“Fox News sucks! Fox News
sucks! Fox News sucks!”
A group of demonstrators
gathered near the rear bumper of a black Fox News van and chanted abuse
at two of Rupert Murdoch’s employees, who sat and took it with fatuous
It was late in United
for Peace & Justice’s march Sunday, at a corner of Fifth Avenue
in the 20s. The group of demonstrators had already filed past Madison
Square Garden, shaking their fists and shouting slogans at the empty
arena that would be filled for the next few days with Republican delegates.
They were now headed back
to Union Square. There were no cops, and no metal barricades. The only
thing that prevented the mob from crossing the line and violently attacking
the hapless technicians—tools of the enemy—was self-restraint.
That, in a nutshell, sums
up the mood of the march. How else can you explain only 200 arrests
among half a million demonstrators, especially after weeks of anarcho-hysteria
on TV and in the papers. Some news commentators have pointed to the
massive and very visible presence of the police as a deterrent to violence
and destruction. But only a simple-minded idiot would offer fear as
an explanation. It was evident from the outset that the protesters were
mostly peaceniks with two things in common: virulent opposition to George
Bush, and the war in Iraq.
Indeed, it was a broad
cross-section of people under the rubric of the United for Peace &
Justice coalition. Of course there were all manner of freaks, communists,
and radicals. But various other demographics were well represented,
too: young, old, middle-aged, Asian, black, white, Latino, yuppies,
Two old men sat on the
sidewalk along Seventh Avenue, each holding one end of a “Veterans from
the Abraham Lincoln Brigade” banner. One of them explained, “We started
fighting fascists in Spain, and we’re still fighting fascism today.”
A few fascist-types crowded
along the route. Most came under the banner of Protest Warrior: “fighting
the left…doing it right.” Several of their laminated signs read, “War
Has Never Solved Anything…Except For Ending Slavery, Fascism, Nazism,
Trying to talk to these
people wasn’t easy. First, you have to shout over their shouting, and
then try to follow a series of non-sequiturs. In the context of the
war in Iraq, you might be told how bad Saddam Hussein has been to his
own people—a point that everybody can agree on. Never mind that the
rationale for war was the danger Hussein posed not to his own people,
but to America with weapons of mass destruction.
some on the Right suffer from a congenital impairment that prevents
them from understanding nuance. It’s sort of a learning disability,
but it cannot be easily treated. What you also find is that behind the
belligerent posturing and rhetoric is often a pathetic and scared schlub.
Take Hank Frank (he insisted that was his real name) from one of the
Islips on Long Island (East, West, Central, I can’t remember).
During my freshman year
of college the guy in the dorm room next to mine was from East Islip.
He was an overweight loudmouth. He was soon universally despised, and
for good reason, because he mercilessly bullied his roommate, a pale,
meek kid from Utica, who was painfully awkward and shy. This guy from
East Islip imposed his will, sometimes violently, over matters large
and small, including which channel to watch on TV. Eventually, he drove
the Utica kid from the room for good, and into full-blown alcoholism
and a self-destructive bent. It happened faster than you could imagine;
his confidence was so shot from all the shit he endured.
I imagined Hank Frank
was on the same kind of power trip—kick the weak. They may be teaching
it in the schools out on Long Island. Still, Frank was not ready for
the commitment that real violence requires. I don’t think his body could
handle it. He was not small, but at 25 or so, he had a gut that most
men twice his age would be a little ashamed of. And he was sweating
terribly, so that his thick glasses slid down his nose.
Frank explained that he
would have enlisted in the military, but he had been offered a really
good job, and his girlfriend, and parents had urged him not go to Iraq—begged,
he said. So Frank relented. But before anyone could question his credentials,
he quickly pointed out that his grandfather had served in WWII.
At least Frank had the
ability to calm down enough to talk honestly, which is when it became
clear that behind his bluster he was just a pathetic, brainwashed jackass.
Others, though, were more inclined toward histrionics.
One red-faced guy with
white hair was hanging over the metal barricades and screaming at passersby.
He stood on the sunny side of the street wearing a dark plaid long sleeve
button down shirt, and appeared to be going mad from the heat. His outstretched
arms nearly hit me in the face as I passed, which is why I gave him
the finger, only a few inches from his mug, which at the time was screwed
up into an expression of anger and pain as he bellowed at some imagined
It’s true what they say
about small gestures—they can go a long way. He immediately went into
near-apoplexy. “Hey, buddy,” he screamed, “you have a lot of class!”
I turned and gave him a smile as I walked away.
“A lot of class,” he yelled.
didn’t amount to more than a small sideshow and a chance to have a little
fun. After all, the United for Peace & Justice demonstration was
the largest demonstration at a political convention—ever. Larger than
Chicago in 1968, where all order broke down when Mayor Richard Daley
turned the cops out on the demonstrators, causing a week of running
Commissioner Ray Kelly’s cops were mostly non-confrontational, although
their presence was impossible to ignore. Police helicopters hung overhead
like dragonflies. The Fuji Film blimp, ostensibly in the City to cover
the U.S. Open tennis tournament in Flushing, Queens, actually had cops
on board filming the march. Cops peered from rooftops. I asked one legal
observer from the National Lawyers Guild how he knew the heads on one
rooftop were cops. “I can smell them from here,” he replied.
* * *
I was thinking about the
exercise of awesome power while lying on the Great Lawn in Central Park
on Saturday. Like Sunday, the weather was lovely, although a bit too
humid. All around people played Frisbee and softball and lounged about.
I was lying on my stomach, enjoying the sun, when the grass distracted
The Great Lawn has the
finest grass in New York City, and possibly anywhere. It’s a thick,
green rye variety, cropped short, which perfectly frames the nutmeg-colored
infields. Some of the nation’s finest golf courses are envious, but
they can’t afford it, not without raising club fees.
My friend Carl, a groundskeeper
at the world-famous Tournament Players Club at Sawgrass in Florida,
has been experimenting for years with a hybrid that he says will match
or surpass the Great Lawn’s grass. I don’t doubt him, although he tends
to drink too much wine and become hyperbolic. He claims that the Great
Lawn’s grass is not hearty enough for the intense Florida sun. Moreover,
he says it would never withstand the heavy trudging of the galleries
during The Players’ Championship each spring. On this point, he’s probably
right, because the grass at the Great Lawn is notoriously fragile.
Still, it is truly beautiful,
like a briefcase full of neatly stacked $100 bills. Which is what it
took to restore the grass nearly ten years ago.
the 1990s, The Great Lawn was a dustbowl and a civic embarrassment.
Then the Central Park Conservancy came to the rescue. A private group
of rich philanthropists, which included Michael Bloomberg, the Conservancy
raised $18 million for the lawn’s restoration. Afterward, the Conservancy
and the mayor would be damned if they were going to let anyone ruin
the lawn. Which is why there were several hundred cops poised in the
shade on Saturday afternoon.
The ANSWER Coalition and
the National Council of Arab Americans had sought a permit to rally
on the lawn, but were denied on the grounds that they would ruin the
grass. They were again denied after appealing the decision in federal
court. Some whispered that demonstrators would come anyway.
In the end, only two dozen
or so turned out. In fact, they were outnumbered about eight to one
by the cops, news media, and legal observers from the National Lawyers
Guild wearing their trademark neon green caps.
The biggest ruckus of
the afternoon took place on a softball field when a belligerent and
profane argument erupted over a call at third base.
* * *
On Sunday, softball and
the first amendment finally squared off on The Great Lawn.
United For Peace &
Justice had applied for a permit to rally on the lawn after its march
past Madison Square Garden, but was denied first by the city, and then
again in court. Many insisted they would show up anyway, and the police
took it seriously.
By 5 pm, a few thousand
demonstrators had indeed assembled, edging into the outfield and encroaching
on a softball game. The cops tried to keep demonstrators out of the
field of play, but at one point a sharply hit ball sailed into the crowd
in left field. There were conflicting reports whether it struck someone
in the spleen or whether a shirtless man with a beard was merely writhing
on the ground trying to scratch his itchy back. Nevertheless, the outfielder
was upset, because meanwhile the batter had circled the bases and scored.
Otherwise, there was little
action. Out of nearly half a million marchers, less than one tenth had
shown up at The Great Lawn. The Rangers and Knicks get bigger crowds
on Wednesday nights. While some danced or played drums, most slumped
on the grass after a long day in the heat. No one, it seemed, had the
stomach for confrontation, including the cops.
candidate Michael Badnarik had energy though. He bounded all over the
lawn in a suit and tie, trailed by supporters with banners. Lacking
anything else to do, I walked up and introduced myself. Badnarik proceeded
to explain the Libertarian platform.
On universal healthcare:
“Entitlement programs are antithetical to the Constitution,” he said.
“That’s theft. That’s socialism.”
On public education: “The
entire Department of Education is unconstitutional,” he said. “The citizens
of the United States used to be the most intelligent society in the
world. Now we rank approximately 21st in the fields of math
and science. Even if the Department of Education was legal, it is not
doing its job.”
He wants to privatize
all education, and when I noted that his position sounded a lot like
George Bush’s, he replied: “Republicans make wonderful promises. The
problem is they don’t follow through. Remember this: ‘Read my lips;
no new taxes.’ Republicans have made too many promises.”
Right. Badnarik would
cut all entitlement programs, because he and his supporters don’t want
to be taxed to pay for any of them. Social Security, welfare, Medicare,
public education – good-bye to all that radical incipient socialism.
Of course Badnarik has nothing to lose by being honest. After all, he
doesn’t stand a chance in any election.
But Bush does. Which is
why he would never admit to holding those same views. Yet he has slashed
taxes, disproportionately favoring the rich. If he wins in 2004, expect
no debate by 2008 over funding for entitlement programs. The subject
will be moot, because the treasury will be bankrupt.
If you’re wondering what
this Brave New World might look like, read a newspaper from South Africa.
Huge disparities in wealth, lack of basic social services, and guns
for everyone will mean gruesome crimes and world-record violence that
would make Genghis Khan cringe. It is, however, still possible to enjoy
a good cigar on a well-guarded golf course outside Johannesburg. In
a nation with private security forces, the rich can still afford security.
So load up. Another four
years for Bush…no contracts for the cops…peaceful protestors in the
streets of Manhattan attacked by criminal gangs. The lucky will be living
in the Islips, polishing their gun barrels, caressing the dogs, one
eye on the carnage on TV, the other on the gleaming razor wire ribbons
atop the walls.
“Did you hear something
“Relax, Sweetie. They
can’t get us out here. Have another Cosmopolitan.”