Protesters Clash Among Selves, With Police

It was a scene straight out of the 1960s. Suddenly, scores of students and sundry onlookers turned and fled down a narrow courtyard on the Cal State Northridge campus Wednesday, pursued by a human wall of police officers outfitted in riot gear--batons raised, the popping thud of rubber bullets piercing the air.

The incident was the emotional culmination of the tension-filled day when ex-Ku Klux Klan Grand Wizard David Duke came to campus, invited by Cal State Northridge student leaders to debate affirmative action with local civil rights activist Joe Hicks.

The attitude among rank-and-file students Wednesday was that nobody wanted Duke around, that his mere presence sullied the debate swirling around Proposition 209, which would ban affirmative action in state and local governments. Even those students heatedly against affirmative action said Duke was no spokesman for their beliefs.

Nonetheless, throngs of protesters, many from off campus, gathered in the courtyard outside the Student Union, outshouting one another with megaphones, shoving placards in one another’s faces as book-laden bystanders stopped between classes to watch the show.

It was a protest circus that unfolded--without serious injuries--beneath an intense late September sun and fraternity and sorority rush banners.

Duke’s appearance produced a volatile mixture including Bay Area students from a group calling itself the Coalition to Defend Affirmative Action By Any Means Necessary, local Communist Party protesters, angry Latino students, college Republicans and local Jewish Defense League demonstrators.

The protesters chanted, “David Duke, you can’t hide. We charge you with genocide.” They held placards that read: “Hitler Rose. Hitler fell. David Duke, go to hell.”

As the day wore on, the protesters turned their anger on one another.

When a demonstrator from the Jewish Defense League showed up to unfurl a pro-Proposition 209 banner, he was attacked by a group of students led by Communist slogan-shouters from the Progressive Labor Party. As the fists came, Mike Canale ran for his life, finally collapsing on the sidewalk outside the student pub.

Canale was spit on by one student and kicked in the face by a woman from San Francisco State with thick black Army boots and a pierced right eyelid just as Department of Justice plainclothes officers arrived to help him.

“Why did you kick that man?” the officer asked.

“He was promoting racism,” she screamed, breathless, before disappearing into the crowd.

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Irv Rubin, the defense league’s national chairman, saw it differently. “They just started whaling on him because he didn’t believe what they believed,” he said dryly. “It seems that there’s no free speech here. Mike tried to defend himself. But you can’t take on a mob.”

Later, as the cool, well-mannered exchanges wore on inside the debate hall, the heat and the tempers rose outside. At one point, a throng of pro-affirmative action protesters from the Bay Area cajoled students to wage “a militant protest” and escort Duke off campus.

Shaking their fists, barking into a microphone, the Bay Area protesters told students they had been shot with Mace for blocking the doors to the hall.

“I just got Mace fired in my face,” one hoarse protester screamed to a campus square packed with more than 800 students. “What do you people make of that?”

“You probably got what you deserved,” called one youth, armed with his own megaphone.

The crowd erupted in cheers.

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Moments later, a Palmdale High School student took the microphone, saying the protesters were wrong to incite students to any violence. “You’re missing the point,” she said. “You can’t fight racism with violence. We don’t want to do anything stupid. We want to become one voice here. Not a mob.”

The crowd erupted again.

Jermaine Thompson, president of the school’s Black Student Union, described the overflowing emotions: “This campus is tense today,” he said. “You have FBI agents, SWAT team guys, even the bomb squad. If something breaks out, we want to get the women out of the way. We want the men to mobilize like soldiers.”

But the event that ended up reminiscent of a 1960s-era political demonstration initially began as 1990s business as usual, with some students scalping limited free tickets to the debate for as much as $300. The mood on the campus was clearly pro-affirmative action, yet most students appeared nonchalantly amused by all the noisy activity, which drew heavy media coverage.

Angela Walker, 20, a criminology major, paid $50 for her debate ticket. “It’s worth 50 bucks to me to get in there and speak my mind,” she said.

Her sidekick, however, disagreed. “I’ve got better ways to spend my money,” said 20-year-old Patty Martinez. “Like clothes. Anything.”

An hour before the 2:30 p.m. debate was to begin, students stopped between classes to listen to the chants of protesters. Student Senate President Vladimir Cerna criticized the influx of outside agitators.

“Most of the protesters don’t even go to school here,” he said during an interview. “They’re from Berkeley and San Francisco. Our people are acting cool.”

But even Cerna came under criticism from fellow CSUN students.

“It was foolish to bring Duke here and not think this would happen,” said sophomore Leslie Moyer. “I blame Cerna.”

Outside the Student Union, 19-year-old accounting major Yanira Inguanzo said she was glad to have an opportunity to shake a fist at David Duke. “He represents an extreme and has said so many bad things about minorities. You read them in the paper and you get so mad. And now he’s right here in front of us.”

At 3:30 p.m., after CSUN police called for assistance, an estimated 183 officers, about 20 on horseback, arrived on campus. Then, as the debaters fielded questions inside, the police-protester confrontations began outside.

At one point, as protesters hurled insults, rocks and bottles, police retaliated. About 30 chased a demonstrator across a grassy knoll and wrestled him to the ground.

Edward Vasquez, a UC Berkeley student, said he was “just running from the cops.”

Police saw it otherwise: “He hit a police officer in the head with a rock,” one said.

But the most uncomfortable moment of the day came as officers moved in on a group of protesters who had heckled and jeered them at a back entrance to the debate hall. Moments earlier, a woman who identified herself as Yvette Felarca yelled epithets against Los Angeles police officers, including former Officer Mark Fuhrman.

As the officers moved toward the students, riot shields covering their faces, some in the crowd threw objects including a basketball-sized rock that hit one officer in his face mask.

Police let go with at least six volleys of rubber bullets as students turned and fled down the narrow courtyard. The scene instantly became a fog of dust, flying rocks and screams as the students surged toward Lindley Avenue.

In a matter of minutes, the phalanx of officers had pushed everybody in their path--both bystanders and protesters alike--out of their way. Some students described watching in stunned disbelief as a young woman was hit in the head by an officer on horseback.

Said freshman Jesse Chavez: “The cops provoked the madness.”

Again, on this day of debate, the police held a different view.

“At one point,” said Los Angeles Police Deputy Chief Martin Pomeroy, the students’ “right to demonstrate crossed over when they started throwing rocks and bottles at us.”

Also contributing to this story were Times staff writers Martha L. Willman, Julie Tamaki, Beth Shuster, Jose Cardenas and Eric Slater.

* MAIN STORY: A1

* DEBATE TRANSCRIPT: B3