El San Franciscan works for a union that has been organizing strikes and picket lines for their members. He was asked to attend a picket line tomorrow for a health worker’s strike. It’s come out that one of his co-workers contracted Covid, possibly at a recent picket line they were made to attend where the PPE provided was not adequate and social distancing was not enforced. And now, many other co-workers are being quarantined after being exposed to the virus. A few hours ago, I suggested to El San Franciscan that he not go to the picket line tomorrow, and he didn’t think it was an option.
But really, it should be an option. They are not being provided with safe work conditions. In addition to the lack of social distancing and PPE, the strikers tomorrow are nurses and many of them recently tested positive for Covid. So now, the union that represents El San Franciscan and his co-workers, which is a different union from the one for which they work, is urging them to strike by not attending the strike tomorrow. So… it’s a meta strike.
In no way do I want to make light of this. It is tragic that these people, some of whom have underlying health conditions and are at the risk of infecting larger families, are working in unsafe conditions. One of the reasons I am writing this is to simply share a slice of what’s happening in the Bay Area at this time of global pandemic.
But a vestige of my studies (two decades ago!), and of being momentarily obsessed with the concept of meta-communication, is a certain amusement with finding the meta. And to the many incongruous things that 2020 has brought us, we can now add meta-strikes.
I often see people complain that they’re “not allowed to criticize Islam”, that any criticism is framed as Islamophobia, or who voice frustrated and rhetorical questions like “why do liberals defend Islam?” (the feminist version of this is “why do liberal feminists defend Islam?”), and so on. I wrote an answer to someone on social media who posted that it’s “so frustrating when libfems call radfems Islamophobic for critizing the hijab”, along with the image below. Since this topic comes up so frequently I thought I’d also write an answer here.
The poster commented: “This! It is so, so frustrating when libfems call radfems ‘islamophobic’ for criticizing the hijab. They’re such imbeciles, it’s insane.”
It is not inherently Islamophobic to criticize the hijab, but when you think that the hijab is the all and everything and absolute pinnacle of women’s oppression, you seem myopic, and yes, likely prejudiced towards a specific group.
Furthermore. The accusation of Islamophobia is not used just because people “criticize the hijab”. This is not a fair characterization of those who speak about Islamophobia and it dismisses valid concerns about bigotry. I know that when I point out Islamophobia, it’s not in response to people’s mere criticism of the hijab. I have no issue with the above quote.
When some of us name Islamophobia, it’s because of things like this:
– Focusing disproportionately on examples of sexism among Muslims in comparison to elsewhere. – Blowing up the significance of the hijab such that it is assumed to be associated with the most extreme experience of female subservience and oppression. This simply isn’t true. – Taking examples of news and customs from (frankly) backwater places and presenting them as representative of all Muslims, instead of realizing that like the Christian world, the Muslim world has differences based on country, ethnicity, class, rural/urban, and more. – Downvoting* the women of Muslim origin who point these things out and tell you that their experiences are not the same as the news story you read (about the honor killing in Pakistan or whatnot), while simultaneously criticizing liberal feminists for not listening to the ex-Muslim women you want them to listen to (who are sometimes the Candace Owenses of the Muslim world).
The queer and liberal feminist whitewashing of Islam can be downright strange, but at least we can appreciate that it stems from something positive: The recognition of the bias and bigotry of much of Western discourse around Muslims, and especially the role that the focus on the oppression of Muslim women has played in right-wing demagoguery, including the drumming up for war in Iraq and Afghanistan. In an alternative timeline where Iran made nice with the US and South Korea was placed in the Axis of Evil, we’d have heard much more about molka than hijabs.
In regards to the hijab specifically, I am not sure liberal feminists are really saying that the hijab itself is inherently empowering. I can see Muslim women, and especially men, making that argument. But I think that what liberal feminists find empowering is simply choice. Any choice, all choice. That includes the choice to wear a hijab but it’s not the hijab in and of itself that they find empowering. They don’t care about the origins of the hijab anymore than they do about analyzing women’s nudity in the West. In fact, celebrating women’s choice through the example of the hijab validates their support for the increasing self-objectification of Western women in today’s porn-saturated culture. By framing feminism around choice, they’ve diverted it from analyzing where our behaviors come from and what their material impacts are.
Radical feminists are usually critical of equating liberation with the freedom to take off one’s clothes. But when it comes to Muslims, they tend to fall right into the long-standing Western view that “we’re civilized and equal because our women are in bikinis, Muslims are savages because their women are covered up”. I don’t view the hijab as a symbol of liberation, but when I see quasi-naked women in the West prancing or twerking or standing like ditzy adornments on TV shows, at parties, or in music videos next to fully clothed men, I can’t fail to see the bias in the notion that women covering their hair is the ultimate indicator of submission.
These days I’m less connected to the animal rights movement and less present on social media, so I’m not on top of trends, but for a while intersectionality was a BIG THING. It’s always been bullshit, but I thought people had moved onto different framing, different language…. like “radical veganism”. I guess I was wrong. Getting back on facebook has me coming across pro-intersectional posts from vegans, so the bs still needs pointing out.
I see the appeal of the punchy, self-righteous language, but this is empty virtue-signalling. The people who popularized “intersectionality” in the animal rights movement are in no way fighting against ALL oppression. Or even the most widespread oppressions. Who right now is organizing against the wars in the Middle East? What vegans are working with the labor movement? And don’t get me started on how the “intersectional” crowd is purging women who speak up for women from the movement.
These messages are harmful because they shame people away from their activism. Single-issue activism is completely fine as long as it doesn’t serve to oppress others. Yes, your animal rights activism should not become a vehicle or an excuse for racism. This is not the same as saying that if you spend time on animal rights activism you must also spend some time doing anti-racism activism. Basically, this is an All-Lives Matter response to animal rights or whatever other activism is being shamed (typically animal rights or women’s rights; other movements are more often left alone to do the limited good they do).
Colombia offers a sizeable number of vegan and vegetarian restaurants, especially in larger cities, as well as natural food stores and delivery services that sell vegan products. Be vigilant however: there are a few products that are fraudulently labeled vegan.
Fake fake cheese.
I bought this “vegan” cheese at Ceres Market in Medellin. The fat-free claim and ingredient list struck me as odd but I bought it anyway, vaguely thinking that the list might be false or incomplete without considering that the product might not be vegan.
I’ve been a vegan for so long that when I first tasted the cheese, the flavor didn’t tip me off. I then threw some in a pan of zucchini I was sautéing, wondering if it would melt. It melted immediately. It had barely touched the zucchini and it was already a puddle. I’ve cooked with many vegan cheeses and never saw one melt so quickly. The cheese was also extremely stringy, something I have again never seen in a vegan cheese.
I texted a local animal rights activist a picture of the package and asked if she knew the brand and whether she thought it was vegan. This was her response:
“We don’t consume it because we don’t think it’s vegan. They used to use the Follow Your Heart label, later someone contacted Follow Your Heart and was told that they had taken legal action against this company. The packaging used to say “vegan cheese” and now it doesn’t say that anymore. Anyway, there were several inconsistencies and we prefer not to consume it, especially since we’ve tried many vegan cheeses around the world and none of them are like this one, whereas it is exactly like non-vegan cheese.”
So this seedy company is using the vegan trend to scam people into paying a premium on cow’s cheese. Needless to say, this is wholly unethical. Of course, selling cheese made from cow’s milk is always unethical due to the unavoidable cruelty to the cows and calves, but this is also cruel towards humans. People who eat fake vegan cheese might be intolerant or allergic to milk, and/or are being made to support an industry they find morally abhorrent.
This incident also recast a doubt on an earlier incident, when I got a vegan tamale to go from a vegetarian restaurant in Medellin. Eating it the next day, the vegan chicken struck me as very different from any other mock meat I’ve eaten. I threw away the tamale, emailed the restaurant to ask what brand of veggie chicken they used and never got an answer. In the meantime I found a Colombian online vegan store that sold tamales that seemed to be same ones I had eaten, so I decided that my concerns had been unwarranted. I think this is the chicken they use. However, after the cheese incident, I’m less inclined to automatically trust that something is vegan just because it’s labeled as such.
For the most part, I haven’t had concerns with vegetarian and vegan restaurants, with the exception of the tamale and a couple times when my soup had a suspiciously meaty flavor. If the food looks like it’s made from scratch – and it usually is – there’s probably nothing to worry about. I don’t think anyone is adding non-vegan ingredients on purpose, but in the case of the soup I think it’s possible that some meaty bouillon made its way there unnoticed. Another criteria is whether the owners or workers are veg*n themselves. It would be obnoxious to ask this at every restaurant you go to, but if you’re already making conversation you can take the opportunity to find out. If the people running the restaurant are vegan and/or if they are making food from scratch, I would not worry. I still wouldn’t worry if that’s not the case, but I think that while mistakes are unlikely, they can happen.
One final note is that, like elsewhere, replacements of common foods are not always vegan. I recently visited a natural foods store where there were two cheese alternatives: the fraudulent ones from the brand above, and an almond-based cheese that contained casein. There was no dishonest marketing with the latter but it said “almond cheese”, so it’s a reminder to always check the ingredients. Also, not all plant-based milks in Colombia are vegan, as they may use animal-based vitamins or additives. Before buying a new brand of milk, it can be useful to contact the company or check to see if the product is featured here. I’ve noticed however that many of the coffee shops that offer almond and soymilk use Silk, which is vegan, so this isn’t often a problem.
While Colombian food is typically meat-heavy, it’s also easy to travel here as a vegan. Just avoid “Badem”* cheese and remember that if something seems off, it just might be.
* Badem means almond in Persian.
Update (Nov. 6): I’ve come across some Colombian restaurant reviews that warn that recipes labeled vegan – with vegan cheese – were not vegan. In one case, posters with lactose intolerance experienced strong symptoms after eating a lasagna with “vegan” cheese. The restaurant in question has both a vegetarian and meat-based menu, so this is the problem that I touched upon. No doubt, the owner’s intention was to create vegan dishes, but not being vegan or vegetarian himself, he did not do the research to ensure that the cheese he buys is really vegan. In these cases it’s best to stick to simpler dishes that don’t contain meat or dairy substitutes.
To celebrate Cesar Chavez Day a couple years ago, I developed a vegan tamale workshop that explores social justice along the food chain. As participants cook together, we discuss the issues faced by various demographics and anchor them in the different components of the tamales, e.g. masa=farmers and relleno=farm workers.
Partnering with the nonprofit 18 Reasons (2017)
Conversations on food justice often focus on one group, like farmworkers and low-income consumers, so this approach allows to build on the pre-existing knowledge of participants and to expand their understanding of our food system. We stress the interconnectedness of the issues facing everyone along the food chain, and by extension, the common solutions and the need for a radical approach in working towards social justice.
All hands on deck (2016)
Participants also get to cook and eat vegan tamales, which seems to be the main draw. Whether they care about animals or their health, veganizing tamales is something that people get excited about. And what we show them is that we are not creating a novel dish but rather a more traditional, pre-Columbian one. As we peel away past European influences, we see how they echo the very changes happening today through forced migration and the corporatization and Americanization of Mexican food systems.
This workshop has been a perfect Cesar Chavez Day celebration, as we wanted to include animals in our consideration of those suffering in our food system. Cesar Chavez was a Mexican-American farm worker and a labor and civil rights organizer. After his death in 1993, he became a major American icon. Cesar Chavez Day became a national holiday (San Francisco has a yearly Cesar Chavez Day parade) and a movie was even made about his life. Sadly and predictably, most accounts fail to mention that he was a vegan and a strong advocate for nonhuman animals. At a farm conference in 1996, United Farm Workers president Arturo Rodriguez said “Cesar took genuine pride in producing numerous converts to vegetarianism over the decades. You’re looking at one of them. He felt so strongly about it that sometimes I think he took as much personal satisfaction from converting people to vegetarianism as he did to trade unionism.”
Co-facilitator Chema Hernández Gil at our first workshop in 2016
It is not always clear from accounts whether Cesar Chavez was vegetarian or fully vegan. Chema Hernández Gil, who teaches the vegan tamale workshop with me, met Cesar Chavez’s niece last year; she confirmed that her uncle was vegan and told Chema that Cesar Chavez was so passionate about animal rights that when people would eat meat in his presence, he would make animal noises to unsettle them.
Learning about food justice as the tamales steam (2017)
The past two years, we partnered with non-vegans in organizing this workshop, and seeing their openness to a vegan message has been heartening. Next month we will present this workshop (slightly modified as it will be a demo) at UCLA. This time, a vegan professor invited us. I don’t know whether many of her colleagues are vegan, but the workshop has elicited wide support. I look forward to learning about the interests of students and faculty and connecting these with Seed the Commons’ perspectives on decolonization, radical food activism and animal liberation.
