Monday, October 24, 2005

The People Speak: Millions More Movement

The scene is almost surreal: Pan-African flag fluttering against the backdrop of the Capitol Rotunda, as if it is the Flag; reggae great Wyclef Jean singing “Bismillah ar-rahman ir-raheem” in his softly accented voice; the Capitol lawn full of Black people with fists raised saying “Black Power!” Is this a beautiful dream shortly to be interrupted by the sahoor alarm clock?

The National Capitol Police fumbling through my backpack remind me that it is not a dream. I am at the Millions More Event, in Washington, DC. The organizers of the Millions More Movement have, perhaps for dramatic effect, set up their stage immediately at the foot of the U.S. Capitol Building, and anyone wishing to enter the area is searched.

I am here to extend solidarity from the Pakistani people to Black people in their fight for justice. One of the ten points in the Millions More agenda was enough to draw me here: the reparations issue. Millions of black people died on board slave ships en route to the Americas; many more suffered and continue to suffer as a result of slavery and its aftereffects. As a Muslim, I know that there cannot be peace without justice. And justice demands that reparations be paid to the descendants of Black slaves.

When I finally get through security, I thrill to see Damu Smith, a longtime DC –based community activist at the mic. Damu personifies internationalism, and years ago lent a helping hand to Jamaat al-Muslimeen, when we organized a forum in Washington, DC, drawing parallels between the Native American, Kurdish, and Palestinian struggles. He is the founder of Black Voices for Peace, which was very vocal against the Iraq war from its inception. His voice emanates strength, as he names Bush a war criminal, and I almost forget that he is recovering from cancer.

The agenda of the Millions More Movement includes the issue of political prisoners as one of its ten points.

I am pleased to see Jamil El-Amin’s supporters everywhere, with pants drawn up to their ankles “wahabi-style,” and shirts which say “mujahideen” and “Free H. Rap.” Just feet away from the Capitol, they are energetically hawking the imam’s Revolution by the Book and Die Nigger Die. The books are going fast.

Representatives of Malachi York, Mumia Abu Jamal, and other political prisoners are present. A young woman from the Jericho Movement--which calls attention to the hundreds of Black political prisoners who remain in U.S. prisons after decades of imprisonment—hands me a flier with Assata’s picture, condemning the bounty placed on the sister’s head.

NOI women in hijab are everywhere. A young man in a turban sells roses. A man in a dazzling golden West African outfit strides by. Indeed, many of the event participants proudly sport colorful Afrocentric or African garb. The attire seems to signify pride in Africa and a deliberate departure from the mass culture of racist fashion designers.

In a tone reminiscent of the sixties, nearly all the speakers call for Black power. Red/Black/Green Flags—more than I’ve seen in one place--flutter in the breeze.

Numerous international representatives extend solidarity to the Millions More Movement: a representative of the Cuban government; Jamaican Prime Minister P.J. Patterson; and Native American leader-turned-Hollywood actor, Russell Means, who says, “I want to be a part of Farrakhan’s community.”

Women are among the most powerful speakers of the day:

Viola Plummer, of the African Support Organization, entreats the audience to compel “the lying, blood-sucking government of this country to remove the sanctions against Zimbabwe.” The sanctions, she says, are in place because Robert Mugabe took the land back. She ends with the stirring Pan-Africanist cry: “Free the land!”

Marlene Bastille, of the Haiti Action Network, beseeches the audience: “Haiti needs you. The people of Haiti are suffering. I am asking you to ask Haiti to free all prisoners of conscience. Haitians are the only ones [who are non-political prisoners--ed] held in this land indefinitely without trial.”

Eryka Badu comes to the mic. At first, she refuses to sing, speaking in such a sombre manner that the crowd falls silent—for the first time in several hours--taking in her stirring words.

“I am not my hair. I am not my skin. I am not my clothes. We forget we have the power of thoughts and words. “

“I’m not going to stand here and ask for reparations. I’ll be standing here another four hundred years.”

“I want you and me to stand in direct opposition to oppression, negativity. It’s time to realize you are the one with the power to change this world.”

“We have no more time. There will be no more leaders...The earth is tired. It’s ignorance to continue to hate each other. The revolution begins with you,” she tells the people.

A Black elder, who noticed me with pad and pen in hand, tells me he drove up for the day from Richmond, VA. Playing devil’s advocate, I ask him whether Farrakhan’s association with the event discouraged him from participating. “I’m not a Muslim,” he says. “But Farrakhan is the theological leader for all religions.”

Many of the orators blast the government’s criminal neglect in New Orleans. Ron Daniels, of the Center for Constitutional Rights, says, “We must make sure the Afrikan city of New Orleans is returned to the Afrikan people.”

Renowned rappers Chuck D (Public Enemy), Professor Griff, and Dead Prez are in attendance. Unlike the commercialized rappers, they have sacrificed big contracts and remain steadfast to the original message of rap, opposing racism and oppression.

Perhaps the most masterful delivery of the day is that of Attorney Malik Zulu Shabazz. He begins with the slogan: “Free all political prisoners!”

“Free Mumia! Is Mumia the real criminal, or is George Bush?”

“Free Jamil El-Amin! Is Jamil El-Amin guilty, or is it the criminals who allowed our people to drown in New Orleans?”

“How can you have a war on terror when George Bush hasn’t been arrested?” he continues, to thunderous applause and laughter.

Then the fiery young attorney brilliantly launches the delivery of a mock verdict: “How do you find George Bush on the issue of racism?”

“Guilty!” roars the crowd.

“How do you find George Bush on the issue of human rights?”

“Guilty!” is the unanimous cry.

“How do you find George Bush on handling New Orleans?“

“Guilty!” roars the crowd.

You can almost hear the gavel slamming down, as Malik thunders “Impeach George Bush!”

By this time, the fast is catching up with me, and I decide to take a rest, carefully collecting the folds of my sari, and join the brothers and sisters sitting on the grass to finish watching the event on a giant video screen a few blocks away from the stage.

Minister Donna Farrakhan takes the stage. Although I’d heard Farrakhan himself speak on many prior occasions, I’d never heard any of his family members. Her style of delivery resembles that of her father. A fiery speaker in her own right, her eyes sparkle as she rouses the crowd to welcome her father.

Farrakhan appears on the video screen, majestically making his way across a landing with his entourage of FOI. That he has preempted others to speak at this juncture in the program, and that he looks rather frail, walking with some difficulty, concerns me. But when he reaches the stage area and takes the mic, all sign of weakness are gone.

“I believe that we can charge the federal government with criminal neglect of the people of MS, LA, and TX,” he declares. “We can’t sue the federal government, but we can sue the Department of Homeland Security. I strongly believe that if the people on those rooftops had blond hair and blue eyes, they would not have waited five days.”

“We charge the government with criminal neglect,” he repeats.

“Now they are saying they won’t re-build the ninth ward,” he says, referring to the impoverished New Orleans district. “The government will never do for the poor and oppressed of this nation, unless and until we organize to make them to do it.”

“Are you sure you want a movement?” he asks. “Are you sure? If you are sure, then be ready for opposition. We are going to be tested by opposition.”

In a style that is uniquely his, he throws out ideas to the people, soliciting feedback—and gets it. He suggests the need for peoples’ ministries: a Ministry of Health and Human Service, a Ministry of Agriculture, a Ministry of Education, a Ministry of Defense, a Ministry of the Economy, a Ministry of Justice, and a Ministry of Information. The brothers and sisters around me are enraptured--clapping, cheering, and shouting encouragement. Farrakhan is clearly speaking to their needs. It is an engaged audience reminiscent of Malcolm’s.

The Ministry of Agriculture is needed, Farrakhan says, in order to provide for the people, as “the merchants of death, the pharmaceuticals and fast food industry, are not going to do it.”

The Ministry of Defense is needed, he says, because “Our people are natural born warriors, but they are fighting the wrong war.”

The Ministry of Justice is needed to counter the prison-industrial complex, and the Ministry of Information is needed to counter the propaganda of the likes of UPI and Reuters, he continues.

The people are thirsting for change. The suggestions for Ministries of Justice and Education draw the loudest cheers. The people do not view the government as theirs. No editorializing here.

Then, Farrakhan refers to the Democrats as the House Negroes. He seems to be proposing action independent of the two-party system.

Farrakhan ends his speech with comments about the international scene. He notes the hypocrisy of Blair, in offering to forgive some of Africa’s debt, when Britain has robbed Africa for decades. He calls on Caribbean nations to unite against foreign exploitation. He draws a powerful analogy between the Iraq war, and a contest between a quadriplegic who has been thrown in the ring to compete with the heavyweight champion. It is no big achievement if the heavyweight champion wins against the quadriplegic, he proclaims.

My final impressions: 1) The Millions More Movement went to great lengths to be as inclusive as possible, specifically inviting all races and genders to the event; Farrakhan spoke as an internationalist, invoking unity among black, brown, yellow, and poor people throughout the world, and emphasizing the issue of workers rights; 2) the event drew numbers far in excess of a million people, signifying a need among the people to take action, after New Orleans; 3) “Sunni” Muslims, Indo-Pakistani and Arab communities (my people) were still largely absent, demonstrating their lack of grasp of both U.S. history, natural allies, and the need to build bridges with the oppressed communities of the U.S.

Sunday, October 16, 2005

Behind the Scenes on September 24

Having spent years as an activist in the Washington, DC area, I’ve been fortunate enough to participate in dozens of protests in my time. I decided it was time to experience the protest from a new angle. And so, I volunteered to help out for 12 hours at the anti-war demonstration in Washington, DC, on September 24.

I was one of the lazy ones. Other volunteers had been up for 72 hours straight, setting up for the protest. Some volunteers had traveled from as far away as Alaska; others came from little known towns with bizarre-sounding names I’d never encountered.

I arrived for my volunteer duties at what seemed to me, a hideously early hour. At Freedom Plaza, buses were unloading protestors from many cities. The Plaza was already teaming with people. From here, the White House and the Washington Monument grounds—the focal points of the protest--were only a stone’s throw away.

As I walked from Freedom Plaza to the Ellipse, I was pleased to see the creative side of the anti-war movement in full swing: four activists were dressed in orange prison jumpsuits with Bush, Cheney, Rice, and Rumsfeld masks donned; two more activists posed as “Billionaires for Bush” (a man wearing a tuxedo and a woman wearing an evening gown and carrying a Saks-Jandel shopping bag); several people wearing Halliburton uniforms, and carrying a sign saying “Enough war, little man,” (no theatrics here, I think they actually worked for Halliburton, but were fed up with the lies); and a wise guy carrying a graphic placard juxtaposing “Good Bush/Bad Bush” (use your imagination).

Finally, I was at the volunteer booth for the ANSWER Coalition (one of two major coalitions organizing the march). There I was outfitted with a yellow security jacket, a badge identifying me as an official march volunteer, and a bright red bucket to carry through the crowd, collecting funds to defray the costs of the march.

I traversed the crowd, red bucket in tow, making mental notes to myself. The place was packed; the march was clearly a success. A young black sister, wearing head wrap, her fist in the air, responding to a speaker. A tall black brother, moving closer to the stage to hear Lynne Stewart when she spoke. A contingent of brothers dressed in striking African garb, walking proudly as a contingent toward the stage. A small group of young men in kaffiyas, having themselves photographed near the stage, while chanting “Allah hu-Akhbar” just quietly enough not to disturb the speaker on the stage. Americans wearing tee-shirts that said “We are all Palestinian;” one of ANSWER’s young black woman leaders on stage sporting another unique tee (my favorite): “Palestine will be free” (in English and Spanish).

All this in a sea of middle class white Americans.

As a person of color, I could not help but be struck by how few Black people and how few Muslims were at the march.

Cindy Sheehan was one of the first speakers to address the rally. She spoke in a voice permanently marked with longing for a son who would never return home to her. But, she seemed very relaxed, perhaps sensing the support of the people. She even made a few jokes.

Cindy’s immense sacrifice and courage had made their mark, and at least some of the turnout at the protest might be attributed to her. Cindy had single-handedly made it okay for the average, middle class white American to be anti-war. The tide had turned against Bush. But was this another anti-war movement disturbed only when it was American boys coming home in body bags, I thought to myself. Where were they when the Lancet reported that 100,000 Iraqi civilians had been killed in the war? Or when the horrors of Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo surfaced? Or when an entire Iraqi town, Falluja, was destroyed?

Eldridge Cleaver did not lie when he said “Racism is as American as apple pie.” An anti-war movement which doesn’t work hard to disassociate itself from racism, will inevitably be afflicted with it. (The same may be said of many Muslim communities and organizations in the U.S./U.K.) That racism is present in the anti-war movement was evident in the negotiations between ANSWER and United for Peace and Justice--the two major coalitions organizing the September 24 protest.

http://internationalanswer.org/
http://unitedforpeace.org/

ANSWER—which stands for “Act Now to Stop War and End Racism”--views the issues of war and racism as inextricably linked. In the days leading up to the protest, ANSWER had to fight to keep the issue of racism as one of the major demands of the demonstration.

ANSWER’S Brian Becker speaks softly but firmly. He does not back down from an issue he views as just. The war, he said, is a racist war in the following ways: 1) It is racist against the Arabs; 2) It is racist in terms of how Iraqis are presented; and 3) It is racist in terms of who is fighting. ANSWER was very consistent in its stance against racism, whether in New Orleans or in Iraq.

United for Peace and Justice (UFPJ) wanted to focus strictly on the war itself, and wanted to eliminate “racism” from the march agenda altogether. Becker and ANSWER, to their credit, stood firm in their demand that racism be included in the agenda, and eventually UFPJ capitulated.

I walked by rows of crosses, symbolizing graves of fallen servicemen, and realized that I had stumbled upon Camp Casey. It had been transplanted from Texas to the Washington Monument grounds. A group of women were busily preparing a long line of picket signs they would carry, each bearing the black-and-white photograph of a young fallen soldier.

There was an element of race, even in the success of Camp Casey. What if a black woman had been camped out in close proximity to Bush’s ranch? How long would she have been allowed to stay there before being tasered into submission? Or shot outright, like Sr. Assata? Because that is the treatment reserved for Afrikans in this country.

My thoughts were interrupted by the thunderous voice of British MP George Galloway. With his delightful accent, he blasted Bush’s illegal war. Exhibiting none of the preoccupations of American politicians, Galloway openly expressed support for the Palestinians.

Galloway was followed by former U.S. Attorney General Ramsey Clark. In his characteristic incisive and yet non-rhetorical manner, Ramsey Clark reminded the audience about the Iraqi dead, and the war crimes of the Bush administration. He repeated his call for impeachment.

Then Attorney Lynne Stewart took the dais to talk about attacks on civil liberties. She cited her own case as evidence of the clamp down on the rights of the accused, as well as on lawyers who chose to defend unpopular clients. I walked over to the stage area and met Lynne after her speech. I hugged her, marveling that she had not changed in appearance or manner, despite years of government prosecution and harassment. Always concerned about others, she mentioned not a word of her own personal suffering, instead asking me about Sami Al-Aryan’s case.

MAS Freedom Foundation’s Mahdi Bray spoke. Oddly, Bray started his speech by informing the audience that he had no interest in being invited to the White House. “How dare they speak of bringing democracy to places like Iraq while clamping down on our democratic rights here at home,” he thundered. He did not mention that his MAS Freedom Foundation had volunteered in a press conference (See NT dated July 27, 2005) to help DHS clamp down on those rights by turning in Muslim “extremists.”

Other speakers of note were Brian Becker, ANSWER’s National Coordinator; Etan Thomas, Washington Wizards Basketball player; and Jessica Lange, actress.

Then it was time to march.

ANSWER had prepared signs for march participants who hadn’t brought their own. One of the volunteers handing out the signs told me that people were vying for the “Impeach Bush.org” sign over the others on offer.

For the first time in my life, I was at a major, national protest—and not marching. My fundraising duties complete, I was instead busy taking down banners, boxing up materials, and picking up components of the security fence and covers from the outdoor audio system. In my spare moments, I distributed New Trend’s “Boycott Major Supporters of Zionism” fliers, which were well received.

http://newtrendmag.org/boycott.html

I found I had done well to stay at the ANSWER volunteer booth (instead of marching), as the streets were flooded with so many people that the march was immobilized for two and a half hours. Some people became impatient and jumped in front of other protestors who were already lined up to march. Brian Becker, said that the front of the march, where he and other ANSWER leaders were located, was left behind. The “front of the march” soon became “the middle of the march”--a first for him, he said with a smile.

The march under way, the Raging Grannies started singing, “Georgy Porgy, You’re all wrong...”
http://raginggrannies.com/

Meanwhile, I attained proficiency at hand truck operation, loading boxes, and crates of fliers and brochures onto the truck.

The march was—miraculously--permitted to pass right by the White House—something which had not been allowed since 9-11. The wrath of the protestors at the Bush regime was particularly evident as they passed this point.

The volunteers were under orders from Park Police to finish removing all the equipment by 10:00 pm. Around 8:00 pm, we were down to removing the last of the equipment from around the stage area, but everyone was starting to feel the long hours. We finished just before 9:00 pm. For me, it was an extraordinary and inspiring day, working alongside activists—many of them very young--dedicated to the cause of justice. It made me realize the enormous amount of organizing involved in bringing together 300,000 people for a mass march. But September 24 showed that it could be done.

Saturday, October 8, 2005

Code Pink Protest at Walter Reed Military Hospital

On September 23, I attended the Code Pink vigil outside Walter Reed Military Hospital in Northwest Washington, DC. Code Pink’s demands are: 1) an end to the Iraq occupation and withdrawal of U.S. troops; 2) proper medical care for injured troops (predominantly poor people) when they return home.

The vigil participants numbered perhaps 40-50, many of them wearing pink. Too late, I remembered I should have worn my pink shalwar kameez. Attendance was higher than usual, for the weekly vigil, with many activists in town early for the national anti-war protest the next day.

Directly across the street from the vigil was a group of counter-demonstrators, whose numbers very nearly matched those of Code Pink. These numbers were an odd contradiction of the polls, which show that an overwhelming majority of Americans now oppose the war.

Code Pink’s members are primarily Caucasian women. Many of them dress in very feminine fashion, decked out in beautiful, old-fashioned pink hats, frilly pink dresses and pink shawls. But they are very tough, for it was some of their members who lay down in the streets and refused to move, protesting the inhumanity of the war very early on.

“We wear pink,” one of them told me during a previous vigil, “because it is a peaceful and soothing color, and also to draw attention to the farce of the Code Red, Code Orange, and other alerts issued by the Bush administration post 9-11.”

I’d just walked up to the vigil when a petite, fashionably dressed brunette, with shoulder length hair, came up to me and introduced herself, “Hi, I’m Medea.”

So, this was Code Pink’s gutsy co-founder, Medea Benjamin. Earlier this year, Medea had disrupted Condoleezza Rice’s San Francisco speech. Dressed in a black hood and cloak similar to that worn by Iraqi prisoners, she’d stood up screaming, "Stop the torture. Stop the killing. U.S. out of Iraq," until she was removed from the hall by authorities. She had all my respect.

I shook her hand and thanked her for her efforts against the war. At the time, I was not aware that Medea planned to be arrested in the mass civil disobedience two days later. She exuded a tranquility that comes, perhaps, from working for justice.

The Code Pink women are very organized. Someone offered me a candle with a nice holder; someone else handed me a flier. The flier instructed me not to interact with the counter-demonstrators. Don’t talk to press members, unless they present ID, the flier said.

Don’t talk to press? That’s a little extreme, I thought.

Later, after some searching on the web, I found articles from Cybercast News Service (CNS) and other right-wing sources attacking Medea Benjamin, quoting the right wing demonstrators at length, and offering only brief quotes of questionable authenticity from Code Pink protestors. Yes, this is the same CNS which attacked Dr. Siddique at the behest of the Zionists. Now you know why not to talk to the (Zionist) media, stupid!

A few weeks ago, a young soldier had joined the Code Pink vigil. He’d returned from Iraq thoroughly disillusioned by the war. Still angry and emotional at what he’d experienced, he was provoked into a physical confrontation by the taunts of the counter-demonstrators. Police quickly broke up the incident, but the Code Pink women were determined there should be no repeat of this.

I found that young soldier and talked with him for a few minutes.

He said “Those guys across the street, look at their hair. It’s too long. They can’t have been over there. That is why they support the war. They have no idea what the U.S. is doing over there.”

A Vietnam veteran who stood with us agreed. The current administration, he said, are all cowards and draft dodgers, hiding behind their power and wealth. Most of them don’t have any military service under their belt. That is why they take war so lightly.”

I squinted to read the counter demonstrators’ signs, in an effort to understand their argument. There was none. They carried bizarre signs, such as “Code Pink Funds Terrorists,” and “America’s Armed Forces: Bringing democracy to the world, toppling one dictator at a time.” Some of them wore tee-shirts saying “Club G’itmo.”
Their main point seemed to be that Code Pink--not an illegal war--is the problem.

It was the classic propaganda tactic: when you can’t answer your opponent’s argument with facts, create as much confusion as you possibly can, with wild accusations.

A young Italian-American woman wearing camouflage pants handed me one end of a Code Pink banner. “I made this banner,” she announced proudly. It read “Money for the Wounded, Not for the War.”

A $3 billion shortfall is expected for Veterans Administration (VA) funding; many veterans hospitals (including Walter Reed) are under threat of closure. The Code Pink banner was on point, elucidating the hypocrisy of the Bush regime, in its dealings with its own fighting men and women.

While I held the banner, a conservatively dressed Code Pink woman, who appeared to be in her sixties or seventies, with entirely grey hair, darted out into traffic. As I watched in amazement, she energetically handed out fliers announcing the anti-war march the next day to passing cars as they pulled up to the Georgia Avenue traffic signal.
I chatted with two elderly woman in bright pink Stetsons. They had come from Texas for the national march the next day. One of them told me she had been in Camp Casey for several weeks, and then joined a contingent to deliver a protest letter to Laura Bush, in response to her racist comments following Hurricane Katrina.

Just as I was about to ask her if they’d been successful in delivering the letter, the entire group of Code Pink women broke out in song to the accompaniment of a banjo: “I ain’t going to study war no more,” a very creative anti-war version of “When the Saints Come Marching In”, and other well known peace songs.

(The vigil continues every Friday night at 7:00 pm – 9:00 pm outside the main entrance of Walter Reed Medical Center, in Northwest DC).

Wednesday, October 5, 2005

Protest Calls Attention to Bush Regime's Racism in New Orleans

On September 7, a Jamaat al-Muslimeen supporter and I joined protestors at the White House decrying the racism of the authorities in dealing with the New Orleans situation. The protest was called by A.N.S.W.E.R. (Act Now to Stop War and End Racism). The small but spirited group was led in chants by Eugene Puryear, a student activist from Howard University. “From Iraq to New Orleans, Fund Peoples’ Needs, Not the War Machine,” we chanted in the direction of the Rose Garden.

The protest reminded me of the many Jamaat al-Muslimeen protests I’d attended as a teenager. But where were all the other Muslims?

Caneisha Mills, ANSWER’S youth and student coordinator, spoke at a forum following the protest. She had just returned from a fact-finding trip to New Orleans. Tall and slender with beautiful, dark skin and a proud walk, she brought to mind some of the Panther women. With no makeup, her hair simply done, she might have been a Muslim. Most striking was her seriousness.

Caneisha is in her senior year at Howard University, yet she took time off from her classes to go to New Orleans, along with filmmaker Gloria La Riva, and photographer Bill Hackwell. They took as many relief supplies as they could for the people of New Orleans.

Caneisha’s anger at the injustice in New Orleans was evident, yet she was able to speak articulately and confidently. Her main points were: 1) the military is in place in New Orleans, but only to protect property, not to help the people evacuate, nor to provide for their needs; 2) supplies and volunteers are available, but they are not being allowed to reach where they are needed; 3) supplies brought in by the government are strictly for government personnel, not for the people who are in need.

She traveled through seven police/military checkpoints before arriving in the district of Algiers, where she, La Riva, and Hackwell were to be hosted at the home of community leader, Malik Rahim.

Malik Rahim is a former member of the Black Panther Party. Some activists suggest that if the BPP with its original platform been around today, the suffering in New Orleans might have largely been averted.

Malik is an example of grassroots leadership at its best. Algiers, where he lives, sits on higher ground than the rest of New Orleans. It was not as badly damaged as other areas, and much of it would still be habitable, were it not for the lack of electricity, food and water. Malik suggested using parks, schools, and other parts of Algiers to set up camps for people displaced from other parts of New Orleans, but so far, his efforts in this arena have fallen on deaf ears.

Malik told Caneisha: “Imagine being in a city, poor, without any money and all of a sudden you are told to leave and you don’t even have a bicycle. Ninety percent of the people don’t even have cars.”

Malik, along with three of his friends, go door-to-door three times a day, taking food, water, and ice to the people. When he returns from his “rounds” he is on the phone with community organizations, religious groups, and reporters, amassing more food and supplies to deliver the next day. His street is the only one with telephones still working, and black and white neighbors alike come in periodically to use his phone.

Malik spoke of white vigilantes riding through Algiers in pickup trucks, gunning down any blacks they thought didn’t belong there. His friends and neighbors feared for his safety, and many parked their cars in front of his house to fortify its entrance.

Caneisha remarked on the extraordinary hospitality of the Rahim family, despite the long-term difficulties facing them.

She spent considerable time walking around the Superdome and interviewing people. Most stories pointed to the abject disregard of the authorities for the predicament of the people. One black woman she interviewed tearfully recalled the trauma of waiting on her roof for days with her entire family, thinking they would all die there, as they were repeatedly bypassed by helicopters. The woman and her family remained on their roof until they were finally rescued by relatives. Only later did they learn that the helicopters had orders not to take larger families.

Caneisha interviewed a group of five young black men, who had taken it upon themselves to rescue people stranded in the flooded areas. Their leader, a handsome young man with shining eyes, told her “By the grace of Allah, we were able to commandeer a boat.”

He and his friends filled the boat with twenty-five people each trip. They would ask for volunteers who had the strength, to cling to the outside of the boat, and leave the seats for the weaker ones. Thus they were able to evacuate as many people as possible each trip. Many of the people had already been stuck their attics or on their rooftops for days with very little food or water, so they tried to get to them as quickly as possible. After the young men had been at this a couple days, they finally saw some official rescue boats bringing in people, but never more than five or six people at a time. “We did not bring our own families in till last,” he said.

Such stories of the peoples’ heroism abounded; one report that particularly inspired this writer was that of prisoners who broke into stores and got food out for the elderly and weak.

Caneisha and the ANSWER delegation returned from New Orleans and immediately set to work on the September 24 anti-war protest in Washington, DC. Few thinking people can miss the connection between the racism evident in the Bush Regime’s reaction to Katrina and the racism of the illegal war on Iraq. Appropriately, the original anti-war theme of the march was modified to: “From Iraq to New Orleans, Fund peoples needs, not the war machine.”