“Goddamnit, you SHOULD be funding them,” Pablo Eisenberg screamed at a foundation official some years ago as he hung up the phone. “That chicken sh*t. No backbone,” he said to one of us.
That was Pablo at his best, trying to get funding for one of us. The “us” could also have been any organization working to help low-income and marginalized communities empower themselves or to change policies that would encourage it. Of course, if you were on the other end of the call, well, you may have considered it Pablo at his worst, berating grant makers for not doing what he felt was the right thing to do.
No matter which side of the phone you were on, all should be able to agree that we lost another giant in the field of philanthropy when Pablo died last week. Even those he yelled at recognized he oozed passion — and most admired him for that commitment.
And Pablo helped build up and energized allies, not infrequently and confidentially seeding good ideas on which he helped others take the lead and to get the support they needed. He was modest about his own work and shunned credit for these collaborations; it always surprised us to see Pablo blush when someone was too candid about their gratitude, their regard, their love for him.
Early in his career, he worked at the Office of Economic Opportunity, part of the federal government’s War on Poverty. He never gave up the fight to end poverty and address injustice, whether it was in his role at the National Urban Coalition or during his 23-year tenure as the head of the Center for Community Change or during his many years teaching about nonprofit advocacy and the role of philanthropy at Georgetown University’s McCourt School of Public Policy and the Center for Public and Nonprofit Leadership. He defended community organizing, fought for the rights and needs of people marginalized by structural inequities, and advocated for longer-term movement building to promote a multiracial democracy.
Pablo was unparalleled in bringing passion, energy, and fierceness to the fight for justice. Equally remarkable was how much he gave of himself to those fighting for the justice he believed in. His compassion, caring, and support gave solace and renewed energy to those around him. And for those he defended, he was friend, mentor, and helping hand.
Truth to power was a way of life for Pablo, particularly when it came to challenging large foundations. He didn’t believe philanthropy was a zero-sum game — and even if it was, he believed foundations should be putting more resources into social-justice causes.
He fought hard to persuade Congress to increase the 5 percent minimum that foundations are required to distribute from their assets annually. And he wanted most of the increase to go for social-justice grants and grassroots organizing, also eschewing high operating expenses at foundations.
He fought for transparency and accountability in philanthropy. His investigative articles, many of which appeared in the Chronicle, exposed unseemly philanthropic practice. They were tough pieces, exposing things that made foundations squirm. One report he wrote raised concerns about family foundations that channeled their administrative spending in ways that benefited family members.
Once-Radical Views
Today it is commonly held that long-term, general operating grants are a gold standard for philanthropy. When Pablo voiced these ideas decades ago, it was considered radical; the philanthropic establishment said it was just Pablo being Pablo, always challenging just to be challenging. But Pablo was right.
Pablo voiced concern early on about the proliferation of donor-advised funds. How would nonprofits know about the availability of the funds? Why aren’t DAFs subject to the 5 percent-payout rules? Who did DAFs give their money to? Again, Pablo was seen by DAFs as the noodge, the philanthropic curmudgeon. But Pablo was right.
The list could go on and on. He never backed down. His pen was like a dagger; his voice powerful when raised over the phone or in print.
He didn’t challenge philanthropy just for the sake of it. He had a clear agenda. Philanthropy needed to play an important role in promoting a multiracial democracy and reducing inequities. Grant making was one aspect. Foundations also needed to stand up to injustice, to use their political power to speak out. Foundations also needed boards and staffs that reflected the diversity of America and the voices of communities.
We each had a close relationship with Pablo going back over five decades. He was critical to the founding of OMB Watch, an organization Gary founded to promote federal government accountability and transparency, and where Mark and Pablo were board members.
He was family, and it is never easy to lose a family member. We are saddened. At the same time, we should celebrate Pablo’s many accomplishments, which are rich — prolific writer, avid reader, keen intellect, Wimbledon tennis star, family man, friend to many, advocate, and a hell of a good organizer.
For that, we toast the 90 years that Pablo Eisenberg walked this earth and the courage and commitment, the love, he carried every day. It’s hard for us to think of him not being in this world, of there not being Pablo.
Maybe the best tribute is when we face unfairness, when the powerful trample on the less powerful, that we ask ourselves what Pablo Eisenberg would have done. We can demonstrate that we have the backbone he wanted us all to have. And all of us must pick up the fight where he left off.
