On August 22, 1971, a group of Vietnam War protesters broke into the draft board offices in Camden, New Jersey, with the intention of destroying files and bringing the selective service process to a halt in that city. Yet, these were not your stereotypical '60's radicals bent on subverting the government and tearing down the establishment. Rather, they were thoughtful, deeply religious people (two were priests and one a Protestant minister) acting out of a stern conviction that not only was the war itself immoral but that the draft was inherently iniquitous because it aimed its sites squarely on the poor and underprivileged in the society while allowing the majority of the wealthy to escape unscathed. Unbeknownst to them, the protesters even had a Judas in their midst - one of their own number who had already informed on them to the FBI, resulting in the arrest, trial and ultimate acquittal of what would come to be known as The Camden 28.
The documentary, "The Camden 28," written and directed by Anthony Giacchino, gathers together many of the original members of the group to reminisce about the break-in and the trial and to reflect on how the event helped to turn the legal tide in favor of war protesters. For it was at the trial that the Camden 28 came to be seen as advocates for civil liberties who had simply employed the time-honored and deeply American tradition of civil disobedience as a foundation for their actions, making them more akin to abolitionists or the rebels at the Boston Tea Party than to actual criminals - i.e., people more concerned with securing justice than with adhering to the strict letter of the law. The movie provides ample opportunity for the participants to state their case, interspersed with a generous helping of footage and photos that help to recapture the temper of the times in which all this took place.
Giacchino's sympathies clearly lie with the 28, but he is not averse to examining some of the moral complexities of the issues involved, particularly in regards to Bob Hardy, the informant who was himself an opponent of the war and a part of the "Catholic Left," but who simply felt that his friends were going about their protest in the wrong way. In fact, not long after the arrests, Hardy switched his allegiance to the other side, testifying in favor of his buddies and against the FBI whom he claims lied to him in assuring him that none of the perpetrators would be placed on trial after their arrests. Giacchino captures the sense of betrayal many of the 28 felt towards Hardy for what he had done to them, but he also shows how forgiveness and reconciliation have worked to bring about an emotional healing for many of the parties involved (and, indeed, Hardy gets to have his say right along with everybody else).
Though their story is only a very small piece of a much larger fabric, the Camden 28 still inspire us with their unflagging commitment to justice and their willingness to sacrifice all for a cause they believe in. As one of the prosecutors interviewed for the film states, no matter what one may think of the rightness of this specific action, one must still admire the courage, dedication and moral conviction that motivated them to do what they did.
This is a moving and uplifting film no matter one's political persuasion or stripe.
The documentary, "The Camden 28," written and directed by Anthony Giacchino, gathers together many of the original members of the group to reminisce about the break-in and the trial and to reflect on how the event helped to turn the legal tide in favor of war protesters. For it was at the trial that the Camden 28 came to be seen as advocates for civil liberties who had simply employed the time-honored and deeply American tradition of civil disobedience as a foundation for their actions, making them more akin to abolitionists or the rebels at the Boston Tea Party than to actual criminals - i.e., people more concerned with securing justice than with adhering to the strict letter of the law. The movie provides ample opportunity for the participants to state their case, interspersed with a generous helping of footage and photos that help to recapture the temper of the times in which all this took place.
Giacchino's sympathies clearly lie with the 28, but he is not averse to examining some of the moral complexities of the issues involved, particularly in regards to Bob Hardy, the informant who was himself an opponent of the war and a part of the "Catholic Left," but who simply felt that his friends were going about their protest in the wrong way. In fact, not long after the arrests, Hardy switched his allegiance to the other side, testifying in favor of his buddies and against the FBI whom he claims lied to him in assuring him that none of the perpetrators would be placed on trial after their arrests. Giacchino captures the sense of betrayal many of the 28 felt towards Hardy for what he had done to them, but he also shows how forgiveness and reconciliation have worked to bring about an emotional healing for many of the parties involved (and, indeed, Hardy gets to have his say right along with everybody else).
Though their story is only a very small piece of a much larger fabric, the Camden 28 still inspire us with their unflagging commitment to justice and their willingness to sacrifice all for a cause they believe in. As one of the prosecutors interviewed for the film states, no matter what one may think of the rightness of this specific action, one must still admire the courage, dedication and moral conviction that motivated them to do what they did.
This is a moving and uplifting film no matter one's political persuasion or stripe.
