Conghaileach
20th April 2003, 17:38
Tim Robbins - 'A Chill Wind is Blowing'
'A Chill Wind is Blowing in This Nation...'
Transcript of the speech given by actor Tim Robbins to
the National Press Club
Washington, D.C. 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.)
'A Chill Wind is Blowing in This Nation...'
Transcript of the speech given by actor Tim Robbins to
the National Press Club
Washington, D.C. 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.)