Mob Scene in Miami
We look at the players behind the "spontaneous" protest that preceded the shutdown of Miami-Dade's recount
Tim Padgett/Miami With reporting by Kathie Klarreich/Miami
Marjorie Strayer insisted she was just a Virginian on vacation
in Miami. She had come to the downtown Stephen P. Clark
Government Center to watch the Dade County vote
recount--something to do before the trip to the Seaquarium. But
Strayer, it turns out, is a top aide to New Mexico's Republican
Congresswoman, Heather Wilson, and was one of hundreds of paid
G.O.P. crusaders who descended on South Florida last Wednesday
to protest the state's recounts. "The system is unfair,
inaccurate, fraught with human error!" Strayer cried. In a
Winnebago outside, G.O.P. operatives orchestrated the ranks up
to the 19th floor, hoping to halt the tally of the largest
potential lode of Gore votes.
Republicans, not usually known for takin' it to the streets, got
what they wanted. Just two hours after a near riot outside the
counting room, the Miami-Dade canvassing board voted to shut down
the count. Yet the way the Republicans went after it, by
intimidating the three-member board or by providing the excuse it
was looking for, gave Americans the first TV view of strong-arm
tactics in what was supposed to be a showcase of democracy in
action. If Jesse Jackson can do it, the Republicans argued, so
can we. But the G.O.P.'s march turned into a mob. The screaming,
the pounding on doors and the alleged physical assaults on
Democrats suddenly made a bemused public queasy. "I'm all for
anyone's right to protest," says Miami-Dade Democratic chairman
Joe Geller, who had to have a police escort. "These were
Brownshirt tactics."
It was the Dade vote counters, however, who provoked the
Republican machine. Seemingly oblivious to G.O.P. anger over the
Florida Supreme Court ruling to allow manual recounts, the
canvassing board tried an end run around the court's Sunday
deadline by deciding to recount only some 11,000 of Dade's
654,000 ballots. Those disputed ballots, most of which did not
register presidential votes in the machines, were thought to
favor Gore. Worse, the board moved into a smaller room that cut
off public observation. "They denied our legal rights," says Paul
Crespo, an ex-Marine and coordinator of a group called Young
Professionals for Bush. "We cried foul." In fact, the
Republicans, who justifiably delight in throwing 1960s chants
back at Democrats, began shouting, "The whole world is watching!"
What the world watched was a G.O.P. melee. When Geller walked out
of the room with a sample ballot, the crowd accused him of
stealing a real one and responded as if he had just nabbed a baby
for its organs. Geller says he was pushed by two dozen protesters
screaming, "I'm gonna take you down!" Luis Rosero, a Democratic
observer, claims he was punched and kicked. Republicans dispute
the charges, but video cameras caught scenes of activism that had
morphed into menace. The organizers in the RV outside, who G.O.P.
protesters have told TIME were led by hardball Washington
strategist Roger Stone, had phone banks churning out calls to
Miami Republicans, urging them to storm downtown. (Stone could
not be reached for comment.) One of them was a fire fighter, Rob
Eltus, 45: "What Americans are finally seeing is Republicans fed
up."
But what really may have given the canvassing board pause was a
sight that strikes fear in any Florida politician, especially
elected Dade County judges like Lawrence King, the board's
chairman: angry Cuban voters. They marched on the Clark Center
after a conservative radio station, Radio Mambi, broadcast
interviews with two Cuban-American G.O.P. members of Congress,
Lincoln Diaz-Balart and Ileana Ros-Lehtinen, who decried the
board's moves. For Miami's Cubans, almost 80% of whom voted for
Bush, this election is mostly about avenging Elian Gonzalez. One
of Judge King's paid political consultants is Armando Gutierrez,
the man who distributed the Orwellian videotape of Elian
denouncing his father last spring.
Democrats last week called for a federal probe of the incident.
Sources close to Democratic Miami-Dade Mayor Alex Penelas tell
TIME that a G.O.P. intermediary, Miami political consultant
Herman Echevarria--at the behest of state Republican leaders--tried
to approach Penelas Wednesday morning to see if the mayor "might
talk" to the canvassing board. The sources say Penelas preferred
to stay out of it. (Dade elections supervisor David Leahy, a
board member, also works for Penelas.) Both Echevarria and
Florida G.O.P. chairman Al Cardenas deny such contact. But
Penelas, a Cuban American, is seen as vulnerable by G.O.P.
leaders because he has been estranged from the Gore campaign
since the Elian debacle. Either way, Democrats are asking what
the board said--and with whom they met--while holed up in the Clark
Center waiting out the riot.
--With reporting by Kathie Klarreich/Miami
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