I recently got together with an old Brooklyn friend and fellow veteran of the Anti-Vietnam War Movement. As we now both live in San Francisco, he expressed regret that he could not participate in the demonstrations planned to coincide with the Republican Convention in New York in September. Another friend sends me enthusiastic e-mail updates about the anti-Bush activities slated for that week. But rather than feeling inspired, I am far more chagrined. It strikes me that the romance of the old anti-war movement has outstripped its realities. Those of us who oppose the Iraq war and the re-election of George W. Bush stand poised to relive the mistakes of the past.

The anti-war movement of the 1960s was a grass-roots mass movement that had both its successes and its failures. In its early years, it mobilized support through non-violent marches that attracted tens of thousands of protestors whose dignity and numbers challenged the conscience of a nation and led others to question to wisdom of the Vietnam War. The escalation of that conflict, however, combined with the growing racial tensions of the mid-1960s and the rise of the counterculture, led to a growing political and cultural radicalization. After 1967 the anti-war movement and its allies on the New Left adopted an increasingly confrontational strategy, one that alienated far more people than it converted.

The results were disastrous. While the anti-war movement continued to grow, so did the alarm of a majority of Americans who feared that a breakdown of respect and discipline threatened the nation. Many people had found even the non-violent protests of the Civil Rights and Anti-War Movements threatening to their sense of stability. Politicians like Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan, and George Wallace capitalized on these concerns, invoking the issue of “law and order.” This potent phrase was not simply, as many have contended, a code for opposition to racial progress. It also reflected deep-seated concerns over the rejection of propriety and the celebration of disruption disguised as protest.

These opposing worldviews met in the streets of Chicago in 1968 during the Democratic Convention. While many peace groups hoped to stage traditional non-violent protests, more radical forces who believed that the outcome of the presidential election was irrelevant, sought to expose the nature of what they called the “American police state.” Mayor Richard Daley exacerbated matters with a restrictive policy on parade and camping permits. Protestors taunted police, who waded into crowds with nightsticks and tear gas, mercilessly beating trapped demonstrators blocked from escaping. On the convention floor, Connecticut Senator Abraham Ribicoff excoriated Mayor Daley for his “Gestapo tactics.” An investigation would later describe the events as a “police riot,” placing the major blame for the violence on the Chicago police force.

As they re-assembled in the streets, demonstrators memorably chanted, “The whole world is watching.” But what the world, and especially the American nation saw and perceived, was not that which horrified liberals and leftists. Polls revealed that the vast majority of Americans placed the blame not on the police, but on the protestors. The debacle in Chicago proved a blow from which Hubert Humphrey’s presidential campaign never recovered. In an election decided by a margin similar to the tight 2000 balloting, the adverse reaction to the events in Chicago directly influenced the outcome. Richard Nixon became president; the Vietnam War continued for five more years; and an increasingly confrontational American Left continued to lose touch with the mainstream, facilitating the conservative triumph that has characterized American politics in succeeding decades.

There are some clear differences between 1968 and 2004. In 1968 the demonstrations attacked the Democratic Party, which received the negative fallout. This year, the target is the Republicans. But there seems little way that the protests will reflect negatively or have any effect on Republican chances. The determination of fringe political groups to indulge in “street theater” and disruptive tactics has increased. Legitimate security concerns coupled with overly stringent policies and preparations by New York City’s Bloomberg Administration have enhanced the possibility of violent conflict. Cable news networks now will broadcast and rebroadcast the chaos to an ever wider audience. The only possible beneficiary of this scenario is George W. Bush, who may well, as Richard Nixon did in 1968, ride to victory in a close race based on the public reaction to the protests.

There is, of course, an alternative for the hundreds of thousands of people who wish to make their displeasure known. They can stay home and channel their considerable energies into the electoral process, or instead of traveling to New York, they can visit a swing state persuading individual voters one by one of the validity of their cause. One of the many catchphrases of the sixties pondered, “What if they gave a war and nobody came?” In 2004, we might ask. “What if they gave an anti-war demonstration and no one came?” The answer: Everyone was too busy working to secure change.