What to do when you're banned from Capitol Hill

"First they ignore you, then they ridicule you, then they fight you, then you win."
--Gandhi

George Bush, speaking at the Heritage Foundation today, complained about CODEPINK while we protested outside, calling him a war criminal. The day after Halloween, one of our supporters wore a rubber George Bush-as-vampire mask, fangs dripping blood, and a long black cape.

“When it comes to funding our troops, some in Washington should spend more time responding to the warnings of terrorists like Osama bin Laden and the requests of our commanders on the ground, and less time responding to the demands of MoveOn.org bloggers and CODEPINK protesters,” Bush said. If he had a brain, he'd realize how satisfying that is to us.

We had a megaphone and sang and yelled at Bush until the Heritage Foundation put on blasting marching music to drown us out. We marched around for a bit, the Dracula Bush goosestepping, but then moved on around the block down to the entrance Bush actually used after battalions of police and secret service cleared the path. A woman across the street offered us the use of her lawn, but the Secret Service was clearing out the whole block, and after some debate, we were forced to move back. We left two banners, and the Heritage Foundation folks stole them and hung one of them upside down from a tenth floor balcony. We got them back, probably after the Heritage folks remembered forking over $200 to replace a camera they broke in an earlier protest when CODEPINK took the stage away from panelists on Iran.

As Bush drove by in a caravan of black limousines, we gave him a chorus of War Criminal! War Criminal! War Criminal! He smiled and waved to us from the darkened window of his limo.


Since almost everyone in the CODEPINK D.C. House is banned temporarily from Capitol Hill due to earlier arrests, particularly after Des' confrontation with Condoleezza Rice, we've had to find other places to go. Tuesday it was to the Phoenix Hotel for our unveiling of Blackwater's new Department of Corporate Integrity, described in an earlier blog.

Wednesday we were at the FCC's public hearing on localization, a hearing announced just five days ahead, with one of the two women invited speakers called just the day before. Liz got us a speaking spot by getting in line at 4:30 a.m., and partied in the line with a team of satirical “FCC cheer leaders.”

We wrote a song the night before for the hearing, and sang it outside on line. To the tune of “There's no business like show business”:

There's no airways like my airways and I want to get more
People think that their new should be local
I don't think they need to have a choice
Problem is that they are way too vocal
They will be better off with just one voice.

There's no airways like my airways and I want to get more
The FCC is always there to help me.
They let me have Fox News and New York Post.
I give money to George Bush and Hillary
But I'm so rich that I don't have to boast.

There's no airways like my airways and I want to get more.
Tom Dick and Harry want to have a show
But I'm the man who has got the dough
For those who think there should be voices from below,
They won't miss what they don't know.

Sam took the spotlight with her “media whore” costume, black with lace and fishnet hose, corporate logos inked on her bare skin, and a “faux” on her cleavage. Police tried to remove her for “inappropriate dress,” but the convergence of the rest of CODEPINK and media persuaded the police to give it up and allow her to stay, so she took a front row seat.

Medea made a sign in her notebook, “Why are there only 2 women on a panel of 14?” and Leslie got it on their in-house screens until a copy made her put it down.

Sam took our speaking spot, explaining her “media whore” outfit as a comment on the fact that the media played a major role in getting the U.S. into the Iraq War and they're doing it again, uncritically reporting Bush's lies about Iran and his drumbeat for war in a shameless reprise of the build-up to the Iraq War. What democracy needs and what we're not getting from the media is diverse voices and critical examination of politicians' claims. Sam ended her testimony saying that it was time to stop prostituting our airwaves.

Sam's got a lot of emails complaining that none of the blogs who've mentioned her performance included a photo, so here it is.

Oops. Sorry. We're having technological difficulties with the photos. You'll just have to go on imagining Sam in a sexy French maid's outfit.

Naomi Wolf's “The End of America” blankets the Senate

I blogged a few days ago about giving my Montana Senator, Jon Tester, my personal copy of Naomi Wolf's “The End of America,” a great must-read book in which the author makes a chillingly credible case that America is far along the road from democracy to totalitarianism. What makes it so convincing is that it's not a secret conspiracy; it's all stuff you already know. “Invoke an external and internal threat...Establish secret prisons...Develop a paramilitary force....” Wolf draws parallels to Hitler's Germany, Mussolini's Italy, and Pinochet's Chile. Get the book. Read it.

Senator Tester told me his mother had called him the preceding weekend and told him he must read this book, so he accepted it and promised to read it on the plane on his way back to Montana.

Wolf's publisher, Margo Baldwin of Chelsea Green Publishing, put a comment on that blog generously offering to give me as many copies as I was willing to distribute to members of Congress! I'm leaving for Montana on Monday, but I asked for 100 copies for all the Senators, and the books arrived on Wednesday. I've been trekking from the CODEPINK D.C. House to the Senate office buildings for the last two days with bags full of books, got some help from another Pinker, Karen, today, and I'm almost finished. The last few will be distributed tomorrow. Let's hope at least some of the Senators remember they took an oath to protect the Constitution and actually read Wolf's book.

CODEPINK D.C. Introduces Blackwater's new Department of Corporate Integrity

Within minutes of Code Pink's emailing out a press conference invitation in the name of Blackwater's new Department of Corporate Integrity, Blackwater was on the phone to the Code Pink D.C. house. We hadn't sent them the invitation, but they got it right away, anyway.

The release read:
“Blackwater USA Unveils New Corporate Integrity Department
Where: Phoenix Park Hotel, Wednesday, Oct. 30, 11 a.m.
“As part of the 2007 Annual Summit of the International Peace Operations Association (IPOA), Blackwater will be unveiling its new Department of Corporate Integrity. Given the public's concern over recent allegations about the lack of oversight and accountability for private security contractors in Iraq, Blackwater has felt a need to defend its corporate name and clear up its public image. “Just as in warfare, a good offense is the best defense,” says Eric Prince, chairman and CEO of the Prince Group and Blackwater, USA. “So we are going on the offense to defend the image of our great company.

“Blackwater has become synonymous with mercenary, but the public doesn't understand that mercenary has actually be a positive term throughout history,” said Max Boot of the Council of Foreign Affairs at the IPOA opening plenary. [Code Pink's Medea and Gael snuck into the Sunday night opening session of the IPOA convention.] “Mercenaries have provided service to kings, popes, and national governments that armies could not provide. So instead of running from the label mercenary, Blackwater should embrace it and reclaim the term.

“Directing the new Department of Public Integrity is Kitty Laver, who has 20 years' experience in public relations and corporate responsibility. “My job is to put the mercy back in mercenary,” says Laver, who will be unveiling the department's new code of conduct and presenting new measures the corporation is taking to hold its employees and contractors accountable for unethical behavior. “I'm certain the American public and the Iraqis will embrace the new, improved Blackwater,” says Laver.
Baffled by this press release, Blackwater didn't know who they were calling, just the number in the announcement.

“We're Blackwater and we don't know anything about this,” our confused caller said.

“Well if you're Blackwater, how come don't you know anything about this?...” a Code Pinker replied.

Code Pinkers stayed in character as Kitty Laver of Blackwater while our phones rang off the hook from Blackwater and the press, confused because the mercenary firm was claiming they didn't know anything about this and the press couldn't find any information on a Kitty Laver [aka Medea Benjamin]. A television network called us to schedule Blackwater president Eric Prince for their morning talk show. We accepted, and arranged for a friend to show up as Prince, but that appointment soon fell through, given the growing questions about this press conference. Through Tuesday evening and Wednesday morning, no one admitted we were not Blackwater, though the occasional irrepressible whoop of glee in the background might have raised suspicions. Code Pinkers planned the Wednesday press conference in three hours of late-night brainstorming Tuesday.

The next morning we headed over to the Phoenix Hotel, Medea and Des all in black as Kitty Laver and her assistant, and with a “minister” carrying a wood cross marked:

M
MERCENARY
R
C
Y

“Put the mercy back in mercenary!”

We also had a “disgraced Blackwater employee” in an orange prisoner's jumpsuit, and his plain clothes guard. The rest of us wore white coveralls with (paper) Blackwater logos, logo hats, and white rubber gloves as we gathered in front of the hotel, while hefty security men in suits and ties blocked the hotel's entrance and watched us, unsmiling.

The press was gathered, waiting to find out who we really were. As we walked up, someone said, “Oh, it's Code Pink!” But we stayed in character.
Medea as Kitty explained that while Blackwater had not had corporate integrity before now, we were here to take on the task of cleaning up its tarnished image, starting with a generous gift to the disadvantaged of the next generation. As Des displayed some macho fighting man action toys bearing the fierce Blackwater logo, Kitty said the new corporate cleanup crew would be distributing them to disadvantaged youth in the city's homeless shelters during the holidays, “to help them on the road to growing up to be mercenaries themselves!”

Kitty described the public's misunderstanding of the heroic role of mercenaries in America's shining history, and introduced the new head of the Division of Corporate Spirituality. The Reverend (Jay Marx), holding his cross, spoke of Blackwater's deep missionary zeal and the need to reclaim the term “mercenary.” Finally, Laver explained that henceforth Blackwater would be policing its own employees, and in a program of tough love, imposing painful penalties on sinners, “such as the one we brought here today, for our demonstration of waterboarding.”

Steve Lane as the erring employee in the orange jump suit and Jim Preston then gave a chilling demonstration of waterboarding while our white-clad colleagues held the prisoner down. (It was a good fake, not the real thing. No one drowned.)

We concluded, as we'd started, with our corporate chant:

In God we trust,
Leave the killing to us.

No matter what you do,
We'll clean it up for you.

Be it blood or guts,
Leave the cleaning to us.

A newcomer's first week at Code Pink D.C.

Any week with Code Pink anywhere will be a one-of-a-kind experience and a highlight in your life. My first week flew by at the D.C. House. I came from Missoula, Montana, hoping to make peace and raise hell, knowing the Code Pink women only from this Web site and our emails and phone calls to schedule the two-week stay.

These amazing women can be a bit intimidating at first exposure. They're focused peacemaking professionals, they move at light speed, communicate with telepathy, talk in shorthand and always have a task, together or individually, so it's a bit like stepping on a moving train for the first day or two. I began by just tailing along, watching and learning.

The basic Code Pink D.C. idea is speaking truth to power by gaining access to Senators, Representatives, and other decision-makers by any means available, in Capitol Hill hallways, at elevators, the Hill subway stops, scheduled hearings, press conferences and talk shows. They know these officials on sight, and keep track of which issues to raise with the different lawmakers.

These determined women demand that the people's representatives get the troops home from Iraq and prevent a war with Iran. The Pink ladies take positions on other issues as they arise, like firing Blackwater and other private, for-profit mercenaries being paid with taxpayers' money, or opposing the confirmation of Attorney General nominee Michael Mukasey, since the man can't decide whether waterboarding is torture, isn't clear on whether FISA spying violates the Constitution, or whether the President really has to obey the law.

Everyone on Capitol Hill now sees the color pink coming, and these peacemaking ladies, with their colorful costumes, make powerful folks nervous. Passersby on the street also often appear to know what we're up to, and show their approval with peace signs, smiles, and often thanks.

The D.C. House has three above-ground stories and a basement, which serves as an office, costume shop and prop shop. Everywhere you look are antiwar slogans and photos of Pink ladies' actions. My favorite shows a solitary young woman in a flowing pink dress, looking like a dress-up princess, strolling past a solid line of tac-squad police holding shields. On my first night, Sunday, the basement housed a couple dozen young folks from SDS Chicago, in town for the “No War, No Warming” protests on Monday.

Monday we walked down to the Capitol grounds, a 10-15 minute walk, and met various contingents of the coalition, composed of Code Pink, SDS, and Greenpeace. We felt that bringing together the concerns of peace and global warming in one action marked a milestone for the movement, though the turnout was somewhat disappointing. Singing protesters in polar bear suits drew a lot of attention, and several ended up in jail, along with the SDS peacemakers (and no one from Code Pink), after several of them, bears and SDSers alike, blocked a main street alongside the Capitol. This action took place at the intersection of Independence and 1st Street, where a lone man has been fasting for peace on the steps of the Cannon building since October 1.

A Code Pink contingent accompanied David Swanson to deliver Spine Awards to Congressman Pete Stark and Senator Chris Dodd. Then the “No War, No Warming” action moved to the lawn in front of the Capitol. By this time Capitol Police had blocked off the plaza and all approaches to the front steps of the Capitol, so to get to the front lawn, for which we had a rally permit, we had to climb over waist-high walls. A couple of the police carried automatic rifles. Peace seems to make some of them uncomfortable. Rev. Yearwood spoke, poets recited, Des sang, polar bears cheered, and that was that.

Back at the house, women got busy with their laptops, fielding email, blogging, writing press releases and making phone calls.





Tuesday we went to the Canadian Embassy for a press conference Code Pink called to protest the exclusion of Ann Wright and Code Pink founder Medea Benjamin from Canada. The two were refused entry because the FBI had placed their names on a criminals list intended to warn of sexual predators and other dangerous felons, though their “crimes” were misdemeanor civil disobedience in the cause of peace. The fact that they were invited as guests of the Canadian Parliament made no difference. They were not allowed inside the embassy, but the Canadians sent a representative out to talk with us briefly in the rain.

From there we headed to Capitol Hill for a Select Intelligence Committee hearing taking testimony from top FBI officials, a chance to confront the FBI about how Ann and Medea ended up on this list. We kibbutzed a bit during the testimony, but the main action was after the hearing ended, when Medea and other women confronted the FBI spokesmen in the hearing room, then kept up the dialog by walking with the men around the block to their car, where the agents were finally able to escape the questions they stonewalled.

Wednesday turned out, unexpectedly, to be the big day, and I missed the main action. I'm not sorry, since if I'd been there I'd have spent the next 30 hours in jail with Des, Liz, Laurie, Medea and Zool. I was off to lobby my own Montana Senators, appointments scheduled in advance of my trip, and the top priority for newcomers.

But first things first. If you've spent the last few days underground or in outer space or locked in solitary confinement, you may not have heard about Desiree Fairooz's “bloody-handed” confrontation with Secretary of State Condi Rice. It wasn't planned, at least not the way it happened. The House Foreign Affairs Committee was to take testimony from Rice, and the Code Pinkers had the idea the night before of dipping their hands in something resembling blood.

The times when protesters can talk with witnesses without interrupting the hearing are, obviously enough, right before and right after the hearing. The hearing hadn't been convened when Condi walked in, and Des realized to her surprise that there was no one at all and nothing but a couple of chairs between her and Condi – the Secret Service men were all behind Rice. Des seized the moment, walked up to Rice, held bloody hands in her face – but never touched her – and said “The blood of a million Iraqis is on your hands.”

A Secret Service man knocked Representative Ros-Lehtinen out of his way as he dived for Des, and a Capitol Policewomen led her away, unresisting but continuing to comment. “War criminal,” she yelled. “Take her to The Hague.”

But several Capitol Policemen came down hard on the other Code Pink women sitting in the hearing room, knocking Liz off her feet and manhandling her and Medea out of the hearing room, also arresting Lori and Zool, without giving any of them a chance to leave quietly or even to be arrested without brutality. The brutality continued out in the hallway, away from the media. After handcuffing Liz's hands behind her back, a cop knocked her down so she fell onto her face, breaking her glasses and cutting her face close to an eye. At the jail, several of the jailers took pleasure in tormenting their helpless charges, as the women suffered cold for the next 30 hours and slept on steel slabs without mattresses. A few of the jailers were kind and embarrassed by the others.

I was oblivious, off doing my duty with Senators Max Baucus and John Tester of Montana. Baucus has been in the Senate since 1978, and he's used to adulation from his constituents, so I was a bit of a shock. My only shot at him was at the weekly “constituent breakfast,” a lot of polite people from Montana sharing coffee, orange juice and muffins with the two Senators. Baucus was clearly shocked when, emulating my bold sisters, I didn't take “No can do” as an answer on getting the troops home from Iraq. I wasn't wearing pink, so he had no warning. He insisted that until the Democrats get a filibuster-breaking 60 votes, there's nothing he can do. I suggested the Senate could just keep sending Bush war-funding legislation with firm withdrawal conditions and let “The Decider” take responsibility for vetoing troop funding. Baucus raised his voice and kept repeating “60 votes!” He suggested I move to another state and replace their Republican Senators with Democrats. When I'd pushed him about as far as I thought I could, I went over to talk to Senator Tester. I like Tester. This is his first term, and I volunteered for his campaign. As soon as I walked up to Tester, Baucus materialized at his side. “Go ahead, ask him! He'll tell you the same thing!,” Baucus insisted. I told Baucus, “Senator Tester is actually going to sit down and talk with me (unlike you) – We have an appointment at 1 p.m.” “No, go ahead and ask him,” Baucus repeated. Tester did, of course, agree with his senior Senator.



But I had a better meeting with Senator Tester later in the day. My real goal, that I thought I could actually accomplish, was to give him Naomi Wolf's new book, “The End of America,” and get him to agree to read it. Wolf makes a chillingly credible case that the United States is well advanced along a stealthy transformation from democracy to totalitarianism. I got some unexpected help from Tester's mother. He told me his mother had called the preceding weekend and told him to read Naomi Wolf's new book, and he promised he would read it on the plane back to Montana, and I believe him.

“My mother's upset that even though I'm a Senator now, I haven't stopped the war,” Tester said.

When I got back to the House, Gael, Sam, Leslie, Midge and Sean were dealing with a firestorm of press reaction as well as the fact of five colleagues in jail. The story had gone international immediately, and phones were ringing off the hook. If that weren't enough, Wednesday is the weekly potluck and the Freepers (FreeRepublic.com), rightwing thugs, were out front harassing visitors and taking everyone's photo. Gael and Leslie went off to take warm clothes to the prisoners and the rest of us cooked and baked for the potluck, ignored the Freepers, and welcomed intrepid guests.

And I'm only three days into a two-week visit!

To be continued....