While the struggle to stop the Ward Valley radioactive waste dump near Needles, California, has had some success, the overall campaign must be called a failure, the predictable result of problems that are widespread in the movement. Those of us who believe in direct democracy, consensus process and nonviolent direct action, including myself, often fail to advocate effectively for our ideals when we are in coalition settings, especially multicultural ones. We are self-silencing; we fail to take active steps to inform coalition members and constituencies about our skills, and we are unwilling to challenge power holders. One incident in particular brought our failures home to me. During the frantic days in February, just before the confrontation with the government over further site testing, members of tribes whose lands lie farther south down the Colorado River were arriving. Someone looked at the diverse, bustling crowd and asked, "Why are all these white people here?"

In October '95, the campaign focus shifted from the courts and legislature to local organizing, expansion of the coalition and preparations for nonviolent resistance. The first large-scale regional gathering was held in Ward Valley, and a protest camp was set up on site. The Fort Mojave Indian Tribe then opened the Save Ward Valley office in Needles, and the campaign began to attract national media attention.

At the same time, an unequal contest began between those who sought to broaden the campaign's scope and those who sought to keep it narrow. The former included the author and his partner, Tori Woodard. Among the latter, the most influential figure was Bradley Angel, a Greenpeace toxics campaigner. Those activists wanting to broaden the coalition's focus believe fundamental social transformation is needed if the present ecological crisis is to be surmounted. They wanted to educate constituencies about nonviolent direct action, consensus process and direct democracy; to connect the campaign to the larger issue of nuclearism on a national and planetary scale; to form alliances with other groups fighting similar radioactive waste dump proposals in Boyd County, Nebraska, and Sierra Blanca, Texas; and to unify with anti-nuclear coalitions like Alliance for Nuclear Accountability and Abolition 2000. From 1997 on, those who wanted a narrow focus succeeded in limiting the campaign to the issue of stopping the nuclear dump from being built in Ward Valley. The public voice of the campaign became a Native American voice, emphasizing Native American rights and the issue of sacred land while basically ignoring larger anti-nuclear concerns.

However, the Ward Valley dump is of national and international importance. It is a key piece in the nuclear industry's struggle to stay alive, which is why so many activists from outside the local area wanted it on the national political agenda. Once constructed, it could become a national dump and contaminate the lower Colorado River, affecting the drinking water supply for 20-million people in Arizona, Southern California and Mexico.

Any strategy that only emphasizes the concerns of a single local group tends to preclude alliances with groups outside the immediately effected area. One that emphasizes local victories tends to push aside longer-range concerns. Similarly, a strategy that gives the lead to one part of a coalition disempowers the rest of it.

In '95, the Ward Valley coalition was loose-knit, dominated by a small "in" group of individuals, with a half-hearted ramshackle excuse for a consensus process. But it was still a coalition of sorts. By '98, it had become a solidarity group. Decision making was handed over to the lower Colorado River tribes and to men like Steve Lopez and David Harper who acted on the tribes' behalf. This led to capricious, contradictory, unexplained decisions and heavy-handed, coercive behavior by Native Americans toward non-native activists. Believing that people should have the right to participate in decisions that affect them, especially during nonviolent direct actions, this author formally resigned from the coalition.

Self-scrutiny is the most proactive way to analyze the mistakes made in left-wing coalitions. White, social-change activists in multicultural campaigns are often subject to an especially crippling reflex: self-silencing. They feel obligated to constantly woo non-white groups in the coalition, staying on their best behavior and always aiming to please. They play the part of the traditional wife whose duty it is to provide support and sympathy and take care of the housekeeping. This double role is seldom discussed or questioned. Instead, people grumble about its consequencesïparticularly about having to accept behavior they would not tolerate if it occurred within their own groups.

This relationship between coalition members is a transparent inversion of mainstream American society where people of color are expected to court the good will of whites and accept their foibles with a smile. In either form, such a relationship is false and regressive. Its dishonesty blocks communication. Once caught in it, people keep their true thoughts to themselves or confide in trusted friends. Behavior that harms the campaign goes unchecked. Individuals do not hear how negatively they are affecting the coalition, and the abilities of many activists are under-utilized or not used at all. Resentment and frustration on the one side and runaway egos on the other are the natural result.

In the Ward Valley campaign, social-change activists assumed tribal members would learn of their political and social vision simply through working together. Relationships did form, but the crucial larger meeting of minds did not occur. Only a few tribal members were directly involved in the ongoing work. Non-native activists had little or no contact with most people in the tribes. Even if they had tried hard to explain themselves to tribal activists, their words would not have had a wide hearing, or would have spread beyond activist circles in a heavily filtered and mediated form.

Activists in the core group of the Ward Valley coalition did not form a caucus with other activists in the campaign to press for their political and social ideals. As a result, there was no base for doing "in-reach" and education about social-change issues. The agenda remained narrowly focused on stopping the dump. After the Needles office opened, activists could have educated supporters through the existing Fort Mojave Indian Tribe newsletter or the local newspaper (whose editor strongly supports the campaign). No one even considered approaching these publications, and there was no support for dealing with social-change issues in the "Save Ward Valley" newsletter when it finally appeared in January '97.

Activists in the Ward Valley coalition failed to open up the "in" group that ran the campaign and establish a clear, agreed-upon process for decision-making. The status quo allowed them to fend off ideas they did not like and keep the power they already had. The general meetings at the large gatherings in '95-'97 had little impact on this situation. Instead, the coalition metamorphosed gradually into the solidarity group it now is, which probably suited the agendas of most of the "in" group members. Whether or not it suited the hundreds of supporters who came to the gatherings and sent in donations, who knows? They were never asked.

How could this outcome have been avoided? Or, to put things more positively, how can direct-action, consensus-process, social-change activists ensure their views get a fair hearing in coalitions in which they participate? For one, social-change activists must organize themselves and demand a voice in coalitions. Group action is essential. Printed materials that explain their ideals and relate the specific issues of the campaign to their larger vision of social change should be distributed. Activists must speak up for their beliefs at meetings and in the daily work of their coalitions. They do not need to apologize for themselves or their ideals. What they represent is not simply an example of "white-male-Anglo cultural imperialism." Consensus process has ancient roots. It was profoundly affected by the feminist movement, which we should honor and defend. Nonviolent direct action is similarly ancient and has been used in movements guided by Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Jr. and other non-white human beings of courage and genius.

Activists are often deterred by attacks from power holders and misled by the smoke screens used to disguise the motives for their hostility. Activists must be patient, nonviolent in word as well as deed and persistent. Ongoing outreach among the supporters of the coalitions, using talks, workshops and slide shows about past campaigns and nonviolent direct actions is important. They must not be swallowed up with just keeping the coalition going. Above all, they must realize that nonviolence training at the eleventh hour, right before the crucial action, will not make up for the lack of previous sustained outreach. Yes, they can hold training at that point, but, if the Ward Valley campaign is any example, will their non-white allies attend?

Even if the consensus approach is ignored during coalition decision-making, social-change activists must insist their own group(s) observe the process. That means rotating spokespeople who will return to discuss any changes to existing consensuses with their group. This practice avoids aiding and abetting "in" group formation or perpetuation and may even inspire other groups in the coalition with a model of direct democracy. In fact, it is very likely other groups have never given process issues any real thought and will instead be making do with the "white man's ways."

All this is asking a lot of ourselves. But the alternative for nonviolent direct-action people who believe in the need for social change is to be ignored by coalitions until the crisis comes, get called in like the fire brigade, then thanked and sent away until the next crisis. Change must begin with us, and I believe we are capable of making it happen.

Click here to read the response piece: "Not Social Change, It Is Holy War"