On the bridge again

We went to the bridge again last night, carrying candles to stand in vigil and protest on the fourth anniversary of the beginning of the Iraq war. The candles were not much use, as daylight savings time has begun, and the sun doesn't set until after 7:30, but we stood in the biting March wind as it swept down the Mississippi, in company with a hundred or two others of all ages, shapes and sizes.

The Lake Street bridge over the Mississippi is designated as a Peace Bridge, and every Wednesday afternoon sees a vigil for peace, which began as a protest against sanctions many years ago. Sanctions then, war now, the same bloody, evil policies of a government, our government, that sees power as a blunt instrument to batter those who will not bow.

This is not the Zocalo in Mexico City, filled with tens or hundreds of thousands of protesters, but it is one of our spaces for public standing. What has changed is not the commitment of the protesters, but the attitudes of those driving past. A few years ago, on a Wednesday afternoon, Molly and I stood there and counted the number of passing cars showing approval versus the number showing disapproval -- thumbs up or down, peace signs, honking. Most, of course, went by without a signal at all.

Tonight, I saw only a single thumbs-down and no middle finger salutes, but what was more remarkable was that the vast majority of all the people in cars driving past on Lake Street honked in agreement, showed peace signs, waved, gave a thumbs-up signal. I know the polls say that we-the-people overwhelmingly oppose the war, but here was the actual, physical sign. The people have changed, the votes have chagned Congress--and yet the war continues.

We cannot stop at vigils, when they do not change realities. What's next?