An Endangered Privilege

The parade that wound its way down JFK Street in celebration of Oktoberbest last weekend was an altogether standard procession, featuring energetic marching bands, costumed dancers, awkward stilt-walkers, and left-leaning political dissent. Nothing unusual or controversial—just jovial calls for the impeachment of the President, signs to the effect of “Honk if You Think Iraq is the Greatest Travesty in the History of the World,” and other meaningful jabs at our evil Commander-in-Chief.

Oh, how the Burmese monks would have enjoyed themselves! Not only can residents of Cambridge have a good time, they can have a good time and criticize their political leaders, all without fear of violent retribution!

We might wonder, though, how accepting the parade and its merry crowd would have been if a group of Burmese dissenters, or even a serious group of concerned Americans, had voiced its desire to march in the parade. After all, they wouldn’t be any fun. Who wants to deal with real issues during a parade? Oktoberfest is supposed to be about jollity and getting drunk. After all, if anyone really wants to protest, they can set up a soapbox in the square and hand out fliers—a far more effective and publicly acceptable way of voicing serious concerns about the world.

Unfortunately, this attitude points to a troubling dilution of political protest and a lack of serious dialogue in Cambridge and in many parts of this country today. There is a fine line between amusing political satire and impassioned political statements, a line which is frequently and haphazardly crossed. Perhaps it is a sign of just how much the president has alienated his constituency; perhaps it is the nature of contemporary political expression.

Either way it is irresponsible.

The parade participants last Sunday were not informed and serious political dissenters—or if they were their discourse gave no indication of it. But their approach was problematic and narrow-minded: “We Are All The Same,” one banner proclaimed, implying that no one could possibly disagree with them. As long as we are all the same in our opinions, the expression of them amounts not to protest but to a shameless venting of sentiment. And the main problem with this expression is that the opposite is true: We are all different. We all have different ideas and values, and our right to protest is a public expression of those disagreements with authorities and organizations.

The protesters clearly viewed themselves as innocuous jesters, and certainly many of the spectators viewed them the same way. But, intended or not, this message was an aggressive political protest, and a completely inappropriate abuse of the public arena.

If we have learned anything from the shocking images of brutality in Burma it is that our right to publicly disagree with our leadership is an extremely precious one, a privilege that we too often take for granted. We must exercise is responsibly lest it lose its power.

Edward J. Martin ’10, a Crimson editorial comper, lives in Quincy House.