David Corn writes The Loyal Opposition twice a month for TomPaine.com. Corn is also the Washington editor of The Nation and is the author of The Lies of George W. Bush: Mastering the Politics of Deception (Crown Publishers).
Was it 100,000? Or 150,000? Or 227,000? Or 301,294 and three dogs?
That's one reason I'm a bit down on come-to-Washington demonstrations. Following the gathering, the debate often focuses on the body count. And organizers, I suspect, usually adopt the tactic of the military in exaggerating both the number and its meaning. So after the protesters leave town, what remains? A dispute more than a debate. Which is what happened following the anti-war rally that occurred this past Saturday.
Three decades after Vietnam, perhaps it's time to rethink the utility of mass demonstrations. Back in the 1960s, such events had the power of novelty. Never before had so many citizens protested a war. That was news. And in the days before daily polling that is regurgitated by cable news, newspapers and blogs, these demonstrations were necessary signs that something was happening here—or there. But today, anyone who bothers to read newspapers knows that a majority of Americans believe the war in Iraq was a mistake. Thus, the news footage of an anti-war demonstration carries less impact.
What does it really tell us that 178,342 people gathered on a weekend in Washington (when most members of Congress are out of town) to declare their opposition to Bush's misadventure in Iraq or that several thousand remained in town to lobby on a Monday (when most members of Congress are out of town) or that a few others were arrested at the White House? The blunt retort is that 279.8 million Americans did none of this and that 28 million Americans watched Desperate Housewives that same weekend. And if most of these dissenters came from blue states—or blue pockets in red states—why should the Republicans running and supporting the war fret about them?
I realize that for some advocates of people-power and mass movements, questioning the value of an event like the recent protest is sacrilegious. But those seeking to change policies—let alone end a war—must clearly evaluate tactics. It takes time and money to organize a national rally in Washington. Is that the best use of resources? Is that the most effective way of sending a message, especially when that message has to be carried by members of the media who may or may not accurately represent the message or devote much attention to it? (The national edition of The New York Times covered the recent rally in a few short paragraphs on the inside.) And who is the target for the message? Gone-for-the-weekend legislators, many of whom can say, they ain't my voters? The we-don't-give-a-damn White House?
In my nearly two decades in Washington, I recall one mass demonstration that seemed to have made a difference. That was the 1989 march for reproductive rights. At the time—like now—abortion rights were under assault, and there was a sense, fair or not, that those who had fought for these rights had become complacent. This demonstration—attended by several hundred thousands—showed that the folks in favor of abortion rights were not asleep. It was a necessary "we're still here!" shout. (The nuclear freeze march held in New York City in 1982 is another example of an effective demonstration. A half a million people rallying for arms control? That was news.)
If the organizers of Saturday's anti-war march could have imported a million Americans into the nation's capital, perhaps that would have signaled that the national unease with the war is more pointed and passionate than most people assume. Why do I say a million? Granted, this is arbitrary. But body counts do seem to matter if they fall on one extreme or the other. Yet 100,000 to 200,000 doesn’t register on the oh-my-goodness scale. After all, how big would the crowd have been had the Rolling Stones given a free concert on the Mall? (Perhaps they could perform their new acerbic, anti-war song, "Sweet Neo Con.") And anyone who opposes the war has to wonder if the lead organizing role in this demonstration played by International ANSWER—a spin-off of the Workers World Party, which has supported Kim Il Jong, Slobodan Milosevic and Saddam Hussein—has caused groups and people against the war to be less enthusiastic about joining its parade. (In a recent issue of The Nation , Corey Robin, a teacher at Brooklyn College, chided anti-war liberals for being put off by International ANSWER, which Robin said merely has "failed to denounce Saddam's regime." Why, Robin asked, should "the words" of International ANSWER's "leftists deprive the anti-war movement" of liberals' support? But I would ask this: if George W. Bush attended a 'defend America rally' organized by Christian white supremacists, would Robin not make hay out of that? I, for one, do not want to march behind supporters of tyrants.)
I know that many people who attend demonstrations say that they are inspired by the occasion and that it is important for them to assemble with other like-minded citizens, to speak up, to be counted (literally and figuratively). I have no doubt that an anti-war rally can be a morale-booster. But at what cost? Demonstrations, as noted above, consume money and time, and there are opportunity costs. What else might be done with this energy?
Does bringing 100,000 to 200,000 people to Washington inconvenience the war's managers or send a message that must be heeded? (The crowd in charge in Washington doesn't heed much) But all politicians—except second-term presidents—do worry about re-election. And some of them might—just might—be concerned if they believed their position on the war was not in sync with that of most of their constituents. The key here is "constituents." Consequently, applying pressure at home in a targeted fashion has more potential bang than trying to apply wide pressure in Washington. As an alternative to a mass rally in the shadow of an unoccupied Capitol, could the anti-war movement plot a strategy of zeroing in on a number of representatives and senators and attempt to convince them that they might have to pay the ultimate price for supporting the war?
I ask that knowing this would not be easy. Most congressional districts are gerrymandered to afford the incumbent political protection. Finding pressure points in this rigged political system is tough. In some ways, senators, who campaign statewide, may be more susceptible to heavy-muscle persuasion than representatives ensconced in districts drawn for their advantage, yet upper-body lawmakers only have to worry about re-election every six years. Still, shouldn't war opponents in New York focus all their effort on, say, Sens. Hillary Clinton and Chuck Schumer and not worry about getting on a bus to D.C.?
One obvious response is that war foes can do both. But my hunch is that the rallies do distract—or at least consume—resources that could be used elsewhere. War critics who live in those few areas represented by legislators already skeptical of or opposed to the war might complain that this sort of strategy leaves them with nothing to do. But they could take the money they spent on heading to the rally and send it to an organization that will use it wisely in a focused campaign.
Such an approach offers no magic bullet. Stopping a war is rather difficult. But it may require different action than waving signs and listening to speeches. Certainly, a demonstration can produce memorable rhetoric. The passionate remarks delivered on Saturday by Etan Thomas, a forward for the NBA's Washington Wizards, have zipped across the Internet. But the anti-war crowd should ask: How much did this rally bolster popular opposition to the war? It can be argued, I suppose, that one demonstration can lead to another larger in size that can lead to another larger in size, as a movement builds to a point at which it cannot be denied. But—and this may reveal my own bias—I don’t envision dramatic and quick growth, unless Bush stupidly revives the draft.
So I return to the first question: Is politics-by-demonstration outdated and no longer effective? I'd be happy to be proven wrong. But could it be that, like many a general, the anti-war movement is fighting the previous war?
