‘If the
president does not end the war in Iraq, I will as soon as
I take office,” Sen. Hillary Clinton (D-NY) told the thousands
gathered around the base of the Capitol steps, the mothers
cradling their children on the less crowded Capitol lawn,
and the men in suits who stuck their heads out of surrounding
buildings, on Monday. Her strong antiwar message was in stark
contrast to the middle-of-the-road positioning she clung to
before she entered the presidential race. And the strong message
garnered a fervent response from the crowd.
Clinton
had come to the Capitol to accept the endorsement of New York’s
top political figure, Gov. Eliot Spitzer. In addition, she
received the support of other top Democratic politicians,
including Sen. Chuck Schumer, Assembly Speaker Sheldon Silver
and Attorney General Andrew Cuomo. Before she left, Clinton
made an unconventional request of the crowd—she asked them
to text message her. She unveiled a new program that would
allow campaign supporters to keep in touch with her campaign
via text messaging. And yet, just across the park on the other
side of the Capitol, a group of peace demonstrators tried
to send Clinton a message that she likely didn’t get.
While
the politicians down the street praised Clinton, speakers
in West Capitol Park spoke of what Clinton hadn’t done to
stop the war in Iraq or the policies of the Bush administration.
No one gathered had heard Clinton’s message on the war, but
all who were told about it agreed that it was too little,
too late.
“Do you
remember Johnson?” asked Elliot Adams of Veterans for Peace.
“Need I say any more?” (In 1964, President Lyndon Johnson
ran a campaign pledging not to send troops to Vietnam. However,
when he took office, the Vietnam War escalated, and Johnson
did end up sending troops.)
Led by
Adams, the group strolled downtown toward the Leo O’Brien
Federal Building with the warm sun on their backs. They assembled
again in front of the Palace Theatre, literature on nonviolent
resistance was distributed, and the demonstrators were reminded
about a choice they’d soon have to make: Leave when the security
detail in the building asks you to leave and you’ll be fine,
or stay after they ask you to go, and you will likely be processed
and ticketed.
Around
2:30 PM, with Adams leading the way, the group marched into
the lobby of the federal building, where Clinton keeps her
local office. They formed a circle in the lobby with their
backs to the windows, and promptly lifted lists in front of
their faces and began chanting the names of soldiers and civilians
whose lives were taken in the Iraq War. They chanted the names
and ages of the departed and stated, “We remember you,” and
then sounded a gong. Two hours into their stay, Adams began
speaking to representatives of the police, while passersby
in suits and military fatigues gave awkward stares and sometimes
broad smiles.
Bob Alft,
a demonstrator who brought his two sons along for the experience,
stood outside the building, lending support to those inside.
Alft noted that the last time he had been part of a sit-in
at the building, the guards there had been nothing but supportive,
telling the group they were doing the right thing. By 5 PM
the group no longer stood tall—they sat slouched, still methodically
reading names while waiting for the 5:30 PM deadline they
thought was approaching. As 5:30 PM turned to 6:30 PM, Alft
said it had become clear no one was going to be arrested.
“There
was a changing of the guard,” said Alft. “We were allowed
to stay in the lobby and Neil Ford, the upstate commander
of the United States Department of Homeland Security, came
out and said this was his area after closing and we were welcome
to stay as long as we want because he didn’t want to arrest
anyone.”
“I think
we accomplished what we wanted to do,” said Adams. “An official
report was written up and will be delivered to Clinton’s office
telling her 25 demonstrators were in her lobby protesting
her actions.”
—David
King
dking@metroland.net