photo by kathleen ellison
“Nothing strengthens authority so much as silence.”---Leonardo da Vinci
“A patriot must always be ready to defend his country against his government.”---Edward Abbey
The constant rat-a-tat-tat of redheaded Trumpeckers across the land is becoming a bit of a bother. “We won, you lost,” they advise, “Live with it!” And just to show that they’re really tough guys, these Trumpeckers, the word “bitch” is often added to the pejorative. “Bitch,” as we all know, has finally ascended the ladder in the last decade to become the most overused word in the parlance. Ironically, it is currently most used by actual bitches themselves, many of them allegedly male. Unfortunately, these intellectual derelicts are not the only ones advocating peace. There are perfectly good Democrats and Independents who wonder why we can’t all just get along, why we don’t sit back and “see what the president can do.” These people are not paying attention. We already know what this president can do.
Look at it like this. A child molester, a monster with a long history of abuse moves into the neighborhood. The residents do not sit around waiting to see what the child molester will do. His future deeds are writ in his past, there is no overcoming the basic flaw in his makeup. The neighborhood ramps up, watches the guy like a hawk, perhaps even leaves him the occasional message reminding him of the charms of Burma, the Russian Steppes or the Kamchatka Peninsula.
Donald Trump is not a child molester, you may argue, although that is up for further discussion. But he is certainly a lifetime self-aggrandizing liar, cheat, thief and predator of small businesses, whose services he utilizes but never pays for. Trump’s policy has long been to contest bills in court rather than to pay them, assured that his wily team of attorneys will eventually wear down and/or wipe out the plaintiff. He is, in fact, a serial people abuser. He will never change. What’s the point in sitting around waiting for him to do the obvious?
If anyone had such foolish notions, they should have been set aside by now by Trump’s stellar list of cabinet and other appointees which includes clodhoppers like Ben Carson, the dimmest bulb in the barracks, and ex-Texas Governor Rick (“oops, I forgot my shoes!”) Perry. It’s like Vlad and the Impalers set free on the land. If characters like this are roaming the country shooting out the lights and turning over privies, we might not make it another four years. Resistance is critical. And for those of you who are annoyed or think it’s some kind of breach of etiquette when people assemble in the streets or for the others who are so certain “it does no good,” consider the following:
photo by kathleen ellison
Marching To Pretoria
On the sixth of May, 1867, the British government banned a public demonstration in Hyde Park, claiming it would interfere with the enjoyment of the park by the people. The would-be demonstration was sponsored by the Reform League, which sought to reform the vote to include at least some of the English working class. The government called in their Hussars, drafted thousands of special constables and had Woolrich Arsenal working overtime making staves and pikes. All to no avail. Author Paul Foot put it this way:
“There were so many demonstrators, so many gates at the park, so many separate meetings planned there. The troops, the police and the special constables kept their distance. Vast crowds flocked into the park through all the entrances. This was the first time that any political organisation representing the working class had openly and successfully defied the law of their masters, and the effect on the masters was catastrophic.”
Two weeks later, the proposed electoral reform bill was amended and the number of people enfranchised was quadrupled. The power of vast numbers on the muscle was shocking, nay terrifying to the British government which wisely decided that accomodations could be made.
Although the history of the Suffragette movement often focuses on dramatic acts by prominent individuals, the girls also held monster demonstrations. The first and largest was in 1908. The London Times said 750,000 people attended. Historians credit that show of force with popularizing the movement by bringing in new people and inspiring them at a time when they could see for themselves how broad the support was for a cause they were beginning to identify with. Change came just a few years later at the end of World War 1 in 1918 when legislation gave approximately 8.4 million women the vote. Women were properly enfranchised in Britain in 1928.
On International Women’s Day in 1917 Russia, a strike wave started with a demonstration. The protest was started by women, mainly factory workers. As one participant explained, “The idea of going into the streets had long been ripening among the workers; at that moment, nobody imagined where it would lead.” Leon Trotsky described the action:
“A mass of women, not all of them workers, flocked to the municipal Dama demanding bread. It was like demanding milk from a he-goat. Red banners appeared in different parts of the city, and inscriptions on them showed that the workers wanted bread, but neither autocracy nor war. Women’s Day passed successfully, with enthusiasm and without victims. But what it concealed in itself, no one had guessed even by nightfall.”
Next day, St. Petersburg was paralyzed by a strike wave and continuous street demonstrations. Three days later, the Tsar was forced to abdicate. The revolutionary cycle of 1917 had begun. See what happens when you stir up a mess of nasty women?
In Cairo, Egypt, March 17, 1919, more than 10,000 teachers, students, lawyers, workers and government employees responded to the British arrest of Egyptian leaders by setting off for Al Azhar in Cairo in Egypt’s biggest demonstration. When they found their way to Abdin Palace, they were joined by thousands more who ignored British roadblocks and bans. Taking their lead from the Cairo hijinks, demonstrators across the country rose up with strikes and occupations in a national movement against British rule which reverberated around the colonial world.
The British responded with violence. By the Summer, more than 800 Egyptians had been killed. Too little, too late. The movement was too strong to be repressed and in 1922 the British granted Egypt nominal independence.
Initial resistance in all of the above cases often sought a simple redress of grievances before exploding into a tidal wave of revolution. Republicans who try to scoff off the Women’s March on Washington (AND Los Angeles AND Oakland AND Denver AND Boston AND Austin AND Mayberry) should not be so foolish as to think this first peaceful display of strength is harmless. These will not be the last of the marches and the intensity will increase. Maybe we’ll even get rid of the goddam Tsar some day.
photo by kathleen ellison
Freedom Road And Vietnam
Martin Luther King Jr. was a tough customer even though he insisted on nonviolence during all his confrontations with white supremacists. While some younger black hotshots were forming more aggressive organizations to advance their case, King and his Southern Christian Leadership Conference made change happen with their March, 1964 march from Selma, Alabama to the capitol at Montgomery, demanding black voter enfranchisement. Two earlier attempts had been distrupted by Alabama state troopers wielding whips, nightsticks and tear gas, forcing President Lyndon Johnson to federalize the Alabama National Guard and send in U.S. Army troops for the March 21 affair. Some 2000 people set out on that date, walking 12 miles a day and sleeping in fields along the way. They reached Montgomery on March 25 and were met by 50,000 enthusiastic supporters, black and white. The massive wave gathered in front of the state capitol to hear King and other speakers, notably including Ralph Bunche, winner of the 1950 Nobel Peace Prize. “No tide of racism can stop us!” King proclaimed from the capitol steps. Sometimes it takes a great notion.
On October 21, 1967 (perhaps more famous as the one-month anniversary of the Subterranean Circus in Gainesville, Florida), 100,000 people gathered at the Lincoln Memorial to protest the soul-sapping Vietnam War, then in its third sad year. A smaller group of 30,000 continued on to the Pentagon later that night. After a brutal confrontation with soldiers and U.S. Marshals, hundreds of demonstrators were arrested, including author Norman Mailer, who chronicled the events in his book, “The Armies of the Night,” published the following year to wide acclaim. Anti-war marches commenced in virtually every corner of the country and by February of 1968 only 35% of the population approved of President Johnson’s handling of the war, a fact which led to his political demise and failure to achieve a second full term as president.
So please, don’t tell us marches don’t matter. Sometimes it takes awhile to get the point across to a less-than-brilliant American public, but nobody said it would be easy. The girls who marched last weekend, many of them nervous at their initial acts of rebellion, are not going away anytime soon. Most of them went home and planned future escapades. They will be joined by all manner and make of allies intent on the same goals. We thank them all. We appreciate their ardor. And now we realize, once and for all, girls do not just want to have fun. Girls just want to kick ass.
Setting The Scene
Our niece, Kathleen Ellison (pictured) is currently a dermatology resident at a Washington hospital. This is her second D.C. go-‘round. In her calloused youth, she spent months there as a Senate page. We asked Kathleen to paint the picture. What follows is her description of the day.
When I moved back to D.C. last summer, I was excited about my first Election Day in the nation’s capital. The White House is about a mile down my street, and on early mornings and clear nights, I can spot it while standing outside my apartment. Since Election Day, the view has not been quite the same. I was confused and disappointed in those who voted for Trump even if they stated they didn’t share his views; somehow, in 2016, spewing homophobia, inciting xenophobia, bragging about sexual assault and mocking the disabled isn’t a deal-breaker in the voting booth for half the voters in America.
I planned to stay home on Inauguration Day, though I ended up walking with a friend to the lively neighborhood of Adams Morgan on Friday evening. There we saw busloads of women in homemade crocheted pink hats, as my friend put it, “descending onto Washington.” They were distributing hats to fellow marchers and decorating signs for the upcoming march. Thousands of women waited in line for up to four hours at a pop-up feminist store called The Outrage to purchase Nasty-Woman-themed clothing and posters to benefit Planned Parenthood (www.the-outrage.com). Local shops gave out free pizza and water to women waiting in that line. Despite the inaugural events that had taken place earlier that afternoon, women gathered and shared stories and encouragement.
On Saturday morning, my friend and I arrived at the Women’s March rally and were overwhelmed by the sheer number of people there. Generations of women, fathers with daughters, groups of friends, elderly in wheelchairs. We admired witty homemade posters as we made our way toward the stage. We heard Gloria Steinem say that she had never seen a sight like this in all her years of feminist action.
The atmosphere was hopeful and the excitement was tangible. Women cheered each other on, even breaking out in song as various activists, artists and elected officials took the stage. Frustrations grew when the march was delayed for over an hour. We later found out that it only seemed to be delayed because the crowd was so large that it took time for our section to move. Chants of “This is what democracy looks like!” and “No hate, no fear, refugees are welcome here!” and even “We want a leader, not a creepy tweeter!” roared across the Mall and down Pennsylvania Avenue.
If anything can counteract the dismal inaugural address, it is millions of organized marches delightfully and peacefully protesting across the world. I met women who had marched for civil rights alongside their daughters, each vowing to continue the struggle toward equality. I saw women saving the phone numbers of elected officials and setting daily alarms to remind themselves to call and make their voices heard. And I saw thousands of marchers leave their signs on the White House gates and fences—a wall of messages that could not be ignored. If there is a silver lining to the 2016 presidential election, it is that people have been jolted from a place of complacency to one of activism. I can only hope the movement will continue with the same enthusiasm in the coming months as it did last weekend. And while I do not look down the street at the White House with the same admiration as I previously did, I feel fortunate to live in D.C. When there is another inevitable protest to fight for equality and dignity, I will be ready to march again.
Signs Of The Revolution
Carolyn Holmes is a Venice, Florida pal of The Flying Pie. She’s taken many a trip on a sailing ship but this was her first protest march. Her comments:
The lady to my left is my old sorority sister, Marti Cox, who got me started on going to Washington. Marti was one of the beauties of the 1966 or 1967 UF yearbook. We stayed with some great folks, Kim and Jim O’Malley, who opened up their home to several of us marchers. Amazing people to take that on. The march was invigorating and the people were wonderful to talk with. Not a scary experience at all. Everyone we ran into was kind and I was very glad I made it. While I was in the airport last night, a woman told me a march had been scheduled for April 15 relative to Trump’s hidden tax returns. As for the photos, the day was dreary weatherwise and I was mainly at armpit level so I did the best I could. They follow below.
Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch….
Colorado veterinarian Jo Jones was headed for Washington. Then, she got a look at the inflated price of plane tickets and opted for the Denver alternative. The photos below her commentary are those of Jo and her sympathetic husband, Rusty.
My husband and I had planned on going to the D.C. march but when it was clear that wasn’t going to happen, we headed to the sister march in Denver. When we arrived at the Civic Center, the electricity in the air and the sheer number of people made it clear that this was an important event. We waited for about an hour for the march to actually start. During that time, we were able to talk to people of all ages, colors and backgrounds—all there because they were horrified by the outcome of the presidential election. We all wanted and needed to speak out for what is right as well as come together with likeminded people. The cameraderie and shared purpose was palpable. The creativity of the signs was more than amazing. It became a bit of a game to point out those that were unique, funny or touching. At one point, we marched around a corner and on the sidewalk sat six disabled adults and children in wheelchairs, each holding a sign that said “Proud Disabled American.” I cried. After marching for about an hour, we all came back to the park and listened to many speakers who were part of the event. I can honestly say that January 21, 2017 was the first day since the election that I felt more hope than anxiety and was more fired up than defeated. I think this is the beginning of something very big. Long live The Resistance!
Long live The Resistance, indeed. That’s not all, folks….
