AMY GOODMAN, JUAN GONZÁLEZ and NERMEEN SHAIKH: From New York, this is Democracy Now!

AMY GOODMAN: It is our absolute honor to welcome you all here to Democracy Now!’s 30th anniversary. It is hard to contemplate a celebration at this time, amidst the U.S.-Israeli war on Iran and other armed conflicts, rising authoritarianism, power-hungry billionaires and the worsening climate catastrophe, but gatherings like this are essential, to remind us that the gathering storm, despite the forces of oppression that threaten us all on the planet, there is a force more powerful. And that is all of you gathered here tonight at Riverside Church, but in all over this country and around the world, of people joining together, organizing for peace and justice.

It was in this very sanctuary here in Riverside Church that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. gave his famous speech “Beyond Vietnam: A Time to Break Silence” on April 4th, 1967, a year to the day before he was assassinated in Memphis. King called out in that speech “the greatest purveyor of violence in the world today: my own government,” he said. Dr. King warned, “When machines and computers, profit motives and property rights are considered more important than people, the giant triplets of racism, extreme materialism and militarism are incapable of being conquered.” How prescient he was. And, you know, at the time, King was attacked viciously and publicly for opposing the war. Life magazine accused him in an editorial of betraying the cause for which he has worked for so long, adding his speech was a “demagogic slander that sounded like a script for Radio Hanoi.” King, though, was undeterred, and his commitment to peace, despite enormous pressure to back off, should be a lesson for us all today.

Yes, tonight is a celebration, not only of 30 years of Democracy Now!, but of the resilience of people and movements we strive to cover in this country and around the world. This is such an honor to be here with you and to be with my colleagues, Juan González and Nermeen Shaikh and the whole family.

We’re going to take you — take you on a journey today. We’re going to take you on a journey with — oh, we’ll be talking to Angela Davis. We’ll be hearing Patti Smith. There was a silver lining to that bomb cyclone of February 23rd, and that’s that Patti became available. And the great filmmaker and artist and citizen of the world, Michael Stipe, will also be performing. And we’re going to hear from the Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Mosab Abu Toha and the great V., the world-renowned playwright. That’s all coming up. And we’re going to be playing clips of a new film out on Democracy Now!, that you’ll be getting a sneak peek to, called Steal This Story, Please! We’re also going to hear from Hurray for the Riff Raff.

But before all of that, I also wanted to note people in the audience. I am so honored that Delroy Lindo flew across the country. Delroy, I want to say Delroy who was nominated for an Oscar in his astounding performance in Sinners. But, Delroy, the 50 years that you have given to us on stage, in film, inspiring us, moving us, I can’t wait for that memoir next year. And then there’s the great professor Rashid Khalidi, who is sitting right in front. Thank you for your work of decades. And I want to welcome Leqaa Kordia, not only to this space today, but out of jail and ICE prison for almost a year. Thank you for gracing us with your presence. And there are so many others. We’re also going to hear Aaron Dessner. I can’t believe you came tonight. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

But we’re going to take you on a journey of those 30 years, and we’re going to begin back at the beginning. You know, we were just on nine stations when we started, together with Juan, in 1996, the only daily election show in public broadcasting. We were going to wrap right up after the election. But then people wanted the show more after the election than before. And so it grew. But let’s go back to the beginning.

Also, by the way, just an enormous shoutout to Patti Galluzzi, who helped make tonight possible, and to all of our families who are here today. I want to say thank you to my brothers, Steve, David and Dan, who have come out, and my nephews and nieces. What a difference it makes to not only see them as my family, but these great guys, the whole Democracy Now! team, and all of you. None of us can do this alone. We’re all in this together. Hey, Maggie Gyllenhaal and Peter Sarsgaard. Maggie, I am looking forward to that film, The Bride, and for all your great work, and, Peter, wow.

So, let’s go back to Democracy Now! 30 years ago.

AMY GOODMAN: Democracy Now! began on nine radio stations in 1996. We were a daily morning show providing a forum to challenge those in power and to bring out the voices of people who were not usually heard.

Juan González is a columnist with the Daily News in New York. He is also my co-host here. The Village Voice calls him “the most radical person in the above-it-all world of New York daily journalism.”

JUAN GONZÁLEZ: The human rights abuses that occur, especially in the maquiladoras and in Tijuana. Yet Vicente Fox …

When we first started this little radio show, my colleagues in the commercial media would constantly tell me, “What are you doing working with that little radical radio station that nobody listens to, you know, and why are you wasting your time with that?” And I would say, “Listen, the audience of Democracy Now! is completely different than the readership of the New York Daily News. You have no idea who we are reaching.” I always saw my role in journalism as helping to shape a different narrative. I was an advocacy journalist long before the term was developed, right? Because I knew from the beginning I can only see the world through my eyes.

Up until this time, there wasn’t a real radical movement. There was a movement of the mouth. And now there’s a real movement and a sense of people committed to social change.

I was one of the founding members of the Young Lords in New York City. We probably got the most favorable news coverage of any revolutionary organization of the 1960s and ’70s. But it was no accident. We cultivated that image.

REPORTER: The Lords have a strong sense of community, and while they may be regarded as a threat to the white establishment downtown, their stock here in El Barrio is rising rapidly.

JUAN GONZÁLEZ: We understood the importance of being able to package our message and our stories for the commercial and corporate media. And we learned that if you don’t fashion your own narrative, others will do it for you.

CALLER: I don’t hear the business community complaining about the fact that they have inexpensive labor.

JUAN GONZÁLEZ: The key thing about Democracy Now! is that we just let people talk.

CALLER: Members of the local police department admitted …

JUAN GONZÁLEZ: The more you hear people talk, you get a better sense of what they stand for, and you can make up your mind yourself.

AMY GOODMAN: That’s an excerpt of a film that’s to be released around the country on April 10th, starting at the IFC here in New York, and we’re going to talk more about that soon. But most importantly right now, this is Juan González!

JUAN GONZÁLEZ: Thank you. Thank you to Amy and Nermeen and the rest of the DN! team.

Thirty years is a long time to be doing anything, especially when it is a third or fourth act in one’s life, which is why I told Amy a few months ago that this will be my last year at Democracy Now!, though we haven’t yet settled on the exact date. As this clip showed, by the time I started co-hosting this show in 1996, I’d already been working as a journalist in the corporate press for more than 20 years, including some short stints with the Spanish-language press.

More importantly, I’d been immersed in the organizing and building of revolutionary and mass progressive movements even longer than that, beginning with my involvement in the historic Columbia student strike of 1968 and my work with SDS, then to the founding of the Young Lords, as mentioned in the clip, from 1969 to '74, where I was privileged to be part of the most brilliant, charismatic and dedicated group of revolutionaries in U.S. Latino history. Then on to other battles that the clip doesn't touch on, organizing massive voter registration campaigns in Philadelphia in 1978, that led to the electoral defeat of the city’s fascist mayor, Frank Rizzo, and the birth of Black — of modern Black political power in that city, to my participation in building the National Congress for Puerto Rican Rights and the National Association of Hispanic Journalists in the 1980s, through my involvement as strike committee chairman of the last two successful newspaper labor battles of the late 20th century — the five-week strike at the Philadelphia Daily News and Inquirer in 1985 and the titanic five-month strike by 2,500 New York Daily News workers in 1990 to ’91, to spearheading the creation of UNITY: Journalists of Color in the early 1990s.

Throughout all these struggles, I never stopped studying the lessons, good and bad, of past revolutions, from the Paris Commune to the Mexican and Russian revolutions, from China to Vietnam to Cuba, from South Africa and Namibia to Angola and Guinea-Bissau, from Chile, El Salvador and Nicaragua to Iran, Palestine and the Philippines.

So, in the late — in late 1995, when Julie Drizin, then the national news director of Pacifica Radio — and I believe Julie is in the audience — asked me to become part — the part-time co-host of a brand-new election year program that the network was starting with Amy Goodman as the anchor, I initially said no. “I’m a writer and a print reporter, not a radio person,” I told her. But Julie kept after me, and I finally agreed to give it a shot, along with two other rotating co-hosts, Larry Bensky and Salim Muwakkil. By the end of 1996, both Larry and Salim had moved on to other endeavors, leaving just me and Amy and one producer — I think it was Dan Coughlin at the time — to continue the show.

A few years later, in early 2001, some of you may remember, I quit the show publicly on the air, without even letting Amy know, and called for a staff and listener revolt against Pacifica’s management and the board of directors, who had been captured by a neoliberal corporate group that was targeting Amy for her independence and firing other producers at will. Thousands of listeners responded, and within a year, our Pacifica campaign had forced all the old management and structure out and created a new structure, a more democratic structure, for Pacifica.

We continued at DN! as an independent news production, and the range of events we’ve been able to cover over the decades, the many voices we’ve showcased, from the people’s movements, the range of writers, musicians and filmmakers we’ve interviewed, has been astonishing. Whether it was the Seattle protests against the WTO, the barbaric executions carried out in the U.S., the airing of those brilliant essays from prison of Mumia Abu-Jamal, our unique coverage of international climate summits, the coups in Haiti, the Israeli wars and genocide against the Palestinians, the pivotal role of whistleblowers and muckrakers like Edward Snowden, Julian Assange and Chelsea Manning, or our coverage of Standing Rock, Democracy Now!, under Amy’s intrepid leadership, has helped to redefine what independent, people-centered news means in the 21st century.

As a result — as a result, the show and its staff have grown in influence far beyond what any of us could have imagined. So many terrific young people have come through our doors and grown with us, many moving on to do their own amazing journalism, people like Jeremy Scahill, Sharif Abdel Kouddous, David Love, María Carrión, Aaron Maté, Nicole Salazar, Amy Littlefield, Laura Gottesdiener, Lenina Nadal, Renée Feltz, John Hamilton, Juan Carlos Dávila and many others. It has truly been a privilege and an honor to work with all these colleagues and to be welcomed into the homes of you, our audience, for so many years.

My modest contribution as a part-time host and secretary treasurer of the board of Pacifica all these years was to shed light not so much on the who, what, where and when of the news, but on the why and the how, the historical context and broader framework of social forces underlying those events.

All of our achievements, however, have always been bittersweet for me, for even as the show has thrived, and even as platforms for news and information, including progressive and independent ones, have proliferated, the American public’s consciousness has plummeted when it comes to the malevolent, destructive and barbaric role of U.S. imperialism, whether in its neoliberal or its fascist management form. In our contemporary world, morality, decency, the quest for peaceful resolution of conflict, empathy for the weak and the powerful are branded as weaknesses, while bombast, cruelty, patriarchy, the frenzy for obscene profits, hate, torture, outright fraud and lies are celebrated as signs of strength and power. Sadly, reporting the truth is important, but it is not sufficient to make a better world possible, especially when capitalism, with artificial intelligence and internet bots, has mastered, to previously unimagined levels, the mass production of disinformation and alternative realities. In the end, only organizing resistance of working-class and oppressed peoples of the world, strengthened by — yes, by revolutionary analysis, can bring about a better world.

In fact — in fact, I’ve at times remarked that our name itself, Democracy Now!, was perhaps ill-chosen. Everyone, after all, claims to be for democracy. But what kind of a democracy do we seek? The kind fostered by the industrial West, where the people cast ballots periodically between two or three sets of candidates, hand-picked and financed by competing segments of the same billionaire class, while the vast majority of people confront the seemingly perpetual chaos of modern life, ruined living standards, the collapse of our mental and physical health, the poisoning of our planet and endless wars? Or the kind where dissident intellectuals, journalists, civil society groups, largely of middle-class status and financed by Western foundations or the CIA or the NED or other powerful governments, market and proclaim the sanctity of individual freedom above all else, they stir up grassroots color revolutions, cheer on humanitarian interventions such as Serbia, Libya, Syria and Venezuela, but never, ever challenge the role of capitalism and imperialism? Or is it the kind of people’s democracies, with all their faults and imperfections, mostly in the Global South, which continue to dare to create some sort of rational, noncapitalist or socialist alternative, despite crippling sanctions, financial strangulation, military coups, and despite disdain from Western liberals or even Western Marxists for failings or their authoritarian nature?

And which is more pressing today for the majority of the world’s population? The defense of individual liberties and the formal right to vote or the basic needs of survival, decent housing, adequate healthcare, clean water, quality education? And when they conflict, on which side do Western revolutionaries and progressives stand?

These are questions not easily answered, but we must continue to ask them. Even among ourselves in Democracy Now!, we have not always agreed on the best way to cover these complex issues, but we keep trying. And I’m sure that long after I’m gone, our staff and other radical journalists will keep it up, for as the Black Panther Party often reminded us, and as the Palestinian and Iranian people and the Iraqi people and the Afghan people have proved, the spirit of the people is greater than the man’s technology. And as we always said in the Young Lords, ”¡Pa’lante, siempre pa’lante! ¡Hasta la victoria!” Thank you.

AMY GOODMAN: Thank you, Juan. Juan, I wish we could fulfill your every wish, but there’s one that we cannot honor, Juan. There’s one wish we cannot honor, and that is Juan leaving sometime this year. But other than that, we’re going to work together. I want to introduce no one more appropriate to perform after Juan González than Hurray for the Riff Raff with the Bronx-born Alynda Segarra. The band’s new album has just come out. It’s called Live Forever. This song, “Pa’lante,” was featured in the short New York Times documentary Takeover about the Young Lords, who took over Lincoln Hospital in 1970. “Pa’lante” means “onwards,” or, as Juan says, “Right on.”

HURRAY FOR THE RIFF RAFF: [performing “Pa’lante”]
Well, I just wanna go to work
And get back home, be something
I just wanna fall in line
And do my time, and be something
I just wanna prove my worth
On the planet Earth, and be something
I just wanna fall in love
And not ruin it, and feel something

Well, lately, don’t understand what I am
Treated as a fool
Not quite a woman or a man
Well, I don’t know
I guess I don’t understand the plan

Colonized, and hypnotized, be something
Sterilized, dehumanized, I’ll be something
They tell you take your pay
But stay out the way, go be something
They tell you do your best
Forget the rest, be something

Well, lately, it’s been mighty hard to see
Just searching for my lost humanity
I look for you, my friends
But do you look for me?

Lately I’m not too afraid to die
I wanna leave it all behind
I think about it sometimes
And lately all my time’s been movin’ slow
I don’t know where I’m gonna go
Just give me time, and I’ll know

Oh, any day now
Oh, any day now
I will come along
Oh, any day now
Oh, any day now
I will come along
Oh, I will come along

¡Pa’lante!, my friends!

From El Barrio to Arecibo, ¡Pa’lante!
And from Marble Hill to the ghost of Emmett Till, ¡Pa’lante!
And to Juan, Miguel, Milagros, Manuel, ¡Pa’lante!
And to all who have to hide, we say, ¡Pa’lante!
And to all who lost your pride, ¡Pa’lante!
And to all trying to survive, ¡Pa’lante!
¡Pa’lante!
To the earth under our feet, ¡Pa’lante!
To resistance in the street, ¡Pa’lante!
To the children of the world, ¡Pa’lante!
To the poets of Palestine, ¡Pa’lante!
To the dream that can never die, ¡Pa’lante!
To all who came before, we say, ¡Pa’lante!
To all who came before, we say, ¡Pa’lante!

AMY GOODMAN: We begin today’s show in Gaza, where we’re joined by Refaat Alareer. He’s a Palestinian academic and activist, the editor of the book Gaza Writes Back, co-editor of Gaza Unsilenced.

REFAAT ALAREER: What is happening in Gaza is complete and utter extermination of the non-Jewish population in occupied Palestine. As you mentioned, Israel ordered a medieval hermetic siege from air and sea. Israel has also just bombed the only way out through Egypt, the Rafah crossing. The only way out is for — what’s happening, what we are foreseeing is slow starvation, slow genocide. Maybe Israel is going to push us all into the sea.

AMY GOODMAN: On Friday night, thousands of members of Jewish Voice for Peace-New York City and their allies shut down the main terminal of Grand Central Station during rush hour. It’s the largest sit-in protest the city has seen in over two decades.

PROTESTERS: Ceasefire now! Ceasefire now! Ceasefire now! Ceasefire now!

ROSALIND PETCHESKY: My name is Rosalind Petchesky. I’m here with maybe a thousand others, a lot of us Jews. But we are here to protest the genocide that is happening in our name.

PROTESTERS: Stop the genocide! Free, free Palestine! Stop the genocide! Free, free Palestine!

ASSEMBLYMEMBER ZOHRAN MAMDANI: My name is Zohran Mamdani. I’m an assemblymember for parts of Astoria and Long Island City. And I’m here today to join thousands of Jewish New Yorkers, rabbis and allies to say that the time is now for an immediate ceasefire.

AMY GOODMAN: What does it mean to you that on this Shabbat, the Jewish Sabbath, thousands of Jews are here at Grand Central saying “Ceasefire now”?

ASSEMBLYMEMBER ZOHRAN MAMDANI: It shows that what we have been told about the consent for this genocide is not true. So many of the Jewish New Yorkers here are struggling through heartbreak and mourning of October 7th, and they have made it very clear that do not use their heartbreak, their tragedy as the justification for the genocide of Palestinians.

AMY GOODMAN: Earlier this week, an Israeli airstrike in Gaza City killed the acclaimed Palestinian academic and activist Refaat Alareer, along with his brother, his sister and four of his nieces.

For more, we’re joined in Cairo, Egypt, by Mosab Abu Toha, Palestinian poet and author, who was detained by Israeli authorities as he and his family fled Gaza.

MOSAB ABU TOHA: Refaat is someone who didn’t want to die. And in his poem “If I Must Die,” he didn’t say, “If I die.” “If I must die,” if my death was a necessity, “Let it be a hope. Let it be a tale. Let it bring hope.” And it’s really very, very, very sympathetic and very, very beautiful to see that many people around the world are reading his poem and flying his kite.

BRIAN COX: If I must die,
you must live
to tell my story
to sell my things
to buy a piece of cloth
and some strings,
(make it white with a long tail)
so that a child, somewhere in Gaza
while looking heaven in the eye
awaiting his dad who left in a blaze—
and bid no one farewell
not even to his flesh
not even to himself—
sees the kite, my kite you made, flying up
above
and thinks for a moment an angel is there
bringing back love
If I must die
let it bring hope.

MOSAB ABU TOHA: And I think, I believe, that his only hope right now is that these kites will fly over Gaza to protect the children and mothers and fathers and everyone in Gaza from the Israeli airstrikes.

AMY GOODMAN: That was Mosab Abu Toha speaking on Democracy Now!, January 22nd, 2024. Over a year later, in May of 2025, Mosab won a Pulitzer Prize for Commentary for his writings in The New Yorker magazine. He’s the founder of the Edward Said Library — Edward Said, who we all so dearly miss. Edward Said Library is Gaza’s first English-language library. His most recent book, Mosab’s, is Forest of Noise, a collection of poems about life in Gaza. His debut book of poetry, Things You May Find Hidden in My Ear, won an American Book Award. Mosab fled Gaza with his family in December of 2023 after he was detained by Israeli authorities for two days. He joins us tonight.

MOSAB ABU TOHA: Thank you so much. Thank you so much, Democracy Now! Thank you, Amy, Nermeen and Juan.

I mean, these are very heartbreaking moments. There is no language that can describe my feelings listening to my dear friend Refaat. He is somewhere else better than this ugly world that we are trying, all of us, to survive.

It was October 12th, 2023, when I had my interview with Amy. I was still in our house in Gaza. This house has been a heap of rubble since October 30th, 2023. Just two days after the interview I did with Amy on October 12th, Israel killed 30 members of my extended family, including my great-uncle, Khader Abu Toha, his wife, his children, the wives of his children, the grandchildren. The youngest was 4 years old. That same Khader was the only one in my family who was interested in doing the family tree. And I ended up doing his family tree after he was killed. And that’s something that I kept doing, unfortunately, to document the genocide that Israel perpetrated not only against Palestinians, but the Palestinian families. Israel has erased hundreds of families in Gaza, including some of my relatives, some of whom remain under the rubble even now.

“Under the Rubble.”

She slept on her bed,
never woke up again.
Her bed has become her grave,
a tomb beneath the ceiling of her room,
the ceiling a cenotaph.
No name, no year of birth,
no year of death, no epitaph.
Only blood and a smashed
picture frame in ruin
next to her.

In Jabalia camp, a mother collects her daughter’s
flesh in a piggy bank,
hoping to buy her a plot
on a river in a faraway land.

A group of mute people
were talking sign.
When a bomb fell,
they fell silent.

It rained again last night.
The new plant looked for
an umbrella in the garage.
The bombing got intense
and our house looked for
a shelter in the neighborhood.

I leave the door to my room open, so the words in my books,
the titles, and names of authors and publishers,
could flee when they hear the bombs.

I became homeless once but
the rubble of my city
covered the streets.

They could not find a stretcher
to carry your body. They put
you on a wooden door they found
under the rubble:

Your neighbors: a moving wall.

The scars on our children’s faces
will look for you.
Our children’s amputated legs
will run after you.

He left the house to buy some bread for his kids.
News of his death made it home,
but not the bread.
No bread.
Death sits to eat whoever remains of the kids.
No need for a table, no need for bread.

A father wakes up at night, sees
the random colors on the walls
drawn by his four-year-old daughter.
The colors are about four feet high.
Next year, they would be five.
But the painter has died
in an air strike.

There are no colors anymore.
There are no walls.

I changed the order of my books on the shelves.
Two days later, the war broke out.
Beware of changing the order of your books!

What are you thinking?
What thinking?
What you?
You?
Is there still you?

You there?

Where should people go? Should they
build a big ladder and go up?

But heaven has been blocked by the drones
and F-16s and the smoke of death.

My son asks me whether,
when we return to Gaza,
I could get him a puppy.
I say, “I promise, if we can find any.”

I ask my son if he wishes to become
a pilot when he grows up.
He says he won’t wish
to drop bombs on people and houses.

When we die, our souls leave our bodies,
take with them everything they loved
in our bedrooms: the perfume bottles,
the makeup, the necklaces, and the pens.
In Gaza, our bodies and rooms get crushed.
Nothing remains for the soul.
Even our souls,
they remain stuck under the rubble for weeks. 
Now for years.

For Gaza, for Refaat Alareer, for all our loved ones, those who were killed, those who are surviving in the streets, in tents, for my three sisters who are in Gaza right now, for my beloved ones who remain under the rubble while we are speaking for a free Palestine.

[singing “Yamma Mweil El-Hawa”]

Thank you.

NERMEEN SHAIKH: Very soon after I joined Democracy Now!, a few months, if that, Amy asked, “Would you be interested in co-hosting the show?”

AMY GOODMAN: From New York, this is Democracy Now!

NERMEEN SHAIKH: And I thought, “Wow. I mean, yes, what an honor. And thank you so much.” Then she was like, “OK, how about tomorrow?” And I was like, “Uh!”

AMY GOODMAN: I’m Amy Goodman, joined by Democracy Now! producer Nermeen Shaikh, who will be co-hosting with me today. Welcome, Nermeen.

NERMEEN SHAIKH: Thank you, Amy. In Libya, rebel forces say Muammar Gaddafi …

I’ve never been in front of a camera. I’ve never read a prompter. Forget doing these things live. I felt completely terrified. But in the breaks, she said, “You’re doing a great job. And just relax. It’s just like we’re having a conversation.”

He was so good in the pre-interview, I thought this guy’s going to be great on the show.

The strength of Democracy Now!, and also its singularity, is speaking with people who have no platform. If you think of media as a frame, you are framing a story. The problem with a lot of the media is that so much is excluded from the frame. There’s a kind of erasure. It’s as though those people, they simply — people don’t exist. Right? So, Democracy Now!, what we do is expand the frame so those things that are on its margins are allowed in.

NERMEEN SHAIKH: Good evening, all. Thank you so much for coming and joining us to celebrate this momentous milestone, Democracy Now!'s 30th anniversary. And I am so happy to say that half of those years, for 15 of these years, I've had the pleasure and honor to co-host the show with Amy Goodman.

So, I’ll just say a few words now about what we aspire to do in our work. When thinking of our commitments, I am recalled often to the writing of an Italian philosopher and political theorist, Giorgio Agamben, whom I’ve read for many years. In a beautiful text titled Nudities, he interprets a poem by the Soviet Russian poet Osip Mandelstam, who died in 1938 during Stalin’s purges. The poem is called “The Century.” In Russian, the word also means “age” or “epoque.” In his interpretation of the poem, Agamben writes of what it means to see one’s own age: quote, “The contemporary is he who firmly holds his gaze on his own time so as to perceive not its light, but rather its darkness.”

What distinguishes Democracy Now! is its attempt to decipher this darkness, to make it plain for all to see, even or especially those for whom only the light is visible. We do this in part by providing a platform for voices that are otherwise silenced or disregarded in the media, considered peripheral to the world as it is, the world as it must continue to be, according to those wielding the power to determine its shape. But these voices very much exist. These voices cry out. And Democracy Now! is dedicated to allowing those cries to be heard, no matter how dark, no matter how unbearable, recognizing each voice for its intrinsic worth, its singularity, not just one more voice lost or effaced among the many.

We are attentive here to the lessons of the 1960s French social theorist Guy Debord, whose words were virtually prophetic. His was one of the most acute observations of the violence produced by the present domination of mass media. Debord condemned what he termed “the society of the spectacle,” arguing that it works principally as a means of justifying the conditions of the dominant order. Our task at Democracy Now!, our task as participants in the making and consuming of images and information, our task is to work against such justification, and, even more, to use the spectacle to serve the casualties of this order and not its beneficiaries.

Parenthetically and related to the spectacle, this is a very trivial point, but I think nevertheless symptomatic, many over the years have commented on the fact that I rarely, if ever, smile on the show, which, of course, is true. But this has always struck me as a rather odd remark, not because I don’t like smiling, or indeed even love laughing. But what would it mean to appear even slightly in good humor, if not positively complacent, when discussing war, starvation, poverty or this administration’s ceaseless and blatant criminality? What kind of gesture is a smile? And what kind of smile could accompany this speech without appearing monstrous?

As an aside, someone once told me we should rename Democracy Now! “Depress Me Now.” In that instance, it was impossible not to laugh.

We’re living, irrefutably — if perhaps, in some instances, not irreversibly — in a time of multiplying and accelerating crises. To name only the most obvious and the most proximate, the slow and now rapid transformation of this country into a more brutal, more unforgiving and more exclusionary polity and society, the scale of which, as we witness it, is literally unfathomable. The cruelty of the current administration is everywhere in evidence. It would take the remainder of this evening, and indeed well beyond it, to rehearse the litany of horrors to which we’re daily confronted.

What, then, is our orientation, our vision, as this administration continues unleashing its violence, both within and without the borders of this country? What possibilities exist as we report on what appears an imminent threat of world war, and crucially, of those suffering in its midst — of course, in Iran, but also elsewhere — or when we speak of the calamitous and ongoing lethal effects on the world’s very poorest of the staggering cuts in U.S. aid, or as we tell the stories of those brutalized while protesting ICE or the stories of the tens of millions enduring merciless wars, from Palestine to Ukraine to the DRC and Sudan, the latter African countries, to our collective shame, almost totally absent from the public sphere?

The only gesture, of course, the only gesture possible, of course, is resistance, a resistance whose source and agency must find expression in the media. This is where the question of hope, too, arises. As an Iranian writer recently wrote, citing Walter Benjamin, quote, “It is only for the sake of those without hope that hope is given to us.” So, indeed, what kind of hope is possible? A hope not directed at the self, not necessitated by the desire to free oneself of fear or apprehension, not given over to sentimentality or an empty optimism.

Here I’ll turn to an interview with the most recent recipient of the Nobel Prize for Literature, László Krasznahorkai, who said, quote, “We can only delude ourselves with the future; hope always belongs to the future. And the future never arrives. It is always just about to come,” end-quote.

It is for this indeterminate future, where hope belongs, that one must resist. And it is our ethical political responsibility in the media to ensure that such acts of resistance are not erased, but rather made universally and intimately known through our telling, through amplifying the voices of those who act in the service of this indeterminate future to come where hope lies. This is at Democracy Now!, under Amy’s guidance and with her remarkable imagination — this at Democracy Now! remains our enduring commitment.

And finally — and finally, to end where I began, but this time in the words of the German Jewish political philosopher Hannah Arendt, who wrote, quote, “Even in the darkest of times we have the right to expect some illumination, and that such illumination may well come … from the uncertain, flickering, and often weak light that some men and women, in their lives and their works, will kindle under almost all circumstances,” end-quote.

It is to this injunction, above all, that Democracy Now! remains true. And if there is hope, it is that in this moment and in an indeterminate future, there will be more such means and more people through which to tell their stories and the stories of those for whom they provided even the weakest light. Thank you.

AMY GOODMAN: I’m lucky enough working with Nermeen for 15 years to get to see her smile all the time — OK, outside of that daily hour.

Oh, it is my honor to bring up on the stage Michael Stipe, the singer-songwriter, artist and activist. But before I do, I have a little admission. It was 1992, and I was in Boston along with my colleague, journalist Allan Nairn. This is a story that is featured in this new documentary that we’re going to be playing excerpts of, Steal This Story, Please!, that you’ll get to see in the next month. But it’s one of the stories we’ve covered for decades, since Indonesia invaded East Timor in 1975, killed off a third of the population, until the people of East Timor were able to vote for their freedom, and, ultimately, East Timor became one of the newest nations in the world. And in 1991, my colleague Allan Nairn and I survived a massacre that more than 270 Timorese did not. They were gunned down in one day at a Catholic ceremony. When we came back to the United States, we continually covered this, and I’d cover it as Democracy Now! got established.

But the Reebok Human Rights Awards the following year were honoring four activists, and one of them was a young Timorese man named Fernando de Araújo, who, interestingly, was being held in an Indonesian jail. Reebok made a killing off of its sneaker company in Indonesia, but it was honoring this young man who was in Indonesian jail. But he couldn’t come to the awards ceremony in Boston, and so they invited Allan Nairn and I to come to describe the conditions that he faced. It was an amazing ceremony.

And there was this luncheon at the Four Seasons Hotel. And I went in, and, oh my god, there was Richie Havens. I thought, “I’m going to have lunch with him,” and so I raced over. But just as I was sitting down, this guy sat down between us. So, I said to him, “Oh, what’s your name?” And he said, “Oh, my name is Michael Stipe.” And I said, “Oh, are you Richie’s assistant?” And he said, “No, but I love his music.” And I said, “What do you do?” And he said, “Oh, I have a band myself.” And I said, “Oh, that’s so cute. What’s it called?” And he said, “Oh, we call it R.E.M.” And I said, “Oh, you don’t have to spell it. Rem?” And he said, “Actually, we prefer the initials, R.E.M.” So, the ceremony went on, and all sorts of people were there, like Yo-Yo Ma and Mickey Hart of the Grateful Dead.

And when we went home, I got a big box in the mail from Athens, Georgia, and it was from this guy named Michael. Well, when I called my brother Dan, who’s here today, from the ceremony, I said, “You want to come?” He said, “I might, you know, make it.” And he said, “Who’s there?” I said, “I don’t know. There’s all sorts of people. I sat next to this guy named Michael Steep or something.” He said, “Michael Stipe. I’ll be there in two minutes.”

So, I got this big box in the mail from Michael, and it had a whole bunch of his CDs. And he wrote something like, “Dear Amy, our band actually decided to record some of our songs, and I thought you might enjoy them.” OK, so — OK, so, this was 1992. It was, oh, the blockbuster album, Out of Time. It sold something like 18 million copies already worldwide, hit the top charts in the U.S. and the U.K. Yep, it was “Losing My Religion” and all of that. OK, so, I’ve just said too much.

So, Michael is going to join us, humble man that he is, and Aaron Dessner, Grammy Award-winning musician and producer, founding member of The National and a close collaborator with Taylor Swift. He co-produced three of her albums, Folklore, Evermore and The Tortured Poets Department. They’re singing “No Time for Love Like Now.” Oh, and, Michael, thanks for the hat with the CDs.

MICHAEL STIPE: Thank you, Amy. This evening feels like a clarion call, a voice, a voice of courage, of optimism and resilience and community in the face, in the midst of system collapse. We are honored to be here and to be a part of this community. Thank you.

MICHAEL STIPE and AARON DESSNER: [performing “No Time for Love Like Now”]

No time for breezy
No time for arguments
There’s no time for love like now

There’s no time in the bardo
No time in the in-between
No time for love like now

Where did this all begin to change?
The locked-down memories can’t sustain
This glistening, hanging free fall

I turned away from the glorious light
I turned my head and cried
Whatever waiting means in this new place
I am waiting for you

There’s no time for dancing
No time for undecideds
No time for love like now

There’s no time for honey
No time for psalms and thresholds
Whisper a sweet prayer sigh

Where did this all begin to change?
The locked-down memories can’t sustain
This glistening, hanging free fall

I turned away from the glorious light
I turned my head and cried
Whatever waiting means in this new place
I am waiting for you

Your voice is echoing love, love, love, love, love
I hear it far, far away
And I am waiting for you
Yes, I am waiting for you

Whatever waiting means in this new place
I am waiting for you
Yes, I am waiting for you
I am waiting for you

Thank you.

SHARIF ABDEL KOUDDOUS: Nicole and I were at the TV station where Democracy Now! was based during the convention, and we looked out the window and saw the massive phalanx of police in riot gear walking down the streets.

NICOLE SALAZAR: Holy shit.

SHARIF ABDEL KOUDDOUS: What’s wrong?

NICOLE SALAZAR: Sharif, get the passes.

SHARIF ABDEL KOUDDOUS: What?

NICOLE SALAZAR: Get my press pass. Something’s happening.

PROTESTERS: Whose streets? Our streets! Whose streets? Our streets! Whose streets? Our streets! Whose streets? Our streets! Whose streets? Our streets! Whose streets? Our streets! Whose streets? Our streets!

POLICE OFFICER 1: Back up and move that way now!

JOURNALIST 1: We’re journalists!

POLICE OFFICER 1: I don’t care! Back up and move that way!

POLICE OFFICER 2: Move! Move! Move!

JOURNALIST 2: We’re leaving.

JOURNALIST 3: We’re fucking AP, the Associated Press!

JOURNALIST 2: Relax!

NICOLE SALAZAR: Watch out! Watch out! Press!

POLICE OFFICER 3: Get out of here!

NICOLE SALAZAR: No! No! Where are we supposed to go? Where are we supposed to go?

POLICE OFFICER 3: Get out of here!

NICOLE SALAZAR: Dude, I can’t see!

POLICE OFFICER 3: Get on the ground!

NICOLE SALAZAR: Ow! Press! Press! Press!

POLICE OFFICER 3: Get down! Get down on your face! On your face!

NICOLE SALAZAR: I’m on my face!

POLICE OFFICER 3: Get down on your face!

NICOLE SALAZAR: Ow! Press! Press! Press!

SHARIF ABDEL KOUDDOUS: The police very violently arrested Nicole, and then they beat me up and arrested me. And then, God bless her, Amy came.

DENIS MOYNIHAN: Release the accredited journalists!

AMY GOODMAN: Where’s the reporters?

POLICE OFFICER 4: Sidewalk.

DENIS MOYNIHAN: Sharif is right there.

POLICE OFFICER 4: Ma’am, sidewalk.

DENIS MOYNIHAN: Release the accredited journalists now!

AMY GOODMAN: Sir, just one second. I was just running from the convention floor.

DENIS MOYNIHAN: You are violating my constitutional rights. You are violating their constitutional rights.

POLICE OFFICER 4: Sidewalk. Sidewalk now.

AMY GOODMAN: Sir, I want to talk to your superior —

POLICE OFFICER 4: Arrest her?

AMY GOODMAN: Do not arrest me!

DENIS MOYNIHAN: You are violating constitutional rights, sir.

POLICE OFFICER 4: Come on.

AMY GOODMAN: Do not arrest me!

DENIS MOYNIHAN: You are violating constitutional rights.

POLICE OFFICER 4: Hold it right there. You’re under arrest. Stay right there. Back up. Back up.

DENIS MOYNIHAN: Release that accredited journalist!

ANJALI KAMAT: Hey, Max. They just arrested Amy Goodman, Nicole Salazar and Sharif Abdel Kouddous.

AMY GOODMAN: And I also want to thank Nicole Salazar and Sharif Abdel Kouddous, who are in the audience today, for doing such excellent coverage, and also one of the people who is shouting there, my colleague Denis Moynihan, with us from almost the beginning of Democracy Now!, shouting, “You’re arresting journalists! Stop arresting those journalists!”

Oh, by the way, coming up, we have — oh, Patti Smith is going to be joining us, with — I can’t wait. And we also are going to have a special guest, but we’ll talk about that in a little while.

Right now, to say the least, we have a very, very special guest. We thought it would be appropriate to play some arrest footage before we introduced her. But we are talking about one Angela Davis.

And for those who were not born yet when — well, I’ll just say who aren’t born yet, I wanted to introduce Angela, the renowned activist and author, scholar, professor emerita at the University of California, Santa Cruz. She is the author of many books, including Freedom Is a Constant Struggle: Ferguson, Palestine, and the Foundations of a Movement. Her other books include Are Prisons Obsolete? and Women, Race and Class. Her 1974 autobiography was edited by the late great Toni Morrison. Angela Davis grew up in Birmingham, Alabama, in a neighborhood known as Dynamite Hill, because the Ku Klux Klan repeatedly bombed the area. Angela, it is such an honor to be with you tonight.

ANGELA DAVIS: Well, congratulations, Amy, Nermeen and Juan, on the occasion of the 30th. Can you believe it? Thirtieth anniversary of Democracy Now! You know, I was thinking that it was really only maybe about 10 years ago when we met for the first time, but it’s been 30 years.

AMY GOODMAN: Well, why don’t we start there? Start where you grew up. Start in Birmingham, Alabama, and what it meant to grow up in Dynamite Hill. And then take us on a short trajectory of your remarkable life.

ANGELA DAVIS: Really? Well, you know, that was over 80 years ago. And I don’t know whether I can compress these last 80 years into three minutes or so.

AMY GOODMAN: Who said anything about compressing?

ANGELA DAVIS: Well, I see the timekeeper right in front of us. But it’s really wonderful to be here. And let me also thank, you know, all of you for coming out to celebrate 30 years of Democracy Now! Without Democracy Now!, I do not know where we would be today. You know, I can remember when we felt unseen and unacknowledged, when we had no legitimate place or space in the established media. And so, before I say anything else, I just really want to say thank you on behalf of all of the progressive and radical movements in this country and the world.

OK, Amy, I was born in 1944 in Birmingham, Alabama, at a time when the government of the city and of the state were in — literally in the hands of the Ku Klux Klan. And I often point out that some of my earliest memories are of hearing the sound of dynamite, because when my family moved into that area, Black people were allowed to live on one side of the street, Center Street, which was the dividing one, but not on the other side. And one of the stories I never tire of telling is that, as kids, we knew that a Ku Klux Klan man, Klansman, lived right across the street from us, and we knew that we were not allowed to cross that street. Black people weren’t allowed to cross that street unless they worked for white people in the neighborhood. And so, you know, sometimes, instead of playing hide-and-go-seek or, you know, all of the other children’s games that we used to play, we used to dare each other to run across the street. And if you were really courageous, you would not only run across the street, you would run up the steps of the Klansman’s house and ring the doorbell and try to make it back across the street before they came to answer.

So, I mean, I say that because I know the theme of this evening is resistance. And as I look at — as I see Palestinian children throwing rocks at the Israeli military, I realize that, you know, in some communities, resistance is the only possibility of living a life of significance. And so, children learn resistance even before they fully understand what that means. They even learn to enjoy resistance and to have fun engaging in those games. So, yeah, that, in short, was my childhood.

NERMEEN SHAIKH: So, Professor Davis, you’re obviously a leading icon and symbol of resistance and protest, not only here in the U.S., but also in many parts of the world. So, to elaborate on this question of resistance — indeed, that is the theme for the evening — you said in an interview recently that you used to have a, quote, “intransigent notion” of what constitutes resistance, but that you came to see that we are here today “precisely because” — this is a quote from you — “because of large acts of resistance and small acts of resistance.” And you said, I believe we need organized resistance and the forms of resistance that become practices in our daily lives.” So, if you could elaborate on that and where you see instances of that today?

ANGELA DAVIS: Thank you, Nermeen. I can’t actually — I mean, I’m sure I said that.

NERMEEN SHAIKH: That’s a problem with giving too many interviews.

AMY GOODMAN: We’ve never misquoted anyone, Angela.

ANGELA DAVIS: I mean, I’m sure I said that, and I’m sure I was thinking about the fact that, you know, in my own life — and I’m sure my life reflects that of many others who’ve grown up as activists in progressive and radical movements in this country — but I think I was referring to the fact that I only really took seriously, at a certain point early on, the sort of major forms of resistance, what we — you know, what John Berger called the “rehearsals for revolution,” the massive protests, the huge marches, where we are able not only to make our voices heard, but where we also experience the camaraderie with others, where we we become absolutely persuaded that we will usher in possibilities of a better world. And we need those moments. But I think we also need the small acts, the small acts of resistance.

And, you know, one of the things I’ve been doing in the last couple of years — I can’t believe it’s been a couple of years — is not drinking out of plastic bottles. And, you know, it’s not that one person not drinking out of plastic is going to accomplish anything at all, but it’s about becoming aware of the fact that capitalism depends on our habits. Capitalism depends on us not taking seriously the habits that we acquire that help to — that help to, in the instance of drinking out of single-use plastic, destroy the Earth. And many of us know that that is happening. We know that there is so much plastic in the ocean and that there are microplastics in animals. There are microplastics in our own bodies. Yet we still — you know, we still drink out of plastic. And I think I was on vacation in Martha’s Vineyard a couple years ago, and I saw some hermit crabs walking around on the beach with a piece of a — with pieces of plastic bottles. You know, the hermit crabs, they use shells from other shellfish. And they were using the plastic as their shells, as their houses. And so, that’s like a small act, but it’s so hard, because, you know, if I’m speaking someplace, I say, “Please don’t give me a plastic — you know, water in a plastic bottle.” So, sometimes they say, “OK, well, we’ll just pour it into a cup.” And so, I think that there are those small things that are so important, and if we can — if we can change those habits, maybe we can create a better world. But we still need the — we still need the sort of grand forms of resistance, as well. It’s not an either/or.

JUAN GONZÁLEZ: Angela, I’d like to ask you about those grand forms of resistance. We were politically formed during the same period of time, and you first came to national fame, or national or international notoriety, as a member of the Black Panther Party. And I’m wondering if you could share, especially for the young people here, what drew you to revolutionary struggle, to the Panther Party. And what kinds of lessons, good and bad, have you drawn from that experience that might help other folks who are organizing resistance and seeking to build a better world today?

ANGELA DAVIS: Well, I think I’ve been — it’s a long story, but I guess I’ll say that, you know, when I was growing up in Birmingham — Amy asked me that first question. What I didn’t say was that my mother was a member of a radical organization at that time, which was called the Southern Negro Youth Congress, and it was an organization that was founded by Black members of the Communist Party. And as a matter of fact, my mother met my father recruiting guys — because this was the nature of the military at that time — to go fight fascism in Europe, fight fascism abroad and fight racism at home. So, if any of you know the Double V campaign — any of you know the Double V campaign? OK, I guess, Juan, you know, our generation is not as well represented.

So, anyway, yeah, I eventually did join the Communist Party myself, but I also joined the Black Panther Party, and I also joined SNCC, and I also joined — I mean, I could give you the names of many organizations I’ve joined. I think I’ve always been connected with some kind of collective. And I suppose I would say that is because it became clear that, despite the individualism that is promoted, and especially in relation to and by capitalism, that nothing that we do as individuals is ever going to really make a major difference. We always have to be connected with community.

And so, when the Black Panther Party was organizing in Los Angeles for the very first time, I was, as a matter of fact, teaching at UCLA, and I asked, “Well, how can I be of assistance? What can I do?” So I began to work with the political education program that John Huggins, Ericka Huggins’ husband at the time, was working on. So, John and I worked on political education for the Black Panther Party, until he was killed at UCLA. And, you know, it’s a long and very complicated story.

But the fact is that I think I’ve always felt more comfortable in environments where I could resist, where I could say no, and not be by myself saying no, being with others who recognize that we need — we need a different kind of world, a world without racism, a world without heteropatriarchy, a world without economic exploitation, a world without colonialism, a world without genocide. And the only way to do that is together.

NERMEEN SHAIKH: So, Professor Davis, we’re speaking today in this historic Riverside Church, the site of Martin Luther King’s anti-Vietnam War speech. Could you give us a sense, I mean, your reflections, on what that moment was, the kinds of, precisely, resistance movements that you were part of then, and where we stand now, in particular, as we’re confronting another horrifying war?

ANGELA DAVIS: Yeah, I think it’s really important to feel the history in this church and to remember that when Dr. King gave that amazing speech, when Dr. King — thank you. I know we have one minute left. When Dr. King gave that incredible, incredible speech, I would say most people wondered why he was talking about Vietnam. I mean, I had actually had the opportunity during that very same period to hear him in Birmingham, Alabama, and he spoke in Birmingham about Vietnam. And I was very disturbed that many of my neighbors and people that I knew in Birmingham were a little confused about, you know, why — why was he talking about Vietnam? What did that have to do with ending racism? And so, Dr. King always talked about the indivisibility of justice. And I think it’s a lesson that we need to share over and over and over again.

All of our progressive, radical struggles are interconnected, as a matter of fact, absolutely. And what is so — what is so exciting about this moment is that we’ve struggled so long for Palestine solidarity to be a part of the largest social justice agenda in this country, and for so long it appeared as if Zionism was so powerful that we would never achieve that goal. And so, people who worked around issues of Palestine solidarity had to do it in a kind of marginalized fashion, not in connection with what we consider to be the main issues of social justice. But I can say now that I am really thankful that I’ve managed to live as long as I have, because I also see myself as a witness for all of those who struggle for Palestine, and Palestine in connection with feminism, Palestine in connection with the struggle against racism, Palestine in relation to our antiwar movements, that all of those struggles — and I’m thinking about June Jordan, for example — we should never forget that despite how depressed many of us feel about this moment, despite the fact that we have, you know, somebody in the White House who I — and I’m just going to stop there, I’m just going to say who, because I know we don’t have any time to talk about that, but we all know what we’re referring to — that, you know, all of the — all of the work over the last decades and decades, it has made a difference.

And I think it will allow us to recognize that even though we may not see the immediate consequences of the work that we’re doing now, if we continue to insist on what we know is right — and we know that genocide is wrong, and we know that the Palestinian people have been an inspiration to people all over the world, including here in this country. I’m so impressed. Every time I go into a circle that is primarily concerned with Black liberation, there is always the question of Palestine that comes up everywhere. And just recently, just recently, I traveled to Jackson, Mississippi, and I participated in an event that was sponsored by Mississippi for a Just World. And the theme of that event was “Solidarity with the Palestinian People,” in Jackson, Mississippi.

And so, I guess, you know, what I want to say is that we also have some reason to celebrate, you know, even as we mourn and even as we witness the worst forms of destruction, if we can see ourselves as larger than we actually are. And that is why we need — that is why we need a community. That is why we need to come together. That is why we need Democracy Now!, because Democracy Now! helps us to build that community.

AMY GOODMAN: Well. Angela Davis, we thank you so much for joining us for this 30th anniversary celebration.

ANGELA DAVIS: And congratulations to Democracy Now!

AMY GOODMAN: Well, you know, this event was supposed to take place on February 23rd. That would have been four days after our actual 30th anniversary. But then there was this bomb cyclone, right? Intensification of climate catastrophes that we have to be extremely serious about, which is why Democracy Now! every year covers the U.N. climate summit, not because something gets accomplished there, wherever it is, somewhere in the world, but because of the focus on climate, as Angela talked about the intersectionality of all politics.

But there was a silver lining to that cancellation, because someone that was with us on the 20th anniversary of Democracy Now! could not be with us on February 23rd, but now that it’s March 23rd, I have the enormous pleasure to introduce our next guest. A special guest is coming later. This is also an extremely special guest, who I can name at this moment: Patti Smith, singer-songwriter, poet, author, widely known as the “grandmother of punk.” She recently celebrated the 50th anniversary of her landmark debut album, Horses. Her latest book is the memoir Bread of Angels. And if we could be here for longer tonight, I was going to insist on doing an interview with her, but we’ll just have to have the interview be on Democracy Now! In November, Patti [sic] Smith won the National Book Award for Poetry for her collection, The Intentions of Thunder: New and Selected Poems. In 2010, she won the National Book Award for Nonfiction for her memoir Just Kids. This is Patti’s — as we talked about Angela turning 82, this is Patti’s 80th birthday year. And we want to welcome Patti Smith, her daughter Jesse Smith and Tony Shanahan to the stage.

PATTI SMITH: Hello, everybody. And happy 30th anniversary, Amy and Democracy Now! Let’s get my glasses.

AUDIENCE MEMBER: People have the power!

PATTI SMITH: Don’t forget it. I’m going to read a little passage from Bread of Angels while Tony is tuning up. Will I distract you?

TONY SHANAHAN: No.

PATTI SMITH: On October 26th, 2002, International ANSWER organized a protest of the planned attack on Iraq by the Bush administration in Washington, D.C. We performed “People Have the Power.” I looked out at an estimated 200,000 people gathered from all over the country, looking back from the Constitution Gardens near the Vietnam War Memorial. The Mall was carpeted with people calling for peace, chanting “no war.” We met again in January, performing again in the freezing cold and joining forces with Reverend Jesse Jackson. On February — blessings upon him.

On February 15th, the largest global antiwar protest in history was waged. In England alone, nearly a million protested. In Italy, a staggering 3 million. I marched in Paris in the Palestinian section, and they gave me a flag.

Sadly — sorry. Sadly, the collective voice of the people was not heeded. On March 16th, 2003, Rachel Corrie, a young nonviolence activist, was protesting the Israeli demolition of homes in the Gaza Strip. Bulldozers had already destroyed surrounding houses in Rafah, where she was based. They targeted the family home of Professor Nasrallah, where she was staying. Corrie, wearing an orange vest, bullhorn in hand, called for them to cease. She stood on a raised mound in the path of an Israeli bulldozer. But it kept going. Her fellow activists cried out, and the Nasrallah children watched in horror as she was crushed to death. The loss of Corrie, a bright, altruistic force, just two years older than my own son, haunted me.

At the same time, on the first day of spring, it was obvious that all the marches, pleas and protests of millions of people worldwide were not going to halt the Bush administration’s plan to attack Baghdad.

That was 23 years ago, when Tony Shanahan and I wrote this song. We wrote it to comfort the family of Rachel Corrie and to send a small — a small message of hope to the Palestinian people.

PATTI SMITH, TONY SHANAHAN and JESSE SMITH: [performing “Peaceable Kingdom”]
Yesterday I saw you standing there
With your hands against the pane
Looking out the window at the rain
And I wanted to tell you
All your tears were not in vain
But I guess we both knew
We’d never be the same
Never be the same

Why must we hide all these feelings inside?
Lions and lambs shall abide
Maybe one day we’ll be strong enough
To build it back again
Build the peaceable kingdom
Back again
Build it back again

Why must we hide all these feelings inside?
Lions and lambs shall abide
Maybe one day we’ll be strong enough
To build it back again
Build the peaceable kingdom
Back again

Maybe one day we’ll be strong enough
We can build it back again
Build the peaceable kingdom
Build it back again
Build the peaceable kingdom
Build it back again

I was dreaming in my dreaming
of an aspect bright and fair
and my sleeping it was broken
but my dream it lingered near
in the form of shining valleys
where the pure air rarefied
and my senses newly opened
'cause I awakened to the cry
that the people have the power
to redeem the work of fools
upon the meek the graces shower
it's decreed the people rule

Thank you. Jesse Paris Smith, Tony Shanahan. Thank you.

AMY GOODMAN: It’s Election Day 2000. This is the presidential race between George W. Bush and Al Gore. We got a call. I thought they said, “The White Horse calling.” That’s a historic bar in Greenwich Village, where Dylan Thomas drank himself to death. And they said, “The president would like to speak to you.” I said, “The president of what?” And they said, “The president of the United States.” “Oh, the White House, not the White Horse.” So we go running into master control, and it’s an alternative Latino music show. Gonzalo Aburto is at the controls. You hear salsa music loud, and underneath it all, President Clinton is saying, “Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?”

Mr. President, are you there?

PRESIDENT BILL CLINTON: I am. Can you hear me?

AMY GOODMAN: Yes, we can.

GONZALO ABURTO: Yeah.

AMY GOODMAN: You’re calling radio stations to tell people to get out and vote. What do you say to people who feel that the two parties are bought by corporations and that their vote doesn’t make a difference?

PRESIDENT BILL CLINTON: That there’s not a shred of evidence to support that. That’s what I would say. It’s true that both parties have wealthy supporters, but …

AMY GOODMAN: It was very interesting talking to the leader of the free world.

President Clinton, Amnesty International has described what the Israeli forces are now doing in the Occupied Territories as — 

PRESIDENT BILL CLINTON: Listen, I can’t do a whole press conference here. It’s Election Day, and I’ve got a lot of people and places to call.

AMY GOODMAN: Well, I guess these are the questions that are very important to our listeners.

PRESIDENT BILL CLINTON: Now, let me just tell you, on the Israeli-Palestinian thing, the only answer is an agreement that covers all the issues that the Palestinians feel aggrieved by, guarantees the Israelis security and acceptance within the region, and is a just and lasting peace.

AMY GOODMAN: He was animated. He was angry. He was forceful. And he was staying on the phone.

Many people say that you’ve been responsible for taking the Democratic Party to the right.

PRESIDENT BILL CLINTON: What is the measure of taking the Democratic Party to the right? That we cut the welfare rolls in half? That we have the lowest African American, the lowest Latino unemployment rate in the history —

AMY GOODMAN: What some people —

PRESIDENT BILL CLINTON: Let me just finish.

AMY GOODMAN: Let me just say —

PRESIDENT BILL CLINTON: Let me — now, wait a minute. You started this, and every question you’ve asked has been hostile and combative. So you listen to my answer, will you do that?

AMY GOODMAN: They’ve been critical questions.

PRESIDENT BILL CLINTON: Now, you just listen to me. You have asked questions in a hostile, combative and even disrespectful tone, and you have never been able to combat the facts I have given you. People can say whatever they want to. Those are the facts.

AMY GOODMAN: What people say is that you pushed through NAFTA, that we have the highest population of prisoners in the industrialized world, that more people are on death row in this country than anywhere else, and that people —

PRESIDENT BILL CLINTON: Oh, oh, I disagree. I think NAFTA has been good for America. Now, I’ve talked to you a long time. It’s Election Day.

AMY GOODMAN: We appreciate it.

PRESIDENT BILL CLINTON: There’s a lot of other people in America, and I’ve got to go.

AMY GOODMAN: Thank you for spending the time, President Clinton.

PRESIDENT BILL CLINTON: Thank you. Goodbye.

GONZALO ABURTO: Goodbye. Goodbye. Hasta la vista, President Clinton.

AMY GOODMAN: I go into my office, and I get a furious call. “You broke all the ground rules.” And they were weighing whether to ban me from the White House. I said, “What are you talking about? He called me. I didn’t call him.” “We told you we had a few minutes. You kept him on the phone for more than half an hour.” I said, “He’s the leader of the free world. He could hang up if he wanted to. Did no one ask questions outside getting out the vote?” And they said, “No one did.”

V: Hi, everyone. I’m V, formerly Eve Ensler. Hello, all my beautiful, radical, revolutionary siblings. I am so honored to be here tonight. I look out at the sea of these incredible, stunning, activated, radical, life-giving people, and I feel so much gratitude and emotion to be in the swell of this beloved community at a time of so much cruelty, so much pain, war, genocide, oppression. We need each other now more than ever, and we need to encourage and lift each other. So indulge me as I take a moment tonight to publicly love Amy, Nermeen, Juan and all the incredible folks behind the scene at Democracy Now! Let’s see it as praxis that we lift each other and recognize each other and honor each other, because we are all we have.

On maybe my first show with Amy on Democracy Now!, she pulled out a piece I had written from The Guardian, and she asked me to read it out loud on the spot. It was shocking and thrilling to be asked by a newscaster to give voice to something I had written on the page. It felt so different than any other news station I’d ever been on. There was, first of all, human connection. There was time to tell a story. There was Amy sitting across, beaming at me, encouraging me, truly interested in what I was saying and how I was saying it. She had, in that moment, made a place for me, right there, a home, a belonging. And I know, looking at the size of this auditorium tonight, that many of you have had that same experience, either being on Democracy Now! or watching it. We belong to Amy and Juan and Nermeen as they belong to us.

Amy Goodman is always there. She is the pilot light for the left. She’s our conduit and our container, our comrade and our curator. What does it mean to be there? To never stop, to devote your life to one thing, reporting the news, the real news, that the mainstream corporate media refuses to share, telling the stories that broaden and deeper coalitions, save lives, give voice to frontline activists and academics who deepen our understanding and, by doing so, empower our resistance. And there is always music. To be there and not be there, to disappear into the story, into the listening, into the platforming, into the telling, so that the focus is never on Amy or Nermeen or Juan, but on the injustice, the outrage, the people who never get to tell their own story, but are telling it because Amy is there, not in their way.

Amy is made of multitudes, some cosmic qualities of grit, determination and a love of the people so huge and profound it defies war zones and pandemics. I watched Amy during COVID, to go from her apartment to the studio, to walk Zazu, to go home, rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat. She never took off her mask, and she never got sick one day. She’s a national treasure. She’s riding a current of inner devotion, a light and energy born of her need to get to the bottom of what is really going on, so that the people may be free or fed or seen or celebrated. When legacy media is capitulating to authoritarian leads and networks are censoring content, bending to the will of fascists and corporate theatrics — i.e. Bari Weiss oodling Erika Kirk — Amy and Democracy Now! march on, steadfast in purpose, no scandals, no capitulation.

That is no small thing. You can’t buy her off. We trust Amy and Juan and Nermeen, because they are not above us. They are not celebrities preaching at us from some neoliberal distance, but instead, they have worn themselves into the fabric and struggle of our lives. Leonard Cohen wrote a beautiful poem on reading poetry, and it always makes me think about Amy, and I want to close with this excerpt.

“What is the expression which the age demands? The age demands no expression whatever. We have seen the photographs of [bereaved] Asian mothers. … There is nothing you can show on your face that can match the horror of this time. Do not even try. … You are playing to people who have experienced a catastrophe. … Speak the words, convey the data, step aside. … The bombs, flame-throwers, and all the shit have destroyed more than just the trees and villages. They have also destroyed the stage. Did you think that your profession would escape the general destruction? There is no more stage. There are no more footlights. You are among the people. Then be modest. Speak the words, convey the data, step aside. … Avoid the flourish. Do not be afraid to be weak. Do not be ashamed to be tired. You look good when you’re tired. You look like you could go on forever. Now come into my arms. You are the image of my beauty.”

Amy, you are the image of our beauty. Nermeen and Juan and everyone at Democracy Now!, you hold us, and you lift us, and you reveal us, and you are us. I bow to your humility, your humanity, your radical consistency, your devotion, your kindness, and thank you for these 30 glorious years. We need you now more than ever. So, please, tonight, everyone, you will see the QR codes on your cards. Give everything you can, because they have got to keep going. Free Palestine! Purge the Pentagon! End the wars! And fuck ICE! I love you!

KAREN RANUCCI: Hi. I’m Karen Ranucci, one of the producers, along with Diana Cohn and Caren Spruch, who are here in the house tonight, of this extraordinary film, Steal This Story, Please! And these are the Academy Award-nominated, Emmy-winning, incredible duo, Tia Lessin and Carl Deal, who directed and produced this film.

Our film follows Amy and the Democracy Now! team telling the story of journalism’s power and peril in an era of corporate media consolidation and political attacks on truth. Since screening at the Telluride Film Festival, this film has had an incredible run. We’ve won eight audience awards, among other awards. People laugh. They cry. They laugh some more. And then they’re up on their feet! A documentary? People on their feet at the end in a standing ovation? And they leave inspired. And they tell us, “If she can do it, I can stand up, too.” Their reaction is a testament to the importance of Amy’s voice and her story in this moment.

CARL DEAL: Thank you. Thank you, Karen, for inviting Tia and I on this grand adventure. And thank you, Amy, for saying yes. And thank you. You know, we had to — we immersed ourselves in 30 years of Democracy Now!, and so we got to know a lot of the staff and journalists. And there are just — there are hundreds and hundreds of people who are responsible for what we see every day. And, you know, they’re practicing the kind of truth telling that is an example and a model for the rest of the world, and they couldn’t do it without you guys, without the audience, because that’s who — that’s who Democracy Now! is accountable to. So, thank you to everybody who’s been a part of this incredible, incredible institution.

I want to say that making this film was a privilege. And you’ve seen some excerpts of it here tonight, but on April 10th here in New York, it’s going to be released in theaters, so you can see the whole thing. We’re also — it’s also going to roll out in theaters all across the country. Now, this, like Democracy Now!, is an independent production. We don’t take money from the government. We don’t take money from corporations. And what we rely on is the audience to come out and spread the word, not just about the film, about Amy Goodman, about Democracy Now! And so, when it opens in three weeks from now in New York City — and you can go to our website, StealThisStory.org, and find out where it’s playing in other places. You can follow us on Instagram, at StealThisStory, and help us spread the word, because if we perform well in New York this weekend, it’s going to go all over the country, and many, many more theaters are going to book it. We’re in 50 theaters right — or, 50 cities right now, and we want to — we want Amy Goodman to become a household name. So, help us out with that endeavor, please.

TIA LESSIN: And in New York, it’s going to be at the IFC Center down in Greenwich Village. We’re thrilled that Amy will be joining us on the road for sneak previews and opening weekends in select cities. And we’re also excited that in the wake of the Trump administration’s elimination of funding for public media, community stations are hosting fundraisers alongside the release of the film in their cities. And so, KPFK in LA, KPFT in Houston, KBOO in Portland, KPFW in Washington, D.C., KCBS in Seattle and many, many others —

AUDIENCE MEMBER: WBAI!

TIA LESSIN: And WBAI in New York.

KAREN RANUCCI: Thank you.

TIA LESSIN: Come join those fundraisers to rally support, to shore up support for their vital work.

Amy took us on a journey from her earliest days as a fledging reporter for her brother’s family newspaper to the powerhouse journalist we know today. And along the way, we got to know a side of her that might surprise you — irreverent, mischievous, with perfect comedic timing and a twinkle in her eye. The questions that Amy and Juan and Nermeen have been asking for decades couldn’t be more serious, and their work documenting war, injustice and abuses of power, and also the resistance movements that rise in response, couldn’t be more urgent or more necessary. Thank you so much.

KAREN RANUCCI: And I just want to say, if you go to the IFC website and it says “sold out,” don’t worry. They’re going to keep adding it, as long as you guys keep going. So help us spread the word.

CARL DEAL: And here’s the trailer.

AMY GOODMAN: Hi. I’m Amy Goodman from Democracy Now!

WELLS GRIFFITH: Sorry.

AMY GOODMAN: Can you tell us what you think about President Trump saying climate change — 

WELLS GRIFFITH: Thank you.

AMY GOODMAN: — is a Chinese hoax?

WELLS GRIFFITH: I’m sorry. I’m running late for a meeting. Thank you.

AMY GOODMAN: Right. But you weren’t running late when you were just standing there, so…

JUAN GONZÁLEZ: My first impressions of Amy —

AMY GOODMAN: What do you say to those who say that you’re a war criminal?

JUAN GONZÁLEZ: Man, she doesn’t care what anybody thinks.

AMY GOODMAN: Don’t push me. I’m a journalist here.

Independent media is the oxygen of a democracy.

TUCKER CARLSON: What do you mean by “independent”?

AMY GOODMAN: Not being sponsored by corporations.

JEREMY SCAHILL: Amy is chaotically brilliant at the spy game.

AMY GOODMAN: We began on nine radio stations.

DAVE ISAY: If she believes something, she’s going to fight for it and get it out to the world. Straight-up journalism.

AMY GOODMAN: It came from my Jewish education, that you ask questions.

Sharif, can you talk about what’s happened on the Gaza Strip?

From ground zero, from East Timor, as we deplane in Haiti, from Georgia’s death row prison.

JEREMY SCAHILL: We had to smuggle in our recording equipment. This was extremely dangerous. We’re accusing a powerful American corporation of murder.

AMY GOODMAN: Without any warning, the military opened fire on the protesters. They put the guns to our heads.

It is critical that we expose what is done in our name.

Donald Trump understood corporate owners of the media would do anything for money.

SHARIF ABDEL KOUDDOUS: She taught me: Speak to the people at the target end of the bomb. Speak to those who are being deliberately silenced.

AMY GOODMAN: When you hear someone speak, it’s less likely you’ll want to destroy them.

NERMEEN SHAIKH: We expand the frame and center those voices.

AMY GOODMAN: There is a great force that would like to silence us.

PRESIDENT DONALD TRUMP: The press is the enemy of the people.

TRUMP SUPPORTER: I will not tolerate fake news no more!

AMY GOODMAN: And we’re not going to let it happen.

AMY GOODMAN: We are thrilled that the film is opening up here in New York, and our first fundraiser will be for WBAI in New York City. You know, Democracy Now! is all of you and a group of a brain trust of amazing producers and journalists and staff who are deeply committed to independent media. And I couldn’t end this night by — OK, you get used to me saying this very quickly, almost like a song, at the end of the show. But Democracy Now! produced with Mike Burke and Deena Guzder and Messiah Rhodes and Nermeen Shaikh and María Taracena and Nicole Salazar and Sara Nasser and Charina Nadura and Sam Alcoff and Tey-Marie Astudillo and John Hamilton and Robby Karran — we hope you feel better, Robby — and Hany Massoud. Our executive director is the inimitable Julie Crosby. Special thanks to Becca Staley and Jon Randolph and Paul Powell and Mike Di Filippo, Miguel Nogueira, Hugh Gran, Carl Marxer, Denis Moynihan, David Prude, Dennis McCormick, Matt Ealy, Anna Özbek, Emily Andersen, Dante Torrieri, Buffy Saint Marie Hernandez, Brendan Allen, Neil Shibata, Angie Karran, Ishmael Daro, Kristine Mar, Amba Guerguerian and Diego Ramos, Safwat Nazzal, Hana Elias, Laura Bustillos, Adriano Contreras, our Democracy Now! en español team, Clara Ibarra, Igor Moreno, Iván Hincapié, and our amazing Democracy Now! development and administrative staff, Jeff Stauch, Yusra Razouki, Nicole Schonitzer, Emily Gosselin, Teresa Siniak, Allie Tutich, Isis Phillips, Diana Parra, Jackie Sam, Rob Young, and to our DNA, the Democracy Now! alum — you can never leave Democracy Now!, really — who are here tonight, our first producer, Julie Drizin, and Dan Coughlin, David Love and María Carrión, Sharif. Abdel Kouddous and Yoruba Richen and Hesu Coue and so many others.

And we couldn’t think of a way to end tonight. But then I saw someone in the audience, and I realized this is how we give thanks. Let’s bring on “The Boss,” Bruce Springsteen!

BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN: Hello! Happy anniversary, Democracy Now! Happy anniversary, Amy. It’s so wonderful to be here. And happy birthday, Patti! You’re welcome.

Past winter, the federal troops brought death and terror to the streets of Minneapolis. They picked the wrong city, because the power and the solidarity of the people of Minneapolis was an inspiration to the entire country. Their strength and their commitment told us that this is still America, and the reactionary nightmare and the invasion of an American city will not stand. Their strength gave us hope. They gave us courage. And for those who gave their lives — Renee Good, mother of three, brutally murdered, Alex Pretti, VA nurse, executed, shot in the back by ICE in the street and left to die — their bravery, their sacrifice and their names will not be forgotten.

This is “Streets of Minneapolis.”

[singing] Through the winter’s ice and cold
Down Nicollet Avenue
A city aflame fought fire and ice
'Neath an occupier's boots
King Trump’s private army from the DHS
Guns belted to their coats
Came to Minneapolis to enforce the law
Or so their story goes

Against smoke and rubber bullets
By the dawn’s early light
Citizens stood for justice
Their voices ringin’ through the night
And there were bloody footprints
Where mercy should have stood
Two dead, left to die on snow-filled streets
Alex Pretti and Renee Good

Oh, our Minneapolis, I hear your voice
Singing through the bloody mist
We’ll take our stand for this land
And the stranger in our midst
Here in our home, they killed and roamed
In the winter of '26
We'll remember the names of those who died
On the streets of Minneapolis

Trump’s federal thugs beat up on
His face and his chest
Then we heard the gunshots
And Alex Pretti lay in the snow dead
Their claim was self-defense, sir
Just don’t believe your eyes
It’s our blood and bones
And these whistles and phones
Against Miller and Noem’s dirty lies

Oh, Minneapolis, I hear your voice
Crying through the bloody mist
We’ll remember the names of those who died
On the streets of Minneapolis

Now they say they’re here to uphold the law
But they trample on our rights
If your skin is black or brown, my friend
You’ll be questioned or deported on sight
And in our chants of ”ICE out now”
Our city’s heart and soul persists
Through broken glass and bloody tears
On the streets of Minneapolis

Oh, Minneapolis, I hear your voice
Singing through the bloody mist
Here in our home, they killed and roamed
In the winter of '26
We'll take our stand for this land
And the stranger in our midst
We’ll remember the names of those who died
On the streets of Minneapolis
We’ll remember the names of those who died
On the streets of Minneapolis

AMY GOODMAN: Bruce. Bruce. Bruce. Bruce, you’re taking this on the road across the country, beginning in Minneapolis. Tell us about the tour.

BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN: Not much to tell. Starting in Minneapolis, then going on to Portland and Los Angeles, of course, to other cities where they had to deal with ICE, ICE’s terror. And then we’re going to end up in Washington, D.C., and with a few words to say in front of the White House.

AMY GOODMAN: And you’re saying where ICE is present. Does that mean you’re taking it to airports now?

BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN: I’ve been in plenty of them. Probably so, you know.

AMY GOODMAN: One other question. I mean, “41 Bullets,” “The Streets of Minneapolis.” Now you just made news again this morning, the ACLU launching a national ad campaign featuring your “Born in the U.S.A.,” highlighting the landmark birthright citizenship Supreme Court case that they’re going to be arguing on April 1st.

BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN: Right, right, right. Well, it’s our pleasure to be working with the ACLU, and they finally put “Born in the U.S.A.” to some good and righteous use, so I’m glad about that.

AMY GOODMAN: Well, we can’t end tonight without a joint rendition of the appeal someone made when Patti was singing, “People Have the Power,” with all the musicians on the stage, including Bruce. Folks, thank you so much for coming out and celebrating. We hope you all join in.

PATTI SMITH: Hello, everybody. Well, no rehearsal. I never saw these fellas before in my life. But we don’t need a rehearsal, because we have the people to back us up. Oh, let’s do it.

PATTI SMITH, ET AL.: [performing “People Have the Power”]
I was dreaming in my dreaming
well, of an aspect bright and fair
and my sleeping it was broken
but my dream it lingered near
in the form of shining valleys
where the pure air rarefied
and my senses newly opened
'cause I awakened to the cry
that the people have the power
to redeem the work of fools
upon the meek the graces shower
it's decreed the people rule

People have the power — believe it
People have the power — make it so
People have the power
People have the power

Vengeful aspects became suspect
and bending low as if to hear
and the armies ceased advancing
because the people had their ear
and the shepherds and the soldiers
well, lay beneath the stars
exchanging visions
and laying arms
to waste in the dust
in the form of shining valleys
where the pure air rarefied
and my senses newly opened
I awakened to the cry — come on

People have the power — believe it
People have the power — make it so
People have the power
People have the power

Where there were deserts
I saw fountains
and like cream the waters rise
and we strolled there together
with none to laugh or criticize
well, and the leopard
and the lamb
lay together truly bound
well, I was hoping in my hoping
to recall what I had found
I was dreaming in my dreaming
god knows a purer view
as I surrender into my sleeping
I commit my dream to you — come on

People have the power — to dream
People have the power — to vote
People have the power — to march
People have the power — to love

The power to dream, to rule
to wrestle the world from fools
it’s decreed the people rule
well, it’s decreed the people rule
Listen
I believe everything we dream
can come to pass through a union
we can turn the world around
we can turn the Earth’s revolution
we have the power

People have the power
The people have the power
The people have the power
The people have the power

Don’t forget it: Use your voice! Democracy now!

AMY GOODMAN: Democracy now! Thank you, everyone! Have a safe evening! And don’t forget: Tomorrow morning, tune in to Democracy Now!