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It’s
been two years since members of the Free State Project chose New
Hampshire to be the “Free State.” All the prophesy in anticipation of
their migration—that a massive influx of outsiders would invade the
state, change the laws and “take over” New Hampshire—has not come to
pass. But neither has the lofty goal set in 2001 by project organizers:
20,000 participants by 2006. Current membership levels are at about
6,700, with 380 Free Staters actually living here.
The Free State Project, a concept coined by Jason Sorens in 2001 to
jumpstart libertarian activism, has not turned out to be quite the
political force that everyone hoped (or feared) it would be, at least
not in ways visible to the naked eye. Only a handful of
libertarian-minded candidates have made it into public office, but for
the people who’ve made New Hampshire their new home in the last two
years, getting elected to local school boards or helping steer a bill
through the state Legislature is significant progress, especially for a
movement still in its early stages. Whether the FSP succeeds or fails
in the traditional sense seems unimportant to those who’ve already made
the move. They’re here, they’re politically engaged and, like it or
not, they’ve given New Hampshire another moniker it will never shake.
The Granite State and the Live Free or Die state will also be known
forevermore as the Free State.
born free
Like much of the political activism of the last five years, the Free State Project began on the Internet.
It all started with a July 2001 article in The Libertarian Enterprise,
an online libertarian magazine. After the 2000 presidential election,
Jason Sorens, then a doctoral candidate at Yale, had been thinking of
ways for libertarians to effectively penetrate the monolithic political
system. The idea for a “free state” came to him sometime around June of
2001. “I talked about it with friends and family before deciding it was
a worthwhile idea and ought to be published,” he says.
The essay that established the FSP reads less like a manifesto than
like a casual e-mail from a friend describing a fantasy business
scheme. It’s the political equivalent of a bit on “Seinfeld:” think of
Kramer walking into Jerry’s apartment and saying, “What if we could
take over our own state?” Only, of course, more serious than that.
Sorens opened his essay with some hard words for libertarians.
“Libertarian activists need to face a somber reality,” he wrote. “Nothing’s working.”
Sorens’ solution, based on his dissertation research, was to gather
thousands of libertarian-minded people and have them establish
residence in a small state, thereby taking over the state government.
The idea was to start small, take over, and then maybe secede from the
United States. Whether secession occurred or not, Sorens argued, the
mere threat would leverage the government into granting the “free
state” more latitude—smaller government, more individual freedom,
private education and a lighter tax burden. However, the idea of
secession was dropped “very early on,” according to Sorens.
“That was mainly because of my (doctoral) research in that area, but
subsequent discussions among people interested in the (free state) idea
revealed that goal is really unnecessary,” he says.
The project, which is not officially affiliated with the Libertarian
Party but is aligned with a libertarian philosophy, began to attract
members over the Internet, and when the FSP reached 5,000
“participants” (that is, those who’ve signed the FSP “Statement of
Intent” on the Web site) in August 2003, a vote was held to determine
which state members would move to. The choices were: Alaska, Delaware,
Idaho, Maine, Montana, New Hampshire, North Dakota, South Dakota,
Vermont and Wyoming.
On Oct. 1, 2003, New Hampshire was declared the Free State.
Then-governor Craig Benson, himself an advocate for smaller government,
welcomed the would-be residents with warm words: “Come on up,” he said.
“We’d love to have you.”
And really, what better fit for a gang of politically minded
libertarians? With “Live Free or Die” emblazoned on every license plate
and proudly income- and sales-tax free, New Hampshire has a reputation
for making up its own mind on everything, whether it’s choosing to be
the only state without a mandatory seatbelt law or the last state to
recognize Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday as a holiday. The porcupine
became the project’s mascot—a cute and friendly animal that you’d be
wise not to interfere with, much like the famously “live and let live”
people who populate the state. It wasn’t long before the media began
heralding the arrival of hordes of libertarians with a mix of kinship
and trepidation. Would the outsiders be a sanctimonious lot, eager to
tell us how to be “free?” Or would they embrace New Hampshire values
and blend easily into the landscape? A editorial in the Portsmouth
Herald said the FSP’s choice of New Hampshire “confirms (the) state’s
philosophy,” while state Democratic party chairwoman Kathy Sullivan
described the group as “anarchists” and focused on some members’ more
radical stances (legalizing prostitution and drugs, for instance) to
characterize them as a bunch of lawless outsiders. An editorial in the
Nashua Telegraph asked, “Does anyone remember being asked if we wanted
our state government to be taken over in this fashion? Who is asking
for this invasion? How nice of the libertarians to attempt a takeover,
even when they cooked up the idea without consultation with the
non-libertarian inhabitants.”
That first year, not much happened. There were some protests—a group of
Free Staters wanted to move en masse to the tiny community of Grafton
and take over, much to the ire of locals—but things were fairly quiet.
Libertarians, like the rest of the people who moved into the fastest
growing state in New England that year, began dribbling into the state,
buying homes, setting up businesses and getting organized. Newmarket
resident Mike Fisher disrupted that quiet in May, though, with a
protest so radical, so revolutionary, that it attracted world-wide
attention. He gave someone a manicure.
civil disobedience, volunteerism and other activisms
Mike Fisher doesn’t look like the kind of guy who gets arrested. Slim
and lanky with long brown hair tied back in a ponytail, you wouldn’t
guess he’s got a criminal record.
Fisher, who moved to New Hampshire from Vermont in April of 2004 as
part of the FSP, wanted to protest what he thought were unnecessary
licensing laws in the state. On May 9, he stationed himself outside the
state’s Board of Barbering, Cosmetology and Esthetics and gave an
unlicensed “manicure” to Kat Dillon, a fellow Free Stater living in
Keene. For his rogue emery-board challenge, he spent two days in
Merrimack County Jail, alongside a guy who was in jail for “riding a
snowmobile without a registration” and other offenders who hadn’t
“stolen anything or hurt anyone,” according to Fisher.
Civil disobedience became something of a passion for Fisher after he
watched “Gandhi,” the 1982 film about the life of the Mahatma Gandhi.
Before watching the movie, Fisher says he would go online and talk to
other Porcupines about how everything upset him.
“When I watched (“Gandhi”), the … negativity went away,” he says. “I’m
not angry about things anymore. I’m hopeful.” Fisher now sports a
tattoo of a quote by Gandhi on his arm. It reads: “The quest of truth
involves self-suffering, sometimes even unto death.”
To earn his living, Fisher runs a computer troubleshooting business out
of his home. He also helps maintain www.nhunderground.com, an Internet
forum where Free Staters and other libertarians gather to swap ideas,
discuss projects, and, oftentimes, argue with each other. Not everyone
agrees on methods, but they’ve all got the same goal: less government
and more freedom. How that point is reached is another matter entirely.
Some, like Fisher, believe in volunteer work and acts of non-violent
civil disobedience. Others want to get involved in politics and change
the system from the inside. And even that final destination—a place
with little government and lots of personal responsibility—is mutable.
Radical members of the group want to legalize prostitution, drugs and
other “victimless” crimes, while more moderate folks simply want lower
taxes and less emphasis on government services. With members covering
the entire political spectrum, it’s easy to see why the Free Staters,
as a whole, rub some people the wrong way—they don’t have much of a
party line and they’re impossible to pigeonhole.
There have been notable splits among the group over many issues. After
a Supreme Court decision in July that granted the city of New London,
Conn., the right to take private property and hand it over to corporate
developers so long as the new use was to the public’s benefit, some
Libertarians backed a plan to have Supreme Court Justice David Souter’s
home in Weare seized under eminent domain laws. And some Porcupines are
advocating the use of the Liberty Dollar, an alternative currency
backed by silver. American money, previously backed gold and silver,
has not been backed by any precious metals since the early 1970s.
Liberty Dollar advocates say the LD is a fairer, more stable currency.
Opponents think it’s a scam.
Fisher’s protest in May was followed by another high-profile act of
civil disobedience in June. Russell Kanning, husband to Kat Dillon,
attempted to board a plane at the Manchester Airport without showing
any identification. Armed with only a pocket-sized copy of the
Constitution and a small Bible, Kanning almost made it through security
before Rockingham County sheriff’s deputies apprehended him. Kanning
was protesting what he feels are unnecessary security measures at the
airport, measures that he believes limit freedom and treat regular
folks like criminals. Kanning spent a couple days in jail and attracted
even more media attention. USA Today’s headline read “Bible-toting
Libertarian pleads guilty to trespassing at airport.”
Possible targets for future protests include the state’s “monopoly” on
alcohol sales (and the drinking age) and the postal system. Licensing
is still very much on Fisher’s mind, and the “outlaw manicure” protest
got some results—a bill will be introduced to the state legislature in
2006 to scale back licensing regulations.
“Did you know geology is licensed?” Fisher says. “You can’t study rocks without the government (saying you can).”
A lot of Free Staters eschew politics and focus on volunteer work,
whether it’s at the New Outlook Teen Center as part of the Timberland
Company’s “Servi-palooza” event or the Sylvania 300 race at Loudon
International Speedway three weeks ago.
There are plans to do work at nursing homes and sign up for the state’s
“Adopt A Highway” program. There’s also the Liberty Scholarship Fund,
which disburses financial awards to students and families that either
want to find a private school or start home schooling. This year, the
LSF awarded three families scholarships of $1,000 each.
Volunteer work is also a good way to “spread the word to more people
about freedom,” says Dave Mincin, a Dover resident who moved to the
state almost two years ago. Mincin heads up the civic action committee
of the New Hampshire Liberty Alliance, a political-action group made up
of Free Staters and established libertarians.
“I think freedom gets a black eye,” Mincin says. “What we always hear
from our opponents is ‘You’re selfish, you don’t care about children
and the old people.’ That’s not true.” The NHLA wants to educate kids
about “freedom issues, how their government works,” and also wants to
work with seniors.
“We lock them up in what we call nursing homes, but what they are, are
jails for old people,” he says. “We want to let them know someone cares
about them and government isn’t the answer for everything.”
Hurricane Katrina has underscored the country’s ambivalence about
government’s role. Bureaucratic red tape and excessive regulations kept
help from getting there quickly and hampered early relief efforts.
However, the mainstream critique has emphasized more government relief,
not less, noting that small-government activists like Grover Norquist
pushed the feds into a situation in which money was taken away from
relief efforts.
It all boils down to two basic questions: what is the government
responsible for, and who picks up the slack? For most Free Staters, the
government should only be in place to defend liberty and protect
private property, nothing more. Private corporations and regular folks
can do everything else.
Except, not always. Red Cross regulations prohibit anyone who’s had any
criminal conviction in the last two years, even for an illicit
manicure, from volunteering with the aid organization, a compelling
argument for fewer rules.
building political fitness
Volunteerism and civil disobedience aside, the Free State Project is,
at heart, a political organization. That means that if you haven’t
already seen any names associated with the FSP on your local ballot,
you soon might.
Free Staters have already been elected to local offices in Winchester
and Goffstown, and there are about a dozen FSPers running for local
offices this year: two Free Staters are making a bid for the Concord
school board; Dave Mincin is looking for a city council seat in Dover;
and there’s a trio of candidates vying for selectmen positions in
Manchester. Mincin says newly transplanted residents are still learning
the ropes. It’s a good place to learn—many New Hampshire towns still
rely on old-fashioned town meetings to get things done, and the state
government is one of the largest representative bodies in the world.
That gives ordinary citizens a chance to flex their muscle, too. Free
Staters have placed a special spending cap question on the ballot in
Manchester and influenced the outcome of a local warrant article in
Keene. The NHLA considers how every bill that comes before the
Legislature will affect liberty and maintains a report card on New
Hampshire House of Representatives. Bills on the NHLA’s radar this year
ran the gamut from attempts to institute an income tax and establish a
hemp industry to mandatory seatbelt laws and traffic-light cameras.
Helping Free Staters navigate the state’s political waters is Don
Gorman. He serves as director of political action for the NHLA and is a
former state representative. In the last two years, he’s held dozens of
“training sessions” for newly-transplanted Porcupines and other
burgeoning libertarian activists. As part of his crash-course in state
politics, Gorman takes his protégés, as he calls them, to the State
House, has them sit in on hearings, and teaches them how to speak in
public and how to stay cool while under fire. Politics is a learned
skill, Gorman says, and training is essential.
“It’s just like racecar driving,” he says. “You wouldn’t get into the
Indy 500 in one of those cars (without experience). I’d get halfway
around the track and kill myself. Politics is similar.”
And so, like Burgess Meredith training Sylvester Stallone in “Rocky,”
Gorman takes future candidates under his wing. “It’s taking them six
months to a year just to adjust to the fact they have all this freedom
in New Hampshire,” he says. And while they do that, Gorman encourages
them to be visible in the community.
“Your first job when you come here is to be a good citizen. Join the
volunteer fire department, join the playground committee, join the
friends of the library,” he says. “Ninety-nine percent are following
that role.”
According to Varrin Swearingen, the vice-president of operations for
the FSP, 2006 will be the year to watch, when many who recently moved
to New Hampshire will be eligible to run for the state legislature.
“I think it will be, if nothing else, interesting and educational to
see who gets elected and who doesn’t and why, and what the reaction
really is,” Swearingen says. For his part, Swearingen, who lives in
Keene, is “lying low” until after 2006.
“I think there’s probably some learning to do first, and I’m learning
as time goes on how New Hampshire politics works. And of course, I need
to get to know my neighbors and whatnot, and that takes time.”
pockets of opposition
That learning curve is as much for the Porcupine candidates as it is for voters.
Seth Cohn, a school board candidate in Concord, says there are some
“misunderstandings” over what Free Staters are all about. People are
surprised, he says, when they learn Free Stater candidates espouse
ideas for lower taxes, smaller government and personal responsibility.
Some view these as “traditional New Hampshire values” while other more
“progressive” types feel “very threatened,” according to Cohn.
This has led to tactics like “outing” candidates who don’t immediately
reveal their connection to the FSP and angry letters in local papers.
Some Free State candidates are fearful their status as Free Staters
will distract voters from issues within the campaign or give opponents
a way to paint them as outsiders. After an article about Cohn’s
candidacy appeared in the Concord Monitor, one resident wrote to voice
suspicion about the intentions of Cohn and fellow Free State candidate
Norman Bernier. The writer, Alexander P. Lee of Concord, was a regional
campaign director for Howard Dean, an example of “hardcore, very left
Democrats” who have an axe to grind, Cohn says.
However, Lee says he’s concerned about Cohn’s stance on charter and
private schools. Lee says members of the school board should be working
to improve the school system, not making it easier for private schools
to compete with public education.
“I think he should try and get on the board of a charter school or a private school if this is his interest,” Lee says.
Does Lee “have an axe to grind” as Cohn claims? “Nope,” says Lee. It’s
not about politics but worries about public education, and Lee says
he’s not alone.
“I’ve talked to a number of people who’ve worked on education issues in Concord, and they’re very concerned,” he says.
To some state political watchers, the Free Staters are integrating
nicely into the state’s political culture. Charlie Arlinghaus is
director of the Josiah Bartlett Center for Public Policy in Concord, a
non-partisan think-tank. He says Free Staters are coming here “because
they like New Hampshire, which is why most of us come here.”
“It’s not really any different than people who moved here from
Massachusetts to escape the higher taxes,” he says. “They like what
we’re doing, so they want to join us. I think what’s promised is more
of the same.”
Others find some Free Staters to be dangerous.
Chaz Proulx is communications director for Democracy for New Hampshire
and a founding member of the Seacoast Progressive Alliance. Members of
Democracy for New Hampshire protested the FSP’s first anniversary
banquet in 2004, at which former Gov. Craig Benson was a guest.
Proulx claims FSP members are closely allied with Ed Naile and the
Coalition of New Hampshire Taxpayers, a vocal anti-tax group. In turn,
Naile is friends with Grover Norquist, founder of Americans for Tax
Reform and the guy many credit with pushing President Bush to
drastically reduce the size of government.
“Libertarians have some good ideas,” Proulx says. “The problem is they
just open the door in a very naive way to far right wing’s agenda.”
For the most part, he says Free Staters are “well-meaning young people”
who are lumped in with other, far more extreme, libertarians. Proulx
maintains a blog on NHInsider.com and wrote an entry about members on
the New Hampshire Underground who were advocating for an illegal
militia. He says they’re also “much too close” to state gun groups.
“I’ve never seen the Free State Project nor the (New Hampshire) Liberty
Alliance do anything to separate itself from people like that,” he says.
As for the future, Proulx also believes Free Staters will become a
political force, but not a benign one. They’ll influence local
government with “strong arm tactics,” according to Proulx, and seek to
slash public education funding.
“They’re very open about their anti-public education stance,” he says.
“You have them going into small towns, and the towns are already
stressed out now with property taxes, and their message can resonate.”
Cohn is upfront about his campaign platforms and says he doesn’t want
to do anything radical like abolish public education. “Let’s improve
our dropout rate, let’s work on more things like vocational training,”
he says. “I’m not looking to go ahead and get rid of school. … We just
want the best schools we can get for the best amount of money.”
Neither Swearingen nor Cohn agree with the civil disobedience methods
employed by Fisher and others, but they’re eager to make the two
strategies work together.
“When somebody illustrates a problem via civil disobedience, it creates
an opportunity for those of us who prefer political activism to do
something about it,” Swearingen says.
As more Porcupines move to the state, Cohn sees them getting increasingly involved with politics.
“We’re not going away. We’re here because we have a belief that
personal responsibility is very important, personal liberties matter,
and that’s not strange for New Hampshire,” he says.
the free future
Will Free Staters turn New Hampshire into a libertarian utopia? Even if
the FSP reaches its goal of 20,000 participants, then it’s an unlikely
outcome in a state with more than 1.2 million people. Certainly, the
project is far short of its goal—about 13,000 people short. In fact,
FSP founder Jason Sorens said the 2006 date soon will be dropped,
re-characterizing the FSP as a long-term project instead. But what has
been surprising, according to Sorens, is the number of people who
immediately moved to the state after the announcement in October 2003.
The plan was for people to start moving within five years after 20,000
signatures had been obtained; that people started moving right away was
encouraging to Sorens.
As such, much of the project’s leadership, comprised of a president and
board of directors, do not live in New Hampshire. Sorens is teaching
political science at SUNY Buffalo and says he’ll move to New Hampshire
as soon as the academic job market allows.
Much in the same way that it’s best not to interfere with porcupines in
the woods, the Free State Project does not interfere, endorse, or
condemn any of the activism done by members living in New Hampshire.
“We’re not interested in directing any particular political or
charitable or social action in New Hampshire,” says Sorens. “So we’re
encouraging the people who have moved and the people who are friendly
to us in New Hampshire to exercise leadership and initiative, starting
the activities they believe are worthwhile.”
It’s a stance that’s distressing to some participants, who feel the
project’s leadership is too distant from the work being done here. The
lack of public support, and the absence of any kind of FSP central
office in the state, fosters a kind of disconnect between those living
in New Hampshire and the project’s leaders, according to Fisher.
“When you don’t see someone and all you’re doing is e-mailing them it doesn’t mean anything,” he says.
For the Free Staters already here, the goal of 20,000 members might not
even need to get that high. Many think that just by being a visible,
active presence in the community, other liberty-minded folks will be
roused from their slumber and renew the quest for less government and
more freedom.
“I’ve very much come to the belief that if we can bring 2,000 people
here, there could be some major changes in the way government is
conducted here in New Hampshire, and a big part of that reason is not
because of the 2,000 people that come here, but the four, six, eight,
ten or 50,000 that agree with us but have just kind of lost hope,”
Mincin says.
Don’t hold your breath for a libertarian governor just yet, though.
“People are going to run, but I personally don’t think they’ll get
elected any time soon,” Cohn says of the top office. “We need to start
from the bottom up and take local offices and … prove we do have the
best interest … and traditions of New Hampshire at heart.”
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