Steven Laffoley: Dissent is Now Dangerous

(Common Dreams) ~The author is a school principal, teacher, and columnist for the Daily News in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada. E-mail address: stevenlaffoley@yahoo.ca

"A young pastor with a peace pin, a retired landscaper with a bumper sticker, and a poorly dressed filmmaker with a populist streak. In America, they are dangerous dissenters. At least, many now believe so.
Freeport, Maine is a wonderland of American consumer capitalism. Its pristine nineteenth century buildings on a narrow main street give the familiar comfort of small town America - with the comfortable familiarity of big mall brand names: L.L. Bean, Abercrombie and Fitch, The Gap, Polo. And times are good among the wealthy in America. The street is jammed with well-dressed people carrying bags in both hands.
First Parish Church is also on the main street. It too was built in the nineteenth century. Out front, on the grass, sits a white, wooden peace sign three feet across. Inside, curved pews and arches pull the viewer's attention to the front stain glass window. Below that, two men talk by the pulpit. They see me and come to talk.
Ted is in his early sixties and wears a tee shirt and ball cap with the local fire department insignia. He speaks with a thick, Maine accent. Next to Ted stands the Reverend, John. He is younger, not yet 40. Passionate about their church, they describe it in detail - its history and its congregation of 100 or so.
After a while, I ask them about the peace sign on the grass. Reverend John tells me it was made by local high school students celebrating the life of Martin Luther King. I ask how the tourists, given the war, have reacted to the sign. The two men talk of some hostility, some vandalism. I ask about the congregation and where they stand on the war. "Split down the middle," says Ted.
"We work," offers Reverend John, "to find, common ground." He is uncertain, though. Common ground in America isn't so common. Ted says he supports the president, the war. But he is restrained. He notices the peace pin on my notebook. We talk for a while more, and then Ted leaves. Reverend John and I continue talking as we walk toward the exit.
At the door I ask, "Where do you stand on the war?"
He sighs and then glances past me to the street. No one is near. "If I weren't the pastor," he says pointing at my notebook, "I'd be wearing that pin." He has to be careful, he says. He wants to keep his job. We nod at each other as though we're sharing a conspiracy.
John is scared. Dissent is now unchristian.
The next morning, at the hotel, I have a coffee in the common room. I'm alone until an older man enters. Bald, with a barrel chest and a red face, he greets me heartily, "Good mornin'." He gets his coffee, sits on the opposite couch, and starts talking. "I'm Lou," he says, "from St. Louis." Lou is retired landscaper who talks rapidly of his family, his life, and his recent travels around America. While sipping his coffee, he notices my peace pin. He leans forward and lowers his voice. "Takes guts to wear that," he says.
Again, I share conspiratorial whispers. Lou "admits" he is a moderate Democrat. "Back home, after a lot of thought," he says, "I put a 'Kerry for President' bumper sticker on my truck. It was weird. On the highway, people were honkin' at me and givin' me the finger. Occasionally, someone would drive by and give me thumbs up. But truthfully, I got nervous. I thought someone might pull a gun."
Lou is scared. Dissent is now undemocratic.
Late that night, I watch news on MSNBC. The commentator is yelling. A quote from filmmaker Michael Moore flashes on the screen. It reads: more American soldiers may have to die before America realizes this war is wrong.
The commentator is spitting bile. "Michael Moore," he shouts into the camera, "is calling for the death of Americans. He is anti-American. A traitor. Why isn't the Democratic Party disavowing this dangerous dissenter? Why isn't Senator Kerry distancing himself from Michael Moore? Does he agree with him?"
The commentator is flushed with rage. Dissent is now un-American.
In the local newspaper, buried on page twelve, I read that the Bush administration is test flying the conditions necessary for postponing the November election. A terrorist attack? A hurricane? An earthquake, perhaps?
I find myself wondering: is the "dissent" of pastors, landscapers, and filmmakers enough?
It is then that I realize: I am scared. After all, in America, dissent is now dangerous."