Bring the Sixties Out of the Closet

Late into Dana Spiotta's brilliant new novel, "Eat the Document," the protagonist, a woman who has lived "underground" for years, hiding from the consequences of a 1960s political protest gone badly awry, flashes back to the moment of choice:

"The question is, do we want to leave action to the brutes of the world? … There are some inherent problems built into acting. It lacks perfection. But I believe we must fight back, or we will feel shame all our lives. We, the privileged, are more obligated. It is a moral duty to do something, however imperfect. … If we don't do something, all our lives we will feel regret."

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about the '60s (actually the period from '67 to '73) -- that political era so filled with possibility, so much a part of the blood and souls of millions of aging baby boomers like myself. The period was profoundly effective in the changes it provoked, yet is so persistently pilloried for its exaggerated excesses. One reason I find myself looking back is the pervasive feeling of political impotence so many of us feel at this moment in history, and our seeming inability to act -- to be noticed, to make a difference.

There are some present-day chilling parallels to the repression of the Nixon era -- and of course many differences -- but there is a feeling in the air that smells like the '60s, that sends paranoid vibes through the body politic. The events taking place -- warrantless wiretapping, political corruption, torture, the war in Iraq with its disgusting profiteering while tens of thousands of people die -- demand a response equal to the situation, Yet we sit without a clear path showing us our step.

A short time ago, in a funding appeal to the AlterNet community, I wrote: "I haven't felt this angry, frightened or radical in a long time. We can no longer just do what we have been doing. In my several decades working in politics and media, the present feels dire."

Those were my emotions; however, I didn't offer an action plan. The best I could do was ask for support so AlterNet could continue being a thorn in the side of the Bush administration. Important, but not sufficient.

In the first draft of my appeal letter, I had also written: "Not since John Mitchell was attorney general and a paranoid, anti-Semitic Richard Nixon at the helm, have we been under an assault close to what we have today. And we don't have a Watergate to get Bush out of office." My editor suggested I take those sentences out -- "No need to go back to the past, and younger readers probably won't relate to this piece of history," she said. So I did.

But my memory of that time is still so powerful, because many of us did act -- sometimes wildly, sometimes irresponsibly -- and we couldn't be ignored. And who can say that the Bush administration isn't shockingly irresponsible every day?

I remember so clearly the May Day 1971 protests in Washington, D.C., glaring at Attorney General John Mitchell as he stood on the roof of the Justice Department, puffing his ever-present pipe and pretending to ignore the thousands of screaming, chanting masses in the street. The WikiPedia describes May 3, 1971, as "one of the most disruptive actions of the Vietnam War era."

The threat caused by the May Day Protests forced the Nixon administration to create a virtual state of siege in the nation's capital. Thousands of federal and National Guard troops, along with local police, suppressed the disorder, and by the time it was over several days later, over 10,000 would be arrested. It would be the largest mass arrest in U.S. history.

That's not a typo: More than 10,000 people were arrested, jammed into jails that resembled crowded elevators and bused out to RFK Stadium. It was crazy, anarchistic and perhaps politically naive, but it was action. It made an impression. We were noticed. And it was exhilarating to bond with so many in a cause that felt so just. Critics may suggest that the protest made things worse, that it played into the hands of the Republicans. But I don't think so. Resistance is important. (There is a parallel today, with some critics charging that talk of impeaching Bush and Sen. Russ Feingold's motion to censure are also counterproductive.)