Molly Ivins: Fire and Light
by Isaiah J. Poole, TomPaine.com
February 1, 2007
It wasn’t always fun being in charge of the editorial page of a newspaper in
State College, Pa., where splotches of light blue floated precariously in a sea
of red, but the days I got to publish Molly Ivins’ columns were always the most
joyous.
Today progressives are paying tribute to Ivins, who left us January 31 after
a long battle with cancer at the age of 62, as both a progressive firebrand and
a light of hope.
It took my getting a job outside the Beltway to be exposed to Ivins regularly.
It may be that papers like The Washington Post found her a little too plain-spoken
and sharp-elbowed for inside-the-Beltway discourse. She knew that when it comes
to the hypocrisy, double-dealing and shortchanging of the people’s interest in
governments from Washington to her beloved Texas, it takes more than a genteel
butter knife to cut through it. Most importantly, she proved the effectiveness
of straight-talking progressivism in swaying minds.
I saw that in the letters and e-mails I got from readers after we began publishing
Ivins’ work regularly. More than any other columnist, her visceral-but-humorous
style moved readers. She gave voice to people outside of the Beltway and blue-state
havens, who, especially in the wake of 9/11, needed encouragement to stand firm
in their convictions against abuses of power in Washington. In recent years, she
was unapologetically against the war in Iraq, against the PATRIOT Act, against
the unethical shenanigans of congressional Republicans and against the timidity
of Democrats who rolled over and allowed Republicans to get away with stealing
our democracy. She was not a columnist who told us which way the wind was blowing.
She was determined, with all of the breath that she could muster, to change the
direction of the wind, and to get us to join her.
Roger Hickey, the co-director of Campaign for America’s Future , is among the
many progressive leaders who knew Ivins personally and was inspired by her.
Molly Ivins loved this country and her native Texas, and she just had to report
on the many stupid and dangerous things that those in power tried to do in our
name. Plus, her reporting and colorful commentary was devastatingly funny.
Molly wrote for a lot of publications—many of them "progressive," but
her audience was always regular Americans and Texans. I remember she was amazed
when then-governor of California Pete Wilson tried to scapegoat immigrants and
cut their benefits. She noted that her fellow Texans could sometimes be accused
of discriminating against Mexican immigrants, but few of them were dumb enough
to blame Mexicans for a bad economy in Texas.
We at CAF were honored that she came to D.C. in 2002 to be master of ceremonies
of our Take Back America Awards dinner. That year we honored the national Democratic
leader Nancy Pelosi and an Enron employee who had been ripped off and laid off
in that Texas-based corporate scandal and was organizing his fellow workers. Molly
knew them both and both were delighted to be introduced by her.
John Nichols of The Nation offers one of the most telling insights about Ivins’
live in a tribute published today.
Molly Ivins always said she wanted to write a book about the lonely experience
of East Texas civil rights campaigners to be titled No One Famous Ever Came .
While the television screens and newspapers told the stories of the marches, the
legal battles and the victories of campaigns against segregation in Alabama and
Mississippi, Ivins recalled, the foes of Jim Crow laws in the region where she
came of age in the 1950s and '60s often labored in obscurity without any hope
that they would be joined on the picket lines by Nobel Peace Prize winners, folk
singers, Hollywood stars or senators.
And Ivins loved those righteous strugglers all the more for their willingness
to carry on.
The warmest-hearted populist ever to pick up a pen with the purpose of calling
the rabble to the battlements, Ivins understood that change came only when some
citizen in some off-the-map town passed a petition, called a congressman or cast
an angry vote to throw the bums out.
"The Molly Ivins that I can’t square with the news of her death was a sparkling
diamond of a woman, ready with the quick laugh, who would never let the bastards
get her down,” says Robert Scheer in Truthdig . “That went for the good old boys
in her beloved Texas, the state of the president they sent to Washington—and even
for the cancer cells that long had been attempting to end her life.”
"It is hard to imagine a better human being. Passion, intelligence, sass,
kindness, compassion, wit, talent--she was a walking gift,” says The Nation Washington
editor and TomPaine.com contributor David Corn. “The world was such a better place
with her around. It was a blessing to be her friend and colleague.”
Even as she was struggling with the ravages of cancer, Ivins was challenging
Republicans and Democrats—and the rest of us. Her last column , released by Creators
Syndicate on January 11, was a vigorous call to arms against the Iraq war. It
was typical Molly:
The purpose of this old-fashioned newspaper crusade to stop the war is not to
make George W. Bush look like the dumbest president ever. People have done dumber
things. What were they thinking when they bought into the Bay of Pigs fiasco?
How dumb was the Egypt-Suez war? How massively stupid was the entire war in Vietnam?
Even at that, the challenge with this misbegotten adventure is that we simply
cannot let it continue.
She goes on to write, “We are the people who run this country. We are the deciders.
And every single day, every single one of us needs to step outside and take some
action to help stop this war. Raise hell. Think of something to make the ridiculous
look ridiculous.”
That last sentence in particular hits home with me particularly hard. We live
in a truly Orwellian world, where the preposterous and abominable are being sold
to us as being for our patriotic good. There is no higher calling in journalism,
or in life, than telling it like it is, plainly and without fear, on behalf of
the people. That was Molly Ivins’ gift to us, and the spirit that we must keep
alive.
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