University of Virginia Library

Spirit Of '69

Only The Dead Have Peace?

By Barry Levine
Cavalier Daily Staff Writer

The people came to Washington.
They gathered as a microcosm of
the New America, and they were as
divided politically and culturally as
the Old Order they opposed. Yet
the bond of the joy of life was alive
in the March, and the message was
simple: "Peace Now!"

"We are out on the streets today
to ask that we look at one another
without labels," read one leaflet
from the New Mobilization Committee.
"We are against putting
labels on people - like 'capitalist,'
'commie,' 'hippie,' 'pig.' Before
anything else, men and women are
alive, want to be loved, and all of us
on this planet, this life raft we call
Earth, will make it together or we
won't make it at all."

It was largely a post-World War
II crowd, whose thoughts are
concerned more with the honor of
nuclear annihilation than with the
threat of foreign domination. There
were some adults, and some blacks,
but for the most part it was the
sons and daughters of the white
middle-class known as the "silent
majority."

Most of the time, the "silent
majority" isn't only silent; it's mute
And when it is brought out of its
self-satisfied stupor by attacks of
the vocal minority, its only defense
is to bellow a wait of anguish as it
runs to its statues and cries "those
were the days."

It kept its army trucks and
troops in readiness behind the iron
fences of the Department of Commerce,
in a scene that was more like
Prague than Washington.

And the mass media had learned
from the blind anger of Chicago:
many reporters covered the march
in helmets marked "Press."

Blocks of marchers wound
through downtown D.C. It was, as
Richard Nixon might have described
it, the biggest peace march
"since the Creation."

Unity In Peace

Again and again, the cry "Peace
- Now!" began from the back of
the crowds, and it moved, wave by
wave, until the whole march
erupted in the chant.

The unity of the two words
overcame the differences: in the
middle of one group of chanting
students, an elderly white-haired
couple, each with a button bearing
only the peace sign and each
carrying a small American flag, said
in an almost pleading whisper,
"Peace...now."

Signs and buttons dotted the
crowds, making it appear at first
glance like an old-time political
convention. Several made clear
their location and their intention:
"Virginia wants Peace."

Though some were far-left (read
two buttons: "He lives" and "Marx
Workers of the World, unite"),
most made clear that they found
their patriotism in peace.

Many buttons had peace signs
against the backdrop of the Capitol,
and others described the owner as a
"Veteran for Peace."

Varied Speakers

More than any other symbol
displayed was the American flag.
The hundreds of small and large
American flags were apparently
shown with the same devotion,
though not the same emotion, as
those seen earlier in the week on
Veterans' Day.

On that day, Lester Maddox had
warned a cheering Georgian crowd,
"There are some misguided punks
among us today..." while Mendel
Rivers welcomed a pro-Vietnam
crowd with the V-sign, a la Mr.
Nixon. Mr. Rivers showed it with
the same fervor for victory as Dr.
Benjamin Spock does for peace.

Hyperbole and irrationality is
not limited only to the Establishment.
A businessman at the rally
incredibly talked of the need to
replace the depersonalization of
government with "business-like
techniques."

The SNCC chairman, protected
on the speaking platform by his
two body guards, talked of the
impending "revolution of the
third-world peoples," and of their
leader, Ho Chi Minh.

And the deceptive oratory of a
political convention was not totally
absent either. One speaker told an
ecstatic crowd that official reports
being broadcasted over the radio
said the turnout was "over one and
a half million people."

Another asked for a ride or
contributions to help send a young
wife to California to see her
husband, dying from injuries received
in Vietnam, yet neglected to
inform the eager crowd of the
standing policies of the government
and the Red Cross to provide
transportation under such circumstances.

The speakers were as varied as
the crowd itself. David Dellinger,
his voice at times rising in emotion,
called for an end to capitalism as
well as to imperialism, after attacking
the favorite target of the day,
Spiro Agnew. "Spiro Agnew is the
Richard Nixon of the Richard
Nixon Administration," he said. "If
he didn't exist, we would have to
invent him."

Mr. Dellinger was followed by
Senator Charles Goodell, whose call
for a change of direction in
American policy seemed mild in
contrast to Mr. Dellinger's.

Folksinger Christopher Mann
sang: "If I die for a good reason,
that's all right, because sometimes a
man has to fight."

Yet, later, Rip Tom read a poem
that ended: "Kill for Justice/Kill
for Peace/Kill for Honor/It's insane."

Explained Peter Yarrow of
Peter, Paul, and Mary: "We have
listened to a number of people say
'Peace' in many different ways. But
that's democracy."

The Yippies were having a great
time, riding on the top of a rented
Ryder truck, throwing oranges into
the crowd, and looking more like
the tail end of a wild party than the
precursor of a new movement.

One Yippie, with long curly hair
and a yellow flag with "Yippie"
printed on it, looked as if he was
flying higher than the four Army
helicopters that orbited overhead.

"Ho-Ho-Ho Chi Minh," he kept
saying, as he chewed his glove. He
recited chants with all the conviction
or thought of a child reciting
rhymes while jumping rope: "1-2
stop the trial; 3-4 stop the war; 5-6
stop the trial; 7-8 smash the state."

If the Yippies are the clowns of
the clowns of the peace movement,
the Weathermen are the fools.
Often wearing crash helmets and
carrying Viet Cong flags, the far-left
faction of SDS was bent on
disruption.

They even felt compelled to
heckle a symphony string quartet
that played at the rally, because
they wanted more rock bands to
perform.

Revolution Vs. Reform

At one point in the crowd, a
Canadian army officer in uniform
agreed with a tall youth about the
need for social reform, and a
revolution in ideas, yet objected to
a violent Revolution.

The youth kept arguing and
yelling, often shaking his head in
disgust, with an attitude indicating
his bare tolerance for what he
considered the officer's incredible
stupidity.

"C'mon man," he kept saying,
"What are you talking about? We
have to have the Revolution now!"

He swept his hand in the
direction of the crowd. "If the
people can be motivated for something
like this, they can be
galvanized for the takeover."

"This rally is nonsense, man. All
this dancing and singing. What does
it accomplish? I've been working
for the Revolution for four years."

When the army officer started
arguing that peace was a common
goal of all the people there, while
revolution was not, the youth just
turned away as he said, "No
left-wing speakers either."

For the most part, the only
Weathermen who affected the
marchers were the ones who correctly
predicted the mid-30 degree
weather.

Divisiveness and disorder was
not the dominant feature, but the
sincerity and immense friendliness
of the marchers was.

All were united by their common
hope, and all shared the same
experiences of the day.

One girl handed out love poems;
a black demonstrator passed around
a box of raisins through the crowd;
a parade marshal handed out
cigarettes as people went by.

Marchers immediately began
conversations with one another,
and the unity continued to the
rally.

Near the rally's end, as the cast
of "Hair" sang for over an hour, the
entire mass of people reacted. In
the packed middle, a sea of arms
moved in the peace sign, and, on
the outside, dozens of circles of
people were dancing and singing in
their hope for a dawning of
Aquarius.

It was fitting that growing from
the crowd was the Washington
Monument, a
structure of simple
unity and human creativity.

As the night approached, a
demonstrator played the Star-Spangled
Banner on his trumpet,
and the remaining marchers sang
with their hands held high in the
peace sign. There was no cheering
after the singing, unlike at a
baseball game, only a deep silence.

As a dissenter one said: "If this
be treason, make the most of it."

The dancing, the singing, the
hopes and worries, the young
couples walking in the dusk, that
marked the end of the rally, all
made it seem very unreal that the
irreplaceable loss of American and
Vietnamese lives is still continuing.

It was hard to comprehend that
the dead of the war are the only
ones who have peace now.