Alisa Soloman

What do you consider the most pressing social issue right now?

Oy! So many to choose from. For me, I guess it all boils down to: Bush’s (really the Heritage Foundation’s) idea of the ownership society on the one hand, and the political power of the evangelical Christian right on the other. That these two forms of American conservatism are jointly ascendant at a time of needless war makes me fear that America is developing a unique, local form of fascism. This is not a word I throw around easily. But I am coming to believe that the moralistic and fundamentally mean-spirited ideologies of both strains of conservatism are making us a more intolerant, punitive, willfully ignorant, heedlessly imperial nation. Of course, in the long run none of this will matter if we don’t do something fast to reverse the ravages of global warming.

If you could do a piece for the current White House, what would it be?

I’m not sure there’s a way to make meaningful metaphor in that ham-fisted place. It’s such a hermetic world unto itself—not caring what scientists, experts, or the public has to say about anything—so my inclination to ask Christo to wrap the building would be redundant. They’ve already swathed themselves in airtight material.

What gives you hope these days?

Stirring art, of course, which crystallizes emotions, invites connections, provokes new ways of thinking. And also people organizing and resisting. I attended the World Social Forum—the people’s alternative to the World Economic Forum—in Porto Alegre, Brazil in January. It was a productively mind-blowing experience that, among other things, featured much art and culture and sophisticated discussions about them (which I covered for The Nation.) It was thrilling to be among some 155,000 people from all over the world, all working in various ways for economic and social justice; and it was salutary to realize how much we in the United States need to learn from this work. I was struck by how absent we are from a high-level international conversation about the arts and the world.

I am also heartened by the growing movement against the war in Iraq. Though US media haven’t paid much attention, a grassroots, international citizen’s tribunal on the war has been galvanizing people worldwide. Here in the US, the tide does seem to be turning. The Iraq Veterans Against the War do compelling work and families all over the country are joining efforts to rein in aggressive military recruiters at the nation’s high schools. The Bush administration is finally having to answer some questions, though not enough of them yet. It’s time for a push. That’s why I’m planning to attend the September 24 march against the war in Washington, DC and hoping for an enormous turn-out.

What is the most important duty of a citizen?

A couple of years ago, I was at a conference at the City University of New York, where some participants started debating a perceived division between academics and activists. Then one man, from Ireland, said something illuminating that has stayed with me ever since: “What people call activism in the United States is what people elsewhere call citizenship.” It seems that in the US, we have generally handed over to “specialists” the need to engage in debate over the policies that affect all of our lives. I think the first important duty of a citizen (and also of non-citizen residents of the US, as long as getting involved doesn’t put them at risk of deportation in these xenophobic times) is to answer the call of civic duty: stay informed (the doleful entertainments passing for news on TV don’t suffice); stay involved (on any level). Now, especially, as our fears are exploited and our freedoms restricted, as the culture is increasingly militarized around a war without end, our only hope is loud and persistent public resistance.

And of an artist?

Not to forget that s/he is a citizen and to engage as such. Not to confuse that duty with her/his duties as an artist: with honesty and integrity, to explore, to question, and to pursue her/his passions.

What advice do you have for your students, for young people seeking justice?

I think it’s easy to feel daunted in the face of so much injustice, so I would quote ancient Rabbi Tarfon, who said: "You are not required to complete the task, yet you are not free to withdraw from it."

What question would you like to pose to artists on this site?

What would you like to say to arts journalists and serious critics? How do you think discussion about the arts could be made deeper and more productive and more engaged with ideas and the world?

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