I’ve tried to stay clear of the blowup around Cornel West’s idiotic attack on the president. To me, it’s just one more example of the liberal “cool kids” forming their I-am-more-liberal-than-the-president clique. But Joan Walsh, a Salon writer whose own clueless contribution to the debate over West’s idiocy drew the ire of several friends on Twitter over the last few days, weighs in again today — and chalks the whole thing up to “identity politics,” which is hilarious. Choice quote:
I continue to observe a disturbing ad hominem campaign against Obama critics (the Twitter war rages on, with or without me). If you’re white, it’s “white privilege” speaking. If you’re black, you’re old or jealous or angry you’re left out of Obama’s inner circle. If you’re neither white nor black, you just don’t get American race relations and you should “STFU.” Just today on Twitter, I saw two (white) progressives I respect make wildly contradictory and nasty generalizations about a grouping of Obama critics (of different races; I wasn’t among them): One suggested they’re trashing the president for fame and money; the other that they’re angry they’ve been marginalized by Obama’s popularity. Which is it?
Gee, can’t it be both? In fact, I’m sure we can come up with a whole list of reasons why different firebaggers do what they do. Hamsher and Huffington are all about the page loads, while Greenwald protests just a little too much about photos of Obama being charismatic and popular. I’ve chronicled Hamsher’s greed and dishonesty here before, made no secret of my distaste for Huffington’s overt friendships with culture warriors like Newt Gingrich, and questioned the honesty of Greenwald’s Manning promotions. These are not ‘personal’ attacks. They are empirical questions.
If Walsh wants to see what “ad hominem campaigns” look like, she could try this. If she wants dishonesty, Walsh can just ask David House some probing questions about his “friendship” with Bradley Manning. If she wants to see what crazy looks like, Walsh is welcome to sample a random FDL comment thread or Daily Kos on its worst days.
“Disagreeing” with the president isn’t what I find objectionable. When I saw Appalachian human rights activists asking the president “which side are you on?” I didn’t argue with them, call them names, or dismiss them. Instead, I shot a half-hour documentary about the event. Organizing to push the administration into choosing sides? That’s democracy. Calling anyone who supports the president “sheeple,” suggesting they suffer from sexual dysfunction, and making dismissive cranial-anal connections? That’s the definition of firebagging.
But please, let’s do continue with Walsh’s own words:
It couldn’t possibly be that any of these people, whatever their age, race or social class, wherever they went to school, have genuine differences with the president? (Or conversely, in the case of Obama defenders being attacked racially and personally, have wonderful and sincere reasons for continuing to support him fervently.)
So far, so good in this ‘graff, but we’re about to take a turn down the unreconstructed alleyway of Walsh’s own wounded ego. Remember, this is her response to being thrashed after inserting herself into an argument between African Americans:
No one can be given credit for speaking from genuine moral or political conviction anymore; everyone can be dismissed or derided with a nod to their personal background. This may be the logical end of identity politics, where ultimately we’re each locked inside whatever little box we check, tiny caucuses of one, and common ground is impossible. (Emphasis mine)
Walsh doesn’t “get” a conversation about race. Her ignorance is what drew ire, not her background. Maybe her Wisconsin white bread education explains the ignorance, but where one graduated neither excuses their ignorance or makes it inevitable. In fact, Walsh received opprobrium not for defending West, but for being dismissive of the argument over his words — an act she repeats here by chalking the whole thing up to “identity politics” and throwing up her hands. This is not about a movement, you see, but Joan Walsh rationalizing her butthurt and shame.
