On Saturday, Sisk and I attended the "Who is Accountable?" town hall meeting at the New York Society for Ethical Culture. I'd barely slept on Thursday night, and we'd been up all night Friday working on the new show -- which finally has a title, incidentally. By noon we were so tired that just dragging ourselves to 64th Street felt like a major demonstration of political commitment. When we got there, pretty early, a crowd had already gathered at Ethical Culture, using complementary copies of The Nation to fan themselves in the smoldering heat. I was happy to be there, but I was so incoherent with exhaustion that when I saw Bob Fertik in the lobby, the best thing I could think of to say was, "Is everything ready?" Bob looked appropriately confused by this question, but assured me that everything was indeed ready, and that they'd opened the house early so people could get into the air conditioning.
It was air conditioning of paltry force, though, and I sat in the wooden pew watching beads of sweat land on my complementary copy of The Nation. I remembered accounts I'd read of the scorching summer of 1776 in Philadelphia. The men of the Second Continental Congress, in addressing the question of Independence, debated, argued, resolved, abstained, gave up, withdrew, compromised, and whacked away at one another with walking sticks, in a historically hot summer. And they wore heavy coats and shirts and tights and wigs. Clearly, they were a little demented. Anyway, I figured that if Jefferson, Adams, and Franklin wandered into the Society for Ethical Culture on Saturday, they wouldn't be complaining. I resolved to ponder the resonance of our cause and theirs, and tough it out.
I like these events as much for the communal chatter as the featured presentations. Waiting for the program to begin, Sisk and I talked to the people sitting around us, signed a few petitions, and enthusiastically accepted fliers promoting the September 24 March on Washington, New Yorkers for Verified Voting, and The World Can't Wait. We told people about the new show, including the title, and they really seemed to like it. I think it's a good title.
Sitting in front of us was a guy whose name escapes me. I should have written it down, and I probably would have if I hadn't been engaged in such an epic struggle with my eyelids. Anyway, in keeping with my heat-induced 1776 fantasy, we'll call him Richard Henry Lee.
Richard Henry Lee told us that he was a lifelong resident of the Great State of New Jersey, a Vietnam veteran (his tee-shirt said so, too), and a retired firefighter. He said he had two kids in college, and had taken a job "baby-sitting" power generators. He was a studied and perceptive follower of current events, and he spoke eloquently about the various differences and similarities between our time and the sixties. "You're considered a traitor if you question the government," he said. "I'm a veteran, a firefighter...I've got people telling me I shouldn't question my government because it's unpatriotic."
"They should just consider the fact that you're doing it," I said. "I mean, you're anything but an unpatriotic traitor; your life is a testament to that. So if you're questioning the government..."
Pretty soon we were distracted by a spontaneous burst of wild applause from much of the crowd. What's going on? As it turned out, the great Randi Rhodes had just walked across stage right, on her way backstage. She acknowledged the applause with a wave and disappeared, and pretty soon the meeting began.
Bob Fertik strode meaningfully to the podium and made some opening remarks. First he marveled at the turnout, which was magnificent. The 820-seat auditorium was completely full, and on his blog Bob noted that "we sadly had to turn several hundred more people away." He said he was especially impressed considering what a beautiful summer day it was. "I'm sure you could all think of better things to do," he told the audience, which instantly responded with hearty cries of "Nooooooooo!" It was a fantastic moment. Hundreds of people gathered together on a perfect summer day, right across the street from Central Park, unanimously proclaiming that there was no better thing to do than reclaim our democracy from the treasonous Bush regime.
Visibly moved by this, Bob laughed appreciatively and adjusted his glasses. "Well!" he said. "Then, you've come to the right place!" The remainder of his short speech was interrupted so often by applause that he had to ask the audience to please refrain from applauding each sponsor on the list, as time was limited.
The legendary New York and national politician Elizabeth Holtzman spoke first, and forcefully made the case that George W. Bush should, and can, be impeached and removed from office. But, she explained, there are effective and ineffective ways of going about it. Speaking from the credible position of her work in the House Judiciary Committee during Watergate, she suggested that the regime's undoing lay more in the language of the law than in the broad outrage of the crimes themselves. "I was very proud to be the author of a resolution that sought to impeach Richard Nixon for the bombing of Cambodia," she told us. "The House Judiciary Committee did not approve that resolution." It was "a cautionary tale." She reminded us that "in January 1973, nobody in America -- nobody -- believed that the Watergate high crimes and misdemeanors would reach into the Oval Office." That was good to hear. Don't be deterred if impeachment seems unlikely.
Now speaking from the credible position of her participation in the Nazi and Japanese Imperial War Criminal Records Interagency Working Group, she stressed the importance of the little-discussed War Crimes Act of 1996, passed by Congress and signed into law by President Clinton. Seeking to adopt laws "for full compliance with...an international torture statute, and an international torture treaty, and the Geneva Conventions," Congress passed "a statute making it a U.S. crime to engage in torture." Two years later, the War Crimes Act was law. "Basically," Holtzman said, "it makes grave breaches of the Geneva Conventions a federal crime, just like kidnapping, or interstate burglary, or child pornography. It is a federal crime.
"And interestingly," she said with an ironic smile, "there's a death penalty."
"Title 18 > Part I > Chapter 118 > § 2441. War crimes.
"(a) Offense. -- Whoever, whether inside or outside the United States, commits a war crime, in any of the circumstances described in subsection (b), shall be fined under this title or imprisoned for life or any term of years, or both, and if death results to the victim, shall also be subject to the penalty of death.
"(b) Circumstances. -- The circumstances referred to in subsection (a) are that the person committing such war crime or the victim of such war crime is a member of the Armed Forces of the United States or a national of the United States (as defined in section 101 of the Immigration and Nationality Act).
"(c) Definition. -- As used in this section the term 'war crime' means any conduct --
"(1) defined as a grave breach in any of the international conventions signed at Geneva 12 August 1949, or any protocol to such convention to which the United States is a party;
"(2) prohibited by Article 23, 25, 27, or 28 of the Annex to the Hague Convention IV, Respecting the Laws and Customs of War on Land, signed 18 October 1907;
"(3) which constitutes a violation of common Article 3 of the international conventions signed at Geneva, 12 August 1949, or any protocol to such convention to which the United States is a party and which deals with non-international armed conflict; or
"(4) of a person who, in relation to an armed conflict and contrary to the provisions of the Protocol on Prohibitions or Restrictions on the Use of Mines, Booby-Traps and Other Devices as amended at Geneva on 3 May 1996 (Protocol II as amended on 3 May 1996), when the United States is a party to such Protocol, willfully kills or causes serious injury to civilians." |
"Now, I'm not for the death penalty," Liz Holtzman added. A piercing nasal voice behind me announced, "Yeah, neither am I," in a sarcastic sort of how-could-you-bring-that-up way. It was the first of countless inane interjections from one pew back. Later on, whenever anyone said something he agreed with, the guy behind me shouted, "Exactly! Exactly!" But his tone implied: "I'm the only one who knows that!" I didn't even see the guy, but in keeping with precedent we'll call him Samuel Chase.
The War Crimes Act, Holtzman concluded, "means that if any high level official violates the War Crimes Act, and somebody died, they can be prosecuted...there is no statute of limitations." She said that in accordance with a declassified 2002 memo by Alberto Gonzales, the Bush administration chose to "opt out" of the War Crimes Act during the invasion of Afghanistan. However, they did not opt out prior to invading Iraq.
Holtzman mused on the importance of seeking information. Even she, a trailblazing congresswoman of historic proportions, heard mention of the War Crimes Act and "had to Google it." Wow, thought everyone in the room, that's what I'm gonna do! (When I Googled it, I found this Democracy Now! interview with Holtzman, in which she makes many of the same points she made at Saturday's meeting.)
We know that George W. Bush's presidential ambitions emerged from a seething desire for vengeance. It tormented him that his father hadn't been re-elected; Gaily Sheehy reported that little Bush said, during his gubernatorial campaign, "I'm not running against her [incumbent Governor Ann Richards]. I'm running against the guy in the White House." According to Sheehy, he "had to avenge his father's humiliation in losing to Bill Clinton. [Fort Worth Star-Telegram reporter Randy] Galloway remembers, 'The way he said it was like a blood oath.'" (See "The Accidental Candidate," Vanity Fair, October 2000; and Mark Crispin Miller, The Bush Dyslexicon, p. 117.) Would it not be beautiful for Bush's Achilles heel to be a humanitarian act signed into law by Bill Clinton?
Exhausted, perspired, and applauding, I reflected on this poetic justice. It brought me back into my 1776 hallucination. I thought about how useful the Internet would have been to those guys. The Declaration of Independence was first read publicly in Manhattan at Bowling Green on July 9. The colonies had declared themselves a nation, independent from what had been their mother country, and in the nation's capital city, they didn't find out about it for five days. Presumably, many Americans didn't realize they were Americans until well into the bloody war that was fought to establish this. At Bowling Green, the assembled colonists -- Americans -- responded to the Declaration by toppling the park's central statue of King George III. The statue was melted down and made into musket balls, which were subsequently fired at British troops. It's just like Clinton signing the War Crimes Act, and the colonists of an occupied democracy firing it at Bush!
It's a little like that. I was really tired.
The next speaker was the outspoken Representative Maurice Hinchey (D-New York), a dynamic and convincing orator who's consistently criticized the administration for its myriad offenses. Hinchey's speech was thinner on substance than Holtzman's, but he excited the crowd with articulate expressions of our collective outrage. To the administration's claim that Saddam had weapons, he exclaimed, "They knew what they were talking about! They had the receipts!" At this point, Samuel Chase had a very loud exactly spasm: "EXACTLY! EXACTLY! EXACTLY!" His loved ones should talk to him, I thought. In front of me, Richard Henry Lee turned to see the face belonging to the voice, but I couldn't bring myself to look.
Hinchey's concluding point, which nicely expanded Holtzman's discussion of the realities of impeachment proceedings, was that "the election of 2006 is one of the most important elections in the history of our country." I should say that some of Hinchey's finest moments were later, during the brief Q&A, when he talked about the media, and his Future of American Media Caucus. "It is the purpose and the objective of the right wing in this country," he said, "to destroy the integrity of the American media." He also reminded us that according to the Supreme Court, a "diverse and antagonistic media" is essential to a free press. "You cannot have one voice," Hinchey said. "You need a multiplicity of voices."
The crowd was full of love in its enthusiastic reception of Fertik, Holtzman, and Hinchey, but inevitably Randi Rhodes was the audience favorite. Just as she does on the air for an astounding twenty hours every week, she free-associated her way up one rhetorical mountain after another. She always reaches the summit with a well-demonstrated conclusion, and often a perfect zinger. I really think Randi Rhodes is one of the great voices of liberal America, at the same time erudite and accessible. Her gift for extemporaneous narrative leans heavily on her thorough knowledge of the subject matter. Rhodes' speech on Saturday was loose, quiet, and plaintive, incorporating signature bits (on Abu Ghraib: "Leave it open, we'll need it!") with new points. "If Rove is Bush's brain, and he loses Rove," she reasoned, "then he has no heart and no brain." After some speculation about various members of the administration and which organs they might represent in Bush's anatomy, she resoundingly concluded, "So, they all have to go at the same time," and won the mightiest applause of the afternoon.
As Rhodes has said many times, politicians are like rock stars to her, and her deep reverence for Holtzman and Hinchey was apparent in her remarks and in her demeanor. Given the honor of their company, and the semi-formality of the presentation, she never approached the level of manic soliloquy that often enlivens her broadcasts. Her most piercing moment was when she responded to Bush's contention that "the terrorists" have "chosen to take their stand" in Iraq: "No, Mr. President, you have made your stand in Iraq!" I thought about Sisk's conversation with Randi (audio and explanation here), when she told her about the day we went to buy a Dick Cheney mask for City Under Siege! and the woman at the store had no idea who Dick Cheney was. I thought that Randi Rhodes would probably really like our upcoming show, which finally has a title. I thought she would particularly like the title, which is great.
So was the town hall meeting, and we were glad we'd resisted sleep and gotten ourselves there. The only person in the room who didn't seem pleased with it was Samuel Chase, who scornfully interrupted Bob Fertik's closing remarks by shrieking disgustedly that "Nobody said stop the war and bring the troops home!" With this outburst, Samuel Chase showered the back of my neck with saliva. Bob had been in the middle of explaining which groups would convene following the meeting, and he looked at Samuel Chase and continued, pointedly, "-- these groups of people who want to stop the war and bring the troops home."
It's important to participate in events like this, regardless of how hot and tired you may be, and it was great to know that people all over the country were having similar meetings (see some detailed reports from afterdowningstreet.org). Did you participate in an event in your town on Saturday? Were you at the one in New York? Please share some highlights, or post a link to your blog if you wrote about it. Even the atrocity of the regime's crimes is not as energizing a force as realizing the scope of the participation.

P.S. The title of the new show is:

I'll have more details soon.