“Memory is the enemy of totalitarianism.”
Albert Camus [16]
With the election of Donald Trump, the political tide turned dramatically to the right. Trumpâs ascendance exposed âa plague of deep-seated civic illiteracy, a corrupt political system and a contempt for reason that has been decades in the makingâ. [17] In an Orwellian world, investigating âthe truthâ takes time. However, truth-sleuthing is a fundamental plank in the struggle against an extreme form of capitalism in which populations are rendered disposable to a national security state that views democracy as an enemy. Flint was once a mighty union town, the birthplace of General Motors and the United Auto Workers, but now the community is viewed as a national sacrifice zone.
Several overlapping perspectives on the Flint story help expose darker realities with national implications. I will discuss three here: the whistleblower hero narrative, the environmental racism narrative and the neoliberal fascism narrative.
The Whistleblower Hero
An Opening Narrative
According to this story, the significance of the Flint events rests on the activism of four âwhistleblowers.â One is Leanne Walters, a mother of four who in 2015 began investigating the cityâs tap water and contacted an EPA water expert, Miguel Del Toral. She obtained a list of the chemical ingredients the Flint water treatment plant was using and sent them to Del Toral, who was based in Chicago. He was shocked to discover that Flint had no corrosion control chemicals to prevent lead from leaching from household water pipes and into the drinking water. Phosphate chemicals used to clean the water would have cost about $100 a day. He wrote a report and quickly notified Michigan Department of Environmental Quality officials. They ignored him and Del Toral got into trouble with his superiors at EPA, even though he was just doing his job. [18]
Del Toral contacted his colleague at the University of Virginia, Dr. Mark Edwards. Edwards was a civil engineer and drinking water specialist who had unearthed Washington, D.C.âs, lead water crisis some 15 years earlier. A McArthur genius award winner, Edwards immediately gathered carloads of his students, promised them pizza, and drove 600 miles through the night to Flint.
Together, with the help of citizens, they collected tap water from thousands of homes and had it tested. In September 2015, at a news conference in front of Flintâs city hall, he announced that the lead levels from hundreds of Flint homes exceeded the safety standard of 15 parts per billion. In one sample, the lead was so high it could be considered hazardous waste. [19] Michigan officials tried to discredit him, calling Edwards a ârabble rouser.â One MDEQ official charged that Edwards was âoffering broad dire public health advice based on some quick testing [that] could be seen as fanning the political flames of irresponsibility.â [20]
Dr. Mona Hanna-Attisha, Director of Hurley Hospitalâs Pediatric Residency Program in Flint, was influenced by Edwardsâ findings and contacted him. She decided to do research on the effects of lead on her patients, comparing pre-2014 levels with the 2015 findings. Liberating this information, which had been filed away, she was shocked to see that lead levels had risen over 200 percent in childrenâs blood in her study. She and her staff put together a report raising the alarm. Hanna-Attisha was concerned about what this kind of independent action would mean for her future career, however. When she presented her data publicly she was initially dismissed by the Snyder administration, who called her research âunfortunateâ and said she was responsible for creating ânear hysteria.â [21] By this time, Flint residents had been drinking the toxic water for more than a year.
Eventually, Michigan state government began to take seriously the research findings of Attisha and Edwards, marking a pivotal phase in the scandal. Michigan government finally publicly admitted that there was a horrific problem. The two doctors were vindicated. The Flint River water source was
switched back to the cleaner, Lake Huronâ sourced plant in Detroit. Yet the stateâs forced recognition of a catastrophe was just the beginning, and the full details of its culpability for death, injury and trauma were still to be uncovered. Tens of thousands of household services pipes are still leaching lead, and new problems continue to be revealed. Indeed, a lawsuit against Genesee County, on behalf of more than 91 prisoners, âalleges that prisoners were forced to drink tap water even after officials knew about the lead contamination.â [22]
âIt only takes oneâ
On May 13, 2016, Hannah-Attisha and Edwards danced out to the commencement speakers at Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University (Virginia Tech) doing âThe Hokie,â the schoolâs official dance where students and faculty excitedly jump up and down. They were commemorated for solving
the Flint water crisis. âWhen I saw all of you doing the Hokie,â said Hannah-Attisha, âif only one person had stood up and jumped how lonely and uncomfortable and strange that would have looked. People might even have told them to sit down. But when everyone stood up you were a force to be reckoned
with.â[23]
The university official who introduced them called them heroes and whistleblowers. In their presentation they did the same: Hannah-Attisha turned to Edwards and called him a hero; Edwards returned the salute, calling her a hero, too. They then exhorted the crowd with their central message, âIt only takes one.â[24]
âThere will be times in your life when youâll have to stand up, and sometimes, you may be the first person to stand up, and it will be lonely, and youâll feel powerless and uncomfortable, and you may even be scared. And others will tell you to sit down,â Hannah-Attisha said.
âWhen and not if the time comes, when it is you or no one. When you have to either go all in or stay seated, you will be ready. Do not let the world change you. Prepare yourself to join those brave souls, to take a stand and change the world.â[25]
When I viewed a video of the commencement exercises, I wondered: Will they really be ready? Does it really only take one? Do whistleblowers usually get to keep their jobs, as Hannah-Attisha and Edwards did? I did not get to keep my job in 2001 when I served as a government whistleblower against the Ingham County Health Department in Lansing, 55 miles from Flint, after revealing scores of toxic environmental cover-ups about the cityâs water, land and air pollution caused by General Motors, Michigan State University and other leading corporations.[26],[27] Ironically, Lansing was courting General Motors, with a âLansing Works, Keep GMâ campaign and was fearful that GM would leave for destinations such as Mexico as they had in Flint in the 1980s.
In light of the Flint crimes, I called Jeff Ruch, Director of Public Employees for Environmental Responsibility (PEER). Ruch was responsible for underwriting a campaign to release my suppressed reports, providing press releases, a support staff and a campaign manager who championed and defended the studies. Ruch said that whenever he speaks to students at professional schools, âThey look at me as though I have a third eye in the middle of my forehead.â As he explained,
âStudents in professional schools have never thought about this stuff. Their view of government is Civics 101. They donât take politics into account until they are caught in the crosshairs. … When they find that their work is an institutional inconvenience, and they are told to change scientific findings in accordance
with the bureaucrats of whatever regime is in charge.â[28]
Anthropologist Yanna Lambrinidou, who has worked with Edwards, expressed similar concerns. For several years in the early 2000s, Lambrinidou co-taught a class with Edwards at Virginia Tech: Engineering Ethics and the Public. She taught engineering students ethnographic methods, and Edwards taught her chemistry. Lambrinidou organized a coalition of activists during the similar lead
crisis in Washington, D.C., in 2001â2004. Edwards credits her ethnographic work for bringing his D.C. research to the attention of Congress: âWithout her efforts, the Congressional investigation that vindicated [Edwards] might never have happened.â[29]
In a 2018 interview, Lambrinidou told me that âengineering students are trained to almost never listen to the community. They never listen to the narratives, words, experiences and assessment.â [30] She said that while
Figure 2. Cartoon of Snyder with poisoned water. Photo taken from Creative Commons.
Edwardsâ contributions for handling the Flint crisis were âabsolutely essential,â she âalso has a critiqueâ of him. âI fear that the dominant narrative will be that the university came in and intervened as a scientific teamâ and solved the crisis. She said that âEdwards went into the policy and political community and in the end it exacerbated the power asymmetry that created the crisis.â She predicted the dominant narrative might become that the outside university was heroic and that a STEM scientist saved the day, which she regarded as a âproblematic contradiction.â [31]
âWe mythologize people in this culture,â she said, and miss the many levels of sacrifice by others. âSo the victimized are impacted even worse, by robbing us of the opportunity to really shine as agents of change.â[32] There had actually been a split between Edwards and many long-time citizen activists in Flint over Edwards âpushing us asideâ to work with Michigan state government. Reflecting the holistic ethos of the anthropologist, Lambrinidou researched everyone involved and made a case that there are plenty of heroes to go around.
âThe public might have amassed a great deal of knowledge that is technical and policy related but the media will keep turning the questioning of them to âhow are you feeling?â role of academia and the media essentially is to treat the community as victims,â she said at a 2017 conference. [33]
In fact, the response of the African-American community in Flint was massive. There was an emergence of new civic groups, including âCoalition for Clean Water,â âConcerned
Pastors for Social Actionâ (led by Rev. Alfred Harris, who, in February 2015, brought 13 pastors to the State Capitol in Lansing to demand Flint return to the cleaner Detroit River) and âWater You Fighting For,â co-founded by Melissa Mays, a mother of three. [34] There were marches, websites and free water bottle distributions by churches, nonprofits and even ex-convicts from a group called M.A.D.E. (Money, Attitude, Direction and Education), which helps released prisoners forge new lives. [35] According to the Flint Journal, which covered the crisis closely, one protest in September 2014 attracted hundreds of citizens outside a private fundraiser attended by Governor Snyder. [36] Local newspapers such as the Journal ran story after story from the first days of the crisis until the issue was finally picked up nationally, a year and a half later.
Environmental Racism in Flint
A Second Narrative
In âEnvironmental justice? Unjust Coverage of the Flint Water Crisis,â Derrick Jackson, an environmental writer for the Union of Concerned Scientists, wonders about âwhat catastrophes
might have been averted had the national media outlets stepped in sooner?â [37] He points out the long delay in national media attention, noting that âcomplaints of citizens were discounted when compared to the comments of officials; residents were portrayed as hopeless and downtrodden despite months of action, and narratives of âheroesâ excluded African American activists in a city that is 57% black.â He also notes the lack of newsroom diversity and the historic neglect of environmental racism stories by the national media as features of the mediaâs own institutional racism concerning blacks. The media âdid not âcredentialâ residents for their on-the-ground observation of what was coming out of their taps,â Jackson writes. âThey ignored all the resident activism such as street protests and bottled water drives for a year and a half.â [38] Jackson states that the mediaâs disregard for this very significant event
underscored this attitude.
âThen came the news that should have shocked the conscience of the nation,â he explains. âOn October 13 [2014], the Flint Journal reported that General Motors was disconnecting from the Flint water supply just five and a half months after the switch, saying that high chlorine levels in the water corroded engine crankshafts … if Flintâs water so rapidly rusted the metal of automotive parts, what business did human beings have drinking it?â [39]
At the same time, the Snyder administration quietly started supplying Flintâs government offices with bottled water. This was mostly ignored by the national media.
Peter Hammer, a lawyer at Wayne State University Law School, discusses the multiple ways race and racism have contributed to the Flint crisis, coining a new concept: âstrategic-structural racism.â He explains that structural racism concerns the âinter-institutional dynamics that produce and reproduce racially disparate outcomes over time.â This pertains to how the historic legacy of white privilege is embedded geographically as well as in health, education, income, transportation, housing and the environment, often manifested in ideas that bracket history such as âfiscal austerity.â Much of this is beyond everyday awareness. Strategic racism, on the other hand, âis the manipulation of intentional racism, structural racism and unconscious biases for political or economic gain,â whether or not racist intent is evident. Hammer argues that certain elements in Flintâs history created a âperfect stormâ for this crisis. [40]
First was the creation of the Emergency Management regime (âa political audacityâ). Second was the strategic idea to build the Karegnondi Water Authority (KWA), a new pipeline to transport water from Lake Huron.
Third was how the âfiscal austerity of Emergency Managers enabled and reinforced the strategic racism embedded in the second(to build the KWA).â[41]
This autocratic decision âdisregarded the lives of the citizens of Flint [and shows how]
the same players manipulated the rules of bond financing that cemented use of the Flint River as an interim drinking water source as a predicate for financing the distressed City of Flintâs participation in the KWA.â
Hammer demonstrates, in intricate financial detail, how the Emergency Management policy actually caused the Flint water crisis before it even began, since it was based on erroneous and racist assumptions. Moreover, there were no democratic avenues for Flintâs citizenry to stop it. In short, there would have been no fiscal crisis if there was no KWA. Hammer stresses that âthe notion of environmental justice is a good first step but it is important to move from environmental justice to environmental racism to structural racism to fully understand what happened in Flint.â [42]
Monica Lewis-Patrick, the president and co-founder of We the People of Detroit, puts her view of the issue in starker terms. âYou had the city of Detroit offer Flint a water contract that would have actually saved Flint $80 million over the course of ten years. But you have the Governor and the use of this private company [Veolia â which advised that Detroitâs water system should be privatized] that is interested in privatizing water globally actually advise Flint to purchase and invest in building their own water system, which was the KWA, the Karegnondi Water Authority. Well that system was never intended to provide potable water. What it was intended to do was provide water for when the governor is out of office [in 2019] â he already has plans to create a parallel system for fracking!â[43] If true, the Flint story, when thoroughly researched and told, will rival the well-known 1974 movie Chinatown (about water politics in Los Angeles) for all its political intrigues and deceptions about water theft.
The Specter of Neoliberal Fascism
A Third Narrative
The first two narratives discuss how government suppressed studies, offered false reassurances, were swept up in structural/strategic racist ideologies and practices, underwrote secret profit-making schemes and attempted to crush democracy. These are just a few aspects of what theorist Sheldon Wolin (2008) called âinverted totalitarianismâ 44 and what Henry Giroux calls neoliberal fascism. [45]
Unfortunately, these alarming concepts now fit U.S. reality in the Age of Trump. Theoretical language is important here â for clarity, for historical reminders, for a sense of urgency.
The Flint water tower – looking creepy. Photo Taken from Creative Commons.
All words leave remainders, as semioticians remind us,46 and indeed the poetry and power of words as metaphors are important in struggle. And Hannah Arendt cautions that âthe protean elements of fascism always run the risk of crystalizing into new forms.â [47]
Sheldon Wolin was among the first theorists in recent times to offer a name as well as a penetrating description of our era in his 2008 classic Democracy Incorporated: Managed Democracy and the Specter of Inverted Totalitarianism. [48] Far from being exhausted by its 20th century versions, âwould be totalitarians now have available technologies of control, intimidation and mass manipulation far surpassing those of that earlier time,â Wolin says. Unlike classic totalitarianism with its strong central control and rigid citizen mobilization, our times represent the political coming of age of corporate power and the political demobilization of the citizenry. With the constant downsizing, privatization, and outsourcing and the dismantling of the welfare state, the resulting state of insecurity makes the public feel so helpless that it is less likely to become politically active, he explains.
Flint was such a âmanaged democracy,â and the emergency manager performed the job of âmanager of democracy.â The crisis title was a capable veneer to publicly present Michigan government with official, neutral-sounding authority to overrule democratic processes and exclude citizens from decision-making power that would have prevented a catastrophe. It offered legitimation for the collapse of local democracy. It was a device that attempted to render the population passive and impotent. It was built on a foundation of primitive accumulation and structural racism, enabling government to amass even more power.
In 2018, social theorist Henry Giroux distinguished our present time as a new era of neoliberal fascism, or extreme authoritarian capitalism. Giroux agrees with much of Wolinâs analysis but notes that Wolin, now deceased, had not witnessed the crushing developments of the past 10 years: the war on youth, the expansive level of disposability, the power of the new media and the rise of neo-fascism. He points out that Wolin âhad nothing to say about the growing culture of cruelty, the rise of white supremacy, and the extreme mobilization of the conditions that make fascism tolerable again.â [49]
Critical Pedagogy against Civic Illiteracy
In my anthropology classes, I often see students with Ice Mountain water bottles. I ask them, âWhere do you think your bottled water comes from?â They do not know and are shocked to find out. I discovered the same kind of civic illiteracy in 2002 when I was teaching anthropology in Flint as an adjunct professor for the University of Michigan-Flint. I discussed the culture of capitalism, studentsâ jobs and their everyday lives, inquiring how students thought Flint affected their health and personalities. Students knew next to nothing about the history of their city. When I asked their views of Roger and Me, by then well-established as a groundbreaking documentary, I was shocked to receive mostly blank stares.
The best picture of my students with Ice Mountain water bottles. Photo by Brian McKenna.
Dumbfounded, I asked the class of 52 how many had seen Mooreâs 1989 film; only a few had. âWell, how many of you have even heard about it?â Again, most had not. I sought to help remedy this. So I placed an order for a 16-millimeter reelto- reel projector (it was pre-digital times) the following week and showed it to the class. They loved the film, hollering and hooting at people they actually knew. âThereâs my aunt.â âLook at that guy, I know him!â As they drew connections between their plights and historical currents, one student asked, âWhy hasnât anybody showed us this before?â
These students lived inside history but were not aware of their place in it. So do we all, to one degree or another. This immobilizes us. Without understanding how we are saturated by capitalism in our everyday lives, we cannot properly identify the most effective tools to combat it, let alone expand our imaginations to end it. As C. Wright Mills wrote in The Politics of Truth, âThe city is a structure composed of milieu; the peoples in the milieu tend to be rather detached from one another … they do not understand the structure of their society.â[50] It is the task of educators, journalists, activists and artists to teach students the hidden structures of their cities and to link that knowledge to the worldwide crisis of capital.
Consider the history of capitalâs relationship with Flint. There is the story of primitive accumulation, taking of the commons by law, war and taxation. In Michigan history, the Anishinabek â who had thrived for more than 7,000 years â were cast onto reserves, surrounded by hostile neighbors and âsubject to intense indoctrination.â Anthropologist Charles Cleland called this process âethnocide.â[51] Flint and Detroit are two of the most racially segregated cities in the country, with ethnic enclaves that mimic the
isolated Indian reserves of the 19th-century Anishinabek.
In the 1930s, the famous sit-down strike against GM augured the birth of the United Auto Workers, a proud moment of advance. In the 1980s through the 2000s, GM struck back, pulling up to 80,000 jobs and sending them to cheap labor havens (citizens had no democratic vote on that topic). In this case, General Motors treated Flint like a âtap and sink,â tapping its river water (like a faucet) to build cars, despoiling its land, toxifying Flintâs air and sinking effluent into its soils and river as well into the bodies of its citizens, poisoning the town, then leaving.
In Flint, why did it take unpaid citizens, activist community groups, a Chicago-based EPA activist, a medical doctor and an âoutsideâ professor from Virginia Tech to help expose some of the important hidden truths? Where were Michigan universities? Without fighting back, public universities are becoming knowledge factories for sale to the highest bidder. The constant fear of losing oneâs job makes too many workers and professors engage in self-censorship, a humiliating experience. Activist citizens are branded by controlling interests as âtroublemakersâ and âoutsiders,â isolated and derided, in fear of retaliation at their jobs. They learn â through praxis â that their jobs, schools and universities can resemble psychic prisons, ruled by managed bureaucracies of interlocking directorships who surveil deviance and manage noncompliance through blacklisting, bullying, mobbing and an audit culture of micromanagement. The local media are compliant, too, more interested in crime in the streets than crime in the suites.
Some journalists say the problem goes much deeper than the loss of newspapers, TV newsrooms and radio news. As Robert McChesney and John Nichols put it bluntly, âEvery theory of popular government tells us democracy is unsustainable without an informed citizenry and journalism that monitors the powerful. Yet credible journalism is disappearing and the capacity to monitor is withering.â[52]
Conclusion
âThe Fire in the Flint Never Shows Until it is Struckâ
Old English Proverb
Flint is a good model to understand the life cycle of a company town: from boom to bust, toxic town to ghost town. It also illustrates multiple avenues of collective resistance. Flint is an excellent case to study with regard to David Harveyâs Seventeen Contradictions and the End of Capitalism. [53] Harvey details several processes by which capital proceeds with its incessant accumulation of the earth: devouring nature, crippling people and turning âthe commonsâ into private commodities for capitalâs gain.
A proper education involves active norm breaking, incessant questioning and acts of civil disobedience, when called for. It is civic engagement with attitude. As Paulo Freire taught, education is highly political: it is a struggle for meaning and a battle over power relationships.[54] The second phrase is the key one, for it requires a praxis of constructive troublemaking. The critical pedagogy school of education requires enacting our pedagogies, curricula and practices. Complacency is no longer an option for social scientists.
The Flint water crisis sparked rapper Bootleg(i.e., Ira Dorsey) to write a song, âThe City of Leadâ [55] (Bootleg of the Dayton Family 2017), where he angrily takes on Governor Snyder for all the hatred, poverty and racism that exist in his hometown. [56] No one has been prosecuted, including the governor, for poisoning his family and friends, Dorsey says. âIf I poisoned one person, Iâd be in jail.â [57] The song contains a fusillade of lyrics, but one line caught my attention: âWe got lead in the water; we got lead in our guns.â Like a flintlock. For all of Michiganâs efforts to contain and control Flintâs citizenry, the spirit of resistance has never completely faltered. The full story is yet to be told. The fight is never over.
In 2010, the racial makeup of the McDowell County was 89.1% white, 9.5% black or African American, 0.2% American Indian, 0.1% Asian, 0.0% from other races, and 1.1% from two or more races.
In 2010, the racial makeup of the McDowell County was 89.1% white, 9.5% black or African American, 0.2% American Indian, 0.1% Asian, 0.0% from other races, and 1.1% from two or more races.
One Response
You think 5 years is bad….
Clean Drinking Water Comes To West Virginia Town After 17-Year Hiatus.
https://www.wbur.org/hereandnow/2019/08/19/clean-drinking-water-west-virginia
Where was the media coverage?
In 2010, the racial makeup of the McDowell County was 89.1% white, 9.5% black or African American, 0.2% American Indian, 0.1% Asian, 0.0% from other races, and 1.1% from two or more races.