Overreaction?

All this is a bit much when one considers the size of the actual threat posed by CNVA's peace march. There were only about 60 people in the march when it began Saturday from the Boston Common; but even this number dwindled rapidly. By the end of the day, there were only 25, and on Sunday there were 15. Surely, in itself, this represents little real power; with hardly any effort, you could miss the entire demonstration.

To explain this overreaction is difficult. The simplest, if not the most complete, explanation is that the marchers represent a real or imagined threat much larger than their own numbers. There is little discrimination between types of protest; this march is like all the others, and represents all others. Or, perhaps one must simply classify the overreaction as "irrational." But whatever the causes, one thing about the overreaction is certain: it is predictable. CNVA understands this--and the question one has to ask is why they keep coming back for more and more.

Here, of course, there are a number of traditional explanations. Publicity? But CNVA hardly tries to increase the size of their demonstrations, and numbers like 10 and 15 do not seem calculated to produce big newspaper headlines. Establishing the right to protest? But CNVA has almost ignored this angle. It does not ask for police protection, and last spring, when there were protests against police inaction, it was the American Civil Liberties Union, not CNVA, that took the lead.

It is possible that CNVA hopes to draw public opinion to its side by providing clear-cut instances of public brutality and police inaction. Yet again, CNVA makes no significant organizing efforts, and leaders rarely complain about the police.

If there is a fundamental motivation to CNVA, it is something that personally motivates each member. Many of the younger people in the group have burned their draft cards and face court prosecution. CNVA's political goals are only the broadest in nature. There are few specific objectives, such as there are in the civil rights movement, for example. In this, CNVA is different from many of the so-called "New Left" organizations, which have specific policy ideas and are constantly experimenting with ways to implement them.

CNVA, in fact, is by choice a rather small group. It has a major headquarters on a farm in Voluntown, Conn., where many members live off and on; but there are hardly ever more than 50 or 60. In Boston, CNVA demonstrations have rarely involved more than 10 or 15 people. CNVA is not selective, but merely non-aggressive in its recruiting, and as a result, it draws only those who have a deep personal commitment to pacifism.

All this makes for the peculiar brand of CNVA activism--it is far more morally than politically motivated. It is the kind of activism that prompts John Phillips to set out on a personal peace walk, unannounced and unpublicized, from Boston to Providence. "I would just saunter along and start to talk to people," Phillips says. He had hoped that the Boston to Provincetown march would do the same thing on a larger scale, but even from his perspective, it is proving a mild disappointment.

"When I walk alone," he explained last Sunday, "it's easy to stop and talk with someone. Here it's almost the opposite. We're all carrying signs and nobody wants to stop."

That, as Phillips found out, wasn't exactly true. People stopped all right--but not to talk