Oh, how I miss Howard Zinn! It’s been one year now since he passed away, and the pain of his absence does not fade. I miss the historical sweep of his vision, and his reinterpretation of U.S. history as a history of class struggle. I miss his long view that social change happens from below, and at surprising times, and his advice that we shouldn’t get too down.
I miss his suspicion of patriotism and nationalism and his utter rejection of American exceptionalism. I miss his universalism, and his dedication to the idea that all people are created equal. I miss his insistence that there is no such thing as a good war, and that soldiers do not die for their country but for the powerful interests that run their country. I miss his appreciation of art, and music, and theater, and film, and poetry, and his understanding that a good work of culture can move us more than 1,000 editorials — or spiels like this one. I miss his ebullient spirit, his unyielding strength, and his leavening wit. I miss his writing, I miss his speaking, I miss his friendship, I miss his e-mails. But carry on we must. For Howard Zinn. For us.