I decided to go to Washington with my camera so that I could see for myself and document the counter-inaugural protests. While on the way back home, I wrote everything that happened down in my notebook. The following is a typed version of it. I've accompanied it with stills taken from the video footage that I shot (and just recently added a "music video" at the end).7:20 PM - .... Where to begin. Right now I'm riding the train back to Penn Station, New York. Actually, the train hasn't started moving yet. There were delays.... more on that later. Now, let me try and start at the beginnig about the protests.
After finally navigating through the Metro system and arriving at Franklin Square, the first thing I noticed was the noise of the megaphones. By this point they had various speakers emoting about an assortment of anti-war and liberal issues. Upon emerging from underground, I then began to see the crowds. It was hard to get an idea about the number of people at first, being right in the middle of them, but it had to be around a couple thousand. Everyone was wearing anti-Bush clothing, waving anti-Bush signs, passing out anti-Bush stickers, etc, etc. A good number of the signs were generally pro-peace and anti-war related.
What was really interesting to see, though, was how creative a lot of people got about it. There was a surprising amount of performance artists; costumes, dances, songs, music, dramatic exposition, and so on. One of my personal favorites had to be the "Billionaires-for-Bush" group, who were dressed as filthy-rich aristocras, goofing on the administration and the "top one percent", and speaking in haughty-taughty accents.
Another traveling troupe of actors put on a street performance of "The Gonzales and Rumsfield Trial." Some people created elaborate, papier-mâché faces or works of art promoting peace. Through it all there was music, from both the loudspeakers as well as groups of various ethnic-styled drum players. One guitarist had written some entertaining anti-Bush-themed songs.
Sometime during all this, the DAWN (D.C. Anti-War Network) parade met up with the Franklin Square group, increasing the number of people by several thousand. The square became intensely crowded, but everyone seemed to be having a great time talking, singing and dancing, waving signs, etc.
[Edit: The DAWN parade marched in carrying cardboard coffins, representing the soldiers who had died in Iraq, shouting a chant of "What do we want?" "PEACE!" "When do we want it?" "NOW!"]
Eventually, urged on by the apparent leaders of the groups, many of the people began to move closer towards Pennsylvania Avenue and the White House, After picking up some interviews, I followed them. The groups became more dispersed along the extensive avenue. All around the areas leading up to the White House or where the motorcade might be passing were tall, chain fences. At various locations there were small openings in the fences, where groups of policemen allowed in small files of people. These people consisted mainly of those dressed in military uniforms or cowboy hats... Hmm... No protesters or liberals were permitted inside, naturally. Keep in mind, these weren't entrances to the actual inauguration, but blockades set up in the streets leading up to where the parade would go through. What's the point of a parade if it's not open to the public? Some of us asked the guards how one might be allowed to enter. We were informed that we needed tickets. When asked where we could get these tickets or where we might have gotten such tickets before, the guards claimed ignorance.
[I would learn more about this on Friday when I returned to school. In order to go near these parts of the street, you had to have bought tickets from the Republican party at a previous time. This effectively ruled out anyone opposed to Bush being in the crowd, as no democrats or liberals would want to financially support the Neocons. As it turns out, some protesters did manage to buy tickets anyway and demonstrate along the parade, as shown on the news, but their numbers were nothing in comparison to the people I had been covering, the ones locked out from their own city]At any rate, the demonstrators were all stuck on the wrong side of the city. Many of them had congregated around the "Gates" (the entrances to the parade-streets, as they had been called and numbered). I went around and shot footage of the various going-ons. At one end, a group of people had spread themselves out on the pavement and pretended to be dead, in honor and memory of those killed or wounded in Iraq. Some of them had painted on false wounds and bloodstains. They remained very still. Each time I returned to that place, the same people would still be there. Some had begun to shiver from the cold. As thanks, passing protesters would lay flowers on them before continuing on their way. Surrounding them were people with large, prominent anti-war banners.
[I'd never have the endurance for that. They were there for hours]Many demonstrators walked back and forth, yelling out slogans or still singing songs. It was around this time that I met one of the very few conservative counter-protesters that I saw the entire time. The sign he carried stated very bluntly, in large, capital letters: "PEACE SUCKS." I interviewed this man as I had the others, asking him what his message would be to the others here in Washington. He said, and I quote, "We shouldn't have peace with terrorists, so peace sucks. Peace with terrorists sucks." It almost seemed like some kind of joke, but I could tell from his speech and manner that he was, in fact, perfectly serious. He was also of the opinion that the United States "shouldn't stop in Iraq," and should "free the people" in Cuba as well. Surrounded by so many peace activists, this person's insensitive desire for continued war seemed somehow unreal, and above all nonsensical. He looked left and right amidst the crowd, as if searching for reactions, waiting to see who would get pissed off. Nobody did, though. There would be no sense in arguing with someone like that.
Anyway, I proceeded to wander around some more, getting more footage. Ominous, unlabeled vans with tinted windows were parked at various locations. When the windows rolled down, men with binoculars and dark sunglasses could be seen peering out at the protesters. Each van had at least five or six blurry figures sitting inside. Go figure.
I met some interesting war veterans on the streets, one from Vietnam who was being recorded for radio, speaking about the country's recurring ignorance in the act of invading and occupying foreign nations. He then repeated his slogans for the radio people, in which he called on Bush to send the twins to his debacle in Iraq if he cared about it so much. He was quite a character. I then saw a very funny protest action, in which one person dressed up as Bush, complete with suit and rubber mask, held greedily onto a globe and a can of oil, while another person behind him, dressed as Cheney, manipulated his movements though the use of puppet strings. Highly amusing. Everyone laughed, even the men in uniform who were waiting in line for access to the parade.
Little by little the crowds seemed to disperse and head elsewhere. It was after 3:00 PM by this time. I returned to the original meeting place at the square and found it on its way towards vacancy. I taped another interview, filmed some footage of an impromptu-musical group playing Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here", and then decided it would be prudent to call it a day and return home early in case I ran into more train trouble. It seemed as if it was all finished up by then. What I didn't realize then was that many had moved further inward into the city, attempting to make their way towards the motorcade.
Meanwhile, I packed up my camera and walked into a nearby restaurant for a late lunch. Sitting at a table were a few of the protesters I had seen earlier. As I waited at the counter for my food, I saw the owner of the restaurant (at least, I assumed it was the owner) get into a little argument with the demonstrators, informing them that they couldn't just lounge about without buying anything. One of the women pointed to a drink she had just purchased, to which the owner questioned as to whether she had gotten a refill. She said she had, and he informed her that she owed him a dollar fifty, being that there were no free refills in the establishment. I wonder if the man would have made such a fuss had these people not been wearing anti-war buttons. Then again, maybe he just wasn't fond of protests. After all, only 9% of DC voted for Bush in the election. Anyway, after another woman sat down with a tray of food at their table he stopped interrogating them, though every few minutes he and the employees would mutter under their breath something along the lines of "This is a restaurant, not a charity center..." When I finally recieved my own food, I made sure to go over and thank the people for their efforts during the protests, so as they wouldn't get discouraged.
On my way out, I saw countless police cars and those unmarked vans pass by with their sirens on. I asked a fellow bystander what he supposed it might be about, and he said it could have something to do with Gate 13. I asked him what he meant, and he proceeded to give me some valuable information. Remember those chain-link fences I told you about? Apparently they ran for miles around, cutting off an enormous area of the city and sealing it off from anyone who was not on some pre-determined list of desirables. However, authorities had released information stating that Gate 13 would be open to the public, because, well, designating an entire section of the city as Republican-only would be, you know,
wrong, obviously. 'What's this?' I thought. 'The Bush administration worrying even a little bit abut political unity and public freedom?' It sounded almost too good to be true. Well, guess what?
It
WAS. Various protesters and peaceful demonstrators arrived at Gate 13 not only to discover that there was no such opening, but were also met with a wall of police officers in full riot gear. None were allowed entry. Reportedly, some of the protesters got a little upset. Can you blame them? They attempted to move past the riot-guards and were held back with water hoses and pepper-spray. I thanked the man for his information, and hurriedly followed his directions to Gate 13. A few blocks later, I happened upon the scene. And there was the riot squad, complete with their padded, jet-black suits, face shields, batons, and pepper-spray.
They were meant to be an intentionally menacing presence, and you could feel their effect on the crowd. However, by the time I arrived there the protesters had regrouped and were busier than ever chanting peace slogans. Some had clambered on top of the road blocks meant to stop vehicles, and addressed the crowd with megaphones. At this time I quickly unpacked my camera, not bothering to attach the microphone, recording audio from the internal mic only. Over time, more and more of the riot-police appeared, resembling something out of sci-fi films grouped together in their outfits. After amassing a veritable force, they proceeded to march straight down the street, bisecting the crowd. Many immediately piled to the side out of the way. The riot-guards went to the center of the road, and met up with more "reinforcements" from the opposite end. The first sign of resistance from the protesters came in comedic form; a man began marching in time with the policemen behind them, but with exaggerated footsteps and his arm extended outward in the traditional "Heil Hitler!" salute. Laughter was quick to follow. Encouraged, the crowd began a rhythmic chant of "Heil Bush!"
Once in the center of the street, the riot-guards extended out as two columns in opposite directions, pushing the protesters back onto the sidewalk. A third line of policemen marched up the middle, preventing people from progressing down the street. Beyond them was what was supposed to be the sought-after Gate 13, which had been thoroughly barricaded. Through the fences, you could see the parade passing through in the distance. Cheerful announcers shouted out obscure political propaganda about freedom and forefathers, feigning obliviousness to the thousands of protesters trapped behind chain fence, riot-guards, and squad cars.
Is this what Bush meant by seeking unity between Americans? Or is it part of his indefinite battle against the terrorists within? This didn't happen last time around, nor at any other presidential inauguration. It is possible to keep a crowd of peaceful protesters under control without locking them out of their own city. The only ones creating a hostile environment were the riot-guards.
Confronted by this insult to their rights, the demonstrators increased their vigilance. The crowd began to chant "This is what a police state looks like," pointing at the riot-guards. Many attempted to talk to them, asking if they felt they were doing the right thing. A large group of kids planted themselves in front of the line of policemen. Everywhere there were accusations of fascist-style behavior on the part of the authorities, and many demanded why pepper-spray had been used on them. I could see members of the crowd still had bleary red eyes and faces. Some held cloth to their faces. One had even put on a gas-mask to avoid becoming a repeat-victim.
During this time I managed to attach the higher-quality mic, and I interviewed one such victim. He was a fellow videographer, not associated with the protesters, and he told me of how he had seen a protester being sprayed in the face and when he approached to videotape the act he had received three blasts of the spray in his eyes.
Having since gotten medical treatment, he told me that he had captured all of it on video, and he would be sending the footage to the Associated Press. I thanked him, and returned to covering the crowd. New chants and slogans were surfacing constantly, such as "Ho! Ho! Hey! Hey! Bin Laden was trained by the C-I-A!" This crowd was made mainly of young people like me, and the streets were teeming with idealism. Their attempts at starting conversations, of course, were not retuned by the riot-guards, though they did get a few to smile at some of the songs.
Unfortunately, the peak of the crowd's activism did not last. At one point, a small group of well-dressed Swiftboat-Veterans-For-Truth-Wannabes appeared out of nowhere from a nearby media building, carrying ambiguous anti-Kerry signs. As in all such situations, inflammatory responses began to fly back and forth, and the crowd became distracted, drawing away from the fences and the parade beyond that was their goal. Some stayed back, wisely advising others to ignore the newcomers as they, obviously, also had the right to free speech. Then, amidst some heated shouting, kids started sitting down in front of the conservative counter-protesters and held up their fingers in the "peace" sign at their fellow demonstrators. Finally, people got the message. But by the time the Swiftboat-esque guys had integrated themselves into the crowd, a significant portion of the protesters had dissipated. Hundreds and hundreds still remained, but the difference was obvious.
Still, the remaining protesters stayed creative. A drumbeat had started up, and a large circle of people held hands and formed around the riot-guards (who had once again amassed in the center). Previously, some students had walked between the policemen and the other protesters, placing flowers down on the line that separated them, and told the riot-guards that this kind of division was what was exactly wrong with the current state of American democracy, and that hopefully someday such separation would not exist. It sounded silly and idealistic, but I believe they were being sincere about their words. And if you ask me, I'll take silly idealism over belligerent warmongering any day.
Slowly but surely, the protesters began to disappear. The motorcade was ending. Some still remained seated in front of the riot-guards. The one closest to the line was sitting in an almost meditative position. and had pulled a black hat down over his face, shutting himself off from the world. He had been sitting there for a long time.
Finally the last protesters started to leave. The parade had ended. But the young man with the hat remained motionless. On their way out, the riot police marched up to him.
They tried to get him to stand up. It didn't matter at this point; the protests were over. Everyone was going home. And yet they still tried to order him around.
It's not like they could have forcefully lifted him up, and even if they were thinking about it they sure weren't going to while I was sitting there recording them with my camera. So eventually they walked past him, returning to their squad cars and vans. Only after they had gone did the young man's friend run up to him and get him off the road.
It must have been around 6:00 PM by then. The day was over. Having become somewhat disoriented, I followed a small group of college students to the Metro station. They were nice kids. They would be staying in a log cabin for the night, they told me. I thanked them for letting me tag along, and then traveled through the metro to Union Station.
I don't even really feel like writing about the annoying last-minute security procedures that caused me to miss the first train back to New York. Basically, they didn't let you buy tickets on the train anymore, and sent you through a run-around system instead. It was annoying.
Well, I guess that's about it. Now I'm in the train, passing through New Jersey. It's been an interesting, tiring day. Parts of it were inspiring, others depressing. I only hope that people my age will continue to be politically active into the future. It may seem foolish or hopelessly idealistic sometimes, but the day people stop voicing their beliefs, in protest or any other form, is the day our society truly dies.
And now, I will try to get some sleep. My fingers hurt from writing.
- 10:20 PM[It would be almost 2:00 AM when I finally returned home. Over twenty hours since I left. Four hours later I got up and went to school. Just now I threw together some of the clips to a Radiohead song (appropriately from the album entitled "Hail to the Thief"), so it's kind of a quick music-video. I'm making a real "documentary" with the footage, too, but it's going to take a while to finish it. In the meantime, view the music video at:
http://www.vangorderstudios.com/protest/movies/inaugural2.mov
