I was there yesterday as a witness to the murder of democracy.
I was there.
It was a day I will not soon forget, it was a day that broke my heart.
Perhaps the pouring rain at the outset of the protest was a sign of things to come.
The day began innocently enough, many of us gathered to air our grievances, to add our voices and stand together against the injustices we see in this world. We gathered to protest the policies of a few rich nations deciding the course the lives of many would take and under what terms those lives had a right to exist. We were there to voice our opposition to policies that favour massive bailouts of banks and multinationals on the backs of oppressed peoples and workers. As we began to march, the skies opened, the rain stopped and for a moment the mood changed to one of jubilation. Perhaps it was a sign that the day would go well...
It was not to be.
The mood of soured quite quickly. Sure enough, the black bloc and and their sympathizers hijacked the message of peace and began a campaign of vandalism and violence, easily eradicating any ground the people could have gained in their peaceful protest.
It did not however start there. No. It began when during the march, batallions of Riot Police lined the streets, blocking intersections, wielding shields batons and semi-automatic plastic bullet guns. It continued when we approached intersections such as Richmond and Spadina and cops began donning gas masks and bringing in reinforcements to deal with crowds of peaceful protesters.
"We are peaceful, what are you?"
I still hear our chants ringing in my head.
It continued when police left decoy vehicles for renegade individuals to smash and torch to justify an absurd security budget, for tv cameras to broadcast the wanton destructive turn the protests had taken.
Most of us were peaceful. Yet with blanket hubris, the police soon decided that all protesters were dangerous.
It was then the bullying began. It was then the the intimidation began. Wholesale.
Back at Queens Park, the police hemmed us in to the once place we were told we could protest in peace. 4000 riot police gathered and surrounded the park. Row upon row of black clad riot police stood at the ready and slowly began to advance on the crowd, flanking us. Beating a staccato rhythm on their shields with their batons they inched forwards chanting "MOVE, MOVE, MOVE, MOVE," pushing us back. We yelled, "where are we to go? This was where you told us to be, we are moving stop intimidating us," but they kept advancing, their lines getting deeper, their forces continuing to flank us at every opportunity. The police then began to pick certain people out of the crowd of peaceful protesters. The ranks of the riot police line would swiftly open, a few cops would run out, grab a protester, tie their hands and drag them back behind police lines.
"That is what democracy looks like."
I can still hear our chants ringing in my head.
They did this repoeatedly. I had never been so terrified in my life, my thighs and kness would quake each time they beat their batons and moved forward. They began then to rush forward, forcing the crowd to flee backwards, then stop, then inch forward, open grab a protester, then stop, then inch forward, rush at us, then stop. My heart pounded. We were peaceful, when they not asked but demanded we move back, we complied and they kept coming at us. Then they began to fire plastic bullets into the crowd.
I heard Chief Blair say no bullets were fired, he said it with such a straight face, for a moment I though perhaps I had imagined the whole thing. He lied. He was not there, I was. I saw someone beside get shot, hold his inner thigh in pain and curse, "what the hell are you shooting me for, I'm moving back!" There were cops with plastic bullet guns, headsets picking out targets, getting information on who and when to shoot and as the police advanced and we back up, they would fire, then rush us. We in absurd irony were pushed back past the statue of William Lyon Mackenzie at Queens Park and the placard adorning the foot of the monument hailing Mackenzie's efforts and dream of responsible government. They continued to push, more and more police officers rushing in and surrounding us.
Then they brought their horses. Riot police created a line in front of the police on steeds, would bang loudly on their shields and yell "MOVE" and we would move. In honour of our compliance they opened up their middle and the had their horse police charge at us, over and over moving us back then opening up and rushing horses at us, pushing us further and further back. People would fall and the police would not let up. They pushed us to bloor street, to the west side of Varsity Stadium, stood for some time, some smirking, some saying "the fun's over come back tomorrow," before heading into a bus and laving for other parts of downtown.
I was and am still mortified at how with such impunity, such disregard for the legal right to assembly adn freedom to associate and protest they came at us as if all who wanted to have their voices heard were criminals to be silenced, chopped off at the knees and tongues.
"Shame, Shame, Shame."
"The Whole World Is Watching."
I can still hear our chants ringing in my head.
As I reflected last night and this morning, I mourn for my country, mourn for my city. The police, surely have a job to do, to keep the peace, to protect the citizenry from harm and malicious intent of the few. How this was achieved and if this was I cannot say. What I do know however, what I do believe however is quite different. In five star hotels among five star meals, leaders of the richest nations, some with human rights abuses that curdle the spirit of any man and woman are invited to our country, our city to sign off of treaties that have little transparency, no accountablity in providing the vulnerable of this world with the basics of shelter, water, freedom from hunger adn freedom of choice. These pledges are done with caveats of behaviour and reform that governments of poor nations must endorse or their people suffer. The police then are that line that protect and help reinforce those policies. Rather than protect those who pay them those who need them, rather than allow speech to be fair, for speech to document the abuses humanity is enduring at the hands of the few, they push us back, they charge at us, they beat their batons to the song of murder and choke our voices. They did it so easily, without a second thought, they came at their own neighbours, brothers and sisters and fellow citizens with a disdain and disregard that will haunt me the rest of my days. So many times the police outnumbered us and continued to increase their ranks and push us back and back and back and back.
Yesterday I saw my city crumble under the boot of oppression that the many who live in this place had once fled from. I saw my city die, her bloody lips in protest leaving streaks of red on the pavement where she fell.
When those who wish to speak in peace and assemble peacefully are so forcefully, it is that moment when democracy begins to die, it is then that ALL of our civil liberties are are burned to the wind, it then that we are no longer free.
"This is what a police state looks like."
I will never forget our chants that continue to ring through my head.
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