In his opening statement Jackson very purposely stipulated, “Let me make clear that while this law is first applied against German aggressors, the law includes, and if it is to serve a useful purpose it must condemn aggression by any other nations, including those which sit here now in judgment.”

Can there be a better reason for prosecuting George Bush and his administration for war crimes than those words from the chief prosecutor of the Nazis, a U.S. Supreme Court Justice, with the full support of the U.S. government? Robert Jackson’s words and the values this nation claims to stand for provide sufficient moral basis for putting Bush and Cheney, their underlings who implemented their policies and the perverted legal minds who justified them all in the dock. If those are not sufficient reasons, there is a long list of binding law and treaties — written in black and white in surprisingly plain English.

Bush imagined, and his attorneys advised, that he could simply wave aside these laws with “they don’t apply.” Imagine how a judge would treat even a simple traffic court defendant who brazenly stated the law was only a quaint notion, just “words on paper?”

Masses of people and an embarrassingly small number of their elected representatives in this country read the law for themselves and demanded otherwise, only to be silenced by the Guardians of Reality in the corporate news media.

But it’s all there, where it has been for 220 years, the Constitution’s “supremacy clause,” Article II, section 4, and in the War Crimes Act of 1996 (18USC §2441). They provide the authority to make additional treaties legally binding — no matter how much former White House lawyers David Addington and John Yoo may object.

Those additional treaties include among others, the Geneva Conventions, the Nuremberg rulings, the Laws and Customs of War on Land and UN General Assembly Resolution 3314. To give just a snapshot of how serious these laws are, consider this portion of 18 USC 2441 which defines a war crime as “a grave breach in any of the international conventions signed at Geneva 12 August 1949, or any protocol to such convention to which the United States is a party…” The guilty can be “fined under this title or imprisoned for life or any term of years, or both, and if death results to the victim, shall also be subject to the penalty of death.”

Here, Justice Jackson answers another question about war crimes — who bears the greater responsibility: those who committed barbaric acts in the field or those who created the conditions for barbarism?

The case as presented by the United States will be concerned with the brains and authority back of all the crimes. These defendants were men of a station and rank that does not soil its own hands with blood. They were men who knew how to use lesser folk as tools. We want to reach the planners and designers, the inciters and leaders without whose evil architecture the world would not have been for so long scourged with the violence and lawlessness, and wracked with the agonies and convulsions, of this terrible war.

And yet it is not just because Bush violated the Constitution and federal law that he and his lieutenants must be prosecuted.

At Nuremberg, the foremost crime identified was starting a “war of aggression,” later codified by U.N. Resolution 3314, Art. 5, as “a crime against international peace.” Launching a war of aggression, as Hitler did against Poland, is considered so monstrous that the nation responsible can then be charged with “war crimes” and “crimes against humanity,” spelled out in detail in the Geneva Conventions. As Tom Paine said long before the U.N. formalized the definition of aggression, “He who is the author of a war lets loose the whole contagion of Hell and opens a vein that bleeds a nation to death.

A small sampling of the contagion of Hell let loose by Bush includes illegally invading a sovereign state, using banned weapons such as white phosphorous and napalm, bombing hospitals and civilian infrastructure, withholding aid and medical supplies, terrorizing and knowingly killing civilians, torturing prisoners, killing a million people and displacing four million more in Iraq alone.

Following World War II, humanity resolved that wars do more than spark a series of loathsome, individual crimes. Leaders responsible for a war actually commit crimes against the entirety of humanity. They inflict harm on every human being, something that must be put right before humanity can be restored.

There is a final reason why we must prosecute Bush and Co. It is not what some argue, although they point to a serious danger: that Bush trashed the law and usurped powers, encouraging future presidents to expand where he left off. Such reasons are about George Bush and those who hold the office after him, but in the final analysis this is about us.

We are complicit in the horrors of this administration. We can claim neither ignorance nor innocence. We are complicit by the very fact that we are citizens of the United States, more so because we paid for the war, and even more so for this reason. Listen to a village sheik I met in Iraq describe it better than I ever could.

I met this man in a small farming village one afternoon in early 2004. He described how he and a dozen others were swept up in a raid by the U.S. Army and detained on a bare patch of ground surrounded by concertina wire. They had no shelter and but six blankets. They dug a hole with their hands for a toilet. They had to beg for water until one time it rained for three days straight and they remained on that open ground. He somehow found the graciousness to say he understood there was a difference between the American people and our government. Then through his tears he added, “But you say you live in a democracy. How can this be happening to us?”

Do we? Whether or not we bring our own government officials to justice for their crimes will determine the answer.

In May 2003, the same month that George W. Bush stood on an aircraft carrier off California declaring “Mission Accomplished,” and a month after Iraqis began organizing a grassroots armed resistance, Bingham, was on assignment in Baghdad’s Adhamiya district, hot on the trail of the last sighting of Saddam Hussein.

While there, the 39-year-old photojournalist got a tour of the largest Sunni mosque in Baghdad, named after the seventh century imam, Abu Hanifa. Bingham recalled that, as she drove away from the mosque, her translator mentioned that one of the men they’d just met said he was with the resistance. She filed this away in the back of her mind.

Before returning to the U.S. the next month, Bingham watched news reports, trying unsuccessfully to find out who was beginning to violently oppose the U.S. occupation and why. She talked with a photographer-colleague, Steve Connors, a former British Army MP, who had observed the same lack of coverage.

Between them they had 33 years experience covering conflict zones and decided to collaborate on reporting what till now has been the most visibly under-reported story of the Iraq war. By August they were back in Iraq for another 10 months, Connors to film and Bingham to write.

“This film is seen as somehow really radical,” the 48 year-old Connors said. “I’ve covered 10 conflicts and this is the first time I’ve heard it’s radical to cover the other side. As a German friend of mine asked, ‘Americans consider this news?’”

Bingham added, “It’s just a really important story. If your work is covering conflict, it’s just what you do. You cover both sides, or in some cases three or four sides.”

“Imagine if all the reporting from Chechnya was done through Russia ’s point of view,” Connors interjected, “Or if all the news about Palestine came through Israel? In broader terms it’s a ridiculous notion.”

“We still apply a healthy dose of journalistic skepticism,” Bingham said. “We didn’t take at face value everything we were told. That’s why when people say to us, ‘This is biased, it only presents one side,’ we say yes, it does only present one side but it’s as honest as we can get. Most of the time we’re bombarded by one-sided coverage from the U.S. point of view.” Finished Connors, “Even including who from the other side gets quoted.”

One example of how much difference perspective makes, Connors said, can be as simple as the usage of the term “Sunni triangle.”

“I never heard that term from an Iraqi. There are many Sunnis living there, but that area is majority Shia, so Iraqis would never call it that. It’s another example of how all our news comes from the lens of the military.”

“Yes. America ,” Connors quickly answered when asked if the pair had a particular audience in mind when they made “Meeting Resistance.” Added Bingham, “This is basic journalism. We want to make it available to whoever can get their hands on it.”

One audience the film was made available to was a roomful of active duty soldiers, officers and enlisted, in Baghdad earlier this month. ABC News was there and asked two young soldiers who patrol Baghdad nearly every day with the Third Infantry Division, what they thought after seeing the documentary.

Sgt. Mike Kelley told ABC, “When you try to be compassionate and see things from their point of view, this is sort of reinforcing that, saying yeah, this really is how they feel. They’re normal people and they’re pissed off because we’re here and we’re not welcome.”

Added Specialist Travis Barnes, “We just don’t know all the rich details that make these people up and tell us who they are and why they behave the way they behave, and their history. It’s stuff we need to know.”

One thing that surprised the filmmakers as they were in the midst of their project was how quickly a decentralized resistance developed against the occupation.

Bingham recalled that, “We didn’t know what to expect at all, but what we found was that the vast majority of people we spoke with didn’t wait to see how the administration of Baghdad was going to go. They just saw they were being occupied and that occupation required a response. Most of the people we interviewed were organizing within a week (of the fall of the Saddam Hussein government in early April, 2003), finding people to work with.”

“None of these people required leadership,” Connors submitted. “No one told them what to do; they did it as an act of personal conscience. And if you follow that line of thought you can see that a leader in that situation is simply someone who has a few more skills than you do. If, after a while, he veers off from opposing the occupation he might get killed, or in some fashion you settle with him and get another leader. In a strange way, it’s almost democratic.”

One factor that may explain the relative quickness of the Sunni resistance, Bingham surmised, was that “Sunnis have more of what we would call a ‘Protestant’ view of their religion. They knew they were right because of their individual interpretation of the Koran; whereas the Shia have a more Catholic relationship with God, with a worldly spiritual leader who interprets the Koran for them.”

Both journalists acknowledged that the process of making their seminal film left its mark on them.

“It’s given me a sense of empowerment,” Connors offered. “There are of course many difficulties — raising money and all that, but we’ve done it all without the resources of a major corporation. To be at as many screenings as we can to answer questions, night after night, is one way of demonstrating ‘We are not a corporation . . . here’s what we found, take it or leave it.’ Theoretically, you always know you can do that, but to actually do it and go up against all established thought, that’s strengthening.”

Bingham observed that she learned how much of a challenge a project like this is and how important it is to have someone to work with who feels just as strongly.

“We’ve been called intrepid, insistent and dogged,” the Louisville, Kentucky native explained. “When you cover conflict, especially when your country is involved, giving up is unacceptable. But if I was doing this by myself I think I would have given up.”

She added that “To see how our policies are carried out overseas; to be on the sharp end of that, you get a very different view of how we’re perceived . . . and how I perceived my own country. You know, the myth of the democratic and free America is somewhat real on some level, but when you are faced with the hypocrisy of our actions in light of those values, it’s a really tough thing to reconcile. I found I was trying to hold the both of those realities together or consider perhaps one may not be true. It truly challenges your core beliefs.”

An example of that was when a heckler in New York tried to put her into a corner by demanding to know if she was “an American or a journalist?” “If you’re gonna make me choose,” Bingham answered him, “I’d say ‘a journalist.’”

Asked if she would have answered that way a few years ago, she thought a moment and replied, “Yes, but not as quickly.”

Her collaborator interjected, “Six years ago that question would never have been asked. Now certainly, we’ve heard allegations of treason.”

Considering another project is premature, Connors explained. “We feel committed to getting this film to where the discussions we have after each screening are happening all over the country. Then we can feel like we can take a rest and look at another project.”

Bingham concluded by looking beyond the particular message of “Meeting Resistance.” “This film is clearly about Iraq; it is clearly shaped by the culture, religion and history of Iraq. But it is also a film about the human condition under occupation as seen through this history . . . we shouldn’t be surprised.”

Inside, a first time visitor is at least impressed if not overwhelmed, waiting to enter the House or Senate gallery. A mural entirely dominating one stairwell titled, “Westward the Course of Empire Takes Its Way,” depicts heroic, windswept pioneer families cresting a mountain pass. Dark, formal portraits of the icons of American history look down from within ornate, gold frames. The illuminated words of founding fathers inscribed on marble walls fairly shout hosannas to liberty, freedom and democracy. By the time a visitor approaches the final security checkpoint immediately outside the gallery itself, mere mortals about to view the workings of the gods are properly awed; particularly if they’ve read the back of their gallery pass which states:

Rules of the Gallery

Nothing may be taken into the Galleries other than articles of clothing and handbags.

Guests must remain seated and refrain from reading, writing, smoking, eating, drinking, applauding or picture taking.

Front railing must be kept clear of all objects and guests must not lean on railings.

Appropriate hats may be worn by gentlemen for religious purposes only.

Any disturbance or infraction of these rules is justification for expulsion from the Galleries.

The Sergeant at Arms

Such was the setting on September 20, 2007, when Linda Wiener, Leah Bolger and I walked into the gallery overlooking a session of the U.S. House of Representatives.

In large letters our banner read, “FUNDING THE WAR IS KILLING OUR TROOPS” and it had a fine pedigree — only hours before it was a tablecloth at the trendy Washington Chop House where a sympathetic busboy donated it to the cause. Neatly folded and tucked into my pants, it made it past every security check except the last, electronic one which beeped at the cell phone I’d forgotten in my pocket. It seemed fitting that a banner with such a prestigious past should hang momentarily from the balcony of the House gallery, but such was not to be.

We were seated in a coveted first row, immediately behind the balcony railing, prepared to send our message at least verbally. Below us, the Acting Speaker of the House was conducting a vote described on a small, electronic scoreboard only as “On the previous question.” Voting consisted of a surprisingly raucous, undisciplined period when members walked around and talked loudly with their colleagues. To the untrained eye it appeared entirely chaotic. We waited for two such votes on equally mysterious questions and decided to do our presentation over the noise and bustle below.

I put on my blue garrison cap with white letters spelling “Veterans For Peace,” and stood up with Linda. In unison, we said loudly and clearly, “Congress! Congress! Funding the war is killing our troops. Please stop.” About half the members on the floor of the US House of Representatives stopped talking and turned to look. We were able to repeat our message a couple more times before the Acting Speaker pounded a gavel and said the magic words to the Sergeant-at-Arms and Capitol Hill Police: “Restore order!” Within seconds I felt a strong hand on my arm and heard a voice say, “Sir, come with me!” We accepted his invitation but continued delivering our message on the way out and in the hallway where we were quickly handcuffed and propelled towards the elevator.

After a 30-hour twilight of custody by the Capitol Police, DC Metropolitan Police, and finally US Marshals, I appeared before the judge in DC Superior Court for less than five minutes. My attorney, a third-year law student from the Georgetown Law Clinic successfully rebuffed the prosecutor’s request that I be given a “stay away” order preventing me from stepping foot in the several Congressional Office Buildings, the Capitol, and sundry bits of property adjacent to them all. I was told to return for a “status hearing” on October 30th, and released on my own recognizance.

That jail experience, although relatively short, was degrading as all jail experiences are intended to be. Going back to Washington DC for a status hearing and again for a trial is costly and inconvenient. But let’s face it. Many, many people in social justice movements before us have paid much more dearly than we’re asked to. For the most part, peace protesters these days aren’t being clubbed mercilessly, or disappeared into a gulag of prisons, or tortured when we’re arrested. We’re not yet under martial law, subject to being swept off the streets at a whim, nor are we being gunned down for protesting. That’s why it is so very important that we step forward now, before things get that bad, and demand an end to this war and justice for Iraqis and our returning troops.

Officer Wilson of the Capitol Police, whom I’ve gotten to know after a couple trips through his booking facility, asked, “Is it worth it? You know you’re not going to stop the war.” I have to admit that just that morning on my way to the Capitol I considered saying “the hell with it” and going home. I had just been arrested September 15th with 200 others on the grounds of the Capitol. I knew this next arrest would entail an overnight stay in the D.C. Metro Police lockup and more trips to Washington for court appearances. One more arrest wasn’t going to end the war. But I thought of the absolute hell experienced by the people of Iraq and the relative hell experienced by our soldiers occupying them; of the physical and mental anguishes they suffer and will continue to suffer for years to come; of the culpability I share in this criminal war. The logic seemed simple and clear to me: this was something I could do, therefore I must do it. In trying to end this war using nonviolence, such actions are among the most significant a person can take. So I answered Officer Wilson, “Yes, it’s worth it,” and tried unsuccessfully to explain my position to someone with a very different view of the world.

Later, I learned that on the day Linda spoke out and were arrested, 36 activists were arrested elsewhere in the Capitol Building, doing a die-in and reading the names of people killed in the war as a tour group of students watched.

From that one day’s experience, imagine what would happen if we decided to educate Congress with a variety of short speeches four times a day, for four days a week, for two weeks. That would take just 32 people; 64 people could keep it going for a month. Then, the next time 100,000 people come to DC for a demonstration and 5,000 of them do a die-in, what would happen if they were prepared to stay there indefinitely — and got on their phones to tell their friends to join them — and within days we had several times that number filling the streets, filling the jails? Now that actually begins to stop business as usual in Washington.

We can do it; therefore we must!

Contingents of Iraq Veterans Against the War (IVAW ) and Veterans for Peace lined up at the front of the march, sponsored by the International A.N.S.W.E.R. Coalition, stepping off on Pennsylvania Avenue near the White House. Hundreds of mostly youthful “marshalls” formed a long line on either side of the route, holding hands and placing themselves between the crowds filling the sidewalks and the marchers, later estimated by wire services at 100,000 people.

One sign visible in enormous block letters invited everyone to, “Stand with Maine. End this War,” another proclaimed “Funding the War is Killing the Troops.” An updated version of a chant not heard since Richard Nixon occupied the White House echoed, “Bush. Pull Out. Like Your Father Should Have.” Not far behind the veterans stood Santa Claus in full regalia on 10-foot stilts holding a sign that read, “Troops Home Before Christmas.”

One sight, never before seen in a protest march nor certainly any parade in the nation, was the IVAW “color guard.” Geoff Millard, President DC Chapter of IVAW, dressed in full desert camouflage barked, “IVAW. Fall in. Columns of four.” Immediately, to the front of the rows of veterans marched seven of their number, each holding erect a different flag.

Following tradition, the U.S. flag was in the lead, except this time it was upside-down. In a straight line followed six more flags, all black, each with a different corporate logo — one for Halliburton Corp., Bechtel Corp., Lockheed-Martin Corp., Blackwatch Corp., CACI Corp., and Dyncorp Corp — all on the very short list of winners in this conflict. Making the color guard stand out even more prominently in grim relief, Carlos Arrendondo solemnly pulled a small, flag-draped casket on a carriage. On the casket stood the oversized photograph of his son that accompanies him everywhere, and a pair of empty, desert combat boots that belonged to him before he was killed in Iraq.

The words spoken by the solemn-faced IVAW members were even more arresting than the visuals they carried. A young vet led a sing-song, call-and-response cadence familiar to soldiers everywhere. The answers echoed off the houses of power and back to him. “Who Are We?” “IRAQ VETERANS.” “Whatta We Say?” “WAR IS NOT A GAME!” A platoon of America’s finest young men and women, raised in a society that idolizes all things martial, indoctrinated during months of basic training, highly skilled as riflemen, tank operators, police, satellite communications operators and medics — proficient in every skill needed to run the world’s most powerful military, marched confidently down the main street of their nation’s capital, chanting “Troops Out Now. Iraq for Iraqis” and “No Justice, No Peace. US Out of the Middle East!”

In between such chants, individual vets took their turns at a bullhorn for longer, more thoughtful comments.

Eli Israel, a native Kentuckian who had already completed a hitch in the Marines and then enlisted in the Army after September 11, 2001, repeated the Enlistment Oath taken by every person joining the military, that swears them to protect and defend the US Constitution against “all enemies, foreign and domestic.” He asked the crowds on the sidewalks to consider what they would do “when your leaders tell you to fight an unjust war based on lies. The occupation of Iraq is a form of terrorism and we refuse to support it!”

With his comrades falling quiet and raising their fists high in the air in salute, the former Military Secret Security sergeant who guarded General Petraeus “and all those other bastards,” said “We walk in silence for our brothers and sisters who died for a lie. We didn’t join the military to become slaves to the military-industrial complex. We joined to serve our country.”

Minutes later, the IVAW’s confident message came under attack as their front rank approached a thousand or so angry, screaming people calling themselves “A Gathering of Eagles,” occupying three blocks of sidewalk reserved for them by police. Their snarled taunts and invective were quickly drowned when the vets bellowed in unison, “Support the Troops. WE ARE THE TROOPS!” Then in one of the most memorable moments of the day, IVAW Board of Directors member, Adam Kokesh, marching in command alongside the color guard, ordered, “Column, HALT! Left FACE!” whereupon he spun on his heel, faced the angry crowd, and held for several long seconds his best USMC salute. The surprise maneuver left the gathered eagles momentarily taken aback and the crowd cheering.

En route, the marchers were treated to a vista possible only in Washington, DC, as the Capitol Building, backed by a perfectly blue sky, appeared to almost float on moorings. Its looming presence foretold dramatic events soon to happen on its steps.

The march concluded at the base of several flights of stairs leading to the front entrance of the Capitol Building. When an air raid siren blew the signal, about a thousand people, led by the IVAW and VFP, “died” and fell to the ground. They remained in repose for a half hour or more as kevlar-vested Capitol Hill Police officers lined a low barricade blocking entrance to the stairs, and a recording played, of former President Eisenhower reading his farewell address warning the nation of a “military-industrial complex.”

As Ike droned on, photographers snapped pictures of uniformed US soldiers lying “dead” on the steps of their Capitol Building. One of the most popular of the day was the image of an upside-down US flag standing in stark contrast to the white, stately Capitol. Tension could be felt in the air.

The final action began to move when Kokesh stood to read a letter he had sent to members of Congress.

Dear Congress,

We have come before you today with a simple message: as a representation of the people you have failed us and you have blood on your hands. This is blood that the American people will not allow to continue to be spilled in our name any longer. Today we are marching in solidarity with the Iraqi people who want the occupation to end. It is fully within your power to stop this tragedy.

You have just heard the testimony of General Petraeus and Ambassador Crocker. General Casey was replaced by General Petraeus because he would not support the President’s agenda of keeping as many troops deployed as long as possible, keeping our military teetering at the breaking point. General Petraeus was selected for this position not only because of his abilities as a soldier, but also for political purposes. When he testified before you he was acting in his role as a political appointee. He told you the surge was working. This is the same absurd optimism that we have been hearing since the beginning of this occupation from its proponents: the insurgency is in its last throes; we are turning the corner. Why do you still believe these people?

We have come before you to ask that you consider the cost in human life of this conflict so far. We are also here to tell you that we will not stand for this corruption of our democracy any longer. We the people are in the streets. We the people are fed up. We the people are ready to rise up and take back our democracy.

Signed,

– The Empowered Patriots

With that, Kokesh and the color guard attempted to go over the police barricade, only to be quickly arrested. More IVAW member followed his steps, meeting the same fate. Then, VFP members and people all along the length of the barricade began climbing over it and some were able to begin walking up the main stairs before the increasingly busy police caught up with them. Some of the arrestees refused to walk after being handcuffed so police carried them bodily up many marble steps to a portico off the main entrance.

Before long the number of those arrested reached 200. Everyone was cuffed and instructed to sit or kneel down. As an indication of the spirit that would be frequently displayed while they were held 14 hours for “processing,” several veterans joined by others, rose to their feet, chanting, “Stand Against the War. Stand Against the War.”

The long wait in line alongside the Capitol Building to get “processed” was exceeded several times over by the seemingly-interminable time spent sitting on buses, then waiting expectantly for the processing to get underway in a serious fashion so people could regain their liberty. Conditions, in addition to the pain of being handcuffed behind one’s back, were difficult in the holding area. This, together with the time dragging on, prompted several activists to chafe at their detention and lead a number of well-supported chants and jeers loudly directed at the police — none of which prevented several serious conversations between detainees and police about the war and occupation in Iraq.

Three o’clock in the morning and then five o’clock came and went. Eventually the police, as some more experienced activists contended, decided to break the logjam and assigned more of their number to move people through the “processing” at a reasonable speed. “They want to make us as uncomfortable as possible, to discourage us from doing anything like this again,” he said.

As the number waiting to be processed slowly dwindled, Keen Bahtt, a recent college grad from New York, said the lack of water for most of the detention period, and the lack of food for nearly all of it, caused him to become anxious for the health of two elderly detainees. “Nurse Ratched,” as he called the matronly female police captain in charge, claimed the delays were caused primarily by the NCIC computer being overwhelmed, and an overly complex booking procedure.

Tentative dawn sunlight marked a new day. Eventually, it became strong enough to warm the last few demonstraters walking out the door to their freedom. And the bold tactics of the previous day gave reason for some of them to think that perhaps a new day was dawning for the peace movement as well.

A first-time participant in Washington demonstrations, Rick Rusch, from Fremont, Ohio captured that hope as well as anyone. The Army veteran said, “This is what I was hoping to do. I’m glad to see us heat things up.”