How does one California Hands Off! protest compare to protests of the 1960s? | Opinion
This past weekend, I joined a group of five — including my wheelchair-bound wife — to protest President Donald Trump. We took a Lyft to downtown Oakland, then made our way through the crowds. The Oakland rally was one of approximately 1,300 similar “Hands Off!” protests that took place across the country.
I had not been to a demonstration in many years, and I found myself comparing the day’s event with similar actions that I’d seen or participated in during the course of my 78 years.
In 1957, a small group of Sane Nuclear Policy members regularly gathered on the cement island at the intersection of Broadway and Seventh Ave. in New York, distributing literature and hoisting their “Ban the Bomb” placards. I’d pass the group on weekends as a young teen exploring Manhattan.
The participants looked like a bunch of oddballs — people called them bohemians, communists, pinkos or, if given the benefit of the doubt, “non-conformists.” Generally, the adults I knew, and those on the television news, either made fun of them or, at the very least, alluded to these do-gooders with a certain amount of disdain.
In general, the handful of anti-nuclear dissidents did not attract a great deal of attention. I almost never saw a passerby stop to pick up fliers, or talk with the men and women seated behind their tables, yet there they were, week after week, calmly stationed in the midst of one of the most tumultuous intersections in the world. Why bother, I wondered? Nobody cared or agreed with them.
Later, I came to realize they were bearing witness and hoping to show that their point of view existed in the marketplace of ideas.
Over the years, I’ve seen many picketers, protesters and rally participants. Each gathering has a predominant attitude: anger, quiet sincerity, resolve, enthusiasm and skeptical dis-ease. More than anything else, Oakland’s “Hands Off!” rally simply wanted to take place, to be counted as one of hundreds of similar gatherings around the country, to produce and display a large turnout — the numbers alone making a statement. The vibe was that of organized enthusiasm.
“It’s time to act,” speakers urged. “We aren’t going to take any more of Trump and Musk’s destructive, hateful greed.”
The sentiment rang true, but no specific maps were provided marking the path back to democracy. Participants shouted noble demands, however those of us dissatisfied with the stilted efforts of the Democratic Party were offered intentions, not solutions. I don’t think many of us felt we’d been sent off on a great journey, merely on an orderly, almost casual “march” as specified by the directions we received from the stage as the rally concluded.
We gathered our water bottles, stopped taking videos, made a left at the corner and meandered down the street.
My impression could be an outlier, but I did not get a sense that anyone bonded. The conversations taking place as we marched seemed to be between people who had arrived together. I recalled an anti-war demonstration I’d attended after being discharged from the military. I was obviously searching for direction, and it was easily found. Not on websites, but right there, in person.
Protesters regrouped. Factions passed out fliers about up-and-coming events and about services being provided to draft dodgers, ways to channel concerns, projects to support and avenues of action. This is not to say such good intentions were necessarily effective. It took many years for the war to come to its long overdue end. But the energy was dynamic, contagious and visceral.
Current protests need to move on from public squares to GOP hangouts. Billboards, social media, websites, radio stations and television should be flooded with political statements that point out Trump and Vice President J.D. Vance’s lies and contradictions.
Our counter-offensive requires deep pockets, yet no one was asked to donate a penny at the Hands Off! rally I attended. There was no talk of specifics; of purchasing advertising space or of creating networks of volunteers.
I’ve probably romanticized the past. Some past protests I’ve seen turned ugly or violent, or had unintended consequences. They were messy, yet many stuck to task and proved effective. The Civil Rights movement brought about more open and accessible rights in the public square. Martin Luther King, Jr. was its voice.
Who will become the voice of our current efforts to restore America?
This story was originally published April 10, 2025 at 10:04 AM with the headline "How does one California Hands Off! protest compare to protests of the 1960s? | Opinion."