No Kings – Echoes From the 70s

This piece is part of Yellow Scene Magazine’s Opinion section. The views expressed here are those of the author and do not represent a reported news position. At Yellow Scene, opinion pieces speak freely, challenge assumptions, and say the quiet parts out loud.

Well, he gave it a shot.

I refer to the angry white man wearing an ICE hat who strutted through the No Kings crowd in Erie, spoiling for a fight.

No takers, except Erie police officers who took him aside and apparently didn’t buy his stories of abuse by homemade signs at the hands of cheerful women in delightfully satirical costumes.

And so it was across the country, where an estimated 7 million smiling men, women and children gathered in protest of the vulgarian who would be king. It is remarkable that millions gathered in joyful peace. This turnout was necessary, but insufficient. Recent scholarship sets 3.5% of the population as the threshold to meet for resisting or overturning tyranny. 12 million is our goal number. We’ll get there.

The MAGA retorts were pitiful. Their script called for defining protesters as folks who “hate America.” Or Marxists. Or Antifa, the mythological organization that exists only in the putrified brains of thugs who hate antifascists, leading to a fair interpretation that they don’t mind fascism itself too much. They also hate anti-racists.  You may draw a similar conclusion. There were in Erie, as elsewhere, charming characters dressed as Aunt Tifa.

The MAGA folks also tried to ascribe the protests to George Soros. I’m surprised they didn’t mention Hilary’s emails or Hunter’s laptop. It is humorous to hear these absurdities from folks who wear matching red hats at rallies where all the signs come from the same printing press. MAGA folks have no equivalent to the sign on one of infant twins in a stroller: “I don’t shit the bed as much as Trump.” – or words to that effect.

An important distinction – too seldom made – is that progressive folks are usually good-humored and MAGAs are utterly humorless. Unless, of course, they are mocking anyone or anything vulnerable. Like Trump’s memorable mocking of a disabled reporter. Ha. Ha.

As encouraging as it was to be briefly in the company of such good souls, it was discouraging to know how many kindred spirits stayed home. Even I drift into the “What difference will it make?” crowd from time to time. I should know better. I’ve seen that it can make all the difference.

I cut my protest teeth in 1970.  In the summer of 1969, I returned from Southeast Asia as an Army 1st Lieutenant. The illegal, immoral war in Vietnam led me to write to the Pentagon, resigning my commission. I did not experience combat, but was indirectly complicit.

By the summer of ’70, the invasion of Cambodia led to widespread protests, including the peaceful demonstration at Kent State, where trigger-happy “patriots” slaughtered 4 students. College campuses erupted, and protests spilled into the streets. We lived in Cleveland, less than an hour from Kent State University, making it seem more personal.

Anti-war and pro-choice demonstrations were family matters for my wife, our infant daughter, and me. It was a matter of principle at the time, but most historians credit this social movement for the cascade of changes in subsequent years, including abortion rights and other advances for women.

It is critically important now to have rally after rally after rally. There are those who are waiting for the 2026 midterms, hoping to turn out the vote and turn out the scoundrels. That may be too late. There is little doubt that Trump’s military flexing is a dry run for declaring martial law and suspending elections. It’s Page One in the authoritarian playbook. We citizens, have to keep doing dry runs of our own. We are the many. They are the few.

If and when the time comes, we can surround the reluctant troops and put flowers in the barrels of their guns and sing songs of peace and joy on the way to the ballot box.

The only way tyrants win is when good people stay home.