Here’s a behind-the-scenes postscript about the lengths to which the planners of the Republican National Convention went to ensure the appearance of a discord-free GOP: They tried to scuttle Ron Paul’s counter-convention across the river in Minneapolis and the next night’s Rage Against the Machine concert as well.

Speaking on background, well-placed sources at City Hall and Target Center have confirmed to MnIndy that in the days before Ron Paul’s Rally for the Republic at Target Center was publicly announced, representatives of the RNC Host Committee contacted officials at Target Center and the city of Minneapolis (which oversees the facility) to push for the cancellation of the event. They also sought the cancellation of the Rage Against the Machine concert that took place at Target Center on September 3, the third night of the RNC.

A City Haller familiar with the situation says that Mayor RT Rybak’s office was contacted by Host Committee members who wanted the mayor’s assistance in seeing to it that the events were canceled. He refused to cooperate, adds the source. I phoned Rybak’s office; he declined to be interviewed. But his communication director, Jeremy Hanson, had this to say: “We don’t dispute the characterization of events, but the mayor’s office doesn’t wish to comment further.”

I left a message this morning seeking a response from Jeff Larson, the RNC Host Committee’s CEO. He has not returned the call. If/when he does, I’ll add an update.

(Larson is perhaps better known as a founder of the Feather Larson Synhorst group, a top-drawer GOP fundraising/marketing outfit, and as Norm Coleman’s DC landlord.)

Anti-Flag opening for Rage Against the Machine (photo: Tony Nelson)

Anti-Flag at the Target Center Sept. 3 (photo: Tony Nelson)

Radical punk band Anti-Flag headlined the Ripple Effect Tuesday at the St. Paul Capitol Grounds, where Rage Against the Machine were physically barred by police from taking the stage to perform a surprise set. Rage performed two songs on a megaphone out in the audience, and much of the crowd turned around to march on the RNC. We caught up with Anti-Flag singer-guitarist Justin Sane and drummer Pat Thetic backstage at the Target Center Wednesday to get their side of the story.

Q: So what happened Tuesday?

Justin Sane: The police refused to let Rage Against the Machine go onstage even though we had a permit. As guests of ours, they were included in that permit. The permit didn’t specify any bands.

Q: It’s been all over the media that Rage didn’t have a permit.

JS: That’s been inaccurately reported.

Pat Thetic: We had a hard curfew at 7:00, that’s what we were all worried about.

JS: We had invited Rage to play a number of their songs using our gear after our set. The plan was, we were going to finish our set early, and Rage were going to come up and be done by 7:00. So we finished our set, and Rage were supposed to be coming up. And as Rage got out of their vehicles, they were intercepted by police.

The police said, “Are you Rage Against the Machine?” And Tom Morello said to them, “I don’t know.” [laughs] That’s a very good answer. And then they encircled Rage Against the Machine, and told them if they went onstage they would be arrested.

PT: And they physically prevented them from going onstage.

JS: So at that point we all got together, Anti-Flag and Rage Against the Machine, and we said, well, let’s not let ourselves be intimidated into not making a statement. Instead let’s go out directly to the audience and be part of the audience. We just walked around the side of the stage.

There was absolutely no violence, no confrontation at this event at all until the police came in. The police single-handedly made this event very dangerous.

Q: Do you have friends or relatives who are Republicans?

PT: My parents are Republicans. My dad and I were just having a conversation before soundcheck, and he said, ‘We’ll discuss Sarah Palin later,’ and I said, ‘Yeah, we’ll do that later.’ [laughs] We never change each other’s minds. But I definitely encourage people to spend time with Republicans, because there’s a whole propaganda world that they get and we don’t get, and we get that they don’t get.

JS: There’s a real disconnect between our realities.

Q: Did you watch Fred Thompson’s pitch for McCain? I felt hypnotized by it.

PT: These people are experts at marketing and advertising. They know the things that are going to push buttons to make people like them. They’re spending millions of dollars to get you to think these things every day.

Q: How did you come by your politics?

JS: Well I actually grew up in the most extremely opposite kind of family, where my parents were left-wing political activists, They had a vegetarian restaurant in the 1970s, before most people knew what a vegetarian was. The city we grew up in, Pittsburgh, is a labor town, and my uncle was in the steel workers union. But what excited me about political action was political music, bands like Dead Kennedys and the Clash. So I could understand the impact that political music could have on a movement. Yesterday was an incredible example of that.

Q: That said, there’s a few dozens kids breaking windows and stuff. Is there a place to draw the line with illegal protest?

PT: I’m actually a fan, [laughs] I have to say. When you’re there, you see what’s happening. You see the frustration of the kid on the sidewalk who’s just there chanting, and the cops pull him off and throw him on the ground and start pepper-spraying him in the face.

JS: At that point, when kids start breaking windows, then it makes sense. Rarely does a group of kids just show up and start knocking shit over and breaking things for no reason. It’s almost always something that’s instigated by the police. And there have been cases where undercover police are in the audience instigating things, so that’s certainly an issue.

PT: I’ll take a number of Starbucks windows to get the troops out of Iraq.

Police blocked vehicle traffic on 1st Avenue in front of the Target Center and many Rage fans simply sat on the curb waiting for something, anything, to happen. It would be half an hour before police ordered people to disperse or be arrested, and police on horseback had assembled a line on 6th Street.

The order to disperse on threat of arrest triggered a round of chanting: “Who’s Streets? Our Streets!” — a familiar chant the last three days. Four people with makeshift American flags marched toward the police line on 6th Street, then doubled back, taking a crowd of about 50 people with them up 1st Avenue.

Police in riot gear lined up on all sides of the 50 or so marchers making a turn onto 7th Street past the First Avenue music venue and shoved another 100 observers up the street, including me. After 20 minutes of holding the 50 marchers (and after several waves of mace), the police line allowed them through and the marchers emerged. I was able to rejoin the protesters.

The march moved down 7th Street, where the tail end was cut off by a 4-wheel tear gas vehicle and several dozen police on bicycles. About 20 people, myself included, were ordered to cower in a doorway under the threat of being maced. And they meant it.

One woman, who was swept up in the mass on her way home, asked if she could walk around the corner. She was denied: “Step back ma’am or you are going to be maced,” said an officer wielding a large spray can. Another young man demanded to return to his bike and head home. When he was refused, he went anyway and got a face full of mace.

I lost track of the marchers as they headed up 7th while I was detained, and as riot police shut off each intersection between them and me. Once we were released, riot police formed a line behind us.

Police maintained blockades on 7th Street and Marquette Avenue for another half an hour. By the time I was able to get near the scene, most of the activity was gone.

Continued from part I.

Leaving the Xcel Center, I walk outside and search for whatever gate will spit me out of the security zone the closest to the State Capitol. Riot police are shadowing a march organized by the Poor People’s Economic Human Rights Campaign and that march is scheduled to pass by the Capitol building and pick up some of the crowd from the Ripple Effect concert, where it is rumored Rage Against the Machine will be playing. It’ll be a convergence of sorts and things will either go well or they won’t.

A band called Anti-Flag is playing in front of the Capitol building when I show up. They’re playing a song called “Fuck Police Brutality” — but the mood is not heavy. There are riot police strolling around almost casually. One emerges from a portable bathroom and offers his hand to a partner with a grin. Another uses his long baton as a walking stick.

I’m getting reports of a robust police presence alongside the Poor People’s Economic Human Rights march, which is getting closer. I go out to find it and don’t. What I do find is riot police gathering at every intersection I can see along a street out of sight of the concert-goers. And they’re moving in.

I walk a wide perimeter around the Capitol area and find police gathering everywhere.

Behind the Capitol building, well out of view, bike-mounted police have gathered.

And now Rage Against the Machine is ready to go on. The sheriff is saying no. Riot police have taken positions behind the stage. The crowd is becoming angry. “Let them play! Let them play!”

The band finds its way into the crowd and a made-for-YouTube moment ensues: The band is leading the crowd in chanted renditions of its songs. Culminating in a roaring rendition of a song that climaxes with the chant: “Fuck you I won’t do what you tell me!” And somehow, this has seemed to calm people. They are getting their show. Suddenly the band members run towards the closest street, their entire crowd following them just as the marchers are arriving on the scene with their massive police escort.

Early lore already has the band leading the march. Not so. They ran directly to three idling blue Ford Expeditions. Drivers with coiled cables entering their ears like the Secret Service jumped into drivers seats and the bands motorcade honked its way through the marchers before speeding off.

The march looks and feels different from the others so far. There are familiar elements, to be sure. But it’s also a much more ethnically diverse group than the other marches and gatherings. Also, there are children in strollers and people in wheelchairs. And though they do not know it, they are marching into what, to my eyes, is the biggest single army of riot police since the convention began. I count exactly 100 riot police waiting for them several blocks away where the march is supposed to turn right.

When that right-hand turn goes off smoothly there are more riot police at the next intersection — and the one after that.

Just ahead of the Poor People’s Campaign organizers leading the march are four young men, dressed mostly in black, with black bandannas tied behind their heads in the fashion of cowboy bandits. This is the uniform of some of the protesters who did damage and became violent on Monday. A woman carrying a pink flag with a peace symbol on it comes up from behind them. There is no indication they were planning anything other than to finish out the march, but she is not convinced.

WOMAN: (referring to the black-clad riot police) Don’t become them!

YOUNG MAN IN BLACK: (to friend) What is this lady complaining about?

WOMAN: You’re taking their bait! What would have been a better headline today? What does your violence say?

YOUNG MAN IN BLACK: It says we can take back the power — and if more people would be fucking with us…

WOMAN: (pointing to the young men and yelling to the marchers) They’re trying to define us!

The march reaches its end at the walls of the Xcel’s security zone. Riot police stand behind the cage-like walls with pepper-spray canisters drawn.

Cheri Honkala, one of the organizers of the march, takes a bullhorn and gets a boost on a friend’s shoulders.

“Listen up! … we want to thank all of you for a peaceful march today (cheers) … We wanna show what kind of disciplined army we’ve got to put an end to poverty, hunger and homelessness!”

Next she orders the crowd to repeat her words–which they do:

“I promise …

“To be peaceful …

“Because we are nonviolent …

“We have people who are in wheelchairs …

“We have little, tiny, newborn babies …

“And children in strollers …

“So I promise not to do any dumb shit!”

Honkala also announced her intention to walk into the RNC security zone to deliver a giant American flag and notice of a citizen’s arrest for “crimes against humanity.” She did not name names.

And with that, she walked to the gate, escorted by supporters who sang: “I went back to the rich man’s home and took back what the rich man stole…”

She slipped the flag under the security wall and stuck the notice of arrest through a slot. “I want to practice my First Amendment rights,” she said through a bullhorn. “But not through a cage.”

And she walked back to her marchers, who began to turn around. Many — maybe 100 — remained. It is difficult to say how many of those people joined the march at the Capitol building. One protester, betraying dashed hopes for a clash, struck a street sign with his open hand and stormed off. An uncertain but still protest-inclined crowd remained.

Riot police were spilling into position from behind a building — the Dorothy Day Center (a homeless shelter). Playing on a giant screen fixed to the side of the Xcel there were photos, one after another, of John McCain’s war days.

The police began their march on the marchers — attempting to flush them out from the dead-end street where they had concluded their march.

People moved — some quicker than others.

Two women just ahead of the police line tried to unlock their bikes. The police line descended on them and one officer gave the women a hard shove with his baton. A protester yelled out: “This shit is sick, dude!” Another cried out: “Leave the bikes!” The police relented somewhat and the bikes were freed.

An officer announced the imminent use of chemical agents.

As the remaining protesters chanted “Whose streets!? Our streets!”, another line of riot police could be seen running into position behind them. Best anybody could tell in the early darkness, they were being surrounded, although I could see no indication of the kind of violence that might prompt such a tactical maneuver.

And that’s what it was from that point on: tactical. Like a military exercise. The display of law enforcement resources was staggering. Riot police could be seen in all directions, some with rifles for firing non-lethal “impact rounds” pointed at the protesters.

By now some of the protesters had left the dead-end street and were headed toward the Capitol. Then came the explosions and the smoke bombs. They sounded like sound grenades — or concussion bombs. They made an incredible sound. Screams could be heard and smoke seen rising. I ran with others to the scene of the explosions, but we were blocked by police.

Somebody shouted: “Which way do you want us to go?” There was no clear answer. Then suddenly the police parted a small bit and one of them yelled “Go now or be arrested. Go! Go! Go! Go!”

Once we turned the corner the police were quick to create another wall behind us. In front of us, a spectacle: a street lined with riot police — shoulder to shoulder — that stretched for blocks.

It was an exceptionally uneven response to what I and others had witnessed of the march. There were rogues, sure. But rogues of the insult-spitting variety. And occasionally there was a protester inspired to merely stand still or lay down before the police. Those incidents were limited and brief. Mostly, as police advanced, protesters retreated.

It went on like this — it seemed at times to go on forever. Watching the protesters and the police make their moves, both ever so slowly, was like watching a newborn’s eyes as its brain works out the world in front of it.

The police formed their final line alongside Babani’s Kurdish Restaurant, where blinds were mostly drawn and worried faces could be seen peeking through them.

Finally, after the charging, the shooting, one squirt of pepper spray and the unspoken threat of a small army heavy with gear and weaponry, an officer walked ahead of the crowd and gestured for members of the ever-present Minnesota Peace Team — self-selected nonviolent observers at the protests.

I stepped in on the conversation. Out of the gas mask and through the visor came a small, high voice: “We’d really like to collapse this line. If we can get people to go westbound we’d really appreciate it. Thank you.”

The Minnesota Peace Team members communicated the message to a dozen or so protesters and onlookers:

It was a process repeated one more time and then it was over. People stood for a few moments — shocked, confused, wondering which direction was west — and then cleared out. Police removed their gas masks and marched back the way they came.

All photos by Jeff Severns Guntzel. Contact him at jsguntzel at gmail dot com.