By now, everyone knows: Black Lives Matter (BLM) protesters shut down a Bernie Sanders campaign event in Seattle, Washington.

The scene was chaotic. Two women jumped on stage, told Sanders that they were “going to shut down the event,” and proceeded to scream at someone who looked like he was an event organizer. Sanders, somewhat confused and obviously frustrated, watched the commotion unfold from the back of the stage.

During the protesters’ emotional tirade, Sanders’ supporters were called “white supremacists” and “a bunch of white racists.” To be fair, one of the protesters made some excellent points about institutional racism in Seattle, but her delivery was off-putting and the action incoherent. Hence, I doubt anyone in the crowd gained anything useful.

We Want to Win, Right?

So far, because of my criticisms of BLM, I’ve been called “another white liberal” and to “respect the opinions of black people by keeping my mouth shut and supporting their actions.” Honestly, none of this is new. In my personal experience, identity politics has been one of the most toxic components of activism.

In the meantime, let me be crystal clear: progressive-left political movements in the US need unity, not further fragmentation. And they need to contemplate who their enemies are, and who their enemies are not. Bernie Sanders is not BLM’s enemy, nor are his supporters. And let’s make something else clear: there is fluidity among the movements. I routinely attend BLM events. I went to Ferguson last August with local activists to show our support. At the same time, I’ve been going to local Bernie events in the hope of meeting more like-minded people. And I’ve been working with white progressives for almost a decade. In other words, I work with a wide range of political organizations and movements. I like it that way — keeps me grounded and critical.

That being said, any event or action that doesn’t contribute to building a bigger, broader movement, should immediately be criticized and shunned. In the 1960s, plenty of vanguardists ruined what were previously vibrant organizations and movements. Throughout history, opportunistic people and political entities have benefitted from the hard work and sacrifice of others. If we allow these trends to continue, we won’t have serious movements in this country, we’ll have loosely affiliated groups of pissed off Americans who banter online and occasionally attend protests and symbolic actions (some would argue that’s already the case).

Let me be even more honest: I’ve been guilty of feeding the toxicity. It goes without saying, but I’m not a perfect person. I make mistakes, and I’m willing to admit so. I’ve made the mistake of letting emotions dominate my thought process while reflecting on recent political events. In some ways, I guess it’s only natural. However, I’m want to grow. And I’m willing to admit that I’ve made mistakes in the past, and will continue to do so, but with the understanding that I’m always seeking individual progress and collective success.

After all, I want to win.

In my opinion, in order to win, we’re going to need as many people as possible. Other people argue differently, as they believe only 5% of the population is needed to conduct a “successful revolution.” I disagree. In my thinking, previous revolutions have been somewhat successful, but largely unsuccessful. Regardless, they were inadequate.

The challenges human beings face in the coming century require unprecedented political movements capable of recreating a world that’s habitable, just and peaceful for what will soon be a planet of 9 billion people.

The Toxicity of Social Media

Meanwhile, activist friends from around the country have been calling me for the last 48 hours. My friends who support Sanders are bewildered, some of them angry. My friends who support BLM’s actions are surprised, but also angry at the backlash they’ve received since Saturday’s protest.

All in all, it’s a bad situation. Anyone who’s painting a different picture should take a sober view of recent events because I don’t think BLM’s latest intervention will produce worthwhile results, at least not in the short term.

While social media is viewed as a ridiculous platform (rightfully so in many ways) by a good portion of older people, the majority of Millennials are obtaining their news and political information from social media platforms such as Facebook and Twitter. Indeed, the debates and conversations that take place on social media are a good indication of Millennial ideology and political thought. Therefore it’s important to recognize that the arena of social media can have a profound impact on the ways in which younger people think about particular issues or events.

So far, the social media scene is bad, as I’ve seen more divisiveness and anger from my activist friends than at any time in recent memory. Thus, the question is: How can writers, organizers, artists and activists contribute to a process of reconciliation? Can white progressives and radical black activists work together?

Navigating the World of Identity Politics

It’s interesting, back in 2008, the problem was the opposite: black activists were rallying around Obama while white radicals unleashed devastating critiques of what was soon to become the nation’s first black president. Today, the problem is the opposite, as many white progressives, and even some self-identified leftists, are backing Sanders, while many black activists (mostly younger) are shunning the electoral process and opting for more radical avenues of political involvement.

Back in 2008, people were telling me, “Vince, you have to respect the opinions of black people!” At the time, that meant keeping my mouth shut about Obama’s foreign policy positions because I was a white activist who needed to “understand my place.” In hindsight, all of it seems ridiculous and unproductive.

For instance, my Arab and Muslim friends have always understood Obama to be an imperialist scumbag, but they’ve been reluctant to say so in public spaces for fear of social alienation and state repression. During Obama’s presidential run, I remember attending an event in Chicago where an older black woman screamed at a young Muslim man who was criticizing Obama’s stance on Afghanistan. At the time, I remember thinking, “Which group is more oppressed? Does it matter?” I thought, “The Muslim guy is right, but how could he better convey his message in order to build partnerships with black activists?” By the end of the verbal exchange, the young Muslim man was basically in tears, explaining his family’s decades-long struggle against US imperialism, while the elderly black woman, also almost in tears, talked about her experiences growing up in the segregated Deep South. After all was said and done, there was no reconciliation, only fear, mistrust, confusion and anger.

Nonetheless, I understood that Obama’s presidency, for better or worse, was a symbolically important event for many black people. As a white person, and as someone who was interested in making the antiwar movement more diverse, hence more powerful, I did my best to respect the opinions of black people who felt differently than I did about Obama’s policies. After all, talking trash online or writing an article is much different than sitting in a black church in Gary, Indiana, talking to real people, with real concerns and emotions, about the horrific legacies of white supremacy and institutional racism, and why the future must remain hopeful. Without doubt, those experiences were humbling and educational.

In other words, I wouldn’t walk into a black church and call Obama a murderer, a scumbag, or a criminal, regardless of what I thought at the time. I would talk about the state and how it functions. I would talk about the military, militarism and the history of US Empire. I would talk about the CIA and NSA, drone technology and so forth. In short, I focused on institutions, which always transcend term limits and personalities. In hindsight, I think that was a reasonable approach. People respected my opinions and we eventually talked about more important things than individual presidents or politicians: we talked about systems of power.

In the end, the antiwar movement never recognized that the immediate concerns and primary emergencies of black communities were quite different than the immediate concerns of the white organizers and activists who largely made up the antiwar movement. Indeed, the antiwar movement focused on huge international issues (global spying, US Empire, drones, war crimes, torture, etc.). Whereas many black organizers and activists were primarily focused on local issues (housing, schools, health care) or issues that disproportionately impact black communities (policing, prisons, war on drugs), and understandably so, for those issues have been neglected by many white liberals, leftists and progressives, although I would argue unintentionally neglected.

Unity Among Bernie’s Supporters and BLM

Clearly, black radicals, white progressives and Muslims around the world should be working together to fight against militarism and imperialism, but ideology gets in the way. The same is true of BLM activists and Bernie’s supporters: dogmatic ideology is clouding the organizing process.

We need BLM activists and Bernie’s supporters to work together — that’s the bottom line. There’s no way around it. If BLM hopes to achieve meaningful reforms, let alone a drastic reconfiguration of society, they will undoubtedly require the help of white progressives. Likewise, if Bernie’s supporters hope to achieve their populist aims, they will need to partner with BLM activists around the country.

As a result, leftists, liberals and progressives would be wise to pick up the phone, send an email or otherwise reach out to each other. It’s not that hard. I’m tired of hearing people say, “Well, that’s the sort of work you do, not me. I’m a radical activist, therefore I don’t work with those capitulating liberals!” Or, from the other angle, “I’m a liberal activist, hence I’m not willing to work with those silly radicals!” This sort of self-righteous nonsense needs to stop. Again, I’m guilty of it, but I’m also willing to make changes, and have. If we hope to win, we all need to make some changes.

Furthermore, we need to set a high standard for success. To be clear, success is not getting your “five minutes of fame” on national TV news programs or online chat forums, nor is it “calling out” our allies. True success is forming long-lasting, broad, diverse, robust and coherent political coalitions capable of effectively navigating the challenges of the 21st century: climate change, neoliberal capitalism, global surveillance, militarism, etc.

Since Saturday, I’ve been asking myself, “Other than writing articles, what can I do to contribute?”

Right now, I’m planning on organizing a public forum with BLM activists and Bernie’s supporters. Since I’ve only known the Sanders folks for a few weeks, it might take some time, but it will be worth the wait. I know plenty of people in the local BLM group who would be excited about the opportunity, so it’s worth a shot. After all, these groups need to be in the same room, not arguing online. They need to meet each other in the flesh and experience true human interactions, not mediated digital discussions.

If my friends and I can effectively reach out to the local black community, get enough buy-in from Bernie’s local supporters, and properly promote the event, I think we can do something really worthwhile. At the very least, we’ll be opening previously sealed lines of dialogue.

In the meantime, I’m begging my leftist friends to engage with Bernie’s campaign, and my liberal friends to work with BLM, not because I hold any admiration for Bernie, or affinity for BLM, but because I’m trying to be ruthlessly pragmatic in my thinking and organizing. If people are content with the limited reach the US Left currently has, then maybe this essay was useless. On the other hand, if you think we can do better, if you think we’re going to need to be more serious, committed and disciplined to win, then I beg you to change your behavior and thinking as I will mine.

Growing Pains

To conclude, most people are simply confused. Slowly but surely I’ve been able to plug my neighbors, family members and friends into political movements and events, but it’s a slow process.

Recently, I gave my next door neighbor Howard Zinn’s You Can’t be Neutral on a Moving Train. Matt’s a convicted felon. Today, when we were talking, he said, “Man, I just feel like there’s nothing I can really do. I can’t vote. And I don’t feel like I have any say-so in what happens with the government.” Hence, I gave him some Zinn to read. Matt’s a smart and beautiful person, filled with compassion and grace. In due time, I’m sure he’ll become empowered and active.

In the end, it’s important to recognize that the processes of politicization and radicalization are arduous endeavors. Growing pains are undoubtedly part of the game.

Yet, like growing up, worthwhile advice is priceless. When I was a 22 year old activist, fresh out of the Marine Corps and still reeling from my horrific experiences in Iraq, I thought the whole damn world should care about the war, that it should be a priority in the minds of everyone. Soon enough, I learned that people have different primary concerns and interests. I learned that some people, while opposed to the war, really didn’t know how to act on their beliefs. Moreover, I watched some of my antiwar friends burn out and fade away. Most of the activists I came up with are no longer active. They’ve either retreated from activist work because of their own personal lives, or because they were fed up with “movement politics.”

To me, that’s a shame, because so many smart people have walked away. They’ve walked away not because they’re “sellouts” or “closet liberals,” but because the movement can be toxic and uninviting. Our job is to create movements that are inviting and nurturing. So, let’s get back to work.