DOMA and Proposition 8: The perils and benefits of an activist Supreme Court

The Supreme Court rulings on the Defence of Marriage Act and Proposition 8 stand in stark contrast to the day before, and show a split activist court.

The Supreme Court giveth, the Supreme Court taketh away. Just a day after a landmark ruling that rolled the civil rights movement back several decades on race, two more rulings were handed down by that most august of bodies today that roll it several decades forward on gender. One, by denying the right to appeal of a group of supporters of California's Proposition 8, effectively legalised gay marriage in the US's most populous state.

The other, a much more direct – and therefore important – ruling, found a central clause of the hated Defence Of Marriage Act (DOMA), which denied gay couples equal protection under the law, unconstitutional. So while the day before was a bad day for black Americans, yesterday was a great day for gay Americans.

The one anchovy in the trifle was Justice Antonin Scalia, whose enraged dissenting opinion laid into Justice Kennedy's striking-down of DOMA, and who hinted that, while the Court had chosen not to directly address the national constitutionality of a ban on gay marriage in any state – dismissing the Proposition 8 case and sending it back to the 9th Circuit court of California's decision instead – it is inevitable now that one day the Court will take a similar case on merit at some point in the future. He went on grumpily to say that Kennedy was acting with “real cheek” by saying that the constitutionality of gay marriage wasn't up in front of the court yet.

This kind of judicial activism infuriated Scalia. “We have no power to decide this case,” he raged. “And even if we did, we have no power under the Constitution to invalidate this democratically adopted legislation. The Court’s errors on both points spring forth from the same diseased root: an exalted conception of the role of this institution in America.” This was pretty ironic, actually; just the previous day, Scalia had no such qualms about judicial activism when the court was addressing a conservative issue: he voted enthusiastically to gut the Voting Rights Act – which had been reaffirmed in Congress in 2006 by a huge majority.

It would be wrong to say that hypocrisy about juducial activism is unique to the conservatives on the bench. Justice Ginsberg's anguished dissenting opinion on striking down the Voting Rights Act is in contrast to her full-throated support of Justice Kennedy's majority opinion on DOMA; though she, along with Scalia, voted to send Proposition 8 back to California rather than address its merits there and then it is probably that had they debated the issue she and Scalia would be on different sides. Justice Kennedy is, as usual, the tipping-point between conservatives and liberals on the court – he joined Justice Roberts in voting to strike down the VRA. He is therefore probably the most important Justice.

But Scalia's prediction is probably also correct. The majority opinion by Kennedy on DOMA contains language that will allow for plenty of challenges to the constitutionality of marriage inequality down the line. He said, for example, that DOMA constituted nothing less than a “deprivation of the equal liberty of persons that is protected by the Fifth Amendment, and also that it “humiliates tens of thousands of children now being raised by same-sex couples,” and bases an argument around giving “dignity” to same-sex families. All of these give immediate legal precedent for challenges to state gay-marriage bans. So while this wasn't a day of final victory on marriage equality, it was decisive nonetheless. Sometimes an activist court isn't so bad.

San Francisco's City Hall flies the rainbow flag. Photograph: Getty Images

Nicky Woolf is a writer for the Guardian based in the US. He tweets @NickyWoolf.

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Labour's establishment suspects a Momentum conspiracy - they're right

Bernie Sanders-style organisers are determined to rewire the party's machine.  

If you wanted to understand the basic dynamics of this year’s Labour leadership contest, Brighton and Hove District Labour Party is a good microcosm. On Saturday 9 July, a day before Angela Eagle was to announce her leadership bid, hundreds of members flooded into its AGM. Despite the room having a capacity of over 250, the meeting had to be held in three batches, with members forming an orderly queue. The result of the massive turnout was clear in political terms – pro-Corbyn candidates won every position on the local executive committee. 

Many in the room hailed the turnout and the result. But others claimed that some in the crowd had engaged in abuse and harassment.The national party decided that, rather than first investigate individuals, it would suspend Brighton and Hove. Add this to the national ban on local meetings and events during the leadership election, and it is easy to see why Labour seems to have an uneasy relationship with mass politics. To put it a less neutral way, the party machine is in a state of open warfare against Corbyn and his supporters.

Brighton and Hove illustrates how local activists have continued to organise – in an even more innovative and effective way than before. On Thursday 21 July, the week following the CLP’s suspension, the local Momentum group organised a mass meeting. More than 200 people showed up, with the mood defiant and pumped up.  Rather than listen to speeches, the room then became a road test for a new "campaign meetup", a more modestly titled version of the "barnstorms" used by the Bernie Sanders campaign. Activists broke up into small groups to discuss the strategy of the campaign and then even smaller groups to organise action on a very local level. By the end of the night, 20 phonebanking sessions had been planned at a branch level over the following week. 

In the past, organising inside the Labour Party was seen as a slightly cloak and dagger affair. When the Labour Party bureaucracy expelled leftwing activists in past decades, many on went further underground, organising in semi-secrecy. Now, Momentum is doing the exact opposite. 

The emphasis of the Corbyn campaign is on making its strategy, volunteer hubs and events listings as open and accessible as possible. Interactive maps will allow local activists to advertise hundreds of events, and then contact people in their area. When they gather to phonebank in they will be using a custom-built web app which will enable tens of thousands of callers to ring hundreds of thousands of numbers, from wherever they are.

As Momentum has learned to its cost, there is a trade-off between a campaign’s openness and its ability to stage manage events. But in the new politics of the Labour party, in which both the numbers of interested people and the capacity to connect with them directly are increasing exponentially, there is simply no contest. In order to win the next general election, Labour will have to master these tactics on a much bigger scale. The leadership election is the road test. 

Even many moderates seem to accept that the days of simply triangulating towards the centre and getting cozy with the Murdoch press are over. Labour needs to reach people and communities directly with an ambitious digital strategy and an army of self-organising activists. It is this kind of mass politics that delivered a "no" vote in Greece’s referendum on the terms of the Eurozone bailout last summer – defying pretty much the whole of the media, business and political establishment. 

The problem for Corbyn's challenger, Owen Smith, is that many of his backers have an open problem with this type of mass politics. Rather than investigate allegations of abuse, they have supported the suspension of CLPs. Rather than seeing the heightened emotions that come with mass mobilisations as side-effects which needs to be controlled, they have sought to joins unconnected acts of harassment, in order to smear Jeremy Corbyn. The MP Ben Bradshaw has even seemed to accuse Momentum of organising a conspiracy to physically attack Labour MPs.

The real conspiracy is much bigger than that. Hundreds of thousands of people are arriving, enthusiastic and determined, into the Labour party. These people, and their ability to convince the communities of which they are a part, threaten Britain’s political equilibrium, both the Conservatives and the Labour establishment. When the greatest hope for Labour becomes your greatest nightmare, you have good call to feel alarmed.