jeff flake

That was only reinforced last Thursday by Kavanaugh's bombastic and belligerent performance before the Senate committee. To the judge's defenders, his anger was the righteous indignation of the falsely accused, and -- who knows? -- maybe this week's FBI ridiculously limited investigation will find the piece of evidence that proves him right.

But separate and apart from the truth of 36 years ago is the indisputable fact that Kavanaugh, in the fall of 2018, is also furious that anyone dare challenge a system of privilege and entitlement for certain kinds of people who come from the right families and go to the right schools, and who are used to using their power to get away with things -- and are very much not used to common people challenging that authority.

The courage of Gallagher and Archila in confronting a powerful U.S. senator on his own turf, and in saying things on live national television that before Friday they'd not wanted to tell even their own parents, was an epic event -- yet it was not an isolated incident.

The story of brave, once-anonymous citizens taking risks, speaking out and altering the seemingly unbendable course of history starts with Dr. Ford, who frequently said it was her sense of civic duty that led her to take action to inform America about Kavanaugh's moral fitness -- or, more appropriately, lack of it -- for sitting on America's highest court. There can be no doubt that her decision -- which came with no personal upside beyond her unshakable belief that she is speaking the truth -- offered an adrenaline shot of bravery to others like Gallagher.

But Gallagher and Archila were hardly the end of the story, either, but the leading edge of a tidal wave of truth. The flood of callers, including a 76-year-old woman from Missouri, who overwhelmed a live call-in show on C-SPAN with their own vivid revelations of the times they were sexually assaulted. The 83-year-old New Jersey legislator who went public with the story of how she was groped. Each truth-teller buoyed by the strength of the one who came before.

This last week has in many ways echoed the famous words of the Berkeley student activist Mario Savio when he said in 1964 that "[t]here's a time when the operation of the machine becomes so odious, makes you so sick at heart that you can't take part! ... And you've got to put your bodies upon the gears and upon the wheels, upon the levers, upon all the apparatus -- and you've got to make it stop!" Fifty-four years later, women like Dr. Ford, Gallagher and Archila are throwing themselves in front of the runaway train that is the Kavanaugh confirmation, armed with little but their words.