Convention Protesters Get Own Zone, Signal Lights San Diego Police Head Off Violence-With Careful Dissent Management
The traffic light controlling slots at the “First Amendment Platform” turned red, and more than 1,000 Chicano demonstrators began an orderly exit to make way for the gay crowd already marching down the street.
Helicopters hovered as member of Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender Voices ‘96 strode, chanting, into the official protest zone across the street from the convention center where Republicans were meeting.
The new group surged past the socialist and Maoist book tables, the abortion-rights feminists in pink T-shirts, the Jewish talkshow host protesting a restaurant outside Dachau, the farm worker with a Cesar Chavez button on his hat, and the guy who wants to replace Congress with telephone voting.
Tailing behind were three preachers shouting, “Repent!” to people they alternately referred to as “homos,” “lesbos” and “child molesters.”
That’s when the beach police stepped in the cacophonous maw. A dozen officers, wearing Bermuda shorts, shades and helmets, positioned their bicycles into a barrier separating the clashing protesters. A mediator chatted with the preachers, and as they turned to leave - agreeing they had made their point - an officer said gently: “I hope we’re not rushing you to go.”
Thousands of demonstrators of all stripes have converged here during the Republican National Convention. While sometimes it feels like what one mediator described as “trying to herd water,” the city is determined to head off confrontations through state-of-the-art dissent management.
It has channeled protesters toward a two-acre parking lot converted into a Southern California version of Hyde Park, complete with telephones on wheels, portable toilets, loudspeakers, a first-aid tent, a sign-in booth and potted palms for ambience, all surrounded by a 10-foot chain link fence. Police have issued permits for 55-minute protests with 15-minute breaks to change crowds.
Federal and city mediators flit from spot to spot trying to defuse tension between passionate, opposing camps.
Nothing symbolizes the drive for structure and efficiency more than the traffic light behind the speaker’s podium. Each protest slot begins with a green light. Yellow signals that there are five minutes before time runs out. When the red comes on, the microphone goes dead.
The whole effect has as much in common with protests from the raucous ‘60s and early ‘70s as shopping malls do with small-town Main Streets. It seems to be working, but not everyone thinks this is what protesting is supposed to be.
“I’m not sure you can put protest in a can,” said Daniel Thomas, a volunteer host at the site, wearing a vest with an American flag on the front and a target on the back.
Many demonstrators described the official protest zone as an un-American attempt to control dissent.
“They’re trying to cordon it off and push it to the side, rather than deal with the reality of dissent,” said Melvin Talbert, a Methodist bishop who arrived at the designated hour for the Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice.
Others pronounced it efficient, and praised police for being unobtrusive as they wandered through the crowds smiling and nodding.
Still, some protesters have shunned the official site and headed for the streets. Delegates leaving the convention center have been greeted by an AIDS-education activist dressed as a 7-foot-tall prophylactic, a Lyndon LaRouche disciple urging the impeachment of Pennsylvania Gov. Tom Ridge, and a gay square dancer handing out invitations to a hoedown.