Dancing in Defiance
“Once the protest was over, the police would boast that no force was used. Pointing rifles at a non-resisting crowd doesn’t count as force in the eyes of the State. Imagine any other context in which a man walks up to you and points a gun at you. Would you say that force was used?”
A protest in Minneapolis. Image by Gabe Pierce.
Caught in the Bear Trap
“Turn around. Have a look behind us.” His voice was calm, but there was a hint of resignation, a fatalistic tone. I turned and looked. One thing was obvious: I wouldn’t be making it home by nine.
There were soldiers behind us, or cops dressed up to look like soldiers. Camouflage uniforms and shiny black boots, Armalite rifles or M-16s. They were marching in a line, blocking any attempt to retreat the way we had come. We had taken the freeway, several hundred protesters standing up against Trump’s public threats to disregard the election.
Now the State was responding, and it didn’t matter that the governor was a Democrat, or that the mayor of the city was a Democrat. When you challenge the State, the State always responds in the same way: it reminds you who’s boss, and exactly what its power rests on. Not ballots, but bullets.
“They’ve got us kettled,” I replied. “There are riot cops to the left of us, riot cops up ahead of us… is there any way out?”
My comrade pointed at a high fence, which some of us were attempting to scale. It led out into a nearby neighborhood, where people were already filming us from their apartment balconies.
“I don’t think I can get over that,” I replied. I’m 48, and jumping a tall fence is not as realistic for me as it once would have been. It didn’t matter anyway. Riot cops were already charging across the footbridge, moving in on those who were scaling the fence. All escape routes had been cut off.
“Do they really think they can arrest this many people?” I asked. My comrade shrugged. Whether they could arrest us all or not, we were going to be trapped on this freeway for a good long while. The trap had sprung, and we were sitting there with our leg in its teeth.
From Kettle to Street Party
The purpose of the protest wasn’t only to stop Trump from claiming dictatorial power – it was also part of the ongoing rebellion touched off by the police murder of George Floyd, which happened in a city and state controlled by the Democratic party. As such, the crowd’s chants had as much to do with the George Floyd Rebellion as the 2020 election. This crowd wasn’t out to fight for Joe Biden, but to fight against an entire system predicated on the murder of black people and police impunity for acts of violence.
Some of the protesters were sitting on the ground. The police were arresting them one by one, and every arrest was supported by two of the men in camouflage. Whether soldiers or police, they would step forward with rifles in hand to make sure that no one did anything to resist arrest. Throughout that entire protest, from beginning to end, there was no hint of violence from the crowd. From the liberal standpoint, it was the perfect protest – absolutely non-violent. The State’s response? To have men in uniforms point rifles at us.
The message was absolutely clear: “We could murder you if we wanted to.” Once the protest was over, the police would boast that no force was used. Pointing rifles at a non-resisting crowd doesn’t count as force in the eyes of the State. Imagine any other context in which a man walks up to you and points a gun at you. Would you say that force was used?
Before I go to an action, I generally pray to the gods I worship. Brighid for calm and inner peace, and for the deep love of justice that gives genuine courage. Macha for fierceness, the wild joy of the goddess in battle. Seeing the cops and soldiers take us one by one, marching us off the freeway to the buses nearby, I felt no fear at all.
Even if they arrested every last one of us, even if they decided to carry out their implied threats and open fire on the crowd, they simply aren’t as strong as this movement. We’ll ride out the trouble and come back stronger, and in the end, they cannot control us.
The crowd started dancing spontaneously, a celebration in defiance of their power. No power based on murder can have any legitimacy, and if we refuse to acknowledge it then it will no longer exist.
A police officer walked up to me, with two armed soldiers directly behind him. I stepped forward as he approached, knowing that the law he represented was a murderous lie.
“You’re under arrest,” he told me.
Christopher Scott Thompson
Photo by Tam Hutchison.
is an anarchist, martial arts instructor, and devotee of Brighid and Macha.
