The Arab (and European) Spring and Occupy Wall Street
John L. Hammond
The year 2011, according to Time Magazine, was the Year of the Protester (Tharoor, 2011). In a time of economic stress and political uncertainty, protest broke out, first across the Arab world (coming to be known as the "Arab spring"), then in southern Europe, and then in the United States. Foreshadowed by the abortive Green Movement of 2009 in Iran, a wave of protest spread from Tunisia to Egypt, Libya, Bahrain, Syria, and elsewhere; then demonstrators occupied the state legislature in Wisconsin to protest the curtailment of public employee unions' collective bargaining rights; the indignados in Spain and Greek protesters revolted against austerity; and a heterogeneous group of activists camped out in Zuccotti Park in lower Manhattan under the banner of "Occupy Wall Street" (OWS).
In all these places, protesters used an innovative tactic: the occupation. They filled an outdoor public space (except in Wisconsin) and proposed to remain indefinitely, day and night, until some demands were met. Young people, facing grim or (at best) uncertain economic prospects, took prominent roles; electronic social networking media were used to recruit participants; occupying a common space for several days or weeks, the occupations developed at least incipient organizational structures that were nonhierarchical and promoted an egalitarian, nonalienated form of interaction (I will later refer to these characteristics as "horizontality" and "prefiguration"). Observers in each country were astonished by the size and duration of these occupations and the way they spread out from a central node across their respective countries and beyond.
But each occupation had its peculiarities as well. Notably, they had different political objectives and confronted different types of regime. In this paper I will compare three occupations: of Tahrir Square, Cairo, beginning on January 25; of the Puerta del Sol, Madrid, beginning on May 15; and of Zuccotti Park in New York, beginning on September 17. Tahrir Square was not the first; massive protest began in Tunisia in December, 2010 (some trace antecedents further back to the Green Movement in Iran in 2009). These three locations were central, however; and each became the epicenter of a wave of protest that spread out within and beyond their respective countries. I will mainly discuss New York, based on my direct experience there.
The Occupation and the Ninety-Nine Percent
The New York movement (and by extension the movement in the US as a whole) was known as Occupy Wall Street (OWS). The initial call to occupy, in a two-page spread in the July issue of the Canadian magazine Adbusters, cited Tahrir Square as its inspiration. It read (in its entirety):
#OCCUPYWALLSTREET
Are you ready for a Tahrir moment?
On Sept. 17, flood into lower Manhattan, set up tents,
kitchens, peaceful barricades and occupy Wall Street.
Not knowing exactly what to expect, groups of people started meeting in General Assemblies in New York through the summer to lay plans, communicate them through the media, and prepare logistical support for what was intended to be a long term occupation. Then on September 17 a few hundred demonstrators gathered in lower Manhattan. Because they had made no secret of their intention, Wall Street was heavily guarded, so they proceeded to a nearby privately owned public space called Zuccotti Park, which they rebaptized Liberty Plaza, and set up camp.
Protesters chose Wall Street rather than a governmental target to express their view that major problems in American society stem from the stranglehold of capitalist corporations, particularly financial corporations, on US politics and social life. Corporate greed and corporate power were a major force in the drastically increased concentration of wealth and income in a tiny fraction of the population. There are many ways to measure inequality, but all of them show the same trend in the United States during the last three decades: a very small layer at the top of the distribution has experienced dramatic increases in its share of the nation's income and wealth. To take a representative example, a 2011 report by the US Congressional Budget Office shows that between 1979 and 2007, the real after-tax household income of the top one percent of the population grew by 275%, while that of the rest of the population grew much more modestly: for the top 20% (excluding the top 1%), the growth was 65%; for the bottom fifth of the population, it was 18%.[1]
The increasing concentration of wealth is both a result of the increasing political power of corporations and the enabler of further concentration of wealth and power. Thanks to the rising profitability of capitalist corporations, business executives, often paid in stocks as well as cash, captured the lion's share of this increased income at the highest levels (Krugman, 2012a: 74-76). At the same time, thanks to what Nobel prize winning economist Joseph Stiglitz called "an increasingly dysfunctional form of capitalism" (2012: 1), ordinary Americans suffer stagnant wages and long term unemployment, and millions of families have lost their homes to mortgage foreclosures.
Some of the increased riches of the top tier is due to market forces-technology and changing international trade, for example-but much of it is due to government policies adopted in response to corporate influence, including regressive taxes and deregulated financial institutions. Three policies of the preceding decade stand out: the George W. Bush administration’s tax cuts, especially for the highest-earning taxpayers; the bailout of major banks after the 2008 financial crisis, with no punishment and little change in regulation of the (often fraudulent) practices that produced the crisis,[2] and the Supreme Court’s ruling in the Citizens United case, allowing unlimited corporate contributions in electoral campaigns. All these measures exacerbate both the unequal distribution of wealth and its growing power to influence political outcomes through campaign contributions in the millions of dollars and the more direct purchase of political influence through lobbying.
This emphasis sets the US protests apart from those in the old hemisphere. The protests in the Arab world were against authoritarian governments. Those in Europe, especially Spain, rejected government austerity policies. Both targeted the state. Occupy Wall Street, on the other hand, targeted corporations as economic actors, especially (but not only) financial corporations. While the Occupy protesters objected to government policies that favored those corporations, it was the private financial sector that OWS identified as the main source of problems. The target, accordingly, was Wall Street, the heart of the nation's financial district, and not the national capital. On September 29 a General Assembly of the occupation adopted a declaration (which is the closest thing there is to an authoritative statement of the occupation's platform) presenting a catalogue of grievances that echoed the Declaration of Independence; but they were addressed not to the King, or even to the president or some other branch of government, but to "corporations, which place profit over people, self-interest over justice, and oppression over equality, [and] run our governments" (Declaration, 2011).
While condemning concentrated wealth and government subservience to economic interests, the occupiers deliberately refrained from making any demands, unlike the Arab and European occupiers. They argued that it was not their role to offer concrete proposals; rather, they wanted to avoid entanglement with the political system and remain free to use direct action to call attention to these issues.
The quintessential slogan of Occupy Wall Street is "We are the 99%," dramatizing the gap between the wealthy and the great majority of the population. The slogan implicitly claims that 99% of the population are suffering, have common interests, and should make common cause against the wealthiest one percent. Though the movement hoped that the vast majority would identify with an undifferentiated 99%, however, most activists came from a particular segment, whose growth itself reflected the polarization of the economy. The growing inequality of wealth and income consigns many to working harder and for longer hours but for stagnating wages. It has also spawned a growing "precariat," a class of people, mostly young and many well educated, without access to stable employment. Global shifts in capitalism have driven large numbers into this class around the world; its members have populated the protests in North Africa and southern Europe as well as the United States (Achcar, 2012).
Many such young people in the US experience sporadic employment or long term unemployment despite educational credentials acquired at great cost and, often, a crushing personal debt load. Many of them have postindustrial skills in media and information technology, but opportunities in these fields are increasingly rare and often available only for a short term or on a freelance basis. Young people have often been the main recruits to social movements in the past-their attachments to family and economy are weak, and they are more likely to embrace ideals that call for social change. But they are even more susceptible to joining protests today than in more ordinary times, because economic crisis has swelled their numbers and magnified their grievances. They are the people who have filled the Occupy camps.
Even though the protest did not enlist the whole 99%, the slogan "We are the 99%" entered common discourse as a way of denouncing inequality. (It was chosen as "quotation of the year" by Fred Shapiro, the Yale law librarian, who compiles a list of the ten best quotes of each year (Christofferson, 2011.) The rhetoric of opposition to economic inequality is strikingly different from the discourse that has prevailed in the US left in recent decades, which has emphasized issues of group identity over class issues. Progressive politics has worked to assert the claims of particular groups defined by race, gender, sexual orientation, or other specific categories more than to combat economic injustice and class differences. The Occupy movement has not used the language of class, but with "99%," it has found a new vocabulary to assert the centrality of economic issues, both inequality and the corporate structures that are held responsible for it.
The occupation struck a responsive chord. Echoing a widespread discontent, an electronically networked movement with no formal leadership spread quickly to over 1500 cities and towns in the US and around the world. Tens of thousands joined in the protest against escalating inequality. The movement was decentralized and took pride in being leaderless (or "leaderful," according to some-everyone is a leader). Each occupation was independent of the others, but they were in constant contact using modern media of communication. Beyond the occupations, the movement's issues permeated the culture, coming rapidly into popular consciousness and provoking widespread discussion of topics that had been long ignored.
The protest was not just about the corporations or economic inequality. Beyond the political issues, occupiers shared a general rejection of the materialism and alienation they found in contemporary culture and strove to overcome them within their movement itself. The tactic of indefinite occupation encourages a unique internal process: the creation of a community. As protesters remain on a site around the clock for days or weeks, the occupation becomes more than a protest site; it becomes a space for living. In the US as well as in the Arab world and Europe, the occupations became an occasion for communication and organization considerably more intense than occurs in more ephemeral or sporadic protest movements.
Interaction, Virtual and Real
One of the most surprising aspects of the Occupy Wall Street movement was the restoration of face-to-face interaction, in real time and real space, to political life. (I write from my experience in New York City, but according to reports something similar has occurred in other occupations.) Young, articulate, and well-informed protesters at any occupation spent a large part of their day in intense discussions of political issues, personal troubles, the structure of the economy and the polity, and the future. Groups formed and dissolved in the course of a day as people switched back and forth from concrete tasks to deliberation and discussion.
Full-time occupiers and others who just dropped in took part and found the experience of these conversations energizing and liberating. Anyone on the occupation site in New York, occupier or visitor, could feel the sense of pulsating, vibrant energy (and many visitors showed up, as the occupation became a major attraction for the public). People milled about, peddled their causes, talked and debated in informal groups and more formal working groups. They met in the daily General Assembly to make collective decisions. They performed the tasks that kept the occupation going. They interacted in the public space where each person's actions are visible to everyone else. These interactions constituted the basis of democratic participation: they reinforced the sense of equality and joint ownership because everyone took part, everyone shared the experience. In talking to each other, people rehearsed their commitment to social justice at the macro level and personal empowerment at the micro level. Occupation presents this opportunity because it demarcates a specific physical space where a Habermasian public sphere can come into existence, a liberated space where deliberation about goals and future plans can take place (Habermas, 1989).
This intense personal interaction marked quite a departure for progressive political activity. For the last decade or more, many people's "activism" has been limited to reading e-mails and signing online petitions, a practice that has been criticized as "slacktivism" (Morozov, 2011: 189-191). Click a mouse, sign a petition; you have done your duty. In striking contrast, the Occupy movement recognized that electronic communication is no substitute for direct participation.
The Occupy movement depended heavily on the internet for initial and ongoing organizing, to be sure, especially the new electronic social networking media: Facebook, Twitter, Youtube, Livestream. Their use comes naturally to a generation that grew up with computers and can do anything with the phone they carry in their pockets. For live streaming in particular, the technical capacity has improved and the costs have come down, making it readily accessible. The new media embody occupiers’ cultural commitment to open access because they allow anyone both to produce and to distribute ideas.
But occupiers recognized the internet's limitations. They understood that as important as electronic communication is, it achieves little unless it leads to face-to-face interaction in which people do more than respond passively and reflexively. It is when people come together visibly in physical space, debate and discuss, march and demonstrate, and live a community life that social movements can empower them and prefigure future social relations.
Thus the electronic media are not used in isolation, but to promote nonhierarchical, egalitarian, but above all active participation in the movement's activities, interaction in real time and real space. They draw protesters into the heart of these contemporary protest movements, in public spaces where people interact in multitudes. As an editor of the Occupied Wall Street Journal (who requested anonymity because he also works for a mainstream publication) told me in an interview, social media "became a tool for action as opposed to a reason to stay on the couch."
While many observers have drawn attention to the role of the electronic media in convoking the demonstrations of the Arab spring and since, its limits have rarely been noted. However much Facebook and Twitter can be important for mobilizing, it should be evident that by themselves they do not constitute a political protest. Slacktivism is fully compatible with the extensive use of electronic media. They contributed to the protests of 2011 only because they fed into live action.
A lot of that action consisted of talk-in small group conversations and in larger meetings. A General Assembly met daily; anyone could attend and take part in its collective decisions. It was the definitive voice of the occupation and the expression of direct democracy. Meeting facilitators trained the public in procedures that are designed to reach consensus, though when there was no consensus votes were taken. The principle of "step up-step back" was meant to equalize participation: the more reticent were urged to speak out, the more vocal to restrain themselves. This principle was sometimes enforced by a facilitator responsible for the "stack" determining the order in which people would speak, who was charged with giving priority to the more reticent and preventing a few louder voices from dominating.
In large assemblies, people communicated via the “people's microphone,” the most innovative medium enlisted to support face-to-face communication (apparently adopted from the demonstrations in the spring of 2011 in Spain). It is prohibited to use bullhorns in public in New York City without a police permit. To circumvent the ban, someone addressing a mass meeting pauses after each phrase and the people nearby repeat it in unison to the crowd; if the crowd is big, a second circle of shouters repeats it. If it is even bigger than that, people on the periphery listen on their phones and shout it to the crowd.