Outside the hall

Hitting the streets with activists, anti-riot squads and … Arianna.

by Ben Geman

Los Angeles - Monday, August 14, 11 a.m. Say what you will about the protesters: they don't have a message, they're unfocused, they're demonstrating for the sake of demonstrating. But know this, the puppet brigade has the communications thing down pat.

I arrive downtown (by public transit, no less) for a rally and march in support of the U'wa people of Colombia and against Vice President Al Gore's ties to "Big Oil." Activists say the U'wa and their environment are threatened by planned drilling by Occidental Petroleum, a company that Gore has a fair amount of stock in. Unfortunately, I'm late and I've missed the march. I use my cell phone to call one of the hotlines set up by protest organizers and give them my street location downtown. The guy who answers not only tells me exactly where the marchers are but gives me directions on how to catch up with them.

August 14, 12:30 p.m. With so many police officers outfitted in riot gear and so many activists willing to engage in civil disobedience at the drop of a handkerchief, the rapport between cops and demonstrators isn't exactly cozy. And even when things seem under control, they really aren't - as the following transformation from peaceful protest to chaos illustrates.

As I walk with the Occidental rally marchers back towards Pershing Square, the march slows when, as far as I can tell, a handful of people decide to stage an act of civil disobedience and sit in the street. That brings everything to a stop as police, who had been walking to the side of the marchers, flood the street, cutting the marchers off from one another. After the people who sat down indicate their willingness to be arrested, the cops, apparently wanting to clear the space near those practicing civil disobedience, briefly rush forward. This prompts some people to retreat and causes some contact between activists and police. Activists chant "peaceful protest" and "we're non-violent how about you?" as the rush ends. They move back closer to the cops in what becomes a moving stand off. Police warn through a bullhorn that people must keep marching or "you may be arrested or subject to arrest." I smell vinegar, which seasoned activists pour onto rags worn over their faces to dilute the effects of tear gas and pepper spray. It turns out to be unnecessary. And, as I far as I can tell, that's the last of the direct conflict.

Still, it's a fairly ugly standoff that ends only after the protestors who had stayed behind as the rest of the group headed into Pershing Square finally agree to leave the street. A photographer for the Pasadena Star News tells me an officer butted him twice with a baton when police were clearing space on the street after the sit-down, and he shows me a red mark on his torso as proof. The police seemed overly aggressive on the street. But later, closer to the park, they give demonstrators several minutes of warnings to clear an intersection at the park's edge. One officer asks them to use Pershing Square and not the streets to "exercise their First Amendment rights." A small crowd of demonstrators chants "this is what a police state looks like." The police presence is heavy, but I'm not so sure real police states give so many warnings - and requests to merely protest out of the street and in the park. As police/activists conflicts go, this was mild. Later that evening, however, activist run ins with the police will escalate.

August 14, 2:30 p.m. I head over to Patriotic Hall, the downtown site of the Shadow Convention, convened by Arianna Huffington, which blends serious policy discussion (which won't be heard inside the convention hall) with humor. As I enter, I spot Arlington State Representative Jim Marzilli, one of the Massachusetts Legislature's leading progressive voices who's wife, activist Susan Shaer, is a delegate to the real convention. I'm fairly impressed with the protests so far - after all, the Occidental event was nothing if not focused. Marzilli, though, is not confident the street protests are doing a good job getting their message out.

"You see people holding signs, and the signs don't represent any form of discussion the public can join," he says. "The story is always about how many cops were there, was there violence."

August 14, 4:30 p.m. Back at Pershing Square, Granny D, the 90-year-old activist (real name: Doris Haddock) who made headlines when she walked across the country earlier this year to highlight the need for campaign finance reform, is addressing the crowd. "You are revolutionaries, that's what you are," she says to the thousands gathered for the day's big event, the "Human Needs Not Corporate Greed" march to the Staples Center protest pen, where Rage Against the Machine will play - and conflicts between protestors and police escalate.

If Granny D is right, then the revolution will be in Technicolor and lead by puppets. The event draws some really wonderful props. There's a huge and fairly accurate rendering of Green Party presidential candidate Ralph Nader with a sign across the drawing reading LET ME INTO THE DEBATES. There's a two-headed Bush-Gore puppet riding a huge pink pig signifying corporate influence. There are enormous fake missiles with messages on the side against the mini-Star Wars plan and military spending priorities. The Greens have a decent presence, decked out in green T-shirts and walking in a small green bloc as the march gets going.

California State Senator and legendary 1960s activist Tom Hayden, who's participating in multiple events here this week, takes the stage after Granny D. "Those who are trying to globalize corporate power … trying to corporatize so much of our lives are [being] met with those willing to show that corporate power cannot overcome marching power, cannot overcome protest power, cannot overcome spiritual power," says Hayden.

"I never thought that in my lifetime I'd be blessed to see the coming of another movement with this determination and courage and willingness to take risks," he continues, and then, in an apparent broad swipe at his own party, adds "let's ask the real question. Who are the real puppets? Not the puppets we follow, but the puppets of corporate power downtown."

August 14, 7:45 p.m. Back at the Shadow Convention, Arianna and her acolytes are also taking it to the streets. A bomb scare forces everyone in Patriotic Hall outside. Gore Vidal and Jonathan Kozol, who were to address the crowd, stand bunched together on a makeshift stage that's really the back of a truck. "We are going to proceed with our program as if nothing has happened," quips Arianna Huffington.

"I'm simply filling time here before the bomb goes off," says Vidal. "I'm so happy the last voice you hear will be mine." The Nation's Christopher Hitchens, is introduced and says the real convention unfolding down the street is a joke, part of an election that can't quite be called democratic. "This year, as never before, we seem to have an election with no choice in the choice - everything has been bought and paid for," he says, citing corporate-sponsorship of the upcoming debates. "This whole thing has been arranged for us in advance."

Shortly after Hitchens speaks, the bomb scare is declared over and the crowd heads back inside. But here's how skittish police are this week: Even the presence of the Shadow Convention crowd on the streets drew, for some reason, a cluster of police in riot gear.

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As this was unfolding (and as Hillary Clinton and President Bill Clinton delivered their speeches inside the Staples Center), events outside the Staples Center after the concert by Rage Against the Machine devolved into chaos. According to news reports and broadcast footage of the scene, some protesters pelted police with rocks when the concert, which was peaceful, ended. Police responded by shooting the crowd with rubber pellets. Some of the TV footage showed police butting demonstrators with their batons. It's nothing if not ugly. And it can't bode well for Tuesday's events.

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