-Caveat Lector-

Fear and Furs

<http://www.laweekly.com/ink/01/10/news-ehrenreich.shtml>

The pomp and protests of W.'s stolen inauguration

by Ben Ehrenreich
Jan. 26 - Feb. 1, 200

It was at his first inaugural address in the early years of the Great
Depression that Franklin Delano Roosevelt famously warned that fear was the
nation's greatest danger  "nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror." In
these more prosperous times, fear itself was the dominant note at George W.
Bush's tainted inauguration in Washington, D.C., last weekend  fear and
furs, lots of furs, mink after mink after mink, the lustrous hides of
entire generations of rodents. In the most heavily guarded inaugural
celebration in American history, more than 7,000 officers from more than a
dozen law-enforcement agencies flooded the city to ensure that Bush  and
his legions of tuxedoed and mink-wrapped supporters  could enjoy their $40
million corporate-sponsored victory party in royal style.
As thousands of demonstrators from widely disparate backgrounds trooped
through the cold and rain-soaked streets to voice their outrage, National
Guardsmen lurked nearby, outfitted for urban combat; armored cars and a
70-man FBI SWAT team waited out of sight. Police set up 10 checkpoints
through which the general public  including tens of thousands of
parade-goers as well as protesters  had to pass to get to the inaugural
parade route. All bags, even umbrellas, were searched at the checkpoints.
Following a lawsuit brought by protest organizers, U.S.  District Judge
Gladys Kessler grudgingly approved the security plan despite "very, very
deep concerns." She warned, "The very term 'checkpoint' has what I would
call an odious connotation of repression . . . Every citizen has the
freedom to walk the streets of this land."
Agreeing with Kessler, protesters took over the streets of the capital for
the day on Saturday, cheerfully braving the assaults of both the weather
and the police, defying aggressive attempts to contain them, charging
through one of the security checkpoints and raining on the presidential
parade with loud and visible dissent. Along with cheers from onlookers in
cashmere overcoats and furs, the executive limousine was greeted with great
choruses of boos, with nearly as many protest signs as black umbrellas, and
at one point with a skillfully lobbed orange.
By the end of the day, Bush had broken into the White House, with the
blessings of the Supreme Court; police had arrested about 10 protesters on
charges ranging from disorderly conduct to felony assault on a police officer.
Hours before Bush was sworn in on the Capitol steps, protesters were
converging throughout downtown Washington. The International Action Center
(IAC), leading a call to "Stop the Death Machine" and protesting a range of
issues from capital punishment to police brutality to corporate
globalization, staked out the Pennsylvania Avenue parade route four hours
before the procession was scheduled to begin. The Justice Action Movement,
a coalition of progressive groups, and the Million Voter March, composed
largely of more centrist Democrats angry about the election debacle and
Bush's far-right cabinet appointees, rallied at Dupont Circle before
heading to Pennsylvania Avenue.  Several hundred New Black Panthers marched
to declare a "Day of Outrage" at the disenfranchisement of African-American
voters in Florida. Reverend Al Sharpton led over 1,000 in a "Shadow
Inauguration" at Stanton Park, swearing: "We've taken an oath today that we
will turn this nation around, and it'll take more than senior Bush or
little junior Bush to turn us around." The Revolutionary Anti-Authoritarian
Bloc, better known as the Black Bloc, convened at Franklin Square, yards
away from the spot where anarchist protesters were clubbed and tear-gassed
by D.C. police during last April's rallies against the International
Monetary Fund.
The day's first confrontation with police took place not long after the
latter group, about 500 anarchists wearing black bandannas and hooded
sweatshirts, joined by the odd mainstream Gore supporter, began marching at
10 a.m. to chants of "Who is the enemy? The state is the enemy!" By 11 a.m.
they had picked up an escort of about two dozen cops on foot at the rear of
the march. This happened after an hour of parading through the streets,
waving signs (a sampling of messages: "No Aid to Israeli Apartheid,"
"Protect the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge," "End the Racist Death
Penalty," "Genetic Engineering: What Are You Doing to Our Food?" "The Real
Elections Are in the Streets"), occasionally targeting the property of
their adversaries with a brick (one was thrown at the window of an Armed
Forces Recruitment Center  it missed) or can of spray paint (the facade of
the Washington Post building was tagged with circled A, as the crowd yelled
"Fuck Corporate Media!"), dragging newspaper boxes into the street to slow
the police cars trailing them.
As the group turned the corner at 14th and L streets, just a block from its
starting place at Franklin Square, police charged the crowd without
warning, batons swinging. Several protesters  and an AP photographer  were
thrown to the ground, some were beaten. Matt Even, a 24-year-old Washington
resident, was bludgeoned with a baton as he turned to run from the
advancing police. Knocked briefly unconscious and bleeding badly from the
head, he was pulled to safety by friends. (Even was soon back on his feet,
his head hastily bandaged: "It looks like it's going to need stitches but I
don't want to leave the protest," he said two hours later.) More police
appeared from the opposite direction and quickly lined up, boxing in about
200 people on the sidewalk at 14th and K. That group dwindled slightly when
about 50 pushed through police lines and fled. One young man was tackled
and arrested, his shirt torn off and his face bruised and bleeding.
The stage seemed to be set for the now-familiar police tactic of mass
arrests, used both in D.C. last April and during the Democratic National
Convention in Los Angeles. Police began pulling journalists, at times
forcefully, from the group, and pushed all other protesters, who were
gathering in the surrounding intersection, onto the sidewalks, where they
stood angrily waiting for buses to arrive to haul off their captured
companions. D.C. Metropolitan Police Chief Terrance W. Gainer, always eager
for a photo op (in April he could be seen wrestling teenage protesters to
the ground himself), was at the scene, but refused comment when asked why
his officers had charged the crowd.
Within a few minutes and apparently without any foreknowledge of what they
were walking into, a band of several thousand demonstrators, filling at
least two blocks  the JAM and Million Voter March groups, who, marching
from Dupont Circle, according to one protest organizer, "just happened to
walk up on the mass arrest"  arrived from the north on 14th Street and
began chanting, "Let them go!" Overwhelmed by the sheer number of
protesters, the police dissolved the line separating the captive anarchists
from the rest of the crowd. After a few minutes of tense confrontation,
during which officers tried with limited success to keep demonstrators on
the sidewalks, the entire crowd marched off, joining forces on K Street and
chanting triumphantly, "The people united, will never be defeated!" A few
miles away, George W. Bush pontificated about courage and compassion and
the duties of citizens to be neither spectators nor subjects.
Elated by its victory and unexpected release, Black Bloc marched behind a
banner reading "Whoever They Voted For, We Are Ungovernable," heading for
the parade route, joined now on all sides by thousands of others, including
five wearing papier mâché caribou heads in solidarity with Alaskan
wildlife, and a gentleman from Boston, his heading poking through a hole in
an enormous butterfly ballot, who asked to be called Chad. At one point two
anxious-looking Bushite couples en route to the parade found themselves in
the midst of the crowd. One black-garbed marcher politely offered a
pamphlet to one man, who ignored his offer, staring stubbornly ahead as if
being pestered by a persistent panhandler. At the same time, another
protester spray-painted an anarchist "A" on the back of his wife's fur coat
and slipped away unnoticed.
Chanting "Whose Streets? Our Streets!" the crowd stormed through a
checkpoint at Seventh and Pennsylvania with little resistance from police,
filling the Navy Memorial plaza, across the street from the imposing
Corinthian-columned National Archives building. Two lines of riot police
closed in behind them, but soon filed off in rigid formation.
Protesters bid them adieu with a serenade of the Mickey Mouse Club theme.
For the next hour and a half, the crowd milled about in the frigid rain,
teenage protesters drummed on overturned trash bins, sandal-clad
environmentalists mingled with Boy Scouts and Secret Service agents,
Radical Cheerleaders danced beside bleachers brimming with blanketed
Republican ticket holders in yellow slickers and, inevitably, furs.
The police action did not begin again until three protesters climbed the
8-foot cement base of one of the plaza's two enormous flagpoles, unmooring
strings of naval banners and, to wild applause, raising the black flag of
anarchism. The cheers had not died down before about six Park Police
officers in full riot gear, eager to protect our military emblems from
insult, surrounded the flagpole, reaching up to grab at the anarchists'
ankles. One by one, the three protesters dove over the officers and into
the arms of the waiting crowd.  Police, now guarding an empty flagpole,
charged the crowd, which successfully pushed them back into the street.
In the midst of the melee, two anarchists earnestly debated religion with a
middle-aged man clutching a Bible and a sign reading, "Pray for Revival,"
but even that island of calm disappeared when police reinforcements
arrived, tackling demonstrators, trying to drag their prey back to police
lines as protesters struggled to rescue their friends. Two undercover cops,
who had been posing as parade-goers, began grabbing randomly at people, one
of them spraying protesters in the face with a small canister of either
pepper spray or Mace.  Both were immediately mobbed by the crowd, and had
to be pulled to safety by uniformed officers in riot gear. Protesters
linked arms and, chanting "Shame! Shame!," pushed even the riot police back
into Pennsylvania Avenue. To shouts of "Whose country? Our country!," an
upside-down American flag was raised beside the black flag. Police made no
further efforts to take them down.
By now it was well after 2 p.m., and the parade had started a mile or so to
the east. While Black Bloc marched behind the bleachers, chanting, "What do
we want? Class war! When do we want it? Now!" to an audience of fur-clad
Bush supporters smiling nervously and waving miniature Texan flags,
protesters spread throughout the parade route had already begun to jeer the
presidential escort. By the time Bush's limo reached the Navy Memorial
plaza, another scuffle had broken out between police and
activists.  Apparently believing he had seen a knife, a plainclothes
officer tackled a protester, who was quickly aided by the crowd. The riot
cops moved in once more and, just as the plaza again turned into a mosh
pit, with protesters and police alike pushing and swinging, the
presidential motorcade drove by, Secret Service agents jogging beside it.
Despite the tumult, the cry went up: "Fuck you, George Bush!" Someone
hurled an orange, and a tennis ball bounced off the limousine's shiny black
roof.
Linking arms again and shouting, "Cops off the sidewalk!," protesters once
more successfully pushed the police back into Pennsylvania Avenue. The
parade had paused to let the Secret Service scope out a much larger crowd
of protesters several blocks down, where the International Action Center
had gathered (Bush's limo eventually sped by, his Secret Service escort
breaking into a sprint to keep up), and a battalion of mounted police had
paused in front of the Navy Memorial. After one last rousing chant  "Get
those animals off of those horses!"  their point made, uninterested in
standing in the rain any longer to watch the miles of marching bands,
floats and bayonet-wielding troops file by, the crowd broke up and spread
out into the downtown streets, heading for the metro, the bus station, any
place dry and warm.
Within a few hours CNN and the networks would be drooling over the "pomp
and pageantry" of the day's events, neglecting for the most part to carry
their alliteration out to its logical conclusion with more than a cursory
mention of the word protest. The protests, the largest at least since
Nixon's inauguration, would soon be forgotten, the metros teeming with
Republicans in formalwear on their way to eight inaugural balls, the
streets clogged with herds of limousines, coughing out their mink-swaddled
contents, whose tight, triumphant grins out-glowed even their pearls.

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