Tens of thousands of people packed downtown Washington yesterday and marched past the White House in the largest show of antiwar sentiment in the nation's capital since the conflict in Iraq began. The demonstration drew grandmothers in wheelchairs and babies in strollers, military veterans in fatigues and protest veterans in tie-dye. It was the first time in a decade that protest groups had a permit to march in front of the executive mansion, and, even though President Bush was not there, the setting seemed to electrify the crowd. Signs, T-shirts, slogans and speeches outlined the cost of the Iraq conflict in human as well as economic terms. They memorialized dead U.S. troops and Iraqis, and contrasted the price of war with the price of recovery for areas battered by hurricanes Katrina and Rita. Riffs on Vietnam-era protests were plentiful, with messages declaring, "Make Levees, Not War," "I never thought I'd miss Nixon" and "Iraq is Arabic for Vietnam." Many in the crowd had protested in the 1960s; others weren't even born during those tumultuous years. Protest organizers estimated that 300,000 people participated, triple their original target. D.C. Police Chief Charles H. Ramsey, who walked the march route, said the protesters achieved the goal of 100,000 and probably exceeded it. Asked whether at least 150,000 showed up, the chief said, "That's as good a guess as any.
The demonstration drew grandmothers in wheelchairs and babies in strollers, military veterans in fatigues and protest veterans in tie-dye. It was the first time in a decade that protest groups had a permit to march in front of the executive mansion, and, even though President Bush was not there, the setting seemed to electrify the crowd.
Signs, T-shirts, slogans and speeches outlined the cost of the Iraq conflict in human as well as economic terms. They memorialized dead U.S. troops and Iraqis, and contrasted the price of war with the price of recovery for areas battered by hurricanes Katrina and Rita. Riffs on Vietnam-era protests were plentiful, with messages declaring, "Make Levees, Not War," "I never thought I'd miss Nixon" and "Iraq is Arabic for Vietnam." Many in the crowd had protested in the 1960s; others weren't even born during those tumultuous years.
Protest organizers estimated that 300,000 people participated, triple their original target. D.C. Police Chief Charles H. Ramsey, who walked the march route, said the protesters achieved the goal of 100,000 and probably exceeded it. Asked whether at least 150,000 showed up, the chief said, "That's as good a guess as any.
On both sides of the Atlantic, two mothers who lost sons in Iraq have launched campaigns to end the conflict. One camped outside George Bush's ranch. The other stood in the general election. This week, they came face to face for the first time. Along the sunbaked sidewalk of Pennsylvania Avenue came the sound of singing. It was music from an earlier generation, but as relevant now as it ever was. "All we are saying is give peace a chance," chanted the group of demonstrators as they made their way to the north-west gates of the White House. "All we are saying is give peace chance." At the head of the huddled group was Cindy Sheehan, the woman whose soldier son, Casey, was killed in Iraq last year and whose campaign to demand an explanation for the war from President George Bush took her to the gates of his Crawford ranch, made headlines around the world and - seemingly almost single-handedly - re-energised the US peace movement. At her side was Rose Gentle, a woman whose son, Gordon, was also killed in Iraq and who has launched a similarly relentless campaign to demand answers from Prime Minister Tony Blair. "It's exciting to be here, to let George Bush know what we think about the war," Mrs Gentle said moments afterwards, standing at the junction with 17th Street, carrying a photograph of her son wearing his uniform of Royal Highland Fusiliers. Asked if she thought he would have approved of her campaign, she glanced at the photograph of the young man, 19 years old, and replied: "Gordon would have wanted this. His pals are still there [in Iraq] and he would have wanted them home safe. They still keep in touch." She added: "Those young boys don't know who's with them or who's against them. People think we are against the troops but we are for them - we want them home safe. Once they're dead, the [authorities] don't want to know them. For a 19-year-old with just 24 weeks basic training to be sent to Iraq..."
Along the sunbaked sidewalk of Pennsylvania Avenue came the sound of singing. It was music from an earlier generation, but as relevant now as it ever was. "All we are saying is give peace a chance," chanted the group of demonstrators as they made their way to the north-west gates of the White House. "All we are saying is give peace chance."
At the head of the huddled group was Cindy Sheehan, the woman whose soldier son, Casey, was killed in Iraq last year and whose campaign to demand an explanation for the war from President George Bush took her to the gates of his Crawford ranch, made headlines around the world and - seemingly almost single-handedly - re-energised the US peace movement. At her side was Rose Gentle, a woman whose son, Gordon, was also killed in Iraq and who has launched a similarly relentless campaign to demand answers from Prime Minister Tony Blair.
"It's exciting to be here, to let George Bush know what we think about the war," Mrs Gentle said moments afterwards, standing at the junction with 17th Street, carrying a photograph of her son wearing his uniform of Royal Highland Fusiliers. Asked if she thought he would have approved of her campaign, she glanced at the photograph of the young man, 19 years old, and replied: "Gordon would have wanted this. His pals are still there [in Iraq] and he would have wanted them home safe. They still keep in touch."
She added: "Those young boys don't know who's with them or who's against them. People think we are against the troops but we are for them - we want them home safe. Once they're dead, the [authorities] don't want to know them. For a 19-year-old with just 24 weeks basic training to be sent to Iraq..."
