Fear and Loathing in Toronto

Posted by Dave on Jun 27, 2010 in Guest Writers, International Summits | 2 comments

By David Robson

Today I witnessed absurdity firsthand. I was at Bay and King when anarchists set two police cars alight, I was at Yonge Street for the aftermath of the anarchist’s so-called “class war,” and I was in Queen’s park when the police finally corralled protesters, launched their tear gas, and ineffectually tried to restore order to the city. What happened today was not oppression; there was no police brutality, no great affront to human rights. What happened today was not a social movement; there was no meaningful free speech, no meaningful attempt to persuade, enlighten, or inform. What happened today was not necessary; it was absurd.

I went out to Queen’s Park, where several thousand protesters had gathered, and watched them walk down University Avenue. They were (and are) protesting everything – Iraq, Afghanistan, the G20, capitalism, lack of maternal care, lack of action on climate change, poor social welfare, and of course, the 1.1 billion dollars the Canadian government has spent on this event. $930 million is allocated for security. London spent about $30 in total for their G20 summit. Pittsburgh spent only around $12.2 million on security. I wanted to see what $930 million in security looks like, as I already know what it sounds like – it sounds like criminal incompetence.

It was near the American Consulate where riot police were first deployed. Actually, one of them politely asked me to stand aside when they appeared out of an alleyway, banging their truncheons on their shields. A protester wearing a propeller hat played a high-tempo saxophone solo in front of the riot police as they deployed. A particularly obnoxious protester began screaming, “Why are you provoking us?” over and over again. His voice was hoarse quickly. To get back towards the front of the group, I took the alley out of which the police appeared. Back there, at Simcoe Street, there were a dozen rented vans full of police. Of course, the police presence in the city has been overbearing all week – how many do we need, and what for?

The protest was largely peaceful, if loud and obnoxious, as it moved across Queen Street, up Spadina Avenue, and west on College Street to Queen’s park. Along the way, I was told to get out of Afghanistan, to investigate 9/11, to stop drilling offshore, to tax the banks, to impeach Harper, and to fight the system. They shouted, “Shame, shame,” every time they passed police, though the whole endeavour was quite shameless. Now and then, a diminutive woman chanted, “We speak for those who can’t speak for themselves.” This is the conceit that these protesters share and observe faithfully: that somehow, they are bravely acting on behalf of others, that they have the right to speak for more than just themselves, that they know what is best for everyone.

I overhead a group of protesters talking – they were mothers, and had strollers and young children with them. An organizer told them to stay to the front or back of the column, and to avoid the middle. Why became apparent soon – I got a call from my roommate, Ran, who told me that the police were all moving down University Avenue, towards the barricade. Some anarchists had been hiding in the centre of the column, and they were making a break for the barricade. I made for Old City Hall to join Ran, and once there, I went down Bay Street to find the anarchists.

I caught up with them immediately, and the scene turned surreal. The anarchists, clad entirely in black and waving red flags, were beating up journalists and other onlookers. They broke cameras, and they were spraying the journalist’s faces with paint. Windows were smashed, of course. The anarchists occasionally charged the crowd of onlookers. As I passed through the anarchist crowd, on King Street, I saw them smashing two police cruisers that had been abandoned. I eventually passed the crowd – I didn’t want to be mistaken for one of them, and I didn’t want them the peg me for an onlooker.

At Wellington Street, the riot police formed a line. They shot rubber bullets at the anarchists now and again, and threw tear gas. I expected the police to bottle up the anarchists and begin detaining them, but this did not happen. The police let the anarchists turn towards Yonge Street. Apparently, $930 did not buy security.

I walked up Yonge Street after the anarchists went though. Though the news is content to call what happened a riot, I would hardly call it that. Yonge was more like a festival, crowded with people taking pictures of the broken glass and smashed mannequins. Adolescents with shirts reading ‘Fuck the G20’ stood by them and had their pictures taken. I couldn’t help but think back to my years in Indonesia, where riots caused the streets to empty. This was more like a farce.

Back at Queen’s Park, I watched anarchists ditch their black clothing whilst police watched. The police began forming up in lines, pushing everyone back into Queen’s Park. At this point, it became impossible to distinguish myself as an onlooker. This partly speaks to the success of the anarchist’s Black Bloc tactics; they provoke the police to such an extent that police begin forming lines that stop distinguishing between protesters and everyone else. I met an older couple trying to get to Mount Sinai Hospital, which was, of course, impossible. They weren’t protesting, but they had to run with everyone else when the riot police charged.

There were still more police present than protesters, which was a considerable feat of wasteful spending and poor planning. It was not, however, a vulgar display of power, so much as it was a vulgar display of ineffectualness. The damage was already done – hours ago – and the anarchists departed. At this point, all that was left were people looking for a fight and onlookers. Now and again, the police arrested somebody – usually just a hippy or particularly abrasive protester – while the crowd shouted a constant stream of chants and slogans. Healthcare, welfare, anything but warfare. Hey-hey, ho-ho, the G20’s got to go. Down with Harper. A slogan is not something that makes anyone think, it is something designed to make people stop thinking. To shout at someone is to repress discussion, not to encourage it. Watching the occasional police charging and making arrests, protesters shouted about democracy and freedom of speech. They are all ready to say that they told me so – they told me so, this is proof of whatever leftist slogan they’d been chanting earlier. The police throw tear gas and the mounted officers charge in on their horses, knock people down, and retreat.

Incidentally, I am inclined to thing that freedom of speech implies the obligation to think, which is the one thing that this whole unnecessary circus lacked. Will these protests change anything – will they save the whales, stop climate change, end the G20? No, they will not. Did $930 buy Toronto security? No, it did not. Today, I did not see people power, but I did see people behaving badly. I did not see police brutality, but I did see police ineffectualness. I did not see a photo-op worthy international event; I saw a national failure, a half-baked joke, and a bad idea.

Related posts:

1. Toronto Star Gives Homegrown Sex Scandal THE TREATMENT