Eugene Weekly : 11.24.04

Vietnam to Iraq

Eugene's peace activism spans generations. PART ONE

Story & photos by Kera Abraham

The students in UO instructor Chuck Hunt's sociology class want to start a movement. They're upset about a range of issues, from the erosion of civil liberties to military recruitment to corporate control of the government, but they are united in their opposition to the Iraq War. And it's hard for them to find an outlet for that energy, because there is no anti-war group on campus.

Clockwise from top left: Mandee Bish, Dinae Horne, Carol Van Houton, Emily Howard, Dan Goldrich, Ryan Duff, Marion Malcolm, Ana Rolka, Sara R. Taylor

"It's been my experience that it's very hard to get people involved in a movement that's only partially organized," says Dinae Horne, a petite 21-year-old with a septum ring and earnest blue eyes. After the class watched films about the civil rights movement and Berkeley in the '60s, Horne asked her 95 classmates if they were really serious about organizing now. Almost every hand went up. The students asked their instructor if they could use the class as a forum for organizing.

Hunt gladly acquiesced. "I don't think I had a choice," he says. "There was a great deal of concern and a sense that things weren't going to change unless they did it." He gave the students the next class period to begin to hammer out the details.

But the next class was a bit chaotic. Some students worried that their pet issues would be sidelined; others bickered over the amount of class credit that they would receive for their activism. "What we're having trouble with is finding a common focus," one student said.

Hunt, a gray-bearded man wearing suspenders and a gold earring, assured them that frustration is a part of activism. "This is what it feels like," he said. "You're concerned about getting a night's sleep, and you have an exam the next day. You're confused. You're not sure what the outcome will be five years down the road. It's so much easier in retrospect."

And Eugene is swimming in retrospect about Vietnam War-era activism. Although times are different, the local anti-war movement of the late '60s and early '70s offers lessons for today's nascent movement against the Iraq War.

Marion Malcolm and Dan Goldrich sit in Allann Bros. Coffee shop talking about old times. Malcolm, 65, has been a key player in Eugene's activist community since 1966. During the Vietnam War, she was a core activist with the Women's International League for Peace and Freedom (WILPF). Today, she works with Community Alliance of Lane County (CALC). Goldrich, 71, came to Eugene in 1963 to teach political science at the UO and got involved with a spectrum of social justice and anti-war organizations. Now retired, he continues to do peace work both on campus and in the greater community.

Malcolm and Goldrich describe the '60s as a time when young people, impatient with their parents' generation, believed that they had to make change. Social movements rage on many fronts: civil rights, women's liberation, rock 'n' roll and psychedelic drugs.

"People believed the revolution was in process," Malcolm says. "And that turned out not to be true. What turned out to be true is that the power of the state was a lot greater, and a lot more willing to come down on people, than originally imagined. Many people were disillusioned and really backed off."

That disillusionment, she says, translated to a more cynical generation of people born in the '70s and early '80s. "The people who grew up with parents from the Vietnam War generation have never been able to believe that it was going to be very easy to change the United States for the better," Malcolm says.

Goldrich has a slightly different perspective. "Young people in the '60s and '70s had much too little sense of the normal American's commitment to everyday life, to the way things were. And so the talk about revolution in this country was romantic beyond belief," he says. "Ever since then, people, including young people, have been much more realistic, much less romantic. And I consider that a big gain."

Malcolm presses her hands together. "Yes and no, Dan," she says. "You can't make change if you can't envision it."

The Vietnam War provoked a massive opposition movement across the U.S., but the Iraq War, once initiated, elicited barely a squeak of protest. The difference is most stark on college campuses, which roiled with student activism during in the '60s. UO students held sit-ins, teach-ins, marches and rallies against the Vietnam War. The Black Panthers opened a Eugene chapter and young women burned their bras. Students on the more radical end set fire to a building, dug craters in a university lawn and "defoliated" the Ducks Astroturf in opposition to the war. Today, the campus is docile.

"There was a student movement then, and there's not a student movement now," Malcolm says. "It's kind of distressing. If you look at the recent rallies that have been held at the Federal Building, it's been largely an older crowd."

Still, Malcolm acknowledges that it takes time to build a movement. The Vietnam War lasted roughly a decade, from 1964 through 1975, but the anti-war movement wasn't big until the late '60s. "It took us the first five to six years of the U.S. being actively engaged in the Vietnam War before we had more than a pretty small minority opposed to the war," she says. "And it was a fairly isolated and scary feeling."

Emily Howard sits in Espresso Roma near campus, her thick-lashed brown eyes magnified by rectangular glasses. Howard, 21, is a student of history and political science at the UO and a co-director of the Survival Center, a nonpartisan organization that acts as an "incubator" for student activist campaigns. Although the Survival Center helps coordinate activist events, the campus currently lacks a core anti-war group.

A woman uses an American flag to protest the Iraq War at the EMU amphitheater.

That bothers Howard. She worries that without major opposition from Americans, the Iraq War will kill more people, draw in other nations and drag on for years. But she says that young would-be activists are intimidated by the legacy of the '60s.

"We're trying too hard to emulate the Vietnam War era protesting," she says. "We're too concerned with mirroring something that appeared to be successful without taking context into consideration. It was a different time; it was a different people; it was a different administration; it was a different war. We're getting very easily discouraged, because we're not seeing success on the same level as what was encountered during the Vietnam era. We're not realizing how much time and effort it took to get to that success."

Instead of looking to the past, Howard says, young activists should think of new ways to oppose the war. "We need to think about what our brand of activism should look like," she says.

Mainstream media tend to be placid — if not discouraging — in their coverage of protest movements, leaving the in-depth reporting to alternative media. Arguably, the UO student publication most likely to fill that role on campus is The Insurgent, a 15-year-old newspaper that aims to publish progressive perspectives neglected by mainstream news sources.

Ryan Duff, a 22-year-old junior in journalism at the UO, is one of The Insurgent's editors. A Montana native with broad shoulders and middle-America good looks, Duff speaks softly and somberly. He says that while The Insurgent tends to be critical of the Bush administration, the paper hasn't done enough to encourage activism against the Iraq War.

"We could have made a better effort to publicize efforts that other people are making," he says. "The reasons given for the war are ridiculous. The public has been intentionally misled."

As Duff sees it, activism is formulaic. Two things make a movement: organization and numbers. He describes a "two-pronged approach" to anti-war activism: revolutionary tactics such as street protest and direct actions, and reformist efforts such as petitions and political campaigns.

Duff feels that the college-age generation's strength is in the second category. "We're less radical, but more reasonable than Vietnam War-era protesters," he says. "People are a lot more willing to play into the system than they were in the '60s. That may be impacting what we're seeing in terms of activism and people out on the street, because they feel like they're more effective doing things from their homes. I think we have a better idea of what we can accomplish."

The campus anti-war effort gained some momentum in the fall of 2002, when UO students and faculty members, led by biology professor Frank Stahl, pushed to pass a university resolution against the Iraq War. "War always leads to lying, and universities, being dedicated to truth, have a stake in societies that respect truth," Stahl says.

UO President Dave Frohnmayer opposed the resolution on the grounds that international politics fell outside the purview of the university, just as UO President Robert Clark rejected an anti-war resolution in the '60s. But faculty members and students involved in the effort laid the groundwork for an anti-war coalition on campus. UO employees against the Iraq War organized as Concerned Faculty for Peace and Justice, and anti-war students founded Students for Peace.

Concerned Faculty began distributing educational materials, and Students for Peace led marches and rallies on campus. On Feb. 15, 2003, students were among the 3,000 Eugeneans who demonstrated against the impending Iraq War in solidarity with more than 10 million people across the globe. A month later, local high school students staged an anti-war walkout.

But on Mar. 22, 2003, two days after the Iraq War began, only about 500 people showed up for a protest at the Federal Building. Later that spring, Students for Peace dissolved without explanation.

"Initially, there was a lot of energy trying to prevent the war from becoming official," Howard says. "That felt a little more like the momentum that was there during the Vietnam War era. But as soon as we didn't get what we wanted in the exact form we wanted it, we kind of abandoned the movement."

One of the most daunting aspects of anti-war organizing is the task of bringing together groups with different perspectives. That was as true during the Vietnam War as it is today. "There wasn't just one anti-war movement then, and there isn't one anti-war movement now," Malcolm says. That works in the community, she says, because different groups bring a range of perspectives to the movement.

But factionalism is frustrating for students who are trying to pull together a cohesive anti-war movement on campus. "We're trying to encourage diversity, but it's difficult to have a united front against the war when people want to see different results at the end of the protests," Howard says.

While community activists remain rooted in Eugene, students come and go. Even during the height of the Vietnam War years, when close to one-fourth of the UO student body was involved in protest activities, the activity levels of campus groups waxed and waned. Student leaders rose, energized the student body, and then left.

"A lot of students see themselves as activists for about four years, or whatever time they are students," Howard says.

UO students and faculty members gather in the EMU amphitheater for an anti-war rally.

Other factors play a part in suppressing student activism. For one, Howard says, young people are discouraged by the enormity of the social problems — such as racism, two-party politics and globalized corporate rule — that create war. "Everything is so interconnected," she says. "You tug one end and you're just going to pull so many other strings. We can't push for one thing without the others being attached."

All of these hurdles leave Howard feeling exhausted. "I hope to be hopeful, if that makes any sense," she says. "I don't think that it's going to get better anytime soon, but I have to imagine that things will improve in some capacity. Otherwise there's no reason for me to be doing what I'm doing."

UO student Scott Gibbs, 23, is personally opposed to the Iraq War but chooses not to act against it. He feels that individual consumption choices — what to buy, how to commute — are more effective than organized movements in creating social change. "You can lose your own values in the group mentality," he says. "I think it's more of an individual struggle that people need to take on."

Gibbs acknowledges that he grew up with more material comforts than his parents, and that affluence might have affected his hands-off approach to politics. "The Vietnam War activists probably say that we're a more spoiled generation, and it's easier for us to just sit back and not take an active voice," he says. "But then again, I don't know if that's because we are spoiled or maybe because it's too hard to decide what the right thing is anymore."

For Gibbs, the Vietnam War protests were less of an inspiration than a lesson in futility. "I don't know if the people protesting the Vietnam War had that much of an influence," he says. "It's easy to feel hopeless in the world today, because what can a single person do against so many other people? There's so much damage that's been done. I'm not really angry as much as I am confused and questioning my own ability to fit into this greater picture of 'What can I do?'"

That's an attitude that Malcolm is working to change. "How do you measure how much worse it would have been without protest?" she asks. "You can have a victory, and the victory can turn very sour. But you have to believe in your heart that it still matters. You have to believe that there's something in the human spirit that cannot be negated by what happened next."

Regardless of their age or political views, every source interviewed for this story agreed on one thing: the draft agitated the youth in the '60s against the Vietnam War, and a renewed draft today would probably galvanize young people against the Iraq War.

"I've basically spent my adult life opposing the draft and draft registration, but I have to wonder, if there were an equitable draft, if there wouldn't be more opposition to the war than we have now," Malcolm says.

The draft is a powerful catalyst for activism because it makes a distant war personal. "People will be pretty comfortable with things as they are until they see a direct connection between the war and themselves," Duff says. "We're very capable of being active and trying to change the system, but it's going to take personal involvement in the consequences of war in the way that it did in the '60s. We don't live in a bubble, and if we don't act early, we're always going to be too late."

Asked if he would be more active against the war if there were a draft, Duff looks sheepish. "I'm opposed to the war now, but I would be more involved in the antiwar movement" if there were a draft, he admits. "Which is kind of sad."

Local activist Carol Van Houten, 67, views today's college students as more conservative and career-oriented than students in the '60s. The result, she says, is an aging activist population in sore need of youth leadership. "We need young people more committed to learning the skills of organizing," she says. "Us old farts need to get out of the way and let younger people take some roles, because we need that energy and creativity. Otherwise we're stuck with the same-old same-old."

Van Houten is sympathetic to the economic burdens that modern young people carry. She says that today's students are leaving college saddled with more debt, women are working more, and families are more stressed than in the '60s. "We could move in and out of the work force, and that has really changed," she says. "I think there's a fear of job insecurity. And there isn't the energy left for activism."

But Malcolm senses a shrewdness among today's youth that was largely absent during the Vietnam War years. "We thought the process of social change could be accomplished over a relatively short period of time, and I don't think anybody feels that now," she says. "There are still plenty of idealistic young people who have a sense of what a just society ought to look like, but nobody could be deceived about the power of the state at this point."

Rather than feeling discouraged, Howard applies the lessons from the Vietnam War protests to her peace work today. "Activists before us have uncovered things that gave us the ability to see more clearly," she says. "Hopefully other people will learn from us and be able to take it further than we did."

Malcolm takes heart in the knowledge that there is still massive global opposition to the Iraq War. "I'm assuming that the 10 million people who opposed the war going into it continue to think that it's a dreadful thing," she says. "And it's important to remember that 40 to 50 million people got through their fear and voted against Bush. I have a very strong sense of being part of something way bigger than myself that existed before me, will exist after me, and exists internationally. I just have to do my part; I don't have to do it all."

Malcolm hopes that activists will continue staging demonstrations in the street, hosting community education events and working on media reform — while taking the time to breathe.

"War itself is not the problem; it a symptom of a foreign policy bent on domination," she says. "I realized that I was going to have to be struggling against that my entire life, paid or unpaid. If I was making some sort of lifelong committment to justice and peace, then it was okay to take a weekend off."

Faced with a mess that wraps around the globe, Duff chooses to focus on his own form of activism: writing for local, alternative media. "I just have to keep doing my thing, whether it's going to result in the change I want to see or not," he says. "If we believe in that change, that's all we can do."

Howard suggests that activists avoid feeling overwhelmed by focusing on the local. "A lot of times it's more romantic to be working on an international cause," she says. "It's important to provide solidarity, but there are people here in our own neighborhood who are struggling."

Even as she warns against putting too much emphasis on the past, Howard gleans inspiration from the tenacity of the Vietnam War protesters. "I can't expect other people to pick up my fight because I'm too tired to fight it," she says. "The legacy of the '60s reminds me, 'Hey, if you don't like it, get out and do something about it.'"

Barely more than a rumor trickles through campus: that there will be a rally against the Iraq War in the EMU amphitheater on Nov. 12 at 3 pm. UO student Sara R. Taylor, 25, organized the event on her own impulse. "I'm trying to get different organizations here to work together to create an anti-war movement," she says.

On the day of the rally, about three dozen people show up and wait for something to happen. Several students hold signs, and one woman splatters an American flag with red paint. Bo Adan, a ponytailed member of the UO Concerned Faculty for Peace and Justice, leans against his bike and offers heartening words to those disappointed by the small turnout.

"Anything that's important will start small because it's a radical idea," he says. "The Civil Rights movement started small. César Chávez's labor movement started small."

Ana Rolka, 19, a student of English and medieval studies, looks worried but resolute. "I can't believe that people aren't protesting the war more," she says. "I'm very upset about how most people my age are apathetic about everything."

Mandee Bish, 19, a pre-law student, chimes in. "Maybe it'll take more time," she says softly. "I think we haven't seen something like the Vietnam protests for so long that we don't know how to organize. I want to see people in the streets. I want to see the war end. People like my mom will say, 'War is a part of life.' But I can't let this happen in my name and on my watch."

The struggle goes on.    

Part II next week: Former Congressman Jim Weaver discusses the challenges politicians face opposing a war in progress, Carol Van Houten talks about how technology is changing the anti-war movement, and Marion Malcolm and Dan Goldrich continue their conversation about Vietnam, Iraq and Eugene's activist community.

ANTI-WAR RESOURCES

COMMUNITY:

- Faith in Action holds weekly anti-war vigil on Federal Building on Wednesdays at 4:30 pm: Contact Gordie Albi, 344-8047

-Code Pink, a women's activist network: Contact Elissa Kobrin at saharapdx@hotmail.com

- Progressive Responses, a CALC program the war, international policy and homeland security: Contact CALC, 485-1755.

- Beyond War: Contact Gayle Landt, 485-0911. www.beyondwar.org

- Physicians for Social Responsibility: Contact Dr. Martin Jones, 485-5762

- Committee to Counter Military Recruitment, a project of CALC and Eugene PeaceWorks: Contact Carol Van Houten, vanhoute@onlink.net or Phil Weaver, eugpeace@efn.org

- Draft, Registration and Military Counseling Project, a CALC project:

Contact Carol Van Houten, vanhoute@onlink.net, or call CALC, 485-1755

- Eugene Middle East Peace Group: Contact Ibrahim Hamide,

ibmaha@comcast.net or Arwen Maas-DeSpain, arwen@darkwing.uoregon.edu

- Eugene PeaceWorks: Contact Phil Weaver, 345-8548

- Friendly Neighbors for Peace: Contact Carrie Ann Naumoff, 344-7133

- Justice Not War: Contact Karla Cohen, 606-2877.

- Lane County Bill of Rights Defense Committee: Contact Hope Marston, hmarston@epud.net

- Teachers Against War: Contact Roscoe Caron, caron@4j.lane.edu or Pete Mandrapa, mandrapa@msn.com

- Women's Action for New Directions (WAND): Contact Susan Cundiff, scundiff@rio.com

CAMPUS:

- Survival Center: Contact Emily Howard, 346-4356

- Buddhists for Peace: Contact bfpuo@yahoo.com

- Concerned Faculty for Peace and Justice: Contact Frank Stahl, fstahl@molbio.uoregon.edu

- The Insurgent: Contact editors at 346-3716