For those who may not be familiar with Zinn’s work, he’s probably best known for his book A People’s History of the United States, a kind of alternative take on American history from a perspective that’s rarely (if ever) taught in schools. If history is written by the winners, Zinn’s book is a history written on behalf of the “losers” — from the native Americans exploited and murdered by Christopher Columbus’s crew to the workers crushed beneath the boots of the Robber Barons of the 19th century, through the labor and anti-war activists of the 20th century.

It’s a brutal, but completely factual and matter-of-factly delivered overview of American history, that exposes the grimy reality behind the burnished romantic glow of the rah-rah “official” history we’ve all been fed. I first encountered the book in my 20s, and it absolutely blew my mind. I have no idea what they teach in elementary and high schools today, but back in my day, the American history we received was very much of the patriotic, “greatest nation on Earth” perspective, with the less-savory bits sort of gingerly and briefly dealt with as unfortunate aberrations in an otherwise heroic and noble saga.

It was Zinn who opened my eyes to the ways in which the history of America is a history of wealthy, powerful forces consolidating and cultivating their power and undermining the forces of social justice. As an immigrant to this country who will forever be grateful to have grown up with all the resources and benefits of living in the United States, it was hard to face the unpleasant truth about the horrible things this country has done in the name of its citizens. But I feel I’m a wiser and more enlightened citizen for that knowledge. I can’t recommend this book highly enough.

I pay tribute to Howard Zinn on this weblog because, although I have no idea whether or not Zinn was a vegetarian or what his views on animal rights were, I do know that Zinn and those who support animal rights share a common value — speaking truth on behalf of the powerless and voiceless. Zinn was an iconoclast who championed positions on civil rights and pacifism that were, at the time, deeply unconventional and unpopular. Most of all, though, he was a person of compassion and generosity, who inspired legions of admirers.

To me, Howard Zinn represents everything I aspire to be, as a vegan and as a human being. Anyone else who, like Zinn, spent a lifetime immersed in the most depressing, inhumane aspects of human history, speaking out against towering forces of injustice in front of a mostly apathetic, unaware populace, would likely end up a discouraged cynic. But Zinn was never cynical or hopeless. As disappointed as he could be with the failures of our political leaders, he held steadfast to his belief in the ability of ordinary people to make a difference in the face of overwhelming power:

The challenge remains. On the other side are formidable forces: money, political power, the major media. On our side are the people of the world and a power greater than money or weapons: the truth.

Truth has a power of its own. Art has a power of its own. That age-old lesson — that everything we do matters — is the meaning of the people’s struggle here in the United States and everywhere. A poem can inspire a movement. A pamphlet can spark a revolution. Civil disobedience can arouse people and provoke us to think, when we organize with one another, when we get involved, when we stand up and speak out together, we can create a power no government can suppress. We live in a beautiful country. But people who have no respect for human life, freedom, or justice have taken it over. It is now up to all of us to take it back.

Howard Zinn also left us this, some of the most moving and inspirational words I’ve ever read:

To be hopeful in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness.

What we choose to emphasize in this complex history will determine our lives. If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something. If we remember those times and places — and there are so many — where people have behaved magnificently, this gives us the energy to act, and at least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a different direction.

And if we do act, in however small a way, we don’t have to wait for some grand utopian future. The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory.

I can’t think of a better summation of the moral impulse that underlies veganism. We live in a society dominated by industrial animal agriculture, an institution that is easily as vile and inhuman as anything this country has produced in its history. When I think about the fact that factory farming continues to expand, that global meat production is expected to double in the next ten years, I feel depressed.

But Howard Zinn reminds me that we can choose how we live our lives in the face of cruelty and the worst of human nature. Zinn embodied that truth, as an example of the good people can do when they choose to live the way they think human beings should live.