******************** POSTING RULES & NOTES ******************** #1 YOU MUST clip all extraneous text when replying to a message. #2 This mail-list, like most, is publicly & permanently archived. #3 Subscribe and post under an alias if #2 is a concern. *****************************************************************
And was a long time member and organizer for the Socialist Party USA. Erik Carlos Torén On Sat, Apr 2, 2016, 8:25 AM Louis Proyect via Marxism < [email protected]> wrote: > ******************** POSTING RULES & NOTES ******************** > #1 YOU MUST clip all extraneous text when replying to a message. > #2 This mail-list, like most, is publicly & permanently archived. > #3 Subscribe and post under an alias if #2 is a concern. > ***************************************************************** > > NY Times, Apr. 2 2016 > Before Bernie Sanders, There Was Zeidler, a Religious Socialist > On Religion > By SAMUEL G. FREEDMAN > > MILWAUKEE — One night in April 1948, when Bernie Sanders was a > 6-year-old boy in Brooklyn, Frank Zeidler was elected mayor of Milwaukee > on the Socialist Party line. He would hold the office for a dozen years. > Until Mr. Sanders undertook his presidential campaign, Mr. Zeidler had > been the last prominent and successful Socialist politician in America. > > While Mr. Sanders is a secular Jew, though, Mayor Zeidler was a devoted > Christian, who remained active in the Redeemer Lutheran Church here > until his death in 2006 at age 93. As Mr. Sanders brings his quest for a > “political revolution” into the Wisconsin primary on Tuesday, Mr. > Zeidler’s legacy, both religious and ideological, lives on in a series > of public conversations held by his lifelong church. > > Perhaps it did not qualify as revolutionary, but on a balmy evening last > month, the line of attendees for a discussion on the topic “Interrupting > Racism” stretched out the back door of the Redeemer church. Hobbling on > canes, hoisting backpacks and bike helmets, clad in hoodies, kente cloth > and down vests, they represented a convergence of races, ages and > political beliefs that is unusual in one of the nation’s most segregated > metropolitan areas. > > Eventually, more than 150 people formed discussion circles of five or > six throughout the church’s rooms. For 90 minutes, they spoke, but they > mostly listened about one another’s encounters with racial hate. In one > group, a middle-aged white man admitted his lasting shame at not > confronting a boss who made a racial slur about a black employee. > > Across the scuffed parquet of the social hall, a white woman in another > circle spoke of her shopping trips to the affluent suburb of Shorewood, > where she noticed that the police routinely pulled over black drivers. > Such things, she said, left her able only to pray, and then feeling > inadequate in her prayers. > > Such discussions were surely in the Zeidler spirit. As a mayor, he > presided over a city begrudgingly accepting African-Americans who had > moved northward in the Great Migration. His home state was so > politically schizophrenic that during Mr. Zeidler’s Socialist heyday, > one of Wisconsin’s senators was the Red-baiting Joseph R. McCarthy. > > Even as socialism provided Mr. Zeidler with an ideological lens, the > church supplied the moral teachings that he considered the essential > complement. Far from resisting religion’s voice in the public square, he > welcomed it, as does the program of topical discussions that bears his > name. > > Continue reading the main story > “My father always said, ‘You do nothing alone,’” said the mayor’s > daughter Anita Zeidler, a senior lecturer in educational psychology at > the University of Wisconsin in Milwaukee. “And when I need people to > work together with and to make social change, I look to the religious. > Because these are people of good will, who will put effort into doing > what needs to be done.’” > > Her father, the son of a barber, graduated from high school just before > the stock market crash in 1929, which set off the Depression and cast > global doubt on the capitalist order. After enlisting in the Army, a > reliable way of getting a paycheck, he washed out of boot camp with > rheumatic fever, often a fatal disease in the era before antibiotics. > > During a yearlong convalescence, Mr. Zeidler methodically read books of > political philosophy in search of a belief system. “Essentially, what he > said is that he was drawn to socialism because they believed in > brotherhood and equality and getting things done through democratic > cooperation,” Dr. Zeidler recalled. “It was all about fairness.” > > Mr. Zeidler’s decision placed him within a long tradition of socialism > in Milwaukee, tracing back to the liberals and intellectuals who > immigrated here after the failed revolutions in the mid-1850s in Germany > and Austria. They and their descendants proudly and puckishly called > their American version “sewer socialism,” for its practical approach to > solving urban problems. > > He eschewed the secular vein in socialism, struggling to reconcile it > with his Lutheran faith. At one point in his young adulthood, while > teaching Sunday school to teenage boys, he was fired by Redeemer’s > pastor for having brought up Darwin and evolution. Decades later, after > the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, a congregant placed an American > flag in the sanctuary. Mr. Zeidler responded by installing the United > Nations flag next to it. > > In his post-mayoral life, Mr. Zeidler worked as a mediator, even toting > his oxygen tank with him to hear cases in his 90s. Sensing his coming > death, Mr. Zeidler confided to friends at Redeemer that he wanted to be > remembered through “a place where people could gather for civil dialogue > on the topics of the day.” > > One problem was that Mr. Zeidler was not wealthy enough to endow such a > place himself. Another was that Redeemer Lutheran had seen its > membership dwindle to about 100. The newly founded Frank Zeidler Center > for Public Discussion held only a handful of events from 2006 to 2010. > > But one of Mr. Zeidler’s lifelong friends, a professor named Mildred > Templin, bequeathed about $70,000 to the Zeidler Center. Some of the > money went toward hiring a part-time director, the Rev. Lisa > Bates-Froiland, who became Redeemer’s part-time pastor in 2011. On Ms. > Bates-Froiland’s first day in the two jobs, she held a public > conversation with 200 people, a sign of her intent to resuscitate the > Zeidler Center along with the congregation. > > Ms. Bates-Froiland has handed over the center’s leadership to Katherine > Wilson, a scholar who wrote her doctoral dissertation on survivor > testimonies about genocide. > > The center has trained 250 facilitators and holds public events monthly > on issues ranging from immigration to gun violence to interfaith relations. > > It also conducts private meetings between residents of Milwaukee’s > nonwhite neighborhoods and its mostly white police force. > > Most recently, the center has worked in partnership with the Milwaukee > Repertory Theater to convene discussion after performances of its show > “American Song,” which concerns a mass shooting and its aftermath. > > Nothing might have pleased Frank Zeidler more than the involvement of > someone like Allan Knepper. > > Mr. Knepper, 70, is a self-described “conservative right-wing gun-owner > white guy from the suburbs.” He was active for several years in the Tea > Party movement and said he expected to vote for Ted Cruz in the > Wisconsin primary. > > Even so, he had always enjoyed political conversation that crossed > partisan and ideological divides. It was just increasingly hard to find. > > So when he spotted an article in The Milwaukee Journal -Sentinel about > Redeemer’s program, he joined a discussion on Wisconsin’s > concealed-carry law. > > With Ms. Bates-Froiland coaxing along the conversation, Mr. Knepper > talked about having grown up on an Iowa farm, where hunting was part of > life. Nobody in his family, he said, had ever harmed anyone with a gun. > > Under the rules of the Zeidler Center conversations, the other people in > the circle had to listen in silence as he spoke, and pause for a > moment’s reflection before saying anything in response. > > And Mr. Knepper had to do the same thing as other people spoke of losing > children to gun violence. > > “What I have gotten out of it is the ability to listen to others,” said > Mr. Knepper, a veteran of about 10 Zeidler Center events over four > years. “I have gotten better at explaining what my background and > experience is, and thinking about whether it’s a positive or a negative > in my life. What does someone get from me? I’m a distinct outlier among > all the do-gooders, but I like that role. Because if we are going to > accomplish some of the things we say, if we’re going to talk diversity, > we better be ready for some.” > > > _________________________________________________________ > Full posting guidelines at: http://www.marxmail.org/sub.htm > Set your options at: > http://lists.csbs.utah.edu/options/marxism/ectoren%40gmail.com _________________________________________________________ Full posting guidelines at: http://www.marxmail.org/sub.htm Set your options at: http://lists.csbs.utah.edu/options/marxism/archive%40mail-archive.com
