We marched on Saturday under what the Italians refer to as a cielo velato, or veiled sky of hazy sunshine. We marched ten kilometers from the hillside town of Monteprandone down to San Benedetto, the coastside town where we have spent many lazy summer days. Our daughter Alesssandra remembered the wonderful ice cream store near the public fountain where we gathered to hear the speakers, and like always, she had chocolate.
After a shuttle bus ride from where we parked at the bottom of the hill, we gathered in the parking lot of a church, surrounded by a sea of rainbow PACE flags. My husband Giorgio couldnt help but joke of the entirely different meaning these signs would have in San Francisco. Here in Italy, they hang off of nearly every balcony, and remind me in their number and import of all the American flag stickers on all those SUVs back home right after 9/11. He held aloft our hand-made Americans Against Bushs War sign. It was attracting a lot of attention. We saw Ales math teacher Marina, who couldnt have been more pleased at our bringing Alessandra. The Maestra wished out loud that she had encouraged more of the parents to attend. The fifth grade teacher and her brother each held up an end of their vinyl sign with basta! (meaning enough!) painted in shiny red. We saw our friend Silvia wearing a red Che Guevera t-shirt in the middle of a group holding up the 25 yard-long rainbow peace flag she had sewn. After the representatives of the various regions marched by holding up their medieval coat-of-arms on velvet banners, just like they do at the start of the summer Quintana celebration, we quietly started down the road en masse. I wasn’t sure what to expect; there was no chanting, no singing, just the normal bantering of Italians in a group. There were a few discussions of the war, but since we were all there in solidarity, with much the same viewpoint, these conversations ended quietly, with a general shaking of the head. Firefighters passed out liter bottles of water, thereby ensuring that no one would drop out due to thirst, just like they do in San Francisco for the Bay to Breakers marathon.
At one point, during the march, when the road quickly melted from the urban to the rural (as many roads do around here), I commented to Giorgio that this felt like we were just taking a week-end stroll, not like any kind of protest. There were no onlookers or counter-protesters clogging the streets, no traffic that had come to a halt as we passed, just a nonna or two hanging out a farmhouse window, a gaping toddler on a dusty driveway, a couple of big rigs passing by on the overpass honking their support. But it felt good to be doing it just the same, because it is the right thing to do, even if it felt a bit like spitting into the wind.
About halfway to San Benedetto, we were approached by a man who said in American-accented English, I saw your sign-I am one of the speakers today and I was wondering if you would come up on stage with me in a show of solidarity. We quickly agreed. It turns out that Robert is an Associate Professor of Political Science from aprominent East Coast University, which has set up a study abroad program under his direction here in Ascoli Piceno. Weve met several of his students before, even had a group of them up to the house last fall. But we had never met him personally. He was marching with his Swedish girlfriend, Lara, and I commented that I was suprised that none of the students were there. He told us that many of the parents have specifically asked that he not encourage them to attend these kinds of demonstrations. I wonder out loud if this is because they are concerned about their childrens safety as Americans abroad, and he quietly responds, no: its because most of their parents are Bush supporters. Many are or have been active in the military. Robert has lived in Italy on and off for many years, and he looks a bit like Al Pacino in the later Godfather years.
His speech was very moving, and well received: he is interrupted many times by applause. It is not subtle. He asks the demonstrators to remember that Bush is in office illegally, due to a hijacking and failure of the democratic process, and that there are many Americans who not only oppose the war, but the administration and its overall agenda as well. He spoke about how hard it is to be an American who loves his country, but abhors its policies, and about his anger at how a great country is abusing its power and subverting its beloved ideals to achieve its questionable goals. He talked about the very effective misinformation campaign the government has devised to mislead Americans into believing that waging this war is the only way to stabilize the entire middle east and end terrorism. He said that in America today, to be pacifist or an activist is to be considered unpatriotic and un-American, and that this is exactly what the Bush administration wants us believe so that they can pursue their agenda unopposed. He reminded us just how dangerous that kind of thinking is, of how much is at risk and what loss of hard-won freedoms it can lead to. He asked that we pray for a swift end to the occupation and safe return of the troops. He thanked them for coming out and for believing that they can make a difference as true allies for peace.
I find myself on the verge of tears several times as he is speaking, standing there holding our Americans against Bushs War" (the s of Bush having been made into a dollar sign). As we descend from the stage, I
am approached by an older gentleman wearing a peace bandanna and a clean but very worn suit and sweater vest, the uniform of Italian men of a certain age. He tells me in a simple but accurate English that he lived in New York 20 years ago as an Italian teacher. He loves New York, he thinks that Americans are wonderful people. He wept when the Twin Towers fell, remembering a dinner he attended there once. But now he fears, his voice breaking, that America is headed down the wrong path and he is afraid that it will not lead to just our own downfall, but to much more dire consequences for all the world. He has lived through war in his own country, he tells me, and Americans dont really know how terrible it is. He tells me that I must continue to let my government know that what they are doing is wrong. Now I am crying for real, and Giorgio and Robert come to my rescue, thanking the old guy for his support because I dont know what to say.
Robert tells us that he is going back to the U.S. in May so that he can actively do whatever he can to ensure that Bush will not be re-elected. He believes that what the old man said to me is more true than most of us are willing to believe, that we are at a very critical moment in not only American politics, but in world history and that it is the obligation of anyone who believes that the shift towards American imperialism and tyranny is ill-fated to do whatever they can to turn the tide. Were sad because just as we make a new friend, a like-minded well-informed American, hes going to leave. But I am secretly glad to know that he will be on American soil to fight for his convictions. Even if 70% of Americans claim to support the war, its comforting to know that guys like Robert make up a portion the 30% who dont.
After taking the shuttle bus back to the starting point and getting in the car, Alessandra discovers she has a nasty blister on one foot. She told us that when she felt like giving up during the long walk-probably the longest she has ever been on- she thought of the Iraqi mothers she saw crying on television for their children who had died in the market bombing. They suffered more than this, and their babies died. She doesnt understand why anyone would want a war, and we are hard pressed to explain all the complex reasons why. Giorgio says that hes not sure that those kind of images are making it onto the American news. What is making on the news there, we are sure, are the images and stories of Iraqis who have suffered under Sadaams rule, Kurdish women whose faces look melted as a result of trying to scratch away the chemicals after being gassed. Both are real; both are wrong. The only thing I can think of is: there must be another way.
04/01/03
originally posted by: Susanne Saluti
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