Although the popular perception of left-wing protest movements is that they can be less than organized, New York's activists have been planning demonstrations against the Republican National Convention for over a year. "The minute we heard the RNC was coming here we thought about protesting," says Bill Dobbs, spokesman for Manhattan-based United for Peace and Justice, a loose coalition of 800 antiwar groups nationwide. Indeed, UFPJ has been planning its massive August 29 rally—which will kick off the protests and is expected to draw over 250,000 people—since June 2003.
Successfully bringing together hundreds of thousands of people who agree about little beyond their dislike of the party in power is a huge job that demands genuine organizational skills. How to coordinate activities among groups whose agendas range from peaceable protests to performance art to tossing pies—or worse—in delegates' faces? Here's how the organiz- ers of the RNC protests are bringing order to what often seems like chaos.
Spirit of the Sixties
Since August, No RNC Clearinghouse, which calls itself a "meeting place" (as opposed to "umbrella group") for groups coordinating convention protest activities, has been holding monthly get-togethers of about 200 activists using a unique meeting structure designed to minimize infighting while "creating a space where everyone's voice is heard," says Heidi Reijm, a 26-year-old graduate student in political science and a No RNC Clearinghouse meeting facilitator. "The format we use goes back to the Sixties," she adds.
Clearinghouse meetings take place on the second Thursday of each month in an East Village church, where at 6:30 p.m., first-timers get a half-hour orientation complete with handouts on how a consensus-seeking, participatory-democracy-style gathering works, including special hand signals to use (more on those later). The real meeting starts just after 7:00, with a series of reminders from the facilitator: This meeting is about networking among decentralized groups, not deciding for everyone; please behave respectfully and "maintain a . . . constructive vibe"; watch what you say, as both media and police may be present, and so on. "Then we do introductions," says Reijm—a five-minute, rapid-fire roll call of attendees' first names only, in case undercover police are in the audience, and group affiliations.
Next, it's time to listen to "report-backs" on activities in progress by the various groups present. Representatives raise their hands and Reijm assigns them numbers like so many deli customers. "What's especially important in these meetings is that we try to be wary of inequalities existing outside the meetings," she offers. Translation: Women and minorities get called on before "the white guys." Each person gets two minutes to speak and the time limit is strictly enforced, with facilitators holding up signs: "YOU HAVE ONE MINUTE LEFT," "YOU HAVE 30 SECONDS," and so on.
Members of the housing working group, for instance, might report on requests for accommodations from out-of-town protesters, while those in the legal working group ask for more volunteers or explain how they're planning to help anyone who's arrested during the convention to get out of jail. When Jonny America from the group Greene Dragon—named for a Founding Fathers watering hole—announces he'll be dressing up as Paul Revere and riding on horseback shouting, "The Republicans are coming!," audience members respond enthusiastically by wiggling their fingertips, which in activist-speak is called "twinkling." "It's a way of showing approval without clapping, which is more disruptive," explains Reijm.
During the 20-minute discussion period, groups bring in proposals to hash out (such as what the role of the media should be), and everyone votes. The meeting is "consensus-seeking," meaning facilitators try for 100-percent agreement; if that fails they go with two-thirds majority rule. Unanimity isn't as hard as you might think, since, as Reijm notes, "The issues being discussed are more logistical than political." At the end come half-hour breakout sessions; the entire meeting lasts only two hours.
Anti-Convention Conventions
Dobbs of UFPJ likes to stress the parallels between traditional planners and protest organizers. "All of the challenges of a successful corporate meeting are found in a successful protest, plus special concerns—permits, limited budgets, teams of medics and legal observers," he notes. If No RNC Clearinghouse meetings are any indication, activists are highly organized and dead serious about sending the message that the Republican convention is not welcome in New York. How they send the message, though, is another story.
Groups like the sarcastically named Billionaires For Bush, for instance, plan to dress in tuxedos and ball gowns, sip champagne, and chant absurdist slogans like "Four more wars!" More traditional activists will use visual art, civil disobedience, and possibly more violent tools like fishing line to trip police on horseback. UFPJ, meanwhile, does not condone violence and is planning no civil disobedience tactics; even so, at presstime the city had refused to let the group enter Central Park. "There's no limit to the imagination when it comes to demonstrations," says Dobbs, adding wryly, "A protest could even be a bunch of people sending postcards to Mayor Bloomberg objecting to his decision."