, eyes wide with alarm — around the global NGO scene and stood for a supposedly new and especially malignant threat to upright activists like us. My boss at the time, who had been in the wars (figuratively and also literally, working in conflict zones) and led a women’s organization more than a hundred years old, stated dryly: “This problem suddenly acquired a name when donors found they could no longer wire money abroad.” Yet the “shrinking space” discourse made it sound novel and unheard of that activists — people who rattle the foundations of power — face pressure from the powerful. Or as if governments and foundations wiring money wherever they pleased was some blissful, virtuous state of nature, which was now coming to an unfair end.
After World War II, in parallel to decolonization, NGOs — tellingly, “nongovernmental organizations” — rose slowly but unstoppably to become one of the main players in international development aid, because donor countries did not trust the (Third World) state with social and economic agendas. Initially, this attitude came from a place of earnest people-to-people solidarity, but it soon developed explicitly neoliberal side effects. And since it was the Cold War, NGOs operating in developing countries were routinely co-opted by Western security services. This did long-term damage to the reputation of NGOs around the world, in almost all cases unjustly.
After the end of the Cold War, interest in NGOs as vehicles of development aid and reforms went through the roof. In some African countries, the share of development aid spent on NGOs rose from 1 to 20 percent in two decades.
In the postcommunist states in between Eastern Europe and Central Asia, the West initially tried to shape political processes directly, and for a while local governments were all for it. But within a few short years, politicians and political parties turned out to be recalcitrant, unwieldy investment objects, arguably because unlike NGOs, they have autonomous power bases in (parts of) the population as well as significant local resources under their control. Donors’ appetite for direct support of political institutions soon waned, while the financing of NGOs increased massively.
Concurrently, the institution of NGOs underwent a dramatic transformation, more rapidly and profoundly in developing countries and especially the former Soviet Union than in the West. Western legislative traditions going back to the nineteenth century reflected the classic civil right of freedom of association and thus provided a regulatory framework for associations in the literal sense: people coming together as members of a club or union, taking action primarily through members’ volunteer activities to benefit each other or the common good, funded by default by membership fees. The NGOs that Western governments finance with their development aid budgets look nothing like this, but more like start-ups run by social entrepreneurs. Instead of members and volunteers, they have bosses and employees organized in strict hierarchies, and hard borders separate those who build lucrative careers managing NGOs from those who benefit from their assistance.
These NGOs serve as technical contractors for development-aid agencies and are often deliberately deployed as political actors, to consult ministries, draft laws, lobby their own and foreign governments, take over core state tasks (though often poorly and unevenly), and support political parties and get involved in election campaigns. All while being financed primarily or exclusively from abroad, with money that largely comes from governments — not, as is often suggested, from private citizens scraping together a few thousand dollars or euros in small donations to send to a village in Moldova, where it will pay for Meals on Wheels for the elderly. This example is taken from real life, but it represents a rare exception in the development aid industry.
Donors like to draw a purely altruistic picture of their funding activities, as if all they ever wanted was to alleviate suffering in Georgia, Moldova, or Malawi, or to reward the “vibrant civil society” that had already existed there authentically, leaving it up to local activists what they would spend the money on. But in reality, deploying NGOs for explicitly political action has long been viewed as the pinnacle of foreign grant-making — the most exalted discipline for the most eminent players, yielding the biggest bang for their buck. Donors view drafting laws and getting them adopted and implemented as the most effective means for leading the societies of the Global South out of their (as they mutter behind the closed doors of the foreign-aid-industrial complex: “self-inflicted”) chronic crisis.
None of this is a secret. Calls for proposals routinely announce quite openly that the projects submitted should aim to get this new law passed or that reform adopted. Once an NGO has won a grant, it may be obliged per the grant contract to get five new laws enacted. This example too is taken from real life. A Different Civil Society
Resistance against the outsize influence of foreign-funded NGOs began to stir around the world decades before Russia’s notorious foreign agent law. Over the last fifteen years, more and more such laws have been passed. Initially it was in countries that had long been recipients of foreign aid, but in recent years it has happened in wealthy, Western countries too.
Comparisons of the foreign-influence laws of Western states and those of the Global South are often shushed with the argument that such laws in the West are about something else entirely, namely resisting hybrid warfare by Russia or China. We in the West would never, ever dream of limiting foreign funding of NGOs. But that is easily said, since NGOs in Western states receive hardly any foreign funding. Societies make laws only once a problem demanding regulation appears; where there is no problem, there won’t be a law regulating it. The Maldives have no law on mountain rescue operations, and Mongolia has no law on deep-sea fishing.
As it happens, even the era of hypothetical Western openness to transnational funding of our NGOs is nearing its end. Since last year, the European Commission has been hammering out a new directive on “transparency of interest representation carried out on behalf of third countries,” which explicitly includes NGOs as the carriers of such “interest representation.” The United Kingdom and Canada have similar draft bills in the works. Famously in the United States, a law obliging representatives of foreign interests to register has been on the books since 1938: the Foreign Agents Registration Act (FARA).
American democracy-promotion professionals assert with sincere conviction that FARA is nothing at all like those foreign agent laws in Russia, Georgia, or India — that NGOs in the United States would never be pestered with tawdry accusations of working for foreign interests. But the US Department of Justice has been handling this matter quite differently for some time: already in 2020, it found that an American environmental NGO had become a “general contractor” of the Norwegian Agency for Development Cooperation via a grant contract, and that since its actions would influence “any section of the public within the United States,” it was indeed an “agent” of a foreign principal and therefore obliged to register under FARA. The NGO subsequently registered under FARA, if under protest.
Clearly, we are entering an era of increased caution regarding all forms of foreign funding, anywhere in the world. What will be the consequences for the NGO sector? In the West hardly any, since foreign funding of NGOs is negligible. In countries like Georgia, however, where NGOs funded from abroad have turned the political economy and social structures on their head, the end of foreign funding of NGOs would be a major seismic event.
Here some ask, concerned: Can NGOs survive this? It is the wrong question, resting on wrong assumptions. Where is it written that the NGO sector in its current form represents the only possible and simultaneously the best possible civil society in this or that country?
Without foreign grant funding, the majority of NGOs in the Global South would not exist at all. Some groups and movements might have taken radically different forms had such funding not been available. They would have had to rely far more on support from their own population and on the latter’s volunteering and donations, and therefore would have had to listen far more to their fellow citizens and center their concerns in their missions. Or to win the public over to their causes, they would have had to explain their ideas and their work far better. Probably both. Without foreign financing, the NGO sector would have never generated a high-earning, aloof upper class, similar to that of investment bankers and management consultants in the West.
To give an example: in the last decade, a provincial city branch of the famous, Nobel Prize–winning Russian human rights organization Memorial began defending the social rights of disadvantaged groups in court instead of pursuing only its original mission, the documentation of Stalin-era crimes. “Before we can speak to people about the injustices of the past, we must enable them to enjoy justice in the here and now,” their young director told me.
This new focus of their work proved so popular that the organization could increasingly rely on local donations. The elderly board members, who had handed the reins to the new director a few years earlier, added, “In our day, we were very good at writing grant proposals to foreign donors, but we weren’t able to do what this young generation does.” Might things have gone differently for the Russian human rights movement if it had been compelled to turn to its fellow citizens already in the 1990s?
The NGO sector as it currently exists in the Global South and the EU’s periphery — almost entirely foreign-funded, simultaneously bloated and deficient — belongs to the global order of the post–Cold War unipolar moment. That global order is now cracking at the seams. NGOs are no Siberian tigers, worthy of conservation for their own sake. Having realized that, we should not frantically shore up vested interests, but earnestly try to let better, more sustainable, and locally anchored forms of civil society take shape.
Almut Rochowanski is an activist specializing in resource mobilization for civil society in the former Soviet Union. Her writing on this subject appears on her Substack, Discomfort Zone.
Trump’s Balance-of-Payments War on the Whole World
The 1940s saw a series of movies with Bing Crosby and Bob Hope, starting with the Road to Singapore in 1940. The plot was always similar. Bing and Bob, two fast-talking con men or song-and-dance partners, would find themselves in a scrape in some country, and Bing would get out of it by selling Bob as a slave (Morocco in 1942, where Bing promises to buy him back) or committing him to be sacrificed in some pagan ceremony, and so forth. Bob always goes along with the plan, and there’s always a happy Hollywood ending where they escape together – with Bing always getting the girl.
In the past few years we have seen a series of similar diplomatic stagings with the United States and Germany (standing in for Europe as a whole). We could call it the Road to Chaos. The United States has sold out Germany by destroying Nord Stream, with Germany’s Chancellor Olaf Scholtz (the hapless Bob Hope character) going along with it, and with European Commission President Ursula von der Lehen playing the part of Dorothy Lamour (the girl, being Bing’s prize in the Hollywood Road movies) demanding that all Europe increase its NATO military spending beyond Biden’s demand for 2% to Trump’s escalation to 5%. To top matters, Europe is to impose sanctions on trade with Russia and China, obliging them to relocate their leading industries in the United States.
So, unlike the movies, this will not end with the United States rushing in to save gullible Germany. Instead, Germany and Europe as a whole will become sacrificial offerings in our desperate but futile effort to save the US Empire. While Germany may not immediately end up with an emigrating and shrinking population like Ukraine, its industrial destruction is well under way.
Trump told the Davos Economic Forum January 23: “My message to every business in the world is very simple: Come make your product in America and we will give you among the lowest taxes of any nation on earth.” Otherwise, if they continue to try and produce at home or in other countries, their products will be charged tariff rates at Trump’s threatened 20%.
To Germany this means (my paraphrase): “Sorry your energy prices have quadrupled. Come to America and get them at almost as low a price as you were paying Russia before your elected leaders let us cut Nord Stream off.”
The great question is how many other countries will be as quiescent as Germany as Trump changes the rules of the game – America’s Rules-Based Order. At what point will a critical mass be achieved that changes the world order as a whole?
Can there be a Hollywood ending to the coming chaos? The answer is No, and that the key is to be found in the balance-of-payments effect of Trump’s threatened tariffs and trade sanctions. Neither Trump nor his economic advisors understand what damage their policy is threatening to cause by radically unbalancing the balance of payments and exchange rates throughout the world, making a financial rupture inevitable.
The balance-of-payments and exchange-rate constraint on Trump’s tariff aggression
The first two countries that Trump threatened were America’s NAFTA partners, Mexico and Canada. Against both countries Trump has threatened to raise U.S. tariffs on imports from them by 20% if they do not obey his policy demands.
He has threatened Mexico in two ways. First of all is his immigration program of exporting illegal immigrants and permitting short-term work permits for seasonal Mexican labor to work in agriculture and household services. He has suggested deporting the Latin American immigration wave to Mexico, on the grounds that most have come to America via the Mexican border along the Rio Grande. This threatens to impose an enormous social-welfare overhead on Mexico, which has no wall on its own southern border.
There also is a strong balance-of-payments cost to Mexico, and indeed to other countries whose citizens have sought work in the United States. A major source of dollars for these countries has been money remitted by workers who send what they can afford back to their families. This is an important source of dollars for families in Latin American, Asian and other countries. Deporting immigrants will remove a substantial source of revenue that has been supporting the exchange rates of their currencies vis-Ã -vis the dollar.
Imposing a 20% tariff or other trade barriers on Mexico and other countries would be a fatal blow to their exchange rates by reducing the export trade that U.S. policy has traditionally promoted. This started under President Carter, promoting an outsourcing of U.S. employment by using Mexican labor to keep down U.S. wage rates. The creation of NAFTA under Bill Clinton led to a long line of maquiladora assembly plants just south of the US/Mexican border, employing low-wage Mexican labor on assembly lines set up by U.S. companies to save labor costs. Tariffs would abruptly deprive Mexico of the dollars received to pay pesos to this labor force, and also would raise costs for their U.S. parent companies.
The result of these two Trump policies would be a plunge in Mexico’s source of dollars. This will force Mexico to make a choice: If it passively accepts these terms, the peso’s currency exchange rate will depreciate. This will make imports (priced in dollars on a worldwide level) more expensive in peso terms, leading to a substantial jump in domestic inflation.
Alternatively, Mexico can put its economy first and say that the trade and payments disruption caused by Trump’s tariff action prevents it from paying its dollar-debts to bondholders.
In 1982, Mexico’s default on its tesobono bonds denominated in dollars triggered the Latin America debt bomb of defaults. Trump’s acts looks like he’s forcing a replay. In that case, Mexico’s countervailing response would be to suspend payment on its US-dollar bonds.
This could have far-reaching effects, because many other Latin American and Global South countries are experiencing a similar squeeze in their balance of international trade and payments. The dollar’s exchange rate already has been soaring against their currencies as a result of the Federal Reserve raising interest rates, attracting investment funds from Europe and other countries. A rising dollar means rising import prices for oil and raw materials denominated in dollars.
Canada faces a similar balance-of-payments squeeze. Its counterpart to Mexico’s maquiladora plants are its auto-parts plants in Windsor, across the river from Detroit. In the 1970s the two countries agreed on the Auto Pact allocating what assembly plants would work on in their joint production of U.S. autos and trucks.
Well, “agreed” may not be the appropriate verb. I was in Ottawa at the time, and government officials were very resentful at being assigned the short end of the auto deal. But it is still going today, fifty years later, and remains a major contributor to Canada’s trade balance and hence the exchange rate of its dollar, which already has been falling against that of the United States.
Of course, Canada is no Mexico. The thought of it suspending payment on its dollar bonds is unthinkable in a country run largely by its banks and financial interests. But the political consequences will be felt throughout Canadian politics. There will be an anti-American feeling (always bubbling under the surface in Canada) that should end Trump’s fantasy of making Canada the 51st state.
The implicit moral foundations of international economic order
There is a basic illusory moral principle at work in Trump’s tariff and trade threats, and it underlies the broad narrative by which the United States has sought to rationalize its unipolar domination of the world economy. That principle is the illusion of reciprocity supporting a mutual distribution of benefits and growth – and in the American vocabulary it is wrapped together with democratic values and patter talk about free markets promising automatic stabilizers under the U.S.-sponsored international system.
The principles of reciprocity and stability were central to the economic arguments by John Maynard Keynes during the debate in the late 1920s over U.S. insistence that its European wartime allies pay heavy debts for arms bought from the United States before its formal entry into the war. The Allies agreed to pay by imposing German reparations to shift the cost onto the war’s loser. But the demands by the United States on its European allies, and in turn by them on Germany, were far beyond the ability to be met.
The fundamental problem, Keynes explained, was that the United States was raising its tariffs against Germany in response to its currency depreciating, and then imposed the Smoot-Hawley tariff against the rest of the world. That prevented Germany from earning the hard currency to pay the allies, and for them to pay America.
To make the international financial system of debt service work, Keynes pointed out, a creditor nation has an obligation to provide debtor countries with the opportunity to raise the money to pay by exporting to the creditor nation. Otherwise, there will be currency collapse and crippling austerity for debtors. This basic principle should be at the heart of any design for how the international economy should be organized with checks and balances to prevent such collapse.
Opponents of Keynes – the French anti-German monetarist Jacques Rueff, and the neoclassical trade advocate Bertil Ohlin – repeated the same argument that David Ricardo laid out in his 1809-1810 testimony before Britain’s Bullion Committee. He claimed that paying foreign debts automatically creates a balance in international payments. This junk-economic theory provided a logic that remains the basic IMF austerity model today.
According to this theory’s fantasy, when paying debt service lowers prices and wages in the debt-paying country, that will increase its exports by making them less costly to foreigners. And supposedly, the receipt of debt service by creditor nations will be monetized to raise its own prices (the Quantity Theory of Money), reducing its exports. This price shift is supposed to continue until the debtor country suffering a monetary outflow and austerity is able to export enough to afford to pay its foreign creditors.
But the United States did not permit foreign imports to compete with its own producers. And for debtors, the price of monetary austerity was not more competitive export production but economic disruption and chaos. Ricardo’s model and U.S. neoclassical theory was simply an excuse for hard-line creditor policy. Structural adjustments or austerity have been devastating to the economies and governments on which it has been imposed. Austerity reduces productivity and output.
In 1944 when Keynes was trying to resist U.S. demand for foreign trade and monetary subservience at the Bretton Woods conference, he proposed the bancor, an intergovernmental balance-of-payments arrangement calling for chronic creditor nations (namely, the United States) to lose their accumulation of financial claims on debtor countries (such as Britain would become). That would be the price to be paid to prevent the international financial order from polarizing the world between creditor and debtor countries. Creditors had to enable debtors to pay, or lose their financial claims for payment.
Keynes, as noted above, also emphasized that if creditors want to be paid, they have to import from the debtor countries to provide them with the ability to pay.
This was a profoundly moral policy, and it had an additional benefit of making economic sense. It would enable both parties to prosper instead of having one creditor nation prosper while debtor countries succumbed to austerity preventing them from investing in modernizing and developing their economies by raising social spending and living standards.
Under Donald Trump the United States is violating that principle. There is no Keynesian bancor-type arrangement in place, but there are the harsh America-first realities of its unipolar diplomacy. If Mexico is to save its economy from being plunged into austerity, price inflation, unemployment and social chaos, it will have to suspend its payments on foreign debts denominated in dollars.
The same principle applies to other Global South countries. And if they act together, they have a moral position to create a realistic and even inevitable narrative of the preconditions for any stable international economic order to function.
Circumstances thus are forcing the world to break away from the U.S.-centered financial order. The U.S. dollar’s exchange rate is going to soar in the short term as a result of Trump blocking imports with tariffs and trade sanctions. This exchange-rate shift will squeeze foreign countries owing dollar debts in the same way that Mexico and Canada are to be squeezed. To protect themselves, they must suspend dollar debt service.
This response to today’s debt overhead is not based on the concept of Odious Debts. It goes beyond the critique that many of these debts and their terms of payment were not in the interest of the countries on which these debts were imposed on in the first place. It goes beyond the criticism that lenders must have some responsibility for judging the ability of their debtors to pay – or suffer financial losses if they have not done so.
The political problem of the world’s overhang of dollar debts is that the United States is acting in a way that prevents debtor countries from earning the money to pay foreign debts denominated in US dollars. U.S. policy thus poses a threat to all creditors denominating their debts in dollars, by making these debts practically unpayable without destroying their own economies.
The U.S. policy assumption that other countries will not respond to U.S. economic aggression
Does Trump really know what he’s doing? Or is his careening policy simply causing collateral damage for other countries? I think that what’s at work is a deep and basic internal contradiction of U.S. policy, similar to that of U.S. diplomacy in the 1920s. When Trump promised his voters that the United States must be the “winner” in any international trade or financial agreement, he is declaring economic war on the rest of the world.
Trump is telling the rest of the world that they must be losers – and accept the fact graciously in payment for the military protection that it provides the world in case Russia might invade Europe or China send its army into Taiwan, Japan or other countries. The fantasy is that Russia would have anything to gain in having to support a collapsing European economy, or that China decides to compete militarily instead of economically.
Hubris is at work in this dystopian fantasy. As the world’s hegemon, U.S. diplomacy rarely takes account of how foreign countries will respond. The essence of its hubris is to simplistically assume that countries will passively submit to U.S. actions with no blowback. That has been a realistic assumption for countries like Germany, or those with similar U.S. client politicians in office.
But what is happening today is system-wide in character. In 1931 there was finally a moratorium declared on Inter-Ally debts and German reparations. But that was two years after the 1929 stock market crash and the earlier hyperinflations in Germany and France. Along similar lines the 1980s saw Latin American debts written down by Brady bonds. In both cases international finance was the key to the system’s overall political and military breakdown, because the world economy had become self-destructively financialized. Something similar seems inevitable today. Any workable alternative involves creating a new world economic system.
U.S. domestic politics is equally unstable. Trump’s America First political theater that got him elected may get his gang unseated as the contradictions and consequences of their operating philosophy are recognized and replaced. His tariff policy will accelerate U.S. price inflation and, even more fatally, cause chaos in U.S. and foreign financial markets. Supply chains will be disrupted, interrupting U.S. exports of everything from aircraft to information technology. And other countries will find themselves obliged to make their economies no longer dependent on U.S. exports or dollar credit.
And perhaps in the long-term view this would not be a bad thing. The problem is in the short run as supply chains, trade patterns and dependency are replaced as part of the new geopolitical economic order that is being developed as an alternative to U.S. neoliberal policy. In fact, the U.S. attempt to tighten that policy is forcing other countries to develop an alternative.
Trump bases his attempt to tear up the existing linkages and reciprocity of international trade and finance on the assumption that in a chaotic grab-bag, America will come out on top. That confidence underlies his willingness to pull out of today’s geopolitical interconnections.
He thinks that the U.S. economy is like a cosmic black hole, that is, a center of gravity able to pull all the world’s money and economic surplus to itself.
That is the explicit aim of America First. That is what makes Trump’s program a declaration of economic war on the rest of the world. There is no longer a promise that the economic order sponsored by U.S. diplomacy will make other countries prosperous. The gains from trade and foreign investment are to be sent to and concentrated in America.
The problem goes beyond Trump. He is simply following what already has been implicit in U.S. policy since 1945. America’s self-image is that it is the only economy in the world that can be thoroughly self-sufficient economically. It produces its own energy, and also its own food, and supplies these basic needs to other countries or has the ability to turn off the spigot.
Most important, the United States is the only economy without the financial constraints that constrain other countries. America’s debt is in its own currency, and there has been no limit on its ability to spend beyond its means by flooding the world with excess dollars, which other countries accept as their monetary reserves as if the dollar is still as good as gold. And underneath it all is the assumption that almost with a flick of the switch, the United States can become as industrially self-sufficient as it was in 1945. America is the world’s Blanche duBois in Tennessee Williams’ Streetcar Named Desire, living in the past while not aging well.
The American Empire’s self-serving neoliberal narrative
To obtain foreign acquiescence in accepting an empire and living peacefully in it requires a soothing narrative to depict the empire as pulling everyone ahead. The aim is to distract other countries from resisting a system that actually is exploitative. First Britain and then the United States promoted the ideology of free-trade imperialism after their mercantilist and protectionist policies had given them a cost advantage over other countries, turning these countries into commercial and financial satellites.
Trump has pulled away this ideological curtain. Partly this is simply in recognition that it no longer can be maintained in the face of US/NATO foreign policy and its military and economic war against Russia and sanctions against trade with China, Russia, Iran and other BRICS members. It would be madness for other countries not to reject this system, now that its empowering narrative is false for all to see.
The question is, how will they be able to put themselves in a position to create an alternative world order? What is the likely trajectory?
Countries like Mexico really don’t have much of a choice but to go it alone. Canada may succumb, letting its exchange rate fall and its domestic prices rise as its imports are denominated in “hard currency” dollars. But many Global South countries are in the same balance-of-payments squeeze as Mexico. And unless they have client elites like Argentina – its elite being themselves major holders of Argentina’s dollar bonds – their political leaders will have to stop debt payments or suffer domestic austerity (deflation of the local economy) coupled with inflation of import prices as the exchange rates for their currencies buckle under the strains imposed by a rising U.S. dollar. They will have to suspend debt service or else be voted out of office.
Not many leading politicians have the leeway that Germany’s Annalena Baerbock has of saying that her Green Party does not have to listen to what German voters say they want. Global South oligarchies may rely on U.S. support, but Germany is certainly an outlier when it comes to being willing to commit economic suicide out of loyalty to U.S. foreign policy without limit.
Suspending debt service is less destructive than continuing to succumb to the Trump-based America First order. What blocks that policy is political, along with a centrist fear of embarking on the major policy change necessary to avoid economic polarization and austerity.
Europe seems afraid to use the option of simply calling Trump’s bluff, despite its being an empty threat that would be blocked by America’s own vested interests among the Donor Class.
Trump has stated that if countries do not agree to spend 5% of its GDP on military arms (largely from the United States) and buy more US liquid natural gas (LNG) energy, he will impose tariffs of 20% on countries that resist. But if European leaders do not resist, the euro will fall perhaps by 10 or 20 percent. Domestic prices will rise, and national budgets will have to cut back social spending programs such as support for families to buy more expensive gas or electricity to heat and power their homes.
America’s neoliberal leaders welcome this class-war phase of U.S. demands on foreign governments. U.S. diplomacy has been active in crippling the political leadership of former labor and social democratic parties in Europe and other countries so thoroughly that it no longer seems to matter what voters want. That is what America’s National Endowment Democracy is for, along with its mainstream media ownership and narrative. But what is being shaken up is not merely America’s unipolar dominance of the West and its sphere of influence, but the worldwide structure of international trade and financial relations – and inevitably, military relations and alliances as well.
Elliot Sperber is a writer, attorney, and adjunct professor. He lives in New York City and can be reached at elliot.sperber@gmail.com and on twitter @elliot_sperber