Not Quite Communist
We often talk about freedom as if it is a destination. We treat it like a statue carved in stone or a document sealed in glass. We think that once we have it, it sits there, unmoving and permanent. But that is not the reality of liberty. Liberty is organic. It breathes. It needs sustenance. And because it is alive, it is vulnerable. Carlos Bulosan, a man who knew the bitter taste of exclusion just as well as he knew the sweetness of the American dream, understood this fragility better than most. He wrote during a time when the world was on fire, yet his observations feel surgically targeted at our current moment. He said, “Our faith has been shaken many times, and now it is put to question. Our faith is a living thing, and it can be crippled or chained. It can be killed by denying us enough food or clothing, by blasting away our personalities and keeping us in constant fear. Unless we are properly prepared the powers of darkness will have good reason to catch us unaware and trample our lives.” When you read those words today, the shiver of recognition is not limited to just one group. It is felt deeply whether you trace your roots to the Philippines or Vietnam, to China or Korea, to Mexico or Venezuela. Bulosan was writing about the Manongs and Sakadas, the migrant workers of his time, but he was describing a machinery of fear that is all too familiar to the immigrant communities of today. We look around us now and see the erosion happening in real time. We see the rise of authoritarian impulses that thrive on the very fear Bulosan described. For many of us, the “powers of darkness” are not abstract concepts. They wear uniforms. They manifest in the looming threat of ICE and CBP raids that tear families apart in the middle of the night. They appear in the demonization of asylum seekers at the border who are denied that basic sustenance of food, clothing, and safety. This fear is compounded by the drums of war and geopolitical tension. As rhetoric heats up against China or North Korea, we see how quickly our Asian American neighbors are cast as the perpetual foreigner or the enemy within. As tensions rise with Venezuela or Colombia, we see how easily our Latino communities are flattened into caricatures and targets for political points. It is a specific kind of violence that blasts away our personalities and reduces complex human beings to potential national security threats. Bulosan was asked to define what freedom meant for someone on the margins. His answer was rooted in the ability to exist without fear. Today, that means the freedom to drive or take the bus and train to work without the terror of a checkpoint. It means the freedom to speak your heritage language without being viewed with suspicion. It means the freedom to exist in this country without being blamed for the actions of a government across the ocean. So what does it mean to be “properly prepared,” as he urged us to be? It means recognizing that our histories are linked. The story of the Filipino farmworker or sugarcane laborer (like my great grandfather and grandfather) is the story of the Bracero, too. The Chinese, Japanese, and Filipino exclusion acts of the past, or Mexican Repatriation policy of the Great Depression, are the travel bans and detention centers of the present. It is a shared lineage of people who maintained their dignity when the law denied it to them. It means understanding that our faith in this country is not blind loyalty. It is a demand. It is an insistence that the promises made on paper must be kept in practice for all of us. When we see authoritarianism rising, we cannot afford to be caught unaware. We have to feed that living thing. We have to protect it. Because if Bulosan taught us anything, it is that freedom does not survive by itself. It survives because we refuse to let it die. Get full access to Not Quite Communist by Gerald Farinas at gerfarinas.substack.com/subscribe [https://gerfarinas.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_4]
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