Disaster politics

Disasters, natural or man-made, rarely cause dramatic political change on their own, but they frequently accelerate developments already underway. The 1944 earthquake in San Juan, Argentina helped set the stage for Juan Perón’s rise to power a year later. The radioactive fallout from the 1986 Chernobyl nuclear meltdown exposed the limits of the Soviet government’s ability to control information, accelerating Mikhail Gorbachev’s reform programs, which in turn led to the collapse of the USSR altogether and the end of Cold War. In the United States, the Bush administration’s catastrophic mishandling of Hurricane Katrina just three years ago shattered its image of competence, squandering its entire reserve of political capital, sending its approval ratings plummeting, and setting the stage for the Democratic victory in the 2006 midterm elections and likely further victories in the 2008 elections.

It is far too early to know the full scale of the human disaster underway in Burma (Myanmar), let alone the long-term political implications of Cyclone Nargis, which struck the heart of the nation’s population in the Irrawaddy Delta on Saturday. But we know this so far: the Myanmarese dictatorship, whose penchant for secrecy is only rivaled by the regime in Pyongyang, has already acknowledged 22,464 deaths, with another 41,054 people reported missing, as the storm sent a 12-foot tidal wave far inland. Aid agencies are reporting 50,000 fatalities and 3 million people left homeless. Already, this is the deadliest storm since a 1991 cyclone claimed 140,000 lives in Bangladesh.

Despite 48 hours advance warning from Indian meteorologists, both Burmese citizens and resident foreign nationals are reporting that the military leaders did not adequately warn them of the approaching cyclone. The dictatorship has acknowledged the necessity of accepting foreign aid - previously, the junta has made it impossible for the Red Cross, Doctors Without Borders, and other non-governmental organizations to operate inside of Burma, and still have not granted the UN World Food Program permission to distribute rice to the storm’s survivors. The junta has also postponed voting in Rangoon (the nation’s economic capital) and the Irrawaddy delta for the referendum on a new constitution. The army-drafted constitution has been widely criticized by human rights organizations and dissident movements for maintaining military rule under a democratic facade. Additionally, the Assistance Association for Political Prisoners (Burma) is reporting that at the Iselin prison in Rangoon, where many political prisons are jailed, riots broke out among prisoners taking shelter from the cyclone, and the prison guards opened fire, killing 36 and injuring around 70 more; four more prisoners were tortured to death during the subsequent investigation.

Last fall, soaring prices for food, fuel, and other basic necessities sparked the September protests that claimed 31 lives officially, 100-200 unofficially. The harsh military crackdown on the nonviolent protests, led by Buddhist monks, cost the regime much of its lingering support. Aung Hla Tun, writing in the Sydney Morning Herald, notes how the military’s sluggish response to the cyclone contrasts sharply with how quickly it crushed those protests. Moreover, with Nargis smashing into Burma’s rice-basket, in the Irrawaddy delta, those same prices that sparked the monks’ dissent last fall are spiraling even further out of control.

In and of itself, the cyclone is unlikely to blow away Burma’s military junta. But as the people of Burma lose any last remaining belief that the dictatorship can protect them, whether from natural disaster, economic hardship, or civil unrest, its days may be numbered. What social force might replace the generals remains unclear, but if there is a tiny sliver of hope to come out of this horrific human disaster unfolding, it might just be the end of this brutal regime.

In the meantime, with the dictatorship making relief work so difficult, it is hard to say where your dollars or euros might be best directed, but for the time being, I would recommend either the U.S. Campaign for Burma (or the equivalent groups in Canada, Europe, Australia, or elsewhere), or Doctors Without Borders; as additional resources become available, I’ll post a follow-up.

We Don’t Need Another Blogger (Welcome to Bear Left)

Dear Bear Left,

Oy vey, another blog?! Do we really need yet another blogger, offering their unsolicited commentary as the world goes by?

Welcome! I’m Bear Left, sometimes also known as Ian Lekus, and this is my new homestead in the cybersphere.

Back when I began my training as a professional historian, I declared that “my approach to history is best described as queer.” Those words not only captured my commitment to documenting the long history of sexual dissent, and to my fascination with how societies (past and present) define what is and isn’t considered “normal,” but to my thinking about history itself. Now, I do share most historians’ geeky love for musty archives and poring through old letters, newspapers, and other records of voices long gone by. I’m especially dedicated to recording living voices of the past before they disappear altogether - in fact, a high school project where I interviewed my grandparents’ friends about their memories of McCarthyism launched me on the path I’m still on, countless unexpected twists and turns in the road later.

But I’m an especially queer historian because my passion for history is fueled by how it teaches us about the present world we live in, and helps us imagine how to create a better, more just and sustainable future. Like most historians, I teach my students how to interpret the past on its own terms, but I also encourage them to think about how contemporary concerns lead us to ask new questions of the past. In turn, I use my own research, and plan to use this blog, with one eye trained on the past, another gazing forward, and a third centered on the here and now (You’ll see, in turn, how among my sweepingly broad interests, quantitative research is conspicuously absent).

In turn, I also have little patience for artificial boundaries that many scholars draw between the past and the present, between formal politics, popular culture, and everyday life, or between the ivory tower and the broader world. I’m inspired by researchers who, for example, re-examine the Cold War from the perspective of the history of jazz, and in my classrooms, I use the highway system as an example of how Cold War geopolitics, military strategies, suburbanization, the growth of the Sunbelt, environmental change, tourism, sex, and the homogenization of our shopping and restaurant choices are all tied together. So part of my queer agenda here — and I do have one — is mashing up the past, present, and future, and any and every topic under the sun.

So welcome to Bear Left, and I look forward to our conversations. I will say at the outset: I encourage discussion and different opinions — democracy fundamentally demands such engaged debate — but keep it respectful. Hateful language, personal attacks, and other counterproductive contributions will be deleted. Also, all opinions expressed here are my own, and not those of my employer, any subdivision of my employer, or any other organizations with which I am affiliated.

One other minor note: please be patient as I learn about WordPress’ templates and other functionalities; I’ll be building lists of links and resources, and improving the graphic design and layout as I go along.