It feels like déjà vu all over again. I remember lamenting the passage of another Proposition 2 in 2004: a discriminatory ballot measure that amended the Michigan state constitution to narrowly define marriage. It passed by just under 60 percent, garnering a margin of victory much greater than that predicted by the polls. While the latest Prop 2 of course targeted affirmative action policies, it also passed by a wide margin.

I wasn’t at the center of either campaign, but was active in both through my union, the University of Michigan Graduate Employees’ Organization (GEO), AFT Local 3550. In both campaigns I made calls, knocked on doors, and passed out many a flyer. Hundreds of activists devoted time and energy to the cause, but ultimately our actions were in vain, as we once again came up short in our efforts. Aside from saving our “No on 2” signs and buttons for 2008, what can we learn from these two setbacks for social justice in Michigan?

First, let me say that my comments are not intended to diminish in any way the countless hours put in by so many people around the state, but to spark some discussion about how we can be more successful in the future. I also don’t want to overstate the similarities between these two Prop 2 campaigns, which took place in different contexts and with some, but not all, of the same players involved. Yet both efforts required fighting defensive battles against reactionary ballot initiatives aimed at stripping “minority rights” in constitutional amendments. It seems to me that the 2004 electoral defeat took the wind out of the sails of organizing on the ground, a fate we can still hopefully avoid this time around.

In the aftermath of each loss, I heard many conversations among activists expressing disbelief that so many Michiganders would vote in favor of discrimination. Particularly in 2006, a lot of folks thought we were going to win at the ballot box and ended up disheartened and depressed. In an effort to avoid the kind of demobilization that took place after the 2004 election, I would like to suggest two ways in which we can reframe the way we see these campaigns. First, in their specific context, I think each could be seen as successful; second, both should be seen as key moments in a broader struggle rather than self-contained campaigns.

Defensive legislative battles like these are extremely difficult to fight. For one, the debate is already framed, making it difficult to change its terms. Additionally statewide campaigns demand large amounts of resources and infrastructure to reach people. Both pro-2 campaigns had clear goals: in 2004, making gay marriage unconstitutional, and this year, increasing the chances of white suburban kids to get into U of M-Ann Arbor. Once we got thrown onto that playing field with an election looming, the lawyers, pollsters, and politicos had some pretty good arguments that their “pragmatic” campaigns were the only realistic shot at defeating these propositions. As a result, even though many activists wanted to challenge these homophobic, racist and sexist propositions head on, both anti-2 campaigns ended up focusing on “unintended consequences” and nibbled around the edges of the issues. In both campaigns this manifested as an effort to make straight middle-class white women uncomfortable enough with the possible consequences to vote against Prop 2. In our message we focused on how gay marriage was already illegal, how business recruitment efforts might be hurt, how women might not have soccer teams, men might lose prostate screening, and how serious it was to enshrine discrimination in the constitution. At the same time, we were discouraged from making straightforward social justice arguments.

Many activists saw this coming a mile away, were upset about it, and have since concluded that our losses prove that we shouldn’t “run to the middle.” Many assert that the outcome might have been different with more straightforward campaigns. I don’t think this is true, and I argue that this is not a particularly useful way of reflecting on these campaigns. In fact, I think that getting more than 40 percent of Michiganders to vote in defense of affirmative action and in support of gay marriage is actually quite a success, particularly for coalitions that were nonexistent months before.

In both campaigns, our side saw a nearly ten point drop in support on Election Day. This was, of course, very disappointing. But in retrospect, we shouldn’t overlook the breadth of base support for justice issues. That 10% who told pollsters they’d vote against the measures but seemingly switched their vote in the booth are the voters we had hoped to persuade with the “unintended consequences” arguments. In the end, these voters rejected our moderate appeals and voted out of self-interest, largely along racial lines.

Blaming the pragmatic strategy for the loss might be tempting, but the fact that those swing voters still rejected our moderate message ultimately suggests that this campaign to stop Proposition 2 was unwinnable in our current culture. It seems highly unlikely that a media blitz centered around “racial justice” was going to turn those swing voters into solid “no” votes, and so the campaign staff did exactly what they’re trained to do: figure out the best shot of getting a simple majority, lay out a plan, and stick to it.

Both campaigns were extreme long shots in terms of electoral victory, which perhaps should have changed how we organized around them. I don’t think that better framing or slicker ads could have swayed the 10% we needed to defeat both propositions. Instead, they have to be organized through real conversations in the context of grassroots action on the ground (and not just in the lead-up to an election). Our current affirmative action policies are basically the fossilized remains of formerly strong movements and, notwithstanding a day of action or two, the past ten years’ defense of affirmative action has occurred almost exclusively in courtrooms (even BAMN, the self-proclaimed radical wing of the effort, has, if anything, relied more on legal strategies than other groups).

So while affirmative action at U of M was born out of direct action organizing (including a sustained student strike) by the Black Action Movement (BAM), our generation has defended it largely by staging support rallies for lawyers. This has handed over rhetorical control of our campaigns to these lawyers, who downplay any logic of reparations or justice in favor of an interest in diversity to stay within the boundaries of narrow opinions by the Supreme Court. In the early 1970s, when these affirmative action policies were put in place, they were justified through a majority view that public institutions should try to remedy past discrimination and generally make society more equal; one reason we have seen the majority change positions is that the movement retreated into the courtrooms in the face of conservative attacks.

While we should continue fighting these defensive battles, we can’t get caught making that the only front in our effort. Even if we had won the 2006 Prop 2 battle, there would still have been a long uphill battle ahead. In the face of the rollback of other anti-poverty and anti-racist policies, increasingly lonely affirmative action admission policies haven’t been particularly successful in crafting more equitable outcomes. Even before the elections, U of M was fourth from the bottom (of the 50 US flagship universities) in terms of enrolling and graduating low-income students. Currently it ranks tenth in access for students of color (see the Education Trust 2006 report Engines of Inequality). Losing on these two ballot initiatives is symptomatic of the weakness of our social justice infrastructure, not just the will of a reactionary public.

My hope is that we can take the momentum from anti-Prop 2 organizing and develop a proactive social justice agenda and organizational base for Michigan. Fighting legal battles seems less important to me than choosing campaigns to rebuild the public belief in the necessity of government intervention to create a better society. Picking our strategic battles should be determined with broader goals in mind. I don’t see much long term good coming out of U of M’s going to court to defend their current admissions policies, which seems to me exactly what Ward Connerly has been hoping. My experience in organizing against this Prop 2 was that virtually every white person in this state can tell you about a niece, or neighbor kid, or local valedictorian who didn’t get into UM-Ann Arbor (me too! – my little brother was a salutatorian who didn’t get in).

That feeling of scarcity is based in reality, but the (usually unspoken) assumption that these kids don’t get in because their slots went to unqualified black kids from Detroit is pure myth (I would argue that it’s mostly rich kids from New Jersey and New York who are filling them).

Going to court to keep the same system in place runs the risk of embittering a lot of people. If there’s going to be a high profile case where we go down swinging, I’d much rather fight for protecting women’s shelters or protecting local hiring requirements. Perhaps more importantly, battling over admissions at selective universities recreates individualistic, scarcity-based views of success and pushes people to see their self-interest as in conflict with the “public good.”

A more ambitious and progressive approach would be to address the issue of scarcity directly by ensuring that every student in the state has access to affordable, high quality higher education, generalizing the privileges now reserved for a few. That might necessitate U of M giving up its demands for higher funding than other state universities, but could also include moving toward a philosophy that U of M and MSU should reflect the population of the entire state (the still-unfulfilled core demand of the 1970 BAM strike). While admissions systems based on geography and income are not perfect proxies for race, in a state as segregated as Michigan, they could come pretty close, and probably do better than the half-hearted current affirmative action policies.

Yet more than supporting these smart policies, what we need most is real grassroots organizing to build an infrastructure in Michigan communities for progressive change, something that could grow out of the networks formed to fight Prop 2. This movement-building approach was shared by many of the people who got involved in raising the state minimum wage last year. Along those lines, we can probably all imagine campaigns that would push the envelope, make a real difference in people’s lives, and have the potential to win broad majority support.

Examples include free higher education (as mentioned above), or universal health care and pensions (including a bailout of companies like the Big 3 automakers, if they would agree to provisions protecting their workers). Ideally, local coalitions will take up these sorts of campaigns and continue building a constituency for real change. Besides, when you think about these issues in the larger scheme of things, going on the offensive is way more fun.

David Dobbie is from Kalamazoo and is currently a graduate student and organizer based in Ann Arbor, currently most interested in better understanding how people organize across differences in social justice movements.