A very depressing walk in Charlotte

CHARLOTTE, N.C.—The neighborhood where Democrats will meet this coming week is as agreeable as any I’ve seen in the 18 conventions I’ve attended. Tryon Street is lined with restaurants, bars, comfortable benches on the street for a few minutes of ease or conversation. College Street boasts more of the same, with movie theaters, cafes, shops of every variety.

At least, that was what the neighborhood looked and felt like on Saturday. By Sunday morning, the 10-block walk from my hotel to the convention center left me profoundly depressed.

Metal gates lined the sidewalks, blocking the entrance to building after building; security guards were posted at almost every entrance. Uniformed police, soldiers, steel barriers, vehicles of every sort filled the streets. It was as if a military coup had occurred during the night.

“So,” I hear you saying, “what else is new? Conventions have been like this for years, at least since 9/11, right?”

Well, yes and no. Even before Sept. 11, 2001, there was considerable security around convention sites. But it’s not false nostalgia to say that it has gotten worse every year. On “Morning Joe” last week, Tom Brokaw—whose convention memories stretch back nearly half a century—said that the Republican convention in Tampa last week featured the most onerous security he could remember.

And we’re not talking about an inconvenience to the news media, which many might regard as well-deserved. (In fact, getting in and out of the Tampa Convention Center was as smooth and frictionless as at any convention I’ve attended.)

I’m talking about the larger venue: the streets and roads of the host city, the massive presence of the police and military, the instant challenge to anyone walking in the “frozen zone” without credentials.

Of course the need for security has grown over the years. A host city that did not take precautions would be pilloried if demonstrators pulled off the kinds of disruptions that hit Seattle during the 1999 World Trade Organization meeting. Bank of America would be derelict if it did not ensure the safety of its Charlotte headquarters.

In a larger sense, however, the draconian security triggered in me the same feeling I have during presidential inaugurations, or when I visit the Capitol where I worked as a young aide 45 years ago, when metal detectors at every entrance were unknown: This should not be the way a free country conducts its affairs of state. And in that sense, to use a shopworn but sadly relevant cliché, the terrorists have indeed won a small but painful victory.