Where Have All the Trotskyites Gone?

Old-Timey Politics

by Dana Henry

Philadelphia's Militant Labor Forum Center, in the thick of the Northeast toward the end of the 57 bus route, bears none of the typical markings of revolutionary socialism. There's no hammer-and-sickle flag, no portraits of Lenin or Stalin, no red. The entrance to the two-room space is well-lit and, at 7 p.m. last Saturday, was staffed by a well-dressed older woman who smiled as she greeted supporters of the Socialist Workers Party (SWP), then offered them a folding chair, a glass of wine or iced tea and a slice of apple pie.

Inside, beneath a plastic banner that bore the center's name, stood the man of the hour: the 2008 SWP candidate for president, Roger Calero. He addressed his Philadelphia constituency with a slight stutter and a strong Central American accent, "Don't go to work! Don't go to school!" he said. "Join the protest and tell your co-workers why."

The audience nodded as Calero spoke of truckers on the streets of Harrisburg rallying against high oil prices; of cattle auctions being an opportunity for truckers, farmers and meat packers to discuss their mutual "squeeze by economic crisis"; and of a recent crane collapse in Miami, which claimed two "casualties" from America's working class. Capitalism, Calero said, was the sole cause of poverty, war and racism. "Capitalism equals racism," he said earnestly. "The only way it will end is when we smash it!"

Calero, a resident of the Bronx who openly discusses his legal misadventures (he once served probation for selling marijuana and later spent 10 days in jail facing possible deportation), is Nicaraguan-born and ineligible for the presidency. Yet the attendees, who seemed generally past middle age and who addressed each other by first name, cheered as he promised that, once in office, he would tear down the "wall" dividing America and Mexico; permanently fix the prices of coal, oil and electric utilities; build government-funded public-works programs that unionized wages for all factory jobs; and ignore "green-collar" jobs because they do not yet pay well.

Of course, many of Calero's ideas for facing a potential economic collapse amounted to jumping into a time machine — they smacked of the last century. Even the notion of "protest" seemed quaint, unless Calero meant something more symbolic than the Vietnam-era gatherings that have largely been replaced by blogs and Listservs. But when I asked the candidate how his proposals applied to contemporary America, where most major manufacturing industries have been replaced by service work, he insisted that industrialism was relevant, citing coal mining and meatpacking. Then he wandered off to talk to another attendee, and I found a ride back to the city with three SWP supporters.

The conversation in the car was surprisingly apolitical. "He sure was impressive," was the only mention of Calero. We talked about the Frida Kahlo exhibit at the art museum and a new Indian restaurant in Northern Liberties. When we passed a manor for the elderly on the Ben Franklin Parkway, a woman in the car mentioned that she wished to someday live there. She asked another passenger how his parents were doing and then reminded him about the next Calero appearance. "Looking forward to seeing you next time, Fred," she said as the man left the car. If the revolution wasn't coming, at least it had been a pleasant evening.

(dana.henry@citypaper.net)