A PATRIOT DIRGE: March of Silence

Payback
An Uncertain Future
Tempered Optimism

The word went out, the world took heed and everyone that is good and wise said "Yes."

The hallowed halls of congress were rife with rumors, accusations and talking points as the House Judiciary Committee prepared for hearings on what was dubbed "Operation Purge." Representative Maggie Thomas of Washington State took her assigned post three chairs to the left of Chairman John Conyers (D-MI).

The first witness called was Homeland Security chief Michael Chertoff. In the manner we have come to expect from officials in the Bush administration, Chertoff consumed forty-five minutes with creative evasion.

The thin man with hollow cheeks, beady eyes and a shiny bald dome, famed for his inane verbosity, entertained the spectators with tricks of obfuscation. He denied any specific knowledge of the circumstances regarding Roy Jones or Miguel Estrada. His responsibility was confined to administrative oversight; he was not involved in cases on the ground. He admitted only a general knowledge of the Independent Movement and its founder Roman Mason. He could not comment on an investigation in progress.

It was reminiscent of any number of Bush administration testimonies before congress: Attorney General John Ashcroft on domestic surveillance, Attorney General Alberto Gonzalez on the political firing of Justice Department personnel, Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld on war policies, Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice on weapons of mass destruction and Director of Central Intelligence George Tenet on the abuse of intelligence.

Thirty minutes into his testimony, Chertoff wiped the sweat from his brow and resumed an air of indifference. Representative Thomas reminded him that he was aware of the case before the committee and wondered how he could show up so blatantly unprepared.

"With all due respect, Congresswoman, I cannot comment on an investigation in progress."

On and on he droned, deflecting criticism, delivering lectures on the nature of security work, protecting the nation from nefarious actors, serving the nation and honoring the rule of law, without ever really saying anything.

"With all due respect," stated Representative Thomas, "I don’t think you or your colleagues in this administration – or indeed in this congress – have paid nearly enough attention to serving the nation and honoring the rule of law."

Again Chertoff wiped his brow, leaned forward to the microphone and said: "I resent the implications and tone of your remarks."

"And I resent that one of my closest friends and colleagues, a man of impeccable honor and integrity, a true American patriot, is locked up in an unknown location under your watch and I have no doubt under your orders."

Chairman Conyers intervened, half apologizing and half empathizing with his colleague for her personal involvement in the case. He did not allow Chertoff to make a clean exit however, expressing disappointment in the quality of his testimony and the forthrightness of his answers. He instructed Chertoff to provide a full account of the information he could not provide in writing within seven days or face contempt charges.

A series of Homeland Security officials followed Chertoff to the witness table, adding little to the proceedings until a middle-aged man of apparent Asian descent calmly entered the halls and swore to tell the truth.

He identified himself as Rhandir Pradesh but his clients and colleagues knew him as Agent Black. He spoke in the low, quiet tone of a proud man who was not proud of the part he had played but was ready to set the record straight.

He testified that he was placed in charge of the assignment they referred to as Operation Purge but was presented by Secretary Chertoff as Operation Squash – a reference to squashing a bug.

"Secretary Chertoff gave you the orders?"

"Yes."

"What exactly were those orders?"

"We were to take custody of five identified leaders of an organization known as the Independent Movement – Misters Roman Mason, John Sinclair, Amy Goodall, Roy Jones and Fredrick Prader – and an associate – Mister Miguel Estrada – simultaneously within a timeline of seven days. They were to be held in separate facilities under the umbrella of Homeland Security. I was told that the five organization leaders would not resist but that Mr. Estrada, an army private absent without leave, might be armed. We were to take every precaution that Mr. Estrada was not killed. It was my understanding that they intended to ‘turn’ Mr. Estrada to incriminate the others by offering amnesty and full citizenship.

"Did Mr. Chertoff explain why these individuals were being detained?"

"He identified the organization as a terrorist group, implicated in the bombing of their own facilities a week prior to the order."

"Did you agree with Mr. Chertoff’s assessment?"

"After examining the file, I did not agree."

"Did you communicate your misgivings to the Secretary?"

"I said nothing. A man in my position does not question his superior. But he understood."

"How do you know he understood?"

"There are ways to communicate one’s feelings without words."

Everyone in the crowded hearing room understood by the expression on the agent’s face. There was no pleasure in his giving testimony. There were only grave misgivings. He paused to clear his throat and take a sip of water.

"How did Mr. Chertoff respond to your misgivings?"

"He said the orders came from the president and he expected them to be carried out with due diligence."

"You were ordered to detain six individuals but you only detained two. Can you explain your apparent incompetence?"

"When agents do not believe in the case, it frequently happens that there are lapses in the execution of their duties."

Agent Pradesh, with the even-tempered patience of a trained professional, survived a series of attempts to impugn his character, including one congressman’s questions regarding his ethnic background, and left the chambers with his head held high.

Within a week Secretary Chertoff joined the legions of high-level officials to resign from the administration of George W. Bush: Colin Powell, George Tenet, Donald Rumsfeld, John Ashcroft, Alberto Gonzalez, Richard Perle, Paul Wolfowitz, Richard Clarke, Paul O’Neill, Lewis "Scooter" Libby, Karl Rove, Eric Shinseki, Anthony Zinni, Michael Brown, Larry Linsey, Ann Wright, John Kiesling, Scott McClellan, John Brown, Rand Beers, Karen Kwiatkowski, Charles Pritchard, Paul Redmond, Joanne Wilson, Martha Hahn, Rich Biondi, Alphonso Jackson on and on and on. Some were pushed out for not honoring the loyalty code; others were caught committing high crimes and misdemeanors, while still others could no longer recognize themselves in the mirror.

The only recognizable figures left in the inner circle of the Bush White House were Josh Bolten, Andrew Card and Condoleezza Rice. It was a tragic story of an infectious disease or a malignant cancer that consumed everything and everyone within its reach.

It would almost be worthy of tears if not for the knowledge that the administration’s demise set good men and women free.

Roy Jones and Miguel Estrada were released. Estrada was granted a pardon, an honorable discharge and full rights of citizenship in exchange for his silence on the "harsh interrogation" techniques used in his confinement. He could have pressed it but he wanted his freedom far more than he wanted revenge.

Even before its findings were published, the House Judiciary Committee issued an apology to Roy, Miguel and everyone associated with the Independent Movement. Amy, Rome and Sinclair returned to Seattle under their own names and were not accosted by any agent of the United States government.

Amy and Roy happily reunited. The organization they served to provide refuge to dissidents was severely compromised so they founded a new organization, above board with the same objectives through fundraising, lobbying, legal representation and public relations.

On the heels of the Juneau report Karl Rove was finally indicted for his part in the Valerie Plame affair, illegal wiretapping, election fraud and giving false testimony to congress. Other operatives of both parties were spared criminal indictment but the stain on their reputations was imprinted in the public record.

Lacking time and courage to initiate the impeachment process, both houses of congress managed to pass a blanket censure of the White House during the Bush years for demeaning the constitution and dishonoring the nation.

Candidates Obama and McCain issued condemnations, apologies and the standard disclaimer: If anyone involved in my campaign had anything to do with this case, not only will they be fired but prosecuted to the full extent of the law. The frightening thing was that both men seemed to believe they possessed that kind of authority.

Back in Seattle, the Independent Movement issued a call for a March of Silence in Washington D.C. not only to acknowledge the release of their colleagues but also to pave the way for the future of the movement.

"Once the bombs began falling on Baghdad, our government all but demanded that we honor a code of silence. We were not silent then and we will not be silent now. And yet, in a world where the language of irony is lost like an ancient tongue never committed to tablet, perhaps the best answer lies in a language they are not familiar with: A March of Silence.

"Let us gather together in tens and thousands, to drape ourselves in solemn black, to march in deafening silence, to dissent in silence, to mourn in silence, to cry out in silence for those who can longer cry out and to honor the silence of oppression and death."

So the activists of the Independent Movement put out the word and the people responded. They came by the tens and hundreds, they reported by the thousands, ready and willing to play their part.

In late September, two months before the presidential election, a mass of citizens draped in black converged on Lafayette Park in Washington. They lined up, shoulder to shoulder, line after line, and marched step by step in funereal procession down 17th Street, past the White House to Constitution Avenue and on to Lincoln Memorial on the National Mall.

On the steps of the Memorial where once Martin Luther King Jr. stood, speakers addressed a growing mass of solemn, silent protestors. They decried the inherent corruption of the two-party system and the folly of perpetual pragmatism: the lesser of two evils.

Rome was the last to speak.

"We are not here to celebrate a victory. We have not ended the war in Iraq. We are no closer to ending the occupation of Afghanistan. Blood is being spilled in our names even as we gather here today.

"We have not ended the reign of corporate government or the corruption that dominates our political process. We have not restored the Bill of Rights, the principle of Habeas Corpus or confidence in our democracy.

"But we have made a start. We are cautiously optimistic. We only ask that you do not depart from this gathering, this place of historic wonder, this monument to freedom, this symbol of justice and democracy, thinking that we have accomplished something great.

"We ask that you do not forget the crimes of authority, the abuse of power that brought us together on this occasion. It is important to look back in anger at what became of our nation when we were too busy or too hungry to pay attention and engage. It is as important to look back in anger, as it is to look forward in hope.

"A great man, a citizen of the world and one of our most heroic founders, once said: We have it in our hands to make the world anew.

"What happened today is monumental. But what happens tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, after we return to our homes and cities across the nation, will determine whether this great experiment of American democracy will endure."