Reflections on the 10th Anniversary of the Wisconsin Uprising
In February 2011, I was walking through the Wisconsin State Capitol Building’s rotunda, taking pictures of the tens of thousands of people who streamed through the entrances with colorful signs and pro-union banners and the hundreds of activists who had set up shop on the marble floors, with sleeping bags and food stations temporarily assembled for public use.
I was in Madison with a contingent of antiwar veterans from Northwest Indiana who traveled to the Badger State to support our union brothers and sisters. At that point, I was increasingly bitter and cynical about our chances of success in any realm, especially after years of getting our asses kicked by the Bush administration. By 2011, it had been three years since Obama was elected, and already liberals and progressives were retreating behind a shield of identity politics. Obama escalated the U.S. war in Afghanistan and, by the time we got to Madison, was pushing for the U.S. military to intervene in Libya. The bankers got away with murder; the wars and surveillance state expanded; and people quickly became disillusioned with the nation’s first black president. Wisconsin was the first bright spot in a long time. How could we miss it?
Quickly, however, it became clear that no one had a serious plan. Our crew from Northwest Indiana was in Madison for several days (almost a week if I remember correctly) and never ran into anyone who could articulate a concise and strategic scheme to force the state legislature to reject Governor Walker’s and the Wisconsin GOP’s austerity budget. Basically, the idea was to march, chant, and give speeches, just like the antiwar movement during the Bush years. Unfortunately, but predictably, we failed. By March 10th, the bill was passed, and the momentum from the disorganized and non-strategic occupation/protests were redirected and misdirected toward a failed electoral recall campaign. In hindsight, the outcome was a harbinger of things to come, namely more rightwing political victories.
Without question, the Madison Uprising was memorable for many reasons — too many to describe in this short essay. Indeed, I will remember the powerful actions and speeches I listened to, gave, and participated in during my time in Wisconsin. But I will also remember my dear friend, Kim Scipes, walking up to me while we both stood on the second level of the capitol dome and asking, “Hey bro, what do you think?” with a sly grin on his face. We’d both been here before, not in Madison, but in similar settings with large numbers of progressives and leftists, only to leave disappointed, deflated, and politically defeated. It was happening again, and we both knew it. I looked at him and said, “It’s awesome, man. You know I love big protests. But I’m not sure what we’re doing other than singing old socialist songs.” He looked at me and responded, “I’m glad you’re thinking about this shit, bro. Good.”
At the time, I didn’t have the words to describe what we were doing, but now I do: we were mobilizing, not organizing. Turns out, mobilizations without massive bases of accountable, empowered and committed members (people coming from member-based, structure-based organizations) to pull from quickly turn into glorified symbolic demonstrations. At the political level, I witnessed the limitations of the mobilizing and self-selected political organizations, business unionism, and corporate Democrats. It was a fantastic learning experience.
On a different level, perhaps a more subjective one, I found myself not participating in the chants and songs for the first time since becoming involved with progressive social movements. As a rather outgoing person and former marine, it’s not hard for me to jump on the mic, join in song, or get a crowd fired up with some fiery rhetoric. But there I was, amidst the largest labor mobilization in decades, unable to muster the motivation and spirit to join my brothers and sisters. Something was wrong. Or was it? Why was it that I had no interest in joining my supposed comrades for the first time in my activist experience?
The short answer is that I was sick of losing and celebrating non-victories as if they were otherwise. In Madison, the writing was on the wall: we didn’t have a plan and it was a matter of time before we lost. Once again, leftists would head home with an ‘L’ behind our names, talking trash about the millions of Americans who didn’t seem to give a shit and bad-mouthing everyone under the sun. Our rage was justified, but the aim of our indignation was misguided and unhelpful. Calls to “celebrate the struggle,” as if that alone was enough to keep us going, were also unsound. “Fighting the good fight” isn’t enough in the age of perpetual despair and distrust. Either we’re gonna build a new society, or we’re gonna pretend we’re playing revolution in the streets. The left must pick one.
At one point in my life, I would’ve shared pictures and stories commemorating the 10th anniversary of the Madison Uprising. Not these days. Today, I’ve had enough of the symbolic nonsense and have grown tired of never-ending losses. The pandemic, for me, was the final nail in the coffin. The situation is critical and society is infinitely complex. I don’t have time for any form of politics that isn’t firmly rooted in that reality. Simple answers and ideological dogma won’t cut it. If you don’t have a theory of power and a strategy to achieve your objectives that includes organizing millions of ordinary people, you’re cosplaying, and I’d rather spend my time painting, hanging out with friends, cooking, having sex, playing sports, or watching movies.
Of course, that’s not to say that mass mobilizations aren’t useful, inspiring, or needed. They can be all of those things, but only with a pre-existing political infrastructure to support them. That means lots of work needs to take place between mobilizations to make sure future efforts are successful. That means people have to dig-in for the long-haul and intentionally develop organizations and projects that fit our aims.
In the end, I’m glad I traveled to Madison and participated in those historic protests — something I can pass along to future generations and tells stories about over drinks. Most importantly, however, I also learned vital and long-overdue lessons about the limitations of mass mobilizations without a clear strategy, a lesson more leftists must learn.
Let’s not get too caught up in nostalgia. And let’s never rest on our laurels. Critically examining our previous political efforts and attempts at changing society and providing sober mentorship is the most valuable thing we can do for future generations. Hell, it’s the least we can do.
Vincent Emanuele is a writer, antiwar veteran, and podcaster. He is the co-founder of PARC | Politics Art Roots Culture Media and the PARC Community-Cultural Center located in Michigan City, Indiana. Vincent is a member of Veterans For Peace and OURMC | Organized & United Residents of Michigan City. He is also a member of Collective 20. He can be reached at vincent.emanuele333@gmail.com