A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to an Election
(It wasn’t democracy)
http://progressivearmy.com/2017/08/02/the-democratic-national-convention-one-year-later/
Excerpt:
The real excitement was on the floor, with the delegates and their protests, but they were far down below. Up where we were, ushers came around with signs for each speaker that we were to wave as they spoke. When they finally distributed Bernie signs in anticipation of his speech to close the night, I dared to wave mine while Warren was still speaking. The usher came back and stopped me. She left. I did it again. She saw me and motioned. “I’ll get in trouble!” she said. Even in the way back row at the top, where cameras were sure to never find us, Truman-Show rules were strictly in force.
When Bernie finally got to the podium, the ovation was deafening and went on for so long that, several minutes in, even he was wagging his hands to get us to stop. We refused: this was our only officially-sanctioned, TV moment and we were going to make the most of it. What else was there in Convention-land? After thanking the volunteers, the delegates, those who voted and donated, and his family, Bernie went on to do the heretical for an infotainment program: he mentioned the 1%. Then he said the word “poverty.” He talked about the grotesque levels of wealth and income inequality, the need to overturn Citizen’s United, break up the banks, oppose the Trans-Pacific Protocol and combat climate change. He did the whole “Hillary Clinton understands” bit, subtly trying to lock in his ideas. For those of us who’d worked on the campaign, we knew those ideas by rote, but in this context, it was a different thing altogether. For one half-hour, it was almost like we were at an event that had something to do with real politics. He tucked his endorsement of Clinton quickly at the end and quickly scooted off the stage. We got out as quickly as we could as well into the humid Philadelphia night. At least the rain had stopped.
We wouldn’t see the inside of the convention again.
Film credit: Kurt Hackbarth (with commentary in Spanish)
Things to Do in Philadelphia When You’re Expelled from the DNC
Denied entrance to the DNC in the days that followed, we took to the streets, joining in the marches that swept down South Broad Street to FDR Park. There, we heard from the Sanders delegates about the machinations that were being used to silence them inside the arena: revoked credentials, lights being turned out, signs ripped out of hands, the delegate walk-out after the roll-call vote, the Clinton delegates’ telling choice of counter-chants (“USA!” used to drown out “No More War”?). We listened to speakers outside of City Hall and swapped stories with people from across the country. We wandered into the Marriott to watch the roll-call vote in the bar. I got to take a picture with Rosario Dawson. Mostly, though, we watched the cars pile up on the slow-motion wreck that was the Clinton 2016 campaign, the one that couldn’t possibly lose until it found a way to do precisely that.
If a week is a long time in politics, a year is an eternity. Last year’s TPP fight, for instance, seems to have faded into the past – that is, unless Trump resurrects it under a different name. But the one thing that hasn’t seem to have changed is the Democratic hierarchy’s stubborn unwillingness to look itself in the mirror. If our experience in Philadelphia is any indication, it will be a slow and painful process – if it happens at all. It could start by learning to keep its word.
