My dear friends and comrades,

Let me start out by saying: thank you for saving my life.

And that’s not hyperbole: it took me a while to find you, but when I did, you helped guide me in a meaningful direction. Instead of drowning myself in booze or escaping into a world of drugs, I found the antiwar movement and the world of progressive political activism. For that, I am extremely thankful.

When I was 18 years old, you might have found me on one of those YouTube clips progressives post when they catch ignorant teenagers saying ignorant things on camera. You know the sort of clips I’m referring to, I’m sure. Usually, someone with a camera confronts a couple young people, asks them a series of questions and from there the laughs take care of themselves.

At that time, I didn’t care about politics, or race, or culture or anything, really. I did care about sports and working out. I cared about sex. And I liked to party with friends, but that was about it. Superficial, indeed, but I’m assuming my story is similar to many Millennials in the U.S. Overall, I was an apolitical creature.

Then, I joined the Marine Corps, for reasons I’ve explained in the past, so I’ll skip the sentimental story and simply say that I was bored, fully identified with a hyper-masculine culture and wasn’t interested in working a bullshit job or going to university, so I ended up in the military. Plus, I grew up around guns and was in great physical shape, so it didn’t seem that crazy.

Once bootcamp was over and I finished the School of Infantry, I was exposed to the work of Hunter S. Thompson and began to explore the counterculture movements of the 1960s (music, film, politics, literature). I knew, for the first time in my life that I had made a profound mistake.

I knew, for better or worse, that I didn’t belong in the United States Marine Corps. Hell, I hated taking orders and I despised the people giving them. To me, the military was hell. In some ways, it was even worse than the war. At least in the war we had some limited personal freedoms and there was much less day-to-day rigidity.

Anyway, my entrance into the world of electoral politics came in 2004. After my friend took me to see Michael Moore’s film, Fahrenheit 9/11, I felt like someone opened a valve that has never closed. The days of ignorance were over.

After reading Hunter S. Thompson and watching Moore’s film, I was convinced I was a liberal. After reading Chomsky, I was convinced I was an anarchist. After reading more and more, I remain convinced that I’d rather not identify as anything. Yet, I still tell people I’m a leftist and work with the Left.

Why? I don’t know. I guess it’s an easy way to identify oneself when speaking publicly or having conversations about organizing and so forth.

Regardless, that’s not what’s important. What’s important is that I would like my leftist friends, or at least those who identify as such, to rethink their position on Bernie Sanders’ U.S. Presidential campaign.

To be clear, I don’t work for his campaign, nor is anyone paying me to say this (I always think it’s important to disclose any self-interests if/when they exist). I say this as someone who is fully committed to radically transforming society. To me, none of Bernie’s policies are radical. In fact, they are the sort of policies people in this country should have been enjoying for the last several decades.

That aside, the point I’m making is that Bernie isn’t a radical, at least not in my thinking. Nor do I believe that Bernie Sanders is a savior or someone who can “fix” or “solve” the many ills of the world. Here, there are two angles to approach the election from: 1) those who actually think Bernie can beat Clinton, and 2) those who basically understand that Sanders isn’t going to get the nomination, but remain engaged because they hope to stay in contact with the like-minded people they’ve met along the way. And of course, there are those who simultaneously hold both views.

Let’s assume Sanders can indeed win the Democratic nomination (an assumption many would take issue with, no doubt). In my thinking, this would be a great outcome. Not only will Clinton’s neoliberalism and hawkish policies be rejected by Democratic voters, but also Bernie’s policies will be on the biggest political stage in the country. And that’s a great thing. Over 130 million voters will be forced to debate the merits of democratic socialism. How is this a bad thing?

Now, let’s assume Sanders can’t win the Democratic nomination. Okay, no big deal. Where do we go from there? That’s the question. What will happen to the millions and millions of people who support and have donated and volunteered for his campaign? Do they continue to organize as Democrats? Do they move to issue-orientated campaigns? Do they start alternative parties? Those are the interesting and important questions to ask after the election has ended, regardless of the outcome.

The Global Capitalist system will continue to fail the majority of people around the world. Hence, there will be more and more resistance as time moves along. Movements like Occupy and Sanders’ campaign are only the tip of the iceberg in terms of class struggle in the U.S.

Progressive movements have many internal divisions. Sanders’ campaign is lacking Latinos and African Americans. The same divisions were on display during the 2015 Chicago mayoral race between Chuy Garcia and Rahm Emanuel. The majority of black voters supported neoliberal Rahm over the more progressive Chuy. Radical white environmentalists are doing great work with indigenous communities in the Great Plains region and in the Pacific Northwest, but those movements are detached from urban movements in the U.S. and vice versa. It’s not as if there is some clear coalition taking shape because of the Sanders campaign, environmental activism or Black Lives Matter. Right now, nothing is clear.

What is clear is that many of my leftist friends have rejected the Sanders campaign from the very beginning. Yes, I understand the critiques. They are necessary and important. In fact, I’ve written about the failures of Sanders’ foreign policy positions in the past, so please spare me the history lesson.

Further, also spare me the moralistic and ethical bantering. I’ve given my life to the antiwar movement and continue to give my life to progressive political movements. I’ve sat down with Iraqis and Afghans whose homes, families and communities were destroyed by U.S. drones, bombs and soldiers. The horrors of war are an omnipresent force in my life and work.

However, I’m not insane or ignorant enough to believe that a Sanders U.S. Presidency wouldn’t be better than Clinton, Trump, Bush, Rubio or Cruz making decisions as Commander in Chief. Anyone arguing that even marginal differences wouldn’t have profound implications shouldn’t be taken seriously, and probably isn’t.

Anecdotally, I can tell you that my friends and comrades who don’t live in the U.S. would love to see Bernie Sanders elected. To them, it makes a great difference who runs the Empire. Yes, as Noam Chomsky routinely points out, whoever is elected U.S. President will be elected to run an Empire – no question about it. But again, marginal differences matter to those on the receiving end of drone strikes and bombing missions.

You know, my first act of political rebellion was to put a John Kerry 2004 sticker on my kevlar helmet. Of course it didn’t take long for one of my higher-ups to chew my ass for pulling such a brazen stunt. At one point, I even had a commanding officer ask if I wanted to be a piece of shit traitor like Kerry who ratted on his fellow soldiers. Less than three years later, I was testifying to U.S. Congress about war crimes and atrocities.

Most importantly, none of that would have been possible without the help of hundreds of committed activists, friends and comrades who guided me along the way. At times, we differed in opinion, as any reasonable friend should. Yet I’ve remained engaged. And that engagement was kick-started by electoral politics.

It starts that way for a lot of people. Just a few days ago, I received a message from a woman I used to work with at the local pub. Now, she’s organizing “Women for Bernie” events in Michigan City, Indiana, which, let me tell you, is not a hotbed for radical activism. Yet, she’s engaged in a campaign to elect a democratic socialist in a rather racist, segregated and impoverished Rust Belt town. Abby’s story is not unique, but it is important. The Left would be wise to recognize such.

In the end, the majority of people don’t go from apolitical citizen to radical activist overnight. Some do, sure. But most don’t. And it’s important for leftists and radical activists to keep this in mind as the 2016 process rolls along.

Indeed, there are future radicals in the midst. Who’s going to organize them? Who will be their mentors?

Moreover, how will they perceive the Left once the election is over? Will they see a bunch of lonely, disempowered curmudgeons bantering away on their keyboards, denouncing anything they see as “not radical enough?”

Or, will they see a Left that, while holding little power, still maintains worthwhile values and an anticapitalist critique that’s necessary for planetary survival?

Well, that’s up to us.

In Solidarity,

Vince

Vincent Emanuele

Vincent Emanuele is a combat veteran, writer, and activist who lives and works in Los Angeles, California. Vincent testified to U.S. Congress in 2008 about war crimes and atrocities after refusing a third deployment to Iraq with the United States Marine Corps. Since then, he has worked with a wide range of social movements, community organizations, and labor unions. His writings and interviews have been featured in ZNet, CounterPunch, Alternet, TruthOut, and Verso. Vincent is also a contributor to the anthology ‘Paths of Dissent: Soldiers Speak Out Against America’s Misguided Wars’ (Metropolitan, 2022). He can be reached at vincent.emanuele333@gmail.com