First, let's be blunt. I hate Wal-Mart. And let's be honest. I
do shop there, less out of a desire to do so, and more because it is one of the only places to get what I need in the small town in which I live (the Wal-Mart here is of the old-fashioned early Sam Walton variety: it stocks the basics. The
very basics). I hate Wal-Mart for the reasons that people everywhere hate it. It's the epitome of the postmodern corporation: it gives us cheap (finanically and materially), shoddy merchandise made in China by exploited workers, while promoting a carefully-constructed mythology of
American values: helping out the working class, being "good for the community" and allowing mom to stay within her budget. In reality, the economic behavior of Wal-Mart in the United States and elsewhere should make them the
enemy of the working class, particularly if we look at their atrocious record of workplace gender and racial discrimination (women and other minority groups missing out on promotions), and denial of health care to its workers by re-defining what "full-time" meant. For more, see Robert Greenwald's 2005 documentary
Wal-Mart: the High Cost of Low Price.
Since the end of the Bush era, Wal-Mart has invested in a healthy dose of re-branding. Let's take a look at the "military industrial complex" Wal-Mart (original photo
here):
The red, white and blue (and cement gray), clearly meant to emphasize the
patriotic nature of shopping (as promoted by George W.
Bush in 2007), fit nicely with the pretty star-cum-hyphen between
Wal and
Mart:
Of late, we have seen a move to this cleaner, more environmentally-conscious looking logo:
No matter how it defines itself to the public, Wal-Mart still has the reputation for deciding to set up shop where it is least welcome. Claiming that it will provide impoverished communities with a healthy supply of jobs, it seems to nearly always get its way when all is said and done. Its idea of "living better" is being able to do "one-stop shopping," where you can get groceries, prescriptions, clothes, a burger at McDonalds, an oil change for your car, a lawnmower and perhaps a bookcase or two all under one roof. On the way out, stop at the Wal-Mart gas station for some extra cheap gas too! Wal-Mart made other kinds of shopping -- the pharmacy, the clothing boutique, the family-owned hardware store -- extinct, turning town squares into a bunch of empty storefronts and making small business owners and employees largely unnecessary.
For some time now, Wal-Mart has been involved in a dispute in the state of Virginia over whether the former should be permitted to build near an historic battle site of the American Civil War. Wal-Mart argues, once again, that the construction will bring many new jobs to the area. It also states that it would be building in an area already dotted with retail locations. Those involved in the local tourism industry claim that what visitors desire is familiarity, convenience and access, which Wal-Mart can provide (see
video). Historical preservationists are concerned by the shopping center's proposed proximity to the site of the
Battle of the Wilderness, a turning point of the war. For a change, Republicans and Democrats have, together with historians and celebrities, teamed up to keep Wal-Mart out. This week, the
case goes to court. It is hard to overlook the irony of the battle's name in its confrontation with the corporate giant. It is getting harder and harder to imagine
any wilderness in this country.
When I was growing up, in 1980s Ohio, my parents took my sister and I on many exciting "one tank trip" vacations. We got to know our state parks, in other words. But three of the most thrilling summer trips were going from Ohio-Florida (in a brown Valiant with vinyl seats and no air conditioning!), Ohio-Great Smoky Mountains and Ohio-Maine. There were no Wal-Marts to stop at along the way. And yes, a certain amount of "wilderness" was involved -- we were never sure where we would end up and what we might find there. We had to pack for the unexpected. We drove all day, until my parents were too tired to go any further -- and then we found a hotel. We always had enough gas, because we were never sure where the next gas station would be -- it's not like now, where there is one at every highway exit. The littering of the American landscape with Wal-Marts and other similar structures makes our universe always 24-7, always within reach. We don't have to rely on ourselves, because Wal-Mart will always be there to help us out of a jam, as this 2008 map from
Wal-Mart Watch suggests:
The impact of Wal-Mart construction is not only environmental and cultural, but, as the case in Virginia demonstrates, historical. Does it really matter, as some claim, that the proposed store location would fall outside the actual
core of the Civil War battlefield, where some 30,000 were killed, injured or disappeared? Does building a perimeter of commerce -- with Wal-Mart at the helm -- around the battle area defame or re-shape this "site of memory"?
There are those who argue -- including the Pulitzer prize-winning historian
James McPherson -- that the building site that would be occupied by Wal-Mart was in and of itself part of the battle area:
McPherson is expected to testify that the store's site and nearby acres were blood-soaked ground and a Union "nerve center" in the battle. Grant's headquarters and his senior leaders were encamped near the site of the proposed store and Union casualties were treated there or in an area destined to be the store's parking lot, McPherson wrote in a summary of his testimony.
"Among other things, thousands of wounded and dying soldiers occupied the then open fields that included the Walmart site, which is where many of the Union Army hospital tents were located during the battle," McPherson wrote.
The
pro-Wal-Mart side claims, on the other hand, that "'There is no indication that any significant historical event occurred on this land.'"
It will be interesting to see how this story develops, especially given the upcoming commemoration of the Civil War. The interest in "historical preservation" in the United States is very uneven. On the one hand, this country seems to favor a "throw away" architectural practice -- build one, build more, and if it doesn't work, tear it down and build it again. Or,
if it's old, it's no good. The U.S. is a largely forward-looking society -- rather than honoring "tradition," it likes to see "progress," which often means the building and opening of new, often unnecessary, stores. But at the same time, it is also a country -- like others, I suppose -- that engages in a very selective monumentalization -- Mt. Rushmore, the Statue of Liberty, the new World Trade Center.
The American Civil War is a defining piece of U.S. history. Why does Wal-Mart need to build
right there, near the battle site of the Battle of the Wilderness? Surely, it is not the only location available. It seems more likely that the company hopes to capitalize on the challenges of the current economy -- perhaps, by linking itself to perceived demands of local tourism as well.
