d.c., iraq veterans against the war, civil disobedience/direct action
I wrote the following yesterday, I think, but just haven't decided whether to post it or not until now. It is long-winded but I wanted to get some of it down in words.
I slept 15 hours last night. I got back yesterday from a trip to D.C., to take part in action against the war in Iraq.
I wrote out a long description of what happened….but it is so long and detailed that I don’t think I’ll post it here. Instead, I’ll write a “quick” summary.
There was a rally and march on the 15th. I rode out in a van with some other folks from Colorado and we picked up some more people along the way. I had a really good time getting to know them.
There was a planned civil disobedience action—a “die-in” at the capital at the end of the march. I marched with the Black Block and then, when we neared the capital, left the Block and hurried to the capital. I moved to the front of the large group of people, up to where the police had erected a metal barrier at the foot of the steps of the capital.
The situation quickly became very intense. A large number of people, led by Iraq war veteran against the war, began to lie down. Police arrested a few people, pulling some over the barrier. I stayed by the barrier, at a point where it joined a cement wall and banister along the foot of the stairs and I joined in with chants and shouting.
After awhile, the veterans decided to take more direct action and began climbing over the wall, one by one, and be arrested. This continued for quite awhile, as Iraq war veterans, then veterans for peace, and then lots of other people joined the line going over the wall. I saw one of the people from our group that had ridden together from Colorado climb up on the wall, raise his fist, and go over. He is a Vietnam veteran and a member of veterans for peace. The line of people kept going up and over, police arresting one after another.
I had decided to participate in the action and was waiting for what I felt was the right time to act. I noticed that police were beginning to bring in canisters of pepper spray. I had a feeling that the police would soon stop allowing people over the wall and would try to disperse the protesters. Before long, the police apparently decided that there had already been enough arrests and that they needed to wrap things up. I saw a man in a red sweatshirt climb atop the wall and attempt to go over it to be arrested. The police pushed him back with riot shields. I climbed the banister to cross over to where the man in the red sweatshirt was standing, now on the ground. When I got to that side, another man climbed up onto the wall. I felt that it was the right time, so I put my foot on the cement of the banister and jumped up onto the top of the wall.
I waved at the crowd, motioning forward with my arm and shouting--trying to encourage others to come. As I was continuing this, I was suddenly hit directly in the face with a stream of pepper spray. I went down on my hands and knees on the top of the wall and felt sick and extremely disorientated. I called for water and someone pushed a bottle into my hands. I tried to flush my eyes. I couldn’t see and snot and tears seemed to be flowing everywhere. I heard someone ask my name. I didn’t respond and I heard a voice say “anonymous.”
Soon, I sensed that the other person was moving back to the wall. I stood back up, holding onto a light post with my left hand. I was worried that one of us might fall or be pushed backwards off the wall. I put my other arm around the other person and felt him being pushed back and forth. I think I was sprayed again at this point. I was really disorientated. I remember touching the light post with my hand and it was slick with pepper spray.
The person I was holding onto was pulled forward into the police. Police were pulling at my feet and legs and I went forward and was pulled down and away and pushed onto the ground. I said “I’m not resisting, I just can’t see.” As I was cuffed with thick plastic zips and searched, I heard police saying that I was being charged with a felony. They led me up the capital steps; I couldn’t see and so I tripped a few times. When we reached the top of the steps, the police told me to get on my knees. After I hesitated and asked “what?”, I was told that the police had water for my eyes. I could sense a large number of people and was able to catch a quick glimpse out of my left eye. There was a huge line of people who had been arrested. The police told me that I was “going to the front of the line; you’re going to headquarters” because of a felony property damage charge.
The officers told some more police that I was “going to headquarters.” I was put alone into a paddy wagon and, after a short wait, driven to D.C. capital police headquarters. I stayed calm the whole time, although I was scared about the felony charge, even though I knew I had done nothing to warrant it. I was scared that the police would try to charge me with trying to inciting a riot. I thought the felony charge and the police comments about it were meant to be intimidating for some reason. I was happy with my decision, though, and told myself that whatever happened would be okay.
Once I got to the station, I was searched and booked and questioned a little. The pepper spray started getting to the police officers in the room, irritating their eyes and causing sneezing and coughing. The police took me to another room and handcuffed one arm to the wall. The arresting officer came in; he was a good person, I felt--I was happy it was him that would be doing the processing. I didn’t feel the same about everyone I came into contact with (I got an uneasy feeling about one person there) but I really did like the arresting officer. He told me that he was a veteran of Operation Enduring Freedom and had served in Africa. I think he understood why people were doing what they were doing in D.C. I think the fact that so many veterans were involved was a very powerful message. I said that the people taking action did not want to see any more soldiers being killed needlessly. He treated me as personably as possible in that situation and it made the experience much better than it could have been.
He left the room part way through the process; when he returned he was smiling and said “it’s been dropped to ‘crossing police lines,’ a misdemeanor!” When that part of the night was over, I was put into another paddy wagon to be taken to a cell. The arresting officer came out to talk to me and he was kind and obviously felt bad about what had happened. And it was in a real way, not in some kind of police psychology way. We talked and then he left and before long I was taken with two others to another place. One of these other people was the other man who was also on the wall and pepper sprayed. The other was a man initially charged with having an “incendiary device,” which was actually a bundle of sage that he had lit and was letting smoke.
At the next place, I was again searched and fingerprinted (every finger plus palms; ink and computer). I was photographed and then put in a cell. It was just me and I was glad—it was very tiny. It was all stainless steel, except for the cage door and a light that never turned off. There was a toilet but no paper. I stood, sat, and finally lied down on the steel bed. My arms burned but I rested on the bunk until about 1:30 or 2:00 in the morning when an officer came, unlocked the cell, and handcuffed me. I, along with the other person who was pepper sprayed, were taken back to headquarters and given our possessions. We then walked from the station and went to wherever we were staying. I later found out that a friend from Fort Collins who flew out to D.C. also participated in the civil disobedience and was arrested.
It was quite an experience for me. I was so happy and so proud of the Iraq veterans who decided to climb the wall. And of all the other veterans and all the other people who made that decision and all of the people who were a part of the day. I really feel like this was a turning point in the anti-war efforts. That voice is so powerful. What does it mean when the soldiers fighting a war come home and say that it is wrong and must end and that we all need to take action to end it? Some of the police officers told me that they were against the war, too. Maybe police will be next in opposing this war.
I guess this “quick” summary is still pretty long but nothing like what I first wrote! I have come home from what was, for me, a very meaningful action and I have revived energy and momentum. Today I just have not known what to do. It’s like I want to be back in D.C. with people taking action. I want us to be on the steps of the capital, the people demanding an end to this war.
I want to include here a link to the Iraq Veterans Against the War. It made me feel so good to see people coming from a military background, people who have actually been in Iraq because of this war, take such a powerful stand against the war and occupation. Their website is:
http://www.ivaw.org/
I slept 15 hours last night. I got back yesterday from a trip to D.C., to take part in action against the war in Iraq.
I wrote out a long description of what happened….but it is so long and detailed that I don’t think I’ll post it here. Instead, I’ll write a “quick” summary.
There was a rally and march on the 15th. I rode out in a van with some other folks from Colorado and we picked up some more people along the way. I had a really good time getting to know them.
There was a planned civil disobedience action—a “die-in” at the capital at the end of the march. I marched with the Black Block and then, when we neared the capital, left the Block and hurried to the capital. I moved to the front of the large group of people, up to where the police had erected a metal barrier at the foot of the steps of the capital.
The situation quickly became very intense. A large number of people, led by Iraq war veteran against the war, began to lie down. Police arrested a few people, pulling some over the barrier. I stayed by the barrier, at a point where it joined a cement wall and banister along the foot of the stairs and I joined in with chants and shouting.
After awhile, the veterans decided to take more direct action and began climbing over the wall, one by one, and be arrested. This continued for quite awhile, as Iraq war veterans, then veterans for peace, and then lots of other people joined the line going over the wall. I saw one of the people from our group that had ridden together from Colorado climb up on the wall, raise his fist, and go over. He is a Vietnam veteran and a member of veterans for peace. The line of people kept going up and over, police arresting one after another.
I had decided to participate in the action and was waiting for what I felt was the right time to act. I noticed that police were beginning to bring in canisters of pepper spray. I had a feeling that the police would soon stop allowing people over the wall and would try to disperse the protesters. Before long, the police apparently decided that there had already been enough arrests and that they needed to wrap things up. I saw a man in a red sweatshirt climb atop the wall and attempt to go over it to be arrested. The police pushed him back with riot shields. I climbed the banister to cross over to where the man in the red sweatshirt was standing, now on the ground. When I got to that side, another man climbed up onto the wall. I felt that it was the right time, so I put my foot on the cement of the banister and jumped up onto the top of the wall.
I waved at the crowd, motioning forward with my arm and shouting--trying to encourage others to come. As I was continuing this, I was suddenly hit directly in the face with a stream of pepper spray. I went down on my hands and knees on the top of the wall and felt sick and extremely disorientated. I called for water and someone pushed a bottle into my hands. I tried to flush my eyes. I couldn’t see and snot and tears seemed to be flowing everywhere. I heard someone ask my name. I didn’t respond and I heard a voice say “anonymous.”
Soon, I sensed that the other person was moving back to the wall. I stood back up, holding onto a light post with my left hand. I was worried that one of us might fall or be pushed backwards off the wall. I put my other arm around the other person and felt him being pushed back and forth. I think I was sprayed again at this point. I was really disorientated. I remember touching the light post with my hand and it was slick with pepper spray.
The person I was holding onto was pulled forward into the police. Police were pulling at my feet and legs and I went forward and was pulled down and away and pushed onto the ground. I said “I’m not resisting, I just can’t see.” As I was cuffed with thick plastic zips and searched, I heard police saying that I was being charged with a felony. They led me up the capital steps; I couldn’t see and so I tripped a few times. When we reached the top of the steps, the police told me to get on my knees. After I hesitated and asked “what?”, I was told that the police had water for my eyes. I could sense a large number of people and was able to catch a quick glimpse out of my left eye. There was a huge line of people who had been arrested. The police told me that I was “going to the front of the line; you’re going to headquarters” because of a felony property damage charge.
The officers told some more police that I was “going to headquarters.” I was put alone into a paddy wagon and, after a short wait, driven to D.C. capital police headquarters. I stayed calm the whole time, although I was scared about the felony charge, even though I knew I had done nothing to warrant it. I was scared that the police would try to charge me with trying to inciting a riot. I thought the felony charge and the police comments about it were meant to be intimidating for some reason. I was happy with my decision, though, and told myself that whatever happened would be okay.
Once I got to the station, I was searched and booked and questioned a little. The pepper spray started getting to the police officers in the room, irritating their eyes and causing sneezing and coughing. The police took me to another room and handcuffed one arm to the wall. The arresting officer came in; he was a good person, I felt--I was happy it was him that would be doing the processing. I didn’t feel the same about everyone I came into contact with (I got an uneasy feeling about one person there) but I really did like the arresting officer. He told me that he was a veteran of Operation Enduring Freedom and had served in Africa. I think he understood why people were doing what they were doing in D.C. I think the fact that so many veterans were involved was a very powerful message. I said that the people taking action did not want to see any more soldiers being killed needlessly. He treated me as personably as possible in that situation and it made the experience much better than it could have been.
He left the room part way through the process; when he returned he was smiling and said “it’s been dropped to ‘crossing police lines,’ a misdemeanor!” When that part of the night was over, I was put into another paddy wagon to be taken to a cell. The arresting officer came out to talk to me and he was kind and obviously felt bad about what had happened. And it was in a real way, not in some kind of police psychology way. We talked and then he left and before long I was taken with two others to another place. One of these other people was the other man who was also on the wall and pepper sprayed. The other was a man initially charged with having an “incendiary device,” which was actually a bundle of sage that he had lit and was letting smoke.
At the next place, I was again searched and fingerprinted (every finger plus palms; ink and computer). I was photographed and then put in a cell. It was just me and I was glad—it was very tiny. It was all stainless steel, except for the cage door and a light that never turned off. There was a toilet but no paper. I stood, sat, and finally lied down on the steel bed. My arms burned but I rested on the bunk until about 1:30 or 2:00 in the morning when an officer came, unlocked the cell, and handcuffed me. I, along with the other person who was pepper sprayed, were taken back to headquarters and given our possessions. We then walked from the station and went to wherever we were staying. I later found out that a friend from Fort Collins who flew out to D.C. also participated in the civil disobedience and was arrested.
It was quite an experience for me. I was so happy and so proud of the Iraq veterans who decided to climb the wall. And of all the other veterans and all the other people who made that decision and all of the people who were a part of the day. I really feel like this was a turning point in the anti-war efforts. That voice is so powerful. What does it mean when the soldiers fighting a war come home and say that it is wrong and must end and that we all need to take action to end it? Some of the police officers told me that they were against the war, too. Maybe police will be next in opposing this war.
I guess this “quick” summary is still pretty long but nothing like what I first wrote! I have come home from what was, for me, a very meaningful action and I have revived energy and momentum. Today I just have not known what to do. It’s like I want to be back in D.C. with people taking action. I want us to be on the steps of the capital, the people demanding an end to this war.
I want to include here a link to the Iraq Veterans Against the War. It made me feel so good to see people coming from a military background, people who have actually been in Iraq because of this war, take such a powerful stand against the war and occupation. Their website is:
http://www.ivaw.org/
posted by matt iv at 9:55 AM
4 Comments:
I had heard about the "die-in" in D.C.! That's very exciting that you were part of the news article that I read!
I'm sorry to hear that you were pepper sprayed and such, but I guess you could count it as your "war wounds" (for lack of a better term). I mean, I think if I were to go a gathering or protest or something, it would mean more if I were roughed up a little, so I could say I was actually a PART of it, rather than...watching from the sidelines, I guess.
I dunno. I don't think that made sense.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ben,
i don't know why i decided to post something that was just a recount of my own experience--i guess it was just really in my mind when i got home. still, i feel a bit silly about dedicating so much of the post to my own experience but i suppose it is what was closest and made the most sense to me when i was writing.
the most important thing, i think, is just that so many people participated in the day and that there were so many iraq war veterans and other veterans involved. and that there was a decision that just marching was not enough and direct action is necessary.
lol. No, I mean what *I* wrote didn't make much sense! Your actual post made lots of sense. It was very descriptive, and in my minds eye it almost felt like I was there.
No, keep writing how you're writing! It's very enjoyable to read.
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