Dissent in DC FLARES Up 24/7

How a Small Encampment at Union Station Became a Constant Presence On May 1, 2025, a handful of activists pitched several white tents on the grounds surrounding Columbus Circle at Washington's Union Station. At first glance, it looked like many of the temporary demonstrations that have come and gone in the nation's capital for generations. But the organizers had something far more ambitious in mind. Their goal was not a single march, a weekend rally, or a one-day demonstration. Instead, they announced an unprecedented commitment: to maintain a peaceful, around-the-clock presence within sight of the U.S. Capitol until they believed fundamental political change had been achieved. The organization called itself  FLARE —short for  For Liberation and Resistance Everywhere . Its members describe the movement as a volunteer-powered, nonviolent campaign opposing what they characterize as authoritarianism under President Donald Trump. Their principal demand has been the impeachment and...

Holding the Line—Life Inside a 24-Hour Protest When you walk past Union Station early in the morning, late at night, or on a rainy afternoon, chances are you will find someone standing watch at the FLARE encampment. That simple fact is perhaps the movement's greatest achievement. Not a rally that lasted a day. Not a march that filled Pennsylvania Avenue for an afternoon. But a protest that has sought to maintain a visible presence every hour of every day, becoming one of the longest-running continuous demonstrations in Washington in recent years. Keeping that promise has required far more than political conviction. It has demanded organization. A Community Built Around Commitment Unlike many protest movements that rely primarily on local activists, FLARE has drawn volunteers from across the United States. Some have come for a single afternoon. Others have remained for days or weeks. A smaller core group has devoted months to maintaining the encampment, organizing events, welcoming ...

  Protest, Public Space, and the First Amendment Washington has long been America's stage for dissent. From the Bonus Army of the 1930s to the 1963 March on Washington, from Vietnam War protests to demonstrations for women's rights, racial justice, gun safety, climate action, and countless other causes, the nation's capital has served as the place where citizens seek to make their voices heard before their government. FLARE became the latest chapter in that tradition. Yet its story raises a question that every generation eventually confronts: How long can a protest remain in a public space before it collides with the government's responsibility to manage that space for everyone else? That question lies at the heart of FLARE's experience. The First Amendment in Practice The First Amendment guarantees Americans the rights to free speech, peaceful assembly, and the right to petition the government for a redress of grievances. Those protections are among the broadest in...

Driven from Union Station, Determined to Continue For more than a year, the white tents at Union Station had become part of the landscape. Tourists paused to ask questions. Congressional staffers grew accustomed to walking past the encampment on their way to work. Reporters stopped by to interview organizers. Supporters dropped off food, water, and supplies. Critics voiced their objections. The camp had become a familiar reminder that political dissent remained alive only blocks from the Capitol. Then came the day when that chapter ended. The encampment that had defined FLARE since its founding was removed from the Union Station grounds by government forces, prompting the movement to confront the question that has challenged countless protest organizations throughout history: What happens when you lose your home base? The End of an Encampment The removal of the Union Station camp marked the close of FLARE's most visible phase. Whether viewed as the enforcement of regulations govern...

The People Who Stayed Every protest begins with an idea. But no protest survives without people. That may be the most enduring lesson of FLARE. By the time the movement relocated from Union Station to its smaller campsite on Pennsylvania Avenue, media attention had diminished. The crowds were smaller. Tourists were less likely to stumble across the encampment. National headlines had moved on to the next political controversy. Yet every day, someone was still there. Not because they were paid. Not because they expected fame.But because they believed their presence mattered. The Faces Behind the Signs Spend an afternoon talking with FLARE volunteers, and one thing quickly becomes clear: there is no single profile of a participant. Some are retirees who believe they have a responsibility to defend democratic institutions for future generations. Others are young adults participating in sustained political activism for the first time. Some arrive with decades of experience in civil rights, ...