Last year, as a green little reporter for the Badger Herald on one of my first assignments, I was shot over to Library Mall to cover what was billed as a “pro-America” rally.

This display, however, devolved into little more than the typical antagonistic Madison protest.

Speaking from the podium on the steps of the library were various conservatively attired students and other guests. Members of the UW band were present, and a color guard kept watch over the proceedings. Several families with small children and a few old veterans from local VFW posts joined passersby to hear the proceedings.

However, ringed around the outside of the mall were groups of what can best be described as “anti-American” protestors. It’s hard to say what they were speaking out against other than the general display of the flag or the singing of the “Star Spangled Banner.” The event occurred very shortly after Sept. 11 — too soon for cries against war in Afghanistan and far too soon for the pain of that day to be adequately numbed.

As the meeting progressed through a short litany of speakers — public figures and students alike — the dialogue grew ever more confrontational as the ring of “protestors” around the assembled patriots grew in numbers and in discontent. They carried signs and banners, ranging in message from “keep the peace” to “fuck the stars and stripes.”

When the formalities drew to a close and a loudspeaker began to boom “The Battle Hymn of the Republic,” a few of the assembled protestors took to the stage, waving signs vulgarly besmirching both the flag and some of the officials present who were elected to represent the flag — all of this in front of a small group of veterans who had watched friends die to protect that flag.

I tapped one of the veterans on the shoulder shortly after he lowered his salute at the retirement of the colors. He said the “background noise” was “little more than the price we pay for a free society,” failing to appear even a bit begrudged or shaken by the blatant disrespect with which a group of 20-somethings presented him.

“But … you didn’t get this in my day,” he had said with a hint of a sigh.

Never had I been so ashamed of my own generation.

***

I’m a bit surprised at the apparent lack of visible protest over the potential war in Iraq, regarding which our president just signed a bill authorizing the use of force. I’m quite certain Library Mall or the State Street neighborhood will see some reaction should the bombs start falling, but I wonder of the magnitude.

Harsh backlash against members of ROTC? I don’t see it happening.

Bombings in university buildings conducting research funded by the Department of Defense? Unlikely, God willing.

The fact remains that for the little island of Madison, and perhaps for America as a whole outside of the major eastern cities, the events of Sept. 11 and the accompanying realities remain distant bullets on the evening news.

This, of course, is not literally the case. Everyone was affected, everyone was imprinted. But few in our immediate proximity have truly felt a call to action.

Probably because no one felt the tap of Uncle Sam on his or her shoulder.

The crisis in Vietnam was no less politically charged, and certainly our current situation presents far more immediate danger to the average American civilian. But daily life as we know it has seen few changes aside from headlines in newspapers and the subject matter of late-night talk shows.

It would seem to me the underlying causes of Madison becoming such a hotbed of rebellious dissent in the Vietnam era was that students were scared and, at the very crux of the matter, they weren’t really dissenting in the first place.

Contemporary history equates anti-war with hippies, hippies with Woodstock and Woodstock with the ’60s. But the brunt of the campus demonstrations were ignited in the very late ’60s and early ’70s when general public opinion was swinging against the initial motivations for violence in southeast Asia.

While campuses such as Berkeley, Madison, Kent State and others received the attention, Anytown, USA, must have had enough support behind the anti-war effort to push LBJ aside even before a fight, a heretofore unprecedented forfeiture of incumbency.

And so, here we sit with a conservative, even hawkish, administration directing another controversial war in a far-flung and thoroughly foreign land. Criticism has come down; yes, one would expect no less from the world’s greatest democracy.

But no rejection of authority, no bucking of the status quo, no rebuffed calls for sacrifice and no overt contempt for cherished symbols here in Madison.

And no draft cards.

Let us hope the latter would not be an assured consequence of the former.

***

As long as we’re on the subject of college students these days being spineless, allow me a bit of a rant.

It seems that two weeks ago a person or persons out to practice daring deeds of dastardly deviance took it upon themselves to relieve my roommates and I of several prize pumpkins from our back porch.

This type of hooliganism upsets me on several levels, not the least of which is the fact that the little orange buggers were harvested from grandma’s pumpkin patch.

Not finding any trace of pumpkin-gut forensic evidence on our porch or in the street, I’m confident the perpetrators are still at large. I hope you have a warm porch.

Eric Cullen ([email protected]) is a sophomore majoring in political science.