Tribalism
or Solidarity?
The Challenge of the 21st Century
The Rev. Bryan N. Massingale*
Associate Professor of Moral Theology
St. Francis Seminary, Milwaukee, WI
Father Massingale
delivered the 7th annual Vincentian Chair of Social Justice
Lecture on January 25, 2001 at St. John's University. His lecture draws
on the theme for St. John's Founder's Week "Human Work: Genesis
to Genome," celebrating the 20th anniversary of Pope
John Paul II's encyclical on labor, "Laborem Exercens." Father
Massingale situates work in the context of the major shifts taking place
in the ethnic and racial composition of the American population.Ê He
asks us to reflect on the existence of social estrangement and the impact
of social tribalism. He proposes the virtue of solidarity as a means
of healing social estrangement. He challenges a Vincentian University
to contribute to solidarity in two ways: First, by teaching the truth
as "discerned from the perspective of the outcast, stigmatized,
and excluded" and secondly, by being a place where "alternative
futures can be imagined and dreamed."
Introduction
Let me begin by thanking the administration of Saint
John's University for their gracious invitation to deliver this annual
Vincentian Chair of Social Justice Lecture. I am honored to be among the
ranks of the distinguished predecessors of this Chair, and most especially
in the company of Fr. Bryan Hehir, Mary Ann Glendon, and Bishop Howard
Hubbard. Even more than the privilege of being numbered in the company
of such dedicated and gifted people, this evening gives me the opportunity
to share with you some of my converging passions: a conviction about the
relevance of religious faith in our contemporary society; the central
importance of faith-based critical intellectual inquiry and formation;
action for social justice and transformation as a "constitutive
dimension" of the Christian faith;[1]
and racial justice as the litmus test for the adequacy and credibility
of Catholic social reflection in the United States. I commend St. John's
University, and its Vincentian sponsors, for providing this forum where
such passions can be shared with a wider audience, and especially with
those who are the present and future leaders in our Church and Society.Ê
I hope this evening to do justice to the intent of this chair, expressed
so ably by the Very Rev. Robert Maloney, CM: "to transform our society
into a more just one...[through] an appeal to conscience, creativity and
competence."[2]
The theme chosen for this year's Founder's Week observance,
Human Work: Genesis to Genome, is especially appropriate for
this year as we celebrate the twentieth anniversary of Pope John Paul
II's encyclical on labor, Laborem Exercens.[3]
This document has the distinction of being the only one in the long
heritage of Catholic Social Teaching devoted entirely to the topic of
human work. In it, the Pope declares that human work is "the essential
key to the whole social question,"[4] that is, the pivotal
arena engaging the struggle for justice. Laborem Exercens both
reaffirms and further develops central insights in Catholic social reflection;
e.g., the dignity of work flowing from the transcendent dignity of the
human person who works; the insistence upon a just wage; the right to
form unions, and the priority of labor over capital. Novel to this document,
however is John Paul's distinction between the direct employer, the
person or institution with which the worker has a labor contract, and
the indirect employer, that is, the whole network of social, political,
and cultural factors within which the workplace is situated and which
influence the work contract and labor policy.[5]
This means that one cannot pay adequate attention to, much less insure
justice for, the situation of laborers without attending to the broader
social context within which work occurs.
This leads to the rationale for my contribution to this
discussion: "Tribalism or Solidarity?" I want to situate the
theme of work in the context of the seismic shift taking place in the
composition of the American population. In the compass of a brief lecture,
I will describe the trends present and to come; speak of the existence
of social estrangement and impact of social tribalism; propose the virtue
of solidarity as a means of healing social estrangement; and conclude
with the challenges that the choice between tribalism or solidarity
presents to Christian institutions, especially inÊ the Vincentian tradition.
The Demographic Shift
We stand at the threshold of a new century. While the
opportunities and challenges of this era are still to be uncovered,
without doubt one of them will be a significant and unprecedented demographic
shift in the population of the United States. Ten or fifteen short years
from now, at least one out of every three Americans will belong to the
group we now term "people of color." Twenty to twenty-five
years after that--well within the lifetimes of those whom this university
educates--for the first time in the living memory of U.S. history, the
group designated as "non-Latino whites" will be a "minority"
group. America will cease being "a microcosm of Europe" and
will become "a microcosm of the world."
Living in New York City, this audience is already familiar
with this shift. For New York City, along with Los Angeles, Chicago,
and Houston, is among those cities where whites are already a numerical
minority.[6] Thus, the effects
of this seismic transformation in American demographics are already
being felt. From events as insignificant as Betty Crocker's recent makeover--being
morphed to look like a "typical American": one part Connie
Chung and three parts Mariah Carey[7] to the more startling realization
that the United States is now the fifth largest Spanish-speaking nation
in the world; from the theme of the recent Encuentro--"Many Faces
in God's House," to the recent observation of my own Ordinary,
Archbishop Rembert Weakland--namely that the church "suddenly has
become multiracial and multicultural, but it doesn't know it;"
from the reality that currently people of color, women, and immigrants
comprise 53% of the workforce, to the projection that by 2005, 85% of
those entering the workforce will be women, people of color, and immigrants;
we are becoming ever more aware that our social and ecclesial life is
more diverse, complex and varied. Indeed, we even struggle with how
to name the challenge that faces us. Are we "multicultural"
or "intercultural"? Is our task "cultural adaptation"
or "interculturation"? Like it or not, because of the demographic
shift in progress, these concerns are here to stay. The landscape is
being, and already has been, decisively altered. Our society, our Church,
and our workplaces are multiracial and multiethnic in ways many might
never have imagined, dreamed, hoped or desired.
Social Estrangement or Tribalism
Undoubtedly, this is an exciting and rich time. It is
also a time of potentially explosive division and fragmentation, for we
have little experience or precedent to draw upon in negotiating this demographic
shift. The "melting pot" metaphor, which described the previous
American approach to diversity (that is, becoming as indistinguishable
as possible from the white, Anglo-Saxon Protestant majority) fails us,
as we confront the fact that many cannot--and have little desire to--be
so assimilated. We have little concrete experience or models for how to
be a "salad," or "stew," or "gumbo," or
"quilt," or any of the other metaphors we haltingly apply to
our new situation. Rather, we are all too often communities that live
in the same space but are separated by chasms of understanding and life
experience. Allow me to give a broad sketch of the factors which constitute
the present divisions and tensions in society.
Isolation
Despite the fact that racial and ethnic groups live in
the same cities or geographic areas, they often lead parallel, non-intersecting
lives. In the words of a noted author:
We may have a friend or two of another race or culture, but, for the vast majority
of us, that is as far as it goes.... Don't we attend school together,
work together, play together? In fact, we do not actually do these things
together; we do them in the same place and in each other's presence, but
we still do them separately. In desegregated schools, workplaces, and
recreation areas, a strict but informal segregation still exists.... And,
as soon as school, work, or play is completed, whites and people of color
still go home to their segregated communities knowing, for the most part,
little or nothing about each other's lives.[8]
Because of the racial and economic segregation that still
marks the American housing market, it is uncommon--indeed, highly unlikely--to
find stable integrated neighborhoods whose residents know one another
on terms of ease, familiarity, and shared exchange.[9] The paradox is that
while we are more diverse than ever before, many of us have less first
hand experience of those from whom we differ.
The "Glass Ceiling" Phenomenon
Despite measurable progress during the last twenty years,
people of color still must negotiate subtle obstacles and overcome covert
barriers in their pursuit of employment and/or advancement. According
to the Federal Glass Ceiling Commission, even after three decades of
affirmative action, a severe racial disparity continues to exist at
the top ranks of corporate leadership. For example, white males, numbering
only 29% of the nation's workforce--still hold 95% of corporate senior
management positions.[10] This Commission
further notes that the "fears and prejudices" of white middle
managers are most responsible for this continued racial disparity.[11]
Fatigue
Clarence Page, Pulitzer Prize winning journalist for
the Chicago Tribune, coined the phrase, "integration fatigue,"
to describe how the effort to get along without tension, misunderstanding,
and acrimony in a multiracial and multicultural workplace was so taxing
in a Washington office that at the end of the workday, each "group"
retired to separate bars located on diagonally opposite street corners.[12]
This "fatigue" is also evidenced in the "meeting after
the meeting" phenomenon, where the different parties gather separately
to both debrief and congratulate themselves that things didn't escalate
out of control. Page attributes this "fatigue" to the "deep-seated
ambivalence" that Americans continue to have over racial and cultural
mixing. Whatever its cause, the result is a tenuous fragile state of tolerance
and co-existence, or stated less eloquently, "putting up with each
other."[13]
The Chasm in Wage Disparity
Nowhere perhaps is the social fragmentation and division
more evident than in the "gulf" separating the wages earned
by the highest and lowest tiers in the American workplace. A recent
study noted that in 1960, the average CEO of a Fortune 500 company earned
a little over $193,000 in total compensation; the minimum wage at that
time was $1/hour. In 1997, average CEO compensation had increased to
$7.8 million; the minimum wage was only $5.15/hour, or about $10,712
a year. Noteworthy, is not only the glaring disparity, but the extent
of the disparity--which is only grasped when one notes that the minimum
wage would need to be $40.97/hour just to keep pace with the rise in
CEO compensation and preserve the 1960 rate of disparity.[14]
Not only is there a "gulf" between the rich and the working
poor; the chasm or social divide is becoming deeper and wider.
Time constraints prohibit a fuller development of this
theme, yet I hope my remarks are indicative of the profound challenge
we face. This challenge is not simply negotiating the major demographic
shift now taking place. The challenge of racial and ethnic pluralism
is not simply the fact of difference, but also, the human interpretation
of difference. Because of this history of interpretation, the differing
racial and ethnic groups exist in relationships of unequal status, privilege,
and power. Demographic pluralism thus becomes "tribalism,"
that is, a defense of self and group interests--what is "ours"--against
those "others" who are seen as a threat to one's entitlements.[15]
A noted social commentator expresses this fear:
My biggest fear, as this nation moves into an inevitable browning, or hybridization,
is that there will be a very powerful minority, overwhelmingly composed
of Euro-Americans, who will see themselves in significant danger as
a consequence of the way democracy works; winner-take-all. And they
will begin to renege on some of the basic principles that created the
United States and made it what it is.[16]
As my examples demonstrate,
patterns of work and conditions in the workplace both reflect and exacerbate
the social divisions and estrangements present in society. Confronting
the reality of social tribalism then is absolutely essential to any
adequate understanding of work and any adequate praxis of justice.
The Virtue of Solidarity
One response to the challenge of multicultural diversity,
one common in the corporate workplace, is to "manage" it.
In the business world, diversity is "managed" by training
employees in sensitivity and respect for those who are "different."
The goal is toleration, so that racial and ethnic differences do not
compromise an organization's productivity, public image, or legal liability.
Cultural diversity is rarely seen as a good; it is accepted reluctantly
as a fact of life, as something to be endured and made the best of.
Christian faith takes a different approach. Christians
must do more than simply tolerate cultural differences. Because we are
"catholic--" that is, "universal" and inclusive--the
variety of peoples, languages, cultures and colors among us must not
only be tolerated, but also cherished, cultivated and celebrated. For
the diversity of languages, cultures and colors in the human family
is a holy gift of God.
This faith conviction, rooted in the mystery of Pentecost
and the Trinity, is conveyed in Catholic social thought by the virtue
of solidarity. Solidarity emerged in Catholic theology in response to
two paradoxical "signs of the time": the growing awareness
of the interdependence of human societies on one hand, and on the other,
the sad reality of human divisions, alienation, and injustice. Solidarity
is that virtue which commits us to the common good, and to the overcoming
of patterns of social exclusion and division. In the words of Pope John
Paul II, solidarity is not "a feeling of vague compassion or shallow
distress" at another's social plight. Rather, it is "a
firm and persevering determination to commit oneself to the common
good...to the good of all...because we are all really responsible
for all."[17]
Solidarity is based upon the conviction, the deep-seated belief, that
the concerns of the despised other are intimately bound up with my/our
own; that we are, in the words of Martin Luther King, Jr., "bound
together in a garment of mutual destiny." Solidarity, according
to John Paul, is exercised in a society when "its members recognize
one another as persons." Since the poor, racial outcasts, and culturally
marginalized are those whose personhood is most often attacked, questioned,
or reviled, the acid test of solidarity is our sense of connection with
and commitment to the poor and excluded.
Thus solidarity is that virtue that responds to both
the reality of our human interdependence and our sad legacy of social
estrangement. The acid test of solidarity, of a life committed to the
common good, is our welcome and embrace of the "stranger,"
the poor, the outcast, and excluded. The task of solidarity is the struggle
against and overturning of the patterns of exclusion present in social
life, whether based on gender, race, class, or ethnicity.
This means that a core dimension of solidarity is social
reconciliation; welcoming the Ôstranger" in our communities and reconciling
estranged social groups. Solidarity entails a constant effort to build
a human community where each group participates equitably in social life
and contributes its genius to the good of all. In view of the seismic
demographic transformations occurring in the United States, cultivating
and promoting the cause of solidarity is a major challenge facing religious
believers and institutions.
Solidarity and the Vincentian Charism
The challenge of cultivating solidarity in the face of
social tribalism is a task which would seem to have particular resonance
with a Vincentian ethos. For example, Frederic Ozanam, the founder of
the Society of St. Vincent de Paul, looked at the society of his day
and saw it on the verge of collapse, radically divided between the comfortable
and the miserable. His vision was that "The Conference of Charity"
was to be a force of social reconciliation and renewal, healing the
splits and wounds of society. His hope was that through the "force
of love," justice and social renewal would prevail.[18]
I conclude, then, by proposing two ways in which an
institution devoted to the Vincentian charism can make a contribution
to the cause of solidarity. The first is by being true to your mission
of seeking and teaching the truth, especially as this truth is discerned
from the perspective of the outcast, stigmatized, and excluded. My claim
here is not that these groups alone possess the truth, or that all truth
claims must yield to their readings and understandings. Yet it remains
true that the poor and outcast cannot participate in the life of society
if their voices are not attended to and their stories are not heard,
studied, or thought. Nor can a university be faithful to its mission
to promote knowledge and truth if it is complicitous in excluding or
overlooking perspectives, which are unpopular and discomforting. One
of the best contributions a Catholic, Vincentian university can make
to the promotion of social solidarity is the discovery, dissemination,
and promotion of truths that come from the "underside of society,"
examining--even changing--its curriculum to achieve this end.
A second way a Vincentian institution, faithful to its
charism, can promote social solidarity is by being a place where alternative
futures can be imagined and dreamed. So often, the enemy of social justice
is a failure of imagination, the sense of futility struggling against
realities, which seem impervious and unchangeable. In our times, I believe
that the Catholic university needs to be a place of learning, not only
in the narrowly academic sense, but also in the cultivation of dreams
and nourishing a vision of hope. Hope not in a na•ve escapism; but hope
founded on the empirical fact that what is now need not be always and
the future need not be a mere repetition of the past; a hope also grounded
in its faith heritage, which celebrated the life present, even where
death once reigned.
I conclude on a note of hope and dreaming. As I do
so, in the words of the African American poet, Langston Hughes, I thank
St. John's University for providing this opportunity for us to look
deeply, examine critically, confront hopefully, and dream prophetically
about our world in the light of faith.
To Make Our World Anew
To sit and dream,
to sit and read,
To sit and learn
about the world
Outside our world
of here and now--
Our problem world--
To dream of vast
horizons of the soul
Through dreams
make whole,
Unfettered free--help
me!
All you who are
dreamers, too
Help me make our
world anew
I reach out my
hands to you.
Endnotes