Home > A Cafe Opens to Serve a Mission to End the War
Nuclear Wars and conflicts Health USA
By MICHELLE YORK
On Veterans Day, John Hartlaub wandered into the newest
cafe in Watertown, N.Y.
It was sparsely furnished, with three Internet
stations, a black sofa and an offering of hot or cold
cider. A customer who actually wanted coffee would have
to buy it a few doors away.
Mr. Hartlaub stayed most of the afternoon anyway. He
browsed a few dozen military books for sale, then
pulled up a folding chair to watch "Poison Dust," a
documentary about the health effects of depleted
uranium weapons on soldiers returning from Iraq.
He left with mostly positive feelings. "It could end up
being very informative and helpful," said Mr. Hartlaub,
41, who has served in the military on and off since
1985.
The organizers of the cafe were hoping for such a
reaction. But, being not far from the largest military
installation in the Northeast, they are prepared for
backlash, too.
They say theirs is the country’s first G.I. coffeehouse
for the war in Iraq. It is a project of the peace
movement that is focused on changing opinions within
the military, with an ultimate goal of ending the war.
During the Vietnam War, about 20 G.I. coffeehouses, as
they were known, operated around the country. Each was
close to a large military base and was intended to
support the efforts of soldiers who were against the
war. The coffeehouses were incubators for war
resistance and part of the counterculture. Janis Joplin
and Jimi Hendrix were on the jukebox. A decent cup of
coffee was on the menu.
"It was extremely important," said David Zeiger, the
writer and director of "Sir! No Sir!" a 2005
documentary about the G.I. movement to end the Vietnam
War. "One thing coffeehouses will do is link civilians
and soldiers."
The idea is that the two can meet, learn about
movements against the war and talk about the
contradictions of what the public hears versus what
soldiers have witnessed, he said. In the past,
coffeehouse patrons were sometimes subjected to arrests
and intimidation. A cafe in Mountain Home, Idaho, was
firebombed, and another near Camp Pendleton, Calif.,
was shot up.
But the main organizer of Watertown’s new coffeehouse,
called Different Drummer Internet Cafe, said he did not
expect such confrontations this time around. "The
military today is very different, and we have to adapt
to that," said Tod Ensign, the organizer, who is also a
lawyer and director of Citizen Soldier, a veterans
advocacy group in New York City. "The soldiers are all
volunteers. The Vietnam protests were driven very much
by the draft."
After Mr. Ensign decided this year to open the
coffeehouse, he sent out a few dozen letters asking for
financing, including one to the Ben & Jerry’s
Foundation. "They talk a lot about peace," he said.
The appeals went unanswered. Undeterred, he used small
donations from activists, farm workers and war
resistance leagues to start the project, which he
estimates will cost $50,000 a year. He chose Watertown,
a city of 27,000 people near the Canadian border and
Fort Drum, home of the 10th Mountain Division. The
division has deployed more soldiers in Iraq and
Afghanistan than any other in the Army.
Mr. Ensign has three goals for the cafe. They are to
allow the free exchange of ideas, to provide accurate
information and to be an enjoyable gathering place,
with live bands and karaoke. He and his supporters have
not decided whether they will serve coffee.
Most in the community do not seem to know what to make
of the cafe, several people said. Watertown’s mayor,
Jeffrey E. Graham, said he did not attend its ribbon
cutting on Oct. 27. In part, because it was
inconvenient and in part because he was not sure of the
cafe’s purpose. "I don’t think people want to be openly
antiwar for fear of dissing the families that make that
sacrifice," he said. "On the other hand, I don’t see
any harm."
In the cafe’s first three weeks, foot traffic has been
minimal. Its manager, Cinthia Mercante, who served for
eight years in the military before the Persian Gulf war
started, recently found herself calling out to a few
soldiers hovering near the entrance: "Folks, you can
come in. We won’t bite."
Paul Foley, a volunteer who works in highway design,
said he hoped the community would warm up to the cafe.
"There’s been a little talk," he said. "But the people
who come will see that we’re not dangerous rabble-
rousers. We’re just giving people a place to talk."