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EXPLAINING THE DUTY OF A CHRISTIAN AMERICAN by ELIZABETH GRISWOLD So last week I jokingly told some of my friends, "The next time you hear from me, I'll be a hardened criminal." Well, my first arrest took place May 20, around 2pm, on the property of the Vandenberg Air Force Base up in Santa Barbara County. As you faithful Agitator readers should know, our commu-nity made protesting the National Missile Defense program our focus during Lent, and the culmination of the season was last weekend's action at the base. Community members Brian, Jeff, Liz, and I, along with two fellow protesters, Scott Galindez and Marcus Page, arrived in the wee hours of the morning, hiked onto the base, gathered together in prayer and reflection, and spent the better part of the day respectfully enjoying the land, trying to bring a spirit of peace to protest the destructive war-making done there in the name of missile defense. We were arrested, as planned, after spending ten hours in the beautiful Vandenberg back country. We did this action believing, as Henry David Thoreau claims in his essay "On the Duty of Civil Disobedience," that "a people, as well as an individual, must do justice, cost what it may." We then spent 37 hours in jail, in three different holding facilities, with seven hours in transport riding shackled on the bus before going to court. In many different ways, I have had to explain why I participated in this action. All this discussion of arrests and jail time aside, for me the real issue does come down to standing up for peace and justice, cost what it may. My mother and father do not believe that this method of protest is either the most effective or the safest for me, and they worry about my future and that is understandable. However, I feel blessed with the freedom and opportunity that I have in my life right now to be able to take personal risks to stand up for what I believe. I know that I feel that way particularly because of the support of this community. It has been so wonderful to come back from jail to a home where people pray powerfully for you and your peace work, to go back to work at the soup kitchen the next morning and have folks clap as you walk through the door, to feel the beautiful essence of the whole Catholic Worker resistance struggle surrounding you, and to know that you are a part of something momentous. Explaining what I was going to do to some of my friends whom we serve downtown was also a little difficult. Many of them have been to jail, and they did not want the innocent, young, white girl to go through that experience. In their endearingly protective ways, they tried to dissuade me: "No, Isabel, no quieres ir al carcel. No es un bueno lugar para ti." Another friend of mine turns up religiously for the soup line every Wednesday night, but never eats. He just comes for the companionship and was quite disturbed by the fact that I may be absent from a few soup nights in the coming months. As I tried to explain, he just kept repeating, "Why didn't you just stay home and pray for an end to the missile defense program? Don't you think God will answer your prayers? Don't you think that prayer is enough?" I had to answer very straightforwardly, "Well, no, I do not think that prayer alone is enough." Yet that statement itself was enough to throw his fundamentalist ideology for a loop. So I further explained, "Don't you think that action is required as well? Would you rather I had stayed home tonight and just prayed that people wouldn't be hungry, stayed home and prayed that you wouldn't be lonely to-night?" More broadly, without action, would our world become a bet-ter place on its own or through divine guidance? I personally do not believe so. There were also other difficult explanations to be made. The counter-protesters at Saturday's rally came out dressed in red, white, and blue and waving American flags, proudly doing what they thought was best in showing their support for Armed Forces Day. They claimed that we should be thanking the troops facing us in riot gear for protecting our First Amendment rights to protest. Yet the sticky part of that argument for me is its circularity; they seem to think that because these troops supposedly de-fend our right to protest, we therefore should not be protesting. However, when faced with the knowledge of what goes on at that base knowing of the tests that take place there, each at a sum of ap-proximately $100 million, knowing that they are attempting to create a system of missile defense that even leading scientists say will not work, and knowing that its creation will violate international arms reduction treaties, thereby probably prompting a new arms race, I am not content to sit idle with my rights to free speech I feel compelled to exercise them. Some people I encountered during the course of this whole event did not want to hear any explanation for my actions. The Kern County sheriffs seemed too preoccupied with bullying us around to be interested in the peaceful reasons of why, in the middle of the night, a disheveled group of ten protesters had tres-passed on federal property and made them work late. It seemed unfa-thomable enough to one guard that the four of us even lived together. After repeatedly asking me my ad-dress and repeatedly receiving the same answer as my community members gave, she declared, "Well since you like to lie, we'll lock you up in shackles first!" But I would still like to hold out hope that this sister of mine may somehow appreciate the very naturalness of living in community with fellow nonviolent activists and carrying out that non-violence together. In the meantime, though, I am left to ponder how, as members of a single human family, we could be so divorced from one another that we cannot relate to each other beyond the social contrivances set up in the criminal courts system, in which we act as opponents. These opposi-tional roles only intensify with the missile defense system, in which sisters and brothers whose countries are not even currently at war relate to each other only as enemies need-ing some kind of shield to keep us "safe" from one another. In this whole turn of events, each plays the role she or he was given or actively chose: my parents cast me in the role of beloved daughter; my com munity cast me in the role of a bold but green one; my downtown friends, of a confused damsel; the counter-protesters and guards, of an ungrateful rabble-rouser; my bumbling public defender, of an annoying questioner; the judge and prosecutor, of a defendant to be put away. The truth is that, in a way, I am all of these things. I also try to hold in tension the delicate balance between the roles of political activist versus servant of the poor. Obviously, the two need not be mutually exclusive, but when determining the future course of action for court proceedings, hard questions arise. Should I keep my public defender to remain in solidarity with the poor or go with a private attorney with more experience in this field? Do I proceed with the new-fangled tactics of court solidarity, that arose with the recent mass protests in Seattle and Los Angeles, in hopes of getting off with less time, or stick with Hennacy House/Catholic Worker tradition of exhibiting a sort of Gandhian truth and taking what comes? I strive to allow for a blending that honors all of these ideas. Each time I've had to explain this action to others it has helped me understand a little bit better myself. I remember hearing once that the Berrigans said that they went out and did the actions, and then William Stringfellow wrote and explained for them why they did it. This week, in reading Thoreau's essay "On the Duty of Civil Disobedience," I humbly felt as if he best explained for me why I did this action. Thoreau writes that if injustice "is of such a nature that it requires you to be the agent of injustice to another, then, I say, break the law. Let your life be a counter friction to stop the machine. What I have to do is to see, at any rate, that I do not lend myself to the wrong which I condemn." I am proud to try to live as a counter friction to the war machine, and I felt compelled to act out against this proposed missile defense program to take a firm stand for justice. Though I am scared of what sort of punishment the government may dole out to me and intimidated just by the case title of "United States v. Griswold," I am encouraged by reading, "It is not desirable to cultivate a respect for the law, so much as for the right." I try not to fear the law's punishment, and to bring to mind Dorothy Day's statement to the effect that Christians should fill the jails, and that that kind of solidarity with those suffering in prison can only lead to more compassionate and bold action on their behalf. By trespassing on the base in the way that we did, we tried to make the point that fancy military surveillance systems designed to protect against foreign invaders seem pretty silly when a rag-tag group of protesters can easily enter the base and breach security. We attempted to bring a spirit of peace to this military base, by laughing and singing and playing and praying, by telling stories and reclaiming the land. When faced with the knowledge of this missile defense plan and the opportunity to speak out against it, I knew that I had to do something, to stay true to myself, to my conscience, and to my principles of peace. So while I continue to try to explain what I did, to others and especially to myself, reflecting on the roles we play and drawing on the inspiration of some great resisters, I also amusedly recall that when I go into federal court next month it will be one year ago, to the day, that I went to my college graduation. I have chosen to receive a different kind of education here at the Los Angeles Catholic Worker, and I am doing pretty well apparently, as a member at one of our sister houses pointed out, since my report card came back with two A's and a B (representing the classes of our misdemeanor charges for trespassing and conspiracy). When I think of our action it helps me to keep in mind what Thoreau said about small beginnings, "For it matters not how small the beginning may seem to be: what is once well done is done for-ever." This action has been done forever, and I just trust that what makes it well done is that the expla-nation for it all is, ultimately, the cause of peace. In 2001 Elizabeth Griswold was a member of the LA Catholic Worker community. |
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FOLLOWING YOUR HEART by Liz Wyrsch I am beginning to write this article a few days before October 15th, our sentencing date for our May 20th arrest at Vandenberg Air Force Base. We went to Vandenberg in a spirit of peace, in a form of prayer in opposition to Missile Defense. For me it was a way to acknowledge my resposibility for bringing about peace. Claiming tht resposibility led to an arrest. Pleading 'not guilty' led to a trial. Explaining the action ended with a guilty verdict. The verdict came on August 2nd, along with the date for sentencing. Sentencing seemed like it would never come but it came. Am I prepared? Not really but I do know there are a few ideas I want to express. I want to explain that going to Vandenberg continues to transform me leading me down a path for peace which seems limitless. I want to explain that going to Vandenberg brought me to a strength that encourage me to cry out 'Peace Not War' in the new world situation regardless of the overwhelming sentiment for retaliation. I want to make clear that I am humbled by this strength knowing tht it is no mine alone but it is to be shared with everyone. So now it is the day after sentencing. I'm writing from my room at the LA Catholic Worker house, not from jail which had seemed like such a real possibility. When we arrived in the courtroom the scene was remarkably similar, the same Judge, the same prosecutor and the same rows and rows of supporters which were seen with much gratitude. Supporters included the LA Catholic Worker extended community, fellow peace activists, closely loved friends and even the 17 Greenpeace activists who had a court appearance later in the afternoon. We the defendants each made a statement explaining how we felt about our action, how we might participate in similar actions in the future and how we would not pay a fine for our consciences would not allow us. Regardless of our statements, the Judge pronounced his predetermined sentence. Scott, due to his record even though he only has one conviction, was sentenced to three months incarceration beginning October 29th. Marcus was sentenced to one year of supervised probation. Brian, already having served 3 months in jail, and I were sentenced to one year of supervised probation and a $500 fine. Since we will not pay the fine and will not completely comply with probation, maybe the consequences of this action are still not resolved. While I am thinking of these possible consequences I am also thinking of other remarks in the courtroom. The prosecutor described us as young, immature, arrogant and specifically called me a follower. I think of those who I am accused of following and realize how they have influenced me. Jeff has an unyielding commitment to peace which he is actively demonstrating in his 6 month jail sentence. Marcus openly embraces and expresses his love for humanity and for the world. Scott's incredible knowledge of international law and history of resistance shaped much of our trial. Brian constantly questions and implements what personal actions he must take to bring about peace. Elizabeth after critiquing the reality around us is able to clearly articulate her beliefs against war and for peace. Yes I did follow them all, will follow them again and am honored to know that sometimes they followed me too. Are we all arrogant? After sentencing I approached the prosecutor to ask her to clarify why she believed us to be arrogant. She met this question with a matter of fact reply 'Because you are'. I certainly do not feel arrogant. On the contrary I always feel 'Who am I to advocate so boldly for peace?' Maybe speaking so uncompromisingly for peace without being sure of many concrete ways to truly bring peace here on Earth or in Space can be seen as a little arrogant. But I will continue to work for peace. I will continue to lead, continue to follow and continue to invite others into this peace as our action at Vandenberg continues to unfold. In 2001 Liz Wyrsch was a member of the LA Catholic Worker community. |
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.................. Meanwhile, the GreenPeace activists charged with felonies took a plea bargain in January 2002 :Mother Jones has an article on this solution to their court case. |