It’s 7:45 a.m. and Bruce Smolka is in uniform today. The Deputy Police Chief is sitting alone in the back of a mobile command center awaiting the start of an anti-war protest. A half-dozen cops are with him. They grab bagels and coffee, shake hands and talk golf, but Smolka keeps to himself. His badge tilts slightly off his navy sweater. He picks up his police hat, inspects the brim and puts it on. “Come on, let’s take a walk,” he says to the group. The officers follow him out onto Fifth Avenue.

After 30 years on the New York City Police force, Smolka is in charge of the event of his career. Now 51, he has jockeyed up through the ranks of the force, shifting boroughs, precincts and serving as the Commanding Officer of the Street Crimes Unit during the Guiliani administration. This August, while the Republicans straighten their ties and the protestors sketch their signs, he and his staff will be securing the space that divides them. “Whether there are demonstrators or not, the perimeter is mine,” he says, his tone definitive, as though his are the last words on the subject. In most cases, they are.

As the co-chair of site security at the Republican National Convention, anything moving in or out of Madison Square Garden falls under Smolka’s supervision. He must secure the convention site, the demonstration area, and the hotels where the 35,000 delegates will be staying. He also must monitor the media encampment at the Farley Post Office, the 600,000 daily commuters through Penn Station, and the swarms of protestors that are expected at the outer limits. Factor in the threat of terrorism, and he has one of the most daunting security challenges ever facing New York City.

Preparation for the event began in the summer of 2003. Smolka began meeting with representatives of the Secret Service, FBI, State Police, Fire Department, and the Office of Emergency Management on “Operation Overlord II,” a WWII reference to the D-Day invasion that they’ve appropriated for the RNC. But though the name may recall an earlier time, the threat of terrorism has revolutionized their planning; a biochemical or radiological attack, suicide bomber, or improvised explosive device is now as much of a reality as crowd control and civil disobedience. The March 11 bombings in Madrid resounded loudly in their meetings, and the group has had to restructure their plans in anticipation of the worst. The Convention has been earmarked a “National Security Event,” a designation reserved to events whose size, significance and prominent attendees warrant the most significant precautionary measures.

This means that the police have the complicated challenge of ensuring that protestors will be within “sight and sound” of their target, while simultaneously restricting access to ensure that tighter security standards will be met. The NYPD has seen a sharp rise in the number of demonstrators in the past several years, and credit this to the increased use of the Internet, where activist groups can easily post information on their plans for a demonstration. As a result, networks of protestors have materialized at events with little or no physical notice. The NYPD Intelligence Division is now monitoring online postings of these groups to determine their plans for the Convention and propensity for violence.

“If it’s peaceful, and nothing happens at all, 250,000 people is a lot to deal with,” Smolka said. “Even in the best case that can be a headache. But when we have agitators, that’s another matter. They can pop up anywhere, anytime and do criminal acts, and that’s going to be a big challenge for us.”

The ‘big challenge’ is not limited to protestors. The Convention site lies in the most complex transportation and business center in Manhattan. Approximately 15,000 residents live in an area only nine blocks wide and 17 blocks long, but an estimated 2 million people pass through the vicinity each day—it’s the equivalent of Nebraska dropping by on its way to work. Dozens of enticing attractions—or targets, depending on your perspective—are within less than one square mile: The Empire State Building, New York’s most popular tourist destination; the theaters, shops, and spectacle of Times Square; and Macy’s, the largest department store in the world. Penn Station, Grand Central Terminal, and Port Authority, the three largest transportation centers in the City, are nearby, and Madison Square Garden is in the midst of it all. It will be the center of Smolka’s world from Aug. 30 to Sept. 2.

For now, Smolka’s world is his Gramercy Park office, where he holds court over the patrol borough of Manhattan South, whose ten precincts stretch from 59th Street to Battery Park. The Police Academy building is dusted in a fine layer of grime, with cluttered cubicles, battered furniture, and plainclothes officers mulling about in oversized sweatshirts. Smolka, in contrast, appears to have just stopped off on his way to Wall Street. As an executive officer, the navy uniform is used only on protest duty, and on the day we met he wore a starched white shirt and a Prussian blue tie—a shade as intense as the color of his eyes. His dapper attire, bald head and ruddy face, made him seem like a modern-day Daddy Warbucks.

Though raised by a family of firefighters, Smolka always knew he wanted to be a cop. He was the oldest of four children growing up on Staten Island, where he has lived most of his life. His 25-year marriage ended several years ago, but it’s consolation to him that his son, daughter and two grandchildren still live nearby. “My 1 ½ year-old granddaughter is just starting to develop her personality,” he said in a moment of reserved pride. “I just hope that it isn’t like mine.”

Smolka joined the army after high school, serving with the 82nd Airborne Division for four years at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. After his tour, he returned to New York and began training with the police department in the 1970s, but was laid off due to budget cuts. So he worked as a corrections officer at Riker’s Island Prison, watching over the handiwork of his former colleagues.

“I worked in the ‘Bing,’” he said. “That was the nickname for the ‘jail within a jail’ where prisoners were sent if they got in trouble. It was a good experience. You have to learn to talk to people in order to survive, because you’re so grossly outnumbered. People forget that while working in a prison, you’re locked in there just like everybody else. It made me appreciate the freedom you have as a police officer.”

It was four years before he was able to get himself back on the force and begin working his way up through the ranks. Now he is one of the highest-ranking officers in the City. This determination is evident in his demeanor – a sharp voice, quick handshake and a presence that commands attention.

“He’s not going to let anyone flounder out there waiting for him to decide what should or shouldn’t be done,” said Adam D’Amico, a detective in the Midtown South precinct who is working with Smolka on the convention. “He’s the ultimate decision maker, but his decisions are based on information that he gets from people around him. It’s not a job that he or anyone else could do alone, but he has to know he has the right people in the right positions and trust the information that he’s getting from those people.”

Sometimes the right people cause problems of their own. As the Commanding Officer of the Street Crimes Unit under Mayor Rudolph Giuliani, Smolka was at the center of the controversy following the Amadou Diallo shooting in February of 1999. While searching for a serial rapist, four of his undercover officers mistakenly shot Diallo, an unarmed black man, 41 times, leaving him dead. In the months that followed, protestors marched through Manhattan, former Mayor David Dinkins was arrested for civil disobedience, and the city churned with accusations of police brutality.

“The unit was never the same afterward,” Smolka recalls, shaking his head. “Certainly more than four officers were involved in the shooting. It had a major impact on all of us. The police commissioner made changes in the organizational structure and everyone was assigned out to boroughs, they decentralized the unit and it became more borough focused.”

“That was, by far, the worst year of my career,” said Lt. Raymond Spinella, who was on the Street Crimes Unit during the Diallo crisis and has been selected by Smolka to train the 6,000 officers on duty at the Convention. “The Chief was incredibly supportive of his guys, even as the public came down so hard on us, and it was with his leadership that we were able to make it through.”

Police brutality is again a concern as demonstrators prepare for this summer. Such large-scale events have challenged cities in the past: riots in 1968 at the Democratic National Convention in Chicago brought the city to its knees, and the more recent protests against the World Economic Forum in Seattle and the FTAA in Miami have resulted in widespread arrests, massive destruction of property, and increased suspicion on the part of the police. In New York City, anti-war demonstrations early in 2003 outside the United Nations resulted in over 200 arrests. Smolka admits that their planning could have been better. “That was a very difficult day,” he says, his forehead wrinkling at the thought. “They charged police lines at different times, they were throwing objects, they blocked traffic from flowing in different spots.”

In the year since, organizers from such groups as United for Peace and Justice have met with Smolka and this team to determine the best way to control the crowds. After listening to their requests, the police agreed to limit their use of metal barriers and allow a single open space for a rally instead of cordoning off the area into pens. They also established “feeder blocks” for protestors to gain easier access to marches and have begun posting instructions on their website outlining traffic advisories prior to large scale events. Their coordination has been effective: during a rally on March 20, only four arrests were made.

But the Convention will be inherently different. Robert Morgenthau, Manhattan’s District Attorney, has said in recent a City Council meeting that he anticipated more than 1,000 arrests each day. The Police Department has been tightening their leash; during a protest in early April, the number of officers to activists was nearly one to one.

Smolka was the Incident Commander that morning, the highest-ranking official on the job. As he stepped out onto the street, he crossed his arms across his chest, a stance that did not waver all morning. He focused his gaze on the scene: a group of activists gathered outside the Carlyle Group, a private investment firm with an $18 billion annual revenue and ties to defense spending contracts. As men in business suits sauntered past, the protestors held a banner with the First Amendment scrawled across. They started chanting as Smolka approached, and one protestor, recognizing him, shook his head and said, “I can’t believe the nasty guy is back again this year.”

A year before the group had protested the Carlyle Group’s “war profiteering.” Twenty protestors planned to block the building’s entrance, located at Fifth Ave and 56th Street, and an additional 100 or so stood across the street. As the civil disobedience began, so did the arrests—94 in all. The group now includes Smolka’s photo on their website as someone to watch out for.

“It’s a delicate balance,” said Smolka, “We’re there to protect the people’s First Amendment rights, but we also have to balance that with the fact that people in the neighborhood can conduct their business as close to normal as possible.

“Last year they committed civil disobedience—they blocked the entrance to the Carlyle Group and laid on the sidewalk,” he said, as he stopped half the group from crossing the street so traffic could flow. “They also blocked the sidewalk on the North side of the street and forced pedestrians out into traffic, creating a safety hazard for the people who were trying to get to work, or trying to walk on the sidewalk.”

The group disagrees, and they claim to have videotape of the events that clear them of blame. “We were swept off the street like fleas,” said Ben Maurer, an activist arrested that day. “I was illegally arrested, just for yelling at a building.” A handful were acquitted, and the charges dropped for the rest. The arrests came to the attention of the Center for Constitutional Rights, a legal defense organization that supports the rights of demonstrators to express their opinions. They brought a lawsuit against the NYPD in February citing unlawful arrests and mistreatment during several anti-war protests last spring.

“He strikes me as angry, personally,” said Bruce Bentley, co-chairman of the Mass Defense Committee of the National Lawyers Guild (NLG). Bentley frequently leads the team of Legal Observers who monitor police action during demonstrations. Protest organizers have enlisted the help of the NLG and the People’s Law Collective to provide “Know Your Rights” training sessions for demonstrators, and the NLG has been recruiting Legal Observers to stand “behind the lines” to watch the police.

“I often find that I have to be totally sensitive to what he wants. I don’t watch the protest, I just try to stay with him and watch him,” said Bentley. “Sometimes he loses his temper, which I don’t think is as appropriate as someone in his high-ranking position could be.”

Danny Nester sees Bentley’s contentions as some of Smolka’s strengths. Nester has been Smolka’s assistant for the past two years, which means keeping Smolka’s schedule of twelve-hour days, Sunday night shifts, and demonstration duty. He drives Smolka to all of his meetings and events, and can usually be found right at his side.

“He’s usually the first one in there when arrests are getting made, which unfortunately means that in I’m there right behind him,” said Nester. “He may be a Chief, but he’s still a cop. He doesn’t expect any officer to do anything he wouldn’t do himself.”

Smolka doesn’t differentiate himself from his officers, and sees himself as simple person, content to play a round of golf on the weekend as long as nothing at work has to be done. “Even though we all have different ranks, we’re all in charge of the same mission,” he says, “I like to lead by example. I wouldn’t ask anybody to do something that I’m not prepared to do myself or I haven’t done already.”

There were no arrests that morning outside the Carlyle Group, although Smolka barked several warnings at the organizers to keep the crowds in line. Throughout the rally, he stood outside the group, his chin jutting out and his hand on his cell phone ready to make the call for backup. A group of officers surrounded him, sergeants in their trench coats, the response unit team with their handcuffs ready, and the regular cops that strode alongside the protestors as they marched through the streets.

Smolka won’t comment on the claims against the NYPD, but when pressed he replied, “We’re going to make sure [for the convention] that the demonstrators will be heard. We’re in America and they’re allowed to protest no matter what the cause, and we’re there to make sure that they can do that in a peaceful, lawful manner. We have what we call a tight span of control. People are allowed to say just about whatever they want so verbal harassment is not a violation. But if it oversteps the boundaries and it becomes a violation, then we would make the necessary arrests.

“People may not have the intention of creating a problem, but with a 100,000 people, only a couple hundred looking to cause trouble can be very dangerous. Sometimes you can sense the change in them. People get caught up in it, and as they become fervent they get this crowd mentality. People who maybe wouldn’t do things because they’re hidden in the crowd, they throw things and then things get out of hand, because I guess they believe there’s safety in numbers and no one can see them.”

Smolka expects his officers to keep his high standards. But he also knows the challenges of being on the front lines. “It’s difficult sometimes for younger officers to have to stand there and be verbally abused,” he says, “But you have to remain professional at all times. Many times professional agitators will yell and scream at you, but while you’re on the front lines, you have to disregard whatever their cause is, we can’t get involved.”

The excitement in Smolka’s voice shows that he is looking forward to the Convention, even though his schedule now is little more than meetings and preparatory discussions.

“Sure, there is the potential that things will get political, with a Republican governor, mayor, and president, and this not exactly being a Republican town,” he says. “And there is the potential that we will see a large number of demonstrators, who may not be excited to see us. But it is an honor and privilege and to be doing what I’m doing. The NYPD welcomes this. It’s a big time event and we’re looking forward to it.”

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