Amitabh Pal

Amitabh Pal is the Managing Editor of The Progressive. He has interviewed the Dalai Lama, Mikhail Gorbachev, Jimmy Carter and John Kenneth Galbraith for the magazine. In addition to his role as the Managing Editor, Pal is the Co-Editor of the Progressive Media Project.
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By Amitabh Pal on June 13, 2013

Edward Snowden may have to count on the people of Hong Kong to save him from being extradited to the United States.

Hong Kong occupies a unique place when it comes to human rights. Under the "one country, two systems" model by which China governs it, inhabitants of the territory have far more freedom than the mainland Chinese. Their rights are meant to be guaranteed under law in an arrangement set up when the British started the process of handing over the colony to China.

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By Amitabh Pal on June 11, 2013

The IMF's supposed mea culpa for its role in the social and economic collapse in Greece rings hollow.

True to form, the IMF still insists that even if didn't fully realize the havoc its insistence on radical belt-tightening would create, on the whole its policies were not mistaken. And the organization insists on fobbing off much of the blame on European institutions for the social meltdown and the agony it caused by asserting that Greece's creditors came before everyone else.

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By Amitabh Pal on June 07, 2013

Susan Rice will bring considerable baggage to her role as National Security Adviser.

In her diplomatic career, Rice has fronted for African strongmen. When Ethiopian dictator Meles Zenawi died last August, she eulogized him as a "true friend," calling him "brilliant" and describing him as "a son of Ethiopia and a father to its rebirth."

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Wisconsin workers face a lousy jobs picture this Labor Day.

Here, for Labor Day, are the top ten working class hero movies of all time.

At a swank club in Madison, Walker supporters get an earful.

By Wendell Berry

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more 
of everything ready made. Be afraid 
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery 
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card 
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something 
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know. 
So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord. 
Love the world. Work for nothing. 
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it. 
Denounce the government and embrace 
the flag. Hope to live in that free 
republic for which it stands. 
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man 
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers. 
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.


Say that the leaves are harvested 
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus 
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion—put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come. 
Expect the end of the world. Laugh. 
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts. 
So long as women do not go cheap 
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy 
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep 
of a woman near to giving birth? 
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie easy in the shade. Rest your head 
in her lap. Swear allegiance 
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos 
can predict the motions of your mind, 
lose it. Leave it as a sign 
to mark the false trail, the way 
you didn’t go. Be like the fox 
who makes more tracks than necessary, 
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

Wendell Berry is a poet, farmer, and environmentalist in Kentucky. This poem, first published in 1973, is reprinted by permission of the author and appears in his “New Collected Poems” (Counterpoint).

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