| QUESTION: When one reads you, one has the feeling
that the image of today's world you have is quite close to Orwell's
1984: On one side a massive and repressive totalitarianism which
doesn't hide its face, or whose face is easy to unmask (the U.S.S.R.);
on the other a decentralized, subtle and crafty totalitarianism which
gives the appearance, but only the appearance, of freedom (the U.S.),
and which, in the final analysis, is more dangerous because it
succeeds in side-tracking us and making fools of us: liberals of all
colors.
CHOMSKY: I would not use the term "totalitarian" to refer to the
American system of "brainwashing under freedom." It is, nevertheless,
a remarkably effective system, a fact that is rarely recognized,
analyzed or understood. Herman and I give many examples. To cite
merely one case: In 1962, the U.S. Air Force began large-scale
bombardment of rural South Vietnam, proceeding subsequently to
full-scale invasion in support of a client regime that Washington knew
had no legitimacy. Almost twenty years have passed, and I have never
seen a reference in mainstream journalism or scholarship to "U.S.
aggression" or the "U.S. invasion of South Vietnam." Rather, the U.S.
was "defending" South Vietnam -- unwisely, the doves maintain. Perhaps
one will be able to say the same about the Soviet press in twenty
years, with regard to Afghanistan. This record of subservience to the
state propaganda system is particularly noteworthy in that it is
achieved without force. The system operates through a complex of
inducements, privileges, class interests, etc., relying on the
tendency of much of the intelligentsia to conform to power (while
proclaiming their courageous independence of mind), and the
unwillingness to endure vilification, lies, and denial of the
opportunity to work and publish, as punishment for telling the truth.
I imagine that you can easily find analogues in France. How much
principled opposition was there to the French attack on Indochina, for
example? How much protest has there been over the fact that France is
the main supplier of arms to Chile and South Timor, or that, as
Business Week happily comments, French military forces "help keep
West Africa safe for French, American, and other foreign oilmen"? It
is much easier to deplore the other fellow's crimes.
QUESTION: Seen from France, your evolution -- to the extent that it
is perceived this way -- is somewhat bothersome, and even a bit
old-fashioned. Indeed, in the evolution of ideas in France, people --
at least a part of the left intellectuals -- are now overcoming the
(retrospective) illusion due to the Marxist analysis according to
which the so-called formal liberties, those of bourgeois democracy,
are not worth anything, and that only those who are naive or members
of the ruling class (which are not exclusive terms) can soak in them,
while a deep analysis of society, analysis which can only be a
Marxist, Marxian or Marxiforme one, reveals, under deceptive
appearances, the servitude and at least the alienation generated
equally by the hard totalitarianism (without formal freedoms) and by
the soft one (with them). Thus, in a very paradoxical way, your
evolution ends up taking a smell of Stalinism completely unforeseen.
CHOMSKY: The reaction you describe is remarkable. It is obvious
that the so-called "libertés formelles" represented an achievement of
enormous significance. The task for the present is to extend these
achievements to new domains, particularly, by placing decision-making
over production and distribution in the hands of producers and
communities, while dismantling authoritarian structures. The "analyse
approfondie" to which you refer is not only extremely superficial, but
is also helplessly misguided. The "totalitarisme dure" of the
societies that some (not I) call "socialist" does not begin to
approach the guarantee of freedom and rights in the industrial
democracies, whatever historical reasons one can give for this fact.
Surely this is well understood among the serious left in France.
Furthermore, in libertarian socialist circles, the true nature of the
Soviet regime was obvious from the start, when Lenin and Trotsky
destroyed the Soviets and factory councils, instituted the
"militarization of labor," etc., and indeed was fully expected before.
I am often amazed by what I read about this matter in the French
literature, not only by ex-Leninists; for example, the ignorant
comment of Paul Thibaud that prior to Solzhenitsyn, "toutes les
présentations" of "soviétisme" were within a "trotskyante" framework,
or his plea for "un nouvel universalism," a position so elementary
that rational people would be embarrassed to express it, except
perhaps in a Sunday School sermon for children.
QUESTION: Continuing in the same vein, this smell of Stalinism is
supported by the pessimism which you show, for example, with respect
to the role played by American public opinion in bringing the Vietnam
war to an end. If public opinion is indefinitely manipulated and
manipulatable, as you seem to want to demonstrate, is freedom of
expression and, in particular, freedom of the press, worth defending?
CHOMSKY: My view is entirely different. I believe, and have often
written, that the peace movement had an enormous impact on U.S.
foreign policy, far more than I ever expected in the early years, when
I was being shouted off of platforms and was futilely attempting to
organize resistance. The movement was spontaneous, leaderless,
courageous, and extremely effective. It had to escape the constraints
of the ideological system, and did so. The fact caused great
consternation among elite circles over what they saw as a "crisis of
democracy" (Michel Crozier, Samuel Huntington, et al.), in which the
public was illegitimately playing a role in public affairs; and also
among much of the intelligentsia who were appalled by this display of
independence of mind and courageous action, particularly among
students. To cite one case, consider Alain Besançon, who describes
students in 1968 as "pus" that had to be "squeezed out of the
universities," while Blacks were "a curse." There is now a major
effort to rewrite the history of this period so as to deny the
importance of mass political action. If what you describe is a
widely-held interpretation of my views, then it is simply a part of
this reconstruction of a history more tolerable to elite groups.
This effort at historical reconstruction is notable in France as
well. Consider, again, Paul Thibaud, who writes in Le Monde
that I belonged to that part of the left that "a confié l'avenir des
libertés vietnamiennes à la bonne volontée supposée des dirigeants du
Nord" and failed to consider "le fait que la grande majorité de la
population du Sud préférait une solution du type 'troisième force',
plutôt que de type Vietcong" (a fact unknown to U.S. government
specialists, who regarded the NLF [National Liberation Front] as the
only mass-based political organization, much to their distress,
and dismissed the "third force" as insignificant).
To begin with, this is sheer fabrication. I always stressed
the obvious fact that U.S. aggression was designed to prevent the
development of neutralist options (including those of the "third
force"), and warned that the consequences of this aggression would be
to "create a situation in which, indeed, North Vietnam will
necessarily dominate Indochina, for no other viable society will
remain" (1969). More interesting, however, is Thibaud's belief that an
opponent of U.S. aggression must have been a supporter of Hanoi. A
perfect victim of the U.S. propaganda system, Thibaud repeats this
absurd claim, which was, of course, designed to deflect attention from
the U.S. attack against the rural society of South Vietnam, where 80%
of the population lived. Had Thibaud bothered to look at the writings
of mine that he discusses, he would know that it was precisely the
attack against the South that I most insistently condemned, noting the
obvious consequences, which have in fact ensued. He will not find a
word to support his false and ignorant charges, but to the true
believer it is simply inconceivable that one can oppose U.S.
aggression exactly as one opposes Soviet aggression, or reject the
official doctrine that the war was a conflict between the U.S. and
North Vietnam.
QUESTION: Even when I read you, I have the feeling that the
pessimism of your analysis raises questions about the usefulness of
your book. Supposing that there are minds that are free enough to read
you, the implacable mechanisms that you describe will only make
impotent and isolated poor souls of them.
CHOMSKY: Quite the contrary. In fact, our books are more widely
read than those I wrote at the height of the Vietnam war. Contrary to
what is often assumed, American public opinion has shifted away from
the blind conformism of earlier years. Compare Vietnam and El
Salvador. The U.S. intervention in El Salvador is about at the level
of Vietnam in 1960. The level of protest, however, is reminiscent of
1966-67, when hundreds of thousands of U.S. troops had invaded South
Vietnam. And it has been effective in imposing some barriers to U.S.
support for state terrorism in El Salvador.
QUESTION: So I want to ask you: Who is the book addressed to and
what effect do you expect?
CHOMSKY: These books are written for people who want to understand
the social reality in which they live. We hope that the effect will be
to aid those who are attempting to maintain the "crisis of democracy"
and, specifically, to bring about fundamental changes in U.S. foreign
policy. And there are many of them. I cannot possibly accept a
fraction of the invitations I receive to speak about these subjects,
although most of the journals are closed.
QUESTION: How do you reconcile your pessimism with the intransigent
defense of freedom of expression that you preached elsewhere?
CHOMSKY: It should be unnecessary to stress that freedom of
expression should always be defended with vigor and commitment. In
fact, the "bourgeois freedoms" that are often derided by people who
regard themselves as "on the left" are precisely what allowed the
major mass movements to develop in the U.S., despite the efforts of
political and intellectual elites to contain them, and despite a
considerable amount of state terrorism, directed particularly against
Blacks who were such a "curse," but against many others too.
QUESTION: In this respect, although my opinions as interviewer are
without interest or consequences, to fill the distance that separates
us (in writing), allow me to interpolate here that I very much liked
the article of yours that ended up as a preface to Thion's book on the
Faurisson affair and that I approve of it without reservation.
CHOMSKY: Thank you for your comments. Perhaps I should clarify,
once again, that my statement was not written as a preface to the
book, which I did not know existed, and that I asked to have it
withdrawn, though too late to affect publication a few weeks after I
wrote it, a fact that has been subjected to much absurd and malicious
comment in the French press that I will not review.
QUESTION: That leads me to ask you whether, afterwards, you have
had the curiosity of interesting yourself in the substance of the
affair?
CHOMSKY: My interest in this affair has been quite limited. I was
asked to sign a petition calling on authorities to protect Faurisson's
civil rights, and did so. I sign innumerable petitions of this nature,
and do not recall ever having refused to sign one. I assumed that the
matter would end there. It did not, because a barrage of lies in
France, claiming, among other absurdities, that by defending
Faurisson's civil rights I was defending his views. I then wrote the
statement mentioned before. This and similar comments of mine evoked a
new wave of falsification.
For example, in the Le Monde letter I mentioned earlier,
Thibaud wrote that I had condemned "toute l'intelligentsia française,"
without qualifications. In fact, my statement began by emphasizing
that I would comment on "certain segments of the French
intelligentsia... Certainly, what I say does not apply to many others,
who maintain a firm commitment to intellectual integrity... I would
not want these comments to be misunderstood as applying beyond their
specific scope." Le Monde refused to print my response to this
and similar absurdities. Similarly, Le Matin refused to print
my response to ludicrous charges by Attali and Lévy, who claimed that
I was opposing protest against Pol Pot, their sole grounds being that
I had testified at the United Nations about U.S.-backed massacres in
Timor (which, incidentally, I described as comparable to the Pol Pot
massacres, as indeed they were). It is striking that in France, alone
in Europe, the press has regularly refused to grant me the right of
response to lies and slander, though I read about a "debate" that is
supposedly in progress.
The sheer irrationality of the comments is astounding, as the
examples indicate. To cite another, consider a tirade by Pierre
Vidal-Naquet, of which a typical example is this: he claims that I
quoted, from his private correspondence, an error that he had
corrected in his subsequent published article in Esprit, when
of course he knows I quoted his published article. One must have
considerable faith in the gullibility of the reading public to venture
such a blatant falsehood. To mention one last case, Le Matin
now claims that I regard "l'idée même de génocide" as "un mythe
impérialiste," whereas the editor surely knows that I described "the
massacre of the Jews" as "the most fantastic outburst of collective
insanity in human history," and the book to which he refers is devoted
to example after example of genocidal actions throughout the world.
There is no space here to review the record of lies and deceit
about my alleged views, of which this is only a tiny example. In
certain intellectual circles in France, the very basis for discussion
-- a minimal respect for facts and logic -- has been virtually
abandoned.
Returning to my involvement in the Faurisson affair, it consists of
signature to a petition, and, after that, response to lies and
slander. Period.
I will add one final comment. The French courts have now condemned
Faurisson for failure of "responsibilité" as a historian and "de
laisser prendre en charge, par autri [!], son discours dans une
intention d'apologie des crimes de guerre ou d'incitation à la haine
raciale," among other similar charges. In a display of moral
cowardice, the court then claimed that it was not restricting the
right of the historian to express himself freely, but only punishing
Faurisson for doing so. This shameful judgment accords to the state
the right to determine official truth (despite the protestation of the
court) and to punish those who show "irresponsibility." If it does not
arouse massive protest, it will be a sad day for France.
QUESTION: Do you believe that the doubt about the existence of gas
chambers is a reasonable doubt? I mean, that their existence or
non-existence is, from the viewpoint of historical research, a real
problem?
CHOMSKY: My own view is that there are no reasonable grounds to
doubt the existence of gas chambers. Of course, this is a question of
fact, not religious faith. Only a religious fanatic would deny that
questions of fact are subject to inquiry.
QUESTION: If you haven't had the opportunity to examine the
substance of the record, what is the reason?
CHOMSKY: My reasons are the same as those of the vast majority of
others who have also not done so. The claim that there were no gas
chambers seems to me highly implausible, and the denial of the
holocaust, completely so. Like virtually everyone else who has written
about this affair or who has not, I see no need to investigate
further. It has been alleged (e.g., by Vidal-Naquet) that it is
"scandalous" to defend Faurisson's right to freedom of expression
without denouncing his conclusions -- which would, of course, require
careful analysis of his documentation, etc. By these curious
standards, I have often been engaged in "scandalous" behavior. I have
frequently signed petitions -- in fact, gone to far greater lengths --
on behalf of East European dissidents whose views I either do not
know, or do know and find horrendous: supporters of current American
atrocities, for example. I never mention their views in this context,
even if I am familiar with them, a fact that no doubt scandalizes the
commissars. The demand that defense of civil rights requires an
analysis and commentary on the views expressed would simply eliminate
the defense of the rights of those who express unpopular or horrendous
views, the usual case where a serious issue arises. This is taken for
granted without comment by all civil libertarians. In discussing this
issue, I have therefore limited myself to stating that Faurisson's
views are diametrically opposed to mine, as indicated in the comments
I quoted earlier and others like them. In the case of East European
dissidents, for example, I do not even go that far, nor is it
necessary to do so.
QUESTION: Do you think that the existence or non-existence of gas
chambers is a question which has an ideological, political, or ethnic
value (even if from the viewpoint of reality their existence is not in
question according to you)?
CHOMSKY: If, contrary to my belief, it were shown that there were
no gas chambers but that the massacre of millions of Jews was the
result of horrifying conditions in slave labor camps, that would not
affect my evaluation of the Nazi genocide.
QUESTION: If you think that the existence of gas chambers has such
a value, say, as something at stake in a battle about the
interpretation of Nazism as a historical phenomenon, would you state
precisely your ideas in this respect?
CHOMSKY: This is too complex a question for me to respond
adequately here. Nazism was unique in its horror, perhaps without
historical precedent, as I have often written. But we must also
recognize that fascist-style institutions were developing in one or
another form in much of the world in that period, and indeed since.
One who views Latin America today might well assume that Hitler had
won the war, though in fact it is American liberalism that a bears a
major responsibility for the plague of terror and torture regimes that
often mimic the Nazis. I might also mention that commentators within
the mainstream of popular opinion, for example, the Nobel Laureate in
Economics, Paul Samuelson, have expressed their belief that the future
of Western state capitalism may be more similar to Brazil and
Argentina than, say, Scandinavian social democracy. This is a topic
that I cannot discuss without considerably more space, but it is a
very important one.
QUESTION: There is the Chomsky who is a scientist and linguist and
the Chomsky who engages in political struggles. What do they say to
each other when they meet?
CHOMSKY: There is no connection, apart from some very tenuous
relations at an abstract level, for example, with regard to a concept
of human freedom that animates both endeavors.
QUESTION: You seem to think that the only interesting and
courageous work for an intellectual is to denounce the abuses
perpetrated by his own government and not be concerned with the abuses
perpetrated by the governments of other countries, which are easier to
denounce. Is this correct?
CHOMSKY: Not quite. I have always held that criticism of any state
or society is legitimate, if it is honest. There are, for example,
Western scholars who devote themselves to nothing but the crimes of
the Soviet state. I do not criticize them. My own writings include
considerable discussion of the criminal nature of Marxist-Leninist
doctrine and practice.
But when we consider the moral significance of one's work and
actions, other criteria enter: a rational person will consider the
human consequences of what he does. A person who is concerned with
these consequences will concentrate finite energies where they will
contribute to alleviating human misery and extending human rights. If
a Soviet intellectual chooses to denounce American crimes, that is of
little significance. What is important is what he says about the
U.S.S.R., Czechoslovakia, Afghanistan, Eritrea, etc. The reasons are
obvious. However valid his criticism may be, its contribution to human
welfare is nil, and may even be negative, insofar as it reinforces a
repressive, destructive and murderous system. If a Soviet intellectual
chooses to concentrate solely on the crimes of his own state, I have
only praise for him. Of course, the commissars see things differently
and will denounce him for "selective outrage." A familiar
anti-Stalinist joke forty years ago was that if you criticized Soviet
slave labor camps, you were asked: "What about the lynchings in the
south?" The dishonesty is obvious.
Note that an institutional critique of this sort is, in contrast,
perfectly legitimate. Thus it is entirely fair (though obvious) to
criticize the Soviet media for concentrating on Western crimes,
ignoring their own; and it is entirely fair and extremely important
for us to analyze the behavior of the Western media insofar as they
mirror this deplorable practice, as to a significant extent they do.
An honest person will apply the same standard to himself. In fact,
I have been harshly and immediately critical of Soviet crimes, but the
importance of this is slight. What is important is to expose the
crimes of my own state, which are often hidden from view by the
propaganda institutions. The reason is that by doing so I can help
arouse public opinion which, in a democracy, can contribute to
bringing these crimes to an end. The crimes of Pol Pot could be
denounced, but no one had any suggestion as to how to stop them. The
comparable crimes in Timor at the same time could have been stopped by
an aroused public opinion, since the U.S. and its allies bore prime
responsibility for them. Correspondingly, it is no surprise to find
that there was vast outrage over Cambodia coupled with silence about
Timor. This is typical, as we document at length in our two volumes,
and elsewhere.
Perhaps one can find the equivalent of the Soviet commissar who
will accuse me of "selective outrage" for concentrating my energies
where I can actually do something to save lives and defend freedom in
a meaningful way, though to my knowledge, such blatant dishonesty is
rare in the West, apart from some ex-Stalinists or disillusioned
lovers of Third World revolutions.
QUESTION: Since American opinion began to be troubled by doubts
about the Vietnam war, you speak of an "ideological reconstruction" in
process or completed, which leads to a sort of whitewashing or
amnesia. Is it, in your opinion a matter of a deliberate and wanted
evolution by certain people, or rather a sort of secretion of
anti-bodies, half-unconsciously, of the American population?
CHOMSKY: Certainly much of the reconstruction of imperial ideology
and effacement of the record of American crimes is quite deliberate.
It must be remembered that American liberalism was responsible for
many of the worst crimes, not only in Indochina, and the articulate
intelligentsia largely supported the war in Indochina, turning against
it when business circles did and for the same "pragmatic" reasons. The
basic principle, one of long standing, is that the "responsible
intellectuals" must undertake what is called "the engineering of
consent," the shaping of popular attitudes to support the aims of
those with objective power. Again, a person who is concerned to help
suffering people will concentrate his energies on combating these
forces, which, needless to say, dominate the ideological institutions.
QUESTION: Your effort to "deflate" the Cambodian genocide has been
interpreted by certain French intellectuals as your being misguided by
the following postulate: everything that the CIA says (or arranges) is
false, therefore the Cambodian genocide, etc.,... How do you explain
this way of perceiving your action?
CHOMSKY: There was no such "effort" on my part. It is interesting
that what you report is actually believed by people in France. It
reflects, once again, the total ignorance of my writings on the part
of the people who write so learnedly about them. In fact, in my
writings on Cambodia I assume that the analyses provided by American
intelligence were probably more or less accurate, as indeed appears to
have been the case.
There has been a vast amount of lying about this matter in France.
Consider, for example, François Ponchaud. In the introduction to the
American edition of his book, he cites my praise for it as "serious
and worth reading," and in turn praises me for the "responsible
attitude and precision of thought" shown in my writing on Cambodia,
which in fact covered everything I wrote during the Pol Pot period. In
the introduction to the world edition, dated the same day,
these passages are eliminated and replaced by the claim that I had
"sharply criticized" his book, deny that there were massacres, reject
refugee testimony, and insist on relying on "deliberately chosen
official statements." These were all lies as he knew: compare the
American preface written the same day. The world edition is not
available in the U.S., where the lies would have been quickly exposed;
the U.S. edition is not available elsewhere, where the facts were
generally unknown. Still more revealing are the subsequent efforts to
disguise the facts, as, for example, when Paul Thibaud writes that
Ponchaud made an error in that only the American edition took account
"des remarques de Chomsky" -- an interesting way of referring to the
fact that the simultaneous world edition contained outright lies about
these "remarques." The editor of Nouvel Observateur displayed
comparable dishonesty. He printed a letter of mine, deleting my
reference to "draconian measures" of the Pol Pot regime so that he
could maintain his claim that I refused to criticize the regime, among
other similar distortions. There are numerous other examples.
Herman and I begin our chapter on Cambodia observing that "there is
no difficulty in documenting major atrocities and oppression,
primarily from the reports of the refugees" in a society closed to the
West, and that "the record of atrocities in Cambodia is substantial
and often gruesome." We continue in the same vein, reiterating
precisely what Ponchaud and American intelligence officials say about
refugee reports; in fact, we criticize the U.S. media for failing to
make use of these reports and failing generally to attend to the
analyses of U.S. intelligence. We cite estimates of killings ranging
from "possibly thousands" killed (Far Eastern Economic Review;
as our book went to press, the Review estimated the population
at 8.2 million, well above the 1975 figure) to the claim by Jean
Lacouture in February 1977 that the Pol Pot regime had "boasted" of
having killed 2 million people (we wrote too early to cite the claims,
which apparently derive from Hanoi propaganda, that the regime had
reduced the population from 7 to 4 million). We concluded finally that
"when the facts are in, it may turn out that the more extreme
condemnations were in fact correct," though this would obviously -- as
a matter of elementary logic -- not alter our conclusion on the
central matter of our study, namely, "how the available facts were
selected, modified, or sometimes invented to create a certain image
offered to the general population." We documented extensive
fabrication of evidence and suppression of relevant history, not only
in the case of Cambodia, but throughout Indochina. The general context
was a study of the ways in which the propaganda system suppressed the
record of American crimes throughout the world.
The reason for the remarkable campaign of lies about my writings on
Cambodia is quite clear. It began after I wrote a personal letter to
Lacouture, pointing out to him that he had grossly falsified
Ponchaud's book in a review that appeared in Novel Observateur
and the New York Review. Lacouture printed partial corrections
in the U.S., but, revealing the total contempt that he and his editor
feel for the French intelligentsia, he never issued corrections in
France, assuming that no one would ever care whether what he wrote was
true or false. It was then that the campaign of lies began. Evidently,
my belief that one should keep to the truth outraged many people who
feel that they should be free to lie at will about official enemies.
QUESTION: Doesn't the fact that human rights are not more respected
by the socialist regimes, including Cuba, immerse you in a state of
complete pessimism of the type: nothing can be expected from one side
or from the other?
CHOMSKY: Not at all, since I expected little else of these regimes.
There are many factors that impel Third World revolutions towards
totalitarianism and brutality. One of these factors, and the one that
should particularly concern us since it is the only one that we can
significantly influence, is the Western role. In the case of Cuba, for
example, there is no doubt that the terrorist campaign launched by the
Kennedy Administration after the Bay of Pigs played a role, as it was
intended to do, in enhancing repressive tendencies in the Castro
regime. The same is true in respect to Indochina. In Laos, for
example, where the U.S. virtually destroyed the agricultural system,
the U.S. not only denies food to the starving but also even refuses to
aid in removing unexploded ordnance that kills many people and makes
farming virtually impossible in the most heavily bombed areas. These
monstrous policies, which have few analogues in great power cynicism,
are subject to virtually no criticism in the U.S. The goal is to
maximize suffering in Indochina and to reinforce the most brutal and
repressive elements so that "Western humanists" can then deplore the
savagery of the post-revolutionary regimes.
Since gross distortion of these remarks is predictable, let me
reiterate the obvious: this is not the sole factor leading to
repressive and brutal practice in the regimes called "socialist," but
it is the one factor we can influence, and therefore will be the
factor that will primarily concern those whose concern is to help
suffering people rather than to improve their image or to contribute
to imperial violence.
QUESTION: Have you ever asked yourself: What would I do if I were
the U.S. Secretary of State? Or, in other words, what should be the
foreign policy of the U.S.?
CHOMSKY: I would rather consider a more realistic question: What
can I do to modify American foreign policy so that it will contribute
to human welfare rather than pursuing the goal of improving the
climate for American business operations and guaranteeing the
opportunity to exploit human and material resources. In a democratic
society, there is a great deal that one can do, though it will
naturally be denounced by those who are committed to oppressive
systems, or who interpret a principled commitment to human rights as
"selective outrage," mimicking their counterparts among the
commissars.
QUESTION: You fear that the complete cynicism of American foreign
policy will end up corrupting and destroying what remains of American
democracy. Could you be specific?
CHOMSKY: There are powerful forces in the U.S., as elsewhere, that
will labor to secure their wealth and power, whatever the human cost.
They will succeed, if they are not opposed by an informed and
committed public. This can be done. It was done during the Vietnam
war, and it is being done today. This is a continuing struggle, and
will remain so, at least until there are revolutionary changes in the
superpowers. As to the defense and extension of democracy, this too is
a continuing struggle. The anarchist thinker Rudolf Rocker once wrote
that "Political rights do not originate in parliaments; they are
rather forced upon them from without... They do not exist because they
have been legally set down on a piece of paper, but only when they
have become the ingrown habit of a people, and when any attempt to
impair them will meet with the violent resistance of the populace."
There is much truth to this.
In my view, the struggle against oppression and injustice will
never end, but will continue to take new forms and impose new demands.
This is not a reason for pessimism, but for honesty, commitment, and
forthright efforts in defense of freedom and justice. |