'A Chill Wind Is Blowing
In This Nation...'
Transcript of the speech given by actor Tim
Robbins to the National Press Club in Washington, D.C., on April
15, 2003
Tim
Robbins: Thank you. And thanks for the invitation. I had originally
been asked here to talk about the war and our current political
situation, but I have instead chosen to hijack this opportunity
and talk about baseball and show business. (Laughter.) Just
kidding. Sort of.
I
can't tell you how moved I have been at the overwhelming support
I have received from newspapers throughout the country in these
past few days. I hold no illusions that all of these journalists
agree with me on my views against the war. While the journalists'
outrage at the cancellation of our appearance in Cooperstown
is not about my views, it is about my right to express these
views. I am extremely grateful that there are those of you out
there still with a fierce belief in constitutionally guaranteed
rights. We need you, the press, now more than ever. This is
a crucial moment for all of us.
For
all of the ugliness and tragedy of 9-11, there was a brief period
afterward where I held a great hope, in the midst of the tears
and shocked faces of New Yorkers, in the midst of the lethal
air we breathed as we worked at Ground Zero, in the midst of
my children's terror at being so close to this crime against
humanity, in the midst of all this, I held on to a glimmer of
hope in the naive assumption that something good could come
out of it.
I
imagined our leaders seizing upon this moment of unity in America,
this moment when no one wanted to talk about Democrat versus
Republican, white versus black, or any of the other ridiculous
divisions that dominate our public discourse. I imagined our
leaders going on television telling the citizens that although
we all want to be at Ground Zero, we can't, but there is work
that is needed to be done all over America. Our help is needed
at community centers to tutor children, to teach them to read.
Our work is needed at old-age homes to visit the lonely and
infirmed; in gutted neighborhoods to rebuild housing and clean
up parks, and convert abandoned lots to baseball fields. I imagined
leadership that would take this incredible energy, this generosity
of spirit and create a new unity in America born out of the
chaos and tragedy of 9/11, a new unity that would send a message
to terrorists everywhere: If you attack us, we will become stronger,
cleaner, better educated, and more unified. You will strengthen
our commitment to justice and democracy by your inhumane attacks
on us. Like a Phoenix out of the fire, we will be reborn.
And
then came the speech: You are either with us or against us.
And the bombing began. And the old paradigm was restored as
our leader encouraged us to show our patriotism by shopping
and by volunteering to join groups that would turn in their
neighbor for any suspicious behavior.
In
the 19 months since 9-11, we have seen our democracy compromised
by fear and hatred. Basic inalienable rights, due process, the
sanctity of the home have been quickly compromised in a climate
of fear. A unified American public has grown bitterly divided,
and a world population that had profound sympathy and support
for us has grown contemptuous and distrustful, viewing us as
we once viewed the Soviet Union, as a rogue state.
This
past weekend, Susan and I and the three kids went to Florida
for a family reunion of sorts. Amidst the alcohol and the dancing,
sugar-rushing children, there was, of course, talk of the war.
And the most frightening thing about the weekend was the amount
of times we were thanked for speaking out against the war because
that individual speaking thought it unsafe to do so in their
own community, in their own life. Keep talking, they said; I
haven't been able to open my mouth.
A
relative tells me that a history teacher tells his 11-year-old
son, my nephew, that Susan Sarandon is endangering the troops
by her opposition to the war. Another teacher in a different
school asks our niece if we are coming to the school play. They're
not welcome here, said the molder of young minds.
Another
relative tells me of a school board decision to cancel a civics
event that was proposing to have a moment of silence for those
who have died in the war because the students were including
dead Iraqi civilians in their silent prayer.
A
teacher in another nephew's school is fired for wearing a T-
shirt with a peace sign on it. And a friend of the family tells
of listening to the radio down South as the talk radio host
calls for the murder of a prominent anti-war activist. Death
threats have appeared on other prominent anti-war activists'
doorsteps for their views. Relatives of ours have received threatening
e-mails and phone calls. And my 13-year-old boy, who has done
nothing to anybody, has recently been embarrassed and humiliated
by a sadistic creep who writes -- or, rather, scratches his
column with his fingernails in dirt.
Susan
and I have been listed as traitors, as supporters of Saddam,
and various other epithets by the Aussie gossip rags masquerading
as newspapers, and by their fair and balanced electronic media
cousins, 19th Century Fox. (Laughter.) Apologies to Gore Vidal.
(Applause.)
Two
weeks ago, the United Way canceled Susan's appearance at a conference
on women's leadership. And both of us last week were told that
both we and the First Amendment were not welcome at the Baseball
Hall of Fame.
A
famous middle-aged rock-and-roller called me last week to thank
me for speaking out against the war, only to go on to tell me
that he could not speak himself because he fears repercussions
from Clear Channel. "They promote our concert appearances,"
he said. "They own most of the stations that play our music.
I can't come out against this war."
And
here in Washington, Helen Thomas finds herself banished to the
back of the room and uncalled on after asking Ari Fleischer
whether our showing prisoners of war at Guantanamo Bay on television
violated the Geneva Convention.
A
chill wind is blowing in this nation. A message is being sent
through the White House and its allies in talk radio and Clear
Channel and Cooperstown. If you oppose this administration,
there can and will be ramifications.
Every
day, the air waves are filled with warnings, veiled and unveiled
threats, spewed invective and hatred directed at any voice of
dissent. And the public, like so many relatives and friends
that I saw this weekend, sit in mute opposition and fear.
I
am sick of hearing about Hollywood being against this war. Hollywood's
heavy hitters, the real power brokers and cover-of-the- magazine
stars, have been largely silent on this issue. But Hollywood,
the concept, has always been a popular target.
I
remember when the Columbine High School shootings happened.
President Clinton criticized Hollywood for contributing to this
terrible tragedy -- this, as we were dropping bombs over Kosovo.
Could the violent actions of our leaders contribute somewhat
to the violent fantasies of our teenagers? Or is it all just
Hollywood and rock and roll?
I
remember reading at the time that one of the shooters had tried
to enlist to fight the real war a week before he acted out his
war in real life at Columbine. I talked about this in the press
at the time. And curiously, no one accused me of being unpatriotic
for criticizing Clinton. In fact, the same radio patriots that
call us traitors today engaged in daily personal attacks on
their president during the war in Kosovo.
Today,
prominent politicians who have decried violence in movies --
the "Blame Hollywooders," if you will -- recently voted to give
our current president the power to unleash real violence in
our current war. They want us to stop the fictional violence
but are okay with the real kind.
And
these same people that tolerate the real violence of war don't
want to see the result of it on the nightly news. Unlike the
rest of the world, our news coverage of this war remains sanitized,
without a glimpse of the blood and gore inflicted upon our soldiers
or the women and children in Iraq. Violence as a concept, an
abstraction -- it's very strange.
As
we applaud the hard-edged realism of the opening battle scene
of "Saving Private Ryan," we cringe at the thought of seeing
the same on the nightly news. We are told it would be pornographic.
We want no part of reality in real life. We demand that war
be painstakingly realized on the screen, but that war remain
imagined and conceptualized in real life.
And
in the midst of all this madness, where is the political opposition?
Where have all the Democrats gone? Long time passing, long time
ago. (Applause.) With apologies to Robert Byrd, I have to say
it is pretty embarrassing to live in a country where a five-foot-
one comedian has more guts than most politicians. (Applause.)
We need leaders, not pragmatists that cower before the spin
zones of former entertainment journalists. We need leaders who
can understand the Constitution, congressman who don't in a
moment of fear abdicate their most important power, the right
to declare war to the executive branch. And, please, can we
please stop the congressional sing-a- longs? (Laughter.)
In
this time when a citizenry applauds the liberation of a country
as it lives in fear of its own freedom, when an administration
official releases an attack ad questioning the patriotism of
a legless Vietnam veteran running for Congress, when people
all over the country fear reprisal if they use their right to
free speech, it is time to get angry. It is time to get fierce.
And it doesn't take much to shift the tide. My 11-year-old nephew,
mentioned earlier, a shy kid who never talks in class, stood
up to his history teacher who was questioning Susan's patriotism.
"That's my aunt you're talking about. Stop it." And the stunned
teacher backtracks and began stammering compliments in embarrassment.
Sportswriters
across the country reacted with such overwhelming fury at the
Hall of Fame that the president of the Hall admitted he made
a mistake and Major League Baseball disavowed any connection
to the actions of the Hall's president. A bully can be stopped,
and so can a mob. It takes one person with the courage and a
resolute voice.
The
journalists in this country can battle back at those who would
rewrite our Constitution in Patriot Act II, or "Patriot, The
Sequel," as we would call it in Hollywood. We are counting on
you to star in that movie. Journalists can insist that they
not be used as publicists by this administration. (Applause.)
The next White House correspondent to be called on by Ari Fleischer
should defer their question to the back of the room, to the
banished journalist du jour. (Applause.) And any instance of
intimidation to free speech should be battled against. Any acquiescence
or intimidation at this point will only lead to more intimidation.
You have, whether you like it or not, an awesome responsibility
and an awesome power: the fate of discourse, the health of this
republic is in your hands, whether you write on the left or
the right. This is your time, and the destiny you have chosen.
We
lay the continuance of our democracy on your desks, and count
on your pens to be mightier. Millions are watching and waiting
in mute frustration and hope - hoping for someone to defend
the spirit and letter of our Constitution, and to defy the intimidation
that is visited upon us daily in the name of national security
and warped notions of patriotism.
Our
ability to disagree, and our inherent right to question our
leaders and criticize their actions define who we are. To allow
those rights to be taken away out of fear, to punish people
for their beliefs, to limit access in the news media to differing
opinions is to acknowledge our democracy's defeat. These are
challenging times. There is a wave of hate that seeks to divide
us -- right and left, pro-war and anti-war. In the name of my
11-year-old nephew, and all the other unreported victims of
this hostile and unproductive environment of fear, let us try
to find our common ground as a nation. Let us celebrate this
grand and glorious experiment that has survived for 227 years.
To do so we must honor and fight vigilantly for the things that
unite us -- like freedom, the First Amendment and, yes, baseball.
(Applause.)
Back
To: Tim-Robbins.com
Related Site: Susan-Sarandon.com
