人兽性交

It聽was 1991,聽the height of the vibrant alternative music scene in the Pacific Northwest, and a young Black punk rocker by the name of Eric K. Ward was worried.聽

He had reason to be. Police had warned that a group of聽neo-Nazi skinheads was threatening violence at a Eugene, Oregon,聽concert of聽Fugazi, a popular punk band known for pushing back against the growing terror being unleashed by聽white supremacist groups in the region.

But instead of providing a聽security聽presence at the concert hall聽鈥� as the musicians had requested聽鈥撀爐he Eugene Police Department pressured聽the music club management to cancel the concert.聽

The incident, Ward recalled,聽crystallized his understanding of聽just聽how far this country has fallen short聽of the ideal of liberty and justice for all.

鈥淯p until that time, I mostly saw Eugene as a pretty liberal kind of haven,鈥� Ward said. 鈥淏ut this was a wake-up call聽that neo-Nazis聽didn鈥檛 even have to show up, like they had done at clubs and shows in Los Angeles. To shut our scene down they merely had to make the threat, and the community found itself immobilized.鈥澛�

Eric K. Ward in his earlier days.

At that moment, the聽dreadlocked聽ska-punk singer 鈥� who today has become a prominent leader against hatred and extremism 鈥撀燽egan to seek a better way. Bringing together a rainbow of vulnerable communities living under the threat of organized bigotry, he began gradually, step by step, to launch more sophisticated efforts at change.

Ward聽walked into meetings of聽some of the earliest gatherings of America鈥檚 emerging 鈥�alt-right鈥� to try to reason with them. He traveled by bus across thousands of miles to聽help establish聽hundreds of anti-hate task forces in small towns and big cities. He worked with law enforcement on strategies to handle extremists.

And as he began to learn about like-minded community-based efforts around the country focused on human rights, he eagerly reached out to several organizations, including the Southern Poverty Law Center, adopting their playbooks for countering organized hate.

Today,聽Ward鈥檚 dreadlocks are gone, but聽his activism聽still resonates.聽A聽senior fellow with the 人兽性交鈥檚 Intelligence Project聽since April 2020,聽Ward聽this month聽will receive the Civil Courage Prize,聽a human rights award聽that聽recognizes steadfast resistance to evil at great personal risk.聽

鈥淚 don鈥檛 take bullying very well, and I always take the side of those who I think are being bullied,鈥� Ward聽said.聽鈥淎nd聽so聽I think what happened for me is, first, folks are messing with the music that I love. Then, what聽others helped me figure out was, this wasn鈥檛 just a set of individual behaviors, this was an ideology. And it was a political strategy to derail the aspiration for a multiracial and multicultural society, one that was steeped in聽actually trying聽to overcome challenges, not using those challenges as an excuse to descend into chaos and bigotry. That鈥檚 really what galvanized me.鈥澛�

鈥楳ore than just an award鈥櫬�

The award, from聽the New York-based Train Foundation, was created 21 years ago to honor the memory of Soviet human rights leader,聽novelist聽and political prisoner Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. The聽聽has been awarded to dissidents and activists in some of the most dangerous countries in the world.

But this year, in what the foundation calls a wake-up call to the dangerous proliferation of hate crimes and political violence by authoritarian and extremist movements in the United States, Ward聽became聽the first American to receive the prize.

鈥淚t鈥檚 more than just an award, it鈥檚 a call to action,鈥� said Susan Corke, who as director of聽the聽人兽性交鈥檚 Intelligence Project聽leads a team of investigators, analysts and writers who track and expose the activities of hate groups and other far-right extremists.

Herself a leader in the movement against extremist groups聽with a long pedigree contending with bigotry on an international scale,聽Corke said that Ward excels in understanding the connections between racism,聽extremism聽and authoritarianism,聽and just how vulnerable the United States is to聽all聽three.

鈥淚n the past it was often viewed as America鈥檚 role to preach to other people, with this idea that we had our democracy under control,鈥� Corke said. 鈥淏ut Eric has known for decades that is not true. The battle is certainly at home. He has made that clear, and he has the battle scars to prove it.鈥澛�

Kenneth S. Stern,聽director of the Bard Center for the Study of Hate at Bard College in New York, was one of the first people to take Ward鈥檚 activism seriously, back when Ward was a young musician. Stern聽has been a key mentor to聽Ward聽over the years. He calls Ward 鈥渁 force multiplier鈥� who has, since the 1980s, been able to 鈥渃onsistently reinvent himself and play multiple roles in pushing back against hatred.鈥澛�

Today,聽Ward carries a large toolkit.聽He is involved in multiple organized efforts to combat hate and extremism, including聽leading a small staff of talented, effective professionals聽as executive聽director of the influential聽, which strengthens marginalized communities.聽Not only is he known for successfully convening disparate groups to talk,聽he聽writes what Corke calls 鈥渟hape-shifting鈥� essays and speaks around the country.

He has also stood out from some antiracism activists, who see the Black struggle as unique, by insisting that antisemitism is at the heart of聽white nationalism. He is a senior fellow with聽, a racial justice organization, and co-chair of the聽, which promotes democracy, human rights and peace.

Eric K. Ward, left, poses with Fishbone bassist John Norwood Fisher. Fishbone band members and some audience members drove off a physical attack by racist skinheads during a 1986 show at the Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles. (Courtesy of Eric K. Ward)

And聽even though聽his聽punk rock days of stage diving and mosh pits are over, Ward has never turned his back on the punk ethos that raised him. He still performs, writing songs under the alias Bulldog Shadow that he uses to unravel the myths driving political and social divisions in America.聽

The immediacy of Ward鈥檚 work is at play in Portland, Oregon,聽right now, after a year of protests that have put the city under siege, mainly from elements of the far right, but also from some on the far left. Wading into the midst of conflicts聽that聽at times have shut down parts of the city, Ward has met with police and leaders of the various groups in what Corke calls 鈥渟afe conversational spaces.鈥澛�

鈥淗e sat down with some members of the police,聽and they said, 鈥業t takes a lot of courage for you to sit down with us,鈥欌�� Corke recalled. 鈥�(Ward) said, with a smile, 鈥榃ell, it took courage for you to meet with me. 鈥� We don鈥檛 need to be enemies, we can still have a conversation.鈥� That鈥檚 a bravery that carries through all of his work.鈥澛�

Ward was also unafraid to move聽Western States Center聽into the fray surrounding聽Matt Shea, a far-right politician who, despite deep roots in extremist movements, rose to become a powerful member of the Washington State聽Legislature. After the Western States Center and other groups brought Shea鈥檚 views advocating domestic terrorism to the attention of the state鈥檚 Republican Party, Shea was removed from the state Republican caucus. He stepped down in January, opting not to run for reelection.

鈥淲e were proud to聽see the聽Republican Party聽take serious leadership on Shea. They stripped him of聽his resources聽and committees. They isolated聽his bigoted activity to such a degree聽that he decided not to run for聽his office again,鈥� Ward said. 鈥淎nd that鈥檚 what it means to hold civil government accountable in this moment. It shows that there are things we can do despite the horror, despite the fear, despite the dread, to choose to make a difference.鈥澛�

鈥楾he path for equality鈥櫬犅�

Ward learned early in life about the power of hate, and the power of organizing. The son of a struggling single mother in Long Beach, California, in the 1970s, he was bused across town to predominantly white middle and high schools.

Subjected to a constant barrage of racist rhetoric聽from聽white schoolmates and coming of age in the Los Angeles area at a time when gangs ruled the streets聽and the music halls, Ward said he didn鈥檛 think he would live to see his聽30s.聽

Growing up under threat, Ward says, gave him resilience and the strength to recognize the worth of persistence, even in the times we are living in today.

鈥淭here is no sitcom,聽30-minute happy ending to this moment. That鈥檚 not what this win looks like,鈥� Ward said. 鈥淲hat this win looks like is that if we do what we are supposed to do, if we commit to some sacrifices, if we choose to be courageous in this moment, then we secure the path for equality for the future generations that come.鈥澛�

Pictured at top is 人兽性交 Senior Fellow Eric K. Ward.